#jeweler tos

[keisonism]

hi!! today i bring my second tos2 oc that i thought abt like the full day yet im still unsatisfied bc thats just How i am. i stll need to draw her role icon and abilities icons. i also made up a alignment for her bc she doesn't fit as NE neither NK. neither APOCALYPSE obviously. ahem. yapping alert below if u want to check what she does. also i didn't mind reviewing abilities to see if they're unfair bc im being silly here

ㅤGeneral

ㅤㅤ／ Default

ㅤㅤFaction : Neutral

ㅤㅤAlignment : True Neutral

ㅤㅤAttack : None

ㅤㅤDefense : None

ㅤㅤGoal : Sell at least 3 jewelry.

ㅤAbilities

ㅤㅤ／ Abilities

You own a collection of dubious jewelry. Each night, you'll attempt to sell one of it to someone.

ㅤㅤ／ Potential Buyer Selection (PBS)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ& Handpicked Jewelry (HJ)

You will pick who you'll try to sell for (PBS) and the jewel you'll sell (HJ), both actions realized at day, then you'll do a harmless visit to this person at night, giving them the option to accept one random jewel from you (they can't know which jewel they're getting, but you do. they also can't know who's offering it to them). They'll be inflicted with one of the effects below if they accept.

ㅤㅤ／ Jewelry

There are 4 jewels that can be choosen to be sold. If the offer is rejected, you won't lose your jewel, but you will if it's accepted. However, you only need to sell 3 of them. All of the jewels offer only a one-day effect.

Ruby — A ruby ring that's able of incapacitating the wearer, almost like sucking their energy off. The wearer will be warned that "A sudden tiredness overcomes you. It'll be better to rest." Their ability will be blocked for the night, since they'll need rest. They also won't participate in voting or chatting, and instead, they'll be resting at home.

Diamond — A necklace of diamonds, very shiny. It's shine will cause the wearer of it to be revealed to have went out in any visit they realize. However, they will be warned before that "You realize that it might be risky to go out with this jewel on, but it doesn't seem to want to get out of you.", so they choose if they'd like to go out either way or stay at home for the night.

Sapphire — A bracelet made of sapphires. Differently from the last two ones, this one doesn't have a bad effect. Instead, it is a bringer of fortune. The wearer will be blessed with a one day basic defense and a reflective effect, hurting back one harmful visit. You'll be warned with a message saying "Someone tried harming you, but you were blessed by the jewel." If the attacker dies, their cause of death at day will be the Jewel itself, not the wearer.

Amethyst — Amethyst earrings, which also doesn't bring misfortune. Instead, the Amethyst will open your eyes, give you something like a vision. You'll randomly learn a non-revealed person's role through a message saying "You had a vision and sensed that @Player takes the role of the #Role!", only to yourself, and you'll have the info until the end of the game. You'll also have immunity to roleblocking for the night.

ㅤㅤUses : Unlimited

ㅤㅤTime : Day

ㅤㅤAttributes :

You can't sell jewelry twice to those who already bought it.

You can't be roleblocked, but you can be killed if visiting someone dangerous.

You also can't attempt to resell for those who rejected your first offer.

The jewels lose it's effects if you die.

You won't die if you don't sell enough jewels until the end of the game, but you won't win with any faction either.

ㅤㅤVictory Conditions : After selling 3 jewelry, you'll leave the town, having succeeded in life. It can sound challenging, considering your jewelry is quite shady...

[keisonism]

her hometown

Where does your character ache to return to?

[socksracoon10]

The Banter of Thieves

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x F!Reader

Jack Sparrow was by no means your friend. He wasn't even an acquaintance. His mere presence irked you, caused you to vomit overboard and wipe the drool that dabbled your chin as you spat out the lovely painting your stomach decided to spew out. The entire Caribbean sea knew better than to mess with you; you were the jewel of the ocean, the only woman to have stood for so long on your feet without ever backing down. Once your crew was outnumbered by the British officers, but you bravely traversed the seas and implied that you had more guts than your opponents. Another instance was when you managed to have stolen an artifact aboard a merchant ship that costed you a good fortune. You were the talk of Tortuga for weeks on end - added to that were rounds of free rum with jealous ladies and ecstatic men surrounding your presence.

So it was of to no surprise that upon hearing your name being tossed around like a ball, Jack Sparrow would've felt a little bit of resentment. Well, not a little - it was a LOT. He was devastated, he was hurt. How could the people trample around singing your name when HE was the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow! THE Captain Jack Sparrow of THE Black Pearl! He couldn't handle it. He just couldn't sit there and watch you swinging your arms around with the other pirates, gleefully cheering on your success. Drink after drink, he noticed the amount of rum you were being passed. Some men forced a glass to you, and though you politely declined, he noticed the way you'd give in after the third persistent person chimed in with a 'please' and there the rum would go down. It would cascade down your neck, around your breasts and find itself sloshed on the ground; Jack hated it. He hated to see the sight of pure, good rum being wasted away like that. 

When you were passed out, slouched against a sturdy chair with the glass still in your hand, Jack had tip-toed to where you sat and stood over your sleeping form. You weren't a hideous creature; he'd seen much worse on his escapades. In his mind, he couldn't fathom to understand how a girl as beautiful and intelligent such as yourself could have the nerve to be a pirate and go against him? Him? Ugh, it made his blood curl at the thought. In any other circumstances, he would've tried to woo you or played some sort of game, but clearly those options were out the window. His eyes cast over to you once again, and he caught onto the tiny sliver of shimmering gold tucked away in your shirt against your bosom. Pursing his lips together, he grabbed a small dagger and carefully used the blade to hook onto the gold's chain; despite being a pirate, he still had SOME manners. Not all of them for a gentlemen, but at least enough so that he wouldn't have to be slapped by the rest of the women on Tortuga. Two was enough for him at the moment. Lifting the chain up into the air, his eyes flickered onto you for a brief moment; you stirred in your sleep, but not too much to indicate that you might be awake. He sighed in relief, holding the chain to the light as his eyes followed the path down to an intricately designed key. He narrowed his eyes at the design pattern, noticing a fresh emblem with the letters "C.D." inscribed. His eyes widened, bringing it closer to him. No, he couldn't believe it. How did she manage to find the key for The Cure of the Dead? Impossible! He pocketed the key, grabbing the glass of rum from her as she whined in her sleep. Chugging it down, he let out a hiss as the liquid flowed down his throat and marched out of the tavern with a new mission set on his mind.

"I'm going to cut off that dirty bastard's prying fingers," You growled, seated firmly in the cabin of your ship; when you had woken up after, you already knew what must've happened when the gold chain was missing and you cursed every God that existed in your mind to help you find Sparrow before he'd get his filthy, grubby hands on what you had desired. The Cure was no simple thing - no, it was not a simple little vial or a chest of wealth - it was much more. There was a certain ritual that was foretold in the legend; the one soul, after giving up four equal drops of blood, would be able to pursue the path of immortality and greatness. Your father had spent ages pillaging and tormenting anyone who proved to be an obstacle just to find the key. And now, under your possession - or well, was under your possession - you were extremely keen on protecting your father's legacy through the key, anxious to seek the glory in honor of your fearless father. At the present moment, that dream was starting to sink faster than a ship caught in a whirlpool thanks to the lovely Captain Jack Sparrow himself.

A few days had passed among the seas and your crew had slowly abandoned your ship, one by one. They knew it was going to be a very tiresome journey, but you should've known better that the slightest inconvenience would have them scuttling away back to their mummies. You cursed at them as they rowed away, swearing to enact your revenge one day if they ever dared to return to your captaincy. Your eyes shifted from them to the large island approaching your ship. You noticed another ship seated on the shore, some crewmen walking about the deck or on the sandy land. Assuming this was Jack's crew, you managed to park your vessel besides them and leaned over the deck to bellow,

"Oi! Is that Gibbs I see there?" 

The old man swiftly turned at the mention of his name, narrowing his eyes at you with a scowl.

"Aye it be, Captain (L/N)," He rolled his eyes, nudging Raggetti whose bulging eyes seemed to seep right through you. Grimacing at the sight of the skeleton-like man, you climbed down onto the beach shore and dug your hands in your pockets.

"Where is that scoundrel?" You snapped, marching forward as a hand rested on the hilt of your sword. Gibbs scoffed, 

"Bit of a strong word to use there, love," He paused for a moment, rubbing his nose before looking at you, "But if you must know, he went through the trees himself."

"Nobody else with him?" 

"Nobody else."

"Well, then, after I acquire what is rightfully man, you all will very much be welcome aboard my ship." You grinned, scanning Jack's crew.

"But we've already got ourself a captain," Raggetti scorned to which you quickly added,

"Not after I'm through with Jack, you won't."

You left the gaping faces behind as you marched into the leafy forest ahead of you. Stepping over a few roots, you noticed a distinct imprint on the mud just a few inches from where you stood; the fool must've slipped and fell on his own face. With a guttural groan, you pushed through and followed the signs among your surroundings, the very same that your father used to tell you. Remembering his tales comforted you immensely, and you wished he was here to see his little girl all grown up and ready to see the treasure he had wished for so long. He would be proud of her, he would've loved her. He would've... surely not expected to see Jack Sparrow stuck between the branches of a tree.

"Jack?" You cocked your head to the side, stepping around the tree to see his face. His features were all scrunched up as he tugged his body to the best of his ability against the branches.

"Those stupid roots!" He exclaimed in a muffled tone. He cried out in exasperation, continuing to tug himself as much as he could before shrieking, "Don't just stand there! Help me!"

You stepped forward, just about ready to push his face out but you caught yourself, hands still in the air as you raised an eyebrow, "Give me the key first, and then I shall help you."

Upon hearing your words, Jack huffed out in annoyance, "Darlin', I think there's something more important here than your stupid key. Help me, first."

"No," You hissed, "You give me the key, and then I'll help you." You extended your arm out, beckoning for him to hand over your prized possession. Jack glared at you, muttering some cursed under his breath; you could've sworn he had said "that insufferable wench" and you scowled at him.

"Listen, love... darling... sweetheart," He groaned between tugs, "If you help me, I swear I'll hand over the key to you."

"You swear? You swear on your ship?" You prodded, and unbeknownst to you, he crossed his fingers behind his back,

"Of course! Of course, my love! N-Now just g-get me out of this stupid mess!" He seethed. You rolled up your sleeves, and placed your palms against his face, beginning to apply pressure.

"Ow... ow, ow, ow, ow, that's my precious face! You're gonna mush my skull in!" Jack screamed, and your blood boiled at his ungratefulness, causing you to begin pushing harder. You tuned out his cries of pain, finally released him from the stockade-like tree, and watched him howl and roll around the dirt. You kicked the side of his body, extending your hand out again for the key. He groaned as he sat up, taking your hand to lift him off the ground.

"You idiot!" You hissed, swatting his hand away, "I want the key!"

Jack blinked a few times, biting the inside of his cheek, "And here I really thought you'd care for me."

Standing back up on his feet, he noticed the way your gaze never faltered on him. He gave a disgusted expression towards you, sauntering off towards the cave opening with a determined mission on his mind. He paused, looking back at you with your open hand for a brief moment, before instantly picking up his pace. Screaming in anger, you charged after him and hopped onto his back, tugging his locks of hair as he shrieked in pain.

"Ow! Ow! Off, off! Look, women aren't meant to pull on my hair unless we're laying in bed together!" Jack hollered.

"I'm a pirate, you oaf, I can do as I please!" You bellowed, tugging harder and steering him away from the cave opening's keyhole. He stumbled backward and stood still for a moment trying to process something in his head,

"You mean to tell me you're not a woman?" He asked in a genuine tone of voice, before gasping loudly, "You deceitful bastard! You mean to tell me you're a filthy bugger impersonating a female?"

