#oc; evyn

[maccreadysbaby]

House of Wolves

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none :)

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

the first chapter of bentley’s fourth story and he isn’t even in it yet… what will you ever do

HERE IS THE NEWLY UPDATED CAST! I literally changed it this morning so :)

part one

❝ BLOOD RED ❞

TUESDAY — APRIL 11 — 4:19AM

SEVEN HAD NEVER DREAMED BEFORE. 

His hands shook in his sleep, his small fingers subconsciously curling around the hilt of the dagger he kept on the edge of his mattress.

It was cold in his apartment, and he was alone. Despite the nosediving temperature (thanks to his bedroom window being left open through the night), sweat clung to his skin and dampened his hair, sticking the dark locks to his forehead. His breathing was shallow, ragged, and every now and then, soft murmurs or whimpers escaped him. 

Of course, when he woke, he would never admit any of that to a single human being. The thirteen-year-old also wouldn’t admit to throwing the dagger on his abrupt awakening, stabbing a clean, thin hole into the light gray drywall at a hight that would’ve hit any man directly in the heart had there been one intruding on him. And he certainly wouldn’t admit that, upon his sudden awakening, he wished, for a moment, that he didn’t live alone in an apartment so big, and so empty.

He didn’t remember making the phone call. But the time in his call history indicated that it had only taken them two minutes to get to him. It usually took four. Maybe they’d come quicker because he was crying softly on the other end of the line.

And Seven never cried.

Exactly five minutes and seventeen seconds later, he was kneeling on a cool hardwood floor, his eyes downcast, staring at the woodgrain there with a shadowy figure circling him. The room he was in was a library, lined with dark wood shelves filled with books and antiques. The room had a single wooden desk in the center, massive enough to seat twelve people if you put them on either side. The only source of light in the large room was a small lamp sitting on the desk, but its light hardly reached the floor he was on. The door had been closed — he was cut off from anything and everything on the other side.

“Recount it to me again,” She demanded. Her voice was velvety and soft, but authoritative, dangerous, like a beautiful but deadly sword hung on a wall for decoration. It was overlaid with a thick accent. South African, if his memory served him right.

Seven didn’t lift his eyes when her shoes went by — black heeled boots; leather.

“We were… in the sky. In the clouds, on a floating platform. It was nighttime, and… storming, with thunder. I couldn’t see anything unless it was really close to me,” He explained softly, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Over the edge of the platform was the same — cloudy and dark. Whatever was under us, we couldn’t see it.”

The heels kept circling him, a shrill click, click, click that bounced around the room. There was no one else in the library, but her presence alone felt akin to that of a thousand armed guards, so nobody else really needed to be there to keep Seven from moving.

“And?” She pressed.

“And,” Seven swallowed quietly. “We were fighting something neither of us could see. I’m not sure how to explain it. Like… a wind, but… dark. We were both injured.”

She hummed. “How injured?” 

“Very. I don’t think he was close to dying, but... I was,”

The heels came past his head again. “And then?”

“And then, we… we were shoved off. Off of the platform, by the thing we couldn’t see, and we started falling, through the storm. Then I woke up,” 

A moment of quiet passed, and the heels came around him again.

“The other boy. What did he look like?”

“I…” Seven hesitated, replaying the vivid image of the boy’s fearful expression as they fell off of the platform — with these green eyes that pierced into his soul. He was pretty sure he knew every detail of the boy’s face, despite only seeing it clearly one time in the entire dream. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” She asked, a disapproving edge lacing into her words, her tone tipping slightly from inquisitive to interrogative. Some of the layers of her voice slipped away, leaving something forceful, darker.

“It was foggy, and I was dying,” He argued, bringing a hand up to fiddle with the sleeve of his pajama shirt. “I didn’t get a good look at his face.”

“Don’t get defensive, Seven,”

He inhaled slowly, but didn’t speak again. He pinched his sleeve between his fingers, hard, trying to feel the weave of the fabric against his skin. 

She circled behind him, and he felt her fingers brush gently across his shoulder blades in a way that made him shiver in disgust. “You’re unsettled. I never see you like this. What is it?”

Seven blinked twice, swallowing thick again. “It was an unsettling dream.”

“But that isn’t why you’re so tense,” She spoke not even a millisecond after he had. She came around to the front of him, and touched the hair on the top of his head. “Rise. And cease lying to my face.”

Seven didn’t dare disobey. He pushed himself off of the floor and stood, staring straight ahead, past her. She had a hood on — shadowing her face so it looked like nothing more than a black abyss in the dark room. He couldn’t make out a single feature beneath it.

“You should be excited. The dreams have started, and that means we’re finally going to find your Mūtāre Mundos,” Her voice came like she was smiling, faintly under the blackness. “Your true power is about to be unlocked, yet you stand here in trepidation before me. Tell me why, Seven.”

Seven bit his lip, keeping his eyes trained on the far wall. Several explanations built in his throat, but the words kept dying, kept turning to ashes on his tongue.

“I don’t know,” He finally whispered.

“You do know,” She hissed, suddenly very close to him. “I thought I told you to stop lying.”

Seven said nothing, but his eyes fell down to the hardwood.

“Tell me, Seven,” She started, turning away from him and walking over to some of the shelves. “What is my favorite color?”

Seven breathed in and out, his eyes trailing back up, watching as she began to stroke what looked like a decorative dagger on one of the shelves. She had on a cloak. Black, and long, swallowing her entire being in shadow.

Seven looked back down at the hardwood, pinching the hem of his shirt with both hands. “Red.”

She turned around again, her shadowy, black face still unseen by the thirteen-year-old. “What shade of red?”

Seven inhaled sharply, blinking once as the faintest of burns tried to surface behind his eyes. “…Blood red.”

She spun. One swift, smooth movement, and the antique dagger she had been examining flew but a millimeter past Seven’s head in a perfect spiral, landing in the wall behind him with a thunk just like his had in his apartment. The dagger had been spinning so close to him that the blade had nicked his left cheek on purpose — a small, searing pain, and then warmth bloomed there. And it was enough to let him know she was warning him.

“Lying to me now only claws your previous mistruths to the surface,” She said, sounding sort of… amused, the black mass of cloak coming closer to him until she was right by his side, unseen eyes staring at the side of his head. “Either that, or you’re standing here, worried for a dead man.”

Seven merely blinked, balling his hands into fists, fighting the wetness that tried to collect at his eyelids. 

“You did not kill Beniah Ivanov three weeks ago when I sent you out to do just that,” She spoke as though it were a simple fact. “His little entourage didn’t go into hiding because of his death. They went into hiding because you warned them.”

