#the colours and lighting is always so luscious

[dingoat]

The Emperor

Upright: authority, structure, control, fatherhood  Reversed: tyranny, rigidity, coldness

Super pumped to be able to include another piece by @mafumafuriah (@mafuriah on twitter) in my tarot project, this time featuring the big bad himself! Mafu is always such an absolute delight to work with and I can't recommend her art enough.

[rhenuvee]

Warnings: lots of kissies, established relationship, suggestive (bc of author simping), a little angsty in the last one..?

For Diluc (aka my beloved)'s birthday: Diluc stans, which AU do we like him in?

CEO!Diluc who looks so refined and handsome everyday in his crisp suit. His employees are intimidated by his cold gaze, and don't dare get in his way. Not you though- because Diluc's favourite part of his work days are when you visit him, bringing him a light snack or a drink (to which he grumbles because he insists it's his job to spoil you), completely void of his usually serious demeanour. He finds it especially frustrating whenever an employee bursts in, interrupting you fixing his tie or midway towards a kiss. He will not allow his workers to see him in a flustered state- that is reserved for you.

Rockstar!Diluc who doesn't understand the reason for his popularity. You beg to differ- you always tell him how hot he looks, all mysterious and badass when he's wearing dark colours and the silver accessories that accentuate his look. The way his bangs stick to his forehead, the way his fingers skillfully pluck the strings of his guitar. Sure, performing is exhilarating, but his favourite part about it is when it's intermission- a time where his attention is on you. Where he has you sat on his lap, dazed and admiring your beauty, stroking your cheek, giving you light kisses here and there. It couldn't get better than this.

Hockeyplayer!Diluc who looks gorgeous when he takes off his helmet, revealing his long luscious red hair. You praise him, cooing on how hot and rugged he looks after playing a tough game. He's grateful for having something that covers his face at all times, otherwise his teammates would catch him blushing. He denies your statements, claiming you're exaggerating- yet he will let you hold onto his muscular arms every time. He's sweaty after a game and doesn't want to disgust you, but you're always there to remind him that you love him, sweaty or not.

Fireman!Diluc who genuinely just wants to do good for the community and needs you to stop gushing over him in uniform- or even better worse, without a shirt on. He finds it quite ridiculous how you keep the newspaper of when he saved a cat and his bare forearms were visible on the front page. You shamelessly stare when he comes home taking off his jacket, leaving only his bare chest to ogle at. He catches you every time, resulting in him blushing which he hopes you don't see. So he effortlessly picks you up with your legs hooked around his waist in his strong, beefy arms and wonders, what is he gonna do with you?

Racer!Diluc who always shows up on time at the end of class/work to pick you up in his sports car. He waits for you leaning on his vehicle, until he takes your hand and opens the passenger door for you before kissing your hand like the gentleman he is. He kisses your forehead and caresses your cheek sweetly before departing to start his race. And after a long night of you cheering for his win (which he claims is because of you), he doesn't fail to notice you getting sleepy. He coos as how you try to stay awake, but he once he carries you to the car, he bringing your head to rest on his shoulder, lightly lulling you to sleep.

Prince!Diluc who, despite his high status, treats you like absolute royalty. There is always gossip about the young prince, how handsome and eligible he would be to marry another heir of a neighbouring kingdom. But he pays it no mind- for he is already happily together with you. When it is time for the ball, his eyes go soft, when he sees you in your gown. You ask if you look okay and Diluc can only bury his head in your shoulder, telling you how beautiful you are in between kisses. Every kiss, every dance, every flower- it's yours.

Vampire!Diluc who curses himself for being so greedy with you. Despite him being a supernatural and dangerous being, he retains his gentleness when it comes to you, and you only. When it's time to feed, he feels his heart sink every time because it hurts you. He kisses the spot where he bit as a way to relieve the pain, and brings you whatever you need to relax again. Because of that he clings to you dearly, and is willing to do anything to protect you.

Which Diluc is your fave? Mine personally is fireman!-Luc but you know I’ll take any Diluc any day <3

[sailor-sun-18]

~`Ballroom drabbles featuring Neuvillette, Columbina and Lyney.

~`Recommended song: Love Story - Indila

~`Let me carry you away, tonight.

NEUVILLETTE

The clinking of glass filled the air, along with the never-ending chatter with words of silver and golden wine. From the ceiling, chandeliers hung in all their glory of glistening diamond lights, shrouding the room under the spell of an enchanted fairytale.

People raised their glasses filled to the brim with glittering gold and crimson; a resounding applause echoed in the room, following the ending speech of Fontaine's Archon. Her hands moved animatedly, posture poised gracefully while her tone remained joyfully flamboyant.

You raised your own cup, lips curled into a smile as you all drank a courteous sip and the orchestra started its tune.

In no time, the white marble speckled with pink and silver resonated with the rhythmic clapping of heels whose owners were lost in their lovers' embrace, so tender and filled with unspoken affection as they let themselves sway along the notes of a simple yet elegant melody.

Your fingers traced absent-mindedly the rim of your cup where most of the wine lay untouched. Your eyes gazed with wonder at the twirling couples in the centre, unconsciously mimicking their movements as you swayed from one side to another. But your hues were focused on one person alone; the distinguished gentleman holding gently your Archon in an intimate embrace that seemed to radiate softness and unspoken affection.

Lady Furina smiled, lips stretched wide as she talked to her partner, who only nodded in response, sometimes chiding with words of his own.

For a moment, you wondered if you could be held like that too.

A tap on your shoulders halted your thoughts. You turned, eyes locking with that of an old friend. Their golden eyes crinkled slightly, "How is it?" they asked, knowing very well that was your first ball, "Feeling well?"

You gave them a small smile, as you nodded, while not-so-discreetly adding another one of those delicious delicacies filled with whipped cream and chocolate, something that prompted a laugh from them. They watched as you slowly nibbled on the pastry before stealing exactly the biggest one -the one you were carefully reserving for last- of the bunch. Their laughter continued merrily, despite your enraged protests consisting of how 'true friends don't do this', to which they answered that 'friends do, in fact, this' leaving the: 'to their favourite victim- friend' rule unspoken.

Cue the gloomy aura that soon descended on your face, as if a cloud had decided your head was the perfect home for its rain.

They laughed, poking mercilessly at your -fake- misery as you wiped away -again, fake- tears.

"Would a dance lift your spirits, my dear?" they asked, their mocking tone turning softer at the end. But before they could charm their way with sweet words, seeking for forgiveness, someone grabbed your hand and dragged you away, leaving your blond-haired friend completely dumbfounded.

Long white hair greeted your vision as luscious light blue stray strands tickled your cheeks as you stared, almost rudely, at your Archon, who didn't seem to notice until you failed to respond to one of her questions. Something that made her huff, comically appalled, as she turned towards you, before freezing completely. A flash of panic in her mismatched eye drops that was soon concealed by a flutter of lashes.

But Lady Furina, always someone for theatrics, just said something so incredibly flashy that the words just flew over your head before sliding away, hurriedly but still with an air of elegance, probably to mask her embarrassment behind the tallest tower of cake she could find.

But that left you, alone in the centre of the dance floor, where couples still twirled joyfully, without a care in their love-filled worlds. You turned and turned, searching for an exit, your robes somehow fluttering along their own colourful ones, when a hand was placed before you, palm outstretched and gloved fingers curling in a shy invitation.

"Please, allow me."

The alluring eyes of the Iudex stared at you, through long eyelashes. Their pink and violet hues masking a blue so deep; it resembled that of the sea written in fairytales: so dark yet so mesmerising.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I saw you were quite flustered, here, alone by yourself."

"It's...- you pursued your lips, flustered -fine. Thank you."

You slowly lay your hand on his, as you let him sweep you off your feet. Monsieur Neuvillette smiled softly as the two of you swayed together, the music blurring into the background, accompanying the shared chatter between the two of you.

His hold on you was delicate, almost afraid, as his deep timbre gained a softer and rounder edge. He twirled you, gently, his hands never leaving yours, fingers almost intertwined.

And some time in your dance, you caught sight of Lady Furina standing on the sidelines. Her mismatched eyes locked with yours; they crinkled slightly into two crescent moons as her hands covered her lips in a silencing gesture.

COLUMBINA

Broken shards reflected a thousand images, their sharp edges accentuating your features in speckles of gold as the broken image of your reflection stared back at you. You hummed a quiet melody as you traced absent-mindedly the golden rim, following every curve. A knock came from the door; "Come in," you said, mind still trapped into a never-ending loop. It spinned and spinned like the spindle of a fairytale. Meanwhile, your maid entered the room; her warm, gentle eyes widening at the sight of the broken mirror and the small wet and red trails circling your wrists. "Oh, dear child- she gently pricked the shards from your hands, making you sit on your bed as she grabbed your stained palms, -what happened?" she asked, fussing over you as she had always done during her younger years. You didn't give her an answer, not that she needed one as her brown hues softened once again, one of her gloved hands moving to cup your cheek, thumb tracing the faint red lines under your eye, "Don't worry, dear. Everything will fall back into its place. Now go and enjoy your birthday." and moved to smooth the wrinkles of your robes. She huffed, smiling in satisfaction, "There, now you're perfect.", as you gave her a small smile of your own. Hours passed by in a blur of colours and sweet notes of wine and music. Your gaze lingered on the dance floor, irises moving from one couple to another until a bitter taste coated your tongue. You should have been there, in your lover's arms, dancing to your hearts' content until the clock struck midnight when you would place a gentle kiss on her bold, red lips. Alas, fate was cruel, and in the place of her warm embrace was the unforgiving and cold truth of cheating behind backs and unsuspecting affection. The wine seemed to turn stale in your hands, that tightened over the transparent glass until you felt the sensation of smooth gloves cover them, halting that spiraling path of self-destruction. First, there were locks of obsidian, so long that they seemed to tie into ribbons at the ends; then the white of feathers, so pure and untouched, the colour alone sparkling bitter envy in shapes of yellow roses and marigolds. Closed eyes crinkled in delight behind a lace mask. "Wouldn't want to hurt yourself, again." she said, her tone as light as the feathers she carried on her hair. Her hold seemed to tighten over yours, "Why are you here?" she said, legs dangling from the balcony with childlike glee. You opened your mouth to respond -your gaze trailed once again on the ballroom, on the same lady who donned that sparkling red dress that complimented her bold lips perfectly- when an airy light giggle came from the dark-haired lady as she stepped down, her shoes landing on the white marble with no sound. You stood there, mouth slightly agape as she neared her face to yours, lips near your ear, her laugh airy, like a faerie's bell. She looked at you, with eyes lidded -it was still impossible to see their colour- and outstretched her arm, hand poised in midair: a silent invitation. And there was something, something so extremely captivating about her, that nullified all of your thoughts because as her fingers curled around your own, bringing you to the dance floor, you couldn't find in yourself to mind. People blurred in colours around your twirling figures. Columbina -as she had previously introduced herself- smiled lightly, humming quietly to the melody, before her head tilted slightly to the side. Your eyes followed her movement where you were met with the sight of your enraged ex-fiancé, sputtering venomous words -sounding more and more like 'how could you!" and 'betray'- in barely concealed rage at her dancing partner. Your stared, flabbergasted, when the next twirl brought your attention back to your own partner, her rosy lips wide with innocence, which prompted a laugh from your own. For a moment, when your laughter clouded your judgment, eyes crinkling shut with mirth, her own hues opened, a colour so unspokenly captivating, swirling with delight, under the envious gaze of a certain lady.

LYNEY

Voices rose around the stage, whispers of excitement and trepidation filled the room adorned by colours of crimson red and pure, clean white. Couples stopped in their dance, as more and more people flocked towards the bold red curtains, holding their breath and waiting in anticipation once the orchestra reached its momentarily end; the sounds of instruments dimming with every passing second as if they, too, could not wait any longer for the famous Lyney and Lynette's Magic Show.

And their restless waiting was rewarded because, soon, lights started to dance across the stage like fireworks, while the long and bright crimson curtains unravelled like flowers, showcasing the two magicians in all their glory of ruby and aquamarine.

The first one to approach the edge was Lyney, "Welcome everyone-" arms outstretched as he welcomed the audience, his voice boisterous, thriving under the limelight. In his hand, he held a white rose that soon withered into a crown of cards falling at his feet.

He retreated a few steps as Lynette took place on his right, "-To our magic show." and finished his phrase, albeit with a more contained voice.

Among colourful flowers and fantastic tricks, you watched, eyes filled with admiration for the two magicians, basking into the particularly magical atmosphere they had created with the first and most simple tricks. And somewhere, along the way of the enchanted evening, you found your own irises locking with light lavender more than once; each time ending with a playful wink.

And as the two bowed together, bringing the enchanting show to an end, you clapped your hands, along with everyone else, who had been perfectly captivated by their sheer talent.

The previous hustle and bustle resumed almost immediately, as the violins, violas and piano made themselves known once again, taking on a more upbeat and quicker tune.

You stood on the sidelines, a glass in your hands, pristine pink rose coloured wine swirling in elegant waves. A sudden shiver crossed your arms, turning the small waves into a bit of a jumbled mess. Paying it no mind, -because the window in the back was open, allowing the cold fontainian air to sweep in with a dance of its own- you settled it on the table and moved to join the dance: a simple one with only a few repetitive steps, not too easy yet not too tiring.

You bowed curtly to your second partner, her soft cobalt irises curling upwards, framed by her long blond locks, perfectly styled in beautiful curls. The two of you danced for a bit, before the music required, once again, a change of partners.

Soon, deep hazel eyes stared at you, prompting a sudden shiver which made you turn your own irises down, blinking almost uncomfortably as you took the man's hand. And once it was time to swap, you found your arms firmly entangled with his own, as his deep laughter reached your ears.

Somehow, the music seemed to become louder, hurried, bordering on a panicked tone as you struggled to break free, nearly bruising yourself in the process.

But as his hold tightened, it soon loosened and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself lost in soft lilac ones. The magician's cheeky visage coming into vision as he winked at you, "Figured you needed some help." his pink lips curling upwards.

"Ah... thank you."

He smiled wider, "There's no need to thank me."

His hold was gentle and almost imperceptibly soft as his thumbs slowly drew comforting circles, seeking both to ground your flustered self and to ease your worries as you finally breathed, fingers curling around the expensive red and black fabric, like a small child clinging to a mother; an action he didn't seem to mind.

