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dreammfyre · 4 months ago

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the heir's favorite ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of the marriage between your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen and your father Daemon Targaryen. Always the most rebellious and difficult of all, temperamental, impulsive. However, weak before the temptation to possess your older brother, the crown prince Jacaerys Velaryon, a knight par excellence, the opposite of you. But no one in Dragonstone imagined that you shared much more than dragon's blood.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister). Jacaerys aggressive and dominant. Smut. Based on the second season of House Of the Dragon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. This was a suggestion left anonymously in the messages, so I invite you to leave yours. Thanks for reading.

The empty room was so quiet that you could feel your thoughts could be heard all over the place. The full moon illuminated the dark sky, standing out against the stars that night where everyone was resting in their chambers, but you were unable to lie in your bed, much less fall asleep without having nightmares. The Stone Table was where everyone met daily to discuss strategies for the war that was being unleashed in Westeros, but now that empty place was strange, so much silence and loneliness. The extinguished embers did not illuminate the tabletop, you touched the stone expecting to burn, however, it was totally cold.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice entered the place. You turned immediately finding Prince Jacaerys, your older brother and heir to your mother's throne. "Sister... it's very late."

"I know, you should be resting." You replied walking towards him.

"It's a bit complex lately." He took the luxury of joking, in response you smiled without much encouragement. "May I know what you're doing here?"

"Not much. Seems to me you're not the only one who doesn't get any rest." You lifted your shoulders casually. "Any news on your rounds?"

Jacaerys shook his head in disappointment, pacing around the table resting his hands on the handle of his sword without taking his eyes off you, analyzing your presence carefully, as if silently judging you. You rested your hands on the stone of the table relaxing your body on your arms, but your head couldn't stop scheming hundreds of thoughts and bloody imaginary scenarios regarding the war.

"Cole's army is getting bigger and bigger and we don't have a damn clue about anything." You said with a tense jaw. "And about my father..." you sighed deeply without looking your brother in the face "no word from him for days."

"That's not your fault." Jace tried to make you feel better with repeated kind words, but your guilt was growing and the anguish of the approaching war wouldn't leave you alone. "Daemon is not the priority."

"That idiot should be here, on the island, with his queen and his children." You whispered angrily. Then you looked up resolute in your decision. "I'll go see him tomorrow."

That didn't sit well with your brother.

"Don't talk nonsense, Visenya." The heir scoffed. "You can't go to Harrenhal alone, it's too dangerous and we don't know if the way is clear."

"You think I'll arrive by land alongside Daemon's imaginary army?" you sneered in the same condescending manner, a brazen gesture that made Jacaerys' blood boil. "I will ride Vermithor's back at dawn and arrive before the sun peaks. I will return the same day with news before the queen."

"That's a lousy idea!" Your brother exclaimed angrily. Grabbing your arm with brute force, forcing you to look him. "How can you even think of traveling alone to lands we don't know if they are enemies or allies?"

"We need to move fast before they come for us, Jacaerys." You squirmed under his grip feeling his fingers bury into your pale skin. "Do you intend to wait for my father to return?" you managed to break free from his grip with difficulty, Jacaerys ran a hand through his wavy hair desperate not to talk sense into you. "Because you may take a seat, I will not be accompanying you."

"Visenya, please understand the magnitude of your stupidity." He begged, chasing you from side to side. Your brother knew how impulsive you were, and how hard it was for you to get an idea out of your head, no matter if it was good or bad and in this case it was a rather dangerous one. "What happens if you cross paths with Vhagar in the skies?" The prince raised his voice to you demanding and imperative trying to intimidate you, anyone passing nearby could overhear your discussion. You turned your back to him, you didn't want to look him in the face out of embarrassment because deep down you knew his words were true. "You have no business there!"

"I have no business here either!" you exclaimed with the same intensity. You were temperamental by nature and now you were blowing off steam. "I'm tired of staying cooped up on the island, waiting for others to figure things out! I'm a dragon rider, and I'm constrained by these walls."

Your brother understood that feeling better than anyone, he grabbed you by both cheeks, covering your face with his firm hands.

"I know how you feel, Visenya. Believe me, but walking out at the first impulse is not the solution, don't you understand?" You put your hands over his, looking at him intently. You wanted to nod to answer him the question he asked you, but you were mesmerized in his nearness and his breath hitting your face. "Stay here, with us." He watched you carefully without letting go, losing himself in the sense of his pleas to look at you closely, you were so beautiful in any light no matter how dim, a Targaryen through and through with bright, intense violet eyes of long white hair like your parents. Jacaerys couldn't help but stare at you, the half-open lips tempting him to taste you, trying not to lose what little composure he had left. "With me."

You possessed the ethereal beauty of your mother and the complex character of your father, Daemon Targaryen. Under your little ethics and impulsiveness you did not think if it was a coherent idea and you threw yourself to kiss the thick lips of your brother who reciprocated instantly, none of them reasoned, they only moved to the rhythm of the kiss where their moist lips brushed anxiously. Your brother's hand on your waist took you by surprise, more so when he pressed you against his body bumping you against his chest and cornering you against the table.

"Go to sleep." Jace scolded you making an attempt to stop kissing you, but you kept reaching for him. "This isn't a good place."

With a smile you ignored knowing the only way to stop the situation was for you to go to your quarters and you didn't feel like leaving. You grabbed her hair tangling your fingers in her chestnut curls, Jacaerys strength intimidated you, but it wasn't enough to stop you.

"Don't go to Harrenhal." He pleaded leaving kisses on your neck, tracing a wet path over your skin taking advantage of inhaling your scent. "Do it and I promise I will warm your bed every night."

You felt a shiver run down your back at his offering, Jacaerys kept leaving kisses until he reached your collarbones uncovered by the neckline of your dress. His warm lips made your heart beat faster, you grabbed him by the face stopping him.

"Would you do that for me?" you asked with dangerous innocence, watching his glossy swollen lips.

"Do you really doubt it?" he answered against your ear, then brushed his nose against yours slowly, you left a short kiss on his lips almost by instinct, so tender and unexpected that you heard a laugh come out of the prince.

"I'll think about it." You whispered touching his chest, playing with the textures of the fabrics, his agitated breathing gave him away, having you close was a personal challenge for the prince. It was a lie, you weren't going to think about it, you just wanted to give him what he needed to hear to stay with you.

Jacaerys' big hands began to take hold of your body squeezing you tightly making you gasp, then you lifted your chin giving him access to your neck, the kisses there unsettled you in a special way and only your brother knew it, taking advantage of your weakness, listening closely to his breathing and feeling the warmth of his breath was much better. Everything about him you liked, and you were missing him lately. The pressure and uncertainty of the war had taken your head elsewhere, you had abandoned each other for valid reasons, but at that second you just wanted to give yourself to him one more time.

You stood on your tiptoes to gain a little more height reaching for his ear, your brother tensed at the delicate touch of your hot tongue against his lobe, you licked delicately knowing that it turned him on, he confessed it to you one night and you never forgot it. A deep moan of satisfaction came from his throat, then carefully, you lowered one of your hands straight down to his pants, positioning yourself over his hard member that was pressing against the fabric.

"This is not the best place." Begged the prince resting his forehead on your shoulder. "We are in a sacred place, you know?"

You cared little for his insistence or decency when you only wanted to shout his name, though you knew Jacaerys was asking you to stop for the sake of not failing in duty, not because the desire wasn't there. No one understood the reason why Rhaenyra did not cancel the stupid engagement between Lady Baela and the right Jacaerys, no one could deny that they could become blameless kings for the history of Westeros, but there would never be the tension and burning desire throbbing as when the fire was unleashed between you. That first time with a taste of sin, you begging him not to stop, that it was going to become a one-time secret that his parents would never find out, a secret they couldn't help but repeat between your sheets and his, in the hallways and in the library.

Desperate, your brother lifted the skirt of your dress with your help by grabbing your leg and pulling it up to his waist. The mere contact made you moan from the pleasure, you clamped your mouth shut to keep from making noise, you were too sensitive and needy and Jacaerys liked to have you under his control. You were always sarcastic, upset and nasty, just like your dragon, but Jacaerys Velaryon knew how to control you.

"What are you going to do if someone finds out about us?" You asked with bated breath. Deep down it was important to keep the secret guarded to keep it. Jacaerys' fingers stroking between your legs making you jump, clinging to the heir's neck and leaning against the table. "What are they going to say when they find out the crown prince fucking his sister."

His fingers slowly moved up and down, playing with your slimy wetness between his fingers. The mischievous grin on the chestnut's face only reflected the satisfaction of having managed to have you like this, so submissive to him.

"Does it scare you?" he whispered against your moaning lips. With his other hand he gripped the back of your neck tightly, so you wouldn't move. "They're going to find out you're my spoiled sister." Two of his long fingers began to search for the perfect place to insert themselves into you. You stirred under his grip settling in for him, your desperate breathing needing him to finish his work, but he seemed very calm provoking you with his words. "Do you know what they'll call you?" he bit your lip, pulling it towards him. "The heir's whore." His fingers slipped inside you so easily, sliding into your wet insides gushing moans from your chest as you felt him move in and out of you. Jacaerys took your leg his free hand clutching his fingers to your thigh preventing you from closing before him.

At the first loud moan you covered your mouth immediately knowing you were attracting attention, the sensation between your legs was stronger. You squeezed your brother's shoulder getting used to the movement of his fingers inside you.

"Don't yell." He ordered uncompromisingly. He had to kiss you to shut you up, which served you a few short minutes. You were losing your mind, your legs wanted to close but Jace put his foot down to stop that from happening.

"Jacaerys." His name on your lips excited him more than anything else, for it was the tone of desperation that mirrored your desire. To know that he controlled you and you were under his dominion with how arrogant you were, that no knight owned you, that everyone desired you for being Rhaenyra's spoiled daughter, but you were his, no matter an arranged marriage or duty was enough. "Mmh." You ran your hand over your face, desperate to keep silent fighting against your body that was beginning to tremble as his fingers went faster.

But for an ego like Prince Jacaerys Velaryon's it wasn't enough. Listening to you enjoy yourself on the Stone Table where every day they met to discuss war strategies was the most satisfying image to his eyes and he was not going to be able to forget it. The way you moved, dragon-like, the sweetest and most desperate noises came from you, none of the whores he had been with compared to the delicacy of a pureblood Targaryen. A unique and unrepeatable privilege.

When your breathing became erratic and the murmurs incomprehensible swearing you were going to reach that peak, Jacaerys came to a screeching halt chastising you. You opened your eyes in disappointment and fury, your heart leaping out of your chest and your legs damp and trembling.

"Be a good sister," he stroked your cheek with the gentleness you deserve to be treated with. You were trying to listen to him but you were so upset you just wanted to insult him for doing that to you. "Turn around."

Your hair stood up at his tone of voice demanding and conciliatory at the same time. As obedient as ever, just for him, you turned your back to him as the prince busied himself with pulling down his pants that were pressing against the erection he was trying to contain. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, you could still feel his long fingers inside you and the wait, however minimal, was becoming eternal and torturous. You looked sideways at the entrances of the place without finding anyone, but the truth is that you didn't care if at that moment the queen arrived and found them like that, the euphoria and adrenaline was taking over your body and your reason, the overflowing desire had taken your actions. You felt Jace's hands sneaking up your skirt, careful where to touch, looking for just the right position to enter. He stood behind you, your dress pulled up over your back, the mere touch made you moan. You were so wet it was slipping from your entrance.

"Don't say anything." He told you and you nodded, you were capable of begging if necessary, though deep down you knew he enjoyed it making you obey. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

You closed your eyes as you felt Jacaerys slowly push behind you. You took a breath and tried to relax, you both moaned slowly, the prince tensed his jaw and clenched his teeth to keep from making noise, he stayed still for a few seconds searching for your hips digging his fingers into your skin trapping you in that position, moving you back and forth to better thrust. The rubbing of his member on your walls felt warm and wet, an invasion of your body, you were so used to his size that the sensation became familiar, literally. Some of the pieces of stone you unintentionally threw away, that was going to be a problem for later, because now the noise of their bodies colliding was beginning to consume you. The control he had over you didn't bother you, he gripped you tightly taking over everything. Her hips moved with yours instinctively in a delicious back and forth.

"Like this." You gasped with closed eyes and a satisfied expression. You reached for his hand under your dress and clung to him as tightly as Jace clung to you.

His length pumped in and out of you at a rapid pace, but this time, Jacaerys made sure each thrust was deep by ramming his pelvis into your buttocks.

"What a pleasure to meet again, don't you think?" his question was punctuated by your same panting without stopping moving. You weren't able to answer, your high-pitched moans were getting louder and louder, putting both of you at risk. On the other hand, he was breathing heavily. You had to cover your mouth with your hand, biting your palm to stifle your own moans of pleasure at having him inside you.

You started to stir but you were trapped in his hands, he knew you well enough to know what to do, you turned to look at him finding the heir ramming you with force and speed, his hair fell in curls that moved to the rhythm of his rhythm, when their gazes met for a second he stared at you, your face sweating, your eyes bright with a frown of supplication and red cheeks were enough to have no mercy. Your entrance was tightening at the same time you couldn't breathe, that feeling of a wave invading your insides begging for more desperate to reach orgasm. Jacaerys took your with one hand your waist and with the other your hip, encasing his fingers preventing you from escaping, you were in this together and you had to finish it.

You moved your arm and disarranged the pieces on the board. Now you could hear your brother moaning, cursing you for being his undoing and the greatest of his sins, making you his own feeling the power to mark you and deflower you breaking any tradition that governs the Targaryen nobility. It felt so good that you could confess your love to him just so he wouldn't stop. Luckily for both of you, he didn't stop, the rapid movements and the pressure forming in your lower stomach was getting out of control, the noise intensifying from the collision of your bodies and your knees seemed to lose any kind of strength to hold you up, luckily the table was there to support your body, plus your brother who wasn't going to let you fall. Until you couldn't manage to resist anymore, your orgasm came first like a shiver throughout your body, you closed your eyes tightly and watching you exclaim his name in screams of pleasure ended the infinite torture of the heir that took a few seconds to wait.

