#shadow carmine wine

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Pearlcatcher Female

Shadow / Carmine / Wine , Fern / Paisley / Ringlets

Plague Bright

[terry-perry]

Out of Business

Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader

The next part of this

Tags: @mysterypotatoink @lokis-imaginary-friend @lonelysimp18 @readergirlstuff @amyking300 @for-hearthand-home @wonderlandfandomkingdom @purple-umbrella-girl @saccharine-nectarine @monomas-girl @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @junieshohoho @yourmom132 @thebreadisthetruevillian @martinys-world @yui-onnero

He lurked in the background, observing the lovely doe before him grazing on grass. She was a sweet thing that was none the wiser of his presence as he slowly snuck up towards her.

He did his best to muffle the static radiating off him. He was normally able to keep it under control, but lately, he'd been out of sorts. He could deny it as much as he wanted, but everyone knew what was happening. Further proof came in how he spotted the markings of a nearby tree as he got closer to the doe, leading him to release an audible growl, alerting the doe of his presence.

It was too late for her, however, since a large, dark tentacle pierced her middle, killing her in an instant. He pounced on the carcass and took a giant chunk of it by ripping it with his teeth. For the majority of the time, he isn't so primal with his food and takes his time with it. That day and the past few had him unreasonably angry at everyone and everything.

He was mad at Carmilla for speaking with him, Y/N for not giving him a chance to explain himself, and at himself for letting her go. At that moment, he was mad at what was carved on the tree, which now looked over him and made him feel more judged for his recent actions.

It didn't help that he still remembered how the markings got there...

Months ago...

"Husker, my good man! I need you to serve only the finest bottle of wine tonight, you hear?!"

Everyone was caught off guard by Alastor's presence, seeing him trudge down the hotel stairs more animated than usual.

"I want things to be 100% top-notch this evening for me and my gal,"

"Aww, Alastor," Charlie approached him at the bar with curiosity and intrigue. "Do you have a friend stopping by?"

"Suppose you can say that," Alastor replied, still practically beaming as his shadow was conjured up with a mirror so he could adjust his bowtie and spruce up his hair. "I'm inviting a special someone to the hotel. Someone I've grown accustomed to after spending time with her."

"Oh shit! Am I hearing things right?!" Angel was the next to approach Alastor after hearing this bombshell. "Big, scary Alastor found someone he's willing to get it on with?"

Alastor snapped his head away from his reflection to glare at Angel, but it was only a second or two before regaining his composure. "I wouldn't put it so crudely, but yes. I have been courting someone."

Charlie practically squealed upon hearing the news. "That's great! I'm so happy to hear such news! She must be quite special to get you so happy and want to make this a lovely night for you both."

"Special, or out of her fuckin' mind..." Husk grumbled from the bar so only Vaggie, who joined the rest of the group, could hear and silently nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, my dear. I do request one thing. My lady love is a very private person and would rather keep our relationship under wraps for the time being. I assume you all can refrain from any gossip that can be conjured from our romance."

"Of course! Your secret is safe-"

"Why exactly do we need to keep this a secret?" Vaggie interrupted her girlfriend to offer the usual suspicion she reserved just for him. "You're not trying to rope us into some shady business, are you?"

Alastor refrained from rolling his eyes. She was always so distrustful.

His relationship with Y/N might've started as a potential business and a possible deal, especially since it was so easy to capture her heart so her soul would've been no problem. The more time spent with her, however, it instead was slowly turning into something else - something dearer that left him so unsure. Instead of him getting something out of her, he always made sure she'd want for absolutely nothing, no soul required.

He wondered how he could've gone through life and death not knowing such an endearing, trusting darling. She was kind and gentle but didn't possess any of the bubbly naivete Charlie did. She was not only aware of where they were but also came from a family of assailants and weapons dealers who raised her to be alert and to fend for herself. He both feared and admired that along with how she accepted him for who he was and never judged the darkest parts of himself.

It was all so new and a bit alarming, whatever this was. He just knew he had to keep a good hold on it--

----

Alastor's thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at his door. No doubt Charlie chose to stop by to check on him after he charged back to the hotel a few days ago, after his fallout with Y/N.

It wasn't the princess' dulcet tones that implored him, however, after some insistent knocking. Instead, Alastor heard a more unwelcoming voice that under more proper circumstances he'd find entertaining.

"Alastor?" Vaggie continued to call out to him outside his room. "Come on, let me in. We need to talk."

[neciebee]

I'm sorry I've been absent for a while, so here's a copy paste from my brain when it was addled but not broken.

Azriel's spectrum

Azriel's shadows show more than facts. Their wavelengths communicate feelings that he has trouble translating for the Inner Circle. Although his family can sometimes observe his shadows as an absence of light, he can communicate with them as if they were characters in a cartoon of his daily life. Despondent over this inability to merge his two worlds, he tries to anthropomorphise his loudest contributors.

~

He himself is cobalt. His strength and potency radiates from his siphons. He has his brute strength, he has his wings, but his most defining feature has been the pure killing power he channels through his siphons. The secrets of his shadows is his own private universe. He may share his cobalt with his family, but the shades are his own.

Rhys is indigo. He has been in his mind. He has seen his fears. Nothing can come between him and his brother, as all agonises are shared. Indigo is a deep, long representation of his own blue. It's darker, more harmful, more sinister. Rhys has a power no other can match, but currently, so does Azriel.

Cassian is carmine. Many have died for this colour. There has been so much suffering to attain this hue. Despite cutting down eons of victims, Cass has retained his vibrancy and vividness throughout his centuries of murder. That he is the Lord of Bloodshed cements his affinity to this colour. Red flows when Cassian is at his peak.

Feyre is mauve. She is delicate but perseverant. Although many colours seek to dull her shine, the blend of the many often attains the hue of their High Lady. She can be soft. She can be deep. But most of all, she welcomes the ones she loves.

Mor is burgundy. Wine. Falsehoods. Deception. Intoxication. Imitation. Lies. Do not trust her. Unless she was raised in the French Province of Burgundy. She is the distillation of downfall unless she is appropriately stored within strong oak barrels. If you and she are amenable, limited exposure to her may be freeing and will bring ecstacy. More likely than not, you will lose your inhibitions and do something you regret.

Elain is lilac. Floral and unobtrusive. She's everywhere and nowhere at once. You might not sense her, but her influence is pervasive. She might just be a shadow in the corner of your eye and you'll forget she's there, but she's there more often than you remember. Her scent may influence your subconscious. If she wants to affect you, either she sees a future where that would be beneficial, or it would lead to her developing powers or mateship. She is thirsty without letting anyone know about it.

Nesta is silver. Shiny and more valuable than her weight. She can be a rough ingot who cares little about how you shape her, or the most delicate filigree your most talented artisans know not how to design. Her value is strongest in what she could become, given the appropriate direction. Conductive and infinitely shapable, she has the power to topple Kings and forge new leaders.

Mother is storm cloud grey. Do not trust her. Do not love her. She brought the power to your primordial soup but she could not maintain your safety. Only through the culling of her weakest progeny could she bring forth your perfect mate. She loves you, but until she bonds with her mate, she cannot help you.

Amren is granite. Hard and unyielding, Amren can direct the flow of waters. Your river may be convoluted and hard to navigate, but all the twists and turns she guides you through are necessary to spill into the fertile delta of your court. She can see where you deviate, but will also know how to guide you along the correct path. Don't trust her, but look where her direction will take you.

Lucien is peach. He is such a sweet soul, especially having survived through so much hardship. There is a hard stone at his centre that no teeth could bite through. The colour is strong and pervasive, showing up in so many situations without dilution, but accommodating itself into the palette of the moment.

Eris is an intense orange, with tangerine undertones and mango highlights. It's a twist of warm, Autumn colours, so complex that he could spend years wallowing in its description. There's flecks of gold, connoting richness, and smears of sunny lemon, suggesting brightness. There are wisps of cocoa and coffee raising away from his pupils, indicating a sweet bitterness that could be soothed by his rich cream and sweet honey. Rings of amber encase their centuries of history. Hints of whisky and bourbon indicate how intoxicating this Fae was to him.

No, Azriel didn't think about Eris at all.

~

It matters not what I want from the shadowsinger, only what he wants from Autumn.

I can think of no better desire to advance Our People than to abide by his whims. He will listen. He will serve. He comes from the common folk. He loves us and I love him. You will grow to love him as we develop our lands. He is the key to our salvation. Join me and love him with me.

[vilnan]

in adoration

fandom: dragon age

rating: explicit (minors dni)

pairing: emmrich volkarin/rook (verena ingellvar)

word count: 1,060

A/N: a few days ago i was literally like "how are ppl writing datv fic when the game isn't even out yet" and now i'm apparently one of those people. 🙄 this contains no spoilers! it's just smut and feels, lmao.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Verena’s beautiful hands are shaking. They are delicate, soft; Emmrich has pressed his kiss on them countless of times, the amber brown skin warm under his lips. She likes to pet the back of his neck with them, fingers tangling into his hair as he whispers sweet nothings into her ear.

