#in better news I now have some awesome jewellery

[alex--blue]

.

[prettywhenibleed]

𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖄𝖔𝖚 (Kill For You)

Pt 1

Fem!Reader x Paul

TW: Mentions of abuse, Paul being a lil thief

Not proof read

I thought moving to Santa Carla could be a new start for my parents and I. That we could maybe try and start being a family. But I guess I was wrong. We have been here for almost two weeks now, and nothing has changed. They were still just as horrible and abusive as always. Last night they decided to give me some new bruises and cuts, the old ones haven’t even healed yet. I looked in the mirror at myself and sighed. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I pulled my shirt over my head and walked out of my bathroom. I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on before making my way to my window. I quietly opened it, climbing out and into the tree that was outside my window and used that to sneak out. I needed to get out for a while. Clear my head a bit. I decided to walk to the beach and then after that I might go to the boardwalk and check it out. I haven’t been out since we moved here, so I really wanted to take a look around.

After walking along the beach for a while, I started to feel a bit better. Like I could finally breathe again. Being trapped in that house with my parents was making me feel suffocated. I was constantly looking over my shoulder and was hyper aware of everything I did and said, terrified that I would do something to set them off. Although, I didn’t even have to actually do anything. If they just decided they wanted to hit me or scream at me, they didn’t need to have a reason. I finally made my way to the boardwalk. I could feel a little bit of excitement and anxiousness build up in me. Once I stepped foot on the boardwalk, I took a deep breath to calm myself a little bit before continuing. I never really liked being around so many people, but I guess I would just have to suck it up for now. I decided to just walk around and look at all the different stalls of stuff.

I stopped at one that had some jewellery and looked at a few different items that caught my eye. While looking at a necklace with a bat pendant on it, I suddenly felt a presence next to me. I looked up to see tall guy with messy blonde hair, teased to all hell. He had a kind of punk/rocker look. “You like bats sugar?” The guy asked me with a smirk. “Uhh. Yeah, I do.” I replied, looking back down at the necklace in my hand before putting it back in its place. “Let me buy it for you.” He offered. “Oh, no no. It’s fine. Thanks though.” I said. No one just offers to buy a stranger something like that and not expect something in return. And I wasn’t willing to find out what he’d want for buying it for me. “Aw come on babe. It looked like you really wanted it.” He insists. “Look, uhhh?” I started. “Names Paul.” He said smirking. “Paul. I don’t need you to buy it for me. Besides, you’re a complete stranger.” I told him and started to walk away. I guess he was t done because he immediately followed after me. When I noticed, I sighed to myself. “Hey, wait up babe.” He called after me, jogging up to catch up to me. “Look. I’m sorry. I was just trying to be nice.” He said as he walked beside me. He honestly sounded sincere from what I could tell, making me feel a little bad for being kinda rude to him. “What’s your name?” He asked. I turned to look at him at we walked. “Y/n. My names y/n.” I said, causing Paul to grin. “That’s a pretty name sugar.” I let out a huffed laugh. “ I guess.” I mumbled. I mean it’s a pretty generic name. Nothing fancy or anything.

“Hey uhh Paul…. I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to be rude it’s just. It’s my first night on the boardwalk and I’m not used to being around so many people. Guess I’m a little defensive or something.” I told him. Paul just smiled and slung his arm around my shoulder and waved me off. “Don’t worry about it sugar pie. I forgive you.” Paul said with a teasing grin. “Hey, since it’s your first time on the boardwalk, why don’t you hangout with me and my friends? We’ll make sure you have an awesome night.” He offered. I thought about it for a moment. Logically, I know I should t really go off with a bunch of strangers. Especially at night. But weirdly enough, I already felt pretty comfortable with Paul. And if his friends were anything like him, I think it might be fun…. And hey, maybe I’d actually come out of this with some friends for the first time in my life. “Okay. I guess that would be alright.” I said, nodding my head. Paul’s face broke out in a wide smile. “Alright! Come on.” He cheered, grabbing my hand and pulling me along, I’m guessing in the direction of where his friends were.

It didn’t take long to reach his friends. There were 3 of them, all on bikes and one lone bike, I assumed is Paul’s. Two of his friends were blondes like him. Although, one of the blondes was more of a platinum bleach blonde, in a short, straight mullet, wearing a long trench coat. The other blonde had a long, curly mullet hairstyle, he was noticeably shorter than Paul and the others and was wearing a very colourful patchwork jacket. The third one had dark brown hair, was wearing a leather jacket with a jaguar painted on it and had a very serious look on his face. Paul let go of my hand once we reached them and once again wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Guys, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Dwayne, David and Marko.” Paul said, pointing to each of them as he introduced them. “Hi.” I said quietly, as I gave them a small wave. “Hey babe.” The one named Marko said, giving me his own small wave, wiggling his fingers arms as he did so. Dwayne just gave me a nod. “Well, hello there y/n. You new in Santa Carla?” David asked with a smirk that made me a little uncomfortable. He was looking at me kind of like a predator. “Uhh, Yeah. I just moved here a couple weeks ago.” I answered, shifting uncomfortably in my spot next to Paul. “It’s her first night on the boardwalk so I told her that we’d make sure she had a fun time.” Paul informed them. They just grinned at me. “Well, let’s not disappoint our new friend here.” David said. “How about we go for a little ride first, hmm?” David asked, looking directly at me. “Umm. I don’t know. I’ve never been on a motorbike before.” I told them. Paul let out a laugh. “Don’t worry sugar. I’ll keep you safe.” He assured me. I looked at him sceptically, but ultimately agreed.

Paul got onto his bike first, then he helped me on behind him. “Hold on tight okay.” I told me as he grabbed my arms and wrapped them around him. “Okay.” I said as I nodded. “Relax babe, Paul’s not that bad of a driver… most of the time.” Marko teased. That didn’t really help in calming my nerves. “Alright, let’s ride boys!” David said. I was already getting the feeling he was probably the “leader” of this little group. They all started up their bikes, revving the engines, then taking off. I held onto Paul even tighter as we sped down the boardwalk, letting out a surprised yelp as we rode down the stairs and onto the beach. They boys were yelling, cheering and hollering as we sped down the beach, weaving around people here and there. I just held on tight to Paul and buried my face into his back, praying that I made it to wherever we were going in one piece.

Eventually we made it to a cliff over looking the ocean. We finally came to a stop and everyone turned off their bikes. I was still holding tight onto Paul, causing him to let out a laugh. “You can let go now sugar, we’re here.” He told me. I managed to get myself to let go of Paul and we got off of his bike. “See. That wasn’t so bad, now was it?!” Marko said with a grin and a laugh. “I don’t know. I think I blocked out the whole thing.” I told him. That just caused them all the laugh. Not really in a mean way or anything. Paul grabbed my hand and lead me down some old wooden stairs, and to the mouth of a cave. I turned to Paul and gave him a questioning look. He just grinned and told me to watch my step as we made our way inside. Dwayne went around lighting some barrels, lighting up the cave. I looked around in awe. “Woah. This place is awesome.” I said as I slowly walked around, looking at everything. “This was the hottest resort in Santa Carla back about eighty years ago. Too bad they built it on a fault. In 1906, when the big one hit San Francisco, the ground opened up and this place took a header into the crack. Now it’s ours.” David explained. “Lucky you guys I guess.” I said, still looking around a bit.

“So. Do you guys live here or something?” I asked, no one in particular. “Yeah, we do.” Marko enthusiastically replied. “That’s cool. Must be nice.” I told them. It really must be nice. I’m assuming they don’t pay rent on a cave, so moneys not a problem. Also they don’t have to worry about their parents like I do. Must be nice, relaxing.. calm. “Here babe. Have some of this.” Paul said, handing me a joint he just lit. “Thanks.” I said, taking it from him and taking a hit. I made my way over to one of the couches and sat down, handing the joint back to Paul as I passed him where he was standing on the edge of the fountain that was in the middle of the room.

After a while Marko was sent out for food and Paul had since joined me on the couch. “So.” David started, looking at me from where he was sitting in a wheelchair. “How do you like Santa Carla so far? You go to school? Work?” He asked all at once. “Uh. Well, from the little bit I’ve seen, yeah. I guess I like it so far. And no. I finished school already. And well, I just moved here, so no job either.” I answered. David just nodded. He and the others asked a few more questions like that and I answered best I could. At some point, Paul got up and went over to his “rockbox”, as he called it, and put on some music. “Come on y/n! Dance with me!” He said, grabbing me and pulling me up off of the couch. “I don’t really know how to dance Paul.” I confessed with a laugh. “Ah, don’t worry sugar pie. You don’t gotta know how to dance. Just move around however you feel like moving!!” He said, moving my arms around. I just laughed with him and did what he said. Honestly, I felt a bit silly, but the weed helped relax me quite a bit, so I just went with what he told me to do.

I ended up really enjoying my night with them. Feeling relaxed and free for the first time since…. Well, for the first time ever, really. But, as all things must, the night had to come to an end. I said goodbye to the guys before making my way out of the cave with Paul. We got onto his bike and headed to my house, after I told him where it was. I also told him to park a few houses down, as to not wake my parents since I had snuck out. “I had a really good time with you guys tonight Paul.” I told him as we stood next to his bike. “Told ya we’d show you a good time babe.” He said with a smirk. “Yeah. That you did.” I agreed. “But really. Thank you Paul. I haven’t smiled and laughed that much in a really long time. If ever.” I confessed. Paul gave me a small frown before quickly covering it up with a smile. “Well. Get ready to do it a lot more, cause you’re gonna be hanging with us all the time now sugar.” He informed me with a big grin on his face. I couldn’t hold back the smile that grew on my face and before I could think, I pulled Paul into a tight hug. Paul quickly hugged me back. “Thank you.” I quietly said to him. When we pulled away, Paul gave me a sweet smile before hopping onto his bike. “Night sugar. Meet us at the boardwalk tomorrow night at 8 okay?” He said. I nodded. “8 o’clock. Got it.” I confirmed.

“Oh wait! Almost forgot.” Paul said as he dug his hand into his pocket, quickly pulling something out. He held it out to me with a big grin. It took me a second to register what he was holding. I looked from the item in his hand and back to his face and took it from him. “Paul. Is this-“ I started to say but he cut me off. “I know you said you didn’t want me to buy it for you……. So I didn’t..” he said with a shit eating grin. My eyes widened. “You stole it!” I whisper shouted at him. He just shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. I just shook my head at him. “You shouldn’t have done that Paul.” I said, looking from him then to the necklace, then smiled. “But thank you.” It really was sweet of him. “You’re welcome sugar.” He said before he started up his bike. I turned made my way to my house as he rode away. Climbing up the tree and back through my window as quietly as I could, all I could think of was how excited I was for tomorrow night to come. 

Spam liking without reblogging = blocked

[crescentblossom66]

Sits in an empty hall

Looks at you with my eyes

Personal yes. But

👍 may I have a fic of bow talking about her favourite shapes and empress taking that as inspiration for her upcoming jewellery and naming it after bow? [ or having a bit of symbolism towards bow]

Hope that req isn't out of reach

Took a while, but I managed to find some inspiration today so...here we go. I hope this is good enough.

Art is in the eye of the beholder

The Empress tapped one claw against the counter top, sighing from boredom. There had been hardly any customers, and it seems like the metro was fairly quiet as it was a little before rush hour. She had read the news paper already and had gathered intel from her most trusted cats that she had send out on a reconnaissance mission, and...nothing, no big money to be made, no important people to rob, no jewels or antique items to steal, absolutely nothing. She had sat down earlier to make new accessories and cut the newly acquired gems into shapes, but found that she hated all the common once. Heart shapes, teardrops, and oval were all so...basic and uninspired that it irked her. She wanted to try something more...unconventional, but what?

A few minutes later the doorbell of the store rang and Bow Kid entered with a smile and skipped inside. “I'm back!” Her smile was greeted by the fake smile that the tall cat usually displayed, Bow had found out years ago that it wasn't genuine, so she asked with a bit of concern. “Is something wrong?” The tall cat recoiled for a moment after Bow had so easily seen through her facade...she was getting better at analyzing people...that was a good thing.

“No, Bow, don't worry, nothing bad has happened. How was school?” She changed the topic, and thankfully the girl fell for the obvious distraction.

“Today was awesome! I did okay in math, I even managed to answer a difficult question!” She beamed and looked proud of herself.

“Very good, Bow, very good. I've heard from your teacher that you're improving quickly and that you aren't neglecting your studies. I'm proud of you.” Considering that she herself had to learn everything on the streets after living in poverty her early life, she was quite happy that Bow was doing well in school. More intelligence and a wider understanding of the world would serve her well later. Her streets smarts would come in soon enough when she'd go on her missions. Soon she'd bring Bow with her on the easier missions and teach her all she needed to know so that she one day could succeed her as the feared “Empress of the Metro”

“Art was amazing too, today we talked about some guy called, Picasso. That artist made some funny paintings that don't make sense at all. I needed to think outside the box and create a drawing with weird and unconventional shapes.-” Bow Kid put her backpack on the ground and shuffled though her school utensiles until she found her art folder. “-Look, isn't it wacky! Maybe it can cheer you up!” Bow Kid smiled and gave Empress the drawing she had made.

The drawing that Bow Kid had given her really didn't make sense at all, the shapes looked strange and all over the place, none could be recognized as anything specific...Wait...That was it! Maybe she could use those weird shapes for her jewels! “Thank you, Bow. I got a feeling this will come in handy.”

Bow Kid was surprised to find the strange shapes she had made for the drawings, were now the shapes used for various pendants of necklaces and inserted into bracelets a few days later after she returned form school.

[heartbreakblda]

Your "I'm Feeling Romantic" Boys' Love

Spring is in the air and you feel like having a group of butterflies taking some training laps in your tummy. 🥰🥰🥰 You want some real cuteness and you want some proper good fluff. Skinship is not even necessary, a long stare can be even better.

🌹❤️🌹

Cherry Magic (Japan)

Apparently fate just decided to make things easier for 30 year old virgins.😏 Because it gives you the power to mind read. And when shy office worker Adachi finally gains this power, he is in for a surprise as the office hottie Kurosawa seems to have the biggest crush on him.

Perfect example of the sweetness of love. It will make you swoon like crazy. 🥰

🌹❤️🌹

Seven Days (Japan)

Everyone knows Seryou dates, whoever asks him first on a Monday. It never lasts longer than a week. Seven days. But when Yuzuru asks Seryou out of the blue, things are suddenly a lot more complicated than either boy thought.

This is an older one, but gosh. 🥹 Just the two leads alone will steal your heart in an instance. This is a manga becoming reality on the highest level possible.

🌹❤️🌹

A Tale Of A Thousand Stars (Thailand)

Spoilt brat Tian suddenly needs a new heart and by fate, he gets the heart of a young voluntary teacher from a mountain village. Feeling somehow connected to this heart, Tian goes on a journey to fulfil his donor's last wish and ends up meeting his own fortune.

This show is so good 😭🥰, it almost survives without even a kiss. But the longing stares… This love story is special. It’s Mix and Earth at their freaking best.

🌹❤️🌹

Kieta Hatsukoi (Japan)

A misunderstanding brings these two school boys together and jointly they are conquering all the pitfalls of a first love and a first relationship. From the first shy glances, to holding a hand all the way to fighting homophobia together. It’s all there. 🥹

The entire beauty of a first love. It’s absolutely stellar and you won’t stop smiling like a freaking lunatic, as it’s just so cute.

🌹❤️🌹

Cutie Pie (Thailand)

We are going full blown BL fantasy here. 🥳 We have filthy rich characters, an arranged marriage, hidden double lives, driving motorcycles, singing, kissing… all the works. Everyone is gay and happy, and they will also just make you gay and happy by watching. The skinship is awesome and the chemistry between NuNew and Zee is out of this world. This is every girl’s wet dream. 😏

🌹❤️🌹

Candy And Kisses (Japan)

Maeda feels like an ugly duckling and is 100 percent sure that no other human could ever be interested in him. When his crush Yagii suddenly kisses him, Maeda is over the moon, but can a man like Yagii really be interested in a loser like Maeda? 😳

This movie really shows that your own insecurities can be your biggest enemy sometimes, no matter how much you are loved.

🌹❤️🌹

Be Loved In House: I Do (Taiwan)

Shi Lei loves his work as a jewellery designer, but when he gets a new boss, his idle life is pretty much over. To his dismay, his boss also moves into his flat as it’s provided by their company. Things seem really dark, but somehow, his boss is totally not what Shi Lei expected… 😏

You meet Aaron Lei again, who charmed us all in the first HiStory instalment. His chemistry with Hank is just totally spot on and you will just melt away with these two cuties finding their way to each other.

🌹❤️🌹

Plus And Minus (Taiwan)

They have been best friends since kindergarten. They went to school together, studied together and are now working together as lawyers. Things could be so easy but a sudden incident puts everything on it’s head both of them thought they knew. This production didn’t catch as much attention during airing, but the extreme chemistry between the two leads absolutely made this one explode in the aftermath.🤯 So absolutely worth giving it a try. You might be surprised. 😏

🌹❤️🌹

About Youth (Taiwan)

Ye Guang is living a perfect life. He is from a good background, has straight As and is doing everything his parents feel he might need to be a super successful adult. Qi Zhang on the other hand lives with his single mother and lives for his music. When their paths unexpectedly cross, both have to answer some very hard questions about their own future.

This one is such a fun one. It has a light and airy feel about it, while the storyline is still really gripping and even with a touch of social commentary in it. It’s extremely enjoyable and the young actors all did an amazing job. And keep your eyes peeled for the side couple. Just saying. 😏😏

[IMG=HOB]

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 6 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 ** Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

All five of us go to Adriata together to see my paintings in Tarquin’s gallery, and I am filled with warmth to be surrounded by Rhys's friends- by my friends.

Tarquin was able to pick the works up in Velaris, since he had an appointment in the city nearby. Then it was a week before the new show opened, and I spent much of that time Instagram stalking the other artists in the exhibition. They’re wonderful.

We arrive with timing that Cassian calls “fashionably late,” despite my worries that it would be rude to Tarquin after he so kindly put my art on his walls. But if he is displeased, of course he does not show it. In fact he positively beams at us when we walk through the door, a motley crew of leather jackets and red lipstick.

Tarquin looks incredible.

He’s in full host mode, in a stunning velvet blazer, gold jewellery and patent shoes.

“My dear friends,” he greets us. “How wonderful that you could make it.”

There’s a champagne glass in his hand and with a snap of his fingers, suddenly we each have one, too.

“Tarquin, this place is amazing. I don’t know how to thank you.” Tarquin waves me off.

“Well come on, let’s go see the main attraction.”

