#she is bound to him and him setting her free and promising to forget her is his way of finally recognizing his part in her story

[sevarchive]

♡ masterlist ──

જ⁀➴ a home for heartbreak, honeyed words, and what-ifs.

oneshots,

i. eclipsed ┊yukimiya kenyu synopsis: in which a girl surrenders her own world so that the boy she loves the most can still see his.

ii. between petals and promises┊bachira meguru synopsis: in which two childhood best friends found magic in small moments and shared dreams beneath cherry blossoms.

iii. ghost of you┊sae itoshi synopsis: in which sae itoshi is haunted not by loss, but by erasure—forced to remember a girl the universe has already decided he doesn’t deserve to keep.

iv. make me divine┊rin itoshi synopsis: in which rin itoshi saves a life but loses the truth; because love, when twisted into possession, can never truly set someone free.

v. the girl with the bow┊multiple blue lock characters synopsis: in which a girl tries to survive the apocalypse; but survival is never just about the living, and some choices never stop bleeding.

vi. waiting in pieces┊rin itoshi synopsis:after rin’s bitter fallout with his brother, y/n leaves the country for her dreams, reopening wounds rin thought had healed.

vii. lay on me┊hiori yo synopsis: after a leg injury, yo hiori showers you with care and sweet surprises during your week of recovery.

viii. wish you were sober┊oliver aiku synopsis: in which a summer party brings oliver aiku and his long-broken friend back to a night they once tried to forget, forcing them to confront the memories of that drunken evening—and everything left unsaid.

viiii. the man who killed stars┊karasu tabito synopsis: in which a man torn between duty and love faces the devastating cost of loyalty as he struggles to reclaim the home and life he promised to the woman he was meant to kill.

x. scorched┊michael kaiser synopsis: in which you mistake michael kaiser's warmth for love, and only ㅤㅤㅤrealize the difference once you're already burning.

xi. half of everything┊isagi yoichi synopsis: in which isagi yoichi fell in love with someone else, and you helped him. because loving him meant staying, even if it meant guiding him into someone else's arms.

xii. pages between us┊rin itoshi synopsis: in which a boy who forgot how to speak meets a not-so-quiet girl who never needed words to understand him.

xiii. head over cleats┊isagi yoichi synopsis: in which isagi yoichi thinks dodging his crush will help, but ends up proving he's all heart and no strategy when you finally confronted him.

xiii. what the crown forgets┊barou shoei synopsis: in which a servant girl and a crown prince share a love too tender for a kingdom built on cruelty, and years later, all that remains is what the crown chose to forget.

xiv. from scratch, with love┊barou shoei synopsis: in which your attempt at baking barou a birthday cake goes horribly wrong—but somehow, he ends up loving it (and you) anyway.

xv. strawberry gummies┊shidou ryusei synopsis: in which two kids grew up side by side in an orphanage, and swore they’d never leave each other behind, but not all promises survive growing up.

xvi. simmer to a boil┊karasu tabito synopsis: in which two fierce rivals were stuck in the same cooking class, only to discover that the sweetest recipes (and feelings) come from the messiest beginnings.

xvii. hiraeth┊kunigami rensuke synopsis: in which kunigami rensuke, a young soldier bound by a quiet promise, faces the ravages of war and the weight of love waiting in the shadows of an uncertain future.

xviii. your lips taste like peach juice┊nagi seishiro synopsis: in which nagi seishiro gets dragged into a kissing booth by reo and accidentally steals your first kiss and heart.

xviiii. call me back┊isagi yoichi synopsis: in which isagi yoichi misses your birthday, and fight breaks out; then he realizes that not every call gets a second chance.

drabbles,

i. blue lock characters! taking you to a date. starring: kurona ranze, gin gagamaru, raichi jingo, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru

ii. blue lock characters! falling out of love with you. starring: itoshi rin, yukimiya kenyu, karasu tabito, barou shoei, yo hiori, kiyora jin

iii. blue lock characters! when someone hits on you. starring: yukimiya kenyu, itoshi sae, barou shoei, sendou shuto and chigiri hyoma

iv. blue lock characters! when they're downbad for you. starring: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, karasu tabito, itoshi sae, sendou ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤshuto, and reo mikage

v. blue lock characters! with a long-haired s/o. starring: kiyora jin, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, yukimiya kenyu, karasu tabito, and mikage reo

vi. blue lock characters! as love languages. starring: isagi yoichi, hiori yo, reo mikage, bachira meguru, and nagi seishiro

vii. blue lock characters! staying beside you through your recovery. starring: jin kiyora, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, yukimiya kenyu, and hiori yo

viii. blue lock characters! giving you a headlock. starring: barou shoei, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, and shidou ryusei

viiii. blue lock characters! trying out period simulators. starring: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, and barou shoei

x. blue lock characters! with a filthy rich s/o. starring: kiyora jin, chigiri hyoma, sae itoshi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, kurona ranze, and yukimiya kenyu

headcanons,

i. blue lock! as a kid headcanons starring: chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, yukimiya kenyu, kiyora jin and nijiro nanase

ii. blue lock! with a pretty but sleep deprived s/o headcanons starring: chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, yukimiya kenyu, and kiyora jin

iii. blue lock! in final destination headcanons starring: rin itoshi, isagi yoichi, barou shoei, chigiri hyoma, bachira meguru, reo mikage, yukimiya kenyu, and oliver aiku

iv. nagi seishiro! on your first date together headcanons starring: nagi seishiro

v. blue lock! what games they played as a kid headcanons starring: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, barou shoei, nagi seishiro, reo mikage, rin itoshi, sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, otoya eita, karasu tabito and gagamaru gin

vi. sae itoshi! doing the “whisper affirmations” asmr trend headcanons starring: sae itoshi

vii. rin itoshi! as a girl dad headcanons starring: rin itoshi

smaus,

i. conspiracies and cleats (finished)┊ isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, rin itoshi, kunigami rensuke, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, nagi seishiro part 1 ┊ part 2┊ part 3

ii. bllk kahoot edition (oneshot)┊isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, shidou ryusei, bachira meguru, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, barou shouei, gagamaru gin, and kunigami rensuke

iii. don't let them find ao3! (oneshot)┊rin itoshi and sae itoshi

iv. flirting for dummies? (oneshot)┊itoshi rin, bachira meguru, karasu tabito, and barou shouei

v. i fork, therefore i am (oneshot)┊itoshi rin, bachira meguru, isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, gagamaru gin

જ⁀➴ © sevarchive ✦ masterlist ; like/reblogs are appreciated ꣑ৎ

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part VII

Word count: 4400+

Warnings: mentions of blood and suffocation

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part VI | Part VIII

Eris kept his promise. At first, he met with you just once or twice a week, but lately it had been happening more and more often. That old library full of books and lacquered wood was your most frequented meet place. It took you some time, but eventually you learnt how to get there on your own and didn't need anyone's help.

Most recently, though your husband started to prefer meetings in his free time. He began showing up for meals in the chambers or invited you to secluded gazebo in the garden. Sometimes he even managed to take a break for hour or two and replacing your maids, now your best friends, he escorted you to the gardens, showing you secret paths. He knew this place as the back of his hand and you wondered how the heir could have so much time to explore it so well. It was so easy to forget about the fact that he had centuries to do so, his young appearance seemingly giving him maximally 9 years over you.

Time was passing in a slow flow of peaceful days when nobody expected you to submit, to stay still, to not think, speak or feel. Nobody bound you with ridiculous rules and you felt happier than ever. The memories of the nineteen years of your life were impossible to forget and you often wondered whether this life was just a fantasy of your tortured mind. Whether they finally broke you beyond the repair. It was strange that in this huge castle, you had ever met only Eris, his brother and advisor Killian, Ellen and Irene and several servants and guards. Were you the only ones living here? Where were the others?

These thoughts occupied your mind so much that you completely forgot about your upcoming birthday.

Back in Hewn City your birthday was a day as any other. Nobody celebrated it. You never got presents. You knew when you were born only thanks to your mother who every year secretly whispered you happy birthday. Your father most likely didn't remember it at all, so you strongly doubted that he could share such information with your husband or his court. You've never been asked about it, too. Thus you didn't expect anything to happen.

How surprised you were when Irene came to your chambers one afternoon with a bright smile, followed by servants who carefully brought in tailor's figurine in dress and set it down.

The doors closed behind the last servant and you could finally take a proper look. It was the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, worth of a queen.

Your eyes lingered on the bodice of bronze colour with sweetheart neckline that was held on place by ribbons with bows of the same colour. It looked like an polished armour thanks to the top layer of shiny chiffon and the crest of Autumn Court embroidered in its centre. If it wasn't for a gauzy floating sleeves falling from the shoulders, it would be too eccentric for you to dare to even wear it.

The bodice naturally flowed into a skirt composed of feather shaped strips of a dark silk and an embroidered chiffon in muted colours of autumn. The skirt pooled on the floor around the base of figurine, creating a train. The slit in the front part of it was reaching up to the half of thighs, undoubtedly supposed to reveal the legs with every step.

Irene took out the shoes she brought in a box. Simple lacquered black high heels were decorated with delicate bronze leaves and flowers that connected into complicated ornament of bronze wires in the front.

You had to sit down, short for a breath. You'd never seen anything like this in Hewn City. Your High Lady, her sisters and Morrigan usually wore impressive dresses, but this.. This was the masterpiece.

"Why.. What is this dress for?" you stuttered unable to take your eyes off of it.

Irene smiled sheepishly. "High Lord had it all made for you for tonight."

"For tonight?" You fished in your memory, but Eris hadn't mention anything to you despite of meeting him only a few hours ago.

"Yes, there's going to be a banquette. But let's get you ready. We have a lot to do."

"Wait. Where's Ellen?" You hadn't seen her since you returned from a walk.

"Oh, don't worry. She should be here anytime soon."

Irene helped you with bath and while your hair was drying she worked on your face. She chose palette of eye shadows that matched the dress, creating intrigued but for you maybe too heavy makeup. Ever since you left Hewn City you used only bare minimum and very light natural makeup. When Irene was applying a dark red rouge on your lips, doors opened and Ellen walked in with covered satin pillow. She was beaming.

"I'm so glad that you haven't started without me," she said as she left the pillow on the bed. "I already thought that I won't make it in time."

From the minimal reaction to the dress it was clear that she, as well as Irene, had already seen it before and so she wasn't surprised at all.

"I can't wait to see you in that magnificent dress. I tell you, our High Lord has a good eye."

Irene fixed last details of your face and they both helped you into the dress. But before you could look in a mirror, they ushered you back to the vanity.

"Don't be impatient and let us finish your look. You will love it," they reassured you and started to braid your thick hair into a complicated hairstyle. Of course, they didn't forget to cover the mirror so you couldn't see what they were doing. At last Ellen took the thing that she brought on the satin pillow and they put it on your head. It was round and a bit heavier than a headdresses you used to wear to balls under the mountain.

"We are done," they announced proudly with tears lining their eyes. They helped you to stand up and then took few steps back to take a better look of you.

"Y/N, you are so beautiful," they sobbed in unison. "Our High Lady."

"But I'm no High Lady," you objected in embarrassment.

"You are. Look!"

They moved the tall mirror, so you finally could take a look at yourself. The breath caught in your throat and you staggered. A powerful High Lady was staring back at you with slightly opened blood red lips. The dress perfectly hugged your body, accentuating your curves. And as if it wasn't enough, on top of your head sat a real gold crown of twisted twigs decorated with maple leaves made of opals and rubies. You looked as a totally different person, despite the fact that in your heart you were still that powerless, scared female.

You stood there staring at yourself until another knock sounded on the doors. Irene rushed to answer.

"You look so good, my Lord," you heard her say.

"If I knew that an angel will greet me here, I would wear something more fancy," you heard Killian's flirty response. "Is our fairy princess ready?"

"She is and she is fabulous. Even you will be short for words once you see her." She fully opened the doors and let him in. Killian affectionately pinched her cheek as he passed her and then he tripped, his mouth hanging open as his eyes roamed over you.

"What.." He gazed at you, speechless.

"If this doesn't break him.." he muttered under his breath. Then he cleared his throat.

"I'm here to escort you, my dear sister. Instead of Eris who will be a bit late, unfortunately. Can you give us a moment?" He turned to the smiling maids who bowed to him and left.

Killian returned back to you with serious expression, giving you a sorrowful look.

"Now listen carefully, doll. I have to warn you. Our court.. it's quite brutal kind of place like your home," he grimaced. "That's one of the reasons why Eris has changed several things here before your arrival and now keeps a whole wing of castle only for family. We, and I mean me and Eris, have to behave in certain way to be able to keep these people under control. Our beloved father made sure that they are all just as wicked bastards as he was. A single slip and we could be seen as weak, incompetent and easy to replace. We don't have resources to stop a revolution right now as Eris just took over the place. Once we have reins firmly in our hands and certain changes we are working on, are made, everything will be different and we can be who we are wherever we want. But for now, bear with us, will you?"

You blinked in confusion. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"What I meant is that we will be a bit different than our usual selves, brutish and rude if I should be honest. You probably already noticed it at your wedding. Eris had to hold back a lot that night."

You remembered the cold, contemptuous frown he wore while watching the dancers and the small cracks when you glimpsed his true self underneath it. If you learnt something about him this last few weeks, it was that he wasn't that kind of person in real. That he was in fact the opposite of all the rumours you'd ever heard about him. You slowly nodded.

"Tonight won't be ideal. Just think about it as about a masquerade. Nevertheless, I hope you'll enjoy it. It's your night after all and I prepared something special to make it more bearable. Let's go." He took your hand, heading for the doors.

"Wait!" You pulled back, stopping him. "My night? What do you mean?"

"You'll see," fox like grin spread on his face, amber eyes shone with mischief. "Oh, and one more thing. I guess I don't need to tell you this as you'll probably fall back to your old ways anyway, but be careful when someone approaches you. Not everyone who seems to be friendly, is our friend in real."

If all the strange stuff he told you before didn't seriously scare you then this last warning did.

Killian led you down the staircases and hallways, until you stopped before great double doors which you immediately recognised. It was the same ball room where your wedding party was held.

"Time to once again meet the elite of your subjects, your Grace," Killian winked at you and in an instant his brand smirk was gone replaced by that cold demeanour and bored expression he had when you met him for the first time.

He unhooked your hand from his arm and sharply opened the doors.

"Welcome her Grace, consort of High Lord of Autumn Court," his deep voice called into the room and everyone immediately fell silent.

You inhaled shakily. He didn't give you much time to prepare, but the lessons that were beaten into you, were good at least for something. You straightened your shoulders, holding your head up and the gaze down, and walked in.

A wave of surprised 'ah' and 'oh' ran through the gathered crowd and they all bowed down like one man. With the same bored expression Killian offered you a hand and with the other one behind his back, he gallantly led you to the steps and a table with three chairs, the middle one bigger and higher than the other two.

He was showing you off, making a spectacle of you and the dress. You felt like a trophy. As far as you knew, Lady of Autumn never wore crowns, only smaller tiaras. They were sending out some kind of message, but you weren't experienced in such political matters to understand it better. The number of glares you felt on you pierced your skin like blades, making you even more nervous and feel sick.

He held one of the smaller chairs for you and then taking the other one, clapped his hands. Everyone took their seats and servants started to bring in food.

In the chaos you got a chance to look around. The ballroom was huge, a show of opulence with its white and golden walls and high vaulted ceiling. It was decorated with garlands of autumn leaves of mainly red colours that contrasted with all that gold, hanging between massive chandeliers with fae lights. In the vases next to each marble pillar around the perimeter of the room were big bouquets of flowers in yellow and red colours. The last rays of the setting sun penetrated through the rows of windows that led to the terrace and bathed the room in a golden glow. It was breathtaking.

Each of the tables was also decorated with smaller arrangements of flowers combined with leaves. It perfectly matched the gold goblets, cutlery and trays. However, in the arrangement before your plate you noticed small pink nerine inconspicuously stuck among the flowers so that no one else could see it. Out of the corner of your eye you looked at Killian. He nodded inconspicuously and corners of his mouth slightly twitched. Eris.

As if you called his name aloud, the doors opened and he walked in.

Eris was freshly shaved, once again shorter red hair combed back. With high black boots, ash colour breeches and tunic in the same bronze colour as your bodice, he looked like High Lord through and through. The fact was emphasized even by a massive gold crown of entwined twigs with maple leaves made of opals and rubies, a pair to the crown on your head.

The breath caught in your throat as he was heading your way. The power radiated from him with every step, swirling and seeping through his skin. Everyone in the room immediately stood up and bowed and you did so, too, with a little delay. It was a bit of shock to see the frown on his face that in any other situation would already have been replaced by a kind smile. He was again wearing the mask of cruelty that you remembered from your home. However, when he came closer you noticed the warm embers in his eyes as they traveled down your body and then back up.

He took your hand to place a kiss on back of it, eyes never leaving yours.

"You're stunning," he whispered into your skin so only you heard him.

Still holding your hand he gestured to others to sit down.

"Welcome!" His deep, sonorous voice bounced off the walls. "Today we gathered here to celebrate the 20th birthdays of my wife. May you have a long life and soon endow this court with number of heirs."

You stiffened. While others took theirs goblets and toasted to you with all kinds of expressions that you didn't want to even try to decipher, you just stood there unable to move. Killian had warned you, but those words hurt nonetheless. It reminded you of the only purpose you were supposed to live for and overshadowed even the fact that he knew when you were born and decided to celebrate it.

Heirs. You were expected to give birth to heirs like some breeding mare while you hadn't even been deflowered yet. It was like a bucket of cold water, the worst of the worst mockery.

Eris sat down and you stiffly followed him. While you were trying to push the tears back and catch a breath, servants served food on your plate. You again lost all your appetite.

Your husband next to you hesitantly reached for your hand under the table.

"Can we talk later?" he muttered. You just nodded, gazing in front of you. He squeezed your hand, running thumb over the knuckles in a calming way and sent a wave of warmth into your body. "Please, now eat."

You did as you were told, but you couldn't manage more than a few bites. With whole your being you concentrated on the small pink nerine.

It's just mask. Don't take it seriously.

No matter how many times you repeated those words in your mind, it still hurt. After the meal was over a party had begun. At first it wasn't any different from your wedding. The guests gathered on the parquet while small orchestra played in the corner.

Suddenly different kind of music played, carried on the wind from outside. It was a wild melody full of booming drums. Everyone stilled, heads turning to the gardens, there was a tension in the air. All the windows to the terrace opened at once and the smell of bonfires filled your nose. As if it was a signal, the room exploded with laughs and everyone was heading out in a crazy maze of bodies. The etiquette-obsessed nobles turned into wild magical creatures right before your eyes.

Eris turned to his brother with raised brow. "I don't remember mentioning bonfires." The anger in his voice cause a shiver ran down your spine.

"She's twenty only once," Killian shrugged, unaffected.

Eris shook his head in disbelief. "As if she shouldn't see it every year at the equinox."

Killian rolled his eyes. "This way it at least will be some fun. Let's go out," Killian laughed and he was actually hopping on the way out. It was really comical to see such outgrown male doing so. If it was a different kind of situation, you would have laughed until you couldn't more.

Eris watched his back, frowning. "I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted, not that I-," he sighed in disappointment, running his hand over face. His lips pressed into a thin line. "And I'm also sorry for what I said for a toast. That isn't what I really-.."

"It's fine," you stopped him. You didn't want to hear that anyway. All you wanted at the moment was to go out so you didn't have to be alone with him. And that's what you did. "Are we going?"

"Sure," he caught up with you in a few long steps and offering you a hand, he led you to the terrace. His steps faltered before you got to the windows. "No. Wait. I can't leave it like this."

He took your chin between his index finger and thumb, making you to look up into his amber eyes that burned like fires. The lights in the room dimmed until you stood there in almost complete darkness and the only light was coming from outside.

"I want to make things clear right now. I don't want you to be angry with me for wrong reasons. I asked Killian to prepare you for this, but I should have known better and do it myself in the morning when I had chance. Fuck all surprises." He swallowed hard, his gaze boring into you, pleading you to understand. Your lower lip quivered. He was still angry. "Except of the long life part I didn't mean it. All I really wish for is your happiness. I don't.." He exhaled shakily, composing himself.

"Maybe you've already noticed it, but you aren't a prisoner here nor I expect from you anything you don't want to give me. This all.. I wanted for you something that you could fully enjoy, but there are certain expectations that I have to fulfill currently. We can't leave right away," he gestured to the gardens and the guests scattered there, "but there's going to be another birthday celebration for you after this. The real one. The sincere one, even though not so pompous as this all. Just the two of us. And maybe Kill, if he won't be too drunken. I promise."

You listened to his words which he spoke with such urgency in voice, something really atypical for him. As he was talking, the tears gathered in your eyes.

"I understand. I really do. Killian told me that I shouldn't take it seriously. I'm so sorry for my behaviour."

"You have any right for that." His thumb wiped away a tear before it could roll down your face and destroy Irene's hard work. Hand lingering on your cheek, his eyes fell to your lips and then returned back to your eyes, asking for permission. A small nod was all he needed to slowly lean down. His soft lips brushed over yours, his breath fanned over your face. When you didn't back out, he claimed your lips in a tender kiss, lazily moving. Tip of his tongue pressed between your lips, looking for a way in. Before you could grant him entry, his chest vibrated with a low growl and he broke the kiss, resting forehead on your shoulder.

"Mother help me," he whispered out of breath. "You are so beautiful today, a goddess."

You shook your head, trying to calm down your racing heart. "I heard that you ordered this dress for me."

"I wanted them all to see their powerful High Lady, to fall on their knees in front of you," he snorted, "but your beauty exceeded my expectations. You have me in your grip, my Lady. At least for tonight, do whatever you want with me. I'll gladly accept it all."