It is not particularly unusual for her to be like this, her anger is quick and unpredictable like a tsunami crashing to the Rivaini shores inflicting chaos in its wake. Her dark brown eyes blaze with unquenchable fire as she watches Emmrich now, her carmine coloured nails tapping her bare forearm.

She is gorgeous in her anger, and Emmrich’s breath catches.

He clears his throat and takes a sip of his orlesian wine that is a dreadful vintage to be quite honest. Too sweet to his tastes. He is older and has always preferred a more kick in his drinks. And in his partners.

He clears his throat, feeling a little hot under his high collar, as Verena continues to study him with an unreadable expression. Emmrich continues to stare at her, Verena continues to stare at him.

“What is the matter, my beloved?” he asks as the heavy silence stretches between them, cloaking them underneath its shadow.

read in ao3. ♥

[aaluminiumas]

You Shall Be Mine

Feel free to read my other works here.

Red ribbons of gathering mist are capturing your limbs, immobilizing you, depriving you of the ability to move. While these gusts of smoke seem imaginary, they penetrate your ears, eyes, and nostrils, aiming directly for the brain, trying to hook the tail of the restless tadpole safely nesting in your head. 

You’re trying to wrench free, but the ropes twine around your wrists and ankles, splaying you further, turning you into a peculiar specimen for alien research. As if intoxicated, you comply with the tentative touches of the vermillion cords, feeling a weird sense of apprehensive, inevitable comfort. It isn’t a cozy feeling; on the contrary, you are being inexorably put at ease like a fly entangled in a spider’s net. The spider, however, is not revealing itself: it’s hiding in the shadows, in the eddies of the scarlet smoke, waiting, preparing an ambush. 

“You shall be mine,” a calm, remotely familiar voice pierces the cloud, “From now on, you belong to me.” 

You cannot define the source of the voice, nor can you identify its owner, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. All you can do is watch the carmine fog disperse to disclose an enormous, sprawling shadow stepping forward. It stops for a second and bestows a predatory, devilish smile on you so that you discern the glistening fangs grazing across the lower lip. 

“You shall be mine,” the creature repeats in a low growl, extending his hands for you, “Forever.” 

You idly register the ivory skin stained with brownish blotches. The elongated claws are covered in some oozing viscous liquid, and you’re not sure you want to know what this is. Another bizarre thing is that you are not scared: while the creature is certainly intimidating, consternation refuses to chain your body. 

You know the Creature. You can’t quite grasp it; your brain fails to process it properly, but you perceive an inconceivable touch of familiarity in the feline gestures it greets you with. 

He knows you, too. 

The Creature is looming over you, enveloped in the scarlet cloud of mist curling behind his back. The monster reaches out to you, his bloodied claws brush across your jawline, and you feel a warm trail in their wake, but you can’t tell if he’s hurt you. Is it his blood? Yours? Has it already satiated itself by wallowing in the blood of other victims?.. You don’t know. And you doubt you will ever find the answer. 

The features that seem familiar grow more grotesque; the talons are now reaching for your throat, and you dutifully obey, staring directly into the red eyes flashing in the slits of the maroon mist. 

Out of the blue, his fingers brush across your face, lingering on the lips, leaving the iron flavor of blood. 

“Forever,” he repeats in a singsong voice… and you wake up. 

You wake up with a startle. You jump up on your bedroll, trying to shake off the tenacious remnants of the nightmare that stick to the back of your eyelids, painting the world red. Gradually, your vision clears, but objects still cast a vague red shadow, dissolving in the peaceful murk of the camp. 

Looking around, you discover Astarion lying beside you on his stomach. You don’t even know whether he actually sleeps: vampires are normally claimed to be insomniacs of the fantasy world, but this one is certainly special. Special is probably an understatement he would loudly argue. This man, destined to drag out the miserable existence of a nocturnal animal, consciously or unconsciously tried to redeem himself all the things he had been deprived of. He was succeeding: histrionic, capricious, and remarkably flamboyant, Astarion never missed an opportunity to express his emotions in the most unacceptable way, adding a waspish note to every darling he granted you. Why did you end up with him anyway? How did you happen to stay here by his side, watch him read ancient manuscripts, and languidly drink wine? 

You have no answer to that. Yet you still have to admit that his presence mollifies you and gives you an obscure sense of security you have never experienced before. He might not immediately come to the rescue when you jeopardize your life, but he will certainly not deny you, even though his refined face revea

ls nothing but languorous irritation.

What do you actually like about him? He’s insufferable, arrogant, prim to the extent that even the nobles can't stand him, but you feel an opaque flair of something else he’s striving to conceal. His drawl reverberates in your head each time he stares at you from above. His attentive ruby eyes are always perusing you, prying into the depth of your soul to fish out an attempt at an amateurish gambit. His mischievous smirk always bodes an ambiguous proposition easily surpassing Raphael’s enigmatic and equivocal inklings. Though his wisecracks and ostensibly exaggerated courtesy tend to infuriate you, more often than not, you find yourself shuddering with galvanic anticipation. Astarion’s innuendos, though, are more straightforward than they seem at first. You just have to know him better.

However, under the guise of the deprave libertine, you can discern a vulnerable creature, scared to death and trying to hide. Astarion didn’t choose the life he was condemned to, and while he spread thundering braggadocio about his days at Cazador’s, he was genuinely frightened.

Brooding over this, you mentally return to one particular recollection that still leaves you speechless. This man is instrumental in controlling his emotions: for all his bluster, Astarion never lets you know what's on his mind. Covered in blood, smirking greedily, dreaming about power and strength, he feeds as much information as necessary to keep you mesmerized and enthralled.

Yet, you've got a chance to spot a terrified boy encapsulated in the body of a charming wanton. You saw him lose control only once in the House of Healing when Malus matter-of-factly left a long, ragged incision on a living man, tightly bound to the gurney. Astarion gasped; his red eyes widened, he grew even paler, and when he shouted, his voice almost broke.

That’s when you saw him in a different light. That’s how you started cutting him some slack and ignoring his sardonic, acrid remarks. He wanted to win a few points back, obviously noticing that you had noted that weakness and were now aware of it. 

Your eyes pass over the intricate pattern of scars on his back. Normally unbearably garish, Astarion locks up in his head when it comes to his major insecurity. He’s told you about the blemish as a last resort, hoping to get a scrap of help, expecting you to find a way out, otherwise you would never have known. Otherwise, he would have never dared mention it to anyone, including himself. 

You can’t resist the temptation, and your fingers hover over the quaint marks. You’re both reluctant and curious to touch them for the umpteenth time, trying to pry into the mystery encompassed in the symbols he so despises. You caress them all the time when you’re in his tent, but Astarion doesn’t seem particularly fond of it: he tries to change the subject and propose another round to make you forget about them. Does it cause him to remember the excruciating throes he had to go through? Does it hurt? Does it remind him of the days spent in Cazador’s captivity? 

These questions, much like the previous ones, receive no response either.

“They give you no peace, do they?” Astarion yawns, not even turning his head toward you. “Touch, if you so wish. You won’t get another chance, my dear.” 

His words embarrass you, and you jerk away the hand, albeit the desire to caress him only grows stronger. 

“Scared already? I thought you were my biggest fan,” he cackles, turning on his back and squinting at you. For a talkative companion, he’s remarkably quiet. He’s calmly observing the taciturn camp, ruby eyes listlessly taking in every detail. His usual volubility has vanished, and he simply examines the surroundings as if he sees them for the first time. Is he pondering over something? What is he thinking? Is he contemplating his previous experiences, analyzing the past, and comparing it to the present? Is it you who makes him brood over the subject he so passionately wants to erase from his memory? 

“Have you ever thought of life eternal, Tav?” Astarion finally utters, his stare drifting across the velvet sky stretching over you. “Have you ever wanted to spend eternity with someone?” 

His red eyes, now two shades darker than usual, slowly swivel to look at you, and you suddenly recognize an affectionate sparkle in them. Is he slowly melting after years of total freeze? Is he letting himself feel? Is he finally going out of the shell of neglect and sarcasm that indemnified him for more than two centuries? 

You shrug and look away. Though always persistent, Astarion rarely brings up such metaphysical topics. 

“Really, Tav,” Astarion tries to reason with you, his voice dropping a notch, gaining seductive notes that entrance you. Still, you can hear him ring with yet unknown craving. It’s unbearably close to the lustful whisper, soaring over your neck every night you sneak away from the prying eyes, but at the same time, you feel that his lust is not directed at you. “Look,” he mutters, licking his lips. “Look at this!.. Eternal life filled with power! With Cazador dead and buried, we can rule this world together. We can finally assert our own world order, wallow in luxury and love till the end of the world. Can you imagine, my love? This is going to be magnificent. Magnificent.”

He spelled the last word with the stress on each syllable, his ruby eyes glowing with the eerie backlight, breaking through the darkness of his pupils. Astarion no longer conceals his sheer exultation and excitement, his lopsided smirk discloses one of the fangs. 

