#gold statues are the least of ones worries...!

[as-thra]

⌛AM!AU Endings where Aslan ends up with AM

[venmondiese]

SUBTLE LOVE, DARING WORDS

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: Aemond is in no hurry to take a wife, yet once he realizes that he doesn't value what he has until he might lose it, he takes action. (based on THIS request!)

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader.

✧word count: 3.1k

✧tags: fluff and comfort, aemond is BAD at feelings, reader doesn't really admit anything either, slight? slowburn?, overall fluffy!!, this is really vague about in which year happens, lol

The first time he met you it was in the library.

He had his mind on the whole commotion at court, the tournament which he had refused to entertain, much to his mother's dislike because of his position as a royal. To him, it seems like a foolery, as if he was willing to participate in making himself a fool such as Mushroom. 

When he came to the library, intending to search for a book to comfort himself, he found a lady leaning down one of the staircases, where there were lots of books stacked only for maesters, with him as an exception… but not a lady surely, less one that seemed to be looking for something below. He was astonished, for many reasons. 

He watched her big, puffy dress, in rich red velvet and gold details. It was definitely a Westerlands style, so he was more confused as to why she was in this part of the library, only for maesters, and… well, him. How did the guards allow her to enter? How did she do it so confidently, as if he couldn’t make her life hell for it?

“Ehem” he scoffs, as if trying to get her away. The least of his worries was having a lady on the forbidden library corner… for now. “Get out. You are in a forbidden part”

“I am aware” your voice comes from down the staircase you had even moved some books! That made him slightly… annoyed.  As you move your head out to see the prince above you, and you make a movement with your head as if doing a courtesy. “My prince”

He was not amused, at all. You had green eyes, and the most golden hair he had seen in ages. The small lions on your dress allowed him to know who you were: A Lannister. And he definitely never wanted to deal with any of your kin. 

“And I said-”

“My cat is down there” you say, as if he cared. 

“Okay. Take it out of here”

“I can’t” you say simply, watching him with a grin. “She seems to be in labour. I didn’t know she was pregnant at all…”

He has many questions, and he frowns at your reasoning. He would take the cat and throw it out himself if he had to. 

“It is your cat, just take it away”

“Well, my father gave her to me two weeks ago!” You make a face, almost whining about it. Of course he could know which Lannister is your father. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, and she is still getting used to me. She will scratch me, more if I get closer to her babies”

“A scratch won’t kill you”

“Just sit” you say softly, watching the cat and sitting on the ground to wait. “You can even keep one of the baby cats”

“My grandsire has brought enough cats already” Aemond says, walking to grab some wine for him and the lady. He wasn't impolite to be rude to a lady, much less one with your status and beauty. “They come to my bed when I am sleeping, and I wake up to cats in my chest”

“Well, I think they are cute” You say, taking the cup of wine, thanking him as you sip the wine. “Cats are felines, like lions. So I think having a cat is reasonable, better than a lion”

“Don’t you want one?”

“I have one back at home” you say shrugging, smiling widely. “He is called Brightroar”  

Of course you named it like the ancient weapon of Lannisters. “And this one?” 

“I wanted to call it Brightroar second, but it turned out to be a she. So she is just called Gemma” 

He can’t deny that he is amused, watching you being so nonchalant about it all, as if you owned the world. He raises an eyebrow as he has a slight smirk, as he sits near. 

“Gemma” he scoffs. “A very…”

“Lannister name” you say smugly. 

“Hm. I was going to say… common, perhaps” he adds.

“You would love for Lannisters to be commoners, my prince. Yet you seem to rely on our gold” you notice, raising one eyebrow. So you weren’t a silly lady, he realises, you had the wits.

“Hmm… Our gold seems a bit excessive, my lady. It is your father who is the head of your house” he reminds you, leaning back on his chair. 

You smile softly. He thinks you are Cerelle, probably. Mostly because you know Cerelle was still a kid and never been presented to the royal court.

“Mine or not, I still am more entitled to it.”

“I have a dragon.” He adds, as if this was a debate between you both. He was actually enjoying it. He had totally the wrong impression of you and he… was enjoying it. “The biggest dragon”

“Yeah, and?” 

“And I could burn your silly little castle” he shrugs, taking a dip of wine. 

“No, you could not” 

“I’m pretty sure I can”

“No, actually. I know you haven’t gone out of these four walls and this... city, my prince, but I remind you out of the kindness of my heart: Casterly Rock is literally… a rock” 

Aemond rolls his good eye, yet his smirk doesn’t leave his face. As if your cat was forgotten, he keeps on his point. 

“As if has stopped a dragon before” Aemond says simply. “Because I am as kind I shall remind you of Harrenhal, perhaps?” 

“And I shall remind you that Harrenhal is a castle made of rocks.” She shrugs softly. “Not exactly a rock. Casterly Rock is literally a castle inside a rock.”

“Some parts are out of it”

“Not the part where we keep our gold, not really”

Aemond squints his eye, and you look back at him. You amused him, looking like a defiant cat that got away with their mischief. It was fun to see, and he could hear the wails of your cat. You didn’t seem worried, neither was he. Perhaps that was the circle of life, and you knew your cat would manage. 

As you speak of such trivial matters, waiting for your cat to end her labours, he couldn’t help but admire your wits, as much as your beauty. Your velvet gown, of a strong red and some gold details did wonders with your appearance, and your brains only made you brighter. 

“What are you doing here?” It was Tyland Lannister, coming with a Maester behind, probably who sneaked your position in a forbidden library. “You know ladies can’t be here” 

“Father... My cat is giving birth” You say, frowning as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“My prince” Tyland makes a courtesy to him, a bit rigid and tense. You had heard how the prince would often terrorise your father, making him do the silliest things as if that amused him. Your uncle Jason often had a laugh about it. 

“I was not aware your daughter was…” Aemond says, turning his gaze to you “All grown up”

He knew about you, but your father talked about you as if you were a babe. You were practically his own age, for what he could tell.

“Yes, my little lion is certainly… grown” Tyland agrees, his hand on your hair as he spoke. “Come on; let’s not bother the prince…”

“It is not a bother” Aemond cuts him, serving himself more wine. “She is rather amusing”

“How dare you-!” You say, offended as you come to your defence.

“Sweetie” Your father tries to calm you, with a tense smile as if telling you to shut up.

“I am not a jester” 

“No one said you were” Aemond says, amused as he smirks. 

“You are such a…”

“Apologise” your father murmurs. 

“But fath-”

“You heard me”

“I am sorry, my prince” You say mockingly, and he smirks, even more amused.

Tyland seemed as if he was about to have a stroke, because he had enough things on his plate, and he didn’t need the prince making his life at the small council harder. 

Aemond sees Gemma, bringing her cats to show you how they were, all of them bloody, and squirmy, a bit pink and small. You petted them as you didn’t mind the blood.

“Come on. Servants will need to clean the blood” Tyland says, making a notion for you to stand up “Grab the kittens and let’s go”

“Ew, no. They are all bloody” You say frowning. “You take them” 

How lady-like. He thinks, as you didn't seem to mind the blood two seconds ago.

Even with your persistence, your father took the small and weak kittens, and your cat kept meowing at him as if he would kill him. 

“How did your cat even come here to give birth?” Your father asks as he tries to not get Gemma to kill him.

“I have no idea, father…” You say, and Aemond sees you standing up. 

He sees the pile of books in your hands, behind your back as you walk behind your father. You smart wench, he thinks, as you had just successfully stolen forbidden books by setting up your cat to give birth here. You even had him fooled. No one else notices, since your dress was puffy enough, and he noticed it by shamelessly trying to see your ass. 

You watch him, and press your index finger in your lips, as you walk behind your father and his complaints about your cat. 

“Do not bother the prince, darling” Tyland says once you get out of the library.

“I think he is quite handsome” you admit, when you know the prince won’t hear you. You father watches you shrug, walking forward him, not allowing him to see your hands. He sighs, as Gemma starts meowing loudly. 

While the rest of your interactions have been brief, he notices that you are more of a troublemaker than you let yourself look. You had that mischievous smirk always, arching your eyebrows in such a way when you had a plan. 

Yet, you were sweet. He notices how you play with your cousins, Cerelle, braiding her hair, and with Loreon, the small heir to Casterly Rock, a kid that enjoyed running around, and you often entertained his antics. 

“And there will be so many ladies, Aemond. In this time, we need alliances…” His mother says, as they walked through the castle. He hears the step of Cole behind them, guarding them, and probably hearing how his mother tried to make him a lovebird.

“It does not interest me”

“It doesn’t have to interest you. It is a matter of duty-”

“I won’t marry, mother.” Aemond shrugs, as if that was the way of his life. “Not yet. I have things ahead of me yet” 

“You inscribed on the tourney?” The queen inquires, curious. 

“No” he says shrugging, slyly trying to seek for you in the royal box, to no avail. “I am not in a hurry.”

He greeted noble ladies, of course. As he was seated on the royal box, bored and waiting, he could see girl after girl doing courtesy and smiling in a flirty way to him. It did not amuse him, and he was polite enough, almost rude. 

“She is trying really hard, you know” A voice joins his thoughts. It is you, sitting by the empty chair by his side, where Aegon is supposed to be, but he never is on time.

“Who isn’t?” He rolls his eye.

“I didn’t know you were so in demand. High valued. Sought after” you list, as you fan yourself as it was indeed a hot day. 

“Very amusing” He murmurs.

“Come on, my prince. There must be a lady who catches your attention.” 

“I am not blind” he says, rolling his good eye. “Of course there are women I find beautiful”

“Oh my... Having feelings now, congratulations, the Seven indeed are capable of the most... unthinkable miracles”

“You just woke up being so funny” he says, looking at you, raising his eyebrow, yet the small way his lips curved allowed you to know he was amused.

“I am always funny, my prince” you say watching the crowd get settled, squinting your eyes due to the sun. “My cats are good, thanks for asking. Gemma is quite the mother, even if she tried to eat one of them.”

"How... vivid." He says, raising his eyebrows in slight disgust.

"I saved them. Since they are four, I named them: Elia, Joy, Alyssa and Teora"

"And what if one of those silly cats was to be a male?" he asks, as if seeing a flaw in your cat-naming thing.

"Pff, none of them will be. I know it. And if they are, I won't change the names"

He remains quiet, surprised by how bold and petulant you could be. It was amusing to him, and he enjoyed talking to you more than he cared to admit.

“You stole from the library.” he reminds you.

“I have no idea what you are about” you say, still looking at the crowd, smiling softly. The red of your dress made your gold hair bright even more. “Ladies do not read such matters”

“Yeah, right. You are unlike any lady”

“Quite the contrary” you finally turn to see him “I am just like any other lady” you says, smiling. "It just happens that I am friends with the prince, so I am allowed to speak freely"

"Who said..." He says, opening his mouth and turning his face to you, a bit impressed by your silliness "How come you think... you suppose that we are friends?"

"Since you have neither sneaked about the time at the library, or told me to shut up and leave you alone, it is a logical conclusion, if we have in mind your previous reputation to anyone else." You say smiling. "And do not worry, if you do not consider me as such, doesn't matter, because I do and I appreciate you even if you hate me"

"You are..." He scoffs, grinning like a fool "Unbelievable"

"I know. One of my many charms. That and being a matchmaker. I love it. It is wonderful to make couples at court, and more if they end up together, being all happy and..."

“Huh.” He hums, thinking of how odd you were. “Talking about the wonders of a married life”

“I didn’t say that. I merely stated that… marriage isn’t the worst. I intend to find a husband very soon as well. I would very much like to be a wife”

“I shall pray for the poor soul who calls you wife” He murmurs as he looks at the field below, where the knights were preparing, yet you hear his grumbles. 

“And I shall pray to see prince Aemond besotted for a lady” you say teasingly, standing up, not before doing a small courtesy and leave to sit by your father, who had just arrived, frowning a bit as to why you were with prince Aemond.

The tournament does not bore him at all. He is very into the way the fight develops, and he takes mental notes when he sees some weaknesses in the participants. He regrets, just a bit, not joining, because he thinks he could have won. 

He sees you, on the seats below him, jumping in excitement as the fight develops. You are into it very much, clapping and screaming as any commoner does outside the royal box. It was improper, but it was… cute. 

He can see the rest, clapping politely, not overly excited yet proper for the occasion. You were unlike the rest, yet at the same time, you were just like any lady. It amazed him, and he did not understand.

He soon realises that he is not the only one that has you in mind, when the winner of the tournament comes closer to the stands, riding triumphantly in circles while the audience cheers him on, the crown of the Queen of Love and Beauty on his lance.

“The Winner, Ser Dale Dondarrion shall find his Queen of Love and Beauty”

He hesitates for some moments, he thinks he shall name his niece Jaehaera to win the favour of the royal house, like his ancestor once did to little princess Daenerys at the early reign of King Jaehaerys. 

Yet his smile faints when he sees that the queen of beauty’s laurel falls into your lap. 

“Lady Lannister, I hope I am deserving of dedicating my victory for you, and shall your reign be full of joy, even if lasting one night”

You take the wreath of flowers, almost jumping in sight and squealing some thanks as Tyland accommodates the crown onto your braided hair. Your crowning came with an ovation full of applause, from the box and from the commoners… but him. 

It was an odd feeling, stirring something in him, as he watches your cheeks pink from the compliments of all, and most of all; having a suitor. Being named queen of love and beauty was not anything like a dull compliment of court merely because it was proper. It was being publicly courted, and often something many ladies wished, because there was no better feeling than being shown off to everyone. 

He was quiet the rest of the day. Humming when ladies talked to him, in hopes to gain his attention and be courted; when Aegon mocked him; when Helaena placed one of her bugs in his lap, which Maelor ended up squeezing on his grip; when his mother presented him a lady of a high castle with expensive clothes and a sweet behaviour, pure, and devoted. He paid little attention to it all.

It was when your reign was coming to an end that he asks for Tyland to come to the empty throne room. He was watching the throne, carefully inspecting it, as he calculated of his next words. He was being irrational, clearly driven by his emotions and desperation rather than the logically he usually had. 

“My prince” 

Tyland was no stranger to the formalities of court, yet he never let himself be intimidated by lords that tried to impose themselves. He was the second son, yet he had established a name for himself and earned respect in his position; there was nothing for him to feel belittled about

Yet intimidation comes natural with prince Aemond around. 

He has the impression that his one eye is wide open, and the smirk that naturally was on his lip was one of amusement in the suffering of the rest. Always stoic, never doing things out of impulsivity... Which was even worse. His hands behind his back, as he remained as still as a statue.

It did not frighten him, but he knew Aemond was as cold as unforgiving. And slicing his head won’t make the prince feel regret.

“Lord Tyland” Aemond greets him softly. 

A silence follows, as Tyland feels his hand sweating slightly. “An idea for the small council?” He tries to guess. “I am sure it can wait, my prince, I should be with my daughter, since it’s her day…”

“Exactly. That’s what I wanted to speak about”

Tyland is a smart man, and he quickly realises the problem.

“I know she can be presumptuous and slightly spoiled, my prince” He starts, feeling Aemond’s eye on him as he turns to face him. “She takes the title too seriously, when it isn’t, Mushroom was just hyping her up, and she is just still a girl, and I apologise on her behalf for trying to impose herself as Queen, when her reign only lasts for a day, and she really is…”

“I want to marry her” Aemond tells Tyland simply. “Her reign shall not end. She can be a princess.”

Lannisters usually aren’t left speechless. They had never been known for their silence, yet here he is, silent.

“Ser Dondarrion made the same proposal hours earlier, my prince, and I…”

“And you will allow your daughter to marry a Ser instead of a prince? I have already told you. I want to be her husband” He insists, his tone not certainly soft as he loses patience. His soul craves you. He needs to be yours. He can’t let you go away. “She is smart and she has the wits. She is spoiled, and she loves to have her way. She is kind, sweet, and funny. And I want to be her husband and give her anything she asks for. Is that so hard to get?”

What wakes up Queen Alicent is her son with a stoic expression, not even entering her rooms to speak.

“I was wrong” He says simply “I shall marry Lady Lannister, mother. I am in a hurry. So I ask you to prepare the wedding. Good night and Seven blessings”

Almost a year later is when your father comes closer to your chambers once again, seeing how your ladies in waiting do a courtesy out of politeness, and he watches prince Aemond at your door, waiting for him.

“Came as fast as I could…”

“Hm” Aemond says, as he walks toward the open doors.

Tyland could have his distance with Prince Aemond, but he couldn’t deny how good a husband he was. He wasn’t a man of many emotions, in his perspective, yet he was a devoted husband. He danced as many times you wanted in the ceremony, sighing every time you made him stand up from his seat. He didn’t wear the eye patch on your wedding, just as you requested.

“That is the worst idea ever, darling” He said to you, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, he will have to if he wants to marry me”

And so he did. When you wanted to travel to Volantis, he arranged it all. When you wanted for him to meet Brightroar, he took Vhagar and rode into the Westerlands with you. 

“Was it all well?”

“Everyone in the castle heard a lion roar” Aemond says walking past the maesters. 

You seemed so little, in Tyland’s eyes, all sweaty and tired, like the time you got so sick he was afraid you would die. He had brought the very best maesters he could find, just to assure you were safe. 

“It is a girl” It’s the first thing you say to your father, smiling a bit. “A healthy baby”

Tyland leans, to kiss your forehead, as you extend your babe to him. It was a small thing, yet chubby and all pink still. She had small, silver hair, very thin, but present. He could see the little gold spot, as if gold hair would grow on some of her hair. It was indeed curious, and yet he couldn’t think she was anything but perfect.

“A bit squirmy” He comments, as the baby yawns, opening her mouth as she whines slightly. 

As he tries to coo the small thing, he watches how Aegon sits by your side, at the edge of the bed, passing his hand behind your shoulders to caress your shoulder. You lean against him a bit, and say.

“It is a pain to breastfeed, why didn’t you tell me?”

He chuckles a bit awkwardly, he had never gotten used to your bluntness and honesty. “I never knew anything about that”

“Well, it is. I thought babies knew how to do it, but she takes a long time” You say, looking up at Aemond.

“She is still very little, my love” Aemond reminds you. 

“I know, but what if I am doing it wrongly? Mothers usually know those things, and I find myself clueless. Aunt Joanna says it comes naturally, but she has successfully raised kids who have survived childhood.” You say, looking at Aemond. “So has your mother. How comes I don’t know?”

“Because you are a mother from little more than a day.” Aemond reminds you “And they had help. So you do. You have me, of course. You have wet nurses, maids, maesters, and my own mother and of course, you have the brightest mind. We’ll do”

“Did you know Aemond cried, father?” You tell him, and he finally looks away from his little granddaughter. 

He blinks, a bit confused, watching the prince. “Oh, did he?” 