You gasped in surprise and blushed, but he only grinned mischievously, took your hand and led you out. "This is the real Autumn Court," he waved his hand, showing you the bonfires on a meadow behind the flower garden.

The flames were shooting high into the sky, the wine was flowing in streams and all the lords and ladies had turned into a wild creatures, laughing and dancing around. Nobody cared about the status or manners.

In distance you saw Killian with feral grin dancing with some girl near the bonfire, their bodies swirled around each other and it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. It felt as if you were witnessing something inappropriate and had the urge to turn away, but you couldn't take your eyes off of them.

"Come," Eris's deep voice growled near your ear and your toes curled at its undertone promising you the same level of wildness and intimacy that those two had. He pulled on your hand, amber eyes burning, same wolfish smile on his lips.

The rhythm of drums pulsed through your veins and you got carried away by it. Eris led you through the rippling crowd to the closest bonfire and without warning pulled you to his body.

It was pure madness.

Without knowing the steps, led only by those drums and instincts, you swirled around each other, bodies pressed together so firmly there was no space in between you. His warm hands were at your face, shoulders, waist, hips, everywhere, caressing and squeezing until you were sure there would be marks left on your skin. Everything and everyone around you blurred into a mass of colours, only his face with those fiery eyes was clear. The fire was licking your skin, burning your body from inside out and you didn't mind it the slightest because you were the flame yourself.

You changed dancing partners several times, but you couldn't remember their faces even if you tried. At some point you danced even with Killian who with wide grin nuzzled to your neck in a very inappropriate way, but you both only laughed at it.

You danced and danced until you couldn't anymore and stumbling you went looking for something to quench thirst. Some female pressed a goblet with an amber liquid in it into your hand and you drank a few gulps without questioning it.

Tired and overheated you headed into an empty garden, letting the cool breeze to caress your hot cheeks. You groaned in relief.

"Here you are. I've been looking for you," strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you to a broad chest. Heat radiated from his body as Eris nuzzled to your neck, placing hot kisses under your ear. "Tired?"

You hummed in answer, leaning into his touch. You both were still too high to care about the level of your intimacy.

"The evening isn't over yet," he whispered with his lips sliding down the column of your neck, his fingers lurking just inches from your breasts. He sounded out of breath. "I promised you to properly celebrate your birthday. Come."

He took your hand and led you away from the bonfires and music, to a secluded balcony overlooking the east gardens. Except of the small table there was nothing.

Your head was pounding, your sight blurred out and again refocused. You blamed all the dancing for it and took another gulp from the goblet. You still couldn't catch your breath.

Eris waved hand and on the small table appeared a beautiful cake and a small box tied with pink bow. With a snap of fingers he lit the candles and not only on the cake. There were dozens of them on the floor and the railings.

"Happy birthday, Y/N" he smiled softly. "Wish for something."

You wanted to return the smile, but couldn't. Your airways suddenly closed and you began to choke and cough violently, fighting for air.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Eris immediately sobered and reached for you alarmed, his brows knitted together.

With another coughing fit, your mouth filled with something warm and sticky. The blood. Eris's eyes widened and he draw you to his chest. He snatched the goblet from your clenched fingers and sniffed it.

"No," he snarled and the goblet turned into an ash on his palm. He scooped you up in his arms, running through hallways with you. "Y/N, stay with me. Do you hear me? Look at me!"

You tried to focus on his face, really tried but he was nothing but blur. You desperately gasped for air, your consciousness gradually slipping away.

"What's going on?" You could hear Killian's voice in the distance.

"Bring healer! Immediately!" Eris barked the orders. "Bring her to her room! No one must know about this!"

Eris kicked some doors open and then again and laid you down on soft bed. His warm hand pressed to your cold cheek.

"Y/N, stay with me. Fight it! Please.."

You heard some commotion and voices, but after a while everything went silent except of buzzing in your ears. Gasping for air, you focused on his amber eyes. You wanted to take the memory with you wherever you would go from here as the darkness slowly swallowed you.

[nie13chen]

Player 132

-> Chapter 1

Pairing: In-ho x f! y/n (3rd person)

Summary: In-ho promises himself not to get involved too much with you since he's aware that you could die in the games anytime. However, during his night watch, something seems to be the matter with you, so he follows you to the bathroom.

Words: 1,665

Tags: @ruby-the-scholar

Chapter 2 - Games and Nightmares

In-ho lay awake for a long time that night, reflecting on his encounter with Player 132. He clasped his hands behind his head, staring at the piggy bank on the ceiling. The dim light seemed to weigh heavily on his chest, casting a sense of foreboding he thought he had long forgotten. His thoughts kept drifting back to the far side of the dormitory, to the bed he had just left. His pulse quickened as he strained to make out the shadow belonging to the pianist.

A shiver ran through him as he remembered. The last time he had felt this way, she had still been alive. He thought about the last time he had touched her, the last time he’d felt the delicate warmth of her skin, and a sharp pain shot through his chest. The image of her lifeless, cloudy eyes staring blankly at the ceiling burned itself back into his mind.

In-ho turned onto his side, hoping to silence the memory. Instead, doubts crept over his blanket, slithering into his thoughts with their rustling whispers. He had often questioned whether what he was doing was truly his only fate. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come back, but now, he couldn't stray from his path. Above all, he couldn’t draw any attention to himself. Everything had to proceed as planned, or he would be dead in the end.

132’s melody still lingered in his mind as he tried to find sleep—the melancholic harmony of the notes, her alto voice, so strangely free of fear, wrapping his thoughts in a warm and soft cocoon. In-ho closed his eyes, trying to drown his memories in darkness.

Eventually, he fell into a restless, dreamless sleep.

-

The next morning, In-ho was jolted awake by the announcement of the next game. On the way to the arena, In-ho's gaze briefly crossed with Player 132’s, but he looked away. It was safer not to get too involved with her, just in case she didn’t survive the second round. The thought wrapped tightly around his throat, mingling with his resolve.

As they entered the arena for the second game, In-ho couldn’t help but feel impressed by the setting, even though he had seen it before. The stark contrast between childhood games and the ever-present specter of death still struck him after all these years. A fleeting smile crossed his lips. Everything was ready. The games could begin.

After the first teams had won, a new dynamic began to emerge among the players—something In-ho had never witnessed in past games. They cheered each other on, as if forgetting that every death meant a higher prize. For a moment, it seemed as though the will to survive overshadowed greed and desperation. For a brief moment, life triumphed.

When Player 132’s team was up, In-ho suddenly grew still. He felt every muscle in his body tense. Y/n was bound by her ankles to the other players, and for a split second, he felt like a prisoner too. The thought was dispelled by the starting signal. They completed the first three games without issues, but then it was 132’s turn to spin the top. In-ho noticed the tremble in her hands, and it began to spread to his own. He clenched his teeth so hard it hurt. In-ho glanced at the clock. Ninety seconds left. 132 slipped off the top’s cord.

“Come on,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else, but Gi-hun, seated next to him, heard it and glanced at him and Player 132 with a questioning look.

Y/n slipped again, and time was running out. Just over a minute remained. The other team members started panicking, shouting instructions at her.

57 seconds. 56. 55.

In-ho’s fingers dug into the sand on the floor, leaving deep grooves behind.

“Is something the matter?” Gi-hun cautiously tried to approach him.

“Hm?”

In-ho looked at him absentmindedly, as though he hadn’t understood the question. For the first time, Gi-hun felt as though he was staring straight through him. Yesterday, he had lectured him on how these games were a chance for the participants; minutes ago, they had cheered for other teams together. Now, he seemed ready to give up. Before he could respond, a cheer erupted among the players. Y/n had managed to spin the top, but they had lost significant time. When they reached the final station, only 30 seconds remained.

The last player succeeded on the second attempt, and the team sprinted toward the finish line.

5 seconds. 4. 3. 2...

In-ho lowered his head, closed his eyes, and listened to the gunfire.

-

“Young-il...”

In-ho felt someone shaking his shoulder. Gi-hun’s voice sounded distant, even though he was seated right next to him.

“Young-il, they made it.”

Gi-hun spoke softly, ensuring only In-ho could hear. In-ho raised his head, and the first thing he saw was Player 132, giving him a strained smile as her ankle restraints were removed. He looked around: the opposing team hadn’t made it. Gi-hun was telling the truth. In-ho exhaled. Only now did he realize he had been holding his breath. Gi-hun gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and nodded at him, as if promising to keep what he had just witnessed a secret.

-

That night, while In-ho kept watch, he suddenly heard a soft whimper followed by frantic breathing. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Player 132 crawling out from under a bed. Gi-hun had convinced her to stay with their team after the last vote, believing there would be fights that night. 132’s forehead glistened with sweat, and her blank stare seemed not to notice him at all. When she finally realized she wasn’t alone, she looked at him in desperation.

“In-ho...” she whispered.

She got up awkwardly and stumbled past him.

“Excuse me please.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, heading toward the guarded door. She knocked. He didn’t understand what she said, but In-ho knew the guard wouldn’t let her through. He followed her. When he reached Player 132, he noticed the silent tears streaming down her face.

“May I?” he asked gently. She stepped aside. In-ho knocked, and the sliding window opened, casting a yellow light on his sharp features. The soldier, recognizing him, immediately unlocked the door. Y/n felt a hand on her waist, gently guiding her through the door. In-ho followed her, noting how she trembled all over. At the bathroom, he paused in the doorway. Y/n staggered to the sink, turned on the water, and splashed her face with cold water. She drank a few sips and clung to the edge of the sink before sinking to her knees, sobbing.

In-ho hesitated, watching her. His gaze wandered over her body, which flinched fearfully with every breath, her dark hair clinging to her forehead, her delicate hands clutching for support, her parted lips gasping for air. After a while, he slowly approached her. He silently knelt down beside her and carefully placed his hand on her shoulder.

Y/n startled at his touch, having forgotten for a moment that he was there. The warmth of his hand chased away the shadows for a fleeting moment.

“It’s alright,” he began, his voice deeper and softer than usual. “Everyone here is afraid.”

“It’s not the games,” she admitted hesitantly, motioning to the green circle on her chest. “It’s what brought me here. Honestly, what’s waiting for me out there is worse than dying here. Here, I’m just a number, waiting for a quick death at worst. But out there...”

She faltered.

In-ho’s throat tightened as she spoke. These were the same thoughts he had used to convince himself that these games were justified—that they were a chance, and the losers were mercifully freed from their suffering. Yet hearing her speak this way about her life, her only life, shook him to his core.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” he murmured. Carefully, he pried her hand away from the sink. He looked into her eyes and gently brushed her shoulder. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Then, unexpectedly, y/n reached for his hand. He inhaled softly, the touch tearing at him even as it was the gentlest thing he had felt in years. Something inside him cracked. In-ho gazed at her. There was something about his expression that y/n couldn't quite fathom, a mixture of despair, longing, curiosity, and restraint. A deep crease formed on his brow.

At last, he could no longer deny what Player 132 meant to him.

In-ho woke from his thoughts, and for the first time since he had set foot on this island nine years ago, he did something without thinking about it: He pulled 132 into his arms. He heard her gasp in surprise, but then felt her body relax in his embrace. Y/n let their head sink onto In-Ho's shoulder and allowed herself to be carried by the safety of his touch. She inhaled his scent—a blend of faded aftershave and the dusty sand from the last game’s arena. In-ho tightened his grip, and Y/n found herself marveling at the strength that held her, shielding her pain with undeniable security. She felt the warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the tension in his muscles. For several long moments, neither dared to move, each trying to prolong the moment without tearing it apart.

Suddenly, an unknown fear gripped In-ho, stealing his breath. What if it happened again? What if what he was experiencing now was taken from him? Even as the Front Man, he couldn’t predict what would happen if he broke the rules to try to protect her. Surely, the higher-up’s would see it as treason. Perhaps this was the last time they would share a moment together. Perhaps tomorrow, she would be gone.

He tightened his arms around her, and they remained like this until the shadows haunting their minds had faded away.

-> Chapter 3 - Whispers of the Past

[little-diable]

Heaven on a hellbound train - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Requested by my love @zablife for my birthday bash celebration. The lyrics are from Noah Derksen's song "Heaven on a hell-bound train". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader curses Tommy for forgetting about her once again and he is all set on reminding her of their bond, pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, Tommy is a dick, reader is angry, dom!Tommy

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (800 words)

She was seething, angry eyes set on his emotionless features. (Y/n) had her hands pressed to her waist as if she was trying to stop herself from reaching out to strangle her husband. Minutes had ticked by ever since she had stumbled into his office, cursing him for forgetting yet another evening he was supposed to spend with her instead of whatever deal he was currently working on. 

“Go to bed, (y/n), get some sleep, eh?” A humourless laugh left her at his words, taking a step closer so she could almost feel the burn of his cigarette, ashes falling from the cigarette like all the lives he had taken. 

“You think you’ve got it oh so bad, don’t you, Thomas? But let me tell you something, we are all fucking struggling here. It don't matter if you're standing in the rain, we're all trying to get to heaven on a hell-bound train.” His piercing eyes found hers again, allowing her a glimpse of the emotions he was fighting against. With a deep sigh leaving her, she rounded his table to come to a halt right in front of him. “I just want to spend some time with my husband, is that so wrong of me?”

The cigarette was left to burn out in his ashtray as Tommy reached for her, pulling (y/n) into his lap before his lips found hers. He tasted of alcohol, of cigarettes, and of unshed blood, while she tasted of home and a sweetness he had never been deserving of, “Is that what you want? A fuck?”

“I want whatever you’re willing to give me, Thomas. But I won’t accept you forgetting about me, my life is too short to give my time to a husband who barely knows what his own bedroom looks like.” His lips found hers again to successfully shut her up, knowing that this wouldn’t be the last time they’d speak about this. But for tonight Tommy couldn’t deal with any of it, of all those emotions he found himself distracted by. (Y/n) clung to him as he rose to his feet, carrying her to the small couch to place her down on it, fingers already working on her dress to shuffle it up to her waist. 

“This will be a quick fuck, a reminder that I love my own fucking wife more than anything else, you hear me?” His hand found her face, squishing her cheeks to draw nothing but a whine out of her. Tommy didn’t need much time to rip her undergarments down her legs, exposing her aching cunt to his dangerous eyes. For a moment, his touch was sweet almost, fingers brushing over her soft skin to feel her arousal. 

It had been a fleeting moment, ripped apart by Tommy letting go of her. (Y/n) watched him free his cock, knowing better than to reach for him, at least not tonight. He spat down on his cock, pumping himself a few times before brushing his tip through her folds. At that very moment, she could recognise the man she had once married, buried under darkening layers ready to swallow all of him. 

“Look at me, convince yourself of the love you fear I no longer feel for you.” The words had a mean undertone, something (y/n) tried to drown out as he sank into her. Tommy pushed all of himself inside of her, burying his cock in her tightness with a heavy groan. Even though he couldn’t put it into words, she knew that he had missed being close to her just as much, cursing himself for being this distracted. 

Just like Tommy had promised, it was anything but a slow fuck, it was fuelled by their need, by the ticking clock, and the desperate ache for an orgasm. His hips met hers with every thrust, set on leaving bruises she could cling to like a wordless promise, bruises similar to the scratches she left on the back of his neck, close to drawing blood. 

“God, Tommy,” she sobbed her words, struggling to keep looking at him while he fucked her closer to the edge. It was ironic, praising the man she had cursed minutes ago, all because he was finally touching her again, making it feel like a drug pushing through her system after staying away from it for too long. 

“Cum for me, show me how good I’m making you feel.” (Y/n) came seconds later. Her walls clenched his cock, giving him the needed push to follow her down the edge, letting go with a groan before he kissed her breathless. 

“It would help us both if you finally believed how much I love you.”

[mxtantrights]

Helion tells the reader the truth

"I promised your mother I would protect you. And I admit I haven't been forthcoming about certain things, but never have I put you in danger." Helion says.

"It's okay, but you have to explain it to me. What if I end up putting myself in danger because I don't know?" you ask.

Helion scoffs, "You weren't in any danger until you started looking for the truth. Which is fully my fault for not telling you what I know."

"Which is..." you trail off.

Hélions gestures for you to take a seat. You take the one across from him. The table in front of you is set for tea for you doubt the both of you will be touching those cups.

"It started just before she-Amarantha- took over. For a couple of nights I could hear you screaming in your sleep. Then came the drawings. Over and over the same image. An eye enclasped in a ring,

"When she took control, you started sleep walking. By then we were under the mountain already. Held in captivity."

"I don't remember any of that." you comment.

"You wouldn't. I took all of your memories from that time." he answers.

You look at him confused, "Why?"

"Because of Amarantha. She appeared one day in my cell with you bound in rope. Claiming that you were an unpredictable obstacle." he says.

"I don't understand. My powers aren't as powerful as yours. What made me threat in her eyes?" you ask.

Helion shakes his head, "To this day I don't now. We won't ever know since she's dead and your memories are gone. But I know that she was scared of you."

"So you wiped my mind so she couldn't find out?" you ask again.

"No, I wiped your mind because she asked me to. She knew exactly why she was scared of you. She came in that night, dragging your almost lifeless body into my cell."

"What?" you murmur.

"I had a choice, and I chose to take away whatever information she and by extension you, found out that night." he answers.

You launch out of your chair. Tears in your eyes. Because you understand what he's saying. But it also means something else. Something even scarier.

"And when you got free from under the mountain, you wiped it again. To make me forget the whole thing." you whisper.

Helion bows his head in shame. You let out a dry laugh.

"If she wanted to, she could have killed me. And you wouldn't have found out until you were free!" you shout.

He finally picks his head up. He calls out your name. But you can't quite tamper down the rage you feel inside of your chest. Your breathing ragged, you can't catch your breath.

"You're bright."

"What?"

"Look at your chest, it's glowing."

[blisss777]

PART 1

Anakin skywalker x best friend reader

Warnings:mentions of rape, pregnancy, violence, torture, sexual power play, reader kinda takes padme's place in this, but don't worry padme ends up with sabé. If I missed more let me know.

Part 2:here

As Anakin and padme lands the ship on tatooine, the search for his mother begins. Seeing his once slave owner watto, who gives directions to a house out a ways in the plain dessert. Where he surprisingly finds out he now has a step brother.

He is happily surprised to find his mother safe, but bed bound, the torture and abuse the Tusken Raiders bestowed upon her left her weak. But safe nonetheless and healing. "Oh ani, my son. You're so handsome." Shmi places kisses all over anakin's face as he smiles through tears at finally seeing his mother again, and free.

His mother suddenly stops and stares at anakin with a serious and worried look on her face. "Ani, y/n is still missing. The rescuers and your stepfather haven't been able to save her, I tried to get them to go back for her but they told me that it is too dangerous." She shakily whispers, her eyes watering at the thought of what she's going through as they speak.

"What?" Anakin gasps in shock, unaware that his childhood friend has been taken as well. A memory floods his head, of the time they said goodbye.

"You promise we'll see each other again, right ani. And you'll free us." Y/n sniffles as tears flow down her little chubby cheeks. Hugging anakin with a strength so surprising for a little eight year old. "I promise, I'll never forget you y/n. Never" little anakin promises in a confident voice, meaning his words with a striking intensity.

So anakin decides then and there that he is going to find her and free her, no matter what. He then sets out to find her, sneaking into the Tusken Raiders camp and using the force to find where she is being kept. Slicing open the back of the tent and walking in.

The sight before him causes a sharp pain of blame and sadness in his heart, he quickly yet gently unties her and softly places her down in his lap. Pushing the stray hairs out of her face, gazing down at her and fighting off the tears. "Ani?" She whispers out in pain and slight confusion.

Her face and body swollen and bruised, tears rolling down her cheeks just like before when anakin left tatooine. She looks just the same as before, just older and she's lost all her baby fat. But she's still his y/n. "It's me, I'm here. You're safe now." He rasps out in the same tone he did as a kid, promising he'd come back and free her.

"I missed you so much." Y/n smiles through the pain, grabbing his hand and squeezing as best as she could. He places a hand on her cheek in response, caressing her gently with his thumb. "I'm here now, I'm taking you home." She smiles as she gazes up at him.

"Ani." She repeats before her eyes fluttered closed, her head lolling back as her grip on his hand loosens. "No, no y/n. Stay with me. Please." Anakin voice wavers as he tries to shake her awake. But nothing, no response.

Anguish and seething anger fills his veins, as he lifts his head to stare daggers. He softly lays her flat on the ground as he leaves the tent, igniting his saber and cutting down two guard Tusken Raiders. The other's stopping in shock before approaching him angry that he's killed one of their people. Anakin gets in fighting stance and readys his saber. The blue glow casting a beautiful light on his face.

After successfully killing all the Tusken Raiders in a blinding hate, he enters the tent where y/n still remains. Leaning down to pick her up but stopping short, how could he have not felt this before. She's alive but barely, something is keeping her alive. A familiar thing he sensed, Midi-chlorians. It surrounds her in waves.

He narrowed his Eyes and let's the force guide him, his Eyes widened in shock. Thinking that this couldn't be true, it just couldn't. He picks her up and jumps on his speeder bike with her in his arms. Speeding back to his stepfather's house.

They all rush out seeing the girl limp in his arms. "She's hurt, badly but she's still alive." They all stare in shock, wondering how this girl survived. Covered in horrible bruises. Rushing her inside They get a medical droid to help her, the droid works in silence as it tends to her wounds before wrapping them.

"Her and the child will survive, it is healthy." The droid hums out before leaving anakin, padme and his stepfather in the room with her. "She's pregnant." Cliegg asks in shock as he looks to anakin with widened eyes.

"I sensed it, I wasn't entirely sure." Anakin says as he sits in a chair besides her as she lays still on the bed. Not once looking away from her, her breathing slow yet rhythmic. "Who is the father?" Padme ask as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Maybe we could ask watto he has to know something, right." She places a hand on anakin's shoulder, hoping to comfort him.

