#red wine rose ( mary. )

[vurd-ed]

Lord Maris Nigh

☾✧☾ - ☾✧☾ - ☾✧☾

OC stimboard!

[rosemaze-reveries]

― enclosed with love

spending valentine's day with you eli, mary, michiko, naib, norton, percy, philippe

i adored this year's vday café designs so i wrote some hcs for them ^^

⚠️ modern AU

♡ Mary

With a delicate and highly sophisticated palate, Mary is always searching for something new to satisfy her. For Valentine's Day, she books a private tour at a high-end champagne house.

Her driver is scheduled to pick you up in the early afternoon. She arranged your date so “late” to give herself ample time to settle on an outfit. Her room is littered with hat boxes and empty hangers and piles of ‘maybes’. Everything must be perfect for you. But, every second without you feeds into her restlessness, and she ends up calling you to fill the time. Hours go by on the phone & she still refuses to hang up until she pulls outside your residence.

When she first greets you from the backseat of her car, her hands are on you immediately. She smoothes out the collar of your jacket and peppers a couple of warm kisses all across your face, somehow never quite landing on your lips. She quickly dabs away all the lipstick stamps she left with her handkerchief and apologizes for being so forward,,, only to end up doing it again.

Mary takes high pride in her outfits and never compromises on looking classy. But somewhere in the back of your head, you think: All white? To a wine tasting? What if she gets red stains on her dress? From anyone else, this comment would insult her ― she doesn't take kindly to the insinuation that she's a klutz. Coming from you, she laughs it off saying she's always looked better in red anyway.

She waits until arriving for your tour to present her gifts. Mary gives VERY generously. There's an entire table prepared for you. Mountains of roses, desserts, tickets to that trip you've always wanted to take, luxury spa packages -- she has everything.

♡ Norton

This Valentine's Day is the first Norton will be spending with someone. He'll act like he's not that invested in it, that he's just indulging you.

He keeps up a haughty smirk when you first meet for your date. You had a love letter delivered to him that morning, and he's 100% taking the opportunity to tease you about it. You wrote some pretty embarrassing things about him. How's the real deal living up to your expectations? Dying to bring some of those thoughts to life already? Unfortunately, you insisted on having a traditional date for Valentine's, so you'll have to keep yourself in check until tonight. ← He knows he makes you crazy & he loves having that effect on you.

He gives you chocolates as a gift. They're clearly homemade, shaped like rocks of various sizes with a little gold-dusted heart hidden among them. But just in case you wouldn't be able to recognize them as rocks, he also provided a little toothpick "pickaxe."

Presenting something homemade is a little embarrassing, even if he hides it with that big grin of his. He gives your present a little too fast before switching back to teasing you again.

♡ Philippe

As a perfectionist, Philippe starts planning for Valentine's Day very early. He experiments with all sorts of gift ideas. You're not sure what's going through his head, but he has a highly specific vision and won't rest until he achieves it. He seems to find it important that he gives you something handmade.

Matching photo lockets? A decoden case (if you're into fun phone cases)? Not meaningful enough. A flower vase modeled after his own hand, to sit on your desk? Too tacky. A wax figure? Maybe, but that's too predictable on its own. Maybe he should learn guitar to serenade you.

His final choice is ambitious, but Philippe always is. He builds a little table out of resin, and preserved inside it are your favorite flowers, with detailed wax figurines of you and him dancing among them. It sits in a corner of his favorite room, where he often does dance with you ♡

On the day itself, Philippe would prefer to stay home. It's one of the rare times he gets to have you to himself free of work constraints.

He's the type that always needs to be doing something with his hands. He'd enjoy making chocolate sculptures together -- it's a cute idea, he thinks, to watch you make something so passionately. Whatever your skill level, he loves anything you make.

In the evening, he'll take over all the cooking. A quiet night with steak and good wine (or your preferred drink) is a little cliche, but you both deserve it. Plus, he loves nothing more than casually chatting with you while he works in the kitchen.

♡ Naib

Naib isn't really into the idea of Valentine's Day. He might not even realize it's coming up unless you tell him about it. You'd have to be explicit that you're looking forward to spending the day with him, and even then, he's totally unprepared.

Gifts have never been his forte. Neither have grand romantic gestures. But he's good at working his pragmatic side into the little things: so rather than push himself to be this lovey-dovey, chocolates-and-roses type of lover for the day, he focuses on being 'present' for you.

He brings you breakfast in bed. He's a mean cook, and knows all your favorites. Everything he makes tastes like home, warm and full of love.

Most couples give each other flowers, he knows that, so he goes shopping for one. You're surprised when he presents you with a bouquet of lemons. In his mind, they're cool and refreshing like you, everyone could find a use for some lemons, and personally he finds the colors to be appealing. It doesn't occur to him that lemon bouquets might be an unusual thing to give.

He relies on you to direct the date. Whatever you say, he'll agree. In public, he never leans in for kisses but wouldn't oppose yours. You can try to stand closer to him & he'll slink an arm around your waist briefly, as if to reassure you that he'll always have a secure hold on you, but he'll pull away again before long.

♡ Percy

In spite of all of his eccentricities, Percy is surprisingly traditional when it comes to romance. He invites you to a nice dinner date & arrives much earlier than you, waiting with a bouquet and chocolates. When he first sees you, he wraps a secure arm around your shoulders to tenderly kiss your forehead.

Getting to see this side of him is the payoff of building such a deep relationship with him. Percy is a difficult person to get through. He's obsessive to a fault and cloisters himself away in his studio for days at a time ― no one else would have been able to breach his heart like you have. He will take proper measures to express your importance to him.

His first real kiss leaves tiny particles of something on your lips, but they're sweet in taste. He laughs at the startled look on your face and reassures you it was just a sugar cube. At first he says he was just fishing for a reaction, but later confesses: he was afraid the lips of an undead man might have an odd taste, so he crunched a sugar cube to sweeten it.

♡ Eli

Eli spends the morning delivering roses to other couples on his bicycle. People tend to get especially flattered when their flowers arrive via owl, so his services are very popular this time of year.

He enjoys the little bouts of happiness he can bring to others, but of course you are the one he wants to spend this day with most. With every bouquet he delivers, his mind wanders to you, imagining your reaction when he finally gets to deliver his gift.

He asks you to meet him at an ice cream parlor when his shift is done, around noon. Before you even see him, Brooke Rose flies over to tuck a thornless rose behind your ear, and you turn to find Eli already waiting at a table.

He gives you a small homemade cake and a letter he won't let you read until he's gone. He's a pretty sappy guy even in person, so you aren't sure how his letter will be much different. But having something to be excited about, even after you have to say goodbye, makes it worth it.

His bike rides have left very familiar with all the best spots around town. After splitting ice cream, he takes you for a ride to all the little places he thinks you'll love. A flower meadow, a bridge with a superstition attached: if you whisper the name of your love while crossing it, you'll be bound for life. Part of you suspects he made that up, but the way he says your name over and over makes your heart skip a beat.

Once the sun goes down, he brings you to a forest. Somehow he manages to time it just right. He gestures for you to stay very quiet, gently takes your hands, and suddenly you're encircled by hundreds of fireflies.

♡ Michiko

Since losing her ex-husband, Valentine's Day has become a bitter thing for Michiko, especially since it's so close to their anniversary. She has treated it as a day of mourning for some years. Of course, she keeps up a smile for you ― it's not in her character to impose her struggles on others.

The morning goes by slowly and comfortably. You wake up to a gentle massage and the smell of fresh baked pastries. She writes you a sweet letter in her neat script, and she adorns her letter with pressed flowers & a mini bouquet of your favorite candy.

She makes sure to get you a proper gift, too. She follows a rule of getting 1 indulgent and 1 practical thing: a box of luxury chocolates alongside a fine new coat.

Her ideal date would be something intimate and relaxing. Maybe the theatre, in a box reserved for two, or a shaded flower garden where you can enjoy a cup of tea.

[museenkuss]

Marie Museenkuss Advent Calendar

For this advent season, I've prepared a selection of little treats - recipes, things to read or things to watch that I enjoy (or wrote) and am excited to share with you over the next few days. Each day, I'll 'open' another door to reveal the treat. I hope we can celebrate and have fun together!

[💎] To start, a cosy Christmas crime classic: Hercule Poirot's Christmas

[🦊] One of my all-time favourite fairy tales, Allerleirauh, can be read on this website! If you'd like to turn pages and see an illustration or two, you can also read it in the Green Fairy Book via archive.org, but beware - that version is censored!

[🪞] An all-time classic of a different kind, maybe just in time now that the New Year is slowly seeping in: Joan Didion's Essay "On Self Respect"

[💌] Feelings inspired to write? I’ve got some shimmering, cool, delicate december prompts ready for you!

[🗝️] In the spirit of the censored Allerleirauh: Read my thoughts on death, mutilation and the gruesome in fairy tales

[👢] On the morning of the sixth, German children will find little treats in their boots that Nikolaus left for them the night before. Let's use some of them (apples, marzipan(optional), nuts) to make a traditional German christmas treat - the Bratapfel. Rezept. Authentic English recipe.

[🏮] Let's take a virtual trip to the Tate and look at Sargent's Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose in two short videos that focus on description and technique!

[✨] The nostalgic excitement of entering a theatre and watching the other guests before the show - Chanel's A/W 2024/25 Haute Couture Show blends Opera and High Fashion.

[☕️] Today (very appropriate for the temperature drop), we're learning how to make French hot chocolate: [written recipe] [video]

[🦢] Do you have an hour to spare? Enjoy this charming little volume on perfume from 1928, a love letter to fragrance filled with anecdotes from all over the world and illustrated by the wonderful George Barbier: The romance of perfume by Richard Le Gallienne

[🌹] A Renaissance princess and her baroque prince... Here's a magical performance of Sleeping Beauty by the Bolshoi Ballet

[12] 🎪

[🍰 ] With eleven days left, there's still more than enough time to make the Fortnum&Mason Christmas Cake in time for Christmas! [the official F&M christmas cookbook has a very similar recipe for a fruit cake, but without the soaking and with a layer of fondant on top. let me know if you'd be interested in that, I'll post a pic]

[💋] today, let’s read one of my favourite sensual poems for winter: Francis Jammes — Tu Seras Nu (You will be nude), translated by Kenneth Rexroth

[🖋] This sunday, let's write! Or, alternatively: Let's daydream! Here are some brand new prompts for inspiration.

[🎞️] In the spirit of daydreaming: You and I by Papooz, Weak for your Love by Thee Sacred Souls, Mystery by Raveena are three extremely different but visually stunning music videos to songs I absolutely adore. To start this week, take a little moment to watch and listen, dream and dance.

[🍷] Easy poached pears in red wine with vanilla - a gorgeous, ruby-coloured dessert. I've made (regular) poached pears before and they are just as easy as this title suggests. But I'm SO eager to try (and share <3) this variant!

[18] 🎠

[🐻] After a long, tiring day of Christmas shopping (or Christmas stress), let's relax with a whimsical film! Panna a netvor (Beauty And The Beast) from 1978 <3

[💫] Imagine a zine, except more whimsical and more complicated - today, we're learning how to make a Victorian Puzzle Purse! They're so pretty, perfect add-ons for a christmas gift - or adorable presents in their own right.

[🩰] I feel like Christmas is the time where we can truly reconnect to the magic of childhood. So today, let's put on our (imaginary) ballet slippers and do a little 5-min Nutcracker ballet choreo in our living room! Whether we're dancers or not honestly doesn't matter - nobody is watching us, this is all about enjoying the fantasy of a snow-sparkling night. We're playing pretend! And if you'd rather improvise to something more dramatic, I used to whirl around to Borodin's Polovtsian Dances.

[🕰️] During this cold, dark evening, I present to you one of my favourite poems, caught between romanticism and irony: Heine's Old Chimney Piece (in translation).

