#halle and aster.

[neveraftcr]

" i don't think it's that heavy, and we probably don't need to move it but... you know, just in case. " her lips pulled into a smile, happy that he seemed on board with the whole idea even if it did mean potential manual labour. " oh yeah, they were lovely, they found my crying absolutely hilarious. " she wasn't sure if she liked the way he was smiling at her right now.. and she'd basically already told him she'd do it, there was no getting out of it now. " think our unofficial safe word last time for 'ice cream tongue hole'. we could stick with that, but it's a little too long so maybe something easier to say when you can't feel your tongue. i also think if i'm crying in the fetal position again, you should just assume i'm screaming any safe word. "

"oh! yes, i can totally do my best to move your wardrobe! i go to the gym but never really get a chance to flex it so maybe now is the time. or come to find out that your wardrobe is just way too heavy and i end up looking like a fool." aster would try and help however he can and, really, can also ask his brothers to help if necessary. one way or another, they'll get it done exactly the way halle wants it. "they were quite positive comments! highly encouraging - it should just fuel you to do more." the wide grin on his face only reflects the way his 'sinister' mind was turning, as if he had plenty of ideas in his head already. "well exactly! and we can always shout out our safe word if it's too much. or... do we not have one of those..."

[neveraftcr]

continued for @inkshadow from here

heat spread up her neck and covered her face. if the ground were to open up right now, she'd dive in willingly. " you think?! yes! yes! honest mistake! i- the popcorn was there... or i thought it was there... " she sunk down further, trying to make herself smaller and hoping she could just wake herself up and this was all a dream. " i'm sorry... i'll uh, you know, keep my hands to myself. i'll sit on my hands, you don't have to worry about... "

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Saturday 26 October 2024

A reliable perennial plant Symphyotrichum novi-belgii 'Purple Dome' (Michaelmas daisy, New York aster) produces a compact clump with a domed habit. In the autumn there are semi-double, purple flowers with yellow centres.

Jill Raggett

[asteroidaceae]

So I figured out what was still bugging me about the Sisters of Dorley series

Which, to be clear, I have been reading and enjoying slowly over the last month and more, often with my breakfast tea or at cafes. I'd fully expected to try them and bounce off them quickly, but they've been a very positive presence in my life over the past little while and have helped me unearth a few things. I've reccomended them to loved ones, but always with hedging and qualifications that I couldn't quite fully articulate. Recently, friends who adore the series have been warning me about chapter 24. "It's a dark chapter." "Brace yourself, read it through in one sitting and then read chapter 25 for emotional closure." I took their advice, braced myself and sat down to read it. A few paragraphs in, a voice in my internal peanut gallery spoke up: "finally, meat." I took my time with chapter 24, spent most of a week slowly savouring it, was sad that this storytelling would be "over with" like my friends had said when the chapter finished. I hadn't realised until I started on this chapter how missed I'd felt by so many trans coming of age stories in books and comics. For the first time in years, maybe even a decade, I felt seen. It was a spotlight on pains that consumed years of my life, that I barely talk about with my friends and loved ones of today. It was proper catharsis. I was recently reminded of that line about good fiction comforting the disturbed and disturbing the comfortable, and this chapter certainly did the job for me. I can understand how such a story would be too much for a lot of people. I can understand how hard it must have been for Alyson Greaves to write it, and I commend her for doing so. But now that I've read it, and since that little voice spoke up in my head early on in the chapter, I've understood why I'd felt a little emotionally wrong-footed by Dorley up to this point. To paraphrase a homestuck thing I haven't read, the meat to candy ratio of this story is pure fucked. This is the first time in a while that I feel like the story has fully delivered on the emotional stakes of the premise promised, where I've felt previous chapters pulled their punches or softened their blows at the last instant. I really hope to come across more of these moments as I keep reading, even though I doubt many of them are going to be as personal.

[fishyyyyy99]

This quote from The Half of It (one of my favourite films), reminded me of Never Have I Ever - of all the different kinds of love portrayed on the show - romantic, platonic, familial, and of course, self-love. And the quote isn't actually dissing love at all, even though it may seem like it. It's saying that love is imperfect, but that it is worth it not to give up on love.

[vamprisms]

alys rivers is such a good character. we need more women on screen that torture blonde men

[venalier]

SUNRISE AT CALVARY.

on day three, the unsmiling faces persist. it's starting to get to her. she's not expecting them to cheer at the sight of her or anything, but was it unreasonable to hope for even a bit of gratitude? a ' thank you ' or at least some advice and insight into what would do the best job of helping to prevent a disaster like this the next time around? she'd like to believe there was value in helping others help you. wasn't there?

the blank — and sometimes frosty, at worst — faces that stare back at her say otherwise.

it makes her hands, her efforts feel useless. she'd spent days before this in the library between classes and meals studying up on mountain lowland rural architecture, on roads infrastructure, local climate patterns, material and labor costs. she'd been ready to help make sure that the people who lived here wouldn't have to be locked-in again, the main thoroughfare to and from town to the nearest cities and suppliers swept out by another passing storm front.

it's not that she feels stung — just. just.

"you're pandreo, right? do you have a minute?"

out of habit, she approaches the man fearlessly, the fact that he was academy faculty an afterthought to his analogous age and — dared she say it? — disheveled appearance. she's not thinking about either of these now, but she can't deny that in her mind over the last three days she's seen him as more of a peer than an authority, the fact that they hadn't said more than a few sentences to each other since arriving in remire notwithstanding. they weren't the only two on the team sent to help with repairs and restructuring, but at this exact moment he was the closest at hand.

and there was something else about him, maybe, that she couldn't put her finger on — that made him feel like the best person to bring this up with.

under the cloud-thickened afternoon sky that couldn't seem to fully let go of the threat of yet more rain, intermittent light blotted the landscape of remire in alternatingly irregular patches of brilliance and shadow, as though half the village at any given time was in daylight while the other half experienced night. it'd been like this ever since they'd arrived. caeldori temporarily unloads her most recent drawn-up blueprints onto a nearby fieldstone wall; they had a few minutes before the surveyor came back with measurements and they had their next meeting with the villagers.

she lowers her voice: "i've been thinking, and i was hoping to find someone to talk with about this... have you noticed anything strange about the villagers? i can't help but feel like — even though we were asked to come and help, they don't look like they actually want us here. it's not just me, is it?"

   ♡   //   @revelale

[payidaresque]

Any directors that would be a dream to work with?

— I would love to work with Ari Aster or Christopher Nolan, there’s something about the way he makes films that excites me and reminds me of why I go to the cinema.

I never saw myself on screen in characters I saw in films as I didn’t think it was possible to be an actor, but I do remember when I was a teenager, going to see Nolan’s film, Inception, three times at the cinema, which is so rare for me, but I loved it so much. It was so inspiring, and I don’t usually get inspired by film, that inspiration usually comes from elsewhere.

Such as…?

— I seek inspiration outside of work, from life really and the things that get me excited. I’m into sport, well, obsessed with football, I’m a spurs fan, have been all my life!

I’ve also just done a marathon read of books by the Australian author Tim Winton, and I love music, listening to all kinds of genres, like Jordan Rakei, who I saw at the Albert Hall the other night. I also play guitar, but just for my own enjoyment, I’m not about to unleash my music onto the world!

Let’s say a music biopic came along, who would you want to have a crack at playing?

— Mika! I look a bit like him, if I shave my beard off! [laughs] But I don’t know if it’s too early to make one about him yet, or maybe do it as a musical, but I would definitely play him!

HOPEFUL ESCAPISM — Charlie Vickers for Behind the Blinds Magazine (Oct 2024)

[sorcerous-caress]

Putting makeup on them

[ Bg3, fluff, several characters ] [inspired by this ]

Minthara

You straddled her waist as you held the makeup brush. Minthara's laying figure below you remained stoic even as she closed her eyes delicately when you started applying the eyeshadow.