"You're right." Is all he says as he stands and leaves the room, both him and padme finding there way back to watto. Finding him with a client, when watto spots them he waves his hand at the client shooing him away. "Well, well, what you miss me that much little ani. Or should I say big ehh." Watto cackles at his own bad joke, but anakin isn't laughing.

"What, it wasn't funny eh?, tough crowd." He shrugs as he flys over to anakin, padme by his side. "She's pregnant." He suddenly sneers out. Unable to hold back his anger anymore. "Who?" Watto confusedly scratches his head, making anakin even more angry. "Y/n, She's pregnant. And I wanna know who's the father." His voice is stern and serious.

"Oh my little servant is alive ehh, thought for sure those nasty Tuskens would've killed her by now. Well it seems I'm in luck, I won't have to buy another one." He rasps in his grating voice, laughing like this is extremely funny to him. Anakin's about to storm towards him, raising his arm to force choke him before padme holds him back. "Ani you mustn't, we have to find out who the father is."

He realises padme is right, if he kills him now he'll never get the answers to his questions. So he reluctantly lowers his arm, still glaring at watto. "Why is it so important ehh, what you wanna give the man a congratulatory handshake." Watto questions and raises a non-existence eyebrow.

"Tell me now!" Anakin sneers, so over his blabbering of nonsense. "Jeez alright ehh, no need to get mad." Watto sighs out. "This zebrak fellow comes through here from time to time, we met over gambling. He was looking for a little action ehh, I decided to offer my little servant to him for a hefty price. One I didn't think he would take." Watto explains animatedly waving his arms around.

"Turns out people are really desperate these days huh." He chuckles and wiggles his non-existence eyebrows, hoping anakin would join in on the joke. Which he doesn't of course. "You what?" Anakin is livid now, but luckily padme still has a grip on his bicep. "Ani he's not worth it, C'mon y/n needs you." Padme pleads with Anakin, dragging him back.

"You heard him padme, he doesn't deserve to live a happy life after what he's done to her. What he put her through!" He shouts back, disgust and guilt filling him. Cursing at himself in his head, thinking that if he came back for her earlier none of this wouldn't have happened.

"Ani look at me, we need to go back now. She's awake." Padme shows him the holo message from his stepbrother, letting him know that y/n is finally awake now. And hopefully ready to talk about this zebrak and tell him who he is.

Anakin nods and sends one last death glare at watto, before turning and leaving. Watto feels a shiver go down his spine, he was sure the boy was going to kill him or worse. Anakin and padme speeds back to the house, rushing into the room y/n is kept in. And seeing her sitting and talking to his mother, both of them holding hands in conversation before turning and seeing Anakin and padme in the doorway.

"Ani." She smiles as tears immediately fills her eyes, shmi watching their interaction with a look of contentment at them finally being reunited. "Y/n." Anakin rushed towards her, sitting on the bed on her left and gripping one of her hands in his. Looking at her in disbelief that she's alright.

"Can we be alone." Anakin looks at his mom then to padme, both of them nodding and leaving. He turns back and stares intensely into y/n's eyes. "Did they tell you?" He questioned curiously, gently squeezing her hand. "Yes, shmi has told me." She looks down in shame and embarrassment, the tears have already stained her cheeks.

"Hey, look at me." He gently grips her chin between his thumb and forefinger, raising her head to look him in the eyes. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." He rasps in a caring and soft tone, meaning every word.

She nodded her head at his words, tears rolled down her cheeks as she gazes at him with her doe eyes. "Whenever your ready, can you tell me who the father is?" She shallows and realised how dry her throat is, looking to the side and biting her lip. Letting out a breath, wanting to say nothing but knowing that she couldn't, she could never keep anything from her best friend.

She leans in and anakin does the same, when she's besides his ear she whisper something that both shocks and surprises anakin. "Are you sure." He asked in a serious tone, narrowing his Eyes. "Yes, I am ani. I'm sure." She confidently confirms, he senses fear in her.

"You're afraid, why?" She grabs anakin's hands in both of hers, trying to ground herself. "He threatened me not to tell anyone, and if I even thought about doing so or if I did, he would kill anyone I love and care for." Her hands are shaking now, and anakin feels it. He grips her hands and holds them to his chest.

"I won't let anything happen to you, I promise you this." He reaches a hand up and caresses her cheek, she throws her arms around his neck and sobs into it. Anakin pulls her tighter against him, wrapping his arms around her as her heart breaking sobs reach his ears.

And he knows that no matter what, he will protect her, he will kill for her. He will kill anyone her dares lay a hand on her. Anyone who dares make her cry, even just a little bit. "Never again, I'll never leave you alone again." He whispered in a adoring tone, yet something else is there, something sinister. Something dark.

Notes:wow that was a roller-coaster of emotions huh, also I'm thinking of making part two because it definitely doesn't end here. There is more to the story then I thought up, but I'll see if anyone likes this one first lol 😅

[helreginn]

withinkandquill:

Cardan parts from her as if her words singe his skin - before his fingers can tighten around her jaw, before hurt and anger turn him into someone violent and dangerous. Already he can familiar the familiar impulse winding down the muscles of his arms, itching for that comforting sensation of power and control. “None of that suggests a bloodbath!” Once gentle fingers form fists at his sides. A newly-poured goblet of wine sits nearby, prepared by a trembling servant who had hurried away again as quickly as she had come. Cardan’s temper was legendary; his cruelty the spectacle by which he was best known. But despite his reputation, he takes his anger out on neither goddess nor servant. Instead, he reaches for the nearest item - the goblet - and hurls it at the furthest wall. Dark wine drips down the it like spilled blood. Cardan barely remembers that night, hiding beneath the feasting table as he watched his family fall one-by-one. Dain. Elowyn. Rhyia. Caelia. His father. All gone in one night. He barely remembers the weight of the crown as young Oak - secretly of Greenbriar blood, it seemed - placed it atop his head. It was supposed to be a party and Cardan had spent it as he spends them all and as he has spent many more nights since - drunk beyond recollection. He needs no memories of the massacre to drive him to drink, though. Perhaps he should feel something for his murdered family but he does not. Cardan has little love for his family and so little is lost. What is lost, what he grieves the most, is freedom. That came from being an uncrowned, unwanted prince, sixth of a set of eligible and eager heirs, free to enjoy the lavish lifestyle of royalty without the responsibility of a kingdom. And now…now that this truth had reached his ear…Cardan has yet another reason to drink. Hel. His unwitting, unwanted bride. And rather unexpectedly, the only person he ever began to believe truly cared for him. Turning on heel, Cardan approaches again. Long strides make short work of the space between them. Hands find her shoulders, palms pushing her back until his body cages hers against the wall only a few steps behind. His touch is less gentle now. “You yourself told me you were not bound as we are to faerie bargains,” he hisses. The lines of his jaw harden, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows past the lump that has formed in his throat. “You could have told me and if your motives were as you say, you would have.” His eyes search her as he speaks - cold and daring with anger, glistening with something he doesn’t let show in other aspect of himself. “He was going to kill me too, Hel. Or did you not realize that all of us meant all of us? Did you think me so forgotten that he might even forget to spill my blood? Or was this your way out of this…let us all die and then you are free, aren’t you? Did Balekin promise you this? Have you worked alongside him this whole time?” @withinkandquill

Hel winces at the scream and then again at the glass thrown against the wall. His rage is palpable. And she can't blame him. Would never. Was it not he that weathered this very same rage and sorrow on their wedding night? The misplaced grief and hurt at having lost her family? No. She stands in silence. Hand braced against her ribs as if it could stop her heart breaking. Watchful. Apologetic.

Useless.

She feels the cold wall against her back but it is not half as cold as the anguish in his accusatory glare as he just barely holds himself back. Her teeth ever-so-slightly chatter together behind her closed lips. Hel has not once been afraid of Cardan. Not one time. Until this time. And that's worse. Hel is no stranger to fear. She is apathetic in the face of it. Fear is just alertedness, readying for the storm.

But Hel has never known love before. And she has never lost it either. Never watched it die in real time.

She wants to speak on her behalf. Needs to. But she is so guilt ridden, a larger part of her would prefer if he just..

But that too is not fair on him.

"I am not beholden to fairy deals." She replies, "But you surely can see..." That I am not free either? She wants to tell him. Tell him that it is the same magic writ on their marriage contract. But she can't. She wants to tell him even what to ask, to see that she cannot answer. But even that.. cannot be spoken.

She dare not look away. Not once drags her eyes from his. But she gestures widely to the side below his elbow, "I wasn't even there! I am not still. You had to seek me out here, where I have been and will remain until..." Until you are gone. And then we both must go to the dark place.

The breath leaves her lungs and with it, all the fight she had. Her shoulders slump in his arms.

All she has wanted to say in all these months.. To talk of her family. Her brothers and mothers and father. Even the shape of their names could not parse her tongue. They were her whole world before she came and he had never once heard her utter the sounds.

He would feel the rigor of her shoulders as she just barely contains her own sobs.

She loves them. She misses them. She wants to talk about them every single day. To tell Cardan how the happy whip of his tail they both pretend not to see when he is bare - or at least shirtless - beside her reminds her of home. Tell him how her mothers are ferocious and wild and if they could leave - if they could go to her home, he would know the love of maternal instinct. She was sure of it.

"Think of me as you will, Cardan. Call me a betrayer if it helps. Abandon me for her if that will ease your heart. Do what you must. I will forgive it all. I want your happiness, even if I am not included in that." She sniffs and all that she longs to say is right there, staring back in his night dark eyes, "But do not for one second fool yourself into believing I wanted you to be hurt. I.. I.."

I love you. That one she can say. Could say. But cowardice is perhaps more compelling than even the magic of a godspell.

[taroet]

✦   ARCANA INTERACTIONS 101 ✦ ⸺ so you're dealing with an arcana. here's what to keep in mind:

if you're interacting with any of my arcana muses, your character will feel their influence— whether they want to or not. these aren't just powerful people. they're primordial forces bound to concepts older than language, and reality bends a little when they’re around. what will that feel like for your muse, you may ask? good question! keep reading— each arcana leaves a different mark, and the effects they have on the world ( and your muse ) are as unique as the forces they embody.

⤷ reia — the empress : you feel safe. like you could set down every burden you’re carrying and someone would actually help hold it. her presence fosters healing— emotional, physical, even spiritual. people open up around her. wounds soften. hope grows. creativity flows like spring water. even the air seems gentler.

but stay too long, and you might forget how to stand on your own. her love is vast, and sometimes suffocating. you may feel the urge to defer, to let her make decisions, to stop questioning. independence frays under the weight of her care. what began as comfort might start to feel like gilded control.

she builds sanctuaries. whether or not you leave them is up to you.

⤷ bastian — the magician : when he’s near, everything feels possible. walls thin, rules bend. ideas spark like flint. you feel clever, capable— like the world might finally start listening to you. he brings tools, opportunities, doors that shouldn’t exist but suddenly do. reality reshapes itself if you know how to ask.

but nothing he offers is free. his magic enchants, in every sense of the word. you might start doubting what’s real— was it your idea or his? the truth twists softly under his hand. he doesn’t always lie. he just lets you believe what you want until it’s too late to want anything else.

he gives you the stage. just don’t forget who’s pulling the curtain.

⤷ rhyder — the fool : everything feels lighter when rhyder’s around. like gravity forgot to hold you down. he brings spontaneity like a storm front— wild, electric, and impossible to ignore. with him, you laugh louder, run faster, leap before you look. the world opens up, not with a map, but with a dare.

he whispers freedom in your ear. you start to believe in chance again— in magic doors and ridiculous hope. you might kiss a stranger, dodge fate, or stumble right into the best mistake of your life. but luck is fickle. and so is he. rhyder doesn’t promise safety, only movement.

if you follow him too far, don’t be surprised when the ground vanishes beneath your feet.

⤷ theodore — the damned lovers : with him around, love hits harder. your pulse quickens. that old crush? suddenly unbearable. that situationship? a full-blown opera. theodore’s presence deepens every thread of connection— sweet, sharp, or star-crossed. he makes you remember how it felt the first time someone looked at you like you mattered.

he rekindles what was fading, sets fire to what was dim. words fall easier. touch lingers longer. your heart remembers what it wants. but when he falters, so do you. love twists. affection burns. what was once devotion becomes need— hot, hollow, hungry. he can make you crave someone until it breaks you. under his influence, you might forget where they end and you begin.

theodore doesn’t mean to destroy what he loves. but sometimes, love just isn't enough to save it.

⤷ kore — the devil : when kore enters a room, everything tastes sweeter. the rules loosen. the air gets heavier. you start to wonder why you ever denied yourself in the first place. she doesn’t tempt you— she gives you permission. to want. to take. to feel alive without apology.

in her presence, shame burns away. desires bloom like wildfire. you laugh louder, move freer, dare things you never would. for a moment, it’s bliss. until it isn’t. because kore doesn’t chain you— you do. her magic opens every door you were too afraid to touch, and some should stay locked.

by the time you notice the leash, you’re the one holding it… and smiling.

⤷ aelius — the sun : when he’s near, you remember what joy feels like. light floods in. you breathe easier. wounds — both seen and unseen — begin to heal. his presence burns away doubt, filling the space with warmth, brilliance, and a kind of clarity that makes everything seem possible. you feel like your best self. you shine.

but even the sun scorches. his brilliance can be too much, especially if you’ve grown used to the dark. around him, it’s easy to chase brightness until you forget how to rest. to give too much. to believe you’re only worthy when you're glowing. he doesn’t mean to take— it’s just what happens when everything orbits you.

stand close to him, and you’ll bloom. stay too long, and you may forget how to grow on your own.

⤷ cathal — strength : when cathal is near, you remember what it feels like to stand tall. to square your shoulders and endure. his presence is a quiet fire— not blinding, but steady, relentless. he lends you spine when yours falters. with him, fear feels smaller. obstacles feel like invitations. you start to believe that nothing can break you.

but that fire cuts both ways. his strength becomes your expectation. you push harder. you fall quietly. you keep going when you shouldn’t. around him, pain looks like weakness, and weakness becomes something to hide. you smile through the ache and call it resilience.

he teaches survival. but he doesn’t always teach rest.

⤷ justice — justice : she does not blink. she does not bend. in her presence, the noise falls away— what’s left is the truth, unvarnished and inescapable. justice sees through excuses, illusions, and sentiment. you’ll find yourself confessing things you didn’t know weighed you down. her gaze demands honesty— not just with her, but with yourself.

she steadies the scale. she offers a path to redemption, but only if you walk it with clean hands. around her, guilt rises like smoke. secrets itch. she makes people better— but only by making them see. but beware: mercy is not always part of her design. for those clinging to self-delusion or begging for softness, her clarity can cut too deep.

if you ask her to look away, she never will.

⤷ tala — the twin stars : when tala is near, the path ahead seems clearer— maybe even meant. her presence settles the soul, like you’ve just remembered something ancient and important. you might find yourself dreaming more vividly, noticing patterns, trusting that things are unfolding as they should. she aligns people with their purpose— gently, insistently.

but destiny is a heavy thing. under tala’s light, choice can feel like an illusion. you may wonder if your steps are truly yours, or just part of a design you were never meant to escape. some find peace in that. others feel the walls of fate closing in.

she offers you the stars— but you might forget how to steer by anything else.

the arcana bleed. their presence alters things, even when they try to keep their magic in check. here’s what else to know when you enter their orbit:

⤑ they’re not just people. even the most “human” among them are not regular mortals. they’re living archetypes, ancient forces given form. talking to them is like having a conversation with fire, fortune, memory, or desire— and expecting it to play nice. you’re not just dealing with a person— you’re dealing with a concept wearing a face.

⤑ reality bends around them. their presence distorts the world. lights flicker. time stutters. emotions spike. luck twists. that déjà vu you feel? the sudden thunder? the impossible coincidence? yeah. that’s them. it’s not always obvious— but the world around them isn’t neutral. you don’t have to play it constantly, but feel free to lean into environmental weirdness when writing with them!

⤑ they carry centuries in their bones. arcana aren’t new. even if they’ve been trapped, they’ve watched empires rise and fall, made enemies, lost lovers, started wars. some — like kore or bastian — have left entire civilizations in ruins. your muse might recognize them from half-remembered myths, ancient bloodlines, or dreams passed down like inheritance. awe is earned. familiarity is possible.

⤑ they’re not omniscient— just close. the arcana don’t know everything, but they move like they’ve already seen the ending. they speak in riddles, metaphors, half-truths that feel like prophecy. it’s not just drama— they experience reality sideways. symbol-first. logic-second. and no, they don’t always agree on what’s “right.”

⤑ tone shifts are part of the deal. an arcana thread might start soft and spiral into myth. or crash from tragedy into laughter. they live at emotional extremes: joy, chaos, longing, horror. don’t expect consistency. do expect intensity.

⤑ consent > everything. your muse is always yours. i won’t godmod. i won’t override. whatever happens — resistance, devotion, collapse — it’s a choice. intensity is flexible. plotting is welcome. chaos is always consensual.

anyway, that’s it! flirt with fate at your own risk. ✨

[xxbyimm]

Anima Nera - Severus Snape x OC - Chapter 3 - The Preamble

New to Sev's journey? Chapter 1.

Anima Nera - Severus Snape x OC - Chapter 3 - The Preamble

Summary: Suzy's first day as a Professor is coming up, and she's nervous about her new role. And wait... is that Amos Warrington?

Warnings: Some cursing, I guess.

Author’s note: I've been studying Sev's character extensively; I hope I'll do him justice. Enjoy 🥰🥰.

‘The scariest moment is always just before you start.’

-Tanmay Vora

September, 1990

As it turned out, consulting the former History of Magic teacher had been a waste of time. While Suzy had patiently waited for Professor Binns’ return, Hel's endurance—or patience—had evaporated in a minute or two: the little dragon had felt more than ready to explore her new surroundings, which her stupid human strictly forbade her to do. ‘Good manners go a long way, Helena,’ Suzy had told her draconic friend. ‘Professor Binns will return in no time, you’ll see.’

Another ten minutes passed by, in which Professor Binns still did not show and Hel became unmanagable. They had inspected the classroom thrice, circling the filing cabinet that stood in a small alclove in the back of the classroom and wondering what kind of secrets it was hiding. ‘Fine,’ Suzy finally murmured, setting Hel free. ‘We’re taking matters in our own hands.’

Their inquisitiveness turned out to be successful, for they retrieved a stack of papers that looked promising. Suzy—feeling a bit guilty—tried to ask her predecessor’s permission to take the loot they had found, knocking thrice on the door of his private quarters, but to no avail. Defeated, Suzy bade the empty classroom farewell and left for her own quarters. It seemed she was going to have to rely on herself for this.

And that was what she did. In the next two weeks, Suzy had dedicated herself to the task completely: she spent most of her days planning and preparing in her classroom, often forgetting to eat; it was a good thing that Hogwarts came with dozens of attentive house-elves and a few kind colleagues who had checked in on her. The lesson plans for the fifth and seventh year students had been fairly easy to complete, for the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. program papers she had snatched from the filing cabinet—it was scandalous enough she had to resort to snooping through a colleague’s possessions, but what was a girl to do?—had granted Suzy a good sense of what was expected of her students. The other classes, however, had been more of a challenge; Suzy had no idea how to motivate a bunch of unruly teenagers. She had asked her new colleagues about their strategies, finding the answers to be as diverse as their personalities. Some of them, like Professor Kettleburn and Professor Sprout— ‘call me Pomona, dear’ —were so passionate about the subject they taught that it was bound to rub off on most of their students; a natural consequence of having a gifted mentor. Others, like Madame Hooch and Professor McGonagall, weren’t as exuberant—their love for their work was to be found in the serious, strict manner they taught their subject. Lastly, the likes of Professor Binns and Professor Trelawney were simply too engrossed in their own worlds to worry about the classes that needed to be taught—somehow an approach as theirs was sufficient enough, albeit it wasn’t as productive as others. Though there was no right way to teach, Suzy kind of wished there was. She had no idea where to start, or how to develop her own style—a creed uttered by most of her colleagues.

Suzy heaved a weary sigh and turned to her other side—her usually comfortable beddings suffocating her. The world outside her quarters was dark and quiet, the rest of the staff vast asleep in their beds; yet Suzy’s thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. The first term was to start today, which meant hundreds of students were going to arrive at Hogwarts. What if she sucked at teaching, if she failed to connect to her students? What if Hel—or Suzy herself—brought anyone in danger? And Amos, it had been ages since she had seen him… What if he hated her guts? And what if he didn’t? And Severus… What if she and her big mouth had crossed a line, what if he truly despised her? Or worse, what if he remembered the night they had shared together—no, she shouldn’t think about him . She had better things to do, she still had to check the sixth year’s exam questions she had planned for the last term—

Ugh! Suzy groaned before settling her attention on Hel—the little dragon vast asleep. Hel purred—probably dreaming of catching herself a juicy bug of some sort—and despite everything, Suzy smiled. At least someone was getting their well deserved rest.

A small shiver went through her foot and up her leg. Suzy sat up and patiently rubbed the sting that followed away. After the worst had passed, she threw the covers aside and rose from the bed. Once again, sleep was overrated; her body was reacting to the mental strain she had put herself under. It probably was for the best to wake Hel for a stroll through the castle before anything happened. Suzy waddled through the darkened room—picking up her black silk dressing gown with burgundy dragons sewn upon it from a chair—and roamed through her drawer in search of a fresh pair of socks.

After she had assembled herself together—wearing a silk tank top and shorts in a blush color as pajamas, her favorite black dressing gown and her dark gray loafers—Suzy recovered her wand from its usual hiding place and cast a Lumos charm against the ceiling. Hel hissed at the sudden burst of light in her face, covering her snout with her blanket.

