#if it isn’t a circus did you really run tos

[vespertine-legacy]

Raid tonight was such a circus

Not sure who decided we were going to do ToS. But we actually did have the Saturday team live up to its original purpose a little, with people changing up to roles they don’t do as often. So I got to dps with Princess, which was really fun.

I don’t know how much of it was desync (desync? in my swtor?), and how much was just honk honk clown noises, but we spent so much time on Walkers, and I lost count of how many times Princess and I blew each other up. At least once, while swapping between Walkers, we’d both yeet ourselves over, directly into Ground Missiles, and one or both of us would go splat. For a while though, I must have had a Friendly Fire target on my head - Tom and Suff both killed me with the purple circles after grav well, Ray killed me with a ground missile, somebody killed me with the grenade, at one point Frenzy was like “okay, who killed november this time?!” (Granted, the time in question, it was like Princess and I had stepped on a landmine and just both been obliterated, and while we were both killed by the same thing according to StarParse, we were under different Walkers, and then the bastards threw the grenade at my corpse for good measure).

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Sadism & Trolling (Vega Headcanons)

NGL, I’m gonna be straight with y’all...

I miss Vega! And uh, since I've been listening to his videos lately, I wanted to write a oneshot for him until I decided on some headcanons at the last minute. 

I'm not sure what role the Inchoate Daemon Listener in his more recent videos would play in the future, so I tried my hands on writing his 'lover'. I always wanted to write a morally dubious Listener anyway! 

So this is entirely separate from the Inchoate Daemon Listener. 

Vega calls his Listener 'Hamster' for their snacking habits. He would only calls you 'Dear heart' when he's feeling vulnerable or in intimate situations. 

He meets them before Ivan's story. He was actually walking around humans for a change of pace, feeding on the faint lingering negative emotions hovering around the park. It's the human equivalent of getting a cup of coffee in the morning to kickstart their day.

Suddenly, Vega felt intense and strange emotions coming from somewhere in the area. It's a combination of righteous fury, hurt and glee. 

He tracks the owner of the maelstrom to find you. A lone human sitting on a bench underneath a tall, shady tree. Your expression is a total contrast to what you're feeling. It's calm and almost bored. 

After using magic to do some digging and breaching personal privacy, Vega found out that you plan an act of horrible revenge on a cheating partner. He sticks around to watch it all play out. 

He loved the show. So much so he claims you as his charge. 

However, jokes on him; you're a passive and lazy person. Your default setting is living life operating on the least amount of brain cells and effort. So after feeding on your heartbreak from the breakup, Vega has no idea what the fuck to do with you. 

So he subtly pulls the strings around you in hopes to get you to feel upset or at least annoyed; coffee spilt on your work laptop, someone bought that last slice of your favourite cake, bad internet connection at home, anything! 

But the most you'd (unknowingly) give him is a sigh before you look for something else to occupy your time. To Vega, he feels like a first-time owner to a pet that isn't behaving as it should be. You're like a hamster running in its ball, utterly oblivious of the world outside.  

When you do react emotionally, it's like a wildfire - a roaring and unapologetic blaze that will burn for days. Especially when it comes to negative emotions. However, it takes such a long time to build up and rarely does it even spark. Honestly, to you, working up to such a passionate response is a hassle. 

Unfortunately for Vega, he realises this a little too late. 

The two of you officially meet when you begin to notice that certain objects around the house aren't exactly where they should be. Like how the coffee cup that you instinctively put away from the laptop is now right next to it when you came out of the bathroom. How you can never find your favourite red mug or t-shirt despite you just wash them. 

Slowly but surely, you feel like you suddenly gain an invisible annoying and unwanted roommate. 

Vega detects your annoyance and plans to 'farm' it, only for it to hilariously backfire when you begin to hit up the local priests to discuss about an exorcism and thus, raise a potential covert risk. 

When he first appeared in front of you, your immediate action was to grab a baseball bat, shock and indignation flare within you. 

"So you're the fucking bastard that has been eating my fucking Pringles!" 

"What!? No! And I swear to any God you believe in, I’ll make you regret it if you swing that thing at me."

“Hah! Is that a challenge!? Buy back my snacks. Now. Before I break your bones and sell them to the black market!”

"News flash, Hamster: you're the one who's been eating all of them. Those after midnight snacks? What? Did you think you were sleep-eating?" 

"Who are you calling hamster!?"

"Of course, that's the one you have a problem with..." 