"Are you stupid?" You snarled, completely flabbergasted by his words. Not only was he the most aggravating pirate you'd ever met, but currently while on his back, he was definitely the stupidest one you'd ever come across. Jack trudged forward, trying his best to ignore the sharp pain of his hair practically ripping off his scalp as he shoved the key into its designated home. You cried out in frustration, watching the cave slowly open to reveal the circular stage under the beam of light. Upon seeing the glory in front of you, your head poked around his hair and leaned forward, completely in awe of its beauty. 

"You know, you can get off me back now," Jack smirked, turning his head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of you. You shut your gaping mouth and hopped off him, dusting yourself of any of his filth as you walked past him. It was almost a dance in the way you blocked his path towards the light, your back facing him as your foot extended outwards and your body swayed.

"Don't be a child," Jack mumbled, stepping back and forth as he tried to find a way around you.

"Shut up, you don't even understand the value of this discovery. My father had spent ages-" You began before being cut off,

"Oh, the same old wishy-washy, swishy-swashy story. We know the legend, we know the journey (Y/N)," Jack yawned, "Your father was a thief for stealing that from Davy Jones."

"Thief? He was a pirate, if anyone's a thief you're the thief! You stole it from me when I was asleep!" You roared. Jack chuckled at your answer when you turned to face him,

"Pirate," He gestured to himself, with his eyebrows raising in the process, "It's part of the job description. And now you're a thief for wanting to steal what's mine... especially after the hell you just put me through," He moaned, rubbing his scalp, gently.

"It's mine." You hissed.

"No, it's mine," Jack stated, pointing to the circular stage.

"Mine."

"Nope, still mine, darlin'."

"You buffoon! It's mine! I get to be immortal, not you!"

"Eh, I've escaped death more times than you have, it's definitely mine, love."

"MINE!"

"Oi, don't raise your voice at me. My ears are a bit sensitive," Jack raised a finger, "Still mine, though."

"IT'S MINE, JACK!"

"Now you're just actin' like a child, be a lady... if you even are one," He raised an eyebrow with a suspicious look on his face. That was it, you couldn't take this banter any longer. You lunged forward, tackling him onto the stage as his head scraped against the rocky material. He groaned in pain as he thrashed around, rolling over you. Your elbows brazed against the ground under you and you hissed in pain before grabbing onto Jack's neck and dragging him under you.

As the fighting ensued, you both were completely oblivious to the drops of blood that seeped into the cracks beneath you. You tossed a punch at his jaw as he pulled your hair roughly. The opening of the wall behind you two was overshadowed by the insults that were thrown around with the occasional scream tossed into the mix. It wasn't until the light above you shifted towards the treasure chest meters away did the both of you stopped fighting; you lay on top of him, your head snapping towards the direction of the light as he did the same.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Jack asked, frowning.

"I-I don't know. I never really thought I'd get this far." You replied, trying to make out the sudden shift of the light. In an instant, Jack shoved you off him and bolted towards the chest. His fingers wriggled excitedly as he had a playful smirk on his face. He wrapped his hands around the edges of the chest and brought it open, only to find a small sheet of paper with instructions. That was a whole lot of build-up to nothing.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed your unconscious form slouched against a stone. He winced at the sight, carefully walking over to you. He must've shoved you too hard against the rocky stone when he flew to the chest. He glanced back down to the instructions in his hand, before looking back up to you. He took a deep sigh, realizing what he had to do.

When you had woken up, you found your head bandaged firmly. You lay on a small hammock as Gibbs stood before you.

"Aye, you aren't too much of a bad shape. It's a lucky thing Jack managed to bring you in like that." Gibbs smiled, his fingers brushing against your head. You rolled your eyes,

"Let me guess. He must've taken the treasure and run off, didn't he? He must have immortality and the greatest glory to ever exist." You seethed, crossing your arms.

"What? No. Lassie, he left you a little note before venturing off on his own to Tortuga. He's entrusted you to be Captain of the ship for the time being." Gibbs exclaimed, holding a note for you to see, "There's more to this whole shenanigan than just immortality. Apparently both your bloods were combined at the cave... meaning you both are one soul. He's gone off to search for more clues. In the meantime he wants you to rest. He seemed rather worried when we were fixing you up, and kept asking questions as to if you'd be alright or not."

Your mouth slightly parted at Gibbs' words, completely in disbelief. "He was probably making sure I was alright to ensure he'd get his share of the treasure."

"Oh, it was more than that, love," Gibbs winked at you, "I'm sure of it. I've never seen Jack like that around any other woman. Now, enough with me rambling, get your rest. You'll be having lots of more adventures with Jack Sparrow soon."

And with that, he left you with the note and you couldn't help but somehow feel your mind slowly consider Jack Sparrow as more than a thief, more than an acquaintance... and certainly more than a friend.

[gladiatorcunt]

- # 🎰 All or Nothing (Ace in the Hole) !!

cw: afab!reader, breeding, implied murder, inaccurate fallout au (vault inspired by Fallout 76 bc i just wanted one mention of appalachian horror vibes), reader lowkey has a old man fetish (mentions of age gaps though no specific men are mentioned), childhood best friends to strangers to lovers (forcibly), future extreme dubcon, fallout typical sexism and expectations & creepy behavior (attempted grooming (?)), biblical undertones, ambiguous time period, implied southern setting & characters, unedited

1k event / commissions

It’s been so quiet for ages now, deathly silent as if everyone in the world was perfectly sound asleep. Your world consists of metal tunnels buried deep underground, a myriad of dark rooms that are meant to simulate the life you’re supposed to have on the surface. A cafeteria, where there’s hearty chuckles and playful ribbing over food even astronaut’s would have turned their noses up at. Piles of meat the same color as a fresh corpse, slightly moldy cheese and bread on the days the ego maniac people in charge are feeling fancy.

Green Houses, meeting rooms, infirmarys, kitchens, breeding rooms bedrooms, you truly have it all in vault 426. Jewel of the Texas Commonwealth. Even the howling coming from above like a hailstorm can be soothing when you have nothing else to listen to. They say your name when your back is turned, when they know you can’t venture out to see them. The temptation has driven people mad before, it will again. Right now, you wander through the vault searching for any sign of life. Yesterday you were arguing with your Ma over what she had done, hitching your wagon to one of the few unclaimed men your age. Now you were wishin’ on stars the elders used to talk about seein’ that you would peek around the rusting corner to find her waiting. You don’t want to wonder why there’s blood on the wall, varying between bright and darker shades of red.

Not a single peep from the man you were meant to marry, ‘your last chance at a proper purpose’ Pa had said. This vault wasn’t strongly steered in the direction of being a hive for breeding, but in these uncertain times more pairs of hands ready to rebuild the world were more than encouraged. Seeing as this bubble of refuge from the acid sky was so precious, every life counts. You knew that future would be yours someday, and you didn’t really mind. It got boring occasionally in the vault, knitting the same garment again and gossiping with your Ma’s friends about the same subjects. Maybe a cock in your cunt would settle your nerves, caring for a baby would be a task that would never end.

The wedding was supposed to be today, at noon on the dot. You overslept, panicking when your kitschy alarm clock didn’t rouse you from your dreamless sleep. It wasn’t until you zipped up your blue and yellow suit and tip toed outside of your room that you truly felt afraid. What reason would you have had to feel the uncomfortable emotion before? Life was so serene and idyllic nestled in the dirt, your vault a poor man’s sword in the stone. An intoxicating comfort zone that you cared more about staying in than fighting against, though there whispers from dwellers who felt otherwise. Your childhood friends, Patrick and Art, who you have drifted apart from over the years.

It was childish, your past feelings of jealousy, it wasn’t hard for them to become the most eligible bachelors in the community. There were only a handful of single young men left these days, or your only option was a old timer who had already broken in quite a few wives. They have the chipped belts and rough hands to prove it, you’ve gotten a rush of fluid in between your thighs when you lie awake and think about it for too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too terribly awful if you got saddled with a stern older man, some beaten down part of your brain begs for it. Your Pa’s buddies used to say that they would bet good money on tight your velvet grip would be.

There were many invitations to sit in on their blackjack games left unanswered in your Ma’s nightstand, under brass lock and key.

But to see your friends be giggled and fawned over made your stomach churn, so you pushed them away and focused on living as any good dweller would. Preparing to spend your years with your lips frozen in a smile and your holes split open around wrinkly skin, your shape molded by your husband. If you could’ve known that that would only make more determined to prove their toughness to you, that they would be the hands clasping pearls around your neck and slamming their dicks into your untouched flesh.

“Aw, hell-” A deep voice gasps and grabs ahold of your fore arms, wrestling you into an abandoned bedroom as you walk past.

You squawk, flapping your arms around in an effort to fight. Then you see him, Art, smiling gently and reaching out to cup your tear covered cheek. His other hand is free, which means that the man restraining you has to be Patrick. Where one is, the other will he close behind. There’s a saying about smoke and fire, and you hear the crackling embers as Art gingerly slides his other hand around your neck. A new fangeled set of pearls, hard won and all yours. Call it an engagement present.

“There you are, Angel Face, we were so damn worried about you.” Art coos, the ‘damn’ hissed in a way that gives off a ‘I still haven’t got used to being allowed to swear’ impression.

You think he could the be the angel, a scythe discarded in favor of a well used hatchet lying on the floor. His blood splattered curls call to you, or the absurdity of the situation must be sinking in and overpowering your ability to accept reality. Of course you had sensed their hungry eyes burning holes into your soul, yes you had heard the shuffling and muffled shouts outside your door. The way it would creak open when you were believe to have succumb to slumber. You don’t feel bored, and that’s enough of a thrill for you to recognize where your new place in the food chain is. The bottom.

“I don’t- I- What’s goin’ on? Where is everybody?” You ask, stupid and content to be their lover in distress.

Patrick readjusts his hold on you and wraps his arms fully around you, spinning you around to come face to face with him. If you thought Art looks drenched in blood, Patrick appears to be made of it. There’s lightning in his eyes, a phenomenon you’ve only heard and never seen. But this must be what it’s like, electrifying and God given. You’re stained now, no doubt about it, visibly and in your spirit.

“They went nuts, like a bunch of rabid dogs.” He grunts. “We had to defend ourselves, had us out here runnin’ around like headless chickens because you were gone.”

You weren’t brought up to know much, except that animals will be animals and man reacts accordingly. Patrick’s words make about as much sense as anything ever could, and you’re desperate to believe whatever yarn they have to spin you. Art nods and saunter up behind you. He wetly pecks you on the cheek, his lips ‘Smack!’ing the plump skin as he pulls back. You gasp and they share a foreboding laugh, shoving you further down a long dusty hallway where you can pretend that nothing bad has ever happened to you. That your Virgil and Dante followed after you with innocent intent.

“Get ‘em in the stirrups, Pat. Need these legs spread nice and wide. Don’t we, sugarpie?”

Your heart drops and floats back up at a jackrabbit’s pace, “W-what?”

Your look over your shoulder is perfectly timed, your hair framing your face like a pre-war Hollywood starlet. The kind that could cry at the drop of a hat and deep throat a stuffy executive’s cock in one go. Simmering heat pools in your belly, every circle of hell seemingly setting themselves aflame in your body. And while you know they wouldn’t dare seriously terrify you, they would probably get a kick in their pants if you let a sliver of fear slip. They’re men who no longer have a societies rules to wear as if they were costumes after all, perfectly chiseled faces and painted masks.

Offering you a marriage license so they plant you in a gilded cage, but Midas ghosted his fingers along your roots years ago. When you stumbled in on two boys playing a game that used to be popular in the pre-war days, a yellow-green fuzzy ball bouncing on a wired net racket. You giggled when an elder scolded them for staging their challengers match in the hall. And with the sound of a bell, the walls came tumblin’ down.

Patrick’s grin writes your name on the dotted line, “Our pretty lil’ cock socket, we’ll repopulate in no time at all.”

They had already stolen your wedding outfit that same day way back when, slim pickings have to be snatched up in this dog eat bitch world. But they were something far above dogs with malleable forms and a blunter bite, they were opportunists and God always has his eye on those who can seize what he provides.

The House always wins.

