#and the amount of work they put into this!!!

[cutielando]

mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri

Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!

Words: 1.3k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar and Y/N.

Y/N and Oscar.

Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.

Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.

They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.

Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.

Real and pure.

When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.

They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.

They made it work.

But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.

He needed to officially make you his.

Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.

You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.

Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.

He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.

“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”

“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.

As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.

It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.

“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.

All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.

“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.

The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.

Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.

It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.

You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.

Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.

After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.

Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.

“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.

Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.

The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.

And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.

Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.

“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.

“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.

You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.

You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.

After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.

But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.

The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.

You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.

Nothing could ever be better.

Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.

Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.

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[c-nstantine]

okay but newlywed jason and reader fucking raw for the first time on their wedding night 🥰 (please and thank you🫶🏼)

-🌷

Warnings: 18+, also this isn't like good smut but it is super smutty

word count: 0.9k

Jason was impatient. Being impatient at his wedding was probably the worst thing imaginable. All he wanted was to be close to his wife in her gorgeous white dress that only accentuated her every curve. So, he waited and waited until it was time for him and her to finally leave. They were supposed to spend one night in Gotham before taking off on their honeymoon. Jason barely allowed her to reach the threshold of the hotel door before pouncing on her. 

His mouth was on hers as his hands searched for the best way to get her out of the dress. He should've been planning this. He thought the dress was money well spent but it would look so much better on the floor.

"Jason, the dress," She gasped as she heard buttons ripp from behind her. Jason snorted and began to kiss down her neck as he continued to rip the fabric. That's what they get for putting a million tiny buttons, he thought.

"Sweetheart, you were only gonna wear it once anyway," He reminded her. She shook her head at her new husband's antics and was glad she went with a simple hairstyle. 

"I have been waiting to tear this off of you all day," He groaned as he tore through the last of the fabric and helped her step out of the last of the dress. He could feel his dick strain against his pants as he took in the sight of her body in white lace lingerie. He couldn't undress himself quickly enough.

"Did you wear this just for me?" He asked once he was stripped down to his boxers. She took his hand and led him to the bed of the hotel with a shy nod. She went to kneel but Jason stopped her.

"I vowed as your husband to always take care of you first," He spoke genuinely and gestured for her to get on the bed. Once she was on her back he crawled in between her legs and licked a broad stripe to her white lace panties. He pulled them down and was tempted to sniff them before diving into the feast in front of him. No, he'd save the sniffing for later.

Hooking his arms around her thighs, he dove into her pussy. He was sure to spell his name with his tongue because every part of her was his. He pumped two fingers in and out of her as his tongue danced along her clit. Her hips pressed further into his face as he continued his work. He would look up through his thick lashes to see the most beautiful sight in the world. Her moans were a little too close to an orgasm for his comfort so he stopped his pumping and removed his fingers from her. He made a show of sucking her pussy juice off each of his fingers.

"Jay, I need you," She whined as he slid off the bed to check his bag for condoms.

"Just a sec," He was moving as quickly as he could. He wanted this as much as she did. Their first night together as husband and wife. It had to be perfect.

"We don't need those," She called out. Jason froze in his actions. Before the wedding, the two of them had been so careful to avoid any slip-ups. Who was he to deny a request of his wife?

"Oh, you want me to fill your pussy with cum? Make you mine in every way possible?" He walked over to the bed and hovered over her. He nipped at the top of her still-confined breasts before undoing the hook in the front. He sucked one breast while kneading the other with his calloused hand.

"Please," She begged for him to fuck her how he had been dreaming about. He rubbed her clit with his cock before sinking into her pussy. Their hips met and she let out a small hiss from his size. No matter how many times she had taken his dick before there was always an adjustment to his heavy cock.

"It's okay, you can take it, " Jason kissed the top of her hairline before slowly sliding in and out of her pussy. Jason had flushed red from the amount of self-control it took for him not to explode in the moment. It was the first time they had ever fucked raw and he could feel the warmth of her pussy in ways he had only dreamed about.

He noticed that her face was less tense and her expression had turned to bliss. He placed his hands on her hips and began to stroke faster. Her hands dug into his shoulders and crescent nail marks were embedded in his flesh. His arms were strong from years of training and working out but now they were great for holding her in place so she couldn't squirm from his cock.

"That's it, baby," He grunted as her legs opened wider to give him better access. Her mouth fell open once he hit the perfect spot. Jason smirked and continued to drill into her. Her breaths became sharper as Jason whispered words of encouragement to her. He reminded her over and over how perfect she was and her pussy was made just for him.

"Cum on my cock, baby," He was doing his best to keep his orgasm at bay so that she could reach hers. With a few more strokes, she fell apart on his cock. Her breaths were uneven as she reached her orgasm. Jason let out a deep breath as he came into her. He continued his thrusts ever so slightly just to watch the cum cream around his cock. Yeah, this was his favorite part of marriage.

taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo

[kingkaizen]

𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼

∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3

∘ ft: nanami

∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3

∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation

“Focus for me, sweetheart.”

Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.

“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.

“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.

“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.

“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 

“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.

“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 

“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples. “I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[running-with-kn1ves]

Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 

Antoine shook your shoulders. 

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 

“O-okay.. I guess..” 

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 

“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his ��magic fingers” again. 

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 

 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 

[avocad1s]

Trial By Combat - 6

Requested By: No one. Original Work

CW: manipulation?

Summary: Arlecchino’s got a secret…

Note: You all asked and I will provide! Here’s part six <3 this chapter is a bit slow but I promise it’s leading up to something great!

Part One —> Part Five

-

Fontaine, for the most part, had finally begun to go back to normal. Although no trials have been held since the Creators trial, many shops have reopened their doors to the public once more. It’s as if Fontainians want to disregard the event entirely, treating it as a work of fiction like the Prophecy. However, this doesn’t stop The Steambird from posting every single update regarding the Creator, nor does it stop every copy from selling out.

Despite the lack of trials, it hasn’t prevented the Chief Justice from sending criminals to the Fortress of Meropide, and only hours from now, Paimon and Aether would be a part of the group sent there. The two were the only customers dining at Cafe Lutece this afternoon, the owner seemed almost eager to provide the gluttonous amount of food the duo had ordered.

“Oh Paimon is feeling a bunch of nerves right now and it’s just making her more hungry.” She whines while rubbing her stomach. “I’m just hoping that the food in the Fortress is actually tasty.”

Aether lets out a soft chuckle, “it’s a prison Paimon. I doubt that the food will be any good”

Paimon pouts crossing her arms. “Hopefully will be rightfully compensated for our due diligence. Oh! Maybe even something from the Creator themselves!”

The traveler gives her a look, “you shouldn’t think like that Paimon, not when they are currently missing right now.”

The travel guide immediately covers her lips, muttering out a small apology.

“Speaking of the Creator,” Paimon says, “do you really think Childe might know something? I mean, we’ve heard how he’s talked about them before.”

It was true, during their time in Liyue when they had met Childe, he had expressed how heavily he revered the Creator. Not just him, all of the harbingers they’ve met have mentioned the Creator in a positive light. Aether even recalls when the Wanderer told him that the only thing all of the harbingers could agree on was their ultimate respect for them.

“Based off our interactions with the Fatui before, they might have some respect for Their Grace. But we still have no idea why they want the Gnosis, maybe it’s connected to the Creator.”

Paimon nods in agreement. “You’re right. If the gnosis are what connect the Archons to Celestia, then maybe the Creator has something similar?”

“Hopefully if the Fatui got their hands on Their Grace, they haven’t left Fontaine yet. We should still be able to rescue them.” Aether adds.

“Paimon hopes so too! Oh I can only imagine the type of horrors they could be putting them through!”

“Are you talking about Their Grace?!”

A familiar girl with a pink bob holding a camera in her head pops out of a bush quickly approaching the table. It was Charlotte, and she had a large smile on her face.

“Do you two have any nuggets of information about Their Grace? Oh please share it with me, I’ll make it worth your while!”

Paimon and Aether share a look before looking back at the journalist.

“We don’t have any new information on The Creator.” Paimon explained, “we didn’t even know they had returned until Monsieur Neuvillette told us.”

Charlotte makes a look of surprise, “wait seriously? It was such big news! I’m sure everyone in Teyvat wrote the piece I had written.”

Charlotte places her camera on the table taking a seat across from them. “I’m just hoping for Their Grace to have a speedy recovery. I would love to interview them if they let me, it just seems like all of the big names in Fontaine never have the time for an interview. Monsieur Neuvillette and the Duke of Meropide have been on the top of my list for ages now!”

“Oh right, you’re a journalist Charlotte! ” Paimon exclaimed, “do you have an information about the Duke?”

Charlotte ponders for a moment, “not really, just the same regurgitated information I get from people who leave the Fortress. Why do you ask?”

“We actually are going to the Fortress later today.” Aether answers.

Charlotte’s eyes get as big as saucers as she’s jumping in her seat. “You two are going to the Fortress?! Will you two please get some information about the Duke for me?

Noticing the restrained looks on their face, Charlotte quickly adds, “I’ll pay for your meal! Yeah…! Let’s make it a deal, you get information on the Duke for me and this meal of yours is on me!”

Paimon grins, “it’s a deal!”