"Thanks..." you repeated, lungs burning greedily, a new kind of warmth blossoming on your cheeks.

"No need" he repeated, holding you closer.

The music turned louder, no longer muffled by sheer anxiety and arising goosebumps but spurred by soft words and bashful, genuine smiles.

And when Lyney bowed one last time to his new dance partner, -a fairy skinned blond young man- proceeding to head for the sidelines, to his awaiting sister. He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing at a certain gentleman -who was conveniently his target for the night- cowering under his gaze, a lone withered rainbow rose between his hands. As he joined Lynette's side once again, his lavender irises always managed to find their way back to you, admiring the way you danced, robes fluttering elegantly behind you. And-

Ah... he forgot to ask your name.

Lynette just sighed at her brother.

[writeslikeanaria]

she made me do it

sebastian sallow x reader

summary: you catch your best friend in his most intimate moment and watch (self indulgent writing practice)

word count: 1k+

warnings: pervert!reader, self pleasure, gratuitous descriptions of sebastian, SMUT

You had a very tight routine with your best friend Sebastian. Being someone who held their own time in high respect, if you had a routine, you followed it. Which is why you always followed through with Thursday night study night.

During this time, the sun would have finally fallen past the hills in the distance, and the sky would have finally coloured itself a navy blue. Glistening lights in the sky above signalled that you had somewhere to be. Like clockwork, your feet carried you to the Slytherin boy’s dormitory, countless books in hand, with a satchel thrown over your shoulder, full of fresh parchment and aromatic ink.

It was always you and Sebastian, sprawled across the floor, textbooks decorating the ground like coloured tiles. Some nights, you would even drift off into a careless slumber as knowledge filled your brain. Ominous never joined you, as he himself had plans of his own, discluding you two, not that you minded. Spending time with Sebastian often gave you butterflies.

Which is why you were always so excited to bundle into his room and gaze at him as you worked. Sure, you harboured a docile crush towards the brunet, but you kept it to yourself, never speaking those three vulnerable words out loud. Even if you dreamed every night about his curious eyes, and luscious hair, and long, nimble fingers, attached to his toned arms…

This night was nothing different than usual. The sun had set, so you had begun your journey to Sebastian’s room, but as you closed in on his door, you realised that this night was so widely different from every other night.

Through the small crack in the door, your ears picked up on the gentle hum of Sebastian’s purring. His low voice seemed somehow lower and he was vocalising in the most enticing way. You couldn’t believe it; he was moaning.

At first, you assumed your good friend was in pain, but as you pressed your ear to the door, you realised you were wrong. Through the soft murmurings of his moans, you could also hear the squelching noises of wet against skin. You had no doubt about what Sebastian was doing in the room next door.

But surely you were mistaken, as Sebastian would never forget about your scheduled weekly study. While your brain was trying to sift through every viable reason why Sebastian could be making the most delicious noises behind the door, your lower stomach was pulsing, your cunt tightening around nothing, crying and whining over the lack of attention. With your body against the door, you quietly let your fingers dance around the waistline of your skirt, until it was resting just above your panties.

You contemplated your perverted desires. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but the devil on your shoulder had tied your angel in ropes, and encouraged you to enfilage in the dangers of lust. Rationally, you knew you should leave, and you even got to the point where your hands left your burning skin, but one small noise stopped your fingers departure.

“…Y/N…”

Your mouth ran dry, with all the wetness travelling straight to your cunt. You nearly moaned at Sebastian’s sweet confession, a confession you knew you were never supposed to hear. Every fibre of your being told you to leave, to forgot the beautiful noises you heard, and to respect the privacy of your best friend, but that devil wouldn’t stop persuading you.

Hovering over the door handle, you contemplated, before reaching for your wand and casting a short “silenco” through the lock. At once, the sounds stopped, and your greedy girl down below retaliated with an aggressive clench. You had upset the devil, and now she was taking control.

You knew it was wrong as you turned the door handle. You knew it was wrong as you casted a disillusionment charm over yourself. You knew it was wrong when you crept silently into Sebastian’s private chambers, but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as you were in ear shot of his sweet noises once again, the devil was satiated.

This time, you could see the brunet in all his glory, and boy, did it make your heart flutter. Spread gorgeously across his emerald sheets, his bare, toned chest was exposed to the world, with a dim candle casting shadows across his muscles, accentuating the curve of his chest and stomach. A glistening sheen of sweat covering his body, adding to the look of lust.

His head was thrown back against his pillow, eyes clenched shut, perfect lips caught between his teeth and his fist worked over time on his cock.

His cock.

Oh, how it was a marvellous sight. Strong and large, the colour of deep scarlet decorating the tip, with pearly white precum generously pouring out. You licked your lips as your watched how furiously he beat his own meat.

“Oh- oh! Nggg—”

You could tell how he was trying to hold in his voice, but you couldn’t be happier that he was failing. The tension in his thick thighs was delicious to watch, as you took notes on the way he pleasured himself. You studied his attempts at teasing, sometimes slowing down his rhythm to slowly trace the underside of his cock, to take in massive gulps of breath.

How greedy.

The devil on your shoulder agreed with your sentiments, giggling to herself. In your ear, you could hear her whispering about all the things you could be doing to Sebastian right now. How you could have him at your mercy, whining and begging for you directly, as you licked up his thick cock. You could be teasing him, making eye contact with him, bathing in those brown puppy dog eyes of his.

Your fingers were now in your panties, rubbing tight circles across your clit, as your eyes were fixed on Sebastian and his task at hand. You tried your best at matching his rhythm, but you were indulgent to yourself, letting your own fingers filled you slightly, as you stroked your puffy lips with vigour.

Lost in your own pleasure, you nearly missed the way Sebastian’s voice elevated, crying out your name one last time. Luckily, the devil peeled your eyes open, allowing you to see the splattering of cum erupt out of the tip of his cock, coating his chest. His lungs were filling with air as he laid there in his afterglow, sucking in breath after breath. You removed your hand from your panties, not allowing yourself that same pleasure.

You were determined that the next time you would cum would be from Sebastian’s fingers, not your own.

~~

haven’t written in over a year + haven’t written for hogwarts legacy before so i thought i’d get some practice in before i write my big fic idea.

coming soon: poly juice + ominis + sebastian

[gabessquishytum]

College AU

Hob was sitting in his Speech Class bouncing his leg. They were going to deliver their big speeches today on why they were artists. Hob didn’t like looking at the guy across from him directly, he just had a dark broody aura about him. The guy dressed head to toe in black, had eyeliner dripping down his cheeks and black messy hair. Hob never talked to him really all he knew was that his name was Dream. Hob hated listening to the speeches, then Dream is called up. He talks about how art should be dark and uncomfortable, how being comfortable all the time is stupid especially in art. The direct antithesis to Hob’s which was about how art can bring hope and light to a cruel world. Hob can feel Dream glaring at him when he gives his own speech.

After class Hob is suddenly shoved and pinned against the wall.

“How dare you!”

It’s dream, he’s tiny but his grip is strong.

“You undercut everything in my speech you stupid jock! How am I supposed to be taken seriously? Art shouldn’t be turned away from the world it should reflect it!”

“Can you let go of me?”

Dream lets him go. Hob brushes himself off.

“Art should reflect the world, the world is beautiful”

Dream looks incensed.

“How could you say such a thing?”

Hob motions for Dream to follow him.

Hob takes the long walk back to the dorm full of parks and natural beauty.

“This is my walk home everyday, isn’t it lovely?”

“It would be more efficient to take the bus,” dream grumbles.

“Sure, but I’d miss out on all of this,”

He motions to the luscious greenery around them.

“I had a dream like this once” Dream muses.

“I wanna show you art the way I see it, you wanna go back to my dorm and watch a tv show?”

Dream looked reluctant.

“I don’t want sex”

“Wasn’t on the table” Hob responses quickly.

Dream looked confused. “You really just want to watch tv?”

“I mean yeah?”

“My apologies I’m just so used to guys just wanting me for-“

Hob stops him. “No need to explain love, cmon”

Hob’s dorm is colorful. It’s mesmerizing, hob leads dream to the couch sitting a respectful distance away.

“I want to introduce you to something called Fraggle Rock”

Dream gives him a look.

“That is a children’s show,”

Hob does not pay attention to him and hits play.

By the end of it Dream is inconsolable.

“They are so silly… but they love each other, their world is beautiful and bright,”

Hob simply nodded, now Dream was getting it.

Soon Dream adds more color to his wardrobe (very dark purple and blue) and Hob sees the merit in disturbing art. They’ve become a bit like each other, a balancing out force for the better. And Dream’s end of the year speech talks about how both comfort and disturbance belong in art.

-🦎anon

This is adorable. "Disturb the comforted and comfort the disturbed" is such a dreamling vibe. Both perspectives can be true and both experiences of the world are equally meaningful.

And I honestly don't think we talk enough about Hob as an artist!!!! Of course it makes sense for Dream to make art, but I truly believe that Hob would also make a wonderful artist. I can really see him as a sculpter or maybe working with ceramics - something that really gets his hands into the clay, probably making the biggest mess you can imagine. I figure he probably makes some pretty fucked up disturbing art (maybe Dream’s influence shows here), because after a long time trying to make everything positive and cheerful, he eventually sees that the truth of the world is kind of dark sometimes! And that's actually an okay thing for him to express in his work. He doesn't have to try and make everyone happy. He can just be himself!

Dream is a big fan of Hob’s dark periods and definitely ends up being one of his first customers. But he also has a soft spot for Hob’s radiant, gentle art. Hob’s art is definitely the only primary colour allowed into Dream’s house!!! Along with Hob himself, of course - he is always welcome, no matter how garish his outfits may be!

[lemoncrushh]

Victoria's Secret

Summary: Harry meets Victoria, a beautiful plus-size woman, at a party and is quite smitten with her.

Warnings: smut, body image issues - 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 3216

A/N: One of my early one shots from 2016. Written from Harry's POV.

I saw her from across the room. I wondered if we'd met before, and I racked my brain trying to recall where we might have, or perhaps some kind of clue as to what her name was, but I came up blank. She had a familiar face, though. One of those kind faces that's easy to talk to, someone you instantly want to get to know.

I watched her for a few minutes while she mingled with a handful of people, faceless people. I couldn't even tell you if they were male or female. My eyes were set on her.

She had reddish-brown hair, or perhaps it was coloured, I couldn't really tell. It fell past her shoulders in soft waves that framed her pretty face. She had full lips that I enjoyed watching move while she spoke, though I couldn't make out the words. She wore a black dress that accentuated her full curves with confidence and taste, and a bit of modesty. I was quite taken with her.

After a while I realised I must have looked like a fool for staring, so I averted my gaze and made my way to the open bar. Ordering a drink, I turned around to look in her direction again. We made eye contact, and she smiled.

I think I smiled back. I was sure I did. But all I could think about was the blood pumping through my veins at triple speed, making me feel light-headed. She was stunning.

As quickly as she'd acknowledged me, she'd turned away. Another woman standing next to her had a hold of her arm, and it looked as though she was introducing her to someone else. I watched her shake hands with him, instantly feeling a ping of jealousy.

I wanted to go up to her and introduce myself, but my feet were resolved to keep me bolted to the ground. I shook my head, internally calling myself a git and a wanker, no doubt the biggest idiot in the room. I had no problem talking to women. I had no idea why this should be any different.

I took a massive gulp from my glass, setting it on the bar. Then after letting out a few deep breaths, I turned around again, determined to at least go say hello.

As soon as I took a step toward her, our eyes met again. This time I know I smiled, and she returned it with one of her own before biting her bottom lip. That luscious, full, bottom lip.

"Hey, Styles, how's it going?" I heard a voice to my left.

Narrowing my eyes in frustration, I greeted the man, exchanging pleasantries. I'd already forgotten his name from the last time we'd met, but it didn't seem to matter. He patted my shoulder before strolling past me to the bar, finally allowing me to continue my mission.

My annoyance only grew as I was stopped by more people along the way, but I did my best to give them my attention like I always do. When the last two people decided to make small talk with me, I shifted my gaze to see if the lovely lady was still where she'd been standing. She was, only now she had a semi-circle of people standing around her. I watched her laugh at something one of the other girls had said, throwing her head back before covering her mouth with her hand. I couldn't help but smile. She had a great laugh, and she looked beautiful while doing it.

I heard one of the girls I'd been chatting with, a model I think, say something to me, so I turned my attention back to her, but only to kindly excuse myself. She was pretty and nice enough, but I had my sights set on someone else tonight.

Finally, I was two steps away. I stood behind one of the women she was talking to, my eyes focused on hers, silently willing her to look up at me. When she did, her face broke into a smile again, lighting up the room. The woman to whom she'd been conversing must have noticed, because she turned around.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking up at me. "Harry!"

"Hello," I nodded.

This woman also looked familiar, but in a different way. She quickly introduced herself, and I recognised her name.

"This is my dear friend, Victoria," she said, gesturing toward the woman I'd come to meet. "I think she's kind of a fan of yours."

"Stop it," muttered Victoria, poking her friend in the arm.

I grinned as I held out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Victoria."

"How do you do," she smiled, shaking my hand.

I wasn't sure if it was her smile or her soft hand that sent a bolt of electricity throughout my body, but perhaps it was a little of both. Now that I was up close, I noticed she was even prettier. She was not a small, petite girl. She was a bigger gal, with womanly curves. And as far as I was concerned, she could rival anyone's beauty in the entire room. I felt drawn to her, and we'd only just been introduced.

Our eyes seemed to be locked on each other until I heard her friend, whose name now escapes me, clear her throat.

"I think I'm going to get another drink," she announced.

"Okay," nodded Victoria, not peeling her gaze from me.

I smirked as she bit her bottom lip again. If she was going to continue doing that, I might just have to grab her and kiss her right there.

"So, Victoria," I said, "have we met before? You look really familiar to me."

She giggled, shaking her head. "God, no."

"Are you sure?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm quite certain I would remember."

"Okay then," I chuckled. "Maybe it was in a dream."

Victoria was silent for a moment until she let out a sound. "Pppffff. Is that some sort of a line?"

"No," I narrowed my eyes and shrugged.

