#pleas e pray for me

[inavagrant-a]

I love how Wanderer’s Korean VA always sounds like he’s pissed off about something as he should, awraxa.

[strawberrinoz]

turns out staying up all night didn’t make summer last longer 😞

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

[justporo]

Revelations

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Chapter 10

As the joy and their love still echo through each other, Astarion sweeps up Tav for another dance - that makes them reminisce about all the things that might have been and be thankful for all the things that are.

Author's Note: Three months... It took me three months to get back to this - I am deeply sorry but life - you know. I have however this and four more chapters already drafted ready for you - and there's still more to come so I hope you're ready to jump back into this adventurous night with Astarion and Tav, start the night anew or maybe get lost in it for the first time? Anyways, I hope really hope you enjoy a chapter of a lot of emotions and banter - there's quite some more stuff to come!

Songs: Serenade for Strings in E Major - Antonín Dvořák (and also that's their second waltz)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: none

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER |NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

You could have just stayed like this for the rest of your days: Astarion’s arms firmly holding you while the world blurred around you completely with your head thrown back and you dancing together until the world would fall down.

Your vampire being your single focal point, the one thing to always return to, the only thing you really ever needed – while the rush of the dance and the prickling sensation of having drunk just a tad too much gave you a feeling of pleasant light-headedness. Life could be so easy, so beautiful.

The waltz went on forever with you and Astarion beaming broadly, drunk on love, champagne and each other. And yet the dance ended all too quickly.

When an enormous crescendo began announcing the end of the waltz you lifted your head up again and grinned broadly at Astarion who was still rushing with you over the dancefloor as if he’d never done anything else in his life.

His red eyes were so open, the smile on his face as genuine as you had ever seen. A look that could almost make you believe that it had truly always been like that: no two hundred years of torture, just this perfect, gilded vision of a happy life.

You both knew it wasn’t true – but for this moment it was more than enough.

Horns in the orchestra rose up for a grand finale. Astarion turned you even more eagerly for these last couple of rounds, an almost feral grin splitting his face. Just the pure joy of the speed with which you were almost tossed around, made you throw your head back once more. A joyous, wild, almost feral laughter escaped from your lips – caused by the simple but deep delight of feeling so, so alive. You saw it on your vampire’s face too: a power so strong his undead self might’ve been more alive in this moment than others were in their whole existence.

Astarion’s hand let go of yours and joined his other at your waist and you leaned back even more to enjoy the dizzying rush, your hands quickly moving to cover your lover’s while you were sure you had never felt this free in your life. Flying couldn’t have felt any better than this.

And the vampire couldn’t rip his eyes from his beloved, the corners of his mouth curled up so far it made his face ache as he beheld his soulmate experiencing some of the rawest, purest joy, he’d ever seen in anyone. It seemed one of the divine entities he’d prayed to had eventually answered his pleas by putting you in his way after all. Finally blessing him with a piece of paradise.

But not a single god could have even competed with you in this very moment as Astarion could barely believe the beauty of the love of his life. His feeling of wonder and glee not second to yours in this moment that felt almost detached from anything – your surroundings, your past, your future.

Truly a night and a moment to never forget.

With a beat of the drum the orchestra ended on a high note. Couples all around you broke into cheering and clapping while the other guests joined in. The volume quickly rising levels over what the musicians had just ended with.

But Astarion and you didn’t join in. His hands were still on your hips and his eyes on your flushed face full of happiness. Your chest was heaving heavily. Who could have predicted that dancing could be just as exhausting as going into battle (or indulging in other physical activities). Your earlier assessment had been quite right you felt like. Although of course the aftermath felt much more delightful and much less dreadful.

It did nothing to bother you though because wild, unbound happiness was still flooding through you. And you saw it mirrored on Astarion’s face as well in the way his eyes sparkled like garnets and you felt his hands restlessly squeeze and tap on your hips, his vigour barely contained.

He opened his mouth wanting to say something while around you people were still in a frenzy. But before he could get a word out you stepped forward, dragged him down by his face and crushed his lips to yours in a way you had never kissed him before. The urge to show him how your heart was flowing over with love for him in this very moment was just too strong to resist. You needed an outlet for the overflowing in your chest – your whole body!

The vampire let it happen, arms raising almost helplessly before he wrapped them around you and pulled you in closer, kissing you back with just as much force and emotion. And when you released him, detangling from his arms, his crimson eyes were wide with surprise. He almost stumbled back being released from your passionate embrace.

Astarion was flustered and obviously speechless.

It must’ve been an illusion of the low lights, but it almost looked like a slither of pink blush crossed over his face up to the tips of his pointy ears. He blinked several times while his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were still on you: as if he had perceived a miracle right in front of his own eyes. And maybe that was exactly what you were to him.

Well, that surely was a first.

Your giggle felt almost a little hysterical as you rode off the last waves of this incredible emotional high and wrapped your arms around Astarion as your vampire was still staring off into space in surprised but delighted bliss. Meanwhile around you the dancefloor emptied slightly while the thundering applause had drizzled out already.

“We need to do this again some time, love, if that’s your reaction”, Astarion murmured as he regained his wits slowly and reciprocated the hug slowly. You buried your face at his chest, still grinning almost maniacally, not ready to let the moment pass.

Some of the guests passing around you, leaving the dancefloor threw the two of you glances. Everyone had seen your display of heartfelt affection and that seemingly had warmed up the crowd to you. One or two people went as far as touching your or Astarion’s shoulder as you kept standing there: the very illustration of a happy, young fairytale couple.

As that thought crossed your mind you almost started to giggle again – your little ironic roleplay had maybe become just a little tad too convincing.

You lifted your face off Astarion’s chest who had let his thumbs wander softly over your arms. “Now, my prince, are you ready to get your white stallion and steal me away for our first night of passion before we get married, and I have no other task in life than bear your children and raise them while you go off to some war from which you’ll never return?” you asked him, rambling on and on with the newly found energy and placed the back of your hand on your forehead in a dramatic gesture.

The vampire’s eyebrow in the meantime had arched higher and higher the more you added to the cliché imagery of your fairytale. He grinned at you, eyebrow still raised, giving him the expression of seriously questioning your sanity in this moment. “Darling, I honestly think you’re getting just a tad too much into this,” he whispered while the party, the drinking, the chatter rose up around you again.

“Also you do know my stance on horses, sweetheart.”

You laughed and pinched one of his cheeks. You were definitely still feeling high of everything and were in a silly mood. Thankfully Astarion didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he could barely contain his own laughter as he answered you.

“But at least you put the night of passion before the marriage, at least it’s not a prude tale,” he continued, his voice taking on a sultry note while he inclined his head to you.

“But scrap the terrible, stereotypical ending, my love, I’ll happily stay right here with you for as long as we both want to,” Astarion closed, his tone now a lot more genuine again. You could only answer with a big happy smile, placing your head against his chest again.

The orchestra in the meantime had taken a short break, some of the musicians allowing themselves to indulge in a singular glass of offered champagne before they continued playing for what would surely be a very long night still.

You pulled back from Astarion a little with a sigh: “You’re right, I guess this is all going straight to my head more even than the alcohol. I guess once we’re back home I will have to spend a week in the Lower City and get shit-faced every night at Maeve’s until they let me sleep under the big bench on the floor. You know to ground myself again.”

“Ah see, there’s my little feral street cat that I love so much again”, the Astarion replied in a haughty tone – with a tinge of disapproval and teasing disgust.

You kicked him – but only slightly as you stood too close to him to get him properly. “Be nice, you prick!”

The vampire only laughed and while holding onto your slim shoulders pressed a quick kiss to your lips. The orchestra was now getting ready to start playing again. The conductor tapping his baton against his stand again to gain everyone’s attention. Another waltz was announced while you tried to kick Astarion again for being a meanie.

“You could give me just one deeply romantic moment once in a while, you know that, Astarion? Without ruining it with your sass!”

“I didn’t bring up getting drunk at this piss poor establishment someone even dared to call a tavern,” Astarion replied. You simply tried to swat his arm but the rogue took a half step back, dodging just out of your reach

“Did you really get so drunk at this forlorn tavern that they let you sleep it off on the floor?” he asked with mock worry on his face

“I won’t answer this question right now, Astarion,” you replied and let go of him to take a step back yourself while pursing your lips.

“Well then, darling,” he said and grabbed hold of your wrist before you could step away from him further. “Allow me another question then: will you join me for another dance?” The low, golden light of the chandeliers sparkled in Astarion’s eyes as he said that with his head slightly bowed to you. He was all of a sudden on his best behaviour again as you heard the musicians in the orchestra readying themselves for another piece.

In this in between moment you took a second to take your partner in again. You had been with him all night. You had seen him get dressed even but with how he looked at you right now you were just wholly smitten by him again. He looked like sin in a suit – and you were so ready to indulge again. Forgotten was the short insolent quarrel. But how could you stay mad at him for long when the look on his face and wide red puppy eyes spoke of nothing but adoration and deep affection for you.

So, when his smile and his offered hand promised you another round of exhilarating joy should you accept his offer, you didn’t even think before agreeing and grabbing his hand.

His fingers wrapped around yours as Astarion smiled happily at you and swung you around once more while the strings softly began playing a new piece.

Your vampire made you take one – or two – extra turns before he pulled you back in, arm wrapping firmly around you once more and then starting to twirl around the room again. It was a slower waltz now that fit well with how the mood seemed to have shifted from electrifying frenzy to something a bit calmer now. The dancefloor had emptied quite a bit. Many of the guests, as you noticed while turning your head around while Astarion made you glide over the polished wooden floors, were back to drinking, chatting, showing off and gossiping. And another thing you noticed: if everything had been highly polished at first, just like the gold buttons on most everyone’s doublets or the silver of amulets around necks, there was a slight general disarray noticeable. Some cravats and scarfs had been loosened, buttons opened up, lipstick smeared, and headpieces started to slide dangerously off people’s heads. All which was going hand in hand with a general air of tipsiness and derailment. At this point in the night, it might’ve been impossible to find just about one person not slightly stumbling from maybe having had one or two glasses of champagne too many.

And you were pretty sure you even spotted at least one hysterically laughing tiefling lady sipping directly from a huge, heavy-looking bottle – having to use her other hand to even get it lifted. When another turn took you around again, you spotted her once more – and realised that it was the woman who’d been involved in the group from earlier. Apparently, she had dodged her cheating husband for a good bottle in hopes of something less treacherous – good for her.

Your gaze snapped back to Astarion, trying to find out if he had spotted her as well. And you knew he had when you saw his wicked, almost vicious smirk as he pulled you in a little closer with his hand on the small of your back. He sighed abruptly and dramatically while his face formed to a mocking expression mimicking disappointment and compassion: “Seems not everyone can be as lucky, loving and harmonious as the two of us, my love.”

Apparently just for the timing of the punchline did your feet choose this moment to make you stumble and almost fall onto Astarion. He hissed at you.

Only his roguish quick reflexes grabbing you by the shoulders and counterbalancing you stopped you both from toppling over. He lost not a moment before picking up the pace of the waltz again while you were still recovering from the shock.

Astarion clicked his tongue in disapproval, lips pursed: “I stand corrected.”