"Shit." Your voice hopefully came out of your dry mouth. You had your chest against the weight crushing your breasts, one of your hands intertwined with your brother's who was rebounding behind you.

You both took a second to take a breath and assimilate what you had just done, you had promised not to fall into carnal sin again and that's why the last time was several months ago. You leaned on the table with both hands coming back into yourself with your chest heaving, your brother's hands were still in the same place but he was no longer squeezing you with the same possessive intensity. Your hair was falling on both sides, tousled from the movement and your legs were begging you for a rest.

Jacaerys caught his breath, but his heart had not calmed down at all. His body was still experiencing those chills and that unique tension, he took a step backwards out of your body to get dressed. You immediately felt the fluid trickle down the inside of your thighs, dripping slowly down your hot skin.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked pulling up his pants, his movements a little uncontrolled as the adrenaline was still pumping. You nodded fixing your wrinkled dress. It wasn't the first time it had happened, you both knew what it was, that meant you would have to have tea the next morning.

"Looks like I'll be staying."

Your older brother smiled, fixed his hair pulling it back and moving closer to kiss you again, this time slower and softer, trapping your lips with his so slowly that you relaxed. You took his face kissing him again, his scent, his warmth, his bearing that forced you to lift your chin to reach your mouth, the softness of his lips, it was the most comforting sensation you knew.

"Go rest." He whispered without opening his eyes. Tidying your hair behind your ear.

"Okay." You replied in the same tone, so obedient and submissive before him, kissing for the last time his mouth following your movement. "Good night"

Leaving him was complicated, but you were satisfied with the encounter. As you walked you felt the burning between your legs, a reminder that was to last a couple of days that he had made you his once more, that was the greatest secret they kept hidden, they had forgotten for a moment the war between families, the political problems, duty and order.

Jacaerys Velaryon watched you go, silently picking up the sword he had dropped to the ground. That simple symbol that he was capable of abandoning his duty as prince for you, he staked his honor and his word for taking you. He stayed a while longer tidying up the mess they had created, arranging the pieces of stone in the place that corresponded according to the figure, picking up from the floor some that fell without realizing it. It was he who always assumed the role of responsibility for cleaning up the mess and pretending nothing had happened. How was he going to show up tomorrow at this very spot knowing he had relations with Visenya, the spoiled and arrogant princess, right there?

He only hoped Daemon Targaryen would never discover that his daughter was the heir's favorite if he wished to one day ascend the throne.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months ago

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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {7}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A short skip over the winter break and into 2024 season.. Warnings: 18+ only, fluffies WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight

Christmas Eve 2023 - French Alps The air was still when you woke to a fresh dumping of snow on the mountain. The window provided a picture of tranquillity and the embers in the fire gave a peaceful glow to the dark wood walls. Charles had disappeared at dawn for a morning ski with Arthur and you squinted against the white glare to try and find them on the mountainside.

You probably could have gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for the door crashing open and the sudden weight of a child on your legs. Penelope crawled up to the headboard with a squeal and jumped into your arms as Max just reached the bedroom door.

“P, watch out for auntie’s tummy,” Max reminded. She now had to watch out for yours and Aunt Vicky’s tummy, since your sister had announced her pregnancy a few weeks ago. “Sorry, she slept the whole flight so she’s full of energy. I tried to get her to play with Luka but she wanted you.”

“That’s okay,” you said as she burrowed under the blankets and put her cold feet on Lando’s back. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

Penelope nodded eagerly while Lando slowly woke and you were grateful he was wearing a hideous pair of santa-themed pyjama pants. With even more children around for Christmas this year, everyone had taken to wearing pyjamas. It was good for moments like these, but bad for quick access when you were spooning in the night.

“Papa let me open some presents early!”

Max disappeared out of the room with a wave, heading back to his suite with Kelly down the hall. The small mountain retreat had been completely rented out for another combined family holiday and at the rate the Norris’, Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s were procreating, an entire resort would be needed to host you all next year. Your bet was on Max and Lorenzo becoming fathers next.

“How exciting! And what did you get?”

Penelope held out her arm to show a mermaid inspired charm bracelet. “That’s beautiful!”

“It’s got Ariel!” she exclaimed, pointing to a red haired mermaid as she bounced excitedly.

“Is that an earthquake?” Lando asked as he scooped the little girl up into a hug. “No, it’s little P. Why are you waking your favourite uncle up so early?”

“You’re not my favourite,” she said with a fit of giggles.

Lando hung his head and shook it with fake sadness. “Kids are brutal.”

“Kids are honest,” you corrected before kissing his pout away.

“Gross,” P said as she screwed up her face and started to climb off the bed to find ‘Maxie’. She did a sudden u-turn and scrambled across the bed to gently touch your stomach before leaning closer and whispering, “Bye-bye, baby. Love you.”

She was gone again, this time the door swinging shut as she left with no farewell for you or Lando. He let out a little chuckle as he pushed you back into the pillows and drifted down the bed, taking the blankets with him.

“Hello, baby,” he murmured softly to the bump. At just more than half way along your bump could no longer be mistaken for overindulgence or bloating. “You are looking lovely and round this morning.”

“Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a lady,” you chuckled as you combed your fingers through his hair.

“Shh, I��m having a conversation with my daughter, no eavesdropping,” he warned with a smirk before brushing your shirt up and pressing a kiss to your skin before continuing his conversation. The moustache and shaped beard he was slowly but surely growing thicker tickled with each whispered word, the movement of his lips dragging the coarse hairs over your sensitive skin until goosebumps prickled.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he said with a smile as the door creaked open and Charles walked in with wind-kissed cheeks. “I just want to hurry up and hold you.”

“Patience, mon cher,” Charles said with a grin, depositing the second layer of cashmere he had worn under his ski jacket on the coat hook. “It’s only four more months.”

Lando groaned at the reminder before shifting on the bed to make space for Charles.

“Anything you want to add this morning?” you asked.

You reached for the hem of the shirt, ready to pull it down if it was a no when a knock had you freeze. No, it wasn’t a knock. The thud hadn’t come from outside, but inside. You dropped the shirt and stared at the jut of your hip, right where the skin went soft as it stretched up to your ribs. That soft tissue bulged ever so slightly as you felt the strange sensation of pressure and it drew a gasp that shocked your boyfriends.

“What? What is it?” Lando asked, his voice thick with concern.

“Give me your hand,” you ordered, already reaching for one of each as you placed them on the spot. “Shhh, just shhh.”

You felt it again and Charles exhaled a shaky breath that ended in a joyous laugh before grabbing Lando’s hand and shifting it slightly.

“Wha-”

“Shh,” you urged as Charles pressed a finger to his lips. The silence grew and everyone held their breath, waiting.

The air wooshed from Lando with an exclamation, “No fucking way!” His eyes grew wide and he stared at his palm as if the imprint of his daughter’s foot was permanently held on his skin. “Holy shit! She…she…kicked.”

Charles wrapped an arm around Lando as their shimmering eyes met yours. Pure happiness saturated the room, spilling out into the hall as the door opened and Oliver appeared a little worried. “Everything okay? I thought I heard Lando screeching.”

“Everything’s perfect,” Lando grinned, ignoring the joke he had heard since hitting puberty.

“She just started kicking,” Charles explained with an equally bright grin, while you danced your fingers along your side, trying to tickle her foot.

“Core memory unlocked, huh?” Oliver laughed at his brother’s eagerness, remembering the first kicks with his own daughters. “Breakfast is ready when you are.”

“Thanks, we’ll be there soon,” Charles said as Oliver closed the door again.

“Do we have to?” Lando asked as he curled back down and stared at your stomach intently. “I could watch this all day.”

“You can stay but I am hungry, and she is now shy,” you teased as you pulled your shirt back into place and climbed out of bed. With a groan he followed you to the walk-in wardrobe, just like you knew he would.

“Is the powder good?” Lando asked Charles while they changed into some casual day clothes perfect for the warm interior of the retreat.

“It’s perfect,” Charles all but moaned, it was hard to believe they were talking about snow but both of them loved to ski. “Arthur wants to head back out after lunch.”

Lando looked at you and you waved a hand. “Sheesh, babe, I’m not your keeper. You can go if you want.”

Lando hated being away the most, not that Charles enjoyed it, but there wasn’t the same level of separation anxiety that Lando had. “I don’t want to leave you here on your own.”

“On my own?” you laughed and slipped your feet into some simple flats before heading to the door. As soon as it opened the cacophony of everyone congregating in the great room down the hall spilled into your room. “I couldn’t be on my own if I tried.”

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxvertappen1, maxfewtrell and 1,382,589 others yourusername This kid scored the gene pool the lottery. Merry Christmas from my family to yours.

Round One - Bahrain 2024 Fuel fumes drifted up from the pitlane to the balcony you stood upon as the start of the season's first race grew closer. It was strange to look down the entire length of billboards and see no new faces among the driver line up. Fernando still filled the garage beside Lance, but you held no resentment for your replacement. He was making the most out of an opportunity and it almost gave you hope that even after leaving Formula 1, maybe - just maybe - there was a way to get back in.

Next year would be interesting with so many contracts up for renewal. It was a chance to see new faces on the grid, or perhaps some old faces returning if rumours were to be believed. You wouldn’t mind seeing Sebastian make a return. For the moment, everyone was still too busy talking about Lewis and his move to Ferrari to give much thought to the other shocks that might come with the disruption. The open seat at Mercedes was going to be sought after by every driver stuck in a midfield car.

“You look deep in thought.”

You broke away from staring at the starting lights to accept a cup of herbal tea from your mother. “Just thinking about how the grid will look next year.”

“Gotta get through this one first,” she reminded. “Speaking of…it’s going to be hard having a newborn at home with those two away so much.”

“I know,” you sighed, resting your arms on the balcony rail as you blew the steam from the mug. The wall calendar at home was already marked with the first half of the season, all the nights Lando and Charles would be away circled in red ink. It had been collectively agreed that flying with a newborn wasn’t a great idea so you would only attend the races you could drive to until she was at least three months old. “This year’s calendar is fucking intense.”

“I want you to know you can call me day or night, sweetie, and I’ll be on the next plane.” She reached for your chin and turned you to face her as your throat clogged with emotion. “I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to do on your own, you saw it firsthand.”

“You’ve got your own life, I don’t want you to drop it all for me.”

She laughed softly and wrapped you in a careful hug. “You’re my daughter, you are my life, my granddaughter is too.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled and wiped your eyes, seeing the cameras in the pitlane pointed your way. “Gah, you made me cry. Now I’ll be on fucking Drive to Survive. I can already see the subtitles ‘Y/N crying as the season starts without her’. Wankers.”

Your mother narrowed her eyes at the camera and flipped them off, making you choke on a laugh. “So much maturity for a grandmother.”

“Yeah well I have been wanting to do that for a while, and I figure I can’t get you fired since you’re unemployed.”

You shared a grin and thought maybe you had more in common than you realised. You thought your fight came from Jos but now you saw a flash of it in her protectiveness and your chest warmed.

“I’m not unemployed, I’m a Lady of Leisure.” You laughed at the roll of her eyes before adding. “I might even get a Birkin for a push present to complete the initiation.”

“What the hell is a push present?”

“It’s a present a new mother gets for destroying her vagina pushing a baby out.”

It was her turn to choke on a laugh. “That’s a thing?”

“Apparently so.”

“Does the baby not count as a gift?”

“Hmm, maybe you should go ask them?” you said as you jutted your head to the plethora of influencers walking around the grid taking selfies with everyone. She wrinkled her nose at the idea, quite content to stay out of the fray like you.

“No, thank you. Oh, there they are.”

You scanned the crowd and saw Max, Charles, and Lando walking out to the grid together, their heads huddled close as they tried to hear each other over the crowd. They made a beeline to the strips of red carpet and Max stood between the other two as they took their places for the national anthem.

“Looks like the podium lineup to me,” your mother whispered.

You chewed your lip and hoped the data from testing was as promising as it looked for McLaren and Ferrari. But you could never tell quite how much of it was real with the strategies and sandbagging. “I hope so, my boy’s need a good start this year.”

Click here for the next part.

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burstfoot · 6 months ago

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Hello! Here's an update on all of Arknights' currently accessible auxiliary material as of May 2024! There's plenty to check out, so I hope this is helpful for some!

Animation

Arknights Prelude To Dawn (S1) and Perish in Frost (S2): [Crunchyroll]

An adaptation of the main story, up through Chapter 0 to Chapter 6! It's much more fast-paced than the in-game story, so I wouldn't use it to replace actually reading it, but it's very cool to see some of these scenes in full animation. Season 3, Arknights: Rise from Ember, has been announced! Lee's Detective Agency: [Youtube]

A mini-series animated in a chibi style with a comedic tone. Focused on the adventures of the Kuroblood-illustrated Lee's Detective Agency! Distributed by Crunchyroll globally, but entirely free to watch.

Closure's Secret Files: [Youtube]

A cut-out styled series of shorts hosted by Closure which outlines a lot of the game's basic mechanics!

Holy Knight Light: [Youtube]

A short OVA focusing around Penguin Logistics delivering a package, celebrating Arknights' first anniversary. Officially posted to Youtube!

Kay's Daily Doodles: [Youtube]

Another free, comedic Youtube mini-series, posted to the offical Arknights Youtube account and focused around Ceobe! Here's some additional animations! Each event usually also has a 15 second 2D animated preview of the event, but there's so many of those that I can't list them all. Anniversary Event 3D Animations: Zwillingstürme im Herbst So Long, Adele Lone Trail Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow Il Siracusano Ideal City Stultifera Navis Invitation To Wine Near Light Dossoles Holiday Under Tides Bonus 3D Animated Shorts: Legend of Chongyue Arknights Special - IL Siracusano Lo Scontro Youtube Shorts: Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 1 Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 2 Amiya's Siracusan Food Guide Part 1 Amiya's Siracusano Food Guide Part 2 Amiya's Special Gift Doctor's Gifts in Return 1 Doctor's Gifts in Return 2

Comics, Manga, Manhua

Officially Translated:

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Rhine Lab: [Offical Source]

A canon manhua centered around the circumstances that lead to Silence falling out with Saria and joining Rhodes Island with Ifrit, as well as Ifrit's attempt to save a dying infected stowaway on the landship. Essential reading for understanding the Rhine Lab storyline and characters - read it right after Mansfield for when it was chronologically released! One of the characters, Darya, is mentioned in both Ifrit's module and briefly in Lone Trail.