Do you know that one Tv Trope? The 'savvy guy, energetic girl' and 'monster and the maiden'? You and Vega are something in-between, where Vega is determined to feed on you, his charge, while you make it your life mission to be his biggest inconvenience ever. 

That being said, there's a lot of things you share in common with him. For one thing, you live by the 'not my circus, not my monkey' rule, so you don't particularly care what Vega does outside of your life as long as it doesn't cause you any problems. 

You both can be petty AF, and if one is petty, the other will automatically prepare for the other's revenge. 

Vega likes to give you shit for being an Unempowered Human, and in return, you would do everything in your power to piss him off. EX: You’ll make a joke about his shoe size. You know what they say, small shoes mean small... package. And besides, he's a Daemon, right? Doesn't that mean he has hooves? 

Both of you toed the line between violence and resignation, which is impressive that you're still alive. You made it clear to him that if he wants to take you down, you'll take him down with you, and Vega can respect that. 

Vega starts to catch feelings for you after you blackmail him into going to the cinema with you because there's a discount on the tickets for a pair of friends/couple. He's shocked to find that he enjoyed himself that night. 

As for you, you start to feel fond of him when he orchestrated a string of misfortune on your asshole of a colleague. He never once admit it, but at that point, you could read his body language and behaviours rather well. How could you not when your colleague’s series of unfortunate events result in a whole week of nothing but good vibes for you.

Neither you nor Vega confesses your feelings, but you ended up in a romantic relationship nonetheless.

Vega has never fallen in love before, so this emotion is very strange and new for him. From his annoying charge, you've become his most cherished person in the world. 

Vega protects you the only way he knows how. By making the people who upset you miserable or just straight up terminate their trial period of existence. As a Sadism Daemon, Vega is very well aware of the stigma that comes with his kind, and it really doesn't help that he loves what he does, so you have to rein him in from time to time. 

On that note, expect this Daemon to be possessive as hell. No matter what you do around the house, Vega would attach himself to you. Oh, you're working on the couch with the laptop on your lap? He'll move you so you'll sit on his lap while he watches TV. You're relaxing in the bathtub? Scoot forward, he wants to sit behind you. If you're talking to a friend on the phone, he'll peppered kisses and leave hickies on your neck in an attempt for you to end the call. If he could, he would hide you from the world itself so only he could have you. So please stomp on his feet when he starts to sweetly suggest you disappear with him. 

If it's raining at night, both of you would silently lie on the bed together, just basking in one the other's presence. If you fall asleep first, Vega will turn you into his little spoon.

In terms of dating and due to his possessive and protective nature, most of your dates would be in your home. Movie marathons, him playing as your audience for your video game matches, monopoly sessions ending up in a messy divorce sitcom or just napping together. Good for you if you're a homebody. If you're the outgoing type? Good luck; you'll need to be as persuasive as him to budge Vega. The most Vega is willing to go are breakfast/lunch/dinner dates. The fewer eyes on you, the better. 

It's not long before Vega stops feeding on you entirely. He only takes a few destructive emotions that overwhelm you and help you work the rest out in a healthy manner. 

That's when he starts to think about spending his forever with you. 

Don't be mistaken, though; Vega is still a sadism Daemon that doesn’t take kindly to those getting in his way but to you? His one happiness in life? He's your loyal lover. 

-

OK. I might have gone a bit crazy with Vega but in my defence, I had like 3 mugs of tea and a tub of Belgian chocolate ice-cream and ramen last night after midnight plus a weird longing for him. 

It’s weird. 

[ladymercysletters]

A Chime of Bells

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Part 5 of the If You’ll Have Me Series

Word Count : 3190

Warnings: 18+ Only - smut at the end obvs!

A/N: So this is the last official part of the series but I have so many spin off ideas and little moments I’d like to write about, as well as a prequal of how Y/N comes to be Duchess of Pembrokeshire ... also more Granville. Basically this series isn’t over and I will write more!!!

***

The warm summer breeze hit you as you stepped out of the church, the clear bright sky making the arches of blush roses stand out against the stark blue. You wobbled slightly as you stepped on the old cobbles of the church steps and you gripped tighter to the arm around yours, looking up to see Benedict smiling down at you. His gloved hand covered yours as you walked together to the awaiting carriage. The small ceremony had been held away from London, in the little church of the village nearest your new home. Benedict had never favoured London society and, London society, had never really favoured you. To that end Benedict had purchased a reasonably sized house on the Kent coast, only a short distance from Aubrey Hall but far enough that the ton would not easily come calling.