You snarled at him and were just about to show him how ‘harmonious’ you could be when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Someone else that was familiar.

You craned your neck in hopes of catching another glimpse while Astarion kept scolding you for not paying attention and how you would cause the two of you to lose the image of the imposing, perfect couple if you tumbled over each other while dancing. But you were indeed barely paying attention and therefore ignored what your partner was blabbering about.

Another turn and then you saw them again: another couple enjoying the dance together. Maybe a tad slower than the two of you and a bit less fluently. And in one half of the couple, you recognised your lovely elderly lady neighbour. She was dancing with a man much taller than her small frame, elegantly clothed with long black hair, tied together at his back in a low ponytail. While they slowly and a bit sluggishly turned, you saw how young and devilishly handsome her partner was. She was beaming up at him. And just the huge, genuine smile took years off her aged face.

You couldn’t help yourself, your mouth fell open. Your gaze snapped back to Astarion once more, hoping again that he had observed what you had just seen. And surely, he had, because there was at least slight surprise and even a bit of admiration on his face – his downturned corners of his mouth and lifted eyebrows giving him away.

“Old lady still got it within her, it seems”, Astarion commented and hummed approvingly. You had to agree.

“I hope it’s not for her money or estate,” you replied. You felt how the vampire just shrugged under your hand on his shoulder. You craned your neck again to look at them. But when you saw how he as well looked at her as if she was the most precious thing, he’d ever come across you knew it wasn’t.

“I do wonder though. When they go to bed how well she’s taking it with the age differ-“, Astarion began with a wicked glint and a grin that made him look almost fiendish.

This time you stumbled fully on purpose. Causing Astarion to hiss at you angrily again.

“You’re one to talk about age difference, grandpa!” you hissed back and stuck out your tongue when he began twirling you around with more force as if he was trying to work the insolent attitude right out of you by force.

Had he called the two of you harmonious just moments ago? Apparently only if the harmony was accounted for by the way you both violently bickered with each other like an old married couple.

“Why am I even taking this from someone barely older than a child,” Astarion snapped angrily while his grip on you got a little firmer, trying to show you there would be no more slip-ups, not under his watch.

“Be happy, I’ve decided to take care of an elderly citizen, love,” you spat back but barely hiding a grin.

Astarion huffed. “You’re not simply after my money, are you?”

You snorted. “There’s barely any notable amount to speak of, is there?”

The pale elf sighed in mocking disappointment: “So you’re only in it for the love – how sentimental and very unbusinesslike of you, my dear.”

“Guess, we’ll have to do with the feelings we have for each other,” you sighed back. Astarion too gave you another dramatic sigh as well while you shared a deep look into each other’s eyes. Then you both started to laugh softly before the strings of the waltz became slower still and more melancholic, the bittersweet music making a feeling of yearning rise up in your chest.

You were focused wholly on each other again with only the music lulling you. The room, the party, the other guests swirled by in colourful but easily ignorable billows. With steady moves again now you let yourself be taken away by the feelings rising up within your chest and your vampire’s tender expression while you moved over the dancefloor once more with the elegance of water in motion.

“Have you,” Astarion began in a much more sombre and genuine tone now after a while of just gazing at each other, “have you ever wondered how it would have been? If we’d met under different circumstances? Happier ones, I mean.”

“You mean, if you hadn’t become-“ you awkwardly gesticulated around with your hand wrapped with his. He simply nodded. And you immediately understood what he was trying to say: would there have been a version of events where you had found each other without all the pain and the turmoil in between?

The way he looked at you in such a vulnerable manner now made your heart ache. You saw the cracks within him he usually did his best to cover up and hide – and that he only trusted you with to only ever see. If only there was a way to relieve him of this weight he felt.

A pained smile swept over your face: “I have.” You sighed. You had to look away for a single second.

“Although in every version I’ve come up with so far we would have crossed ways and probably would have only spared each other a spiteful glance – with me having grown up homeless on the streets and you being a magistrate with noble upbringing and everything”, you continued. And then you remembered something you had spoken about earlier that evening, your gaze snapped back to his. “And I would have probably left with your purse and laughed about how stupid you were.” A weak smile played on your lips with the weak attempt of lightening the mood again.

You saw some of the pain you felt mirrored on the vampire’s face. His gaze shortly slipped from yours as well as he seemed taken by his own imagination of an alternate meeting, another ending to your story. Then he offered you a small, slightly sad smile when he looked into your eyes again: “If only you were an actual princess, things might have turned out differently, my heart.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, isn’t it?”

Astarion shrugged and was prepared to move on from the topic, but now that he said it, there was something about it.

“Although,” you began, catching the vampire’s fleeting attention once more. He cocked his head slightly. “This might have not even the biggest ‘if’.”

Astarion’s interest was caught, his full lips forming a questioning “oh” while his eyebrows jumped up. Frankly, he seemed thankful for an opportunity to leave the territory of hurtful memories and regrets behind.

You cleared your throat, getting yourself ready to reveal something about your past you didn’t like to dwell on – at all.

“Well, I might have told you that my father was a pretty high-up elven noble, right?” Astarion bowed his head to you, waiting for the new piece of information in this, narrowing his eyes.

“Turns out, he’s actually the king of a small, mostly secluded living elven enclave in some Faerun forest – all this being part of the reason why my mother dropped me on the steps of some cloister after birth. A bastard child is one thing, but the bastard child of a king – unimaginable, not tolerable”, you burst out all at once like ripping the knife out of a wound. And just like a blade viciously pulled from flesh made blood gush from the cut, making it hurt more, you felt how a whole lot of emotions of long hidden away memories were about to wash over you.

You couldn’t hold the vampire’s gaze for a few long moments while you fought to not get swept away by hurtful, long stowed away memories. Astarion’s gaze at you softened, his thumb wandering over your entwined fingers. He didn’t fully understand what all this meant for you. But he surely knew and realised when someone was not willing to share further details about pain of the past.

If you wanted there would come a time and a place to talk more about this and what I meant for you. But the middle of a dancefloor during a big ball was neither for that.

You remained in silence for long heartbeats while you asked yourself why you had so randomly offered up this piece of information about yourself – something that you had neither thought about in a long time nor wanted to pay any mind to in the future. Where you came from meant nothing to you, only the present and the man that held you was important for you now.

After a while you had caught yourself again and you lifted your head to meet his gaze again.

“I guess that’s just what we are right now, Astarion, a vampire only having broken free from his master after two centuries and a former street kid that also barely made it as a thief”, you said with a small bitter laugh.

Astarion let his thumb wander over your entwined hands again while he pulled you in closer once more, both his hands on your back now as he still made you both turn around lazily, another waltz nearing his end.

“For what it’s worth, darling,” he murmured and offered you a genuine smile with wide, open eyes, “I’m sure you agree we would have both been happy if we hadn’t gone through everything we did to get here. But I am still very happy that I’m here now and that I get to share it with you, my heart. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His crimson eyes conveyed his love for you as he cupped your cheek and the strings drew out a single last mournful note. Slowly your lips curled into a smile and saw it spread over Astarion’s face too – two partners in crime.

What was it even worth to mourn something that could have never been?

And you had to agree with him. You were incredibly happy for the time since you had met him, if not for the circumstances. But luckily, from there on out, things had been looking up tremendously.

Your future, you thought, looked quite golden, and with a fair share of garnets strewn across.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please):

@spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear @wraithmaine @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @davenswitcher

[klausinamarink]

KLAUS ok can I request a steddie human/monster prompt for your birthday special??? 👀🤲

(the way I agonized over this choice 💗)

LEIGH i hope you were alright with the wait! got pretty busy with visiting family abroad and had brain fog these past weeks but I am finally posting the rest of these ficlets! ENJOY

There was a hole in the woods and it had a monster at the bottom.

It wasn’t a mystery or a new natural occurrence or the beginnings of the madness plague. It was rather a fact that everyone knew about the hole and the monster. It was a fantastic stirring for the children’s imaginations and nightmares. It was a warning to the wandering strangers who wish to explore the dark wood.

Most importantly, it was the perfect punishment.

Regardless, Eddie sat down next to the hole as if he were settling a picnic at a seaside spot.  

“Hello, my beloved!” He called down into the darkness. It responded with another waff of decaying lavender. Eddie inhaled it deeply and gratefully with closed eyes. Everyone said the smell was horrible and moreso during the executions, but it never bothered Eddie once even since his first visit.

”Ahh, such a pleasant afternoon. The sun is out, the harvest was a success, and Uncle Wayne sold an extra wood carving!” Eddie chirped as he tuned the strings of his lute. “I wouldn’t guarantee we would be rich overnight, but it was definitely a blessing! I wish you were there to see it.”

The hole was silent.

Eddie laughed, “My beloved, please don’t tell me you’re still upset at me. I’m sorry for missing last week, but I warned you that I would be incredibly busy!”

He tilted his head, waiting for an answer. None came, but Eddie nodded anyway. “Well, I am here now! Perhaps some melodies can put you back into a good mood.” 

Eddie plucked a few strings experimentally before he started to play. The familiar notes filled the silence, for no bird or insect dared to sing trill around the hole. Then Eddie cleared his throat and began humming his beloved’s favorite.

By the time dusk inevitably came, Eddie finished the last song with a heavy sigh and stood up to his feet. “The night separates us again, my beloved. I will see you again shortly.” 

He blew a kiss, prayed that it reached the bottom of the hole, and went away.  

His shrouded beloved wailed softly as if they were already mourning Eddie’s demise. 

-

Perhaps the mourning call was a warning. A plea for Eddie to be careful and come back safe next time. Because the next time Eddie visited the hole in the woods, he was being dragged with a rope that scraped his wrists raw. 

He was blindfolded - better to be blinded by a wrap of cloth than by hot-iron pokers - and stumbled along the path he knew by heart. Quiet murmurs and jeers followed him like a procession. Every so often, the sharp tip of a spear jabbed at Eddie’s back just to quicken his pace. 

In the past few weeks, there had been a senseless slaughtering of several livestock. At first, the farmers grumbled about the direwolves and other beasts in the woods. Then people went missing. Their bodies were found behind their homes with broken limbs and missing eyes, all disfigured beyond repair. When a young maiden named Christine fell victim, her betrothed Jason Carver had made the first accusation at Eddie. 

Eddie had swiftly denied ever laying a hand on Christine or the other victims. But then few people had spoken about seeing him frequently wander into the woods and returning late at night. 

Within minutes, the town’s opinion of Eddie had greatly soured. Except for his uncle Wayne, of course. He’d tried for Eddie’s innocence but what could a poor woodcarver do against a court?

A gust of wind blew on Eddie’s face and he caught the first scents of decaying lavender. Eddie perked up instinctively. Beloved! 

But the spear jabbed at him again, this time breaking through skin and muscle right beside Eddie’s right shoulder blade. He cried out in pain and stumbled over. The ground scraped his palms and knees unkindly. 

Even with the thick blindfold, Eddie could tell that the edge of the hole was right before his fingertips.

Something small and metal was shoved into his hands. Eddie barely had time to recognize the shape of a lantern before rough hands pushed at his back.

And then Eddie fell into the deep hole. 