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Blacksteel: [Official Source]

A short story focusing on the lives of the Blacksteel operators aboard the landship. While it often gets overshadowed by the Rhine Lab manga which is bigger in scope, this is a great read especially if you're interested in Franka or Liskarm.

Rhodes Kitchen -TIDBITS-: [Official Source]

An anthology story related to the cuisine that's important to a variety of operators. While it might seem unassuming, the art is gorgeous and it's really well-written! The Blacksteel, Rhine Lab, and Rhodes Kitchen manga have all been sold in physical copies, if you're interested in having them in print!

Prelude Suite: Cadenza Virtuosa: [Official Source]

An epilogue to Hortus De Escapismo focusing on Arturia's background, with the second chapter serving as a prelude for Zwillingstrume im Herbst! An excellent read to get better insight into Arturia's character.

Angelina: Sketches of this Messenger's Journey: [Official Source]

A more comedically focused manwha, centered on the adventures of Angelina travelling across Terra as a Messenger! Currently updating, with recent chapters focusing on Sami and Siesta!

Unofficially Translated

The Dagger's Inheritors: [Youtube]

A 15-minute short 3D animated film about W's past and relationship with Theresa, released for the 5th Arknights anniversary. Arknights Comic Anthology: [Mangadex]

As the title says, a series of non-canon anthology stories regarding the cast of Rhodes' Island! Some of the chapters on Mangadex for the later volumes of the Comic Anthology specifically have been machine translated, but the same is not true for the other manga shared here. Chapters are hit-and-miss, but the whole series is generally a fun read! See the original post for specific chapter suggestions.

123 Rhodes Island: [Mangadex]

A series of non-canon gag comics for the CN server, usually updated when new operators or events release!

Arknights: Operators!: [Mangadex]

A compilation of shortform manga posted on the official ArknightsJP twitter account! Thank you to @sleepywoodscans for their work on personally translating these!

Arknights: A1 Operations Preparation Detachment: [Mangadex]

Part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focusing on Fang, Kroos and Beagle before they join Rhodes Island, and a catastrophe striking the Columbian city of Tkaronto. Thank you to @pooce-art for their translation work!

Other:

Arknights Ambience Synesthesia: [Youtube]

A series of concerts (4 so far), focused around Arknights' music! A live performance has been done every year, with skins released in-game for the concert's theme & 3D animations produced featuring the skin's cast in 2022, 2023, and 2024.

Monster Siren Records: [Spotify] [Official Website]

Arknights' official (and-in-universe) record label publishing game OSTs, themes for almost every 6 star operator that releases, and occasional bonus songs.

Arknights: Endfield: [Twitter]

An upcoming 3D action gacha game from Hypergryph, set in the far future of Arknights' universe on another planet. Currently in closed beta testing for both EN and CN servers!

UNOFFICIAL:

Some fandom-developed tools that might be of use to you are: The Arknights Terra Wiki. While it is a very accurate source for in-game data, take the explanation of in-game story and some specific claims with a grain of salt. The FANDOM version of this wiki is currently no longer mantained and subject to vandalism! Given you can translate or read Chinese, PRTS.wiki is the current best resource for game assets!

As well, the Arknights Story Reader can help you catch up on stuff you don't want to or can't read in game! Jacob Moreau on Youtube provides voiceover readings of many in-game stories as well.

Finally, Aceship's Toolbox provides access to a variety of tools, including a levelling calculator, a calculator to ensure the best recruitments, and all the CGs, backgrounds and character sprites that are available in-game as of So Long, Adele (as far as I'm aware, the sprite/cg gallery is no longer being updated.)

Conclusion:

Thank you for reading! I hope this provided some new information to you or is an easy reference source in the future. Some things, such as merch (i.e. board games) or the official lore book have not been included due to not being accessible or translated for EN players. I'm happy to continue to provide more information like this to make the art surrounding this series more accessible! If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask.

#arknights #i thought about just editing the original post but i felt like an update was in order! hope this is helpful to some people as the first one #was #:D #if there's anything i missed #let me know! and i'll edit it in #not as comprehensive but a little more concise than the previous version

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glassrowboat · 2 months ago

Text

Dottore x Reader x Diluc poto AU

Summary: The Angel of Music's lair awaits you as painted gold arms move to welcome you in, the creak of their gears barely registering in your ears over your voice as his hand fits comfortably in yours, guiding you along. Further, further, and further into his world of unending night.

Warnings: Dottore, sexual content, smut, oral, cunnilignus, masturbating, altering of POTO canon, not proof read but Risse is tired

Word Count: 5k

The lights had been blinding as always when you had stood high on the stage, filling the air with a burning heat that licked at your skin. Sweat had dripped down your back, but there was no searing ache in your muscles from performing as your legs held you up for the painted gold faces of statues to see you in all your glory without even a speck of powder on pointed toes. For there were no silk ribbons fastened around your ankles to be seen by an effigies eyes. Your feet weren't even peeling a new layer of skin. There was only a dull hum in your throat and an ever beating heart from frayed nerves at having all those eyes on you.

On you alone.

For the stage had claimed you not as a ballet dancer who twirled with each long string of a bow, but as the star all lights were pointed to.

Just like the ones covered in glitter and gems you had pulled out of your hair a moment ago and laid to rest on the vanity you were sitting before. Your own reflection staring back at you as your fingers dance over the red petals of a rose. A gift from your Angel of Music.

You could almost hear the vibrato in his voice as well wishes fell from the lips that have taught you so well. Surely, he would be dawning a smirk, prideful as he is.

You plucked a petal, withered at the end with a dull brown that curls in on itself, and let it fall onto the floor of this overbearingly pink room; from the wallpaper to the endless bouquets surrounding you in a fog of perfume. All unaccompanied by a glass bottle to spray a charming mist into the air with a squeeze of an atomizer bulb, yet it smothered you nonetheless.

But in your hands, still perfectly polished from when your makeup had been done before the show, was black. A ribbon unlike the twisted and worn ones of your pointe shoes twisting around your finger, hypnotizing you with its delicate touch.

You didn't even notice the knob of the painted door keeping you apart from the bustling crew you would normally be shrugging through in an attempt to go change out of your costume twisting.

Not until a voice called out, one without the austere lit to it you had heard between dark stones aglow by the flicker of candles as you prayed for your father. That bright red of a rose, its scent still plaguing you, was replaced with locks of embering hair and memories of salt in the air as a violin played; waves lapping at the shore a background to the sweet melody.

“A little girl let her mind wander. The little girl thought, ‘Am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins, or of shoes.”

A poem you had learned in your tender years now sparking at the core of your memory again.

“Diluc?”

Your eyes fell on him, taking in the black coat hugging a frame that had now grown out of the lanky one you had known well from days of cuddling up together in a dusty attic on an old blanket, and white tie so pure it could be mistaken for the snow that is sure to come with the change of seasons already starting to creep in through the walls of the opera house with a chilling touch.

Almost like hands made of ice were ready to wrap around your throat.

But Diluc's were warm as he kneeled before you, hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder only to pull it back like he shouldn't have dared to be so familiar with you despite the moments you both shared. “Or of riddles or of frocks..or of chocolates.”

The flutter of your heart still stirred from the stage, twisting and turning as you looked up at him.

He was different from the boy you once knew, but he still held traces of himself from the memories you replayed in your head on an endless loop in between chatter with the other chorus girls and, dare you admit, even in the face of a blue glow that could never melt into shadows the same way the rest of your phantom did.

“Should I refer to you as Vicomte now?” You asked, remembering how the new managers had introduced him during rehearsal.

“Please, don't call me that.” The flickering light of the candle moved along Diluc's shoulders as they slumped. “It makes me uncomfortable. And there's no need.”

Not between us, is what he didn't say.

“Diluc it is, then.”

“And you, should I call you the star of tonight's show?” Diluc asked, head tilting slightly when your eyes met with his. “You did amazing up there.”

“Oh I see, so I'm not worthy of the title a prima donna yet? But no.” you shook your head, a smile quirking your lips up at his genuine praise. He had always been so quick to listen to your quiet lullabies in awe once upon a time, and that same unabashed reverence has turned back to you again.

He really did remember you despite not recognizing you- not seeing you- when he was first introduced to the troupe as a new benefactor of the theater.

“There's no need for that.” You assured him.

“Then if there's no need for titles between us, how about we share a meal. One in celebration of your wonderful performance and to meeting again?”

Your fingers tightened around the stem in your hands the moment he asked, wrangling it into something new, something misshapen. All between knuckles that were slowly turning white with each passing second. “No.”

“I'm sorry is”- Diluc’s hand drew back further, continuously pulling away the warmth he had to offer- “something wrong?”

And the stirring in your heart seemed to quell the further Diluc got.

“It's not- well..you remember what my father said, right, Diluc? That when he was in heaven he would send the Angel of Music to me.” With a sucked in breath you got out the words: “well father is dead, and I have been visited.”

“Oh, there's no doubt of it.”

The sentence echoed one that had once been whispered between you on a windy day, almost bringing you further back in time than just his mere presence brought you. To memories of dark stories and a scarf trying to fly off with the breeze and swim along the waters being returned to you as he wrapped it around your neck as you promised one day you would stand on the stage waiting for your voice to be heard by everyone and by him.

How far you've come.

The both of you.

But…

“And the Angel of Music is very strict.” You reminded yourself. The you that had become intimate with the shivers racking your spine simply at the thought of displeasing him currently running over you.

Breath falling short.

“I don't intend to keep you for long.”

“I know, it's just-”

And then he asked you to please play along, to indulge him on this even as the hole drilling itself in your stomach grew and grew. To the point eating anything in the first place sounded sickening, but you smiled at that same baby face Diluc couldn't seem to grow out of even after all these years and dared to agree.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as he walked to the door, pushed it out of the way with one last call of “You must change. Something you can actually walk around in, preferably. In the meantime, I'll order my carriage.” And a promise you won't regret joining him as that pink door closed.

Painted lilies staring back at you as gooseflesh awoke on your skin.

A lock silently clicked in place without you even noticing.

Then, a voice seemed to blare over the room, blowing out the candles around you one by one. From the vanity your red rose laid upon to the one next to the dressing screen you had only just been behind to change (trying to discard the heavy costume you had worn on stage), hands occupied with fixing the tie to your robe. Darkness took over, leaving you in the music of the night.

“He's insolent, my muse. Just a boy who hasn't even fostered the voice you now yield, but there he was sharing in my triumph.”

The sneer you could hear in his voice was recognizable and well known after all the times other ‘young suitors’ as he liked to call them dared to cross an invisible line he drew. One you still couldn't tell if it was etched in the grains of sand or hammered into concrete, but either way, daring to pass, it was as risky as a gambler asking for Aphrodite’s kiss.

“He didn't mean any harm.”

“I would say trying to step in the way of your spotlight for a chance to greet you is pernicious at best.”

Like the panes of a window leaving shadows along the floor where the sun casts its rays.

“Look, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell him no.”

“But your soul was weak, I take it?” He asked with the same snark you've grown accustomed to from him. At this point it was almost a comfort after hearing him make remarks about the inability of the crew, Carlotta, and the new managers who had just taken over all while a stained glass image of a god you bowed your head to watched over you.

A holy gaze keeping you safe as prayers for your father whispered on your lips and a flame sparked as you lit a candle in his name, but in here it was only you and a fog slowly creeping in.

Dottore always was one for dramatics.

“Forgive me, teacher.” You said at last.

A hum filled your ears, just as the fog rose higher and higher, blocking out the endless bouquets that had been filling the room more than the gaudy furniture could even dare to try.

He spoke of Diluc basking in your glory, but here he was doing the same with your trepidation.

All you could do was wait for the other shoe to fall, or-

“Only this once, my muse.”

Or to have a hand held out to take yours. Black gloves and golden claws shattering the illusion you were semi alone in this room as the mirror fell away for Dottore to pull you inside. Arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close as a melody filled your ears; blocking out the sound of Diluc rattling the doorknob to check on you as panic swells in his chest.

“I am your Angel of Music.” Dottore said as he cast a sidelong glance towards the door, his hold on you tightening. “Come to your Angel of Music.”

With a crescendo, everything else fell away.

All with that same fog following you, drowning everything else out. Leaving the world above the murky depths you were pulled into distorted by refraction. Blocking out the last words you could have sworn went something along the lines of: “Who is in there with you?”

You couldn't even register the concern lacing each word, not when all your nerves were set alight. Yet the raucous beating of your heart, a drum that has long since been used and abused, finally soothed as Dottore pulled you along.

“Come now, and sing once again with me our strange duet.”

A haze passed by all at once with golden arms clicking as gears in need of a good oiling moved, fingers intertwining with your own, and the splash of water as a rowboat that looked as fickle as glass dipped under your weight when you climbed in.

All with the assurance “I have you” as you were flooded by the Phantom’s song.

His voice echoed off the walls dripping with a moisture you would rather not think about, slipping between the cracks and over dewy cobwebs with a raw texture. The talent of a man who taught himself all he knew in the silence between the shows put on in the light as his shadow cast across the stones down below.

Dottore had once likened it to a hollow building, one falling apart at the seams all thanks to its unsteady foundation, but you? You, the very thing that inspired his song, had come in and filled that shell of a home with comfort. Blankets over the windows to keep the cold air out, rugs padding over the hard floor, and a place to rest; one without the worry of rats creeping their way into our home.

Dottore never explained why he called it “our home.”

Not even as his masked face turned towards you and you were left questioning if that black and white porcelain could hold an expression of fondness.

