#WASTING IN MY LONELY TOWER

[willowser]

listened to evermore from beauty and the beast i'm SICK

[arcxnumvitae]

Listening to E.vermore (the J.osh G.roban version) and yeah it’s Aur’s song. But it’s also basically how his dad was after his mom died

[vampworks]

Satisfaction

Loki x Vampire! Reader

MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Blood, Vampirism, Smut, language, angst

A/n: the first bit of spice I've written and omg I don't know how to feel about it. Anyway, vampires ima right?

Stalking the halls of the tower, I never felt so lonely until now. The thirst has all but consumed my nights. Sleep had long since been completely off the table as the hunger set in, leaving me with a pair of red eyes and a screaming pit in my core, slowly haunting the same rooms I used to run through with a smile.

Today’s failed mission flashes through my head as I pass the kitchen. Creeping into cabinets and the fridge as I remember the sheer joy ripped away from me as my “meal” escaped. I slammed it shut and heard Steve lecture me on discipline on the jet all over again. It’s like he actually wants me to starve. After all of Bruce’s testing and the grueling rules, my insides seem to rip and tear within me. This was my chance to finally feel even remotely full. All of nothing.

I heard faint snores, hushed voices, and the clink and clang of metal in the lab beneath my feet. One sound rang louder than them all whether it was a blessing and a curse, the soft beat of their hearts. It brought me closer to them most nights. It reminded me that they were all okay.

I found myself silently counting the beats of Bucky's heart on the roof. It was grounding whenever I heard it. His very presence was grounding. He looked at me differently from the rest of the team like he actually understood me. I knew I’d be able to rest with him. The team was still uneasy around me because of my new 'condition' but not him. Im tempted to join him until the sound of a familiar, honeyed voice filled my ears.

"Hello, little bat." He whispered into my ear. "L..Loki," I sighed. He lets out a sly smirk as I shiver. “Out for a late-night snack?" He teased. I can hear his heartbeat slow as he pulls away, but it quickens again when my eyes meet his. “Listen, I won't play games with you tonight. I’m starving and all I can hear in this damn tower is blood rushing through my veins, so please let me just wander around in peace.” I placed my hand on his chest to push him away, but he held it there. His face is void of emotion, but his heart betrays him as it continues to beat rapidly. My eyes trace his sharp features down his face and fall onto his throat. The thought of sucking him dry crossed my mind. Maybe I could play his game this once.

“You’re more like me than you think.” His words brought me out of my trance. “What’s that supposed to mean.” I hissed, and his grip on my hand tightened. “It means, My pet. Neither you nor I will ever be satisfied going on like this.” He cooed. Loki’s other hand traces down my arm, only to rest on my waist. His breath grows heavy and desperate now matching the loud drum of his heart.

I want all of him now. I knew it was the hunger speaking, but I will deal with my own heart’s desires later. I could tell his heart was calling out. Begging for an embrace or at least a source of warmth. He might just be right, satisfaction always seemed just out of reach. A single eternal moment passed before I gained the strength to respond. “What do you suggest we do about that then?” my voice dripping with need as I speak. Loki’s façade of excellence was falling, but the remnants stood fast in his posture and grip on my waist.

Ever the royal gentleman, even in such desperation. He stumbles on his word for only a second before proposing an exchange of warmth. "Genius, is it not?” He stammered. I stifle a laugh “It’s brilliant, Watson.” I tease. His smile was sickeningly sweet, but his dark green eyes begged for something more. I held my breath as I pulled him into me by his collar. "Jump.” He commands. I obey and am pulled into his arms. His heart beats as if it’s a heavy drum threatening to burst through his chest. I waste no time laying kisses upon his lips and down to his throat. The sound that erupts from him is heavenly. “You are mine,” I whisper into his ear. A jolt runs through his body as he takes off into a sprint to his room with me in hand.

In a second, my back falls into his black satin sheets. He quickly crawls on top of me with his left hand, caresses my cheek, and shifts his weight onto his right hand. His knee ever so gently pushed on my inner thigh just to be closer. My own hands wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangle in his long, dark curls. I swear I hear the slightest whimper as my rings tug on a braid within them. Feverish kisses linger as if the next could not come fast enough. His lips, raw with a crimson tint, now begged for me to bite them. My fangs nip at his bottom lip as his left-hand gathers my shirt up my back. The taste isn’t nearly enough, as my senses are clouded by him.

All around me is him. His honeyed voice rings in my ear while his touch burns like fire, despite his skin feeling like ice. My mind fogs as I slip from his grasp and flip him on his back in a single swift motion. I take my seat on his lap, looking into his dark green once more. I find his eyes blown wide, staring back into my red ones as our chests chase our breath in tandem.

“Dammit, every inch of you is breathtaking.” He says in a hoarse tone as his hand takes the purchase of my waist once again. My smile widens and I grind down into him. “God, I say the same for you.” My eyes trail down to his chest as my hands slide up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “Let me be one with you… Please, my love.” He pleads. I can only nod as a whine escapes my throat. “Not quite. Use those pretty words of yours.” He commands, his hand now holding my chin up to meet his gaze. “Fuck...yes, please, I want you.” I pleaded. In a green flash, all the clothes that withhold my warmth from him are gone, leaving only the two of us in a world all our own. “Perfect little dove, all for me.”

Shadows wrapped around my aching body, soothing and teasing anywhere they could reach. They slowly lifted me onto the tip of his length. All that can be heard throughout the room is a string of curses and gasps for air from us both as he sets a ravenous pace beneath me. “Such a beautiful little thing you are, aren’t you.” He rasped. I feel his entire body tremble, and my eyes squeeze as I slam down on him repeatedly. “Good, just like that.” He praises. “Give in to me.” The two of us grew delirious in the thrill of it all as we grew closer to release. "Loki, please” I begin to beg. “Please let me taste you.” My words were barely sensical as my body ached for him. “Oh God Yes, I am yours to devour.” The shadows dissipate as I nuzzle in his chest, and his pace falters as my fangs graze and puncture his skin. I fed from him feverishly as he ruts into me, his grip on my waist is so tight leaving dark red marks in its wake. I moan in pure ecstasy at the taste and feeling.

Time stands still as we reach the very end. A flurry of moans and whimpers ring between us while satisfaction finally sets in. Tears began to fall from my eyes as the hole in my chest filled with warmth. After coming down from the high, Loki begins to unravel the two of us from the sheets. He lays me beside him, only for me to burrow into his chest once again. His arms wrapped around me, and he hummed sweet nothing into my hair.

After a moment, Loki began to lift me into the air. “While I love nothing more than to stay here with you forever, I fear we must shower, my dear.” I only respond with a muffled whine. “My apologies, my sweet. A bath, then? I fear no one is sleeping anymore anyway.”

[lokilaufeysonslove]

𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝!𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝!𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // your parents were never kind and sweet type of people, but in your sixth year things got out of hand. To put a cherry on top, a certain platinum blond haired Slytherin Prince decided to be Sherlock Holmes and found out your secrets, ones nobody is supposed to know.

// Warnings // mentions of violence, both physical and verbal violence, abusive parents, bullying, hate towards reader, ignorance, name calling (princess in a mocking way, shame, disgrace, disappointment, waste of time), reader has a backstory, suicidal thoughts, reader has an attempt of suicide, crying, talk about past.

// Author’s Note // please pay attention to warnings! I don’t write about Draco usually, but I couldn’t get idea out of my mind, so I just went with it. This is enemies to lovers. Also, I have mentioned once that reader is 16, but for the sake of this plot, since every sixth year is 16. This is a part two, please read part one first! / divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @talesfromthecrypts

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 in progress

Few months had passed since the first day of Hogwarts. Things with your family were getting worse each day. You received letters from them on a daily basis, all of them saying how much of a disappointment and waste of time you were. You felt as if you were a piece of trash. Your mother made sure of it.

You became lonely, quite literally. You were studying during the day, and sleeping or just thinking at nights. Sometimes you would even sneak out in the Astronomy Tower late at nights, just to be alone.

Hermione, Harry and Ron became concerned, but you were shrugging them off and keeping your distance. Harry, being the Sherlock Holmes he was, became suspicious and tried everything to get you to say something, but you were mastered in hiding and keeping secrets.

Little did you know that a certain platinum blond haired boy was growing suspicious as well.

One day, you were sitting in the library, pretending to read, but all you could think of, was a letter your mother has sent you earlier that day, which was laying innocently on the table in front of you. Shame, disgrace, disappointment, waste of time. You were sick and tired of those words, you just wanted to get rid of them, but they kept wandering inside your head, never leaving.

You heard footsteps approaching you, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. You looked up to be met with Malfoy, Goyle and Zabini. Again, something was wrong with the Slytherin Prince. He was quiet, it seemed like he wasn’t the one who was leading the latter two.

Goyle walked forward and leaned on the table with his elbows. He looked at the letter and took it in his hands. He opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted by standing up and snatching the letter out of his hands harshly.

“If you’re going to tell me how much of a shame and disgrace I am, don’t waste your time. Believe me, you don’t have to. I have already been told that more than enough times.” You said without thinking and immediately regretted it. Your voice was quiet, but firm. You turned around and walked out of the library.

The three boys looked at each other with the same expression that said ‘what the hell did just happen’. Neither understood what happened. This only caused one of them to grow even more suspicious.

Christmas was approaching. Everyone was happy, happy to spend time with their families, happy to spend time with their loved ones. Everyone except you. You didn’t want to go home, no, not home, your parents’ manor. You wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but you would get into a huge trouble, and getting in trouble with your parents wasn’t very… pleasant.

You were sitting in the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor house table, when Harry approached you, a little hesitantly.

“Hey,” he started softly, “Are you sure you’re fine?”

You were fighting the urge to roll your eyes, “Yes Harry, I am fine, really. Don’t worry.” You gave him the fakest smile ever, and he bought it.

But Malfoy didn’t… he was watching from afar.

The letters your parents sent you every day and night were very shitty. That’s how you ended up in Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory, sobbing your eyeballs out. You were leaning against the sink, looking in the mirror and sobbing uncontrollably while Myrtle told you that everything would be fine.

“No Myrtle, nothing will be fine. Ever.” You said in the middle of sobs.

“Talk to your parents then.” Myrtle said in her dreamy, high-pitched voice.

You laughed bitterly at her statement, your voice coming out loud and harsh, a maniacal sound that would make a person wince. “Talk to my parents? Oh, but they are the very reason why I am sobbing the shit out of myself right now Myrtle. Do you know how they treat me? Can you even imagine the pain they put me through? Let me guess. No! You don’t! You can’t! Has your father ever beat you until you were bleeding?! Has your mother ever used Cruciatus curse on you?! And that’s because of this whole pureblood supremacy shit! Because of the house you are put in! I am tired Myrtle, tired of standing strong for 16 goddamn years! I deserve some break.” You said, rising your voice every time you would swear.

It was crystal clear that Myrtle was shocked, “Talk to your friends, or your headmaster then. That is abuse, it needs to stop.”

“I can’t! If I say a word about this, they will most definitely kill me. I don’t give two shits if I die, no. I just don’t want to be killed by them! And about friends, I do not have any. And do you know why? Because I can’t have any! I don’t want to put any of my friends in danger or be put in danger because of them!” You looked in the mirror, then lowered your head once again and started crying.

After few minutes of brutal silence and your quiet sobs, you looked up and wiped away your tears with the palms of your hands.

“You know what,” you started, looking at Myrtle, “do you know how high the Astronomy Tower is?”

Myrtle looked really confused now, “Why?”

“Oh, just wanted to go up there, gaze at the sky, but I have a terrible fear of highs, you see…”

It was a lie, of course, but Myrtle bought it. After all, parents like yours were good at rising flawless liars.

“It’s high, indeed, but I don’t think you will be scared. Platform is huge.”

You faked a sad smile and thanked her, “Thank you, I’ll see you soon.” You walked out of the bathroom. “Or not.” You mumbled to yourself, thinking nobody heard you. But someone did. This someone being very annoying Draco Lucius Malfoy.

He spied on you the whole time and to make matters even worse, he heard every single word you said. So, obviously, he followed you.