I wasn't angry with her for thinking that; I was more perturbed at myself for saying it out loud. It was pretty cheesy.

Her face softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"No, no," I waved it off, "I'm sorry. That was a dumb thing to say."

I cursed myself as I looked around the room, thinking for sure she was about ready to tell me to get lost.

"No, it wasn't," I heard her say. "It was kinda cute."

I shook my head at the ground before lifting it to look at her again. She had the prettiest glow about her. I couldn't quite describe it. I wanted to know her, to hold her, to kiss her. I placed my hand over my heart.

"I apologise for the cheesy line."

"Apology accepted," she grinned.

Victoria and I spent the next two hours or so getting to know each other. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her, and the more attracted I was to her. There was no doubt there had been a spark when I first saw her, but after spending time with her, I could tell it was full blown chemistry. I wanted her, and her flirtatious personality and body language told me she felt the same.

As usual, other people came up to me during the night, and though I stopped to talk to them, I never left Victoria's side, nor did she mine, except to go to the bar and return with drinks.

As the end of the night approached, I began to feel anxious. I didn't want to say goodbye to Victoria, though I was certain if I asked to see her again she would have said yes. The words that came out of her mouth as she set her empty glass on the bar surprised me, however.

"Harry," she said, looking up at me with her big brown eyes, "I'm afraid I don't have a ride."

"What?" I raised my eyebrows.

"My friends left long ago," she confessed, a shy smile on her lips.

She didn't have to tell me any more. I knew what she meant. I actually felt my heart flutter and my stomach do a flip as I stood up and offered her my hand. She took it with no hesitation, and I led her to the exit.

We were silent in the car until I asked her where she was staying. When she told me, I then told the driver before gently placing my hand on her knee. She smiled up at me, giving me a signal that she was okay with my touching her. Leaning closer, I paused before lowering my mouth onto hers. She tasted sweet, like the cocktails she'd been drinking all evening, sending a buzz throughout my nervous system, like a bolt of electricity.

The car pulled in front of the hotel in what seemed liked mere seconds, the driver opening the door on my side. I stepped out, turning around to take Victoria's hand. With my hand on the small of her back, I walked with her to the lift. She was quiet on the ride up to her floor, but I couldn't stop staring at her. I couldn't wait to get to her room and undress her.

When the lift doors opened, she jumped a little, like she'd been in deep thought. I grinned to myself, knowing she'd been thinking about me and what was to come.

I stood next to her as she opened her small handbag and pulled out a room key, sliding it into the slot to unlock the door. She remained quiet as I followed her in the room, letting the door shut behind me. I watched her as she tossed her bag in the chair beside the window before turning around to face me. She had another of her lovely smiles on her face, but this one was underlined with nerves.

Wanting to put her at ease, I stepped closer to her and took her hands in mine. I rubbed the backs of them with my thumbs as I gazed into her eyes. Then ever so slightly, I lifted one hand to her neck, pulling her to me and kissing her soft lips.

She sighed as her body leaned into mine. My mouth still covering hers, I shook out of my jacket, tossing it on the chair where she'd dropped her bag. Then I grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against me, so close I could feel her heartbeat.

I continued to kiss her as her hands found the back of my head, letting me know she enjoyed being kissed and wasn't wanting to stop any time soon. That was fine with me. She had such kissable lips.

After exploring her mouth with my tongue, I moved my lips across her cheek to her ear, allowing her a moment to catch her breath.

"Harry..." she whispered as my lips travelled down to her neck.

The vibration of her voice against my mouth sent me into overdrive. I felt myself get hard almost instantly. Her skin was so soft, I wanted to explore every bit.

My mouth found hers again as my hands ran up her back, finding the top of the zipper. Just as I began to pull it down, her hands gripped my elbows.

"Wait," she breathed, pulling away from the kiss.

"What is it?" I asked.

I suddenly realised she was trembling, a look of apprehension on her face.

"Hey," I said, sliding my hands under her ears, "There's no need to be nervous with me."

She made a sound, like an incredulous laugh as she shook her head. "Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm not," I confirmed. "I want you, Victoria."

I kissed her plump lips softly, gently sliding my tongue in between to meet hers. I felt her body relax, leaning into mine as I slid my right hand down to cup her breast. When I separated my mouth from hers, I gazed into her eyes.

"Do you want me?" I murmured.

She bit her lip and slowly nodded. "Yes, but..."

"But what?"

Victoria hesitated for a moment before lowering her eyes.

"My body," she whispered.

I quickly clipped her chin with my finger, lifting it up so that she'd look at me.

"You're beautiful."

"No, I'm not," she rolled her eyes. "I'm gross."

I furrowed my brows. "Stop that."

She huffed out a sigh, her shoulders dropping.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Trying my best to reassure her that I thought she was incredible and I wanted her, I lightly kissed her forehead, down her nose to her lips. Then I reached around to grab the zipper again.

"May I?"

Sucking in her lips, she closed her eyes and nodded.

I studied her face as I undid the zipper, letting her dress fall off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, as the dress hadn't required one, and I heard myself audibly gasp.

"Open your eyes, baby," I whispered.

I watched her eyelids flutter as she struggled to do what I asked. Slowly they opened, her dark eyes darting across the room, anywhere but on me.

"Look at me," I demanded, my hands still resting on her lower back.

Finally meeting my eyes, she let out a breath. I smiled and pulled her closer.

"You're so beautiful, Victoria," I said truthfully.

Grabbing the bottom half of the dress at her hips, I pulled it down, letting it fall to the floor. Immediately, Victoria folded her arms across her waist, but I took hold of them.

"Don't," I shook my head.

"I'm fat," she complained, looking at the floor again.

This time as she trembled, I thought she might be crying. My heart ached to see her like this, so insecure and ashamed of her body. She was gorgeous, and I was determined to make her feel that way.

"Victoria," I muttered, lifting her chin again, "I want you. I want to make love to you. I want to make you feel good. Alright?"

Something I said must have lit a fire inside her, because she grinned and nodded, then crashed her lips into mine. I growled as she ran her hands down my chest, hastily unbuttoning my shirt. I shrugged out of it, tossing it behind me before helping her step out of her dress and shoes. Her arms around my neck, I guided her backwards to the bed, laying her down gently.

Still determined to caress every bit of her skin, I nipped at her neck, making my way down slowly to her chest. I heard her breath catch as I took her nipple into my mouth, licking and sucking sensually. I felt her fingers tangle in my hair as I moved to her other breast, giving it the same treatment.

"Oh, God," she barely whispered.

I lifted my head to look at her as my hands slid down her waist to the lace trim of her panties.

"You okay?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Can't believe this is real," she confessed.

I grinned and licked my lips, shifting back up to meet her eyes. "Tell me how you like to be touched."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"What feels good to you?" I inquired.

She stared at me blankly, and it was apparent no one had ever asked her that before. Situating my body next to hers, I brought two fingers to my mouth to wet them. Victoria kept her eyes on me as I lowered my hand to her panties, sliding it inside. My wet fingers met her clit and she arched her back with a moan.

"Does that feel good?" I asked as I rotated.

Unable to get the words out through her rapid breathing, she merely nodded. She swallowed hard to catch her breath before letting out a sexy little cry.

Slipping my fingers down to her entrance, I slid them inside. Victoria lifted her hips to meet my hand as I pumped in and out. Resting my thumb on her swollen bud, I began to rotate slightly.

"Ha-Har-oh-God," she cried.

"Yes," I murmured in her ear. "Let go for me, baby,"

I kissed her jaw, moving slowly to her lips. Her breathing was jagged as she took my tongue into her mouth, short moans escaping. As she came, she held onto me, her fingers digging into my back. I chuckled as she released her hold on me, her body still shaking.

"That was good, yeah?" I asked, sliding my hand out of her panties.

She nodded vigorously, bringing her hands up to cup my face before kissing me deeply.

"Victoria," I said, after her breathing was returned to normal.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to have more inside you than just my fingers."

I watched her beautiful lips break into a smile as her eyes sparkled.

"Would you like that?" I asked.

She bit her lip. God, it drove me crazy when she did that. "Yes."

Before I could respond, she reached for the waistband of my jeans and jerked them open. I couldn't help but smile at her newfound bold confidence. It turned me on to say the least.

"Just a minute, baby," I smirked, standing up from the bed.

She kept her eyes on me while I removed my jeans, then grabbed the sides of her panties and pulled them down. Then I slid a condom on my waiting erection before crawling on top of her.

She opened her legs wide for me as I aimed at her center. She blinked slowly when I entered her, sucking in a breath. Then she spread her hands over my shoulders and down to my chest.

"You feel amazing," I told her as my hips rocked back and forth. "So good."

She let her head fall back as I kissed her neck. My left hand rested next to her shoulder as my right held a firm grip on her hip. I felt the burn building up in my stomach as I thrust harder and deeper.

The sounds she made were so sexy, I had a hard time keeping a steady rhythm. One more little kitten-like cry and I might come too soon.

"Ohhhh, Harrrrryyy," she moaned, nearly sending me over the edge.

"Shit, baby, you're so fucking sexy."

I wrapped my arm around the back of her waist then, pulling her as close to me as possible. My thrusts became sloppy and uneven, but I couldn't help it. I was so close.

Victoria cried out then, coming even harder than she had with my fingers. That was it for me. I cursed as I came, two more large thrusts before collapsing and out of breath.

"Victoria," I said, pulling her body to mine.

She looked at me with a myriad of questions written on her face. But her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and she looked even more lovely than before.

"You're so beautiful," I told her before kissing her wonderful lips. "So gorgeous." Another kiss. "So sexy." And another. "So incredible."

I continued with the compliments and kisses until she started to giggle.

"Okay, I get it," she teased. "I'm the best."

"You are," I sighed, giving her one last kiss. "Yes, you are."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[misseviehyde]

CORROSION

Alanah was home alone and looking forward to watching her favourite TV shows without any distractions. Her boyfriend, who usually criticised her TV choices, was currently away on a work trip and so she'd fired up the pop-corn maker, snuggled into one of her favourite sweaters and stretched out on the sofa. She could watch whatever she wanted tonight and no-one was going to stop her.

Alanah definitely deserved a little bit of TLC. Work was a killer at the moment. She worked for a charity that supported homeless people and some of the things she'd had to see recently were pretty harrowing. Her boyfriend always said she should get a better job that paid more, but Alanah liked to contribute to society and help others more than selfishly earn lots for herself.

As it went, Alanah was pretty humble and selfless most of the time so the job suited her. Unlike her boyfriend Max, she didn't like to be the centre of attention. She looked reasonably attractive, dressed nicely and lived a good life - but she was hardly going to make an impact on the world.

Such weighty thoughts were hardly on her mind as she picked up the remote and prepared to turn on the TV. A little bit of harmless distraction and fantasy would suit her perfectly tonight.

She pushed the buttons.

Nothing happened. The remote was dead.

Cursing, Alanah dragged herself to her feet and went into the kitchen to the drawer where they kept all the batteries. Rummaging inside she cursed again. There didn't seem to be any in the drawer.

No... wait. There in the corner of the drawer. Two corroded, rusted batteries with a pink shell casing were lurking at the back. As she touched them, the hairs on the back of Alanah's hands rose up and she felt a strange magnetic jolt pulse through her body, making her nipples harden in pleasure. She cradled the strange batteries in her hands feeling a compulsion to use them that overode her every sense.

Where had these strange batteries even come from? Why had they bothered to keep hold of two such obvious duds? It didn't make any sense.

The batteries were clearly of no use, but the sudden urge to try them was overwhelming. It was like the batteries WANTED to be used. Pulling out the old ones from the remote, she slowly slotted the corroded, pink batteries into the remote and clicked them into place.

Pink lightning engulfed the plastic remote and Alanah gasped in amazement. Luscious pink light crawled and sparked over the cheap plastic and it seemed to blur and transform before her eyes. She watched in amazement as the remote changed shape and colour, transformed by the batteries.

In moments a shiny silver chrome remote lay before her, with an entirely new set of buttons. How... how was this possible? Was this a trick?

Reaching out, she picked up the strange new remote and felt the same erotic jolt and throb of pleasure course through her body as when she had just held the batteries. She peered at the buttons in amazement.

They were now labelled with strange titles such as 'Age Control', 'Time-Freeze' and 'Rewind'.

Walking over to the mirror, Alanah shook her head gently. "I must be having a hallucination or something. This... this can't be real."

Pushing the age control button, she aimed the remote at a banana hanging from a hook on the cupboard next to her. Instantly it began to ripen and mature... then turn to black sludge and rot away. Pushing the button down in reverse, she watched as the processs reversed and then went further - the banana turning green and beginning to shrink back to a seed.

The remote now appeared to have powers over time. This was like something out of a science fiction program!

With this remote, she seemed able to control time. Seeing her 31 year old face reflected in the mirror, she suddenly paused and then hesitantly pointed the remote towards herself. What if...?

"Ohhhh fuck," groaned Alanah as she hit the de-aging button and she felt the power of the remote blast into her. Her skin tightened, her slightly saggy breasts firmed up, her buttocks tightened. Youth and vitality flowed into her and it felt so good. As she stopped pushing the button, the effect finally ended and an eighteen year old version of herself looked back in delight.

"This is incredible," she breathed. "I'm young again!"

Turning the remote over, Alanah popped open the battery panel and pulled out the corroded batteries. There was a flash of pink light and now once again she held the normal plastic TV remote in her hands.

She deserved to be young again. This was a gift that she was never going to reverse. Why shouldn't she have some extra life and vitality and be young and free again?

The remote was back to normal, but she wasn't. She was still young and full of vitality. The de-aging effect was obviously permanent until she used the remote again.

For a moment, she pondered putting the batteries back in and changing back immediately.

As she did so, she barely noticed that crackle of pink energy that briefly flared over her own body as she thought of reversing the effect and immediately decided not to.

The uncharacteristic feeling of selfishness felt good. She groaned and her nipples got even harder than they had earlier. She felt... good. Being selfish felt great!

"Hmmmm, these batteries are incredible. They changed the remote into an upgraded version of itself. I wonder what happens if I put them into other objects?"

Enjoying the feeling of her tight young body, Alanah whistled happily as she picked up one of Max's Xbox controllers. Sliding the batteries inside - she gasped as the same pink lightning engulfed that too and in moments the controller had changed.