Benedict proffered a hand to help you into the carriage. “Mrs Bridgerton” he beckoned to you with a lopsided grin which you mirrored. Following after you, into the carriage, Benedict slid in beside you and rested his arm around your shoulder as the carriage began to move – the sound of church bells and his siblings cheering your departure ringing behind you. As the carriage trundled down the country lane, on its way to Aubrey Hall Benedict turned to you. “Are you happy to be Mrs Bridgerton?” he asked suddenly. You looked over, shocked.

Of Course, you were happy to be a Mrs Bridgerton, to be his wife. Surely, he knew how much you cared for him, how much you loved him. Your engagement hadn’t been particularly long but you both knew you knew each other long before you were seen together for the first time. “No. I’m ecstatic!” you smiled at his worried brow, cupping his cheek as you pulled him in to a kiss. He pulled back a little after returning the kiss. Only enough to see your glossy eyes staring back at him – his hand coming to cover yours that was placed on his cheek.

“But you were a Duchess.” He whispered just to you, leaning in closer to touch your foreheads together. “Now you’re just Mrs Bridgerton.” You laughed. His tone suggested that was a bad thing; and you knew, Benedict of all people cared as much for titles as he did for what ribbons his mother had chosen for Hyacinths bridesmaids dress.

“You should know by now that I do not care for titles. And being Mrs Bridgerton, is most definitely better than any title.” Your hand stroked his face, realisation blooming on it of how stupid he was being. Neither of you cared for a title and he knew that; but you were always expected to marry up in society and Benedict knew that by marrying him, you were marrying down. His arm wrapped behind you came to pull you in closer, so you were almost in his lap. His hand left yours and pulled your legs over his, so now you were. Your arms wrapped themselves over his broad shoulders and pulled him back to you, determined to show him just how happy you were.

Though the ceremony was small, which you had both wanted, Benedict had argued (unsuccessfully) for the size of the reception. It was a grand affair, held at Aubrey Hall, and true to his mother’s ‘suggestions’ the ballroom was crammed full of the crème de la crème of the ton. Although a lot of the ton were in attendance, thanks to Benedict’s last-minute interference with the guest list you made sure to only invite people you actually wanted there, including a lot of your artistic friend’s, making a surprisingly good impression on even some of the more reserved members of Society.

“Mrs Bridgerton.” A deep voice spoke from behind you. You turned to see Sir Henry Granville smiling at you over his glass. He bowed to you before joining you watch your guests.

“Sir Granville.” You smiled as you curtsied to him, “I do hope you are enjoying the evening?”

“Immensely darling.” He sighed “I do hope that now you are a married lady that will not mean that you, or your gorgeous new husband, will stay too long away from town.” Your eyes flit over to your gorgeous husband. Benedict stood by the wall of large arched windows, laughing with Colin at something Penelope Featherington had said. Oh the poor girl, her mother had dressed her again: a shimmering orange gown that matched her hair, with a delicate green lace to cut the two in half … she looked like a carrot. Your eyes drew back to Benedict; you could see from the other side of the room the laughter lines by his eyes, and the slight crookedness of his teeth that seemed to make him all the more cute. You only managed to sigh in response as you were lost in the scene before you, so content with your life for the first time in forever. Granville took your wispy sighs as confirmation he would not see either of you at his soirees for some months and stifled a giggle into his glass as he took a sip.

The party carried on until well into the evening, dancing and merriment stretched through several rooms of Aubrey Hall, and the gardens, where one lady of the ton was taught to juggle by several circus performers who had arrived earlier in the evening. By one in the morning you and Benedict were waving the last of your guests off from the front steps. Slumped against one another with silly grins on both of your faces, it was safe to say that the both of you were a little tired and a little tipsy. Violet Bridgerton had retired to bed just after midnight, shooing her youngest two back up the stairs with her from where they had been watching the party. Daphne and Simon had departed to their room shortly after as well, followed by Francesca who had to be carried to bed by Colin after falling asleep in a chair in the library. You and Benedict turned back to go inside. The footmen and maids had already started the clear up of the ballroom and gardens, picking up dropped napkins and sweeping away smashed glass. You bid Anthony and Kate goodnight, thanking them for hosting the evening; Colin followed after, cravat loose and waistcoat already unbuttoned. You didn’t even see Eloise go to bed, but you were told by Colin she had snuck away when one unfortunate young lord had made a most ungentlemanly remark and received a heeled slipper to the shin.