Charlotte shares Paimon’s enthusiasm as she pulls out a small bag of mora ready to pay for the meal. At that moment, the owner returns with multiple plates and bowls filled with various amounts of entrees and desserts wheeling it to the table.

“H—how much did you order…?”

———

Many journalist stood outside of the Palais Mermonia demanding answers from their Archon who had entered the building earlier that morning. Luckily, gardes stood outside preventing anyone from entering.

Inside of the chief justice’s office was him, the God of Justice, and the Champion Duelist whose hair was damp with sea water.

“I checked the surrounding area,” Clorinde says, “there is no traces of Their Grace anywhere. The only logical conclusion is that the Fatui must’ve done something with them.”

Neuvillette nods. “Thank you for looking Clorinde, your help is appreciated.”

Clorinde nods, “it’s no trouble. We all want Their Grace to be found safe and sound.”

Furina had a worried look on her face as she paces back and forth in the office. “W—what are we supposed to do now? We looked all over Fontaine and they aren’t anywhere.”

“Lady Furina.”

Furina stops pacing, turning her gaze over to Neuvillette who looked calm considering the situation. “I think it’s time to meet with the Kanve, wouldn’t you agree?”

“T—that Knave?” Furina stammers, “ha, why would we meet with her? Don’t we have more important things to worry about?”

Neuvillette clears his throat, “until we find Their Grace, we must operate like normal. If the others find out that we lost Their Grace—“

Furina lets out a breath putting on a confident stance, “yes! Right of course!” She interrupts, “I was thinking the same thing… I will prepare for the two of us to discuss relations with her as soon as possible.”

“Who said that I would be joining you?”

Focalors lets out a short gasp as she quickly approaches his desk, her gloved hands balling into fists. “Y—you expect me to attend the meeting alone! No! You must go with me!”

Neuvillette closes his eyes as he shake her head, “I must focus all my attention on the Creator, we must locate them before the rest of Fontaine and Teyvat begin asking questions. As the Archon, this is something you should be able to handle. Correct?”

Furina tenses slightly but lets out a sigh. “But… wouldn’t attending the meeting be the best thing for Their Grace?”

Neuvillette furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”

Furina’s confident flair was back just as quickly as it dissipated, “Attending the meeting will give us the chance to indirectly interrogate the harbingers before she even knows that we suspect her.”

Noticing the look on the chief justice’s face, Furina lets out a boastful laugh. “Naturally I, the God of Justice, would be the first one to think of this! Worry not Neuvillette, I believe that after this meeting, the truth shall be revealed!”

Clorinde mutters how she needed a towel and Neuvillette lets out a sigh.

“Very well... I will participate in the meeting.”

In between Fontaine’s Lumidouce Harbor and Chenyu Vale, a large ship was anchored the familiar insignia imprinted in the sail. There was a plethora of Fatui agents stationed on the ship that it was overwhelming, it would be impossible to infiltrate the ship without being spotted.

Many of the agents weren’t even aware why there was such an urgency to return to the homeland. Curious glances and whispers spread throughout the ship like wildfire, wondering what could the Knave possibly be doing in the lower deck that no one else was allowed to enter unless they brought news from Fontaine. All of them knew better than to question their harbinger, but she hadn’t been seen since the night before.

“Your Grace.”

Arlecchino’s soft voice cuts through your thoughts. Fontaine was in danger and you were the only one who could help, at least that’s what she believed. It was only a matter of time before the nation was completely wiped off the map, Lady Furina has done nothing but bury her head in the sand.

You glance at her face, despite her sharp features she still had a soft yet powerful air around her. Maybe that’s why the children from the House of the Hearth trust her so much.

“Are you hungry? I have chefs on board, they can prepare anything you desire.” Her hand rested on top of yours, her long nails rubbing against your knuckles in a comforting way.

You were famished. You knew she was capable of, but she was making you feel so welcomed. It felt as if you could trust her, tell her anything and she would understand.

You nod slowly and she smiles.

“I’ll be right back.”

She stands up from her spot next to you leaving the room. Her luscious black and white hair that was pulled into a low ponytail flowed behind her. Arlecchino returned quickly letting out a soft sigh.

“They are preparing a Snezhnayian specialty, the food is quite delicious. I hope it’s to your liking” She commented placing her hand right back on top of yours.

“We will be heading towards Snezhnaya at sunset.” She says. “Although leaving Fontaine wasn’t originally apart of my plan, but considering the circumstances, changes had to be made.”

You furrow your brows. “The circumstances?”

Arlecchino nods. “Your power…or rather, lack there of.”

“I have a colleague, I do not trust nor like him very much but I cannot deny his intelligence, I believe he may be able to figure out the answer… or even Her Majesty may know.”

So there was a colleague within the Fatui who had extreme intelligence that might be able to help you. Maybe he would even know why you were healing so quickly? Or does that tie into your “godly” abilities too?

“Is that why we are leaving so quickly? Because of my supposed amnesia?” You ask.

The Knave shakes her head, “not necessarily. It’s mainly for your safety, you don’t wish to stay in a nation that tried to kill you, right Your Grace?”

You were forced into a corner with that question. Wanting to stay in a nation that almost killed you was bad, but wanting to go to a nation that had the capability to kidnap you wasn’t any better. Yet you had to pick your poison, and in that moment you decided—

“Right.” You reply. “Leaving Fontaine is the smartest option.”

“I knew that you would see it my way,” she praises, “I only want what’s best for you and all of Teyvat.” She gives your hand a squeeze a small smile spreading on her red lips.

A small knock on the door interrupts the moment, Arlecchino looks at the door her gaze becoming icy. “You may enter.”

The door opens and a young lady whose face is obscured by a mask enters and she immediately kneels.

“Y—your Grace… Lady Harbinger.” Her voice was almost breathless, her gaze transfixed on you. “I have news from Fontaine.”

Arlecchino lets out a sigh crossing her legs. “News? What is it?”

“Focalors has agreed to have a political meeting with you. The chief justice Neuvillette will also be attending.”

The Knave doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that spreads on her face, “Very well then. Was there a time mentioned for this meeting?”

“In the next few hours Lady Harbinger. We’ve already got a boat ready to return back to Fontaine’s harbor.”

Arlecchino stands, her gaze becomes soft once more when she looks back at you. “Your Grace, I will return as soon as I can. If you have any needs anyone on the ship will be more than happy to serve you.”

She exchanges a few whispers with the agent before giving you one last smile leaving the bottom deck. The agent looks at you one last time before stuttering out.

“I—I’ll go get your meal immediately Your Grace!” She rushes out of the door leaving you alone once more.

The Fortress of Meropide was more grand than Aether had anticipated. Surrounded by Fontaine’s sea, there was no escape from this prison besides the path they embarked, which was at the rear of the Opera Epiclese.

After heaving their mugshots taken, Aether and Paimon are escorted onto a ship where they meet their tour guide, who is also just another prisoner within the Fortress. The entire tour he was standoffish and dry only giving the required amount of information. If the two asked for more information about credit coupons, secret rules, or about the Creator, he would say they’d have to pay for that.

The prisoner leads the two down the large hallway of the Fortress when multiple gardemeks came around the corner. The traveler immediately takes a stance ready for a fight when a voice eases his worries coming around the corner with the machinery.

“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide,” the man greets. He had dark clothing and dark hair with a scar under his eye.

“Y—your Grace!” The tour guide quickly says, his standoffish nature immediately disappears. “Lovely weather we’re having!”

The man glances over at the tour guide, “Hm? Oh yes, I guess the weather is nice. If we could see it.”

The prisoner lets out an awkward laugh as the Duke looks back at Paimon and Aether. “I’m Wriothesley, but you can call me Your Grace.”

“You’re the Duke of Meropide?” Paimon asks in a shocked tone. Wriothesley nods.

“So, how was your tour?” He asks, “was everything up to standard?”

Aether glances as the tour guide for a moment before giving Wriothesley a firm nod. “Yep. No complaints here.”

“Wonderful.” Wriothesley smiles, “I think we should be able to reward you with more credit coupons then?”

“T—thank you Your Grace! Thank you!” The tour guide says. He then looks over at the traveler, “and thank you for such kind words! If you ever need anything! Anything at all! Please come find me!”

Once he rushes off, the Duke turns his attention back onto the newcomers.

“So, is it normal for you to greet all newbies in person like this?” Paimon asks.

Wriothesley lets out a soft laugh. “No it’s not. I just heard that you two were friends with Neuvillette so I figured I finish the tour myself.”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Aether questions.

“The Fortress might look like it’s cut off from the rest of the world but word still travels fast. Just like what happened to Their Eminence.”

Paimon glances at the traveler briefly. Wriothesley continues, “Many people in the Fortress were ready to leave just for a chance at seeing the Creator. But since they are still in the hospital recovering, I managed to keep them under control.”

“What else do you know about the Creator?” Aether asks.

“Nothing really.” He responds, “I haven’t had the time to leave the Fortress and go visit them myself. Unless you’re talking about the basic information, there’s books all around the Fortress that can tell you that.”

Wriothesley continues on with the tour, showing the where the so-called cafeteria was, the Pankration Ring, and where they would report to work everyday. He also mentions Sigewinne, the nurse who looks after anyone who gets hurt or sick.

Lastly, he shows them where they’ll be sleeping. As he explains the procedures for their room, Aether gazes falls onto someone walking nearby. An oddly familiar magician.