A peaceful silence fell between the two of you. Time fading with each gentle stroke against her skin. Her stressful life and age showed in the subtle wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, you paid no mind to conceal them.

Instead, you focused on her eyes and thin lips. Picking the right colours to complement her violet skintone and grey hair.

When you finished, she made no move to remove you from on top of her, nor did she offer the mirror you handed her more than a mere glance before focusing back on you.

"You did well." Her freshly painted lips said, gloss still shining on them.

Gale

Deep brown eyes looked up at you from where his head laid on your lap, puppylike and lovestruck as he smiled.

"I can't say I had personal experience in this field, but you'd be pleased to find me a most pleasant student." His smile slowly grew into a huge grin as you applied a cream to his face with your fingers, rubbing it into his skin with care.

"Is that what your professors told you? A pleasure to have in class?" You replied, picking up the brush and applying the perfect blue to compliment his eyes, "close your eyes for me."

"Well, no." He closed them, "in the most generous of cases, I was and as they described, a menace."

You chuckled as you tried to keep your hand study with all of his squirming, "I'm starting to agree with them." Maybe he found the sensation ticklish.

Dammon

You cupped his jaw in your hand, tilting his chin up as you leaned in closer. His throat moved as he swallowed, hands fidgeting with the hem of his appron.

"We're almost done, I'm just adding the final touches." You said as you readjusted the brush between your fingers.

He attempted to nod before hesitating and deciding against it to not mess up your work.

The most lovely of blushes adorned his sharp cheekbones as you finished applying it, leaning back and admiring your work.

Dammon seemed more at ease now, as he saw the pride in your eyes at your effort, something he was very familiar with.

Picking up your hand that did all the work, He held it gently in his own as he gave it a small kiss.

The Emperor

You weren't sure where to begin, or even if makeup is safe for mindflayer skin. Tentacles floated and twisted in the air around your form, as if ready to envelope you. Their tips would occasionally brush and trail along your figure, although The Emperor made no effort to acknowledge them.

"I'm waiting." His voice echoed in your mind.

You decide to go with a kid safe makeup kit. If it's safe enough for kids to eat, then it's safe enough for mindflayers... you hoped.

In a strange way, he did make the edible glittery highlights work for him. You thought as you admired your work.

Only when you went to grab the small mirror from your pouch, did you notice that the tentacles have successfully entangled themselves around you while you were too focused to notice.

The Emperor kept pretending that nothing unusual was happening.

You handed him the mirror, and he picked the small thing with his hand as he took a look.

"Now that I've indulged you more than enough, I need you to focus on your mission." Was the last mental message you got before you were unceremoniously kicked out of the Asteral plane.

Gortash

Servants scuttered around the ceremonial hall, carrying food trays and putting the last touches on the decorations.

Gortash sat on his throne in the middle of the commotion, fully dresses in his best of robes, with each silver line and accessory shined just enough to almost resemble a mirror.

You stood in front of him, between his knees, parted to give you the space to get closer. Brush in one hand and your makeup pallet on the other.

If you recall correctly, you did finish helping him with the makeup an hour ago. But apparently, some incident happened that caused him to require your assistance again, and immediately, as the servant who came to fetsh you claimed.

Gortash looked up at you with half lidded eyes, a grin on his lips as you took in his perfect face of makeup.

There wasn't much for you to do, really, the makeup was the same as when you finished an hour ago. So you just stood there while pretending to do something as you brushed away at his skin with an empty brush, occasionally adding the most subtle of powders.

Eventually, it had to end when a servant informed both of you that the guests should be arriving soon.

"Be a dear for me and stay close during the coronation. Who knows when I might just need your expertise again."

Mayrina

"It's been so long, I haven't done this since..." her words trailed off as her lips quivered, "Connor's funeral."

You gently wiped the tear stained black makeup from around her eyes. She held on to your shoulders as you cleaned her face.

Her eyelashes fluttered when you applied mascara to them, her fingers holding onto you as if to anchor herself.

"You shouldn't have...I might just cry and ruin it." She looked away from you with shame brewing in her throat.

"Then I'll just wipe it, and we will start over again," you reassured her, "as many times as you need."

Tears threatened to spill from her glossy eyes as she gave a small smile, carefully wiping away the tears she took a deep breath as she faced you again.

"No, no, I won't. I can be strong, like you." She gave your shoulders a squeeze.

Cazador

Candlelight illuminated the room to make up for the tightly closed curtains. You wondered how anyone is able to tell night from day in this palace.

Your fingers were shaking, you took a deep breath to steady them.

Blood red eyes followed your every movement.

Clearing your throat, you presented the pallet of colours to him. "Which one would you prefer?...Sir."

His lips curled in a mock smile, fangs just peaking through for a split second.

"Black."

He always chose black, yet you always asked.

You worked quickly and efficiently. Your purpose was to give some life to his undead skin and conceal anything that might cause suspicion.

Maybe he was waiting for you to slip, you thought as you applied the subtle black liner. Maybe he's waiting for the day you forget to ask beforehand.

You almost shudder at the thought of what he might do that day.

Karlach

She is trying to kill you, you thought, she definitely is doing it on purpose.

"I said I'm sorry, come on," her arms wrapped around you, attempting to soften you up with a hug, "please?"

You weren't buying it at all.

Each single time you'd finish applying her lipstick, she'd lean forward and drown you in kisses. All over your face, your neck and hell even your ears.

The first time was endearing, and the second time was a bit much, but 5 times in a row? You'd be a fool if you fell for that obvious trap again.

"Can you blame you? How could I possibly resist." She whined as she buried her face in your neck, "You're just so focused when you do it, and I get this urge..."

She continues, "you know, sometimes I just can't believe it, the fact I can touch you and kiss you and hug you, I haven't even felt a single touch in so long and suddenly I'm free from that damn engine to do everything I've longed for and more."

...

God dammit karlach.

With a sigh, you tell her fine, you'll do it again.

Maybe you really are a fool, but who wouldn't be after seeing that genuine smile of happiness on her face. You'd be the biggest fool in all of faerun if it meant keeping her happy.

Shadowheart

"What, like a doll? Are you sure you won't ask to dress me up next?" She gives a teasing smile as she sits next to you on the couch, looking over your side of makeup equipments and scattered brushes.

"You say that like you don't like the idea." You tease back as you get closer to her, one leg resting on her lap.

"Hmm, maybe I do. What are you going to do about it?" She lets you brush her hair behind her ears, using clips to keep it in place as you get a clear view of her full face.

"I'll let you pick mine if i get to pick yours."

That catches her interest, "You'll just hand me the power of putting you in anything I want... you do know how to persuade someone."

As you start applying her makeup, you feel her relax with your touches. Her skin is very soft against your fingers.

You take your time, making sure to pick something that suits her personal style. As enticing as the thought of going on with a full hot pink on her, you know there will be consequences later. She doesn't forgive nor forget.

After painting her lips, you hand her a mirror. She observes her reflection with a surprised expression.

"I knew you were good at this, I just didn't expect...wow" her eyes are mostly focused on the reflection of her lips.

With a smug experience, you ask if it her highness the princess has any complaints.

"Yeah....just one thought." She puts the mirror down as she leans closer, holding your thigh on her lap so you don't move away.

Pressing her lips onto yours, she kisses you with passion, making you chase after her as she pulls away.

"This colour looks much better on you."

