#intruder empire

[pluralsword]

So honored to have taken part in this zine!! was really fun to write our piece, pulled from a lot of different parts of the fiction including aspects we haven't released fic writing for (yet). Here's a little teaser... : “I know firsthand how awful the Decepticons can be in shaping non-transformers’ daily life and that of transformers themselves. I was made for the wants of one of their client states, the late Intruder Empire, thrust into diplomacy as a colonizing column for..."



Contributor spotlights part two!

[emaadsidiki]

Intrepid Museum 🚢🛩️🗽 NYC

[hualianschild]

let's talk abt hua cheng and the way his entire *almost* existence relates back to xie lian cuz it's been my current roman empire, his name having the word 'hua' which means 'flower' can be seen as relating to xie lian's god name (the flower crowned martial god), also he's called crimson rain sought flower cuz he was shielding a lone white flower (also represents xie lian) from the blood rain (he can be the said 'flower' in that rain too actually), that red coral pearl on his hair braid ? it belongs to xie lian, that red string tied around his finger, xie lian tied strands of his hair around that finger which represents marriage and ofc the red-string-of-fate soulmate trope, he has xie lian's name tattooed on him in his terrible writing, made an entire city just so his love can come there and rest and build a temple there so he can worship him and remained his only devotee when xl lost everything (that thing abt gods being in existence as long as there is someone to worship them) he gave up on becoming a god cuz then who will be worshipping his god ?? isn't afraid to show his true form to xl which he never did to anyone, destroyed those thirty three gods cuz they ridiculed his gege, took lqq along with him to qi rong's den so he can clear the false accusations even if xl didn't want him to CUZ YOU WILL NAWT BE HATING HIS DIANXIA OVER THINGS HE NEVER DID i mean his entire existence is because xie lian said 'if you can't find any reason to live, make me your reason to live' and oh isn't that level of devotion and love so devastating ?

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Story Setup and Character Info

Start | Next

Full text transcriptions under the read more:

Hometown was once a quiet, largely rural community…until, as often happens, much larger powers decided to move in. An expanding empire takes over the land around the small community, and the old town is now surrounded by a rapidly growing fortress and city. A more threatening military presence is felt, and poverty quickly creeps in as the expanding empire takes advantage of the residents still in Hometown. 

[Image of a smaller, more rural Hometown with a much larger city and fortress walls behind it]

While the younger generation at least attempts to adapt to all the changes, the older generation deeply resents this intrusion into their old home. Many of the elders, including Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr, Father Alvin, Mayor Holiday and her husband Rudolph, form their own tight-knit group that soon spirals into a cult.They’re a small community with no means of standing up to an empire’s armies. But, there’s always been old whispers of things far more powerful and terrible…old gods and strange horrors that hail from a Dark World parallel to their own. The cult focuses their attention specifically on tales of a Dark Prince, a goatlike entity made of fire and shadow that can pacify any enemy. Surely, if they can gain the favor of something so dark and powerful, they’ll have a means of driving away all of these intruders and restoring Hometown to the way it used to be.

However, as everyone knows, trying to call up old gods demands sacrifices. Mayor Holiday, having gotten the group together, tries to take the brunt of this duty and first sacrifices her daughter, December. However, it seems to be a botched ritual, and nothing useful results from it, leaving the Mayor extremely bitter. The other elders are tasked with picking up vagrants or other troublemakers to try and successfully complete this ritual, but none seem to work. 

Unwilling to offer up their own dutiful son, Asriel, the Dreemurrs instead adopt an orphan from the poverty-stricken streets of the encroaching city: Kris. However, they find that upon adopting them, Asriel quickly forms a close bond with Kris. Asriel, like most of the younger generation, is unaware of his parents and grandparents’ intentions. Kris is not easy to take care of sometimes…they have weird interests, aren’t very clean, and are often disobedient. Despite this, Toriel and Asgore find Kris growing on them, too. The thought of sacrificing them gets harder and harder to swallow. [Image of Kris and a human Asriel hanging out together and talking while Asriel sits at a writing desk. Toriel and Asgore look on the both of them from a nearby doorway.] However, the other elders start to pressure them, questioning why they’re so intent on keeping this weird orphan around. Aren’t they a symbol of everything going wrong with their little community, and with this invading modern future? Toriel continues to put it off, using the excuse that she is doing extensive research to make sure that they finally do this ritual correctly. While she is indeed conducting research, she also knows that they can’t do anything with Kris as long as Asriel is around with them. 

However, when Asriel is offered an extended stay at the city’s new university to get advanced training as a scholar, the Dreemurrs don’t have an excuse anymore. At the other elders’ behest to do what’s necessary for the good of the town, they decide to conduct the ritual with Kris. The cult brings Kris to an underground shelter in the woods outside town, with Kris none the wiser about their intentions until they are incapacitated and unable to escape.  Toriel’s extensive research pays off, and Kris is appropriately sacrificed to the Dark Prince. The ritual causes them to vanish from this plane, seemingly dead…but there’s still no sign of the old god they were trying to summon. 

[Image of Asgore, Toriel and other older townsfolk, dressed in various goat or deer masks and robes, with Asgore carrying Kris towards an altar.]

The Dreemurrs are distraught at this seeming failure, after they worked so hard to ensure that they did this right. The remaining elders double down, though, insisting that they have to keep trying. Asriel returns from his training, and is devastated to find his sibling missing. Toriel and Asgore, unable to admit what they did, lie to Asriel and say that Kris had a huge argument and left home on their own. Asriel vows to search for them and bring them back home, and while his parents try to dissuade him from this, they’re unsuccessful. 

[Image of Asriel stepping out the door of his home, a large backpack slung over his shoulder, and waving off Toriel and Asgore in the foreground. They stay indoors while he heads out into the world.]

Meanwhile, unknown to anyone in the Light World, the ritual was actually successful, and transported Kris to the Dark World…right into the home of Ralsei, the very Dark Prince they were trying to reach! Ralsei is delighted to finally have an actual human from the Light World visit him! Sure, he’s heard about all those previous sacrifices, but they never actually got to him. The Dark World and the afterlife aren’t really the same place, after all. [Image of Kris floating down into a new Dark World, where Dark Prince Ralsei stands next to a large cauldron and welcomes them.]

Kris, however, is infuriated and despondent…they’ve already had a very hard life as an orphan, and now just when it seemed like they had a new family they could trust, that trust was broken by adults who once again threw them away for their own purposes. Ralsei, ever cheerful, assures them that they must be here for a reason…and that he has a means for them to not only return to the Light World, but get retribution for what’s happened to them and their Hometown. 

[Image of the silhouettes of many large eldritch beasts: Susie, Noelle, Berdly and Catti.]

The Dark World is full of eldritch beasts, strange demons and old gods, after all. He can grant them the forbidden knowledge and ability to speak to and even command these eldritch beasts. Once they form a strong enough bond with the beasts, and make it through the bound gods that may bar the way, they can bring them back to the world of light…and command them to do whatever Kris would like to the people living there. However, such power and ability comes at a high cost…Kris’s human soul. 

[Image of Kris giving their soul to Ralsei; the soul emanates a red glow between them.]

Kris, seeing little other option and not feeling much attachment to their humanity anyway, agrees and sells their soul to the Dark Prince Ralsei. Ralsei excitedly promises that he’ll take extra good care of their soul, and that he’ll accompany them as they befriend the eldritch beasts lurking in the Dark World. This arrangement certainly has some other benefits for Kris, too…in addition to this forbidden knowledge, Ralsei’s control over their soul grants them a degree of invulnerability. If Kris dies or is somehow psychologically destroyed, Ralsei can use it to revive them completely. 

[Image of Kris, now decked out with armor and a sword, standing on a cliffside looking out over the Dark World. Ralsei stands nearby.]

Ralsei gives Kris suitable armor and weaponry for this venture, and the two set out into a vast Dark Realm of strange horrors, lost cities and twisting paths in search of new friends and a means back to the Light World. While Kris is unsure about this journey at first, Ralsei is all smiles, excited for them to gain some friendships that they clearly desperately need! Of course, he’s excited for other reasons, too…those cultists have been calling out to him for such a long time, and now with Kris’s human soul, he can finally enter the Light World. Kris can forge the bonds they’ve been lacking, Ralsei and the eldritch beasts they find will finally have access to the human world, and the people clamoring for terrible things to happen will get exactly what they asked for. How could that not be a happy ending?

[austinbutlerslovers]

Feyd Fantasy Part 5

Label Mature 18+

Endless Empire

Summary

Feyd Rautha becomes the Baron of Giedi prime and inherits all the responsibilities it entails.

The former Baron Vladimir on his deathbed was enraged at how well you corrupted his nephew. Implanting Feyd with the idea to kill his own uncle in order to ascend as Baron ahead of his time, (keeping you together). His nephews love and obsession for you disgusted him. But he still wanted his favorite prodigy to succeed... just without your interference.

He laid a treacherous plot to separate you from Feyd forever.

Starts off Dominating sex Ends with Passionate love making

⚠️ Hard Core Smut ⚠️

edging •missionary• rough sex •hip pinning•oral sex while distracted• fingering • orgasm denial• sex against a head board•multiple cream pies•multiple orgasms

Part 1 • Part 2 •Part 3 • Part 4•Part 5•Part 6 •Part 7

✍🏼Proofreader/Editor @faegoddessog 🫦Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia 💗Affection Consultant @magicovento

⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies ⌛️

💝Not for my softies (mentions of violence)

Inspo: ⚔️ Multiple anonymous requests combined ⚔️ -Feyd initiating oral while you are distracted -Feyd denying you an orgasm -Feyd restraining himself to be gentle -Feyd addicted to you -Feyd making love to you

(Requests sorted through the final 3 fics if you don’t see yours here)

Endless Empire

The populace of the planet Giedi Prime swarm the capitol in preparation for the coronation of their new Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. The military is in full force on display in the streets. All of the banners of Vladimir Harkonnen are clipped as Banners of Feyd Rautha unfurl across the globe.

Feyd refuses to change quarters to his departed uncles until it has been completely decontaminated and scoured. He wanted to take his fire torch and expedite the process by burning everything inside to a black char but was talked out of it by several advisors who mention structural integrity and fire damage.

He settles for having it stripped of every single thing inside. He wants it bare, then he will consider it. For now guards stand watch night and day at his door and in his courtyard without concern for his privacy due to the easier access of his quarters from an intruder.

During the stillness of the night he climbs on top of you. There is a brief moment were you gaze into each other's eyes and you call him by his new title “Baron Feyd Rautha” you say seductively. He smiles at you, his already hard cock swells with pride and he lunges his mouth for your neck. He eagerly licks a stripe from your collar bone to your jaw “My Baroness “ he says in return before passionately kissing you.

He teases your pussy lifting his hips and slowly rubbing his hard shaft up and down through your folds. He places kisses along your face and neck until you begin panting for him getting increasingly aroused from the stimulation. Once you are wet he lines himself with you and thrusts into your core.

You gasp as he slowly pushes his thick cock in and out of your tight soaked entrance. His passionate thrusts make you cling to his shoulders. He groans feeling the way his cock is sucked in by your needy walls. He restrains himself back to remain gentle.

You whine, you want him rough, tonight he is the Baron of Giedi Prime and you know what he likes, he wants to dominate and fuck you ruthlessly.

You slide your hands down his strong muscular shoulders to his pale lower back. You force him deeper inside of you.

His jaw slacks as he stretches you open fully to fit his cock. He locks eyes with you thrilled by your eagerness and increases his pace until his hips are rhythmically smacking against yours. He makes your walls pulse at every deep thrust of his cock.

You begin whimpering underneath him as you try to remain strong in the face of his rough plows. But he enjoys watching you fall apart. The way your face is a mix of pleasure and pain as he breaks you, unable to withstand his power.

Your moans get even louder when he’s rough and it excites him to dominate you.

His eyes are wild as he brings his hands to your hips pinning you to the bed for better leverage. He begins snapping his hips between your legs until his entire body tenses as he slams his cock into you. He pounds into you so fast and hard your mind fails to comprehend as you dig your nails into his back. “Feyd..I’m going to cum!” you cry out. You begin high pitched moaning as your abs flex hard and your core tightens ready to snap.

“Cum on my cock” he commands and presses his hand on your abdomen. He feels the size of himself sliding in and out of you and begins grunting as if he’s possessed. He wants to cum.

“That’s it Baroness …milk …my cock” he rasps feeling you fall apart beneath him. You moan his name as you orgasm and he strains as your walls tighten and expand rhythmically, trying to drain him of his seed.

He clenches his jaw tight as he cums hard. His silver ropes of cum paint your inner walls. He holds your waist and forces you onto his cock several times as he drains every drop of semen. He release his strong grip when he is empty. You both pant heavily for several seconds as you come down.

He pulls his hips back until his heavy cock slips out of you. He lays beside you and pulls you to rest your head on his shoulder. As you lay your arm across his chest you stroke behind his ear and down his neck until you both drift off to sleep.

The Decree

It is the day before the coronation. Feyd is already scheduled with several tasks in the morning. First a meeting with his advisors and governors of Giedi Prime on an important decree. Then his final fitting for his ascension garments followed by a run through of the ceremony taking place in the fortress courtyard.

He will also fit in meals and a fighting session with his sparring partner Ghul. Feeling the pressure stacking he needs to let out his aggression but you had forbidden him from fighting and killing gladiator slaves in his courtyard for stress relief.

Feyd is already up and dressed for his meeting. He watches you sleep as he fastens his Baron medallion to his regal garments and slides on his signet pinky ring. He is aching for you and squeezes your hip but you remain sleeping. He pulls the sheet higher on your shoulder caressing his thumb to your jaw before he leaves you to rest.

He heads directly to the meeting hall for his first appointment as Baron. The guards open the black inscribed doors for him. His twelve advisors and several reigning governors from each planetary district of Giedi Prime are in attendance. The table,seating fifty, is completely full. Conversations stop when he enters. They all look at him, immediately standing to bow in reverence.

Feyd takes his place standing at the head of the meeting hall table and they all sit following his lead. Apprehensive murmurs seep around the table before the Lord in Waiting stands up to make a statement. They fall silent.

“Baron Feyd Rautha, I have in my hands a decree from your Uncle Vladimir which was written on his death bed on his last ruling day as Baron.” He retrieves the official metal cylinder with the laser etched words and begins to read.

“Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, you will rule Giedi Prime as Baron. Your current marriage will be annulled. You are set to be married to Princess Irunlan, daughter of the Emperor Shaddam IV.”

The Lord in waiting pauses, letting the late Baron's words sink in to Feyd’s ears. He knows it is a heavy blow.

“My dying decree is a solution which guarantees that you are to be made Emperor without interference.” Once the Lord in waiting finishes reading the decree he places the cylinder in a nesting dock on the table making the etched letters project above the table for all to see.

Feyd quickly rises up from his chair unable to withstand what he’s hearing. He tries to disguise the rage boiling inside of him. The governors and advisors begin to murmur already sensing their new Baron is displeased.

Feyd holds the back of his chair, eyes burning with contempt. His uncle even from beyond the grave has fucked him over. He steals back from the table pacing waiting for a thought to form.

“Has the princess agreed to this?” Feyd asks cautiously.

The Lord in Waiting checks the correspondences to be certain. “Not directly but her father the Emperor has answered your Uncle's request. Emperor Shaddam IV has sent a formal message in return. He would like to set up a meeting for you and Princess Irulan to get acquainted and begin a courtship. The Emperor is more than willing to forgo the traditional courting protocol if you wish to skip directly to the marriage proposal instead m’Lord.”

A stillness fills the room. With no answer from Feyd the The Lord in waiting continues.

“Emperor Shaddam IV has heard the praises from Count Fenring of your accomplishments in the gladiatorial arena. He will give you his daughter’s hand without question. Shall I respond and set up the arrangements for your interplanetary travel to Kaiaten to meet the Princess? This could be arranged after your coronation as the New Baron of Giedi Prime m’Lord the timing would be immaculate.” The Lord in waiting awaits Feyds response.

Feyds rage calms realizing it is still in the initial meeting phase and no binding contracts have been made. He needs to make an impression on his new advisors and governors as Baron to change their minds on the decision.

“Have each of you signed off on this?” He asks his twelve advisors. They all nod in agreement, beginning to murmur with each other. The Lord in Waiting speaks for all of them. “This is the decision made by your uncle to ensure your empire m’Lord . The Baron - - -“

Feyd cuts him off

“Vladimir Harkonnen is dead” he says coldly.

The room falls silent. Feyd begins to walk the length of the table peering over at each member in attendance, judging them before he continues.

“The Emperor knows what I know and what everyone in this room knows. I am his only choice of ascendant. Just as I have been ascended to the throne by my uncle Vladimir, I will ascend the throne as Emperor.” He stops his pace at the Lord in Waiting who is standing at the foot of the table.

Feyd turns to speak to all of them. “The Harkonnen house is the strongest of all the houses. We are the richest of all houses. We are the farthest reaching with the largest army. Do you think any of that will change based on who I chose to marry?” He reaches past the Lord in waiting and slips the cylinder from its nesting dock. The Lord in waiting does not dare stop him.