“Surely you know how to get out of a boat yourself.” Dottore teased, even as he helped pull you out with one last unsteady lurch and splash of water under your feet. Droplets tickling your ankles.

“Apparently not.”

“Don't tell me I have another thing I need to teach you.” Dottore raised a brow, or maybe both, you really couldn't tell.

“Would it matter if you did?” You teased.

“I suppose not. We can stay down here, together.” Dottore whispered with his hand ghosting along your cheek. Cold to the touch. “And abandon the garish light of day all while I teach you something new. All in this kingdom of music..”

A kingdom with only one subject, the king: Dottore himself.

“I'm not just going to purge my thoughts of the life I knew before,” danced on your tongue, wanting to escape from the confines you only tightened the hold of. Chaining it to a wall to be forgotten and discarded.

For his eyes could both threaten and adore; you already knew which would be easier to handle. And you were too exhausted to try weasel your way out of this mess you had stumbled in again, anyway.

“Softly, deftly music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it secretly possess you.” As he sang in your ear, lips and the touch of his mask grazing your skin, Dottore's hand fell from your cheek. Roamed as it pleased. Traced over your collarbones only to go lower, lower, and lower. The golden claws he's wearing toy with your robe, reflecting back your own thinly pressed lips in their radiance. “Open up your mind, my muse. Let me in. Let yourself belong to me.”

“…I”

You took too long to respond.

That was apparent in the way his hand drew back. A stove hot to the touch to tender flesh. Leaving him wounded.

“You need rest. It's been a long night for you.”

“Right…I'm not even that tired though.” Not when your eyes had a place to scour over. To soak in all the rugs placed over the mildew-claimed floors, the lights buzzing with electricity that somehow worked all the way down here, and a well loved piano sitting atop it all.

“You will be. Just give it time.”

All while that same fog that has been chasing you both filled your vision.

You didn't even get the chance to ask Dottore what he meant by that as you fell into his arms. Eyes rolling back as you were greeted by the darkest dreams a mind could imagine.

“Took longer than I thought it would. I'll need to change the percentages in the concoction then. My fault for not testing the drug when it's airborne.”

Muttering to himself Dottore carried you to his bed and placed you down. Tongue clicking as he looked at you slowly being swallowed up but the mattress he had spent countless restless nights tossing and turning in. “Can't you see? Only you alone can make my music take flight…but that boy…”

Hands that were still burnt from your earlier refusal pulled a blanket up and over your shoulders; shaking unsteadily. They might as well have actually been burnt under a flame, set alight, for they twitched like embers were ingrained into his skin as Dottore lingered near you.

Silently watching.

“Once he's gone you can help me make the music of the night. But for now, simply rest well.”

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Dottore left in favor of his piano, desperate for something to take the swirling storm in his head out on.

It was better that way.

It gave Dottore something to focus on that wasn't his cock straining against his pants as he set the sheets of an unfinished piece before him. Notes daring to be written on the yellowed paper, crinkled and worn after all times he's dug it out only to store it away again without adding a single drop of ink. His pen always did hang in the air, threatening to add something as Dottore busied himself with tapping at the keys; feather covered back turned to you as he tried to work.

Crude, Dottore thought as he huffed at just how wrong it all sounded to his self-taught ear.

It was the tapping that eventually stirred you, forcing your eyes to crack open only to be greeted by the sight of a metal bird staring down at you rather than the mask you had come to expect. Its head tilted to the side. Blue eyes glowing in the dark.

You didn't even get the chance to mutter a confused hello before it flew off with a squawk. Soaring. Long, almost vial-like tail flowing after it.

“What the…”

Grumbling, you pushed the blankets covering you away. Feet padding on the floor as you followed after its flapping wings.

Without your Angel by your side this place seemed different. Hollow, almost. Lonely, like a burnt out candle waiting to bring fire to this world again as it fails to shine. To the point you were glad to follow the song that never seemed to stop playing in your head all the way to a hunched figure.

Without turning back to look at you Dottore said: “I see you're awake. How are you doing, my muse?”

“Like I entered a fever dream.” Which would explain this labyrinth where the daylight dissolves into darkness. All except a faint glow leaving his skin an unearthly hue. “You see the bird too, right?”

Another tap of the keys laid out in front of him rang before Dottore spoke again.

“I do.”

“At least I'm not going crazy then.”

The feathers of his jacket greeted you first, brushing along your arms as they wrapped around him. Would the bird feel the same or would it lack Dottore's warmth you clung to? Would it feel as stiff as he froze under you like deer under the glow of a blinding light.

Funny, for a man who would take a life with as little emotion as a carriage running over a fawn's carcass.

“If you were going crazy I would be sure to tell you.” Dottore strangled out. Voice so tight you couldn't help but check you weren't accidentally pulling on that strap he wore around his throat (for some reason or another), but you weren't even so much as touching it.

“How thoughtful.”

“It's less being thoughtful and more the thought you of going”- his hand pulled away from the keys to gesture at something you couldn't see- “crazed might affect how you choose to sing. Though, it might add an interesting candor as you bear your heart and voice to the opera house.”

“And to its crowd.” You teased, eyes peeking up at him, at the mask he wore, from the feathered mantle you were snuggled up against.

You were so tempted to reach out and graze your fingers over the material, to feel the cold sting grace your skin before pulling it away to reveal what lay underneath. May it be a man or a monster your curiosity begged to know. Pleading into your ear. Only for you to remember the last time you tried as he sucked in an unsteady breath. How he pushed you away, raised a hand that never fell to your cheek as you crawled farther and farther away from him until your back hit a wall behind you.

He shook then just as Dottore is now.

“Yes, them too.”

So your hand didn't dare to try again. Instead it fell to the keyboard to tap over a note or two, fiddling with it to keep your mind off the need to pull away from him- to flee- that gnawed at you. After all, if this truly was a kingdom then what subject could truly run away without repercussions?

The monarch himself picked up the pen beside him, pinched it between those pointed claws, and the notes you had just played were written down on the piece of paper laid out before him.

“Are you writing a new piece?” You asked.

“I'm attempting to. Unfortunately, I am rather distracted.”

Ignoring the way his jaw jutted your way accusingly you continued to tap at the keys. And he continued to write each note down until he told you to sit beside him

“I don't think there's enough room on that bench you're using, Angel.”

His hands were on your waist in a second, the pen clattering as it dropped while Dottore pulled you on his lap. “I said: sit down.”

You barely noticed him picking the pen back up from the ground with his fingers playing with the laces of your corset; brushing over them all the way down to the messy bow you had tied together. At the time your hands had been shaking as the excitement to be on stage had rushed through you, but now your own jittery effort was undone by one single pull of the wirey cord.

Dottore’s touch burned, even through his gloves.

“So..a new piece?” You asked.

“Yes, but I was..admittedly struggling with composing it; on my own, that is. It would be a great help to me if you played another note.” The laces were tugged at again. “Or two. Or three.”

Even as the garment fell off you, only held up by your own hands, it felt harder to breathe than before. “I wouldn't mind, really, but was this necessary?”

Dottore's eyes flicked down between you, scalding you with the red fire inside of them that seemed to only be held back by a single barrier of glass, begging to shatter under the stress. “I was undoing it to keep the corset from pressing on your diaphragm. I don't need your voice distorted.”

It was only a moment later Dottore tacked on “That's all” even as he leaned in closer to you, hand trailing up your back just as softly as the air from his lips was gracing yours. Only an inch apart. Getting closer, closer, and closer to the point you could see deformities in the mask.

Then his head fell to your neck.

“You'll help me f-” Dottore cut himself off, shutting his own trail of thought down. “For my music, won't you, my muse?”

Your hand met the piano, trying to play another note even as his hand dropped from your back and you fell against the keys. The chord cluster had your fingers curling around the white tiles; the damned bird squawked with a jump, only causing your grip to tighten at the shrill sound.

“I'm the one who interrupted your focus, so..” You cleared your throat. “Yes, teacher.”

Dottore replied back with an excellent, already clearly hard at work again as his pen moved, writing the notes you accidentally slammed down on. Black ink trailing off with every flick of his wrist as Dottore's hand slid up to where yours was keeping the corset up and pressed his thumb right over your diaphragm; fingers tickling your ribcage.

“Try to sing a note.”

Without a second to doubt his reasons you obeyed, and Dottore nodded in thought.

“Excellent, just like that. Now, remind me, I don't think we've practiced singing while enduring rough activity, have we?” He asked, head tilting ever so slightly to the side as his eyes flicked over your form on top of him.

“No.” You got out even through the discomfort pressing at your chest.

“Then it's time to change that. Don't you agree?”

“It would be a waste to turn down an opportunity to learn, right? That's what you always say.” At this point you could probably parrot the exact cadence Dottore uses as he repeats those exact words, voice controlled, a lit to it you knew belonged to a man who enjoyed having eyes on him as he made a spectacle of how smart he was, all while teaching you. Usually, Dottore would posture, flick his cape when it gets in his way - not pull you from his lap and place you down on the piano behind you.

Another slam of the keys.

You shifted, trying to get comfortable in your new found place as you tried to figure out why you thought something had been poking at your thigh the entire time Dottore had been holding you close. Had you sit with him on the stool clattering to the floor in Dottore's rush to push it away and kneel before you.

You had half a mind to comment how gross that had to be with these floors, but you were cut off by Dottore himself. “Have I ever told you nighttime has a way of heightening and sharpening each sensation?”

“Here and there.” You nodded. “But what does this have to do with your composition?”

The music sheet (one missing a title) was now cast aside, pen keeping it in place from any stray breeze hoping to pick it up and force it to fall along with the stool. Abandoned by its own creator without mercy for his hands had left it to play with the hem of your skirts; pushing them up and along your legs.

“Oh that's quite simple, but it seems my muse can't figure it out on her own.” Dottore clicked his tongue with a harsh tch. “Sometimes I swear you need everything spelled out for you.”

Ripples ran along your thigh as the cool metal of Dottore's claws graced your skin, from your hip to your ankle as he dragged your undergarments down. “I'll simply draw the notes out of you. You can just lay back and feel it all, savor each sensation.”

“Angel-”

“Oh, and-” Dottore's eyes raised from the sight of your skirts now bunched around your waist, pushed out of the way for his convenience. All to place a single kiss on your thigh that you nearly jerked away from. Only held in place due to the grip he had on you; mercilessly keeping you still even as a heat crept over your cheeks. “And make sure to use your voice.”

Your leg was hooked over his shoulder, the feathers from before taunting you as they brushed against your skin. Were you supposed to grab them or his hair? Were you supposed to yank him back and ask what this was about or let him keep leaning in closer?

The puff of air breathed out on your core answered before you could decide for yourself. And you were suddenly grateful you were sitting on the piano instead of trying to keep yourself up, afloat, as sharp teeth nibbled at your skin leaving your knees feeling weak even after all the years of ballet lessons that strengthened them. Hours of holding poses, perfecting them until you were given a nod of approval from Madame Giry, all suddenly for naught.

“I-I don't think this is very appropriate.”

“You said you'd help me.”

“Well, granted, I did, but-”

His tongue slid along your folds, tasting the very essence you exude. A long strip, a long drag of his tongue on you, and you were a goner.

A single moan ripped through your throat had Dottore's hand reaching down, fumbling with the buttons on his pants (far too many for his liking right now) to push them aside as he tasted you again, again, and again. Only pulling back long enough- giving you a chance to recover- to whisper against your folds “Don't think about anything besides me, my muse. Just me. Let me inside your mind.”

The keys pressed down, playing a soft melody every time your hips bucked up to chase after his touch; desperately trying to drag out more and more of the pleasure building in you. It was a raging fire flooding your soul, a need Dottore returned a hundredfold with a hand wrapping around his cock. Fucking it imagining it was you under him instead- bodies intertwining.

A minor, D minor, and E minor played on the piano, only drowned out by the sound of your cries and the wet sounds between your legs.

A strange duet that was wholefully one of your and Dottore's making.

His thumb brushed over the head of Dottore’s cock, smearing pre into his gloves as Dottore's tongue ravaged you with every bit of lust he'd tampered down over the years. Finally he was able to let it drain into you. Each moment of grazed hands, stolen glances and close calls coming to fruition as his tongue lapped at you.

Using you as a faucet to his molten need that never failed to be stoked, coals sparking with a fire burning alight, by your voice.

“That's it, give in to me. Give in to what I do to you.” Dottore barely managed to mutter between his own groans and hatred to be parted from you for a single second.

Your hand tugged at his hair, the questions you asked yourself long since tossed aside with the flame burning in your core, begging to be eased.

To be satiated.

You barely caught sight of the mechanical bird watching as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the image of Dottore kneeling before you, head between your thighs as he stroked himself reflected back in its metal beak; warped image capturing the moment you came as the Opera Ghost himself made you sing.

You were too dazed to make out the notes you were playing anymore, only the fact they were turning in your head like a music box that never failed to draw you in as Dottore's head fell against your thigh. Slick coating his face (and parts of his mask), leaving it with a sheen he licked off as his hand moved. Hips stuttering up into the hole he made with a moan.

He called your name as he came, white sticky fluid splashing over the ground.

Blood red eyes staring up at you the entire time.

Speech seemed to turn into silence, words failing you, just out of reach of your outstretched hand desperately hoping to grasp onto anything to say in this moment. But all you could think about was how your blood was still racing.

Even when he had raised from the floor, ran a hand along your cheek, and finally kissed you you still had no clue what to say. Not even as your Angel whispered “Finally. You are so beautiful when you sing, my muse, to the point I couldn't smother your voice even when I longed to kiss you.”

Pulling you in his arms, Dottore held you close, hand running up and down your back, passing over the open laces of your corset.

“Don't you see? This is the music of the night.”

For you alone can make his song take flight.

Funny, how even wrapped up in his embrace, the heat of your release painting your thigh, you still felt cold.

And you longed for another to hold you tight.