Enthralled, you can’t take your eyes off of his pallid face. Life eternal? Is this what this is all about? Is this what he truly wants, spending his eternity with you, relishing the endless night together?.. 

You give him a subtle nod. Astarion hums curiously and scrutinizes you, his grin growing wider, eyes narrowing. Slowly, steadily, he brushes his fingers across your jawline and gently props your chin up, as if he has never seen a more beautiful sight. 

“Magnificent,” he repeated, lowering himself on you, his lips gliding across your sensitive skin, his hands exploring your body. “Just magnificent.”

You feel his fingers clutching at your wrists like the red ribbons from the nightmare, but it arouses no fear: instead, you submit to the butterfly kisses he leaves on the tendons of your neck, seeking the pulsating spot with the blueish vein. In a moment, you can hear his hushed voice, hitting your skin, 

“You shall be mine forever, my love. You shall be mine.” 

[tomjamesavery]

Red tinted Evening Written for the Ginniversary Bingo Challenge with the prompt: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. Read on: AO3 "Are you ready, Harry?” Ginny was impatiently waiting for her fiancée, they were meant to go out tonight, it was her birthday and Harry had booked them a nice dinner in central London.

The restaurant he had chosen was the poshest they managed to find, and Ginny felt a bit nervous at the thought. Neither of them had ever really been to an expensive restaurant like that, but tonight they wanted to try something new.

Where was he? Ginny was slowly growing more impatient, she quickly glanced at her Omega wristwatch that her brothers had gotten her for her 20th birthday, two years ago.

It was just after half past seven, and their reservation was for eight pm, they would floo to Diagon Alley and from there it would be a swift twenty-minute walk, so if they wanted to be on time they would have to leave now.

She impatiently tapped her left foot, the clicking of her high heels only making her even more nervous in return.

“Harry, we need to leave now, or we’ll be late!” she called out again. This time louder, the annoyance in her voice obvious. Yet, again no answer came. She fidgeted with the loose strand of hair that was hanging down the left side of her face. For tonight her hair was in a carefully crafted bun, only leaving a single red strand unbound, that was perfectly dangling down her face.

But Ginny had other things to worry about than her hair. This guy… She had enough now, she put down her little Carmine red handbag and made her way through the house up towards their bedroom, the clicking of her high heels menacingly echoing throughout the otherwise silent corridors.

She paced up the last few steps of their staircase, already spotting Harrys moving shadow through the crack of the open bedroom door.

“Harry James Potter! Will you get your beautiful bum out of this room, so we can finally leave.” She eagerly pushed open the half-closed door, just as she heard Harry’s panicked voice.

“Gin wait…!”

But it was already too late, Ginny was standing in the doorframe, and she just couldn’t believe her eyes. The entire room was filled with wine-red rose petals and beautifully crafted small candles, and in the middle, there was a small table with two glasses and a very expensive-looking bottle of Bordeaux red wine. Harry seemed to be in the middle of some finishing touches as he was trying to bind together, what was looking like a bouquet of red roses.

Ginny was simply stunned as she took in the whole room, it was beautiful and so thoughtful, sometimes she didn’t know what she did to deserve this incredible man. Nobody talked for a second, as she let her eyes wander around taking in at all the little things he had carefully placed, one by one, but they had booked dinner in the city, why was he preparing that now?

But the silence was short-lived as Harry finally spoke up. “It was meant for after the dinner, I totally underestimated the time it would take to prepare.” his hand came up and he ran it through his hair, making it stick up even more, like usual. “I am sorry, it was meant as a surprise.” He sighed. “I guess you know now.”

Ginny was still at a loss for words, he had prepared all this just for her. All the time and effort it must have taken him, as well as the price, the handcrafted candles alone must’ve cost a fortune.

She met his gaze, and her eyes softened as she finally spoke. “Harry, this is… This is wonderful, I love it so much.” She took a step towards her fiancée before she continued. “This wouldn’t’ve been necessary, the restaurant alone costs so much. And with our wedding coming up as well…” Harry didn’t let her continue as he pulled her in for a deep kiss. Their lips hungrily met and Ginny’s arms came up to pull him in even closer. Her right hand grabbing the back of his head.

They were both breathless when they finally pulled apart. And Ginny stared into his emerald green eyes, they were slightly glazed over after their intense kiss.

Harry’s lips curled into a smile “We have enough money Gin, let’s spend it on us.” He quickly kissed the tip of her nose before he giggled. “You know what Aunt Muriel once said to me when Ron let it slip that I inherited a fortune from my parents.”

Ginny shook her head, her lips forming into a smile. “Oh Godric this can only be good.”

Harry laughed “ She told me that, It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. At the time I had no idea what she meant with that but seems like she was right after all.” They both erupted into laughter and Ginny playfully flicked his nose, before she took him by the hem of his shirt and pulled him after her, out of the room. “Now come on Mr. Big Money, we have a dinner to attend.” She spun around, continuing to walk towards the staircase backwards, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “And then we need to de-christen that rose-covered bed.” She only saw Harry swallowing visibly as she turned around again, speeding up her steps, they had a dinner waiting for them after all.

[pink-tiled-bathroom]

where the light doesn't reach, 23/10/2024, 14:24

i can feel the white noise begin in my mouth, static pinpoints leaking down my throat

the same way it spreads across the insides of my cheeks before i vomit. 

i remember when the gas prices stilled between $2.30 and $2.50

and as the bus lulls on its late night passage between work and home

it pauses by a gas station where the sign is burnt out and just reads $3. 9

who is there for the martyrs?, who is there for god,

when they are the ones who give? 

do they spend their late nights alone, clutching a bottle of whiskey between calloused palms and bloody fingertips,

praying to someone above them to make them feel less alone in their pain? or to end it completely?

my mother looked me in the eyes once while asking me for a glass of wine and told me

that i was only born to serve. born to give. never to feel anything besides giving every fibre of my living to anyone who asks for it. 

how is a daughter to live with the weight of being born only to give every part of her away until she rots? that she is undeserving of anything but the chisel?

i feel that this is some sort of convoluted convocation of being a mother’s daughter. 

the nights have gotten cold again. i dont sleep much anymore--the shadows whisper broken cries of shortcomings

and i can smell the copper-ferrous carmine lingering on their chapped lips from my own cold-sweat soaked sheets where i lay (alone, terrified).

i am the deer on the side of the highway, softly lulling between seeing what the people with guns call “god”, and the blinding afterlight of my blood on the asphalt,

the night sky cradles my half-alive body and the starlight looks like broken glass. the stars reflect onto each other like gemstones,

murmuring all the dreams ive had since I was six years old. i pretend everything isn't a metaphor for grief,

i pretend i am still unborn, before i was told no god would return my purity. i repine in the realization that i won't ever be able to go back.

i've lost the ability to tell whether the lump in my throat is some hopeless feat at self sabotage or the smoke in my lungs coming up to choke me,

most times its the former though every time i pray its the latter. the trains blare night in and night out with the cries of crimson on the rails.

sometimes i wish it was me. the only thing that lets me rest at the unholy hours of dawn is romanticizing

a horrid and gory suicide, legs splayed across the gravel, torso mangled, skull crushed in glass shards,

the front of the train now having all it takes to be human (blood, skin, flesh, bone, heat, and nothing inside you but lost dreams).

no epilogue, no note; only the fog hanging heavy over my carcass, ululating all the broken promises once made through gritted teeth.

there is a god just mortal enough to look human. she breathes the color of all my sins, slurring morning dew with crimson brume--

and i repent in the early hours of morning, knowing i fell from the golden light for abandoning god's faith. gabriel will lower his trumpet when i visit him again.

i am a better wound than i am person; my hands have always been blackened with contrition.

if you were to read my name aloud, it would spell out sacrifice, in its most grotesque form. strident, mangled, like knuckles torn to shreds.

there exists within my chest a desire to be wanted-- fervently, earnestly, to be devoured whole until my wounds exsanguinate;

but alas, grief fills october’s empty lungs like kerosene, and i wait around the corner like a mutt.

at my core, i exist as nothing more than a beaten dog. i will wait for you, even if it is not what i want. i know nothing else but waiting for the whip to crack,

tearing into the already blue-black flesh barely hanging onto my bones, spattering vermillion onto the tile like sunlight. every welt feels like home.

at some sentient part of my canine head i want you to drown in the guilt of the blood on your hands. i will bark and bite, but i will never speak.

i wonder if god looks down upon the fallen angels and wishes them well, because he too feels guilty.

[disorganizedkitten]

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Coldest Girl In Coldtown

And I Loved You So Much I Turned Around

Behind Borrowed Blood

Bloody Phosphenes

By Definition, We’re Not Insane Yet

If Home Is Where The Heart Is, Where Do The Heartless Rest?