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ succubus at the school of mythics ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous (at the end) ˚₊ ⊹

ft. scarle yonaguni, aia amare, maria marionette, aster arcadia, kyo kaneko, ren zotto (seperate) x f! reader — iluna, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ iluna members dating the new girl at the institute of mystics who happens to be a demon of lust┊2.8k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub scarle, aia, mari, aster, kyo, ren┊succubus reader (obviously), established relationship(s), high school setting but all characters are adults, ooc iluna probably, mentions of reader stealing life forces but dw she has the self-control of a loving partner not to go too far :) scarle - strap-ons, size kink, belly bulge kyo - slight fighting for dom, receiving oral, little hair pulling aia - risk of getting caught, fingering maria - sex toys, corruption kink aster - handjobs & blowjobs, overstimulation ren - heats/mating cycles, teasing & edging, horn stimulation, creampie

➤ author's note: it’s finally out of my drafts, oh my god. finally, a proper fic after thirsting so much for someone who hasn’t even debuted yet

the iluna institute of mythics tends to be hesitant when it comes to enrolling succubi and incubi into their ranks despite the strict policy not to discriminate based on species, that’s what the entire point of the campus was about! it’s not because they have anything against beings from hell, but they know that from the very moment the demon steps onto the site, everyone won’t be able to keep their eyes off them and chatting among themselves about how hot the new student is. it puts the entire school on pause because of how people skip their classes just to get a glimpse of them and are far too lovesick thinking about their next interaction rather than their assignments. don’t even get them started on the nightmare that is their birthday or valentine’s day, presents in front of their locker fill up the halls and leave no room to pass through them.

the worst part is that they are fully aware of all the attention they get and make no effort to put a stop to all of the nonsense— most actually try to milk it for the massive confidence boost added to their already inflated ego and the gifts they receive daily to have their hearts won. it’s just what they always do, feeding off the affections of others for their own powers. the hype doesn’t die down until every student is rejected or until they decide to get a lover and snap others out of their delusions of dating them. it took a lot longer than the administration would like, but after a few months, you found yourself a lover and the school is finally slowing down to its regular schedule.

━━━ .°˖✧ scarle yonaguni ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ the beautiful and alluring enchantress of iluna, truly, there isn’t anyone who could be better back for you as two lovers with such a seductive aura to them… at least that’s how it seems to outsiders whowould look at your relationship thinking that you both were dommy mommies who fight each other to the death for the right to top, but anyone who has spoken to scarle would know who’s really in charge in the relationship. scarle still can’t believe that she pulled you after engaging in conversation with you and revealing her true shy and awkward self without the help of a love potion (which she totally wasn’t intending on actually brewing, that would be crazy aha). she still trips over herself which talking to you, and even though you find it to be so charming, she dies a little inside every time you lovingly bully her.

even though she’s been prepped thoroughly by your fingers, she still feels intimidated by the size of your strap that had her stomach twisting in knots. yes, it was one that she picked out, no, she will not be backing down. she gripped onto the bedsheets under her as you eased yourself into her, whining at the big stretch that burned yet felt so pleasurable at the same time. it took a minute for her to adjust, but she was quick to roll her hips back into your touch to tell you that she was ready to move. scarle’s braced herself to wait for the brute force that came with your usual animalistic pace, yet it never came because you were fixated on something else.

her eyes trailed down and widened at the sight of the shape formed in her abdomen from you bullying inches of your cock into her, skin slightly raised with your strap to show you how good she was at taking whatever you gave her. she didn’t have much time to admire it though, slamming your hips into hers and hitting her g-spot with the tip so hard she saw stars. you were to hypnotized by her that your thrusts were almost sloppy, watching intently at her fat tits bouncing and tummy bulging in accordance with your movements mixed with the loud pornographic sound of sex. the way she moans and clenches around your cock would be enough to drive anyone crazy with lust, you can’t help but wonder if your pretty and alluring enchantress was actually a succubus in disguise.

━━━ .°˖✧ kyo kaneko ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ ah yes, the one you pursued because he was the only one who didn’t fall at your feet upon meeting your eyes for the first time. you always get what you want without any effort, so it was both dejecting and exciting to see someone who scoffed and rolled his eyes at your flirtatious behavior that would have had anyone else fainting on the spot instead. kyo was simply someone you thought you couldn’t have, making you want him even more. it did embarrass you to get off your high horse and flirt with him like a normal person, but after noticing that he was reacting with stutters and blushes while making weak insults, you knew that you already had him in the palm of your hand and made the humbling move of being the first to ask him out when it was always the other way around. that’s when you learned that even though he’ll always complain and be a brat about it, he actually indulges happily in everything you ask.

“don’t fucking look at me like that when you’re already kneeling between my thighs,” you giggled, looking at the blue-haired male sighed in annoyance before grabbing onto your thighs to pull you closer to him. despite acting like he was hella irritated, it didn’t translate into his actions with the way he keenly flicked his tongue against your clit and licking lope stripes along your slit. it almost made you laugh how the blunt and pessimistic kyo kaneko was secretly such an enthusiastic pussy eater. that’s what being a succubus’s lover gets you, you suppose, it really brings out another side of people in the bedroom.

while he does like to fight you for some semblance of control when you're in such a compromising position and attempt to leave you pathetic under him, you have to remind him who is really in change. it doesn’t take more than a tug on his cyan hair to pull him off of you to make him slip up with a whimper, making you snicker in response. he’s so cute when he pouts with your slick shining his lips and running down his chin as he starts complains like a brat before shaking his head out of your grip and moving on to continue with the reminder that he isn’t domming you today.

━━━ .°˖✧ aia amare ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ a heavenly maiden dating a demon of lust? how scandalous! despite the forbidden romance, she’s absolutely head over heels for you as you are for her. others at the school are supportive of your relationship and your folks could care less about how you feel towards an angel, but her family is a different story. aia was already in trouble for getting kicked out of the heavens for the accumulation of her petty crimes and needed to attend the institute of mythics as punishment, so something like dating you was certain to land her in even hotter water.

╰₊✧ they were definitely suspicious of your intentions with their daughter, worried that you were just trying to seduce her and siphon power from her, but you seem earnest enough when it came to caring for their angel so they aren’t as doubtful anymore as they were when they first met you. you’ve even reached the stage where you two are allowed to sleep in the same bedroom together with the door open, but that doesn’t stop either of you from getting frisky late at night while everyone’s asleep!

“just gotta keep quiet— sounds good, angel?” you whispered in her ear as heat spread throughout her entire body with your hand reaching under her nightgown and dipping into her underwear. it sounded easy enough, but the house was as silent as a catacomb and any noise made was sure to be amplified, the smallest moan having the potential to alert someone that the two of you were up to something heaven wouldn’t approve of. aia loves to take on challenges of all sorts, however she only realized how difficult it would be when you began to toy with her clit and press your fingers past her folds into her weeping cunt that barely needed any prep with how much she wanted you. she whined and it made you chuckle softly with your wings fluttering slightly, “not as easy as you thought, huh?”

feeling generous enough to help her out, you raised your other hand to rest over her mouth to remind her to remain silent and to muffle any sounds that threatened to slip. she must have been into it because you could feel her tighten around you after you stretched her out with a slowly added third finger, arching her back and bucking her hips into your touch. she gasped into your hand when you curled your knuckle to feel around her gummy walls and pressing into her g-spot, something that usually had her squealing when the gesture makes her orgasm all over your hand, but all she could do was let a groan that was smothered out by your hand.