Lyney stops walking and looks back at him, but once Wriothesley notices, Lyney lets out a soft laugh doing a dramatic bow.

“Well hello there Your Grace! It’s lovely to see you out of your office!”

Wriothesley crosses his arms, “it’s good to see you too, but shouldn’t you be reporting to work?”

The magician gives him a cheeky smile as he stands back up, “of course! That’s where I was heading right now! But these two must be very important to get a personal tour from the Duke himself.”

Wriothesley says nothing in response but Lyney quickly excuses himself, his gaze falling onto Aether once more before walking out of sight.

“Come on,” Wriothesley says, “there’s one last stop I’d like to make.”

———

The three sit at one of the tables in the cafeteria, the chef bringing over three welfare meals. They remove the lids revealing the delectable meals inside causing Paimons mouth to water.

“Oh is this what the food is like in the Fortress?” She rubes her hands together, “Paimon could get used to this!”

“Actually, I managed to pull a few strings to get this meal, after today, you might not get another meal like this.”

The fairy didn’t seem to be paying attention as she keeps shoving more food into her mouth. The traveler rolls his eyes at his companion, looking back at the Duke.

“So you said there was books in the Fortress about the Creator?” Aether asks, his fork pushing around his meal mindlessly.

Wriothesley nods. “There are groups within the Fortress to make people feel more welcome or comfortable. There’s quite a few revolved around Their Eminence. Prayer groups, wanting a stronger relationship, or just normal worship in general, they’re actually pretty popular.”

Paimon swallows the food in her mouth, “How do you feel about them?”

Wriothesley ponders for a second, “I don’t know anyone who has a negative view on Their Eminence, including myself. I would be honored to go up to the surface soon and share a cup of tea with them.”

Aether didn’t say anything in response, but he had a feeling that Wriothesley knew more about the Creator than he let on. He did say word travels fast from the surface, is it possible he already knows the Creator is missing?

“Anyways,” Wriothesley says, “I have other things to attend to, enjoy your time in the Fortress and try not to cause any trouble.”

The Duke gives one last farewell, leaving the table without another word. Aether and Paimon continue eating their welfare meals preparing themselves to adjust to their new situation and figure what exactly Childe may know about the Creator.

———

“You were right.”

In a dark corner of the Fortress, the twins from the House of the Hearth spoke in quiet whispers.

“Paimon and the Traveler, I just saw them.” Lyney explained.

Lynette’s ear lay flat on her head, her tail swaying slightly. “Monsieur Neuvillette must’ve told them and they’re here to investigate.”

“We have to do what Father told us to do.“ Lyney adds, “although playing ignorant to figure what they know won’t hurt either.”

Lynette lets out a sigh. “…and what about Tartaglia?”

Lyney shrugs, “what about him? He’s not here. We have to focus on the Creator. Without Their Grace, the Fatui won’t be able to—“

“I know.” Lynette interrupts. “Let’s just focus on the traveler for now.

“I must say, the timing of this meeting seems almost convient…” Arlecchino narrows her gaze as she brings her teacup up to her lips.

“I’ll just cut straight to the chase. I’m here about my colleague, Childe and of course, Their Grace.”

The table inside of Neuvillette’s office was covered in sweets from Snezhnaya, something the Kanve brought to ease the tensions within the meeting. Yet, it doesn’t seem to be working.

“Childe was declared innocent by you, the Iudex, yet was still given a guilty verdict by the Oratrice…” Arlecchino explains, “and only days after that, you declare that Their Grace is an imposter and almost kill them.”

Furina shifts uncomfortably in her seat, “Y-yes… we are aware of our… transgressions. The Creator is being well looked after and is healing quite quickly.”

Arlecchino perks up, “Oh? They are? So is it possible for me to see them for myself?”

“That won’t be possible at the moment, I apologize.” Neuvillette quickly adds in.

Arlecchino brings a forkful of cake up to her mouth as she lets out a scoff. “An outright refusal? I must say, I am surprised…”

Neuvillette crosses his arms, “this meeting wasn’t called to talk about Their Grace, but rather Mr. Tartaglia, correct?”

“That is correct. Then am I able to enter the Fortress to check on the wellbeing of my colleague?”

“That also won’t be possible.”

Arlecchino sighs, “so I cannot see Their Grace and I cannot see Childe. What exactly will this meeting accomplish?”

“We already have a course of action for Their Grace.” Focalors adds, “but we cannot share it with you or any other nations for now. This meeting was just a… common courtesy”

“And as for Mr. Tartaglia I am investigating matter.” The chief justice adds.

“A common courtesy?” The Knave questions, “everyone in Teyvat is wondering just what exactly will Fontaine do after committing the biggest sin known to man… and all you can say is that it’s confidential? Not to mention the prophecy you refuse to address.”

Furina shoves another bite of cake into her mouth, scooting her chair closer to Neuvillette.

“As long as Their Grace is in our nation, they are under our jurisdiction.” Neuvillette explains.

Arlecchino clicks her tongue. “A disappointing outcome indeed… but I cannot say I am shocked.”

Arlecchino finished her tea, “the Fatui is willing to extend our help if you need it. You all seem to have a lot on your plate at the moment. Maybe it’s best to pass some of the responsibility onto someone else?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Neuvillette states.

The Knave stands from her seat, brushing her bangs out of the way, revealing her red X eyes. “I think it’s safe to say this meeting is concluded, I have to return back to Snezhnaya immediately.”

Furina raises a brow, “returing so soon? W—why such a rush to leave?”

It falls silent in the room for a few seconds.

“Her Majesty cares very dearly about the Creator, I am expected to report any and all news directly to her.” Arlecchino explains, her back facing the two.

“Snezhnaya as a whole cares deeply about Their Grace, and once they heal completely we will welcome them with open arms… not a trial.”

Focalors looks down at her lap as Arlecchino leaves the office returning to her ship anchored near the border of Fontaine and Liyue. A sinister smile spread on her lips while Neuvillette and Furina sit in the office in silence, a sour taste lingering in their mouth even with the baked goods in front of them.

-

© avocad1s 2024

Note: Good luck to all my Arlecchino wanters! I got her and her sig weapon so I give all my luck to you <3

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I know it’s been a while so if you want to be removed let me know!!

[rainylana]

“I don’t like the way I look.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

requested by anonymous

summary: your insecurities of your postpartum body finally come out.

warnings: postpartum, insecurities about the readers body, lots of tears, language, angst, eddie cries. i’m not a mother nor have i ever been pregnant, so i hope i did this justice.

You were one of those people who were extremely confident in their looks. You knew you were hot. You had hair girls were jealous of, and a figure, too. You had beautiful green eyes that looked gold in the sun. Pale skin that made your jaw line sharp and features prominent.

Eddie liked having you that way. He loved your confidence and everything about you. However the day you had your baby, it all changed. The nine months of pregnancy went by smoothly. You’d obviously put on an enormous amount of baby weight, but you had assumed you’d drop it once the baby was born. You weren’t, and no matter how little food you ate or how much exercise you did, you couldn’t get it off. Besides, you didn’t have time to really put in the work for dieting, not healthily, anyways. Not with a baby.

You loved your daughter. There was no question in that, but you couldn’t admit it to yourself, or anyone, that you now hated how you looked. You had a pouch in your belly that you’d never had before, the skin on your sides had turned to love handles, your legs still stolen. You cried yourself to sleep so many times during the night, watching your daughter sleep. Little Patricia Munson. Patty.

You were good at hiding it. Eddie had no suspicion of your struggles. Nobody did. Only you and the mirror.

Motherhood suited you. To Eddie and your friends, you were glowing. You were so good with your baby. You knew how to get her to calm down, to sleep peacefully through the night. Having a child was a new kind of love you never thought one person was capable of feeling. Eddie loved watching you with her, the way you held her and sang to her. He was absolutely mesmerized when you breastfed her.

You looked like you could do it all with a crown on top of your head, and nobody knew just how badly you were feeling.

Tonight was a particularly bad night and you had no idea why. You were sat in the rocking chair of Patty’s nursery, holding her in your arms and softly patting her. She’d been asleep for quiet some time, but you weren’t ready to put her down. It was almost one in the morning, and you knew Eddie would wake up soon and wonder where you were.

The room was dark, besides the Winnie the Pooh nightlight that illuminated an orange glow around the room, plastic stars stuck up on the ceiling for extra light.

You were humming lightly, your finger sweeping over her swirl of dark hair. She was only seven weeks old, and every day she looked more and more like Eddie. You didn’t think it was exactly fair, considering you were the one who carried her for nine months, but you couldn’t deny how cute it was having a mini Eddie in your arms.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your voice breaking mid hum at the disapproving picture you received. Your face used to be so slim. And though it hadn’t changed dramatically as the rest of your body, you missed it what everything used to look like. You knew you should love your body, considering what it did to make little Patty, but you feared what Eddie thought of you now.

Sex with him hadn’t faltered or was forgotten. On the contrary. It had done nothing but flourish since you had your baby, but have the time you had to force yourself to cum, thinking nothing about the pleasure and only if he was judging you the way you judged yourself.

Soon enough, you heard the bed squeak in the other room and his feet hit the floor. You sniffled, wiping your stray tear quickly before he could find you.

