#i contemplated should i be putting tis in the tags or not but. AS I JUST SAID

[cosmik-homo]

Oh a bit back I ventured that Blake/Avon is Toxic Yuri and Avon/Vila is toxic yaoi. I was too scared to post it then but the more I think of it the more I'm convinced I was up to something so

[prettyboykatsuki]

on deaths door | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dark content ahead, afab + gender neutral reader, dark comedy / black comedy, attempts of suicide, the use of the word rapist in text, mentions of self-harm scars, penetration, intense but not rough, gojo is doting, no curses au, ceo!gojo 18+

note: this fic is mostly intended to be a dark comedy and have an unserious nature. it is very absurdist and it makes light of both suicide and assault. please proceed carefully if you find this might be triggering to you.

PLEASE READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED.

✮ wc ; 2.6k

✮ a/n ; i actually really really enjoyed writing this and would love to expand on it potentially. KJSDFJSKD.

reader has been through a lot so they are super nonchalant about everything just as a precaution

"Uwah," A voice startles you from your place on the roof. You gasp, amidst tears and sobs from shock. "Are you about to kill yourself?"

You whip your head around to see who could be beside you at this hour. It's a deliberately obscure location, too so it's extra weird. You were hoping to die in peace in a place where it'd be hard to find you, after all.

But there's a strange man interrupting your plans. Very strange. He's speaking Japanese rather clearly but his hair is a shock of white and his eyes are blues as saphhires. Despite the situation, his voice is light and cheerful - almost amused.

You can't tell if he's just a figment of your imagination. He's so unusual it stuns you out of your tears. You can't find your voice to respond for a moment.

"Yes," You reply, unsure of what else to say. He smiles at you.

"Hm." He looks contemplative. "Well... if you don't want it, can I have it?"

You stare on, confused.

He grins. "Your life, I mean. Can I buy it off you?"

Starting to wonder if you've already died, you stretch your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face just to see if any of it is real. The touch makes it gasp. You're definitely still alive. So, that means this strange man is also real and asking to buy your life.

"What?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not a cheapskate or anything, the price will be fair." He walks closer to you from where you've been standing all this time. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, picking you up and setting you down further away from the ledge with a harsh yank.

Like a kitten whose mother is dragging it by the nape, you fumble onto the rooftop concrete. As soon as you're moved, you drop down to your knees - unable to find anymore strength.

"Are you... trying to traffick me?" Your voice is coarse in your reply as you stare up. It's a genuine question. You aren't sure what else to call this. The strange, unusual man just laughs in your face.

"Mm, well - not really. Though, if you say yes I'll make good use of you in all ways." The last part makes your skin crawl a little. "You were weeping so pitifully when I came up here... super pathetic. I just thought it'd be a waste if you died since I got to see something interesting."

There's something really wrong with this guy, you think. But this is such a common thing in your life, you aren't sure how shocked you should be.

There's also something equally wrong with you, because you're so fucked up - you're considering it. If he paid you enough to cover all of your debts, you could cut ties with all the bullshit your fathers debt has put you through. You could run away. Not there's anywhere for you, even after that. But at least you'd be unshackled from what makes you most miserable.

You don't want your life, but if this guy wants it so bad then...

"...How much will you pay me?"

His eyes light up when you ask this and it unsettles you further. "As much as you want. And you'd have to live with me at my beck and call."

"Like a pet." You reply easily.

Instead of denying it, he snaps his fingers and grins. "Exactly! Or maybe more like a plush toy that I take every where?"

Either way, you're not any kind of human. You're barely human now though with how much you work, so you aren't sure it makes a difference. You stare at him. And he looks back at you with a smile - all pearly white pristine teeth.

Who cares anymore, anyway? Even if he were to mistreat you, you're not sure you'd even feel it. It's all numb. He can have your life if it means you can escape what you're running from.

He looks rich, so maybe.

"Don't worry," He hums, and he reaches over to pat your head while your face is covered in tears. You don't flinch for some reason. "I don't like breaking things I've bought unnecessarily."

Something is wrong with you. Your self preservation is in total fucking tatters. But still, you want to say so you do. Maybe it's the absurdity, or the fact you truly don't have anything to lose. Nothing could make your misfortune any worse.

You sniffle and shake your head. He's dangerous and weird, but at least you could pay off your debts.

"Okay," You say weakly.

His smile gets impossibly wide.

You're wonder if you'll regret your decision.

__

He's filthy rich.

You should've expected that. You did, kinda. Because only rich people would think to do or ask something so absurd like ask to buy another persons life. Still, he had a driver waiting for him downstairs and his car is definitely a sports care. A McLaren, you think. One of the places you catered for ages ago was full of rich people with flashy cars and you remembered some of them.

He sits with you uncomfortably close in the back seat but doesn't speak to you at all during the ride. Not until you arrive at the destination, which is a giant building where the strange man certainly lives.

The driver (named Ichiji) calls the strange man Gojo-sama, which makes you feel extremely on edge. They whisper about something when you're out of ear shot, and Ichiji gives you a sorrowful look that you can't place.

The name Gojo is familiar to you, but you aren't sure where you've heard it.

After taking a long elevator ride to one of the upper floors, you end up in the strange mans condo. When you get there, he tells you take off your shoes and gives you nice slippers.

"Welcome to my humble abode," He says, still frivolous and speaking to you in what feels like a foreign tongue. "And also yours. I'll set you up in the guest room later, but you'll be keeping my bed warm mostly so keep that in mind."

The size of the place is absurd and so is the decor. What have you gotten yourself into? You must've gone insane. You're too afraid to touch anything.

"Am I like... a sex slave?" You ask curiously.

He frowns at you. "You make me sound like some kind of rapist. I guess now that I own you....it might make me one... but you agreed to come here so don't be like that!!" He huffs, childishly.

His response is somewhat incomprehensible to you. He's stranger by the minute and completely tactless - but for some reason, it's hard to distrust him. He doesn't raise any immediate red flags aside from being unusual.

You almost want to say it wouldn't matter if he was, as long as he pays you but decide not too.

"Okay. Do you want me to take my clothes off?" You reply, nonchalant. He stares at you.

"...I know your heads pretty fucked up, but don't you think you're being too blase about all this?"

Your brow furrows. A weird response for a guy who willingly understands this is a less than ethical situation "Would... you prefer I struggle and refuse you? Is that your fetish?"

"No! Well..." You look at him flatly as he thinks on it, almost blushing at the thought. You make a face of disgust "Not in this case, alright! It's just too pitiful and I'm not that type really.... Be more cautious."

"But you were planning to fuck me from the start, right? Or something."

He nods. "Well, yes. As a way to earn your living and for me get my urges out whenever. Finding people to have sex with is a hassle."

You shrug.

"Right. I can cook and clean too. I've done pretty much every job you can think of it,"

He waves a hand at you. "We can discuss it later." He puts a hand in his necktie and pulls on with a small smile. "Right now, I want to test out my new toy so..."

You should feel more disgusted by how he refers to you, but you don't have it in yourself.

"Can I shower first?"

He looks surprised but nods. "Uh-huh. Just wear one of my shirts when you come out. Everything else is in the bathroom. It's upstairs, first door on your left."

You stand to your feet, nodding.

__

It takes you ten minutes to figure out how the shower works.

His shower is nice. The whole place is nice. Nicer than any shithole you've ever lived in. He has a lot of nice bath products, though you aren't sure how you feel about smelling like him since you're borrowing his.

You examine your body a bit in the shower, looking at old scars as you wash and rub yourself clean. Thankfully, you gave yourself a trim downstairs not long ago.

It's embarrassing in retrospect but you've not had much of a choice in the first place. You're sensitive, unsure of the last time you've touched yourself given how much you work. You think of your job and feel guilty for how you're going to miss it. But you recall that you were preparing to die not even two hours ago and feel less bad.

You whimper a little as you finger yourself open under the water - getting wet easier than you thought. You have to lean against the wall, but with enough coaxing you get three fingers in. You're still horny when you shut the water off and step out.

You dry yourself and put on lotion - staring in the mirror. As told you borrow one of his shirts, but it's too big on you and you can see your nipples too clearly which makes you embarrassed.

You reason you're about to go fuck a stranger anyway, and decide to step out right after.

__

You decide against wearing underwear since his shirt fits on you like a dress, but regret when you come back down stairs feeling aware of the breeze on your went cunt.

He's sitting on the couch with his legs spread, dress shirt unbuttoned but still in his clothes. He hears you before he sees you, eyes widening. You suddenly get self-conscious under the weight of his stare.

"Better than I thought," Is his only assessment. Your skin grows hot.

He beckons you over to him and you go, unsure of what to do until he pulls you into his lap. Forcing you to straddle him, he wastes no time in feeling you up. His hands at your waist and chest. His face lights up in pure amusement when he sees you bare underneath.

He stares at your pussy for a long time.

"It's good," He hums, his hands brushing against it. Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal, a pathetic moan leaving your lips that makes him laugh. "Pretty."

You don't have anything to say to that so you keep quiet. Gojo slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt to asses your wetness, surprised surely by how wet it is. Without warning, he plunges a finger in. He looks up at your face, your hand covering your mouth so you don't moan.

"So wet," His voice can't contain his amusement. "What's this?"

"I was," You shiver half-way through as he plunges in another finger and it goes in smoothly. "I p-prepared in the shower and masturbated. I thought you'd just want to stick it in and I didn't want it to hurt.

"Haah," His voice is sharp, suddenly breathy. Something hard and big presses up against your leg. "You're talented in seducing me. I'm not so ungentlemanly, but I'll let it go this time, alright?"

You nod. He uses a sticky hand to unbutton his slacks and push his boxers away. You gasp at the size of his cock. You're not a virgin exactly, but you haven't had sex with anyone this big ever. He chuckles a little, pressing the head of his cock against your stomach and cunt as if measuring it up to you.

More wetness pulses, shame filling you - because you're almost excited to be fucking this strange man you've only met today. Weirdly, you don't feel unsafe around him. Your eyes glass over from lust.

He sticks his fingers in your mouth and you suck automatically, instinctively. His smile is predatory all of a sudden, teeth glimmering.

"So obedient," He says, sharply. "Ah, I have a good eye. It really would've been such a waste."

You're content to throw yourself at him, chasing the pleasure. His fingers taste of salt and skin, making you want something else entirely. It's not long before he pulls away though, wrapping his hand around his shaft and making it shiny. You blink down at where he fists his cock - your spine tingling at the sight.

"Look at you," He mutters, amused. "Do you always get this excited? Is it normal for you to fuck strange men or am I special?"

You shake your head. "It's only been two people."

"Then I am special," He replies. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his cock pressing against your hole - fluttering. "We have good compatibility."

Before you can say a word, you feel his length push inside of you in one swift motion and gasp. It's so big, so impossibly big - and even with how much you stretched, there's a touch of resistance that's making your entire lower half feel like it's jelly. Almost numb from the sensation. Buzzing from adrenaline and want.

You feel full. In your stomach, in your chest - your whole body feel complete. When you manage to open your eyes, you look at Gojo and find yourself taken aback. His hair is pushed back from his hand and he looks... different. He's handsome now that you realize. His face looks...pleased.

You talk before you can think about it.

"Do I feel good?"

He laughs sweetly, before pressing a kiss to your temple that feels to affectionate for people who barely know each other.

"Uh-huh," He says. His hands are strong, tight on your ass as he bucks up into you - causing you to collapse forward. The pleasure makes you shake, sensitivity through the roof. "Feel so good. Hahaha, how lucky."

You cling onto Gojo's shoulder and bury your face into his neck. He doesn't stop you. A large hand comes around the back of your head - the other one at your hips as he thrusts up into you with alarming force and precision. He feels so good it's a little scary, and you can't keep the noises from slipping out. You moan and whine each time the tip rubs against you inside, soft walls barely able to accommodate the size.

Your body feels hot everywhere he touches. It's been so long and Gojo is so careful but so intense. His expensive dress shirt rubs up against your nipples each time he moves. It's so good, so good - makes you want to cry.

"You're so sensitive." He laughs against your shoulder. "Gripping so tight every time I move. Do you want to cum so bad?"

"Yes," The words are a sob. Just a little more.

"Uh-huh. Tell me where to touch you. How should I make you cum."

You're too shamelessly pent up to feel shy anymore. "Touch my c-clit, please, please."

"Got it, got it - don't cry."

Gojo listens to you well. Thick fingers and an angled hand find your clit with ease as he bounces you on his cock with no regard. Your eyes roll back instantly, immediately - as an orgasm washes over your entire body. Back arching, you cum hard around the base of his cock - but Gojo just keeps fucking you through it. He doesn't stop even when you come down, only moves you both so you're laying on the couch on your back.

He kisses you then, and you meet his mouth with sloppy tears running down your face from the pleasure.

"Let's see what your stamina is like, yeah? See if you can keep up with me."

__

He fucks you unconscious.

Essentially. Though you take with enthusiasm even during your exhaustion because the sex is phenomenal - you have no idea when you stop.

You wake up in a bed, and you wake up completely clean. You don't know whose bed, but there's a large figure besides you. Half-asleep and fully exhausted, you feel shy thinking about the fact he probably bathed and dressed you while you were out.

What a strange man, you think - to do that.

He's talking to someone on the phone. You don't really make out much of the words, though you do hear your name in bits and pieces.

"...A college student.......- young then -...... open a bank account for.... - debt...- pay it all off before it becomes annoying.... look into -."

You shift under your blankets half asleep. A hand comes up on top of your head on the pillow, pushing hair from your face.

"Did I wake you?" His expression is hard to read in the dark with your eyes barely open. "Sorry. Almost done. Go back to sleep."

So you do, because you can't find strength to do much else.

The bed is warm, but your sure the heat you feel is from the strong, gentle head petting your head as you rest.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour. 

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood. 

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head. 

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning. 

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong. 

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-" 

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?" 

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over." 

*

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him. 

Even if she tied it to one condition. 

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat. 

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 

*

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends. 

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel." 

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should. 

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. 

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?" 

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday. 

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph." 

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell." 

This gets him a huffed laugh. 

"He'd love this place, it's really cool." 

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard. 

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself." 

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit. 

"Listen, your highness …" 

"Steve is fine." 

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick." 

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly." 

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?" 

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged." 

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets." 

Eddie frowns. 

"Dustin as in the kid or …" 

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon." 

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way." 

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow." 

*

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains. 

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?" 

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number." 

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 11

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 3.7 K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

You spent your days wandering after Elain like a lost puppy. Everywhere she went, you weren’t far behind. You weren’t sure why you felt so drawn to her, but her presence brought you a sense of peace and comfort. She accepted you the way you were. Not that Feyre or Nesta didn’t, but Elain didn’t ask questions or look at you with pity, as you often found the other two doing. While you didn't talk much, Elain had no trouble putting you to work in the gardens on the roof of the House of Wind. Your knowledge from growing up in the mountains, farming, and cultivating in a harsh environment was invaluable. Elain welcomed your insights on deep-rooting plants and flowers that could withstand the torment of Ramiel mountain storms.

Sleep didn’t come easily, often disrupted by cold sweats when your mate managed his way into your dreams. Many nights you chose instead to bathe, sit on the balcony, or wander the great halls of the house. Feyre seemed content to leave you under the care of her sister, returning to her own home on the river, back to her old life and her baby boy. Nesta, too, filled her time, heading out early in the morning to train with her Valkyries. She offered for you to join her, but you politely declined, not quite prepared to leave the mansion's walls.

As soon as the sun crested the mountaintops, you would be out of your room and in the large kitchen, preparing your own food. You still opted not to join the rest of them for dinners, finding that the food they often ate unsettled your stomach with its complex flavors you hadn’t yet grown accustomed to.