You and Benedict giggled at Colin’s retelling of the event, watching in contented silence as the last of the Bridgerton’s ascended the stairs. Well almost the last of the Bridgertons. You turned in Benedict’s arms to face him, smiling lazily at each other as his face came to rest in the curve of your neck. The light feeling that had been growing in your stomach bloomed in your chest as he began leaving soft, butterfly kisses along a column of soft skin there, just where you liked it. Your fingers clung onto his shoulders as your knees weakened. His hands roamed your back, the wide expanse of them and the heat they exuded seeped through your gown and sent goosebumps rippling over you.

By the time you were outside your room Benedict had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately as he searches blindly for the knob to open it. When he finally got you inside your honeymoon suite, he didn’t put you down, pressing you against the closed door as his hands slid up your thighs and under the layers and layers of chiffon and silk. Hastily ridding you of your silk stockings, the feel of his rough, artists, hands on your thighs made them quake around him, pulling a smirk from his mouth as he bit at your lower lip. Your hands found their way to his hair; the soft thick curls running through your fingertips felt divine and mad you cling to him further as he moved you over to the bed, pressing you back against the bed post so he could lower you to the floor.

His hands not leaving your body he pulled your long gown up your body as he stood to his full height. Pulling at the small bow at the back of your neck, he lifted the dress clean off of you – leaving you leaning against the dark oak bedpost, in your thin chemise. Benedict stared in awe at the practically see through garment: the pale fabric skimming down your body like warm milk. Your name echoed deeply from his chest as he eyed you hungrily; his eyes, usually so soft and tender, now looked dark and possessing. He stood for a moment, mind racing with the view before him. He had made love to you before, but now you were his wife. His. Wife. Forever. And the way you looked up at him through your lashes, not coy but knowing. You knew what you did to him, what you were doing to him. He could feel the length in his breeches growing with every movement of his eyes over your body. Breathing steadily through his nose to calm his heartbeat he tried to ignore the growing throbbing at the restraining fabric.

“You’re wearing too many clothes Mr Bridgerton” your silky words pulling him out of his daze as he looked to your face once more, stepping closer to encompass you.

“As my wife.” He paused “Mrs Bridgerton. I believe it is your responsibility to solve that.” He finished, his deep smooth voice mere inches from your ear. You slowly pushed his jacket from his shoulders, watching with a smouldering gaze as he assisted by pulling his cravat from his collar. Your eyes burnt into one another as neither broke eye contact, smiling, even as he toed off his boots. He made short work of his waistcoat, shucking it off as you began to unbutton his loose shirt, feeling his warm skin through the billowing linen. One he was free of it his hands wrapped back around your waist, not wasting a second in pulling you back into a steaming kiss, his tongue tracing your soft bottom lip, begging for entrance as his hands delicately try and pull the pins keeping your hair in place.

You spoke his name into the air like a prayer when you felt his heat seep into your bones, trailing your hands down his strong chest to pull his shirt free from his trousers, fingertips gently brushing over his stiff cock – trapped in confinement as you did so.

“Oh my love” he moaned as your hands brushed against his length. “Y/N, darling” he murmured, kisses departing from your lips to trail down your neck once more, his breeches falling no sooner than the buttons popped. As he bent down to kick them away, he grasped your legs again, circling them around his hips as he turned to kneel on the bed, walking you up onto it. His lips remained on yours, worshipping every piece of skin he could lay them on before lowering you back, softly so your head rested gently on the pillows beneath you.

As you landed on your back you smiled giddily up at him. The fleeting image of your last wedding night flashing before your eyes before you blinked and Benedict reappeared. Happiness flooded you as you thought of the comparison. Benedict’s soft kisses drew you out of your haze and you found yourself stroking his cheek as you had done in the carriage earlier. The soft murmur of his name drew his eyes back up to yours

“Yes, darling” the way his deep voice said those words, you don’t think you’d ever be used to that.

“I love you” you pushed at his chin to kiss him, savouring the way he felt above you, on top of you, how he tasted. You never want this moment to end and you couldn’t believe he was yours, Your Benedict. Smiling int your kiss, he pulled back when he felt wet on his cheek, realising you were crying into the kiss.

“Y/n, what is the matter?” he asked, worried.

“I’m just so happy my dear” you smiled as you cried some more; brushing a soft curl from his eyes that had flopped over into view. A comforting hand came to circle your waist once more, pulling you ever closer to his as his worship of your skin continued.

“Y/N. I love you so much.” His muffled words pressed into your neck in the form of kisses. “I will love you until the day I die and continue loving you long after.” He whispered “for as long as you’ll have me.” He smiled, tears in his eyes too.

“Make love to me?” you whisper into the space between you.

