#💜 AMETHYST EYES

[volosdarling]

GET CLIMBED IDIOT !!

[ponderosapineneedles]

I just need everyone to know that my gf has the PRETTIEST eyes, they're hazel and around the outside ethereal warm and brown and towards the pupil they're flecked with green and gold

[arcielee]

At last, when all of the world is asleep

Summary: A Dornish princess is the siren call to break the vows of the Kingsguard. Paring: Ser Erryk Cargyll x Dornish!Reader Word Count: 2015 Warnings: AFAB reader, plotting sexual situations, alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, finger licking good. Author’s Note: Thank you to my beloved beta reader @sylasthegrim 💜 I appreciate you and your edits, always. Banner by @saradika Title comes from Hozier's lyrics De Selby Part 1 (are we surprised by this?) and the plot comes from this ask: "I want a beautiful princess to corrupt and completely ruin him and make him break his oath." Enjoy! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @snowprincesa1

The shudder was gratifying, trilling your spine with how his beard tickled the column of your neck, his lips both soft and warm, and the welcomed contrast of his teeth to taste. Your fingers grabbed to pull him closer to the cradle of your hips, burying your face in the nap of his neck and your mouth suckling on his pulsepoint with enough pressure to bruise; you felt him shiver, his voice strangled, husky, when he called out your name. 

To that, you pulled back, abrupt, catching his gaze and your hand coming up to wag a finger. “Good ser,” you tsked, your lips curling upwards, “do not forget who I am.” 

His eyes were glassy, the blue-gray storm that was slowly being swallowed by black. “Forgive me, princess,” he was quick to correct, watching for your response. 

You gave another smirk, your arms reaching to wrap around his neck to pull him back into your embrace, his welcomed musk of blade oil against the perspiration of his skin. “Gentle ser,” you almost purred before capturing his mouth again. 

He was not Valyrian, not the dragon you sought, but the knight was handsome still. And besides, you were sorely out of practice after the imposed propriety of Northern Westerosi customs and the role of a grieving widow. 

When your father had first mentioned the prospect of marrying into the Velaryon House, the Valyrian blood called to you, a curiosity if your babes would be born with silver heads or the crystalline hues of amethysts eyes, and you were quick to accept the proposal. You packed away your dresses and left Sunspear, boarding the ship to travel the Narrow Sea and bring you to your betrothed. 

The marriage had been disappointingly short-lived; your husband was everything you had imagined, handsome, tall, his silver hair knotted back and his clever purple eyes bright, watching you every movement with care, with desire. The consummation had a passion that carried over until dawn, but only after he was gone did your cycle follow to show it did not bear fruit.

“Do not fret, princess,” Princess Rhaenys offered comfort, “you will have plenty of try-agains when they return.”

But she had spoken too soon and you received word that his life was claimed in the Stepstones, though the real tragedy that followed came from the widow garb you were now expected to don. The seamstresses were quick to fit you with the heavy, itchy fabric that covered your skin and robbed you of what little sunlight spilled through to the gray island that you were caged in a figurative sense. 

While your family by marriage grieved the life lost, you mourned your freedom, you mourned the sun you had left behind in Dorne, of the air on your skin that would show in your garments that were now packed away. 

Hope came as a raven, sent by the king and queen of the Seven Realms, extending their sympathies and offering the opportunity to leave the gray slab of land in the middle of Blackwater Bay, with an invitation to the capital so that you could serve Princess Helaena as company. You accepted with the same breath as you finished the words out loud, your claimant that your father’s intention wished you to be an envoy for Dorne, when really your sights were set on a Targaryen prince, your Valyrian bloodlust. 

King’s Landing was bright, bustling with life; you were escorted from the docks inside to the Red Keep where you would meet with the royal family, astutely aware how every set of eyes followed your steps; you gave a wistful sigh, certain of the attention if you could be rid of the widow gowns. 

Gratefully, the queen was considerate of the temperature change in comparison to Driftmark, and the seamstress was sent to recede the fabric in your neckline and sleeves. It still was far from the comfort of your own dresses, but considerably better after half a year of bereavement. It was a taste of freedom, and you dared to add subtle touches of make up, nothing exorbitant, just a touch of tinted beeswax to gloss your lips, a smear of kohl to frame your eyes.

Dorne was a nation that always embraced its sexuality, a sharp contrast to the pious King’s Landing that was laden with symbols of the Seven. You were determined to remarry–two Targaryen princes unwed, two possible dragons to claim–but to catch a dragon, you had to lay an enticing trap, but you wondered if you were rusty with the enforced bereavement having you feeling like a maiden once again. 

So your attention turned to the piety of the Kingsguard that shadowed royalty’s every step. There were those whose gazes lingered well outside what would be deemed appropriate, the blatant, heady lust that enveloped the color of their irises and the bold reds that tainted their features–to which you scoffed. 

A challenge was what you craved, and then you spotted him; his copper tones in duo, though the twins could be distinguished by how they held themselves, as well the fact that Ser Arryk served as Prince Aegon’s shadow. 

Your eyes trained to the other, Ser Erryk Cargyll, the flutter of your lashes when he looked in your direction, the demure dip of your face to coyly cover a smile meant for him to see. 

He did not fracture with your attention, but you–Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken–would not be dissuaded. It was a tantalizing game, something you swore to be playing solo until you spotted it; the tension held in his features by the shackles of his oath, a tick in his jaw or the flit of his smoky blue eyes in your proximity. 

You chose a night to drink, indulging in the imported Dornish wines, a singsong request to be escorted to your rooms that the queen was happy to oblige. 

“Ser Erryk, would you please help the princess to her quarters?”

And now you were at the edge of your bed like you were seated on the throne, watching the Kingsguard that was kneeled so prettily between your thighs spread. He is beautiful, you mused, looking over the warm tones that touched his features, clashing with the copper coloring of his hair. 

He looked up at you, now bare from the waist up, his eyes wide, watchful, waiting for your command, your very breath of direction so that he may obey you; he was an incitant sight, from the cobalt ash coloring of his eyes, wet and wanting, to the flush of pink on his kiss-swollen lips. 

“Please,” his voice was thick. 

You could not help your smile, and asked with your slow drawl. “Please, what?”

“Please, princess,” he began again, his head tilted further to show the length of his neck, and how it bobbed when he swallowed. “Allow me to taste you.” 

You indulged him, enjoying the vibration of his groan with his intimate kiss between your thighs made your own skin ripple with gooseflesh, along with the soft tickle of his beard. But he was a man starved, lapping without purpose until your fingers combed through his hair and pulled him back to meet with your smokey gaze.  

