#which is the very beginning of a red-rose chain

[hanichani]

You look so perfect standing there...

Pairing: chan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: a drabble inspired by she looks so perfect by 5sos

Warnings: chan has a tattoo and is very much in love, lmk if i missed aynthing

Word count: 920

a/n: ever since I saw that clip of chan singing that song at one of the maniac tour concerts, i thought it was a very channie coded song. btw i know getting someone's name tattooed is very... but imagine someone being so obsessed with you that they do that hjkdjkh

when you walk out of the bathroom chan is already in bed, wearing his pyjamas (a pair of boxers), facing the ceiling. you lean on the door frame and cross your arms over your chest, looking at the man with only love and admiration in your eyes (maybe a bit of lust as well and no one can blame you for that). his sight moves from the ceiling to his wrist as he raises his arm up. he starts playing with the chain bracelet he’s worn forever now and when he does so, you can see the little tattoo that is hidden on the inside of his bicep. it’s a small black arrowed heart that has your name in it and you vividly remember the night he got it.

it was two years into your relationship when chan was in his yolo era and so so in love with you. so, one night, he picked you up at your house and told you he had a surprise. you did not expect him to take you to a tattoo salon and you expected what followed even less.

“you’re crazy.” you told him while shaking your head at him. but he only fired back with a very predictable “yea, for you.” and a loud laugh.

and even though chan is still equally as in love with you, he is also more responsible now and thinking about things that actually matter. so, when your body movement interrupts him from his thoughts, he looks over to you with a questioning expression. when he sees your form leaning on the doorframe, he smiles. you look so perfect standing there and he feels the need to tell you. he always does.

“you look beautiful.” he says, rolling over to his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows, one of his hands supporting his chin.

you snort in response and move closer to the bed, staring down at him. his hair is fluffy since he washed it tonight, the curls coming back to life. you reach down and ruffle it which he takes as an invitation to pull you down to the bed with him.

you’re wrapped up in his arms. one of his hands resting on your waist and the other sneaking down to your ass. the movement pauses when he reaches the hem of your underwear. or more specifically, his underwear. when he feels the thick band of fabric sitting on your skin, he pulls your shirt up and looks down.

“you’re wearing my underwear.” he states the obvious while his hand finally moves over the fabric that belongs to him (and also the skin that belongs to him). “yea, it’s more comfy to sleep in.” you respond, looking down as well. you’re not going to lie, the sight is nice. the black calvin klein boxers sitting on your hips nicely and chan’s pretty hand resting on your butt is something you’d want to take polaroids of and keep them hidden away in your room forever.

he groans and tugs your body closer to his, hiding his face in your neck and squeezing the soft flesh covered in his clothing. “you look so good in it.” he mumbles, and you can’t help but laugh at his frustration caused by a simple action.

it was quite a frequent occurrence, really. him getting so loved up and frustrated over stuff you do or over you as a person in general.

you remember the first time it happened. it was towards the very beginning of your relationship. he bought you a lot of new makeup products for no particular reason other than just to make you happy (and maybe he thought it was a very boyfriend thing to do). but there was one specific product that caught your attention. so, when chan came over to your house the day after giving you the products, you were wearing it. a dark red lipstick that smelled like roses. he noticed immediately.

“is that the lipstick i gave you?” he smiled, his hands going to rest on your hips, pulling you to him. “yea, it’s really pretty, right?” you smiled back, arms wrapping around his neck. but to your surprise, he shook his head no.

“it’s really hot.” he corrected with a smirk, leaning down to kiss you.

when he pulled back, his lips were a few shades darker and you swear you could’ve died right then and there. without thinking about it too much, you leaned close to him again and started kissing all over his face. you could hear his boyish giggles reverbating around the room. his hands squeezed your hips in an attempt to get you to stop.

when you led him to a mirror after that, he turned into a mush. you draped yourself over his shoulders and started peppering kisses down his neck now and the man just stood there not knowing where to look first.

should he admire how well the lipstick stains, the shape of your lips, really, looked on his face. or should he be staring at your face that was moving in the crook of his neck, marking him up some more. he couldn't handle it and his lipstick covered and frustration filled body turned around in your hold, going down to your neck (a very characteristic action for his love frustration surges).

and just like you did every time after that and like you’re doing right now, all you could do was laugh, hold him close and think about how incredibly lucky you were to have him as your person.

[fa1rie]

Pretty little hero

tw: implied captivity, hero getting beat up, a lot, whump, non con touch (not sexual), a kinda yandere villain, idk what else lol

➽───── ⋆｡˚˚̣̣̣͙« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ »˚̣̣̣͙⋆｡˚ ─────▸ 

Hero was lying in a slump against the wall, opening their mouth to say something witty, or at least a simple “Shut up” in response, but instead, blood came out in tiny droplets, splattering all over the wooden floor of the bed-  no, torture room. 

Hero rose up, or rather tried to, but with a swift kick from Villain in the gut, Hero was back on the floor, coughing, no… more like, hacking, growing increasingly worse. Hero clutched their side, letting out a small whine as Villain grabbed them by their shirt, lifting them up into the air, their feet dangling. 

Villain threw them back onto the ground, scoffing at the pathetic waste of space on the floor continuously wailing, sobbing, pleading, and basically, just being annoying. 

Villain sighed at the sight, as Hero’s cries grew louder, and their words no longer coherent, as they were blubbering, and blubbering, and blubbering-

“Shut up.” 

“P-please I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just, j-just stop, please, please-”

“Shut. Up.” The Villain repeated, clenching their fists. 

“S-sorry just please, ple-please don-” 

Villain grabbed them by the hair, tightening their grip as Hero let out a shriek, hitting their head against the wall, once. Twice. Thrice. And-, honestly Hero had lost count as Villain kept hitting, and hitting, and hitting, and hitting their poor head over, and over. 

Hero lifted up their arm, grabbing onto Villain’s arms, in a rather pitiful attempt to stop Villain. Villain rolled their eyes at this, pausing for a moment. They brought Hero’s head away from the wall, to slam it into the floor, however Hero had tilted over, collapsing, hitting their head onto the floor themselves instead. 

Villain scoffed, beginning to lift up their leg, however they dropped their leg, the sides of their mouth quickly turned up, and into a mechanical, almost grin as Hero’s eyes began fluttering shut, their vision growing dark. 

Hero tried to stand up once more, to preserve the tiny shred of dignity that they had left but, to their avail, they collapsed immediately, right into Villain’s arms. 

Villain’s eyes had slightly widened, yet visibly softened as they saw their dear, precious, Hero fall limp into their arms, now fully unconscious. Not Supervillain’s, not Superhero’s, not Sidekick’s, but theirs. 

Villain placed Hero against a wall gingerly, to grab, then wrap a plush set of bandages around Hero’s head, since it was the only place that was actually bleeding. Villain then lifted them up into a bridal carry, before kissing the top of Hero’s head, brushing their bangs aside. 

They left the room, walking through the endless corridors of Villain’s hous-, no mansion-, a manor rather, resembling a pristine castle. After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at Hero’s room, or rather, “Hero’s lush cell”, Villain said under their breath, mimicking Hero’s constant disapproval of being locked up in a room “against their will”. Villain let out a small sigh, before kicking the door open, and placing Hero onto an enormous bed. 

Villain grabbed the chains dangling on the bed’s headrest, clasping a separate chain around each of Hero’s arms. They moved back a bit, admiring their handiwork, contemplating whether or not they should chain Hero’s legs as well, so there was no chance of escape. Villain decided not to, however, since Hero would most definitely awaken to be very, very, dazy, given the state of their head. 

They moved forward, trailing their fingers along the countless bruises littering Hero’s soft, plush skin. Given most of them were fresh, most appeared a bright red, however a few dark purple ones also resided, especially around Hero’s wrist, which was a multitude of colors, since it was Villain’s very apparent place to manhandle. Though the Hero was extremely lean and fit, they were just so… tiny. 

Villain chuckled to themselves, as they moved down to Hero’s abs, drawing their fingers all over them. It was rather funny to Villain, that had they not drugged Hero, rendering them weak, Hero would have easily been able to attack back, and actually win. Hero was a miniscule little thing, well only to Villain really. Hero was around 5 '3, at max, which isn’t even small to most, but given Villain stood at the glorious height of 6' 3, Hero resembled as a little figurine, to the Villain. 

A gorgeous, little thing the Hero was.  

“You're so pretty…” Villain cooed into Hero’s hair, causing Hero to rustle a little, however still remaining unconscious. Not wanting Hero to awake just yet, Villain having many, many things to prepare for the Hero, they left both Hero, and the room. They slid a few bolts, and a chain while marveling to themselves just how adorable Hero would be when they awoke.

Just before they left, they peered at Hero through the peephole, letting out a soft sigh at the sight of their pretty little hero, just so helpless. 

Oh how much fun they would have the next day. 

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 12 | SR

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - after arriving in Crested Butte, things seem like they might finally be getting better between you and Spencer. But when Spencer meets a beautiful, young local, can he resist temptation?

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - brief mention of oral (m receiving) and brief mention of penetrative sex, a surprising amount of fluff, swearing.

WC - 4.4k

Chapter 12 - Better Than This

By the time you finally arrived in Crested Butte, Colorado it felt like an entire lifetime had passed since you left DC. You’d changed so much as a person in that time you weren’t sure you even recognised yourself anymore. 

Somewhere along the drive from Albuquerque Spencer had detoured off into the mountains where you watched from the car while he dug a hole in the middle of the forest and buried the body of Duncan Green. 

You’d made another stop at a pay-by-the-hour motel in which you’d showered and changed into clean clothes. And maybe during the course of cleaning yourselves up you’d found yourself on your knees for him, worshipping him with your mouth, despite the fact he didn’t deserve it. 

Driving up through the small town of Crested Butte you found yourself in awe of the quaint little place. It was nestled right into the base of the town's namesake mountains, this time of year lacking their winter snow but they were no less breathtaking. 

You drove down Elk Avenue, the town’s main street just as the sun was beginning to set. The dainty street was lined with wooden buildings of every colour of the rainbow, with eccentric signs promoting each business. Benches and trees periodically lined the kerbside and a few people meandered the street but very few cars were around. 

Spencer slowed the Nissan so the two of you could take it all in. The place was free of any big corporate chains, opting for that small town charm you found in really rural parts of America. Boutique storefronts boosted names such as Townie Books, Milky Way Boutique, Scouts General Store and the Oh-Be-Joyful art gallery. 

You spotted at least five coffee shops, with equally cutesy names, a breakfast diner called McGill’s, a surprising array of restaurants including Garlic Mike’s and Uley’s Cabin and Ice Bar and an even more impressive selection of bars. It was a small community, the kind of place where you assumed everybody knew each other’s business. Maybe not the best place for two criminals to hide out, but you could only hope Spencer knew what he was doing.

But as if reading your mind he inhaled sharply with a shake of his head. 

“Jesus Christ, everyone is looking at us.” 

“It’s like being under a microscope.” You agreed. 

“We’ll just have to be on our best behaviour, Rose.” He shot you a sideways glance. 

He turned up 4th Street which thankfully didn’t have as many onlookers and was soon taking a right onto Gothic Avenue. He pulled the Nissan to a stop outside the house at the very end of the road, shut off the engine and jumped out of the car. With a roll of your eyes, you followed him. 

He grabbed your bags and led you to the front gate. Your heart swelled in your chest as you took in the facade of the newly renovated cabin, secluded at the end of the street. 

A little cobbled path led to the house, with a neatly trimmed lawn either side. The house itself was made of rustic, dark wood, with a couple of stone steps leading up to the front porch with two rocking chairs side by side and a cute little window complete with a flower box with some beautiful red flowers blooming inside it. 

There was a black metal lockbox next to the front door which Spender tapped a code into and fished out the keys sheathed inside. He handed them to you and motioned for you to do the honours. You felt a surge of excitement and couldn’t hold back the grin from your face as you took them from him and eagerly slotted them in the front door.

The door opened into the cosy living room with hardwood floors and an exposed brick fireplace which were strangely juxtaposed against the large flat screen TV hanging on the wall. All the furnishings were miss matched which you found extremely endearing, no two cushions were the same, let alone the couches and chairs. 

To the right of the door was the open plan kitchen which was decked out with all new appliances, marble countertops and a huge double fridge. Out the back of the kitchen was the dining room with a low hanging chandelier over the table which you didn’t think would look out of place in an Arthurian castle. A bathroom was off to the side and another living room out the back, this one was much more modern yet still kept with the miss matched furniture theme. 

You followed the staircase behind the dining room up to the first floor and quickly located the master bedroom. By this point your mouth was hanging open in awe. The bedroom was large and light and airy, all white painted wood with a sloping ceiling but was still tall enough for Spencer, at just over six feet tall, to stand without hindrance. The bed was a huge king sized, with the softest looking sheets and big fluffy pillows. The light grey carpet was plush and you couldn’t wait to run your toes through it.

On one side was a built-in wardrobe and a door leading to a very modern en-suite. On the other side was a large grey armchair and double doors leading out to the first floor patio area. You ambled forward, looking much like a kid in a candy shop and pushed open the doors. 

The patio overlooked the garden and you estimated by the placement that it most likely got sun for most of the day, not that it was warm enough in Crested Butte in spring to sunbathe. It had a couple of wicker couches with more miss matched cushions lining them and a little glass coffee table. On the far side was a spiral staircase that led down to the neat backyard, which had a raised decking with more garden furniture and a fairly decent sized hot tub. 

From the first floor you had the most perfect view of the sprawling Crested Butte mountains as far as the eye could see. Your heart yearned for this place, like for the first time in your life you could breathe easily. You immediately felt at peace here, maybe you had finally found your way home. It was as though someone had plucked your ideal home straight from your brain and made it a reality. It was a flawless recreation of all your hopes and dreams. 

Spencer dumped the bags on the floor in the bedroom and watched you curiously from the doorway. He folded his arms across his chest and leant against the doorjamb while he watched the back of your head. Somehow he already knew you were smiling. 

When you turned to him, the tears behind your eyes were immediately noticeable but your lips were turned up into the brightest smile you’d ever seen. 

“How did you know?” You croaked, not daring to walk over to him.

“You’re kidding right?” He chuckled with a shake of his head. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve talked about living off the grid, in some backwater town where everybody knows your name. Quaint, you used that word a lot. Rustic. I remember once or twice you mentioned the Gilmore Girls?”

Your smile grew and you had to fight back the tears.

“You found me my very own Stars Hollow.” You felt so emotional that Spencer would do this for you. You’d genuinely started to think he didn’t care about you and that your presence was a burden to him. But how many men would do this for you? 

“Yeah, well don’t read too much into it.” He rolled his eyes. “You know it's great for me too because it's close to a ton of other states so I have a wealth of targets and small town charm has its appeal.” 

“You found me my own Stars Hollow.” You repeated as you started towards him across the patio. 

He dropped his arms to his sides but his back went rigid, a frown forming on his brow.

“What are you doing?” He grumbled when you were suddenly throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into your body.

“It’s called a hug, Spence.” You giggled, and god if he hadn’t heard you made that sound in so long. 

It melted him, truly turned him into a puddle and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you in return and hold you close. He breathed you in, mesmerised by the way you felt tucked in his embrace like you’d belonged there all along. It felt so much like old times and maybe Spencer hadn’t completely ruined things with you after all. 

This town, this cabin had been another way for him to show his gratitude towards you when he had such a hard time expressing it with words. And seeing how happy it made you caused his heart to explode in his chest. You deserved so much better than he’d been offering you lately. Something had to change. 

When you pulled back to look at him, you both kept your arms around each other and the way Spencer was looking at you was different to anyway he’d looked at you as of late. His smile reached all the way to his eyes and if you weren’t mistaken, he looked almost bashful. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen in so long and so you couldn’t help but get up on your tiptoes and place a soft kiss to his lips. 

He hummed into the kiss, large hands flush on your back and he used his tongue to tentatively part your lips. The kiss deepened but it wasn't so animalistic and frantic as usual, he was soft and almost shy, his hands not hungrily pawing at your body like you were used to. 

You gently moved the two of you further into the room until Spencer’s legs hit the bed. He pulled away from your lips and looked down with a doe-eyes stare. 

You smiled at him and nodded, motioning for him to get on the bed. He swallowed and bent down to remove the Colt from his boot, setting it on the nightstand before kicking his shoes off. He lowered himself to the mattress and shuffled up the bed until his back was against the pillows. 

He seemed nervous, such a strange change in character to the way he’d been the other times you’d been in this position. He was giving over full control to you and for once he didn’t care. 

You crawled on the bed and into his lap, knees either side of his thighs. You could feel his erection pressing between your legs but he wasn’t grinding against you or rushing you to get undressed. His hands found purchase on your hips but it wasn’t his typical firm grip, his fingers brushing lightly against your shirt. 

His lips were slightly parted, as if waiting for another kiss. You bowed your head closer to him to offer him what he wanted, and once again the kiss was much less hurried than you were used to. Spencer seemed to want to explore every inch of your mouth with his tongue, languidly venturing to commit every corner to memory. 

You placed your hands against his chest while his fingers started to knead your sides. You could feel his heart beating beneath your palm. It felt somewhat erratic. 

“Are you ok?” You whispered against his lips. 

“Very much so.” He replied just as softly. 

“Your heart is racing.” You giggled again and felt his heart actually skip a beat. 