We all trail after him until we see my paintings- only they’re not just my paintings anymore. Tarquin has put them in simple black frames with wide, white mounts. I don’t know how this makes such a difference but here, in the bright gallery lighting and in the open space of the off-white walls and pale wooden floorboards, they’re somehow elevated. The colours are brighter and the shadows deeper, and I suddenly consider that what Tarquin does is artistry, too.

The paintings are abstract but based on landscapes. Seascapes, to be more accurate. The two pictures that Tarquin had picked were ones that I had done based on a beach trip we took when I was a child. It makes sense, since the show is largely reflective of the local area. So for the new paintings I cast my mind back to our most recent trip, and being dumped in the surf, and driving home at sunset, and making new friends. The results are frothy whites, and a glowing orange, and the colour of Tarquin's blazer. And if there is speckled black curling at the edges, that might be the salt drying in Rhys's hair, but I'd never tell.

The gang fan out and murmur their appreciation, while Tarquin comments that the two he picked are still his favourite. I catch Azriel’s eye and his winks at me, and I try to hide my grin. Rhys sees it anyway, and looks quizzically between us. We still haven’t told him about our little heist, and I kind of like that we have a secret. I never used to feel like I had much in common with Azriel, but there’s no bonding activity quite like break-and-enter. I look away quickly.

“Feyre, come I want to introduce you to the other artists,” Tarquin says, and tucks my arm into his. Rhys leans back to whisper in my ear as I go.

"Don't forget us when you're famous," he says. I stick my tongue out at him and let myself be lead away.

“So what do you think?” Tarquin asks in a low voice. He says it so only I can hear, makes it sound like he’s conspiring with me, and I do feel a bit special.

“It is honestly better than I could have imagined,” I tell him. It’s the truth. He laughs, and the sound is warm and rich and easy.

“I’m glad,” he says. “I hope you can see how well your work fits in here. They look great on the wall, and they complement the other artists.”

“I had a look at some of their work before I came here,” I admit. “At first I was pretty intimidated, but now that I’m actually here, and everything’s framed I can see it. Thank you for the frames, by the way.”

“That’s awesome!” Tarquin says. “And it’s no problem. I felt so lucky that Rhys introduced us, because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find a replacement artist on such short notice. I’m very picky, and I was looking for just the right energy for this show.”

“Well I’ll consider that a great compliment.”

“You should. Ah, Eris come over here. I want you to meet Feyre.”

I say hello to the artist Tarquin called Eris. He’s very tall and he’s wearing a burgundy suit, with his long red hair tied back. I immediately take a disliking to him, because he’s talking about his art with a pretentiousness that I thought was only ascribed by rich snotty collectors and critics after the fact. He’s saying things like the influence of the Enlightenment era juxtaposed with the postmodern framing and I want to gag. I refrain for Tarquin’s sake, and plaster on a smile and a nod instead. My eyes meet Rhys’s across the room, and as if he can read my mind, he smirks at me. I think for a second that he’s making his way over to us, but the next thing I know, Tarquin is dragging me to another artist, and when I look back for Rhys, I see that Cress has found and cornered him. Does he look bored, or do I just wish he does?

I am introduced to many more people over the course of the next two hours. The rest of the artists, but also a couple of dealers, collectors, and friends of Tarquin’s from the art world. Tarquin is good at making sure everyone feels included in conversation, and seems to remember little details about every person he talks to- it’s Beron, good to see you, how’s your wife recovering? and Rita, I’ll never forget that dinner you cooked when we visited, and Oh Feyre has a tattoo by Amren too, don’t you Feyre?

My cheeks start to hurt from smiling, and at one stage I almost have heart attack when Tarquin touches the elbow of a man with blonde hair and I think for one nauseating second that it’s Tamlin.

What he’d do if he saw my paintings here, instead of in his garage, I really could not imagine.

But we’re in Adriata, far out from the city, and I don’t know if Tamlin really knows what any of my paintings look like anyway.

Finally I am released, and left near a table of drinks, when Tarquin is called away by a staff member. He gives me an apologetic look and squeezes my hand before he goes, and although I am relieved, it’s not because he’s leaving. I’m not big into schmoozing, but I will never not be grateful for what Tarquin has done for me tonight.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m a super-rich megadouche.”

I turn at the voice, and find Rhys with a very serious face on and his hand out. I shake it, and I'm quickly revived by his presence.

“Mr Megadouche, so nice to meet you. You know I’ve been looking for a patron.”

“Alas,” Rhys says solemnly. “Would that I could my dear, but I am already paying young Eris over there to frolic and gambol and produce the occasional painting. His latest, on the conjunction between Enlightenment and postmodernism, is said to be quite something.”

I laugh, and then turn serious. “Well to be fair to Eris, it would indeed be a challenge to meld the enamour of reason and science with the inherent criticism of empirical truth.” Rhys’s eyebrows go up, and he looks like he’s trying to decide if I’m joking or not. “It’s just a shame he can’t paint for shit,” I finish in a whisper, and Rhys’s laugh is delighted.

I laugh too, but I also cast a furtive glance around the room. Far be it for me to mock artists with years more experience than I have. But I do like making Rhys smile.

“Are you having a good time?” he asks, eyes still sparkling. He leans against the drinks table, and jostles me with his shoulder.

“I am,” I say. “I still can’t believe my paintings are in a gallery.” Rhys scoffs.

“I can’t believe you let Tarquin tell you how good they are, but when I do it, it doesn’t count.”

“I never said it doesn’t count!”

“You tried to sell me a painting for fifty dollars. And that was a custom piece.” He jabs a finger at me in accusation.

“You gave me a place to live!”

“How much are you letting Tarquin sell for?”

“I don’t see what relevance-”

“How much?”

“Twelve hundred,” I relent.

“See!”

“Rhys are you jealous of Tarquin?” I tease.

“No,” Rhys says defensively.

“Because I saw you over in the corner there with Cress.”

I’m joking, but as Rhys opens his mouth to answer he stops and gives me a strange look. A little shocked, the playfulness gone. Before I can wonder if I shouldn’t have said that, Tarquin appears behind me.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Hors d’Oeuvres emergency.”

“Hello Tarquin,” Rhys says coolly, his face now blank. I try not to giggle, because I’m pretty sure Rhys is doing it to amp up the jealousy bit.

“Hey Rhys,” Tarquin says, not noticing at all. “How are you liking the show?”

“You have exquisite taste,” Rhys says.

“Thank you, I’ve always thought so.” Tarquin grins, then turns to me. “I’ve got something to show you, Feyre.”

“Ooh exciting,” Rhys says, pushing off the table. He looks expectantly at Tarquin, who isn’t phased even though I'm not sure he was talking to the both of us, and leads us both back toward the wall where my paintings are.

“There,” he says.

“What?” I look around, but can’t see that anything’s changed since I saw them when I came in. Tarquin grabs a hold of my hand and tugs me closer. He points to one of the paintings he chose, one from Tamlin’s house.

“There.”

And then I see it.

A little round, red sticker, about the size of my thumbnail.

“Oh my god,” I breathe. “Is that…”

“Yep.” Tarquin is grinning as bright as the sun. “And there.” He points to the other painting he had picked. “And there.” And finally, to a third painting, that I had done for the show and had been so worried that it was too rushed and not good enough.

“Holy. Shit.”

“Feyre, you sold three paintings!”

“I sold three paintings,” I repeat in disbelief.

“You sold three mother fucking paintings!” Tarquin’s arms spread out wide with glee, and in this moment I love that he, a gallery owner who organises the sale of hundreds of paintings a year, is this excited for me. I laugh and throw my arms around him, and Tarquin squeezes me tightly before pulling back. “You know,” he says, serious now. “This is just the beginning. The people who buy from here are connected. You’re on the up and up, baby.”

He raises his hand for a high five and I slap it, not feeling cool enough to be an adult who high fives, but I know that he's not just pumping me ego. This night has been an enormous opportunity for me, and it just never would have happened without Tarquin.

“Now,” he says, and he looks at Rhys and claps him on the shoulder. “Find your friends, you are all coming to the after party at Rita’s.”

“Rita that woman I met before?”

“Yep, she owns a club not too far from here and she’s put us all on the list. I’ve gotta go talk to some people but I’ll meet you there, okay?”

And with that, he slips away.

“Congratulations,” Rhys says. I laugh again, and it feels surreal. Rhys holds his arms out and as I step into him, I realise it's so rare that we hug. He's so much taller than me I feel engulfed, especially since my nose doesn't even clear his shoulder. His arms fold around me so that his hands touch his opposite elbows, and I'm wrapped in the scent of him. I suddenly wonder where he's been all night.

“Thank you,” I say. I pull back, reluctantly, and look around for the others. “Should we round everyone up?”

Twenty minutes later, we’re back in Cassian’s car and he’s pulling up to a club which Google Maps indicates is Rita’s. He and Azriel head down, but Mor won’t let me go because she’s not satisfied with my outfit. We’re standing in the carpark and I don’t know what she expects me to do about this. Cassian just throws her the keys and keeps walking.

“Feyre, you can’t wear this to a club,” she says. “This is a nice club.”

“I didn’t bring a second outfit, Mor!” I look down at what I’m wearing and disagree. I’m wearing the nicest shirt I have, it’s oversized and pale blue satin, tucked into good jeans and platform sneakers.

“Alright alright I can fix this…” Mor swivels her head back and forth, as if she can magically find a spare wardrobe in Cassian’s truck. “Rhys, don’t you go anywhere. Okay Feyre, first lose the jeans. This shirt is long enough without it.”

“It is not,” I protest.

“Mor is this strictly necessary?” Rhys asks. He leans against the car door.

“It covers your ass, you’re fine,” Mor tells me. I groan, but start wriggling out of my jeans. To Rhys, she says, “Yes, yes it is. Feyre’s gotta make a good impression.”

“On whom?” Rhys asks, at the same time as I say “I already sold paintings you know.”

“On people,” Mor says. “Rhys, give me your belt.”

Rhys signs resignedly, as if this is not the first time Mor has co-opted his clothes for her own purposes. "Feyre," she continues, "you're single, you're talented, and you're adorable. Act like it." She holds her hand out for my jeans, ignores my eye roll, and starts looping Rhys's belt around my waist.

“Well maybe I like being single,” I tell her, as she pulls the tie from my bun.

"Really? Because as far as I can tell you're not fucking anyone, and that means you're doing single wrong." She tousles my hair and arranges the strands around my face.

"I resent that," I inform her. She pretends not to hear.

“Almost done. Swap shoes with me,” Mor says.

I look at Rhys for help but he just shrugs. “You can argue but she always gets her way.”

“It’s true,” Mor says. “Shoes.”

I sigh and hand them over, feeling like exchanging sneakers for strappy heels is not a good deal.

“Why do you get to dress down then?” I whine. But even as I say it, I know it’s not true. Mor is in a short, tight red bandage-dress that even with white sneakers looks stunning.

“Alright come on, let’s go already,” Rhys complains.

“Just one more thing,” Mor says before I slide out, and then she grabs my face and presses her lips to mine.

“Mor,” Rhys chides.

“What, I didn’t bring my lipstick. We have to share.” She smudges her thumb over my lips to get the effect she wants. “Feyre you look good, you can go now.”

She throws my jeans in the backseat of the truck and then locks it, while I tug the hem of my shirt down. I would have preferred another inch or two but I guess with the belt it does feel okay. I glance at my reflection in the car window, and I have to admit, I do look better. Rhys comes up behind me.

“I’m sorry about her,” he says quietly. I smile at him.

“I kinda like it, actually.” I feign confidence, unbotheredness.

Rhys looks at me then. A sweep of his gaze from my bare legs to my stained lips, and something in his eyes as he does it makes my knees buckle, just a little. He leans in to murmur in my ear. “I do too, don't tell Mor.”

And then in we go.

***

Eek I'm sorry I missed my posting day!

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @themoonthestarsthesuriel @rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red @alerialumina

[spiderlilyserendipity]

omg violet you write so well!! if you can, could you write a taehyung nsfw of while on vacation, tae's girlfriend wakes him up early with kisses and promises to do "whatever he wants" if he gets up with her and explores the city and tae holds her to that promise when they get back to their hotel starting with some steamy (private) hot tub sex?

Anon, you are awesome but you have ruined my brain. I got so carried away writing this fic, it is double the size I thought it would be. Many thoughts, head full typa situation. Thank you. This one is titled Only One. Enjoy <3

WC: 4475

Genres: Smut, fluff, angst

Tags: established relationship, anniversary dinners, tae x oc take a trip to Paris

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, sir kink, punishment, praise kink, use of the word slut once, colour system as a safeword, insecurity, possessiveness, possessive sex, aftercare, taehyung is very 🥵🥵🥵 in this one y’all

(*Cis female reader*)

“Y/N, Y/N, should we take a picture over there?” Taehyung asks, batting his eyes cutely.

You smile but roll your eyes at Taehyung’s enthusiasm.

Not to be mistaken, if there’s anyone who loves their boyfriend, it’s you. You would live and die for Kim Taehyung, but there’s a special reason for your eyeroll today.

It has been only two weeks since Taehyung got off tour, and at that a world tour. You know Taehyung must be very tired from constantly travelling, hence why you let your boyfriend get his full rest the first week. But the thing is you haven’t seen your lover in a year, and you want to make some memories with him. 

You know he will get too busy once the post-tour lull passes over everyone at the company and everything goes back to regular schedule. Then, Taehyung will get sucked away by album preparations, promotions once it’s out, and inevitably: another tour.

You love that Taehyung gets to do what he loves for a living. You also love how cool he looks on stage. But most of all you like getting to spend time with him. 

To be honest, you were going to go see Taehyung in Paris during the European leg of the tour. It had been your anniversary, and the two of you had plans to get dinner together and enjoy the city. But then life happened and your plans came crashing down, preventing you from seeing Taehyung until the tour ended months later.

But past you had thought quickly, knowing the day Taehyung would return home and shifted your ticket instead of cancelling. So a week after Taehyung got home, you presented him with a second plane ticket to Paris, France that you bought last minute just for him.

You thought Taehyung would agree with making up for your missed anniversary, but Taehyung had frowned instead. “Babe, I seriously don’t want to go anywhere for a while. I’m sick of hotels and planes.”

“But I’ve never been there, baby. It would be so romantic!” You convinced him eventually, your pout winning him over. Taehyung had sighed, then called his manager to let him know.

So excited from Taehyung agreeing, you had leapt up into his arms and kissed him like crazy. “Ahhh! I’m so excited!”

Taehyung had held back a grin. “Okay. But no touristy stuff.”

You pout. “But that’s the most fun part!” When Taehyung pouts back, you try to convince him again. “Baby, I promise I’ll seriously do anything you say if you do all the embarrassing touristy stuff with me.”

“Anything?” Taehyung asked you, arching a brow. 

You took his hand, nodding eagerly. “Anything. Let’s just have fun!”

Taehyung grinned at you. “You better keep your word.”

You had kissed him, grinning at him. He watched you with a fond smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You bet I will.” You vow.

It isn’t until you actually land in Paris that you realize what anything Taehyung is imagining.

For all his great qualities, Taehyung is not subtle about what he wants. Especially when he wants you.

The first three days, Taehyung lets you drag him around under the condition that you both wear disguises to avoid being noticed. You comply, picking odd hours of the day for activities that would be very busy at other times of day. You hit all the touristy spots in early mornings before the crowd, hide away in small tucked away cafes and restaurants with Taehyung during lunch hour, then spend the day browsing vintage stores for jewellery and clothes. 

It’s all fun and games except for the teasing that Taehyung will not stop. It’s hard for you to name a time of day where Taehyung’s big hands hadn’t been resting on your waist or his lips idly pressing a kiss to your cheek in passing. You know very well the game Taehyung is playing. He is slowly working you up, getting you used to his constant touches. Then, he will withdraw them, leaving you needy. 

Despite Taehyung’s teasing, the two of you still have a great time. You buy souvenirs for your friends and things for yourself. Taehyung also buys you clothes and jewellery, loving to spoil you. But what you love the most are the small establishments he brings you to, full of tasty food and where no one knows his name. You know the game Taehyung is playing, but you let him guide you to an isolated table towards the back and feed you food off his own utensils. You let him wipe the corner of your mouth for some smeared sauce, let him lick it off his thumb. Sometimes, you even get a little on your face on purpose. Taehyung notices when you do that, and lets you get away with it. After all, this isn’t a favour he’s doing you. This is your anniversary trip. He can’t be the only one getting away with teasing.

The following three days, the two of you hit the museums. Taehyung shows you around, explaining things he had seen on previous trips to Paris. You listen to him, happier to see him happy than to really look at the art. You take pictures of your boyfriend inside the museum and really anywhere it won’t catch too much attention.

Over those three days, Taehyung’s touches decrease. He reduces it little by little, but you know him well by now. Taehyung isn’t trying to be subtle, rather the opposite. He wants you to notice, to get riled up when his touch is gone. 

You tell yourself you don’t mind it, but both of you know it’s a lie. You ignore the smirk on Taehyung’s face every time you intertwine your hands or wrap an arm around his waist to guide him through the back roads. You will get back at him at dinner tonight.

After lunch on the final day, you tell Taehyung to head back to the hotel on his own. You say you are going to buy a new dress for your dinner date tonight, and that you want it to be a surprise for him. Chuckling, Taehyung just passes you his blackcard and tells you to have fun.

You buy a dark green coloured gown, Taehyung’s favourite colour, and a matching necklace and earrings set of emeralds. You smile at the sight of your ass being cupped by the silky material. This is sure to drive Taehyung mad. After all, tonight is the final night. Both of you know exactly how tonight will end.

You catch a cab to the five star Taehyung made a reservation at. You pay the taxi driver excitedly, getting out in your all new outfit, new heels, and even a new purse! You were sure to impress Taehyung.

You walk into the restaurant, telling the waiter who you’re here with. He lets you in, guiding you upstairs to your table.

You frown as you see your table. From this angle, you can’t see who, but Taehyung is talking to a woman. You approach quietly, catching neither of their attention. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, they’re talking loudly. You don’t speak much French but you don’t need it to deal with this woman. You hear her mention the word “model” and a woman’s clothing brand. You hear her repeat “model” a second time as she blatantly roams her eyes down Taehyung’s figure, then up at him. That’s the part that makes your blood boil. You know she is aware of your presence. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of relationship you and Taehyung have.

But she still challenges you anyway, openly eyeing your man in public. If you could speak more French than basic small talk you would rip her a new one. 

Fuck it. You think, making your way across the room. Who needs to know the language?

“Oh, baby.” You say in a sweet voice. They both look over at you. The woman looks visibly irritated, pursing her perfect lips in annoyance. What a shame you like to flirt with other women’s men. You think, slightly in awe at her beauty. I’d like you in any other situation. “Is this a friend?” You ask.

You see a hint of a smile before Taehyung bites it back. “No, Y/N. We just met tonight.”