Seven said nothing. Only stared.

Suddenly, a fist came up and struck him hard in the side of the head, so forcefully he fell. A hand roughly grabbed his shirt before he hit the floor and jerked him back up. 

He, now face to face with the black hood, could only see the whites of her eyes and teeth in the dark. The shine of her lip gloss.

“No matter. You’ve only made my job easier by disobeying me,” She sighed. “When your Mūtāre Mundos gets here, Beniah Ivanov’s group of refugees will no doubt intercept him. They’ll do our job for us.”

She suddenly released his shirt, and Seven fell back a few steps, his left shoulder thumping painfully into one of the bookshelves against the wall.

“And then we’ll find them, and we’ll kill them all. And you’ll watch your poor big brother plead for his life as a punishment for your disobedience,” She finalized. She moved for the large desk and opened a drawer, sliding her hand into it.

“No,” Seven begged, kneeling again, with both knees on the hardwood. “Please. Don’t-”

BANG!

Seven felt a prick on his arm. He looked up, and she was aiming a gun at him.

He looked down at his arm, and a small syringe sat against his pajama sleeve, the needle buried deep in his skin.

“No,” He breathed.

The black cloak took a few steps toward him, kneeling down as his vision began to blur and distort at the edges.

“Goodnight, Seven,”

The world teetered and spun, and he felt himself thump onto the hardwood.

He woke up tucked into his bed.

And he cried.

—

tag list that KINDA works

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Compilation of some of the silly memes I've made with my OCs lately (ft. Ella, Evyn, Shireen, Rhea 2, Griffith, Aemon, Yorick, Baldric, Stannis, Taryne, & Aldreda)

[rainwingmarvel7]

coming in a day after you reblogged the thing to once again seek your insight on relationships with our OCs. Pls give me your thoughts for Robert + Kaleb, & Shireen & Evyn with whoever you think would be most interesting (in whatever capacity) 👀

But of course! Thank you for these suggestions, as always😉

Robert + Kaleb

Ok I do think I actually talked about these two before here lol but I can always yap about them some more. I feel like Kaleb and Robert are like the ultimate “dad best friends” who will immediately gravitate towards one another at any family function. If these two are in a room with one another they WILL find each other and start yapping. Their wives usually have to separate them. They are the bromance.

Shireen + Sarra

Ok hear me out. I actually think these two could be nice friends. Maybe not close friends, but comfortable ones at least. Sarra doesn’t really have many friends in King’s Landing, and even the ones that she does are kind of gloomy, and I think that Shireen would be a really nice breath of fresh air for her. She needs a positive female friendship in her life honestly. She might be a bit prickly around Shireen at first, but I think the longer she’s around her, the more she’d open up and lighten up herself. Again, idk if they’d be incredibly close because they are so different, but Sarra would certainly like her and find her refreshing to be around.

Evyn + Kaleb (it’s hard bc I only have like two people his age lol)

New addition to the Daemon hater club, it would seem. Kaleb is welcoming Evyn with open arms. He’s pretty chill with Evyn honestly. And anyone who is a friend of Yorick’s is a friend of Kaleb’s let’s be so real. I don’t know if Kaleb would quite know what to do with him lol but he’d probably take him out on the town every once and a while to have fun and let loose. I don’t know how close of friends they’d be but Kaleb would like him and would probably try to take him under his wing lol. And doing some snooping on Daemon together would be fun.

[pumpkinpuppeteer]

one of my ocs !!

the things on her arms and legs are scribbles btw

fanart is appreciated !! reblogs are too !!

[midnight197]

I was to inpatient to wait for Artfight to be more stable and with less traffic but I managed to upload my first Attack!

Which is a Double-Attack at @loumun-versen!

2020 I drew this two Characters for Artfight as well! I think I improved a bit, even tho the old piece is fully lined while this is just a sketch xD

I hope you guys like it!

[the-moon-says-hi]

ok so today i uncovered an old hp universe fic (all of the main characters were ocs and there was no voldemort being stopped prophecy they just ended up fighting him because of the ‘shit we live in this world we can’t let him fuck it up and no one’s doing anything about it so it might as well be us’ trope) i wrote in like middle school or something

and yea the writing is trashy but can we PLEASE APPRECIATE THE CHAPTER TITLES CAUSE LIKE:

(also did i mention that middle-school me had the decency of putting the characters in different houses and years so you had inter-house and inter-grade friendships between the mains?)

[theirishconstellations]

Intro post?

i sort of told myself that if i got to 50 followers i would do an intro post cause eh why tf not 🤷‍♂️. (i have no idea what i'm doing. ever.)

Hi ? my name's Evyn (irish spelling, i would apologise but my ancestors didn't die for that).

he/him/they (i am that photoshoot of Harry Styles in a tutu.)

ummm what else???

fandoms?? : i only rly post about marauders or the occasional random fandom but only cause i mainly write about them. But these are the other voices in my head:

The Marauders (thanks captain obvious.)

The Hunger Games + prequels

Interview With The Vampire (i both want to be and be with lestat)

Stranger Things

Percy Jackson

DC Batman and all his Robins (I can't pick a favourite so don't ask.)

Hannibal (i couldn't finish the show but i know the plot i promise, hugh dancy marry me pls i beg)

Supernatural (DON'T SPOIL ANYTHING I'M STILL WATCHING IT)

Teen Wolf (AGAIN DON'T SPOIL SHIT)

Good Omens (wtf neil gaiman)

Dead Poets Society

Glee (LOOK! ITS FUNNY OKAY?! AND I'M NOT ASHAMED) - i'm a Puck apologist.

Newsies (where the hell are my JAVEY FICS?!!?!)

Epic: The Musical

Shameless (ALSO HAVEN'T FINISHED WATCHING)

The Boys

House MD

i think thats all or at least most, i'm sure i'll kick myself later for forgetting one.

shit what else?

Favourite colour? idfk. (it's green btw)

WIPs:

He Took A Piece Of Me With Him on ao3 (silverwings_jp8!)

All These Things That I've Done

OCs:

Cain Travers (?) - i'll be honest idk if he counts cause i'm basically stealing him and giving him an actual personality and backstory

Rory Ripley (pls ask about him)

Kins (?):

Sirius Black (major)

Regulus Black (minor)

Barty Crouch Jnr

Jo March

Haymitch Abernathy

Things I do for fun (?):

Ballet (fun might be a strong word, Ballet and I are like an old married couple, we fight but in the end love each other. - note to self: shut up, you sound like a weirdo.)

Cook! (i literally have a coined family recipe, not to brag but i will)

love to read, like an outrageous amount (escapism who?)