“Yeah, it was rather cute” Aemond rolls his eye amused, as your hand was on his knee. 

“It’s the only natural response.” Tyland says, his finger caressing the skin of the sleeping babe, who squirmed a bit at the feeling, like a cat. “She is delightful. Have you named her?”

Aemond looks at you, amused, expecting you to answer the question. You had the smug grin on your face, and nodded. “We had a deal. If she had golden hair, she would have a Targaryen name. If she had silver hair, she would have a Lannister name”

“And?”

“Well, she is rather… peculiar. She had silver hair, but you can see how some gold hair has grown too? It is the oddest of things, but the Maesters said it was natural. You know how cats have different hair colours?”

“Don’t compare her to a cat” Tyland makes a face, softly rocking her in his arms.

“She has both silver and gold.” Aemond says, as if reminding you to keep on trail. 

“Ah, yes. Since it’s most silver, we agreed on something that you will find the brightest things, father.” You look at your husband and then your father. “Gaemma. It’s a bit… weird to say it, but with time it shall be delightful”

Tyland looks at you, and he blinks. “Like your cat?”

“Well, thanks to her I and Aemond met.” You remind him. “She deserves some credit” You add.

“I like it” he murmurs. “Don’t make your mama lose her mind” He says, as the baby yawn, extending her arms. 

“She will, after all she is her mother’s daughter” Aemond says, taking her back, and he adds “You should have seen how loud she wailed once she came.”

“I am here, world. Hear me roar” you say, as if trying to translate Gaemma’s cries. You smile widely, and Tyland knows that even if you were always going to be his little girl, you were in the best hands, and that Aemond adored the ground you walked on. Even if you name their child after your cat. 

[tarotenchantress]

Astro observations ptVI.

"I didn't do anything🐈‍⬛️"

DO NOT PLAGIARISE MY WORK🚫

All these observations are based on my personal observations

By tarot enchantress🧚🏻‍♀️

The following observations are on those placements that may indicate being falsely accused or being looked at with suspicion and mistrust, that may make a person feel as if others only view them as a scape goat.

🐈‍⬛️ saturn aspecting ascendant, saturn in 10th house, saturn aspecting 10th house, saturn aspecting mc, saturn in 7th house, aspecting 7th house, saturn aspecting sun, capricorn rising. Capricorn sun, in capricorn, capricorn degrees, in 11th house, aspecting 11th house

Saturn makes a person work hard for appreciation like even the most basic thing like aknowledgement seems like a task for saturnian placements. These placements might make a person prone to being accused of trying to "take over" work and their boss's positions, they may be viewed as sinister social climbers who are selfish and dont care much about others feelings. They may be prone to being used as a scapegoat as they tend to for most parts, demonstrate a submissive attitude towards those in authority and are scared of having their reputation being ruined which may mean that their coworkers may make them the scapegoat to escape work or make them do most of the work. Another manifestation could be that when young, saturnian placements may be lazy and rebellious which may mean that others would use then and blame them for the failure of any work. People also tend to wait on these placements to fuck up. GOAT for a reason tho🐐 they may also be (esp women) accused of being gold diggers and only going after status and position. In their romantic relationships, they may be accused of being too robotic or practical and may be criticised alot by their partners. Adv for this placement is to be choosy with partners and dont worry about lazy twats who fuck their own pillow and then sleep on it bother you💗💗 oh and the children may be loners even adults. The boss's may be very critical of these placements too and harder or harsher with them which in the long run also makes them stronger which is required for authority. Most od the time end up in authoratative positions and face envy and criticism.

🐈‍⬛️ saturn in cancer, aspecting 4th house, in 4th house, in cancer degreez, aspecting moon, moon in capricorn, in capricorn degrees

The black goat of the family. Normally feels distant with family and may feel excluded for most parts. May feel misunderstood and family may not aknowledge their hardwork or achievements. They may also be called words like selfish from a very young age and face criticism and control from their parents especially mother figures or feminine figures. Another loner placement as they may feel emotionally misunderstood or lost. Also may feel as if they have to bear the burden of thier family problems that can be generational too. May be the least favoured child of the family. Scolded the most too and disciplines the most too. May be given chores to do from a very early age. Mayhavebeen told that life is not fair from a very early age.

I have saturn in cancer and saturn conjunct my moon and i have always felt like i had to hide my feelings to be the bigger one in the house and look after everyone.

🐈‍⬛️ uranus rising, in 10 th house, aquarius rising, aquarius sun, aqua in 4th house, in 11th house, asoecting 11th house

Similar effects as the saturn points. Uranus tends to make a person unique but also odd one out may make a person feel as if they just dont fit anywhere and people dont understand them. May also feel as if people make fun of them or view them as an object of entertainment and wonder and mocjery at times. People may also regard them as the "weird" one and use them as a scapegoat in social setting. Like it may happen that mostly your friends may start making fun of you or mocking you in social settings just to "make things lighter". Make you the butt of the jokes. You may feel as if you just dont fit in a specific group. Like ik aqua is associated with groups, community and all but i also feel as if people with these placements tend to feel invisible here and there. Neglected even. Also, you may feel that youre surrounded by ungrateful people.

🐈‍⬛️pluto in 10th house, 1st house, aspecting 10th house, aspecting ascendant, aspecting 1st house, in capricorn degrees,in aquarius degrees, aspecting sun pluto in 3rd house, 11th house., in virgo degrees, gemini degrees, in 7th house, in libra degrees, in libra.

These placements attract alot of attention and obsession from the public. You may not even know about it but you do. You could consider tourself the most boring person. But you attract attention. Sometimes it is overt and sometimes it is secretive. You may feel abandoned by people in general. People may envy you criticise everything you do, pass snarky comments, act fake with you or act egoistic with you, gossip about you, they nay approach you only to gain popularity and to say that they associate with you. They may criticise your career, work ethics, dreams, goal, ambitions, and they may even befriend you just to know your secrets, turn around on you, backstab you and steal what belongs to you. May even try to "humble" you down. You may be sexualised alot and swear alot too. You may try to avoid attention for most parts and may be considered bitchy. They may accuse you of seducing their partners or random men, being attention seeking, being a whore, sleeping your way to the top. Classic slut shaming placement. Oh you may also be excluded because your romantic associations like ppl may demonise you for it and also be obsessed with your partners. also your partners may accuse you of cheating. Also people may spread romours about you.control issues can be seen. People may try to control you and once you stop giving in, thye shun you and accuse you.

I have pluto in 3rd house and as a child i was accused of being a liar and was constantly made fun of and used as the butt of the jokes even by parents.

🐈‍⬛️ chiron aspecting saturn, 11th house, 10th house, sun, in 3rd house, in gemini, in virgo, in gemini or virgo degree, aspects to asc, mc, in 1st house, cap degrees, in cap, aqua degrees, in aqua.

Chiron shows where our deepest pain lies. You may feel like youve been rejected by the people around you time and again. You could have been excluded from groups or msy have felt as if people in groups dont care about you. Your reputation may have taken a hit due to your friends and they may hurt you or accuse of doing things that youve not done. Thye may try to use you as a scapegoat to exclude you from socisl settings or more "fun" things. They may even make you do alot of work in the name of friendship and become extremely ungrateful towards you. Usually rejected and used as a scapegoat because of your goal, ambitions, intellect, uniqueness, work ethics, association with authoratative figures and success.

🐈‍⬛️ mercury ruled folks. Gemini sun, moon, asc, mc, in gem degrees, virgo sun, moon, asc, mc, in virgo degrees, 6th house placements, 3rd house placements, aspecting chiron.

Mercury governs communication, 3rd house governs neighborhood, school, early education, virgo and 6th house rule service orientation.

These placements may want to be a part of a community and be "useful" to the people around them but heres the thing, they may often be accused of lying [esp gemini and 3rd house] may be accused of being double faced and tricksters, flirts and mentally unstable. Virgo placements and 6th house placments are more service oriented and prefer to help and be useful to the people around them but they may be accused of being nags and jealous. They may be accused of again, stealing work, being strict and jealous, idk why i heard sometjing related to purity and "better than thou" maybe some of yall are getting accused of that too. People may use you as a scapegoat by taking credit of your work, making you work harder taking advantage od your shy and friendly nature and of your non confrontational nature. You may feel as if people just mock you, or ignore you and try to take credit of your work and soread rumours about you. Also people may call you stupid, or thing you have some mental ailment and if you do, they may pick on it and mock you

🐈‍⬛️mars in 10th house, 1st house, aspecting 10th house, aspecting ascendant, aspecting 1st house, in capricorn degrees,in aquarius degrees, aspecting sun pluto in 3rd house, 11th house., in virgo degrees, gemini degrees, in 7th house, in libra degrees, in libra, in aries, sun in aries, moon in aries, in aries degrees [sun moon, asc, mc]

This placements may trigger people to compete with you. They may accuse you of being too dominating, may accuse you of being gostile, aggressive and may even try to act like that towards you. They may try to act authoratative towards you. They may get easiy irritated with you and pick on your body alot or your stamina and leadership qualities. They may try to use you as a scapegoat by painting you as a non cooperative person who is always trying to dominate others and is temperamental and aggressive. Also your Nger could be like a fuel for others, they may constantly try to pick on it to make you look crazy and feel entertained and to gossip.

I have mars in 7th house and i have always felt that people only try to test my temper because they are bored and because it gives them an adrenaline rush.

🐈‍⬛️lilith in 10th house, 1st house, aspecting 10th house, aspecting ascendant, aspecting 1st house, in capricorn degrees,in aquarius degrees, aspecting sun pluto in 3rd house, 11th house., in virgo degrees, gemini degrees, in 7th house, in libra degrees, in libra.

Same effects as pluto but make it even more intense and add an effect of being shamed and bickered with repeatedly. People may try to control you and mold you. Being shunned. Also add an effect of increase in being sexualised

🐈‍⬛️neptune in 10th house, 1st house, aspecting 10th house, aspecting ascendant, aspecting 1st house, in capricorn degrees,in aquarius degrees, aspecting sun pluto in 3rd house, 11th house., in virgo degrees, gemini degrees, in 7th house, in libra degrees, in libra, in 12th house, in pisces.

Neptune tends to create a haze and confusion where ever it sits. This means thar people may not trust you immediately. Some may accuse you of playing dumb, may accuse you of being coniving. Accusations of being a wolf in sheeps clothing. You may be used as a scapegoat by people because they might think youre too stupid or you play dum, are too sleepy or lazy and have hidden agendas. They may also target your memory alot. Accuse you of being forgetful and may try to gaslight you.

[ymechi]

Who is the real Creator?

Sorry this took so long I have so much to say but I have no idea where to start. I hope you guys are okay with how it ended and the decision I made. This is a yandere au but with Nahida it is platonic (and the rest of the underage characters).

-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major)

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, this is part 5, part 6

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Reader began to unpack their stuff, it was mostly clothes and books, everything else like cooking utensils was unnecessary as there were attendants who would handle stuff like cooking and cleaning. Reader guessed that was the perks of being an Archon.

The room was a bit of a mess the large doors were open and the boxes littered the floor with various trinkets and Readers personal belongings. 

One should not look down on how much stuff one can gather, even in a foreign world. Soon they would be able to write poems with how well their vocabulary had gotten.

Reader took out a shirt and folded it neatly putting it inside the nicely carved wardrobe. They felt a little out of place in the spacious and very fancy room. Yet there was a certain charm towards it, Reader especially loved the tall glass windows that let the sunlight in.

"I see you are already settling in."

"Oh, Nahida! I did not see you there, yeah I thought it was best to do it while I could."

"You know there are attendants if you ever need help, please don't feel too bad it's their job after all."

"Well if you put it that way. . . I guess I could use a hand with the rest of the clothes." 

Reader had underestimated how many clothes they had, it was boring to fold them and sort them all. They had bought most of their clothes and personal items as both Nahida and Reader did not know the extent of the tension that Darling's reveal would cause.

They looked through the boxes and one object caught Readers eye. It shined as the sun reflected on it. Reader took it out and observed it. This was a gift Darling had given them, it was a Fanoos that was intricately carved and made out of polished gold. The lantern's glass was made out of various colors in geometrical shapes. Overall it was very beautiful something Reader would like.

Speaking of. . .

"Nahida what will happen to Darling after. . . you know?"

Nahida watched the lantern that was in their hand without saying anything and then looked at Reader with a smile.

"It was decided that they would go to an isolated temple in Inazuma for their own safety. Even if they are innocent we can't be too careful what others might do."

Well, at least Darling would be safe there was no need to worry after all they had the Raiden shogun. Inazuma would be far away though.

They looked at the Fanoos, it would be pretty to add it near the nightstand. . . There was already a lamp there, so they decided to put it on a bookshelf instead.

"It looks very nice on the shelf there," said Nahida.

"Yeah, I am glad you think so too," replied Reader.

Reader saw a familiar hat figure silhouette from the open door. It was Wanderer as they had expected, curiously he was carrying several moving boxes as well.

"That is right I forgot to tell you Wanderer decided for extra security to move in here as well, I saw no reason to turn him down."

"O-oh but is it fine for him to just move like that because of me?"

Wanderer must have heard the conversation as he turned to look directly at them. He nodded toward Reader who gave him a small wave. After the status of Readers creator-hood was revealed Wanderer had taken to being polite to Reader but after some more nagging on their part, he had mellowed down a bit. He did tease them from time to time as was normal between them.

Reader hoped with time they could go back to the usual scowling Wanderer who did not hesitate to say what was on his mind.

However, that did make Reader ponder why he turned polite while Nahida stayed the same.

Reader must have been staring at Nahida as the Archon looked at them with a tilted head.

"I see you two are talking behind my back, not very nice I must say."

"We were just talking about your new living arrangements," she looked at Wanderer with an innocent look, "you know, it made their grace feel really bad."

Reader snorted at Nahida's jab at getting into Wanderer.

Wanderer looked surprised but sighed looking at Reader with a sincere expression they did not expect to get today.

"There is no need to concern yourself with that I chose to move out of my own violation, no one forced me to."

Reader gave an awkward smile and wrung their hands together.

"Alright, but I still feel bad-," Wanderer sighed at Reader, "let me finish! I feel bad so if you need any help come to me okay?"

Wanderer looked like he was about to turn down the offer until Nahida interjected.

"Actually since you both are moving in how about we all take a shopping trip to buy decorations, you can then ask Reader for advice on what to buy, two birds in one stone."

"A shopping trip sounds nice," Reader said and looked at Wanderer with hopeful eyes.

Wanderer closed his eyes and sighed.

"It seems you won't let this go, fine then let me put these stuff down and we can go down to the market."

Nahida and Reader looked at each other with a smile. It was going to be a fun trip.

.

.

.

The sunset this day was a bright crimson and was fading into orange at the horizon. There was no cloud in sight. the people were gathered near the central temple in Sumeru. One of the Creator's temples. Reader grimaced.

They adjusted their hood once again feeling nervous not to get caught. Wanderer held their hand more tightly and they gave a squeeze back feeling thankful.

Soon one of the heads of the religion came out near the podium.

The people were confused and some were curious but it was clear soon everyone would find out what the gathering was for.

Nahida stepped up as well, and she began to speak. Then the priest took over and Reader watched everyone's face turn to shock and outrage.

Impostor.

Reader clenched their jaw and held Wanderer's hand tighter. He did not flinch or let go.

Nahida and the priest calmed the people down in the end but there was still much tension left.

By the end of it Reader and Wanderer left the place.

.

.

.

They met Nahida outside of a meeting room. She looked exhausted and Reader's heart ached. With clumsy hands, they took out a juice bottle they had.

"You look tired, please take some."

Nahida gave a small smile and nodded.

"Thank you."

Her voice was small and a bit hoarse no doubt from all the talking. Once again Reader felt awful not being able to do anything, especially since Nahida was a dear friend.

"Please don't worry about me I am fine, as an Archon this is one of the many duties I must attend to," her face turned more serious looking at Reader, "I am afraid we are not done yet this is your turn now."

Reader's shoulders squared and they nodded. Right, it was their turn now. No more running away and this time they were not alone either. Reader looked at their friends and gave a reassuring smile.

Nahida smiled and nodded at them before turning and opening the door.

It wasn't as intimidating as they had imagined when they entered the room. It was decided for Reader's sake they would ask the acolyte and Archons who would be able to attend to come and not tell anything of the importance of the meeting. Naturally since the recent announcement from the church most would be busy, only those who had time would come and it would not be a large group. It was better for Reader to start off small Nahida had recommended and they agreed.

The Archon’s that were able to attend were unsurprisingly Venti and Zhongli. Yet most people in the room would be unaware of the importance of such figures.

As they entered Nahida stepped in front of them while Wanderer walked behind them, they felt rather safe this way.

The others who had arrived were Diluc, Lisa, Cyno, Kujo Sara and Chlorinde. Quite the cast had come. Now all of their eyes were on the trio but mostly on Reader as they stood in front.

Nahida stepped up to speak but Reader beat them to it putting a hand in front of her, all while still looking at their audience.

The sky outside was just as red there was an odd silence in the wind. The shadows on the acolytes' faces deepened and their eyes became glaring embers of accusation evident on their eyes.

Impostor.

They had thought a lot about what to say, and there were many words and accusations they wanted to scream at the top of their lungs until Reader's voice became hoarse and dry. Yet what were words when actions could speak louder?

They took out the same kitchen knife from before on that day from their pocket. They did not bother to look at their reactions. Reader took out their palm and cut it and watched as it bled a brilliant gold. They were still unused to the sight themselves and took a moment to admire it.

They heard a sharp breath. Before anyone could speak they threw the knife onto the table.

Reader then left the room.

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Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc @vianitry

[wandasaura]

— 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

🫐⊹ ˚ . 18+, men dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰🪩꒱ ♡ ･ full masterlist ✧

[ ꕤ ] — ageplay [ ♡ ] — smut [ ✧ ] — fluff [ 🂱 ] — series [ ౨ৎ ] — au

‎ WANDA MAXIMOFF — parts will be added as written

the plan [ 2.1k ] ♡

wanda’s been neglecting you for weeks, it’s only fair that you get back at her when she least expects it

the quiet game [ 3.7k ] ♡

nobody can beat wanda at her own game, but that doesn’t stop you from trying, and roping natasha into your little game much to her amusement

the colors in autumn, so bright [ 3.3k ] ♡

when the weight of your anxious thoughts becomes too much, wanda knows just how to ease all your worries

bent right to your winds [ 2.8k ] ♡

visiting your wife at work has become a normal part of your routine, but when she gets particularly handsy one afternoon, you find yourself christening her office whether you like it or not.

imgonnagetyouback [ 1.7k ] ♡

after you push wanda to her limits at the pumpkin patch, she returns the favor once you get home

goddamn blaze in the dark [ 2.3k ] ♡

when the ultimate arises of being allowed to orgasm or being allowed to relieve your bladder, the only thing you can do is hope to god that you can be the good girl she expects you to be

NATASHA ROMANOFF — parts will be added as written

gold thats in your eyes [ 2.8k ] ✧

you’ve known natasha romanoff since she first defected to shield, but it’s taken you years to realize that you’ve loved her since then too

let me check [ 2.3k ] ♡

natasha just wants to make sure you haven't broken any rules since she left, and who better to help her out than maria

dress [ 1.7k ] ♡

when the dress you wear to wanda’s halloween party catches the eye of a few too many people, natasha’s left with no other choice than to punish you. coming soon.