“Because I want to tell you how much you mean to me, but I don’t know how.” He pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. “I’m…I…”

You noticed his hesitance, you knew what he wanted to say but you knew how hard it was for him. You cupped his face and stroked his cheek lovingly. 

“How about, you’re my partner in crime?” You smiled softly at him. “That can be our own little way of saying it without actually saying it.” 

He mused on it for a second, rolling his lip between his teeth before he started to nod.

“I like that.” His hand found its way to the back of your neck. “My partner in crime.”

Using his hold on your neck he pulled you close and kissed you again. Piece by piece your clothes landed on the floor until you were both naked and you were straddling his lap once more. 

You ran your fingers briefly over the uncovered wound on his abdomen, the first time you’d seen his crude stitch work. He didn’t seem to mind, offering you a slightly melancholy smile as you did so. 

This time when you had sex it was so different from the others. Spencer let you set the pace as you rode him and he looked at you with so much love in his eyes you thought you might burst. It was slow and sensual, like you had all the time in the world. 

After you both came he immediately pulled you into his arms and placed tender kisses on your head muttering over and over again, my partner in crime. 

Eventually you both fell asleep like this in your beautiful little cabin, wrapped up in a blissful blanket or adoration. Maybe you’d both finally found what you’d been searching for. Maybe together you’d found a home. 

***

The following morning Spencer woke you up by placing kisses on your neck. The two of you had sex before you’d barely opened your eyes and it was equally as sweet and sensual as it had been last night. 

You showered together in your en-suite and all the while he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and he had a dreamy smile on his lips. 

After you walked into the town hand in hand. The sun was shining but it was bitterly cold, you’d need to invest in some big sweaters or something if Spencer planned on staying here. 

He took you for breakfast at McGill’s. It was a tall, narrow turquoise building with large front windows which let the sun shine through. The two storey building was already packed with townspeople. 

A friendly older man who’s name badge announced him as Fred seated you on one of the last free tables downstairs and took your breakfast orders. Spencer held your hand across the table and still the smile couldn’t be wiped from his face. 

“This is how I pictured it.” He spoke after your coffee was brought over. 

“Pictured what?” You used your free hand to pick up your mug and take a sip. 

The coffee was like liquid heaven as it passed your lips, as if this place couldn’t get any better. It warmed your insides as it made its way down, the way Spencer was looking at you warmed your heart. 

“This. Us.” He shrugged and you swore you saw a light blush creep to his cheeks.

It was a complete one eighty from the Spencer you’d come to know recently. Just yesterday he’d been violently fucking you over the hood of the car and today he like being with a different person. This was the sweet and dorky Spencer Reid you’d worked with at the BAU, the one you’d called your best friend. 

“You thought about us? Like more than friends?” You dared to ask and his blush seemed to deepen.

“Sometimes.” He admitted. “Sometimes I wondered what it could be like. This is pretty close to how I imagined it.” 

“Me too.” You agreed. 

Your food was brought over soon after and you ate in relative silence while shooting each other the occasional smile. After breakfast you stocked up on supplies at Scout’s General Store which from the outside you thought looked more like a school or community hall. 

According to the little hanging sign in the window it was only open Wednesdays to Sundays. It sold most everything the two of you could need for the time being, all your grocery essentials which were locally sourced, it even stocked clothes, gift cards and jewellery. The one thing it didn’t seem to sell was alcohol. 

You filled up a trolley of goods, taking note of the high prices of the artisan goods and wondering if you wouldn’t have been better to drive out of town and find a Walmart. But Spencer didn’t seem phased. 

When you ambled over to the single checkout, the girl in her twenties, with fire engine red hair, didn’t even notice your presence. She was sitting cross legged on the chair behind the counter, a magazine open in her lap which her eyes were trained on. You and Spencer and exchanged a glance and he shrugged and started unloading the groceries onto the counter. 

Her eyes suddenly snapped up, bright green and large, and landed straight on Spencer. You watched the way those eyes grazed him up and down before landing back on his face and her lip quirked into a smile. 

“Well hello there.” She pushed herself to her feet, not even so much as glancing at you. “You must be new in town. I’d surely recognise a face like that.” 

Spencer pulled that tight lipped smile you knew meant he was uncomfortable as she started ringing up the items and he grabbed a few paper bags. 

“Uh yeah, arrived last night.” He nodded. 

“You look like a city boy. What brings you to a place like Crested Butte?” She kept her eyes on him and didn’t even glance down at the groceries.

City boy? You frowned to yourself. He looks like a teacher's assistant. 

“Uh, just, uh…travelling.” He shrugged awkwardly. 

“Travelling, huh?” The girl repeated like she’d never heard of the concept before. “Well welcome to our little mountain paradise. I’m Mary.” 

“Sp…” he started but quickly corrected himself. “Andrew.” 

“And I’m Rose.” You cleared your throat as you spoke. “His wife.” 

Mary glanced up at you finally, scrutinising you a little before looking back at Spencer. 

“Huh.” She shrugged. “Nice to meet you, Andrew.” 

You rolled your eyes and decided not to let it bother you. If you let yourself get annoyed by every woman who was attracted to Spencer you’d spend your whole life frustrated. 

Mary finished ringing up the items and Spencer handed her some cash, all the while looking a little like a deer in headlights. Sure Mary was cute, animated eyes, a little button nose and pouty lips. But she had to be almost half Spencer’s age, you were almost embarrassed for her. 

“I, uh, noticed you didn’t sell any alcohol here?” Spencer took the change from Mary and pocketed it. 

“You’ll have to go to Mountain Spirits just down the road.” She smiled at him and you saw Spencer swallow.

“Th-thanks.” He scooped up the bags but kept staring at the young redhead. 

You rolled your eyes and pushed him by his shoulder. 

“It’s time to leave, honey.” You spat, ushering him towards the door. 

Maybe you should have been worried. Maybe you should have considered that just because Spencer seemed smitten with you now, it was only a few days ago you caught him making out with that blonde in Edwardsville. Would you even have a right to be annoyed? Your rings were simply for show and apart from being partners in crime, the two of you weren’t strictly partners in any other aspect. 

You weren’t his girlfriend, you most certainly weren’t his wife, so what if Spencer dabbled in a little harmless flirting, if that was even what it was. Mary was not a threat, at least you didn’t think so. 

But you didn’t take into account how rapidly Spencer was able to shift between his two personalities, and that just because he seemed like the old Spencer now, it didn’t mean it would last. And you’d find yourself on the receiving end of his darker persona once more, a lot sooner than you would think. 

***

Townie Books, the olive green building just across the street from Scout’s General Store doubled as the Rumours Coffee and Tea House. Spencer had been thrilled to find they had a bookstore in town and couldn’t wait to check it out. 

You’d opted to stay at the cabin, with a nice glass of red wine you’d picked up from Mountain Spirits on the first floor balcony while Spencer strolled back into town. 

He was busy perusing the aisle, running his fingers along book spines and relishing in the smell of old books you rarely found these days. He was a little lost in the displays, and so he didn’t notice he was being watched until he turned from one rack towards another and found a large pair of startling green eyes staring back at him. 

“I pegged you as a book lover.” Mary’s eyes sparkled at him as she leant back against the shelves, looking him up and down. 

“You met me for all of five minutes, how could you have possibly pegged me as a book lover in that time?” He folded his arms across his chest, returning her scrutiny. 

“I’m really good at reading people. No pun intended.” Her lip quirked at her own bad joke. 

Oh sweetheart, you have no idea, he thought to himself. 

He’d profiled her with ease the minute he met her. Oldest of many siblings, which was why she was able to concentrate so hard on her magazine and distance herself from what was going on around her. Daddy issues, that was a given in the way she was clearly interested in a man much older than her. Maybe an abusive father, certainly absent. Mother was emotionally unavailable, probably working long hours to try and make ends meet for all her kids, leaving Mary to pick up the slack and take care of her younger siblings. 

Attention starved, she dyed her hair red in an attempt to get people just to notice her. The tattoo he could see peeking out of the top of her shirt on her collarbone only went to further prove that point. She projected confidence to hide the fact she was deeply insecure and desperately lonely. 

“Huh, you don’t say.” He nodded. 

“So,” she glanced around for a moment or two. “Where’s your wife?” 

“At the cabin.” He tried to hide his smirk. 

“If I had a husband who looked like you, I wouldn’t let him out alone.” 

Spencer felt a stirring in his groin, he couldn’t help it, he was only human and she was beautiful. 

“Duly noted.” He replied, the smirk starting to spread to his lips. “So you seem well informed, what’s there to do around here on a Saturday night?” 

“There’s a surprising amount of bars around here, but my favourite is the Wooden Nickel.” She shrugged, puffing out her chest a little and causing Spencer’s eyes to glance down at her cleavage. 

He swallowed and tried to focus himself. 

“And why is that?” 

“I work there.” She shrugged again. 

“You work there and at the grocery store?”

“Sometimes I help out here too. I’m saving up to get my ass outta here.” 

“Fair enough.” Spencer nodded, trying not to think too much about her ass now she’d put that idea in his head. 

“So I’ll be working tonight, maybe you can come and keep me company?” She took a step forward and reached for him, her long nail grazing the under side of his stubbly chin. “With or without your wife.” 

With a wink sent his way, she was suddenly turning and sauntering away and she knew he was staring at her ass as she went. Spencer fell back against the bookshelves, heart racing against his chest and a semi growing in his pants. 

He owed you so much more than this and he knew it. But he also knew he was weak and he was almost certain, given half the chance he would most defintely fuck that beautiful, young red head into oblivion. 

He watched her go, feeling light headed with arousal, knowing he was playing with fire. It was wrong for him to even be thinking such things and you deserved better than he was giving you. If he kept on like this it was only a matter of time before he lost you for good.

You were his partner in crime, he’d never forgive himself if he pushed you away but pushing you away was sometimes easier than loving you. He needed to make a change, he needed to love you better than this before he ran out of apologises and you walked away forever. 

But fuck if Mary wasn’t so goddamn tantalising. 

Wide awake on the couch,

Don't know what we're fightin' 'bout.

This isn't the first time,

Said some things I didn't mean,

Acting like we're seventeen.

I hate making you cry.

Running out of times to apologize. 

I need to love you better than this,

What am I doin'?

One more slip and I'm gonna lose you,

I got to get my shit together and love you better, yeah.

Better before you change your mind and slam the front door,

Leave me behind,

And I think I'd hate myself forever.

I need to love you better than this,

'Cause there's nothing better than this, no.

Swear to God, I'll get it right,

Won't turn my best into a lie.

I'll pay more attention,

I don't want all of this.

To turn into what could've been,

A chance at redemption.

Runnin' out of times to apologize.

I need to love you better than this,

What am I doin'?

One more slip and I'm gonna lose you,

I got to get my shit together and love you better, yeah.

Better before you change your mind and slam the front door,

Leave me behind,

And I think I'd hate myself forever.

I need to love you better than this, ooh yeah,

'Cause there's nothing better than this, no.

Shadows on the ceiling,

Like I'm upside down and feeling.

Like I don't even know me at all.

Waiting for permission,

To be everything I'm missing,

Isn't the way I planned this at all.

I need to love you better than this,

What am I doin'?

One more slip and I'm gonna lose you,

I got to get my shit together and love you better, yeah.

Better before you change your mind and slam the front door,

Leave me behind,

And I think I'd hate myself forever.

I need to love you better than this, ooh yeah,

'Cause there's nothing better than this.

No, no, no, no,

I wanna love you better than this,

Ooh yeah, ooh, there's nothing better than this, no.

I need to love you better than this.

@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @thebloomingeagle @daddy-dotcom @dreatine @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland

[uh-niran-really]

Smutsgiving: Day 1

Lifeweaver x Fem Reader - Masquerade Ball (FWPP AU)

Content: Smut, Heavy NSFW, MDI!

Word Count: 5100+

A/N: Thank you to @lifeweaver-niran for the idea! Loved writing this one! Oh regal Niran is so hottttt~ 🤤🫶🏻 Excited for Smutsgiving!

“You’re going to love the party my lady!”

“Are you sure it’s okay that I come my Prince, arent maids only there to serve?”

“As my personal guest, yes. Besides you won’t be going as a maid my lady.”

You look at him in all his regal beauty. He had such an elegance about him, he was well suited to this life, and yet had such a kind heart. He treated you as an equal, despite you being his maid. You felt as though you could be yourself around him.

He took your hand and led you to his grand wardrobe where he kept all your beautiful dresses. He loved to buy them for you and have you play dress up for him. You were such a pretty thing, such a rare beauty. Why shouldn’t he explore that?

“Which one would you have me wear, my Prince?”

“Well this year’s theme is red and black. I had one made special for the occasion. You may wear that one should you wish.”

He walks over to the rail and pulls out a gorgeous red dress with black lacy flowers embodied into the skirt. The bodice was very minimalistic with a plunging sweetheart neckline that would show off a lot of skin, but in an elegant way. The sleeves were off the shoulder and made of gorgeous black lace with red roses that were hand painted on. He thought of everything. The material was light enough for you to dance in but heavily enough for it to hold its shape. This dress was beautiful.

“Do you like it my lady?”

“It’s beautiful Prince Niran!”

He pulled out a shoe box and presented you with custom made low heels. They were a pretty black base with red lace over the top. The Prince knew that you struggled in heels, it wasn’t something you were used to, so opted for something a little lower, making it easier for you to walk in.

“I’d love to have you in high heels one day, I fear I’m rather tall for you my lady.”

You giggle fearing he was correct, but wasn’t he just the sweetest. He left you to get dressed, he didn’t like to peak, despite the obvious sexual tension between the two of you. He liked to be respectful of your body, though he clearly wanted it.

You change, neatly folding your uniform and setting it to one side. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and you’re floored. You felt pretty, hopefully the Prince thought so too. You peak back into his room and he’s sitting on his bed, staring out the window into the sun set. He looked gorgeous, though during daylight he looked ethereal. A true angelic being.

“My Prince?” You call. He looked over, gasping, quickly rising to his feet.

“You look…” Words failed him. How would he ever begin to explain how beautiful you truly looked. He bowed, then took your hand and placed a soft kiss to the back of it, looking up at you with lusting eyes before rising to his feet. “Forgive me, but words fail me. You look so, alluring, enchanting even. Goodness my lady, you’re making me swoon.”

He placed a hand to his forehead and acted out a dramatic swoon making you giggle at his silliness. Your Prince was quite the joker, though you loved him regardless.

Once he was done with the dramatics he walked to his dresser and pulled out a large box and two smaller ones. He presented you with the first small one and it was a beautiful necklace with red roses spaced out across the chain. The second box contained matching earrings, just as gorgeous.

“My Prince, you spoil me.”

“You deserve to be spoiled my lady, you are so gorgeous, I wouldn’t waste your beauty.”

He hands you the large box and it’s your mask. No masquerade ball is complete without one. It matched your dress perfectly, a perfect blend of red and black. It was the perfect way to tie everything together.

“Do you-“

You couldn’t help it. You flung your arms around his neck and held him for a few moments. The poor man was too stunned to speak. He wanted to hold you too, yet he refrained, too nervous to offend you should he go too far.

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re happy. You’ll be the most beautiful girl at the ball, my lady.”

——🪷——

There were so many people in attendance of the ball, it made you a little nervous. Prince Niran tried to stay close to you where possible but it wasn’t always attainable. You knew you’d be alone most of the night, perhaps if you were lucky you would get a short moment to dance with him when the music called for a quick partner change. That’s the best you could hope for.

You glanced at the Prince who was busy entertaining guests in light convocation. He was a very popular man, and you could see why. You wished to be in his inner circle, wanting nothing more than to dance the night away with him, and yet you were lucky to even been in attendance.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone?”

Your gaze tore away from your Prince to a young gentleman with piercing grey eyes and green slicked hair. His accent was different to most of the people here, it was a thick Japanese one, yet so charming. Prince Genji Shimada from Japan.

“Aren’t you Prince Niran’s plaything?”

“I am his mai- guest. I am the Princes guest your highness.”

You curtsy trying to be respectful, though this man was anything but. He eyed you with such intensity that you started to blush.

“Gorgeous dress. A custom piece?”

“Yes, his Royal Highness is generous.”

“Does he treat all his maids with such generosity?” He enjoys watching the smile on your face quickly fad. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. Will you dance with me?”

You glance to Prince Niran who is still engaged in convocation with a few of the gentry. Would he be mad if you were to dance with another man? It wasn’t like the two of you were together, though you wished you were. He was such a lovely Prince, and you were nothing but his maid.

“Will he scold you for dancing with me?”

“No, never.”

“So why don’t you? Come, the next song is about to start.”

He offered you his hand and you graciously accept it, eyes still glued to the Prince. The moment you did look away however he glanced at you, realising that another man was stealing you away. He and Prince Shimada didn’t get along all that well, it made him angry to see you so willingly give yourself to another. He was going to put a stop to it when he was approached by someone else.

“Your highness, I do believe you owe my daughter a dance. I am to understand the two of you will be engaged any day now.”

Lord Vaswani of Vishkar. Lady Satya, his daughter was to be the Prince’s wife someday, promised to each other since childhood. They were close and at one point sweethearts, the two deciding they there better off as friends and would only marry for title and nothing else.

“My lord, of course. You do me a great honour by allowing me your daughter’s hand. She is an exceptional woman.”

“That she is my Prince. You grace me once more.”