Feyd glances it over, seeing his uncle's signet and smirks. “What my uncle failed to realize is that Princess Irulan has her own set of interests in mind. Do you think she cares for the Inhabitants of Geidi Prime? No. Her eyes are filled with blue, filled with the urge to exploit our most coveted resource. The spice of Arrakis.”

The advisors slowly nod in agreement.

“Why do you think the Emperor is so hasty to have me join his daughter? Maybe it is because we slaughtered an entire planet for him. Emperor Shaddam permitted us to wipe out our only leading rivals, the Atreides. All because Duke Leto was gaining too much power and defied him,” he smiles sinisterly.

“My uncle told me it was ordered to him directly by the Emperor to wipe out House Atreides. The decision was made so swiftly, that hundreds of thousands were slaughtered mercilessly as our armies reined down on them that fateful day”

The advisors and governors beam with pride, reminiscing the day they annihilated their most hated and long standing enemy.

Feyd smirks to himself again before continuing. He holds up the decree swishing it through the air as he speaks. “We have the hidden advantage of spilling our little secret, that Emperor ordered a genocide, any time we wish. In front of a tribunal of the Great Houses he will be exiled as a war criminal, and it was all orchestrated under my Uncle's reign. As your new Baron unattached to these ‘horrible atrocities’ we will remain unscathed and continue our exploits in this endless empire.” He says with a grin.

The governors and advisors are mystified at the way Feyd Rauthas mind calculated such an advantage so quickly.

He turns, pointing the cylinder at the Lord in waiting. “My interests are for Giedi Prime and my wife carrying the future Harkonnen heir. I ascend with my Harkonnen Baroness.”

The men nod in agreement and begin to clap before standing with a round of applause. Feyds rationale making them realize they hold power almost on par with the Emperor. As for their new Baron it is better he rule with a female under his control who knows the Harkonnen ways. Princess Irulan is an independent female free from male domination. She will combat his leadership and challenge his heritage at every instance in order to raid their resources.

“Have this destroyed” Feyd says as he slaps the metal cylinder decree into the Lord in Waiting’s palm. “Are there any other matters of importance you need to address with me?” Feyd asks, the Lord with a cold stare.

The Lord in Waiting studies Feyds menacing demeanor. He knows he will be a resolute Baron both cunning and ruthless. He decides to immediately pledge his loyalty to Feyd. “That ends the meeting m’Lord,” he bows his head gracefully. Feyd raises his hand in the air dismissing all in attendance and continues the rest of the day completing his other responsibilities as Baron.

Role of a Female

When Feyd returns to you in his chamber for the evening he feels accomplished. He secured you as his reigning Baroness. You lock eyes with him and he smiles at you before continuing on his path.

He strips naked out of his fighting gear, just having completed his sparring with Ghul. He heads straight into the decontamination chamber. Though sparring doesn’t compare with empaling his sword through the throat of a gladiator slave, he made it work just to appease you. Once he emerges from the decontamination chamber, he cleanses his mouth.

He has an enormous day tomorrow for his coronation and finally crawls into bed naked. You are resting against the headboard, reading “The Ancient Ways of Giedi Prime.” deeply invested in a chapter about the subservient roles of females on his planet. He gently pulls the sheets from your lap without you taking much notice.

Once he grabs ahold of your thighs spreading and resting between them you tip your book down and look at him. He tips the book back up into your hands. “Read it to me” he says sensually. You smile and begin to read aloud, “Though females have their place in the Giedi Prime hierarchy, it is to a lesser role and nearly on par with a servant… “ Feyd pulls your hips down, angling them towards his face. Distracted, you lose your place in the book.

He parts open your robe gaining direct access to your exposed pussy. “Keep reading,” his words fan against your folds as he spreads them open with his fingers.

Your heart rate increases with anticipation as you continue “ The main purpose of a Giedi Prime female is for personal pleasure and child bearing for the male… …-who controls her.”

You let out a moan and close your eyes as his warm wet tongue softly probes your entrance.

You are trembling with pleasure as he sucks onto your folds. You try to read one more sentence for him before going weak. “A Giedi …-Prime female will ..-never -..hold a ..position of power over a male …in ..-any way.” You let out a moan as he pushes his fingers into you thrusting them in and out. You put the book down already wet and aroused.

Your eyes close tighter at the added feeling of his tongue brushing against your clit with his fingers plunging in. He begins lapping up the arousal releasing from your folds for him.

His cock is throbbing, aching to come into you.

He climbs up and slowly kisses your mouth. When you taste yourself on his tongue you whimper and hold the back of his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss.

He grows weak from your soft lips overtaking his and recalls what you read to him in that moment. He would gladly let you hold power over him. He has fallen madly for you. The three forgotten words he is meant to say elude him.

With your back pressed to the head board he lifts your legs one at a time around his waist so you are sitting in his lap. He places both hands on your hips to hold you in place.

As you continue to kiss him he becomes needier and restless. You feel his hand brush between your thighs making you break the kiss. You look down between your bodies to see he’s aiming his cock for you.

He presses his tip to your entrance and you watch him slowly penetrate his shaft inside of you inch by inch. When he buries inside of you beyond capacity you look into his eyes mystified feeling yourself stretching to fit the size of his girth.

He slowly presses his hips onto yours making moans fall between both of your lips. He lustfully kisses you then, lulling you into a dream-like state as he remains stilled inside of you, warming his cock. You lock your ankles around his waist and feel him smile against your lips.

He begins gently thrusting into you with passionate warmth. Feyd is making love to you for the first time. Your psychotic, dominating, sexually-depraved husband presses into you gently, letting you feel every inch and vein of his cock. His tenderness all but makes you climax.

Your walls begin to pulse against his shaft, readying to orgasm. He stills his movements. “Why did you stop? I’m so close,” you plead just above a whisper. Your voice is full of neediness. He smiles as his pretty blue gaze into yours. “I want your pleasure intensified,” he says, grabbing ahold of your jaw and planting a kiss on your lips.

Once your walls stop fluttering he begins slowly thrusting into you again this time you feel an explosion of pleasure in your core as your mouth falls open. You cling onto him trying to stay sane. Your walls begin to flutter on his cock once more and he stills his movements a second time.

Your clit is throbbing to your core, you are painfully tight. Feeling him fully inside of you without moving makes your walls intensely pulse around his cock seeking any type of friction. “Feyd please….-please let me cum.” You beg at your peak, completely covered in chills feeling sensitive to every part of his being. He leans back, looking into your pleading eyes and smiles.

He knows you can not withstand being denied another orgasm, even though the build up would give you the most pleasurable experience upon release.

He sucks his thumb into his mouth wetting it and brings it down on your clit pressing into the nub and rubbing in circles. You moan staring into his eyes as your abdomen constricts and you are unable to move as you orgasm. Your walls pulse and clench hard as you cum without him even thrusting into you. You pant heavily feeling the euphoria and relief wash over you.

He rises to his knees, lifting you higher on the headboard with his strength and presses you back against leather. He begins clapping his hips into yours. The moans that fall in from your lips are foreign to your ears.

His hand caresses your throat as he gazes at you with his intense blue eyes. He feels the deep connection between your bodies. He thrusts into you deeply for what feels like an eternity with his stamina. When your walls flutter his cock twitches and he snaps his hips forward slamming you against the headboard the shock makes him cum as you orgasm.

His parted lips faintly touch against yours as his body tenses releasing rope after rope of his warm cum into your core.

You both moan in unison as your walls rhythmically milk him. He presses his hand to your throat softly kissing along your jaw and the side of your face in reverence. He inhales your scent as he rubs his soft lips and grazes his black teeth against your jaw. He can’t get enough of you.

He holds you to him bringing you down from the headboard. He slowly slips his cock out of you and lays you in bed pulling you to face him.

As he caresses the side of your face with his finger tips he gazes into your pretty eyes. You make him remember the forgotten words never spoken to him before. The three words that have all the meaning in the world. He plants a kiss to your forehead and pulls you to his chest. He drifts to sleep dreaming of you at his side for his coronation in the morning.

To be continued..

Part 6 Brazen Baron Available Now ->

Feyds Coronation| Feyds Pleasure| Feyds War

Part 6 Smut Requets: Sex against a window•sex in the throne room• Dom Feyd •Sub Feyd •Feyd wearing a collar •Feyd being handcuffed for sex•Feyd being whipped(with a crop!)•semi public sex• Feyd BJ•size kink• Feyd willing to give up his kingdom for you• Feyd gives up his kink (what?!)

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[slut4evanpeters]

WitchBitch

james patrick march x fem!witch!reader

song i recommend listening to: spellbound by siouxise and the banshees

warnings: slow burn smut, master kink, overstimulation, fingering, obsession, mind tricks, smut at the very end and im sorry it ends abruptly🙁

summary: you are a rival witch of cordelia and her coven. To play mind games with her, you deicide to hold queenie in the hotel under a spell.

word count: 7.2k

notes: i came up with this in the shower.... i kind of rushed the smut im so bad at writing smut im sorry guys.. AND im so sorry for all the build up💀 when i write i cannot stop.

MDNI 18+

At the center of this forgotten palace of despair stood James Patrick March, poised in his fine three-piece suit. His sharp jawline and slicked-back hair framed a face that had not known the passage of time in decades. His dark eyes flickered with excitement, a glint of amusement dancing within them as he surveyed his kingdom. He leaned against the desk stood in the lobby, inspecting the tarnished silver of his pocket watch. Time, after all, had little meaning here, and yet, for James, the ticking of the clock always held a promise of something. Usually chaos.

“Darling,” came a voice from the grand staircase behind him, silky and soft, yet edged with a power that made the air hum.

He turned, a wide grin spreading across his face as he beheld his wife descending the staircase with all the grace and presence of a queen. You moved with an ethereal elegance, your long black dress trailing behind you like a shadow. Lock of hair cascaded over your shoulders, framing a face that was both beautiful and formidable, eyes like obsidian and sharp as a blade. You were every bit the rival to the Supreme of the coven that now sought you out, yet you moved as though nothing and no one could ever challenge your dominance.

“My love,” James purred, straightening from the desk and walking toward you with a swagger that was both dangerous and playful. He reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it reverently. His eyes never left yours, and the fire that burned in their depths was matched only by the one that coursed through your veins. “You grow more enchanting with each passing moment.”

You smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of your lips that sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. “And you, my dearest James, ever the flatterer. But we both know you’re simply excited for the evening’s new guests.”

“Ah, yes,” James sighed dramatically, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “The witches. It’s been far too long since we’ve had such promising prey wander through our doors.” His eyes gleamed, and you could practically hear the wheels of his mind turning, already plotting the wicked games he would play with them.

You glanced toward the large, iron-bound doors of the hotel, sensing the approach of powerful magic. The coven was close now. Their magic thrummed in the air, sharp and clean, an affront to the ancient, dark energy that permeated the Cortez. They were intruding, bringing their light into a place where it had no business being.

“You do realize, my darling, that these witches are not mere mortals,” you said, your voice low and sultry, a warning laced within. “They’re Cordelia’s, and she is not one to be trifled with.”

James’s smile widened. “Oh, I do hope so.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at his eagerness. Despite his boundless enthusiasm for torment and chaos, you found his charm irresistible. It was that very dark charisma that had drawn you to him so many years ago, when your paths had first crossed in the shadows of death and magic. While most saw him as a madman, a murderer, you saw the brilliance in his madness, the artistry in his destruction. He was your perfect match, and together, you had created a life within the Cortez. An empire of secrets, blood, and eternal devotion.

“Don’t let your games get out of hand,” you murmured, resting your hand lightly on his chest. “Not yet, at least. There’s much to be gained from this encounter, and I’d rather not have it end too quickly.”

His expression softened, his hand coming up to gently cup your face. “Of course, my love. For you, I shall practice…restraint.”

You arched a brow, knowing full well how long such promises lasted with him, but you trusted that his loyalty to you would hold. It always had. His devotion to you was absolute, just as yours was to him.

“I’ll handle Cordelia,” you continued. “She knows I’m here, she’ll come for me first. The others are less important. Let them wander, let them think they have the upper hand.”

James’s grin turned predatory. “And then, we shall give them a proper welcome.”

The two of you stood in the dim light of the lobby, a portrait of dark elegance and dangerous power, ready to face whatever came next. Together, you were unstoppable.

Cordelia Goode had always been cautious, but there was a grim determination in her eyes as she stood outside the Hotel Cortez, flanked by several members of her coven. The hotel loomed before them, an imposing structure of iron and stone, its windows like hollow eyes staring back at them. The air around the hotel felt wrong, thick with malevolent energy.

“I can feel Queenie,” Cordelia said, her voice quiet but resolute. “She’s trapped in there. But there’s something else. Something darker.”

“Is it her?” asked Zoe, glancing nervously at the building. The younger witch had heard the stories about the infamous rival of their coven, the witch who had once stood toe to toe with the previous Supreme, Fiona Goode, and lived to tell the tale. A witch whose power was said to rival even Cordelia’s.

“Yes,” Cordelia confirmed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s here. And she’s the one who holds Queenie’s soul.”

The coven exchanged uneasy glances. They knew what this meant. This wasn’t just a rescue mission, this was a confrontation with a force as old and powerful as any they had faced.

“We go in together,” Cordelia said firmly, “and we do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Our goal is to find Queenie and get out. Understood?”

The witches nodded in agreement, though there was an undercurrent of fear beneath their bravado. None of them knew exactly what they would face inside the Cortez, but they trusted in their Supreme’s leadership.

As they pushed open the heavy doors of the hotel, they were immediately engulfed by its oppressive atmosphere. The air inside was thick, suffocating, and the very walls seemed to pulse with a dark energy. The witches instinctively huddled closer together, their magical senses heightened, every nerve on edge.

“Stay close,” Cordelia whispered, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of life or death.

They moved cautiously through the lobby, their footsteps echoing in the silence. There was no sign of anyone, no indication of the horrors that lurked within. Yet the magic here was unmistakable, a heavy blanket of darkness that threatened to smother them with every step.

And then, a voice rang out, smooth and elegant, laced with a dark amusement.

“Cordelia Goode, the Supreme herself. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”

You stepped out from the shadows, your presence commanding the room in an instant. The witches stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of you dressed in black, your eyes glittering with power and amusement.

Cordelia’s expression hardened. “You know why we’re here.”

You smiled, a slow, predatory smile. “Yes, of course. The poor little witch, trapped in my hotel. You’ve come to retrieve her.”

Cordelia stepped forward, her voice unwavering. “Let Queenie go.”

You tilted your head slightly, considering her. “And why would I do that? She came here of her own accord, after all. It’s not my fault she couldn’t handle the…atmosphere.”

Behind you, James appeared, his expression one of gleeful anticipation. He was clearly enjoying the tension in the room, his eyes flitting between you and the witches like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Now, now, my love,” he said, his voice a dark purr. “Let’s not be too hasty. I think our guests have only just arrived.”

You remained still, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. The Supreme witch’s determination was palpable, but so was the unease rippling through her coven. You could feel the raw tension in the room, the fear of the unknown, of a place that fed on souls.

James stepped forward, his stride confident and languid, almost like a panther stalking its prey. He cast an amused glance toward the witches, his hands clasped behind his back as if he were about to address guests at a grand party.

“My dear ladies,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet, “you’ve wandered into my humble abode, and yet, you haven’t even introduced yourselves. Quite rude, wouldn’t you agree?”

You raised an eyebrow at Cordelia, your amusement matching James’s. “James does so love proper introductions.”

Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough games,” she snapped. “We’re here for Queenie. We’re not leaving without her.”

“Ah, yes,” James said, his smile widening as he looked up toward the ceiling, as if recalling a fond memory. “The one who thought she could wield power here. A futile endeavor, really.”

“She belongs to my coven,” Cordelia said, her voice steady, though you could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes. “And I will not leave her here to suffer in this wretched place.”

James tilted his head, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Suffer? I don’t know if she’s suffering, dear, but she certainly isn’t going anywhere.”

You watched Cordelia closely. You could feel her power, her strength radiating from her in controlled waves. She was no fool. She knew what she was up against, and yet she had come. That kind of courage, or perhaps it was desperation, made her dangerous. But you had been waiting for this confrontation, this inevitable meeting between you and Cordelia, two witches on opposite sides of magic, each vying for control in their own way.

“You’re a fool if you think you can walk in here and demand anything,” you said, your voice calm but lethal. “This hotel is not a place for your kind. Magic here is twisted, corrupted. Your light will do nothing but feed the shadows.”

“I’m well aware of the darkness that lurks here,” Cordelia said, her eyes flicking from you to James, and then back to you. “But I won’t leave without her.”

A tense silence followed her words, and you felt the coven shift behind her, preparing themselves for whatever might come next. James’s smile was almost gleeful now, his eyes lighting up with the promise of chaos. He took a step closer to Cordelia, but before he could speak, you laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Patience, my love,” you said softly, though your voice carried a warning. “There’s no need to rush.”

He looked down at you, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something only you ever saw. Devotion. In all his madness, his bloodlust, there was one constant: you. He would burn the world for you, but he would also restrain his hand at your command.

