#losing sleep should be the exception not the rule

[skyloftian-nutcase]

*plops down next to Fierce with my switch in hand* planning on staying up late playing Totk after my mom surprise bought it today

I just talked about not being nocturnal, but exceptions can be made 🤣 Have fun!

[imxnotxhere]

Azriel Fic Recs

** Updated 03/07/2024 **

A collection of amazing fics I think everyone should read. Also an appreciation for the writers that carry this fandom on their back.

One Shots:

@azrielhours

soft spot - smut, fluff - "Azriel is very particular about his lovers; typically hard-hearted women chosen so they don’t develop an emotional attachment. Reader is one of these lovers, except she’s the sweetest and cheeriest on his roster. This causes Az to begin breaking his rules about intimacy, especially when she unwittingly ends up at his home for work one evening and spends the night."

take care - fluff - "There Was only One Bed trope, reader and Az stay at an Inn overnight, they take care of each other."

i want you to rest - fluff - 10/10 comfort fic - "Reader has a nightmare while on a mission w the boys. Azriel comes to the rescue, brings her to his room to comfort her. She doesn’t want to sleep so he stays with her through the night."

lessons on relief - smut - "Azriel is the last of the boys to lose his virginity"

tight enough - fluff - "Reader needs help tightening her corset and no one's around to help but Azriel."

captured - fluff - "The camera has been invented and Azriel takes up a hobby of capturing reader, proving how pretty she can be."

@tadpolesonalgae

unchained - smut

stockholm syndrome - smut, dark!az - please check the warnings before reading!

birthday girl - fluff

dreamy - smut

@azsazz

the caress of murder and moonlight - smut, rhys x azriel x reader - "Rhysand and Azriel are having a secret meeting out in the woods. Upon hearing your scream, the race to save you, and you thank them in the only way you know how."

after hours - smut, modern au, office au - "You and Az work in the same office and you've been crushing on each other for quite some time. Late at the office one night, he decides to do something about it."

body and soul - vamp!az au, smut - recommend checking the other parts

dirty work - smut

leisurely - fluff

@azrielbrainrot

i'll be here - fluff - "You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue."

such a perfect place to start - fluff - "Something happens that has you questioning the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger."

maybe we could be the start of something - fluff, modern au, band au - Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there."

darling i'd wait for you even if you didn't ask me to - fluff, modern au, band au - "You have a really bad day and Azriel is there to help you through it."

you take me higher - smut - "What happens when you run into Azriel at a bar after a long mission?"

loose lips and big feelings - fluff - "Azriel gets a little drunk and you take care of him."

the right time - fluff - "Azriel wakes up with a massive hangover and the girl of his dreams sitting in his kitchen."

when prayers fall on deaf ears - angst - "For the first time in his life, Azriel is not ready to accept death."

all over my skin - smut - "You find yourself in an empty room between the High Lord and the Shadowsinger."

sweet somethings - fluff - "You help Azriel put on a necklace and almost get lost in his eyes."

@serpentandlily

no going back- angst - "Azriel has been your mate, your husband, your love for centuries. But a certain Archeron sister has him questioning your relationship after all this time. You soon find out that there are simply things that can not be unsaid or undone. And sometimes, there are things you can’t come back from."

the shadowsinger's secret - "After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet."

birds of a feather - angst - "Azriel had been your closest friend, made from the very same things as you—birds of a feather, as they say. But you were not the girl he chose to fall in love with. So all you could do was love your mate in the shadows until the day you died."

we should stick together - angst - "Azriel deals with the aftermath of losing his mate."

@illyrianbitch

death and his reaper - angst - "After suffering a devastating injury in battle, Azriel finds himself on the brink of life and death where he meets you, The Mother's reaper."

winner - "You and Azriel are both sore losers. But when you cheat in a game of cards, winning takes on a whole new meaning."

@fever-fluff

take my hand - angst, fluff - "Azriel really wants to hold your hand, but he's afraid that he'll hold it too tight."

@florencemtrash

he feels safe with you - "Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation."

@utterlyazriel

let me keep you company - "You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect."

@prythianpages

i've been waiting for you - "Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate."

be safe - fluff - "You are on your way to Day Court when Azriel stops you. After the two of you fall victim to Cassian's and Mor's teasing, Azriel realizes why he can't just let you go."

@leafsandstarlight

forced revelations - fluff - "While on a mission with Azriel, reader is tricked by a creature into revealing that her feelings for the Shadowsinger go beyond mere friendship."

bad idea, right? - smut - "You stopped sleeping together months ago, but when Azriel invites you back to his place after seeing you at Rita's you just know you're going to fall right back into his bed."

@writingcroissant

just a little crush - fluff - "Everyone secretly longs for Azriel, but Azriel only longs for her."

hands - smut - "Azriel has really nice hands. And he knows how to use them, too."

@safetypinxtales

lonely with you - angst, fluff - "it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely."

@acourtofmenandthirst

love you in the dark - angst (really heavy on the angst)

@milswrites

somewhere only we know - angst - "Azriel comes to visit you for the first time in a while."

sweetened dreams - smut - "Having access to the people of Velaris' dreams was a gift you did not take for granted. Having access to your mate's heated dreams? Absolutely delicious."

@azrielscrown

innocence - smut, fluff

@gothicbabydollz

azriel x archeron!sister!reader - smut

@honeybeefae

desperate times - smut - "While tending to Elain's garden you come across a mysterious flower with an even more mysterious pollen. As the effects of it start to hit you, you have to fend for yourself to get the edge off...or do you?"

@writingsbychlo

be yours - fluff - "you ask azriel how it's possible he's still single."

@lalacliffthorne

idiot - smut - "a fight gets out of hand, and suddenly, everything´s turned upside down"

Series:

@azsazz

cupid's chokehold - fluff, angst - this is such an interesting concept - "You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it's a little hard to explain what you're trying to do."

@illyrianbitch

an education in malice - smut - "With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin."

@azrielbrainrot

moonlit shadows - "When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old, forgotten ruins if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever."

@pellucid-constellations

i laugh like me again, she laughs like you - angst - "Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time."

of oblivious minds - fluff - "You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore."

@utterlyazriel

how long have i searched for you? an eternity my love - fluff - "azriel finds his mate in the most inopportune time and he convinces himself you haven't sought him out for good reason. he couldn't be more wrong."

@tadpolesonalgae

i can't bring myself to hate you - angst, smut (only one chapter for now at least) - this fic is my roman empire, literally obsessed with this. prepare for the pain and to kind of want to hit azriel over the head

eat you up - smut, dark!az - please check the warnings at the beginning! if you're ever in a mood for dark!az this is the perfect remedy (stockholm syndrome is a sort of epilogue? for this)

teeth and talons - smut, demon!az - "you’re accused of witchcraft and sacrificed to the shadow creatures, only to be saved by their ruler who’s suspiciously in sudden need of a bride…"

@leafsandstarlight

inadvertently yours - "As Eris Vanserra’s most trusted spy, you‘ve found yourself spending a surprising amount of time with the Night Court’s Spymaster. When your rendezvous with Azriel is discovered by High Lord Beron, the only way to protect the alliance is to pretend that you and Azriel are madly in love."

annual visit - fluff, smut - human reader, modern(?) au - "Each year on Halloween, Azriel visits the mortal lands with his friends to partake in the human debauchery that occurs. When he meets reader at a local bar, he can't take his eyes off her no matter how hard he tries."

@acourtofwhatthefuck

bluebird - fluff, angst

studious part 2 - smut

@lalacliffthorne

bat boys roommates - fluff, modern roommates au

Drabbles:

@gothicbabydollz

az spitting in your mouth - smut

@princess-tulip-writes

az pleasuring his mate with truthteller - smut

@fieldofdaisiies

azriel... - fluff, smut

azriel's hands - fluff, smut

@grandlinedreams

drabble - fluff, suggestive

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 012 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. minimal angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. explicit smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. physical violence. sex tapes. reader has a gun and almost uses it.

notes. i wanted the kiyoomi and suna girlies (/gn) to win so here it is! feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3

wc. 12.9k

series masterlist 

[ TWELVE ] for you, i would cross the line. i would waste my time, i would lose my mind. they say “she’s gone too far this time.”

You prided yourself in being logical.

There was little to no room for measly emotions when it came to royal affairs. Granted, you had no proper training, but you were raised as a noble, and the rules were clear. Set aside your emotions, always look towards the most plausible solution, and cry about it later – where no one could see. Those were your mother’s words. You held onto them for as long as you remembered, with the exception of making only one grand mistake: proceeding with the marriage after catching your fiancé cheating on you.

But now? Now, you were about to make your next worst decision – letting Kiyoomi walk away.

It wasn’t love, of course. It couldn’t be. The odds simply weren’t in your favor, but couldn’t a Princess hope? You met him first, had him as your last dance on your debut ball. He was the first Prince who ever held your hand, the first Prince to dance with you, and the first – possibly last – who reminded what love could feel like. What love should feel like. It was explosive and angry like fire licking up at your skin, begging, pleading at you to chase after him. Every nerve in your body protested as you watched him take one more step away from you. It’s a mistake, one I’ll regret – Don’t let him go. It screamed at you, its cries desperate to be heard. You didn’t want to be here in the Palace. You didn’t want to return to your shared quarters with Rintaro.

You wanted to go back to Itachiyama – his farmhouse, the castle ruins, riding aimlessly with Astra and Lucy, picking fruits from his garden, and spending hours in his library. You hadn’t even held your end of the promise yet to learn everything about him.

What did Kiyoomi love? What did he look like in his slumber? Does he talk in sleep? Does he steal the blankets? What about his favorite song?

You moved before you could think.

Closing the distance in hurried strides, you grasped the Prince’s elbow. He stiffened under your touch, his eyes unreadable through the dimly-lit hallways. “Your Highness. Wait,” you panted, “Listen… back at Itachiyama–”

“Do you want me?”

Your grip on him faltered. Briefly, you took a step back, but the Prince was having none of it. He easily closed whatever distance you attempted to put between you two, his face hard and eyes burning with passion. With yearning. You never thought a man could look so determined yet hopeless as he did, the picture-perfect image of ardor. His brows pinched together, his lower lip trembling as he sighed. “Do you want me?”

You shook your head.

If only it could be as simple as that.

“It’s wrong, my Prince. We couldn’t… We wouldn’t work out. I only meant to say that I do adore you, and I do not want whatever complicated feelings we have to ruin our friendship,” Lies. Every word uttered from your lips were nothing but measly lies. Kiyoomi could tell too – the hesitation written all over your face said otherwise. “I hope you understand. You and I – we’re impossible.”

You couldn’t tell which one you needed more: for him to deny your worries, or for him to agree that you were right. You figured both would be just as painful.

Kiyoomi’s nostrils flared as you looked away from him, feet shuffling in the other direction already. “Stop. Do not take another step. Don’t you dare,” with a low growl, you were suddenly pulled back against his warm chest. You gasped at the hardness of his body, the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch. His lips were everywhere but the one place you needed it to be – lingering at the curve of your neck, his breaths fanning over your exposed collarbones. It was like he had set you on fire with one touch alone, his firm grip around your waist both eerily intimidating and lustrous. And he must’ve laughed – you weren’t sure anymore. All you knew was that you were completely under Kiyoomi’s mercy, and quite frankly, he could have his way with you as he pleased.

“If you do not choose me…” murmuring, your breath hitched as his lips briefly grazed your skin, making your pulse jump. “You will regret it. You will be unhappy with him.”

I’m already unhappy with him, you wanted to say, but the words died in your mouth.

You’d lost all forms of coherence under Kiyoomi’s spell. Especially in this compromising position, this scandalous way his hand now slowly trailed its way from your abdomen and up to the swells on your chest – Gods, what would any witnesses say? This wasn’t how a Prince held a woman that wasn’t his.

“Your Highness,” you tried to fighting from his grasp, only to fall momentarily back against him when finally, finally, his lips were now leaving marks on your neck. It took all of your willpower to not give in right there, to not sink your fingers in his delicious curls. You had to say no. “I-I think we’ve both had a long night. We should retire to our quarters.”

“I will allow it if it’s my quarters you’ll be sharing.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck – your gaze darted around the empty hallway, paranoid.

The lights had been dimmed hours ago, the staff retiring to their rooms, but it was so quiet your breathy moans could echo. Anyone could walk in and see you like this, pleading but not quite begging for the Prince to not stop holding you.

And it was wrong, so deliciously wrong.

“Please,” you closed your eyes, unable to stop yourself from craning your neck to give him access. Above you, Kiyoomi chuckled, the rumbling of his chest deliciously low.

“You should stop lying to yourself, Princess. You do not want him. Whatever attachment you still have for my brother, it is nothing but a pitiful excuse of familiarity. You keep him around because there is no other choice, but you cannot keep lying to yourself. You cannot keep lying to me that you do not feel as I do when I see the way you look at me,” grasping your chin with his much larger hand, Kiyoomi forced you to look into his eyes. Pools of inky depths stared back at you with part frustration, part lust – his skin already flushed with sweat. You couldn’t look away even if the world ended. There was only you and Kiyoomi, with his hand resting on top of your breasts and gently caressing, so light you might’ve thought he wasn’t there.

And you, breathless and reckless, clung to him like he was your last lifeline.

Kiyoomi dipped down. His nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled before he breathed you in greedily. “I was never a man who had many desires, but you are the greatest of them all. You run through my mind even in my sleep, and you are the first thing I search for when I wake. So do not tell me you do not want me when I know it’s my name you cry out in your sleep.”

Your knees felt impossibly weak.

“What do you want me to do? I’m married. You’re married. Are you forgetting divorce is impossible?” you snapped back, shoving him until his back hit the wall. The painting above him clattered, yet the Prince seemed uncaring, his arms crossed against his chest as you breathed hard. This was preposterous – this could not go any longer. “This would never work. The people would never understand.”

“I do not care what they think.”

“I care what they think! My husband is already cheating on me, and his own people detest him for it. What more if they find out I have taken you as my lover?”

“Then tell me to go,” he whispered, tilting his head back as he stared at you almost defiantly, mockingly. Like he knew you wouldn’t have the courage to actually say it. “Tell me, and I will walk away.”

When Kiyoomi is met with silence, he scoffed. A smirk graced his handsome face before he’s grabbing you by the arm and twisting you, the positions reversed until your back hit the wall. There’s a slight ache pounding at the back of your head, but nothing – absolutely nothing – could tear your attention away from his lips crashing into yours. The kiss is nothing short of avidity. Kiyoomi devoured you like a man starved, molding the shape of his lips into yours while his large hand encompassed the entirety of your face. Thumbs running over your cheek, his imposing frame completely dominated you. Your bodies were now pressed into each other that it became difficult to tell where you began and the Prince ended.

All you knew was Kiyoomi kissed you like he spent most of his nights dreaming about it, sighing and groaning all at once before his tongue fought for dominance.

Pushing his tongue inside your willing lips, he tasted all of you. He spoke the words he struggled to say, the firm grasp on your hip keeping you in place beneath him a clear sign he didn’t want you anywhere but here. But you weren’t leaving. You’d be a fool to walk away now that you finally had a taste of him, and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You wanted more, needed more.

Kissing him back harder, your palms flattened on his chest before you balled his shirt into your fists, uncaring if he’d walk back home flustered and wild. You simply needed him there; you wanted to breathe him in, to have nothing but him as your entire world.

“Stay,” you pleaded in between kisses, letting the Prince maneuver you until your bum landed flat on a table. Uncaring, the Prince swept aside all knick-knacks placed above it when his lips found yours again. And oh, a greedy man he was. Even after kissing you until you were breathless, he still hadn’t had his fill. His tongue danced with yours in this gentle melody only you two could sing, your bodies moving in sync like a choreographed dance. Your hand would wound up to tangle itself in his dark locks, his hands would scramble to undo his breeches, and willingly – wantonly – you would welcome him with all your being. It’s a dance between lovers, a forbidden tune you sang wholeheartedly, accompanied by your high-pitched moans once the Prince had himself buried in you – “Oh. Oh.”

“Who makes you feel good?”

“You, my Prince, it’s you,”

Biting down on your lip to muffle the noises you made, you heard the crescendo of the music. Rising and rising with overwhelming intensity at each note hit, each perfect thrust and drive into you. He hadn’t felt like anyone else. He was thicker and spread you open, impaled on his stiffness while you sat there helplessly to take it all. You felt empowered and weak at the same time, with your legs locking behind his chest as tears rolled down your face from the pleasure of it all, but Kiyoomi showed no signs of stopping.

Heavens, he might not even stop tonight, not when you sucked him in tight and made his breath stutter, his thrusts staggered.

“Kiyoomi,” you cried out, unable to keep quiet any longer. He simply held you carefully, a great contrast to his hips pistoning in and out of you – no, he held you like you were a porcelain doll he feared would break, someone he had to protect and cherish. And his eyes – droopy yet adoring – gazed upon you like you were worth more than any crown. “Oh, you are so…”

His forehead landed on top of yours, his lips minutely brushing against yours for a quick kiss. It’s rushed, frantic, yet intimate in ways you’d never experienced before. For once, sharing bodies with someone didn’t feel like just like sex.

For once, you finally made love with someone.

“Choose me, Princess,” he gritted his teeth, “It was always meant to be me.”

You awoke with a gasp.

Sitting up, your heart pounded in your chest, your skin clammy and drenched with sweat. A scan of your surroundings told you that you were in your room, the empty side of your bed a sign Rintaro kept to his word and left you alone. Closing your eyes, your head dropped down to your palms.

So it had been a dream, after all.

You really allowed Kiyoomi to walk away from you. And one mistake leading into another, you let Rintaro do the same.

Regret churned at your stomach. You could see it perfectly now – the drooping of the Prince’s shoulders, his gaze cast downwards when you bid him farewell. There were still traces of the happiness you felt in Itachiyama lingering on him just as he finally left, ones you were compelled to reach out to before it was too late. But it couldn’t be – you refused to give into your desires when it meant committing a sin. Rintaro didn’t deserve your loyalty, but he was still your husband, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing you’d been exactly like him.

In fact, you might be becoming like him with each passing day, and although you would never say it out loud, you understood him better now.

To find someone who could’ve been yours, someone who would’ve made you so happy against all odds, and to not have them at all – it felt like a cruel joke was being played by the Universe.

Is this what Rintaro felt like? Did he feel as if the world was being unusually cruel to him? Did he wonder what he could’ve done to deserve all this? Because those thoughts ran into your head long enough that you gave up on sleep, and rolled out of bed with a heavy heart and – shamefully – aching with need. Snatching your robe from the closet, you tiptoed out of the room. Rintaro was fast asleep in the sofa, his arm shielding his eyes from the lit candles. When he didn’t budge from his spot at you poking around him, you let out a sigh of relief and left the room. Clicking the door shut, you spun around, coming face to face with a wide eyed maid.

“Heavens!” you placed a hand on your chest, and then chuckled as the maid stepped back and bowed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would still be around.”

The maid frantically shook her head. She scratched the back of her head as her gaze darted around, seemingly determined to not look you in the eye. “No, Your Highness, it was my fault for startling you. I was reassigned to you just now, you see, and… Uhm, I’m Airi. Prince Shinsuke sent me here.”