After you had eaten, you would be on the roof of the manor, hands in the dirt, pulling weeds, tending to fresh blooms, and trimming away the rest. Elain would find you hours later, her wide-brimmed sunhat tied below her chin and a smile on her face. Often, Lucien would come to find her in the midafternoon, pulling her away for some task or another, with a coy, cheeky smile playing on his lips. She would disappear for the rest of the afternoon, and when you had finally finished tasks that should have taken less than half the time, you would wipe the sweat from your brow, shower, cook dinner, and try to sleep before the sun went down, hoping to get a few hours in before your mate found his way back in.

You hadn’t seen the elusive Cassian, who appeared to still be in Windhaven. You learned through whispered conversations between Feyre and Nesta that it was another Illyrian training camp. Unlike Azriel, Cassian seemed much more involved with the soldiers, so it brought you no small amount of relief when you overheard that Cassian’s stay would be extended a few more days.

On a particularly challenging night, when you couldn’t will yourself to sleep and the sun had long since set, you finally threw back the sheets and made your way to the kitchen, looking for anything to do.

Pouring through cabinets, pulling out various bowls and plates, and scouring the pantry, you decided to make a childhood favorite: cranberry cookies. You mixed the ingredients at a much slower pace than Elain, measuring them solely by heart and the memories of your mother, her hand over your own as she stirred the bowl, humming softly. The rhythmic motion of stirring the batter, combined with the sweet, tart aroma of cranberries, filled you with a bittersweet nostalgia. 

As the cookies baked, you leaned against the counter, watching the firelight dance on the walls. The familiar scent enveloped you, bringing back fleeting memories of simpler, happier times. Your mother’s laughter echoed faintly in your mind, mingling with the crackling of the fire.

You were so lost in your own mind, you didn’t hear the door to the kitchen open, and didn’t even turn to look until you heard the sound of clanging behind you. When you whipped around, Azriel was standing at the end of the island by the door, placing a pile of weaponry on top of it. His face was covered in dirt and grease, with black smudges around his eyes, which only highlighted how light his hazel eyes were. He wore the leather armor you had seen him in before, also covered in dirt and grime, and his hair was a wild mess.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t think anyone was in here.”

You paused for a second, your hand perched tentatively on the edge of the counter as you took him in. You hadn’t seen him since the night he brought you here, and you weren’t sure if he had been busy or just avoiding you. Either way, you didn’t mind. “It’s fine,” you said, turning back to the stove and leaning against the counter.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, still pulling various knives out of hidden pockets around his armor.

You jostled your legs lightly against the cabinet. “No, not really.”

Azriel walked over to the sink, pulling off his gloves and attempting to unbuckle the vambraces on his forearms, which seemingly gave him trouble. He gripped the leather belt in his mouth, attempting to pull them apart. When he still couldn’t, you walked over to him. “Let me help,” you offered.

Azriel extended his arm to you, turning it upwards so you could better see the buckles, which you made quick work of. “Thank you,” he whispered.

As you undid the last belt, the armor fell from his arm into your hands, heavy and worn. He flexed his scarred hands and arms, the veins and muscles beneath protruding as the places where the belts had dug into his skin burned a dark red color. You held the heavy armor in your hands and considered how much the rest of the armor must have weighed. “Would you mind doing the other?” he asked.

You shook your head and took his other vambrace, undoing it and placing it next to the first on the counter. He shook his hands out, laughing lightly to himself. “You’d think after so many years of doing this I’d be able to undo my own armor.”

“I’m sure you would have gotten it,” you reassured him as he turned on the faucet, allowing the water to stream over his filthy hands. He cupped them, then brought the water to his face, scrubbing at the skin, the dirt and grease smearing more into his skin as he did so, water flinging around and landing on the counter. You took a step back to avoid the splash. He peeked out from his hands, “Sorry,” he said.

You turned to a drawer, pulling out a washcloth. “Stop,” you told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He seemed surprised at your touch, turning to look at you, water dripping from his hair and off his face. “You’re making it worse,” you laughed.

Azriel threw you a soft smile as you ran the cloth under the water, rubbing a bit of the bar soap into it until it suds up. He turned, leaning his hips against the lip of the sink, his scarred hands braced on either side of him as you prepared the rag. You wrung out the cloth, grabbed a tea towel hanging from a cabinet, and draped it over your shoulder. Stepping in front of Azriel, who towered over you, you noticed he lowered himself slightly, his face now just above your head.

You reached up, the damp cloth in your hand, and began wiping the dirt from his face, careful and deliberate in your movements. His skin, hardened and tight against his cheek and jawbones, softened under your touch. You avoided looking directly into his eyes as you traced the cloth down his nose, over the curve of his lips, and along his chin, revealing his beautifully tanned skin beneath. When you brushed your fingers over his brows, water dripped from the overhang into his eyes, and you laughed softly. “Sorry about that.”

He only smiled back, “It’s fine.”

You steadied his face with your other hand, gently pushing his hair back from his temple as you washed his forehead. Your mouth parted slightly in concentration, and when you finally managed a glance at Azriel, you noticed he was focused on your lips. You quickly closed them, a flush creeping up your neck. You continued to clean him, even after the dirt was gone, your touch becoming softer, more lingering as you traced the lines of his face. The intimacy of the moment hung between you, both hesitant to break the delicate connection.

The sudden dinging of the stove pulled you out of your trance, and you stumbled backward slightly. Tossing Azriel the tea towel to dry his face, you made your way over to the stove, trying to steady the fluttering in your stomach as you pulled the tray from the warmth of the oven.

Azriel chuckled, “My face is now the cleanest part of my body.” He dried his face with the towel, his hair still sticking out wildly, now damp from the rag.

“You’re welcome,” you noted, trying to sound casual.

He threw the rag and cloth into the sink. “Thank you.”

You pulled a cookie from the tray, taking a bite as the warmth melted on your tongue. Azriel washed his hands again, drying them before coming over to the stove. He kept a fair amount of distance between the two of you, a stark contrast to the closeness you had shared moments ago when you could almost press your body into his.

The room seemed quieter now, the air thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. You looked at Azriel, who was now examining the cookies with a sort of detached interest. “Want one?” you asked, offering the tray.

He nodded, reaching for a cookie. “Thanks.” He took a bite, the soft crunch filling the silence.

His eyes rolled back, closing shut as he leaned back slightly. “Mmm.” He let out.

“I know, right?” you replied, grabbing another cookie.

Azriel opened his eyes, taking another bite. “These are fantastic.”

“An old family recipe.” You brushed your hands together to get the crumbs off your fingertips.

“Do you bake a lot?” he asked.

You used to. When you lived with your mother, you were always baking something, using ingredients you could find in the woods or trade from other fae living nearby. You had even made these same cookies for your mate to seal the bond. Baking had once been a constant in your life, with some baked good always cooling on the windowsill of your cabin. And then, one day, you just stopped. “I used to,” you said quietly.

“You should start again,” Azriel replied, wiping his hands on his armor.

You took your time pulling the rest of the cookies from the tray, placing them onto a platter. “Maybe.”

Azriel watched you meticulously stack the cookies before placing a towel over the top. “How are you doing?” he finally asked.

You didn’t look up from your task, placing the baked goods in a breadbox. “Fine.”

“You seem to be doing well.”

You went to the sink to wash the pan. “I think I’m doing well, given the circumstances.”

You scrubbed the pan more than necessary, unwilling to turn and look at him.

“I think this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me.”

“Well, all the other times the circumstances were a bit different,” you replied, drying the pan, still not turning to him.

Azriel didn’t respond, waiting to see if you would say anything else. 

When you didn’t, he merely said, “I’m sorry for what happened.”

You paused, the pan still in your hands, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. You finally turned to him, meeting his hazel eyes, now clear and free of grime. You felt a slight pang of fire start in your stomach, biting back what you wanted to say. “It happened,” you responded instead.

“If I could have stopped it, I—” You let the pan slip from your hands. Whether you lost your grip or the water caused it to be slick, you were unsure, but it clattered to the floor in a loud cacophony of bangs.

“Don’t,” you said, finally looking at Azriel, who seemed to be already moving to pick up the pan. “Don’t start that,” you warned.

“I just—” He continued.

You glared at him, the small flame in you growing higher. “You could have done something.”

“At the time, I didn’t even know where you were, I just heard you—” he said, making his way over to you. You took a step back.

“You could have done something before then.”

Azriel stopped, seemingly puzzled. “You told me yourself that you knew about her circumstances. You said it: her life was hard.” Your eyes scanned his as he took in and seemed to now understand what you were referencing. “You saw how she was with you when you touched her.” The flame in you grew into an inferno. “You saw how she slunk around the camp and hid from the males. You saw how she was battered, bruised.” You shook your head, trying to shake her face, bloodied and beaten, from your mind. “You knew. And you didn’t do anything.” You gulped back tears rising in your throat.

Azriel reached one hand out to you. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”

“Nothing about this is complicated,” you shot back. “You knew what was happening, and you were complicit.” You shook your head as silver lined your eyes. “Gods—did you know what they were doing to her? To all of them?”

Azriel’s mouth fell open as he stammered out, “I knew they were physically aggressive to them, but—”

“Did you know they were raping her?”

Azriel stopped in his tracks. “No,” he said.

You were unconvinced, just crossing your arms around yourself and shaking your head. “You had no clue?”

“No, if I had known, I would have—”

“What?” You asked, glaring at him. “Stopped them? You didn’t seem to care much when you knew they were beating her.”

“Illyrian culture and society, it’s—it's very old-fashioned,” Azriel continued.

“We don’t live in the old days,” you interrupted.

“Y/N, I’m trying to help them.”

“By letting them stay there?” you asked.

“They don’t want to leave,” Azriel offered.

“Anthea tried to escape. Did you know that?” A tear fell down your cheek.

Azriel paused again. “I didn’t.” He took a second. “But I’ve offered the others to leave, and they refuse.”

You yelled out, “They’re terrified to leave!” The tears began to run more. “What else do they know? Their entire life is brutality, and males taking advantage of them, hurting them. They are breaking every single day. They’ve never known kindness. How do they know to leave if anytime they defy someone, they are brought near death? How do they know there is anything out there other than that?”

Azriel just looked at you, his hands open in front of him, mouth slightly agape as you pushed the tears from your face. “You are promising them a life they can’t imagine exists. And none of you can see that because you don’t know what it is to suffer at the hands of someone else.”

Azriel’s eyes grew dark. “You cannot tell me I don’t know suffering.”

“Not theirs!” you yelled back.

He raised his voice, “I know my own suffering!”

You stepped back slightly, your hand hitting the sink as you recoiled from his yell.

He continued, his voice strained with emotion, “I know what it is to be hurt at the hands of those who should care for you. I know what it is to have your body brutalized. I know what it’s like to try and scrub your body clean of them and not feel any cleaner.” His eyes were black as you gripped the sink. “Do not tell me I do not know what it is to suffer.”

Your voice trembled as you said, “Then you should know what it is to have someone watch as you are hurt and no one steps in to help.”

Azriel’s eyes remained locked onto yours as your breath wavered slightly. “What do you want from me?” he asked.

You paused, unsure of what to say.

“Do you want me to burn it to the ground?” he asked, his face still tense. “Do you want me to rip them from their homes?” He gestured around himself. “Do you know what will happen if I do that? If I suddenly take them all?” He stared at you as you gulped down the fear. “I will have thousands of Illyrian soldiers banging at my doorstep. All of ours. Now, I know you’ve been living your little life of luxury up in the mountains, but those soldiers can kill faster than anything you’ve ever seen. They will tear this country apart bit by bit. Now, do you want that?”

You couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and they flowed freely as you hardened your own stare. “No.”

Azriel’s black eyes stayed fixed on yours. “Then don’t tell me how to govern these people.” He stammered slightly, “This—this is a delicate system and it requires finesse, not brute-fucking force.” He stopped, bringing his hand to his eyes and rubbing them. “I just—I want them out. I want this to be done. But I can’t change the mindset of thousands in one day. And I won’t risk the lives of everyone by being reckless.”

He looked at you, his face softening slightly. “I can’t do that.”

The tears poured from you as your heart beat wildly, your fingers gripping the sink with white knuckles. Your breath escaped you in ragged gasps as your body froze.

“Y/N,” Azriel started softly, “I’m sorry.”

You whimpered as he moved towards you, wincing back when he raised his hand. “No!” you screeched.

Azriel stopped, looking distressed. “Y/N—” he pleaded.

You dropped from the sink to the floor, curling into a ball as you cried. Azriel stood over you, stunned. “Y/N,” he repeated, his voice desperate.

You rocked back and forth, knees pulled to your chest, heaving out heavy sobs, unable to even fight back.

Azriel stooped down, and as he did, you pulled back even more, choking on your sobs. “What—what can I do?” he asked, helpless.

You whimpered again, trying desperately to wrap yourself into your body, to ball up and protect your midsection.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please,” he pleaded.

The kitchen doors burst open as Nesta came careening down the stairs, her hair wild and her silk nightdress flowing around her. “What did you do?” she screamed at him.

“Nothing!” he replied, raising his hands in defense.

Nesta dropped to her knees beside you, her hands cupping your face as she examined you. She turned back to Azriel, “Back the fuck up, now,” she commanded. Azriel leaned back, landing on his rear as he scooted away.

Nesta turned back to you, her eyes softening. “Breathe, breathe, love,” she cooed.

She took exaggerated slow breaths, which you mimicked. “Just look at me,” she instructed. “Deep breaths, in and out.” Her hands still cupped your face, steady and reassuring. “You’re doing a good job.”

Her calm, collected presence began to soothe you. “It’s alright,” she murmured gently. “You’re safe here.”

She continued to breathe slowly, deeply, guiding you through your panic. “Everything will be okay,” she promised. “I’m here with you.”

Azriel watched from a distance, his expression a mix of guilt and helplessness, as Nesta patiently comforted you, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

You breathed in and out in sync with her breaths as her thumbs traced the rhythm on your cheeks. “Just breathe. You’re safe,” she repeated soothingly.

From behind, Azriel whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Nesta hissed over her shoulder, “Shut it.” She turned back to you, “Keep breathing. It’s okay.”

When you finally steadied yourself, you instinctively leaned into Nesta’s chest. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders, murmuring, “It’s okay,” as she ran her hand over your head. “Just keep breathing for me.” She rocked you gently. “You’re safe with me.”

Your breaths grew less choked with sobs as your mind quieted. Nesta continued to remind you to breathe in and out, rocking in time with you, her hand brushing your hair back. “Just calm down,” she whispered.

She looked behind her. “Azriel, make yourself useful. Get me a wet rag.”

Azriel scuffled from the floor, leaning over the two of you to run a rag under water. He wrung it out and handed it to Nesta. She cupped your chin, your eyes meeting hers as she tenderly wiped your face, the coolness soothing your racing thoughts. “It’s okay,” she cooed again.

When she finished, she wiped some water that pooled on your chin with her arm and brushed her thumbs over your eyes. “You’re okay,” she reassured.

Azriel started to speak again, but Nesta, over her shoulder, hissed out, “I think you’ve done enough.”

Nesta wrapped her arms around you, lifting you slightly as you rose with her. “Come on.” Her strength was enough to lift you under your knees, cradling you in her thin but muscular frame. “Let’s go lie down.” You curled into her scent, warm and inviting, reminiscent of your mother, as her heartbeat filled your ears. You gripped at the silk of her gown as she walked towards the stairs. Turning over her shoulder, she instructed Azriel, “We can talk about this later.” She scanned the kitchen, “Clean this up.”