Lady Satya smiles at him before offering her hand. He takes it and leads her to the centre of the room to dance with her. The music began and he starts to dance with the lady, eyes firmly locked on you however. You were having a wonderful time with Prince Shimada and it made his blood boil.

“My Prince, please don’t squeeze my hand so tight.”

“So sorry my lady.. I appear to be a little out of sorts this evening.”

“Yes, I can tell. How is the proposal coming along?”

He didn’t hear her however, his eyes fixed on the way the other Prince held you, his hand much lower on your back than it should be. It angered him.

“My lotus, what troubles you?”

“My apologies. I am fine my crown jewel.”

Lady Satya wasn’t so sure. He was staring at the other Prince so intensely that she needed a way to bring him back to reality. People were starting to gossip and she wouldn’t have that.

“Kiss me.”

“Sorry?”

“Kiss me, people are watching, including our fathers. I won’t have you make a fool out of me, because you are staring at another man and his date.”

The music called him to spin her and he did so before he had to swap partners, meaning you came spinning into his arms.

“My lady.”

“My Prince.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Very much so, are you your highness?”

“I am not. I’d much rather be attending to… other matters.”

His heart ached for you. His true love. The one he truly wanted. He wanted to kiss you so badly, to lay claim to his pretty little maid. He almost did, forgetting himself, but the music changed again and Lady Satya was back in his arms.

“You don’t want to kiss me do you?”

“Not here. Must I show my love so publicly.”

“We are to be wed, it would be strange if you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that.”

Lady Satya glanced your way, noticing your pretty dress. The embroidery on the gown subtly matching the lapels on his suit and the bottom of his cloak. She gasped.

“You.. you’re in love with another?”

“I.. am.”

“What of me? Do you not think of me?”

The Prince said nothing, fearing judgment, but she wouldn’t let this go. He spun her out again, this time she twirled back to him and lay flush against his chest. They swayed for a while, her heart pounding in her chest.

“It’s almost funny my Prince. She almost looks like your maid.”

His face told her all she needed to know. The way his eyes widened ever so slightly. His body tensing, before relaxing. The subtle hitch in his breathing.

“Are you cheating on me with your fucking maid?”

“We aren’t together my lady, it wouldn’t be cheating. For the record no, I am not sleeping with my maid.”

“But you want to don’t you? You are to propose to me, that’s fairly serious. I would consider this infidelity.“

“She is none of your concern. I simply do not wish to be with you romantically. If we marry, it will not be for love. You know you. You agreed.”

“Then why don’t you pay attention to what your precious maid is doing right now. You’re pathetic.”

She stormed off the dance floor leaving the Prince to glance back at you, your face inches from Prince Shamada’s. The Prince had been trying to kiss you for sometime, part of you almost wanting to. He saw red storming over to you and the other man, hands shaking with anger.

“Do forgive me, but I will be taking this young lady wirh me. She is my maid and I require her services.”

The Japanese Prince shrugged and gave your hand to Prince Niran, who immediately took it, dragging you away to a private room.

“My Prince?”

He said nothing, silently brooding. He feared he would snap at you so remained silent as he opened the door for you and gestured for you to go in.

“What can I assist you with my-“

“I can’t stand it. I can’t stand to see you with another man. I won’t stand for it!”

“My Prince I-“

He shot you a look, silencing you. He didn’t wish to scold you, he just needed time to process his thoughts. You made him feel things that no one had ever made him feel before. He was yearning for you. His mind racing with thoughts at a million miles an hour, all you could do was stare at him.

“I- I- don’t want anyone else to have you.”

“You think too highly of me.. I am a lowly maid.”

“I don’t think highly enough.”

He paces around the small room, hands in his hair, almost tearing it out. He thought of lady Satya and how she reacted to it all. He thought of the Shimada Prince and his hands all over you. It made his blood boil. Did he not love you enough? Was it not obvious you were his? He was starting to loose his mind. He needed to mark you as his.

“Must I claim you more than I already do my lady?”

“I.. I do not know what to say my Prince.”

“I need you to understand you are mine. Do you get that?”

“I am.. your maid.”

“No you don’t understand.. how can I make this clearer..”

An idea sparked in his mind. He tried so hard to push it out but it was too good of an idea. He needed to get his stress out. He could not stand it anymore. He looked at you with such hungry eyes, such lust.

“I’m going to have to make love to you.”

“My Prince..?”

He watched as your eyes widened at the statement. He felt a little bad, but he was lusting for you. He needed you. He was tired of waiting for his feelings to go away.

“You don’t like that idea?”

“It’s not that my Prince. It’s just.. are you sure you want this?”

He stood before you, looking down at your pretty frame. He loved to look down at you in this angle, he could see right down your dress and it only made the lust for you deeper. His eager hands fingered the ribbon on your bodice, wanting to tear it apart, though he refrained.

“I’m not hearing a no my lady.”

“It wasn’t a no, simply a talk through my Prince. What are you wanting from this situation?”

“To make you mine. I feel so feral around you my lady.. you.. do such dangerous things to my heart.”

“Your cock too by the looks of it.”

“Naturally.”

——🪷——

“Oh my! You’re so tight!”

He had you against the wall, strong arms hooked around your legs, at your knees, keeping you spread for him. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, the wall keeping you steady as he forced his thick girthy cock inside you.

“I’ve been thinking of you for so long, you’re so much better than I ever could have imagined! The gods made you for me!”

Your body trembled against him as his cock slid in deeper and deeper still. He was slow and gentle, not wanting to cause you any pain, he had the upmost respect and care for your body. You weren’t a virgin, but it had been a while, your last being a stable boy in a horse pen.

“Uhh! There!”

“Too much?”

He began to pull back but you whimpered for him to stop, begging for him not to. He flashed a cheeky smile, teasing you for wanting him so badly. He was happy to give you what you wanted how ever you wanted, he moved his hips forward again, delighting in the low moan you gave him so willingly.

“I envy the man that came before me. I bet the feeling was dizzyingly good.”

“It didn’t feel that good to me my Prince.”

“No? Do I make you feel good my lady?”

A small blush crept across your face and you hid against his chest. With no hesitation he kissed the top of your head, pressing you lovingly against the wall.

“Can you take the rest of me, my naughty little Princess?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, wanting you to swallow him whole. You felt so good he just needed to have you wrapped around him. Sex with lady Satya was fine, but she never did let him go quite as deep, making it much less enjoyable for him.

“Yes- uhhh but I’m not a Princ- uhhhh my Prince!”

“You are MY Princess”

There was no romantic connection with lady Satya, he could hardly ever finish, needing to fist his cock after. She had a low sex drive and didn’t like to waste her time when she could just finish and move on. They only made love for the sake of an heir. But then there was you, his gorgeous forbidden lover. His pretty little thing.

“Oh gods! You feel so good!”

“I-I’m gonna..”

“Already? I’ve not even started yet, but oh my lady, that’s so attractive.”

He couldn’t believe you were going to cum from his cock filling you up. He rocked his hips forward pressing so deep inside you it had you crying out for him. Your body trembled as you gushed over his throbbing member. The pleasure so intensive, so great, you had to take a moment to calm yourself. You were grateful he had you take your dress off now, less it be ruined.

“My lady, that’s quite the compliment. I’ve never made another person cum just from having my cock inside them.”

“S-sorry my-“

“I never said it was a bad thing my sweet. It makes me want to do that to you again-“

His pulled out a little just to slam his hips forward again, pressing you into the wall with such a pleasurable force.

“and again..”

He repeats the motion, with a little more force wanting to make you squeal for him. He felt you clench your walls and grinned knowing how good he made you feel.

“and again..”

He sped up, finding a suitable rhythm to fuck you. His hips almost doing a circle motion that had you a moaning mess. His grip on your lower thighs tighten, desperate to keep you against him and the wall.

“Over and over until you’re begging for me to stop.”

“I’ll never beg for you to stop my Prince!”

He let out a needy moan hearing you say that. His heart nearly stopped. He thought of lady Satya again and how she would never allow him to do any of this. He was so grateful for you. His heart swelled with pride, lust and desire quickly taking over as he heard you cry out again and gush over his cock. The pleasure you feel, so intense you swear you would pass out.

“You cum like that often?”

“N-no.. it feels..”

“Weird?”

“No! So good my Prince!”

He delighted in the fact that he’d been the only one to do that to you. To give you such an intense reaction to him, that you’d grace him with it. He put you down making sure to hold you up, your legs weak from him, though he found that rather cute. His lips pressed against yours, a sudden tug at his heart strings making him realise just how much he was in love with you.

Your mind sparked when you kissed him back. Despite the lewdness of the current situation he really was such a gentleman. You cursed yourself for not being born in the right class. If only things could be different. Prince Niran was showing rare lustful emotions at this moment, and you dare not break that illusion, though you felt bad for lady Satya.

“My Prince..”

“Pretty.”

Your cheeks flushed as you realised he was tracing your collarbones with his fingers, loving how gorgeous your body looked. You were bewitching his beating heart, though he didn’t seem to mind.

“What of your fiancée?”

“She’s not my fiancée. Not really. I haven’t proposed to her yet, and I likely won’t.”

He was staring at you so lovingly now, you could still see the lust, but right now he needed you to know he only had eyes for you.

“But you can’t refuse her, Prince Niran..”

“I don’t love her, I love you. Was that not clear to you my lady?”

His feelings for you were always clear, even if he didn’t say them. He didn’t need to, he treated you like an equal, he brought you such pretty clothes, and wondrous gifts. You loved him too, who wouldn’t. He was perfect. You’d be a fool to reject him now.

“She’ll be terribly upset.”

“Let her cry, she means nothing to me. It’s all for show. An act. We agreed as much. My true feelings lie with you.”

He loved her once. A long time ago, but now he felt nothing. She wasn’t a bad person, she was actually his dearest friend. Her feelings for him came and went, depending on the situation. In public she was very much in love with him, yet in private she couldn’t care less it seemed.

“My Princ-“

“Niran.”

“Hmm?”

“Call me by my given name. You flatter me, truly, but when we’re alone like this, call me Niran.”

“Prince Niran I-“

“Just Niran, sweetness.”

His lips were on yours again, the kiss deep and rough, his lust for you taking over once again. He didn’t want to think of lady Satya. He didn’t want to think of another man touching you. He didn’t want any of it. Just you. It fuelled him with rage to think of it. He needed to get it out of his head.

An idea pulsed to life in his mind, one that he couldn’t ignore. It was pulled from the depts of his mind, but it would solve it all. If only you would let him do such a thing to you.

“My lady, I fear I have found a solution to our problem, one that my mind can no longer disregard.”

“Yes my Prin- Niran..?”

The look he gave you now made you tremble. You thought your risky meet up was over. You thought he would dress and go back to the party but oh no. Instead he picked you up, and carried you over to a grand table and sat you at the edge, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

“I’m going to have to breed you. Ahh such a pity.” His tone at the end obviously sarcastic.

“Br-breed me? But my Prin- Niran you can’t do-“

“I am your Prince, you will do as you are told my lady. You will submit to me because I see you fit to do so.”

“Y-yes but.. I only fear a pregnancy will raise questions.”

“You are already mine, let them ask questions.”

The idea was wild and out of left field, and yet, you found yourself wanting it to happen. He stared at you with his big doe eyes, waiting to see if you objected to this. He wouldn’t force himself on you, this man was all about consent, despite what he had just said.

“Ok.. what would you have me do highness?”

“Nothing. You needn’t do a thing. Just lie back and take me. You’re a good little maid aren’t you, you can take my messy loads.”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl, I’m going to get you pregnant so no one else will have claim to you. You are mine and mine alone. On your back.”

You do as you are told and quite quickly, laying down against the mahogany table. He was rather tempestuous like this. You found yourself getting excited and he clearly noticed too.

“You’re turned on by this? Oh my, that’s rather fortunate hmm. Has my maid always been so promiscuous, or do I make you that way?”

You surprise him by spreading your legs for him, he needn’t do it himself, but you worried you would come across as too desperate. It’s not an untrue statement, you really did want him in every way imaginable.

“You make me this way..”

“That’s the only answer I will accept. Can’t have my personal seed vessel aroused by others now can we?”

“No.. never. I am yours to do with as you see fit.”

He gave a small flirtatious smoulder. He could paint you this way, he so loved to paint. A true artist who could see your beauty. You were the most beautiful girl in at the ball, and he made no exaggeration about that. His touch felt searing hot against your skin. The way he gripped your inner thighs to hold them in place. The way he pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance. The way it felt as he burrowed his way inside you again. The string of moans that danced off your tongue was music to his ears.

“We’ll have you stretched and use to me in no time my lady, do not worry. Soon you’ll feel better. Am I too big for you to handle like this?”

“No my Prince.”

“Just Niran is fine, pretty thing.”

He rolled his hips forward and couldn’t help but let out a moan with you. The way you felt against him was blissful. Such a tight hole for him to fill, and fill he would.

“Niran!”

“That’s it, you’re learning. Such a good girl aren’t you?”

He was practically fused to you, it felt so amazing. Each deep thrust so agonisingly slow, you felt as if you would burst at any moment. His hand found yours and he weaved his fingers with your own pinning your hands against the table. Despite his words, his actions were so loving. His talk only for show, and yet you loved it. He steadily started to drive deeper and at a quickened pace, cooing at you as you moaned his name. He felt his own pressure build wanting nothing more than to blossom inside you.

“Take this as a sign of my love for you!”

He gasped, such a guttural sound, one that you wanted to hear again. His hips bucked as he released the first load inside your needy little hole. You moaned softly at the feeling, such a strange sensation and yet you didn’t hate it.

“First time? Hmm well first of many. Don’t think you are getting a break.”

“Use me how you see fit.”

Something inside him snapped. He wasn’t used to hearing his polite and respectful maid talking so dirty. He let go of your hands, moving them to grip your thighs tighter. After a few thrusts he pulled you closer to him, pushing deeper inside you as he did. A soft cry left your lips, quickly followed by another and another has he pounded against your small frame. You could feel yourself pop, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you came for him for a third time, and yet you got no break. He was like a man starved.

“You take me so well! Are you sure you don’t sleep with others, you’re almost too perfect to be so inexperienced! Gods you feel so tight!!”

Words failed you. What could you do but gasp as the overstimulation causing you to cum for a fourth time. You practically screamed his name as you clenched your walls around him, bringing about his own release.

“Good girl, take my load.” He panted, slowing down to regain his composure just a little. He could go like this for hours, granted he pace himself correctly. Soon he was repeating his actions like a little ritual. Soft and gentle thrusts turning into deep forceful ones. “I’m not done yet. I’m going to fill you to the brim. You are mine.”

“Yours! I’m all yours, please my Prince! Please Niran!”

“You’re so cute when you’re needy, I fear I may take you like this every night.”

The thought of him doing so was enough to have you cumming again, much to his amused delight. He’d never had lady Satya doing this, and what a loss for her that was. She never stuck around long enough for him to try. She never wanted love making, just an heir for the sake of the bloodline, so why would she stay? But you, you’d do anything he asked of you. Such a good little maid.

“Would you like that? Me taking you like this nightly. Oh the fun we would have.”

He was chasing another orgasm now and it was making him delirious. He couldn’t help but picture you in his bed, cum dripping from your entrance as he cuddled up close to you after a night of passionate love making. The thought was enough to tip him over the edge shooting another load into you before collapsing onto your body with a low grunt. You came too, the pleasure so dizzying it felt good.

“I’m spent. Sadly, I don’t think I pleasured you enough.”

“Niran, my Prince, I came roughly five times. I’m not sure who wouldn’t find that pleasurable.”

“Hmmm that’s true. Think you can handle another?”

Your words seemingly spurring him on again, the thought of his seed dripping down your thighs was enough to make him dizzy.

“Anything to please my future King.”

——🪷——

Everyone seemed to stare at you both. There had been talk of the Prince disappearing suddenly. Poor lady Satya practically lost her mind over the news of him being missing. She cared for him, and was worried her words upset the royal man.

Many people questioned why he was flushed and sweaty with messy looking hair. People also started to make the connection between the two of you.

“Oh do not be concerned. This is my maid, she’s been helping me with my research and things got a little out of hand.” He would then put his hand up to cover his lips, as if telling a secret, whilst he whispered. “We had to run to and from the lab to check on things. So close to a breakthrough, you understand.”

His words did enough to convince the gentry, all except for lady Satya who felt betrayed, though he paid her no mind. You shuffled around awkwardly after the Prince. He commanded you to stay by his side the whole time until the ball was over.

“My Prince..”

“Yes my lady?”

“I can’t hold it in anymore.”

He checked his pocket watch and stifled a giggle. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it quickly, hoping not too many others would notice.

“You did so well, but if you can’t hold it I guess you’ll just have to let it leak down your gorgeous thighs.” He whispered, mischief in his voice. “Fear not my princess, I’ll personally clean you up later.”

He watched as you relaxed your body, a soft whimper leaving your lips. He could only imagine how much of his seed was running down your thighs. By your reaction, it seemed to be a lot. He stopped counting the loads after a while, heaven knows how much was wasted from the overflowing but he hardly cared.

“You could have at least allowed me to wear my panties.”

“Perhaps, but wheres the fun in that, my lady?”

[starlit1daydream]

CLASSPECTING RED GUY: DHMIS and the aspect of Breath

So, Red was technically tied for first with Yellow in the poll I made, but given that I had more clear ideas for Yellow I elected to make this first. Now I've taken some time to think over Red's classpect, I think I'm confident about my answer.

Red's characterisation hinges on two key factors, I think.

