#slaying and stealing hearts

[wheatcak3]

silly goofy rocker nameless bard 🥰✨✨

[cometblaster2070]

i wish they kept this scene because cynthia looks so unbelievably good in this like???? ik everyone would've been SCREAMING this is so unfair the cut content makes me cry.

[divineandmajesticinone]

JACK & JOKER: U STEAL MY HEART! I EP. 2

[yeonbam]

girl joke would've slayed in the acting/modelling industry if his father wasn't suffering from STEM superiority complex (which is why he thinks anything that's not becoming a doctor is a failure 💀)

remember when joke just freehanded at the modeling gig and gagged jack so hard

he invented joker to act out spontaneous and silly little roles every week as a treat and never got caught until he let himself be seen like... imagine if this psycho was given the training and environment for honing his skills in that sphere... he would end everyone.

[theaonlax]

Hawks🦅🦅🦅

but Figure Skater AU lets goooo

[boxwinebaddie]

shoutout to my therapy group session leader told me to write something as an exercise so please enjoy my hero, Klepto Jersey

[the-travelling-witch]

omg skz’s new album is fucking good ahhhhhhh

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul (Here) | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits you steal:

Plan-Books (Inherited) : Riddle habitually carries a planner with all his tasks. A physical one, not an app in his cell phone like most students choose. You find it easier to manage and swap to paper-and-pen alternatives at his recommendation.

Tidiness (Inherited): Riddle is a nit-pickier when it comes to physical presentation. His habits of pressing his uniform, laying his clothes out every night, and dressing conservatively rub off. He has a point - ironed trousers do make a difference. Every morning he will redo your uniform tie. It's never knotted to his 'standard', and is his preferred excuse to greet you before class.

"Now, isn't that better? Surely you are more comfortable in ironed linens than those rags you'd been wearing as pajamas. You seriously found them lying in Ramshackle? Were you not given an allowance to buy basic needs? Ridiculous! The Headmaster's irresponsibility holds no bounds!" <- Utterly appalled that you've been sleeping in century-old robes. He supplies you with seven sets of pajamas, a spare uniform, and an iron + board for Ramshackle. All after reaming the Headmaster for neglect in the last dorm-head meeting - either Crowley coughed up the marks or Riddle will supply from his own bank. Seven have mercy if he chooses to become a lawyer instead of a doctor.

No Heels (Developed): Riddle has a height complex. He won't make a show of it, but you wearing heels does emasculate him. Especially if you're already taller naturally. For his sake, you choose to slay your outfits in flats.

"Are those new loafers? Oh - no, they're lovely. The embroidery is exquisite and I can see why Pomefiore's Housewarden models for their brand. I merely thought you preferred the heeled saddle-shoes we saw during the past weekend trip. I must have been mistaken. Never mind me. You look wonderful."

Playing Brain Teasers (Inherited): Riddle has this thing with memory - you don't know if he's really into preventing old-age Alzheimer's or what. He carries a book of teaser games like Sudoku, etc. for when he has downtime and you eventually get into them too.

"Oh! My Rose, would you care to join me for lunch? Trey's siblings recently mailed in a large collection of cross-words. You'll find they are both educational and entertaining - hm? I do not seem the 'type' for word-games? I assure you, even I can relax on occasion. There is no need to look so surprised." <- Riddle's been making a grand effort to do things he enjoys and become more personable. Trey's siblings did not send the collection. Riddle went into town and picked it out on his own. He also found a book on organizing excursions since he's big on quality time. He is dead-set on not being a neglectful or 'boring' partner.

Swear Jar (Developed): Tired of Riddle collaring Ace for his vulgar tongue, you suggest a Heartslabyul swear jar. When the jar gets filled, the money can be used to fund things like study materials and renovations for the dorm. Riddle liked this idea, but now implements it on anyone who sets foot in the Heartslabyul. Considering you spend most of your time there, you've had to develop a vast vocabulary beyond swearing. Oh - you also unironically use the word 'fiddlesticks' now.

Habits he steals:

Useless Expenses (Inherited): You are an enabler without a doubt. Riddle has always functioned with the bare bones - with function and efficiency being the number one priority. Ever so slowly - you've spoiled him with aesthetically pleasing stationary. At first all the needless purchases felt redundant - why buy the pillowcases with flowers when plain white is cheaper? You can invest in a higher quality this way. Yet you've ruined him with gifts that he had no choice but to use. Now he needs to buy the pens with little hedgehogs on them because studying doesn't feel the same with a plain ballpoint.

Slang Dictionary (Developed): With each passing day, all the students in Heartslabyul get more creative at bending the rules. That includes you. Riddle takes it upon himself to carry a 'little-black-book' full of all the sang words he is unfamiliar with. He does want to be a bit more 'hip' to understand you more, but at the same time he wants to bust any student being a smart-mouth. It's an ongoing battle *sigh*.

"Apologies, could you repeat that term for me? Surely it must be relevant to my lecture if you and Ace are whispering. 'Let him cook'? Do you think we are in a culinary lecture?! Have you not been listening to - ah. So it's in reference to letting me finish before interrupting...One moment. I need to make a note."

Chewing Gum (Developed): This is an ode to psychology. In short, eating is tied to a person's fight-or-flight. Instincts dictate that our bodies need to be in a calm state to eat comfortably. One day when Riddle was at his wits end, you tossed him a pack of sugarless gum and told him to chew. Disregarding Trey's unholy dental screeching, Riddle develops a gum dependence for when he's stressed out. On the bright side, his jaw has never been so sharp.

“Mimicry? You must be mistaken. Even if my influence has affected their person, surely there are only positive developments” == Riddle denies any changes if confronted. In truth, he’s well aware of how much you’ve helped him grow. It’s the opposite accusation that spikes concern. Riddle does not want others thinking you’re a mini-version of him. Rumors are not kind and neither is his current reputation. Making those amends is his burden to bare. He is flattered to see you paying attention to his mannerisms, and secretly proud that your bond is strong enough to affect the psyche.

Habits you steal:

Whistling (Inherited): Trey whistles while working in the kitchen or doing general chores around the dorm. He's not very loud with it, so not may students are bothered. Since you laze about in his shadow the tunes he goes through do become repetitive. Now you do the same when cleaning up Ramshackle. Grim wants to knock you both out because he can't take it anymore.

"Ah -- How'd you know it was me in here? Just because I bake for the un-birthday parties doesn't mean I live in the kitchen, you know. My whistling? Huh. Never thought that would be my calling card but there are worse things, haha"

Head-Scratching (Inherited): Trey's got a habit of scratching the back of his head when he's uncomfortable or nervous. That, or rubbing at the nape of his neck while adverting eye contact. You start doing this too whenever you're being scolded or put in a tough situation.

Dental Hygiene (Inherited): By far the most obvious shared trait. Trey enforces his dental habits onto everyone- you are no exception. You now own four different kinds of floss, two toothbrushes (one being electric), and have a strict hygiene routine. Your pearly whites have never been so clean. Eventually you become somewhat of a secondary enforcer, policing anyone who sleeps over your dorm to take care of themselves before bed. All of Heartslabyul learns that there is no going back when you scold Riddle for not brushing after his teatime tart, and live to tell the tale.

"Hey - uh, weird question? Were you handing out floss to the Spelldrive Team yesterday? Seriously? I though Grim was pulling my leg - oh, no! It's not weird at all! Those guys should have a better routine for all the meat they eat when bulking. I'm just shocked you got through to them." <- Very proud. Mildly cocky. He's been itching to get those negligent jocks to floss after their banquets his entire tenure, but steered away from that conflict like the plague. Thank you for making his dreams come true. Now if you could maybe get them to stop picking their gums with toothpicks?

Habits he steals:

Overbuying Food (Developed): Being a baker's son, Trey's good with finances and money. He's also meticulous with the ingredients he purchases for his bakes. You are not. You go to Sam's shop, buy whatever is on sale, and then bring it back home to improvise. This ends poorly more often than not, and behold! Trey has two Ramshackle sluggers snooping around his kitchen for eats. This is unpredictable and therefore he now never knows what amount to buy. You've ruined him.

Phone Calls (Developed): Texting is easier. Especially since phone calls can be a commitment that Trey dislikes being wrapped up in. Whenever Cater's name pops up as the caller, Trey knows he's getting an ear full. The thing is that you never. answer. your. phone. Either the text gets lumped in with the hundreds of missed messages you have, or Grim stole your cell to play mobile games. So Trey gives up and only ever calls. Either Grim will answer or you'll pick up thinking it's the snooze of your alarm.

"Hello? Prefect, where are you? It's me, Trey. Just calling to see if you're still coming to the Un-Birthday party? Riddle's getting a bit nervous since the schedule's set for the next hour. Grim's already here with Ace and Deuce - uh, want Cater to send a double to pick you up? I have a sinking feeling that you're asleep...Call me? Please?" <- He was correct. You called back not a moment after, half-asleep and hauling ass not to be late.

Speaking in Propositions (Inherited): Trey's normally good at keeping neutrality in a conversation, but getting a clear answer out of Yuu you is like solving a rubix cube. Either it's easy and instant, or a long game. Eventually your habit of indecisiveness rubs off on him and he asks questions more than answers them. Evidently this gets his younger classmen to stop asking for favors unless they really need to.

“Aha - really? I didn’t notice at all. Okay. Okay, I picked up on a few hints. What’s so wrong with them taking after me? It’s cute, right?” == Trey is the observant sort that picks up on his influence quickly. Not just anyone carries floss in their pocket at all times - and the looks from his dorm-mates when you offer some up is enough for the realization to click. Trey’s used to playing the respectable sort, and finds it endearing that you’re taking his good notes to heart. In truth, most of Trey’s mimicry is intentional. He’s a flexible guy who doesn’t mind altering his habits to fit your needs. Easier this way, y’know?

Habits you steal:

Speaking in Acronyms(Inherited): Now this is scary. The first time it happened, you had to take a pause and just re-evaluate your entire life. You don't use them nearly as often as Cater does, but somewhere along the line your brain must have rewired to speak in internet lingo. O-M-G you're TOTALLY twinning with him right now, period :)

Nicknames (Inherited): Again, frightening. You once swore against ever calling him Cay-Cay. It isn't very slay-slay. Yet you can only hear him use nicknames for so long until you're unconsciously calling people by them too. Especially since he's always dishing gossip. It starts in your head, which is fine. It's not like they know. Then you call Lilia 'Lils' and that old fart is just grinning behind his sleeve because ohoho~ young love <3

"Did you just- AHA! OMG DO IT AGAIN?! Wait, gotta get my camera out for this - wha? Oh, that's totes not fair! C'mon. Call me Cay-Cay. Just once! I won't even post it to Magicam, please? Lils won't believe me without proof! Pleasssssseeeee - " <- He actually doesn't want you to call him Cay-Cay all the time. Cater likes you using his given name, since it's more personal. Although the way it obviously slipped out on accident is just too cute to ignore.

