#implied painted/Sebastian

[katamarv1]

Convo our Gabriel and Sebastian fictives recently had

[lady-phasma]

Martyrdom

The Vampire Armand x gn!reader

Warnings: not that many really, tragically over-dramatic comfort, implied canon trauma if you know a little about Armand’s history (book or series)

Summary: 1k words of 🥺 and comforting our beautiful monster.

a/n: so yeah, I had to work out some stuff between 2.07 and 2.08 because Armand needs some comfort. This is the most melodramatic thing I have ever written. This was going to be fem!reader but then it really wasn’t important to the comfort so it became gn!reader.

Armand didn’t stir as you walked in. His head was bowed, iPad balanced in one hand, tapping at the screen with the other. His dark curls framed his face. You knew he heard you, of course he did, but whatever was happening on his tablet was engrossing. You walked behind the sofa and rested your head on his shoulder. A glance at the screen showed you an online art auction. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss his neck, ear, and cheek. His singular focus wasn’t unusual but when you looked back at his iPad you saw the thumbnail and item description.

The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian - Marius de Romanus

You straightened up and let your hand linger on his shoulder for a moment. He wouldn’t move from that spot until he owned the painting.

When the bidding was closed he found you in the bedroom on your own iPad. You looked up as he walked in. The blank expression he wore was a familiar sight. He didn’t look sad or dejected as others might. Sometimes he simply didn’t emote. But his eyes would betray him. He didn’t make eye contact with you right away. However, he wouldn’t have come to you if he wanted to be alone.

He thought often, spoke less, about broken things, people he had loved. He rarely spoke of those who had broken him. Sometimes you caught a glimpse of him when he felt unobserved and the vacancy in his eyes would be filled with regret and remorse.

“You own a new painting?” You asked with no inflection. You closed the iPad’s cover and set it on the night stand as he sat on his side of the bed. His back was to you, shoulders stiff.

“Yes.”

“When will it arrive?” You didn’t really need to know, but wanted him to know you understood the significance.

“Approximately 4-6 weeks,” his tone was flat. “Possibly sooner.”

“When was the last time you saw it?”

“500 years ago, give or take.”

“‘Give or take?’” He couldn’t see your raised brows.

“492, I believe.” His shoulders slumped slightly.

“What’s the provenance?” You didn’t expect him to answer.

“Venice, Milan, Prague, a few years unaccounted for, then Berlin,” his tone had changed. Rather, there was now tone to his words. The mildest hint of pain colored the city names. It had changed so many hands. It wasn’t rare for a painting to have been sold before the fire. It was the nature of the painting and who you could assume may have commissioned it, that concerned you. Possibly it was for the Church, but more likely for a private patron. Even so, had it been in a church, a museum? Hundreds of eyes moved by the martyrdom of a real boy who they would never think about. Did they even think of the model for Sebastian at all or only of the saint and his ecstasy? If Armand had wanted you to know that a public institution had once held it he would have said. You didn’t press.

You watched him as he slipped off his shoes and turned to sit more comfortably. His long fingers toyed with the crease of his pant leg. He stared off, looking at nothing, for a moment. Then he turned to you. Your heart ached for him. It did from time to time when he would casually mention something from his past, but this was different. You had only seen an expression like this a couple times before. You looked at him, unsmiling, but with a soft gaze, no judgement. For a moment he looked as if he would speak then he closed his mouth, his lips forming a tight line.

Armand wanted to tell you about the nausea he felt, a peculiar feeling, increasingly rare at his age, when the alert had appeared on his phone. He wanted to tell you that he even had an alert for Marius’s name, but he couldn’t. He had never told you everything, there was far too much to tell. But he had told you the broad strokes. He felt he might never tell anyone all of the details, those he could remember, except in the rare moments of weakness when he was jealous of Louis’s and Lestat’s ability to reveal everything.

You sat up straighter and moved toward him. You gently touched his face. He leaned into your hand as you cupped his cheek. His brow furrowed slightly and he closed his eyes. You stroked his cheek with your thumb. You let your hand slide down to his neck. He sighed quietly and when he opened his eyes to look at you, he became every bit the ancient creature trapped in a young man’s body. Every wrong done, every hurt inflicted, every lie told, by him and to him, turbulent beneath his ageless façade. Over 500 years of mistakes, violence, atonement, none of it truly forgotten.

Your fingers gently caressed the back of his neck as you held his gaze. You couldn’t conceal the expression on your face, the compassion and disconsolation. Slowly you moved your hand to his shoulder and guided him toward you. Armand gave in. He rested his head in your lap, his body folded up alongside your outstretched legs. You leaned back against the pillows and headboard. One hand automatically began stroking his hair, smoothing it back from his face. The other lay against his back, making small circles with your fingers against his shoulder blade.

He felt his shoulders relax first, then the tightness in his chest began to fade. He hadn’t realized tears had started to well in his eyes until he closed them. None came, but he was unsure how long they would stay away this time. He sighed heavily and let himself soften against you. Your steady, consistent movements were a balm to the raging of conflicting emotions inside him. He would think of them another day, perhaps when the painting arrived. Now, in this moment, he could rest.

Note about the painting: The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian, Marco Basaiti (active 1496-1530 in Venice), located in Santa Maria della Salute, Venice

Masterlist

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Prologue

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

Letting out deep breaths, I continued up the stairs to the sixth floor of the apartment complex I had called home. It was after midnight but that didn’t stop the neighbors from blaring their music or have yet another argument. My nose scrunched up in disgust as the familiar smell of garbage and body odor filled the air and after finally making it to my floor, I knew I had one more obstacle to cross before making it inside safely. 

The next door neighbor that every single night for the past week had tried asking me out. My Romanian was a bit rusty but I knew when a guy was hitting on me. 

“Hey beautiful.” 

Groaning at the gruff voice, I turned on my heels and gave him a curt nod. “Hi.”

I went to unlock the door but could feel his presence creep closer towards me. My fingers slipped into my pocket and slowly pulled out my knife. 

“Fundul tău arată bine în blugi acei.” He placed his arm against the doorframe to my apartment, trapping me between him.

I scoffed. “I may not know much Romanian but I don’t need to be fluent to know that when someone is talking about how good my ass looks in my jeans.”

His mouth opened to speak but the door opened behind me. I didn’t have to look who opened the door, I could tell from the heat radiating off the body. And the feelings that weren’t my own of jealousy and rage filled my veins. 

“Totul in regula?” Everything alright?

I looked over towards Bucky and nodded. “I’m fine, Bucky.” 

The creep took in one quick glance of Bucky before retreating back into his apartment, clearly not knowing I was living with a man twice his size. 

Bucky remained blocking the doorway and when I looked into his eyes, I found myself sucking in a breath. In the week we’d been in hiding, he had let his beard grow a bit more and it was now that I realized how blue his eyes were; a deep ocean. Licking my lips, I stood taller after realizing how close we were standing and nodded behind him. 

“Are you going to let me in?” I joked. 

After giving me a small smile, he stepped to the side allowing me to walk past him inside. He did a quick glance around the landing and staircase before shutting the door behind us. The sound of locks clicking together sounded behind me as I looked around our new home. 

It wasn’t the best apartment by any means. I did have money saved up, enough to get us by for a while, but I had to do what I could to save it. Bucky had no money so it was up to me to provide for us. I didn’t mind at all but we had to make some sacrifices and a nice apartment was at the top of the list. 

Newspapers lined all of the windows, not allowing anyone from the outside to look in, even though we were on the sixth floor. There was the bathroom to my left and the only thing good about it was the bright blue towel we had hanging on the almost broken towel bar. The paint was peeling all over the apartment but it didn’t bother us. We only had one bed, well more so a mattress, and it laid on the floor of the apartment. We each had one pillow and there was only one blanket. We were also able to find a couch for pretty cheap at the local market in town and that’s where Bucky slept every night. 

He still didn't feel comfortable with sharing the bed with me and not wanting to push him, I agreed that he could have the couch. I did have to admit, it was adorable seeing how small he made the couch look while laying on it. 

The kitchen would become cramped when both Bucky and I tried cooking something at the same time; which wasn’t often since we had opted for getting food delivered. 

For the first few days of living here we tried our best to stay inside, opting to go out into public if we absolutely needed to. And when we did, we wore anything to help conceal our identity. I went out more than Bucky would, him being afraid someone from his past would recognize him. 

It was then that I noticed he had made a make-shift shelf with a few two by fours and cement blocks. 

“You love to read so I thought I could make you something that you could put your books on,” he said when he noticed me staring at it. “It may be a bit shaky.” 

Immediately I waved him off. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

We both stood in our respective places, staring at each other, and the feeling of desire warmed my insides. Bucky must have noticed because he shook his head, letting out a quiet scoff. 

“Stop that.” Was all he said. 

“It’s not my fault!” I defended myself. “I can’t help it that I can not only feel your pain but your feelings too!” 

“I’ve been thinking,” He started, immediately changing the subject.

“What about?” I questioned while putting away the groceries. 

Bucky’s hands grazed over mine as he took the box of spaghetti from me and placed it in the top cabinet; the one I couldn’t reach. His back was to me so I could see the way his shoulders tensed and I felt fear cloud my mind. 

“Bucky,” I spoke softly while placing a hand over his flesh arm. “What’s wrong?”

He remained silent but gave a quick look over his shoulder to the door, eyes trained hard against it. His eyebrows scrunched together and he tilted his head to the side, almost mimicking an animal that heard something off in the distance. 

Oh. 

“Do you hear something?” I asked. 

Every footstep or every voice put Bucky on high alert, especially with the super soldier hearing. He found himself staying up way after I had gone to bed, sitting on the couch with his eyes and ears on the door. He wouldn’t admit it to me but I knew he was terrified of Hydra finding him again, turning him back into Soldat. 

“It’s nothing,” he reassured me before busying himself with unloading the rest of the stuff I had picked up from the store. “I still don’t understand why you have to go late at night.” 

I shrugged. “Less people and less chance of someone recognizing me.” 

“More creeps,” Bucky reminded me. 

“I am more than capable of taking care of myself,” I stated back with a smile. “You’re not the only one that’s good with a knife.” 

And if that wasn’t enough to reassure him that I could handle my own, I snapped my fingers together causing a small flame to spark between them. Bucky held his hands up, knowing when he lost the argument and we continued to put everything away in silence. 

“Bucky, I’m home!” I called, entering the small apartment. 

Soft music came flooding into the room from the outside and I followed it to the balcony. A smile spread to my lips as I took in the sight in front of me. Bucky was sitting in one of the fold up chairs with the leather bound journal in his lap. It could see that there were sentences upon sentences written. The soft tune of a song from the 1940’s played on his phone but what warmed my heart the most was seeing Bucky finally using the journal I had bought him. 

I bought it shortly after we settled because I thought it would be a good idea for him to write down anything he would remember; a memory or even him remembering that he loved plums. This was the first time in six months that I had seen him open it. 

“Keep staring at me and your eyes are going to be stuck.” Bucky joked while closing the journal. 

Oh, I don’t think I would mind one bit. 

“I really hate your super hearing. I bet you could hear me the second I stepped foot into the building,” I smiled while sitting on the chair opposite of him. 

“How was work?” He questioned. 

He went to turn off the music but I stopped him, saying that I didn’t mind it. 

“It was okay. The really bad bar creeps seem to come out in the day rather than night,” I shrugged. 

I had been bartending at the pub across the street for a few months now and while it was true that the daylight seemed to bring out the worst of the creeps of Bucharest, the money was really good so I tried not to complain too much. 

Bucky’s heart rate sped so I placed a hand on his knee, letting him know that I was fine. “No one bothers me, Bucky.”

I kept my hand on his knee when I realized that it wasn’t making him uncomfortable. Even though we had been with each other every day for the last six months, we still had yet to make a move on taking whatever relationship we had to the next level. I promised him one night that I wouldn’t push him, let him find himself first, then we can talk about our relationship. We were friends living together. 

“I’ll let you get back to writing,” I motioned towards his journal while standing up. 

“You’re not going to ask what I’m writing?” He wondered, confusion on his face. 

I mirrored my own confusion to him. “Why would I? Those are your private thoughts, Bucky. I won’t read them unless you want me to.”

Turning my back to him to enter back into the apartment, I felt cold fingers lace with my own and tugging me back towards him. “Hm?” 

He remained silent, only bringing my hand to his lips and I felt warmth spread through me when he laid a soft kiss on my knuckles. 

“Thank you, Y/N” he breathed against my knuckles. 

“Anything for you, Bucky.” 

I tossed and turned on the mattress, a quiet groan slipped through my lips. My fingertips padded on the mattress next to me for my phone and when I saw what time it was, another groan slipped out. It was after two a.m and I had been trying to fall asleep for the last 3 hours. Bucky and I had spent the last few days finally getting our apartment settled after I had worked three doubles in a row. Needless to say I was exhausted. 

Forcing my eyes shut, I placed a pillow over my face, hoping that would help. However, I sat up with a start as I heard whimpering coming from the body next to me. Bucky was fast asleep on the couch; or so I thought. 

His large body twitched and in the dim light, I could see the lines of his mouth pulled together in a hard line. The feeling I had surging through me told me one thing; he was having a nightmare. 

In the year of living with him and sleeping next to him, I had yet to notice him have a nightmare. I knelt on the mattress and gently placed my hand on his metal arm while giving him a quick shake. 

“Buck? Are you alright?” I whispered. 

Bucky’s eyes snapped open and the fingers of his metal arm wrapped around my throat cutting off my airway with a gasp. My body fell onto the mattress while Bucky straddled my hips. His eyes were gone, almost black, as he stared into me. I could feel his heartbeat quicken as the grip on my throat tightened. 

“Bucky,” I tried to cough out. 

My hands scratched and smacked his arm but failed. I didn’t want to have to use my powers to stop him, refusing to use it against him, but I knew if I didn’t, he would kill me. The air within slowly started to leave my body and I felt the darkness looming so with a quick snap of my fingers I felt the warmth spread through my hand. 

Wrapping my hand around Bucky’s flesh bicep, his metal one released my throat as a loud hiss escaped his throat. The air returned and I coughed loudly a few times, trying to swallow as much air as I could. Curling my hand into a fist, the fire evaporated and I felt Bucky’s body still on mine. 

“Y/N?” He asked, voice trembling. “What did I do?” 

He could tell in the dim light that marks were starting to form around my throat, guilt pulling at his heart. 

“I’m okay,” I reassured him. “You were having a nightmare and I made the mistake of trying to wake you.” 

“No,” Bucky shook his head while climbing off of me. “I could have killed you.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

I knelt in front of him and reached for his hand however he snatched them away from me. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I should go-.” 

“Bucky, stop! I’m okay!” I gripped his hand to keep him in place. “Call us even, okay?” 

I motioned to the red mark on his bicep when he looked at me confused. “I’m sorry for waking you. They’ve never been this real before.” 

“You’ve had nightmares before?” I questioned. 

We slept next to each other for the past year and I hadn’t even noticed that he was struggling with this. 

“The screams. It’s the screaming of them that haunts me.” He stuttered. 

I felt the sadness drowning me so I placed my hands on the sides of Bucky’s face and made him look at me. “It wasn’t you. What you did, that wasn’t you.” 

“But I did it.” His shoulders raised and slumped down with regret. 

Ignoring the voice of doubt that resided in the back of my mind, I knelt up closer to Bucky and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. His hands immediately grasped my hips and squeezed. 

“C’mon, lets get some sleep.” I motioned for him to lay on the mattress next to me. 

Bucky refused, afraid that if another nightmare took over what he would do. But I wouldn’t take no for an answer and pulled him down next to me. 