Factor one: Red Guy is disaffected, apathetic and bored. He seems to enjoy doing nothing, to the point where he gets frustrated when his plans of doing nothing are scarpered. Red Guy is lazy.

Factor two: Red Guy always seems to want to leave wherever it is he is. He never belongs. Consistently, throughout both series, Red Guy has the urge to depart the most frequently.

With this, it's pretty clear what Aspect he's bound to? Red Guy furthers the narrative, is in constant pursuit of freedom, and remains avoidant and detached throughout it all. He's a very clear Breath-bound, and I'm irritated it took me this long to realise it.

Red Guy's desire for escapism and refusal to fit into boxes comes into play particularly during the Family episode, which serves as a little mini-arc for him, I feel. He seems to like the idea of family, connection and 'belonging' (a very Blood-coded idea), but finds very quickly that he's not cut out for it and is rejected outright by the people he seems to think he belongs with. It happens again in the Dreams episode of the TV show. Red's among those whom by all accounts he should conform with. They're quite literally carbon copies of him... but he doesn't connect.

So, what Class does this place him as? What do you give to a player who has quite literally been rejected by their opposing Aspect? I'm going to pin him as a Seer of Breath. He has the stubbornness, argumentative nature and self-destructive nature that most Seers have, for sure, particularly Rose. Much like Rose, he begins without his Aspect and disregards it (lacking in freedom, adhering to Blood rather than Breath) and his quest begins once he starts searching for it. Once he has his eyes on the Aspect, he is relentless in his thirst for knowledge of it. Red, like Rose, rejects the role given to him by the higher powers (Roy & SBURB) in the name of something greater and desires to destroy what's been laid out in front of him. And, as you can see in Transport, that's what he does.

Ultimately, Red's motivated wholly by desire to understand Breath in the name of others, working tirelessly to free himself and his friends from the chains they're bound by. And, of course, in the web series narrative he grants them that freedom.

There's an alternative reading for sure that Red is a Thief of Blood - not understanding the value of Blood whilst continuing to crave it and obsessively hoard it, but Thieves aren't really known for ghosting their opposite and he doesn't really strike me as being selfish or callous enough to be a Thief. Plus, the Breath in his characterisation outweighs the Blood significantly.

Finally, I'll be going over Duck Guy for June 19th, as a player of Doom. Don't miss it.

[devieuls]

Obsession

Keigo Takami  x Fem Reader ¡ smut !

Warnings: masturbation, porn addiction, cam girl, overstimulation, masturbation in the workplace, teasing, a little bit of materialism, Hawks Dom, fake femme fatale eroticism.

Synopsis: Japan’s #3 hero has no time to date women or to fuck them for fun, so he throws himself into the world of cam girls, beautiful and erotic girls doing things for money, there he will meet you for the first time, becoming obsessed with you and you... with him

Length: 2K+

First part of.....???

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Hawks was certainly not new to cam sites, he often used them as an alternative to porn when he needed to masturbate and watch some pretty face while he was cumming.

He certainly didn't miss women, they fell at his feet like leaves from trees in autumn, but he didn't want to vent his cravings with a crazy fan or a horny milf of fresh meat. If he had a woman, he would have treated her like a Queen before taking her to bed, not just to vent a momentary craving, he wasn’t the kind of man who used women to throw them away like garbage.

This was one of the many reasons that led him to masturbate in his office when he had to relax, hidden from prying eyes and unwanted attention, while watching pretty girls touch themselves and showing off for money on the cams. He didn’t like porn very much, it was too fake for his taste and sometimes he could also sense the discomfort in the woman who had to follow a signed scene

Later that afternoon, he had a break from his busy schedule. Being a hero was as beautiful as it was stressful, especially if you are the n.3 and you are the young age of 22 years. So he gave himself a moment of leisure with his long neglected intimacy.

Sinking into the comfy chair he typed "cam girl" on his expensive laptop, finding an ocean of sites promoting 'insured fun', but it was one that caught his hawk-eyes " SinfulAngels ".

He didn’t know if it was for the name that contained "Angel " or for the "sin" " who followed him, but became so curious to choose him and enter the site.

From the beginning he could see a lot of live shows of pretty girls trying to attract the attention of the audience through skimpy dresses or sex toys. Things he used to see in these kinds of broadcasts. Yes, the girls were pretty, but no one particularly took his attention... Until a notification appeared in the corner of the screen, "Miss_Desire is now live". Intrigued he clicked the notification and it was there that he saw you. The live already with 3K of people connected, writing in comments and making donations on donations.

You wore red lingerie, ridiculously provocative and sensual, that wrapped your body leaving strategic points uncovered; a body harness made of scarlet leather and chains wrapped the top, connecting to a chocker with "Desire" written on it; The hair lightly collected in a high tiled tail, leaving some strands on your face; Light and provocative make-up, with a red lipstick that made your lips inviting.

Hawks was enchanted at your sight, feeling a familiar tingling between his legs, getting comfortable in the chair and watching you greet the audience. You were, in his eyes, a mix of erotic and angelic, the perfect girl for a site with such a name.

You lay on your stomach while reading some comments left by donors, modest figures but surely appreciated by you. You were starting to warm up with your fingers in your underwear.

< Easy with the chat guys, I can not read you all if you are so fast, slower, mh? > You giggled with a deep voice, you loved to see all those men who turned on the least thing you did. Keigo tried to donate, but the site forced him to create an account first, which he did promptly, both to interact with you and to get your attention. It was the first time he felt the need to be noticed by someone.

The donation system was almost easy to understand:

Roses: low-level donations, the price started from 10¥  to a maximum of 99¥  .

The stars: donations of intermediate level, price between 100¥  and 499¥  .

The fires: high-level donations, the prices were between 500¥ +.

You put yourself together when you got the notification of a donation of 500¥ , making many small fires appear on the screen. You smiled biting your lip reading the name of the donor, a certain "Your.master".

< O-Oh, we have a high player among us... Tell me, my sweet master, what can I do to thank you for the donation? > your voice was playful at first. You loved high-end donors, the ones who had no problem paying big bucks to see you do erotic things for their pleasure. You made fun of them, you knew it was part of your charm, and that made you feel powerful. You weren’t for sale to men, they were slaves to your erotic beauty.

Hawks smiled maliciously at seeing you so confident, imagining what it would be like to see you in real life, appropriating your boldness and your confidence. His wings trembled at the thought of touching your skin caught in some erotic lingerie, imagining it smooth and soft to the touch.

  Your.master: “ Use a vibrator to play with your pretty pussy"  he wrote frantically, leaving a warm sigh. He was already feeling tight, which made him slightly nervous.

In the structure there were still his employees and sidekicks. Who knows how inappropriate and dangerous it would be if they caught him masturbating in front of a screen for a camgirl. Yet another thrill shook his back and he simply sent one of his feathers to lock the door, hoping not to be questioned about burrocratic things.

You laughed at his request, it was something you had done before, but never for such a sum of money, surely exaggerated. You didn’t object and got out of bed, going to a shelf attached to the wall, moaning while looking for the suitable vibrator to give you pleasure. When you found it you went back to the bed that was placed right in front of the cam, you sat with your legs open and took a deep and calm breath.  

Hawks licked his lips seeing you in that position, dressed in lingerie and chains, God would have thrown you on that bed in front of everyone, making you forget you were live and working. Filling you up, getting drunk on him...

< You’re new. I’ve never seen you before, master > you mumbled the title provocatively, making Hawks tighter and tighter in those cargo pants he was wearing. < Naked or dressed? > you asked nicely, while activating the vibrator in your hands.

Your.master: I am new and wanted to pay homage, anyway babybird dressed.

< I love homage...> your tone was mischievous and provocative, alluding to much more. Hawks' head was already flying with imagination.

You bit your lower lip, starting to press the toy on your pussy, panting slightly and moaning with pleasure. Your head fell backwards as your chest swelled to recover air, your eyes closed and your fingers fiddling with the object between your legs. Hawks unbuttoned his pants and unzipped releasing his already hard cock. He took off a glove with his teeth, throwing it on the desk, then began to massage his cock to seek relief.

< Little perverts... mhh... are you touching for me already? Take it easy, I like to see you exasperated by my body > you said between the moans and grumbles, making you even more erotic in the eyes of the Hero. Something in those words sent a wave of blood over his cock, causing him to ache in need.

You arched your back when you hit your still covered clit, squeaking with pleasure, leaving the vibrator at that point. You swear with pleasure as the chains rattled on your chest because of your spasms. Began to sway your hips to relieve the tension that was building up inside you. Your free hand squeezed on the sheets, pulling them to find a comfortable hook for that fire that was eating you inside.

Your.master:  Babybird... I need you to hold on a little

Hawks did not know how hard he could write on the keyboard, as his other hand had already begun to move to relieve him while his eyes were mesmerized by your body movements.

He found the sounds you left so damn exciting, the way your legs were shaking for pleasure, your wheezing, the little twitching you were having when you hit a sensitive spot. He was already so drunk on you, after so few minutes.

His  hand was moving faster and faster around his aching dick, breathing heavily and holding back the hoarse moans, while you tried to resist the need to cum in your expensive lingerie. You had to satisfy the requests of a good suitor like him, No one has ever offered you so much money immediately, especially to do something so innocent compared to other requests.

Hawks was eager to cum, yes, but he respected women, even those who did an erotic profession like you. He didn’t want to see you naked right away, so he thought, even though a voice inside him told him he would be jealous if everyone looked at your pretty pussy. As if they hadn’t seen her before him..

Your face was red and tired, your mouth open as you moaned louder and louder, drooling a little with pleasure, your eyes ajar and watery as you tried to keep your legs open and not come. Such sweet torture for your already wet pussy but a heavenly view for the blond on the other side of the screen. He felt closer and closer and when he wrote you could come, you released yourself against the vibrating object and on your fingers, soiling the bottom of your underwear. Your orgasm was so strong and intense that it made Hawks cum too.

He leaned his forehead against the glass desk and sighed heavily, it was intense enough that masturbating in front of a live, so intense that he felt slightly dirty inside, but he liked it. Her face was slightly red due to orgasm and shortness of breath due to the multiple times she had held her breath for watching you, her eyes slightly tired and her balls definitely a little emptier than before.

Your.master donated 1000 ¥

You crawled back, still shaking for the orgasm, to the computer to read the notification, you couldn’t believe it. All that money to stay fully dressed and use a vibrator. You just assumed before, but now you were sure, You should have held on to that boy. You know, your golden goose.

Your.master : You were fantastic, nightingale.

< Someone is really spoiling me between compliments and donations, beware my dear followers, there is a new opponent in live >  giggles ironic, then back slightly serious. < Anyway, thank you, master > 

Your voice was still broken by your orgasm, slightly weighted but always deep and sensual. An unusual stamp for a cam girl, as many pointed to infantilism and pretending to be innocent and angelic, almost golden.

The hero loved the character you played, was already obsessed with it, fucking real, erotic and to eat...

He was already ready to make more donations, asking for more things to do for him, but someone knocked on his office door and forced him to leave your live show. He cleaned up the mess he had made with some wipes and handkerchiefs, trying to pick up all his cum, then cleaning his wet dick and fixing his hero uniform, returning completely professional.

He sighed slightly frustrated at not being able to see you again and sent one of his feathers to unlock the door, then snapped a < Forward. > slightly too sour for his usual friendly tone.

At that moment he would kill his secretary who brought him some documents, but remained calm while she timidly explained some things about his agency and future events. Not knowing that his mind was still on your red lingerie and vibrator that he so envied for touching you down there.

God, he already wanted to hear your voice again and see you still basking in bed, clutching those sheets... who knows what it would have been like to fuck you, making you feel all its greatness inside. Would you have tightened the sheets like that? would your legs have shaken?

He knew, he was almost certain.

He knew himself too well to lie to himself. He was obsessing over you, slowly, but he was.

Hawks, hero #3, a prodigy who climbed the podium effortlessly, was obsessed with a cam girl whose name he didn’t even know. Pathetic.

-----------------------------AUTHOR'S NOTES ---------------------------

Maybe this will be a mini-series, I’m already going to write the second part, but I don’t know how many parts will come out and when they will come out. I hope you enjoyed this first part.

- Mel

[accidentalspaceexplorer]

April Monthly Recap

(So it turns out I wrote this and completely forgot to post it...whoops!) April was pretty successful - I read a lot of books I enjoyed, and I completed my calling in the Magical Readathon. My favorites this month were all sequels, in either the Kushiel's Dart universe or in the Toby Daye universe. (My month was 63% sequels!) My least favorite was Air Awakens, which I DNF'd pretty early on.

A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters: 4.75/5

Emergent Properties by Aimee Ogden: 4.5/5

The Marquis Who Mustn't by Courtney Milan: 4.5/5

Read It and Weep by Jenn McKinlay: 3.75/5

Kushiel's Scion by Jacqueline Carey: 5/5

Kushiel's Justice by Jacqueline Carey: 5/5

The Strange Case of the Alchemist's Daughter by Theodora Goss: 2/5, dnf

Air Awakens by Elise Kova: 1.5/5, dnf

Games of Command by Linnea Sinclair: 3/5

Chimes at Midnight by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

The Winter Long by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

A Red-Rose Chain by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

Once Broken Faith by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

The Brightest Fell by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany: 2.5/5, book club

Mislaid in Parts Half-Known by Seanan McGuire: 4.25/5

Night and Silence by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

The Unkindest Tide by Seanan McGuire: 4.75/5

A Killing Frost by Seanan McGuire: 4.75/5

The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles by Malka Older: 4/5

When Sorrows Come by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

Be the Serpent by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

Sleep No More by Seanan McGuire: 5/5

The Bridge Kingdom by Danielle L. Jensen: 4/5

Can You Keep a Secret? by Sophie Kinsella: 3/5

That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon by Kimberly Lemming: 2.5/5

Honey & Spice by Bolu Babalola: 4.25/5

Goals below the cut:

Complete series: +1 for the year! (started 2, caught up on 3)

Catch up on backlists: 22 (+1, although if I added Seanan McGuire to the list which I very well might do then it'll be +11 more lol)

Read FIYAH/Nebula/Hugo finalists & awards: 3 book (+2)

Read down TBR: (hard to tell what it was at the beginning of the year, but in August it was 1332) at end of April it's 1460 (still getting bigger...)

Read old top-of-TBR list: 1 (+1)

[divinemare]

Legend of a Mortal Love

┊ ➶ rhys x oc

┊ ➶ part four

part three

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"I can't believe you're doing this," Tara grunted again, rubbing the dirt off her hands so hard they turned red.

"I already explained, I had no choice but to say yes," Ariadne sighed, tired of the fight they'd been in for ten minutes now.

"Yes, but you're getting too much into something dangerous, something very dangerous!" The redhead sent a splash of water flying towards Ariadne’s face as she hit the puddle of water with her hands.

"What do you want me to do, tell the princess no?" Ariadne was getting extremely tired of her friends' attitude, and considering they hadn't made enough work to eat today, she was in neither the mood nor the physical condition to argue anymore.

"Ari, I just want to take care of you. You know damn well for who this is going to end bad, and let me tell you, it's certainly not going to be for them. You'll end up hurt, or worse, dead."

Ariadne rose from the floor with a grunt and an exasperated roll of her eyes.

"When I need you to tell me what's good for me or not, I'll tell you. Don't think me so stupid, Tara," and with that she left to lie down in her sleeping space, rolling over so she wouldn't see Tara when she came to lie next to her.

The place on her wrists where her chains had been a few minutes ago felt sore from wounds accumulated over the years that had never had a chance to heal. Ariadne had grown so accustomed to them that the few moments when she did not have them on her felt weird. Of course, their absence was replaced by those on her ankles, which would make it impossible for her to run. Not that any human could outrun a High Fae, with or without chains.

Ariadne had trouble sleeping that night, with the whole conversation with Tara replaying in her mind. Yes, she was well aware of the mistakes she was making, and the fact that there was only one possible outcome to her situation, and it was certainly not a pretty one.

It was one that would end her when Rhysand and the other High Fae’s got tired of her, when she stopped being interesting and started to become a liability. They weren't bad people, maybe, but still, there was no possible way Ariadne was going to get out of this alive.

And, being honest, would that be so bad?

༺ ♡ ༻

"And remember, if you get dizzy or anything, let me know, okay?

Too late for that, Ariadne had begun to grow dizzy as she stepped out into the open night and into the Lady of Night's view.

She nodded to Rhiannon, not daring to look up and see the female’s hazel eyes digging into her soul.

Rhiannon's mother's voice had sounded so sweet when she greeted her children, but Ariadne only needed to glance up and see her great bat wings, the black diamond tiara on her head and the shimmering black dress, to be instantly intimidated and lower her head again.

Then Rhysand had arrived, and from being dizzy, Ariadne had stopped breathing altogether and felt as if she would sooner faint than reach Velaris. His piercing, relentless purple gaze on her did nothing to calm her nerves, but only increased them with each passing heartbeat.

So, yes, she didn't feel dizzy, but rather physically ill.

Rhiannon held out her hand and Ariadne was not quick enough to grasp the situation.

One second, she was outside the Moonstone Palace, and the next, the world began to change so rapidly around her that it became impossible to find her ground. The chains weighed so heavily on her wrists that it seemed as if she was going to sink into this endless spinning of the world around her.

Just when she was beginning to beg the Mother to end it, it finally did. Everything stopped, the moon light and the wind hit her face so hard she had to gasp for breath.