Have a terrible sleep schedule

Paint

Plot out all my fics and other stories in my head and then not write them down like an idiot.

Sing (my shower concerts go crazy thank you for asking)

think that i'm funny (i'm not.)

Dance routines with my cousins so that our parents let us have a sleepover.

Things I want to learn but just havent yet cause i'm a lazy sod that should be doing homework rn:

Skateboarding

Bass Guitar

How to function (jokes, but i would like no migranes if that's available for purchase)

Piano

How to successfully put together a flat pack (i'm hopeless but using the drill is fun)

Boxing

How to save money and not use it to buy useless shit.

How to backflip

ANNNDDD that's all i can think of 😭

I'm genuinely an open book so just ask questions about anything 🤷‍♂️

[shinynewboots]

ivy / aemond x oc (Chapter 4)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, infidelity, angst, mourning, dubious consent, grief, alcohol, loss of virginity

Summary: “Do be careful walking the halls at night Lady Serena of House Tarbeck, there are many untrustworthy men lurking in the shadows.”

“Even you,” She asked, unable to stop herself.

A wide smirk found itself on the prince’s features. “Especially me.”

Word Count: 2.4k 

Previous Chapter

AO3

Serena was nervous. 

Once she had returned to her rooms, her skin felt as though it was on fire. Every inch of her body vibrated with desire and anticipation. Serena tossed and turned trying to sleep, though her mind was alive in the memory of Aemond’s touch. It was only when a haunting thought crossed her mind that she finally was able to cool her desires if only long enough to fall into a restless sleep.

What if Evyn simply never returned from the hunt?

Though she did not truly wish for his demise (While he was simple and a bore, he was not a terrible man. Perhaps he could have made another girl (a simpler one) quite happy), his death would have made Serena’s life significantly easier. At the very least, Serena could return home to her father and her bow without having to endure the constant nagging from her mother. 

Or, perhaps, a stray arrow could somehow have made its way into her dearly beloved husband’s manhood? 

“Oh Mother, I am so sorry to return in this way. My dear husband Lord Tarbeck has been made a eunuch before I was able to conceive a child,” Serena would cry to her mother (though, her mother did not have to know that the tears were ones of joy).

“My Sweet Child,” Her mother would sob, “We must annul the marriage! ”

However, Serena knew she was not that lucky. Evyn would return from his hunt, likely in a few day's time. Her escapades with the prince would have to end. She would be resigned to the life of being a Tarbeck wife and mother, delivering Tarbeck babies to an ungrateful Tarbeck man. 

The unappealing thought was enough to lull her into a restless sleep, hoping her dreams were better than her impending reality. 

Aemond was nervous. 

He had dressed in a simple linen shirt and black breeches. It had been years since he had accessed Maegor’s secret tunnels. Armed with only a lantern, he started his journey much earlier than he needed, if only to allow himself to get lost. Lest he find himself in the wrong suite giving an older lady of the court the wrong impression.

Aemond finally made it to the correct entrance within the tunnels,  where he hoped Serena Tarbeck awaited him inside. 

Maegor, or at least his architects, had been clever enough to place small holes are every tunnel entrance, only visible to those inside the tunnel. One never knew who was looking at them through the walls. 

Aemond peered into the hole and held his breath. 

Inside the suite, Serena Tarbeck paced the room anxiously. The warm glow of the fireplace and candles bounced across the walls in a playful manner. She wore the same overcoat he had seen her in the past few nights, though this time he could not see her thin nightgown as she had wrapped the coat tight.

Her hair bounced as she paced, the brown strands falling in waves down her back. 

Aemond could feel his resolve weakening. He tapped on the wall, alerting her to his presence.

Her eyes met his in alarm, as she tentatively walked towards what to her would only appear to be a wall. 

Satisfied that he held her attention, Aemond pushed on the wall that revealed itself as an entryway. She gasped and her eyes widened as he made his way into her rooms.

“This felt less conspicuous than using your main door,” He offered, now feeling somewhat foolish for his grand entrance.

She eyed him slowly, a nervous smile making its way to her features. “You Targaryens do like to keep your secrets.”

Aemond nodded and closed the secret passage. The chill of the tunnels was unforgiving and would not add to the otherwise warm ambiance of the room. He turned to Serena, his confidence waning. 

Perhaps this was a foolish idea. He was no better than Aegon, sneaking around concealed passageways around the keep and pushing unwanted advances onto women.

He looked over the woman before him, unable to meet her eyes. He watched her chest rise, a tad unsteady. Perhaps she was also trying to keep her nerve about her. He watched her hands play with the strings of her overcoat. 

“My prince,” She began, a slight stutter in her voice.

“Aemond,”  He corrected, his gaze still landing on her hands.

“Aemond,” She repeated. “I hope you do not find me too forward.”

He looked up at her sharply. She took in a deep breath and untied the strings of her coat. In an agonizingly slow manner, she slipped the coat from her shoulders to reveal her bare body. Aemond could do nothing but stare. Perhaps I truly am no better than Aegon.

“I hope I have not completely misread the situation,” She whispered, though her confidence grew as she spoke. “I am a virgin. I have been married for many moons and yet my marriage remains unconsummated.”

“You have not misread the situation,” Aemond replied, taking in a deep swallow. The revelation of her unconsummated marriage was news to him. The thought excited him. His hands, his mouth, his cock would be the first to ever touch her. He would mark her as his own, the unseen stain of his misdeeds forever upon her body. He walked towards her.

Her body was breathtaking. Her breasts were pert and appeared supple. Her shoulders were broader than most women, and her arms held the faint outline of muscle. Her hips looked as though they were sculpted by the Maiden herself. Dark, curly hair eyed him softly as at her core, begging to be touched.

“Her husband is a very stupid man,” He thought, captivated by the woman before him. He felt himself grow hard as he took her in.

She looked at him through her lashes, mischief shimmering in her eyes.

He reached out his right hand and cupped one of her breasts. Gooseflesh planted itself along her chest. He squeezed softly, pleased to find her breasts as supple as he had imagined. He ran his thumb over her nipple and felt it harden under touch.

A soft moan escaped from her lips. 

Aemond moved his hand in a slow manner from her breast and traced her collarbone with his thumb. She breathed deeply as if trying to control herself. 

In a sudden motion, he moved his hand to behind her neck and the other, unoccupied hand found itself around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He felt the heat from her body calling towards his own. 

Her lips parted as she looked up at him. 

“Aemond,” She whispered. His lips crashed into her in an explosive manner. The hand behind her neck tangled in her beautiful, brown locks. She kissed him back with such a need. This felt natural. This kiss felt as though it was something he had prepared for his entire life. 