Ser Erryk watched rapt as you lifted your hand, holding two fingers up; you could see the lustful pools of black claiming the coloring of his eyes, the bloom of rust of his beard around his mouth, the glisten of your arousal that shone on him. 

You brought your fingers to press to his bottom of his mouth and he obediently wrapped his lips around; you giggled from his eagerness, from the tickle of his tongue on the pads of your fingers. The spittle broke and added to the rust when you pulled back, his eyes following as your pressed between your folds, watching you bring pleasure to yourself, showing him just how you needed to be touched. 

A pitiful whimper spilled from the Kingsguard before you allowed him to feast again, and he returned with vigor, with purpose. Your wanton moans echoed against the cobblestone. “Princess,” he breathed against your wet cunt, “you must stay quiet.” 

This was impossible to do; your time as a widow left you touch starved and your body was trembling, overly sensitive to his every deliberate touch–how he flourished with the bit of direction shown, and now, oh the gods, the pleasure curled something beautiful at the base of your spine, something sparking with familiarity from what felt like a lifetime ago. 

Then you felt the pressure of his fingers, the careful add of one and the another, and they pushed within you, searching until you saw colors dancing in front of your eyes; Ser Erryk was pleased, focused, pulling you towards the precipice and it washed over you; your skin rose, your nipples pebbled, the cry-out from your lips and clenching response as your pleasure rippled over you with a vengeance, with its reclaim. 

You laid there for a moment, the blood rising to your skin, your chest rising and falling with your breaths, a drunk smile on your lips. 

The knight was now fully bare and was careful to move on top of you, the pale alabaster of his skin and its marking from his service was so warm to the touch. His palms were large, calloused and gentle to peel off your chemise over your head, the tickle of his kisses that worshiped every bit of your skin now showed, glowing with the attention from his mouth.  

“Ser Erryk,” you gasped as he shifted between your thighs, “please.”

He obeyed, flushed, fumbling, his hand dipping between to trail your silken folds, to map your entrance and reached to line himself. He showed consideration with the slow motion of his hips, another gasp from your lips as he filled and stretched your velvet walls; Ser Erryk moved as if you were glass and you wrapped your leg around his slender waist, pulling him flush against you, wishing to be shattered beneath him.

It was all the encouragement needed and he rutted against you, his hot mouth biting into the nap of your neck to muffle his guttural groans. Your mewls were lilted with laughter, the crest of pleasure that rolled over with each of his thrusts; your hand dipped between to tip you over the edge once again. 

The knight could not withstand the sinful clench and he pulled back, a desperate clutch to allow the pearly ropes of his spend against your stomach, his staggered breath as he watched your own fingers coax through your completion. There was a heady look between the two of you before he pushed back to rest on his heels, and you pressed to your elbows, bringing your fingers to your lips and cleaning them, your eyes never leaving his. 

Ser Erryk blushed, pulling away and allowing you to admire his form, the lewd, intrusive thought, the sword in his hand and the sword between, as he moved towards your washbin and returned with a damp cloth; your eyes never left what swayed between his thighs with his each step. He was bashful, handing you the cloth while avoiding your direct gaze as you cleaned yourself, starting to dress himself.

You pushed from the bed, unabashed with your bare skin, sultry steps towards him to assist him with donning his armor plates to his lithe figure beneath his gambeson. When you finished, you could see his hesitation perched on his tongue and cannot help but toy further with the knight. 

“Good ser,” you tone low to match your steps, and your weight shifted to accentuate your every curve, “can I trust you to always escort me to my quarters when needed?” 

His jaw steeled beneath the reds of his beard at your implication, his tick returning as the shackles tightened again. It was a pregnant pause before his eyes met with yours, and you half-expected to see the beautiful blues, but were pleased to see his darkened gaze.

“Whatever you wish of me,” and his low timbre thrilled you. “Princess.”

arcielee's masterlist

[mamayan]

Purple nonnie here again

Darling I hope you are not tired with all these genya requests you just write him so good and oh so sweet… how about riding our sweet baby boi??? He deserves it💜

He does he does he does— Thank you for the patience ♡

♡Reward♡

Genya Shinazugawa x Fem! Fellow Slayer Reader

cw: NSFW • Soft Dom! Reader • Sub! Genya • Established Lovers • PIV • Whining/Begging • Praise/Overstimulation • Riding • Porn without Plot LOL • Fem! Reader

“Did you see that?!”

The unmistakable smile lighting up his features was breath taking. Genya’s dark amethyst gaze locked with yours, glittering under the setting sun and shade of the trees you’d both been training beneath. His scar is more noticeable when he grins like this, victory and accomplishment radiating off his sweaty skin.

“I did!” You nod, because his feat was no easy task, Gyomei’s training regiment nearly suicidal but it didn’t deter the ever passionate slayer Genya from going above and beyond. He’d stripped off his uniform top, only his pants tied around his thin tapered waist as he breathes deeply from his strenuous exercise. Your eyes track a trail of sweat running down his naval, catching in the dark trail of hair which leads even lower only to disappear beneath his pants.

Genya notices your attention isn’t focused on his face anymore, becoming annoyed at your lack of enthusiasm.

“Oi! If ya got time to space off, we can keep trainin’” he huffs, almost petulantly as he pouts. His sparse eyebrows pulling down as his usual frown returns.

You look back up slowly, and his face heats as you level him with a sneaky and seductive smirk. His mind racing with why you’d give him such an expression. Were you aware you were doing it?

“I was just thinking you deserve a reward, don’t you think?” The purr in your voice isn’t missed, as you step forward and he steps back. Genya begins sweating for an entirely new reason, throat bobbing as he swallows and nearly trips on a foot before his skin feels the rough bark of a tree behind him. You’d cornered him like a cat to a mouse, eyes narrowed and smile teasing as he nervously holds his hands up like a criminal caught in the act.

“H-hey—,” he tries, excitement and nervousness commingling till he isn’t sure which he feels as you press tight up against him. “I—,” he licks his lips, the pink muscle wetting the thin pink flesh as he tries to make his brain work. The scent of your perfume is messing with his mind, making him dizzy as he feels your soft body against him.

“You what? Don’t want the reward?” You’re clearly teasing him, but he feels panic and dread rise up in his gut as he quickly shakes his head in denial, his dark mohawk shaking loose and fluffing up. “No! I want it! W-whatever it is.” You nearly coo at his cute reaction, letting your cool hand lay flat against his lower abdomen and trail up until he’s trembling and red faced under your soft touch.