His head of dark curls, white shirt and boxers decorating his body came wondering in the room, smiling sleepily when he quietly came over to you. You smiled up at him, puckering your lips for a kiss. He kissed you, then bent down to give his baby girl a soft kiss on the forehead. He tapped her little nose and grinned, chuckling softly.

You knew what he was thinking. I can’t believe she’s mine. You smiled, too.

He stifled a yawn and brought over the other rocking chair and sat in front of you, leaning back so he could get comfortable. “I’ll sit with her for awhile, darlin’. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“No.” You shook your head, smiling at him briefly. “I can’t sleep, anyways.”

Eddie thought this was when you were the most beautiful, holding his baby. You were both his babies. “I can’t believe she’s ours sometimes.” He admitted tiredly, trying to wake himself up. “I never thought I could love someone so small so much.”

“I know.” You nodded. “It’s scary sometimes.”

It was. Loving someone so much. You knew your life would be over if anything were to ever happen to her.

“I’d do anything for her.” Eddie said, his curls a pillow between his head and the wood of the rocking chair as he lay back comfortably watching the two of you.

“I know.” You said once again, full of emotion. You didn’t want to cry, but hearing Eddie talk about how much he loved her got you emotional, especially because you wondered if he loved you as much as he used to. “Me too.” A lone tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek and dropping onto your bare knee. It was so quick you hoped he hadn’t noticed it. You were wrong.

“Hey,” Eddie perked up. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” You sighed heavily. “I’m alright.”

“But you’re cryin’, angel.” He frowned, sitting up in his seat to lean over closer. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You gave a firm nod, but your voice broke, betraying what you had just said.

He gave you a look before glancing down at your daughter. “I think you’re tired, honey. Why don’t you-”

“I’m not tired.” You said firmly, looking up to him with glassy eyes. “I just want to be alone.”

He chalked it up to your hormones being out of control and nodded, offering a quiet ‘alright’ as he shut the nursery door behind him. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a hushed sob, bringing Patty closer to your chest. You laid your head against her’s, giving her a crying kiss. She barely even stirred.

You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were, because Eddie was back within seconds, coming to squat down beside you and gently take the baby from your arms. He shushed her softly and placed her down in her crib before turning back to find you missing.

He found you outside on the porch, sobbing like you had a broken heart, arms crossed and holding your body like you’d break at any second. It was starting to sprinkle, but you didn’t care. You knew if you woke up Patty this late it would take you forever to get her back to sleep.

“Baby,” Eddie said sadly, coming up behind you. “What’s got you so upset?” He didn’t touch you, a hand only ghosting the fabric that covered your back.

“I’m fine.” You said through sobs, the air cold and bitter against your skin. You only had on a long t-shirt, but the trailer court had all turned in for the night. “Go back to bed.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not without you.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, wishing he could leave your pity party for you and you only. He wouldn’t understand how you were feeling, and worst off, maybe your fears were true. You didn’t want to know the truth. Did he still find you attractive? Did he still enjoy sex? Did he still love you as much even though you weren’t skinny?

“Eddie, please,” You turned around, tears running down your face, red and blotchy. “Go back to bed.”

He stared at you, frowning and brows knitted in concern. “You know I can’t do that. We made a promise, remember?”

Damn it. He always threw down that card.

After vecna, you both were broken shells of what you once used to be. Everyone was. You made him promise you he wouldn’t shut down. He had to talk when his heart was aching, and in return, you promised the same. You promised to talk when your heart ached, and right now, it was.

You sighed, nodding softly. You did remember, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. You quickly turned around to hide your fresh set of tears, biting your tongue. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It might make you feel better.” He moved to stand directly beside you, leaning against the wood railing that was growing damp from the light rain. “Please, honey. Talk to me.”

You sniffled and looked away from his stare. “I’m scared of what you’ll say. I don’t know if I want the answer.”

“Answer to what?” He said confused. “Baby- just tell me, okay? I promise whatever it is, it’ll work itself out.”

But would it? Would you ever be as beautiful as you used to be? Would you ever be skinny, never have to worry about what you ate? That’s all you thought of now, worrying about what you put in your mouth. You were petrified of gaining more weight.

“I don’t like the way I look.” You finally said crying, looking over at him. “There, okay? I don’t like the way I look. I look in the mirror and I’m just disgusted with what I see.”

His eyes were wide. You had shocked him. His brows were creased and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“I love Patty.” You sobbed. “But I hate what being pregnant did to me and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. I’m not beautiful anymore and I miss it.” Your voice broke deeply, crackling like tv static that couldn’t get a proper signal. “I don’t feel pretty for you and I’m scared that you think it too.”

“Okay, wait,” He’d heard enough, speaking quickly as he straightened himself taller. “I don’t- y/n, you’re talkin’ crazy.”

“Am I?” You retorted. “Because the mirror doesn’t lie, Eddie.” You stood your ground. You were right and Eddie wasn’t going to sweet talk you out of the truth. Facts were facts. “I’m not beautiful anymore and you know it. Stop lying to me!”

“Y/n, what the hell-” He backed away. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I’ve never said anything like that to you ever. Where is all of this coming from?” He shook his head in absolute disbelief, trying to be calm and rational to understand where you were coming from. A part of him wondered if it was just a hormonal, postpartum outburst, but your tears and attitude told him otherwise.

“You didn’t!” You snapped. “But you don’t have to. I know. I look at myself in the mirror every day and wonder if you’re attracted to me anymore. I don’t look like how I used to.” You were bawling, snot leaking from your nose and eyes bloodshot red. Your hair was starting to get wet from the rain.

“Why the fuck does that matter?” Eddie argued back, his sense of cool becoming too hard to handle. He couldn’t stand to hear you talk so negatively about yourself. “You are you and it doesn’t matter what you look like. You just had a baby, sweetheart. You’re obviously not going to loose all the weight overnight. You’re being too hard on yourself.” He tried to speak soothingly to calm your cries, his hands holding your elbows, head dipping down like he was speaking to a child.

“And even if you don’t,” He continued. “I’m going to love you just the way you are because you’re the mother of my child.” His hands went up to your shoulders. “You gave me the greatest gift of my life, darlin’,” To your surprise, his eyes teared up.

“Please,” He pulled you in to hold you. “Don’t think like that, baby, please. I can’t bear to hear you talk like that.” His voice broke, a guilt sinking into your heart that made you feel foolish.

“I’m sorry.” You rushed, wrapping your hands around his back. “I’m sorry.” You found yourself saying, desperate to keep him from crying.

You realized then, how wrong you were. Because if he thought the things you thought of yourself, he wouldn’t be out here in the rain with you, holding you close, crying, over what you had said. You realized then, just how much he loved you.

[dqrciedaily]

baby arsenal headcannons, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: i am so so so sorry that this isn’t an actual fic but i’ve left yous without anything for like two weeks so take this 🥰🥰🥰

warning - this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes x

-

1. she is maths no.1 public enemy - literally will stare at her homework for two hours instead of actually trying it. then the next day at school she gets in trouble for not doing it but she genuinely couldn’t care less because she’d rather have them email lia than try do trigonometry

2. her tiktok reposts and twitter likes have fans speculating like there is no tomorrow - she’s definitely liked transfer rumours on twitter before as well as reposting things she shouldn’t be and she reposts things that happened way back way but people think it’s about her current situation, leading to some very concerned fans in her tiktok comments and instagram requests.

3. baby girl has stina and laura wrapped around her finger - she’s cold? stina’s gonna give her the jumper she’s wearing. she’s hungry? laura’s up to make her something to eat, even though maus is perfectly capable of doing it herself. they’re basically on her beck and call.

4. she always curses out players in german on the pitch - when she was younger her brothers taught her the art of cursing people out in german then speaking in english to confuse them. however this did not work when arsenal played chelsea and she went flying after a tackle from nüsken, who very obviously understands german, leading to maus getting a yellow.

5. which leads to the next point which is that she gets her fair share of yellows - giving katie a run for her money, although most of hers come from back chatting the ref and not from actual gameplay, although she isn’t afraid to put in a heavy tackle here and there.

6. her + kyra = little shits on steroids - on the first media day of the season they decided to put y/n and kyra in three of the same interviews, let’s just say absolutely nothing productive happened until caitlin had to come in to do an interview with the two of them.

7. she’s lia’s no.1 reason for her early gray hairs - firstly maus is awful at answering phone calls, so if she’s out with her friends and lia needs something best believe she cannot contact her. secondly the amount of emails the school sends her may send lia into overdrive, she genuinely couldn’t care less if y/n didn’t do her homework as long as she’s passing all her classes, which she is (besides math but lia doesn’t need to know that.)

8. y/n has the best outfits - her instagram feed is filled with mirror pics of her outfits and they’re all just so good!!! she’s known for her fashionable clothes throughout the woso community.

9. she gets really really really nervous when doing interviews by herself - she already refuses to do orals in school because they stress her out too much, so after her first full 90 for arsenal she gets called to do an interview and poor girl is swaying from side to side the entire time, stumbling over her words and overall looking like a deer caught in headlights.

10. the first time she brings a girl or boy home lia gets a group of the girls to pretend they’re over for dinner without telling y/n - so then when y/n gets home she sees most of her teammates there and very hastily shoves her ‘friend’ upstairs, before going over to the girls who all tease her. then when she’s upstairs in her room with her ‘friend’ they all take turns coming upstairs to walk past the closed door to hear what they’re talking about.