He nodded slightly, and you turned back to Cordelia. “I’ll make you a deal, Supreme.”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

“Find Queenie, if you can,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “If she truly wants to leave, I’ll allow it. But if she’s chosen to remain…well, that’s another matter entirely.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she nodded. “Agreed.”

You smiled faintly, knowing that she had no idea what she was truly agreeing to. “Good. I’ll even give you a head start. This hotel has many secrets, after all. You may find that time slips away from you faster than you realize.”

With a wave of your hand, the air in the lobby shifted, the dark energy of the hotel pulsing with newfound intensity. The witches tensed as the walls around them seemed to ripple, and the very atmosphere became heavier, more oppressive.

“Good luck,” you said, your voice low and laced with amusement. “You’ll need it.”

Cordelia gave you one last hard look before turning to her coven. “Stay together,” she ordered, her voice firm. “And don’t trust anything you see.”

The witches moved cautiously, their eyes darting around the room as they made their way deeper into the hotel. You watched them go, feeling the pulse of the hotel’s malevolent energy feeding off their fear, twisting the corridors ahead of them into a labyrinth of confusion and dread.

As the last witch disappeared from sight, James let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, they have no idea, do they?”

You turned to him, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Not in the slightest.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Shall we watch them squirm, darling?”

You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with dark delight. “Oh, yes. You know me so well.”

Cordelia led her coven through the dimly lit hallways of the Cortez, her senses on high alert. The walls seemed to close in around them, shifting and warping as they moved, but she kept her focus on the faint magical trace that lingered in the air. She could still feel Queenie’s presence, but it was faint, as though something—or someone—was deliberately obscuring her.

“This place is a nightmare,” Zoe muttered, glancing nervously at the flickering lights overhead.

“Stay close,” Cordelia said again, her voice steady. “This hotel plays tricks. It’s feeding off the darkness within it.”

“Do you really think she’ll let Queenie go?” Madison asked, her voice dripping with skepticism. “She didn’t exactly seem eager to bargain.”

Cordelia didn’t respond immediately. She knew the witch who ruled this hotel—knew her power, her cunning. The woman was dangerous, and whatever hold she had over the hotel made her nearly invincible here. But Cordelia couldn’t afford to show doubt. She had to believe that she could bring Queenie back, no matter the cost.

“She’s stalling,” Cordelia said finally. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t find her.”

The witches moved in silence for a while, the oppressive air of the hotel making it hard to think clearly. The corridors stretched endlessly before them, each one seeming to lead deeper into the maze-like structure. Cordelia could feel the hotel’s magic pushing against her, trying to disorient her, but she held firm. She had to.

After what felt like hours, they turned a corner and came face to face with a tall, dark door at the end of the hall. Cordelia felt the pull of magic behind it—strong, twisted magic that made her stomach turn.

“She’s in there,” Cordelia said, her heart pounding.

The witches exchanged uneasy glances, but they followed Cordelia as she approached the door. With a deep breath, she pushed it open.

Inside, the room was vast and dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old wood and decay. And there, in the center of the room, sat Queenie.

She looked different, her eyes hollow, her skin clammy. She stared straight ahead, unmoving, as though she hadn’t noticed them enter.

“Queenie,” Cordelia whispered, stepping forward.

But as she approached, she felt the familiar pull of magic around her, a trap.

The door slammed shut behind them, and the lights flickered out.

In the darkness, you and James watched from the shadows, your smiles hidden but unmistakable.

Let the game begin.

The room plunged into darkness, and the oppressive weight of magic bore down on Cordelia and her coven. The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls of the Hotel Cortez were alive, breathing and shifting around them. Cordelia’s heart pounded in her chest, but her voice remained steady.

“Stay calm,” she commanded, though she could sense the rising panic in the witches behind her.

“Queenie,” Cordelia called again, her voice carrying through the heavy shadows. She could still see Queenie, seated in the center of the room, her figure faintly illuminated by the dying embers of the flickering lights. Yet, the silence from her was unnerving—no movement, no response. Something was terribly wrong.

Madison, always quick to lash out when threatened, raised her hand, a burst of energy erupting from her fingertips to light up the space. The dim glow revealed the eerie stillness of the room, but as the energy crackled toward Queenie, it dissipated against an invisible barrier, fizzling out before it could even reach her.

“Damn it!” Madison hissed, frustration evident in her voice. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s not her,” Zoe whispered, her voice shaking as her eyes darted around the room. “It’s a trap.”

Cordelia took a step closer, her hand outstretched toward Queenie. Her instincts screamed for her to pull back, but she had come too far to hesitate now. The closer she got, the more she could feel the distortion in the air, the unnatural magic wrapping around her friend. Something was holding Queenie in place, something ancient and powerful.

Just as her fingers brushed the edge of the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room shuddered violently. The lights flickered back to life, casting the room in a sickly, yellow glow. And then, with a low, menacing chuckle, the shadows shifted.

James Patrick March stepped out of the gloom, his eyes gleaming with predatory delight. He was the picture of calm elegance, his three-piece suit immaculate as always, but there was a madness in his grin that sent a shiver down Cordelia’s spine.

“My, my,” James said, his voice dripping with amusement. “You’ve made it so far, Supreme. I must say, I’m impressed.”

Cordelia didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained locked on James, her expression hardening. “Where is she?”

James raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “Who, darling? The witch trapped in her own mind? Or the one you call Queenie?”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Cordelia snapped. “Let her go.”

James’s smile widened, his gaze flicking between the witches. “But why would I do that? You see, Queenie has made herself quite…comfortable here. In fact, I daresay she rather enjoys her time in my humble hotel.”

From the shadows behind James, you emerged, your figure as graceful and commanding as ever. Dressed in your flowing black gown, you looked like a dark queen reigning over a twisted court. Your eyes glittered with dangerous amusement as you took your place beside your husband, your hand lightly resting on his arm.

“She’s ours now,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “This hotel has a way of holding onto those who don’t belong. Your precious Queenie is no exception.”

Cordelia’s fingers twitched at her sides, but she held her ground, her gaze never leaving you. “Queenie doesn’t belong to anyone,” she said, her voice cold and firm. “I’ll bring her back, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

You smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “You still don’t understand, do you, Cordelia? This hotel… it has its own will. Once you step inside, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are. The Cortez decides who stays, and who leaves.”

“And Queenie,” James added, his eyes alight with dark pleasure, “has already made her choice.”

Cordelia took a step forward, her magic pulsing in the air around her. “You’re wrong. I can feel her. She’s trapped, but she’s fighting. I will free her.”

You and James exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between you. Then, with a slight nod from you, James stepped back, giving you the floor.

“Very well, Supreme,” you said, your tone mocking but laced with undeniable power. “If you believe you can free her, then try. But know this—once you start, there’s no turning back. The Cortez doesn’t like to be challenged, and neither do I.”

Cordelia squared her shoulders, her determination unwavering. She knew this was a battle not just against you and James, but against the very fabric of the hotel itself. But she wasn’t going to back down, not with Queenie’s life on the line.

She raised her hands, and a soft glow began to emanate from her fingertips. The air around her shimmered as she channeled her magic, directing it toward Queenie. The witches behind her tensed, readying themselves for whatever might come next.

But as soon as Cordelia’s magic made contact with the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room erupted into chaos.

The walls seemed to bend and twist, the floor beneath them rippling like water. The lights flickered violently, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to move on their own. And then, the laughter started—low, menacing, echoing from every corner of the room.

James’s laughter.

Cordelia’s magic surged against the barrier, but it held strong, feeding off the dark energy of the hotel. Queenie remained frozen, her eyes wide and glassy, as if trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

“You can’t win,” you said, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “This hotel is alive, and it’s hungry. It won’t let her go.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t stop. Her magic intensified, the glow around her hands brightening as she pushed harder against the barrier. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she refused to relent.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia barked, her voice strained. “Help me!”

The two witches immediately stepped forward, joining their magic with Cordelia’s. The air crackled with energy as the combined power of the three witches surged toward Queenie, pushing against the dark barrier that held her captive.

But for every inch they gained, the hotel fought back, its malevolent energy twisting and warping around them. The shadows writhed, the walls groaned, and the very air seemed to close in, choking them.

James watched, his grin never faltering. “Oh, how delightful,” he mused. “Such

determination, such power. But it’s all for nothing.”

You stood by his side, your arms crossed, watching with cool detachment. Part of you admired Cordelia’s strength, her refusal to give up even in the face of overwhelming odds. But you knew how this would end. The Cortez had claimed Queenie, just as it had claimed so many others before her.

Still, there was something intriguing about watching Cordelia fight, watching her defy the will of the hotel and push herself beyond her limits. You wondered, briefly, if perhaps there was more to her than you had given her credit for.

And then, with a deafening crack, the barrier around Queenie shattered.

The room fell silent.

Queenie slumped forward, gasping for breath, her body shaking as the dark magic released its hold on her. Cordelia rushed forward, catching her before she could collapse to the floor.

“You’re okay,” Cordelia whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment, it seemed as though they had won.

But then, the floor beneath them began to tremble.

James’s laughter returned, louder, more manic than before. He clapped his hands together, delighted by the unfolding drama. “Oh, how marvelous! You broke the barrier! But I’m afraid it’s far from over.”

You stepped forward, your eyes locked on Cordelia. “You may have freed her from the trap,” you said, your voice soft but deadly, “but the Cortez is not so easily defied.”

The room around them began to warp once again, the walls bending and twisting as the hotel itself reacted to the break in its hold. The shadows grew darker, more oppressive, as the malevolent energy of the hotel surged to reclaim what it had lost.

“You’ve only made it angrier,” you continued, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. “And now, it will take everything from you.”

Cordelia’s heart raced, her grip on Queenie tightening as the room around them seemed to collapse in on itself. She had freed her friend, but at what cost?

The hotel was alive, and it was hungry.

And it wasn’t done with them yet.

The floor trembled violently beneath them, the Cortez reacting like a beast enraged. Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat as she held Queenie close, feeling the suffocating darkness around them. The hotel wasn’t merely a structure anymore—it was a force, something ancient, malevolent, and entirely beyond her control. It roared with fury as if the very act of defying its will had triggered a primal hunger that could not be quenched.

Queenie gasped for air, her eyes wide and terrified as she clung to Cordelia’s arm. “We… we have to get out of here,” she rasped, her voice hoarse from the ordeal.

Cordelia’s eyes darted around the room. The shadows were thickening, growing darker and denser, creeping along the walls like living tendrils. The witches could feel it too, the oppressive force pressing down on them, threatening to engulf them.

“We will,” Cordelia promised, though she wasn’t sure how. “Madison, Zoe, stay close.”

Madison’s usual bravado had vanished, her face pale as she looked at the twisting, warping shadows. “This place is alive,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “And it wants us dead.”

“Queenie’s free,” Zoe added, but her voice was shaky. “We did it. We can get out.”

“You think this is over?” you said softly, your voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade. There was an eerie calmness in your tone, but the power behind it was unmistakable. You took a few steps forward, the dark fabric of your gown trailing across the floor like a wave of shadows. “The Cortez doesn’t just let go, Cordelia. You should know that by now.”

Cordelia met your gaze, her determination still burning, but she knew you were right. She could feel it—the hotel wasn’t done with them. It wouldn’t stop until it had claimed something. The darkness was closing in fast, and even the combined magic of the coven felt like a flickering candle in a storm.

James stepped forward as well, his smile never faltering. He relished the chaos, the fear, and the power that swirled around him. “You’ve broken one little spell, Supreme,” he said, tilting his head. “But now, the hotel is awake. And it’s hungry. You’ve only made things… more interesting.”

His voice dripped with excitement, as if he couldn’t wait to see how this would unfold. His dark eyes glittered with madness as he stepped closer to you, his arm casually slipping around your waist. There was something so grotesque yet elegant in the way he moved, like a spider closing in on a fly caught in its web.

You allowed him to pull you closer, your eyes still on Cordelia. “This hotel is more than just brick and mortar,” you continued, your voice low but commanding. “It’s a living entity, sustained by the souls it consumes. It’s bound to us now. James and I are its caretakers… and its rulers. You can’t fight that.”

Cordelia clenched her fists, her magic crackling in the air around her. “I’ll fight for her, for all of them,” she said, her voice unwavering despite the rising panic. “I’ve faced worse than you.”

But deep down, Cordelia knew you were right. The Cortez was a labyrinth, designed to disorient and ensnare those who wandered its halls. Every inch of it was saturated with dark magic, and even with all her power, she wasn’t sure if she could get them out. Not without losing someone.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia said, her tone sharp, urgent. “We need to find a way out. Now.”

Madison glanced at the walls, which seemed to pulse and ripple like the surface of a black sea. “And how exactly do we do that?” she snapped, her usual snark barely concealing the fear in her voice. “The hotel’s turned into a nightmare.”

“It was always a nightmare,” you said, your lips curving into a knowing smile. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

Zoe tried to focus, reaching out with her magic to feel for a way out, a path that wasn’t sealed off by the hotel’s will. But every hallway, every exit, felt wrong, twisted. The hotel’s presence was everywhere, smothering and relentless. It was like trying to navigate through quicksand.

Cordelia’s mind raced. There had to be a way. She wasn’t about to let this place trap them forever. She glanced toward the faint light at the far end of the room, where the corridor led deeper into the hotel. It was risky, but it was the only option she could see. They had to move, and fast.

“Follow me,” she ordered, pulling Queenie to her feet.

But before they could take a step, the ground beneath them shifted violently, sending cracks spider-webbing across the floor. The walls groaned as if the hotel itself was coming to life, ready to swallow them whole.

James clapped his hands together, laughing with wild abandon. “Ah, darling, it’s glorious! The Cortez is truly showing its teeth tonight.”

You watched with a detached sort of amusement, but beneath it, there was a deeper understanding. The hotel’s power had always been great, but this was different. Cordelia’s defiance had stirred something ancient within the walls, something that even you and James could not fully control.

“I’d move quickly if I were you,” you said, your voice calm but edged with danger. “The Cortez has no patience for witches who think they can bend it to their will.”

Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice. She darted toward the hallway, her coven right behind her. The hotel groaned and shifted around them, the walls elongating and warping, but Cordelia kept her focus ahead, refusing to let the disorienting magic of the place deter her.

You and James watched as they fled, knowing full well the Cortez would not let them escape so easily. The hotel had a way of twisting time and space, trapping its victims in an endless loop of horror and madness.

“Do you think they’ll make it out?” James asked, his tone light, as if discussing the outcome of a dinner party.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing as you watched the witches disappear down the corridor. “Perhaps. But even if they do… they won’t leave unscathed.”

James chuckled, pulling you closer as he gazed into your eyes with that adoring madness only he could embody. “I do love when you’re right, my darling.”

You smiled, the dark energy of the hotel swirling around you. “And if they manage to survive, well, they’ll know that the Cortez leaves its mark on everyone who dares to challenge it.”

Cordelia and her coven ran, the hallway stretching impossibly long before them. The hotel was fighting them, twisting reality to keep them trapped. Every door they passed seemed to lead to another version of the same corridor, looping endlessly.

“We’re running in circles!” Madison shouted, her frustration spilling over.

“Keep moving,” Cordelia commanded, though she could feel the walls closing in, the magic warping around them.

Queenie stumbled, still weak from the spell that had held her, but Zoe caught her before she could fall. “We’re not leaving without you,” Zoe said firmly.

Cordelia tried to focus, tried to find a break in the hotel’s magic, a weak point they could use to escape. But the energy of the Cortez was overwhelming, seeping into her bones, clouding her mind. It was as if the hotel itself was alive, hunting them, savoring their fear.

But then, just when all seemed lost, Cordelia felt it—a faint flicker of light, a thread of energy that didn’t belong to the hotel. It was a small opening, a chance.

“There!” she shouted, pointing ahead.

The witches rushed forward, following Cordelia as she led them toward the faint glimmer of hope. The hotel groaned around them, resisting, but Cordelia pushed through, her magic flaring as she reached for the thread of energy. With a final burst of power, she tore open a rift in the fabric of the hotel’s magic.

A door appeared before them, glowing faintly with the light of the outside world.

“Go!” Cordelia ordered.

The witches didn’t hesitate. One by one, they stumbled through the door, back into the cold night air beyond the hotel’s cursed walls.

Cordelia was the last to pass through, her heart pounding in her chest as she cast one final glance back at the Cortez. The darkness inside seemed to ripple, as if the hotel was watching her, waiting.

As the heavy door of the Cortez sealed shut behind the fleeing witches, the hotel's energy hummed with satisfaction, like a predator content after a brief but thrilling hunt. The dark magic of the place settled back into its familiar rhythm-watchful, patient, knowing that no one ever really left the Cortez. Its halls would call them back, just as it had done countless times before.

You stood beside James, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer.

The witches had escaped for now, but their connection to the hotel remained, and that was enough. The thrill of the chase had rekindled something in you-a reminder of the power and control you wielded in this place, alongside James. It was intoxicating.

James, ever observant, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He turned toward you, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and admiration. "Ah, my darling," he purred, stepping closer to you.

