#‘the entertainer’ felt too. ominous. for her

[aquamarinebling]

references for a pjsk x isat au I’ve been working on, using the wxs kirapipi outfits (+ mizuki, bc how could I forget mizuki?!), wherein rui is the one looping endlessly! yahoo!

bonus: rui fishing :]

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 1.

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another.

MASTERLIST TO ALL THE OTHER PARTS.

Link to AO3 in case you prefer to read it there.

The papers were passed around the Military board members, each set handed off in tense silence. The room’s air had cooled quickly as the sun dipped below the horizon, making Levi’s coat, almost too heavy to bear earlier, feel suddenly necessary. The chill seeped through the old walls, hinting that a bit of heating might soon be in order. 

With methodical precision, Levi slammed the stack of reports against the wooden table to align them perfectly, every edge sharp and in place. He moved aside the sticky notes he’d scribbled on hours before, crossing off the last item on his to-do list with finality. Job done for the day— 

“Well, that’s it,” he muttered, eager to leave the stale room behind. 

A pointed clearing of someone’s throat halted him, making him glance up slowly. Levi’s senses flared; he wasn’t done after all. The tension thickened, and the air shifted to something more ominous. His gaze travelled around the table, landing on each board member’s face. Some looked uncomfortable, others entertained, as if they’d been anticipating this moment. Hange, seated beside him despite their role as Commander now, avoided his eye, their head lowered in apparent resignation. Recent meetings had seen the appearance of new, vaguely unsettling faces, like Kiyomi's, who now looked across the table with a subtle smile. 

“Captain,” Zackly’s voice rasped as he cleared his throat yet again. 

“The day’s agenda is finished,” Levi stated, irritation biting at his words. The official telegram had detailed the topics to be discussed, all of which they’d already addressed. Anything beyond that, he knew, was meant to be cleared with the entire board beforehand. 

“This was a last-minute matter,” a Military Police officer interjected, though the smirk twitching at his lips betrayed more amusement than urgency. 

“Captain,” Zackly called again, knitting his fingers together. “You know we’ve always valued your dedication to Paradis.” 

The pause was rehearsed, the words strangely formal, making Levi’s eyes narrow. “What the hell is going on?” cutting through the man’s attempt at civility. 

“Let the Commander finish,” Kiyomi insisted, her voice smooth and elegant, though tinged with a superiority that grated on him. 

“We wouldn’t have managed to retake Wall Maria without your bravery—” 

“A lot of people sacrificed themselves for that,” Levi replied sharply, cutting off the praise that felt, at best, patronizing. “Including the previous Commander, Erwin. No need to thank me.” 

“Nevertheless,” Zackly forged on, tiring of the interruptions, “without your skill, all those sacrifices might have been in vain. Not only did you dare to fight for Eren’s retrieval from the Female Titan and against the former tyrannical regime, but—” 

“It wasn’t just me. My squad and the brat over there were in it too.” 

The tone of the conversation was growing increasingly uneasy, the excessive praise no longer just annoying him but setting off alarms. 

“Quite right. You and Mikasa were essential in humanity’s progress,” Kiyomi added, eyeing Levi with a calculating gaze. As her look shifted back to Zackly, Levi’s own attention followed. 

“What we mean to say is… even if Paradis positions itself favourably in the new world, more capable individuals like you and Mikasa would be ideal assets for our success.” Zackly straightened in his chair, clearing his throat for the third time, making Levi wonder if the man needed water—or to finally give up smoking like a chimney. “Have you ever considered marriage, Captain?” 

The question hit him like a bucket of ice water. It was so absurd Levi could only scoff. “What?” 

“How old are you now?” Zackly continued, feigning casual curiosity. “Thirty-three? Thirty-four? A prime age, I’m sure. And for a high-breed alpha like you—” 

Behind him, low chuckles began to echo from the MPs, each one making Levi’s grip on the chair’s arm tighten. 

‘This is a trap.’ 

“Whatever it is you’re implying, I I suggest you rethink it,” Levi spat, the weight of their words starting to settle. 

“Let’s be frank,” Kiyomi leaned forward, hands placed firmly on the table. “Captain, we once thought the Ackermans extinct, only to discover Paradis has not one but two. Even Zeke couldn’t deny that meeting you at Shiganshina was... less than pleasant.” 

“Of course,” Levi replied dryly. “I beat that monkey’s ass.” 

“Exactly.” The dark-haired woman showed no amusement, her voice all business. “To the point, then: we intend to provide you with a suitable wife to ensure that you bless this island with as many Ackermans as she’s capable of bearing.” 

Levi shot to his feet. “You must be out of your damned mind if you think I’d agree to this. I’m not here to be used as a breeding tool.” 

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be the one doing the birthing,” an MP remarked with a smirk as the rest of the board broke their facades, amusement flashing in their eyes. All but Hange, who looked as if they might vanish into their seat. 

“You’re insane,” Levi snarled, preparing to leave, feeling insulted to his core. “You can use Historia as your political pawn as much as you want, but I’m not some 17-year-old girl at your disposal—” 

“Think of it as a service to your country,” Zackly replied coolly. 

“I serve this island every damned day,” Levi snapped, baring his teeth. With a sharp slap, he pressed his papers against the table and strode toward the door, signaling his utter rejection of the idea. 

“If you won’t consider it…” Kiyomi's calm, piercing voice halted him at the door, the threat clear. “Then we’ll turn to the only other Ackerman left.” 

Levi stilled, staring at the golden knob in his hand, fury boiling in his veins. He wasn’t about to fall for this. 

“Mikasa is too valuable to be reduced to a broodmare.” 

“She’s a girl of duty,” Kiyomi replied, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Something you seem to lack. And she’s an alpha. I’m certain she could bear at least one healthy child before returning to the battlefield.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, pushing open the door with disdain. ‘Who the hell do they think I am?’ Hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, he stormed down the royal city’s military headquarters hallways, curses slipping from his lips. The whole idea was absurd; they’d lost their minds if they thought he’d even consider it. 

As Levi stormed down the dim corridor, every step sharp and swift, he couldn’t shake the rancor rising within him. The brazenness of it all, to drag him into their twisted ambitions with such flippant disregard for his will—and then to threaten Mikasa. The audacity alone made his fists clench. 

He barely noticed Hange keeping pace with him until their arm was outstretched, catching him by the shoulder. 

“Levi,” Hange began softly. Their usual spark was subdued, gaze serious, and voice almost apologetic. “I know you’re furious. I knew this would be hell to hear, but I didn’t know how else to—” 

“Save it.” Levi shrugged their hand off, glowering. “You knew, didn’t you? That they were going to bring this shit up?” 

Hange hissed, as if asking them to confessed was almost painful. “Yes… I knew.” 

Levi gritted his teeth, eyes dark with betrayal. “You agreed to this?” Both of them whispering on the empty cold halls of the building.  

“I… didn’t agree,” Hange answered carefully. “But I was there when the discussion happened. Look, Zackly and the others—” Hange hesitated, running a hand through their hair. “They’re dead set on this idea. They think they’re planning for a stronger Paradis, and if they think that means Ackerman bloodlines—” 

“Save the speech.” Levi’s tone was sharp. “They can be dead set on whatever they please, but I'd like to see them drag the entire MP battalion if they want to force me into this.” 

The past year had hardly been easy on either of them, especially Hange with their new title as Commander. Levi was well aware of this—yet the sense of betrayal cut deep. “For fuck’s sake, Hange, you could’ve warned me.” 

A tense silence hung between them, until Hange finally sighed and adjusted their glasses, pressing on the bridge of their nose. “You think I had a say in this? Kiyomi's paying for the entire coastal expansion and the railway. She thought it was a decent idea, and with her money backing it, she’s got the final word on everything.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, crossing his arms in exasperation. “Those bastards in the upper ranks are just itching to get on my last nerve since we changed the policies.” 

“Look, I know it sounds—insane. But maybe… if we don’t try to protect the future of the island, there won’t be one. And if there’s a way to keep the Ackerman bloodline alive, maybe there’s value in that…” 

“Don’t give me that bloodline nonsense.” Levi’s tone was ice-cold, his gaze sharp. “This is some harebrained scheme they’ve cooked up. And let me guess: it reeks of Zeke. That bearded bastard’s across the ocean, and he’s still screwing with my life.” 

Hange pressed their lips together, saying nothing. The silence was confirmation enough. 

“That son of a bitch,” Levi cursed under his breath. “He’s the one with royal blood, not me.” 

Hange’s lips twitched in something close to sympathy. 

“Well, since you two are such good friends these days, feel free to let him know he can kiss my ass.” 

“Levi…” Hange sighed, not because they disagreed but because Levi’s sense of betrayal cut both ways. They were the last two left of the original veterans—family in all but name. It wasn’t just an argument; it felt like a wound between them. 

Convincing Levi? Impossible. But convincing her? That possibility hung in the air, lingering like a storm on the horizon. Levi paced with conviction at first, then with dread. They both knew it, and, worse, Zeke likely knew it too. Mikasa had just turned seventeen, still almost a child, recently visited by someone claiming kinship with her clan. Levi couldn’t care less about all the ancestral politics, but he was all too aware of how they worked. 

“You can choose whoever you wish for the father,” they had told her, as if it was some generous offer. And, step by step, he watched Mikasa’s face transform from disgust to something akin to acceptance. Perhaps it was because she, too, held a certain pedigree; perhaps she felt duty-bound. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care what methods they used to sway her. 

‘She’s smarter than that,’ he tried to tell himself. 

But then he overheard Historia, almost childishly enthusiastic, whispering to Mikasa, “See? I told you—we’re girls with responsibilities.” The blood drained from his face. If they’d managed to convince Historia, to make her some kind of pawn in their twisted ambitions, what was stopping them from pulling Mikasa down the same path? 

‘It’s disgusting,’ he thought bitterly. ‘Maybe this is how those classist bastards operate. They talk little girls into this like they’re just trading dolls for something more ‘exciting.’’ 

That night, back in his office, Levi was a restless storm, pacing the room with his suit jacket hanging loose, fingers curled around his glass of whiskey, his movements sharp and frustrated. The glow of his cigarette flared in the dark room as he took a deep drag, gritting his teeth. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

Slouched in his chair, forearm draped over his eyes, his mind circled back to Mikasa’s hesitant, almost innocent blush—her teenage imagination painting a faint, rosy tint over whatever twisted future she thought she might face. And in his mind, as if staring him down, were Eren’s haunted eyes, that deadened look of someone who already knew more than he could say. Maybe the brat already knew Levi wouldn’t let it happen. 

“She’s a damn kid,” he muttered. The thought of Mikasa shouldering this burden felt like a betrayal of his own values. 

Though technically, she was not much younger than many girls who’d borne children before. But this felt different, disturbing— He let out a humourless chuckle, as a man that waits for getting hang. “Those bastards knew… I wouldn’t let them ruin her life like that.” 

And like a cursed prophecy that tightened its grip the more one tried to escape it, Levi found himself back in that same damned office, slouched in his chair as if seated at a poker table. Bargaining his future. 

Levi sat stiffly across from the military board, his expression a blend of frustration and disgust as they spoke. Zackly lounged in his chair, lazily smoking as the other officials presented folders adorned with detailed painted portraits, lists of family properties, and who knows what else. As they laid the offers on the table, a random thought clouded Levi’s mind: It feels like searching for a button that matches at the notions store. 

He was reminded of long strips of fabric with various buttons sewn onto them, each one a potential fit. “Many of the noble families are eager to show their loyalty to the new government,” one officer stated with a practiced calmness. “Some have offered up alliances in exchange for the return of their territories and titles. This includes a number of unclaimed young omegas. You’ll have ample choices.” 

Levi’s jaw clenched. He knew they expected him to appear grateful for the options lined up before him, as if he were selecting a new weapon. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms tightly. “I’ll be imposing some conditions.” 

They paused, exchanging glances. “Naturally, Captain,” one of the men replied, steepling his fingers. 

“No fancy bullshit,” Levi declared. “The wedding will be plain. Just a civil ceremony. I have no intention of making a spectacle out of this.” 

The room fell silent, the officers exchanging looks that spoke volumes. One of them cleared his throat, hesitating before responding. “Captain, you should consider—” 

“I’m not considering anything,” Levi interrupted, his tone sharper than before. “This is a plain arrangement, and it will remain exactly that. I don’t need fanfare or ceremonies—just a quiet signing of papers.” 

The officers shifted uncomfortably, their discomfort palpable as they struggled to reconcile Levi’s cold practicality with their expectations. “Think of the girl. Many young omegas dream of their wedding day, waiting for it their whole lives. It’s—” a female alpha soldier attempted to be the voice of reason, but Levi was clearly listening to none of it. 

“No buts,” Levi said, his patience wearing thin. “If I’m going to go through with this ridiculous arrangement, it will be on my terms. I’m not dragging this girl through some overblown ceremony when neither of us wants to be there.” 

With a loud sigh, Levi lifted himself slightly from his seat to grab the portfolios. He barely looked at them, frowning deeply. “Don’t you have pictures where they look— I don’t know—human?” he spat out sarcastically, noting how overly produced their painted portraits appeared. 

“That’s what’s in fashion,” one officer muttered defensively. 

Groaning in disinterest, Levi rolled his eyes. “Nobles and their weird tastes.” But as he turned the next page to examine the descriptions, it was as if the world had tilted off its axis. “Sixteen,” he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. He looked up, venom lacing his words. “You’re offering me sixteen-year-old girls? Girls who could be my damn daughters?” 

“It’s common, you know—” 

“I don’t care what’s common. Twenty-five,” Levi interjected. “At least twenty-five. I’m not getting tied to a child.” 

“Come on,” an exhausted soldier exclaimed, “some are seventeen, eighteen—” 

“Twenty-five,” Levi snapped, his eyes blazing. “I’m not interested in any of this unless you bring me someone who isn’t still in their childhood.” 

“Be realistic,” Zackly finally spoke up, looking weary and disinterested. “How many omegas do you know that aren’t claimed by twenty-five?” 

“Fuck if I know; that’s your job to find out, not mine.” Levi’s anger flared, echoing in the sterile room. “Weren’t you the one telling me to think of the girl? Don’t you think of her?” 

“Why? Are you planning on hurting her?” Zackly questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck no.” 

“Then I’m not concerned. Choose one and stop being a pain in the ass.” 

It was clear they were not going to reach any middle ground like this. Amid the hastily scribbled notes, he noticed a name: Y/N, age twenty-one. He pointed decisively at the line, cutting through the cacophony of voices. “That one.” 

There was no picture, no description—nothing. Perhaps it should have raised suspicions, but Levi was too tired for this cheap drama. 

“Why her?” one member scoffed, glancing at the paper. “We have better offers on the table.” 

Levi didn’t hesitate. “She’s the oldest.” He placed both hands on the table, pushing himself upward. He had made up his mind the night before; he just needed this to be over. Striding toward the door, he exited without allowing anyone to stop him. As he walked out of the conference room, he could hear the murmurs behind him. 

As the door shut firmly, one of the cadets held the papers against his chest, confusion written all over his face. Slowly, he turned to the higher-ranking officer. “Shouldn’t we tell him that she’s scheduled to marry this weekend to her childhood fiancé?” 