When you reached the Astronomy Tower, you headed straight towards the edge and looked out.

“Oh my god, what am I doing?!” You asked yourself out loud.

You slightly leaned forward, when two strong arms cuffed your wrists and turned you around. A soft gasp escaped from your mouth at this sudden action. However, you were shocked when you saw who did this.

Draco Fucking Malfoy

“What the hell?! Were you actually planning to jump out of there?!” He asked. But what confused you more was the anger latched on his face.

“Why do you care?” You asked in a quiet tone.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you were going to commit suicide!” his voice was firm and stern, but dripping with sarcasm at the same time.

“Yeah, but why do you care?! Not that we’re friends or anything. You have been making my life miserable since the day I stepped my foot in the Great Hall for the first time, and now you care all of a sudden?!” You hissed through gritted teeth, your voice coming out venomous, a bit louder this time. You didn’t know why, but him being angry at you for attempting to end your life, for attempting to end all this pain and leave this hell forever, made you angry too. He was one of the people who made you hate your life, made you hate yourself, and now he was suddenly scolding you for trying to end it all. You didn’t know why, but it made you boil with anger.

What made you even angrier was that he didn’t say anything, he just stood there, looking down at the cold floor of the tower, completely silent. Why do you care?! Your voice echoed in his head, sounding louder and louder every second. Why did he care? You were right. He had been making your life a living hell since the day one, he had been the one to approach you for no reason and call you the most insulting, disgusting, and horrible words ever. He had been the one to make fun of you in front of everyone and make you feel insanely insecure. After all the things he did, why did he care? Maybe it was guilt eating him out, maybe he didn’t ever realize how much you were hurting, how much you were going through, until very now. But for some reason, he felt bad, he felt defeated, and he hated every second of it.

You were tired, exhausted by stress, crying and all the emotions. You were feeling nauseous. You wanted to drop down and pass out for hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries. You didn’t care, you just wanted to disappear, vanish. You were weak, too weak, but you still stood there, watching at young man in front of you, who was staring down at his shoes like a child who broke a vase, waiting for him to look up. Under any other circumstances it would be almost cute, but not now. Not when you were about to end your life, not when the boy in front of you was a boy who played a big part in your decision.

Silence was brutal. None of you saying a word, waiting for the other to speak up. Waiting for the other to say something, anything. You stood there, glaring at him like a mother glares at her son when she grounds him.

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you broke the silence by chuckling. But it was not the funny type of chuckle. No, it was bitter, venomous, painful chuckle. Anyone would hear the pain in your voice, anyone would see the pain in your eyes, pain was the only thing that radiated from you. It always had been.

“That’s what I thought.” You said and sighed deeply, “Listen Malfoy, forget about everything, and I mean everything you heard and witnessed today. And don’t you dare say a word about this to anyone.” You said and walked past him and down the stairs, your shoulder brushing against his.

He still didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do. He knew he couldn’t tell anyone, anyway. This was the pureblood family you were talking about. Rules are different there. Finally, he shook himself out of his trance and walked down the steps, trying to be as quiet as possible, since it was already past curfew and the last thing he wanted was Filch catching him.

Slytherin common room was expectedly empty. He was positive he would fall into a deep sleep the moment his head would hit the pillow, but he couldn’t go to his dorm just yet. He was still thinking about what happened just few minutes ago. As much as he wanted to forget it, he couldn’t. Can you even imagine the pain they put me through? He could never have imagined that you were going through this much. Let me guess. No! You don’t! You can’t! Yes, he couldn’t. Has your father ever beat you until you were bleeding?! And here he thought his father was the most horrible person. Has your mother ever used Cruciatus curse on you?! He could never even think of his mother being that brutal. And that’s because of this whole pureblood supremacy shit! Because of the house you are put in! I am tired, tired of standing strong for 16 goddamn years! I deserve some break. You were right, you really did deserve some break.

He felt horrible, he felt disgusted by your parents, he felt bad for you. Oh, come on Draco! Why do you feel bad?! She probably deserves that.

His brain said all of this rubbish, but his heart seemed to disagree. It screamed loudly, louder than his brain, You pathetic little idiot! How can you say that?! No live being deserves that, not even a cockroach!

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize how he ended up on the emerald green couch in front of a lit fireplace. He dropped his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Taking deep breaths, he began to relax a little. He looked up and stared down at fire, warm and welcoming, yet roaring and dangerous. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. Maybe for few minutes, maybe even hours. But he didn’t care. All he could think of right now were you.

He didn’t know why he had a sudden urge to help you, he didn’t know why he had the sudden urge to just hold you until your sobs would calm down. He had never felt this way. It confused him. He never cared about you, but for some reason, hearing your cries made his heart shatter into many pieces. If it were any other person, he would feel sorry for them, he would pity them, but this was definitely not pity. This was… he didn’t know either. But it felt strange.

Standing up, he took one last deep breath and headed towards his dorm room, where he could finally get his long awaited sleep.

[whimsicalpolitical]

I know everyone is fucking hot in this picture, but let’s focus on ross

18+ mdni

All of the other boys are walking inside the venue and Ross expects you to follow them but you pull him back.

Ever since you saw him tonight wearing what he is wearing, the only one with a black shirt, black pants and his hair perfectly pulled up in a bun, you knew you had to have him a lone. He looks divine and you fear that you need him to know that before they start playing.

Ross looks at you all weird, “you alright?”

“Mhm,” you hum, looking around to watch the last man enter the building.

When you’re sure that you’re alone you push ross against the wall gaining a low grunt from him.

You don’t waste any time to intertwine your lips, moving closer to him moving your body on his.

“Hold on,” he whispers, trying to detach himself but your grip is strong which makes him chuckle, “love, wait.”

You groan and move your head back.

“Boys are expecting me in five minutes,” he says cocking his head, “and you are..?”

“Trying to have a quick make out session with my hot boyfriend?” It comes out as a question hoping that giving him your best puppy eyes will convince him.

He laughs at you, holding you in place by keeping his hands on your hip.

“Here?” He scoffs, “you really don’t own a bit of patience in this body.” He pinches the skin of your hips which is revealed by your top.

“Ross.” You begin, “you’ll go on in half an hour and until I can enjoy you properly it’s going to take the whole night, so please,” you throw your head back, “please give me five minutes of your time.”

“Jesus,” he whispers suddenly switching positions with you, towering over you with your back on the wall, “fine, darling, come here then.”

Ross doesn't hesitate and he doesn’t wait for an answer. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It's sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He's groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can't get close enough, as if he'll only be satisfied once he's swallowed you whole.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest.

“Later,” he mumbles, “you can do whatever you want with me, but later.”

And then he's back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.

“Fuck,” it sounds more frustrating then it should but you can’t help yourself when all you want is Ross and he can’t give himself to you right now.

“I know,” he strokes your cheek soothingly, “can wait a few hours f’me though, right? S’not like you haven’t waited for me before.”

“Yes but, Ross,” you whine his name, gripping the back of his head to make him kiss you again but he swats your hand away.

“Uh-uh, not my hair, love.” His eyes look apologetic, “d’you know how long it took me for fuckin’ getting it right? Don’t want to risk getting it fucked up now.”

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” he smiles at your answer, knowing you’re only as sweet as you are now because you want him to stay. “You’re a nice girl all of the sudden.”

“Fuck off.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, prepping a few kisses to the skin there. Ross laughs, rubbing your back up and down since you’ve stepped forward to fit against his body.

“I’m going to have to piss off in a second, I reckon you should be nice.”

Your groan is muffled by the fabric of his shirt, “don’t remind me.”

“Come on,” he encourages you to look up at him, “baby.”

Ross’ beard tickles your face as you kiss him, lips molding together, his tongue teasing yours.

He bends forward, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck. You whisper his name, as desperate as a prayer.

“Need to see the boys now,” he whispers, kissing kisses softer to your skin now, “let’s go.”

You grab his hand and intertwine your fingers only to bring it up to your lips to give it a gentle kiss.

“Fine.”

Ross laughs, lifting his arm over your head to pull you into him. “I’ll make it up to you later, how’s that sound, hm?”

“Perfect,” you smile, letting him lead the way into the venue.

“Expect me during consumption.”

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Anger Translator

Chapter 3

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin's stubborn pride threatens to derail your entire quest before you even reach the Lonely Mountain. Your frustration leads you to question why you were deceived into joining the company in the first place

Warnings: angst, no use of y/n, Thorin being Thorin

author's note: I'm down with a super nasty cold rn so I'm cranking these chapters out pretty fast this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on the last few chapters.🙏

Word count: 1531

“We have a map we cannot read, Lord Elrond could help us!” Gandalf pleads.

“He’s right,” you agree. “If anyone will know how to read the map it’s Lord Elrond. I know he would be happy to help us.”

Thorin looks between the two of you with disgust.

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the elves looked on and did nothing! And you ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather, betrayed my father?” 

“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past.” Gandalf reminds him, but it only serves to anger Thorin further.

“I did not know that they were yours to keep.”

You roll your eyes in frustration at his stubbornness as Gandalf storms off in a huff.

“Everything all right?” you hear Bilbo ask, but you’ve already turned your attention back to Thorin, who is still sulking in the remnants of the farmhouse.

“I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but like it or not we are not going to make it very far on this quest without a little outside help.”

“I will not jeopardize this quest by letting these items fall into the hands of elves,” he spits.

“Fine,” you place your hands on your hips, “then what exactly is your plan? To journey all the way to the lonely mountain only to realize we still have no idea how to make it inside Erebor? You’ll have wasted our time and put our lives at risk for nothing, Thorin!”

“And what would you have me do?” he snaps. “Fall on my knees before an elven lord? Disgrace my father’s and grandfather’s legacy?”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, feeling the two of you starting to slip into an oh-so-familiar argument.

“You would not be disgracing anyone Thorin. Yes, it was kind of shitty of them to turn their backs on us like that, but can you blame them? Can you honestly tell me that if the roles were reversed,  you would risk the life of a single dwarf to fight a battle that had nothing to do with our kind? If Smaug had attacked Rivendell instead of Erebor would you have offered help?” He remains silent but keeps his fierce gaze locked on you. “And I can assure you there will be no groveling or begging required. Lord Elrond is a friend of mine, he would be happy to help us for nothing in exchange.”

Thorin takes an abrupt step away from you, and you instantly realize that was probably information best kept to yourself for now.

“A friend?!” He scoffs and moves closer to tower over you. You force yourself to stay rooted in place. “I see now where your allegiances truly lie. Tell me was he a patron of yours? Did you entertain your friend with private performances?” 

Your hand reaches up to make contact with his cheek with a sharp slap.

“How dare you! In case you’ve forgotten I am a dwarf as well Thorin.”

“Half dwarf, you mean.”

He knows how deeply those words wound you, but you refuse to let him see how they’ve hit their mark. You turn sharply on your heel and storm away before hot, angry tears can escape the dam behind your eyes. 

You hear Thorin call your name but you ignore him as you allow your feet to carry you through the thick brush, letting yourself become lost in the woods. 

It makes you so angry how easily his words can get to you like that, and he knows it too. Despite the years spent apart, you did grow up together, you’ve known each other your entire lives, and he knows exactly how to get under your skin. 

After all, when the other lords and ladies of Erebor forbid their children to speak to you, and the other dwarves your age called you names and refused to let you play with them, Thorin was the one who would comfort you and wipe your tears away. Anyone who dared to utter the words ‘half breed’ would find themselves with a bloody nose or a broken limb. After a while, the two of you became inseparable. You were such close friends that not a soul in Erebor would dare to cast you so much as an unkind glance or risk the wrath of their young prince. He never cared about your parentage. As far as he was concerned you had just as much a right to call Erebor your home as anyone else. 

Until Erebor belonged to no one. No one but Smaug. Leaving you with no home, no family, only Thorin. 

But not long after that, Thorin was gone too. 

You push deeper into the woods, determined to find a tree for your sword to take out all the pent-up frustration. 

But rather than a tree you find a wizard. 

Gandalf sits on a stump, pipe between his teeth, clearly needing just as much of a break from Thorin as you do. You should find comfort in the fact that your frustration is shared, but instead seeing him only adds fuel to your fire.