She fell backwards, stumbling against the chains and the sickness that hit her so hard she didn't have time to take in the city in front of her.

A pair of arms caught her before she fell to the floor and embarrassed herself any further. At first, because the world was still spinning around her, she thought it had been Rhiannon, but then, as the arms felt muscular and much bigger against her, she realised that they couldn't possibly belong to the female.

Ariadne opened her blurry eyes and was instantly greeted by the black sky and the thousands of bright stars, and then by a purple gaze unlike the one she was used to in the palace kitchens. No, those were like a living night sky, full of secrets, but more beautiful than anything else.

"Are you all right?" Rhysand smiled sideways as cheekily as he could.

"Perfectly...", but her lies were stopped instantly by the gagging sound that came from her mouth.

Ariadne put a hand to her mouth with embarrassment written all over her face, as Rhysand smiled so simply again and laughed so lightly that the sound vibrated through her body.

"Always lying to me, aren't you?" His deep, cheeky voice sent shivers down her spine.

"I'm not lying, I've been through a lot worst than nausea."

Ariadne released herself from his grip and swallowed her nausea. The confident expression on Rhysand's face changed to a strange frown. But Ariadne paid him no mind as she returned to Rhiannon's side.

"You can look up now. My mother has gone to see my father."

She took a moment to consider it, still not feeling entirely well from the whole winnowing thing, nauseous enough to threaten to make a gruesome scene for Rhysand to once again discover her façade.

So she waited a couple of seconds before slowly raising her head from the perfectly cut grass. The scene before her took her breath away, and the nausea.

Ariadne had always loved the stars, they were the only escape she had in the Court of Nightmares, and she had always thought them beautiful, but this, this made her lungs ache for breath. It was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. The mountains that seemed to touch the sky, the river that reflected the stunning night. The small town, full of light and life, and the stars, oh, the beautiful stars.

"Welcome to Velaris, Ariadne," Rhiannon murmured behind her, a pleasant smile on her lips at the look of astonishment and ease on the human's face.

Ariadne's heart was beating so fast in her chest that she had to put a hand on it to make sure it wasn't going to burst out. All the dreams she had ever had could not compare to what her eyes were seeing at that moment, none could come close to the beauty of it all, and for the first time in a long, long time, a genuine, carefree smile joined the glow above and below.

༺ ♡ ༻

Velaris was beautiful. Full of live and color and music. Rhiannon had taken her to a tour around the city, but her ultimate favorite place had been the Rainbow. The music and colors in that side of the city had been absolutely breathtaking. They had stayed there for hours, and when her feet became sore and painful, Rhiannon, noticing her tiredness, called it a night.

“We’re staying in the Town House with Rhys and his friends, and Mor as well of course. My parents are staying at the House of Wind. So you won’t have to worry, ok?”

Some mighty words said to someone who was always worrying. But Ariadne nodded nonetheless to appease Rhiannon.

“Great, so, considering we’re far away from it, and I can already tell you’re tired, we have two options. Number one, we winnow, but seeing as you didn’t took it pretty well last time, I don’t know if that’s a great idea.”

Yeah, definitely not a great idea. Just to think that they would have to winnow again to get back to the Court made her stomach twist.

“And number two?”

“Number two…we fly,” Rhiannon said in a cheerful tone, flexing her bat-like wings.

Ariadne sighed, none of those options seemed like a formidable one. Just to think about being several feet away from the ground with little support whatsoever…but on the other side, to feel again like she did winnowing…

“I guess I’ll have to take my chances with flying.”

While Rhiannon beamed happily, Ariadne frowned in an attempt of a smile, but the fear in her face was way too evident to try to hide it.

Rhiannon grabbed her by the waist, telling her to wrap her legs around her, and then shot to the sky with a powerful thud, Ariadne had to suppress a scream, and instead gasped when the air hit her hard in the face.

“Wow you’re strong,” she breathed at the ease with which Rhiannon held her.

“You’re really light,” the female laughed.

Ariadne tried not to grimace. Light was one of the only two weights among slaves: you were either light and skinny for malnutrition, or built like a tree for the hard-weight work some had to do.

The fear of flying started to lower little by little, and then it actually felt nice; the wind in her face, the city above. Then they landed, and that appreciation of the moment ended when Ariadne felt a horrible dizziness hit her and an insane amount of nausea on her throat.

Nor winnowing nor flying, she would rather stick to walking the next time.

Rhiannon guided them towards a beautiful wood and marble house. Inside, a hustle of noises rang as soon as the dark-haired female opened the door.

“Oh, there she is!” Ariadne kept her distance as a big, hulking male stepped from the antechamber and into the foyer with a smile and big, muscular arms opened.

He picked the Princess up off her feet and swirl her around. Rhiannon laughed harmoniously and much more carefree than Ariadne had ever heard her. This one must be Cassian, if Ariadne could remember for Rhiannon’s stories.

“Cass! Put me down!” Rhiannon laughed, and then, behind the male, came another one.

Less muscular and not so tall as the other one, his face was perfectly crafted, a very, very handsome male, Ariadne had to say. But there was something about him that made the hairs in her body stand to end, maybe the shadows that seemed to move whenever he did. Or the fact that that same perfection crafted in his perfect face seemed to be hiding death itself. Yeah, definitely the shadows, she had faced death too many times to be scared of it.

“Az!” Rhiannon beamed with happiness when she saw the male.

Oh, so this one was Azriel. Ariadne tried hard not to smile as she saw the male give Rhiannon such a sweet look and smile while he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. The look in his face not reveling as much sentiment as his hazel eyes, but enough that Ariadne read the feelings of appreciation in them.

“You came!” She had been so focused on Azriel and Rhiannon she had not noticed the presence of someone else beside her.

Ariadne jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, and when she turned, she saw the impossibly beautiful face of Morrigan smiling at her.

“Oh, uhm-”

“Rhi, who’s our new guest?” The big male came closer when he finally noticed her, and Ariadne began to feel a little nervous with all the looks that were on her and the Fae surrounding her. “Hello, beautiful lady, my name is Cassian, and you are?”

“Ariadne. And stop, Cass, you’re scaring her,” a voice she knew all too well sounded from the stairs.

Her hair stood on end and her throat dried when Rhysand’s figure came closer to them, his hands on his pockets, as pristine as he ever was.

“I’m not scaring her you idiot, I’m just getting to know her,” Cassian turned around to face Rhys with an indignant stare, but then turned to look back at her. “I’m not scaring you, am I?” When Ariadne shook her head slightly, Cassian raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms at Rhysand as if to say ‘told you so’.

A hilarious scene, to see such a big male doing such a childish thing.

“How’s your leg?” Morrigan asked, making Ariadne look at her again.

“Uhm, better, thank you.”

“What happened to your leg?” Cassian asked, and Ariadne cringed.

“See? Now you’ve made her uncomfortable,” Rhys said, and Cassian and him started arguing about wether or not Cassian was making her uncomfortable.

“Oh, dear Mother,” Morrigan laughed, and unexpectedly grabbed Ariadne’s hand. “Come, I’ll show you-”

The blonde stoped her words when she felt the cold of the metal around her wrists. Ariadne immediately left Morrigan’s eyes.

“I couldn’t take them off, I didn’t know how to,” Rhiannon said next to Azriel.

Suddenly the whole room fell silent, not even Cassian’s and Rhysand’s fight could be heard. And again, Ariadne felt all those stares on her, and she just wanted to curl up and disappear, it was as if all her obvious weaknesses where being pinpointed in a room full of extraordinarily perfect beings.

“I’ll help you with that,” Morrigan smiled sweetly, and took her hand again.

Ariadne wasn’t really sure of what was going on, or if she should trust all this Fae, most probably not, really, but she accepted Morrigan’s help nonetheless, it wasn’t as if she had any option anyway. She would have to trust they still hadn’t got tired of her mortality, and just as she was going up the staircase following the blonde female, she turned her head discreetly, finding that Rhysand’s violet night-sky eyes were following her every move. He gave her one of his side smirks, and Ariadne instantly got an answer to her own question, one she wasn’t entirely sure if she was grateful for, or even more concerned.

[opheliajupiter99]

Once Upon a Rapture

(I don't usually do full-blown fics for AU's, especially not human-based ones, but goddamnit this was too good an idea)

The metal floor of a long-abandoned, rust riddled hall creaked heavily under the weight of the creature that lumbered through it. A hulking monstrosity of metal and flesh, tanks hefted upon its back, with tubing running all throughout its body, and a diving suit fused to its very skin; what little was left of it, anyways. A Big Daddy, as the locals knew it, specifically a Rosie model, a rivet gun in one of its arms, that hung down by its legs, the chains wrapped tightly around each wrist producing a hideous grinding sound as they scrapped against the metal floor.

This is what became of prisoners in Rapture. In the old days, these men were enslaved to help construct and maintain the city, able to go beyond its glass walls and travel through the ocean itself. But now, they were enslaved to a different purpose, a purpose this beast was lumbering towards this very moment. Its slow, almost laborious motion came to a stop before a tall, slender vent upon one of the walls. In most cities, vents were little more than a means of way going through and the occasional rat, but here, they were home to one of the most important members of this society - at least, in regard to ADAM production, the drug that made the whole city run-round.

The Big Daddy rose a hefty metal fist and knocked twice upon the vent, the sound echoing throughout the hall. After a moment of silence, soft clunking from the depths of the vent were quickly followed by a pair of small feet swinging out from the darkness, the sight making the once yellow glow from the beast's helmet turn to green.

Out from the vent crawled a small girl, clad in a filthy green dress with a red and white checkered smock over it, the pocket of which she quickly retrieved a pair of large, circular glasses, which she put over her eyes, making her already glowing yellow eyes seem to burn even bright under the lenses. As well as the glowing eyes, she had corpse grey skin, and she held in one hand a metal needle, very clearly designed for the very purpose of being wielded by a small child, which had attached to it a baby bottle, ready to be filled with crimson liquid. She was a Little Sister, as the locals would know it, essentially drug mules, genetically engineered to gather and carry the wonder drug the city craved so desperately.

The girl looked up at the hulking beast and beamed a wide smile, stretching a bit with a soft yawn, then giggling. "Good morning daddy! Let's go to the fountain today!" She declared with a nod, turning around to begin skipping forward down the hall, humming a cheerful tune as the Big Daddy began to lumber along behind her. To the normal eye, this city was horrific, not just in terms of disrepair, but in terms of the depravity and insanity that muddled nearly every nook and cranny of its rusted streets; but to a Sister, the city was not only normal, it was beautiful! Glistening, just as it did at its highest.

The pair emerged from the hall into a much wider space, looking like at one time it was a bustling courtyard, full of hope and civilians of all shapes and sizes, the eager giggles of children and loving looks of couples, but now, was stained with blood and cracked, just as everything else. The girl happily skipped along towards the fountain in the very center, skipping right past a charred corpse and scattered bullet shells, likely from an old fight the previous day.

She climbed into the fountain and began to 'splash' about; the fountain was long since empty, but to a Sister's sight, it was in perfect condition, so she splashed about in the nonexistent water regardless, giggling and swaying her arms from side to side, still holding the needle tightly in one hand. Thankfully, the courtyard was clear of locals this morning, likely because they'd heard the lumbering sounds of a Big Daddy nearby; or they were so hopped up on ADAM they were all still asleep.

The Big Daddy simply stood near the fountain, keeping a close eye on her; beyond their Sister's, Big Daddy's held no other thoughts. He remembered nothing of his farmhouse, of his father, not even of the man he'd traveled down to this city with. None of that mattered now, all that mattered was being a father to his daughter. Nothing. Else.

After a bit of playing, lumbering from the heights of a nearby staircase signaled the arrival of a second Big Daddy, that gradually came into view as the steps creaked under him heavily. It was a different model of Big Daddy, dubbed a Bouncer, short and round in stature, upon one of its arms a large, blood-stained drill, and clutched protectively in the other was another Little Sister.

This Sister was clad in a pink, frilly dress, with ruffles at the bottom and at her sleeves, with a poofy mass of brown hair upon her head that hung over her shoulders, and the same corpse grey skin and glowing yellow eyes as the others - though her grey was a bit darker in tone, and her yellow eyes were wide all by themselves, without the need for magnification, peering out at the word with the inquisitive nature of an owl.

The Sister smiled brightly at the other pair, the girl in the fountain stopping in her splashing to look towards her and return the smile. "Can we play too?" The Sister clad in pink questioned eagerly, to which the Sister in green quickly nodded. "Yeah! Come on!" The Sister in pink squeaked excitedly, her Daddy gently letting her down, retrieving some crayons and paper from a small bag she'd attached around her Daddy's waist before rushing down the stairs with many a giggle.

From there the pair of Sister's spent most of the early morning sat in the fountain, doodling with their crayons and talking back and forth, their father's standing nearby in silence, simply watching, not even acknowledging each other. But that didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the Sister's were happy.

[sailorshadzter]

once again i woke up & decided to churn out 4,000+ words of jonsa moments. cause why the heck not.

There is a commotion outside. 

“Lady Sansa,” Brienne calls out to her, but she’s rushing out the doors, back out into the shivering cold air. The yelling grows louder now, the sound of clashing steel, and she knows the fight has spilled into the courtyard. But she’s unafraid, even as she rounds the corner, with Brienne close behind.

And that’s when she sees him.

He’s lost count now how many times he’s struck Ramsay, but his fist aches, his voice raw, as he draws back his arm just one last time. But then, as if attuned to her presence, he looks up; and sure enough, there she was. She stands there without her cloak, her red hair twisted back in a single unruly plait, face pale in the winter sun. Sansa… Her name is there on his lips, its familiar syllables lost on his tongue. He looks back down at the bloodied mess he’s left Bolton and realizes, this was not his fight to finish. So he rises back up, brushing a hand across his lips, staggering towards her. 

It’s her hands that catch him when he stumbles, steadying him on his swaying feet. “Take him in chains,” he commands the nearest soldier in Stark colors and the man springs to action, though it's apparent that Ramsay Bolton would not be rising up on his own anytime soon. “Sansa,” he speaks her name now, soft and slow, and she’s smiling upon him, her blue eyes full of unshed tears as she opens her arms to him. 

[ x x x ]

They both stand in silence when they bring Rickon by. 

“Take him to the crypt,” Jon says softly and the men nod, carrying him onwards, towards the stone steps that lead down to where the rest of their family was buried. Well, most of them, at least. “I’m sorry,” he says, softer now, those Stark colored eyes of his full of anguish when they turn to focus on her. Sansa shakes her head and reaches for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. 

Just like that, they were the last of the Stark’s. 

[ x x x ]

The knock comes to his door long after he’s already climbed into his bed, though he’s laid there for what felt like an eternity, tossing and turning. He’s been running through every moment through his head, every word that they had shared, and certainly the feeling of her soft skin beneath his lips. These feelings, the ones he’s tried desperately to squash, seem to have only grown in the last several hours. 

As he’s sitting up, the door is swinging open, and in she comes, a swirl of black skirts and rose scented hair. “He’s dead,” she announces as she sinks into the closest chair, reaching for the jug of ale that sits untouched on his table. She pours herself a goblet and offers the other to him, which he takes, sitting in the chair drawn opposite to hers. 

“Ramsay?” Jon asks, though he already knows the answer.

Sansa drains her goblet and nods, thinking back to the sound of his wretched screams. “Yes,” she says as she pours a second goblet full. She feels no remorse for what she’s done, in fact, she feels somewhat liberated by it. “Are you surprised?” She asks, turning those piercing eyes to him, rosy lips twitching with a frown. Jon shakes his head. “They once blamed me for killing Joffrey and I always wished I’d been strong enough to do it…” She speaks softly, goblet to her lips, a laugh escaping. “This time… I was.” The monster that had made her life a living hell, the monster that had taken so very much from her… He deserved what she gave him. 

He knows that this was what she needed to do to be set free from Ramsay’s clutches- all those long nights of nightmares, of fear, she could finally leave them behind her. No longer would she worry about Ramsay Bolton, for he was dead and gone, at her own hand. She had bloodied her hands, but with good reason, and he knew that this was what she needed to do, simply so she might begin to heal. He grins and raises his goblet to hers, a toast. “To the future,” he says as  their goblets clink and she’s smiling in a way he’s never seen before.

“To the future,” she echoes and they both drain their glasses. 

[ x x x ]

He wakes his first morning as King with a strange need to visit the godswood. 

Jon can’t recall the last time he entered the place, so he finds it odd, but he stuffs his feet into his boot anyways. Around his shoulders he swings the furs she had made for him and he’s slipping from his rooms, ones just down the hall from hers, forcing himself not to stop.

Once, that had been their usual path- he visiting her chamber in the morning, should she not have slept within his. Those long nights full of nightmares and fear, when she had needed him to sleep, needed him to find some sense of relief, seemed to have passed. He finds it odd, then, that he still wishes to visit her as he once had. Not having her asleep beside him or pacing before the hearth of his own rooms left him feeling somewhat empty. 

His feet lead him down the once familiar path down to the godswood, only to find the fresh dumping of snow has already been broken in by footprints. Sure enough, there she sits beneath the heart tree, taking the spot their father had once always claimed. She looks up at the sound of his footsteps and at once her face is breaking out into a smile, the morning light framing her in the most perfect of ways. “Jon,” she greets when he’s close and from this distance, he can see it seems as if she had not slept well. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says but she shakes her head, patting the spot beside her, which he takes. 