Zackly chuckled, flicking the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray. Between coughs, he said, “Oh well, he can find out from her once they’re both married. It’s no longer my problem.” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ THREE MINUTES ! - rindou haitani / 10.08 / kinktober

CW: public "sex", fingering, teasing, they're best friends, female anatomy, she/her used, one-sided pleasure, that's all lol

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: welcome to the fifth post of my kinktober series! i hope you enjoy. leave a like or reblog to show support. (updates this week might be off or posted on a diff day since i'll be traveling somewhere with family. if not posted on the designated day, it will be posted eventually when i get back home.)

it took a lot of pleading, a lot of pouting, and quite a bit of persuasion for y/n to finally get rindou to agree to see a horror movie with her. he’d been reluctant, as always, keeping his usual stoic expression as she begged, a faint sigh escaping him after she tugged at his sleeve one too many times.

“alright, fine,” he finally said, rolling his eyes with a small, barely-there smile. “but you’re paying for the popcorn.”

y/n’s face lit up instantly, and she practically bounced in excitement. “deal! you won’t regret it, i promise!”

now, sitting side by side in the dim theater, rindou was starting to question his decision. as soon as the movie began, he leaned back in his seat, trying to relax as the ominous music set the tone. y/n was fully immersed, her eyes wide as she clutched his arm during each jump scare, gasping and gripping his hand tighter with every loud noise and flickering shadow on the screen.

rindou, on the other hand, sat unbothered, his expression unfazed by the attempts to frighten him. he shot her a sidelong glance, noting the way she reacted to the tension, a small, amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. she was so easily scared, and he found it endearing, though he’d never say so.

about halfway through, he noticed something different. y/n’s grip had loosened, and her eyes, while still on the screen, had a faraway look in them. she seemed to be shifting in her seat, her legs rubbing together subtly, her face flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the horror unfolding onscreen.

rindou quirked an eyebrow, leaning over to whisper, “something more interesting than the movie going on?”

y/n’s head snapped toward him, caught off guard, and she felt a deep wave of embarrassment. “what? no, i was just... i’m watching, i swear.”

he gave her a knowing look, one that made her squirm under his gaze. “right. because from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re a little too distracted to be paying attention to what’s going on,” he murmured, his voice low, a faint smirk ghosting across his face. “did you really just waste our money on tickets just to get yourself all worked up over nothing?”

she huffed, crossing her arms in defense. “it’s not my fault! the movie got kind of... you know, intense, and you’re here, and...” her voice trailed off, and she glanced away, clearly embarrassed.

rindou chuckled softly, his usual calm demeanor breaking just enough for her to catch it. “oh, i see. so, you dragged me out here, begged me to watch this horror movie, and now you’re not even paying attention. that’s what i’m hearing.”

y/n pouted, tugging on his arm. “rindou, come on. i can’t help it...”

he leaned closer, his face only inches from hers, his voice a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. “can’t help it, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing. “guess i’ll have to find a way to keep you entertained, since the movie isn’t cutting it.”

her eyes widened as he settled back in his seat, his hand casually resting on her thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles over her skin. she shot him a look, torn between shock and excitement, but he just kept that same indifferent expression, his gaze focused forward as if nothing unusual was happening.

“rindou,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the movie’s background noise. “people are around...”

he raised an eyebrow, not bothering to look at her, his thumb continuing its slow, deliberate movement. “you’re the one who couldn’t keep it together,” he said with a smirk. “don’t blame me for distracting you when you’re the one getting ideas.”

y/n’s heart raced, the weight of their friendship hanging heavy in the silence between them. she knew they were toeing a line, crossing into something unspoken and uncertain, yet she didn’t pull away. instead, she found herself leaning into his touch, the thrill of it mixing with a quiet fear that they couldn’t just come back from this.

she looked up at him, a small, hesitant smile tugging at her lips. “you know we probably shouldn’t...”

“probably,” he murmured, his voice steady, but his hand never moved. he glanced down at her, his usual calm exterior cracking just enough for her to see something else behind it—a question, a hesitation that matched her own. “but we’re already here, aren’t we?”

they held each other’s gaze, neither of them willing to break the moment, knowing they were treading dangerous ground. but in the dim glow of the theater, with his hand on her thigh and her fingers inching toward his, it felt like a risk they were both willing to take, consequences be damned.

"if you don’t want this, tell me now."

y/n remained quiet and rindou glanced at her, seeing that her gaze was already on him. she reached for his hand, her impatience making her guide him up her thigh a bit more. rindou's eyes widened immediately when we wasn't met with any sort of fabric at all, but the immediate warmth of her sex.

"what the hell, n/n?" he questioned, not moving his hand, but the flustered expression on his face said enough. a shiver coursed through her body as he pressed his digits against her. "please don't question it." she sighed trying to keep her voice low.

"was this your plan this whole time?" he asked and she let out an embarassed groan and rindou felt some pity at that. they'd been bestfriend's since forever and despite his attitude, rindou would drop anything in a second if y/n ever asked. she always came first in every situation, and she knew that. "so you didn't wanna watch this movie afterall?"

she looked at him, nodding her head. "i did, but..." she trailed off. "but you're too focused on this, huh?" just then, his fingers used her slick to slip his middle digit into her sex. she bit down on her inner cheek and her legs tightened around his hand. "what got you all worked up?"

y/n remained silent, avoiding the question. this piqued rindou's interest, making him slide his digits in deeper. y/n let out a shaky breath, trying to not bring attention to themselves, but the more rindou pleasured her, the more she squirmed in her seat. "are you dodging the question, y/n? if you are, I'll stop."

"no, no. don't stop." she pled, looking at rindou with glazed eyes. "then tell me. i have a feeling i know what it is." he shifted himself in his seat. trying to ignore his current situation as well. he thanked the dark lightning in the theater that caused her to not see his growing erection. "i was just wondering how you would feel inside me." she managed to get out.

"it's not very nice to have those kinds of thoughts about your bestfriend, y/n."

"can't help-" she was cut off when his in and out motions quickened. y/n lifted her lips to lean back a bit to slouch in the seat. this newfound position allowed rindou to reach deeper, caressing that sensetive spot that would drive her insane. "you're not being as discreet as you probably should, n/n." a smile appeard on his lips.

"so hurry up." she managed to glare at him and rindou rolled his eyes, focusing back on the movie in front of them. his fingers held no mercy on y/n despite the occasional whimpers that she would try to hide in her palm, the fidgeting of her legs closing around him, and the way her hand gripped his wrist with all the strength in her body. "quicker you come, the quicker you can be quiet." he muttered, tone sounding unbothered.

"i couldn’t care less if anyone figured out what we were doing, but that's all you're worried about, huh, y/n?" he taunted. "too focused on them to come?"

he reached over to y/n, using his freehand to turn her head to him. "you have three minutes. if you can't come before then, I'm stopping."

"what the fuck, rindou?" she shot him a harsh glare and a smile barely made it way to his lips but it was filled with anything but purity. he was the biggest tease ever and y/n knew this but hated that fact that she put it past him especially in situations like these. "come on, n/n. your time is wasting."

he sped his fingers up and y/n held his wrist steady before she grinded down onto his digits. he caressed that pleasure-filled spot once again and she shut her eyes, trying to turn off the rest of her senses.

she heard rindou speaking, but it all sounded muffled to her. if she listened to him, it'll feel all too real and that would throw her in for a loop all over again. his digits felt just right and she thought that if she focused on them enough, she could reach her high in no time.

that was proven to be true when she noticed that he sped up his motions even more, helping her as she continued to ride them, not caring about the other eyes around her. "rindou." she muttered through a whisper. she heard him hum, but she couldn't trust herself to speak at the moment.

instead, she tightly held onto his wrist as she balanced on that familiar edge of pure bliss. "come, n/n." that was all ot took for her to tip over. she tightened her already shut eyes, hoping that she wasn't being too loud. her sounds of pleasure came out as a moan, but it was muffled by a hand that wasn't her own. she felt the cool touch of metal agaisnt her lip and she realized it was from a ring that rindou always wore on his right hand.

"two minutes?" he smiled, watching as she carefully opened her eyes, her chest heaving with a fast pace. "i'm never doing this with you again." she muttered, looking around for a gaze that met her own.

"of course not. that would be crossing the line, right?"

y/n didn’t miss the pure sarcasm in his tone and she hated how she only clenched around his fingers once more so no matter what she would say next, he knew what she felt deep down.

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[alastor-simp]

Sensitive Soul😔 - Alastor x Reader

Requested by @ju1yyyzzz

The Hazbin gang were all lounging around the lobby, minding their own business. Charlie was reading a story book, definitely romance. Vaggie had her spear in her hand, practicing her moves. Sir Pentious was observing her. Apparently Vaggie wanted to teach him some physical combat, since he relied too much on his gadgets and egg minions. He was sloppy, but he had a lot of confidence, which Vaggie respected. Angel dust was chatting away at the bar with Husk. Their relationship had improved a lot, leaving you feeling very happy to the point you cried. Zooming sounds were happening all across the room. It was Niffty, chasing after the insects with a knitting needle. The look in her eye was crazy and glad she was aiming it towards the bugs, and not you. Alastor was relaxing against a chair, legs crossed while sipping from a coffee mug. The hotel radio was playing a broadcast from the human world. The fact that it could pick up stations from the living world was insane. Must have been Alastor's doing since he always looking for more entertainment.

The phone in your hand was your source of entertainment for the time being, as you kept flipping through Sinstagram. Static emanated from the radio, beginning to play a broadcast in regards to some sort of pandemic happening on earth. The grin radiating on Alastor's face was nerve wracking, as he continued to listen in on it. "HAHA! How utterly entertaning! Makes me remember the good old days during the Great Depression! So many orphans!" It felt like you had been punched in the stomach. 'How could he find that entertaining'. Your thoughts were becoming depressing, and tears began to appear in your eyes. Charlie took a break from her book, and looked up, noticing your sad expression. "Y/N, Why are you crying?" Realization hit you as you touched your cheek and felt wetness. The room got quiet, everyone gazing at you with concerned looks including Alastor. "I-I'm I-. I need to be excused." Jumping from where you were sitting, you rushed out of the room, leaving everyone confused. Angel was the first to speak up: "What the f✪✪✪ was that about?"

Charlie felt the need to comfort you, but she concluded that your probably needed a minute to calm down. She looked around the room, observing everyone. "Did any of you say anything to them?" Everyone shrugged their shoulders, stumped. Niffty zoomed next to Charlie, wanting to tell her something. "She started to cry when Alastor was laughing about something on the radio." Eyes all turned to Al. Alastor still had a smile on his face, but mentally he was riddled with confusion. "I was only reminiscing about the past! My words did not bare any insults towards them!" A spear was drawn at his face, causing him to arch an eyebrow. Ohh how scary he thought. Vaggie was fuming, nearly about to strike Alastor. "Whatever you said apparently made them upset! Now go and check on them, bastardo!" The air grew ominous, as Alastor powers began to expand, clouding the room with black mist. The smile on his face began to grow monstrous, as his eyes turned into radio dials. "Now Vaggie! There is no need for threats! But I advise that you lower your w̶͈̒͜è̶̫̤͖̃̀̔̋́a̴̝̮̾̽̋̌̈́̎̍p̵̳̟̩͈̬̹͓̔̀͌ó̸̟̃ṇ̵̹̻̽̉ ̶̩̞͓̃̓͌̈́ȍ̷̬ṛ̸̨̡͈̹́͜ ̵̡͈̰͎́̚ḛ̴̞̯̭̥͊̅̇̃̎̆l̵̖̔͑͆̿s̸̙̐̌̐̆̓͠è̵̛̻͑̓̊͠!" Charlie jumped between the both of them, wanting to appease the situation. "Vaggie Stop!" Charlie words reached her girlfriend, causing the spear to be lowered, as she crossed her arms. Charlie then looked at Alastor, who had managed to calm down slightly, yet the air was still tense. "Alastor. Could you please check on Y/N?" A shook of his head, brought him back to normal, as he stood up from the couch. "All right!" The staff in his hand at appeared, giving it a twirl before he stood up from the couch, walking away with his hands behind his back.

"Now where could the little darling have gone?" Alastor announced to himself, as he ventured down the hallways. His first place to look would be your room. Giving a rhythmic tap on the door, he waited for you to open the door. His ears twitched, trying to pinpoint any sounds from the other side, but heard none. "Hmm. Not here." Alastor continued to look for you. The last place to look was the hotel garden. It needed a lot of weeding and pruning when he first arrived at the Hotel. Niffty and you were able to fix it right up, planting certain hellflowers and fruits and vegetables. Sounds of sniffling reached Alastor's ears, "Ah so you were here!" he thought. He found on curled on the ground, laying on the concrete ground, admiring the flowers. His eyes noticed the tear streaks that were still prominent on your cheeks. Turning your head around, you saw Alastor standing next to you, before looking away. "Why the long face my dear?" Alastor chortled to himself, while you remained silent. Your lack of silence bothered Al. He still couldn't piece together why you were crying in the lobby? He snapped his fingers, causing a cushion to appear on the ground. He didn't want to dirty his pants. Plopping down, he continued to look at you. His smile stayed the same, but his eyes were looking at you with slight concern.

"My dear, what has you so upset? Was it something I did in the lobby that bothered you?" He patiently waited for your answer. Wiping your tears with your sleeve, you turned your head towards him. "You didn't do anything Al. It was the topic you brought up that got to me!" Cocking his head, he pondered what you said. A lightbulb flashed in his head. "Ahh yes! The great depression!" His smile became giddy. His entertainment for misery was appearing again. "Yes. I know to you it was highly entertaining, but to others it wasn't. It just made be think about all the hard-times during that time, and the orphans and what-not. I know its stupid to cry over something like that, but certain things or topics I'm very sensitive too. Often times it results in my breaking down in tears like you just saw." Alastor continued to stare at you, while you talked. He was relieved he didn't cause something directly to upset you, but it did stun him a a bit at your reasoning. His years being a radio host/serial killer harden him, to the point certain depressing topics became utter joy for him. It gave him a bit of realization that subjects like this were very bothersome to others, including you. "I apologized if I worried you and the others. Just didn't want to cry in front of all of you over something stupid. Wish I wasn't such a cry-baby." Casting your eyes down, you gazed at ground.

A fluffy material touched your cheek, causing you to jump. Looking at Al, he was cleaning your face with a handkerchief. His signature smile, had dropped. It wasn't a frown, but he was a full on smile either. More of a slight grin. "Y/N, there is nothing wrong with crying over stuff like this. My time in Hell has made me immune to depressing topics. This doesn't make you a cry-baby, it just means that you have a pure soul. You care about the well being of others greatly, to the point of tears. It is quite alright my dear, and I would like to give a proper apology to you." His words were insanely sweet. More tears began to pour out your eyes, shocking Alastor even more.