-

It was said that anyone who fell in the hole would break their neck. Dead bodies was a monster’s favourite meal.

Eddie did not break his neck during his fall. The bottom of the hole was very soft and muddy but he felt his arm popped out of the socket. 

With a painful whimper, Eddie scrambled to remove the blindfold. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness even with the faint help of the lantern, which had somehow barely cracked.

It took another moment before Eddie saw he was not alone.

There was only one story about the monster in the hole: it was a terrifying sight that even the sunlight was afraid of it.

It was why everyone who faced this perfect punishment was given a lantern. Should anyone survive the fall, they would see the monster and die of fright.

So when Eddie laid his gaze on the monster for the first time, he did not die of fright. In fact, his fear died midway through his throat.

It had a wolf’s skull for a face and shadows for a body. Long claws flickered where it grappled on the moist walls. Instead of fiery red coals or sickly green smoke, its eyes were a humanly hazel. Occasionally marks of bright red rippled blindly across its body as if it had been injured.  

Newly unafraid, Eddie called to it. A question rather than a command or plea. 

“Beloved?”

It rumbled somewhere in its throat. The decaying lavender stench grew from suffocating to gentle. Then it brushed its face against Eddie’s and opened its jaws wide enough to almost swallow him whole.

Eddie tilted his head back, feeling the pants of heat from its mouth. Instead of screaming or begging for mercy, Eddie began humming. 

He had no lute or instrument with him. But Eddie knew his beloved’s song by heart.

Even as he felt the mouth close and the sharp tips of teeth poking through the skin of his exposed throat, Eddie still sang. 

After he was done, his beloved released its jaws with a teary whine. A few hot drops fell on Eddie’s face before it was followed by a sudden vomit of warm blood. 

Eddie spluttered and nearly fell backwards, saved by a massive hand caught him by the back. Then it pressed him against his beloved’s chest. To his surprise and delight, the shadowy skin felt soft and feathery. 

Eddie bubbled out a laugh, “I knew you would never hurt me.”

His beloved dropped its head on top of Eddie’s and started humming their song.

[summeringminor]

𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙

rhaenicent | E

Alicent takes Helaena to a goth-metal concert. The androgynous singer more than catches Alicent's eye.

read on AO3

or under the cut:

“Are you sure they are not satanists?”

"Mom, please." Helaena looks at her with her smudgy black eyeshadow and white painted face.

When have her children started being embarrassed of her? Alicent clutches her purse to her chest as the queue moves forward. The night air is still pleasant enough, the early September days carry the last remnants of summer. The hall is only about a hundred metres away and they are right behind the VIP-ticket crowd. Helaena had demanded they be at the hall by 9am and it being a Saturday, Alicent had succumbed to the incessant pleas of her only daughter. She had packed them sandwiches, water, thermos bottle tea, and a tupperware full of snacks. Helaena had barely touched the food, which had made Alicent all the more nervous. But her daughter would not be swayed. Between that and the crowd—all teenagers and some girls in their 20s, wearing torn black clothes, spike collars, platform- and combat boots, staring Alicent down from black and red painted eyes—it all had spawned more doubt in her to really let her fourteen year old daughter into this concert. She’s never seen this many strange people, teenagers or no, in their little town. It seems impossible that a band such as SYRAX would garner so many people. From what Helaena has shown her (and her daughter only deemed it pleasant the once) an androgynous blonde man leads the band screeching into the microphone like a banshee, face painted white like Helaena’s is now, and the rest of the band shreds guitars and bass guitar in an infernal clash of rhythm and noise the likes of which Alicent has never heard before. No such concert could have ever taken place when Alicent had gone to school, the same catholic private school that her four children now attend as well, with its praying each morning before class and monthly Wednesday church service. Or perhaps Alicent had simply not known. As she had not many things. She sighs and draws her jacket closer around herself.

Helaena smoothes her shirt, her favourite of a Goliath beetle print, and puts on her headphones, lips forming around words she is reading off her phone screen. Lyrics of SYRAX it seems. Alicent recognises the chorus, has seen it scribbled all over Helaena’s homework. The crudeness of the words had left Alicent breathless the first time she read them, and the talk she’d had with Helaena had ended in her daughter slamming the door in her face and not speaking to Alicent until Aemond had brokered peace between them two days later.

God, is she losing Helaena too? Is it not bad enough that Aegon gets home drunk and smelling of cigarettes and marihuana despite curfew, despite Alicent going through his cupboards once a week and throwing away the plastic bags of crushed green and vodka bottles? She is yet more lax than her own father had been, but Aegon only curses or cries and then does it all over again a week later. Now, Helaena has fixed her unwavering attention on this horrid band and Alicent will be damned if she lets Helaena walk into this gutter of queer looking teenagers on her own. What if they hurt her? Give her drugs? Pull her into some kind of sataníc cult—

The doors open.

Pushing, shoving, high-pitched voices cry out. Alicent grabs Helaena’s shoulder, the next second the people behind them drive them forward.

A few steps further four unimpressed security guards check tickets and let in the enthusiastic crowd.

“Come on, mom!” Helaena hisses, brows drawn together as she rushes into the hall. The VIP-ticket mob already presses against the stage. No metal barricade. Security only on the sides. Breath stutters in Alicent’s lungs. What if they have to leave? What if they fall and get trampled?

Helaena unwinds herself from her grip, angling away.

She’s embarrassed of me, Alicent thinks. Oh god. Indeed she could not be farther from the audience in her green Chanel jacket, pressed skirt and sensible heels. People fill in behind them and Alicent realises how big of a crowd it has actually become in the hours they’ve been waiting since this morning.

Perhaps three rows are between them and the stage and this at least makes Helaena bounce on her feet and smile. An ache pinches Alicent’s heart and she cannot but smile as well. This is all she wants. Just to see Helaena happy—

The lights cut out.

Murmurs rush through the hall in its sudden darkness.

People move over the stage and the crowd cheers, but it is only two girls in torn band shirts testing the instruments. The guitars blast through the hall, and Alicent hurries to slip in her earplugs, handing the second pair to Helaena who throws them on the floor instead. Alicent bites her lip.

The girls disappear. White smoke gushes from all around and veils the stage like some old cemetery in a horror movie. A strange noise cuts through the darkness. A shiver runs down Alicent’s spine. Guitars and bass pick up. Drums follow in ritualistic repetition. The strange sound swells, heightens. With a shock Alicent realises it’s a voice.

Light strobes from the ceiling, red lasers cut through the gloom and against the smoke five silhouettes move in the fog.

A second of silence.

Then guitars and drums crash into noise and on it rides a growl so inhuman Alicent takes a step back just to be pushed forward again by whoever’s behind her.

The growl turns into a scream, shattering the dark. The singer steps forward, black torn latex coat, leather belts and strips of fabric hanging off it, and red splattered over it in acrylic brightness. The singer’s face is painted white too, thick vinyl black eyeliner, black lipstick smeared into red on the right corner of the shapely mouth, strong jaw, slicked back blond hair that curls in the singer’s neck. He steps forward, rips off the coat and Alicent realises that he is a—

–she.

Alicent stares up at the woman’s bound chest, more a leather belt than a top and latex trousers with strips fluttering from it just like the coat. All this time Alicent had thought… Her head whips to Helaena who is squished tight against the girl in front of her, arm raised and shouting along as the woman, Rhaenyra, Alicent remembers, sings before she screams again. The crowd surges around her like a creature of its own, voices rise to meet the singer’s howl like the sea rises to the sky in a storm. Alicent cannot stop staring as Rhaenyra walks across the stage, not at all human with her starkly painted face, the dark of her lipstick and eyeliner etched into her skin, gleam of spit on her straight white teeth, how her muscles move under the strobe light like some fresh blood-hungry creature in the old forests Alicent visited as a child. Heat claws at Alicent, sweat pours where the jacket restricts her movements, she takes it off and folds it into her bag as though in a trance, watches the singer’s throat move, the shine of the latex where it hugs her tight strong body.

Rhaenyra prowls closer until she stands right before them on the stage. Helaena’s voice screeches within a thousand others.

And Rhaenyra’s eyes find Alicent’s.

Sound drones into far-away silence. Heat strokes over Alicent’s throat, her chest, between her thighs as Rhaenyra smiles, wicked like a man and yet so different: free. Rhaenyra raises her hand, fingers splitting into a peace sign before she leans and licks into the V-shape of her index and middle-finger.

Shame pumps blood into Alicent’s face, embarrassment searing through her. It must be embarrassment. The crowd shoves forward in a wave, arms reaching out towards Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra laughs, crouches down—and reaches back. She slides her fingers across the hands of those close enough, almost touches Helaena’s as the audience rushes forward again, pressing the air from Alicent’s lungs as she is caught between the girls in front and behind her. Panic pricks her for a moment, looking for Helaena, but Helaena stares up at the stage in joyous abandon, fingertips touching the dark just before Rhaenyra.

The song ends. Rhaenyra stands and moves to the left side of the stage, the crowd relaxing just enough for Alicent to catch her breath.

It all happens in a haze, the music thunders around them, the people move and Alicent gives in to their sway and press and cannot but stare at Rhaenyra as she screams and howls and sings in her androgynous voice, brutal, haunting, sensual, the way she moves and bares her throat and finds Alicent’s gaze again and again until Alicent believes she must be imagining it. Her stockings rip when she is forced forward, her heels ground into the uneven concrete floor, hair all tousled, and on the stage, Rhaenyra sweats and gleams until she is more monster than man or woman, just muscles cording over bones, her shoulders broad, her hair slick and wet and loose by the end of it as applause shatters the quickly approaching night.

An encore follows, three songs that pass in a heartbeat. Breath evades Alicent, her lungs cord up, her palms sweat like the rest of her, she’s drenched the skirt and shirt and she feels with two fingers where her stockings have ripped by her inner thigh.

It’s over. The band leaves the stage. The roaring applause drowns out all else. Helaena elated beside her.

Rhaenyra leaves first. She does not turn around. Of course not.

The next minutes pass like in a fog. People clear out slowly, queuing at the merchandise stands in other parts of the venue, everyone sweaty with messed up makeup and hair, chattering with hoarse happy voices.

Helaena rushes to queue as well to spend her allowance on some gorey band shirt, saying she’ll catch her outside in a bit. Alicent only nods, cannot muster the energy to dispute Helaena and on unsteady legs makes her way outside. She slips her jacket back on, cards a hand through her thick hair, it’s all wet with sweat at her neck and temples, she must look horrendous. She rounds a corner and her fingers tremble where she holds on to her bag. It’s only now she realises how much her shoulder aches from the weight of it and having clutched it against her throughout the concert.

Teenagers loiter outside, smoking, drinking.

The sudden need to have a cigarette overwhelms Alicent. She’s not had one in years. The last one must have been in the hospital after the accident, the night Aemond had had the surgery on his eye. She shakes her head, cannot think of it without feeling tears well up in her eyes. She rounds a corner, leans against the wall. The voices are quieter here, shrouded from the remaining crowd. Somewhere a heavy door falls shut. She bites at her cuticles, checks her phone to see if Helaena has texted her. She hasn’t.

“Cigarette?”

