#i mend my clothes to keep them as long as possible

[kaleblikesfrogs]

I just realized how cheap my clothes are and I'm kinda upset about it? I know I consciously choose my wardrobe but there's no reason that I should be wearing holes in my sweats, why the thread is ripping in the waistband, why my socks have holes after only a few uses, why my jeans never last longer than a year. It's fucking stupid.

[m0tel6mxzzy]

my conceptual fashion inspiration

prompt: using abstract concepts that feel authentic to you, describe your style in 3+ ways using interests and motifs. get creative and use fantasy and your imagination. in a way, this is creating your own aesthetic and feels way more inspired by your personal taste and less limiting!

credits: rian phin photos

porcelain dolls: creepy cute, frilly, black and white, dressing like “i’ve inherited my dead husband’s estate after murdering him” (according to a friend who described my style) vintage/hand me down fur coats, gothic lolita sentiments, thin black chokers

mermaid scales: wrinkled texture effects, maxi skirts, cotton/linen fabrics that feel free like the ocean, baby blue eyeshadow, baby pink hand me down sweaters, cross necklaces that feel “chosen” for me as if containing some sort of magical power

andy sachs: office/workwear, worn in clothing, vibrant blues, cerulean, comfort, practicality, thrifted leather jackets

maraschino cherries: thrifted/hand me down burgundy accessories, maroon lipstick, nana osaki

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Far Cry Cradle.

Pairing: Yandere!Lilia x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Kidnapping, Slight Breeding Kink, Infantilization/Dehumanization, and Implied Pregnancy. Slight Spoilers for Book Seven.

Humans were skittish creatures.

Lilia knew that better than most, but even if he hadn’t, it would’ve been plain to see. Their soldiers required battle cries and marching songs to keep their nerve on the field, their royalty barricaded themselves behind gates of iron and castles of brick, and even the lowliest among them fell back on rumor and superstition to vent their anxiety, telling each other tales of heroes and villains and treachery and valiance as to best root a bit of bravery in one another where they’d failed to plant it in themselves. It was an admirable effort – albeit, a misplaced one. There were things in the world worth being afraid of. Trying to forget that was as foolish as succumbing to it.

You were a skittish creature, certainly. Your condition was no worse than that of the state he found you in, and yet, your trembling had only grown more violent, your muffled noises quickly becoming too pitiful to ignore. It’d been a struggle just to get you back to his cottage, and you’d scrambled into the smallest, darkest possible corner as soon as he’d let you go. It was a miracle you didn’t make a break for the door. At least he knew that, whatever you thought he was going to do to you, it couldn’t have been worse than whatever you’d encountered in the for—

“Please don’t eat me.”

Your voice, cracked and hoarse, brought his attention back to you. He sighed, pushing himself away from the wall and ebbing closer until he stood in front of you. Despite your brazenness, you shied away, sinking that much deeper into your corner. He wondered how long you’d stay there. Any more than a few hours, and he might start to worry.

“I’m going to… eat you?”

A sharp inhale, followed quickly by a shaky nod. “I—In my village, they used to say nocturnal fae considered human flesh to be a delicacy,” you managed, in time. Lilia had to bite back a laugh. “I don’t want to be eaten. If you have to kill me, I’d understand, but I don’t want to be—”

“Relax.” It was more of an order than he meant it to be. Instantly, you went rigid, pulling your knees into your chest and staring at him, doe eyed.

With your panic momentarily thrown into paralysis, he took a moment to evaluate you. You really were in bad shape. Fresh bruises and cuts lined your bare arms and legs, and your clothing had been torn, mended, then torn again. You carried no supplies, but judging from the defensive edge to your posture, the extent of your distress, you’d been fending for yourself for quite a while. Most worryingly, you were barefoot. Wandering through unfamiliar terrain, hungry and cold, was unpleasant. Wandering through unfamiliar terrain, hungry and cold and forced out of comfort so suddenly, you didn’t have time to grab even the most obvious of essentials, was significantly more unpleasant.

He cleared his throat, then fell into a crouch, lowering himself to your height. “Why are you in Briar Valley?”

Your answer came quickly, reflexively. “I was lost.”

“Alright, what were you doing when you got lost?”

This time, your response was less easily provided. “I was… getting lost?”

Perfect. You didn’t have nerve to meet his eyes, but lying to his face didn’t seem to cause you so much strife.

Surprisingly, you spoke up without prompting, uncurling slightly. “Are you going to let me go?”

Lilia grit his teeth. Letting you go would be a bad idea, not only because it was the dead of winter and travelling just about anywhere in your state was a death sentence. You were fickle, and nervous, and more than a little disoriented, but you were human, too, and he was in sore need of one of those.

“No,” and then, rolling his eyes as you let out another keening whimper, “For two reasons. Firstly, it’s winter, you’re injured, and if I let you go back out there, you’d only get yourself killed. Secondly, I need—”

As if rehearsed, an ear-piercing cry broke through the cottage’s quiet, immediately replacing any semblance of peace with a misery that outmatched yours ten-fold. Lilia, as exhausted as he’d ever been on the battlefield, let his head fall, forcing himself to take a deep breath before soldiering on. “I have a son,” he said, only just managing to speak over the child’s wailing. “You’ll be taking care of him, during your time here.”

In retrospect, he could’ve been nicer about it – less brisk, more accommodating, leaning more towards a suggestion than a command. But, it wasn’t in his nature to ask questions where he could dull out orders, and if the idea of childrearing was as aversive to you as that of admitting where you hailed from, you did a decent job of masking it. If anything, your expression seemed to soften, your eyes darting in the direction of Silver’s nursery. For the first time since he’d found you, you managed to say something half-way rational.

“…can I meet him?”

Lilia considered it. Waiting until tomorrow morning may have been wiser. You’d have a chance to gather yourself, and he could tend to Silver on his own in the meantime, ready the child to meet someone other than Malleus and himself. It was probably the more considerate thing to do, the smarter thing to do, but the wailing grew louder, and your eyes caught the dim moonlight in a way that almost made you seem eager, and with a rasped sigh, he stood to his full height, signaling for you to do the same. “For a minute or so. He ought to be asleep, by now.”

He turned away from you, and without a word, you scrambled to your feet, tripping over yourself to follow after him.

~

Humans were sentimental things.

Strangely so. Inexplicably so. Silver had warmed to him immediately, sure, but he’d been a newborn at the time, willing to love anyone who could coo his name and make lights in pretty colors dance on their fingertips. Adults had fewer excuses. Baur’s new son-in-law was rumored to have fallen in love with his now-wife the first time he laid eyes on her, and you…

You could’ve loved a dried patch of thistle, so long as it needed your help.

Lilia made a habit of watching you, generally speaking, but he made sure to hover a little closer whenever you had Silver in your arms – which you almost always did, these days. It was clear that your experience was limited, but you took to childrearing like a fish took to water; dedicating yourself to tending to Silver’s needs as you would’ve your own flesh and blood. Currently, you were sitting by the fire in an age-old rocking chair, bouncing him on one knee and balancing an open book on the other, doing your best to read out some nonsensical fairytale to an unruly audience of one. Or, two, he supposed. He was catching more of it than he’d like to.

When you got to the part about the princess being woken up from an eternal sleep by true love’s kiss, he cut in. “If those are the kind of stories you’ll be telling the boy, it might be better not to speak to him at all.”

Your fear of him seemed to fade more and more with every passing sunrise. Now, you only responded to his chiding with a chime of a laugh, a quick shake of your head. “Talking to children is important. It doesn’t matter what you say, so long as they hear your voice.” You paused, leaning just a little closer to Silver. “Plus, it means you’re going to love me way more than your dad when you’re older. By then, you’ll already know he’s no fun.”

By way of reply, Silver clapped merrily and curled a tiny first around your sleeve. You shot Lilia a triumphant smirk. “See? He’s already playing favorites.”

Lilia pursed his lips. “He never seemed to mind being along with me.”

“Only because he didn’t know any better. You were trying to nurse him on wine, and—”

“Fruit juice,” he corrected.

“Fermented fruit juice. In other words, wine.” Almost protectively, you gathered Silver in your arms, propping him against your shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to say his name more, either. You should get into the habit while he’s still too young to remember being called ‘the boy’.”

At that, Lilia turned away entirely, huffing. He knew you were right. He’d known that when he named Silver, when he decided he was fit to raise a child with a face he still saw in his darkest dreams. Still, to love a child unconditionally and to be a father were two very different things. He was currently stumbling through the latter, but accomplishing the former was proving more difficult than he would ever care to admit aloud.

With a sigh, he edged closer to you, perching himself on the arm of your chair. “May I hold him?”

You feigned reluctance, but didn’t put up a fight. Silver was passed from one pair of hands to another, and Lilia held the child in his lap. “Silver,” he muttered, bringing up a hand to pinch his cheek gently. Good-tempered as always, Silver stared at him wide-eyed, as if in anticipation. “My first son was much more durable. Then again, he did have the decency to hatch from an egg.”

“That actually explains a lot about Malleus.” You straightened abruptly, clapping your hands together. “Oh, and we’re running low on powdered milk. You should ask him to pick some up, if he plans on visiting this week.”

 It was Lilia’s turn to laugh, now – not at anything you’d said, but at his own early misconception. He’d been too embarrassed to say anything after your hasty correction, but now, the confession came more easily, more naturally. “Honestly, I thought that’d be less of a problem with you here. I suppose I was under the impression that humans can make their own.”

A beat passed, then another. When he glanced toward you, he found your head bowed, a prominent flush spread over most of your face. It was cute, in a vulnerable sort of way. Lilia took longer than he should’ve to look away. “…some humans can. Only after they’ve had, uh, a child of their own first, though.” You shrugged. “There are a lot of conditions that have to be met before it’s something you really have to worry about, I guess.

“And you haven’t met those conditions, yet?”

Your blush darkened. “No, I haven’t.”

Ah.

On second thought, you weren’t very doe-like after all. Even a deer would’ve had more talent when it came to hiding its expression.

You were quick to divert your attention, pushing yourself to your feet and smoothing over your skirt. “The sun is setting and I’m getting hungry. Could you watch Silver while I start dinner?”

“I was actually thinking I could—”

“I’d rather starve.”

~

Humans were confounding things.

Emotional, irrational, ineffective. Pleasure and comfort were put above survival in almost every circumstance, hierarchy was treated as more of suggestion than a rule, and attachments could be formed to anything your unknowable minds deemed worth pitying. The weather grew warmer, the snowstorms fewer and further between, and yet, the idea of you leaving was never revisited. He wasn’t especially eager to broach the topic either, but Lilia had a good reason to want to keep you nearby, to make sure Silver had another set of eyes to watch over him. The same couldn’t be said for you.

“Mind if I join you?”

He glanced up and, of course, found the source of his misery. The picture was perfect; the set that of his cottage painted in the colors of dusk, the focus you dressed in the simple dress and apron gifted to you by Malleus. There was a low huff, a shallow nod, and you crossed the shallow stream, setting yourself next to him where he kneeled. “Silver just fell asleep,” you explained. “I’d give it a good hour or so before he so much as stirs. That kid could sleep through a war if he wanted to.”

“I think he might’ve,” Lilia muttered. You only laughed, leaning into his side.

“So,” you started, peering into the steam, empty save for the occasional chunk of ice drifting on the current. “What are we looking at?”  

“Lost in thought, that’s all. There won’t be anything worth looking at until Spring.” He sighed. “I suppose you’ll have returned to your proper home, by then.”

To your credit, you only faltered for a fraction of a moment – catching yourself before you let so much as your sweet, simpering smile fall away. A lesser man may not have noticed it, but Lilia was not a lesser man.

“Do you want me to leave?”

No. He’d give an arm and leg to keep you here. He’d let it snow through Spring, Summer and Fall. He’d teach Silver how to cry whenever you so much as thought about a home outside of his cottage. There were few things he wouldn’t do, if it meant you never left.

“I might be old, but I’m not delusional.” He forced himself to chuckle, the loud airy and only somewhat strained. “There’s some place you belong, some place you came from, and I don’t think it’s in this valley. It’d be selfish of me to keep you any longer than you ought to stay.”

He made a point of not looking at you, his gaze focused on the lining the streambed. There was a long exhale, then a hollow thud as you fell back – collapsing to the half-frozen ground. Just barely above a whisper, you admitted, “I like it here, Lilia.”

“Surely there are things from your own world that you miss.”

“Not as many as you’d think.”

“Comforts, then. I’ve heard wonderful things about electricity.”

“I’m plenty comfortable already. More than I ever was back home.”

“There has to be someone you miss, (Y/n).”

He heard the grass rustle as you rolled onto your side. When he stole a glance in your direction, he saw that you’d left your back to him. “Yeah.” And then, after a long moment, “I guess there should be.”

In an act of either sympathy or cowardice, he gave you time, allowed you space. Long seconds passed before you pulled yourself upright, letting your hands fall into your lap with a weary sigh. “I’ll leave on the first day of Spring,” you decided. “Before you forget how to take care of Silver on your own.”

“He’s still my son, you know.”

“Sure.” And just like that, you were back to beaming. This time, Lilia couldn’t stand to tear his eyes away from you.

“But I’m always going to behis favorite.”

~

Humans were softened things.

You, more so than most. Your skin felt like milkweed and velvet where his calloused fingers grazed over it, growing softer the farther up he travelled. There was still a winter chill in the air, but the weather was warming steadily, and at some point during the night, you’d kicked your quilts and blankets to the side, leaving you sheltered by only a cloth sleeping gown with sleeves prone to slipping down your shoulders and a skirt eager to pool around your waist. Any other night, Lilia might’ve rolled his eyes, lit the hearth in your bedroom, and left you to your own devices. Another other night, but not tonight.

It was strange, the way he loved you. He’d loved Maleanor, and a part of him always would, but that’d been different. To love Maleanor had been to love a force of nature; a storm as untouchable as it was destructive. He was never going to have her, and in a certain way, he’d always known that. You were different. You weren’t Maleanor. You weren’t distant, or untouchable, or destructive. He already had you.

All he had to do was make sure you couldn’t get away.

He’d expected there to be more guilt, more resignation. Instead, there was only relief as he propped a knee on the edge of your bed, rested a hand next to your sleeping face, allowed himself to ebb and sway closer to you until he was positioned in the space between your legs, his chest nearly pressing into yours. His gaze never left your expression; panicked and contorted, not completely unlike the face you’d worn when he first brought you home. Poor thing. You were having a nightmare.