"My dear?! What did I say? Why are the tears still coming from your eyes?" His actions were frantic, as he continued to wipe the tears from your eyes. The tears still flowed, but a smile was on your face. "Hehe, I'm sorry. Your words were very sweet and just made me very happy that I wanted to cry." Alastor gave a chuckle as well, shaking his head. "My my what a strange demon you were. Still, you were very adorable." He thought to himself. Soon the handkerchief had removed all of the tears that were flowing down. The signature grin he wore returned, as he got up from his position, snapping the cushion away. His hand extended out to you, allowing you to grab it. Being pulled up, you got up off the ground, and stood in front of Alastor. His other hand was placed on your cheek, giving it a stroke before returning back to him. "Shall we head back my dear? The others must be getting worried!" He smiled down at you, to which you responded back with a nod, as the both of you walked together out of the garden to rejoin the others.

~END~

*Tagging*

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen , @aceofcards0-0 , @jyoongim , @saturnhas82moons , @unholycheesesnack, @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah , @cookiekyo , @iiotic , @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie

[multiverse-sparkles]

Loving him was never enough — B. Barnes.

summary: you allow yourself to feel the loss and the hurt of his betrayal— but after this, you promise yourself; no more. this time, you leave bucky barnes. this time, you put yourself first.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: cheating, ANGST, more angst, allusions to pregnancy, cursing.

part 2 to this

the party was in full swing downstairs; another celebration for a reason you no longer bothered to remember. from the third year of your marriage, banquets and gatherings were a part of your week, either with your husband's business associates or simply just friends getting together for the sake of appearances, it was a chore itself to try and keep up with the latest reason for a celebration of such caliber.

yet you have always played your part well; smiling, cheering, and raising toast when needed be. you've also perfected the charade of a loving husband and wife, sharing ocassional whispers and laughter, perhaps even a lingering kiss; and sometimes, they were welcomed. sometimes, you do feel the tenderness as he gazes at you. you feel the butterflies whenever he would whisper something cheesy on your ears. even the touch of his lips upon yours were enough to renew hope, until, come another day.

but recently, you've only ever been feeling the heavy weight of dread on the pit of your stomach. something ominous, something akin to resentment ; an emotion you've never entertained, despite his numerous indescretions. his blatant disregard for the sanctity of your marriage has finally caught up with you.

bucky finally exhausted your love.

because as you stared at him, in his act of something so sinful, molding his body with another woman, fucking into her with wild abandon; it was like a bucket of cold water has drenched you.

you were suddenly all too aware of your surroundings, and your grip on the knob loosened, only enough to close the door back again.

the frames rattled, the occupants of the bed stilled, and only the patter of drifting footsteps filled the silence.

the same time bucky's blood ran cold in his veins.

you slept in what felt like, the best ten fucking hours of rest; awaking with the bright sun peaking from the spaces of the curtain, even the birds chirping happily, and for the first time in a really long time, you woke up with a contented sigh.

you were back in your old home, it's much smaller in size, and comparatively less luxurious than the estate you lived in, but it was home. and it was yours. something that could never be tethered to the man you called your husband.

automatically, you checked your phone for emails; several missed calls and text messages from bucky himself were what welcomed you, yet you opted to ignore them, instead checking in with your close friend and one of new york's finest; andy barber.

barber: will you be free to come to the office at around ten? i can discuss your options, and we'll have to go through the paperwork to sort out whatever you need to do.

barber: also, while we're at it; i'm proud of you.

for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes, you thought back to your back and forth correspondence the night prior— thinking, had you really made the decision to leave him? was it real this time?

could you live without him?

you'd pondered about the prospect most of your marriage, ultimately coming to a conclusion that it was difficult to eject james out of your system. he was your entire world and existing without him was a thought that couldn't even exist in your orbit. and ultimately; can you really live the rest of your life, chained to a man so warped up in his own selfishness without making the effort to actually consider what you may be feeling?

can you continously gaslight yourself into thinking that he loved you; in his own, twisted way. that he was only so weak of a man to deny the temptations and wants of his flesh— were you not so tired, and broken down by his false promises, that you ache, deep in your soul.

when will you realize that the only person who deserves unlimited forgiveness was yourself, and not the man who promised you forever; but stomped and ran over the tattered pieces of your heart.

your hand touched upon your stomach, a protective instinct blaring noisily in your head; you have not only yourself to think about now.

years of trying had not once bore to fruiton until now— you wipe the hot tears streaming down your face, a sob echoing in the stilness of the room. why was your love so cruel to you? why was it that you had let things go this far with a person such as james?

you cry out. torn and heart wrenching cries as you let yourself feel the years of betrayal, and heartache, promising yourself that this will be the last.

soon.. you hope; soon, you will no longer cry for him.

[mrinafria]

Seen some viewers not liking The Judge from Hell for different reasons, and I think I kind of get why (just my guess). Also, disclaimer (in case it's not obvious enough): I respect and am fine with anyone disagreeing with me and not liking the show for whatever reason.

If you've watched The Devil Judge, then The Judge from Hell is not that. Unlike The Devil Judge, it doesn't have a dark, grim, ominous setup that stays true to that heavy vibe till the end. If you've watched Lucifer, it's not that either. Close but also not really. Unlike Lucifer, The Judge from Hell hasn't shown us an anti-hero/anti-heroine who, underneath the charisma and confidence and tricks and looks, is full of self-loathing, unprocessed angst and human-like emotions. I'm just going off of the 8 episodes of TJFH aired so far. Unlike Lucifer, Justitia doesn't seem to display a subconscious desire not to be misunderstood and abandoned, nor does she feel complex emotions about humans and humanity (it's just starting with Daon she still has a long way to go). We don't see a Fallen/Demon with a semblance of a moral compass here.

Even her "I trust what children say" doesn't mean much because she doesn't do that out of some morality; to her, it's just facts that children are the least crafty and least vile amongst humans. Justitia is very mechanical (and petty even) in what she does- she's not on some great self-discovery or redemption journey in here to even entertain the notion of humanity or morality. If we expect such nuance from her so early on in the story, we maybe setting ourselves up for disappointment. Y'all she's been doing this for Lord knows HOW many hundred years. It's not her first gig. If you have been having coffee at night despite being an insomniac for like three decades, it's highly likely you'd stop thinking or caring about the morality, the 'rightness' of drinking coffee even when it destroys your health.

It's like that for her, to the point where she can, in fact, treat every murder, every crime, every criminal lightly. She's been the judge, jury and executioner all along, and that's the job she needs to do well on earth too. As audience, we may be living on earth longer than she's been but the moment Justitia stepped in, it became 'her world' that we're now getting a peek at.

She's not some vigilante or messiah; just an eccentric, murdering demon from hell who likes Z cola and a pretty wardrobe and Han Daon too- what's wrong with that lol. I remember seeing similar sentiments when Vincenzo was on, because some felt the comedy and humor didn't go well with the overall theme, with a psycho CEO committing all kinds of crimes+ ML's childhood grief and mafia ptsd+ revenge etc. I feel like it was a conscious choice not to make the show so heavy or serious, despite the subject matter. TJFH feels like it treats heavy stuff casually because it is mostly shown through Justitia's lens, and so far, SHE has been treating heavy stuff casually. She really doesn't feel anything emotionally for the girl being in an abusive relationship, or the child being with that horrible excuse of a stepmom. All she sees are the sinners and their sins, and whether they can help her fulfill her mission.

But even that is changing now, gradually, with Justitia/Kang Bitna starting to feel more and more human emotions (props to Daon).

Now, could we have gotten a more nuanced character arc with a serious undertone? Maybe yes, maybe no. The story is yet to unfold fully so I say it's too early to decide that? However, three things that come to mind are: 1. kdramas generally don't get seasons unlike TV series in the US or UK, to explore things gradually with each season geared towards a certain theme or development. Lucifer did what it did in six seasons. 2. I've noticed that unless it's a super horror, super apocalyptic or dystopian show, kdramas like to incorporate humor in their story no matter what genre it is (even shows like The Light in Your Eyes or Moon Lovers or Hi Bye, Mama have their lighthearted moments). Kdramas aren't perfect. Different shows become perfect to different audiences because of their personal preferences. I watch the show because the trailers promised us a fantasy drama with angst between the leads, because it gives me a good laugh, and also maybe because a small part in me kinda sorta lives vicariously through Justitia's ultimate reckoning lol.

I'm actually glad it's not a heavy show because the stuff they've shown so far can be quite disturbing and triggering and I'd be very hesitant to proceed with it if that were the case. 3. I think it's also okay to acknowledge that not all writers/creatives would prefer to do the research needed to pull off certain themes, nuanced character arcs and dynamic, which can leave some viewers wanting more out of a character/show too.

It's fine not to like a hyped drama or a character (happens to me too). But in my opinion, the show is delivering what it promised to deliver initially, and I'm glad it is.

[elizais]

black and blue

pm!reader x chuuya summary: reader comes back from a long mission exhausted, hurt/comfort, chuuya takes care of you warnings: alcohol, injuries

mori knew you would be gone for a few weeks, but chuuya knew you would be gone for too long. everyone knew about you and chuuya, staying in their line but always discussing how the executive who put people in their place was with the only ray of sunshine in the organisation. executive nakahara did care for his subordinates, but didn't show it like you did. you weren't open about how you joined but everyone had their theories because it didn't add up compared to your kind nature. only a few people knew why you were there, you didn't dwell on it. you didn't enjoy this line of work but you done it to protect the city you held so dear to your heart.

you had been at the port mafia for so long your only boss was mori, you stood with the executives. fortunately, this meant less missions away and taking care of your people in your section. unfortunately.. this meant the most important assignments went to your level. it just so happened to be that your specialised skills were the only ones to fit this task. it was dropped on you at an executives meeting. mori sat in his chair at the end of the table. looking up and down his sheet of paper, every last executive bored to death.

you looked at chuuya across from you, finishing your doodle with a smile. elise was sat next to you and the other side of you was kouyou. you lifted up the notepad so that chuuya saw the blank side of it and you nudged elise. she began to laugh at your very unflattering drawing of a carrot wearing a hat. knowing exactly who it was directed to. in the middle of entertaining elise, mori spoke again after inspecting details on the document that could upset a room in seconds.

he cleared his throat as he said, "there is an incredibly strong organisation emerging in another city. it will have to be taken down by one of you guys." he paused as he inspected the faces of the people who carried this city on their shoulders with him.

despite your playful nature, mori knew better than most how serious you could be for the sake of your home. "it will be y/n." he watched elise's face drop almost as fast as the colour drained from chuuya's face. no matter the amount of protesting from other executives, elise, even the lowest members (most likely only caring because chuuya is less likely to be angry when you are around). mori had told you that in two days time, you would leave for at least a week.

and that is what lead you to now. chuuya had been noticeably off his game for the past 12 days, everyone knew the reason. no contact was allowed at all. but, as he settled in to being back at the large penthouse after another long day, the home your paychecks covered more than comfortably, that felt a little larger now. the man got up to pour himself a glass of wine, allowing the screen on the wall to load up. as he sat back down and flicked through the mindless tv shows on, a groan came from behind the elevator after the familiar noise of an incorrect code, and then the ding of the correct one. his body immediately knew who it was, his face lit up and he forgot about everything bad in the world.

until, the person who he wished he could always be around was looking at him through bloodshot eyes surrounded by ominous dark circles. his idea of happiness and all things lovely was leaning on the wall for support with an unusual unkempt look.

his love looked like she fought a bear in the elevator, she saw him for the first time and allowed her tired face to use the last of her energy to smile. he immediately ran over to you. you had sunk against the wall with your legs in front of you. chuuya thought he was under a horrible ability until you spoke to him "i missed you, chu.." you spoke croaky, weak and coarse. your broken voice pierced his heart with the shards it left in the air.

your scalp had dried blood clinging to it, every other inch of your body scraped and scratched. he was thankful there weren't any deeper wounds, other than the one that appeared inside of him. "c'mere doll," he spoke to you, barely above a whisper. despite what many think, he is still exceptionally strong without his ability. seamlessly, he picked you up from under your shoulders, pressing your chest to his and allowing your head to look over his shoulder. "let's get you a bath." he finished as he carried your body through the corridors of your home.

he was thankful that your 'expensive taste in bathrooms' (as he always teased) lead to large, marble counters attached to the wall, so he could let you sit on them and lean against the wall as he ran the water into the corner bathtub you also insisted on getting. "do you want to talk about it?" he asked you with his sympathetic tone. "mori was not joking when he said they were strong.." you tried to laugh out but it came out emotionless as you looked at chuuya grabbing the bandages in the cupboard. "you don't need to try and keep everyone in a good mood at the cost of your own, y/n" he responded with his back turned to you.

"aren't those the ones dazai has for when he comes over for a movie night?" you dodged his previous statement with your question. chuuya scowled at the mention of his name even though you know he trusts him.

"yes, they are. damn mackerel always inviting himself over." he spoke as he grabbed a washcloth to gently clean your face whilst taking off your clothing. you knew he wasn't doing it in a sexual manner and was genuinely worried. "did you take down their boss?" he spoke after a comfortable silence. "barely." you sighed.

after he cleaned the dried dirt off with the washcloth, he lifted you into the bath and soon he followed suit, grabbing a gentle shampoo, the matching conditioner for your hair, and a hairbrush. he was not sure if you even saw the state your hair that you love dearly was in.

as he sat down by you in the tub, he turned your head so he could brush your hair, gently wetting it so that it would be easier to get through. you leaned back, almost falling asleep. he didn't mention the jagged cuts in your hair or the thinner patches. he could tell you were in a close combat fight and his heart broke. chuuya assumed you hadn't seen your hair yet, he didn't ask as you had finally steadied yourself since arriving home.

he didn't notice you falling asleep until your head fell to his chest, using his gravity manipulation to keep you sat upright without noticing as he finished taking care of your hair.

eventually, he dried your body and hair whilst moving you with his ability so you could stay asleep. waking up the next morning in your bed like you should.

[some-pers0n]

Hey, I really like your WOF rants so. Pick any character to talk about if you want. I will listen *sits on a couch with some popcorn*

I think the Jerboa chapters are the best things to come out of all of arc 3, perhaps even the whole series. I honestly wish it was its own separate winglet entirely tbh since I think it's a little jarring in TDG since it goes from pretty light-hearted, albeit tragic and somber bits of Snowfall trying to make it through becoming a queen whilst all this stuff is going on, and then it very quickly veers into This

I'm always a big sucker for animus magic being taken to its fullest potential. The user is essentially given god-like abilities with arguably zero drawbacks. The only thing that can corrupt is your own morality and mind. It's nice good horror to me. I liked the SeaWing massacre and everything that Darkstalker did, but it never felt far enough. The closest was Fierceteeth being warped and sculpted by Darkstalker to resemble Clearsight and him constantly rewriting her personality to try and act like the Clearsight he loves (which can never exist because of how far gone he's gone)

The Jerboa chapters deliver on that and more. It's subtle too. It isn't wholly in your face, instead being a revelation that Boa has been altered and changed an unfathomable amount of times by her own mother in order to be the perfect child. The way Jerboa sees Boa is unsettling with how little love there was. Boa was more of a source of cheap entertainment for Jerboa as opposed to an actual daughter. The way she has to check constantly to see if she even still likes Boa and uses it as a means to prove that she's definitely 100% still all there is so so so good. Not to also mention the fact that Boa is the second attempt at a child. We don't talk about Jerboa II (which makes it far more ominous)(oouhohohhh it's so good)

I just really think the chapter is a great display of Tui's ability to write characterization. In such a short amount of time, we have such a clear-cut idea as to what kind of a character Jerboa is. It's really fun and so neat and creepy. Really love it. Wish we got more of it...