“Is this alright?” I asked as I laid my head on his chest. 

His heart pounded against the cage of his chest and I placed my hand on top of it, almost trying to calm him. Bucky’s breathing slowed and his metal arm wrapped around my back pulling me closer to him, letting me know that he was in fact fine with it. 

That night was the last time we slept separate and the last time Bucky would have a nightmare for a long time. 

“My God,” I gasped while my eyes scanned the article I was reading on my laptop. 

Avengers cause destruction in Sokovia. 

The article was a handful of months old, me just now getting my hands on a laptop. Bucky and I had spent the entire time here in Romania trying to stay away from the media, not wanting to know what was going on in the world and not wanting to be in the spotlight

Scrolling farther into the article, I read that Tony Stark and Bruce Banner had created Ultron who now  was on a mission to destroy everyone on earth; only wanting metal to live here. The Avengers, along with these enhanced twins, were trying to stop him. 

I couldn’t help but feel sadness and jealousy when I continued to read how the Avengers fought together against this Ultron. I could have been fighting alongside them, saving the world. But I knew that my place was here with Bucky. 

The mouse ghosted over a video on the article and after looking around the apartment to make sure Bucky wasn’t around, I clicked it open while holding my breath. 

Everyone from my former team was fighting these robot soldiers for the first half of the clip but when it cut to a different video, I sucked in my breath. Steve’s face popped up as was shown saving so many people, leading them to an old SHIELD helicarrier.. My heart ached wanting to be with him, fighting with him, and wanting to feel his body against my own once more. 

For the first few months, Steve’s face would cloud my dreams and I found myself missing him terribly every night. I told him to not look for us but a part of me knew that he wouldn’t abide by my wishes. I knew him and Sam were doing everything they could to find us. 

But now, over two years later, I found myself regretting my decision to leave; only slightly. 

“What are you watching?” 

Jumping at the voice, I went to close my laptop but a metal hand stopped me. Bucky’s eyes scanned over the article before he watched the video I had just finished watching. His face was unreadable but what scared me the most was that I could feel what he was feeling. 

Maybe I was having an off day. 

“Stark? Why do I know that name?” He wondered, mostly to himself. 

“He’s one of the richest men in New York. He also helped find The Avengers.” I said while placing my laptop on the kitchen table. 

“The Avengers?” Bucky asked. 

“I know, it’s not that great of a name. But what we did made up for it.” I defended myself. 

Bucky placed his journal on the counter and shook off his jacket, placing it on the chair in front of him. He then sat on the couch next to me. 

“We?” 

Biting my lip, I gave him a small nod. In the last two years, we were so focused on getting him better and figuring out his past, that I hadn’t given him any details about mine. Since the night of his nightmare, we became incredibly close. We still haven't made ourselves official but we shared the bed each night, tangled in each other's arms, and soft kisses on forehead and hands were as far as it got. 

I never complained once. 

“Um, I used to be a part of the team. That’s how I met Steve actually. We first came together to help defeat the Chitauri; some alien species.” I started. 

“I remember reading about that a few months ago,” Bucky admitted. 

A few months ago he spent an entire weekend reading old news stories that he had missed out on. 

“Ever since that day, I had decided to stay on Steve’s team. Now, it seems like they’re still working together.” I said with a hint of jealousy. 

“Doing what?” Bucky asked, passing me a plum. 

Taking it with gratitude, I tried the best way to bring it up without triggering him. “Uh, I guess the last few months they’ve been taking down Hydra bases to find this special scepter and they nearly leveled Sokovia trying to stop this Ultron robot. 

Bucky was silent, body rigid when I had mentioned Hydra. “I thought Hydra fell?” 

“Apparently not,” I sighed. 

We sat in a tense silence and noticed that his shoulders were straight with rage with the thought of Hydra still being a functioning terrorist group. 

“Hey,” I spoke softly. “They won’t find you. It’s been almost two and a half years. We’re going to be fine.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I, uh, added more to my journal.” 

“You did?” I smiled. 

“Those stories about the war in the 40’s helped me remember some stuff, not a lot though.” 

The disappointment in his voice broke my heart so I placed my head on his flesh shoulder, not daring to place it on the other. Every night when we would lay in bed together, I had refused to touch the scars on that shoulder. Bucky was still reserved and uncomfortable with it. 

“So,” I started, immediately wanting to change the subject. “Anything you want to do tomorrow?”

Bucky nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. “Can we go to the fruit market? We’re out of plums.” 

“You and your plums,” I giggled while wrapping my arm around his midsection. “But anything for you, Buck.” 

“Thank you, dorogaya.” He breathed against my forehead. 

We both enjoyed this new normal for us, settling into this routine fairly early on while we were in hiding. But nothing would prepare us for what was about to happen tomorrow and how it would affect the rest of our lives. 

[sorrowsofsilence]

I Was Always Yours

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 4.1k

Part Two

Warnings: smut 18+, fluff, swearing, unprotected s*x (pls wrap it b4 u tap it), female recieving, PnV penetration.

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Author note: This is short haired Noah era! <3 I just couldn’t resist using the beautiful photo of Noah above :3 Also, I haven’t written on tumblr in years, but I thought I’d come back with this fluff/smut! Enjoy if this finds you! <3

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

I finally gathered the courage to turn off my car, letting the crisp autumn air bite at my cheeks as I stepped outside. Taking in a shaky breath I allowed my legs to carry me towards the door, my hands clammy and fingers fidgety.

The boys were always simple- and even their nice townhouse was in an everyday neighbourhood, with nothing elaborate on the outside. Just as it had always been, as if time never flew by.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I’ve known Nick and Noah for years. We were neighbours growing up, went to high school together, and even shared memories from our adulthood. These boys knew me and I knew them, but I knew that things were different now. 

The boys had just finished tour, and have grown exponentially in their music careers. They walked around with security now, and had fans dedicated to finding out everything about their lives- they’ve become a spectacle; no longer just Nick, or just Noah. 

The nerves also came because I didn’t even know if I’d be seeing Noah. Admittedly, he was my first crush; and really, I don’t think it ever left. When I first met him in seventh grade he sported a shaggy haircut and a dorky grin, and he’s held my heart with iron bars ever since. Over the years I had just accepted that my feelings would never be reciprocated, and we both dated other people on and off. 

It’s been almost three years since I last got to see him due to the pandemic, and we only ever texted each other on big life events, like birthdays, or during the release of their album. I knew the boys were back when Nick sent out a message that he was looking to tattoo again. I sported a few of Nick’s pieces, but I was looking to get a cover-up of a bad decision I made during a past relationship. I texted Nick asking if he was available, and here I am; right outside Nick’s house. 

I sighed deeply, trying to persuade the anxiety out of my lungs, before knocking, following the pattern I had always used when I was younger. Within seconds I was greeted by a pair of grey-green eyes and a wide smile, my nervousness beginning to cease.

“Y/N!” I was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t know I was holding in. My grin matched his own as I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing back, laughing.

“It’s nice to see you Ruffilo.” 

We pulled away from each other and shared another smile. I took off my leather Doc Martens, straightening my fuzzy red polka-dot socks before giving him another hug, smiling into his neck.

“It’s been way too long,” Nick said, giving me an empathetic glance as we separated. “Life has just been crazy.”

“Yeah, I almost wonder if I should be bowing to you right now considering how famous you’ve gotten,” I couldn’t help but laugh, and Nick rolled his eyes, leading me down the hall. The place was neat; white paint, and light flooring. Various Bad Omen’s posters and records hung neatly on the wall, along with other abstract art pieces. It was delicate and simple, just as they way they always kept it. It’s nice to see that they haven’t changed in that regard. 

“Trust me, no bowing is required.” Nick turned back to face me, his smile radiating, before motioning at a door ahead, and I walked into a small office filled with tattoo supplies. It was Nick’s mini-home tattoo studio. 

“Wow, this is awesome Nick. You’ve always wanted your own little studio.” I said, looking at his work plastered on the wall, soaking it in with awe.

He sighed happily, “Yeah, when we were looking for a house that was one of my requirements. I needed my own space; just because we make music doesn’t mean I’ll give up tattooing.”

I nodded, taking a seat on the chair. “Thank you for seeing me by the way, I appreciate you squeezing me in.”  

“Hey, for you, I’d do anything.” He smiled warmly, sitting across from me. 

Nick and I chatted for almost an hour before even starting the tattoo. We caught up and talked about tours, and I loved getting to listen to his stories about performing and getting to travel the world. It seemed like the dream, especially considering that before the pandemic, they joked about only pleasing ten fans.

However, the entire time I felt distracted. The only thing my mind kept wandering to was if Noah was home, or if he was going to show up. I felt ashamed being so disconnected from the conversation with Nick; because he was someone I cared about deeply. Yet, my thoughts took me elsewhere. 

“You alright?” Nick asked gently, as he started preparing his supplies, glancing at me teasingly.

“Oh yeah! I’m good!” I smiled reassuringly and Nick echoed me, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I asked him, the cheesy grin plastered on his face making me nervous.

“Noah will be home soon, he’s just out with Davis.” 

I stared at him, my cheeks beginning to flush, “Okay, cool?” I shrugged nonchalantly, but my stomach immediately began doing spirals, nerves bubbling throughout my veins.

Nick wiped my thigh, preparing the location for the stencil quietly before asking, “You never told him how you felt?” 

I watched him cautiously, eyes flickering between his hands and his eyes, “I- I don’t feel anything,” I shook my head, ears getting even hotter. “That was so long ago.”

Nick looked up through his lashes, looking very unconvinced, “Sure, and I don’t play in a band.”

Rolling my eyes, I gave him an annoyed smile, “It would be nice to see him. It’s been a long time- and he doesn’t post anything online anymore, or text.”

Nick nodded as he wiped and re-drew the outline on my leg, “Noah’s been pretty recluse. He’s gotten a lot of anxiety from the fame; mostly just sticks to himself when we finish shows. Plus, he doesn’t enjoy dealing with some of the fans.” 

I frowned, feeling myself get sad. Noah has always been pretty introverted, but it looked like he was getting out of his shell on stage. He was playing into the pretty boy facade he had going, and he knew he was hot. I’ve seen plenty of videos from the tour. 

“Well, I hope he is doing alright,” I said softly, looking around the room again for any form of distraction.

As if on cue I heard the front door open, and a yell cascaded down the hall, “You better not have a girl in your room,” he had teased.

Immediately I felt the hair on my neck stand in anticipation, realizing that the voice belonged to Noah. My fingers began to tingle as all the blood rushed towards my face, my chest losing any ounce of breath I was just able to exhale.

His voice bounded across the walls again, “but, these are some pretty sick boots.”

“Got someone even better,” Nick yelled back, laughing, “In the tattoo room.”

A head of brunette hair popped in the doorway, his eyes immediately widening as if his whole world suddenly began to spin within milliseconds. A small flush of colour ran down his ears onto the tops of his cheekbones, before a wide, childlike smile appeared on his face. He stepped into the room, immediately crossing his arms, and leaning on the side of the table as if he thought he was doing something charming.

“No fucking way, look what the cat dragged in,” his Virginian accent dancing off his tongue. 

I looked back at him, my heart racing even faster. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, but he did take my breath away. Noah looked older, but healthy, becoming a lot more muscular and defined, despite his height and lank still being there. His hair was short, a layer of bangs hanging across his forehead in a messy sweep. It was the first time I’d seen him in person without his long hair, all 13 inches gone; but it suited him. I soaked in his appearance, noticing a few new tattoos layered around his fingers as well, my heart yearning. 

“Is that really my Y/N/N?” he stared at me, the grin not leaving his face, especially after using my childhood nickname. Noah walked towards me shyly with open arms, squinting his eyes in contentment as he invited me in for a hug.

“the one and only.” I breathed a nervous laugh, standing up. Shaky limbs carried me over to him and he wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me within his body. 

I composed myself, inhaling slowly, before hugging back, squeezing his torso. I felt so small compared to him, yet I still fit right between his arms, as if I was meant to always be there, a spot reserved just for me. We rocked back and forth in a tight embrace, his chest vibrating as he let out a happy chuckle. 

“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I could hear the happiness radiating off of him.

I sighed with relief at his reaction; he must’ve missed me too. He held onto me for a moment more, and I breathed in his scent, recognizing his favourite Dior cologne. Smiling into his chest, It felt comfortable- it felt familiar. Years of memories flooded back, my heart recalling, reminding myself that he was who I had been missing in my life all along. 

“Wow, you’ve changed Y/N,” Noah said as he pulled away, stepping back slightly, taking me in with a look of awe. He absorbed all of me, drinking in my image, before grabbing the sides of my face, and staring into me with an immense amount of appreciation. 

I looked up at him in admiration, studying his deep October eyes as they sang unspoken words, retelling a story that only our bodies knew. 

“Your hair,” I said as my hand unconsciously found its way to his locks.

My fingers flowed down his no longer existing threads, reminiscing of his past image. That chapter of his life was gone. He’s been reborn into a much more confident man, a newer version of the Noah that once was. I almost longed for his old appearance, because I didn’t know this Noah- but by the way his eyes gleamed, he was still mine. 

Noah chuckled, “Yeah, I was tired of getting it in my mouth when singing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his hand, before pulling away to look at Nick.

Nick gave us a sly smile, shaking his head gently. 

“I didn’t expect to see you,” Noah sighed, still smiling. I swear it hasn’t left his face since he saw me. He looked over at Nick, “And you didn’t even tell me?”

“I thought it would be a fun surprise,” Nick looked at Noah playfully, before patting the tattoo chair. I took a seat again, positioning my thigh within Nick's reach. 

“You’re getting some ink?” Noah asked, folding his arms in approval as he leaned over me, looking at the stencil outlined on my skin. 

“Yeah, Nick said he wanted to tattoo again, and I needed an excuse to visit,” I said cheekily. 

Noah nodded repeatedly, still analyzing my thigh. “You never needed an excuse. You should’ve texted us. Texted me.”

I shrugged, “I didn’t want to get in the way. You guys are busy- especially now. the last thing you need is unnecessary messages or phone calls.” 

“I haven’t seen you in like three years Y/N,” Noah said, sighing a sad smile. He sat down on a stool, folding his ankle over his knee. 

Nick began to outline the tattoo, and I winced briefly,  “I know.” 

“You never came to see us on this tour.” Noah looked at the floor, analyzing the outline of his white vans. I glanced at him quickly, before concentrating on Nick’s hands. “You know we’d have gotten you in right?”

I gave him a mournful look, “I’d pay just like everyone else, Noah. I don’t expect anything…but I honestly just got super busy.”

“I was really hoping you’d be there.” 

I felt my heart clench and my chest tighten at his words. “I’m sorry.” I peered over at him, barely being able to maintain eye contact as I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you either; it does go both ways,” Noah said, and we shared a wry smile. 

“You should come see us this weekend,” Nick said while concentrating. I furrowed my eyebrows as he scratched along my skin, the area beginning to redden. Despite having multiple tattoos, I never enjoyed the experience of getting them. 

“What time? And where?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek, and closing my eyes at the burning sensation. 

Noah scrolled on his phone before I felt my own buzz. Looking at it, I saw a message from Noah. It was a ticket with VIP access. 

“I don’t need VIP,” I looked at him in appreciation. 

Noah smiled down at his phone, “Well last time I checked, VIP stands for ‘very important persons’, and arguably our childhood bestie is in that category.” 

“Well, thank you.” I smiled gratefully, butterflies still knocking on every organ in my body.

“So,” Noah began, shifting positions so he was leaning his elbows on his knees, peering over to stare at my leg, “You and Sean broke it off?”