- 2024, do not cop/translate/feed my work to ai

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 6

Hey, all! This story is finally picking up and we meet Eddie for the first time.

This is an extra long chapter because I wanted to have the gala all in one chapter instead of splitting it up.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Steve woke up to his best friend having planned the perfect date with Vickie. Today was already looking up.

“I told you she would say yes,” he told Robin smugly as he poured himself some orange juice.

Robin waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Mr Smarty Pants over there.”

Steve wiggled his ass at her and then sat down on the sofa next to her.

“So what’s on my schedule for next week?’

Robin pulled up his schedule again and hummed. “Looks like all you have is next Saturday; a charity gala for the arts on the arm of Senator Derek Lombard.”

“He’s always nice,” Steve said. “A little hard of hearing most of the time, but always just wants someone pretty to hang off his every word.”

“So an easy night for you then,” Robin said.

He hummed his agreement. “So what’s all that the event is about? Can I use it to network? Or will it be all politicians with sticks up their asses?”

Robin pulled up the event on her tablet. “Looks like it’s a fundraiser for putting music in poor neighborhoods as a way to combat gang joining and shit like that.”

Steve sighed. “Sounds like my worst nightmare. Classical music sounds like noise to me most of the time. It always puts me to sleep.”

“Then you’ll like this,” she said, scrolling through the list of guests. “The charity is the pet project of Corroded Coffin frontman, Eddie Munson. Apparently he was ‘trailer trash’, his words, and got out of the slums through the power of metal and rock music.”

Steve straightened up. “Shit. Is that that band that Dustin loves?”

Robin tapped something on her tablet and scrolled a bit. “Yep!” she chirped happily. “He is going to be so jealous when he hears you might get to meet him.”

He ran his tongue over his top row of teeth thoughtfully. “Yeah, okay. This sounding more interesting.” He tapped his lips. “If it’s his charity then it will likely have younger alphas there that I can network and get on my client list.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “Especially rockstars. They tend to just hop in bed with any willing omega or beta if an omega can’t be found to service their ruts.”

Steve licked his lips. “Bring over a small stack of business cards to take with me. Also does Senator Lombard have a style of clothes he wants me to wear?”

Robin skipped back to his schedule and pulled up the appointment. “Uh... it looks like he doesn’t have a preference just something ‘elegant’.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Steve asked with a glimmer in his eye.

“If I am you might need to keep some heart medication on standby,” she said with glee.

“Oh good,” he grinned. “We are thinking of the same thing, then.”

****

Steve didn’t often wear dresses because he hated playing into the stereotype of male omegas being the women of the secondary genders. But this was his favorite outfit bar none.

It was a backless gold dress with a low cut front in a drape that showed off his bare chest. He kept himself as shaven as he was in high school on the swim team. Something that Tommy mocked him mercilessly for. But it made getting in and out of clothes easier, so Tommy could suck it.

The dress went all the way to his ankles and was split up the middle of each leg to show off his toned thighs. He wore jeweled open-toed kitten heels with a Grecian style strap down the middle. He wore a bangle on his left wrist and a charm bracelet on his right. The necklace and earrings matched, a wide gold setting with a single diamond in the center. And then to crown the whole thing off, he had diamonds glued to the strands of his hair so when he moved the light would catch the diamond and shimmer just so.

Senator Lombard was speechless when Steve walked down to the lobby of the hotel he was picked up from. Again for his safety that no one knew where he lived.

In his hand was matching gold clutch and over his shoulders in liquid waves a shimmering gold shawl.

“I am the luckiest man tonight,” Senator Lombard whispered as he took Steve’s open hand to guide him the rest of the way down the stairs.

“You flatter me, Senator,” Steve replied demurely looking up at the alpha through his eyelashes.

“And you honor me with your presence.”

Steve blushed and allowed himself to be led out to the waiting limo.

****

Senator Lombard was the talk and envy of a lot of people at the gala. Women hated the way Steve looked better in his dress then they did in theirs. The men were seething jealousy that Steve wasn’t on their arm.

The senator was a distinguished older gentleman of the old style of politics. Calm and collected in public, a conniving, calculated negotiator behind closed doors.

And he showed that strength here. Everyone was tripping over themselves to introduce themselves to him just for the pleasure of being in Steve’s company.

They had to know how Senator Lombard could afford such beauty and grace, so much so that Steve had run out of business cards before the appetizer was even brought out.

The only ones that stayed on the outskirts of Senator Lombard’s aura of influence was the members of Corroded Coffin.

They were dressed like the rockers they were. Lots of black clothes, jewelry, and eyeliner. Their tattoos and piercing further pushed them outside of the rest of the people at the gala.

People who despite being invited by the band were giving them a wide berth. Which was ridiculous in Steve’s opinion. One thing you must never be: is rude to the host.

Steve broke off from the senator and turned to make his way toward his hosts when there was gentle tap on his shoulder.

He turned around to see the prettiest of the band standing in front of him. He had long dark curls, deep soulful brown eyes, and dimples for days. Steve was smitten.

“You dropped this,” the man said, holding out his hand.

Steve opened his hand and a diamond dropped into it. He tucked his clutch under his arm and touched his hair. Sure enough one of his diamonds was missing.

“Thank you!” Steve cooed. “I don’t want to lose that!”

The man smiled and the dimples became more pronounced and Steve was close to swooning.

“I’m Eddie,” he said. “Eddie Munson. And who might you be, darlin’?”

Steve blushed. “Steve Harrington.”

Eddie’s eyebrows twitched upward. “A Starcourt escort in my house. I’m honored.”

Steve looked around the large foyer. “This is your place? It’s beautiful.”

Eddie smiled deeper. “Thank you. Now where were you off to just now?”

Steve giggled. “On my way to see you, actually. I’m not a fan of people being rude to the hosts. Regardless of who the hosts are.”

“Even if you disagree with their beliefs?” Eddie asked, a glint of mischief in his eye.

“I don’t go to those,” Steve replied with a wink.

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “I wasn’t aware you had that much control over your clientele.”

“Maybe not to start with,” he said with a shrug. “But as one of my friends pointed out recently, when you’re one of the top ten paid escorts you have a lot more leeway.”

Eddie blinked those long eyelashes and Steve was captivated. “That’s fair. And you deemed my little shindig as worthy? I’m doubly honored then.”

“Well...” Steve murmured tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, “more like my handler, Robin. But she knows what I like.”

“And you like heavy metal?” Eddie asked, amused.

“More like good causes and deserving people.”

A waiter passed by and Eddie grabbed two champagne glasses from the man’s tray. He held one out to Steve.

“Oh,” he murmured. His hands were occupied. He hurried to put the diamond into his clutch and tucked the clutch back under his arm. He then took the drink. “Thank you.”

“That dress suits you,” Eddie said, licking his lips slowly.

Steve ducked his head a blushed. “Thank you. It’s my favorite dress.”

Eddie smirked. “I didn’t know you were allowed to wear the same outfit more than once.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Not normally, no. But the key is to change up the accessories and chose a different setting. The last time I wore this dress was for dinner with a client. Some quiet upscale restaurant where privacy is key.”

Eddie looked up and down Steve’s body. “You certainly fill it well.”

Steve smiled. “It’s more fun to get out of.”

Eddie nearly choked as he was taking a drink of champagne when Steve said that. Steve rubbed his back soothingly as if he wasn’t the one that caused the distress in the first place.

Steve tapped the back of his neck. “There’s a little clasp right here. Just unhook and dress just slides right off.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and Steve could tell he was imagining it.

“Escorts are great for all sorts of things. Dinner with family you want to impress. Casual conversations and movies nights for the rich and the lonely. Arm candy for charity events like this one. Not all my clients are in it for the sex.” Steve patted Eddie’s arm and then down the rest of his champagne. He put his glass on the tray of a passing waiter and went back to Senator Lombard with a cheerful wave over his shoulder.

****

Jeff came up and clamped a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “That was the most embarrassing display I’ve ever seen. If this was a Looney Tune, your tongue would be dragging on the floor, man.”

Eddie pushed his friend playfully. “Shut it, Jeffey.”

“No, seriously, man,” Jeff said. “I haven’t seen you get that tongue tied with someone you were interested in since we got our first record deal.”

Eddie sighed. “I really should have known better than to come to a gun fight with a knife.”

Jeff laughed. “Yeah, man. Escorts are trained socializers. You didn’t have a chance.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anymore beautiful then him in my life,” Eddie murmured. “And I’ve dated rock goddesses, super models, and A-list actors and actresses.”

Jeff hummed. “He’s certainly something, that’s for sure.”

“God,” Eddie huffed. “He even gave an in with hiring his services if I wanted and all I could do was stare at him slack jawed and stupid.”

Jeff pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it. “Well according to Starcourt’s website they offer all sorts of services. Gang bangs, threesomes, roleplays, rut servicing. You could throw a dart at a dartboard and each section would be a different service they offer.”

Eddie bit his lip. “Fuck, there is no way they’d let him service my ruts. I’m a blocker buster.”

Jeff winced. “Yeeeaaah. The last time you spent your rut with someone, they went into heat almost immediately. A fun time to be had, sure. But that guy could have gotten pregnant and you would have been on the hook for life.”

Eddie grimaced. “It wasn’t that fun if I’m honest.”

“They would absolutely whisk him away the second he even scented wrong.”

He nodded. “Looks like all I can do is dream and maybe beg to see if they’ll let me take him out to dinner.”

Jeff just shook his head. His friend was hopeless.

****

To say Steve felt smug would be an understatement. Not only did his little interaction with Eddie Munson fluster the alpha, but it spurred on everyone else to stop treating their hosts like they had the plague.

Suddenly there was a sea between him and Eddie and for now that was fine. It had been a long time since an alpha’s scent overwhelmed his senses.

Eddie’s scent was warm like cardamon and cinnamon. Like a hot drink on a cold winter’s day. Steve felt engulfed by it. It took every ounce of will power and training not drop to his knees right then and there. His actual client be damned.

But he managed to remain on his feet and walk away without Eddie knowing how close Steve had come to breaking his composure.

Senator Lombard kept a hand on Steve’s waist after that. Steve was sure he could smell the way Steve’s scent when he came back was strong and wild.

The senator didn’t know who had caused Steve’s scent to react that way, but he wasn’t going to take any chances that Steve might be swept off his feet.

Steve spent a good portion of the rest of the night, rubbing his nose along Senator Lombard’s scent gland to calm him down. Every time Steve would laugh at another alpha’s joke or talk a little too cheerfully to another omega, the senator’s scent would turn sour and bitter. And Steve would have to start the soothing process all over again.

It was starting to get annoying and Steve was seriously thinking of putting the alpha on his black list for it. The fact that Steve came back should have been all the assurance the alpha needed that whoever had got Steve hot under the collar that they weren’t enough to keep his interest. But no. Steve was beginning to suspect that he was just a bitter old man.

Steve was given a moment’s reprieve when the senator was pulled aside by another senator that wanted to talk about co-sponsoring a bill on the Hill.

“God,” the omega woman Steve was talking to said. “I couldn’t imagine doing what you do. The heavy duty scent blockers, the spending your heats alone, the birth control. God the birth control alone must cost a fortune.”

Steve gave an awkward laugh. “Um, no. Omegas at Starcourt are infertile. They have to be, not just for the protection of the omega but for the alpha clients, too. Can’t have an escort blackmailing important alphas that their pup might be theirs.”

The woman pouted. “That’s so sad. Have you thought about adopting?”

Steve’s smile stayed on his face, but inside he died just a little. “I’d have to find an alpha willing to bond me first.” He said it teasingly, but he knew it was hopeless.

“A pretty thing like you?” the woman cooed. “The right alpha willing be baying for the chance to sweep you off your feet. Just give it a couple of years. You’re still in your prime. Enjoy it!”

Steve’s smile slid into something more real. He was grateful that she didn’t pity him and told him he still had time. Because she was right it. He did have time. There was no need to rush off and get bonded. He had the glittering lights, the fancy clothes, and rich food to enjoy while he was still young.