WANDANAT — parts will be added as written

you’re on your own kid [ 1.7k ] ✧

when boredom strikes in the absence of your girlfriends, you make friendship bracelets that will tether you together no matter the distance

red wine supernova [ 2.7k ] ♡

when wanda first proposed making you cum in front of her friends, you’d thought she’d been joking, but when maria and carol come over for your annual halloween movie night, you realize she wasn’t at all.

delicate [ 2.2k ] ♡

you’ve carefully planned for wanda and natasha’s return, and an abandoned red bra in the living room lays all of your plans on the table for them to bring to life while you sleep peacefully upstairs

you are in love au ♡ ✧ 🂱 ౨ৎ

when wanda and natasha decide to add a third party their marriage purely, they don’t expect to form a romantic connection with you. they especially don’t expect for you to hate wanda.

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen (completed)

call it what you want ♡ ✧ 🂱 ౨ৎ

nobody really knows what to call your relationship with wanda and natasha, but it doesn’t matter, your happy to be theirs and they’re happy to be yours

one | two

little dove au ꕤ ✧ 🂱 ౨ৎ

the sweetest thing that had ever stumbled into their lives was you; their innocent little dove.

one (discontinued)

its all my love [ 114k ] ♡ ✧ 🂱 ౨ৎ

when you start to develop feelings for your strict slavic language professor, the relationship doesn’t come without strings… or another woman

MARIA HILL — parts will be added as written

i cant promise picket fences [ 2k ] ✧

maria’s always been married to her job, but lately she’s been married to the idea of a future with you

even statues crumble [ 2.7k ] ✧

when exhaustion creeps up on you after a long week, you find yourself coming undone quickly. luckily, maria’s there to hold you close and put all of your broken pieces back together

mastermind [ 1.8k ] ♡

halloween night was always hectic at shield, maria’s lucky enough to come home and release her frustration on you.

let me check [ 2.3k ] ♡

natasha just wants to make sure you haven't broken any rules since she left, and who better to help her out than maria.

WANDANAT X CAPTAIN HILL — parts will be added as written

know my place ♡ ✧ 🂱 ౨ৎ

you spend your nights wrapped up in four different sets of sheets, but graduations approaching, and what you have won’t last forever

one (work in progress)

COLLECTIONS

spring fling

kinktober

ASKS/DRABBLES

[ m ] — asks

[ ꔫ ] — asks — [ ꔫ ] — drabbles

[ ⧗ ] — asks — [ ⧗ ] — drabbles

[ ➳ ] — asks

[ ⧗ꔫ ] — asks — [ ⧗ꔫ ] — drabbles

[traumxrei-archive]

【 iii. picture perfect shopping 】

summary: for a debutante, one must be the most eye catching at the ball. yuu decides to take floyd shopping with them. what they didn’t realize was how picky the prankster would be when it came to their outfit…

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: floyd leech my beloved <33 i love this guy sm, and i feel like he’s one of the twsties who’d have rlly good fashion ^^

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

"Master~" Floyd groaned, fiddling with his tie. "Do I have to wear somethin' so uncomfortable?"

Today Yuu was supposed to go clothes shopping. Floyd, who had previously looked bored out of his mind, suddenly shot up and volunteered himself. And since none of the others protested, the rest was history.

"Why not?" The corners of Yuu's lips twitched as they buttoned Floyd's vest.

Yuu supposed that they had a bit of a mischievous streak when it came to their own maids. Especially with Floyd Leech. It wasn't often that they had something to tease the maid with.

Floyd grabbed their hand, stopping them in their tracks, "Aren't I supposed to dress you?" 

"I suppose," Yuu glanced up, his eyes boring into theirs. "But wouldn't you rather do something more interesting instead?"

Floyd seemed to switch tactics, "Can't I wear my normal uniform? These pants are too stuffy."

Yuu thought about it. About the way Floyd preferred loose skirts that fell just above his knees. Or the way his apron was always stained with something or another from running around all day. Wearing fitted pants probably felt strange in retrospect.

But they had to appreciate how Floyd looked from an aesthetic point of view. The pants all but accentuated his height, coupled with a fitted coat and vest. Floyd looked the spitting image of a young master rather than a maid. (They patted themself on the back for choosing such a perfect outfit.)

"Hmm, but you look handsome like this too," They smiled because Floyd was always weak when it came to compliments.

They knew they won the argument as soon as Floyd released a long sigh "If Master says so~"

"Besides, we aren't trying to attract attention. If it weren't for the ball..."

Floyd grinned then, "Don'tcha worry, all I gotta do is get you lookin' the best at the ball, right Master?"

Turned out that Floyd was quite picky when it came to clothing. Maybe that was why Jade seemed quite apologetic as he was sending them off. What they thought would be a simple shopping trip turned out to be a quest for "only the best that fit Master," as Floyd put it.

"This material...isn't it on the cheaper side?"

Or, "Nah, this color doesn't match your eyes."

Or, their personal favorite, "Master, you're rich, so shouldn't you get a bigger rock?"

Yuu would’ve laughed at all of Floyd’s comments if it wasn’t considered rude to the store owners. The good thing was that Floyd had basically done the hard part for them. He had chosen a suitable outfit on their behalf, swathing them in Night Raven grey, adorned with gold trimmings. And then there were the boots made out of leather from a foreign land. Yuu probably would've chosen without worrying too much about quality if it weren't for Floyd, but he seemed determined to watch over their purchases like a hawk. 

Their feet were getting a bit tired, but Yuu couldn't bring themself to say no when Floyd entered another store.

"This time we'll find a good brooch," Floyd said as he opened the door, letting them into the store. "Something bi~g and shiny so that those garbage minnows won't look down on you."

"I'm sure I don't need it," They reassured.

Yuu knew why Floyd was worried. There were plenty of unsavory rumors going around about them, after all. It had been happening for a long time, ever since they attended NRC. 'The young heir is socially inept', or 'A mere teen cannot inherit the Night Raven Duchy, much less an orphan!', or even their least favorite rumor, 'The loyalty of their staff is due to their status.' It didn't matter much to them anyway. By the end of their Debutante, they would make sure that no one would be able to run their mouths about the Duchy or their people.

"Welcome, customers!" The salesman greeted cheerily. "Please have a seat." They both took a seat, and soon the scent of tea leaves seemed to fill the room as they waited. Floyd was already eyeing the display cases, eyes calculating. 

The store owner poured them each a cup of tea. His eyes glanced between the two of them before finally landing on Floyd, “What would you like to see, good sir?”

Ah. It seemed that this store owner had mistaken them to be a servant, and Floyd their master. It made sense, given the more simplistic clothing they decided to use if only to disguise their shopping trip. Floyd expression had dropped. They could feel the anger starting to radiate from the maid.

“Hey,” There was a cold expression on Floyd’s face. “Don’t look down on my Master like that.” Oh Sevens.

They tugged at his sleeve, before whispering, “Floyd, don’t—" 

“Master?” The owner glanced at them for a moment, not even noticing that he interrupted them. “Are you sure?”

And that seemed to be the final straw for Floyd.

He slammed his hand on the table with a loud bang and Yuu's heart felt like it stopped in their chest. Horror dawned on them as they watched the table shake, the tea set wobbling before shattering with a spectacular sound. CRASH! Hot tea spilled all over the surface of the table, splashing Floyd's arm.

“Floyd!" They hurriedly grabbed his arm, jerking it from the steaming puddle of tea.

Floyd continued to glare at the man, “It seems there’s a minnow who doesn’t know his place.”

They injected as much authority as they could into their voice, “Floyd Leech, I want you to calm down. This behavior is far from appropriate.” They watched as Floyd’s shoulders tensed, conflict passing his expression. The store owner didn’t dare to move either, face frozen in shock.

An eternity seemed to pass before Floyd released a harsh breath, “As your benevolence wishes, Master.” A frustrated expression crossed Floyd’s face before he was turning toward them, sinking to the ground. His forehead pressed against their knee, and Yuu fought not to comfort Floyd for a second.

Instead, they looked up. Yuu stared at the spilled tea with disdain, “Well? Clean up the mess. I'll compensate for the broken tea set.” 

“Y-Yes, of course,” The man seemed to sweat even more as he bowed. “And...may I know your name?” The nerve of him to ask after all that.

“Your ignorance astounds me. Most know me as the heir to the Night Raven Duchy.” And the owner turned white as a sheet. Good. That should teach him not to forget their face ever again. As the man stumbled out, they turned their attention to Floyd.

Yuu finally let their hand card into Floyd’s hair, “Floyd. You’re not upset with me, are you?”

“‘M not,” His voice was muffled, and they could feel him press his cheek against their knee. “Are you mad at me?”

They let out a light laugh, brushing the hair out of Floyd’s eyes. He was staring right at them now. “I’m not. I understand why you were offended. Now he’ll never forget my face for as long as he lives.” Floyd had a bleeding heart when it came to those that challenged their status, more than any of their other maids. And that big of a blunder coupled with the fact that the debutante was soon… It was no wonder Floyd had snapped.

"But Master..." Floyd was pouting now. "You don't hafta compensate him."

"I have to compensate him for the damageds. But the Night Raven Duchy will never give him another penny ever again," Yuu held up their palm. "Now show me your hand.”

Floyd obediently lifted his arm, which was all but soaked in tea, “It doesn’t hurt.” The skin was reddened slightly, and they frowned, wishing that they had intervened quicker.

“Still, we should have the doctor take a look later. And you should get changed,” Yuu traced over the wetness of his sleeve. “I…have your uniform. It's in our carriage, down the block.”

Floyd’s head shot up, eyes glittering, “Really?”

They nodded, sheepishly, “If you really were uncomfortable in those clothes, I wasn’t going to force you to keep wearing it for the whole— Woah—“ Floyd stood up, leaving the store before they could finish their sentence.

The owner finally returned. They wondered if he timed it so that Floyd would leave before he entered. They glanced at him, “Do you happen to have a fitting room here?”

“E-Excuse me? This is a jewelry store, but we—“ The door opened almost violently as Floyd walked back in, expression dangerously dark once more. They tapped a finger against their arm. The owner coughed, “W-We have an empty storage room at the back, p-please go ahead, your grace.”

“Thank you,” Yuu brushed off their clothes before offering a hand to Floyd. “Shall we?” Floyd seemed happy to lead them to the back, and more than happy to change back into his normal attire.

Yuu chuckled at the sight of the lopsided headband and the carelessly tied apron. Riddle and Jamil would have a heart attack if they saw what Floyd looked like as he exited the store.

Floyd stretching ahead of them, “Kinda wish I could've beaten him up a little~”

"Floyd Leech, that is unacceptable," They said with mock seriousness, as Floyd laughed cheerily.

And watching Floyd skipping down the streets, pointing to another store up ahead, well... They couldn't say no.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

[ prev chapter | series post | next chapter ]

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 16

Just one more chapter left, and in cased you missed it, I won't be doubling up on chapters per day this week. The last chapter will be out next week.

Doubling up really killed the numbers for these stories, half the time people were only reacting and commenting on the SECOND chapter.

But don't worry, what this means is that your favorites you've been seeing snippets of on WIP will get quicker releases this way.

In this Eddie's rut progresses as normal, they talk about Steve's status, and Eddie and Benny learn some very interesting things about golden omegas.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15

****

Eddie came to and was sure that at least a day had passed, but he looked at the clock on Steve’s nightstand and frowned. It had only been five hours since his rut had started. He looked in the wastebasket and there were only three condoms in it which fit the time frame.

He looked around, but Steve wasn’t there. He sat up and the sheet that had been covering his waist slid off. He looked down and saw that his dick was sheathed with another condom.

There was some of Steve’s slick on the sheets, but considering Eddie was still in them, he figured Steve couldn’t change them yet.

He could hear Steve humming to a beat in the kitchen and padded out there.

He smiled fondly as he watched the omega dance around his kitchen to the music in his head. Bopping and hopping as he made a wholesome snack.

“That snack looks good, baby,” he said, his alpha rumbling happily, “but I would rather eat you.”

Steve squeaked. “Eddie! You’re awake! How do you feel?”

For the first time since he woke up, he took stock of his body, really examining it.

“Warm, sated...” he said furrowing his brow, “happy?”

Steve beamed at him. “Yay! That means your rut is progressing as it should. It seems like your body is adjusting better to the low light and you’re more lucid.”

Eddie came up behind him and buried his nose into Steve’s scent gland. “All because of you, sweetness.”

Steve squawked when Eddie picked him and spun him around.

When Eddie finally put him down Steve swatted at him playfully. “You absolute menace.”

Eddie cackled. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve turned around in his arms and kissed him deeply. Their cocks brushed against each other and he let out a low moan.

“So good...”

Eddie nipped at Steve’s chin. “Let’s get some food in us and then I want something else in you.”

Steve snorted. They ate and hydrated before Eddie picked Steve up bridal style and carried him back to the bedroom.

Eddie could feel himself sliding back into the blind haze of his rut, but the scent of the omega underneath him stirred some distant memory, but it was lost in the next moment when Steve moaned.

The pattern continued like that for the five days. Steve and Eddie taking care of each other while Eddie was lucid, Steve taking care him when he wasn’t.

Eddie had never experienced a rut that had gone so smooth. He understood why alphas paid top dollar for an escort to service their ruts if every one was like this.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend another rut without Steve for as long as he was biologically able to experience ruts.

Each time he became lucid, he would become aware for longer. The last day having two hours before the rut took over him again.

But he used those two hours wisely. He talked to Steve.

“Baby,” Eddie said, from the sofa, “come sit for a bit. You know it won’t hit again for awhile, you might as well relax.”

Steve looked over at him and smiled. He padded over to the sofa and curled up onto Eddie’s lap.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured into Eddie’s neck.

“I’m good,” Eddie replied. “This was worth every penny. I see why it’s so popular.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m glad that it’s available to alphas that can’t afford escorts through clinics.”

“That’s a new thing, though right?” Eddie asked. “I don’t remember seeing them when I first presented.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. “It’s something that a lot of the major escort houses pushed for in recent years, if all alphas can get the same level of care that the rich do, then it lowers the chances of alphas turning feral from bad ruts.”

Eddie grinned. “It would have happened in the last five years or so, would it? Like say when a particular omega became popular?”

Steve blushed but didn’t deny it. Alpha health was something he had been passionate about for awhile. Helping everyone no matter how much money someone had was just the start of what he wanted to do. Mandating sex education for alphas. It was mandated for omegas and beta, but not alphas, because ‘alphas instinctively knew what to do’ with omegas. Which was bullshit.

“I thought so,” Eddie said.

Steve smiled back. “I’ve even got a non-profit going setting up education booths outside high schools for alphas to get pamphlets and other material about their reproductive health.”

“Ooh, ooh!” Eddie said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “We should throw a gala like the one where we met to get the awareness out there.”

“That’s a great idea, Eds,” Steve said, kissing Eddie’s jaw.

They settled down into a warm silence for awhile just taking in each other’s soothing presence.

Eddie nuzzled Steve ear to wake him. “Hey, you tired, sweetness?”

Steve roused himself and looked up at him bleary eyed. “I guess I am. You see this rough and tumble alpha has been keeping my hole hot and full for the few days. Trying to keep up with him is tiring me out.”

Eddie cackled. “Yeah, if he wears you out so bad, you should blacklist him or something.”

“I would, but I’m in love with his cock so...”

Eddie’s head reared back in mock indignation. “Excuse you!”

Steve laughed. He pressed a kiss to Eddie’s scent gland and the alpha purred. Steve’s omega chirped happily in response.

“I love your scent,” Eddie murmured. “It’s not like other escorts I’ve met.”

Steve looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Chrissy, Elinor, Tommy,” Eddie said. “All smell too sweet. Like fruit rotting on the vine. A terrible but apt metaphor for their condition. But you smell spicy. But in sweet kind of way.”

“I do?” Steve really never thought about his own scent before.

Eddie nodded. “Gareth described it like Mexican hot chocolate. You know the kind that is spiced with peppers?”

Steve nodded back.

“Did you ever think that you might be a golden omega?” Eddie continued.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Never. Like why would I? I’m not special.”

“That’s highly debatable, sweetheart,” Eddie admonished. “But your scent and everything you’ve told me about your family. It’s very possible you could be.”

“Is that why you wanted to court me?” Steve asked, soft and small. Like a mouse.

Eddie pulled Steve in closer. “No baby, I didn’t figure it out until later. I wanted to court you because you are funny and amazing and everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate.”

He lift Steve’s chin up and kissed him deeply. “Plus, I set up the rut way before I put the pieces together. Everything was set to protect me, but it seems to me that it may end up protecting you, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know, golden omegas can only get pregnant during their heats,” Eddie said. “And since I’m a known scent breaker...”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “You think there is a chance I’ll go into a mini heat, don’t you?”

Eddie nodded. “When I first booked you, it was one of the things Robin was adamant about protecting you from.”

“She’s amazing like that,” Steve murmured.

“She really is,” Eddie cooed. “But it looks like our time is up, honey.”

Steve could feel Eddie’s cock harden under his ass. “Come to bed with me, alpha,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.”

Eddie let Steve pull him to his feet and they walked hand in hand to Steve’s bedroom for the last of Eddie’s rut.

****

When Eddie came to he was not in Steve’s apartment, he was in a smaller hotel room lying on a comfy sofa.

“I’m going to have to burn that sofa after all this,” Robin groused from a nearby armchair. “It will reek of alpha for months if I don’t. I can smell you from here.”

Eddie sat up. He was dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a loose white tank top. No underwear, but then he hadn’t brought any. He ran his fingers through his greasy and sweat slicked hair.

“Fuck,” Eddie grumbled.

“Your manager, Benny sent over a duffel of clothes for you for the next three days.”

Eddie saw the small duffel and snatched it up. “May I please request the use of your shower, milady?”

Robin laughed. “Please do.”

Eddie dashed for the door she pointed to and slammed the door behind him. He stripped his clothes and quickly got under the still cold water. He didn’t want to wait for it to heat up because he felt that gross. His dick was most clean because Steve took the time to wipe him down between condom changes, but he washed it good anyway.