“You are on good terms with plenty of elves yourself,” you snap at him. 

The wizard raises a brow in question and takes another deep inhale from the pipe. 

“You could easily gain access to Elven libraries and seek help from Lord Elrond without me, so why force me to come along?”

He lets out a low laugh followed by a small cloud of smoke.

“Well you are quite right about all that my dear, but no matter how begrudgingly you may have joined the company no one is forcing you to be here. And do you really think that’s the only reason I wanted you here? To be an elven emissary?” he laughs and your brows furrow in confusion. “It’s true you will undoubtedly play a large role in helping us gain assistance from the elves, and I do not believe there to be another soul alive who has studied as much dragon-related literature as you have, but none of those are the true reason you are needed in this company.”

The gray wizard makes room on the large stump and motions for you to join him. You continue to let your confusion and annoyance show as you slump onto the spot next to him.

“Thorin Oakenshield will make an excellent king, that much is certain. He has already done tremendous work for your people and that is all without a crown, a throne, or even a kingdom.” 

Despite your differences, you know he is right. Thorin is a great leader, although you would rather be burned alive than admit it aloud to anyone.

“But,” Gandalf continues, “No king is without flaws. And his stubborn pride will be the downfall of us all if it doesn’t change. He needs someone to keep him grounded, level headed. An equal that will tell him the truth even if no one else will. He needs you.” 

You open your mouth but can’t seem to form any words. You simply blink up at the wizard in confusion. 

“The others respect him as their king, and while a few may attempt to reason with him when he isn’t allowing himself to see clearly, they don’t interact with him in the same directness you do. You are not afraid of his anger, you don’t shy away from challenging him, and above all, he values your opinion. He respects you.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief and push yourself out of your seat to fully turn and face him.

“I don’t know what you have in that pipe, but whatever it is you’ve clearly been smoking far too much of it. Thorin does not respect me, he sees me as a burden. He left me to fend for myself when I needed him the most. I am not here to be his anger translator, I only agreed to come along so I could see my homeland restored once again and finally give my parents a proper burial. The second I have accomplished that I am leaving and never looking back. I intend to put as much distance as possible between Thorin and myself as I can for as long as we both shall live.”

Gandalf picks up his pipe again and fixes you with a stare that seems to say he doesn’t quite believe you. “Well then,” he says, rising to his feet. “It seems your mind has been made up.” 

You cross your arms over your chest in confirmation.

“Have you informed Thorin of these plans, if I may ask?”

“Oh yes,” you scoff sarcastically, “because I run all my important decisions by him.”

The old wizard sighs in defeat.

“The sun will be rising soon,” he says, rising from his seat, “and I do believe our companions are about to be eaten by trolls. Perhaps it is best if we intervene.” 

You follow after him with a nod, before the full statement clicks

“Wait! They’re what?!”

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@mrsdurin

[r4yra]

James's Forbidden Desires (NSFW)

Summary: He didn't know why he did it, maybe it was anger, maybe it was curiosity, but, impulsively, James leaned in closer to Barty’s face, his lips grazing the shell of his ear as he whispered soft, teasing words, all the while keeping eye contact with Remus. Barty's breath hitched at the sudden lick at his ear and groaned at the following rough bite at his earlobe. Without wasting a second, Crouch, still unknowing of Remus’ presence, pushed James into the wall, pulling the boy’s ankles close to his ears and pounded away, directly into James’ sweet spot.

Or

James’ two best friends/crushes (more like the loves of his life, you can only like someone for so many years until you have to admit it’s more than just a crush) were dating each other, leaving him lonely and with way too much free time. He had to find his way of coping, and it just so happened that Crouch was in need of coping too.

Ship: James Potter x Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Tags: Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, Angst, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Barty Crouch Jr. & James Potter Friendship, Everyone Needs A Hug, James Potter Needs a Hug, Face-Fucking, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Being Walked In On, Friends With Benefits, Jealous Remus Lupin, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter)

As the soft moonlight filtered through the windows of the astronomy tower, James Potter’s hands wrapped around Barty Crouch Jr. with familiar ease. Barty let out a contented sigh, his head falling back in relaxation.

“Merlin James, you get better at this by the day,” Barty murmured, leaning into the touch.

A smirk made its way to James’ lips. “I have a very thorough instructor.”

At that, Barty let out a breathy chuckle. “That so, huh? I’ll have to send him my thanks… It’s like you have magic in those hands,” Barty murmured, head falling back.

James chuckled softly, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Well, I've been known to work wonders."

Barty's smirk grew wider as he moved more into James's touch. "I'm intrigued. Care to show me a few tricks?"

James leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath on him sending a shiver down Barty's spine.

But clearly, Barty was done with the dirty talk, because as soon as James’ mouth was close enough, he thrust into it, his own mouth opening in a silent moan.

The thrusts were rough and strong, no sweet talking or gentle pets of affection, even Crouch’s kisses were rough, the taste of blood still lingered on his lips. The force of his thrusts didn't allow his brain to make any coherent thought besides how good it felt. Just like James wanted, and needed. Anything to get his mind off of the reason why he’s here in the first place.

“We’re together, James… Me and Pads.” No! Merlin no, get those beautiful emerald eyes out of his mind, looking at him with what he could’ve sworn was pity. Remus deserved to be happy. Sirius deserved to be happy. They were perfect together, like the stars and the moon. You can’t think of one without thinking of the other. They made each other happy. Believe him, James knows this.

He’s seen the looks and smiles they share, so much love and so much longing. There was a time when he could make them smile that way too, but lately, it felt so distant. Part of that was his fault, he didn't stick around them long enough to make them smile.

He feels guilty for distancing himself, but he can't bear the pain when he sees them being passionate with each other. The forehead kisses, the hand holding, the hickeys and the scratch marks that he wished littered his body too, he’d show them off to everyone to see. Show everyone he belonged to them . 

It wasn’t jealousy, he wished it was, at least he’d be able to feel angry about it. He felt longing, to be on the receiving end of the love they shared so openly, to fit right in with them. But in between all of that love, there was no space for James, he knew that for a fact.

Late nights unable to sleep, James spends long hours in the Gryffindor common room, burying himself in books or practicing spells to distract himself from the ache in his heart. He was too scared to go up there and see Sirius and Remus cuddled up in the same bed, looking so peaceful.

Flying through the air, James throws himself into Quidditch practice with reckless abandon, pushing his body to the limit to drown out the voice in his head that tells him he's not good enough for Sirius and Remus. He pretends not to notice their concerned glances from the sidelines, afraid to let them see his vulnerability.

Meals in the Great Hall, sitting at the Gryffindor table, James picks at his food, his appetite diminished by the knot of loneliness in his stomach. He joins in the laughter and chatter of his friends, but his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of Sirius and Remus and the love he can never have.

Walking through the streets of Hogsmeade, James keeps his distance from Sirius and Remus, convinced they're happier without him. He puts on a brave face, but inside, he's crumbling, desperate for a connection that seems just out of reach.

At parties, James dances with Peter, his movements stiff and mechanical as he tries to block out the memory of seeing Sirius and Remus lost in each other's arms. He avoids looking at them, afraid that if he does, they'll see the longing in his eyes.

Writing letters to his parents, James paints a picture of happiness and success, concealing the loneliness and heartache that gnaws at his soul. He avoids mentioning Sirius and Remus, afraid that if he does, the truth will come spilling out.

His friends don't deserve that, but every time he saw the passion and love in their eyes it was just a reminder that he didn't do that, that he wasn't a part of that love, and that it would never be directed at him.

He remembers the night after they told him they were together, how only after having no more tears to cry he went searching for Crouch. Begged him to make him forget them. Wouldn’t be the first time, Crouch and him had hooked up a handful of times before. Sirius would’ve killed him if he found out he was fraternizing with Crouch.

Crouch, by a divine coincidence, was too going through some romantic issues of his own, and fucking the pain away definitely sounded like a plan. Just like right now, James’ brain had been empty, the only thing he could process was the feeling of Crouch’s cock down his throat, and of his own fingers stretching him open, ready to take Crouch.

“Ngh, almost there… off. Off!” Crouch had to pry the brunette off his cock or he would’ve cummed right down his throat. But as good as that sounded, he had other plans for tonight. He pulled James up and switched places with him, slamming him into the wall and attacking his neck with bites. 

Soon enough, James had to hold onto Crouch’s shoulders for dear life, his only support being the arms under his knees. Barty was pounding him like he was being paid to do it. How Crouch looked so skinny but could still bounce James’ body weight like a flesh-light was beyond him.

As the thrusts settled into a rhythm his mind got lost in the pleasure, however, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, his pleasure-filled expression (he hadn’t even realised he was making) faltered, and he turned to see Remus entering the tower, his expression dark and intense.

 James froze, his hands stilling on Barty's shoulders as he registered the presence of his best friend. His heart raced, and a mixture of guilt and anticipation flooded his senses. He couldn't believe Remus had walked in on this intimate moment between him and Barty.

The taller boy’s expression was a mix of shock and… anger. Remus's eyes flickered between James and Barty, his jaw clenched. Remus's eyes narrowed, something simmering beneath the surface, but he said nothing, his gaze locked on James with such intensity that it sent a jolt of electricity down James's spine. He felt exposed under Remus's piercing gaze, the air thick with unspoken tension. Despite the shock of being caught, a part of James couldn't deny the rush of excitement at Remus's unwavering gaze.

James couldn't tear his gaze away from Remus, his mind racing with a mixture of emotions. There was surprise at being caught like this, guilt for betraying the unspoken trust between them, and an undeniable flicker of something else – a longing that James had buried deep within himself over the past 2 months… Why should James feel guilty? What unspoken trust is he even talking about? Remus has Sirius, and Sirius has Remus. And they had no compromise with James, so what was with this reaction? What in the world made Remus think that he had any right to look at James like he’s just caught someone else playing with something that belongs to him? Why should James feel guilty about fucking someone else?!

He didn't know why he did it, maybe it was anger, maybe it was curiosity, but, impulsively, James leaned in closer to Barty’s face, his lips grazing the shell of his ear as he whispered soft, teasing words, all the while keeping eye contact with Remus. Barty's breath hitched at the sudden lick at his ear and groaned at the following rough bite at his earlobe. Without wasting a second, Crouch, still unknowing of Remus’ presence, pushed James into the wall, pulling the boy’s ankles close to his ears and pounded away, directly into James’ sweet spot. 

James’ voice became a chorus of sweet meowls and “Ah, ah, ah”s but he never once took his gaze off of Remus. Kept glaring at him, over Barty’s shoulder, challenging him, a clear expression of ‘What?!’ 

But Remus did nothing, said nothing. In fact, he turned to leave. But not before he caught James’ lips forming the word:

“Coward.”

He froze for a moment, just like James had when he first walked in. James could see the frustration on the other boy’s face. An internal battle, over what he should do, over how he should respond, but James didn’t want to hear it, see it. He was so done with this, all of it. The emotions were too much, so he sought shelter in Crouch’s shoulder, trying to focus back on the pleasure. And if he flinched at the click of the door closing behind Remus, that was his own business.

If you'd like to read it on AO3:

(Still debating if I should continue or not, either way hope you enjoyed it! ^^)

[pit-and-the-pen]

Wilting in My Lonely Tower, Waiting By an Open Door.- I

summary:Eirlys was tired of watching Tamlin waste away. But can she be enough to help him through all the ghosts that still haunt him

Warnings: depression, weight loss mention, tough love about said depression (it’ll get softer I promise), very minimal Feyre bashing (I love her but this takes place during frost and starlight)

WC:1.3k

Divider by the lovely @tsunami-of-tears

I stood outside of the house. Even from outside I could see the lack of life. No servants fluttering about outside, no lights on except for one solitary room. Not his room, or even the study. No, I knew the layout of this house like the back of my hand and knew that one lone candle wouldn’t light the entirety of the sitting room he was occupying.

I steeled myself with a deep breath and walked towards the manor you loved. Towards the friend who so desperately needed someone beside him.

The war had kept me away. Kept me close to my family but the war had come and gone and I survived. Both of us had so it was time for me to be the friend that I should have been so long ago.