Too soon the senator had returned and pulled him away from the omega. Steve waved at her and smiled. He would later learn that she was Representative Jim Hopper’s second omega, Joyce Byers. Jonathan’s mom.

That made the encounter all the more wholesome.

****

As Steve was pulled away he didn’t notice Eddie behind him frowning.

“Hey, Gareth,” Eddie said. “You got to talk with the senator’s date, right?”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Yes, I got to talk to your crush.”

Eddie flapped his hands at him. “Shush. But how would you describe his scent?”

Gareth frowned. “I don’t know. Spicy I guess. Like Mexican hot chocolate. Why?”

“You brought an escort to the Grammy’s last year,” Eddie continued, never taking his eyes off Steve. “How would you have described her scent?”

Gareth’s frown deepened between his brows as he fought to remember. “Fruity, I guess. Sweet. Almost too sweet.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gareth pressed.

Eddie just pressed his lips together.

“You know,” Gareth said into the resulting silence. “I would say his scent complements yours.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He could only agree.

Something didn’t feel right and he was determined to find out what it was about Steve Harrington that got under his skin the way it did.

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @y4r3luv @slowandsteddie @r0binscript

[taylorswiftstyle]

2024 Golden Globe Awards | Los Angeles, CA | January 7, 2024

De Beers 'Five Line Diamond Band' - $15,900.00 De Beers 'Pear Shaped Diamond Ring' - $8,950.00 (starting) De Beers 'Darling Eternity Band' - $5,000.00 De Beers 'Dewdrop Pavé Ring' - $3,800.00

Normally Taylor would opt for a mix of jewelers (her typical go-tos are Lorraine Schwartz, Cathy Waterman, and a few others). But tonight she went full in on De Beers for all of her jewels.

In my opinion, going with one jeweler and one metal tone let the dress and all its gree(EEEEEEEEEE)n sequined glory stand on its own. The mix of slightly modern pieces here (esp those statement earrings) with timeless ones like a pear shaped solitaire and an eternity band was the right call of clean luxe.

Photos by Monica Schipper/GA and Amy Sussman via Getty Images

[mncxbe]

Hii i have a request: aku dating s/o who's atsushi's sister (he's unaware of it) and then someday he sees both together and is like "the fuck are you doing with him??" and reader is like "he's my brother, honey 😃" and atsushi's like ">>HE<< IS YOUR BOYFRIEND???" anyways, chaos

Oh damn this would indeed be chaos. A little bit of context: the reader works at an antique store so she's not really involved with the Pm or the Ada. Anyway hope you enjoy♡

°☆○

Blood bonds

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: slice of life/ silly◇

The musty, old room scent of the anitque store; tiny flakes of dust illuminated by the brilliant evening light and the endless piles of books that formed a maze inside the crammed shop were all too familiar to him. It was the nth time this month when Akutagawa came to pick you up after work, a cup of your favourite coffee in his hand.

He made his way through the bookshelves and stacks of paperbacks and leather bound tomes to the back of the shop where the cash register was and just as he took the last turn, he saw you; leaning over the wooden desk and talking with... Atsushi?

Your silvery hair caught the late autumn light, gleaming like a jewel as you tucked a stary strand behind your ear. Completely absorbed in conversation with the young man, you didn't even notice your boyfriend until he spoke up.

"Hi Y/N sorry I'm late I stopped to get you a coffee."

Your head suddenly snapped in his direction, a warm smile creeping on your lips.

"Hi there Ryu. How was your day?" you asked as you tip toed around the counter to embrace him; but before you had the chance Atsushi spoke.

"What are you doing here Akutagawa?"

The stern tone of his voice was the last drop. How dared he ask such a question? Akutagawa's brows frowned as his lips pressed into a tight line.

"What the hell are you doing here, weretiger?"

"Wait, you know each other?" you chimed in, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I shouldn't bother with the introductions then"

"What introductions are you talking about? How do you know him?" asked Akutagawa as his nails dug deeper into the calloused skin of his palm.

"Oh love Sushi is my brother"

Akutagawa's heart sank; he felt as if he were underwater, your words a jumble of muffled sounds. For a moment he stood there between you and Atsushi, completely disarmed, his gaze moving from one to another.

And then it finally clicked. The resemblace between the two of you was undeniable. You had the same eyes: your irises a hue of violet and yellow, spotted with little flakes of gold around the pupil; and almost the same lean built except you were a few centimeters shorter than him. If you weren't wearing that sharp black eyeliner, your face would be an identical replica of his.

"I- uh..." he stammered, eyes darting from one to another. "I didn't know that."

Regardless of how shocking this new discovery was he was happy that there was nothing more going on between the two of you. His tense shoulders slightly slouched, a smile creeping on his lips.

"Well love that's quite a strange coincidence." he added in a more relaxed tone.

"Love? What do you mean by love? Nee chan are you... wait are you dating him?" screamed Atsushi.

His eyes bore a shadow of betrayal as he held your gaze. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important for you to know who I'm seeing." you said nonchalantly, taking a sip from your coffee.

"Like hell of course it matters. Do you even know what he's done? Who he is? You should've-"

"I should've what, Atsushi? Gave you a phone call whenever I sleep with someone? I'm old enough to take care of myself and I don't know what the two of you have to share but please, try to get along for my sake ok? At least while we're together."

The two men blushed furiously at your words: Akutagawa was shocked by the sudden mention of your love life while Atsushi was simply embarassed.

With his gaze held down he uttered an apology.

"Sorry I just... want you to be safe"

"Trust me weretiger, that's my number one priority too" added Akutagawa as he gently slid a hand around your waist to pull you closer.

The warm smile that rose to your lips when your boyfriend embraced you was enough for Atsushi to drop the matter.

"Okay then" you said in a cheerful voice. "How about we all dine somewhere? I just need a minute to close the shop. Be right back"

With that you made your way to the backroom where you kept your keys and jacket, leaving the two men behind. Both of them were equally reluctant to accept your invitation but what could they say? If it made you happy they could pretend to get along for a night.

"Hey Akutagawa. Take care of her okay?" stated the silver haired man with a concerned look on his face.

Akutagawa only nodded. "Of course I will. I wouldn't do anything to harm her."

A smile made its way to Atsushi's lips. "I really didn't take you for a romantic, Akuatagwa"

A wave of anger took over the raven haired man upon hearing his rival's remark but before he could say anything back you emerged from the room.

"Ready to go?"

You approached your boyfriend and leaned in to place a tender kiss to his lips.

"We'll go to that place you like Ryu. Remember? We went there on our first date."

"Of course love." he chuckled, barely able to hide the blush that tinted his pale face.

Before the three of you walked out of the shop and into the busy street, Akutagawa turned to Atsushi and spoke in a hushed voice.

"Don't you dare say a word about this to anyone weretiger. Or I'll hunt you down"

[awillowdryad]

To Love Is To Be Vulnerable ~ Peter Pevensie

Okay, so I've never let anyone ever read any of my fanfics before but I've decided once and for all to take the plunge and share some of my scribbles! Hope you like it!

Just a disclaimer: This work (and the title) is inspired by a quote by CS Lewis. I just want to be clear that this quote isn't mine. I was only inspired by it. I also reference a Tennyson quote - this isn't mine either! I also drew some inspiration from That's When by Taylor Swift. :)

Summary: The Reader is engaged to Peter during the Golden Age but is facing doubts and fears over their relationship.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death

~

“Are you saying that you don’t want to marry me anymore?”

Y/N exhaled, grappling for the right words as she faced her husband-to-be. “No, I…I just…I need some time…some space…to think about all of this.” 

“Oh…okay.” He toed the floor with his boot, before lifting his head to peer at her beneath his golden fringe with such solemnity that she nearly caved right there and then. “I-I get it. I’ll still be here.”

He gave her a weak smile. Y/N thanked him and turned away quickly before he could see the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. 

She had almost reached her chambers when she rounded a corner and nearly flew headlong into Edmund.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed as they both tried to apologise at once. Then he caught sight of her face. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she gulped, “I just-” 

Unable to summon any excuse, she bolted for her door, leaving Edmund entirely nonplussed as it banged shut. 

She sank down against it, tears coming on quite freely now that she was safely alone, heart in turmoil. She didn’t even want to think about what Peter must be feeling - she couldn’t think of him - mustn’t. She knew my words had been hard to hear and even harder to say.

Y/N looked down at the ring on her left hand and twisted it around her finger, touching the large jewel set in its middle. Peter had given it to her a few months ago- on a balmy summer evening so romantic she’d swooned every time she thought about it after- before he had gone to war. Before she had experienced the agony of waiting and wondering, nights when she’d cried herself to sleep, the tears on her pillow her only comfort, unsure if she would ever see his face again, not knowing if he was dead or alive. He had promised the battle would be over in one. After three he still hadn't returned. Everyone in Cair Paravel had begun to doubt his ever returning, until he had reappeared, dishevelled and sporting a few fresh scars, but victorious.

She had managed to join in the celebrations, plastering a smile on her face that didn’t match her feelings. Oh, she was happy to have Peter back, that was certain. It had been the greatest relief of her life when he turned up at her chambers the day he returned. But now that heavenly love that had consumed her was embedded with fear.

Laying her head back against the hardness of the door, she opened her mouth and let out a sob. She loved Peter more than words. But how could she condemn herself to a life of torment, of that hideous, unbearable feeling, every time he went to war? It was unavoidable as king, especially High King. And he was a good king too; he put himself on the frontline of every conflict, every problem. But there was not a thing she could do to protect him. She would simply have to sit back and let him go every time battle called.

Peter had soon realised that something was not quite right with her after he returned. And that was when she’d had to tell him - look into his beautiful blue eyes and tell him what she was feeling. Their wedding day had been set for a date now less than three months away, but Y/N was beginning to doubt if she could face a love filled with such risk. Their marriage - once so joyful and hopeful a thought - was now tainted by these claws of fear. 

Oh, she just couldn’t face loving him only to lose him!

~

Days passed. Every morning Y/N woke, Peter’s face was conjured up in her mind. He was always laughing in the image - his face splitting to release his glorious laugh - but privately she shed many tears as she went about slowly getting ready for breakfast.

She would catch him watching her over meals, his eyes gazing upon her with an unspoken ache before she would quickly look away. They exchanged pleasantries under perfect politeness, but there was a gaping chasm between them. Yet under the guise of it all was the fact that Peter had respected Y/N’s wishes and given her the space she’d asked for, which only made her love him more. 

One morning she was sitting in the upstairs library. She was surrounded by books, but there was not a thought of reading in her mind. She simply sat, seeing but not really seeing, her mind paralysed over a golden haired king.

The door gave a familiar creak, ripping her from her inner turmoil. She looked up. It was only Edmund.

He came in silently and sat down across from her, peering at the title of the book on the table. Y/N idly returned to her misery.

“So, how long have you been sitting here pining over him?”

She started. “Pardon?”

The corner of his mouth tugged into a wry smile. “Oh come on, Y/N. We all know that you and Peter are on a slight…hiatus.”

She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. It’s just…” She studied him, wondering how much to tell. Something about Edmund always made her longing to tell him her problems just so she could get his verdict. “I’m scared that…if I marry him…one of these days he’s going to go to battle and never come back.”

She looked away, blinking hard, having never expressed it in so many words.

He was quiet for a moment. “You’re afraid of getting your heart broken?” He didn’t sound accusing, only sympathetic. 

“Well…yes. Yes, I suppose that��s it.”

Edmund smoothed his hand over the arm of his chair, forehead sporting his thoughtful expression. “You know, any kind of love holds an element of risk.” He went on. “Love requires a certain level of vulnerability.” 

“What-what do you mean?”

“Well, you can love no one and nothing, put your heart in a box and protect it from ever being broken. Or, you can be vulnerable, love without restraint and chance the danger of getting hurt. But it’s up to you to take that risk, or risk being stale forever.”

Y/N stared at him. “But…but isn’t it dreadful to take the risk -of loving someone- and then lose them?”