Removing your dress came first. You were a fitful sleeper, prone to waking at the slightest disturbance, but he wasn’t green to delicate work. You whimpered as he dragged a pointed talon from your collar to your navel, but didn’t stir, didn’t shift, didn’t do anything that might’ve stopped him from bringing his mouth to your collarbone and pressing a feather-soft kiss into the base of your throat, the curve of your chest, the last blue-ringed bruise you carried from the night you met. A selfish, territorial part of him hoped it would never fade, that you’d always carry a mark connecting back to him. A more optimistic, more reasonable faction reminded him that he could simply make more.

His mouth wandered in time with his thoughts. He was careful, cautious as he curled his hands around your thighs, kneading with as much force as he could risk. You were beautiful in your obedience; spreading your legs reflexively, letting out a soft, breathy noise as Lilia settled into the now-open space. The thin fabric of your panties gave away as easily as your gown had, and Lilia’s patience reached its breaking point. Weary of his fangs, he bowed his head and—

Ah.

Humans were sweet, too.

And reactive. Even unconscious, you responded to each hasty swipe and drag of his tongue with a moan, a whine, a mewl so pitiful and so heartbreaking, the idea of ever letting you travel beyond his sight suddenly seemed irresponsible, cruel, unfair to a creature so delicate, it could hardly stand imagine itself to be unwanted. He sighed, letting his hands drift to your waist as he lapped over your clit, as eager to pleasure you as he was to drink in the fruits of his labor. It wasn’t long before your sleep turned restless, your body shifting underneath him in an attempt to escape unfamiliar stimulation. When he refused to let you go so easily, you reacted on instinct; snapping your thighs shut around his head and drawing out a low, reverberating grown from your willing victim.

More. That was what you must’ve wanted – more. He buried himself that much deeper in his task, nuzzling into the inside of your thigh as his tongue spread you open, curling against the walls of your cunt, seeking out anything sensitive, anything vulnerable, anything to make your hips buck into his mouth and your thighs shake where they were still trapped in his hands. He let his teeth scrape over the tender junctions between your thighs, and when that wasn’t enough, ground the bridge of his nose into your clit. Admittedly, it was messy effort; too hasty for your first time. He was tempted to chide himself for being so overly enthusiastic, but the awareness that this was only the first time of countless was enough of a comfort to spur him on.

It wasn’t long before he felt you tense underneath him, sucking in a harsh breath as your cunt clenched around his tongue. He nursed you through your climax (your first ever climax, he chose to believe) until your little whines had turned to near-pained whimpers, until he could no longer stand to limit himself to simply rutting against cold, lifeless bedding. With one more fleeting kiss to the apex of your hip, he pushed himself onto his knees and took to aligning the leaking head of his cock with your entrance, now dripping with arousal and spit. His gaze fixed on your peaceful expression, he thrust into you, no longer patient enough to be quite so gentle.

It was in a state of unparalleled bliss that the watched your eyes snap open, immediately finding him. Your lips parted, a scream already rising in your throat, but he forced his hand over your mouth before it could surface. It wouldn’t do to wake Silver, not at a time like this.

“Easy, love, easy,” he cooed. Your only response was a wince, a twist, a ragged sob reverberating against his palm. He might’ve been offended, had he not been able to feel you growing warmer, growing tighter around his length. “I apologize if there’s any pain. Can you try and relax for me?”

Apparently not. Your hands found their way to his chest, clawing frantically thought the thin material of his tunic. You tried to move his legs, too, but he was quick to put a stop to that, leaning his weight against you and pinning you to the bed. A bit selfishly, he took the opportunity to press his chest to yours, his hips to yours, to root himself that much deeper into you. It was paradise, the way you clung to him. He could only wonder why he didn’t realize how precious you were sooner.

“Easy,” he repeated, more breathlessly. “Would you rather I restrain you?”

The clawing stopped immediately. After a moment, he felt you shake your head.

“And you don’t want to end up hurting yourself, now, do you?”

Another shake, this one more trepid than the first.

“Then listen to me.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, careful not to raise his voice. “Make all the noise you want, but don’t scream. I’m not afraid of seeking out more permanent solutions.”

That was enough to get you to stop moving entirely. He held you close for a second, then another, before pulling away. True to your word (or lack thereof), you kept quiet, catching your bottom lip in your teeth and shutting your eyes so tightly, he could almost believe you no longer cared to look at him. With an airy laugh, he rested a hand next to your head and started to move.

It was your first time. It had to be. If you’d had any experience at all, you wouldn’t have responded to every slow, sentimental thrust with such adorable squeaking, wouldn’t have clung to the sheets with such a heartbreaking desperation. With your compliance ensured, he tried to be delicate, to give you time to adjust, but you made it difficult not to seek out the reactions you seemed so ready to provide. You made it hard not to use more force than he should’ve, not to root himself deeper than he should’ve, not to grind and rut and fuck like some drooling animal, caught up in its own heat. He could tell you were trying to ignore him, but even that had to break, eventually; your hands shooting to his shoulders as he lost his pace, your nails digging into his skin as he found something more substantial, something bordering on rabid. This time, he welcomed your violence. It was the least he could do, to help ground his distraught little love.

“You’re going to stay here.” He didn’t realize he’d meant to say anything aloud until he heard his own voice, low and drawn-out, playing just above your miserable whines and pleasured moans. “You’ll never have to leave. You’ll belong here. You already belong with me.”

“I don’t—”

“You won’t have a choice,” he assured, the comfort in his voice thick and prone to clotting. “Not after tonight.”

He watched horror flash across your expression, then something else, something he couldn’t quite name. It didn’t matter. His lips were already crashing into yours, dragging you into a kiss put off for far, far too long. Light flashed behind his eyes, and some unnamable tether drawn taut inside of him finally snapped. With his hips pressed flush to yours, he stilled and came undone. You followed a moment later, milking him for all he had.

For minutes, it was all he could do to stay trapped there; your warm body pressed into his, your stifled crying the only sound filling the empty space. When he did break from his trance, it was with an airy laugh, a brush of his cheek against yours before he dipped lower, taking shelter in the crook of your neck. Whether or not you could hear him was irrelevant. You’d have plenty of time to listen, from now on.

“You’re going to be a perfect mother.”

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

ITS HIM!! MY BOY

LAURANCE ZVAHL’S REDESIGN IS HERE

i’ve been so excited to post this you have no idea

important notes and headcanons:

first and foremost, when Cadenza went missing so did his style. she would usually help him pick out his outfits and when she wasn’t around to help him, he just grabbed whatever he had lying around regardless of if it matched or not.

when cadenza dyed his hair back to its “natural” color it was a shade or 2 too light so as time goes on you can see it grow out.

he likes having somewhat long hair because he can put it in a pony tail and braid it an stuff.

-this next one is pretty intense so fair warning-

so when he was transformed into a shadow knight, he never technically died. he was grabbed and the shadow lord instructed gene to have him brought to the ritual table and turned. because most shadow knights are transformed before being resurrected, they don’t feel anything. laurance, however, was very aware. he could feel his soul being split in half, his bones breaking and mending themselves, his teeth sharpening, his eyes enhancing. he felt every inch of it and could do nothing to stop it. sasha is still haunted by his screams.

the only thing that got him through his time in the nether and prevented him from being corrupted by gene was that he needed to make sure aphmau was ok and that she made it home safely.

when garroth first saw laurance after he’d been rescued by ungrth, he was sure he was looking at a ghost for a split second.

laurance writes poetry in his free time, sometimes reciting it to cadenza to ask her opinion. it’s usually not great….

when laurance was about 9, both his parents died to to illness. he was forced to the streets and had to resort to stealing. he had been doing this for a couple years when one fateful day he tried stealing some bread from a little girl he’d never seen in town before. she caught him and cheerfully brought him to her fathers asking “can we keep him??” that girl was cadenza.

he hates wearing armor. it’s heavy and clunky and loud. he much prefers to wear normal street clothes much to garroth’s disapproval.

he loves cooking and does all the cooking in the guard station. he’s pretty good at it too.

he has nightmares due to his time in the nether. sometimes he’ll yelp or scream out. whenever this happened while he was living in the guard station, garroth would come into his room to pull him out of it and comfort him after he came to. garroth got hit a lot as a result. gar never minded but laurance still feels guilty.

the darkness on his fingers is due to being only half a shadow knight. the longer a shadow knight lives, the further up the darkness creeps, only stopping once the calling is answered (if you know what i mean) or until it reaches the shoulders/hips.

the tattoo on his palms are the source of all his shadow knight abilities and the scars on his face enhance them.

so… in this universe aaron is not alina’s father… it’s laurance….! he found out about aphmau’s pregnancy the same way he did in canon only this time he didn’t leave out of anger or betrayal. it was because the calling was becoming too much to handle. he loves aphmau so much but as long as the shadow lord lived he would only be able to see her with an ancient hatred in his bones. he feared he’d hurt her or their child so he left for their safety.

aphmau never knew that he knew about their child, but when she went to the nether to find him, he asked her name.

his shadow knight armor isn’t… armor…. it’s more like a shell, designed to look as intimidating as possible and be as sharp as possible. it materializes whenever his shadow knight form pops out or whenever his body thinks he’s in need of protection.

once when aphmau was trying to pull him out of his shadow form she cut her hand on it. she has a scar from it and he can’t look at it without feeling guilty.

every so often his vision goes. usually when he’s extremely angry or stressed his vision will just. go. it normally only lasts a few seconds or minutes but each time it happens he can’t help but think “this is it. this is when my vision is taken from me once and for all.”

alrighty! that’s all i have for now! i’m sorry i know that was a lot but i just love this guy so much you don’t understand 😭 i hope you enjoyed and feel free to add any more larry headcanons you have

next up is very talented seamstress

[riddle-me-ri]

Hi, I'm a big of your writing and wanted to request something please. How would the different Riddler react to the reader dying in their arms, possibly due to the work of another villain or saving Ed from and accident. I'd also love to see this for the different hatters and scarecrows but if that's too much to ask I totalumderstanding.

Thank you very much, please keep writing your amazing stuff 😁😁😁

a/n: oohh angst I love it! I can most certainly do that for you! I will say that is a lot to ask in one post lol, but I will do the Riddlers since it’s been a hot minute, and I may continue and do the rest of the dork squad when I get the chance or if someone requests it. Also I left most of how the injuries were sustained up in the air, so you could imagine what caused them. I’m glad you’ve been enjoying my writin💚

Content Warning: death mention…multiple times, a wee mention of violence, and some blood/gore mentions, and heavy angst.

The Riddlers React to Reader Dying in Their Arms

Arkhamverse Riddler:

Much like most everything else, he's absolutely in denial. 

You're already gone but in his panic he believes shaking you will jolt you back to life. 

For a moment his mind clears and he tries to patch you up, tries CPR, tries anything…

But there's no denying it…you're gone and all he can do is just hold you. 

Edward has promised himself early on in his childhood to no longer cry for anything or anyone. 

But no one else is there to stop the flow as he clings to your lifeless body. 

And unfortunately for Edward there's no one else to blame…

Reevesverse/Dano Riddler: 

Edward is hyperventilating through the mask. 

He was always afraid of this. 

From the moment he let you step foot in his life as the Riddler.

Edward is doing what he can to patch up your gunshot wound.

But there’s so much blood, like it was one of his crime scenes. 

Your pained screams rang in his ear. 

The only thing that was louder was the heavy silence that fell in the room when you were gone. 

Gotham Riddler:

No…no…NO…NO…NO!

He WON’T LOSE YOU!

He CAN’T LOSE YOU!!

Edward tries to mend your wounds.

He shakes his head as you tell him goodbye, to find someone else.

He shakes his head, he knows that no matter how hard he may look, even if he did.

There would never be anyone compared to you.

BTAS Riddler:

Edward is in a state of sheer panic. 

He’s cradling you while trying to think of a solution. 

The ambulance is on it’s way but not nearly quick enough.

He tries to make you comfortable as possible, trying to stop the blood. 

Your breaths are choppy and every exhale was getting shorter. 

All he can think of to do is tell you he loves you over and over. 

You tell him you love him too before you pass. 

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

Somewhat like Arkham Riddler, he’s in denial.

For once, his ego doesn’t get in the way. 

He doesn’t care how it looks when he falls to his knees next to your limpless body.

He doesn’t care that his clothes are being stained in blood. 

Edward was used to bouncing back whenever he faced any shortcomings…

But he doubt there was any coming back from this.

The one person who tolerated him long enough to see past his persona was gone.

TWOJAR Riddler:

Edward is frozen; as if time stood still.

He saw the fear and pain in your eyes as the knife that was driven into you slowly pulled out of your body.

It wasn’t until your body fell that Edward found the momentum to run towards you.

The assailant is gone, but Edward is more concerned about you.

Your body convulses as you struggle to breath, choking on your own blood.

He calls out your name, begging you to calm down, that everything will be okay.

Before you die, you hear a soft choked whisper; “I’m sorry.”

Gotham City Sirens Riddler:

This is what he feared the most. 

When you began dating him, he was always worried about his work catching up to you and him.

For once, he loathed how he was right all the damn time. 

He’s instantly trying to heal you, but you keep asking him to stop with your dying breath.

You just want him to listen…something he often struggled with.

You ask him not to live in regret, that this is what you wanted, and that it’s not his fault. 

Edward nods understandingly, before you die and small tears begin to fall.

Telltale Riddler: 

Edward wasn’t scared much of anything…but this was his worst nightmare.

He’s torn between going after the person who did this or staying by your side. 

When you call to him, that answers the question for him. 

He can heal you–He WILL heal you. 

But you have to be strong, you have to hang on, you have to stay with him…

Yet, Ed can’t deny your body going cold and your heartbeat slowing down to a stop.

He whispers quiet apologies before reaching and closing your eyelids so you can rest in peace.

Young Justice Riddler:

Eddie is an absolute mess.

He’s fighting back tears, but they still fall continuously past his eyes.

His voice cracks even more as he begs you to hang in there. 

He scrambles to get an aid kit, to stop the bleeding and try to get your breathing regulated.

Deep down he’s kicking himself, maybe if he was more competent you didn’t need to come in and save him.

Your trying to reassure him, that no matter what everything will be okay…

But nothing is okay when your eyes close and your head rolled back.

Hush (DCAU) Riddler:

For once Ed wished he would go instead. 

He’s the one with cancer, he’s bound to die.

He’s more than willing to go if it meant you got to stay.

Edward knew you wouldn’t agree, but none of that matters now as you’re slowly fading. 

No matter how hard Ed tried to rack his brain on how to save you, he knew all he could really do was make you comfortable.

He tries to appear strong for you, as you two share sweet memories and sweet nothings. 

At least he was able to be with you for those final moments before being dragged back to Arkham.

[balkanradfem]

Mending a bag with a broken zipper

So if you've never replaced a broken zipper, it might seem like a daunting task, but it's actually very easy. I've only done it once, on a jacket, with no tutorial, and it worked perfectly, and looked awesome. So I am very confident I can do it right.