[🎟️] About a year ago, Joel Haver made a video looking back on 4 years of uploading weekly short films. It's one of my favourite videos, visually, in its tone and regarding its message, and I feel now that the year is coming to a close, it might be a really inspiring watch: it's been fun.

[🎄] I wish I could invite you all over to show you the illustrated edition of E.T.A. Hoffmann's Nutcracker that my parents gifted me in 2001. Instead, I offer you a very nice translation: Nutcracker and the King of Mice - and, if you're the audiobook type, I found a good translation with Tchaikovsky's music here. The story is haunting, delicate, glittering, unheimlich. It starts on Christmas Day and infuses the following days and nights with magic. It was such a joy to share this Advent Calendar with you and I hope that with this, I can share some of my Christmas festivities with you, too, since they're so entwined with this story (and since the first chapters also somewhat accurately depict how I celebrate Christmas, too - on the evening of the 24th, after decorating the tree). Lots and lots of Love, darlings! I hope you have a magical day, a magical evening, and a very Merry Christmas!

[diamondmeadow]

Spurred by a conversations with @constellations91 . Marauders and co. drinking HCs!

Remus likes gin.

Sirius and Dorcas like whiskey.

James likes beer.

Peter can’t drink much of anything.

Regulus likes red wine.

Lily likes rose wine.

Marlene likes cider.

Mary likes cocktails.

What about the rest of them? I wanna hear your ideas!!!

[novvabee]

Band!au albums

so... the next part is going to jump ahead in time and all three bands have albums and are touring and yeah i am really excited. but, i wanted to like establish what they would be singing or playing so here are the 'albums' lol.

HUGE shoutout to @notapoetjustscar because she gave me so much inspo and she made a playlist so go listen to that!💗💗anyways...

The Pixies- Heard You Like Magic

Red Wine Supernova (Chappell Roan)

Juno (Sabrina Carpenter)

Pink Pony Club (Chappell Roan)

Bed Chem (Sabrina Carpenter)

Taste (Sabrina Carpenter)

Love Is Embarrassing (Olivia Rodrigo)

Obsessed (Olivia Rodrigo)

HOTTOGO (Chappell Roan)

Lacy (Olivia Rodrigo)

Please Please Please (Sabrina Carpenter)

Logical (Olivia Rodrigo)

Man (quinne)

One of Your Girls (Troye Sivan)

All-American Bitch (Olivia Rodrigo)

so for the girls, I think all of these songs just work lol. I can picture the crowd doing the HOTTOGO dance and its just so cute. I also have it in my head that Lacy was written by Mary or reader because Lily is just so perfect and pretty and have y'all ever had a friend like that? who is just so pretty you hate them? yeah so I feel like the girls would write it about Lily but then change it to Lacy. Also, All-American Bitch, I can see all the girls screaming to and that is just such a funny picture in my head.

The Marauders- The Sun, The Star, And The Moon

Meddle About (Chase Atlantic)

Back to Black (Amy Winehouse)

Only Angel (Harry Styles)

Medicine (Harry Styles)

Baby Said (Maneskin)

Supermodel (Maneskin)

Bourgeoisieses (Conan Gray)

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High (Arctic Monkeys)

Do I Wanna Know (Arctic Monkeys)

The Color Violet (Tory Lanez)

Call Me (Blondie)

Daydreaming (Harry Styles)

All these songsi can just see Sirius and James singing omg. Bourgeoisieses is also so funny cause... they are Sirius and James... and then The Color Violet, i just have a specific piture in my mind of Sirius like wearing sunglasses and walking/dancing around stage. Also Back to Black cause Sirius finds a double meaning in it and it is funny.

The Snakes- Purebloods

I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys)

Daddy Issues (The Neighborhood)

A Little Death (The Neighborhood)

Video Games (Lana Del Rey)

Cinnamon Girl(Lana Del Rey)

Softcore (The Neighborhood)

Friends (Chase Atlantic)

She (Harry Styles)

I See Red (Everybody Loves An Outlaw)

Reflections (The Neighborhood)

Family Line (Conan Gray)

Alley Rose (Conan Gray)

So the album name is purebloods lmao... all of these are like angsty and idk they fit Regulus so well and trust me Family Line sung by Regulus, i will cry no joke. also Friends is perfects cause like "all of your friends have been here for too long"... like come on that is obviously about James lmao.

Anyways sorry this isn't really a part of the fic but here is just a little something until I can write the next part 💗 hope you all agree

Taglist 💌: @adharalikethestar @mayuwolfstar @ieatboysalive @maraudereestauderelb @bugg06 @slytherinambitious @cadenceisdelulu @champomiel

[charliedaltonswife]

Buttons

Henry Winter x reader (The Secret History)

this is an request in my dms which will stay anon, love you lots!!!

Summary: You return home to find Henry waiting for you, as he often does. When he follows you into your room and offers to help with the buttons of your dress, Henry finally lets go of the restraint he’s held for so long.

Warnings: bro fucking smut, filth. I still dont know if im any good at smut but here ya go.

master list found here

The incense clung to the rafters, curling into ghostly fingers that wove through the heavy stone arches. Sunlight filtered through stained glass, washing the congregation in blood-red and cobalt-blue light. The choir’s voices rose, thick and sacred, their harmonies threading through the cavernous church.

"Kyrie eleison… Christe eleison…"

Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.

You stood among them, lips moving with the familiar Latin, though your voice was absent from the chorus. There was something about the words, the repetition of them, that always made you feel like a child again. It was less about belief, you thought, than the rhythm of it, the same way people who hadn’t prayed in years still found themselves murmuring Hail Marys in the dark.

The priest droned on, the Gospel reading sliding from his tongue in an unbroken wave. You let your mind drift, eyes tracing the golden thread embroidered along the hem of your missal.

Religion, after all, was a performance.

Not in the crude, cynical sense. Though you had met your fair share of atheists who sneered at the whole affair, calling it a grand theatrical piece put on for the feeble-minded. Julian came to mind immediately. No, religion was a performance in the way all human interaction was. The way people bowed their heads, murmured their responses on cue. The way they folded themselves into its movements, following its choreography without thought.

Henry understood that better than most. You had watched him, over the years, move through the world as if he were rehearsing lines no one else could hear. And wasn’t that its own kind of devotion? To recite something so often that you became it?

There had always been something between you and Henry. Amongst the group - their laughter, their quarrels, the wine-drunk intellectual posturing that spun late into the night - you and he only contributed when necessary, calculated. Not for lack of thought, but because there was nothing to prove. Where the others filled space with words, you and Henry existed in the hush between them, in the understanding that a glance could say what a thousand syllables could not. You had never needed to explain yourselves to one another. It was a rare, precious thing in a world where everyone else demanded translation.

The others noticed it, of course. Francis with his amused, knowing looks, Charles with his ever-lingering skepticism, Camilla watching from some distant place as if she, too, was trying to decipher what lay beneath it all. Even Richard, so eager to belong, had asked once in that tentative way of his, what it was, exactly, that made Henry so different when it came to you. You had only shrugged. Because how could you explain that Henry, for all his precision and calculation, his cold-blooded pragmatism, had never needed to hold a knife to you? That you had never once felt the need to impress him, to earn his approval like the others so quietly did? He had been cruel to them, sometimes, dismissive in that sharp, unsparing way of his, but never to you. With you, there was only a stillness, an understanding. As if he had recognized something in you, something similar, and chosen you for it.

There were moments when that connection felt like a kind of solace, those late nights together, when the world narrowed to the scratch of pen on paper, the glow of lamplight stretching long shadows across the floor, neither of you speaking but still in perfect company. And yet, there were other times when it felt like a force far more dangerous, something neither of you could quite name. A pull, an inevitability. A thread drawn too tight. Because there were times when you would look at him, really look at him, and find him already looking back, and in that moment, something in the air would shift. As if the world, for just one breath, was waiting for whatever would come next.

The congregation stirred. The Creed. You stood with the others, hands brushing the pew in front of you. The choir began again, a soaring hymn that rattled against the stone.

"Et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis…"

And on earth, peace to men of goodwill.

You wondered if Henry had ever struggled with that line.

-

The apartment was dim when you arrived home, the weak afternoon sun barely slipping through the curtains. You had barely closed the door when you saw him.

Henry sat on your couch as if it were his own, one leg crossed over the other, a book balanced neatly on his knee. He looked up as you entered, his gaze sweeping over you in that unreadable way of his.

“You leave your door unlocked,” he remarked, turning a page. “A poor habit.”

“You pick my lock,” you countered, stepping out of your shoes. “A worse one.”

Henry only hummed, before he snapped his book shut.

“Church?” he asked.

You nodded, tossing your bag onto the table.

“And?”

You exhaled, rubbing at your temple. “And,” you said, “Mother believes me good and innocent purely because I attend those masses, little does she know I go because father pays me. He hates going, you see, slips me cash so I go instead.”

Henry smirked slightly, watching as you unfastened the coat draped over your shoulders. His gaze lingered, a fraction too long, before he looked away.

You had grown accustomed to Henry’s presence in your home. It had started with small intrusions, an unannounced visit, a book borrowed and not returned. Now, it was an unspoken routine, a thing that simply was.

You padded toward your bedroom, pausing in the doorway. “I’m changing.”

A flick of the wrist, dismissive. “I’m aware.”

You rolled your eyes, shutting the door behind you.

The room was dim, quiet. You reached for the buttons at the back of your dress, fingers fumbling slightly. The fabric was stiff, the buttons stubborn, and you let out a quiet, frustrated noise.

There was a shift behind you. A flicker in the mirror’s reflection.

You turned, and there he was.

Henry stood in the doorway, his eyes dark and steady, his hands in his pockets. The moment stretched, thin as thread.

“You know, I should be screaming for help right no-”

But he was already moving.

He stepped behind you, hands brushing yours aside, fingers finding the buttons with practiced ease. The air between you felt impossibly thick.

“You should really stop wearing these,” he murmured, undoing the next button. “Too much trouble.”

Your breath caught as his knuckles grazed the bare skin of your spine.

“I wasn’t aware you had such strong opinions on my wardrobe.”

A quiet hum. “Oh, I have plenty.”

Another button. And another.

Your throat felt tight. You wanted to say something sharp, something cutting, but the words wouldn’t come. Not with his hands so careful, his breath so close.

The last button slipped free.

The dress sagged against your shoulders, heavy with its own weight.

Henry didn’t move away.

His fingers brushed the curve of your neck, tracing the place where your pulse beat beneath your skin. You swallowed hard, your hands curling into fists.

“You were staring at me,” you said suddenly. The words felt like an accusation.

Henry was quiet for a long moment. 

“I know.” A simple response, very Henry-esq. He dipped his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. A shiver ran down your spine, and you hated the way your body betrayed you, the way you leaned into him without thinking.

“You should tell me to stop,” he murmured. You should. But you didn’t.

Henry exhaled softly, and then, finally, he pressed his mouth to your skin. The way his lips traced a path down your neck, the way his fingers skimmed the edge of your dress, pushing it lower, lower.

Henry hummed, a quiet sound of amusement, but didn’t reply. He reached for the dress, and the fabric slackened, slipping down your shoulders, baring the curve of your neck.

His fingers ghosted along your skin, tracing the line of your spine, so faint it might have been an accident. But nothing Henry did was ever accidental. His hand trailed up your spine like a whisper of silk, each fingertip a quiet invocation, a prayer written in heat and reverence. The touch was slow, setting each vertebra alight with something perilously close to worship. His mouth was at your ear before you could even think to stop him.

“Turn around,” he said.

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to. But because you did. Because you had always wanted to.

Yet, slowly, you turned. You felt incredibly small under his gaze, not in size but in confidence. If you were being true to yourself, all of your confidence had flushed away the second he stepped into the room. His fingers found the edge of your sleeve, pushing it further down your shoulder, his touch so light it sent a shiver through you. His other hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his knuckles grazing the hollow beneath your ear.