It still had the same basic shape, but it was no longer for controlling video games. As she switched it on, Alanah saw the TV flicker into life. She was now looking at a birds eye view of her neighbourhood. Fascinated, she pushed the control sticks and flew over to Max's hotel where he was staying for his work conference.

Inside his room, Max was lying on the bed watching TV. Alanah giggled as she saw that she could select him like he was a character in a game. Menu's and options appeared and she saw that she could now adjust and change Max's mental attributes as well as pilot him remotely.

Pushing start, she grinned as she now realised she was in control of her arrogant boyfriend's mind.

A whisper in the back of her head seemed to tell her that she should get her revenge on her boyfriend for the way he always treated her. She hesitated. That seemed wrong.

On the bed Max groaned as the changes took place and his body posture changed. He now looked anxious and worried, no longer the confident business man but a scared little loser. Alanah liked seeing him squirm - this was fun... and horny.

Pink lightning crackled un-noticed over Alanah's body and she relaxed. No... it would be fun to manipulate and control her dumb boyfriend for a change.

An uncharacteristically bitchy grin spread over her lips as she began to decrease Max's confidence and intelligence. She could always put them back later, but let's how he liked being a dumb, subservient little simp.

Wait...

Alanah's panties were wet as she pushed the control up to make Max totally devoted and enslaved to her will. His obsession to please her and serve her would now be unstoppable.

When Max came back from his trip, he would be her subservient little toy. Her grin grew wider. What else could she make him do? Or who else could she transform?

Oh fuck, why did this feel so good?

What the fuck was she doing?

"Noooo what did I just do?" she sobbed, disgusted at herself. "Those batteries... they're... they're doing something to me. Something bad. I... I felt so fucking turned on when I began to dominate Max's mind. This isn't me, I'm not a bad person."

Her grin fading, Alanah felt a rising panic. She loved Max, he was her boyfriend and she'd just violated his mind and fucked up his personality. Looking down she saw a flash of pink electricity run across her hands and into her body and she suddenly realised she was being affected.

With a sudden sobbing gasp she turned over the controller and ripped out the batteries. Pink lightining flashed as she threw them across the room and they hit the wall.

Alanah took a deep breath to steady herself. "I have to destroy those batteries - but... but I need to reverse these changes first. Ohhh shit, why am I so horny?"

Looking down Alanah could see her pussy was soaking. She had been so turned on manipulating Max and her new eighteen year old body felt so good, she had never felt this turned on. Even now - disgusted by her actions - she also couldn't stop thinking how hot it had felt to control Max and have such Godlike power. Part of her wanted more.

Her nipples were errect and her body ached with desire. She had never felt so fucking turned on. Pink lightning crackled over her skin. She needed... mmmmmh... she needed release. No... she needed to deal with these evil batteries.

Crawling over to the batteries she carefully picked them up in her sweater, trying not to touch them. She had meant to go over to the Xbox controller with them, but instead she found her feet carrying herself up to her bedroom.

Alanah could barely think straight. The urgent heat in her loins needed to be dealt with. She could turn Max and herself back later. First - she needed to let off some steam. Urgently.

Ripping down her panties, she urgently slid her fingers into her wetness and began to hump herself like a nympho. It felt good... but not good enough. For some reason she needed more.

Opening her drawer, she pulled out her bullet vibrator and pushed the button. This would do it.

Nothing happened.

"Nooooo I need... I need it," groaned Alanah as she shook with lust. She had never needed anything so badly. Her fingers pumped in and out of her pussy, but the release she needed was lacking.

Her horny mind craved the vibrator. She needed to feel it pulsing against her clit. She NEEDED it.

Wrenching open the battery case she tossed the duds aside. Strange, she'd only changed them recently. She needed power and rapidly her eyes fell on the pink corroded batteries nestled in her sweater.

Yesssssss.

She knew this was a terrible idea, but it seemed so hot. The batteries had already made her do bad things, putting them in her vibrator was surely asking for trouble. Mmmmh but it was also such a deliciously naughty idea. She wanted to be good, but now she also wanted to be bad. The evil side of her was becoming stronger and she wanted to know how it felt to get even worse. She giggled as she wondered what the batteries would do to her tiny vibrator.

Picking them up, Alanah moaned as she pushed them in and let the pink lightning crackle over both her and the vibrator. Giving into the batteries, to the corrosion... it felt GOOD.

"Yessssssss," she hissed as her tiny vibrator began to swell and grow. In moments it had become a sleek chrome wand, with a new row of buttons on.

Slut mode. Bitch mode. Goddess mode.

Intrigued and desperate for release, Alanah pushed slut mode and the vibrator buzzed into life. Large and powerful, it hummed with obscene power as she brought it down between her legs and screamed in ecstasy.

"Yessssss!" she hissed as pink lightning crackled around her body and she humped the vibrator with a wild grin on her face. She could feel the corrosive power of the batteries throbbing into her body, changing her and corrupting her.

"YESSSS I LOVE IT!"

She screamed, quivering and shaking as pleasure stronger than anything she'd ever felt before pulsed through her.

Alanah's small breasts began to swell and grow and she moaned as she pushed the vibrator hard against her pussy. "Yessss make them BIGGER," she cried. She had always been jealous of girls with big breasts, now she would be the one to make others jealous.

Lightning crackled over her body, each surge bringing her closer to orgasm. Each throb and buzz of pink power was corrupting her, improving her, making her better.

"Yessss give it to meeeeeee!"

Her face became sluttier and prettier, her once innocent features now those of a porn star as her hair grew even blonder and her skin became softer. Her ass was now bigger and rounder, her waist slimmer but her hips wider. She had the body of a fuckdoll now and she liked it.

Being an 18 year old blonde slut felt good.

Alanah grabbed one of her now impressively large breasts and squeezed it in pleasure as she rode her vibrator. She felt so good, but she needed more.

She didn't want to be a slut. She wanted to be a bitch.

The vibrator had given her the perfect body but her mind didn't quite match. She was still a goody goody in part. She needed to go deeper.

Her thumb slid up the vibrator to the next setting.

"Noooo, I can't. If I push it... I'll become evil. This fucking thing will destroy my mind and turn me into a total bitch. Ohhh shit why does that sound so hot?"

If she could just cum, she could fight this terrible temptation, but she couldn't. The only way she could cum was if she became a bitch.

She thought about Max... how much she loved him, even if he often was an asshole. She thought about her job, about the homeless people who relied on her. She tried to fight it.

Mmmmmh but why fight it?

A slutty smiled spread over Alanah's face. Wouldn't it feel good to become a selfish, wicked bitch who never had to care about anyone but herself? It's not like she would ever regret this decision once she transformed.

This was her chance to have everything.

"Yesssss, make me into a fucking bitch," she groaned pushing the button for Bitch Mode.

The vibrator intensfied and throbbed even harder against her pussy and Alanah's eyes rolled up into her head as the orgasmic pleasure took her to a new plateau.

The pink lightning intensified around her body and she moaned and gurgled as it crackled into her brain.

She was being rewired... corroded and corrupted. All her decency and kindness was being rewired to cruel-ambiton, selfishness and pleasure.

"YESSSSSSSSS. Ughhhh make me mean, make me fucking evil! Turn me into a bitch!"

Alanah shook and moans came out of her mouth as her head rolled in pleasure. It felt so good to have her entire personality rewired.

She no longer felt any guilt about controlling Max and making him a simp. She loved dominating others and manipulating men. Lying, cheating, seducing, corrupting... these were the things that brought her pleasure. Along with expensive clothes, fine wines and hard nasty sex of course.

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile... a permanent resting bitch face. Cold blue eyes flickered with pleasure as the new bitch luxuriated in her superior personality and looked back at her old life with contempt.

Alanah... such a weak pathetic girl. Her lips curved into a malicious grin as she thought of all those pathetic homeless people who would no longer have any help now that stupid goody goody Alanah was no more. She was a new bitch now - she was Lana.

Lana stretched her body, pushing the vibrator harder against her pussy and sighing in contentment. She was all that mattered. Her tight perfect pussy couldn't take much more. Only one thing remained to do.

Lana pushed the button for Goddess Mode.

"Ohhhh fuck yesss, give it to me," she hissed. "Make me fucking cum and destroy every last ounce of goodness in this body. Finish my transformation into Goddess Lana.

The vibrator throbbed with unholy power and Lana arched her perfect body into the air. She screamed in lust, her angelic, yet evil features a mask of ecstasy as her pussy began to cum.

She squirted hard, juices blasting out as she screamed like a banshee. "OHHHH MY FUCKING GAWDDDD. YESSSSSSS!"

The batteries throbbed with power as they pumped energy into Lana... bolstering her narcissim, increasing her libido and her desire to dominate. She was now the ultimate bitch and the most powerful Goddess.

With a bang the vibrator overloaded and the evil batteries melted in a flare of pink energy. Lana screamed as the last of the unholy energy surged into her body and her corruption was completed.

She orgasmed one last time, another spray erupting from her pussy as she collapsed onto the bed and panted and moaned in satisfaction.

"Mmmmmhhhhhh oh yessssss," she groaned as she removed the ruined vibrator from between her legs and giggled at the drenched bed underneath her.

Standing up, she walked to her mirror and admired her new body. "Mmmmh I truly AM a Goddess now."

But what about her batteries? Her wonderful batteries were ruined.

Walking to the bed, Lana picked up one of the drained batteries that had orginally been in the vibrator. As she held it between her fingers, pink sparks arched between them and she watched with interest as the battery corroded and turned a bright vibrant pink.

"Looks like I have the power now," purred Lana as she charged the other battery and laughed evily.

"I can now corrupt as many devices as I like. Mind control, time control... who knows what else I will be able to do when I try other devices? I truly AM a fucking Goddeas now. This world will be my plaything and I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

Her soul, body and mind corroded - the new Uber-Bitch walked off with a clop of high heels to go find the Xbox controller.

She had even more changes to make to Max... and then the rest of the town would follow.

The whole world was her toy now. It was easy, when you had the power...

THE END

[sauron-kraut]

Summary: Ar-Pharazôn comes to visit at night and finds Mairon in a vulnerable position.

Woke up in the mood for some more Mairon/Ar-Pharazôn, and in this one Mairon is once again not having a great time. After posting some pieces in which he has more agency I needed him miserable again, apparently.

Pairing: Mairon x Ar-Pharazôn

Words: 733

Warnings: non-consensual voyeurism, non-consensual touching

As always: If you like this little piece, comments on AO3 are appreciated! 🖤

Not beta read!

Find it here under the cut.

on granting things

On his bare feet, Ar-Pharazôn traverses the dark corridor. His steps are taking him to Zigûr’s quarters. Giddy anticipation holds his body in a tight embrace.  When he comes closer to his advisor’s chambers, Ar-Pharazôn finds the door to his private quarters ajar; he can see it from a distance; a narrow ray of flickering light shyly licking at the cold black tiles. Ar-Pharazôn slows his steps, approaches cautiously, quietly. A small strangled sound from Zigûr’s room. Ar-Pharazôn’s eyes widen and curiosity takes hold of him. Is the Maia in pain?

Ar-Pharazôn reaches the door. It has opened just wide enough for him to peek inside. Occasional carelessness. He allows Zigûr no locks. When he leans against the wall and casts up his eyes, Ar-Pharazôn has to hold back a gasp. On the soft bed the Maia lies, the bed that Ar-Pharazôn has granted him, a soft bed for soft skin and soft hair, and arches his back. A goblet with red wine sits on his nightstand. Zigûr lies sprawled across the sheets and pillows, his luscious red locks in slight disarray framing him like a broken halo. A pink hue has formed on his cheeks, his eyes are closed, his elegant brows knit and lips parted, just a bit, revealing slightly too sharp canines. The black lounging robe the Maia is wearing, adorned with colourful embroidery, has fallen half-open, exposing his pale-golden chest. One of his hands clutches a green blanket, the other moves in a steady rhythm between his legs. It makes his golden bracelets tinkle.

Hopeless hunger surges through Ar-Pharazôn. Jealousy.

A sigh tumbles from Zigûr’s lips like a promise. Ar-Pharazôn watches his chest rise and fall, transfixed with one nipple. Why does he breathe? Why does his red heart beat? He’s a creature; Ar-Pharazôn reminds himself of it, a beast cloaked in divinity, and yet, the Maia lies there, and does what all men do. Ar-Pharazôn cups his own hardness through his breeches. Zigûr has lifted an elegant hand to his mouth, lets some spit dribble onto his palm, before he resumes the now more frantic motions between his thighs. No, this is not right, his pleasure is Ar-Pharazôn’s to offer him. 

Ar-Pharazôn opens the door and steps inside.

The Maia on the bed jerks violently at the sudden noise, golden eyes fly open and betray confusion. He scrambles back against the headboard, fumbles with his robe.  Ar-Pharazôn sits beside him and smiles. “There is no need to cover yourself. I know what you look like,” he says. Zigûr sits unmoved, still only breathing heavily, leaning against the headboard and a pile of pillows, half upright, half-lying on his side, a certain feline grace in his posture even now. Ar-Pharazôn shifts closer and grasps both of the Maia’s wrists. To soothe him. He smells of arousal and saliva. A hint of sandalwood. Ar-Pharazôn studies his noble features. Zigûr’s lower lip is trembling. Beneath thick lashes, his eyes with the slit pupils and their fiery iris glisten with faint wetness. They swim with wrath. Fascinating. A wounded deer, a lion cornered.

Ar-Pharazôn lets go of his wrists, cups his cheek, rubs it, squeezes it, traces that lip, so soft beneath his thumb. Zigûr swallows, then speaks: “What brought you here at this late hour, king?” Wine on his breath. “Nothing but you,” Ar-Pharazôn says, then adds “You are so beautiful, Mairon, do you know?” He continues to stroke his cheek. A faint smile forms on Zigûr’s lips. “I am aware.” He takes Ar-Pharazôn’s hand in his, removes it from his cheek and gently places it in his lap, his own still clasped over his fingers. 