The scariest part is just removing the old zipper. It feels wrong to rip your garment or bag apart, especially if you don't feel like you're capable of putting it back together, but one needs to keep in mind that the garment can't be used unless you do it, and this is for the best.

(My gardening bag, made out of canvas, has 7 pockets, but the main zipper stopped working.)

First thing to do is to see if you have a good zipper to use as a replacement. Zippers are actually expensive to buy, but you can easily accumulate tons of them by simply removing the zippers from old pieces of clothing you no longer want. I also get clothing from other people who don't want it, and if it's completely ungiftable and useless, I will cut out all of the zippers, elastics, buttons and any decorative stuff that could potentially be used elsewhere. That's why I have a good collection of free zippers! Here's what I found I could use:

I've decided on the lowest, black zipper, just because it was the smallest and I wouldn't have to cut much off, I can use the bigger zippers for bigger projects. I don't care what color it is, as long as it works. I was also contemplating using a fun green color for the project, to highlight that it was a mend and to make the bag more colorful, but the brown thread was so perfectly suited for the bag, I ended up going with the more boring option.

Now how to get the zipper off? I turned the bag inside out to see better how it's connected. I needed to find the thread that connects it to the outside of the bag, and you see that light thread at the edge between the bag and the zipper?

That's whats holding it together. So I cut that thread and started picking it off, and once you manage to rip a few seams, the zipper starts to separate and come off. Sometimes violence can work in this situation, if you have a very sturdy fabric, you can just pull them apart. But in my case, the inner lining is pretty fragile and was starting to tear when I pulled hard, so I just patiently cut it off little by little. Seam ripper would work great in this situation, but I don't have one so I just made it work with scissors.

And the zipper came out! Here's a comparison from old zipper to new, new is slightly bigger but it won't be a problem, bigger zippers can always be trimmed. You can also see how the zipper was connected to the canvas fabric on the outer side, and there's also lining fabric on the inside that's now loose. So far so good!

Now is the part where potential mistakes are possible; I need to remember that the bag is inside out, so the opening part of the zipper needs to be facing inwards, and it also needs to go the direction all other zippers on the bag are going (I later realized I messed this up, oops.)

I'm now lining it up with the bag, and even though usually I'm too impatient to pin stuff, I yield and acknowledge that in this situation, the zipper needs pins in order to be sewn on evenly. This is actually the part where some choices can be made; you can decide how much of the zipper will be shown outside! You can sew it on so that only the zipping part is visible from the outside, or give it a wider margin so you can see the zipper fabric too. If you're sewing with a flimsy fabric, it's best to give it a wide margin, because soft and flimsy fabrics can often get stuck in a zipper if they're sewn on too close. My canvas fabric cannot get stuck, so I'm pinning it pretty close, but later in the process I did give it a bit more of a margin, because it 'felt right'.

I've started sewing it on!

So about the edges, if your zipper doesn't have a stopper there, or if it's too long and you've cut the edge off, you need to sew the both sides together, so that the zip cannot zoom over the edge and fall out. This is something I've done on both sides, to make sure it's secure, and it doesn't need to be tidy, only very firm and impossible to break apart. I'm hand-sewing it with a continuous stitch, which is very easy and it looks nice enough. At this point I completely neglected the lining and I'm just sewing it onto the outer fabric, but this is okay, I decided it was easier to ignore the lining for now, and just focus on making sure it looks nice from the outside.

Here you can see me stitching all the way to the other side, and again firmly stitching the both sides of the zipper together, so they can't break apart. Then I turned the bag back from inside out, to see how it looked on the outer side, and it looks good, this isn't professionally made, but it looks well done! I decided to then pin and stitch the other part while having the bag turned correctly, so I could see exactly what I was doing from the outside, while again, ignoring the lining.

And now the outside part is completely done! It looks so good, partly because the bag is a little faded, but the zipper looks new and well preserved, so this is like an upgrade for her. Here I'm now turning it again inside out, to fix what I've ignored before; the length of the zipper, and the inner lining.

I finally cut off the extra length, it's already sewn up and I'm happy with it, so I'm sure I can safely cut off the extra. On the second to last picture you can see the lining is all over the place and not even reaching the zipper, that's completely fine because I can easily stitch it to the zipper in about 3 minutes. It would have been a nightmare trying to stitch it all in one go and constantly worrying if both the lining and the outer canvas are in the correct position, this way I had an easy time stitching it to the canvas, and only a few minutes of easy extra stitching to make sure lining is all connected. I only pierced the zipper with this stitch, not all the way to the canvas, so this little fix is completely invisible and it doesn't matter if it's not the neatest.

And here we go! The bag is fully functional, completely ready to be used and enjoyed again, with her new flawless zipper, and I think this was a great way to spend an hour of my time.

[digenerate-trash]

Yoo some Apocolypse sydney faction ideas!

• The reason sydneys faction is so important is because of the books and clothes! The schools water system is too old to rely on electricity, so it's basically an unlimited but controlled recourse. But it didn't take long for the electricity to go out, removing the schools lighting and heating/ac entirely. Thanks to windows being dangerous, places with lots of them are considered either dangerous or are covered up so that the turrets aren't alerted. That leaves everywhere really dark (how rogue kylar lives. Bitch can see in the dark and sleeps in lockers) and very cold at night. That's where sydney comes in- before the apocalypse, he already had the keys to the school and the library due to coming in and leaving late to open and close it, and he keeps them extremely close. His books and even his clothes are used as tinder for both lighting and heat, which is essential, although he is extremely stingy- he chooses what books are allowed to be burned, and his lambs are punished if they burn books friviously, and he also drives a hard bargain. His main import is water- one full bucket in exchange for 3 books, and a 3 days rations for clothes. People mostly use clothes as replacements if theirs are too damaged (they usually pay robin a ration of water to mend clothes, but sometimes they are unable to.) And as mostly bedding these days, due to how limited the resource is.

• The library itself is locked at almost all times, making it impenetrable. It's very dark, and almost fully silent. People sleep on clothing beds between the library's aisles, and sydney's quarters are behind his counter, where he has his chair covered with clothes as a bed and the under counter where he keeps his favorite books. The changing room is mostly storage, but also where he punishes his straying flock.

• Sydney is extremely strict with his sheep, and keeps his group extremely small and close. You have to prove to him you belong, and if you mess up, he punishes you in the churchly fashion- pain. Fire is the only good method for it. If you act out minorly, he puts the fire close to your skin and let's it redden and become painful, but if you steal or betray him.. you are burnt and cast out into the rest of the School with a brand. It's why it's so hard to get spies into his faction- hard to tolerate without the proper conditioning that his loyal flock receives. You get bedding and good food and water, but you have to lose your individuality- you have to follow every rule- you have to lose all contact with the outside population. While most students outside of this faction have given up on staying clean, Sydney demands it- it's why he trades for so much water. All of his children and himself are as clean as possible given the circumstances- hair brushed, washed and combed through in the bucket, and bodies washed of any blood or grime. If you try and sequestered water or stay unwashed, you are punished. Yes I like giving them a god complex </33

• When you're sent out to trade with the rest of the School, you are not allowed to speak. A piece of paper covers your face with the resource you're trading, and it's impossible to tell who you are. It's both isolating and it keeps you safe- Whitney can't target you personally when all of you look the same, when they can't even hear your voice. They also have a dress code- plain grey School Cardigan, and long black school skirt/pants. All in the name of avoiding vanity and keeping safe and anonymous for Sydney.

I imagine being sydneys favorite sheep in the herd would be rather suffocating> :3c

- Dolbog! (Will be making ocs for this au)

OMG EVERYONE FUCKING LOOK

I gotta say I love it when yall contribute to my whack ideas-

Sydney facing into his deepest religious teachings to keep himself safe crating structure for his faction as well as making a system that ensures he's safe as well.

Also sydney making sure that paper over the face to hide identities is smart.

Plus you know that if you're sydneys favourite little lamb you're kept so far away from the rest of the rifraff.

[ember-owlet]

Hi hi :]] I practically did a little happy dance seeing blue eye samurai in your fandom list !

It's super easy for me to see Mizu as a regressor due to various reasons, particularly involuntarily! (And they very much deserve to catch up on their childhood)

So I think the formal request would be a headcanon post ! 👀 it doesn't have to be specifically regressor Mizu if you don't see her in that light /gen :]

I'm just happy someone else in this little corner of agere internet shares one of my interests !! ✨️🌿

a/c : hello!! aaa i'm ecstatic to know that you also enjoy blue eye samurai with an agere lens! despite the show's brutality, there are some really good nuggets of baby content to be found. i'd be happy to write some regressor! mizu headcanons for you as its about time i wrote something for them. and don't worry, i see her in the same light as well! feel free to send me your own personal thoughts on the characters/show to discuss as i'm thrilled to be in this corner of the agere internet with you friend. enjoy the headcanons! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ disclaimer! i do use primarily feminine terms when referring to mizu (they/she), but i do acknowledge that there are many interpretations of pronouns/gender identities to refer to the character as, and i find them wonderful! /gen

dynamic: regressor! mizu

content warnings: mentions of vent regression due to trauma, physical/mental anguish, light mentions of gender dysphoria ((stay safe little firelights, you can always come back to this when you're ready))

mizu has always been a trauma regressor to me, especially due to their lack of dealing with their feelings head on. their body would have to nearly force them to stop and take a break from their revenge mission and focus on recovering.

the first time she regressed would be terrifying to her, the feeling of being so out of control and helpless would make her hide away to try to push herself out of it as fast as possible.

it would take an incredible amount of time and trust developed before she felt safe around someone to tell, let alone show such a vulnerable state.

the select characters that i could realistically see her regressing around would be sword father or ringo.

if she were to regress voluntarily it would be to have the childhood that she wished she could have, one where she wasn't forced to grow up as a boy and to ease her gender dysphoria with feminine items/clothing.

she would be a very independent kiddo, not wanting to rely on others in fear that she would be an inconvenience or she would be punished for wasting someone's time after being treated as a monster for so long. if she were honest she genuinely wouldn't know how to react to such affection.

that being said, she needs gentle reassurance when in a younger state with a caregiver that helps her along the way. adding fruit/vegetables to her meals to make sure its balanced or mending their clothes would never go unnoticed and greatly appreciated.

she'd be so used to the feeling of being in pain or nauseous that she'd have a hard time differentiating pain that should be attended to or not. therefore her caregiver would need to keep an eye on her and remind her that any and all pain is worth looking at/caring for.

as a sentimental person she'd want to keep things gifted to her and wear or use them as comfort items until they physically can't be repaired anymore.

some of her favorite gifts would include free flowing or baggy clothes that she can keep close to her person for comfort.

her main comfort item is her sword, and would not be able to go anywhere or sleep without it clutched to her side as it reminds her of home and is something that she can rely on to keep her safe.

an actually extremely feral regressor as well if given the chance to be her true self (/lh /pos). i could absolutely see them wanting to play outside and then coming back home caked in mud and bruises while having the time of their life.

let her be a goofy kid!! growing up so fast from situations out of her control that she'd long for days where she'd let herself have fun.

LOVES going to the beach/aquarium. a true ocean lover whose favorite activities involve being around or in large bodies of water.

play fighting is a love language! she would love to wrestle her playmates/caregivers to see who is the strongest. as a physically stronger regressor she'd need to learn the value of her strength and to not be too rough if she were to get too excited.

they can get easily frustrated with creative tasks, and would prefer specific instruction in order to feel useful. it would make them the best helper around.

would love to play a game where they are the hero for once. (being called a monster can wear someone down mentally and it would definitely make her day to be seen as the hero of the story).

she also requires a ton of quiet time to allow her mind and body to rest. would she ever do it herself willingly is another question for another day, but she'd reluctantly do it if asked of her with sufficient gentle praise and coaxing.

as touch starved as they are, i can't see her being the one to initiate contact with someone unless the moment takes over her softer side and she can't help but wrap her arms around them or gently nudge them with her body to tell them that she's there and cares for them.

from her caregiver or those that she considers close she would accept forms of physical affection but wouldn't be too vocal on how much it means to her.

she'd believe that she'd never be able to repay her caregiver for their kindness but will continually try to find little things throughout the day to show them how grateful she is.

oddly enough i could totally see her gifting a sword to her caregiver as it is something that she believes she's good at and would work tirelessly day and night to make sure it's perfect.

despite being in a younger mindset she can and still would mean business to anyone who dares mess with her caregiver. even a baby phoenix still has talons.

[meowthiroth]

been meaning to post these here for AGES now but I keep forgetting to. explodes 💥

but ANYWAYS! i redid the ref art for my Stranger oc from Myst/Riven! and also finally got around to drawing the aged-up version I thought up for him between Myst 3 and 4.

also wrote out a sort of messy bio for him a while ago, which i'll put under the cut since it's kinda long lol

ACE

Basic info

• Born October 7, 1782. He is 24 during the events of Myst & Riven, 33 during Exile and 42 during Revelation.

• He stands about 5’6” (1.6m) and is around 120 lbs. Pretty scrawny and definitely built better for agility than physical power.

• He is transgender and uses he/him pronouns. That caused quite a few problems for him back home, given the social climate at the time. He really doesn’t like to discuss his past or his birth family & will quickly change the subject if asked.

• He's very kind, easygoing and silly, and he loves to help others. But he can also be quite scatterbrained, forgetful, and prone to emotional manipulation.

• While he can be a bit absent-minded at times, he’s actually quite intelligent & quick-thinking, and he excels at problem- and puzzle-solving. He often cracks Atrus’s puzzles within mere minutes, but then can't recall his thought process when asked how he did it.

• Most of his favorite pastimes involve creating and fixing things. For instance, he’s very skilled with a needle & thread, and he makes and mends all of his own clothes. Drawing is another big one for him— his journal contains a lot more doodles in the margins than actual writing.

• He also LOVES animals, especially frogs, reptiles and bugs. He’s good at reading animals' behavioral cues and often has an easier time gaining their trust than most people would.

Early life/childhood

• His birth family were early settlers in the Northwest Territory, moving out west with him in tow when he was just a small child & starting a homestead there. His family consisted of his father, mother, and 3 brothers- 2 older and 1 younger.

• His gender identity caused friction with his family later in his childhood, since they had assumed he was just a tomboyish child and would eventually grow out of it. Obviously, though, he never did.

• His refusal to adhere to his assigned gender eventually escalated to his parents viewing him as hysterical & mentally unwell. Things only continued to get worse as he grew older, which eventually led him to go on the run. He kept a low profile & travelled mostly on his own for years, pressing farther into uncharted territory in an attempt to get as far away from his family as possible, which was how he first stumbled across the Myst linking book.