The next thing he focused on was his hair, he had to wash it several times before it felt like it was supposed to. He ran conditioner through the ends of his curls with his fingers, gently massaging it in.

Then he worked on getting the sweat and stink off his body. He hated washing away Steve’s scent, but if he didn’t get clean, Eddie was going to scratch his eyeballs out.

Finally satisfied with how clean he was, he rinsed out his conditioner and stepped out.

He dried off quickly and rummaged through the bag.

Eureka!

Underwear.

Eddie got dressed and then cleaned up his mess, hanging up towels and making sure there wasn’t water everywhere. Uncle Wayne raised him better than to make a mess of someone else’s home.

He opened the door to find Robin and Benny waiting for him.

“Hey, Ben Ten, Birdie,” he greeted, concern dripping from every pore. “What’s happening?”

Benny smiled. “It’s nothing bad. Robin and I were just wrapping up the end of the contract.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped in relief. He had almost forgotten about the whole thing because he was madly in love with Steve. He sat down on the sofa next to Benny.

“So everything is good?” he asked to be sure.

“Yup!” Robin said brightly. “You are now free to pursue the omega of your dreams.”

Eddie chuckled.

He thought for a moment, licking the bottom of his lip.

“Hey, Robin,” he asked, looking down at his clasped hands, “has an escort ever turned out to be a golden omega?”

Robin and Benny shared a glance.

“You think Steve might be one?” she asked. “Because if he is, that would be fucking hilarious.”

Eddie’s head snapped up.

“His parents have called him useless and a disgrace for being infertile for over a decade,” Robin explained. “To have him be a golden omega who could have been sold for ten to twenty times what he got auctioned for? That would be poetic justice.”

He nodded. “So do you think there’s a chance?”

“Sure,” she said with a half shrug. “The agency doesn’t shout it from the rooftops but yeah, there have been a couple of golden omegas that have come out of Starcourt.”

“How did they find out?” Benny asked, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going.

“A combination of a couple different ways,” Robin said. “The first is how frequent their heats are. Most golden omegas go into heat more often then regular fertile omegas to make up for the fact they can only get pregnant during their heats.”

Eddie nodded, “And Steve’s are within the normal range?”

She waved her hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s more times a year than a regular omega, but not outside the possibility if you know what I mean.”

“So say a regular omega has four heats a year and golden omega has eight,” Benny said, “Steve’s heat is somewhere in the middle?”

Robin nodded. “Exactly. The other thing is scent. Which you know Steve’s is unusual. But it’s unusual for an omega full stop.”

Benny and Eddie shared a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Alphas scents are spices, like cinnamon, clove, cardamon, or spicy like peppers, or natural woody scents like pine or cedar,” she explained. “Omegas are fruit and floral scents. Sometimes flavors like chocolate or coffee. That includes golden omegas. Infertile omegas have what is always described as rotted fruit. Super sickly sweet.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. “But Steve’s is a mix between the two scents?”

Robin nodded again. “Right. The third thing that helps identify a non-tested golden omega is their resistance to scent breakers.”

“Fuck,” Eddie said. “That means he’s not a golden omega. I thought for sure he was. I even told him he was. That he was so special and precious beyond measure.”

She shook her head. “No, Eddie. That’s where you’re wrong. There is a final thing that helps identify if the omega in question is a golden or not.”

Eddie frowned, “What’s that?”

“There’s a reason golden omegas get their choice of any alpha in the country, if not world,” she said fiercely. “And despite what the media likes to paint it as, it’s not just the rich and elite.”

“It’s not?” Benny asked.

Robin shook her head again. “They’re looking for their soulmate.”

It was like someone had scooped out Eddie’s stomach. “Their what?”

“Soulmate,” Robin said. “The person who completes them. Someone who can break through their scent breaking resistance, someone who’s scent compliments their own, someone who when they share their heats and ruts it goes just about as perfectly as two humans can get. And if they meet that person?”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed.

“Oh.”

****

Soulmates! *jazz hands* Yeah, sorry I couldn't help myself.

Part 17

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[darlingofvalyria]

As the Princess of the Realm's most favoured maid, there are certain liberties you are privy to demand. Jealousy of the people surrounding your lady is not one of them. Amused, Rhaenyra wishes to show her jealous little darling that there is nothing to worry about.

╰┈��� PROMPTS ❝ MIND MANIPULATION, BLOOD PLAY ❞

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 2,763 ] [ masterlist ] | Vampire!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Maid!Reader

contains— smut, fluff - monsterfucking, hurt/comfort, jealousy, allusions to murders and kidnapping (not reader), mind manipulation, mentions of blood - this is a darkish fic - nsfw: monsterfucking, v and v sex, blood play(?), thigh riding, dubcon - no betas.

a/n— countess bathory rhae version. + Quick note: I don't actually remember/know if a crown princess is higher in stature to a queen consort. I know a queen at least is higher than a crown princess... but in this fic, i'm making it so that a king's direct/crowned heir is higher in status to that of a queen consort, as in what i want you to understand here that a king's chosen heir has bigger power than someone who is only married to royalty and title. this is of course different than the show but eh. + comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You understand why they salivate after her like starved dogs for a hunt. Prowling, on the verge of humping the very ground she walks on.

Your princess is every consonant and vowel of her royal visage and title, adorned in jewels and gold, Valyrian steel interlaced across her throat and waist. Fat rubies in her ears, weighted layers of gold gleam across her collarbone with a Valyrian steel necklace that strung an almost black amethyst drop nestled in her bosom.

Rings of all kind adorned her fingers as she held a goblet, amused by whatever topic the Riverland Lord was saying with gusto, fat stomach straining against a leather belt.

In any feast, she is the star, unable to be shadowed by her enemies now that her confidence had bloomed. She presided every conversation, lords and ladies following her red mouth as much as her words, dominating circles of power with ease that surpassed her gender.

The Heir to the Iron Throne. The Realm's Delight.

You had never been prouder to say you serve such a woman, body and soul.

And at the same time, you cannot help the feeling of jealousy to flash like a quick strike of a dagger. It is not your mistress' fault that people stave off the attention she gives them. It isn't their fault either as you understand the sentiment. Once you've played in her hand, you are evermore enraptured by her.

But you're different. In a way.

As soon as the lord— a Lord Erodd Mudd, a vassal of House Tully who had proudly proclaimed to be an eager follower of the future Black Queen, henceforth his vassals flooding gifts and compliments to your princess — had gotten too close for comfort and too red from the overflowing Arbor Red, that as soon as you see the quick flash of Princess Rhaenyra's comfort threatened, you spring into action.

You move about dancing bodies and beautifully crafted ladies to get to her, your eye meeting her sword shield, the Ser Strong, with a nod. You know your strengths and weaknesses; wrangling a drunken lord physically is not one of them. Neither is a violent drunk, and there had been enough unsavoury gossip of the Lord Mudd for you to be on edge the minute he approached the princess.

You take a low bow in front of them at your sudden interruption, your voice calm but firm. "My princess, the Prince Joffrey is ready to be put to bed."

Rhaenyra smiles, gladdened of your quick feet and quicker thinking. "Thank you—"

"Audacious!" Lord Mudd squeaks, the spittle and stench of alcohol almost makes you grimace. Almost. "The princess is talking to a lord, she does not want—"

"— the princess does not permit others to speak on her behalf, much less about what she wants or thinks," you can't help but snap. "Please refrain yourself from doing so, my lord."

He purples in offence, fist shaking that you sidle up to move in front of the princess. "Oh why, how dare—"

You let out a breathless exhale at the appearance of Breakbones and his meaty hand on the lord's shoulder. "My lord. I'm afraid you've enough to drink. The night grows long." As the lord opens his mouth to retort, Harwin's smile sharpens is enough of a warning that he swallows and jerkily nods.

He bows to Rhaenyra. "G-good night, your grace."

Rhaenyra smiles amusedly, as if she is letting you in on a joke. "And to you, my lord. I will have a maestre prepare a concoction my... little brother uses in a time of head aches. He so prefers the sweet Red such as you."

As he bows again gratefully, Lord Mudd manages to shoot you a final glare before being escorted by Ser Harwin. For a brief moment as the revelry continues on, most guests now well into their cups and dreams to kiss your princess' arse, she laughs quietly in the privacy of your closure.

You snort softly. "I am glad the night has amused you thus far, my princess."

She giggles again. "How can I not? You had been glaring at the poor fool for the better time of the night. He had thought that he had offended me in some way, and was trying to appease with all sorts of ridiculous promises."

"Hm. What can a small vassal house by the name that means 'wet dirt' could possibly offer the princess of the realm?" You can't help but be haughty. Though you do recognise you are being a bit unfair to the lord, for he isn't just the only one who had pried the attention of the princess all night.

"A pretty new maid," Rhaenyra muses, making your blood freeze. "He said he's got a pretty collection of wenches, all well trained by his mother, whom I do know has a heavy teeth with her servants. Lord Tully has endorsed them so. Lady Tully as well. Oh, and that he has daughters fit to be ladies in waiting, should I want for more... high browed ladies."

You inhale deeply. "It is indeed... a good idea to expand your ladies. You are the Heir, higher in stature to the Queen Consort who has an army of ladies both in Great Houses and Vassals." You nod jerkily. "It is a smart idea, my princess."

Rhaenyra smirks, enjoying far too much the inner turmoil of your little head. You don't notice it, as you had perfected serving her for such a time and she is sure onlookers would see only a lady conversing with her maid, but when you are upset and trying not to show it, you blink three times as if wrangling your thoughts in order. There is only a small dip in your serene mouth that always makes her want to press it. Move it around. Then maybe bite you.

But if she touched you now, she would not stop. She knows her hunger very well, and in preparation for the three-day celebrations as well as handling her duties between council meetings and audiences with the common folk— she had not drank in a while.

If she touches you now, there would be no care for titles or eyes.

When she shudders faintly at the image, your keen eye sees it immediately. You see the faint pallor, the inch of peakiness. She had been consuming more and more raw meat, but animals barely curb the thirst.

"Shall I prepare your feast, my princess?"

She blinks at you, surprised. "My feast? Surely this is enough."

You're unable to stop your sigh as you look away. "My princess, surely, you don't think such a feat should go unrewarded? Lords of Great Houses are swayed to your cause. Their vassals are following suit. Even if a Great Council is demanded once more in your reign, the tide will turn for your favour."

"You do not know that." Rhaenyra laughs lightly as you are already shaking your head. "We should not tempt fate."

"You had been doing your duty unto the realm as its heir and its delight. We are tempering any whisper of revolt. Your win is marked in stone," you insist. "A reward is only just."

You scoot closer, pinching your voice low. Rhaenyra holds her breath with a sharp intake of air, a coil, nothing but a whisper, of your scent finds her nostrils and her hunger tightens in her stomach that her fangs sharpen. She bites her bottom lip hard.

"My apologies," you whisper. "But I know your hearing turns mortal when you have not eaten in a while. You must eat. The bustle for the celebration has been a good excuse to hire more alongside what we needed."

Her eyes flash. "... Maidens?"

"At least four of them, my princess."

She gasps, inhaling quickly and your scent comes first, the sweet imprint of your blood hums her own, but her eyes widen at the thick stench of maidens right in her room. Your gift. For your beloved. You smile, despite the niggling, pinch of jealousy that has a thick hold on your neck and Rhaenyra can smell it.

"The revelries will continue on," you say with finality, bowing. "The Prince Jacaerys is doing well with the Northern delegates thus far, and the Young Prince Lucerys has charmed the pirate lords from the Free Cities, as well as the Dornish Prince and his... mistresses. We are well here. I will keep an eye on your heirs. Enjoy yourself, my princess."

The revelries go well into the Hour of Owl before you give nod to the last of the guards and servants tasked with ensuring the more raucous guests find their way to their beds, moving along the quiet flutter of candlelight and sharp, slanting shadows like a wraith. Or a ghost. No one pays you any mind, and they know better.

You sweep straight into the princess' apartments, locking the doors behind you. The iron stench of blood is already thick here, seeping through the corners and clinging to the tapestries. You're used to it, even if the first times had been shaky in your memories. But your actions are a routine, moving to the tub filled thick with blood, almost to the brim, moving a finger through it, beads of blood clinging to you when you raise your hand, falling in slops back to the tub.

You hum along your duties, the actions of a routine is familiar... if not surgically placed into your mind, though the uncomfortable reminder strikes your head in a low, dull thud. Worrisome thought is a blunt knife to the steel guard your princess has wrought in your head.

For your protection, my sweet, Rhaenyra had purred, feeling her nails scratch in the fragments of your malleable brain.

Candles are flickering by the time your princess strides into her room, the heavy door deadbolting with a heavy thud. The stench of blood and her scent— grapefruit and vanille, a touch of something more ancient, cloying and heavy — thickens as you bow, your fingers in unlacing and getting her off the bloodied dress. It’s relatively clean, and she throws you a smirk for it. She knows you hate having to share just as much as she, and knows even better you would never make much fuss, but your chest warms at her thoughtfulness regardless.

She sinks with ease, a low, satiated hum escapes her lips.

“I will assume this is another present?” she teases. “No maidens?”

“Not after the Lannisport incident, no.” You regard her weightily but she only laughs. Sunk in blood, her paleness almost makes her glow. A goddess if nothing else. But her cheeks are also fuller, vibrancy clinging to her gold spun hair and gaze. “These were just as much eager to serve the crown as the young women were eager to serve their princess.”

Rhaenyra’s laugh is spoilt as much as it is indulgent. “And I am assuming you never told them the length or width of their servitude?”

She really does feel much better if she is in such a teasing mood.

“No,” theres a petulant, almost offended notch in your tone that you dont hide as well, if youre ever truly trying to hide it. The day wanes and the moon waxes, and you have been obedient all day.

Rhaenyra bites her lip. You have been good. And deserving. She leans forward, pressing herself back. “Come.”

You still, holding onto her oils. “I still have to wash your hair, princess, it has been an arduous day."

“It has, and you have done so well in pleasing me that I require you here, with me.” Her voice pitches, irises molting to a startling black. Your spine straightens and your gaze glosses. She hums, delighted to see that the full force of her prowess is back. Though it isnt truly much. The strings from your mind and body is one that she has owned long before. “Take off your dress, sweet girl, thats it, faster— and here, right on top of me.”

You are awake and dreaming, its a state you know quite well, but you move where she wants you, your strings hers for the taking, and you are up to your navel in blood before your mind catches up with thought that you are bare, bare before your princess as she looks up, her hands, soft and cold and wet with blood, moulding against the divots of your soft flesh.

She pulls you down with ease, so careful with your skin. Her hunger though fulfilled, the remnants of the creature within her still breathes. Your heartbeat is a siren song and the urge to devour you, to sink her teeth right in that throbbing, fluttering pulse— four maidens down her belly and her hunger for you is still so strong.

Your mind is your own when you have settled righto n her thighs, bracketing her between your own. A shuddering gasp leaves your mouth as she draws her hands from thighs to your centre to your breast to your jaw, pulling you to meet her mouth in a soft exploration between tongue and teeth.

It is kissing for beasts, for creatures trying to find pleasure unknown to them but hungering for it; her tongue tangling with yours, licking at the roof your mouth, her teeth, sharpened, tugging and grating against your soft lips. It is gluttonous as it is guttural, and you feel debased. But you like it, you like the clouding of your mind from pleasure, chasing the hums from her throat and smiling from her little laughs.

It is no wonder that your body craves, hips moving in an insistent, errant sway against her thigh that she laughs once more, finish suckling a bruise on your arched neck.

"Sīr needy hae iā līve, So needy like a whore," she purrs against your skin. "Are you my," she grips your buttocks and pulls you to her, though you stumble, you are still relatively on your knees and your pearl that is craving for attention hits against her stomach and you gasp, "little whore?"

"Yes," you murmur, arms wounding against her neck as she adjusts you more comfortably on her lap, watching intensely at your pleasure as she sits you down and starts moving your hips in a rhythm. "Y-yes I am."

She snakes a hand between you to pinch at your clit. You jolt.

"Manners."

"Yes, my queen!" You sob, head falling on her shoulder as your hips go faster, the blood is spilling, the smell of iron is so strong it fills your lungs, but your first relief is near and Rhaenyra hates denying you pleasure.

Even her punishments have always been to over feed you your own pleasure, indulge in the staccato wails broken by whines as your last peak has barely finished before she is making you reach it again.

"There she is, my sweet girl."

She helps your thighs, moving you faster and faster as she drinks in your skewered brows and hanging mouth, taking a breast into her mouth and laving it with her tongue, groaning at the blood and suckling deep. You will be blooming with bruises come morn and she cannot wait to see the spring she has created on your skin. You are so delicate, so... human. Your fragility is a beauty she enjoys.

Like right now, when your pleasure catches up to you fast and she has made it a mission not to touch your cunt at all, maintaining your movement even as you whine deep in your chest, your forehead falling to her shoulder as you twitch and shudder. When you garble her name, falling your please, p-please, 'smuch, she stops, running her hands instead to your sides, cupping your breasts faintly before she's nudging against your nose until you give in with what she is silently asking: soft, tugging kisses.

"Deep breaths, sweet one," she whispers against your mouth when she pulls away, "I will take more of your pleasure. All the sweet maidens in these lands are nothing to the taste of you." For emphasis, her other hand is already between your thighs, brushing insistently against your pearl.

Teasing, always teasing. You shudder.

"Your pleasure is much your reward as it is mine. Now, once more. On my fingers." She bares her fangs, another light laugh that tugs at your core because it is full of promises. "Then against my cunt."

Because Rhaenyra gives as much as she takes.

And she wants everything you... 'willingly' give.

[maximumzombiecreator]

I've read all the stuff you've written about the megadungeon and some of Alexandrian's posts on it, and I think the stuff about wandering monsters and restocking rooms is absolute gold. Do you have any advice on designing dungeon crawl puzzles and traps, or maybe an example of your favorites or go-tos? Everything I find is either the classic "anything can be a puzzle" non-answer or kinda lackluster. I've had some success looking at the Book of Traps supplement for 3.5e d&d, but it feels like advice for puzzle design is a bit thin on the ground.

I'll talk about traps first, then puzzles.

My favourite traps are situation traps. When the party triggers a situation trap, there's no immediate threat to their lives, there's no damage, but the triggering of the trap somehow fundamentally changes the situation and makes it more dangerous. In my big megadungeon post I mentioned an example of one of these: the party triggered a trap that rotated a room, dumping them in a new wing of the dungeon and triggering a long, terrified escape. I love traps like this because a lot of the best and most fun dungeon gameplay happens when the party is pushed to their limits and put in desperate positions. But smart play mostly means trying to avoid those situations. Traps like these create more opportunities for those types of moments.