Airi… You’d heard that name before.

“Oh! Airi. Yes, of course, I remember you,” you nodded, tying the robe around your waist tighter. “Why are you up this late?” At your question, Airi’s cheeks flushed a deep red before turning away.  You smiled to yourself, chuckling under your breath as you gently squeezed her arm. “I understand. You needn’t say anymore.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Would you like to accompany me for a walk?” you gestured to the empty hall. Airi nodded, a little too enthusiastic in picking up her skirts. You figured neither of you wanted to stay here any longer where anyone could easily see you.

Turning to the other direction, you headed for the gardens at the outer wing. It was the closest to your shared room with Rintaro, and coincidentally, an infamous shortcut to Belleview’s surrounding gardens. There had been rumors that Belleview was added in the palace grounds as an afterthought years ago – how a sudden need arose to have a separate place for a married couple. It was bizarre, in your opinion, how this long, seemingly endless path would certainly end up right at Kiyoomi’s doorstep if you were patient enough to brave the half hour walk.

Could you?

Would you?

Absentmindedly, you gnawed at your nails. Your Mother would chastise you for the unladylike gesture if she were here, but it was only you and Airi. She wasn’t going to judge, although you didn’t miss the way she glanced at you so often. Curiosity, maybe, but a question imposed her eyes. Deciding to break the silence, you smiled at the dark-haired maid.

“You’re very pretty. I can see why the Prince fell for you.”

Airi stuttered in her steps. “Oh! Thank you, you’re too kind for that, but I doubt it’s because of the way I look. The Prince and I have known each other since we were kids, that’s all. My mother was a maid too before she died. She was the one who helped raise His Highness,” she babbled, grimacing when she realized your patient smile held little to conceal your amusement. “Uhm… If I may be so bold, my Princess, I think you look rather great for someone who has been cheated on.”

Your brows rose. That you hadn’t expected.

“I do?”

“Yes. You look unbothered by it, or at least, you seem to be doing a great job at it,” she offered a polite smile, “Being a royal must come naturally to you as a noblewoman.”

Unable to help it, you chuckled. Oh, how wrong she was.

“Not at all. I haven’t always been this way,” you told her, watching as your surroundings changed from the marble pillars and into the night sky, where the fresh, cold breeze bit at your skin. You were thankful for it – the cold atmosphere was a great contrast to the blooming, colorful flowers.

It somehow reminded you of Kiyoomi’s gardens, and how you probably wouldn’t see it anymore.

The smile on your face disappeared. The ring on your finger grew heavier, and unbeknownst to you, you started spinning it with your thumb. It was curious, truly, how a week was all it took before you completely lost yourself. You couldn’t remember who you were even like before Itachiyama, before Kiyoomi. Or could it be that the past you had never been fulfilled to begin with? What if you were merely a work in progress, and the you in this moment was the real one?

If that was true, then that could only mean two things you would never want to admit out loud.

One: that you weren’t as in love with your husband as you thought if you couldn’t get Kiyoomi out of your mind, or Two: that the traditional saying and belief was right – your last dance would be your fated lover.

And it would make sense, too. Of course, you were happy with Rintaro. Were. You fell in love with him simply because there was no other appropriate reaction. He was the Crown Prince, a man who called on you every single day and learned about your passions until night came. He charmed your parents, loved them as his own, and proudly presented you to his regal family. It was the kind of love little girls were taught to dream about. The kind of love everyone wanted. You couldn’t blame yourself for craving the Prince’s touch, for giving him all your firsts. It seemed only the right thing to do. He courted you, committed to you, loved you as much as he could – it was logical and methodical.

It was one plus one equals two.

But Kiyoomi? It didn’t feel natural, or a step by step process.

It felt all kinds of wrong because you shouldn’t, and all kinds of right because it’s him. It’s the way he smiles at you when he thinks you’re not looking, or how his head is always turned in the other direction to act like he isn’t listening. He isn’t like Rintaro who never takes his gaze off of you – not because he can’t get enough of your beauty, but because he was watching. Rintaro was always watching, analyzing everything you did, crafting his actions and words perfectly to elicit the response he wanted from you.

His brother was the exact opposite.

Kiyoomi always stayed at the walls and blended in with the background. He never attracted any attention to himself, but would devote his entire focus on you simply because he’s entranced. Or you hoped he might. Surely it couldn’t be one-sided.

You felt it too – the frustration ebbing off of him each time you slipped away. You saw with your own eyes the way his face fell when news of your husband’s affair spread.

He didn’t hate his brother for sleeping with his mistress behind your back. He hated Rintaro for ruining a night that should’ve been yours. A night where his touch could linger on yours for a moment longer as you smiled for the cameras. A night where it’d be appropriate for him to look at you like you’re the star of the show – it’s camaraderie, you’d play off – and a night where he might’ve drove you back at the farmhouse and slowly, tenderly, begin with tugging your gloves off before he moved on to your dress.

Gods. You exhaled. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t be thinking about Kiyoomi, his plump lips that looked inviting, his dark eyes hungrily roaming over you and hoping, praying, that it’d been him instead. These were all wrong – so why were you walking towards Belleview?

“Your Highness?”

Airi’s voice snapped you out of your trance. Blinking, you smiled back at her in apology and continued. “Sorry, I must have been lost in my thoughts. As I was saying, though, I spent most of my life hiding behind my parents’ shadows because I struggled talking to people. And then the Crown Prince came and swept me off my feet, which changed everything. When he came into my life, I figured I had to become someone worthy enough to stay by his side, someone he could be proud to be with. It took a lot of years and effort before I could be confident enough to say I was good enough for him,” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks to look up into the dark horizon before you.

Huh. Why hadn’t you realized that before?

You’d been trying so hard to impress Rintaro all along. Isn’t that why you were so frustrated? You’d spent years molding yourself to become who he wanted, only to be slapped in the face that it was impossible because you could never be her.

You let out a dry laugh. “But apparently not. He already had someone else.”

“I’m really sorry you were dragged into this. From the stories Prince Shinsuke tells me, you’re a kind woman who deserved better.”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t mad upon reading the tabloids about his affair? If anything, I was just furious he couldn’t stay out of trouble and ruined my trip to Itachiyama.”

“Did you like it there?”

“I loved it. I wanted to stay.”

Admitting it out loud felt… liberating. You were beginning to feel more like yourself, even if it meant being less of a Princess and more of this unorthodox woman who simply wanted to be. It must be the side effect of spending time with Kiyoomi. You would soon care less about the rules imposed on you, and unapologetically be yourself.

“But the world sure has a cruel way of bringing you back to reality.”

“Your Highness?”

Both yours and Airi’s head snapped at the sound. Amongst the rustling of the bushes, a tall figure suddenly appeared – all mighty and regal even in his creased blouse and loosely tied breeches. His hair, dark and tousled like he’d run his fingers through it, did little to hide the surprise on his face.

“My Prince,” you breathed out, “What are you doing out here so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And you?”

You fought back a smile at his raspy voice. You could almost picture it – Kiyoomi tossing and turning all night in a bed separate from Iris. The sanguine voice in your head fibbed, too, wondering if the Prince thought about you as well. “It’s a restless night,” was all you let on, and gestured to the shock-still maid beside you. “Airi, do you mind giving us some privacy?”

Vehemently, she shook her head. “Not at all, Princess. Please, call for me if you need anything. I won’t be far.”

You waited as Airi disappeared from sight before you stepped closer to the Prince, compelled by an invisible force to be closer to him. “Kiyoomi–”

“Are you well?”

“Me? Why do you ask?”

He tipped his head to the side, causing a lone curl to fall in front of his eye. You fought back the urge to brush it away, beguiled by his long fingers sweeping it away “You’re in a very difficult position right now, whatnot with the article spreading,” he gestured back to the castle, “Has he spoken to you?”

You shook your head. “He’s kept to himself the past few days. I think this is a lot harder on him than it looks. As for me, well… I’ve had better days.”

True to your word, Rintaro almost secluded himself from the world. He shut off his phone, chucked it at another corner of the room, and never touched it again. It was painful seeing your husband that way when you know of his hobby of endless scrolling. But now, he couldn’t stomach the social media wishing him ill, seeing so blatantly with his own eyes his people’s deference to him. It hurt – more so for him than you – but still, a small part of you wished he’d say something. You were there, were you not?

You cut off your trip short because your husband needed you, and he barely uttered a word since you arrived. It got at your nerves. Nevertheless, you’d give him the time he needed. You planned to keep to your word that you would fix this all for him, regardless of what that might take.

You weren’t so cruel to let your husband be dragged into the pits of hell. Because quite frankly, that wasn’t the media’s right to begin with. If anyone would unleash hell upon Rintaro and Iris, it had to be you.

Kiyoomi scanned your face. “You don’t seem upset about all of this.”

You shrugged. “Their secret would’ve gone out one way or another. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I have far, bigger things to worry about, like you,” you leveled your gaze with his, watching as the Prince sucked in a breath.

Your last conversation with him the past night still played in your mind. It ate away at you to have to say goodbye when you didn’t want to, but he was here now. You woldn’t waste the opportunity to make things right.

Steeling yourself, you shut your eyes tight to gather courage. “Kiyoomi… Your Highness. I… I do not wish to stop talking to you. I know I sound absurd because I haven’t known you that long, but everything we shared in Itachiyama, I cherish it. I won’t forget a single memory I shared with you. So please allow me to take back what I said. I didn’t mean it when I said I would stop talking to you.”

“You should, though.” Opening your eyes, your heart dropped into your stomach when the Prince took a step back. “I don’t think we can be friends, Princess.”

Your hands grew cold and clammy.

“W-Why not? Have I done something to offend you? Tell me, and I will correct it–”

“We cannot be friends because I do not wish to be just your friend.”

Whatever distance he created between you disappeared. In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi had closed the gap in one smooth stride, leaning down close enough his nose nearly brushed yours.

You inhaled sharply at the proximity. Kiyoomi’s heat blanketed you, making you realize you’d been shivering from the cold prior to his arrival. Now, he was here, and your senses were filled to the brim with him – his scent, his warmth, his frame looming over yours making you feel protected instead of small. You couldn’t help it; your fingers twitched to pull him by his collar and finally have his lips pressed to yours. It’d been eating away at you for several nights.

A peck couldn’t hurt.

But you made no move, greedily sharing in the same breaths instead. Because if it was all you could have, then it was all you could get.

“You’re right. It does sound absurd. We have barely spoken to one another, yet I’m already tired  of this stupid game my brother is playing – his foolish plans to become King, make my wife his concubine, all with the intention of keeping you around like a pet. It makes my blood boil,” Kiyoomi grinned, though it was more sinister than genuine. “He cannot have everything for himself. I will not let him.”

“My Prince. I–”

“–Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with you, nor do I have any intentions of stooping down to Rintaro’s level and stealing what isn’t mine,” cruel, you think, as the Prince effectively cut you off with a brush of his thumb to your lips. You were now putty at his hands; melting and knees weakened with nothing but his touch holding you up. “But I am tired of seeing you this distraught over a man who cannot see your worth. I have had enough. So whatever plans you may have to retaliate, tell me, and I will gladly be a pawn in your game. Make your move. You may command me as you please.”

It took a moment before his words dawned on you. When it did, your palms flattened on his chest, absorbing its warmth and feeling the flutter of his heart underneath your fingertips. He felt so alive, whole, and well – you couldn’t possibly drag him into your mess.

“I could never use you like that. You know this.”

“So you do have a plan in mind,” he noted with a smirk, fingers crawling up to circle your wrist. “My brother really underestimated you, hasn’t he? You’re already proving to be far more dangerous than any sword.”

You flushed warm at his compliment. Pretty, yes, Rintaro has called you that multiple times. Beautiful, gorgeous, even, but dangerous? It made you feel powerful, like the crown was already on your head, and the kingdom was all yours for the taking. But greed often started out as a small flicker of fire, and you stomped on it as quickly as it breathed into life. You were no thrill seeker – you would not dabble or tread in dangerous, unknown, forbidden paths. Such paths like Kiyoomi, but it was there. The temptation. The calling to just reach out to the hand he’s offered.

Its voice beckoned you. Come, it whispered oh-so-sweetly at your ear, he is your puppet.

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “It isn’t a good plan at all, and the Queen has summoned us – all of us – to inform us of her decisions on how we will proceed with this scandal. There’s a good chance Her Majesty might get in the way, but I’m determined. I need this plan to work.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I plan on turning the tables around and pinning it on Iris. I know it’s dangerous – she’s your wife, and you might get caught in the crossfire–”

“Do as you please.”

“Are you serious?”

Kiyoomi nodded with resolve. “When I said I do not wish to be just your friend, I meant it. I want you to use me. I want to be your weapon,” nudging his nose with yours, he brought up your hand to his lips, kissing the glimmering diamond on your ring. A kiss of rebellion, a war cry, or a silent plea to be dominated – it said everything and too little all at once. “If there is anything I can do to help you escape this royal hell, I will do it.”

You closed your fist around his lips, and basked in the ghostly flutters it will leave upon your skin hours after he has gone. Then, you questioned it all: how could something so poignant evoke a raging will within you?

“It will be hard for you, Your Highness,” you warned him, “My plan is not a kind one.”

“I do not have very kind thoughts myself,” he chuckled, the sound dark and ominous. “But you should be careful, Princess. Iris is not who you think she is. If you are to proceed with your plan, you need to watch out for yourself, and Maiko especially.”

Maiko? What could Maiko’s involvement with Iris be?

“She won’t hurt Maiko, will she?”

“She wouldn’t dare, but I can’t guarantee she won’t try doing something to you,” with a wary gaze, Kiyoomi immediately masked it with that of indifference. Scanning the surroundings, and hearing nothing but the crickets of insects and the rustling of bushes from the wind, Kiyoomi wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you back. Iris is probably somewhere close.”

You were never one to feel much fear, but in that moment, a sense of numbing chill settled in your bones. Goosebumps arose on your skin. It was almost like you could feel it – her sharp gaze, her wicked and deceivingly innocent smile. You shivered despite yourself and huddled closer to the Prince, letting him guide you through the garden’s maze when his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Do you wish to know what would make Iris tick?”

“What?”

“It may be Rintaro who she wants,” his breathy voice caressed you, sending a different set of shivers down your spine. “But it is I whom she would kill to keep. Present yourself as a threat, make her believe you can steal me from her, and you will find her willingly offering Rintaro to you.”

You scoffed. “And if I don’t want him?”

“Then you shall always have me.”

Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi…

The Prince’s last words haunted you. Moreover, the way he looked with the moonlight illuminated upon him… he felt surreal. He came to you in your dreams more than once, caressing you in places he shouldn’t be touching, filling you in ways you never thought possible. A part of you wondered if it was merely your brain coping with the fact you’d mistakenly lain in bed with Rintaro. How you’ve felt disgusted with yourself ever since, and found it hard to look in the mirror. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the brain – replacing the man who left marks on you with the man that could’ve made you feel better. And you knew Prince Kiyoomi would – with those large, calloused hands, and luscious lips you spent countless hours gazing upon… would it be such a sin to wish they hadn’t been dreams only?

Picking up the nearby body wash, you scrubbed yourself clean of Rintaro. Your body still ached from last night’s events, but your heart clenched for an entirely different reason. Seriously. You couldn’t believe it. First, he’d let himself get caught in the action, and you let him sleep with you? You could’ve pushed him away. You could’ve said no.

It didn’t have to lead to whatever happened last night.

But then again, laughing to yourself, why did you chastise yourself so much? He was your husband. You were both married – sleeping with him wasn’t a mistake. Yet why did it feel like it? It felt as if… you kept on letting him take and take from you. How long until you’ve had enough? How much more could you give before there was nothing left of you?

You sighed, sinking deeper under the water. It’d been hours since your previous encounter with the older prince, and he hadn’t left your mind since. His offer for you to make use of him like he was a weapon, or worse, a tool, wasn’t an opportunity you could let pass by.

You could make use of him. He had more access to Iris than you ever could, and planting spies in Belleview Manor sounded terrible. She’d probably won over their loyalty judging by the way they kept their mouths shut that first night you arrived there to give her tea for her ‘headache.’ She had secrets, that you were sure of, but did Kiyoomi know them too? What was her connection with Maiko? Surely… Maiko wasn’t involved in whatever schemes they had in mind. The Princess was too sweet and innocent for that, but then again, so was Iris. The so called ‘dear friend’ of your boyfriend before he’d asked for your hand in marriage.

This was proving to be nearly impossible.

It was hard to tell who to trust within the Palace. Kita would be at your side, but you couldn’t possibly involve him in your plan. He might not even approve of it. It would be against the law, and it wasn’t the kindest thing one could think of. Kita would call it ‘the opposite of justice.’

“I hope the meeting went well, Princess?”

Popping your head from the water, you watched as Airi entered the room, folded towels in her arms. She’d prepared a bath for you long before you arrived, the water warm and filled with bubbles – just how you liked it. The room smelled faintly of roses, too, and you made a mental note to thank Airi for her efforts.

“It was great. His Highness and I discussed a lot,” he almost kissed me, too, but she didn’t need to know that, or the fact you wished he did. “Oh, and Airi.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

You pondered over it, you really did it. It was out of your character to abuse the power you had, yet you couldn’t stop the heat flaring in your veins. The pettiness that begged to be revealed. “Could you have someone call L’Essenxe Royale? Tell them I want them to discontinue their Vanilla Candy line because I’m allergic to it, and it would be a shame if I had to stop purchasing their perfumes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Airi nodded, stopping in her tracks after a beat. “I wasn’t informed you were allergic to vanilla. I’m sorry, I’ll do better in catering to your needs more.”

“I’m not allergic. I just don’t want to smell Iris ever again.”

Just before Airi could respond, the doors swung open. Suna sauntered in like he owned the place, the top three buttons of his white shirt undone and loose. His collarbones and the top of his chest shone with sweat, his skin flushed and his dark hair messily swept to the sides. He must’ve gone for his early training – and damned him for looking good.

You snorted inwardly. But Prince Kiyoomi probably looked better.

“There you are. I didn’t get to see you before I left.”

“Airi, please give us a moment,” you requested from where you sat, arms lazily resting on the sides of the tub. Airi scurried out of the room with reddened cheeks – no doubt picturing what events could transpire between a naked wife and her insatiable husband. And speaking of said husband, he’d leant against the pristine white walls, arms crossed against his chest as he let those dark, hooded eyes roam over your exposed skin.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I think the real pleasure here is this view.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that what you told your mistress too when you fucked her in my bed?”

Suna paused. It was a bait; he was sure of it. Choosing not to bite at your provocation, he pushed his weight off the wall and gestured to the doors. “You redecorated the room,” he announced, “Without my permission.���

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission. I thought we made it clear – under your suggestion – that I was to sleep in that bed, and you take the couch outside. Technically, that would make it my room, no?”

“You made Airi burn the sheets.”

“Sue me.”

“You threw away Iris’ clothes.”

“They barely counted as clothes, Your Highness. They were just thongs.”