“You did so good Genya.” He’s melting, “You make me so proud, and I’m sure Gyomei feels the same way.” Did you want to make him cry? “I’m honored I get to call you mine.” You don’t tease him when you see his eyes begin to water, your sweet crybaby always becoming defensive when you point it out too early. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.” You’re whispering the last sentence in his ear, lips against the shell and sending tingles straight to his cock as he tenses against you.

He misses the sly smile on your lips.

As you guide him down to a soft patch of grass and strip him, slowly easing your own clothing off but at a much slower rate. Kissing down his damp neck, nipping at the tender skin where his pulse races beneath, and dragging your tongue over it after to taste him.

You look down at his flushed features, red all the way to his chest as he breathes even harder than when he’d been training. His lithe body trembling ever so slightly as he looks up at you with soft watery eyes that beg for more even a shred of attention.

“You’re a mess and I’ve hardly touched you sweet boy, are you excited for your reward?” You chuckle, running your hands freely over his chest and sinking your nails into the scared flesh as he hisses and whines at the light sting. You find the way he doesn’t flinch in battle from near fatal wounds and his terrible pain tolerance beneath you adorably juxtaposed. He doesn’t complain much more than that, lips opening and closing as if he’s not sure if begging will be in his favor or not.

When you play with his belt, acting as if it’s posing quite a problem to untie, is when he breaks.

“Please, I-I really want my reward, m-mistress!” Dew clings to his lashes as he wiggles below you, your thighs caging his hips in as he bucks for any sort of friction you’re willing to allow. His hands stay up by his head where you’d placed them early, an invisible shackle around them, tied by your command for him to “stay”.

He’s rewarded for his cute display as you seat your full weight onto his crotch, his neck becoming exposed as his head falls back and a loud moan escapes, his hips jerking as you roll your hips over his clothed lower body. He’s not even focused on how you’ve untied his belt and have begun pulling his pants down, lifting up only for a second to drag them off his thighs so you can sit again.

When he feels more heat over his cock is when his eyes open, hazy vision focused on you as he gives a shy wobbly smile.

“You’re so precious to me.” You murmur, leaning down to lay atop him as you scoot closer and lock your lips with his. He’s drowning below you, to overcome with emotion to handle so much adoration poured into him, the way your hips rock so gently against him, and how your weight seems to ground him. He wants to touch you, wants to feel you under his palms, but most of all he wants to say it back.

When you break the kiss is when the words spill like a broken dam.

“I love you I love you I love you I love you—ah!” You rock against his harder and break his chant, watching how he shakes and goes limp beautifully.

“I love you too.” And then you’re gripping his cock like you don’t love him. So tight he cries out, muscles tensing and flexing taunt as he struggles not to break your spell of obedience as you strangle his poor cock in your grip.

When you release the pressure he’s coming so hard he sees white, mouth open and tongue nearly hanging out as he struggles to pull air into his lungs as hot spurts of cum shoot from his poor swollen cock. His ruined expression precious as you kiss him softly and whisper how good he is for you directly into his ear.

You let him catch his breath before your stripping naked, his pupils dilating as he sees more and more of your skin revealed. He’s hard before you even finish, seating your self over him once again, even as he tries to sit up in confusion.

“W-what about you?” He looks adorably worried.

“Right now isn’t about me, it’s about you. Lie down.” You encourage, pressing a hand against his chest until he lays back down and stares up at you like he’s seeing a deity. “There’s my good boy, already hard again for me? Look, he’s leaking so much,” he chokes on a moan as you teasingly flick his tip, the clear fluid dribbling from the top a good indicator of how aroused he is.

“Always so good at weeping for me, aren’t you.” He’s embarrassed as you coo at his cock, biting his lip as you slide your finger over the tip and spread his earlier release and precum over the soft bulbous head. “Are you ready for your reward? Do you want me to fuck you sweet boy?” He’s nodding before you even finish, dazed expression so lax and vulnerable you can’t help but kiss him again.

He’s so pliant beneath you, but his twitching cock is hard and begging for your tight heat, as you slide him through your folds and wet him with your slick.

“Please please please please—ngh!” He’s close to another release from just feeling your folds and the heat radiating from you, so when you slide down his shaft, he’s cumming instantly. “Ah fuck, fuck—cumming!” His eyes roll back as his load spurts out into you, body growing tense before relaxing as he tearily looks up at you.

“I-I’m sorry, I came too soon, I didn’t mean—,” his warbled voice a clear indication of his ashamed actions, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Genya.” He flinches at your tone, reddened eyes snapping up to you, “Sweet boy, this is a reward, you get to cum as much as you like. Never apologize for cumming too soon, I like you just as you are.”

He swallows thickly but relaxes, soon becoming hard again as you slowly roll your hips and continue kissing and praising him, his heart beating so quickly he fears he may die like this.

He wouldn’t mind too much.

“M-may I touch you, mistress?” He needs to feel you, wants to feel even closer, wants to climb beneath your skin and belong.

“Go ahead.” You nod, and he’s enthralled by how tight your heat grips him, feeling your textured walls swallow his cock whole and rub every inch as you sink yourself onto him over and over.

His hands are calloused and rough, sliding over your hips and up to your chest, then he’s running them over your arms and around your back where he hugs you tight. You huff a laugh as he drags you to his chest, his face nuzzling into your neck as he breathes you in, clutching you tight as he fears you might just disappear from his grasp.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you soothe, feeling his cock twitch and begin to swell inside you, “I’m right here,” your hands run through the length of his top hair, watching melt and come apart again inside you. The messy fucked out expression he wears only growing more profound as you keep riding him, his begging soon changing for more to please, I can’t take it—

His cock so drained he knows he can cum nothing else, the sloppy collection of fluid soaking his lower abdomen and thighs, his cock and balls, and your lower half. Yet still you ride him, his face twisted in pleasure and pain as he whines as a slow building pressure begins.

“Fuck, please, ah!” He’s delirious as you wipe the sweat from your face and smile, “thank you thank you thank you,” you laugh because he’s not even sure what he’s thanking you for anymore. “M’sorry, forgive me,” tumbling past his swollen parted lips, drool sliding down his chin as he feels another dry orgasm rip through him.

“Such a good boy, don’t you love when your Mistress rewards you~♡?”

He’s incoherently babbling nonsense, unable to formulate any more words as you steal his ability to think.

Dividers by the wonderful @benkeibear

[violettduchess]

A/N: This is my gift for the wonderful @claviscollections as part of the @flash-exchange💜

Clavis x Reader, my prompt was "Affection 101". Here are eight little ways I think Clavis would show his dearest one affection.