His tongue licked at her bottom lip, at first asking for entrance into her warm, sweet mouth. Her breath, breathing into his lungs, was intoxicating. If all wine were as sweet and potent as her, he would spend the rest of his days intoxicated. No better than Aegon.

They began to move until her back hit the bed. Serena began to pull at his shirt, finding it unfair that she was the only one exposed. Reluctantly, Aemond pulled away and grasped at the collar, pulling the shirt over his head in a swift motion.

She eyed him hungrily, taking in his physique. Aemond knew he was toned and strong, all from the years of fighting Cole in the training yard. His chest was smooth, save for the occasional scar from training that had marred his chest. 

Uncontent with no longer touching her, Aemond grasped at her waist and sat her on the bed, pushing his body between her legs to part them allowing him to be closer to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her with a kiss. He could feel the heat of her core, so close to his cock. The only barrier was his breeches. 

Serena seemed to realize this and pulled at his breeches, willing them off. Aemond obliged and pulled them down, exposing the rest of his body. He was suddenly aware that his exposure might be her first glance at a bare man. The thought filled him with excitement.

She took in his full form, her eyes wide. She seemed more curious than nervous, which pleased him. She reached her hand out and hesitantly ran her fingers down the shaft of his cock. His cock jumped in response, which seemed to please her. She reached out once again, this time using a firmer grasp.

Recognizing that he would not last long if she kept touching him in such a manner, he grabbed her hands. He pulled them to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrists soft and slow, dragging out the anticipation for both of them. 

She bit her lip, a soft moan escaping her lips. He grinned as he kissed her. Satisfied, he pulled her hands close to him and kissed her neck. He felt the vibration of her moan as it escaped her throat. He sucked the unmarred skin, marking her as his, if only for tonight. 

He climbed onto the bed, covering her body with his own and placing her between both of his elbows.  She looked up at him with wild, green eyes. Frozen in time, she pushed a strand of hair from his face and touched his eyepatch. He pulled away, not willing to expose himself to her fully. 

“Not tonight,” He whispered and ran and hand through her hair, fingering her soft waves. She nodded, suddenly unsure of what came next. 

Aemond ran his hand that was just in her hair down her body, coming dangerously close to her core. He felt his cock brush at her thighs, further pushing him closer to his unbecoming. His fingers played at the dark hair concealing her cunt. She bucked her hips up at him unconsciously. 

“Please,” She pleaded in a breathy whisper. What else could he do but obey? 

His slender fingers separated her swollen lips and he was pleased to find her soaked in his presence. His fingers found her nub and brushed across it gently. Serena thrust her hips and let out a breathy moan.

“Please Aemond,” She breathed. Encouraged, he rubbed circles around the sensitive area and watched as she squirmed in pleasure beneath his touch. Her skin was flushed and red, building as he gave her more pleasure. Her flush traveled between breasts down her body, as if her entire being was brought to life by his touch. 

Her hands gripped at the bedsheets, holding on for dear life. Aemond had never seen anyone so beautiful. His hand moved faster and soon he knew she was close to becoming undone. 

“Aemond,” She whimpered. He met her eyes. 

“Let go,” He whispered. Serena jerked as she dissolved into waves of pleasure, her skin flushed and a glistening sheen of sweat coating her body. She breathed deeply and held her eyes closed as the high from her orgasm subsided. 

Aemond crawled up her body and kissed her softly. She opened her eyes and he saw they were clouded over in a haze, taking in the last few moments of pleasure. 

“You are beautiful,” He whispered. She looked at him and gave a lazy smile. 

“I need to feel you inside of me, Aemond,” She replied. Aemond almost came there. He nodded and reached down and grabbed his cock, positioning it at her entrance. 

“This will hurt,” He warned. She nodded.

“I know,” She replied, placing one arm on his cheek. “I want this.”

That was all the confirmation Aemond needed before he thrust himself into her with a groan. She let out a sharp breath. 

“Have I hurt you?”

“No, just give me a moment.”

Aemond stood still, waiting for Serena to adjust to his size and accommodation of him. She was warm and perfect. Her walls wrapped around him in such a way that even his wildest fantasies could not have come up with something better. 

“Keep going,” She begged. Aemond obeyed and buried himself deeper into her. She moaned and dug her fingers into his back.

Aemond thrust faster, knowing he would not last long though satisfied in knowing that he gave Serena pleasure before taking his own. They found a rhythm, Serena occasionally bucking her hips back in response when he hit her walls in a particular way. 

He found that he loved the way back stung from her scratches as she held onto him like a woman dying. He could feel himself getting close to climax. He thrust into her deeply.

“Fuck,” She moaned, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Aemond felt himself close to the edge. He pulled his cock from her cunt and positioned it over her stomach, cum spilling out over her stomach. Aemond hissed in pleasure, further aroused by his seed coating her body. 

Aemond breathed deeply, content and spent. He removed himself from the bed and grabbed a wet rag to clean her. She watched him as he crossed the room, his nakedness entirely on display. 

He cleaned her with the rag, cleaning her stomach and the small amounts of blood at her entrance. Some of the blood had strained the sheets. He felt somewhat smug at knowing that there was a piece of her that would always belong to him. 

“I will dispose of the sheets when I leave,” He said, gesturing at the stain. She sat up, wincing slightly, and looked at the damaged fabric. She nodded, still somewhat dazed. 

“I did not know it could be like that,” She admitted, lying back down. Aemond smirked, proud to know she felt as satisfied as he did in the aftermath of their crime. “Will you stay if only for a little while?”

Aemond nodded and climbed into bed beside her. He wrapped an arm around her waist.  Her body was so warm as he pulled it close, though she shivered under his touch. One of her hands found his own and she began to rub circles with her thumb in a soothing manner. Aemond soon found himself drifting on the edge of dreams. 

When he closed his eye and let his mind wander, he did not have to think about the reality of the situation: That he was truly and utterly fucked.

Notes: Okay confession time. This is my first time writing smut. I hope you enjoyed!

[berrys-hide-out]

The neighbours next door

A mcu Fanfiction intro (short warning; OC's are a part of the story!)

Hydra is back full force, Bucky is lost, the Avengers have no idea who Spiderman truly is, Loki wreaks havoc and three organisations with a few vigilantes try to somehow solve the problems while Peter Parker finds out more and more about not only his neighbours but also the war he suddenly found himself in. "Peter..?" Oh gods! How was he going to tell May?! "coming!" ----------

Peter Parker was everything but dumb. He’s guarding a secret so big that the whole UN would be flipping out about it if they knew, don’t even get me started on the Avengers!