“If this is about last night–”

“Last night was a mistake. Never speak of it again,” you warned, and just the mere reminder that you’d let him have his way with you, and you were too weak to refuse, again, no longer made the relaxing bath enjoyable. All of Airi’s efforts poured down the drain because having Suna around had your muscles stiffening with tension again. Rising from the bath, you wiped off the bubbles and suds off your body before stepping out. “What did you truly come here for? You never bother me when I’m bathing.”

Suna’s hungry gaze followed your every movement. The perverted bastard wasn’t even trying to hide it – his poor attempts of adjusting his breeches a failure once you’d put on your robe. “Her Majesty has summoned us for breakfast. She has an important announcement to make. I suggest you make haste so she won’t be anymore upset with us.”

“With you, you mean,” you waved around your lip balm, “What? Don’t look so offended. I am not the one who caused a scandal here.”

“I’m tired of arguing with you.”

You couldn’t agree more. Smacking your lips together, you walked past him, making sure to sashay your hips as you did. But before you could leave the room, Suna’s hand shot out to wrap it around your wrist. Gently, he pulled you back into him until your breasts brushed with his chest, the dampness of your robe making his shirt stick even harder on his skin.

 “Wait,” he breathed out, not once taking his eyes off you as he blindly swiped for a towel. “Let me dry you off properly. It would be a shame if you made a mess on your newly decorated room.”

Your husband fell down on his knees before you could say a word.

You almost asked him what he was doing when his hands tugged at the ties of your robes, his tender touch pushing them past your shoulders until the robe pooled at your feet. You inhaled sharply. Suna was kneeling before you, caressing your leg and urging you to place at his thigh. You don’t know what compelled you to obey, but you did. Resting it on his leg, you felt too exposed – his nose was right at your stomach, his hands touching everywhere but that one place near your heat.

It was torture.

The entire act was done with slow, purposeful motions. Like an artist taking great care with his sculptures, he pressed hard on your hips to keep you in place when you shivered. His strength, his silent gestures that he wouldn’t let you slip and fall – it broke your heart.

Why couldn’t he love you?

Why couldn’t he touch you this way and mean it?

Why did he have to remove his ring?

The glint of the golden material caught your attention from the vanity. You picked it up where he left it last night, unconsciously hugging it to your chest until you fell asleep. Until now, you’d brought it with you, and stared at it hard enough it might’ve melted. It never did, just as he would never belong to you. And then – his finger swiped over your nipple, the cloth on his hands now damp and his breath staggering as he moved to kiss your bare stomach.

You pushed his head away.

Suna stumbled back, barely. He sat there with a dazed expression, the towel he used to dry you with now forgotten. His hands shook in his lap, his eyes blown wide with something you couldn’t quite name – longing, regret, frustration. Whatever it was, it matched yours.

“I’m dry enough,” you told him, snatching off his ring from the counter and flicking it his way. The two of you watched as it stumbled along the ground with a loud clink, clink, clink, before it rolled right at his feet. When you finally found the courage to speak, your voice was so quiet – you couldn’t hear yourself at all. “Wear it. I don’t care that it no longer means anything to you. I won’t have you causing anymore problems for me when your mother asks about it.”

When you and Suna sat next to each other at the dining hall, neither of you spoke a word.

In fact, not a single person present dared to. Her Majesty sat at the head of the table, the clink of her utensil the only thing audible as she furiously cut into her steak. She was furious, that much was obvious. Even Crown Prince Ushijima hadn’t touched his meal, and his young son, barely a boy of eight, had his lips shut the entire time.

Finally, she takes a bite, takes a huge drink of her wine, and slams the glass down. All of you jump at the sound.

“It is not every day we can all be gathered here, but as you are all aware, it is a trifling time for the Crown. We as the royal family need to be united now more than ever,” she announced, her back straight as she looked everyone in the eye. “Which is why I am here to inform everyone of some minor changes we will implement from now on, and some events we have planned for the next season. First of all, Princess–” she pointed her knife your way, “-I need you to hold your mother back. She’s getting on my nerves with all her incessant calling.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she lifted her chin, “Your Mother hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article was released. She demands I return her to you, but I think she forgets her place and yours. You are a Princess now; you are the Crown’s property. You are to stay here and see to your duties until you take your last breath.”

Forcing a smile, you willed yourself to calm down. “My mother was merely concerned, Your Majesty. I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you to tell her to stand down. I have already spoken with my advisors our next course of action and have all decided that we will deny Rintaro and Iris’ affair by all means. We are to pretend as if the article never existed. We need to show we are the Crown, the monarchs and rulers of this grand kingdom. We will not be swayed by measly gossip and defaming rumors.”

“But it wasn’t a rumor. The Crown Prince did sleep with the Princess.”

Her Majesty sighed, the sound dramatically drawn out. “Do you have any complaints, my dear? Because if you did, then you should have attended the meeting this morning.”

You gritted your teeth. “I wasn’t informed there was one.”

“That’s a shame – I thought Rintaro would tell you. It seems he likes to keep his secrets, then,” she jabbed, and your husband nervously sipped his wine as you glared at the sides of his head. “Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we planned a few events for this season. For this month, the four of you will be showing up to public events and you are to appear united in marriage. Laugh, kiss, hold hands – I do not care. Just make sure the cameras get it, and if anyone dares ask on any clarifications about the affair, simply tell them that it is very easy to fabricate photographs nowadays. You will deny everything. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” agreed Suna, and you scoffed. Snaking his hands under the table, he squeezed yours in assurance and whispered, “Don’t cause a scene in front of the Queen. We will talk later about this.”

“I was hoping we would.”

“Next, Iris and Y/N will be having weekend dates to show they are friends. We have already contacted an orphanage you will pay a visit to. Play with the kids, read storybooks with them, and get as many pictures as possible. Not only will it show that there’s camaraderie between you two, but hanging out with children will also imply that we can expect a next line of heirs soon.”

“A splendid idea!” Atsumu beamed, the first to dig into his meal. Rather, the Prince was halfway finished stuffing his mouth, happily rubbing his hands together at the thought. “This will all be good for the Crown, and to win the people’s trust back.”

“You really don’t know how to shut up, huh?” muttered Osamu.

“Your Majesty. Don’t you think this is going too far?” Tobio spoke up, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. Beside him, Prince Shinsuke was pleading for him to sit back down. The youngest Prince merely slapped his hands away, looking betrayed by his brother’s words. “Why is no one speaking up? Is this how the royal family really is? You would all lie to your people, deceive them we are all in one heart and mind when we are not. Is that the kind of rulers we aspire to be? Are we really the rulers they look up to?”

Prince Shinsuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand you’re upset, but the throne wouldn’t have lasted this long if none of us pulled some strings and kept up deceiving acts. Trust me, I also do not wish to take a part in this, but Her Majesty is right. The people are already growing restless that we have been without a King for years – having Crown Prince Rintaro’s reputation tarnished will not make this better. And as far as I know, there are still many protests against having an illegitimate child on the throne,” he reminded, causing Prince Ushijima to clear his throat awkwardly. Still, Shinsuke pushed on. “Rintaro is the King the Cabinet wants. We must follow the law. Ushijima can only be crowned King until we have ran out of options.”

Your jaw dropped.

“And what of me?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, the future of the Kingdom is a heavier matter at hand than your broken heart,” Iris quipped, “Besides, if you knew about our relationship prior to the marriage, then you cannot blame anyone but yourself. You’re in this predicament because you were too cowardly to let go when given the chance.”

“That’s enough!” Tobio yelled. “You all need to stop talking about her like that. You’re all right – the Crown is more important. We need a stable ruler and for the people to not lose their trust in us. But the Princess is still a human. She was lied to, manipulated, and constantly looked down on. The least you can do right now is let her acknowledge her pain, seeing as it is clearly too much for each and every one of you to be decent human beings!”

Her Majesty paid him no mind. Waving her hand in the air dismissively, she sighed. “He is young. He will understand someday.”

At her nonchalance, Tobio’s nostrils flared. It was the last you saw of him before he kicked his chair back, storming out of the hall before everyone erupted into protests. Keiji slunk back into his seat, Shinsuke was immediately making efforts to appease the Queen by apologizing on everyone’s behalf, and Maiko was crying. And you? You glowered at the Queen before following after Tobio, the three other Princes right at your heels.

The doors slammed shut behind you.

You could hear the Princes running after you. Two pairs were rushing, but one pair of footfalls sounded more like stomping. Before you could turn down the hall where Tobio went, you were dragged by, Suna firmly gripping your elbow as he halted you in your tracks.

“Her Majesty was speaking,” he hissed, fingers digging harder to your skin. “Don’t be rude.”

“Oh, fuck off, Rintaro. I can’t believe you right now. Letting me be friends with your mistress? Really? And you didn’t even tell me there was a meeting this morning!”

His free hand ran through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would act like this. You would’ve embarrassed me in front of the advisors. Besides, you left before I could–”

“I embarrass you? Do you even hear yourself? You’re the embarrassing one for going behind my back and sleeping with your mistress–”

“She’s not my mistress!”

“Isn’t she? I wasn’t aware there was another word to describe a woman frolicking with a married man!”

His grip grew tighter as he spoke, and you squeaked out in pain. You tried to pry his fingers off of you, but Suna wasn’t having any of it. “You’re one to talk, leaving me here in this country to go around dancing with my brother–” Your husband’s face disappeared before you. In the blink of an eye, he was shoved nearly across the room and falling right at his ass.

Kiyoomi stood protectively over you, his chest rising and falling as he shook with anger.

“Stay away from my wife!”

Meanwhile, Tooru dodged between Suna and Kiyoomi, the former rising on his feet and reeling his arm back in a punch. Tooru effortlessly caught his brother’s arm, but holding him back was a different struggle of itself. “Rin, that’s enough!”

“Are you okay?”

You blinked back from the scene. Kiyoomi was now holding your arm where Suna grabbed you, checking for any injuries. Aside from a little aching, and a possible bruise that would show up tomorrow, you were unharmed. Still, the Prince wasn’t assured. His thick brows pinched together in concern, turning your arm over and over as he muttered to himself the violent things he wished to do to his brother. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not really, but I want to go after Tobio.”

Kiyoomi nodded in understanding. “Go. I’ll handle this.”

You shared a knowing look with him. I’m on your side, his eyes said, and that was enough to reassure you. Giving him a nod, you quickly turned on your heels and ran. You ran and ran until you were out of breath, your corset digging into you uncomfortably. The youngest Prince sure was a fast one – he’d already reached his own study in such a short time.

Peeking through the partially closed door, your heart broke at the sight.

Prince Tobio sat on his painter’s stool, an unfinished portrait of you – smiling in your wedding dress – lay before him. He was crying, sniffling to himself and wiping his tears with the collar of his blouse. Even the sounds of his cries were too painful to hear.

Shutting the door behind you, you took your place behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders to make him look up. When he did, his bloodshot eyes greeted you.

“I’m sorry you had to witness all of that,” you tell him softly, “I didn’t mean to ruin breakfast for you.”

Tobio shook his head. He pulled out a handkerchief before blowing on it, and you smiled despite yourself – he’d grown so much, yet he was still that sweet, naïve boy in your eyes. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had his debut, and now he was flourishing into such a great, young man. Your little brother, the sweetest Prince – you would do anything for him.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, sis. You’re the victim here.”

You laughed a little. Victim sounded too poor of a word choice. Turning to the canvas before you, you gestured to it. “What are you painting?”

“You,” he admitted with red cheeks, “I started on this when Rintaro announced he’d be marrying you so I could give it as a wedding gift. But Her Majesty wanted me to focus on my studies, so I didn’t have enough time to finish. I mean, it’s not even the same dress you wore on your wedding so it’s inaccurate–”

“-It looks beautiful.”

“It’s still unfinished,” his shoulders slumped in your flattery before he lightened up, already moving to pick up the brushes as he wiped his snot with his hanky. “Since you’re here, would you like me to paint you as you are now? I’ll get a new canvas.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose all your efforts on your previous painting.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, and per his instruction, you sat stiffly to ‘pose’ for him. It’s a little awkward, and Tobio struggled to sketch you each time you fidgeted, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. Midway through his sketch, though, he placed his pencil down, his eyes brimming with tears again. “I still can’t believe Rintaro was capable of being so cruel. I’ll never forgive him for what he did,” he said, his lower lip quivering. “Are they really like this? Is everyone in the Palace truly so heartless? Will I… never find love of my own, too?”

“Oh, Tobio,” you reached your arms out, crushing him to your chest. The Prince’s tears dampened your dress, though you paid it no mind. He was too young for all this hurt – this war over the crown. He was too good for a cruel place like this. “It will get easier someday.”

Fisting your skirt, he buried his face to your neck, his whole body shivering under you. “I never wanted to be a Prince. I-I wanted to keep playing sports and go pro someday. There’s a whole world out there for me to see, and I’m so afraid I’ll never become the person I want to be. I’m afraid I might turn out like my brothers.”

You pulled back to make him look at you. Cupping his face with your hands, you shook your head firmly. “That’s not true, Tobio. You’re already a thousand times better than your brothers. Look, you’re sweet, kind, and passionate. Who says you don’t deserve to achieve your dreams? You can be who you want to be. You can see the world. I promise you that I’ll support you in anything you want to do. Anything.”

“Really?” grinning, he wiped his cheeks free from his tears. “Then… will you come to my game? There’s a match and the Coach just added me to the team. It… Well, it might be a good opportunity for you and everyone else to show you’re unaffected by the scandal, too.”

“Oh, forget the scandal. I only want to see you play,” you tell him, and the Prince’s innocent smile is so big and bright it soothed all the aches in your heart. You promised to yourself, then and there, that you would do what it takes to protect that smile. “Now, should we get to this painting?”

That talk with Tobio filled you with unwavering resolve.

The poor boy didn’t deserve to spend a minute longer in the Palace. It simply wasn’t a place for him. He needed to be out there, living his life to the fullest, and to be surrounded by good people who were healthy for him. Not his greedy, cheating brothers, and most especially not with the heartless Queen as his only mother figure.

You had to do something for him. You had to weaken the throne even further, exploit their weakness and make the monarchy crumble. If not for you, then you would do it for Tobio.

It was the reason you’d gained enough courage to dial the number weighing heavily in your pockets long before Itachiyama. That piece of paper Kiyoomi slipped into your coat just before you parted ways. You should’ve known it back then – Kiyoomi was somehow always one step ahead of you. It’s like he knew what you wanted to happen before you said out loud. What you needed before you told him what it was. And you’d done it – scheduled the meeting, hired a private chauffer, and rented out a restaurant in the middle of nowhere at the dead time of the night before you could change your mind.

Do it For Tobio. For Kiyoomi. For you.

He arrived not a minute later than the designated time. He stood tall and confident – seemingly unbothered by the mass of hate he’d accumulated. Sauntering in through the doors with a smirk, he let out a low whistle, impressed with the lack of people. You had promised him privacy, after all, and if you wanted to succeed in your plans, you couldn’t be shy in splurging a little bit of money.

“Kuroo Tetsurou, was it?”

“Your Highness,” he greeted with a bow, his smile growing wider as he pulled out his chair. He’s handsome, with a smile you wouldn’t deem trustworthy, and he held an aura to him that warned you to tread carefully. He was, after all, the man who singlehandedly exposed your husband’s affair. “I am flattered by your efforts, though I must admit. I did not expect you would reach out to me of all people. I assumed you wanted my head.”

You offer him a polite smile. “You have it all wrong. In fact, I’m thankful for the opportunity you’ve presented to me,” leaning forward, you slid a thin envelope his way. Inside it contained a document of your own words, one you trusted Kuroo would twist to sound more convincing. “I want you to publish another article.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. He waited for a beat, a moment or two, for you to say you didn’t mean it. You could’ve been joking. But you hold his gaze, your smile just as firm, refusing to waver from his intense gaze. “With all due respect, Ma’am, I think I’m already in enough trouble for that last one.”

Fair enough. You didn’t think he’d be that easy to convince.

Reaching beside you, you pulled out a case and clicked open the locks for him. If Kuroo was surprised before, he was most definitely flabbergasted by now. Wads of cash piled against each other stared back at him – temping him to reach out and take it. Smiling to yourself, you gently nudged the case in his direction.

“This is half of what I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you twice as much once you’ve done your part,” you promised, “You don’t need to fear, Mr. Kuroo. I’ll guarantee your protection if you do this for me.”

Kuroo chuckled to himself. Shutting the case back shut, he was quick to slide it to his side – deal done and closed. “If a lovely Princess is asking so nicely, I can’t possibly turn it down, can I?” pulling out a small notebook from his coat, Kuroo uncaps his pen with a twist of his teeth. “So let’s get into it. What story do you want, Ma’am? Do you want the truth or… something more scandalous than your husband’s affair?”

“I want you to ruin Iris,” you declared, “Inside that envelope is a list of people the Princess frequently interacts with, as well as records from her history dating back from when she moved here with mother. I want you to look into everything and pick apart whatever could destroy her reputation. There are secrets that she keeps, and I want them out in the public.”

Kuroo doesn’t bother writing that down. “Her reputation is well ruined already, Ma’am. I doubt much could make it worse.”

Your brow shoots up. “Are you doubting my abilities or questioning my demands?”

“Neither,” he reassured with a mischievous grin, “I shall write something about her, then, but what about the Crown Prince? Do I still have the assurance of your protection if he comes after me for messing with his precious little thing?”

Oh, please. His ‘precious little thing’ doesn’t even want him.

Spinning your wedding finger with your thumb, you stared at it. “Tell me, Kuroo. You’re a journalist, one that wasn’t invited at that private party my husband was in. So why were you there that night? Most importantly, how did you get their photos?” you brought your gaze back up to him, “You’re not secretly planning for the downfall of the crown, are you?”

Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness. But to answer your question, then no, I wasn’t invited. I wouldn’t even know a single thing about their affair if it wasn’t for one of you.”

“One of us?” you echoed, “Are you saying someone in the royal family hired you as well?”

“Indeed. Though I must say, I never expected working with just one of you could have me set for life. What more if I teamed up with you too?”

So your theories were right. That article didn’t appear out of nowhere – someone wanted it to happen. “It was Iris, wasn’t it? She asked you to publish that because she knew I was with her husband… but that wouldn’t make any sense. That article puts her in a bad light. It couldn’t be her, right?”

“You’ll be surprised, Ma’am, but it was not the Princess,” he clarified.

Kuroo’s face pinched in contemplation, and then suddenly, pulls out a different phone from his pockets. It’s a beat-up iPhone with its battery nearly dead, but with a few clicks here and there, the video played loud and clear. The camera is shaky, the angles all wrong. Whoever recorded it clearly seemed to be inebriated. Yet there it was – the unmistakable masculine voice groaning, the slapping of skin against each other, and a high-pitched womanly moan. The camera caught nothing but long, blond hair flowing on top of her bouncing breasts before the camera was flipped, finally showing the culprit –

“Atsumu?”