Ar-Pharazôn moves to lean in, moves behind Zigûr, thigh to thigh, hand firmly on his upper arm, then gliding down his side.  “Tell me, who do you think of when you pleasure yourself? What do you imagine when you do it?” Ar-Pharazôn whispers. He receives no answer. “Let me help you find your release. You were close, I can tell,” Ar-Pharazôn murmurs in his ear, and the heat spreading in his lower body and the Maia’s beauty, that damned beauty that is all angel and all whore, makes it impossible not to press himself up against him. 

The wretched thing shakes his golden head, a small, quiet gesture in Ar-Pharazôn’s arms. Helpless rage wells up in him.

Ar-Pharazôn wrenches the hem of Zigûr’s robe aside.

[justporo]

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies

Hi, uhm - I don't really now how to start. I am currently writing a long fic in which Astarion and Tav get invited to a ball. It's been going for a while and I thought (very selfishly and self-indulgently) how about I promote it a little since so many new people have joined. It's a still ongoing story. I'd say it's a very chaotic mix of sweet, fluffy, spicy even sometimes and some darker tones in between. I really pour my heart and soul into this project and try to challenge myself! But maybe it's better to just give you some sneak peeks (from like every other chapter)? I'd be super happy if you were interested to check it out! Thanks to @megschaef98 for suggesting some of your fave parts, ily!

To the chapterlist!

You looked at the invitation in his slender hands. Two golden lines framed the card and under a decorative print stood in elegant cursive writing: “His Lordship Lord De Grodt requests the pleasure of the Company of Lord Astarion Ancunín & Tav to a Ball at Herrenfordt Castle on October 5th, 1493 DR after dusk.” “They really only just wrote ‘Tav’? Should I be insulted?” “You don’t have a last name?”, Astarion asked while looking up from the card. “No, Astarion, I grew up on the streets, because my parents abandoned me – I’m only Tav, always have been”, you answered, only a tad of bitterness in your voice. “Well, my love, you could always just take mine”, the vampire replied smugly and grinned at you. “Weird way to propose”, you muttered under your breath but then immediately said before Astarion could react: “So what do you make of this?”

(Prologue)

So, you finally strode over and took in the garment: It was a striking deep blue that became lighter and a wonderful shade of purple up to lavender further down the skirt – impressively similar to the colours the sky turned when the sun set. It had a high collar that didn’t fully close around the neck in the front, so it allowed for a deep neckline that almost looked like a four-pointed star and long flowy sleeves that from the elbows down became cascading trains of fabric. The bodice was decorated with embroidered bigger four-point stars and smaller sparkles in silver and a few shiny stones. From the slender belt around the waistline down it became a luscious silken skirt that was carefully draped with few more star decorations that became fewer the more the colours lightened. It was quite frankly stunning. Regal and elegant, but not overly flamboyant which would have been something you would have never felt comfortable to wear. And the most important thing: no corset. You wouldn’t have believed it, but you were actually excited to put this garment on.

(Chapter 2)

All around people were standing as couples or smaller groups: chatting, slandering, laughing, drinking the champagne or eating the food being offered by the many servants passing through the crowd with huge silver trays. Some seemed to be well in their cups already, staggering or sloshing their drinks while talking and gesticulating animatedly. Some couples already seemed very handsy as well – hands wandering deeper from backs to more insolent regions, décolletages emphasised with a carefully placed hand or arched back, spines straightened and shoulders rolled back to look taller and more intimidating. Gold, diamonds and pearls seemed to be everywhere you looked. Everything and everyone was sparkling in their finery and giving off the aura of careless excess and frivolous debauchery. Jewels shone from daunting cleavages, signet rings clanked on chalices, flamboyant headpieces swung around during coquettish laughter, deep red lips left stains on crystal glasses and silk shone like liquid in the dim lighting. An impressive display of languid ignorance and luxurious degeneracy. And it was more than impressive even – it was intimidating.

(Chapter 4)

“So sweet, my dear darling, almost as sweet as you”, he whispered hauntingly while you felt drips from the delicious fruit run over your fingers and hand and waves of arousal ran through your body. Then he leaned in again, taking the rest of the strawberry out of your hand, his soft lips closing around your fingers, sucking for a short moment and his tongue flicking over your fingers. Astarion’s sparkling ruby eyes were still on you, patiently observing your reaction, one eyebrow twitching playfully. Your lips parted slightly and your eyes widened as the vampire then lifted your hand up farther and just licked the remaining strawberry juice off the palm of your hand, his fingers steadily around your wrist.

(Chapter 6)

The demon gave a low and rumbly chuckle. “I see”, he had said and with a snap his admirers had returned to roam his body with their hands. “But if you ever change your mind…” He had left the sentence unfinished, his gaze again boring into you until you felt almost stripped naked in front of him and Astarion had protectively placed his hand on your shoulder and quickly led you out of the room. So now you stood in the back of another dimly lit room and listened to this poet theatrically presenting some of his poems: “The moaning and the groaning, The sighing and the sobbing, Are quieted now, With that horrible throbbing.” He enunciated every word carefully, his tone and conduct underlining the meaning of his words – it was quite a thing to watch and listen to. People sat and stood around the artist in a half circle, the performance area marked by some small cold, bright mage lights that were the only light source in this room. The sharp illumination from below then made the performance of the poet even more ghostly. Astarion and you were both leaning against the wall in the back, observing the show in companiable silence.

(Chapter 7)

CHAPTERLIST | READ ON AO3 | MASTERLIST

[ryuichirou]

How do you draw Idia’s hair so good?? I struggle with the basic shapes so much!

Sorry for the late reply! Your ask got us excited because Idia’s hair is such a pain to draw, but also such a fun detail, and I’m very happy that you like the way I draw it <3

Katsu suggested to me to record a speedpaint, and uhh, here it is. Please, don’t mind the wonky anatomy and me horsing around with zooming in and out randomly. As you can see, I struggle with Idia’s hair myself and constantly redraw it until I’m satisfied or at least tired enough to say “eh, that’ll do”. In case you’re wondering, it took me ~25-30 minutes to do the hair, and the original video was 59 min long lol I always spend a lot of time moving, reshaping and redrawing details when I draw Idia…

I’ll also list some tips and thoughts about it based on the way I draw it…

The shape of Idia’s hair is not at all consistent. Even in Toboso’s art it looks slightly different sometimes, which makes sense, because Idia has magical fire hair and technically you could do whatever you want with it.

But some rules tend to apply each time. For example, even though Idia’s hair is long and seems naturally “heavy” because of it, the individual strands tend to be turned upwards, like fire would. Not every single one, but the shorter ones and the ones closer to Idia’s head tend to do so. 

It’s wavy, but not too wavy. If the hair starts looking too “soft”, add sharp edges, random strands sticking out, rough shapes, etc.

Oh, and it’s important to remember that it floats. This means, it doesn’t just go straight down, it does this weird “S” shape. It’s also hella long, I always forget just how long Idia’s hair is. If the magic fire logic didn’t apply to it, it would reach the ground easily. The volume of his hair is much bigger than I tend to remember too: it's quite thick and luscious lol So please give him lots of hair!

Tiny little flames + “holes” in the main ehh body of hair (wow there must be a way to phrase it better) make everything look good and more believable. Have fun with it. You might’ve noticed, I draw and redraw and move them around a lot in my speedpaint.

Obviously, I am no expert, and every artist I know draws Idia’s hair a little bit differently. The speedpaint doesn’t show it, but I always have some of Toboso’s artworks of Idia open when I draw him, just to make sure his design is not too off. I would definitely recommend looking at refs while drawing Idia (or anyone), and maybe even trying to redraw the hair from Toboso’s artworks once or twice as a study, it’ll probably make it easier to understand how Idia’s hair works.

You haven’t asked about the colouring, but I love colouring Idia’s hair, so I’ll talk about it a little. Colouring Idia’s hair is simultaneously the most fun and the most tedious part of drawing him lol 15 minutes of my hour long video is just me filling Idia’s hair with the base blue colour with a lasso (I refuse to use a bucket tool…)

But once you’re done with the base, this is where the fun begins. Because at this stage you can be pretty rough, just add in darker and deeper blues near the middle/core(?) of the hair mass. It doesn’t have to be very even or pretty, add some smaller dark spots; we personally really love it when Idia has this round little blob on his bangs. In the video you can see that I added it later on because I forgot about it lol

After the dark part is done, erase the ends of it a little bit with a soft brush. Not too much, we should still be able to see the shapes.

Then, on a separate layer set on overlay mode, with the same soft brush add some additional brighter spots, to make the hair look glowy. I used the same light blue as the base colour, and the overlay gives it a pretty hue.

And finally, add some white highlights at the ends of the strands. This is the stage when everything stops looking wrong and weird and starts looking like Idia, at least to me.

Phew, I think this is everything I wanted to say… I hope it was at least somewhat helpful.

Sorry for the long post, I just love talking about the drawing process. And about Idia too!

Once again, thank you for your kind words; I’m very happy that you like my art.

Have a good day!

[tired0artist]

| ascended astarion x tav |

okay so, @themoonatmingitaw animatic rules my brain. and so here's a little wip, that i did in these past few days. it's not finished and i have no idea if this will become a fic, but i'd love to hear your thoughts!

also english is not my first language! and so there might be some mistakes, as it's also a raw version.

Tav = Tavarra (gave her a name, cause I've seen people do that)

WARNINGS: dark astarion, slavery, abuse

>>>>><<<<<

Tavarra had a porcelain doll once. It sat on a bookshelf in her room, with shiny cheeks and pretty dress in a perfect condition, as young Tavarra did her best to dust her everyday. Throughout the years, the doll remained on that bookshelf and as Tavarra grew, she stopped dusting her as often.

She still loved her dear porcelain doll, it was hers was it not?

So as the years passed, the dust lingered and the doll was no longer as beautiful as it once was. Then, as Tavarra left her home, the doll’s fate became nothing but a stray thought, as it sat on the shelf, all alone. Forgotten with only dust and other pretty things from the shelf to keep her company…

Tavarra once envied the doll, it was so pretty. It didn’t have to study or do any chores… It was a simple task. 

To simply exist and be pretty… 

Tavarra no longer envied her precious doll. 

Not as she sat in a luscious room, surrounded by pretty things, all alone and forever waiting for someone to come and look. To come and dust her off…

She became Astarion’s precious pretty little porcelain doll. Forever chained, not to a shelf, but to a luxurious room. Dressed in the most beautiful of dresses, adorned with the wealthiest of jewellery and with her long hair brushed out. 

It didn’t used to be like this.

In the beginning, Astarion and her walked the same path. Tavarra might’ve been not but a spawn, but oh, she was much more than that. Astarion’s power extended to her, for a while at least…, he shared with her the beauty of immortality and the joys of being a daywalker. 

They danced during the day and fed at night, forever together.

Oh… but how quickly that forever came to an end…

Only roughly over a hundred years, it lasted. Then one by one, changes came. 

It started small, with words of adoration for Tavarra’s light blonde locks. 

“Truly magnificent, my darling.” he whispered that night, as his fingers brushed through her grown out curls. 

Tavarra had been meaning to cut it for some time now.

“Oh you musn’t, my sweet.” he purred, his lips dragging up her tan arm and finally settling against her jaw “I like it long… different from how you wore it before. It makes me appreciate the colour far more, like this.” 

She didn’t cut her hair. Not ever since then, not even when it started to drag behind her, joining the train of her dresses.

Then bit by bit, Astarion took from her. Not only what he gave, but what she herself had.

Her longbow and sword.

Now they hung above his throne, like a prize.

Her throne.

Back when she was allowed to walk amongst the halls freely, she sat beside him. Then a step down. After that it was all the way down the small steps to his throne. And finally she was perched upon his lap, as his hands travelled up and down her body.

Her lute.

It was put away in a crystal display in Astarion’s art gallery. 

Her armour.

Much like the lute, it met the same fate along with Astarion’s old armour. 

Her days in the sun.

Astarion worried for Tavarra’s safety… he wanted her off the streets, and so why should she need to be allowed out in the sun?

Her freedom…

“No!” she screamed, clawing at his shoulders as tears ran down her cheeks.

“No?” he chuckled, cupping her face in his palms “My love. This isn’t a discussion, I only want you with me. Always. Forever—”

“Astarion—”

His face twisted in anger, as his hands moved down, holding her neck “You wanted to be mine. And so you are mine. So why should you want to leave? Hm?” he shook her slightly, his grip tightening “Do you want to leave me?! Do you not love me, my darling?!”

Tavarra sobbed, unable to break the hold he had on her. Still, her nails clawed at his hands as she whispered.

“You’re hurting— me.”

Clarity that rarely came these days washed over him, as his hands retreated, coming to gently embrace her instead “Darling… oh, I am so very sorry.”

She cried against him, not having much of a choice, as the chains he put on her wrists and neck stole her strength.

“I only want to keep you safe. Safe and sound, like you deserve, my sweet Tavarrra.” he whispered, petting her hair slowly “All of this is for you… for us.”

Tavarra just cried, taking whatever moment of comfort that she could from him. 

Stealing from him, just as he stole from her.

>>>>><<<<<

tell me what you think and please go watch the animatic that inspired this! it's so freaking good!

although i don't think that i'd quite follow the ending... no matter how perfect and beautiful it is. i'm too weak for that :(((((

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Based on this incredible post that inspired the worms. Sorry it's not exactly right @flowercrowngods I just finished this and went to find the post only to realise it went in a different direction, I'm so sorry darling!

I'm sorry in advance if this is rubbish, this is my first time writing clarkson I just hope I did our beloved Uncle Wayne proud 💖

It all started with Dustin Henderson. Didn't everything?

The kid stopped by, trying to bribe Eddie into doing something with the creatures in the campaign or something. Poor boy still hadn't worked out that the only way to bribe Eddie to do anything was through Robin; because since the day Steve Harrington, of all people, had stepped through his front door, the three of them had been as thick as thieves. Wayne didn't question it, just accepted it as one of the eccentricities of the universe, especially when he saw just how happy the ex jock made his boy.

So although Dustin was way off in trying to find the way to Eddie's heart; he'd easily found Wayne's, he'd do anything for good coffee and homemade baked goods.

Especially flavourful, rich coffee and mouthwatering baked goods. Bribery through fresh ground coffee beans and handmade delicacies would always win him over, even if it was a hit and a miss for the little genius. More for me, he'd thought gleefully to himself as he'd pilfered the treats, sneaking out the front door to sit in his rocking chair on the porch, enjoying watching the world go by and listening to his kids bicker with a satisfied smile plastered on his face.