━━━ .°˖✧ maria marionette ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ oh, maria looks at you with the widest, brightest eyes of puppy love— you’re simply so sexy and sophisticated in contrast of her adorable appearance and chuuni personality! she just has an attraction to girls who have more of a mature appeal, she can’t help it! meanwhile, you find her to be so endearing, how could she be one of the cutest dolls you’ve ever seen? she never felt things that her peers felt like sexual want before and didn’t have too much understanding about the action other than the biological function, but now that she’s a real girl instead of a doll, she can’t think of anyone better than a succubus girlfriend to guide her through this journey!

the vibrating toy you were pressing onto her clit was creating a strange foreign sensation within her by making volts of pleasure ripple throughout her entire body, making her core burn with pleasure as the tips of her fingers and toes tingled with numbness. it maintained an unchanging pace and the only difference in intensity came from the pressure you were putting on it, but just the slightest shift in force was enough to drive her crazy. she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight and neither could you, her pussy being abused by this silicone toy and reducing the cheerful mari to a pathetic moaning mess.

isn’t she just the cutest with her mouth making a perfect ‘o’ shape for her dulcet cries and her face flushed a pretty pink to match her color scheme? god, you just want her ruin her innocent mind and are looking forward to corrupting her, getting her drunk on the feeling of pure ecstasy you provide so that she’ll learn to be you for more of it— it’s just the instinct of a succubus to teach people all about their world of carnal desire! although, you think she might be even more excited than you are about discovering this new side of her that came with becoming a human and using it to spice up your relationship…

━━━ .°˖✧ aster arcadia ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ it makes so much sense that he’s the celestial one because he’s so beautiful that you assumed he was a demi-god of sorts, the most enticing eyes and unique hair you’ve ever seen immediately attracting you to him (you’re almost envious of how stunning he is). similar to the doll who’s now a real human, aster perfectly balances out your foxy charms with his “cyuteness” and he’s just the right amount of unseiso to bounce off your jokes. you just love it when he makes a dirty joke before acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about when you catch it, always with a sly smile on his innocent-looking face and humming with his sweet-sounding voice. of course, he can never outdo you since he’s still the bottom bitch we all know and love, but it’s simply so much fun to see him try!

he’s too feeble and still too horny to deny you, so he says nothing but a weak whimper and watches you continue to fondle with his balls and lick at his sensitive red tip after you already made him cum. his heterochromic eyes were already threatening to tear up from overstimulation as they stared deeply into your mischievous ones, feeling his thighs quake and back arch at the overwhelming pleasure. your head steadily bobbed up and down, holding him down slightly so that he wouldn’t be able to buck his hip into your mouth and everything remained at your pace. from his silly ahoge to his smooth ivory skin to his needy cock was gorgeous, almost distracting you from the task at hand because you just wanted to look at him forever. however, you were certain that you wouldn’t miss the look on his face and the moan he’ll let out in a minute or two, so you can afford to look away for a moment and focus on giving him another mind-blowing orgasm.

━━━ .°˖✧ ren zotto ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ one of his favorite things about attending the iluna institute is meeting other species as it’s always nice to meet another being who looked human for the most part but had things like wings or horns to set them apart from others. ren’s native planet didn’t have any creatures who feed off of live forces through seduction, so he was immediately enthralled by you and wanted to learn more about your kind. he was more interested in what you could do with your powers rather than what you could do for him and you were wondering if the life force of an alien was more powerful than that of a human, a relationship that sprouted from the roots of curiosity!

╰₊✧ ren’s actually thrilled to have a succubus partner to learn so much from, but he’s mainly grateful because he has had a bit of a problem ever since he entered young adulthood and was usually far too embarrassed to ever bring it up for previous partners. just alien anatomy things that weren’t human and biology that couldn’t be controlled, you know? he has no words to explain the wave of relief he felt when he awkwardly told you about it and you welcomed it with open arms, promising to care for him no matter how long his heat lasts or how wild things may get when he’s influenced by it. however, he can’t help but feel a bit uneasy by the almost sadistic look in your eyes.

his neediness and desperation for you increases tenfold when he’s in heat, his face buried in your tits and his cock pulsating inside of you frantic for release. he felt like he could burst with just the slightest shift of you body, but it was never enough stimulation. must you always be so vexing with rewarding promises if he does as you say? he felt like he was going to go crazy with not-so-subtle ruts into you to try and chase his high, but it was all for naught and only edged him even more. it just made you look at him with pity and coo at how pathetic he was, the alien prince infamous for destroying entire planets crying like a little bitch because you wouldn’t let him cum just yet.

he was in heat! couldn’t you be a bit nicer to him? he swears that he’ll let you torture him all you want a different time, but right now he’ll do anything for you to stop teasing him! you hummed in amusement and cupped his face to give him a kiss, running your hand over his skin and observing all of the little alien features that were normally hidden from plain set. eyes set on the glorious jet-black pointed horns atop his head, you experimentally wrapped your fingers around it feel the strange texture more properly and noticed a spark in his green eyes as electricity shot up his spine.

“oh, you’re sensitive there, aren’t you?” you cooed, pouting when you realized that he never told you about this wonderful snippet of information but smiling again when he got all flustered. you started gently, tracing patterns and running along the shape, noticing that his tail began to flick around and his cock twitching in reaction. with your motions steadily getting faster and rougher, he began letting out slurred moans and biting at his bottom lip to suppress them as he pulled you closer to his body. it barely took anything more than a light tug to get him to spill over, unexpectedly emptying himself into you and making you chuckle in response while he was huffing for air. you really needed to tease his horns more often!

request was [ iluna with a reader who is a succubus? i think it would be a really interesting concept! ]

[tresradiossolis]

💫—"Handsome devil."

Human Sun (the blond streak in his hair is Moon's doing).

[neveraftcr]

“You’re so, so, so pretty.” ( aster )

soft sentence starters: accepting!

cheeks heated up as she turned her head to look at him. why did it suddenly feel harder to remember he was a friend? " you mean the..? " voice soft as she pointed towards the actress on the screen. pretending she didn't know he was talking to her felt easier, safer. she didn't even know if he had meant to speak out loud and she didn't know why she felt hope, almost, that he was talking about her.

[bikananjarrus]

stellan gios; the pole star, the fallen star

(the fallen star variant cover by jama jurabauv; meaning of latin root word 'stell-'; the fallen star cover title text // the fallen star by claudia gray // pole star, wikipedia // julius caesar, act iii, scene i by william shakespeare // ursa minor constellation card by sidney hall, royal museums greenwich ; the north star whispers to the blacksmith's son by vachel lindsay; in the wind by lord huron // starry night over the rhone by vincent van gogh, 1888; the fallen star // light of the jedi by charles soule // summer triangle: asterism of 3 stars from 3 constellations, space(dot)com ; the fallen star // navigation by stars 1575 #1 by granger; pole star, wikipedia; evermore by taylor swift // constellations ursa major and ursa minor; the fallen star // north star by thomas lupari // stellan gios from 'a coruscant solstice' by grant griffin in life day treasury; right now by gracie abrams; the fallen star // poem by langston hughes // the fallen star // saturn by sleeping at last // the fallen star)

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.11

Summary: Wednesday works up the courage to use the D word, and for the first time since coming to Nevermore, she actually comes to genuinely learn a thing or two about you. And hey, maybe she can face some of her own feelings in the process.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

(Masterlist)

Tag List: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn-backup @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian

A date. That was the exact word Enid had used when telling Wednesday what needed to happen next. She had made it very clear that the word “date” had to be used in the question. “No more of that “outing” nonsense,” she had said. The girl had some audacity, Wednesday would give her that.

Now the real issue rested on what exactly Wednesday was going to do for said “date.” It was a word she hated using, it held far too much weight and responsibility and expectations. She couldn’t just ask you to go for a walk because you did that anyway. No coffee because it was a constant and you had started bringing her a coffee every morning anyway. No, it had to be more than that.

Dates took too much planning.

Which was exactly why she found herself on Enid’s computer, doing her best to use it without asking for help. There had to be something in the area that you would enjoy, right? But despair settled in the back of her throat as she came to a sudden, single terrifying realisation.

She had no idea what you would enjoy doing.

All the time she had spent with you, all the outings and coffees and tutoring sessions, and she didn’t have a single clue what your interests were. You clearly knew her very well, hence the autopsy outing, but she was at a complete loss. She raked her brain for every hint, every clue, every aspect of you that she had collected to try and figure out this small mystery.

The longer she sat there, the more she realised there really hadn’t been many clues to begin with. Your room was filled with everything you could find, not following a specific theme. The things you talked about mirrored everyone else, not your own interests. When she thought about it, she realised there had only been two times she had seen you doing something for you; playing piano in the opera hall, and skipping detention for birdwatching.

Birdwatching…

Typing on the computer was more difficult than using a typewriter. It didn’t click the same way. The only benefit was being able to erase her mistakes, but it still took too much time to type in what she wanted. Then there were too many search results to dig through, why couldn’t she just use a library instead? At least it was more rewarding when she finally found what she was looking for.