Atsumu gripped Yuki’s hips, shoving the phone between their bodies to show the pistoning of his cock in and out of her. There was no point denying it now. Both their faces were clear from the video, and if this got out…

Kuroo paused the video. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this, but the Prince hasn’t kept up to his end of the bargain, so I might as well ask for your help, too,” shutting the phone off, Kuroo rested his chin on his hands. “That night, he slept with an intoxicated actress and accidentally filmed themselves in the act. The Prince was drunk himself, made the mistake of posting that video online, and merely eighteen minutes later, any traces of their sex tape disappeared. Curious?”

The pieces of the puzzle finally fit.

“He called you to write about Iris and Rintaro to cover up his scandal.”

He snapped his fingers. “Bingo! And he succeeded, even if it was an impulsive decision on his side. Still, the Prince paid me handsomely because he was desperate, but he hasn’t offered me protection like he promised. I’m being hunted down by the Queen’s goons as we speak. Isn’t that why you offered to have me chauffeured here?”

You knew Kuroo prioritized his safety over money due to his current predicament. It was the reason why you risked sneaking out of the Palace and meeting him alone. His terms were clear – no witnesses, no guards, just you and him. You would keep to your word if it meant cornering Iris, but with Atsumu and that poor actress thrown into the mix… things just got more complicated.

Reaching out for Kuroo, you squeezed his hand. “You will be safe with me. I promise you this.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

You glanced at the iPhone between you two. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kuroo, but now that you know he’d do pretty much anything for money, you couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just Atsumu’s reputation you were worried about – firstly, Rintaro would kill him if he found out it was all his doing. Second, that poor actress. She rose to fame in her career recently; this would ruin her image. If things took the wrong turn, who was to stop the Queen from forcing the two to get married if that tape was leaked? You couldn’t risk any cracks in your plan.

“Kuroo, may I have that phone?”

“It’s all yours if you throw in another five grand, Princess.”

“Consider it mine then.”

You and Kuroo left immediately after everything was settled. Just as promised, you would cover all his travel expenses. He would stay overseas to ensure his protection while he reached out to his connections to get all the information he needed, and once the article was ready, he’d publish it and disappear from the media. You covered that too – he was paid enough to live comfortably while in hiding. Now, you only needed to wait for everything to go according to plan.

First, the downfall of Iris. Next, her separation with Kiyoomi without having to let Rin ascend to the throne. And once she’s finally out of the picture, you’ll move on to your beloved husband. You’ll seduce him, have him fall completely to your whim, make him realize he could never have anyone like you again – and once he’s wrapped around your finger, you’ll plea for divorce.

A heart for a heart. A marriage for a marriage.

And if the odds play into your favor at the end of it all, there’s only one destination in mind: Kiyoomi’s farmhouse in Itachiyama.

You smiled to yourself – it would work out. You had a good feeling about it. Kiyoomi is supporting you and acting as your spy, Kita is backing you up on the grounds for divorce, and the nation has unwaveringly showed their support for you in these trying times. After all, you were just the poor, neglected wife. They expected you to spend your days crying and chasing after your deceitful husband, or to simply take it all – be silent and smile for the cameras.

Fuck what the Queen said. You won’t let her win.

Driving back to the Palace, you glanced at the time. It’s almost four in the morning, and soon, Her Majesty would be beginning her routine and expecting her daily calls from the Princes. Pressing harder on the gas, you sped up until a glint catches your eye. You glance at the rearview mirror, eyes widening at the fast approaching car from behind – a sleek, black car with the royal family’s crest on it. Shit. But – it couldn’t be the royal guards. You’d made sure no one would see you, and Airi had gotten your note to slip some sleeping pills into Rintaro’s tea so you could sneak out. Kiyoomi was informed of your plans, too, and he’d reassured he’d hold the fort down while you dealt with Kuroo.

Unless Iris had snooped through his phone and found everything out, then –

You wasted no time. You drove faster, reaching for the gun in your glove compartment as the roaring of the car behind you moved in closer and closer. Heart pounding in your chest, you speed-dialed Kiyoomi, praying to any God who was listening that he would pick up. It couldn’t be Iris, it shouldn’t be her. God forbid she does anything to provoke you into pulling the trigger.

Infidelity was one thing, but the murder of a royal family member was not something one could merely frown at. You didn’t want to be thrown into jail.

The call did not push through.

“Fuck!” you slammed your feet on the gas, watching as the car sped up even more until it was now next to you. You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but the mammoth of trees and a never ending road with darkness clouding the path. Just then, the windows rolled down, and you waited with bated breath as the face finally came into view.

Dark hair was the first thing you saw. The windows rolled down, down, down, until you were staring deep into your husband’s eyes. Brow cocked, he smirked, raising the phone to show he’d been calling you – that’s why you couldn’t call Kiyoomi. Suna was interrupting the line. Shit, how was he even awake right now?

Moreover, how did he find you?

You scowled to yourself. There was no outrunning him now. Suna was a ridiculously good driver, and there was no way you would ever use a gun on him. Steeling yourself, you forced yourself to regulate your breathing – your efforts boon when Suna suddenly pressed on forward until he was a feet away from you, maneuvered his car with the hood facing your direction, and then just – stopped.

Bracing your hands on the wheel, you forced all your energy to release its power on the slamming of your brakes. The skidding of your car squeaked for what seemed like minutes until finally – finally – your came to a halt. You were breathing hard, the back of your head aching from the impact of it crashing to the headrest. Meanwhile, Suna opened his car doors in slow, languid movements, the ends of his leather black trench coat hitting the pavement. With nothing but the headlights of his car illuminating him, he looked more like an omen of death than a Prince – dressed in a white turtleneck, black pants, and a long coat that highlighted his tall figure. He looked ominous, like he carried sorrow and pain with him – pain that he was about to make you feel.

Because you knew – of course you knew; you knew him better than anyone – that the placid smile he wore was anything but.

He slammed the car doors shut. Leaning against the hood, Suna’s gloved hands reached for a lighter in his pocket as he lit his cigarette, the stick hanging from between his lips. As soon as it flickered, he pocketed the lighter back, using two of his fingers to make a ‘come hither’ gesture at you.

Clearly, you spoke too early. The odds were not in your favor.

You exited your vehicle, hands gripping the edges of the door as you gathered to courage to take one more step towards him. It wasn’t that you were afraid – he wouldn’t hurt you, not really. But too much could be taken away from you in such little time – Kuroo couldn’t have gone far, and Atsumu’s sex tape was still in the backseat. You didn’t trust Rintaro to not ruin your plans. And you wouldn’t let him, not now when you were so close to victory.

One step, two steps, three steps – your heels clicked against the road as you walked, making sure to keep your chin pointed north. Hips swaying to the side, you finally ended up before him – right between his spread legs – your husband leaning back at the hood of his car whilst he sized you up, his free hand resting behind him.

“Funny seeing you here,” he drawled out, his voice thick with barely-held back rage. “They told me you were sleeping, but last time I checked, driving while falling asleep was illegal.”

“Cheating is also illegal.”

“Your comebacks are getting old, my love.”

Your head snapped to his direction. He hadn’t called you that in forever, not since you’d returned from your honeymoon. To have him call you that now, with such a deeply rich, smooth voice and sounding like he’d just woken up, all breathy and rasp – could it be possible to fuck someone to death?

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” tipping his head to the side, Suna’s lips slowly formed into a smirk. He took a drag of his cigarette, keeping his eyes on yours as he wrapped those lips around the stick – delicately and tantalizingly slow – just like how he did when he worshipped you in bed. You breathed out hard and attempted to take a step back, but he was having none of it. Swiftly, he’d tugged on your shirt to pull you close to him, causing you to stumble and fall into his lap. Above you, your husband’s chest rumbled with amusement.

“Look at you. Always so weak for me.”

He leaned in close, his scent of smoke and expensive woodsy perfume enveloping you. It’s addicting, just as he is, and your knees grew weak. Your legs slid down just as Suna wraps a strong arm around your waist to hitch you back in place, your core resting above his thigh. There, he spreads you open with just his knees, his warm lips suddenly attaching themselves to your neck. You gasped out, hands falling to his shoulders in a measly attempt to pull him away – and oh.

Suna had different plans in mind.

“You,” he breathed in your ear, his gloved fingers popping the button of your blouse one by one. “cannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness. You can slip in as many drugs you want in my drinks, you can kill me a hundred times and fuck me over again and again, but don’t you dare forget,” growling lowly in your ear, your husband took your chin in his hands and forced you to gaze deep into his eyes – pools of hazel swirling with need and wrath – “Not even death can do us part. I’ll keep on looking for you even if you try to hide at the ends of the earth.”

[sleepynoons]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU BY MARIAH CAREY– neuvillette (genshin) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut word count – ~3,100 warnings – age gap, lingerie, oral (receiving), fingering synopsis – it's your first winter with neuvillette, and where you grew up, it's customary to celebrate by exchanging presents, eating delicious food, and spending quality time with loved ones. even though neuvillette is overwhelmed with work at the moment, you're excited to surprise him.

Neuvillette is known for his lack of personal greed, with the exception of his indisputable particular taste for certain flavors of water. Because of his asceticism, intentional or not, it had been difficult for the two of you to enter the relationship you now are in, but with the incredible aid and full support of the Melusines, the Chief Justice finally distinguished your feelings of likeness separate from others of friendliness and sociability.

To his end, though, you are known for your intensity, speech sharp with judgment, gaze watchful and vigilant, pen always in hand, scribbling away at a new manuscript or op-ed for The Steambird. Originating from Sumeru, you had been well aware of the turmoil brewing within the Akademiya, and managed to flee, even with such knowledge, to Fontaine. Here, you have been able to continue your studies from where you left off, as well as pursue your own endeavors in writing, which had long been restricted when you were a student. In fact, it was precisely due to one of your well-received yet controversial pieces in the newspaper that had landed you an opportunity to interview Neuvillette and ask him questions on questions regarding his thoughts on governance, the limitations of rule and government, and checks and balances.

You intended it to be a one-off instance, fully knowing that the Chief Justice is incredibly busy. However, you had a bad habit of losing track of time, and he is more than happy to speak in length, and your first conversation did not end on a fulfilling thought. As a result, for several months on end, you would spend two hours every three weeks with Neuvillette, which, by then, it was more than obvious you had developed intimate feelings for him.

Of course, even though you two are now a couple, the dynamics of your schedule have not differed by much. Neuvillette still has a limited amount of time to see you, though it is permissible for you to make more spontaneous visits to his office, if you are so inclined. But being the studious writer that you are, you still have not acted upon this privilege yet.

“You really should take up more of his time!”

You squint your eyes over the rim of the teacup that you are sipping from, taking several moments to think of a proper response. A part of you is still ruminating over the last draft of your manuscript, something you have been losing sleep over to make it in time for the deadline for The Streambird’s short story contest at the end of the month, but you know you should be more focused on the conversation at hand. After all, while Miss Furina is beloved by the people and is commonly seen out and about, it is still rare for her to request a private audience with someone as little of importance socially, politically, economically as you are.

“Miss Furina, I’m not sure I follow?” is the best you can manage. You take another sip as the celebrity huffs in disappointment.

“How trite! It has been so long since my last visit to the Palais Mermonia, yet even I’ve been made aware of Neuvillette’s situation! Please tell me you at least know of that!”

You open your mouth to release a hum of agreement. “Yes,” you say, “though I am not sure what his condition has to do with his schedule? Wouldn’t it be more advisable for him to go rest, instead of having me bother him?”

“You are incredibly dull, my friend.” 

You nod slowly, noting in your head that she is sassier than she lets on, easily overpowered by her stage presence and bright smile. Regardless, you are still not sure if you ae thinking on the same lines as she is.

Miss Furina gives you a few more seconds to think on your own, but seeing the lack of any recognition or realization on your face, she sighs before flinging three sugar cubes into her tea with exasperated movements. She then grumbles, “Neuvillette does not rest until the Melusines kowtow and beg. Could you not at least help save them some face and demand of him to rest a day or two?”

You watch as the sugar begins to dissolve into the tea. When instructed as such, there really is no harm in doing so. You nod again, and Furina yelps with delight, clapping her hands in a circle.

“I try my best to not get involved in his affairs anymore, but perhaps this is just my way of slowly repaying his efforts. Anyway, I need to carry on with the rest of my day. Good luck, friend, and cheers to your union!”

You realize you did not ask the more glaring questions of this conversation. You are not sure how Miss Furina knows of your relationship with the Chief Justice in the first place, or why you are the one settling the bill for lunch. You shrug as you wipe at your mouth with a tissue, thinking of ways to convince your partner on stepping away from his impending cases for at least a few hours.

The solution comes quite easily, frankly speaking. In part of your intense and serious attitude, you are also associated as being very independent, so when you send a note to Neuvillette requesting his assistance later in the evening, he replies immediately in complete compliance. That way, you did not have to risk interrupting him in the midst of his work, while still satisfying Miss Furina’s plea.

In reality, though, you only got lucky because you had happened to remember today’s date. You do not quite recall how you thought of it – it could have been a street sign or a poster that you spotted from your periphery –, but the whole point is that this day used to be very important to you as you grew up. Though you are not upset or even the slightest bit nostalgic, you think it is the perfect excuse to save your partner from undue stress and cacophony.

Thus, you make your way to several shops before returning home with two small boxes and a bag in your hands. There are a few more hours before Neuvillette is to arrive, so you shuffle all of the scattered loose leaf paper into haphazard stacks and stuff your ballpoint pens into your drawers to make room on your desk to wrap the presents you bought.

–

When your partner comes, it is already dark, overcast with dense clouds that pour incessantly. He knocks at your door just as you are stoking the flames in your fireplace, and you pace over to let him in.

You open the door to a very concerned Chief Justice.

“Are you alright?” are his first words.

You cannot help but feel guilty at deceiving your partner.

You place a hand on his arm, which he returns with the same gesture, and you rub soothing circles into the fabric of his coat. “Yes, I managed to figure it out.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to revise your draft? I am more than willing to, might you think my input may be necessary.”

With gentle tugs, you lead him to your rounded dining table for two, where there are already steaming mugs of tea settling on their matching saucers, and the two of you take your usual seats across from each other.

You feel no need to keep up your lie. “My sincere apologies, Neuvillette, but there’s actually no manuscript you need to help with. The Melusines had specifically asked of me to find a way to extract you from your work, lest you become glued to your chair.” You leave out any mentions of Miss Furina out of respect for her privacy.

“Ah, I see.”

You observe his face, careful for even the faintest of shifts or twitches to anticipate his reactions. But Neuvillette’s impartiality should never be underestimated, and his expression does not change at all.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

He glances at you, having previously been staring into his cup. “Uh, no, I… I suppose I have been dealing with a torrent of work. I apologize for having concerned all of you.”

You set your hands out, and Neuvillette holds them in his palms. You admire the feel of his gloves against your bare skin and watch as he thumbs over your calloused fingers.

You finally manage to hum, “No worries. Though, I have a few things I want to give you, so your visit’s not entirely a waste.”

His grip tightens. “It is never a waste. Forgive me, for neglecting us.”

You chuckle before slipping your hands out of his hold, and patter over to the wrapped presents that sit on the floor to the side of the fireplace.

“Here,” you say, as you set the gifts in front of him.

“What occasion are these for?” he asks, eyes glimmering with fascination. You have always loved Neuvillette’s eyes. While his face may be as set as stone, at times, you can tell fragments of his thoughts by the color and brightness in his eyes.

You have not told him much about your upbringing, and you do not feel inclined to dwell on it tonight either. So, in the briefest way possible, you explain, “When I was growing up, every year on this day, the community I was a part of would exchange gifts. There was also a large feast, with plenty to eat and drink.” You give a light shrug before finishing, “I just thought it would be nice to share a bit of my past with you.”

“I understand,” he replies, eyes and tone soft and gentle. “I’m afraid your presents will have to wait for next year.”

You know time means nothing to him, but his words still melt the rough, unromantic edges within you. You smile to yourself as you watch him unwrap the pen and bejeweled brooch you had bought him. Finally, when he moves onto the bag, you laugh as you see him tear away his gaze before shakily handing you the box from inside.

“This, um, seems to be yours.”

You release an intrigued noise before nudging the box back toward him. “It is still a present for you.”

“How so?” Neuvillette’s cheeks and ears are tinged with a warm red, and you are sure it is not solely because of the fire.

You get up from your chair, round over to his side, and stand beside him. “I forgot to mention,” you tease, “but this day’s particularly special for couples. They celebrate together, spend time together, and… need I say more?”

You and Neuvillette have slept together before, though the number does not exceed single digits despite the two of you having been together for a little less than a year. Such occurrences are usually a result of your or his feverish desires exceeding a certain boiling point, and you suppose this time, you are the insatiable one.

“Look inside,” you instruct with a flick of your chin. “Do you like it?”

Folded neatly inside the box is a red satin tank top and sleep shorts. The color shines brilliantly under the flickering of the flames, and you appreciate the contrast of it against the purple and indigo of Neuvillette’s eyes.

“Yes, o-of course. I’m sure it suits you well,” he mumbles, blush flushing deeper and deeper with every passing second.

You pat his shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll change in the bathroom, so wait for me on the bed.”

If it was really up to you, you would not even change in a separate room. But, for the sake of your easily flustered partner, you show him some mercy and grant him no more than two minutes of reprieve. As Neuvillette said, the set does fit you, in ways other than just size, and you are glad you decided to go the extra length to splurge on lingerie, as it is also a treat for yourself.

When you enter your bedroom, barely concealing the skip in your step, you see Neuvillette seated on the corner of your bed, unmoving. You doubt he has barely even breathed since you left him alone.

“Neuvillette?”

His head shoots up at your call of his name, but he fails to respond. His eyes, which were staring holes into the ground a mere second ago, are now drinking in the sight of you in your new clothes. They linger at the exposure of your neck and collarbones, the outline of your breasts, the flare of the top around your waist, and the contrast of the shorts’ red sheen against the suppleness of your thighs. You find yourself almost feeling shy at his undivided attention, and you rock on your feet, waiting for him to make a move.

Neuvillette only breaks out of his reverie once he has looked over your entirety. “You look mesmerizing,” he praises. He makes it sound like a truth, a new law he has amended into Fontaine’s books, something everyone should know and accept by now. It is your turn to shudder and lose your composure at his words, so you do not even try to respond, and instead, walk over to stand in front of him.

However, he quickly switches your positions, gliding you over to sit and him kneeling between your knees. He presses fleeting kisses on the inners of your knees, before slowly traversing up the length of your right thigh, nuzzling and pressing and licking. You squirm as he sucks on your skin, and gasp at every mark he leaves.

It is unbelievable, you think. Back in Sumeru, you were constantly teased, others mocking and prophesying that you will forever spend this special day alone. Yet, you are grown now, and being lavished and indulged by another, by your lover.

You try your best not to muss Neuvillette’s hair, so you clutch onto his shoulders. Digging your fingernails into the white silk of his shirt, you barely contain your whimpers as your partner begins to approach the heat emanating between your legs. You jump once you feel him press the pad of a finger against your hole, and cannot help but moan as he kisses your clit, the satin of the shorts doing nothing to dull the sensations.

Though Neuvillette’s actions are restrained, limited to only kitten licks and playful flicks with his fingertip, your pleasure compounds at an exceptional rate. By the time he lifts you up to slide your shorts off, you have already stained much of the fabric and are continuing to leak, wetness dripping down your inner thighs and the bottom of your ass.