Life with Atrus & family

• Despite everything Saavedro did at the start of Exile, Ace still finds himself understanding of the man's predicament (perhaps relating the experience to his own upbringing in an abstract sort of way), and he takes it upon himself to help him get home by any means necessary. He often wonders how things worked out for Saavedro after their encounter & genuinely wishes the best for him.

• Slight deviation from canon- After the events of Exile, Ace got so worried about someone else coming after Atrus and his family while he was gone that he insisted on staying with them to help keep an eye on things. He moved in with them in Tomahna and helped out, both with Atrus’s projects and just general home/family things. He sort of took up the role of another older brother figure to Yeesha.

• Over time, he begins to view Atrus & Catherine not just as friends, but sort of as a new, more accepting family. He's definitely slipped up & called them “mom” and “dad” by accident before. SEVERAL times. He was really embarrassed about it at first, although they weren't bothered by it.

• He and Atrus work well together! Although Ace can’t write his own Ages, he often helps test Atrus’s creations and suggests ways he could potentially improve them. His ideas tend to fall somewhere in between Atrus & Catherine in terms of realism- a little wacky but still somewhat grounded in reality. He’s also quick to remind Atrus to take breaks & not get TOO into his work.

• Ace also spends a lot of time back home with Catherine and Yeesha. He does a good job earning his keep by helping around the home, and he and Catherine often like to bounce ideas off of one another. He finds her creativity super impressive, and a favorite pastime of his is to try & draw various creatures and landscapes that she describes.

• Since he lives with the family in between Exile and Revelation, Ace learns about what happened to Atrus’s sons much earlier than in canon, and he often tags along with the family when they visit. Usually he doesn’t go visit the brothers by himself, since he isn’t sure how comfortable Atrus would be with that, but he has offered to deliver things like care packages to them before & he’ll often stop to chat with them for a while.

• Ace has sort of always felt drawn towards Achenar. Despite the older brother's obvious shiftiness, Ace couldn't help but feel bad for him. He'd actually collected every blue page and was going to free him before he was (thankfully) stopped by Atrus. Despite being made aware of the attempted trick, Ace still forgave Achenar pretty quickly after seeing how much he’d changed over the years, and now he's always eager to go visit him with the rest of the family. The two get along surprisingly well & become close friends over time, and Ace will often stay behind to talk to him long after the rest of the family decides to head home from their visits.

• Ace, however, has always gotten bad vibes from Sirrus ever since he first arrived on Myst. He already has a disdain for greedy rich-guy types, and Sirrus always struck Ace as very disingenuous and closed-off, which further limited their ability to connect on an emotional level. Deep down, though, Ace still has a soft spot for Sirrus, and often displays it by teasing him in a playful little-sibling sort of way. While Sirrus generally finds his jokes more annoying than amusing, it clearly isn’t malicious and at least breaks up some of his day-to-day tedium, so he begrudgingly tolerates it.

[spicechica]

Ernst Robinson x Fem Reader AU Part 2

“Poor girl. I couldn’t imagine a young one like her surviving in a place like this,” their mother whispers. “We supposed she must be from a previous shipwreck. But, I don’t think she has any memory of it,” replied Fritz. You stare out at the half sunken ship in the middle of the sea, feeling as if it’s history repeating itself. You, a young child, barely a teenager, washed up on this island with no memory, no knowledge, and just a large antique chest that had warped from water damage, along with a few pieces of wreckage from the ship that had washed up as well. It was a mystery though how you possibly survived. 

“Now sweetie, how long have you been here?”Their mother asked. “I don’t know…It’s hard to keep count after so long.”, “Well, do you know your age?” You shake your head in response. You knew you must have been around eight when you first washed up on the island, but with no calendar or watch you never really kept track of your age span. From the look of you though, you must have been about fourteen or fifteen, but who knows, you couldn’t even remember your own birthday if you wanted to. 

“They said you needed help…I could help you if you want.” You stutter with your words, still unsure if you should trust these people. “I say you only have a few days before that ship is gone. If you could try to collect supplies, I could help you survive.” “Yes, thank you. Boy’s come with me.” Ernst and Fritz go with their father to the ship to collect supplies while you stay back with their mother and sister. 

After a couple of hours, and a few trips back and forth from the ship, you were able to help them set up a small tent from some old wreckage and a large cloth, also starting up a fire for them to keep warm. It was strange. These people were different then you imagined, they were kind, sweet, and welcoming….a family. You forgot what that was like. 

You sigh and shake your head, you couldn’t get too soft around these people. “Thank you, for helping us today.” Ernst sits next to you, offering you a piece of fruit he collected from the ship earlier. You take the offering, but scoot away a little. “It’s a miracle you survived here for so long. How did you do it?” You stay silent for a moment until you finally respond. “Well, I didn’t do it alone.” Ernst turns his head in confusion. “When I first washed up, I had no memory of where I came from or how I got here. The only clues I had were an old chest engraved with a name, and…this.” You pull out a small gold locket from under your clothes, opening it showing an old baby photo that had slowly faded over the years. 

“I remember I cried that day. I was so young, and so clueless, I knew I wasn’t going to survive a night. In the beginning, I was just eating whatever I could find or reach. I was tired, weak, and always had to sleep on the beach because I was too afraid an animal would eat me.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Ernst said. “It was. Until, I met someone. An island folk. He was tall and dark and carried a spear on his back. I thought he would hurt me, but he didn’t seem to be bothered. He didn’t speak any English either. I remember following him everyday, watching as he caught and killed things for food, watching as he sharpened and mended his knives and spear.”

 “I then tried myself. Practicing everyday how to catch a fish without falling into the water or it slapping me in the face.” You and Ernst both chuckled. “After a while, I was able to adapt to the island and survive. I was able to build my place in the trees and hunt my own food. But soon, the man left, and I haven't seen him since.” 

“So, some mystery man you met one day helped you survive.” You nod in response. Ernst scoffed in disbelief. “I’m just surprised, girls are usually terrified and weak-” Ernst screeches as you begin to squeeze his hand with your strong grip, cutting his circulation. “OW! OW!, Okay, Okay!” Ernst gasps as you let go, watching as the color in his head turns back to normal. “I guess I was wrong.” He chuckled. 

You give him a small smile as you roll your eyes, taking another large chunk from the fruit, the juices running down the sides of your mouth. You didn’t really have any proper table manners.

*Thank you all for the love and support on my last post. I'm thinking of making this into a full fanfiction. If you have any other story ideas or headcanons my inbox is open 😊*

PART 1

[just-another-star-47]

Taking care of a friend

A pissed Leander and a caring Garreth. Just a little snippet because the more I write about them, the more I like them and their dynamic. It's probably the softest in my entire story, to be honest. 😅

-> More about them and other characters <-

Without saying a word, Leander dropped into the armchair opposite Garreth and slumped down. An abrasion ran up his right cheek to his temple, his clothes smelled scorched and his hands were shaking.

'Sebastian?' Garreth glanced over the edge of the latest issue of the  'Potion Master' and met Leander's narrowed eyes.

"Sebastian, of course. That dog sears me every time with his stupid Confringo."

'Oh, Amalia wouldn't be happy about that choice of words,' Garreth put the magazine aside and rummaged in the pocket of his waistcoat, while Leander mumbled unintelligibly and shifted in his armchair. When his friend pulled a small  vial, containing a light green liquid, out of his pocket, his eyes widened in astonishment.

'When did you brew this?'

'Right after you told me the date on which the members of the "Crossed Wands" would meet again.'

'So you assumed that I would lose again, did you?' Leander sulked, leaning back and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

'Even winners suffer injuries,' Garreth tried to reassure him with a sigh.

'Not Sallow.'

Leander stared almost hostilely at the vial of healing essence Garreth patiently held out to him.

"I can't take this. Otherwise the others will make fun of the fact that I can't stand pain."

With another sigh, his friend put the potion back in his pocket and pulled a small bag onto his lap instead.

'You really don't think it's possible for me to come back without injury, I see,' Leander slid closer despite his disapproving words, 'but I'll beat Sallow eventually, I guarantee it!'

Garreth did not reply, focussing instead on treating the graze of the still sulking man.

Ever since the first duel between the Gryffindor and Slytherin student, in which the former had suffered a nasty laceration and burns, Garreth had made it his business to keep the doctor's bag well stocked. Even then, his  childhood friend had refused to be healed with magic of any kind. Whether he wanted to prove something to himself or to Sebastian remained unclear.

When Leander began to talk at length about the duel and his approach, Garreth only kept humming in confirmation as he dabbed dirt and blood from the pale skin and carefully applied an ointment. He had long since realised that Leander was by no means bad. The repeated questions from Lucan about training together were proof enough. And yet he knew that his friend would vehemently disagree with his view until he had defeated Sebastian Sallow.

'It's not that I wasn't able to block the spell,' Leander continued to huff as Garreth mended the sleeve of his shirt, 'I just think that even in a duel there should be a trace of chivalry.'

Garreth couldn't help but grin. Perhaps he shouldn't have encouraged his friend to read adventure novels with him back when their were children.

'Done'; he placed the arm with the now mended fabric in Leander's lap and leaned comfortably back  to listen to the last details of the report.

The 'Potion Master' could wait.

[circle--of--confusion]

Wanna Bewitch You In The Moonlight

Another Dracopia fic with my OC Sarah! This one got away form me oh boy. I hope y'all enjoy!

Summary: Copia and Sarah have spent so much time together but they are always either too tired or keep getting interrupted when they try to take things further and have their first time having sex as a couple. What are you to do when both of your jobs are very important?

[This takes place right after the first fic "The Cardinal and the Seamstress" but before Terzo and my OC Amelia have got back together for their story]

This can be read on it's own for the most part, but here is my origional fic for them if you haven't read it and want to lol.

Words: 10.7k

Read On AO3

MASTERLIST

Warnings/Tags: explicit/18+, established relationship, dracopia, flashbacks, so much neck kissing wow!, first times as a couple, blood drinking, fluff, smut [vaginal fingering, oral sex [f receiving], hand job, vaginal sex]

There’s a bundle of fabric on Sarah’s desk when she walks in to the studio on Monday morning. Her eyebrows knit together as she walks closer to inspect the pile. Shirts? Alex and Amelia, fellow co-worker and boss [though she considers them to be friends too], walk in after her to their desks that also have piles of fabric.

“Oh!” Amelia calls over to Sarah once she realizes Sarah is at a loss for what to do. “You haven’t been here long enough to experience this!” Amelia walks over to Sarah’s desk, giddy. “Every few weeks we have clothes delivered to the sewing department that need to be repaired or mended. Or sometimes straight up re-made if they’re that attached to the style.”

Alex looks up from his desk where he’s sorted the clothes based on what needs more effort and less effort. “Copia’s suits took priority so this is your first time, awwww.” He responds playfully. Sarah rolls her eyes.

Amelia jumps in. “Which means, we get to play my favorite game… drumroll please, Alex!” Alex taps his hands on the desk rapid-fire then stops and they both yell simultaneously like game show hosts. “Lust! Or! Wrath!”

Her eyes go wide and she laughs. “What?”

Amelia’s back to her desk and sits down. “I noticed when I’d been working here for a bit, that most of our mending is sewing buttons to go back on shirts. This made me have two thoughts. One: I should consider snaps in the future. And two: is this a frustrated clergy member or a sexually frustrated clergy member’s shirt?” Her eyebrows comedically rise a couple times. She sighs with a hand wave. “It helped to pass the time.”

“Depending on the time of the year, we have a lot to fix.” Alex chimes in from his spot, already meticulously stitching on a button. He stops to look up at Amelia, pointing off in the distance in thought. “Do you remember The Great Valentines Fabric Massacre of 2015?”

Amelia shudders. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I swear, my hands were cramped for a week!” She groans.

Sarah nods and sits down at her desk. “Well, I guess I’ll uh, get to work!” She looks over the stack and finds a pair of pants, a handful of button ups, and a couple habits that need their hems fixed from dragging on the ground. Over the next half hour the trio work in silence, the only sounds in the room coming from either their exasperation when the thread comes loose from the needle eye or the sounds of their scissors snipping thread. Sarah’s eyes drift occasionally to her bag where her personal mending project lies at the bottom of her bag. Maybe she can find a way to throw it onto her desk without drawing attention. Alex and Amelia can be nosy.

Her hands drift down to grab the shirt from her bag and she flinches when Amelia cackles. “Look here, I have a shirt from Cardinal Alister and Cardinal Brian.” She looks up with a knowing smirk.

Alex gasps. “Good for them. I know Cardinal Brian just got out of a rough break-up and I heard rumblings of a possible date between those two the other day.” He tilts his head, smiling.

Sarah is almost done dragging her shirt into her lap when Amelia breaks her focus. “Speaking of dates… How did your big date with Copia go, Sarah?” she looks directly at Sarah who is blushing a deep shade of red while her shirt is caught halfway between her bag and the desk. Amelia smiles like a cheshire cat. “I can assume it went well?”

Caught red-handed. “Y-Yeah. It went, uh, well.” Sarah mumbles out.

◊◊◊◊◊

11 DAYS EARLIER

Sarah woke up snuggled against Copia’s body, his arm is wrapped around her stomach. They fell asleep spooning, the adrenaline and energy draining from her the moment they got back to his room after his first Ritual as head of the Ghost Project. She expected they would’ve been able to stay awake to talk about the experience but the moment she laid down in his arms, a yawn betrayed her and she was a goner. The last thing Sarah remembers from last night before she fell into a deep sleep was the feeling of Copia’s lips in her hair and a soft whisper of “goodnight, Sarah.”

Sarah’s dreams, however, were very active. Her inner most desires while she slept helped to fill in the blanks of what she wished they could’ve done last night. She now knows what his mouth feels like on her and where his hands like to roam. It’s plagued her mind since their date and lazy day together a handful of days ago. She dreamt of what it might feel like with him kissing other parts of her body without her clothes getting in the way. Would his lips linger on her chest? Sarah wonders if he would grab her thighs or hips to hold her in place.

She imagines his fangs would find a way to poke out, an involuntary reaction in his lust-fueled mission to ravish her body. Dream Copia had a particularly enjoyable time kissing her above and below. His hands caressed her body, one on her thigh and the other on her hip as he licked and sucked at her most sensitive parts. And deep down at the very bottom of her mind, she wants to experience Copia drinking her blood again. It’s always on the forefront when he kisses her neck.

She feels a growing desire in her, now fully awake and tingling. Sarah can still feel his hands from her mind, no wait, his hands are actually lightly dragging along her left side while she lays on her right in front of him. Her eyes fully open, taking in her surroundings; Copia’s body is pressed close to her back.

Copia hums. “Good morning, amore. Are you finally awake?” He whispers, lightly kissing the top of her shoulder. His left hand that was trailing up and down her side rests on Sarah’s hip.