He’s got a mind capable of solving some of the hardest calculations and his work shows in his report cards from no other school then Midtown High, and so it honestly was no wonder when he got curious about his neighbours, often times, weird behaviour.

Miss Evyn wasn’t much older than him. Maybe 1-3 years and yet she was extremely silent in her step. Not even outside but even in her own apartment, though this wouldn’t rattle suspicion of anything, it wasn’t all there was. She was often dressed in rather fancy wear and rarely less.. she never left the house with something simple,.. figuring she lived in queens in an apartment building, not else where, she should have the same money issues like them, although it didn't seem like it.

The weirdest things Peter noticed however, that pulled his neighbour into question was the weird leaving and returning times and the smells he sometimes picked up thanks to his enhanced senses.

Miss Evyn would sometimes leave at six am and be back at eleven pm. Other times she left at zero or even one am only to come back in the afternoon, sometimes she was gone for a few days, sometimes two to three weeks, other times she didn't leave the house for a few days.

On some days she smells like she just played in the most moist room you could imagine, other times she smelled like somethings burnt down, then though she could also smell like flowers or a specific fruit and it wasn't all that rare that she had a second scent on her.

Not a lot of jobs came into question that could potentially lead to such extraordinary most likely events.. and yet..

The boy shook his head, as long as his spider sense didn’t alarm him everything would be fine. He took two stairs up at a time, just coming back from school. A soft surprised hum left his throat as he saw the dark brown haired female talk with what seemed to be a young man. His hair, unlike hers was untamed, a wolf cut, with his hair in deep black, he had to look down to her to talk to her correctly, that’s how tall the guy was.

Miss Evyn’s green-brown eyes lifted to his brown ones and she smiled kindly, giving a small wave in greeting before refocusing on the man in front of her. When the man noticed him a soft scowl, ever so poorly hidden, emerged in his features and his Spidersense alarmed him of an incoming attack- yet before the man could even move to touch him Miss Evyn pulled him aside and freed the way. “Apologies Mister Parker.” She muttered as she sent the man next to her a heated glare. “Yes... apologies.” The man grumbled with a low raspy voice, eyeing Peter up and down and up again.

Peter nodded and rushed past them.

“Pull yourself together, seriously!” “He’s a mutant!” The man hissed back. “Davian, he is not a mutant and you can’t simply attack just because you think it’s right!” She scolded quietly and crossed her arms. “Plus, I do hope you remember our deal. Right?” Her voice grew threatening, yet she seemed to have joy in reminding the man of the to Peter unknown deal.

Davian bristled at her tone “Yes.” He grumbled and looked at the smaller girl. “great.” She nodded and eyed Peter, but the boy was busy fiddling with his keys.

How could this Davian guy know?! Who even was he and was he a mutant as well? Or some wizard?! Peter took a deep breath once he finally closed the door behind himself and leaned against it.

Some neighbours they had….

“Peter darling, how was school?” His aunt questioned as she peeked around the corner from their kitchen. “It was alright!” He called into their apartment as he set his bags down. “Got an A in science! And the AcaDec team has a competition next week.” He informed and joined his aunt in the kitchen. May smiled at him “that sounds great” Peter sent her a warm smile, the smell of lasagne meeting his nose. He went to the oven and smiled “looks good.” He complimented and May leaned over to look at it as well “Almost ready too, why don’t you already put the plates on the table?” She questioned at which Peter nodded “Sure thing aunt May.”

As he grabbed the plates he hummed. “Have you met the guy who was standing outside with Miss Evyn just now? Small face, black hair in a wolf cut and clothes similar to Miss Evyn’s?” May hummed in thought. “You’re talking about a shirt and cargo work pants?” Peter nodded as he watched his aunt place the utensils onto the table. “Yeah, those,” he shrugged “he just had a heck lot more jewellery.— like three rings on his hands, a chain… everything” He described and waved his right hand around while it was free when he set the plates down.

May hummed in thought. “I’m not sure.” She paused before turning to him again as she’d been on her way back to the kitchen. “Though there was a man here maybe a few days ago that looked similar to what you described but honestly who knows who that girl hangs around with.” She stated with a hint of aversion.

Peter hummed. “Yeah.” He stated absentmindedly. Davian, he remembered, was the name of the guy. Why did he say it as if it’d be clear as daylight that he, Peter Parker, was a mutant?! That, even as another mutant, shouldn’t be possible! Especially since he‘s never seen the man! He ignored May's slightly annoyed tone, knowing already that his aunt was everything but a fan of their female neighbour.

May placed the lasagne onto the table “why do you ask? Did they say or do anything to you?” Peter shook his head, “I was merely curious if you knew of him.” he shrugged and sat down.

“Peter, if they did something let me know I'll deal with them" she pushed worriedly and Peter shook his head, "seriously aunt May, nothing happened" he reassured with a soft smile. "hmm.... alright then let’s not focus on some random teenagers… remember you can tell me anything..." when he didnt say anything she sighed. "Where will you have your competition?” May asked, changing the topic and Peter felt a wave of relief wash through him.

Aunt May could often talk about Miss Evyn and get really heated about her style and late night habits. One time his aunt even refused cake from their neighbour simply because she was afraid she'd put somehting in there and if she had that much money she should've gone to find a better home or feed the homeless. Not that she said that into Miss Evyns face, however his aunt could rant about her for hours if she wished. Currently though his thoughts were else where. Who knew if Davian had superhearing like him…. And Miss Evyn? Who knew, probably not or she’d know about his identity… right?..

“Washington, DC.” he answered his aunts question. His voice not giving away his inner turmoil.

Some neighbours they had..

[azzyangelfish]

Imma do two so my first Oc is Evyn. She’s my ACOTAR oc, she’s from the Day Court and heir to the Day Court throne.

David- She would treat him the same way she treats High Lords, so with a lot of respect and would probably bow to him. If he says anything to her she would just nod along.

Huxley- Biggest smile on her face, probably would’ve run into him at a plant nursery. Talks to him about plants and they talk about their favourite types of trees.

Vega- Evyn would probably think Vega’s a monster and try to talk to him like she talks to monsters such as the Naga.

Porter- Reminds her of Azriel (a bit not that much) and she’d probably be very soft spoken with Porter. Talks to him gently but not condescendingly about something small before they part ways. She knows.

Geordi- Friendly conversation probably about something like the weather.

Blake- She’d run away. Or try to fight him.