“Absolutely decadent,” he mumbles, gazing with much adoration and intensity at the way your legs shake and your clit trembles.

Before you can say anything, he takes your breath away as his lips close around your sensitive bud. He taps and laves his tongue against the hood, pressure just enough to choke you from pleasurable stimulation. His hands are wrapped tightly around your thighs, to hold them in place, as well as bite his nails into your skin, although you have no idea when he took his gloves off.

“Neuvillette,” you breathe out. He hums around your clit with a more forceful suck, and you reel over, hunching over his head, hands sliding down his back and crumping his shirt within your grasp. Your partner understands your reaction as a subconscious plea to move on, and so, he licks his way down to your hole. He can feel it open and close around nothing, and it is only then that he is made aware of how painfully hard he is.

You grit out, “More – please.”

He knows he cannot further deny you. He laps at your entrance, entranced by your taste, before finally pushing his tongue in.

You are warm, sweet, incredibly tight. He pulls back, draws a large breath, and dives back in, pushing himself as far in as he can. Since the very beginning, you have been very sensitive, always reacting to even the lightest and briefest of touches, so Neuvillette knows your body must be overwhelmed by everything he is doing to you. He knows this is the case when he leans back on his heels for a quick rest, and sees your face, sweat tracing your hairline and eyes glazed over. For some reason, Neuvillette finds himself growing even larger, even harder, at the sight, and he distracts himself by returning to his place between your legs.

This time, he goes faster, accompanying his tonguing with circles of his finger around your clit. He can also hear you muffling your noises with the back of your hand.

“Please, let me hear you,” he says, between movements of his mouth and hand. “I need to know that you are feeling good.”

You are so used to practicing restraint and discipline, so you hesitate at first. But when Neuvillette presses your clit in that exact way you like and tongues you so deeply, you moan out loud, giving in regardless of your own wishes. And because he is incredible, precise, with analyzing your needs, he keeps doing it, giving you what you crave and desire over and over and over again, until you are brought over the edge.

Neuvillette groans as your hole flutters around his tongue, more of your taste filling his mouth, and he drinks in whatever he can. At this point, you are holding his head against your body, almost bucking your hips to close whatever distance is left, so that you can extend your high.

By the time the two of you peel apart from each other, you are about to unzip his pants before you notice a stain. You look at Neuvillette’s face, only to find him with a flushed, euphoric expression, and you feel surprise and delight wash over you.

“We will continue tomorrow morning, if that is alright with you,” he says, a little out of breath. You, too, are still heaving, so you nod in agreement.

Back at home, this day was spent with several people under a clear night. You would all be gossiping, dancing, discussing, and by the end of it, you would exchange gifts, though for most of it, you were left to your own devices, reading storybooks in whatever dimly lit corner you could find. This time around, though it is raining outside and there is no one else besides you and Neuvillette, you think this is the best celebration you could ever have. You would not wish for anything else, as long as you have him.

winter event masterlist

[aryas-faces]

Debunking Popular Team Black Arguments

“Alicent abused Rhaenyra!”

Except nothing in the book supports this. In fact, Alicent adored Rhaenyra at first. She called her daughter, asks, “Criston protects the princess, but who protects the princess from Criston?” And then the only reason, per the book, there started to be conflict between them is because Alicent wanted Aegon to be Heir, and for herself to be the first Lady of the Seven Kingdoms. And even than, it doesn’t say Alicent treated Rhaenyra poorly, just that there was tension between them

And in fact, there is more textual evidence that Viserys abused Aegon than there is for Alicent abusing Rhaenyra. Let’s look at the only canonical time Viserys addresses Aegon directly:

“The boy is Alicent’s own blood. She wants him on the throne.”

This is in response to Alicent’s proposal to bind Aegon and Rhaenyra together in marriage and let them rule together. So he not only dehumanizes Aegon by calling him Alicent’s blood (not even son), but also distances himself from acknowledging Aegon as his own child as well

And than there is the only time they directly interact:

Right after Aemond loses his eye, he says that Aegon was the one who told him Rhaenyra’s kids were bastards. Aegon said everyone knows. And so in response to this, “No eyes would be put out (Viserys) decreed…. But should anyone-‘Man or woman or child, noble or common or royal’- mocks his grandsons as ‘Strongs’ again, their tongues would be pulled out with hot pincers.” Viserys is indirectly threatening Aegon here. This is in response to learning that Aegon “lied” to Aemond about Rhaenyra’s sons, of course it’s a threat

And of course, Aegon’s description says he has sullen eyes and pouty lips, aka, he is consistently sad. Why? Probably because his father hates him

“Alicent tormented Rhaenyra and her kids!”

Calling obvious bastards bastards isn’t torment, and it’s actually treason on Rhaenyra’s part to pass them off as Heirs to Driftmark

“Aegon sexually assaults the maids!”

This is actually a hard one because you can’t actually disprove this one. There is the line about pinching and fondling the maids. However, neither word, pinching or fondling, is inherently sexual, so you can also easily read it as him being a Flirt with the maids. Especially because when he is caught with having sex, the book specifically says she is well cared for. He is being caring to a common girl he is sleeping with as a royal in medieval times. That truly speaks to his character

“Aegon is a pedophile, Eustace doesn’t deny her age!”

Eustace’s account isn’t written in response to Mushroom. It is written independently. And the book calls this rumor Mushroom being Mushroom, and then also in response says the girl is well cared for. And The Princess and the Queen, which has no sources, matches Eustace’s version, as well not saying anywhere in the text that girl was 12

“The only reason the Greens usurped her is because she’s a woman!”

Uh no. As they say in the Green Council, the throne by all rights and laws is Aegon’s. Yes, the laws are sexist, but instead of changing them, Viserys sees Rhaenyra as the exception not the rule. The king isn’t above the law. If he wanted Rhaenyra to be heir, he should’ve changed the law. And Otto, Alicent, and Criston ALL cite her cruelty and the fact she would kill Aegon to secure her claim as to why they do this

“Rhaenyra only became cruel when her children started dying!”

Not true. Before any of her kids die, she demands Aemond be tortured for saying the truth about her children, feeds Vaemond to Syrax for the same, marries Daemon shortly after their spouses die, commits treason by passing bastards as Heirs to Driftmark. Rhaenyra is cruel long before any of her children die

“Rhaenyra wouldn’t kill Aegon, it’s a manipulation!”

Why? Just because she offers to spare him? She also says the only reason is because she doesn’t want to be a kinslayer as that would make HER look bad. It’s not out of love or mercy, it’s out of fear of kinslaying. And it doesn’t take much to convince her out of it. Aegon’s peace terms reach her, and her response is, “I will have my throne or I will have his head.” So no. Aegon was ALWAYS in danger of being killed by her

“Rhaenyra is meant to be the hero and Aegon the villain!”

Then why is Rhaenyra cut by the throne while Aegon isn’t? Then why is Rhaenyra motivated by power, while Aegon is by love for his family? Why does Rhaenyra’s cruelty turn her council against her, while Aegon’s is loyal until the end? Why does, while Rhaenyra loses King’s Landing because of her cruelty, Aegon win Dragonstone by turning the Blacks there as well as the smallfolk to his side through charisma ALONE. Why is Rhaenyra’s death written as the villain finally dying, while Aegon’s reign after is described as bittersweet because he defeated her but would never know peace or joy again. Why would Aegon’s death be avenged, and also implied to be suicide? And finally, why would Rhaenyra be forever known with Female Meagor, while Aegon forever known as the True King?

“The book is Green/Maester propaganda/biased against Rhaenyra!”

Be so for real right now. Why would George write a book full of lies? He makes it very clear who is lying and when. The unreliable narrators aren’t a license to pick and choose what you believe. And you genuinely believe most of what’s in this book is a lie, than you have 0 media literacy

[krisluxxeeempress]

MARS SQUARE PLUTO SYNASTRY | ASTROLOGY SYNASTRY SERIES

this is an entertaining synastry combination to have with another person, at least to those on the outside looking in because believe me, others will notice this couple. The Pluto person in this relationship will have the most power however, the Mars person will die trying to have all the power. In extreme cases, death will be the outcome in some manner if the Mars person does not chill the hell out. Of course, Mars chilling out before it’s too late or they get their feelings hurt depends heavily on the sign Mars is placed in however, I’m not too hopeful. I usually have a lot to say about with synastry interpretations however, considering Mars and Pluto are co-ruled by Mars- which is fast moving, hot headed, ambitious, impatient, and determined the square this synastry presents happens QUICKLY. It’s quite simple. Think of buying tickets to a boxing or MMA fight and someone gets knocked out within minutes- that’s the vibe with this couple. The Mars person will get beat up the most in this dynamic but refuse to accept such a defeat because “who does the Pluto person think they are”. When we think of fighting, it’s a dangerous game because you never know if you’ll hit someone in the wrong place which can conclude in death, or an ending. With such said, the Mars person is extremely vulnerable, sensitive, and weak coming up against the Pluto person all of which emboldens the Mars person to prove otherwise, and I don’t see it ending well. Life is a square, in other words, life is challenging and then to come home to a person who challenges you furthermore. C’mon, it’s too much to bear though the Mars person refuses to accept this because there’s a point to prove here.

There’s always a point to prove therefore, pride is a major problem for the Mars person. If you’re listening or reading this, I’m sure your thinking “why am I only focusing on the Mars person?” trust, I am not but that’s the energy with dynamic. Mars will always make things about them being hurt, wounded, done wrong and ultimately the victim but simultaneously, fighting back. The quote, “don’t start nun, won’t be nun” comes to mind. The Mars person is always mad because the Pluto person is triggering them, then Mars start some shit and finds out quickly they can’t finish what they started. The Pluto person is not innocent in this dynamic however, I can say with confidence the Pluto person isn’t purposefully trying to enrage the Mars person. The Pluto person can just breathe and somehow the Mars person feels challenged, triggered or just mad. These two are attracted to each other because they both behold the same Martian energy, passion, drive and whatever else. However, this relationship is meant to challenge Mars to grow mentally, physically, emotionally and dare I say spiritually. Think of a boxer who wants to win all this fights but refuses to train, work out, get enough sleep, or maintain a healthy diet. Imagine failing to do all that is required to win, getting in the ring, and losing terribly and then blaming the ref, the coach and just everyone else for their loss except themselves.

This is how the Mars person acts in this relationship.

Pluto rules Scorpio, therefore, this implies that the Pluto person will not change, and, in this relationship, they’re not meant to, at least not in the same way the Mars person should. The Pluto person is the trainer, the coach, the example that the Mars person should follow, trust, and allow to take the lead in this synastry. However, the Mars person will have a problem with this by default. With all challenges, their meant to be overcome and only then will you see greatness! So do not think there’s no hope here though, I am not hopeful nor are others outside this synastry aspect – it’s possible. Back to my training example, the Pluto person is the trainer, manager, the guide, the advisor and if enough time elapses where there is no progress or change seen in the Mars person, you will find that the Pluto person gives up. The Pluto person giving up is the death of this dynamic.

So, as forementioned, if the Mars pushes or takes things too far to prove a point, the Pluto person will end things. Regardless, there’s an ending whether that’s due to violence or just an abrupt ending with no point of return. This point of no return is equivalent to ending one’s fighting career, going back to my fighter example. We have all witnessed or heard about an MMA or boxing match turning out so terribly that it ended one’s career due to physical damages that cannot be healed or fixed- hence, beyond repair.

The Mars person is always suspicious of the Pluto person so much so, the Mars person will create assumptions and then act on those assumptions. Think of “leaving before I’m left.” “Cheat before I get cheated on.” “Lie before getting lied to.” You get the point.

Some may think, why doesn't the Mars person just keep that same direct and bold energy to communicate to the Pluto person? Keep in mind, astrologically, Mars and Mercury- planet ruling communications and logical thought, do not get along. Mars is about that action, acting first and MIGHT think about later. The Pluto person in this synastry will force the Mars person to THINK but this occurs usually after the damage has been done.

The Pluto person will have a hard time making the decision to finally end things but that's the only " change" you will see or expect with the Pluto person. This synastry aspect is Moreso about the Mars person CHANGING and GROWING. The Mars person fights so hard to get all the attention and subconsciously " be the victim" but there will come a point when the Mars person is seen exactly as they are. . . THE PROBLEM. THE SQUARE.

[lezzballer]

Diana Taurasi party headcanons

(UConn era)

∞ Partying is not Diana's default setting. She will not go out and party unless you invite her out. But once you invite her out, you're unleashing an unlimited amount of chaos into the world

∞ Diana is elite at partying. She puts the same energy, enthusiasm, and focus into partying as she puts into basketball. If she's going to take time away from basketball to party, then she wants to be efficient with it. She wants to get the most partying out of every single second

∞ If you go to a party with Diana, she won't leave your side. She'll bring you along with her on all her adventures and introduce you to everyone she knows and doesn't know

∞ Diana makes it her mission to find every loner at the party and make them smile. She'll find the most awkward person at the entire party and make them her new friend for the night

∞ Diana is the drunk girl in the bathroom who becomes best friends with every random woman there

∞ Even while hammered, she's still better than 99% of people at most games and sports. If anyone puts money down on beer pong or pool, that money is hers. But cards are different. She loves playing cards and she's terrible at it. And she'll lose all the money she won playing beer pong and pool after a few card games. So she ends the night with zero net profit

∞ Diana is always up for a round of drunk wrestling

∞ Diana is tone deaf and can't remember any lyrics to any songs but she will still attempt karaoke anyway

∞ Diana's default dance move is twerking. She finds a way to rub her ass on someone at all times. If there's a dance circle, she's probably crip walking in the middle of it. It's also impossible to stop Diana from stripping off her shirt and dancing on the counter at house parties

∞ Diana is competitive about drinking and competitive about smoking. She gets so drunk and high that you need to make sure she doesn't fall down a flight of stairs

∞ In her mind, since you invited her to the party, you're responsible for taking care of her. She will poison herself and then place her life in your hands. You get the sense that she does this on purpose as some kind of toxic trust ritual. If anyone else in your life did this, it wouldn't be worth it and you wouldn't put up with it. But with Diana, it's impossible to say no to her sweet nature and funny banter. And that's why you end up holding her hair back while she pukes

∞ The upside to this toxic trust ritual is that you can talk to Diana about absolutely anything. Usually, the fall-down drunk chick is not the person you should go to for advice. But Diana is the exception to that rule. She's a great listener and she really cares about what you're going through

∞ Diana has a poor sense of direction and gets lost easily while sober. And while drunk, it's about 100 times worse. But she has a positive attitude about being lost and everything usually ends up okay. She relies on friends like you to make sure she doesn't end up dead in a ditch somewhere

∞ Diana can party till 2am and still get up early the next day for training and practice. It works out fine because she just sleeps through class

∞ Diana definitely has a binge drinking problem. But since she's extremely successful in life, no one is that worried about it. And she doesn't think she has a problem because she parties less than her sister. And she only goes to parties when people invite her. So how bad could her problem even be? Well, it's bad

[morgana-ren]

Why do you think Bailey has such regret/panic after he fucks the PC?

I think that ultimately, there's a few reasons why that is.

For starters, Bailey has cultivated a 'no bullshit, no excuses' atmosphere in his orphanage. You have a set date he expects payment, and if you don't have it, you pay another way-- he extracts value from you, one way or another. However, that doesn't mean what one might think it would mean in a devious concept (at least not regarding Bailey himself.)

We know Bailey has some sort of miserable past likely mirroring your own. The only thing that seems to shake him is that attic. It alludes to the fact that he may have grown up in the orphanage, or maybe before he bought it, it was something different and darker entirely.

The way he seems to have gotten over it is by separating himself entirely from any form of sentimental or gentle emotion. Like poof, gone. Not a fucking ounce of humanity left in that man. Not one. He found a goal, and he sticks to it steadfast. That goal is to-- more or less, anyways-- to never be vulnerable again. The town he lives in is sick, and it's wrong. Something is going on in this place that makes people exceptionally more licentious; more rotten. Dark desires that most people would never even conceive of entertaining are rather commonplace here. In more ways than one, they have everyone-- victims and perpetrators-- by the balls.

One way to crawl your way to the top would be to remove yourself from that situation-- and then take advantage of it. If you're not looking at anyone as a potential victim of your lust, but rather purely as a paycheck, it removes a lot of the complications. The town still has a facade of law and order, as we can see if you frame Leighton, or just allow Briar to get raided, the cops at least pretend to do their jobs when confronted with cold, hard evidence.

Bailey has avoided this outcome because, plain and simply, he doesn't indulge. Doesn't even consider it. He doesn't take advantage of his charges in the way one might expect. In the way that Leighton does, or the way that most of the people in this perfidious town do-- with pure, unadulterated lust and base desire.

Bailey is all about the paycheck, which has the double advantage of making him rich, and riding him under the radar. Both of these things, when coupled with his raw power, leave him relatively untouchable.

Let's examine what sleeping with the PC means knowing all of this.

Well, having sex is in and of itself a vulnerability. Especially in the way it's instigated with him. It's actually sort of brilliant: it literally breaks every single rule he has. Even the unspoken ones.

He shows humanity in being seduced. It reveals a weakness, both to him and to someone who could potentially take advantage of it. It shows that he very much does suffer from base human desire to the point where it's actually boiling over from his repression.

And how you seduce him has him breaking his very strict rules on payment.

No mercy, and no leniency. That's what one can usually expect from Bailey. No amount of batting your eyes and pouting your lips at him will get you what you want. It might work for everyone else in this shithole, but not him.

....Except it does.

In fact, it works so unbelievably well, that he pounces. Literally.

He loses all sense in that moment. Just goes right out the goddamned window. You ask him for a little extension on the payment, which should be an automatic 'no' without even thinking-- except he makes the mistake of looking at you when normally, he probably wouldn't. He would just keep his nose in his paperwork and point wordlessly to the door.

(This shows a pique of attention when it comes to the PC themselves. He seems to indulge them a little more than he would anyone else, which you see on several occasions.)

The PC doesn't even technically outright ask for anything. Just puts on a little show in the most minor sense, and Bailey straight up loses his mind. Shoves you to the floor and crawls on top of you right there, tearing at your clothes and trying to get his cock in you as quickly as physically possible.

Desperation. That's the word for it.

He breaks his most iron rule and pretty much every other one in one swift motion (or several, lmao) and he loses from it-- at least how he tries to view things.

He has to honor his word. You help up your unspoken part of the bargain, and while he is a complete bastard, he's not a scumbag. You get your damn extension.

And then there's the matter of the power you have over him, and know you have over him now. Lusting for someone is, in the most base sense, them having a form of power over you. You want something from them, and whether you'd like it to or not, that impairs your judgment regarding them. He wants to be seen as this iron-willed monster. Unbreakable and unmovable. Not even human.

But his grunting and panting and hissing over you shows that he is all too human for his own liking. Because not only did he give in to his lust, but he enjoyed it. Enjoys it so much that even if you ask him to stop, and take it all back, he won't. He'll keep fucking you even if you beg him to stop and try to beat him away, which shows that he is just like everyone else in this fucking town.