The door didn’t so much as creak as I pushed it open. Even in the dark I could see the disastrous state the house was in. Claw marked curtains and vines wrapped across surfaces. I didn’t spare them a second glance as I headed towards that one light in the house.

“I sent all the servants away” a gruff voice calls from across the house. I didn’t stop, moving closer to the sound of the voice.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not a servant then, isn’t Tam.” I shot back. He was close enough for me to see now. And my heart broke at the sight of the male in front of me.

His hair was a mess, clothes equally disheveled. Bags hung under his eyes and the stubble dotting his face let me know how long it had been since he bathed.

“What are you doing here, Eirlys?” A hint of an emotion flickered across his face before it fell back into…nothing. The high lords face a stone mask.

“Because someone had to take care of you. Since you clearly aren’t.”

“Who sent you?” His tone was clipped, annoyed even. But I strode past him and lit the large candle in the kitchen.

“Me, myself and I.” Was all I deigned to answer as I started to look through the cabinets in the kitchen. There wasn’t much to work with but it would do.

“Just go away. Please.” Tamlin was standing in the entryway of the kitchen now. I shot him a glance that had a low growl forming in his chest.

“No.” I simply replied. I grabbed a bowl from the stack and scraped the entire contents of the pan into it. “Now sit down and eat Tamlin.”

“I don’t-“

“Eat.Now.” I barked at him. My tone caused the high lord to pause. He tilted his head to the side slightly, like he was sizing me up and seemed to decide this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. Or maybe he realized just how hungry he was and it made me wonder just how long it had been since he had eaten. He begrudgingly took the bowl

I offered it to him and sat down on the counter. It took him one bite before he was devouring the food. Barely pausing to breathe in between bites.

We didn’t talk as he finished the meal. Just sat in silence, our breathing the only thing

to be heard.

“Why are you here?” He asked again and I turned to face him. Something in my chest broke at seeing him so frail.

“Just because she threw you away like you were nothing, doesn’t mean I forgot about you.” He stiffened at my words. For a second it looked like he was going to fight back but his shoulders slumped forward and he just let his head hang over the counter.

“I should have just died during the war.” He whispered, the sound echoing around the quiet space.

“Now here’s what we’re not going to fucking do. You can feel sad, please don’t think that’s what I’m telling you to not do. But we’re not going into the “should have’s” and “would have’s”, Tamlin. You survived a war plenty didn’t.”

“You don’t think I know that?” He slammed his fist on the table and looked up at me with so much pain in his eyes. “You don’t think I know how many people sacrificed themselves in that war. The war I was on the wrong side for?”

“I know you do. Which is why I’m not going to sit around and let you punish yourself-don’t give me that look, we both know damn well that’s what you’re doing here. So you’re going to eat something else, bathe, maybe shave. And you’re going to live,Tamlin. Because despite whatever the hell you’ve told yourself. You deserve that much. You deserve more than that but you deserve at least that much.”

“I didn’t ask for you to come here.” He spit back.

“I am well aware. But I am also well aware that you need someone right now.”

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“I won’t forgive you for this.”

“I’ll survive the blow I think.” I fought to keep my voice even. “Now am I going to have to bathe you or can you do it yourself?” I shot him a glare.

“Are you trying to tell me I smell?” A light trace of humor broke in his voice.

“Yes. That's exactly what I’m saying now, am I helping or-?”

“I can do it myself” he cut me off quickly. Panic tingeing the edges of his voice. I thawed slightly, holding my hands up to let him know I wasn’t going to fight him on that.

He took a deep sigh before he pulled himself down from the counter.

“You’re so annoying.”

“So I’ve been told” I gave him a dramatic shoo and he shook his head before heading towards his bedroom. I stood and looked around the dimly lit room and shook my head as I wondered what exactly I got myself into

Tamlin emerged from his bedroom about an hour later. Smell like amber and something floral. The thick growth of hair on his face had been shaven clean. He had changed too. Lightweight clothes that showed me just how much weight he had lost. The clothes hanging off of his frame slightly. I try not to purse my lips as I appraised him.

”Up to your standards?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

”No, but it will do for now.” I tried to keep my tone light but that didn’t stop the growl from forming in his chest.

”If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”

”You’ve lost weight. That’s all I meant. and you clearly haven’t been sleeping.” He shook his ear, confirming my words.

“I can’t stop the… It doesn’t matter.” He pushed off the wall he was leaning on, heading back to retreat to his room.

Okay new approach.

“I’m sorry.” I spoke, the words making Tamlin freeze. His back still to me. “I came in swinging. I’m sorry. I’m just…Please Tamlin, I’m worried about you. Everyone is worried for you.”

He shook his head again. “Then why has no one come?” His voice shook slightly.

I sighed, “Because we don’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for.”

”And who is ‘we’?”

I felt my cheeks heat up at his tone.

”Well, um, Lucien and the servants. Your sentinels too.”

”Oh. I’m so glad that my pathetiness has been the source of so much gossip.” He shouted.

”Tamlin..”

”Don’t.” He cut me off, turning once again to head towards his room. “I don’t want you here in the morning.”

’Tamlin, please.”

’You can go tell everyone that I’m fine. Mission accomplished.”

Your throat felt tight as you stood there and watched him slam his door so hard the house shook. Tears welled in your eyes as you watched the man that used to be your best friend shut you out.

Tag list: @sarawritestories @ninthcircleofprythian @daycourtofficial @dawneternal @prythianpages @illyrianbitch @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay @lady-of-tearshed

[the-broken-truth]

A Mad Lion's Love - Yandere Leona Kingscholar [Oneshot]

Broken: This Oneshot is inspired by a Yandere Leona Kingsholar Audio I heard. I literally cannot get it out of my head and I have decided to make this one-shot in hopes of getting it out of my head.

Here is the Video, give it a listen; you just might like it:

'How long have I been here?' That was the thought that crossed Yuu's mind as they lifted their head from their knees as they looked around the dark room from their lonely corner in the unknown cabin they found themselves in; the only light allowed to them was coming from the moon as it shone through the cracks of the board up window which allowed a few slivers of light into the dark cabin. Yuu hated the dark, or rather, they hated being alone in the dark; however, they were going to remain that way until he arrived.

Yuu flinched at the thought of him - both in fear at what he is capable of and in anger for what he has done to them when all they wanted to do was survive in this world until there was a way for them to return to the world they came from. Everything was manageable, Yuu was even enjoying their time in this world but their heart was always set on finding a way to return to which they came; everyone they knew understood their desire to return home and they accepted that choice... Everyone but him.

Yuu flinched when the sound of footsteps echoed outside the cabin door, the sound of a key being inserted and the lock twisted caused them to watch as the door opened and a towering figure walked into the dark cabin before closing the door behind them, making sure to lock it once again. The figure walked over to a stack of firewood neatly placed in the corner of the room, collected a few logs before walking over to the fireplace and threw them in before lighting a match and throwing it over the wood; the fire grew, as did the light and warmth in the cabin. Yuu closed their eyes at the feeling of the warmth filling the once cold cabin, also because they didn't want to see him; however, he seemed to have other plans.

"You didn't eat the food I left you." His voice called out as his green eyes looked over his shoulder at the bowl of meat and bread untouched on the stand beside the bed where Yuu was sitting on.

"I know that food is laced with something and I'm not taking a chance with you again. Not after what happened." Yuu hissed at him before looking up at the man who placed them in this situation; The Prince of the Afterglow Savana - Leona Kingscholar. Leona was always the Brooding Prince type, always unhappy with what he had and always wanting more; however, if there was something he wanted or something he deemed to be his, he was going to get it, regardless of what measures he had to take to get it within his claws. Unfortunately, one of the things Leona wanted to possess was Yuu.

"You need to eat something. This is the 3rd Day you have gone without eating and you'll start to waste away if you don't get something in your body." Leona said as he looked at Yuu, who looked away without saying anything to him. Leona scoffed at him before he turned to look at the fire flickering in the fireplace.

" You have done nothing but refuse to eat, barely drink water, won't talk to me, and just pout in that corner even since I brought you here..." Leona's gloved hands balled themselves into fists before he spoke again - his voice laced with an unknown emotion that Yuu never heard before, "What can I do to make you understand?"

"What?" Yuu asked.

"I'm desperate. I've tried everything I could so that I wouldn't have to result in this. I even tried the potion on you but to no avail; you somehow managed to resist its effects even though it was supposed to be the stronger version of that potion. It should have worked. If only it did, you would have given yourself to me without issue and we wouldn't be in this situation." Leona said as he continued to look in the fire.

Leona talked about a potion called the Everlasting Love Potion that he had stolen from Professor Crewel's Display Case of Prized Potions. Crewel was known to have the hardest-to-find and most powerful potions in existence, and he loved to show off his collection. That's how Leona found out about the Everlasting Love Potion. The potion was believed to have permanent effects, and there was no cure for it. Leona needed it to make Yuu fall in love with him. In the dead of night, he broke into Crewel's classroom and used his skills to open the display case without triggering any alarms. He then swapped the Everlasting Love Potion with a common Love Potion that looked identical and left the room without leaving any evidence that he was ever there.

The next morning, Leona got Yuu's Favorite Drink from the cafe and poured the entire bottle into the drink, making sure to mix it so there was no visible trace of it being there. The Prince located the Herbivore in the hall and gave them the drink, telling them it was an apology for yelling at them a few days ago. Yuu thanked Leona for the drink and finished it right in front of him; the prince waited for the effects of the potion to kick in but they never did. Yuu thanked Leona once again before heading off to class, leaving a stunned, angered, and even more determined prince behind them.

"You really crossed the line with that potion, Leona. Trying to enchant me into loving you was going too far." Yuu growled but this only caused Leona to laugh and run his hand through his hair.

"You're making me cross the line. I'm going crazy without you around and you constantly resist me. Constantly running away from me when you are mine." Leona looked over his shoulder at Yuu before speaking again, "Should I break your legs so you don't run away again? It will be painful...but effective."

Yuu glared at Leona with hatred in their eyes but the prince just smiled at them.

"Don't make that face... You're cute when you smile. Come on, smile for me. Just once." Leona coddled but Yuu just closed their eyes, allowing the tears they had been holding back to flow freely.

"Do you think tears will help you in getting me to change my mind and let you go? You're wrong, Herbivore. You're not going anywhere that I don't want you to go: Not leaving this cabin, not returning to Ramshackle, not returning to NRC, especially not returning to the world you originally came from. You aren't going anywhere until you love me." Leona growled out but Yuu started to sob, angering the Prince more.

"Too noisy. You're being infuriating. Stop it, now." Leona growled out but Yuu couldn't stop, they had been holding it in for so long. Leona scoffed once again and turned to look at the fire.

"It's your own fault you're in this situation right now; if you had just given yourself to me when I told you to none of this would have had to happen. I can't live and breathe without you and you kept leaving me, you kept avoiding me to spend time with other males. I was sick of it, so I took what belonged to me." Leona said, trying to justify his actions.

"You're mad, Leona. You've gone mad!" Yuu yelled through their tears.

"Oh, I'm really mad and this madness is proof of my love for you" Leona finally pulled his gaze away from the flame and turned around, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge before placing a tender gloved hand on Yuu's cheek, making them look at him.

"You understand me, don't you?" He started caressing Yuu's cheek in a circular motion, "I'm not intimidating you. I'm warning you: A Lion mad with love will always get love from its prey. This is our law..." He started leaning into Yuu's face, "And YOU are a part of it."

He moved his head to where his mouth was right by Yuu's ear before growlingly whispering his next words, "Accept it."

"You're a monster, Leona Kingscholar. You've destroyed my life...all for your own selfish desires." Yuu whimpered.

"I'm not a monster - I'm a Lion in Love. There is nothing I won't do, no lengths I won't travel, no line I won't cross to make sure my love stays with me and only me. You were made for me, Yuu. Accept your fate and be happy with me." He placed a tender kiss on Yuu's forehead before leaning back and yawning. "I'm tired of having a long conversation. Come and pet me. I'll sleep here with you tonight." Leona pulled Yuu's legs out before resting his head on their thighs, waiting for them to pet him.