Alicent looks up. And freezes.

Rhaenyra leans against the wall beside her, towel around her shoulders, hair tousled and wet, makeup wiped from her face but remnants of white foundation and black eyeliner still smear on her skin. She’s wearing a shirt and a man's jacket, cargo trousers, heavy platform boots. She smells of woody, masculine shower gel. Her lips close around a cigarette and she flips open a zippo lighter, eyes on Alicent as she does, and kindles the cigarette. The flame reflects in her pale blue eyes.

Alicent stutters a reply, unable to recall what she says just a second later. Rhaenyra laughs, lips stretching enough to show a gummy smile, soft and handsome all at once and Alicent takes the cigarette before she can think better of it.

“Not your usual venue, huh?”

“No,” Alicent says and takes a drag. Smoke and nicotine rush into her and she exhales the smoke slowly. “Oh god, that’s good,” she says.

Rhaenyra smiles again. “Tried to kick the habit?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. But I don’t last more than a week.”

They both laugh and warmth spreads through Alicent despite the now cooler night air. Rhaenyra lights a second cigarette, inhales, exhales smoke through her nose and mouth, and something shudders in Alicent at the sight of it.

“You, umn…you were…magnetic up there.” Alicent feels her cheeks heat up. God, she must sound idiotic.

“You liked the show.” It’s not so much a question but a statement and the boldness of it makes Alicent take another deep drag of the cigarette.

“I thought you were a man,” she says without thinking.

Rhaenyra brightens, a slight blush fills her cheeks.

“Oh yeah?”

“I meant no–”

“Who says I’m not?” Rhaenyra grins, leans closer.

“W-what?” Alicent swallows at the sudden proximity, inhales Rhaenyra’s wood-fresh scent, somehow more drawn to it than to whenever she’s smelled it on a man a million times before.

“Don’t really feel like a woman, you know?”

Alicent does not know. She can barely think with how Rhaenyra looks her in the eyes, a mischievous grin on her lips. She should get back, check on Helaena—

Rhaenyra steals the cigarette from Alicent’s lips, takes a drag and holds it in front of Alicent’s mouth, gaze burning into Alicent. Alicent can’t look away. She closes her lips around the cigarette in Rhaenyra’s fingers.

“Good,” Rhaenyra’s voice is low, and it feels like a fever-dream, how close she is, the warmth that radiates from her in the September air. Rhaenyra’s gaze sinks down Alicent’s throat, her chest, her skirt, stills where her stockings have ripped at her inner thigh. Without meaning to, Alicent spreads her legs a little wider, and watches how breath catches in Rhaenyra’s throat. The next moment, Rhaenyra steps in front of her, one hand on the wall behind Alicent, the other barely grazes against the hem of her jacket. Fingertips slowly drag over Alicent’s side, her hip bone, and as though hypnotised she watches Rhaenyra’s square elegant hand stroke down her skirt and then move inward until her fingertips slide beneath where the stockings have torn open. Her touch is hot on hotter skin. A gasp catches in Alicent’s throat.

Rhaenyra steps closer. Her breath fans over Alicent’s face. Her hand slowly grabs Alicent’s thigh.

A curse escapes Alicent.

Rhaenyra’s bright blue gaze, inescapable, a pull like the tide that drags young fishermen’s wives out to sea. Rhaenyra’s fingers spread under the stocking. It tears more. Alicent can’t think. Head tilted against the wall, feels her brows creasing, her heart hammering in her skull.

“You’re so hot,” Rhaenyra whispers. Rhaenyra’s hand glides upwards, confident, and rubs between Alicent’s thighs. A gasp escapes her. Rhaenyra rubs harder, and it feels so good that for a moment Alicent forgets all around her. It’s never felt this good before—- Heat surges through her. She can barely look at Rhaenyra, can’t believe she has her hand on her cunt in a back alley at night, a stranger— Rhaenyra’s thumb presses down on her clit, Rhaenyra’s breath on her mouth. God, she wants her.

“Kiss me,” Alicent says without meaning to.

A blush turns Rhaenyra’s cheeks pink. Alicent can’t believe it. Her fingers fist in Rhaenyra’s shirt and she yanks her in. Rhaenyra’s hot tongue presses into her mouth. Like a fever, she wishes she could feel Rhaenyra’s tongue in other places, too, gasps and whimpers into their kiss at the thought of it on her clit, inside her. A strong hand grabs the back of her knee, pulls her leg up until it rests around Rhaenyra’s hip.

Pain spikes through her lip when Rhaenyra bites it, her hot mouth dragging along her cheek to her neck and she sucks and bites at her skin there, too, will leave a mark like they are goddamn teenagers and where before it had made Alicent uncomfortable when men had pressed their teeth into her like this, she now feels a strange forbidden thrill.

A moan against her neck. Rhaenyra pushes herself closer, her fingers alternating between rubbing Alicent’s clit and lower, and with a shiver of shame, Alicent realises how fucking wet she’s gotten. As if reading her thoughts, Rhaenyra retrieves her hand, puts index- and middle finger to her lips where they leave a liquid sheen, and she sucks the wetness from them. The sight is almost too much. The blush on Rhaenyra’s cheeks deepens, her hand falls to Alicent’s hip.

“Can I finger you?” Rhaenyra’s voice is low and rough and shy all at once.

Words stick in Alicent’s throat. She just glares, lets out an embarrassing sound and nods, once, twice, and Rhaenyra’s kissing her again as her hand is slipping into her skirt. With shaking fingers, Alicent unbuttons it to allow Rhaenyra more movement. The next second, Rhaenyra’s fingertips are on her sweaty skin, down her stomach and all at once on her clit.

“Oh god,” Alicent gasps.

“Yeah,” Rhaenyra moans, moans from touching Alicent.

Thoughts meld, heat and want takes all. Rhaenyra’s palm presses against her clit. A finger slides against her wetness and slowly pushes inside her. Her other hand comes to cup Alicent’s breast, gently, almost reverently before she squeezes, thumb pressing against Alicent’s nipple. Tears prick at Alicent’s lashes. It feels too good. She should not be doing this. The finger inside her moves slowly.

“You can—” Alicent babbles, “You can put in more—”

“Fuck,” Rhaenyra growls, pushes her middle finger in as well and hotly, blissfully, her ring finger.

Alicent gasps, feels herself stretched around Rhaenyra’s fingers, Rhaenyra’s palm hard against her clit. She’s so full. Sweat beads on her forehead, under her arms, the back of her knee. She grinds herself against Rhaenyra’s fingers, the angle making them feel even bigger inside her.

“You’re so good,” Rhaenyra whispers into her ear, her voice roughened, almost desperate. Lips drag over her jaw to her mouth. “I want to fuck you so badly.” Rhaenyra is kissing her again, starting to thrust her fingers into her, pressing the heel of her palm into Alicent’s clit in a way that makes Alicent see red heat pulsate behind her eyelids. She moans into their kiss, hands grabbing Rhaenyra’s shirt, clutching her as close as she can, cannot think—

“I want to make you come,” Rhaenyra says and curls her fingers inside her.

Alicent bites her own lip until she can taste blood.

“More on my—on my clit,” Alicent gasps and Rhaenyra follows.

“Like that?”

“Yes,” Alicent moans, grabbing Rhaenyra’s hand to position it how she needs it, and she tilts her head back, sliver of black night sky above then pulsating dark as her eyes squeeze shut. Her mouth opens and suddenly a hand presses over it. Rhaenyra grins at her, ravenous, pupils blown, and it is both the look and the hand keeping her silent that drives Alicent to the brink. Rhaenyra’s fingers slip out of her and shove in roughly again, her thumb pressing to the side of her clit, rubbing circles into it. It builds inside Alicent, builds and builds and she is quaking around Rhaenyra’s fingers, moaning against Rhaenyra’s palm and she is coming. Tears blur her gaze.

She falls forward against Rhaenyra’s shoulder, breathing heavily.

For a moment neither of them moves.

Slowly, Rhaenyra slips her fingers out of Alicent. A soft kiss against Alicent’s cheek. Another.

“So good,” Rhaenyra says, breathless.

Hot wetness leaks from between Alicent’s thighs. She’s rarely been this wet. Rhaenyra’s made her—

Her chest heaves.

The back alley and the night reshape around them.

“Oh god…” Alicent gasps in horror, looking around, but Rhaenyra kisses her again, a soft and sweet kiss and Alicent cannot but kiss her back. Desperation mixes between them. The need to touch Rhaenyra crashes over her like a wave, but Rhaenyra catches her wrist when she moves her hand to Rhaenyra’s hip.

A grin stretches Rhaenyra’s lips. What might be rue glints in her eyes.

“Don’t have time,” she says. “Gotta get back.”

Cold cords up Alicent’s throat.

“Oh…”

Rhaenyra laughs shily, kisses her again. “But,” she intones, “I’d like to give you my number.”

Rhaenyra sucks her wet fingers into her mouth, eyes on Alicent. Alicent swallows hard, watches Rhaenyra suck her slickness from her fingers, imagines Rhaenyra’s mouth on her there—

Rhaenyra cocks an eyebrow.

“Well?”

“Y-yes.” With shaking fingers, Alicent fishes her phone out, unlocks it and hands it to Rhaenyra. Her heartbeat still pounds against her ribs. Rhaenyra types in her number, her first name, adds the dragon emoji next to it.

“Will you call me?” Rhaenyra hands the phone back, fingers sliding over Alicent’s when Alicent takes it. A soft noise escapes Alicent instead of a reply and once more she can feel heat push into her cheeks.

Rhaenyra pushes her back against the wall, gaze sweltering, dark.

“Promise it.”

“I do.” Alicent tilts her chin up and Rhaenyra kisses her, tongue slipping into Alicent’s mouth, shooting little sparks through Alicent’s whole body, wanting Rhaenyra again, wanting her more—

Rhaenyra steps back.

“We’re on tour for a month more, but I’ll be back in town after.” Rhaenyra grins. “Let me take you to…dinner.”

Alicent swallows.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Rhaenyra’s grin widens. She cards a hand through her short wet hair, then darts forward and kisses Alicent again before turning on her heel, opening the heavy metal door with an ease that makes Alicent’s knees weak and—and she is gone.

Alicent stares at the door, at her phone with Rhaenyra’s contact. A pling echoes in the street and a message pops up. Helaena.

MOM!! Where are u?

Alicent’s heart almost jumps out of her chest, she rights her clothes, checks her make-up in her Chanel powder-compact mirror, she looks awful, but no more so than the girls she passed on her way out.

Good god. Helaena must never know. Though perhaps if she knew Rhaenyra was her friend, she might look at Alicent with less embarrassment.

Yes, Alicent thinks with a hammering heart, wouldn’t it be nice if Rhaenyra were her friend?

She hurries back, clutching her phone to her chest, smiling not unlike one of the teenagers at the concert.

[codfanficedits]

Bar ideas - Ending two.

Summary:

You and Soap are getting drunk. Ending two, find the start of the story here

Pairing: Soap x fem!Reader, Gaz x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 544 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, closet sex, fingering, choking, praise, threesome.

“You’re too loud, Princess.” Soap grunts as he keeps slamming into you, the hand around your throat tightens.