She turns around to her left side to face Copia and hums her response. Her right hand moves up to hold his face while she leans forward to kiss him good morning. His mouth tastes faintly of copper and apple juice? “You were amazing last night, Copia.”

He smirks. “I was hoping you would be able to say that about more than just my singing when you woke up this morning.”

Sarah blushes. “I’m sorry for falling asleep.”

He shrugs his left shoulder. “It’s probably better for us that you got your rest.” His hand, previously on her hip, snakes it’s way behind her back and he rolls her over, pinning her to the bed on her back while he hovers over her body. “But! I have you now for a few minutes at least before you have to go off to work. Lucky me, I finally get a break from everything today.” He kisses Sarah’s lips softly before starting a trail down to her neck where he stops to suck and nibble lightly on the healed flesh from where he drank her blood a few days prior.

Sarah’s hand grips into his hair, holding him in and encouraging him to keep his lips there. Copia gladly complies, groaning when she scratches lightly on his scalp. He moves to settle between her spreading legs, one arm holding him up while his other roams up and down her side squeezing slightly at her hips. Sarah softly squeals and wiggles in her spot under Copia’s hold. His ministrations on her neck have turned from light nips to determined kisses. She feels a light poke of his teeth on the sensitive flesh, aware his fangs have introduced themselves to the situation. She smiles and her fingers in Copia’s hair tug lightly. “Copia…” She rasps, leaning her neck over to give his mouth more room to roam.

He hums a breathy “Sarah…” in response. He feels overcome with a growing lust at her scent, his hips begin to roll against her body on their own volition as he grows in arousal. Copia breathes heavily against her neck, intoxicated by her presence.

Sarah is lost in their hazy moment of groping and kissing. A part of her realizes she needs to get up soon and get ready for work but then she gets lost again in the weight of Copia’s body on hers and the way he’s moving over her. His fangs drag lightly on her neck, teasing, making sure not to puncture the skin. She’s also now aware of the hardening bulge down below between Copia’s legs as he rolls against her. It thrills her to know he’s as desperate for her as she is for him. “Oh, Copia… I need you.” she sighs. “Please.”

He nods against her neck and pulls her closer to him. “Me too, amore.” Copia moves up to look into her eyes. “I would love to-“

♫ You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life! Oohhhh ♫

Copia’s eyes shoot wide open. “Shit! My alarm!” He scrambles off of Sarah to grab his phone and ends up falling off the bed onto his back on the floor. He rushes to stand up and walks over to his phone on the nightstand to turn off the intrusion. Copia slaps his hand over his face, rubbing slightly. “Ugh, I just remembered that I have a meeting today with Sister Imperator and I need to brief the ghouls of last night’s ritual.” He looks over to Sarah on his bed and she hums as her only response. Her eyes are distracted by something and when he follows the line, it’s to the very obvious tenting in his sweatpants while he stands in front of her.

She giggles, her eyes locked across the room at his crotch. “Okay.” When Sarah looks up at Copia’s face, he looks exasperated.

“Really?” He asks.

She puts her hands in her face and shakes it before putting them back down. “It looked at me first!” She yells and Copia scoffs. “It’s distractingly big and very obvious, Copia! What was I supposed to do? Not look at it?” She sees his eyes flare when she says ‘big’ and stalks closer to her, tilting his head.

“This is what you do to me, dolcezza.” he pouts. “And then you torture me by laughing?”

Sarah’s hands rise to touch up his stomach to his chest over his shirt and Copia flinches slightly from the contact. “What are you going to do? Punish me?” She smiles seductively.

♫ Mama Mia, here I go again! My, my, how can I resist you? ♫

He groans. Very fitting Sarah thinks.

“Well not now.” he rolls his eyes. “I really need to get ready for the day now and you, my amore, need to get to work.” He kisses the top of her head and leans down to her ear. “You better go before I change my mind.” Copia smiles, gives Sarah a peck on the cheek, and turns to the bathroom to shower.

She stands, flustered, and gathers herself to leave so she can get ready for work. As she walks out of his room, Sarah can hear faint whistling echoing from behind the bathroom door. She laughs and closes the front door of his room behind her.

For the entire day, Sarah had “Dancing Queen” stuck in her head.

◊◊◊◊◊

When he saw Sarah that evening to have dinner, they didn’t speak of what had happened this morning. She greeted him like normal, a quick kiss on the lips, and walked inside to sit down on the couch. She’s asked what movie they would watch after eating and he responded without missing a beat. He couldn’t help but notice, though, that she looked a bit flushed upon walking in and jumped a couple times when he placed a hand on her to cuddle on the couch. They may not have spoken about what happened this morning, but the knowledge of it just sorta floated in the air.  

The next couple nights went along much smoother. Some of the tension in the air had dissipated and now the two are cuddling on his couch with an old movie playing on his box tv. Eventually the movie became ignored by the couple as they were more into focusing on each other. Sarah had initiated first by looking up at him halfway through the movie and placed a small kiss on the underside of his jaw. He leaned his head back as she continued to plant small kisses on Copia’s neck and one thing led to another. Sarah moved to sit in his lap to straddle him. Her hand holds onto the back of his head while the other rubs lightly on his chest. Copia’s hands have planted themselves on her waist. She adjusts herself to be flush with his body, not feeling like she’s close enough.

“Mmm, amore, you seem very determined tonight.” Copia moans, leaning his neck further to the side to give Sarah more access as she alternates kissing his lips or his neck. He feels her teeth bite down slightly and he whimpers. The sensations of Sarah’s mouth on his neck and exploring hands on his chest are being sent straight down to his dick. If he doesn’t get relief soon, he just might explode. He hasn’t had time to bring up the other morning so they can see where things might’ve gone. Sarah giggles into his neck before she leans back to look into his eyes. Her lips are puffy from the kisses and her pupils are blown wide open from lust for him. He thinks she looks divine.

“I can’t help it. You are way more interesting than the movie.” She smiles. He leans up to share a short kiss.

“Would you like to move things to the bedroom?” Copia teases, rubbing his thumb on her waist. “I feel like we have some uh, unfinished business from the other day...” He smirks.

Sarah smiles and nods rapidly. “I would lo-“

A loud trio of bangs on his door breaks their bubble. Copia knits his eyebrows together, getting up when Sarah moves off his lap. He walks awkwardly, shifting his half-hard dick in his sweats so he doesn’t scare whoever is at the door. A couple more impatient knocks bang on his door before Copia can get it open.

“Papa?” Copia gasps. Secondo is standing at his door, scowling. “What are you- I mean why are you..?”

“I found this,” he holds up his cupped hands “,roaming around in my record collection. She was nibbling on my mint condition Abba records.” Secondo holds up one of Copia’s rats.

He gasps. “My baby!” Copia quickly moves to grab at the small animal, softly scolding her. “Mi dispiace, Papa. I hadn’t realized she got free.”

Papa grumbles. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He bows his head slightly. “Goodnight.”

Copia nodded his head quickly as Secondo walked away. He nudged the door closed and made quick work of putting his mini escape artist back in her cage, double checking the lock, and then walked out to the living room. Sarah has stood up and looks like she’s ready to go back to her room.

“Are you leaving?” Copia asks, pleading for her to stay.

Sarah sighs. “I should probably head out. We’re in the thick of it with sewing your suits at the studio. I need to make sure I’m rested so I don’t make any mistakes.”

He looks down, defeated. Copia walks over to Sarah and leans down for a goodnight kiss. She chases his lips briefly when they part. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Sarah nods. “Of course.”

◊◊◊◊◊

“What cosmic entity out there keeps cock-blocking you two with Abba?” Alex remarks.

“I don’t know! I like Abba, too.” Sarah huffs.

She feels pent up. Five days have passed by since Copia’s ritual and they still haven’t found a way to consummate the occasion. At least not together. Her entire life has been consumed by her Copia this week but she hasn’t had time to be with him in person long enough to take the next step in their relationship. It’s not like he’s lounging around eating bon-bons, either. They exchange quick texts throughout the day, in-between sewing breaks and meetings or rehearsals. He sounds just as desperate as she is.

-----

Copia 2:35pm

My love, how are you this afternoon? I ache to see you once again and have you in my arms. I’ve been feeling like a coil that’s been wound tight.

Sarah 2:44pm

Me too. I’ve had to uh, take care of myself on my own, if you catch my drift.

Copia 2:46pm

Oh? Amore you can’t get me so riled up at a time like this. I’m rehearsing with the ghouls right now. They can smell when I’m horny and they say it’s not a great sight.

Sarah 2:47pm

So I shouldn’t tell you all about how I used my fingers on me as if they were yours? ;)

Copia 2:49pm

You should. In great detail, actually! Though, I am a visual and hands-on learner…

Sarah 2:50pm

I’ll keep that in mind.

Copia 2:52pm

You are so cruel me, Sarah. This rehearsal is not going to go well and it will be all your fault. ;)

-----

Later that evening, she’s the last to leave the studio and locks up. She notices something in the corner of her eye but when Sarah looks up to see, it’s gone. She moves on further down the hall shaking her head. A trick of the light she thinks. A woosh of air passes behind her and she’s grabbed from behind, a sturdy arm snakes around her waist to pull her snug to their chest. The other arm rises to put their hand on her chin, holding her in place.

“Did you think you could tease me like that earlier today and get away with it?” A husky voice whispers into her ear.

Copia Sarah realizes. She takes a breath. “Are you going to do anything about it?”

Copia nuzzles onto the side of her face. “I am, dolcezza.” He walks them over to an alcove down at the end of the hallway. “Though I’m not sure if I have the patience to start until we get to my room.” She gasps.

She’s turned around and Copia captured her lips with a furious kiss; it’s full of passion and urgency. She hums into his mouth and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Sarah’s tongue pokes over to his lips, asking to deepen the kiss. She feels his fangs on her tongue and gasps as he opens his mouth wider; they drag along once he begins to mouth down her jaw. He breathes in a deep breath before pulling away. Sarah takes a step back, hitting the hard brick of the wall behind her. Copia leans down to kiss her neck, inhaling a deep breath at her scent. One of Sarah’s hands holds his head in place and the other holds his side. He presses his body into Sarah’s, trapping her against the wall. Some of his frustration feels like it’s dissipated by being able to hold her. His frantic movements become still with the feeling of her body on his.

“I missed this. Missed You.” Copia mumbles into her neck. His hands hold Sarah in place by her hips. “My room stopped smelling like you yesterday.” He shudders out a sigh.

For a moment the pair simply hold each other, enjoying the feel of their lover’s body in their hands. They’ve both been stressed and over-worked and this brief moment of peaceful silence feels like a gift from the Lucifer himself.

“Copia.” Sarah whispers. “Let’s go back to your room now, hm?”

He leans back to look at her, gazing sleepily into her eyes. “That is music to my ears, amore.” He smiles and grabs her hand, pulling her away and down in the direction of his room. “And I should know!”

They’re excited, giggling away when a voice calls down the hall. “Oh, Cardinal! Do you have a word?” Copia and Sarah stop in their tracks, both groaning internally. Sister Imperator.

“Go to my room and get comfortable, please.” He kisses her knuckles before removing his hand from hers. “I’ll be back soon.” Sarah nods and walks off, hearing the strained greeting he gives to Sister.

Once she gets to his room, she finds a pair of her pajama pants and puts them on. For a bit she wanders around his room, admiring the books or knickknacks she hadn’t had time to look at in the past. She walks over to the sprawling cage set-up where he keeps his rats. They squeak happy noises at her as she comes over to give them some attention. “Our Copia should be home soon, little ones.”

Sarah then lets out a loud yawn and decides to lay down in his bed for the rest of the wait. The plush, luxurious feeling of his bed along with the lingering scent of Copia’s body soap and cologne in the sheets lull her into a deep sleep before she knows it

◊◊◊◊◊

When Copia is finally back into his room, he heaves a tired sigh. Sister Imperator wanted an update on the rest of the album and it took much longer than he expected. However, the sight that greeted him once he entered his room had him swooning. Sarah, his love, is bundled up under his comforter and sleeping soundly against his pillows. After he washed off the black paint around his eyes, he changes into sweats and a t-shirt before joining her under the covers. As if she could sense his presence in bed, Sarah moves to lay her head down on top of Copia’s chest and wraps her arm around his waist. He chuckles at the small, content hum once she settles in her new position.

Copia and Papa Terzo are walking together to a meeting the following morning. He’s lamenting about the recent week of failure to take anything further past very passionate kissing with Sarah.

“Why don’t you just say ‘fuck it’ and take a day off, Copia?” Terzo asks bluntly. “Whisk her away and have your way with each other, eh?”

Copia scoffs. “I would if I could. Sister Imperator has been breathing down my neck to get this album finished.” He exhales a long sigh. “And I couldn’t make Sarah take a day off of her job just to have sex!”

“Why not?”

“Papa.”  

Terzo grumbles. “You can still find a way to make time for her, Copia.” He insists, looking over to make his point. He places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Things are only going to get more chaotic from here. You need to make the initiative for the both of you.”

The two round a corner, walking by a few clergy members. Terzo receives a couple flirty “hello Papa”s from siblings along with a sarcastic eye-roll from Amelia who’s passing by them as she heads to the studio. Terzo wiggles his gloved fingers at her, waving as she walks by them.

Copia rolls his eyes as well. “I think you need to take your own advice, Papa.”

Terzo hums and shakes his head. “No, I can’t. My amore isn’t like yours, Cardinale. Amelia is skittish. I need to make her come to me.” He swats his hand in the air. “Don’t worry, though. I have a plan.”

Copia eyes Terzo. Oh no.

The following evening, Copia sits in on his scheduled confessional duty. He’s sat by himself for most of it. A couple siblings have come by to discuss their sins and celebrate them in the name of Satan. I should’ve brought a book he thinks. The sound of the latch on the other side moving breaks his train of thought. Footsteps softly thud and then the bench creaks signaling the occupant has sat down. Copia sits up straight in anticipation for what they will say.

“Forgive me, Papa, for I have not sinned.” A soft, familiar voice fills the booth.

Copia doesn’t realize he’s let out a surprised “Oh!” and Sarah gasps on the other side of the screened enclosure.

“Copia! I- uh. I thought one of the Papas was on duty tonight?” She sounds terrified. He can see through the mesh screen that her hands slap up to cover her face despite the already given privacy.

He shifts awkwardly on his bench. “Ah, no, dolcezza. It’s my night tonight.” Sarah hums. “Please tell me what’s bothering you, though.”

Sarah lets out a quick huff. “Can we uh, pretend it’s not you right now?” she winces.