Nonetheless, she stopped her internal complaining when she found something that caught her eye. A few clicks to get to where she wanted, and her eyes scanned the words on the page. It would be a long shot, but she truly felt you would enjoy it. Hopefully her gut reaction was correct.

Now all she needed to do was ask you.

—---

“We haven’t had a chance to talk since you’ve been back,” Larissa said as you plopped down in the booth opposite her, coffee spilling out over your fingers.

You looked tired. It wasn’t an unusual thing after long breaks, you despised not being at Nevermore and having easy access to Nicholas. But this was different; your shoulders drooped more and your smile wasn’t as genuine. The shake in your fingers was usual, but not the glassiness in your eyes.

“It’s been crazy,” you chuckled lightly, though even that sounded forced.

“You seem tired,” she actually vocalised, leaning slightly forward on the table to hopefully put you at ease.

“Break was tough,” you admitted almost instantly. It was quite the surprise.

“Would you like to talk about it?” She asked.

You looked down at your hands and started playing with your coffee mug. A few small blood spots were around your nails and new scrapes were healing across your knuckles. You went boxing, Larissa thought with a hushed cluck of her tongue. As much as she knew you had a reason, few things brought her greater sorrow than seeing the scrapes and bruises across such sensitive hands.

“Kristi and Marcus started calling again.”

Larissa’s sorrow turned into sudden rage. You were still focusing on your mug, but she was seeing red. How dare they try to contact you again? They made it a point to do so about every other year, but as far as she was concerned, they had given up their rights to you when they dropped you and Nicholas off at Nevermore all those years ago.

She would never be able to forget the looks on yours and Nicholas’ faces when you realised that no, they weren’t coming back for you. They weren’t coming for Parents’ Weekend, they weren’t taking you home for winter break, they weren’t picking you up for the summer. No nine year old should ever be faced with the terrifying realisation that they had been abandoned.

They only ever attempted to contact you if they needed something from you. In fact, if she remembered properly, the last time they had contacted you was after the accident. Even then it was only to see how much they needed to pay in medical bills; not once did they show any amount of concern for your wellbeing.

It was times like this when Larissa wished she was a more violent person.

“Let me know if they call you again.” You looked up from your untouched coffee. “I will take care of it.”

You gave her a small smile; a genuine one, one that she found herself craving whenever you were around. The big smiles, the toothy ones that you had when talking about something you were passionate about, those were wonderful. They didn’t quite compare to the small ones, the quiet ones, the ones that were so soft they were practically a gift whenever you gave them. Larissa loved seeing that one.

“How has the term been so far?” Larissa asked as she leaned back in the booth and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

Now she could see that toothy grin that so often meant trouble.

“Besides detention?” You asked. Cheeky.

“You rightfully deserved those,” she answered with a light chuckle.

“It’s been good,” you continued. “Wednesday finally asked me on a date.”

“Did she, now?”

Larissa would admit she was shocked at the revelation. There were plenty of nights the past term when you would come by her office and pace, complaining time after time about how frustrating Addams was. Yet when she would ask if you wanted to give up, you would give her a look of utter incredulity; of course you didn’t want to give up.

The way you talked about Miss Addams was almost laughable; the sheer admiration on your face was beyond evident. And yet you were never ashamed, you continued to embellish. Whether it was about her intellect, or her personality, or her hobbies. You would ramble until you were out of breath or Larissa reminded you how late it was.

“Saturday morning, yeah,” you said, completely unaware of Larissa’s internal thoughts. “No idea what we’re doing but, you know, it’ll be fun.”

With a small smile, your eyes slowly slid shut as you sipped your coffee. The exhaustion was still evident in everything about you, but you looked serene. Larissa was unused to you looking at peace, yet whenever Miss Addams came up, it seemed so effortless. If a girl was all it took to keep you happy, Larissa was more than content to let you live out your life as the teenager you so rarely got to be.

—---

You had not dressed appropriately for the date, and Wednesday was on the verge of giving up and heading back to Nevermore.

She had explicitly told you numerous times that you needed to wear something warm because you would be outside. It was still winter, there was a possibility of snow, and she knew you got cold quickly. Yet what were you wearing when you met up with her? A button down, jeans, boots, and the thinnest jacket Wednesday thought she had ever seen.

“You’re going to freeze,” she told you, but you just waved off her concern and started walking. Now you were visibly shaking, and she didn’t feel sorry for you.

Maybe she felt a little sorry for you.

“Where are we even going anyway?” You asked through chattering teeth after only the first 15 minutes of walking.

But Wednesday didn’t answer you, she just kept walking. It was inconsiderate, she was well aware of that, but what could she do? Everything about this trip was supposed to be a secret, a surprise. As much as she craved to tell you, she was going to keep her mouth shut. It was for your own good.

“You’re not taking me out here to kill me, are you?” You asked, this time letting out a nervous chuckle.

Once again she didn’t answer, only looking at you out of the corner of her eye. It gave her a certain sadistic satisfaction to see your face drop. You froze in place while Wednesday kept walking; at least you couldn’t see the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Are you?” You asked again, your voice further away as Wednesday kept walking. “Wednesday!”

The sound of your boots against the cold ground grew louder until you were walking beside her again. You had pulled your jacket tighter around your body and your shoulders were hunched. If your wings had been free, they would’ve wrapped around your body to encase what little warmth was left. Wednesday wished you would let them out.

A tingle radiated up her arm as your knuckles brushed lightly against her hand as you both continued walking. A small part (a very small part) in the back of her mind told her to grab your hand. To intertwine her fingers with yours and feel your thumb rubbing in that way that was so frustratingly soft and comforting. And she nearly did when your hand brushed against hers again.

Just do it, she thought when, for a third time, you graced her with the touch of your fingers on her skin. It should have been easy, you were both alone and no one would see. There was a privacy you couldn’t get at Nevermore, which was exactly what Wednesday had been planning for. But she just couldn’t get herself to reach out, to actually hold your hand.

So imagine her surprise when you did it for her. When you grabbed her hand so gently it was almost torturous. Your hand was so much bigger, practically encompassing the entirety of her hand. And the warmth, god your skin was so warm, it was no wonder you were so cold.

She hoped you couldn’t feel her racing pulse in her wrist.

“What’s that?” You asked, and Wednesday’s shoulders relaxed when she saw the building up ahead.

Though now derelict, the majority of the aviary was still standing. Vines crept up the outside walls and through the broken windows while trees towered above, burying it in shadow. The evidence of past inhabitants remained in the form of nests littering the roof and window sills.

“You are gonna kill me, you bastard,” you mumbled, but judging by the squeeze of her hand, you were joking.

Hopefully.

Now it was Wednesday’s turn to pull you along after her, keeping a tight grip on your hand. She might not be the one to make the first move, but she was certainly not going to be the first one to let go. It was easy to understand why her father was always staying in physical contact with her mother; it was grounding, comforting, and reminded her of home.

The further into the building she led you, the more little noises of amazement you let out. Once fully inside, Wednesday realised just how much of a mistake it was to bring you to an abandoned aviary. With no regard for anyone’s safety, you practically ran around, pulling Wednesday with you whether her legs could keep up or not.

If she had wanted to lead you to a specific room, that plan was gone. You were so enthralled with the building, pointing out everything you saw whether you knew what it was or not. That was most likely the nest of a pigeon, oh look that’s a bluejay feather, those birds weren’t even native to Vermont. She could imagine this was what you had been like as a child; easily excitable and full of wonder.

It was a good look on you, that smile of yours. While you often had one, this was far different. This one reached your eyes and showed off the sparkle within them. She could see the slight chip in one of your teeth and the silver band of a retainer on your bottom teeth when you were talking. How lovely, Wednesday thought, to see such imperfections.

Where did that thought come from?

“I didn’t know birds set up picnics,” you said, and Wednesday finally stopped looking at you for long enough to remember the initial point of this outi- no, it was a date.