I followed his gaze, staring at the faded puzzle piece beneath the purple markings of Nick's outline. 

Sean was my first serious boyfriend. We were friends in high school, and admittedly always had some sort of connection. We started dating, and were together for four years; before I found somebody else sleeping with him in our bedroom. 

I looked longingly at the puzzle piece, my eyes snapping away once Nick began lining on top of it, covering away the layers of regret, “He cheated on me.” 

Turning to face Noah, his face immediately shifted from sympathetic to anger, “What a complete fucking tool.” He spat, folding his arms in the chair. Noah’s reaction surprised me, but I nodded in agreement. 

“Yep.” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders, “Note to self, don’t get a matching tattoo. You probably won't be with that person forever.” I said, pessimistically. 

Noah was quiet for a moment, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip as he contemplated his question, “Did you catch him?”  

I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows in annoyance, “In our bedroom too.” 

Noah scoffed, audibly groaning while he tilted his head back in hostility, “Pathetic piece of shit. I never liked him being with you.” 

My heart raced as Noah glared at the puzzle piece that began to disappear on my thigh, “At least now you’ll get to have a better piece of art on your body.”

“Exactly,” I smiled proudly, watching Nick’s hands run along the skin, “and it’s the one and only Nicholas Ruffilo’s handy work too.” 

Nick glanced up smiling. It was quiet for a moment, and I chewed on my lip, anxious to ask.

“What about you? Any ladies?” I said to Noah playfully, winking. Deep down though, I was hoping the answer was no one.

Noah gave me a small smile, “No one at the moment, last relationship ended poorly.” 

“That makes two of us.” I chuckled sorrowfully 

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Noah pushed me against the bedroom door, lips attached to my own hastily. His kiss was desperate and hungry as he cupped my face in his hands, and I felt weak in the knees as our hips were pushed together, the heat radiating off of him. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited to do this.” He breathed between kisses.

My hands found their way to Noah’s hair, rubbing my fingers along his scalp affectionately. I smiled through his lips, eagerly holding myself against him. 

“It was so worth the wait.” He whispered, pulling away and putting his forehead against my own. He stared into me, right through me with so much intent. I had always wanted to kiss him, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized where he was, succumbing to me. 

I closed my eyes, smiling, “you have no idea how badly I wanted that too.”

He smiled widely, glancing down at my lips again, this time pulling me into his arms while kissing me with force and passion.

“Tell me how badly,” he whispered, running his fingers delicately across my waist and I melted into his touch.

“Honestly? Probably ever since we met.” I admitted, my face turning red with embarrassment at the confession, “and it’s never gone away.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Noah pulled away from the kiss, running his hand up my arm to cup the side of my face again, thumb tracing a gentle circle along my cheekbone. He looked desperate for an answer as if this was all he’s ever wanted to hear. I felt Noah’s heartbeat racing rapidly through his chest, which heaved heavily against my own. 

“I never thought you felt that way, and I didn’t want to push anything because I didn’t want to lose you,” I confessed, looking away nervously. 

Noah hummed quietly, pulling my chin towards him in another delicate kiss. His lips were warm and gentle. “You’ll never lose me. No matter how long it’s been.”

Noah began running his hands up and down my sides before sliding them between my skin and the hem of my jeans. Immediately I felt flush, and I let my own hands ride up his black t-shirt. His skin was soft and warm, and my fingertips began to tingle with nerves.

Noah hooked his fingers in the loop of my jeans, tugging me towards him and trailing us toward his desk. My thighs hit the back of it, and Noah lifted me gently, placing me on top, and positioning himself between my legs. His warm hands caressed my lower back, creating goosebumps as his nails trailed up and down the skin lightly. I shivered from the sensation.

Noah’s tongue swiped my bottom lip, and I allowed him to kiss me deeper, our tongues melding together. I began tugging at his shirt, and Noah let out a low chuckle.

“You sure you want to do this?” Noah pulled away from my lips to stare into my eyes, looking at me sternly, and analyzing every movement I made.

“yes,” I whined, almost embarrassingly needy, “Do you?”

Noah hung his head, shaking it slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck someone so badly in my entire life,” He looked up with hooded eyes.

“Then take me however you want.” I sighed, pulling at his shirt again, and Noah looked at me darkly with lust, his October eyes fading into an onyx abyss.

Noah pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed chest; I stared at the ink longingly, remembering when he first got his desolate tattoo. I traced my fingers over the letters delicately, smiling to myself. This moment between us felt like I was reminiscing over all my lost time with Noah.

“Do you still feel this way?” I asked softly, as Noah pulled off my own shirt, leaving me exposed in my pink laced bra. Noah placed his hand on top of mine as I traced the last letter.

He shook his head, “No, but it will always be a reminder of when I felt empty.”

“I'm glad you don’t feel that way anymore,” I whispered, and Noah’s hands explored my body once again, before pulling on the hem of my jeans.

Bringing me into a kiss again, he fiddled with the zipper before tugging my pants down my legs, leaving me exposed in my underwear.

“I’ve probably envisioned you naked weekly.” Noah admitted as he kissed down my neck, hands roaming over every inch of skin in desperation, “I need to taste you, princess.”

I blushed at his words, and Noah’s kisses trailed further from my neck, teeth grazing across my collarbone to between my breasts. His breath quickened as he kissed lower and lower, licking down my stomach until he stopped right at the edge of my underwear.

“This okay?” He breathed heavily, his own face flushing. I nodded, and Noah pulled at the lace, revealing me.

“Fuck,” He groaned, looking up through his eyelashes briefly before placing his mouth against me, letting his slim fingers trace patterns across the sensitive skin.

Noah’s tongue circled me before he inserted two fingers, and I let out a moan. He pumped slowly, moaning quietly against me, “Oh, you wouldn’t want Nick to hear.”

I squeezed my thighs together around his head in pleasure, and Noah’s free hand gripped my thigh, pulling me even closer.

I began to pant faster, trying to be quiet, “Oh my god Noah,” I let my head fall back, resting against the wall as Noah ate me out feverishly, like this was his last meal. His fingers curled upwards, the repetitive motion sending my abdomen into a knot of fulfillment, my legs shaking against his body.

“Fuck, I need to stop or I'm going to come in my pants- and I don’t want to yet.” Noah’s eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. Taking his fingers that were inside me into his mouth, he licked them clean before pulling himself up. I watched in disbelief- that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him do; even compared to Noah’s stage performances of The Death of Peace of Mind. He grabbed my ass, hoisting me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Noah was extremely hard, his clothed member digging into me as he carried me towards his bed; he kissed me again and I tasted myself off of his tongue.

Noah laid me on the bed, kissing along my neck again as my hands roamed his hair before he unclasped my bra and pulled my panties down, exposing me fully to him.

“You are gorgeous, shit,” Noah mumbled, absorbing me with his eyes as he pulled his shorts down hastily, and I couldn’t help but let my own eyes wander across Noah’s fully exposed body, swallowing hard.

A new warmth washed over me as I got even wetter between my legs, the familiar feeling of excitement preparing my body for Noah’s; but this was different. This time it was Noah, here in front of me. Noah ran his fingers along my folds, moaning and internally begging to replace his hands with his own heat longing to be touched.

Noah spit into his hand and I watched attentively, following his every move as my body shivered. Noah rubbed along himself, before positioning his body above mine.

We shared eye-contact again and I nodded in approval before Noah pushed inside, his body immediately shuddering as I moved my hips against his, and he sighed deeply, squeezing his eyes closed briefly.

“God fucking dammit, you feel so good, princess.”

My legs parted as Noah’s body sunk into mine, his thrusts getting deeper and heavier. I let out another moan, “Oh- my-god-Noah.”

Words were coiled at my throat as Noah pounded into me, hands on either side of my head, his necklace dangling in my face.

“Look at me.” Noah’s voice was rough, and I stared into his eyes. He watched me with every thrust, and I mumbled a string of messy swears, my body clenching around his.

Noah’s arms wrapped around my body, pulling me up so I was positioned on top of him, but so that there was enough leverage for him to continue to thrust into me from below. This new position allowed him to penetrate me deeper and groaned with every entrance of his body into mine.

Noah grabbed the back of my neck and the middle of my back, holding me still as he fully gave himself into me before pulling me into another kiss. His mouth attached to mine hastily, bucking his hips aimlessly. Noah’s moans were almost louder than mine as he shamelessly allowed himself a pleasure.

“Mark me, Noah, show me I was always yours.” I whimpered, and Noah immediately attached to my neck, biting and sucking against the delicate skin that was pinned along my neck.

I heaved into his ear, resting my forehead on his shoulder as he held my hips, allowing myself to completely undo myself, moaning as my body reached my climax.

“Fuck me, Noah,” I panted, gripping his arms as I clenched around him, letting him thrust into me as I rode out my high.

Noah pulled my neck back to look at him again, sweat dripping across his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed in rapture, “please let me cum inside you Y/N.”

I nodded, kissing him eagerly, our saliva melding together as Noah moaned into the kiss. His body quivered as he released himself, exhaling in short breaths of satisfaction.

“Holy shit,” Noah mumbled into my neck, and I held onto him, a smile plastering itself onto my face. We sat there for a moment, panting against each other as our chests heaved, sweat attaching us together. I ran my fingers along Noah’s hair again, absorbing his handsome features, and taking him in.

He looked up at me, his eyes back to their October glow, but now replaced with a gleam of devotion. He tucked the loose strands of my H/C hair behind my ear.

I placed my lips lightly on his, “I missed you so fucking much Noah.”

“I missed you so much princess,” Noah’s hand grabbed the back of my head gently, caressing me into his chest and holding on protectively. He pulled a blanket over us as we lay together out of breath, both relishing the high of our orgasms and the story we just created together.

“I guess I thought you got too busy to be my friend,” I whispered vulnerably as we lay underneath his covers, the story we created longing against my skin.

Noah’s head rested on top of my own, and I felt his body stiffen slightly, “life has been crazy, everything is so different now. We are no longer just screaming in my garage.” He rubbed my arm, nails trailing across my skin once again.

I nodded against him in understanding, “I know. I hope you know I watched every single concert online that I could. I followed so many fan pages just to keep updated on how you were doing.”

Noah pulled me away from him softly, he looked at me with awe, “Did you really?” 

“Of course.” I looked up, smiling at him in adoration. 

“I was always hoping you’d show up again at my doorstep sometime. You have no idea how happy I am right now.” He laughed, pulling me into him again. I smiled against his chest, absorbing this moment, worried it might be my last.

“I love you, Noah Sebastian Davis.”

“I love you most Y/N Y/L/N.”

Part Two if you want more smut ;)

[yuri-is-online]

Was Lilia more “Oh my thorn fairy I have another child?! I can barely cast a spell as of now and future me wants a fucking KID?! AT THAT AGE?!”

Or more of a

I HAVE ANOTHER SON?! AND IT’S FROM ME!?

If his Yutu tells him he comes from the future? Because it could imply he does regain his remaining years and magic. Idk how you wrote that problem that even rn it’s giving talk about Lilia surviving book 7 or not.

If it’s the second I already see him passing by Silver’s room really excited and saying “YOU HAVE A BROTHER!” And zooming off, leaving a very confused Silver and thinking he refers to either Malleus or Sebek.

technically anon asked first but this ask is much longer so it was awkward to screenshot for an answer. Here is the link the anon used for reference, I obligated as an elderly hater to let you know it's from SAO. Anon's idea is extremely good and we're going to roll with it for this Yutu's Uniqe Magic because you know he was always going to be a little shit.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FOR: Book 7, Lilia's back story, and Silver's unique magic. Please engage with this in mind. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

I have a bit of difficult time writing for Lilia given how much older he is than the rest of the cast, so I tend to write his Yuu as being a bit older themselves. Maybe they had an extremely difficult childhood and connected with Lilia over their shared sense of robbed innocence. Whatever it was I think this Yuu has a bit of a fascination with creatures of the night and a lot of their weirdo reputation within their community comes from kids telling each other that Yuu and Yutu are vampires. That makes me tempted to say Lilia! Yutu's real name is Alucard or Sebastian, something vaguely vampire themed.

None of those rumors are helped by Yutu finding himself very lethargic when out in the sunlight or his preference for colder temperatures. From his perspective he can't exactly help being who he is, people should really just get over themselves and let him do his thing. It's not his fault that bats really seem to like him for some reason, the neighbors are exaggerating Mr. Animal Control officer he swears.

Because he prefers to spend his awake hours in the dark, he is waaaaay too comfortable doing things and going places he shouldn't. He's real familiar with all the abandoned buildings and sketchy alleys of your town and has tagged quite a few of them. I like the idea of Lilia! Yutu being really interested in street art and Graffiti. I could see him putting up a bunch of bats everywhere and getting in a bunch of trouble for it. He has very fond memories of Yuu letting him paint murals on portions of their house in an effort to meet him halfway. He might like a good prank but unlike his father Yutu is always pulling his punches with Yuu.

Lilia didn't exactly have a supportive parent while he was growing up, something I feel like Yuu remembers and is very conscious of in their parenting of Yutu. Unfortunately for Lilia they also remember that he had another child and was a lot older than them, something Yutu raises several eyebrows at and causes him to ignore the things Yuu tries to tell him about his "great sense of humor" and "desire for different peoples to learn and grow with one another-" yeah that's great can you back up a bit to where you said he had another family? Yutu goes through life thinking he was the product of an affair Yuu had with a much older, married man who was just trying to feel young again. The amnesia stuff... sometimes he wonders if his dad tried to have Yuu killed. He never says it out loud because something tells him he's wrong, but gut feelings aren't as trustworthy as statistics...

So you can imagine his surprise when he tumbles out of a coffin and is told that his dad was a faerie general bound in service to a family of dragons, veteran of an ancient war, and technically the adoptive father of the Prince of the children of the night and the Prince of the rival human kingdom that killed his best friends. One of which is alive and overwhelmed with joy to meet him. Silver wanted Yutu almost as badly as Lilia and Yuu did so to see him alive and awkwardly squirming in his arms? Silver hasn't cried this much since they lost Lilia and Malleus.

Having a proper older brother, not just the concept, is an extreme change for Yutu. He's used to it just being him and Yuu, and he was sort of expecting Silver to hate him just for existing. Nothing could be further from the truth, Silver wants his younger brother to have the same freedoms he did while attending school but he also respectfully requests that Yutu spend at least some of his free time with him. He tried desperately to find his dreams over the years and was never able to make firm contact, but he doesn't want to pressure Yutu into caring about him. Yutu is didn't realize how badly he wanted other family members until he got to have Silver, he's even willing to take up sword fighting so they can get closer.

Sebek is also overwhelmed with tears upon seeing Lilia! Yutu. He is a bit harsh on him for "not living up to Master Lilia's legacy" because he doesn't know anything about fighting. He does applaud him for his willingness to learn. Yutu thinks Sebek is hilarious and messes with him just as much as Lilia does. Something Sebek is completely willing to let him do because it makes him feel like Lilia never left.

All of the Yutus get to see some of the photographs Yuu left behind, but Lilia! Yutu is especially interested in them. He makes a small photo album of all the ones he can find of his dad, especially ones where he's with Yuu and Silver. He's partially driven by guilt for thinking his father was a terrible person, but really he just wants to feel closer to him. He's half fae, and sure he has Sebek to talk about that with but what he really needs is a connection with his father. Yutu doesn't really care about being a faerie. He just cares about his dad's acceptance, everything else can go hang.