The both of you stop when the door to Gaz’s room slams open and Gaz stumbles in. Your body tenses up as you panic. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Soap pulls out of you and you turn around, the panic visible on both of your faces. You start to pray, hoping that Gaz will go straight to bed and the two of you can sneak out. But God had left you, just as the courage of the tequila had done before.

Gaz swings his closet door open. “What the fuck.”

Soap tries to save the both of you. “Listen man, it really isn’t what it looks like.” His pleas are met by a chuckle from Gaz. “Oh, I think it is exactly what it looks like.”

When you finally make eye contact with Gaz, you can see that the look in his eyes changes, a primal hunger being shown in them. “I’m down if the two of you are down.”

His word make your body feel like it is on fire. You look over at Soap, the excitement in his eyes tells you enough, and your body isn’t fighting it either. You give Gaz a quick nod and in response he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Good girls use their words.”

You never thought of Soap and Gaz as more than just good friends, but those words made you feel things you didn’t know you could feel.

“Yes, yes I would like to take the both of you.” You mumble.

“That’s a good girl.” Gaz still holds your chin, while he looks at Soap. “You already have had that sweet little cunt, now it’s my turn. You can use her throat.” His voice is low, almost as a growl. But Soap doesn’t protest. They manhandle you and before you know it you’re on all fours, unable to think, only to please.

Soap is ruthless when he pushes his cock into your throat, leaving tears into your eyes as you try to take it all. Gaz grabs you by your hips, forcefully pushing his thick cock into you.

Your mind is hazy, all you can feel is two big men filling you up as they use you are their personal fleshlight, and you’re loving every second of it. Your hand makes its way to your clit, giving yourself just that extra little bit of pleasure, your eyes roll back as your orgasm comes over you.

The way you tighten yourself around both men is enough for them to send them over the edge. Soap is the first to come, his warm seed filling up your pretty mouth as he holds your hair to keep you in place. Gaz follows straight after, filling up your little cunt as she gives your ass a slap, leaving a red mark on your skin. Both men pull out of you, Soaps hand finding your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Show me you swallowed it all.” He commands, and you willingly stick out your tongue, proudly showing him how well you did.

“We’re going back to the bar tomorrow.” Gaz mentions. “Make sure to wear that skirt again.”

[offender42085]

Post 1302

Frankie E Bybee, Florida inmate S42207, born 1970, incarceration intake November 2017 at age 47, scheduled for release July 2025

Exploitation of Elderly or Disabled Person, Fraud Use of Personal Identification

In January 2021, a former Sarasota County deputy whose sentence was partly reversed was resentenced.

Frank Bybee appeared frail and visibly shaking as he entered court in a wheelchair. He made an emotional plea to Judge Donald H. Mason: “I want to apologize to Marcia Sohl. She should never have had to go through any of this, the court’s distress. I want to apologize to my profession. The Sheriff’s Office is top notch, one of the best in the state of Florida. I used to work with (Assistant State Attorney and prosecutor) Karen Fraivillig. I’m sure it was hard for her and personal to come after me. I apologize for what it’s done to my family and my marriage, my three boys.”

Assistant Public Defender Marc Gilman said Bybee has had two brain surgeries to remove a tumor the size of a grapefruit and a stroke since he was imprisoned in 2017 for crimes against the elderly.

The victim, Marcia Sohl, 82, a former New York City teacher, died in July 2019.

Despite arguments that his health was declining because of poor medical care in prison, Judge Mason resentenced Bybee to 10 years in prison for exploitation of the elderly and 10 years probation for three counts of computer crimes.

Bybee will receive credit for time served on seven counts of fraudulent use of identification information, and five years probation on a count of fraudulent use of identification information. 

"I'm happy the judge took his medical condition into consideration," Assistant Public Defender Marc Gilman said. "I'm happy he got a little time off his sentence. That shows sometimes things can work out in good ways. I understand he still needs to be punished. That's part of what the system is designed to do."

In November 2017, Bybee was sentenced to 15 years in prison for 13 felonies that included kidnapping, exploitation of elderly, three counts of computer fraud and eight counts of fraudulent use of information.

But in an opinion filed by Second District Appeals Judge Susan Rothstein-Youakim in May 2020, Bybee’s kidnapping conviction was reversed. Rothstein-Youakim said Bybee received ineffective assistance from his defense attorneys. Their failure to move for a judgment of acquittal when there were serious concerns about evidence is reviewable on appeal, the judge said.

The charges against Bybee arose out of his relationship with the then 79-year-old woman and covered a period of about three months. He was sent to her house Oct. 16, 2016, because she was threatening suicide. She was transported to the hospital and involuntarily committed under the Baker Act. Bybee stayed to pray with her, and they exchanged cell phone numbers.

The woman and Bybee began communicating regularly. Over the next few months, the deputy came to her house to do chores such as painting and minor repairs.

As the woman’s health began to decline, she was admitted to the hospital more than once and spent time in rehabilitation facilities, according to court documents.

By December 2016, their relationship had soured.

The woman called the Sheriff’s Office twice to complain about Bybee’s involvement in her life. The agency told him not to have further contact with her.

After interviewing the woman, the Sheriff’s Office opened an internal affairs investigation of Bybee to determine if he was engaging in an inappropriate relationship with someone with whom he had been involved in an official capacity, court documents stated.

Investigators found that Bybee repeatedly accessed the woman’s AOL account and emails, accessed her financial information, accessed her PayPal account and withdrew money using her debit card.

On Dec. 29, after Bybee was told to cease his contact with the woman, she was once again Baker Acted. While evidence exists that Bybee sent a message from the woman’s email account that set in motion law enforcement’s response to her home, deputies and medical staff at the hospital made the decision to Baker Act the woman based on their observations.

“Both the responding deputies and the hospital staff were statutorily authorized to make the determinations that they made,” Rothstein-Youakim wrote.

Assistant Public Defender Karen M. Kinney, who handled Bybee’s appeal, called state prosecutors’ assertions that there was kidnapping a refutable “theory.” However, Bybee’s counsel, John Lakin and Ronald Kurpiers, did not raise an issue with the charge at the right time, she said.

Fraivillig, who represented the state during Bybee’s trial in October 2017, wanted his sentence to remain the same at 15 years for four second-degree felonies. She said the original judgment was a “merciful sentence.”

Sarasota County Sheriff Tom Knight said at the original trial that Deputy Frankie Bybee had befriended the victim, a 79-year-old Sarasota woman, while responding to a service call.

Knight said when the woman entrusted Bybee -- an 18-year agency veteran and married father of three -- with her dog, whom the deputy sold the dog through Craigslist. The dog was reunited with the woman.

Knight said at the time, Bybee was placed on administrative leave after the deputy’s fingerprint was found on checks totaling $65,000 that the victim said had been fraudulently signed.

Bybee will need constant medical care and CT scans for the rest of his life.

4l

[marksbear]

"Fuck you Hargrove."

TOXIC BILLY HARGROVE X TOXIC MALE READER

  Warnings!  Cheating, being abusive, arguing, fighting, smoking and drinking, ANGST TO FLUFF, getting better, football and popular male readers

The both of you loved each other, but wasn't made for each other.

You and Billy were sitting at an empty lunch table in silence watching other students pass by yall. Some girls walking past yall giggling and blushing to one another pointing at you or Billy. Billy smirks and checks the girls out with no shame hiding it earning a death glare from you and a knee slap.

PAST

The two of you ruled the school. Always out shining King Steve and both of you sharing a mutual hatred for him. Billy was popular with the girls and bullies and you were popular with the mean girls and jocks. 

You both used to hate each other until in the locker room you two accidentally kissed. You had slipped on some water going forward and lips landed on Billy’s own. Billy had quickly pushed you away. The both of you just stared at each other like did that really happen. Billy grabs you by your hair pulling you down for a kiss. The two of you make-out for almost half the period only pulling away from each other when other people enter.

You two became official when it was after a party in the middle of the night rain pouring down on the two of you. You were taller than Billy so you wrapped your arm around his shoulders and walked him to the park. He was confused why were you taking him to the park but didn’t argue. Once you two were at the park you walked to a bench table, took your shirt off and lay down on the table.

“Cmon blue, lay down with me.” Billy was taken back by the nickname but takes his shirt off and lays down next to you. “Aren't they beautiful?” You ask pointing at the stars while the rain hits y'all's naked stomachs and chest. 

Billy doesn’t respond verbally just giving a little nod yes. “Billy…” Billy turns to look at you. The rain makes you look hot. Well that's what Billy thinks anyway. You cup one of his cheeks with your hand pulling him closer to your heads resting against each other.

“Be mine blue. I can change your life.”

Billy looks up into your eyes like are you serious look. You take note of the look and kiss him lovely and passionately. The two of you stay like that for a long time. Kissing each other and hugging. You two stay at the park for hours until you take his hand pulling him off the table with you walking in the dim streets. That moment was the best thing that ever happened to Billy.

Too bad that the both of you were a mess. 

After that night the two of you stayed with each other most of the time day and night, never apart from each other. Well one day you wanted to surprise Billy and with the help of Max you snuck in the house.

The parents of the two were gonna be gone all week so it was the perfect time to see your boyfriend. It was music blasting in his room which you didn’t mind and opened the door. “Hey Bill, oh…” Billy was on the bed fucking some chick from your school.

Billy quickly was about to shout get out thinking it was his annoying sister but freezes when he sees it's you. He quickly scrambles for his clothes telling the girl to get out and the girl rushes out of the room. You stare at him with anger and slap him across the face. “Fuck you Hargrove!” you spat.

And this time you punch him walking out of the room ignoring your boyfriend's pleas and prays for you to stay. You walk to max room and give her a quick thank you and bye before heading out the house. 

NOW

After that day You and Billy were still together. But this time the relationship have so much tension. The two of you mostly sitting in silence drinking or smoking. Never sparring the other a glance only when needed. Sometimes when you felt petty you’d kiss a guy or a girl in front of Billy. Yall two always fought each other.

Not even as a playful way I mean full out choking,punching and kicking each other. And the arguments were heated some even turning into hate sex. 

But the two of you weren’t always like this. When one another is having a bad day it's the non toxic side of you wanting to take care of him. When his dad gives him a hard day you’ll hug him and give him gentle kisses not sharing a word. While he crys onto you holding onto you for dear life. 

Another thing yall two do with each other is just going on dates. Like taking him to movies and bowling. Billy's favorite thing to do with each other is when you just walk around town sometimes driving to a new city before coming back home. Holding hands as the two walk around the town smoking and the few words yall say is “I love you bills.” or “Y/n I love ya.” 

It doesn’t matter how much the two of you argue and fight yall still care about each other. Helping each other fight. Yall even jumped Steve in the locker room. Walking each other to class not caring if anyone sees. He used to care about PDA until he realizes that he cares more about you than his reputation. 

He begins to stick up to his dad, showing off your relationship to his friends and family and not giving a damn. You two ultimately run away with each other after the both of you graduate getting the hell out of Hawkins when things get weird.  

When the two of you get older and go to college y'all get yalls relationship act together.