#and the melody they made ends up being The Point of No Return #f for diluc tho. man just met his childhood sweetheart again and she's down in the basement getting tongue fucked #hoyoverse #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fem reader #banner by cafekitsune #dottore x reader #il Dottore x reader #dottore #il Dottore

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tanzdoesthings · 4 months ago

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wow wow wow! so much happening for SkyFest!! i visited all of the live events today, and here’s what i saw.

first the big keynote, the state of sky.

seeing these massive crowds is crazy, and to see acknowledgement of the QOL improvements players are looking for? yes!!! i am so hopeful seeing the votes on reducing the grind in sky. i quit playing right before season of aurora because of it.

we have confirmation on 4 seasons. Duets, Moomin, and in 2025 there will be two seasons for the Two Embers. my prediction is that it will be for the dawn ember, then the dusk ember, played alongside the release of the series. i think that it will be the summer and fall seasons, and that there will be a spring season between moomin and two embers.

there was confirmation that the clip is at the end of the first episode.

then onto the guided tour! as a game developer, this was SO COOL to see! one prototype in here looks like something i have made before. its reassuring to see that familiar environment and know what it can become.

there was certainly some tech issues, but it was neat to be toured around, and i have a recording of it. seeing all the techy background just makes me so happy.

myself and @serenefork attended events together, and took a break in the middle to watch the AURORA concert! (EVERYONE can watch it for free now, just visit the office and the cape is on display for use!)

moving on, the tech keynote was VERY INTERESTING to me, as its the things i am actively studying. they mentioned looking for people to hire and by god i wish i was there in person to ask questions and get info out of these engineers. it was a bit funny to turn around and see the room much emptier than the first keynote, though.

overall, a lovely time! its good to see all the info on the problem solving done to make such cool events real. here’s to the betterment of sky! see y’all tomorrow!

#sky: cotl #sky children of the light #sky cotl #skyfest #tanz talks #get this post in the MAIN TAGS #skyposting #sky: two embers

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christophernolan · 1 year ago

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Fantasy books by female authors that deserve more praise and recognition and are so SO MUCH better than whatever SJM writes.

The Sun Sword series | Michelle West

A hundred thousand kingdoms | NK Jemisin

The killing Moon | NK Jemisin

An ember in the Ashes | Sabaa Tahir

Shatter Me | Taherah Mafi

Furyborn | Claire Legrand

The bone season | Samantha Shannon

Darker shade of Magic | VE Schwab

The invisible life of Addie LaRue | VE Schwab

Realm of the Elderlings | Robin Hobbs

Sands of Arawiya | Hafsah Faizal

The Daevabad Trilogy | SA Chakraborty

Year of the Reaper | Makiia Lucier

The bear and the Nightingale | Katherine Arden

The Night Circus | Erin Morgenstern

Descendent of the Crane | Joan He

The bridge Kingdom | Danielle Jensen

Dark Shores | Danielle Jensen

Falling Kingdoms | Morgan Rhodes

Range of Ghosts | Elizabeth Bear

Children of blood and Bone | Tomi Adeyemi

The Wrath and the Dawn | Renee Ahdieh

Lumatere Chronicles | Melina Marchetta

The Alchemists of Loom | Elise Kova

#I have an itch when it come to SJM I have 4 of her books and I don’t understand why people think she’s the greatest author since Jane Austen #anyway please read these incredible books #I’ve read these so if you wanna add please do so #books #book recs 2023 #books recs #books and reading

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etoilesombre · 1 year ago

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Fic Master List

I got tired of having to decide which fic post to keep pinned, so I made this. Proper summaries, tags and warnings all on AO3.

Black Sails

Another Way - Silverflint, E, 29,399 words, complete. Dubcon! But in a very old-school fanfic trope fuck or die way. It diverges from the scene where they get captured taking the warship. They do work through everything in the aftermath, and the end is very sweet actually.

By Faith of my Body - Silverflintmadi in various combinations, but emphasis on the flintmadi relationship. E, Chapter 1/4 posted. Flint and Madi bond over books, the weight of leadership, and being in love with John Silver. FealtySub!Flint, shameless use of literature for my own nefarious purposes, and so much pining.

Another Troy to Burn - Series. Silverflint longfic series, my special precious baby and literally the first thing I ever wrote. It's canon where they're fucking the whole time but it doesn't change anything. There is a moodboard (thanks @jaynovz) and also a playlist.

A Composite Unity - E, 20,366 words, complete. The first two seasons, Flint pov. He is not having a great time.

The Salt and the Sea - E, 60,495 words, complete. Set during the season 2-3 break, how Silver decided to stay and what happened with the gold. He is also not having a great time.

It Only Made Me Real- E, chapters 4/? posted. Silver adjusting to his role as quartermaster, Flint being Flint during the raids. I swear upon everything holy that I WILL finish this series if its the last thing I do, but, it has been on hiatus for a while.

for to fight the cold - Silverflint, E, 11,283 words, complete. Flint arrives to rescue Silver while he is still being held captive on the beach after the failed attack on Nassau. The cathartic murder of Israel Hands, followed by angst, caretaking, and a sexual tension filled camping trip.

If It Was You - Silverflint, E, 17,430 words, complete. Free use gangbang porn that got out of control and also grew a lot of feelings. The boys spend the night in port on a mission. There is only one bed. Flint freaks out and makes questionable choices, Silver walks in on the whole thing, they have to work through it. Cathartic happy ending. The very Most dirty talk.

I'll Carry You Home Tonight - Silverflint, E, 6,604 words, complete. This one is just porn. Season 3-4 break, the guys are newly in a relationship, they get Pirate Date Night. It's working title was 'impact play and 5 phases of ass stuff'.

Kinkmeme-Verse - Series of prompt fills for 2024 Black Sails kinkmeme. I wrote the first two, saw the prompt for the third, and had a Vision of how they could all be connected, so here we are.

As a Boy - James Flint|McGraw/Admiral Hennessey, E, 5,121 words, complete. Young James McGraw is caught with a boy, and punished. Big content warning for CSA, which I tried to treat seriously.

Pressure - Silverflint, E, 4,504 words, complete. More watersports are we all shocked? This is kind of the ultimate expression of that, but really its an exploration of pain and grief and healing through BDSM.

Make Sail for the Dawn - Silverflint, E, 12,504 words, complete. Flint uses submission as catharsis amidst his grief and pain over Miranda, but Silver accidentally reminds him of past history, which he then has to confront. They work through it, because Silver really has to do everything on this ship, including being his captain's therapist. Also Flint gets fucked with his pistol. Just by the way. This is the one prompter hated! Go see for yourself if it is, in fact, Too Awful For Kinkmeme XD.

long as amber of ember glows - Silverflint, E, 7,933 words, complete. If 3.10 ended the way it should have. There are love confessions, and they fuck on the gold. No literally, on it. It's very sweet honestly.

Our Feast is But Beginning - Series. Silverflint Cookingverse! Flint teaches Silver to cook.

Spit-Roasted - M, 5,821 words, complete. The one where Flint shows Silver how to roast a pig. It's canon! Flint is very weird about sex.

Gentille Alouette - E, 11,618 words, complete. Late night cooking dates on the Walrus, continuing intense sexual tension, Flint is basically edging himself. He sure is a way.

Princes of the New World - E, 38,145 words, complete. This one got a little out of hand, it has many things in it, including lots of hurt comfort and caretaking, the guys finally getting together and also not hiding their relationship, some intense gender vibes (Silver gets to be a pampered pretty princess) and yes, even some cooking.

Our Shadows That Are Bold - Silverflint, E, 4,912 words, complete. Dom Silver. The first little iteration of fealty sub Flint, he sure has some feelings about Silver coming into his own as king.

So We Begin - Silverflint, E, 4,038 words, complete. 3.7 missing scene fic that is exactly what you would expect after stomp stomp and the "how good it feels" conversation.

The Soft Animal of Your Body - Silverflint, E, 3,398 words, complete. The watersports one. Yep sure is, omorashi style, with a good side of hurt comfort stuff and also Flint telling a weird dirty story. Set during warship recovery time. This is basically an outtake of longfic because it doesn't quite work there but wouldn't leave my brain.

the sound that you found for me - T, background silverflintmadi, but its really about Silver and Betsy the cat. Yep. 5,699 words, complete. Kittenfic!! Written for the Beach Blanket Black Sails Ficfest, the prompt was 'Betsy has kittens and Silver wants to keep them on Maroon Island.' It's really about Silver and trauma and there are sad parts but nothing bad happens to any cats and there is a happy ending.

stitched with its color - G, silverflintmadi sort of, 1,344 words, complete. The conversation where Madi tells Flint that Silver is alive.

Such Terrible Hungers - E, Flintvane, 3,357 words, complete. Instead of fuck buddies, they're fuck enemies. Fight sex and Flint angst, that's basically the fic.

to pull me from myself again - E, Silverflint, 7,419 words, complete. Written in response to a Tumblr prompt asking for s1 dynamics softe silverflint, Silver's first time with a man. That is indeed it, that's the fic

What Lies Beneath - E, Silverflint, 3 chapters, complete. 11,031 words. Demon Flint AU! Basically make the demon in Flint literal. Silver is fascinated of course.

The Fetch Phillips Archives (aka Luke Arnold's books, go read them!)

announcing your place in the family of things - E, Fetch/Satyr, 6,865 words, complete. The first creature Fetch meets when he leaves the human city is that unnamed Satyr, and that feels like a conscious choice to me. Coulda said 'faun' and we wouldn't be here Luke. Anyway monsterfucking, but in a lovely way.

The Exorcist (tv)

The Smoke of Their Torment - M, Marcus/Tomas, 572 words, complete. A snippet of Marcus angst and pining and also jerking off in a shared hotel room there may be more someday.

The X-Files

Whatever You Can Still Betray - E, Mulder/Krycek, Chapter 1/? posted. Set in vague early season five, sometime between Redux and Patient X. Mulder chases a case across the world to a secret Russian facility in Chechnya, and right into the hands of Alex Krycek. Krycek has problems of his own, but believes his interests and Mulder's might be aligned. When disaster strikes, they have to rely on each other to survive.

#for a long time i kept whatever was most recent or relevant pinned #but now i realized how much there is #so #here's the masterlist #fanfic #my writing #silverflint #black sails #fetch phillip archives #sunderverse #the exorcist tv

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helloescapist · 1 year ago

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The Hashiras in a Relationship| Kyojuro Rengoku

Word Count: 4800?

Setting: Kyojuro Rengoku x gn!reader (there is one mention of kids in the future, but it's not implied how they will enter the family).

Content Warnings: none 🔥

Summary: headcanons Kyojuro Rengoku as a relationship partner, what it would entail. Dating to commitment.

[image is not mine]

To be loved by the Flame Hashirais to know comfort and warmth. To be loved by Kyojuro is falling nights, evening hours beneath stars that twinkle in the sky. The soft glow of cinder illuminating silhouettes, soft touches that at a moment’s notice deepen. Its security, an embrace beneath a blanket, two bodies coiled within another. It’s his breath against the back of your neck, snuggled close together. Savoring the tender notes of Japanese Red Cedar, tender as the embers cool. The fragrance of smoke, delicate and hazy. Dulling the senses as the warmth threatens to drift you off to sleep. The touches of smoke, destined to dance across your flesh. Lingering in the warmth, savoring one another, and perfuming your pores. To be loved by Kyojuro, is to stand next to a bonfire. Dance beneath the stars, warm and playful, to twirl in smoke, to bask in the crisp scent of leaves, and embrace comfort. The sweet caress of Orange Osmanthus. To know that regardless of where you may go, the scent of smolder shall remain, just as his love.

To be loved by Rengoku is to understand that you will need to embrace him. To accept the warmth of his smile, to respond to his laughter, to bask in the soul-piercing questions.

It’s to bare your deepest desires, and return his own. To welcome his confessions, to caress his tears, to cradle his insecurities.

To be loved by Rengoku is to be loved in every sense of the word. It’s to know the reliability of the rising sun; to know that regardless of the darkness that may claim the night, the dawn will always come. The warmth of embers upon your flesh, plush blankets, and the tender brush of his nose against yours.

It’s to know sacrifice, to know the honor of a Hashira, of a partner, and of a good man. Whether it is the haori off his back, relinquishing his bento to a hungry stranger, derailing a date to help a little granny carry a parcel home, to more extremes such as defending a child who impeded upon a nobleman’s honor, to staring death in the eye to protect mizunoto.

To be with Rengoku means accepting filling his empty tummy; it’s for the best his cooking is… questionable. It’s not he’s actually a bad cook, it’s more like he’s overzealous in the kitchen. Bare in mind the era, alongside his rank amongst the Demon Corps, Kyojuro likely wouldn’t have many opportunities to interact with the kitchen outside of amusement.

While he can follow the recipe well enough, I mean he is no stranger to scavenging the forests of Japan. Ultimately, his own excitement coupled with so many options—what is mitsuba? He’s confident he has seen [YN] use it in the kitchen. It MUST be tasty!

In it goes. He’s never been properly been given the opportunity to interact with a vast variety of spices and seasonings, and so, Rengoku is quick to deviate from the recipe.

To be with Rengoku means that, colds are in your future. His over generous heart very well will have him giving up his bed for a stranger while out on a mission, donating his haori for a passerby, so I recommend brushing up on caring for a patient.

Especially one as unintentionally stubborn as Kyojuro. It’s not that the Flame Hashira aspires to bring home a cold, or he means to be a burden while he’s ill. It’s rather that, it’s because he doesn’t want to burden you with his condition that he will attempt to hide it.

He will struggle against being cared for, insure you that he will manage. Please, don’t mind him. You will have to be firm, remind him that you WANT to care for him, and even resort to some under handed tactics to ensure he remains in bed.

I suggest reaching out to Shinobu for wellness supplements, vitamins, and rations for him to carry on his missions if he doesn’t give them away. You may have to resort to simply adding it to his daily routine, he certainly won’t reject the idea if you reassure that it’s because you care.

Despite his fuss, he loves that you’re taking care of him.

Regardless of what route you take in ensuring his physical wellbeing, the day will come. The day you pray will never cross your paths, when a kakushi delivers the news no one wishes to utter to a lover.