Even he has a weakness.

Bailey doesn't casually have sex just to have it. You'll never see him at the brothel, and he never touches any of his charges, or anyone else for that matter. That puts a weight of importance on sex to him, whether he means it to or not. That means there's something so special about you that he indulges.

That's where the regret stems from. It breaks his own mental image of himself. It breaks every one of his rules. Everything he bases himself on and spent years building crumbles beneath your touch. It shows him that he's weaker than he thought he was, and all because of, what is to him, the whining and mewling of an orphan girl he's supposed to be 'taking care of.'

I imagine that's why he turns colder afterwards. He cannot risk that happening again. Can't risk you worming your way into his heart the way you manage to do with everyone else. You'd ruin everything because you let him ruin you.

He owns you, and you're his property. If he thinks too long on that, he might start getting ideas.

And he can't have that.

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 18 The Corinthian

If you asked the Corinthian if he liked his job, he would have a hard time answering.

Most of the time, he took great pleasure in being a nightmare. Most of the dreamers he visited were not good people. He was there to reflect their darkness, their monstrosities, their worst sides. Even if he was normally supposed to make them think and push them to be better, the Corinthian was mostly satisfied with seeing their terror.

But sometimes, he landed in the dreams of simpler, almost innocent people. Even if no one was completely innocent.

Again, he could find it amusing to scare these idiots who did not dare to live their lives fully, who respected the rules, taking no risks.

And then, there was Y/N. His exception.

If Morpheus had noticed that he had not done his duty well on several occasions on the nights he had to visit this particular human, he never said anything.

The first time, the Corinthian had wondered if there was a mistake. Why would such a pure girl need to dream of him ? Aside from making her cry and avoid sleep for several days, his intervention would bring nothing positive.

He couldn't explain why he didn't want that with her.

"Hello? " she had greeted him the first time she had seen him.

"Hello. Lost ?"

"I don't know. Where are we ? Do I know you ?"

"Not yet." he had purred, smiling.

"I feel like I know you. You seem nice."

Normally, the Corinthian would have found the remark stupid. Because he didn't seem nice, not at all, even when he took on an innocent face to approach his prey, who were simply too foolish to notice the dark aura that surrounded him.

But this time, with Y/N, he had frozen, losing his smile, thinking that he wouldn't mind being nice for once, being liked by someone, knowing her and becoming friends.

They had spent the night talking, until she woke up. It had been hard not to see her again for several months, even if time passed differently in the Dreaming.

The Corinthian couldn't even be sure that he would see her again one day. He could have visited her in secret, or escaped to go see her in the Waking world, without worrying about the trouble he might have.

It was a real joy for him to find her again. He thought he knew this feeling, every time he made a dreamer tremble with terror, but apparently he was wrong.

"Cori ! I'm so happy to see you !"

"Not as much as me, my angel."

Every moment spent with her was wonderful, he cherished them all, without realizing how important it was.

Because there came a time when it had been far too long since he had seen her for his liking. It could have been a good thing, that Y/N didn't have nightmares so often.

But when he visited Lucienne, pretending to look at the dreamers' books without any interest, he grimaced when he saw that Y/N's had an ending.

"An ending ? What does it mean, when a book has an ending ?"

"… You should go back to your post, Corinthian." the librarian sighed sadly.

"Answer me !"

"You know it very well, my nightmare. Don't yell at Lucienne because of the nature of things, she has nothing to do with it."

"… No."

While he couldn't blame Lucienne, or even Dream, Corinthian cursed his father Time, and his older sister, leaving the castle screaming. His master didn't stop him.

His eyes not allowing him to cry, the Corinthian simply sat near the place where he had been created. He then thought that if he was unmade, maybe Death would be kind enough to take his hand and take him to see Y/N.

Taking revenge on the other mortals, he waited for the moment when Morpheus would come. He didn't really want to be a nightmare anymore. He only wanted to be Cori.

[quill-firefly]

Actually, I Want My Deadbeat Dad Back (Luke Castellan-Centric Fanfic)

Taking a little break from the usual fanfics I write because this entered my brain and it must be removed otherwise I will not get a good night's sleep. This is taking elements from both PJO and Epic the Musical. I've seen a lot of Percy getting time travelled back during the Epic!Odyssey (especially since it's like a shock for him to see what Poseidon was like back then). So now I'm punting Luke to the past.

Except Hermes, while obviously still retaining his personality traits in Epic, is not bound by the ancient rules of gods not interfering so he is keeping this strange little son of his with him.

Also this is a bit of a darkfic with Wingfic AU elements because I said so. Aka, Luke and Odysseus have little wing-ears because of their relation to Hermes.

When he stabbed himself with the knife, he expected to wake in front of Charon and be banished to the fields of Asphodel. Hades, he wouldn’t be surprised if Zeus himself tossed him down into Tartarus.

What he did not expect was to wake up, half-drowned as a stranger stood over him. The man’s face was familiar, but it was mostly the wings where ears should have been that caught Luke’s attention. He coughed, forcing himself to sit up as his eyes tried to adjust to the sunlight that shone down. He looked up, his voice soft and disbelieving, “Father?”

“What?” The man moved back, a momentary heartbreak in his brown eyes. Then Luke felt the sharp end of a blade against his neck. Wouldn’t be the first he found himself at the end of a weapon today. His hands scrambled against… sand, and that was when Luke finally took in where he was.

This was not the Underworld.

He kept his face neutral, but his heart hammered quickly in his chest as he took in the beautiful island landscape. He had been in Olympus just a few moments ago… He turned back to the familiar stranger, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” The man shot back. Luke noted that the stranger wasn’t quite keen on sharing his name first. The sword hadn’t moved any further, but he didn’t dare try to disarm the man. Something about the man’s demeanor - and the lack of information Luke had about him - showed that he probably wouldn’t hesitate to skewer Luke like pork barbecue. Then the man was kneeling next to him. It made Luke uncomfortable to see those wings - quite similar to his own, which really only meant one thing. 

“Look, you can clearly see our shared relation. Put down the sword.”

It wasn’t just the wings that gave the stranger away, but rather the mischievous glint in his eyes. Luke had enough of seeing it in the mirror and in his siblings’ gazes. The man narrowed his eyes. Standing up, the man moved his cape to the side, giving Luke a clear view of a shipwrecked boat and a couple of men staring awkwardly at him. 

Now, it has been years since Luke had indulged himself in remembering the ancient Greek heroes, but his mind was quick to give him a horrifying answer as he took in where he really was.

“No no no no no.” He could almost hear the lingering traces of the mad Titan’s laughter in his mind as his situation finally sunk in. He stood up, nearly stumbling back into the sand as he tried to get away from the stranger. Sadly, he was too slow as his arm was immediately grabbed. He could hear the man bark out something, perhaps a question? 

He tried to slow his panic, turning his gaze back up to… By the gods he could hardly accept it.

“Is this your island?”

He shook his head, wishing he was dead. “It’s not.”

—

Despite how much the fates hated him, being brought back to the past was not the worst thing that has ever happened to Luke Castellan.

Where to start?

What about his whole life being damned before he was even born?

What about his mother losing herself while he could do nothing but watch?

What about his deadbeat of a father who never once took the time to care?

What about his siblings and the rest of the Half-Bloods, left to be forgotten by their parents, sent out to die in meaningless quests for gods who would never remember their names?

Ah… and isn’t that where he keeps going back to.

Luke won’t pretend that there wasn’t a piece of him that wasn’t being selfish when he joined the forces of Kronos.

The scar of his failed quest was still fresh, the taste of his own blood still lingering on his tongue when the dreams began.

Kronos had offered him a chance to fight back against the gods, had consoled him when even his own father wouldn’t.

He had been a child. A scared and hurt child.

How could Luke have said no?

Maybe that really wasn’t the start of it, but gods know that he was always destined to fall.

Deep down, Luke knew it began even before he was born. He was but a pawn in the game of the gods - even if he had in the end decided to let go of all that pain and hurt. 

Still, the neglect doesn’t go away easily - especially now that he was kept alive by that damned Titan who clearly didn’t want him to rest.

Even so, his mind kept going back to that quest. 

That ridiculous quest for a golden apple.

What did his father even need it for?

He would never know. He failed after all.

And the scars remained with him even now, thrown so many years back into the past.

Even now…

He could still feel the emptiness at his back, the loss of the weight that once was there.

When he was younger, he used to enjoy taking long flights throughout Camp Half-Blood. 

He remembered the hours he spent with his younger siblings, carrying them in his arms as he flew.

He recalled how a younger Annabeth and Thalia would tentatively reach out, always worried that he’d shriek at them in an instinctive attempt to keep them away from his wings, only for him to curl a protective wing around both of them.

Despite how much he resented his father, Luke loved that he had inherited wings.

He loved those wings, and some nights, he could bring himself to love his father for being able to claim him in that way.

His father may have cruelly abandoned him and his mother, but unlike most of the demigods, at least he had been claimed - long before he ever set foot in Camp Half-Blood.

Then the quest.

Ladon.

Those claws.

… He used to enjoy taking long flights.

—

The rest of the Ithacan crew kept their distance, though Luke could tell they were curious about him.

It wasn’t everyday that one saw another Hermes-descendant, and as far as he could tell, he hoped to keep up that appearance. They didn’t need to know he was actually a demigod. Maybe the lack of back wings was a blessing, they wouldn’t have any clue that he wasn’t just a descendant like Odysseus.

His heart fluttered as the thought crossed his mind. 

Never in his whole mortal life would he have expected nor wanted to meet any of the ancient Grecian heroes.

Just another joke from the Fates.

Fuck, what was his life?

He watched as the infamous King of Ithaca paced the island, a heavy sadness on the man’s shoulders. Luke must have just arrived after the great loss of the man’s crew to Poseidon.

Funny how they shared that similarity… being screwed over by a child of Poseidon. 

Though, Luke felt prideful enough to believe that he wouldn’t have yelled his name out like Odysseus did.

If the lost king wasn’t stressed about their predicament, Luke was sure he’d be under heavy interrogation - but after his admittance that they were on Circe’s island (because at this point Luke didn’t give a damn about accidentally ruining the past considering his own predicament), Odysseus was strangely silent. He was thinking of a plan. Luke knew how quick-witted the Grecian hero had been.

The man had sent a few of his men away, further into the island. Now, he was thinking of his next move.

Luke didn’t really care enough to warn him about what was going to happen.

As if right on cue, one of the men that Odysseus had sent stumbled out of the forest. Odysseus had reached out for him immediately, holding him by the arms as he demanded where the rest of the crew were.

Pigs. They were currently pigs.

Luke would have laughed, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He was already on thin ice for being a stranger that somehow washed-up on this island at the same time as them (Luke was not about to explain that he was from the future).

At least Odysseus hadn’t called him out on his lie. He didn’t even call Luke out when he lied about his name.

He should probably thank his father that Odysseus probably took pity on him since they were of kin, but right now Luke didn’t want to invoke Hermes’ name - not when he didn’t know what his father was like in the past.

Instead, he leaned back against a tree as he watched Odysseus have a quick argument with the man. Then they were both rushing into the forest, the other man trying to stop the king from entering any further.

As he watched them disappear into the trees, his eyes following after them, Luke couldn’t help but feel as though something in the foliage was staring back.

His back burned.

—

“Hello, little bird. That was a silly stunt that you pulled.”

This was Tartarus. Kronos sent him to Tartarus.

Luke clawed at the god’s arms, his wing-ears flapping frantically as he tried to escape his father’s tight embrace. 

Why couldn’t he have had this when he was a child?

Even if he had sacrificed his life, Luke had no love for his father. At least, none that he wanted to give anymore.

As the god kept him from escaping, his eyes met Odysseus’. 

He knew the story. 

He knew what Odysseus had done to get home.

Still, Luke felt betrayed.

“Thank you, darling. Here’s the moly.” With his face pressed against Hermes’ chest, Luke could feel the crackle of divine energy - and it scared him. Even the arms that caged him held all the power that the gods wielded.

This was not the father he knew.

His father pretended to be a mailman.

He rarely showed his divine self.

He watched as Odysseus reached out for the plant, refusing to meet Luke’s gaze.

This wasn’t how the story goes. Hermes assisted Odysseus for… Hades, Luke didn’t know. Hermes helped because why not?

So why was he suddenly a bargaining chip?!

“Let go of me!” Even as the arms continued to tighten, Luke did his best to flail out of the god’s embrace, his wing-ears flapping fitfully. “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh you know how demigods are, darling! Stubborn and reckless. Little Loukanos here has hit quite the rebellious phase. Scared me when I returned to my palace to find him missing. Little bird tossed himself right out into the sea. Can you imagine it?” The god laughed, and Luke wished he had continued his war with the gods.

The audacity!

Hermes was lying, and they all knew it.

Odysseus knew it.

“Hermes… thank you.” The king said softly, a hint of guilt and hesitation in his voice. Luke felt somewhat vindicated at least that Odysseus felt some semblance of regret. Not that he would save him, but it was the thought that counted.

“Don’t thank me, friend. You very well may die.” There was an amused smile in the god’s tone, and Luke shivered. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such blatant carelessness in his father’s voice.

“Good luck!” 

He heard faltering footsteps, and soon there was nothing but silence.

It was just him and this version of his father now.

Those arms eased around him, but Luke wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he was free. Hands gripped the back of his shirt, as if the god was searching. He dared to look up, scared of those irisless eyes. The Hermes of the future had the same blue eyes as Luke’s.

He really didn’t know this version of his father.

“Now that dear Odysseus is gone, you and I should have some father-son time, hm?”

The god’s smile was strained.

“Let’s talk.”

The god leaned down, his mouth close to Luke’s wing-ear.

“Tell me, little bird, where are your wings?”

—

As a father, Odysseus would do anything to protect his son.

The thought doesn’t ease his guilt, even though a part of him knew that this was the right choice.

He knew his men were in danger, but he spared a single glance back to where he had left Loukanos with Hermes.

When he had first seen the young man, Odysseus had been surprised to find a fellow Hermes-kin. Then Loukanos had opened his eyes, and he’d called him father.

The “father” had taken him aback, but mostly it was the haunted look in the boy’s eyes that scared him.

Odysseus knew war.

He saw it in the eyes of his crew.

He saw it on his own.

His only hope is that he would never have to see that same look in his own son’s eyes.

Really, it was for the best that he left Loukanos with Hermes. He didn’t know where the boy had come from and Odysseus had enough men to worry about. He couldn’t take Loukanos with them once they left the island.

Besides, Hermes had said that the boy was his son who had escaped from Olympus.

Nevermind that Odysseus knew the god had lied.

Nevermind that as far as Odysseus was aware, his own grandfather - a son of Hermes - had never mentioned anything about Hermes keeping any of his children on Olympus.

Nevermind that Loukanos had looked terrified when Hermes had forcefully dragged him into his arms.

Odysseus had tried to think of another way, any other plan that didn’t require such a sacrifice.

But Hermes had flashed those irisless white eyes at him, a daring grin on the god’s face. 

Try it, King of Ithaca. I dare you.

He needed the moly. 

He needed to save his crew. 

He needed to get home.

He needed to see Penelope and his own son.

Odysseus could only hope that Hermes would have no ill-intent towards Loukanos. After all, Hermes was a father himself. Surely he only had the best intentions for his son.

He could just delude himself that Loukanos was some spoiled demigod. There were plenty of spoiled royals. He’d had the displeasure of meeting them himself. Loukanos was probably just one of those.

Even if the boy had refused the embrace, Odysseus had seen how much Hermes had been so happy to hold Loukanos in his arms. How he refused to let go.

Odysseus would trade the world to have his family in his arms.

What did Telemachus even look like? 

Had he gained the same wings that most Hermes-kin had?

Odysseus felt his wing-ears twitch, the heartbreak nearly consuming him as he thought of his son.

What he would give to be like Hermes right now.

He shook his head, grasping the moly tightly in his fist. It was a worthwhile deal. He couldn’t regret it.

He had a crew to save.

He had a kingdom to return to.

And he had his own family to think about.

Loukanos will be fine.

—

Luke was not fine.

“I don’t remember siring you.” There was a hand on his chin, tilting his face as the god observed the scar on his face, tracing it with clawed fingers. 

Luke would have given anything to have the future version of Hermes. His actual father knew how to pretend to be human. This Hermes had no such reasons to play pretend.

“But I look at you and I feel a great sense of loss.” The god’s voice turned into a soft croon. “I look at you and feel as though I have a mortal heart to break.”

“...Right.” Luke tried to take a step back, cursing the Fates as he remembered that he had been cornered into a tree. “Like you said, ‘as though you have a mortal heart,’ don’t worry about it too much. Just let me go and we can pretend—”

“I don’t even know your name, little bird.” Hermes’ other hand gripped his arm, keeping him from darting sideways. 

Luke wished Kronos had teleported the knife with him. Sure, Luke didn’t want to fuck around and find out if he tried to stab this Hermes, but it would have been better than being defenseless.

“It’s Loukanos—”

The grip on his chin tightened, and the god’s eyes glowed briefly.

“Don’t lie.”

He took a breath, trying to stop the erratic beating of his heart. “It’s Luke. Luke Castellan.”

Hermes frowned, relinquishing his grip. “Luke Castellan of…?”

He wracked his mind for an answer, but anything he said would have been seen as a lie. Weakly, he mumbled out, “...Of Connecticut?”

“Of what?” Now it was the god’s turn to be confused. Luke took the opportunity to quickly dart past his father’s arm, trying to put as much of a distance between him and the god.

He had barely made it a few steps before the god was on him. He covered his face as he landed on the ground with a huff. He could feel the end of Hermes’ caduceus at his lower back, keeping him from crawling away.

“Your words don’t register as a lie, little bird. But I can’t quite recall a place known as… Kanetikut? Ah, and I don’t think I remember which mortal woman you come from—”

“Of course you don’t. Typical of you not to remember mom.” Obviously past Hermes wouldn’t know Luke’s mom yet, but the comment enraged him.

“...You have a lot of anger towards me, little bird.” He felt the weight of the caduceus lift, and Luke scrambled back to his feet. At least this time, the god didn’t follow after him. Instead, he was staring at Luke with birdlike curiosity, as though he were a shiny trinket. “You dress strangely too. There’s something very odd going on here, little bird. Where are you from, really?”

“Like I’d ever tell you.” He scoffed before rolling his eyes. “The only place I should be in right now is the Underworld. So, do your job and drop me off.”

“You don’t look dead to me, Luke.” The god grinned, but the amusement quickly dropped. “Though I suppose you feel as though you’ve died. Your poor wings—”

“And whose fault is that?” He snarled, wishing more than anything that this really was his father. He had wanted so long to ask the god why he had sent him on that quest.

Why did he even want that stupid golden apple?

“Ha! Certainly not me, darling. I didn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago.” Hermes tutted, as if lecturing a small child. “Still, you blame me, don’t you?”

Before Luke could respond, the god was suddenly in front of him, arms pulling him into an embrace. “While it isn’t my fault, I won’t leave you to suffer alone.”

“Wha—” He screamed as the god suddenly flew upwards, carrying Luke in his arms.

The god only laughed, as if this was nothing but a game to him.