I don't have a name for his unique magic, but going off of anon's idea it allows him to overwhelm his target's mind, forcing them to think about their greatest fears to the point they are convinced they are really going through it. Someone hates spider? All over their face and in their clothes. Crippling fear of failure? Suddenly that emotion is all they can focus on. And if it's a mindless creature like a blot phantom or a monster they become overwhelmed with the sensation that they are unable to breathe and about to die. Yutu can't control the illusion the person experiences so usually he tries not to use it on his classmates.

That changes when he goes into the past. Some rando want to shit talk Yuu? Nightmare. Macho NRC guy wants to rumble? Nightmare. Some random guy jumped out from behind him and yells "BOO!" Nightma-

If Yutu had been just a hair slower he would have been in extreme pain, the dangerous glint in those familiar ruby eyes scream that. The short fae smiles almost cruelly, advancing on him clearly upset even though Yutu has dropped the spell.

"Well now, that's no way to great a senior." Lilia's voice is strangely soothing, it occurs to Yutu that this is probably the first time his father has ever been angry at him and he can't help himself. He laughs,

"Yeah sorry about that." He makes sure to try and be cute about it, which helps to diffuse the tension some what. "You really scared me so it was all I could think to do."

Lilia is very impressed by Yutu's reflexes and control over his unique magic. He is even further impressed by how eager Yutu is to train with Silver. The kid has some real promise and fits into Silver and Sebek's dynamic better than Lilia could have dreamed of. He really hopes the two will benefit from having a relatively normal human friend their age to train with. Maybe he and Yuu will stick around and give him some piece of mind about the kids being in good hands when he's gone.

Yutu hanging around Diasomnia gives him an excuse to chat with Yuu more, not that he exactly needed it. Lilia sort of hates the way he's drawn to you, it feels unfair. Unfair to you to give you hope there could be something more and toy with your affections; unfair to him for life to finally allow him to realize what romantic love is like just in time to have to let it go. There is a bittersweet tone to all of your interactions that his housemates are a bit too socially awkward to pick up on but Cater does.

Yutu is surprised how much he likes Cater, he associates him with a terrifying monster he's had to fight multiple times, not a fun guy who is really determined to help his parents get together. And what's even better he's really chill when Yutu asks for stories about Lilia, he has a lot of them and a completely different perspective than his older brother allowing Yutu to glean some more insight to what his parents might have been thinking in the future.

He finds himself spending a lot of time with the pop music club, not as an official member though he's not great at carrying a tune. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are glad to have another person to chill with, sometimes they'll play music and Yutu will draw something based off whatever noise they made. Cater wants to talk him into doing album art for them... you know if they ever get around to making a recording.

I think Yutu will only tell Lilia who he is if he has no choice. He wants to mess with the timeline as little as possible, but should a monster from his timeline appear in this one, say like an overblotted Yuu another asker was so nice as to bring up, well it's not like he says who he is. He just addresses the monster as his parent and has a very loud meltdown not wanting to fight them again. Something Malleus is more than willing to assist him with.

"Think nothing of it." Malleus's power is truly terrifying, Yutu is torn between sorrow that he wasn't on their side and relief he didn't overblot a second time. "You are Lilia's son yes? That makes you my subject, and a most precious one at that." Not that Yutu has avoided interacting with Malleus exactly, he's just found talking to him exceptionally awkward because well. He's not Yuu, he's very aware of how important Malleus is supposed to be. But the way he's looking at him now makes him think that maybe he was missing out on interacting with another older brother.

Something that's confirmed when he turns to see how big his father's eyes have gotten, the man is shaking as he stares at his face and flicks between him, Malleus, and Silver like he's staring at the most precious pieces of art in the whole universe.

As you brought up Lilia's survival isn't guaranteed, I did not solve that problem at all. I sort of just... wrote that Lilia would age more or less like a normal human and not really be able to use magic on par with what a fae would consider normal but would still be impressive to a human... so while Lilia might be a bit reluctant to show his face in Briar Valley he would still have enough years to have and raise Yutu. He might have actually died around the same time as Yuu if they had lived a normal life.

He is overwhelmingly excited at the thought of having another baby. Lilia might not know what to do with them but he does really like kids. What's harder for him to accept is his relationship with Yuu. Raising a child is something he's done before, being someone's long term partner is not. He is unused to feeling desirable, and unfamiliar with acting on his own desires. Sure Lilia might seem very free spirited, but much of his life has been dictated by a sense of duty. The thought of having something precious to him that chose him specifically of their own free will is... disarming. He's overwhelmed with how helpless you make him feel and how little he despises it.

Yutu's need to be accepted by his father is met and exceeded almost immediately. Lilia wants to cook a big family dinner for Yuu and all of his boys, something that Malleus politely rejects asking if he can instead show his Culinary Crucible skills off to Yutu (it's really so he can make babiest brother promise to never eat anything Paw Paw makes EVER) and it's all so normal Yutu almost forgets that he's listening to a practical god smugly tell him he knows all about edible weeds as his father flies around him cracking jokes and pinching his cheeks. His older brother is asleep on the couch waiting for the food to be done and his precious parent is helping his Uncle Sebek set the table, listening to him sniffle about how beautiful Master Lilia's family is.

Lilia might be practically retired, but his mind is still sharp. The information Yutu is able to pass on to him lands in good hands. When he tucks Yutu into bed that night, long after the boy has gone to sleep so as not to embarrass him he makes sure to take a good long look at the little miracle. He is beyond grateful Yutu exists, not even the Thorn Fairy could have given him a finer blessing (he'll have to make sure to tease you about that later, that's got to be a good pick up line) He will make sure that this risk his son has taken pays off, Lilia Vanrouge wasn't feared for no reason. Something it seems some foolish mortals need reminding of.

[nile-the-empathy-cleric]

I'm a huge fan of your work, your writing is so beautiful, and the way you add your own personal love of art is just; it's genuinely amazing. I was wondering if you have any paintings that you think each of your favorite characters would represent or maybe even what u see when u look at them. ❤️🖼🎨🖌

Oh boy do I love this ask! Firstly, than you 🥺 you're too kind 💕

Second I have so many paintings that spring to mind for various characters! Immediately off the bat my brain went right to Lestat and how his presence and aesthetic (especially in 1920s New Orleans) gave gigantic J.C. Leyendecker vibes.

(left) The Sleuth J.C. Leyendecker, ca. 1906 and (right) Arrow Shirt Collar Ad, 1916. By J.C. Leyendecker For Arrow Shirt Collars, 1916

The way Leyendecker plays with shadow, light, and color to project an air of seduction and power is just *chef's kiss.* He is a master at depicting an idealized masculinity that still has a level of vulnerability. I don't think it's just the styling/ fashion of the men in Leyendecker's illustrations that remind me of Lestat, but the features as well. J.C. gives them this attitude of nonchalance but there's something deeply concerned with appearances underneath. Is that not Lestat?

For Claudia there are a couple. First (not a painting but a sculpture) is Degas' The Little Dancer Aged Fourteen. I look at this piece and think of the history of ballet and the connotations of ballet at the time Degas was working. In France at the time ballerinas were highly taken advantage of and exploited. The exploitation was sexual in nature and simultaneously adultified and infantilized. They were highly fetishized. It's very sad and tragic and it reminds me of Claudia. The Little Dancer has an almost defiant energy to her, like there is a sense of pride and restraint, something dignified despite her lesser social standing.

I also see something of Claudia in this piece: Girl in Pink Dress, ca. 1927 by Laura Wheeler Waring. I also think this girl embodies the qualities of both Bailey and Delainey's Claudias–– there's simultaneously an innocence and maturity. I see something similar in Isabella, (aka Young Woman with a Fan), 1906 by Simon Maris and I just think it's neat to see art of Black people done by a white person from the early 1900s that isn't fetishizing or racist (don't look at J.C. Leyendecker's art of Black people, yikes!)

For Louis, my first thought was Derek Fordjour's STRWMN, 2020. It gives NOLA Louis to me in terms of style, but also the colorful and fun energy has the vibes of his little journey of gay self-discovery in Paris. I also see Louis in Lois Mailou Jones' Negro Youth, 1929. It mirrors depressed Louis for me. There is something very fragile in his expression, but you can tell he's trying to be strong, much like Louis.

As for Armand? Well, the number one is Botticelli's Saint Sebastian (it just has an uncanny resemblance to Assad) and the metaphor is too apt to not point out. The other that immediately make me think of Armand is The Abduction of Ganymede by Correggio. It's less the painting and more the myth it's based on, but out of all the Ganymede paintings, Correggio's is my favorite.

And Daniel is just like... any Nan Goldin photo, but I'll pick Heart-shaped bruise, 1980. I don't think I need to give my thoughts here 😂

Thank you again for such a fun ask! I appreciate every message I get from anons and mutuals alike 🥰

[*Edit: Being transparent––I went back and corrected a mistake I made in the original because I don't want an inaccurate/ racist post going around, even after a correction in the reblogs if people aren't seeing the original. I accidentally implied that Laura Wheeler Waring was white. I meant the statement about Simon Maris, who was a Dutch portrait artist. Laura Wheeler Waring was a prominent Black artist. Lesson to self: do not write deeply thoughtful posts at 1 am while you have a fever.]

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐

(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️

🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader; Ciel Phantomhive; Elizabeth Midford

Summary: After spending the day with your cousin and his fiance, the night air makes for pleasant company, as does the butler who reveals a dark secret...

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian

A/N: not beta read. We die like men. Again.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2: 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗; 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

The day passed without much incident. A wall seemed to have broken down, between you and the butler after your morning rendezvous. Throughout the day, he looked after both your needs and his young master’s as well. You had spent some time with your cousin today as he hadn’t had too much on his schedule like he usually did. Breakfast, luncheon and supper were all had with the boy who kept your mind occupied with discussions on business and society. And Sebastian served you while also making sure to linger longer than necessary by your side, whether it was him pouring wine into your glass, or brushing against you while bringing you your plate. Surreptitious movements that luckily went unnoticed by your young cousin.

Lady Elizabeth joined the two of you for supper. Though she was from your side of the family you had never met the child personally. The girl had a lot of energy. She loved dressing up as was evident from her clothing. You had heard of her mother being a fearsome lady, one who could fight a tiger barehanded and win, but the daughter carried no such resemblance. 

“ –And then, Mother let me make two more dresses to match with the jewellery she bought me!” You had missed the initial conversation but gleaned from the few lines that she had an affinity for fashion and clothing. It was not unlike a lady of her stature. 

“Oh when I was your age, I loved getting new dresses made!” You smiled at her. “After I fell sick the first time, however, I started to dislike it a bit.” It was true. You used to have dresses made by the dozen. The seamstress saw your home more than her own shop! But your repeated illnesses have changed this. Every measurement taken anew showed how your body had changed. Warped into the form of the disease. And standing for the tape was exhausting. You found comfort in the clothing you already owned and preferred to have less made. 

Elizabeth frowned. “Perhaps, Lady Phantomhive, you can come with me and we can have the tailor take your measurements too for a gown. I’m sure your mama and papa wouldn’t mind!” You blushed and shook your head. Perhaps your parents wouldn’t and even if you did have the energy to stand tomorrow, you would have to cover up the innumerable marks Sebastian left on you from your morning's tryst. 

You laughed a nervous chuckle and replied, “Perhaps for the next season, I seem to have plenty of splendid dresses in my armada for the moment…” 

Ciel retired to bed, soon after Elizabeth left to go back home. You sometimes forgot he was only 12 – his mannerisms far beyond his age.  You walked out to the balcony. The garden was painted silver in the moonlight. Despite being quite clumsy, Finnian did a good job of maintaining it you thought to yourself. 

“After all I did today to make sure you didn’t catch a cold, my lady, here you are inviting it yourself.” Sebastian’s voice came from behind, startling you. You turned your head to look as he emerged from the shadows draping a warm cloak over your shoulders. “Would you like to go for a walk my lady?” he asked. Once again, you thought you saw a flash of red in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as you took another glance. You nodded at him. 

Sebastian took your hand and in one swift cat-like movement you found yourself in his arms flying through the air. You clung to his shoulders the night air whipping through your hair and biting at your cheeks. “Sebastian! Where are we going!” But the whistling of the wind drowned out your words. 

When he finally landed, you looked around you, the garden was far, This was a denser shrubbery, almost like the maze Finnian so religiously took care to grow. “Should you be so far from the manor?” You asked him breathless, even though all you had done was be carried from one place to another. “Ciel might call for you or something.”

He shook his head. “You needn’t worry about that, my lady. The young master doesn’t wake till morning – when I wake him and I’m sure the manor will be fine without me for a bit.” 

He smiles, reassuring you, and takes your hand, clasping it in his gloved ones. You begin to walk alongside him, his stride is shorter, making sure you can keep up, even in your bedroom slippers. Soon you come across a gazebo. The butler then invites you to sit and takes a seat beside you. “I do hope this isn’t too forward of me, my lady but I wish to continue where we had left off this morning.” You blush and avoid his gaze. You know that society would never approve of the relationship the two of you had. If anyone ever found out, it would bring shame to you and your family. You would be looked down upon for the longest time. “My lady?” Sebastian inquires after not hearing anything from you.

“Sebastian…” you start. But you don’t know how to form what you are feeling. “I- I-” you stutter. Then sigh. He puts his hand on your cheek and makes you look at him.

“My lady, if you want this to stop—” he begins but is cut off when you place your hand over his mouth.

“Believe me that is not what I want.” You say to him. “You are different Sebastian. I don’t get what you want. Your feelings are not of love. They aren’t for my money. And I feel you lust after me but that doesn’t come out too clearly either. I suppose, in a way, I am confused.” You get up, take a few steps forward and turn to look at him. “I have had men who have come to me for all the things I mentioned before. I have had those who might have actually loved me, those who merely wanted me as another trophy to claim, and even those who have come only to try and gain my hand in marriage but in reality who want to marry my father’s wealth. But you Sebastian, something about you is so different. I suppose it may be because you are the first man I have felt attracted to.” Your following chuckle is hesitant. “I am—afraid of you.”

Sebastian smirks. “Your way of seeing things is so intriguing my lady.” He says. “I can assure you my lady that I am not here for your money. I have no need for the material things that humans treasure so much.” He spits. “As for lusting after you; you have deduced almost correctly, but what I feel for you is more...” You don’t know when he got up, but turning to look you find Sebastian flush against your back. His eyes are red, the same red you tried to convince yourself you hadn't seen, but it was unmistakable. Your eyes widen and you try to take a step back, away from his imposing figure, only to find yourself trapped between him and the gazebo. 

 “You see my lady,” he continues, nose nuzzling against your neck, “Demons and humans have very little in common, but there is one thing we do share; the feeling of lust is very strong in us both. Humans can feel love. All demons can feel though; is lust. But you, you make me feel something different from just lust. Something more—burning. Is it love? I don’t know... I’ve never known that feeling.”

You don’t know what to say anymore. You should be frozen in fear, What did Sebastian mean, saying he was a demon? A murderer? Or a biblical fantasy? His lips were now on your skin, inhaling your scent, and you felt a pool of warmth in your lower belly. “D- demon? What does that even mean?” you falter.

 “What I mean, my lady, is that the only reason I am here is because of a contract I have made with your dear young cousin. You should thank him for our very meeting.” He tells you.

“You mean you’re a demon. Like – from legends and stories?”

“I can assure you. I am no story” he says, planting a searing kiss on your neck. That was all it took to set you on fire. It made sense. The inhuman capabilities. The absolute perfection of his being. He was a demon! “You aren’t running from me my lady?” he asked as you melted under his touch.

“Surely, you jest Sebastian!” You say. Your voice quavers but you stand your ground.