Hush- Thinks he’s Bryaxis, see Vega’s interaction for more details.

ok cmere listen

take an oc you have from literally any universe that you have (other than redacted)

tell me what’s happening if they were to run into

- david

- huxley

- vega

- porter

- geordi

- blake

- hush

you can doooo as many of them as you want to

(this is just an excuse to hear about peoples OCs btw)

[maccreadysbaby]

House of Wolves

batfamily + oc insert

tw: vague kissing scenes. they're like, really vague, though. like "they kissed" and that's all

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

MACCREADYSBABY LOVES LOVE AND SO THIS WHOLE CHAPTER IS FLUFF. THANK ME LATER.

part three

❝ BIG BREAK ❞

WEDNESDAY — APRIL 12 — 7:52PM

IT WAS WEDNESDAY, THEY'D BEEN IN LA FOR JUST OVER TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, AND VERA'S PERFORMANCE WAS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES.

She was pacing her tiny dressing room in circles so vigorously Bentley thought her boots might wear the stain off the hardwood.

She looked, for lack of better word, perfect. Every single detail of her appearance had been carefully manicured, down to every minuscule hair on her head, burned into its exact place and hair-sprayed there by herself and Summer.

Her purple touched black hair was situated in loose curls that cascaded down, almost to her waist, and her scalp was decorated with a dozen or more tiny braids that pulled it back out of her face. Her makeup was done with just as much precision — her eyes were lined with sharp black eyeliner, and she had smokey black eyeshadow that faded into a glimmery silver. Her skin looked airbrushed, and shined almost impossibly in the light.

She was wearing a silver dress, tight and short, completely covered in dazzling silver tassels like a flapper from the twenties, matched with some chrome — yes, chrome — combat boots. When she’d tried them on together at the store, Bentley had called her a disco ball. She’d thought it was hilarious then, and bought them just to spite him — but if he tried to do that now, he was afraid she would spontaneously combust.

The dressing room they were in was small — maybe twelve by twelve, housing only a small couch, a vanity, and a two-person table with a mini fridge sitting on top. Obviously, the money had been used on the other parts of the LA venue they were in. That’s exactly what it was called — The Venue. Creative, right? — and it was more a karaoke bar than anything, but a really, really lavish and expensive karaoke bar with a stage big enough to have dance competitions on. The entire thing was sleek and expensive, filled with marble and glass and gold trim, and the stage where she would be performing was stunning. The entire building had been rented out for the occasion. On a normal day, none of them would have been allowed inside because they were all under twenty one — Bentley most of all, at seventeen — but the rule had been overridden for the event.

Right now, Vera was pacing the room with four different lipstick tubes in her hands, looking as though the simple product might soon drive her to tears.

“How can choosing a color be this hard?” She muttered as she whizzed past Bentley for likely the hundredth time, giving him an exasperated look and waving the tubes in his face as she passed. “I mean, what color are the lights onstage going to be? Because that’ll change what it looks like. Does red go more with silver, or pink? Or more of a purple?”

Bentley snickered as she went around the room again, circling back past him. “Well, which one would look best on me?”

“Make kissing jokes all you want, Bentley Wayne, but this performance is literally going to be the make or break of my entire life’s dream,” She rambled as she walked, going by the vanity and swiping another tube of lipstick off of it in passing. “It has to be perfect. Everything has to be perfect. Even my lipstick!”

“You’ve been practicing for this for six months,” Bentley continued. Vera whizzed by without sparing him a glance. “It’s going to be perfect. It has been every time you’ve performed it in Gotham, and New York.”

She exhaled sharply. “What if I forget the words?”

“You literally never forget the words,” Bentley reassured. She tossed one of the lipsticks back onto the vanity as she passed, coming back around towards him.

“Yeah, but playing at a Gotham restaurant is a piece of cake compared to a karaoke bar in LA with probably dozens of people inside who can either give me my big break or destroy my band and make me reroute my entire life,” She replied. “I’ll have to go into college. I don’t even know what I want to major in!”

“Hey,” She went to blow past Bentley again, but he grabbed her arm before she could pass fully, forcing her to stop. She reluctantly turned toward him, her arms falling slack at her sides, shoulders slumping dangerously.

She blinked rapidly. “I’m going to cry.”

Bentley reached forward, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into him so he could wrap his arms around her. “You know all your songs forwards and backwards, and so does your band. You’ve been practicing this set list for so many months it’s ingrained in my brain,” He said, smiling fondly down at her. “You’re going to absolutely slaughter it. Like you always do.”

Vera breathed in and out, leaning forward until her forehead thunked against his left shoulder. “But I’ve never done it so horrified before.”

“Well, when you go onstage, just find me. You did say in high school that I was the only one you could see in the crowd,”

Vera pulled back and scowled up at him. “Are you really bringing up that humiliating confession to me right now?”

Bentley shrugged. “I thought it was cute.”

Vera sighed, exasperated, and turned away, wrenching herself out of his arms and going to pace the room again. Before she could, Bentley, latched onto her arms and reeled her back to him.

He reached down and pulled one of the lipsticks out of her hand, holding it up so she could see the blood red cap. “You look best when your lips are red.”

For a moment, she merely stared at him, brown eyes on brown. Then she slid the tube out of his fingertips. “Thanks. So do you.”

She turned and walked away without another word, and Bentley snorted. “Hey. You just made your first joke since waking up this morning. Am I good or what?”

“Or what,” She replied, blankly.

“Ouch,” He deadpanned, following her a few steps across the room. Vera sat down on the small stool that was in front of the lightbulb-lined vanity mirror, dropping all her lipsticks on the table and popping the red one open. He suddenly moved forward. “Hey, wait, wait, wait.”

Vera turned around when Bentley approached her quickly, dipping his head down until his lips met hers in a kiss.

He smiled into it when he heard her anxious heartbeat skip and then slow down slightly, her left hand drifting up to rest on the side of his neck.

She pulled away with this suspicious looking smile on her face. “You’re a dork,” She muttered, sliding her hand down to Bentley’s chest and shoving him away from her. “Now get away and stop distracting me.”

Bentley shook his head at her, stepping back and watching as she applied the lipstick to perfection.

There was a sudden knock on the door. “V! Eight minutes to curtain!”

The voice was that of her drummer — an older guy, maybe twenty-three, named Alex. Her band was still comprised of the same group it had been in high school. Alex was a tall blonde guy who really liked to wear pink and backwards ball-caps. The lead guitar was a short black haired boy named Chase, probably twenty one or twenty two, with the faintest of yankee accents. The bass player was a little older, maybe twenty-four or five, with this constantly slicked back silver hair and undeniable… bass player vibe about him. His name was Jaden. The final member of the band besides Vera herself was Luke, a blonde twenty year old from Louisiana with a southern drawl who wore strictly cowboy boots and wide jeans. He played the piano.