Reality TV (Inherited): At first you don't like the gossip. It's cheesy, a bit annoying, and the shaky camera-work for nearly every show is headache inducing. Cater likes his dose of drama in his free-time, and Ramshackle has a tv that no one is using. It starts with him watching while you do other things around the dorm. Yet each time you pass the living area, you take longer to leave. Lingering around like one of the ghosts. Then he pulls you in with snacks and starts giving the low-down of what's going on, pulling out a bottle of tangerine shimmer polish to paint your nails. It's just one episode, watch it for him? Please? Oh no. No. No. Suddenly you're invested in who's the baby-daddy of little Ricky and what Chantel is going to do because her sister just lost the house to foreclosure.

"#KingdomOfDeadbeats - am I right? Ugh. I'm so glad we met if that's the dating scene back home...What?! I know it isn't real! Don't be a dummy, I was just joking! Ah! Stop! Don't hit me!" <- Half-hearted jokes about going on one of those talk-shows one day. You're an alien, after all - imagine the juicy drama and views his account would get from doing an interview? It's all jokes though. Cater likes spilling the tea, but hates being it. Don't ever abandon him and go out for milk though, kay? He doesn't want to pay Grim's child support. Otherwise he might have no choice smh

Habits he steals:

Phone/Web Games (Inherited): Cater's phone is mainly full of social media. He's not too into the gaming scene, it's not his peeps y'know? Alas, you download a few dress-up games and one MMO on his phone. First off - props on getting his phone. That's Cay-Cay's lifeline and not just anyone gets to play with it. Pray tell - what is this Wonderstar Planet (props if you know what is being ref.) and how can he become the most influential digital streamer on it? Congrats. He's addicted.

"Who's this Muscle Red and why's he bombing our raid - AH! He just tea-bagged me! So not cool...Prefect? STOP LAUGHING WE HAVE BETS ON THIS MATCH! There goes my collab opportunity, big fail" <- Muscle Red continues to make an appearance. Eventually he becomes Cater's official rival on stream, and Lils is all to invested in the tea cater drops during club meets. Side note. You're the one who gave 'muscle red' Cater's domain code. The lore thickens.

Internet Caution (Developed): This goes without saying, but Cater's well-known in the Magicam scene. He's very forward and knows his way around using charisma. Since you're not in the scene as much, he becomes more cautious of where and when he does streams. The change is so subtle that only the most observant people will pick up on it - but Cay-Cay doesn't want any creepos popping in if y'know what I'm saying. His sisters were the ones to instigate this change.

“Awe~ SRSLY?! That’s fresh news to my ears but good, right? Ne, are there any clips or pics? I need my evidence, y’see. Especially if my cutie is off taking notes from their one and only. C’mon, spill the tea!” == Cheeky Cater is well aware of what’s happening. He’d humor anyone out for some light teasing - after all, he isn’t by your side at all hours. His walls are probably the second most difficult in all of campus to bypass, so he’s both sweetened and nerved to see you picking up on his mannerisms. That’s proof of a strong attachment, after all.

Habits you steal:

Knuckle Cracking (Inherited): Deuce still does this from his biker days. It could be because joint pain from past fights, or possibly air retention in his knuckles from studying. Regardless, Deuce cracks his knuckles at least once every few hours and you began to mimic him. Some people groan at the popping sounds but it really does feel good to release the tension. Let's just hope neither of you dislocate any fingers on accident.

"Stop that! G-geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Thought you broke a finger...your hands are stiff? That just means you're studying a lot! I think...uh, let's break? I think there's some leftovers in the kitchen." <- Deuce 100% gets needing to pop those air bubbles. His hands get stiff from studying all the time, but don't crack them too much or you might dislocate something. Side note - he shows you how to wrap your fingers with a soothing salve. He used to do it after fights, but now it's a great help after class.

Double Notes (Developed): Deuce tries. He really does. Yet the lad just isn't great when it comes to book smarts. Seeing that he is dedicated to turning over a new leaf, you make a habit of copying all your notes. He isn't allowed to share them with Ace or Grim - else all bets are off. Sometimes you leave little 'good job' stickers on the last page for him. Is he a toddler? No. Does he peel the stickers off and save them? Totally. He is a good noodle. Suck it Ace.

Sewing (Developed): He breaks things. Most of the time it's an accident. You've learned to carry a mini-sewing kit for all the rips in Deuce's uniform. Same for mini remedies for stains and other problems. It's not like he's trying to get grass stains all over his under-shirt or to split the seam in his gloves (nearly every week). It just happens, and every time he comes to you with a kicked-puppy look with a promise of it being the last time. It is never the last time.

"Uhm...hun'? It happened again. I'm so sorry for bothering you but Housewarden is going to kill me if he sees the tear in my blazer! Can you fix it?! I can't handle another collar with my exam tomorrow! I need to breathe to focus! - really!? I owe you one! Snacks are on me tonight."

Habits he steals:

Bottomless Stomach (Developed): Have leftovers from dinner? Bring them over. He'll get the tubba-ware back in 1-2 days. Coupon for buy-one-get-one at Sam's? He'll take the extra and polish it off in less than a minute. Deuce becomes a human garbage disposal and is taking the unwanted condiments off your sandwich to eat. Just pick them off and leave 'em on the corner of his lunch plate. Even if he dislikes it, he'll down it so you don't have to.

"Mm. Oh, thanks hun' - its that all you're eatin'? You don't like the steam bun? It is a bit dry, but wasting food is disrespectful to the cooks! I'll finish it for you so have my fruit instead. You still need to eat" <- 10/10 very thoughtful and not picky at all. He is grateful to eat your cooking and will gobble up all leftovers at Ramshackle, but doesn't think twice to sharing meals in the cafeteria. He will notice though if you do not eat enough. Restocks the snack cabinet if he sees it's empty. Is touched if you routinely share things you know he enjoys, like saving half your frittata on purpose.

Early Riser (Inherited): See - even if you hate the mornings, there is no choice at Night Raven College. As Ramshackle Prefect you need to be up to take care of business before class. Deuce becomes your personal alarm clock because he wants some time with you before everyone else joins in. Mind you that he lives with three other dudes who threaten to end him every morning because his alarm wakes them up too. Eventually he can wake up without it, but the time leading is unpleasant.

"W-what? Seriously? I've been trying to be more like them! They're a good person and responsible so I've been trying to follow their example. To think we've been doing the same thing this entire time...." == Why would you ever imitate him? He's been trying his damn best to become an honor student worth respecting, and has a long way to go. To think you're comfortable enough with him to mimic his mannerisms? It's a pipe dream, one he doesn't grasp until it's put right in front of his face. You don't let anyone else pick off your plate other than Grim. The next time his clothes tear, he's already handing off his tie before realizing just what's happening. When you wrap his knuckles after a six-hour lock in at the library? He can't help but feel proud at how neat the bandages are. Suddenly the dark memories of hiding bruised knuckles from his mom are pacified with healing balm. Deuce views this development as a gift, and is grateful. Very, very grateful.

Habits you steal:

‘I owe you’ cards (Inherited): Ace's favorite social invention - the 'solid'. Nothing spells new-low like getting your friends to do stuff in exchange for a favor in the future. Most of the time Ace counts on people forgetting he owes them one, but you're not so gullible. The only difference between you both is that while Ace never fulfills his solid, you have a conscience. Give it a few more years. He'll get ya.

"I know this is the third ticket this week but - Oh! C'mon, cut a guy some slack, would you? I'm sorry for bein' late to our date. Yeah, it was shitty. I'm not trying to fight it, aright? I'm here now so let's have some fun and you can chalk three strikes on my tab. I'll even buy ya some candy - Ah! Okay! Two candies but that's where my charity ends!" <- Evidently, the 'I-owe-you' tabs cancel each other out from how often you both call in favors. It's just an excuse to do acts of service or express apologies without being too mushy. Ace is definitely keeping a track record of them though. Expect an ongoing log that dates back to the week you met, when he showed up homeless, collared, and looking to couch surf.

Profanity (Inherited): Ace swears like a sailor. Maybe not so much in his dorm because *cough* he's being policed. He holds no such reservations when you're both alone at Ramshackle. Unfortunately his potty mouth has a mind of it's own - it taints you, and you are a sham of a prefect. Ace earned a week-long collar for teaching you some Twisted-Wonderland exclusive curses. Riddle is not pleased.

Leaving the Windows Unlocked (Developed): There are only so many times he can sneak in through your window before the adrenaline-induced charm wears off. You have class in the morning, and can't be bothered to deal with him on nights he can't pass out in his dorm. Thank seven you have all of Ramshackle to yourself - because Heartslabyul sounds like a nightmare with the roommate situation. You can't leave the front door open for obvious reasons, but most nights the guest-bedroom window will be left slightly ajar in case he needs a place to crash.

"Pssst! Oi! Prefect! ...ugh, Grim! Wake them up, man! The latch is stuck. Don't go back to bed you furball! HEY! IT'S FREAKIN COLD OUT HERE SO LET ME IN ALREADY" <- Please let him in. If Ace has to spend one more night in that stinky dorm with three dudes, he'll string one of their dirty gym socks over your bed. No mercy.

Sleeping with Earplugs (Developed): Bitch Ace snores.

Habits he steals:

Notes Memo (Developed): Ace is bad with remembering things. Anniversaries? Dates? Allergies? He admits to not putting in a great amount of effort, but you can't say he doesn't try at all. He has a notes block on his phone dedicated to things like your go-to takeout orders and preferences. He even has a few alarms set days before any important events because even if you say no-gifts or plans...yeah, he's not that stupid.

Excessive Yawning (Inherited): You're always tired - it wasn't Ace's problem before but now he does feel a bit guilty. Dragging you into his messes felt different when you were just the prefect, y'know? Regardless, it's human instinct to mimic each other's demeanor so he'll openly yawn all the time - normally in succession of you.

"Hey...you're dozing off again. Am I seriously that boring to hang around? - Nah. Just messin' with you. I'd suggest taking a nap during next period but I doubt a goody-goody like you is gonna take that advice. Let's just ditch juice at lunch and go back to the dorm. Don't get mad if I forget to wake you up though"

Medications (Developed): Ace is the last person to become a human apothecary, but he's always got a pack of pain-reliever meds in his pocket with a few bandages, etc. He also attached one of those tiny capsule bottles to his keyring with some stomach meds inside. You took a spill running laps? Dang man. That sucks. Here's a band-aid for your knee. Curse you for making him the slightly-more responsible one.

"Eh..what, like it's a shock? You saying I'm a bad influence? Cause yeah, that checks. Nothin' I can do if they want to take a card outta my deck though," == Ace is entirely neutral on the topic. He is definitely smug that you're coming over to the dark side, but he doesn't need anyone to point it out. He was your first after all. Maybe the start could have been a bit better - but hey, you came around. It's not like he's hurting anyone by helping build your backbone. Although Ace will instantly deny going soft for you in any way, shape, or form.