‘Goodmorning my lady,’ Suzy greeted her small companion. ‘I know it’s early, but I can’t sleep, so I’m going to take a walk through the castle.’ Hel growled, disappearing under her blanket; she even withdrew her tail, which meant she was very dissatisfied with her current circumstances. ‘You can stay in if you like,’ Suzy offered, though they both knew Hel had severe abandonment issues—whenever Suzy tried to leave her alone for a few minutes, the little dragon would start screeching on the top of her lungs—only stopping when her human returned; the true delight during bathroom breaks. ‘But we both know what happens if you do,’ Suzy added. ‘I’m sure we’ll find you a midnight snack, okay?’

Despite the fact that Suzy had heard Severus Snape leave and enter his quarters multiple times a day, they hadn’t seen more than glimpses of each other since their last discussion—and the stalemate that had followed. Severus probably desired some form of an apology and that was precisely what Suzy refused to give him; he was going to have to offer her an apology of his own if he ever wished to hear her do the same.

But tonight, the door of his domain was firmly shut; the quarters behind it quiet, allowing Suzy to pass them with a certain sense of relief. Surely Professor Dark and Broody was resting in his bed at this ungodly hour, like a—relatively—normal human being.

‘Do you think he sleeps upside down?’ Suzy asked Hel as they climbed the stairs together. ‘Since he’s an awful bat and all.’ Hel didn’t deign her with a reply, probably fed up with her human reverting to the uninteresting topic of Severus Snape all the time. There was no need to discuss his characteristics any further than they already had, but Suzy somehow never got bored thinking or talking about her nemesis.

Aside from the occasional squeak from Hel when she discovered a potential snack, the pair wandered through the castle in silence and made it to the clocktower courtyard. Suzy sat down at the antique well and admired the eagle statues in the graceful light of the moon. The temperature was pleasant out here, the light breeze of wind playing with her curls and contrasting wonderfully with the cool stone she was sitting on. Comfortably hiding behind her human's curls, Hel purred, equally satisfied with their final destination. ‘Do you fancy a mosquito?’ Suzy whispered as she spotted an army of the nasty insects swarming on the other side of the courtyard. ‘There’s plenty of them.’

Hel squeaked, all drowsiness gone at the mention of another snack, and took off faster than Suzy could say ‘You’re welcome’ . Suzy heaved a sigh and settled in her seat. Hel thoroughly enjoyed terrorizing bugs, so it was likely this was going to take awhile. If anything, Suzy was grateful for the distraction: watching her draconic companion nosediving through the swarm of bugs like a mad dragon was always a treat.

‘Ah, Professor Brown. Still up?’ Suzy’s stomach flipped at the low, seemingly bored tone and she turned in her seat. ‘Merlin’s beard!’ she exclaimed, covering her chest with her hand. ‘Must you keep creeping up on me?!’ Severus Snape towered over her, clad in his usual attire and watching her with a cold gleam in his dark eyes. ‘Charming as always, I see.’ ‘You were the one who gave me a fright,’ Suzy countered, crossing her arms in front of her chest—suddenly aware of her own flimsy nightwear. ‘How do you do that?’ Snape seemed unfazed by her demeanor. ‘Not everyone’s nature is as loud as yours, Professor Brown,’ he remarked. Suzy narrowed her eyes. ‘While I agree that gracious might not be my middle name, that was not the question. How do you do it?’ ‘Let's just focus on the fact that we finally seem to agree on something, shall we?’ he proposed, watching Hel decimate the mosquito population of the clocktower courtyard. ‘Because I fear explaining the concept of subtlety to the likes of you is a fruitless endeavor.’ ‘The likes of me…’ Suzy repeated, tasting the weight of the words on her tongue. ‘Does that mean you’ve conducted an analysis of your own? Humor me; what’s the verdict on my character?’ ‘Not so hasty, Professor Brown,’ Snape argued. ‘An analysis was wholly unnecessary; you’re not that complex or mysterious.’ Suzy couldn’t help herself and laughed at the statement, the sound of her amusement echoing through the empty courtyard. ‘I’ve never had any complaints about lacking any of these characteristics,’ she mused. ‘Or really sought to achieve them anyway. Tell me, Professor Snape—what’s your definition of complex, or mysterious?’ ‘You ought to know that,’ he stated, his lips curling into a cold, demeaning smile. ‘Don’t they teach you that in first grade?!’ ‘I know what—’

Hel flew over their heads, uttering a loud growl and soaring towards the other side of the courtyard—another civilisation of mosquitos in sight. The Professors—overcome by Helena's theatrics or just grateful for the distraction—watched Suzy’s small companion in silence.

‘Are you prepared for the first semester?’ Severus finally inquired, his tone formal. ‘I think so,’ Suzy replied. ‘Though I had to start fresh. I asked Professor Binns to share his lesson plans with me, but to no avail.’ ‘That’s probably for the best,’ Snape noted. ‘Though you might want to return the files you borrowed; I heard Professor Binns is still in search of them.’ Suzy bit on her lip, trying her best to hide a sly grin. ‘Files? I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ ‘Naturally,’ he agreed in a sarcastic tone. ‘I wouldn’t dare to accuse you of such crimes.’ ‘What have you been up to?’ Suzy asked as she inspected her fingernails, eager to change the subject. ‘Aside from concocting broody plans to take over the world with your army of bats, of course.’ A wry chuckle escaped him. ‘Has anyone told you you are absurd, Susannah?’

Upon hearing her given name rolling over his tongue—in that leisure, seemingly bored tone—Suzy looked up at his handsome features: dark eyes that she could easily drown in, the characteristic nose and the firm line of his mouth. Had she missed their mutual agreement to move to a first name basis or did Hogwarts have a secret social code she hadn’t been aware of?! Another possibility was that Severus simply had slipped up, but considering his composed demeanor that didn’t make sense. Whatever the reason, she had to admit they had insulted each other enough to use their respective first names as they resumed their verbal fencing match.

‘Absurd?’ Suzy repeated, rising to her feet and tilting her chin, looking her colleague in the eye with a sweet smile. ‘Not directly in my face, Severus,’ she quipped. ‘Why?’ ‘Let me be the first, then.’ He said decisively. ‘While your imagination is admirable, the things that come out of your mouth are preposterous at best.’ ‘Truly?’ she mused, rubbing her thumb and index finger over her chin. ‘Was that a compliment from our very own Potion’s Master?’ Severus remained perfectly calm, watching her in that stoical manner of his. ‘I fear you will take it as such,’ he said. ‘Whether I wish you to do so or not.’ Her smile widened into a grin. ‘Certainly. You see, I’ve stopped trying to please people that don’t like me. These days, I simply embrace the joy of being the most annoying person they’ve ever met.’ ‘Ah, so you share this brilliant philosophy with Peeves,’ Snape concluded. ‘He’ll be relieved to hear it.’ Suzy laughed at the notion. ‘Is that sorry excuse of a ghoul still around?’ ‘He’s a ghost cursed to roam these halls forever, Professor Brown,’ Severus said, sounding slightly vexed now. ‘Of course he’s still here.’ ‘I’ll send him to trash your office sometime, then,’ Suzy promised before whistling at Hel. ‘Helena!’ She called for her pet in a firm tone. ‘Come on! Professor Snape still has to attend to his bat friends. How is he going to take over the world when his nocturnal friends are too hungry to do his bidding?’

Hel—who had been just chasing a huge moth—glanced longingly at the insect before turning away. Suzy held out her arm for her draconic friend, but Hel gracefully landed on Severus’ shoulder instead. Suzy eyed both of them—Hel proud of her antics, Severus seemingly indifferent, but probably making up his mind about this recent development. ‘She seems to like you,’ Suzy concluded, raising a brow. ‘Though I have yet to understand why.’ ‘Hello Helena,’ Severus greeted the dragon, ignoring Suzy’s jest. ‘Please tell me you’re more pleasant company than the human you’ve brought with you.’ Hel chirped at that—a sound she only made when she was utterly content with herself. She watched Severus with interest as she balanced herself upon his shoulder, her golden eyes gleaming. ‘Helena of Troy!’ Suzy insisted, planting her hands in her sides.

Usually this did the trick, but today Hel had no intention of leaving her new acquaintance. Snape eyed the pair, his lips pursing slightly. Then, he flicked his wand with a dramatic wave, creating a small orb of light, and strode away, leaving Suzy to stand alone in the courtyard.

‘Hey!’ She called as she hurried after him, clutching the front of her dressing gown firmly in her fist, her loafers stomping on the slab stones. ‘Where do you think you’re going?!’ ‘Escorting you two back to your quarters,’ Severus told her. ‘Since I don’t have a choice.’ Hel purred at that, wholeheartedly agreeing with at least half of it. ‘You are insufferable, do you know that?’ Suzy grumbled. ‘Can you possibly slow down—’ ‘Well, I find you too much to bear, so that’s yet another thing we agree on,’ he cut her off. ‘So much common ground tonight here, this must be my lucky day.’ ‘Already?’ She scoffed. ‘And the students have yet to arrive.’ ‘Ah, yes, the first day of term,’ he established as he slowed his pace. ‘Any conclusive theories on how you’ll tame a dozen unruly kids?’ ‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘But I’ll come up with something. How do you do it, Professor?’ Severus eyed her with an unreadable expression, the distant light of his wand transforming the color of his eyes into an impossible shade of black. ‘I make sure I haunt them in their dreams,’ he then said dryly. ‘Or I send my army of bats instead.’ Suzy rolled her eyes. ‘Now who’s absurd?!’ ‘You were first to imply these absurdities, Professor.’ She shrugged. ‘True, but—’ ‘Don’t throw insults when you can’t handle getting them handed back to you.’

They were interrupted by a trashing sound that came from the higher levels in the Ravenclaw tower, followed by maniacal laughter. Hel perked up her ears and tail, growling softly. ‘Peeves,’ Severus established, his voice coated with contempt. ‘I don’t wish to know what he’s up to now.’ ‘Me neither,’ Suzy said as she quickened her step. ‘Last time I saw that devil, he laughed because I had and I quote: “a funny face” .’ ‘Peeves isn’t known for his creativity or his intelligence,’ Severus replied. ‘Just call him boring, it drives him mad. He’ll be a pain for a few days, but if you stick to it long enough, he’ll be out of your way.’

They exited the Ravenclaw tower and passed the stone bridge that led to the dungeon’s staircase. Though they spoke no more, the silence that hung between them wasn’t uncomfortable; it felt more of a temporary agreement to cease their verbal fire. For now.

‘I bid you goodnight, Professor Brown,’ Severus said once they arrived at the door to both their private quarters. ‘Helena, if you please.’ Helena sniffed at his jaw—a telltale sign of her growing affection, though Suzy wasn’t going to inform Severus about that—and squeaked, before she obliged and took her place at her human’s shoulder. Severus nodded curtly and turned away to the stairs once more.

Wait, no—it was four in the morning. Everyone was in bed. What was Severus Snape possibly going to do at this hour? Didn’t he need his rest?!

‘Don’t you need to sleep?’ Suzy blurted out as she watched him ascend the stairs. ‘No,’ Severus replied without looking back. ‘Like you gracefully explained to your dragon, Professor Brown—I still have to attend to my bat friends. Taking over the world requires consistent labor.’

The Great Hall was as magical and spacious as Suzy remembered; though five long, wooden tables dominated most of the space—one for each house and one for the staff—the grandeur of the Great Hall’s high ceilings and large stained glass windows still went unrivaled. Surprisingly enough, Hogwarts staff barely used the Great Hall during summer’s breaks; Professor McGonnagall had explained to Suzy that without its’ students, the Great Hall simply felt too grand for the few staff members who stayed over during the summer.

Today was different—the students were to arrive in a few hours and it was the headmaster’s explicit wish to assemble the staff for lunch and enjoy their last moments of peace and quiet together. Before everything went to hel(l), apparently.

Suzy made her way to the staff’s platform on the far end of the Great Hall, where most of her colleagues had already gathered—some already in their seats, others still standing and talking. It was strange how one offer could change her life so drastically; never in a million years had she foreseen having a place here amongst the staff of Hogwarts, but here she was…

‘Suzy!’ Rubeus called for her, his dark eyes gleaming with joy. ‘There you are!’ Hel—who had been sitting on Suzy’s head, despite clear instructions not to do so—screeched on the top of her lungs and flew towards Suzy’s friend, landing snout first against his chest. Hagrid chuckled and awarded the little dragon by tickling her neck. ‘Hey, Rubeus!’ Suzy greeted him after mouthing a heart-felt ‘sorry ’ to a few colleagues that had been startled by her draconic pet. ‘I’m sorry about this insufferable demon, she still has a lot to learn.’ ‘Don’t listen to her,’ Hagrid told Hel in a soft, soothing tone that didn’t match with his burly appearance. ‘You are a very well-behaved young lady and I’m very proud that you recognized your uncle amongst all these people.’ Suzy didn’t have the heart to tell him that finding a half-giant amongst two dozen of human staff members wasn’t much of a feat, because both Hagrid and Hel seemed very proud of the achievement.

‘Uncle?’ Suzy inquired instead. ‘I didn’t know Hel had one.’ ‘Well, she does,’ her friend said, eyeing her with a stern glare. ‘We’re practically family, Suzy.’ Hel purred loudly against Hagrid’s chest, probably unaware of the specific topic, but agreeing with him wholeheartedly. Suzy laughed and shook her head. ‘Why do I have the feeling that you two are going to conspire against me sometime?’

‘Susannah Brown!’ A light-hearted voice behind them cheered, making her raise her eyes to the heavens. ‘It can’t be! Is that truly your magnificent ass I spy?!’ Suzy shared a glance with Hagrid before whirling around to face her first boyfriend. It was true that her black chinos, which she had paired today with a teal blouse, fitted her well—giving her that instant confidence boost—but well-mannered people wouldn’t actually mention it. Except, it seemed….

‘Hello, Amos,’ Suzy greeted the tall, dark blond haired wizard that strode her way. To most, Amos was the epitome of attractive; baby blue eyes, a strong Roman nose, full lips and an athletic build. He knew that he was conventionally handsome and carried himself as such; a characteristic that was both admirable and aggravating. During their time at Hogwarts, Amos had always been a brilliant student; though his opportunistic tendencies tended to get him in trouble more than he’d like to admit.

‘It’s been so long, Suze!’ Amos said as he pulled her into a hug. ‘When was the last time we spoke? One year ago? Or was it two?’ ‘I think it was just one,’ Suzy told him with a smile as she patted his back. ‘But before we continue,’ she went on in a hushed tone. ‘May I ask you to leave my nether regions out of further conversations? We’re at work.’ Amos chuckled and let her go, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Of course, Professor Brown. I wouldn’t dare to cross you on my very first day here, but you look good. Ah, Professor Flitwick,’ he greeted the Charm’s Professor that appeared at Suzy’s side. ‘It’s good to see you again!’ ‘As it is to see you, Amos,’ Professor Flitwick replied. ‘If you have time, you have to tell me how you used the Rictusempra Charm on those hippogriff poachers. Madam Rosmerta told me the amusing tale, but I would like to hear it from its original source.’ Amos chuckled and Suzy—having heard the story multiple times—kindly bowed out of the conversation, making her way towards the table and settling herself in the vacant seat on Hagrid and Hel’s left. ‘So the ex-boyfriend is back, huh?’ Hagrid asked with a wide grin. ‘He’s a handsome lad, but I don’t have to tell you that.’ ‘Oh, please,’ Suzy huffed. ‘Amos is hardly dating material; women are as disposable as handkerchiefs in his world. I’ve been there.’ Hagrid, still not believing her, winked. ‘Maybe all it takes is the right woman, Suzy….’

Her eyes traveled over the staff’s table and landed on Severus Snape. The Potion’s Master sat on the headmaster’s left side and looked more bored and out of place than anything, probably because the mere idea of casually socializing with other human beings repulsed him—surely he’d rather spend time with his bat companions. Despite his distaste of social contact, Severus was conversing with a handsome woman Suzy recognized as Septima Vector, Hogwarts Arithmancy teacher.

‘I’m not the right woman for Amos, believe me,’ Suzy murmured at Hagrid, ignoring the way her stomach twisted in itself. ‘We do well as friends. I’m his trusty advisor whenever the women in his life give him a hard time and that’s how it’ll stay.’ ‘Sure, Suzy,’ Hagrid replied with a low chuckle—certainly not believing her. ‘...what are you looking at?!’ ‘Excuse me, is this seat taken?’ A male voice inquired politely, to which both Hagrid, Suzy and Hel looked up. They were greeted by a slender man with dark brown hair and dark eyes that bore a hesitant glow in them, his hand resting on the back of the chair on Suzy’s left. ‘Definitely not!’ Suzy replied and gestured at the said seat. ‘Please, sit down. I don’t think we’ve met before, have we? I’m Susannah Brown, the new History of Magic teacher—Professor Binns has finally retired and Professor Dumbledore asked me to take over his post.’ ‘Ah! I fear I have just arrived,’ the man explained as he shook both Suzy’s and Hagrid’s hand before taking his seat. ‘I am Arif Sikander, the new Muggle Studies teacher. Professor Dumbledore recruited me last week after he heard that Professor Quirrell wished to extend his sabbatical until next summer.’ ‘Muggle objects can come in handy,’ Hagrid said. ‘I must say I’m a bit of a—’ he stopped himself, for Professor Sikander was staring at Hel. ‘Oh, this is Hel,’ he continued. ‘Suzy’s dragon.’ ‘A dragon?!’ Professor Sikander exclaimed. ‘Now, those you don’t see every day!’ ‘Helena’s a teacup dragon,’ Suzy elaborated as she scratched Hel’s chin. ‘They are extremely rare and are even considered unnatural by most breeders.’ ‘They are unnatural,’ Amos told Suzy as he lowered himself in the vacated chair on Professor Sikander’s left side. ‘Did you know that a teacup dragon is a—’ ‘Hey!’ Suzy reprimanded Amos while quickly covering Hel’s ears. ‘Will you shut it? I don’t go around and tell everyone that you’re a pain in the ass all the time, do I? Hel is a blessing and that’s all I want to hear from you.’ Professor Sikander eyed them both, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat. Amos laughed at that and patted the poor man on his shoulder. ‘It’s all in good’s sport,’ he said. ‘I’m Amos Warrington, by the way. New Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Suzy and I go way back. We went to school here. And who would have believed that the both of us would end up here in this place again?’ Suzy shook her head. ‘Not me.’ ‘I heard rumors that she’d be here,’ Amos went on as he shook Professor Sikander’s hand. ‘But I wouldn’t have guessed Susannah would trade her dream job as a dragon trainer for this post.’

Suzy could barely refrain from rolling her eyes; it was kind of Amos to praise her, but must he reveal her whole past in front of a stranger?! He was an auror for Merlin’s sake—didn’t he know better?! Her eyes traveled over the staff’s table once more, accidentally catching Snape’s gaze. The dark pools burned straight into her soul, setting her darkest secrets on fire. ‘Lily, Lily, Lily….’ her mind sang and Suzy quickly looked the other way.

‘Well,’ Professor Sikander offered politely, drawing in Suzy’s attention. ‘The same can be said for you, Amos. What are you doing here? I heard you are an auror, and a successful one at that.’ ‘I couldn’t possibly deny Professor Dumbledore, could I?’ Amos exclaimed with a laugh. ‘I mean, the fact that our headmaster even considered me for the post is humbling enough as it is. Even though, as he kindly explained, it will only be for a year.’ ‘Exactly,’ Suzy rejoined the conversation with a grin, pointing her index finger at Amos. ‘You can’t refuse Dumbledore,’ she turned to Hagrid. ‘Right, Rubeus?’ ‘Aye,’ Hagrid agreed.

Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet and patiently waited for his staff members to round up their conversations. As the room slowly fell silent, the headmaster’s eyes wandered over everyone’s faces, nodding solemnly at each staff member.

‘Welcome back,’ he announced. ‘I’m glad to see so many familiar faces back at Hogwarts.’ He turned to Arif and Amos, a fond smile adorning his face. ‘A special welcome to Arif Sikander, who has graciously accepted my offer to teach Muggle Studies this year. As most of you know, Professor Quirrell has decided to extend his sabbatical for a year. We’re grateful that you’re here to enlighten us on this interesting topic, Professor Sikander.’ ‘Thank you, headmaster,’ Professor Sikander replied as he was met with applause from the other staff. ‘I’m glad I can be of help this year.’ "We're happy you’ve returned here,’ Dumbledore said warmly, before reverting his gaze to Amos. ‘And another welcome to our own Amos Warrington, who joined us just now to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this upcoming year. We’re happy to have you here as well, Professor Warrington.’ ‘Thank you, Professor Dumbledore,’ Amos spoke, practically beaming. ‘And hello everyone, I’m sure most of you know me already, but for the ones that don’t—I’m Amos, auror and adventurer in my spare time. I’m delighted that Professor Dumbledore has offered me the post, and I’m sure it will be an eventful year for us all.’ ‘Just leave Peeves alone this time around,’ Dumbledore replied, eyeing Amos with an amused glance. ‘Hogwarts is a school, not a fencing court.’

Suzy and a few others chuckled at the notion. She had almost forgotten about it, but it seemed that Peeves wouldn’t cause her much grief, for Amos had a long standing feud with the poltergeist. No one knew exactly how it had started, but the two hated each other’s guts and often tried to outsmart one another—much to the amusement of the rest of the castle.

‘Now that is out of the way,’ Dumbledore went on. ‘As tradition prescribes, we’ll enjoy a hearty lunch before our students arrive to liven up the castle. But first, Minerva was so kind as to remind me of the following—since we house more students this year than we did in the years before, we have to ask you to help us patrol the halls at night during the first weeks; just to make sure no student’s get lost in the castle during bedtime hours. Because we all value our peace and quiet, Minerva has set up a schedule, which you can find in your classroom after lunch.’