Wayne was a man of simple pleasures. He'd always been happy with his store bought instant and the kind of pastries that pop out of a can, but the delicacies Dustin had brought by just wouldn't leave his mind. He was having cravings, zoning out at work just thinking about them. And then one morning as he was driving home from a long shift, Someone Like You blasting from the speakers, the slow beat easing the tension in his shoulders. The traffic lights switched from green to red as he rolled through town, not that he minded, the only thing waiting for him these days was his bed but as he slowed to a stop, tapping along to the beat on the sill of the rolled down window, he spotted the new bakery the kid had bought them from.

The lights flipped back, and suddenly he found he was pulling into an open parking spot outside Clarke's. He's pretty sure the building had been an ice cream parlour before the quake, but most of the buildings in town had been refurbished and reopened in the last few years; sometimes with the same business, sometimes with something new. The sign above the door was painted in red and white stripes, with Clarke's Bakery written in pretty maroon calligraphy. The notice in the window was flipped to Open, it surprised him, given how early it still was, most of the town was still in bed and there wasn't a soul to be seen when the little bell above the door jingled as he entered, he would've been worried that the building had been left open by accident if it wasn't for the luscious smell permeating the air and the "Be right with you," that someone called from the back room.

Waiting was fine with him, it gave him a chance to familiarise himself with the quaint, little place. The chalkboard price lists, the display cases were so shiny they were obviously brand new, and unfortunately disappointingly empty, but he supposed it wasn't surprising given how early it still was. The smell coming from the back more than made up for it though, it was making his mouth water, and he just knew whatever they were making was going to be delicious in the way that store bought anything just wasn't any more.

Behind the counter was one of those fancy coffee machines, the ones with all the buttons and the levers; Wayne had less to deal with at the plant, but the best thing of all was the array of cups sitting on top of the shiny machine. They were all different shapes, sizes, colours and characters; it reminded him of his old collection, the one he lost to the "quake" but honestly he couldn't be too sad about it, after weeks at Eddie's bedside he was just glad that was all he'd lost.

The whole place just felt really comfortable, the tables and chairs had all been picked for comfort rather than style, most of it was mismatched, but it was the type of furniture that invited you to sit, even the rug under the sofa in the back corner looked like the type you wanted to take your shoes and socks off and sink your toes into.

Homely was the word that came to mind, unlike the kids who'd called it cute, whatever that meant; how anything inanimate could be cute was beyond him. Puppies, you betcha, babies, absolutely; the man who'd just appeared behind the counter wearing a shirt and bow-tie under a flour covered apron, icing sugar splotches on his face and mischief dancing in his eyes, yep, 100%, definitely cute.

"Wayne! Hi," Scott greeted with a wide grin that slowly slipped from his face as Wayne's brain came up with nothing but static, "Scott Clarke, remember? I taught your Eddie. We were paired up together when little Will went missing," he continued, looking less and less sure of himself.

Wayne hated it. He knew all that, he knew Scott, of course he did, but it was like his brain wasn't connected to the rest of his body and all he could do was blink and breathe. It felt like it took a Herculean effort just to breathe out a dreamy "Hi."

Scott blushed and looked down at the counter, glancing up at Wayne through his lashes, a smile pulling at one side of his mouth as he drew delicate patterns on the notepad sitting beside the register that Wayne's pretty sure he recognised from attempting to help Eddie with his homework once upon a time.

"What can I getcha?" Scott asked, pen poised over the paper.

It was like the connection snapped back into place as he thought about the coffee and pastries Dustin had brought.

"Dustin," Wayne started, raising his hand to his shoulder, "curly hair, logo t-shirts," Wayne did his best to describe. Scott taught a lot of students, just because he remembered the class disrupters like Eddie didn't mean he remembered them all.

But Scott just chuckled jovially, "I know Dustin," he admitted fondly.

Wayne smiled softly, anybody who held any affection for one of his kids was good in his book, "He brought something over for Eddie last week, coffee and a-"

"An Americano and a Yum Yum," Scott finished for him with an affectionate smile, pushing himself off the counter to start filling components and pressing buttons before disappearing into the back.

Wayne sighed heavily, leaning bodily against the counter. He was glad for the breather, he didn't know what was wrong with him; an old man with butterflies and a lead tongue, cheeks flushing crimson as his mind played him a loop of his lovesick greeting. He scrubbed his hands roughly over his face, wanting the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Finding a bloke attractive wasn't new to him, he'd been in a committed relationship before Eddie had been dropped on his doorstep by his deadbeat brother, but John had asked him to choose between them and hadn't liked that Wayne didn't even need to think about it, of course he would always choose Eddie.

What was new was being so obvious about it. 

Maybe he'd spent too much time around Steve and Eddie, they were careful in public, of course they were, but at home, with their loved ones, they were never ashamed to let their love and affection for one another shine through; no matter how much the kids would moan or mime gagging, they didn't care. Most of the time, the pair only had eyes for each other anyway. Maybe he was overtired. Or maybe he was just tired of putting up barriers. 

When he'd first met Scott, it was the excuse that he was Eddie's teacher. When they'd been paired to find Will, he'd admittedly enjoyed being with Scott, the man was pretty and smarter than half the town put together but searching the town for a potentially dead kid wasn't exactly conducive for romance. But now, he found he couldn't find an excuse, especially now that he knew Scott was the one behind those heavenly pastries and rich coffee.

Scott came out the back carrying two trays, one filled with glazed doughnuts and the other with the pastries he liked, and Wayne felt his mouth salivate. The smell alone was amazing, but they looked incredible too, and he was hungry enough he felt like he could easily eat everything on both trays and still have room for whatever was still baking. The trays were slid delicately into the display case, Scott's tongue poking adorably out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Wayne couldn't stop himself from smiling, no matter how much he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, Scott looked up and caught his eye, the two men smiling gently at one another over the counter before Scott turned back to the coffee machine.

"Sorry about earlier," Wayne apologised sincerely, "I just pulled a double at the plant and all I've been able to think about for the past two hours have been your pastries," Wayne admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced up when Scott didn't reply immediately to find he still had his back turned to him, but that didn't mean Wayne couldn't see his beaming smile in all the shiny surfaces surrounding him, or the blush slowly creeping from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

Wayne finds himself wanting to witter endlessly like Eddie does when Steve makes him all shy and giggly. He wants to start talking about his day and the weather and how he can picture Scott in his rocking chair at home, maybe sharing the chair or maybe Wayne could picture building him his own, so they could sit together; eating pastries hand in hand, watching the world go by. He doesn't say anything though, just rocks on the balls of his feet ducking his head, unable to keep the smirk off his face at making a pretty boy blush.

"I guess that means you're taking this to go," Scott finally says over his shoulder, steam clouding around him and turning the icing sugar splotches sticky. Wayne could be mistaken, but he would say Scott sounds a little disappointed.

He doesn't trust himself to speak, the chances of something inappropriate, like "Marry me?", coming out of his mouth are far too high, he is a Munson after all; so he just hums affirmatively.

"I'd say it's a shame, but I have to get to work as soon as I've got the kids set up for the day," Scott admits, his whole ears are beat red, the blush spreading quickly up the back of his neck.

"Maybe we could continue this another time," Wayne says as Scott hands him a warm cardboard cup and a paper bag, their fingers brushing and sending sparks up his arms; it was supposed to be a question, but it didn't sound enough like one.

"I'd like that," Scott replied with a dazzling smile that Wayne can't help but mirror. He nods once, walking backwards towards the door, not quite wanting to break the connection and not really wanting to leave, but not wanting to overstay his welcome or make Scott late for his day either. "Bye," Scott chuckled as Wayne fumbled with the door handle letting himself out with a little paper bag filled wave, floating back to his truck on a cloud as Scott disappeared back into the back.

And that's how it goes for a while, Wayne stops in every morning on his way home from work, they chat about the kids or work or the latest article Wayne read in his copy of UFO. They chat a lot about the children's book Scott is writing, about six kids who all sound suspiciously like the ones Eddie and Steve have practically adopted. A genius with a floppy head of curls who recruits his friends into discovering the secrets of the universe that the adults have been hiding from them. A ginger haired girl with an attitude big enough to fight anyone who gets in their way. A sportsman and an artist who use their unique skills to their collective advantage, and a grumpy kid who always puts himself between his friends and any kind of danger. He nearly laughs when along the way, the little group meet a girl with dark, cropped hair who happens to have superpowers; she can move things with her mind, which she uses to help and protect them along their journey of discovery.

Wayne falls a little bit more in love with every detail, it's like Scott knows, but Wayne knows he doesn't, he's just heard what he'd assumed to be fantastical tales from the kids and pieced it all together with his brilliant imagination.

Then one day, Wayne pushes open the front door and there's no beautiful smells, there's just crashing and cursing coming from the back room then deadly silence other than the jingle of the bell, followed by a cautious "Wayne?"

"Yeah, it's just me," he calls back, flicking the lock on the front door, only noticing that the sign on the door was flipped to Closed when he goes to change it himself.

As he heads behind the counter, he can hear Scott dashing around, the overpowering smell of flour nearly choking him as he wanders into the back. The kitchen looks like a bomb has gone off, there's bowls and packaging and ingredients everywhere. Scott looks beyond stressed, darting between three different bowls and trying not to slip in the flour he's spilled all over the floor. He's not even wearing an apron, so his shirt is covered in flicks of batter; he'd look adorable if he didn't look so distressed.

"What happened?" Wayne asks, picking up the dropped bowl and finding the broom from the closet, sweeping up the flour, careful not to trip Scott up.

Scott sighs heavily, "Power cut killed my alarm clock," he mutters, beating the ingredients in the bowl he's holding, simultaneously pressing buttons and flicking switches on the ovens.

Wayne looks around a little bewildered, he hasn't baked anything other than a box cake since he and Al would stay over at their grans, but he isn't useless in the kitchen, especially with a little instruction.

"What can I do?" he asks, rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands thoroughly in the sink, he'd already washed up at the plant, but it wouldn't hurt to do it again, he doesn't want to give anyone food poisoning. Scott doesn't say anything but as Wayne turns around to find a drying towel, he finds it's because Scott is frozen in place gawking at him, Wayne can't keep the endeared grin from his face, "Scott?"

It seems to snap him out of it, he immediately begins stirring again, blush spreading over his cheeks, pulling the towel off of his shoulder to hand it to Wayne. He steps towards the island where most of the chaos lies and points to one of the bowls, "Could you stir that one? Just until the butter goes a creamy colour," he asks tiredly, flashing Wayne an appreciative smile when he picks up the wooden spoon and starts combining the ingredients.

Wayne glances at the clock above the ovens, Scott has to leave for school in the next hour and nothing is even close to being baked yet. The kids would help, sure it's early, but he knows they all adore Scott; Steve and Eddie have done nothing but talk fondly about him for weeks. And Wayne isn't stupid, he knows they've seen the array of coffee cups and paper bags that he's brought home recently, he just wishes they'd stop trying to goad him already.

"You got instructions for each of these?" Wayne asks, wandering around the room looking into each bowl with his bowl tucked under his arm. Scott just nods, counting to himself under his breath, grabbing a binder from the corner of the room and flicking it open on the one spare bit of counter space. It's filled with laminated pieces of paper, ingredient lists and instructions for each of the pastries that usually live in the display cabinets. "You got a phone?" Wayne asks next with an impish grin on his face.

One quick call to Steve's and twenty minutes later the kitchen is filled with the kids, each with their own bowl and recipe. Eddie's in the corner moaning about how early it is, Max is threatening Dustin for bumping into her for the sixth time in as many minutes, Steve and Mike are bickering, Steve hands on his pyjama clad hips as Mike wags his finger at him. It's loud and hectic, but everything is getting done and if they're lucky Scott might only be a few minutes late for work. 

It isn't anything like the peaceful mornings they're used to, chatting amicably as Scott potters, but as Wayne catches Scott's eye over the kids heads, he finds his own besotted smile mirrored back at him.

Dough is rolled and stretched and shaped and placed on baking trays. Robin's in charge of timings, perching herself on a stool with everyone's wristwatch in her lap, shouting out when a pastry is finished. Lucas and Steve are in charge of cooling, mainly because they're the least clumsy and Mike, Will and El are in charge of decoration, most of it only involves dipping the pastries in bowls of icing but the kids all quickly settled themselves into their preferred roles and who are Wayne and Scott to argue when they've collectively got the job done faster than they ever could've alone.

There's only four pastries to finish baking by the time Robin's yelling that they're going to be late. The kids who run the bakery during the day are already set up and dealing with customers, Wayne's agreed to stay behind and pull the remaining trays out of the oven, luckily nothing needs decorating, just cooling and taking to the display cabinets. There are implements piled high in the sink, even though Eddie and Dustin were supposed to be washing up. Wayne thinks they spent more time flicking bubbles at one another and joking around, but he doesn't mind; he's always found cleaning the dishes to be relaxing.

He finds he's exhausted as the adrenaline rush dissipates, but none of that matters as Scott dashes into the office to grab his briefcase and flies back into the kitchen, kissing Wayne quickly but firmly on the cheek, only seeming to realise what he's done after the fact. 

The kids all stop dead in their tracks, the kitchen going eerily silent for a second before Steve and Eddie start rounding up the kids, shooing them out the backdoor, dragging Robin along with them, leaving he and Scott alone in the suddenly quiet space. Scott flushes, panic flaring in his eyes, so Wayne just grabs him by the wrist and pulls him closer to plant a kiss on his flour covered cheek, dusting the ingredients off with his thumb as he wishes him a good day. Scott just grins vibrantly, heading for the exit, pausing briefly in the doorway, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Wayne isn't sure whether it's supposed to be a statement or a question, "Tomorrow," he promises with a nod. Scott's grin turns infectious then he's gone, disappearing into the alley, the door falling shut behind him, leaving Wayne alone for the first time since he left his truck. 

He pulls the first two trays out of the oven as the timer buzzes, letting the pastries cool on the rack. Then he makes a start on the dishes, letting the gentle buzz of the bakery and the warm soapy water sooth him, he hasn't felt this way since he was a teenager; sneaking kisses and sharing cigarettes with Tony behind the bleachers. 