“No need to be scared, little bird. Your father has you.”

Luke nearly screamed again as the god jokingly loosened his grip. “Where are you taking me?!”

“Home, little bird.” The god smiled, “I don’t ever want to feel the loss of you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note:

So some notes.

*In the ancient times, it was more common for children of gods to display non-mortal traits. In the modern world, however, the non-mortal traits have become rare as a necessary consequence of keeping demigods from getting murked lmao. Luke just got lucky (or not) that he inherited Hermes' wings.

**As Odysseus is only a descendant and not really a direct child, he only inherited the wing-ears (though this isn't usually a guarantee and they could very well just have mortal traits - Odysseus is just lucky). For the direct children of Hermes, they always inherit both the wing-ears and the actual back wings. So yes, no flying back to Ithaca for Odysseus.

***Past Hermes could sense that Luke was a direct child and not just a descendant. While he's being very playful and stuff, he's actually freaking out that Luke is missing his wings. Also, since the gods were more hands-on in interacting with mortal lives back in ancient times, Hermes can easily just take and keep Luke. He's gonna keep this strange little son of his close by. Also also, technically it doesn't make sense but past Hermes could sort of feel that Luke was going to be a great loss to him (since in modern times, Luke was Hermes' favorite child). He feels a deep love for this son of his that he doesn't quite remember having.

[newskin4theoldceremony]

DARKNESS AT THE BREAK OF NOON SHADOWS EVEN THE SILVER SPOON THE HANDMADE BLADE THE CHILDS BALLON ECLIPSE BOTH THE SUN AND MOON TO UNDERSRAND YOU KNOW TOO SOON THERE IS NOW SENSE IN TRYING POINTED THREATS THEY BLUFF WITH SCORN SUICIDE REMARKS ARE TORN FROM THE FOOLS GOLD MOUTHPIECE THE HOLLOW HORN PLAYS WASTED WORDS PROVES TO WARN THAT HE NOT BUSY BEING BORN IS BUSY DYING TEMPTATIONS PAGE FLIES OUT THE DOOR YOU FOLLOW FIND YOURSELF AT WAR WATCH WATERFALLS OF PITY WAR YOU FEEL TO MOAN BUT UNLIKE BEFORE YOU’D DISCOVER THAT YOU’D JUST BE ONE MORE PERSON CRYING SO DON’T FEAR IF YOU HEAR A FORIEGN SOUND TO YOUR EAR ITS ALRIGHT MA I’M ONLY SIGHING AS SOME WARN VICTORY SOME DOWNFALL PRIVATE REASONS GREAT OR SMALL CAN BE SEEN IN THE EYES OF THOSE WHO CALL THAT MAKE ALL THAT SHOULD BE KILLED TO CRAWL WHILE OTHERS SAY DON’T HATE NOTHING AT ALL EXCEPT HATRED DISILLUSIONED WORDS LIKE BULLETS BARK AS HUMAN GODS AIM FOR THEIR MARK MAKE EVERYTHING FROM TOY GUNS THAT SPARK TO FLESH COLORED CHRISTS THAT GLOW IN THE DARK IT’S EASY TO SEE WITHOUT LOOKING TO FAR THAT NOT MUCH IS REALLY SACRED WHILE PREACHERS PREACH OF EVEIL FATES TEACHERS TEACH THAT KNOWLEDGE WAITS CAN LEAD TO HUNDRED DOLLAR PLATES GOODNESS HIDES BEHIND ITS GATES BUT EVEN THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES SOMETIMES MUST HAVE TO STAND NAKED AND ALTHOUGH THE RULES OF THE ROAD HAVE BEEN LODGED ITS ONLY PEOPLES GAMES YOU GOT TO DODGE AND ITS ALRIGHT MA I CAN MAKE IT ADVERTISING SIGNS THAT CON YOU INTO THINKING YOURE THE ONE THAT CAN DO WHATS NEVER BEEN DONE THAT CAN WIN WHATS NEVER BEEN WON MEANWHILE LIFE OUTSIDE GOES ON ALL AROUND YOU YOU LOSE YOURSELF YOU REAPPEAR YOU SUDDENLY FIND YOUVE GOT NOTHING TO FEAR ALONE YOU STAND WITH NOBODY NEAR WHEN A TREMBLING DISTANT VOICE UNCLEAR STARTLES YOUR SLEEPING EARS TO HEAR THAT SOMEBODY THINKS THEY REALLY FOUND YOU A QUESTION IN YOUR NERVES IS LIT YET YOU KNOW THERE IS NO ANSWER FIT TO SATISFY ENSURE YOU NOT TO QUIT TO KEEP IT IN YOUR MIND AND NOT FORGET THAT IT IS NOT HE OR SHE OR THEM OR IT THAT YOU BELING TO BUT THOUGH THE MASTERS MAKE THE RULES FOR THE WISE MEN AND THE FOOLS I GOT NOTHING MA TO LIVE UP TO FOR THEM THEY MUST OBEY AUTHORITY THAT THEY DO NOT RESPECT IN ANY DEGREE WHO DESPISE THEIR JOBS THEIR DESTINY SPEAK JEALOUSY OF THEM THAT ARE FREE DO WHAT THEY DO JUST TO BE NOTHING MORE THAN SOMETHING THEY INVEST IN WHILE SOME ON PRINCIPLES BAPTIZED TO STRICT PARTY PLATFORM TIES SOCAIL CLUBS IN DRAG DISGUISE OUTSIDERS THEY CAN FREELY CRITICIZE TELL NOTHING BUT WHK TO IDOLIZE AND SAY GOD BLESS HIM WHILE ONE WHO SINGS WITH HIS TONGUE ON FIRE GARGLES IN THE RAT RACE CHOIR BENT OUT OF SHAPE FROM SOCIETYS PLIERS CARES NOT TO COME UP ANY HIGHER BUT RATHER GET YOU DOWN IN THE HOLE THAT HES IN BUT I MEAN NO HARM NOR PUT FAULT ON ANYONE THAT LIVES IN A VAULT BUT ITS ALRIGHT MA IF I CAN PLEASE HIM OLD LADY JUDGES WATCH PEOPLE IN PAIRS LIMITED IN SEX THEY DARE TO PUSH FAKE MORAL INSULT AND STARE WHILE MONEY DOESNT TALK IT SWEARS OBSCENITY WHO REALLY CARES PROPAGANDA ALL IS PHONY WHILE THEM THAT DEFEND WHAT THEY CANNOT SEE WITH KILLERS PRIDE SECURITY IT BLOWS THE MIND MOST BITTERLY FOR THEM THAT THINK DEATH’S HONESTY WON’T FALL UPON ‘EM NATURALLY LIFE SOMETIMES MUST GET LONELY MY EYES COLLIDE HEAD ON WITH STUFFED GRAVEYARDS FALSE GOALS I SCUFF AT PETTINESS WHICH PLAYS SO ROUGH WALKED UPSIDE DOWN INSIDE HANDCUFFS KICK MY LEGS TO CRASH IT OFF SAY OKAY I’VE HADE ENOUGH WHAT ELSE CAN YOU SHOW ME AND IF MY THOUGHT DREAMS CAN BE SEEN THEYD PROBABLY PUT MY HEAD IN A GUILLOTINE

BUT ITS ALRIGHT MA IT’S LIFE AND LIFE ONLY

[winchesterfanatic1967]

The L Word

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,273 

Warnings- Season 5 spoilers

You awoke with a deep gasp, your heart pounding and eyes wide. Sitting up and looking around the room you realize that you’re ok. Sam was asleep on the motel bed next to you, while Dean slept peacefully beside you. His chest rose and fell steadily, and you were more than grateful that you didn’t wake either of the boys up. 

This hunt had been particularly difficult, and you knew the boys were exhausted and they needed their sleep. You were also exhausted, but the nightmares that usually occurred stopped you from being able to sleep. 

The truth is, you were defeated. You and the Winchester brothers were working non stop and it was beginning to be one hunt after the other without a break and casualty after casualty with more lives lost than saved. It was kind of Sam’s fault that the world was coming to an end, but he received so much backlash from everyone you figured he’s been punished enough. 

You couldn’t help but sigh softly and buried your face into your hands, then running your fingers through your scalp in frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes and you tried desperately to hold them back. All you wanted to do was sleep and get some well needed rest. 

“Y/n? S’matter?” 

You looked to your right to see Dean looking at you with squinty and sleepy eyes. Guilt coursed through you. “M’sorry De. Go back to sleep I’m alright.”

“What happened? Another nightmare?”

You look at him confused but he knew you better than you knew yourself. “We share a bed at every motel we stay in, and when we aren’t staying in a motel we’re living in the car. If you think I don’t know you by now or picked up on the fact that you’re not alright, you’re crazy.”

You quietly sigh, and look to your arms that were holding onto your legs. “You’re right. M’not alright. I haven’t been for some time.”

“I know.” He says teasingly with a smile playing onto his lips and yours did the same. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,-” You shook your head. “But..I really should.”

“I know I’m not the best person to talk to or get advice from. Hell, I bottle everything up and explode when I can’t take it anymore, but take it from me. Talking about your issues is way better than letting your mental health go down the drain…”

“I just…I feel like a failure. We’ve lost so many people in the last few years and with everything going on with the apocalypse… I feel like were losing more casualites than actually saving lives..”

The way he was looking at you was making your heart melt. His complete attention was on you, no distractions and every word you spoke you felt more and more comfortable expressing your feelings to him. You should’ve talked to him more, but you were stubborn just like him. 

The truth is, your heart belonged to Dean and it always will. You’ve had your fair share of hookups with him and you knew that’s all you would ever get. Let’s face it, hunters don’t get a happy ending and he made it perfectly clear that it was a friends with benefits relationship. 

Everytime he got close to someone it ended up in hurt and death. It’s the reason why he and Cassie never worked out, or why he had to walk away from Lisa. He knew he would never be able to get anything real and that’s why it was easy with you. No feelings or strings attached and you knew about the Supernatural so you understood the life. 

Everything went well except you broke the number one rule of your friends with benefits relationship. You grew real feelings. Of course you wouldn’t say anything to Dean, because having him as a friend was better than not having him as anything at all. 

“I just… I don’t know how to move forward. Trying so hard to save the world everyday and knowing it’s all on our shoulders is putting so much pressure on me. The clock is ticking and we’re running out of time. Jo and Ellen are dead because of us, Bobby can’t walk because of us…at his point I feel as if the world would be a better place without me” Your eyes welled up with tears and you were desperately trying to push them down. 

“Hey hey hey, c’mere…” He cooed gently and pulled you into him. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his torso while burying your face into the crock of his neck. 

He felt the tears sliding against his skin and his heart broke at the silent sobs that racked your body. He was so in love with you and it terrified him. He fell in love with you at the first hello. His past relationships never worked out but he couldn’t hide his adoration for you. He didn’t want to see you get hurt or to lose you so he figured innocent flirting and hooking up would do no harm. 

You meant way more to him than just a hookup. He was scared as fuck to tell you especially now. If he told you how he really felt knowing his luck you would die on him tomorrow. 

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how wrong you are..” He says softly. “The world would be a worse place without you in it. It would most likely already be destroyed if you weren’t here. No, this isn’t easy and it takes a toll on me too every single day. But I know for a damn fact without you, me, Sam and Bobby..it.. It wouldn’t be half the world it is. No, things aren’t the best with Bobby but unfortunately in our line of work it’s unpredictable and anything can happen at anytime. I really thought I would be dead by now and here I am at 30 alive and kicking. We’re doing our best and I can’t promise that any of us are going to make it through it, but I know for a fact we’re going to stop the apocalypse. If we go down, then we’re going to go down together and swinging…”

Your silent cries turned into tears, which eventually turned into occasional sniffles as he spoke softly. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel better. “Thank you…” You sniffle quietly and he wraps his arms around you tighter. 

“I wish our lives were different sweetheart, because I would love to be normal with you…white picket fence with a dog and some kids..”

You look up at him and the amount of vulnerability in his features made your heart flutter. “I want that more than anything too De…I have strong feelings for you and it scares the shit out of me…”

“I, I feel the same way. I want to use the L word so much…because you deserve nothing more than to hear it every day…but I can’t. M’ scared to shit that if I tell you you’ll be taken from me and I can’t…” He took a deep breath. 

“It’s okay De. I understand.” 

“C’mere.”

You snuggled deep into him as much as you could while burying your face into his neck once more. He placed a kiss to the top of your head while wrapping his arms around you snugly. 

“If somehow we do make it out of this…things will be different. I promise.” He spoke and now you had a reason to want to make it through this and live.

[happilylovingchaos]

Fic Recs Thursday (or Friday):

Okay, let me just say this: finding old/ underrated fanfics that focused on Mateo and Nancy as individual characters was hard. Harder than finding ones on disasters. But, here I go back down the AO3 rabbit hole @lonestar-s5countdown.

Canon Codas:

Keep running by ourfreewill: Mateo’s view on the events of 2x02– god this is sad. This makes so much sense as another headcanon to how Tim got so close to being part of the 126 family.

Such strange uncharted territory by @marjansmarwani: The 2x10 intervention that features soft Tarlos, and the 126 learning about Mateo’s living sitch.

I can’t carry this anymore… by @alidravana: There’s a small typo in the fic’s tag— it should be 2x14, but otherwise this was a nice look into Carlos’ THOUGHTS about hearing what happened with Mateo and his 129 captain. CW: discussed hazing/ homophobia.

A question of capability by rakketyrivertam: Owen’s conspiracy theorist side strikes an ethnicity-related nerve with Mateo after the mistaken alien call in 3x06.

Don’t lose sight of what I want by @alidravana: Mateo and Paul help TK through physiotherapy after the events of 1x08 and 1x09. It’s a painful day still, but one with a little hope sprinkled in.

Nights like these by Azphobic (orphan_account): After the traffic pileup turned shooting in 3x14, Mateo is one of the firefighters who nearly loses sleep over what happened.

Even dust was made to settle by tiniestmite: Takes place during 2x10, just before TK and the 126 stage their intervention for Owen. Mateo might be a bad secret-keeper, but he’s hell of a lifesaver.

Edamame and empathy by @blueink3: A 3x14 coda where Nancy seeks comfort from Tarlos and receives.

Some risks are worth it by RamblingDisaster73: This speculation fic should have panned out in 3x17. Heightism might be a thing, Julian and Brianna did solid jobs with what they were given, but their conflict just felt off to me.

Burnt CDs and moving forward by maplehobi: Another 3x14 coda covering the Nanteo “coffee date”, where Mateo and Nancy befriend each other after the shooting. Because I think this is a headcanon starting point— start as friends (bonus points if there’s a shared traumatic incident), see if there’s something more. -v-

Laughing gas by shes_an_oddbird: A light-hearted extension of the post-ANFO scene in 4x06, right after Owen and the firefighters avert the terror attack. Because if anything was done well in that arc imo, it was that scene.

Deep dive for Disasters (ooh, alliteration again! Includes an AU or two):

A storm to weather by @marjansmarwani: A 3x01 spec-turned-AU where TK is still on the wrong end of a rescue gone awry and still suffers hypothermia but it’s not as life-threatening. Slightly.

Not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other by MyCupOfTea and singerofsimplesongs: What if 9-1-1: Lone Star took place in the world of Pacific Rim? Tarlos-centric, with Paul and Mateo and Marjan making up the Crimson Typhoon equivalent.

I’d burn here if that’s what it takes by @blaineandsamevanderson and Skaboom: Another serial arsonist story, with much more direct consequences to Tarlos.

Fun and games (and friendly discussions) by @fallout-mars: An exception to the “disasters” rule, where the Catan crew have thoughts on the near-disastrous sinking of the new ship that is Nanteo in 3x17.

Heat wave by AliceSchuyler: During a particularly scorching day, Mateo gets bad heat stroke. It’s not a fun time, but good thing his firefighter family’s looking out for him just as much as he did them.

Family’s comfort by Gucci_Chainsaw: When the 126 report to an apartment fire, Mateo gets injured and trapped in its basement.

Put others oxygen masks on first by lorarawr: A 2x12 AU-coda where Mateo visits Tarlos at their hotel after they lose their home, and drops off more than just supplies from Owen’s house.

Mateo (not as underrated as I thought):

The company we keep by cosmiceverafter: Marjan, Paul and Mateo attend the Austin State Fair on their shift off, and bond over Moana.

On your side by @marjansmarwani: Mateo gains two protective brothers as the new 126 members meet and bond with each other.

These three works by fan_gworl should also be a series! Some Mateo whump included.

Cake, slang, and misunderstandings by Joanna_Kay: Hilarity, some heartbreak, and heartwarmth ensues after Mateo tries out some lingo in conversation with the 126.

Making the man by Joanna_Kay: A two-part series that, even if lot of it is retconned (like how his parents or at least his father still live in Mexico while he stayed with extended fam), explores how difficult Mateo’s childhood would have been as a disabled Hispanic kid.

In the meantime by @morganaspendragonss: In this 2x10 AU, Marjan offers Mateo her place to live in before Owen does. It’s another sweet big sister move. ^^

mateo begins by @lire-casander: How Mateo is just as much a mama’s boy as the father-figure magnet he later becomes. CW: discussion of disability struggles and bullying.

Jurassic Park & coffee cups by InkpotGod97: Mateo gets Marjan a thoughtful gift!

Allergies/asthma by @stardustviolet: TK owes Mateo an apology for blowing off his allergy to cat dander.

I know you can’t see it by myemergence: After Mateo gets his heart broken, Marjan assures him that he will always be enough. This was such a sweet sister-brother moment!

Cutting it close by tiniestmite: Carlos and Mateo have another friendship moment, but not without a little kitchen accident b/c it wouldn’t be 9-1-1 without a little lighthearted severity.

Officer Mateo at your service by mionejaina1011: Mateo meets Carlos earlier than in canon as a police officer.

Come deliver me back home by @morganaspendragonss: Mateo, TK and Carlos reckon with the arson attack one late night after Mateo has a long day.

(Des)esperanza, Leaving pieces of me behind by TearsThisSideOfHeaven: Two instances where Mateo and Carlos struggle in living not just as first responders, but as two Latino men in a red state that hasn’t completely accepted them.

Scent is the strongest sense by barelyprolific: How Mateo possibly develops a crush on Nancy after the dust storm. How come we didn’t get to see this in the show?

Speak my language by LynnOver: Where Mateo steps in as translator for TK when he encounters a Spanish family who doesn’t speak English.

Deja vu by HeartAngel1796: Mateo’s sitcom dream from 4x11 starts to blend into his reality, WandaVision style. Even imagining it feels trippy o_O.

Nancy (okay I was wrong— she gets way less personal stories than Paul):

Nancy Gillian brainrot by douglasdavenportslut: An abandoned series of ideas about Nancy’s character.

My armor falls apart by @marjansmarwani: Nancy, much like Carlos, grapples with the fear of losing TK in this 3x02 coda.

Finally standing on the inside by RamblingDisaster73: The events of 3x07 to 3x08 from Nancy’s POV (minus the inventory scene).

We’ll be just fine, On the outside always looking in by @morganaspendragonss: Two great character studies of Nancy as she meets TK and is accepted into the 126 family.