The Lion's Captive hesitated for a while before their hand started caressing Leona's hair and scratching his scalp between his ears; just like he loved it.

[END]

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Spectator of Diamonds.

The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone. But,,, the show, it must go on. He is both the actor and the audience.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Cater settles into his seat. It’s cushy and comforting, the pillows almost cloud-like as he sinks down, becoming one with them.

The theater--empty, dark--is his domain, his castle. And he, the lone king atop of it all.

Click, click, click!

He looks up, finding that the stage lights have flared on. Glaring, hot. Four figures stand there in masks--yet he can see the echoes of himself in their verdant eyes, the orange hair cropping out from their false faces.

They are he, and he is they.

The set rolls in, setting the scene. They are wooden cutouts painted over and mounted in wheels or lowered on pulleys. Students in the wings operate them, hidden from the audience's view.

Here begins another story, a series of illusions to craft a beautiful lie.

"There's so much to do before the unbirthday party!" declares Cater the First, a crown upon his head. He waves an ornate staff over his followers, directing their activities. "Chop, chop! Let's hop to it, everyone! There's not a second to waste."

Cater the Second, in a hat and glasses, ferries a towering cake, as fake as the rest of the production. He knows the sponge is styrofoam and the frosting is plaster and paint. Still, he handles the dessert as though it is made of gold.

Cater the Third wrestles with a horde of plastic lawn flamingos and hedgehog plushies. Cater the Fourth, on a stepladder, stringing up a banner. The Third hurries past the Fourth, his foot catching on a foot of the ladder and nearly tripping him.

Righting himself, the Third hollers, "Hey, stay out of my way! Couldn't you have picked a better spot to do your work?"

To him, the Fourth coolly replies, "Not my fault you weren't watching where you were going."

"What was that?!"

"You heard me."

"Say that again to my face, I dare you!"

"I just did."

"Guys, guys! Relax," warns the Second, placing his cake down on a table. "The last thing we need is drama on an unbirthday."

"He's right," says the First. His brows draw together, not yet a full frown but coming close to it. "Drop it and get back to your tasks."

They scramble to each other, a flock reuniting and tending to their kin.

Cater has witnessed this scene many times over. The chaos, the mini-quarrels. From a safe distance, he watches, wearing the usual stitched smile.

Always a member of the audience, never the actor.

A longing ache fills his chest.

He wonders if now is a good time to clap, to interject. Make his presence known somehow.

Cater moves to speak, but doubt arrests him.

No—they don’t need me. They don’t want me there. They’re fine on their own. You’ll only make things worse.

The whispers start.

“Something’s off.”

“Something’s wrong.”

“Something’s missing.”

Cater surveys his surroundings.

The theater is empty, save for himself. It does not silence the voices coming from all corners, their murmur easily filling the room. It’s as though there is a full house, minus the bodies.

Just as hollow as he is.

“It’s fine!" he calls out to Nobody. "I’m sure the show will get better. They know what they're doing."

"It's incomplete," the whispers insist.

"We need you, Cater."

He gasps, his attention returning to the stage. The Caters are gone, their masks and propr lying abandoned upon it.

That sounds like...

"Trey."

Him, and the others. Their dorm leader and the duo of irksome first years are frozen mid-party prep. Trey strolls past them and to the edge of their pretend world,

He crouches down and grins. "What are you doing down there?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm spectating, silly."

"Spectating? That's an odd thing to do." Trey leans, offering his hand. "Come on. Heartslabyul isn't complete without you."

Cater stares. "But I… I like it here. It’s familiar.”

It’s safe.

Trey cocks his head. “But you also want to be up here, with the rest of us… don’t you?“

“You don’t get it. I—” Cater wavers. “I can’t, even if I want to. I just can’t, okay?”

Under the spotlights, they’ll see me for who I really am.

Trey watches him carefully. His golden eyes soften with understanding. "You're scared."

"Who said I was scared?" Cater attempts at a laugh. It doesn't come out quite right, petering out too quickly. "You're imagining things."

"I don't think so." He shakes his head. "This isn't you, Cater. You haven't been you for a long while now. I wish you'd be more genuine with us. With me."

"I am!"

Cater speaks louder than he means to. His exclamation hushes the others in the audience, silencing dissent.

For one long, horrible moment, he sees the sadness reaching Trey's face. The hope draining. Coldness overtakes Cater, and his mind goes to the worst places: his friend turning away, leaving.

His vision stings. He blinks, and the tears blur the world and the people in it, the stage and its actors.

His house of cards, collapsing.

It's over.

From the disparaging silence, a hushed voice rises.

"It's okay. You can be yourself," Trey says reassuringly. He's warm, like a blanket draped over his body. "Smile when you want to smile. Cry when you want to cry. Share it all with us. We'll embrace it."

A tear breaks free from Cater. The magic words, dispelling the dam holding his feelings back.

"Ah... Geez,” he mutters, wiping at his cheek. “Y-You're making me sentimental...!”

“I’d say that’s a pretty good start,” Trey chuckles. “… Hey, Cater. I think it’s about time. You’ll join us, right?”

“Hah. Of course…!”

That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Cater rises and races to the stage. Slipping his hand in Trey's, he holds tight lets himself be hoisted up.

The ground is firm beneath his feet, the lights drying his tears. His heart drums with exhilaration—it feels so right. Like he belongs.

Up close, he should see the set falling apart. The wooden textures, the peeling paint. But it looks more real than ever, with foliage shifting in the wind and the aroma of roses perfuming the air. The stage, expanding.

Cater walks into the waiting wonderland.

"Found him!" Trey announces to the rest of the cast.

The scene resumes, the characters returning to motion.

"There you are, Cater!" Riddle cries out. "I certainly hope you weren't planning on offloading your responsibilities onto your underclassmen... again."

"Pfft!" Ace fails to contain a mocking laugh, his gaze sliding over to Deuce. "Yeah, cuz what kind of idiot would fall for something like that?"

"Sh-Shut up! You'd have wanted to help out your senpai too if you were there!!"

"No worries. I promise no more tricks this time. I'm... too tired for that."

"Cater?" Riddle takes a proper look at him, then narrows his eyes. "Have you been... crying?"

"Yeah. I think... I'll need a moment, Riddle-kun. Sorry, I'm going through a lot right now.”

It is his truth. The joy, and the levity it grants him, overwhelming.

He's finally among them.

Finally Somebody.

[arcxnumvitae]

@lunarxdaydream said: CRANK IT UPPPPPPPP

Wasting in my lonely tower Waiting by an open door I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in And as the long, long nights begin I'll think of all that might have been Waiting here for evermore

[vin-taege]

Neko

Summary: You introduce Chishiya to a cute cat-collector game despite him insisting that he wouldn't like it.

Genre: fluff, post-borderlands

Pairing: reader x chishiya

Words: 800+

Note: This is totally self-indulgent after the last mega angst fic lmao

"What's the point of that?"

Chishiya stared at your phone, the screen lit up by a bright cartoon background and cats lounging on the toys you've set out.

"They're my friends and I love them," you hummed, eyes fixated on the screen. You tapped on a white cat—Snowball—to take a picture of him.

"It isn't the most..." Chishiya paused, trying to find the word he deemed most appropriate. "... riveting gameplay."

"Well, it's not supposed to be riveting," you replied, exiting the app and shutting your phone off. You took a sip of coffee before continuing, "It's just something that relaxes me."

You expected him to tease you in his usual sarcastic way, but to your surprise, he lifted his chair and scooted it closer to yours. "How does it work again?"

He didn't want to concern himself with such childish things-he thought they were pointless and a waste of time. But the way your eyes lit up each time you opened the app made him want to know more about this. It felt like getting to know you more by association.

"You just leave food out like this," you said, turning your phone back on to demonstrate. "Exit the app then after a few minutes, some cats will come."

You turned the phone towards him to show the current state of your yard. Though he didn't show it, Chishiya was actually a bit impressed. There was a giant cat tower in the middle, surrounded by smaller toys like a dainty glass vase and an opened treasure chest. You pointed to a black cat with white markings, busying itself with a red ball. "This is Gabriel. He gave me a raffle ticket yesterday."

Chishiya gently took your phone, pupils seemingly dilating. You watched him poke around the cats to read their names and descriptions, his poker face unmoving. You chuckled lightly, leaning towards him so you can brush some of the bleach-blond hair back.

"You could get this on your phone, you know," your fingers combed at the loose strands. You gathered them into a tiny ponytail before securing them with a hair tie. "It can help you feel less lonely during long shifts."

He quirked an eyebrow in question.

"You know, since you'll have some kitties waiting for you when you get back."

He smirked, handing you back the phone. "What a silly thought," he murmured against your cheek. With one hand, he turned your face slightly so his lips could meet the softness of your skin.

"You love my silly thoughts," you brought your hands to his shoulders, pulling him closer. Your lips connected with a soft kiss, and you could feel him grinning against you.

"I suppose so," he teased.

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Chishiya munched on some biscuits, content with the silence of his office. He was relieved to have caught a break, especially since it looks like he'll be on call until well past midnight. He had already texted you to sleep without him, but he knew you'd stubbornly stay up for his arrival.

He decided he'd finally had enough of looking through the mountain of reports sitting on his desk. His eyes drifted to a framed picture of you two instead. You were wearing a lilac sundress, a huge smile plastered on your face. Next to you, Chishiya sported a white sweater covering the hem of his beige slacks. A red plaid blanket was sprawled underneath you, weighed down by snacks, a wicker basket, and a chessboard.

He grinned to himself, reminiscing that day. It made him miss you more, made his heart hurt because he couldn't come home earlier. Sighing, he brought his phone out, scrolling until he found an icon of a white cat.

The chirpy background music greeted him, alongside a morbidly obese feline lounging by the food bowl. His eyebrows raised in surprise—his first time encountering this specific cat.

"Well aren't you a greedy one."

He wouldn't be caught dead checking out this game. But god, he just missed you so much and maybe you were right—he did feel just a little bit lonely.

Still, he'd never admit that to anyone, not even to himself. In his mind, he's only playing this game to understand you better. Psychoanalysis—not because he genuinely enjoyed a silly game with silly cats.

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

"Nice," he muttered to himself. It was three in the morning, and you were sleeping soundly next to him. On the other hand, Chishiya was sitting against his pillows, face illuminated by his phone.

Tubbs—the obese cat he definitely did not learn the name of—had finally given him a memento. That fat bastard made him wait a month.

"Chish?" You stirred next to him, eyes squinting at the faint light. Your voice was groggy, mind still hazy from your sleep. "What are you doing up?"

"Nothing, love. Let's go back to sleep." He quickly turned his phone off, getting back under the covers to wrap his arms around you.

"Were you playing Neko Atsume?" you sleepily mumbled into his chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

[vague-shadows]

@azrisweek 2024 | Day 1: Contrasts

My first fic for this fandom! It's entirely my wife's fault (affectionate).

Summary: Azriel meets Death, whom he mistakes for a suriel, and Death unexpectedly acquires (another) lonely child to look after.

---

Death is admittedly intrigued by the sad little boy locked away in a tower filled with so much death - a little boy with wraith blood flowing in his veins no less - and can’t help but feel the courageous little soul is being wasted, trapped here in this festering cruelty and neglect.  It has been quite some time since Death took on an apprentice - should be quite some time before an apprentice will need to take up Death’s mantle and continue the Mother’s work. Still, it’s as good a reason as any to investigate a bit further.  

The boy sleeps restlessly on the thin straw mattress in the center of the room. Two shackles adorn the base of his atrophied wings at the point where they connect to his emaciated shoulders, and two more encircle his pale, thin ankles.  A heavy chain from each shackle ends at an iron ring bolted into the floor.  

The boy wakes with a start when he senses Death’s presence in the room. Apparently, he has ample wraith heritage to have the Sight, since he shrinks back and raises two tiny, horribly scarred hands in a defensive position on either side of his gaunt face. Before Death can decide whether to offer reassurance, the boy is already dropping his hands. 

“Sorry, I thought you were … someone else,” he says. “They don’t usually put other prisoners in with me.”