11. she is a hugger of note - the first time she meant all the girls minus her shy demeanour she hugged every single teammate she met. she is also a massive cuddler, on the team bus she makes ours sit in the window seat (much to the brunettes complains) then uses kyra as a pillow which 1. forces kyra to be quiet because she doesn’t want to wake y/n and 2. she can’t move around the bus as she wants deciding to annoy everyone which the other girls are very thankful for.

12. her first crush on a girl was laura freigang, who she had seen around the german youth camps before - she even told her parents at one stage that she was going to go to penn state just like lau did but that phase was short lived when she then developed a crush on one of her teammates in her age group instead.

13. in another life she’s a dj who lives in ibiza - literally no explanation needed, she truly is a party animal at heart and would go to all the festivals and raves possible during the off season.

[sunnyswide]

Murderer POLY 141 🔪 x Oblivious Female Reader

NSFW/MDNI (sexual activities and sexual themes)

Instead of military.. Why not just a bunch of fucking murders.

To you, it seemed so odd that they would show up at the most convenient of times. Nonetheless, you were mighty grateful for the help. For the quick fix-up on your car. The multitude of groceries you had. The short-lived stalker you never heard from again. The drunken who suddenly approached you late at dusk, but also got taken care of quite swiftly. The fruitful amount of cash that was hidden under piles of junk in the drawer. They were a bit tinted with red… Chalking that up to “Oh I must have put that there” even though you had no recollection.

But to them, it was all fun and games. Who'd be first caught or who'd be the last one standing?

Gaz was just so kind, inviting you to every opportunity for tea or snack breaks. You’re surprised when he tells you he lives at the complete opposite side of town.

“Thats an hour away Gaz! Isn't it exhausting?”

“Not at all, I have work here.”

He lies theough his teeth but hey? Isn't it all lies around here. As long as your adorable mind doesn't realize.. It won't hurt. Just like the many times he takes you to where he resides, eyes staring at the two of you.

Course you’re scared, but he promises it's because they’re not too keen with visitors. Not realizing the multitude of people don't seem to be glaring at you. But at him.

You don't ask questions and go along with it. Letting him lead you to his apartment that seemed to be barely lived in.. But it doesn't matter after he Fucks those pretty thoughts out of your mind. Making you see stars as he finishes inside of you for the third time.

But Price isn't that open. He keeps the conversation entertaining but reveals absolutely nothing about himself as he listens to you talk.

He loves the expressions you make, your lips pouting when you talk about the scary days you had over the week because of some weird stalker.

“I promise! There is someone following me!”

“Then why don’t you let me take you home”

He walks you home every night the two of you go out. The one day he doesn't, you swear you could hear an extra pair of footsteps. Looking around deliriously you opt for a run instead, going through alleyways and shortcuts. Until you accidentally bump into someone, causing you to trip over your feet.

“Gah! Sorry!”

You look up to see Price! He looked shocked at first but soon composed himself, taking your hand in his.

“Dont be sorry”

He smiles gently, kissing the top of your forehead while you burst into soft sobs. You swear you saw something.. Or someone else behind him. On the floor? Maybe it was your imagination..

He takes you home but you beg him to stay the night.

“Can you stay?..”

He holds you tight, pressing his fingers deeper into your hips. This only leads to an excuse to fuck you on his cock as an “apology” for scaring you. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he overstimulates your dripping cunt, making you cockwarm him even after cumming.

But after meeting Ghost and Soap, the perfect self-proclajmed duo, you couldn’t help but find yourself attracted. They were a mix of dark humor and wholesome dad jokes.

They invite you for a quick drink as friends. Friends that sit too close to each other.. Ghost insisting you sit in the middle as Soap drapes an arm around your waist, pouring you more and more Alcohol you didn’t want to drink.

Sooner or later the “fun” was coming to an end as you try to stand up, toppling over Ghost’s lap. They chuckle at your vulnerable state, taking it up as a reason to carry you back home. Of course this attracting other drunken dudes to come up to them asking them where they think they’re going.

“Cmoonnnn, We can all have a piece of that”

Soap smirks.. He was damn happy they even asked.

“Why not gentlemen”

But you didn't see what happened after as Ghost drove you back to his place with Soap after the quick charade. Soap smelled a bit.. Odd.. His hands covered in a.. Red substance.

“Just wine luv”

A few minutes later you sobered up quite quickly, surprised even though you drank so much. But hey no hangover!

And as a thank you they happily ate you out. Getting Fucked by both of them at once felt.. Ruthless. Your clit brimmed with overstimulation as Simon rubbed circles over it and your mouth forced wide open as Soap shoved his shaft deeper and deeper.

You sobbed quietly into the pillow as Soap rammed his Dick into your sopping cunt, relieved for the pounding to stop until Ghost took his time teasing your entrance. Making you gasp..

“Fu..ck.. Wai-wait”

Begging? Uselsss.

He didn't mind you screaming for him to stop. Overestimation turned into torture for your pussy. Brutilized after just one night, you’d had to come back to them for more right?

But it wasn't much of your choice to come back.

Part two

[wosoamazing]

Brunch w/ Steph & Beth

Part 2 - Fire on Fire Series

From Beth: Good Morning, I know this is late notice and you might be socialised out from last night and probably have things to unpack but we were wondering if you wanted to have brunch with us this morning. I think Steph might join us too if that is okay.

To Beth: Good Morning, that would be nice, could you maybe just come to mine again if that is okay. There are some tradies coming over this morning and so I have to be here from when they get here where I don't know when that will be. I'm up and ready now so any time would work, I could cook something for you all.

From Beth: Oh no, don't be silly, Steph will pick something up from one of the local bakeries on her way over to ours. And then we will come to yours. Any dietary requirements?

To Beth: No, all good and thank you. See you soon.

You looked at the plans your aunts had lying out on the tablet for the workers when they got here, they were turning the theatre room into a home gym/entertainment space, your Moster claiming they decided they needed to be healthier but you knew it way there way of trying to make their home more inviting for you now you were older and keeping you there.

From Beth: Hi again, Steph just arrived, Viv has gone out and so I was just wondering if I could bring Myle our puppy with us, but I understand if it's not okay just thought to ask.

To Beth: Um.. normally I would say yes but I don't exactly know if Myle could come over if the workers will be here. I'm so sorry.

From Beth: No problem at all, we are just about to head to yours now.

You were still going through the look book, viewing all the products your Aunts were putting in both rooms when the doorbell rang, you swiftly moved towards it. You were surprised when you saw Steph and Beth standing in front of the now open door, you thought it would be the builders, they had only just left Beth's house "How are you already here?" "We actually live two streets over so it isn't far at all," you gestured for the two Women to come in.

"Um, we can sit on the couch or the table, I'll just clean all this up," "knock, knock, knock," you heard a man say from the door, turning around to see the builders.

"Oh, um just one second sorry girls, I just need to show them some things," they both nodded saying something along the lines of don't worry, and you quickly showed the builders the theatre and the plans and look book. They had already been given an in depth brief from your Aunt's so it didn't take long.

"I'm so sorry, they are just here to do some work," "Oh no it's totally fine don't worry," The women said as they followed you into the living room.

"I do have a question though," Steph said as you were grabbing some plates, "mmm" "How did you manage to get a place like this?"

"Oh, this isn't mine, it's my Aunt's, they are away for like the next 2 months in Paris, my Aunt is from there." Steph nodded as Beth was looking around at some pictures.

"Is this you or..." She said as she looked at a photo from one of your school events, "yeah it's me, they are all of me," you replied.

"Wow, that's insane, I think there are more photos of you in their house than the amount of photos my parents have of my brother and I in our home. Did you see them a lot?" She asked, meaning no harm, you knew the question would come eventually, you just didn't think it would be so soon.

"Um, yeah, I guess you could put it that way, this is technically my childhood home. When I moved out of my parents home I moved into this home with my Aunts, but we were only here for around 6 months before we moved to Australia. So technically the home we have in Melbourne is my childhood home but as this was well I guess is, the main home all the photos and trophies and everything else got moved into this house,"

"Oh, why did you move out of your parents home? Sorry that sounded a bit insensitive, you don't have to answer," "Oh no, it's okay I don't mind, I-" you were interrupted by another person at the door, they handed you a massive bouquet of flowers and as you brought them into the house and set them on the coffee room table, both girls looked at them.

"Wow, secret admirer, Leah is going all out," Beth cheeked as you looked at the gift tag, letting out a knowing sigh as you read the names.

"Of course, giving me somewhere to stay and building me a gym with some entertainment stuff too isn't enough," you lean back on the couch, before looking over to Beth.

"Wait, what did you say that about Leah? Do you think she likes me?" You asked curiously.

"By the way she looked at you when you walked into the locker room, I would say she has a crush on you" she said quite seriously, you let out a small 'oh' and both of them looked at each other, before continuing on with the conversation, changing topics.

[braxix]

Galadriel definitely pulls the "I'm older than the sun and the moon" card and everyone else hates it.

Elrond loves to pull the "In some sense the sun and the moon are my distant cousins" back at her and it sends everyone younger than him into a state of shock every time, they hate it.