She walked out of the room, still cradling you in her arms, as she brought you through various hallways. Finally, she pushed through doors into an already darkened room. She placed you into sheets that had been tossed and turned in, and smelled of her, as she crawled in next to you. Cradling you to her, she brushed your hair from your face, still shushing you as she did. You pressed your head into her chest as she continued to whisper, “You’re safe. You’re safe with me.”

My lovely readers who have asked to be tagged, you are safe with me: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba

[asukiess]

writing year in review ✍️

tagged by the spouses. 🫶

what a year it was for writing.

JANUARY

annotated (felinette)

Félix and Marinette share a quiet moment together in the shared space of Adrien's bedroom.

FEBRURARY

time marches back (loveyblanc)

“But you and me, I think we could have a lot of fun together!” it's the last thing she remembers before chat blanc hurls her against a wall.

MARCH

the secrets we keep (post s5 adrien character study)

In the wake of a summer that Adrien never wanted to end, all that he wishes to push away comes back to haunt him when the school years starts again: self-doubt from identities that feel no more real than anything else; ghosts of parents who still talk to him; and most all, a fear that the people he loves will leave him in time, too. however, maybe the person who can relate most to him is the one he's never far from.

JUNE

cordially yours, nathalie sancoeur (nathalie character study)

the letter is addressed formally in a way that suggests unfamiliarity, and nathalie appreciated this. it eased the irritation. an apology bookended by 'madame' and 'très cordialement'. or: nathalie receives an email from her parents and reflects.

I love this fic. I love this fic forever.

AUGUST

for the hope of it all (eminath)

"in five years, there’s a house on the water. adrien’s fumbling with the rope knot keeping our sailboat tied to the dock. you’re watching him from the sand.” a pause, and then: “alive, i might add.” or: nathalie tells her boss's wife just how she plans on stealing her away.

SEPTEMBER

the light that throws itself on everything (eminath)

the light that throws itself on everything, stretching twice, at dusk and again at dawn, agrees to stay, but only for a while.

this was a really exciting experience for me. I'm really, really happy with this, and happy for what it has done for me creatively.

NOVEMBER

as the wren sheds her feather (emilie & adrien)

Just as he had been born for her, she’d been born for this. Looking down at the creation of her own making, her own desperate wish manifested, she praised how well he lied. So human, he told with his pricked-purple skin and ten toes and ten fingers, his golden hair thickened with tissue and blood. So human, and yet there was a palpable thrumming in her wedding ring, a hummingbird’s heartbeat around her finger that now made her more than a wife—it made her a mother. So human. From viscera, with love. Just like any other. or: everyone comes to terms with adrien's arrival.

one of my favorite things I've ever written. this is it.

wips under the cut that fill in the missing months: emma dupain cheng horror fic, you should be happy series, as well as a whole lot of eminath, including one where they're teenage runaways.

APRIL

you look like...

here's a fun one. emma dupain cheng, notable theater kid, puts on her school's production of Hamlet. she begins to begins to think Emilie is the ghost. she begins to develop a kind of god complex. she begins to believe her girlfriend, Marcie, playing Ophelia, won't make it out of the play alive.

MAY help you clean (the blood off your paws)

part three of the you should be happy series. adrien contemplates snapping himself. it's a shame that felix is always looking out for him.

they fight for a while. ladybug shows up, adrien tries to punch felix, misses, accidentally punches her in the mouth.

JULY

circa 1995

I have 10k words for this fic. I was obsessed. I have a WHOLE outline. Emilie runs away from London, aged sixteen, and bumps into Nathalie, who picks up a summer job in Paris to leave an ex-girlfriend back in the French countryside.

it's about queer love. it's about summer romance. it's about losing a friend too quickly.

AUGUST

here, I also want to commemorate a gabrieminath wip I was working on in august, called no room in frame, if not just for this section:

OCTOBER

sacre coeur

nathalie nightmare fic. emilie is unwillingly turned into a deity who cannot die, so she causes a lot of trouble in nathalie's dreams.

DECEMBER

I've been working a bit on the sentiemilie au between the holiday rush. here are some wips:

[countrymusiclover]

2 - Prisoners of Sky People

Part 3

Star Crossed Enemies

Tag list ( send ask to be added ) @severa-kane @100foreverfiles @ocappreciation @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @lover-of-books-and-tea @kmc1989 @caprisunzz

The moment I began to regain consciousness I felt a lot of pain. Blinking my eyes open I instantly shut them seeing bright lights shining above my head. Finally peeking one eye open I got adjusted to the brightness enough where I attempted to move forward seeing I was inside a large metal dropship compared to the one I came down in two years ago.

Unfortunately the second I went to take a step forward my body was yanked backwards rather harshly making me nearly scream till I bit my lip. “Agh! - smart play using zip ties.” Eyeing my wrists and ankles were held down on metal poles.

Shifting my gaze around the room I didn’t see many shortcuts to escape. The hatch in the floor was shut and there were zero sharp objects I could use to snap my restraints so I was a sitting duck. My pack and weapons were laying on the opposite side of the room beside a makeshift chair. “We’re smarter than you people think we are, grounder girl.”

“Bellamy.” I muttered barely above a whisper not hearing the metal hatch open and close before I noticed the boy with curly hair sitting a few feet away from me on the makeshift chair.

He pushed himself up to stand , coming to stand directly in front of me. “You’re friend downstairs isn’t much for talking. So I’m hoping you will be up to having a conversation with me. What’s your name?”

“Cassio.” I simply replied preferring to be called by a nickname Glass gave me then my full birth name the Ark had given me. “Yours is Bellamy, right?”

He sent me a slight glare. “You were listening in on our conversations weren’t you. What did you find out about us hmm?”

“That they sent you down here like lab rats to die. You may look at us like we’re the enemy who wants to kill you but you should consider the ones who put you all on this ship and dumped you down here just to save the place you came from. Doesn’t sound like you’re leaders care too much about anyone but themselves.”

Bellamy lifted his head silently biting his lips as he took in the girls words before himself. In the few weeks they had been there he had declared the same philosophy to get the majority to remove their wristbands.

There was something about the way she said the words with such anger that he began contemplating if she was from the Ark or not, but he instantly pushed the crazy thought to the back of his mind.

“How many of you are there?” Bellamy asked me.

“12 different clans with over thousands upon thousands of grounders and only about 80 of you now. Is my math right?” I tilted my head to the side smirking until I heard a girls voice shouting from downstairs even though the metal hatch was shut.

“This is Raven Reyes. I- I'm from Mecha Station. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Doctor Abby Griffin. Doctor Abby Griffin. Now!”

My whole body stiffened up when I heard someone say her name. It had been a long time since I’d heard my mothers name. It sickened me to my stomach.

All that hate and pain coming back to the surface.

Bellamy saw my facial expression completely change. From where he was standing I appeared very pale and like I had seen or rather heard the name of a ghost. “You know someone down there don’t you, grounder girl?”

“N - no I don’t.” I did the best lie I could.

Yet it was like he could see right through my facade now where he stomped over yanking me up from the ground. He firmly held me by my forearm with my hands still tied behind my back by zip ties. “You’re lying and I’m going to find out why soon enough. Come on, let’s get your ass down there.” He pushed me down the ladder where I landed harshly on the harsh metal floor with half the group's attention on the radio and some of the others looking at me.

My mothers voice brought tears to my eyes that I couldn’t hide. “Raven? Are you there?”

Shifting my gaze over to the girl that was standing next to the one manning the radio it wasn’t difficult at all for me to recognize who it was. “Mom? Mom it's me.” The familiar figure of long blonde hair that belongs to my sister spoke towards our mother, even though she didn’t know I was her sister.

“Clarke?” Our mother asked with such relief in her tone over the radio static.

Our mother made sure of that with all the lies she spewed out over the years.

“Bellamy! What the hell are you doing to her? She could’ve been severely injured.” Clarke, my sister whipped her head around dropping down on her knees searching me over for any injuries.

He jumped down the last two ladder steps coming over to the two of us. He lifted me up from the floor dragging me by my blonde hair making me wince. “Gah! Bellam - no, no, no. I don’t want to!” He pushed my head down on the table beside the radio.

“Clarke, what was that commotion?” My mother questioned through the device causing me to whimper, clutching my eyes tightly shut, hating that I am showing emotions around members of the people I hate.

Clarke came up behind Bellamy who was holding me down with all eyes focused on the three of us. “Bellamy, this is not who we are. This grounder didn’t kidnap Octavia or kill any of our people.”

“That isn’t what this is about. She knows you’re mothers voice and I want to know why.” He barked back at her.

My sister made a confused face. “You think she’s originally from the Ark. How is that even possible?”

“Yo curly haired dude.” I finally spoke, raising my voice to get his attention.

He lowered his head down where our noses could almost touch if either of us moved forward towards the other. “You wanna tell us who you really are now?”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know just not how I know the doctor on the radio.”

Bellamy yanked me upward and pushed me up the ladder then he pushed me down in the corner beside my friend who was beaten badly. “Lincoln…”

“Which one? Which one is it? If you tell us, they'll stop.” My sister begged my friend who was tied to the wall with chains. Bellamy had been repeatedly beating him with a seatbelt strap until she got down on her knees and begged my friend. “Please tell us which is the antidote and they'll stop this.”

Bellamy tossed the strap on the floor turning on his heels grabbing me up to stand. “If that doesn't work, maybe this will.”

“Bellamy, don’t hurt her.” Octavia his sister begged him before he picked up the poisoned knife in his freehand, dragging me directly to stand in front of my friend.

He suddenly made me cut whatever I was about to say short once I felt the cold blade pressed against my neck drawing some blood. “Bellamy, he won’t-“

“You’re friend won’t let you die. He’ll have no choice but to tell us the antidote to save your life and Finn’s.” Bellamy growled in my ear speaking towards my sister in a softer voice. “Clarke, you don't have to be here for this.”

Unfortunately I knew my sister wouldn’t back down from saving someone. She was exactly like our mother. “I'm not leaving until I get that antidote.”

“No more!” Octavia shouted, pushing me out of her brother’s tight grasp before he could cut my throat.

I collapsed against the nearest wall behind me. Pressing my body against it as much as I could not expect her to react in that way for someone she didn’t even know. Holding a hand to the small wound on my neck as best I could manage I didn’t utter another word.

Bellamy raised his voice. “Octavia what the hell are you doing?”

“He won’t let me die.” She muttered looking at Lincoln who nodded his head at the last vial that she had shown him.

Clarke takes the vial from the girl rushing down the ladder. “Thank you.”

Bellamy tried to help his sister up from the floor but she smacked his hand away. He slowly shifted his dark brown eyes over in my direction where I sucked in a breath unsure of what he would attempt to do to me next. He bent himself down on one knee brushing some of my messy hair out of my face. “What are you going to do with me now, sky boy?”

“We’re keeping you both here in our camp. Your friend will be here as leverage and we’ll use you to gather as much information as we can. And I know you’ll do it because if you don’t I’ll start hurting your friend. Do you understand that?”

I gulped nervously before he climbed down the ladder and shut it leaving me upstairs with Lincoln chained to the wall. “I understand, sir.”

[reigningcheesesun]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ RETH x READER

wc: 2983 tags: fem!reader, she/her reader pronouns, reth from palia, canon events (i guess could be spoilery?), finding your shepp, self indulgent writing, not proofread or beta read :D

masterlist

“Find a shepp,” you muttered to yourself with a sigh. It was hard enough trying to navigate this newfound world, let alone trying to find a shepp per Eshe’s request. Since spawning into this place they called Kilima Village, you had been thrown into task after task. How would you ever find the time to build relationships with the villagers if you were always busy? You decided that today you would take a break from being the errand girl for everyone and instead would meet everyone you could find in hopes that you would find someone who would be willing to be your shepp. Up until now, you had only briefly spoken to most of the town, but no one knew you well enough to be your shepp just yet.

As you came into town, you assumed that Ashura would probably have wise words of advice on the fact of the matter. Hurrying along, you walked into the inn to find Ashura at his desk. 

“Hey, Ashura!” you said cheerily as you approached him. The large, gentle giant softly smiled. “Welcome in, y/n! Good to see you today. How are things going for ya?” he asked.

“Honestly? Well, I need some advice. You know this place, and the people, better than anyone, so I was going to see if you have any tips for me on picking a shepp?” 

“A shepp? So that’s what Eshe has you doing, I see. Well, many of the townsfolk would be more than happy to be a shepp- but,” he gave you a look, “asking them to be your own comes with a lot of responsibility on their part. You don’t want just anyone to be your shepp, and it should be someone you feel close to or have a connection with.”

“Responsibility? Eshe didn’t really explain much of all this to me. I thought they just told Eshe ‘Yep, she’s one of us!’ and that was it.”

Ashura chuckled. “In a way, yes, that is what they do. But their job as your shepp doesn’t stop there. They’re responsible for you, so anything you do- whether that’s good or bad- reflects upon them, too. Likewise, anything they do can also affect your own standing in Eshe’s eyes, if you get what I mean.”

“Oh… so we are kinda tied to each other’s social standing?” The wheels in your head began to turn. Who would you choose as your shepp then? It seemed the task wasn’t going to be as easy as you once thought it’d be.

“Yes, at least in the beginning it will be. But once you’re on your feet, most of us will forget who you picked as your shepp and there won’t be a little red string tying you guys together anymore. But don’t just rush into it, you’ve got all the time you need to pick someone who best fits you and your lifestyle. I know you aren’t Majiri like us, but maybe figuring out what path you like can help you narrow down your candidates.”

“Path. That’s right! A lot of you guys have your own path, so maybe I should find one I could call my own as well. Thanks, Ashura! I knew you’d be a big help for sure.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s what I’m here for, of course. Kilima Village has a pretty good variety of those in different paths, there is a path for everyone- from farming, furniture making, to cooking-  you’ll figure it out.” Ashura placed a hand on your shoulder and gave a soft smile before walking past you to go about his day.

There is a path for everyone. Surely someone in this town had a path you could find yourself in, you just had to figure out who it was. As you stood there, racking your brain through the makeshift list of names in your head, you heard the rumbling coming from your stomach. You had been so immersed in your search for finding a shepp today that you forgot to make yourself something to eat. You looked around the inn, seeing the bar open for business.

“What’cha got on the menu today, Reth?” you asked as you put your hands on the counter. The elf playfully contemplated his response, acting as if he was thinking long and hard about it. “Well, I would say my famous lettuce soup, but I’d be willing to whip up something different if you wanted,” he said with a smirk.

“As much as I love your lettuce soup, I don’t think I can have that for breakfast. How about some bacon-stuffed mushrooms? What do I have to do to get some of those on your menu?” you laughed. Reth was someone who was fun to talk to, in your opinion. You knew that the rest of the town had their own opinions about him, but none of it mattered to you. You enjoyed how go with the flow he was and how he always seemed to take each day one at a time.

“You know what, for you, I can make those. Just don’t tell people I make stuff off the menu.” He winked and turned around to start prepping the food. As you watched him chop the ingredients and assemble your meal, you wondered what his thoughts were on paths and choosing a shepp. “Reth, what do you think I should do about finding a shepp? Ashura said I should find someone who’s on a path that I can find myself in, but I don’t even know where to start.”

Reth scoffed to himself. “You sure you want to ask me about paths and shepps? I don’t think I’m really the best one to give you any advice on that, y/n. But if you wanna know how I feel, I think that these paths people take just because their parents do is a little outdated of an idea. I think what Ashura means is finding a path that you like, that you enjoy doing. You lucked out being human, even if you changed your mind, no one is really gon’ say much about it.” His tone changed towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. The Majiri don’t seem too understanding if you change paths… but I’m sure you know it all too well, but I’m glad you’re doing something you like.”