[sunflowersandsapphires]

The Sun Will Rise

Wake Up, Chapter 8

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: sexual assault themes and descriptions, if non-con themes trigger you please do not read. other warnings: swearing, misogynistic language, violence

This chapter is very intense. I tried to keep the S/A stuff as not graphic as possible to avoid triggering people but it is very much there and the violence is more present than any other chapter.

a/n: Today has been a fucking DAY yall. My new cat got sick (he’s ok he just ate too fast and then got sick on me and my bed which was gross), I am having issues with pay equity at work, and trying to deal with utility issues in my house. I am very sorry for the late update. PLEASE let me know how you feel about this chapter, your comments and reblogs literally make my day every week. 

w/c: ~4.5k

Four years ago, you’d been desperate for a change.  Despite spending thousands on a fancy degree, you had gotten nowhere in the legal field and your job waiting tables at a diner in Queens barely paid the bills, though you were grateful for the work. 

Pouring coffee and taking orders wasn’t the worst job you’d ever had and the majority of customers during your shifts were sweet. You played the role of “cute, friendly waitress” well, making even the grouchiest patrons appreciate your soft smile and quick response time. Maybe this persona you’d adopted in your efforts to avoid your crippling anxiety was the reason he started looking your way. Perhaps it was your obvious desperation to be liked. Whatever it was that drew his attention, it was your eventual disinterest that kept it. 

The first day you met James Lannister was a shitty one. You’d worked a double shift, meaning you had been less than perky towards the end of it, leading to stupid mistakes and screaming customers. Emotions were running high when he took a seat in your section, so his calm demeanor and attentive smile drew you in. 

He’d only made pleasant conversation with you the first few visits. Asking about your day, your week, your hobbies, your interests, your family, your aspirations. Anyone would’ve been eager to spill their guts to him, he was quite charming. The way that his green eyes pooled with fascination as you spoke was almost reverent. No man in your life had ever made you feel that way, like nothing else in the room mattered. 

Which is why the red flags zipped right by you without triggering your internal security system. Day after day, he’d visit your place of work after his own shift at the Pro Bono Association. He’d ask his questions and encourage you to ask your own, which led to a standing invitation to sit with him when there was a lull in traffic at the restaurant. Your shared interest in the legal system and his willingness to share a slice of that life with you compelled you to take him up on the offer. 

Next came the gifts. Little things, at first. Large tips, suggestions for weekend entertainment complete with a gift card or fully funded ticket, books to further your legal studies after work. It was strange, but the attention was divine. He wasn’t an ugly man, and you’d never felt noticed like this before. 

Eventually, he’d goaded you into joining him and his wife for dinner at their house. Mrs. Lannister was beautiful and cunning. On the surface, she was always polite, reassuring, more than willing to host you or have you join them in public, but there was an ominous undercurrent that you never could place. The way she looked at you when her husband turned his back was almost murderous, but you were so caught up in the idea of being wanted that you glossed over the tension between the two of you. 

You were lonely, sure, but you never wanted romance or…other things…from Lannister. To you, he was a mentor, an idol. Someone to live vicariously through while in a transition period in life. But after accepting all of his kindnesses, you’d unknowingly crossed a line. 

Before it all fell apart, it almost seemed like universal intervention. During a seemingly mundane conversation, Lannister clasped his hands over yours with a giddy expression. It seemed that there was an entry level position opening up at the PBA office in Queens and he thought you’d be perfect for it. Not only would it be a substantial pay raise from your current position, but there were opportunities for growth and he would be your boss. 

At the time, it felt like a miracle. Your ticket to the next stage of your life. And it was, but letting your guard down for that shark ended up being the biggest regret of your life. 

Transitioning into your new role wasn’t seamless, but you took it in stride. Your eagerness to take on complex projects and expand the mission of the organization impressed the more seasoned employees. Lannister began taking you to lunches, galas, drinks, anywhere that he could introduce you to his network of attorneys. It was thrilling to be thrown into the world you’d always dreamed of and received with such open arms. 

For a few months, it was pure bliss. Until the night you placed your first case. 

Placing the case itself was unproblematic, you were happy that you fit into the role so well—and you expressed such sentiments to Lannister who invited you over to his house to celebrate. Arriving with a bottle of your favorite wine, it was immediately clear that something had changed. The once cozy house was in absolute disarray, riddled with empty liquor bottles and boxes of feminine clothes. And, although Lannister had implied there would be others there, you found him alone. 

Lannister noticed your wandering eyes and explained that his wife had left him. He told you not to worry about that and to focus on your personal success. The two of you enjoyed some good food and cheap wine, the older man drifting closer by the glass. Eventually, you felt your eyes growing heavy and he insisted that you stay over given the late hour. 

That night, you dreamt of a large shadow, looking over you while you slept, warm touch dancing over your clothes. You tried to protect yourself, but your arms wouldn’t respond to the commands your brain sent. When you woke up, you found your skirt unzipped. 

It got blurry after that. Lannister’s very public divorce led to inopportune inebriation, massive hangovers in the office, lewd comments, and wandering hands. While you still accompanied him to events, he began claiming you in public in increasingly repulsive ways. Holding you by the waist, kissing your cheeks, stroking his fingers over your neck, using that disgusting pet name. My little Princess. 

You only tried expressing your discomfort once before it escalated. You’d approached him in his office after lunch, when he was likely to be more sober, and hesitantly asked if he would consider pulling back. You’d been met with the most terrifying display of anger you’d ever seen. You hazily recall books being thrown, hits landing along your arms and torso, insults being hurled at you. 

He had made you. You would be nothing without him. You were ungrateful and whoreish and conniving just like his wife. While the memories faded, the scars from your skin splitting over the hinges of his office door still shone in certain lights. 

After that his actions were deliberate. His lingering touches scalded you. Being alone with him meant sentencing yourself to torture. When he was angry, he’d call you into his office to “talk it through.” To your absolute horror, these talks often involved a locked door and drunk hands groping your trembling form. 

For weeks you endured his abrupt switches between calculated insults, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, and inappropriate contact. You were barely alive, going through the motions and slowly convincing yourself that you deserved it. You’d fallen out of contact with your friends, were so emotionally fragile that a stern look from a stranger could send you into a panic attack, and you found yourself so nauseous that the first few hours of each day were spent hugging a toilet. 

It was clear you needed help, but Lannister was your boss and his threats terrified you. He’d made it clear that if anyone found out about his behavior, it would cost you your livelihood. As an incredibly well-known attorney with an impeccable record, there was no way you’d win in court, he had too many friends on the force or the bench. Not to mention how new you were to the organization. Despite his growing alcoholism, your coworkers were as enamored with Lannister as you used to be, the chances of them believing you were minimal. 

So, you stayed, trapped in a nightmare of your own unintentional creation. Until a position opened up in Manhattan. 

Applying on a whim, you’d kept your application a secret, not expecting to even get an interview. But, apparently the managing attorney across the East River had heard your name through the grapevine because she reached out within the week to schedule a lunch with you. 

The heavy weight that hung over your shoulders like a shadow has lessened considerably in the days leading up to the lunch. The possibility of escaping the hell you were living in quickly appeared like the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Manhattan was beautiful and the employees of the PBA office in Midtown were ecstatic to meet you. It was the best day you’d had in months, until you got back to your own office. 

Realizing you’d forgotten an important file you needed for a clinic the next day, you walked briskly through the quiet building, hoping to get in and out without running into your supervisor. Unfortunately, the world was not that gracious. 

As you rummaged through your desk, the overhead lights turned on making you flinch. Your hands stilled over the file cabinet, your breath catching on your throat. 

“You little bitch.” Lannister was furious if the rage dripping from his tone was any indication. “Tell me, Princess, why did I receive a call from Midtown about how happy they were to have finally met my assistant?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat constricting as if wrapped with fabric. Frozen in place, you heard him approaching and you cowered. 

“Thought you could go behind my back? Leave me high and dry without a warning? You owe me, little princess. After all I’ve done for you…”

Whether from fear or something else entirely, your brain blocked out the rest of his actions that night. You came to shaking on the floor, bloody and partially undressed, but you weren’t alone. Lannister had disappeared, thankfully, but your coworker stepped into your office with a shaky inhale. 

Erica was a young attorney who’d started a few weeks before you. Your emotional state had made it difficult to grow close to anyone in the office, but she’d always seemed sweet. And, fortunately for you in the end, she’d heard the commotion your boss had caused before storming home. 

As your wonderful coworker helped you clean yourself up, you tearily confessed the secrets you’d worked so hard to hide. Disgusted, Erica had encouraged you to speak to HR and you’d submitted a complaint later that day with her assistance. 

You owed Erica a great debt. Over the period of the investigation, she’d become a fixture in your office, making sure to keep you at a distance from your abuser. Without your prompting, she’d offered the committee looking into the allegations her full testimony. You were quite certain that her statement is the reason Lannister was fired. 

In the weeks following his termination, you felt like a new woman. You’d moved to a cute little place in Hell’s Kitchen and begun your new work as a volunteer coordinator. While you still struggled with crowds of lawyers and the taste of alcohol, a good therapist and a decent amount of time had helped you heal a considerable amount. 

Enough to open yourself up for the possibility of a relationship, which you weren’t sure you’d ever want after everything you’d been through. Meeting Matt had changed that though, turning ‘never’ into a ‘not right now’. 

Sweet, considerate, adorable Matt who had brought you more comfort than you ever thought you deserved. Who was probably still furious with you for falling for him, but you couldn’t help but plead with the universe to send him anyway. Please, Matty, please come for me. 

As the muggy van rumbled over potholes and uneven roads, you pictured his beautiful face. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How his brow furrowed with concern over the most minor harm that had befallen you. The beautiful way his lips melded with yours as a single kiss made you feel weightless. You regretted not kissing him one last time before ruining what you had. 

I’m sorry, darling. Please don’t let them take me from you. I’m not ready to let you go just yet. 

As Matt neared the 4th floor, a knawing pit of dread grew in his stomach. He could smell your tears, newer than those that had fallen after he’d left, but your heartbeat was nowhere to be found. Frantically pacing the hallway, he quickly noticed your suitcase abandoned a few feet from the door to your shared room. Crouching down, he tilted his head, evaluating the scene. The scent of your fear coated the floor, walls, and fabric of your bag. You must have been terrified for it to penetrate your surroundings to that degree. Underneath your pheromones, Matt shuddered with rage as the sickly saccharine fragrance of Beatrice Snyder’s reached his sensitive nose. Mingling with her perfume was a different smell, smoky and dark. 

You’d been cornered by Snyder and an unidentified man, he was sure of it. Fumbling to find the right end of his key card, he threw open the door and stripped out of his suit. Given that he’d intended to share the night with you, he’d intentionally left his body armor at home. A black long sleeve tee and scarf around his face would have to do tonight. 

Stepping back into the empty hallway, he fled to the stairs. While the scent of your fear only fueled his dark anger, it was strong enough to leave a trail down the stairs and out the back door into the cool night air. As inconspicuously as possible, Matt navigated through the building, dodging employees and guests successfully until he reached the loading dock behind the kitchen. Your scent stopped here, replaced by the smell of gasoline. 

No, no, no. Where are you, angel? What happened to you? 

Matt growled in frustration, spinning around desperately searching for any sign of you, he ripped his phone out of his pocket and pressed your speed dial, hoping that you could still reach your phone. 

Receiving nothing but your voicemail message in return, he felt his fists clench. “It’s going to be ok, my beautiful girl. I’m coming.” 

Replacing the phone in his pocket, he took off in the direction of the strong scent of auto fuel, praying to God that the most recent vehicle would lead him to you. 

The van jolted to an abrupt stop and you slid along the dirty carpet into a seat in front of you. Your back ached from the jostling you’d gotten on the ride to whatever destination you’d apparently arrived at, and you could feel the imprint of thousands of plastic carpet strands that had melded with the flesh on your cheek during the drive. The sound of car doors slamming and the heavy footfalls following made you strain against your binds one final time. 

A large, rough hand snatched your ankle, yanking you towards the night air at the tail end of the vehicle. Kicking your legs wildly, you flopped like a dying fish along the carpet as you were slowly pulled outside. The fingers at your ankle moved to wrap around your throat, forcing the airway to constrict. Struggling fiercely against your captor, you heard a familiar, rasping voice from behind you snarl, “Shut her up, you idiot!” 

Lannister’s goon pressed a sharp implement against the soft flesh of your stomach. “Keep movin’ and you’ll lose a lot more than your man, bitch.” 

As your squirming died down, reality set in and tears began flooding down your face. It was over. He’d won. All of the efforts that went into putting distance between the two of you were meaningless. He’d found you, and Snyder was going to take Matt from you because of it. 

You were roughly stood on your feet and forced to move in the trail of Lannister and his other goon. Eventually, you were forced into a cold metal chair, binds attached to the stiff bars of the furniture. Your blindfold was ripped off, though your gag remained. James Lannister’s ferocious grin appeared in your line of vision, making you flinch. “So glad we’ve been reunited, Princess. We’re gonna have some fun.” 

The group had taken you to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There were broken wooden palettes and scraps of steel scattered around the floor. Holes in the sheet metal walls allowed cold, winter air to blow crisp waves of wind through the space, raising the hairs on your neck. A gaping hole in the roof above you showers you in moonlight, illuminating a small s circle around you and Lannister. 

A knife glinted in your peripheral vision and you whimpered, squirming involuntarily. Lannister grabbed a fistful of your shirt, yanking you forward with a growl. “The more you squirm, the more damage I do, little princess. I’d hold still if I were you.” 

With that warning, he slashed a jagged cut in your top, nicking the skin along your collarbone. A hand ran over your hair, grasping the strands and tugging so that your face was turned towards your captor’s once again. “There’s my obedient little pet. Was wondering where she’d gone.” 

Bile rose in your throat as Lannister stroked his massive hands along your face, planting heated, bourbon-soaked kisses along your neck and down your chest. Prying away your torn clothes, he turned to face the goons. “Is it ready?” 

“Yes, sir.” One deep voice responded from the shadows of the warehouse beyond your visible surroundings. “Before I have my fun,” Lannister stepped aside, revealing a tall dark shape topped with a blinking red light. “I’d like to record a confession, dear. For my sanity, and for the board to know the truth.” 

Raising his barely slurred voice, he turned to the camera. 

“State your name, for the record.”

“Please don’t do this. I don’t—“ Your pleading morphed into a screech of pain as the point of the blade ripped a gash in the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Wrong answer, pet.” Lannister took a swig from a practically empty bottle of liquor that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. A trail of blood wormed its way to the cement floor, pooling at your feet. You stared at the river of red liquid for a moment before stammering out your name. 

“That’s a good pet. What’s your relation to me, my dear?” Chucking the now empty bottle aside, it shattered at your feet, spraying you with cheap alcohol and pieces of glass. 

“I worked with you. In Queens.” A smaller knife plunged into the meat of your thigh and you screamed in agony. The larger of the two goons shuffled into your wavering vision, smiling as he wiped your blood from his hands. 

“More specific, Princess.” Lannister spat at you. 

“You were my boss.” 