His small voice sounds painfully hoarse. Death wonders whether disuse or screaming is the cause of the winded rasp.  For the first time in a very long while, Death’s appearance isn’t marred by some form of fear or misery on the part of the one they’re meeting.  Instead of the usual variations of terror,  the boy’s gaze is soft, with a bright curiousness seen almost exclusively in children. 

“Are you a suriel? 

Keep reading on AO3

[kookie-doughs]

Evermore

Dracule Mihawk X Reader

-Your evermore with Mihawk is a story to be told

Chapter 1: I Was The One Who Had It All, I Was The Master Of My Fate

Chapter 2: I Never Needed Anybody In My Life, I Learned The Truth Too Late

Chapter 3: I'll Never Shake Away The Pain, I Close My Eyes But She's Still There

Chapter 4: I Let Her Steal Into My Melancholy Heart, It's More Than I Can Bear

Chapter 5: Now I Know She'll Never Leave Me, Even As She Runs Away

Chapter 6: She Will Still Torment Me, Calm Me, Hurt Me, Move Me, Come What May

Chapter 7: Wasting In My Lonely Tower, Waiting By An Open Door

Chapter 8: I'll Fool Myself She'll Walk Right In, And As The Long, Long Nights Begin

Chapter 9: I'll Think Of All That Might Have Been, Waiting Here For Evermore

I'm in love with writing a story based on songs and i just rewatched beauty and the beast when i heard it I immediately thought omg which character would be perfect for this. I was like listing chacters who was like powerful but lonely. I was like down to Roger, Mihawk, Crocodile and Doffy. I got rid of roger because hes married. Doffy wasn't lonely and Crocodile didn't have a castle <3 hehe i loved this its like not nicely written so dont expect much its just a prompt that came to my mind.

When i heard the song. I had like a concept come to me but like thats all I had. The concept i had was just the start so haha..... i kinda just tried to make this. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

-kookiedoughs

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @nykie-love-anime @khaleesihavilliard @littleleelee

[shiyorin]

Animal instincts

#Just romcom in 40K

#Today's menu: Leman Russ and Lion El'Jonson

#Primarchs x Reader, Reader is Imperial Agent

#Late Christmas gift and early New Year gift

Leman Russ

The endless snows of Fenris stretched as far as the eye could see, blanketing mountains and wilds alike under pristine powder. You found yourself overwhelmed at the awe-inspiring landscape, so different from your world upbringing. 

But greatest curiosity lay with one who called these frigid wastes home - Leman Russ, Primarch of the Space Wolves. You observed him now, surrounded by his warriors yet apart, a lone towering figure contemplating the white void. 

His austere features seemed carved from the very stone and ice encasing this planet, immovable yet holding untold depth and power beneath granite exterior. Thick fur-lined armor and coarse pelt draped his massive frame, like the predators ruling these inhospitable wastes.

But as Russ turned toward some comment, face transforming with gruff laughter at his pack's roughhousing, you saw not an impervious demigod but something familiar. Great shoulders shook in mirth like immense boulders slipping loose, blue eyes alive with warmth despite frigid surroundings. An involuntary thought slipped through, that in this moment, he resembled not conqueror but some canines, mighty and playful. 

Shaking off fanciful musings, you continued observant tasks, keeping distance respectful between yourself and the lords of this domain. But later as briefings commenced, Russ stopped his gigantic form before you, breath curling like frost wolves from a mouth curled in question. 

You blinked up into eyes keen yet gentle, all rational thought scattering like snow on gale winds. Impulse surged before discipline could rein it, and you found hands rising of their own accord to Russ' massive brow, carding gloved fingers through coarse hair as one might a trusted hound. 

Silence descended, thick as the powdery drifts. Russ' features slackened in blank shock, pale eyes blinking owlishly. "Lass..." he rumbled, uncomprehending. 

You started as if slapped, jerking hands back so swiftly your wrist protested. "My lord, I..." Words fled, face aflame to your hairline. What folly had possessed you so?!

Yet to your surprise, Russ laughed, a booming, resonant sound like glaciers calving. "By Fenris's ball, lass, yer got the spirit!" 

His tone held no anger, merely bemusement. But when you swallowed apologies, you glimpsed what may have been wistfulness flickering through feral eyes, gone as swift as the thought that spawned it. Had his invisible tail genuinely twitched to wag? Definitely you are crazy or something.

"Aye, lass. Well, if the fur satisfies yer hands, s'pose I'll oblige." 

To your shock, he leaned nearer once more, an unmistakable invitation dancing in blue eyes. Hypnotized, you carded soft locks obediently, finding they are softer than you think. Russ sighed, almost seeming to lean into your touch. An absurd image flickered of an immense wolf nuzzling against your hand, tail wagging invisible yet content. Smiling softly, you traced strong jaw and was rewarded with a look of such warmth and longing, all of your rational thought dissolved. 

Lion El'Jonson

Your survey of the growing threat in Caliban's wilds brought you regularly to the Lion's tower, poring over maps and missives seeking the root of corruption's spread. This eve found you and him yet at work as dusk deepened, twin flames bending over parchment and discourse. 

A lull arose as analysis hit dead ends once more, frustration mounting. You sighed and stretched tired limbs, risking a sidelong glance at your lord. The Lion remained absorbed, strong brows furrowed, stroking his trim beard absently as strategic mind raced. 

A strange thought struck then, in this dim shuttered space, with dusk masking Caliban's savage beauty, did he not seem every inch a great cat himself? Powerful yet graceful, thinking moves ahead with predatory cunning, alone yet bound to wilder instincts doubtless few witnessed.   

Before rational thought could intervene, curiosity overruled. Stepping softly, your hands found scratching points along Lion's bearded jaw and throat. Beneath your ministries his eyes slid shut, muscles unwinding with a contented sigh. Success! Like any feline such attentions soothed.

Encouraged, your nails lightly raked his scalp, eliciting a startling response, a primal rumbling purr trembled his massive frame. His relaxation vanished in an instant, eyes flying open to stare at your in wild-eyed alarm. 

You stumbled back several paces, own eyes round as moons. Had Lion just...purred? Like some overgrown house tabby? Your mind reeled, seeking logical explanations amongst unfathomable strangeness unfolding. 

Lion's pupils elongated before your gaze, resembling nought cat-like slits in green eyes gone feral-bright. His confusion melted into predatory stillness, fixing you with an eerie stare that raised all hairs standing on end. What strangeness possessed them?

For long moments you and him remained suspended, breathing halted, shock and unnamed sparks passing between hands dropped limp to sides once more. Then all broke at once, your stammered excuses and the Lion retreating to the shadows of his tower, retreating from… what?

That night, your sleep proved fitful, your mind restless with possibilities. Had you gone too far when crossed a line with Lion that afternoon, awakening forces better left slumbering? 

Morning comes, dread coiled cold and heavy in your gut. Open the tower's door with trepidation, you froze at the grisly sight awaiting just beyond threshold. A massive deer carcass lay splayed, crimson pool already attracting swarms of flies. 

Your breath caught in horror, had Lion's frustrations boiled over in vengeance? Was this brutal warning of what further torments awaited should your act overstep once more? Shaking, you backed hurriedly inside, thoughts whirling. 

Meanwhile across Caliban's wilderness, Lion admired graceful flickers weaving between ancient trees, oblivious to turmoil sown. Inhaling your lingering scent lost to the mists. Pride swelled that his token gained your notice, for what better way to proclaim your worth and pique your interest further? 

He would await your next visit, gifting further demonstrations of prowess to stoke your regard. In time, you would see none matched his prowess for providing and protecting what he deemed most worthy.

Extra:

Russ: Pat me, pat me, woof woof!

Lion: If I give a bigger prey, will the agent love me more?

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Click My Heels But I Am Stuck Here - Chapter Three

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Work Summary:

Rolan is battered, beaten and exhausted. After everything he’s been through to get to Baldur’s Gate, he still has no reprieve from violence and prejudice.

But wouldn’t it just be so sweet to fuck his master’s pretty little wife?

AU where Tav is Lorroakan’s wife.

Chapter Summary:

Lorroakan is out of town, and Rolan finally gets to spend some time alone with Tav.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5980

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

warnings for allusions to domestic violence and sexual abuse

---

Rolan was wearing his best robes, his hair neatly combed and tied back in its usual style. He had been incredibly liberal with his use of healing potions, to ensure there were no traces of cuts or bruises on his face. Normally, he would’ve considered this wasteful, but tonight, it was important.

Lorroakan was away on a trip, which meant that Rolan finally had the opportunity to see Cal and Lia again. According to their most recent sending conversation, Lia had befriended some Harpers who were willing to help her and Cal sneak into the city for the evening, and then get them back to the refugee camp safe and sound.

Rolan felt himself on the verge of heart palpitations. It had been two months since he’d last seen either of them in person. Sending spells and scribbled notes delivered by pigeon weren’t the same. And he was seeing them today.

The tower was a breath of fresh air now that Lorroakan wasn’t here. It felt good not to have to tiptoe around. Myshka was taking full advantage of this, sprawling out in the middle of the library. When Rolan walked in, the cat looked up and started purring at once.

Rolan bent down and scratched him under the chin, and the cat responded by jumping up onto his shoulder. Rolan gave a feeble protest – he was going to get fur all over his robes – but gave up when the cat lay himself across his shoulders.

“You’re in a good mood today,” came Tavya’s voice from behind him, and he spun around so fast that he almost lost his balance. She was smiling at him. He took a deep breath to calm himself. She wasn’t Lorroakan.

“I’m seeing my siblings at the Elfsong Tavern tonight,” he said, unable to keep the smile from spreading across his face.

She beamed back at him. She was wearing an oversized jumper and loose-fitting trousers, her hair messily tied back into a ponytail rather than its usual braids, and still, she was exceptionally pretty.

“I’m glad to hear that. You must miss them. Did you come all the way from Elturel together?”

Rolan nodded jerkily, surprised that she had remembered where he was from. “Yes. It was a long and perilous journey but we made it. I’m lucky to have them.”

“Well… I hope you have a good evening.” She took a step towards him, reaching out, and for an irrational moment, he thought she was going to touch his face, but she scratched Myshka under the chin instead.

Standing this close, he could smell her perfume. He could count the freckles on her nose. It was a wonder she couldn’t hear his heartbeat.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asked. The words were out of his mouth before he’d had a chance to process what he was saying.

She looked up at him, mouth falling open in surprise. “Oh. I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding.”

She closed her mouth, tilting her head to the side contemplatively. “This old tower does get pretty lonely,” she said. “It’s not like I have many opportunities to make new friends. Lorroakan doesn’t like me going out in the evenings.”

He gave her a questioning look, and she faltered.

“I mean… He’s just worried about my safety, is all,” she clarified, stumbling over her words a little.

“Of course,” he said.

“Did you really mean it? I don’t have to come. I don’t want to interrupt a reunion with your siblings.”

“They’d be happy to meet you,” he said, “and hopefully soon they’ll be let into the city proper, and I won’t have to spend months apart from them.”

Tavya nodded. “It’s a shame they can’t live here. Lorroakan is…” She looked as though she was choosing her words very carefully. “…particular about his space.”

“As is his right,” said Rolan, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

“Of course,” she said cautiously. “I need to change into something more appropriate for an evening out. Do I have time to bathe?”

Rolan blinked, trying not to focus on the image that her words had brought up in his mind. “I’m leaving in an hour.”

“Okay, good, I’ll be back.”

She gave Myshka one last scritch and then headed towards her bedroom.

*

Rolan was warned of Tav’s approach by the sound of her high-heeled boots clicking against the stairs.

“Does this look alright?” she asked, and he turned to face her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been out in the evening.”

In Rolan’s opinion, she looked a hell of a lot more than ‘alright’. Her dark brown hair fell in loose curls down to her mid-back. She was wearing dark lipstick that stood out against her pale skin. She’d opted for a dark green dress with a modest neckline, that nonetheless clung to her curves.

Rolan realised that he was staring. She was looking at him expectantly, and he remembered that she’d asked him a question.

“Uh… You look…” He searched for a word that was complimentary, but not too complimentary. “Nice.” Her face fell a little, so he quickly said, “The dress is lovely, the green really suits you.”

