#thin white duchess

[pjhfan83]

The Thin White Duchess!?

[xproblematiquexx]

Ok, enough with this nonsense! David will you please come back and pick me up? I’m done waiting, I don’t like here and I miss you, so hurry up!

[baelabong]

ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʟʟᴇʏ

(ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

plot: karina as Rose and y/n as Lily. Karina can’t handle the thought of losing y/n, takes matters into her own hands, not very maturely …..

Pairing: toxic! Creditor! Karina x idiot! duchess!Fem!reader

Note/warnings: kissing, swearing, also this wasnt requested but again, i am working on requests because i love everything being requested so far. Karina isnt as much of an asshole as rose in the actual webtoon 🫣 but that’s because i believe lily can fix rose 😟😟 (i lie)

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the mansion's garden. You’re sitting on the stone bench, Aeri beside you, the two of you huddled close as you whisper and laugh softly. Your hands are busy weaving a daisy chain, your fingers brushing occasionally, sending little sparks of warmth through your veins. Aeri’s presence is calming, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions you often feel around Karina.

From the balcony above, Karina watches you, her expression darkening with every shared smile between you and Aeri. Her lip twitching in annoyance. There’s something raw and feral in her gaze, a storm brewing in her chest. She grips the railing so tightly her knuckles turn white, her breath coming out in slow, measured huffs as she tries to keep her temper in check. But the sight of Aeri’s hand resting on your thigh, her lips so close to your ear, breaks something inside Karina.

Karina’s thoughts are a chaotic mess as she leaves the balcony, her steps heavy as she makes her way down the stairs. Each step feels like it’s amplifying the burning rage in her chest, the jealousy searing through her like a wildfire. The image of Aeri’s hand on your thigh, her lips brushing against your ear, fuels her anger, twisting her thoughts into darker territory.

By the time she reaches the garden, the gravel crunching under her feet, the sound alerts you and Aeri. You both look up, your laughter dying down as you notice the storm brewing in Karina’s eyes. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, the lightheartedness you felt moments ago vanishing into thin air.

“Karina,” you start, a soft smile playing on your lips, an attempt to ease the tension. But that smile quickly fades when you see the fury etched across her face, the way her eyes seem to pierce right through you.

“Leave,” Karina’s voice is sharp, cutting through the quiet of the evening like a blade. Her gaze is locked on Aeri, who flinches at the venom in her tone. “Now.”

Aeri hesitates, her eyes flicking between you and Karina, uncertainty evident in her expression. “Karina, I—”

“I said leave!” Karina’s voice rises, the anger she’s been holding back finally spilling over. Her fists clench at her sides, the tension in her body clear. Aeri’s eyes widen in surprise, and you can see the hurt flash across her face, but she doesn’t dare to argue further.

Aeri stands, her movements slow, as if she’s afraid to provoke Karina any more than she already has. She turns to you, her expression softening. “I’ll talk to you later, Y/N,” she says quietly, offering you a small, apologetic smile.

You nod, trying to reassure her, but your attention is mostly on Karina, who hasn’t taken her eyes off Aeri. As Aeri walks away, her footsteps fading into the distance, the silence that follows is thick, almost suffocating.

You finally look at Karina, whose chest is rising and falling with the effort to control her breathing. The fury in her eyes hasn’t subsided, but there’s something else there too—something raw and desperate.

“What the hell was that, Karina?” you ask, your voice shaking slightly, though you try to keep it steady. “You didn’t have to be so harsh.”

“Didn’t I?” Karina snaps, taking a step closer to you. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch her touch you like that? To see you laugh with her like... like I don’t even exist?”

That’s not even true! “” you insist, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re reading too much into this, Karina. Aeri is a friend, nothing more.”

Karina starts walking back towards the estate, heavy breathes and clearly stomping as she walks.

When you’re alone, Karina turns her gaze to you, her eyes wild and dark. “Do you enjoy making me jealous, Y/N? Do you like to see me suffer?”

You blink, taken aback by the accusation. “What are you talking about, Karina? Aeri’s just a friend—”

“Just a friend?” Karina cuts you off, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think I’m blind? The way she looks at you, the way you laugh with her, it’s more than friendship, and you know it.”

You stand up, your own anger rising to match Karina’s. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m allowed to have friends, Karina.”

Karina steps closer, her voice low and dangerous. “Not when they touch you like that. Not when they look at you like they own you. You’re mine, Y/N. Mine.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a chaotic blend of fear, frustration, and a strange thrill at Karina’s possessiveness. “I’m not your possession, Karina. You can’t just control me like this—”

“Can’t I?” Karina’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper as her hand shoots out, gripping your wrist with a force that makes you wince. Her eyes darken, her pupils dilated with a mix of anger and something more primal. “You belong to me, Y/N. I’ve given you everything, and I won’t let someone like Aeri take you away from me.”

The intensity of her words sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to back down. “This isn’t love, Karina. This is obsession,” you say, your voice trembling but steady.

For a moment, her gaze wavers, and you see a flicker of vulnerability beneath the fury. “I love you,” she whispers, the desperation in her voice almost breaking your resolve. “I just... I can’t lose you. The thought of you with someone else... it drives me insane.”

Seeing the cracks in her tough exterior, you decide to take control. You pull her closer, dragging her towards the nearest chair with a force that surprises even you. Before she can protest, you push her down onto it, and in one swift motion, straddle her lap.

Her breath hitches as you move her hair away from her face, your fingers gentle as they trace her cheek. “Would I ever do this to Aeri?” you ask softly, your voice a low murmur against her skin.

Before she can respond, you begin kissing her face, your lips brushing against her forehead, her cheeks, her nose—anywhere but her lips. Each kiss is soft, deliberate, meant to convey the depth of your feelings for her. You can feel her body relax beneath you, the tension in her shoulders melting away as she leans into your touch.

“Y/N...” Karina’s voice is barely audible, a shaky breath escaping her as you press your lips to the sensitive spot just below her ear. Her hands find your waist, gripping you tightly, as if she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go.

You trail kisses down her jawline, taking your time, letting her feel every moment. When you reach her neck, you suck gently on the skin, earning a quiet, breathy whimper from her. The sound sends a thrill through you, spurring you to kiss her harder, your teeth grazing the soft skin of her neck.

“Does this feel like I belong to anyone else?” you whisper against her throat, your voice teasing but laced with sincerity.

Karina’s grip on you tightens, her nails digging into your sides. “No,” she breathes out, her voice trembling with need. “No, you’re mine... only mine.”

You pull back slightly to look into her eyes, your hands cupping her face. “Exactly,” you say, your tone firm but loving. “I’m yours, Karina. You don’t need to be afraid of losing me. But you have to trust me.”

She looks up at you, her eyes glossy and vulnerable, and you lean down, capturing her lips in a deep, heated kiss. Karina responds immediately, her hands sliding up your back and pulling you closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together. The kiss is desperate, a little rough around the edges, her teeth grazing your bottom lip, tugging lightly before she soothes the sting with her tongue.

You let out a quiet moan, your body arching into hers, and she takes that as an invitation to explore further. Her hands slide under your shirt, fingers tracing the curves of your waist, her touch both possessive and gentle. The sensation makes you shiver, and Karina takes advantage of your distraction, deepening the kiss until you’re both breathless.

When you pull away to catch your breath, Karina’s lips follow yours, pressing soft, needy kisses along your jawline. “You’re everything to me, Y/N,” she murmurs between kisses, her voice rough with emotion. “I can’t... I won’t lose you.”

You press your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling as you cradle her face in your hands. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, your lips brushing against hers with each word. “I’m right here, Karina.”

Karina’s eyes flutter shut, a shaky whimper escaping her as you begin to kiss down her neck again, your lips and teeth working together to leave a trail of possessive marks. Her body trembles beneath you, her hands clutching at your shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“I love you,” she breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words are laced with so much intensity that it makes your heart ache.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice soft but filled with conviction. You kiss her lips again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her, the way she melts into your touch, her body surrendering to you completely.

Karina’s hands slide back up to your waist, pulling you even closer, until there’s no space left between you. The kiss turns languid, a slow exploration of each other’s mouths, as if you’re both trying to memorize every detail, every sensation.

As the kiss deepens, a soft rustling sound reaches Karina’s ears. She freezes momentarily, her gaze shifting toward the source of the noise. Her heart pounds when she sees Aeri standing at the edge of the garden, her eyes wide with shock and hurt. Karina's lips curl into a subtle, satisfied smile.

Unaware of Aeri’s presence, you continue to kiss Karina, lost in the moment. Karina, however, sees Aeri clearly and feels a surge of possessiveness and triumph.

The kiss becomes more urgent and assertive, each touch and movement calculated to reaffirm her hold over you. Karina’s eyes, though half-closed in the intensity of the kiss, occasionally flicker back to where Aeri stands, her satisfaction growing with each second.

Without breaking the kiss, Karina turns her focus back to you, her grip on your waist tightening. The sight of Aeri's distress fuels something dark and possessive within her. She deepens the kiss, her lips moving with a fervent intensity as if to stake her claim.

You're lost in the kiss, oblivious to Aeri's presence, but Karina is acutely aware.

She revels in the knowledge that Aeri has seen her in this intimate moment with you. The kiss becomes more urgent, her movements deliberate, each touch meant to assert her dominance and ensure that Aeri understands her place.

"Does this feel like I'm letting you go?" she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin.

When Aeri finally turns and walks away, the sound of her footsteps fading into the distance, Karina pulls back slightly but maintains a smug smile. Her eyes meet yours, and you see a mixture of possessive satisfaction and triumph.

Eventually, you pull back slightly, your breath mingling with Karina’s. “I need to freshen up,” you murmur, giving her a tender kiss on the cheek before heading toward the mansion.

Karina watches you with a possessive gaze as you make your way through the grand hallway and into the bathroom. She then turns back toward the garden, her mind still buzzing with the intensity of the moment.

As Karina walks toward the bathroom, she unexpectedly bumps into Aeri, who has been waiting in the shadows. Aeri’s eyes are red, her face a mask of hurt and confusion. Karina’s smile widens, a dark satisfaction glinting in her eyes.

“Did you enjoy our little show?” Karina’s voice is low and taunting, laced with a sinister edge. She steps closer to Aeri, her gaze piercing.

Aeri flinches at the words, struggling to maintain her composure. “I... I just needed to clear my head,” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina’s smile remains fixed as she leans in slightly. “Well, now you know your place,” she says softly, her tone almost a purr of satisfaction. “I suggest you stay out of our way.”

Without waiting for a response, Karina brushes past Aeri and heads toward the bathroom, her demeanor radiating a mixture of triumph and possessiveness. The night’s events have left an unspoken tension hanging heavily in the air, with Karina clearly asserting her dominance over the situation.

[hanasnx]

just like a daddy should

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: this concept of dark!hayden is co-created/developed by @xstarkillerx | dead dove do not eat for emphasis on age gap relationship and heavy daddy kink content. dark!hayden is an au, it does not reflect my view of hayden christensen as a person. in this au he's not an actor. WARNINGS: dead dove do not eat | f!reader | dark!hayden | daddy content | age gap | problematic behavior | ass patting | mild exhibitionism | no y/n

Your heels clack against the wooden boards of the stairs, climbing them to invite yourself onto the resort staging set above the beach. The bodyguard steps aside for you, he knows who you're here with.

"—liquidating that branch'll do nothing for you here. You'll be bleeding yourself—" the sound of DARK!HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN's voice soothes your worries, approaching where he lounges on a cushioned chair. His elbow is hooked onto the corner of it, and his leg is folded up to rest his ankle on his knee. His outfit remarkably smart, white linen shirt tucked into gray dress pants and a thin black belt. Never mind his comfort, you ignore his companion, interrupt his conversation, and invite yourself onto his lap. He sees the stressed lines of your brows, and makes room for you right as you take your seat.

"Daddy." you whine. The strings of your micro-bikini catch on his clothes, and he discretely tugs down a cup to cover a bit more of the curve of your chest that'd been revealed. You frown at your hand, "I broke a nail. And I just got these done!" you cry, hopelessly examining the dejected state of your cracked acrylic, and you feel his breath against your shoulder as he looks over it. Gently, he envelopes your hand in his, drawing it in his line of sight.

"Oh, duchess, let me see." he sympathizes you, studying what you offer him while he palms your bare thigh. "Don't worry. We'll fix it later. I've gotta take care of some things here." he coos, his lips murmuring against your ear that shoots tingles up your spine. You sought comfort and attention, and that's exactly what he's given you. Hayden can see out of the corner of his eye how his associate cannot take his eyes off of you, nor the shameless display before him.

Hayden notes how rude you are, how you have no manners, ignoring his companion, neglecting to introduce yourself. The tenacity of being young and naive is so deliciously novel to him. So much so it brings entertained curls to the corners of his mouth. You pivot more into Hayden's direction, his hand sliding against your back as you do, and he settles into the cushion when you lean into him. Curious fingers latch onto the collar of his button-up, widening it's opening to expose more of his chest. Fingertips toy with the lines of his collarbones, watching yourself fidget, pouting at it. "I miss you." you say, hushed, and meet his patient gaze. He says nothing, so you take it as your cue to leave. You push off him, planting your high heels on the floor to stand. In newfound giddy energy, you show off your ass to him. "What do you think of my new tattoo?"

A little tramp stamp is visible right above your low waistband. As he lingers a glance on it, his expression hardens, and his voice lowers, "We'll talk about this later." A pat on your ass is your signal to get going, intent to avoid making a scene here. No one said you can get a tattoo, tattoos are too grown for your virgin skin. To diffuse the tension he knows he's caused, he calls after you casually, "Wait for me at the bar. Order me something, huh? Surprise me."

His associate looks after you, gaze glued to the way your hips sway as you recede. You're young, and he can't pin down what your relationship to Hayden is exactly. When he shifts his attention back to Hayden, he's met with a hint of a prideful smile. "Sorry about that. My buddy's daughter. We're close, you know?"

[mrsjellymunson]

📚 WIP word game 📚

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Thank you (I think 😏) to the lovely @indulgence-be-thy-name @idontgettechnology for the tag, my word is WANDER (side note: who knew how many sentences of mine would start with S, H or Y???)