Dumbledore allowed all of them to digest this information for a moment and then clapped in his hands—the whole table suddenly filled with food. ‘Without further ado, let the feast begin….’

The Great Hall quickly filled with the familiar sounds of conversation and people enjoying their meal. ‘This never gets old,’ Amos remarked, helping himself to a bowl of potato salad. ‘Another reason to return to Hogwarts. Those house-elves know how to cook!’ ‘They sure do,’ Hagrid said as he carefully put Hel upon his lap. ‘Welcome back, Amos. It’s good to see you.’ ‘And you!’ Amos replied before stuffing his face with potato salad and looking at Hel. ‘She’s a gorgeous creature, Suzy,’ he murmured. ‘You will have to make sure Hagrid won’t try to steal her from under your nose.’ ‘I must say I have thought about it,’ Hagrid confessed with a sigh. ‘How can I not? She’s such a wee little thing, she won’t hurt a fly.’

Actually, ironically enough (dragon)flies were Hel’s favorite snack, but in this case Suzy decided that she shouldn’t make Amos—or Professor Sikander—the wiser. She watched her draconic friend as Hagrid loaded his plate with all kinds of meats and vegetables—her friend muttering something about leafy stuff and ‘good for me health’ —while Hel took a good sniff of the delicious food. ‘Hel,’ Suzy warned. ‘We don’t steal food off plates. It’s not sanitary. I’ll get you something.’ Hel mewled, her golden eyes flashing. ‘Patience is a virtue,’ Suzy said as she emptied a small bowl of Cornish pasties onto a half empty plate of lamb chops—courtesy of Amos and Hagrid—and scanned the table for food that Hel could eat—preferably not something too spicy, for no one liked a dragon with stomach aches. ‘Do they have….’

As if she had spoken out her request aloud, a small plate filled with raw meat appeared next to her own. ‘Thank you,’ Suzy said to no one in particular, yet she knew that the house-elves had received her gratitude. She discarded the empty plate and offered Hel her very own. ‘Here, you little monster.’

‘Is Helena registered with the ministry, Suze?’ Amos inquired as the four of them—Hagrid, Suzy, Professor Sikander and Amos himself—watched Hel devour her lunch. ‘Since she’s an exotic beast and all.’ Suzy shook her head. She had briefly considered the necessity—she wasn’t stupid by all means—but her move to Hogwarts had been so sudden that she had pushed the tedious task from her mind. ‘No, we just arrived in the country a few weeks ago,’ she replied, for in cases like this, playing the ignorant act was best. ‘Should she be?’ ‘Yeah, sooner than later,’ Amos told her with a grin. ‘You need a permit to own a beast like her. If word gets out that Hogwarts houses a dragon under its roof without informing the ministry first, it will cause a lot of grief with the prime minister.’ ‘I suppose you’re right,’ Suzy mused. ‘It’s… The move to Hogwarts has been so sudden that I… I forgot.’ ‘It happens to the best of us,’ Professor Sikander offered kindly. ‘I’m sure they’ll understand when you explain it to them.’ ‘Hel is a no brainer,’ Hagrid said fiercely. ‘Just look at her, she’s just a wee—’ ‘All will be alright,’ Amos said with a wink. ‘I have connections in the department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I will help you get that permit, Suze.’ ‘You would?’ Suzy inquired with a smile. ‘Amos Warrington, what would I do without you?!’ ‘You’d fall victim to the Ministries’ bureaucracy,’ Amos said. ‘And trust me, no one wants to end up there….’

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Feedback is always welcome. Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :)

<- Previous chapter | Next chapter ->

[annabthesolitarywriter]

Glossary (Valarin)

Valide: mother

Aslanım: my boy (general term of endearment)

Yapma!: Don't!

Neden, Valide?: Why, Mother?

-

January 42 FoA, Ithilien

"Valide?"

The lady of Ithilien had been sitting quietly on a wooden bench. The understated light of the pale winter sun feebly lit up her emaciated face as she perused an old tome, its thin pages more than often escaping her trembling fingers. A lonely and helpless tear streamed down her cheek as she fought unwelcomed memories and with a sigh she set the book aside, briefly shutting her eyes before she turned around.

"Aslanım," she cooed, "my brave boy, my sweetheart. Come."

He quickly strode through the green lawn and walked up to her. She glanced at him proudly as he smiled. Her firstborn, her most adored child. Her confidant, her best friend. Her pride and joy. He knelt before her, kissed her hand—the one upon which she bore the Sapphire Ring the Lady Varda had gifted her on her wedding day so many years ago—and brought it to his forehead, as it was customary among the Maiar. She nodded and he rose to his feet before she could notice. She stared at him in admiration as stood up to greet him. She leapt up at once and pulled him to a tight hug before a sharp pain in the abdomen made her flinch. Her vision blurred and she let out a whimper before she silently fell into her son's arms.

"Mother!?"

He shook her lightly. "Please, mother, don't..."

He laid her on the bench and gently rolled her around to loosen up her dress. He was no healer, but instinct told him his mother had fainted because of her usual habit of having her waist bound too tightly. He pulled the laces at the back of her dress, but it seemed to him that the more he attempted to set her free of those horrid garments, the more entangled they became. Fear soon overwhelmed him and, in a moment of sheer panic, he grabbed his dagger and cut the fabric down to her lower back. As his mother groaned and slowly regained consciousness, he helped sit and wrapped her around the cloak she usually never forgot to wear—the starry cloak of Dol Amroth.

"Valide?"

He cupped her face. "Are you alright? I..."

His voice had trailed off and his breathing had become more erratic. He sniffled and lowered his head, his gray eyes filling with unshed tears. Elenna took a deep breath and gently propped up his chin.

"Look at me, sweetheart, look at me. I am fine. It is over now. See, nothing happened. You need not worry, my sweet boy. I am well."

She jokingly pinched his nose. "Go back inside now. I will join you in a while."

"I am not going anywhere."

"Mírion, my sweetheart, it really is nothing to..."

She paused and hissed as she hastily brought a hand to her stomach, the other instinctively searching for that of her son. She gripped it and waited for the pain to wane. When it finally did fade, she let go of Mírion's hand and nonchalantly fixed her cloak.

The boy stared at her for a long while, his eyes fixed on her. He eventually scoffed.

"I should have known," he looked away. "You are with child again. Of course you are."

She caught the disappointment in his tone; disappointment that was very much akin to a bubbling rage.

"Aslanım..."

"Yapma!" He gulped, his jaw clenched. "Yapma, Valide. Yapma."

She took his hand and hinted at a conciliatory smile. "I understand why you may feel frustrated. I do. But I promise you that..."

"What are you going to promise? Tell me. What are you going to say this time? You promised you would have stopped having children after Elanorellë was born. It has been eight years. Eight years, Valide. How many miscarriages, how many losses have you been through since then? How many losses have we been through? Have you and father ever thought about it?"

"It is our decision. It is my decision."

"You nearly died the last time you gave birth to a child, do you remember that? Must you be reminded of it?"

"That is enough, aslanım. While I do understand your reaction, you should not forget that, despite my mistakes, I am still your mother. You will not speak to me in that manner again. I did not raise you to be disrespectful."

"You call it disrespect. I call it concern."

"There is nothing to be concerned about. I promise. It is the last time. I will take better care of myself, I will do everything the healers recommend. I will give your father another son and..."

"Do you hear yourself? You already have sons. Boromir and myself. No matter how many children you have, I will always be my father's heir and I certainly do not plan to die. Why must you undergo this senseless torture? Why are you doing this? Neden, Valide? Tell me."

"Sweetheart..."

"I know why," he interrupted her. "That woman said so. Void-cursed Ioreth. How many times have you promised us to send her away? Why is she still here?"

"Mírion."

"Do you not understand she has poisoned your mind?"

"Mírion, that really is enough."

"I am only speaking the truth. Is that what bothers you?"

"Mírion!"

"Hit me if you wish. Punish me as you see fit. I care not."

"How can you..."

"if something happened to you...I could not bear it. None of us could. And I do not intend to lose my mother because of an old, wretched hag who should have departed this world long ago."

He was sitting next to her, his head nestled into her shoulder. "Please. Send her away. Get rid of her. Exile her, send her away. Give her some gold, whatever she asks of you. She needs to leave."

He sat up straight and took both her hands. "Should you...if you..."

"Nothing will happen to me, son. And, in any case, Ioreth should not be blamed."

"You cannot know that. What if..."

He burst into tears as he hugged her. "Don't leave us. Please. Send that woman away. PLEASE."

"If my times comes, I have no other choice. How can I change that which has been preordained by Eru himself?"

"How can you speak of it so calmly?"

"You should not fear death. Remember what the Men of old..."

"Your pain will end. You are looking forward to it, I know that."

"Mírion."

"You will finally be free. That is true. What about us? Has it ever occurred to you that your family may suffer? Your father, your brothers, your husband, your children?"

"You will always have your father to help you and guide you."

Uncontrollable tears were running down his face, his voice reduced to a whisper. "No. He will not be here. The burden will fall on me."

"What are you saying? He cannot die and..."

"Have you not noticed he is sick!? He has been sick for years. He does not talk about it, nobody does. But my heart tells me he does not have much time. Why do you think he no longer practices with me? General Varonwë is in charge of my training now."

He sobbed. "Mother, listen to me. He is not well and, if you go, he will follow you. So, please, listen to me. If you do not care about your children...do it for him. He loves you more than anyone. Do not do this to him. Don't."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Please live. I know you're in pain. Everything you have suffered, I wish I could have spared it to you. I wish I had suffered it myself. Because that would only mean one thing. Perhaps, you would be happy. That is all I have ever wanted. To see you happy. I know it hurts, but I must ask you to stay. Father needs you. My siblings need you, this child will need you. Don't you ever forget that."

His eyes suddenly caught a lonesome figure that seemed to come forward. He turned to Elenna once more.

"General Varonwë is here. I will take my leave." He hugged his mother again. "Go inside, you will be cold. Just rest, alright? I will visit you tonight before supper."

She nodded. "I love you so much, aslanım."

He smiled, his eyes still teary. "I know. I have always known. And I will love you until I last draw breath. That is my promise and I shall keep it. I shall."

-

Just a little snippet I wrote because I really couldn't sleep. It's totally unnecessary, but I felt like writing it and I think it turned out okay. It's decent, I think.

@lucifers-legions

@saurongorthaur9

@emmanuellececchi

*In Charlie's /Sauron's voice*: "Call it a gift." 🤣

Honestly, I need to write snippets because who knows when I'll get around to writing the full chapters about this. It will probably take me 30 years to get there.

(Literally Enna and Mírion brought to life)

That's the Valarin kiss (they also kneel)

[maddieautobot273]

Silk & Cologne (60)

A Miguel O'Hara x OC Fanfic - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 60: Dinner - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Female OC Spidersona

Words: 5.6K+

Warnings: Mentions of previous physical abuse and emotional trauma, mentions of sexual innuendos and items

Summary: Lisa and Miguel spend some quality time with her family in Seoul and attempt to reconnect.

*******

I was quiet as Grandma Park called us down for tea. Miguel and I made our way downstairs to the kitchen and I could barely fumble for words as I nodded silently towards her, thanking her for the drink as I tried to will myself not to look out into the backyard again. Jin was here. 

Of course he’s here, dummy, this is his home. This was bound to happen eventually. I just didn’t think this would happen in the mere minutes I’d arrive here. 

The tea had a pleasant scent and the taste was soothing, but not soothing enough to calm my nerves completely. Miguel sat with me at the counter, his free hand gently running down my back before the warmth of his palm pressed into the small of my back.

“We’ll be here for a few days. You don’t have to see him today if you’re not ready.” He said. 

I pondered the thought. The idea of pushing off our meeting until tomorrow or even the last day of our trip had its promises. But I also wasn’t looking forward to these jittering nerves snapping at my heels and fluttering in my stomach until it actually happened. 

“I was planning to serve a Tteokbokki and pork belly buffet tonight.” Grandma Park approached from the opposite side of the counter with her own mug. “But if you’re not ready, I can prepare a plate for you if you’d like to eat out in the garden. It’s especially lovely with the lights on at night.”

My mouth watered at the mention of the rice cakes and pork belly. Other than the kimchi, it was my absolutely most favourite dish I’ve had during my time in Korea, probably one of my favourite foods of all time, and the way Grandma Park made it was positively sublime. As if sensing the turmoil within me, Miguel’s hand brushed up my back again as his soft chuckle lured me to look over at him. 

“Don’t drool mi Mona Lisa, don’t let poor Grandpa Park think you’ve been starved this whole time.” He smirked. 

“Or I could just make Sujebi instead?” Grandma suggested with a teasing glint in her voice as she stared me down with a twinkle in her eye. 

My eyes went wide as I set the cup down, hands flailing. “No, no, no, it’s fine!” Plus, Sujebi had a little too many vegetables for my personal liking. 

“I’m teasing, tokki.” Grandma Park calmed me down with a gentle laughter. “But in all seriousness, do you want to wait?”

I glanced between her and Miguel, seeing a look of support and strength in his eyes. It filled me with the lack of confidence I wasn’t feeling earlier. I regained my composure before meeting my grandmother’s gaze again. 

“No, I. . . I want to do it tonight. I can do it.” 

“I’m so glad!” Grandma Park smiled, eyes brightening as she clapped her hands together. “If you want, why don’t you both help me prepare everything? It will be great bonding!”

I nodded along in agreement. “I think it could be fun.” Also a great distraction until tonight. 

“I’d be honoured to help, Grandma Park.” Miguel offered her a kind smile as his free and came up to squeeze my shoulder with a comforting gaze. “Lisa has been singing your high praises about your ‘killer’ kimchi since she told me about this trip.”

“Aya! The kimchi, of course, how could I forget? I’ll make that too.” Grandma Park’s eyes lit up as she suddenly scrambled from the fridge to an assortment of cabinets to gather ingredients. “In fact, Miguel, why don’t I show you how to make it?”

The look on Miguel’s face made me snort as his eyes went wide. “¿Lo siento?” Ge glanced between her and myself with surprise, I was surprised he remembered to set his cup down before almost losing it out of his grasp as he looked at me. “Are you sure?” - What, sorry? 

“You’ll be okay.” I reassured him as Grandma Park ushered him to come around the counter. 

I watched as he got up from his seat and walked around, joining her as they both washed their hands before getting started. “So, Miguel, when are you and Lisa getting married?”

It was as if every piece of glass and fine China shattered in the room, no, the world. Way to blindside us grandma, I didn’t know you were that desperate for grandkids!

My heart was pounding in my chest as I sat there completely frozen as a statue. Of course Grandma could be a little forward, but this was absolutely pushing it to the limit and then some. I look over at Miguel, terrified about how he’ll respond as I can see the gears in his head turning. As if sensing my distress, whether noticing my physical reaction or through our bond, Miguel clears his throat, looking at my grandmother dead in the eyes. 

“That depends, are you paying for the wedding?” 

There was a brief pause before she burst into laughter, her hand smacking the table. “Oh, ho, ho, you’re a funny one!” 

Miguel glanced over at me, winking playfully as the red crimson hue flickered in his eyes. Crisis averted. Well played, smooth operator Miguel.

“Now then, Lisa tells me you work in a tech company?” 

Grandma Park and Miguel chatted as they prepared the spicy cabbage dish. Miguel gave her the same speech as I had done in the past with my friends, minus all of the Spider Society and him being from another dimension. He had explained that while he was born and raised in New York, I almost caught his Nueva York slip up with a silent warning gaze, his family came from Mexico. 

“Oh, I love Mexico!” She smiled brightly, her voice a stunned awe as she glanced over at me. “Your grandfather and I went there for our 2nd honeymoon, it’s absolutely beautiful!” 

“2nd honeymoon?” I gawked at the older woman. “This is the first I’m hearing of this. When did that happen?”

“Oh it was years ago, tokki, after we renewed our vows.” Grandma Park waved it off as if it were nothing. “It was absolutely breathtaking. Miguel, would you take Lisa to Mexico anytime soon?”

My cheeks turned red as I nearly choked on my tea as I slammed the cup onto the counter. “Grandma!”

“What? I’m just saying it’s a lovely vacation destination, perfect for the summer or if you need a break from winter, which I hear New York’s are atrocious.” Grandma played it off again as she was just making idle conversation. 

Miguel stayed quiet at first, following along with grandma as he helped her spread the kimchi paste along the watered and salted cabbage, turning the green leaf into a spicy red. Our eyes met and a pulse of warmth suddenly shot through the bond as he smiled warmly. “I’ll put something in the books.”

I hid my face with my mug, sipping my tea almost too loudly and not at all suspicious. ‘You’re saying that to not hurt her feelings are you?’ 

‘Would you like to go? I’d love to show you around my Mexico City, or we can go to yours. I’m not picky. Although for me personally, your oceans look so much cleaner.’

‘I’ve. . . never been to Mexico.’ I admitted honestly, sparing a glance at him. 

He kept his gaze on me the whole time, and never looked away once. 

‘That settles it then. Let’s plan a trip together once we get back.’ He smiled at me and then his face suddenly contorted as if holding back a sneeze. “Is that–?”

“Ah, you must have smelled the chili powder. I tend to use more than the recipe requires to give a little more of a kick. Are you alright, Miguel?” Grandma Park asked out of concern after Miguel shook it off with a disgruntled huff. 

“Yes, I’m fine, just. . . allergies.” Miguel answered after a brief pause and then instantly regretted it when she gasped. 

“Allergies?” Grandma Park lifted a hand towards her mouth but recoiled, almost staining her mouth with the paste. 

“No, no, he’s not allergic to this, grandma,” I reassured her, reaching over and comforting her. “Miguel has a very. . . sensitive sense of smell.” I glanced over at Miguel, searching for any sign that I was overstepping. “Since he was a kid.”

“Yes. . .” Miguel nodded slowly in acknowledgement. “Sorry, I got my words confused.”

“Ah, I see. . .” Grandma Park nodded along. 

“Apologies for scaring you.” Miguel glanced over at her, an apologetic look in his eyes. 

“It’s quite alright.” Grandma Park smiled warmly. Then her face suddenly lit up as she reached and opened a drawer. “I have an idea!”

She rummaged around for a moment before pulling out something I didn’t quite make out at first. She turned to Miguel, motioning for him to lean forward. Miguel had a puzzled yet curious look on his face as he did as asked and then my mouth dropped as she slipped on a pair of scuba goggles on him. 

There was no air in my lungs as my hand went up to my mouth, desperately trying to mutter my laughter. Miguel stood back up, exchanging a look that said ‘I’d never buy you coffee ever again’. 

“Not a word to any of our friends back home.” He grumbled after I snapped a picture on my phone. 

By friends, I knew he mostly meant Lyla. 

“I promise.” I singsonged, crossing my heart with my finger. 

Miguel and Grandma Park resumed their work on the Kimchi. As I watched them while finishing my tea, trying as I might, despite my brain telling me repeatedly to not look, I turned and glanced toward the giant glass windows that overlooked their backyard. 

I found Grandpa talking with Jin, Pom Pom’s little tail wagging excitedly as they hovered near their feet. They looked over a series of flowerbeds in the garden, probably discussing the flowers. Jin actually seemed. . . relaxed. Dare I say happy. 

I glanced down at my now empty tea cup, a nervous bubble forming in the pit of my stomach. 

I can do it. 

*********

The hours seemed to slowly tick by, as if the universe was taunting me about the inevitable. Watching Miguel spend time and getting to know my grandparents helped me a little with my nerves, and whenever I needed him, Miguel offered his shoulder to lean on or his hand to hold and squeeze. 

It got immensely better when my mother finally arrived. 

“I’m so sorry I took so long! My meeting with the fundraiser at the country club across town took forever, and the traffic was awful!” She rambled on before enveloping me in a tight bear hug. “Oh, I missed you baby!”

“I missed you too, mom!” I nearly wheezed and gasped for air after finally pulling away from her grasp. 

She looked over to Miguel, her smile beaming as she shook his hand. “Miguel, I’m so happy you could join us. When Lisa told me you’d be tagging along, I was over the moon!”

“Of course.” Miguel smiled back at her with a warm gaze. “I wanted to provide moral support.”

To catch up and spend some mother-daughter time, Janet quickly took me out shopping at a nearby mall to pick out an outfit for tonight. We tried to look for something that screamed ‘confident daughter who won’t take no more shit from her step-father’. By we I mean me. 

In the end, I settled for a nice pair of matching black dress pants and jacket with a blue blouse and flats. Nothing too lavish, but I wanted to be professional and be a better person. If Jin was making progress like mom said he was, then I’d try to put in some effort for this dinner. 

When we returned, Grandma not only finished the kimchi with Miguel’s help, but she also roped him into helping prepare the rest of the buffet! She had to stop him twice from trying to sneak a piece of the pork belly and threatened him with no dessert if he didn’t comply. Miguel claims it was an exaggeration. 

“I only swiped 1 piece.” He claimed. 

“1 pork belly and 3 rice cakes!” Grandma Park corrected. 

After that was done, Jin had retired to his room, so Grandpa gave us a tour of their recently renovated backyard. It was a giant, beautiful garden with various assortment of flowers, a giant cherry blossom tree and a meditation corner. 

“It was Jin’s passion project these last few months.” he had explained, offering me a flower to smell.

I held it delicately in my hand, catching a whiff of the aroma. “They’re beautiful…” 

After the tour of the garden, we went back inside and I showed off the new outfit I got to Miguel, and he had me help him go through his entire gizmo inventory for the perfect outfit to A) make a good impression with my family and B) Not make it so obvious that he wanted to match with me. He was mostly opting for the latter. 

After passing the time and waiting a painstaking couple of hours and a shower to clean myself up and calm me down, it was dinner time. 

We all sat in the dining room, Miguel, myself and my mom on one side, followed by Grandpa, Jin, and Grandma on the other. We mostly ate in silence at first, making the occasional small talk. It helped that Grandma’s cooking was absolutely fantastic. I couldn’t remember the last time I drooled so much over a piece of pork, and the Tteokbokki was killer. 