“Thank you, Rolan.”

She gave Myshka a kiss goodbye and then the two of them set off. The cobblestones weren’t all that friendly to her boots, so he offered her an arm, which she accepted gratefully.

He wondered if he should be nervous to be seen like this, arm in arm with his master’s wife. Did the people of Baldur’s Gate know her face? Would anyone tell Lorroakan?

But Tav didn’t seem too concerned, and he was sure she knew better than he did, so he tried to relax.

The Elfsong wasn’t too crowded when they arrived, so Rolan immediately spotted his siblings sitting at a table in the corner. He made eye contact with Lia from across the room and she practically leapt to her feet.

Rolan met her in the middle and she threw her arms around his neck.

“Rolan!” she gasped, squeezing him tight. She wasn’t usually so physically affectionate with him, but this was situation was far from usual. They hadn’t been apart for so long since their parents had taken him in.

He felt Cal’s arm wrap around him, so he pulled one arm free of Lia’s grip to embrace his brother as well.

“We made it,” said Cal. “Baldur’s Gate.”

Neither of them seemed too keen on letting him go, but eventually he had to pull back, albeit reluctantly. It had been so long since he’d been held.

He stood with them at arms’ length, taking them both in. Cal’s hair was growing out. Lia’s, on the contrary, had been roughly chopped to just longer than chin length. They both looked thinner than the last time he’d seen them, with clothes that looked a little more threadbare, although they were smiling at him.

He was suddenly very aware of the fineness of his own robe. It was one of the few things Lorroakan had given him. He couldn’t have his apprentice looking scruffy.

Rolan must’ve frowned at the thought, because Lia’s face fell. She cocked her head to the side, looking him up and down. For a moment, he was worried that there was some injury he had missed. She was worryingly perceptive.

“You’re looking well,” she said, and he felt the tightness in his chest loosen. “Come, we’ve got a table, let’s sit down.”

He turned, and found himself almost running right into Tav. That brought him up short. For the briefest of moments, he had completely forgotten that he’d brought her. He looked down at her guiltily.  

She didn’t seem all that upset to have been ignored. Instead, she held up a bottle of wine.

“I got red, I hope that’s okay,” she said.

Rolan could feel the eyes of his siblings on him, so he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Cal, Lia, I hope you don’t mind that I invited Tavya tonight.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she said, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Tavya,” said Lia. “Charmed.” There was a glint in her eye that Rolan didn’t like, and he was determined to snuff it out before she said anything to embarrass him.

“Tavya is a friend of mine. She is Master Lorroakan’s wife,” he said. Lia raised an eyebrow at that.

“Please, call me Tav,” said Tav.

The four of them sat down at the table and Tav immediately set to pouring the wine. Rolan tried to offer to pay her back for what she’d paid for it, but she waved him away. He felt a little guilty, but it wasn’t like she was lacking for money.

It was a good thing, too. Seeing his siblings like this made him realise that he should be sending them more of his meagre paycheque. It wasn’t like he had much to spend his own money on, as room and board were provided.

Tonight, he would treat them to a good meal, and tomorrow he would start saving more to ensure that they weren’t going hungry.

“Are you both well?” he asked, eyeing the way his sister was taking a deep swig of wine. “Perhaps we should get some food in us before we get too deep into festivities.”

“You’re no fun,” said Lia, but didn’t protest as Rolan stood up to go and order at the bar. Tavya reached for her pouch of gold, but Rolan pretended he didn’t see. It was one thing to accept drinks from her but he didn’t want him thinking that he’d invited her here purely to mooch off her kindness.

When he returned to the table, Tav seemed to be in deep conversation with his siblings. Lia was giggling. That surely couldn’t be a good sign.

“What are you laughing about?” Rolan asked as he sat down in the chair beside Tav.

“We hear you’ve befriended a cat, Rolan,” said Cal, a teasing note in his tone.

“Well, Lorroakan ensures I have a lot of work to do, so I hardly have time to befriend anyone else. Myshka enjoys the relative comfort and, uh, peace of my bedroom.” He glanced at Tav. He wondered if he’d said too much. Even alluding to Lorroakan’s violent nature seemed risky.

“I’m not surprised your bedroom is peaceful, it’s not like you get any action,” said Lia, and Rolan’s jaw dropped. The wine must’ve been going to her head already.

“Lia,” Cal admonished, but he was laughing too. Rolan snuck a look at Tav, and found that she was grinning. Zurgan. This was embarrassing.

Lia reached for the bottle of wine but Rolan was faster, deftly sliding it out of reach. “I think perhaps we should slow down on the wine until we’ve eaten something.”

“Boooo,” said Lia, trying to swipe the bottle from his hands, but Rolan held it away from her.

“So, I hear the two of you have made friends with some Harpers,” said Tav, and Rolan was grateful at the subject change. “Do you know Jaheira?”

“We met her in the Shadow-Cursed Lands,” said Cal. “She put us in touch with some people to help us once we got here. The Harpers have been a real help around the refugee camp, making sure everyone gets fed.”

Not well enough, thought Rolan, eyeing his siblings.

Tav took a sip of her drink and nodded. “That sounds like the Harpers.”

“You’re familiar with them?” asked Lia.

“Oh yeah. I met Jaheira when I was just a little girl. I wanted desperately to be a Harper but my father never would’ve allowed it,” she said wistfully. “I heard them described as a band of bards and rogues who do their best to help people, and I thought I’d fit right in.”

“So which are you?” asked Lia.

“Hm?”

“A bard or a rogue?”

Tav chuckled. “A little of both, I think.”

Rolan opened his mouth, wanting to know more, but at that moment, their food arrived. The man was just setting down a plate of Rothé ribs in front of Tav when he did a double take.

“Well, I’ll be! If it isn’t Miss Tav!” he said bombastically.

Tav let out an awkward giggle. “Good evening Alan.”

“It is you! It’s been an awfully long time, Miss. Something must be keeping you busy these days.”

“My husband,” she said, and didn’t clarify any further.

Alan shook his head. “Such a shame. The old regulars still ask about you sometimes. You used to light up this place.”

Cal and Lia were looking at Tav with curiosity, but Rolan was just confused. At the look on his face, Tav said, “I used to play here sometimes.”

“She’s being modest,” said Alan. “She’s the finest violinist I’ve ever heard, and a dab hand at the lute as well. Beautiful voice too.” The violinist part Rolan could vouch for, but he’d never heard her play the lute or sing. She was blushing now. “Why don’t you give us a song? For old times’ sake? Business hasn’t been the same without you.”

“I’d certainly like to hear you sing,” said Cal.

“Me too,” Lia agreed.

Tav looked at Rolan then. “What about you, Rolan? What do you think?”

Rolan couldn’t deny that he was intrigued, but the idea of saying so was mortifying. “I think that you are an excellent musician, and you should only perform if you want to.” Alan was still hovering beside them, expectantly.

“Would you at least let me finish my ribs first?” she said, mock-angrily.

“Of course, of course. And the food is on the house. Anything for an old friend.”

Tav groaned. “Fine, I’ll perform for you. Will you bring my friends here some bread? And perhaps some sweet buns for dessert?” She gestured at Cal and Lia. “They need fattening up.”

Cal let out a startled laugh. Rolan watched Lia, eyes wide. She had a bit of a temper, and he wasn’t sure if she’d take that as an insult. To his relief, she just snorted and raised her goblet of wine.

“I’ll drink to that,” she said.

Ribs were difficult to eat in a ladylike manner. Tav tucked a napkin into the front of her dress to protect it and then she dug in.

It was hard for Rolan not to stare. Tav didn’t eat much at the tower, and the food she did eat was eaten daintily with cutlery. Right now, she was digging into her Rothé ribs like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Sauce coated her lips, so she ran her tongue over them to clean them off. Rolan felt a stirring deep inside him, and quickly looked away.

He found himself making eye contact with Lia, who, again, just raised her eyebrows at him. He glared at her, hoping she’d get the message.

Fortunately, she quickly became distracted by her own meal. Rolan was sure he’d been right that his siblings hadn’t been eating well, and their reactions to the food in front of them only reinforced that belief.

He would’ve been embarrassed by their table manners if Tav didn’t have sauce dripping down her chin right now.

Rolan himself couldn’t bring himself to eat with such reckless abandon. He ate his dinner slowly, trying to make a good impression.

None of them spoke much while eating. When Tav was done, she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

As if he’d been watching them, Alan appeared by their table once more, looming over Tav with an expectant look on his face.

“Let me go wash up,” she said, indicating her sticky hands and face.

“Excellent,” said Alan. “One of our regular bards has offered to lend you her lute. It’s a shame I couldn’t find a violin at such short notice.”

“I’m rusty with the lute, but I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as Tav was out of sight, Rolan turned his attention back to his siblings, and found them both watching him intently.

“You know…” said Lia, and Rolan already knew that he wasn’t going to like whatever she was about to say. “She looks a little bit like Louisa.”

Rolan felt his stomach do a flip. He hadn’t heard that name in a long time.

Cal tilted his head to the side. “Oh, I can kinda see it,” he said.

“Be quiet, both of you,” Rolan hissed. His cheeks were hot. Louisa had been a human girl back in Elturel that his siblings had often teased him about having a crush on. She certainly had long dark curls like Tav’s, and the same petite frame, but that was where the similarities ended.

It didn’t matter anyway. Louisa had been polite to him, but she clearly wasn’t interested, and he hadn’t seen her since Elturel fell. He hadn’t thought about her in almost as long, since his focus had been keeping his family safe. He didn’t even know if she was still alive.

“Whatever you think is happening, isn’t,” he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

“I know,” said Lia. “But please be careful, alright? She’s Lorroakan’s wife.”

“I’m very aware of that fact, thank you,” he snapped.

“She’s coming back,” warned Cal, and Rolan sat up a little straighter.

Indeed, Tav was heading back to their table, but she was waylaid by Alan, who handed her the lute and ushered her over to the little raised platform that served as a stage. There was a stool waiting for her, which she hopped up onto.

The crowd grew quiet. It was a strange thing. Perhaps the audience were old fans of her from her days before Lorroakan, and they’d been anticipating this day. Or perhaps they just saw a beautiful woman holding an instrument and wanted to know if she was any good.

She plucked a pretty little melody on the lute, and the crowd’s silence deepened. It was like she was casting some kind of spell on them. Rolan wondered if she was. He hadn’t studied bardic magic – he had never considered it worth his time – but he knew that there were some who could cast powerful spells with the aid of music.

Tav opened her mouth and started to sing. Her voice was high and sweet and clear and Rolan couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He wasn’t the only one. He had no idea that it was possible for a room full of drunks to be so rapt.

Her song was unfamiliar. The lyrics told the story of a bird being kept in a golden cage, and eventually losing its voice. At the end, the bird gained its freedom, but only in death. Its spirit flew through the skies of the city, singing beautiful songs.

As Tav’s final notes played out, there was a moment of silence before the crowd erupted into rapturous applause.

“Rolan,” said Lia softly, and he turned to look at her. “Are you alright?”

Rolan cleared his throat, realising that his eyes were watering. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” He glanced between his siblings again. “I am… sorry. For bringing Tav without asking you two. I’m sure you were hoping to catch up with me alone.”

Cal shook his head. “Don’t apologise. She’s lovely. And it’s good for us to get a sense of what your life in the tower is like.”

��Of course,” said Rolan, feeling a little uncomfortable at the fact that he had been lying to his siblings about the reality of his situation with Lorroakan. He didn’t want them to worry about him.

“And besides, if the Harpers let me join officially then we’ll be able to come visit a lot more often,” said Lia.

That cheered Rolan a little, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. As much as he missed his siblings, keeping that at a distance meant it was easier to keep them in the dark about the way Lorroakan treated him. Would they lose respect for him if they knew he couldn’t stand up for himself?

Of course not, a small voice in the back of his mind murmured. They love you.

Still. Distance from Lorroakan kept them safe. Would Lia be safe with the Harpers?

Before he could think about it any further, Tav started up playing again, this time strumming a far more upbeat tune. There was a roar of appreciation from the crowd, so he assumed that they must’ve known the song, even if he didn’t.