Edmund smiled. “But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?”

She was silent, her mind whirling. He had totally got her there. She stood and walked to the window, overlooking the castle gates. Peter was just outside. She watched him interacting with a young centaur, her heart thumping. 

And suddenly, the storm in her mind stilled. The ache ceased and the gnawing in her chest faded so at last she could feel her own heartbeat, gentle and rhythmic.

“Oh, thank you Ed!” she cried. He only smiled to himself as she bolted from the room.

She flew along the castle hallways, down the marble staircase, and out the main door, nearly colliding with a servant carrying a basket of oranges. “Oh! Sorry!” she exclaimed, helping her to right the wobbling mound of fruit, before rushing to the front gate. Peter was still there, just coming in. His head snapped up when he saw her.

Y/N ran to him, skirts flying, and threw herself into his arms.

“Oh Peter! I’m sorry! I-” she halted, suddenly realising how hard it was to talk.

He laughed, that glorious sound filling the air for real this time. “Hey! Catch your breath for a moment.”

Gulping, she looked up at him. “I love you.” It came out breathlessly. “I can never stop loving you.” 

His face lit up as he grinned. “I love you too.”

She pushed herself against him, feeling his heart beat a steady, strong rhythm deep in his chest. “It was dreadful when you were away, I can’t pretend it wasn’t.”

He hung his head. “I know. I put you through alot.” 

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Peter.” She told him, “I couldn’t stand the idea of you going to battle again. But I don’t care now. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a small price for getting to love you.” 

He stared at her as though he was mesmerised. “Are you sure? I know it’s a big ask for you to be my wife.”

She nodded, eyes gleaming as she gazed at him. “I don’t like my life without you in it. I will love you with all my heart until my dying breath.”

He wrapped his arms around her then, hugging her so hard he lifted her off her feet, his face mushed into the crook of her neck. It was quiet, barely audible, but she heard his muffled whisper. “I love you so much. Thank you for letting me back into your heart.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, unwilling to break any more contact than was necessary. “You never left it,” she whispered before she kissed him. “You have my heart always.” 

She knew it was true.

To love is to be vulnerable.

~

Well, there we go! Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think!

[unhetalia]

In contrast to my preference for soft Ivan/Alfred, I sometimes desperately want a darker Arthur/Alfred.

My main go-tos (in my brain):

Arthur accidentally/on purpose permanently harms Alfred during the American Revolution.

Alfred's realising that the American colony (aka him) didn't matter that much to England (Arthur).

ADDED CANADA BETRAYAL! Matthew and Arthur during the War of 1812 and Alfred's psychology when two of the people he's closest to choose each other over him.

Alfred's love for Arthur being unrequited. Arthur being in a public relationship with someone completely unlike Alfred that shows Alfres every day how incompatible they are.

England becoming an Empire once again and THIS time, America will be the jewel in its crown. Despite what Alfred wants. (Bonus angst: Like in the past, Matthew joins Arthur).

(As you can see this is all Alfred torture. My hobby.)

My main issue is that I still NEED a happy ending but I get so carried away causing Alfred pain that I am like. Is anyone even gonna root for this romance to happen. Or will everyone just want Alfred to run away in the woods?

[darkdemeter]

Fem Child Reader Fluff! After Mammon’s fight, S/O sneaks to grab the golden toy horse for Strife. She wonders what to do for War and gets a small bag of gems and gold. She tries giving the items to the Horsemen. Strife is ecstatic and War refuses. S/O talks to Vulgrim what to give to War as a gift and he suggests giving the bag to him in exchange for a free upgrade to War’s powers. While sweet S/O is asleep, Strife and War go to upgrade their gear and War’s surprised by the free upgrade.

GUIDE HER WAY HOME SIDE ADVENTURE: GOLDEN TREASURES (platonic) War and Strife x Female Child Reader ・1.7k words ・

You have never seen so much sparkles in your life before. Mammon’s hoard of golds and treasures beyond any imagination encapsulated you with wonder. The coins your small hands would brush against slip and rattle with a gilded crinkle that rattled like those snakes with the shakies on their tail ends. 

A platter was so shiny and clear you could make out your reflection and whilst your noble guardians talk with one another regarding what to do with the hoard, you giggle at the bulbous form in which your reflection took. Your eyes were boggly and your head warped this way and that, poking your tongue out you blow a teasing raspberry. 

“Tch, leave it,” War says as he strolls past you, his steps formed strong and resistant against the treasures that try to draw his attention. He was above it. No price or weight of gold could betray his honour. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment. Strife kneels down not to far from you, his hands grasp at the gold, nursing the shiny baubles in his palms. 

“Samael knows about this place now,” he says, “there’s probably enough here to rebuild his army ten times over. We’re good with that?”

By the way War’s gaze sears a penetrative lock onto Strife and his incessant probing and questioning, he tsks under his breath again and Strife relents. You watch, padding along behind them to hurry after them. War did not want the gold? But… couldn’t they use the glittery coins to buy things from Vulgrim? Strife stands up with an almost airy weightlessness to his motion, yet powerful all the same. 

“Okay, fine. Let’s go. But I’m taking this souvenir.” 

The horse souvenir that Strife had eyed the moment he caught it when Mammon was flinging treasures at them, attempting to buy his life with the trinkets, is proudly displayed in his hand before War’s hand jerks up. He knocks it from Strife’s hand and your eyes grow wide, watching the way it flies into the air only to fall with a harsh clatter into a pile of coins. 

Now that was just mean! You pout and immediately rush towards the horse, your hands fiddling over it in your own study. It looked like a toy. Strife must really like it and so, as their shadows wander through the opened doorway, silhouette in a blackness orbited by an imposing red of the light, you take hold of the golden horse. 

You won’t let the Horsemen leave empty handed. And so you quickly locate a sack and begin to use your arms to sweep as many coins and gems into the bag until it is so full you heaved and grunted as you pushed it up, tying the strings tightly so not a single jewel or gold piece fell out. 

“Little one,” War’s voice booms loudly and you jump, flinching as though you were caught sneaking out of your cot past your bedtime. You spin to face the Horsemen who stare down at you, their forms a powerful presence and tall. “What are you doing? We don’t need the gold.” 

You begin to babble your reasoning as you point at the sack, patting your hand on it. “You don’t?”

War shake’s his head. “Or that.” War’s single, large finger points at the golden horse tucked under your arm only barely. You shift uneasily on your own two feet from trying to support it. “But uh… mmm…” An embarrassed heat floods your cheeks and you use both arms to hold up the toy, a noise hitched in your throat like an eager giggle. Bouncing on the toed boots of your feet, you hold up the toy for Strife. 

“Strwife wants it!”

Strife’s gaze softens visibly through his helm. “Aww!” Strife accepted the horse from you with a bow of his head in thanks much to the disdain of War’s pressing glare. Strife, now hyper fixated on his precious toy, War has to be the voice of reason. 

Your name falls from his lips with a sigh and you fear you’ve upset him terribly this time. War is now at your level, the bulk of his body compressed in around himself. He peeks at you through the shadow of his hood. Your tiny lips form into a pout and your eyes threaten to well with tears. “It is kind of you, but we have no need for this… any of this. It is… materialistic.”

“Huh?” Your head curiously tilts to its side axis. “Mat… matweelistwic?”

War’s ashen brow eases at the adorable tone of your attempt to say that word. Of course you didn’t know how to articulate such a word, nor understand its deeper meaning. He offered you a faint twitch of his mouth, a small and warm smile and he nodded. 

“It is… complicated to explain. But what I mean to say is that…” Hm, how could he put it so simply in the form a child could understand? 

As much as Strife adored to have his precious golden horse toy, his brother needed a little help. Strife kneels before you as well, coming to your level. 

His taloned thumb caressed the apple of your cheek and just below your eye, rubbing away a smudge of grime. “What he’s trying to say is that… have you ever wanted something, maybe a toy just like this one, but your mother and father said you couldn’t have it because you did not need it?”

You slowly nod your head, trying so hard to understand the lesson being taught. “And so, if you were given that toy regardless of not needing it, that is materialism. Needless items in your possession. Toys and objects without meaning… purpose.” 

“I… I think I understwand.” War gives a stern nod of his head with a huff. They got that matter cleared up. His armour shifted and clattered as he stood up, the leathers twisting with coiled winding from the press and release of weight around them. “Now, come along now.” 

“But… can we keep the toy and trweasures? Please?”

War and Strife both continue to stare down at you. You were adamant. War doesn’t answer your question exactly, merely sighing again and turning away to walk out of the hoard room. With a scoff and roll of his eyes, Strife turns to you and with a simple gesture, encourages you to leap into his arm. You clutch hold of him and crawl up, snuggled there and your hands grip hold of his scarf as he then slings your collected treasures. 

“Thank you for the horse toy. I really appreciate it,” Strife says as he walks out with you. That sentiment alone is enough to have you beaming and shyly twisting your head away from him, hiding your face in the bundle of his scarf, causing the rider to chuckle. 

The Horsemen return to Samael to report their work to him and in that window of time, you decide that a certain warrior needs upgrades. “Vulgim? Vulgim,” you call out to him. The familiar jingle of chains rattling together in dark symphonies and the fluttering rustle of fabric. 

The smoke beneath him puffed out with a majestic cloud. 

“Childling,” Vulgrim greets with a coiled, intrigued sneer. His voice tried to match that same pitch as yours and it makes you grin, giggling. “I want to buy something for Wawr but… he don’t want anything. What can I get him?”

Vulgrim had already laid his eyes on the mysterious sack which laid off the side, its shape plumply round and he couldn’t deny the chinking of gold and jewels he heard from it when Strife carried it in. But he feigned to contemplate what you could buy for the red rider, tapping his taloned claws to the horn of his chin for a moment before slyly alluding to, “Well… I could take that gold off your hands and in turn, I could grant War some special upgrades the next time he sees me.” 

“Okey!” You agree suddenly and quickly with a nod. Vulgrim is almost astounded by your eagerness to accept. You must really want War to have some upgrades.

Dis kept you safe and comfortable in a makeshift nest of sorts, a bundle of blankets and fabrics that swaddled you, formed into a cushioned spot for you to sleep. Meanwhile he added the odd mixture into her bubbling cauldron. Your softly laced coos an ambience that both riders are inclined to hear constantly, for losing that sound for even a second will set them off into a panic.

“And here we are, Horsemen. Your upgrades,” Vulgrim says, tossing down the metal, diamond framed plates that harbour the energies that increase their powers, minus all the extra baubles they purchased. 

But as War moved to pay the demon who practically salivated at the deliciousness of souls War was about to offer, hands trembling in his hunger, he instead rattled his hands to shake in refusal. 

“No, no, Horseman. You’re upgrade is free.”

“What?” War almost sputtered and Strife’s head spun on a swivel, ducking back and forth between his brother and Vulgrim. “W-wait, wait— he gets a free upgrade?”

“You have the child to thank for that. A hefty pouch of gold, and exquisite gems that will fetch a fine price to other buyers.”

War and Strife looked to each other before they gaze equally turned to see you, happily asleep and wrapped up in the confines of those blankets, sleeping soundly and safe as Dis took watch over you. Occasionally her hand ghosts over your face, brushing aside some hair that fell into your nose and tickled your nose, causing your face to scrunch and eyes try to peer open, stirring. 

Your heart was… pure in your intention. It was by no design that you coveted treasures and hoards of your own back in your own world. War saw it in your eyes when you nodded slowly when Strife explained that example. 

You knew nothing of greed. It was not materialism in your heart. You only thought about the wants and needs of others. Golden treasures that could easily sway the most noble of minds could not touch you, not affect you.

Your kindness in turn was the only treasure the Horsemen found true worth in.

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos Pride Special 2024

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Pride Special 2024

            “Come on, Spock, have some fun!” cheered Kirk.