W

“What’s going on? Mike and Jane went all… funny, and then just got up and left.”

You don’t know what to tell them, so settle for conveying Eddie’s orders.

“You need to hide. There’s something out there, and you need to get out of sight and stay quiet.”

You pull off Lucas’s blankets and shake Mike’s shoulder, whisper-shouting ‘wake up’ as loudly as you dare to try to rouse Dustin. The teens complain, but when they spy your serious expression and the fear in your eyes, they do as you say. They begin to move the sofa for at least a couple of them to get behind, and start to brainstorm ideas for other hiding places.

From Knock At The Cabin, Part Three

A

And, somehow, you don’t mind it one bit.

You attempt to keep your composure, but your shaking hands betray you and the spoon you're holding clatters to the worktop.

Eyes a richer ochre hue than the coffee you were failing to focus on bore into yours, as Eddie suggests,

“Y’know what? Screw the coffee, Duchess. I’ve got something I think you’ll find far more… stimulating.”

From Good Things (Come In Threes), Chapter 2: Home Alone

N

“Need your words, sweetheart. I need you to tell me.”

You gasp as he places a gentle but firm open-mouthed bite to your covered shoulder, the damp heat of his breath passing easily through the thin fabric. His grip tightens, making you gasp and hold your breath, but you somehow manage to stammer,

“Yes, Eddie. I want this.”

Turning so you can just see him over your shoulder, you add,

“I want you.”

From Damsels & Debauchery: The D&D Chronicles; Part Two: Two Player Game (link to Part 1 as this doesn’t have a series masterlist yet)

D

“Do you… like what you see, Princess?”

Your eyes continue to scan his chest as you hum in approval.

“Oh yes, definitely…”

You bring one of your hands up between you and run the tips of your fingers over the tattoos on his pec. Eddie shivers and inhales a shaky breath, and then whines a little as you flatten your hand over the muscle.

Your other hand traces up his waist and abs, making him stutter out a bashful giggle as you hit a ticklish spot, until both hands come to rest on the upper part of his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath your palms. You look over his torso, his neck, his throat, before your gaze reaches his eyes again.

“You’re really pretty, Eddie. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Uhh, nope. No, they haven’t. But from you, I believe it.”

From The Biology Tutor: Lesson Three

E

Eddie wouldn’t choose to come to an event like this, but the money on offer was too good to pass up. The theme is Glitz and Glamour, the assistant who booked him insisting he went all out, a dangerous thing to say to someone as dramatic as Eddie. But, if he’s honest, the opportunity to get super theatrical with his performance was actually really appealing.

As part of the deal, a makeup company has given him a load of free stuff in return for promoting the brand. Way more than he’d use for a single event, and in far too many shades, but, again, he’s not complaining. Free glitter is free glitter.

From Stevie White & The Seven Nerds [working title], WIP for the @strangertales2025 fairy tale event (don’t hold your breath - we have an entire year to write these 😜)

R

Reclining against your headboard and clutching your coffee, you recall how he’d looked as he glanced out of your bedroom window the morning he was due to leave. How he’d peered through the thin blinds and the sunlight had caught his features perfectly and illuminated the ochre of his eyes. He’d looked distant, pensive.

From an untitled WIP about JQ’s unnamed Warfare character, because I can’t find anything else in my WIPs that begins with R 😄. I wrote a blurb after getting this ask about him and people asked for more, but I don’t know if I’ll ever finish or publish this because of the divisive subject matter. I’m absolutely not pro-war (and I have little knowledge or interest in the military as a subject group), but I’m concerned that publishing it will imply that I am. So, for now, a WIP it will stay. Perhaps I’ll revisit it once I’ve seen the movie.

Anyone can join in with this, but I’m tagging @the-unforgivenn @mediocredreams @rebelfell @storiesbyrhi @jamdoughnutmagician @munson-blurbs @joejoequinnquinn @katethetank because you know I’ll go feral for any tiny smidgens you give me (single sentences are allowed) 😉 Your word is HOLIER

Also tagging @airen256 and @80s-addict in case you want to have a gander 🥰

[memoiich]

꧁ℛℯ𝒹 𝓋ℯ𝓁𝓋ℯ𝓉 ꧂

Summary ❥you are on a mission with your best friend and his master to mandelore since there has been a assassination plot against the dutchess Satine . On a gala ball you find yourself talking with a stranger that will give you a night to remember

Wc ❥ 7k

Tw ❥fluff to smut with a lil angst here and there

“Do you like it?” Satine asked, looking at you hopefully. You looked at yourself in the giant golden mirror in front of you. It was about the hundred dress you had worn today, you could still see the fabric corpses all over the room behind you. ''It never fitted me right. The neckline didn't really work for me,” Satine informed you “but on you, it’s stunning.” you looked at her face in the mirror and she did indeed look flabbergasted “I don’t know Satine, isn’t the dress a bit too tight. I'm a Jedi you know!” Satine looked at you knowingly “Come on, being a jedi doesn't mean you have to look like my mother.” She walked back into her ensuite closet, “Plus Obi-Wan and master Qui Gon Jinn are both wearing formal apparel, so you will stand out in your jedi robes and you know it.” She strutted up to you holding a golden necklace with a blood red droplet hanging from it. “Some people might also be uncomfortable with the Jedi being there. Some might see it as a statement” she hung the necklace over your shoulders.“I just don't know about all these things.” You gestured to all the riches around you. Satine rolled her eyes and clasped the necklace around your neck.”I'm going to get dressed now myself. When I get back, I want to see the confident young woman that I know.” She walked back to her walking closet as handmaid's rushed in to help the dutchess.

Leaving you alone with your thoughts. The dress in question was a long red velvet gown with a deep v-line that showed off a fair bit of skin, the gown was held together in the back by 2 thin golden chains leaving your back bare entirely. There was a slit that ran up your leg until mid thigh.The blood droplet was sitting right in the middle of your chest and you couldn’t deny that you looked the best you ever had (probably). Your padawan braid was held up by a golden clip that Satine had put in ages ago. Your lightsaber tucked away in its holster on your hip. You didn’t look like a jedi anymore and you didn’t know how to feel about that .

Satine flowed back over to you, her light blue gown making her look royal yet graceful at the same time. “I am excited to see what my handmaidens did with them.” She referred to the two men, seeing as said handmaids weren’t with her anymore you couldn’t help but quip, “I know Obi-Wan is excited to see you again.” Satine flushed a bit but collected herself quickly “We cannot let them wait up any longer” she said and scurried out making you catch up to her.

Qui Gon Jinn and Obi wan were indeed dressed in suits. Qui Gon in browns and greens meanwhile Obi Wan wore a white and light green suit. But you noticed something, a little light blue pocket square peaking out. You tried to catch satine’s eye but were unsuccessful.what you did see, was a green and gold bracelet that looked brand new as in “5 weeks” new. But they weren’t a couple of course not…

Satine walked in front of the tree of you towards the main ballroom. Obi wan was staring at her with that love sick look on his face. You poked his side ,making him look at you instead “If you want to be set out of the jedi order, I would definitely continue.“ you whispered at him mischievously. Obi Wan glanced over towards Qui gon whispering back “Do you think he noticed?” “I don't know, he's your master” he let out a sigh. You tugged at your dress, since it had crunched up a little on the sides. “Do you think she likes me?” Obi Wan asked, embarrassed.

Before you could answer his question, trumpets ran out. “The duchess of mandalore, Satine Kryze” and immediately the ball began. Satine was rushed away by some of her council to attend to more political matters leaving the three of you alone .Qui Gon laid a hand on both of yours and Obi Wan's shoulder, “I will be over there” he pointed towards a few men near the front of the hall,who were waving at him . “You two will spread out over the ball and keep an eye out for suspicious activity” he walked off only to turn around again “And don’t forget to have some fun.” he finished with a wink. Turning around and vanishing into the sea of people.

“I'm going to presume you’re taken that side” you said while pointing towards Satines general direction. Obi Wan rolled his eyes, “I will take that side since it's my job to protect the duchess” you let out a laugh. “Whatever makes you sleep at night, bud” you giggled. “I'm going to be over there, before the good stuff gets taken” Obi Wan followed your gaze to the grazing table at the other side of the dance hall. You heard his laugh as you walked off.

Navigating through the landscape of the dancers wasn’t easy or comfortable, you felt a few sets of eyes on you from the moment you walked in but that was expected since you looked jaw dropping in red velvet. You felt a tap on your shoulder, leading you to turn around quickly. A man with slick blond hair was now standing in front of you. “A woman as beautiful as you should have a dance partner” he spoke with arrogance only a dimwit could hold.“I'm presuming you have a name?”you snarled back.The man laughed obnoxiously, “of course I have, Sweetheart, Pre Vizsla is my name” you rolled your eyes. You were missing your Jedi robes greatly, they kept the scum of man away from you while keeping you warm. Both of these things weren’t met by the red garment you had on . Then you felt his hand on your side, and with Jedi's reflex, you slapped his hand away, making him groan in pain. “I'm not interested in this dance and in you as a partner.I would appreciate it if you left me alone.”You held your head high. If looks could kill, Vizsla would have died right there. But unfortunately, he took the smart option and backed away, grumbling to himself.

Traveling further through the constantly shifting terrain,you finally got to the grazing table and to your surprise and enjoyment they had your favorite, red velvet, the superior cake in the universe. Sadly they were placed on the other side of the table and instead of walking around to get them you decided to place a hand on the middle of the table and lean over to get one. “You don’t need to try so hard,“ A man's voice rang out. You saw red once again, this spineless man couldn’t catch a hint if it hit him in the head.”If you don’t back off right now, I will punch you.”

you looked over to who you had presumed to be pre Vizsla. Only to be met with a red zebrak instead, who didn’t look impressed. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else “you stammered out embarrassed,to your surprise the guy laughed at that “i don't know what to say, a jedi with anger issues“. You wondered for a moment how he knew you were a jedi but while reaching for the cakes the slit in your dress had been opened a bit more, revealing your dangling lightsaber on your hip. “I don’t have anger issues,I just hate spineless men” The man was still smirking like a loth-cat.You couldn't lie that he was intriguing.

“If I ask you for your name would you give it to me?” you asked the horned creature. “Why should I?" He said while picking up a fruit fork “Could you hand me that bowl?” He twirled the fork towards a giant bowl full of varos to your left. You took the fruit fork out of his hand, which startled him a little. You picked what you thought was the second best piece and handed it back to him “My gratitude knows no bonds” he said sarcastically “well if that is so,then tell me your name” you asked back and took the best piece of varos for yourself. “Maul” he stated casually. You repeated his name and bit the fruit.

You had never tasted it yourself but it was one of Qui Gon’s favorites, you didn’t expect it to be so juicy . It was dripping down your chin when Maul started talking” you never ate varos before have you?” He gave you a napkin out of one of his pockets “is it that clear?” you asked while drying your chin with the black cloth. Maul laughed at that. “most people that do eat veros often,don't just bite into it”he picked up a glass while still holding the fruit in his left hand and then hit the glass with his fork. You watched as the juice leaped into the glass only leaving the meat on the fork . Maul handed you the glass”you like the liquid right?”you took the glass and sipped it while nodding your head.”If you let the meat age, you can get a liquor called Tihaar” “does it taste good, the liquor?” Maul looked at you and shook his shoulders “I wouldn’t know, I don’t drink” he pierced the fruit with his teeth and looked strangely peaceful.

“My friend and I go drinking sometimes, nothing crazy” Maul looked at you sideways “ jedi that drinks?” He says mockingly “like I said nothing special just some Ardees with friends” the horned man laughed.

He laid his hand on your hip and moved you to the side, to your own surprise, you weren’t disgusted by it. Maul reached over the table laying his hand on the table like you had done before.He picked up one of the small velvet cakes on the platter and handed it to you. ”Enjoy the dessert.” and then he stopped his sentence”you didn’t give me your name “ he said astonished. A grin crept on your face “you didn’t ask” you giggled “It’s y/n”.

The zebrak was about to reply when your hologram beeped.”I’m sorry, I have to pick this up.” You started moving to a more lonesome spot, since protocol called for security. When you looked back at Maul, he was grinning once more “I will save this one for later” he yelled at you “I will take you up on that” you called back smiling.

The hologram ringed for the second time, you rushed over to the side of the hall. You were now completely alone,leaning against a column. Opening up the little device, Master Qui Gon popped up “Hello my other padawan “ he called you that a lot. “ I wanted to inform you that you don’t have to work anymore” he said with a big smile on his face “obi wan went to bed already so i would suggest the same for you” “you know im not 10 anymore right? Qui Gon” the jedi master laughed at that “i know but you can still make smart decisions'' you let out a sigh “fine then i stay up for a little longer ”you informed him “wait you ca-“ “bye qui gon” . You hung up.

You didn’t need to think long before you knew what you wanted to do. Take that horned man up on his offer. You walked back over to the grazing table while your mind was going a mile a minute, did you like this man? Was that even allowed? Maybe you were just attracted to him or simply bored? What were you even going to talk about? Would he be happy to see you? Why did you care that he cared? Your thoughts were stopped when you got to said grazing table. Maul wasn't there. You looked around but his horns weren’t anywhere insight.

You deflated on the spot but jedi could adapt. You would simply grab a small cake and find Satine, talk to her for about an hour or 2 (maybe about the hot dude you had met) and then go to bed. Normal jedi things. Sadly the plans fell apart once again when there was no red velvet left. And after an hour of searching for Satine, you finally asked one of her handmaid's who politely told you that the duchess had gone to sleep. Guess it was time to be smart and follow your friend's example and go to bed.

If you were a charhound your tail would have been dragging between your legs as you made your way to obi wans and yours shared bedroom. It was rather common for you two to share a room ,being more like siblings than anything else, Qui Qon was never worried about it. Your master, master Windu, was less open to sleepovers. Maker, if he knew a random man was on your mind right now. You would have been dead.

It was near the middle of the hall that you started hearing strange sounds coming from the end of it. Your room was located at that end, the odd noise only became louder and louder the further you went. It didn’t help that you were alone either. When you got to your door, it was unbearable, you had never heard anything like it. You wrote it off as being tired.