"You were magnificent, as always. Watching you wield the hotel's magic like that, there's nothing quite as exquisite."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I could say the same for you, James. You do have a flair for theatrics." Your voice was laced with affection, though beneath it, there was something more, a simmering intensity that had been stirred by the night's events.

He chuckled softly, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace. His touch was familiar yet electric, a spark that always seemed to ignite whenever the two of you were close.

The twisted elegance of his presence, the madness in his eyes—it matched the darkness within you, and together, you were an unstoppable force. A perfect pair.

James leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and velvety. "The way you command this hotel, the way you ensnare those who dare challenge us... it makes me fall in love with you all over again."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head slightly, allowing your lips to graze his neck. "Oh, James,' you whispered, your voice a soft purr. "You know as well as I do that this place, this power-it belongs to the both of us. We rule together, and thats what makes it so powerful. It belongs to both of us. We rule together, and that's what makes it so... intoxicating."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was dark, intense, filled with the same hunger you felt coursing through you. "Indeed, my love. We are bound, not just by this hotel, but by something far deeper." His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb tracing your cheek as if memorizing every detail.

"You're mine, and I am yours. Forever."

There was something possessive, almost primal, in the way he said it-like a vow that transcended time and death. And in that moment, you felt the full weight of your bond, the dark and beautiful connection that tied you and James together in ways that few could understand. It was a love forged in blood, in madness, in power. It was both your strength and your obsession.

Your breath hitched as his words hung in the air between you, thick with meaning. You could feel the pulse of the hotel around you, as if it, too, recognized the depth of what you shared. Slowly, you leaned in, closing the space between you, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened into something far more intense.

James responded eagerly, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips were fervent, his kiss filled with the passion and madness that always simmered just beneath his polished surface.

The world around you seemed to blur, the only reality that mattered was the feel of his lips on yours, the way his hands roamed over your body with the same possessiveness that echoed in his words.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as the kiss grew more fervent, more desperate. It was as though the two of you were trying to consume each other, to merge completely into one.

The intensity of your connection, your love, had always bordered on obsession, and tonight it felt even more heightened, charged by the dark energy of the hotel and the thrill of the night's events.

James broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips, his voice ragged with desire. "You drive me mad, my love.

Every time I look at you, every time I touch you... I burn for you."

You smiled against his mouth, your own desire mirroring his. "Then burn, James. Burn with me."

With a low growl of pleasure, he captured your lips again, the kiss deeper, more demanding. His hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting every nerve. You could feel the heat between you building, the air around you crackling with the raw intensity of your shared desire.

James lifted you effortlessly, and with a graceful spin, pressed you back against the nearest wall, his body pinning yours as he kissed you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His lips left yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as

he whispered your name like a prayer.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him on as your own need consumed you.

The world outside-the witches, the Cortez, everything-faded away, leaving only two of you, bound together in this intoxicating dance of passion and power.

James's mouth found yours again, and this time, the kiss was slow, deliberate, a contrast to the frenzied energy of moments before. It was a kiss filled with promise, with the dark love that had sustained you both for so long. The Cortez was your kingdom, but this. This was your sanctuary.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathless, your bodies humming with the shared intensity of the moment. His hand gently cradled your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "For now, for always. You are my queen, my everything."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the depths of his devotion, the madness and love that mirrored your own. "And I love you, James," you murmured, your voice soft but filled with the same intensity.

"We are eternal, you and I. Bound by blood, by power, by love. Forever."

His lips curved into that familiar, wicked smile, the one that always sent a thrill through you. "Forever, my love," he echoed, before capturing your lips once more in a kiss that sealed the vow between you-two souls bound together in darkness, for all eternity.

And as the Cortez hummed softly around you, it, too, seemed to recognize the power of the bond you shared. You and James were the heart of this place, the rulers of its twisted halls.

Later that night.

The sound of skin connecting with moans and loud huffs of breath is lost in the air, leaving nothing but the feeling of your pleasure in its absence as James fucks himself into your cunt.

Each time his cock pressed into you, slick dribbled out of your chubby cunt, staining the once clean sheets. He failed to put a towel under you like he usually does, too desperate to get inside you to care about something as silly as dirtied bed sheets.

Your legs were spread wide on the bed, each ankle hanging over the side of the bed. You rested your head on the pillow underneath you, arms resting under the cool side of the fabric.

He has no mercy, almost ruthless in the way he fucks you. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum at this point, and what’s funny is he hasn’t even came once, leaving you in a puddle of pleasure that seems to never end even when you start crying.

James's back was arched harshly downwards, legs over yours, keeping them flush to the bed. His hips started to move faster, the once quiet sounds becoming loud and sloppy. Heavy balls slapped into your folds, making you moan out in needy pleasure.

A soft hand went down to your cunt, thumbing your lips apart to rub at your throbbing clit. His forefinger moved in quick, small circles, pressing against it hard.

"Oh, darling, yeah, just like that, clench your pussy just like that, clench that little cunt nice and tight around your masters cock." James groaned in your ear darkly, sucking a deep purple hickey into your hairline. "Always so fucking good for your master hm? Just Ravishing, aren't you, Dear?"

Your hips bucked hard into his hand, making his cock slip further inside of your sloppy pussy. "James-Ma-Master! B-Big, s-s-so so big! Fuck, fuck, it's so good James please!" Your cunt throbbed around him like it had its own heartbeat, slick sliding down from your hole onto the exposed part of James's cock. "Need-Need you to fuck me-!" Your voice broke off into a high-pitched whine when James started thrusting again, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

James doesn't stop thrusting, even when you beg and moan to tell warn him that you're close. He wasn't going to stop until he had you shaking and crying out for mercy underneath him. His hands move from your shoulder blades to your waist, pulling them up to meet his hips. James started using you like a glorified fleshlight, hips meeting yours halfway every time he pushed back inside you harshly. Quiet grunts came from him, matching up with the slapping of his hips.

"Master, Master, Master, Master-! C-Can-Can't!"

"Aww, that's it, that's it, sweetheart. Cum all over your Master's cock. That's it, my good fucking girl." You clenched around him tightly, throbbing and pulsing as you gushed all over him. "That's it, there you go, cumming for your Master like a good little princess." James moaned in your ear, biting and tugging on it as you quivered. "What'ta slutty little girl, so needy for me."

The consistent clenching around his cock drove him to the edge, his face scrunching up when his orgasm finally hit him. Thick ropes of cum shot inside of you, forcing a sultry, drawn-out moan from your lips. He pushed his cock deep inside you, ensuring that all of his spunk stayed inside of you. "That's it, good girl, what'ta good girl. Keepin' all my cum nice'n warm for me." James pressed on your abdomen gently, smirking when a small amount of cum leaked out of your cunt.

"Aww, it's leaking out of you, Darling. Guess we're gonna have to go again to keep you filled."

[ask-me-later23]

Weathering the Storm.

Spencer Reid x Reader in which Spencer comforts reader while they work through their intense storm anxiety.

Warnings: severe anxiety/fears of thunder and lightning.

A/N: I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea but hurricane is currently hitting FL and this is how I am coping. It might not help everyone but it helped meeee.

The noise was too much. It was all too much.

Between the quick flashes of light, the intense roars that followed, and the incessant scraping of branches against your window, it was all just too much.

It didn’t start off slowly, as you were used to with storms. No, this morning it seemed like the perfect fall day when you went to get coffee just down the block. You could even remember enjoying the soft breeze that brushed against you as you walked. This all seemed so far ago, so far away. 

The clouds rolled in quickly, followed in suit by the zips of lightning in the distance, and the grumbling that seemed to mock you. You hardly made it back inside before they began taunting you in full force. 

At any other moment you might have found this scene humorous. You’ve seen true horrors everyday, come face-to-face with real life monsters on a regular basis, yet here you are: sobbing and quivering over a thunderstorm. Brought to your knees by mother nature. 

But it is not any other moment. Right now you can’t even think straight. All you can focus on is how loud everything is. You clamp your hands over your ears in attempts to muffle the world around you, but it seeps through. It always does. 

A loud rapping at your door startles you, forcing out a loud whimper. Panic begins to set in. What happened? Is someone hurt? What’s going on? All questions you had no answers too. You hear the raps again, softer this time.

Suddenly, through the panicked haze, you remember Spencer was supposed to come over and drop off some case files. You attempt to move towards the door from your corner, but find all of your limbs refuse to answer to you anymore. Your fingers remain clenched to your head, and your legs are stuck curled up in front of you. Another whimper escapes your lips.

A moment passes and you think he gave up on you and left, but then you can hear the soft creak of the door being opened. How did he get in here? What if it isn’t him? What if it’s an intruder? What if-

“Y/N? The door was unlocked, I thought I heard something. Are yo-” Spencers concerned voice suddenly halts and footsteps begin rushing over to your currently hunched over body. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” You feel him kneel down next to you, a warm hand places itself on your knee, but your body jerks away from the sudden contact. His gaze burns a hole into the top of your head, but you can’t force yourself to look up and open your eyes. 

Suddenly another loud BANG goes off outside, sounding every single alarm inside your head once more, and you recoil from the noise. You hear Spencer readjust on the cold floor.

“The storm,” he whispers. Despite the softness to his tone, there is no question or uncertainty to his voice. 

You hear more shuffling, followed by footsteps walking away, and are suddenly worried he’s going to leave you. He didn’t sign up to be here for this, for you. He just came to drop off files. You might have a close bond but that does not mean he’s obligated to help. A soft sob escapes your lips, and then you hear the footsteps coming back towards you. 

“Shhh… It’s okay.” You feel him sit back down next to you. “You know it’s actually a myth that lightning can’t strike two places in the same spot. There are hundreds of places where lightning can strike twice. The Empire State Building gets struck about 100 times a year.” He moves closer. “Astraphobia is the actual name for an intense fear of thunder and lightning, and it is the third most common phobia in America. However, your actual chances of being struck by lightning are about 1 in 12,000.”

Slowly, you feel him brushing your back gently. This time you do not flinch. 

“In 1955 there was this huge thunderstorm in Belgium that set off over 40,000 pounds of explosives left over from the battle of Messines in World War 1. But the only casualty was a single cow.” You are enveloped in warmth that you didn’t know you needed as he slowly places a blanket over your shoulders. 

You can slowly start to feel yourself relaxing as you focus on his words. You stop shaking and your breathing begins to slow. “There’s a thunderstorm that forms regularly over Tiwi Islands that they named ‘Hector the Convector’ from September to March.” He pulls you in closer, hugging you tightly with one arm through the blanket. You slowly regain feeling into your limbs and lean into him. 

“Aristotle used to believe that thunder was caused by a collision of the clouds,” he continued his rambling as he cupped his other hand across your face.

“Thank you,” you manage to croak out. He wipes the tears away from your face and you finally manage to look up at him. His disheveled curls looked all over the place, yet framed his face perfectly. His brows were pushed together and the corners of his lips turned down in concern. “You don’t have to stay…it’s okay.”

As if wanting to make you seem a fool, mother nature sent another loud roar your way, causing you to shrink right back into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.” His arms gripped you securely. 

You both stay there for the rest of the night, even after the clouds dissipate and the storm calms. You don’t say much, just sit wrapped in each other’s arms in comfort.

[love-belle]

lo mein kayamat tak hua tera !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which everyone knows that they want each other, except for them and it's time that they change it.

or

for when you find out forever waala love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // f1 x platonic!reader // aditya roy kapur x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - this is for my desi f1 fans and desi f1 fans only ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, lilymhe, maxverstappen1 and 2,681,561 others

yourusername where is my munda kukkad kamaal da

11,986 comments

username the caption is so real like where u @

username SHE'S BACK IN INDIA LET'S GOOO

username Y'ALL PLEASE TELL ME U SAW HER IG STORY 😭😭

-> username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING

-> username not to mention aditya ALSO posted a girl on his story and she suspiciously looked like y/n ☝️☝️☝️☝️

-> username i'm going feral over this someone call the twitter detectives

username her being back in india means we shamelessly get adityay/n crumbs and im STARVING

username in love with u hello ma'am how r u real

username tere saath saath aisa koi noor aaya hai

-> yourusername don't test me i will cry and marry u on SPOT

username oh i am SO ready for the amount of content we're gonna get from her like winter break!y/n is actually my roman empire

username waiting for aditya and her to just be fucking oblivious in the comments 🙄☝️

landonorris giggling

-> yourusername i will giggle ur ass CHUP ( shut )

-> username 😭😭😭 please free my boy he has done nothing wrong

username 4ever giggling at the fact that aditya was the first person y/n hugged after her podium and they ALMOST kissed like 😭😭

-> username my roman empire fr like i genuinely felt like i was intruding on something

username no one understands her like i do we're the same people and i will make friendship bracelets by braiding our intestines together

-> username i am sorry was that extreme

-> yourusername a bit but i like your commitment

username daniel i expect u to give us updates EVERY HOUR i need to know if these bitches are hopeful or hopeless

danielricciardo i hope you know that adi is currently contemplating what to write and giggling

-> yourusername OH !

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username f1 grid in india where the FUCK is my indian gp ☝️☝️☝️☝️

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-> yourusername i do not appreciate being called out like this excuse u

username cannot wait for y/n to bully the entire grid into wearing traditionals 🤞🤞🤞

adityaroykapur i love taking pictures of you 💗

adityaroykapur wdym someone prettier than yourusername exists

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-> username DUDE GET UP 😭😭😭

adityaroykapur you look leng in a lehenga

-> yourusername thank u :))

-> sidmalhotra actually there's no "leng" in "lehenga"

-> adityaroykapur 😐😐

-> username someone lock away sid PLEASE

-> username my biggest concern is who the fuck taught aditya what leng means 😭😭😭

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adityaroykapur glad you liked the jhumkas ❤️

-> yourusername wore them the entire day ❤️

-> username and i'm gone

adityaroykapur chand theri roshni ka halka sa ek saya hai ( the moon is just a slivery shadow of your light )

-> yourusername hayeeee

-> charles_leclerc DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE

-> username omg

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, vickykaushal09, lewishamilton and 2,416,899 others

adityaroykapur black and white

10,729 comments

username i know who he did this for

username oh

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lewishamilton target audience reached 👍

-> adityaroykapur i owe you one 👍

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username i know that he got this idea off someone from the grid and i know exactly who he exactly got this from

-> username your case here 🎤🎤🎤 georgerussell63

-> username LMAO 😭😭

username giggling oh my god

username PLEASE I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH

georgerussell63 plagiarism

-> adityaroykapur you told me to post this ???

username screeching no one's doing it like him

username i love how his acc is just promos and stuff and then this thirst trap for y/n and y/n only likee

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username cannot wait to witness y/n have a mental breakdown in the comments over this 😭😭😭😭

sidmalhotra as y/n says "what's the square root of 64"

-> adityaroykapur 8

-> kiaraaliaadvani ATE !!!!!!!

-> username i love stupid men and their chronically offline selves

sidmalhotra this why you had to go to the beach itni subha ( early morning )

-> adityaroykapur i brought you breakfast chup ( shut )

-> username soulmates 🤞🤞🤞

usernsme live love laugh aditya roy kapur

yourusername woah

-> adityaroykapur thank you ???

yourusername you're sooooooo

-> adityaroykapur ???

-> yourusername hey bhagwan ( oh god )

yourusername be my munda kukkad kamaal da ???

-> adityaroykapur is this your way of asking me out

-> yourusername idk is it working

-> adityaroykapur absolutely, i'll see you at 7 meri jaan ❤️ ( my life )

-> maxverstappen1 what just happened

-> landonorris did they just

-> pierregasly oh my god

-> charles_leclerc it was that easy ?

-> georgerussell63 we just had to get him to post shirtless pictures. wow.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

yourusername added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

adityaroykapur added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, landonorris, kiaraaliaadvani and 2,528,915 others

yourusername he's my sataaye manaaye rulaaye hassaye all in one ( i don't know how to explain it, these are lyrics from a song "maahi ve" and basically it says that he troubles her, makes it up to her, makes her cry and makes her laugh, so like all in one )

tagged adityaroykapur

13,628 comments

username SCREECHING OH MY GOD

username im cryint i love tjem os mucj

username OHFJJSAJSJHHSS THIS IS INSANE I TELL U

username i prayed for this

username no bc i KNEW it the stories gave you AWAY y'all are not SLICK

username i saw them ask each other out that's crazy to think about actually

landonorris still mad i wasn't notified in advance

-> yourusername stay mad

-> landonorris you don't GET it i had to find out through COMMENTS

username in love with them oh my god

username they're my roman empire ur honour

username oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username the maahi ve reference imma SCREAM

username the way they're literally the it couple oh my god

sidmalhotra finally ‼️‼️‼️

-> yourusername no thanks to u

-> sidmalhotra badtameez ( disrespectful )

kiaraaliaadvani don't listen to sid, I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU I LOVE YOU BOTH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES FOR YOU BOTH TO GET TOGETHER OMGGGGG

-> yourusername KI I LOVE U SO MUCH WE CAN FINALLY GO ON DOUBLE DATES LIKE WE PLANNED ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username sid and aditya on a double date obviously with kiara and y/n

-> username need to see this happen immediately for mental health purposes

username everyday i wake up and see some shit like this. why does the universe hate me

username i wish y'all blocked me before posting this (IM SO HAPPY FOR U OH MY GOD)

username me preparing to spot aditya at EVERY gp this year bc i know my boy is not strong enough to leave y/n for more than 27 mins

maxverstappen1 he breaks your heart, i'll nail gun his.