            Around the landing party, music played, and people were dancing. They were on a brief break on a Federation planet, and they had arrived just in time for a Pride celebration. Although all sexualities were accepted these days—at least in the Federation—planets who had to fight for their rights before getting it legalized to love who they loved still celebrated the bravery of those in the past.

            And, therefore, the Enterprise had ended up there due to their diverse group of officers. (Of course, Kirk had been the one to push everyone to the celebration).

            Kirk wore his Starfleet uniform but had replaced his pin for a bi-flag pin. He also wore a large grin on his face.

            “Captain, I am here in support of our crew,” said Spock. “And I engaged in ‘festivities’ last pride celebration. I fail to understand why it must be repeated.”

            “Come on, dear, it’s fun,” said (Y/N), smiling at him and looping their arm around his. They wore their pansexual pin and a nonbinary pin on their shirt. They held up the asexual spectrum pin to him. “Please? For me?”

            Spock was a softie for his spouse. “Very well, T’hy’la.” He allowed them to put the pin on him.

            Bones narrowed his eyes. “Unbelievable. You only ever do things if they want you to.” He crossed his arms. He wore a pin that said “queer,” but, in his own words, “why do I care what people think it means?” Bones thought people could either be attracted to him or not, and he’d decide whether or not he liked them after that.

            “They are married, Bones,” laughed Uhura. Her earrings had blue, purple, and pink jewels—the bi flag. “It’s expected. And it’s sweet.”

            Spock raised a brow. “How can an expression remind one of a taste?”

            “It’s a human thing,” said Kirk, clapping Spock on the back.

            “But Uhura is right. It’s nice that you and (L/N) have a healthy relationship,” said Sulu, smiling. He had a rainbow pin and had already sent a picture of the event to his husband.

            “Ah, is that what the expression means?” said Spock.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), chuckling. “And it means like we really like each other.” They kissed Spock on the cheek.

            Spock looked at them fondly, and Kirk furrowed his brow as he tried to see if Spock was smiling. (Everyone on the Bridge was always playing the “spot when Spock is smiling” game, and they always won when (Y/N) was around).

            “Okay, okay, stop being sappy,” said Bones, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to get a drink with Scotty.”

            (Scotty had already left to find the best snacks at the festival.)

            “Have fun, Bones!” said Kirk.

            “Uhura, want to dance?” said Sulu, smiling at his friend.

            “Of course,” said Uhura, smiling.

            Sulu offered her his arm, and Uhura took it with a laugh. As the music played, the pair moved to the dance floor and began to dance.

            “I’m going to find someone to dance with,” said Kirk with a grin, immediately heading off into the crowd.

            “That won’t take him long,” said (Y/N) in an amused tone.

            Kirk was very confident when it came to flirting, so he would undoubtedly take only a few minutes to find a woman, man, or person to dance with (or make out with. Or fight with. Kirk had an unusual way of bonding with people).

            “It will not,” agreed Spock. He also knew the data on Kirk’s ability to make friends was in Kirk’s favor.

            (Y/N) laughed and shook their head. “What do you want to do while they all find their own messes?”

            Sulu and Uhura would be fine—they were sensible enough to be mature and stick to their own fun—but the others were likely to find some sort of trouble or more crazy fun.

            “I know you enjoy dancing, T’hy’la,” said Spock. “I will dance with you if you’d like that.”

            “Spock, you know that I wouldn’t make you do anything that you’d be uncomfortable about,” said (Y/N). “I respect you too much.”

            “And you know, T’hy’la, that you have never made me uncomfortable,” said Spock. “I am perfectly at ease with you.” He took their hand gently. “And I am pleased when you are happy.”

            (Y/N) smiled widely. “I think Uhura is right. You are very sweet with me.”

            “If that is what humans call respecting your spouse, then yes,” said Spock fondly.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed since they knew “respecting your spouse” translated to “loving your spouse.” “I make you dance enough.”

            “No,” corrected Spock. “We dance together. And with you, it is an honor.” It was an honor to be with (Y/N). He was married to them. He adored them. He loved them.

            So, as (Y/N) beamed at him, Spock confidently moved towards the dance floor and guided them with him. The music was energetic, and he was not sure how to dance to it, but as (Y/N) jumped and twirled to the beat while holding his hand, he found himself enjoying the moment anyways.

            (Y/N) was happy, and that was enough. To the outside world, the stiff, stoic Vulcan holding the beaming, bright Celian’s hand was strange, but to them, they were happy and in love. (Y/N) loved being with Spock, and they loved having fun, and as long as they had both, they were happy.

            And Spock was satisfied—happy—with just being with (Y/N). Their happiness was his, and he loved them so deeply. As the song ended and (Y/N) laughed at the joy of the entire crowd—in flowed through their veins—Spock touched their fingers properly and let love flow from him to them.

            (Y/N) paused as their marriage bond let the love circle around their entire heart, and they smiled. Spock loved them, and they loved him. Their relationship was incredibly strong, and although some people didn’t understand that—whether due to their gender, sexuality, or cultural backgrounds—that didn’t matter. It didn’t take away from their love.

            (Y/N) and Spock were in love and knew it. That was all that mattered.

Taglist:

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[bethdehart]

Emoji Adopt: Lovely Bat

Minimum Bid: $10

Auto Buy: $20

Check replies or dm me for availability! Auction ends 24 hours after final bid, or immediately if auto-bought.

TOS and ID under cut

TOS: Once bought you can do whatever you want with them* but please credit me for the original design at least once. After purchase you will get a transparent PNG. Comment or message me to claim.

*Please do not use for racist, -phobic, ableist, terfy, abusive, n/f/t etc things

[ID: A sketch of an anthropomorphic bat woman. She is chubby, and has white fur with yellow feet, tail, hair, and tops of wings. her hair also has a pink curly stripe. She is wearing a tight dress that is hot pink with a blue heart. There are blue raindrop shaped jewels hanging from the ends of her wing membranes. She has noticeable fluff around her neck which is yellow and pink. Pink hearts occasionally dot her wings and body. Her neck fluff and tail have yellow ‘spikes’ coming out of them.]

[ensignsimp]

Yandere! Mirror! Verse TOS Kirk and Spock HCs

(Original Post)

A/N: I think I've been reading too many fan fics.

TW: Yandere, Obsession, Possession, Exploitation, Power Play, Slight (N)SFW

Prompt: Yandere Mirror Verse ABCs (Cause why not.)

James T. Kirk

GIF by giantmonster

A - Attachment: How do they become obsessed?

You fell into the mirror-verse on accident when traveling through a wormhole.

It doesn't take long for him to discover that you are not the same ensign that was previously aboard.

He finds you just as interesting as your counterpart.

B - Brutality: How vicious can they be towards a rival?

He has absolutely no problem sending anyone to agonizing torture.

If anyone dared try to get between the two of them they would be met with strict force.

You belong to him, and no one else.

C - Caring: How well do they take care of their darling?

He'll always take care of your basic needs.

If you require more he'll want something in exchange.

Physical affection is one of his preferred forms of currency.

Spock

GIF by in-his-autumn-before-the-winter

A - Attachment: How do they become obsessed?

After trying to blend in (poorly) you think you've fooled everyone, except for him.

With one good look that's all it takes to know you're not who you claim to be.

He will hide you from the captain, he's not really much for sharing.

B - Brutality: How vicious can they be towards a rival?

He will use his cunning and intelligence to cut his enemies down to size.

He may even turn them into experiments watching them suffer for their arrogance.

However, he won't hesitate to physically remove a rival if it's the most logical option.

C - Caring: How well do they take care of their darling?

Spock will take care of your needs and then some.

He enjoys decorating you in his Vulcan cultural attire; luxurious green-hued robes, various jewels, and hair adornments.

He is the perfect mate, it is only logical that must demonstrate his ability to provide for you.

[dracarialove]

Secret Desires

Rouge enlists Shadow to go on a treasure hunting journey, where a mishap in an underground cave coaxes her to reveal the romantic feelings she's been harboring for him.

(Reversal of Buried Desires)

Ship: Shadow/Rouge

*Originally published April 20th, 2024

A/N: This story exists thanks to @yokaishinari who gave me a more fleshed out idea for this reversal plot 💜

[Chapter 1: Come With Me]

Comforting darkness wrapped Rouge the Bat in a cool blanket of night air under a swath of stars twinkling in the vast indigo sky. She stared up at the thousands of tiny white specks glittering faintly behind crawling wisps of gray clouds.

A soft smile rested on her lips, and one heart-toed boot dangled off the side of her makeshift hammock; made from giant leaves and vines off the nearby trees, the hand-crafted bed kept her aloft between two solid oak trunks.

How tranquil it was, to be out in nature for once, never minding the noise of a city and letting the sights and sounds of wildlife fill her eyes and ears.

Crickets sang unabashedly, boasting creaky chirps from unseen places in the grass below. Fireflies floated about, doing nothing but adding a bit of golden light to the greenery.

And when a breeze blew by, leaves from the bushes and trees rustled together in a soft symphony of natural serenity, whispering secrets to each other that the bat would never understand.

It was rare for her to be out where she was now – by the plains; near the forest; just a half-day's trip from one of the biggest and least-explored mountains on the planet.

It was a tower of earth, that mountain, looking so obtainable from where she lay because it filled so much of the sky. It appeared to be just over the horizon, if one allowed themselves to be fooled by the illusion.

In reality, the gargantuan mound of dirt and stone was daunting when it was nearby, dangerous and looming, the sheer size of it enough to ward off many climbers and treasure hunters.

But to think of the jewel-lovers who'd been intimidated by the mountain's near-impervious outer edge, Rouge had to consider the ones who wouldn't be turned away.

How many had succeeded in exploring such an impressive mass of earth? A mass that was likely to be a tomb for many animals – and perhaps even explorers – who tried and failed to survive it.

If she tried, would she be a success or a failure? Would she make it out alive, with a bag of undiscovered gemstones and rare minerals to add to her very own gleaming collection?

The thought brought a sharp grin to the sly spy's mouth. If the mountain held treasures for her, she had to find them… after a quick nap in this peaceful place.

***

Now, if she was going to go on a jewel hunt in risky territory, it would be best to bring someone else along to keep her chances of survival high. Awakening from her nap between the trees, that was the first thing on Rouge's mind as she stretched inside her hammock.

She sat up and flattened out her wings on either side of her figure, flexing them to prepare for the trip, and raised a finger to her ear to activate her communication device.

"Shadow – come in, Shadow."

It was a gamble on if he would be awake or asleep at this hour. Sometimes the hedgehog stayed alert for much of the night, wandering or thinking; he could also be lounging at Club Rouge, helping himself to some of her stock; or, he could be slumbering in her spare bed, practically dead to the world.

But he was the best person to accompany her on this personal mission. What other options did she have, really? Omega was wholly uninterested in gems. Sonic and his friends weren't the jewel-plundering type.

And the only other treasure hunter who could match her skill, well… he already wasn't fond of her company. She wouldn't really want to share her findings even if he was up for the challenge, anyway.

Shadow, though – he could be persuaded to assist her, and he wouldn't ask for a percentage of whatever she found. Plus, his speed alone would make the 12-hour trip into a trivial one. For a moment, the line was quiet, and she thought he might not answer. Then, the Ultimate Lifeform's voice came through.

"Yes, Rouge? You don't sound like you're in trouble."

"Well, not yet," she answered back, lying against the big leaves and throwing one leg over the other. "And I won't be if you do me a big, gleaming, courteous favor."

"I don't like the sound of that…"

He gave pause for her to make her request, which she voiced in the sweetest tone she could manage. "Would you accompany me on a… well, I was going to say a 'little' treasure hunt, but… it's not really so little."

"Do I even have to ask why?"

"Not if you don't want to hear the same thing you did last time."

Another pause as Rouge's lifted foot bounced up and down in the air. A smile played on her lips, the one she always held when she knew she was about to get what she wanted.

Shadow inquired, "How dangerous is it this time?"

"Hmm, well…" She looked over at the distant dark mountain, just a silhouette in the midnight sky. "The location is one of the biggest mountains in the world. So, dangerous enough that I shouldn't go alone. Of course, I will if I have to, but I might not make it out alive without an exceptional lifeform looking out for me."