You smile pointedly at the woman. She frowns at you. “Ah, I see. Well, it was nice meeting you. We haven’t had dinner yet, so.” You say, pretending to be apologetic for cutting the conversation short. All three of you know you’re not, but it’s the thought that counts. Or doesn’t. You couldn’t care less.

“Colour.” Taehyung asks the minute you’re back in the hotel room. 

“Green.” 

“Poor baby. Got so angry that I took my eyes off you, huh?” Taehyung teases, hooking his fingers in the band of your underwear. He pulls back, making it snap against your hips. You whimper. “What’s that? Are you trying to say something?” Taehyung taunts you.

He cranes his head to look at you. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He makes a fake-worried face. “That’s odd, you were talking perfectly fine a few hours ago. Was it something in the food that’s making you feel sick or are you just embarrassed from being a possessive little slut in front of sir?”

His words make you shiver. He grins as he feels it against his own abdomen. “It seems like you’re really sick, Y/N. I guess we'll just have to go to bed.”

He begins to unwind his arms from around your waist, but you grab them, holding them against your skin. “S-Sir.” You whisper.

“There’s my girl.” Taehyung says proudly, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple. “Let’s talk about what you did wrong tonight, shall we?”

“I-I was possessive. I got jealous because you were talking to that model.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker at the last word. “Oh, you heard?” He snaps the band of underwear against your skin again. You wriggle, but he refuses to let you go. “What a bad girl. Eavesdropping on sir’s conversations. What if she had been a potential colleague and you ruined everything? But you didn’t think of any of that, only your. own. feelings.” He emphasizes each of the three words with another smack. “You’re just an ungrateful little slut, aren’t you? I bet you would open your legs for any man that offered you this kind of treatment, huh?” He growls in your ear.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whisper, voice cracking.

Taehyung stops. “Colour.” He says, thumbs gently stroking at your sides.

“Green.” 

“Y/N.” He repeats more firmly. You sniffle. A tear rolls down your cheek. Taehyung thumbs it away immediately. “We don’t have to. I’m sorry. Do you want to take a bath together? We can cuddle after. Anything you’re comfortable with baby.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “I’m really okay. I...I want my punishment.”

Taehyung turns you to look at him. He watches your face, looking for any unwillingness. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He smiles finally when he sees the familiar, hazy look in your eyes. You are already slipping into subspace.

“Follow me.” Taehyung says.

You walk behind him, still naked except for your panties. Taehyung is still entirely clothed in his suit and tie. He leads you to the fancy living room of the suite, and closes the curtains. You wait until he sits down to approach him. You observe his spread legs and the stern look in his eye. The air in the living room is freezing cold, but it only adds to it. This is one of the many things you love about Taehyung. How incredibly sexy he looks when he is in control.

Without being asked, you get on the sofa on your hands and knees. You drape your body over Taehyung’s lap, ass up in his lap. You fold your arms over the sofa’s armrest, turning your head to look at Taehyung. 

Taehyung’s warm hand caresses your ass. He kneads at the flesh roughly without breaking eye contact with you. On the outside, he looks indifferent, dark eyes sultry. He makes it look like he couldn't care less if it was you or another sub being bent to his will. But you know it’s part of the scene, that he’s watching you this intensely for your reaction and it is only your reaction he ever wants in a setting like this.

“You can safeword out if you need to.” He reminds you. You nod, putting your head against the armrest. “Count.” He tells you, before the first smack comes down.

You flinch on instinct, but his arm pins the backs of your thighs down. “One.”

Another smack but to the other cheek. You hiss under your breath. “Two.”

Taehyung gives the next three in succession. “F-Five.”

“Colour?” Taehyung re-checks. You reply green again. He delivers two more. “Six, ah, seven.”

The next two smacks are harsher. “Eight, nine一!” As you’re counting, Taehyung gives the final one. This one is the hardest of all, making the two of you sink a little lower into the sofa. “T-Ten.”

You are crying now, falling deeper into your subspace. Taehyung’s warm hands smooth over the places they hit. His voice murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you.

“S-Sorry.” You continue to cry. “I didn’t mean to be like that.”

“I know.” Taehyung reassures you. He helps you up into a sitting position. It burns to sit on your still painful ass, but you do so anyway because it’s Taehyung who asks you to do it. “You took my punishment very well, Y/N, just like a good girl.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “I don’t wanna be ‘a good girl’, I wanna be your good girl.” You say. Taehyung frowns slightly as he wonders what that means, then looks shocked when he realizes what you’re saying.

“You are my good girl, baby.” He says softly, wiping away your tears. “No one but you.”

“But i-it was our a-anniversary dinner and you were letting her flirt with you. You just一just let her do it. And when I called you baby at the restaurant, you only called me Y/N.” You confess, giving up your fake confident act. The truth is that despite your anger in the moment, you had felt very insecure. It wasn’t like you could blame the woman for finding your boyfriend hot, anyone would. But the fact that Taehyung never said anything back and just put up with it instead of correcting her bothered you. Was it embarrassing to admit he was dating you in front of a woman who was so obviously his equal in elegance? This thought bothered you throughout the whole dinner. 

You didn’t plan on telling Taehyung about it, since he didn’t know you sometimes felt this way. One of the reasons you insisted on travelling to make up for your missed anniversary was this doubt. Maybe if you showed him around this fancy city and you made good memories with him, he might appreciate it. Maybe then it would ease your doubt of if you were worthy enough to be his.

You had never admitted this aloud to anyone, but you actually wondered If Taehyung had women in other countries that he went on dates with during tour. You know Taehyung is a good person but after all, he is a young man with sexual needs. And at that, a very attractive man who could get with just about any woman he wanted. So yes, seeing him talk to the very attractive woman had angered you, but it also made you feel like your worst fears might be true. 

“Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Taehyung pleads you, his worried brown eyes searching your face for any answers.

“...Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course, my love.” Taehyung responds. “Ask me anything you want, baby.’

You sniffle. You play with his suit blazer. “Can you promise to not get mad at me?”

Taehyung looks like he might cry when you ask that. “I promise.”

“When you go away for tour...is there anyone else?” You watch your own tears fall onto Taehyung’s dress shirt. Taehyung looks shaken. “It might seem random but I’ve always wondered. I promise I’m not just acting up because of tonight.”

Taehyung continues to watch you, looking worried and at a loss for words. You put on a fake smile. “Sorry, it’s probably nothing. Let’s just go to bed.” 

Taehyung holds you by the waist, stopping you from getting up. “Y/N.”

“I said it’s fine. It’s okay. Really, even if you had another woman. I can’t control what you do when you’re not with me. A year is too long for a couple to spend apart anyway, it’s only natural that your feelings would change. It’s okay. Anyway,” You breathe shakily. “Anyway I’m still yours. As long as you like, of course.”

“Of course I like it.” Taehyung insists, tears glistening in his eyes. “I love you. Tell me how long you’ve felt like this.”

You hesitate. “Y/N.” There it is again, that firm tone that you hate outside of scenes. 

You look down at your hands. “Maybe two years?”

Taehyung is crying now, and he cups your face in his hands. “You’ve been thinking like this for two years? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“...I didn’t want to burden you. You’re really busy on tour.”

Taehyung purses his lips. “Can I show you there’s no one else?”

You nod. Taehyung lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you by the backs of your thighs instead of your ass, careful not to hurt you. “The bed?” He asks. You consider the feeling of the rough sheets against your sore ass. 

You shake your head. “C-Can we use the hot tub?”

Taehyung kisses your forehead. “Anything for you.”

Taehyung sets up the hot tub for both of you. He takes your panties off for you, sliding them down your legs. He kisses you deeply, sweetly. You whimper into the kiss, his tongue completely in control of your mouth. When you part, a strand of saliva comes loose. When you part far enough, the saliva ends up on your chin. Taehyung wipes it with his thumb. A darkness has entered his eyes again. “Get in. Let me show you how much I love you.”

You get in the hot tub, relishing the feeling of the hot water. It stings a bit, but it’s easier to sit then the bed would have been. You sit with your legs spread slightly, calves tucked under you and feet beneath your ass. Neat and pretty. Just the way sir likes it.

Taehyung strips quickly once you’re in the water. Your eyes roam over his beautiful body, at the hard muscle of his chest, his bulging biceps, his caramel thighs, and his rigid cock. “Come here.” Taehyung orders as he gets in the water. You do so, climbing up into his lap. He kisses you hungrily, like this is the first time all night. You are surprised at the intensity of this kiss. You cannot recall a time Taehyung has ever kissed you so passionately in your years together, even in your roughest scenes. 

“So pretty.” Taehyung growls when you two part again. He wraps one arm around your waist to press your chest against his, then attacks your neck. You gasp as he makes love bites, all the way down your neck. He has never made this many before in total, yet he makes them everywhere tonight. He litters your collarbone and the top of your chest with them, making them bloom red at first but you know they will be a deep purple shade tomorrow. “How can you not know what you mean to me, when you’re this fucking beautiful? You drove me crazy in your dress tonight, no, you drive me crazy every fucking time I see you. Maybe even since the first time I met you.”

“S-Sir.” You moan at the praise, face heating up. Taehyung pushes you back against the wall of the hot tub. You tilt your head back against the tiles as he touches you everywhere. He uses his hands to tease at your nipples, making them harden. Even as he does it, he is grinding down on you. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

“You fucking know I am.” Taehyung snaps, losing the careful composure he wears during scenes. “You’re my one and my only. Look at yourself, so fucking lewd, all worked up by my touch. You have me wrapped around your finger and you still think I’d have another woman.” He continues, cursing in between his sentences at your sweet sounds.

“S-Sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry.” Taehyung cuts you off. You let out moans as he starts rubbing at your clit, hard and fast. You grind against his hand. In his dom persona, Taehyung would never tolerate you doing this, but both of you are too far gone tonight to follow the rules to a T. “I will clear this misunderstanding tonight. On your knees, princess.” 

You lean on top of the towel Taehyung placed for you on the tiles. Taehyung places his own knees outside of yours, and you feel his hard cock against your ass. Taehyung eases two fingers into you, wet from your arousal that it’s an easy fit. “Nnn, sir.” You plead, grinding down on him. 

“You won’t get more until you say what I want to hear.” Taehyung says next to your ear. He presses his chest into your back, pinning you to the edge of the hot tub. “Who do you belong to?”

“Sir! I belong to sir!” You cry out, and Taehyung picks up the pace.

“So fucking pretty.” Taehyung praises, kissing the marks he left on your neck. “Only you get treated like this, understand? No woman could ever be loved like this by me. Every time you forget I will bend you over my lap and make you come on my cock over and over until you get it in your head.”

You let out a particularly loud moan at that, making Taehyung smirk. “Does my princess like that, hmm? You want to get bent over and take my cock all the time? Want me to fill you up with my come, plug you with a pretty little toy, and make you go about your day?” Taehyung inserts another finger and the stretch has you whining. “Answer me.” He demands.

“I do. Ah, fuck, Taehyung. Please. I do.” You plead, tilting your head to the side. Taehyung meets you immediately in a passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, completely different from Taehyung’s usual style. Is this really what he can do when he lets go? You wonder, getting drunk on his kisses alone. You thought Taehyung had been rough before, but it’s nothing compared to tonight.

“Turn around.” Taehyung says, withdrawing his fingers. 

He takes in your needy expression, leaning in to kiss you again like he can’t get enough of you. “Can I come in you, baby? Have you been taking your pill regularly?” 

“Yes. Yes.” You chant. Taehyung laughs breathlessly, grabbing a fistful of your hip in one hand and lining himself up to your entrance.

When he enters, both of you moan. “So good. Whose are you, princess?”

“Yours, only yours.” You answer breathlessly. Taehyung grips your thighs and lifts you slightly, allowing him to enter you more deeply. 

Taehyung abruptly picks up the pace of his thrusts. You grip at his shoulders for support, unable to stop the noises that fall from your lips constantly. Not only is Taehyung going fast, he is also going incredibly deep, rubbing right over your G-spot. 

“C-Can I come, sir?” You beg.

Taehyung nods, and you move one hand between your legs to rub at your clit. As you tip your head back, Taehyung holds himself deep inside you. Both of you come at the same time, you clench hard around him and Taehyung pumps his seed inside you. He kisses at the marks on your neck as he comes, and you dig your nails into his back. 

You move your hand to his hair once you finish, stroking it gently. Taehyung pulls back from the wall, his hand smoothing down your back to ease any discomfort you felt being pressed against it. You don’t even notice until the postcoital bliss dies down that your ass was now more sore than before. But Taehyung does. 

“Let’s take a shower.” He tells you, helping you up. You both get out of the hot tub. Taehyung runs a small handcloth under the tap. He comes over and wipes your vagina down first, then cleaning himself. 

The two of you get in the shower together. You let Taehyung wash your body down, scrubbing gently and avoiding touching your ass. You grab his shampoo off the ledge and put a good amount in your palms. “What are you doing?” Taehyung asks, surprised that you turned around while he was washing your back.

“Taking care of you.” You mumble, washing Taehyung hair for him. You grab the detachable showerhead from the side. You shield his eyes with a hand as you rinse the soap out.

Taehyung smiles fondly at how concentrated you look. “Baby, a dom is supposed to look after their sub following a scene. Not the other way.”

You shrug. You probably heard that somewhere. Your brain is too foggy right now to think. “But I want to.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yes.” You answer, smiling at how nice Taehyung’s hair looks now that it’s clean. “Because I belong to you.”

Taehyung lightly pecks your forehead. “And I’m yours.”

Later, when the haze of your subspace wears off, you two are laying in bed together. You’re wearing one of Taehyung’s shirts and a pair of panties. Taehyung is shirtless and in a pair of boxers. Taehyung has just finished putting lotion on your sore bottom to ease the ache for tomorrow. 

You lay on top of Taehyung’s chest, and Taehyung tucks the blankets tucked in around you. You snuggle up against his chest, content in his strong arms.

“Y/N, I know I already proved my point, but you really are my only one.” Taehyung tells you. You don’t reply so he cranes his head to look at you. Taehyung smiles fondly to notice you’re already asleep. He kisses the top of your head. “No problem. I guess I have the rest of my life to prove it to you.” He mutters to himself.

You smile to yourself with your eyes closed.

Requests are open (✿◡‿◡)

[annarendellsa]

my heathers headcanons

it's the way i see them and draw them, you don't have to agree! this is based on both the musical and the movie

CW: mention of suic*de and e*ting disorders (bulimia) as well as various mental illnesses

Heather Duke

• heather duke is aromantic and yes its because she wears green, have you seen her socks in the off broadway musical? /hj

• more seriously, she IS aromantic but it took some time for her to figure out. she is allo but she doesn't label her sexuality, and she was always confused and frustrated to experience sexual attraction but never romantic attraction; she had a hard time accepting this part of herself.

• post heathers: maybe she discovers about non binary identities and asks her girlfriends to test out they/them pronouns on her? idk? aro-agender duke?

• she also struggles with empathy as she is naturally apathic

• and she's putting this image of a cold mean girl because she believes she can only be that given she's aro and ND

• post musical: she had no idea mcnamara actually tried to commit suic*de and when veronica tells her she breaks down in tears and spend a few days writing an apology letter to mcnamara

• post musical: mcnamara helps her to develop her compassion, knowing it's not her fault she's incapable of empathy. she didn't have to forgive her, but they did, and it really motivates duke to become a better person and be as nice as her

• post musical: she sees a doctor! she eventually recovers from her bulimia. veronica and mac are 100% supportive of her recovery, and very proud

• she gets bigger as part of her recovery and learns to embrace it

• duke is very pale with really dark and thick hair and eyebrows, soft features and quite a lot of body hair

• you know the bootleg where duke has blonde hair? when she's on the tv she speaks german and i vibe with german duke now

• duke Cannot say fuck and if someone is prude/innocent/idk it's her. the why are you pulling my dick was just to fluster veronica i think

Heather McNamara

• they use she/they pronouns!! just because. she still identifies as a girl though

• mac is autistic of course, it's like semi canon in the musical

• since she's very tall (movie) she stims while standing like being on the tip of her toes or rocking back and forth and the others can be quite annoyed because she moves a lot but they never snap at her

• post musical: veronica finds her stimming endearing and they know it's safe to stim around her, especially since veronica stims herself

• post musical: mac hums as a stim too and you can often find macnamawyer snuggling on the floor while humming in harmonies together

• she used to mask a LOT and it played a big part in her depression. she knows they had to stop themselves from stimming when she was a heather, she had been the weird kid in middle school but now that chandler took her under her wing, she has to pretend to be NT in order to stay in the lifeboat (😭)

• she's a lesbian!! of course she is

• she knows it since she is in middle school and has been """gal pals"""" with chandler since them but she still struggles with it she has comphet yk, but still less than chandler

• chanamara definitely practiced kissing together "to be ready when we'll have to kiss boys" 👀👀👀

• chandler always had a soft spot for mac and tried to hide it by being cruel to duke

• post musical: it took mac some time to understand that duke had nothing against her personally. she was chill with them until chandler died. from that moment she had to prove herself as the new queen bee and mac was a collateral victim

• duke definetely gave her trauma though and mac is in the process of trusting her again

• mac themselves is not a cinnamon roll just yet and she still has to make up for what they've done to others

• mcnamara has nicknames like mcNcheese or macaroni (veronica came up with those)

• they're also a vegetarian and she loves yellow food

• like she ever only eats yellow food actually (autistic thing). that girl is deficient! part of why she looks that fragile and thin

• also i see mcnamara as mixed race with golden/light brown skin and they have this type of curly curly hair but she straightens it all the time so it's only just wavy (once again, to blend in with the heathers)

• her natural hair colour is actually a dark strawberry blonde? her dad is irish and he's a redhead that's why (stole this from @cam-eats-candles hehe) but she dyes it so it's lighter

• post musical: she starts wearing her natural hair!! and goes with her mom to the afro hairdresser to start to get her curls done right (cornrows mac!!)

• their parents divorced (movie) and it's for the best. mac has daddy issues and only goes to her dad to get cute jewellery for their girlfriends 💖 (he doesn't just sell engagement rings. a lot of regular expensive rings, really)

• she's not a baby, she's not weak nor completely innocent and pure!! the girl is a head cheerleader, she's strong and flexible as hell.