Celeborn would pull the "My great uncle was the king" card if it wouldn't make people realize he could be in line for the throne. He's seen the amount of work Galadriel and Elrond put into not having to be queen or king and he isn't risking it. He's staying out of this.

Cirdan is older than all of them, but just wants to go to Valinor so he stays out of their way. He also has the "older than the sun and moon" card, but he also has the "I'm only here cause I'm loyal" card, no one knows who he's loyal to anymore so it worries them greatly when he pulls that card out.

Gandalf tries to hide his cards behind a smoke screen, but the previous four already know what his cards are. It's not hard to figure out, he declared all of his intentions upfront when he got to these shores.

Saruman has his cards up his sleeves and lies about everything. No one believes him anymore except Gandalf.

[hellonearthtoday]

outsiders red dead AU I'm actually crazy about

here's johnny and pony in the au I literally beamed my vision onto my screen like no one's business. anyway AU rambling in the undercut. if you even care

OOOOKAY I'm seriously crazy about this. I need whoever's reading this to LOCK in. Gangs in red dead are just that, but the difference between theeir 1960s counterparts is that they're far less restricted. Because it's the 1800s.

There's a variety of gangs, but the Curtis gang are tighter knit and don't just let anyone join. And by that I mean they haven't opened applications in like 1 gazillion years because they all met when they were young so they're locked in 4 lyfe and don't really trust anyone else because it's actually crazy out here. everyone and their mama has a gun it's like 10x more dangerous to trust the wrong mf also because it's literally the 1800s everybody is wilding

Shepard's gang is also real here and they're a lot more fucked up and evil than Curtis's, but they're also just a lot, lot bigger and have a lot more mouths to feed.

misc facts I don't care to weave into something comprehensible:

- the gang forces Pony to wear his bandana near constantly because he's like the one member of the gang that doesn't have metaphorical chains around their wrists locking them into being an outlaw until they die

- Ponyboy and Johnny's horses, while more drawn to their owners, trust PB and Johnny an equal amount which means they can just switch horses whenever. It's free horse. The rest of the gangs horses are more accustomed to their one rider. Dallys' hates literally everyone. Even Dally. but he's a really good horse to have in a shootout, and Dally likes him.

- Soda loves his horse so bad and he refuses to take him on any real dangerous expeditions. He rides with Darry and his shire horse in those events

- Soda's horse is also the most pampered. And Extremely spoiled

- Two-bits horse has tried to eat his hat on more than five occasions

- Even though they seldom ever have access to one, Steve is a FREAK about automobiles. They're pretty new to the region but if there's ever a chance to get ahold of one in a heist Steve is risking it all to get his hands on one. Even if they don't keep it for long (because it's kind of inefficient in their situation) Steve just likes taking them apart and putting them back together

- Steve's horse hates anything with wheels. inconsolable

- Steve has to ride several paces ahead or behind whenever they're traveling with a wagon because of this. He tried getting another horse at one point, but Idiot (Accidentally named) the Horse wouldn't leave him alone and no other horse liked him.

- Ponyboy used to want to participate in more of the gangs work, but as he got older, the less it appealed to him. Even if he was raised on it

-The Curtis parents unfortunately died a little earlier in this. Darry was seventeen.

[rafesfavgirl]

i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back,  i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart.  "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[sweetarethediscords]

The Maiden of The Barren Rime

Winter Wind blows through the valley, pushes us into our homes.

Pleading she knocks at our windows, scorned she continues to roam.

Chapter 1: The Brambled Beauty

Mina quieted at the sound of unfamiliar voices on the wind.

“Are you sure this is the right cabin?” It was a feminine voice, on the younger side, with a slight Tinian accent, most likely from the North Coast judging from the way they dragged the “er” in “sure.”

“Of course this is the right cabin! It’s the only cabin in this damned forest!” A masculine voice spat back. Staunchly Lanholdian, Mina could almost feel the thick tension in their tongue behind her own teeth. The gravel of age and annoyance ground up from the back of their throat.

Mina picked up her pace, leaping up into the treetops, crossing miles in minutes towards the voices with no more sound than the rustle of wind through pine needles.

She stilled. The branch beneath her feet barely creaked.

They were outside her cabin. A young woman with thick glasses and even thicker curly hair checked the compass in her hand as the short, sturdy man beside her impatiently tapped his foot and picked at the split ends of his long, braided beard.

Mina placed a hand on the hilt of her sword as she watched them through the canopy. The man’s leather armor bore a crest depicting a mountain top and three diamonds, with glinting, well-polished stripes on his pauldron pronouncing his rank. Seven; a general of lauded stature. Why he traveled with the young woman was unclear.

She was clearly not a noble. The slight roll forward of her shoulders, the patterned bandanna holding her hair out of her eyes too weathered or wrinkled for even a disguised royal to wear, and a decent soldier would never keep their guard down as much as hers was in an unfamiliar place. Perhaps she had hired the knight as security on her journey.

A journey Mina would take no part in.

She shifted to sit easily and silently, making sure not to catch the beaver skins hanging from her pack beneath her. A few more minutes and they would leave, then she could prep the skins and start to smoke the meat in her satchel as planned.

“Well,” the woman stuffed her compass into her jacket pocket. “At least it’s a nice day out to wait. Sun’s still warm enough to cut the edge off the autumn chill.”

Annoyingly, she made her way to the porch of Mina’s cabin and took a seat on its rough wooden steps. Mina ground her teeth slightly. Maybe a splinter or two would poke her through her patchwork skirt and urge her away.

The man huffed and kicked at a tuft of crabgrass. “You think this chill has an edge? Just wait until you’re on the Peaks.” The tuft came loose, sending dirt and now homeless pill bugs scattering. “If we ever get to the fucking Peaks.”

Dammit, Mina thought. They were here for an expedition.

“Ya know, we could always go with another alpinist,” the woman offered. “Beto Lamar’s homestead is about a day’s ride west from here.”

“A day’s ride but three weeks past our deadline,” the man said. “This girl can bring us back to Lanholde in under a month.” He stomped over and stood on the steps, too proud to sit, but not proud enough to not lean on the railing for support. “She will get us there in a month.”

“Even if she’s already off on an expedition?”

“She’s not,” the man gestured over his shoulder. “The windows are open. And this cabin is too well maintained for its owner to just head off for two months with the windows left open.”

Mina thudded her head against the tree trunk. Of course. An observant and stubborn knight.

She inhaled deeply, held it, then exhaled, taking her frustration down a little, unclenching her jaw just a touch. She'd piss them off enough that they’d rather stand Lamar’s extra three weeks in the cold than put up with her, and if that didn’t work, ask for a ridiculous amount of gold to scare them off.

Three more weeks in the cold. Three more weeks to die. The unwilling thought made her teeth ache.

She climbed down from the pine she had perched in and moved soundlessly towards the drying rack staked beside her cabin. She removed one of the rungs filled with beaver skins from her pack. A loud and forceful snap echoed through the woods as she dropped it into place.

The trespassing pair jumped. The knight drew his sword as the woman bladed her feet into a wide stance, arms lifted, ready to perform some sort of cast.

So they were a magic wielder and a knight.

“Get off the porch,” Mina stated bluntly as she hung another rack.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the knight’s jaw fall agape while the woman’s disposition relaxed. She straightened up out of her fighting stance, and Mina caught the faint sound of a cork squeaking back into a bottle on the wind.

“My apologies, miss. We’re looking for the alpinist that lives here,” she said. “Would that be you?”

“No,” Mina lied. “I’m a hunter. The alpinist lives to the west.”

The woman arched an eyebrow and looked to the knight. He flared his nostrils, puffed out his chest, and stomped over towards her.

“I am Sir Murmir Gargic, general-rank knight of the Lanholde Royal Army, proud servant to King Fritz Reinhardt.”

“Never heard of him,” she lied again.

The knight sputtered, whatever bullshit speech he had prepared dying on his tongue. “You never—”

“Sir Gargic,” the woman whispered behind him, calling his attention and allowing him a moment to regain his composure.

Annoying.

“Well, he’s heard of you, and has specifically recommended that we seek you out to lead us up the Fallow Peaks. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, so if you don’t mind talking terms so we can start the expedition today—”

“If that’s the case, then I guess your king expects you both to die,” Mina droned, mono-toned and matter-of-factly. “I’m a hunter, not an alpinist.”

The knight’s breathing shallowed as her jab at his ruler crawled under his skin. He inhaled deeply, a tirade building, when the woman placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How much would it cost for you to be an alpinist?” she asked.

Mina drifted her dull gaze over towards the woman, finding her with a smirk on her lips and a knowing glint in her eye.

“Seven thousand gilt one way,” she answered. “The real alpinist to the west charges half that.”

“I’m sure.” The woman shrugged. “But the alpinist we’re looking for fits your description exactly. Female alpinist. Rough around the edges. Lives alone in a cabin deep in the Sandere Woods, five hundred paces off of the last bend in Woodgullet Road, heading northeast.” She rattled off the details as if she were reading them off a sheet of paper.

Mina blinked slowly, then repeated. “Seven thousand gilt one way.”

“Deal.”

Gods fucking dammit. An unfortunately familiar tug pulled at her spine.

Sir Gargic fished out a scroll from one of the pouches on his belt, while the woman brandished a quill and a bottle of ink. He scrawled something down on it, then turned the parchment in her direction: a contract of duty.