"Wait, one of the biggest mountains… where are you right now?"

"About half a day's trip from that cluster of tall peaks past the Forest Expanse. What is it called again?"

"The Macabre Cliffs… and you can guess how it got that name." There was a dark seriousness to his tone, but the bat was used to him sounding grave, so she paid it little mind. "Rouge, you should not go there. Why are you that far from the city, anyway?"

She answered casually, "I decided to be out in nature for once. Made myself a nice little spot between the plains and the forest, and I'm looking up at the stars right now! Pretty beautiful out here; all the more reason for you to join me!"

He sounded a little more annoyed when he asked, "You said you would go on your own if you didn't have backup?"

"Sure! You know how determined I am. Just thinking about all the potential treasure is enough to motivate me. So, how about it, Shadow? Will ya meet me?"

He huffed in irritation so she could hear his lack of enthusiasm. "Fine. Only so you don't die doing something stupid."

"Hurray, I knew I could count on you," she casually praised. "Let me owe you for it."

"That's a given. It seems you ask for a favor every week."

She clicked her tongue. "No, I don't. We help each other, that's how it's always been. Now get over here quick so we can start traveling ASAP!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied sarcastically, and she could picture his eyes rolling as he said it.

***

The faint sound of shuffling grass grabbed Rouge's attention. She turned left in her hammock to scan the plains and spotted her partner on the other side, near the opposite border of another forest.

She watched him for a second, amused at the hedgehog looking around on the wrong side for wherever she was lounging. Then, the charming lady cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted out to him, "Are ya lost, handsome? Your date's over here!"

She saw his head turn, and squinted to recognize a bit of surprise on his face before it changed back into indifference. In a streak of orange light, he rushed to the grass beneath her, wind from his brief travel rustling the foliage in front of him and causing even her hammock to sway a bit.

"Woo, careful, Shad!" the bat teased. "Wouldn't want to knock me out of the nice little seat I made!"

"Can you just come down here so we can get going?" He was frowning up at her, eyes fiery red and impatient.

Rouge sighed and hopped off the giant leaves, floating down to his level and crossing her arms. "Jeez, have a little fun, will you? We're about to take on an exciting treasure hunt."

"Exciting for you," he grumbled, slipping one arm behind her back and the other under her legs to sweep the spy off her feet.

She enwrapped his neck and clasped her hands atop his shoulder, beaming at the hedgehog in a way he found to be smug; but it was also charming, the way her eyes sparkled at him while the curl of her pink lips shimmered, and he couldn't defy that look when she struck him with it.

Rouge knew that, and she used it every time she asked him to go out of his way for her. To keep the Ultimate Lifeform around was to achieve two things: complete whatever task she'd set for herself twice – and sometimes thrice – as fast; and spend more time with her favorite person, using her aspirations as an excuse to hang out with him.

She hadn't told him yet how he really affected her. That his presence made her feel warmer than anyone else's, even as he seemed cold to most people.

She thought there would be a right time to reveal it, some special moment where it would make sense to open up that deeply to the most reserved guy on the planet.

Rouge wasn't sure he felt the same, and she kept telling herself that she'd get it done eventually; that if she just said it, she'd be able to move on from the lingering longing that persisted to annoy her with its nagging, tugging insistence to confess, confess, confess!

But she hesitated, and tried to ignore the fact that she was nervous about being snubbed. It was easier to lock up her heart than to bare it to the one man who might be able to break it.

She didn't know that her caution was unnecessary. He was struggling with feelings for her, as well. And as if the ball of tangled emotions that formed in his stomach when he held her wasn't enough, that look of sly charm she gave him made Shadow shiver inside.

He had to focus on the destination ahead, on the tall shadowy peaks waiting in the distance, to keep from thinking too much about the plumpness of her thighs against his palm, or the intimate wrap of her arms around him.

But unlike the bat's slow progress towards being honest with him, he was stagnant. Emotionally repressed, he found it difficult to express feelings that could get him hurt.

He would find confessing any romantic affection to be easier if rejection was a purely physical pain – if it came in the form of a punch to the face rather than a strike through the heart.

The emotional pain he'd felt in his life was far more agonous than any hit he'd ever taken. He wouldn't be able to stand that kind of hurt if it came from her.

They arrived at the base of the mountain in record time, and Shadow realized when he looked up at the towering peaks that dark stormy clouds were creeping towards them. Keeping that in mind, he asked, "So, where is this fabled treasure you were talking about?"

"Deep underground," she answered, leaving his arms, then added, "supposedly."

"For your sake, something worth our time had better be there." He followed his partner along the jagged walls of the mountain, studying the stone and dirt building on each other.

"I've found jewels in some of the most unlikely places before!" Rouge chirped confidently. "Just look for an opening, a dip; anything that could lead us inside."

They walked around the mountain's edge for a bit, hearing the rumble of distant thunder slowly getting closer. If this trip ended up getting rained out, they would have to consider it a wash and leave – something the gem-hungry woman really didn't want to do.

Scanning the cliff sides with tunnel focus, she eventually spotted a section of the earth that looked uneven. Not naturally so, as if it built that way over time, but dented inwards with lots of rubble on the ground nearby.

She trotted over to it and discovered a pile of sizable rocks crammed into the crevice, arching on the edges as if they were stuffing a cave entrance.

"Bingo!" she exclaimed, her wings fluttering excitedly.

Shadow watched her brace herself against the rocks, turning her head and pointing one ear at the pile. It was interesting to see how she worked when she was hunting for treasure, utilizing her senses more than usual.

After a few seconds, she pulled away and took some steps backwards. There was an adventurous glint in her eyes when she looked at the hedgehog.

"Stand back, handsome. We're breaking in!"

He hopped away from the stones and watched as Rouge launched herself in the air, spinning into a Screw Kick before hurtling towards the mountain.

Her rapid, powerful kicks blasted the rocks away from the crevice, pushing most of them farther inside the cave they'd been concealing. She jumped back from the entrance in case it triggered a collapse of some kind.

When it didn't, her attention was drawn by steady clapping beside her, and she looked over to see Shadow giving her an impressed smile.

"Not bad," he said, bringing a touch of blush to her cheeks with his unexpected compliment.

She chuckled, "I'm so glad you recognize my skills!" and approached the mouth of the cavern.

Looking inside, it didn't seem too dark with the natural light spilling in. Though, that would change the deeper they went. Rouge didn't have a light source with her for this impromptu search, which made her wonder if her friend had something on him that could help when she was no longer able to make out shapes in the darkness.

That led her to mindfully question how much light one of his Chaos Spears casted before tucking the thought away to be brought up later.

Walking in first, her large ears twitched in multiple directions, picking up the sounds of wind bouncing off the walls and water dripping somewhere farther in. Her heels clacked and shifted dryly on the stone and dirt beneath her, and her colleague's footfalls followed.

"Normal-looking cave," she noted, spotting the narrower path off to the right that would lead them elsewhere.

Shadow appreciated status reports, especially as their tag-team treasure hunts weren't a regular occurrence. He knew he could trust Rouge to say what was typical or atypical during their time in a dark cave.

After all, it was sort of the least she could do to make his time assisting her easier. If there was danger, he'd be the first confronting it. He stayed near her as she entered the thin path, minding how close he could get without bumping into her if she stopped suddenly.

"Looks like it gets even narrower up ahead," she informed him as their light source became more distant.

"Be careful," chimed Shadow, keeping one hand in front of him in case she reached back to grab it.

He wouldn't want her to fall down an unexpected opening, or accidentally advance too far ahead of him when the darkness overpowered his vision.

Once they got to the progressively thinner part of the path, he just barely made out Rouge's posture turning sideways to slip between the rock walls.

He followed her lead, but before long, a knot formed in his stomach at the inevitability of not being able to see. The places they'd hunted in before were much more spacious than this.

He squinted at his partner's barely visible figure and said, "It's getting too dark."

"Oh, uh… okay, there's a bigger space up ahead. When we get there, I want to try something. But until then, here – take my hand."

He noticed a brief swish of gray as she waved her hand in the small gap, then it disappeared when he reached for it. He couldn't see anymore, but after a second of searching, his fingers found hers and they locked together.

They shuffled through the cramped, uneven hall of stone for a daunting stretch of a minute. Rouge could see why people would get discouraged having to go through here to explore the mountain, and she could guess it was similarly unnerving any other way in.

The bat was having more trouble seeing, but she could hear water dripping up ahead, and she knew they'd make it out of the tight squeeze before she needed more light.

Shadow was completely blind, seeing nothing but blackness no matter where he looked; the only thing that grounded him was their shared grip. And it helped to calm Rouge, too, knowing she was going through this cavern with the man she could trust more than anyone.

"Almost there," she commented, slinking out of the last foot of narrow path.

She kept a tight hold on his hand while he worked his way out, then looked at him when he stepped next to her. "Okay, now I want to know – how much light would one of your Chaos Spears cast?"

He gazed in the direction of her face, but couldn't make proper eye contact. "I'm not sure. I suppose we could try it."

"Please do."

She let go of his hand and took one step away from him, careful not to go too far in case there was a drop-off she couldn't see. Then Shadow quickly flicked his wrist towards the ground, wrapping his gloved fingers around the golden Spear that flickered into existence.

Yellow sparks of Chaos energy danced around the arrow-shaped bolt, giving off a bright glow that illuminated a few feet of the cave around him. Seeing that it wasn't much, he conjured a Spear in his other hand to make the area brighter.

"I can work with that," said Rouge, studying the space they were in and seeing there was indeed a drop-off not far from where they stood.

She cautiously approached it, as did Shadow, and he repositioned the Spears at different angles to try and see how deep it went, or anything beyond it. Unfortunately, it was too deep, and the stretch ahead was too wide, so nothing was shown to them.

His partner eyed the energy bolts and asked, "Would it do too much damage if you tossed one to see what we're working with?"

"There's only one way to find out. If it does, we can always escape back the way we came."

She gave him a smile and crossed her fingers, then he gently tossed one of the Spears down the cliff. Free-falling sideways instead of hurtling straight down seemed to work in not destroying anything; it revealed the steep drop of a stone wall, falling a long way before hitting the curved bottom and disintegrating into electric shards.

Shadow then made a new one and tossed it straight ahead. The arrow tip landed on a bronze-colored structure and caused a small explosion, which made Rouge gasp. A light rumble echoed through the cavern, but there weren't any signs of collapse or falling debris.

"Damn," Shadow said, then looked at the treasure hunter. "Sorry."

"I think we're okay." She waited a few seconds, listening for tumbling rocks or shakes in the earth, but heard nothing besides water dripping. "Just, no more throwing. But it looks like this drop-off leads to a cavernous dip in the earth. There must be tons of stone above us keeping this mountain sturdy."

"Should we search the area?"

"Yeah. I'll fly us." She turned and held out her hand for him to take. "I want to see what that thing was."

He held her hand again, keeping his other grip on the Chaos Spear, and allowed her to lift him off the ground. They slowly made their way across what seemed like a chasm, while Shadow gently dropped his Spears to illuminate the area without damaging anything.

They saw more glimpses of bronze, and it didn't take long for Rouge to recognize that the structures she was seeing were deliberately shaped.

They weren't just natural formations of the earth, and when she landed them in the middle of the chasm, her mouth dropped open at their discovery.

"Ruins…" she revealed softly, staring up at the arches and columns all around.

Holding up two Chaos Spears, Shadow lit up the space for her, watching Rouge graze her palm against a solid obelisk. Her voice was a near whisper when she spoke, "Incredible… these are undiscovered ruins of… something. A lost tribe? An ancient civilization?"

"Gods?" he suggested, receiving a surprised glance from his companion.

"There's no markings… no way to know…"

Exploring the area, they didn't find anything that would suggest who or what had erected the structures. What they did eventually run across was a dip in the center of a stone platform that covered the ground.