[homicidal-mother]

Oh my god it's ✨him✨

My brain urgently needed Lester in a summer dress

Just look at this coquette

[tea-potato-gt]

G/t Trope Bingo:

Borrower stories:

Captured/discovered while out borrowing

The dredded 🫙Jar🫙

Bean, the “no, it’s pronounced human BEING” conversation

borrower with artistic abilities

The “that’s not borrowing, that’s stealing” conversation

Befriends bean of the house

Hurt-Comfort

Drunk giant scene

Dealing with pets/animals

Borrowers named after objects, food, or plants.

Tails or animal ears

BL

Fairy stories:

Losing ability to fly due to getting wet

Magic affinities/powers

Wishing to be human

Collecting human things

Odd names based on plants/magical objects

Curse(s)

Dragonfly or butterfly wings

Merfolk G/t:

Human drowning and saved by giant fish person

Speak different languages/can’t understand eachother

Put in air sack or underwater cave

Tiny fish person kept in a tank

Collecting human treasures

Pirates

Saving an entire sinking ship

Fantasy:

Jack and the beanstalk retelling

Princess/prince is engaged to a giant/tiny from a neighboring kingdom

Magic, spells, curses

Character goes on a quest to slay a giant (fails lol)

Kidnapped by a well meaning giant

Found family

Dark Borrower Stories:

Entire species is discovered

Kept as Pets or exterminated or experimented on

Borrower found by kind hearted bean, who shows them not all giants are bad.

Rac!sm/spec!es!sm

Humans think borrowers are dumb and underestimate them

Size-shifter:

Triggered by emotions (Scared/sad = small) or (Angry/happy = big)

Accidentally growing infront of friends and freaking them out

Accidentally growing in a confined space (room/box) and busts out.

Tearing through clothes or shrinking out of them, resulting in needing to make special clothing that changes size with them.

Modern setting:

Dating app misshap (accidentally unknowingly matching with a giant or tiny)

Disastrous first date

Fear of giants

Recently integrated school/jobs

Adopted by giant or tiny

Using phone twice your size

K!dnapped by school bully

Aliens👽:

Travel to or from other worlds/dimensions

Abduction

Different languages

Science experiments

Giant trying to convince tiny they aren’t evil

Mixed-sized families stories:

“Big” sibling & “little” sibling

Stairs and ramps around the house for easy access and travel

Tiny kid has giant sized room/bed

Extra rooms that are small scale (bathrooms and kitchens)

Small scale furniture next to giant furniture

Adopted kids/married in step kids

Protective parents (either giant or tiny)

Being carried to school/work by giant parent/sibling

Kids not telling friends they live in a mixed family (embarrassed.?)

***

Comment any other tropes to add! Also if anyone wants to make a bingo card 👀👀

I got recommendationsfor each G/t genre if y’all want any 👀 here’s some of my recs

[love-belle]

good riddance !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them pretending that they weren't each other's everything.

or

for when you're too hurt to regret anything. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i hope u like this one!!! thank u so much for reading, i love you <3 just a note, that i will probably not be posting next week bc i have exams but i will be active here so ! if u message me, i'll probably reply, i hope so anyways lol <3

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georgerussell63 your hobbies include calling me and carmen at 3 in the morning just to say bonjour in weird accents and then hang up

-> yourusername idk abt u but carmen loves me doing that

-> carmenmmundt can confirm 😘

username nah bc what'd daniel do so bad that y/n started doing STUFF

-> username IM SAYING LIKE 😭😭😭

username missing her in the paddock sm omg ://

username praying she's at the next race 🙏🙏🙏

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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danielricciardo good riddance.

8,626 comments

username PAUSE

username reverse whatcthebfuck

username daniel babe what.

username no bc if i was y/n i would cry maybe that's just my sensitive ass

-> username definitely not just u bc i would SOB

username OH MY GOD

landonorris don't act like i can't hear you singing sad songs to yourself

-> danielricciardo LEAVE ME ALONE

username nah bc what the fucj

username i don't like it one bit 🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤

username NOT MY PARENTS FIGHTING

username love is not real bc if they didn't work out then there's absolutely no hope for me

username i feel so bad :////

charles_leclerc you're lying

-> danielricciardo no i'm not

-> charles_leclerc yes you are, i can see you wipe away your tears

-> danielricciardo STOP EXPOSING ME

-> username PLEASE OH MY GOD

username "good riddance" what if this was my last straw.

username i know he's gasping for air rn knowing he lost a bad bitch like y/n

username ahahahahaha!!! im so okay!!!!!!! just fine!!!!!!! idc abt this!!!!!!!! (im losing my mind)

username someone take away y/n's phone before she sees this PLEASE

username my heart's breaking wtf

username remember when daniel and y/n posted about each other with WHOLESOME captions??????? good times

-> username those were the highlights of my entire week like ://

-> username i miss my mom and dad sm 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

maxverstappen1 nice

*liked by danielricciardo*

username i know max is maaaaaaaaaaad

username the f1 gc is blowing up as we speak rn

-> username real like y/n is like their baby sister 😭😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °text messages ꒱

kelly's bf 👎 - max ; cat stealer ❌ - y/n

cat stealer ❌ : max

kelly's bf 👎 : what

cat stealer ❌ : is kelly with u

kelly's bf 👎 : she's out with p

kelly's bf 👎 : what happened

cat stealer ❌ : just wanted to talk to her

cat stealer ❌ : it's okay, just tell her to give me a call whenever she's back :) tell sweet p i love her and i miss her sm

kelly's bf 👎 : will do

seen 1m ago

kelly's bf 👎 : hey you okay?

kelly's bf 👎 : i saw what daniel posted

kelly's bf 👎 : it's a shit move just saying

kelly's bf 👎 : he's stupid

cat stealer ❌ : yeah idc lol

cat stealer ❌ : "good riddance" ok boy u literally begged me to make it work

cat stealer ❌ : i'm sorry ik he's ur best friend

kelly's bf 👎 : yeah but so are you

cat stealer ❌ : WOAHHH PAUSE

cat stealer ❌ : max being nice for a change?????

cat stealer ❌ : history was made

kelly's bf 👎 : don't make me take it back

kelly's bf 👎 : but yeah

kelly's bf 👎 : don't pay any attention to him, yeah? i'm sure kelly will have a few choice words for him at the next race, along with me. and p probably, she loves her aunt y/n

kelly's bf 👎 : speaking of that, you're coming to the next race right?

cat stealer ❌ : i love u all :// thank u

cat stealer ❌ : and no, i don't think it's a good idea

kelly's bf 👎 : are you sure? you can stay inside the whole time, he won't even see you

cat stealer ❌ : i'll think abt it, im just very overwhelmed rn that's all

kelly's bf 👎 : that's very understandable tbh

cat stealer ❌ : max

kelly's bf 👎 : y/n

cat stealer ❌ : can i ask u something

kelly's bf 👎 : if this is about letting you and kelly give me a makeover, it's no

cat stealer ❌ : we'll convince u someday but that's not what i wanted to ask

kelly's bf 👎 : what is it?

cat stealer ❌ : do u think daniel ever loved me

cat stealer ❌ : like at all???

kelly's bf 👎 : y/n

kelly's bf 👎 : of course he did

kelly's bf 👎 : you were his everything

cat stealer ❌ : then why was it so easy for him to walk out and then say "good riddance"

cat stealer ❌ : he took the easy way out

kelly's bf 👎 : he's a stupid asshole that's all

kelly's bf 👎 : but he truly did love you, he still does. i know i complained a lot, but with the way he spoke of you, like you were truly his everything. it was such a happy site, seeing my two best friends in love

cat stealer ❌ : u called me best friend twice omg

cat stealer ❌ : that's a record

kelly's bf 👎 : shut up

kelly's bf 👎 : my point is

cat stealer ❌ : i need to post something so W

cat stealer ❌ : brb

cat stealer ❌ : kelly's calling me

kelly's bf 👎 : so i was just a placeholder till my girlfriend arrived?

cat stealer ❌ : aw look at u using ur brain

kelly's bf 👎 : this is why daniel broke up with you

cat stealer ❌ : TOO SOON

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe, charles_leclerc and 736,826 others

yourusername me looking for my last fuck to give

7,927 comments

username SLAYED

username ATE SO HARD OMG

username MOTHER

username i love her sm omg

username she's winning the idgaf war

kellypiquet pretty girl 🤍

*liked by yourusername*

username IM IN LOVE WOAHHHH

username she gagged him y'all

username I LOVE HER SM

username gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf

maxverstappen1 👍

-> yourusername 👎

-> maxverstappen1 okay fuck you i was trying to be nice

username HER

username iconic

username exes beefing omg 💀💀💀

lilymhe SLAYED

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe IN LOVE

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe on my knees pls marry me

-> yourusername let's go bb i'll get u a ring

-> alex_albon oh

-> lilymhe babe LOOK AWAY

username two artworks in one frame

-> yourusername pls i love u 😭😭😭

username MOTHER IS MOTHERING

username i know he's shaking rn

username no bc the way my jaw dropped and the way i gasped why are u so pretty beautiful gorgeous angelic ethereal breathtaking hot fine amazing

username I WENT TO HEAVEN OMG

username just one chance please

charles_leclerc as lando taught me "slayed the house down 🔥🔥🔥"

-> yourusername PLEASE IM HONOURED

username i adore her friendship with the grid 🫶🏼

username ahsuidsjgsjsjsksisjajsdh

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, landonorris and 796,415 others

danielricciardo ignorance doesn't suit you

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by francisca.cgomes, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 801,728 others

yourusername honey everything suits me ❤️

tagged danielricciardo

comments are disabled for this post

[rafayelgod]

🔞 WARNING ADULT CONTEN, NSFW, BDSM, HARDSEX, NOT FOR KIDS, CALEB FANFICTION! 🔞

Caleb - Run Hide and Seek 🥵🔞💦

🔞 Content Warning: This story contains mature themes, including explicit sexual content, dominance, and portrayals of a step-sibling relationship that is sexual in nature. Reader discretion is advised.

Caleb × You

The afternoon sun slanted through the living room window, casting a warm, golden light across the comfortable space. You were curled up on the large armchair, a mug of tea warming your hands, while Caleb sat opposite you on the couch, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he recounted a story from your shared childhood.

"Remember that time," he began, his deep voice rumbling pleasantly, "when you convinced me there was a dragon living in the big oak tree in Grandma's backyard? You were maybe five, all wide eyes and serious little faces."

You giggled, pulling your feet further under you. "Hey! You totally believed me for a whole week!"

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. His dark hair caught the light, and his purple eyes were soft with nostalgia as he looked at you. "I did. You were always such a brilliant storyteller, weaving tales out of thin air. And you'd drag me out there with a makeshift sword - a broom handle - ready to slay it."