No more cheating, no more fights and especially no more arguing. The both of you do great in college with you getting a scholarship in football and Billy gets a scholarship to engineering. Both of you end up buying a house together and adopting a son. 

THE END.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

I hope you like this @asianbutnotjapanese

“Prosperity”

Pairings: Finrod (Findaráto) & Bëor

Prompts: “Unwilling Sacrifice" & "Ritual"

Rating: E

Themes: Dark    

Warnings: Human sacrifices | Bloodletting | Death 

Wordcount: 1.7K words

Summary: Bëor accompanies Finrod for the first sacrifice involving one of his own people.

Minors DNI | 18+ | Original image is from Unsplash

A/n: AU for Prosperity of Nargothrond and Bio for Faeldor, the headcanons and OC that came about because of this story, can be found here and here.  

“And this all came about by sheer happenstance, you say?” Bëor followed his elven friend as they walked deeper into the bowels of Nargothrond. He held his lamp aloft as they tread narrow, winding steps fashioned for the nimble feet of elves. “You did not know what would come to pass until the dwarf’s blood had seeped into the very roots of this city?”

“Indeed,” Findaráto said. He paid no heed to the shadows that took shape and danced along the walls and the engraved scenes that embellished them. They could not harm him or anyone else who was in his presence. “Three days after we performed the final rights, we struck good fortune and found veins of Mithril just beyond these very halls. I did not give it much thought, truly. Then, after a full turn of the moon, another dwarf was slain after he quarreled fiercely with one of his own and they came to blows. The one he quarreled with followed him not long after. The storm that plagued us for days and kept us confined behind the doors of the city died down, and our next battle with orcs succeeded even beyond our wildest imaginings.”

Bëor shivered when a cold breeze swept over the stairs toward them. He looked at the shadows. They reached out to him like thin, bony hands crawling out of the dark.

“Dwarves are diligent in their labors,” he said at length. “They can also be quite prideful and quick to anger.” Findaráto was not afraid, and he was determined not to, as well. He had little desire to show fear and disgrace himself in the presence of his companion. “I am not surprised to learn of those among their kindred quarreling and coming to dreadful blows even in a place like this.” The shadows slowly took other shapes. Bëor returned his thoughts to the present subject, thinking what he saw before were the figments of a ripe imagination, nothing more. “Did you become suspicious, my lord, after the third blessing?”

“I did,” Findaráto began, leading his companion through an open, arched doorway half again as tall as a Balrog. They stepped into a cavernous chamber with towering columns carved to look like ancient trees. Their leaves were edged with emeralds, and their flowers were gilded with gold. Bëor looked up at them, unable to comprehend the skill that went into their making. “And so did my council. But we could not put our assertion to the test by offering the blood of more dwarves. Their abrupt ends would have raised too many questions, and any plea for sacrifices would have caused us too many troubles. Besides, the dwarves are too faithful to the Great Smith; they would not agree to sacrifice their own in such a way. So, we decided to offer the living blood of orcs instead. They were unwilling sacrifices, to be sure, but it was better than us having to contend with the enraged Children of Aulë.”

“A wise choice, my lord, offering orcs instead of dwarves,” Bëor agreed, his curiosity aroused. His boots clicked as he walked over a floor hewn out of polished cavestone. “Pray tell me more about this being who demands blood in exchange for blessings. Will he reveal himself to me if you ask it of him?”

“Faeldor is a primordial being,” Findaráto revealed, halting. He turned to face the mortal, his eyes glinting with the light of one who had beheld the light of the Two Trees. “He was one of the many who emerged long before this world was even a dream in the thoughts of the one who wished to create it. But he does not appear to others unless he desires to, and I will not compel him to do so for you. The punishment that would fall upon our heads for such impertinence would be severe.”

Bëor nodded. “I understand all too well the consequences of angering those greater than myself.” His skin prickled. It was as if an unseen pair of eyes followed his every step. Nevertheless, he kept his gaze fixed on the elf ahead of him. He did not wish this divine being to take him as a coward. “Enough of such talk, my lord. Show me where the ritual will take place.”

Findaráto smiled and urged him to follow. They walked around the splendid columns, silent and respectful, until they reached a high altar in the center. It was hewn from the finest marble and adorned with ornate scrollwork of gold and silver inlay that created a mesmerizing display. Resting on top of it was a dagger crafted especially for such rituals, and beside it lay a young maiden garbed in robes of white. A golden circlet rested around her brow, and a crimson stripe ran around her eyes. It made her clear green eyes more vivid than before.

“Is she willing?” Findaráto whispered. “Does she do this with a free and willing heart?”

“She does, my lord.” Bëor gave his lamp for one of his attendants to take. He stepped over the candles arranged around the altar in a perfect circle and came to her. He rested his hand over hers. “Are you willing, my lady?”

“I am, my lord,” the maiden said without hesitation. She had prepared herself for this moment after Bëor spoke to his people about the bargain he struck with the elven lord of Nargothrond and the many promises made. The opportunity to engender the goodwill of the elves and, in turn, enjoy the same fabled prosperity they bathed in was not something they were ready to refuse. “I go to my death very willingly.” She looked at him with questioning eyes. “Will there be much pain?”

“There will be very little pain, my lady,” Findaráto promised. Edrahil came to him and relieved him of the lamp he carried. He returned to the others after that, for no one but his lord and the lord of the Edain could step over the circle of candles. “The dagger is sharp and the cut will be quick and clean. A moment is all that will take, then you will pass on to the world the One has prepared for your kind without torment.”

“Close your eyes, sweetling,” Bëor urged softly. He gave her hand a tender squeeze. “It will be over soon.”

She did as she was bid as elven and mortal attendants occupied themselves by lighting the candles. They were clothed in robes of white and crimson, and stripes of crimson paint ran around their eyes. It was a custom born after the first proper ritual, for it seemed the sight of them dressed in such a fashion pleased the divine being they offered living blood as a sacrifice. Findaráto joined Bëor within the circle, and the last candles were lit. He took the dagger left beside the maiden into his hands. Then he began to chant. 

It, too, was born after the first true sacrifice, a song that was both an invitation and a plea. It brought a sense of peace over those who had gathered and appeased the being that would soon feast upon the blood offered as tribute. Findaráto sang in the tongue of his kin, his voice seeping into the air the others breathed. They sang also, their voices forming an eerie and hypnotic spell full of power.

Bëor closed his eyes and swayed rhythmically, having discovered himself being swept away by silver and gold waves that pulled him further from the world of waking. He, too, began to sing, his voice joining the others in a sweet euphony that drew them into dreamlike states. They all raised their arms, imploring the one who watched over them to come to them, join them, and partake in the gift that would soon be offered.

Findaráto lifted the anointed blade into the air. He had acquired a taste for wielding it after bringing it down many times on many screaming orcs. There were no cries now, no animal-like shrieking that could have driven the most steadfast of minds to madness. All he heard was singing—the sweet singing of others, the worshipful singing of his own. With the Edain, he told himself, the elves would no longer have to endanger their lives seeking fresh offerings to ensure their continued wealth and protection. The trials of both kindreds were now at an end, and all it took was one chance meeting during a hunt.

“With the greatest humility,” he declared for all to hear, “we deliver this offering to you!”

The blade glittered even as it was dragged across a naked throat with skill and speed. Flesh parted around it with a soft, wet, tearing sound. Findaráto heard a strangled gasp, gurgled breaths, and the rattle of death spilling into the room. The sharp smell of copper followed it. He opened his eyes after taking a deep, steadying breath to compose himself, and drew back his blade.

“It is finished,” he pronounced and looked down on the maiden lying on the altar. Her cheeks and throat were now tainted with an ever-growing stain of deep red, and her eyes had clouded over like milk. Her final moment was near. “You have done so well, my lady,” he praised. “Our kindreds are forever grateful to you for your sacrifice. Go now. Be forever at peace.”

She smiled weakly and took her final breath even as her blood ceased to pulse out of her earthly vessel and into the little basin carved beneath the back of her neck. Her head rolled to the side after her soul departed her body.

“We must now leave,” Findaráto said. He cleaned his dagger with a square cloth of white silk he carried at his belt and returned it to its place by the maiden's side. “Faeldor prefers to sate himself without us bearing witness to it.”

“Is Lord Faeldor pleased with our offering? Will he agree to honor our agreement?” said Bëor. He trembled when, suddenly, a strange wind swept through the chamber and snuffed out the flames of the candles. The place abruptly grew darker because of it.  

“It will be honored,” Findaráto said. His head tilted to his left. It was as if he was listening to an unheard voice. “Now come. Our benefactor desires to feast. We must return to the chambers above us and feast also."

[hyerinrose]

Hello, can I make a request a soft yandere fic? I hope this isn't too specific. It's a Yandere Sorcerer OC x Princess reader.

In this scenario, a Princess is sleeping alone in her room, being forced in an arrange marriage she doesn't want to do. Suddenly, a mysterious Sorcerer OC appears in her room, and offers to take her away from her awful fate. She agrees, and the Sorcerer creates a magic bubble that engulfs her, and floats off with in the night.

Happily-Ever-After

《Soft Yandere! M Sorcerer X Princess! F Reader》

A/N : Thanks for the request anon! I do love me soft yan too so its rlly fun to write :D Your description helps me write this so dont worry it rlly helps :)

T/W : fluff content, yandere-ish, forced marriage, fem reader, praises, implied stalking, devoted yan, miserable princess reader, soft yan is best yan.

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The night were especially beautiful tonight, the twilight skies were decorated with millions of stars. The moon shined with an ethereal glow.

A pity that she couldn't basked in it's glory. Princess [Name] [Last Name] huddled herself under the thick blanket in an effort to comfort herself. Her [H/C] locks were sprawled on her pillow, crystal tears trickled from her glassy [E/C].

She couldn't bring herself to fall asleep after receiving the horrifiying news of her engagement to a foreign prince from another kingdom. [Name] was hurt by her parents' action, had they consulted her beforehand her reaction might have not be this bad.

'Who am I kidding, I'd still react like this even if I was made aware of their agreement sooner' [Name] thought to herself as another tear fell from her eye and staining the [F/C] silk bedsheet.

The princess was aware that no matter how many tears she shed, her fate has been set in stone. It shows from the king and queen sending her off to her quarters upon her outburst. No amount of begging and pleading will overturn her parents' decision.

Within a few moon, she'll be shipped off to god knows where to be wed to a man she had never met. [Name] silently prayed for fate to have mercy on her.

At last she finally fell asleep after tiring herself out from crying her heart out. She only wishes that her prayers were heard by the higher beings and grant her a way out of this marriage that was forced upon her.

Unbeknownst to her, someone did in fact heard her wishes. A person who were standing outside her open balcony, silently observing her sleeping figure.

"I'll come for you soon, Ma moitié"

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A sudden strong breeze flowed in her quarters, [Name] was semi-conscious and could hear the curtains beating against the walls along with a faint footsteps approaching her.

'Did I leave the balcony door open? I thought I had locked it earlier!' The princess panicked. Her hand clutched onto her blanket tightly as if it were her lifeline.

'Mary! Please help me! I'm sorry I didn't listened to you, I'm going to die now as a consequence of my action' She pleaded for her personal maid to save her.