You’ll never walk alone, rejoice your truth @doublel27: The first story covers a convo between Nancy and Mateo about the events of 3x12, the second story a queer bonding moment when Nancy and TK man a medical tent at the Austin Pride Festival.

I always knew you’d find your way by @fallout-mars: Nancy has her own POV about TK and Carlos’ breakup, and the time after.

Soulmates aren’t just lovers by @nancys-braids: A series of “Nancy Begins” stories that start from her college years and continues into the present canon. Supporting characters include Carlos, Mateo and Marjan!

It’s not so weird after all by shes_an_oddbird: An ongoing series of codas about how Nancy and Mateo became Nanteo, because I’m pretty sure the show writers speed-built this ship by the seat of their pants and gave it a false start. Thank you for making this!

Tagging next, and this should still be open: @lutavero @reyesstrand @toomanycupsoftea @fitzherbertssmolder @marjansmarwani

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

@disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @darkrose517 @panicatthediaz @mandriice @nightmareglitter

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Eddie's POV

Jesus H Christ! He buried his face into Chrissy's neck as they drove back to the Byers. It was completely quiet. The only sound was Steve fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Even Dustin was quiet in the back seat. Lucas chose to ride with Wayne and Max. Chrissy had her feet in Steve's lap again so that she was touching him. Eddie was pretty sure they were all shaking. He never wanted to see Red like that again. He remembered the first time he really talked to her and how she was sitting on the steps of her trailer, trying to act like she hadn't been crying. He approached cautiously, but she still looked skittish.

"Just because we listen to the same music doesn't mean that we are the same," Eddie had said and paused. "Not to speak ill of the dead or anything."

"Wouldn't have anything nice to say about him anyway. . .except for the fact that he saved my friend's life in the fire," Max said. "How do you know?"

"He brought you once to pick up his drugs. You were asleep. I thought it was shitty of him to leave you sleeping in the car without rolling down any of the windows. Didn't say anything, though. One look from that dude scared me shitless," Eddie told her and paused again. "You can still hate him for what he did, you know? One good thing doesn't necessarily erase all the bad. It would take a lot more good things to do that. Holding onto that hate, though? Means he wins, he got under your skin. If you ever decide to forgive him, it should be on your terms. . .not on his."

"Aren't you a thousand year old senior? How the hell are you so smart?" Max said, and Eddie had laughed. "My mom is snoring. I think she's asleep. She drinks a lot, I hate it when she drinks."

Eddie let her know then that they kept the door unlocked, so if she had ever wanted a place to hide out at their place, it was available, as was Granny Ecker's. After that, Wayne would walk out of the trailer for a "smoke break" whenever she did come over and would clean up her mom so she wouldn't have to. Both Max and Eddie knew immediately what he was up to. Like his uncle, apparently, Eddie was a sucker for lost sheep, and Max Mayfield was a lost sheep. He wasn't going to lose her.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Chrissy's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Max," Eddie said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Me too," Chrissy said.

"We're going to stop this bastard," Steve said, his voice thick as well.

Eddie glanced at him, and he could tell Steve was seconds away from crying. He placed his hand on the back of Steve’s neck and watched as he leaned back into his touch. Steve sighed as Eddie caressed the back of his neck. When they pulled into the driveway, Wayne was pulling in behind them, which was crazy because he had left with Max first. The explanation came when Max climbed out with Lucas, licking an ice cream cone. Eddie raised an eyebrow at his uncle.

"What? She was upset. When you're upset, you get an ice cream cone," Wayne said. "I don't make the rules, son."

"If you wanted an ice cream cone, you should have gotten possessed by an evil wizard," Max shrugged and stuck her tongue out at Eddie.

She was still shakey and pale, but Eddie could tell the ice cream was helping. He laughed and ruffled her hair before walking back into the house. Of course, Gareth opened his mouth to complain about the ice cream, but when he saw the serious look on Eddie's face, he stopped.

"Shit. What happened?" Gareth asked.

Eddie gave them the rundown on what happened, and Gareth cursed.

"You okay, Red?" Jeff asked, and Max shrugged. "Yeah, I get that."

"So, now what?" Frank asked.

"Now, we wait until the others get back," Wayne said. "Decide what we're going to do next."

They waited for them in a tense but comfortable silence. Max was finishing her ice cream while leaning against Wayne's arms. Eddie smiled softly. It was nice that Max had an adult to lean on, and Wayne was a good parental figure to have around. The secret knock came a few moments later, and the others came into the house.

"I'm just thankful I'm back in my own clothes again," Robin said.

"You definitely look a lot better," Vickie said with a grin. "Very se - oh!"

Chrissy had gotten up and thrown herself into Vickie's arms, hugging her tightly.

"What happened?" Nancy asked.

"Vecna tried to come after Max," Steve scowled. "Luckily, she had her Walkman with her."

"Yes, you were right about the music connection, Wayne," Nancy said.

"Pretty smart for a Munson," Wayne said proudly.

"Probably the smartest in the room, I'd say," Max said, and Nancy laughed.

"Hey!" Eddie exclaimed. "You're lucky you get a pass, Red."

"Vecna is definitely the one who killed Victor Creel's family. He went after Victor's trauma from World War 2, and from the way Victor described it, his family was killed exactly the way Fred was," Nancy shivered, and Vickie squeezed her shoulder.

"Why the hell is he doing this?" Frank asked.

"Do you think maybe he's trying to get into our world from the Upside Down?" Dustin asked with a frown.

"You think he's possibly using people to form gateways?" Nancy asked.

"Maybe," Dustin shrugged.

"When Barb disappeared, it was quick. I didn't even hear her scream. She was sitting by the pool, and then she was gone. He could have used her to open a gate," Nancy said. "And then a demogorgon dragged her in the Upside Down. I never wanted to look at Steve's pool after that so I didn't."

"You think he's been trying to get out since then," Dustin said.

"Wait, what about in 84? Why didn't he try to get out then too? When the sickness was spreading and the demodogs created those tunnel things?" Steve asked.

"Maybe it wasn't big enough," Dustin said.

"Shit," Nancy cursed.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"No, it's a stupid theory," Nancy said.

"There's nothing stupid here, darling," Wayne encouraged. "Go on."

"I think it's possible that he might be trying to bring the Upside Down into Hawkins," Nancy said. "Make this place his own or maybe build it for El. That's what the Mind Flayer said before. That he wanted to build it for her."

"Shit," everyone cursed, and they went silent as it sunk in.

"When exactly did he get trapped in the Upside Down?" Frank asked.

"Does it matter?" Lucas asked.

"It does!" Nancy and Dustin said together.

"El never told us how she escaped Hawkins Lab," Dustin said.

"Because she doesn't remember," Max replied.

"Exactly. She was weak and disoriented, which meant that she had already used her powers. It had to be something big," Dustin said.

"Like trapping someone in the Upside Down?" Nancy asked.

"I think. . .I think he might have been trying to use Barb and Will to open the gates, or maybe they were his first expiriments," Dustin said.

"No, because Will was being kept alive, remember?" Nancy said. "And then Barb was killed. He didn't need her."

"Okay, so he needed Will alive. Why?" Dustin asked.

"I don't know," Nancy said.

"Maybe he's trying to build an army," Eddie said.

"Could be. For El, maybe?" Dustin asked. "Like a weird twisted way of courting her?"

"No, I think it's her power he admires," Nancy said.

"She doesn't have any powers," Max said. "Not anymore."

"Maybe not now. Has anyone tried calling the Byers?" Nancy asked.

"Tried calling them when we were at Steve's, but I didn't get a hold of them. Joyce has that telemarketing job, so she keeps the line pretty busy," Dustin said.

"Well, we'll wait until night fall, and then we'll check out Lover's Lake," Nancy said. "Check and see if there's a gate. There are trees so it would be more secluded than the parking lot."

"How would we check for a gate in Lover's Lake?" Jeff asked.

Dustin grinned and pulled out a compass. Eddie drowned out Dustin's explanation as he went over everything in his head. If this fucker was as powerful as they said he was, how the fuck were they supposed to defeat them without superpowers? Holy shit. Has it really been only like two days since he met Steve and Chrissy in the woods. It felt like a lifetime ago. Fuck. They both took his hands in his, as if reading his mind. All of this was just happening way to his fast.

Chapter Thirteen

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews: Darklord Daclaud Heinfroth

Domain: Dominia Formation: 740 BC Power Level: 💀💀💀💀 ⚫ Sources: 2e: Bleak House, Domains of Dread, Feast of Goblyns, Ravenloft Campaign Setting: Domains and Denizens; 3e: Ravenloft 3e (brief description of the Domain in the Sea of Sorrows write up)

“Doctor” Daclaud Heinfroth is the Darklord of Dominia and debatably ruled over Gundarak for a brief period of time. Heinfroth is a rather hairy individual with a heavy bread and eyebrows that could use a fair amount of sculpting. In fact, his overall appearance is much like a stereotypically werewolf in their human form…Except this particular wolf like man eventually became a vampire.

Heinfroth grew up in Gundarak and became obsessed with mental illness after witnessing the mental decline and eventual death of his mother when he was a child. Heinfroth researched the cause of his mother’s mortality and soon discovered that psychiatric illness and mental disability ran in his family.

Convinced that one day he would meet the same fate as his mother, Heinfroth obsessively studied mental illness with the goal of curing the condition before it had the chance to take hold of him. However, as the years passed by in diligent study, he was no closer to a cure.

Eventually he became haunted by a voice that filled his head and visions of horrors just in the corners of his eyes. Believing this to be the first signs of his declining mental health, Heinfroth panicked and began to conduct experiments that certainly would not pass any ethical boards of health.

Heinfroth performed direct transfusions of the spinal and cerebral fluid from who those he deemed as “sane” to those he deemed “insane”. This process left many of his ‘patients’ incoherent and in a debilitated mental state. This mattered little to the ‘doctor’ and Heinfroth saw his experimentations as great successes. In fact, he decided to perform the procedure on himself before he had definitive results as all good ‘mad’ scientists do...

He kidnaped a young woman to fulfill the role of ‘cerebral fluid donator’ and after draining her fluid, injected it into himself. As chance would have it, this young woman was in the process of becoming one of Duke Gundar’s vampire brides. Perhaps Gundar should have watched over her more closely? The amount of vampires that lose their would be ‘brides’ to random kidnappings and supposed do-gooders is staggering. They certainly do not know how to take care of their investments.

Regardless, injecting the cerebral fluid of a half-turned vampire resulted in a rather unique transformation in our hairy doctor. He became a cerebral vampire, a vampire that feeds on the cerebral fluid of the brain instead of blood. Cerebral vampires slowly drain their victim’s mental capacities, eventually leaving them with nothing but the haunting echoes of their former mind. They are, in some ways, stronger than your typical vampire – they are unharmed by the sun (though some sources indicate that they eventually begin to burn), cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons, their gaze is akin to the hypnotic pattern spell, and their touch acts as the confusion spell. Heinfroth has been known to flaunt his love for garlic to confuse any potential hunters.

They, naturally, have their own weaknesses. Cerebral vampires must sleep in a coffin for 8 hours over the course of a 24 hour period, though this does not need to be during the day. They are repelled by the scent of pure alcohol and holy symbols, though neither can destroy them. There’s something to be said about  a doctor that’s unable to use pure alcohol to sterilize their equipment…

The only proven way to destroy a cerebral vampire completely is to bind them in a straitjacket, cut off their head, and stuff their mouth with holy wafers.

Now that I’ve discussed what a cerebral vampire is, let us return to Heinfroth’s origins. When Gundar discovered what Heinfroth had done to his future bride, he was enraged and planned on killing him in a most violent fashion. That is, until Gundar realized that because Heinfroth took his future bride’s cerebral fluid, Gundar could use his mental domination on the ‘doctor’.

Gundar forced Heinfroth to serve him for decades. In 735 BC, Gundar and Heinfroth plotted to overthrow Harkon Lukas and enlist Heinfroth as Kartakass’s new lord. Now, just because one looks like a werewolf doesn’t mean they are suited to rule over a Domain of wolves. Do you have any musical talent, Heinfroth? I think not and Harkon, rightfully so, foiled their plot with a bit of trickery of his own…that and the assistance of a party of adventurers.

Heinfroth never wanted Kartakass, however, and planned on overthrowing Gundar himself. Gundar is an idiot. He trusted Heinfroth explicitly and lured the adventurer who foiled his plans into a trap – a trap in which Gundar himself was rather helpless within. Now, he was only to appear helpless and Heinfroth was supposed to dominate the group of ‘heroes’ once they were properly lured in, but instead Heinfroth did nothing and watched as the ‘heroes’ destroyed his master.

Heinfroth claimed lordship of Gundarak, but shirked his duties in favor of feeding upon more victims at his asylum.  When the Grand Conjunction of 740 BC occurred, through no fault of my own, Gundarak was absorbed by Barovia and Invidia and Heinfroth was gifted his own domain – a small island known as Dominia. Dominia only contains Dr. Daclaud Heinfroth’s Asylum for the Mentally Disturbed and wolf-infested woods. In another event that many scholars are still trying to understand, Dominia was dragged into the Core and is now an island within the Sea of Sorrows.

Heinfroth is still obsessed with curing his own future bout of insanity and continues to take in ‘patients’ that have the misfortune of washing up on the shores of Dominia. Some patients come willingly as well…I hear the good Doctor van Richten voluntarily sought out treatment there and was in Heinfroth’s tender care for some time before the little hunter went missing. 

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

"I need to know"

Dreamcatcher Yoohyeon X GN!Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: the reader is an asshole, mention of sex

"Where have you been?", a voice has asked behind your shoulders. The time was firm and cold. You turned your head back just to meet the furious eyes of Yoohyeon. "Hi Yoohye-", your calm greeting was interrupted by her voice, hints of rage in her tone this time. "It's fucking 3 AM, where have you been?".

Being the manager of dreamcatcher was fun, maybe chaotic and difficult, but definitely fun the majority of the time. The girls were a bunch of crackheads, and you loved them for that reason. Sure, sometimes they were a bit... peculiar, but they were amazing people. In particular you had a very close friendship with Yoo, even if lately she has kinda been a pain in the ass.

"I don't think that really matters", you answered with nonchalance, shrugging your shoulders. "You're my fucking manager, I have to know where are you", she argumented, her fists clenching at your smug. She hated when you were such an asshole. You instead tilted your head, offering her your best smirk. "Ah, really? I thought I was your manager...and you best friend", you crossed your arm, without losing the smirk. "Another reason for me to know where the fuck you have been".

This last sentence was almost shouted, and the change of volume made you flinch, not out of fear, but of surprise. You were ready to piss her off a lot more with you answers, but a third voice joined the party.

"What is happening here? It's 3 AM, both of you should be sleeping in this moment", JiU said, barging in the room, her voice still sleepy, her arms hugging herself, already missing the warmth of her bed. "Sorry, if we have woke you up, JiU, but Yoohyeon is acting crazy as usual", you blurted out, clearly searching troubles.

"YOU PIECE OF SH-", only Jiu's hand stopped Yoohyeon by addressing you with the right name. "Enough, the others are sleeping, go in your room", the older girl ordered to her member, fighting her protests just by her gaze. JiU, was usually a very soft and kind leader, but there were times, like this one, where her words were the rules.

Yoohyeon just gave you a deathly gaze, before storming out of your room. "Thank you, JiU", you said, with an happy smile, but the girl didn't have the same expression. "Don't thank me, do better! For the others and for yourself", she suggested, patting your arm with a sad smile, before returning in her room, leaving you alone with your doubts.

~~~

A day passed and another night arrived. It was a busy day, but chill day luckily, especially because you interacted with everyone except Yoo. You could say that it was a cold war, but honestly for you it was more like peace for yourself. A peace that won't have longed much more.

An hand knocked on your half-open door and a familiar face with a lot of blue hair appeared at the doorstep. "Hey, can we talk...?", she asked, the strees clear in her voice. You looked at her for a couple of seconds, in silence, thinking about that proposal. "No, sorry, I'm kinda tired", you gave her an apologetic smile before going back to scroll tiktok.

You know that she needed to talk with you and that she had very good intentions, but you were simply not ready. You were sure that even the most pacific discussion between you two could turn into hell eventually. You characters just didn't match in that sense.

She bited her lips, trying her best to keep the calm, as her leader suggested her few hours before. "Please, baby, I...need to know", she said, emotions exploding between every words and that scene almost made you pity her. She was your bestfriend and you hated to see her so in pain. You regretted every second of the time you made that silly choice. The choice of having sex with her.

You and Yoohyeon have had chemistry since your first day of work as their manager. And over the years you really created a strong bond, and there was clearly something more than friendship in your plans. The problem was that she had this giant crush on you, and maybe even more, and you were attracted just by her body. So, during a night of cuddles with too much skinship you just made the step. You promised yourself that it was just a one night stand, nothing more, your friendship was more important than sex, but how could you say not to her, when she appears in your room at night wearing just her lingerie? So made that mistake again...and again...and again...till we reached this point.

"There's nothing to know, Yoo", you lied, trying to avoid her other pain, but you can't really lie to someone who knows you better than yourself. "There's a lot I want, no, I have to know", she said, finally moving from the door to your bed, standing in front of you. "I have to know what's happening to you, to us...and where you have fucking been the last night, and all the other times you just disappear", at this point this was an interrogation.

And you hated that. You hated when someone try to make you talk when you're not in the right mood and Yoo was doing that when she knew well that it was something that got your nerve. "Do you want to know? Well, I won't tell you a shit", you snapped, getting on your feet, facing her. But she didn't move, she standed her ground.

"Were you fucking other girls?". It was a whisper, a calm whisper, her voice so low that gave you goosebumps. Her face was a mirror of your emotions, and in the moment your brain was fucked up, so you just opened and closed the mouth without making a sound.

"Tell me truth: am I right?", she asked once again. Honestly you were tired of lying and hiding the truth, you were giving the worst of yourself. You just sighed and lowered your head, looking at the ground. That silence was more important than a thousands words.

That silence made Yoohyeon smile, than laugh, then cry. A desperate cry. She was shouting and weeping and sobbing. She started to hit you, unable to express her anger and sadness with her words. And honestly she didn't have words for you, how could you have done that right to her? How could you be the same person who made her feel in love and giggling like a kid at night?

You didn't move, you just stayed still, accepting her hits and shouts, until eventually the other girls came in the room to take her away. You don't know if you would be ever able to forget the heart-wrecking look she gave you before disappear in the hall.

That frame was the only thing that lingered in your mind until something really cold hit your cheek. You looked at your side, just to meet Dong placing an ice pack on your face, probably Yoo slapped you and you didn't even notice that. You gave her an apologetic look, murmuring a small "thank you", but she just caressed your back sweetly.

"That went bad", she commented, giving you the ice pack. "Yeah", you hummed, interwining your fingers with her. "Did she know...", she asked, worried. Considering the rumours and screams coming from the other room, you could talk freely. "Nope, she doesn't know anything about us", you reassured her. "Good, see you later. I'll wait you in my room", she said, before giving a kiss on the cheek and going to check on her friend.

Zazá