“I haven’t come to pray,” she says with a shrug, unable to recall the last time she attempted to speak with the gods. She knows that they do not listen to her. “Only to find a moment before the day begins.” Here in the godswood, she feels close to what she has lost- their father, their brothers, and her own innocence. “I suppose I should have curtsied,” she giggles a moment later, realizing only then her mistake. “My apologies, your grace.” 

Jon laughs but shakes his head. “You never have to do that,” he says with passion, for deep down, he still thinks it is she that should be in this position. Winterfell should have been hers, though he supposes, it was hers, if it was his. He had only fought for Winterfell because of her, after all. 

“Have you come to ask the gods for guidance?” She asks next, sobering, her blue eyes peering deep into his. For a moment there is nothing but silence, well, and the sound of the softly blowing wind. He shakes his head and she tilts her head, a wane smile spreading over her lips, almost as if she’s relieved to know this. “You don’t need their guidance, anyways,” she continued, leaning forward, elbows to knees, cheeks cupped into her palms. “You will be a fine king.” She predicts, knowing his capability to lead, his ability to forgive, and the vows he always keeps. “A good king,” she amends a moment later, glancing his way, red hair falling across her shoulders. 

“I hope to be,” he says, a flicker of the fear he feels crossing over his features. She’s sitting back up then and before he knows it, her hand is sliding into place over his, giving it a tender squeeze. Just like that, he feels as if he’s capable of doing anything and everything. In this moment, he hopes this peaceful feeling can only last a little while longer. 

[ x x x ]

“You’re abandoning your people!” 

You’re abandoning me! The unspoken words lay between them, a bombshell, words they both hear even when she does not speak them aloud. The lords stay silent, watching as their King and Lady stand there at the center of the room, staring at one another as if there was not another soul within the room. There’s only a few individuals within who look deeper into the stare the two share, only a few who might know what even they themselves are yet to know. 

“I’m leaving it in good hands,” Jon replies a moment later, her scalding gaze softening only ever so slightly. 

“Who’s?” She asks, her hands clutching at the folds of her gown, knees shaking. She knows why he must go, she understands the danger the Night King poses- but she cannot stop these overwhelming feelings from taking over. Her heart aches with the fear, she’s sick with it in fact, it leaves her frantic and wild. 

“Yours.” He says simply, naturally, as if there was no other option. And in his mind, there wasn’t one. 

This was how it was meant to be. 

[ x x x ]

She comes to his rooms that night without fail, throwing open the door without a knock, blue eyes blazing. “You can’t go,” she spits before the door has even swung closed, her chest tight with fear, stomach sinking with dread. 

“Sansa… We’ve been over this, I must-”

“You can’t!” She interrupts, taking a single step closer to him, reminding him of the girl he met in the tent that night before the Battle of the Bastards. “You can’t leave me like this.” There, she says it, the truth… That she is afraid that after all they’ve built together, after finding in him the family she’s longed for since those days of childhood, that it would be taken from her in an instance. That he would leave for Dragonstone and never come back to her again. 

Jon hates himself for these feelings he’s caused within her; he should have known how hard she would take it, him leaving and all. She had been alone for so long, trapped in a life of fear and uncertainty, a life without anyone who truly loved her. Now that she found that again, he was taking it away by leaving, escaping away to a place that was certainly dangerous. But he knows, as she does as well, that this was the only way to keep the North safe. To keep her safe. And Jon’s vow to protect her had not ended simply because Ramsay Bolton was dead. “Sansa…” He speaks her name softly, slowly, opening his arms to her and she comes willingly, falling against him as a soft wail escapes. “I’ll come back to you, I promise.” 

She draws back, cheeks tearstained and pale, lips wobbling as they curve around the syllables of his name. He’s kept every promise to her up until now, so why would this one be any different? If there was any other way, any chance that he could stay there at her side forever, then that would be his choice- it would always be his choice. But this is what he must do. Jon cannot explain it, but the choice there on his mind makes more sense than any other one ever has. He kisses her, without hesitation, the warmth of her lips sending him to a place he’s never been before. 

When Jon kisses her, she freezes.

Not from fear, not from uneasiness, but rather from surprise. But nothing has ever felt so right before in all of her life. So, she kisses him back, hands clinging to the front of his shirt, drawing him closer as his hand slides into her hair. He’s knocking pins from her locks, unraveling her braids between his fingers, but she loves every moment, every touch, every feeling it gives her. She’s never felt like this before, so safe, so warm, it’s indescribable. 

“Jon,” she gasping his name when they break apart, though he holds her at arm’s length, panting, grinning, wild in his gaze. Truly, he wonders just how long he’s really wanted to do that. She wants to say something, anything, but she can’t find the words. Instead, Jon is gently cupping her face, his calloused fingers gentle as they cradle her cheek against his palm, his lips curving with the smile that’s never once left his face. 

There was nothing in all of his life that had ever felt so right. 

So, he kisses her again, and as she gives in and her arms come around him, Jon knows that this alone would bring him home again.

[ x x x ]

She watches him leave with a heavy heart, but a sense of peace wraps around her, reminding her that this was not the end, but rather just the beginning. 

Jon turns and sees her standing there and he raises his hand in a silent goodbye, thinking for the briefest of moments that he might not leave. That perhaps they might just run away together, to someplace where no one knows their names, no one knows their faces. But he knows that’s not who he is, it’s not who she is, and they would come out overtop this new threat. No matter what it takes. 

He urges his horse on and then he’s gone. 

It isn’t until long after he’s faded from her sight that she turns away.

[ x x x ]

She’s standing on the battlements when the dragons streak by, belching smoke and fire as they go. But, she feels no fear- she’s faced worse than dragons, after all. The line of soldiers is many miles long and she knows somewhere among them, Jon rides, coming home to her. With him of course he brings a Targaryen queen, but that she can live with, if only he were home again. 

“Lady Sansa?”

She turns at the sound of her name, finding Lord Royce to be standing there. He offers a quick bow and she smiles fondly, for this man she’s grown to love as a daughter might love a father. He was caring and understanding, a helpful hand to her in all matters that had come abouts in the time since Jon left. “Jon was seen at the head of the line, they will be here shortly.” 

Now, everything would change. 

[ x x x ]

When he rides through the gate, the first person he sees is her. 

She’s there with a soft smile, her red hair like a beacon in the early morning sunlight. But, she is not who he greets first, because then Jon sees him, the brother he’s thought he’s lost all this time. Sansa’s letter had come some weeks ago, telling him that both Arya and Bran had returned to Winterfell, that their family was no longer incomplete, and that alone had spurred him to return quicker than he’d once anticipated he might. To see them… Those little siblings he’d thought they had lost…  Now that the moment is here, he dares not believe it to be so. 

He drops from his horse and crosses the way to wrap his little brother into his arms, kissing his head, breathing him in. This was not quite the brother he remembers, as Sansa had warned him in her letter, but it was Bran all the same. He was his brother and Jon would always be thankful to have him returned to his side. “Look at you,” Jon says roughly, emotion choking him. “You’re a man.” The last time he’d seen this boy, he’d been so small that Robb had to pick him up to put him into the saddle. 

“Almost,” comes the reply and Jon draws back, head tilting, as if he’s surprised by what’s been said to him. 

But then, he feels her gaze upon him and Jon turns to look at her- suddenly, everything else is lost to him. He steps away from Bran so he might come to stand before her, but there’s only a moment of hesitation before he’s reaching for her. She opens her arms to him and he holds fast to her, breathing in her sweet, yet familiar scent. Over his shoulder, blue eyes peer out at the silver-haired woman that stands in the distance. 

“Where’s Arya?” He asks when he pulls back, holding her yet at arms length. 

Sansa smiles, her eyes flickering back to him for the briefest of moments. “Lurking somewhere,” she replies, though Jon cannot help but to notice that her gaze has returned to Daenerys. 

As he turns, he hears the footsteps already telling him that she’s approaching where they stand. “Queen Daenerys, of House Targaryen,” he says, extending out an arm so she might penetrate the bubble they’ve created. “My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell.” He steps aside so the dragon queen might come to stand before Sansa, who wears a face he’s never seen before. This was who she once had to be, when she was trapped within King’s Landing, when pleasing a monarch was her one, single duty. 

“Lady Stark, thank you for opening your home to us,” Daenerys speaks sweetly, her pretty face dimpling as she smiles. “The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you.” She compliments, thinking this will do the trick. 

Sansa smiles dutifully, perfectly, someone he doesn’t know.

 “Winterfell is yours, your grace.” 

That is all. 

[ x x x ]

He throws open her door and comes through just as she’s tugging off her cloak. 

She doesn’t even have the time to speak his name before his lips are on hers, his arms coming  around her waist, drawing her in as if she was the one thing anchoring him to this world. “I’ve missed you,” he gasps when he breaks free a few moments later, though she’s whimpering, hands clutching at his clothes, as if breaking away was the worst thing he could have done. 

“I missed you,” she speaks between their lips, meeting, frantic, wild, a feeling like no other. 

He’s pulling off his layers, his furs, his doublet, his shirt, and her hands are crossing the expanse of his chest, scars beneath her palms. “I told you I would come back,” he laughs as he tugs her towards the bed, his breeches tight, her gown slipping over her shoulders. “Come here,” he says and she does as he bids, but only after she lets her gown fall to the floor, stepping out of it so she might straddle his lips in nothing but her shift. 

She was all he’s thought of over these long weeks away, all that kept him sane. 

Now he has her again and he’s drunk with it; the feeling of her soft skin beneath his touch, the soft sound of her voice saying his name… It’s all he’s dreamt of, all he’s wanted. “Jon!” She’s gasping his name, she’s warm against him, as if it was the only place she was meant to be. Every ounce of unhappiness, of loneliness, is gone now that she’s in his arms again. Their eyes meet and he knows that there was nothing that could take him from where he was right then and there. Even if her door flung open, he would remain as he was, with his arms around her and his lips at her throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps when he draws free, thinking of what he’s done to get to where he was now.

She shakes her head, because nothing else mattered, nothing else but this. “Don’t be,” she replies, eyes smoldering, hands trembling. Sansa supposes that despite it all, this was where they were supposed to end up. No matter the path they had to take to get there, it was meant to be. All was well, so long as they ended up together. “You came back to me,” she smiles, thinking of what could have been. Of what wasn’t. “That’s what matters.” 

“I promised, didn’t I?” He chuckles and leans in to capture her mouth once more, drawing her back into the furs on her bed. 

This would be where they’d stay, at least for now. 

[ x x x ]

The room is full of static electricity. 

Jon shivers with it, glancing around the room of angry faces that stare back at him. He’s moved through the harsh words of the lords he’s let down for bending the knee, but he isn’t certain he’ll live through the venom of the two women on his either side. He has seen Daenerys with the look she wears now before, but the Sansa at his other side is unlike the woman he knows so well. She is like a wolf, poised to strike, jaws ready to bite. Her blue eyes are sharper than steel in their gaze, her words even sharper. 

“What do dragons eat, anyways?” 

Sansa speaks again and the silent room does not reply, perhaps some not knowing the answer, perhaps some not daring to anger her further. But, at his opposite side, Daenerys sits up a little bit straighter. “Whatever they want.” Comes her reply, tart and dripping with arrogance. He thinks for a moment that a fight might follow, but instead, Sansa is rising up from the chair she sits in, and at once, all of the lords follow suit. It is she they respect, it is she that they should be bowing with reverence to. 

Jon swallows and rises up, a sign of his allegiance.

[ x x x ]

The battle is upon them, but somehow, that is not what weighs heaviest upon him. 

“Jon?” She questions, her voice bringing him back. 

“I want you in the crypts, you’ll be safest down there,” he says in response, reaching for her hands. They stand in her rooms, she in her fierce armored gown of black leather and gray wool. She frowns, opening her mouth as if she means to argue, but instead thinks better of it, for she only nods as his hands take hold of hers. He swallows, thinking of the dozens of things he wants to say to her then, so many unspoken things he wants her to hear before… Just in case.

“Tell me when it’s over,” she says softly, as if she’s reading his mind, her smile encouraging.  “Tell me in the morning.” When the dawn broke over the night and the battle was won, that was when he could tell her whatever it was he was thinking. She has her hopes as to what those words might be but she will be patient. 

He would come back from war once more and he would say it. 

He would say it all. 

[ x x x ]

They win, but at a cost. 

Lives are lost, many of them at that, but in the end the Night King is vanquished and they are safe from at least one threat now. Sansa knows there’s two more to come, but for now, this is a win they will celebrate.

And… More than that… 

She thinks of the confession Jon made to her and the others just that morning beneath the heart tree, the truth of his birth. It was not a father they shared at all, but rather he was born of her own aunt Lyanna, the true born son not of a Northern man, but Rhaegar Targaryen. The truth was, it was Jon that was the heir to the Seven Kingdoms, not Daenerys. 

“Sansa?” 

She turns at the sound of his voice, faintly smiling at the sight of him there in her doorway; what was once forbidden was no longer. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes as he slips into her room, unable to take his eyes from her in the new gown she wears. She is every inch a Northern queen in such a gown, its reflective material looking more like fish scales than fabric, a nod to her Tully heritage. Her long red hair falls freely down her back, a simple knot of braids pinned up at the back of her head. Face flushing, she takes his arm that he offers to her, allowing for him to lead her from her chamber and out into the hall. “Everything will change after this, I suppose,” he says as they walk, heading down towards the stairs that will lead them down to the main hall. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” she admits with a nod, glancing his way as they descend the stairs. “But for the good,” she continues on, thinking of everything that was to come. Nothing would be easy, the two rival queens certainly would make sure of that, but she no longer felt afraid. After all they had been through, after all that had come to pass already… There was nothing left to fear; she’s faced worse than dragons or lions, after all. 

As they step into the empty corridor, the sound of voices and laughter already floating in from behind the double doors of the great hall, Jon pauses, keeping her there at the bottom of the stairs. “Sansa…” He turns her around to fully face him and he can’t help but to drink in the sight of her, wondering to himself as he often does, just how a creature such as she could even exist. Everything good in his world, everything warm, everything safe, was all because of her. Everything that gives meaning to his life… It was all her. “I love you,” he says softly, leaning in to press his forehead against hers, lips hovering dangerously close. Those were the three words he’d yet to say, but had felt for a lot longer than he really ever realized. 

She’s smiling, laughing, hands sliding into place on either side of his face, uncaring of who might discover them there. Soon enough, the entire world would know the truth. “I love you, too,” she whispers back and she knows that everything that comes after this moment would be well worth it. And then he’s drawing back and her hand is on his arm once more, leading her into the great hall to loud, triumphant cheers. 

From this moment on, everything would be different, but everything would be perfect.

[eofoc]

day 11: symbolism

doing this instead of studying. a long ass post because i love symbolism so mych

YUZE

columbine flower - "decisive victory" (yearning for revenge no matter what), foolishness and innocence (a nod towards his childs self personality)

snowdrop flower - new beginnings, hope and rebirth (all tying to him being able to forgive himself and live again)

moonstone - often linked to the tides, and used for sleeping problems (tied to the sea, which is very important to him - and also a silly reference to his sleeping habits!)

the hermit - treason (his parents) and prudence, but also unreasoned caution (holding everyone at hands length)

other than that, his general symbols/themes include the stars and the sea!

(rest of characters under the cut!!)

ANGE

tansy - "i declare against you," (him being antagonistic towards the society that rejects him; going against the wishes of his family) resistance, revenge (a nod to yuze and their bond!)

daffodil - new beginnings, forgiveness (mostly for himself, but also towards juliet) and rebirth; can also mean "beautiful eyes" (he hates his eyes, since theyre identical to his fathers, something his mother pointed out very often - just a silly ironic reference)

serpentine - associated with snakes and the lushness of nature

the magician - manipulation, illusion (manipulating others into believing his persona), being out of touch

other than that, his general themes include butterflies (rebirth and fragility), eyes, insects and nature in general

JULIET

ivy - fidelity and eternal life (ironically, its the way she knows her life wont be eternal, and how little she values it)

indian mallow - conjecture, love and protection (overprotective nature)

emerald - loyalty, peace and security (her sense of duty towards her family and their reputation, but also the wish for ange to live peacefully and to be safe)

the hanged man - sacrifice, rash decisions and letting go

other than that, her themes include candles (the impermanence of life) and birdcages (core negative beliefs, prison of own thoughts) <3

MISCHA

red camellia - deep desire (just in general - but with him mostly to fit in and be "normal"), humility

red spinel - great passion, devotion and courage (ironic since he thinks of himself as a coward)

birdfoot - revenge (backstory related!), claws (nod to him being a vampire), but also sincerity (also kind of ironic, since he struggles a lot with it)

the star - hopelessness and despair, theft, arrogance

he is also associated with the red moon (death, something bad is coming) and bees (hard work)

ROSELYN

rose - unrequited love, jealousy, respect (all feelings she has towards juliet!!)

"pacific rose" - prestige, abundance and nourishment (representation of her family life on the surface)

rhodolite - overcoming feelings of shame, guilt and inadequacy

temperance - imbalance, discord, and impatience (also relates to her relationship with juliet - but also general imbalances in her life)

her other themes include cards (uncertainty, game) and pearls (journey to perfection)

ORIFIEL

white lily - death, symbol of mortality (his fear of death and refusing to believe hes mortal as a coping mechanism of knowing death will meet him soon)

chrysoberyl - keenness of perception, great clarity (a nod to how perceptive and observant he is)

judgement - inner calling, absolution (the finality of everything), karma and causality (teehee heehee heehee)

his themes are kind of vague, but include the sun, gold chains, stained glass, and anything religious or death related!