[Name] freezes in place as the footsteps halted right beside her bed. She didn't know if it was the cold air or pure unbridled fear but she started shaking and were close to tearing up.

"Shh.. please don't be afraid, Ma moitié. I heard your cries of sorrow, I heard your plea for freedom and I shall be the one to save you" The voice spoked with tenderness and affection laced in it. It sounds masculined, princess [Name] assumed the person is a male.

"W-who are you? What do you seek from m-me?" She tried to sound brave but her facade fell through. It was supposed to sound threatening and commanding, a show sign of power as the princess of [Kingdom Name] yet she ended up sounding like a scared kitten, which she is.

"I am Luc Proulx, a mere sorcerer from your kingdom, my ladybird. I seek nothing more but to take you away from this unfortunate fate you had led" Luc spoke calmly, his voice was assuring and soothing her rattled soul.

Her [E/C] eventually flutered open and witness the man before her. He was dressed in a cloak-like robe with golden embroidery on it's sleeves, Luc's green irises glimmered even in the darken room. His red tuff of hair peeks from within the hood that sat atop of his head, a gentle smile plastered upon his lips.

"But.. Sir Luc, how are you going to take me away from here? Surely we'll be caught even if we hid in this kingdom" Princess [Name] asked, her brow knitting as she's in deep thought. A solemn expression paints her face when she hit a dead end.

"Please don't worry your pretty little head over it. Everything have been prepared, you needn't to stress yourself. Just leave it all to me" Luc assured [Name] and held up her [S/T] hand to place a tender kiss on it.

"Wh- y-you-" The princess was flustered by the action and fumbled to through her words.

"Will you take my hand, Ma moitié?" Luc asked as he let go of her hand. Oustretching his gloved ones towards her as Princess [Name] thought about her final decision.

Taking a deep breath, she nervously grasped onto Luc's hand. Her [E/C] glowed brightly in the night, 'she's truly a beauty' the sorcerer thought seemingly having fell for the princess all over again.

"Please, take me away to somewhere far away, Sir Luc"

The sorcerer pulled her up from her bed to standing on the floor with him and out to the open balcony. Luc plant multitude of kisses on their intertwined hand as he prepared his spell, muttering praises along the way.

"Thank you- thank you for trusting me, Ma moitié. I promise you that I shall cherish you and care for you for the rest of my life" He seems to be in a blissful state.

In a flash, they were engulfed in a magic bubble that was casted by Luc. Princess [Name] were impressed by it as she admired the scenery before her as they started to take off and float away.

"Sir Luc.. but why would you generously offered me this with nothing to have in return?" She finally asked the question that has been in her mind. It seems to good to be true.

"It's because I love you, Ma moitié. You may not be aware but I've been watching you from the very moment you piqued my interest. With each day of me observing you from afar, my love for you gradually grew. I wish nothing more than to protect you from this filthy world" Luc finishes his sentence with a gentle smile.

[Name] was taken aback by the confession, none had ever cared for her in the way Sir Luc seems to. She bit her lip, what are the odds that the gods did answer her prayer by sending Luc to rescue her.

"Thank you.. for everything, Sir Luc" She closed her eyes and finally fell into a deep slumber as they floats off into the night.

"Anything for you, Ma moitié. I'll do anything for you, rest now, love"

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[laurusik]

GOOSEBUMPS

Neteyam x Lo'ak x navi-fem reader

SUMMARY : You were in a relationship with both brothers having to follow all their drastic rules. What happens if you disobey?

SIDE NOTE: request are open so ask for anything

English is not my first language so don't stone me guys

WARNINGS: SMUT MDNI 18 + jealousy, possesivnes, threesome, oral (F receiving), a bit of binding, mentions of blood, edging

"I said I'm sorry" you sadly whimper, glistening eyes begging Lo'ak the release your neck from his unyielding grip. His pace is relentless dragging you by the nape of your neck to his hut. He doesn't respond to your pleas, his piercing stare putting you in your place instantly.

Lo'ak caught you flirting with another man, but what was more infuriating for him was the fact that you looked at him and shamelessly continued just to coax a reaction out of him.

You could feel his deadly lingering gaze burning holes into you back, yet you continued giggling and touching the man just so little but suggestively making his blood boil almost setting his body ablaze.

That's what got you in this situation in the first place. Your words getting the best of him only infuriating him more "Keep that mouth of your closed until I fucking tell you otherherwise" he hissed at you baring his fangs. The tension in the air almost suffocating making the quick trail feel like you're going for hours. Finally reaching his hut Lo'ak yanks you past the doorway sending your body stumbling to the ground.

Neteyams ears flickered at the sound of you entering, he stands up fom his place his amber orbs curiously watching the scene in front of him.

There is a look between the two brothers that makes your tail swish behind you anxiously watching them as they gaze at each other, their looks holding a message you're not privy to.

"What did she do this time" it was more of a statement than a question, your tail trashing against the wooden floor as your eyes skipped between the two brothers your body anticipating what's about the come.

"This little slut just can't keep her legs closed" Lo'ak almost growled out the answer his sharp teeth to full desplay"Go on tell him " His voice having the undertone of a smirk, your heart picked up it's pace the raspy tone of his voice making goosebumps appear all over your skin.

The silence was overpowering you didn't dare say a single word seeming like your lips are sewed shut. Neteyam just laughed at your behavior you looked like a deer stuck in the headlights trapped by the brothers completely at their mercy. There was no greater pleasure for you than taking all they desired like the good girl you were, falling apart at the slightest of their touch.

Lo'ak yanks you by the queue making you look at him glaring at you to concede before things get worse.

"I-I was flirting with someone" the uttered words being only a subtle whisper you prayed they wouldn't be able to hear. Your amber ayes averting Neteyams gaze your ears pinning back against your skull.

"What should we do with you pretty girl" Neteyams sighs out the words in a fond tone letting you be fooled be them.

"This needy pussy just needs a reminder who she belongs to" Lo'ak whispers against the shell of your ear his timber tone sending shivers down your spine, your stomach swirling with anticipation.

"I'm so sorry, I swear I will never do it again I'll be a good girl please" your desperate pleas hold no weight for the two brothers. Your doe eyes skip between them trying to lure remorse from them without any luck.

"You always say that dont you" Their words cold holding only lust in them, they're too far gone to be accepting your apologies now. There was no escape now you were trapped, and there never was especially when breaking their rules.

Neteyam sets his eyes on you and you instantly know what you need to do. With a pout on your face you untie your garments and discard them somewhere on the floor. Their amber lidded eyes making you feel vulnerable yet you can't get enough, their dark gazes making arousal pool in the pit of your stomach, carefully observing your every move.

Neteyam takes quick strides towards you capturing you in his arms and throwing you on the cot. Your body hits the plushy fur pellets with a loud thud. You don't even have time to register what just happened yet you instantly feel their hands on you moving you around to their desired position.

Your body freezes as you feel Lo'ak tying your hands to the headboard with a makeshift leather rope. He secures your wrist so tightly almost cutting of the circulation in them completely. You whine and trash yourself from side to side trying to flight the situation only angering them more making it eventually worse for yourself. Neteyam stops his silent deadly stare telling you all you need to know, he was trying to shut you up before he lost all his patience. You stopped trying to fight it, only whining and whimpering at the tight grip the straps had on your arms.

They circle around you slowly like vultures keening in on their prey. Lo'ak settled himself behind you and latched himself onto your neck biting the skin leaving purple marks everywhere he could reach. His sharp canines sunk themselves into the soft skin, you whimpered in pain, his tongue licking the blood dripping from the wound soothing the abused flesh. On the other hand Neteyam was placing open mouthed kisses on your thighs getting closer and closer to your dripping core.

You couldn't stand the pressure any longer you wanted to ease the throbbing of your pussy by squeezing your thighs but Neteyam held your legs open with a bruising grip not allowing you to move an inch. His hands groping every piece of flesh they could get on.

"Please Nete" You beg as huffs of air leave your mouth. Lo'ak pinches your nipple latching off of your neck with a pop his breathing raggedy "I thought you wanted this, throwing yourself at a man" he huffs out and keeps on twisting your sore nipples, the pain rippling along your skin with a familiarity you dread. There is a thin line between agony and bliss at this point.

Tears well behind your amber eyes, as Lo'ak takes random pauses between his abuse to rub and appreciate the red and flush peaks.

Neteyam unexpectadly sucks at your clit making you wreath and squirm underneath him. His hands keep you in place without struggle. The movements of his tongue sending white hot pleasure thru out your entire body making your vision blurry. He runs his finger along your soaked folds stopping right on your enterace. You try to wessel your way down to push his finger inside you but fail miserably.

"Please - please Nete I will do anything!" you wince as tears leave your eyes, your fucked out state leaving the brothers roaring in laughter. A gleeful smile spreads along his lips. He doesn't say anything as he leans forward and captures your lips in a heated kiss.

His finger rubbing slow circles around your enterance and coming up to your clit. Your moans are greedyli swallowed by his kiss. He expertly rubs your clit the squelching sounds and heavy breathing fills the room.

Your legs are shaking from the amount of stimulation from his fingers, you can only scantily breathe with Neteyam exploring every corner of your mouth laisurely, ocassionaly biting your bottom lip. Lo'aks fingers rub soothing circles onto your sweat covered chest. The pleasure becomes dizzying with every stroke of his fingers inside your folds.

Neteyam continues the assault on the sensitive bud slipping a finger inside you. The combined pleasure enough to push you over the edge. You scream out their names the pleasure so overwhelming it makes you see stars like the world around you is spinning in circles.

Lo'ak slapps you across the face just as your eyes were starting to close "Come on baby wake up, can't have you passing out now can we?"