Probably the simplest situation trap is the classic portcullis trap. The party is walking down a hallway and steps on a trapped floor panel or trips a tripwire or whatever, dropping a portcullis in the middle of the hall. But it doesn't drop in front of the triggerer, it drops a short distance behind, likely splitting the party on opposite sides. You can combine this with an ambush for a good time, but even without it, in a system where lifting a portcullis is non-trivial this becomes a whole situation.

Another one of these I've really enjoyed using is showing the party an extremely deadly monster, something they'd struggle to fight even in the best of circumstances, behind a magic barrier or something where it can't get to them. Later, deeper in the dungeon, they trigger a trap that they can hear cause the magical barrier to drop. No immediate threat, but suddenly the rest of the delve becomes incredibly tense.

The basic structure of a situation trap is that the trigger should fundamentally change the circumstances in a way that is notably more dangerous, but not imminent. The fun for the players is that it immediately becomes a problem for them to start working on. I tend to design these by thinking of fucked up situations and then trying to come up with a mechanical pretense to trigger them. Generally, if I can't think of how I would handle the new situation, it's too harsh, but if I think the players would knowingly trigger it, it's not harsh enough. Also don't invest too much energy into designing these, or you'll be tempted to try to hard to get the players to trigger them. Teleportation and portcullis traps are such classic examples of this in part because they're very low effort to design, so if the players thwart them, no worries.

The second big category of traps I enjoy are set piece traps. These are the big, dramatic traps that pose an imminent threat but are more complex than saving throw vs damage. The room is slowly filling with sand, the statue is rotating and shooting lasers out of its eyes, the floor is slowly turning upside down over a deadly pit, etc.

I think these are fairly easy to design. You have some kind of peril, which is easy to brainstorm (tip: think of things that kill people) in some configuration that is imminently but not instantly lethal. And then you let the players interact with it to try to stop it. I would usually try to make sure you can think of at least a couple of ways to interact with it, but as long as you are clear on what the actual mechanism is, these will usually suggest themselves. Block the sand spouts, cover the statue's eyes, jam the motor rotating the floor, etc.

One thing that I do value doing with these traps is telegraphing them. If the statue is going to rotate and shoot lasers, I'll describe groove marks along the wall, and perhaps with investigation the players will determine that they were burned into the wall. Reckless players can be surprised by these, but cautious players should usually have a sense when they're about to trigger a big trap and what. Usually I'll describe the mechanisms for these as sufficiently complex and deeply built into the construction that they can't be disabled by a basic thieving skills check, but if they can describe a way around the trigger, I'll certainly let them roll for it.

My last big category of traps is simple traps, the ones with a basic trigger (a trapped floor panel, opening a drawer, walking through a beam of light) and a basic effect (a pit opens, a poison needle shoots out, the room gets fireballed) that you get a saving throw against. I still think these are okay, but I think using them effectively depends on how you're using them. Any time I'm using a simple trap, the question I am asking is, what is this accomplishing?

Sometimes they're just there for verisimilitude. In a standard dungeon game setting, sometimes it just feels like "obviously this guy would have a trap on this drawer." In these cases, the trap is there to be found and disabled. I'm not expecting it to trigger. This can give me leave to make the trap really nasty. I'm a big fan of petrification traps in dungeons for example (getting back to where you left the statue of Morningwood the Elf with a Stone to Flesh scroll is a great little sidequest.) But the trap is nasty so the thief can feel good for disabling it. On the rare chance someone gets hit by one of these, it should always provoke a reaction of, "Ugh, yes, obviously that was trapped and I should have anticipated that." Not surprise.

The second way I tend to use these is as setting. The existence of these traps tends to say something about the location and it's denizens. The traps associated with Tucker's Kobolds are great examples of these. Pit traps that can support the weight of a kobold but not a human, trip wires above a kobold's height, trapped hallways that kobolds can avoid via tiny crawlspaces, these speak to the defenses of the kobolds and the way they make the space their own. When deploying traps this way, they're often not meant to be a challenge on their own. If the party is passing through a kobold warren without kobolds, they likely won't trigger any traps, and once they've described how they're proceeding (using poles etc.) I probably wouldn't even roll, I'd just assume they handle them competently. But during a fight these become an active component. And before a fight, they foreshadow the locations' inhabitants. Designing for this use case basically starts by thinking about how the dungeon inhabitants would fortify their space against their enemies and the mechanizing it in a handful of simple ways. Usually it's a good starting point to think of what traps the trap-makers could ignore. What's unique about them? Are they unusually small or large, can they fly, are they immune to poison or fire, etc.

The third way is to set tone, and in this approach I use these very sparingly. Sometimes you want to establish the dungeon as a place that hates you, a place that you should not be, and traps can be a great way to do that. But bogging the game down to a constant crawl of extreme caution isn't desirable. Throwing a handful of simple traps (some of them already triggered and expended, as set dressing) can establish this tone and reward caution without being too disruptive to play. And besides, if I really want to establish a dangerous tone, set piece traps are often more fun for this.

I've covered loosely how I come up with all of these, but in terms of extant examples, there are a few good sources I know. OSR blogs used to have a ton of these, some of which are still around. I won't link any specific ones for... OSR reasons... but if you search for OSR traps you'll find examples. Pathfinder 2e's hazards are also good for these, I especially enjoy their complex traps for set piece traps, and they tend to be conceptually pretty easy to port to other games. I wish more of them were available on AoN. I get the full list from foundry and there's some real winners in there. If Paizo published a full on Bestiary-type book of these I would buy it in a heartbeat.

This has gotten long, so I think I will cover puzzles separately in a reblog of this once I get a chance to write my thoughts down.

[maxislvt]

Fallen into Lust

pairing(s): fallen angel!succubus!agatha harkness x angel!reader

summary: curiosity didn't fare well in heaven, but agatha always had a burning desire to learn more. it was only a matter of time before the angels properly kicked agatha out of heaven. despite what you insist, being pushed from heaven changes an angel even if they hadn't properly fallen.

warnings: religious imagery and discussion, smut, loss of virginity, afab!reader, innocence kink, fingering, oral sex

a/n: shout out to literally the best baby big sister ever @our-blood-is-our-ink for requesting this. I love it so much.

Event Masterlist

Agatha was always an intelligent angel. She was curious about everything since the day she was created. She chewed curiously on her halo and plucked the feathers of her archangel's wings to examine the gold-dusted feathers. 

It was safe to say she never grew out of that phase. She'd read just about every version of the holy book she could get her hands on. Even the ones written by humans that were foolish and twisted the words of her lord. Agatha wanted to know more. She'd sneer at how carelessly humans would write their baseless ideals amongst words so pure and sacred. It was frustrating to see that nearly every holy book had been tainted by the violence of humans. 

To make matters worse, not a single deity, angel, or god seemed worried about it. Some of them were bad enough to encourage or profit from it. They placed bets and laughed as their creations slaughtered each other senselessly. 

Despite their holy status, many other angels didn't seem to care. Agatha's concerns were often met with scuffs and eye rolls. Not a single heavenly body cared as much as she did. Their hatred was so intense they began turning Agatha away. Some would turn their backs on her. 

Not you, though. You were different. Agatha's proclamations were above you, but you were kind enough to stand up for her. When the other angels would gossip or go out of their way to exclude Agatha, you'd be right there to defend her. Maybe you couldn't wrap your head around human politics, but you at least tried to listen. That was all Agatha cared about. You stayed. Even when her rants were incomprehensible and nothing more than a string of frustrated scuffs and grunts. 

Unfortunately, you were pretty popular amongst the other angels. It wasn't a shock. You were practically the perfect angel: kind, understanding, innocent. They'd huddle around you like you were the Messiah just to coo at you and praise you for the most minor thing. Agatha hated it. Not because you didn't deserve that praise, but because she was jealous.

Jealousy was a two-sided street. Every Time you dared to choose Agatha over your friends, she'd have to deal with it. They'd scold her endlessly for taking you away and corrupting you with her "nonsense." 

You'd only vaguely known about the conflict. Your friends would grumble about your tardiness or absence, and Agatha would always give you vague answers when you asked why she didn't get along with your friends. It was nothing more than a personality conflict in your head. Agatha was hungry for knowledge, but your friends were much more easygoing. 

Personality conflicts don't end with ripped wings and cracked halos. 

The day Agatha was brutally shunned from the community of angels was quiet. It made your stomach churn. The other angels said nothing, but you could feel something was off. You spent the entire day roaming around heaven. Then you found something. 

Surrounded by torn feathers and liquid gold laid a deformed halo. You didn't think twice before leaping off the clouds of heaven into the earth. Only gods had the authority to banish someone from heaven. If their halo was still glowing, they'd been pushed off. 

You searched the thick forest for any sign of a fellow angel—feathers, blood, or maybe even another halo. Instead, you found something worse. A silver ring with AH engraved on it.

Agatha had fallen. 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

"Agatha, Agatha!" 

Your voice was hoarse at this point. There was no telling how long you'd been screaming. Time was irrelevant to you know. All that mattered was finding Agatha. Even if she was dead, somebody had to pay for their crimes. The golden trail of blood confirmed your fears. Agatha wasn't cast out of heaven; she'd been pushed. 

"Agatha! Oh, thank heavens you're alive!" The relief of finding Agatha was short-lived. You ran over and immediately tried to help her onto her feet. "Come on, I have to get you back to heaven, and I'll report whoever did this to you." A frown overtook your face when Agatha pushed you away. 

"I can't go back up there. I've fallen." Her voice was weak, and she could barely stand upright. Agatha leaned against the tree for support to avoid staining your sweater. "You..you shouldn't be with me either. Just go back up there and pretend I don't exist." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Being alone was a pretty scary thought, but she couldn't risk you being tainted by Earth. "I've fallen. I couldn't go back up even if I wanted to." 

Your chest felt tight. "No, just because you fell from heaven doesn't mean you're a fallen angel! I saw your halo before I came down there; it was still glowing!" You frantically searched your satchel for gauze and something to clean the wound. "I just have to get you patched up, and then-" 

Agatha's hand reached out and caressed your cheek. "You can't carry me back to heaven by yourself. At least give me some time to heal first." She could never bring herself to make you upset. Deep down, she knew there was no way she could return. Part of her didn't even want to. Even if God extended his grace to her, there was no telling how the other angels would react to her return. "I know somewhere for you to take me." 

The walk was sad and slow.

Agatha seemed reasonably adjusted to living on Earth. She didn't doubt herself as she guided you through the never-ending forest. She wasn't concerned about wildlife or getting lost, even in her weakened state. You would've mistaken her for a nymph if you hadn't known better. It only took about an hour of walking for you to figure out why Agatha was so relaxed. 

She had a cabin. It was pretty large, but you could tell that Agatha used every square inch of it. The shelves were jam-packed with books of all kinds in many different languages. Even though the kitchen was spotless, you could tell she'd been using them for a while. The decor felt so natural to her. All the deep purple furniture was taken care of, but not brand new. 

 You were glad Agatha had somewhere to rest while she recovered, but you felt excluded from her life. Agatha was your closest friend. It wasn't right to feel so alienated in her space. 

Agatha limped to her room before collapsing on the bed. All the pain from walking with untreated wounds had started to catch up to her. Angels healed fast, but without her halo, she'd be bedridden for weeks. "I've always wanted to take you down here," She confessed. 

It made you smile. "I appreciate that." The smell of holy alcohol was awful, but you had to commit. "This is going to burn a bit." You rubbed the alcohol-soaked towel against the ripped skin where Agatha's wings should've been. It was hard to look at, but you suffered through it for her sake. Every feather you plucked came with a hushed apology and a kiss on her back. "They'll grow back soon…I promise." 

Agatha didn't have much faith but wouldn't bring you down with her nihilism. She wasn't even sure you knew what that was. "It'll be a long time until then." She raised her arm so you could tend to the rest of her wounds. She didn’t want to push you away. She didn’t want to suffer another beating, either. There was no telling what being on Earth would do to your mind. Angels were strong, but you were definitely on the softer side. It would be nothing for you to fall victim to the whim of a mountain lion or any other of god’s wild creations. Heaven was the only place for someone as pure and perfect as you. 

You rolled Agatha onto her back so you could see her face. “I don’t mind waiting,” you said. There was a long pause as you thought about what you had said. “Well,” you said, bracing for rejection, “I wouldn’t mind waiting with you.” Earth was new to you, but you figured it’d be no issue if you stayed in the cabin the whole time. Agatha was the only reason you were down here. You had no interest in anything else.

She let out a defeated laugh. How could she ever say no to you? Her hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. “You’ll have to go back to heaven eventually,” she warned. It didn’t hold much water. All you had to do was pout, and you could easily make Agatha change her mind, but she at least had to pretend she wasn’t on the edge of spoiling you rotten. “Every day you spend down here is a day you must stay in heaven, got it?” Agatha extended her pinkie finger out to you. She didn’t know where you got the idea of a pinkie promise, but it was cute. 

Without thinking, you wrapped your pinkie around Agatha’s. You knew it was only a matter of time before Agatha started a pinkie promise. “And you said you’d never start a pinkie promise!” 

Agatha fondly rolled her eyes. "I'll always make an exception if it means keeping you safe." 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

Leaving Agatha was hard, but returning to her was confusing. 

You had spent two weeks on Earth with Agatha before she forced you to return to heaven. It was a dreadfully long time without her. You occupied yourself with your heavenly duties, but not even those could distract you from how much you missed her. 

When you finally saw her again, Agatha looked different. Her hair was curlier and seemed to be growing by the second.  You also noticed there were bags under her eyes. It wasn't typical for an angel's appearance to change so drastically unless they were promoted. 

"Do you think you'll become an archangel when you return?"

Agatha stopped chopping the vegetables in front of her. She knew you would notice the way she was changing. You weren't dumb. Just uneducated. Agatha hated how everyone in heaven fawned over you; she wanted to protect your innocence. "Maybe, but if anyone gets promoted to archangel, it should be you." She cut off the end of a carrot before handing it to you. "You were only here two weeks, and there's already vegetables growing around here." 

You tentatively chewed on the carrot. Then you lit up. 

Literally. 

Your excitement was too much to contain and showed in the form of a blinding light admitted from your halo. It filled the entire cabin within seconds and lasted nearly a whole minute. 

Agatha rabidly blinked and rubbed her eyes. "That's one way to say they taste good," she chuckled. 

You frowned. "I didn't realize Earth was so dim." Heavenly light was the brightest light imaginable. Agatha should've been used to such brightness, but you brushed it off as her eyes adjusted to the forest's darkness. "It's nice to see something that's not white, gold, or silver, but the forests are so dim down here." 

As the day went on, you started noticing other changes about Agatha. 

Being on Earth changed her preferences a bit. When you two would read together, the books were usually nonfiction. It wasn't uncommon for you to sit down and read through an entire book about alchemy or astronomy. It was always fun to watch humans scramble and debate about their inaccuracies about the planet they lived on. 

Now, Agatha seemed interested in more fictional things. Romance was her go-to for reading. You didn't mind it. Love was beautiful, even if it was trapped between print and paper. The problem was that the novels would get weird. Not bad, but sometimes you needed help understanding what was happening.

The only way you'd learn is by asking. 

"I don't know what this means," you confessed. The blush on your face was from shame. Agatha had taught you so much, yet you didn't understand such a simple book. "The words make sense, but I can't figure out what they're doing." You sunk back into Agatha's chest and looked away from the book. This was the third book where the actions were almost impossible for you to imagine. You should've said something sooner, but it embarrassed you. 

"That's okay. What don't you understand?" Agatha was quick to spread your thighs. "It's very physical; it's easier to explain if I can do it to you." Her hands massaged your thighs in just the right way to get you to relax. The thought of touching you had become overwhelming. Agatha was starting to feel things she'd never felt before. She'd heard many names for it. Love, lust, desire. All of them were genuine feelings, but she wasn't sure which one described how she felt. "Don't be shy. I won't judge you." 

You turned back a few pages and scanned them to find one of the words. "Well, a lot of it doesn't make sense. What's a clit, and what does fingering mean in this context? I thought you fingered instruments. How do you do that to a person?" You flipped back even further. "And why does it say she's wet all the time? Does she have a bladder problem?" 

Agatha could only smile. She rolled down your shorts until the top was at the middle of your thighs. It was indeed a blessing how thin the underwear in heaven was.  Her thumb rubbed tight circles around your clit. "This is your clit. It's a bunch of tiny little nerves down there." She wrapped her free arm around your waist to keep you still. "It's really sensitive, so you have to be careful." Feeling your squirm and wiggle was so much fun. "And if you keep rubbing it just right-"

"I feel sticky!" You would've jumped out of Agatha's lap if she wasn't holding you. A strange buzzing formed under your skin. It was so warm and inviting but so bold and new at the same time. Sitting still was nearly impossible. "Is it supposed to be sticky," you asked frantically.

 Agatha rubbed your stomach to ease your frantic nerves. "You're fine. Everything is fine. That's what it feels like when you're wet." Just one finger had a difficult time slipping into your cunt. You were untouched. Free of corruption and ready to be claimed. She kissed up the side of your neck to ease your nerves. "When you start moving, that counts as fingering." 

A shaky breath tumbled from your lips. You were too overwhelmed to speak. It felt like a tight knot under your stomach, and you just wanted to pull the right string and watch it all unravel. Agatha was close to hitting the right spot, but you were too shy to ask. 

Just before that knot could unravel, Agatha pulled her fingers away. She reveled in the way your breathing staggered. You were a mess — her mess. "Does that answer your question?"

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. "Um, I think that's everything." It was far from everything, but you weren't even sure where to start. So you just sat there in silence. You're too flustered to pretend to read anymore. "Can we go for a walk after we finish this chapter? I need to clear my head." 

"Anything for my superstar," she said. Agatha was a bit disappointed she couldn't play on your curiosity, but she had plenty of time to teach you. It wouldn't be long before Agatha had you begging for it. 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

"You're a succubus." 

It's not an accusation. Rather, you stated a fact that had taken you almost four months to realize, but the truth nonetheless. 

Agatha stopped reading as she pondered what you said. She wasn't an angel anymore, and being a human wasn't possible. It would explain her seemingly unsatisfiable appetite and the constant desire to have you. Though she could feel her body was changing, it appeared rather underwhelming. "I guess you're right."

You sat up and looked down at Agatha. "You'll never be able to come back to heaven." It broke your heart. All you wanted was to be with Agatha forever. How was that supposed to happen if she was stuck on Earth — or worse, be forced to live in hell? Your chest tightened, and you felt hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry. Nothing is going to change between us." Agatha wiped away your tears. "I promise what we have down here is much better than anything we could make up there." She kissed your lips firmly. Heaven was the least of her concerns. Agatha wanted to be with you. It didn't matter where you two were. "Earth has the both of us, a nice cabin, and a magnificent garden. What else do we need?" 