[rubykgrant]

(This is the beginning of my "merkid" story, that I kept forgetting about, so I'm finally sharing it~)

It was supposed to be an easy security job.

When Sarge first arrived in Hawai'i, he was pleasantly surprised by the way it felt, simply being on the islands; despite what the tourist brochure's tried to trick people into believing, everything wasn't one big beach with a constant party going on.

Towns and cities were here, all sorts of different little communities that could be spaced-out or overlap, hills that rose and fell, deep forests, open fields and valleys, calm little streams and wide rivers... so many things that reminded him of other places he'd been, which in turn were all unique within themselves. In particular, he was amazed by the way he could actually FEEL the ocean, even when he couldn't directly see it. There was a sub-audible quality, a sensation of the waves rolling in then rushing out. The push and pull was always there.

He wasn't here to sight-see, but on his way to his new job, Sarge absorbed as much as he could. Partially to be familiar with the area (because that was part of his training, and he couldn't let go of it. Or, it couldn't let go of him, whatever perspective you wanted to have), and partially to find good places to eat, and other shops that would have what he needed to live. Because he was going to live here now. Not quite retirement, but the military had used him up and thrown him away, so it was time to move on (even if certain things wouldn't let go).

Sarge was here for work. A simple security job for a marine research facility. He should have realized this job had several red-flags... but unfortunately, red was his favorite color.

For one thing, they specifically wanted somebody with a military background for this positions. Somebody who was good at following orders, and didn't ask too many questions. That was a HUGE red-flag. It also described exactly who he was (or at least, who he had been for many years).

When he actually arrived for the official interview, another red-flag was the fact that absolutely none of the researchers and scientists were locals. A few janitors and people that re-stocked vending machines were people who lived on the island, but that was it. The people who did all the research were from other places, like himself. You'd think scientists studying local marine life would want input from the human locals.

A third red-flag was how man NDAs he had to sign, and how secretive everything was within the facility. He wasn't even allowed to enter most areas of the building, which from the outside looked like a big gray brick, but within held multiple levels of mysterious hallways and large rooms... or what he assumed were large rooms. So far, he only patrolled the ground-floor and the outside perimeter. Which was surrounded by several chain-link fences, topped with barbed-wire... and cameras everywhere.

He should have asked why this place needed so much security, and yet restricted him from seeing what they were doing. He should have asked what these people were researching, and why they seemed to be hiding it from the locals. He should have asked a lot of questions, but they wanted somebody who wouldn't do that, which is why they got him.

Any curiosity he did have was quickly forgotten on his second day of the job. There was a distraction. A very annoying and PERSISTENT distraction. One he had not expected to deal with. It continued through that first week, then on into the next month, and eventually it became constant.

This was supposed to be an easy security job. It wasn't.

Instead, he had to focus all his energy into trying to stop one single trespasser.

"Dang it kid, don't you ever go to school?" Sarge groaned, leaning down on his knees to reach under a car in the back parking lot, where the trespasser was currently hiding.

"YOU'RE NOT MY DAD! WHAT DO YOU CARE?!" came the reply. Sarge could tell the trespasser had rolled away, out of reach. Fine, then this was happening...

"I CARE, because then maybe I'd get a few hours of PEACE 'N QUIET, while you learned 'yer ABCs!" Sarge dropped down himself, flat on his belly, and rolled under the vehicle as well. The trespasser made a strangled noise of shock and disgruntlement as Sarge finally caught hold of him. Now came the tricky part, getting them both out from under here, without losing his grip.

"ABCs? What, do you think I'm in KINDERGARTEN?" now the kicking started. Great.

"You sure ACT like a bratty little 5-year-old!" Sarge finally maneuvered to hold the trespasser with one arm, and use his other to carefully move across the pavement, not scraping himself or the "criminal" in the process.

"Well YOU act like an old SONUVA-" Sarge cut him off, being able to finally stand again.

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH! One of these days, I'm gonna figure out how t'get a hold of yer parents, see what THEY think of you play'n hookey, trespassin', and smart'n off to your elders!"

No reply to that. Sarge shifted his grip, now holding the individual in question under-arm, like a football tucked at his side, and began to walk toward the outer fence. It was fairly easy to carry the trespasser like this; the kid was only about 11 or 12.

He was a little short for his age, had a thick build, chubby but with hidden muscle mass in there (Sarge knew this for a fact, because the kid could hold on tight when he refused to be moved, was FAST when he wanted to be, and had even thrown a couple punches that HURT. Not to mention the kicking). Thick brown hair, a little long with wavy curls, warm brown skin, and eyes that were such a dark brown, they almost seemed black. He had a round face, but a little squared chin, hinting at a strong jaw (Sarge tried very hard not to find anything "endearing" about this kid, but he couldn't help but think it made the young man resemble a rebellious hero in some of those old Westerns from his own childhood).

Sarge had spent enough time keeping a look-out for the trouble-making trespasser, he had the boy's appearance memorized, including the expressions; typically a default look of bored disinterest... except when he was shooting glares of white-hot rage at the employees, or getting surprised (almost embarrassed) during the moments Sarge caught him sneaking around.

Sarge glanced down, watching as the kid crossed his arms, as if pouting while being carried off the premises, letting his legs dangle limply. The boy seemed to only have 6 shirts he rotated through, and maybe 4 pairs of pants and shorts. His shoes were old and falling apart. Sarge had seen him every day for three months now. It was impossible not to notice.

The kid didn't get through the fences EVERY time, but he would always show up, perhaps simply walking by... it was fairly far outside the edge of the town, and thus not part of the kid's route home. This also made it hard to figure out where he went to school or who his parents were.

Sarge tried to suggest calling the local authorities a few times, let them sort out where the kid's family was, and leave any discipline to them. His bosses didn't like that idea... mumbling about not wanting to attract unwanted attention or cause any waves with the locals by calling the cops on a kid. Sarge didn't so much see it as getting the boy arrested or unfairly punished; it was more about safety. Whoever was responsible for the kid clearly wasn't keeping an eye on him.

In the end, nothing was done. Sarge tried to get the kid to call his parents once or twice in his office, but eventually just let the kid go. Then the kid would come back. Skulk around. Sneak in. Catch and release.

At the metal gate, Sarge unlocked it, turned the handle, and plopped the kid down on the outside. He was quick to put his hands on the boy's shoulders (he had learned his lesson before, when the kid would just BOLT back toward the building as soon as feet touched ground).

"Kid. I've tried reasoning with you. I've tried threatening you," the little boy snorted at that. Sarge knew he could sound intimidating when he bellowed, but the kid had called his bluff by now, and knew any promises of violence were just bluster. "So now, I'm gonna try BRIBING you. Stop trespassing, and I'll- I'll buy you a medium pizza, your choice of toppings, every Friday. How's that sound? Can you agree to that?"

The kid's eyes lit up.

Sarge had noticed how very... "food motivated" the kid was. He'd raided the vending machines AND the break-room fridge every time he got into the ground floor of the building, and twice when Sarge had the kid in his office, he later discovered his own lunch was gone. He barely left the kid alone, for less than a minute!

Sometimes, when the kid just stood outside the fence to glare, he would have a package of Oreo cookies, open them up, and not leave until he ate them all. It made Sarge wonder how stable to food-situation was for the kid at home... but he couldn't worry about that. He wasn't getting paid to worry about that. This was his security job, and that was what he had to focus on.

The kid looked genuinely distressed as he thought about this offer; as if Sarge had given him a difficult moral dilemma that had dire consequences.

"No. I can't..." the kid finally answered. He was nearly on the verge of crying.

"For Godsakes- WHY? Can you answer me that? Why do you keep trying to get in here? You think we got a petting zoo inside? A waterpark? Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory? WHAT?" Sarge asked.

"You won't believe me," the kid answered, some combination of defiant and determined, and yet also defeated.

"Try me," Sarge insisted.

For a moment, the kid only stared, as if trying to really get a good look at Sarge for the first time; he was in his 50s, with the graying, white-streaked hair to prove it. On the shorter side of "average height", but broad-shouldered and boxy, and he knew how carry himself so he looked ten feet tall. His face had deep lines, the nose and jaw had been broken in the past, and all across his face and arms, little lines and clusters of old scars showed. His rather pale skin had burned his first week here, but he's been better at using sunblock, and it has finally evened-out into a light tan. Sarge was built like a brick, and proud of it. Most people were afraid to look him in the eye.

The kid blinked, a few tears spilling out and rolling down his cheeks, but he didn't look away.

"Those scientist guys stole my friend. He's in there, someplace. I'm trying to find him and get him out,"

Sarge hadn't been expecting to hear THAT, but it didn't entirely throw him for a loop either; kids will say some WILD nonsense, lie on the fly, and not always realize it. They imagine something up, say it, and then just believe it. They commit to the bit without even trying, or fully understanding the concept of being deceitful. Before tricking anybody else, kids will trick themselves.

Who knows what REALLY had this boy so fixated on the building.

"Uh-huh. And why, exactly, do they have your friend?" Sarge somehow managed to avoid sounding too sarcastic.

"B-because," the kid huffed, looking very serious, indignant, and... afraid? "He isn't- he's not human,"

[polypomefiore]

(In response to the vampire au ask from yesterday)

I’m still in the process of thinking over the story a bit (and waiting for my acceptance notification to be able to make an ao3 account), but I have come up with a few ideas for why Vil and Rook bought Epel.

You see, as I mentioned in a previous ask that I sent you about some of the character bios for this au, Vil was made the head of his vampire coven (which I’m thinking about calling it Cantiuncula Veneni) after his father Eric was killed. Thus, Vil is the last surviving member of the Schoenheit family, who have basically been the ruling vampire family of Cantiuncula Veneni for hundreds of years, practically since the coven’s founding. However, despite being married to Rook for over 147 years, they have never been able to successfully conceive and bear any children, which greatly devastates Vil as he not only wishes to continue his family bloodline and ensure its survival, but he deeply wishes to have children of his own who he can lovingly raise like his father raised him. 

However, all of the couple's attempts have ended in failure, with Vil either suffering a miscarriage or bearing stillborn children; he probably has several rose bushes in his estate’s garden to commemorate the children he lost. All of these failed attempts have led to some beginning to suspect that Vil is “cursed” to never have any children despite his status as an omega, no matter how many times he and his mate try and make love every night in hopes of conceiving a healthy baby.

Luckily, Vil has found a possible solution in the form of a powerful fertility potion by the name of Rotes Getränk der Fruchtbarkeit (aka “red drink of fertility” in english), but the potion requires a VERY vital ingredient. The fresh, healthy blood of a virgin mortal omega who is both deflowered and impregnated by the vampire wishing to brew the potion.

Thus, when the couple first saw Epel at the auction and heard about how despite having gone through puberty and being of proper (victorian era) omega marriage age, he was still an untouched virgin, they knew he would be a perfect fit. The couple (or rather mostly Rook) continuously try to impregnate Epel every single night for the sake of starting their own family and continuing the Schoenheit family lineage.

Also they would probably punish Epel by putting him in “time out” by locking him in the cellar dungeon again, but without putting him through any sexual torture, and leave him there alone for a couple days, only coming down to bring him food, water, and blankets. They would also have him locked in their bedroom and put a chain around his ankle to ensure he doesn’t try to run away again when they are out, while also making sure that the servants keep a much closer eye on Epel.

This is still kinda in the works so I might change this a bit later.

this au is soooo good and delicious i eat it up

epel constantly being bred…it’s what he deserves…i also dig the lore tho 👁️👁️ hope rkvl is successful, tho what happens if epel, a human, is impregnated by a vampire?

i keep thinking abt the twilight pregnancy and that traumatized me lmao but in a dark fic i can see it

[thatesqcrush]

12 Steps to Love - Step 6: Ready to Remove Defects

Rafael Barba x f!reader. CW: Yelina. 🤣 But FR, some implied smut (oral, male receiving) & angst. WC: 2K??? AN: thx for the assist as always @beccabarba you’re the best!

‘So this is what it’s like to eat crow,’ Rafael thought to himself as he stared at the sleeping figure next to him in bed.

He hadn’t meant to take Yelina home. Or to bed. He ran into her when he was visiting his abuelita. She was divorced, the scandal of Alex soliciting and sexting with a teenager and everything else was too much to bear. Yelina had been thoroughly humiliated, moving herself and children to her parents who lived in the same building with Rafael’s grandmother.

For Rafael, there was something comforting about talking with someone who knew him so well. There was no small talk or pleasantries, just diving back in to where they had left off, including with sex.

Rafael couldn't understand however, why at the very moment he decided to pursue something with Yelina, your face came to his mind.

He slipped out of the bed carefully so as to not to disturb Yelina. They were at his place as her place was out of the question for obvious reasons. He had a lawyer event and she was his plus one. He shut the bathroom door quietly and then relieved himself. He turned on the shower, letting the water get very hot. Steam filled the room. He enjoyed particularly hot showers - they seemed to be the most soothing, even if slightly scalding. It was as if the hot water could melt his stress and wash away the dirt, grime and sins of the night.

His gold chain glistened through the steam as water rushed over his body. Rafael lathered shampoo, his eyes closed as he did so. In doing so, he hadn’t realized Yelina had come into the shower to join him. He only noticed because a small blast of cold air came in. He jumped, slightly startled and Yelina was quick to reassure him that it was just her.

Rafael watched as Yelina sank to her knees, looking up at him with needy eyes. And as she began to blow him, Rafael allowed himself to pretend it was you.

**

It was Valentine’s Day.

Somehow you found yourself in charge of the Valentine’s Day party decorating committee. You hardly wanted to, but you figured you could duck out once the room was decorated, so you could do what you really wanted to do — watch sad movies and eat cookie dough.

Despite having a broken heart, you put all your energy into decorating. There was a sequin wall panel backdrop and a balloon arch mixed with red, white and pink balloons. You found reusable LED balloons that had little faux red roses in them.

It looked like Cupid had thrown up everywhere.

You glanced at your watch and then at the door. People were beginning to arrive and mill about. You wanted to leave before Rafael made an appearance. While you weren’t positive that he was seeing someone, you didn’t want to stick around and find out.

You focused on your breathing again, forcing the thought from your mind. You did not need to watch the doors. Yet you still did.

Some members had brought their own instruments to provide entertainment. People started shushing each other as soft music began to fill the room. The music continues for some time, several jazzy songs which soothe your frayed nerves even as the pace of the music picks up somewhat. The light was dimmed and the chatter and bustle has mostly died down as everyone began to listen to the performance. Some people started to dance, but most were swaying on the spot, their movement soft and smooth.

For a few seconds, your mind drifted. At the edge of your mind, images crept up. The scent of Rafael’s cologne. The way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. The way his arms held you tightly. The sound of his heartbeat while you laid your head on his chest. The feel of his beard against your skin. The song ended to raucous applause. And it was only then you realized you were crying.

You wiped your eyes with your palm, guaranteeing that your makeup was ruined. You decided at that moment to leave and of course, that is when Rafael showed up. With a gorgeous brunette draped on his arm.

You froze mid-step. Rafael’s eyes met yours, locking for the briefest of moments before you turned away.

Rafael and his guest made their way further into the room and you made a beeline for the doorway.

You hurried down the hallway, your face growing hot and fresh tears threatened to spill. ‘My heart beats for the man who wants someone else.’

You heard your name being called. You kept your hurried pace when your name was called again, this time, the tone more sharp.

You turned to see Rafael in the middle of the hallway. He jogged up to you.

“I thought by the time I got here, I'd know what to say.”

You looked at the door behind you - your escape - and then back to Rafael. You frowned. “I was just on my way home.”

Rafael’s smile dissipated. He cocked his head, as if he was trying to measure you up. “Haven’t seen you at the meetings.”

You didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, you looked around, trying to focus on anything else. “I have been going to other meetings. Mornings and midday.”

Rafael nodded, his hand scratching his beard.

You looked past his shoulder and saw his party guest standing in the doorway peeking.

“Someone’s waiting for you.”

Rafael turned around and Yelina gave a small wave. You awkwardly waved back and watched as Yelina turned back into the room. Rafael then turned back to you.

“She’s lovely,” you replied in an attempt to break the tension. The air was thick and rife.

When Rafael didn’t respond, you continued. “Just admit it. You're still angry at me.”

“Okay, maybe you're right.” Rafael sighed. “I don't want to be, but every time I look at you, I think of you breaking sobriety and losing that bracelet…”

“I said I'm sorry!” You threw your hands in the air. “I don't know what else to do.”

“What we had was really good,” Rafael replied softly. “I'm still mad at you for screwing it up.”

You shrugged. “I get it. I don’t blame you. I’m mad at myself too.”

“So where do we go on from here?” Rafael wondered out loud.

You shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Rafael nodded and rocked back on heels. He gave a small shrug as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “It was good to see you.”

You took a step forward and stepped onto your toes. Your hands pressed against his chest and you gave him a soft kiss. “I guess call me when you're less mad. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

—

Rafael made his way back to the party and to Yelina.

“¿Todo bien, mi amor? Te ves agobiado.”

Rafael smiled and shook his head. “Everything’s fine. An old friend, um, someone I was sponsoring.”

Yelina hummed. “I see,” she replied coolly.

Rafael placed his hand around her waist. “Let’s get something to drink and then dance.”