Right. This was planned.

What did she say? Should she tell you that yes, it was a picnic, Enid had helped her plan it? No, she couldn’t say that, it would be humiliating to admit that she had no idea how to plan dates, had never even been on a date, and had to have Enid of all people help her. She had needed help, and that was so humiliating that Wednesday would rather bury herself alive.

“It looks peaceful,” you said, and once again Wednesday felt a sense of relief that you were taking all the difficult things away from her. “Come on.”

With a much more reserved smile - though no less genuine - you pulled Wednesday over to the blanket and sat the both of you down. For the first time since the walk in the woods, Wednesday let go of your hand and let you do what you apparently did best. For having no idea about the intricacies of this day, you were certainly acting as if you had planned all of it.

The way you got everything out of the basket and started setting things out, one would have assumed you did this all the time. Wednesday certainly felt like it as you laid out her favourites in front of her while yours was more on your side. And when you poured the drinks, and started getting a plate ready for Wednesday before your own, and the way you held the plate out for her to take as if you were serving her your heart on a silver platter-

-no. No, Wednesday didn’t think she liked that terrifying possibility at all. It meant you cared. It meant you were willing to give things up for her, and that was hammered into her head when she saw the still angry wound on your neck that she had caused. No, that you had let her cause. And now you were offering her the rest of you as if there would be no consequences.

Say something, her mind told her as she took the plate from you and watched as you started making your own. You weren’t as careful about how you plated your own food, more just tossing it onto the plate without a care in the world. Nothing like the structured, separated plate you had made for her.

The list. Wednesday’s eyes widened slightly as she remembered the list in her jacket pocket. While you were preoccupied with trying to decide which specific piece of cheese you wanted - even though it was the same type of cheese - she grabbed the piece of paper and laid it out beside her. Positioned just perfectly so you couldn’t see it, but she could read it easily.

“How is your family?” Wednesday asked in the most nonchalant way she could with her heart trying to thump its way up her throat.

But the way you froze with wide eyes and a cracker sticking half out of your mouth instantly made her feel like she had started with the wrong question. You chewed your food slowly, so painfully slowly and for a moment Wednesday started to consider if death would be the best solution. Certainly it would be less torturous than waiting for what you would say.

“You wanna know about my family?” You asked incredulously with a look that was far too vulnerable for Wednesday’s liking.

“Yes,” Wednesday said around the lump in her throat.

Your eyes trailed off to the side as a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Wednesday listened as you finally started talking, telling her all about your family. You talked about your siblings, how one of them still hadn’t wolfed out yet, or how the other didn’t even enjoy blood, or how the little ones were doing in school. Onward to your abuelita, and your grandfather, and your mother. Wednesday was dizzy with your quick name changes and though she still wasn’t keeping up, she rarely got to see you so happy.

Only when you had ran out of breath did Wednesday ask you the next question, and on the day went. She learned more about you in one day than she had over the past months she had known you. You could play the banjo and fiddle as well, but your brother Nicky was the real fiddle player. That grandfather of yours had been a blacksmith, that’s where the sword you had sent her father came from. The list went on and on, and Wednesday kept a mental note to thank Enid for the questions.

Conversation died down as Wednesday ran out of questions, but it was a comfortable silence. It was nice, truly, to just sit in silence without any worries. There was no need to concern yourselves with homework, or exams, or the real world. Just to simply sit there and hear the nature surrounding you both without a care in the world.

She waited until you finished snacking before setting her own plate back in the picnic basket. You followed suit and started packing everything up without question. You missed the raised brow she sent your way, but she forgave you for the moment. Instead, she reached over and grabbed your phone that you had left on the blanket.

Thanks to Enid’s teachings, she found the app she was looking for and started searching. You finally stopped mid-cleanup as you looked at her with furrowed brows. More than once you tried to lean over to see what she was doing, but each time she would pull the phone away and hide it from your sight. Each time, you let out a huff before continuing cleaning up.

“Stand up,” Wednesday said once you were done and she had found what she was looking for.

You gave her a look filled with suspicion, but stood up anyway. She pressed “play” on your phone and set it back down on the floor, standing directly in front of you as the waltz played through the speakers. With a “deer in the headlights” look on your face, you let Wednesday position you properly.

“Do as I say.” You gulped audibly but nodded anyway. She felt your hand grip her waist ever so tightly and she pushed down the excitement at the gesture.

Waltz after waltz played as Wednesday tried oh so desperately to teach you even just the basics of dancing. She guided you slowly, correcting you when necessary and doing her best to keep her patience. It wasn’t that you weren’t trying; the look of pure concentration on your face was proof enough.

You were just so, so horrible at dancing.

“If you correct me on that one more time, I will cry,” you said as soon as Wednesday opened her mouth. She promptly closed it and let go of your hand before stepping back.

She missed the warmth your hand had left on her waist.

“You may be a lost cause,” Wednesday said.

“I know,” you threw your head back and whined. Under your clothes, Wednesday noticed the faint shift of your wings. It gave her a new idea.

“You can repay me for your hopelessness.” You looked at her and blinked once. “Show me how you fly.”

“They’re tucked away,” you said without giving it a second thought.

“Release them.”

“Release them yourself,” you shot back.

“Okay.”

She ignored the look of incredulity on your face as Wednesday stepped forward and pushed your jacket off your shoulders. Her fingers grazed your neck in the process and, for your sake, she pretended not to notice the goosebumps left in their wake. Although she certainly noticed the way you were looking at everything but her even though your hand rested naturally on her waist.

Thankfully that meant you couldn’t see the shake in her fingers as she started unbuttoning your shirt. In return, she also pretended not to notice the blush creeping up your neck as she went down your shirt button by button, her own anxiety making it a slow process. A silent sigh escaped her when she saw you were at least wearing an undershirt beneath the straps of the harness.

“I think you just wanted to take my shirt off,” you said with a strangled chuckle followed by your body tensing up underneath her fingers.

She stopped her movements and looked up at you through her eyelashes; you looked utterly mortified. Your eyes were closed and you were biting your lip so hard Wednesday almost thought she could see blood. Why did you look like that, like you were in pain? You were correct, she wanted to take your shirt off, it was the only way to reach the harness for your wings. What part of that was so painful?

You were too stuck in your own head to even look at her, so she used that time to push your shirt off your shoulders and unbuckle the harness. It fell to the ground as your wings practically sprang out, stretching out completely before tucking back around your shoulders in what Wednesday could only describe as a protective stance. A look of relief flooded over your face as your wings moved, finally free.

“Do they hurt?” Wednesday asked before she could stop her own mouth.

“They just get stiff,” you mumbled, finally looking down at her again.

With a look, Wednesday decided you looked completely different when your wings were out. Your shoulders weren’t so hunched and you stood taller. Why would you keep them put away if it was clearly uncomfortable? The furs had no choice in their transformations, but you had a choice in keeping them free or not. What could have possibly happened to convince you that they needed to stay put away?

It truly was a tragedy to see such things tucked away for no one to see. There was such power in them, yet they appeared to be so incredibly delicate. They moved as if they had a mind of their own, and maybe they did. As the feathers ruffled and they wrapped around both you and Wednesday, she determined she wanted to know everything about them.

“Wednesday,” you whispered. She looked up at you, her breath catching in her throat at how close you were.

Only when she felt your free hand cover hers did she realise she still had her hands where your harness had been buckled. If she focused, she could feel your heart racing in your chest, begging to escape. That flush on your neck had spread to your cheeks and oh, your face was terribly close. So close she could see the little scar running through the right side of your top lip.

She couldn’t bring herself to look away from your lips. Not even when she felt your hand cup her face so gently, pull her flush against you as if you thought she would break. Nor when your fingers scratched lightly against her cheek it was torture. Or when you leaned down so slowly, so close that she could feel your quick breaths on her lips. All Wednesday had to do was stand up on her toes and she could-

-*bang!*

Wednesday blinked once when your body tensed underneath her. Her feet stumbled over each other when you pulled her closer, all gentleness gone as you held her tight. Being so close, with your wings wrapped around her, she couldn’t see your face properly. All she knew was you were looking around frantically, scanning every inch of the building for the sound.