Infected Pearl au

No Pandemic Au

Pearl Bach And The Horrible Terrible No Good Very Bad (88) Days

Thorns and Tombstones

Time Loop

"1800s" au

Harry Potter

A Conspiracy Of Errors

A Week In A Day

And Salt The Earth Behind You

Antithesis / Charlie's Demons

Arial Anarchy

Cobra Lily

Dark As Dried Blood

Dark Magic For Dummies

Emotional Support Cookies

Gentle As Flaking Blood

Harry Potter Does Not Exist (A Presentation)

Hyacinth

I'm Gonna Kill Santa Claus (But Uno Reverse)

Incubus

It’s Only Right As A Math Problem

Judge My Carmine Fingertips (It Won't Make Them Clean)

No Rest For The Wicked

Not Every Open Wound (Is Simply Healed By Time)

Not (Our Parents’) Children 

Nothing Like A Trail Of Blood To Lead You Home

Obliviate

Seven Months Away

Swing a Scepter, Wear A Crown

The Potter-Riddle foundation for abandoned children

The Soul Feels Like The Universe / I Feel As Though I've Been On This Earth Before

There Is Magic In Every Living Thing

Three War Orphans In A Magic Castle

War Crimes Verse

Win Come Late

You Held My Heart In Your Hands

Miraculous Ladybug

A Bug To Bee Talk

A Day In The Life Of - Mafia Au

A Miraculous Mix Up

A Study In Friendship

ANJR

Be Still My Undead Heart

Bursting Bubbles of Bad Luck

Chronicles of Ladybug and Baset

Climbing the Louvre

Depth of Cold

Four is Quantic but five is too

G-day: a celebration of Girlfriends and Glitter

Going outside (for more than the view)

Is It Really Safe?

It's in the blood

I’m Literally Right Here

Luck of the claws

Miracle Fighters

Moving Places

My Safety Isn’t The Concern

No Longer A Villian

Paper Lanterns

Plume Reign

Red’s the Color Of Your Heart

Rena

Scarlet Swords

Shades of Warmth

Sharing is Caring

Skipped a Step

Sunshine and Roses

The Marinette Lucky Charm

These Hopeless Helpless Miraculous-Wielding Romantics

We Recover Only To Be Broken Again

You’ll Survive

Crossover Fics

#girlsupportinggirls

Carrying capacity

Circus au / Into The Mixing Bowl

Closer Than Friends

Exchange of blades

Feathers and Shells

Geronimo Weasley

Ghostinette

Gifts Between Girls

How To Live (When You've Long Been Dead)

Immortal Children

Ivory Shadows

Jaded eyes, stolen stories (Jaded eyes, poached prophecies)

Jagged Leaves

Life goes on

Location Soulmate au

Marinette's Guide To Adopting The Local Vigilante

Power he knows not

Princess Mara au

Queen, Devil, Champion

Recruiting Red

Robbery chatfic

Seven Faces over Seven Continents

Switching and Swapping

Tales of the Tacticional Twins

Talon mindshare

Tim Drake-Wayne vs Albus Dumbledore

Trained Together

Two Can Keep A Secret If One Of Them Is Dead

Wine Aunts Salt au

Wishes Fishes

My Hero Academia

Borrow

Hold Your Bloody Head Up High

How Long Can Someone Be Lost

Lost In Translation

They Call Them Feral

We're All Dead Here

Wingfic

Scooby-Doo

Eldritch Doos au 

Gang Soulmate au

Summer camp au

HTTYD

Dragonborn

The one where Dagur is a good brother

The one where Dragon Riders are their own tribe | Feral Hiccup au #1

The One where Dragons are actually Aliens

The one where everyone is secretly friends

The one where Heather and Mala pop in during HTTYD1

The one where Hiccup and his brother kill the red death before realizing they’re brothers | Feral Hiccup au #4

The one where Hiccup Gets Hurt in the ring

The one where Hiccup Runs Away (and meets the wingmaidens) | Feral Hiccup au #2

The One Where Stoick Suffers Despite His Best Efforts | Feral Hiccup au #5

The one with the human sacrifice except Dagur is a faithful husband and very offended | Feral Hiccup au #3

JCA

Hypermnesia

Reacquisition

Danny Phantom

Age Swap Au

Three Feet To The Left

Walk Beside My Corpse (It's the memory that decays)

Welfare Check

Other

In The Vacuum You Left Behind

Keep Me In Balance

Prerecognition

The Fuzzy Duckling

The Name of Frankenstein

The Paris Fic

We Dared Open The Door

Some fics did not make the list. Considering how many I have, that’s not a surprise. They can live in the docs for a little while longer.

If you wanna chat; ask box is always open, and otherwise there’s the shared discord (mostly HP but I WILL eventually get us an entire CGIC area).

 If you’re interested in other topics! Nino Lahiffe Appreciation Squad Discord - Ethereal Grimoire Discord - Maribat Insanity II (link upon request)

 Otherwise, a wild DK may be spotted but I don’t have rights to those links and I’d rather catch you by the throat from behind. ^~^

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

For TTT: Jason mumbling love quotes from poetry or classical novels while worshipping reader? Maybe she’s feeling insecure or Jason’s just especially in love that day?

"To find a kiss of yours what would I give A kiss that strayed from your lips dead to love," Jason rumbled, half drunk. Burying hs face in the soft skin of your belly.

"Jay-" you breathe. But when massive calloused hands stroke down your bare sides. Deliberatly tender, all you can do is sink into the bedding with a sigh. If he was feeling romantic, far be it from you to stop him. It was better than any dream you might have had.

"My lips taste the dirt of shadows, To gaze at your dark eyes what would I give Dawns of rainbow garnet fanning open before God—" Each word is punctuated by kisses and nibbles on your bare flesh. Soft like contented noises as he was savoring the taste of you. Like he was sampling the finest wine.

The stars blinded the one morning in May And to kiss your pure thighs what would I give Raw rose crystal  sediment of the sun." He reached down, carefully parting your thighs as he settled back on his calves and admired you, bending to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin.

"Lorca?" you sigh. Hissing when his teeth mark your skin possessively

"Is that who it was?" he said, kissing the carmine patch he'd left. Not sure if he wanted to soothe it or deepen it. "Saw you naked in the moonlight and it was all I could think."

"You think in poems when I'm naked?" you ask, smiling up at him sleepily.

"Sometimes," he murmured, cheeks darkening. "It's cheesy I know but-" He broke off feeling stupid and looked down at you, melting when he realizes you're look like you might cry, "Baby I just don't always know what to say and-"

"You can get drunk and think poems at me whenever you want, Jay," you murmur, reaching up to take his hand, as you sit up, pressing it to your heart.

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning.

"Got any Byron to tell me?" you ask, crinkling your nose teasingly.

"Depends," he growled, feeling his cock twitch in his sweats when he registered how wanton and sweet you look. The moonlight and dust motes that had entranced him so much when he came to bed and saw you sprawled tangled naked in the sheets making you look now like some wild, doe-eyed creature.

"On?" you ask, smudging a kiss against his jaw.

"Would it be too much if I asked you to sit on my cock while I-"

"Why would I ever turn down a beautiful man reciting love poems to me while I ride him?" you ask, smacking him lightly in the chest.

"Don't want you to ride me," Jason corrected, "Wanna drink some wine and have you sit on my cock while I let a bunch of dead poets tell you how perfect you are."

"That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me," you tell him, giggling. "God, please?"

And Jason grinned, taking your hand and kissing it before smudging sloppy kisses up your wrist, "Anything for my lady, fair," he said.

"Anything?" you breathe. Heart racing. Of all the ways he could have come home still drunk, romantic and ready to ruin you... you could miss your 8am class once right?

"Anything," he growled, scooping you up in his arms easily to carry you to the couch so he could find a bottle of wine. One didn't wake a lady up from her beauty sleep and not provide refreshments.

[ink-of-a-thousand-currents]

Fully scried Mass Hatch kids 10/55, fav scry showcase

Today's notes: #8 is a strong contender for a keeper, I adore that Gaoler scry. Meanwhile, #7 has been designated an Ugly Baby after many scry attempts. Not a fan.

#6 Wine/Sanddollar/Sanguine, Ice Common, Male

#7 Fern/Caramel/Purple, Light Common, Female

#8 Cobalt/Cerulean/Copper, Light Uncommon, Female

#9 Lavender/Sky/Teal, Shadow Uncommon, Female

#10 Black/Carmine/Ruby, Nature Common, Male

[senatushq]

"You are wrong. The Gods abandoned you a long time ago. There's no way you can win." - Fenrir

The Six were back. At least, that’s what some people thought. Aegnor caught a glimpse of Titania in her prime, cheering amidst the crowd as vines of shadow wrapped around a competitor and strung them upside down. Rhiannon heard Ezekiel’s voice whooping from the stands as her blade of mage’s bane cut through a witch’s spell. Hakan caught a glimpse of his progeny and Rowan asked his flavor of the week what they wanted to drink and heard Gabriel’s voice: “Liquid courage,” when Rowan turned towards it, he saw Gabriel's face, but once he blinked, the dhampir was gone.