-> yourusername alright edge lord no more wednesday for u

-> username CRYING 😭😭😭

username im so HAPPY y'all don't GET it i've been waiting for this for YEARS

username i screeched and my baby cousin woke up y'all im NOT playing around

username since no one's gonna ask the important question here I WILL

-> username what the story behind aditya and the jhadu photo ( broom )

-> yourusername he was trying to make a point and said that if acting doesn't work out he can start a cleaning service

-> adityaroykapur gaadi waala aaya ghar se kachara nikaal

-> yourusername no we cannot get rid of lando and charles

-> landonorris fuck you

-> username NO BC WHY ARE THEY CATCHING STRAYS AT EVERY POINT

adityaroykapur PRETTY word is real and it belongs to her and her only

adityaroykapur a living angel

adityaroykapur making my pupils dilate

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adityaroykapur my phone just did a backflip

-> username lord when will it be me

adityaroykapur i have NEVER made you cry

-> yourusername false u called me a daayan yesterday when i had my hair down ( witch )

-> adityaroykapur BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE ONE

-> yourusername WOOOOOOOW.

adityaroykapur we're cute together or whatever 🥰

-> yourusername whatever 🤨

-> adityaroykapur we're cute together 🥰 ****

-> yourusername perfect 🤞

adityaroykapur all i'm saying is, it would be a GOOD cleaning service

-> yourusername never quit your day job we'd go broke so FAST 😞

-> adityaroykapur what happened to "sheesh mahal na mujhko suhaye tujh sang sooki roti bhaaye" ( basically the hindi version of "i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings" )

-> yourusername that's very rich coming from u considering ur roti looks like a different country every time

-> adityaroykapur wow.

username in love u don't get me

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, sidmalhotra, lewishamilton and 2,368,257 others

adityaroykapur i promise to take photos of you forever if it means i get to be by your side. lo mein kayamat tak hua tera ( i'm yours till the end of the world )

tagged yourusername

13,178 others

username im crying btw

username GOING FERAL OVER THE CAPTION WHAT THEBFUCK KK

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username THEY'RE MY PARENTS EVERYONE SHUT UP

username taylor swift writes songs about them btw

-> username ARIJIT SINGH writes songs about them more like 😭😭

username forever cackling bc sis really asked him out in the comments section

-> landonorris she got no game 😞❌

-> yourusername still pulled a bitch before u

-> landonorris she called you a BITCH adityaroykapur

-> yourusername WATCH UR BACK AT TURN 1 IN BAHRAIN I WILL ANNIHILATE U

-> adityaroykapur ...

username crying bc we're gonna get aditya at EVERY gp like im not even wrong bc that man's down BAD for her

-> username simply existing gf 🤝 obsessed bf

username god i see how kind u have to others

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username O MAAHI LYRICS I AM DEAD I AM GONE I AM DECEASED I AM DECOMPOSING I AM SIX FEET UNDER

sidmalhotra happy for you both 🙄🙄🙄

-> sidmalhotra 🥰🥰🥰*****

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-> adityaroykapur did i unintentionally start another fight ⁉️

sidmalhotra finally no more talks about how much you want her 🥳🥳🥳

-> adityaroykapur that was CONFIDENTIAL

-> yourusername tell me more ☺️ sidmalhotra

username AND WE ALL CHEERED FINALLLLY

username the it couple of bollywood AND f1 i said what i said

username need me a guy who will post me like this or wtv 🙄🙄🙄🙄

yourusername bold of u to assume i'm leaving after the world ends 😕

-> adityaroykapur we'll haunt sid together 🤝

-> yourusername OMGGGGG YES

-> sidmalhotra MEINE KYA KIYA ( what did i do )

yourusername why do u always catch me off guard i look so bad 😭

-> adityaroykapur jhoothi you look perfect ❤️ ( liar )

yourusername i love u

-> adityaroykapur i love you so much more

-> oscarpiastri we get it MOVE ON

-> yourusername 😐😐😐

-> username LMAOOOOO

username i'm in awe WE'RE FINALLY HERE PEOPLE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[esouliie]

AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

 An angel flung out of space.

 "I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

--

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

 Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

--

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

 You don’t follow her.

--

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient.  The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips.  Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

 Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order...  now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

[goddessofvalyria]

THE NERD BOY | Michael Gavey x fem!oc

Summary: Mabel is a rich pretty American girl who moves to Oxford to study. One day, the nerd Michael Gavey notices her in the library pining for mathematics. The boy offers his help and soon a strange understanding is born between the two…

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Mabel with black eyes and hair, oral (m receiving), SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Michael being insecure.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4243

Mabel Reyes was the kind of girl who turned heads everywhere she went. She had that effortless beauty, the kind that made people whisper and stare in admiration. Her long black hair always seemed to catch the light just right, and her brown eyes sparkled with a confidence that came from knowing she was the queen bee of any social circle she entered. Back in California, she had ruled her high school like queen, with her impeccable grades and a cheerleading record that was the stuff of legend. She was the girl everyone wanted to be or be with, and she wore that title with pride.

But Oxford was different. Mabel had left behind the sun-kissed beaches of California for the misty mornings and historic halls of the University of Oxford. It was a place where her reputation had preceded her, whispers of the beautiful American girl with rich parents had quickly spread through the ancient stone walls. By the end of her first week, everyone knew her name. The daughters and sons of Britain's elite were drawn to her like moths to a flame, particularly a group led by the charismatic Felix Catton. Felix and his friends were Oxford's version of royalty, and Mabel fit in with them perfectly.

They spent their weekends in London, sipping cocktails in exclusive clubs and being photographed by paparazzi, their every move chronicled by society pages. Mabel dazzled them with stories of her glamorous life, tales of sailing in the Caribbean, and surfing in Australia. She spoke of America with a fondness that made it sound like a paradise, and she hinted at the life waiting for her after graduation—a life of luxury, managing her family's fashion empire back in California. 

But beneath the surface, Mabel was struggling. Her academic record had always been spotless, but maths had never been her strong suit. Now, in the hallowed halls of Oxford, the pressure was mounting. The looming exams were like a dark cloud over her, especially the thought of failing math class. It was the one subject she couldn't charm her way through, and it terrified her. 

One late afternoon, the library was nearly deserted, and Mabel was slumped over a pile of textbooks, her usually flawless appearance slightly disheveled. She had been staring at the same page of equations for what felt like hours, the numbers and symbols blurring together. She was used to things coming easily to her likes literature and history, but math was like a foreign language she couldn't decode.

That's when she noticed someone standing nearby, a figure she hadn't expected to see in her orbit. Michael Gavey was the polar opposite of everything Mabel embodied. Where she was glamorous, he was unassuming; where she was surrounded by friends, he was totally alone. But Michael was a math genius, known throughout the university for his brilliance and to be the most loser boy ever. He was the kind of person who preferred the company of books to people, someone who lived in his own world of numbers and theories.

He approached her hesitantly, as if unsure whether he should intrude on her space. "You look like you could use some help" he said quietly, his voice soft but clear. 

Mabel looked up, surprised. For a moment, she considered brushing him off, but the desperation in her chest won out. "I really don’t get this" she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Math has never been my thing."

Michael nodded, understanding her struggle more than she knew. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her, his presence calming in a way she hadn't expected. "Let me show you" he offered, and for the next hour, he patiently explained the concepts that had been eluding her.

As they worked together, Mabel found herself relaxing, her usual defenses lowering as she realized that Michael wasn’t there to judge her. He was just there to help.

As the weeks passed, Mabel Reyes found herself surprisingly drawn to the company of Michael Gavey. What had started as a purely practical arrangement—using Michael's brilliance in math to help her pass—had slowly transformed into something more. With each study session, she began to appreciate his quiet intelligence, his dry sense of humor, and the way he never treated her like the celebrity she was used to being. Michael saw her as Mabel, not the glamorous American heiress or the popular girl everyone envied, but just Mabel.

Word of their unlikely partnership spread through Oxford like wildfire. It was the kind of story that people couldn’t resist: the nerdy, awkward boy and the beautiful, popular girl, straight out of a rom-com. People gossiped about them, whispered as they passed by in the halls, and even made bets on whether something more would happen between them. But Michael, in his usual fashion, seemed completely unfazed by the attention. He never cared what others thought, and he made that clear during one of their study sessions.

It was a chilly afternoon, and they were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, the same place where Michael had first offered his help. Mabel was struggling with a particularly difficult equation, her frustration growing as she scribbled out yet another wrong answer. Sensing her tension, Michael calmly walked her through the problem step by step, his voice patient and steady.

After they finished, Mabel leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I heard there's going to be a big Christmas party soon. Felix and the others are all excited about it," she mentioned casually, glancing at Michael to gauge his reaction.

Michael didn’t look up from the book he was paging through. "I was NFI: not fucking invited" he replied, his tone neutral but with a hint of indifference.

Mabel frowned. "Why not? There will be all the college!"

Michael shook his head, a small, almost bitter smile on his lips. "Michael Gavey doesn’t exist in the eyes of others. And honestly, I don’t care about their stupid lives. They’re all wrapped up in their own little bubbles. I’m just not part of that world, and I’m fine with it."

His words struck a chord with Mabel. For so long, she had been the center of attention, the one everyone wanted to be around. But with Michael, she was reminded that not everyone was drawn to the same superficial allure that had defined her life so far. She looked at him, really looked at him, and noticed the faint blush creeping up his neck as he kept his eyes on the book. It was then that she realized something she hadn’t noticed before: Michael had developed a crush on her.

At first, she had used his feelings to her advantage, making sure he would continue to tutor her. But now, things were different. She had come to value his friendship and his company, and she didn’t want to hurt him. He was the only person who saw her for who she truly was, not just a pretty face with a wealthy background. And that mattered to her more than she wanted to admit.

The Christmas party was only a few days away, and as the date approached, Mabel found herself feeling more conflicted. Normally, she would have been excited about dressing up, being the center of attention, and partying with her friends. But this year, something felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, the party wasn’t where she wanted to be.

That evening, as she sat in front of her vanity mirror, carefully applying her makeup and fixing her hair, she couldn’t help but think about Michael. She pictured him, alone in his room or maybe at the library, completely uninterested in the glitz and glamour that surrounded her life. Part of her wanted to be at the party, to enjoy herself and live up to the expectations everyone had for her. But another part of her wondered what it would be like to spend the evening differently, away from the spotlight and with someone who truly understood her.

As she finished getting ready, she stared at her reflection, feeling a tug in her heart. For the first time in a long time, Mabel wasn’t sure what she wanted. The Christmas party was just hours away, but whether she would actually attend was a question she couldn’t yet answer.

Mabel stared at her reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. Her silver dress clung to her figure perfectly, shimmering with every movement. The high boots added a touch of boldness to her elegant look, and her hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her already striking features. She was the epitome of beauty, the kind of girl who could stop traffic with just a glance.

But as she gazed at herself, a strange feeling washed over her. This was the image everyone expected of her—the glamorous, perfect Mabel Reyes. Yet tonight, it felt like a mask she no longer wanted to wear.

She took a deep breath, stepping away from the mirror and grabbing her coat. The party was waiting, and she knew she’d be the center of attention as soon as she arrived. But as she walked through the corridors of the old Oxford building, her heels clicking against the stone floors, doubts began to creep in. Each step felt heavier, as if something was pulling her back.

Halfway to the party, Mabel stopped. She could hear the faint sounds of music and laughter in the distance, but instead of feeling drawn to it, she felt a growing desire to be somewhere else. With someone else.

Without giving herself time to overthink, she turned around and headed back in the opposite direction. Her heart raced as she made her way to Michael's room, a decision forming in her mind with every step.

Michael was in his room, completely absorbed in solving a complex equation. Numbers and symbols danced across the pages of his notebook, the familiar comfort of mathematics grounding him in his solitude. The Christmas party was the furthest thing from his mind; he had never been one for social events, especially those where he felt like an outsider. 

But then, there was a knock at his door. It was unexpected—no one ever knocked on his door, especially not during party hours. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a mistake. But the knock came again, more insistent this time.

He got up and opened the door, and there she was: Mabel Reyes, the most beautiful girl in all of Oxford, standing in front of him. The sight of her took his breath away. The silver dress, the high boots, the impeccable hair—all of it made her look like she had just stepped out of a dream. But there was something different in her eyes, a softness that he hadn’t seen before.

“Mabel?” Michael stammered, utterly confused. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the party?”

Instead of answering, Mabel took a step closer, her gaze locked on his. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside her. Michael, with his slightly tousled blond hair, glasses slipping down his nose, and that familiar sweater vest, looked up at her with wide eyes, clearly baffled by her presence.

Without a word, Mabel reached out, grabbing him by the front of his sweater. In one swift motion, she pulled him towards her and kissed him. The kiss was soft yet firm, a collision of two worlds that had seemed so far apart until now. Michael froze for a moment, completely taken by surprise, before he slowly started to kiss her back, his hands hesitantly finding their way to her waist.

As she stepped into his room, the door closing behind them, Mabel felt a wave of relief. She had no idea what this meant or where it would lead, but right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the connection she felt with Michael, something genuine and untainted by the expectations of others.

They pulled apart, both a little breathless, and Michael stared at her, still in shock. “Mabel, what—why did you do that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mabel smiled, a real, unguarded smile. “Because I wanted to” she said simply, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I didn’t want to be at the party. I wanted to be here, with you.”

Michael blinked, as if trying to process her words. “But...why me? You could be anywhere right now, with anyone.”

“Exactly” Mabel replied, her voice soft but certain. “But I’m here. You’ve been the only person who sees me for who I am, not just what I look like or where I come from. You’ve been real with me, Michael, and I needed that.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, a smile began to spread across Michael’s face, one that lit up his usually serious expression. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but he didn’t want it to end.

Mabel stepped closer again, resting her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. It felt right, in a way she hadn’t expected. And as they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of his room, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe.

Michael stood there, his heart racing as he processed what had just happened. The girl he had admired from afar, the one he never imagined would even notice him, had just kissed him. And now, she was standing in his room, looking at him with a smile that made him feel both exhilarated and terrified.

“That…that was my first kiss" he confessed shy, his voice trembling slightly. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, but there was something about Mabel that made him want to be honest.

Mabel's expression softened as she took in his words. She had suspected as much, but hearing it from him made her realize just how different their worlds were. Yet here they were, together in this moment. “Well, I’m glad I could be your first,” she said with a gentle smile.

She reached down and began to unlace her high boots, sliding them off one by one. Then, without hesitation, she climbed onto his bed and patted the space next to her. “Come here” she invited, her tone playful yet sincere.

Michael hesitated, nerves tying his stomach in knots. This was all so new to him, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. But he couldn’t resist the pull he felt towards her. Slowly, he walked over and sat down beside her, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He was tense, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which made any sense.

“What now?” he asked nervously, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Mabel looked around his room, taking in the shelves filled with books, the stacks of papers covered in equations, and the general chaos that was the domain of a true academic. It was exactly what she had expected—a space that reflected Michael’s brilliant but solitary mind. She turned back to him, her smile widening as she realized just how innocent he was.

“I’m guessing that if that was your first kiss...” she began, her voice teasing, “you’ve never had a girlfriend either?”

Michael shook his head, his blush deepening as he met her gaze. “No, never” he admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. He had always been focused on his studies, never even considering the possibility of a relationship, let alone one with someone like Mabel.

Mabel’s smile turned mischievous as she stood up in front of him, looking down at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Mmh, Gavey” she murmured, her voice soft but full of intent. She reached for the straps of her silver dress, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she let it slide off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet.

Michael’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of her standing there in front of him, completely vulnerable and utterly breathtaking. His face turned a deep shade of red, and he quickly averted his eyes, not sure where to look or what to do.

Mabel, seeing his discomfort, stepped closer and gently lifted his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

But he was nervous, more than he had ever been in his life. He had no idea how to navigate this situation, and the fear of doing something wrong was almost paralyzing. Yet, the warmth of her presence, the softness in her voice, made him want to try, to take a step into this unknown territory with her.

Mabel leaned in and kissed him again, this time slower, deeper, her hands resting on his shoulders. Michael closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of her lips on his, letting go of his fears, if only for a moment. When they pulled apart, she guided him to stand up, her hands trailing down his arms.

She could see how tense he was, but she also saw the trust in his eyes, the way he was willing to let her lead. And in that moment, Mabel realized that this wasn’t just about physical attraction or desire; it was about connecting with someone on a deeper level, someone who saw her for who she truly was.

Mabel stood in front of Michael, now wearing only a lace thong and no bra, her boobs were big and round. Her confidence was unshakable, while Michael was visibly flustered, unsure of where to look or what to do next. His glasses fogged up slightly, and he fumbled with his hands, trying to figure out where to place them. The reality of the situation was overwhelming, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

Noticing his discomfort, Mabel stepped closer and gently reached up, removing his glasses. She set them aside on the nearby desk, her touch soft and reassuring. “You don’t need these right now” she said with a smile, her voice low and soothing.