He finds it isn't as terrible as he assumed it'd be, to fall in love again; to let someone into his life because it's easy with Scott, so, so easy. Even when they talk about what Scott calls his theories, Scott just gives him this look that almost says "God, it's a good job you're handsome" like Wayne can hear him projecting that thought into his head with his amused smile. Even when Scott lays out logical arguments that seem to prove to him that the supernatural doesn't exist, it's so easy to just give him a look of his own. They almost remind him of Eddie and Steve when they start up a discussion about sports or the game Eddie likes to play with the kids, each with their own look that says "I love you, but you're wrong" and the thought only makes him smile wider.

It doesn't take him long to finish up in the kitchen, and he feels a calm acceptance by the time the ovens are off, all the pastries cooled and on trays and all the implements clean and dry. He's always been able to do that, have his world shifted on its axis and within the hour just be able to understand within himself that that's his new normal now.

He feels almost content as he drops off the final trays out front, giving a cheerful wave to Claudia when she shouts his name from the line of people waiting for their chance to get their hands on Scott's pastries.

Seeing how busy it is out front, he turns to head out the back door, pausing as he passes the office with this overwhelming need to just leave something for Scott. He wanders in and sits down at the desk, pulling a piece of paper from the notebook on the tabletop; pen poised as he contemplates the soundness of his decision and throwing caution to the wind as he envisions Scott's smile as he'd left for work.

Wayne's never been much of a wordsmith, not like his Eddie, but he's been listening to a lot of his favourites lately, the cassettes in his truck switching regularly between Cash, Clapton and Williams. It'd been Williams this morning, and the lyrics had been circling in the back of his mind since he'd walked into the bakery's chaos. He puts the pen to the paper, hearing Don's voice in his mind as he writes, trying his hardest to make it legible.

Well I don't believe that heaven waits, for only those who congregate. I like to think of God as love, he's down below, he's up above. He's watching people everywhere, he knows who does and doesn't care. And I'm an ordinary man, sometimes I wonder who I am. But I believe in love. I believe in music. I believe in magic. And I believe in you. Pausing, he makes his choice and adds on, Love, Wayne.

[probablyhigh]

Yakuza's Sex-cretary (Hanzo Shimada x Fem!Reader smut imagine)

A little imagine I thought about a few hours ago and really wanted to write about.

Yakuza!Scion!Hanzo x Secretary!Reader (or should I say sex-cretary?)

Warnings: Sexual content, murder/slaughter references

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.𓆩♡𓆪.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This was something you imagined at nighttime, when you were alone, and also in Hanzo's presence.

You had always thought about it silently, but never did it occur to you that it may happen outside of your mind. It boggled you like an annoying song, or a phrase that would stick with you for a while.

There you were, knelt down quietly underneath the desk of the Yakuza's head, Hanzo. You felt quite ashamed and embarrassed to be in this position, however... You weren't complaining. You were pretty surprised still that the oh-so-proper and respectful Shimada would allow you to do something as vile and provocative as this moment you shared with him.

Hanzo was busying himself with a large array of papers and folders scattered across his desk, mixing his already stressed mind with more unyielding complications of murder within the Shimada Clan. Though your attention helped him ease through it all.

You gently pat his clothed thigh while taking his hardening cock in your mouth, inch by inch. You unbuttoned your cute blouse, showing off your cute, lacy bra and some eye-catching cleavage. He just barely gave you a glance and slightly furrowed his eyebrows as a response from the patting. To your surprise, a fairly light rosy colour dusted his prominent cheekbones. That reaction gave you a push, and you pleased him more to your liking.

"Mmf~" You let out a quiet little hum of satisfaction, enjoying every moment of swallowing up your overseer's cock. His response was a low grunt, not expecting your sudden change in dick-sucking technique, making his legs quiver a little bit.

You both heard footsteps. That's when Hanzo's hand smacked down on his thigh, signaling you to behave yourself. A colleague of his had walked in, and you heard them exchange conversation.

A few minutes in, you began to get bored of this. Slowly, you took his cock back in your mouth and began to suck once more. This made Hanzo visibly tense up, you could feel it in his body, but he flawlessly kept his composure in front of his colleague.

Your jaw was beginning to ache, you felt saliva dripping down the corners of your mouth and under your chin... Drenching the Shimada's cock in your spit. You began to speed up the sucking, trying to get him to finish in your mouth and throat. You tried your hardest not to make too much noise, though the thought of you getting caught giving your master a blowjob was insanely hot.

This made Hanzo jolt upwards slightly in reaction, but you were extremely lucky that his colleague was still in the room. The things he would do to you were running through his mind as he spoke.

His gloved hand found its way under the desk slowly and into your hair, undoing that cute bun your hair was tied up in. Hanzo tugged your luscious locks in a silent command for you to stop. This made your pussy leak with juices, drenching the crotch of your skimpy panties, under your pencil skirt.

But you were one determined brat.

You didn't stop, if anything, you shamelessly loved his touch. That's when his colleague had finally left the room, completely unaware of the situation... Surprisingly.

Afterwards, he yanked your head back and off of his thick cock, very slightly releasing his grip on your hair. Hanzo then pressed the point of his shoe up against your clothed, sopping wet cunt. You let out a breathy cry. The last words you heard from him that evening were like music to your curious ears and left your heart fluttering.

"Grind on it, pet. . ."

"Yes, sir. . ."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.𓆩♡𓆪.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 4

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"How do I look?" Trang asked nervously. I was standing in front of the body length mirror, putting the careful finishing touches to my hair. I had done my best to make it shine with Moroccan oil and had put it up in curlers six hours before the wedding. Now, they were hanging down in luscious curls, all flowing down my back. 

My dress, I had designed myself through sketches and then had asked Madam Malkin if it was possible to make. I had chosen a dark green colour and I looked absolutely gorgeous in it. 

I turned now, both to grab the pearl bobby pins for the finishing touch, and also to look at Trang. "You look gorgeous." I said sincerely. 

Her long frame was wrapped in a tight fitting, red dress, that look rather traditional from Vietnam. There was also intricated, gold designs sewed all over the dress, with a tight fitted collar. 

She had pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail, with some of it loose around her face. She had paired it with light makeup, besides the eyes which were dark and made them pop. She looked stunningly pretty. 

"Oliver is going to have a field day." I continued, grinning. She blushed, looking down at the floor. 

"Is the cake done?" Trang asked, changing the subject as she came over, taking the pearl bobby pins to help me with my hair. I'd always been hopeless at this sort of thing. 

"Yes. I put the finishing touches to it today." You said with a bit of a smile. "I think it's a bit. . . different." 

"Oh? Did you make it chocolate icing instead of vanilla?" Trang smirked. 

"No, it's still a white cake and I still did roses." I answered. "But, well it is seven layers Trang. And so I did some not very traditional flavors for a couple of them. Like one is a softer sort of cake and its cookie dough flavored. And I might've baked some very small chocolate chip cookies to act as the leaves for the roses." 

"It sounds delicious." Trang hummed. "Who cares if its not traditional, I just want to eat the whole thing myself now. Thanks, I'll be salivating the entire time." 

"I'm sure Oliver can help you out." I jested and then yelped as she punched my arm. "Sorry!"

"Are we almost ready to go down?" Trang asked, her blush fading a little as she carefully finished the entire outfit off by adding some earrings. 

"We are," I joked, "But Remus is another story." 

I was waiting last minute to dress my baby boy up in his little tux since I knew he probably wasn't going to like the long sleeves in the beginnings of simmering August. But they were the only kind out there and I wanted him to look smart. I was going to take pictures of him and find a way to get them to Severus. 

I hated that Severus was missing out on his sons 'firsts'. He hadn't spoken yet though, so maybe he would hold off on that until I went back to Hogwarts. 

Remus was a little cranky as I picked him up from his crib. He was pouting, though he wasn't crying yet. He was whimpering in displeasure though. I decided to breast feed him and change his diaper. 

I dressed him up in his smart suit, making sure the bow tie was straight. He had quieted down a little and I smiled. I wondered if it was okay if I let him lick some icing off of my finger. I would ask Mrs. Weasley. It was made of milk but it was also sweet. 

Trang and I walked down the stairs to find that the most everyone was outside. 

The first people I saw were Fred and George, standing with Ron and another red headed boy who was Harry in disguise. They were holding seating plans that they were using to help other people to their seats. 

I saw Fred dart forwards to seat a group of Veela cousins. I smiled a little, knowing that years ago my jealousy would've spiked through the roof. Now, I was just hoping that he had a good time. 

"Do you see Oliver?" Trang's voice was breathless. It would be the first time in seeing him in a while. I knew that she was nervous. I had never seen her show interest to a boy before so I knew this was a big deal for her. 

I scanned the crowd, but didn't see the Quidditch player anywhere. 

"No. But it's still early. It's still just mostly the family here." I said in comfort. If I was right about Oliver, he was rather serious about Trang. He would be here. 

I did see Tonks and Dad approach Harry- or the boy that was Harry. Tonks spoke to Harry but Dad looked miserable and I frowned. 

I knew I could've interfered. Told dad that the baby wasn't going to end up like him. But I also knew that Harry needed to be the one to put him in his place. It was necessary to the future. 

"Trang!" A voice behind the two of us said. I didn't turn around right away because Oliver sounded like a strangled chicken and I really didn't want to laugh in his face. 

After a second, I turned to see that the both of them were blushing crazily, holding hands and talking in soft tones. Oliver did look over and he smiled a little easier, "Hello Elizabeth. How are you?" 

"Good, thanks." I smiled, though it was mostly a lie. "How are you? And Quidditch?" 

"Oh it's been great!" Oliver relaxed completely, and smiled hugely at Trang. "I was actually just telling Trang that we've got a new Captain. I think we're going to make it at the top this year." 

"Well, you are a superb Keeper." I said with an easy smile. "Anyways, Trang. I'll see the two of you inside. I'm going to say hi to dad." 

I quickly left them by themselves and approached the tent as Hermione had just joined Ron and Harry. 

". . . personally, she's rude to everyone." Ron was saying to Hermione. 

"Talking about Muriel?" George asked as he and Fred exited the tent now. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided." I giggled hard. "Old bat. I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings." 

"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" Hermione asked. 

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end." George admitted. 

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party. He used to down an entire bottle of firewhiskey, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his-" 

Harry roared with laughter and I smiled a little. 

"Yes, he sounds a real charmer." Hermione said dryly while Ron added, "Never married, for some reason." 

"You amaze me." 

We were all laughing until a new, thickly accented voice said, "you look vunderful." 

"Viktor!" Hermione shrieked, dropping her bag, which she scrambled to pick up while blushing. "I didn't know you were- goodness- it's lovely to see- how are you?" 

I smirked. 

"How come you're here?" Ron demanded. 

"Ron!" I scolded while Krum replied, "Fleur invited me." 

Harry shook his hand and then Krum turned to me and smiled. "Hello Elizabeth." 

We hugged tightly and I offered to show him to his seat since we were sitting near each other. 

"He is very cute." Krum offered, motioning to my baby. 

"Thank you." I smiled a little. 

Krum and I had kept in contact with each other ever since he'd left school in the fourth year. I felt that I knew him as much as I did with the Weasleys or Hermione or Harry. We kept up a steady stream of chatter until I told him I had to get to my seat. 

I settled down next to Trang who was gaping at me. "You know Viktor Krum?" 

"Oh." I blinked. "Did I forget to mention that we're penpals of like three years?" 

"Yes!" Trang nearly shrieked. "He's a famous Quidditch player!" 

"I'm a famous Quidditch player." I heard Oliver mutter quietly to himself which made Trang giggle and then drop the conversation. 

Harry, Ron, Fred, and George settled around us as well. Harry next to me and Fred and George in front of us. 

Bill and Charlie stood at the front- Charlie being Bills' best man. Both of them were wearing dress robes with white roses in their buttonholes. They both looked extremely handsome and Fred wolf-whistled, which encouraged the veela cousins to giggle. 

The crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons that decorated the marquee. 

I heard Hermione gasp and I turned to see that Monsieur Delacour and Fleur were walking down the aisle. Well, actually, Fleur seemed to be almost gliding. The dress was actually very simple. But that seemed to work for her best, as she seemed to be almost glowing, the way I imagined elves did in the Lord of the Rings with their long blond hair. 

Ginny and Gabrielle were wearing dresses of gold, Fleur's light seemed to envelope them to make them shine as well. As Fleur reached Bill, his werewolf scars seemed to almost disappear. 

"Ladies and gentlemen. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls-" 

"Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely. But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut." Aunt Muriel's' voice carried from the front row so that I couldn't hear the squeaky wizard that was performing Bill and Fleur's wedding. 

Ginny, hearing her proper name, glanced around and winked at someone- probably Harry. 

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle to be your lawfully married wife?" 

"I do." 

Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were sobbing into scraps of lace in the front row. I could hear Hagrid blowing his nose from the back of the tent, sounding a bit like an elephant. Trang had her hands pressed to her mouth, tears in her eyes while Oliver put an arm around her shoulder. Hermione too, had tears in her eyes. Meanwhile, I fought the urge to starting laughing. 

"Do you, Fleur Isabelle, take William Arthur to be your lawfully married husband?" 

"I do." 

"Then I declare you bonded for life." The wizard waved his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figure as they kissed. Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons bursting open so that birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din of hands clapping together. 

"Ladies and gentlemen! If you would please stand up!" 

I stood quickly, starting to rock Remus a little. The loud noises of the cheers and claps along with the explosion of the bells had woken him from his sleep and he was starting to fuss. 

The wand was waved again. The seats we had been sitting on rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished, so that they stood beneath a canopy supported by golden poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside. Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor; the hovering chairs grouped themselves around small, white-clothed tables, which all floated gracefully back to earth around it, and the golden-jacketed band trooped toward a podium. 

"Smooth." Ron said on the other side of Harry. 

"We should go and congratulate them!" Hermione declared. 

I stood up and moved away to see that Tonks and Dad had taken a table. Tonks was beaming but dad seemed to have a storm cloud over his head. He did brighten a little upon seeing me. 

"Oh! You look gorgeous!" Tonks declared, hopping up, pulling me into a hug. 

"Thank you." I said, hugging her back tightly. "As do you." 