From what he could piece together over the sounds of the crowd, it was a bawdy tale about a young noble woman going out into the world and making all sorts of trouble for herself. He couldn’t help but smile at that.

He reached across the table and took one of Lia’s hands in his own. She looked slightly bemused at this uncharacteristic display of affection, but squeezed his hand back.

“Tell me about the refugee camp. Is everything alright there?” Rolan asked.

“It’s lively,” said Lia. “Lot of people coming and going. It’s not exactly… peaceful.”

Again, Rolan felt a stab of guilt that he hadn’t been able to get his siblings lodgings in the tower. At the tower, they would be safe and well-fed and always have a bed to sleep in. Well. As long as they stayed out of Lorroakan’s way.

“It’s not so bad,” said Cal. “There are lots of orphans, though. It makes me sad. You see all these families torn apart. It reminds me of how lucky we are to still have each other.”

“I’ve missed you,” said Rolan, reaching out a hand to Cal now too, who grasped it immediately. “It’s lonely without you. The only people I interact with on a daily basis are Lorroakan and Tav.”

“What about customers?” asked Lia.

“Ugh. Customers.”

“Please,” said Cal, “You know how Rolan feels about the general public.” Lia let out a guffaw.

Rolan just rolled his eyes. “I think we need more wine.”

All in all, it was a good night. He drank and talked with his siblings. Tav would occasionally pop up between songs for a drink and a brief chat before she would get dragged back onto stage by her adoring audience.

At around a midnight, a young half-elf man – a Harper, as Rolan understood it – with long dark hair came over to their table and apologetically informed Cal and Lia that it was time to head back to the camp.

As they gathered up their things, Lia gave Rolan a hug and whispered in his ear. “That’s Geraldus. Cal fancies him.”

Rolan looked Geraldus up and down, and then looked at his brother. He had chalked it up to the alcohol before, but now that he was really looking, he could see that Cal was blushing a little as Geraldus set a hand on his arm. Rolan raised his eyebrows at his brother, but Cal quickly looked away.

“I think I’ve sung more than enough to cover my supper.” Tav’s voice broke out over the hubbub. She was pressing the lute back into Alan’s hands, although he seemed very keen for her to keep playing. “My friends are leaving, so I think it’s time for me to head home.”

She wouldn’t be swayed. Although she had only just met them, she gave both Cal and Lia hugs before they left. They came back to embrace Rolan one more time, and then they were gone, being swept away out into the night air of Baldur’s Gate.

Rolan had a funny, tight feeling in his chest. He missed them already. He had no idea when he’d next see them.

“Are you alright?” asked Tav.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” His tone was clipped, trying to keep the emotion at bay.

“One more drink for the road?” she suggested, and he agreed, if only to quiet the burning feeling in his chest.

As they settled back at their table with a final goblet of wine each, Tav said, “That must’ve been hard for you. Saying goodbye again, I mean.”

Rolan didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone the way you love your brother and sister. It’s so nice to see.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “No one?”

“I have no siblings,” she said.

“Your parents?”

“My mother died when I was very young. I don’t remember her at all. And my father…” She grimaced, swirling her drink around in her goblet. “Well, let’s just say I don’t have warm feelings towards him.”

“… Lorroakan?” Rolan’s tone was cautious.

Tav looked back at him, disbelieving. “You think I love Lorroakan?”

“Well, you did marry him.”

“Not by choice.” She took a deep swig of her drink. “Well, not my choice, anyway.”

Rolan sat frozen, staring back her. She looked suddenly very tired. They were both drunk and she was clearly exhausted. He should take her home before she could say something she’d regret. Still, he was rooted to the spot, in expectation of what she might say next.

“I’ve never been loved the way you love your siblings either. My father loves me the way he’d love a particularly shiny gold piece. Lorroakan would be happier if I were some kind of life-size doll that cooked his meals and kept his bed warm. He’d sew my mouth shut if he didn’t love hearing me call him Master while he’s bending me over his desk.”

Rolan’s face heated up. Tav grimaced, as if her words had only just caught up with her. Her ears had gone completely pink.

“Ignore me,” she said. “I’m drunk. I shouldn’t say such things. It’s unbecoming of a lady.”

“Myshka loves you,” Rolan interjected.

She looked at him, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“These patrons love you.” He gestured around the bar.

“They hardly know me.”

“Still. You had them hanging on your every word tonight.”

She finished off her drink, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then gave a small burp. Laughter bubbled up in his chest.

“And what about you, Rolan?” She planted her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm. “Would you miss me if I died?”

“I… Uh… You’re kind to me,” he stammered, feeling his cheeks heat up again.

“Oh, I see. You’d miss the things I could do for you,” she said. Rolan couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or not.

“No, I mean…” He sighed. “I enjoy your company, Tav.”

A smile flickered across her lips. “I enjoy your company too, Rolan. Now…” She put her hands on the table and unsteadily pushed herself to her feet. “I should get home before I embarrass myself any further.”

“You haven’t-”

“My tongue has been far too loose tonight. If my husband heard what I’d been saying…” She shook her head, lips pressed together in a tight line.

“He won’t,” he reassured her.

“I know.”

Rolan drained his goblet and stood up as well. She took hold of his arm to steady herself. He let her lean on him as they walked out of the inn.

“I never asked,” he started, feeling a little awkward. “How did you know about my healing potions?”

Tav gave a wry smile. “Myshka saw you sneaking out the empty bottles. He didn’t understand what you were doing, of course, but I did. I figured that since Lorroakan is my husband, I should try to help you if I could. I may not have chosen him, but I do feel somewhat responsible for his behaviour.”

Rolan furrowed his brow. “Why?”

She pursed her lips. “Lorroakan is a simple man. As his wife, I have certain… methods of influencing him. It wasn’t always easy, but I’ve been married to him for five years now. I can foretell the changing of his moods, most of the time at least. I know when to simper and fawn, I know when to ask him for things I want, and I know when to hide.”

He stopped in his tracks. Tav stumbled, the heel of her boot catching between two cobblestones. She would’ve fallen had he not caught her, a firm arm wrapping around her waist to hold her still.

“Tav,” he said, his tone serious.

Tav grimaced, not meeting his eye. “Sorry. These bloody boots. They’re not great on cobblestones.”

“Tav,” Rolan repeated. “Why do you need to hide from Lorroakan?” She just blinked at him, her eyes wide. He sighed. “Has he hurt you?”

She forced a smile onto her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It was an expression he was familiar with. It was the same one he wore when serving customers in Sorcerous Sundries. She was shutting him out, and he hated it.

He was still supporting most of her weight. Her hands were clutching at his upper arms for balance.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I know how to handle him.”

“Tav…”

“We should get home.” She patted his shoulders, and he reluctantly released her. “I’m tired.”

“… Of course.”

Because who did he think he was? It wasn’t his place to intervene in his master’s marriage. So what if he hurt her? That wasn’t any of Rolan’s business.

The image of Tav, beaten and bloody, flashed across his mind. He blinked it away.

Tav was fine. She was uninjured, right in front of him, fussing over the heel of her boot.

“It broke off,” she said, holding up the broken piece of heel. “Shit.”

It wasn’t all that far to Sorcerous Sundries, but Tav had already been unsteady before her shoe had broken.

“I could carry you,” he offered.

Tav blinked up at him. “It’s alright. I can just go barefoot.”

“And get your feet cut up on broken glass and Gods-know-what?” He scoffed. “Come on. You can climb up on my back. I may be a wizard, but I’m stronger than I look.”

“Okay,” said Tav. “Can you bend down?”

Feeling nowhere near as awkward as he should’ve, Rolan squatted, allowing Tav to clamber up onto his back. As her arms wrapped around his neck from behind, he had to suppress a shiver.

He hooked his hands underneath her knees, and once he was sure she was secure, he stood up.

“Woah,” Tav breathed. Her mouth was far closer to his ear than he anticipated, and he felt a twitching in his groin. It didn’t help that the smell of her perfume was everywhere. “I don’t normally see things from this high up. Is this what it’s like to be tall?” She rested her chin on his shoulder.

He huffed out a laugh. “You’re drunk,” he said.

“So are you!”

“Let’s get you home.” He started to walk.

“Onwards, good sir,” she said, and then descended into a fit of laughter. She had a lovely laugh. He didn’t think he would ever tire of hearing it.

If he had been sober, perhaps he might have considered how the two of them would appear from the outside. His master’s wife was on his back, her chin on his shoulder, giggling breathlessly. Perhaps he might’ve worried what the neighbours would think if they saw them. As it stood, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Your hair is coming loose,” she said suddenly.

“Oh.”

“I rather like it. You should wear your hair down.”

He laughed nervously. “I find it gets in the way.”

She touched the knot he’d tied it into earlier, and a shiver went down his spine. He could indeed feel the loose strands sticking to the back of his neck with sweat.

“May I?” she asked.

“Go ahead.”

Deftly, she untied his hair, letting it fall down to his shoulders. She didn’t stop there, though. She mussed it, detangling and straightening it out, until it was as though it had never been tied back.

If he hadn’t been walking, Rolan would’ve closed his eyes, leaning into the sensation of having his hair played with. It was a weakness of his.

“I like your hair down too,” he said. “It suits you.”

“Really?” She laughed again. “Lorroakan hates it. It gets everywhere. He says it makes me look scruffy.”

“He’s an idiot.”

She giggled, wrapping her arms back around his neck. “He is. In so many ways.”

“Only Lorroakan could be married to a woman as beautiful as you and still find reasons to complain.”

Tav inhaled sharply. Rolan’s brain caught up to his mouth a moment too late, and he bit his tongue hard. Before she could respond, they rounded the corner onto the square that housed Sorcerous Sundries, and he cleared his throat loudly.

“Here we are,” he announced, entirely unnecessarily. “Almost home.”

“…Mhm.”

Neither of them spoke as they crossed the square. He didn’t set her down until they were standing under the awning of the shop. As he unlocked the doors, Tav pulled off her boots.

Barefoot, the height difference between them was even more apparent. He pulled back the heavy door and held it open for her.

“Thank you, Rolan,” she said, walking into the shop. “You really saved me from the peril of stepping on glass shards, or a twisted ankle.”

He followed her inside, pulling the door shut behind him. He locked it and checked the wards were all still in place. It was a fairly involved process, so he was surprised to find that she was still standing there when he was done. He had expected her to head straight for the portal.

The two of them walked together up the staircase, close but not touching. Rolan let her lead the way through the portal. It was dark in Ramazith’s tower when they made it inside.

The hallway that led to the master bedroom went past Rolan’s room, so the two of them continued walking together. When he stopped outside his bedroom door, she stopped too.

“Rolan,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for inviting me out tonight. It was nice to meet your siblings. They seem lovely. I was going out of my mind with boredom in this place.”

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “Hearing you perform was…” He searched for the right word: complimentary, but not effusive. The only one he could think of was, “Incredible.” It was accurate, at least.

She laughed a little shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. The light was low, but because of his darkvision, he could still see her clearly. She was blushing.

A very stupid part of his brain told him to kiss her. She looked up at him, her pretty eyes finding his. Her lips looked so soft. She looked as though she was expecting him to do something, or say something. He wanted more than anything to pull her into his room, peel her out of that dress and make her scream his name.

But she was his master’s wife. If Lorroakan found out, he’d probably kill both of them.

And besides, why would a woman like her ever want a man like him? If she let him kiss her, it would be because he was the only man available who wasn’t her husband. It wouldn’t be because she actually wanted him. Not really.

“Goodnight, Tav,” he said.

She stared at him for a few seconds more. “Goodnight, Rolan.”

She disappeared down the corridor towards her own room. Rolan couldn’t help but watch her go, wondering if it was a mistake. As soon as she was out of sight, he opened his bedroom door and slipped inside.

He didn’t bother to change into pyjamas, simply stripping naked and climbing into bed. He took his rapidly hardening cock into his hand, his mind conjuring images of what could have been if he’d been a weaker man.

---

Notes:

in case you missed it last chapter, you can see what Tavya looks like here

Next Chapter