Villa Vacation

"And you, brave soldier, were always right there beside me," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. It was true. From makeshift dragon hunts to building secret forts in the woods behind Grandma's house, Caleb had always been your partner in crime, your protector, the one person who understood your wild imagination and joined you in it wholeheartedly. Even after Grandma was gone, leaving just the two of you in the quiet house, those memories lingered, threads connecting your past and your present, a foundation built on shared secrets and unwavering affection. He'd always tell you these stories, about your silly antics, about his own childhood fears and triumphs, weaving a tapestry of your intertwined lives.

The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air as you walked hand-in-hand through the beautiful, sprawling woods surrounding the villa you'd rented for your holiday. After weeks of Caleb's demanding schedule as a Colonel and your own busy life, this escape felt like a dream. The sun dappled through the canopy above, casting shifting patterns on the leafy ground.

"Did you know," Caleb said, squeezing your hand gently, "they say this particular forest stretch has whispers of ancient magic? Local myths about forest spirits who play tricks on travelers."

"Ooh, tell me more!" you said, eyes wide with playful interest. You'd always loved hearing him talk about myths and legends, his smart mind absorbing everything. "What kind of tricks?"

He smiled down at you. "They might make you see things that aren't there, or lead you astray. Some legends even say they can steal memories... or hearts." He paused, his gaze lingering on yours.

You grinned, enjoying the fantasy. "Well, I hope they don't steal my heart," you said, leaning up and planting a quick, soft kiss on his cheek. "It's already taken."

Caleb immediately stopped walking, his tall frame freezing. A faint blush, a sight you always found incredibly endearing, crept up his neck and across his cheeks. His purple eyes widened slightly in surprise.

You laughed, the sound light and cheerful in the quiet woods. "Look at you, blushing like a schoolboy!" You poked his cheek gently. "My big, tough Colonel, flustered by a little kiss?"

He cleared his throat, his blush deepening. "It's... it's not just a 'little kiss' when it's from you," he muttered, his voice a little gruff.

You loved seeing him like this, the usually composed and dominant man reduced to a blushing mess. It only encouraged you to tease him more. You leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "Maybe those forest spirits are getting to you, huh? Making you think naughty thoughts?" You fluttered your eyelashes innocently. "Like wanting to pin me against one of these trees and show me just how much you missed me?"

His blush deepened further, but a slow, dark smirk began to spread across his lips. His eyes, moments ago soft, now held a possessive intensity that sent a familiar thrill through you. You felt his hand tighten slightly around yours. You glanced down, and couldn't help but notice the definite bulge pressing against the front of his tactical pants. Success.

You grinned, a mischievous spark igniting in your eyes. His reaction was exactly what you wanted. "Oh, look," you said, leaning up again and pressing another quick kiss, this time closer to his ear. "Looks like Colonel needs to relieve some... tension."

You didn't wait for him to respond. Giggling, you pulled your hand from his and turned, breaking into a run back towards the villa. "Catch me if you can!" you called over your shoulder, already weaving through the trees.

"Hey! Be careful!" he yelled after you, his voice laced with amusement and a hint of urgency. The chase was on. You could hear his footsteps behind you, long, powerful strides covering the ground quickly. You laughed again, the joy of the game exhilarating. You didn't slow down until you burst out of the tree line and sprinted towards the villa's entrance, slipping inside and letting the door click shut behind you. You were hiding.

°°°

You were already halfway across the living room when you heard Caleb's voice, closer now, carrying clearly from just outside.

"Hide properly, Pipsqueak," he warned, his voice low and playful but with an unmistakable edge of anticipation. "Because once I find you... I'm not letting you go."

A shiver, not of fear but of delicious anticipation, ran down your spine. You needed a good hiding spot. You scurried towards the far corner of the open-plan room, squeezing yourself behind a large, decorative ceramic vase nestled amongst some lush potted plants. Heart pounding, you pressed your back against the cool wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

The front door opened slowly. Footsteps, deliberate and slow, padded into the room. He was clearly enjoying this, drawing out the suspense. You held your breath, listening intently. He was circling, his footsteps soft on the polished floorboards.

"Where could my beautiful little Hunter be?" he murmured, his voice teasingly close. "Did she run off with a forest spirit? Or is she playing a game?"

He was getting closer. You could practically feel his presence. You peeked slightly from behind the vase. He was standing a few feet away, hands on his hips, purple eyes scanning the room with a predatory gleam. He knew exactly where you were, didn't he? He was just playing with you.

Before you could even think about making a break for it, he was there. He rounded the vase in a single fluid movement, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Gotcha."

He breathed, his voice a low growl that sent a jolt through you.

You instincts screamed to run again, but he was too fast. He moved instantly, pinning you against the wall in the corner. His large hands flattened on either side of your head, trapping you. His body was pressed close, leaving no room for escape.

"Trying to get away from me?" he murmured, his voice losing its playful tone. It was deeper, possessive now. His purple eyes burned into yours, intense and unyielding. "Tsk tsk. Didn't I tell you? Once I have you..." He lowered his head, bringing his face close to yours. "...I'm not letting you go. Not ever." His gaze dropped to your lips, then lower, to your neck. "And I'm going to do absolutely anything I want with you."

His words sent a thrilling shiver through you. You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks as his lips descended, not to your mouth, but to the sensitive skin of your neck. He kissed and sucked, his mouth devouring that pulse point. You gasped, startled by the sudden intimacy, and instinctively squirmed against the wall, a small, helpless sound escaping your throat.

But his hold was firm, his body a rigid wall against yours. There was no escape. After a moment of futile struggle, you surrendered, tilting your head back to give him better access. His lips continued their assault, biting gently, sucking harder, already promising a mark. He pinned his body even tighter against yours, leaving no space between you. That's when you felt it - the undeniable proof of your earlier teasing, hard and pressing against your lower abdomen. His cock was fully erect against you.

"C-caleb?"

Your blush deepened, spreading down your chest. A wave of heat washed over you, and you felt a answering ache begin to bloom deep within you. You were just as affected by him as he was by you.

He lifted one of his large hands from the wall, sliding it around your leg. With surprising strength, he lifted your foot off the ground, hooking it around his hip, tilting your pelvis against his.

"Caleb, wait..." you whispered frantically, glancing around the open room. "The couch... or the bedroom..."

He didn't listen. His eyes, when he looked at you, were darkened with need, promises of dominance swirling in their depths. His free hand went to the button of his tactical pants and, with a practiced flick, unbuckled them, pulling the zipper down in a single, swift movement. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet villa.

He shifted slightly, aligning himself. You felt the warm fabric of his pants brush against your thigh as he adjusted his position. The head of his cock nudged against the thin fabric of your shorts, warm and heavy.

"No waiting," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Right here. Right now.. Ahh,"

He pushed gently, finding your warmth, your wetness. You gasped again, clutching his shoulders as his engorged cock found your entrance. He didn't hesitate. With a slow, deep thrust, he slid inside you.

You cried out softly, the sudden fullness, the heat, the sheer rightness of him settling deep within you, stealing your breath. Your head fell back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. You could feel every inch of him filling you completely.

"Fuck..." he groaned, burying his face against your neck again, breathing heavily. "Ah- mmh so damn good..." His body pressed harder against yours, leveraging your tilted hip to bury himself even deeper.

He was still biting and sucking fiercely at your neck, leaving a trail of delicious bruises, as he began to move his hips, a slow, deliberate roll that sent waves of exquisite sensation through you. The initial shock gave way to pure, unadulterated pleasure. You couldn't help but moan, a soft, drawn-out sound that vibrated in your chest.

He pulled his head back slightly, his eyes finding yours. His usually calm face was a mask of intense pleasure and deep, raw need. He bit down on his lower lip, his gaze challenging, knowing. He looked incredibly sexy, completely primal. Seeing him like that, so consumed by you, made your knees feel weak, made you want to melt right there against the wall. He was teasing you, controlling every movement.

"Did you like that Pipsqueak?" he whispered, his voice husky, laced with dark humor. "Running away, only to be caught and filled right where I found you?"

You couldn't speak, only managed a weak nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He smirked again, a slow, predatory expression. "Good," he said, the word a low rumble. He began to move again, his thrusts slow, deep, and agonizingly sensual. Each movement was a deliberate invasion, pushing you against the wall, making you feel utterly taken. "You shouldn't run from me like that," he murmured, his voice close to your ear as he leaned back in to kiss your neck. "Not when I get this hard thinking about how good you feel... how much I want you."

He moved again, a deep, slow drive that made your body arch into his. "Every single time I look at you...Aah," he hissed, his hips pausing for a moment, buried deep inside you. "...I want this. I want to be in you. Mmh, All the time." He pulled back slightly, then plunged back in with deliberate force. "Do you feel that? Hmm? Do you feel.. How much I want you?"

Just when you thought you couldn't take the slow torture anymore, his hand moved. It wasn't rough, but firm, wrapping around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard, just enough to apply a light pressure, enough to make you gasp and force your eyes to lock onto his face.

His eyes were burning, intense purple orbs that held you captive. The dominance radiating from him in that moment was overwhelming, intoxicating. "Ah.. ahh Caleb,"

You didn't feel scared, you felt a rush of something primal, a deep-seated part of you that absolutely craved being dominated by him like this, owned by his gaze, his touch, his body filling yours.

"Aahh," His mouth opened slightly, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. With a final, powerful thrust, he pulsed inside you.

"Mmh, yes," he groaned, clinging to you. He didn't pull out immediately, just buried himself against you, holding you tightly. You felt the warmth of his release flooding into you, a potent wave that mirrored your own building climax.

He didn't pull out right away, staying connected, breathing heavily into your neck. After a long moment, he finally stirred, his hand releasing your throat. He carefully pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness making you ache. He kept his arm around your waist, steadying you.

He didn't let go. Instead, he easily scooped you up into his arms, holding you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, your head resting on his shoulder. He carried you effortlessly through the villa, past the couch and towards the bedroom, his large frame radiating protective warmth.

You knew, with absolute certainty, that the night was far from over. And you were more than ready for it. He carried you to the large, comfortable bed in the bedroom and gently laid you down. He didn't waste time. He was inside you again, and again, and again. Each time was more intense, more possessive than the last. By the third time, you were completely sated, body heavy and humming with residual pleasure. He finally pulled you into his arms, shifting so you were curled against his chest, your head tucked under his chin. You drifted off to sleep, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm beneath your ear.

°°°

Morning light, soft and diffused by the villa's curtains, woke you gently. You stirred, feeling soft fabric beneath you and a strong, solid weight around you. You were still tucked against Caleb's chest, his arm a warm, protective band around your waist. His breathing was slow and even, the remnants of sleep still lingering around him.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. He stirred, his arm tightening around you instinctively.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but instantly softening as he felt you against him. One of his hands came up to gently stroke your hair.

"Morning," you whispered back, snuggling closer. You felt utterly content, loved, and cherished.