WC: exactly 700

You’re standing in front of the floor-length mirror, taking a moment to admire the amethyst necklace Clavis gave you for your first anniversary. It’s breathtaking. It’s delicate. It’s….a pain in the arse to get on. You fumble, brows knitting with ever-growing annoyance as you try to close the clasp at your neck. And then he’s there, gently admonishing you, dear one, for not calling him to help you with such a tricky task. His gaze holds yours in the mirror as he effortlessly closes it, his fingers trailing away from the thin chain to rest on your shoulders. A soft kiss at the base of your neck is his final touch before stepping away.

Yves has really outdone himself. The table is set with so many delicious confections, you hardly know where to look. Clavis is engaged in telling a story, entertaining the others, his words winding through the air like music notes. You carefully select a golden puff pastry filled with rich pink cream and……ahhh you sigh with pure delight as the taste of sweet strawberries hits your tongue. You’re contemplating taking another when Clavis, without missing a beat, reaches for one of the delightful cream puffs and places it on your plate.

You leave your meeting with the king, heading to your office while perusing the long list of books he has asked you to procure for the royal library. When you get to your desk, you stop. Waiting for you is a warm cup of rose tea and a decorative sprig of lavender. Setting down your notebook, you pick up the note that lays beside the tea cup, written in the loopy handwriting you’ve become fluent in: After a meeting with him, my dear wife deserves a treat from her devoted husband.

You’re heading down the staircase, pulling your cloak around your shoulders as you silently review your market shopping list. Clavis turns the corner, in conversation with Cyran. When your eyes meet, he breaks into a sunny smile, his eyes practically glowing at the unexpected encounter. “Just a moment, Cyran, I must greet my wife in the manner she deserves.” And instantly you’re in his arms and he’s kissing you in a way that leaves you utterly breathless. “And as this is also goodbye…” Another kiss as his arm supports your back, his hand tenderly cradles the back of your head. You’re released with a glowing smile before he continues up the stairs, motioning for a beleaguered Cyran to hurry up and follow him. 

The meeting is running oh so long as the visiting nobles make sure to use their audience with the king to the fullest. Your hand aches from writing, trying to capture all the essentials of what is said. When it’s finally over, Clavis instantly reaches for you, taking your hand in his and gently but firmly begins massaging your palm, the sore spaces between your fingers, his expert touch trailing down to your wrist. The pain ebbs away under his care and he smiles at your sigh of relief. 

You step out of the steaming rose-scented bath and into the oversized, fluffy towel Clavis is holding for you. He wraps it lovingly around your body and pulls you close, kissing the tip of your nose. “Mine,” he murmurs with a grin. “All mine.”

You stare down at the plate of food provided by your hosts. It’s fish. The kind you really, really can’t stomach eating. Politeness has you taking a small bite, forcing it down. A shudder rolls through you from your protesting stomach. And then in one fluid movement, your plate is now in front of Clavis and his plate, minus the fish but with all the salad, is now yours. 

The sun takes a bow, leaving the stage to evening. A long day has your head falling into your soft pillow, heavy with exhaustion. A moment later, you’re being pulled back against Clavis as he curls himself around you. His arm protectively encircles you, his lips press a kiss to the back of your neck. “Good night, beautiful wife of mine. May you sleep well and dream of me.” You smile softly because you always do.

Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

Mean Kiss

Characters: Jude Jazza x reader/mc

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff (if you squint)

Rating: pg13 (?)

Length: ~400 words

Warnings: mentions of violence (not active), mentions of blood/injury, jude being jude, established relationship (and bickering), brief name-calling from both sides (re: bickering) + the usual ikevil crimes (as per queen's orders)

💜 Full credit goes to @natimiles for the images! 💜

After returning to our side of palace, Jude rambles on about how I could've gotten killed, about how I'd carelessly been kidnapped, and all the dangers I'd put myself in this past mission. You'd think we were married, the way he's scolding me.

As he comes closer, all up in my face, cigarette dangling on his lips, I grin smugly, further irritating him.

"The hell ya makin' that face for, princess?" Jude sneers.

"You talk too much," I retort.

"Oughta have yer ass pay me back for all 'a this. Tch, so annoying," he groans, running a hand through his hair as he takes another drag, exhaling as he tries to calm himself down.

"Hey Jude?" I start.

"What?" He asks, an edge to his voice as he comes closer again, amethyst eyes inspecting my body for any further damage. "Speak up, I can't hear you," he teases, done with his ogling.

"Would you just shut the fuck up-"

"Listen here you little-"

"-and kiss me already?"

"Hah?" Jude's eyes widen, cigarette dangling from his lips. His eyes then narrow, looking at me smugly. "Always knew you were a little harlot."

"Only for you, Jude." I grin, legs dangling off the corner of the infirmary table, hands slowly letting go of their grip on it. "Now are you gonna kiss me or not?"

"Why should I?" Jude retorts, but still moves in closer anyway.

"You gonna make me actually have to pay you or something? So stingy."

"Princess," he warns.

"Jude."

"Masochist."

"Sadist."

Jude laughs, leaning in with an expression so minutely different, you'd have to squint to see the way it softens when he looks at me. But I can tell, I can always tell.

"Damn right I am. An' don't you forget it."

He pulls me close into a brusing kiss at last, tasting like the cigarette that had just been on his lips, and the dried blood still on mine. Just as bitter as our cursed love will always be, even amid the sweeter moments. But I wouldn't have it any other way, even when the time comes when we're inevitably dragged to hell together.

[anonymous-rendezvous]

He Comforts You - Shu 💜

Shu Yamino x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod I ✨. Beta Read and Edited by Mod S 👿. ⏌

✧ — Comfort & Care Masterlist | 💜 You comfort him

✦ — Contains: Established Relationship, fluff, & comfort

✧ — Word count: 515 | Ao3

Snippets of time showing how you and your partner care for each other.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

From the second you’d woken up, it had become pretty obvious that it was going to be a low-energy day. Thankfully, no plans had been made for today and you could try to rest as much as possible. How this had all led you to stand in your kitchen looking down at the counter, you had no clue. However, trying to remember why the hell you’d come in here… your mind had totally blanked, thoughts clouded with static. Giving up on trying to remember, you decided to make your way back to the bedroom.

However, as you get closer to the bedroom, you can hear your boyfriend talking. Now standing outside of it, you try to recall if he had a stream to do today, but come up blank. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you push the door open and peek inside.