Bentley had become more or less friends with them all. Not very close ones, because he didn’t really see them or spend much time with them, but he knew them well enough to trust them with Vera.

“I’m coming!” She replied, closing the lipstick and dropping it back on the vanity, standing up and brushing her dress off as though she’d gotten it dirty somehow. “I’m gonna hurl.”

Bentley reached over and shook her shoulder, vigorously, trying to lighten her up. “You’re gonna do great. I know you are.”

She spun around to face him, blowing out a big puff of air and resisting the urge to nervously fiddle with her hair, shaking her hands out by her sides instead.

“Thanks,” She exhaled, glancing up at him. “Looks like I’m all ready to go shred some strings or something.”

Bentley snickered. “Shred some strings? You’re a singer.”

“I have vocal strings,” She defended, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Bentley smiled down at her, looping his arms around her back naturally. “You probably don’t want to shred those.”

“Probably not,” She replied, smiling cutely. “Well, you better get to the crowd before you get reprimanded for being back here. I’ll go onstage and stare dead into your soul like an old porcelain doll to keep from looking at all the important people.”

Bentley snickered again, dipping his head down toward her, but she caught him by putting a hand over his mouth. 

“Lipstick,” She warned.

He rolled his eyes, then licked her hand, which made her jump away from him and shake it around with an: “Ew, Bentley!”

He chuckled, grabbing her by the face and planting a kiss on the top of the braids in her hair. “There. Go kill it.”

Vera grumbled something Bentley didn’t catch as she turned away from him and swung the dressing room door open. Beyond was a dark hall, with wood floors and black walls, lined with dozens of doors and, at the far left end, the entrance to the stage. All four of her bandmates were already over there, dressed and ready with their drumsticks and instruments.

He and Vera made their way to them before he had to break off, through another door to head out into the crowd.

One of the boys slapped him on the back when he went by, and he turned to be greeted by Chase, the lead guitar. He was wearing a white t-shirt and leather jacket that reminded Bentley of Rockie, and he had a purple electric guitar strung over his chest. His black hair was parted in the middle and fluffy.

“Biggest crowd we’ve ever seen. Wish us luck,” Was what he said, his brown eyes not focused on Bentley, but on the sliver of the crowd he could see past the curtain they were standing slightly behind.

“If you need to stare into my eyes, too, when your onstage, I’m all yours,” Bentley joked, and Chase looked back at him with an easy chuckle, a little of the nervous tension leaving his shoulders.

“Keep talking like that and you’ll have to buy me a drink,” He chuckled, and then he looked over at Vera. “V! Your boyfriend’s flirting with me!”

She glanced over at them with a bright, amused smile that sort of made the whole place glow. “You’ll have to fight me for him.”

“I might if he keeps talking like this!”

Bentley shook his head with a chuckle, heading out the side door with quick wishes of goodluck to them. He descended down a small flight of stairs and out another door at the bottom, and suddenly, he was in the crowd.

The place was huge. The ceilings were about warehouse height, lined with strips of wood that outlined dozens of square windows that he could see the nighttime stars through. Ornate and modern light fixtures hung down, just classy enough to elevate the whole place. The walls were all a sleek black, and a massive, blindingly lit bar stood high on the wall directly across from the stage, which a dozen or more baristas were working diligently behind, serving the unending crowd. The floors were hardwood everywhere except around the bar, where they became a shiny marble tile, and the huge double doors, situated both to the left and right of the stage, were encased in walls made almost completely of glass.

The stage was to his right, tall and alight with colors. There were people up there, wearing all black, setting up instruments and speakers. The front of the drumset they were hooking up said After the Apocalypse.

Bentley pushed through the crowd. There were high-top tables situated around, but no chairs, the patrons being forced to stand or sit on the floor. Loud intermission music blasted through the speaker system and vibrated his chest.

Suddenly, someone’s arm came looping around Bentley’s shoulders, and he glanced up, catching sight of Rockie’s green eyes glowing slightly in the dimmed area near the stage. The white part of his hair that reminded Bentley so much of Jason stood out bright amongst the rest, reflecting the blue of the stage lights. His metal gloves were concealed simply under long red hoodie sleeves.

He looked… Bentley wasn’t sure. Maybe a little uneasy, like he’d seen something he shouldn’t have. Bentley’s eyes strayed, cutting through the loud crowd of adults and teenagers until he spotted the rest of their group on the other side of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Bentley wondered quietly, glancing back over at him. He wasn’t really sure why Rockie would have just wandered off by himself looking so shocked. “Rockie, are you okay?”

He glanced over at Bentley, blinking like he’d only just seen him for the first time. “Yeah, I…” He trailed off, looking unsure. “I don’t know.”

Bentley creased his brows at him. “Do you need to go back to the house?”

“No,” He shook his head subtly. “I’m fine. I don’t know, I think I might… be coming down with something, maybe. I’m a little spacey. Head hurts. I was heading for the doors to get away from the music and lights for a minute, but then I found you.”

Bentley watched him closely, the way his eyes flicked through the crowd without really looking at anybody, like his mind was elsewhere.

“We can go outside,” Bentley suggested, but Rockie shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Vera’s about to go onstage,” He shrugged. “I think Summer has ibuprofen in her purse anyways.”

“She has a whole pharmacy in her purse,” Bentley replied quickly, and Rockie snickered, the far-off look slowly fading from his gaze and returning him to the grips of reality. He tugged Bentley along, through the crowd until they made it back to their friends.

Bentley wondered about Rockie. Was it bad of him to immediately worry and assume the worst? He didn’t think Rockie had a chance of relapsing on eating disorders or depression or anything like that, but it was always a thought that seemed to be lurking in the back of his mind like a shadow. When Asten wasn’t feeling well or got a headache, Bentley didn’t worry; but with Rockie, he did. Was it wrong of him? To think of Rockie as so fragile that he’d fall back into old ways, even after he’d showed time and time again to have overcome them, triumphantly?

He didn’t think about it for long; because they met up with their friends in the crowd a few short moments later.

Summer, Koa, Valor, and Asten were all standing around one of the round high-top tables, talking amongst themselves. Bentley and Rockie joined the circle seamlessly.

“I’m so excited!” Summer announced, clapping her hands and looking past Bentley, at the stage. She bounced on the balls of her feet and her hair, curled all down her back, bounced too. “She’s going to kill it so hard!”

“I was half expecting to see you onstage with her,” Asten said with a snicker, his eyes catching on Bentley’s, glimmering with mischief.

Bentley snorted. “Leave me alone.”