He kissed the top of your head. "Sleep well, Pipsqueak?"

You hummed in response. "Better than well." You tilted your head back to look at him. His dark hair was slightly mussed from sleep, and his purple eyes, though still a little hazy, were already filled with that familiar, intense affection when he looked at you.

He smiled, a genuine, tender smile that reached his eyes. "Good. That's all I want." He tucked you closer. "Woke up and you were right here. Best feeling in the world."

"Mmm," you agreed, tracing the line of his jaw with your finger. "It's pretty good waking up next to you too, Caleb."

He chuckled softly. He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then lingered on your lips for a soft, tender kiss. "You know how much I love you, right?" he said, his voice quiet and sincere.

You felt your heart swell. "I know. And I love you too. So, so much."

"More than anything?" he teased, a playful glint returning to his eyes.

You laughed. "Much, much more." You pressed a kiss to his chest again. "You're my favorite adventure."

His arm tightened around you, holding you securely. The quiet intimacy of the morning, the warmth of his body against yours, the easy flow of comfort and love - it was everything. After the intensity of the night, this gentle tenderness was a perfect grounding. You were safe, loved, and exactly where you belonged, wrapped in the arms of your handsome, possessive, wonderfully complicated stepbrother and boyfriend.

- The End - 🌚💦🔞

©Melody (Follow for more hot stories) 🌚💦🔞

[zwoftt]

GUYS. orym pulling dorian over to PRIVATELY tell him that he thinks his dad is present. the soft hand on the shoulder, the worried gaze.... dorian brushing it off... dorian being the shyest, most nervous bard to ever walk the lands- and yet somehow manage to steal the breath of everyone in that fucking room with his speech about "his heart". SUMMONING A FUCKING STEED???? A DRAGON????????? the mention of the haunting tune, dorian soon finding its wavelength in that moment is so touching. finding his voice finally. orym BLUESCREENING AFTER HIS CRUSH ABSOLUTELY SLAYS THAT MONOLOGUE???? LIAM LOOKIN LIKE HE WAS GUNNA SAY SOMETHING UNTIL HE WAS BLOCKED OUT ?!?!?!!!!11111/111! ---AND THEN coming back to have orym chase after dorian's dad and chat with him. liam clearly and actually stating "how much he loves dorian" for the first time in the campaign. the fucking FACE ROBBIE MAKES!!! dorian's little "you did great!!" to ashton after their conversation. the fist butt into a literal piece of walking rock... getting called 'the soft one'. UGH. the genasi cousins!!!! i love them! the talk between dorian and his father is just.... heart wrenching. peak fucking dnd. i was sobbing. dorian as a character is just so, unbelievably real to me. as a younger sibling of my household, and constantly having nightmares of my older brother passing before his time or getting hurt; dorian as a character just speaks outwardly to me. the struggles with his parents' vision, the nervousness he gets in crowd even when he puts up an extroverted facade... etc. etc. its deep. this episode was deep. dorym is inching ever closer! i can feel it!!! our boys have LOVER SWORDS! TWIN. FUCKING. HOLY SWORDS!!!! if anyone knows what happens in cooldown, anything dorym, let ME KNOW!!

[whisperingmidnights]

Starcrossed: Chapter One

Word Count: 5,725

Pairing: Rhysand x reader

A/N: Welcome to my self-indulgent Chasing Starlight AU, where we get to explore Dove's life as it might have unfolded if her mother had married for love instead of duty. This story doesn't require you to have read CS to understand it, but I think it's more fun if you have.

Thank you to @throneofsapphics and @historiaxvanserra for helping me with these first few chapters. It means more than you know. And to those of you who encouraged the insanity, both privately and publicly.

     The maplewood floors, warmed by the golden afternoon sunshine that steals through the boughs of the trees surrounding the Forest House, barely creak beneath my bare feet as I slink across them. My skirts are tied high on my legs to give me room to move, and the knot I’ve made of the maroon fabric hangs heavily against my knee. Pressing myself back against the wall near my father's office, I do my best to hold my breath and listen to the low, flowing cadence of his voice filtering through the slight crack in the door.

     I shouldn’t be spying. I know I shouldn’t, but when word spread through the healing halls of the slaughter of Spring’s High Lord and his family, I just had to come. What might have warranted such a heinous attack? In their own home, no less. Lady Sybil said one son had survived, but which one? Did the shackles of the High Lord pass to him, in that terrible moment? Dust motes dance around me like little sprites, making my nose twitch as I strain to hear the conversation in my father’s office.

     “And which emissary did you dispatch to Night?” My mother asks, disdain dripping from her tone. To say she isn’t a fan of that High Lord is an understatement.

     “Roland,” Papa says over the sound of parchment crinkling. “He returned an hour ago with that note from Rhysand.”

     “You sent Roland? Honestly, Eris, you may as well have sent one of our girls-”

     “Lucien went directly from Day to Spring, and he was the only other emissary currently available, my love. And passing along our condolences is hardly a formidable task. He was up for it.”

     “The male is an imbecile.”

     “He’s charming.”

     “He’s simpering, which is worse. Frankly, I’m surprised Rhysand didn’t have him killed on sight.”

     A floorboard creaks and my heart jumps into my throat. I glance quickly to my right to see my youngest brother tiptoeing along the wall, a mischievous smile on his freckled face as fire dances in those amber eyes. Reaching out, I quickly loop an arm around his shoulders and clamp my hand over his mouth, drawing him against my side before he makes any more noise and gets us caught.

     “Quiet, Asp,” I hiss into his ginger curls. “I’m trying to listen.”

     Aspen’s teeth sink into my fingers, but I only press them tighter against his mouth. Somehow, the little weasel always manages to find me at the most inconvenient moments. To his credit, he doesn’t struggle, and I angle our bodies more towards the door. The Lord of Night’s son has only attended a few of the meetings between the High Lords and their courtiers over the last few decades, so I’m not as familiar with him as I am with his sister, Rhosyn - who I have yet to hear my father mention.

     If Rhysand is the one receiving condolences from our emissary, that can only mean…surely it wasn’t his father who went after Spring’s High Lord. Then again, who is better suited to kill a High Lord than another High Lord? Such an action would undoubtedly bear a heavy consequence, at least from the land. To slay another High Lord is nearly sacrilegious. What could possibly have provoked such an attack? Poor Rho, she really loved her father. I should write to her. Why didn’t Papa tell me about this himself? There was time at breakfast after the littles were sent to their tutors. Perhaps he didn’t know then, but he should have sent for me when he found out, shouldn’t he? He’s the one insisting I should be trained in court politics, after all.

     “What nosy little foxes,” a crooning whisper brushes against my ear as a strong hand clamps down on my shoulder. Eyes wide, I glance back to see my uncle grinning down at us. I shove Aspen away with a gasp, locking my arms around his middle in a tight hug.

     “Uncle Lu!” Aspen’s delighted shout gives us away, but it hardly matters now that we’ve been caught. Uncle Lucien’s laughter rings through the halls like the peal of a bell, as warm and rich as the cinnamon tea he favors. “You’ve been gone forever!”

     “Some spies you are,” he chuckles, somehow steering the three of us through the door to my father’s office, entangled as we are. Papa is seated behind his desk with my youngest sister asleep against his chest, her chubby little hand stuffed in her mouth. He gives me a pointed look when we stop just shy of the chairs arranged before his desk, but it’s the glare from my mother just behind him that I’m purposefully avoiding. “Look who I found sniffing around your door. They must have been eager to see their papa.”

     “No,” Aspen says as he wriggles out from under Uncle Lucien’s arm like the little snake he is. “Nurse said Junie’s in here.”

     He’s been absolutely obsessed with Juniper since her birth a week ago. Of course he was coming here to see her. Aspen leans against our father’s arm, craning to see the babe’s face as she snuffles sleepily into Papa’s tunic. My uncle gives me a tight squeeze as he smiles down at the new babe, whose birth he missed while he was visiting our grandmother.

     “Another girl after all,” he says fondly before his russet eyes slide to meet my mother’s. “I believe you owe me money.”

     “You’ll be getting a lot more than that from me, Lucien Vanserra, if you don’t wipe that smug grin off of your face immediately.” My mother glares at him like a queen upon her throne, and a shiver runs down my spine at the threat in her crimson eyes. When they flick to me, I shrink against my uncle’s side as she takes in the state of my skirts and the wild braid sticking to the side of my neck. “And you, running around like some street urchin, aren’t you supposed to be attending lessons?”

     “They’re finished for the day,” I reply with a shrug. It’s not technically a lie, they’re finished now - even if they weren’t before I left. “And I heard about Spring. I wanted to know if it was true, so I came to see Papa.”

     “You came to spy,” my father murmurs, unable to keep the smile from his lips as he looks at me. “I intended to send for you after your lessons, little fox. You would have learned about it all soon enough, had you been even the least bit patient.”

     “It’s a big deal, Papa,” I retort, vainly attempting to sound wiser than I probably am. “I don’t think I should be learning such sensitive matters secondhand.”

     “Oh, I agree. Which is why you’ll tell me who you heard it from.”

     “I want to hold Junie,” Aspen whines as I shift from foot to foot, debating whether or not I should tell my father the truth. I’d hate to see Lady Sybil punished when, truly, I shouldn’t have been listening in on her conversation. I don’t even know how she found out about it, really. My mother grabs the back of Aspen’s collar and pulls him to stand beside her while my father gazes at my expectantly, his hand smoothing over the new babe’s tuft of fluffy, ginger hair.

     Unfortunately, the moment I finally open my mouth to speak, Iris drifts into the room like a petal on a spring breeze. Her mint day gown is pristine, a perfect compliment to her creamy skin and dark, wine-red curls, and I have to fight not to roll my eyes at my perfect sister. On her heels are two chubby smokehound pups, Nova and Hesper - gifts from Fable’s most recent litter, courtesy of our father. Nova trips over her own large, clumsy paws on her way over to me, sending her rolling like a child’s ball until she flops at my feet, her ears covering her eyes.

     “That one won’t be much of a hunter,” Uncle Lucien notes jovially as I bend to pluck the poor pup from the ground and tuck her into the crook of my arm. Her dark fur is soft and long, unlike the rest of her siblings - a rare mutation Papa hates to see in his working dogs. Hesper’s coat is short, but she bears the unfortunate combination of being underweight and stupid. Of course she immediately became attached to my sister, Iris loves a project.

     “Oh, the girls have already spoiled them,” Papa says, “I expect they’ll be little more than house trained, at this rate. That one seems especially dim.”

     She’s not any more dim than Hesper. I scratch the puppy behind her ears and she gives me a curious whine as she relaxes in my hold. I’ll have to take her out before dinner and let her run around a bit. It’s been a few decades since Papa last gave me a puppy to raise.

     “Uncle Lucien, you’re home,” Iris says brightly, tucking herself beneath his arm in spite of the mutinous glare I shoot her. Can I not have five minutes without her coming in to prove she’s the brightest, loveliest female in the room? Fate played a particularly cruel hand the night it saddled me with her as a sister. “I missed you.”