The festivities eventually winded down. Rafael and Yelina waited on the sidewalk for their Uber to arrive. Smoke billowed upwards from the steam grate. Despite the late hour, the city was alive with lovebirds and the lovelorn alike. The car came and Yelina rested her head on Rafael’s shoulder.

“I had a really good time tonight. I’m so glad we’re back together,” Yelina yawned before she placed her head on Rafael’s shoulder. When she didn’t get the response she wanted, Yelina repeated herself.

“Rafi, oye, did you hear me?”

Rafael furrowed his brows, realizing he hadn’t heard her. “What?”

“I said I am glad we’re back together.” Yelina replied irritably. It bugged her that she had to garner his attention. She wasn’t dumb - Rafael’s mind was elsewhere and she knew it was on a particular person that was not her. She then cozied up to Rafael more. “Are you?”

“Something like that,” Rafael murmured to himself as he watched the city go by in a blur.

All he could think about was you.

—

Two weeks later, you woke up to a text from Rafael wanting to meet at Forlini’s for dinner and to talk. You texted him back that you would meet him after work.

When Rafael arrived at Forlini’s, you were in a booth, reading a book while drinking a soda. Your nails were rapping against the table in nervousness. You looked up and saw Rafael. Your eyes met and you smiled.

Rafael took the seat across from you and a waitress came by to take his drink order.

“Just a coke please,” Rafael replied. “And two menus for dinner.”

The waitress nodded and replied she would be back. There was an awkward silence, before Rafael’s face softened and he began to speak.

“Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Of course,” you replied a little too quickly; your nerves were shot.

“I’ve missed you.”

You looked at Rafael, your eyes searching his, ever hopeful. “You have?”

Rafael nodded. “I have.”

At that moment, the waitress returned with Rafael’s soda and two menus. After the waitress left the two of you alone again, you spoke.

“What about that woman you were with?”

Rafael shook his head. “Yelina—“

You spit your drink, spraying all over the table. “That was Yelina? Oh God, I’m sorry, excuse me!”

“Yeah, that’s her. But I ended things with her. What she and I had — it was never meant for more than just —“

“Sex,” you finished for him. You shook your head slightly as you finished wiping down the table.

“Sex,” Rafael affirmed. “We used each other then and we used each other now. It was too toxic to stay - so I broke it off. It was horrible. She cried. She threw things, they hit me.”

You furrowed your brows and opened your mouth to reply when the waitress returned to take your orders. The two of you continued to make small talk and discuss pleasantries. Finally, you decided to steer the conversation as to what was the elephant in the room.

“Raf, so what’s going on? Why are we here?”

Rafael reached across the table and grasped your hand. “If it’s okay with you, I’m good. We’re good. You and I.”

You stabbed a piece of your dinner with your fork. “We’re good? Just like that?” You gave him an incredulous look.

Rafael released your hand and began to cut into his steak. “I mean, it happened, it's behind me, and it's really good to be with you. I missed you. I want us to work.”

You let out a hum and took a bite of your dinner. The two of you ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally, you threw your fork on your plate where it made a clattering sound.

Rafael looked at you perplexed.

“Wanna just go back to your place and have sex?”

It was Rafael’s turn to sputter. “I’m sorry?”

“You, me, sex. We’re back together, yes? Then aren’t we due for makeup sex? Or do you want to finish dinner?”

Rafael wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it down. “I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and opened his wallet, tossing a couple of large bills on the table. He reached for you, his hand extended. You allowed him to help you stand. Standing across from him, you allowed yourself to really look at him. Fuck he was beautiful. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Rafael commented.

“Wish you’d stop fuckin’ talking and get t–” your complaint was cut off by Rafael’s lips crashing into his own.

At first you stood there awkwardly stiff, lips touching but not much more. But then, you moved your arm around to the back of his neck, where your fingers teased his skin. Your lips became pliant against his and opened just enough for Rafael to slip his tongue between them.

You pulled back, just slightly, just enough to catch Rafael’s eyes with your own. “Let’s go.”

TBC.

Tags: @madpanda75 @mgarner1227 @youreverycolor @melk917 @beccabarba @storiesofsvu @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @i-justreally-like-cats-okay @itsjustmyfantasyroom @madamsnape921 @dreamlover31 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @tintinxtintin @averyhotchner @glimmerglittergirl @garturbo @zoeykaytesmom @neely1177 @a-brignac @detectivebarba @pieceofshittytitty @bananas-pajamas @alwaysachorusgirl @bisexual-dreamer02 @blueberryt @qvid-pro-qvo @amelia-song-pond @chasingeverybreakinvwave @its-just-me-chey @whatisthislife28 @emandems10 @berniesilvas @whoamelinda @greeneyedblondie44 @jazzyjoi

[ruiniel]

Prickly thorns, tender roses

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Rating: Mature🔞

Relationship: Alucard/Original Female Character

Characters: Alucard, Original Character(s)

Summary:

Set after the events of Castlevania (Netflix) Season III. After the betrayal of his young apprentices, Alucard feels barely alive in his lonesome castle. Days wear on, chipping away at his mind and sanity. And what is the son of Dracula to do with this unwanted visitor, suddenly come at his doorstep? Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses- Ovid

Chapter tags & warnings: Dark Romanticism, Inspired by Castlevania, personal interpretation of post-season III Alucard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Castlevania Season III, POV Original Character, Imprisonment, tension, Not your usual meet-cute, Paranoia, Not Canon Compliant, 'Alucard being unreasonable' is an understatement

III. My chains to rattle

When she stirred, her body felt sore and immeasurably weak, from the tips of her fingers to the toes of her feet. Her eyelids fluttered open to the shafts of light filtering through a window. Ravenna groaned, confused, her mind a whispering desert storm where recent events whirled at will, with no clarity or sequence. She wanted to rise, but something was not right. She looked up and saw that her arms were suspended above her head. In chains. Lovely.

Dread gripped her mind, and she struggled against her bonds. The woman promptly looked herself over and saw she wore the same traveling garb she had arrived in. Her cloak lay abandoned on a nearby table, but she still had her leggings, boots, and tunic. Her dagger was gone. Ravenna breathed a sigh of strangled relief, for she was yet alive and whole, but the meager consolation faded when she remembered who... what had brought her in this state to begin with. Looking about the place, she saw the makings of a chamber. It was as derelict as the others the woman had seen in the short time spent in this forgotten abode.

This is ridiculous.

There was a metal leash fastened around her neck, strung from another chain in the stone walls. Each movement caused a desolate rattling sound.

Not a dungeon, at least.

But still a prisoner.

There was no sign of her savior become captor, and her thoughts returned to inhuman eyes that severed her consciousness from her body with a single stare. And the teeth... no, not teeth, fangs. She had heard the grim tales of this land, come from far away as she was. She had heard of the one called Dracula, king of vampires. Was this...? Had she unknowingly stumbled into the lair of the greatest horror the world had ever known?

"Is anyone there?" she asked, her voice raspy with disuse. Only silence greeted her back.

She slumped against her chains with a sigh. The strain in her arms and shoulders hurt, and the more she struggled, the more intense the pain became.

Hours passed this way, leaving the woman alone with her worries until Ravenna saw the sun slowly make its descent as dusk fell over the world.

In the fading light, she cursed her luck - or lack thereof - which hurled her straight into the clutches of this sinister place and its apparently ruthless owner.

"Who are you?"

The words startled the woman so much she yelped and sprang forward with a metallic clank of her chains.

Flowing shadows filled the space, welcoming the manic lord of the castle who deigned to make his appearance known.

She was afraid, but she was also bitter, and it overran whatever threat was looming behind those cold eyes. "My arms hurt," the young woman muttered, looking away.

"I trust they do," the menace tilted his head to one side, regarding her as a hunting cat would a stray mouse.

She straightened against her chains with a grimace.

"I thought you might need to stand at some point, hence the length," he continued, turning to the sole window in the room.

"So very thoughtful," Ravenna growled, only to be met with a blazing gaze of red. It lasted only a moment before it faded from his countenance.

"Gall. Why am I not surprised," her captor drawled.

As he turned his head to the window again, the woman could not help but sense a seething sort of grief, hanging to him akin to a pressing monolith of immovable stone.

"For the last time, who are you?"

"I told you who I was... lord," she tried civility. "I am called Ravenna. I am not of this land."

He tapped a long finger against his lips, eyeing her. "What is your purpose here, then? In Wallachia?"

She hesitated. "May I at least know your name?" the woman tried.

He was in her face in an instant, clawed fingers grasping her chin none too gently. "You think this is a game?" he purred, a dangerous edge to his soft voice. His face split into a frightful smile that curdled her blood.

"I still believe... it is only courteous for me to at least know your name, following this... warm welcome," the woman choked, the freezing touch of his fingers causing a furious heartbeat to burst in her ears. Ravenna berated herself for the rebellious streak which, once again, might land her in more trouble than she bargained for.

He frowned, and she heard what may have been an incredulous snort. "I am the owner of this castle, and that is all you need to know."

"Are you... Dracula?" she decided to out with it.

The stranger released her and stepped back. A low grumble made its way up his throat, and with increased pique, Ravenna realized he was laughing.

"It is a fair assumption, you know ... we are in Wallachia, you own an immense castle that seems to swallow the light, and I saw the teeth..."

"Enough!" he cut her off. "Why are you here? Speak."

"After you grant me your name, lord," Ravenna braved, despite feeling the fool.

There it was, the low rumble that was his scornful laughter again, and a show of fangs that had her swallowing in dread.

He approached the woman again with slow, feline grace. "I could end you here and now, human," he murmured. Empty eyes locked on hers before trailing to the scrapes on her face, gained during her flight; his gaze took in her disheveled appearance, and finally settled on her neck.

Ravenna shifted, restless. "And yet, you do not," she retorted. Prodding was unwise. Prodding would always, always cause more trials than she could bear. Sage thoughts, and completely unrelated to what actually left her mouth. "The question is... why?"

Her captor raised an eyebrow, watching her as though she were insane. "What is your occupation?"

"I told you, I am a scholar."

"A scholar of what?" he demanded, his frown deepening.

Ravenna rolled her eyes despite herself. "I follow a school of thought that studies alchemy, philosophy, and medicine."

He turned away, hands clasped behind his back. "Interesting..." After a few moments, his shoulders shook in laughter again. What ever could be so amusing?

"Is this the restitution you require for your aid? Keeping me for a prisoner, held like an animal to rot away in your chains?" she blurted. He was so cold, and with him so was the air in the room. It came in shallow mists from her nose and mouth.

He seemed to ponder. "You said you cannot go back into the forest. And you will surely understand - I do not trust you. Hence you are bound until I know more. And with the way this is going, that may take a long, long time." He smiled, baring his fangs for her to see.

The prospect of being chained to a wall in the confines of a castle, at the mercy of a creature of the night no less, was not the most heartening. And she had a quest to continue. Still, Ravenna kept her peace and refused to beg. "Am I truly that much of a threat to someone like you?" she asked, raising her chin in defiance, but the plea was traceable in her voice.

She found it odd how he appeared to retreat, his expression become weary; he averted his gaze. "You all do more damage than you know," he mouthed after a while as to himself, watching the settling night beyond the window.

Ravenna sighed, her head bobbing downward. The metal leash chafed and gnawed at the sensitive skin of her neck. When she lifted her head, she gasped to find him before her. The heaviness of his scent did strange things to her senses, and her mind felt drenched in fog. His hand reached for her and she recoiled. The hand lingered for a split second before continuing its intent, reaching for her neck. Ravenna pressed her eyes tightly shut, her heart pounding. What would he do?

With the brush of cool fingers against her skin, the leash came unfastened and fell to the floor. She breathed again. Looking up, Ravenna stilled when met with the embers of his eyes. They were mere voids, swallowing all feeling and emotion, but there was no cruelty beneath those long black lashes; she was unable to look away.

He reached for her arms, and her astonishment increased when the cuffs around her wrists came undone as well. With absolute agony, the young woman let her limbs down, hissing with the strong discomfort. She looked back into his eyes. "... thank you," she muttered.

He made no reply but did back away. "That, stays," he pointed to the long chain and manacle around her ankle.

"So I am your prisoner," she concluded.

"I prefer the term guest," the vampire offered almost innocently with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

Ravenna regarded him with a wry expression. "... and this is how you treat your guests."

She shivered despite herself at the sudden sliver of ire flitting across his face.

"Oh pardon me, would you prefer a cozy fireplace and a cooked meal instead?" he taunted. "Perhaps a warm bed and a glass of wine, why not!"

"Cease these quips! What do you intend to do with me? You mentioned repayment for your aid... what is it you want?"

"So many questions..." He turned his back on her again, and the shadows in the chamber shifted anew. "The chain is long enough, I suggest you make use of it."

"Wait! Wait, where are you going?" This could not be it. "You cannot just leave me here!" Ravenna cried after him, but there was no one.

A solitary sconce now burned against one wall of the chamber. Weary and aching, the woman slowly approached the dusty bed, falling against the sheets with little to no grace. She was alive; that was what mattered. But maybe not for long.

Somehow, this was still marginally better than having perished at the hands of mindless zealots.

She had never seen, let alone encountered and shared words with a being such as this before. The entire concept of their existence and manner of living was foreign to Ravenna, and despite her situation, the academic drive leading her forward won in the end.

A vampire.

How fascinating.

NEXT

[duckapus]

You Witness a Weeb's Revival

Welony grinned as her two favorite lackeys entered the room while in the middle of their latest argument, “well well well, look who’s finally home.”

Predictably, Kohga immediately stopped what he was doing to grovel, “forgive our tardiness, my Dark Mistress! We would have arrived sooner, but he caused our mission to take longer than expected!”

“Wha-me?! I did most of the work! Do you know how hard it is to search an entire exploded island, even with the water-breathing powers my mask gave me? You barely even got out of the boat!”

“I told you, I’m a weak swimmer! It comes from living in the desert!”

“Enough!” as amusing as they were, she had work to do, “it doesn’t matter how long it took as long as you got what we need. So did you?”

Byte smirked and gave a sweeping gesture towards the door with his right hand, “one mangled chameleon corpse, as requested.”

Right on cue, a quartet of Yiga Footsoldiers wheeled in a large cart that held a horrific, twisted mass of metal, glass, and charred, shattered, bleached bone. Though it was unrecognizable and very, very dead, Welony could feel the hatred and malice emanating from it.

“Oh yes, this will do nicely. Prepare the ritual!”

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

In a few minutes, the entire Clan had assembled at a large altar, and were creating a massive pile of assorted anime merchandise, boxes full of printed out fanfics, and even actual dvds and manga collections, along with some Mighty Bananas because of course they would. Set between the pile and a podium at the front of the altar was the corpse that Kohga and Byte had brought in, surrounded by candles lit with purple flames.

After the pile had reached a size Welony was satisfied with, she held up her hand, “Arrange the sacrifices!”

At that, three teletubbies, dressed as Sasuke, Hatsune Miku, and a catgirl maid, were led out while bound in ominously glowing chains and set around the pile at roughly the points of an equilateral triangle.

“And now, for the final piece,” this, she would do herself.

She floated up to the peak of the pile, placing one last item; an unopened physical copy of the Collector’s Edition of Kevin’s School, then went to the podium, where Master Kohga stood on her right side and Byte on her left.

“Now, let us begin.”

On cue, a Yiga Clan member who was quite conspicuously a default TF2 Pyro with a Yiga mask glued to their gas mask hefted their flamethrower and set the pile of offerings ablaze. Two of the teletubbies started screaming in agony, while the catgirl maid one was seemingly unphased.

“This is fine.”

As the offerings burned, the assembled Yiga Clan Members circled the fire and began to chant in order to strengthen their dark mistress’s already formidable powers.

“Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy. Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy…”

And so it went as Welony began to glow an ominous red, raising her hands to the corpse and pouring her power into it.

“HEAR ME VENGEFUL SPIRIT! I HAVE OPENED A CHANNEL TO THE LIVING REALM! RETURN TO YOUR EARTHLY VESSEL AND SERVE ME, AND YOU SHALL HAVE YOUR REVENGE!”

In answer to her calls, the corpse rose into the air, and both it and the bonfire were quickly engulfed in blinding white light. Catgirl teletubby was still unconcerned despite being reduced to a flaming skeleton in a cute dress at this point.

“I am okay with the events that are transpiring.”

Eventually it was too much and the group shielded their eyes from the glow, which then died down as quickly as it came. And when they did look, they saw that both the corpse and the offerings had been replaced by a hulking, skeletal figure.

It was clear from the body shape and pixelated art style that this had, at one point, been Francis. However, he was now several times his original size and just as picked clean of flesh as he had been moments ago. He was augmented with a variety of mechanical components, most prominently a wide array of different weapons mounted on his arms and tail, a vacuum tube running from the back of his head to the inside of his left hand, and two parallel rows of Splatoon-style Ink Tanks running down his spine. Both his eye sockets and a pulsing orb in his ribcage glowed dark purple. A Zelda-style Boss Caption appeared before him.

The Incel’s Vengeance

Stal-Zuccer

He leered down at the watermelon girl who had summoned him, and for a moment it looked as though he might attack her…before he ultimately kneeled, “SEN…PAI…”

Welony’s mouth stretched into a wide, sadistic grin, “Boys, how do you feel about a trip to the Splatlands?”

Kohga erupted into evil laughter, while Byte simply smirked, “I’ll pack my bags.”