Almost immediately, Shu catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. “Oh hey, babe.” Turning his head towards you, he smiles and gestures for you to enter the room. “Not streaming, if you’re worried about that. We’re just playing for fun.” Amethyst eyes flicker back to the screen and a bashful giggle falls from his lips. “They all say hi.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips and you give a small wave before realizing they can’t see you. This causes Shu to laugh harder as you immediately hide your face in your hands. As the sorcerer explains what happened, you shuffle closer to him. Once you reach his side, you give his hoodie a light tug. His eyes meet yours and it’s then that he seems to realize what’s happening. With quick movements, he excuses himself for a second before muting his mic and giving you his full attention. “Blue day?” He asks, tone gentle. When you nod, he continues, “What can I do to help?”

“Can I–” you hesitate, worried that this might be too inconvenient for him, your gaze falling to the floor. A hand wrapping around yours breaks your line of thought as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Um, can I sit in your lap while you play? I think your body heat would really help me right now.”

With zero hesitation, Shu moves his mic out of the way before completely turning his chair around so you have enough space to climb into his lap. And you waste no time doing so. Once you are settled, face buried against his shoulder, he shifts back around to face his computer. He pulls his mic just close enough to pick up his voice and unmutes.

As he continued to play more rounds with his friends, whenever he died or they waited for a new round to start, one of his hands always found its way back to drawing soothing circles along your back or stroking over the back of your head.

Eventually, you feel yourself drift off, and in your last conscious moment, you feel his lips press against the crown of your head. Their softness blessing you with sweet dreams.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

[volosdarling]

GUESS WHOS WATCHING PRINCESS TUTU AGAIN

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Soul

Thank you @sorceresssundries for sending Young and Beautiful as a prompt! It's a beautiful song, I hope you enjoy this. 💜

'Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will.' - Lana Del Rey, Young and Beautiful

Taglist:

@netherese0rb @boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @amorgansgal

His first engagement gift to her was a white gold ring adorned with a pear cut diamond, huge and sparkling, haloed with tiny amethysts. The band twined prettily like strands of Weave, and engraved on the inside in his own hand were the words: ‘I found divinity in you.’ Tav received it via courier, opening the door in her home just off Heapside Strand to see the poor dragonborn woman obscured by armfuls of blooms: blue irises, red roses, massive clouds of peonies and bright purple anemones, even cascades of delicate wisteria.

‘Someone must absolutely adore you!’ the woman gushed, her copper scales gleaming in the morning light. ‘When you’ve taken all these, love, there’s something else for you. There’s a vase here, too- do you want me to help you arrange these?’

‘Oh! That would be wonderful,’ said Tav. ‘Thank you.’ She backed inside for the lady to pass and spied the vase. It was a work of art; a sculptural piece of rose quartz veined with gold. Bringing it carefully inside, she set it by her reading nook, filled it with water, and watched as the courier carefully arranged them. The sight of them brought her such great joy she wanted to cry.

‘And one more thing. I was told to be incredibly careful with this,’ she said, smiling and reaching into her satchel. She withdrew a small box and an ornate letter on quality parchment. ‘Have a wonderful day!’

‘Bye,’ she said to her retreating back, closing the door slowly behind her. With trembling hands, she opened the letter.

My love, I know I proposed in haste. I had to, in truth. I was so terrified it would all be a dream and I’d wake, and you’d be gone. Not that I don’t trust you, of course. It’s more that you are so beyond even my most audacious dreams that I cannot believe you’re real. I hope you like what I chose for you. White gold for your complexion of course, a diamond for the pure beauty of your soul and the endless love I hold for you, and, if you’ll forgive me a little vanity, amethysts for myself. I would say more here but those things are best said in vows. I hope you like the flowers. I’ll tell you why I chose them, but those things are best said running my fingers through your hair, murmured softly into your waiting ear. I wish I could see your face… not long now. Still, being apart from you is torture. Here’s to eternity. Gale.

‘Oh,’ said Tav, blinking back tears and kissing his name on the parchment. ‘Gale, I adore you.’ She reached for the box and gasped at its contents. The most perfect ring, just as he’d described. It twinkled on her finger like a piece of the astral plane. She curled up in her favourite chair and wept tears of joy, wishing she could hold him.

*

His second gift arrived a week later. Tav opened the door to a cheerful dwarven man holding a sturdy basket in his arms. ‘Hello ma’am,’ he said, eyes twinkling in delight. ‘I’ve a gift for you from Mr Gale Dekarios. He gave me express instructions to deliver his gift to you personally. It’s important it’s opened indoors, in a secure area, and away from any fine furnishings. Ahem. He hopes you enjoy your gift. Blessings, ma’am.’ He handed the basket over and off he went with a cheery wave. Frowning in puzzlement, Tav took it inside and set it down in the kitchen, gingerly lifting the lid. She gasped, astonished. Inside, fast asleep, was a tiny, winged kitten, silver and grey. It had a small, jeweled collar and a letter tucked beneath one dainty paw.

My love, Tara has been my stalwart companion for most of my life. She saved it, in fact, more than once. I cherish her utterly, and I want you to have the same unwavering support when I can’t be there for you. I hope that is a rare occurrence, since if it were not, I fear it would drive me mad to be apart from you for long. Still… this is Calliope. Admittedly she’s only a baby, but I want you to have as much bonding with her as possible. She’ll speak in time. May she be a   comfort to you when I cannot be. Forgive my presumption, I put your name down as Dekarios. Selfishly, it brought me such joy to do so that I wept. Be here. Would that time would speed up, just a little, so I could hold you in my arms. Gale.

The kitten stirred in her basket, stretched and mewed softly. Delicately, Tav drew her into her arms. ‘Hello, Calliope,’ she said, kissing her fuzzy little head. ‘I hope you love your dad as much as I do.’ She stroked her soft wings, cooing to her as she showed her the house. Calliope blinked her golden eyes slowly and pushed her head into Tav’s palm, purring. ‘He knows exactly how to make me feel like the most special woman in the world, doesn’t he? Hmm?’ Calliope meowed in agreement, climbing up onto her shoulder and settling around her neck, like she'd always been there.

*

Tav was in Waterdeep, finally. It was the night before the wedding, and she stared at the ceiling in Morena’s spare room, her heart like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest. Calliope had tucked her face into the crook of her neck but did not sleep, sensing her excitement. The wedding dress hung on the back of the door, a confection of seed pearls and silk perfect for the summer heat. Tiny flowers cascaded off the shoulders in a froth of lace, putting her in mind of seafoam. She knew Gale was in his tower feeling exactly the same, and drifted off to sleep with his face in her mind, the first time he told her he loved her all that time ago.

The day dawned bright and cloudless. It was a flurry of activity the moment she woke: Morena had called Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach and Astarion to her home early to help Tav dress and prepare themselves.

‘I hope you’re ready, darling,’ said Astarion, kissing her on the cheek.