“About what my lady?”

“About this demon nonsense!”

“I never lie to my lady.” He says. “You said yourself, there is something you find different about me.” He kisses you. “I am simply a demon, and a butler.”

***

Since you were tired from being out for so long, Sebastian swiftly carried you back to the mansion and took you to your room where there was a cup of hot chamomile tea waiting for you. He really took everything into account. There is no doubt about it in your mind now. Sebastian had to be a demon. His speed is inhuman. His eyes are reptilian, gleaming in the darkness. And then those teeth that scraped against your neck. Whatever he is, he definitely isn’t human.

As he helps you get ready for bed you realised that you didn’t mind. Sebastian may not have been a human, and he may have been a butler, but the way he made you feel surpassed all of that. “Sebastian…” You turn to him as he undresses you. You take off his coat. “I don’t care what you are.” You take off his vest. His eyes widen, and he stares at you. He can smell your arousal. Here you are half naked before him, taking off his clothes. Telling him you don’t care what he is. You want him. You feel things for him. Your scent drives him wild and he doesn’t even register you undoing his necktie and then his shirt buttons. When you try to take his shirt off and he doesn’t move to allow you to slip it off him, you suddenly think that perhaps he doesn’t want this. “I’m so sorry!” You say. “I thought you wanted this.” Sebastian finally wakes from his stupor and looks at you.

“I do want this. I just can’t believe that someone as beautiful and lovely as you truly wants something as vile and cruel as me.” He says and softly kisses your head. Then without warning he pushes you onto the bed and says, “But, my lady, who gave you the permission to take my clothes off?” He growls. The change in demeanour startles you. 

“Sebas—” you start, but he does not let you finish. In a moment, his lips are upon yours. He swiftly and rips off your underclothes, while still kissing your mouth. His hands glide along the curves of your body and he holds you closer while plunging his tongue into your mouth. 

He has never tasted anything like you before. He cannot fathom how in all the years he has lived he has never tasted anything like you. “I guess it’s something Phantomhives have in common eh? A taste like no other. I could feast on you all day.” He mutters half to himself.

“What–?” you ask breathlessly.

“You taste, sinful.”

He winks at you and pulls his glove off his left hand with his sharp teeth. His nails are black and on the back of his hand is a pentagram inside two circles. The outer, made of pointy diamond shapes. “My contract seal— nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, my lady.” he says, seeing you looking at it. 

Sebastian trails his hand down your stomach. His black tipped fingers enter your folds which are already moist with your arousal. Lowering his head, he nibbles on your neck. You breathe in deeply and wish he would take off his clothes to allow you to see him but he had made it pretty clear who was in charge of the taking off of the clothing. His hand playing around with you down under barely ghosted over your skin. You involuntarily bucked your hips trying to get him to touch you. The move immediately made the demon smirk and say, “Look at you, so eager to be fucked.”

You feel your cheeks heat much like your core. His words are so unexpectedly crude. “Please,” you moan, “please touch me…”

To be continued…

A/N: hahah don't hurt me. Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Comments get you kissies.

Masterlist

[sdv-confessions]

I feel like a lot of the fandom's criticism of Demetrius is unjustified and can sometimes even come off as vaguely racist (though most of the time I think it's just from Sebastian fans) like, the assumption that he neglects Sebastian is always odd to me because the book of tips for step dads on the shelf in his room implies that he cares enough to read-up on how to be a better stepfather. And knowing he's really analytical, it makes sense that he'd be better at researching emotional stuff like relationships than putting it into practice. And Robin claims that Sebastian never opens up to her, so it would make sense if Sebastian didn't put too much effort into getting closer to Demetrius either. I just feel like it's more of a two sided communication problem than purely Demetrius' fault.

In terms of the 2 heart event with Maru, he does seem pretty overprotective and it is uncalled for. Like, he's a flawed person, as are MOST Stardew characters and that's what makes them feel more real, but fanfiction that paints him as a complete villain or implies violent abuse from him or something is absolutely ridiculous to me. Sorry if this seems pointless or something but I feel like he's often really mischaracterized...

.

[strange-little-spy]

Chapter One - – Washington D.C. – Present Day

Hello and let's kick start the beginning of a new Marvel fic specifically worked out with @the-superoriginal (hi 🥰)

Summary:

Addie Jeannes is an avid Marvel fangirl, not quite stereotypical, but has the average Marvel man crush, patent pending. Her top pick is the famous Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America, practically a perfect gentleman and seriously good looking. But then her first day of college comes along and she takes the bus for the first time to the university. Its when she gets off the bus, she has stepped back in time, all the way back to 1939, a few years before the second world war begins. She’s very out of place in her modern clothes and slang, but thanks to a young man named Bucky, she soon learns her way around the large town of Brooklyn. But who would have guessed she would also meet the love of her life in Steve Rogers, Bucky’s best friend.

Only during the worst event she has ever experienced does she understand who she was really chasing.

warnings: Fluff! Implied smut in future chapters but very subtly hinted at. Period-typical subjects (i.e racism)

Chapter warnings: no warnings

Word count: 896 words, longer chapters coming!

It was the first chilly day of Autumn, the leaves were still green but the occasional tree was already beginning to shed it’s coat of fluffy leaves to the sidewalks below.

Addie remembered when she first arrived in D.C. It was Spring and she was one of the fortunate as she witnessed the cherry trees blooming all around the city. That was a year ago when she first moved to the nation’s capital for the job at the small, but prosperous arts center: Capital Performances. She loved to act and work backstage when she wasn’t assigned a role, but most importantly, she just couldn’t wait until next Winter when they would put on Rogers: The Musical.

True, she was appalled at the idea of her Steve being made into a musical, but she actually liked the songs, in addition she couldn’t very well say no. It was Marvel, for heaven’s sake, she loved Marvel.

And most importantly, she loved Steve Rogers.

It was puppy love, but she kept it at a healthy distance unlike the other fangirls she ran across on social media. Their thirst posts were enough to make her throw her phone off her beanbag and groan into a pillow.

She didn’t care. In her mind, Steve was in his perfect world.

“Now if only I could actually meet the man.” She shook her head as she picked up one of the fallen leaves off the side walk and studied the veins between the paper-like membranes of the object. She had been to multiple Comic-Cons, but she wasn’t willing to wait 5 hours to meet Chris Evans, but she meet Sebastian Stan once on the street. And honestly, he was the sweetest person she had ever met. He even asked her for a selfie.

She sighed and threw the leaf over her shoulder before sitting down on the grass to paint the Washington Monument with the sunlight illuminating one side of it, while the shadow covered the other side.

She liked those lighting parallels, she tried to paint them as close to how they appeared as quickly as she could before the sun went down.

It was almost therapeutic, but watching the Captain America saga was her therapy. Screw the medication.

Charlotte’s notification sound jerked Addie out of her mid-afternoon nap as she lost her balance and fell on her bottom on the floor. She giggled and picked up her phone which had fallen along with her.

“Any news yet?”Her friend was referring to the acceptance letter from Liberty University that they were both waiting on, but it was Addie who was actually going.

“I haven’t checked my mail yet. It doesn’t come until around 4.” She replied, feeling the butterflies in her stomach rising again. She had wanted to go to New York University, but their tuition was WAAAY too high to even justify the amount of schooling she was to gain.

Nope. Liberty U it was.

“I hate ur mailman.” Charlotte responded quickly.

“I hate the mail system.”

“Right.”

“How was your day?”

“Slow and lowkey.”

“Lo-ki.”

“Yeah XD”

“U need to make Jonah’s contact name that.”

“What?? Jonah’s not a Loki, he’s definitely a Tony Stark.”

“We say it like Zodiac signs XD”

“WELL ISN’T IT?”

“Touche. Did u know you woke me up from a rather pleasant nap?”

“I would say I’m sorry if you were dreaming about you know who.”

“Unfortunately not this time.”

“Well, shoot.”

“IKR?”

“I still can’t believe you’d take Steve over Thor, I mean the hunk of a man Thor??”

Addie shook her head and smiled. Charlotte was head over heals for the god of thunder.

“I prefer my Captain.” Addie replied, adamant.

“Your loss.”

“You’re mean.”

“I am truthful.”

“Whatev.” Addie snickered, knowing full well their insults were playful. “I should go before we have a gif war, plus I just heard the mail slot.”

“Fingers crossed for u!! <3”

Addie took a breath before standing up and jogging to the mail slot in her apartment’s door, there was a small bundle of mail but the only one she wanted was the one with the red and blue logo.

“WAHOO!” She jumped up and down when she found it. She ran to the kitchen and started a FaceTime with her mom who was in Oregon on a much-needed vacation.

“Hey, honey!” Her mom picked quickly and Addie couldn’t help the grin that broke out on her face.

“Guess what came today??”

“Did you get your letter??” Her mom’s face lit up.

“Who’s at the top?” She made a face and held the letter up to the camera.

“Oh, baby!! Well, open it, open it!!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Addie tore open the envelope and shook it to unfold the papers. “Dear Addison Jeannes, we are honored to have you as a student at Liberty University in our Forensic Sciences field of study this spring!!” She read out loud, jumping as she placed the phone against the bowl of Chex mix she always had out. “I made it, Momma!!”

“That’s my girl!!” Her mom cheered, breaking out in smiles. “I will rent you a car so you can get down there!”

“No thanks, Momma, I can take the bus. Its not that far at all. And it might be cheaper.”

“But what about your bike??”

“I’ll get it delivered.”

“Alright, its your call. But this is so exciting!!”

“Liberty, here I come!!”

thank you for reading 🥰✌️ Dividers by @strangergraphics

prompt by @the-superoriginal

written by yours truly, all relation to actual people are purely coincidental

tag list: @oh-to-be-a-murderer - @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent - @itzzkaylaaa - @crazyinlovewithmarvel - @natt-romanoff - @ohyeah-itssamwilson - @proud-owner-0f-americas-ass

if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters, please send me an ask and I will make sure to tag you!

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ken Klippenstein:

Donald Trump’s incoming counterterrorism czar wants you to join the government’s war on terrorism. That’s the message he conveyed yesterday in a little-noticed interview following the reportedly ISIS-inspired vehicle ramming attack in New Orleans. The remarks paint an alarming picture of the incoming administration’s plans to take the war on terrorism to “the streets of America” — a war in which “you are the first responder,” as the Trump nominee put it. “You are on the front line of the war against global jihadism,” Sebastian Gorka, Trump’s incoming senior director for counterterrorism, told Newsmax. His rhetoric reminds me of the post-9/11 paranoia of the Bush administration, during which the national security state crept into American civic life in all sorts of ways that remain with us today. In much the same fashion, Gorka stressed that preventing terrorism is a responsibility you — not in the plural sense but you personally — share with even the elite operators like the Navy SEALs(!) As he told Newsmax:

[“You need to understand — every single one of our Newsmax viewers. You are on the front line of the war against global jihadism. It's not just our tier one operators. It's not just the guys at Dam Neck, the SEALs, or the guys over the wire at Bragg. You. You, like the people on Bourbon Street, are on the front line. So be aware. Keep your head on a swivel…it's not about warzones 8,000 miles away in Central Asia. It's about here on the streets of America. You are the first responder.”]

Several troubling implications arise from Gorka’s counter-terror vision. Deputizing ordinary people as volunteers for the national security state induces them to view the world through that framework, which just doesn’t map onto civic life. Should a teacher really adopt the worldview of a Navy SEAL? Also, Gorka’s rhetoric implies that terror attacks happen because the public wasn’t vigilant enough, rather than that our lavishly funded national security state failed to anticipate them. (There’s already plenty of signs that New Orleans authorities failed to properly deploy barriers that would have prevented the attack.) Gorka’s extreme views may well make him the most dangerous figure in the incoming Trump administration, as I’ve previously reported. While the major media have tended to obsess about Tulsi Gabbard and her supposed ties to the Russians (despite there being no hard evidence), Gorka has basically completely avoided scrutiny. Particularly alarming are his views on “radical Islamic terrorism,” a phrase he is fond of. When asked if Trump believes Islam is a religion, for instance, Gorka has repeatedly declined to answer. “Anybody who downplays the role of religious ideology,” Gorka said in 2017, “they are deleting reality to fit their own world.”

Rabid Islamophobe and soon-to-be former Newsmax host Sebastian Gorka went on Newsmax’s Finnerty Wednesday told Americans that “you are on the front line of the war against global jihadism.”

[eyothings]

This is funny to me, i don't really ship Sebastian with my MC, even if i was kinda sad about not being able to romance anyone in the game but at the same time, it's SUPER romance coded? Especially towards Sebastian? • MC would kill some ashwinder scouts and they would say: "When Sebastian will hear about that!" (implying murder equal making him happy, lmao) • The way he looks at MC, and trust them - even when he teaches you avada kedavra (later in the crypt) he says to you "i wouldn't trust anyone else with that spell". • If you chose to denounce him (i wanted to try out on a separate save), Ominis says to you: "I know you both were very close, it wasn't only a story of finding a cure for Anne" => Ominis knew it was more than that.

• But most importantly, i'm now listening to HL soundtracks, and there is this painting playing a very specific music which is called: "A portrait of love" (and another song with same vibe and instrument is called: "Aire on the side of Love") - yeah That exact painting not far from the first night "rendez vous" with Sebastian yk? I dunno if it's a coincidence - but surely no romance in the game so far.

[zabala0z]

Welcome back to “I’m listening to season 2 of The Magnus Archives and yeah it’s official, season 2 is currently my favorite season”

Surprisingly some tamer episodes. By tame, I mean I didn’t shriek and pause every 5 minutes. Though some characters popped up again which I was excited about like yay reoccurring characters!

MAG 48:

Not much to note. But Gerard Keay appearance! Or maybe appearance since the man didn’t give a name but come on, he had long black hair, that’s Gerard. I was pretty happy he helped out Andrea. Like it’s clear Gerard knows some stuff but he doesn’t use his knowledge to harm people, he uses it to help them and for that, I am so thankful there’s one character in confident in. Okay not confident. I don’t wanna say anything or God forbid, someone is going to die or get “replaced”

He also said she was marked, whatever that means. I’ll prob figure it out later

MAG 49: The Butchers Window

All Pryor wanted to do was to get that bag 🫡 Also Jared Hopworth appearance! Low key I forgot about him until the name Jared was mentioned and then I was like “oh that’s that weirdo from the bone turners tale”. I had to read over the transcripts from that to refresh my memory and man, he was a shithead from the beginning. Also I like the signs showing of him testing his power like on that deflated rat (which might’ve been his pet?? It was implied the rat looked like a pet so I’m assuming it was Jared) and maybe his mom. Also totally screwed up that he (presumably on my end) killed Sebastian. Like they were childhood friends man 💀

But I find it hilarious that he used his power to steal bones from other people and make himself as tall and buff as possible.

MAG 50: Foundations

Not much to note. I usually zone out more during the old timey statements but I got the general idea. Robert Smirke appeared again, I’m wondering what’s his deal. They say his buildings have a higher percentage of supernatural occurrences and he was rumored to have suspicious religious values so my theory is that he did some deal with something and now his buildings are just fucking like that. Also he said like “Balance, Equilibrium. The hardest thing for an architect to achieve. Symmetry is easy, but does not, in and of itself, result in balance. To stir, yada, yada” so this guy is already a little weird.

Also Tim congratulating Jon is the funniest thing ever wtf. “Don’t worry, I’m cool. 😏😏😏 good luck boss” like god. I mean supportive friend???? I guess??? 😭

MAG 51: High Pressure

God I hate the ocean. On another note, Simon Fairchild is back. When Jon said the case number, I had to go through the transcripts to figure out when he appeared before (thankful I understand the very confusing system) and he was in Freefall!