Heather Chandler

• heather chandler is Also a lesbian BUT she is on the ace spectrum like demisexual? so yeah she's double disgusted when she "sleeps" with men

• as a queen bee she's also convinced that the only way to exist is through male validation :(

• chandler is taller than duke and veronica but shorter than mac

• chandler's skin is like rosy and it freckles very easily. i see her with the same cloudylike hair she has in the movie, dark blonde, with the red scrunchie only holding back some of her hair

• she is Buff and is genuinely into sports (lesbian jock like regina george)

• she has a sharp hourglass shape her shoulders are broad and her legs long and strong. she could lift veronica against a wall easily. and she did

Veronica Sawyer

• ADHD!! she's been diagnosed for a while but only became medicated post musical

• bisexual!! so bisexual!! without a preference. she's always been open and proud about it and her parents are supportive

• for me veronica is brown, with thick and dark hair and dark brown eyes, midsize, average height

Martha Dunnstock

• that's canon i know, but she's fat, and not the socially acceptable-hourglass kind of fat. big arms! big tummy! double chin! (i see fanart of her just being chubby quite often and it's ANNOYING like that's a big part of her character)

• she's perfectly healthy like this as are many fat people :))

• i also like the hc that her attempt at sewer slide made her permanently disabled and that she keeps using a wheelchair! because it happens, it's important to show it, and it gives me a lot of ideas for cute kindergarten girlfriends prompts 💓💓

• of course realistically being fat AND physically disabled in the 80's was and is not an easy thing to go through but it's in my head so

• she's also a tiny bit taller than veronica

• i don't hate the outfit she wears in the off broadway show, but I like her west end outfit better!! it's a lot more 80's inspired and i totally see her in kidcore/clowncore etc, even if pastels are cool too

• in the current west end version, martha is played by a black woman and she looks amazing! however I've been drawing and imagining martha as east/south east asian, for no reason really?? also idk kinda rubs me the wrong way that in the more official versions of heathers it's always duke that is black, or martha? not the others? hmm

• i'm not comfortable with hcs that exclusively babyfy her or patronise her like a bunny rabbit just bc she's a fat outcast who likes unicorns!! she's not just cute and giggly! martha can and does swear and she Fucks, like mcnamara

• big round glasses + big nose + long brown hair

• taking inspiration from the princess bride line but she's a huge movie nerd. yes she loves happy endings but she also loves horror movies, as long as they have a happy ending

• she never gets a makeover omg y'all just hate people with glasses and a childish aesthetic istg

• she takes this aesthetic further though and

• post musical and high school: she doesn't just wear baggy clothes anymore as she only did that to prevent more bullying. she develops an unique style with a lot of pink and glitter and she's awesome

------

ok this is getting long ill probably do more!! tell me what you think <3

[monstersandmaw]

you work with chainmaille!?? that’s awesome! i’ve been trying to get better at it myself, but it’s a slow process. what supplier do you use? how long have you been doing it for?

feel free to ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable, i just get excited when i see someone else who has the same hobby as me since it’s a rare one in my area.

I’ve been making mail (mostly jewellery) for about six years now? On and off, anyway. It is a slow process for sure!

I’m UK-based, so I use Beadsisters, who’s basically the only major supplier, though I do know of others. I believe they themselves are supplied by The Ring Lord, who are one of the biggest suppliers in the US. For silver (and gold fill if necessary) I coil and cut the rings myself. Not worth it for aluminium, stainless steel, titanium or niobium (at least in the quantities I’ve used) but heckin worth it for precious metals. If you want to know of suppliers that I’ve heard of or used, I do know of a good few places for kits and stuff, which I found the most helpful in progressing. Steampunk Garage on Etsy has some super cool kits, as do CreatingUnkamen. There’s a massive Facebook group for maillers, but I’m not on Facebook now so I can’t remember what it’s called (it’s the one with thousands of people in though), and the maille artisans website has saved by butt a number of times when I wanted to know what I can do with the rings I have. Their AR search is a godsend and the tutorials are largely pretty good. Plus they’re free...

Sorry if all that was old news to you! I don’t make as much as I used to, sadly, but I have recently got out some super tiny rings to start playing around again.

Here’s some of my other work if you or anyone else is interested. I screenshotted them (my brain wanted to say ‘screen-shat’ and I nearly fell of my chair cackling at that. Sorry) from my Instagram.

[flufflepuffle296]

“Chloe xxx”

I really want Chloé to get another redemption arc, but not because she wants to be Queen Bee again or prove herself to anyone-but because she wants to prove to herself that she can be as awesome as she wants. Also sorry but I rambled here.

I don’t even want it to start because of something big like being rejected or glares from classmates, it could just be she’s chilling in her room and she notices her butler flinching when she calls his name, or she’s watching a show and she wants to be just as cool as the main character, or even just looking around the class and just thinking “why not?”

She then starts calling her butler’s name a little sweeter, takes Sabrina out for coffee at her favourite café this time, pushes Alya’s bag towards her when it falls off the bench. She anonymously donates money to varying charities and doesn’t tell anyone about it. She feels warm when she does it-she doesn’t know why but it almost feels kind of nice. She begins working a shift or two here and there at the hotel. She smiles at Mylene when she walks in (even if she considers that outfit a crime against fashion), and returns pens when she borrows them. Nino loses a USB and Chloé helps in the search party for it (though does it secretly at break and lunch).

Becoming nice to Marinette is harder though. She decides however, that if she wants to be an ok person, she has to give everyone a chance, so buys a yard or two of a nice fabric the girl’s been eyeing for weeks, and posts it with a note signed “-C xxx”. It kind of feels a little nice when Marinette walks in in a pale pink beaded dress that isn’t totally horrible Chloé supposes.

She later realises that saying sorry is another thing she can do to become a better person, and she always kind of wanted to but was too prideful to do so-but no more! She apologises to butler Jean, saying that she’s sorry for screaming at him, firing him, everything.

She then apologises to Sabrina, for treating her as a slave and asking if she wanted to go to that film she’s been rambling about, since they always go for her choice. She also takes all of her homework back that Sabrina was doing for her, and starts working really hard on it.

She goes to the bakery later that week, and orders a large slice of cake, reasoning that she can’t be nice to others if she’s not being nice to herself, therefore she needs this chocolate cake. She then asks Sabine if she can go up to talk to Marinette, who is rather skeptical of her and only allows her in the dining room. She apologises for bullying her all those years, and hands her an envelope signed “-C xxx”. Marinette opens it, to find it full of cash that’s tied in small bundles with labels on.

“Homework soaked-age 7” €3

“Sketchbook ruined-age 10”. €18

“Teacher’s present destroyed-age 14”. €16

Everything she’s physically destroyed or ruined is accounted for and compensated. She then apologises for all the verbal abuse and mean comments, before asking for a truce. Marinette accepts, and points out that since they have a truce, she is obliged to inform Chloé that she has buttercream on her face.

A week later she gets all her homework back: B+, B, A-, B-, A+.

Not her usual report of full marks, but she’ll take it.

She starts working every night at the hotel, from 6pm till 10pm. She refuses to look it though-she is Chloé Bourgeois after all. Her uniform is spotless, her makeup is now impeccable (blue eyeshadow with pale lips? What was she thinking?), and she never has a hair out of place. She begins living on coffee-these grades aren’t going to raise themselves after all -and constantly has an energy drink in her bottle (not that the class is allowed to know that).

Grades: B+, A-, A, B, A+

Getting better...

Once in class, Rose slammed her head on the table (delicately? She somehow slammed her head DELICATELY?), and weeped that she didn’t understand the material. Chloé scribbled an explanation on a sheet of paper, and after class slipped it in Rose’s bag.

The next day, an akuma strikes near the school. They can’t leave because some kids live far away, and Bustier isn’t taking initiative and the class rep is no where to be found. Chloé bites her lip, before standing on the desk and clapping her hands. Once she has the class’ attention, she gives out instructions.

“KIM, IVAN! Grab heavy objects and block the doors. JULEKA, NINO, NATHANAEL! You can lock the windows since you’re the tallest. EVERYONE ELSE! Clear books away and any other things that could cause bruising if knocked over, put bags away, and hide under the desks and benches!”

Everyone stares at her.

“NOW!”

Everyone scrambled to their duties, before hiding under the desks, holding their heads like Chloé instructed.

Grades: A, A-, A+, B+, A+

Nearly there...

She informs her father that she’ll be leaving for a week next month, and tells Bustier and Damocles. She books a plane ticket to New York with her money from working, as well as a hotel room. She packs her bags and leaves, giving her dad a kiss and a hug beforehand and promising that she’ll be safe. She boards her plane and then hauls her bags up to her room, before making a call.

“Who is this?”

“Your daughter, Chloé.”

“I DON’T-oh you. Why have you called me I’m in the middle of working-shouldn’t you be at pre-K?”

“I’m 15 and French ma-but anyway, is it possible if you could promote Marinette’s website-MDC-in return I’ll work for you for free.”

“Oh yes Marinette-the exceptional one. How long will you work?”

“I’m only here a week-I’ll become your assistant even! I know you hate Stephanie.”

“...Fine. I’ll drop her into conversation at an interview if you’re only here a week. Now do not call me unless it’s an emergency. You start tomorrow-8am, sharp, in a fashionable outfit-or you’re fired.”

Chloé smiles as the line goes dead. Her mother may be a dragon, but Chloé can respect that she helps those she cares about.

Even if it isn’t her...

The next day she arrives at the office at 7:45, in a white suit with gold jewellery. Audrey nods, before sending her out with rapid instructions for coffee. Chloé takes her order to the café she requested, and starts reading it out to the barister, only for him to pale and interrupt her halfway through.

“Oh God-you’re ordering for Audrey aren’t you? Oh Lord-HEY AARON! STYLE QUEEN ORDER NO. 37! QUICK!”

The other worker, Aaron, goes white, before flipping every machine on and opening every can he can find in preparation.

“You must be her new assistant-good luck with her, the last one would come in to order her coffee and then sit in the corner and cry so much we set up her own space-look!” The first one says, pointing out to a comfy area of bean bags and pillows.

Chloé cringed. “Nah, worse. I’m her daughter, if you can even call me that, that’s interning for her in exchange for a favour.”

The barister pitied her. “Yikes.”

Chloé takes the coffee being thrusted at her and nods at the two, before sprinting back to the office.

After that week of hell, she still refuses to wear anything other than heels and designer clothes, and her hotel room is immaculate. She packs the night before, and sets off back to Paris in the morning.

MDC takes off after the Style Queen reccommended it briefly in an interview, and Chloé starts helping Marinette manage and organise commission dates and social media, eventually becoming her PR person/caffeination.

She starts working not only her 6pm-10pm shifts, but also a few shifts from 4am-7am a few times a week. She does her homework at lunch and as soon as she gets back from school, even doing it during akuma attacks. She gets through a concealer a week for her bags, and sleeps all weekend.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+.

Perfect.

...Or not...

She realises that she can’t maintain this. She can’t survive on 3 hours sleep and an unholy amount of caffeine. She cuts back on her shifts, doing 4 a week at most, and only does homework for a maximum of 2 hours a day. She starts, meditation and yoga, trying to keep her mind peaceful. She still donates to charities, and goes out with Sabrina and shops.

Grades: A, A, A, A, A.

Still pretty good, and she’s happy this time!

She begins doing things more for herself. She’s always wanted to learn Spanish after all. She hires a tutor, and starts working extremely hard to become as fluent as possible by the end of her education.

She learns conversational Spanish in about 6 months of semi-intensive learning, and decides to do something else as well. She starts learning Mandarin with Marinette, and struggles slightly more than she did with Spanish, but she’s still progressing.

She realises that she has a knack for learning languages, and picks more up more easily after she starts learning Spanish, Mandarin and later Portuguese.

One day when she’s out she comes across a homeless man, and offers him some money and brings him a hot meal. She sees others around him in the same situation, and does the same for them.

She then volunteers at the local soup kitchen, feeding hundreds of people on weekends and washing up afterwards. She connects with the homeless and a few refugees, and starts learning Arabic from one of the regulars, in return slipping her a few Euros (basically she gives her €250 every week).

She takes a shift at the bakery, manning the counter and becoming fast friends with Marinette as they practise their Mandarin on one another.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+

AND SHE’S HAPPY!!!

She eventually starts applying for universities, listing her abilities and experiences.

• A+ Student

• Volunteer

• Interned for Audrey Bourgeois

• Works at Boulangerie Patisserie

• Works at Le Grand Paris

• Fluent in Spanish, English and Mandarin, knows conversational Arabic and Portuguese, learning Polish.

The more she writes and thinks about the past 4 years, the more she comes to the realisation of

“Holy shit, I’m awesome. I’m an ok person. I’m a good person in fact. I’ve done good things. I’ve made a good impact on society. I did it. I DID IT!!! And I’m going to keep doing it-after all, I’m awesome and people rely on me, plus it makes me feel good. I’m no longer a spoilt 14 year old. I can be good. I am good. I am a good person.”

[bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love]

Hey there😁

I heard you were feeling sad after dealing with some stupid hate anons...I think you are an awesome writer🤗🤗 Whenever I open Tumblr, I always look forward to your content to cheer up my day. When I joined Tumblr, I used to be in a generally chaotic mental state when your blog was recommended to me. After that I'd always look forward to you...I'd always know after I had a shitty day that you'd have written something & I could just go binge ur content because seriously, I think if anyone wanted quality Shiggy stuff, you are THE #1 BLOG to go to.

I may not know how to write fics or anything well since I get writers block if I try or my vocabulary isn't as good...But you inspire me every time you write anything..I see you as a goldmine of new ideas & you bring a smile to my face❤❤❤ Even though I don't write anything, I have reblogged a lot of your work, and even as I have very few followers since I'm relatively new to this community, I like to think it counts. People get exposure to your blog & it honestly makes me happier when you get more followers bc you deserve it💐

I'm sorry there are some people who spread hate to you...they may have never written a proper paragraph in their life bt they'd come complaining at your door for a tiny thing that might've irked them about ur content. My suggestion is, since you're not feeling up to writing...Take a break for a few weeks, do the things you love, learn something new! I've recently started learning to make wire jewellery with beads & in the future I plan on learning how to make a dress for myself😁😁

Reach out to friends, you can even text me or rant about anything if you felt like you couldn't talk abt something to a friend...Eat something you love, watch your fav tv shows, stay hydrated...don't force yourself to be productive on bad days, just do the bare minimum or whatever you can manage, that's how you can be kind to yourself (as my therapist rightly says🙌🏻🙌🏻)😁❤

I hope you feel better bunny💖 remember Shiggy loves us all & he'd be heartbroken to see you hurt over some dumb NPC's😆😊

I hope my post made you feel at least a little better😊 sorry it turned out so long😅😅 we all love you, always remember that, you're irreplaceable❤❤ *head pats* Have a lovely week muffin!🐣🐣

Your a precious sweetheart and I love you. You called me bunny 🥺 we are now besties. Life has been killing me so it's like I'm getting it everywhere. I see others get so much praise and recommendations then i open my inbox to see horrible things. I'm also very sensitive I want people to like me. The time you took to write this makes me cry in happiness. Thank you so very much sweetie, you and me=friends. 😘🤗💗

[reddesertcolbs]

matching piercings // colby brock

requested: yes

summary: colby comes with you to get your nose pierced and he helps to comfort you during the process. 

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: some swear words, mention of needles and blood. 

my writing

//

“are you sure you don’t mind coming with me?” you ask your boyfriend, who is currently sitting in the passenger seat of your car, drumming along to the song that’s playing through the speakers on his knees. “because i totally understand if you’re busy and you don’t want to come.” you ramble, feeling your nerves start to settle in slightly, and because you feel mean for dragging colby along with you in case he had plans. 

“absolutely not, i wouldn’t be sitting next to you if i minded.” he says, turning to face you with a comforting smile and reaching over the middle console to grab your hand. once lacing his fingers with yours, he gives it a gentle squeeze. “besides, i can’t have my baby being all nervous without me, can i?” 

“urgh, you’re too cute, brock.” smiling, you lean over the middle console with pursed lips, begging for a kiss. within a second, he leans forward the rest of the way and presses his lips onto yours softly, humming in content before pulling away. 

you turn back around again, and slot your keys into the ignition of your car, beginning to make your way to the tattoo and piercing shop that is a ten minute drive from colby’s house, where you picked him up from. 

the drive to the piercing shop consists of colby singing badly to the songs that he’s playing from his playlist, that was playing out of his phone and he connected to your car prior to the drive, and him rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand to soothe your nerves as you drive, singing along to the tunes as well. 

your nerves begin to build rapidly, as you put your car into park and turn the ignition off, pulling the keys out and placing them on your lap as you turn towards colby with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. 

“you’ll be fine, love. it will be over in seconds, it doesn’t even hurt, it’s just like a pinch.” he says soothingly with a gentle smile, trying to help remove some of your nerves as you glance between the tattoo and piercing shop and his blue eyes, trying to distract yourself. “i’ll be there the whole time, holding your hand.” 

“let’s go before i end up not going in and driving back home.” you chuckle, causing colby to emit a loud giggle as well, giving your hand a quick squeeze before he’s releasing your hand from his and opening the door. 

after opening the door and stepping out, colby meets you by the driver’s side, and the two begin to stroll to the entrance of the shop. immediately, the two of you are met with the chime of a golden bell, tattoo machines buzzing from the variety of tattoo stations and the sound of music booming through the speakers. 

the two of you stand patiently in front of the desk, waiting to be served. colby can’t help but flick through the various tattoo drawing books, mentally picking out one for himself and asking your opinions of the designs that are sprawled across the pages. 

“how can i help you both?” the man, who you’re guessing is the piercer, behind the counter asks with a warm smile. 

“i’m here to get my nose pierced.” you respond, returning the warm smile even though your heart is thumping out of your chest with nervousness. colby can sense your nerves, as you begin to chew on your bottom lip again and play with your rings that are littered on your fingers, so he removes his that is flicking through the black book, and rests it on your lower back, rubbing softly. 

“yeah sure, we have a free space right now. you’ll have to sign some papers,” he begins, searching around the desk for the papers you need and a pen. “here you go, you can take a seat over there to fill them out. i’ll get the everything ready.” he points over to the black leather chairs, that are sitting against the window, still with a warm smile on his face, before wandering off down the corridor and into a room. 

the two of you walk towards the chairs, sitting down and begin flicking through the pages of consent forms. after two minutes of ticking and flicking, you turn to colby who is already looking at you with a smile. 

“i’m so nervous.” you whisper, not wanting the piercer to hear you, and because due to your nerves, your voice won’t go any higher without it shaking. 

“you’ll be fine baby. you got this.” he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him and planting a comforting kiss to your forehead, pulling away once the sound of shoes hitting the wood floors rings through his ears. 

“ready?” the piercer asks, making you stand up with a smile and a nod, once you hand him over the papers. he looks through them quickly, checking them over to make sure you can actually have the piercing, before putting the clipboard and pen back onto the desk. “you’re welcome to come in by the way.” he looks towards colby, who is still sitting on the chair, but he is sitting forward with his hands resting on his knees and his chin resting on his palm. “that’s if you want him to come in of course.” 