But then his lips were against your throat, warm and deliberate, and any lingering hesitations burned away like parchment to flame.

His lips barely grazed your throat at first, a whisper of a touch, but the sensation sent a pulse of heat down your spine. You stood there, frozen, the fabric of your dress slipping further down your shoulders, caught at your elbows. Henry's breath fanned across your skin.

“Let go,” Henry states simply, a hushed tone in his voice, “Let go of the dress darling.”

Before you can argue with him, his lips are latching to yours, hands gripping your hips enough to tug you flush against his own. You let the dress slip from your body and pool at your feet. A hand slides up from your bare lower back, up along your spine just as he did before, as he finds the strap of your bra. His lips are on your neck, wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses, every touch making you think you had died and were now in the warm clouds of heaven. The clasps are disengaged in quick time, and he pulls away from your skin to switch to the other side of your neck. Your bra is discarded to the floor, dropping to meet your long forgotten dress.

“Henry…” You began, not actually sure as to what you were about to say.

“Shush.” He responded, not quite silencing you but easing you, carefully cupping your breast, and gripping onto it. If that didn't silence you, you weren't sure what would. Henry’s thumb rolled over the peak of your nipple as your head craned back, soaking in the sweet feeling of euphoria. His mouth left a wet trail down your chest until the warm feeling blooms along your other boob, his tongue flicking to make a rhythm along your skin. You didn't know what else to do but moan. 

“Not so innocent anymore,” He taunts, moving to switch sides.

His touch was a struck match against your skin, a slow-burning ember that sparked and caught, setting alight something that had long lain dormant within you. As he keeps mouthing at your tits, he maneuvers his other hand to let a finger run explore underneath the skimpy material of your underwear. Slowly, he moves to the edge of the bed. 

"Lay down," He was always direct, you knew that well, but this felt different, it was as if he needed this. 

You nodded sheepishly, moving towards the bed to lay down, adjusting to sit on your forearms. Instinctively your eyes closed and before you knew it, you felt his lips start leaving wet spots along your inner thighs, a slight sound leaving you. 

"Are you always this demanding?" You huffed, looking down at him finally.

A very subtle smirk floods his face as rough hands slide under the sides of your underwear. 

"Don’t get cocky with me." Henry responded lightly. You found it oddly amusing that the meaning of his words contrasted so starkly with the sweet tone he said it in. 

The surprise on your face speaks for itself as his hands free the material from your hips. His hands come to your calves, guiding your legs to prop up and spread apart. You bite down on your lip, surely drawing blood, when his tongue slides between your folds, the sensation making you somewhat melt along the duvet under you. 

You moan loudly as he latches his lips around your clit; sucking and licking like his life depended on it. Your hand suddenly flew down and pulled on his hair as you felt your arousal grow tighter. His touch was a whispered incantation, a current of quiet ruin sparking along your skin, setting every nerve alight in a way that felt less like being touched and more like being rewritten. You could taste the metallic pang drip from your lip from biting it so harshly, holding back the sounds that threatened to escape.

“Dont,” he shifted one of his hands from your things and inserted a finger into you, going in and out, curling. “Stop doing that, just let yourself go.”

You nod your head, and he smiles contently, his eyes locking you and your attention in as he catches you off guard, his other hand pushing a finger into you, thoroughly soaked from his toying. You lean your head back, arching slightly as you let out a loud moan, letting the pleasure ooze from your throat.

"Good girl." His hand at your lower half begins to pump in and out, his other hand holding your hips down in place.

The faster his hand rocks into you, the slower and more affectionately his tongue becomes, rubbing circles against your clit, the feeling making you sigh in contentment. When he moved, it was the breaking of a dam, a flood of feeling crashing through the fragile barriers you’d spent so long pretending weren’t there. Henry’s hand that was on your hip slowly trails up to trace along your jawline and chin before it taps your bottom lip. 

"Open up." His thumb, soft as moth wings, pressed against your lips with a delicacy that felt almost reverent, as if he were tracing the shape of something sacred, something he scarcely believed he had the right to touch. You do as you're told as he dips his thumb past your lips, instinctively closing around him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck, Henry’s thumb stifling the moan that shakes through your body as he pushes another finger into you. 

"You are so good for me, aren't you?" Henry pulls back, the both of you catching your breath as pushes - in, out, in out. Your jaw slacks, trying to get an answer out. A particularly rough thrust of his hand drives his question again. "Answer."

Eagerly, you nod, a gasping answer sneaking out. "Yes Henry, so good just for you, Henry."

He keeps increasing his pace as you feel yourself getting closer to your climax. Your leg begins to shake a bit as you cling to him, pulling his hair, sinking your nails into his arm. He kisses your clit one last time before your moans grow louder and you feel yourself releasing around his fingers, your cries echoing through the house. It was as if he had reached inside you and tugged at the very strings that held you together, unraveling something deep and secret with a touch so precise it felt preordained. His fingers continue, but slow down slightly to ride you through your high.

You followed his lead, instinctively, as if you had always known how to move with him, how to read the minute shifts in his body, the careful deliberation in his touch. Your breathing slowed, the tension unraveling from your limbs, melting into the soft sheets beneath you. His lips traced a slow, deliberate path along your thigh, a whisper of warmth and reverence, before he moved upward, the mattress shifting as he braced himself above you. When his mouth finally found yours, it was not hurried, not impatient, only the quiet press of lips, the shared breath.

He pulled back just slightly, his nose brushing against yours, his gaze searching. You knew what he meant without him even asking.

Your throat tightened, the sheer intimacy of it all catching you off guard. But you nodded, your chest rising and falling with the weight of everything unspoken. “I’m fine,” you said oh so quietly, “that was perfect darling.”

He lingered there for a moment, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips, close enough that all you had to do was tilt your chin, just slightly, and you would meet him again. So you did. Without thinking, without hesitation, you closed the space between you, your lips pressing to his with the same quiet certainty that had always existed between you.

a/n: oh lords, well, we're just gonna leave this here and get back to writing more requests, im trying my best to keep cranking them out, i hope you like them, it brings me so much joy to wake up to more requests, and creative af too.

[oddmawd]

THE ART OF QUEEN SACRIFICE - A Dark Doflamingo Romance

SUMMARY: In chess, a player commits “queen sacrifice” by intentionally giving up their queen to gain a significant strategic or material advantage upon the board. But life is not a game of chess, and such strategies are easier prescribed than practiced — a lesson the princess of Mary Geoise will personally learn when she offers her hand in marriage to the infamous pirate warlord Doflamingo in order to spare her beloved kingdom from his wrath. [Pirate!Doflamingo x Princess!OC. Unnamed/undescribed OC for x-reader fans.] [Pirate AU. Yes, a pirate AU for One Piece. It makes sense in context, promise.]

TAGS & CONTENT WARNINGS

AO3 Link - This fic is hosted in its entirety exclusively on AO3

FANDOM: One Piece

PAIRINGS: Doflamingo x OC (can be read as Doffy x Reader)

RATING: E(xplicit)

WORD COUNT: 8 chapters total, 75k+ words

GENRE: Dark Romance

TAGS: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Stalking, Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation, Intrigue, Corruption, Chess, Chess Metaphors, Strategy & Tactics, Yandere, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Pirates, Princes & Princesses, Eventual S m u t, Romance, Dark Fantasy, Non-Linear Narrative, Fairy tale vibes, Cis Female Reader, Cis Female OC

WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence, s m u t in chapters 6-8, Doflamingo is a manipulative bastard

CHAPTER 1 - EXCERPT

The princess of Mary Geoise stood upon the balcony to watch her beloved kingdom burn.

She dressed plainly for the occasion. No finery, no frills, no fuss. That night she wore but a simple gown and plain shoes, bare of all regalia but the bauble she never took from around her pretty neck. She clutched this necklace in her shaking hands for comfort. Most days she hid it beneath her clothes, tucked under modest necklines and away from the prying eyes of her maids and watching father, but the time for such caution had passed.

They were almost at the end, now. Her father could levy no punishments graver than what awaited her come dawn.

“My lady.”

The third and newly appointed general of her father’s armies — for their enemies had slain the first and his replacement alike — bowed upon the flagstones at her feet. Distant fire reflected in the depths of his worried eyes. The princess could not remember his name, though she recalled the black tattoos upon his hands well enough. She bade him stand with a nod, gaze returning to the tableau of destruction playing out before her. Fire had not yet touched the noble quarter, but sparks rose to the stars at the city’s edge, spreading inward through the other districts in a sullen, rust-red ring.

“What news?” she asked with the taste of ash upon her tongue.

“Our blockade has fallen. Pirate forces breached the city walls.”

She closed her eyes. “How many?”

“A-all of them.” The general swallowed. “The Pirate Warlord sent them all.”

From his rightful place atop the conquered throne, her weary father murmured, “Don’t…don’t call him that.”

The wan-faced king sat slumped, mouth slick with wine, fingers clasped around the neck of the seventh bottle he’d downed since news broke of the pirates reaching his kingdom’s shore. He did not look like a king that night. Tonight, he was just a man, the dignity of his station crumbling in the face of imminent defeat.

And like a diamond that had lost its luster, he was ignored. “Pirate ships block the harbor,” said the general. He answered to her, now — a princess in name but the kingdom’s queen in practice.  Especially after the secrets that had recently come to light. “There can be no escape. Not anymore.”

He needn’t have said it. The princess already knew. A game of Monarchic Chess sat behind her, half complete, tiles of the board arranged in the shape of her kingdom, the game of this attack splayed out upon them in perfect, miniature detail. But although the game was not yet finished, she could already predict the outcome. The number of ships, the element of surprise, the pirate warlord’s tactics…her forces were outgunned, and with no warning to aid them, they were outmaneuvered, too. The blockade had been naught but a desperate, last-ditch effort to repel his forces, her final attempt to save them — to save not only herself and the monarchy, but to save the people she had vowed to protect. Her people were the ones who truly mattered in this scenario. She had known her efforts would fail from the outset, and that she acted on their behalf in vain, but hope compelled her try for one last chance at victory.

A chance now slipping through her fingers, as impossible to grasp as hope itself.

“Thank you, General.” She turned from him, and from her father, and returned her attention to the kingdom she had failed. “You are dismissed.”

But he did not leave. Instead he said: “There’s more.”

Bitter laughter charred her throat. “What more could there possibly be?”

“Messengers from the Pirate Warlord — from the enemy.” He corrected himself with a sideways glance at her father. “They came to tell us citizens have been taken hostage.”

Her blood ran cold. “How many?”

“Hundreds. Our operatives have confirmed it. They are gathered in groups, held at gunpoint.”

She considered this for a time. “And the Warlord’s demands in return for their safe release?”

“He…” The general looked as stunned as she felt. “He hasn’t made any.”

“So far,” the princess murmured. “There is still time yet.”

And so she waited. The general left. In his absence, advisors slinked from their hiding places in the shadows of the throne room to stand about like carrion, black-cloaked and beady-eyed, waiting for the corpse to pick clean with their sharp beaks. They wrung their hands, watching her. Whispered in her father’s ear, though he was too drunk to heed them. Many though they numbered, and brilliant in their own right, they were no help to the princess. They never had been, she ruefully mused. She alone had been their savior for many years, unknowing all the while, fighting their battles for them atop the Monarchic Chessboard. But now, even with eyes at last open to the truth, she was helpless to deliver them from this hell on earth.

It was over. It was well and truly over.

High in her tower above the city, the princess’s eyes burned as she gazed at the burning kingdom, lids heavy and thick in their struggle to remain open. So many sleepless nights. So many games played. So many tears spilled that evening, and in the many evenings before the Pirate Warlord attacked her borders outright. But all had been for naught, and now he marched upon her shores. Her enemy, her foe, her villain — he would be here soon. Soon, she would look the devil in the eye, and fall.