“Me too, this stuff is way more fun than getting splinters all day and hammering away on furniture,” he said as he put the plate of bacon-stuffed mushrooms in front of you. The food looked immaculate, you could tell it was made by someone who truly loved what they were doing.

Hey, Reth,” you said quietly as you started to cut the food into pieces. Reth turned around and wiped his hands on his apron. “Yeah? What’s up? It’s not good? Don’t tell me that, just lie to me,” he snickered.

“No, no. It’s not the food, this is good, great even,” you said as you finished a bite. “Do you think, maybe, you would be my shepp?”

Reth looked astounded by the question. “What?! ME ?! Y/N, I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself as a shepp. Maybe if I knew you better, but even then, you sure you want me to be that person? I don’t really have the best reputation in the village.”

You pushed the food around on the plate, almost feeling stupid for even thinking he’d agree to something so serious. It wasn’t like Reth to be tied to anything, let alone a new person in the village who was asking a lot of him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. You’re probably right,” you said quietly.

Reth leaned on the counter and met your eye level. “Look, if it comes down to it and you still don’t have someone, then I’ll do it. But there’s gotta be someone way better out there for your decision than this guy. But I will do it if no one else will-”

“Really?!” you exclaimed, cutting him off. Reth put up his index finger. “Yeah, but on one condition,” he chuckled. “You just have to promise to keep coming into the inn and having breakfast, lunch, and dinner here for a while before I really agree to it. I gotta know the person I’m shepping for before saying yes for real, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You know what, Reth. I think I can do that, but only if you promise me you won’t make me lettuce soup every time I come in.” Reth laughed heartily at your response and nodded his head in approval. “Fine, you got a deal.” He made his way to the other side of the counter to take someone else’s order and began prepping their food for them. 

It was hard not to watch in awe as he prepared the orders he had coming in. He was meticulous with his cuts and attentive to all timers in the kitchen, basically ready to take stuff out before the timers could even go off. It was like watching an artist paint a masterpiece as he plated the food and garnished it before passing it across the counter. As you continued to watch, you admired how much fun it looked like he had cooking. Finally, you finished your food.

“Reth,” you called to him as you placed your coins on the counter. “For the food.” You got off the seat and waved goodbye. “See ya later, Y/N! I’ll be here all day,” he laughed as he waved back. You left the inn in a better state than you came in, at least you knew that if all else failed with the rest of the town, Reth had promised to be your shepp.

ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

The coming weeks didn’t bring any result in picking a shepp. Everyone was either too busy to commit to it or didn’t feel right with your relationship being so new with them. You walked into the inn and sat at the bar, laying your head in your arms and letting out a long sigh.

“Hey, hey, hey. This is a ‘no-sad-human-zone’, you can’t do that here,” Reth said as he leaned on the counter in front of you, resting his head in his palm. “Ughhh,” you groaned dramatically. “Wow, that bad, huh? I bet I know what will fix it.” He snapped his finger and walked into the back of the bar where the pantry and other cooking supplies were at. A few moments later, you could feel him put down a plate of food on the counter beside you. “This one’s on the house,” he said as you raised your head up to look at what he brought out. It was a fresh bowl of ramen, complete with boiled eggs and green onions on top. Reth leaned over and whispered to you. “Just don’t tell anyone I let you have it for free, okay?” He winked and grabbed a cleaning rag to start wiping off the counter.

You appreciated the sentiment, especially coming from Reth since you two were starting to grow a little closer after all the visits you had promised to make to the inn. “Reth, what do you do outside of this place?” Reth paused for a moment, a little confused by the question. “You mean like once I leave work? Uh… I do…. stuff, I guess.” His tone implied he wasn’t really trying to answer the question, but you couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Well, are you going somewhere when you’re done today?” you asked, not really sure where you were going with the series of questions.

“I have a few things I have to do later tonight, but nothing right after we close up here. Why? You tryin' to ask me to hangout?” He chuckled and kept wiping the counter. 

“Actually, yeah. Do you want to?” You were still unsure yourself what was even going on, but the conversation just seemed to flow naturally. You did want to know more about Reth after all this time, and he did say he needed to know you more before officially agreeing to be your shepp. Short conversations over a meal while he worked weren’t really the best way for you two to get to know each other.

“Oh, uh,” Reth said, scratching the back of his head and smiling. “I didn’t expect you to actually say that was the plan. But ya know what, I think we can do that. Why don’t you come back later at say, 6pm? I’ll be finishing up here and we can go somewhere then. How’s that sound?”

“Sure, that sounds good. Thanks, Reth.” You started to eat your food as you noticed Reth checking the clock on the wall. “I’ll be right back, I have to.. Get a few things from the storeroom.” Reth scurried off out of the bar and rushed down the stairs to the basement area. After a few minutes, you felt a large hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Ashura standing beside you, he looked like he needed something.

“Have you seen Reth? I got a few things I need to talk to that boy about, but he’s always in and out doing things,” he said.

“He just had to go to the storeroom for something, but when he gets back I can let him know that you need him?” You gave a shrug as you suggested.

“Yeah, that’ll work. Thanks, Y/N. I have to head out to the garden, but he should know where to find me.” He gave a sincere smile and left the inn. You looked up at the clock. Reth had been gone for at least 10 minutes. What on earth does he have to even get down there? And what about his job? Luckily, the bar wasn’t full of people waiting on him, but what if it was? He would be in high water with Ashura come the end of the day, and you definitely didn’t want to see if that sweet man was capable of bringing down the hammer.

You glanced around the bar; it didn’t look like anyone was coming to get food anytime soon so you decided to go downstairs to see if Reth needed help with whatever it was he was getting. You got up from the bar and made your way down the steps of the inn. It was your first time down there, but the store room was just across the room past the little boat docks under the inn. As you grabbed the door handle, you felt it turn and pull open as Reth left the storeroom. “Oh! Uh.. Y/N, what are you doing down here?” he asked nervously.

“Well, you were gone for so long, I thought maybe you needed some help or something. And plus, Ashura said he was looking for you.” Reth let out a groan. “Yeah, I forgot I have some errands I have to run tonight for him. He’s probably just reminding me.” He let out a soft sigh under his breath. “We may have to reschedule our little hangout tonight, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine…,” you said. The two of you sat awkwardly in silence for a moment before you broke it. “Maybe I can help you with some of the errands so you get done early?” Reth’s face lit up at the offer. “Hey! That just might work.” He snapped his fingers. “How about you do a few of the deliveries and pick up some things, and I’ll take care of the rest? I promise the deliveries aren’t that bad, just a handful of things to take and pick up.”

His bright smile made you smile as well. “Sure, you just tell me where to go.” Reth pulled out his order pad and wrote down the people to deliver to and who to pick up ingredients from. “There, that should be it. Eshe’s stuff’s all done, just upstairs in the back fridge. You’d be a real lifesaver doing this for me.”

You took the list and walked back upstairs with Reth. He led you into the back kitchen area and got the delivery package out of the fridge and handed it to you. “Careful with it, it’s a luxury to deliver this special dinner of mine to Eshe. Gotta deliver it safely or it’s both our hides that’ll be skinned,” he chuckled. “And just let the others know you’re picking up for me, they should have the stuff ready for you. Thanks again.” He bashfully smiled, something you hadn’t really seen before, but it was endearing. “No problem, I’ll be back before long,” you said before you left the inn.

Eshe’s delivery was your first priority, so you made your way across the bridge down from the stables and found her waiting, impatiently to no surprise. “Hey, Eshe! Have something for you,” you said as you pulled the package out and offered it to her. You watched Eshe look at the package and then back up at you before taking it. “So Reth has you doing his job for him? Hmph, seems fitting. This better be what I’ve been waiting for, not like that awful lettuce soup he pushes every time you order at the inn.”

“He doesn’t have me doing them, I offered to just help him out. I’m sure the food he made is well up to par; he really puts in a lot of work into his food, ya know,” you said assuredly. Eshe scoffed at your reply and tucked the package under her arm. “For his sake, I hope it is. If not, he will surely hear about it.” She walked off towards her house and left you standing there alone.

“These people really feel some type of way about him, don’t they?” you mumbled to yourself. 

2024 ©️ reigningcheesesun. please do not copy, translate, and/or distribute my work. divider.

[wannab-urs]

WIP Wednesday

Doing my own thing with WIP Wednesday this week and combining a couple typical tag games.

Step one: Post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet)

Loser, Baby - Dieter x Frankie

“Frankie, man, I just feel like such a fucking loser. I cannot get my shit together,” Dieter whines into the phone. He drums his fingers on the table top in front of him, contemplating ordering another whiskey.  “News flash, Dee. You are a loser,” Frankie’s reply crackles through the speaker. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” “You’re calling me from a bar. You are literally addicted to cocaine, smoke too much weed, and rarely go more than 24 hours without getting piss drunk. What do you want me to say?” “I don’t know, man.” Dieter trails off. He drains the last few ice cubes in the tumbler. “Reassure me? Make me feel better? You’re my fucking sponsor.” “We’re both losers, Dee. We met in NA for fucks sake, it’s not like I’ve always had my shit together.”  “Will you come get me?” Dieter’s voice is pathetically whiny. He feels stupid for even needing to call, and now he’s asking for this.  “Course. Give me 15. Don’t order another drink.” The line goes dead and Dieter saunters up to the bar to order another and wait for Frankie. 

Din/Ez Mandalorian rewrite (to be titled later)

(this would be the end of episode/chapter 1) “Well. They said 40 years old.” “This does look to be our target,” the droid quips.  IG raises his blaster as if to shoot the sleeping man.   “No. We'll bring him in alive.” “The commission was quite specific. The asset was to be terminated.” He raises his blaster again, but Din is faster. Before the IG unit can even register his movement, there’s a hole in its head.  The bounty is sleeping on the floor, a pile of ragged blankets serving as a bed. He’s missing an arm, the stump wrapped in dirty bandages. Din toes him with his boot, keeping his blaster trained on him. The man doesn’t wake up. Din kicks him a bit harder and he still doesn’t stir. He picks the man up and heaves him over his shoulders. He carries him out to the blurg Kuill let him keep and ties him to its back like a saddlebag.  It’s a long walk back to the ship.

Step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on

Step three: Every vote is one minute you put on a timer to work on that fic (ex. 15 votes = 15 minutes of writing)

Additionally, if you want to pick my brain about either one, I have a decent bit of lore planned out. Feel free to shoot me an ask or drop a comment <3

Tags: @chronically-ghosted @sp00kymulderr @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @burntheedges @beskarandblasters @pedgito @covetyou @jupiter-soups @toxic-seduction @futuraa-free @nerdieforpedro @kennysbellbottoms @valoxwayward @qveerthe0ry @rhoorl @party-hearses @rebel-held @dancingtotuyo @sin-djarin @littlegrungegirlaf @perotovar @javierpenaispunk @magpiepills @whatsnewalycat @schnarfer @heareball @always-andromeda @bitchwitch1981 @mothandpidgeon @all-the-way-down-here

[hannibard]

"I'm choking from the taste (but I can't help but swallow)"

Chapter 6: Soul Contract

Summary: The deal is done and Jaskier copes with the aftermath.

Click here to find on ao3

(Please check the tags before reading)

“You can’t possibly be serious Your Majesty-- this trade is in no way equal!” Dijkstra yelled in disagreement, standing up abruptly and slamming his hands on the table.

Radovid shot him a warning look, displeased by his outburst. Tensions between the king and his advisors still ran high. They only recently started working towards some sort of reconciliation for the sake of the kingdom, and the balance was still too fragile for the Spymaster to make such a big show of defiance against the king, but he couldn’t help it.

Dijkstra took a deep breath to get his emotions in check and sat back down. “I understand how important this… gentleman is to your Majesty, but I merely worry a decision like that would put Redania in huge disadvantage.”

Radovid sighed and scratched his chin. “I can tell why you’d see it that way Dijkstra, but think about it.” He came to stand behind Jaskier and placed his hands on the bard’s shoulders. “Julian here is one of the White Wolf’s dearest friends! From his point of view, Julian came here to be with me of his own free will because we’re madly in love. Surely he wouldn’t carelessly put his friend in danger by attacking us.” He tightened his grip and Jaskier winced as the king’s nails dug into his skin. “Especially if said friend is tied to me.”

He let go and went back to his seat behind the desk. “Besides, the White Wolf isn’t just conquering kingdoms for the fun of it. He’s only doing it to the ones he deems unsafe towards non-humans. If we try to limit the discrimination against them and give them equal rights he should have no reason to show hostility.”

Dijkstra was silent for a moment, considering. “…Do you think we can make all these changes before the White Wolf comes knocking on our door? The sentiment against the elder races is deeply rooted in this kingdom. People aren’t going to change their ways easily.”

Radovid scoffed. “That’s what laws are for dear. We may not be able to make a difference right away, but we have to show we’re trying. That alone will be enough- especially if Julian vouches for us.”

Philippa looked at her nails nonchalantly. “And to ensure Julian’s cooperation, a soul contract will be needed.” She said and turned to Dijkstra. “I’ve got the perfect spell for it too. Our king gets to keep his boytoy forever tied to him and Redania stays safe as a result. It’s a win-win situation.”

The Spymaster frowned in contemplation before relenting. “Fine. But we must get this over with as quickly as possible.”

The king nodded in agreement and all three of them turned to look down at the still kneeling bard. Jaskier flinched at the sudden attention after his presence was mostly ignored for the majority of the conversation. He gulped and avoided their gazes. This was really happening.

The king’s quarters were chosen as the best place for the binding ceremony to take place, being in the safest part of the palace and away from prying eyes. Jaskier and Radovid were left there alone for a moment while the sorceress went to gather the necessary items, and the king spent this time reading through documents as if it was any other day, but the smile on his face betrayed his good mood.

He glanced up at the bard, who was sitting motionless on the bed, staring off blankly into the distance with his head hung low. Radovid rolled his eyes and abandoned the documents to come sit next to the other man, taking the bard’s hand in his own. When that still didn’t snap Jaskier out of his trance, he tagged at it harshly.

Jaskier blinked a few times and turned to look at Radovid, whose gaze softened when he saw the haunted look in the other’s glassy eyes. The king raised his free hand to gently stroke Jaskier’s cheek- as if the bard was made of crystal, fragile. As if Radovid hadn’t spent the past nine months trying his hardest to break him in every way possible. He seemed to have mellowed out now that he knew for sure he’d won.

“Why the long face love? We’re gonna be together forever- this is cause for celebration!” He leaned in to kiss the bard’s cheek and giggled. “Almost like a wedding don’t you think?”

Jaskier couldn’t tell if the king was saying this to mock him or because he genuinely believed it. Nonetheless, he chose not to respond, too lost in his own thoughts to care. Ever since he’d arrived in Tretogor he’d tried so so hard to keep it together. To stay positive. To find joy in the little things. Would that even be possible after this spell was done? How binding would it even be? He wished he’d asked for more details beforehand, though his questions would have probably gone unanswered anyways.

The king was starting to get annoyed by Jaskier’s silence, but he didn’t get to do anything about it since that was the moment Philippa chose to appear inside the room, through a portal that created a light breeze before it vanished.

With a flick of her fingers, various furniture started to move away to create space in the middle of the room. She used chalk to draw a magic circle on the floor before beckoning the other two closer and making them stand in front of each other at opposite sides of the circle.

The bard watched her place candles, crystals, feathers and animal bones at what seemed like specific spots inside the circle, before entering it herself and standing in the middle, arms reaching out.

“Take my hands, both of you.” She said calmly. After they’d both obeyed, she scrunched her face in concentration and started reciting words in Elder. The air in the room started swirling around them, blowing the candles out and leaving the three in complete darkness. The magic circle started to glow red.