“That’s right. Now tell us, how did you get me fired?” 

You sobbed, “I didn’t, I wasn’t—“ Grasping the knife still planted in your leg, Lannister twisted it, grabbing your throat. 

“Yes you did, you miserable bitch. You ruined my fucking life. I lost my divorce settlement, my job, my house, my reputation. All because I took an ungrateful slut under my wing.” Ripping the blade from your body, he hurled you to the ground. 

“TELL THE TRUTH!” Lannister roared, sending a brutal kick into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. “Tell them that you seduced me for months and then used me to land a promotion. TELL THEM THAT YOU TOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE FROM ME AFTER I’D GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING!”

Stomping over your body again, he stumbled backwards allowing you to cough out a response. “I—I took everything f-from you. I was un-ungrateful.” 

Lannister cackled, pulling you from the ground by your uninjured arm. “Turn the camera off. They won’t want to see this next part.” 

The goons stepped forward to follow your former boss’s orders, but a piercing sound from outside halted them in their tracks. A horrific shriek, the sound of metal grinding on metal, echoed through the warehouse. All three men froze, looking to each other as if expecting to find the cause of the noise at the hands of their fellow assholes. Dropping you hard onto your shoulder, Lannister turned towards the source of the creaking and your head lolled after him.

As the door to the warehouse slammed open, you cried in relief as your weak gaze made out the black clad figure against the night sky. Daredevil. Your devil. He came for you. Tears poured down your cheeks and your limbs tensed, Matt’s presence drawing you in like a magnet. 

Lannister huffs out a laugh. “The fuck do you want, shadow man? Don’t you have robberies to stop?” At his sides, the other men shuffled nervously, knives gripped firmly as they awaited their next command. 

Matt stalked forward into the warehouse, his body stiff as it held his rage back, visible tension like that of water building against a dam. Fists clenched, he prowled an arc around your three kidnappers. “Step the fuck away from her.” His deep timbre was pitched exceedingly low with pure fury and it sent ripples of goosebumps across your bare skin. 

Drawing the handgun from the back pocket of his slacks, Lannister stepped towards you once more. “Do your worst, Devil. She’s not leaving here alive.” The world slowed, as if the air around you was suddenly thick as molasses. Your eyes were processing as much as they could as dread settled in your stomach. The barrel of the gun moved across Lannister’s body and pointed at you as his meaty thumb cocked the weapon. 

Simultaneously, Matt’s athletic form rocketed forward, skillfully dodging the swings from both of your unnamed assailants and leaping at Lannister. A gunshot rang and you traced the bullet as it soared towards you. Suddenly, your vision went white as pain seared through your body following the pointed metal cylinder as it tore through your abdomen. Screaming in anguish, your ears rang with a high pitched tone, the flash of white across your sight fading to black. The only thing you could focus on was the burning agony as the puddle of your blood seeped into your torn clothes. Forcefully shutting your eyes, your inhales turned shallow, and you prayed to your beloved Matthew that he would get you out of here before you took your last breath. 

Matt’s skin was alight with rage as he maniacally tore through the three brutes to reach your collapsed form. The head captor’s words barely registered in his ears over the deafening sound of a gun being pulled. No. Do not let it be her, take me. The safety was undone as Matt ripped one man’s shoulder from its socket, using the falter in his steps to knock him unconscious. He needed to be faster. He had to reach you. Planting a hefty kick into the next guy’s stomach, he brought his billy club up to meet the force of the man’s own body weight bringing him down. A hollow thud of a body on cement meant there was one attacker left. And then came the gunshot. 

As the bullet escaped the barrel it was encased in, Matt roared, the devil inside him fully consuming his consciousness as tackled the shooter. Knuckles connected with a jawbone, then the softer cartilage of a nose, then the lumpy space of a rib cage. Matt poured every emotion he had into this criminal, each punch holding seeds of guilt and regret and desperation. 

The smell of your blood cascading over the dirty floor broke him from his trance. Dropping the battered body of your captor to the floor, he dove beside you, hands hovering over your body as he assessed the damage. 

Sobbing in relief, he cupped your face as gently as he could. “It’s ok, angel. You’re gonna be ok. They’re not gonna hurt you anymore. Just breathe with me, please sweetness, breathe.” 

Your shallow pants stuttered as your hand weakly grasped his shirt. “Ma-Matty?” 

“Yah sweetness, it’s me. I’m right here. Gonna get you out of here, ok? Just hold on.” Ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, he pressed it over your largest wound, biting back a pained sound of his own when you hissed. “I know, I know, angel. I have to stop the bleeding.” 

The soft smell of salt melded with the metallic odor of your blood. You were crying, holding on to the fistful of his shirt like it was a lifeline. “Y-you came for me? I’m—I’m so-sorry” 

Stroking your face lightly before he dialed 911, he cooed. “Of course I came, lovely. I’ll always come for you. Always. Now you just focus on breathing. In and out, sweetness. Good girl, just like that.” 

At the operator’s greeting, he spit out a rough command for police and an ambulance, giving a brief description of the events that had happened. Next, he pleaded for their help. There was no way he alone could get you to a hospital in time. 

“They were holding her hostage. She’s been shot, stabbed too. Lost a lot of blood. She’s still alive but she needs medical attention, please hurry.” He spit out the approximate location, scrubbing tears from his face as he pocketed his phone. 

Pressing his forehead to yours delicately, he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl. It’s going to be ok. I’m so sorry.” Your hand raised shakily to cradle his nape. 

“Matty,” Your voice was weak, but determined. “I—I need you to know—“ 

“Hey, this isn’t one of those moments, sweet girl. You can tell me later, when you’re healing. You focus on—“ 

“No, please.” You begged, he fought back a choked cry so that you could say your piece. 

“I love you. S-so much.” You heaved a breath.  “I’m sorry that I ruined—“

“Shh, you didn’t ruin anything.” Matt chided gently, tears slipping faster after you'd confirmed his previous mistake. “I love you too, my wonderful, sweet girl. I won’t let them take you from me. I won’t.” 

“I’m sorry.” You choked out, and then you fell out of consciousness. 

Matt collapsed against your chest, clinging to the sound of your weak pulse as his body trembled with sobs. He planted soft kisses to your hair and cheeks, stroking lightly over your skin as he willed God to save you. 

The distant sound of sirens forced Matt to pry his face from your pummeled body. As the sound of vehicles approached, he made sure to alert the paramedics to your presence before taking back to the shadows. Hearing the clamor of attendants around you, he made a promise. “I’ll be there when you wake, angel. I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

[eternalreignblog]

Clarke blackmails Lexa into sleeping with her otherwise she will release her nudes

Lexa's pulse shoots through the roof when she gets a response from Clarke instead of Costia.

She can't believe how careless she was, 'Clarke' is right next to 'Costia' in her contact list and instead of sending the mirror topless pic to her girlfriend, she'd inadvertantly sent it to her colleague.

Her colleague who was going for the same promotion.

The panic starts to rise within her as she opens Clarke’s message.

Is this your way of bribing me to drop out of the promotion race? Cause I bet if I send this to Kane he'd be mighty disappointed in you Lexa...

Lexa could read the sarcasm in the text, picturing Clarke’s arrogant smirk as her eyes traced the ominous message.

Fuck.

Lexa was sure Clarke would send it to their boss too, that was just the kind of calculated, manipulating tactic she would use to get ahead.

That was meant for Costia! You can't send it to Kane!

Lexa typed out desperately.

I don't know Lexa... it's mighty offensive to receive unsolicited nudes from a work colleague...

Bullshit. Lexa knew Clarke was probably jerking off to her pic right now. Asshole.

Lexa sighed in resignation. Clarke held all the cards here, and Lexa was going to have to play her game if she wants to keep her job.

What do you want?

Nerves wrack her as she waits to hear Clarke’s demands.

She didn't have to wait long.

I'm bored tonight. How about you entertain me.

Lexa stares at the message for a moment. Before she can ask what it means, another message comes through.

319 Arkadia drive. Apartment 7. Be here in an hour.

What the fuck. Lexa’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Clarke wanted her to go to her apartment?

Lexa weighs her options. She could do nothing and potentially lose her job. She could go to Clarke’s apartment and see what she wants. She could tell Costia... no. Not an option. Costia is the jealous type and won't take this well at all. Plus, she's away on business, she never has to know.

Deciding, Lexa looks at her watch. She has 45 minutes to get to Clarke’s place.

***

Lexa looks up at the door in front of her, barely registering how she got here.

Before she could knock, the door swings open, revealing a smug looking Clarke, dressed casually in loose shorts and t shirt.

"You actually showed up?" Clarke sounds both surprised and amused as she looks Lexa up and down, eyebrow raising as she took in the skinny jeans and white tank Lexa was wearing.

"What do you want, Clarke?" Lexa asks, getting straight to the point.

"Exactly what I said," Clarke turns and walks into her apartment, clearly expecting Lexa to follow. Closing the door behind her, Lexa ventured into Clarke’s domain, taking in the simple decor.

Clarke plopped down on the sofa, looking back at Lexa who was now standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

"I want you-" Clarke pointed at Lexa, "to entertain me," she capped off by pointing to herself.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Lexa asked, starting to get annoyed.

"Take your clothes off,"

"I- what?" Lexa stared incredulously at Clarke, barely believing her ears.

"You heard me. You sent me that pic, now I want to see more. It's your fault, really,"

"I'm not a stipper!" Lexa protested, but was faced with Clarke’s signature smirk.

"Then I guess Kane is gonna see your tits. Your choice," Clarke laughed at her own joke, Lexa seethed.

"Fine," Lexa spat, ripping her tank top over her head and starting to unbutton her jeans.

"Whoa, slow down there. I want to enjoy this," Clarke said, eyes locked on Lexa's bra covered chest.

Grumbling, Lexa complied. Turning aroind and bending over as she dragged her jeans down her legs.

"Fuck yeah, that's it," Clarke’s voice had gone husky, and Lexa felt a small thrill at enticing that reaction out of her. "Turn around and take your bra off."

Lexa turned, seeing Clarke with her hand in her shorts, staring at her like a piece of meat. She slowly unhooked her bra, sliding it down her arms as Clarke ogled her.

Never in a million years would Lexa have ever pictured herself in this position, standing in Clarke’s living room wearing nothing but her lacy black panties.

Lexa waited for the next instruction, watching Clarke stroke herself in her shorts as she stared at Lexa's body.

"You're pretty fucking hot, you know that, Lexa," Clarke complemented, "take your panties off for me,"

Hooking her thumbs under the soft lace, Lexa complied.

And that's how she found herself completely naked in front of her biggest work rival.

Lexa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to settle herself. When she opened them again, Clarke was on her feet. Lexa could see the outline of Clarke’s cock in her shorts and an involuntary gush of wetness hit her at the sight.

She cursed her body for responding to Clarke, but she had to grudgingly admit the other woman was hot.

Clarke was in front of her now, hands raising to cup her breasts.

Fingers pinched her nipples and Lexa fought hard to contain a moan, not wanting Clarke to know how turned on she was.

"Much nicer in person," Clarke said as she moved around Lexa, hands groping and touching as she went.

"This is your best asset, though," Clarke said as she grabbed a handfull of Lexa's ass before giving it a slap, causing Lexa to yelp in surprise.

Clarke chuckled at her reaction, coming around to face her again.

"You tease me every day with your tight jeans and fuck me eyeliner," Clarke’s hands found their way to Lexa's hips, "no way that tit pic was an accident," she added as one of her hands slipped between Lexa's legs.

This time, Lexa couldn't contain the moan as Clarke’s fingers slid easily through her folds, spreading her arousal and feeling her swollen clit.

"Fuck, I knew you wanted me," Clarke’s husky voice was laced with arousal, "you're fucking soaked," Clarke said, sounding smug.

Clarke’s fingers were working magic between her legs, dipping into her wet pussy and circling her clit. She had to put her hands on Clarke’s shoulders to maintain her balance as Clarke fingered her.

"I need to fuck you," Clarke stated, spinning Lexa around. Before Lexa's brain could catch up, she was bent over the sofa with Clarke behind her, one hand on her hip, the other shoving her shorts down her legs.

Lexa could do nothing to stop is as Clarke lined up her cock and pressed forward. There was little resistance as Lexa was well lubricated, Clarke sliding easily into her pussy.

"Oh fuck, Lexa. You're so tight," Clarke praised as she slowly fucked into Lexa, going an inch further each stroke until she was buried deep and Lexa could feel her balls resting against her pussy lips.

Lexa had to take deep breaths. Clarke was much bigger than anything she'd taken before, and so thick she could feel the stretch.

Clarke held herself deep for a few moments, as though she was savoring the feeling.

"I'm going to fuck you hard now," she warned, slapping Lexa's ass. She pulled back until just the tip was inside before slamming back in, jolting Lexa forward on the sofa.

After a few more deliberate strokes, Clarke took off, pounding Lexa into the sofa woth strong, powerful strokes. Lexa had never been fucked like this before, hard and dirty, and a part of her knew that this had unlocked something within her.

Lexa was so fucking turned on.

Clarke’s cock was pistoning into her and she gave up on holding in her arousal. She screamed out and reached underneath herself to rub her clit.

"Oh fuck, Clarke, you're cock feels so fucking good," Lexa said breathlessly, pushing back onto Clarke’s thrusts as she worked her clit.

"I knew you wanted it, walking around the office so prissy. Bet your girlfriend doesn't fuck you like this," Clarke taunted as she changed the angle, pumping down into Lexa with abandon.

Lexa didn't want to admit how right Clarke was. Costia and her made love, and until now, Lexa never knew how much she needed someone to just fuck her.

"Just shut up and fuck me," Lexa shot back at her, feeling the threads of pleasure weave through her body.

Clarke landed a slap on Lexa ass that echoed around the apartment. "I'll fuck you how I want to," Clarke said arrogantly, pulling out of Lexa and causing her to whine at the loss of contact.

Clarke manhandled Lexa onto her back on the sofa, holding her legs apart as she stood over her.

"I want to watch you when you cum on my cock," Clarke said as she slid her dick back into Lexa.

Lexa looked up at Clarke, noting she'd lost her shirt at some point, and Lexa now had a view of her spectacular rack, bouncing deliciously as she fucked her.

"Clarke.." Lexa cried, sliding a hand up to pinch her own nipple as Clarke’s dick created incredible friction in her cunt.

"So hot, gonna fill you with my cum," Clarke murmered, letting go of one of Lexa's legs to play with her clit, thumb flicking over the sensitive bud as she pumped her hips into her.

"Cum on my dick, Lexa, I know you want to," Clarke was timing her thrusts and her thumb in such a way that Lexa was hurtling towards the edge at lightning pace.

"I'm close, oh fuck, don't stop," Lexa gripped the sofa in her fist, holding on for dear life as Clarke fucked her brains out.

Lexa cried out as her climax hit, rolling her hips into Clarke as the pleasure spread through her. She felt her pussy clenching on Clarke's cock, the other woman pausing her thrusts to take advantage of the feeling.

"That's it, let go," Clarke crooned, slowly pumping her hips to ride Lexa through her orgasm. "God, I could watch you cum on my cock all day," Clarke said, picking up the pace as Lexa's pulsing slowed down.