But then you opened the door. You closed it just as quickly, not only were Satine and Obi Wan not asleep, they were together in your shared room. “Obi wan I swear, I will kill you “ you yelled out in shock leaning back against the now luckily closed door. When you had entered that hell room, you were greeted with obi wan's duvet flying to cover Satine while Obi Wan covered himself with his robe. You were traumatized.

“I'm so sorry y/n I didn’t think you were going to be here” he yelled back embarrassed “Why wouldn’t I be back. IT'S MY ROOM” you snapped back enraged. “Why didn’t you go to Satine’s bed ?” You asked annoyed. There was a bit of a silence but then Satine squeaked up “I-i have guards near my door…” You were completely over it right now and the only way of getting out of this awful conversation was to just leave.``Look I don’t want to sleep anywhere near that bed so I will get a hotel or something.” You felt a bit guilty for ruining their evening letting out a sigh “We never speak of this again and I just leave okay?” "Okay," Obi Wan and Satine said back in unison.

As you stepped away from the door, the handle of the door broke one of the thin golden chains on your back.The entire sides were now open exposing sideboob on both sides. Being uncomfortable and indecent, you didn’t go back to the ball.

Sitting on the stairs near the entrance of the feast. You started crying ,it had been a while since you did so but it felt somewhat right. You couldn’t sleep in your own bed nor could you go back to the party. Your beautiful dress was broken, you didn’t have your jedi robes and you hadn’t thought of asking to get them from obi wan. You were cold, alone and tired.

tired of your own emotions. Sadness was bad alone being a jedi but there was another feeling floating around. Envy, pure envy. Nothing could have prepared you for it, you were envious of Obi Wan. He got everything you wanted. The jedi master that let him express himself, your room, a lover and now to top it all off,something you would probably never experience.

while you were wallowing on these things, you didn’t notice the footsteps approaching or the man sitting next to you. You only noticed when a single slightly melted red velvet cupcake showed up before your eyes. “A crying jedi” he opened, making you glance at him. Maybe it was the gesture or the way he spoke but you almost started laughing. You took the dessert from Maul while taking a closer look at him.

In the 2 moons light, Maul sat peacefully.leaning back on his arms, stretching. His black blue-ish robes draped loosely as he moved a bit to the left. Showing you his red heavily tattooed chest beneath it. You wonder if he was tattooed all over or if they stopped at his waistline. Taking the first bite, Maul started to stare at you.

“I did save one for you” you swallowed your bite “Did you have one yourself?” You asked, considering it was probably the best thing you had eaten on your stay in mandalore. Before he could answer, you broke half of it off and handed it toward him. He didn’t take it immediately, so you started swinging your hand a bit as if to bait a stray cat. The zebrak glared at you. “I did not hold that thing for 2 hours just for you to waste half of it.”Your eyes squinted with confusion, “Sharing with you isn't a waste to me, Maul”. You don’t know if you were imagining it but the red skin on his cheeks seemed to color a deep crimson.

He took the red velvet out of your outstretched hand and placed it in his mouth as if he had never tasted cake in his life .He chewed it for a little while and looked at you curiously “ why is this your favorite? It tastes terribly sweet.” You laughed at that. “ one of the only dishes I remember my mother made, making it the only dish worth making. “Maul grinned again “A nostalgic jedi” he said half mockery. “Only for that” you let out.

You were about to elaborate, having no clue why. But the clock tower's bell rang out, making the nevvaro’s fly away from the very top. “How late is it?” You quipped up in stress, knowing that you had no place to go. “A midnight bell, I wonder when that rings” he said mischievously, tapping his chin to make you look as stupid as possible. You let out a sigh “well, you would be worried if you didn’t have a place to sleep tonight.” You looked remorsefully through the list of hotels and inns on your hologram. “Are they all closed?” Maul asked in a new way of sympathy, you had not expected. You nodded to him.

“You could come back to my place” your head snapped up towards him “I would sleep on the couch you can get the bed” he quickly added holding his hands up while making what you assumed to be his attempt at an innocent face. Going home with a random guy wasn't a smart move but he had been kind and you were a jedi. You stood up from the stairs , making the dress you were wearing fall back into its broken state. Your hands flew up immediately to make sure you weren’t completely nude on top of the streets of mandalore . You heard a slight ‘swush’ from behind you and turned your head, Maul has stripped of his outer robe. Before you knew, the black robe was draped over your shoulders. And Maul was standing next to you once again. “You looked ….cold” was all he said as he started walking to where he stayed.

Traveling through the underbelly of the blue planet was completely different to you. Being in the jedi order, you were used to the kind of character that lived in the lower levels of planets but now walking between them was oddly comforting. Workers were talking about their lives and plans for the future,eating street vendor food from the many stalls that lined the crosswalk, couples were out on dates and in the middle of it all was you stepping behind the red zebrak who parted the sea of people. He didn’t look back at you, blindly trusting that you would follow.

You didn’t notice exactly when you entered the road you were on now but it was interesting. Small store fronts were on either side of you with bright red lights that shone through their massive windows. Barely covered people from all species were dancing illuminated by the red lights. It took your breath away how flawlessly they moved, how careless they acted in their glass cages. You were staring much like the men that stopped in place. Blush covering their drunken faces, lust in their eyes. Is that what you wanted? To be desired by all?To perform for the entire street?

No, you didn't, the only man that intrigued you was him ahead of you. The red theelin in front of you winked signaling your time to go. You blew her a kiss and started walking back to Maul. You finally reached him when he took another corner. Not noticing the loosened cobblestone that the zebrak had effortlessly dodged, you tripped. Luckily for you, Maul did turn around to catch you. Grabbing the back of ‘your’ robe to stop your fall, he pulled you up and gave you what you would call his signature grin. “We’re here” he purred smoothly.

You looked over his shoulder to see a sleazy looking hotel with a neon red sign “Red Velvet”. A love hotel, you gave Maul a questionable look. “They’re a couple credits cheaper” was all he said. You gave the zebrak a little shove and straightened up in hopes of collecting yourself. You found your footing again “o do you do this often? Picking up women, bringing them back to the local love hotel?” You wiggled your eyebrows. Maul pinched his forehead “No, I don't." He sighed out “It's cheap” he dropped his hand and started walking towards the doors.

The hall you ended up in was a strange mix of red and gold. The front desk was situated in the middle in front of the elevator, who clearly had seen better times. The front desk itself had 2 plant pots on either side filled with a massive yellow red flower you couldn’t identify. The creature managing the desk was turned the other way.

Maul linked up his arm with yours while stepping closer to them. He tapped his nails against the desktop making them turn around “Evening” Maul greeted the creature. Her eyes shot up to his face, widening a bit in shock “Mr.Oppr-lord Oppress” she quickly corrected.”I would like 2 room keys.” She scattered through a drawer and came back up with 2 sets “or you, my lord.” She wasn’t making eye contact “Thank you” Maul said as he started walking away.

while stepping into the elevator, you started to think. Lord, why would they call him that? He was a zebrak from Dathomir. The nightbrothers were subservient towards the nightsisters meaning in no way could Maul be a lord of Dathomir. A lord would also never have to care for a few credits, they wouldn’t book a love hotel to save a coin. You didn’t know much about him now that you thought about it. You thought of a plan.

You arrived on the second floor and he led you to the door of his place. As soon as the door opens you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Master Windu might be a bit of a stick in the mud but he did teach you well.

One of the perks of being the purple lightsaber wielder’s apprentice was that he was pretty well acquainted with the dark side of the force. He had never used it himself but he thought it would be best to teach you how to recognize one and some ways to kill them. That last part isn't useful for now at least.

You started to fiddle around in the black robes you were wearing looking for the little Phrik ring. Phrik rings were used by sith to hang their lightsaber on their cloaks, some really rich sith lords used Phrik to make lightsaber since it was extremely force sensitive and lightsaber resistant. Your master used one himself, you went with the more popular clip-on method like your friend and his master because Phrik was mostly mined illegally by the slaves of Tatooine or Gromas.

You finally found the purple ring beneath the second fold on your left. Bending it with the force you unclipped it from the fabric loop that held it in place. Just like your master’s, it had a message engraved on the side. Different from your master, it was written in Ur-Kittât. It had been a while since you last tried to read the ancient sith language. When you were 5 years into your padawan life Master Windu had left you in the library with 2 books, he hadn’t let you out until 10 days later when you could explain both in detail. It took a minute or 10 before you figured it out.

“Anger is your weapon wield it my apprentice”

Yup that's a sith alright. The first man you found appealing was a sith lord, great job. You debated what to do next but decided to go with the confrontational method instead. You had your lightsaber with you and he wouldn’t expect it. But first, you would talk to him testing if there was something to salvage. You opened the bathroom door, Phirk ring in hand.

Walking into the living room, you were greeted with a peculiar sight. Maul stood in the middle of the kitchen looking through a fruit basket you hadn’t noticed. In his left hand he held a red fruit vine that coloured slightly white on the tips. In his other hand he clasped paper of some sort. He looked up at you with a lazy smile, making the confrontation you were about to have so much harder.

The cling that hit the counter was enough to set Maul off. His face fell as you heard a ‘zoof’. Jedi instincts kicked in quickly, you pulled your own lightsaber up behind you. The blades clashed behind your back mid air. Before Maul could regain his saber from the ground it fell upon, you grabbed the hilt and pushed two of the buttons gliding the blades back into place. The red Zebrak tried to get it out of your grip by use of the force but you held on tightly. He turned around and snatched up a kitchen knife.

You held up his saber “I'm not going to kill you” you let out quickly. “I mean I should really.” The tattooed zebrak lowered the knife slightly but his grip tightened. “I’m a jedi which means I don’t attack” Maul scoffed at that. “You didn’t attack me and for that I won’t kill you.” If this was the biggest mistake of your life so be it, you would not kill a man that spared you. You dropped his saber and clipped your own back in place.

You started walking towards the door when you felt the force pull you back. Maul was now standing before you, scowling. “I do not need your pity” he snarled at you. “You are at my mercy.” You frowned at him “Did you really think you could walk out?” the zebrak clicked his tongue “foolish jedi.” You saw red. “Are you too ignorant to understand that I'm saving you?” You took a step to the side, brushing shoulders with Maul “I don’t need saving from you” he spit back “I don’t want you to go is that so hard to understand, Hyal” you looked at him with disbelief “How dare you use Ur-kittât on me? I-” He interrupted you “do you know what it means?” You let out a sign “No, could you repeat it?” Maul rolled his eyes ”I could but I won't” .

“Why not? I can understand you know” You were playing with the Phirk ring on the counter. Maul followed your gaze to the ring “Hyal” he stated. You looked up at him to see him slightly redder than normal. “To crave?” You questioned back. He nodded clearly embarrassed. Stepping closer to him you interrogated “Do you crave me, Maul?” He grumbled in response. You peered at his face . A new found confidence streamed through your blood in wait for an audible response. “Nuyak ari” you prodded him once more. He averted his eyes . You opened your mouth to continue your assault but before you could, maul flipped you around against the counter.

He pinned you against it while running his hand to your mid back,making the counter dig into your but. Pushing the coat to the side making his nails scrape softly against your skin. He looked back up at you, pupils blown wide “ do Hyal” you caught his gaze and held it. “then do so Tsis “ but then he halted. A sweltering anger spiked up near your spine, this discourteous man dared to ignite a fire and then flee when it burned.

You pulled the coat off your shoulders and dropped it to the floor, the broken dress falling down to your middle where the last chain held it up. Maul's eyes quickly fell to your chest, his fingertips started to move upwards but when they were near your breast he moved past them. The zebraks' hands snatched the red droplet between your bust and yanked it causing your lips to crash into his. You were slightly taken aback but you quickly leaned in hungry for the tattooed man in front of you.

A high paced dance was set in silence. Maul started to push you up further on the counter, when you heard the golden necklace break off but you couldn’t care less. He quickly moved his hands from the broken chain to the back of your neck. His lips were rough yet new, clearly never been kissed before, you wondered if he thought the same. A whimper echoed when you felt his sharp teeth bite down on your plump bottom lip. Blood started to stream from the cut he had inflicted.

Your hands gripped on the back of his underrobe, Maul tensed up beneath you as you finally got him half naked. To your joy his tattoos ran down his torso swirling in beautiful patterns all over. But before you could undress him further, maul pulled your hair back and started lapping up the stream of red down your throat. He let go of your hair when he got to your breast biting into your flesh to kiss and suck it straight after, leaving a trail of purple blemishes covering your chest.

Lost in pleasure Maul had let his hands cup your boobs, unpinning you in the process. You pushed his head slightly down, leaving his neck close enough to kiss. A careful peck made him groan beneath you but then you bit him. He flinched up glaring at you, you glanced back faking innocence “I thought biting was on the table” you brought your own fingers up to the purple cut near your nipple. He gave you a grin turning his head to the site showing off the bite mark that had already turned a deep purple showing slightly through his faded black tattoos.You pulled him back to kiss him.

When he shoved you back gently and flipped you over, bending you over the counter. You looked back over your shoulder to see maul clasp the last chain in his hand yanking it strong enough to break it. You yearn for him deeply but the roughness made you shudder. He wrapped his fingers around the red velvet and ripped it down, leaving you naked to his eye. He brought his hand up to grope your ass which you admittedly leaned into but when you heard him strip down you had to speak up. “You are not fucking me against a counter.” you could hear the grin in his voice when he taunted “I wouldn’t dare to”.

You started to move to stand up when Maul pressed his hand down on your back in response you arched your back making the zebrak breathlessly groan. Do you crave me, Nuyak Hyal?“ he mockingly grunted. You were getting more needy by the minute, resorting to trying to grind against the tattooed man behind you. When he felt a sharp smack against your rear and before you could react to that maul had lifted you up and thrown you over his shoulders. “I'm not going to fuck you against a counter.” he said grinning like a loth cat. You let yourself fall over his shoulder and started to kiss up his back, following the beautiful black paths of ink. You sucked purple marks into his red skin but it didn’t last.

Maul slammed you down against the bed. Laying on top of the velvet sheets, you fixed your gaze back to the brute. This time he held it, unstrapping the belt that held the rest of his clothes. You crawled over to the front of the bed and laid your hand over his, stopping him dead in his tracks. You shuffled up to your knees, “let me” was all you breathed out. He pulled his hands back and let you strip him down.