“Always” he smiled, kissing you once more on your lips, and continuing to press meaningful kisses down your clavicle and between your breasts, cupping them and inhaling your sweet scent as it surrounded him. As he descended lower on your body, his hands roamed and rumpled the soft silk of your delicate chemise, pushing it up your legs in a silent plea. You sat up to pull the chemise over your head, falling back again as Benedict’s soft lips graced your thighs, making you jump when he used his teeth to gently scrape at the soft flesh. You loved when he settled between your thighs, the way his tongue slide over your centre, the way it gently parted your lips and pressed you open against his face made you feel so alive. His eagerness to please you and draw any sound he could from between your lips made you shake with lust. As he sucked at you bud his eyes looked up at you through long dark lashes – the piercing blue of his eyes just visible above your thatch of hair. Your hand came down to card through his hair, pulling at it, not knowing whether you wanted him to stop and fuck you properly, or have him keep going forever.

“Every time I taste you, you get more and more exquisite” he growled, crawling back over you to steal a kiss from your bitten red lips, making you taste yourself from his glossy tongue.

“Benedict, get this off” you pleaded into his mouth, pulling as his open shirt.  Complying with your wishes he tugged it over his head, revealing himself in all his glory. You’d never get tired of that sight.

“Now” he growled possessively “Where was I?”

“Taking your wife for the very first time?” you laugh softly at the insinuation. He lowered himself to cover you once more, his hand pulling your leg up over his thigh.

“Ah yes” he crooned smoothly “The very first time” his words punctuated by is head pushing into you. Since your re-entrance into society, many eyes had been beadily spying on you wherever you went, making rendezvous’ with Benedict all the more difficult - and when news of your announcement spread, any meeting outside of customary events had completely ceased. The stretch of his girth as he moved deeper into you sent a chill up your spine. You had missed the way he made love to you, the way he felt inside of you, and the way you could make him feel. Ever since that fortnight at Pembroke House, you had made it your life’s mission to give Benedict every ounce of pleasure you could.

As his thrust’s became rhythmic your moans began to echo into the darkened room. You began to roll your hips up to meet his, revelling the fullness and ecstatic ache of his cock inside you. His slow steady thrusts were scratching an itch but not fulfilling your need for him. You needed it faster; harder; you wanted to feel him in the morning and remember it whenever you found yourself in boring company. Benedict was getting lost in his rhythm, you could tell. His head was bent forward between you as he watched where he disappeared inside of you. His deep moans and hot heavy breaths hit your chest.

You raked your nails up his back, drawing his attention to your face as his head tipped back at the sensation. You took the opportunity to roll him over, pressing a hand to his chest to lay him down as you straddled his hips. Benedict’s hands came to rest on your hips as you pushed yourself back over down his thick silken cock, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh bound to leave their mark in either colour or feel.  As you began to roll your hips you watched with delight as his head rolled further back into the pillows, the long column of his neck exposed fully. The sight of him, you were sure, could soothe the blind and, if only you were an artist, you would be sure to capture this very image.

“Oh Fuck” Benedict moaned after a particularly forceful roll of your hips. He began thrusting as ell as he could under you; opening his eyes to see you bracing one hand behind you on his shin, rolling your nipple in the other. The debauched scene before him made him double his efforts, grasping your hips and fucking up into you from below – allowing his thumb to stray down to your bud.

“Benedict” you prayed once more, arms giving out as you lay across him, only managing to hold yourself up with your elbows by his head. The change in angle allowed him to take more control from under you, biting into your shoulder as he drove you to orgasm, determined to feel your velvet hot core tighten around him. His calloused hands slid over you, brushing the soft peaks of your nipples as they cupped your breasts. He pulled one into his mouth as the other hand pressed you down onto his length. “Please”

“Yes “he breathed, feeling you pulse around him. “You’re so close my love. Come on, do it. I want to feel you over me.” His demand tipped you over the edge. The deep rumble of his words vibrating through you as an electric storm coursed through your veins. Benedict followed after you with a groan muffled into you neck. His cock pulsing seed into you until he was completely spent.  

Rolling over next to him you collapsed back onto the cool sheets – turning your head to see him already looking at you, both sharing lazy grins as you caught your breath together. Benedict moved his hand just an inch to encapsulate yours, slowly dragging it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of your fingers.

“That was amazing.” You sighed, just about managing to speak and certainly not having the energy to move. Benedict’s hand flopped back down onto the bed, still holding yours.

“Yes it was” he whispered, pulling a thin sheet over the both of you as you settled into the stillness of the night.