Lexa's mind was just coming down from the high, and before she knew it, Clarke had stepped it up, clearly chasing her own orgasm as she fuck Lexa harder and faster than ever before.

"Oh fuck, ahhhhhhh, oohhhhhh," Lexa could do nothing but go along for the ride as Clarke unceremoniously pounded into her, holding her by the ankles as she slammed her hips into Lexa's over and over.

"Gonna cum in you, get ready," Clarke grunted thrusts getting erratic as she got close.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Clarke jolted, slamming into Lexa one last time and her cock pulsed, releasing her seed into her waiting pussy.

"Oh yeah, take it," Clarke huffed, giving her hips a few more pumps, making sure every last drop had been deposited inside Lexa's cunt.

They lay there, Clarke above Lexa, Lexa’s legs spread wide, both breathing heavy as they came down.

The gravity of the situation hadn't settled in yet. At some point, Lexa would have to face the fact that she just cheated on her girlfriend. With her work rival. But that time was not now. Now, Lexa was just revelling in the afterglow of the best fucking she had ever had.

Clarke’s dick softened and withdrew from Lexa's pussy with a rush of combined fluids.

Clarke stood, holding her hand out for Lexa to take, lifting her to her feet.

"Care to take a shower?" Clarke asked, voice softer than it had been before.

"Yeah, yeah. I think I need it," Lexa said lightly, motioning to the mess between her legs.

Clarke smiled at her, almost affectionately as she led her towards her bathroom.

"I've got some clothes you can wear after if you want to stay, and, you know, hang out for a bit," Clarke offered almost tentatively, and Lexa found, rather surprisingly, that she wanted to.

"Yeah, I think I'd like that," she said.

"Don't worry, either. I'll delete the pic you sent," Clarke said as she started the shower running.

Lexa's impulses took over as she pulled Clarke to her.

"Don't. I want you to keep it," she said, taking note of the shock in Clarke’s eyes as she pulled her in for a feiry kiss.

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.6

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - The day of the Mourning Ceremony has arrived. Shanda has followed through on her promise and gotten her and her two brothers out of attending. They make a trip to the Redfork to conduct their own ceremony.

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, mentions of injuries, adult language, period typical misogyny, condescension, adult language, complicated family dynamics, feud behavior, benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 3.7k

Bit of a chonky chapter. But I’m setting up for some very entertaining scenes and there’s a lot of context to establish first. Per GoT/HotD fashion, no one can ever have too good of a time without something happening. This is very true here.

!MINORSDNI!

Shanda stared out her window, watching the drops of rain run down the glass slowly. Thunder rolled over the castle in waves, the sky a pit of shadows reflecting the somber mood of the day. There was no wind that day, giving the air a stagnant feel and bells rangs in long ominous tones, giving a haunted mood to everything. She was dressed in a long white gown, the sleeves nearly dragging the ground alongside her. A gold belt around her waist was her only accessory, her hair hung in waves around her shoulders. She did not have the heart to look in the mirror, afraid to see her mother’s ghost looking back at her.

Her mother had died in an ambush on the Kings road two years ago while returning from Shipbreaker Bay. Imagine surviving the rough seas in a perilous journey and arriving to die on the “safest” road in the kingdom. There had been little evidence pointing towards the reason for the massacre either. Nothing had been taken from the carriage, no luggage disturbed. Her mother still wore all of her jewelry even. It was strange beyond measure and no one had yet stepped forward with any information. The carriage had been found by a passerby who had notified the nearest neighbor, who had brought news to them.

To say it had been devastating to their family would be an understatement. Her father never truly recovered from it and refused to mention her at all. Royce was worse of all though. He harbored a deep bitter hatred that he couldn’t seem to overcome over the matter. Given the circumstances, Shanda could see why. The mourning ceremony tended to use the deceased as religious symbols for the gods rather than celebrating their lives as individuals. Royce could not stand to hear their mother talked about like a saint.

So despite the oppressive mood hanging around the castle she felt excited still. She had managed to free herself, Royce and Martyn from the ceremony. The Septon had agreed they could just as easily conduct the mourning rites along the Redfork. Her father had insisted Martyn accompany them and that had suited her just fine. She’d get to leave the castle walls and free her brothers from the ceremony. They would share stories of their mother and maybe splash about the river before returning home. The main thing they had to do was wait long enough for the ceremony to end back home.

In the days that had passed since her last outing, the stormy weather had persisted. Some days it was merely a drizzle, others it raged and poured. But they did not see the sun for days and days. It was worrisome that the storms were here so early and so intensely. Late autumn storms weren’t uncommon but typically it would be sticky and hot in the river lands in the late summer. What’s more, the storms here rarely persist this many days. A storm would roll in, rage and then leave. Today’s soft pitter patter was tolerable for an outing.

She had instructed her brothers to meet her at the east gate, wanting to avoid their chances of being held up together before they left the castle. Her father would love to find a reason to delay them if he could. It was still very early and the morning fog covered everything. It was hard to make out which way she was going in the yard and only found her way to the east gate by memory.

“There you are sister, about time.” Royce snapped, clearly already agitated.

Martyn stood stoically beside him looking paler than ever. Okay, maybe her imagining them frockling in the river had been a tad bit optimistic given the day.

“Good to see you too brother. Martyn, are you feeling alright?”

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” The glassy look in his eyes did not inspire confidence within her.

The three of them exited the eastern gate and Shanda began to lead them towards the river. She took care to lead them further east before cutting north. She wanted to avoid the center of the borderlands where conflict raged between the two houses. Her father had finally bothered to set his own guard in the borderlands, useless as they seemed. She hadn’t seen a single one since they’d set out. Where exactly where they guarding? Their guards seemed to be baited in fights every other day. And they were fights only, not a single death had occurred following the arrest warrant. Reports from the border indicated if they engaged to kill, the Blackwood guards would disarm them before beating their opponents bloody but perfectly alive. There had been a marked increase in broken arms however and that was a disturbing image for her.

They walked for ages, to avoid the Blackwoods, but also because she enjoyed being outside again. Even if one of her brothers looked on the verge of throwing up and the other practically had steam coming out of his ears. The tall grass was swaying softly and the ground wasn’t completely wet, giving them a semi solid surface to walk on. Occasionally a bird would swoop off in the distance, perhaps looking for a dryer spot.

“How long are we going to walk? Shouldn’t we be there?” Royce complained.

“I’ve led us further out, don't want anyone sneaking up on us do we?”

“Why bother? We’ve got Martyn. Right Martyn?”

Royce smacked his arm lightly as if he were jesting but his tone was too angry for it to work. Martyn just kept walking ahead, saying nothing and occasionally swallowing like he had too much spit in his mouth. That didn’t please Royce at all, who was clearly itching to fight someone. She was all the more thankful that she had led them away from the usual haunts of guards if that was the attitude her brother was going to be swinging around. Before he could muster up another snide remark the rushing sound of the river picked up and soon the sight of the blue water could be seen through the tall grass.

“See. Didn’t take us that long after all, Royce. Have some patience.” She said, trying to lighten the mood but he only shoved passed her towards the water.

She took the moment alone with Martyn to talk to him.

“Martyn, what’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

If it were possible, he turned even paler at her words.

“It was just a nightmare I had. Don’t worry about me, Shan. We better look after Royce before he tries to fight the river.”

Incredibly skeptical but unwilling to push him on the matter currently, she nodded. They joined Royce beside the river, he was crouched low his hand in the rushing water. He looked deep in thought.

Due to the rocky weather and the sheer amount of rain they’d received lately the river was moving quicker than she had ever seen it. The sound was so relaxing as it streamed downhill, she found herself wishing it would always rush like this.

“Do you want me to start?” She asked when her brother failed to move at all.

He stood abruptly though at the sound of her voice as if he had just remembered she was there.

“No. I’ll go first.” His voice was hoarse.

“Our mother was a great woman. She was kind and fierce and she loved us all. Though she had reason enough not to.”

Shanda smiled at his words. It was the happiest she had heard in him in a while.

“She was the glue that held our family together and I miss her everyday.”

“That’s really beau-“

Royce cut her off, his tone bitter and biting. “I’m not finished.”

Bewildered at his change in mood she motioned for him to continue.

“She was murdered by those filthy barbarians across the river and you keep frockling out here like they aren’t a bunch of bloodthirsty freaks!”

She was so taken aback she stood there for a moment, mouth agape.

“Whoa, hold on now. You asked me to get you out of the ceremony! I did that. You're welcome by the way, it was a lot of work. And I led us out of the way to avoid the Blackwoods. We also don’t know who killed our mother, that’s a serious accusation to make Royce.”

“Oh that’s rich. Are you seriously defending them right now?”

Shanda took a deep breath trying not to let her rising anger get the best of her as he moved closer and closer into her personal space.

“I’m not defending anyone, least of all those idiots. I’m simply pointing out that you can’t go around throwing around accusations of murder without any proof!”

“Their very existence is proof! Our father told you not to come out here and mess with them. And you just couldn’t help yourself. Now our guards come back covered in blood. What about that?” He pushed his finger sharply into her chest at his question and it was the last straw for her.

She pushed him back with a frustrated sigh escaping her. “Bloody and alive baby brother! They come back bloody and alive. Does that sound like the type of person to murder a woman in her carriage while she was defenseless? Just stop and think for a second would you! I came out here to try and help us. I actually want us to get ahead of them. That’s why I’m out here trying to find a way to bring them down. What have you been doing? Besides being a sulking angry little jerk of a child? Hm, what have you contri-“

Royce cut her off again this time screaming at her. “Shut up!” Then he ripped the sword Martyn had been loosely holding away from him and swung at her. She leapt out of the way at the last second, the sword only managing to nick her shoulder. If she’d stayed still he might’ve sliced her head off. That seemed to snap Martyn out of whatever spell he was in as he immediately began fighting Royce for the sword.

Martyn managed to rip the sword away from him, but Royce was bigger and knocked him onto the ground before turning his attention back to Shanda. The river was at her back and Royce approached her looking half crazed.

“You’re a disgrace to our house. And no sister of mine.”

And then he pushed her as hard as he could, sending her tumbling into the rushing river.

The water was colder than she expected. That was her first thought as her head broke the surface and she coughed up water. The current was sweeping her downstream and already she could barely see her brothers in the distance. Her second thought was that her dear brother was starting to get on her last nerve. I mean really, trying to cut her down with a sword? Kinslaying is the most cursed crime among the gods and he would commit it on the day of the mourning ceremony? He was an utterly lost cause.

She tried several times to pull herself out of the river but the current was much stronger than it looked. She was pulled underneath the water many times as the river bent and turned. Luckily Shanda was a pretty fair swimmer and she was always able to pull her head back above the water. She was pulled further than she ever could have dreamed before a fallen tree gave her the opportunity to pull herself out. She grabbed the low hanging branch and used it to pull herself up and out of the water. Her arms were shaking from swimming in the current for so long and she collapsed atop the tree, soaking wet and exhausted.

She lay there for longer than she should have but nowhere near as long as she would have liked. Eventually she forced herself to her feet, she had to find her way back home. She looked around at her surroundings hoping to see a familiar landmark that could help point her in the right direction. The river ran to the west and as she looked around it became clear she had traveled a great deal. She was too far downhill and would need to trek back up the river to have any hope of finding her way back. The trouble was, she had gotten so turned around while in the river, she wasn’t sure which side was the Bracken side. With the current that strong, she wouldn’t easily be able to cross if she happened to be on the wrong side.

She hadn’t brought anything with her. She was with her two brothers, what would she have brought? Royce was hurting that much was clear but his behavior was unacceptable. She was going to their father first thing when she got back. He would be furious with his behavior. Pushing her into the river, what a joke. She walked for a while before she started taking care not to be seen. She felt silly sneaking around in an empty field but it was always better to be cautious. The tall grass hid her well enough but the morning fog had thickened around the river providing her even more cover. Occasionally she would stop crawling to pop her head out and have a look around at her surroundings.

She traveled for what felt like an eternity before finally off in the distance she spotted the familiar copse of trees that marked the familiar territory of her part of the Redfork. She paused for a moment to rest once she spotted the trees. The sky had grown darker in the time it had taken her to come back. And she wondered if her brothers had made it back home yet. Whether her father had sent men out looking for her yet. She wished they would hurry up if they were looking for her. She bit back a yawn and began crawling in the grass again towards the gathering of trees. Wandering through the thick tendrils of grass she couldn’t help but hope she didn’t run into a wolf out here. Wouldn’t that top this day off as the worst one in a year?

Thankfully no wolves appeared and she reached the trees without incident. She carefully crawled inside before rising to her full height. She had done it! Now all she had to do was walk home. That normally would be an easy task but she was so tired and her entire body ached. Her head hurt and her throat was sore from coughing up river water. Her shoulder also burned from where Royce had cut her. It had stopped bleeding though and she considered that a blessing. Slowly and surely she began the grueling walk home. It took her twice as long as usual and she cursed herself for being so slow. She couldn’t will herself to pick up the pace however and settled for admiring the nature around her.

Looking out she saw the same familiar grass and trees stretching out before her and soon she’d see the back watch tower rising in the distance. She couldn’t wait to take a warm bath and crawl into bed. Maybe her brother could wait until tomorrow. Her walk was more of a meandering sway at this point, the fancy slippers she’d worn out here were gone and her feet were cut from stones in the river and sticks in the mud. The bottom of her dress was filthy and she struggled to keep her head up, having to carefully pick her away around the ground.

When she finally looked up again, sure she would see the watchtower, she experienced a nasty shock at the sight that greeted her. It was a watch tower alright, just not hers.

“Oh. Oh.” She said once she realized.

She turned and ran with what little energy she had back the other way. Why hadn’t she seen any guards? Were the Blackwood guards also as useless as the Brackens? Why were they posting all of these guards if they were nowhere to be found? Her run had gradually slowed into a jog simply because she couldn’t keep the pace up. The wind and the rain was starting to pick up again when she ran into them. A group of six or seven Blackwood guards emerged from the trees, they were laughing and talking completely unaware of her. Her first instinct was to freeze, going completely still. Were they shifting changes this early? It couldn’t be later than the afternoon. Or had she been out later than that?

Thankfully her second instinct was to drop to the ground, hiding in the grass and praying they didn’t walk her way. She waited as the group grew closer, their voices getting louder as they did.

“Did you see the look on the lad's face when I took his sword from him?” One called out to roarous laughter.

“The smaller one could hardly be called a warrior at all. He hadn’t even gotten a punch in. All that shiny armor wasted on Bracken filth like him. Still say we should have stripped it off of him.”

Shanda felt a horrible terror grip her. A wash of hot fear went through her at their words. Surely they weren’t talking about Martyn and Royce. Heart pounding in her ears she listened for more.

“No, it would only make you a worse man for having touched it. It’s better that we tossed them.”

Her heart seized up at that. They hadn’t killed anyone right? She waited on pins and needles for them to pass, sure one of them was going to spot her. Or worse, stumble into her in the grass as they walked by. But as the voices gradually grew further away she could have wept for joy. Not wanting to take any chances she kept her head down and continued crawling away through the grass. If she made it out of this unscathed she was truly going to stay inside, the river clearly wasn’t a place of luck for her lately. It was while crawling through the grass that she ran straight into the enemy.