To be with the Flame Pillar is to accept that he will offer up his life for the sake of others. It is, after all his duty. Bestowed upon him by birth, gifted from the gods, and gently instilled with the pride of his mother, the day will come, and to be with Rengoku means to accept that one day, he will not return.

That your bed, will be empty, devoid of laughter. His curiosity and jovial smile will be absent from the kitchens, and your nights will be robbed of his enigmatic gaze.

This is the duty of his lover. One that pains him to impart on you, but one of which, he cannot avoid.

Just know, that every moment he dedicated to you were the happiest of his life.

[YN], I’m so sorry I won’t be home for dinner.

Reminiscing of the first bento you had ever made, the pride in which you had presented to him, the brightest smile touched to his face as he passes from this world.

Your first meeting, would be an everyday event. One where you went about your duties.

Whether it was to report for duty, under Oyakata-sama’s watchful gaze. The tilt of your head, eyes well trained to avert from another’s gaze. The polite bend of your back to even the kakushi that rushed through the halls, to the depth of your bow as you greeted superiors, well-practiced and mannered. The soft, humble smile tucked at your lips as he passed you by.

It could be on an average serving day, employed at a local tea house. Disbursing tea and treats with a dutiful bow, and gratitude upon purchase. Welcoming all those who passed the business. The deep bow from those that frequented your shop regardless of station. The way you had tended tend to an elderly man, who had struggled with his meal. His later years betraying his body, making him jumpy and unstable. How you had quickly preserved his honor without so much as a second thought. Willing to take the blame for offering him such cold food that it had sent a chill down his spine, both of you knowing that the meal before him was well prepared, all while maintaining the bend of your back.

Truthfully, the first day you would encounter one another, would be an ordinary day. It would be your average day. One born of duty, of survival, of tasks to be accomplished, and yet, the way you had conducted yourself.

Respectful, dutiful, kind. Not a day in which you would expect attraction to ember. The touch of cinders had ensnared him, drawn his attention.

The days to weeks to follow, you find yourself caught under his gaze. The touch of embers drawing your curious attention, embarrassed to be appraised. Bashfully averted, prioritizing manners whether of station or employment.

The warmth of crisp fall leaves, captivating the ambers of autumn, engrossed in the warmth of fiery red enough to draw the heat to your cheeks.

Unlike some of the Hashiras, Rengoku does not require as much time to pursue you. While he’s not as intentionally flirty as some of the Hashira, he is also not as hesitating either. I would say, he’s a fair middle ground.

He craves a deep connection, and a genuine partner. His approach to ensuring he has glimpsed at the truest version of you, would be similar to Shinobu.

The Flame Pillar will take some time to observe you. Nothing as in depth as the Insect Hashira’s approach no one will be as thorough as Kocho. It will be small drop-ins, interactions made in passing.

Never intending to snoop, but he could not resist the way his eyes followed you, the way you had pulled from an onigiri from your pocket, offering it to a small child who’s stomach knew of hunger. Could not ignore the gentle way you had consoled them.

Nor the time when he was out securing bentos for his journey, ensnared by the way you had placed yourself between an innocent bystander, and a fowl temper drunker.

He would have intercepted the interaction, but it was evident that the lecture you had elicited had more than sobered the man up, and shamed him more than any smack Kyojuro could have provided.

No, he really wouldn’t need that much time before he approached you with the intentions of taking you on a date, or seeing you more casually. He certainly has no qualms about making the first move.

Should you decide to reject him, it will be met with a sincere smile, and apology for disrupting your day. However, in the event you have elected to turn him down, you will have to make the first move if you’ve changed your mind.

Kyojuro is a tolerant man, and he will take you up on your offer despite his bruised ego, but he will not ask you a second time.

It’s not that he’s no longer interested, rather, your reject was clear—he is not one to force himself on you, or anyone else for that matter. He does not enjoy playing games.

That being said, his willingness to approach you first is a breath of fresh air amongst the Hashiras, not many of them will approach you first, or willingly announce their attraction in the way that the Flame Pillar, nor as openly.

The positive is that your relationship, is not expected to progress slowly. The first date will be set as soon as Rengoku has determined that he is in fact interested. This stage can move as quickly as his interactions with you.

If you happen to work together under the Demon Corps command, you can expect things develop fairly quickly.

However, if you are not a member of the slayers, then your opportunities are limited to the interludes between his missions.

To be clear, Rengoku is not averse to a more casual relationship. Although he approaches them with trepidation. While he is flirtacious intentionally or not, he has very little desire for a fleeting attraction.

He wants a spark, a flame that bursts upon impacts. The rumble of hearts, merged to one, singing of more than simple cravings of the flesh, but rather the desperate plead of souls pledged to one another.

The steady flames of true love, he is looking for a partner one in which will satisfy his desire for a deep connection, not a passing fling.

For this reason, Kyojuro is not likely to engage in a casual fling. That being said, while such fleeting interludes are rare, they do happen. If this is the arrangement you desire, your best bet is to be forthcoming with your expectations.

If you are insincere about your relationship expectations, you will likely be met with a critical reaction before the bond is without a doubt, severed.

To be loved by Rengoku is to engage in deep, intimate conversations. His desire to connect with you will not be satisfied without such interactions.

He wants craves to know the truest you. To delve into the depths of your soul, to know the warmth of your smile. He yearns to dance upon midnight with you, to play in the snow as though you were children, and to witness to your tears.

To comfort your fears, to quiet the depths of your mind, and the doubts that fester there. He desires nothing more than to understand you. To care for you, to know the you, you would only dare share with him. Him alone. Rengoku is more than willing to exert all of his time to unfolding the layers you bare.

Discussions of your future, and the possibilities that accompany them will be common place. While he savors the present, the warmth of your smile, how lovely your eyes are alight in the daylight, and your scent as delicate and earthy as sweet potatoes, the Flame Hashira’s heart is towards the future.

Even on your first tryst, Kyojuro’s core is considering the life ahead of you. Whether you will marry, or engage in a promise of souls. If you would want children, or rather, how many children would you be willing to care for.

How you might turn the Rengoku estate into your own, would the home smell of tea and yaki imo? Would you great him with daigaku imo on harder days? How do you prefer to express your affections? How would he achieve this? How would you ensure in all the years to come, that you will always know his affections are for you, and you alone?

the man is already considering names for the fur ball he would bring home for you.

Kabocha for a rabbit. Kaki for a dog. No, wait. [YN] may a cuter name like Mochi, or Chibi.

Prepare yourself, he will not hesitate to approach a heavy topic. He wants to know the profundity of your dreams. Savor the taste of your aspiration.

There is a chance you may be blindsided by his abrasive approach, rare is the man who would impede on these topics on the first date, but I suspect that the natural warmth and acceptance that Rengoku radiates, will have your lips moving in no time. Whether you are shy or not, I imagine that he will find a way to have you talking. He’s so good nature, that I doubt it would be a forced situation.

He may have offered too man alcoholic drinks, unaware of your low tolerance. The spew of confessions to follow enough to shame him for not cutting you off sooner—he should have been more thoughtful.

Or perhaps he noticed the way your eyes sparkled when you passed by an artwork, inquiring if you yourself, are a crafter. Your excitement to share your passions betraying your attempt to maintain intrigue. I

t’s okay, he finds the way you overshare the intricate details of your passion adorable even if he doesn’t understand the terminology.

For this reason, your first date may last far longer than you ever suspected.

Truthfully, you’ll notice fairly early on that Rengoku supports these pursuits. The Flame Hashira would not shy away from bringing back tokens of affection on his journeys.

If perhaps you were interested in seamstress work, he would bring back interesting hand-dyed patterns he had passed in the different regions. Eager to share them with you.

If perhaps you had a pension for reading, he would bring back any oddity transcript he had happened to pass along the journey home.

Ironically, while the Flame Pillar is able to elicit the smallest of details from you between honeyed words, and lending an ear, you will find that Rengoku will require some time to open up. Although this will not be as lengthy of a transgression as most of the other hashiras, it’s difficult for Kyojuro to share his vulnerabilities.

It will come, and such topics will be approached in time and naturally. Such as the first time you visit his home, and inquire of his mother, he will express with a distant gaze of her passing. You’ll know when the time to delve deeper will come, but until then, know that it’s not that he is attempting to conceal his past from you rather, he’s worried that it may change your opinion of him.

Dates with Kyojuro would be as diverse as the man himself. Some activities, will be energetic and playful. Implicative of childhood memories, challenging you to catching fireflies in the summer. Playfully daring you to a sparring match, maybe even sumo if the mood strikes him.

Other times, the dates will be intimate. As deep and connected as the conversations he elicits from you. Fingers interlocked, blazing glances. The touch of your footprints etched along the sand as you stroll through the beach with one another. Nights gazing upon the stars, laid along his haori. Snuggled on the veranda as the day wanes, worn out from the hiking expedition he had spirited you away on.

In time, you’ll discover that Rengoku considers your happiness as though it were his own. He will do anything he can to bring the smile to your face, to light up your world whether in small gestures, or grand it does not matter. Whatever crosses his mind, he’s like a puppy eager to please.

Determined to stay at your side when work allows him to do so. Whether this means simply basking in your company while you pursue your passion, or attempting to assist you as you do so if sewing is your joy, you will have to place him in charge of simply handing you needles, he is not adept with thread.

He is so very, eager to please. At times, you may even feel that you are not meeting his expectations. In his over enthusiasm, you may feel rather than the gentle nudge he intended, that you are being shoved down the pursuit. Taking it at an expedited pace than you may prefer.

As with any relationship, this can lead to resentment, or inadequacy between the two of you, and really, he never intended for you to feel negatively. He genuinely wants to support all of your desires and pursuits, so much so, his over eagerness inflicted harm. If you choose to leave it to fester, you are both likely to end up battered and bruised, but should you choose to approach it rather than shy away from it, Rengoku will immediately apologize.

Again, all he ever wanted to do was support you—tell him how you view support that way you desire. A hug after a long day? Will do. A cup of tea while you work, he’s got the pot boiling, hands off, oh gods he will dutifully fight remind himself.

Just be sure to verbally praise his efforts, while he does these acts out of the goodness of his being, he still loves to be praised appreciated.

In fact, Rengoku is so eager to please, that you will discover rather quickly that his over generosity will lead to exhaustion, illness, or burnout. Whichever may come first.

To love the Flame Hashira, is to accept that there will be times in which you will need to fast guard his health, mental, emotional, and physical.

As I’ve already mentioned—he will neglect to do so himself, so this will be a long-term source of frustration for the both of you. One which you will likely have to repeat for years to come. but, it’s why you love him.

Along with the herbal treatments Shinobu will gift you, you will also have to make sure that he has regular interactions with his friends, and reassure him that you will enjoy your night at home, or with your own friends while he does so. He is so prone to prioritizing you, that his other relationships often fall to the waste side.

The gentle reminder, and encouragement to pursue these connections will be greatly appreciated, and do his heart some good. He is after all, a social butterfly. With the verbal reassurance, he will greatly appreciate your attention to his needs.

Don’t worry, he’ll behave regardless of where Tengen’s antics lead him.

When he falls, he falls hard. Like a meteor crashing to earth, embedding the earth’s surface. Permanently carved across the exterior, Rengoku is a goner.

For all that he is willing to give to you, every ounce of his time, his energy, his affections, his very heart, Kyojuro expects the same commitment from you as well.

In love, Rengoku is highly in tune with his partner. He’s able to sense the shifting of moods, of growing needs. He is the ultimate cheerleader, and will always be your side.

Rengoku, as you already know is a family man, and friends are at the center of his universe. Regardless of how dedicated he is to these relationships; he will always ensure that he has time to spend with you.

Just be sure to remind him to engage with others from time to time, he is at risk of getting lost in you. don’t let him lose himself in you.

As a partner, Kyojuro is understanding, and when it comes to understanding your needs, he is quick to adapt. Rather, he has a natural ability to care for those around him, and read the room. Should you have an off day from time to time, he is quick to overlook it as he retains the best version of yourself that he has grown to know.

Eager to please, quick to assist you whether it’s washing dishes, chopping vegetables, hanging the laundry, or even more intensive tasks such as hauling water from the mountains. He thrives with a happy and supportive partner, and as long as he is cared for in the same regards. He will not blink regardless of the requests you make of him.

Rather, one of the most difficult obstacles you are likely to encounter is the Flame Hashira’s inability to relinquish his burdens. While he understands that any part of a healthy relationship is carrying one another’s loads, he struggles with the concept of burdening you with his own.

Far too willing to accept yours as his own, but stubborn to accept your aide. Nor confess his desires for you to offer. Yet, the moment you break through his façade, he will crumble.

Tears that roll through a smile, joyful to have been accepted. To be supported. The child who had to accept the loss of his mother, to care for a small child well beyond his age, and capabilities. The very child who had met nothing but disapproval and rejection, embraced in your support.

Hold him.

You are a source of true joy, and meaning in his life.

It goes without much saying that Rengoku is a very, very protective lover. Alongside his natural desire to shield others, you have garnished a special place in his heart, and he will rise to any threat that pursues you.

A demon, he will stand between you and death. If someone has infringed upon your honor, he will safe guard your reputation without a moment’s notice. Should the situation require it, blows will be traded. He will always, protect you.

Where a lot of the other Hashiras have their difficulties with communication, you will not find this is the case for Rengoku. In fact, it’s rather the opposite.

In the event you yourself struggle with communication; he is quick to adapt. He’s open, and engaging, and if you find your struggling, don’t worry yourself too much. Kyojuro will adapt to suit your communication needs. If you are the type to need space, he’s more than okay with this.

Openly express that you need a moment he still needs the reassurance that your love is his own, and he will happily give you the time you need. If you are a fast talker, well, he is more than capable of matching your speed.

Truly, the only difficulty that you will meet in conveying yourself to one another, is in the event you are jump with loud noises. Remember, he doesn’t necessarily for his voice to boom. It’s his enthusiasm, but with his damaged ear drum, you will find that he’s naturally… loud.