The red light gathered in the middle of the circle and climbed onto the sorceress, who closed her eyes and tightened her grip on Jaskier and Radovid’s hands, causing the magic to course through them. It felt like static was making its way all throughout the bard’s body, getting more and more painful as time went on. He bit his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood in order to stop himself from screaming.

Finally, the sorceress stopped chanting and exited the circle, though the magic continued unperturbed. She brought the men closer to each other, pulling them inside the circle, and let go, making them hold each other’s hands instead of hers. She took Radovid’s free hand and placed his palm on Jaskier’s chest, right above Jaskier’s wildly beating heart. The sorceress looked exhausted, but she kept her chin held high.

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove and King Radovid V of Redania both consent to the following: The latter will have ownership of the former’s soul in return for promising not to engage in war with the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. Julian’s life will be tied to Radovid’s and if the latter one dies, so will the former. If the White Wolf attacks Redania first, Julian will lose his life since his part of the deal will be broken.”

Suddenly, an excruciating pain started radiating from Jaskier’s heart. It felt like it was being squeezed and the skin over it started to burn as if something was being carved on it. This time the bard wasn’t able to muffle his screams and they echoed loudly throughout the room. This moment felt like it lasted hours but it was probably just a few seconds because it ended just as suddenly as it started.

Jaskier immediately fell to the floor, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. He sat there for a moment to rest, dry heaving.

“So it’s done?” Radovid asked, looking a lot better than the bard. He was staring down at his palm in curiosity. “Yes, it’s done.” Answered Philippa hoarsely, who was also trying to catch her breath.

The king’s gaze snapped to Jaskier as a sinister smile creeped on his face. He closed his fist and manifested a glowing red chain that extended until it attached itself to a matching red collar that appeared on Jaskier’s neck. He tugged harshly, forcing he bard closer to him.

“W-what is that?” Jaskier asked, horrified. The sorceress chuckled. “Just a little something to keep you in check. Its radius extends all the way to the outskirts of Tretogor but you won’t be able to go farther than that unless the king is accompanying you, and he can bring you back to him whenever he pleases.”

Radovid looked very pleased by this add-on, and he made sure to let Philippa know. The two started talking about her compensation as they made their way outside the room. Jaskier chose to stay behind as he struggled to come to terms with what had just transpired. When his raging mind showed no sign of calming down after a while, he decided it’d be a good idea to go get piss drunk instead, but before he went looking for alcohol, he stopped in front of a large ornate mirror and pulled his shirt up.

There, right over his heart, was something akin to a tattoo- made of scar tissue instead of ink- depicting a crowned eagle holding a scepter and what seemed like a banner with a cross on its chest.

Redania’s coat of arms.

...

Life moving forward was much the same as it was previously but with one notable difference.

Since it was now physically impossible for Jaskier to escape, he was finally allowed to leave the palace premises. The first time he stepped outside he almost wept with joy, but the direness of the situation prevented him from shedding any actual tears.

Being outside was intoxicating. The direct sunlight was almost blinding to his eyes, and Jaskier’s skin tingled with warmth on the places it touched. Other than the sun, the weather was less than ideal, what with winter being right around the corner. The greenery had mostly withered already, and a small fog was created whenever Jaskier exhaled, but none of it mattered. If anything, the cold air that entered his lungs was refreshing.

Autumn used to be Jaskier’s least favorite season, because whenever the temperatures started dropping, it signified the end of yet another year on the Path, which meant the time for him and Geralt to part ways was also coming near- unless it was one of the rare occasions Jaskier accompanied the witcher to Kaer Morhen. Somehow, the anticipation of their parting was worse than the months that followed which they spent apart. Out of sight out of mind as they say.

Now that none of the above were any of Jaskier’s concern anymore, he was able to at least partly appreciate the season for the first time in years.

He hadn’t spent as much time in Tretogor as other Redanian cities, like Oxenfurt or Novigrad, but he still remembered the way to a few places, though it was mostly inns and brothels.

Seeing as sex was something he was currently far from lacking, for better or for worse, he decided to stick to the inns instead. The one he used to frequent most in the past was called ‘The Merry Maiden’, and so it was the first place he chose to visit. The man who owned it was thankfully the same as before, and he recognized Jaskier instantly.

“Well well well, if it ain’t the famous Jaskier! We’ve been waiting for ya to show your face ‘round here ever since we learned ya’ve been staying in these parts. I started ta think ya’d forsaken us common folk since ya never left the palace.” Piotr, the innkeeper, said when he spotted Jaskier.

“What nonsense my friend! I’ve just been really busy; the king has been throwing banquets almost daily if you can believe it.” Jaskier said with a strained laugh, taking a seat across the bar. Piotr immediately placed a tankard of ale in front of him. “Good ta know. I see ya’ve yer lute with you, ya plannin’ on playin’ tonight?”

Jaskier downed the ale in one long gulp and wiped his face with the back of his hand before turning to look at Piotr with an expression of mock offence. “But of course! It’d be an insult to my name and my bardic integrity if I didn’t!”

The innkeeper chuckled. “Then get ta it lad! Business has been shite lately, if ya do yer magic I’ll let ya have dinner on the house.”

The bard all but jumped off his seat in excitement. “No need to tell me twice old pal!” He said and took to the stage, elated at the chance to play for his preferred audience for once instead of the Redanian high society that saw him as barely more than a toy at best or a piece of meat at worst.

The tears he couldn’t shed before threatened to come out as he sung the bawdiest songs in his set list and his fingers trembled as they plucked the strings of the lute, though he managed to at least keep his voice steady thanks to all his past training. This was the closest Jaskier had felt to happiness in months, and he wished this moment could last forever.

What a useless thought to have, he thought bitterly. The performance went great regardless, and the crowd that gathered to watch him made sure his tankard was never empty for long.

After his set ended, most of the patrons got up to leave, but Jaskier stayed behind to flirt with Piot’s daughter, Anna, as she cleaned up around the place. Things between them were starting to heat up when the bard felt a tug at his neck that made him yelp. He looked down to see the collar from before, whose chain stretched across the room and disappeared into the wall. Jaskier turned to look at Anna in alarm, an excuse ready at the tip of his tongue, but her eyes hadn’t left his face.

“Is something wrong?” She asked in confusion.

Oh, Jaskier sighed in relief, she can’t see it, thank fuck.

“Nothing’s wrong my lady, but it is getting rather late. You should probably finish up and go to bed before Piotr catches us.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t protest. “Fine. Don’t be a stranger ok?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Jaskier said and kissed her hand, making her blush and giggle.

His smile dropped when she disappeared from his vision. The bard wasn’t ready to return to reality yet, but he didn’t have choice. He was barely out the door when the tugging started again. He stumbled several times as the chain dragged him across town, all the way to the palace, and he was out of breath when he finally made it inside.

Radovid was waiting for him in his room while lounging on the bard’s bed in his nightclothes. The king frowned when he took in Jaskier’s disheveled appearance and clicked his tongue. “Your little outing went well I presume?”

Jaskier closed the door but stayed frozen at the entrance. “Y-yes your majesty, I am deeply grateful for this opportunity.” The king stood up and sauntered towards him, closing the distance. “I see.” He said and started unbuttoning Jaskier’s doublet, making the bard shudder, and not in a good way.

The king leaned close to whisper in his ear while his hands continued working on the buttons. “I’m glad you had fun darling, but I have to admit I missed you terribly.” He grabbed Jaskier’s nape and squeezed harshly. “If you were as grateful as you say, you wouldn’t have made me wait this long. Don't let it happen again.”

The only thing Jaskier could do in response was nod.

...

Being able to go out was a nice bonus but it didn’t take long for it to lose its appeal since Jaskier’s hellish life in the palace continued on without respite. The bard’s “workload” increased more and more as time passed, and when the nobles started realizing Jaskier wouldn’t say no even to their most depraved desires, they took full advantage.

Asphyxiation was one of the tamest kinks he was forced to engage in, but one night early on, a particularly eager baron took it too far.

Jaskier was laying underneath the man on all fours as the other pounded into him. A piece of silk ribbon was tied around the bard’s neck, and the baron took great pleasure in cutting off Jaskier’s airways by pulling at the ends until he went dizzy, at which point the nobleman loosened his hold to allow the bard to breath once more.

This pattern continued until Jaskier could feel the baron getting closer to his climax. He cheered internally, already imagining the hot bath he was going to take once this was over, but when the nobleman gave one last tug to accompany his release, he didn’t let go. It was awfully reminiscent of the time Radovid stopped playing nice, and this only served to make the bard’s panic even worse.

Jaskier struggled to hold himself up with one arm as he used his other hand to claw at the ribbon on his neck, but it was no use. The baron was too far gone in his post-orgasmic bliss, and when he finally noticed what was happening, Jaskier had already gone limp

When the bard woke up again he was in the infirmary and one full day had passed. The healer ran to inform the king of his return to consciousness, so Jaskier had a short moment alone to gather his bearings.

I almost died.

It was a thought that by all accounts should have terrified him, but the only thing he felt was regret. Regret that the baron didn’t finish the job. Regret that he survived. Jaskier had never been a suicidal person, but recently he’d started toying with such thoughts more and more.

The bard had many qualities, positive and negative alike, like his outgoing nature for example, or his flair for the dramatic. But his most unique quality was his ability to feel things much more intensely than other people. It was a gift and a curse all at once, because while it helped him form deep, meaningful connections and become an outstanding artist through his ability to impart a piece of his soul in everything he created, it also greatly amplified all his negative emotions as well, sadness being one of the strongest amongst them.

Jaskier was someone that wore his heart on his sleeve, and even though it had been trampled on time and time again, he couldn’t make himself stop. Even now that he was experiencing the absolute worst time of his life, he wasn’t able to numb his pain by disassociating, no matter how hard he tried. He was mentally present for every torturous second, and he felt Everything, even when drunk out of his mind.

After taking all of the above into account, who could fault him for considering death as a possible solution to his predicament? But despite how much he’d love to escape this eternal torment by ending it all, he knew it was impossible, not if he wanted to maintain his and Radovid’s deal and keep Geralt safe. So he went with the next best thing.

Jaskier was first exposed to fisstech on one of his rare outings. He had found himself back at ‘The Merry Maiden’, only this time he wasn’t at the bar, but at Anna’s bedroom, doing a whole different kind of performance.

The were laying on her bed facing each other after the second round, both sweaty and breathing heavily, when Anna sat up and reached over the bard, taking out a small pouch filled with white powder from the nightstand drawer.

She gave Jaskier a cheeky grin before pushing him to lie on his back, and poured some of the powder on his chest, arranging it in three neat lines using his tuning fork necklace, before leaning down to snort one of them. She gave a contented sigh and fell back into the pillows.

“Oh fuck yeah.” She laughed. “Feel free to have a taste handsome, there’s more where it came from.”

Jaskier considered her offer. There had been many opportunities for him to give fisstech a try throughout his life, especially while he was a student at Oxenfurt Academy, but one of the most common side effects was damage to the respiratory system, and that would be catastrophic for a bard, so Jaskier always resisted the temptation.

But now he was at a point in his life where he had run out of fucks to give.

The bard swiped at one of the lines with his index finger, gathering some of the powder, and then opened his mouth to rub it on his gums as he’d seen others do. Right away, he could feel his brain getting foggy and his muscles relaxing, all his troubles melting away. He let out a groan of satisfaction and stared up at the ceiling with a loopy smile. How had he not considered drugs before? It was exactly what he needed, the perfect cure to help him escape his horrid reality.

Before going back to the palace, Jaskier traded all his measly earnings (gone were the days of luxury) for all the fisstech Anna had left, after ensuring from her a steady supply in preparation for the future.

That night, as some aristocrats used and abused him like usual, Jaskier was able to lay back and accept it easily from his vantage point up in the clouds, sheltered inside the safety of his own mind. No more buzzing thoughts or internal screams of pain.

Blessed silence at last.

[beardedjoel]

wip wednesday!

thank you for the tags bbs! @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beskarandblasters @cavillscurls @dancingtotuyo

Step one: post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet)

Step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on, then prioritize the one with the most votes.

Step three: ask me about my wips! i have more than just these three but they are the main ones i'm focused on right now!

snippets under the cut!

dbf sugar daddy!joel x f!reader

Joel gives you an understanding look. “I do, I get it, sweetheart. If you want me to want somethin’ out of it, if that’d make you feel better about takin’ the money, then why don’t y’come spend some time with me. Let me take you out, or jus’ come by for a nice dinner, me ‘n you. Get to know each other a little, keep an old man company, hm?” You roll your eyes with a breathy chuckle pushing out of you. “Really trying to play the sympathy card calling yourself old, I see,” you say, quirking a brow. “But uh, I… could do that… if that’s all you want.” Joel’s gears are turning, and you see a flash of recognition across his face as it falls a little. He leans forward, propping his forearms on the desk, his brows knit tight and eyes flashing while they watch you. “D’you think I expect you to fuck me?”

smother part viii (dark!joel x f!reader)

He turns around, holding a new piece of leather, looking similar to what you already have around your neck, but it’s much longer and the reality sinks in, remembering the chain that you’d discovered in the front closet. You wince quietly, praying Joel couldn’t hear the depraved little noise, and feel your thighs tense and tighten a little, completely unable to understand why. Joel’s lips turn to a small smirk, satisfied when he sees you squirm a little while he approaches. “My little sugar likes the look of this, don’t she?” he rumbles out, leaning forward along the edge of the bed closest to you, just enough to brush his nose along yours, lips tempting you before pulling away. He slides the leather through his hands, a contemplative look on his face. “Say ‘yes daddy’,” Joel says, folding the leather and snapping it absentmindedly. He leans towards you, a finger hooking in the o-ring of your collar, barely tugging, but enough that the back of the collar pulls tighter against your neck, making your breath hitch at the sudden change.

pretty little wife chapter 3.5 (husband!joel x f!reader)

summary: a few months after your original rendezvous with your husband and his brother tommy, tommy is still single and more down about it than ever with his birthday coming up. joel decides to give him an early birthday present: you tied up in the closet, and another night promised to do anything he wants to you. well, almost anything.

tagging anyone who wants to do this today that hasn't cause i'm kinda late in the day!!! and feeling lazy hehe

[hazardworld]

Part 2 of Monster Town. Part 1

------

30 minutes later, Steve was snacking on another fish, watching Dustin pace as he angrily ranted in front of Robin and Eddie, who had tagged along purely because Robin needed a ride and Dustin wasn’t letting Steve "escape," even after Steve reassured him he wouldn’t try anything.

He would’ve tried something.

He wasn’t their problem to deal with.

"So you’re telling me not only has Steve kept his monster status from me, his bff for life, but he’s also risked his life because of his shitty parents telling him to restrict being himself?" Robin gave him a pointed glare as Dustin confirmed, whereas Eddie just raised an eyebrow, purple eyes laced with befuddlement.

"Guys, look, it’s not your problem! My parents are shitty, sure, but this isn’t an issue any of you should deal with, especially you, Eddie."

"Bullshit, Harrington." Steve’s brow furrowed as Eddie rubbed the side of his face, exasperated, with a small smile. "You and your stupid fucking martyr complex, wasn’t it you who told me I was part of the Party now, anyway—"

"And when one party member requires assistance, it is up to the other members of the party to provide that assistance!" Eddie raised his hand towards Dustin as if to say, 'exactly, you shithead,'

"See? You listened to my problems, now I’ll help you with yours, deal?" Steve nodded slowly, hugging his arms to his chest and looking away from the rest of the group. That didn’t last long though, as he was being yanked up by Dustin, and soon, pushed by Robin and Eddie, to where he quickly realized the pool was.

"Guys I literally just got dry—"

"Shut it Steve, I’m seeing your fish form, even if I have to possess you to get in there myself!" Steve let out a puff of air. It wasn’t like he was resisting, honestly, so before he got close enough where Dustin would fling him in, he spun himself to the side, making his friends all crash into the pool themselves.