Anyways, looking back, this guy is definitely evil. This like 85 year old has evil schemes to make people go through an open area of sky or ocean like bro. In Freefall, the instructors name was Harriett Fairchild so I’m assuming she was in on it or like related to him. For gods sake, Simon said to Robert, “enjoy sky blue” like this man is a bastard. He knew what was happening. And he did say something to Antonia before he went down which I’m gonna assume “enjoy ocean blue” or shit like that. I hate him. And it’s definitely not because I hate being alone and open spaces.

Also another thing to note; fake Sasha. She’s been staring at that table. Jon described it as a fractal and she described it as a web. Both things that have been brought up a couple times in this podcast. I had to search up fractals to figure out what it was. That one guy I think in “Burned Out”, his dad was super obsessed with fractals. I don’t know how it ties into the plot but they do in some way. Also Gerard Keay made that eye painting that was described to get more intricate and minuscule which I think is a fractal?? Again, I have no idea.

Jon said “Sasha” has been going to a wax museum during her extra long lunch breaks. I got no theories why because what. Although it’s interesting because wax museums are replicants of real people most of the time and whatever that replaced Sasha is a replicant of a real person. So. Yeah no idea.

Anyways, I think that’s everything! They were some pretty calm episodes compared to the last couple ones which I’m grateful for

[exhausted-archivist]

DA2: Things I've Noticed Prt 1/?

I've been replaying Dragon Age 2 just to explore and also play through some routes I haven't done before. Got my first rogue Hawke and I'm planning on romancing Anders because I haven't romanced him yet.

But this is more of just cataloguing things I've noticed throughout my playthrough:

Bethany starts off with a staff that deals cold damage.

Worthy, the rune crafting dwarf has what appears to be a hunk of red lyrium on his crafting table in Act 1. Before you even go down into the Deep Roads. This is also found in the Black Emporium.

When you talk to the Expedition Hirelings next to Bartrand one of them mentions that the Expedition is planned to be 2 weeks long.

When entering the Chantry, Sister Lorena and Sister Samea will speak of Fereldan orphans in Darktown.

Sister Lorena: Those children! The orphaned Fereldans ran off again after we fed them. Sister Samea: I wish they'd let us help them. It'd be better than scraping by on the streets in Darktown.

This paired with dialogue from Sebastian paints the picture that not only does the Chantry go out of its way to "help" in some way, but if they do help you they fully expect you to become part of and work for the Chantry.

Sebastian: (In Darktown) Why do these people not come to the Chantry? The brothers and sisters would find a place for them.

Sebastian: (In Darktown) So many souls waiting to be brought to the light.

When you go to the Hanged Man, there is a "Talkative Man" who speaks of a conspiracy theory that there are more mages due to lyrium being put in the water. (Which is likely a joking reference but Mm. Opinions.)

In the Black Emporium, you find the Andraste in Nude Repose - Invisible codex. Where it speaks of how enchanters were tasked with extending what we know to be the veil, to hide Andraste's nude form. To tuck her away in a sense, into the Fade. Which implies some heavy veil muckery that might be on par with some old magic we’re vaguely aware of. Given it has lasted ages.

The eluvian used for the mirror of transformation is a reused asset of Merrill's eluvian but it has chunks of red lyrium coming out. This was redesigned in Inquisition to be a simplified and universal eluvian.

Aveline and Varric both acknowledge that most people in Lowtown or are crimnals/thieves can't read. Adding onto the fact established in Asunder that most of the common folk rely on pictures.

To add onto that, based on set building there are books in the kitchen which implies that at least a level of literacy might be had with at the very least the lead cooks. To follow recipes, inventory, ect.

There are peticoats, frocks, and other historical clothing referred to by Gamlen and Bethany when speaking of clothing.

Leandra doesn't have a single child who isn't self-loathing unless the player doesn't choose those options. Bethany seems to deal with more of the emotional dumping/guilt than Carver does. Which is... Yeah, I got thoughts.

When you first meet Anders, you have the first accusation that Merideth and her templars are abusing their power (If you haven't gone to the gallows yet, which at the time I hadn't.) The example is that they are turning over a dozen mages tranquil in 9:31, presumably this is happening in late summer/early autumn given Awakening considerations. So it's been almost a year, August at the earliest; and they've already exceeded more than one tranquil a month.

Anders has surgical tables with a slit to help with drainage and a gutter that empties into a vessel. Which is neat in consideration to what we know of their medical status.

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Ten

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

The lab was busy with a few people as we stood in the middle of it, sunlight casting through the large windows. It painted the room in an orange light, brushing across the skin of my arms. Bucky was sitting on the med table in front of me, a small smile playing at his lips. I forced myself to mimic the smile but failed. 

I didn’t agree to any of this. I wasn’t happy with his choice but in the end it wasn’t my decision. It was his. 

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky reassured me. 

“I know,” I nodded. “I’m worried about what I’m going to do.” 

We had been together every day the last few years so even the mere thought of being alone scared me. 

“It won’t be for long. Shuri is going to help me,” Bucky said. 

I looked over towards the woman he was talking about, who was chatting with one of the doctors. My eyes then traveled towards the two men standing on the other side of the room, chatting amongst themselves. 

Steve and King T’challa. 

After the fight with Tony, T’challa had found us on the jet saying that he could help us. Bucky had decided that with his brain still controlled by those words, he needed to go under, back in cryo sleep, in order to get better. Shuri, T’challa’s sister, would be able to remove those words from his mind, helping it heal from his past. 

Bucky couldn’t trust his own mind anymore, he wanted this for him; for us. 

“What are you going to do?” Bucky questioned, grabbing my hand with his only one. 

It was still a weird sight to see him without the metal arm I had grown accustomed to seeing. 

“I’m not sure,” I shrugged, “I can’t really go anywhere. Our faces are plastered on every news channel.” 

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Bucky stated. 

Immediately my head shook with disagreement. I lifted his jaw up towards me, placing a soft, plump kiss on his lips. One that he had no issues returning. 

“I’d wait forever for you,” I mumbled against his lips. 

The corners of his mouth reached his eyes, the skin wrinkling. Our hearts pounded in sync with one another, our love being felt with each pulse. 

“You know what I love?” I asked. 

Bucky shrugged. 

“When you smile at me,” I kissed his lips, savoring the taste. 

Shuri had said that he wouldn’t be under for long but time was unknown between us. Out could be a few days or a couple months. Hell, it could be a few years but I refused to believe that it would be that long without him. 

His lips parted, hesitating before saying something softly. “I have to tell you something.” 

I remained silent, allowing him all the time to say what he needed. His shoulders went rigid, his pulse increasing, and he bit his lip hoping that he would be able to say what was on his mind. I could feel the nerves eating away at his insides so I cupped his face, allowing our gazes to interlock. 

“Just tell me,” I semi begged. “I won’t think anything less of you.” 

“In my backpack are my journals. They have every single one of my thoughts for the last few years. The leatherback one is for you to read. It’s part of your birthday present.” Bucky spoke, interlocking our fingers. 

“You can read the others but that one is specifically for you,” Bucky finished. 

I blew out a shaky breath to hold back the tears knowing that he had a journal of our memories together. I smiled warmly at him before giving him a passionate kiss, nibbling his bottom lip. 

We looked into each other's eyes once again, his shown with adoration and pure love. 

“I love you,” he breathed across my lips. 

My heart soared into my throat before flipping into my stomach, waking up the butterflies that laid dormant for the last few days. My fingers snaked their way through his hair, locking onto the ends and kissing him deeply. 

“I love you too,” I mumbled to him. 

Our foreheads rested against each other, savoring this moment. 

“Buck?” 

Pulling away with a sigh, I looked towards Steve and gave a small smile. 

“Are you sure about this, Buck?” He questioned. 

Bucky nodded. “I can’t trust my own mind so until I know how to control it, I think the best thing would be for me to go back under.” 

I had to look away from him, my heart shattering. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being frozen asleep again. How would we know for sure that Shuri could fix him? That he would return as the old Bucky, from the 1940’s; pre Soldat. 

“Can you promise to take care of her?” Bucky asked. 

Steve and my eyes locked, the light behind them slowly flicking at the thought of me, and he nodded to Bucky. 

The doctor mentioned that it was time for Bucky to go under so with another deep kiss, we said our goodbyes. I sucked in my bottom lip to stop it from trembling as I watched with broken eyes Bucky getting frozen in front of me. 

The scene was heartbreaking so I had to force myself to look out the windows, down towards the green fields of Wakanda. 

“Y/N?” 

Looking over my shoulder towards Steve, I forced a smile. “I’m fine.” 

He scoffed before shaking his head. “I’ve known you for a long time so I know when you’re lying.” 

“This is the first time in years that I’ll be without him. It’s stupid, to be so dependent on a man but we have this history. I don’t want to lose him again,” I admitted with a sob. 

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulder, allowing me to rest my head on him. A comforting kiss meshed with my hairline. 

“Do you want to come with me?” He asked. 

I pulled away, looking into his eyes, and shrugged. “Where? We don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t go back to my apartment in Brooklyn; we’re wanted, Steve.” 

He nodded while his gaze fell to the floor. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets. 

“So are you going to stay here?” 

“Yeah. Shuri said that I can stay in one of their tents in the field. It sounds nicer than I’m making it seem,” I added when I noticed Steve’s apprehension. 

“I can stay if you want, till you’re settled.” Steve offered. 

I agreed with a smile. “That would be nice, thank you.” 

It had been a few days since Bucky went to sleep and the tent I had started to call home started to come together. 

It was more of a shack really. There was plenty of space for two and Steve even built a make-shift kitchen and a bed for me. He promised he would make a couple of tables before he left but I mentioned that he didn’t have too; he’d already done so much. 

Shuri said that I could go see Bucky if I wanted but declined. Seeing him like that broke me so I refused to be there. I would be there when it was time to wake up. The thought of whenever I looked up to the castle of Wakanda, knowing Bucky was there getting the help he needed was enough. 

“I think you have a good spot right next to the pond for a garden,” Steve said. 

Walking out of my home, I smiled towards him. “I’ve never had a green thumb.” 

“Buck does,” he laughed. “Back in the day he would help his mom in the garden every day.” 

“Really?” I wondered with awe. 

“It was his dream. To build a farm, raise his family there, and grow old with whoever he married,” Steve said. 

I marked those words in my mind for safe keeping. 

The breeze was cool, Wakanda night fast approaching, and I wrapped the sweater closer to my body. 

“When are you leaving?” I asked. 

Steve sighed, both of our gazes staring at the small body of water in front of us. “A jet is picking me up in the morning. I’ve got a few jailbreaks to take care of.” 

There were a lot of repercussions of what happened in Germany and everyone who fought along with us were paying the price behind bars. 

“Where will you go?” I wondered. 

“I don’t know. Go into hiding, I guess.” He shrugged. 

“You’d look really good with a beard and if you grew out your hair,” I admitted with my lips curled up in a smile. 

His brows raised. “Really now?” 

A light giggle fell from my lips while I nodded. 

Silence then fell between us as we both stared back into the water. I glance towards the castle, a quick thought of if Bucky was doing okay. Steve must have seen the worried look on my face because his hand was on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. 

“He’s alright. He’s in the best hands.” 

“I know,” I nodded. 

“You’ll be fine on your own?” He questioned. 

“Yeah, I can use the time to garden or focus on my yoga,” I joked. 

Steve’s tongue rolled over his bottom lip. “I’ll miss you.” 

The butterflies had awoken for his admission and I tried to bury them deep, locking them away. 

“I’m only a quin jet ride away,” I smiled. 

Life on my own was questionable for how long but I knew that it would all be worth it when Bucky would wake. The war long behind us now and the thought of us finally being able to grow our lives together was enough to get me through this lonely time. 

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • III

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5.4k

General fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Three - One of Us is Broken Glass (EDITED 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered-yelled, furrowing my brows at him in distaste.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, kneeling in front of me again with an expression filled with fear and distress.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled a bit too loudly as the door below us rattled once more.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah's intense gaze locked onto mine as he begged, “Just this once Y/N.”

I hesitated for a moment but ultimately gave in to Noah's desperate request. His hands gripped the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me towards him. With complete desperation, Noah kissed me intensely.

+++++

NOAH

My earbuds blasted music as I strolled along the sidewalk, glancing at the houses Y/N and I had passed by earlier. A few of them still had lights on despite the late hour, so I kept walking until I reached a cul de sac lined with townhouses. Putting on a ski mask and pulling up the hood of my sweatshirt, I adjusted my backpack straps and began scoping out each house, searching for a potential target. My eyes eventually landed on one with a dimly lit living room and the sound of a cat meowing at the door. Normally, I would avoid houses with lights on, but something about this one drew me in. Was it the cat? I've always been a sucker for felines.

As I approached the front door, I scanned for any security cameras while listening to the cat's cries from inside. When I confirmed that no one was home, and it was just the cat waiting for its owner, I knew I hit the jackpot.

Sighing to myself, I accepted that this was the house I had chosen for tonight's target. Maybe I could take a few minutes to pet the cat before the guilt sets in. Unzipping my backpack, I retrieved my metal tools and got to work on picking the lock. With my phone in hand, I timed myself to see how quickly I could do it; it was the only way to make this mundane task somewhat enjoyable.

Using a tension wrench and pick, I twisted and turned, feeling for the springs and listening for the pins to drop into place. It took some trial and error, but after twenty-eight seconds, the lock clicked open and I stepped inside.

The cat greeted me immediately with loud purring and winding itself between my legs. Kneeling down, I scratched behind its ears as I flipped through its collar with my covered fingers. The cat was large, with an orange-gray coat and white markings that swirled around its

As I stroked the orange cat, I couldn't help but smile at the name - Juice. The cat purred loudly, enjoying the attention. I stood up, knowing I had to get to work quickly. Grabbing my flashlight from my bag, I made my way into the living room. As I went to turn off the lamp to avoid drawing attention, my eyes wandered over the walls adorned with various band posters against the light green paint. My gaze stopped on the sleep token poster above the couch, bringing memories of Y/N's smiling face flooding back into my mind.

Well, I believe Somewhere in the past Something was between You and I, my dear

Shaking the lyrics out of my head, I took it for a coincidence, before looking through various drawers. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

I made my way through the first floor of the house, scanning each room for a bathroom, and searching for valuable medications that I could sell for a profit. The guest bathroom offered no luck, so I decided to head upstairs.

The stairs creaked under my weight as I ascended to the second floor, and once I reached the landing, I spotted another bathroom and eagerly opened its medicine cabinet. My heart raced with excitement as I saw various prescription bottles inside: Diazepam, Adderall, Zolpidem, and even cough syrup containing Dextromethorphan. This was my lucky day, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.

Stuffing the bottles into my bag, I moved through the hallway towards the nearest bedroom. Juice followed me, meowing loudly at my every step. I tried to shush him, but he remained persistent in his demands for attention.

Pushing open the bedroom door, I was hit with a familiar scent of perfume. It took me a moment to place where I had smelled it before.

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to figure out where to start searching; until my eyes landed on a collection of polaroids taped above the oak wooden bed. I walked closer, and my heart sank at the sight of a woman's smiling face in each photo.

It was her house - Y/N's house.

I couldn't believe it. Out of all the houses I could have broken into, it had to be hers. Whatever sick strings fate was trying to pull, it’s turned the one good thing that’s happened to me, into a twisted game.