“yes please, if you don’t mind.” you smile sheepishly, glancing back to look at colby as he stands with a grin and a ‘thanks man’, before the two of you are led into a room where you would be getting pierced. 

once you walk in, your nerves sky rocket and you begin to twirl the rings on your fingers again when you take a seat on the cling film covered bench. colby takes a seat on the chair that is sitting next to the bench, and immediately grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand to help you relax. 

after talking through the process of piercing your nose, picking out the jewellery that is going to be placed into your nose, going with a simple diamond, and dotting the position that was going to get pierced, it was finally time to get the needle shoved through your nose, and to say you weren’t shitting yourself was an understatement.

“first we’re going to clamp it,” the piercer says, picking up metal clamps and positioning them onto your nose. “people say this is the worst part by the way.” he chuckles, trying to ease your nerves and it helps slightly. you watch him as he picks up the needle, and holds it up, getting ready to put it through your nose. 

“i’m going to need you to take a deep breath, and release it once the needle goes through, okay?” he asks, searching your face for any hesitation, but smiling softly at you when you mutter out a quick ‘got it’. your grip on colby’s hand tightens, as the piercer brings the needle to your nose. 

“okay, deep breath for me.” 

inhaling a deep breath through your nose, he shoves the needle through your nose quickly, and you release the breath as soon as you feel the needle move through. within a second, your eyes start to water, not out of pain but because of the reaction of the needle going through your nose. the pain wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be, yeah getting a needle shoved through your face hurt, but it was bearable. 

“that wasn’t bad at all.” you say with a grin, squeezing colby’s hand as he chuckles. 

“told you it wouldn’t be too bad.” colby responds, fascinated with the piercer’s every move, as he threads the diamond through your nose, pushing it down gently to make sure it’s fully in. 

“all done, you did good.” he says, cleaning around the fresh piercing to remove any blood that may have escaped the small hole. after cleaning your nose, he hands you a small hand held mirror so you can take a look, and immediately you lift it up to your face, inspecting your new piercing with a smile. 

after a few moments, the piercer discusses aftercare for your new piercing, and the two of you are led out of the piercing room again and back to the desk. you hand over the money to pay for your piercing, giving him a tip for his service, and a ‘thank you very much’, before you and colby are walking out of the shop and back towards your car, hand in hand. 

you stop at the driver’s side, removing your hand out of colby’s and circling them around his waist, pulling colby close to you. he loops his arms around your neck, careful not to knock your fresh piercing, and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving down to your lips. 

“you did awesome, love.” he mumbles against your lips, his lips brushing with yours as he pulls away to speak. “and you look hot.” he smirks, pressing another couple of kisses to your lips before leaning back up again. “not that you weren’t hot before, of course.” 

you roll your eyes playfully at him in response, as he let’s go of you, and begins to walk around the car towards the passenger’s seat. opening the door, he takes a seat, as you copy his actions, taking a seat in driver’s seat and buckling the belt across your chest.

“thank you for coming with me.” you turn to look at him with a smile, watching him as he messes about with the radio once you’ve turned on the ignition of the car

“it was no problem at all, my love.” he mimics your smile, reaching over to take your hand into his again and bringing it up to his lips, connecting them to the back of your hand and planting a kiss to it. “now we’re matching, baby.” he presses another kiss to your hand before looking at you with a smirk. “but i am jealous that you can pull it off better than me though.” 

request here

[jaskiersvalley]

I hate to be a bother, but I desperately need to see a mafia!au would you help a fella out? :3

Sometimes a prompt comes in and it gets ideas into motion. Before I know it, there’s a story clamouring to be written even though the ask is new. Nonnie, it’s your lucky day because a mafia!au has not left me alone since you sent this in. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it!

Times were hard and Geralt found his gang had to pull off more jobs that were more dangerous if they wanted to be able to eat. Part of the problem of being a motorcycle gang of three was that they had to be utterly self-reliant. While they had freedom of choice for jobs, somehow they had found themselves unable to turn down any job because they needed to live. Which was a problem when they accepted a job in an area that was known to be protected by the mob.

In a way, Geralt didn’t know which was worse. They had been caught red handed, police blocking their exit from the shop they’d been paid to target. Not ideal but it wasn’t like they hadn’t been caught before. All three of them had spent various amounts of time in jail before and would no doubt do it again. However, it was potentially worse when a woman in a sleek dress stepped out of a car that pulled up.

“Thank you, Filavandrel, we’ll take it from here.”

It was definitely worse when the police stepped aside. It meant that the mob had taken an issue with a shop in their territory being robbed. Fuck. The three of them were ushered into the car and Geralt growled when he was their bikes being loaded into a truck.

“They better be careful with Roach,” he warned even though he knew he had no power. The woman ignored him, looking over the three of them like they were something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

The building they pulled up in front of didn’t exactly fill Geralt with confidence. It was an old casino, long since shut down but the gaudy decorations had been carefully maintained. The woman led them up to the door and opened it, ushering them in.

“Try not to loot anything,” she said with a dry smile and closed the door behind her.

“What the fuck?” Eskel said as he looked around at the high ceilings, the decor, all still exactly like a casino would be. It took the three of them an embarrassingly long time to notice the man leaning against the wall, arms crossed and watching them. But as soon as they realised he was there, he was moving.

“Welcome!” He looked so cheery in bright clothes that looked both cheap and tacky yet good on him.

“What are you, the court jester?” Lambert smiled, sharp and dangerous.

“I can be,” came the easy reply. “I hear you were the clowns who got caught robbing a shop.”

The more they looked at the man, the more off putting things about him there were. The necklaces around his throat were the cheap plastic ‘gem’ kind. He looked like he dressed in a downmarket fancy dress shop and borrowed awful, cheap jewellery from his great aunt.

“Is this some weird jerkfest for the mob?” Eskel asked. “You’re the ringmaster, here to set us up for a night at the haunted casino. If we survive the night, the mob forgives us?”

That drew a laugh from the man, head tipped back. He dramatically wiped at his eyes. “Oh, that’s a good one. It might be something we should try though-” he turned and looked at the building, “-I quite like it being blood and gore free in here.”

He turned back and looked at the three bikers. “So, The Wolves of Kaer Morhen have fallen far. Geralt of Rivia, Lambert and Eskel. The mighty sure are the beggars now.”

That got their hackles up almost immediately. Whoever this was, he clearly knew more about them than was safe.

“And what should we call you?” Geralt asked.

“I go by many names. The Lark, The Bard, Julian, Viscount de Lettenhove. But I think you’ll be best knowing me as Jaskier.”

Silence engulfed the room and Geralt looked at the other two nervously. Jaskier was the head of the mafia. The one everybody feared and the one who held all the strings. Including at the police it would seem.

“Viscount de Lettenhove - no relation to Superintendent de Lettenhove perchance?”

Geralt’s question had Eskel murmuring. “Julian Alfred Pankratz - his long dead son.”

“Oh I did so enjoy my funeral,” Jaskier chirped with a wide smile. “Quite the gathering! Daddy dearest did such a wonderful job. He even let me wear a dress and introduced me as a distant aunt there to pay respect.”

“Awesome.” It was Lambert who laughed at that, tickled by the idea. “I wish Vesemir had let us do that.”

“Indeed.” Jaskier’s smile melted off his face dangerously quickly. “The question remains though, what am I going to do with you? You’ve been a bit of a headache for me recently, making messes and hurting people under my protection.”

If they had been in a better situation, Geralt would have offered up money and goods in exchange for their safety. Alas, they had nothing to bargain with. Well, Geralt had one thing.

“You can have me if you’ll let the other two go.”

The protests from Lambert and Eskel were silenced when Jaskier laughed.

“You value yourself incredibly highly if you think one of you is worth two others.”

“You’ve not seen what I can do,” Geralt countered.

“I don’t need to. I know all about you. If all three of you swear your allegiance, I can guarantee your safety and livelihoods for as long as you work for me.”

It wasn’t like the three could refuse. Grudgingly, they nodded and Jaskier looked smug as he held out a ring laden hand. Leaning forward, Geralt was appalled to realise the rings were edible, gummy ones. Hesitantly, he kissed one and straightened up, casting Eskel a look. Thankfully, Eskel didn’t let on he was just as stunned and Jaskier crooned at their obedience. That was ruined by Lambert who leaned down for a kiss and stood up chewing while Jaskier squealed.

“Oh you brute!”

“What?” Lambert shrugged. “I was hungry. Wait, you want it back?”

He spat the chewed gummy ring into his palm and offered it back to Jaskier who looked torn between disgust and admiration. Message received, Lambert tossed the ring back in his mouth, chewed a couple more times and swallowed. He frowned at Eskel who had stepped in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, he has the manners of a ravenous goat,” Eskel was saying, trying his best to shield Lambert from view.

Nobody expected Jaskier to sigh dramatically. “It’s worse than I had expected, if you’re this hungry. Sweethearts, you’re mine now, let me look after you.” Turning on his heels, Jaskier marched off and the three trailed after him. They were led through the casino to doors at the back which were flung open dramatically.

“The wolves are staying for dinner,” Jaskier announced to the room at large and a cheer went up. There was already a table with food and spaces all around for them to relax. Geralt looked to the other two, uncertain whether they could believe this or not. In the end, it didn’t matter because Jaskier himself was shoving plates at them and pulling them in to feast and settle into their new family.

[shiftynightshade]

Shoto tilted his head against the pillow of his futon and stared drowsily at the base of his dresser, boredom gently lapping at his consciousness. He briefly considered taking a nap, but that would most likely lead to Endeavour bursting into his room and leaving him in a shitty mood.

‘Guess I’ll go check the kitchen. Hopefully, I still have some cold soba left.’

With a huff Shoto dragged himself up from the floor, groaning when his back creaked in protest. “Nope- nope-nope-nope- todays is just not it.”

A few minutes later and Shoto finally stumbled into the kitchen, silently thanking every god that Fuyumi or Endeavour weren’t in the room. Grasping the handle to the fridge Shoto pulled the door open smiling when the cold soba was still on the shelf he left it the previous night.

Grabbing the bowl and kicking the fridge door shut, Shoto clutched the bowl and took his first bite of the noodles, humming in delight at the taste. He walked out the doorway and into the living room. A small shine caught his eye though.

Shoto raised an eyebrow and walked over to the bench, eyes widening when he saw exactly what the shine was.

‘No way…’

Placing his half-eaten soba down Shoto grabbed the slim rectangle and felt a smirk grow across his face. ‘Let us have some fun now, shall we?’

* * * *

Their phones all pinged at once, a photo from Todoroki was accompanied by a single message. Ochako's eyes sparkled as the image of Shoto with a devious smirk spread across his face, eyes full of life and ready to wreak havoc.

And in between his index and middle fingers?

Endeavour’s Platinum Card. Ochako tilted her head and stared at the message that was across the photo.

“It’s Either Murder Or Vandalism, Take Your Pick” – Tenya Iida

I Tried To Fight a Cop In Hospital Slippers: lets go fuckers, we’re going shopping!

I Suplexed A Feral Pomeranian But I’m Still Broke As Fuck: holy hsit yes please

I’m Coming For Kacchan’s Arms And Legs: dude lets go and buy as much shit as possible

I Fist Fought Stain In A Back Alley And Got Stabbed Multiple Times In Response: Shoto…

I Say What’s On My Mind And I Drown Perverts: Come on Tenya just this once?

I Suplexed A Feral Pomeranian But I’m Still Broke As Fuck: CMON TEN-CHAN ITLL BE AWESOME

I Fist Fought Stain In A Back Alley And Got Stabbed Multiple Times In Response: I wasn’t gonna argue actually, I ONLY HAVE ONE RULE THOUGH

I Tried To Fight a Cop In Hospital Slippers: fine whats the rule

I Fist Fought Stain In A Back Alley And Got Stabbed Multiple Times In Response: we have to max the card

I’m Coming For Kacchan’s Arms And Legs: jhdwfehj SWEEET

I’m Coming For Kacchan’s Arms And Legs: meet you guys there then?

I Say What’s On My Mind And I Drown Perverts: meet you all there

The next few hours were the best Shoto’s had in a long time.

They had passed a hero merch store and Shoto saw how Izuku’s eyes had shone, so he grabbed All Might’s secret love child and dragged him into the shop, handed him the card and said “Go crazy ‘Zuku.”

The rest of them had wandered in five minutes later, Ochako grabbing a Gunhead keychain and a 13 plushie, giggling when Tsu walked up with an enamel pin of a silver gun. Ten minutes later and they finally left the shop, Tenya shaking his head with a smile as Ochako manhandled their shopping bags from the rest of them with little effort.

(And if they giggled at the group of teenagers of various genders staring at her with blushes on their faces as they stared at her biceps? Well, they kept that to themselves.)

Shoto and Ochako had walked into the home deco store and had stopped and stared. The two shared a look and dashed into the store, throwing waves over their shoulders as Tenya yelled out, “We’ll be at the café!”

Ochako and Shoto ended up spending nearly over an hour in there, easily racking up all of their purchases a hundred and twenty-five thousand, one hundred and eleven yen each for all of their decorations. Shopping in hand they stumbled over to the café table, shrugging when Shinsou levelled them with an incredulous look. Hatsume didn’t look fazed in the slightest, instead smirking at them from where she was sipping her drink next to Tenya.

Tenya smiled. “We found these two wandering around earlier, so we kind of just… grabbed them?”

Shoto blinked. “Really?”

Hatsume laughed. “Hey, two things.”

She smirked. “One, I need new stuff that Power Loader Sensei won’t supply, sooo Ten-Ten over here said that Endeavour’s Platinum Card in paying,” Hatsume shrugged. “and honestly, anything to piss him off.”

They slid into their seats, Ochako looking over to the purple-haired male. “What about you Shinsou-Kun?”

Shinsou shrugged. “Hey, I don’t like Endeavour, he has some pretty… interesting choices of words to say about quirks like mine.”

Shoto tilted his head. “Understandable.” He said.

They had put drinks aside for them, which had been received with smiles of thanks.

Shoto sipped at his drink, smiling as he stood to throw the cup away, snatching Izuku’s empty cup while he was distracted, and smirking when he squawked in indignation.

Tsu stood and stretched. “We better get going if we want to get back in time.”

Izuku smiled. “Or,” He said, eyes twinkling. “We can go and crash at Tenya’s house for a bit.”

Tenya shrugged. “I’d have to double-check, but my parents love you so I’m pretty sure that they won’t object.” He turned to the new additions to their rag-tag group. “You two are more than welcome to join!”

Hatsume nodded while Shinsou shrugged.

Tenya hummed. “Are there any jewellery stores near-bye?”

Shinsou raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need to know?”

Tenya gave a lazy shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I want to see if I can get any more studs.” Hatsume whistled. “Wow didn’t take 1-A’s class prez to be the kind to have piercings.”

Izuku smiled. “Can I pick out a colour this time?” Tenya extended a hand. “Sure, lead the way!”

* * * * *

It only took them a solid five minutes to find Tenya a few new studs, which included a silver stud with a deep blue Cubic zirconia gem which shone in the light, a similar stud but with gold and a red gem, and a simple silver and white gem that gleamed.

With a numerous amount of puppy eyes, Tenya caved and picked out the gold and red stud, turning to borrow the mirror on the far wall. When he turned back around the stud was nestled comfortably on the right side of his nose, the other studs packed away into a small box.

“Lookin’ good Ten-chan,” Ochako smirked. Tenya merely smiled.

Time passed by quickly after that, they bought a few more things, but the mall had begun to close, so they finally left, all seven of them making their way to Tenya’s house.

When they walked into class the next week after the holiday half of their classmates had double-takes when they saw Tenya’s nose piercing, the blue and silver stud, which had been switched in, was glittering in the morning light, made them laugh.

And if they offered to buy stuff for their classmates (bar Mineta, due to his suspension) well, it was their little secret.

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 137

SUMMARY: When new intel comes to light about the mole Frank Wolverton-Randall, Fergus is buoyed by what he discovers. He goes to Madeline’s Office where Section’s leaders are waiting for him, with a progress report and tells Operations and Madeline of his findings and they are gobsmacked to know the identity of the mole in Section. They reflect on their dealings with Frank in order to make sense of his hatred for them as well.

WOO! HOO!  I missed my 2 year Anniversary of posting this story at the end of July (Chapter 135(S) ) so I just wanted to give a shout out to all who have at one time or another … ever read one, or more, or all of my chapters over this time, left kudos, a like, a comment, reblogged the chapters or contacted me via a DM.  THANK YOU ALL … SO MUCH.  Much love to each and every one my readers YAY!

Chapter 136 (S-NSFW) and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations  Sorry to say I am not on Ao3, but perhaps when I finish this story I will try and navigate how it works and how to post there.  

CHAPTER 137

 During the week Fergus Claudel was busy, as usual, at his computer collating any last-minute details in his report for Operations and Madeline about the mole. He wanted to make sure that he had all his t’s crossed and his i’s dotted before he presented the intel to his leaders. He’d been exhausted when he’d eventually left Comm. last night, but he’d certainly slept well knowing that what he had to show his superiors today would be most pleasing to them. Hopefully the Intel would also help reverse his pal’s fiancée’s evaluation status. He was totally convinced that his data would be just what Operations and Madeline were looking for.  Absorbed in his task he was unaware that Murtagh Fitzgibbons had walked up behind him. The first indication that he realised that he was not alone was the sound of something being dropped onto his desk and a familiar voice saying, “Open it.”  After the initial shock of being crept up on registered in his brain, Fergus looked down at his desk and saw a hard, plastic case containing a computer disk. He picked it up and immediately his eyes lit up when he realized what he held in his hands. The computer geek couldn’t contain his excitement.

“No! … No way!” he exclaimed in shock and excitement. “Yes,” Murtagh replied very pleased that at his buddy’s reaction. Fergus was chuffed at the gift as if his best mate had given him the most precious of items on the top of his wish list. “Oh ... this is awesome!” The older operative was delighted at his friend’s reaction to his surprise gift. “First off the line ... and you can retrain the display ... as much as you want without losing data.”  “Oh, wow! Thanks,” Fergus replied unable to stop looking at the gift his buddy had given him.  “No ... no, thank you,” Murtagh answered back thinking that it was the least he could do to repay his friend for all the help he had given him. “For what?” Fergus asked realising that no favour he might have done warranted such an awesome gift of thanks. “For Bóinne. Things went great on our date. I also saw this little black cat jewellery box and I knew she’d love it. I couldn't have done it without you amigo.”  Suddenly, Murtagh stopped talking and looked behind him when he heard light footsteps and saw the woman, they were discussing approaching.

“Speak of the devil's mistress.”  The Med Lab nurse watched the two friends deep in conversation and saw the look on her fiancé’s face which told her that he’d asked Fergus to do something for him. Bóinne could tell by his expressions as Murtagh was an open book for her. She gave him a warm smile and finally came closer.