Copia knits his eyebrows together. He can sense the anxiety in the air. “Ah, o-ok.” He shifts briefly, sitting up straight and moving to look forward. “Um. What’s been on your mind, sorella? You said you have not sinned?”

There’s silence for a handful of seconds. “No… I have not. At least, not the particular one I would like to do.”

Copia is stunned. “Do you wish to elaborate?”  

“Well. I haven’t been able to enjoy some personal time with my, uh, boyfriend.” She clears her throat. “We recently got together after a few weeks of shy back and forth.” Copia smiles at that. “It’s been exhilarating but we’ve only ever made it up to the kissing and groping parts of our alone time.”

Copia chuckles silently to himself. “And you want to do more than that?”

“Yes. So much more.” Sarah admits. “I like the kissing, though. But we keep getting interrupted when things seem like they’re going further. It’s very frustrating.”

“I’m sure he agrees.” Copia nods, agreeing.

“I mean, once I get back to my room, I can only relieve the tension with my fingers so many times.” Sarah casually responds.

Copia feels like his tongue is caught in his throat. He can only nod silently, agreeing. “Yes, exactly.” He chokes out. “Mhm.” Terzo’s words from the day before pop back into his mind. “You need this man to make time for you, it seems.”

“It would help if I wasn’t so tired from work, too. I’ve been a bit busy.” She sighs.

Because of me Copia half scolds himself. “I see.”

“And you- he’s been busy, too!” Sarah interjects. “We both just need, I don’t know, less important jobs.” They both laugh on their side of the booth. There’s a small moment of silence before Sarah softly says “Copia?”

“I’m sorry, amore.” he sighs. “But because of this, I think we’re due for another date now, Sarah.” He proposes.

Sarah hums. “What did you have in mind?”

“This Friday, three days from now, I will pick you up at your room and we’ll wine and dine. I’ll plan a dinner for us and then we will go back to my room to continue how we see fit.” His voice goes up in a playful tone towards the end. “What do you think?”

“I think I could be okay with that.” She responds back in jest.

“Molto bene. I will need you to take the day off, too, amore.” Copia demands.

She balks. “Copia.”

“We could both use a break, Sarah. And I don’t want you to be sleepy while I woo you to my bed.”

Sarah sits there for a moment. “Fine. I’ll try.”

◊◊◊◊◊

The next morning Sarah finishes the last few details of Copia’s suit she’d been sewing and looks up at Amelia while she’s lost in a trance of stitching. Last night she came up with an idea for an outfit to wear to her date and formulated an idea that might convince Amelia that she can sew a non-Copia project on the clock.

“I finished my suit, Amelia.” She calls.

“Oh good, you’re ahead of schedule!” She responds without looking up.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaims at too high a volume. “And uh, I was wondering. Since I’m ahead of schedule. Could I get Friday off?”

Amelia looks up from her machine; she has a blank expression and a kind of look in her eye that Sarah cannot decipher. “Any particular reason?”

She twiddles her thumbs together. “I have plans…”

“So soon? Did they just come up?”

“Yes...” Sarah cringes.

Amelia turns back to her machine to sew again. “Well, that’s just a pity. My rules state that any employee must give all time off requests at least two weeks in advance so I can tell you whether or not I am completely fucking with you.” She looks back up to Sarah and winks.

“What?” She looks shocked.

“I saw Copia as I made my way to the studio this morning. He asked me to give you Friday off from work and I knew you were going to finish the suit today, anyway.” Amelia reveals. “I told him I’d think about it.”

“Amelia, you are absolutely diabolical.” Alex chimes from his desk.

She smiles. “Thank you.”

“I- I was also wondering… Since I’m ahead. That I could make a date outfit with my free time?”

Amelia stops sewing. She looks up from her machine before shrugging. “Fuck it. sure.”

Sarah bolts up from her seat. “I’m going to go look for fabrics in the closet before you can change your mind!” her voice fades the further back she goes into the room. Around ten minutes later she emerges with a pile of fabric options.

“You’re going to voluntarily sew fabric that has sequins on them?” Alex questions.

“You went rifling through the Papa cabinet?” Amelia calls to Sarah.

She spins around to look at Amelia. “Those are the better fabrics!” Sarah argues, holding her hands up.

“I’m starting to question why I even put that there in the first place. When am I ever going to use blue sequin fabric for a Papa Ritual costume?” Amelia shakes her head.

Sarah makes quick work on a bodice with the sequin fabric, grumbling to herself the entire way. Alex laughs every time Sarah has to replace a sewing machine needle because it broke running over a rogue sequin she forgot to snip off. She’s up her third needle.

On Thursday afternoon, she’s happy clapping at her finished dress. A blue sequined bodice with satin off-shoulder sleeves and a gathered skirt made from the rest of the satin that ends at the knees. And it has pockets she squealed. The dress is carefully put in a black garment bag and she heads to her room in the evening, passing by Copia on her way.

“What’s in the bag, dolcezza?” He asks.

“It’s a surprise.” Sarah teases.

Copia chuckles, calling back “I wait with bated breath.”

Friday evening rolls around sooner than she expected when Copia proposed their date those days ago. She received a text to be ready at 6pm for him to pick her up and lead her to their destination. He’s kept all of the details under wraps.

A knock on the door takes her out of her thoughts. Sarah gets up and opens the door to reveal Copia, dressed in black pants with a tucked-in black button up. His sleeves are rolled up and the top buttons are open, showing some whisps of his chest hair. He smiles wide at Sarah’s dress, eyes flicking up and down. He takes a moment to admire the way she looks before responding.

“Oh, Sarah. You are beautiful!” he gasps. “I feel very underdressed now.”

She grabs his hand and rubs her thumb over it. “Please, don’t. I got carried away and wanted to make something special.”

He laughs. “You succeeded.” Copia holds out his other hand. “Shall we?”

Sarah nods. “Yes, we shall!” She walks with him, hand-in-hand to their date spot.

He leads them on a path that soon becomes familiar to her: Papa Primo’s garden. Towards the back, in a secluded, private part of the grounds, there is a gazebo that is accentuated with flower pots that hang off the rails of the structure. Soft fairy lights and lanterns are placed around to give light once the sun starts to set. Copia leads Sarah up the steps to a table he has set up with their food.

“I asked Papa if I could use this,” he gestures to the gazebo “,tonight. He’s secretly a romantic but don’t tell him I said that.” Copia winks as he pulls out a chair for Sarah to sit down.

“Mums the word.” She mimes zipping her mouth shut.

For a while the couple sit in silence, stealing glances to each other in-between bites. Copia takes a sip of his wine before breaking their bubble.

“I’ve been working on more music this week.”

Sarah looks up. “Oh, tell me about it!”

“It’s another instrumental. I want to combine synth and harpsichord.” His eyebrows jump up at the end.

“I’d love to hear it once it’s complete.”  

Their meal is finished shortly after, and a couple of Primo’s ghouls appeared to clean up the table. Thanking them, Copia held his arm out for Sarah and they began a short walk through the garden. The soft lights along the tall bushes illuminated their slow path. They settle on a bench, Copia’s arm stretches out to lay behind Sarah on his left. She leans into him, placing her right hand on his thigh.

Copia looks up, realizing something. “I think this is the bench you found me on all those weeks ago.”

She laughs softly. “And look how much has happened since then.” Sarah looks up at him to see him smiling at her. “Copia?”

“Yes, amore?”

Sarah giggles. “I can see your fangs poking out right now.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he blushes. “They have a tendency to do that when I’m too relaxed or very happy.” His hand behind her brushes her shoulder.

She feels too overwhelmed in that moment and looks down. “Oh.” Sarah looks back up. Copia pulls her towards him and leans down to kiss her. She smiles at the light graze of his fangs on her lips.

When Copia parts from her, Sarah brings her left hand up to his face to bring him back to her lips. He mirrors the “Oh” from Sarah earlier. He’s pulled Sarah practically on top of him now as he leans back against the armrest. Copia’s right hand moves to hold her down by her back and Sarah soon parts from him to take a breath; his eyes are still closed.

She takes a moment to look at him like this. Copia’s head is tilted back, a blissful smile on his face. The points of his fangs poke out from his lips. The soft lighting of the garden cast onto his face and she can manage to see a light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. She leans in to kiss one of the soft wrinkles on the side of his mouth.

“Should we go back to my room now?” Copia says, eyes still closed.

“Yes.” She nods. He stands up and holds out his hand for Sarah to hold. “Lead the way.”

There’s no rush to get back to his room. On their walk they each take turns to stop for a quick kiss on the lips or the bring the other’s hand to their lips for an absent-minded kiss.

Once they arrive at his door, she feels a somersault of emotions deep in her stomach. There’s an unspoken word between them as they walk into his room. Finally. They both toe off their shoes by the door and then Copia and Sarah move to face each other. There’s been a fury of want and need between them for days now. It’s all culminated to this moment and she feels as if it’s a calm before a storm. She stands in front of his door and looks to him.

Copia raises his hand and places it on her lower cheek. He licks his lips before looking into her eyes for any hesitancy before leaning down to kiss Sarah. This one feels different compared to the others. The journey of what could happen tonight between them begins with this kiss. He hums into her mouth, feeling overwhelmed by the situation; she’s already feeling weak in the knees.

Sarah’s arms wrap around Copia’s back to pull him closer and she feels him smile on her mouth. He takes his free arm to snake around her and starts to mouth to the edge of her lips, creating a trail of kisses down to her neck. She tilts her head to the side to give him more room. He breathes in at her neck and Copia feels renewed with passion; he pushes his body up against Sarah so that she’s pinned against the door. One of his hands on her back travel down to skim the curve of her butt and he holds his hand there to keep her on him. She revels in the feeling of his hold on her body,

Sarah can feel a stirring down below from Copia and she realizes he’s now slowly grinding his crotch into hers as he holds her to him. She sighs when the feeling of his teeth graze over her sensitive skin and one of her hands rises to his hair where she combs her fingers through it. She remembers something in that moment and Sarah tries to hold on a bit longer to tell Copia something before they carry on. “Copia…”

“Mhm?” Copia mumbles. Sarah doesn’t respond immediately so he pulls away to look at her, waiting.

“Oh…” She’s taken aback by the look in his eyes. The pupils are blown wide and his white eye almost looks as if it’s staring into her soul. I probably look like the same she thinks. Copia’s kiss-swollen lips rest slightly parted as he looks and waits.

He brushes the thumb of the hand still on her cheek over that spot it’s touching. “What do you need to say, amore?” Copia whispers.

She takes a breath. “I’m really looking forward to having sex with you.” Sarah smiles.

“As am I.” Copia agrees, encouraging her to continue.

“And I wanted to say that… If you wanted to bite me, to drink from me, you can.” Copia’s eyes open wide in surprise. “I want you to do it again.”

He grins. “I would love to.” Leaning down to place a short kiss, he mumbles on her lips “Would you like to take this somewhere else now?”

Sarah nods. “Can we go to your room?”

Copia smiles. “I think that can be arranged.” He takes her hand and leads the two of them through his apartment to his bedroom. When they stop in front of his bed, Copia’s hand reaches out to play with the loose skirt of Sarah’s dress. His eyes glance to her before asking “Would you let me help you out of your dress? I want you to be comfortable in my bed.”

She lets out a nervous laugh. “It’s actually not that awkward to wear.” Copia nods. “But yes, you can help me out of it.” Sarah nods.

Copia walks to stand behind her and puts his hands on top of Sarah’s shoulders. He rubs his thumbs on her bare shoulders and leans into kiss her head. Moving his hands quickly to the top of the zipper on the back of her dress, he begins pulling the tab down its path that stops at her lower back. He’s not sure how to pull it off Sarah’s body and pauses. “Eh, dolcezza...”

She giggles lightly. “Pull it up over my head, Copia.” She turns her head back to look at him.

“Ah!” She raises her arms up to help as he pulls the garment up Sarah’s body and lays it down carefully on a chair to the side. If Copia needed air to breathe, it would’ve been stolen from his lungs. All of the newly exposed skin he can see of Sarah’s has him in a frenzy. He wraps his arms around her waist and the touch of her soft skin under his hands feels heavenly. “Could I ask you one more thing? Well, two, technically.” He rests his chin on Sarah’s shoulder when he speaks next to her ear. Copia sways them both slightly as they stand.

I would do anything for you right now. “What is it?”

He moves Sarah’s body to turn her around. “Do you mind removing your underwear and then going to lay down on my bed for me?” He leans down to peck her cheek.

She’s too lost in the feeling of his thumb rubbing smooth circles on her waist to respond right away. “Y-yes. Yes. I can do that.”

“Bene.” Copia replies.

He lets her go and Sarah makes quick work on the last items. She sits down onto his comforter and scootches back to lay down against the pillows; the fabric feels lovely on her bare skin. Copia watches her every move like he’s trying to commit this sight to memory. When she settles in her spot, Sarah leans onto her left side and props herself up on the bed. “Now you.”

Copia walks closer to the bed, placing a knee near hers on the mattress. “In a moment. I just need to do…” He leans down to kiss Sarah’s lips in determination. She pulls him closer to her and he loses his balance, crashing down onto her body. They both let out groans at the sudden shift and he pecks a couple quick kisses to her lips before pulling back. “That.” They both laugh. “Well, the falling wasn’t planned.”

“Don’t keep me waiting for too long.” She pouts, running her fingers though his hair.

Copia moves to sit further down in-between her open legs and looks up into Sarah’s eyes. She hums and nods for him to keep going. His hands wander from her ankles up to caress the sides of her thighs. “Gorgeous.” he whispers to himself. Copia leans down to kiss her shoulder, propping himself up on one arm, and starts a path of kisses from there. He smacks loudly and dramatically, the tickly feeling of his mustache on her skin makes Sarah laugh and wiggle in her spot under his hold. He flicks up to look at her face: eyes closed with a smile.

He continues down Sarah’s chest, taking time at each breast to kiss and worship. He nibbles and bites down softly before running his tongue over it to soothe any pain; Sarah’s hand grasps up at his head to have something stable to hold on to. She gasps softly and then sighs, running her fingers through his hair again. “Sarah…” Copia breathes out when she starts scratching at his scalp.

Copia carries on, pecking and kissing his way down, passing over her stomach to her hips then down further to her soft thighs. His hands take hold and he ends his journey in-between her legs to kiss different spots of her thighs. She opens her legs wider to accommodate the width of his head and shoulders while his mouth finds a particular spot to fixate on. Halfway down on the inside of her right thigh, Copia kisses, nibbles, and licks the spot into a quickly forming hickey. He bites down slightly with his teeth, breaking the skin this time and drawing a small amount of blood into his mouth. Sarah cries out and Copia holds up a hand for her to hold while her other now grasps the sheets. His tongue combined with the bite pain washing away help lull her back into a calmer state. Copia’s thumb rubs along her hand as a small distraction.