Another shot echoed in the air, and Wednesday didn’t even have time to think of what it could be before you grabbed her tight and sprang into the air. Something loud and shrill rang in her ears as she clutched your shirt in tight fists. The chilled wind rushed past her face and the ground was not beneath her feet and she couldn’t tell what was up or down and she was panicking.

The ground rushed up to meet her feet and she stumbled as soon as your arms loosened around her waist. Her vision was swimming and you were saying something but she didn’t know what, she just knew she needed a moment. Maybe a few moments. She went to step back and felt the ground fall away once again before your fingers tangled in her jacket and pulled her back into you forcefully.

“Quit moving,” you said. No, it was an order, how unusual for you. “Just give it a minute.”

But it wasn’t going away, and Wednesday was giving it all the minutes she could spare. She couldn’t tell where she was, the ground was still pitching beneath her, everything was moving, she wasn’t even sure if she was standing upright. All she knew was your hands were in her jacket and your wings were around her and she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

“Ground yourself.” You grabbed her hands and placed them on your chest again, and though she would kill you if you brought it up, she instinctively pressed closer until she could feel your heartbeat underneath. “Focus and breathe.”

There was no way she was going to look up at you and let you see her internal discombobulation. But she gave in and did as you said, focusing on the beat of your heart underneath her fingers. The gentle comforting rhythm gave her no doubt it would easily lull someone to sleep. Against every instinct in her body, against everything her brain was screaming at her, she let her head fall forward until she could rest her head above your heart.

It sounded like home.

“You good?” You asked once Wednesday’s breathing had evened out and she could finally open her eyes without severe vertigo.

She pulled back until she could look up at you. Your brows were furrowed and you were giving her the best smile you could muster, but she knew concern when she saw it. Good, she hoped you were concerned. Whatever you had just done to her was horrible and unsettling and she was mad at you. It had made her seem weak and foolish and you were looking at her too softly.

“What did you do?”

“I- I panicked,” you mumbled. “Brought us up to the canopy.”

Ah. That explained it. The queasiness, the vertigo, her stomach jumping up into her throat. It had been your fault. Though, she would admit, your reaction speed was noteworthy. The shot had barely reached her ears before you had made your move, and she could see how it would be admirable.

You looked guilty, almost like a child who had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. But Wednesday could see the way your wings still stayed near her even if they had to stretch further. She could see the way your hands were still subconsciously reaching toward her. Why? If you had thought there was a threat, you had reacted appropriately.

“Thank you.” A large exhale escaped your lips as you finally looked back at her. “But never do that again.”

“About that…” you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Don’t,” Wednesday warned, but you smiled sheepishly at her.

“It’s the only way to get down,” you said. Wednesday sighed.

“I hate you.”

[neveraftcr]

" you're welcome. " she spoke softly and once he was off her, she pushed herself back up, swallowing down the new feelings that had been bubbling throughout the day. she wanted to push them away, sure it was nothing, sure she just missed her boyfriend. her boyfriend. she had one, one she supposedly loved even if it did match any description given. " yeah we should clean up before you fall again. i might not be there to catch your fall and it will be far to traumatic to watch you actually die ." pushed a smile onto her lips, feelings pushed away and focused just on her friends. " and then maybe we can watch the princess diaries? i've been wanting to watch it since we talked about it earlier. " halle grinned at her friend, stood up and started to help him clean up his room.

— fin.

❝ r-right. you told me that. um, how clumsy.. clumsy you can be. ❞ their unideal position doesn't help the rolling boil of feelings in the pit of his stomach, feelings that were foreign to him in the sense that it actually made him feel... rather fulfilled. up this point, he'd just been happy that she was his friend and a great one at that. but the entire day now has him fearful that these feelings were something more. ❝ thank you for catching my fall. ❞ the words mask his true intention, which was to thank her for being such a great friend to him. he hopes that it's obvious to her by this point so aster just offers the best smile he can muster and laughs a bit as he tries to climb off entirely. one thing was for sure: he'll reject his feelings for her as much as he possibly can for as long as he can, convincing himself that its always just in the heat of the moment. ❝ let's get this place cleaned up, huh? and then we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night. ladies choice. ❞

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXIII

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Unlike the oracles of Day, the witches in Autumn have been known to prompt visions of the future using herbs easily found within the forest… 

Elain felt her heart thudding against her chest, almost painfully. She tracked the following lines with her fingers. The aged ink was rough on her skin. She had to hold back a grin, growing increasingly more pleased with the information she had found. 

Jewelweed. 

Primrose. 

Oak leaves. 

Elain whispered the name of each plant, committing them to memory. 

Her first instinct was to tell Lucien, to have him know as soon as she did that she had finally stumbled across information that seemed useful. 

They had been searching the library with Cora’s help, carefully going through each book case, reading the titles on every shelf. Elain could hardly remember how many chapters she had read, and how many pages she had flipped through. Words had begun to melt together, and she much preferred to spend her spare time learning a little bit more about her mate. 

Lucien was with his mother, though, and in the silence of their shared chambers, Elain remembered his warning. She needed to become more familiar with her abilities. The thought was enough of a push to get her started on one of the larger and more intimidating books she had thrown onto the coffee table. 

Aster.

Sugar maple. 

Hemlock. 

Elain skimmed over each word on the list one final time, deciding she would instead go and find Cora. She had last seen the other woman with the High Lord’s wife, going over floral arrangements for the wedding. Cora seemed to enjoy all of the planning, and while Elain had initially been resistant to giving her opinion on the reception, she could admit there was a part of her that was secretly looking forward to seeing it all come together. 

Elain had to remind herself she was not actually marrying Lucien, not in any real sense. 

She quickly wrote a note on a piece of paper Lucien had already used to jot information he planned to further look into. Placing the side with her looping scrawl onto his pillow, Elain took a moment to straighten her skirts and slip on her shoes. She had told Lucien that she would simply stay in their rooms, but her mind was whirling with thoughts. 

While those in Autumn refer to themselves as witches, they are more commonly referred to as seers across Prythian and in most of the regions on the continent…

Elain tucked the heavy book close to her chest as she walked into the corridor, slamming the carved door shut behind her using her foot. She blew a stray curl away from her eyes, hoping that Cora had returned to her room but had not yet gone to sleep. 

The Forest House was always a little more quiet in the evenings, and Elain liked walking the torchlit halls better when there were less people around. She had not been expecting to see anyone, especially since Cora’s room was not really too far from her own. 

As Elain spotted Callum slowly approaching, she inched ever so slightly closer to the stone wall, hiding the title of the book with her arms. She smiled but chose not to wave, maintaining her friendly expression as he came closer. 

Unlike Felix and Ronan, who tended to holler her name and flash her viper-like grins, Callum was usually content to ignore her presence. He seemed very serious on most occasions, and while Lucien insisted he cared very little for his brothers, her mate always seemed to have good things to say about this one. 

“Lady,” Callum said in greeting, his rough voice ringing in the empty hall. He bowed his head, the short strands of his hair looking like copper coins in the light of the flickering torches. 

Elain was a bit surprised that he had addressed her at all, but she had become very talented when it came to hiding her emotions. She mirrored him, tilting her chin down politely in a practiced gesture. “Good evening.” 

Instead of continuing on his way, Callum slowed down. Elain watched as he awkwardly adjusted his dark jacket, as he cleared his throat. “Looking for Eris?” 

Elain shook her head, not entirely certain why he was interested, but she saw no harm in telling him the truth. “I’m going to see Cora,” the book she was holding felt heavy in her hands and she adjusted her hold on the ancient object. “My lady’s maid,” she added to clarify, thinking that perhaps he would not recognise the name. 