The tent in his undergarments had not gone unnoticed by you since the countertop but still when you saw the thing it took you a minute to collect yourself. The hesitation must have been pretty obvious since Maul spoke up. “You don’t have to” he tilted your head upwards to look at him. “I could please you instead”. As much as that intrigued you, you replied quickly in hopes of shushing his doubts. “No no , I want to.” You glanced through your lashes to see the zebrak smirk.

You took a moment to collect yourself, placing your hands on each side of his legs. You slowly touched your lips to the tip.The muscles beneath your finger tensed to the sensation. The taste was unexpected but not unpleasant. You had the thought to wipe your lips with the back of your hand but instead you licked them. You made eye contact with Maul as you took him into your mouth. Through your lashes you could see him roll his eyes back while letting out a low groan.

You sucked him as deep as you could without gagging, which was about halfway. You adjusted your left hand to lean more into him. You moved your head forwards in one smooth move. Maul reached down to grab ahold of the back of your head as you started bobbing it sloppily along the length of his cock. He started to push and pull you a bit, “Can i?” He growled out. You nodded your head not wanting to stop, making maul’s grip tighten. He pulled you off by the hair, making you yelp “Greedy jedi, use your damn words.” he bit out “yes, yes you may Maul” you whimpered back .

His hands in your hair set a brutal pace, making you feel light headed. His hips started moving in the opposite directions of his hands, letting your hands roam upwards. You noticed your own pleasure build between your thighs as heat settled there. Your nails dug into his abdomen, creating horizontal white lines across his black lined skin. His groaning started to get more desperate and loud when your teeth dragged across his length. You felt his dick twitch in your mouth, making you rub your thighs together in hopes of quilling the fire he had ignited.

He brought his hand up to your chin and stopped it in its tracks “Stop” was all he stated out of breath. You did as he asked, letting go of his cock with a pop. He wiped your lips with his fingers and moved the hair that had fallen forward back to its original place. He crouched down, the both of you now on the same eye level as he kissed you with a growing hunger that no cake could fill. You started to move further up the bed. Maul followed as if he was predator hunting prey.

He pulled back from your lips only to smirk down at you. He spread your legs positioning himself between them. He darted his hand towards your cunt, you quickly tried to shut your thighs out of reflex. Your heartbeat sped up as if you were being chased but the look in his eyes betrayed him. As ruthless as he had hoped to seem so needy he looked, staring at you almost disheveling at the mere thought of stopping right now. Luckily for him, you felt the same.

You opened your legs, letting a carnal desire take over. A nod was all Maul needed before his fingers were stroking against your folds. Whining filled the air while the brute toyed with your cunt, making your head feel dizzy. Your hand reached for his shoulder, aching for more. The zebrak quickly answered by pulling his hands back, you moaned at the loss of him. Shame had fled the scene long ago, you wrapped both of your legs around his well toned hips, leaving only lust between you.

For the first time In the entire history of the both of you, he said your name. You don't know if it was the way he said it or the accompanying thrust of his hips that had you moaning his but it did matter. He started up slow and careful, keeping long lecherous eye contact. Your walls clenched around him. Groans and hisses fell out of his mouth not unlike the song sung for goddesses and gods alike. Between gasping for air, your hunger grew again.

You grind your hips up into mauls, he let out a low stuttering moan. He sped up immediately after, pumping into you at a pace you thought impossible. No inch of skin was untouched, no nerve forgotten. He was hitting all the right spots “faster please maul faster” you screamed breathlessly. Heat spreads from your cunt to your entire body, flushing your skin. You grabbed the velveteen sheets in fist, letting the sound of pleasure swirl in the air.

Rapped movements have brought the both of you closer to the edge than both expected. Shuttered beneath him you tried to make your coming orgasmas clear as possible. He moved his lips to your neck, biting down in revenge for earlier that night. Your walls clenched around his cock. You came. Maul fucked you through it, chasing his own. He came deep inside you, staying still for just a few seconds. If this was heaven, you did not fear death.

Maul pulled out. Still holding on to you as if you would vanish. He kissed your temple softly. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered softly. He crawled off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

You waited for him to come back, looking to the doorway expectantly. He stepped out of the bathroom backed by the glow of the bathroom light, it made him look holy. Out of all the men you had met, he was the exception. The passion you had felt minutes ago had simmered to something deeper. It mattered not if he felt the same right now. Since the night was enough to sedate the crave for him you had felt. But it did not still the love that had grown, how you hoped he felt the same.

He cleaned up the mess he made carefully, kissing along the purple and blue spots covering your torso, caressing the soft skin he had mained, making sure you were comfortable and clean. Then he laid down next to you on the plush mattress. All of it, he did in silence.

Maul pulled you back to his chest, you curled up into his warm body. You rolled over to look at him. For the first time since you knew him, he looked satisfied with the world as if the fire that had burned him plenty,warmed him now. You thanked the stars above for the man near you, he closed his eyes.“Are you pleased, Hyal?” He said not loud enough to pierce the calmness. “As Long as you linger till morning” you answered happily. He smiled and pulled the bed sheets up. “ you’re staying here tonight” he stated without question. you let out a giggle as you let your head drop to his chest, the double heartbeat lulling you to sleep.“Till sunrise, when i leave” you whispered sleepily. He sighed.

The golden rays shone through the white blinds you hadn’t noticed when you woke up. The zebrak was still deep asleep in what you presumed to be the first good night sleep in a long time. Sadly you had to get back to Qui Gon and your headache of a friend. You carefully got out of the velvet bed and started looking for your clothes.

You found the red dress near the kitchen counter with 4 golden chains instead of the 2 working ones. Knowing you couldn’t wear the beautiful piece anymore, you had to wake up Maul. You slowly made your way to his side, kissing his forehead to wake him up. He responded with a crumble. “My dress is broken. Can I wear your robes?” He shot up straight, taking in your naked frame “You’re leaving?” He questioned remorse. You nodded “Fine. I have another set in that bag.” he lazily pointed towards a duffel bag on the floor. You kissed him again before rushing through it. He curled back into the sheets.

The robes were comfortable and covered the markings the zebrak had left, you opened the door to leave when you heard Maul again. “Fleeing Jedi, will I see you again?” He query you. You looked back to the sith in the morning sun, he gave a signature grin as you had seen plenty of. “If the force wants it.” you countered back smiling. You both knew there was no escaping the fire.

Its my first time writing smut so i hope its somewhat decent anyways i hope you enjoy

!!MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN <3 !!!

Masterlist

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page

Come Back to Me  Chapter 12 

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU 

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son. 

Turning the Page Series Masterlist My Complete Masterlist 

Main pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks 

AAll characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who both belong to this series. 

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match. 

Rating: M 🔞 - Warnings – Series will contain crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors. 

Words: 3331 

Come Back to Me, Chapter 12 

Chapter Summary: As Liam and Riley’s visit continues in Lythikos, they are joined by guests from the Capital. 

Music & Title Inspiration: Come Back to Me, David Cook 

A/N1: A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.  

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’) 

‘...and when you see what you need to see 

When you find you 

Come back to me 

...and I hope you find everything that you need 

I’ll be right here waiting to see 

You find you 

Come back to me...’ 

Lythikos, Cordonia 

Liam and Olivia sat together in the cozy sitting room of Nevrakis Chateau, their hands wrapped around steaming cups of dark roast Cordonian coffee. Through the large bow windows, they could see gentle flakes of snow falling from the sky, blanketing the landscape in a soft, pristine white. 

The room was adorned with rich, dark wood furnishings, plush sofas and armchairs arranged around a crackling fireplace that emitted a warm glow. Paintings depicting scenic landscapes, adding to the ambiance of comfort and luxury tastefully decorated the walls.

Mischa and Zeus, Olivia’s malamutes, were vigilantly sitting at their mistresses’ feet as she and Liam conversed in hushed tones, their voices blending harmoniously with the peaceful surroundings. Occasionally, the king and duchess would pause to gaze out at the snowfall, admiring the beauty of nature's quiet spectacle as they awaited the arrival of their guests in the early morning.

"I appreciate you taking the time to spend with Riley." Liam smiled warmly; his cup of coffee half raised. 

"Of course, Li ... after every obstacle she has had to overcome since arriving in Cordonia for your social season, she deserves validation of her worth.” 

"She is struggling, trying to find her place here again.” Liam shook his head, the guilt once again overwhelming him. 

"She'll find it.” Olivia observed her friend closely. Olivia sighed and put her cup down. 

"Liam, I'm going to tell you something.” 

"Okay.” Liam lifted his gaze from his hands in response with hesitation. 

"I've never been good at saying these kinds of things, so I'll make this quick.” 

"Go on, Liv.” 

"You are my best friend, and I care about you. And I know that Riley is the woman for you. I've known that for some time now.” Olivia exhaled deeply. “Even though ...” Olivia twisted her fingers in her lap. “Even though, I wish it were me that you chose.” 

Liam listened attentively to Olivia's words, his expression a mix of understanding and empathy. He reached out and gently placed his hand over hers, offering a reassuring squeeze. 

"I value our friendship more than words can express, Olivia," Liam spoke with sincerity. "You've been by my side through thick and thin, and I cherish every moment we've shared." 

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "As for Riley, she's an extraordinary woman, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have her back in my life. Our connection is deep and meaningful, and I believe she's the one I want to build a future with." 

Liam's gaze softened as he spoke. "I understand your feelings, Olivia. You have always been a constant source of support and understanding for me, and I value that more than you know. I hope that you will always remember how much you mean to me, regardless of who I'm with romantically." 

Olivia nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "I do know, Liam. And I'm genuinely happy for you and Riley. You both deserve all the happiness in the world." 

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of barking. The guests had arrived, and Liam and Olivia exchanged a knowing look, their unspoken bond of friendship and mutual respect stronger than ever after their confessions.

"Thank you again, Olivia.” Liam said as he stood to greet the guests. 

"And if anyone tries to get between the two of you, I'll be right there by your side.” Olivia smirked. 

"That's good to know, Liv.” Liam chuckled. 

“By the way, have you heard from your ex-wife?” 

Liam's expression changed, the lines around his eyes deepened, and his jaw tightened. 

"Not a word.” 

"You know I can personally locate her, right?” 

"I have no doubt, but it's not necessary. I have assigned Damien to personally lead an intel team to track her.” 

"Okay, but ....” 

"She's not going to come between Riley and me.” 

"Good. Because if she does, I will personally handle her.” 

"You know, I have a feeling you're enjoying this more than you should." 

"Perhaps.” 

Liam chuckled as he turned to watch Riley with Willam walk hand in hand down the grand staircase. 

"Good morning, love." Liam smiled as he bent down to kiss her cheek and reached down to scoop William in his arms.

"There she is...there is my little blossom!" Maxwell cried, running towards Riley engulfing her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. Bertrand, Savannah and Bartie followed greeting Liam and Olivia.

"It's good to see you too, Max. You look well." Riley laughed as he spun her around in the air. 

"I'm not letting go until you promise to never leave me again." 

"Alright, alright, put me down!" Riley giggled, feeling the warmth and affection of her Cordonian best friend. “What are you guys doing here?” 

“We came to say hello, silly.” Maxwell winked, as Bertrand walked up to Riley to place a kiss on her cheek. 

William tugged on Liam’s pants, "Who's that?" William gestured towards the little boy holding his mother’s hand. 

"That's Bartie, buddy. He is Maxwell’s little nephew." 

"Hi." William beamed as he waved to Bartie. Damien stepped forward in anticipation to follow the crown prince. 

“Hi.” Bartie returned the greeting with a smile. 

“Lady Riley, you look well.” Bertrand stood beside Savannah and Bartie. 

“It's so good to see you both!” Riley moved up to hug Savannah and accept a kiss on the cheek from Bertrand. 

"Bertrand, it's so good to see you." 

"Likewise, Lady Riley. You are a welcome sight." 

"Aww, thanks, Bertrand." 

"And this must be William.” 

Bertrand bowed to the crown prince. 

"Yes. William, this is your uncle Bertrand.” 

"Hello, William.” 

"Hewwo." William shyly greeted him, hiding behind Riley's leg. 

"Oh, my. This is awkward. I'm not very good with children." Bertrand said nervously. 

"It's okay, Bertrand. Just be yourself.” Savannah gently pushed him forward 

"Very well. I, ....um, brought you a gift." 

Bertrand held out a small box. 

"Aww, thank you, Bertrand. That is not necessary."  Riley answered.

"Of course, it is. It is only proper etiquette. William is the crown prince of Cordonia." Riley grinned, shaking her head. “I stand corrected.” 

*** 

Under the gently falling snowflakes outside Nevrakis Chateau, William and Bartie ran through the snow-covered gardens, their laughter echoing in the crisp air. Maxwell’s cheeks were rosy from the cold, and his eyes sparkled with childlike delight as he tried to catch snowflakes on his tongue, trying to impress his nephew. 

Liam, scooping up snow to build a snowman with William, laughed heartily as he watched his son splayed on the ground creating a snow angel. His normally composed demeanor gave way to playful enthusiasm as he encouraged William's creative ideas for their snowy adventures. 

Riley, with Savannah stood by with a smile, capturing the joyful moments with her phone. Her eyes glowed with happiness as she watched Liam and William further bond over the simple pleasure of playing in the snow. 

Their guests, a mix of friends and family, joined in the snow-filled festivities. Laughter and good-natured banter filled the air as everyone engaged in snowball fights, built snow forts, and created snow angels together. 

As the day progressed, everyone gathered around a crackling fire inside the chateau, sipping hot cocoa and sharing stories. The warmth of the fire contrasted with the cold beauty of the snowscape outside, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere. 

***

....later in the evening...

Surrounded by snow-peaked mountains, ensconced in romantic candlelight, Liam grasped Riley’s hand and led her to submerge down into the thermal waters of the outdoor hot tub of the Royal suite. 

Riley sank down to let the warm water wash over her. "This is perfect, Liam.” 

"It is.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the moment. 

"What's going on in that sweet, beautiful mind of yours, Riley?" 

"I was just thinking about how much time we've lost." Liam could see the hurt in her eyes mixed with unshed tears starting to form before she looked down, unable to keep eye contact with him.  Liam reached over to gently lift her chin, as she became emotional.