Of course, good food isn’t enough to stop the inevitable. 

“Lisa, Janet showed us your performance back in New York.” Grandpa initiated the conversation, his eyes beaming with pride. “We are so proud of you.”

My heart fluttered with warmth as I smiled at him. “Thank you, grandpa.”

“Oh, yes, it was wonderful! The bright lights, the pretty colours! Very well choreographed. Everything seemed so lively!” Grandma Park praised before glancing over at Jin. “Jin watched it with us, he was very impressed.”

All eyes turned to Jin at that comment. He swallowed his food before pausing, our eyes meeting. 

“Remember, Jin?” Grandma Park pressed. 

“. . . You were exceptional.” He nodded firmly. 

I didn’t remember holding my breath until I sighed in relief, letting the nerves and tension ease out of me as we all resumed eating. 

Just. . . exceptional? 

“You’ve been keeping up with your practice.” Jin noted. 

“It was a little tricky at first, you know, restricted to bed rest and all, but I got by.” I replied. 

I don’t know why I worded it like I did, but after I spoke the words, the air around us suddenly became tense. 

“Why New York, if I may ask?” Jin went on, his eyes locked on to me. “There were plenty of well established teams back in Toronto.”

I would have stayed. But the memories, the scars… they ran too deep. “I needed a fresh start.” I shrugged my shoulders innocently. 

Jin’s gaze lowered to his plate, his fork picking at his food before his eyes narrowed up at me. “Korea could have been your fresh start if you stayed.”

“Jin!” Janet shushed him, her head whipping towards him. 

My heart dropped. 

The gloves were officially off. 

“Why didn’t you come to me the day before the show?” Jin pressed on, his eyes solely focused on me. “Instead you waited until the last possible second, right before your debut show. Did you want me to cause a scene and stop the performance altogether?” 

“I wasn’t saying I wanted you to stop our whole performance, I said that ‘I’ wanted out. The rest of my group could have performed just fine without me.” I stated, my stomach suddenly turning into knots. 

I didn’t mean for things to get so heated. I thought we’d wait until after dinner before getting into the nitty gritty and do family therapy. What sucked the most about this was I just lost my appetite for grandma’s killer Tteokbokki. 

“Even on our good days, you constantly criticized what I’d do, eat, dress!” I stressed, nearly flinging away a piece of pork. 

“I was trying to look out for you.” Jin responded in earnest. “As your popularity grew, all eyes were on you, Lisa, just waiting for you to let your guard down. That’s the dark side of this industry, I was trying to protect you without showing too much favoritism.”

Favouritism?! 

“By constantly making me feel like I wasn’t good enough?” The outburst slipped out before I could even think of the words. “By attacking me?!”

Miguel’s free hand slipped under the table, squeezing my thigh and holding me into my chair. He knew fully well that if this went on for any longer, I might jump out of my chair and leap right for him. His eyes were sharp as he glared towards Jin, like a panther sizing up his prey. If I wasn’t going to take the dive, he would.

“I acknowledge what I did was outlandish and absolutely awful, but I am still your father. I may not have been there when you were brought into this world and in your early years, but I watched you grow. I helped mold you into the capable woman you are now.”

Something snapped in me as I dropped my chopsticks onto my plate. “No. You molded me into the woman I was 2 years ago. Times have changed. I’m not the same, broken, fragile thing I was back then, and I never will be. I molded myself into this capable woman I am today. You had nothing to do with it.”

I shot up from my chair, tossing my napkin to my plate as Miguel’s hand fell from my lap. All eyes were on me, but I focused my attention solely on the pair I wanted to address. 

“I can acknowledge you’ve made progress in most aspects of your life and behavior, and I’m glad you have people that can help you. But, clearly, there’s still some work to be done about this–” I pointed a finger between the two of us, “-if it's even remotely salvageable. But that’s apparently not going to happen tonight.”

A chill crawled through the air, the room turning cold and suffocating as tears burned in my eyes, but I held strong to keep them at bay. I turned towards my grandparents, bowing my head respectfully. 

“Thank you for the lovely meal.” I leveled my head as I glanced around the table to look at my mother and Miguel. “Excuse me.”

My chair scraped against the floor as I backed away, stepping away from the dining room table and down the hall, before slipping outside into the backyard. 

**********

Miguel’s P.OV. 

After Lisa stormed off, Miguel had the urge to stand and go after her, to comfort her, but her mother beat him to it. She shot a disappointed glare towards her husband before excusing herself from the table. Grandma and Grandpa Park looked upon us in shocked silence, swearing softly in their native tongues. 

A million thoughts were running through Miguel’s head. 90% of them ended with Jin as a corpse. But that would leave a horrible impression with Lisa’s grandparents. They weren’t at fault for his behavior and they had both been lovely to them since their arrival.

“She came here because she believed, even with the smallest of chances, that you had changed.” Miguel’s eyes narrowed darkly towards Jin, his crimson eyes piercing into his very soul. “You just proved her wrong, and wasted her valuable time.”

There was a flicker in Jin’s eyes, but he didn’t move from his chair, his knuckles bone white as he held a death grip on his fork. 

“We’re here for another few days. You have until the hour before our flight to apologize to her, because if you don’t, I think I know Lisa well enough that she would never want to see or hear from you ever again.” Miguel growled lowly, his fists held firm at his sides to stop himself from completely losing his cool. 

Jin remained silent in his chair before slowly releasing his fork, the sound of the metal clattering softly against the plate as he leaned back in his chair. As if he was just now coming to terms with what had just happened. And then he spoke up. 

“I am glad she has someone like you to watch over her.” His voice was quiet, punctual. “It’s hard for her to go through discussions like this on her own.”

The tension seeped away from Miguel’s body as he took a breath, his fingers loosening. “I don’t care what you have to say about me.”

Miguel casted an apologetic look towards Grandma and Grandpa Park, thanking them for the meal before excusing himself from the table. His footsteps were heavy, but quick as he sauntered to the opposite end of the house to the giant sliding screen door. He stopped at the archway, a hand at the door as he watched Janet hold Lisa close in the bright spotlights of the yard as she cried into her shoulder.

He wanted nothing more than to take Lisa in his arms right there and then, but knew Lisa needed time. So he waited. 

“What do you want to do, honey?” Janet asked Lisa, hands on her hips as she put on her serious mom face.

When she put on that face, she meant business. A true mother’s intuition. 

Lisa took a breath and looked into her mother’s eyes and said “I don’t want to stay here tonight.”

Miguel took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he gripped the doorway tightly before pushing off from the door and headed upstairs to pack their things. 

*********

Lisa’s P.O.V. 

It was a long drive. Of course the closest available hotel I could find that wasn’t booked on a Friday night was on the opposite side of the district. But so long as there was an available room with a bed where I could lay down and just pass out and forget tonight even happened, I’d be happy. I wanted to call a taxi, but grandma insisted Ja Hoon drive us out of concern for our safety. By our safety, she of course meant mine. 

Miguel convinced me to accept the offer, as she just wanted to make sure I’d be taken care of. The lights of the street lamps shined over our faces through the dark as Ja Hoon guided the car and pulled over in front of a small building. It looked modern enough, perhaps not a lavish hotel or anything like my grandparents house, but it would do for one night. 

We got out of the car and Ja Hoon helped us with our luggage. I offered him a polite, thankful smile with a curt bow of my head. “Thank you for driving us, Ja Hoon.”

“It was no problem, Miss Kendrick.” He bowed back. “If you require my services again, I’m a phone call away.”

He glanced over to say goodbye to Miguel when suddenly he froze, his eyes slowly going wide as if he were realizing something. 

“Ja Hoon? Are you okay?” I asked with a concerned look in my eye as Miguel placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me from stepping forward. 

“No, no, everything is fun- fine! I meant fine!” Ja Hoon spoke quickly, bowing again with more urgency before making a beeline for his car.  “Enjoy yourselves!”

The car started and he took off down the street, his back headlight blurring off in the distance. 

“That was. . . weird.” I glanced over towards Miguel with a raised brow. “Any idea what that was about?”

“No idea.” Miguel looked equally as confused as I was. 

“Whatever, it’s getting late, and I’m too tired to dwell on it.” I shook it off, surpassing a yawn that crawled its way up my throat as I grabbed my suitcase. “Let’s go inside.”

Miguel followed close behind me as we entered the lobby and greeted the receptionist with a warm smile. She checked us in, handing us both our keys.

“Unfortunately this room is booked for the morning so we can only accommodate you both during your time tonight.” She explained. 

Odd. Do they not normally take walkins?

“That’s alright, we’ll only be here one night, thank you.” I nodded in understanding, but at this point I was so tired I was simply pretending to get some sleep. 

“Enjoy your stay with us, and if you require any extra services, our room service is open all night.” She smiled, waving us towards the elevator. 

“Thank you.” Miguel nodded as he gently pulled me along as we both stepped into the elevator. 

The doors closed in front of us and for the first time since we left the house, I let out a deep sigh as I leaned against Miguel. “Tired?” He asked me as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pecking the top of my head. 

“Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling right now.” I groaned. 

Tonight was. . . something. A disaster? Maybe I wouldn’t go that far. But it blew my expectations out of the water in the worst way possible. I hadn’t raised my voice like that since the accident, and the look on his face. . . 

The elevator chime snapped me out of my train of thoughts as we arrived on our floor. Walking down the hall, I found our room number as I unlocked the door and opened it, stepping inside. I sighed in relief seeing a nice, clean room with a bed and bathroom. 

“Oh thank god, now I can sleep a little easier. . .” I cheered, nearly toppling onto my knees right there and then. 

“Don’t pass out on me yet, mi corazon.” Miguel snickered, ruffling my hair with his hand. “Actually unpack your things and get ready for bed first.” - my Sweetheart 

“Fine.” I huffed, lifting my suitcase onto the couch to unzip it. “But I call dibs on the better side of the bed.”

“Then I call dibs on the first shower.” Miguel smirked back at me, taking off his coat and putting it on the hanger. 

“Deal.” I caved, the idea of a shower sounding absolutely incredible too. 

Miguel made his way to the hotel bathroom as I opened my suitcase and started rummaging for my pajamas to set them aside on the bed before putting away the rest of my things. But as I approached the bed, I noticed something off about this bed. It seemed rather large, even for two people. Had the room I booked on a last ditch effort to get out of the house been a deluxe and I didn’t notice?

Was this even a king size bed?

A low whistle caught my ear as I heard Miguel speak up, “Lisa, what the shock is the size of this bathtub?” 

“What?” I turn and walk over to the bathroom, standing in the door to peer inside. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor as I looked at the giant size bathtub with molded seating and jets. “A bathtub? That looks like a jacuzzi to me!”

“I have never been more excited to take a bath in my life.” The balls of his feet bounced with an excited spring as Miguel immediately pulled his shirt off, motioning to his body and height. “This was why I switched to showers.”

“Well then you go on and enjoy yourself while I finish packing.” I chuckled at his enthusiasm, my cheeks a light shade of pink as my gaze trailed over his exposed chest before quickly averting my gaze back to his face. “You deserve a moment to yourself and relax after tonight.”

“That’s my line.” He teased before his expression softened, pointing to his gizmo. “If you want, since there's plenty of space, you can join me? I can have Lyla whip out swimsuits for us to help you feel comfortable.”

My heart fluttered at the gesture, a soft smile on my face. He wasn’t forcing me into anything I wasn’t ready for, but wanted to still help me find ways for me to relax. “That’s really sweet of you, Miguel, but I’ll be okay for tonight. Just don’t use all the hot water.”

“Yes ma’am.” he gave me a salute, waiting for me to leave before starting the water and stripping off the rest of his clothes. 

As I was leaving, I couldn’t help but notice that the shower was also a generous size as well. Was it some sort of theme in this hotel? To make us feel smaller or shrunk like in ‘Honey, I Shrunk The Kids’? Cause this was one weird way of showing it. 

I stepped back into the bedroom, noticing a small bowl of red cherry candies on the side table. I popped one into my mouth before I resumed unpacking. I took a handful of clothes, humming the tone of a song to help soothe me as I reached for a drawer on the dresser. I pulled it open and before I could put my clothes in, I recoiled and dropped my clothes. 

I gasped, but no scream came out of me as I covered my hands with my mouth. I tiptoed back to the open drawer and peeked inside. Surely my mind was playing tricks on me. This couldn’t have been the hotel’s fault. Did the previous tenants of this hotel room leave these behind?

A generous helping of strawberry flavoured condoms was on one side, floral pattern lace and lingerie on the other in three different colours. 

My hands were trembling as I reached out and picked up one of the condom wrappers. When my hand made physical contact with it, my heart skipped a beat, a wave of anxiety washing over me before I threw it back and slammed the drawer shut. 

There’s no way. There’s absolutely no way. 

I opened another drawer and stared in shock. An assortment of vibraters and other ‘toys’ was inside. I checked all of them. Every single drawer had something inside, all but one. I didn’t feel comfortable putting my clothes in that drawer after what I saw. 

Okay, there were way too many of these things for the scenario to be that they were left behind. But why would the hotel have all of this stuff–!

Wait a shocking minute. 

I noticed a remote control on top of the dresser. I reached for it, turning on the TV. A streaming service came on screen. At a glance, it seemed normal enough until I cycled through their selection. Everything was an R or X rated adult film. My skin turned pale as I dropped the remote and it clattered to the floor. There was another remote embedded on the side of the headrest of the bed with over a dozen buttons, and I don’t know how I didn’t notice this until now; There were no windows. 

“Miguel!” My voice cracked as I called for him, panic rushing through me as I suddenly felt light headed. 

“Lisa?” His voice responded, followed by splashing and the pitter patter of his feet against the cool tile floor of the bathroom. He emerged in the bedroom, hair damp and body soaking wet as he hastily tied a towel around his waist. “What’s wrong, what happened?” He brandished his fangs and claws, scanning the room for signs of danger.

My heart panged at how he looked, realizing he literally flung himself out of the middle of the bath because he heard me call for help. I felt awful for disturbing him at this moment and silently vowed I’d make it up to him later with all the fancy soap and fancy shampoos he wanted, heck even a bath bomb or two. 

“I made a mistake!” I blurted out, the first set of words coming to me as I scrambled to steady myself. 

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” He commanded, stepping forward as he recoiled his claws before placing his hands on my shoulders, the water staining my shirt but I didn’t care too much right now. “Just breathe.”

He waited for me to take a couple deep breaths in and out before speaking again. 

“What mistake? Was it dinner?” He asked. 

“No, it’s this room!” I clarified, my voice tense with a slight, anxious whine to it. “I booked us the wrong room.”

“What are you talking about, Lisa?” He asked me, trying to get a read on me but I could tell by the look on his face he was struggling. 

The words were right there on the tip of my tongue, but for the life of me I couldn’t get them out. All I could do at the moment was lower my head in either shame or cowardness, perhaps both, as I pointed to the TV. 

Miguel glanced over at the screen, his eyes trailing over the text. His eyes widened as his hands moved away from my shoulders, one of his hands coming to his towel to hold it in place. He turned back to look at me. 

“And the dresser. . .” I muttered softly. 

Noticing that some of my clothes were littered on the floor, he was about to speak up until his voice trailed off once he opened the drawer containing the condoms and lingerie, then the same one with the sex toys. He didn’t need to open the others to know where this was going. He did a once over around the room before his eyes met mine, finally understanding the source of my stress. “Lisa…?”

I sucked in one more deep breath before I blurted out the words. “I accidentally booked us a room in a love hotel!”

As if this night couldn’t get any worse. 

*******

Leave a like or comment if you wish to be added to the tag list!

Tagged: @0eye0​, @sadgurlstar , @uhnanix​ , @r1dd1kulus​,    @kirablommuwu @kenacole​ @kuinnoa​,   @devotedlyatomicdeer  @hltendo , @r0sib3lleeditx @noahspector​​    @senicrile    @ahoeformyself

[the-ellia-west]

6 notes is good enough - TCOT Synopsis

Kasi is an Outlander. That means she lives outside of any city, and her life is centered more around work than comfort. So when she's invited to a party, she is expectedly suspicious. But for her parents who were invited to a more important event, this is an opportunity they cannot lose. With her twin brother Xhaazi stuck at home with an illness he refuses to acknowledge, Kasi knows she has to go without the support of the family she has relied on her entire life. When she arrives, she is relieved to find she is not entirely alone. Her best friend Chrin has also been invited to this strange party. But soon after the two begin to enjoy this event usually reserved for the higher class, a mysterious figure drops onto the scene. No one recognizes the man until he pulls out a weapon many recognize. 

By that point, only Kasi and Chrin are left in the dark until someone shouts the name they've only read about in the papers. A murderer. Adllsais. After that, chaos ensues in several other freak accidents involving all three outlanders which drives them far away from their home and eventually out into the wild world they've never had the chance to explore, exposing them to dangers they don't have the resources to defeat. So the three are grateful when they find a man who calls himself River who seems to be willing to help them. But things just seem to get worse as he abandons them on a beach with minimal supplies and a message warning them not to return home. So, with nowhere else to go, the three decide to try and find a city. But on their way, they run into two runaway creatures of a species which have adopted the name of Shades. The two Shades, Sokuna and her young Daughter Mouse, ask our three heroes if they would like to help them start a rebellion. Rather done with being pushed around and deciding to heed River's strange warning, they agree to help and make friends with the two shades, gaining protection while also digging themselves deeper into their own graves. 

But where there are friends, there are also enemies. Those enemies take the form of a strange army, which Sokuna and Mouse hate so much, and a cursed Assassin bound to the army by a promise. Desperate to be free of the curse that has tortured him for the past fifteen years, Marril ends up willing to do nearly everything to regain his freedom, which sets him on a path to kill an important Noblewoman. While on the other side of the villainous coin, we have three members of the army. The second in command Tias who is cruel and cold, Tias' short-time partner Kila who will work herself to death to prove a point, and Viasaki who is plagued by thousands of voices who urge him to surrender control of his mind to some mysterious entity.

While the world crumbles around them, our beloved heroes must learn to see the flaws in their shattered home. They will travel far from home and some will even forget what they came for. On their journey to find the truth every single one of them will  fight not only to save themselves but also their broken world, and they will all discover threats brewing beneath the surface which hold secrets that could topple nations.

[Learn more about TCOT (The Cursed One's Throne) in my Profile/Blog]

[celestial-blade]

Make them laugh

Pairing: Bianca and Bradley

fic: Accidentals

wc: 1017 (it's honestly mostly lyrics)

notes: this is very silly, but y'all are descendants fans that put up with Did I Mention? so there are no excuses

The view of the sky, bisected by the roof of the stage she lay on, did a good job of clearing her mind. Bianca focussed intently on each cloud that floated by if only to avoid thinking about anything else. 

“What’s on your mind?” Bradley had come out of seemingly nowhere, making her flinch at the sudden sound of his voice. Realistically he’d spotted her from across the beach nearly ten minutes ago, only growing concerned when she’d hardly moved in all that time. She hadn’t been certain what exactly she wanted to tell him, but as her eyes met his, she felt safe enough to at least not completely lie.

“It’s been a rough day,” Bianca sighed, unwilling to go any further into things while she wasn’t certain who could be around to hear them. “I don’t really want to be anywhere by myself though, so…” 

“I’m free for a while, I’ll stick around,” he promised, outwardly casual. One of the ukuleles on the edge of the stage caught his eye, the pink one. He leant over to grab it. “Mind if I play?” Bianca let out a sharp laugh.

“Not at all.” Maybe it could take her mind off things.

“Any requests?” Bradley offered, strumming a few test chords, undecided on a song. Bianca considered it for a moment.

“Nothing slow,” she replied. “I don’t know. Something fun.” He needed little more of a suggestion than that, testing a few chords before launching right into song. Bianca sat up, cross legged in cynical optimism. 

Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains

Already the ukulele had got the attention of Matthew, who’d been wrapping cables backstage, as well as a few other musicians hanging around before their rehearsals. All it took was Bradley to give him a look while maintaining the song, for Matthew to catch on to his idea.

I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I let you go and blow my mind

“Sam, Marty!” Matthew shouted, calling two of his bandmates over. 

Your sweet moonbeam, the smell of you in every single dream, I dream

I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind

Sam quickly sat behind the drum kit, Marty getting out his phone to record the whole song, setting it in position on his keyboard and sitting in position to add a few electric piano chords to Bradley’s ukulele, and Sam’s drum beat. 

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo

The way you move ain't fair, you know!

Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do, tonight

With the song picking up in volume, a small group of other students on their breaks throughout the day had joined Bianca in watching the song unfold on the beachside stage. Bradley had remained sat beside her, and the way he looked at her had her momentarily considering that she was his only focus despite everything going on around him.

Just in time, I'm so glad you have a one-track mind like me

You gave my life direction, a game show love connection we can't deny

Matthew had set up a guitar to an amplifier, stepping out onto the stage alongside the steadily increasing band. 

I'm so obsessed, my heart is bound to beat right out of my untrimmed chest

I believe in you, like a virgin, you're Madonna

And I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind

The first electric guitar chords broke through the rest of the song, adding a freshness to the sound, and a warmth that directly reflected the group on stage. The crown only kept growing.

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo

The way you move ain't fair, you know!

Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do, tonight

Any moment now, Bianca was convinced Bradley would become aware of the people watching, that he’d start to play into it and perform to them. Even that he’d acknowledge anyone else, maybe stand up on the stage with the rest of his band and play out to the audience. But his attention was unwavering, focussed on her and only her.

Well you can cut a rug, watching you's the only drug I need

So gangsta, I'm so thug, you're the only one I'm dreaming of

You see, I can be myself now finally, in fact there's nothing I can't be

The way he looked at her changed the meaning of a simple song to turn around a miserable day, to something else entirely as he sang, directly to her.