Michael blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden blur of the room without his glasses, but Mabel was the only thing he could focus on. Her closeness, her warmth—it was all consuming. He swallowed hard, still feeling awkward and unsure, but Mabel’s presence was calming.

She could see how nervous he was, and she knew she needed to ease his anxiety. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll guide you.”

Mabel’s words were like a lifeline, something for him to hold onto in the midst of his swirling thoughts. He nodded slightly, trusting her to lead him through this unfamiliar territory.

With that, Mabel leaned in, closing the gap between them, and began kissing him softly. Her lips moved against his with a tenderness that was both comforting and exhilarating. Michael was stiff at first, unsure of how to respond, but Mabel was patient. She took her time, her hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to relax.

Gradually, Michael began to respond, his lips mirroring hers as he let go of some of his tension. Mabel’s hands wandered down his back, feeling the slight tremble in his muscles as she deepened the kiss. She pressed her body against his, feeling the heat between them intensify.

Michael’s mind was spinning, the sensation of Mabel’s skin against his, her scent, the softness of her lips—it was all overwhelming, yet he found himself getting lost in the moment, letting her guide him as she had promised. 

As their kisses grew more passionate, Mabel could feel Michael beginning to relax, his awkwardness melting away under her touch. She knew this was all new to him, and she wanted to make it a moment he would never forget, a memory they would both cherish.

Mabel pulled back slightly, her lips just inches from his, and whispered, “Just follow my lead, Michael.” Her eyes searched his for any sign of hesitation, but what she saw was trust, and something more—desire.

With a reassuring smile, she guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to explore, to take the next step. Michael hesitated for only a moment before his hands moved cautiously over her skin, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

Mabel kissed him again, more urgently this time, letting him know that it was okay to let go, to embrace what was happening between them. And slowly, Michael began to do just that, surrendering to the moment, to her, as the rest of the world faded away.

Mabel took off his sweater and shirt, stopping to admire his bare chest. "Do you go to the gym Gavey?" she said with a smirk, noting his defined chest and toned arms. "When... when no one sees me" he revealed shyly.

Stripped of his clothes and wearing only black boxers, he felt uncomfortable. "I've never had sex" he declared. "I... I've never touched... a... girl" he continued embarrassed. Mabel, sitting on his hips could feel the hardness of his masculinity. "Fuck Gavey" she whispered.

"I'd like that" he continued embarrassed. "With you" he added, shyly encircling her hips with his hands. "If you like" he looked up at her. "Mmh yes, Gavey" Mabel whispered. She rose from his hips. "Look at me" she ordered, slowly slipping off her lace panties.

"You can keep them" she whispered, naked in front of him Michael felt paralyzed. he couldn't take his eyes off her. Mabel climbed back onto the bed, on top of him. "I can do something to make you feel better" she whispered kissing him, slowly moving her kisses down. she felt michael tremble, she grabbed his hand to give him confidence. Then she pulled down his boxers, revealing his big fat cock. She smiled at Michael before taking him between her lips, sucking him and feeling him give under her touch. The nerdy boy started to pant, that girl was demonic.

Mabel got even more excited, sucking and licking him, she felt herself soaking wet between the things. she didn't make him come, she stood up licking her lips, leaving Michael hard and erect. "Why---" he moaned.

"My pretty and nerdy boy" she began looking at him. "Do you want to fuck me, Michael Gavey?" Mabel asked. Michael felt himself blushing, he looked at his erection. "I... I would like that" he whispered. "Look" Mabel whispered, bringing two fingers between her legs and showing them to the little nerd. "I'm soaking wet and horny because of you"

Michael felt himself faint, his breathing becoming heavy. "Do you have a condom?" he asked. "Fuck, no, sorry I-" Michael began.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill" Mabel replied, lifting her hips. "Say goodbye to the little virgin nerd Michael Gavey" Mabel whispered, letting Michael's big cock invade her.

"Oh fuck Michael" she cried as she started to move, she put her hands on his chest riding him, michael brought his hands around her hips helping her move. She was so hot, so wet, tight... god, she was driving him crazy. Mabel was riding him so good, so easy.

Michael reached up to her breasts, touching her sore nipples. Mabel found herself moaning his name, riding him so fucking good that Michael felt the need to come. "Look at you," she whispered, cupping his face with one hand. "You're so cute, Gavey..." she teased him again, and soon Michael hardened and came inside her.

Mabel closed her eyes, clenching around his cock, coming on top of him. She collapsed on top of him, shaking and sweating, her makeup running.

Michael hugged her. "I know you like me," she whispered against his ear. "You have a girlfriend now, Michael Gavey."

Michael felt his heart explode with joy.

He had a girlfriend.

He was loved.

"If you want to," she whispered, still lying on his chest. "I... I'd like that, pretty girl," Michael whispered. Mabel smiled, sitting up.

"Ah" she groaned in pain. "My legs hurt." Michael looked at her. "You fucked me so good, my little nerdy boy." Michael sat up, gently took the blanket from the bed and handed it to her. "Sleep with me," he offered. "Of course I'll sleep with you," Mabel whispered, still naked, slipping under the sheets.

Michael let her have the side of the bed next to the wall, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I like you Michael, I really like you," Mabel whispered.

"Two weeks after you started tutoring me, I broke up with my boyfriend," she declared. "I was with him because my parents made me."

Michael felt a tightness in his chest. "With you, I felt free to be who I wanted to be and you accepted me." Michael turned onto his side, caressing her face and warming her with his body.

"My little nerdy boy," Mabel whispered, kissing him so intensely that it made his insides tremble.

Finally, Michael Gavey was happy and proud to be the little nerd boy.

[n0kt3rnal]

One of the things I loved about Andor was that Cassian goes on his big ‘this will change your mind’ mission heist. Instead of choosing to join the rebellion at the end of it because he’s seen how it’s the right thing, he runs. I love that he runs. He sees how hard the fight will be and what he’s expected to do and is like fuck no I’m out. 

It’s not until he experiences the truth, that the empire will never stop intruding into his life, even when he is trying to live peacefully, that he turns himself over to Luthen. It’s not until he sees there is no other way that he says ‘I’m ready now.’ It’s such a human take. We try and choose peace when given the chance. People don’t want to fight for their lives, even good people, even for a good cause. We want to live and love quietly but fascism will never leave space for it.  

[keimunnn]

in the tent

KUVIRA + F!READER

warnings: nsfw (18+) — vaginal penetration, use of metal strap, thigh riding, oral (recieving), wlw, dom!kuvira sub!reader, use of you/yours (let's just pretend kuvira has like a really huge tent she shared with you instead of that metal-like building in that one episode when su, wing, and wei intruded her when she 'slept' LMAO anyways) idk how to use tumblr

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As Kuvira entered the tent she shared with you in the army camp, her eyes immediately fell on your form. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your knees drawn up to your chest with a hint of a pout on your face. Kuvira chuckled softly, approaching you with a teasing smile.

"Now, now," She said softly, sitting down beside you on the bed. "Why so pouty, my love?" Kuvira brought her hand to your chin, tilting it up to face her.

You grumbled softly, leaning against her touch with a tinted look on my face. "My voice would haunt them for the rest of their lives..." You sulked, shaking your head. You couldn't even believe the fact the guards had heard the both of you fucking in a cave, forgetting the fact that they were guarding outside for any attacks of some kind but eventually heard your moans echoing throughout the entrance. You see, that was the case; The both of you weren't subtle with the noises.

Kuvira chuckled softly, shaking her head as she heard your words. "Oh, my love," She cooed, her hand gently cupping your face. "Why would what they heard be haunting?"

Her thumb gently stroked over your bottom lip, her gaze soft and affectionate. "All they'll hear is the evidence of your pleasure. Isn't that a good thing?"

"How lovely." You told her, whining a bit.

"All they could think about would be 'the Great Uniter fucks her fiancée everywhere they go.' and that was exactly what happened when we wanted to explore the cave and just... lost it!" You pointed out a finger at her, telling her about the possible rumor and then throwing my hands in the air in complete embarassment.

Kuvira laughed outright, her head thrown back in genuine amusement at your ranting. She reached out, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulled you onto her lap.

"And even if it were true," She whispered, her mouth trailing along your neck. "What's so terrible about that?"

You let Kuvira pull you to her lap, making you sit comfortably as she leaned in to trail her mouth along your hickey-covered neck, tilting your head a bit to the side to give her more access.

You had let out a quiet sound, her lips a bit ticklish on your sore skin from how she had attacked it earlier in the cave. "It's just a bit... scandalous..." you muttered out, closing your eyes shut at the feeling.

Kuvira chuckled softly, her mouth leaving a trail of light bites along your sensitive skin. She could feel you melt to her every touch, your body responding to her like a finely tuned instrument.

"Scandalous?" She murmured, her voice low and seductive. "Perhaps, but that only makes it all the more exciting. Let them wonder. Let them imagine."

"But you're the Great Uniter..." You softly retorted back, grasping onto her shoulders a bit with a shaky exhale.

Kuvira lifted her head slightly to meet your gaze, her eyes holding a mix of desire and affection. "And you're soon to be my wife." She pointed out softly, her hand cupping your cheek gently. "Together, we shall rule the empire. Let them talk. Let them speculate. All that matters is our love for each other."

Her mouth moved to capture yours in a deep, passionate kiss, her tongue gently probing past your lips as if to emphasize her point.

Your hands on her shoulder to stabilize yourself from the force she let out, making you lean back slightly when she kissed into you hard on the mouth.

You felt her hands sneak to your hips, bringing you over to her lap. You moaned gently into the kiss as you felt your clothed core rubbing onto her thigh with a groan, furrowing your eyebrows at the contact. She snakes a hand to your under your uniform's skirt that she customized for you, and onto your thin underwear. Kuvira was almost surprised you already took your shorts off when you got back to the tent. She reaches to the thin fabric and pushes it to the side so your wet slick could rub against her clothed thigh, still wearing her pants underneath you.

Kuvira's grip on your hips tightened as she felt you moan into her kiss, her fingers pressing into your skin with possessive need. She guided your movements on her lap, gently rocking you against her thigh so that you could feel the heated friction building between your bodies.

She withdrew slightly from the kiss, just enough to speak in a soft, husky voice. "Is this what you wanted, my love? Feeling me beneath you, making you feel good?" She asked lowly, looking right into your face to admire how you had your face molded into a lewd expression.

You nodded, your lips parting open as your hips rocked on her thigh. Your hips circled on her lightly, and then moved back and forth. You let out a shaky sigh, biting your lip softly and threw your head back at the friction and how Kuvira had flexed her thigh against your wet slick.

You felt her hand grip on you chin, making you look back down at her. "Kuvira..."

Kuvira's eyes darkened with lust as she saw your expression, your head thrown back in pleasure, your breath escaping in shaky sighs. Her fingers moved to trace over your skin, their touch possessive yet soothing.

"Yes, love?" She whispered, her voice husky as she guided your hips with her own movements, helping you feel the friction building between your bodies. "Do you want more?"

You nodded with a moan, rocking your hips even more with a whine. The fact the both of you were doing this in a tent in the Earth Empire army camp made it seem shameless.

You felt her fingers enter your mouth, poking at your throat. You didn't even notice her removing her gloves at all, too distracted at grinding your hips onto her. She felt your lips around her long fingers, sucking on it gently as you continued with your hip movements, muffled whimpers were let out.

Kuvira felt her breath hitch at the sight of your mouth wrapped around her digits, the feel of your tongue as you sucked gently at her skin sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes darkened with desire as she watched you move against her, the sound of your whimpers fueling her own need.

"That's it, my love," She whispered, her voice thick with lust. "Take your pleasure. I want to feel you shudder in my arms."

You swirled your tongue around her fingers, equally as aroused. You rubbed yourself against her even more, feeling the knot tying harder inside your stomach as you humped like a dog in heat. A muffled whimper was let out against her fingers, sucking on it as your hips moved faster, feeling her other hand grip onto my waist.

Kuvira's breath came in shallow gasps as she watched you grind against her, the sight of you riding her thigh driving her to the brink of madness. She couldn't tear her eyes away from your mouth as you sucked at her fingers, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. Her free hand trails themselves onto your beautiful mounds, groping and squeezing them intimately.

"You're so beautiful," She moaned, her voice low and husky. "You're driving me insane. I need to taste you." Her thumb caresses your cheek gently, fingers still deep down your throat.

After Kuvira had said that, you were pushed down onto the tent's ground, her fingers sliding out of your mouth, your core throbbing before you could even release. You whined at the lack of friction, watching as she hovered above you once more and lifted your skirt up to look at your soaked underwear.

"You already look so delicious like this." Kuvira gave a low, sinful laugh at the sight of your soaked underwear, her hands possessively sliding them down your legs before discarding them aside as she squeezed in between your spread-out thighs. You softly blushed at her words, panting heavily from the way she pressed your legs to your chest, folding you in a completely lewd way with her hands behind your knees.

She could smell the heady musk of your arousal in the air, and she knew that she would soon make good on her promise to you.

"I can't resist the sight of you like this," She murmured, her fingers dancing along the inside of your thighs. "Completely at my mercy. I could devour you right now."

You moaned at her words, biting onto your thumb as Kuvira had dug into your pussy as soon as she said that, tasting and flicking her tongue almost immediately. Your legs moved in the air, shaking lightly as they were spread open even more for more access. You let out low whimpers, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as to attempt to muffle your sounds.

Kuvira relished in the feeling of your body shuddering under her touch, the taste of your arousal only fueling her own. She withdrew her tongue, looking up to watch you try to muffle your moans.

"Don't hide those sounds, love," She whispered, her voice low and possessive. "I want to hear the effect I have on you."

"They'll hear us again—..!" You tried to reason, but was interrupted by a moan as you felt her finger rub on the sensitive bud.

Kuvira chuckled, the sound low and sinful. "Let them hear," She murmured, her fingers circling around the sensitive bud expertly. "Let them hear how you feel under my touch. How you shudder and tremble. Let them envy what I have."

She lowered her head, her mouth finding your desperate clit almost instantly, her tongue flicking against it. Your voice grew louder each time she says something so... scandalous like this. You dug your fingers into her braided hair, burying her head deeper between your legs.

Kuvira moaned softly against your skin, the vibration from her voice sending a shiver of pleasure through your body. She could feel your fingers digging into her hair, your body responding instinctively to her ministrations.

"You taste so sweet," She murmured, her tongue delving deeper into your core. "I could stay here forever, listening to you whimper and moan for me."

You let go of her hair and gripped onto the pillow right next to your head, her words reaching straight to your core as you released intensely into her mouth, practically squealing into the back of your hand, breathless.

Kuvira lapped at you hungrily, savoring the taste of your release as she made sure to wring every last bit of pleasure off of you. Her hands gently held your trembling legs steady, her fingers rubbing soothing circles over your skin as she helped you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

She finally lifted her head, her eyes dark with desire as they met your flushed cheeks. "That's my good girl," She murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction.

As soon as you thought it was over, she pressed your legs against your chest again, making you stay in place as she fumbled and took her pants off. You watched intently as she took the metal rods on her uniform, using metal bending as it turns into a...

"You're going to use... that?" You asked nervously, pointing at the metal toy she created on her hand. You watched even more as she strapped it on, acting as though it was her own genital.

Kuvira watched your gaze, a mischievous smirk on her lips as she noticed your nervous reaction to her creation. She could see the anticipation and curiosity in your eyes, along with a hint of shyness.

"Oh, don't worry, my love," She said, her voice filled with reassurance. "I promise I'll be gentle. It'll feel good, trust me."

She leaned in closer, her hand gently stroking your hair. "Do you want to try it?"

You nodded almost immediately, your core already throbbing in anticipation as you felt your stomach flipping inside at the thought. "Since I made it myself—I, too, can feel you through this toy." Kuvira says she pins your legs to your breasts, getting ready to enter.

You eyes widened slightly at the information, getting ready to what's about to happen as you watched her aim metal toy to your already-abused entrance with her hand, sliding over the wet slick to have it lubed up with your own natural fluids.

You grumbled softly, whining as she entered slowly, making sure to adjust in time. You whimpered as she entered entirely, making you a bit breathless, closing your eyes.

"Does it hurt?" Kuvira asks, leaning down to give you a caress on the cheek and a caress to your stomach soothingly.

"A bit..." You replied, calming yourself down at the new feeling.

Kuvira groans a bit, feeling everything the toy could feel. You moaned lowly at the sight with her buried inside you and nuzzled deeply.

Kuvira gave you a moment to adjust, her fingers caressing your cheek softly as she whispered reassurances to you, telling you that you were beautiful and good to her. She could feel the faint throbbing of the toy inside you, and it sent a surge of pleasure through her body, making her groan softly.

"You're doing so well, my love," She whispered, her voice filled with admiration. "You feel incredible. So tight and warm."

You moaned at her words, signaling her it was fine to move now. You felt her move, in and out slowly just in case you felt any pain. Once she noticed your legs wrapping around her waist, she took the hint and moved faster, making you rock back and forth from the force as Kuvira had her hands on my knees, keeping them open.