     “Nova isn’t dim, Papa, she’s only a baby,” I tell him, ignoring Iris’s presence for the moment. “And it was Lady Sybil, if you must know - but please don’t punish her too harshly. I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”

     “I’ll speak to her,” my mother murmurs, leaning down to take Juniper from my father’s arms. “Right after I put this one down. Yes, Aspen, you may come and hold her for a while. Let’s leave your father and sisters in peace, shall we?”

     “Jes should be getting settled in our quarters,” Uncle Lucien adds to her retreating back, “if you’re keen for adult company after.”

     “How is Auntie Jes?” Iris asks, and this time I can’t stop my eyes from drifting towards the ceiling. Ever the caretaker, Iris would probably be better suited for healing than I am, if she weren’t constantly insisting she’s too delicate for it. “Is she feeling well, should I take her some tea?”

     “She is doing better now that we’re home. Travel doesn’t seem to agree with her at this point in her pregnancy, so I doubt she'll be accompanying me anywhere else in the foreseeable future. Tea would be a lovely gesture, Iris, thank you.”

     “I’ll go at once,” she says with her own bright smile. “A guard mentioned you were home, so I merely wished to say hello.”

     “Of course you did,” I mutter, scratching behind Nova’s ear. A sharp tug at my skirt draws my attention to Hesper, whose little teeth are firmly set in the hem. “Hesper, no. Iris, can’t you do something?”

     “Oh, Hesper, down,” she says, ducking to grab the puppy around the middle. As she does, a terrible ripping sound accompanies another tug, and the pup comes away with a large chunk of my hem. Iris, to her credit, looks properly distressed as she turns her eyes on me. It’s strange how that same blood moon shade is gentle on her yet piercing on my mother. “Oh no. Sissy, I’m so sorry.”

     An old childhood nickname I’ll never be free of, but I can’t be angry with her when she calls me that. I simply shrug, pressing a kiss to the top of Nova’s head. She may not be up to my father’s standard of training, but she has yet to destroy anything that’s not a toy.

     “It can be repaired,” Papa says kindly, turning a disdainful eye on my knotted, wrinkled skirts. “Not that your sister seems overly fond of her dress to begin with. And where are your shoes, little fox?”

     “In my room. It was easier to sneak up to the door without them.”

     “She’s a terrible spy,” Uncle Lucien says, “but significantly better than Aspen. She did have him in some sort of stranglehold when I came along-”

     “His nose was uncovered, he could breathe.”

     “Mother, save me,” Papa murmurs. “Iris, run along and help your aunt, and take your sister with you. It seems your uncle still has business with me.”

     “Actually, Iris will need to go alone. I have business with the both of you.”

     “Really?” I ask, smiling up at him. From the corner of my eye, I see Iris nod and excuse herself, tugging at the strip of fabric in her puppy’s mouth on the way to the door. Hesper, the little rat, growls her refusal to give it up. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. It isn’t behavior that should be encouraged. Once the office door closes behind her, I turn back to my father. “You were going to tell me what happened in Spring, weren’t you, Papa?”

     “Oh, Eris, surely not.” I so rarely get to see my uncle wrinkle his nose in disgust. When he notices me watching, he turns an apologetic frown on me. “It’s nasty business, little fox. You’re better off not knowing.”

     “She’ll need to be aware regardless,” Papa says, shuffling the parchment littering the top of his desk. “We can hardly keep the indelicate parts of this life from her, Lucien, if she is to be my heir.”

     “We don’t even know that she is. You assume so, but who’s to say it will choose her?”

     “Why shouldn’t it?” I ask, frowning at the implication. Uncle Lucien tugs at my braid and I take a step away, holding my puppy close to my chest. “Do you think it would favor Aspen or Linden over me, simply because they’re male?”

     “Of course not.”

     “I am the eldest and, so far, the most powerful of all my siblings.” I resent the tremble in my voice as the words tumble from my lips. I want to be calm for this, but my temper always has other ideas. An answering pulse from the land sends the slightest of tremors through the foundation of the house, rattling the portraits on the walls. Beyond the window, I can see the clouds beginning to roll in, as dark and thunderous as the shift in my mood - evidence of the power flowing through my veins. My father sighs, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Linden may have inherited our family’s gifts and, yes, he might have more military training than I do. But I don’t need to know how to command armies, Uncle Lucien. I need to be able to rule. That’s what I’m learning, isn’t it, Papa?”

     “There are many reasons it would behoove you to be aware of political moves and alliances between our courts and beyond.” My father’s biting response lands like a slap. “You’re the eldest daughter of a noble family and, as such, I expect you to behave in a manner that befits your station. Perhaps we should repeat the lesson on controlling your temper, since you don’t seem to have grasped the importance of it yet.” I duck my head, my cheeks burning at the implication that I’m being childish - perhaps I am, but I hate it when he notices. I never want my father to see me falling short of his - admittedly high - expectations.

     “I apologize,” I murmur, willing the clouds to disperse and return the bright blue sky we were previously enjoying. Instead, a steady drizzle begins to fall as if to spite me. Rain taps at the windows for a long moment before Uncle Lucien slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me back against his side once more.

     “It takes time, kit. You aren’t quite a century yet. Your papa might do well to remember the curtains he set fire to in a small outburst when he was young-”

     “You weren’t even around when that happened,” Papa sneers, narrowing his amber eyes at my uncle. Uncle Lucien’s sly smile doesn’t move an inch.

     “Yet Mother recalls it in such vivid detail. I believe they were marigold yellow-”

     “State your business, Lucien. From the looks of it, my daughter still needs to bathe and change before dinner tonight.”

     “Mother would like to borrow said daughter for a few weeks, if you can spare her. The lemon groves near the capitol are struggling through a hell of a drought. Truly, I think she’s just missing her grandchildren and is looking for any opportunity to host one.”

     “Grandmother asked for me?” I ask, turning a hopeful smile on my father. Nova licks at my chin and her wet nose drags across my skin, but I can’t be bothered to reprimand her. Not when I might be getting off of the estate for a few days, at least. “Oh, Papa, please can I go?”

     “Do you think you’re ready for it?” he counters, arching a brow at me. I have only ever helped maintain the smaller, nearby orchards without his assistance, but surely these lemon groves are about the same size. He wouldn’t be asking me if I were ready if he didn’t think I was. This is a test, but I have the correct answer.

     “Yes, sir, I do. I can handle it, Papa.”

     “You’ll need to take the puppy with you. Two is a bit much for Iris to manage on her own.”

     “Will Grandfather mind?” I ask. Grandmother took the hounds that had belonged to her after they wed, but I can’t recall seeing any other sort of dog wandering the halls of the Day Court palaces since their passing. I had been little more than a child then.

     “He might mind the pup I send with you for your grandmother, but I doubt they’ll make any more of a mess than the pegasi he breeds.”

     “Oh, Helion’s going to love that,” Uncle Lucien chuckles, shaking his head. “And Mother’s missed the hounds. I’m certain she’ll appreciate the gesture.”

     “It’s older and better trained than that menace, in any case. Will you be accompanying them?”

     “Yes. Now that I have Jesminda home, I’ll feel a little easier leaving her for a few hours.” I should see my aunt before I leave. Her pregnancy had barely been announced before she and Uncle Lucien left for Day, and she’s wanted a babe for so long…I’ll try to see her before dinner. Mother knows Iris will suck up whatever time she can this afternoon.

     “Thank you,” I tell my uncle, giving Nova a little bounce. “We’re going on an adventure, Nova. Won’t that be fun?”

     “You’ll behave,” my father begins, but the words barely make it out of his mouth before Uncle Lucien scoffs, his hair flowing down his back in a red wave as he shakes his head.

     “She’s an adult, Eris, and even if she weren’t, she’s the best of the bunch. Aren’t you, fox?”

     “I’m certainly not the worst. Unlike Linden, I’ve never set fire to anything just to see what it would do.” The stone foundation of Papa’s kennels bears scorch marks that even magic hasn’t been able to completely restore. “How is he, by the way? Have you received a letter?”

     “This morning,” Papa says with a fond smile, lifting one of the many bits of parchment on his desk. “He’s fine, they have him on sentry duty along the northern border in Oakcrest.”

     “Oh, I bet he’s hating it.” My brother always loved the bustle of Thornvale and the Forest House, to think of him in that little village with nothing but orchards for miles…well, I can’t suppress my smirk. It earns the back of my arm a little pinch from my uncle, but he looks twice as amused as I do.

     “He is, he’s begging for reassignment.”

     “You’re not going to grant it, are you?” Uncle Lucien asks.

     “Absolutely not. In fact, I may give his captain direct orders to keep him there longer. Perhaps he needs a year in the north. Winter's chill might do him some good.”

     “That’s diabolical.”

     “He understands the chain of command by now, he should know better. Besides, I’m not anticipating any trouble along our northern border for the moment, he’s safest there. What of Spring, Lucien? How is Tamlin?”

     “Grieving, as one would expect. I’ve promised to return soon, with your leave, and assist with restructuring how I can. He’s going to need guidance, Eris. He thought this was never going to be his role.”

     “And yet, he’s the last male of his house standing. It must say something about him, though I’m not certain what.”

     “Merely that Rhysand didn’t make the killing blow,” Uncle Lucien says with a sigh. “Are you sure you want her here for this?”

     “She needs to know.” Papa says, idly straightening his sleeves. “Even if she does not go on to rule this territory, Lucien, she may very well marry into one of these families. I won’t have her walking into it blind.”

     “There’s not a male alive in the whole of Prythian who could ever be worthy.” I huff at the hint of possession in his tone. Fae males are infinitely more protective with babes on the way, though the males in my family have routinely found ways to redefine the meaning of overprotective.

     “I think that’s for me to judge, don’t you?” I ask. The phrase barely makes it past my lips before my father and uncle are laughing, sharing a look I can’t decipher. Males. “Are you going to tell me what happened or not? As you said, Papa, I should bathe before dinner.”

     The reminder has a sobering effect I hadn’t anticipated. It’s always amazed me, the way mirth falls from their faces like the life leeched from a corpse. The room is darker for it, somehow, and the anxiety creeping beneath my skin only serves to encourage the storm brewing outside. Neither male seems particularly eager to speak, and my father gives me a measuring look before he begins.

     “I know you were fond of Rhysand’s sister, fox. I am sorry to say that our spies reported the deaths of her and her mother yesterday.”

     “What?” I whisper, shaking my head. My grip on Nova loosens and I feel  my uncle ease her from my grasp and onto the floor before he wraps a bracing arm around my shoulders. My heart thumps painfully in my chest, it’s like my ribs are somehow too small to contain it. “What do you mean?”