‘What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in Gale’s party.’

‘Oh please,’ he purred. ‘You know I love you more.’ He chucked her under the chin and winked. ‘You ought to know, I made that delicious dress for you. It pains me to know it’s just going to end up in pieces on the fl-’

‘Alright Fangs, that’s enough,’ said Karlach, clapping a hand over his mouth. ‘You’re making the bride blush and only one man gets to do that today.’

‘Chk,’ admonished Lae’zel. ‘Both of you are children.’

‘For once we agree on something, Lae’zel. It must be a special day indeed,’ replied Shadowheart. ‘C’mon Tav. Makeup first.’

‘If you get even the faintest smidge of makeup on that dress,’ began Astarion dangerously, ‘I will drain you dry, love. So be careful.’ Shadowheart shot him a quelling look and set to work. When Calliope leapt into Tav’s lap, Astarion came to the rescue. ‘Ah-ah, little one,’ he said, scooping her up. ‘Mummy’s making herself extra beautiful, alright?’ He held the kitten in his arms, looking for all the realms like a doting uncle.

‘I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, angel,’ said Morena when she came to check everything was alright a little later, ‘I think Gale may just die when he sees you.’

Lae’zel and Karlach helped Tav into her dress, Astarion hovering anxiously as they did so. Finally, he slid pearl encrusted slippers onto her feet. ‘I think she’s ready,’ said Karlach, beaming.

Her friends were dressed in assorted colours themselves: Shadowheart in midnight blue, Lae’zel in maroon, Karlach in cyan and Astarion in emerald green. Morena wore deep purple.

‘A couple finishing touches,’ said Morena, fastening a pair of diamond studs in Tav’s ears. ‘I wore these on my own wedding day. And these-’ she handed her a massive bouquet of blue irises. ‘Ready?’

‘I am,’ she said.

The wedding party converged on the tower; Tav was hidden from Gale with the aid of a strong invisibility spell, spirited away while everyone took their places, Astarion taking her by the arm. ‘Are you sure you want me to do this for you?’ he murmured softly.

‘I’m sure,’ she said. ‘You’ve become very special to me.’ He smiled, and she could’ve sworn unshed tears sparkled in his eyes.

‘Alright darling.’ He lifted the invisibility spell and threw open the great oak doors before her. She stared; Gale had never mentioned a ballroom in his tower before. It was festooned with what could only be the work of all the florists in Waterdeep, the same flowers Gale had sent her with her engagement ring. The natural magic of the space swirled around them in colourful motes, sparkling and beautiful. At the far end of the room, Wyll and Minsc were speaking quietly with Gale, Jaheira and Halsin murmuring quietly with Morena, who held Calliope in her lap. Astarion squeezed Tav’s arm as music struck up from nowhere, piano and violin and harp. She recognised this. It was the music Gale had played for her in their vision, all that time ago.

Astarion walked Tav down the aisle, his presence calming and steady. She knew he was proud of her, and she would’ve wanted no-one else to give her away. As she approached, Gale beamed, his eyes wide and soft. He took her hands as Astarion took his place beside Wyll and kissed them, unable to stop himself.

‘Hello,’ he murmured.

‘Hello,’ she whispered back, grinning.

‘Beloved, we are gathered,’ said the wood elf priestess, ‘to witness the joining of two souls in eternal love. They will speak their vows to one another, and ritual will be sealed in the ancient magics of Realmspace.’ She gestured to Gale. ‘Mr Dekarios, if you would.’

He cleared his throat, cheeks going a little pink. ‘Tav. I believe you are one half of my soul. I will protect you until my last breath, and then I’ll walk out of the fugue plane to do so again. You are sacred to me in a way I’ve never experienced before, you helped me see life for all its beauty and wonder and worth. I would die for you if fate willed it, but I swear to you I will live for you instead. I adore you. You’re more to me than anything in all the realms, including magic. If I lost it all tomorrow, I’d be content, because you are utterly irreplacable. I love you. Gods, I love you.’

Tav felt tears sliding down her cheeks, giggled when Gale brushed them away gently with his thumbs. Taking a breath, she responded, ‘Gale. You are the most special man I’ve ever known, magic or not. I’ve never known someone so generous, so open and kind and wonderful. You saved me as well. I was so lonely. So lost. And you took my hand and led me out of the dark into your world of beauty and wonder. Wherever you are is consecrated ground. I will cherish you forever. I love you.’

Dimly aware that everyone around her was weeping into their hands, Tav could only just hear the priestess telling Gale to kiss her; he drew her to him by the waist and kissed her with such tenderness it made her feel faint. Only when they needed to breathe did he pull away, pure adoration on his face. He pressed his forehead to hers as their friends and family cheered, and she felt at home- with her husband- for the first time in her life.

[domxmarvel]

Twisted wonderland-Masterlist

💙=Male 💖=Female 💛=Neutral 🌈=Fluff 💦=Smut 💀=Angst 💜=Mtf 🖤=Ftm

The characters might be a bit ooc,since I still pretty new to this fandom (I’d appreciate any feedback and advice for these characters)