Whoops.

So sad.

"STEVE!" Dustin’s voice was the first one he heard, angry, sure, but not in danger (poodles can swim, right?). He sighed, smiling lightly at his younger brother and best friends’ pissed faces. Robin shot him the finger, and he returned it right back.

"Fuc—St’ve!" And then there was Eddie, sputtering and splashing, and immediately, Steve went into panic mode, diving in and keeping the man up above the surface as he caught his breath.

"Eds, you ok?" Eddie nodded, coughing out water.

"Yeah, shit, I uh—" Eddie froze, eyes widened, staring at the pool floor. Steve raised an eyebrow, was there a bug, a spider or something? He looked down, and immediately realized Eddie’s distress: Steve’s tail had wrapped itself snugly around Eddie’s ankles, keeping Eddie afloat, but also 100% tied down.

Also, not to mention it was Steve’s tail, which was weird, because usually he had to contemplate the change before he made it, but this time he’d dove in and gone full form without even thinking.

And also, it was Steve’s tail.

On Eddie’s skin.

Fuck.

He started to loosen it, drifting away, but Eddie quickly put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"No, no, it’s keeping me upright, keep it there, just…" Eddie bit his lip and looked away, Steve pretending not to notice the red blooming his cheeks, "you’re real pretty like this, Harrington. No wonder the girls find you so irresistible." Eddie finished off with his signature cocky smirk.

"Found, Munson. Stopped using sirenspeak after Hellkins round 1," Steve watched as not only Eddie, but Dustin and Robin’s eyes all widened.

"Holy shit, that’s why all your romance tips were such bull! Because you’ve never actually tried to swoon someone!" Steve sputtered and crossed his arms indignantly.

"Of—Of course I’ve tried to swoon someone, Henderson! I’ll have you know, I only used sirenspeak to get Nancy to notice me, not make her fall in love with me. That I did by hand. Besides, in a romantic context, it’s really only good for one-time things, the whole premise being to kill the person after, so…" He gave a weak smile, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, you’re too sweet to kill people, Steve," Robin smirked, and Steve stuck his tongue out and gave her a little splash. She phased it out while putting up two middle fingers, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. It’s also against the law, Rob, in case you were wondering." Robin laughed lightly as she flew herself up out of the pool, grabbing Steve’s towel from earlier. Dustin quickly followed up the pool steps and shook himself off, which left Eddie, who was still bonded to Steve by his ankles.

"So how is this gonna work, Stevie?" Steve smirked.

"I’ve got an idea," He laid his upper body back onto the surface of the water, and gently moved Eddie up and back until he hit the edge of the pool. "Let me know when the lip is on your kneecaps." Steve moved Eddie up and down until he was given an indication, and Eddie took the obvious hint to sit, and Steve finally unwrapped himself. He then moved himself next to Eddie, and crossed his arms over the edge, plopping his head on top.

"So, you never learned how to swim, eh Munson?" Eddie rolled his eyes, blushing in embarrassment. He crossed his own arms and kicked the water in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah. We didn’t have a local pool close enough for me to walk to in Indy, and by the time I got here it was kinda too old for someone to be using a floaty for reasons other than relaxing." Steve nodded.

"Fair, fair. I feel like it’s pretty useless If I try, but if you wanted, one of the other party members could come teach you here? I promise all the insults you get will be in good company." Eddie chuckled.

"So sure I’m that bad already, Stevie?" Steve felt his cheeks heat up the the nickname.

"No, but you’ve met Erica. That girl will take every excuse to tell you what you’re doing wrong." Eddie laughed. Steve decided he loved Eddie’s laugh.

"Damn straight, man." Eddie pooled some magic into a glowing purple ball, and tossed it in his hand. "That girl is a fucking powerhouse," The two sat in silence for a minute, and Steve turned his attention on the house, to where Dustin and Robin had both disappeared.

"You know," Eddie spoke up, and Steve immediately turned to him. His magic ball rested in his hand now, not being tossed. "I wasn’t lying when I said you looked real pretty like this, Harrington." He looked Steve up and down, and Steve gulped.

"Really?"

Eddie frowned, tossing the ball once before it disappeared into his hand, the magic returning to its source.

"Aren’t you supposed to be? Catching the attention of humans to devour and what not?"  Steve chuckled and shook his head.

"No, dude. I had to explain this all to Dustin before you got here, but like, sirens aren’t entirely meant to look pretty, we’re meant to kill. Mermaids are the pretty ones." Eddie hummed, his frown forming into a smile showing off his own fangs, glinting in the sun.

"Well you look plenty pretty to me, Stevie." Eddie leaned over and ruffled his hair, making Steve’s face grow hot. Before he could respond, however, the sliding door opened up to a sauntering Dustin and Robin.

"We have a way to try and get you to a natural form, Steve!" Dustin’s voice boomed across the pool deck. "Monsters who shift forms like you and me usually shift out of fear!" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Dustin, you and I both know that’s not tr—" Dustin grinned.

"Just get on out of the pool, Steve!" Steve groaned, shifting back to his bipedal form as he climbed up and out next to Eddie, who stood as Steve’s more aquatic features faded away. Steve noted his second set of fangs stayed, as if they had already gotten used to themselves being there in the two times he’d moved them there that day.

Suddenly, Robin disappeared, and within minutes, Steve was tossed and tugged around blindly. Ahh, so Robin was trying to spook him into shifting? Two could play at that game.

He felt the magic rush into his throat as he started to sing to her. He was only singing for friendship, not romance, since romance wouldn’t’ve worked on her. As the notes kept coming out, the forces gripping his arms started to loosen and still as Robin slowly took her corporeal form again, enamored with his voice.

He swayed along to the song a bit as he willed Robin to dance with him, and they did for a few seconds before he stopped and booped her forehead with a finger. He felt the magic drain back down to wherever a siren’s magic resided, and Robin groaned and rubbed her head. Steve looked around to find Dustin and Eddie gaping.

"Did you—Did you just—" Steve laughed lightly.

"Yeah, Dust, I just used sirenspeak. But in my defense, as the person who taught you to form shift, fear is never the best way to shift! I know what I’m doing, Henderson." Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Says the person who didn’t even know they were binding their form, Steve!" Steve passed Dustin the finger, and he stuck out his tongue.

"I feel…like I got hit by a bus. Did I survive?" Robin grunted out, pressing two fingers into the gap between her eyebrows.

"You did, Robin," Robin groaned disappointedly as Steve turned his attention to Eddie. "Eddie, I have some of your pain potion things in my bathroom. Think you could help Robin?" Eddie nodded once, and ushered Robin back inside with calm whispers.

"So what are you gonna do, Steve? Figure it out yourself? Because I don’t think that’s been working out for as of late." Dustin panned his hand from Steve’s head to his feet, frowning.

"It’ll work just fine now that I know what’s wrong!" Steve snapped back.

"You’ve been binding for so long you might not know how to get it out on your own!"

"I think I can do things without a idiot 15-year-old nerd trying to baby me every step of the way!"

Oooh, too far. Even though he tried not to show it, Dustin’s ears flattened against his skull and his tail tucked tight between his legs. Steve sighed.

"Sorry, pup. That went too far." Dustin perked back up, though cautious.

"No, no you’re right. Sometimes I forget that not everyone needs my help with everything. That was my bad, Steve."

"Still shouldn’t’ve snapped at you. It was bitchy and unkind." Dustin smirked.

"You can make up for it with a hug." Steve snorted and opened his arms. Obviously, Dustin could get a hug from him anytime. Not only was companionship and touch something instinctually needed for werewolves, but Dustin was his little brother. Obviously, Steve was gonna let Dustin hug him whenever he wanted.

"Did you two finally make up?" Steve heard after a few minutes, and the two released. Standing in the sliding glass doorway was Eddie, with Robin behind him, hands on her hips. "I don’t think either of us would make for good mediators." Steve rolled his eyes and ruffled Dustin’s hair, making the kid laugh and bat his hand away.

"No, neither of you would," Steve grinned at his friends, "Eddie, you’d just avoid the issue and move on, and Robin, you’d get too anxious about it to even get involved,"

Eddie shrugged, and Robin sighed. Steve was very emotionally intelligent; he couldn’t tell if it came with the territory of being a siren or if it was just him, but if there was anything he was good at, it was reading people’s emotions.

And like, swimming or something.

"I can’t help it, I’m skittish towards conflict!" Eddie grinned, raising his hands in surrender.

"I’d like to prove you wrong but the only rebuttal I can think of is about Hellkins 4 and I’d really rather not think about that right now," Dustin commented, and the atmosphere of the room changed instantly. "Can we change the subject?"

"Let’s talk about Steve!" Robin supplied after a minute, "We don’t know much about sirens besides the whole," she made rapid circles with her hand, "shifting and sirenspeak thing. What else can you do?"

Part 3!

[malriex]

The Demon Prince’s Wife

Tags: Omegaverse, Fantasy Romance, Fantasy, A/B/O, Omegaverse Fiction, A/B/O Fiction, Historical fantasy, Romance, Tragedy, Original Works, OC, Original Character, M Alpha OC X M Omega OC

Writers note: First time writing so yeah it's gonna suck in some areas.

Note: Historical fantasy society where Alpha, Beta, Omega, are all taken equally the only difference is their role in society and social hierarchy.

INTRO:

This is a story that’s been known by many. There was a great war between the Empire of Valoria and the Empire of Theryn. The conflict began when the Emperor of Valoria sought a huge land from the Empire of Theryn and claim it as his own, however the Emperor of Theryn confronted the Emperor of Valoria remind him that they are in a foreign land and is already owned by someone else. The Emperor of Valoria see this as an offence and declared war, called thousands of his soldiers, ready to invade Theryn.

Because of this the Emperor of Theryn armed all of his soldiers to retaliate and protect their home land. The war lasted for five years and many lives from both empires were claimed.

Until young prince of Valoria married the princess of Theryn. Thus bringing peace for both empires.

Chapter 1: The Imperial Order

"NO NO NO !!!!!!! NOT LIKE HIM !!!!!!" as a loud yell can be heard across the study room. A mid-teen male with a long blonde wavy hair, blue eyes keep and fair skin keep crying and pouting. Though he’s wearing a wonderful white long blouse matched with silk pants and shoes with an elegant embroidered light blue shawl, he’s on the floor kicking and throwing tantrums, his attitude didn't matched his elegant outfit. 

"THAT’S ENOUGH NALRE !!!! HOW COULD AN OMEGA LIKE YOU MARRY SOMEONE IF YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE A CHILD !!!!!" yelled by his mother Marchioness Aliges who dressed fancy but annoyed by her whinnying son that's right in front of her, as she sat like a queen in her throne, tapping the fan on her lips she's obviously hiding her frown glaring at her husband who's right across the room just standing there facing the fire place.

“Norai !!!! Why did agree to this !!??" Marchioness angrily asked Marquess.

"Marissa ... It is a discussion with me and the Empress..... I know this is a surprise for all of you....however it is an Imperial order .... She's looking for an omega as wife for his son Prince Silas, regardless if it’s male or female. Our family have what they're looking for....The prince is an alpha in his own right...... If we have ties with the Imperial family.... our family could rise to dukedom." Marquess Aliges trying to hide his emotions with a firm posture.

"Of course ...... Of course they'd look for an omega to put a length on that wrenched blood line !!!!" as Marchioness grits her teeth.

"I KNOW THAT !!!!.........I KNOW THAT PRINCE SILAS IS AN ALPHA !!!!, BUT DO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS !!!! HE'S CALLED DEMON PRINCE !!!! EVERYBODY KNOWS HOW HE KILLED TWO OF HIS FIANCE !!!! HOW HE SLAUGHTERED ANOTHER NOBLE HOUSE !!!!"......"FATHER HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME !!!!!!"....."I KNOW THAT HE IS A PRINCE AND HIS MOTHER IS THE EMPRESS BUT HE'S NOT EVEN THE CROWN PRINCE....LIKE... LIKE PRINCE LORCAN....... FATHER DID YOU FORGET !!!!! ... I’M ALREADY A CADIATATE FOR THE NEXT EMPRESS ....... I SHOULD BE WITH PRINCE LORCAN !!!" Nalre cries even further.

The Marchioness stood up walks to the Marquess and scoffed "If there's one thing that baffles me.... Is why we Valorian even have to bow with that foreign Empress !!!".

"It is a peace treaty that we gave those Theryn." Marquess responds.

The rest of the Aliges family are all gathered in the study room unease with this revelation. Nalre's brother Lorai who’s just sitting on the couch crossing his arms and legs contemplating about the whole thing as he looked up and asked.

“Father which one ??? ....Did the empress specify on who is she going to take ???”

 “No.... As long as it’s a member direct of our family”   

“Hummmm........ if that’s the case then why don’t we give them Dianthus." Lorai points to his brother who's in the corner of the room.

Dianthus is shock about what Lorai said, gripping the chest fabric of his plain blouse with his head down, too timid to say anything.

Dianthus is similar to Nalre when it comes to appearance, he just wore plain clothes and try not to be a nuisance to the family. However Dianthus's short light golden brown hair with long uneven bangs covering his purple eyes what sets him apart from the rest of the family. Because the Marquess and Nalre have blonde hair and blue eyes, and Marchioness and Lorai have ginger hair and green eyes.

Lorai smirks "Father, Nalre is not the only omega in this house, like he said he's a candidate for the next Empress. So Nalre's hands already have a responsibility... Of course I can't be a wife !? I'm an alpha and going to be the next heir of this house.. Dianthus on the other hand is not even engage, he doesn't even have a suitor.... I think he's a perfect fit...... Besides Dia.... Make yourself useful for once.... Let's just dolled him up and maybe.... Just maybe the prince himself might have a liking to Dia.... Who knows.!?" as Lorai shrugs.

“As expected form the heir of Aliges... My eldest son..... Brilliant indeed !!!” Marquess Aliges walks to his son laughing and hugging him, patting his shoulder proud of his suggestion.

"which reminds me... The Empress did told me the prince have a preference... He likes brown haired omegas.... That's why you're here Dianthus." as Marquess giggled.

The Marchioness opens her fan hiding her lips “This child out of wedlock do have a purpose after all.” and laugh. 

Nalre finally stop whining and grinning from ear to ear for what he just heard.

"So I'm not going !?" Nalre asked.

"HUMP !!!! .....Of course child why would we paired you with that foreign beast !!!!." Marchioness said proudly.

"yes... That would be all.... right Dia.!?" as marquess smiles at Dianthus.

"now we all must be ready for a wedding of a lifetime.!!!" as the Marquess he spread his arms announcing his words.

As they all looked at Dianthus with glee.

"wait !!..... but can I just......... Be other than that !?." Dianthus sheepishly asked.

Nalre stomps towards Dianthus as he slapped him across the face, screaming "YOU SHOULD BE GREATFUL YOU USELESS HALF CELTIC SCUM !!!!!...... OR YOU'LL LIVE IN THE ATTIC FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE !!!!!."

Nalre slapped Dianthus so hard he feel on the floor.

As the Marchioness walks toward Dianthus looks down on him saying "you're nothing but a mere dog in this house, you're lucky we still treat you like a human..... Now get up and go to the attic unless we call you." as she walks out of the room. Followed by the rest of the family.

[thewarriorspecial]

In Vino Veritas

*Archive Edition* Previously only linked to AO3, full work now available under the cut.

Read on AO3

Rating: Teen | 1.2k | Guy Gardner/Kyle Rayner, Hal Jordan, John Stewart

Additional Tags: Drinking, Drinking Games, Established Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Humor

The boys enjoy a night at the bar and they play Guy's favorite game.