     It doesn’t make sense. Rhosyn was young, younger than Iris, I- I just saw her a few months ago. Had they taken ill? My vision blurs as I watch my father stand. He’s an imposing figure in any room, but this one has never looked so small until now. The dimmed faelights hollow out his sharp features, transforming him in an instant from my patient papa to the High Lord of Autumn.

     It is my Uncle Lucien who speaks next, relaying the whole horrible tale as he’d heard it from the Lord of Spring himself.

     “From the way Tamlin told it, he and Rhysand had been friends for a rather long time. He didn’t speak of the nature of their friendship and, truly, I was unaware they were more than acquaintances, but I suppose they were close enough for Rhysand to mention a brief trip his mother and sister were making to a certain war-camp to see him – he didn’t relay the specifics, Eris, and I didn’t press.”

     “No,” the High Lord says, trailing his thumb over his lower lip as he so often does when he’s thinking. “It wasn’t the time.”

     “Tamlin let mention of the journey slip, probably to get back into his father’s good graces. He thought his father and brothers might, at most, capture Rhysand, but he knew he’d be strong enough and vicious enough to fight them off if he had to. He did not, however, plan to find the Lady of Night and her daughter unaccompanied.” I swallow hard at the idea of Rho and her lovely mother, with those impossibly kind eyes, surrounded by powerful males from a foreign court on their own lands. I’m no fool, I’ve heard many tales of what happens to vulnerable females at any time of day. Nova is a fuzzy blur at my feet, licking at the bare skin of my ankle. I lean against my uncle, allowing my head to hang as his voice softens and he whispers to my father, “Eris, are you certain-”

     “Finish your report.”

     “The mother put up quite a fight, trying to protect her daughter, but the girl was killed quickly. With her daughter gone, the Lady of Night didn’t have much to fight for. They sent their heads down the river in boxes, took their wings as trophies, and left the bodies for the wolves to find.”

     “No,” I whisper, vaguely aware of my feet moving, sending me stumbling forward like they might take me from the nightmare. It is my father’s callused hands that catch me and tuck me against his side, that smooth over my hair as my uncle relays the story of how the High Lord of the Night Court and his son dispatched the High Lord of Spring, his wife, and most of their sons in retribution. That explains why the land had not punished the former High Lord for killing the latter – she had been soaked in the blood of innocents. He had lost almost everything, so he took, measure for measure, what he had lost…and paid the ultimate price for it.

     Leaving our lands more divided than ever.

     I cling to my father like a child and he allows it, cradling my head the way he had Juniper’s barely fifteen minutes prior. The rain beats against the window and, for once, my power does not feel like a burden. It’s almost as if the land cries with me, mourning all that was lost in the last day. Not only the lives of two long standing, powerful High Lords, but a friendship that might have blossomed into a powerful alliance - a unity that might have reshaped our courts for the better, if only it’d had the chance. And who’s to say that the life of one young female wouldn’t have changed the world, if only she’d had the chance. Now we’ll never know.

     After a moment, I straighten and wipe my face with the handkerchief my uncle extends. How fortunate I am, to have the majority of my family beneath one roof once more, and to know my brother is safe even though he is far away. My mind strays to the new Lord of Night, who will be burying his family instead of dining with them. Does he have friends who will care for him? While my Uncle Lucien busies himself helping to restructure Spring, who will provide Rhysand support?

     When I voice my concern to my father, he hums thoughtfully as he plucks my puppy from the floor and cradles her as he had Juniper. I’ve never understood his attachment to his hounds, but each of them have been his babies - even if he tries to hide it. Nova lolls in his arm, the tip of her tongue protruding from her mouth as her dark, soulful eyes peer up at me.

     “We’ve extended a hand to Rhysand, if he should need it. I doubt he will. I know you were fond of his sister, my darling, but the Night Court is a cruel, secretive territory with its own moral code. They do not seek help beyond their borders, nor do they freely give it. It is kind of you to care, but I would not urge you to hold onto such tender notions where that court is concerned – they will disabuse you of them rather quickly, I’m afraid.”

     “How do you know? Have you been there?” I ask, reaching out to stroke Nova’s head. Uncle Lucien sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead as though he is weary. He did a lot of traveling today with my aunt in tow, perhaps he is tired.

     “I’ve been to their capital city on many occasions. When I was very young, my father had me betrothed to a female from one of their noble families. She found a rather unsavory way to break the engagement, and they abandoned her brutalized body in our territory, to be our problem. She lived, of course, but that is what they do to their own. I will not elaborate on the way they treat their enemies.”

     I hadn’t been aware of my father’s prior engagement, but I’ve heard countless stories of his father’s machinations. I’m luckier still to never have known such a cruel male, how Papa and his brothers survived under his thumb…well, there’s a reason it’s only Papa and Uncle Lucien now. He passes Nova off to me and runs a hand over my hair before he gestures towards the door, a silent dismissal. I manage a polite curtsy before I show myself out and head to my aunt and uncle’s suite of rooms.

     The curtains are drawn, an unusual choice for my sunshine-loving aunt. I move quietly through each empty, darkened room until I find their cracked bedroom door. The warm glow of low faelights cast long shadows on the floor, and I keep Nova tucked beneath my arm as I ease the door open. My aunt is in bed, seemingly asleep with a cloth draped over her forehead. A steaming cup of tea is on her nightstand, and beneath the covers at her side I barely make out Hesper’s snout peeking out. The door to their bathing chamber opens with a slight squeak, and Iris steps out with an empty copper basin in her hands.

     “Is she well?” I whisper when my sister finally drifts over to join me, having deposited the basin on the nightstand near the teacup.

     “I don’t know,” Iris shrugs, crossing her arms over her torso – as she often does when she’s feeling vulnerable. She chews on the inside of her lip as we stand there, watching the steady rise and fall of Aunt Jesminda’s chest until Iris takes another steadying breath. “She wasn’t well when I arrived. Don’t you think she’s too pale? Should we send for a healer?”

     “If she’s been vomiting, that’s not uncommon. It may be nothing more than morning sickness. Was she complaining of any pain? Cramping?”

     “No. She said she was fatigued.”

     “They went from Day to Spring before coming back home,” I shrug. “Even if it was Uncle Lucien winnowing them, it would still be a lot to deal with. Send a message to Mother, if you’re concerned, but I wouldn’t bother a healer unless she begins complaining of pain or develops a fever. I can stay with her, if you’d rather not.”

     “Oh, no. I’m happy to stay until Uncle Lucien comes. Do you know why they were in Spring, by the way?”

     “I do.” My throat tightens at the thought of all the pain being traded between two of Prythian’s courts at the moment. “I’m sure Papa will make some sort of announcement about it at dinner tonight.”

     “Is it so bad?”

     “It’s bad enough that I don’t wish to discuss it further. I must bathe before dinner, so if you’re sure you’ll be fine here, I’ll take my leave.”

     “Alright,” Iris whispers, resting a hand on my elbow. “Thank you for stopping to check in-”

     “I didn’t do it for you.” There is no victory for me in the way she visibly wilts at the remark, but the smile remains firmly planted on her face regardless. I know I should apologize. I’m not sure when I began to resent her so much, but these days I simply can’t resist the urge to lash out at her. Perhaps it would be easier if the ladies of our court didn’t take every opportunity to compare us. I quickly take my leave, before she or I can say anything to further widen the valley between us.

     Back in my chambers, servants are bustling about, fretting with shoes and gowns or dusting the various trinkets I’ve accumulated from my uncle’s travels over the decades. Lettie, a Brownie who has served our family for as long as I’ve been alive, pops out of the bathing chamber and makes a beeline for me. Hunched and covered in coarse, shaggy hair, her dark eyes burn as she takes in the sight of me. She might be small, but she’s vicious when crossed and I don’t feel up for a fight today. I pass off Nova to one of the nearby maids before her gnarled hand wraps around my wrist and she ushers me into the bath, fussing over the state of my dress.

     “This dress is a mess. Why is it ripped, girl? What were you up to?” she grumbles as she deftly releases each button, her wizened voice like the wind rustling dry leaves. “Meddling where you shouldn’t be?”

     “It was Hesper. I’m sure she’s just teething and needs something to chew.”

     “Tch, and your feet are filthy. I found your shoes by the door. Whatever possessed you to go without them?”

     “I was trying to be stealthy,” I sigh, stepping into the deep, porcelain tub near the window. The near-boiling water is milk-white and smells of oats and honey, and I sink into it without another thought. Rain continues to pelt the window, a reflection of my sour mood, and I keep my eyes fixed on the blurred horizon as Lettie uses a dark, jasmine-scented sugar to scrub at my skin until it’s nearly raw.

     One day, perhaps, I’ll be able to do as I like - bathe how I like - without having to answer to anyone besides myself. Freedom is a wish I harbor in the deepest part of my heart, tucked between my duty to my family and court and my duty to myself. Ruling is in my blood, the desire to live for the will of my people is written in the essence of my soul, but I can’t help but wonder if maybe something else is waiting for me out there - something as wicked and wild and free as I long to be.

[millerskitty]

Running If You Call My Name

❥ dbf!joel / f!reader x joel miller

❥ (18+) nsfw

❥ reader insert

❥ medium burn, no outbreak au. some timelines are changed to fit the story.

dividers by @/saradika !

warnings: sneaking around, brief mentions of pregnancy and unprotected sex, angst

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

Chapter 8

The thrill of sneaking around had become addictive. Stealing kisses and tiny touches while you were around other people made your skin vibrate with desire. You and Joel would lock eyes from across the room and you’d feel a spark of need strike just below your navel. You found him to be so handsome when he had to pretend that he didn’t know what you looked like falling apart beneath him.

It was finally Halloween and you were dressed up like a cat which amused Joel very much. He offered to hand out candy to the neighborhood kids with you and Pop. You had to coach yourself, to actually mind the tension that was pulling tight like a rubber band that could snap at any moment. You told yourself that it was just like old times, that it was just Joel and Pop and you wouldn’t overstep and expose the nature of your relationship with Joel.

Sarah was going out with friends to the ‘rich and fancy’ neighborhoods in hopes of receiving full sized candy bars. She was dressed as a zombie slaying heroine from a popular show called The Walking Dead. You were glad that kid had a friend group the size of a small army to keep her distracted from the mess you and her father had gotten into. You did feel guilty for stirring up such a fuss in her life, but you pocketed that conversation for another day.

You were putting the final touches on some rice krispy treats decorated as mummies when you felt a warm hand on your waist. Your eyes widened as Joel leaned down to kiss your temple and then moved past you to pull two beers out of the fridge.

“You’re getting bold.” You scolded him.

“How can I resist my cute little kitten?” Joel asked, eyeing you up and down.

“You won’t have to if you agree to sneak in later.” You dropped the tension from your shoulders.

“I dunno ‘bout that one, love.”

“It’ll be fine.” You said, following him out onto the porch.

“We’ll see.” Joel opened the door for you and handed Pop one of the beers.