After succumbing to hearing damage with his encounter with the flute demon, he struggles to hear soft voices. Patience, and adaptive communication, you’ll have this sorted out in no time—and your relationship will be better for it.

The first time you utilize this communication (signing), he will gush. To do something such as learn another language for him. he’s melting.

The embrace he will trap you in upon realization of your fingers moving, the words falling between your gestures. It’s going to hurt, snap your spine, and force the air from your lungs, hurt. Mitsuri warned you. He doesn’t mean for it to; he’s just so happy.

The playful, bashful laugh as he runs his fingers through his hair upon realizing how he openly grasped you in public.

While the swordsman is communicative, there will also be points in your relationship where you will notice he has a slight passive aggressive side to him.

His intentions are never to hurt you, but the reality is that Rengoku was not given a lot of opportunities to appropriately navigate tension in relationships. In these moments, you will have to re-center yourself.

Remember your boundaries, and your worth, remember that you love him. Compassion will go a long way with him, and give him space to work through what little thing has set this agitation into play. He really is sorry. He didn’t intend for his jealousy to ebb him that way, and what was such a little thing—he told himself that your attention to the grocer was nothing to concern himself with, and yet, that small piece of him nagged.

Succumbed to his own low self-esteem, and thought, perhaps, maybe you were interested.

While the Flame Hashira is not one to back down from a physical challenge he loves the opportunity to prove his growth as a swordsman, Kyojuro is quick to avoid confrontation in his relationships.

He favors harmony between the two of you, and a majority of the time, will avoid it at all costs. You mean so much to him, he really doesn’t want to fight. He just wants to snuggle.

Yet, disagreements are a natural part of any relationship, and when they rear their ugly heads, he is willing to do just about anything to disperse them as fast as he can. His haste actually puts even the smallest of disagreements at risk of maturing, and infecting, left unresolved over time.

However, as long as he is given the appropriate space, and by which, I mean, you reassure him that he is as valued to you as you are to him, he will rise to the challenge, and face the spat head on.

In reality, Rengoku is one of the Hashira at risk of jealousy. There may be moments where jealousy and low self-esteem fuel tension between the two of you.

While at times he appears to be the most confident member of the Demon Slayers Corps, the reality is that from time to time, distant whispers of his life will surface. Hushed reminders of doubt, of worthlessness. In these times, he is sensitive to things around him.

Such as another person openly attempting to engage you in flirting. He is mature enough to know that it is not your fault, nor does he intend to burden you with his past but it’s still a part of him.

It’s rare, far and few between that these moments surface, but there will be times in which they are dredged from the depths. At these times, jealousy may follow.

Because of this, it’s important to note that Kyojuro is a loyal partner, and as long as his self-esteem is intended to appropriately, you will find no more a devote partner. Through thick and thin, he will always stand at your side, but should his needs be ignored, he is not validated, and trust break down in the relationship...

I would say that he is at risk of straying outside of your relationship parameters. and he is horribly ashamed for the betrayal

One thing that you will have to understand in moving forward in a relationship with the Flame Hashira, is that Kyojuro places a large importance of continuing on his blood line, and duties.

While it’s true that he is accepting of Senjuro’s rejection of the responsibilities of being a demon slayer, he still feels a source of pride that his brother lives on. Because of this, I believe that Rengoku would want a few children of his own—not that he would ever force them to undertake his position.

Rather, I suspect much like he embraced Senjuro’s break from tradition, he would support the childrens deviation. If in the event one of them did decide to accept the obligation, I don’t feel that Rengoku would draw special attention to this from the other children.

I suspect that he would boast about ALL of his children’s accomplishments regardless if it were slaying a difficult demon, tending to children of their own, or embarking on their studies. Really, he would just want them to pursue their dreams regardless of what route they may follow, but this does mean, children are in your future.

For Kyojuro, he thrives on words of affirmation. To be openly praised, shamelessly bragged on whether it’s his attention to details, his dutiful physical tasks, or even adoration for him having picked up dinner, he thrives on this attention. It’s the fastest way to ensure that he feels important in your relationship, and treasured.

For the Flame breather, words of affirmation come just as easily as breathing. In fact, he’s quick to disburse his praise, and it takes absolutely no effort on his part.

He will shower you in applaud. Shamelessly declare you the best partner of all, regardless of your surroundings. If this is your love language, you are in luck because he will satisfy every flattery you could ever hope for.

In fact, at times he may go overboard and risk it falling on meaningless applause.

If in the event that it’s not, it’s okay that you’re shy from the private eye. He’ll learn to whisper it in private moments rather than so openly, but it will take some adjusting.

In terms of gift giving, I also see this being a strong suit of his. He has no aversions to physical intimacy, nor shies away from displaying it in public. I suspect that he would be more than content to lay his head in your lap, stare lovingly into your eyes, brush the strands of hair that fall before your eyes behind your ears.

The fire of his desire is not one to stray, but I imagine that he would comfortably the role of physical affections. Fingers interlocked during strolls, and allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder when you are tired.

Although his over enthusiasm for your touch may result in a few moments turning heated. are you really mad though?

The Flame Hashira would also be fairly forth taking with gift giving; his travels for missions have him sprouted all throughout the region, and his overly thoughtfulness will result in him bringing you a wide variety of tokens of affections.

This little kappa reminded him of how you loved to soak in the bath, this flower it’s dead, but it was as beautiful as you in its prime, this bento has your favorite snack in it—you get it.

Where ever he travels, you are always on his mind, and as long as you express your appreciation, he will never hesitate to bring home present after present, after offering of devotion.

He’s giving, overly so. Prepare yourself.

Acts of service is without a doubt, going to be met. As it’s already been expressed, whatever you ask of him, he will more than deliver.

Asked him to bring water down from the mountains? Oh, he did, he also utilized it to wash the laundry, hang it to dry, and utilized the leftover to prepare a warm bath for you.

He is literally a man of service.

Ultimately, I believe the area in which Rengoku would struggle to express his affections is actually in the quality time together department.

It’s not that he doesn’t savor moments with you, he adores the opportunity to have you at his side. However, the Flame Hashira’s determination to serve, leads him to feel that any, ANY small moment can result in restlessness.

He should be doing something. He should fold laundry. He should run you through self-defense drills to ensure you are safe while he is away, he should—his mind struggles to rest. He really and truly, is eager to serve.

SO much so that if your needs rely on quality time spent together, you will have to quiet the doubt of his mind. Reassure him that the extra time in bed together in the late morning, is all you need to be happy.

The reality is, to be in love with Rengoku is to know support. It’s to know devotion, and unwavering loyalty. To have someone always in your corner, always on your side regardless if you are in fact, wrong. It’s to know dedication, and warm smiles. To savor sweet words, as sincere as the heart they blaze from. It’s to know that despite the distances you may face, you are always on his mind. In his heart. To be loved by the Fire Hashira is to know the passion of the heart, of devotion, of the flesh. It’s to know that you are everything to him, your bond as close as destiny itself. To be loved by Kyojuro is to know love, the depths of a flame so smoldered and that the ardor will never be snubbed out. It is to be truly embraced as you are for who you are. A romance secured by soft touches, endless praise, unwavering support in pursuits of joy. To know that you are his joy. To know that he will love you.

Even in death.

In this life.

And the next

#kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku x reader #flame hashira #TheHashirasinaRelationship

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coatl-cuddles · 3 days ago

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I'm about to go insane

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firefly9587 · 3 months ago

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Foreshadowing for the dawn ember becoming the king

We know one of these kids is going to get corrupted by power, and therefore probably be the king. I think it's dawn ember, based right now on their mask.

What I've highlighted here aren't ears, you can see those behind the mask. Instead they are the only kid on this boat whose mask has these subtle points. Points that we all know who to associate those with. And their story seems to start in isle of dawn which checks. There are some issues though. Mainly that the king fell from the sky, and this kid seems to have a guardian/parent of some kind already.

Interestingly people have already pointed out that this character has the same hairstyle, dress and proportions as the one that dies in the runaway quest. Dies whilst bringing a child to the isle of dawn. This pretty much retcons the kid falling from the sky in the isle. But maybe tgc have a plan, or maybe they will just retcon that who knows. They've been working on this animation for a while and I wouldn't be surprised if the latest seasons have all had foreshadowing. We already see a battle with krills in both the seed aurora quest and in the trailer. And they suddenly added the hopeful steward when aviary could have worked fine with the disembodied voice that normally tells us what to do. Hopeful steward is likely the dusk ember, and the dawn ember is likely the king. Excited to find out if I'm correct.

#sky cotl #sky children of the light #that sky game #sky cotl lore #sky theories #sky lore #sky cotl king

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the-lonelybarricade · 4 months ago

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What Do You Know About Love - (7/?)

Summary: When Elain discovers a centuries old love letter, written in secret and never sent, she decides that she's going to be the one to finally deliver it. Even if finding its intended recipient means going on a mission with Lucien Vanserra. Set post ACoSF.

A contribution to @elucienweekofficial Day 7: Tension/Healing

Chapter 7 - Push and Pull

Read on AO3 ・Previous Chapter

It was true what they said about the Celestial Courts. The seasons changed with the natural cycles of the world, which in itself was unusual, but the skies—they were unparalleled to anything she’d seen before.

She’d slipped away from the party to glimpse it in full, and was pleased to have found a small veranda laden with overstuffed pillows and a heavy cloth drape she pulled for privacy. Her father would be red in the face if he caught her collapsing into one of the pillows when she could be preening the ego of a High Lord’s son. Which was precisely why, moments prior, she’d tactically set one of the High Priestess’s acolytes upon him by exaggerating her father’s interest in the traditional rites of a Day Court Equinox.

From her estimates, she’d afforded herself at least an hour before he realized his middle daughter was missing, and perhaps an hour more before he discovered her hiding spot.

It didn’t matter that he would be furious. Her feet ached from the hours of dancing, and the relief of removing her shoes for even a second would be worth his temper.

She kicked the embroidered boots to the side and collapsed back into the large pillows, releasing a breath she was certain she’d been holding in all evening. Already, she felt much more refreshed—enough to manage her first genuine smile as she blinked at the horizon sprawled before her, glowing against the night as if someone had arranged a line of embers across the bottom of the sky.

“If you think our dawn is beautiful, you should stay long enough to see our dusk.”

With a scream, she clambered to her feet and whirled to find a male holding the curtain aloft, his mask a streak of gold in the dim light.

He laughed. A deep, rumbling sound that she would have mistaken for thunder had she not watched it shake his chest. “Pardon the intrusion, Lady, I’m—”

“I know who you are,” she breathed, taking in his bright eyes, the shape of his jaw, the warmth that radiated from him as if she was standing before a roaring bonfire. Even in the residual night, with the moon disappeared and the sun still tucked away, their small alcove seemed to light with his presence.

She would know who he was, even if she did not recognize his face.

He offered her a broad smile. “And how might I acquire the same honor?”

“The same as you would acquire anything,” she said. “By offering something of equal value in exchange.”

One of the male’s dark eyebrows lifted over his mask, amused by her game. In truth he was a Prince, and he could acquire such information simply by demanding it.

“Then you’ve set me an impossible task,” he said. “There is nothing I could offer you that’s of equal value.”

Oh, he was a flirt. And she couldn’t deny it thrilled her.

“No?” she took a step toward him, the sun-warmed stone tingling against her bare feet. “I’ve heard that you have troves of gold.”

“I could empty my coffers and it still wouldn’t be sufficient,” he said grimly.

She laughed. “And your thousand libraries? Surely they contain knowledge of greater importance.”

“I assure you, Lady, the ancient scholars would be left unrewarded from such a pursuit.”

This time, he was the one to take a step, drawing her attention to the golden sandals lacing up his muscular calves. He paused once he was in front of her, and gently perched his thumb beneath her chin to draw her eyes back to his.

Her words became breathless. “Then are you saying, milord, that you have nothing to offer me?”

“Not nothing, Lady. Though I hope you will take pity on me, for my offer is humble. I would like to volunteer my company for the evening.”

She pretended to consider this. “Can you dance?”

“Yes,” he said. “For as long as you wish.”

He offered his hand to her, and she stared at it for a long moment before placing her palm atop his. The touch of his skin against her own sent a zap of heat through her body, and she gasped as it triggered a sharp tug in her chest.

His amber eyes softened, all too knowing.

“I accept your offer,” she said. “On the condition that we stay out here.”

She imagined her father wouldn’t be pleased to see her dancing with the Day Court Prince when she was supposed to be making nice with the sons of Autumn.

“Wherever you wish,” he said with an agreeable nod. “Although, it will be hard to hear the music from out here.”

“You let me worry about that,” she said, raising her palm to mimic the starting position of an Autumnal Waltz. His eyes never once waivered from her face as he mirrored her stance.

And then she began humming.

A soft, haunting melody tangled with the steady rhythm of footsteps, and beneath, a distant, beaconing heartbeat. It started in time with the melody, but as it grew louder it fell out of tempo, beginning to drown out the song. Elain resisted its call at first, wanting to linger in the rippling memory—a woman, humming, her voice warm and sweet, like sun-soaked apples and spiced wine.

Elain thought she recognized the melody, but when she tried to grasp it, curling her fist around the soft notes, the thread of memory tightened, then yanked, vaulting her towards the thundering heartbeat.

A headache. That’s what the pounding was—her own blood, violently pumping through her skull. Though as Elain peeled her eyes open to the dim bedroom, she half expected to find someone standing above her, rapping their fist against her forehead.

Every curtain was drawn, sealing out any allusion to the time of day. She groaned softly, raising her palm to her temple in the hopes she could massage the throbbing pain away. It was difficult to convince herself to wander out of the safety of her dark bedroom, but the need for water won over.

She was still wearing the blue gown she’d arrived in, now creased in odd places from sleep, and she hadn’t the slightest idea where the clothes she packed for the journey had ended up.

“Lucien?” she called, parting the curtains to the central room of their shared suite.