His thick, stubby finger pointed at the 7,000g written next to the terms of payment. “Seven-thousand gilt to be delivered direct from the Capitol’s treasury upon our safe arrival.” His finger traveled down the page to a long signature line. “All you need to do is sign here.”

She did, reluctantly. Her arm dragged by that damned tug.

“Mina,” the woman read her name aloud, standing on the tips of her toes to watch as she wrote it. “I’m Wera Alrust.”

Mina snapped the quill once she finished, dropped it to the ground, and headed into her cabin.

“Where are you going?” Sir Gargic barked behind her. “You’re under contract to—”

“Packing,” Mina answered. “Can’t climb a ten-thousand-foot cliff face with just a bow, a sword, and a can-do attitude.” She paused in the doorway. “Just two going up?”

“Five,” Wera answered. “Six if you count yourself.”

“I don’t.”

Last-minute trips up the Fallow Peaks were nothing new to Mina, as much as she loathed them. They were always inconvenient and pressing, which meant the travelers were stressed and distracted — which meant the death count was usually higher than the average one or two losses. Expeditions such as this were few and far between, at least. Most travelers knew to prepare well in advance for the perilous journey, contracting her months ahead of time instead of minutes.

She closed all the windows and locked the shutters, made sure her books and sheet music were lifted off the ground in case the fall rains caused the lake to flood, and tucked the more expensive of her instruments away as she filled the pack she kept by the door.

“Flint, whytewing leathers, tarp, rations, climbing axes…” she muttered to herself as she rifled through it — taking stock to make sure she had everything she needed — then picked up a fiddle and bow leaning against a hard wooden chair. She loosened up the strings a bit and unstrung the bow to keep the horse hairs from snapping, then shoved it in with the rest of her gear.

“Where are the other three?” she asked as she stepped back outside and locked the door.

“Back on the road, waiting with the wagon,” Wera replied.

“You can’t take a wagon up a mountain.”

“We don’t plan to.” She was, frustratingly, smiling at Mina when she turned around. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

Sir Gargic headed off, impatience and frustration bringing out the ill-manner child in him. With such thin skin, it wouldn’t be long before he broke their contract, or he died. Rabbet’s Pass most likely, which would be convenient. She could leave his corpse in the caves there, and they wouldn’t have too far of a walk back to Sandere afterwards.

After only a few wrong turns through the thick wood, the seldom-used road emerged. A simple covered wagon pulled off to the side let the four horses that drove it graze lazily, while two more members of their party hung around it: an old woman with her hair up in a tight bun, sitting on the ground making daisy chains out of dandelions, and a young man with a sharp haircut and a well-coiffed mustache scrawling in a notebook as he sat in the driver’s seat.

Sir Gargic’s spine straightened and chest puffed out as he put on a bit of bravado. “We’ve returned!” he cried, waving grandly.

The old woman and mustached man looked up from their work. The woman abandoned her dandelions and stood to meet them, while the young man looked them over and flipped to another page in his book; quill taking off in a fury.

“Ah! Are you the young lady who will be guiding us?” The old woman smiled sweetly. “My name’s Tanir and the boy on the cart is Enoch.” She turned over her shoulder and hollered, “Wave hello, Enoch!”

Enoch raised his hand partially, too engrossed in whatever he was writing to look away.

“Mina.” Mina met Tanir’s gaze, and the old woman’s brow furrowed. She was looking for the appropriate response, a sign of expression to source Mina’s first impression of her. Mina watched her bottom lip shift subtly, a minuscule pucker as her teeth bit behind it uneased to find nothing.  

Annoy the knight. Unnerve the old woman. Now she just had to find the others’ weaknesses.

“You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road. They’ll slow us down and will be hunted by the beasts of the Harrow.”

“Oh, uh—” Tanir swallowed. “That sounds like something you should discuss with Master Windenhofer. I’ll go get him for you.” She flashed another smile, this one fueled by nerves, and hurried off into the back of the wagon.

Enoch snapped his notebook shut and leaned over the side of the driver’s seat. He rested his chin on his hand dramatically, abandoning the fierce focus he held when writing to gaze at Mina with puppy dog eyes. “Did you know you are extremely beautiful for an alpinist?”

Sir Gargic sputtered with embarrassment. Wera shot Enoch a disgusted look.

Mina stared at him blankly.

“I know,” she said after a moment.

Enoch choked on his spit at her response. Wera burst out into a fit of laughter, drawing Mina’s attention.

Laughter wasn’t a response she was used to receiving.

“Don’t forget to write that one down,” Wera wheezed through her giggles. “‘My attempts at flirtation failed tremendously as usual.’ A good archivist doesn’t leave out any details!”

“Enough of that, Enoch!” Sir Gargic snipped, hitting him on the arm. “She comes highly recommended by The Crown of Lanholde, and you will address her with the respect that such a recommendation warrants!”

“S-sorry, M-mina,” Enoch stammered, still caught off guard by her curtness as he leaned back away from her, rubbing his injured arm.

“I hear we have a new face joining our motley crew!” a warm, deep voice cheered from inside the wagon. The cart bounced as a tall, lean man, with a wide smile and a thick shag haircut, stepped out of it, Tanir following behind.

“Hello, I am Sebastian Windenhofer. It is wonderful to meet you!” the man extended his hand out in greeting.

A soft breeze blew between them as Mina considered his outstretched hand. His fingers were long, as to be expected of someone of his height, and his palms were oddly covered with an even layer of callous.

She did not shake it.

“Mina,” she said to the hand, in the same bland manner that she had introduced herself to everyone else.

Sebastian seemed unbothered by his spurned handshake, and instead clasped his hands together and nodded his head softly, “Mina.” There was a slight hum to the ‘M’ as he said it. “Tanir mentioned that you wished to speak to me about something regarding the horses?”

Mina’s distant stare met his attentive gaze. Sebastian didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“The woods are too thick for a wagon to fit through, and the mountains are too steep,” she answered. “The Harrowed Woods that border Sandere and the Peaks are filled with hungry monsters who will be lured by the thought of a four-course horse meal, too.”

“I see.” Sebastian brought his hand up and tapped his fingertips lightly against his lips as he thought. “Would it be better for the horses if we left the wagon and let them loose now as opposed to when we get closer?”

Mina paused, and tilted her head to the side, caught off guard by his question.

“Have I spoken out of turn?” his voice wavered.

“No, it’s just that I’ve never had someone ask to let the horses out early,” she replied, much more candidly than she intended. She straightened her head, collecting herself. “There’d be less chance of them being attacked. Not many monsters here in these woods.”

“That settles it, then.” Sebastian addressed his crew, “Gather your belongings, we will be continuing on foot from here. Wera and Sir Gargic, unhitch the horses and send them back down the road, please.”

“Ugh, my penmanship gets so poor when we’re walking,” Enoch groaned as he slid down from the driver’s seat.

“Guess you’ll have to save your sonnets for when we’re in Lanholde,” Wera remarked as she started unbuckling one of the horse’s bridles. “We’ve got nothing but walking ahead of us now.”

Sebastian returned his attention to Mina. “It should only take us a few minutes to get packed up. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” He reached inside his overcoat and pulled out a tea kettle and mug. Twirling the mug around his finger by its handle, he juggled the kettle with one hand and caught it by its base. Steam rose from its spout.

Not just a magic user. He was a wizard, capable enough to demonstrate his talents so casually.

Or cocky enough to make a big show over the few skills he did have.

“No,” Mina replied, tapping the canteen attached to her belt. “I have a canteen.”

She could have just left it at ‘no’.

“Of course.” He threw the tea set into the air as if he were throwing away a piece of paper over his shoulder and with a snap of his fingers they vanished.

Definitely a show-off.

“I have a few things to pack myself if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, smiling again, still wide as it shifted to a slightly different shape, then headed back into the covered wagon.

Mina watched him walk away.

If he wasn’t just a show-off, then maybe they’d make it a mile past Rabbet’s Pass.

🜁

“So, Mina, would you care to tell us a little about yourself?” Sebastian asked as they walked up the rest of the road. Considering how chatty they were while getting their shit together, Mina didn’t have any hope of a quiet walk to the Harrow’s beginning. “I’m sure there’s much more to you than living in these woods and leading expeditions through the Fallow Peaks.”

“That’s all there is to know,” she replied.

Sebastian chuckled, a rumble out from his chest that buzzed in Mina’s ears. “I’m sure that’s not true. What about ‘how you got started leading expeditions’? Doesn’t seem like a job someone just falls into.”

“It’s not.”

“Then how’d it happen for you?”

“Someone had to do it. So I did it.”

“And what did that entail?”

“Doing it.”

“Sebastian,” Tanir interjected, “perhaps it’d be best if we shared a little bit about ourselves first.” She smiled at Mina. Mina kept her gaze forward, praying that the treeline would take mercy on her and move closer on its own. “I’m the company medic, been working with Sebastian since he had a particularly rough encounter collecting basilisk venom a few summers back. Poor thing hobbled to my home half turned to stone, and insisted I travel with him on his adventures ever since.”

“You faced off against a basilisk?” Enoch piped up from the back of the pack. “When we rest for the evening, you’ll have to sit down with me and give me the full story. You too, Tanir. It should definitely be added to my records.”