Pop was wearing a headband that was cut out to make it look like he’d been struck in the head with a butcher’s knife. You couldn’t manage to get Joel into a costume, but you resolved to make it happen next year. Next year. Your heart fluttered at the thought of him being yours for years to come.

You refilled the plastic bowl with candy, idly listening to the men talk about getting together to go fishing the next day. You’d love to get some sun while they fished, but you had to put in some overtime at work.

You looked over and watched the men bullshit, laughing and picking on each other. That nagging knot of guilt had returned, tightening in your stomach. You didn’t like keeping this secret from your father. You knew he wouldn’t rage, but you feared his disappointment.

You resolved to talk to Joel about coming forward with the truth when you had the chance to speak with him in private.

~

At around 9 PM the trick-or-treaters had finally stopped showing up for candy. You were anxiously waiting for Pop to go to bed, but he’d kept drinking with Joel. They moved their little two person party to the backyard and you no longer had an excuse to be near them. You felt like you were crowding them so you went to your room, letting them have their guy time.

After a long bath you slipped into a cozy set of pajamas and went over some work stuff on your laptop while listening to music. You were promoted to a managerial role and you had to manage inventory, reassigning it to your peers for production. You were well-liked at the office which made your job more enjoyable.

An hour later you were dozing off, too tired to turn off the lights in your room. Some time later you heard the door click shut and you tried to lift your head to see who it was. You saw the lights dim from behind your heavy eyelids and you smiled gratefully.

“Baby,” Joel whispered, then you heard him blow out the candle you had lit before settling down.

“Hmm…” You moaned.

“I’m here, can I lay down with you?”

You nodded, scooting over and opening your arms. He kicked off his boots quietly and settled into your bed. He smelled like beer and the outside air. You smiled, pulling him to face you. You opened your eyes and blinked as they adjusted to the darkness.

“I missed you.” Joel breathed.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, I was wondering where you went off to.”

“Just wanted to give you some space.”

“That’s the last thing I want from you.” He said, tracing shapes onto your upper arm with his fingers.

Your heart melted, comforted by the warmth coming from his body. You had no idea that Joel Miller had such a tender spot in his heart for anyone.

You couldn’t hide your smile, not even in the dark. Joel leaned forward and captured your mouth with his. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His hand traveled from your upper arm down the side of your body, stopping at your thigh and lifting it to wrap around his waist. You suddenly had a second heartbeat pulsing at your core.

“Oh, wait.” You sat up for a moment and reached onto your bedside table, plucking the cat ears from it and putting them onto your head. You pushed Joel onto his back and climbed on top of him.

“You’re the cutest fuckin’ thing.” Joel said, his hands coming up to stroke your thighs.

“I’m glad you think so,” You smiled down at him, “I couldn’t stop thinking about wearing these for you.”

“You couldn’t, huh?” You could hear Joel’s smirk, “What did you think about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Mhm.” Joel’s hands found your hips and started to dig his thumbs into your flesh.

“I thought about this, about you and your magic touch.”

“You like my touch, huh?” You felt Joel’s arousal growing beneath your ass.

“Isn’t it obvious? No one has ever made me feel the way you do.”

“I’m not too old to give it to you the way you deserve, darlin’” He chuckled.

“Never said you were.”

“I feel like a dirty old man sometimes.”

“Joel, you’re not even that old,” you said, pressing your hands onto his chest, “Yet.”

“I think you like that.” Joel teased.

“Isn’t that obvious?” You leaned down and captured his mouth with yours.

His hands found their way up your pajama shirt. His fingers brushed your sensitive nipples and you shuddered, pressing down against the bulge in his jeans. You rolled your hips as Joel’s tongue searched your mouth like he was hoping to find something. You moaned when he pinched your nipples, heat pooling just below your stomach.

“You’re my dirty old man.” You teased, continuing to grind against him.

Joel grunted, shifting you over and onto your back as he hovered above you. He was about to go to town on you when there was a creak down the hallway outside of your door and you both froze. You followed the sound of footsteps from Pop’s room to the living room, to the front door, the locks clicked and then the footsteps returned to the hallway, disappearing at Pop’s bedroom again. You and Joel both exhaled with relief before he plopped back down on the bed beside you. It was too close of a call for Joel.

”So, when are we gonna tell him?” You asked, leaning up and laying your head on his chest.

“And here I thought you wanted to get busted.” He whispered back to you.

”Very funny, it’s not my fault I need something only you can give me.”

”Is that all I am to you now, woman?”

”Absolutely not. I still need more guitar lessons too.” You joked, kissing his chest through his t-shirt.

“God. Can’t believe we almost happened that day.” Joel said, his voice sounding tired and gritty.

”If you would’ve just gone with the flow I’d probably be knocked up by now.” You chuckled.

Joel remained silent. Suddenly you were backtracking. You couldn’t figure out if it was what you’d said or something else that caused his sudden silence.

“Joel?”

”Hmm?”

”Are you falling asleep?”

”Not yet.”

”Why’d you stop talking to me?”

“Something you said.”

”The joke about pregnancy, right?”

”Yep, I’ve been an idiot. I’m sorry, we should have had a conversation about that stuff.”

“What about it?”

”Just dunno if I want to be a father again.”

Your heart pounded, you hadn’t meant to spring such an important topic on him so casually. You mentally smacked yourself. Now you had to face the idea of never experiencing motherhood.

“Oh, I see.” You pulled away from him.

“I didn’t ever consider it before you.” He said, pulling you back against him.

“Well, I hadn’t given the idea of having children too much thought, but I don’t like the idea of definitely never having them.”

“I just mean, we haven’t been very careful. We should start.” Joel said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Least till’ we make a decision about it together.”

You nodded, deciding to put the conversation away for another day. You two had been acting mostly in the heat of your stolen moments alone. You didn’t want to jump the gun on your new unofficial relationship with your dad’s best friend.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence Joel leaned over and checked his phone. “Sarah’s about to be home, I have to go, baby.” He whispered, sitting up.

You followed him to the door of your room, preparing a route to sneak him out of your house without alerting Pop. You went to do a sweep of the house and then returned to him, guiding him to the door where he stopped to put his boots on before giving you a kiss and heading home.

You found it funny, the fact that you were home and it didn’t quite feel like it once he was gone.

tag list: @foxin5billion & @persiar9 ♡

[littlestpersimmon]

"le plaisir délicieux... d'une occupation inutile"

is the opening quote of dragons dogma II, and its greatest theme is the question of what you will do to a role thrust upon you.. In a sense; if you can even walk away from Dharma, what are the lengths you would go to?

Basically, the dragon represents = struggle, and the arisen is it's chosen hero to wrestle with. The dragon steals the arisen's heart but the arisen doesn't die. Instead it makes them immortal, with the sole mission of standing up to the dragon to restore their heart. This struggle is sort of like the engine that keeps their world going, yin and yang in the most philosophical way. If there is evil, good will rise to stand against it. Pawns are your eternal servants, they're beings pulled from a metaphysical realm, and they only answer to the arisen. But they are basically beings who do not have their own sense of self, no will, no anything. But as the game continues, and they travel with you, they gain a soul through your actions, and they tell the arisen: you do not stand alone. I had my friend's pawn travelling with me when we killed the dragon together. You can have a number of endings in dragons dogma I.

1. You can walk away from the dragon. He kills your beloved for your cowardice, and you are driven insane despite being granted immeasurable power. That the responsibility you walked away from, will still come for you, it will still reckon with you.

2. You can slay the dragon, save the princess, and be unsatisfied in your complacency, in only doing what you're told without doing anything more.

3. it is canon that when you do not have the strength to defeat the true final boss, you become the dragon to look for your own replacement. And

4. You defeat the dragon, and you continue to seek the deeper meaning of the world, and confront the root of everything, who the hell sent the dragon? You find out its this being called the Seneschal, the steward of the world, who has grown weary, and wanted someone to herald the world in their place, someone worthy, brave, principled. In game, the seneschal has no official design. They were a previous arisen who defeated their own dragon, and then face who sent the dragon; The Seneschal- Who manifests in dragons dogma as other, previous players who have already beaten the game: You fight the spirit of another, real player who has already overcome the game. In the game, when you defeat the seneschal and take their place. You get to become a small spirit, and wander around the world, looking at all the friends you made, your beloved, and you can't say goodbye to them, they can't see you, they're just wondering where you are before you take your place as the new steward of the world- or you can literally end your life with a magic sword called the "godsbane" before you can ever become the seneschal, in complete defiance of what the game was building up to, the "dragon's dogma", in a sense.

Cycles are something inherently neutral, a law of the universe where it does not seek a final ending, no rapture. Dragons Dogma 2 is built on the same narrative. But when you open the game.. it just says "dragons dogma." And people were wondering, huh. Where's the "2"?

Dragons Dogma 1, has this, totally overwhelming sense of grief. but it also has this, very deep attention to detail. For example, when you fall into the water, your lantern dies. a character with shorter legs; walk slower, can't climb monsters fast, can't run fast. A fat character can carry lots of stuff, and can't be knocked down easily. A skinny character can squeeze in small spaces, can get stunned easily. You can throw oil bottles at something, and then throw a ball of fire at it and it will explode. The thing is, despite being so detail oriented, all the freedom to go and do wherever you go, wherever you please, you are still followed, still restrained by the shadow of a dragon. Every kingdom you go to is bruised by the dragon, evil things crawl out of the depths of the world as a symptom,the coming of a dragon essentially means the end of the world, Unless the arisen comes to stop it. So every character you talk to, every problem you come to solve, from a squabble to a skirmish tells you, please, kill the dragon.

Dragons Dogma 2's secret and "true" ending, is that you have to kill yourself while climbing into a hollow in the dragon's chest, literally climbing into the heart of the struggle.

The. Amount of pain, and loss it took to even just get to the dragon is, overwhelming. When I stabbed the dragon, a ghost from earlier, one who haunted your every step as arisen, the one who sees all,..not a god, more like an enforcer of the laws of the world will appear- they come to you, angry. They thrust you into the sea, trying to bury you. What are you doing?? Because, you strayed from the written rules.. you strayed from the "dragon's dogma".

Illusions of your old friends will appear, and they ask you to come back, finish the story, be the arisen, the dragonslayer. And you refuse. And you are thrust into this, viscera, this world of utter ruin, absolute decay, a merciless world that is completely furious at you for abandoning it. And then. The title drops. Dragon's Dogma 2. Dragons. fucking. Dogma.2. 150 hours in. There's so many aspects and philosophies of the game that become so inherent when you enter this last phase, but.. the title drops there, because you essentially forced the story to tell you another one, carve out a new ending for you and your pawn in the wood of its old foundation.

the game is angry at you, it consumes itself in front of you; you can even sense it gnawing at itself. The more you sleep in the game to heal, the more the map shrinks. But you and your pawn face the heart of the game, one more time, fight the dragon at its core.. and die with your companion fighting. That's how the game truly ends, the world fading into something unknown, something else, different,.. new