“Mi dispiace, amore. I wanted a small taste.” Copia looks up to check on Sarah. Her hair is ruffled from moving around on the pillow while she writhed against the fabric. “May I continue?”

“Please do.” Sarah sighs.

His eyes wander down from her face to the tops of her thighs where they meet. He leans down, following the enticing scent of her to the spot normally hidden by her clothes. Copia adjusts his body to sit on his knees in-between her legs. He’s tantalizingly close to the area she needs him to touch.

“Please.” She urges, nodding her head.

He places a small kiss to her hip before sitting back up. She has a slightly confused look but it soon changes when she feels a finger softly swipe up her slit. She flutters her eyes shut from the light contact, leaning her head back in the pillows and it emboldens Copia to keep going. He moves slowly over her lips, teasing the bud of her clit occasionally. It’s all intentional but featherlight pressures and he feels Sarah growing even wetter under his touch. He loves how she’s so taken with the little affection.

“Do you like that?” he purrs. “You were already wet for me when I started and now? Oh, I feel like I could drown.” He breathes in a deep inhale of her scent. “But what a way to go, eh? Do you think you can handle a little more?”

With her eyes closed, all Sarah can do is hum. She can’t find the words to speak for him. Copia stops his movement when she doesn’t respond and she whines. Her hips move on his stilled hand to get some friction back. “Wha-?”

“I need you here with me, Sarah.” He tilts his head as he looks up at Sarah. “Do you want more?”

She lays her head back and huffs. “Yes, I want more AH!” Her thought is cut short when Copia gets back to work with his fingers, now pressing down with more pressure as he circles her clit with his thumb while his finger taps lightly at her entrance. “Shit, Copia.” The new sensations have her moving her hips in sync with his hand. “Keep going.”

He smiles. Slowly, Copia inserts his finger and she moans out at him. He moves slowly in-and-out, testing the tightness before adding one more. “Is this how you relieved your tension back in your room? All alone and pent up? Needing my fingers instead of your own.” She whimpers from his words and at the slight stretch and they can both feel the small squeeze of her walls on his fingers. Copia slowly lowers himself to lay down on his stomach to begin kissing and worships Sarah’s clit while he curls his fingers in her.

“Oh fuck, please don’t stop.” Sarah groans, opening up wider. “You are amazing.” He smiles into her pussy and she can feel it. She rolls her eyes slightly. Smug bastard.

“Dolcezza, are you close? Can you come for me, amore?” He begs between her legs.

“I’m-“ coming she thinks. The orgasm that washes over her is so sudden and she wasn’t expecting it. Her whole body feels euphoric while she flutters and clenches down on his fingers. After she’s come down slightly from the high, he removes his fingers so both of his hands can hold up her hips while he dives in to lick up her release. He continues his ministrations to her sensitive clit, sucking and mouthing at her pussy with renewed fervor. She grasps his hair on his head and he groans when Sarah pulls slightly at the strands. The vibrations from his voice spur on her small hip bucks to move in rhythm with Copia’s mouth.

He's rutting his hips against the mattress and it’s a sight for Sarah to see. He’s so overcome with the entirety of her around him and on his tongue that he’s nearly on the brink of bursting in his pants he still has on. He looks determined to give her another orgasm before coming up for air. Sarah’s free hand moves up to cup her breast and from the enthusiastic licks and suctions on her clit from Copia along with her own fondling of her chest, she falls over into a second orgasm of the night, arching her back off the bed. The sound that leaves her throat is an obscene moan and Copia smiles, proud he can elicit such a reaction when they’ve just started.

He moans at the lingering taste on his tongue once he sits up after she calms down from her high. “I think you tasted even better the second time, amore.” He sits up in bed on his knees. Copia licks around his mouth and then wipes the rest off with the back of his hand as he watches Sarah with a toothy smile.  

When Sarah comes-to, she moves to sit up on her shaky knees in front of Copia with a determined look on her face. She holds onto his shoulders for balance while she kisses the side of his face before moving to his lips, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands on his shoulder begin to move down; one hand stops on his waist and the other continues its mission to touch his bulge in his tight pants. He groans out at Sarah’s gentle palming at his crotch. She leans in to speak into his ear and says low but clear. “I need you to get out of these pants so you can fuck me, Copia.” He growls and she can feel a slight twitch from his clothed cock at her demand. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Copia is slow to move so Sarah begins impatiently unbuttoning his pants for him. He leaves the bed briefly to stand, much to her dismay, so he can get the garment off his legs along with his briefs. The cool air of his room is like a savior to his sensitive, leaking cock; Copia practically shudders as he breathes out. All that’s left on him is his button up as he gets back into the bed. Sarah’s hands fly to undo the buttons but her frantic fingers cannot be still long enough to effectively free him from the fabric. She growls and then her hands firmly grasp the open collar. Strengthened with frustration, Sarah rips the shirt open, popping buttons off the shirt to allow her to get it off.

Scandalized, “Sarah!” Copia gasps. He stares at her in awe, his fangs poking down from his growing smirk. “My buttons!” He pretends to be upset and pouts.

She huffs and looks up at him. “I’ll fix it later. I’m a seamstress, remember?” She kisses the smirk off his face and pushes the damned, insulting fabric from his shoulders. With Copia now fully naked in front of her, she admires the hairiness of his chest and soft stomach. Sarah’s eyes slowly follow the trail of hair that leads down to her destination. His achingly hard erection is on display for her. He’s long and thick and she licks her lips at the small mess of pre come that’s spread around the tip because of her.

He chuckles but it soon turns into groans when he feels Sarah’s hand travel down to collect some of her lingering orgasm between her thighs to use as lube on his cock while she strokes it with his own slick. She moves her hands at a slow and steady pace, copying Copia’s fingers on her from earlier “Fuck me, Sarah. If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to last very long.” He whimpers slightly at the light caress while Sarah moves her lips to kiss his neck. His hips thrust on their own volition and she smiles. Sarah pulls away and he pouts.

“You know what to do then.” She shifts, falling back down to lay in bed. Copia watches in awe as he takes in his amore, legs bent up to herself but closed. She beckons him to come closer, crooking a finger towards her. She hides the very place he wishes to bury himself into. He finally starts moving closer, holding himself in one hand, softly stroking in the same way Sarah had been before and looks deep into her eyes.

“I can’t fuck you, Sarah, if you sit like that, eh?” he smirks. “Spread your legs for me, dolcezza. Let me see you again.”

She obliges, feigning ignorance. “Oh! So sorry.”

“I would ask if you were ready for me but that may be redundant.” He jokes. Sarah laughs, leaning her head back with a blush, she covers her face with her hand. “Hey, hey, don’t get shy on me now.” He holds her chin, pulling Sarah to look at him. He leans down to give a small kiss as he steadies himself at her folds. The tip of his cock nudges slowly into Sarah’s cunt and they both moan. He kisses her gasps and whimpers through the process of burying himself fully in her comforting heat.

“Ah! The stretch feels so good.” She whines.

He pants slightly. “You feel divine! So warm, so snug around me. Almost like a hug.” He laughs, delirious already. He tries a few shallow thrusts in and out, slow at first, testing the waters. She quickly clamps down like a vice on his cock and he groans. With a determined move, he wraps his arms around her body and rolls them to the side, switching positions. Copia props himself up to sit against the pillows while still holding on to Sarah. He removes his arms and she leans away to sit up.

She looks at him, tilting her head. “Wha-?”

“I want you on top when I drink from you.” He says, his hand rising to drag a finger over her neck to her sternum. “Are you ready for that?”

“Yes.” She nods rapidly, adjusting to the feeling of being impaled by his cock while she sits on top of him. She feels a slight twitch inside her and they both groan.

He places a hand on her cheek and she stills. “Try not to move too much, Sarah. I want this to last a bit longer, eh?” Sarah nods again and he smiles. Copia sits up and one hand rests on her waist. His other hand stays on her cheek and he leans in, placing a small kiss to her neck. His fangs graze over the skin and Sarah shudders slightly in anticipation. His kisses become heavier, sloppy, and lingering before he starts the next one on her pulse point. Finally, he stills on one spot, deciding where to bite.

She silently pleads “Please… Ah!” The next thing she feels is the sharp bite of his teeth followed by his tongue lapping at the skin to help soothe as much as he can while it still stings. “Copiaaaa….” She breathes out once the sharp pain fades to a pleasant balm washing through the rest of her body. He moans against her neck and she whimpers. His hips below her have started to shift, slowly bucking up to her as he holds her body to his. She rocks her hips in a similar rhythm, chasing a fleeting feeling.

Copia mouths rapidly at her neck, lapping up her delicious blood. Blood that he hasn’t stopped thinking about for days now. The high of her taste once again on his tongue makes his head feel woozy and he begins to thrust harder up onto Sarah’s pussy. He can tell she’s just as affected from the venom running through her blood now that the pain has faded by her soft mewls. He removes his lips from her neck, looking up to Sarah whose eyes are shut tight in bliss, body involuntarily rocking on top of his to work on falling into bliss once more.

He mouths a bloody kiss to her lips before asking “Could you give me one more? Come for me again, Sarah?” She mumbles out a yes and he goes back to her neck, placing a light kiss to his teeth marks before biting down again. His hand on her waist moves to Sarah’s back, helping her small movements above him.

She feels close, the feeling of her blood being drank along with the fullness and stretch of Copia inside of her have Sarah on the brink of another orgasm. His thrusts up into her become sharper and more precise. He growls into her neck, leaning back and taking Sarah to lay on him. Their skin is glistening in a thin layer of sweat from their exertions. Sarah’s thighs are burning at this rate but she persists through the ache. The new angle allows his feet to plant into the mattress and give more weight to the thrusts. She moans deep in her chest and it rings through the room. Sarah feels the fluttery feeling below come back once again and whispers desperately to Copia “Just a few more like that and I’ll ah-OH!” Her words are punched out of her throat as the rush of pleasure runs through her body. “So good… feel… floating.” She murmurs as she clings to him.

The tight pulsing of her walls on Copia’s cock has him cresting over into his own orgasm shortly after, shooting thick ropes of his come into her. They rock against each other, riding through their highs and Copia feels too overwhelmed at the sensations. Her soft skin on his hands, how he sits in her wet warmth, her blood on his lips and tongue. He’s barely processed his first orgasm when his cock kicks once more and he’s screaming out while a second wave of hot pleasure overtakes his body. He yanks his mouth from Sarah’s neck and lays his head back, body possessed as he thrusts up into Sarah and rides out the sensations. All he can do is breathe through it, heaving his sweaty chest as she sits up and softly swivels her hips on top to help him through it. She runs her fingers through his chest hair to soothe him and watches as he scrunches up his face in bliss with a toothy, bloody smile.

When she tires, Sarah falls to lay on top of Copia’s body. They lie there, catching their breath for a few minutes while basking in the afterglow of a thorough fuck she thinks. Her heart swells with an affection for her vampire lover that she wasn’t prepared for. Maybe it’s the venom. His hand comes up to rub small circles on her back.

Once Copia feels himself soften, he rolls them over once again with a collective groan so he can slip out and let Sarah lay down. She smiles weakly at the feeling of a small trail of Copia’s spend trickling out.  Slowly he gets up to walk to his bathroom where he washes his face and cleans himself up. He leaves the bathroom with a wet cloth along with a bandage kit and settles back on the bed to take care of his lover. She hisses at the feeling of it on her neck and thigh but he kisses her forehead as a distraction. The gentle swipe of the cloth on her vagina has her wiggling from sensitivity. He chuckles after he’s finished, taking the cloth to the bathroom. Finally, he walks to the fridge where he has a couple chilled juice boxes and grabs a granola bar for Sarah.

She smiles at the gesture when he comes back into the room. Sarah had just enough energy to get under the comforter and she’s snuggled into the pillows while she waits for Copia to do the same. Her hand motion for him to come to bed has different energy from earlier but he grins all the same. Copia lays down in bed and wraps Sarah up in his arms for her to lay on his chest. His thumb rubs on her skin where he lays his hand. She lays her cheek on his chest and places a hand his stomach. They bask in a comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of skin-to-skin under the soft covers. Sarah tilts her head up to look at Copia who is already looking down at her.

“What are you thinking about, amore?” Copia asks softly.

Sarah smiles back. “Just… you.” She laughs lightly. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” he places a small kiss to her head. “How are you feeling? You didn’t pass out this time, that’s progress! I ah, pre-gamed so I wouldn’t be tempted to drink too much.”

Sarah snorts. “I feel great.” She adjusts on top of him. “A bit sore, but I feel fantastic. How are you, my love?”

“I wasn’t expecting the second orgasm, that’s for sure.” Copia and Sarah burst out laughing. “Or the business back there with the buttons, eh! You’re full of surprises mi diavolessa.” He playfully shakes Sarah in his arms.

“I just… really wanted you inside me.” Sarah laughs. “It wasn’t fair that you still had clothes on while I was as naked as the day I was born.” She taps a finger on his chest. “And you said in a moment! I think you and I have very different definitions of that word.” She playfully huffs.

“Well, I am so sorry for keeping you waiting.” He takes Sarah’s hand to his lips to kiss it before putting it back down. “I will make sure you don’t wait as long next time. I felt so drunk off of you that I lost track of time.”

Sarah’s heart flutters at his words. “It felt amazing when you drank from me. I felt like once the venom kicked in, I was consumed by you inside and out. It was perfect, Copia.”

“You really like that, huh?” she nods and he leans back in thought. “The first time it was so sweet and I felt addicted the second it hit my tongue, hence the passing out.” he cringes and Sarah giggles. “This time there was a kind of richness to it. You are decedent. All of you.” Copia’s strokes small circles to her skin. A yawn sneaks its way through Sarah’s lips and she sighs in defeat. “Are you getting sleepy, dolcezza?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I want to stay awake! If I go to sleep then this wonderful night with you will be over.” Sarah pouts up to Copia. She rolls over to face away from him to get comfortable in bed. He moves to wrap his arm around her from behind and nuzzles his face in her back before sitting up on his other arm.

Copia leans in to place a small kiss to her shoulder. “There will always be other nights, amore. And remember,” his fingers tickle her stomach; she wiggles at the feeling. “,you don’t have to go to work until Monday and you have a change of clothes here.” He leans in to whisper in Sarah’s ear. “Over the next two days, we aren’t leaving this bed.” He exhales a devious laugh and lays back down, settling behind her.

Sarah lets out a tired but mischievous chuckle. “If I’m not leaving this bed, then who needs clothes?” A dirty laugh echoes from the couple into the room.

Copia kisses between her shoulder blades and hugs her closer to him. “Goodnight, Sarah.”