I want the world to see you'll be, with me

A smile broke through her previously tense, awestruck expression, creasing her eyes and cheeks in a way that ached after she’d been still for so long. 

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo

The way you move ain't fair, you know!

Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do, tonight

Sam picked up the drum beat, the whole crowd clapping in time to it along with the song. This was the most active crowd Bianca had seen in a long time, and the fact that Bradley was still essentially ignorant to it stunned her. She hadn’t known a single musician in the past that was as good at blocking out the crowd as he was.

Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do

Tonight

Hey, hey, hey

Tonight

Hey, hey, hey

The rest of the band cut their sound completely, the final chords of the ukulele ringing out across the beach. Bradley beamed at her.

Tonight

As the crowd cheered, the band on stage clapping back and accepting the praise, Bradley just smiled at Bianca.

“Upbeat enough?”

She nodded, a soft smile on her face too. When everyone else had gone, and the stage had been packed up for the night, when she could finally get him alone, she could ask to hear it again.

[itsncthingpersonal]

"Sorry, mate. Won't do it again...promise." Rudy flashed him a sheepish grin, knowing that keeping to the promise relied entirely on whether this mischievous ghost behaved. She was probably laughing at him somewhere in the shadows, delighting in him spooking the other without her having to lift a single finger. Well, this vampire was not going to be made fun of. If she wanted to play, he'll swing! Shaking out the tension in his body, he huffed whilst perusing the selection of ancient books upon the shelves. They appeared professionally bound, their covers made of expensive material and each title pressed on the side and front in silver lettering. But all of them were coated in a thick layer of dust, and Rudy removed one book to swipe away at it, using the sleeve of his bomber jacket to do so. It clung to the material, turning black to grey, but he wasn't fazed. His clothing had been covered in much worse.

"'WILD FLOWERS'," He read the title aloud, studying the pretty blue front where an intricate drawing of some vibrant yellow flowers were engraved. It was simple, but effective. Turning the book over, there was nothing on the back. Whilst Percival was engrossed in his research of the room, Rudy decided to kick back and focus on staying out of the way for now. His friend could be somewhat sharpish when disrupted, so it was better to let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever made him happy. There was a part of him that was itching to wander off somewhere, that innermost sense of adventure calling out to the vampire, but he reckoned no good would come of it. Sure, the ghost was a bit cheeky, but he had no idea whether she was dangerous, as well. And he would never forgive himself for leaving a friend alone, exposed to any potential harm. So with some reluctance, Rudy accepted his fate of being confined to this eerie living room.

Keeping the book with him, he set his sights on one of the couches covered in a large cloth sheet. It didn't look too dirty, obviously used to protect the piece of antique furniture underneath from contamination. As he watched Percival's eyes start to glow a vibrant pink, Rudy fell back onto the couch in an attempt to lounge, but it resulted in a huge cloud of dust to explode upwards before settling down again. He coughed against the onslaught, wafting away the particles with his free hand and blinking against the ones that assaulted his own eyes. "Ugh," brushing down his clothing, the vampire eventually made himself comfortable. Leaning against the backrest, he concentrated on the book and flipped open its cover, skimming through a couple of pages until he reached multiple illustrations of flowers. They were beautifully drawn, their official names written in fanciful writing underneath, alongside a brief description of where they were often found.

"Hey, 'val-" He wanted to ask what his favourite flower was, but as he glanced up and noticed the man still glowing, Rudy stopped himself. He reminded himself not to disturb the other, glancing down at the pages once more, flicking past a few more. As he reached the middle, something fell into his lap. It was a small collection of pressed forget-me-nots, and he picked them up with a charmed smile, twirling them between his thumb and index finger. It was amazing to see them last so long. He wondered whether the woman placed them inside the pages when she was still alive. Maybe he'd ask her later. For now, they were here for something else, and he needed to stay on track. Placing the flowers in the top pocket of his jacket, their vibrancy peeking out from the top, he snapped close the book and stared over at Percival. Knowing that he was essentially banned from speaking, he hoped the raised eyebrow was enough to indicate his request for an update.

"I know this place is falling apart, but I would kindly ask you to not actively worsen the situation."

He looked at the wallpaper with raised brows. "Oh, and you probably shouldn't be touching that. I do believe this is Victorian wallpaper, and if I'm not mistaken, this specific type of wallpaper contains arsenic." Granted, if it did indeed contain arsenic, just touching it wouldn't be the biggest issue, and even if it were, Rudy might not be affected. Percival just hoped that it would at least discourage Rudy from touching any more of it.

He followed his companion as they began to move through the house. Rudy wasn't wrong; it was undeniably chilly, and Percival was indeed grateful for his coat.

"Give me a second, it's not always as straightforward as I'd like." The watch was awfully vague, and all Percival could do was try and interpret the signs accurately. The watch did not speak, but Percival could often hear the ticking of it inside his head, and lately it had been giving him a recurring dream of this place. And that had to mean something. The watch did not usually bother with such things unless there was something more behind it all.

In the same way that Percival knew of Rudy's predicament, it was probably a good thing Rudy knew about the watch, otherwise, Percival's eyes turning a vibrant, glowing pink would've probably been a rather confusing and possibly frightening sight. Still, it was the only way for him to take a look at the past and the way the house had been before time took its toll.

"This place really was beautiful once... what a sh-"

He nearly jumped at Rudy's sudden movements. "Well, I... I was looking to see if there is anything here until you scared me half to death." He gave Rudy a look that was a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "But these things take time. Just give me a moment, would you?"

[dottores-harness]

Blood Colored

Genre: Smut

Ship: DottoLumi

Warnings: Smut, Wax play, Light bondage (Her hands are tied)

Word Count: 2827

Summary: Dottore tries a little experiment in wax play with his Lumine.

====================

Lumine wiggles her wrists only to come to the same conclusion she had already come to. The bindings were tight; inescapable. Currently, both of her arms were stretched above her head and bound to the headboard. Her bare body shone in the orange and yellow light cast by the fireplace. She raises her head to confirm she is still by herself. Dottore had left shortly after binding her at least an hour prior. She is going to lose her mind from the suspense alone.

She still isn’t sure how she got herself into this mess. Dottore had captured her in the Hadramaveth desert shortly after they had managed to free Nahida from the Akademiya’s clutches. Lumine and Paimon had got separated in a nasty sandstorm in the process of tracking a group of Treasure Hoarders. The Doctor had found and personally blindsided her, capturing her almost effortlessly. He had kept her locked up here in his lab ever since.

In her time here, she had discovered that Dottore was surprisingly insatiable. Had you asked her what she thought of Dottore’s sexual habits in the past, she might have said he was celibate. Living only for his Science and Technology. And live for it he did…The man loved his experiments, and that extended to their relationship. She honestly still didn’t know what they were to each other. Was she still just another of his test subjects? He spent more time with her than the others, she reasoned. 

‘Am I more?’ 

Lumine starts as the door on the left creaks open and Dottore saunters into the room carrying two red pillar candles. He approaches the Traveler and stops once he reaches the nightstand. The man lights each candle with a small book of matches before setting them on the table.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, Darling.”

“I know you did it on purpose. I’m not stupid.”

“Oh? And why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a sadistic bastard. You have kept me locked up here for months!”

“I know. And you will remain mine until you've served your purpose.”

“Until I’ve served my purpose. …What happens then?”

“I am unsure. That should be left to the judgment of the hypothetical me confronted with that particular outcome.”

Lumine scoffed “I’m never going to stop trying to escape.”

“Given enough time, I believe you will. I have been studying you closely ever since your arrival, and I see how easily you succumb to me.” He smirked and carded his fingers through her hair.

Lumine grits her teeth and jerks her head away from him. She hates to admit it, but he is right. There is just something about this man in particular that she finds incredibly difficult to resist. ...and it both disgusts and fills her with excitement. She should not feel this way…but yet...she does. 

“It's okay my dear. I know you hate me but…you're just too much fun to pass up. Besides, you are quite valuable and I have learned quite a bit studying you thus far.”

She did hate him. Right? She should. This line of conversation was making her uncomfortable. Lumine turned her head away so she didn’t have to look at him and pulled halfheartedly on her restraints. Changing the subject, she speaks up. 

“My shoulders hurt.” 

“Do they? I promise you will forget about it very soon.” The Harbinger chuckles flashing his sharp teeth at the Traveler.

“What are you going to do?” 

“You will see. Darling…look at me.”

Slowly she does as the man asks. As soon as the woman’s eyes are on him, he plucks the mask from his face. Lumine always makes the same expression, and he loves seeing it. Dottore is no fool. He knows he is a handsome man, even with the scars crisscrossing his body. It’s just not something he generally puts a lot of pride into, preferring feats of the mind. …but seeing her reaction was always worth it. Her lips would pout just so. A light blush would dust her cheeks and the pupils of those golden eyes dilated. He chuckles darkly as he begins to undress. With each piece of clothing removed, he can swear her eyes dilate further. It is so adorable. 

Lumine licks her lips as her eyes slide down his naked body. It is really unfair how fit he is. The man spent almost all of his time in a lab but his body is lean and well-toned. She wonders how he keeps any kind of muscle mass. After what feels like an eternity to her, Dottore crawls onto the bed and over to her prone body.

“Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.” The man begins to kiss her collarbone, trailing kisses up her neck and nibbling on her earlobe. “Soon you won't be able to remember any of this unpleasantness. You'll just remember how good we felt together.”

Lumine sighed and tilted her head to the side to give him better access. The Harbinger is skilled in so many ways; this is just another one. He sensually licks back down her neck passing her collarbone and stopping at her breasts. The man takes them in his large hands and squeezes the flesh together. Chuckling, he presses his face between them and inhales deeply, enjoying the smell of her. 

“You're so beautiful, my Darling. Your skin is like honey and you smell divine. I love this scent...so warm and inviting.”

Lumine can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to her skin and circles her right nipple with his tongue sucking it into his mouth. He begins to leisurely suck on the buds and roll them between his teeth, giving equal attention to both. The woman flinches slightly and gasps at the sensations he is inflicting her with. Dottore’s teeth are sharp. He is never truly gentle, but she finds that she loves it this way. She doesn’t hate the sensation. It is both painful and beautifully stimulating. The Traveler shivers with each swipe of his tongue against her skin and moans as he plays with her. 

Suddenly, he moves away from her breasts and looks down at her with an evil grin. “Let's get you nice and warmed up.”

The man leans toward the table and snatches up one of the candles. Lumine’s eyes widen.

“You asked what we are going to do. We are going to test the limits of your sensitivity with a new kind of stimulation. Wax.”

“Dottore, I…” 

“Shhh. You’ll love it.” And with that, he tilted the candle just enough to allow the heated wax to pour from the tip and fall.

She looks down her body at the man as he tilted the candle. As it splashes against her skin, she winces and watches as the skin blooms pink from the heat. It is hot but, not unbearable. The wax creates a sort of itching fuzzy sensation across her skin and awakens feelings in her she hasn't realized she possessed. It is a new, but not unwelcome feeling. Lumine gasps as more wax spills from the candle and drips onto her sternum. Slowly it trails down her stomach pooling under her belly button and creating a puddle before it begins to harden.

“How does it feel?”

“It’s…different. But not…bad…”

The Harbinger smirks at her response. “...and what a beautiful blood color.” The man spills more wax across her stomach and she shivers in anticipation of what is to come. 

Lumine wiggles underneath him and yanks on her hands trying to get free so she can touch him. She wants to feel his skin too but he simply grins at her efforts. The man likes keeping her bound while they play. Getting this man to surrender control was like pulling teeth. The Traveler growls in frustration and thrashes harder.

“You're quite a handful, aren't you? But you're such a delightfully stubborn little girl. …I think I'll keep you for myself after all.”

His ruby eyes twinkle as he stares at her, waiting for her response. When she doesn't say anything, he reaches around and pulls her legs apart, settling himself between them. He drags her lower half into his lap, leaving her back still resting against the bed. With one hand he holds the candle close to her chest and drips wax directly onto her left nipple, causing it to grow hard and even more sensitive. With the other hand, he pinches her other nipple and watches her writhe beneath him. Lumine’s breathing quickens and she whimpers loudly. 

“It feels so good Dottore. Please...I….” She is unsure exactly what she wants. 

Dottore smirks at her words and gives her a light kiss on the lips, nipping them as he pulls away. “Did you forget your words?”

Lumine groans and turns her head to the side once more closing her eyes. “I…just…more please.”

“Of course my dear.” She can hear the laughter in his voice.

Rather than see the smug look on his face, Lumine keeps her eyes closed and just allows the sensations to wash over her. Heat blooms across her collarbone and trails down to her breasts where he takes extra care to stimulate both nipples. She bit her lip. The woman can feel herself getting wet as he covers her skin in more and more wax. The heat moves from her breasts to her sternum and trails lower and lower. 

Suddenly she can feel his free hand as he parts her and moments later a searing delicious heat blooms across her clit. Lumine can’t help it, her eyes fly open and she cries out in response. 

The Doctor laughs and leans down to give her another kiss. As he does, he pours more wax onto her pussy, causing it to swell from the stimulation. When he breaks off the kiss, he winks at her. The man leans back once more and slides a finger inside her, slowly beginning to thrust in and out. As he continues to tease her with the candle, her thoughts begin to fade.

“You're quite wet my dear. It seems you’re enjoying our little game.”

All of the stimulation is beginning to get to her and she moans as he slips a second finger into her cavern. The drag of his fingers inside of her and the blooming heat on her skin is already driving her up the wall. She looks down at herself and gasps at the view. Her skin is covered in vibrant splashes of red. If she didn’t already know better, she would think it was blood. 

As he continues to tease her, she lets her head fall back on the pillow. She can feel that coil deep inside of her winding up. Lumine allows a long sigh to escape her lips. 

‘Not long now.’ 

His fingers move expertly, thrusting and curling into the perfect spots. The man works her, carefully stoking her flames higher. He knows her body better than she does at this point. Dottore has spent so much time studying her. Leaning to the side, he places the still-burning candle on the nightstand. Now with his hand free he moves it back and begins to circle her clit with his thumb. Wax cracks and falls away as he teases her. 

Lumine is on cloud nine by this point. And she thrusts her hips up to meet his hands, chasing after her orgasm. She squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth. It is coming, she can feel it. Gasping she gyrates her hips in his lap.

Abruptly his hands leave her and she jerks violently in shock. “No! Dottore, Why?”

“Oh Darling, you know better than that.”

A sob escapes her lips. Yes, she did know. She should have expected it.

The man sits on his knees and lifts her lower half to position her so he could better enter her. Laughing, he takes his dick in his left hand and teases her entrance. Using his right thumb he makes sure to stimulate her clit just enough to keep her on the precipice. He won’t let her fall until he is ready. And he just sits like that. This slow torture goes on for what feels like an eternity to Lumine. In her current stupor, she honestly isn’t sure how long it lasted. But she does know it was too long. She often wonders how he has the will to do this. The man does this every time.

Finally, he relents and adjusts her hips before lining up with her entrance.

“Yes…!” Lumine hisses as he begins to sink into her inch by inch. She tries to thrust up to meet him but his hands are like iron holding her steady. Hearing her low hiss, the man shoots her a sharp-toothed smirk as he slides to his base. He stills to allow her some time to adjust to his size.

This is one of his few mercies. With their size differences, he can just about rip her in half. Dottore is surprisingly good at taking care of his toys. The ones he wanted to keep around anyway. 

As Lumine begins to relax, the Harbinger starts to thrust at a brisk pace. The man looms over her tiny frame. With each thrust, her body jars, and her breasts bounce. Moaning, he leans in and begins to nibble and lick the skin at the base of her neck. 

The woman tilts her head to give him more access and he gladly takes it. Raking his teeth along her carotid before biting down on the skin just below her right ear. It is one of his favorite spots to mark her. It is very visible and impossible to hide with her clothes. Even tying her scarf further up her neck refused to hide it completely. Thus, everyone in the lab knew who she belonged to and walked on eggshells around her. She hates the display but It did give her a modicum of privacy, which she appreciates.

She can feel the blood trickling down her neck from the wound as he begins to lap it up. The air is cool against the trails of saliva on her skin. It is almost shocking in comparison to the heat her body radiates. His tongue and teeth continue to glide across her soft skin. He stops occasionally to leave bright love bites all along her collar, shoulders, and breasts. The more he marks her, the happier he seems to be. 

Blue hair is stuck to the sweat of his neck and face and his earring swings as he moves. Dottore begins to pick up the pace pounding into her brutally. Broken moans are forced from her throat with each powerful thrust. The room is filled with the sounds of sex. 

Lumine knows she won’t be able to walk in the morning. She begins to quake from all of the stimulation. The coil inside has wound so tight now…and her vision is fading again. The world around her is a blur of orange, yellow, and blue light. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall with each jar of her body. She can feel him, every inch of him surrounding her and inside of her. It is overwhelming. Before too much longer, she feels the first twitches of his dick, indicating he is close. Once more, she tries to thrust to meet him but he holds her still, denying her.

“Dottore!”

“Shhhh. Just take it.”

She has no choice. The man continues to pound her into the mattress. Waves of pleasure crash over her in ever-increasing frequency. The woman squeezes her eyes shut. Her vision has long since tunneled. All she can see is the golden glow of his skin and that swinging blue light.

The man shifts, laying Lumine completely on the mattress before placing his hands on either side of her as he continues to thrust at a new angle. She arches into him. It is to much.

“A-Ah. D-Dottore, I can’t…I…” 

The coil snaps and her world explodes. White blooms behind her eyelids and a powerful wave of pleasure crashed over her forcing a sob of bliss from her lips. The Harbinger above her freezes as his own orgasm arrives. He thrusts as deep as he can and a deep guttural moan rips from his throat. She can feel the heat from his seed painting her insides and it pushes her over the edge again. Crying out, she yanks on her restraints so hard that the headboard cracks. The man collapses on top of her with a sigh and just lays there, spent.

After a moment, Lumine shifts uncomfortably. The man is heavy.

Sensing her distress, the Harbinger rolls off of her and onto his back by her side. 

“I knew you would love it.”

“Screw you.”

“Oh trust me, there is more to come. Both candles still burn.”

Lumine groans. “My shoulders still hurt.”

[thebluenickel]

A Court of Ribbons and Shadows Oneshot

THIS IS VERY, VERY NSFW. And also contains spoilers for A Court of Ribbons and Shadows. This is a direct scene grab from ACORAS written from Azriel's perspective, rather than Gwyn's.

For my ACORAS readers, this is Gwyn's turn in Poetry and Piety.

Enjoy :)

-----------

Azriel carries Gwyn the entire way across the Summer Court palace, not daring to set her back on her feet until they’re behind a closed and locked door. If she’s aware this is an abduction with intent to immobilize in blankets—she shows no sign. Gwyn lounges in his arms, her loose hair tickling at his neck.

            Her prism is a lazy, sleepy shade of blue as it trails behind them. Az’s shadows are whispering, demanding to take, touch—

            “Kickback,” he asks, knocking open the suite’s door, “One through ten.”

            Her eyes flutter open at the sound of the lock snapping shut. And her colors begin to shift—silver-blue and pink. Her little feet kick like she wants to be put down. “Ten,” she says.

            Way too high. Az sets her gently on the bed, not daring to jostle her—there’s nothing erotic about a headache, that’s for damn sure. Gwyn puts up a protest as he rolls her into a blanket, then another. The scowl on her face is not doing her any good. He wants that pouting lip between his teeth.

            “Compression,” he tells her, and the gruff note in his voice clears none of the suspicion in her eye, “It’ll bring your kickback down.”

            “I’m sure there are better ways to squish me into submission.”

            Azriel turns away to hide his smile. And hide from himself the way her arms and legs are beginning to search out a way to remove herself from her cozy confines. She won’t find one.

            He sheds his leathers in exchange for a softer shirt and the cotton pants she likes so much. Less likely to set off her kickback; more likely to end up removed. A color reaches out to bat at his hair and a shadow steals it away.

            Gwyn huffs. “Don’t forget whose turn it is, Shadowsinger.”

            He ties the laces of his pants tight and steps into the bathing room. The faint sound of her muttering follows him in. With those senses of hers, she can no doubt hear him snickering in response.

            He didn’t come in here for a reason. He sits on the lip of the tub, letting a shadow play through his hands for a minute, then two. The shadow slips up and ruffles his hair—as impatient as he is. But they wait, letting Gwyn work herself up to exactly where he wants her. Sensitive and snarky.

            The moment he steps out of the bathroom, teal eyes like wishing wells snap to him. A quiet growl sounds from the back of her throat.

            “Any better?” he asks, planting a knee on the mattress beside her. He knows she’ll lie. But she can’t hide the way she shivers as his fingers stroke across the sensitive skin of her neck. “So sensitive,” he coos sympathetically, a hand trailing the length of her body, “And completely immobile.”

            Her eyes narrow. “Get away from me.”

            He does not. Careful not to unpin a single corner of the blankets, he throws his leg over her, pinning her hips between his thighs. And he braces his weight on his forearms, holding himself just out of reach of her arching back.

            She wriggles, muttering a protest. Her prism is all pink and jade now, pleading for more in ways her snarky mouth refuses to.

            He brushes his lips against hers in glancing promise. A soft sound tears its way free from him at the taste of her—confection and crankiness.

            “I want to touch you, Az,” she murmurs.

            “In a minute.” In an hour, if she’s very good.

            Colors lash up into life, flickering. “It is not your turn.”

            “But I am not the one bound up.” He gives her another glancing brush and kisses her in the moment she opens her lips to complain again. She muffles out a whimper.

            And surrenders to him, sighing blissfully as he settles his weight against her. The tension of two weeks slides off his shoulders, his wings falling open around them—a curtain of red, casting her prism in his hue.