The stage lights suddenly turned from blue to red, and the loud, shrill thrum of an electric guitar struck through the building like lightning, vibrating the air around them.

The crowds in the bar went quiet, and five people walked out onstage.

—

Vera killed it.

The whole production had been perfect from start to finish. There wasn’t a note off key, or a second off beat. It had gone absolutely amazing, and Bentley saw several official looking people writing things on clipboards as soon as the band’s short set ended.

It had taken them a while to be ready to leave, having to gather all their instruments and things. A few of the official looking people spoke to Vera and her bandmates when they came back out into the crowd. When they finally made it to their friends, they were greeted by Summer squealing and throwing herself at Vera.

After they left The Venue, all eleven of them went to a fancy sushi restaurant (where Bentley ordered chicken.) and, after that, back to the beach-house, Vera's bandmates splitting off to head to nearby hotels.

At almost midnight, Bentley, Valor, and Koa were in the posh living room, each sprawled in varying positions on the gigantic gray sectional that sat in the massive space, blankets and pillows strewn about. There was a large glass coffee table in front of it littered with drinks and snacks, and a huge flatscreen against the wall beyond that was playing some car racing show. Bentley had no idea what it was called.

Rockie had gone to bed earlier than everyone else because of his headache, he'd said. Asten, Vera, and Summer were all wandering about the beach house, doing their own things. Bentley's phone kept going off, and it was because Vera had posted a spread of pictures from their two days in LA so far -- a selfie of them all in the hot tub, him and her in the mirror of her dressing room, a picture of the six of them waving to her from the stage during soundcheck -- and it was getting a ton of online attention. Perhaps even more than it would have before the live showcase.

Bentley watched a red car squeal across the tv screen, its wheels blowing smoke everywhere as it drifted in and out of frame.

"Do you want to get in the hot tub?"

Bentley nearly threw himself off the couch when Vera's voice came in his head. He glanced around the dark room quickly, but only found her when she emerged from a hallway to the left and made for the balcony door, sliding it open and allowing the warm summer air inside. She was already in her swimsuit again -- a black one-piece she'd also bought whilst towing him through the mall.

I'll come, he thought, glancing back at the tv. But I'm not even wearing my-

"Come here!" She shouted in his head, suddenly.

He looked out at the pitch dark balcony. Vera was crouched on the edge of it near the glass railing, and turned to look at him just as he'd looked at her, waving him over frantically with her hands.

Bentley stood, rounding the couch and making his way through the living room, stepping through the threshold of the house and balcony. Koa and Valor didn't seem to notice.

As soon as he stepped outside, the sound of tires screaming and engines whirring was replaced by the gentle lapping of the sea against the shore, and the rustling of palm leaves in the soft breeze. As soon as he was within her reach, Vera grabbed his hand and jerked him down to her level so hard he nearly fell over. "Look!"

He gathered his bearings and shuffled forward, following the path of her black-painted pointer finger.

Below the balcony, butted up against the beach, was a massive, extensive patio and pool. There was a huge pergola down there, covering a giant outdoor kitchen, and two more hot tubs, as well as probably two dozen long beach chairs, changing rooms, and restrooms, all situated around a crystal clear infinity pool that was glowing blue in the darkness of night.

There were two silhouettes in the pool -- it took a moment of Bentley's eyes adjusting for him to actually make out who it was.

It was Asten and Summer. She was sitting on the pools edge with only her feet and calves in the water, and Asten was actually in the water, standing very close to her with his hands splayed on the edge of the pool to either side of her legs. They were almost the exact same height with her sitting and him standing like that. They seemed to be having a meaningful conversation -- Bentley could probably hear them if he really wanted to, but he didn't listen.

"Don't read their minds," He spoke, and Vera looked back at him with a scoff.

"You think I'm that much of a creep?"

He cut his eyes to her. "You're hiding on the balcony, watching."

"So are you!"

"You dragged me out here!"

"Bentley!"

Her attention was suddenly on the pair at the pool again, and Bentley couldn't help but follow her gaze. Summer and Asten hadn't moved, they were in the same spot, but now, they were kissing.

Bentley moved quickly away from the edge and averted his gaze, so Vera did, too. They didn't stand until they knew they would be out of their sight, near to the sliding glass door.

"I'll use the hot tub later," Vera said. She looked over at Bentley with a giddy smile, reaching over and shaking his arm excitedly. "Double date! Double date!"

Bentley snickered at her. "You're awfully cute for a creepy stalker."

"I would've found out anyways. I can read minds," She shrugged with a smile that beamed even in the dark. "So... double date!"

Bentley shook his head, again. "I'll talk to him."

Vera bounced on her toes excitedly, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and kissed him.

Now. How was he going to talk to Asten without admitting he'd seen them?

—

tag list that KINDA works

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

✍🏻

For SotF. I know it doesn’t say but I was curious. Is there an OC you didn’t expect to create but as your story went along it just made sense in having them in it? Like you can’t picture your story without them?

Answer when you can. 🌈

Specifically SOTF? Hmmmm...there's definitely some side characters I absolutely adore (Rowdy House Mormont & Lady Serena Manderly, I will always love you), but in terms of unexpected impact "I need them," there's 2 really good choices. I've already talked about them both, but only Cassana Strong was talked about in an introductory sort of way so I'm gonna introduce you to my boy Evyn Waters 🩷

He's Daemon’s bastard son with one of the girl's from Mysaria's brothel, & the half-brother to my Royegaryens. He was a "time to celebrate my brother getting named heir" baby, & he served as a page in The Red Keep after helping Yorick out when he accidentally got left behind during "a field trip" out into the city, now as an adult he lives at Runestone as Yorick’s steward & is a professional Secrets Guy. He also has beef with Larys Strong for a multitude of reasons & they're all kind of silly if you look at them out of context (& sometimes in it lol) but no one said Evyn isn't petty (he inherited it from his dad).

There wasn't initially going to be a Daemon Bastard (at least not in any kind of important or acknowledgable way) in the fic, but I got convinced by the person who fist convinced me to write my fic (she no longer has a tumblr) to include that idea & I cannot imagine SOTF without Evyn now

[pleasemindthebodies]

Yall like motherfuckin g o b l i n s?

Cus I do

A lot

[hanamiyamakotos]

we already discussed this last night but u have the same energy as minmin and pascal from tvrn and also u have the same energy as isadore and a touch of evyn and miles

thats such a chaotic fucking mess but u are Right

[midnight197]

Friendly Fire for @loumun-versen! (https://artfight.net/~Loumun-Versen)

First: I love Umbreon, it's one of my favorite Pokemon xD Second: I feel so sorry for Enma ;w; Third: I hope you like it!