Lucas was feeding some stray cats as he prayed to the Gods for good fortune in the fights to come. Muttering under his breath, Marisol asked if he was talking to himself again, but when he looked up he only caught a glimpse of her smile before the reaper was gone. Uriel was waiting for Logon to come back with something warm when Adatiel sat down beside him; she asked, “Who’s up next?” But when Uriel turned to look at his sister Death, no one was there but Logon approaching with mulled wine. Sat alone in the beer tent, Efigenia enjoyed a quiet glass of red alone; naturally, she’d conjured it from home because she would not be drinking the lycan swill or the milkbone-enriched variant from Old Frascati. Her glass, nearly empty, a hand moved and refilled it for her. Efigenia noted signature cufflinks and the suit that went along with them. She didn’t look, but when she mumbled her gratitude, she heard Kaan’s voice. “You’re welcome.” 

Echoes. Memories of the departed lingered about the event. The Six were gone but refused to be forgotten. Family, friends, and strangers alike caught glimpses of them over the days; they heard their voices, felt their hands at the back, or felt the warmth of their presence, but only for a moment.

ooc info:

Everyone with connections to The Six (and those without) would have at least caught a glimpse of them at some point; we love pain.

Post on the 23rd will tie off the smaller events from Day 3

Post on the evening of the 24th will announce the finalists in the Alpha Gauntlet

Post on the morning of the 25th will announce the next Alpha of Lupercal.

See below the winners of the All-Fighter Tournament, The Singles Gauntlet, and the First Round of the Alpha Tournament.

Open Lycan Gauntlet

*Bragging rights and Free Drinks for 1 year at All Fours

Jovial, fun, and good-natured fun among lycans. The gauntlet opened exclusively to lycans, and saw them balance on wooden beams hammered into the ground. This was Alek's idea because he thought it'd be funny if someone fell and cracked their head; he also forgot that he'd signed up for the fight.

Napoleon tackled Carmine early on, and the two fell, making out when they hit the ground. Connor claimed to have better balance than Anders, but with one sharp shove, down he went. Regina and Flora seemed to be the only two people taking it seriously until Tripp threw a stick, and Regina lost her balance when she had to duck it. Lucas's shoes came untied, and Damian was still weak in the knees from the events surrounding Lupercalia. Lain was still recovering from the day before and ended up keeling over as soon as the gauntlet began.

One by one, they fell like dominoes until only Flora was left standing.

Alpha Gauntlet (Round 1)

Enriched by the emissaries' powers and the Lupo pack's joint ambitions, those competing for Alpha were compelled to put their all into it. Violent, brutal, and relentless, the person who would ultimately win the Alpha Tournament would be someone destined and deserving for the position chosen by the Fates themselves.

All eyes were on Lain to see if he would pull something out like he had in the preliminary round, instead he got the shit kicked out of him by Serkan. As slicked up as Kayce was in olive oil, he was no match for Adamo who seemed suspiciously good at wrangling greased-up men. The unexpected arrival of Anders from the Tana Pack made him an instant crowd favourite, while some people didn't understand what they saw in those vacant eyes it wasn't his face that they were looking at. After beating Flora he quickly lost the crowd's favour.

Eric was ready to give Alpha the old college try but was dragged up and down the ring before they were tossed into the stands. Davhy had something to prove, Sehanine's chosen lythari, first blessed in an age; he dedicated the fight to Moonbow and while the crowd grumbled and rolled their eyes they looked on with some amazement as the lythari transformed and then beat the shit out of The Noble.

Remus wasn't a lycan unless he wanted to be, people didn't really know what would happen if he won Alpha but it didn't seem fair. He transformed into a dragon, tossed Nidhogg a wink, and then flung The Rancor comically far. Max thought that he'd have it easy fighting Aurea, but he was wrong, and the fight was over before he even had a chance to shift - his arm broken as a clear reminder. Jerry (an omega who'd been kicked out of his pack for being weird) fought Nash and it didn't really go well; the draegloth transformed, tore the lycan in two with his four arms, ate his heart, and then pissed on the body in front of everyone. Nash whistled as he did before he shook a leg and walked off. Smell ya later.

All Fighter Gauntlet

*winner receives bragging rights and free waffles for 1 year at the Waffle House

Once again, Remus strode into the arena, ready to lay waste to yet another competition. The fighters that had stepped forward were all some of the strongest and the best of the best. The fairgrounds could not contain the altercation that spilled forward as any laws that might have bound the fighters outside of Lupercalia held no bearing now. Lycans battled against dragons and fought against archfiends, demigods, aspects, fallen aasimar, and drow alike. Sorcerers were embedded and enriched with magic, fortified by changelings, and outside forces. There were no restrictions; the last person still standing would be declared the victor.

Remus was a seasoned veteran of one of the most significant wars the mortal realm had ever seen, an heir of Mars reborn through Abyssal magic. Horus, the son of Lathander the Morninglord, the greatest warrior of the Seldarine, and a force that had not been seen for thousands of years. In the end, they were the only two left standing; Remus prepared himself to copy the other's power to add Horus's ability to the aspect's long list of abilities he had gathered today. Fenrir. Sathanas. Morgana. Nidhogg. Abaddon. The list went on and on.

Horus's wings spread wide as authority manifested over the God, and Remus burned. Scorched through by divine fire and incapacitated as the crowd roared Horus's name.

Gladiator Tournament (Singles)

*All inclusive spa package for one at the local bathhouse, complete with a happy ending

Disaster. Absolute disaster. The tournament was meant to be contained exclusively to the fairgrounds, however, things quickly got out of hand. Akephaloi, aeternae, demogorgons, eidolons, hellhounds, kelpies, golems, stymphalian, and wyverns ran wild went they broke out of their enclosures. As it turned out, the lycans of Lupercalia knew absolutely nothing about the storage and care of supernatural creatures.

Fair was fair though, so only those competing in the singles tournament were allowed to hunt down the creatures and either slay them or incapacitate them. New rules were hastily rewritten so the person with the most kills or captures would win.

For an hour, chaos ran wild as the hunters went to work; in the end, there was a tie between Nidhogg, Sathanas, and Octavian; a three-way fight was held, and with his flames, the archdruid stood as the victor.

[perexcri]

Aaaa yay!! They’re going to go together!! They’re getting so good at communicating with each other! (Also I remember you talking about drinking that plum wine!! :O I now understand!)

“His breath snares in his throat as he takes in the sight of his love: sweat makes his bangs curl and bend in all directions and his shirt stick against his shoulders; his mouth is pulled into an affable grin, and a fistful of flowers blossom out of his hand, stalks of lavender, creamy dahlias, twilight purple orchids, carmine and honey blanket flowers. There’s just enough shadow from the roof’s overhang that they pulse faintly with light, their colors dancing against Mike’s irises.” Got me Screaming into my pillow at this, rhdjeidj they’re so In Love and you continue w the magic words!

Also! Matching necklaces!!!! Love that for them!! It’s lovely of Will to make sure it’s the same kind of charm that he uses. They’re just. Aaaa I’m running out of words with which to express how much I love this story and these characters and just!

I’m so glad they’re gonna get their happy life of freedom together, even if it took them a few more years than they expected when they were 12.

I hope u are having a very lovely day and your week is going good so far:)

YESSSS they're finally getting their runaway arc!! i told you i'm committed to a happy ending, and i mean it :]

and yes - the plum wine i briefly mentioned was an actual plot point in this thing aldfjasklf i'd had plum wine once or twice before, but i couldn't quite remember how it tasted and wanted to make sure i'd described it correctly in the chapter. i'd mainly just forgotten that it's a little on the tangy side, so i'm glad i decide to refresh myself on how it tastes haha

they are!! so in love!! almost unbearably so i swear. perexcri's finally beating the "why do they never kiss" allegations with this one, folks.

yeah the matching necklaces has me 🫠 i've loved writing this fic and i'm very proud of it, but also it's the one that if anybody i know irl who isn't a close friend of mine found it i'd have to drop off the face of the earth and resurface in like,,,Norway under a different name. i love it but damn, i am not beating the sentimental allegations. i want to be so cool and cold and emo, but i'm really just a big sap at heart i guess 😩

i am too!! i really liked the idea of this fic of them trying to find healing for themselves rather than trying to take on the world and save the day. maybe it's selfish, but i feel like the show deals with similar contradictory themes (i'm mainly thinking of the idea of running away - Will running away in the upside down and from the mind flayer was always kinda framed as him doing the correct thing, whereas Eddie facing the bats - while noble - resulted in his death. something something there is no shame in running??)

i am wishing you a lovely day (well,,,night now lol) too, Vee!! i hope you're having a good week :] i know mine's been made better by being able to post these chapters and getting to talk with you 💜💜💜

[crimson--corvid]

As the vitae was pulled from him, he watched the wounds stitching themselves shut. The dim glow of his aura blended with Carmine's. It was never something he got used to, letting others feed from him, but it was necessary to meet his ends. Still, it felt... wrong, like he was taking advantage of the frail human mind.