Unable to resist, she allowed her tired eyes to close. Smoke and ash rose from the burning city. Wind caressed her cheeks, her throat, even her hands as they clutched the necklace she loved so much. But the cold comfort of the jewel on her palm could not guard against the distant screams of her people as they were menaced by the pirates who had laid her father’s armies to waste. There could be no comfort for the princess as the noose prepared to pull tight around her throat. There could be no stopping the ring of fire sweeping toward her.

Closing her eyes was an insult to the citizens she had failed to protect. They did not have the luxury of awaiting their fate from the impersonal height of a palace tower. 

Thus, she opened them again to stare into the heart of her burning, beloved capital…but to her surprise, the image before her did not match the horrors in her head. The fiery horizon had not moved. The ring of fire had not closed. No, it somehow held steady, a constant halo of destruction that had moved not an inch deeper into the capital city and the palace waiting at its heart. The onslaught had been held at bay by…she knew not what. Had the invasion halted? But why?

What was the pirate warlord waiting for?

Her hands left the stone parapet along the balcony as she whirled to face the throne room.

“You there,” she asked, but the advisors scattered like crows under the stone of her gaze. She turned instead to the guard at the door. “Where is the general?”

“I can find him, Princess,” the guard said, scrambling. “I can — ”

He vanished through the huge oak doors. She returned her stare to the line of fire. Her knees ached from standing on the cold flagstones for hours on end. The princess had not moved since they received word of the unified pirate army’s invasion of the capital, but she refused to sink into despair alongside her wilting father. The bauble in her hand gave her strength. Oh, that beloved pink jewel she wore on its delicate chain — it gave her courage even when weariness clawed her eyes and dug sharp teeth into her psyche. She rolled it through her fingers, weighing it on her palm and giving the sparkling gem the smallest kiss when she thought no one was looking. The diamond held more than mere glitter or monetary value. It held the very core of her dreams in its facets, glinting back at her with a thousand possibilities and all the lives she might have lived had the unthinkable not occurred.

But the unthinkable had occurred. The war had been lost. The pirates had won. She would never be able to tell the person who had given her the gem how much his words had haunted her since their parting. She would never be able to tell him she wanted to reconsider the offer she had rejected. She would never be able to take his hand and say yes as she so longed to. That possibility had gone dark the moment the fires lit. If only she had met him in some other life, perhaps — 

The door opened, and the general said: “He has stopped advancing, Princess.”

She spun in a tangle of skirts. Once again the general knelt upon the stones behind her. Her father moaned atop the throne, but she hardly heard his cry of despair.

“Have our forces rallied?” she asked, but there was no hope in her heart. “I did not think they would be capable — ”

“No. They are not capable.” He passed a tattooed hand over his weary face. “He could press forward again at any time. He has the forces to destroy us in an instant.” But here he paused. “And yet.”

“And yet he has not.” Her hands fisted, fingernails scraping soft skin. “Why has that monster — ?” She shook her head. “He is just a man.”

“Princess?” asked her general.

“Never mind.” She dropped her hands and turned, head held high, tired eyes unyielding as they dragged her scattered advisors from the shadows. “Tell me again. Tell me everything you know about him.”

“We have told you everything already, Princess,” they whispered.

“Then tell me again,” demanded the princess, “about the Pirate Warlord Doflamingo.”

READ THE REST OF CHAPTER 1 ON AO3. CLICK HERE!

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 13 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - you and Spencer push each other away and find comfort in other people.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - Spencer and reader with different people, drinking, flirting, smoking, making out, penetrative sex, protected sex, mention of oral (m receiving), swearing, drunk Spencer.

WC - 4.8k

Chapter 13 - Different Songs

The self proclaimed, “world famous” Wooden Nickel, at two hundred and twenty two Elk Avenue, was sandwiched between Mountain Spirits Liquor Store and the Princess Wine Bar. It had a pink wooden facade with green detailing around the doors and windows and was conveniently located just a short walk from your cabin. 

The inside was all dark leather and even darker wood, its colour scheme oddly similar to Spencer’s apartment. It had an old fireplace with a wrap-around bench for snuggling up and getting warm, dim lighting and deer and elk heads mounted on the walls. 

They had a small and expensive menu on offer but you couldn’t deny the smell of the food cooking that wafted from the kitchen was out of this world. You were taking it all in, eyes bouncing around the room as Spencer seemed to hurriedly lead you with a hand on your lower back to a booth over the back of the room. 

It only took a brief glance at the bar for you to quickly spot the bright red head of hair to know why. You rolled your eyes and he continued motioning you along. 

“You knew she worked here.” You grumbled as you took a seat at the booth. 

“Who?” Spencer shook his head and if you didn’t know any better you would think he was being genuine. 

“Fire engine Mary. There are a ton of bars in this town but when I suggested going out, you insisted you’d heard this one was the best.” You narrowed your eyes on him. “I can leave if you’d like to be alone with her.” 

Spencer wished his dick didn’t twitch when you suggested that but he ignored it, still on his feet. 

“What are you drinking?” He asked, already seemingly halfway to the bar. 

“Cool it, Casanova,” you scoffed, getting to your feet. “I’ll get the drinks.”

“But I…” he started as you pushed him into the seat while rolling your eyes. 

“Scotch, hubby?” You didn’t wait for him to reply before you were turning away and heading towards the bar. 

You purposefully headed straight towards a gap in the section of the bar that Mary was tending, wanting her to know you were here and hopefully seeing you as a threat. You unzipped your jacket as you made your way over, puffing out your chest and making sure the gold band on your finger was on display. 

She smiled at you as you approached but it wasn’t a particularly friendly gesture. 

“Oh hi,” she spoke as you reached the bar. “Daisy was it?” 

“Rose.” You corrected her with a roll of your eyes. 

“Same difference.” She shrugged. “What can I get you?” 

“I’ll have a large glass of Merlot and a double scotch on the rocks for my husband.” You made sure to emphasise the last word. 

“Hmm guess he does have good taste in some things.” Mary clucked, turning her back on you to fix your drinks. 

You slammed your hands on the bar top, ready to leap over the counter and slap this silly bitch around the face but before you could make another move, a hand was on your shoulder. 

Assuming it would be Spencer, you turned with a heavy frown which quickly faded when you found yourself staring into the eyes of someone who was most certainly not your fake husband. 

The man in question was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. His brown eyes were so soft but so alluring as they regarded you, his smile reaching right up to them. He had jet black hair which was swept back off his face and a thick beard which matched in colour. His smile just about lit up the whole damn room. 

“Don’t mind Mary.” He spoke, a hint of amusement in his voice. “She’s feisty.” 

“I’m feistier.” You countered making the stranger chuckle. 

“I’ll bet.” He continued to laugh and it was so deep you felt it vibrate your soul. “I’m Jesse. Jesse McGill.” 

“McGill?” You shook his hand which he offered to you. “As in the diner?”

“My pop’s place. I work there during the off season. In the winter I’m a snowboard instructor.” 

The look he was giving you made you a little weak at the knees and for a moment you forgot all about Spencer and Mary and anything that didn’t directly pertain to Jesse in front of you. 

“You must be pretty athletic then.” Your eyes wandered of their own accord, taking in his tight black tee which hugged strong, tattooed biceps. They continued down to his equally tight jeans and you couldn’t help but wonder how amazing his ass might look in them. 

“I guess.” He chuckled again and you might actually collapse if he kept doing that. “What’s your name?”

“Rose. Burnett.” You nodded, trying to focus your brain on simple conversation and not get caught up imagining what this stranger might be like in bed. 

“Beautiful. It suits you.” He smiled so brightly at you, you felt your brain melting inside your head. 

You opened your mouth to reply but before you could, the sound of glasses slamming down on the counter top startled you. 

“Careful, Jesse,” Mary’s smug voice entered your ears. “She’s married.” 

You turned to her and shot her a look that was angrier than it should have been and she simply smiled at you. 

“I’ll open you a tab, hon. It’ll be under Daisy.” Mary looked pleased with herself as she turned and walked away. 

You took a calming breath before you turned back to Jesse who looked a little downtrodden. 

“It’s my fault, I didn’t notice the ring.” He smiled a little sadly. 

“Yeah.” You rolled your lip between your teeth, wishing you could tell him it wasn’t a real marriage but of course that would be dangerous. “It was really nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” He nodded at you. “And seriously, don’t pay any attention to Mary, she’s all bark and no bite.” 

“I’ll bear that in mind.” You picked up your drinks and took one more glance at Jesse before you forced yourself to walk away. 

You physically had to drag yourself back over to Spencer and dropped into the booth with a small huff, pushing his drink across the table towards him.

“I was about to send out a search party. Where the hell did you go?” He shook his head at you. 

“Your girlfriend was giving me hassle.” You sighed, sipping your wine. 

“Jealous?” Spencer cocked his eyebrow at you in amusement. 

“Of her? Please.” You scoffed. 

Your eyes wandered back towards the bar and landed on the side of Jesse’s face as he talked to another man. From the side you could really appreciate his bone structure, he clearly had a strong jawline hidden under that beard. Your mind quickly wandered right down a gutter and you couldn’t help but picture what that beard would feel like between your legs. 

You clenched your thighs together under the table and felt your cheeks flushing a little. Spencer frowned watching your cheeks pink up and followed your gaze over to the bar. 

He rolled his eyes, downing at least half of the scotch in one as he saw what you were staring at. He felt anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach, a protectiveness washing over him. 

“Does he know you’re married?” He spat, causing your eyes to snap back to him. 

“Not really married.” You rolled your eyes. “But yes, your scarlet harlot ratted me out.”

“Good.” Spencer scoffed, sitting back in the booth. “You better stay away from him.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” He pulled a face. 

“So it’s ok for you to flirt with the young bimbo but I can’t talk to a handsome, age appropriate man?” You glared at him.

He sat forward in his chair again, his facial expression softening slightly. But then he slammed his palms against the table, causing you to jump a little at the sound. You could tell instantly that the light switch had flipped once more and gone was the sweet, awkward Spencer you cared about. 

“You belong to me.” He spoke calmly. “I’ve already told you that, princess. You are mine.” 

“But you don’t belong to me?” 

“Correct.” He smirked, sipping from his glass again.

“That doesn’t work for me.” You shook your head. 

“Too bad, sweetheart.” 

You clenched your jaw, looking up at Jesse again as he was slipping a thick winter coat on and heading to the door. You downed your wine in one and dropped the glass back to the table. 

“Spencer, with all due respect,” you stood up, grabbing your coat and purse. “Go to hell.” 

“Y/N,” he spoke in a warning tone, trying to grab your arm as you passed. “Y/N…Rose! Come back here!” 

You didn’t turn back around, just continued towards the door hoping you’d annoyed him as much as you’d wanted to. 

Spencer picked up his glass and slammed it back on the table in his frustration, swearing under his breath. He lifted the glass a second time and finished the contents and as he was about to follow you, someone was sliding into the booth next to him and blocking his exit. 

Mary was giving him the most sultry smile, her eyes dripping with lust as she leant in close to him. Her long nail grazed along his cheek, down his neck and dipped just slightly beneath the collar of his purple button down. 

“Finally, I never thought she’d leave.” She breathed, pushing her chest out toward him. 

Her featherlight touch on the sensitive skin just beneath his collarbone combined the delicious look she was giving him banished all thoughts of you from his mind. And when he leant even closer and put his large hand on her thigh, he wasn’t thinking of you at all. 

“Me either.” He smirked at her dangerously, moving in even closer still and ghosting his lips over the shell of her ear. “You wanna get out of here, princess?” 

***

Shoving open the door of the Wooden Nickel and stepping out into the cold, you were kept warm by a blanket of anger towards Spencer. 