Okay tell me how I did please +if you want a part 2

I hope you enjoyed and also I didnt proofread again so... sorry for that :3

@tiredmamaissy I hope I didn't disappoint you with this Issy <33

[beezleberry-breakie]

Gods and Monsters

James x reader

Warning: religious stuff (its more pagan than anything else), mentions of sexual assault, blood sacrifice, and cutting

xx Your kingdom had been in a pointless war with their northern brethren over some silly royal bullshit for years now. One is which you had lost everyone in your immediate family but your mother. After so many years of seeing nothing but bloodshed and having to mend the endless number of soldiers who cried for aid on your doorstep. Enough had been enough.

xx You began to research about the Gods of old. Stifiling through the old tomes within your home, whose pages had long since yellowed. Though no man in your kingdom had prayed to these gods for centauries. You knew these gods had no quarrel with entertaining mortal's prayers. They were ones' who were willing to take sacrifices to end any problem that was presented before them.

xx There were many tales of four Gods that soon surfaced in your findings. One whose vanity brought all in the kingdom to their knees. Another who could predict and send waves of death just from their fingertips. The third whose own presence cultivated sickness, each footstep rendering all around in bounds of pestilence. And the fourth. The fourth whose name was hailed as a god of war. Who once called upon could destroy nations. This one was who you decided to pray to.

xx Day after day, every morning and night you had prayed to this god. Offering goblets of your own blood to quench his dry throat. Begging that whatever you have would be his. Yet as the weeks passed, you received no reply, and each week the battles of war had waged closer and closer to your home. You refused to give up. Even when the long toiling from the days of tending to soldiers' wounds had rendered you sleepless. Even when the blood sacrifice had left you sluggish, sick, with scars littering your thighs. You knew that this god of old would hear you. He had to.

xx Time passed into months before the war had finally made it to your door step. The sounds of gurgling screams and metal slicing into skin echoing through the air. Soldiers within your home, scrambled from off their sick beds to seek shelter. To seek safety. They never made it far. You and your mother were captured. Now prisoners of war. Dragged to the enemy's general who deemed your knowledge of healing could be used to satisfy his own army.

xx There were days you both attended to the sick, but then there were days your mother had warmed soldiers' bed in order to preserve your own purity. In those nights, you prayed harder to your god of war. Tears falling as you heard the sounds of your mother forcefully satisfying the cruel soldiers in the camp. It never enough. Soon the appetite for one to satisfy all had grown tedious. Boring. Old. You were now in their sights. When they had dragged you from the medical tent, you screamed, cried, and fought only to be struck in the chest or stomach. It was all a sick joke as many of the soldiers laughed, chanting, taunting, and even pinning your crying mother to the earth, forcing her to watch what was about to befall.

xx One solider in particular had claimed you for first lay. His legs straddling over your lap, his hands ripping your clothes down to undergarments. A cruel bolstering laugh leaving his lips as he saw the scars on your thighs. "I hear you every night little mouse", he leaned forward, his all too warm hands pinning your trembling wrists above your head. "Your gods have abandoned you long ago. I am your god now".

xx Prayers fell from your lips as the loud jeers from the soldiers circled your form. Your eyes pinched in horror while you felt you oppressor pull your legs apart positioning himself to finally take you. There was no going back, your gods had long deafened themselves to your pleas.

xx "Please. Save me" a final whispered cry. Then

S I L E N C E

No sounds. The soldiers had seemingly disappeared. All that now surrounded you was blackness that rivaled even the night sky. Every whimper and cry you produced was swallowed by the darkening void, as if something was trying hard to muffle the noise. Had you ascended yourself to a plane of non existence as to rid yourself of what was happening to you? Or had you truly died during the brutal act? You sobbed harder.

Xx “Enough, my little lamb”, a soft touch to your cheek. You flinched against the hold, tears burning hotter as they flowed down your cheeks. A sigh. This voice…did not belong to the solider who was forcing to bed you. No. This voice vibrated the very scene around you, dark and grained like the the burning of a wheat field in the dead of night. You choked a sob, but the voice demanded silence. “No one will hurt you again little lamb”. Though you had refused to open your eyes; you could almost see the warmth that had wrapped around you, cradled your head, and spread through you body like fire. The feelings was almost sickeningly nauseating, like death had just brushed by. Yet, your exhausted form had welcomed it. Your arms circling around the warmth’s neck, face resting against its shoulder. “Please”, another plea, this one answered by a soft kiss to your forehead before a deep chuckle echoed into the void. “Only for you”.

GRAAAAAAWRRRR. Another one that I started a month ago and can’t finish but want to D:. Where has my inspo gooooooooooone. Anywaaaay this was suppose to be a gods/demon fic about James, Max, Xavier, and Seth. They were suppose to be said beings that reader prayed to for whatever reason selfish or not…may come back to this later as I have a constant hardon for all things supernatural. Sigh….obviously not hard enuff for this one but that maybe the burnout talking.

I do not own James, Max, Seth, Xavier, or the VN Bloodlust Devotion. They are @hotpinkmoon s babies

[madmilez]

What fate can't touch

I think I've always noticed

Yet I've only recently acknowledged

I tend to be quite skeptical

To the point it's almost comical

If only it weren't experience

That's led me to exist like this

But alas, paranoia is ingrained

Expect the worst it's easier to take

The constant pain and

Disappointment every day

Anyway,

What I'm trying to say is,

It was a welcome change

No, it surely was, what am I saying?

If truth be told, and it will be

You came in from nowhere and s a v e d me

Don't think this is lost on me

I am aware of the severity

Before your love my life was a b l u r

And I know I have what I don't deserve

I want to be so much more than this

I want you to get more than you give

I'll never know what made you pick me

You found me at a point in time

I'd done so much damage to my life

I do not think it could ever be undone

Now I must live with constant anxiety

Like a shadow always hanging over me

Each precious moment that we share

A noxious poison fills the air

Looming over my head to remind me

That this could be the last time I see

The one aspect of my life unbroken

The only drive that keeps me going

I hear a clock ticking away our time

Not knowing is warping my damaged mind

The sweetest moments made for savoring

Tainted by their prospective ending

Surely a solution exists somewhere

Yet if it did, could we dare

To think it be a thing attainable

My weakness binds us, our future unstable

If I ever were to pray a prayer

One desperate lament to the air

I would speak but a pair of lines

A request, a plea the only desire of mine

Heal me that I might become better

Erase my past so we can be together

I'll be completely candid here

I'd settle for even a couple years

A fraction of what I had hoped for

Yet likely more than I deserve

Just a tiny fragment of time

My hand in yours, yours in mine

No dark cloud over head

Past ghosts all laid to rest

Just a little piece of this life

I'd give you every second of time

I dont know what fate has planned for us

But whatever it does

Wherever we end up

Just know, you will always be my one true love

[neomedievalist]

I posted 14,050 times in 2022

That's 2,320 more posts than 2021!

1,587 posts created (11%)

12,463 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@smt1

@transvamp

@p2ep

@headworld

@mansematu

I tagged 4,867 of my posts in 2022

#data - 1,021 posts

#img - 149 posts

#smtiv - 110 posts

#fav - 90 posts

#text - 38 posts

#prev - 37 posts

#audio - 33 posts

#sleepycore - 23 posts

#smt - 22 posts

#aitsf spoilers - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#obviously it’s good to be careful about these things but did you read where in the article low income people are disproportionately affected

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i hope every prof who says ‘no late penalty no extensions if its not in on the due date you get a 0′ gets actually killed and eaten by demons

1,854 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

#4

GET FUCKING ARJUNA’D IDIOT

See the full post

1,948 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

#3

ok i made the . splatoon cookies from that post *WARNING. THIS SHIT TAKES SO FUCKING LONG. GOOD LORD.* PUTTING THEM in the oven now pleas e pray for me that they look good after they’re baked

7,549 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

#2

See the full post

13,093 notes - Posted September 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

119,682 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ausetkmt]

The debate about race following the killing of George Floyd has reverberated across the Atlantic Ocean, spurring the tourism minister of Ghana to appeal to its diaspora, including in the U.S., to "leave where you are not wanted," and return home.

A ceremony marking the death of Floyd was held at the W. E. B. Du Bois Memorial Centre for Pan-African Culture in the capital Accra during which Barbara Oteng Gyasi made the plea that her country is open to those fleeing racial tensions.

"We gather in solidarity with brothers and sisters to change the status quo. Racism must end. We pray and hope that George Floyd's death will not be in vain but will bring an end to prejudice and racial discrimination across the world," Oteng Gyasi said, according to Ghana Web.

"We continue to open our arms and invite all our brothers and sisters home. Ghana is your home. Africa is your home. We have our arms wide open ready to welcome you home.

"Please take advantage, come home, build a life in Ghana. You do not have to stay where you are not wanted forever, you have a choice and Africa is waiting for you," Oteng Gyasi added after a wreath-laying ceremony last Friday.

The economy got a boost as people flocked to the country for a number of cultural events, such as the music festival AfroChella, to mark the anniversary.

The government in Accra is building on that momentum with another initiative called "Beyond the Return" which aims to encourage investment in Ghana.

"We feel that given the wealth that African Americans and black Americans have, given that spending power, travel budgets of blacks in America, we felt that it's about time that we start that conversation that, instead of moving to any other destination, come back to where you came from," Akwasi Agyeman, CEO of Ghana's Tourism Authority, told NBC this week.

There was a sartorial and cultural connection between the heart of U.S. politics and Ghana this week as Democrats proposed legislation to reform the police in the wake of Floyd's death.

Lawmakers including House Speaker Nancy Pelosi wore scarves made from a cloth of colorful geometric Ghanaian designs called kente which had been given to them by the Congressional Black Caucus.

"The significance of the kente cloth is our African heritage and for those of you without that heritage who are acting in solidarity," Karen Bass, chairwoman of the Congressional Black Caucus, said, according to the BBC.

Meanwhile, the appeal by the Ghanaian government to its diaspora from across the Atlantic Ocean is likely to get stronger.

Lakeshia Marie Ford started coming to Ghana in 2008 as part of a study abroad program through her alma mater, Spelman College in Atlanta, Georgia. She has lived in the country permanently for five years and is founder of the Accra-based public relations company Ford Communications.

"In terms of identity, I felt freer in Ghana. As a Jamaican-American woman, there were so many cultural similarities," she told Newsweek.

"Having that foundation as a 20-something year old allowed me to pay attention to the environment and look at how I can add value to the space, as opposed to fighting racism, as I would probably be doing in the United States."

Attracted by a fast-pace emerging economy, she said that people can bring to life dynamic ideas a lot quicker in Ghana than in the United States.

"An emerging market needs a range of skills," she said, which meant, "you can find a space for yourself regardless of the level you are at, and still make an impact."

"Africa has always been the future, and our predecessors know that well. For my generation, if we in fact answer the call to explore achieving our dreams in Africa, specifically Ghana in this case, Ghana will experience a brain gain.

"Having black people in the diaspora come to Ghana is the dream. I think it's important to also develop structures and capacities in the country to support the call.

"That effort could also include socially sensitizing Ghanaian citizens so that everyone is radically focused on the bigger picture of the commonality between Africans and African diasporans and the effort to achieve true sustainable socio-economic development for Ghana and black people who would be new residents," Ford told Newsweek.

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

Before you embark to West Africa looking for a new home, a lil advice:

study the area you are interested in returning to

do your dna testing with a dna test agency that has African Aliels such as https://africanancestry.com/

SAVE SAVE SAVE - money shrinks when you travel so take as much as you can because you don't know what may catch your eye

Make a few friends in your chosen destination and learn more about the local culture so that when you visit you're more aware of your surroundings and possibilities - this helps you to not be a victim. travel scams in Africa do happen just like everywhere else.

Check all the Visa Requirements, make sure your passport is valid for at least a year post travel to prevent any problems with visas.

Check with your local Travel Health Clinic to be sure of what meds you may need before departure, as well as what you may need to take with you in case of need. Lariam is a common med that is used for Malaria and usually taken as it's more difficult to get once you are there

Take a copy of all your travel documents, on your phone; as well as photocopies; and email a safety copy in the event of need

Don't Use Air BnB because they are horrible and poorly managed in Africa. stick to a traditional hotel for both comfort and safety.

Plan your trip knowing it will be wonderful and you will be making the journey of a lifetime. Travel with a heart full of gratitude and wonder because You are Going Home, hopefully.

Questions on Travel to the Tropics or Africa - Hit Me Up and I'll give you my experience and help with your planning. Just message me here on Tumblr and I'll hit you right back

Remember This is The mindset of an explorer so get out there and find yourself an adventure