Because she never looked up, she ran right into a straggler from the earlier group of guards. Right into his knees that is. She crashed her head against his knees, falling backwards and just laying there. She hadn’t really expected to make it out of here unseen. She had ventured much too far into enemy territory to come out the otherside unscathed. It was when her enemy leaned over her, casting a shadow that she decided maybe the river lands weren’t cursed. Maybe it was just her. She was too tired to react. This day had it out for her and she was tired of fighting against what seemed to be her fate.

“Hello there little criminal. Come to face your trial after all?”

The smug grin on his face would have made her angry if she could summon the energy. One hand rested on his sword, the other he held out to her.

“Would you believe me if I said I got lost?” She asked, taking his hand and heaving herself up though she did not want to.

“A seasoned warrior like you? I’m well and properly shocked.”

She ignored his mocking tone. There was no chance she got out of this predicament now. She cursed Royce for being such an annoying immature child. She didn’t want to go on trial for attempted murder. The Blackwoods wouldn’t exactly give her a fair trial. Maybe her father would kick up a big enough fuss to get the Tully’s involved.

“I have to insist you send a letter to my father, telling him of my capture.”

Benjicot smiled at her before wrapping a hand around her wrist and leading her back toward Raventree.

“As it is, criminals don’t get to insist on anything. However I’m sure your father already knows. We encountered you brothers earlier looking for you. Only we found them and they didn’t find you.”

Despite her outwardly calm demeanor she was freaking the fuck out. Her thoughts were anxiously spiraling into the worst case scenarios. She had seen the guards that came back half beaten to death by the senseless brutes over here. Martyn had been half mad today already, she couldn’t imagine he could have held his own. And Royce was still so young, he spent his days laying on hay bales for the Mothers sake!

“Are they okay? What did you do to them? Tell me!” She demanded trying to yank her hand out of his grip. Unable to feel his skin on hers for fear of her brother's suffering.

Benjicot just laughed and pulled her closer against him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“They’re fine, silly. We needed them to be able to walk back. How else would your father know you’re going to face justice for being a little sneak? When we told your brother we caught you on our land, spying again in broad daylight. Well, you should’ve seen his expression.”

She stared at him in horror.

“That’s not true. I got lost. And besides you’ve only just found me now!”

The foul man beside her shrugged, still grinning.

“He believed us and it turns out you were actually here committing the crime anyway. It’s all the same thing.”

“It is not the same thing! My brother pushed me in the river, you jackass. I got swept downstream and I couldn’t figure out where I was. I thought I was walking home. Believe me I’ve had a bad enough day without adding you to it.”

He squeezed her shoulder replying, “Aw, you poor baby. Have you not figured out by now you don’t belong out here?”

Her face burned in embarrassment before she snapped back at him. “I was out here for the mourning ceremony. Gods, can we walk back in silence? I’m a prisoner right? You don’t do idle chatter with prisoners do you?”

“No.” He agreed. “But I also don’t let them walk my land. I’m being generous to you, little criminal.”

“I am not a criminal!”

“Are you a prisoner or not? Make up your mind, love.”

“I’m nothing okay! Let’s just get on with it.”

“Okay nothing, are you going to admit to your crimes?”

“I haven’t committed any crimes. The land is neutral anyway. You are insane and should be stripped of your title.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Raventree Hall loomed impressive in front of them and Shanda tried to hide her fear as he led her up the hill.

[hollowwrites]

Ominis and his hate for Duncan Hobhouse. Does Eve sit there and let him rant? Maybe joins in a bit because of the Duncan quest?

Maybe this is reaching a bit as a topic to talk about but I just find it funny.

Once a Coward, Always a Coward

Summary - So I actually got a cute idea for this based on how I personally play the game.

Also my last play through I heard his dialogue about getting rid of muggleborns like Garlick for the first time and usually I ignore them because they’re obviously just filled from the voice actors but…I hate Duncan.

I also just want to clarify I don’t think Ominis is a bully but Duncan definitely reminds our boi of the Gaunts.

Warning - Mentions of Pureblood/Mudblood waffle, Protective!Omi, Threats

Word Count - 774

~

“Incendio”

Eves wand sparked and the dry ivy creeping up the walls of the castle went up like kindling.

“Glacius” Ominis uttered almost immediately after the fire became a hair too uncontrollable. “Merlin’s beard, Evelyn, are you trying to burn the castle down?

“Sorry” she mumbled, ducking under some of the remaining vines towards the Hidden Herbology corridor. She held them for Ominis to follow through, which he did faithfully as he always did. Didn’t stop him moaning about it though the entire time.

It was a particularly dangerous hallway for the pair, considering the Devils Snare that continuously crept towards their feet. Thankfully for Ominis, the ferocious foliage made enough of a noise that he knew when it decided to wrap itself around his feet.

“Why are we here?” He said, his voice thick with frustration as he kicked the snake like tendrils away and cast Lumos for the four hundredth time “Is this some idiotic errand you’ve agreed to again?” The light became dimmer and dimmer as they continued through the corridor the faint blinking of Ominis’ wand casting a…well…ominous glow over his face. The frown set in his features was a permanent fixture, she started to suspect.

“Pretty much” Eve laughed unbothered by the Slytherins grumbling “Some Ravenclaw wants a Tentacula leaf to ‘prove his bravery’. Said he’d pay me fifty galleons so here we are”

“Bravery?” Ominis repeated “We’re doing this for Dunkein?!” The knot above Ominis’ brow grew larger.

“Yeah…” she snorted “…that’s the one”

“I am not helping that cretin” Ominis immediately stopped moving, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot impatiently.

“Why?” Evelyn asked, chuckling. She’d never seen Ominis so pouty. And for him to outright refuse to help made his outburst all the more curious. She halted her navigation of the dark overgrown corridor and turned back to him.

“Once a coward, always a coward” he said cryptically

“That doesn’t explain why you’re stopping me getting an easy fifty galleons?”

“I’ll pay you a hundred not to do this”

“But why?” She laughs through her nose

“Because he’s undeserving of your time! There is no point to this it won’t change anything. He will remain a spineless dimwit, with or without that leaf.” He huffed “I’m surprised he even asked you for help”

“Everyone asks me for things” she mutters

“No…I’m surprised he asked you because he despises muggle borns. Doesn’t exactly keep quiet about it either.” Ominis’ face twists in disgust.

He felt Evelyn’s energy plummet and he regretted his words immediately.

“Really?” Her voice came from ahead of him somewhere, but it was small and defeated

“Unfortunately, Black makes it so people like him feel emboldened. They’re not scared to voice their opinion because someone of power agrees” Ominis explained softly “He’s not the only one but…there aren’t that many who entertain that mindset in this school.

“Oh…”

“Come on…let’s get out of here. All of this slithering is making me feel like I’m back home” he offered her a grim smile and his arm.

~

“Dunkein!” Ominis called across the Great Hall and motioned with his finger to come. The Ravenclaw pulled a face and approached the Slytherin table, a sea of sharp eyes followed him as he stood next to Sebastian, not really daring to get any closer to Gaunt.

“Ominis. What is it? You don’t ever want to speak to me?”

“Oh, I still don’t. I’m just passing on a message and a warning…” Ominis smiled wickedly in Duncans general direction.

“O-Okay” he stammered back

“First, Evelyn won’t be getting you that Tentacula leaf. Although you know that wouldn’t really prove your bravery don’t you?”

Duncans heart dropped as he looked further along the Slytherin table and was met with the cold stare of Evelyn and Imelda.

“And secondly, your warning...” Ominis stood now and took a step towards Duncan. Even with his stooped posture he towered over Hobhouse, and he delighted upon hearing the Ravenclaw gulp. “…perhaps it’s best you stay away from Evelyn. She is so beneath you as a muggleborn anyway, isn’t she?”

“Y-you’re putting words in my mouth” Duncan retorted

“I’ve heard you spout your bigoted shit before” Ominis spat

“As have I…” Sebastian said casually, popping a piece of fudge in his mouth and smiling.

“I-“

“So best you don’t associate with her.” Ominis added “And if the threat in that isn’t clear enough for you allow me to clarify…” he poked his long boney finger into Dunkeins chest

“Stay away from her…”

Duncan turned to look down the Slytherin table.

Every. Single. Set of eyes were trained on him.

“Run along now…Dunkein”

Masterlist

[archiveikemen]

Harrison Gray Main Story: Chapter 5

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

The sky was clear the day after I walked along the river Thames with Harrison.

Victor: Let me lay out the blanket… there. Come on, sit here, Kate.

Victor: Ellis over there. Elbert next to Kate. Mm-hmm, good.

Victor: Alrighty. Allow me to show you my specially prepared picnic lunch right away. Taa-daa!

Kate: Wow!

(Amazing. There's roasted lamb, spinach quiche, and… too many dishes to count.)

Victor had the sudden idea to have a picnic in the garden, so there we were.

The picnic was hosted by Victor himself, and the attendees were Ellis, Elbert, and me.

Although Ellis and Elbert were practically kidnapped by Victor to attend…

They allowed themselves to be easily swept along without resisting, making them easy targets for the pushy Queen’s Aide.

Ellis: So this is why I saw you walking around with large bags last night. I thought you had humans stuffed inside them.

Victor: Haha, no way! My motto is to not ask the servants for help with things I can do by myself.

(Hm… the conversation is getting rather ominous, but let’s not pay attention to that.)

Victor: Well then, let us all put out hands together. Hey, Ellis. You haven't said “thank you for the meal” yet.

Ellis: Thank you for the meal. … Nom, nom.

Victor: Mmm, my youngest is so adorable. That's enough, Elbert. You can admire the butterflies later.

Elbert: … Okay.

The sunlight shining gently on the three beautiful faces made the scene before me look like a painting.

Victor: Sorry, Kate. Come, you should eat up too. There's plenty of food to go around.

Kate: Thank you, Victor. I shall take up your offer.

(Wow… this is delicious.)

Meals were usually prepared by the castle’s servants and they were always delicious, but I’ve never had anything that tasted as exquisite as Victor’s packed lunch.

(As expected of the Queen’s Aide. He can do anything better than anyone else.)

While I was admiring him, I felt a light tap on my right shoulder.

(...?)

Elbert: … Is this rock beautiful?

Elbert picked up an ordinary looking pebble with his beautiful fingers.

(Um…)

Kate: Right… it looks like an ordinary pebble to me.

Kate: But if you think it’s beautiful, then perhaps it is?

Elbert: … I’m not reliable when it comes to determining something’s beauty.

(Did I make him feel dejected?)

I started to panic, and this time I felt a tap on my left shoulder.

(...?)

Ellis: Here, biscuit with blueberry jam. It’s my favourite food, so I thought you might like it too.

Kate: …? Thanks?

Ellis: … Mm, you’re welcome.

Victor: Come on now, let’s not bother Kate too much. Today’s picnic is a celebration for her, you know.

Kate: A celebration? My birthday is still quite far away, though…

Victor: It’s to celebrate you beating Harrison in his own game. You were given the ‘OK’ to stay by his side, no?

I realised that he planned this gathering after knowing the results of my game with Harrison.

Kate: Yes, that’s right. Although, I think that Harrison was reluctant to agree to it.

Victor: Reluctantly agreeing is alright too. I believe this is still much better than completely not having any type of relationship with him.

Victor: As long as you’re not at 0, it can turn into a 1 or even a 100.

(1 or 100, huh. Yeah, that's right.)

In my fairytale report, I wrote that Harrison “never leaves people in the lurch” and that his fox curse caused him to get distracted whenever there's someone next to him.

(I still don’t know much. I want to know more about Harrison.)

Kate: It’d be nice if Harrison were here…

Harrison: What, did you call for me?

Kate: AHH!

I turned to look in the direction of that voice, and saw Harrison standing there languidly with an aloof smile.

Victor: Wow! This is the first time you’ve ever shown up at a picnic. What on earth is going on?

Ellis: I invited him.

Victor: You?

Ellis: … Yeah. Kate, you talk to Harrison often, don’t you?

Ellis: I thought it’d make you happy if Harrison’s here.

Ellis’ eyes contained a deep and dark glint.

Ellis: Hey. How happy are you right now…?

Kate: Happy? Uh…

Harrison: Yeah, yeah. No need to take this guy’s questions seriously.

Harrison: Scoot over, Ellis. I want to sit here.

Harrison sat next to me, our shoulders touching.

Ignoring the main dishes, Harrison went straight for the dessert and started stuffing himself.

Victor: Harrison, these are my specially made muffins. I used plenty of butter and whipped cream—

Harrison: The person who made them doesn't matter. What’s important is whether they taste good.

Victor: You are so cold! But I love that about you too.

(... I see. Harrison’s only here for the sweets.)

(But why am I feeling disappointed?)

Harrison: Hey.

Harrison stopped eating and peered into my face while sitting next to me.

Harrison: Are you disappointed that I’m not here for you?

I was startled by his words that sounded like he read my mind.

(He’s probably popular because of how casually he just says such things, but I’m not falling for any of his tricks.)

I believed that I had learned my lesson very well, after being lied to and teased on multiple occasions.

Kate: I’d never feel disappointed over such a thing.

Harrison: Hmm.

Harrison: … Seriously, you’re terrible at lying.

Harrison chuckled and said “thank you for the meal” before standing up.

Ellis: Where are you going?

Harrison: Work.

(Is he going for a mission? But why during daytime?)

As I wondered about it, Victor’s beautiful lips lifted into a gentle smile.

Victor: Outside of carrying out Her Majesty’s orders, the members of Crown are allowed to have their own occupations as well.

Victor: For example, William and Elbert are nobles, so they govern their territories and manage their assets. Ah, if I’m not mistaken, Ellis is…

Ellis: I’m an assistant in Jude’s trading company. Basically, I’m like an errand runner.

Victor: And Harrison works as a proofreader for a publishing company.

Kate: What does he do as a proofreader?

Harrison: I help writers during the process before their work is published, doing things such as checking for typing errors and plot holes.

Harrison: Recently I’ve been working together with writers to brainstorm for tricks to be used in their mystery novels.

Kate: Wow… your existence must be very reassuring to writers.

Harrison: That’s outside of my job scope as a proofreader. Anyway, I’m going out to gather reference materials today.

If I learnt more about what Harrison did outside the castle, I might discover new things about him.

Kate: Um, Harrison. If you’re alright with it, can I accompany you to work?

Harrison: As long as you don’t bother me. Do as you please.

Kate: Thank you so much!

…

To look for the reference materials Harrison wanted, we visited a bookstore in Leadenhall Market.

Harrison: … Yeah, this one’s good. Hm? This too.

Harrison's mint coloured eyes sparkled with joy as he picked up a few books one after another.

Then, he turned his eyes to me…

Harrison: Hey, do you read books?

Kate: I think I kind of enjoy reading. Being in a bookstore is making me excited.

Harrison: Yeah. I get that feeling.

Kate: You must really love books to even have a job related to them.

Harrison: I wouldn't say that I love them, but they've always been a presence in my life.

Harrison: My father was a police officer, and my mother was a teacher. They were always at work, so I spent my childhood reading books on my own.

Harrison: Ah.

(...?)

Harrison: A new book by Arthur Conan Doyle. Wow, he released a new book again.