He thought he owned you, how dare he? You wanted to prove him wrong more than anything else in the world. 

The sound of a lighter flickering caught your attention and you turned to your left to find Jesse leaning up against the side of the bar, a cigarette cradled between his lips. He smiled at you around it. 

“Following me?” His eyebrow cocked in amusement. 

“What if I said I was?” You sidled over to him.

Feeling brazen you reached and took the cigarette from his lips before taking a puff on it. You weren’t strictly a smoker, but you’d had one or two on occasion, usually when you drank a lot. He watched the way your lips wrapped around the butt and you inhaled the smoke before delicately exhaling it and handing him back the cigarette. 

“What would your husband think of that, Rose?” He licked his bottom lip. 

“My husband is a drunk. A bully. And I’m fairly certain he will have his hands too full with a certain slutty redhead to even notice I’m not there.” You shrugged, trying not to sound too bitter. 

“You like cocktails, Rose?” He pushed himself away from the wall. 

“Sure.” You nodded at him. 

“Come with me.” He placed his hand on your back and started leading you away from the Wooden Nickel, in the direction of 3rd Street. 

He kept his hand on your back, using his other to drag on the cigarette as the two of you walked. When Spencer led you in this way you felt controlled, but when Jesse did it you felt safe. 

You let him lead you across the street and up the road to an old wooden building that used to be an old miners cabin. It had a crude, handwritten sign over the door claiming it as The Dogwood. Inside was small and cosy, but nonetheless bustling. Jesse motioned you towards the bar where several people greeted him with smiles and waves.

“Mini Gill, good to see ya, boy.” The ageing, bearded man behind the bar leant across the counter and shook Jesse's hand. 

“Good to see you too, Mac.” He smiled amiably but the old man, Mac, was already looking at you. 

“And who is your friend?” He asked Jesse but he was eyeing you up and down. 

“This is Rose, she’s…on vacation? Or are you planning on staying?” He asked you with a small frown. 

“Undecided.” You offered him a smile, quickly and subtly sliding off the gold wedding band and slotting it into your pocket before you held your hand out to shake Mac’s. “Nice to meet you.” 

“She’s cute.” Mac wiggled his eyebrows at Jesse. 

“She is.” Jesse agreed with a shy smile. “Can we get some drinks and not scare the pretty lady away?” 

You felt your cheeks burning and you looked away, finding a menu and focusing on that instead. But no sooner had you picked it up, you found it being plucked from your hand.

“You like vodka?” Mac grinned at you. 

“Sure.” You nodded.

“I have the perfect drink for you. I call it the Rosebud.” He beamed brightly. 

“Sounds great.” You smiled back. 

“Sure you want a rosebud too, dontcha Mini Gill?” Mac winked at Jesse, causing the younger man to turn about fifty shades of red. 

“Jesus Christ, Mac.” He muttered under his breath. “I’ll just have a beer.” 

“IPA or stout?”

“Surprise me.” Jesse sighed. 

Mac chuckled to himself as he went about his business making the drinks. You were smiling in amusement at Jesse.

“Not everyone in this town is like this, I swear.” He sidled up to you. “I apologise if he made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Who’s uncomfortable?” You giggled. “So, Mini Gill? Adorable, truly.” 

“Mac and my pops have known each other since before I was born. Apparently when my ma was pregnant with me, that’s what he called me. Almost forty years later and I’m still Mini Gill.” He laughed with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“How did that make it even more adorable?” 

“Stop it.” He waved a hand. “You keep saying nice things to me and I’m going to do something very stupid.” 

Your stomach tightened when his hand came to your face and cupped your cheek in the most delicate way you’d ever been touched before. His fingers brushed your hair behind your ear and you had to swallow thickly. 

“Define stupid.” You croaked, feeling a little dizzy.

“How ‘bout I show you?” He leant closer and you nodded frantically. 

When he gently pressed his lips against yours you were instantly smitten, letting him cautiously part your lips and slide his tongue inside your mouth. Your knees buckled at the tender way in which he kissed you, and you reached out to grip his firm bicep to keep you on your feet. 

His wiry beard was a little scratchy but it felt wonderful. His hold on your face was so light, as if you were the most fragile creature in the world. You hummed against his lips, never wanting this moment to end. 

But soon enough someone was clearing their throat and the two of you sprung apart, your cheeks burning with embarrassment at the way Mac was looking between the two of you in subtle glee. 

“I knew you wanted a rosebud, Mini Gill.” Mac winked at Jesse again, sliding your drinks across the bar before strolling away. 

When Jesse looked back at you, you were laughing and you quickly gripped him by the lapels of his jacket and tugged him in close for another kiss. 

***

Out the back of the Wooden Nickel, Spencer had Mary bent over a dumpster, her skirt pulled up to her hips while his slacks and underwear were tugged down to his thighs. 

She’d been prepared for this judging by the tiniest little lace thong she was wearing and the condom she’d handed him from her jacket pocket. He had one hand down the front of her shirt, teasing her nipple between his fingers and the other flush on the dumpster to steady himself.

She spread her legs for him, pushing her ass back against his dick which found its way between her legs and plunged inside of her. 

Foreplay hadn’t lasted very long. She’d dropped to her knees and sucked him off when she’d first gotten him out here but if he were perfectly honest, she wasn’t all that good at it, not like you were anyway. He fingered her in return, mostly to get her ready for his large member. 

She practically howled as he entered her, clearly not used to taking cocks as big as his. He felt her pulsing and stretching around him but not in the way you did when he fucked you. 

It was good. It was enjoyable. It wasn’t as though he wouldn’t be able to finish; it just might take longer than usual. But that wasn’t entirely Mary’s fault, the condom certainly didn’t help. And Mary couldn’t help that she wasn’t you. 

He continued his thrusts, gripping the back of Mary’s fire engine red hair and balling up on his fist, tugging on it like a leash. He closed his eyes and just focused on the way it felt, filtered everything else out. 

It was good. It was enjoyable. But fuck, it wasn’t you. 

He came eventually, whether Mary did or not was another thing entirely. He pulled out and stripped off the condom, tossing it in the dumpster while she turned around and repositioned her panties and smoothed down her skirt. He tucked himself away and did up his pants. 

Even in the dimly lit side alley, he could see a small blush creeping to her cheeks and he had to refrain from rolling his eyes. 

I knew it. You’re all talk, all false bravado. And now I’ve actually slept with you and you’re vulnerable the insecurities are going to come any second…

“Was that…did you uh, enjoy that?” She seemed to flinch at her own words and Spencer felt bad for her. 

Despite wanting to scoff and simply turn and leave her here he fought against it, he had no idea how long he’d be in this town and he could use with someone on his side. Especially when you weren’t. 

“It was great, sweetheart.” He gently stroked her messy hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “But I am married. So we need to keep this quiet ok?” 

“Of course.” She nodded, looking much like a frightened deer. It was such a stark contrast to her flirtatiousness earlier. 

“Thank you.” He leant in and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before letting his hand fall to his side. “I’m gonna go ok? You should be working right?” 

“Shit, yeah.” She suddenly snapped out of her post-sex daze. “I’ll see you, yeah?”

“Sure.” He nodded, watching as she quickly hurried back down the alley. 

Spencer exhaled, shaking his head a little at his own stupidity. Not only had he probably led that poor girl on but he’d betrayed you. Was it cheating? The two of you had never defined what you were beyond partners in crime, but it felt like he’d been disloyal. 

Sleeping with Mary was supposed to be fun, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about you and how she wasn’t you. How her body wasn’t yours, how it didn’t respond to him the way yours did. How it didn’t feel anywhere near as amazing to be with her as it did with you.

He could deny it all he wanted, skirt around the issue but he was just as bound to you as you were to him. He let you in and you were there to stay. He was in love with you, it was as simple as that. 

God he was a fucking moron. 

He dragged himself out of the alley, needing a drink or more accurately, several. He found another bar down the street, not much wanting to show his face in the Wooden Nickel again right now. He ambled into The Secret Stash keeping his head down and ordered four shots in quick succession. 

But that was only the beginning. 

***

Jesse insisted on walking you back to the cabin and the tension that surrounded you was palpable. He was sweet, and a very good kisser. You didn’t have to worry about his mood shifting like Spencer. He was the kind of guy you thought Spencer was. 

For less than twenty four hours Spencer had shown you bliss, found this perfect little place for you to live and lulled you into believing things were going to be ok between you. But all it had taken was one pretty, young thing walking his way and you became old news. And you certainly weren’t going to wait around for him forever. 

Jesse walked you up the little cobbled path and the two of you came to a stop just by the steps leading to the porch. 

“So,” he smiled a little wistfully. “As amazing as tonight has been I can’t help but keep remembering that you’re married.” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing thickly. “It’s not…it’s really complicated. I guess you could say it’s a convience thing? He’s more my friend than a husband, if that makes any semblance of sense.”

“Not really.” He chuckled lightly. “You’re trying to say it’s not a real marriage?”

“I guess. It’s…we’re not together like a couple? Kissing you wasn’t exactly cheating, and I’m fairly certain he was doing a lot more than just kissing someone else tonight so, yeah.” 

“I really don’t understand.” He laughed again, stepping closer to you and cupping your cheek in his hand. “But is he going to kick my ass if I kiss you again?”

“I’d like to see him try. You saw how weedy he is right?” You smirked, edging closer to him. “But in seriousness, he would have no right to kick your ass even if he could.” 

“I don’t want to step on any toes.” He leaned even closer, his breath fanning across your face. 

“No one’s having their toes stepped on, trust me.” You encouraged him and it seemed to be all he needed to hear as he closed the small space between you and kissed you again. 

You melted into him, the same way you had every time he’d kissed you tonight. You’d felt like a giddy teenager, making out with a hot guy until your lips were swollen and puffy. With all the time you’d spent with your lips on each other tonight you’d barely had anything to drink. 

The same could not be said about your husband. 

It just turned midnight as you were succumbing to Jesse and the kiss, when you heard shuffling nearby and you reluctantly pulled away from him and glanced down the path. 

Spencer was stumbling on his feet, barely able to take a step without nearly falling down. His eyes were clearly glazed over as he stared angrily at the two of you and attempted to make his way up to the cabin. 

You held your breath as he ambled towards you, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into. Spencer was surely going to blow his lid, maybe he would try to kick Jesse’s ass, although you had no doubts that Jesse was stronger and had the added advantage of not being wasted. 

He reached you, looking between the two of you for a moment or two before he huffed out a breath. 

“Leave.” He spat at Jesse as he pushed between the two of you and struggled up the few steps to the porch. 

“Spen…” you quickly stopped yourself before correcting what you were going to say. “Andrew, how much have you had to drink?” 

He spun on his heels, almost falling right back down the stairs but managing to grab the wall to steady himself. 

“I said leave.” He repeated looking at Jesse, clearly ignoring you. “Unless you plan to fuck my wife on my doorstep. Leave now.” 

He turned again and fumbled in locating his keys while you and Jesse watched on like misbehaved children. He finally got them out of his pocket and shoved the key in the door, getting it open and forcing his way inside. 

You rolled your lip between your teeth and offered Jesse a slightly melancholy smile. 

“I should make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or break something.” You took a step backwards. “Can I see you tomorrow?” 

“I’m really not looking to get into the middle of something complicated.” He shrugged. “I like you, Rose, but I’ve had my share of complicated when it comes to women and I don’t really think I can put myself in that sort of situation again.” 

“Jesse, let me…” you trailed off when you heard a crash from inside the house. You glanced towards the open door and sighed before looking back at Jesse. “Just meet me for lunch tomorrow and we can talk, ok?” 

He sighed but nodded his head all the same. 

“As long as it’s not at my dad’s place.” 

“Anywhere.” Another crash startled you and you rolled your eyes. “But right now I really gotta go.” 