She was wearing dress robes of a pale pink colour. Her hair was blond and she looked gorgeous. 

"Elizabeth." 

I turned to see Charlie there, grinning, "Do want to dance?" 

"Oh!" I said in surprise. "Sure." 

"I'll take this little guy." Tonks said happily, pulling Remus out of my arms, cuddling him close. I smiled and then took Charlies' hand, letting him lead me onto the dance floor. 

We spun around on the dance floor and I managed to forget most of my worries. I still had months before I would lose the people closest to me. And with Fawkes, I now had plans in the marking to save their lives. All of them. 

Charlie and I danced through several different songs. I was half afraid that with the romantic atmosphere, he would try breaching the conversation of the two of us. It wasn't exactly a secret he liked me at this point and Mrs. Weasley had been rather encouraging of it. But I think he also knew that I wouldn't accept him and he was happy enough to simply have this. 

Lee wanted to cut in after though, so I smiled at Charlie and went dancing with Lee. After two songs, Bill stepped in and danced with me while Charlie danced with Fleur. 

"He's very interested in you, you know." Bill said suddenly, eyes flickering to Charlie. 

"I know." I said softly. I guessed I was slightly wrong. He was just going to have his brother broach the conversation. "But I can't." 

"I know." Bill said. "Your heart belongs to someone else." 

"Yes. As stupid as it sounds." I smiled a little. 

"No, it's not stupid." Bill said seriously. His blue eyes suddenly made me wary. They reminded me of Dumbledore's in a way, like they were looking through me to my very soul. "I may not have like Snape and Snape never liked any of us. But he had a soft spot for you and, well, he loves you Elizabeth. Regardless of his path he has chosen." 

"Don't get to wise on me Bill." I joked to cover up my anxiety and feelings. "I still prefer being the wisest person you know." 

Bill chuckled, letting the conversation die out thankfully. But it still left me unsettled as I went and took Remus back from Tonks. 

He had fallen asleep contentedly and I sat down in one of the chairs to rest. I kicked off the thin stilettos heels that I had been wearing the entire time. They were killing my feet- but I hadn't expected to dance. 

Viktor was in a terrible mood, eyeing Lunas' father with an extreme dislike. I knew what Krum though the small triangular sign on his chest stood for. But I also knew what Lunas' father thought it stood for. 

Fred and George both wanted to take me for a spin on the dance floor, though they later sneaked off with some veela cousins after releasing me. I didn't mind. I was more preoccupied with letting Fred have as much fun as possible. 

The red headed Harry was sitting at another table with Elphias Doge and Aunt Muriel. They seemed to be in a great argument while Harry seemed rather stunned and uncomfortable. I knew what the conversation was there and I had no ambition to join it. 

Trang and Oliver seemed to have disappeared and I had my suspicions of where they'd disappeared off to. I had told Trang there would be problems later and she'd probably 'snuck off' with Oliver to keep him safe. 

I figured I might as well do the same. 

I got to my feet now, ready to head back to the Burrow. I wasn't sure where I would go, but I knew I had to go underground before I went back to Hogwarts. 

As though my actions and thoughts prompted instant reaction, a glowing, silver Lynx patronus gracefully landed lightly in the middle of the dancers. Everyones' heads turned towards it and I stiffened. 

My eyes immediately found Harry. It was a little early for this, Hermione had not yet reached him either. 

I pushed aside my own safety, being the only person moving as I ran towards the red-headed disguise. 

"The Ministry has fallen." Kingsley's slow, deep voice emitted from the Patronus. "Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming." 

I grabbed Harry's shoulder. "Time to go Harry." 

Harry let me drag him by the hand while he fumbled, drawing his wand. Hermione was with us in seconds, her wand already drawn as well. 

"Ron!" Hermione screamed as someone else screamed and then the crowd was panicking, scattering like cockroaches under a light. "Ron, where are you?" 

Masked figures apparated around the tent. I drew my wand, switching Remus into my other wand. I saw Tonks and Dad raising their wands. I only heard Dad's confident voice shout, "Protego!" 

Harry and Hermione got separated from me in the chaos. I was using the tall figures of the other people around me to hide. I needed to get away from here. Remus was starting to cry and Death Eaters heads' swiveled towards the sound. 

Shit. They knew about Remus. 

"ELIZABETH!" That was dads' voice shouting above the crowd. Trying to find me. I slipped towards him, before there was someone blocking me. 

Hagrid grabbed my arm, dragging me away from the crowd towards my father. Spells bounced off his back as they usually did and I fired back as I ran with him. 

"Elizabeth!" Dad's voice was relieved and he nearly shoved me towards Trang. "Take her to your parents house! Now!" 

Tonks grabbed my arm and we disapparated on the spot. 

I blinked, feeling slightly disoriented. Tonks was gone again in seconds, possibly back to The Burrow. 

I stumbled up the stairs and knocked on the door. 

Andromeda opened the door. "Elizabeth?" 

"The Ministry has fallen." I repeated Kingsley's words as I hurried into the house, putting Remus down in the crib. I needed to grab something- all of my preparations were still at the Burrow. "They attacked the Burrow. All of the houses have lost their protection. I have to-" 

The sounds of several people apparating sounded outside and all three of us turned silently towards the door. Pounding at the door proved that it was not someone friendly. 

Andromeda opened the door with a flick of her wand while I pushed the crib into the room slightly so that it was hidden. 

I didn't recognize any of the Death Eaters as they entered the house. I could only hope that meant none of them knew who I was too. 

The next few minutes seemed to pass in some sort of hazy blur as I was half stuck in reality, half stuck in my visions. I remember that the others were screaming under the use of the Cruciatus Curse. I remember that I too was put under the curse. 

I remember that they asked about Harry and the flight. Things became a little clearer after that. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were safe. I hoped Hermione had read the letter I left her about how she shouldn't use Voldemort's name since it was taboo. 

I focused on them. I was on my knees, my body radiating in pain. I was stupidly aware of my dress and how I was afraid that it was going to tear. 

"Well?" The Death Eater demanded, turning the wand back on Ted. Meanwhile, one of the Death Eaters had found Remus and had him in his arms. The Death Eater smirked viciously, turning the wand on Remus. 

"I wasn't there!" I blurted out. "None of us were. I was just in charge of getting Mad- Eye Moody's body back. That was it! I wasn't with Harry! I don't know where he is!" 

Lie, after lie, after lie. But Remus was the only thing I really had left of Severus. And he was the person I cared about more than myself. I couldn't bear the thought of my son even getting a paper cut or a small bruise on his knee. Torture? It would kill me. 

"Please." I sobbed, holding my arms out for my baby. 

Remus wasn't given back to me, but handed over to Andromeda who quickly sheltered my little boy. 

"Take her." The Death Eater snarled. 

I knew that if I fought, they would become more suspicious. Right now, none of them seemed to know that I was Elizabeth Kane. I couldn't risk Remus. 

I struggled a little, making sure that my wand fell onto the floor and then I kicked it under the couch. I had had that wand for so many years, I wasn't going to let it get snapped. 

I struggled a little more once we were actually out of the house and as I heard the sounds of more apparition, wanting to see who was here now. 

"ELIZABETH!" Dad's voice bellowed in the air and with a gut wrenching swirl, my eyes met his, before I disappeared. 

⬅️➡️

[grimmeghoulz]

Can i have some terzo x fem!reader where they are chilling in the gardens together? Like tooth rotting fluff too! Thanks!

YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY MORE FLUFF!!! absolutely love me some fluff

this baby has been LONG overdue (i blame adhd)

-----

The Gardens of the Ministry, tended to by Primo, have been you and Terzo's favourite hangout spot for months now. Luscious leaves decorate the walls, gigantic trees singing in the wind as the colours of countless flowers glow in the dawn light.

Terzo sighs as he takes in the sight. "It's always so beautiful, isn't it?"

You can't help but look at him. So few people get the chance to see him without his makeup, yet he's chosen you to look at him daily. He smirks as he catches you staring. "All these flowers and yet you choose to look at me. Flattering."

Your eyes dart away awkwardly. "I'm sorry dear, it's just-"

Suddenly he grabs you by the hips and lifts you above his head, various petals swirling around you as he carries you close to his chest. He always laughs so heartily around you.

You press your foreheads together as you cuddle and laugh. "You're such a tease!", you giggle as you kiss him. Your arms drape across his shoulders as you look him in the eyes, feeling warmth fill your body as the cold of the night creeps in.

He gestures with his head past you, 'Look!', his eyes pointing towards a particular flower. Still in his arms, your eyes sparkle in awe as a purple lilly opens its petals as it bathes in the moonlight, pollen reflecting like stars in the night sky.

Terzo laughs smugly. "That's my heart when I'm around you."

You can't help but jokingly roll your eyes. "So cheesy, 'Lord of Hell'."

He laughs, gently caressing your face as the soft light of the moon illuminates your eyes.

"Anything to make my love smile."

[shimmerbeasts]

One of the things Wyll enjoyed about the Emerald Grove was that he got to help train young warriors. Thus when he was not running about attempting to find Karlach, or out on other hunts that Mizora sent him on, he was here. Many of them knew the Blade of Fronters here, especially the children who often looked up to him. These children often came to him for lessons, which he was doing now. "That's a good swing, but you have to adjust your posture," Wyll instructed calmly as he knelt down before the small tiefling child. He brought up his hands to straighten the child's back and shoulders, then guided his hands to his hands. The rapier the child was wielding was adjusted to a more regal hold. "Like that. Now follow my lead and keep this pose." Wyll stood up and mimicked the pose with ease, pointing his blade at the mannequin ahead before them. A normal human and stone eye briefly flickered to a female figure approaching them, Mizora. Thanks to his eye he would always feel her, no matter the disguise he would always know it was her. There was a glint of grin then, before he turned his attention back to the mannequin as he craftfully thrusted his blade forward, landing a precise blow.

"Exactly like that, if you need do a little dance with your feet, pace back and forth. Now you try." Wyll backed away a bit to get out of their way, moving closer to Mizora. "Come to check in on me, did you?" He whispered into her ear, though never taking his eyes off the tiefling as they followed his instructions. "Perfect strike! Keep that up and you'll be like the Blade of Frontiers in no time. "Do you have any pointers, stranger?" His eyes gleamed with recognition at Mizora, his grin widening. "You look like you could teach him a thing or two."

The Emerald Grove masqueraded its tensions and agitations with warm colours and a group of treehuggers. Even now, Mizora could sense the anxiety and fear, lacing the air like the smoke of a hidden fire. The druids saw nothing but hellions in the tieflings, meanwhile, the tieflings feared they would be turned on at a moment's notice. All the while, not too far away from the grove, the goblin pack was ever encroaching upon their territory.

It was a disaster, waiting to happen, and while Mizora normally would have delighted in such things, right now, she didn't care much for the fate of the grove. Wyll was using this as a distraction. Idling around, trying to play the hero once more when he had a hunt to fulfil. Karlach was still out there, breathing, and Zariel had been livid about her escape. So livid in fact that her mother cared little for whether or not, the tiefling would be brought to her dead or alive.

If Karlach died, then her soul would respawn upon the Styx and Zariel could claim it for herself. That blasted tiefling would finally be below Mizora in status! So below in fact that Mizora would be able to get away with torturing Karlach and have very little fear of repercussions. At the same time, the mere thought of getting to eat Karlach's head... Mizora rarely engaged in openly vile acts, but this would sathe her appetite quite nicely.

To avoid aggravating the tension between the tieflings and druids even more, Mizora had intentionally taken on the shape of a beautiful woman with cream-rose skin and luscious, strong, golden-orange hair. Nobody in the grove questioned her presence. If Mizora wanted, like any devil, she could fool with your senses and make you accept her being there. At the same time, she also knew exactly how to draw your attention exclusively towards her.

Right now, Mizora's sole focus was on the young, brown man, who stood on a wooden podium with training dummies. Wyll's rapier gleamed in the light. He was surrounded by a small flock of tiefling children. They kept just enough distance from Wyll, so that he might show one child in particular how to wield a small sword, which looked already way too long for the brat. Mizora climbed up the ladder and stopped by the staircase's post, crossing her arms before her chest as she watched Wyll finish his little striking lesson.

Like the good bloodhound, he was, the famed Blade of Frontiers heeled immediately and stopped by her side. Their eyes met for a few seconds before, both Cambion and warlock chose to focus on the tiefling child trying its hardest to mimic their steps. Mizora replied: "You have found yourself a nice, little place to idle, Wyll. But remember: Our arrangement still stands. Karlach is still making the Sword Coast unsafe. As entertaining as this little detour is, you must remember your priorities."

She fell silent when suddenly the tiefling children approached her and Wyll curiously. One of them, a young, red-skinned girl with a bandage over what must have been an injured eye, looked between the two of them and gave a cocky grin. She said: "Well, well... Will you look at that? The famed Blade of Frontiers has got a special someone after all? Don't you think you are dating a bit up the ladder, buddy?"

Shock gave way to a swell of laughter. Mizora bent forward and waved her arms a touch as she laughed hysterically, silver eyes closing a touch. The tiefling child shouted: "Oih, what's so funny, Harpy?" Mizora gasped for air and brushed across her cheek with a knuckle as she finally managed to settle back down.

She said: "I am very sorry for laughing, deary. It is just... You are mistaken." Mizora leaned forward to be more on the tiefling's eye level. "I am a very treasured friend of the Blade, not his lover. We go way back. One might even argue, I know the Blade's beginnings."

"Ooooooh", made all the tiefling children in excited union as Mizora rose again and flashed Wyll a grin of her own. However as he suggested that she might be able to teach the children a thing or two, a frown crossed her face. It was hard to pinpoint whether the suggestion was spoken in jest or earnest.

Her red eyes drifted over the tiefling children, who looked between her and Wyll in curiosity and expectations. If her tail were visible, it might have twitched now. Still as Mizora took them all in, an idea sprung into her mind. Curling her lips, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she thought: Alright, puppy. Let's indulge that stupid idea of yours.

Mizora squinted her eyes as if she was indeed thinking about what she might be able to bestow upon these children. Rubbing her chin, she suddenly smiled and said: "I might only know how to handle a rapier, but I feel you little rascals would have a much better chance if I taught you something only you can do. Did you know you are naturally capable of creating fire?"

@faerunscursed cont. from here.