"We'll make up for lost time." 

"How, Liam?" 

"By spending every moment together, cherishing each other, and never letting go." 

"That does sound nice." 

"It does." 

Liam reached forward and brushed a strand of hair away from Riley's face. 

"I promise you, love. I will do everything in my power to make you happy." 

"I know, Liam.” 

"So, are you ready to talk about the future now?" 

"I am." Riley breathed in.

"Good." 

Liam paused, gathering his thoughts. 

"I want us to be a family, Riley. A real family. 

"Me too, Liam. But, how do we do it?" 

"We start by taking things one day at a time. We spend time together and get to know each other again. We take things slowly and enjoy the journey."

Liam looked at Riley with adoration, his eyes filled with love. 

“Je veux t’emmener a Paris.” Riley quickly turned her head to look at Liam. 

["I want to take you to Paris”] 

“Il y a tellement de belles choses que je veux partager avec vous la-bas.”

["There are so many beautiful things I want to share with you there."] 

“Okay, okay ... I caught the words, ‘Paris’ and ‘beautiful’.” Riley giggled and then waved her hand in the air. “Everything else went way over my head.” 

Liam smiled wide and shook his head. “I want to take you to Paris and share the beauty with you.” 

“The Eiffel tower was breathtaking.” 

“There is so much more to Paris than the Eiffel tower.” Liam lifted Riley’s hand to his lips and turned her wrist over to gently kiss. 

“Je dois montrer a l’amour de ma vie a quel point elle compte pour moi. Te revoir dans ma vie n’a pas de prix.”  

[“I need to show the love of my life how much she means to me. To have you back in my life is priceless.” ]

Liam tugged Riley’s arm and pulled her onto his lap. 

Cupping her cheek, he met her lips in a slow, sultry kiss, his tongue coaching her to allow him to take her breath away as his tilted her head to deepen the kiss. 

Riley more than willingly let Liam take the lead. She missed the thrill she felt when he would take control and melted into his embrace.

Liam’s hands moved down to her waist pressing her body down against his, as Riley wrapped her arms around his neck she felt his impressive length as she could not resist grinding her hips down. 

"Let's take this inside," he whispered huskily. 

"Mmmhmm." Riley purred. 

Liam rose up from the tub and lifted Riley up as she wrapped her legs around him. Dripping water and leaving a trail of wet footprints on the floor, Liam carried carried her inside to the bedroom.

With one arm supporting her, and the other opening the doors, they made their way inside. 

"I've missed this," he whispered, kissing her deeply. 

"So have I," she replied, her eyes half-closed, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against hers. 

They moved further into the room, stopping at the bed. Liam lowered Riley down onto the mattress, his body following hers. 

Riley ran her fingers through his wet hair, pulling him in for another heated kiss. 

"I need you, Riley," he whispered, his voice low and husky. 

"I'm yours, Liam," she whispered back, her body responding to his touch. 

Liam kissed down her neck, his hands roaming over her curves, exploring every inch. 

"Liam," Riley moaned, her body aching for more. 

“William ...” 

“William is comfortably sleeping in the next room.” 

Liam paused,  as he kissed his way down her body, his hands caressing her breasts, his lips teasing her nipples. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. 

"I'm yours," Riley replied, her voice full of desire. 

Liam kissed his way down her stomach, his hands caressing her hips. He parted her legs, his lips trailing over her inner thighs. 

Riley could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her body aching for his touch. 

"Please, Liam," she whispered, her voice a plea. 

The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other's embrace. It was if time itself had paused, allowing them this moment of reunification after so long apart. Their hearts beat in unison, a rythym of longing and desire that had been suppressed for too long.

They collapsed on the bed, their bodies entwined, their breathing heavy. 

Riley’s fingers traced the lines of Liam's face, memorizing every detail as if afraid this moment might slip away.

Liam, with a gentleness that belied his intensity, cradled her face in his hands, his eyes searching hers as if trying to convey a lifetime of unspoken words.

"I've missed you," Riley whispered, her voice barely audible above the rush of emotions between them.

Liam nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I've missed you too, more than words can say."

"Stay with me," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. 

"Always," Riley replied, her heart full of love. 

Riley snuggled closer to Liam, their bodies fitting perfectly together. 

"I love you," she whispered, her heart finally feeling complete. 

"I love you too," Liam whispered back, his love for her shining through his eyes. 

"This is perfect," she sighed, her body completely content. 

"You're perfect," he murmured, his arms holding her close as he kissed her forehead. 

***

The next day at Nevrakis Chateau in Lythikos dawned with a gentle warmth that matched the newfound closeness that returned between Riley and Liam. As they woke up entangled in each other's arms, the sunlight filtering through the windows painted their room in a soft golden hue. 

Riley stirred first, her fingers tracing patterns on Liam's chest as she watched him sleep peacefully. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of contentment she had not experienced in a long time. With a gentle kiss on his cheek, she whispered, "Good morning, my love." 

Liam blinked his eyes open, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he saw Riley's loving gaze. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, pulling her closer for a lingering kiss. 

"Riley," Liam began, his voice filled with affection, "I have a special arrangement for William today. I thought it would be wonderful for him to spend the entire day with Bartie, Maxwell, Savannah, and Bertrand." 

Riley's eyes lit up with delight at the thought of William having a day filled with fun and adventure with his friends. "That sounds fantastic, Liam! I'm sure they'll have a great time together." 

Liam nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "I thought it would also give us a chance to have some uninterrupted time together, just the two of us. We can explore more of Lythikos, enjoy a quiet lunch, and simply cherish each other's company." 

Riley leaned in, her eyes sparkling with affection. "I love that idea, Liam. Spending time with you like this is truly special." 

They shared a tender moment, savoring the anticipation of a day filled with shared experiences and cherished moments. Liam's thoughtful gesture to arrange William's day with their friends allowed them the opportunity to reconnect and deepen their bond in the enchanting surroundings of Nevrakis Chateau and Lythikos. 

After a leisurely morning together, they decided to explore more of Lythikos. Liam had planned a surprise outing for Riley, eager to show her some of his favorite spots in the picturesque region. 

They ventured out hand in hand, enjoying the crisp morning air and the breathtaking views of the mountains surrounding them. Liam took Riley to a secluded spot overlooking a serene lake.

"I used to come here often to clear my mind," Liam shared, his eyes reflecting the tranquility of the place. "It's peaceful, away from the chaos of the palace." 

"It's beautiful," Riley whispered, leaning into him as they watched the gentle breeze upon the water's surface. 

As they talked and shared stories from their past, Riley felt a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in a long time. Being with Liam in such a serene setting, away from the pressures of their responsibilities, allowed them to connect on a deeper level. 

After spending a blissful day together, they returned to the chateau in the evening, where a romantic dinner awaited them. Liam had arranged for a Michelin star chef to prepare a gourmet meal, complete with candlelight and soft music playing in the background. 

Over dinner, they talked about their hopes and dreams for the future. Liam expressed his desire to create lasting memories with Riley, to travel the world together and experience new adventures. 

"I want us to live fully, without any regrets," Liam said, his eyes locked on Riley's. "I want you by my side in every journey, every moment." 

Riley's heart swelled with love, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of Liam's feelings for her. "I want that too, Liam," she replied, reaching across the table to take his hand. "I want us to embrace life together, to cherish every moment." 

As the evening progressed, their conversation turned lighter, filled with laughter and playful banter. They danced together in the moonlit courtyard, lost in each other's arms, their worries and doubts melting away in the magic of the moment. 

Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them, and they retired to their room, cuddled up in each other's embrace. With a whispered "I love you" and a tender kiss, they drifted off to sleep, ready to face whatever the future held for them, united in their love and commitment to each other. 

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

📌@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @bascmve01 @busywoman @kristinamae093 @kingliam2019 @emkay512 @karahalloway @malblk21 @tinkie1973 @emersyn-in-cordonia @dutifullynuttywitch @charlotteg234 @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @imjusthereforliam

📌@choicesficwriterscreations

[ddejavvu]

pairing: satine kryze x reader

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. wlw, fem!reader, cunnilingus, power dynamics, shame/doubt

Typically being summoned to the Duchess's throne room means you're in line with ten other guards, across from five and the fifth in your own row. You feel your shoulders stiff at attention regardless of Satine being the only other person in the room, and she stands from her throne with less of her usual royal confidence.

"I thought you might meet me here." She starts, her voice still regal even if it's timid. It's uncharacteristic for her- she's never been unsure in her life, and if she has, she's never let on.

"You summoned me," You nod once, polite, "Am I to be the only guard?"

"You are not a guard," She sighs wearily, perhaps of her own lack of impulse control as she wraps her silken robe tighter around her slim waist, "Not here, not now."

She's still ashamed.

You don't blame her- she's not ashamed of associating with a lowly guard, she's ashamed that she can't stop herself from wanting what others may so freely take. She's ashamed that she has to order sex, that she can't kiss her way into it beneath rumpled bedsheets.

But if you could lay beside her each night, your nose pressed behind her ear and breathing in the scent of her hair as your bodies entwine, you would.

The Duchess always looks ethereal, but it comes now not from the regality of her dress, but the stray white-blonde hairs that stick out in front of her ears, the worry lines unobscured by foundation, the sheer layer of mesh that separates your skin from hers.

She was clearly restless in bed, thinking of your mouth, and you take great pleasure in ascending the steps to the throne as she sinks into the chair.

The stone is merciless on your knees but you'd forgo legs entirely to be able to press endless kisses into the warm, waiting gap between her legs. She jumps at the forward contact, eyes locked firmly and tearily on the stained glass behind you, so that she doesn't have to admit the fact that she stoops low enough to assign one of her guards to press tender kisses in places her dresses never expose.

The sound that comes out of her throat is something breathless and guileless, a pure, unfiltered reaction to such uncommon stimulation.

Your helmet rests beside you on the stone ground and Satine's thin, pale fingers card gently, shakily through your hair, drawing on the warmth from your scalp to ease her nervous tremors. No matter how many times you indulge in her on her throne, she worries that she will somehow mess up sitting there and letting you.

You'd gone straight for the kill, but with the way she'd reacted even with her thin, plain, royal blue underwear still between you and her sex, you turn to dig your nose into her thigh. She's clean shaven, meticulously so, but her skin is soft and well taken care of, floral lotion barely there over the smell of her needy body. Her skin is heated and warm even if her extremities aren't, and your breath makes them even hotter as you exhale shakily against her flesh.

Her fingernails scrape accidentally against your hair, and you chance a glance up at your Duchess.

Shimmering tears fall from her face, landing on your own cheeks, hot and cold all at once. You surge upwards with the confidence of someone other than one of her royal guards, catching yourself inches away from pressing your lips to hers.

Your eyes are wide and so are hers, but you remember your station even if you get away with breaching it in other ways. You don't dare kiss her, you- you couldn't, but she contains her shame in a single sniffle, and no more tears escape as you meet her head on, an equal.

"Thank you," She breathes, her voice a ghost of its normal self, and you're confident she doesn't mean for what you're about to do.

You sink back to your knees and grab boldly, selfishly at the roundness of her hips through the silken mesh material of her robe. You breathe her in greedily, the musk that her body produces no matter how meticulously she keeps herself primped and groomed.

It's sex, raw, pure sex that you're breathing, and she straightens in her seat, nearly writhing away from the persistent press of your nose against her panties. As if her breach of etiquette wasn't enough, you're chasing after her cunt, inhaling her like she's dripping in sex appeal. Shame fills her white hot and heavy, but she muscles it down as she combs her fingers through your soft hair.

You tease a finger at the elastic waistline of her underwear, waiting to see how she'll react when her skin is closer to yours than ever. She stiffens against her throne, but her thighs part wider, like her sex is begging for you to slot your head between her thighs even if Satine herself won't.

You pull them down as best you can, but she's seated firmly on the rear end, and you won't inflict the cold surface of her throne against her already-chilly skin. You keep them lowered with one finger as you tilt your head slightly, lips trembling in anticipation when you part them. Her cunt is clearly in need of stimulation, lips stiffly and slightly parted to showcase the embarrassing amount of slick she's produced from only a few thigh kisses. Or perhaps it was the eye contact- the Duchess is emaciated, starved for intimacy so that her body weeps in pleasure upon receiving it.

You zero in on one spot, your lips finally pressing reverently against where her clit pulses lightning rods of pleasure through her body. She gasps, crying out in pleasure, shame, and all in between. You lose yourself from there, kissing her sex like it may kiss you back, the press of lips and tongue working her up into a writhing, whining mess before you even breach her slit.

"Please," She begs, for more, for her dignity back, for the ability to hike up her underwear and pretend she'd never asked for this, "Oh, oh please."

Once you've started licking her you can't stop, chasing the ooze of slick that her body greets you with as it gushes more upon her arousal. You press into her cunt, tongue slipping easily between her flushed lips and tasting her as purely as anyone ever could. She's not sickly sweet, she's something between salty and sour that screams sex and want and need.

You're feasting on her truly like a woman starved, moans spilling from your lips as you kiss further and further into Satine's cunt. It's as regal as she is, perfect and something you'd lay down your life for, no questions asked. You have a brief vision of being appointed her personal guard- what an honor that would be, to attend to her in her quarters instead of here, in the chilly throne room. What you wouldn't give to undress her each night, to free her sore breasts from their uncomfortable confinements, to unsheathe her hips like twin blades you'd die on.

Satine is peaceful, pacifistic, but you feel a violent urge to make yourself hers entirely.

You're honored to taste her like this, your neck craned slightly, her hands combing shakily through your hair as your tongue strokes deeply through the confines of her trembling pussy. You press it tight to the base of her entrance, nose now slick with discharge as it bumps into her cunt, and she tightens her thighs around your head on instinct. It sounds like drowning and another wave of slick oozes from her that you'd love to surrender yourself to. You eat more desperately now, wishing that she were less sensitive if only to prolong the amount of time you can bury your face inside of her for.

You're ravaging her, letting her thighs pin you in place as you submerge yourself eagerly, willingly into her needy sex. Oxygen is the last thing on your mind and you feel your chin coated with stickiness, surely the same stuff you're spreading on her inner thighs that will soon transfer to your cheeks. You aim to be covered in her essence, shimmering with the way that Duchess wants you.