◊◊◊◊◊

Sarah is broken out of her stitching trance by a knock on the door.

“Cardinal Copia! What a pleasure to see you.” Amelia sounds way too happy.

He gives a shifty bow to the room. “Good afternoon, everyone. I need to speak to Sarah, ehe.”

“Well, don’t keep her waiting.” She shoos Copia.

“What do you need?” Sarah calls over.

Copia walks up to her table and stands beside Sarah’s chair. He leans down to whisper in her ear, holding out his hand away from Alex and Sarah’s line of sight. “I found the button we couldn’t find before you left this morning.”

She can feel Alex and Amelia’s eyes on the two. She quickly snatches the button from his hand and ekes out a quick “Thank you” to him. He leans down to kiss the top of her head and bids the studio an awkward farewell.

Sarah is halfway through sewing on the last of Copia’s button when Amelia cackles out “Lust strikes again!”

hehe Amelia is such a menace. She and Terzo really are meant for each other. I Hope y'all enjoyed it. I didn't intend to write something so long lol.

[tomoletters]

Stitched holes in my black boots with fishing line Laced in memories of the hotel room we danced in The night you told me this city wasn't yours anymore Yet I would forever be your favourite home Tattered clothing held together by rows of safety pins Keeping the places you touched in tact a little longer So afraid of the day there's one wash too many And the scent of your shampoo leaves for good Duct tape over every seam of my messenger bag Desperate to hold together our long and messy history Carrying the last stray hairs of yours that held on Rested by crumpled receipts from times we'd share Laminated covers over every message you send me Collectors items, reluctantly aware I now have them all Nothing left but to sort them into colour-coded folders You always kept your desk space so well organized Maybe if I add enough paperclips this love wont fly away Just one more day, week, month, year - eternity One last second spent in the moments between us Before you end up in another beginning, someone else's arms Stationary drawers and laundry hampers can't solve this Our chapter was far too short to end where it did We still have strings I need to haphazardly mend And staples for you to punch through my heart With this final paper plane, addressed from me to you Promise I understand not everything gets to last You've grown too much to remain nostalgic any longer Though, I wonder if the sky can ever contain what you're after If we got another chance to do it all over, start from fresh Tell me, how different could our picture book possibly be? Time after time, I swear to you I would be content As long as on each page, remained versions of you and me I would've stuck to you like glue, unwavering, you know? Taping stories together, convincing myself of grand delusion While I wanted to wait for you, it burned when you didn't stay The truth is, we both deserve better than "someday" ... "You and me, someday."

Date Written: 23rd of November, 2023

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

I have something new that I've been working on if you want it?

Another Preggo ELady: Nanema has settled quite well into her temporary role of strategic adviser & at-home co-ruler. She no longer does much herself on her own besides cooking & practicing sewing as she wishes not to worry her husband. And she has begun to rely on others to carry most things for her. (I like to think Ganondorf would notice & be appreciative of the courtesy.)

Which, she feels she has to have something to keep her hands occupied. Otherwise, she might go insane. (She's always been a very kinetic learner & thinker, so she gets antsy if she doesn't have something to occupy either her mind or her body with.)

She’d known some basic things involving sewing, but it was mostly for the purposes of suturing, mending clothes, the sewing of leathers for weapon handles & armor as well as padding for armor. Now that the baby was on the way, she thinks it’ll be pragmatic to learn to actually make clothes. She’s begun using her mother’s old clothing pattern scrolls in an attempt to learn how to make Sheikah clothing & it’s going well so far. (There have been definite stumbling points, especially in the beginning when she accidentally made a kimono with 3 sleeves. XD But she’s taken the failures in good humor & uses them as learning opportunities. She is very quickly improving. Though, I’d like to know the Dorfs’ reactions to the 3 sleeved kimono, especially considering she simply showed it to him & told him about her harrowing experience in performing the small blunder of her own accord with a small, humble smile. I like to think he’d get a bit of a chuckle & might wanna keep it to show their child, who might also get a laugh out of it someday, though, that’s just my perspective. What do you & the Dorfbots think? Anyway, I don’t think she’d mind the possible gentle teasing in the slightest, though.)

However, in the cases of OoT & TotK, she’s asked her husband if it would be alright to have a Gerudo seamstress come teach her some traditional baby clothes. An infant thobe seems to be the most practical start & would be a comfortable first night outfit. For TotK, she may also request some more clothing pattern scrolls from Kakariko if it isn’t too terribly inconvenient. (Their responses, if you please? And, in the case of a denial, she nods & does not press.)

Nemma's also begun to take up different hobbies such as art (mostly coal sketching & painting, but the painting one is still a fairly new one as she has much more experience with simple drawing from understanding basic cartography), practicing her calligraphy (both Sheikah & Gerudo), fashion sketches, low-effort gardening, & reading teaching books (her children WILL be educated). Mostly to keep her occupied when she's able to delegate. (His opinions on these new hobbies of hers? To be clear, she realizes that her painting skills still have a long way to go, though she's planning to take her time with improving at her own pace as this is something that she's doing primarily for leisure & relaxation. However, if he tries to make it sound like a piece is wonderful, be warned, she will give him the look. Not a stink eye, just this unimpressed if indulgent look of, “really?” With a sassy brow raise.)

In the case of HW, specifically, she's taken on the task of making sure the supplies for the effort are maintained.

Other than that, she’s taken on the task of governing the household/castle in the cases of OoT, TP, WW, & TotK. In the case of HW, she's taken on the role of head strategist & military logistics management supervisor. (Meaning that she is “responsible for developing, evaluating, monitoring, & supervising logistics & plans. She ensures that Ganondorf's soldiers & their equipment are in the right place at the right time, & that every mission is safe, effective, & successful. She does this by integrating planning & implementation, & by considering all possible aspects, phases, & contingencies.”)

So, she no longer fights & just after learning of being expecting, she took on an apprentice in the art of smithing in an effort to help maintain their weapon quality later when she is unable to do it herself. After all, smithing is very backbreaking work, so she wished to teach him the techniques as quickly as possible so that she could later take a bigger step back to preserve her & the baby’s health. It's been going well so far. The boy, Zenny, has definitely made his share of mistakes, but has also been dedicated & eager to learn, if a bit shy. However, he has a very strong interest in weapons & a deep appreciation for their history. He also already had a strong woodworking & general blacksmithing foundation, but had decided that his passion was in weapon & armor making.

It’d almost been providence that brought him to them near the very beginning of her pregnancy, it seemed. (Ganondorf’s opinion on the boy?)

But, that’s besides the point, Nemma's also taken up canteen operation & either training, leading, or working with the very few cooks they have on hand. And though she isn’t a medic, she knows basic first aid & is rapidly learning more from the singular medic on staff. (Gan’s opinion?)

Bottom line: when Ganondorf is on site, he’s the one in charge; when he isn’t, she is.

Though, all this does tend to make her seem like quite the busy little bee, but she’s actually quite the accomplished leader, multitasker, & deligator.

Now, could I possibly get their thoughts, feelings, opinions, & reactions to all this? If not, that’s fine, I’m just enjoying myself & I wanted to help keep your mind occupied if I can.

IT TOOK ME A HOT MINUTE BUT WOO!

I love pregnant Nemma. Ganondorf does too. He lets his wife do anything she wants. Who is gunna tell her no? Her? The Demon King's wife? The Gerudo King's wife? No one. Nope.

*********************************************************************

Ganondorf's and Demise's reactions to Nanema's 3-Sleeved Kimono and other activities:

Wind Waker Ganondorf:

When Nanema shows Ganondorf the three-sleeved kimono with her small, humble smile, he can’t help but chuckle softly. He finds the mistake endearing and appreciates her humor in handling it. Ganondorf would likely want to keep the kimono as a memento, envisioning the day when they can show it to their child and share a laugh together. He deeply values her ability to find humor in her mistakes, seeing it as a sign of her resilience and good nature.

As for her new hobbies, Wind Waker Ganondorf would be quietly supportive. He understands that she needs to keep her hands and mind busy, especially now, and he finds her efforts admirable. He might admire her artwork and calligraphy, but if he tries to overly praise a piece, that “really?” look from her would make him smirk, knowing she won’t accept empty flattery. He respects her enough not to indulge in insincere compliments.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf:

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would find the three-sleeved kimono amusing, letting out a rare, genuine laugh. He might tease her lightly about it, but it’s clear he’s proud of her for trying something new. The idea of showing it to their child later would definitely appeal to him—perhaps as a lesson in humility or just as a funny story from their past.

When Nanema asks about having a Gerudo seamstress teach her traditional baby clothes, he would likely agree. The practicality of ensuring their child has proper attire from both Sheikah and Gerudo cultures aligns with his own values of strength and tradition. However, he might gently warn her not to overexert herself. He’s deeply aware of her kinetic nature and would subtly encourage her to pace herself.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf:

Twilight Princess Ganondorf would be intrigued by the three-sleeved kimono, and while he might not laugh as openly as the others, a smirk would tug at his lips. He appreciates her willingness to laugh at herself and would quietly keep the kimono as a reminder of her determination and growth. His reaction to her hobbies would be one of quiet observation; he’d watch her progress and offer support when needed, but he respects her independence and doesn’t interfere too much.

When it comes to asking for a Gerudo seamstress, he would grant her request, understanding the importance of blending their cultures. He would likely even offer to retrieve additional clothing pattern scrolls from Kakariko, if it’s something she truly desires. He’s protective but trusts her judgment.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf:

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would probably find the three-sleeved kimono both amusing and a bit impressive in its own way, seeing it as a sign of her creativity, even if it was unintended. He’d keep it as a trophy of sorts, something to show their child later as a story of persistence. His reaction to her new hobbies would be one of encouragement, especially considering her role as a strategic adviser. He sees the value in her developing skills that can be applied to their military efforts or household governance.

As for her role in managing military logistics and strategy, he couldn’t be prouder. He values her competence and trusts her completely in ensuring their forces are well-prepared and that their household runs smoothly in his absence. Regarding her apprentice Zenny, Ganondorf would be cautiously optimistic. He appreciates the boy’s dedication and is pleased that Nanema has someone to pass on her skills to. He’d watch Zenny’s progress carefully, knowing that the young man’s success reflects on both Nanema’s teaching and the future of their armory.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf:

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf would find the three-sleeved kimono amusing and would chuckle at the sight of it, appreciating her sense of humor in sharing the blunder. He’s a bit more reflective and might even see it as a lesson in the unpredictability of life. He’d definitely want to keep it to show their child one day, as a reminder that even mistakes can be valuable.

When Nanema asks for a Gerudo seamstress or additional scrolls from Kakariko, he would likely grant her requests without hesitation, understanding the importance of preserving and blending their cultural heritage. He’s more attuned to the deeper significance of these requests and supports her fully, knowing that her actions are always well-considered.

As for her new hobbies, he’d be quietly approving, especially her dedication to teaching herself and expanding her skills. He knows she’s doing it for their child’s future, and that fills him with a quiet pride. However, if he tries to overly praise her painting skills and gets that unimpressed look from her, he’d smirk and simply acknowledge that she’s still improving. He appreciates her honesty and drive.

Demise:

Demise would likely be the most entertained by the three-sleeved kimono, letting out a deep, rumbling laugh. He’d definitely keep it as a trophy of sorts, seeing it as a sign of her persistence and willingness to learn. His reaction to her hobbies would be more of indulgence; he respects her need to keep busy and would likely enjoy seeing her explore different creative outlets. He wouldn’t interfere but would be watchful, ensuring she doesn’t push herself too hard.

Regarding her role in logistics, strategy, and governance, Demise would be both proud and possessive. He sees her as an extension of his power and influence, and her competence only reinforces his own. He’d be very protective of her during her pregnancy, ensuring she has everything she needs, including capable hands like Zenny’s to assist in areas where she can no longer exert herself fully.

Each version of Ganondorf, along with Demise, would have their unique reactions, but they all share a deep respect and affection for Nanema, valuing her determination, resilience, and the care she puts into her work and their shared future.

[offsidekineticist]

🐲 for Giliys (very curious if he has grooming habits), 🌸 for Theo, and 👚for Qweck!

🐲 If they have facial hair, do they style it, remove it, or just let nature take its course?

Giliys does have grooming habits! He also has complicated feelings about them because his Tragic Backstory is that growing up he was the "pet halfling" of a particularly sadistic child. So as a kid, personal grooming was something done to him according to the tastes of someone who tortured him for fun. When he became free, he eschewed most personal grooming as a sort of rebellion, but also because he thought the issue was that he didn't care about how he looked, rather than not caring for how he was made to look. When he met Theo, he had a wild, unkempt, stereotypical mountain man beard. Not long after this time, though, he became a little self conscious about his appearance (for some reason - I have no clue what could have possibly made him want to look nice around the time he met Theo (sarcasm)), and he started figuring out what he wanted to look like. During that era he tried a few higher maintenance styles and learned anything that required daily upkeep just wasn't going to work for him.

Nowadays he has a fairly laid back routine - he keeps his beard short enough that he doesn't have to comb it out or anything, but long enough that he doesn't have to trim it too often to keep it neat.

🌸 What do they smell like? Do they wear a signature scent?

Theo's scent is subtle. He doesn't wear cologne and generally goes for scentless or near scentless grooming products (shampoo, soap, etc) because he's been sensitive to strong smells since becoming a bleachling. So his scent is a combination of plain soap and his body's natural odor, with the soap being the more prominent smell unless he's been prevented from bathing.

(It was a different story when he was younger - yes, Theo, that smells nice. No, Theo, not so nice we want to be overwhelmed by it whenever you enter the room. He learned to tone it down because kids tend to be more sensitive to smell than adults, but his preference was for overpoweringly strong scents)

👚 What kind of clothing do they typically choose to wear? Why? Do they have any sensory issues that affect their choices?

I had to think about this one because I'm not so good at planning my characters' outfits, lol. Qweck, when she is not in her priestly robes, prefers flowy, comfortable clothes - the kinds that are good for keeping cool during hot Chelish summers. Things like long flowy skirts with a light drapey tunic, or wide legged pants if skirts aren't appropriate. When she moves to Kintargo she adapts that into long coats or sweaters over closer fitted pants to keep warm and dry during the rainy Kintargo winters, before returning to her usual style in the summer. In terms of colors, she prefers that her clothes be more muted. Most of the color of her look comes from her bright green hair or her eyes or even her non-bleached skin. She also is not a huge fan of printed or overly embroidered clothes, preferring that each item of clothing be a single color, maybe having a second as an accent. (She makes an exception to her dislike of embroidery for clothes that Theo mended for her - before Rivad he was quite the embroiderer, and anytime he mended anything, it ended up with a happy little bug or flower stitched onto it. Those little bugs become even more precious to her after Theo can't make them anymore)