Feeling guilty and scared of being caught, I quickly scanned her room for any valuables before turning to leave. But just as I was about to make my escape, I heard someone opening the front door. Panic surged through me as I fought to think of an escape plan, and my hand instinctively covered my mouth, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Juice?”

It was her. Fuck.

Looking around the room frantic, I debated where I was going to hide. Closet? Bathroom? Under the bed?

“Juju baby? Where are you?”

I heard Y/N's footsteps fade towards the kitchen and took this as my cue to make a move. Every step I took across the room was accompanied by a loud creaking sound, and I cursed myself for not being more stealthy. She must have heard me; there's no way I could make it to the bathroom now.

Juice watched me with curious eyes from the corner of the room, but it was too quiet downstairs, and I knew Y/N was listening. Suddenly, Juice's head snapped towards the door at the sound of Y/N's muffled footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart raced as he ran out of the room, leaving me alone and anxious. I quickly slid behind the closet door, peering between the cracks.

The hallway light flickered on and my breath caught in my throat. Y/N screamed before her laughter echoed through the house.

"Jesus Christ, cat! You scared the shit out of me!" she exclaimed.

Oh god, what am I going to do?

Juice came back into the room and landed on the bed, staring at the closet with wide eyes. As soon as Y/N entered, I knew I had to get out of there.

"What? Are you hungry? Your bowl is full," she said, shaking her head as she pulled off her sweater. This was my chance to escape.

I carefully slid out from behind the closet door while her back was turned. But just as I was about to pass by her, she threw her sweater into the hamper and turned around. In a moment of panic, I grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth with my hand to stop any screams.

She struggled against me but I held onto her tightly.

Why didn't I just run? Why did I think this was a good idea?

With a racing heart, I turned her around to face the mirror, hoping she would see that I meant no harm.

But tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered, looking back and forth between my masked face and the gun in my waistband.

Of course, she would be afraid.

I was a masked vigilante with a gun.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said softly, my voice trembling. I knew I had to run as soon as I let go of her. She would never know it was me, and everything would be okay because I could just delete her number and never see her again...right?

Y/N's body trembled in my arms as I held her tightly. Even though I squeezed her for comfort, I knew she was far from being soothed.

"I'm going to leave, and you're going to let me. Got it?" I stated firmly, taking a deep breath before closing my eyes and preparing myself to leave this house forever.

"Please don't make a scene," I added, releasing my grip on her body slightly. As I began to step away, Y/N turned around and kicked me with all the strength she had.

"Fuck!" I cried out, doubling over in pain and protecting myself with my hands. As I tried to recover, Y/N fled the room. I knew I had to follow her; there was no way I could escape without her knowing what happened.

"You fucking creep! You followed me!" Y/N yelled, her voice dripping with anger as she pointed a knife at me when I finally exited the room. ""You're a lowlife piece of shit! Get out of my house or I'll call the cops on your sorry ass…Noah."

I locked eyes with her, feeling a wave of shame wash over me as she spoke my name with complete disdain. How did she know it was me? My clothes were different and none of my tattoos were visible.

My body shook with pain and I hunched over, leaning on her door for support.

"Please, Y/N, don't call the cops," I begged desperately.

"Why shouldn't I call the cops?" she screamed back at me, tears streaming down her face. She reached for her phone and began to dial 9-1-1, causing my stomach to drop even further in fear. I couldn't get caught - I had too much at stake.

I pleaded once more, but Y/N pressed the button and I could hear the faint ringing of the operator on the other end. Panic set in and my hand instinctively reached for the gun tucked into my waistband. Y/N's face went pale as she noticed the weapon, her lips trembling in terror. I had never seen anyone so afraid before - not even the woman from our job weeks ago.

"Hang up," I managed to whisper through dry lips. "Y/N, hang up please."

But it was too late - Y/N had already spiralled into a panic attack, gasping for air. We sat there in silence until we heard loud knocks on the front door.

"This is LAPD!"

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, frantically thinking of a plan. Usually, if you call 9-1-1 and then don't answer their call back, they send someone to check on your location to make sure you're okay. But I didn't expect them to come this quickly.

Y/N looked between me and the door, wiping away smeared lipstick from her face. Do I hide? Do I surrender?

My gaze landed on her lips and the smeared lipstick. If only we had been making out... Wait a minute. If we were passionately kissing and she accidentally called 9-1-1, it would explain everything. I quickly removed my sweater and tank top to make it look like we had been getting intimate.

Please play along Y/N, please.

+++++

Y/N

I pulled away from Noah, trying to catch my breath as I noticed the lipstick smudged on his lips. His request was so outrageous that I couldn't help but scoff at him.

"Come answer the door with me and pretend we were just making out," he pleaded, his doe-like eyes pleading with mine. "I'll tell you everything about myself if you do this for me."

I hesitated for a moment, before nodding quickly and allowing Noah to take my hand and lead me down the stairs. He held onto my belt loop as we approached the door, opening it to reveal a uniformed man standing there.

"Hi officer?" Noah said in a confused tone, panting heavily as if we had just been in the middle of a passionate make-out session.

"Evening," the man replied, his eyes darting between us in concern.

Noah pulled me closer and wrapped his arm around me, while I played along by giving the officer a puzzled look and placing my hand on Noah's chest with false admiration.

"We received a call from this location and wanted to check in to make sure everything is alright," the officer explained, eyeing us both suspiciously. Noah must have sensed it, because he pulled me even closer and I rested my head against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. Despite everything that had happened between us, our bodies seemed to fit together perfectly, an undeniable chemistry between us.

The officer scanned my lips before turning to study Noah's face, analyzing our deception.

"Oh really? That's odd," Noah furrowed his brows and looked down at me. I chimed in, reaching into my pockets for my phone.

"I didn't call anyone," I said,"I must have butt-dialled while you were...pushing me against the wall," I whispered through gritted teeth, loud enough for the officer to hear.

Noah's lips curled into a sly smile and he even winked at the officer. "I was away on a trip for two weeks, you know how it is."

The officer coughed awkwardly and began to look away, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Alright well, stay safe you two. Have a good night."

"We will," Noah gave him a breathy laugh.

I apologized to the officer as I pulled Noah away from the door and closed it behind us. Noah let out a breath of relief, his tense muscles relaxing.

I took a few steps back, still wary of him.

"Okay, now get your shit and go," I demanded, glaring at him. "I never want to see you again." I wiped my lips, trying to forget the feeling of his hands on me just minutes ago, his mark staining my body.

"Please, let me explain," Noah pleaded, holding out his hands and taking a step closer to me. I could see the genuine concern in his eyes and it made my walls start to crumble. But I couldn't let myself trust him again so easily, so I took another step back.

"Fine," I conceded with a sigh. "You have five minutes. And put your shirt on, it's weird that you're standing here half-naked."

I led the way into the living room and plopped down on the couch, motioning for him to join me when he came back down the stairs.

Noah sat as far away from me as possible, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. We sat in silence, both feeling a sense of deja vu after our earlier encounter in the park; this time was different though.

"So," Noah began, looking at the carpet.

"So," I echoed, watching him cautiously, "you didn’t strike me as a professional criminal."

"That's what makes me good at it, I suppose." A small laugh escaped Noah's lips before he stifled it. I rolled my eyes at him.

"I know you don't believe me, but I didn't follow you," Noah said, covering his face with his hands. "The odds are astronomical, Y/N. I genuinely have no idea how I ended up at your house instead of any other one in the neighbourhood."

"Then why did you choose this house?" I asked, raising an accusative eyebrow.

Noah shrugged, "I don't know. There's no method to it. I saw your light on and heard your cat, and chose it. That's all."

"Sure," I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, "maybe one day you'll admit that you're actually a stalker."

"No," Noah shook his head, "are you even listening to me?"

He sat up straight and leaned over his knees, staring intensely at me. "I swear on anything- God, Satan, whoever you want- that I had no idea this was your house.

“Even over the dead bodies of my parents."

His eyes bore into mine as he spoke and I felt a lump form in my throat. The pain in his expression made my heart ache.

"You have dead parents too?" I asked quietly, the tension in the room dissipated, filling with a sense of knowing.

Noah licked his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. He snapped his gaze away from me and slumped back over his knees, staring at the floor.

"My mom died of cancer," he began, "and my dad couldn't handle it so he killed himself. I was only twelve years old, but luckily my best friends took me in. They're like brothers to me."

My mouth felt dry as I listened to him. It suddenly made sense why he didn't say sorry when I told him about my own parents' death in the park. He knew that apologies wouldn't change anything and sympathy would just feel like pity, especially in this situation.

"So why were you in my house in the first place?"

Noah avoided my gaze, clearly ashamed of his actions. "Stealing, larceny, thievery - whatever you want to call it. It's one of the easiest ways to make money on the streets besides dealing drugs."

"So you're a burglar," I said, nodding and forcing a smile. "You really know how to pick 'em, Y/N," I mumbled under my breath, finding some humour in the situation.

"I wouldn't be doing this if we didn't have to," Noah replied, sinking back into the couch with his tattooed neck on display. "We owe a lot of money to a dangerous man, and this is our only way to keep up with his demands."

"Who?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite my attempt not to stare at the intricate snake design on his neck.

Noah closed his eyes. "I can't tell you for your safety."

I let out a dry laugh. "My safety was gone as soon as I offered you to sit on my couch."

"Touché," Noah chuckled. "But that's one thing I won't disclose."

"How long have you been...doing this?" I watched him closely as he turned his head.

"Long enough," he answered cryptically.

"How long, Noah? If that's even your real name."

He raised an eyebrow. "It is. Noah Sebastian, if you want to be specific. My friend Jolly always referred to it as "the grand fuck up," and it all started when I was fourteen. Since then, we've been paying off our debt every month.”

"And what exactly is 'the grand fuck up'?" I asked, noticing the letters on Noah's knuckles for the first time as he ran his thumb over them.

"It was my first job, and Jolly said I needed to do it to become a man and join the pact," Noah explained, his eyes fixated on the letters. "I stole an expensive car without knowing it had something valuable in it. The car belonged to a notorious criminal who caught us, giving us two choices: death or working for him. We chose to work off our debt and be free once it's paid off."

"Who is included in 'we'?" I inquired.

"My three friends and me," Noah replied with guilt evident in his voice. "I screwed us all over, and it's been seven years of nothing changing."

Noah closed his eyes, trying to hold back tears and the guilt that consumed him. My heart softened, wanting to comfort him and take away his pain.

"What does your tattoo say?" I asked, shifting the topic.

Noah looked at his fingers again, blinking rapidly. "Bad omens."

"Bad omens?" I repeated.

He moved closer to me and held out his hands for me to see. Without thinking, I took his hands in mine and studied the words etched onto his skin.

"An omen is a sign of things to come," Noah explained, watching my fingers trace over the letters. "But everything that comes our way seems to be bad."

"That's no way to live," I shook my head, turning sideways on the couch to face him.

"I've always lived that way," Noah shrugged, giving a small smile.

My heart ached at his words, reminding me of my former self stuck in a cycle of hopelessness and despair. A year ago, I would have said the same thing if someone had talked to me about possibilities and starting fresh. But I had worked hard to leave that behind and create a new life for myself. It was possible, but Noah was still trapped in his never-ending cycle, unable to see any glimmer of hope or change.

“I don’t even feel real anymore unless I’m in pain,” He confided, the agony evident in his voice catching me off guard. “It's not like I enjoy this cycle of suffering, but it's become my norm. I don't know how to function without it.”

Noah scoffed and looked away, trying to distract from his words. “Sometimes I wish I could just give up. Maybe then I'll see my dad again.”

My chest clenched at his words and I sat up on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “What keeps you going?” I prodded, intrigued by this mysterious man.

“My brothers. I have to fix things for them and make up for what I've done.”

“And after that? What then?” I pressed, completely invested in his enigmatic words.

Noah fell silent, his gaze fixed on the ground, lost in his thoughts. I wanted to know what was going through his mind, but we sat in silence once again, the only sound coming from the soft ticking of the living room clock. Juice had emerged from hiding and cautiously made his way into the living room. He let out a small meow and jumped onto the couch next to Noah. After sniffing him, he rubbed his head against Noah's sleeve.

“I don't know,” he finally whispered in a despondent tone, raising his hand to gently pet Juice's fur. The hair on my arms stood up as I watched Juice melt into Noah's touch - immediately accepting him and showing him love.

“You look like you could use a hug,” I surprised myself with the offer, standing up and opening my arms to invite Noah into my personal space.

He looked at me with surprise, asking "Huh?"

"Come here," I motioned for him to stand up, and after a moment of hesitation, he did.

Noah’s lanky figure approached me, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling his body towards mine in a protective embrace. I stood on my tiptoes to place my head in the crook of his neck, squeezing his body against my chest. Noah’s breath hitched in his throat as he held himself stiffly before easing his body into our entwined limbs. His arms held me close, his head resting against my own. As his chest shook through his complacency, I breathed deeply, sighing into our hug. Noah joined me in a deep exhale, listening to our breaths as we held onto each other, exchanging memories through our hold.

I’m sorry you lost your parents. I’m sorry you’re stuck. I’m listening.

“You don’t have to carry it all yourself. Humans aren’t made to be solitary creatures.” Boldly, I held my hand against Noah’s head, capturing him and all of his wounds. As I ran my fingers through his hair, Noah’s shoulders began to shake.

Can one of us be saved?

I can't forgive you, but I can't look away I have to tell myself it's better, better this way It's killing me

Soft sobs left his lips, his body vibrating through his tears.

Don't wait for the light Just fall asleep, embrace the night

The man crumbling before me was not a terrible person. He was merely a lost soul, fastened to routine and never-ending affliction.

Perhaps, I can be another step to helping him find himself. He reminded me so much of my past; I couldn’t leave him.

Even if I got hurt in the process.

+++++

NOAH

Y/N's arms were a haven, comforting me with her gentle embrace. Her fingers ran through my hair, unearthing deep-seated memories as she held onto me.

It was hard to believe that just an hour ago, everything had been a chaotic mess. Yet here I was, crying in this woman's arms. I didn't deserve such kindness, especially after invading her privacy and trust like I did.

I hadn't opened up to anyone in a long time. My only family were Ruffilo, Folio, and Jolly; they were the only ones who saw my pain. But Y/N's touch had broken down all of my walls, causing me to completely shatter. It was baffling how someone I had only met less than 24 hours ago could have such power over me. Yet here I was, vulnerable and exposed in her embrace.

How could she be so kind and selfless? She listened and understood. Her parents were gone too. She knew the feelings of abandonment.

Keep telling myself that I was the victim You were the one that pulled away I've got a cold heart, this is the sad part I don't think I can change

But the difference was that I was corrupt. I was not the good guy; my presence was tainting her.

Can one of us be saved? I feel like I'm better, better in a grave Better in a grave Better in a grave

“What’s the next step from acquaintances?” she tried to lighten the mood, giving me a small laugh.

I pulled away, my body already infected with the remembrance of her touch against my limbs. I wiped my eyes, face reddening at the embarrassment. I can’t believe I just cried on some girl’s shoulder. She was no longer just some girl.

“I mean, I don’t know if we should even be considered friends. I broke into your house.” I scoffed, wiping my nose with my hoodie sleeve as I sniffed.

“What about acquaintance-squared?” Y/N said, “I think now that I know you’re not just Noah, we’ve upgraded.”

I laughed, “Level two friendly strangers?”

Y/N joined me, the sound that left her body angelic. Part of me wanted to listen to her melody forever.

I knew then that I was fucked. Her hooks snagged me this morning, but now they were embedded, scars bound to be permanent. There was no way I could just leave her as a forgotten memory as I had thought earlier.

She knew too much.