Kuvira continued her movements, the feeling of the toy working inside you sending waves of pleasure through her body. She listened to your sounds, how your breath deepened and your moans grew louder, and she knew that she was giving you the pleasure you craved.

"You're so beautiful like this," She whispered, her voice filled with adoration. "I'm the only one who gets to see you like this... the only one who gets to make you feel good. You're all mine."

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and gasps as they moved together, their bodies perfectly synced. Kuvira's eyes were fixated on your face, watching every expression of pleasure that crossed your features. She wanted to make you feel good like no one else could.

You felt as her hands had moved my legs over her shoulder, pounding deeper and deeper with her thrusts.

All you could do was hold onto the headboards, your body rocking back and forth onto the sheets under her, your breasts moving against the rhythm as your body folded under Kuvira's hold. Your eyes rolled back, lips parted open.

The bed was creaking, both of your voices loud enough to escape the tent and for anyone who passes by. You bit your lip, feeling ecstatic and pleased. Kuvira's pace increased, her breaths coming in sharper gasps as she chased her own release. The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the tent. Skin-slapping echoed and moans filled the air around the two of you.

"Don't hold back, my love," She whispered, her voice strained with pleasure. "I want to hear you scream my name."

"Mmh.. Aah- Ku- Kuvira!" I managed to let out, my voice loud enough and shaky from the harsh movements against me, feeling her pound into me like an animal.

Kuvira's breath hitched as she heard you call out her name, her movements becoming rougher and more desperate as she tried to bring you to the edge. She could feel her own release building, her body tensing and her grip on your legs tightening.

"Yes, say it, say my name," The Great Uniter whispered, her voice low and husky. "I want to hear it, over. And. Over."

The sounds of skin slapping and wetness surrounded the huge tent, heat raditating off of your bodies. Kuvira's thrusts were ruthless,

"Kuvira, Kuvira—... Kuvira!" You screamed her name on each thrust, the last one being louder as your body had shook violently as you released, drool slipping out if your mouth as your eyes rolled back. You panted heavily, feeling both of your bodies come to a slow hault.

Kuvira let out a broken gasp, her body shaking along with yours as she found her release, your name on her lips like a whispered prayer. Her hips rocked gently through it, prolonging the pleasure for the both of you.

She leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle, tender kiss that made her heart soar, her fingers caressing your cheek as she tried to catch her breath. "You're so perfect," She whispered against your lips.

You felt her pull out with a delicious pop, hearing the wetness on the metal toy as she did. You looked down at it, seeing it covered almost entirely by your own slick.

"Spirits, Kuvira." You said, looking away from the metal toy she made just for this moment. "You're certainly... energetic in a way." You pointed out, blushing a bit as you closed your legs shut after she had pulled out.

Kuvira gave a husky chuckle at your comment, her eyes taking in the sight of her creation and the evidence of their passion. She sets it aside, making a mental note to clean it later.

"You have no idea, love,” She said with a small smirk, her eyes locked on yours. “There’s so much more I’d do for you, if you let me. You just say the word, and I’ll do anything for you."

"I think I'm done for the night." You sighed out in content, sitting up so you could clean myself. "So you can feel just anything with that toy you created, huh?" you questioned, remembering what she said earlier.

Kuvira's smirk widened at your question. "Anything at all," She confirmed, her tone suggestive. "I can feel every movement, every sensation, every little twitch. It's like I'm right inside you."

She watched you clean up, her eyes taking you in with a gentle admiration. "And don't worry," She reassured you. "I'll clean up the toy later. Just relax and rest, my love."

"Mhm... you went pretty rough." you sighed out in satisfaction, sweatdropping a bit as you wobbled your way back to the bed.

Kuvira gave a soft laugh as she watched you stumble back to the bed, the sight endearing. "Yes, I did," She agreed, a hint of teasing in her tone. "But you loved every bit of it, didn't you?" You laughed softly before rolling your eyes.

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uh yeah so this was just a little drabble because kuvira's got me feeling some type of way and it's just something to feed myself JAHSUAHAJA anyway i hope this was good enough?

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Worst's Chapter 358

Brief summary: CH, On, and Hong cause chaos in the Sun God Temple as Arm members. Cale's subquest gets updated. Alberu reads the forum boards.

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Sun God temple: *has a huge sun statue made of gold that radiated light* Cale: Wow. Fire AP: Gulp. Hong: They're rich- On: It's huge. Raon: Human, it's the sun! Fire AP: G-Gold… A gold sun! Super Rock: Wow. A church that makes statues out of gold and uses magic to make them radiate golden light? Fire AP: Amazing! SEW: Crazy. Wind AP: Sniff. Sniff. I want to steal it.

This scene was so funny, especially the reactions of the ancient powers. 🤣🤣🤣 Super Rock, even you?! 😂

Guards: W-Who are you! Hong: We are Arm! On: Sigh… That's right. We are Arm. CH: … *silent because everyone told him to not say anything because he can't act*

Sun God paladins: *surrounds the intruders* On: Rise, fog of chaos! Hong: I will spray the poison of chaos! CH: *still silent*

CH being silent because everyone told him not to speak due to his bad acting skills... 🤣🤣🤣

CH, On, and Hong separated from Cale and Raon in order to distract the paladins. They were confronted by Sir Boltien, a high-ranking paladin dispatched to the temple by the church's main HQ. After spreading the poisonous fog, they fled while shouting stuff like "Chaos will soon descend to this land!" 😂

Meanwhile, users were like, "Oh, a commotion? Is this a new quest?" 😂

In New World, there were 3 dispositions: good, neutral, and evil. Naturally, the Sun God church fell into the good disposition. Their temple in Breeze had a golden statue called "Tears of the Sun". This statue rang an alarm if it detected someone with an evil disposition entering the temple. And if a "great evil" entered, the statue would shed tears.

So when CH, On, and Hong first entered, the alarm rang out because they were affiliated with the 7th Evil. But when Cale and Raon entered while invisible, the statue shed tears because it recognized Cale as a "great evil". As expected of the Worst! 😂

Cale's subquest got updated, telling him to shake hands with the Chaos follower, who happened to be Bishop Selissa, the bishop in charge of the Sun God Temple that they attacked. Knowing that she would be holding a lecture in the Breeze Imperial Academy two days later, Cale planned to attend that.

Alberu's reactions at the user posts in the RPOG forums was hilarious. 😂

<New character appears in Moonlight Shadow!> A strange NPC has appeared at the Moonlight Shadow Inn, with two kittens and an egg in a baby carrier! I saw him earlier in the day! He seems to be a new NPC in the update! I'll stay until tomorrow and try to talk to him. -That new character I saw in the daytime by the square. Were you on your way to Moonlight Shadow? -Cat? Egg? Tamer? Tamer-related profession? -He's handsome. He's blond and blue-eyed, but handsome.

Alberu frowned when he read that, realizing that Cale had disguised as him. 🤣🤣🤣 But a blonde and blue-eyed Cale? I want to see fanart of that! 🤩 Of course, Cale got mistaken as a tamer. 😂

Users were also excited upon hearing about the attack on the Sun God Temple. After all, there were no known evil gods in New World. So when a God of Chaos appeared, they were all excited for new content.

But when they saw the post saying that the rank 1 became the crown prince of the Eastern Empire, the forums went wild.

Ending Remarks I found the players's reactions funny. Next chapter would be Alberu and Rosalyn entering the "Hellhole", a place where the weak and trash gathered. I guess this would be where Alberu would start his Emperor Quest?

[dailykafka]

[Under the Holy Roman Empire] the Habsburgs' biopolitics intruded harshly on Jewish family planning. According to the "Familiants Law," decreed in 1727 by Karl VI, the father of Maria Theresa, only the eldest son in each family could start his own family, and the number of lewish families allowed to live in Bohemia was frozen.

Every male Jew who did not have the rare special status of a "protected Jew" or "court Jew"—anyone who wanted to marry, have children, and bequeath something to these children—had to wait for a head of the family to die; a head of any family would do.

This is precisely what happened in Wosek (small southern Bohemian manor) in 1802. A Jew named Fischel died, and a few weeks after him his only child died in infancy. Because wives and widows could not be familiants, the spot would be assigned to someone else. A man named Josef Kafka was given the chance to purchase the right to reproduce as guaranteed by the state: Josef Kafka, the great-grandfather of the writer Franz Kafka.

— Kafka: The Early Years by Reiner Stach

[bitethedevil]

The True Meaning of Fear

Warnings: NSFW, Arachnophobia, Choking, Very Violent Oral, Abusive behaviour, Fear Play, Non-Con, Devils Who Are Deviling.

AN: I'm having fun writing more angsty and loving stuff for other characters like I mentioned in my update post, but sometimes you just got to write some fucked up Raphael stuff to clear your palate a bit. Seriously: mind the warnings. It’s…yeah…pretty fucked. I will be seeking professional help and saying some Hail Mary's to repent for my sins🚶‍♀️‍➡️Enjoy! 🫶

”Pleeease, Raphael,” she sobbed. ”It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Please what?” he asked with a smile and a soft tone that made him seem like the perfect image of innocence. “We are only having a conversation …”

She was not buying this attempt at lulling her into a false sense of security. She knew him. He had brought her to a cell in the bowels of the House of Hope. Had he simply wanted to talk, he would now have done it here.

“I will ask you again,” he said, still in that soft tone. “What did you see?”

She gave a small sob and shook her head. His yellow eyes narrowed slightly at her, but the smile stayed on his lips. He was in the cell with her too, on a chair in front of her sobbing form on the floor.

“What was it that frightened my little bird so much that she neglected all of her duties? I do so hate to repeat myself…”

Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to hold in more tears.

He had come home to find his house in complete disarray. Multiple dead debtors had laid scattered across the floor, as they had tried to defend the house against intruders. He had found her shaking in the corner of his office. A powerful fear spell had made her hide instead of dealing with the intruders or alarming Raphael.

He had been furious when he found her. He had lost a small fortune in gold and an invaluable staff that dated back to the early days of the Netheril Empire. He had yelled at her, but due to her fearful state, he did not receive the reaction he wanted. She had been too out of it to properly react to his words, so he took her here instead.

She could see from the way his tail flicked and the way he drummed his claws on the arm of the chair that he was running out of patience. She had to give him an answer.

“Death,” she lied and dried her tears with her sleeve. “I saw my own death.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards in an amused smile and gave a huff of laughter.

“Death, hm?” he repeated. “Are you truly such a simple creature? I find that difficult to believe. If death was what you feared the most, you would not dare lying to my face in such a manner. Try again. The truth this time, if you would be so kind.”

She started shaking again and she could feel her skin become clammy. She had a good idea what would happen if she told him. She also knew what he would do to her if she did not. It was hard to decide which was worse.

“Come now,” he said, his tone softer again. “You will receive no judgment from me. Is it something embarrassing? Something completely irrational? Those do tend to be my favorites…”

She remained quiet.

“Or,” he said and looked at her with a bored expression. “I could bring the Omuan dreamcatcher in here, present you to every fear known to man, and I can deduce what it is from there. I’m certain that Hope would not mind if we borrowed it for the day.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No-no. Please don’t.”

She had seen how Hope had been after her time with the dreamcatcher. She was an empty shell of a person after those sessions.

She swallowed hard and looked at the floor in front of her.

“Spiders,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve never liked spiders…”

“Ah,” Raphael said with a satisfied smile. “A classic.”

She looked around. Her skin was tingling at the thought. She was already becoming paranoid.

“When did you acquire this fear? Were you always afraid of them?”

Her hand shot to the back of her neck where she felt a tingle. Nothing. It had only been her hair touching her. Her skin was becoming increasingly sensitive.

“As a child,” she said.

“Do elaborate,” he purred with a smile.

Her breath hitched at the memory a bit.

“I was in my bed,” she explained. “I turned to lay on my back and looked at the ceiling. I saw it just before it fell down into my face.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “That does sound rather unpleasant.”

His eyes slowly turned upwards to look at the ceiling above her. She flinched and looked up. Nothing. Raphael chuckled at her movement.

“I can almost hear your heartbeat from over here,” he purred. “Such a pretty sound…”

“I beg you, Raphael,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Just please don’t—”

“Shh-sh-sh,” he hushed gently. “We are only talking.”

He leaned forward slightly in his chair.

“I am a jealous man, my dear. It’s one of my less attractive qualities, I’m afraid, but it is so. So, you must understand how it irks me to find that your fear of me is only second to that of the eight-legged vermin you seem to hate so much.”

Her hand darted up to her hair where she scratched her scalp. She swore that she could feel them everywhere, even though she knew that it was only her fear that made her feel things. For now, anyway.

She felt something hit her shoulder from above and squealed. She brushed her shoulder in a panic and swore that she felt something furry touch her hand as she did. She quickly moved her body away from the wall she had been sitting against, closer to Raphael and let out a whine. Her eyes searched where she had just sat but once again: nothing.

“Tell me,” Raphael said in an amused tone. “What do you think causes this fear of yours?”

She was practically sitting between his legs now. He ran his claws slowly over her scalp and it made her shiver in her overstimulated state. She wrapped both her arms over her head like a stubborn child refusing to let their parents comb their hair. She knew that she was pathetic, but she could not control it at this point.

Raphael brushed two claws against the back of her neck in a featherlight touch, making her flinch again. He still wanted an answer, and maybe as long as she spoke, he would not do anything. She quickly tried to construct a sentence in her scattered mind.

“I—I don’t know,” she said. “Too many limbs maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well,” he said with a mocking laugh. “I am one limb short of eight in this form. That doesn’t make you fear me any more than your eight-legged friends, evidently. It must be something else, mustn’t it?”

His claws tapped her arm in a way that mimicked a spider’s legs, and she flinched away from him. She moved back to where she was sitting before. She could see on his face that he was enjoying every second of this.

His smile widened as he unstretched one hand and snapped his fingers with the other. A fat, long-legged spider hovered over his hand, and she started crying again. She did not want to look at it, but on the other hand, if she did not, she could not know where it was. She watched in horror as the small creature clumsily and frantically tried to move in the air but could not.

Raphael studied it with a bored gaze while she pleaded for him to stop.

“Have you ever noticed how the creatures humans fear irrationally are rarely mammalian?” he mused over her sobbing. “Spiders, insects, snakes, birds…I do suppose rats and mice are an exception, but there is a theme, isn’t there?”

She had backed herself into the corner of the room. She could not get further away, and she was still uncontrollably crying.

“Cats, dogs, horses…Feeble-minded creatures, but the human need to anthropomorphize makes you believe that they are perhaps not so different from yourself. A spider, on the other hand…”

She let out a long whine as he pinned the spider to one position in the air and made it hover slowly towards her face. She screamed when it came to a stop in front of her. Its legs were still moving, but it was facing her. She could not breathe.

“It’s scared,” Raphael cooed mockingly. “Terrified, like you. Yet you cannot sympathize with it. Your brain will not let you. So much for human compassion, hm?”

He got up from his chair. He snapped his fingers, and the spider disappeared. He leaned down slightly and loosely put his hand around her neck. The claw on his thumb dug into her as he tilted her head back to look at him.

“Look at me.”

She whimpered and looked up at his face.

“Tell me, my sweet,” he purred. “What is it like to stare into the eyes of a creature and realizing that they do not work like you? That they do not have feelings in any way that you understand them? That there is nothing human in there…”

She looked into those yellow eyes of his and felt the same way as he just described.

“Terrifying…” she muttered.

“Good,” he said in a low growl, smiling at her. “Terrifying, yes.”

He snapped his fingers, and she felt something on her shoulder. She frantically tried to move away, but Raphael’s grip around her neck tightened. He pushed her head back against the wall.

“Don’t. Move,” he said firmly. “You are not leaving this cell before you realize that the only thing in this world you will ever need to fear, is me. Serve me well, and you will never have to fear at all…”

She felt the spiders furry legs move slowly over her skin. She gasped for breath as her tears started rolling down her cheeks again. She knew that Raphael would not stop this before she did as he said. His grip loosened when he saw her freeze instead of continuing her attempt to flee.

He let go of her and stood up tall to admire her pathetic state on the floor. He began unbuttoning his doublet while he watched. She felt the spiders legs on her collarbone, slowly making its way across her chest. She sobbed quietly and did everything in her power not to move.

“I think it likes you,” Raphael purred in an amused tone.

He hung his doublet over the chair. He was only in his white shirt and pants, and she could now see just how excited the whole situation was making him. His erection strained against his pants. He walked closer to her so that he was now towering above her.

He slowly tipped her head back with a claw under her chin.

She screamed but the fear had now paralyzed her so much that she could not move even if she wanted to. There were hundreds of them above them on the ceiling, and they were all the size of a palm. The scream turned into a sob as she stared upwards.

He was smiling in an almost fond way as he feasted on her terrified expression. She felt his hand cup her cheek. He wiped the tears on her cheeks with his palm, before moving his hand to his now freed member. He gave it a few lazy strokes, using her tears to lubricate his length while he watched her with a heavy-lidded gaze. He gave a content sigh.