“I’ll swing by and pick you up around lunch time.” 

You dared to lean in and place a chaste kiss on his cheek before stepping away again. He smiled sadly at you before he turned and started down the path. 

You turned back to the house just another crash sounded out. You exhaled heavily, already knowing you were walking into a war zone and it was possible only one of you would make it out of this alive. Quite literally. You forced yourself to move, slowly up the front steps as you braced yourself for what was to come. 

It was funny how quickly things could change. Just as you and Spencer seemed to be on the same page, he’d jumped ahead again. You’d been humming the same tune for a brief moment in time and then suddenly you’d been singing completely different songs all together. Maybe he’d teach you the lyrics, but you had a feeling you were on your own on this one. 

The melody was just a little too fast for you to keep up, and maybe that had been the point. Maybe he didn’t want you to keep up so he could sing along with someone else instead. 

Fresh out the box, shiny and new,

Played it so much 'til it went out of tune,

I tighten the peg 'til the tension erupts,

Didn't think that I could give up.

The record I spun when I was young,

Spoke to my heart and fit just like a glove.

But now that it's played out, the needle is worn,

Didn't think that I could give up.

What changed? What changed?

It's more than just our age,

Or how the music tastes, so I'm asking,

"What changed? What changed?"

'Cause now we're singing different songs,

Forgetting how to sing along together.

When every note comes out so wrong,

It keeps on getting harder to remember,

The melodies or what the lyrics mean,

'Cause now we're singing different songs.

Forgetting how to sing along together.

We once called it love, devolved into lust,

Jealousy speaks out to silence the trust.

We temper our words 'cause we're scared of the truth,

Humming tunes that we can't get through.

When I hear your voice, I hear someone else,

The stress on my heart's getting bad for my health.

So should we admit that we've both had enough?

Didn't think that we could give up.

So what changed? What changed?

It's more than just our age,

Or how the music tastes, so I'm asking?

"What changed? What changed?"

'Cause now we're singing different songs,

Forgetting how to sing along together.

When every note comes out so wrong,

It keeps on getting harder to remember,

The melodies, or what the lyrics mean,

'Cause now we're singing different songs.

Forgetting how to sing along together.

Oh-whoa-oh-oh (oh-whoa-oh-oh).

Oh-whoa-oh-oh (oh-whoa-oh-oh).

Oh-whoa-oh-oh (oh-whoa-oh-oh).

Can't sing along together,

Face to face, so far apart.

We're worlds away from what we were before, before, before.

We started singing different songs (singing different songs),

Forgetting how to sing along together.

When every note comes out so wrong (comes out so wrong),

It keeps on getting harder to remember (hey, hey, remember),

The melodies or what the lyrics mean (lyrics mean),

'Cause now we're singing different songs.

Forgetting how to sing along together.

Oh-whoa-oh-oh (oh-whoa-oh-oh).

Oh-whoa-oh-oh (oh-whoa-oh-oh).

Oh-whoa-oh-oh (oh-whoa-oh-oh),

Can't sing along together.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

[talonabraxas]

The Rose in Alchemy

The cross stands wound densely round with roses. Who has put roses on the cross?... And from the middle springs a holy life Of threefold rays from a single point. — Goethe, Die Geheimnisse (1784-1786)

In alchemy, the white and the red rose are well-known symbols for the lunar and the solar tincture, from which the "precious rose-coloured blood" of Christ-Lapis flows. And the Shehina, the brilliance of celestial wisdom on earth, is understood in the image of the rose, and "the collection of honey" stands for the common inheritance of theosophical knowledge. “Thus the whole parable of the Song of Solomon finally refers to the object of our rose-cross: 'I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the field'”. As regards "the correct procedure for attaining the rose-red blood of the cross that is poured (as quintessence) in the centre of the cross", Fludd used the image of wisdom: the work of the architect as a labourer of God on the building of the temple. — R. Fludd, Summum Bonum, Frankfurt, 1629

Symbolism of the Rose

A highly complex symbol; it is ambivalent as both heavenly perfection and earthly passion; the flower is both Time and Eternity, life and death, fertility and virginity. In the Occident, the rose and lily occupy the position of the lotus in the Orient. In the symbolism of the heart, the rose occupies the central point of the cross, the point of unity. The red and white rose together represent the union of fire and water, the union of opposite. In Alchemy, the rose is wisdom and the rosarium the Work; it is also the rebirth of the spiritual after the death of the temporal. In Hebrew Qabalism, the center of the rose is the sun and the petals the infinite, but harmonious, diversities of Nature. The rose emanates from the Tree of Life. In Hinduism, the lotus parallels the symbolism of the Mystic Rose as a spiritual center, especially in the chakras. For Rosicrucians, the Rose-cross is the Mystic Rose as wheel and cross; the rose is the divine light of the universe and the cross the temporal world of pain and sacrifice. The rose grows on the Tree of Life which implies regeneration and resurrection. The rose in the center of the cross is the quaternary of the elements and the point of unity.

In the Grail legend, the invocations addressed to the divine heart of Jesus contain the feminine element. It is extolled as "the temple in which dwells the life of the world," as a rose, a cup, a treasure, a spring, as the furnace of divine love "ever glowing in the fire of the Holy Ghost", as a censer and as a bridal chamber. Jesus receives the souls of the dying into his heart which "burns glowingly", "as red gold burns and melts in the fire", and the soul dissolves therein, "as water mixes with wine". All of these symbols are feminine and are therefore very closely connected with the motifs of the Grail legend and of alchemical symbolism. --Emma Jung & Marie-Louise von Franz, The Grail Legend (1986)

[its-been-rose]

“Rose why do you draw Marie wearing makeup why would she be wearing black/wine red lipstick and why would she have mascara on she’s literally intending on never showing her face except to like two people (Peggy and Teddy)”

BECAUSE IF I WANT TO DRAW MURDER MOMMY WITH FAT DRAMATIC BLACK TEAR TRACKS DOWN HER CHEEKS AND MORTICIA GOMEZ LIPS I AM DAMN WELL GOING TO

She’s my QUEEN and she deserves to look pretty

[santoschristos]

The Rose in Alchemy

The cross stands wound densely round with roses.

Who has put roses on the cross?…

And from the middle springs a holy life

Of threefold rays from a single point.

--Goethe, Die Geheimnisse (1784-1786)

In alchemy, the white and the red rose are well-known symbols for the lunar and the solar tincture, from which the “precious rose-coloured blood” of Christ-Lapis flows. And the Shehina, the brilliance of celestial wisdom on earth, is understood in the image of the rose, and “the collection of honey” stands for the common inheritance of theosophical knowledge. “Thus the whole parable of the Song of Solomon finally refers to the object of our rose-cross: ‘I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the field'”. As regards “the correct procedure for attaining the rose-red blood of the cross that is poured (as quintessence) in the centre of the cross”, Fludd used the image of wisdom: the work of the architect as a labourer of God on the building of the temple. --R. Fludd, Summum Bonum, Frankfurt, 1629

Symbolism of the Rose

A highly complex symbol; it is ambivalent as both heavenly perfection and earthly passion; the flower is both Time and Eternity, life and death, fertility and virginity. In the Occident, the rose and lily occupy the position of the lotus in the Orient. In the symbolism of the heart, the rose occupies the central point of the cross, the point of unity. The red and white rose together represent the union of fire and water, the union of opposite. In Alchemy, the rose is wisdom and the rosarium the Work; it is also the rebirth of the spiritual after the death of the temporal. In Hebrew Qabalism, the center of the rose is the sun and the petals the infinite, but harmonious, diversities of Nature. The rose emanates from the Tree of Life. In Hinduism, the lotus parallels the symbolism of the Mystic Rose as a spiritual center, especially in the chakras. For Rosicrucians, the Rose-cross is the Mystic Rose as wheel and cross; the rose is the divine light of the universe and the cross the temporal world of pain and sacrifice. The rose grows on the Tree of Life which implies regeneration and resurrection. The rose in the center of the cross is the quaternary of the elements and the point of unity.

In the Grail legend, the invocations addressed to the divine heart of Jesus contain the feminine element. It is extolled as “the temple in which dwells the life of the world,” as a rose, a cup, a treasure, a spring, as the furnace of divine love “ever glowing in the fire of the Holy Ghost”, as a censer and as a bridal chamber. Jesus receives the souls of the dying into his heart which “burns glowingly”, “as red gold burns and melts in the fire”, and the soul dissolves therein, “as water mixes with wine”. All of these symbols are feminine and are therefore very closely connected with the motifs of the Grail legend and of alchemical symbolism. --Emma Jung & Marie-Louise von Franz, The Grail Legend (1986), p. 100

[zablife]

An Evening at Arrow House: A Collection of Harrowing Tales

Here you'll find all the spine tingling fics and haunting artwork created for my 2K follower celebration. All writers have the same goal- to frighten, deceive and otherwise torment Tommy Shelby's new bride until she leaves Arrow House permanently. As submissions are posted, I will add them here or you can follow #zablife 2K celebration. If you enjoy dark fics, you're in the right place ❤ If not, you might want to follow Mrs. Shelby to the nearest exit.

My fics and moodboards

Meeting Arthur in the Wine Cellar

A Walk in the Garden with Heaven Shelby

Michael's Wedding Gift

Ruby's Tea Party

Drinks with Polly in the Parlor

Mary the Helpful Housekeeper

The Last Supper

Careless People

A Wrench in Our Plans

No Peace For You Ever

Ada's Tour of the Library

Thanks to all my lovely and talented moots who have contributed! ❤

Fics

An Evening at Arrow House by @there-goes-thefighter

The Attic by @noforkingclue

Bad Omen by @peakyswritings

Barbe Bleue by @notyour-valentine

Behind the Green Door interactive fic by @raincoffeeandfandoms

Betrayal short story by @cillmequick

The Choice by @look-at-the-soul

Codependent Siblings by @multifandomwriter56

In the Graveyard with Lilith Rose Shelby by @chaosinkest1996

Love in a Haunted House and Part 2 by @pacifymebby

Love Ritual by @call-sign-shark

Mrs. Francesca Shelby by @kmhappybunny240

Nightcap by @murderousginger

Nocturnal Me by @emotionalcadaver

Polly's Intuition by @the-makingsofgreatness

The Red Room by @evita-shelby

There's Something About These Grounds by @runnning-outof-time

Third Time Lucky by @brummiereader

When They Cry by @thegreatdragonfruta

Which One is Safe to Drink? game by @raincoffeeandfandoms

Moodboards and GIFs

An Evening at Arrow House by @cljordan-imperium

Arrow House Riddle by @moral-terpitude

The Brides by @thomashelbyswife

Butcher!Alfie by @alicent-targaryen

Dusk at Arrow House Stables by @holacia3

Nocturnal Me by @emotionalcadaver

Psycho!John by @alicent-targaryen

The Red Room by @evita-shelby

There's Something About These Grounds by @runnning-outof-time

Music recs

An Evening at Arrow House Playlist by @shelbydelrey

"Girl With One Eye" Florence + the Machine

"Francesca" Hozier

"A Heart Made of Yarn" Franz Gordon

"Dead Come Talking" Roe Kapara

"Me and the Devil" Soap and Skin

[hevexns-realm]

Runaway Idol.

( if you’re looking for part one: “first time here?”)

Over the past month, the Mari Jane casino has gotten a boost in customers due to Iris’ performances. Each performance being as good as the last. This in turn led to seelkadoom and Nazo to start coming to more of her shows when they have the opportunity.

Now, with a burst of customers, there’s always going to be some bad apples in the mix. Unfortunately for our main characters, these bad apples are after something quite valuable. Iris’ siren scales.