Still, a life would be saved, and a debt owed. He lifted his gaze as Carmine drank his sanguine, keeping an eye out for passers by gaining too much interest.

And when he had tasted enough of the wine of undeath, Ruairi simply pulled his wrist away with a gentle, "Enough."

He waited for the old man to gain his senses from back from the bliss the Kiss induced. At the question, he looked down at Carmine. To the mobster, the man's eyes would look as if they were glowing without light, a reflective gold-leaf amongst the shadows. "The Kiss. It gives life from the undead. Welcome to the world of Vampires, mate. A secret you can never tell."

Tenuta dell’Ornellaia. The sweet palettes of his homeland, his youth. Memories of a younger, happier man. Jack at his side, his children playing… How a man’s blood could smell so sweetly, was not something he had the ability to question. Not now, not as the delirium of blood loss took him. Every instinct encouraged him in this- do it, take his hand and drink. Indulge in this, the nectar of bliss. Ever the hedonist, he did. And when the jewel of life breached his lips, all felt new.

Young bones that no longer ached. His skin felt softer, his scars strained so much less as he moved.  For the first time in years he felt no pain, no ache, no.. struggle in his body.

He pulled away, and as the life seemed to return to him, Carmine sat, befuddled. “What.. did you do to me?”

[bowl-of-shortness]

RWBY OC Color Names:

Massive shoutout to @collectingsparechangemadeeasy1, they helped a lot with coming up with these name :)

Red:

Roux, Rory, Rufus, Russell, Rusty, Maroon, Burgundy, Mahogany, Claret, Sorrell, Flannery, Vermilion, Apple, Candy, Sangria, Cardinal, Carnelian, Cerise, Cinnabar, Falu, Crimson, Wine, Amaranth, Titian, Chili, Raspberry, Carmine, Realgar, Eudialyte, Madeira, Cuprite, Rosa, Peppermint, Aster, Anemone, Yarrow, Chrysanthemum, Amaryllis, Carnation, Poinsettia, Begonia, Dianthus, Freesia, Petunia, Hibiscus, Poppy, Salvia, Tulip, Azalea, Canna, Dahlia, Verbena, Holly.

Orange:

Hari, Ginger, Spice, Blaze, Russet, Tawny, Citron, Clementine, Tangerine, Coral, Peach, Apricot, Mango, Persimmon, Sunset, Pumpkin, Butterscotch, Cider, Copper, Bronze, Clay, Ochre, Fulvous, Jasper, Sunrise, Topaz, Amber, Tiger, Carnelian, Hessonite, Sunstone, Sunny, Padparadscha, Sardonyx, Calcite, Dzi, Begonia, Canna, Cosmos, Honeysuckle, Zinnia, Autumn.

Yellow:

Honey, Blaine, Gold (Goldie), Mellow, Lemon, Champagne, Canary, Daffodil, Sunny, Jasmine, Primrose, Goldenrod, Dune, Sand, Flax, Xanthus, Laguna, Dijon, Beige, Aureolin, Mikado, Maize, Colza, Melon, Cyber, Banana, Tuscany, Ecru, Corn, Sepia, Citrine, Heliodor, Pyrite, Copal, Argonite, Sulphur, Rutile, Spiriferida, Scheelite, Calla, Jessamine, Pansy, Primrose, Lotus, Buttercup.

Green:

Viridian, Hunter, Forest, Moss, Florence, Chartreuse, Oliver, Olive, Olivia, Sage, Lime, Jade, Fern, Laurel, Mint, Tea, Kelly, Sacramento, Juniper, Pear, Shamrock, Pickle, Pistachio, Basil, Paris, Spring, Glade, Timber, Verdun, Chateau, Kaitoke, Foxtons, Kale, Avocado, Bilbao, Panache, Khaki, May, Tourmaline, Chrysoprase, Idocrase, Aventurine, Peridot, Moldavite, Zoisite, Turquoise, Malachite, Serpentine, Prehnite, Variscite, Ekanite, Tansy, Hydrangea, Scabiosa.

Blue:

Royal, Admiral, Duke, Glacious, Blueberry, Bluebell, Sky, Midnight, Frost, Ocean, Glade, Bluebird, Azalea, Denim, Pigeon, Navy, Carolina, Maya, Cornflower, Sapphire, Azure, Yale, Indigo, Cobalt, Teal, Cerulean, Lapis, Aegean, Berry, Arctic, Aquamarine, Aqua, Spinel, Chalcedony, Tanzanite, Moonstone, Iolite, Apatite, Larimar, Benitoite, Zircon, Opal, Azurite, Kyanite, Sodalite, Halite, Clematis, Salvia, Lobelia, Lupine, Veronica.

Purple:

Magenta, Fuschia, Periwinkle, Plum, Yolanda, Violet, Iris, Lavender, Amethyst, Hibiscus, Mauve, Mulberry, Orchid, Lilac, Grape, Byzantine, Helio, Floral, Thistle, Sangria, Jam, Chalcedony, Fluorite, Garnet, Kunzite, Sugalitie, Coquimbite, Kunzite, Siberite, Charoite, Phantom, Taaffeite, Tiffany, Marialite, Angel, Verbena, Anemone, Heather, Aster, Liatris, Honesty, Merlin, Wisteria, Zinnia, Dianthus.

Pink:

Blush, Sakura, Rosè, Calamine, Bubblegum, Thulian, Cerise, Carnation, Amaranth, Taffy, Rouge, Crepe, Rhodolite, Morganite, Mayala, Pezzottaite, Rubellite, Calcite, Eudialyte, Talc, Rosolite, Cerasite, Cherry, Azalea, Begonia, Amaryllis, Thyme, Hollyhock, Astilbe, Iberis, Phlox.

White:

Pearl, Alabaster, Lumi, Snow, Porcelain, Linen, Cream, Ivory, Platinum, Sugar, Chiffon, Titanium, Lace, Ice (Icey), Edelweiss, Cotton, Salt, Daisy, Frost, Rice, Howlite, Diamond, Akoya, Baroque, Keshi, Selenite, Selene, Zeolite, Caylon, Okenite, Snowdrop, Magnolia, Jasmine, Powder, Galatea.

Grey:

Grey, Silver, Steel, Stone, Pewter, Slate, Dusty, Boulder, Manta (?), Cloud, Fossil, Mink, Abalone, Harbor, Iron, Trout, Seal, Lava, Shadow, Ash, Anchor, Graphite, Fog, Lead, Gibeon, Celiom, Larvikite, Chrome, Terahertz, Brunia.

Black:

Ebony, Merle, Charcoal, Coal, Jet, Ink, Soot, Smoke, Pepper, Domino, Vanta, Onyx, Pitch, Sable, Obsidian, Spider, Leather, Morion, Hematite, Shungite, Galena, Graphite, Lodestone, Shale, Scoria, Augite, Anatase, Basalt, Blackberry, Baccara, Satin, Viola.

Total number of names on this list: 420

[kiridarling]

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

request | Can I have royalty au (soon to be king bakugou) (and soon to be queen reader) , katsuki and reader are supposed to be getting married (not to eachother) but they end up sneaking around and doing IT with eachother so top!kats , exhibition , begging , dumbification and spanking THANK YOU💞💞

this lovely request was submitted for the kissing booth event (the rest of the drabbles come out soon, ahem :)) so, if this was your request, um...hAHA whoops.

katsuki bakugou | f!reader, royalty!au, infidelity, nondescript!fiancés, angst (gasp), fingering, exhibitionism, dumbification + more! minors dni!

— 3.7k words

“C'mon, princess...can I make you feel good once last time?

You're getting married.

No more ignorance is bliss, no more I didn't know any better—this is when you put all your childish antics to the side and fucking woman up, now in charge of the safety of your kingdom and its inhabitants and whatnot. So yes, you must snuff all your adolescent tendencies, and that includes sleeping with the Crowned Prince of the neighboring kingdom behind your fiancé's backs.

But, boys are stubborn. And stupid.

Ding ding ding!

"Excuse me, Everyone!" Your fiancé announces to the crowd in your dining room as he stumbles to his feet, spoon clinking against his glass. He nearly trips, but no one sees except yourself. "I would like to make a toast."

You frown. This wasn't a part of the rehearsal dinner.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all for being able to be with us tonight," he says, shoving the glass higher in the air. As red wine splashes over the rim, you think to remind him that isn't a toast, it's the beginning of a speech, but your comments have rarely deterred the man in the past. "As you’re all aware, this marriage is vital. Not only for our kingdom, but for the neighboring kingdom as well."

Your fiancé regards the Bakugou’s with a lift of his chalice. In the coming weeks, two arranged marriages will melt the four most influential kingdoms into two, and your fiancé and his family had the genius to throw a massive Gala to celebrate it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they got off to the idea of stretching themselves so thin their hair falls out at age thirty; they won’t even allow you to choose the type of dress for your wedding.

"I would also like to thank my lovely, lovely wife, for just being so... lovely.” Your fiancé chuckles, accompanied by an uncomfortable massage to your shoulder. The guests find amusement in how whipped he is as he gazes your way expectantly, conceivably wishing to see you swoon at the compliment. All you give him is a blank face. His elation falters.