The Eagle fountain stood proudly in the center, liquid still flowing from its beak. Nausea churned in her stomach as she recalled how its water had burst the room into light and color, sweeping around and around her. And yet, even as her head thudded and her nose crinkled in repulsion, the back of her mouth began salivating, recalling its sweet taste.

Elain tore her eyes away from the statue, pushing the chant of its soft trickle to the back of her mind before it could tempt her into another sip. Her eyes wandered to the two other curtains, once which led to Lucien’s bedroom, presumably, and the other… to a bright seam of light.

So it was day time.

Elain carefully picked her way through the maze of multicolored pillows littering the floor, her steps impaired by her wavering balance and the sharp lance of pain that shocked through her skull each time she bobbed her head.

When she reached the wine colored drape, she paused, certain that the light on the other side would be excruciating. But her mouth was so dry, and she thought, surely, if she could find someone, they would know the remedy for this hangover?

With a deep breath, Elain pushed open the curtains, cringing back from the full intensity of the morning sun. It was angled in the perfect position to pour directly across her face.

She held up her hand to block its path, squinting to take in the details of the surrounding private garden. As she searched, her eyes landed on a tapered waist rising from a large pool of steaming water. Lucien’s back was turned, oblivious to her arrival as he reached up to run his fingers through his wet hair and inadvertently flexed every corded muscle in his arms and back.

Elain shrieked, causing Lucien to whirl around, and she shrieked again—staggering backwards before she risked seeing the front of him nude. In her haste, she tripped over the drapes, and though they slowed her descent, she still fell hard enough against her elbows for her teeth to clack together. It did nothing to help her worsening headache.

“You’re awake,” Lucien said, rushing to the edge of the pool, like he intended to help her before the nature of their predicament dawned on him. She watched him cover himself in her periphery. “I—sorry. I thought you’d be sleeping for a while yet.”

“Why aren’t there any locks in this place?” she complained as she sat up to rub her sore elbow. She was deliberately looking anywhere but his direction.

“I already told you,” he said, and she could hear his smugness seeping in, “baths are communal in the Day Court. I thought I was being courteous by taking mine while you were asleep.”

Elain squeezed her eyes shut. It was her attempt to both block out the stabbing pain behind her eyes and the image of his naked backside.

“I need water,” she said, desperate to change the subject. “And clothes. And something to get rid of this godforsaken headache.”

“That’s what you get when you drink a full mug of ambrosia,” he said, with hardly any sympathy.

“You didn’t warn me about this part.”

“I seem to recall not having a chance to.”

Elain shook her head in exasperation, then immediately regretted it when the pain ratched skywards in intensity, causing her to clench her teeth and drop her head into her hands. If she could squeeze hard enough to end her misery right then, she would have.

His voice softened. “Go back inside—I’ll be there in a second.”

Feeling rather pathetic, Elain retreated back into the safety of the dimly lit lounge, depositing herself atop a pile of pillows as she tried not to listen too closely to the sounds of water sluicing off Lucien’s body.

Moments later, the curtains parted to reveal Lucien, his skin and hair still damp from the pool. He’d tugged on a pair of loose-flowing trousers but was still bare from the waist up. She could feel the heat from the water curling off him as he dropped to the ground in front of her, perching on the balls of his feet.

He surveyed her sorry state and sighed. With a wave of his hand, his traveling pack appeared beside them, and he began rifling through its contents until he procured a small tin. He popped the lid open with his thumb, revealing a handful of powdered orbs, each roughly the same size and shape of a marble.

“Here,” he said, plucking one of them from the tin and holding it up to her lips. “Place it under your tongue and suck on it—don’t swallow,” he added sternly.

Elain recoiled. “What happens if I swallow it?”

“Must you question everything?”

She only blinked at him, refusing to part her lips until he told her.

“So stubborn,” he grumbled, though she swore there was an underlying warmth to it. “If you swallow it, it won’t work. Do you trust me?”

Elain gave him a hard stare. His lips twitched.

“If you don’t trust me, you’re going to have a very hard time here, Elain. You know I’d never put you in harm's way.”

She did know that, even if she didn’t want to admit it. The same way that she couldn’t bear the thought of harming him.

Begrudgingly, Elain parted her lips and tilted her head back. Lucien’s throat bobbed, but his touch was nothing but clinical as he leaned forward and dropped the small orb onto her tongue.

She immediately scrunched her face together, and Lucien slapped a broad hand over her mouth to stop her from spitting it out. It tasted vile—like licking a piece of rusted metal.

“I know,” he said, his voice coaxing. “It’s horrible, but it will make the headache go away. It’s getting better already, isn’t it?”

Elain’s eyes were beginning to water. She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, but he was right. Her thoughts were no longer suspended between bright, pulsing bursts of pain.

The throbbing was easing back in slow tugs, moored like a ship being hauled from a sandbank. But saliva collected in her mouth like a flooding tide, wetting the powder around the pill, and the tugging became easier. Less of a tug and more a glide. It was receding faster now.

Lucien read her posture well enough to see she’d relaxed. He dropped her palm and offered a grim smile. “Better?”

Elain nodded, shoulders slumping in relief.

“Good,” Lucien said, rising to his feet. “Because the next part is pretty gross.” She watched him warily as he held a cupped palm in front of her lips. “Spit it out.”

Elain shot him a look that said, What?

“Quickly,” he urged.

Into his hand? Were there no options? Lucien’s fingers flexed, urging her to hurry, and Elain sensed that she would regret delaying over human primness.

Elain spat the orb into Lucien’s waiting hand, watching in horror as its surface split open to reveal several long, spindly legs breaking free of its constraint. She screamed as Lucien hurled the creature to the floor and stamped it beneath his foot.

“It was an egg!?” Elain pressed her hand to her mouth in horror, holding back a gag. Her voice rose in pitch as betrayal coursed through her, hot and boiling. “You made me suck on an insect’s egg?”

Lucien winced, lifting his foot to reveal the mangled, flattened corpse. His lips curled in disgust as he inspected the guts sticking to the bottom of his bare foot. He still hadn’t responded to her outrage.

Elain launched to her feet, giving the insect a wide berth. “I can’t believe you!”

“Would you have taken it?” He asked. “If you knew what it was?”

“No!” She cried. “And that’s not a good enough reason to not have told me!”

“Elain—”

“Don’t talk to me,” she snapped, storming toward the drapes that led to her designated bedroom. “Just—just leave me alone, Lucien.”

She threw open the red cloth, wishing that there were doors in this gods forsaken palace so that she could slam it in his face. And though there was nothing to keep him from pushing the curtains aside, he halted on the other side of the limp barrier.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “Do you… do you still want me to bring you some food? I can leave it out here.”

Elain said nothing in answer. She didn’t know what to do with herself, alone in this room. In this Court. She hugged her arms around her body and sat on the bed, listening to the steady heartbeat on the other side of the curtain as Lucien waited for an answer.

Waited, and then realized he wasn’t going to get one.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll ask a servant to bring you some. Just in case.”

Elain listened to his footsteps retreat, holding it together just until she was certain he’d left their suite entirely. And only then did she allow herself to grab one of the pillows from the bed and fling it toward the wall, pretending it was his stupid, handsome face.

#What Do You Know About Love?#Elucien #Elucien fic #Elucien fanfic #Elucien fanfiction #elucienweek2024 #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain

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mcgnagallsarmy · 8 months ago

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Spuffy style Reading Challenge - #28: Alphabet Soup Challenge #2

At Ease by The Danish Bird [NC-17]

Even with her eyes closed, Buffy would recognise this place in a second, and for a moment she wondered if she truly had ended up in a hell dimension this time. One that had doomed her to an eternity of Doublemeat Palace workdays. Buffy felt her lips moving, heard her own voice speaking, and as she opened her eyes she decided that a hell dimension definitely wasn’t ruled out just yet. “Welcome to the Doublemeat Palace, how may I help – “ She stared into Riley’s scarred face as she completed her sentence. “– you.” Her mom, Sunnydale, her home, Spike – There are many things Buffy misses in her life, but if she had gotten the choice to revisit a day that had already passed, this would so not be it!

The Bad Penny by OffYourBird [R]

Six years ago, Buffy made a home in a new dimension with a Spike who defied every rule to be by her side. Now it’s time to put to rest unfinished business in her original dimension. However, a visit there quickly turns apocalyptic, and at the heart of it is the two vampires who set Buffy's original journey in motion, and both of them have a lot of explaining to do.

Christmas Date by bewildered [NC-17]

Christmas Eve in Cleveland, 2004. Holiday request from Dark. Squeaking it in for the end of the Christmas Season. (It's only the 9th day of Christmas! That counts!)

Drive by Holly [NC-17]

Freshly turned and very grumpy about it, Buffy finds herself in a weird place. One where her friends smell like food, her former mortal enemy smells like heaven, and the so-called love of her life has made it clear that killing her is on his to-do list. Throw in some overly zealous army guys and this is not Buffy's idea of a party. So she and Spike decide to hit the road at least long enough to figure out why neither of them can hit anything else. And since they're both single and free, well, Buffy wouldn't say no to a distraction from the never-ending laugh riot that is her life. And Spike can be very, very distracting. Good thing soulless vampires can't fall in love or she might be in trouble.

Embers by Dusty [NC-17]

Spike's the best boyfriend. He fulfills all of Buffy's fantasies. All of them.

Favor by EllieRose101 [NC-17]

Spike asks an impossible thing of Buffy––and is stunned when she says yes. Could he really have gone up in her estimation?

Golden Hour by kennedynoelle [R]

Response to a challenge set by emilise: Spike never came to Sunnydale during the first few seasons. The first time Buffy sees him is during The Harsh Light of Day, sunbathing on campus adorned with the Gem of Amara. Oh no, she thinks, the pit of her stomach dropping and sending tinglies all over, he's hot. They start dating, Buffy unaware that her new boyfriend is a member of the undead. Of course, she has to find out eventually…

The Halloween Series by spike_spetslayer [NC-17]

Buffy and Spike make an unbreakable pact during their first real confrontation in Season 2. Story includes spoilers from season 2 through season 7.

If I Loved You Less by MillennialCryBaby [NC-17]

How long had Spike been gone? 147 days. 148 at midnight. Except maybe today won't count?

Just to Reach You by Sunalso [R]

Post-Series. Spike and Buffy have been a couple for almost two years. The honeymoon is over and together they're discovering they still have a lot to learn about themselves, each other, and how this whole "normal" relationship thing works.

Kaleidoscope by Lirazel [PG-13]

"Can you tell me, is this love that I'm seeing?" One by one, the people in Buffy and Spike's lives try to add up the obvious.

Let it Burn! by Axell [Adult Only]

Her eyes followed the blood. Summers blood. She counted the drops. Ten. Then it stopped. If Dawn dies, I’m through. I don’t want to live in a world if these are the choices. Slowly, her head rose up. Their eyes met. Green and amber. A look passed between them then a nod. Her own voice echoed into her mind. I’m counting on you. To avenge her. Us. He made a promise. Until dusk will swallow them all.

Melting Fire by Freecat [R]

Set right after Dead Things. The night after, all he wants is talk. The night after, there’s nothing she wants less than talking. And suddenly they find themselves in another dimension; one that Buffy can’t leave. There’s only one way to get her out. A way with consequences.

Night Swimming by Geliot99 [R]

An unexpected heatwave in mid-March is reason enough for an impromptu pool party for the Scoobies. But when Richard takes a second stab* at winning Buffy's affections, Spike is all too keen to show her how much fun night swimming with a vampire can really be… *see what I did there? Set between 'Older and Far Away' and 'As You Were'

One Step Away by violettathepiratequeen [PG]

Spike knows the way she dances. Not even Faith in Buffy's body can fool him.

Pardon My French by Girlytek [R]

In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to let Buffy perform a spell in French. Begins at No Place Like Home.

Quake by Holly [NC-17]

Following Tutor. Riley's kiss did nothing for her, which clearly means her night with Spike didn't take. But since the world is probably ending, Buffy decides one more lesson couldn't hurt.

Rock Solid by Passion4Spike [NC-17]

Buffy comes to some realizations about herself, the nature of her love, and her feelings for Spike on the eve of the biggest fight of her life, but will it be too little, too late? Spoiler Alert: No, it won’t.

Something Blue's Clues by cawthraven [PG-13]

Willow is just fed up with the way Buffy and Spike act around each other. What are they, five?

Timelines,Schmimelines by bookishy [NC-17]

When Buffy’s sent back to her first year of college to retrieve an artifact for the future, she ends up on the day of the first inaugural Christmas Party at Casa del Xander. Or, time travel meets its greatest match, and that match is alcohol.

Under The Influence by NautiBitz [NC-17]

A few nights after their engagement spell, Buffy has to watch Spike. Problem is, a psychedelic demon may have just spritzed her with a mind-altering substance. Will Spike seize the moment? Or will they just end up naked? HMMM.

Vampire In Charcoal by Geliot99 [NC-17]

Hiring out her mother's art gallery for classes had been a stroke of genius, but when the life model for the upcoming class comes down with the flu and an extremely unsuitable replacement is found last minute, Buffy is faced with a lot more of her nemesis than she was ever anticipating.

where the shadow ends by disco-tea [R]

For 147 days, Spike and Dawn grieve Buffy. This is a story of a vampire and a Key who try to cope with the loss of the one person who meant the most to them…and how they became a family along the way.

Xerox by Holly [R]

Spike and Buffy leave Angel a parting gift.

You Learn by bramcrackers [Adult Only]

When Buffy learns about Angel’s history with Drusilla, she can’t ignore how he seems to keep everything about his past to himself unless forced. How can she love someone she doesn’t even know? A trip to a local mage later, she’s plunged headfirst into Angel’s entire sordid history in a series of visions. And dealing with all of that would have been a hell of a lot easier if Spike hadn’t somehow been pulled into it, happy to add the color commentary.

Zero by kantayra [NC-17]

Trapped together in an icy prison, Buffy and Spike find one way to turn up the heat.

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #spuffy #ficrec #reading challenges #elysianholly #dustyfics #tvylrswift #sunalsolove #violettathepiratequeen #bramcrackerswrites

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