“Sit down. I’m going to make you something to eat.” Y/N said, smiling kindly. My phone began buzzing in my pocket; I knew it had to be one of the boys.

I immediately shook my head in protest, “No Y/N, I should go.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t deserve your hospitality.” I pulled my phone out and checked the caller ID. It was Ruffilo. 32 missed texts.

Jolly: You alright?

Jolly: Almost done?

Jolly: It’s been almost two hours since I’ve heard anything.

Jolly: You should’ve been done within the first hour.

Jolly: Your location says you’re still there; where are you?

Jolly: Noah answer your fucking phone.

My anxiety must have been visible on my face when I saw the messages because Y/N noticed and asked, "Where do you live? Can I at least give you a ride home?"

I shook my head, "It's fine, I can walk."

But when Y/N checked the time and saw that it was three in the morning, she insisted, "Noah, it's not safe for you to walk alone at this hour."

I almost scoffed at her concern, but instead placed a hand on her shoulder and reassured her, "Y/N, I'll be okay."

She made a frustrated face and pouted her lips, which for some reason sent my heart racing.

"Noah," she marched towards the front door and grabbed her keys while slipping on cow-shaped slippers. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Let's go pretty boy."

"I'll walk," I said firmly, putting my phone back in my pocket.

Y/N furrowed her brows again and glared at me, causing butterflies to stir in my stomach. What is happening to me?

"You look cute when you're angry."

Y/N opened the door and pointed outside. "You think I'm cute when I'm angry? Then I'll be fucking gorgeous if you're not in my car in two seconds," she seethed.

I raised my hands in surrender and chuckled, "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

We squeezed into her small silver Chevy Spark and I joked about its size. "Could you have gotten a smaller car?"

She turned up the heat before fiddling with the music, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I must say I didn't expect to have an over 6-foot-tall thief in my passenger seat."

I rolled my eyes, knowing she had a valid point. The guilt gnawed at me once again. Y/N pressed play and the song blared through the small speakers. She turned to me and asked for the address.

"If you know where the Marlborough Motel is, that's where we're headed."

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she looked at me. "Wait, you actually live near there?" Her expression crumpled in sympathy when I nodded. But I refused to accept her pity. We lived in that rundown motel, but it was still better than nothing.

She drove out of the driveway and towards our destination while one of us listened to the song blasting through the car speakers, its lyrics piercing my ears.

You played the cards, you know I wanted to see Behind the curtain, always pulling the strings in my head

But now I think it's time to cut the ends I won't make the same mistake again

Once she dropped me off, I would leave her behind forever. I had to, for my sanity, and hers.

“I mean, housekeeping must be a blessing?” Y/N said gently, giving me a quaint smile.

“Yes, I enjoy the smell of cheap laundry detergent and a stranger filtering through my stuff.”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I gazed out the car window, taking in the rows of illuminated houses and streetlights as they passed by. Exhaustion weighed down my body, but I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. Jolly was going to have a fit when I got home - especially now that I had dragged someone else into this mess and failed a job. Just another checkmark on the list of my screw-ups. And to top it off, I had nothing to show for all the trouble I went through.

But then my mind snapped back to reality as I remembered my backpack - the one with the gun inside. The one I had carelessly left behind at Y/N's house. Panic set in as I realized she would find it, along with all her prescription medications neatly stored inside. My heart raced at the thought of her finding those bottles.

My throat felt tight at the realization, but I swallowed the nerves, reminding myself that I’d never see her again after today. I’ll forget about her, and this. I won’t need to see her disappointment.

You got what you deserved And that was me You saw me at my worst You saw the worst in me

We arrived at the motel and I sighed, realizing the light was still on. No doubt the boys were still up waiting for me. Y/N and I sat quietly for a moment before she turned to look at me.

“Well, level two friendly stranger.” Y/N coughed, breaking the awkward silence in the cramped vehicle. I looked at her and forced a smile. She smiled back, but my heart ached with the realization that this would be our goodbye. I studied every inch of her face, trying to imprint her features into my memory. I knew I couldn't face her again after this.

"Thanks for this wild adventure," she chuckled. "It was definitely a confusing situation, but I'm glad you were my first criminal experience."

Unsure of how to respond, I attempted to make a joke. "And thank you for being my favourite victim."

My own words stung as they reminded me of my past felonies, but I supposed she truly was my favourite victim. If it wasn't too messed up to say something like that.

"Will I see you for your usual coffee?" She asked, hope seeping through her eyes. How could she want to see me again?

"Yeah," I replied with a forced laugh, lying through each breath. "See you then."

I stepped out of the car and turned to wave before opening the door to the motel room. My heart ached as Y/N drove away.

Goodbye.

Tell me that I'm wrong Tell me that I'm wrong

Chapter four

Tags:@crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @Anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[theszarrpalace]

Acts Of Service - Masquerade

Summary: The dungeons underneath the Szarr palace had been bad but could this really be worse than being locked up in the dark?

Pairing: Cazador Szarr x afab!spawn!Reader x Sebastian

Word Count: -2.2k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, It’s Non-Con Central In Here, Intoxication, Drugging, Memory Loss, Explicit Mentions Of An Orgy, Emotional Coercion, Implied Unprotected P In V, Implied Unprotected Anal, Implied Oral (F Receiving And Giving), Fingering, Hurt/A Cheap Excuse Of Comfort, Descriptions Of Physical Discomfort Due To Aforementioned Abuse, Everybody Around Reader Is Kinda Really Disgusting

A/N: No, seriously, heed the content warnings. This one is just vile.

Tagging: @vampiric-hunger

A shallow, still halfway asleep sigh slipped past your lips as your consciousness lazily settled back into your body. Out of habit, you stretched your limbs and arched your back but unlike feeling the unforgiving, cold, and hard stone floor underneath you, you sensed your skin being caressed by a heavy velvet blanket. It boggled your dizzy mind, causing your eyebrows to furrow into a crinkly arch, expectations not suiting the reality of finding yourself curled against a thick, feathery pillow. You had no recollection of getting even remotely close to an actual bed and before better judgment set in, you genuinely thought to still be fast asleep, your brain allowing you to escape from your place of misery for a few hours again.

No, something very vital was horrifically off. From the way you were barely able to open your eyes even if you really wanted to the looming soreness emitting from your lower abdomen, a sudden tinge of panic settling in your chest, forcing you to gasp for air. Eventually, you had to force your eyelids to open up. They felt terribly heavy and only revealed a set of eyes that were hardly able to recognize anything. With your vision only slowly coming back into focus, you blinked repeatedly to get rid of the milky sheen glazing over your retina.

“What…in the hells?” The voice whispering from between your lips sounded dry and raspy, words pressed from a sand-paper throat as you worked your upper body to rise from the mattress.

At first, the overworked and abused synapses in your brain refused to connect, however, as soon as the first spark flew, an entire wildfire followed accompanied by a silent cry that got stuck right behind your tongue causing a painful moment of muscle spasming. Random splinters of fogged memories clouded your thinking as they fought each other, each one of them trying to work its way to the forefront. You tried swallowing the lump that was threatening to gag you but it was a rather fruitless attempt. If at all possible, the inside of your mouth turned endlessly dry whilst burning eyes looked down at yourself, staring in horror and disbelief for they found clusters of bruises and bite marks painting a morbid work of gruesome art on your brutalized skin.

A gush of hot tears pricked and stung in the corners of your eyes as you started to remember; remember being passed around like a platter of appetizers for everybody to get their little piece. Men, women, spawn, high lords, and their ladies from all over Baldurs Gate feasting on your body until satisfied. In an absentminded gesture, your fingers snapped to your mouth, tracing dry and chapped lips in a moment of pure and utter shock. They’d used all of you, every orifice tainted with countless gushes of cum and discharge, leaving a salty aftertaste that threatened to make you gag. You’d cum, too, not only on bare cock but also on gently swirling, caressing tongues and fingers fucking into you for hours on end.

You wanted to cry out, you really -really- wanted to but every little sob got stuck in your gradually tightening throat, every cry making you choke on your own emotions. Every single thought led back to you hungrily raising a chalice to your lips. Gods, you drank that all up to the last drop of red with no second thought, not thinking that your Master would be monster enough to set you up like that, make you pliable with alchemistic powders and potions.

“Still tasting me on there, pet?” You turned your head with such vigor that it hurt, weary eyes darting at a pale face adorned by a vile grin.

You ached to leap right at the bastard, to scratch his fucking eyes out there and then but as your mind was busy murdering him your body froze.

“Oh.”, The Vampire lord cocked his head to the side, a shallow laugh escaping his lips, “You got fucked up good.”

You blinked. Nothing within was able to comprehend what was happening, neither the resurfacing memories of being the very centerpiece of an escalating orgy at the Szarr palace nor seeing him like that, black hair ruffled with the thick, velvet duvet covering him up to his hips…so disgustingly domestic and human.

“Cat got your tongue now, hm?” Cazador hummed, oh so well entertained by your display of misery.

“You drugged me.” Three words that felt like tearing your vocal cords out of your larynx.

“And then I fucked you. Your mouth, your ass, and lastly your cunt. Got you all to myself before everyone else did.” He filled you in, his glaring red eyes exploring your violated body with pleasure.

There was nothing adequate to respond to that with, no cuss nor swear loaded enough to really make a point so you just swallowed heavily in defeat.

“Get yourself cleaned up. I don’t like to play with dirty things.” He threw his demand at you before raising his voice to call for one of the other spawns, Sebastian.

You couldn’t help but flinch at the screeching volume of your captor's voice. It cut right through you, shushing you off the bed with your hands trying to cover yourself in a meager attempt.

“Master?” The spawn with beautifully long, white hair stepped into the bedroom moments later, his eyes jumping from your naked form to his superior.

“Get it washed, Sebastian.” The vampire lord barked at his servant.

“Of course.”, His gaze now rested upon you, nonverbally signing you to follow him, “Come on now.”

“Move!” Cazador pushed, effectively making you jump in Sebstians direction.

You didn’t utter a single word as you followed him down the corridor, golden-framed paintings adorning the walls, towering over you just like everything in this palace seemed to do. Everything was in pain, muscles, bones, joints, all of it hurting with every step you strode to keep up with the white-haired spawn. The pain prevailed even after the two of you reached your destination and Sebastian insisted on you sitting down in an oval wooden bathtub. Unlike you, the water was warm almost hot even and it stung as it touched your abused cunt.

“I’m sorry.”, Sebastian broke the heavy silence, he sounded sincere, “He does that to those he’s into.”

“What the hell…” It swapped out of your mouth just like a little gush of water over the brim of the tub after you’d sat down.

“I know. It’s…disgusting. He is.” The spawn lowered himself to find comfort in resting against the tub.

“Would you like me to help you?” He fished for the sopping wet sponge drifting afloat between pleasantly fragrant piles of bubbles.

For a moment you pondered, not wanting someone else to touch you yet again but being nearly incapacitated to do it yourself as well.

“Can’t you just drown me? I think I’d like that.” It shot from the tip of your tongue in dry cynicism.

“No can do. We both know I’d be next.” He was right about that and you sunk deeper into the water, allowing it to wash around the curves of your breasts, nipples pebbling up upon contact.

With slightly trembling fingertips, you pushed the soaked sponge towards Sebastian: “Please.”

“I’ll be gentle. I promise.” He fought with himself to manage a faint smile, trying to give you some sort of comfort at last.

“Not exactly that much left to mess up anyway.” Your own crude comment pulled the corners of your lips down.

For an instant it looked like Sebastian wanted to say something to counteract, however, his brows twitched in a way that told you that he silently agreed with you. Exhaling a low sigh, the spawn palmed the sponge, squishing it a few times with slender fingers, before getting to carefully work your bruised skin. He hadn’t been lying, his strokes and dabs came indeed gentle. Sebastian carefully wiped you clean, washing the assault from your skin but not from your thoughts. The shrapnels of broken memories cut through your mind like a butcher’s knife through bone; loud and gruesome.

You drifted off, eyes locked on the reflections sparkling back at you from the water’s surface, breaking light dancing, and jumping whilst being moved by Sebastian’s broad hand. Although you didn’t know much about him, you liked him. Compared to some of the other spawns, he appeared to you as rather calm and reasonable. The thirst inside hadn’t rendered him into an animal…yet.

“Sebastian?!” You snapped back into the reality of things as his fingers had crept amidst your thighs, the pad of this thumb unabashedly administering a languid stroke and a teasing flick.

“Does it hurt?” His gaze caught yours, he stared, and pinned you to the tub with flaming eyes.

“Stop.” You wanted to scoot back but you couldn’t, the curve of your spine already pressed against the wet planks of wood.

“I asked if it hurts.” Sebastian not only repeated the question but also the ministrations of this thumb, pulling an involuntary moan from your throat.

“No, now stop it!” You protested weakly, your body reacting to the gentle caresses on his own accord.

“Why stop when it obviously feels good, hm? I think you deserve it, to be washed and properly satisfied. It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Sebastian cooed in a tone that reminded you an awful lot of someone who had very much hurt you

“Just…let me do that for you, hm?” He started drawing circles, spoiling your sore clit with tender touches, drawing a slick wetness from you alongside a disarming, pathetic rush of arousal.

There was no way of denying that it felt good, pleasurable, a brief silver lining in this cesspit of a palace.

“See? There you go. Enjoy it.” With a sly smile that now came naturally, he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, eliciting a whimper as you arched your pelvis into his touch.

You let your eyes flutter shut, body awash not only with the soap on your skin but also wretched, wrong pleasure festering on the inside.

“Gods, you’re such a docile little thing. No wonder Master is all over you.” The spawn mouthed against your damp skin, thumb working your swollen clit whilst middle- and ring finger pushed inside, filling you up gingerly.

Your sense of reason wanted to scream out loud, to protest and to bite his hand right off, yet, those little moments of actual pleasure were all you had left in here. You’d be ripped apart by your very seams whether you wanted to or not, you’d get fucked, orgasms being pulled from you with violence again and again so why shouldn’t you… why not allow yourself to kill that very last bit of pride in your chest and enjoy what you were given without pain?

“Pretty thing. So wet and needy for someone to get you off properly. Can I tell you a little secret?” He curved his fingers, massaging you from the inside as you clenched around him gradually harder.

“I didn’t partake last night. Wouldn’t want to do you like that. But I watched and by the Gods did it make me blow a big fucking load,” His twisted words snaked into your mind, conjuring the image of him watching with hungry eyes.

It made you moan out aloud, nothing held back this time.

“Oh, that’s doing it for you, hm? Getting off on the thought of being watched. Such a dirty little vampling.”, Sebastian’s fingers pushed against your insides, eventually triggering you to go off, “Going to watch you fall apart just now, dear.”

The orgasm tore right through you. Your cunt spasmed around his fingers in heavy pumps, pulling them in a little further whilst your clit throbbed in unison. For a few fleeting seconds, you felt bliss. Brain and body-numbing pleasure that ascended you out of your body for the blink of an eye only to brutally slam you back into your cracked and bruised shell.

“Good girl.”, Sebastian hummed contently as he pulled out of you, fingers brushing through your labia to dissolve your slick with the bathwater, “Can’t tell on myself like that. Master wouldn’t approve.”

He raised his hand to shake the excess water off with a quick jerk of his wrist.

“Now you’re all good again. Rinse that pretty head of hair for me, would you?”You answered with a shy nod, face still flushed with the rush of your climax.

“How’d you like it if I taste you next time, hm?” Sebastian’s boldness got to you immediately.

“Next time?” The spawn nodded at that, laughing softly.

“You'll find me when you need someone to be gentle with you, dear.”