“There you are honey.” His eyes crinkled in delight at seeing her. “Hi.”  Severing their gaze, Bóinne then looked down and smiled at his friend. “Hello Fergus.”  He was a little surprised at her attempt to be so nice to him. “What's up?”  “Nothing ..., I just stopped by to say hi … and to tell you what a great time we had the other night.”  “That’s fantastic.” “Oh, and by the way, I also found this in Med Lab,” Bóinne said handing him a small contraption in a plastic bag. “I was wearing surgical gloves when I discovered it, so I haven’t contaminated it Fergus. Murtagh thought it might be important for you to check out.”  Fergus’ brows knitted somewhat when he saw the tiny device she held out in the palm of her hand. He looked at the device then back up at her, “Where did you find this?” “I was preparing one of the beds for a new patient and found it under the gurney in ICU.” “Where Jamie was?” Fergus asked nonchalantly, not wanting to raise any undue concerns.  “Yes, it was actually. Why?” “Oh nothing … I’ll check it out and see if it’s anything significant. Did you find any others?” “No … that was the only one.” “Thanks I’ll look into it.” Fergus declared.

He was not at all surprised that he had failed to locate the device when he’d done a sweep.  It was small and would have been hard to detect. Obviously Bóinne had smaller hands and perhaps it had dislodged when the bed had been remade or was hidden under the mattress, he thought. Anyway it could be another piece of the puzzle about the mole and if Frank Wolverton-Randall had placed it there then this would be significant if he could find something on the device that would incriminate him. As they were talking, Murtagh happened to look up past Bóinne and saw Operations approaching their way, so he brought the conversation to a swift end whispering to Fergus, “Okay. I’ll see you later. We have a whole day of downtime.”  “All right. I really have to finalise my report for Operations and Madeline. See ya.” The two operatives quickly slipped away not wanting to confront their superior especially when they had better things to do on their day off.  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fergus was busily watching the departing couple and didn’t realize that Dougal Mackenzie had walked up to his station and had joined him at his desk. He was a little startled that Section’s leader had approached his station at this time, especially when he was to report to Madeline’s office shortly. He was also a little miffed too that he’d been caught unprepared for his briefing because Murtagh and Bóinne had taken up his time and he hadn’t realised that he was indeed late for the meeting.  “Fergus … Madeline is expecting you. What is the hold up?” “Nothing sir. I was just collating any final points for the briefing. I didn’t want to miss anything,” he nervously replied. “And I was just handed something that I must check out as well. It might be an important piece of the puzzle about the mole.” “I see … very well. I’ll inform Madeline that you’ll be another thirty minutes.” “Thank you sir.” “Bring all your data to her office as soon as you can then. We’ll be interested to hear your report.” However, the other reason Operations was there was that he needed Fergus to pull up a different assignment that was imminent, “But first I want you to upgrade another Mission ... the one we're running in Somalia.”  “I'll pull the file.”  Swinging his chair around, Fergus accessed the information from another computer. Operations then started to give him a quick sketch of what he wanted done. “The Profile calls for an Abeyance Medical Team of five to infiltrate a terrorist compound where insurgents are wounded to gauge the Intel we require on the health of their leader. The Primary Team will carry out the Mission to destroy their headquarters and all medical facilities if he is found to not be there. Send the Abeyance Ops to Murtagh to get their inventory when he returns from his downtime.”  “What's the survival likelihood of the Abeyance Team?”  Operations gave their IT specialist a “that's a silly question” look, before answering. “Zero.”  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Once Section’s leader had left his station, Fergus Claudel was left with a problem. Bóinne Rivière’s standing would automatically place her in the Somalia mission. He pulled up her profile and stared at the abeyance standing flashing on the screen. He couldn’t send Murtagh’s fiancée to her death on this mission. Not now … not when his friend was so happy. He had to do something. Making a decision that he hoped would give him enough time to find a way to repeal her termination ranking, Fergus speedily changed her status to the highest level of eight then quickly exited her Profile.  He then took the small device she had given him and ran it through his system. To his delighted surprise it came up trumps. “BINGO!” he exclaimed. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Gathering up his evidence, Fergus Claudel made his way to Madeline’s office where he knew that Section’s leaders would be waiting for him with his Intel and a progress report. With a strong belief that the information he’d found and especially from the device so unreservedly given to him without fear of any consequences, he just might also have enough information to change Operations and Madeline’s minds about sending Bóinne Rivière on the Somalia mission. Fergus hoped that what he’d found would please them about the mole in Section and give him some leverage to place a case for the Med Lab nurse’s reclassification and change their minds about her abeyance mission. He had a slim chance but he had to try for Murtagh’s sake. Last night he’d combed the whole system trying to find a connection to any of the operatives in Med Lab and any associated with Jamie and Claire over the past few weeks of the Rising Dragons’ mission. The fact that he’d been able to find anything or anyone who had passed the Intel to Colum and how, was a miracle. Frank Wolverton-Randall had certainly hidden his tampering extremely well and had gone to great pains to cover his tracks, but Fergus had managed to find the link and what Bóinne had given him would certainly be the final nail in his coffin. Putting all the pieces of the puzzle together had not been easy but it was a good thing that he had, because Operations and Madeline were both vulnerable if Intel keep leaking to Oversight. It seemed strange to Fergus that Colum would be keeping tabs on procedures in Section One when he had been debriefed on several occasions, however with a little further digging he’d come to establish a reason why he’d enlisted Frank’s expertise in doing so and it appeared to be personal. Oversight was the board and the only entity Operations had to answer to. It was all tied up in the Rising Dragons’ mission and Oversight’s perception as to how expediently Section was dealing with the triad. It was well known that Colum and Operations were rivals and there was little love lost between the two adversaries. Perhaps Colum was displeased that things were not moving as fast as he had hoped, but then again in his search Fergus had also stumbled across a communiqué from Colum to Mr Lambert which was very revealing as to his motives.  Fergus knew that Operations and Madeline would be pleased with what he’d found. He had managed to solve the conundrum of the mole in Section … the ghost mole actually … as the person responsible was not physically present but had still managed to pass on Intel surreptitiously despite being transferred to another substation.  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ An apprehensive Fergus Claudel stood on the threshold of Madeline's office with the information firmly in his grasp. She was talking to Operations who was there as well, but when they saw him, they motioned for him to enter.  “So Mr Claudel I trust that you bring us good news.” “I’ve made some progress sir.” “Excellent.” “We’re listening,” Section’s leader stated pricking up his ears in the hope that the mystery would finally be solved. “Please inform us to your findings. What did you discover?” Madeline instructed leaning on her desk. Although he was a little nervous, Fergus began his briefing to his superiors on his results and gave them a status report on his findings. “I ran an inventory of all the possible people who may have been involved as a possible mole in passing Intel to Colum at Oversight and I checked out all the people on your list as well.”  “And?” “Zero … Dr Foster and Bóinne Rivière came up clean and although both had tremendous access to Med Lab, there is nothing to indicate that they were involved.” “Hayes and Lesley?” “Likewise.” “So you’re telling us that all of them came up clean?” “Yes sir… I was also unable to find any surveillance cameras or listening devices in Med Lab.”  “I thought you said you had something for us Claudel … this is not what I hoped you would find.” Before they could protest some more, Fergus continued, “But … I have now come into the possession a small mechanism that was discovered in Med Lab by nurse Bóinne Rivière.  I have just run it through the system. It confirmed my suspicions and gives us concrete evidence of the perpetrator. Without her finding the device I only had my gut feeling and supposition to go on. She was invaluable and is, I believe, totally innocent and loyal to the Section or else she would have disposed of the device instead of handing it over to me,” he added glowingly for extra clarification. Operations heard his statement about Bóinne Rivière but chose not to respond to it, instead he stated, “Go on.” “It was a sophisticated, minute listening device that was attached to James Fraser’s bed in ICU. I ran a fingerprint on it and I found something very interesting.” “Get to the point Fergus.” “I said I’d found no one suspicious but … there is one exception. The fingerprint showed up a match. I narrowed it down to one prime suspect.” That information whetted their appetite. Operations was all ears. “Who?” “A person in another substation but no longer in Section.” “Cut to the chase Fergus … who is it?” Section’s leader insisted as if he had little time for the mundane facts he’d given them already. He wanted something concrete … and he wanted it now!  “Frank Wolverton-Randall,” Fergus blurted out. “Who?” Operations exclaimed incredulously but it made sense given their history and how he’d transferred him away from Systems and Fergus. “Frank Wolverton-Randall,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first time,” his superior barked turning to face Madeline with anger in his eyes.

This was certainly a surprise. Madeline took a seat behind her desk thinking that Wolverton-Randall had had little contact with medical or the Rising Dragons mission that they knew of since he’d been transferred to another sector just after Jamie and Claire arrived back from the retrieval Mission. Operations looked at his second in command. “Didn’t Colum specifically ask for Frank to be transferred?” “He did … and we were only too glad to see the back of him. Do you remember?” Madeline added. “Yes … I do.” Operations stated with disdain. He was livid at the underhand tactics Colum had used. He realised that his brother must have planned this all along and was just waiting for his chance to discredit them by using Frank as his mole especially given his knowledge of Section.  Fergus waited and listened to the exchange between the two leaders before continuing with his findings. “I raked the system, all of it and I cross-correlated every piece of data on Wolverton-Randall I could find. Once I was able to solve the deeply hidden channel code that I discovered, it all made sense that he was the person responsible.” “How is that possible when he is no longer in Section but at our substation?” “I believe he did have time to set this scam up before he was transferred. He was my main focus because he is the only person who could manage to infiltrate sensitive files about operatives and then pass this Intel on to Colum.” “But why him? Why Frank Wolverton-Randall? Did he approach Colum or he was approached?” Ever pragmatic Madeline gave Operations the answer. “Several reasons Dougal. Think about it … Frank has a number of personal motives for being Colum’s mole and he had the expertise to pull off such a coup. He has the computer knowledge on the same scale as Fergus and he has ulterior reasons to find your brother’s proposition advantageous to seek retribution against us.”

“Hmmm,” he mumbled.

“Not only that, but Colum knew that Frank had animosity towards you and I.  He made a bargain with the devil for sure with both parties benefiting from this collaboration. It would be a win-win for your brother too if he could discredit us but you in particular Dougal.  He has always had an axe to grind over Letitia’s unexplained disappearance and I would suggest that he blames you for that. After all you did take over Section One when no trace of her was found.”

Dougal Mackenzie took stock of what his second in command had stated and what Madeline said made sense. They now had to come up with a plan to put a stop to it. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank Wolverton-Randall was the mole! Fergus’ information raised a number of plausible scenarios in Madeline and Operations’ mind as to why the operative had done what he’d done, and they both in their own way, reflected on what would also provide motives for his deception.

Operations recalled the circumstances under which they’d dealt with Frank when he’d been recruited at such an early age. It was a catch twenty-two situation. Wolverton-Randall was young but he was smart and Section One needed him, however, it was his stupidity and the invincibility of youth that had been his downfall. It was obvious that Frank would have a personal vendetta against him for being brought into Section One. The young man’s rebelliousness and seditious attitude because he was incarcerated away from his mother and father would be legitimate grounds for him to have a special grudge against them as well. 

Section’s leader remembered their conversation as if it had happened only yesterday.  

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“Hey, go to Hell! Where am I exactly? Stupid City? I want to talk to the man in charge!”  "I am the man in charge."  With the irreverence of youth Frank’s reply to him had been derisive and sarcastic. "You couldn't be in charge of my crotch." It had taken less than a minute for the young upstart to get the better him, a man who had kept his cool under the most trying conditions. He realised then and there that he would be a thorn in their side but they needed him and that was that. He didn’t have to like the lad. He saw nothing funny about their teenaged guest. Frank Wolverton-Randall was dismissive, cocky and was not afraid when he was brought to his office. His disregard for authority was apparent and he saw everything as a challenge regardless of the consequences. His body language showed that he didn’t fear or feel threatened by the leader of Section One which totally ticked him off. The thought that he could make almost every captured target and operative in Section shake in fear, but couldn’t faze a teenager was galling. He’d taken great delight in telling the youth that he would not be leaving Section. But in his inimitable way the lad was unimpressed. “Unfortunately ..., this place cannot tolerate mistakes. You've seen that.”  “Spare me the lecture, Old Folks. Are you going to let me go or not?”  “No, we're not.”  He’d smiled realising that he had the upper hand over the teenager that was until Frank snookered him in his arrogant manner knowing that he would release him or else he would not fix the problem he had created in Comm. “Hmmm. You may want to reconsider that.”  “And why would I want to do that?”  “Ask Fergus.” It was obvious that the recalcitrant youth had set up some sort of a virus in their system. He’d stared at Frank for a moment, then walked over to his window where he had a clear view of Comm. and Fergus in the middle of a multiple anomaly because the decoded sequence was generating a virus that was bleeding into the system. Wolverton-Randall’s cocky and boastful reply was the last straw. “I might be able to fix that for you.”  He immediately realised that Frank, who was wearing a very smug expression on his face, knew about the possibility of a virus before he’d left on his little sight-seeing tour of Section and knew that it was his get out of jail card if he needed it. But of course that hadn’t eventuated and the tables had indeed been turned on the lad with Section’s subterfuge when Frank thought he was home and hosed and going back to his parents. Operations understood that Section’s double jeopardy alone by reneging on their agreement was enough reason for him to side with Colum in his vendetta against him in particular and Section One. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Madeline also internalised what Fergus had told them about Frank Wolverton-Randall.

She remembered vividly when he came into Section and was cognizant of his tender age but his mental prowess was undeniable. There was no denying that the lad was a genius in his field, so what Fergus had told them was entirely feasible. But Operations was far from happy with the Intel about his compatibility to life in Section and it was not what he had wanted to hear when they had discussed the youth.

“What about Wolverton-Randall Madeline?”  “I'm working on an integration program.” “What’s his survival likelihood?”  “Over 92 percent, actually ... He's a surprisingly good match.”  Section’s head strategist remembered sitting at her desk observing the lad on her monitor. Operations was standing behind her, also staring at the scene. He’d leaned down to get a closer look at Wolverton-Randall and had watched as Claire left Frank to amuse himself. She noticed his 'realignment' of the computer hardware and wiring and had brought up Fergus Claudel's Profile on the monitor to prove that he was capable of accessing their files to ally his boredom while he was waiting to be told why he was there. Her observation of his behaviour was very telling. “Fergus? Fergus Claudel. Age - twenty-one; one hundred thirty-five pounds; 20-80 vision; SYSTEMS ADMINISTRATION for every host on this Local Area Network. Should I continue?”  Madeline had acknowledged his skill but only because they had let him. “We've let you roam through an outer, non-secured area of the network to give you something to do."  “Gee, thanks. You think I can't dig deeper?”  His scornful reply was soon silenced by her ice-cold demeanour. She’d turned from distant and kind to threatening. Moving closer to Frank he’d immediately felt her intrusion into his personal space which was exactly what she had wanted him to feel. But more importantly, Wolverton-Randall soon realised that her threatening tone left no illusions in his mind … she meant what she had said. Frank, being the bright genius that he was, picked up that this woman was dangerous and he needed to tread lightly. “If you did ... and by some fluke ... happened on to something, classified ... You'd never go home again. ... Never see your family again. ... Your life would be over.” For a brief moment their eyes held a type of holding war. Then her warning delivered, she’d returned to her 'distant and kind' impersonation and Frank was slightly intimidated.  “We've gone to a great deal of trouble to protect you, don't work against us Frank. We need you to break a code.”  “What if I don't do it?” Her threat … “You'll do it,” and her cold stare had left him in no doubt that she meant exactly what she said and there would be no deviation whatsoever. Frank was facing a personality that he had never had to face before. She was someone intelligent enough to realize his potential, but cold enough not to be more lenient due to his age. She was a formidable woman and Frank knew when to listen and do what he was told. A slight smile bowed her lips recalling this incident, but her thoughts soon turned to others involved in Frank Wolverton-Randall’s incarceration. Perhaps he also had a grudge against Claire Beauchamp and James Fraser as well given that they were the ones that captured him and brought him into Section. That could explain his helping Colum with Intel about them from the mission as well. If he was able to destabilise the operatives crucial to the Rising Dragons’ mission then he would have accomplished his job … to sabotage the mission for the head of Oversight … or for his own retribution against Section One. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d gone back on her word. Frank may have perceived this as a lie which had left him in Section One against his will with no chance of returning to the life he once had, or more importantly to his mother and father. “I’m sorry we had to do this, Frank. We need your assistance for a short time ..., then you'll be safely returned.”  All Colum’s platitudes about them doing so well were obviously just a ploy in the early phase of the Rising Dragons’ mission so that when the end game was near, Colum then would put in motion his plan … whatever that was and for whatever his reasons were. More than likely his motives were because of his lost love Letitia and Dougal’s succession under suspicious circumstance as she’d already alluded to with him.  Colum had never come to grips with the disappearance of his love … Section One’s founder … and if he knew that Dougal was in any way involved then he would seek vengeance on his brother.  That could very well explain his skulduggery in involving Frank as a mole hoping to find a link between her vanishing and Operations more so than the triad per se.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Section’s leaders each had cause to reminisce on Frank Wolverton-Randall but were also interested in Fergus’ take on the young man and his reasons for thinking that he was Colum’s mole. “Go on.” “I've worked with him. But I never trusted him.” “Surely this is just sour grapes on your behalf?” Operations interjected but not entirely convinced by the young techie’s answer. He realised that Frank had kept Fergus on his toes and had come into Section because their IT mastermind couldn’t solve the problem.  

Was he just saying this because he was better than him and this was what riled him? Did he still have self-esteem problems over the computer genius’ methods?   

Fergus realised what Operations was alluding to and he vehemently denied this assumption. “Of course not! He's the only one who could have gotten through for Colum like he did. I found something that I’m sure is how the Intel was passed on to him.”

“Continue.” “I re-routed a deep channel and found an interesting anomaly. It would appear that Frank Wolverton-Randall has the expertise to monitor our systems even from afar. After Bóinne Rivière gave me the mechanism, she’d found that I’d missed in my search, I re-scanned the Med Lab computers and I found a suspicious tag on Dr. Foster’s workstation computer that held Claire and Jamie’s medical history while they were in Med Lab … It was a programme piggy backing off his case files.” “So he could access their progress without us even knowing. Is that what you are saying Fergus?” “Yes. That's right.” “Let me get this clear … what you’re telling us is that Frank Wolverton-Randall would be able to access these medical files when they were open and then pass that Intel on to Colum without anyone knowing.” “Precisely. I've unlocked a half dozen security two files as well. Each contains a treasonous breach which would result in immediate cancellation. They're all linked to Frank by an iris match. He set up an elaborate system that was not easily detected and he went to a lot of trouble to cover his tracks.” Operations leaned on Madeline’s desk with a thought provoking look on his face. Madeline too had a similar disposition. “Explain.”  “That's the scary part. He’s been beta testing the software … working out the kinks. Frank used an unusual code, but I remembered the similarities to when he first came into Section One for that very purpose to solve the complex code. He was the only one who had any idea how to approach that thing. This one had elements of that code that Frank had initially solved. It has his footprint all over it. Methods used to decipher it had been implemented in reverse so no one would suspect or be able to find the decryption to decode it. It was difficult but I did it … and voila … it linked to Wolverton-Randall totally.”  “I see.” “There is one other damming thing that you may be interested in.” Fergus had already given them enough Intel to ponder and they were surprised that there could possibly be more explosive information. “What is it?”  He took a deep breath before uttering, “Colum has been keeping tabs on the Rising Dragons’ missions and in particular Jamie and Claire’s success.  He also has been collating data on the disappearance of the founder of Section One, Letitia Chisholm. ” The look on Operations face was incredulous. He couldn’t believe what Fergus had just said. “He’s doing what?!?” “How is that possible?” Madeline added perplexed. “A lot is possible if Frank Wolverton-Randall is involved it would seem,” was Operations terse reply. 