He put his thumb and index finger on each side of her jaw with his free hand, forcing her to open her mouth.

“If I feel teeth, I will show you the true meaning of fear,” he warned.

He ran the tip of his cock over her bottom lip, smearing his precum on her trembling mouth. He pressed his cock inside and her mouth closed around it. A deep groan escaped his mouth.

“Such a good girl,” he purred with a smile.

He began slowly moving in and out of her mouth with languid thrusts. His hand moved to where the spider had nestled in her cleavage to pick it up. He gently placed it on her head, making her sob around his cock. She choked as she forced herself not to bite him. He growled in pleasure.

“We are making such wonderful progress, my dear,” he said. His voice was slightly breathier and huskier now. “I believe that you are beginning to understand… Fear does not excuse negligence.”

Her eyes closed shut as she could feel the spider’s legs on her face. She whimpered, but the sound came to an abrupt end when he shoved his cock further down her throat. He gently shushed her and caressed her tear-stained cheek with his thumb. She could not breathe.

She gagged but he did not seem to care. The sounds she made, the way her crying and trembling was making her throat feel, the way she looked so utterly pathetic: it was pure bliss for him. He suddenly snapped his fingers. She felt the spider on her face disappear. Her eyes opened and she looked at the ceiling: nothing.

She did not get to revel in her relief before Raphael started fucking her face with hard, violent thrusts. His hand clasped around her throat again in a hard grip. She could not breathe at all, and she started squirming and panicking. Her limbs flailed as she tried to get away, but her back was up against the wall. There was nowhere to move.

She tried pushing him away, hitting his legs, but he was unmovable. She looked up at him with panicked and pleading eyes, and it only seemed to excite him further. He did not cease his violent assault on her face.

“I lost a small fortune,” he growled. “All because of a frightened, stupid, little girl.”

She tried everything to move, but his grip on her only tightened when she did. Soon, she would not have the energy to fight anymore. Her throat was hurting so much. The grim thought that this might be how she died flashed into her mind, making her panic even worse.

“Nothing would excite me more than watching the life leave your eyes,” he growled as if having read her thoughts. “Instead, I think I will let this be a reminder to you, dear girl: the next time you feel tempted to let your fear control you, remember what it gets you… Nothing.”

She stopped moving and she could feel herself slowly beginning to lose consciousness. He shoved his cock as far down her throat as it would go. Her nose was brushing against his pelvis. It was painful and she felt like throwing up. He gave a deep groan as he came down her throat.

She gasped for breath when he pulled out. She coughed hard. She spat a mix of blood, cum, and saliva onto the floor in front of her as she wheezed for breath. She felt like throwing up, but she couldn’t.

When she finally looked up, Raphael was watching her with a small smile as he began buttoning his doublet.

“I trust you have learned your lesson?”

She nodded quickly. She could not stop coughing, and every cough felt swallowing knives.

“Good,” he purred. “You did well…”

He turned and opened the door to the cell with a snap. She tried to scramble to her feet to follow him out. Just as she had gotten up off the floor, he stepped outside the cell and closed the door in her face.

He smirked as he looked at her for a long moment. Then his eyes slowly drifted to the ceiling above her. Her lips began trembling again as she kept looking at him.

“Korrilla will come get you in the morning,” he said in a cold, even tone. “If I have decided to forgive you by then…”

There was the softest thud as she felt something land on her shoulder. Then another on the floor. Then another as she felt something fall off her head. Then another.

There were no more tears in her, and no screams came out of her ruined throat. Just a quiet, broken wheeze came out of her mouth as she looked upwards.

[critrolesideblog]

AO3

"Hi, Yussa!" Yussa paused, fork suspended in midair, as the voice of Jester Lavorre flared into his mind, sudden and bright, but not at its usual break-neck pace. There was a slight pause as she considered her words. "Caleb wants to send a friend through your teleportation circle tomorrow… Friend is from Xhorhas… just passing through… Caleb casting - that okay?" He heard a note of triumph in her voice as she managed to complete the question within the allotted word limit. From Xhorhas… It was not every day he had visitors from Xhorhas, and for Caleb Widogast to ask… that was intriguing.

"I may be amenable to that, so long as Widogast is not handing out my teleportation coordinates to whomever requests them."

"He's not." The reply came so closely on the heels of his own that she must have started casting before he completed the thought. "He really wanted me to stress that. Great! Esssss- our friend will message you when he is on his way. He's cool! You'll love--"

"Very well," was all he replied, and as the spell released, he felt a reverberation of annoyance at his failure to use up the space allowed. He smiled to himself as he retrieved his fork and called to Wensforth to clear his schedule. Tomorrow promised to be an interesting day.

---

"Well, we should get on with it I suppose," Caleb said softly. His breath was warm against Essek's ear as he squeezed him tightly one last time, and Essek breathed in the now-familiar scent of him -- woodsmoke, incense, leather, parchment, Caleb. Essek knew he was right. They had delayed long enough as it was, lingering on an outcropping of rock, sheltered from Eiselcross's fierce winds and bitter cold by Leomund's Tiny Hut. Caleb had important things to get to in the Empire, and Essek should not keep him from them. But he indulged in his selfishness a moment longer, keeping his grip around Caleb firm. He was the stronger wizard, by a hair, and Caleb did not resist the embrace. Instead, he leaned his cheek against Essek's for a breath, and then offered a kiss there in exchange for his release.

"I suppose so," Essek agreed at last, keeping his hands in touch with Caleb's form until the very last brush of fingertips against fingertips as he slipped from his grasp and crouched to begin drawing the teleportation circle.

Essek turned away from the sigils being drawn and looked out over the icy tundra. The day was fittingly grey and dreary, the sun a weak suggestion of a glow through the haze of snow on the horizon. He pulled a copper wire from his pocket, stretched it, condensed it, collapsed the distance between his voice and its intended recipient: "Hello, I hope I am not intruding. I will be arriving in one minute."

"Thank you for the warning," replied an unfamiliar voice, sounding pleasantly-surprised. "I will be waiting."

Curious.

"He sounded surprised to hear from me," he called back over his shoulder. "That was the plan, was it not?"

"Ja," Caleb's voice sounded amused. "But our calling ahead is usually a message from a few floors up after we've already arrived."

"Ah… yes, that does sound like you."

"It's a good thing Jester is so charming."

"We will have much to commiserate over."

"Ready?"

Essek turned back to find Caleb twisting the remaining stub of chalk this way and that in his hands, the circle beyond awaiting the final marks that would complete it. He took a deep breath to steady himself and with a flourish of his hand and a murmured word cast Disguise Self. He then slipped a pearl from a pouch on his belt and held it close enough to Caleb's forehead to feel the warmth radiating from his skin but vigilant not to touch it. Caleb's clear, blue eyes looked at him with such warmth that it made him want to say foolish, selfish things about running away together or venturing into Aeor once more, but he murmured only the verbal component of the spell and took another steadying breath.

"Good luck, Caleb Widogast."

"Don't be a stranger."

Caleb knelt again and completed the final rune.

------

Disguise Self.

Disappointing.

Yussa had all night and the better part of the morning to hypothesize on the identity and motivations of his intended guest and came up with a few interesting theories. Interesting being the key word. The Mighty Nein were many things, but never dull.

He could allow that the handsome, young Drow now standing in his teleportation circle had applied the spell in a smart way: shifts to the hue of his skin and eyes and adjustments to his facial features, leaving his hair, clothes, and the shape of his ears true to form. Such small changes were harder for the untrained eye to spot. But he had to have known he would be arriving to a pair of very well-trained eyes.

The young man arranged his features into a soft, politician's smile.

"Yussa Errenis, I presume." He bowed politely, speaking in Common. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Yussa dissected his features for tells of the veracity of this statement, but even looking past the paltry illusion, he was hard to read. Good for him, he supposed. Good for his chances at surviving this side of the Ashkeeper Peaks, anyway. There was a slight shift in pitch to his voice that might have been earnestness, but he arrived in Yussa's home in a poorly-thought-out and -- more importantly -- boring disguise. He could not allow that to pass unchecked.

"Welcome," Yussa replied in High Elven to match the young man's mask (and his own). He watched his attention come to a still point on the sound of his voice as he continued at a conversational speed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And what is your name? Ms. Lavorre did not provide it." He knew high-born Drow (which he would wager his guest to be given the fine make of his clothes, if he were a gambling man, which he was) often studied High Elven as part of their schooling, but with little occasion to use it, found it difficult to converse in. It did not help that Drow diverged from High Elvish some centuries ago, influenced by Undercommon in subtle but important ways.

His eyes became sharp above his soft smile as his mind worked quickly.

"Sylmarr is my name. I'm sorry. It took me a moment to… change roads." He responded at length, accented but much more smoothly than Yussa expected, and that was interesting…. Sylmarr… Right.

"Please, come in. I have prepared tea for us."

"Ah, no. Apologies, I cannot--"

"I insist. It would be very rude of me to have you in my home and not at least provide you with tea. Right this way."

Yussa lead the way down the stairs and heard a soft huff and the rustling of a cloak behind him. Sylmarr's steps behind him on the stairs were quiet…

Imperceptible…

Nonexistent?

He glanced back. He had not paid attention to his feet before, noticing only the height of his head to be commensurate with the illusion, but he saw now there was a space between his feet and the steps. Indeed, now that he was so close behind him, he caught …

He never found a good word for it in any language. It was not a scent exactly or a taste but an evocation of ozone and burnt metal and the feeling in the back of one's skull when dizzy and about to fall. Something he hasn't sensed in a long, long time.

Interesting.

Yussa's tower contained a number of receiving rooms for guests of varying importance. The one Sylmarr was ushered into had walls painted a shade of blue that matched the midday sky outside and high windows that opened onto balconies rarely visible from the exterior but which offered sweeping views of the city, the harbor, and the ocean. Layers of finely-woven linen curtains filtered the bright Nicodranian sunlight. The furniture was made of imported, Uthodurnian maple, expensive but not ostentatious. Yussa settled into his favorite high-backed chair upholstered in a rich turquoise velvet by the tea table as Sylmarr paused by the window overlooking the city. When he turned back to the room, his politician's smile was gone, replaced by a thoughtful frown.

"So, do you think my Elvish is good enough to continue with this disguise?"

"Briefly, perhaps, but if you plan to spend much time in the Menagerie Coast, your accent is just strong enough to garner unwanted attention. I would recommend limiting its use to places further afield."

"Understood."

He sat gingerly on the edge of the chair opposite Yussa, as if it might grow a mouth and consume him if he got comfortable. Not an unreasonable fear, all things considered, Yussa mused as he poured the tea. One of the adventurers he travelled with centuries ago was almost consumed by such a creature… Talia? No, Talia, when he travelled with the Wandering Wyrd, was almost killed by a Gelatinous Cube. It was Tyros with the --

"You have lived in Nicodranas for some time?"

"For over two centuries. Before that I travelled. A little bird told me--" at three in the morning last night, when she could not sleep and decided to make that Yussa's problem "--you have been travelling yourself recently."

"A bit."

"With Caleb Widogast?"

"He speaks very highly of you."

"He is an impressive talent and a good ally."

"And a good friend."

"I have not known many high-born Drow to speak of friends."

"Well," Sylmarr retrieved his teacup from its saucer. "I have been called exceptional." Yussa was uncertain whether he actually took a sip or just made a convincing show of it. He fixed Yussa with a sharp gaze as he set the cup back down neatly. "And have you known many Kryn?"

"A few."

"You've been to Xhorhas?"

"Not for many centuries." Yet he remembered the way the wind swept across the plains, ruffling the grasses like a great, invisible hand, the dry caress of it on his cheek. The bustle of the Gallimaufry at New Dawn. The ebb and flow of song as devotees wound their way through the streets. The echoing halls of the Marble Tomes, traversed by its supplicants with as much reverence as any shining temple.

"Have you any Undercommon?" Sylmarr asked, switching tongues as he did so. Yussa smiled at the at the attempt to knock him off his game, failed though it was.

"A bit, yes."

"You are well-travelled, indeed."

"Quite. Now, back to Caleb Widogast." This elicited a small crack the genteel mask as Sylmarr's eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly. He sat back in his chair then, settling in for whatever Yussa had to say.

"What about him?"

"As I have said, he is an impressive talent and a good ally. I consider him something of a --" Student wasn't right word. Nor apprentice. "A mentee of mine, if you will. We have different arcane specialties, but I believe I have some wisdom to offer on surviving as a mage in a mercenary group, not to mention centuries worth of professional connections." Sylmarr made no response, except to pick up his teacup again with a noise of polite attentiveness. "Ms. Lavorre mentioned to me that you are an accomplished arcanist as well, and you've taught Caleb -- I believe her exact words were a bunch of cool magic." Sylmarr frowned thoughtfully for a moment.

"I taught him the basics of my discipline, but much of the interesting magic of mine that he possesses he reverse engineered." He said the last words with a huff of annoyance that had little heat behind it. "He caught up to me very quickly and has taught me some of his own discipline as well."

"You would consider yourselves peers?"

"Yes," he responded quietly, lowering his eyes to his teacup for a moment, and there was a soft, shy smile on his lips, a little awkward and, if Yussa was not quite mistaken, tender. …Ah.

"I see."

"Yes," his smile sharpened quickly into something more keen. "You need not worry about me poaching your mentee." Yussa was only allowed an instant's intimation of indignation before Sylmarr continued. "If anything, I may wish to avail myself of some of your wisdom before too long, if that is agreeable to you." Ah… well… Yussa took a sip of a tea. He supposed if he wasn't losing the ear of the rising star in the field of Transmutation that would be alright, and the proposition did present an opening.

"It is agreeable, but I prefer to know my mentees' names. Sylmarr doesn't strike me as particularly Kryn."

"Neither does Errenis Yussa."

No, it doesn't does it, Yussa mused as he took another sip of his tea. Then again, that was rather the point when he chose it. There were other considerations as well, of course. He reflexively ran the pad of his thumb against a spot on his finger where a ring had not existed for centuries. Sylmarr was watching him with a haughty expression that dared him to challenge his conclusion. He considered the merits of feigning confusion but had to ask. "What gave it away?"

"If my Sun Elvish is a little too rough, your Undercommon is a little too smooth. There are also the windows." He gestured toward the curtains. "It could be polite consideration for an expected Drow guest, but I find non-Drow's idea of dimmed daylight is often still too bright. The odds that you happened to get it just the right amount to see clearly are slim. Also, the way you have arranged your robes -- I believe it is the custom in Gwardan to arrange the front panels right over left, not left over right." It was, but it always felt wrong.

"I see." Yussa set his teacup neatly in its saucer. "In that case, let us be plain with each other." He dispelled the young man's Disguise Self with a flick of his wrist, allowing the lilac eyes, high cheekbones, stardust freckles on twilight skin to become fully clear at last. He let his own facade fall as well.

They surveyed each other quietly for a moment: two Drow in a sunlit room.

The young man bowed politely in greeting as he had when he first arrived. Yussa bowed in return, and asked "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and you are?" His persistence earned him a wry sort of grin, followed by a frown.

"I … have enemies," he responded slowly. "It may be better for your not to know."

"It is always better to know."

That earned him another wry grin and a moment's thoughtful consideration.

"Thelyss," he said at last, with a sigh. "Essek." Thelyss. Not just a noble den, but a ruling den. Yussa did some quick mental math regarding the Luxon beacon the Mighty Nein brought him, some months ago now, the level of political intrigue that would have been required for its Dwendallian sojourn, and the likelihood of Essek's involvement. Interesting. "And you?"

"Errenis Yussa is the only name of mine that matters, and the only one I have used for a long time."

Essek's lips formed a thin line, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. Open curiosity burned in his eyes. Nevertheless, he had the tact to approach his next question gingerly. "May I ask why you left Xhorhas?"

"No." Yussa replied primly, pushing aside memories of that first band of adventurers that wandered into his life (the way Dzi'an's golden eyes shone when he laughed, Anat's swagger, Maggie's sweet voice). "Not this visit, anyway. It is a long story, and I believe you have a ship to catch." Essek conceded the line of questioning with a nod.

"You're not wrong."

Yussa gestured for Essek to stand and with a word and a twist of the hand settled a Seeming spell around him, so he looked much as he did before, though with a new touch of gold embroidery to the hem of his robes. "Do you have Seeming in your repertoire?" He asked, and Essek had the good grace to look mildly chagrinned at the question.

"I do, but I wished to conserve my spell energies."

"Energy expended to avoid a fight is never wasted, young man." Essek barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the platitude, which delighted Yussa to no end, and he smiled smugly to himself as he reapplied his own facade and ushered Essek from the parlor.

"Do the Nein know?" Essek asked, pausing before the front door. "Of your… origin?"

"Not that I am aware of. I did hint once that my appearance in the Empire would cause a stir should my illusion be dispelled, but they had other, greater mysteries pressing on them as I recall. You may tell them if you wish."

"Ah, I only asked because Jester implied to me once that she thought you were a dragon. I wondered if she was pranking me, but perhaps not. Fare well." And with that, he glided out into the bright hustle and bustle of the Open Quay, melding quickly into the crowd and leaving Yussa standing agape in the doorway.

A dragon?