Your technique is perhaps crude, the way that overeager teens kiss with tongue for the first time that's mostly out of control. But it works on Satine, because she wants nothing more than to be wanted in this moment, and your lack of finesse screams how intensely you want her.

She presses her hips forwards into your face, probably involuntarily, as she's ravaged by her climax, her hands shaking where they grip the armrests of her throne for stability. Her orgasm seems like something that happens to her, something that she gets lost in as she desperately tries retaining some of that royal composure she's famed for. She's lost, though, shaking with some mix of lust and despair as your mouth guides her through her climax.

Her hands never leave your hair, and she has to be coaxed into unclenching her thighs, even though you'd let her crack your skull between them. You lick along the pale expanse of her inner thigh, cleaning her up with a tongue you're sure will leave behind sticky residue anyways. She shivers beneath your catlike ministrations, her eyes falling closed as she grips the throne even harder.

She lets you clean her up but you can sense your time waning, and you part with honor instead of being pried off of her like a leech, always sucking. You leave one last kiss against the crevice of her inner thigh, just before the mouth of her cunt, and she lets her dressing gown fall to cover it; a secret she'll keep pinned between her thighs.

She composes herself well for a woman who'd just trembled upon her own throne, and your knees are considerably weaker as you take hold of your helmet, tucking it beneath your arm. You're standing at attention again, and you don't notice until she sets you at ease.

"Please, not a word." She begs pitifully, and you don't know how to tell her that you'd die before betraying her cunt like an ego booster among the rest of the guards. No, they'll never know her hips fit perfectly in the palms of your hands, they'll never know your tongue slots into her cunt like a puzzle piece.

"Goodnight, Duchess," You bow at the waist, and when you stand again, you swear she has tears in her eyes again.

"Goodnight." She bids you morosely, as if you won't be summoned again only hours from now to stand guard outside of her dining hall. She turns, and you watch her bare feet pad over the cold stone floor as she exits the throne room, as regal as if she'd been decked in full royal attire.

Your hand is between your thighs before you even hit the mattress in your barracks, and when you bury your face in your pillow, you envision it's the pale, milky skin of the Duchess's shoulder you're keening into.

[cerises-hood]

my c.a. cupid headcanons

as requested by @webanglikethat :)

some of these might be/probably are canon! i’m just listing everything that MY version of c.a. cupid is.

she/her

pansexual

transfem

in love with dexter

best friends with hopper and briar

sheds feathers everywhere

collects cameos

loves sanrio, specifically my melody

loves lana del rey (fav songs are “cherry” and “love”)

love shoegaze

dries flowers

not very good at flying so she simply does not do it

collects crystals (has way too many rose quartz’)

reads tarot (favorite card is actually the sun, the lovers is a close second)

learning how to read palms but can never remember which line is which

uses ribbon for everything: shoelaces, hair ties, headbands, etc.

considers herself a witch, bonds with raven over this

sends her friends from monster high letters; always signs them with a kiss

has a black kitten named amore

religiously keeps a diary, has dozens of diaries from years past

really wants to be friends with duchess but is intimidated by her

wears pearl jewelry everyday (necklaces, earrings, everything)

has a vintage vanity that is her pride and joy

collects antique perfume bottles

bony structure

extremely pale… like basically white

pointy, elvish ears

shaved brows; draws them on really thin (1920s style)

very influenced by the 1920s aesthetic-wise

alice cullen-esque hairdo

[ever-after-high-alistair]

Her Mothers Shadow

A letter? To me? A bring purple paper was peeking out of Raven's backpack, she took it out and in glittery white writing, she read the contents in her head You're invited to a royal birthday party? Wear something fancy? She looked around in confusion and shock at what was put in her bag. The Evil Queen's daughter was invited to a birthday party? Maybe Raven finally proved that she was worthy of happiness. She grabbed the remainder of her things and walked out of the school building, on her way home. The constant guards and fancy cars her father insisted on having by her side irritated Raven. Her walking to and from school by herself was her only moment of peace. 

“Bye Raven!” Apple yelled

Raven turned around to see Apple directing a bunch of 3rd graders onto the school bus. They weren't much older themselves, but Apple always took control whenever she could. Her purple painted nails turned her palace doorknob, meeting the eyes of her father. 

“Hello muffin” The Good King hugged her “How was your day?” 

“Pretty good. I got this is my bag” she held up the invite out for him to read 

Raven couldn't even think about anything else, she was so excited to go that she ran straight to her room after dinner and  got out her best dress. A purple glitter belt and some black ankle boots to complete her look. An hour of doing her hair and picking jewellery had her almost due to leave. The party was in a backyard, and with the sky being a beautiful ombre, what better setting. She grabbed the gift. Not even being sure whose party or who was going to be there. But to her, it didn't matter. She was finally starting to be accepted and she was not going to turn down this opportunity. Leaving the grand mansion her dad occupied, she made her way to the designated address the invite read. Her boots were killing her, she hoped that the walk wasn't for much longer. 

Her feet hitting the concrete sidewalk constantly and kicking a rock to the side, she finally got to her destination. No lights or music? Where was everyone? She turned over the invite to confirm if she was mistaken somehow. Oh a backyard party. That explains it. Her arms swung with the present packed in a black party bag. 

“Hello? Anyone here yet?” she called

“As if anyone would want to party with an evil queen” a voice called out  Sparrow Hood, Duchess Swan, and Faybelle Thorn popped out of a nearby bush and sprayed her with spray paint. Her dress coated in freezing cold liquid, and the gift dropped to the ground. They ran away laughing and hollering insults at her. Her vision ran blurry and her heartbeat intensified. The walk home was painful and filled with tears. They ran down her round cheeks and onto the cold hard ground. Why did I think anyone would invite me anywhere? I'm evil. No one likes me and no one ever will. Why? Why did I have to be saddled with this fate? Her thoughts tightened around her brain until it felt like it was about to burst. Wanting to skip out on the attention, she stayed in her backyard, alone, to gather her thoughts and keep the questions away till her dad expected her. The cold thin air dried her tears, and the chatter of the people in her palace held her heart till she relaxed. Not wanting to see anyone tomorrow, she plotted up an excuse to stay home from school. But for now, it was just her, her feelings and the aftermath of the distressing events that took place.

______________________________________________________________

Sorry this ones pretty short, I have a few in drafts but I wanted to give yall more childhood ones, but I think I'm gonna share one or two out of there, despite it being a bit different.

[meli-writes]

Boar and the Lamb - Ch. 02

(Read on AO3) /// (Previous)

She doesn’t speak for an hour.

There’s an occasional break to wince, a pressed-lips whimper as her toes work to hold the rest of her up before she gives up and lets herself hang again.

Kori would like to make it nicer for her, but when she went to slide a box under the girl she immediately tried to use it to slip off the hook. She offered a shrift too — one from when Kori was half the age she is now, which still looked like it’d fit her with room to spare — to cover the nakedness, and still got nothing more than another kick-threatening scowl.

Kori reasons to herself that the chains wouldn’t let her anyway. And as long as the girl isn’t… screaming in pain it seems… okay — to leave her there?

She sets to work on the carcass: cutting the hooves off, starts to trace lines where she’ll skin it. There’s a rattle to the left, as the girl must’ve glanced and quickly looked back down. It’s then she finally has something to say.

“When I get out of these — I’m killing you,” she declares.

Kori huffs in bemusement. Perhaps a little admiration. “So what then, you don’t need my help with it? ‘Cos I feel a little demotivated when you’re mean to me like that,” she softly mocks, confident the girl’s stuck there flopping like a suffocating fish.

“Mean to—!?”

She shuts up and there’s a cold, considerate silence before the girl corrects herself with a simple—

“No.”

“No?”

She sounds like someone who’s never had that said back to her before. Daughter of at least a Duke. Kori tries to offer terms, waggles the knife towards the chains, “How ‘bout telling me how you got into all that? Maybe it’ll make me more sympathetic.”

“No.”

“Huh. Fine,” Kori mutters. Girl must’ve been a real belle-of-the-ball; a lure upon the hearts of every eligible groom in the realm. “Well… Whether you’re chained up or not, you need to eat. Are you hungry?” she asks.

The girl looks hard past the carcass at her. Her eyes are crackling snowflakes.

“Go—”

“Go fuck myself,” Kori finishes off for her; blade pointed up, its flat-side towards her. “Yeah, I get it.”

She can wait another hour, her conscience won’t hurt as bad as the girl’s arms will.

She hopes.

“Guess you can watch me then.”

Gives up for now at least, and starts to work the blade under the deer’s hide to skin it. The girl turns from it so forcefully she slips off her toes, and when Kori wanders over to stir the pot the deer’s bound for, she starts to shake the chains again, as if the hook’s going to loosen just because Kori isn’t looking.

She picks up a ladle and runs it through the for-now thin broth, working it till the smell permeates the modest cabin that’s barely the size of a palace privy.

“It’ll take a few more hours anyway,” she continues. “Maybe you’ll soften up with it.”

The girl is something at least when Kori extracts the deer’s guts — blade down its middle, spilling them into a wooden bucket. Feet off the floor; knees into her chest; she squeals and twists up at the wet slopping to her side. Kori can’t help herself but quip, “Seem a little squeamish for a girl covered in more than her own blood.”

Blood that Kori would’ve loved to bring a little washcloth to, wet with white snow warmed in a pot over the fire. If the bloody girl would let her.

“No? Anything?” she asks, when the girl won’t even huff back.

“They chose to get in my way,” the girl answers — to the question Kori didn’t realise she asked. She finishes through her teeth, “I had to.”

Kori hadn’t meant to pick at that particular, somewhat-dried-in-the-literal-sense scab, moreso was just amused at her possible-duchess getting squeamish over where all her fancy food has to come from.

Kori hunted for herself, and would’ve eaten it raw if she’d been allowed to. There’s a spring-bud of pride in Kori for how determined she was to be like that — never the delicate, fainting flower her mother would read to her about out of books, in some insidious attempt to instill the same ladylike decorum in her — but in her throat it blooms into guilt.

“And out here — I have to,” she jests with a duller edge.

She does have to. It’s not enough to forage, and the land’s too bitter to grow much more than a small patch of hardy tubers outwith the small peak of summer.

“No,” the girl retorts. “Move somewhere else.”

Kori sighs.

“Not as simple as that,” she doesn’t explain. “Really not as simple as that,” for more reasons than Kori is willing to admit to a stranger, especially a probably-noble one like her.

Her hand, the blade in it, falls low and loose to her hips, and it’s hard not to think of how many dozens and dozens of times she’s stood here, hooks loaded, not wanting to count how many times it’s been.

“I’m part of this place now,” she says. “And you’re not, and still need to explain that.”

The girl doesn’t explain anymore than she does.

---

There isn’t another word till it’s done.

Kori’s at least been allowed to prop a pillow under her without getting kicked. But internally she’s cursing how much scrubbing it’ll take to get the blood out of it later.

She pours out the full-bodied stew into a pair of bowls, and hears the soft clink of iron loops as her unintended captive must be trying to peer over Kori’s shoulder to see. Kori draws the table from the corner of the room to the middle, rolls the rug up to the bed, and places the bowls on either, not-very-apart ends.

Treading inside the potential range of humorously-impotent-if-still-painful violence, she asks, “You able to sit down and eat normally, or do I gotta feed you like a gosling?”

It flashes within Kori that she might not mind the labour of that, if she wasn’t sure some of it would get spat back at her. Or maybe the girl is actually too hungry to mind the humiliation of that, despite also still being displayed in miserable nakedness.

Fuck.

She’s still naked.

And silent.

And she doesn’t look pissed at this point. A bit defeated, perhaps, so Kori tries to spare her, “You don’t have to say yes, can just—”

She nods.

“Works for me.”

---

The girl takes to standing like a puppet-show doll of a foal on cut strings, and Kori has to bear an arm under her shoulder to make sure she doesn’t topple. The arm’s accepted till she’s sat down, where then Kori fetches the blanket to cover her and make her feel a little less out of place.

She doesn’t take to the bowl. Sniffs at it with an air of disgust, and Kori has to ask, “When’s the last time you ate—”

“Nine days,” the girl interrupts.

One of Kori’s favourite subjects to be mentored on was siege warfare — mostly for the giant weapons — and one of the lessons she, in hindsight thankfully, never got to put to use was about the defenders who’d manage to survive through brutal starvation but then kill themselves gorging on relief supplies. Their bodies unsuited to so much so soon.

“—an animal?” is what Kori meant.

“Oh,” the girl blurts. It’s the first time she’s said something not laced with indignation. “Never.”

“Never?” Kori gawks. “And here I’d pictured the brave little princess spitting out her first decree to make king daddy spare the spring lamb.”

Kori had asked to kill the lamb herself. Was the moment she realised hunting something grown was far more palatable, and so she relates more than she lets on.

“Not our way,” the girl says.

Something under her ruined, straw-coloured hair twitches.

At least in Kori’s head, where it clicks at last.

She rises from her chair, around the table, and brushes hair past the girl’s ear just as she’s starting to sip from the bowl. It takes longer than it would Kori to brush her own hair back, just long enough for a full, regal point to reveal itself as it shivers in irritation. 

Because she’s a fucking Elf.

Kori’s never known an Elf. Seen them once or twice, also in chains, because the kingdom she's from had always hated the one the Elf must be from, and had invaded it more than once — to a middling-to-nillish effect each time. Maybe it’s gotten worse. Not like news comes to Kori, and that’s more than on purpose. There’s the couple times a year she strays to the local coaching inn, and she never speaks to any but the faces she already knows.

The Elf’s spoon bashes against the table, and Kori sees her hand wrenched around it so hard her fingers have turned the colour of the outside right now.

Kori retreats — fast, “Sorry about that. Not a ‘visitor’ person. Forgetting myself—” 

“Consort.”

Kori gasps cluelessly.

“You said I was a princess,” the Elf explains. Oh, right. “Was a princess. Consort now.”

“Fuck.”

Kori knows what she means. Knows who she means, having grown up around a few of them. 