“Thank you, Fergus, … I think I have a lot to discuss with Operations. You have been most thorough.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued on Tuesday 11th August.

[punkandsnacks]

Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter 16; Escape

Author: @punk-in-docs​ & @adamsnackdriver​

Also on AO3-  

Masterlist-

Trigger Warnings: No warnings in this chap

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

                                                      ~ ~ 🥀  ~ ~

t's not the shade we should be cast in It's the light and it's the obstacle that casts it It's the heat that drives the light It's the fire it ignites It's not the wakin', it's the risin' - Nina Cried Power, Hozier I don’t know why, but something about this song spoke to me writing this chapter 🖤❣️ Along with “Running Away” by Maverick Sabre. One of my favourite artists of all time - go and check him out, he’s simply awesome.

Waiting was her greatest nuisance. She was on tenterhooks all day.

As if expecting someone to burst in and proclaim the true circumstance of her guilt. She’s peeking around corners and dreading every moment of cursed silence. Every lapse in conversation is a dagger in her side. She keeps expecting to be caught out.

By the time the evening draws in, she’s nearly apoplectic. She’s sat in the parlour watching the sky darken. And with every second of it blackening her excitement grows in her chest. Gestating bigger and bigger with every second she hears tick by on the mantel clock.

She hardly spoke through dinner. Just listened to her sisters usual fussing and Mama disapproving of yet someone else of their acquaintance. Iris won’t miss that.

She nearly leaps out her skin when Meg bursts in the clattering dining room door without warning, with a note to hand her father. A missive from the farmhand.

Her heartbeat slows to its normal thud. She’s unaware that her father watches her from down the table with a casting silent eye and a look of concern. Mama and the girls were none the wiser.

Then they sit in the parlour as night is heavy and steely blue-black at the window like a velvet drape. Fire and candlelight cloaks them all as the girls embroider. Mama reads a novel, and father sits behind the spread wall of his paper.

Iris takes a moment to look around at them.

She catches her fathers eye as he turns the page over in his papers. He gives her a fleeting smile that passes the time of day. She watches the way the ochre of the flames in the half blade off the lense of his reading glasses. He returns to his pages.

She’ll miss his silent sympathy. His calm presence was a balm she doesn’t know how she can be without.

She looks across at her vain, silly simpering sisters. She’s astonished to find that she will miss them too.

She’ll miss their gossiping and - amazingly - the screeching matches that erupt over who gets to wear their new bonnet or who gets the silk slippers. Or Iris’s pretty pieces of jewellery. Apart from two very adored beloved pieces she’s taking, she’s leaving the rest for them to scrap over. She smiles thinking on it.

It’s odd to think she’ll be in Bavaria. Living in a castle as a Lady to Lord Ren. And she’ll think of home, and she’ll grin, wondering if her vapid sisters will be fighting tooth and claw - having a tug of war - over her earrings or her pearl clasp bracelet.

She’ll miss Flora’s fiery head. In both temper and colouring. How bravely she defends her poor choices in various men of the militia. Then loves a completely different one the next day. She’ll miss how she always puts a pouch of dried flowers on Iris’s pillow when she picks too many - she always picks too many.

And Posy. Posy and her dreadful sweet tooth. How she always gave Iris heaps of her favourite pudding even though mama insisted she didn’t want her eldest getting too plump. Posy scraped it all onto Iris’s plate when her head was turned. Even if it was her sisters favourite.

And even though the way she borrows her books and dog ears the pages makes iris grit her teeth - she’s going to miss that dreadfully. She’ll see some plain unspoiled page corner in a book and her heart will pang and ring, sobbing, and longing for home.

Such longing.

Yearning for her squabbling siblings. For the sight and scent of her father’s study. For her tribe, where she has belonged for all these three and twenty years of her life. She’s sad that she can’t seem to belong here anymore. That’s one thing that causes her grief her about this arrangement. She must be apart from the three people she loves most.

She isn’t sorry to be leaving. Running away and absconding like a thief in the night. She can’t deny that this is her golden chance to escape. Flee from the life that drowned her.

This is her chance to share in a soul shaking love. One that’s seared her devotion to Kylo right down into the marrow of her bones. Scored his name on her heart in bleeding letters. She’s forever devoted. In a way none of them can yet - or will ever - understand.

She hopes in time, they will forgive her. That their leniency will outweigh the scandal and betrayal of her actions.

She casts a glance across to her mother where she silently reads her novel. No affection springs to mind.

Perhaps if she’d loved her daughter more, Iris could hate her less. If she’d even been affectionate instead of plotting. As it stands selling her eldest like a broodmare to matrimony, didn’t encourage anything for Iris beyond resentment. She was in a loveless unhappy marriage and she has no qualms about seeing her eldest shoehorned into something exactly the same. That is unforgivable in Iris’s mind. To experience the trials of such a match for years - and to then glean no lessons from it. It’s cruel.

And all for her want of connection-

Iris refocuses on her embroidery hoop. Stabbing thread harshly through the muslin and looping it through. She works diligently until the fire starts to die down. Father retires to bed. Watching his eldest with sparkling green eyes as he quits the room. Iris is preoccupied looking into her lap at her sewing.

She too heads for bed. Feigning tiredness even though she’s never been more wired. Never been so wide awake. And she was trying not to do anything out of the ordinary as per her usual routine.

She walks past her mothers and her sisters with a lump in her throat. Committing the last few scraps of moments of them to memory. “Goodnight Flora, Posy. Goodnight Mama.” She says simply as she crosses the room.

They call affable words her way. Mother opts for a single word in passing. “Night.”

Iris wonders if she’ll realise one day that would be the last words she ever spoke to her.

She opens the parlour door and slips out. The fire in the foyer hearth crackles. She sees father is in his study. Judging by the slithering glow of candlelight under the door.

She so badly wants to rush in and sob her goodbyes into his chest. Cry that she doesn’t understand how he could’ve sat there and watches Mama push and shove and pummel her around. She’ll never understand - but all the same, that doesn’t stop her from loving him dearly.

She thinks better of it. Climbs the stairs for bed. Confines herself in her dark bedroom. And then comes the true test of her bravery. She has to wait.

And wait and wait. And listen. Hearing as the whole house slowly drifts to dark. To sleep. For everyone to take to their beds.

She can’t read a novel. She can barely stand sitting still. She sits by the fire. Watching the door. Her bag was packed hours ago. Her meagre clutch of possessions. Some loved items and a couple of her favourite dresses and chemises.

She had penned a note for her family explaining every detail of her reasons for leaving. She left a separate letter for a Hux. Though he’ll probably cast it in the fire when he hears the news.

She’ll be leaving the heirloom engagement ring sat on top of it. Leaving the two ruinous sheets of paper on the end of her bed. Waiting for tomorrow. When it’s discovered she is gone.

Her bag sits by her feet. Along with her coat. She sits in the dark like a lonely widow and lets the amber glow of the fire die.

She’s already laced into her new wool lined boots. She wore two sets of stockings and her heaviest chemise.

She’s in a thick ruby wool dress that will be adequate for travelling. It’s rather a plain gown but it’s warm - he had said to dress warm.

She puts her hair into a free loose bun at the nape of her neck. Tied back with a snip of gold muslin. Her skirts will wrinkle in the coach but she doesn’t care about such a thing. She probably looks dishevelled and not at all pretty. But she cares not-

Everything is ready. Now there is only noiselessness. And anticipation

She hears her sisters dainty thumping treads. And then mothers stern steps. And then Meg and Julia gabbing about something, a man most likely, as they extinguish the candles on the landing and all over the walls and hallways. Putting the whole house into thick dull silence and darkness. Putting the day to rest.

She listens to their footsteps creak and creep up the attic stairs. The door closing in their wake.

Iris crosses to her door and opens it a crack. Peering out she can see nothing but the dull moonlight striping from the far landing window, across the floorboards. Silver streaks chase up to her door in the fluttering moonlight swaying in drips off the tree being fussed in the wind outside. Snow is starting to flake down onto the windowpane.

She shuts the door again. It was nearly midnight and her hour is approaching. She prays her bravery rises to meet it.

Father hasn’t come up yet. He was still in his study most like - she can get out the house without disturbing him. She’s certain. He’s dozed off in his armchair or got his head in his business letters and ledgers for the farm.

She puts her coat and slips her gloves on, she has second thoughts about her scarf and shoves it in her bag.

It contained her life, this travel bag, yet it seemed laughably light. And it carried everything she cherished. There’s something a little tragic about that, she decides.

She seized her bag in one hand, and her modest bonnet in the other. To disguise her hair. Should anyone catch a glimpse of her, out unchaperoned, at this time of night. If they recognised her. She can’t be too careful.

She steps to her door, bonnet and bag in hand. Coat on her back, and she stands there, glancing around at what’s left. She spied the two innocent squares of paper sat on her neatly made bed.

Such small things. And yet the words inked within those pages will alter lives. It seems an odd sort of cruel madness.

She silently steps out into the hall. Shuts the door on her room for good. Shuts the door on all this kind of life had offered her. She edges slowly along the floorboards. Listening to the clock in the foyer tinkle the chimes of the half hour before approaching midnight.

She wished she could give her siblings proper goodbyes. She thinks this as she tiptoed past their door. Her shoe creaks the whining boards and she freezes. Heart thudding up to choke in her mouth.

She feels horrified and sick, until her ears strain for noise and all she can hear is night drawing on around the stone walls outside.

She relaxed and crept further along the landing. The tips of her new shoes avoiding the truly noisy spots. She makes it to the top of the stairs and edges down inch by hushed inch. Glove skimming along the banister in a scraping soft hiss as she goes. When she gets to the foyer she creeps toward the door to the kitchens.

A figure awaits her in the armchair. By a dwindling fire.

Iris gasps and almost drops her bag. Her fear bubbled up and made her lip tremble terribly. She’d been caught out. Oh god no. She opens her mouth to speak but no defence comes.

Her father turns his head from where he’s sat fireside in his dressing gown, in his slippers breeches and shirt. Persian house slippers on his feet. His glasses were folded in his hands and there is a pensive weight on his greying brow.

“Papa...” She squeaks in a horrified whisper.

He eyes the bag and her coat. He is not a senseless man. He’s already well assessed what this means.

He swallows and rises to his feet. Lumbering up to his full, tall height. Pushing himself up off the chair by the arms. Like an aged old oak standing proud.

When he turns into the path of the moonlight flooded window behind him, it’s then that she sees the tears in his eyes. And ones that already stained down his cheeks. Her mouth gapes.

“Forgive me. I didn’t intend you to see me in this state...” He glances at her with red rimmed eyes. Raw and stark against the hazel bottle green of his pupils.

Iris is saddened for him. Turns out she wasn’t the only being in this house to cry alone.

“You are... leaving. So I see.” He comments offhand.

“I can’t marry him. Papa.” She blurts out in a hush.

“I’m sorry. I know you’ll want to stop me. That I’m ruining the family with reckless abandon. To convince me to stay. But you can’t. I cannot do it. I can’t walk into a life I will be leading falsely...” She tries summoning and explanation.

Her father cuts through her speech. Coming closer and clasping her hand in his. “Iris. Iris my dear-“ He soothes. He draws both her hands into his.

“I know.” He answers.

“I have no intention of stopping you. I only wished to detain you for a moment, to give you my blessing.” He offers.

She could be taken down with a tiny waft of a feather.

“Don’t mistake me. Please do not think me blind to your happiness, like your mother is.” He begins.

She’s aghast.

“I have watched you for these past few weeks. Grinding your teeth and holding that tongue of yours back when that entitled boy makes a remark you don’t agree with. I have watched him belittle and ignore you. And pass you over. To treat you as no more than a fertile vessel or commodity to be won. I want more life for you, than his meagre offering.” He holds firm.

“He dulls you. My dear. And you are too sharp and curious and intelligent to marry such a mulish man, who would never appreciate what a strong, kind and capable wife he has.”

Iris cries.

“He already sets your jaw on edge, even now. I can see it. And I cannot, will not, suffer the pain of seeing you trapped unto a marriage where your partner can never love nor respect you.” He tells her. “I know the pain well. It is not palatable.” He sighs.

He drops his eyes in shame. “I have not been a decent father to you. I have let my influence and opinion be set aside in favour of your being governed and bullied by your mother.” He bites out. His eyes fill with more tears. Voice strained.

“I am a coward. Iris-“ He begins.

She shakes her head. But he’s resolute to continue.

“No. I am. I am. And I’ve been weak. And what’s worse still is that I was a silent coward. I didn’t even speak up for the joy of my own daughter. I will never live that... dishonour...down. So long as I breathe. And for that, I am so very sorry. And you have all of my penitence for such a crime.” He says to her. Wringing her hands in his desperately.

“Oh, papa.” She cries. Voice no more than a croak. She throws herself in his arms and he sobs as he clutches her. Sways her into a hug and buried his mouth in her hair. Holding her close. He sniffs and sobs. She feels his chest bob with his cries.

“There is nothing you need apologise for.” She assures him.

Mr Ashton smiles. She was the sweetest soul under this roof. And he’ll miss her with every passing minute.

He pulls back and cups her hands. He doesn’t hide his tears. He doesn’t hide any of it and Iris aches with love for him.

“There is a great deal I must be sorry for, My sweet. I will live out the guilt of it eventually. So long as I’m contented that you are safe and happy.” He says gently. “That can be my saving grace.”

“Lord Ren is a very decent man by all accounts. I’m sorry I can’t claim to know him better than I do.” He counsels.

“I love him.” Iris says freely.

The first time she’s admitted it aloud and it makes more tears come. Father gives her his kerchief and tells her to keep it for the journey awaiting ahead of her.

“Then he is the most worthy and decent man living. Because you are every good thing embodied. And he couldn’t be lacking of those virtues either, or he simply wouldn’t be deserving of you.” He comments truthfully.

He sighs a deep breath. “Get out of this cursed god-forsaken village Iris.” He squeezes her hands tighter. Shaking his head.

Be free.

“Get out of this rotten bloody place and go to him. Marry the man your heart wants. I never did wed for true love, and it’s haunted me, my entire life long.” He promises.

She was the only decent thing his marriage has ever brought to him.

She hugs him again. “I’ll miss you most sorely.” She pledges.

“And I, you.” He strokes her back. Shuts his eyes and savours his daughter before she’s lost to him for who knows how long.

She pulls away he strokes hair off her cheek. Blinking in the sight of her face in the moonlight. For the last few seconds of her in actuality. Committing her to memory. For that’s all he’ll have of her soon.

“With you gone, I sincerely doubt I shall hear anything sensible cross your relatives tongues for quite some time.” He japes.

“Remark upon me in my poor state, once in a while, won’t you. And pray for my dear fraying sanity.” He sweeps more tears away. She blots them onto the back of her gloves.

“I’ll pray daily.” She smiles weakly. Bag in hand. Aswell as her bonnet. If that didn’t educate on the silliness of her sisters - nothing would.

He pauses to retrieve something from the mantel. She sees he clasps a little curved silver item. No bigger than a matchbox. Swirled with ornate silver gilding. He takes it and pressed it into her palm. It strikes a sudden zing of cold at her palm. She knows this ornament. It is the music box. The small Fabergé one that sat on the shelf in his office. His grandfather had imported it from Paris on his travels for her grandmother.

“I would like you to have this. So you have a piece of Ashton heirloom in your pocket as you go away to a brave new world.” He insists.

Iris opens the lid and the little while nightingale pops up, springing free to sing it’s call. She clasps it gently.

“I couldn’t-” She sobs. She remembers her sisters admiring it too. It seemed unfair he should gift it to her.

“No tears. My dear. No tears, I beg you. It’s yours and I’m bestowing it to you. I want you to see it and remark on those here at home, who still and have always loved you. Even if we didn’t show it as we ought.” He insists. Taking his hands from her.

She looks across at him. She’d been mistaken to think herself unloved by her parents. He did love her. He could just never bring himself to say so. Iris is awfully glad he’s taken this moment before all is lost.

“Go now. Make haste. Don’t linger too long bidding me farewell.” He offers. Walking with her across to the hallway leading to the kitchen. She tucks the music box safely in her bag. It chimes and chirps as she nestled it into her clothes. She reaches for him once more.

Iris squeezes his hand. “You have all my love. I’ll write when I can. Not for her.” She shakes her head, biting the word crossly. “But for you-“ She pledges.

“Send it to Mr. Grayson at the farm. He’ll see it reaches me safe.” He urges. She smiles. Nodding. Tears sparkling down her face.

“I’m sorry to say I will have shrouded this house in shame and gossip come the morning.” She frets.

He shakes his head with a fond smile. “We are tougher than we look. Never more so than when we are tested.” He assures. Such confidence in his Apple green and red raw eyes. She instantly believes him.

She throws herself into a hug. Fists a hand in his dressing gown shoulder and takes a deep breath of him one last time. Old leather musk of books and the sting of peppermint. “I love you.” She gasps with sad finality.

He nods. Swallowing a lump of stony sadness down in his throat.

“I wish you all the luck in the world, my dear dear girl.” He smiles. Eyes wet again. He cups her face and admires her for a second.

She clasps his hand tight at her cheek. And then she lets go-

He doesn’t have the strength to watch her leave. It’s too sad. Too hard.

He looks away and doesn’t return his eyes until the latch on the kitchen door softly clicks back into place in its frame.

The air hums with the absence of her. He prays to any god listening to convey her safely into Lord Ren’s arms.

He’d accompany her himself if it wouldn’t be so ruinous to explain come the morning. Why he was out of bed and out of doors at such an hour should anyone wish to seek after him. And she’ll move quicker without his old legs slowing her down.

He turns his eyes up to the snowy swirled heavens. And wills for her to have a better life than the one he could offer her here. He hopes he can see her again one day. When all this has passed. The hope for her is his salvation.

She scarpers across the moonlit lawn. Grass cold and crunching with frost under her feet. Snow is beading gently out the sky.