            She nips his lip sharply. He squeezes her hips tighter, a hand gently closing around her throat. Reminding her who needs to show their sweetest manners. She swallows against his palm, a nervous flush heating through her skin.

            Something tightens against his chest, and he doesn’t have the time to register it’s her prism before his world flips. He hits the bed on his back, bouncing from the force.

            Before he can catch his breath, Gwyn is on her feet—arms crossed, lips scowling, gaze devouring. Her colors are the indigo of a challenge accepted.

            “Too much?” he asks warily.

            “No.” She growls at him as he tries to reach for her. His hand freezes in midair. “It’s my turn, Azriel. Stay down.”

            He leans back against the headboard of the bed. Whether or not he’s down by her standards is answered by the domineering look on her face. If she wants a challenge; he’s happy to oblige her.

            “Take off your shirt.”

            He’s very happy to oblige her. He takes his time folding up his shirt and laying it on the bedside table. She cocks a brow at him, amused.

            Her prism noses and nuzzles at his bared skin. “Lay down,” she orders, “on your back. Wings open. Hands above your head.”

            A prickling heat skewers down his spine. That’s how they’re playing tonight—he can no longer differentiate apprehension from desire where Gwyn is concerned. Especially with wishing well eyes trailing evilly across his sensitive wings.

            He lays back on the bed, only opening his wings when she gives him a sharp warning. The joints are pinned open the moment his weight settles on them—she looks entirely too pleased by the way his wing twitches at the glancing brush of her fingers. Trying to close, trying to protect itself from her. Entirely unable to.

            He rests his arms up above his head comfortably, feigning serenity. His shadows and his cock are both giving him away.

            “I’m going to give you three choices, Az,” she says, dropping two sheets of parchment onto the pillow next to him. He glances over to read them, but they’re encoded. “First: do you want your hands bound or unbound?”

            A trick, a trick, his shadows warn. He knows, but he can never tell when she’s tricking him with an obvious trick to trick him into tricking himself. He hazards, “Unbound.”

            She smiles—dammit. “Second: pick a number between one and one-hundred.”

            An alarmed calculation spills through his head. A small number is obvious; a big number is dangerous—does she know how many times a male can come in a row? It’s most definitely not a double-digit number. “Twelve,” he blurts.

            “An even number,” she says, plucking up one of her encoded papers and folding it. The paper labeled with, one, leaving behind the page labeled with, two.

            “Little shit,” he grumbles—little shit for making him overthink that; absolute terror for using the bluffing techniques he taught her against him.

            “Size doesn’t always matter.”

            He snorts. Dammit. And he laughs.

            “Last choice, Az.” She holds up her list for him to see and puts a tally mark in the large blank space in the bottom corner of the parchment. “You have one tally mark. Every time you move your arms, I will add another.”

            His arms tense, half-expecting to pull against resistance—but, of course, he’s unbound.

            Gwyn grins at him. “But you get to decide what the tallies mean. Either: each tally is ten minutes, or each is one climax.”

            Either: he’s fucked, or he’s fucked. The lack of specification on the first option is no doubt a trap—one he refuses to fall for. With a growl, he decides, “Climax. You’re evil.”

            “We match.” She props herself up on the bed, swinging her leg over his prone body—mimicking him, taunting him—her weight settles a little too close and a little too far. His cock twitches; his arms twitch.

            He freezes. This is far too early to be struggling.

            “Let’s begin,” she says. And all of her colors shift, swirl. Illusions take form as—feathers. Exact copies of the one he pulled on her, but a hundred of them. All hovering menacingly over his wings.

            He puts up an immediate protest, threatening, “I will pay you back for this, Gwyn.”

            The feathers drift and sway and stop, directly above the membrane. There they hover, waiting for just the right moment to strike. He watches from the corner of his eye, tight with anticipation. That slick softness against his wings—no, that won’t make him come. It’ll likely drive him irreparably mad if he doesn’t shake it off instantly. Like electricity.

            The more he tenses up, the more he’s sure it’s hopeless.

            Gwyn lowers the feathers onto his wings and lets them simply rest there. The weight of them isn’t enough for him to quite feel anything. He narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, his wings twitching—and he’s tickled by every single feather as they shift.

            A short shock, over before he can gasp in a breath. “Fuck you,” he groans. “That’s a good immobilization technique.”

            “You like it?”

            “No,” he growls.

            She very, very delicately taps her nails against his stomach. And drags the soft sensation up his torso in searching lines, finding all the little places he tries to shift out from beneath her touch. He freezes, refusing to give her more to use against him.

            Her nails drag back down, agonizingly gentle. He’s distinctly aware that tickling is something she’s cursed at him for more than once—he likely earned this. Doesn’t change how much she’s going to regret this the moment her turn is over. He’ll tie her up; he’ll get every inch of her skin awake and screaming for his touch; and he’ll make her come off of nothing more than the soft bristles of a brush.

            He blows out a slow breath as her nails trail back up his torso, and back down. Each time she repeats the stroke, he hates it viscerally more. She won’t stop until she wins.

            He’s not going to make this easy for her. Even as she shifts higher, taking those soft touches to his arms. His breath catches—it sounds loud in the quiet room. And she drags her nails all the way back down to his waist. All the way back up—

            Steady and slow and inescapable.

            “It’s not working, Gwyn,” he taunts.

            She raps her nails against his chest. “I’m only just getting started.” And she rolls off of him.

            The respite is not what he hoped it would be—his skin is tingling in demand for any kind of actual touch. And Gwyn is standing at the foot of the bed. He has an instant, sharp flash of an image of her reaching towards his foot, and he nearly calls it on that. He’ll let her win; he doesn’t care.

            But she crawls up onto the mattress, her hands reaching out straight for the laces of his pants. He goes carefully blank, hiding away the thundering need in his head. He thought she intended to torture his wings the whole night—but gods, he’d kill for her hand on his cock again.

            She grabs the legs of his pants and rips them off him in one movement. He nearly reaches for her on no other instinct than asking if she’s sure about this. The feathers on his wings give him a jolt of a reminder not to move.

            She certainly looks confident about this as she straddles his thighs, her hands trailing up his skin—her face flushes pink, her eyes darkening. She doesn’t look away from his cock for a second as she skirts directly past.

            She repeats the delicate torture of her nails, this time on the sensitive skin of his hips. His muscles clamp down in protest, and the feathers shift.

            He curses at her, and again. She knows she has him with this—she’s watching him with a taunt in her eyes as she moves up and down and up and down. Until there’s nothing more left of his mind to fight her, and he grabs for her hands, growling at her, you win; you win.

            She removes the tickling touch, reprimanding, “Hands.”

            Settling back in, he glowers at her but makes no more comment. She wants him wound up; she’ll get wound up. But he’s giving her none of the satisfaction of her point in their game. He’ll get the point back easily enough.

            No brushes—he’s going to tie her hands to the headboard and keep her coming on his hand until she gives up trying to squirm away from him. Until she realizes, even with her legs free, she can’t escape. That the taunt is in the unnecessary restraints; and the threat is in the false freedom.

            Gwyn glances over at him as she strikes another tally mark onto her list. Her breathing is sharper, shorter—she heard that plan in his mind. He turns to lock his eyes with her, promising her she’ll get her dues just as soon as she gives him back the control. Her throat moves at a swallow, and her colors flash a blistering jade of arousal.

            A shadow slips into her hand as she sits upright, depositing a cube of ice into her palm and fluttering off obediently. Traitor, he growls at the shadow. It hides behind a jade. Gwyn smiles.

            Without any of the tenderness from her last torment, she reaches out and sets the ice cube down unceremoniously on the membrane of his wing. He’s numb for the briefest moment, then the cold lashes through him. Straight to his bones.

            “Gwyn, get that off my wing.”

            She looks over her shoulder at something and murmurs, “Sorry, I just forgot something.” Without a second glance at the ice on his fucking wing, she hops off of him, dropping to her feet on the floor and padding deeper into the room. “Hold on,” she says, and there’s a rustle of her moving things around, “I know I left it over here somewhere.”

            He desperately tries to shake the ice off and only succeeds in shifting all the feathers. A groan rattles through his shivering body. If he moves his arms right now, he’s giving up on their game. He’s pinning her to the bed and taking that ice cube to her skin.

            “You little shit,” he mutters. And he doesn’t move his arms. Half the fun of Gwyn is the wanting—the minutes and hours she leaves him wanting to touch her, torture her into those sweet, pleasured sobs.

            The other half of the fun is doing it when she’s got him wound up just right. If this is to be only the beginning of his night—she must be wanting something special when she’s done.

            “Found it,” she announces, holding up a long, thin ribbon for him to see.

            He has three immediate ideas what she’s intending to do with that and none of them are good. But he waits for her to situate herself back on the bed and growls for the ice to be removed. She ignores him.

            The ribbon slips between his cock and his stomach, and she loops it around the base. Then another loop and she begins to tie it off. Azriel can’t think of the words to protest—he can’t imagine how she knows to do such a thing. His body ceases it’s shivering, pinpoint concentrated on that tightening—

            “What are you doing.”

            She glances at him through her lashes. “I did some research on your anatomy. Does this hurt?” He shakes his head, and she continues, “I want to be sure you can’t get ahead of my game.”

            “I’m definitely not going to come with ice on my wing.”

            “Oh, sorry,” she simpers.

            The ice is mercifully removed, leaving a prickling square of wing half-numbed. Droplets of water slide down Gwyn’s hand and wrist, and she flicks them onto the membrane. His wings twitch discontentedly; the feathers shift.

            She frowns down at the remaining cube of ice in her palm, glances down at his body, calculatingly. And she asks, “Could you melt this a bit more for me?”

            The ice presses directly to the head of his cock. His body lurches unhappily—his arms remain pinned, but he absolutely will not withstand that for long.

            “That won’t work,” he says, too tightly. “That won’t work.”

            She rubs the ice around—and he almost laughs; she’s an absolute terror and he fucking loves her. “Aren’t you supposed to be warmer down here?” she asks, jadedly, “I thought this would go faster.”

            He seethes at her, “You are going to regret this.” And he whimpers, not managing to catch the pitiful sound in time—because he’s never made it before; he didn’t know he could make that sound. Gwyn’s eyes light up curiously, the ice pressing a bit harder like she wants to hear that sound again. He finally grabs for her, pushing away the cold.

            She adds her next tally mark; his hands return to their positions without need for another reprimand. The ice is still in her hand. And she shifts up his body to rest her hips against his stomach and reach out to touch his wings—

            “Come on, Gwyn,” he pleads, “No more of the ice.”

            She makes a soft, soothing sound. “It’s alright, love. You’ll like this.”

            The ice glances across the membrane of his wing, leaving a glistening trail of frigid water in its wake. Gwyn leans over, one hand braced on his chest and drawing gentling circles. Heat breathes across his wing—

            She swipes her tongue up and up the line left by the ice, sweeping away the cold and replacing it with the pleasure of her mouth. He groans—low and animal, desperate for more.

            She chooses a different spot on his wing and repeats. Ice, heat. Ice, heat. Over and over as the shivers turn to shudders, the melting heat stealing away the apprehension of the cold. He’s definitely taking a cube of ice to her at the next available opportunity—it’s surprisingly nice when she’s nice about it.

            The ice melts away entirely and she sprinkles water onto him again. He doesn’t complain. The cold shock not soothed over is the only thing clearing his mind as her hand moves to hover just above his throbbing cock.

            “Say please,” she purrs.

            Little shit. “Please,” he grits out.

            “Nicer.”

            “Please.”

            The slim, narrow pleasure of a stroke moves down the entire length of his cock—the pad of her pointer finger tracing the lines and shape. He tries to arch into it for more, but her weight is once again pinning his thighs.

            Fascination takes over her wishing well eyes. She strokes him again, watching as his helpless body twitches for her. His wings ripple; the feathers tickle—he clamps his hands into fists to ground himself.

            “Gwyn, please,” he tries; he begs.

            She glances at his face like she forgot he had one. And her hand wraps tight around the head of his cock. That simpering little quirk to her lips is a taunt like no other as pleasure hammers against his spine. He’s never been so deeply under another’s control than right here, beneath her.

            He gasps quietly, moans softly. As if in reward, she strokes him just the way he likes.

            Pressure disappears from his body—he entirely forgot about the ribbon—and he smells the vanilla of an illusion. She didn’t have to get up and get it; she illusioned the damn thing. Diabolical smartass.

            Her hand twists experimentally and moves the entire length down and up his cock. His wings twitch in response, the feathers shifting—even that feels like pleasure now that it’s paired against her hand around him.

            “That’s good,” he murmurs, “So good, Gwyn.”

            Any hesitancy to her touch dissolves as she finds more and more ways to tear him into tiny pieces. His head tips back into the pillows as his body winds tighter. She treats his exposed throat to a soft touch—he can’t tell if it’s her nails or her prism.

            Her voice pierces through the haze, “Come now,” and it’s like a fist releasing deep inside him. A climax snaps through him, whip-sharp, before he can prepare for it. His groan chokes in his throat, but still sounds loud in the room.

            Her hand slows and stops without chasing aftershocks—that mercy should be a sign that this is about to get worse, but he’s serenely drifting in all the things she just did to him. Surely it can’t be that bad.

            Gwyn clambers off the bed again, and he almost protests at the loss of her body heat. She reaches for the hem of her shirt, pauses, locks eyes with him, and pulls it off with a flourish. His body responds too quickly for his mind to catch up.

            His head is a big, empty canyon; his thoughts a whooshing of wind.

            He almost reaches for her—soft skin, handfuls of hips, blushing pink—but she’s already going to work removing the rest of her clothing. That’s a very bad sign. He doesn’t know why yet, but he knows it is. The shadow cleaning him off is also entirely disconcerting.

            As soon as she’s undressed, she swings herself up over him again. This time, she lodges a leg between his so she doesn’t have to straddle the entire width of his body. Still—he can see how badly she wants him; he can taste it.

            “Not your turn, Shadowsinger,” she reminds him, noting the direction of his gaze. “You still have two to go.”

            He’s hard again—he can take another climax easily. The last one might ache if she doesn’t give him a minute of downtime. Somehow he doubts she knows or cares that his body has stricter limitations than hers. He probably earned this with his last turn.

            He hisses at the first touch of her hand. And that must urge her on, because she strokes him harder, faster than she did before. There must be some illusion at play, keeping her hand slick. He thinks he would have noticed if she’d spit into one of those tiny, magic hands of hers. He might have lost the remainder of his empty mind at the sight.

            There’s no keeping a lock on the sounds he’s making now. Breathless praise, desperate cursing as the feathers on his wings melt back into colors and begin to swirl caresses against him. His mind-whites, and he comes.

            Another whimper rips from his mouth. A soft, whining plea of a moan—he doesn’t know what he’s pleading for. He sounds like a wounded animal.

            Gwyn doesn’t stop stroking him as his climax hits a blistering peak and begins to subside. His entire body is trembling, but she doesn’t relent. Through his squeezed shut eyes, he doesn’t see her moving. But he feels a breath coast across his skin just before her snarky, confectionary mouth closes around his cock.

            Her tongue laves against his skin, her lips exploring all the ways she can fit around him. He jolts, the game going out the window in a heartbeat as a lashing sensation moves through him—too sharp to be pleasure, too pleasurable to be pain. He delves a hand into her hair, pulling lightly.

            “Please, please, a second, give me a second,” he begs, even as she releases him. She allows him to guide her away from the ache she just created, and she crawls up his body. Her weight, her warmth—all that bare, soft skin settles against him.

            Like warm water closing over his head. He can drown in this. He can die like this.

            His eyes drift closed in the peace she’s granting him. And he squeezes her hip in his free-hand. He doesn’t know how long she’ll allow this; he’ll make the best of it. “Please,” he whispers again, and she kisses him softly, “Please, please.”

            She murmurs soothingly to him between drowning kisses. He keeps pleading with her, trying to keep her here as long as possible. He likes this—he really fucking likes this. A fantasy is drifting through his mind of something near exactly like this. But he’s on top, and she’s stuffed so full of him—

            A scratch of pen on parchment wakes him back to reality. Another tally mark.

            “Damn you.”

            “Put your hands back where they belong,” she orders.

            With a groan, he releases her. She watches him sharply, searching for any reason to add to her tally marks. Her eyes drift back to his cock and widen. Her mind whispers surprise—so she does know the limitations of a male body; she’s simply ignoring them.

            “You have no idea how bad I want you,” he says, his rough, raw voice leaves no room to doubt him, “Every second of every day. Half the time—” he grits his teeth as she leans down to blow a cold breath against the heated skin of his cock “—I don’t know if I want your body or your company. Hearing you laugh, hearing you moan—it’s all the same anymore.”

            She drags her gaze up and up his body until they lock eyes. “Say please.”

            “Please.”

            She strokes him with her tongue.

            “Please, Gwyn.”

            She hums out a soft, pleased sound that vibrates through him. He’s about to plead again when the velvet warmth of her mouth wraps around his cock. He switches to praises as she experiments on him—trying to find her rhythm. She could probably bite him, and he’d find a way to come from it.

            She sucks, and his head fills with static. She flicks her tongue, and he whimpers for her again. There’s a sensation of being chased the entire time—like he should be running from the building pressure, but it’s already inside him. He can’t escape it; he wouldn’t want to.

            No matter how much of his mind is obliterated. He warns her before he comes, and she makes a sound against him that might be understanding or demand. She doesn’t slow down until he obediently gives in to her. Her prism on his wings bursts silver-blue all at once, splashing the room in a starlit glow.

            She swallows around him, and he doesn’t know if his eyes cross or roll back into his head, but the world goes dark and hazy for a second. It pops back into focus at the sound of his cock slipping from her mouth.

            She sits up to survey the conquering she’s done to him. And she licks her lips. “One more.”

            “Wait—wait.” His command works like magic, stilling her in place. Big, guileless teal eyes flick up to his face, her prism turning pink. That’s adorable. “You never specified whose climax each of those tally marks represents.”

            A blush sweeps up her throat, her hips shifting like she wants to grind down against his thigh. “You think you can make me come without moving your hands or using your—” her confidence muffles “—cock?”

            Adorable. And pink and wet and—

            Her eyes go wide at the motion of his head, coaxing her to move up to his mouth. He narrows his eyes at her. “You tasted me,” he says, “Did you like that?”

            She nods timidly.

            “It’s my turn.”

            Her colors are turning faintly maroon, but jade is spilling over them. She stammers for a moment. “I don’t want to—sit on you,” she protests.

            Az is going to lose his wits. “Please do,” he begs. He’s seeing paradise behind his eyes, and he wants to make it a reality post and haste.

            “That’s dangerous.”

            “You won’t suffocate me. Just come here, Gwyn.” He simpers out a perfect, “Please?”

            Her eyes hood irascibly. And with a motion at her body, she offers, “Go ahead.”

            “Is this a trick.”

            “No. You can move your arms—” her words break into a yelp as he sits up, grabbing her thighs to pin her in place. She squirms at the grip a little, her eyes going a bit wild—like she’s realizing she just let go of his leash without quite enough forethought.

            He moves her into place and adjusts a pillow before settling back onto the bed. She looks down nervously at him between her thighs, her legs squeezing a bit. That instinct to hide away from him is rearing its head. He’ll have none of that.

            The angle she’s holding herself at won’t do either. He pulls at her thighs, not hard enough to force her down, just wearing her energy out—even her thighs can’t hold that position for long. Pretty thighs, pillowy, downy. He rubs his cheek against the softness. And feels the moment her muscles begin to shake from the strain.

            He yanks her down onto his mouth. Her hand sinks into his hair, and there’s a thunk as she grabs for the headboard. Then a long, muffled moan at the first touch of his tongue. Her legs squeeze again like she wants to hide.

            He slips his hand around to part her for him, using his arm to pin her down. He explores every inch of her in a long, slow drag—listening to the sounds she makes, finding all the places she’ll curse him for using against her later.

            The hand in his hair grips down sharply, then releases. Almost apologetically, she strokes at the strands. Her taste in his mouth; her nails scraping at his scalp—he’s never letting her up again. It’s his turn again the moment she comes. And he’ll throw out every one of his plans just to stay here for a good, long while. He can already place bets on how many climaxes it’ll take for her to lean against that headboard for support.

            She grinds down against his mouth and immediately begins to apologize.

            But he moves back up to her apex, flicking his tongue at the nerves. She gives a high-pitched moan—the one that sounds alarmed; he fucking loves that sound. With little more than the pressure of his lips wrapping around her apex, she comes.

            He draws at the nerves, hard enough to drag her pleasure out, gentle enough not to hurt her. A series of breathless whimpers echoes through the room and she goes quiet. Ready for more, then.

            He dares to release her with one hand to get his fingers involved in this—and she rolls off of him, tumbling out on the covers. Maybe she hears his mind whisper, dammit, or she’s giddy with pleasure. She starts giggling. With her hair haloed out around her and the soft glow of bliss on her skin, she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

            She always is. But it smacks him in the face like a slap.

            His shadows slip through him, cleaning away the taste of her, to his chagrin and her relief. She nearly pulls back from his kiss before she realizes his lips are dry.

            He rolls over top of her, very carefully. They’re both naked, and he’s hard again—he refuses to allow panic anywhere near the blissful, sleepy softness seeping into her. But her mind is blank of even an acknowledgement of their position. Her end of the connection is whirring loudly, but without a hint of fear.

            “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asks.

            He laughs before he can quite stop it. And lets her yank his weight down against her by an arm hooked around his neck. She hums a pleased sound, her head falling back into the pillows and exposing her neck to him. Turnabout, Fair Play—

            “No,” he whispers hoarsely, “I already want more.”

            “Maybe tomorrow, Shadowsinger.” She laces her fingers through his hair, smoothing down the ruffling she did to it. Her eyes flick open to spear him with a sharp, assessing look. “Did I go too far?”

            He shakes his head. “You’re a mischievous little shit. I love it.”