Elain saw as Callum scrunched his nose, familiar. It was almost as though she was looking at Lucien whenever he heard something he did not particularly like. He quickly replaced the expression with a tight lipped smile. “Have a nice night.” 

“You as well,” Elain offered, but Callum had already turned his back on her. She had to fight a frown, trying her absolute best to convince herself that he was simply in a hurry. The torches in the corridor flared brightly, shocking Elain into releasing a little yelp. Before she continued walking towards Cora’s room, she cast a glance around her to ensure no one else had witnessed her small moment of embarrassment.

Elain decided that she would not dwell on the interaction with Lucien’s older brother, balancing the book in one hand as she reached for her skirts. She skipped steps as she went down a flight of stairs, turning a sharp corner and finding herself face to face with Lethe. 

If Elain had given it a moment’s thought, she would have assumed that the Autumn Court noble was blocking her path. She was not entirely fond of the other woman, but she smiled despite it, eager to maintain a level of peace between them. Elain remembered the way that Lethe had danced with Lucien during their first few nights at the Forest House, jealousy a wild beast within her, but she swallowed the feeling away. 

“Good evening, Lethe.” Elain said, keeping the slight annoyance from her tone, choosing to ignore her title. 

The smile she received in return was vicious, embers dancing in her eyes. Elain tried her best to just move past her, but Lethe blocked her path again in a flurry of black skirts. Elain noticed, for the first time, how pale the other woman was. It gave Lethe an eerie appearance, even if Elain could admit that she was lovely. 

“Lady Elain Archeron,” she responded, her brown hair styled in a braid that made it look as though she were wearing a crown. 

“Can I help you?” Elain asked, losing whatever patience she had for the creature in front of her. She remembered her manners, tilting her head to the side as if she were genuinely curious. 

Lethe shrugged, the movement elegant, like a dancer. She looked Elain up and down, her eyes falling to the book. With a small frown, she spoke. “How kind of you to ask, but no.” 

Elain attempted to move past Lethe one final time, but as she was blocked once more, her urge to groan grew significantly. Nose in the air and trying her best to imitate the Lady of Autumn, Elain’s tone was serious. “I’d like to get by,” she said, making it very clear that she was in no mood for courtly games. 

Lethe hummed, “I suppose you can pass.” She shifted out of the way, leaving a very small space for Elain to squeeze through. She looked at the nails of her hand in a gesture obviously meant as a slight. Dark brows raised, Lethe asked a final question, the words a seductive drawl. “Have I been distracting?” 

While Elain could detect the amusement in her tone, she had no idea what Lethe might be referring to. Ignoring the courtier, Elain moved around her, using all of her self control not to shoot her a frustrated glare. She could not help mumbling an annoyed “unfortunately” under her breath as soon as she was sure that Lethe would not be able to hear her. 

Elain quickened her steps, she had had enough interactions for the night and she really only wanted to speak with Cora. She held onto the book in her hands tightly, hoping that neither Callum or Lethe had seen the title or recognised the spine. 

As soon as she found herself in front of the thick door leading into Cora’s room, Elain felt as her shoulders dropped in relief. She had not even noticed that she was tense, but she was glad at the very least that Cora’s presence was always enough to ease her nerves. 

Elain raised her hand, fingers closed into a fist, ready to knock on the aged wood. Before Elain could do so, the door opened suddenly, Eris marching through the arch of stone in a blur of red hair and white shirtsleeves. 

Elain lost her breath as the heir to the Autumn Court crashed into her much smaller frame. She dropped the book as she collided into him, but Eris snapped out his hands, catching her before she could stumble. Her nose was pressed uncomfortably against his chest and she had loose curls of her own hair stuck between her teeth. 

Elain looked up, ready to make her displeasure clear, and to perhaps even bother Eris a little bit, but a wave of foreboding went over her. She felt unwell, like the stone floor had given way beneath her feet. 

Elain heard as Eris said her name, but it was a faraway sound, as though he were speaking underwater. She could still feel the grip he had on her arms, gentle. Golden eyes flashed brightly as Elain gasped, air pulled from her lungs. She was shocked at how easily her body went limp, at the feeling of her muscles losing their ability to keep her upright. 

Elain tried to ask Eris for help, but the world was a blur, and as everything snapped back into focus, she was no longer in the Forest House. 

There was a dagger made of gold in Elain’s hands. She held the weapon carefully, the blade flashing in the light of the setting sun. Elain let her finger drag along the edge. 

Rose petals, dark as blood, fell against a leaf strewn path. Elain took a small step, twigs snapping like fragile bones beneath her bare feet. 

A wolf howled somewhere in the distance, and agony ripped through Elain’s chest. The sound echoed in her ears, sharp and loud. 

Over and over, again and again, the wolf howled. 

Elain dropped the dagger, put her hands over her ears, and clenched her eyes shut. 

All she could see was unending darkness. 

Elain woke up slowly, pins and needles traveling up her legs uncomfortably. She shifted, placing her fingers against her temple in an effort to steady herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the room stopped its spinning, everything returning back to normal. 

Elain wanted Lucien, but she instead found herself with Eris. 

He would have carried her, she decided. Eris had placed her carefully on a small bed, the skirts of her dress trailing off of the mattress and onto the carpeted floors. The room came into focus, the flames in the fireplace were stoked to brightness and shadows fell across the walls.  

Elain blinked just as Eris leaned over her. Worry lined his expression, a frown pulling at his lips, but his voice sounded angry as he spoke. “What was that?” 

Elain took a moment to respond, choosing instead to sit up. Eris helped her lean against the headboard, offering her his hand so she could scoot along the covers. She looked around Cora’s room, taking in the familiar and neat surroundings. 

Elain’s eyes fell to the small sketchbook on the nightstand, where a lovely drawing of a hound was on the open page. She breathed in deeply to ground herself and to gather her thoughts, keeping her gaze pointedly away from Eris. Mixed with Cora’s scent of mountain air and spruce trees lingered the smell of apple orchards and campfires, distinctly Autumn. If Elain were less worried about what Eris would have said about her visions, she might have asked him why the pillows smelled like his jacket. 

“Elain, what was that?” He repeated, dragging fingers through his hair. He said it softly, encouraging her to speak freely. 

Elain frowned, finally meeting his eyes. “I had a dizzy spell,” she blushed, hoping Eris would believe her lie. 

“That’s a human ailment.” He replied, waving her comment off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. The worry was slowly leaving his features, his brows furrowing slightly in thought. Elain watched his eyes sharpen with a calculating edge, and could practically sense the way he was going over the events leading up to her vision. 

Even worse, Elain could feel as the level of trust carefully built between them began to crack, on the verge of shattering completely. 

Eris watched her, tracking each small movement with a predator’s precision. Elain sighed, knowing Lucien would not like the idea she was contemplating. Her resolve broke entirely as Eris raised an auburn eyebrow. 

“Eris,” she began, licking her lips and remembering who exactly Eris was. He was known for being awful and cruel, Lucien had accused him on multiple occasions of being selfish and manipulative, her entire family hated him with a passion. Elain placed a hand on his arm, overstepping perhaps in a way, but he did not flinch from the pleading look she cast him. “Eris, I need your word.” 

He held her stare, tilting his head. Flames flashed in his eyes as he nodded. “You have it.” 

Elain knew he could very well be lying, that Eris could simply turn around and share what he learned with his father, but she somehow knew that would not be the case. A memory flashed in her mind, one from years before, Cassian mentioning how Beron had tortured his own son, a frown on his usually smiling face. 

“You can’t tell a soul,” she said softly, but she tightened the hold she had on his arm. 

“You have my word, Elain Archeron,” Eris smiled, his promise cutting the tension in the room. Unlike his fleeting amusement, the genuine emotion transformed his sharp features until he became a softer male. The torches flared around them in response. “I do love a good secret.”  

And so Elain told Eris Vanserra, prince of Autumn, one of the Night Court’s most well kept ones.