The clear moon of earlier has been replaced by chowder thick clouds. The cold wraps around her in a harsh biting embrace. Stinging at her exposed skin and making her hurry along all the more.

She takes the back lane to the woods. She didn’t wish to risk walking out in full view of the front of the house, down the drive. The road is pale with ice and dusted with snow. Icing sugar powder of it spills over her shoes.

The woods are already thick with it. Black trunks loom thin and warped; born out the white blanket of the ground. The tips of the trees blaze with flakes caught between them. Flecking the leaves.

She crunches her way along the lane. Her stride was something between a skip and scurry. Breath ghosting up in the air and her heart rattling in her ears. Her lungs sting and burn dry with cold as her breath drags into her body.

She cuts through the woods. Afraid her interlude with her father has made her late, and now Kylo would be worried she’d snubbed him.

She runs quick through the trees. Snapping slushing and scuffing twigs, frost and snow underfoot. Cold sneaks up her skirts where she holds them up to run but she doesn’t care- doesn’t even notice.

The trees are so gathered, that the branches rip at her skin as she sprints through them. Tears at her hair and her clothes. Snags are her and her cheeks sting. She bats away the grabbing things. They were like hands trying to tug her back. Trying to keep her tamed. To root her to this place. She’s having none of it.

Her hair got tangled in the snatching trees too. Pulls and only when she feels loose strands lap at her neck does she realise that the muslin had been torn and ripped right out. She presses onwards.

Her face stings and her eyes stream with cold. She comes up the lane that leads her to the church. Gnarled and slanted stubby shapes of the mossy gravestones are fog grey against the snow and the dark. Broken teeth of them rearing like lumpy beasts up out the snow. She throws the church gate open. Doesn’t care that it creaks. She runs up the worn grass path shoes scuffing at the pristine falling snow.

She comes out into the code of woods the other side of the church. The thing emerged out the snow with shimmering silver stone and the slate of its roof is edged with white where flakes settle. Oozing between the cold stony cracks.

The stained glass windows look dead and dull. The colours murkier in the dark. Smoky black and bleeding crimson staining the glass. The whites of the painted saints eyes seem to be arcing and watching over her in derisory disappointment.

She doesn’t glance back. She makes for the woods where she knows he’ll be waiting. She holds her skirts and she laughs as she runs. Her lungs puffed dry and freezing. But she’s so giddy she feels like her sides will split. Her cheeks ache from smiling. Not far to tread now. The cyclops of the moon hiding behind murky clouds watches her too. Silently keeping her secret.

She clears the worst of the trees and her heart soars when she sees a stark black shape of a coach up ahead. With an equally as tall dark haired man. His back to her as he stands in the snow. Head bowed down in his hands. Hair ruffled and dotted with flecks of it.

She presses a hand to her tummy where she suspects she now has a stitch. Because it simply feels so stupid - the amount of love and bliss thats coursing through her blood.

Kylo is outside the coach, of course he is. He’s much the same as her. He can’t sit still.

The gigantic elegant thing that will convey them to the Highlands set by the edge of the snowy muddy road. He’s pacing on it. Horses stamping in the cold. A shivering driver bundled up in pelts and thick coats.

He’s on the painful knifes edge of fretting. She’s not here yet. And it’s well past midnight. He’s worn circles in the snowy road. His coat heavily lapping and catching at his calves. The cold doesn’t bother him. Doesn’t touch him. He’s wearing a white shirt with the collar left undressed and pulled open.

It spills down his marble carved chest. Revealing him to the dark bitter woods and the snow.

He keeps bringing his silver pocket watch to hand - she’s ten minutes delayed. He watches the eleventh minute tick over.

His mind runs with the possibilities. She could’ve fallen and broken something in her haste.

She might’ve been discovered sneaking out and her mother tied her down, locked her in her bedchamber and threw away the key for good measure. His brain bubbles with mania and panic at the possibilities that could keep her from him.

He turns another circle and scans the horizon again. Sharp eyes not missing a thing. A cold breeze shudders across him from up the road. He stops dead in his tracks. That scent.

That was her. She was here.

He whips around, hands falling by his sides. Just in time to see her emerge quickly from the misty white of the woods.

Clad in her blue coat and a red dress. Her bag in hand. Her hair loose, curling and spilling over her shoulders. Cheeks are red and icy cold. Stung by the wind.

She’s never looked more lovely. So wild and free. And all his.

Her smile grows so great. As does his. She slows to a stop. Panting for breath that she’ll never catch. Not now. Not with him stood there looking all dashing.

Iris hikes her skirts and coat up, and runs straight to him and she’s no shame about it either.

She drops her bag on her way to him, uncaring for its contents. He meets her halfway. Their bodies clash in such a tempest of love.

She throws herself into his chest and he hauls her up so her feet don’t touch the ground. His strength was always so vastly great and he shows it in the way he lifts her so easily. Cradles the precious small weight of her in his big arms.

They collapse into glad sighs and she strokes her hand over his hair. Smiling out in bliss as she holds the back of his head. He clutched her back and her hair and buried his face in the crook of her cold neck. It delights and thrills her and she can’t conceive she can deserve so much happiness-

He sighs into her neck. Smiling into her skin. He draws back and looks right at her beautiful cold-kissed complexion. “Ready for this adventure? Lady Ren...” He asks. Cupping her cheek and most of her jaw.

“Wholeheartedly.” She answers.

He plucks a soft lingering kiss at her cheek and sets her down. Scoops up her bag and her hand and leads her through the crunching snow into the coach.

He opens the door for her and she clambers in. Erland snorts and shifts and stamps at her even from up the front of the carriage. Determined to have his share - he was such a diva he could never be left out.

“She’s coming with us, you great big fool.” Kylo comments to his horse. Iris laughs at their exchange as she settles herself in the plush velvet lined carriage.

Scarlet draping over every inch of it. A watery patch of moonlight slanted and cast down from the windows in the doors. She scoots across the bench for Kylo to sit next to her. He then commands his driver to set off.

Pelts and blankets and garnet silk brocade bolster-cushions line the seat opposite. He’s stuffed it with comforts for her. There’s a basket hamper of food and bottles of drink and a stack of leather bound books. She requires rest and sustenance. He seldom does. Not more than a handful of hours per night. But he’ll enjoy slumbering next to her.

Kylo shuts the door after himself. A gust of snow blooms with the force of it. Puffing into the velvet space. They are quite alone. And the carriage lurches off into that snowy dark midnight. Their new life together begins.

He greets her properly. Makes sure she’s snug in pelts and blankets and tips her face up to his by the chin to kiss her again. Her face pulls into an expression of agonised bliss. Tugs her closer closer closer.

Wraps his fingers around the back of one hip. Slithered his fingers between her coat and her dress.

He nudges her jaw out his way with a cheeky smile and shoved his nose into her hair to push it aside, nips and nibbles sucking teasing kisses down her neck that makes her shiver. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. You’ve no idea how long I’ve been dying to kiss your soft neck.” He grumbles.

He sucks an open mouthed kiss over her pulse and she moans and pants his name. Fingers trapping into the blankets as she says his name like she’s chiding him. They can both feel the desire marching over every vertebrae of her spine.

She shivers. God that felt good. Made her weak. Made her eyes roll back.

“Oh kylo.” She moans. Her toes curl with the sheer raw power of his seductive kisses.

He finds her left hand on her lap and strokes the empty space on her fourth finger.

“Now. I think I had better make this elopement of ours authentic. Had I not?” He smirks. Reaching for his coat pocket.

Then he’s drawing something small out the shadow coloured wool. Her lips part in a smile when he snaps open a small blue velvet box. She’s blinded by diamonds and sapphires.

A cluster of them all crowning a gold band which is set with more gems. Two sapphires surround a large round diamond. Rounded and sparkling gems.

He’s watching her carefully - with a smug expression taking over him as he plucks the ring out its silken nest and slips off her glove slowly, then slots it up onto her finger. It glides on and sits perfectly. He lets her admire for a second. Before lifting the back of her hand to his lips.

“It’s too beautiful.” She comments. Amazed at it. He reaches for the curtain at the window and draws it back. Let’s the moonlight shimmer off the cluster of stones. Fractured light drips everywhere.

“Now that looks a worthy decoration to sit on that pretty kind hand.” He smiles. Before he frowns and turns her head towards him. A curl of copper and iron drifts into his nose.

“Dove. You’re bleeding...” He remarks. When he turns her face there’s paper thin red scratches swiped across her cheeks. She raises her hand to her skin and brings away a dribble of blood.

“I ran through the trees. I must have hurt my cheeks and not realised.”

“How could you not realise?” He asks her as he brings her finger to his mouth and naughtily, suavely puts that fingertip on his tongue and sucks off the blood. Curls his tongue around her taste to savour the way most men would appreciate a fine burgundy wine.

It makes something throb between her legs when he gets his lips on her. His eyes look like they could cut her with a look.

Her blood coating his tongue is too sweet for words. Sweet sweet bouquet. An agonising temptation that he only wants more of.

“I was smiling too much to notice.” She admits in a blush. Chewing on the inside of her lower lip.

He kisses at that blushing sore cheek. Pressing his lips to the barely bleeding cut. It should help soothe and close it. “That makes me insatiably glad to hear.” He smiles.

She searches for his hand and holds it. “I’m sorry I was late to meet you. I ran into my father as I was leaving.” She explains as he leans in to kiss her jaw again.

He pulls back and his face turns rather serious and stern. “He didn’t try and stop you?” He seeks.

“He could not stand to see me wed to such a loveless man as Hux. He gave me his blessing to wed you. I didn’t think I’d be walking away with that.” She tells.

He suspected there was a reason to Mr. Ashton’s silence. And now he knew; it was guilt. He’s glad to see she is loved from her fathers quarter. It soothes him.

“I’m glad you were able to make your peace with him.” He confesses. Holding her dear sweet little hand in his own massive grasp.

She looks up at him. At that handsome earnest face that is watching her so intently. So full of love and desire.

“As am I. But for now. Can I be terribly audacious and ask you to kiss me again?” She seeks with a grin.

She squealed nearly as Kylo tugs her tight into his lap. Folds her thighs over his. One hand covering her ribs under her dress. Fingers teasing under the swell of her breast. His smirking lips kiss and nibble under her jaw and she gasps in bliss.

“Thought you’d never ask...” He smirks and growls into the scorching heat of her neck. It tumbled right through her and she knows more desire is to come.

”And if you hadn’t? I’d have had to taste those pretty lips without your permission.” He sighs cheekily.

He swoops up and takes her mouth and she truly things she might burst into flames.

His silky tongue falls like cream running along her lower lip. She shivers at the sheer erotic desire of it. And this is only the start-

He’ll need to be careful. Or he’ll have kissed her lips raw by the time they reach Scotland.

~

[hotchocolatewriting]

It’s a kind of magic #4

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Awesome drawing

I trusted them, I really did! Who is the villain here?! Because I’m certain it isn’t me this time! For once I trust someone, for once I ask someone for help! Look where it got me! Villain walked around in their cell. It was their own fault. Hero was right, I was the one doing bad things. I was the one who hurt others. I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this. The cell was dark, but villain could see fine. Their senses where stronger and they didn’t bump into anything while they were pacing around. They knew it had to be late, because the only sounds villain could hear where the guards that walked around outside the cell and other prisoners that were sleeping. ‘Maybe I should lie down too,’ villain thought. They walked over to their corner with the blanket. It was dirty from their blood and there were still strands of hair in their cell. Those other villains had just pulled it out! At least you couldn’t really see it. Villain was just about to close their eyes, when their ears peaked up. The door of their cell opened and the light turned on. Villain turned their head away, it was too bright. It was a guard with a stranger right beside them. Villain didn’t recognise them. The stranger smiled and walked over to villain. They grabbed villain’s cheeks and opened their mouth. Villain tried to pull away, but the strangers grip was too strong. “Nice transformation there, villain.” How did they know who they were? Had the guard told them? Who were they? Why were they here in the middle of the night? The stranger let their hand go through villain’s fur. The touch wasn’t nice, they pulled at the fur and pushed down on their back. They studied villain’s face and claws. They took villain’s horns in their hands and turned villain’s head. “Nice scales do you have there, what a beautiful black colour. Do they grow back?” The stranger turned to the guard. “I will buy them, but I do want a discount. The goods are damaged, look at all that blood on their back. It’s a shame.” The guard nodded. “Of course, no problem, as long as they get what they deserve.” Villain couldn’t believe their ears, they were being sold?! Villain tried to get on their feet, but the stranger was pushing them down by their neck. Villain couldn’t breathe! “Sleep well, beast. We are going home.” Villain felt something sharp in their arm. They couldn’t move anymore and their eyes slipped shut. Villain groaned, their muscles hurt and their body felt weak. The floor was cold beneath them. It felt like some kind of metal, but villain wasn’t sure. It felt like they were moving, but again, villain wasn’t sure, their head was foggy and they still couldn’t manage to open their eyes. It felt like someone had glued them together. Villain tried to push themselves of the cold ground. Their body was shaking, their arms could barely manage to get them up. Villain hit something with their horns and before they knew it they slammed against a wall. They shook their head and managed to open their eyes this time. Their breath hitched in their throat. They were in the back of a car, to be more specific, they were in a small dog kennel! Villain could see the outside world through the bars. The green hills and the trees. The animals and the small houses. Villain saw a small village in the distance, but they didn’t recognise it, they had no idea where they were or where they were going. They couldn’t see the one who was driving, the kennel had only one side with bars. They tried to open it, but an extra lock prevented them from doing so. The car drove through a large gate and they entered a driveway towards the top of a hill. Villain hadn’t seen any other houses in a while now, only woods and grassland. They stopped in front of a mansion. Villain heard someone open the door and slam it shut again. They waited until the person came to get them out, but no-one came. Villain let their head rest on their paws. The door finally opened and the stranger came into sight. They looked at villain with an amused smile. “I’m going to open the door of your cage to bring you to your new home. If you decide to put up a fight I promise you that I will overwhelm you and make sure you can’t use your claws again. Show me that you are submissive and I won’t.” Villain hid their tail between their legs. They suppressed the tendency to whine. They had felt how unusually strong this stranger was and they didn’t even know if hero had told them the truth about turning further. Besides, why would they fight? Would it make things any better? It probably wouldn’t get them anywhere. The stranger opened the cage and grabbed villain by their horns, pulled them out, and let them drop on the gravel. Villain yelped and their knees started to bleed. The stranger laughed and grabbed villain by the neck. They dragged villain behind them to the other side of the house. There was another dog kennel there, but this one was even smaller. Villain struggled and tried to get out of the painful grip. They whimpered and clawed at the strangers hands. Suddenly the stranger turned and threw them on the ground. They put their boot on villain’s throat and pressed. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” Villain managed to choke a small whimper. No, they had no idea, but there was something about the voice, something familiar, but they had never seen this face before. The stranger pressed harder. Villain’s lungs felt like fire, they needed air! Tears started streaming down their face and the lack of oxygen caused them to panic. I’m going to die! I’m going to die! Villain cried, but the only sound that left their throat was a soft squeak. They were getting dizzy and their body slowly went limb. Then the boot was lifted from their neck and villain took gulping breaths. Their lungs were burning and their vison was blurry. Villain cried out as the stranger kicked against their already broken rib. The boot landed again, this time on their arm. Villain curled up on themselves, trying to held the pain out. The stranger kept kicking and after what felt like ages they pulled villain up by their neck. Their cheeks were tearstained, their body felt broken. Villain didn’t dare to look the stranger in the eyes. They wanted it to stop, they wanted to be good. Maybe this was just what they deserved, they were a monster after all. “Look at me, beast!” The voice was cold and threatening. Villain let their eyes go up to look the stranger in the eyes. Their expression was cold, but there was an angry fire burning behind their eyes. “Do you know who I am now?” The stranger asked. Villain shook their head, it was all they could do without their voice. “Some people call you a supervillain,” the stranger said, “But we all know I am the biggest villain here. What a shame you didn’t recognise me, but oh well, that only shows the mask does its work. Right, villain?” Villain nodded. Supervillain smiled cruel, causing villain to whimper again. They hadn’t thought of supervillain! “Now be good for me and sit up like a good dog.” A sharp pain shot through their body as villain obeyed supervillain. Supervillain smiled amused and walked to a small shed in the garden. Villain didn’t move, far too scared of what supervillain would do if they saw them. They heard supervillain humming and saw them taking something out of the shed. Villain shrunk when they saw what supervillain had gotten them. In their right hand they held a black collar with diamonds in it, while in their left they had a muzzle that seemed like it was designed for villain. Villain swallowed hard and took a few steps back from supervillain. “Ah, ah, ahhh. No, no, I told you to sit and stay.” Villain immediately sat straight up, the pain in their ribs felt like they were hit by thunder. Supervillain crouched down in front of them and let the muzzle fall on the ground. They took the collar in both hands and placed it around villain’s neck. “Now you look even more like a good pet. You were always a handsome villain, I have to admit that much, but you don’t look bad in this form. Beautiful fur, shining black scales, yellow catlike eyes. You will be a beautiful display on my parties.” Supervillain tightened the collar as much as they could. Villain could only take some gulping breaths, just enough to fill half of their lungs. “Look at that! Such a good pet! I should get some jewellery for your horns too. Maybe something gold.” Supervillain grabbed their cheeks, just like they had done back in the cell. They picked up the muzzle from the ground and pushed it against villain’s face. Villain pulled away from it, but that only made supervillain angry again. They pushed villain against the ground, their face in the sand. “I just said you were good and now you pull away?” They pulled villain up by their hair and placed the muzzle against their face again. They attached the straps and pulled them tight so villain couldn’t take it off themselves. It hurt and cut in villain’s skin. They blink the swell of tears out of their vison and try to calm down. It felt like they couldn’t breathe at all. Their thoughts were fuzzy and the sounds that left their mouth where only squeaks. They wanted to beg supervillain to loosen the collar, to get the muzzle away that was taking even more of their precious air. They wanted to tell them that they would be good, but they couldn’t and they were choking. Villain tried to take of few short breaths, but that only caused them to cough behind the muzzle. Villain could barely breathe through it and they started to panic, gasping for air that they couldn’t get. More tears started to stream down their face. “Come on, don’t cry. You were villain once, right? They never cried.” That’s not true, villain thought. They were already broken after hero betrayed them the first time. The second time hit even harder and after that they lost the will to fight. Supervillain put them in the small kennel and left them outside. Villain’s back started to hurt after an hour, but they couldn’t sit in a different position. A few hours later they were so tired because of the lack of air. They had lost consciousness a few times, but every time they woke up with the burning pain in their lungs and back. A few hours after that it was dark again and it started to rain. Supervillain didn’t come to take them inside. They didn’t come to give them food or offer them shelter. This would be their new life from now on.