Riddle rosehearts

Personal maid 💖💦

Red hoodie 💛🌈

Interrupted💖💦

More? 💖💦

No rules 💛🌈

Malleus Draconia

Tradition💛🌈

Horns 💛💦

Pretty dragon 💛🌈

Eyes 💖💦

Just as you are 💖💦

Not a secret 💖💦

“Can I have this dance?” 💖💦

What’s mine 💖💦

Seeing stars 💖💦

Masquerade ball 💖🌈

Velvet 💖💦

Everyday 💖💦

Lilia Vanrouge

Not that easily 💖💦

All night long 💖💦

Pillow fort 💛🌈

Delicious 💖💦

Heacannons-Wearing his clothes 💛🌈

In he shadows 💛🌈

Ask 💖🌈

Azul Ashengrotto

Dream 💖🌈

Tired 💛🌈

VIP section 💛💦

Jade Leech

Your eyes only💖💦

Hours💛💦

Midnight swim 💖💦

Relax 💖💦

Floyd Leech

Blue ribbon 💖💦

Feeling better? 💛🌈

Lounge 💙💦

Notes 💖💦

Prove it 💖💦

Sharkey💖🌈

Leona Kingscholar

Saturday morning 💖💦

Sweet dreams 💛💦

“Do you want to?” 💛🌈

Patience is a virtue my pet 💛🌈

Leona Headcanons-S/O being insecure about her chest 💖💦

Sunset ball 2 💖💦🌈

Leona-Jealousy headcanons💛

Perfect 💖🌈

Desire 💖💦

Jack howl

Thorns and all💛🌈

“Good boy” 💖💦

Flower potion💖💦

Just stay 💛🌈

Sports festival 💖

Vil Schoenheit

Welcome back,my queen💛🌈

Mirror mirror 💖💦

Quiet 💖💦

Late night visit 💖💦

Not clueless 💖💦

Lullaby 💛🌈

Your night (Vil x Reader x Rook) 💖💦

Rule breaker 💛🌈

Purple with envy 💖

My mark 💖💦

Amethyst 💖💦

Rook hunt 

Full moon💖💦

Uniform 💛💦

Under the moonlight 💖💦

Stormy 💖🌈

The princess and the hunter 💖

Until next time💛

Surprise me 💙🌈

Fangs 💛💦

Ghost 💖🌈

Idia Shroud

The real prize💛🌈

~Meow~ 💖💦

Blue roses 💙 🌈

Divus Crewel

Just hold me 💖

Favorite 💖

Multi character

Twisted wonderland-Card writing challenge

Twisted wonderland-Card writing challenge-round 2

Twst-Finding out their dating a queen 💖

[plushiecemetery]

i wrote a little thingy to keep in mind certain aspects of Dionysus and youll be my witness:

((UPG will be in italics))

🍇 Who is Dionysus?

Lord Dionysus is best known as the god of wine and festivity, yet that is not the full story. With his status as the god of rebirth, madness, fertility, theater and many more He is a vastly more interesting God than He tends to be seen as. He is a kind yet erratic God, loving and caring for those who worship Him and that which He values, but as the most human God of the Olympus (as He is the son of Zeus and a mortal, Semele), He can be seen as vengeful, even if that is disputable.

being born twice (as when Hera found of Her husbands infidelity, She tricked Semele into making Zeus reveal Himself to her, causing her to die, with Dionysus only surviving due to Zeus stitching Him onto His thigh until Dionysus was born again) He represents duality, being both mortal and deity born, both young and old, from here and there, masculine and feminine, He is the link between us mortals and our Gods, and in my eyes a key piece for understanding hellenic religion, being paradoxical, nonsensical, brute, wise, mad, He is the God of wine, as wine is a great and ecstatic moment but take it too far and youll be lost.

He is very much a hunter, and in a lot of art of Him, He can be seen very prominently fighting the the Titans, with His sacred animals fighting by His side, even more than other more war centric Deities, as he is kind yet brutal when needed, He was and is seen as a protector for those who need Him.

🍇 Domains:

Dionysus is the nature God of rebirth, wine, frenzy, fertility, queerness, theater/drama/tragedy, fluidity of self, madness (divine or not), paradoxes, art, inclusivity, festivity, ecstasy, , prophesies, androgyny, transness, the moon, (volatile) emotions, winemaking, mental health

🍇 Associations:

💜 colours:

purple, moss green, black, gold, burgundy

💜 crystals:

grape agate, amethyst, tiger's eye, moss agate, amber, moon stone, serpentine, smoky quartz, malachite

💜 fauna:

panthers, leopards and tigers, crows, bulls, goats and sheep, snakes, rats, calico or orange cats

💜 flora:

grapevine and grapes, ivy, pine trees, bindweed, calamus, fruits in general, green apples, fennel, thistle

💜 consumables:

grape flavoured fizzy drinks, grapes, wine, spicy soup, fruits, chicken, cinnamon, honey, olive oil,

💜 tarot cards:

hanged man, death, fool, three of cups, moon, two of cups

[mamayan]

HI!! if i could kindly request Genya and some dry humping writings..

Happy Birthday to my sweet boy Genya 💜

cw: NSFW • Thigh Humping • Whining • Hair Pulling • Light Face Slapping • Mouth Spitting • Praise/Degradation • Light bondage • Sub! Genya • Dom! Reader • GN! Reader

“Happy Birthday sweet boy~♡”

He shivers, not because he’s cold but due to the erotic position he’s in now, wrists bound behind his back and exposing his strong chest and shoulders. His black pants remain on, though they’ve dropped low due to his belt having been used as his restraint.

He’s panting like an animal in heat, heart thundering in his ribcage as you sit languidly in a chair before him, smiling while you lean your chin on your palm, elbow resting on your knee with your legs crossed.

His hair sticks to his face a little, sweat dripping down his neck and chest as his veins protrude due to the pressure building in his lower half. His cock hard but pinned by his pants to his leg, leaking and leaving a visible wet spot for your eyes to see.

“Thank you mistress,” he breathes the words like a prayer, eyes shining like uncut amethyst. You’ve been teasing him for almost an hour with gentle touches and soothing words, but he’d requested something else for his birthday present from you.

“I want you to own me,” he had said, looking positively captivating as he nervously replied to your question, lips pursed and cocky attitude dropped in favor of bowing his head in a silent request for pets.

Now here he sat on his knees before you, excited and nervous when you’d begin. The suspense was killing him, the sweet words and brushes of your finger tips driving him wild with need.

And then he feels his head jerk up, your fingers which were once stroking his hair now curled into his soft locks and forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Aw~ does my puppy want to cum?” You tease, his flushed cheeks and open mouth a telling sign of how aroused he is. Unable to nod due to the hold you have on his hair, he’s forced to verbally agree, “Y-yes! Please let me cum, mistress.” He whines when you sit further back in your chair, cocking a brow as he shuffles forward on his knees to close the distance again.

“Okay puppy, you can cum,” you shake his head a little with a grin, the glint in your eyes making his cock jerk in poorly concealed anticipation. He licks his dry lips as you lean close to his face. “Since my puppy wants release, go ahead and hump my thigh.”

His eyes go wide, face burning in humiliation as you lean back once again, relaxing and spreading your legs for him to climb and sit on.

“L-like this…?” He seems confused but you merely nod, letting him make the decision to awkwardly stand with his hands bound and climb onto your lap, strangling your right thigh as his breathing increases. You wear pants similar to his, the friction likely going to hurt a little but he settles nonetheless with a moan as he presses against the soft squish of your leg. The barely there pressure just enough to send jolts of pleasure up his spine.

“F-feels good, mistress,” he pants, hips already working to find a rhythm as he humps your legs cautiously. He moans when you tug his hair again, forcing him to arch his back now as you press your chests close while leaning over him. His flexible spine allowing the odd position while he relies on your hold to keep him balanced.

“M-mistress—,”

“Such a good little slut. Do you like fucking yourself against me puppy?”

“Fuck—yes! Yes I do!” His eyes roll back as he feels a sharp slap to his cheek, cock jumping and his hips driving harder against you, his precum now leaking through your own pants and dampening the fabric. “T-thank you mistress!” He gasps as you land another light blow to his other cheek, yanking his neck even farther back as you lean close enough to kiss him.