Iris just finished one of her shows and gotten a few more gifts. Ranging from pink and yellow roses to pretty colored jewelry to match her newfound Marilyn Monroe inspired dress. She sits down at the bar and looks over to seelkadoom with a shy smile, but seems to notice that Nazo is late tonight… she looks up and around before looking back at seelkadoom.

Iris: “hey, I thought your boyfriend was supposed to be picking you up..?”

Seelkadoom look over at her and smirks.

Seelk: “I got put onto a later shift than usual, so he won’t be here until maybe around 5:30. I appreciate the concern though, most wouldn’t really care enough to ask about that. Some even would even take the chance to flirt with me when he’s not around!”

He chuckles at the end as Iris looks at him concerned, playing with the rim of her wine glass as she looks at him.

Iris: “Awh, that’s horrible, but I’m glad you two are doing okay, you two are a really cute couple…!”

Seelk: “really?”

Iris blushes softly and looks away shyly before she nods.

Iris: “yeah, I admit that I find your relationship very sweet. I’m honestly a little jealous… I do hope I can find love like you two have one day…!”

She smiles softly and looks back at him, putting her chin in her hand as she looks off to the windows, showing the stars shining through. Suddenly, she can hear a hand being slammed down onto the bar. Making Iris jump slightly and shoots a look to the right of her. Seeing a human with what appears to be a handful of pills in his hand, being pinned down by seelkadoom as he rings up security via his walkie talkie. Once he finishes tipping security off, he looks at Iris with a smile.

Seelk: “don’t worry about him, I got this. Use these and check your drink.”

Seelkadoom hands Iris some drug test strips for drinks and security comes around and drags the man off with the pills in a bag as evidence. Another security guard stays behind to see if the drink got spiked. Thankfully, the drink wasn’t spiked with anything. However, seelkadoom decided to swap out the drink and glass regardless. Once he finished swapping out her drink, she looks up at him with a slight blush on her face.

Iris: “ah, thank you… not many would be so prepared for situations like these!”

Seelk: “Well, it’s protocol to report any and all incidents to security to handle, even ones such as these. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

She smiles softly before she notices Nazo walk into the casino. She holds her hand up and waves to him, calling out to him with her usual flirty smile.

Iris: “Hey Naz, over here!”

Nazo looks over and smiles at the two, giving them a small wave before he walks over and sits next to Iris.

Nazo: “just saw security drag a screaming guy out, I’m guessing it had something to do with you two?”

Seelkadoom chuckles and kisses Nazo’s cheek with a gentle smile as Iris sighs softly, watching them be so in love is so touching. Yet at the same time, it feels so lonely… maybe one day she can have what they have, but it’s better to focus on her career and newfound friends for now. As good times don’t last forever…!

Seelk: “you know it babe! Some human prick tried putting pill’s in Iris drink while she wasn’t looking!”

Iris nods and sips her red wine slowly, savoring the flavors in each sip.

Nazo: “huh, I knew some men were desperate, but damn. Some just don’t know how to handle their emotions well.”

Nazo looks over at Iris and looks like he’s about to say something, but is hesitant to ask. It’s kind of rude to assume why some people don’t want to end up in relationships, and he isn’t sure how to ask it.

Nazo: “is it okay if I ask you a slightly personal question?”

Iris sets her glass down and looks over at him with a smile.

Iris: “go on, I’m listening..!”

She leans onto the bar table with a small smile.

Nazo: “… I notice how popular you are with the men, you get a lot of expensive gifts, love letters, and more. So tell me, are you.. uh…”

Nazo looks away shyly before he and seelkadoom hear a small chuckle from Iris.

Iris: “You’re wondering why I’m still single, even being spoiled rotten by random men I don’t know?”

Nazo looks at seelkadoom and nods, carefully holding his hand.

Nazo: “I’m sorry if it’s a touchy subject, I couldn’t help but be curious.”

Iris: “oh, don’t worry about that sw-, Naz! I’m more than happy to answer your question!”

Nazo’s eyes widen slightly as she almost calls him sweetie. However, she seems embarrassed by the slip up. He smirks slightly and looks up at seelkadoom, giving his hand a squeeze as they listen to her answer.

Iris: “You see, when a woman like me comes around to perform, that’s what I’m here for. To perform and entertain the guests as a persona. The gifts are nice, yes. However, it doesn’t fill the void of my aquatic heart. I prefer emotional intelligence, good morals, and maybe a smooth voice and some good looks…! Besides, who doesn’t love getting spoiled with all the latest fashions if all I have to do is sing and dance around on stage while teasing some of them? It’s a win for me!”

She smiles softly and messes with her long quills as they listen to her answer, and seelkadoom nods in agreement.

Seelkadoom: “I can agree on that one, after all, most guys are shit! That’s why I’m glad I have this sweetheart here!”

Nazo blushes heavily and looks away as seelkadoom wraps his arms around Nazo and kissing his cheek.

Iris looks at Nazo’s face as she notices the purple blush on his face. Was it due to his blood being a different color or something?

Iris: “your blush…”

Nazo: “huh? Oh uh, yeah.”

Nazo clears his throat as he explains to Iris how his blush is purple instead of red.

Nazo: “my blood is actually purple in color. Trust me, it’s a lot less weirder when you see it. However, it’s due to the fact I’m made up of negative chaos energy. The chaos energy “corrupted” my blood in a sense, especially after so long being in this world, where negativity is everywhere. Although, I have made friends and loved ones who have made my life at least more barable.”

He looks up at seelkadoom and gently squeezes his hand. They look so in love and happy. While Iris is slightly jealous, she can’t help but smile at the sweet moment in front of her..

Iris: “awww, you two are so cute together!”

Iris kicks her legs a little bit as her face becomes red with a small blush. Her tail swaying around slightly. She can hear a small chuckle come from them as she feels the joy lifting from her system.

There was some silence in the air as Nazo stared at her tail. Something was off, usually most siren tails have some kind of satin finish. Her’s look metallic in finish, and were a bright blue in the lights.

Nazo: “actually Iris… you never really told us why you moved from one of the siren kingdoms to here. You said you were looking for a better life, but why come up here instead of another kingdom?”

Iris’ tail waves around slightly and she sips her wine carefully…

Iris: “… my father is a… A nobleman.. and tried getting me married off to an older siren when I hit 19. The guy was like, 3 times my age. So, with the help of my mother, I ran away from home. I knew none of the other kingdoms were safe because of his connections with the other royal families, so I journeyed all the ways here… I’m not proud of how I left, but it was the only way. I mean, if he wasn’t wanting to care for my basic needs and then marry me off to some stranger, then why should I have listened and stayed? I think it’s a taste of his own medicine to be honest.”

A look of surprise and concern form on the boys faces as they listen to her story. So she’s a runaway noble? They’ve heard stories of nobles running away from home and starting a new life for themselves. However, it was usually to be with the one they love, not for their own survival.

More questions arose. Did she have a place to sleep? Is she getting enough to eat? So many questions about her safety that almost made them not see the group of people behind her.

Seelkadoom perks up first to see the humans behind her.

Seelk: “excuse me, did you need something?”

No words were said before one of them grabs Iris and throws her over his shoulder in a swift movement before they start running off towards the door, with Iris freaking out and trying to get free.

Iris: “H-HEY, LET ME GO!!”

Seelk: “IRIS-“

Seelkadoom hops over the bar to try and get to the front door before they get out the door, but Nazo makes it ahead of time via chaos control, making the kidnappers stop dead in their tracks.

Nazo: “Going somewhere?”

Nazo takes off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves as seelkadoom stops right behind him, with security following soon after.

The group loads their guns and prepare for open fire, making everyone stop in their tracks.

???: “if any of you move, your little siren girlfriend is gonna get it!”

The guy shoves a pistol into Iris’ cheek, earning a wince of pain from her as she looks at the pistol at her cheek, and then at where nazo was standing… but then he was just gone… next thing she knew she was in the air after nazo kicked him in the back and then went onto the others. Leading her to fly in the air for a moment before getting caught by seelkadoom.

Seelkadoom stares down at the group from the air, seeing the siren hunter pins on their outfits as he floats down.

Seelk: “Ah, I see. You lot are siren hunters. Heh, I thought due to the law banning siren hunting you lot went extinct. Also, it’s rude to treat a lady like that. Do I need to teach you all some manners?”

???: “we were hired by-“

Nazo: “save it. You’re on private property, and you tried kidnapping one of the casino’s esteemed performers. You lot are going away for a long while.”

After the siren hunters were put under arrest and taken away. Nazo looks at the giant clock, it was 6:30AM, and the sun should be coming up soon.

Nazo: “jeez, we should really be heading home. Did you clock out yet seelk?”

Seelk: “shit- let me go do that!”

Seelkadoom carefully sets Iris down and rushes over to clock out before nazo looks at Iris.

Nazo: “do you want a ride home? My driver is nearby.”

Iris nods quickly.

Iris: “as a matter of fact, is it possible that I may stay with you two for the day? I understand the request is sudden, but if they know where I work, there’s a good chance they know which apartment I’m staying at too. I’ve heard horror stories about what siren hunters did to their captives… it’s horrible…”

Iris starts shaking slightly before feeling a hand on her shoulder.

Nazo: “I don’t blame you for being concerned about your safety. We’ll take you to my place, and then me and seelk will go check out your apartment to see if there’s any hunters there.”

Iris is… surprised by how quickly he accepted her request to stay with them. Yet she doesn’t complain. She’s too exhausted to even think about anything else.

So after seelkadoom is done clocking out and getting ready to go home. The three hop into Nazo’s limo and enjoy the sleepy drive back to his and seelkadoom’s home. After noticing Iris was passed out in the corner of the limo, Nazo takes his jacket and places it on her before he and seelkadoom cuddle all the way home.

Mutual tag list for my ✨AU with no name✨:

@hunniegl4zed @nutnbreaddo

[bellarosethefangirl]

Bucci gang x Reader Headcanons

Baking Their S/o A Valentines Surprise

Taglist:

@syntheticseraton1n @danielle-marie @shxftxng @noaltbruh

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, info here

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno would do his best to impress you so he's baking you a four tier double chocolate cake with valentines sprinkle's

He would plan out the sweet treat a week ahead to make sure he bought the best ingredients on the market

He's really good at baking and decorating desserts

He spent two days creating this lovely cake for you

He'll wear a cute pink floral apron with ladybug oven mitts

He got you a gift bag full of items you've had your eyes on for months

Giorno would wear a nice suit since he'd take you to a garden date after you both enjoy the cake

When presenting the cake to you he has a smile on his face and he went above and beyond by growing a vase of red roses too

Your glowing smile made all the time and effort he put into this surprise for you worth it

If you comment how delicious the cake is his eyes gleam with joy as he gives you a charming smile and kiss to your forehead

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia isn't the best cook but he can bake cookies, cakes, and brownies easily. He'll decide to bake you some vanilla cupcakes decorated in pink frosting and topped with conversation heart candies

He'd be rapping while listening to loud rap on his stereo. He'd dance as he's waiting for the cupcakes to bake or cool down.

Since you're not home he'd grab his gift he bought you from a music store. He'll have it ready for you by the cupcakes.

As he is decorating he's hoping for a hug and kiss from you

Once you're home you're greeted by an eager Narancia with a tower of Valentines cupcakes. His lips are puckered up causing you to giggle and kiss him. He combed his hair and wore cologne for you! He's so cute.

He'll watch as you enjoy your cupcake opening his gift for you

Your appreciation means a lot to him so he's so happy when you give him a hug

He's taking you on a movie date so he hopes you're ready for junk food and a movie together

Bruno Bucciarati

Of course he'd be a good baker. He'd bake your favorite type of cake then decorate it in a lovely Valentines theme topping it with a heart shaped store bought cookie

The man may be a capo but he made time for you since its Valentines day

He'll wear a zipper themed apron and his hair is in a bun as he is working on your cake. Smooth jazz is playing on his record player as he thinks about you. He misses you so much.