It’s a polite word for concubine. Some of them peasants who found some small measure of relief, even a happiness, in the comfort of it. And others—

“Yes. Fuck,” the… Princess, Kori supposes, continues. “Too old to be a hostage-ward; too far from first-born for hostage-marriage; still valuable enough to be sold off as trophy for some successive line of violent, uncultured, barely-civilized, filth-ridden warlords.”

The sullen spoils of war.

Where a Human might keep her place for years, a decade even, an Elf wouldn’t be discarded for centuries. Kori had dreamt of some miracle meaning she’d inherit them some day. Imagined taking care of them all, even after they’d left — if they wanted to. That, or she’d bust them out, lead them somewhere like… here.

Thinks-with-her-fists-Kori. Childish of her. Sweet-rotten with the guilt that she’d ever thought that would somehow make them think she was different, or Gods-forbid like her.

“Where were you going?” Kori dares to ask. “Or… I mean taking you.”

“The Vale of Orrik.”

Kori eats her shudder with a spoonful of deer, then shoves her spoon deep into the bowl and lets the thick broth soak up the tremors. To call it a vale is a humbling misnomer for what had long sprawled into empire. It was a noble history, of righteous conquest and divinely-sought expansion — as she was raised to believe.

Mostly noble. Even the most gilded, vaulted halls of Humans were a patch on a pauper’s shoe compared to the smallest of Elfs. Not that the Vale would admit it.

“And… the chains,” Kori inquires, “they didn’t just… do that. I hope?”

“Ran from the first caravan,” the Princess says. “Burnt the second to the ground.” Her survival in the bitter cold makes more sense; she’s tutored in magic. It’s fair then to assume the chains are limiting her, keeping her dull, and that it’s why she hasn’t burnt Kori’s cabin down too. “Chained for the third. Waited till dinner, grabbed the knife and ran.”

And a lot of people decided to get in your way.

“Good thing I made a stew,” Kori jokes at the Princess’ white-knuckled spoon, eager to break the grimy film of pity still on her words.

“Hmm. Yeah,” the Princess agrees, her stare enough to do it.

Kori tries to spoon some more stew down her, mulling on how to spill what she’s been thinking while the Princess has been clitter-clanking away with each tenuously-accepted spoonful of culturally-anathemic nutrition.

“Look. I do have an idea about how to get them off,” she says. “The chains.”

The Princess perks at that. Her stare comes with a straight smile this time, but the eyes are desperate now. “Hacksaw,” Kori elaborates. “But—” she stresses, before the Princess gets up and stops eating like she needs to, “it means going out to the shed and I can’t do that till the blizzard lightens on the morrow.”

The Princess sits still. Tongue and spoon included.

Kori opens her mouth and just has to make it a bit worse, “If it lightens.”

“Fine”, the Princess finally lets out, and puts her spoon back to work.

“Is there anyone out there still… I mean, I guess— hunting for you?” Kori asks. There’s the minor concern for her own safety but— pretty little thing needs her help, and Kori hasn’t done anything interesting in a long time.

Thinks-with-her-clit-Kori.

“No,” the Princess tells her. It’s a relief. “There’ll be more though.”

Ah.

“Well, blizzard isn’t gonna let them go anywhere either,” Kori appeals. “When you do get to leave, you’ll have a headstart.”

The Princess seems to grasp at the concept between quiet, restless mouthfuls.

“You’re gonna let me go?” she asks, like it wasn’t obvious hours ago. But maybe it’s not unfair of her to have the worst assumptions.

Kori feels sweet-rotten at the thought it could be otherwise.

“I didn’t want to keep you here,” Kori spells out, and it seems to click for the Princess too. “Just— promise me you won’t stab me, or burn my house to the ground?”

“Hmm,” the Princess grunts. “Works for me.”

---

(Masterpost) / (Next)

[mayuurx]

James'

This isn't a story of tragedy. Much less a biography. Not to me, at least. How does a man see his own life? In his self-perceived little world, he strings together his thoughts, his stories, his adventures, hoping to find some meaning—something to claim as his own, something significant in what are really nothing more than a series of mundane events. That's how I see it, if I may voice my opinion: strings of mismatches, mirror shards. Oh, well.

———————

It started with a baby's first cries. Naturlich. It was an otherwise uneventful morning in 1892, Yorkshire, England. Yet inside that room, anticipation hung thick in the air. The first light of dawn pierced through the large windows, casting long shadows over the cramped, suffocating space. Silence reigned, tense and expectant. They were waiting. Faceless attendants exchanged glances, but no one dared speak. At the center of it all was the grand bed where the duchess lay, beads of sweat glistening on her pale face. Her chest rose and fell, up and down, rhythmically. Her tangled, messy hair spread like spider legs acros the pillow. She was exhausted; after all, she'd been in labor for hours. Even so, her eyes glinted. Other than the occasional quiet cry, she had managed to hold most of it in— just a fierce, yet quiet struggle. One final push. With her hand gripping tightly to the old midwife's extended hand, she cried out for the last time, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. All was still—the pacing duke outside the room, the attendants, everyone seemed to hold their breath. Then, the moment broke with the wail of a child. A new life, tiny and frail, brought into the world. The midwife held the newborn up to the cold winter air as the child cried. A boy. It was a boy. The announcement was made, passed from one attendant to another. Exchange between hands landed the child in his mother's embrace. The duchess, who had been so silent throughout the ordeal, quietly sobbed while cradling him in her trembling arms. Moments later, the duke, having heard the loud cry, rushed in, bursting through the doors to join his wife and newborn son. Congratulations followed. Outside, a solitary moth landed on the window.

———————

Bang. He jolted awake as the heavy book hit the floor. No one else noticed. Voices mingled and blurred, creating a nonsensical hum of white noise. His colleagues were deep in heated arguments about dividends or something of the sort—something he couldn’t care less about. This meeting hadn’t been his idea. From the start, he'd insisted that it was unnecessary, and now he was proven right. They raised issues but solved nothing in the end, as expected from something conjured out of thin air. Maybe, just maybe, he could sneak away without anyone noticing. It wasn’t as if he cared anyway. No one batted an eye as he stood, gathered his things, and made his way to the door. Pushing through the glass door, he heard a soft, unexpected sound. A moth. How did it get in here? He didn’t know, but it wasn’t surprising. Sometimes, they managed to sneak in. These things happen. And now it lay under his shoe like a crumpled sad piece of paper. He stared at it for a moment, then huried on. Barely a thought spared. They are pitiful things that don’t last long anyway.

[cdramaconvert]

The names Crowley calls Aziraphale when he's ordering drinks at the pub (with photos and descriptions for context)

On my nth rewatch of Good Omens I hyperfixated on this scene in particular because "who the fuck is Lady Brackney?" and I just had to look it up. Apparently, this scene was improvised by David Tennant and it's a typo for Lady Bracknell.

Prime Video has a blooper of this scene showing the different takes and the names Crowley calls Aziraphale. So of course I had to look all of them up and now you have to find out about them too.

Lady Bracknell

(Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest)

Lady Bracknell is first and foremost a symbol of Victorian earnestness and the unhappiness it brings as a result. She is powerful, arrogant, ruthless to the extreme, conservative, and proper. In many ways, she represents Wilde's opinion of Victorian upper-class negativity, conservative and repressive values, and power.

Angela Lansbury

(award-winning actress)

Known for taking on various roles in film, television and on stage, Angela Lansbury was nominated for an Academy Award after appearing in her first movie, Gaslight (1944). She continued her film work during the '60s and '70s while also starring in television projects. In 1984, she debuted as Jessica Fletcher in the popular series Murder, She Wrote, which would run into the next decade. Lansbury has also won several Tony Awards for her work in projects like Mame, Gypsy and Sweeney Todd.

Miss Marple

(Fictional Character in Agatha Christie's crime novels and short stories)

While Agatha Christie acknowledged that her grandmother had been a huge influence on the character, she writes that Miss Marple was "far more fussy and spinsterish than my grandmother ever was. But one thing she did have in common with her – though a cheerful person, she always expected the worst of everyone and everything, and was, with almost frightening accuracy, usually proved right."

Bonus names he calls him in cases his references were too specific

My maiden aunt

Dowager Duchess

My elderly friend

The old lady

Now it made more sense (at least to me) why Michael Sheen had to make a reference when he was asked about this scene too.

For those who missed it, "Thin Dark Duke" is a reference to David Bowie's alter ego "Thin White Duke"

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 37 - outdoors fashion in 1922

Today we’re starting with a bit character: The Duchess of Yeovil. She stays for long enough that I get a few close-ups of her outfits, so that’s all my justification.

Somehow, I always thought this walking suit is a beautiful, chocolate, dark brown, but now that I look at it again, it seems to be predominantly black? With the brown just being cuffs and collar? Huh, perhaps I’ve led myself astray over the pretty brown velvet hat. Speaking of, look at the adorable checker on her hatband! And I’m weak for the blouse, I’ll admit it. The ruffled front and cuffs can look very stuffy and outdated in the wrong context; here, they look stylish.

We see more of the cute hat, including a cord trim that is looped to a little extra decoration element in the front. But she’s swapped her coat for this pretty beige number with a lot of light brown curlicue embroidery, the overall effect of which is very nice. And you know what? Rosamund’s curse of constantly wearing other people’s old clothes catches up with her; next season, this coat will be hers. And she doesn’t even get the fur stola to it. At least she has her own pretty velvet hat with embroidery?

--------------

Mary in a darling walking suit; at least I think this is a walking suit because the skirt seems to match the coat. This is either gold on black or gold on dark blue, but who cares; it looks very pretty. There’s bigger and more delicate patterns here, all in gold, and I couldn’t even tell you if this is a weave, a print, or an embroidery. The composition is perfect, from the shoes up to the hat with the little pleated bow, all matching each other to the nines.

A step down in glamor, but no shade to the coat. The tweed makes it look a lot more robust than the previous, and a lot more rectangular. The purple shade of the hat and velvet collar is washed out a bit into the realm of grey on the main fabric, and while Cora has taught me to eye collars such as this one with wariness, I do like the buckled straps around her wrists and drop waist. I only very recently learned that shades of lavender were half-mourning colors worn after one comes out of the black, and yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Mary starts wearing a lot of those after the first episode of season 4.

Similar dusty color so the half-mourning association stays, but it’s herringbone weave. Don’t @ me; herringbone weave can do no wrong. The lapels and trim of the cuffs are a little more plum than the overall shade, and I think the little buttoned straps on the sides are just there for decoration because they sure don’t do any waist shaping to the coat. I still want to comment on the shape of the hat in the second picture; this shows up here and there throughout the show, and it seems to have been designed specifically to accommodate a chignon, with that little arched cutout in the back. Anyway, darling decoration! Love the little feathers in the bow.

This grey walking suit is so generic that I’m surprised I haven’t found it as a keeper for season 5. It doesn’t really have anything except another half-mourning color and the pin tucks on the collar. Well, the weave loosens up the color a bit, but other than that? The hat is barely decorated either; this sort of simple patch element is what in season 2 the servants would use to pretty up their hats. What gives, fashion queen?

Having not yet gotten back to most of her old colors even after she’s fully out of mourning, Mary seems to stay away from her previously preferred jewel colors, like she does with this cream coat with an attached scarf. It doesn’t have much to it, but it looks quite comfortable.

Mary in marvelous monochrome. I think this gets the most effect out of its black elements, the thin stripe on top of her shirt, down her skirt, and on her hatband as well as the little leather purse and gloves. I love these gloves; they are beautiful. Somehow, all these pop so nicely on the largely light grey and white ensemble that I barely even miss colors. A very clean, neat, streamlined look that still manages to be very elegant.

--------------

Where Mary’s new black coat this season goes with golden curlicues, Edith’s opts for an art deco design in various brown and orange shades. Me like. I really enjoy that the coats of this time often don’t restrict their decoration to cuffs and collar, but instead let it spread on a bigger surface up from the hem. Much more to look at. By the way, this beauty keeps sneaking through film history; it had appearances 1974 in The Head of Caesar, 1994 in The House of Elliot, and 1997 on an extra in Mrs. Dalloway.

For a walking dress, Edith combines deep indigo with a lively orange, both in the dress itself and the cute hat. This color pairing will show up several times throughout this season and the next – it’s tied to the newspaper office and Michael Gregson, so to both Edith’s professional and romantic perspectives. Also, consequences, but we’ll get to that. For now, let’s look at this print that seems to include pseudo-hieroglyphs, Egyptoid deity figures, elements of temple architecture and so on. A very playful design, fitting the revival of Egyptomania in the early 1920s. You know what else in the show plays with this particular Zeitgeist? Correct, the fashion show Mary visits in season 5. And you know what an extra during the fashion show scene wears? This exact print. I’m connecting the dots. I don’t know which dots, but I’m connecting them.

Hm. The same dress in boring, I guess? Well, the color is nice; the chiffon with the tone-in-tone embroidery just doesn’t do as much as the orange printed fabric. Also, after all her coral and gold and peach shades plus the occasional pale green, this indigo-leaning blue on its own just seems unfamiliar on Edith. The hat has some colorful embroidery on it, but overall, the down-curving brim and this outfit give the impression that Edith wants to hide. Which she probably does.

The third walking dress of the pretty much same making, except this bores me even more because it’s brown. With some beige embroidery. To be fair, I like square necklines and the embroidery itself is pretty, an art deco-ish ornamental band in a smaller version on her top and a wider down on the hem, but she could have gone with a slightly more popping color for the necklace or hatband. Granted, Edith is deeply unhappy here, so that might be a reason to not care for colors. It’s just, in this scene Edith talks about her lover presumably having been beaten to death in Munich by “men in brown shirts that preach the most horrible things”, and this is almost Nazi brown, but assorting her there color-wise makes no sense as Edith clearly despises them. You’d think she’d want to distance herself from the thought in every way possible.

Another coat, but this one is specifically dark blue so that the combination with her peach skirt adds up to the aforementioned color Michael-Gregson-and-the-newspaper-office scheme. Something about this coat reads vaguely Slavic-inspired to me. I guess it’s the high collar in combination with the side slits and then the ornamental band for the trim. Plus the asymmetrical closure? I may be very wrong about this, but the overall impression is quite lovely anyway. Pretty, pretty trim.