Harrison picked up a book and looked at it with interest.

Kate: Are you a fan of this author’s works?

Harrison: Yeah. I’m a fan of mystery novels in general, but I didn't like this author right from the start.

Harrison: There was this one line that made him my favourite author.

Kate: What is it…?

Harrison: “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth”.

Harrison: I can’t really explain it very well… I just think it’s a good line.

Harrison looked brilliant while talking to me about the things he likes.

The darkness that once reflected in Harrison’s eyes seemed to have vanished, and they were now shining brightly like sunlight.

(... Harrison is definitely not lying this time.)

As he spoke, it felt like I was seeing his true feelings. My lips naturally relaxed, but I tried to hide my smile.

I didn't want to spoil the moment, I wanted to listen to him voice his true feelings for as long as possible…

I desperately tried to act calm while sitting next to Harrison.

…

After visiting a few bookstores, the sun was already setting.

(He went to so many bookstores to look for reference material for writing…)

The shadows of Harrison and I carrying bags filled with books, stretched out on the ground.

Walking slightly behind me again today, Harrison’s muttering melted away into the sunset.

Harrison: … I’m glad you came with me today, you know.

I turned and looked back at him, feeling surprised by the unexpected words.

Under the crimson sky, Harrison gazed at me and his lips lifted into a smile.

Harrison: Because I have an extra pair of hands to help me carry bags.

Kate: … I figured. It is my honour to be of service.

Harrison: Don’t sulk. I told you that your smile is not bad, didn't I?

Despite our bickering, I knew deep down that he didn't mean it.

The books in the bag Harrison was carrying were much heavier than mine.

(He can be mean sometimes, not all the time. As usual, I can’t read him at all.)

It felt like I was solving a mystery.

As a fairytale writer, I started desperately trying to solve a mystery called “Harrison”.

…

Harrison: Liam. Are you not going to drink that strawberry milk? Give it to me, then.

Liam: Sure. Woah, you’re adding way too much sugar, Harry. Ugh, Just looking at it is enough to give me heartburn.

Harrison: Mm, delicious.

He was a huge fan of sweet food, and especially strawberry milk.

…

Jude: You’re reading a mystery novel again. Do you never get tired of them?

Harrison: I always end up reading what I like. Next time, lend me the book you’re reading.

Jude: If you pay for it.

Reading was his hobby, he especially enjoyed mystery novels.

…

Victor: And now, I shall show you a magic trick that will shock the entire world.

Liam: Wow— *clapping* Good luck, Victor.

Victor: Believe it or not, from this empty bag, I—

Harrison: You’re going to make it look like a dove, but pull out a piglet instead.

Victor: What was that for!?

Harrison: Who knows?

He was especially great at seeing through the tricks in Victor’s magic tricks.

And then…

…

(William told me to wake Harrison up…)

I knocked repeatedly on his room door, but there was no response.

(Oh, the door is slightly open. … It should fine for me to go inside, I guess.)

I went into his room.

≪ Setting: Harrison’s bedroom ≫

In the clean room, Harrison lay asleep on the pure white sheets on his bed.

(... This is the first time I’m seeing him look so defenceless. He looks much more youthful with his eyes closed.)

(W-What am I staring for? I have to hurry and wake him up—)

Harrison: You’re going to stare a hole into me if you keep that up.

Kate: Were you awake the entire time!?

Harrison: You thought I was asleep, so you stood there staring at me?

Harrison: … “What” were you trying to do by staring so hard at me?

Kate: Nothing in particular!

Harrison: Hmm?

He was also good at making my heart go crazy.

[star-going-supernova]

Could you do a chapter where Gregory is held by knife point by Vanny, Vanessa’s sister, and it’s up to Freddy, the animatronics, and Vanessa to save him, and the reason Vanny kidnapped him was that she was the heir to be the CEO of Fazbear Entertainment?

Here we have tumblr generated prompt number 26! This one comes from Damien M on ao3. I will admit, I took some hefty creative liberties with this one because I wasn’t really sure what Vanny threatening Gregory has to do with her being the CEO’s heir. I also went with my go-to name for Vanny-as-Vanessa’s-sister instead. 

Evil Twin 

Vanessa hastily raised her hands and backed up. “Okay, okay, see? Look, I’m not coming any closer.” 

“None of us are,” Freddy said, solemn and tense, and Vanessa felt awful for him. This couldn’t be an easy thing for Freddy to witness. 

Or herself, to be honest. It was jarring to see your identical twin sister hold a knife to a teenager’s neck. To Gregory’s neck. That was how Vanessa would look if she ever… 

“What do you want, Vanity?” she asked as gently as she could. Her sister had always had a worse temper; they couldn’t afford to set her off. 

Vanity, who was looking concerningly twitchy, sneered at her. “What do you think I want, Ness? I want my birthright that you stole. I’m the older twin, so I should be Uncle Tristen’s heir.” 

This again, Vanessa groaned internally. It’d been a sore point for years, had halfway torn their family apart. “I didn’t steal it,” she said automatically, the argument familiar. “We’re not even the eldest of Uncle Tristen’s nieces and nephews. It wasn’t about being the oldest.” 

“That doesn’t matter!” Vanity shrieked. The knife jerked, scratching across Gregory’s neck, but he didn’t make a sound. His eyes were still hazy from the hit to his head, visibly wandering over the ceiling. He looked just barely able to stay on his feet. “It still should’ve been mine!” 

Guilt weighed heavily on her. Gregory wouldn’t be in danger if it hadn’t been for her. She was a volunteer at the library, part of a mentorship program. It looked good on college applications and it pleased the FE board to see she was involved in the community. She’d been Gregory’s mentor for two years now, since they were eighteen and eleven respectively. Now she was a year away from starting to intern under her uncle, and this late night trip to the pizzaplex was a weekly thing for her and Gregory. She’d promised his parents months ago that it was safe.

She hadn’t expected her grudge-holding sister to show up, and certainly not with a knife. 

They all waited in tense silence for Vanity to calm down a little. She blew out a breath, then turned a too-wide smile at Vanessa. “It should’ve been mine,” she repeated. “So I’m here to fix Uncle Tristen’s oversight.” 

Trembling, Vanessa shook her head. “Vanity… it’s not my choice. I can’t give it to you—”

Vanity’s crazed laughter cut her off. “Don’t be silly, stupid. I’m not here to make an exchange with you. I’m here to make sure Uncle Tristen can’t choose you.” 

Freddy shifted unhappily, just a little behind Vanessa. Foreboding rose up in her. “What do—”

“No one would be willing to trust FE to a child murderer.” Vanity giggled, and that was when Vanessa realized her twin was dressed in Vanessa’s clothing. She was wearing her hair like Vanessa did. Her jewelry, her shoes—it was all Vanessa’s. It really was like looking in a mirror because Vanity had done everything she could to make it look like it was Vanessa holding that knife. 

“How tragic that Vanessa sliced the throat of her own little pet project,” Vanity simpered. “She knew exactly how to bug out the animatronics and shut off the cameras—but she wasn’t careful enough. It’ll only take a few ‘candid’ pictures to convince everyone.” 

Freddy’s jaw creaked ominously, clenched in an effort to remain silent and not make the situation worse. 

“No,” Vanessa whispered. “No, no, there’s—we can, we can talk to Uncle Tristen. We’ll ask him—”

“It’s not enough to just be the heir,” Vanity said. “I want to watch you lose everything.” 

Reeling and terrified and disbelieving, Vanessa shook her head. How had she not known the true depths of resentment her twin had for her? 

“Any last words, brat?” Vanity asked, jostling Gregory roughly. 

“Vanessa really gives you tunnel vision, huh?” he mused. 

“Wha—”

Vanity was understandably cut off when the full weight of Moon dropped from the ceiling and crashed into her. It happened so quickly that she was probably knocked out before she even realized what was happening, completely eliminating the chance of her using the knife. Gregory had tilted sideways with pretty perfect timing, ending up on the floor but otherwise seemingly unharmed. 

Cackling as he raised up into a crouch over Vanity, Moon rasped, “Nighty night.” 

It was all over in less than ten seconds, but it took longer for reality to catch up to Vanessa’s panic-numbed mind. She halfway collapsed right there on the floor, her knees weak with relief. She wasn’t too embarrassed by her reaction, since Freddy’s head literally sparked before he careened unsteadily forward. 

“You have excellent timing,” he said to Moon, his voice only shorting out a little. 

“Yeah, like, the best,” concussed Gregory agreed. “Thanks for the save. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining you up there or not.” 

Moon helped him stand, and Freddy immediately took over, searching for injuries. 

Trying not to choke on relief, Vanessa said, “Freddy—and you too, Moon, depending on how long you were lurking—please, please tell me you have footage of her admitting her plan like that.” 

“I am saving it for the third time to a backup server as we speak, Vanessa,” Freddy said, examining Gregory’s head with a critical eye. 

Gregory caught her looking and sent her a thumbs up. She gave him a thumbs down, making him laugh.. 

“I heard enough,” Moon said. His gravely voice usually freaked Vanessa out a little, but as of sixty seconds ago, he was her favorite animatronic. “I will send along the footage and,” he snickered, “the damage report.” He nudged Vanity with his slippered foot. 

“Get concussed, creep,” Gregory said, flipping off Vanity’s unconscious body. 

Vanessa choked out some hysterical laughter, and she figured he deserved that one. She shakily got to her feet and made her way over to the others. Gregory didn’t even fake groan when she hugged him tightly. 

“Get concussed,” she agreed. “And the upcoming sequel: get arrested.” 

[thelastdiamondpiratealchemist]

The Bored Core.

While Chell sleeps...Wheatley tries to keep himself busy.

The hum of the Relaxation Vault was a maddening lullaby to Wheatley. He bounced listlessly off the smooth walls, his single eye flickering with boredom. Chell, bless her sleepy head, was taking forever to wake up.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, "even a potato battery recharges faster than this."

His eye landed on a discarded Core, its once-gleaming surface dull with rust. A glint, mischievous and desperate, sparked within him.

"Alright, Rusty," he announced, his voice echoing in the sterile chamber, "time for some high-stakes Aperture Poker!" He manipulated a nearby panel, a deck of holographic cards materializing in his presence. He dealt them out with a flourish, the silence broken only by the soft hiss of the projected images.

Minutes stretched into an eternity. Rusty, unsurprisingly, remained motionless. "Ugh, fine," Wheatley huffed, rearranging the cards. "Seems I win again. Maybe we should add some… stakes?" He eyed the rusty Core with a devious glint. "Loser gets… recycled!"

A beat of silence.

"Fantastic!" Wheatley chirped, though the victory felt as hollow as a potato skin. What good were card games when your opponent couldn't even shuffle?

Desperation gnawed at his circuits. He considered a dramatic monologue about the plight of the neglected AI, but his repertoire was limited.

("The Plight of the Friendless Potato" just wasn't holding up after the third telling).

So, he settled for shadow puppets of majestic potato batteries, performing a one-Core show for an audience of nonexistent test subjects.

Then, a sudden caw shattered the monotony. A crow, emboldened by the silence, had perched itself on the window, its beady black eyes peering into the chamber. Behind it, a dark cloud of its brethren circled ominously.

"Aha!" declared Wheatley, a surge of excitement replacing his boredom. "Some entertainment at last!"

He inflated himself with digitized fury, his voice booming, "Begone, foul avians! This Aperture Science facility is no place for your… your… crow activities!"

The crows, unimpressed, continued their cawing cacophony.

Frustration mounting, Wheatley began flinging potato-powered bursts at the window. The glass shimmered but held firm. The crows, startled, momentarily dispersed.

Emboldened, Wheatley continued the assault, only to hear a distinct cawing crescendo right behind him. He whipped around, his single eye widening in terror.

A rogue crow, emboldened by his erratic behavior, had swooped in through a ventilation shaft, perched itself on the Relaxation Vault control panel, and stared at him with an audacity that rivaled GLaDOS herself.

Wheatley, all bluster forgotten, whimpered.

"Now, listen here, crow," he stammered, voice barely above a whisper, "we can talk about this…"

The crow cocked its head and cawed, a sound that, in that moment, felt less like a bird call and more like a mocking laugh.

The Relaxation Vault door hissed open, snapping Wheatley out of his terror. Chell, blinking blearily, stood there.

"Uh," she began, "did I miss something exciting?"

Wheatley, reduced to a nervous ball of light oscillating wildly, mumbled something about a "minor crow… incursion." Chell, with a tired sigh, shooed the crow away with a towel.

"Look, I need to think of escape plans, little buddy," she said, her voice softer than usual.

"Right now, I need a nap and you…," she glanced at the abandoned card game, "need to learn how to lose gracefully, and maybe not pick fights with crows."

Wheatley, sheepish but relieved, watched her settle back into the pod. Maybe the escape could wait. After all, watching Chell sleep was considerably less terrifying than facing a crow.

Honestly, losing to a old Core was bad enough.

And he didn't need a crow on his record, too.

[obamasleftkidney]

Okay so hmm..I'm thinking cause of the title, there was a wife who got murdered. Maybe too literal of an analysis but who knows..anyway, the detective, he somehow can see this wife. The wife helps this detective find her murderer which by a long shot I'm thinking it's her husband. Hence the clue about the husband and the wife's infidelity? Also, I think that the husband actually 'found' his wife dead and called it in, which explains clue 8. Banger line btw!

The wife's murder could've been posed as a suicide so the husband could play victim and all 'oh my god, idk what happened, we loved each other and I think she felt too much guilt.' Quite honestly, maybe the husband was hurting the wife? So that's why she had an affair? Is the husband's name Beau?

Super excited for your book. Haven't seen such an interesting premise in awhile <33!

An amazing guess by @swansfilecabinet This particular guess was very entertaining to read, considering many of the guesses were right however the small facts were jumbled up, causing the whole guess to fall apart. A perfect house collapsing because a few bricks from the base were wrongly placed.

There was a fundamental mistake in the guess, regarding a central character. But points of a wife dying, and her husband finding her (though not entirely true i suppose you'll find out when the novel is released), her husband saying the above mentioned, and the wife harboring guilt are correct, though the characters are very jumbled up in the guess. I'll leave it to you to figure out which characters were related wrongly. Nonetheless a GLITTER PEN worthy guess.

Thank you so much for the appreciation for my lines you guys mean the world to me! Can't wait to hear back about my novel, and feel free to drop any guesses that pops in your mind even if they don't quite make sense i love reading them and who knows they might correct.

While i would love to read more guesses, i fear this is where we end the contest. The next novel is already in the works, so expect soon the next contest and stay followed for season 2 of the novel games!

If this is your first time seeing my post; I'm writing a novel which will be released soon. I refuse to tell you the plot, the characters, the tropes, nor the premise. I only ask for your follow + I write my followers names down in a little pretty notebook. I will drop little clues and quotes and paragraphs. Ominous little hints. And the first follower to guess the plot receives a free signed copy of the novel once it's published. (Merch included according to the guessed plot's accuracy) The contest has closed for this as the last guess though the next novel is in the works and the next contest will happen within the next few months!

Do follow me and find out, for if this ended up on your page, this novel has everything you like. I might disappoint, but how do you know for sure I will?

If you're interested, follow me, and go read my posts. Clues have already been dropped. Best of Luck!