"You know, when I first met this woman, I knew she was going to be the love of my life," your fiancé shakes your glare off. You purposely block out the rest of his story in favor of folding and unfolding your napkin again, puffing under your breath at the cheesy comment.

"Sap," you grunt to yourself, obviously. You don't expect anyone to hear, but there's a snort to your right. Your eyes lift from your lap—and straight into Katsuki's smug blood red ones. He winks at you from across the table and your eyes roll at that, though there's a small smile playing on your face that's impossible to hide.

"Isn't that right [Y/N]!...[Y/N]?"

You blink yourself back to life, eyes reluctantly leaving Katuski's hypnotic ones for the pair that make you nauseous, "Oh—u-um, yep!"

The place bursts in laughter and there's even a little smile dancing on Katsuki's face. He catches you staring so your eyes divert to your lap, but his remain a physical force against you for the rest of the night.

*selene — the greek goddess of the moon

The balcony is much nicer than the ballroom.

For one, it's the farthest place you could have gone from the commotion, all the way on the opposite side of the castle. It's a solid five-minute walk when you aren't in heels and a heavy petticoat, but it provides a lovely view of your front yard, subjecting you to watch the early-sleepers leave in their carriages to call it a night. Meanwhile, *Selene watches you from her telescope the moon with a sigh and a sad smile, because she's the only one who knows how completely and utterly alone you will be.

You glare at her—the goddess doesn't waver.

Bitch.

It's no secret that Gala’s like these get overwhelming—especially when you're the center of attention. You see Lord Shinsou (Earl) stuff the eager Lord Kaminari (Baron) into his silver-plated carriage before looking around to ensure no one saw, and blanche upon seeing your figure stood on the balcony. You salute so he knows his secret is safe with you, and relief washes over his face before he too hops into the carriage. What a scandal, you giggle.

Plenty of couples resign home after that; it makes you uneasy. You're unsure as to why, but you have the ever-increasing urge to nip at your fingernails until you don't have them anymore, and jamming the sharpest point of your heel into the concrete seems like the only proper way to release enough kinetic energy before you explode.

"He loves me."

He does, embarrassingly so—so what's the issue?

There isn't an issue; there shouldn't be. He reminds you how pretty you are and you compliment his influence. Neither of you are marrying down. You look good together. The kingdom's future power couple if you will, where you two supposedly mold the great future in your peculiarly young hands. There isn't an issue. You're the one for him, and he's the one for you.

The balcony door whines open. You don't turn around, praying whoever it is will see that it's occupied and turn the other cheek. Yet, the stomp of whoever's boots only grow louder until you’re adjacent to a shadow of a being, his chin lifted towards the stars. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, though dyed a pale white by the silver moon, and you two stand in a strangely comfortable silence, watching carriages roll out of your driveway.

The silence doesn’t last for long, though. It never does.

"D’ya always go disappearing like that?"

You frown. "What?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Katsuki grumbles—he has yet to look at you. Seems like Selene captures more than one person's attention tonight. "Blinked and you were gone."

Your frown only deepens, and you return your attention to the courtyard. "I didn't know you were paying attention."

The ash-blond presses his forearms against the railing for support. "I wasn't. He was."

Oh.

"Said he wants you to come back, so," Katsuki clicks his tongue, carmine red eyes finally flicking your way through the darkness. You don’t dare look at him. “You run off often, or what?"

"Tell him I'll come back in a second," you sigh, balancing your face in your hand. Katsuki says nothing, but he doesn't leave, and you hate that you don't mind.

Until he points towards a couple crossing the lawn and says, "Oi, that's the Duke from my fiancé's kingdom. Fucker tried to poison my dad for the throne���straightened him out real quick.”

"Why are you talking to me?" You snap like a cornered animal. Katsuki lifts an eyebrow.

"What? I can't have a goddamn conversation?"

"I—" your chest rises and falls with a reason to why he can't, but you can only come up with one—and you don't want to think about it.

"Listen. I don't like these things either, alright?" He huffs defensively, so defensively that you have to take a step back. "If I have the opportunity to get some fresh air, I'm gonna fuckin' take it."

You shrug, supposing it makes you one and the same. The wind blows, not harsh, but harsh enough to ruffle your gown, and make the gold jewelry decorating Katsuki's tunic jingle.

“So. I guess this is it, ain’t it?”

You sigh, “Katsuki, you know we—“

"Yeah yeah, that's all you fuckin' say," he growls bitterly, and you blink in a poor attempt to find where the animosity came from. His face twists in an ugly way as he sits his hands on his hips, nose scrunched to mockingly pitch his voice that doesn't sound like yours at all. "We can't, we shouldn't—"

"Because we shouldn't!" You nearly shout, and Katsuki jumps from how quickly you raise your voice. "Because—because if we get caught, we're fucked. And I can't go to sleep terrified that I'll wake up to an exposé tomorrow morning and get beheaded by the afternoon. So...please. Just stop."

Katsuki clicks his tongue.

"You don't love that asshole."

Your throat feels tight—much too tight to be comfortable, and your chest rises and falls with disbelief as you search for the words before you can talk again, eyes never dropping from the stars. You've had this conversation, fuck, you have it too often; often enough to know that he would say those exact words, and enough to know precisely what you'll say in response.

"I love him, Katsuki."

"No, no you fuckin' don't," the ash-blond chucks a laugh and it's nothing short of acrid, his words eating away at your skin more than you'd like them to. You sigh, resting your forearms on the railing too.

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Always gotta be so goddamn emotionally unavailable, huh?" He growls, glare set on the mountains presented in front of you. You feel his suit jacket hit your freezing shoulders, unaware of the cool temperatures until you feel the cloth brush against goosebumps. It’s your turn to laugh bitterly.

“Careful. People might think we’re getting married to each other.”

“One day you’ll let me fuckin’ live,” he grunts, and your eyes meet for the first time. His usual red is dyed a deep purple by the moonlight, their usual hardness traded for something much softer. “Can’t even give you a jacket when you’re shivering like a goddamn leaf in the wind.”

You give him a look of utter exhaustion because you’re tired—tired of all this running around and hiding, the secrecy. It eats at your insides like a caterpillar does a leaf, knowing that you go to sleep every night to a man who’ll barely touch you, but at the same time, feeling guilty that you don’t need nor want him to.

“Why are you here?”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. His warm body settles behind yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not close enough to feel him. “You looked lonely.”

“I thought my fiancé told you to get me?” You ask, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Katsuki rolls his eyes, his arms settling on both sides of yours.

“He did. But I didn’t refuse the damn request either.”

“You saw my loneliness all the way from the ballroom. What an eyesight,” you scoff. Katsuki’s eyes narrow, but it’s clear he’s fighting a grin because you’re a little shit who loves giving him a hard time. The ash-blond’s chest rises and falls, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“You know what I mean.”

You snort, tilting your head to the right. You suppose you do.

“And I’m marrying a bitch,” he adds to his list of grievances, his hands finding yours to gently play with your fingers. You nod in agreement. A bitch she is.

“And...I’m really going to fuckin’ miss you.”

It might as well pass for nothing but a breath, eyes trained on your held hands. His chest suspends like he has more to say, but his teeth tear at the inside of his cheek before he can. “I—fuck, I get it, okay? I’m a selfish asshole—“

“This doesn’t have to do wit—“

“And I really, really need to get my fuckin’ priorities straight. I mean, they are, just not in the way they should be.”

“Hey,” you chastise, shaking his hands for his attention. “You can’t control who you love, okay?"

Katsuki grumbles at that but you refuse, turning around to look him in the eyes.

"And neither can I.”

You let go of his hands in favor of pulling him down via his cheeks and giving him a big fat kiss on the lips. It’s peckish and brief, but it’s sweet and gets your point across. It's comfortable.

“The hell was that for?” Katsuki asks once you pull away. Though you see him struggle to hide a grin, eyes squinting more than they should.

“Easy,” you say, stepping forwards (as if there’s any space for that), “You looked lonely.”

Katsuki snorts, dropping his head, “Bastard.”

“And I’m being married off to an asshole,” you lament, pulling his face so close to the point you’re sure the strain on his back has got to be anything but sexy. He accommodates anyways—Katsuki always has; and night seems to suspend along with his baited breath as he waits for the next line, eyes shining with a painful hope you’re about to confirm.

“And I’m really, really going to miss you,” you say, shaking your head at how utterly true that statement is. Fuck.

The vulnerability slowly fades from his eyes at that, and Katsuki hums, clammy hands finding their rightful place around your hips.

“You shouldn’t call him an asshole, you know,” he says, face inching so close you can smell the champagne on his breath. “He means well.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” you quip back, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki shrugs, and you don’t realize he’s backing you up until your back kisses the cool railing.

“Well. I can’t help but feel a little bad,” he says cheekily as he inches closer, “‘Cause I make you feel so good, don’t I, Princess? Last time I checked, better than he ever could.”