“In Vino Veritas, kiddos,” Guy sing-songs as he sets bottle after bottle on the table. It was his bar and he'd drink himself penniless if he wanted too. Besides, he didn’t want to look cheap in front of his beau and never passed on a chance to upstage Hal.

“I’m older than you,” Hal said, eyeballing the alarming amount of liquor filling his eye-line.

“Ok, explain this game to me,” Kyle said.

“We’re getting wasted, obviously,” said Hal.

“Au contraire, mon frère,” Guy said, all French r’s and Bostonian a’s, “Getting shit-wrecked and/or passing out is the only way to lose the game. The game works like this. We take turns asking questions. You can man-up and answer or puss out and drink.”

“I like it, I wanna go first.” Kyle said excitedly.

The door banged open and then shut. Guy’s eyes shot up and he let out an excited howl, taking flight and barreling into the newcomer, “Here’s Johnny!” Guy screamed as he and John tumbled to the ground.

“That’s my line,” John said as he struggled and failed to get to his feet, “Can’t even walk in the door,” he grumbled playfully, letting Guy bear hug him and rock him back and forth to his content.

“You’re drinking with us,” Guy said, clearly a statement and not a question.

“We’re getting wasted,” Kyle hooted from the table. “First question is for John. What’s it like being stuck up Batman’s ass for the last 8 months?”

“Dank,” John deadpanned, “Me next, did you miss me?” He asked Guy.

“Lil bit,” Guy said holding his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart.

“Hal Jordan!” Guy roared, “Best Pink Floyd album?”

Hal shook his head as he poured himself a shot of Johnny Walker.

“Bitch, you know it’s The Wall.”

Hal shook his head again and downed the shot, “Not doin this today, man.”

“The Wall!”

“Pass.”

“Waaalll,”

“Kyle,” Hal moved on, “When’s the wedding?”

Kyle started to pour Patrón and looked over to Guy who was finally letting John up. Guy caught his gaze and the two smiled and mooned over each other for a moment. Hal gagged.

“Should we tell them?’ Kyle mouthed. Guy smiled and shrugged.

An hour later, Guy had thrown music on and John was mixing himself cocktails. Kyle was sucking idly on a wedge of lime and Hal was leaning heavily on the table, sipping his whiskey and managing to look mostly distinguished.

And Guy…Guy was perched on his barstool, giggling. He was clutching a half empty bottle of Fireball and had his pants tied around his head. “Hal, what’s your body count?”

Hal stared at his glass, then up at Guy, “Twenty four.”

“Twenty four?!” Kyle was shocked.

“That’s it?” John asked and Hal nodded.

“Really?” Asked Guy.

“The fuck you mean, really?” Hal laughed “I do other stuff you know.”

“Like? Guy scoffed.

“Like saving the universe, tool.”

“Oh, I thought you meant you had another hobby, like you’re out here knitting sweaters or some shit.” Guy cackled.

“Sex isn’t my hobby!”

John looked at Hal, utterly confused.

“So you’re a pro?” Guy ducked a swat from Hal, “What’s your rate?”

“You can’t afford me.” Hal swirled his drink, contemplating his next target, “John, what’s your kink?”

John smiled and sipped his cocktail.

“Aww!” Kyle protested.

“C’mon, man!” Guy crowed.

“I’m a man of mystery. Can’t give it all away on one game,” John said and Guy boo’d. “Alright, Guy. Top or bottom?”

Kyle’s mouth dropped open and Guy slid down in his seat.

“You…I mean you asking me or if I think, um,”

“Are. You. A top. Or a bottom.” John smirked as he reiterated his question.

Guy rattled with nervous laughter and before he could stop himself his mouth went, “Vers.”

“Huh,” John said with an indulgent look.

“What?” Guy laughed.

John put his hands up, “No judgment, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?”

Kyle smiled and bit his lip. Hal buried his face in his drink. Guy looked around awkwardly, flushed from the alcohol but more from the question.

“Ok moving on,” Guy was still a little miffed, “Babe, you ever think about someone else when you’re with me?”

Kyle dramatically poured himself another shot.

“WHAT?!” Guy screeched and Kyle laughed, reaching for Guy’s arm.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Kyle smiled and patted Guy’s bicep.

“You better be! Oh my gahd!” Guy was scandalized, still wearing his pants-hat.

“Best sex you ever had?” Kyle asked, pointing at John.

“Fatality,” John leered.

“Dude, didn’t she try to kill you?” Kyle asked.

“Oh yeah. Crazy girls are the best.”

“Yeah,” Guy and Hal said in unison.

“So I’m crazy?” Kyle raised an eyebrow at Guy.

“No…” Guy sensed a trap.

“So I’m not the best?”

“You are with that whip,” Guy said with a lecherous grin.

“Woah,” Hal laughed.

“Knew it,” John scoffed into his drink. “Alright,” he cracked his knuckles, “Guy. Survival mission. Do or die. Escape pod can only fit three of us, who are you leaving behind?”

“Well, I’m fucked,” Hal said with resignation.

“I’d never leave you behind,” Guy said, suddenly serious. “I’d stay.”

“You hate me. You’d finally be rid of me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Guy said softly which visibly rankled Hal, “I don’t,” Guy insisted, “We just,” he glanced quickly at Kyle, “Had a misunderstanding. And I was a pissant about it. As usual.” “That is the closest I’ve ever heard you come to apologizing,” Hal paused, waiting for more.

“It is.” Guy still had his pride, for better or worse.

Kyle glared suspiciously between the two while John swirled his drink and smiled, following the words like a tennis match.

“Okay,” Hal conceded, almost forgiving Guy in exchange for his almost apology.

“Okay,” Guy agreed. The four men sipped in pleasant quiet juxtaposed with ‘Love Shack’ blaring over the bar speakers.

“Who’s turn is it?” Kyle asked, bubbling with excitement over his next question.

“Oh it’s my turn, kid,” Guy leered at Hal. Hal shot back a challenging glare over his drink.

“Which one of us is best in bed,” Guy whipped his head to the left, “John?”

John grinned and went to sip his drink and realized with dismay that it was empty.

Lightning fast, Guy snatched the Absolut away, “No way José! You’re out! You gotta answer!”

John licked his teeth seductively, slowly looking from one man to the next, “The one with the biggest dick.”

“Aw, bullshit,” Kyle slapped his hand on the table.

“Come on,” Hal groaned, “That’s not—“

With his pants conveniently out of the way, Guy started shoving his boxers down, “Whip ‘em out gents, we’re settling this now!”

“Guy, no!” Kyle and Hal immediately escalated to using their rings to get Guy under control. John let out a full body laugh watching two Green Lanterns power up and try to fight a timeless, eternal battle.

No force in the universe could compel Guy to keep it in his pants.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HEHE BRAINSTORM TIME!!! Ok wait I’ll save this section for last so it doesn’t get diluted in my responses LMAO I’m very glad some of my ideas proved useful to you in the past though!! Wasn’t really sure how they seemed from more of a writer’s perspective but I’m glad they worked out :))

No literally I remember after breeding I’d see the egg and just go yup off you go…also I remember then implementing like…elders at some point? Where you level them to 20 or something and they change form again and WOW THOSE WERE SO UGLY TOO

I’m laughing so hard when you put it like that Karasu was really going through it like damn I didn’t choose my name!!

FRRR I love the dynamic and the fluctuating power balance is my fav like they’re so complex it’s not just any cliche black and white scenario!!

YEARS!!! OOH BOY IM SO READY

I’m dying the “oh…sae….” LMAOOOOOO I loved the little brother moments and the way Sae was balanced between dry yet interested was >>>> like subtle in ways that would actually match his soccer loser personality a lot more then some of the suave fboy tropes that are more abundant….maybe it’s also because we share a lot of the same thoughts so I’m partial to the way you write their characters LOL

I’ve exhausted your BLLK masterlist and though I’m not knee deep in jjk anymore I still hold my favs dear to my heart so I’m gonna go check out that masterlist now….I literally just took a glance and 208K WORDS POMEGRANTE INK YUTA STORY??? SIGN ME UP AND THE INUMAKI ONE??? My JJK fixated self would’ve died for this I remember at some point those tags got kinda dry too (bc of Gojo hype I imagine LOL)

Ok but YUKI IDEAS ok so I’m not as passionate about yukimiya as some other characters (as I’m sure you’re aware LOL) so I’m not fully sure how hit or miss these are gonna be BUT I’m going to kinda categorize them by setting (??) or broad topic for convenience:

ok so there’s obviously some of the more cliche ones like where y/n is also a model and they collab and whatnot but I DO think that sort of au/universe has potential…? In the sense of the fic revolving more around Yuki’s career as a model so I’ll section this

MODEL CAREER:

- y/n is yuki’s manager, I can think of this also having many different ways to start but I’ll list out what first comes to mind: 1) childhood friends, y/n is with him when he first gets scouted and is the one who kinda encourages him to go for it, even just for fun. Like I imagine yuki contemplating it since he plays soccer obviously and has eye issues if he should take the job or whatever, but in exchange for him try he’s like “ok well I’m not doing this shit alone I’m dragging you with me so surprise you need to be my manager” (idk how realistic this is but shhhhhhh) 2) I’m realizing this entire setting is slightly difficult in a high school setting oops so I guess they can be in college..? But let’s just say they met in college and yuki’s like ugh my last manager was stealing my commission profits or something and is like cycling through managers like “damn they all SUCK and want my money or are trying to take advantage of the job” kinda and y/n is just like ok let me do it 3) y/n and yuki have no previous ties and y/n is just hired as his manager (maybe she’s an intern at his agency) after he gets scouted and they kinda just have to figure it out like “lmao we’re just finishing hs and have no idea how to do this shit” maybe because of their inexperience they get into a dating scandal LMAO

- Y/n dreams of being in the fashion industry and is kicking off her career by creating clothes and is now trying to form a sort of agency/company/brand to manufacture and advertise her fashion line. Obviously, her brand is gonna need some models/ambassadors to wear her clothing!! So, newbie y/n whose fresh in the industry is desperately looking for models to recruit to work with and stumbles upon yukimiya (I’d imagine at this point that he’s already an established model) I can imagine this going a few ways: 1. He refuses at first but y/n keeps hunting him down and asking (begging) him to join (maybe y/n is from a loaded family who disapproves of this career but has enough pocket money to fund her things and tries to increase her offer but yukimiya, who canonical does not care much for money, is like idc abt money LMAO), but maybe at some point y/n idk saves him from paparazzi or something or defamation and he’s like well I’m indebted to you so sure I’ll model and that’s how things kick off 2. This is a lot more meet cute like, but like most artists just starting out, I bet y/n is sleep deprived and lives in a coffee shop downing coffee while working on designs and company things and in her chaotic mess she rushes to stand up and spills coffee onto yukimiya, she offers him a free shirt or somthing from her line as an apology and yuki is either like “hey wait this shirt kinda slaps” and offers to model OR y/n goes “wait my b can I take a pic of you wearing my shirt I’ll pay you” but yeah LMAOAOA I just kinda wrote out what came to mind as I typed this so it’s definitely not very refined but if this serves as any form of inspiration go ahead and mold it as you see fit LOLLL

Eyes (duh LMAO):

- ok so this is the only one I can think of right now that maybe isn’t WILDLY cliche but ok so obviously yuki is devastated about his condition and the doctor sends him to a glasses shop (?) he recommends to get his specific prescription glasses and whatnot, let’s say y/n’s family owns this specific shop so every time he goes to get his glasses adjusted and prescription fixed she’s the one usually assisting him and yadayada they get to know each other and whatnot via those meetings, maybe he kinda hates her at first because every time he sees her it’s just a reminder that his vision is failing and that his dream is dying but eventually he warms up somehow

Penguins (ok so this one is kinda crack and formed from me looking through the Bible again because for the life of me I could not think of anything else to explore):

- model yuki’s next photoshoot involves ocean motifs so he goes to an aquarium with his crew to shoot. Ok again, as usually, I have a couple avenues for this too: 1) they have a shoot with the animals so Penguin handler/trainer y/n is in charge of bringing penguins to him to pose with him and whatever and obviously he’s omfg penguins and they start rambling about penguins and hit it off 2) during his visit he sees y/n through the glass feeding the penguins in the exhibit and eventually yuki just keeps coming back to the aquarium in his down time (because he likes penguins or otherwise the world will never know LMAO) and let’s just say they end up interacting somehow while y/n is on shift

Ok well now I wish we had more yukimiya lore (it would be really helpful if we had the LN right about now but actually I think I’ll have access to it in a couple days so I’ll def come back and dump more once we learn more from there….)

I’m NGL halfway through writing all this I was like “erm what am I even thinking” I started with an idea and it kinda just snowballed into this pile so LMAO hopefully this maybe gives you some ideas but admittedly I feel like I’ve had better brainstorming sessions oops…..will return once I get my hands on the novel (with ideas and summaries about the LN LOL)

I remember for fun I translated Hiori’s from scratch and that took way longer than I thought because of all the nuances and just me figuring out how to word things well LMAO maybe I’ll try again for practice though…..or I’ll take out the really important parts to type out but either way will return once that happens

-Karasu anon

ofc i can’t speak for every writer but at least me personally i feel like i rlly like being able to take requests in my own way?? like the more open ended a request/prompt is the more i’m like 😏 LMAOAO i think all of my longest/favorite requests have just been like character + trope (ex karasu + academic rivals, kaiser + pr relationship, sae + slowly falling in love, etc). so the more loose random thoughts you give me the better because i can use them as a starting point instead of being constrained by them 🤔 if that makes sense lol (not that i mind more specific requests HAHA anything works for me ofc!!)

i used to look up the eggs as soon as i got them just to see what they’d hatch into because some of those eggs were DECEIVING like the prettiest egg for the most mid dragon ever 😭 and omg the elder dragons were so…interesting…dragonvale truly the game of all time

karasu was going through it and he couldn’t even snap back because y/n could literally have him killed if she wanted to 😟 not that she WOULD but he was just standing there like “haha…girl you’re so funny…😭😭💔💔” GIVE MY MAN DAMAGE PAYYYY

i can’t wait to write more of otoya and y/n they truly are such an insane duo (plus dare i say a tabieitay/n trio may be in the future 😨⁉️) every time i write them interacting it’s like putting their personalities on steroids HAHAH they truly bring out the worst/best in each other

YUP YEARSSS we’re going to see y/n rise to power (in the same way oda nobunaga did) and then we’re also going to see how things end up for her (spoiler: not well, considering who everyone is based off of) so there’s quite a lot to get through!!

i agree we’re on the same wavelength w literally everything so it makes sense that we share interpretations of characters LMAOAOA we also both have a similar distaste for fanon fboy characterization which sae is a VICTIM to so when you put it that way it makes sense that you ended up enjoying him in seabird!! hehe i’m rlly happy you did though because honestly i was worried when i first posted it that i had made him ooc or smth just because i was so unfamiliar w him at the time 😩

POMEGRANATE INK IS TRULY SUCH A RIDE i started it in like 2022 and then it went on hiatus for over a year and then randomly i got so motivated that i wrote over 100k words in a month and finished the whole thing this january??? lmao its comeback is legendary on this blog 😭 honestly i’m also not that into jjk anymore but pomegranate ink specifically is so close to my heart like THAT’S what’s canon to me not whatever gege is up to!! it’s definitely very very long but it really runs the gamut…like angst?? cracky humor?? romance?? platonic/familial bonds?? side characters w plot relevance?? it has all of that plus more (as is to be expected given how long it is 😭) if you ever have the time or are bored it’s definitely one of my fav things i’ve written despite how questionable it is at first plus it has the bonus of being completed so i would 10/10 recommend you read it 👆🏻 if only so you can understand the post i made abt how yukimiya and mrs l/n from pomegranate ink could canonically know one another without making either verse an au.