The dip led to an opening, where the earth seemed dug through like a tunnel. The brave pair looked down at the new entrance that led to something further unknown, then Rouge gave Shadow a coaxing smile.

"We haven't come across any real danger yet. Wanna roll some more dice?"

He shared her stare, feeling an adventurous sense of tension between them at the admittedly thrilling prospect of discovering more mysterious things with her. "We've gone this far. There might be treasure down there, right?"

Her smile widened into a grin – a pleasantly mischievous expression he'd really come to like – and she caught a flutter in her heart at her best friend being so committed to hunting jewels with her. She positioned herself behind him, hooking both arms under his shoulders so his back was against her front.

"That's my Shadow," she purred, and he could've sworn she was being sultry on purpose, because the smooth cadence of her voice made a shiver run down his spine.

She lifted the hedgehog off the ground with the powerful flap of her wings, holding onto him as they descended carefully down the earthy tunnel. It smelled much more acidic, the dirt looking more red than brown, but there was nothing else to be seen or smelled until they reached the bottom.

Once they landed on solid stone, they found the space being lit up was another cave; this one smelling of unclean water and plant life. And what they saw made Shadow absorb his Spears into nothingness, both of them staring silently in awe at the natural light source they'd discovered.

Rouge had never seen cave walls glow and glitter so beautifully before.

[lazybutsmexy]

Happy Valentines day! I saw your blurbs post and since I really like Al rn, what about an Alejandro and fem reader? Thank you😚😚💐💐

I get you nonnie, Alejandro is sooo dreamy 🥺😩♥️ uuuh I think it got a bit longer than intended, but whatever, he deserves it 🥰

Warnings: Alejandro is a bit sad in the beginning, but it's all fluff in the end ♥️

Alejandro shut the door to his home behind him, and let out a tired sigh as he toed off his boots.

The day had lasted forever, and he had been unable to spare even a minute to escape from his post at a more decent hour. He had to be in so many interrogations, and had grown more irritable the longer they went on.

It was now past midnight, he confirmed with a wry glance to his wristwatch. Valentine's Day had come and gone, and he was now mentally ready to grovel at her feet for forgiveness.

His wife deserved so much better than spending Valentine's Day without her husband there to spoil her rotten, like she deserved.

A soft music interrupted his train of thought with a screech, and he stepped into the living room, where the candlelight illuminated a lavishly set table I'm the middle of the room.

"Bienvenido a casa, Señor Vargas,(1)" his wife cooed, and he followed her voice until he finally spotted her by the staircase. His mouth hung open in shock, eating her up with his stare. She looked absolutely ravishing, the cocktail dress hugging her figure deliciously, "tienes hambre, mi amor?(2)"

Alejandro had to shake himself out of his stupor, and force himself to pull his thoughts in order, before he decidedly stepped up to her, an apology ready in his lips.

"Mi vida, cielito mío, lo siento tanto, yo-(3)" he was interrupted by soft, creamy lips sealing his own chapped ones shut, and Alejandro let out a groan. He never liked to be interrupted, but would never mind it if it was done like this, by her - only by her.

His hands found her waist and pulled her closer, hoping to pour every possible apology into every move of his lips. She pulled away, however, and chuckled softly when he pursued her. Her hands cupped his cheeks with a tenderness he was still getting used to after so many years in the army, and her eyes searched his in the dim light, shining like jewels.

"I know, mi amor, and I understand," she hummed softly, stroking his stubble and placing a soft kiss on his chin, "that's why I prepared this, and waited for you," she pulled his face lower, her lips leaving butterfly kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his lips again, "siempre que vuelvas a mí, esperaré toda la vida si es necesario.(4)"

Alejandro pressed his forehead against his beloved, and pulled her flush against him. His heart drummed loudly against his ribcage, and he felt himself falling in love with her all over again. "Ni el Diablo podría evitar que vuelva a tus brazos,(5)" he promised, pulling her back in a deep kiss.

She smiled into his lips, knowing he meant every letter, every word. He was her Alejandro, after all.

Translations:

Welcome home, Mister Vargas

Are you hungry, my love?

My love, my little sky, I'm so sorry, I-

As long as you come back to me, I will wait all my life if it's necessary

Not even the Devil would be able to prevent me from coming back to your arms.

[rom-e-o]

Worthy (Constance/Ebenezer)

Trigger warning for mentions of s*xual abuse and physical abuse perpetrated by a third party (AKA Orin).

How does almost 20 years of marriage break? It shatters like bone.

Before Ebenezer came into her life with the speed and majesty of a summer storm, Constance DoGoode (specifically, Constance Spiegler) hadn't thought herself to be particularly ... affectionate.

She liked to flirt; a wink here, a flash of the ankle there. The best men got a swish of the skirt.

It was recreational for her; an exercise is the perfecting the persona of a stunning socialite. It was part of her job to maintain the image as a model and a soon-to be businessman's wife.

People noticed Constance, and they also noticed how others (especially men) treated her.

All the doormen at New York's ritziest apartments took turns on Friday evenings while gathered around shots of rye whiskey to brag about if she'd touched their shoulder or tossed her hair at them to throw the cent of her lily perfume. Bellhops would fight over who got the opportunity to handle her luggage or, heaven forbid, the opportunity to walk her to her room or bring room service. The jewelers at Tiffany's frequently invited her to their 259 Broadway storefront to solicit her opinion on the latest diamonds and jewelry styles.

When eager friends told Constance stories of her not-so-secret fanclubs, she'd laugh coyly, her smile bright as the stars. The unsuspecting onlooker might think the news overjoyed her.

Truthfully, she was indifferent. She liked attention in the way a horse liked sugar. It was a delightful treat, but it wasn't by any means necessary for survival or daily well-being. She felt the same way about the birds and bees.

While she'd had her first kiss at age 14 with a giggly classmate from her French lessons, she'd been a sterling little virgin on her wedding night. As for why she'd waited, it hadn't been an intentional decision. She'd simply never had the desire to go to bed with anyone before meeting her first husband. Others had definitely tried to persuade her, but the woman was nothing if not resolute, even when it came to her disinterest.

Her wedding night with Orin had been...nice. Delightful, even. Then, the next day, he'd 'shared' her with a group of other businessmen he'd met that morning in the Swiss ski lodge they'd opted to honeymoon in. She woke up bruised, bloodied, groggy from alcohol she didn't remember drinking, and most of all ... broken-hearted.

As the years passed, kisses were nonexistent and hugs were only initiated in the company of others to keep up the couple's images. Sex was more awkward than painful, thanks to Orin's below average endowment (which she became beyond thankful for). When he did want to hurt her, he used his fists, broken bottles, or the steel-toed tips of his boots if she was especially prone.

She tried to rekindle their romance if for no other reason than to save her life. It failed, and she turned to a razor blade and scalding bath tub for salvation. She was denied. Orin found her and delivered her from ethereal release to the painful confinement of a hospital. Even while in a half-sleep, her body reeking of copper from the blood coagulating in the lace trim of her nightgown, she swore he mother's screams shook the city.

That night was the only night Orin held her hand, stroking her wedding band. It seemed to be a means to comfort himself more than her.

Doctors gave her pain meds - morphine, codeine, and heroin. Opium as well, of course. It lessened her libido further, something Orin would stomp his foot about like a child whenever she tried to shove him away after a long day.

After he shoved her down the stairs, snapping both her femurs like toothpicks, the pain medication and grain alcohol cocktail she sloshed down daily numbed her to almost everything. Everything except the desire to escape.

The 30-day boat trip to London has been a miserable, rat-infested, shivering detox. Yet, as far as she was concerned, death would have been another form of release. Whether she reached the shore or not, she was free.

When she did reach the shore, what she lacked in money or prospects, she made up for in hope. The city was grimy, freezing cold and dark, but it was without him. For that reason, it was heaven.

Then, she met Ebenezer Scrooge.

He and Orin were physically similar, in many ways. Handsome. Tall. Dark-haired (well, past-tense for Ebenezer). Broad-shouldered. Their voices were even similar, striking her as a blend between velvety and smoky that she had never heard before. Orin's accent was distinctly Bronx, while Ebenezer's leaned more Welsh than the traditional London accent or cockney flair she'd heard so far.

Ebenezer rolled his 'rrr's easily, which separated him distinctly from the pronunciations of largely Dutch-settled populations of New York. Orin's family had hailed from the Netherlands and Germany, and he spoke fluent Dutch as a result. Constance spoke the language recreationally, and the two would often converse in Dutch at parties if they needed to speak privately.

"Tenzij je wilt dat je arm vanavond gebroken wordt, rond je gesprek af en laten we vertrekken," he growled. "Dat zal ik nu doen," she whispered, frantically waving to the acquatance she's started chatting with moments before. They stared back in confusion, but she kept smiling as to not alarm them. "Het spijt me." "Zorg dat je dat doet, slet!"

Both men were financial bigwigs, but Ebenezer's talent was sincere and founded on skill (skills that had come at a hefty price). Orin was ... well, a master of illusion. He talked an enthusiastic deal, cut shrewd deals, and adored parties and festivities. Yet, the management of money often fell to Constance because the man lacked any sense of self-restraint.

Where they widely differed, of course, was in personality.

"How would you pronounce your name in Dutch?" he asked, using his elbow to pop is head up. The angle allowed him to look down upon her lovingly while simultaneously providing space for their nude bodies to slot together easily. They laid side by side in bed, his blunt fingertips tracing hearts idly over the skin of her bare hip.

"Konstanz."

He hummed, testing the pronunciation on his tongue. "Beautiful, of course."

She smiled modestly. "I've always liked my name, I'll confess. My mother chose it for me, after all."

He paused. "So, Theresea gave you your name, not ..."

"No. If I had a name before they left me, I don't remember it."

"I can't imagine a more fitting name for you," he said softly, flattened his palm to give her hip an affectionate squeeze. "Steadiness. Resoluteness. Persistence. How fitting for a woman of such strength."

"My schoolmates teased me for it, though," she commented. "They said it was too prim and proper for a redhead with freckles."

"Too prim?" he repeated, genuinely confused.

"I like the way your name sounds much better," she said, rolling over in the bed to have a better angle at which to toy with his hair. "Even H'azer. Similar to Hebrew."

He chuckled, capturing her hand to kiss her knuckles. "It sounds pretty when you say it."

"You don't like your name?"

"I'm indifferent," he explained. "It's certainly a name that sets a high standard. One I'm uncertain a can stand up to."

"I adore your name," she said sincerely, twining their fingers. Her thumb stroked his palm, and she took great joy in watching a deep blush color his cheeks (and not for the first time that day). "It's a worthy name for a worthy man."

"W-Well, thank you," he chuckled, stuttering a bit in the process. She adored why boyish embarrassment came over him in small glimpses. It was rewarding to see him accept compliments.

"I mean it," she repeated. "If anyone deserves a name of such esteem, it's you."

His facial features, already soft with affection, became borderline mercurial. "You're serious?"

"You are one of two men I hold in the highest esteem possible," she said. She pressed a kiss to the tip of his owlish nose. "Sorry, but I'm afraid my father takes the tippy-top spot."

He laughed at this, not in mockery, but in joy.

"I'd expect nothing less," he beamed.

Her heart swelled at his response.

"Oh, he would have loved you..." she said softly. "He never liked Orin. My father rarely lost his temper, but the first time I ran home with a black eye, he grabbed a pistol and tried to march out the door. He said, 'I'll kill the bastard.'"

Agreed, Ebenezer thought secretly.

"He sounds like an amazing man," he said, "And he raised an amazing, wonderful, strong, and beautiful daughter. One I promise I'll fight every day to be worthy of. For the rest of my days."

It was her turn to blush as she lifted her arms to wrap them about his narrow waist. Her cheek fell against his furred chest, finding the steady thud of his heart without issue.

"I think you'll find that your fight is over," she said with a smile. "Both of ours are."

@quill-pen when writing a character's past hurts so much that you HAVE to throw in SOME fluff at the end to stay sane.