You sniffled as you considered Agatha's words. "B-but, who are you going to feed from? I don't want you running off and doing that with other people!" A moment of silence passed between the two of you. Then your face got hot. "I don't know how to do any of that stuff. Are you sure you want to do that with me?" Your face felt incredibly hot. Intimacy was a mostly unexplored area for you. "What if I'm so bad at it that you end up starving?" 

"I don't think that's how it works," she said affectionately, "but I think it'd be better if we found out." Agatha pinned you down to the bed. It was much nicer having you underneath her. You looked like a scared doe. "You're too cute for your own good," she whispered before kissing you. 

You held on to the collar of Agatha as you feverishly kissed her back. It felt good. You turned your head and tried to collect your breath. "Will it hurt?" You trusted Agatha, but you were terrified. "Do I have to take all my clothes off?" 

"I'd never hurt you." Agatha immediately leaned down to attack your neck with open mouth kisses. She cursed the fact every angel in heaven was so nosy. All she wanted was to stake her claim over you, but there was no telling how they'd react. "I've seen you naked plenty of times before." 

You chuckled nervously. "Yeah, but it's a little different when it's like this." Despite your apprehension, you let Agatha have her way. Each kiss she gave you caused goosebumps to rise. "Are you sure you've never done this before? It feels really good." A small gasp escaped your lips when Agatha's teeth dug into your hip bone. "Be nice!" 

Agatha just huffed at you before making her way lower. She loved the plumpness of your thighs, but they were in the way of what she wanted. You were more than wet enough for Agatha to do as she pleased. "Fuck you taste so good," she moaned after licking a long strip up your slit. Two of her fingers eased inside your hole while her tongue lapped at your sensitive nub. "You're adorable." 

Your body twisted and squirmed as Agatha pleased you. It felt weird being so wet. Your slick had ruined the bedsheets. "Agatha, I don't know if I can take more of this!"  Your hand tangled in her hair. One moment you were pulling her away, and the next, you pushed her closer to your cunt. "I think something is happening!"

Agatha wrapped her arms around your thighs to keep them open. She continued her assault until the inevitable happened. Her tongue stuck out flat, so no matter which way you turned, your clit would run against it. Your cunt still sucked in her fingers as greedily as it did the first time. Not a single drop of your cum was wasted. Agatha would've easily pushed you into a second orgasm if it weren't for the particularly hard push you'd given her. 

Your body collapsed against the bed. Once again, you had many questions, but all of them would go unasked. Not because of shame— that was long gone now—but rather because of how tired you were. Just the thought of speaking was too much for you. 

Agatha looked down at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Your sweaty, desperate body was like art to her. It was the only thing she wanted to see. She leaned down and kissed you passionately. "You were more than enough for me. I never want to hear you doubt yourself again." Agatha slipped her arms underneath you and lifted you. "I know, but you have to get clean." 

It was your turn to let out a defiant huff. Unlike Agatha, you didn't have a disobedient bone in your body. You let Agatha bathe and redress you, along with all the other little details she loved to fuss over. You felt so small and helpless, but you liked it. Everything felt right. Agatha could never return to heaven, but that didn’t matter. Home was down on Earth with the woman you loved the most. Being an archangel was just more work, anyway.

[junkdrawerfics]

Swan Sisters (Part 2)

Part 1

Jasper Whitlock x Reader + Bella Swan and Sister! Reader

Summary: An addition to the sister!reader series, where you are Bella's sister and a vampire, not that she knows. Yet. When the car accident happens, you find yourself lost in a mix of concern, lies, and familial arguments. Can you keep Bella quiet when Edward can't?

Word Count: 3645

Warnings: No? Hospitals? Sisters kind of arguing? My midnight editing attempts. Movie-based not book-based (though it hurts my soul)

Note: This one is a lot more Bella / sister!reader focused. Also, I'm realizing this will take many parts because there's so many bits I want to write from this point of view. There will likely be two more parts (at least).

@twilightlover2007 - here's part 2 <3

---

The second you hear about the car accident, everything stops.

Jasper watches you wearily from your bedroom window. He can feel the emotions pouring off of you. Concern. Dread. Fear. Each carrying the force of a violent tidal wave. But you don’t move an inch. You’re frozen in time, like a picturesque statue of pure marble. Despair captured in beauty.

“Is she okay?” You squeak as the shock slowly wears off.

“Yes…” Jasper hesitates, quietly adding, “Edward saved her.”

Edward? He saved her?

“Was he close to her when it happened?”

“...No.”

Alarm bells start ringing, flashing red lights and all. You search Jasper’s eyes, finding your panic reflected in their gold depths. No.

“So he-?”

“Yes.”

“And he-?”

A sharp nod.

Oh dear God.

“We need to go,” you declare, swiping your purse from your bed.

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can!” You flip back to him, but freeze at the stricken look on his face. 

Shame simmers under his pained expression, his eyes clouded with so much self-doubt, you wish you could just take it all away. You didn’t mean to spark that, you didn’t think about what hospitals could mean. Wounded humans. Blood. It’s too dangerous for him to go, you should have known that.

 Overwhelmed with tenderness for the blond, and a touch of guilt, you drop into the windowsill next to him.

“Sorry,” you murmur, voice soft.

You just feel so…so messy. Drawn so taut you could break. Concern filling every cell in your dead body. It wasn’t even like you said anything to hurt him, he knows that, you know that, but it still feels like you made him feel like that.

Jasper, so fully in sync with your emotions, your thoughts, gently brushes his fingers against yours before intertwining them. The gesture is so simple, so reassuring and firm, you can’t stop the shuddering breath from escaping you as you collapse into his side. His arm wraps around you tightly, as if he can hold together all your cracking pieces.

“Sorry,” you bleat again, “I just- I’m just worried, you know? We’ve finally started spending time together, and if she figures out what we are, or worse, something happens, we’ll have to leave. I’m…I’m not ready for that yet. I didn’t mean to speak carelessly.”

“It’s okay, darlin’, I understand.” Jasper’s lips brush against your forehead, his voice low and smooth, lulling your storm back to calm waters. You curl even further into his touch, humming softly. “Why don’t you go check on her, and I’ll find Alice? She might’ve seen somethin’ about all this.” 

“Thanks, Jas.” Your voice is muffled by his sweater, but the blond still hears it, and you can feel a flush of love from him, his power.

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Always.”

It’s difficult to extract yourself from the embrace. Being around Jasper when he’s in a good mood is too addictive, since his emotions usually pour over onto you, even when he doesn’t mean to. His love is like warmth, the kind that starts in your chest and spreads to every inch of your body. It’s the closest you get to feeling alive again.

But you do manage to tear yourself away eventually. Jasper, sensing your reluctance, gives you one of those slanted, teasing grins, “Can’t get enough of me, can you, darlin’?”

“Oh shush.” You scrunch your nose at him, feeling much light as you swing your legs over the windowsill. “Don’t make me regret this whole ‘forever’ thing.”

His eyes practically sparkle with mirth. “I wouldn’t think of it, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes, “Go find Alice, you dummy. I need to go give Edward a serious scolding.”

“Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I know, I know.” You wave a hand dismissively. “I can’t be too mad at him. I just want to screw with him a bit, you know?”

“My mate,” Jasper hums, shaking his head amusedly.

“Count yourself lucky.” 

You duck forward, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before pushing off from the window. It’s a rainy day, the clouds thick and dark like usual, the smell of wet bark and dirt swirling through the air. The familiarity of it all eases the last of your stubborn nerves. When you spin back around, Jasper is right behind you, catching you around the waist and pulling you in for another kiss. 

“I count myself very lucky,” the vampire purrs, your noses brushing, “every day, darlin’.”

“Good, that makes the both of us.” Though you are definitely more lucky. You’ll never understand how you ended up with someone as amazing as Jasper. “Now, go talk to Alice.”

“Be careful at the hospital.”

“Will do, Major.”

You bite back a grin when Jasper shoots you a narrowed look. Before he can get another word out though, you give him a little wink and take off through the woods. 

His low laughter echoes behind you, fading into the hum of the forest.

---

You definitely shouldn’t be here, you think to yourself as you step into the hospital. The smell of blood hits you like a bruising punch to the gut, so hard that you stumble, clutching at the nearest wall for support. You can hear the pulsing heartbeat of each person in the room, the sound of blood rushing through their veins. A siren song. Taunting. Tempting. Your lips part, the smell so thick you can practically taste the warmth on your tongue.

Would their blood taste different because they're sick? 

The thought makes you pale. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. You clench your jaw, bones aching as you force yourself to be still, force your lungs to still.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?”

Blink. Smile. Be human.

You turn to the nurse at the desk, a girl you recognize as one of your seniors from high school. Merissa? You think that’s her name. She’s looking at you with concern-steepled eyebrows, dark eyes wide.

“Hi! Yah, I’m fine,” you bite out through gritted teeth. “I’m here to see Bella? She got into a car accident.”

“Oh sure! She’s in our general treatment room, your dad just got here too.” She points to one of the sets of doors, “Right through there, I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding her.”

“Thanks!”

And thanks to her interruption, you have a little bit more control over your roving instincts, at least enough to make going into the back less intimidating. When you find your family (due to Charlie’s growling at the poor boy you can only assume was the driver in the accident), Carlisle is already taking a look at Bella.

Thank the heavens for Carlisle. The man is an absolute saint and you’ll never understand how he can spend the whole day here.

“How is she?” You appear at Charlie’s side, making both him and Bella jump.

“Where on Earth did you come from?” Charlie barks, a hand over his heart.

“Jasper told me what happened so I rushed over,” you explain quickly, turning to your sister, “He said it was a crazy accident. The truck just barely missed you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bella groans. She’s probably said that a million times by now, but it’s good to hear it from her. It’s even better to see her with your own eyes. No bruises. No blood. She is fine. Lucky for you. “It could have been a lot worse if Edward wasn’t there.”

“Edward? Your boy?” Charlie glances at Carlisle.

The older vampire looks your way, lips pulling into a thin line. A slight nod of your head, almost imperceptible, tells him that you know what happened. Bella just barely catches it.

“It’s kind of amazing he got to me so fast,” she adds on, eyes narrowed, flicking between the two of you. “He was nowhere near me.”

She must already be suspicious. Which means you have to convince her she’s wrong. Which means you need to lie. Again.

“Did you hit your head, Bells?” You plop onto the bed next to her, feigning concern to the best of your abilities. You have to resist the urge to flinch when she glares at you.

“She did,” Carlisle inputs, and Bella shifts her glare to the doctor, though he remains unphased, “No concussion, thankfully, but this kind of incident can have repercussions on the mind, so you’ll want to keep an eye on her. Now, I’m sorry to run, but I have another patient to attend to.” He gives Charlie one of his award winning smiles and steps over to the other boy. 

“I’m not a kid,” Bella all but snaps, her jaw clenching so hard you can practically hear her teeth grinding, “I’d appreciate it if everyone stopped treating me like one.”

“Hey, you’re still my kid,” Charlie retorts, “If Doctor Cullen says we need to be careful, then we will. No arguments.”

Bella just huffs, obviously not happy with the outcome of the discussion. You squeeze her shoulder, but she just shuffles off the bed, barely casting you a glance. Frowning softly, you follow them back towards the front of the hospital.

“Bells,” you start.

She doesn’t let you get far, “I know what I saw. You may not believe me, but I do.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you-”

“Then why’d you brush me aside like that?” She flips back around to you, stopping dead in the middle of the hall. You do flinch this time. The look on her face, a mix between disappointment and frustration, buried beneath a fine layer of suspicion, sends another stab of guilt through you. 

Charlie glances between the two of you, shuffling awkwardly off to the side. He looks seconds away from fleeing, and you cast him pleading glance, silently begging him to stay. Facing a cougar alone? Easy. Facing Bella’s fury on your own? Down right terrifying.

“I’m gonna go sign some paperwork,” he coughs, and you gape at him as he dashes down the hall. 

Coward!

“I thought you were supposed to have my back?” 

Don’t say that.

“I do, Bells, but you sounded crazy back there.” Each word feels like a burning coal in your mouth.

“Crazy?”

“I mean, yah.” You shrug meekly. “You make it sound like he teleported or something to get to you. It’s a bit far-fetched, you know?”

Bella purses her lips. For just a short moment, doubt clouds her expression. It gives you an inkling of hope, that maybe this can all end well. Maybe she’ll let it go and everything will just go back to normal and you can kick Edward’s butt for being so careless then thank him for saving her. Maybe-

But then her eyes fall on something, someone, behind you, and her brows set into that stubborn line all over again and your hope deflates.

“I’ll be right back. He can clear this all up.” You can't get a word in before she takes off down the hall behind you.

You spin, resisting the urge to groan when your eyes fall on Edward. He’s standing with Carlisle and Rosalie, the vampires murmuring tensely amongst themselves.

If only you’d had a few more minutes.

‘Angry human, incoming.’ You project your thoughts loud and clear.

Edward looks your ways, eyes blowing wide as he catches sight of Bella walking towards them. For a split millisecond, you can read the panic in his expression, just before the facade of composure comes crashing down. Carlisle and Rosalie seemingly disappear as Bella reaches him.

‘Good luck, Ed. You’ll need it.’

If people could sweatdrop, you’re sure you’d be seeing the emote on the vampire right now. Bella isn’t pissed, not yet at least, but one misstep and she could certainly be there. You can only imagine how Edward feels handling this. Probably like a fish out of water, since he can’t hear her thoughts. Serves him right for his impeccable timing.

You prop yourself against the wall, focusing in on their hushed conversation. You hate using your powers for this, to listen in on something that should be private, with your sister no less, but right here, right now, you just can’t afford to give her that. This involves all of you.

“How did you get over to me so fast?” Bella asks, voice much softer than when she was talking to you. 

“I was standing right next to you, Bella,” Edward corrects with an easygoing smile.

That won’t work.

“You were standing next to your car, across the lot,” Bella argues.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes. You were.”

You smile bemusedly. They’re already like an old, married couple.

Edward glares at you over Bella’s shoulder. You glance away, pretending to watch the nurses walking around.

“You hit your head, I think you’re confused.”

“I know what I saw.”

There’s no more uncertainty in her voice.

A heavy sensation settles in your chest.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.”

---

“Is there anything else you need?” You flutter around the room, grabbing extra blankets, pillows, making sure everything is in reach. Since Charlie had to go back to the department, it up to you to get her settled in before going to find the Cullens.

“I’m fine, (Y/n),” Bella sighs, standing in the doorway with crossed arms. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t just go back to school but Edward could.”

“Perks of having your dad as the doctor,” you chirp with a wry smile.

Bella just rolls her eyes. Stubborn girl. Only she would have a near death experience and then insist on going back to school. Most kids would jump at the chance to have the day off! You know you would.

“Anyways, I got you some water, and aspirin for if your head starts hurting - tell me if it does okay? And I can whip you up some food if you want, or order in, whatever you-”

“(Y/n).”

You cringe, stopping in the middle of fluffing one of the many pillows you brought in. Slowly, the slowest you’ve moved in a long time, you turn to glance at her over your shoulder. And the sight makes your stomach churn, a fresh wave of guilt pouring over you.

Bella’s always been brave. No matter how hard you’ve tried to get her to open up, she’s always hidden her struggles from you. So, seeing her standing there, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, arms curled around herself as if she’s trying to hide from the world, it tears the ground out from under you.

“Do you really not believe me?” Her voice is meek, so different from her usual self.

“Oh, Bells,” you sigh, reaching for her.

But Bella steps away, avoids your touch completely, and that hurts. You clench your fingers, letting your hand fall to your side. You deserve that, you guess. You’ve done nothing but avoid her this whole time. Even now, you’re only here to try and convince her she saw it wrong.

You haven’t exactly been a good sister, have you?

“You don’t.”

“I-” Your jaw clenches. What can you say? You don’t want to lie, not again, not when you know it’ll just drive this wedge further. You can’t lose her, not yet. You’re not ready.

“Well?” Bella scowls, eyes burning holes through you.

You purse your lips, quietly breathing out, “It’s not so simple, Bella.”

“What do you mean?” She takes a step towards you, and you swear you see fire burning along the edges of her figure. You take a step back, wary. “You either believe me or you don’t. What’s so difficult about that?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know.” 

You know you’re not helping. You know the answer should be simple. But so is your desire to love your sister, to keep her in your life, to not let go of one of the good things left of your human life.

“Obviously,” Bella scoffs, “Like why you’re always disappearing now? I feel like I see less of you than when I lived in Phoenix.”

“I can’t-” You cut yourself off, biting your tongue.

“Can’t what?

“I can’t talk about it,” you finish weakly.

“Why?”

“It’s not mine to talk about!”

“Why? You seem to be a part of it, whatever it is.”

“Because, Bells, it just isn’t! And you need to stop poking around it.”

“So you are hiding something.”

“Y- No!” You groan, collapsing onto the bed. “Just drop it Bella, please, for me.”

Bella just shakes her head, “I can’t.”

An abrupt silence fills the room, settling heavily over the two of you. You’re both heaving, tense with more to say but no fight left to do it. You can’t budge, and neither will she. A heavy sigh passes your lips as you drag a hand over your face.

What a mess.

The bed shifts as Bella sits next to you. You glance at her, eyes narrowed, tired, and she looks just as worn out. It’s been a long time since you’ve fought like this.

“...I’m sorry, Bells.” Your voice is quiet, pained. No response.

Seconds tick by like hours until she breaks the silence again to ask, “Can you just tell me one thing?” 

You should say it depends. The less you reveal the better, considering you definitely just made this all worse. You’ve always had a sucky poker face. But you can’t bring yourself to say it, to keep this exhausting facade up, so you just offer a slow nod.

Bella hesitates, brows synching as she scans your face, “Do I…Do I need to be worried about you in all of this?”

Irony.

At its finest.

With a melancholic smile, you shake your head, “No Bells, I’m okay. I’m happy, actually. I’m just worried about you.”

“Okay.”

And just like that, the tension drips away, leaving the two of you in a comfortable moment of acceptance. You lean against her shoulder, relief flooding you when she doesn’t lean away. Her head even falls against your shoulder, just like when you were younger. 

This is what you’ve missed.

And it’s only then, with your nose touching her hair, that you realize her scent doesn’t smell nearly as appealing to you. You hadn’t even noticed it this whole time. A tiny grin captures your lips as you shut your eyes. Finally.

“Can I ask you something?” You hum eventually.

“Depends.”

This time, you roll your eyes, “What do you think of Edward?”

Bella’s face immediately flushes a deep crimson, and that’s enough of an answer for you. Your grin turns teasing as you jostle her lightly.

“You like him, don’t you?”

She scoffs, “As if.”