Back in the Edith-typical colors! The dress is reserved for indoor outfits, but the coat is quite nice with its diamond structure and softly peachy brown color. It also has a little volume that goes into the drapery in the front. And this hat seems familiar, but I’m not sure if I have commented on it already? I think this type of cloche with an upturned brim in the front frames Edith’s face nicely.

--------------

Guess I can’t avoid Miss Bunting forever. There’s not much to this outfit tbh; the tie collar of the blouse is kind of nice and the coat has stripes which is a plus, but Miss Bunting is usually not allergic to color, so what’s with all the beige and white? Eh, whatever. The cloche straw hat with that pleated decoration will stay with us because Miss Bunting is one of the few working class people in this show who owns a realistic number of hats.

Much better! I think this turquoise shade is gorgeous; looking forward to the evening gowns in this color. It’s a drop waist dress with a striped weave structure and a little trim pattern, and the coat is simpler and a little paler, but nicely coordinated with the dress. I find it interesting that this coat has sleeves gathered into the cuffs; that’s a style I’ve seen on blouses of the time, but in my experience, coats tend to straight-lined sleeves and cuffs.

--------------

Terrible lighting, but let’s still have a quick look at Rose’s friend Madeleine Allcott. Her father may be broke, but he sure won’t let it show in his daughter’s wardrobe; she wears this beauty of a golden-ish beige velvet. It’s again a coat with some gathering in the front, speaking to a bit of volume, and it has big-ass cuffs with a lovely piping ornament that’s repeated on the collar.

--------------

Do you see that coat on Rose, with all the patterned stripes? That seems to be entirely knit. Who even has that time?? And because the coat has at least five colors, the rest of the outfit is simple, a voluminous but plain blue scarf and a hat with a little silver braid wrapped up into two coils at the side. We’re firmly in cloche hat time now; this style has come to stay.

A quite simple grey coat, but I feel it deserves a second look because of the layered collar; that’s a style I really like. And then the pocket(s) seem(s) to go in a curve over her side, which is not something I see a lot of. Nice design, I like it. Plus another cloche hat for Rose, this one in white with a flower ornament on the hatband.

This purple coat looks like Rose is getting dressed up in Crawley colors. In fact, this could easily stand next to some of Mary’s coats and I would say they were made in the same shop; a more dusty shade for the main fabric (which may or may not be tweed) and then accents in a deep purple velvet on trim and collar is a familiar concept. The collar shape seems rather on the youthful side, and I personally probably would go with a scarf, but the look overall is quite nice with the matching hat.

Rose keeps wearing blue this season, but gives up almost entirely on the contrasting red, which surprised me as the blue outfits had an unhappy connotation for her. They lose this connotation now; her new blue outfits are not a statement on her mood or being forced to behave in a specific way. She has a nice dress here with a big flower print, a drop waist and big neckline trim of a wide blue ribbon, and a little something new that will show up more: A sort of pseudo-tie down the front that goes through some little loop. It’s not my personal favorite design element, but let’s see how it fares. Add in a simple white coat with a tad of black trim on the cuffs and a matching hat with a pleated ribbon, and we’re good to go.

Only a very poor shot, but once they zoom in and there’s some light, they are already taking off their coats. So it’s just this small glimpse at what might be an opulent brown-golden brocade with fur trim. I’m sure it’s a lovely coat, if only I could see it.

How many coats does one girl need? Rose needs many. This is almost an Edith color, a washed-out emerald, and the colorful trim is neat although I cannot tell if it’s flowers or something more geometrically abstract from the realm of art deco. Funny; I think I haven’t seen a standing collar in quite a while in the chronology of this show outside of Violet’s old-lady fashions.

…Ok, yes, she definitely needs this coat. It’s a dream. This beauty of blue velvet is what Rose wears in the city during her debut season, so yeah, there’s an occasion for this amount of fancy. It’s got a fur collar and golden embroidery on the cuffs and shoulders; this will definitely draw looks.

[rmelster]

INTROITUS: THE FAREWELL OF A DAUGHTER, 1444.

Many years later, Isabelle would recall the only occasion she had seen her mother weep. It happened a forgotten day of the year 1444, and the memory of her tears would follow her to the grave that she untimely came to rest in.

That fateful night, she was eight years of age and her heart was heavy with anguish as she restlessly laid on her bed; her beloved sister, Marie, had been wed to Jean, the young Duke of Calabria, and parted with him to his domains, leaving a void where she had once been that Isabelle felt like a grievous wound. Even at that young age, the little girl knew what it meant: Her sister would never see Bourbonnais again.

The betrothal and wedding had been result of the Duchess of Bourbon’s cunning. Seven years had passed since she had offered the hand of her firstborn daughter to the heir of the Duchess of Calabria; seven years until both the bride and the bridegroom grew to an agreeable age to be wed. Isabelle had never thought that a wedding would occur; but it did. The bride was fifteen and, dressed in a heavy dress of golden cloth and a cloak ribbed with marten, she proved the fairest of all the daughters of Bourbon; the feast, the merriment, the dances… It had all all passed like a hazy dream, until Marie had came to kiss all her siblings goodbye.

When it came time for her to bid farewell, Isabelle had pulled her sister into an embrace; her eyes were full of tears.

“Promise me that you won’t forget us.”

A sad smile curved the lips of the now Duchess of Calabria: “I promise” she had said, pinning in her hair one of the flowers of the wedding, as red as the blood of a dragon, “And hereby I make the oath that, if it is in me, my first daughter shall have your name.”

And, just as she had been by her side for years, she left.

That night, Isabelle couldn’t sleep. Dream refused to free her from the sorrows of the vigil and, after what seemed like centuries, she decided not to wait, She had slipped off the bed, light like a young bird, wrapped in her nightshirt, tiptoeing out of her bedchamber, careful not to awake her maid.

The little Isabelle found his mother in a chamber, far from her own. She wandered through the solitary halls of the castle, looking for her mother. Duchess Agnès was, together with the guards, the first in rising from bed, and the last to return to the bedchamber for the night; in light nights like those, one could see her dwelling in a empty chamber, reading her precious book of prayers, making arrangements and reading letters, or silently embroidering near the fire; she was the image of virtue and dedication, of what a duchess had to be.

She still wore the beautiful gray gown ribbed in ermine fur and embroidered in silver thread that she had worn during the ceremony, but her necklace was resting over the table, and she had made her old maid disassemble the complicated veiled headdress that she used to wear, her long, flowing auburn mane falling gloomily on her back. At her feet, a little black-wooled lap dog slept soundly. Her white hands, those hands that Marie had too, with thin and agile fingers, were eagerly embroidering a delicate piece of tapestry.

"What death doesn't take away from me, a man will do," she heard her murmur.

Her father entered the room, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers; he no longer could be considered a young man, for his black hair was now stricken with silver, and wrinkles had made their nest around his raven eyes, but he still presented himself formidable like an oak and healthy as a man younger that his years. The shadow of concern veiled his ruddy face as he inched closer to the women with whom he had shared his life.

"My lady” he said, “The hour is late, and the day has been long. Thou must return to the bedchamber.”

The duchess denied.

“The Duke of Burgundy has sent a herald to Bourbonnais today. He says that his wife is looking for girls and maidens of serving age, so that she can foster them in their court. I have to send our Isabelle; I am aware that doing so, I am giving her so many opportunities and yet...”

A long, woeful silence followed; Isabelle tiptoed closer and pressed her cheek against the wall, her heart fast with inquiry. Even though she had never met him, she knew who her noble mother alluded; Philippe, the Duke of Burgundy, who the duchess’ brother, and the master of one of the wealthiest courts in Europe; fair and wise like none other, it was no surprise that his courtiers, from the Burgundian France to the Netherlands, had given him the name le Bon, “the Good”. His duchess, Isabel de Portugal, was also very known among their subjects, for she was not only a capable lady, but a famed matchmaker; any lady that came to her court and earned her favour could expect to be married to the best eligible prospect, from counts to rich merchants, and even kings and emperors.

That was a great opportunity, indeed; but the Duchess of Bourbon looked as if grief and exhaustion were breaking her will.

"I'm exhausted, Charles” she had finally said, and Isabelle had flinched; never had she heard her mother call her father’s name, not even once, “I feel like my strength is failing. I have handed over a very young daughter, and now I hand over another, knowing that she will never be mine anymore, that once de comes to Burgundy…”

The orderly Duchess Agnès, daughter, wife and mother of dukes, who had given birth to ten children of Bourbon in twenty years, and that was with child for the eleventh time; she, who had kept the estate when the duke had sunk in sorrow after the untimely death of their beloved son Philip, who had kept her head high when the constant disagreements of her lord husband with the king had despoiled them of lands and honours that had belonged to their lineage since centuries; she, who was the pillar where the family relied, she collapsed on the duke’s arms.

Troubled, the duke had held his weeping wife between his arms, and pressed in her brow a kiss so light it would had flown with the nightly breeze.

"Here, my lady, thou must not weep" he had cooed, “If thou cannot keep your courage, then I shall give thee mine. Our Isabelle shall be in her court, and we shall visit her as often as we can; we won’t lose her, my lady. We won’t lose any.”

Before Isabelle could even stomach what she was hearing, someone grasped her arm; her maid, Bonne, looked at her with a weary face, as of she was fresh from slumber.

“What are you doing out of bed so late, petite?” she inquired in a whisper, a soft note of concern in her voice. Isabelle looked down.

“I got lost” she lied. Her Bonne seemed not to believe her, but she decided not to disturb her masters with complaints at their young daughter’s behaviour, for she read the sadness in her eyes; instead, she raised in her robust arms, and carried her back to bed.

At last, Isabelle de Bourbon rested.

@lordbettany / @catherinemybeloved / @ricardian-werewolf

[dre4ml4nd-st4rlight]

Serene Jellymer Architect Alter for @theworldtree01 - I'm ngl Im probs gonna come back to this and add more transids when I can find some because it feels e m p t y.

**｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

「 ✦ Base ID ‘ s ✦ 」**

╰┈➤ names : Selene , Marina , Muir , Aurelia , Aurita , Pearla , Nereus

╰┈➤ ****Pronouns : sea/hers , she/hers , he/him , they/them , xe/xem , fin/fins , Ae/are , it/its , shell/shells , nie/neirs , sea/seas , dream/dreams

╰┈➤ Titles : ⌞ title of royal status I.e queen/king, prince/princess, duke/duchess ⌝ of the Deep , The Creator , ⌞ prn ⌝ who carves the world and fate , Maker of the Worlds Designs , The Creator of Sea , Arbiter of Land and Sea

╰┈➤ Genders : aquaegender , mermaidgender , genderfluid , seagender , starwashic , mermaidic , sirekenic , sirenic , jelliestaric , creauterelle

╰┈➤ Orientations : abroromantic , acespec , femme-lean , paraphilias : aquaphilia , objectum ( castles , furniture , jewelry , gems and minerals ) , theophilia + autotheophilia

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ other id ‘ s ๋࣭⭑ ꩜ ˎˊ˗

☾ Cis - Aquatic Species : Mer-jelly + Moon Jellyfish ( Aurelia Aurita ) + Mermaid + siren , white + pearlescent eyes , long hair , Builder , architect , ruler - creative , proper , graceful , adaptable , serene , empathetic , loyal , mystical , adventurous , intuative , can speak to aquatic animals , dreamy , communicative , curious , understanding , critical thinker , worldly , wise , partly apathetic

⟡ Trans - deity (creator deity) , real world person , occupation : architect + builder + royalty / leader + interior designer , maturity (less) , trans gardener , ghost like / spirit , drifter , teleporter , omnipotent , aesthetic ; fruitiger aero , perfectionist , ocd , sea-shapeshifter ,

ᯓ★ 「 ✦ Roles + Alter Functions ✦ 」. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

architect , admin ; innerworld manager , Groundskeeper , Gardentender , communicator , dream holder + assistant dream gatekeeper , artisan

Serene drifts through different layers + spaces in the headspace and alters them to their liking. She uses water to help create or alter headspace- places ( new or existing ) they are crafting tend to be flattened and flooded with water, fins skies blank grey. Soon a thin layer of water settles on the ground that mirrors the sky clearly. Xe use this water to help them form new objects and spaces. Ae have access to the bodies dreams (daydreams + sleep dreams), and can act as a temp gatekeeper of dreams when using a dream in the creation process. While in the process of altering / creating a new world , Fin has the ability to form headmates / fragments / walk-ins specifically to preform the task of Groundskeeper or Gardentender while he is not around. These created fragments are solely tied to those headspaces, and typically cannot leave.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ Interest and misc details ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Favorite Colors : White , Light blue , light pink , seafoam , beige , light green , light purple

Sea’s voice is very light and soft, feminine with an eerie aura. When shell speaks, one can hear the faint sound of bubbled popping and water rushing. It has a soft echo to it, faint. When angered, this echo gets louder, and will repeat the words that he puts emphasis on; this is sometimes accompanied by a sort of staticy noise. When saddened or scared, the rushing of water and bubbles gets louder and more violent.

Hobbies + Interest : swimming , creating , sea creatures , beachcombing , exploring caves , sunbathing , ocean sounds , sailing , coral reefs , marine biology , tide pools , mythology , starfish , pearls , moonlight nights , starry nights , building / architecture / interior design ( Ae likes to create floor plans or draw small scenes, in headspace and out. In headspace xe have a bit more freedom as sea can just create the buildings )

Aurita has a dream in life to create their ‘ultimate dream land’ in whatever way they can. He wants to see xier creations come to fruition in the real world as well, to spread their creations and lands for all to see.

Nereus gets along well with the other headmates- sea enjoys taking what little requests they have and fulfilling them in a new room.

Sea has a lot of anxiety when building worlds. They are a person who needs it to be completely perfect and finished before anyone can see it. He gets extremely self conscious if someone watches them work, and tend to work while undercover. Fin has a habit of not giving their created fragments consciousness until after the space they are completely done with the world. They also like to leave little Easter eggs of other alters / places in headspace for other alters to find. Oftentimes sea leaves herself little hidden passageways + tools they can use to monitor certain headspaces. They have a sort of omnipotent control over water in headspace, and they leave pools of water around headspace for communication- around their created fragments, near alters that struggle to communicate, nearby front, etc .

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

── .✦ Photos + Aesthetic hoard

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