You scoff at his audacity though it’s all good-natured, eyes preferring the moon over his heated gaze as he turns you around to face the courtyard.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, redirecting your attention using a finger on your jaw, “Eyes on me, Princess. You look really fuckin’ pretty under the stars, y’know.”

You snort at the compliment, rolling your eyes.

“‘M serious. A fuckin’ goddess,” he growls, leaving wet kisses up the column of your neck. Your breath hitches as he reaches your sweet spot and sucks, and you’re swatting him away before he can leave a mark.

“I sai—“

“One last time, Princess,” he bargains lowly as his hot hands slide their way from your waist to your breasts, taking their sweet time. Katsuki hooks his chin on your shoulder. “Lemme—Can I make you feel good one last time?”

You’re nodding with a whimper before you can berate yourself for being so fucking easy, the thought of not being able to indulge yourself with this, with him, any longer tosses any and all resistance out the window.

“Good,” Katsuki hums, tweaking your nipples through the bodice. “‘M gonna pay you back for being so good to me, yeah? For puttin' up with all my shit."

You scoff, mouth dropping to tell him you weren't putting up with his shit, but then a warm hand lands on your thigh—somehow, he's found a way under your dress. The hand slides up inner thigh and you feel Katsuki's chest shudder against your back as he finally reaches where you need him most.

"K-Kats—"

"Shhh, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" He grunts, pulling your panties to the side. You shiver from the change in temperature, watching another Duke and Duchess of half-drunkenly stumble into their carriages for the night, before there's a crack of a whip and hooves beat towards the exit. It's only a reminder of how painfully exposed you two are—one glance towards the balcony and any onlooker would know exactly what's happening. You hate it.

You hate that you don't.

"Atta girl," Katsuki purrs, groaning as he inserts a finger. You shiver, the weight of his being practically trapping you against the railing. "Always so fuckin' tight. I swear that asshole never fucks you right."

Katsuki's never been an impatient man and fills you with a second finger awfully fast, chuckling when you bite into the meat of your palm to hold back a whimper. His hips start to grind against the puff of your dress and he groans as quietly as he can, carelessly shoving down the sleeve of his suit jacket to bite into your shoulder.

You let out a broken moan much too loud for this time of night and it prompts Katsuki's free hand to stuff an equal amount of fingers into your mouth. "Y'know, something tells me you wanna get caught. You want the whole world to know how much you fuckin' hate that bastard, huh?"

You choke as Katsuki slides in a third digit next to the second, the slap of his palm against your pussy becoming nothing but obscene as your slick accentuates the sound. His hips speed up against your ass and that's enough friction to have the ash-blond groaning, along with the spit that drips down his forearm.

"So dirty for me, Princess," his hips stutter when you push back, tongue laving over the bite mark you'll probably have to conceal in the morning. Asshole. "You wanna cum like this, don't you? You're gonna cum all over my fingers in front of the entire royal court. Dumb little girl, can't even keep her mouth shut to keep us from gettin' caught."

You jam your heel into the balcony concrete so hard you positive it cracks before you're coming all over Katsuki's fingers, nearly choking on the ones in your mouth as you release the loudest broken moan you have that night. Katsuki's hips stutter against you and you're positive he's filling his boxers from the airy moan that follows, and his hand goes limp in your mouth before it slides out completely.

Your chests balloon in unison, his body draped over yours, and as you two catch your breath under the moonlight, you can’t help but think how much you’re going to miss this.

"Run away with me."

"I—" he does this. He always does this. He makes you feel on top of the world, acting like everything's fine, and then he pulls this shit on you. You look everywhere but him, nearly scoffing in disbelief. "Katsuki—"

"C'mon, Princess," Katsuki scrambles to flip you by the waist until your back is flush against the railing again and he’s cradling both your hands in his semi-damp ones. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t like, and it makes your chest burn. "Across the sea, people are movin’ over there and I—I know someone there, okay? Someone we could stay with, maybe help us get back on our feet an-and I found a fuckin’ ferry guy to take us across, and I can even pay him a little extra, o-or you, or—"

"Katsuki," you give him a sad smile, squeezing his hands tight. There's hope, too much hope in his eyes and it's fucking blinding. "Running away? I—this is—we have an obligation, we can't jus—"

"It'll be fine," he insists, stepping forwards and squeezing you back twice as hard. You sigh."I—the two kingdoms can merge or whatever the fuck they wanna do and then we'll be—"

"Katsuki."

"I—fuck Princess, I don't beg but goddammit, I'll do whatever you fuckin' want, get on my knees, I ca—"

"You really want to know what I want?"

Katsuki freezes. It's the first time you've ever seen some semblance of emotion in him that isn't anger or lust, with carmine red irises swimming in unshed tears—and fuck, you hate the sight. You want to shoot yourself in the fucking foot for what you’re about to do, but it’s for the best. It always is.

"Love her."

Katsuki looks at you, and his face drops, chest shuddering.

"I can't."

You drop his hands in favor of holding his face, thumbing at the hot tears running as they fall. God, Katsuki’s pretty—too pretty for his own good and he doesn’t even know it. His unsteady hands find themselves massaging your ribs and your foreheads knock together. "You need to try. Love her as much as you love me, yeah?"

"'S fuckin' impossible," Katsuki says with a wet snort, shaking his head with eyebrows raised. You giggle, throat impossibly tight.

"Almost, then? For me."

Katsuki’s red eyes stare at you through the darkness. You have half a mind to look the other way, but you figure you owe him this if nothing else, and as he lovingly absorbs your being under the moonlight for the last time, you really wish you could take your words back.

"I'll...fuck. Fine. I'll try." Katsuki resigns with a shrug, shaking his head. You two sniffle in unison and you suppress the strange urge to pinch him. "'M not gonna try to get over you, though. Sorry, not sorry."

You roll your eyes at that but it's all good-natured, followed by a choke you struggle to hide as his arms coil around your waist, "Then I won't either."

A genuine grin spreads across his face, and it’s borderline giddy—and a stark contrast against the waterworks. "She finally fuckin' admits it."

"Figured it was about time," you give him a wobbly smile before your eyes flicker to his, red blurring from being so close. Selene looks upon both of you with a reminiscent sigh.

"I love you, Katsuki Bakugou."

Katsuki sniffs before he laughs; it's wet, and near bitter, and he pulls you so close your face nearly shoves into his chest. "Fuck. Fuck, you're an asshole, you know that?"

"This is when you say it back," you bargain, squishing his cheeks. Katsuki presses his forehead deeper into yours.

"I love you too, Asshole."

He speaks with a softness you've never heard and it's like a gunshot to the heart, and as his lips inch closer to yours as your hands slide to thumb at his ears. One last kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?

Until there's a whistle and the click of footsteps. You and Katsuki jump a mile apart.

"Oh, [Y/N]! You're still out here in the cold?" Your fiancé asks with a raised eyebrow, but it seems like that's only an afterthought as he turns to Katsuki to say, "Your wife’s found the alcohol."

"Great," the ash-blond groans, understanding the translation—your fiancé is piss drunk in the ballroom.

"I do recommend you take her home. She's making quite a mess of the eclairs. And her face."

Katsuki heads inside without giving you a second glance, and your fiancé gives him a solid pat on the way in before turning to you halfway through the doorway, "Are you coming inside, Darling?"

"In a moment," you say with a smile. Your hand never leaves the railing. "Just getting some fresh air."

"Alrighty, then. I'll be in the bedroom. Waiting~" he winks, and with that, he's spinning on his heel, and you're alone with the moon again.

You watch Katsuki guide his inebriated fiancé into the carriage lovingly, with a smile on his face that isn't quite the one he wears with you but close enough, whispering whatever pleases her at the time with a chaste kiss on the cheek. You feel comfort in knowing that he has someone to love and someone to be loved by. He doesn't look your way—not once.

It's not until they drive away that you realize you still have his suit jacket draped over your shoulders. You don't doubt he did that on purpose, either.

Asshole.

[sparks-moods-worlds]

a long list of color/nature names in reverse alphabetical order from wikipedia

wisteria

wine

winter

violet vermillion

umber

thistle

steel

snow

smoke

sky

silver

sienna

shadow

scarlet

sapphire

sage

saffron

rust

russet

ruby

rose

rhythm

redwood

pine

persimmon

periwinkle

pear

peach

orchid

opal

onyx

olive

ochre

nyanza

myrtle

moss

misty

mint

midnight

may

marigold

malachite

lilac

lapis

kobi

june

jonquil

jasmine

jade

ivory

iris

indigo

gray

gold

ghost

fuschia

forest

flame

fire

fawn

erin

emerald

ebony

cyan

crystal

cornflower

coral

copper

claret

chestnut

charcoal

cerulean

cerise

celeste

celadon

cedar

carnelian

carmine

capri

byzantium

burgundy

bone

blush

blood

bittersweet

azure

auburn

ash

amethyst

amber

amaranth

alizarin

alabaster

aero