But her eyes look everywhere but at you.

“You’re horrible at lying, Bells,” you giggle.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Well, it’s just- that’s just totally insane. Edward? No, he’s like so…weird and bipolar.”

“And cute,” you chime, earning a glare from the younger Swan.

“Shut up.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“I don’t like Edward.”

“Okaaay~”

You hop to your feet and Bella barely catches herself on the bed, casting you a not too fierce glare.

“Seriously, (Y/n).”

“No, I totally believe you, Bella,” you sing as you glide to the door.

“I don’t like him.”

“Me neither.”

“(Y/n).”

You pause at the doorway, looking back at her with a wolfish grin.

“Bella.”

She’s somehow even more red, practically fuming.

“He doesn’t even like me! You saw how he acted today.” Her face falls at the memory, and you can’t help but shake your head.

To think, even after an argument, you can still have moments like this.

This is worth fighting for.

“Just give it time, Bella.” She looks up at you, and you can see in her eyes, the desperate wish for answers, answers you can’t share. Yet. “He was a jerk today, and trust me, he’ll get a whoopin’ for it, but I stand by what I said. Edward is a good guy. He just…well, he’s got a villain complex, let’s put it that way.”

The brunette snorts, a slight smile disrupting her usual cloudy expression. Good, you think proudly. Your pretty sister shouldn’t look so down, especially over a dumb vampire who doesn’t know how to handle girls, at all.

“Are you off to give him a ‘whoopin’?” Bella asks, putting the word in air quotes.

“Something like that,” you muse, slipping past the doorway. You stop just past it, thinking for just a moment before you flip back again, clinging to the frame as you lean in, “I know you’re not going to stop looking Bella, but will you please keep what happened quiet? Can you trust me on that at least?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she reassures you, and that’s enough.

You nod, “Thanks Tinkerbell.”

“(Y/n), I swear-”

“Bye!”

You’re almost down the stairs, laughing like a maniac, by the time she comes chasing after you. Even before you were a vampire, she never could match up to you in a race.

“I’ll tell Edward you said hi!” You call as you reach the door.

“Don’t you dare!”

You slam it shut behind you, taking off towards your car. Bella flings it back open, but doesn’t break past the threshold, merely glaring at you from the house. You flash her a blinding grin as you pull out of the driveway, fingers wiggling in a little wave.

Your cheeks might split from how wide you’re grinning as you race down the roads of Forks to the Cullen’s house.

Who knew things could be like this again. You never hoped in your wildest dreams that you could have this back once you changed. And now that you know it’s there, it’s possible, you can’t just let it go. No matter the storms, no matter the arguments, this is worth protecting.

Hopefully you can convince the others of it as well.

---

I love writing the sister dynamic. I don't have sisters, so I don't know if it's accurate, but this is what I'd hope my sister and I would be like.

I hope I'm balancing it all well, and I hope you guys enjoyed this part!

Part 3

[teecupangel]

So, I’ve been playing skyward sword and I’m in absolute love with the flight control - so naturally I started thinking of Desmond as a loftwing. I think he’d be light brown, like dark sand maybe, with gold and white accents. Colour of his hair, colour of his hoodie, colour of the Eye, etc. Hawk/eagle colours. I don’t think he’d find it hard to adapt to… uh, becoming a really big bird. Big enough to bite Templar heads off with his massive beak! Maybe even big enough for a human to… ride?

Huh. This is neat. Wonder if Altair wants to go flying. Thus: Altair becomes the Eagle of not only Masyaf, but also the Skies Over Masyaf. Well, at least he’s having fun! (Though the thin strap on the simple saddle Altair made for Desmond is distressingly flimsy, Desmond keeps worrying that the buckle will fail and his ancestor will fall off…)

Few centuries later, Ezio finds a massive bird in a stasis crystal in the Sanctuary under Monterriggioni, the same shape and size as the stone bird standing curled around Altair’s statue. When he puts a hand on the crystal, it shatters, and the bird wakes up, immediately moving to preen Ezio’s hair. Ta-da! Loftwing companion, get!

Leonardo agrees to make a more secure double-strap saddle for Desmond that buckles both in front of his wing joints and behind them under the feathers, for the low low price of letting Leonardo fly on him a few times. F-For science, of course! There’s no way a bird this big should be flight worthy, after all! It has nothing to do with how nice it feels to fly, or how the shape of the wings has Leo rethinking his flight machine, and, oh! This crest is so soft, and Desmond is very permissive with petting…

My first thought is that Desmond would have the same coloring as a roseate spoonbill XD

But your coloring matches him even better.

For the saddle, I think it would start off as a simple saddle then Altaïr would start to use the Apple to make a better, more efficient saddle.

And that’s the saddle that Leonardo finds in one of the codex pages. He modifies it so it would become a double-strap saddle with a design befitting a Leonardo Da Vinci work. (Not that Altaïr’s saddle was ugly, it was just focused on performance and Altaïr didn’t care about how it looked other than the colors should complement Desmond)

Altaïr also made the saddle have more utility and Desmond was used to having supplies on his back.

Of course, Ezio thinks that bulky supplies doesn’t look good on Desmond and Desmond is just like “I really don’t care but it’s not like you can understand what I’m saying so you just do you, Ezio.” while Leonardo agrees.

So, Desmond while with Altaïr felt more like a majestic wild beast of the skies.

With Ezio though? Desmond turns into a divine bird of justified vengeance courtesy of Ezio’s ideas that Leonardo has to interpret and turn into reality (the woes of all artists with unreasonable clients)

Claudia saw the expenses and borrowed a mercenary’s sword to cut her own brother down XD

[lostwarllock]

Incoherent screeching off in the distance—

below the cut is my rambling list of comparisons between sokeefe and merthur in an attempt to explain my otherworldly love for both ships to myself

Tag list:

@thatrandomlemononyourcounter1

@aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen

@cosmxc-ars3hol3

Sokeefe and merthur

Foster and Merlin:

—very powerful, have stronger abilities than those like them

—born into a destiny/role (that places an unbelievably heavy burden on their shoulders and impacts every choice they make) that correlates with their abilities

—do not/did not know their biological father

—have at least two father figures

—almost die on a daily basis

—sometimes choose to be selfish, when it comes to the one they care about, even though it may oppose their beliefs of their role

—struggle with authority figures

—tendency to suddenly run out of the room without explaining anything to anyone

—confide in their soulmate in an attempt to convince their soulmate to confide in them

—have a mentor that doesn’t really help, just presents impossible decisions that put their lives at risk but fulfill their role

—a best friend that kissed them

—in love with a blonde (lots of banter all around, but has many serious moments and conversations)

—would literally do ANYTHING for their blonde

—black cat energy

—no matter how much planning and precautions they take, or using their abilities, someone close to them manages to get hurt or die

—adopted by someone very protective, but who eventually understands that some dangers are necessary for their destiny

—at some point temporarily lost their powers

—basically immortal since they live indefinitely

—go into dangerous situations because “they have to” and it’s up to them to solve everything

—know how to keep a secret for over a decade

—the sibling of someone they are close to is evil

—fell in horse poop

—ridden a magical flying creature

—eyes that are recognizable

—in serious need of a good night’s sleep

—came from relatively poor places and moved to basically a castle

—had to leave their previous home due to their abilities

—has caused a few explosions

—known by a special name that corresponds to their powers and destiny

—left a mother back home

—generally a tired/serious/lighthearted personality but also have the incredible ability to be the sassiest being on earth and not care what an authority figure would think

—have a group of friends who try so hard to die with them/for them

—so so loving and loyal that it hurts them

—gold in their eyes

—dress pretty plain

—were treated as different/an outcast in their original home

—has committed all the felonies

—their best friend is treated poorly because of their status

—very good at escaping/sneaking around, but NOT at lying

—are the reason that a very rare magical creature could be born

—constantly worked to the bone

—have like a brown haired person but it ended up not working out

—traumatic things have happened by bodies of water

—get endlessly bullied/teased by their blonde soulmate

—never ending worry for the safety of their soulmate

—have the uncanny ability to reassure their blonde that they aren’t a horrible person through the power of their pep talks

—take any chance to disapprove of the blonde’s parent

—forehead touch their blonde soulmate after a earth-shattering moment that has been built up to for the whole series

—drink poison/something that could kill them with their blonde in the general vicinity

—started out pretty happy and young, to a point years later where they make more depressing, dangerous choices due to their rapidly decreasing amount of hope in the world

—is incredibly devastated that their blonde has to go through an inevitable, painful experience as part of their destiny, and does everything to stop it, but fails

—they wait for them to wake up

Keefe and Arthur:

—blonde (and beautiful blue eyes)

—has worn a crown on their head and sat in a throne because of their parent

—parent raises them to play a certain role, though continually states they are not ready for it, and they must learn to make the hard decisions in order to be truly prepared

—incredibly self-sacrificing and has to play the hero because somehow they think everything is their fault and it’s their responsibility to fix it, even if it was the fault of their parent

—under the false impression that they are needed to protect their soulmate who is actually doing all the protecting

—their parent went through some sort of treatment in order to have them

—their parent has murdered a few times at least

—grew up with very little love and affection from their tyrannical/oppressive parent, but it was to “make them strong” and prepare them for their role

—their father, specifically, has a cold, stony exterior but claims he loves them in a convoluted way no one could understand

—confide in their soulmate and show their true worries and fears that they would never tell anyone else

—their natural beauty makes everyone fall in love with them

—trained in order to defeat their enemies

—their father married someone akin to a troll

—had a sibling figure who turned out evil

—very emotionally aware/deep but only reveal it at certain times, so they cover it up with a confident, teasing appearance

—also almost die on a daily basis, usually in the company of their soulmate

—believes their soulmate is incredibly brave, maybe even the bravest person they’ve ever met

—will go against their parent because they know what it right

—think their soulmate is mysterious and hiding something

—show their affection for their soulmate through touch and meaningful looks

—their soulmate is very protective of them but they don’t think it’s necessary

—thought their parent was dead, but woohoo, they came back to haunt you (one literally, the other figuratively)

—they find so much joy in making the life of their soulmate miserable

—grew up with luxurious circumstances, very rich

—pretty unaware of the details of their destiny, but couldn’t care less

—tendency to make rash, reckless decisions but sometimes their soulmate talks them out of it

—loves the idea of running away

—is sunshine incarnate with an undertone of depression

—still cares about parent even though they are a horrible person (shows their undying loyalty and innocence)

—their uncanny empathy lets them know when their soulmate hasn’t smiled in the past three days, but they couldn’t notice that someone close to them was working for the enemy for a LONG time

—been drugged by/because of parent

—always knows when something is wrong with the soulmate and tries to comfort them, even when they don’t know the whole story

—always the first to defend their soulmate from accusations or talk them out of a situation

—have a blonde mother who they never truly knew

—can sometimes be so stupid, but other times they’re the smartest person in the room

—tease their soulmate about liking other people, even when that person is definitely not anyone to worry about

—no issue challenging their father

—whenever they try to sneak away or do something on their own, their soulmate is already there

—would actually die for their soulmate infinite times over, even if it’s not explicitly stated, and always attempt to take the blow for them

—their soulmate stayed with them all the while they were going through their inevitable, painful destiny that forever changed them

—got stabbed/slashed in the gut

—been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust (over and over)

—very open-minded (relative to those around them) and most would disagree with their beliefs that you should be with the one you love and not someone based on stupid rules set by tradition and authority

—has been carried by their soulmate because they were hurt

—comment on how their soulmate is worried all the time

—the last thing they see as they succumb to their destiny is their soulmate holding them in a sense as they say “stay with me”

[sayornispress]

My most recent project, and most intensive project in a long time!! Halo Effect and Soldier's Heart by @alex51324. Five books in all, totaling over 1700 pages. Details, story spoilers, and more photos under the cut - there are quite a few!

In WWI, English soldiers wrapped their pants and boots with "puttees", and the spines mimic that look. Rather than actually wrapping, or cutting the spine cloth into pieces (which I worried would fray over time, especially with the opening and closing of reading), I pleated it and sewed it to the cover cloth (which is light canvas-y green but otherwise rather plain, so I'm not including photos here). The titling is flat gold heat transfer vinyl.

The bookmark charms relate to the story, of course.

Halo Effect - I felt that Thomas was defined by his status as a footman and this sets up his massive character change throughout the series, so the first bookmark charm is a footman's button, though not a Downton-specific one.

Soldier's Heart, vol. I - This fountain pen nib is from the early twentieth century. I found in the first volume that Thomas's social network, and communication both to and from define this part of the work.

Soldier's Heart, vol. II - My dad collects WWI memorabilia, including bullets (it's in this volume that Thomas is shot). He cut a bullet down for me to use for this binding. This particular bullet is English, rather than from any of the opposing nations, since he doesn't collect those (and I was rather lucky he had even an English one) but tbh I don't have the slightest idea what the difference is.

Soldier's Heart, vol. III - Y'all this is a genuine RAMC WWI coat button. I couldn't not use it. Wholly unmodified, to be clear, so if the book ever needs rebound or anything changes, it can be removed and reused as necessary. I chose this volume for the button because I felt Thomas really come into his own as a member of the RAMC, away from the war - and because I wanted to use the bullet for the last one, and this is the only volume this button would fit on, other than the last, but that's a whole other deal.

Soldier's Heart, vol. IV - Thomas, whose father was a clockmaker, becomes a chauffeur at the end of Soldier's Heart. My first idea was to use some sort of gear that resembled a car part as a charm. I come from a long line of magpies/dragons/Gollum-like creatures, and my grandfather had, in his garage, an alarm clock that belonged to my great-great-grandfather, gathering dust, because my grandpa had been meaning to fix it and just hadn't gotten around to it yet (he'd been saying this since the mid-seventies, at least - my aunt wanted to use it, since it would have matched her quilt). Anyway, we all gathered around the dinner table to take this clock apart, which turned out to be a rather violent act involving pliers, several screwdrivers, an orbital sander, a drill press, and a hammer. I got a few gears out of the deal, and my cousin (a mechanic) selected the one that looked the most like a car part, scaled down. So. Double connection.

It's a bit difficult to tell in the photo, but the speckled edges each have two different colors, and there's, again, a reason for each choice! Each color represents something specific:

Blue - clear skies/relative calm Green - naivety/he's got things to learn Brown - the muck of war Red - blood (Thomas's and others')

Halo Effect: Green and blue Soldier's Heart, vol. I - green and brown Soldier's Heart, vol. II - brown and red Soldier's Heart, vol. III - green and red Soldier's Heart, vol. IV - red and blue

The speckling is also more intense in the middle three books.

My signature throw, as well as a close-up of the hand-sewn endbands (each volume's endbands match the speckled edges of that particular book) and a bit better look at the RAMC button, though a bit blurry.

And next to it, my metadata page and the gratitude from Halo Effect. I'm very much enjoying this metadata layout, and here's as good a place as any to give some general typesetting info:

I used IM Fell Great Primer for the body text, 11pt, 15pt leading.

Next up, the details in the letters--each character has their own handwriting, and a few are showcased here:

Syl drew a face in the margins of one of the letters with Theo, and I mimicked it for the binding. (Yes I was in fact crying as I did it)

Don't be afraid to ask if you'd like to know the names of any of the fonts - all from Google Fonts, since I do my typesetting in GDocs. I love the first one, in particular (Joey's) because I so rarely use it. I'm very happy with how they all turned out, they feel like they match the personalities well, in my opinion, though I should have made a couple a touch bigger.

---

I think that's all of my photos! I'm so so proud of how this binding turned out. It had quite a long turn-around - it's not unusual for me to have less than two weeks between reading a fic for the first time and having a bound copy on my shelf, and I read this fic for the first time over the course of nine days all the way back in March. (Which. okay. Not that long actually.)

I had a really lovely time with the binding, as well, because I got so much input from my family and friends - my dad was integral in the whole process, not only in the donation of the bullet, but also in the design of the covers in general and in answering my WWI questions, and my mom helped me pick colors for the endbands and edges. My grandpa donated a clock, and my boss helped me figure out how to get the charms attached to the ribbons, and her sister helped me with sewing, so all in all this whole experience has been so wonderful, so special. I'm so grateful for it.

[swanimagines]

AIN'T AFRAID OF NO GHOSTS | KAZ BREKKER + CROWS

Summary: A heist to the rumoured haunted mansion with your boyfriend and the rest of the Crows, what could go wrong?

As you, Kaz and the rest of the Crows approached the end of the road that nature had claimed and your target slowly came to view, you stopped for a moment, admiring the view.

“It looks just like a haunted mansion would look like,” you laughed, looking at the towers reaching towards the night sky, the old bell tower partly collapsed on top of it. Moon was shining from behind the towers, making the scene even more eerie. De Wittehuis Mansion was full of rumours of it being haunted, people having been swallowed by the mansion or alternatively becoming insane after visiting it - and that was why its treasure chamber had been untouched for five decades - rumours telling it had treasures that would be worth millions in today's money. 

And of course, when Kaz heard about it, he immediately laid down a heist. He knew the untouched treasure could also have been just a rumour, but millions of kruge, family heirlooms, gold bars and diamonds, was something he couldn’t pass, especially when the place had been abandoned for so long. No distractions, no guards. You wouldn’t even have to sneak around.

None of you didn’t believe in such rumours of ghosts, of course. It was an easy target, like Kaz said. A lot of people were superstitious in Ketterdam, those rumours about missing people and such had most likely been created to keep children out. The mansion was older than anyone’s grandparents, it wasn’t exactly safe to wander there.

As you approached the gate, hearing it creaking as it was opened - it suddenly made you want to turn around and run back to the Slat. Your gut just told you something wasn’t right. It felt like you were being watched, through the windows, from the woods behind you - something hiding behind the statues in the garden. You froze momentarily, laying a worried glance on your friends who looked equally apprehensive - but Kaz was already walking through the yard, with no doubt kruge already glinting in his eyes, and you ran after him, forcing yourself to match your pace with his. Even when it was way too fast for your taste. You told yourself to shake the stupid fears off, you knew ghosts didn’t exist.

The old door was at least a hundred years old, but heavy, it required Matthias to push it properly before you could get in. The flying dust at the front hall made you all cough, and you looked around warily. The first thing you noticed was how large mirrors were scattered all around, leaning against walls, on the walls, one had shattered on the floor, its shards glinting in the faint moonlight. Kaz coughed a few times more, then looked at you by his side and turned his eyes to the rest of his Crows.

“We’ll go our separate ways to get this done faster. Wylan, Jesper, Inej, upstairs. Matthias and Nina will go left. We'll go to the right. If we can’t find anything from the house, we’ll go to the yard,” Kaz explained, glancing around the hall. “And remember to look for secret passageways.”