And spit in his open mouth.

Genya feels himself cum with your spit on his tongue, body trembling with the force of his orgasm as he babbles senselessly and rides out every drop against you with abandon.

You release his hair as he slumps against you, your previous harsh pressure melting to soft touches again, soothing words as you praise him and kiss his neck.

“You did so good for me puppy, I’m so proud of you.” You coo, his eyes droopy with exhaustion as he relaxes into you completely.

“You can rest a little longer, but in a minute I need you to go get my strap.”

His cock twitches at the word.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[gemsafire]

Two totally different takes on amethyst, both fancy cuts and eye catching in their own right 💜

[prettieplural]

Hi, i just saw your post talking about how endos are not systems inherently because of lack of trauma (NOT ME PLEASE IM NOT ONE OF THEM) lol im just questioning whether or not i am truly plural or if what i have is something different??? Mainly questioning because i think im downplaying my own trauma?? Like i think im possibly a system and then i go "wait but i wasnt THAT traumatized and my sisters seem alright so..."

Like im autistic and i had a shitty step dad for 9 years and im trans????? But is that *enough*??? I can never tell and i feel like im losing my mind and lying to myself. And its not like i can tell "who is who" in my head, i just FEEL FUCKING WEIRD!!!!

Sorry for this big ass rant but i guess im wondering how much trauma is *enough* trauma /gen i just dont know how to use words i guess

hi amethyst here 💜

it's important to remember that "severe childhood trauma" refers to in the eyes of the child - not the surrounding world. that means if it was bad to child you then it was bad enough.

as for what you're describing, it's very similar to what angel (our co-host) has gone through himself. we are also autistic and for months he battled if his trauma was bad enough, he has siblings that turned out fine but all of that doesn't matter because it wasn't fine to him. you need to remember dissociative amnesia, most people forget a large chunk of their trauma due to it - to protect them.

there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with questioning being a system despite not knowing if you have trauma/trauma not "bad enough" the problem lies in proudly proclaiming is you are a system without trauma. you've got absolutely nothing to worry about, best of luck to you 💜

[angelettecloud10]

💜Yandere Azul Ashengrotto Idea💜

Ok After Watching The Little Mermaid (Classic Ver.) I remember Ursula Disguises herself as Vanessa to trick Eric that she saved him from drowning and who sang for him when he woke up after being unconscious

Then Poses to Marry Eric to Prevent Ariel from succeeding the Spell to be Human

Now here's an Idea:

Yandere Azul Ashengrotto x Fem. MC x Prince Rielle (The Little Mermaid/Merman AU)

Prince Rielle Longed to join the Surface World and Bond with the Humans Above the Ocean of Twisted Wonderland

That is until he get's Offered to Attend RSA as a Student along with his Friends (Twst ver. Of the Disney Princess) although His Father (King Triton) doesn't fully agree to this and in Frustration Rielle swims off to the Surface there He Meets MC on a Small Cruise Ship with her Fellow NRC friends having a Spring Break Party (Kinda Like how Eric was Celebrating his Birthday but this is the First Day of Spring and perfect for a Cruise Party)

With the Young Prince now curious of the Female Student he wanted to learn more about her (or as you can say it was Love at First Sight) and what would it be like to be Part of Her World.

Unfortunately Someone on the Other Hand has taken interest in the Female Prefect . . . Azul Ashengrotto . . . he sought to make MC his Promised but Notices Rielle Snooping in that case gave Azul the very key for his plan to achieve

During the Party a Great Storm Emerged and Ruined the Celebration, MC nearly put her Life on the Line to save her Friends that is Until She had to Go back and save her Furry Grey Companion, Grim from being Trapped in the Flames. After Successfully saving Grim, The Boat's Supply of Fireworks was set off with MC still on the Ship exploded leaving the Survivng Students on the Life Boats in Shocked

Rielle feeling the need to do something he had to save her from Drowning

As the Dawn rose yet the sky filled with soft grey clouds, Rielle brought MC back to shore not leaving her side worried that she might not wake up, but faintly he could hear her Breathing and a Sigh of relief escaped from Rielle mouth as he then was enchated by MC's Beauty as she lays Unconscious and he then Sings his new Dream to be Part of Her World

The Group then Later finds MC on Shore, relieved as they can be the First Years Tackled MC in a Tight hug Happy that she was Ok. MC then starts to Say how there was a Boy who Saved her and how He Sang so Beautifully. The Bois thought she was Imagining things or being Delusional or she probably Drank too much Sea Water (Lol)

Except for Azul who knew exactly What MC was Referring to . . . which gave him an Idea for a Boy who always had an eye for a Bargain

To Make this Short, Azul then had Rielle visit the Monstro Lounge to make a Deal with him. Helping Him to Turn into a Human to both to Attend RSA and Meet the Female Prefect only for 3 Days but Can Succeed if He Kisses her through True Love. If she Doesn't Kiss her then He Turns Back to a Merman and be trapped in the Monstro Lounge as a Fish in a Tank Serving the Entertainment as a Decoration (& Azul will have MC all to Himself). Payment would be for Rielle to Give up his Voice and rely on other ideas to communicate with MC and his Friends in RSA

As Rielle enjoys his Time at RSA making New Friends and Meeting MC and visiting The Village to Bond more they both Almost Kissed (Kiss the Girl Scene) but Unfortunately failed after being knocked over from the Leech Twins who followed them to prevent Rielle from Succeeding. Leaving Azul to take matters into his own hands and using Rielle's Voice and a Disguises himself (Like Vanessa but a Male ver. Brown Hair, Purple Amethyst Eyes, and his Seashell Necklace that holds Rielle's voice).

His Name would be Victor 💜

MC Standing outside of Ramshackle late at Night hoping that she wasn't mistaken that a Boy really did save her, considered the Lighter Side of the Whole Experience and Considers her feelings for Rielle and decides to Sleep on it and meet with him in the Morning.

But then Hears a Voice Singing exactly the same as the One who saved her from Drowning she then looks around and sees a Figure standing close to the Lake near Ramshackle. His Hair Softly Flows in the Night Breeze as he slowly Looks back at MC making Eye Contact with his Piercing Amethyst Eyes as he Sings and a Golden Hue Glows Brightly in the Night entrancing MC in a Spell

Soooo There's that & I Hope someone Writes a Story about this Idea & I give full permission to use this Idea as long you Credit me

Thanks For Reading and I hope you Enjoyed!!🐚💜

[volosdarling]

AMETHIO & CERULEDGE CORE