SPEAKING OF YUKI OMG I LOVE YOUR IDEAS i will def take them into consideration…i agree out of tabieitaken he’s probably the one i’m hyped abt the least?? ironically their names are listed in the order of how much i love them KDJDKS but i’m sure if i ever write him as a main love interest instead of as just a pretty side obstacle my feelings will change v rapidly though!! sometimes writing men that are too much of green flags is like…boring…LMAO karasu is the right mix for me personally where he’s a green flag at heart but not afraid to be sassy when it’s necessary to keep things entertaining and dramatic 😫 like the entirety of fwtkac would not have happened if it was yuki because he’s too mature he’d just communicate w the mc and be like “hey that hurt my feelings when you said that about me so i’d prefer if you didn’t in the future. btw i actually have feelings for you!! 😊” bro 😭 but there def are avenues to getting around that i’ll just have to think abt it a bit before i get to writing!!

the way i already have more ideas for karasu and otoya though…heard the song best friend’s brother for the first time in a WHILE (on tik tok ofc because that app is truly my greatest muse) and maybe because we’ve been talking abt tabieita and their sisters but my mind IMMEDIATELY went to them HAHAHA like imagine being bffs w otoya’s younger sister and knowing exactly what kind of guy he is because she always complains abt him but then you end up falling for him anyways??? or like say karasu’s older sister is only a year or two older than him so you guys are p close in age but you always make fun of him for being a bit younger which makes him feel #mediocre because he’s actually in love w you real not clickbait!!! i thought abt yuki too but he just had to be an only child 😒 or else that trope could honestly work pretty well for him!!

[tinyyzz]

Happy (early) Birthday!

A/N: Another one that i found, i think most of my old ones actually exist if i scrounge around in my emails more, anyways happy birthday to the one and only <3

EDIT: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED ON THE 25TH WHY IS IT HERE I— yk what nvm enjoy anyways

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

You gripped the square -shaped present wrapped up carefully in your hands. Nervously jittering as you continuously put it down on your desk and then taking it back in your hands.

This was crazy, you thought, absolutely, horrifyingly crazy. (note: mood lawl)

From the start you had known it yourself that you were not the best person in selecting and buying presents for anyone ever. Yet somehow here you are with a present and taking chances. If you were ever described as bold, this scenario would be it.

Maybe he wouldn’t want it.

…wouldn’t he?

Maybe you should just leave right now.

Nonsense, you scolded yourself. This was the first time celebrating his birthday with him and you were going to leave?

Maybe he doesn’t like presents.

It’s the thought that counts.

Would he even use what you were giving him?

“Argh!!” You cried, resisting the urge to throw it at the wall. Frowning in frustration of your stupid and unnecessary anxiety that was slowly rising as you paced the office floors quietly, nervously waiting for the earlier requested audience with Tommy after work.

Staring and contemplating at the wrapped present you now held in your hands, the silent argument in your head muted the world around you when, suddenly, it was snatched from your grasp from a pair of hands in the air.

“What’s this?”

You slowly turned and looked at the face that belonged to the familiar voice, groaning inwardly as a familiar set of piercing blue eyes stared back at you, with the present held up high in the air.

Tommy Shelby, you probably didn’t hear him come out of his office when you were thinking.

“Give it here Tommy.” You started firmly.

Instant regret of buying the present thundered down in your mind at once. Determination to get the present back stirred inside you as you reached up high for it.

“Tommy please—“

“Was all your noise for this?” He frowns, but you see his face brighten instantly after studying it for a moment.”Isn’t it my birthday today?” His eyes crinkling as he shows a small grin teasingly,” Is this mine?”

“Well—“

He looks at it for a moment, reading the tag that you had tied on daintily, watching his face lighten up even more when he reads that it was, indeed, intended for him.

“It is.” He smiled smugly, already tugging the wrapping.

“Tommy, really, I don’t think you would like it.”

He stops in his tracks, turning his gaze onto you with a glimpse of disbelief in his eyes. “It’s from you.” He says, bluntly and slightly bewilderedly.”Why wouldn’t I like it?”

“I just…” You stammered, trying to find words but eventually gave up and sighing in defeat. ”Alright then, go ahead, open it.”

He smiles, and you couldn’t help but give a weak smile back.” Just don’t say anything if you like it or if you don’t like it, I don’t think it’s very good present anyway and…“

You trail off when he unwraps it completely and watch him open the black box gently, revealing the gleaming pocket watch lying in its red velvet cloth, the needles working smoothly, counting down the seconds. The face, clean and bright with the efforts of you wiping it as much as you could. You look up at him nervously and watch him take out the watch slowly and gently. “It’s beautiful.”

You blink in surprise. “You like it?”

He puts his arm around you and kisses the crown of your head. Looking down and smiling at your confused face.

“I love it.”

[80s4life]

God Help Me*

Word Count: 2,306

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Orange Is The New Black

A/N: Just watched some more of oitnb and felt that Joe was an underrated character. So, here's something dirty for the dirty dog!

Relationship: Joe Caputo x Female Reader

Summary: (Based loosely on S3:E7 (”Tongue-Tied”) where the new recruits for security are supposed to be getting the 40 hours of training, but denied by the new employers. Specifically, when Bayley makes his mistake with the pepper spray incident, Caputo is outraged, in the need of a break. Luckily, you know how to ease his tension.

Warnings: language, age-gap pairing, against laws, forbidden, smut, retardation name calling (once, not me though, a line from the show!)

Taglist: @intersellars-the-networks-of-eve @snapessecretdiary

Masterlist Orange Is The New Black Masterlist

{gif is not mine, credits to @thompsonconnors}

"What the fuck was that?" Joe Caputo asks, confused and struggling to keep up with the messes every corner he turns. "You assess the situation and you respond with the appropriate level of force! And you never, ever, ever discharge your weapon unless it's absolutely necessary!" he continues, not done just yet. "And if you do, and that weapon happens to be pepper spray, you better damn well make sure you're upwind!"

Bayley, the new recruit, alongside Donaldson, a long-term member of this prison, look down, ashamed of themselves. Blinking their eyes every so often, the pain in their eyes searing with the combination of the regret in how they got in this position in the first place and the stinging pepper spray.

Motioning towards Bayley, Caputo continues with his mantra, "You are a trigger-happy knucklehead who just got out of diapers," now turning his attention to Donaldson, "But you, how could you let this happen?" he finishes, exasperated.

Donaldson, finding some courage, fires back, "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not a nanny." He may have screwed up, but he is not putting his life on the line for an idiot.

"No! You are an officer with 20 plus years' experience, and your job was to impart some wisdom on fucking Baby Huey over here!" Caputo spits, motioning towards Bayley once more.

"Well, this is what happens when you put untrained officers in gen pop," Donaldson says once more, although very quickly and almost fearfully. As if he were a child talking back to his parents.

"You don't think I know that? I fucking know that!" Caputo says once more, placing a hand over his head, letting out a tired sigh as he walks back behind his desk. "Bayley, I should be firing your ass," he motion towards the young man with two pointed fingers.

"I know," is all he manages meekly.

"But, it's your first day, so I'm gonna chalk this up to mental retardation. If you so much as look at an inmate wrong in the next week, you're out of here!" Caputo motions with a "whoosh." Now looking Bayley up and down in disbelief, he catches the small paper taped to his chest as well, "Take that stupid fucking name tag off."

As the men nod once more, he finishes with, "Now go! Get your asses down to medical and get an eyewash. And read the stupid fucking manuals!" he grunts, shaking the book in question and slamming it on his desk as the officers leave.

Throwing himself into his chair, he almost considers kicking and flailing around like a child in order to let off steam, but he is quickly denied the chance as you knock and burst through his office within a second.

“Sir.”

“What is it now?” he asks quietly, a hand holding his head up by his chin, fingers covering his now closed eyes.

“Well- uhm- well...” you continue, quite nervous as you don’t know where his hostility had come from, you being unsure whether it was your doing or not. It was uncharted waters you weren’t sure on stepping into or not.

“What. Is. It!?” he yells now, eyes wide open, hands clutching the ends of his armrests. Making you yelp and jump a bit, taking a few steps back into the doorway.

Seeing this reaction, he sighs once more, taking in your wide eyes and slightly tense posture, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s been a long day, okay?”

“I-I understand sir.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Joe, or Caputo if that’s what floats your boat?” he says, an attempt to coax you out of your startled state.

“I’m sorry s- Caputo. I only wanted to tell you that I bought ya’ something. A little gift, I guess.” you say, a blush tinting your cheeks.

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything!” He smiles now, relieving you, and bringing a smile to your own features at his now somewhat upbeat mood.

“Well, ya’ know...I remember you telling me about a band of yours, right?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he smirks, looking back at fond memories and the new ones with his new band.

“Well, since your style of music was rock, and I just so happened to be in the area of a new music store, I found some goodies there!” Pulling a seat in front of his desk, you grab the wrapped presents from the waistband of your belt, having hidden it behind your back in attempt to completely surprise him.

He smiles at your childish antics, lightly taking the wrapped good from your small, delicate hands. Unwrapping the smallest one, he finds a box underneath the covers. Opening it, his smile grows bigger as his eyes meet a black guitar pick, a skull etched into it and painted white. 

His eyes meet yours for a second, a fondness there, looking back down once more as he admires it. “I love it,” he says after a second.

“That’s not all!” you say, excited now as he already likes one of the things you’ve picked out for him, pulling out a medium-sized present next. You take this sudden change of attitude as a sign, wanting to hopefully ease the stresses the guards and staff have been taking, especially Joe.

Taking it from your hands once more, your hands make contact, the blush on your face intensifying a little more. Unwrapping the present, he finds a black bandanna, his band name printed onto it, matching the guitar pick. He giggles at this, tying it around his head for your view.

You laugh as well as you go to hand him the biggest and last of the presents, his eyes lighting up once he finds what it is. “Nu-uh! You didn’t! This must’ve cost a fortune!” he almost yells now, a genuine leather guitar strap in his grip as he jumps up from his seat.

“No, actually they gave me a little discount on it. It took a lot of searching to get the one you’ve been specifically looking for, but the guy said I was cute- anyway! I just thought you needed these since work has been beating your ass,” you say, smirking lightly.

“You didn’t need to do this,” he says, settling back into his seat as he grasps your hands lightly, still star-struck as he looks at the strap still in his hand.

The gesture was innocent, but as time goes on, you blush a deep red, him still not letting go of your hands. Noticing this, he goes to pull away, clearing his throat, standing, and straightening out his suit. There, you notice a slight tent in his pants, igniting a flame in your belly. 

“Well, thank you Miss Y/L/N, these were very nice...”

“Anytime...” you say slyly, dragging on your words as you stand as well, not bothering to fix your pants as it sticks tightly to your ass and thighs. 

He looks down, gulping as he takes in your curves he usually tries to ignore, clearing his throat once more as his eyes meet yours. Only now did he realize the close proximity between the two of you, you intending to lean in and fix his tie. As you do so, he grabs your hand, pulling it away, “Don’t tempt me. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Oh, I’m pretty damn sure I do,” you say as you pull him down to your height by the tie, pulling at the base of his neck, kissing him now. 

Breaking apart for a moment, you make your way around the desk, perching yourself atop it as you pull him between your legs, kissing him once more. Tongues fighting for dominance, you tease him, sucking on it, and nibbling on his lips. He growls, the tent now very evident in his pants, the tightness an annoying constriction.

He pulls away once more, going to lock his office door, having placed a ‘On a lunch break’ sign above his name. Making his way back over to you, his lips attach to yours once more, moving to remove your weaponry belt. You do the same, unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt, moving to leave kisses, bites and hickeys. 

Continuing your attack, you move your hand to his belt, working quickly as he unbuttons your shirt, exposing your constricted, perky breasts. He grunts once more, adding to your eagerness as you finally get his belt out of the loops. Now both full of impatience, you unleash his cock, him doing the same for your breasts and pants. Completely removing everything from your being, leaving your half-unbuttoned shirt.

Not wasting time, he starts to work your clit, moisturizing ever bit of you as he collects it and moves his finger in all the most special parts, lubricating your core with ease. You grip his cock, teasing it as you run your finger along the slit at the top, precum already oozing. Looking him in the eyes, you notice his golden browns now a dark chocolate eyes, admiration sparkling them as he looks back at you. 

You moan as he enters a finger into your core, soon adding another as you loosen yourself for him. Finally, when he deems you ready, he reaches into one of the desk drawers, pulling out a condom. Motioning to him, he hands it over, letting you take over and do the honors. He simply places both arms on either side of your form, caging you in his embrace, smirking down at you.

Finally, once the condom was rolled onto his member, he goes to line himself up to your entrance, tip placed right at the beginning, not crossing the threshold just yet. “Are you sure?” is all he asks, wanting consent.

Knowing that this is wrong, you contemplate your options. You have already thought of the many ways he could take you, having been attracted to the older man for many years. Looking him in the eyes, you nod, “I’ve wanted this for too fucking long.”

With this new reassurance, he thrusts deeply, not giving you a chance to adjust just yet, pushing in and not stopping until he’s bottomed out. Taking a breath, you relish in the familiar sting of being stretched out, leaning back on your elbows for a minute. When you’re finally ready, you grab onto his shoulders, nodding once again. 

He starts slow, not wanting to hurt you, but, as you bite his pulse point, he jumps, taking the hint. Pounding into you mercilessly now, you moan and scream loudly, meeting his thrusts with the same momentum and speed, wanting this just as much as he does.

Instead, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you can manage, you busy yourself with admiring and teasing the man before you. Specifically when he switches positions slightly, hitting your g-spot, your hands find their way into the tiny tufts of hair remaining on his balding scalp. Tugging lightly, he groans, pounding harder.

“Fuck!” you choke out, “I’m gonna cum! Joe! I’m gonna cum!”

“Just hold on a bit more, I’m almost there!”

Using his hands, he moves one to your clit, rubbing hard circles, intensifying the pleasure. You moan, the pleasure almost too much for you, settling for leaning your head on his chest. The chest hair tickles your nose, making you giggle between whimpers, kissing him there every so often.

With all your strength, you try to maintain your composure, the knot in your stomach begging for release. But, as you feel his dick twitch, the veins touching every inch of your walls deliciously, you couldn’t hold on any longer, milking his cock. With the sudden tightness and feeling of warmth bursting against him, he continues to thrust just a few seconds more, riding you through your orgasm as he meets his. 

As he slowly comes down from his high, he sighs peacefully, placing his head underneath yours and in the crevice of your neck. You kiss the top of his head as you take his weight, leaning back on your hands, one wrapped around his neck. After a moment, as he now goes soft within your being, he pulls out, disposing the condom.

Smiling, the two of you joke and throw clothes at each other as you get changed again. “So what are we now, Joe?”

“Well, it’d be fucked up to say nothing after mind-blowing-sex, now wouldn’t it?”

“I guess...So does that mean we’re together?”

“Do you want to? I would’a thought a young girl like you would want someone who can keep up with ya’?”

“I mean yeah...but they aren’t you, Joe. I want you,” you say honestly.

“Shit...” he mutters, smiling now, “This is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”

“Is that a ‘yeah’?”

“Hell yeah it is!” he says happily, “Now how about round 2?”

“You’re on Old Man,” you say giggling, hopping into his lap on his desk, kissing him once more.

However your giggling and kisses get cut short with a knock on the door. You sigh, getting off of him not and making sure your clothes are straightened out.

“I guess not...” you say defeated.

“Well...Not right now,” Joe answers, going to the door, giving a sly wink as he opens it. 

Work is only temporary, you know this. You’ll get all the time you need with him tonight.