Everyone stood still for a moment, before slowly starting to walk to where Kaz told them to go. Kaz sighed and nodded to you and you started to walk to what was once a dining room. Again, the walls had a lot of mirrors, you noticed. It was strange, but maybe the family that once lived here liked to look at themselves. The table was still set, some of the plates looked like they still had food on them. Whatever it was, it had shrunk and was now only a black thing, stuck on the plate. Two or three plates were shattered on the floor, some utensils laid there with them. A cupboard had fallen down from the corner, dozens of porcelain plates and bowls had shattered behind the table, covering the floor completely. You frowned.

“It looks like they left in a hurry,” you remarked. “Wonder why.”

Kaz laid a look on the table, his dark eyes scanning across the room. “Maybe an intruder. Or a gang, who murdered them, and that’s why they were never heard from again,” he gestured towards the wall, a brown stain covering it. “That may be blood, someone might have been shot here.”

“Yeah, probably,” you agreed, slowly making your way forward. Your feet met with something, and you looked down, grimacing as you saw a porcelain doll. “Hate these, so creepy.”

You picked it up, inspecting it for a moment. A piece of its cheek had chipped off, and a brown stain had ruined its once pastel yellow dress. You sighed, momentarily thinking about what the doll had seen, its owner, a little girl, having been murdered in front of it. You put it down on the drawer, glancing up on the mirror above it.

Something blue, distantly looking like a woman in a dress, flickered behind you and Kaz when he wasn’t looking, and you gasped, immediately turning to look behind you.

No one.

Kaz turned his eyes on you, and you scoffed, shaking your head. “I just thought I saw something. But it was just moonlight doing tricks.”

If you were honest with yourself, you knew the moon wasn't in the angle to make such tricks, but you had to explain it to yourself somehow.

You pulled away from the drawer, making your way through the spiderwebs to the kitchen. Shattered plates there too, utensils, knives, glasses. A large kettle that had been full of something that may have been soup all over the floor.

And again, those damn mirrors.

By now, you had a strong feeling how something wasn’t right, all your instincts screaming at you to get out of that house, but you pushed the feeling down as childish, determined not to show how uneasy you really were.

You ventured forward, coming to a room with a glass door leading to the back garden, and as you were passing it, you happened to feel a lump on the floor. You stopped Kaz by tugging at his sleeve. “Wait.”

You threw the worn-out carpet aside, revealing a hidden door. You smirked, laying a look at Kaz who narrowed his eyes, tapping the door with his cane. “Open it.”

“Open it, what?”

He rolled his eyes, a small hint of a smile gracing the corners of his lips. “Darling, would you open the door?”

You smiled, taking a hold of the ring handle. “Of course, my darling.”

The door opened with a slight bang after a few tugs, which attracted the rest of the Crows to the scene. You looked down at the pitch black cellar, then laying glances at each other. Kaz lifted his gaze to Jesper, who immediately took a step back, waving his hands in front of him.

“If you’ll suggest I’ll go down there, then no. You’ll never believe what we saw there,” Jesper panted, and Kaz raised an uninterested eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "Every room upstairs has mirrors, almost on every wall and–"

Kaz cut Jesper off with a groan. “I'm not interested about your newly found fear of the dark intertwining with our mission. We came here for the treasure, and we’re not leaving without it. Inej?”

Inej pursed her lips. “Kaz…”

Then, a screech was echoing through the house, and that’s when you flinched, taking a tight hold of Kaz’s sleeve, pushing yourself against him. Kaz stiffened slightly and hissed, but didn't push you away.

Jesper swallowed audibly, then raising his finger up. His voice shook a little. “What was that?”

Kaz groaned. “Old house creaking.”

“Kaz, maybe… maybe we should leave,” you muttered, frantically looking around, suddenly feeling like ghosts, or some creatures, were closing in all around you.

Kaz looked at you and huffed. “We are not leaving without the treasure. If you want to leave, then fine, I’ll get the treasure myself.”

“No, I’m not letting you go down there,” you exclaimed while trying to tug him back from the door, trying to pull it closed, but Kaz’s grip was too strong.

“Someone has to go, we didn't-”

Then, Kaz fell silent, staring into the mirror behind you and flinched with a gasp. He quickly averted his eyes from the mirror before he slammed the cellar door closed and stood up, tugging you with him as he started to walk away, and the way he squeezed your hand told you he really was scared, not spooked, scared.

You didn’t dare to look back into the mirror yourself, scared to see what got Kaz Brekker so scared, but at least now you were leaving the house, the seven of you walking faster than ever towards the carriage you had parked to the side of the road after riding along it became too rough and dangerous.

Then, you felt something thudding against your back, and you stopped for a moment, turning to look at what hit you.

It was that damn doll.

You let out a little yelp at that and nearly ran towards the carriage, thanking all the Saints and Ghezen how it was still where you left it, and Jesper made the horses almost gallop back to Ketterdam.

In all the other cases, for that amount of money and riches, Kaz would always lay out a new plan, a better plan, to get what he wanted to get, but in this case, it went without saying.

You’d never return to that house.

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[greenbergwrites]

oh wait wait wait hang on one more

temple attendant steve, dressed in wispy white tunics, quietly cleaning and caring for the temple and the supplicants by day, always so sweet and tender for the people coming to beg the god for children or whatever other things they are praying for

and by night getting thoroughly railed by his hungry god

I wrote like 1500 words to this and my computer decided it did not want to work properly anymore. I managed to rewrite what I’d lost and then get to this point before my computer decided to stop working completely. I had to wait to post this at work XD

So. Like. I meant to change the way it ends or at least write more but I don’t know when I’ll get the home computer situation fixed so I figured I’d just throw it up here for your enjoyment.

It is weirdly angsty, Bucky is hardly in it, and it's minor character focused for something that was supposed to be a porn prompt. But I still like it.

Warnings for a famine situation and all that goes with it and mentions of fertility issues.

Also, if anyone can’t tell, I’ve been scouring my inbox all week for goodies. This one’s from 2022 based on this post and then this story.

Alpha Fertility God Bucky, Take #2

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Steve was born an Omega runt and we’re not going to enlighten this ‘verse, either, so that’s bad. His birth pack gives him to the temple as a babe and that’s where he grows up.

He could grow up bitter and angry, but he doesn’t. Somehow, he turns out kind.

Each morning, he is the first to greet his Alpha Lord in the temple. The sun’s rays have barely peeked over the horizon when he slips through the columns of the great hall, heading toward a smaller back chamber.

In his teens, the birth rate in the village rose for several years. During that time, the temple saw a boom. The priests received enough money to enlarge the temple and build a new statue of their god, one seated on a huge dais, glittering gold and taking up most of the wall.

Steve does not approach this statue, though he takes the time to pause and bow to it as he walks.

No, the statue he greets every morning is the one that had been there when he’d been given to the temple. It’s in a small chamber now facing the eastern horizon.

Some of the younger attendants call it the morning god for the way its bathed in light each sunrise. 

Steve carries with him a tray, which he sets at the statue’s feet.

The first step in his morning ritual is to kiss the statue on each cheek.

“Good morning, my Lord Alpha,” he murmurs, bending to light the incense. “Did you sleep well?”

Statues do not sleep, of course, but Steve always asks. He hopes that perhaps, somewhere in the great universe, his lord hears a whisper on the wind and knows that someone cares.

The incense burning, Steve picks up a small, decorative bowl filled with perfumed water. Dipping two fingers into it, Steve sets about spread the perfume upon the statue.

When he was a child, he watched the High Priests perform this ceremony to this very statue each morning. Now, they do it to the new statue, but they wait until the doors are open and the village people can witness their dedication.

It is a show performed for the peace of mind of the villagers. This is not a show. It is worship.

“The drought continues,” he says as he works. “Three weeks since the last rain. The farmers worry too much of the food will rot in the fields and we won’t have enough for winter.”

The statue perfumed, he sets down the bowl and opens the last item on the tray: a small cloth tied into a knot. Inside is a small chunk of bread and cheese, the two of items together no bigger than his fist.

“We’re asked to reduce our offerings,” he continues. “I understand. Babes need food and I think you would rather see them eat. But I cannot let you go hungry, so I brought you this. It’s from my breakfast, so no one will will suffer.”

With everything set out, Steve kneels once more, closing his eyes as he leans his cheek against the statue’s knee. He stays there, allowing himself this peace, until the sun warms his back and he hears others in the great hall. Only then does he begin his day.

He began temple life as a cleaner. It is the easiest job for children and the attendants were always good about keeping them away from the statues when they were too young to comprehend. 

He did that job well, but the problem with cleaning is it is a mindless task. It was so easy to listen in on what was being said around him and through that, he heard the pain of the people in the village. What was he to do but offer comfort?

Too many times being caught by the priests and finally, they made it his job. He now helped the villagers with their offerings, listened to their stories, offered whatever comfort he could. 

It was not much in the grand scheme of things, but it mattered. It was a job he could be proud of.

When the great doors opened, the first thing Steve hears is the familiar sound of a wooden cane striking hard earth.

Old Man Erskine is the oldest Omega in the village. Every morning, he makes the trek from his little hut to the temple and leaves a modest offering of dried fruit seeds. They are never for himself; always, he offers in the same of someone he thinks can use an extra prayer.

For the past decade, he’s had trouble with his hip. The walk hurts him but he refused the notion of giving it up or asking another to make the offering in his stead. His only concession seems to be allowing Steve to help him from the great doors to the altar across the room.

“Who is it for today?” Steve asks as they make the trek.

“My granddaughter,” Erskine says, his breathing hard and labored with the effort. “The eldest one. Her sisters have all born children, but she and her mate are still without. She’s a good girl and I know she’d make a good mother. She deserves this.”

Steve smiles, squeezing Erskine’s hand. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a trio of seeds.

“To add to your offering,” he murmurs, tipping the seeds into the Omega’s open palm. “It isn’t much, just from yesterday’s snack. Perhaps with these, my lord will hear your prayer and grant her a blessing.”

Erskine’s own offering is meager, a scant few seeds, but it must be. They are all struggling in these times.

His eyes shine as he lifts his gaze to Steve. With his free hand, he touches his palm to Steve’s cheek.

“Bless you, boy,” he says. “What a joy you are.”

He bends his head, kissing the seeds and whispering a prayer before he flings them at the statue’s feet. As they fly through the air, Steve closes his eyes and adds his own prayer.

When the old man leaves, another takes his place and then another, and another. 

At some point in the morning–and he doesn’t know when–Steve becomes aware of a lurking presence in the shadows of the great hall.

He’s a tall, broad Alpha male dressed all in black, a sword at his hip and his hood pulled low. There is an air of power and confidence surrounding him that Steve has never seen before–not even in the richest of men.

The scent trail he leaves behind is intoxicating, heavy and dominating. It holds an undercurrent of arousal, as if the Alpha is on the cusp of his rut. It might explain why he’s in the temple at all, though he never goes to the altar.

Steve means to talk to him–to ask if he can offer guidance–but he is waylaid at every turn. 

First a new mother coming to thank the god for her easy birth and then a string of new brides hoping to be blessed on their wedding night.

The latest is a young boy, perhaps only eight. He’s too young to present yet, but Steve sees the Alpha in him already. The poor boy worries too much for his family, a weight of responsibility on him that should not be on one so young. The boy’s mother is set to give birth within the month and someone’s filled his head with the horrors of labor. 

Steve doesn’t ask who; he’s afraid that if he knew, he would hunt them down for hurting this innocent.

He kneels with the boy at the statue's feet, stroking his hair.

“I don’t have anything to give,” the boy whispers, watching others lay down their offerings. He turns to Steve, staring up at him with big brown eyes. “I didn’t…I didn’t know I needed anything.”

Steve smiles and kisses his forehead, reaching into his robes to pull out a silver coin.

“Here,” he says. “Give him this and tell him your fears.”

He would’ve used the coin to buy material for a new tunic. Some would call it a sacrifice, giving the coin away, but Steve doesn't see it that way. Alleviating this boy's fears is far more important. 

“It will be a wasted blessing, though, I think,” he muses. “The mother of a boy so strong and good could not fall to the labors of bringing his sister into the world. I’m sure of it.”

“Sister?” The boy looks up at him in surprise. “Do you think?”

Steve hums, carding fingers through his curls.

“Yes,” he says decisively. “Only the most worthy big brothers are given little sisters, and I can’t think of a big brother more worthy than you. In a month, your mother will be fine and you’ll have a sister to look after. You’ll bring them to the temple so I can meet them, won’t you?”

The boy beams. “Yes,” he vows.

Throughout it all, the stranger in black is an ever lingering presence in his periphery. The Alpha walks the edge of the room, a silent, intimidating presence. Watching.

It’s curious that no one has asked him to leave yet, given the fact that he has offered no prayer or trinket or even supplication to the god. This is a sacred space, it isn’t for gawkers. 

Steve has only just decided that if no one else will do it, he will ask the stranger to leave, when he sees the woman.

She’s another of the villagers, though not one that he ever remembers seeing. Her clothes are threadbare and worn, dark bags under her eyes and her hair neglected and unkempt. She’s far too thin, especially for someone with a growing babe in her arms and two small children trailing behind.

It takes such energy to care for the young, but this woman looks like she has nothing left to give. She’s exhausted, on the verge of tears, defeat showing in every line of her body.

Steve, the stranger in black forgotten, approaches her with open hands and an encouraging, sweet smile.

“What blessings do you ask for today?” He asks by way of greeting.

The woman hesitates, looking from the child in her arms to the two hiding behind her skirts. She looks back up at Steve, a little lost.

He understands. Whatever she’s here for, she doesn’t want the children to hear. He beckons another attendant over, bidding them to watch the children while he takes the mother across the room.

They kneel together at the altar, the mother staring at her lap unseeing. Her eyes brim with tears, her knuckles bloodless where she clutches her dress.

“It’s not right,” she murmurs, her voice coarse. “It’s not right to ask what I’ve got to ask.”

Steve touches her hand. “That’s not for us to decide. Go on. He will understand.”

She takes in a ragged breath, shaking her head just once as a tear slips down her cheek. She sighs the sigh of someone too burdened.

“The little one,” she says, “he’s six months next week. His Daddy’s already talking of another. He comes from a big family, you see, and he wants one of his own. I wanted to give him that, once upon a time. I did. But it’s too many mouths, my lord. The field’s aren’t yieldin’ what we need. One of us’ll be dead before winter’s through if we keep going like this.”

She closes her eyes, rocking against her hands.

“It’ll be me,” she whispers. “It’ll be me, ‘cause I won’t see my children starve. I won’t. But if I’m gone, who’ll care for them?”

Steve’s stomach drops. Suddenly, her thin frame makes too much sense.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” He asks softly.

“Doesn’t matter,” she says, cutting him a hard look. “I won’t see my children starve.”

The fire in her dies as quickly as it came. She reaches into her skirts with shaking hands and brings out a tattered cloth. When she unfolds it, it holds only a single slice of apple.

“It’s all I have to give,” she murmurs. She looks to Steve again, but this time, she’s uncertain. “I’ve never offered before. Never needed to–the babes came quickly, one after another. What do I do? Just leave it here?”

Steve swallows roughly.

“What is it, exactly, that you ask for?”

She trembles, her fingers spasming around the cloth. She has the look of a woman who knows that if she speaks the words out loud, she can never take them back. But she knows she has to.

“Make me barren,” she whispers. “I’ve had three, let me have no more. I don’t care if it makes him hate me, I can’t watch them waste away.”

She hesitates, her breathing ragged, before breathing out, “And I don’t want to die.”

Steve gathers her to his chest, squeezing as tightly as he can.

“You won’t,” he whispers. “You won’t, I won’t let you. Wait here, I’ll help.”

He lets go, thrusting himself to his feet and taking off toward the back rooms of the temple. Underneath the main chamber, the kitchens are situated. He runs through the halls until he reaches them, taking up a basket and filling it with anything he can find.

There must be something in his expression because none of the kitchen workers try to stop him, though many give him hard looks that say they will be telling the high priests. He doesn’t care. He will take whatever punishment they dole out, but he will not let a mother or her children starve. 

They have plenty, what is it for if not to help those that serve his lord?

He comes to a halt when he enters the great hall again. The woman still kneels at the altar, but the stranger in black is with her now. He squats in front of her, smoothing down her unkempt hair as she drinks from his waterskin.

Her burden is gone. Life had weighed her down only minutes before, but it’s seemingly disappeared. She stares at the stranger with a dazed expression.

The stranger stands, helping her to her feet. He kisses her knuckles and then her forehead before bidding her back toward her children. 

A shaft of light catches her face and to Steve’s utter bafflement, she no longer looks haggard and worn. Her once sallow skin glows with health, the bruises gone from her eyes and with it, her palpable exhaustion.

Steve starts to go after her, but the stranger intercepts.

“What have you done to her?” He demands, trying and failing to look over the stranger’s shoulder. “Move at once! She needs food before she keels over.”

“Be still, little one,” the stranger soothes, taking Steve by the shoulders. “She is well. She will not starve, I give you my word. I have seen to it.”

Steve looks up at him, confused and a little dazed himself. The stranger’s hood has been removed, the lines of a strikingly handsome face revealed. His scent is overwhelming, crackling like the atmosphere before a lightning strike.

“What did you do to her?” Steve asks again, softer this time.

“I did nothing but take her burden,” the stranger promises, touching his cheek. “She will have nothing more to fear.”

Steve frowns, looking down at the basket in his hands. He tries to peek around the stranger again, but he cannot find the woman.

“Truly, she will be alright?” He asks, scanning the crowds. “She will not starve?”

When he looks back to the stranger, it’s to see a sweet smile spreading across his full lips.

“You care very much, don’t you, little one?” The stranger asks gently.

“Of course,” Steve says, affronted. “These people trust me. They trust my Alpha Lord. What would I be if I took that so lightly?”

“Unremarkable,” the stranger answers, as if the question were not rhetorical. “And unfortunately common. Not many take their service to the gods so seriously.”

Yes, Steve thinks sourly. He knows too well.

He has seen it too often in his short lifetime, not just from other attendants but from the priests as well. His fingers tighten around the basket.

He will need to return it to the kitchens if the mother will not need it, but he can’t seem to find it in him to do it now.

“What brings you to the temple?” He asks instead. “You have been here a long time, but have made no offering. Do you have nothing to give?”

The stranger smiles at him again, strong fingers brushing along Steve’s jaw.

“If I said that I did not,” he murmurs, “would you give to me the way you have given to all the others?”

Oh. Steve blushes, the heat rising in his cheeks quickly.

The stranger has been watching him.

“Yes,” he answers truthfully. “If you tell me what you’d ask of my lord, and if it is not blasphemy, I would help in whatever way I can."

The stranger leans forward, his lips brushing the shell of Steve’s ear.

“That's good,” he murmurs, “because what I desire, little one, is a mate."