His apron is pretty dirty since he made you dinner too. He was sure to make your favorite meal. This man will surprise you with a romantic candle lit dinner with wine glasses and rose petals.

As he waits for the cakes to cool down he gets ready for you. He'll wear a suit and put his best suit on. He wants to impress you so of course he is going above and beyond.

After he is done getting ready the zipper apron is back on and he decorates while his stand cleans up the kitchen

The moment you arrive home Bruno greets you in the sweetest tone with a pet name. As your eyes widen at such a surprise his smile radiates the room.

You're no match against his arms wrapping around you. You thank him for everything with kiss.

He pushes your chair in for you and starts serving you the food he made. He's sure to remind you to leave room for the cake he made you. Your eyes light up seeing your favorite food and such a marvelous cake.

Bruno is happy to see you enjoy his cooking and the slice of cake he served you. You thank him with lots of kisses

Guido Mista

This man is a foodie and sure loves to cook. He will take inspiration from circus animal cookies and recreate them into heart shaped cookies for you. He'll top them with Valentine's sprinkles.

He thought cookies would be best so the leftovers could be easily saved in a cookie jar for later

He's got a chef hat and red zebra print apron whistling as he listens to the radio.

It takes him time to coat the cookies in the melted chocolate but he knows they'll turn out fine

After he is done decorating he'll write you a note, "Happy Valentines, sweetheart I baked you cookies. I'll be in the living room shortly. I have snacks and a movie waiting for you. Be there in a bit. Your man Mista-"

He takes a shower making sure he chose an expensive body wash. He wants cuddles after all

You try some cookies once you arrive home. His note didn't go unnoticed so you head to the living room.

You soon see Mista standing in front of you in a new pair of striped pants. He's shirtless with his arms out wide open for you.

As you're in his arms be sure to compliment him or fondle him. He loves it. He'll hold you in his arms as you both watch movies together.

If you thank him for the cookies or praise his baking he kisses your forehead and sweetly tells you, "Happy Valentines, love you babe"

Fugo Pannacotta

Fugo will choose a difficult dessert such as macaroons but he planned it a week prior so he's prepared

He will want them to be perfect! The heart shapes must be perfect too. He'll even give you three different fillings for each! If the heart shaped macaroons aren't symmetrical then he will redo them as many times as it takes

He bakes in the cutest red strawberry print apron with a small low ponytail showing off his strawberry earrings in the process. He'll also have the cutest matching baking mittens too.

He will read a book as he waits for them to bake and cool down

He'll think of different imagines of you reacting to your surprise. Murmuring responses to himself. "Yes belleza all for you!", "Oh you like my macaroons? What's that? A kiss?"

His favorite are secretly the beige colored macaroons with the red roses and lettering filled with, "I love you". He loves his handwriting and gets bashful about telling you he loves you

He'll neatly place them on a strawberry plate beside a large vase of flowers for you. He'll make sure they're your favorite type of flowers

When you arrive home and see the surprise he has such a pleased expression. His smile is super humble upon hearing your compliments. He hopes you kiss him.

If you do he starts to get love drunk. Half lidded purple eyes with a visible small blush.

He's so happy seeing your reactions to the flowers and dessert he made you

You two will watch a movie together while enjoying the macaroons.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio isn't much of a cook but he's decent when he wants to be. His baking skills are decent too. He desired to make the cookies because acts of service are his love language. He'll decide to make you sugar cookies

He'll make a small batch of the cookies decorating them in a nightmare before Christmas theme. He wants to be a little romantic and reference the couple from the movie. He hopes you understand the implication. He is a man of few words after all

His hair is in a ponytail as he bakes. He won't wear an apron but he will listen to music as he bakes and decorates the cookies

It took him quite a bit of time to decorate so he sure hopes you enjoy them.

He plans to take you to a restaurant when you arrive home

When you arrive and compliment or thank him he's eating up the attention. He will smile if he receives affection from you.

He got you a black rose and compliments you

If he see's you enjoy one he'll be happy. He isn't as into sweets so he won't try one

He'll undo his ponytail and ask you to get ready to go out. He's surprising you with your favorite restaurant

Trish Una

She decides to bake you some pink sugar cookies bars with cream cheese frosting and valentine's sprinkle's.

She has a very girly pink apron with her stereo playing her favorite CD. She sing's along as she bakes. Her sweet voice is so beautiful as she sings.

She'll have a big smile on her face as she thinks about you. She'll ever so often look over to the gift bag she has ready for you. It will have two expensive presents inside

She decides to bake you some pink sugar cookies bars with cream cheese frosting and valentine's sprinkle's.

She has a very girly pink apron with her stereo playing her favorite CD. She sing's along as she bakes. Her sweet voice is so beautiful as she sings.

She'll have a big smile on her face as she thinks about you. She'll ever so often look over to the gift bag she has ready for you. It will have two expensive presents inside

Trish will start singing about romance as she is frosting the cookie bars. She touches up her makeup and changes into a sexy dress.

Her lovely green eyes light up upon hearing you arrive at the door. She greets you by serenading you. She's feeling flirty if you get bashful or in a romantic mood. She will give you a kiss and direct you to her surprise.

Any response from you gives her joy. If you compliment her look she'll want affection. She'll love to see your reaction to the presents she bought you. If you greet her with a bouquet or gift she'll kiss and hug you as thanks

Afterwards you two are going to a high end restaurant in her limo

[spatialwave]

limoreau first valentine's day... walk with me!

a short and simple little drabble from marie’s pov. 🥹 finally have the energy to write a little something…… a month later.

jordan had ever spent their valentine’s day with a romantic partner. someone to kiss, cuddle and spoil with chocolates, flowers or a nice dinner. the day was often full of loneliness that they bottled up and pretended that it didn’t bother them when they saw couples holding hands, or how fancy restaurants were full of people in love sharing wine and desserts.

marie always wanted a valentine’s day like the ones she remembers her parents preparing for — sitting on her mother’s bed and watching her delicately adorn herself with jewelry. The way her hand was so careful and steady as she curled her lashes and added a few coats of mascara before blotting her reddened lips with tissue. oh how marie would sit with wide eyes and a big smile as the two of them wished their daughters a goodnight as the babysitter prepared them a simple meal for dinner.

this year would prove to be different for both of them. they had settled into the comfort of their relationships, months of steady dates and nights spent together. sharing secrets and admitting their silly fears, or guilty pleasures. the two of them were slowly getting to know each other inside and out.

that’s why valentine’s day made them both so fucking nervous.

it was jordan who proved to be quite eager and arranged the date before marie even had the chance, two weeks earlier letting her know that she should clear her schedule for the evening and dress nice. they thought that beat her to it. the bouquet of roses being delivered to them in class proved otherwise — cheeks burning a deep red when they saw the note attached and their classmates watched in awe.

“see you tonight. love, m.”

both of them had chosen to keep away from each other for the day, wanting to prove that absence makes the heart grown fonder.

all it really did was make marie nervous as she sat in the floor length mirror in her dorm with emma, her makeup bag opened on the floor and her braids pulled back. the nauseating feeling of an anxious stomach made her groan.

“god! you’ve been sitting there for half an hour. just let me do it!” he roommate grumbled from her bed before jumping down onto the floor and settling next to marie. she turned her friend around and sighed softly, admiring the way she was so nervous and fidgeting, “marie… sit still.”

an hour had passed when marie was dressed, a red dress hugging her curves that ended just above the knee and a black leather coat cropped just above her hips. she was thankful for emma’s expertise when it came to shopping, god knows that marie missed out on a few years worth of america’s most trending styles.

after a few minutes of panic and a quick pep talk from emma, marie found herself waiting in front of the dormitories as she looked around the snow-covered surroundings as the sun had almost completely set. her hands clutched onto a small purse that she borrowed from emma, nails digging into the fabric as she tried to focus on the way the cold air entered her nose with each gentle breath.

“damn—“ a low voice said from behind her, brown eyes widening as she quickly turned and met face to face with her partner. they had been on so many dates, but this was so new. so nerve wracking. even jordan, who’s breath was taken away, looking anxious.

“i, uh,” marie lets out an awkward, breathy laugh with a smile that reaches her eyes, “you too. damn.” she says, kind of grimacing at the way it sounded so silly coming from her.

“i’m so lucky.” is all jordan says through a heavy breath as a slight smirk rises to their lips. they close the distance between each other, a hand finding its way to her hip and lips meeting in a kiss. one that lingered longer than intended and left them both a little breathless and almost eager to continue then and there, “i missed you all day,” they spoke against her lips before pulling away, still remaining close, “thanks for the flowers.”

she let her eyes drop down for a moment, sheepish and shy — her demeanour akin to the time they had their first date.

“well, you beat me to making plans. couldn’t let you take all the glory of the day for yourself.” marie smiled, meeting their gaze as she straightened up and chewed absentmindedly on her bottom lip.

“fair enough,” jordan breathed out with a gentle laugh, their hand sliding so easily into marie’s grasp, “you don’t mind if it take it back, right? i mean, i outdid myself tonight.” they boasted proudly, tugging marie along as they made way for the student parking lot.

“yeah, okay,” she playfully scoffed, “maybe wait to brag until i actually have a good time.” she chided him as they stepped over the fresh powder snow that settled on the ground during the day. a trail of footprints leading to jordan’s car as they teased each other.

“trust me, babe. you’ll have a good time.” jordan snorted as they settled inside the vehicle.

marie, did in fact, have a really good time.

[thetinyreviews]

The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray Chapter 2

This is a collection of my favourite quotes and thoughts about them.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

"There is no such thing as a good influence, Mr. Gray. All influence is immoral -- immoral from the scientific point of view." (…) "Because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul." Lord Henry to Dorian, page 73

I mostly never know what to think of Lord Henry's thoughts because he's so right but yet so disturbing.

"I will go out to the garden with you. It is horridly hot in the studio. Basil, let us have something iced to drink, something with strawberries in it." Lord Henry, page 76

In literature, strawberries often symbolize temptation, purity, and innocence, due to their sweet taste and bright red colour.

"Lord Henry went out the garden, and found Dorian Gray burying his face in the great cool lilac-blossoms, feverishly drinking in their perfume as if it had been wine." Page 76

Lilacs symbolize youth, innocence, and first love, especially in Western literature. Their fleeting blooms reflect themes of transience and nostalgia, often symbolizing the fleeting nature of young love (perhaps a foreshadowing of Dorian's love for Sybil Vane). They can also carry a sense of mystery, especially in Gothic literature, as their scent and beauty invoke a kind of haunting elegance.

"Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses." Lord Henry to Dorian Gray, page 78

Lilies frequently symbolize purity, innocence, and virtue, especially in Christian literature. They are often associated with the Virgin Mary and are emblematic of chastity and spiritual beauty. In classical literature, lilies can represent mortality and resurrection, symbolizing the soul's journey from death to rebirth. This duality makes them both a symbol of purity and a reminder of death. Roses are among the most symbolically rich flowers, representing love, passion, and beauty. Red roses, in particular, are universally associated with romantic love and desire.

"How sad it is!" murmured Dorian Gray, with his eyes still fixed upon his own portrait. "How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrid, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June… If it was only the other way! If it was I who were to be always young, and the picture that were to grow old! For this-- for this-- I would give everything! Yes: there is nothing in the whole world I would not give!" Dorian Gray, page 82

Nothing much to say but good foreshadowing.

"Yes," he continued "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes, or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know now that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I will kill myself." Dorian Gray to Basil, page 82-3

Even if Basil loves Dorian, I've always believed he loves a shallow version of the boy. Does he really know who Dorian is? Does he think he's more than his good looks?

"Man is many things, but he is not rational." Lord Henry, page 84

Rationality isn't a human thing. We are too much of a victim of our emotions, and they cloud everything around us.