“Are you volunteering to go next then, Enoch?” Sebastian asked.

“I— uh—” Enoch jogged up in front of them and turned to walk backwards as he spoke, “Well I met—”

“Don’t walk like that,” Mina interrupted. “If you fall and break something, we’ll have to leave you behind, or I’ll have to kill you.”

His steps slowed as his eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“It’s quicker than the duskwolves tearing into your flesh and snapping your neck.” It was brutal imagery, but not entirely false.

“She’s kidding, Enoch,” Sebastian said.

Enoch’s voice hollowed. “H-how can you tell?”

“Because if you did break something, Tanir would gladly patch you up,” he reasoned.

“Though I’d give you a scolding while I did it for not listening to the expert,” Tanir added, drawing out the title expert to appease Mina’s non-existent good side. “So turn around and continue your story.”

“Right.” Enoch turned around quickly at her instruction, gathered his composure with a shudder of his shoulders, and turned his head slightly to the side to speak, “I met Sebastian on a truly fate-defining day. Wandering the Coast of Carvons, I was lost, looking for inspiration to strike.”

Wera groaned.

“And it did! As I sat on the beach, begging the great and powerful ocean to lend me some of its majesty, a geyser of sand erupted from underneath of me, sending me skyrocketing through the air. Whilst I fell from the heavens, I looked down at the ground below me. What once was a beach was now a golden temple! And upon the roof of this temple stood the great Sebastian Windenhofer, my new muse! Since that day, I have traveled alongside him, cataloging his adventures to tell the world of his greatness.”

“You know that the rest of us were on top of that temple too, right?” Wera chided before addressing Mina. “Please take his tales with a grain of salt. For an archivist, he seems to have a selective memory. I’m the cartographer. Sebastian was the first person to hire me out of school, and I’ve been traveling with him ever since.”

She looked back at Enoch and snickered, “See? Short, sweet, and to the point. Your turn, Sir Gargic.”

“Indeed.” Somehow, the knight puffed his swollen chest even bigger. “Unlike the rest of my compatriots, I am not under the employ of Master Windenhofer, but rather a liaison of The Crown of Lanholde. They’ve tasked the two of us with uncovering and collecting a few precious artifacts that The Crown has a vested interest in. We are on the last leg of this journey now.”

Everyone’s attention landed on Mina, heavy with expectation, a burdensome weight. They had offered their stories without her agreement. There was no need for her to respond. Responding would only embolden them to keep prying.

Sebastian broke the thick silence and turned to Tanir, “Did you really have to tell the basilisk story, Tani?”

“It’s one of my first and favorite memories of you,” she replied.

“You should’ve waited for winter,” Mina commented, against her better judgment. “Basilisks get sluggish and less alert in the cold. You can sneak up behind them and slice off their heads in one strike if your blade is sharp enough. Just make sure to cut about a foot below their jaw so that you don’t pierce the venom gland.”

Her unexpected advice, matter-of-fact and brutal, garnered shocked and confused expressions from everyone but the wizard. Maybe it was the right call, then. The more alien she seemed, the better off they all would be.

“Aha! You’re a hunter too!” Sebastian — frustratingly — cheered. “I knew there was more to you!”

 If Mina could meaningfully scowl, she would have. The sight of his smile stabbed at the corner of her eye as she kept her gaze forward. Wizards were known to be fascinated by curiously temperamental creatures, of course it would be harder to break him.

“Now, do you have any other comments, questions, concerns for our happy little troop? Perhaps some tips on how to deal with those duskwolves you—”

“You’re all loud,” she stated. “It’ll draw things to us, and cause trouble on the Peaks.”

“Why’s that?” Tanir asked.

“Avalanches.”

“Wait,” Enoch said. “There’s going to be snow on these mountains?”

“What did you think we bought all those cold weather clothes for?” Wera scoffed.

“Lanholde has a cooler climate. I just thought winter wear was the fashion there.”

Wera sent a pleading look Sebastian’s way. “Did you really have to hire him, ‘Bastian? We could have just left him stranded on that beach.”

“True,” Sebastian shrugged, “but we need entertainment on this journey, and watching the two of you bicker could rival some of the best traveling shows.”

As those around Mina talked, and laughed, and teased each other, the surrounding trees grew in number. Their trunks twisted, more gnarled and oddly shaped, their canopy so thick it shifted the shade of the lower leaves lighter from the lack of sunlight. The group came to a halt as the road ended at a wall of forest: the start of the Harrowed Wood.

“Right. Which of you can fight?” Mina asked as she headed to the front of the pack.

All of them raised their hands.

Wera and Sir Gargic she understood but the others… “This isn’t the time for jokes.”

“We wouldn’t have gotten this far if we couldn’t hold our own, lass,” Sir Gargic said. “Trust me, I was wary myself when I first met them, but even Enoch is worthwhile in a scrap.”

“Hey!” Enoch whined.

“Cartographer, you’re with me at the front,” she instructed before they wasted more time chatting. “Medic and Archivist in the center. Wizard and Knight in the back. Listen more than you talk. Keep an eye out for anything moving that shouldn’t be. If you see something, say something. And if something does attack us, no matter what happens, stay behind me.”

Mina didn’t wait for them to finish pairing off before weaving her way through the trees. She didn’t even acknowledge Wera as she hustled to fall in place beside her.

“So,” Wera drawled after a few minutes of silence between them, “why’d you pick me for the front?”

“You’re a mapmaker,” Mina replied. She didn’t look at Wera as she spoke, her stare focused on surveying the forest in front of them. “If you make a map of the Harrow and the Peaks and take down the trail I use, I may never have to lead people through here again.”

If she had to suffer through another expedition, at least she could make this one of use.

“You seem a little young to retire,” Wera remarked. “And you need income to upkeep that cabin of yours, right? Though with seven thousand gilt an expedition, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself something a little sturdier to live in.”

She could feel the pressure of Wera studying her face, looking for something she’d never find.

“There are other ways to make money that don’t involve being bothered.” She changed the subject, “People think that there are just wolves, bears, various small-time magical beasts here. The Harrow is untouched. Nature and magic are uncontrolled and unforgiving.”

“Probably because of the runoff from the Peaks or some past geological event. I’ll make a note to have Enoch look into it.” Wera took out a small notepad and jotted something down. “If that’s the case then I’d bet there are many ways to cross over into parts of Elphyne here too, probably a bunch of fae circles, areas where the veil is thin. Would you be able to point them out when we pass them?”

“Just write down the trail taken and there’s no need to worry about any of that.”

She heard Wera’s pen skip on the page and a heavy exhale out of her nose.

There it was. She hated being talked down to.

Wera abandoned the topic and turned to basic questions about the flora and landmarks, easy enough that Mina could answer with little thought as she tuned one ear to the forest as best she could through the whispers of those walking a little too far behind her.

“Would you look at that,” Sir Gargic remarked, voice slightly muffled and strained. He talked out of the corner of his mouth in a bad attempt to be quiet. “She’s actually talking to Wera.”

“People do often talk to each other,” Sebastian said coolly, not feeding the knight’s judgment.

“Yes, but she’s so—”

“Are we talking about the Brambled Beauty?” Enoch whispered.

“The what?” Sebastian deadpanned.

“You don’t like it, sir? I’m trying to figure out the perfect way to describe such a terrifying and alluring creature.”

“Alluring?” Sir Gargic guffawed, “She’s so cold!”

“Yes! She’s cold!” Tanir added, voice peaking with a burst of realization.

Mina ground her teeth to keep from chewing them out. It was better that they didn’t know how well she could hear, and she had bore much harsher digs than their rude observations anyways.

“Just because she’s different than us doesn’t make her less of a person,” Sebastian chided. “And Tanir it’s unlike you to make assumptions about someone you’ve just met.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just—”

A low gurgle deep within the ground, quiet and out of place in the harmony of forest sounds, environmental interrogation, and gossiping whispers, stilled Mina’s stride. She barred her arm across Wera’s chest, stopping the preoccupied cartographer, and held her other hand up to halt those behind them.

Their footfalls and chitchat ceased abruptly. Mina turned her head to the side, putting a finger to her lips to signal them to stay silent and wait.

She drew forth the sword that rested on her hip and crept forward, listening, eyes fixated on the forest floor. The gurgle reached her ears once more, louder and more guttural; hungry. Mina stopped, bladed her feet, and whistled a line of bird song.

“A meadowlark?” Sebastian whispered.

For a fleeting moment, she noted how keen his ear was, then a massive maw erupted out of the earth, lunging at her. Wind at her heels, Mina leaped at it, rocketing towards the toothy mouth at incredible speed, and drove her blade down through its top lip. The beast let out a terrible, gargling roar, shaking off the actual dirt and plants from its mimicking hide to reveal an ornery terramawg.

With the momentum of her jump and the leverage of her impaled sword, Mina vaulted over the bulbous amphibian’s earthen hide. She snapped her hips around, pivoting midair to face the beast’s back, and drew forth her bow in the same fluid motion.

The air stilled as Mina ran her fingers from the grip of her bow to its string. The water in the air collected, crystallized under the brush of her fingertips, forming an arrow of pure ice. She aimed for the creature’s third, slitted eye, a weak point that rested on the nape of its neck, and fired. A roaring gust of wind shook the trees, following in her arrow’s wake as it soared through the air, embedding itself deep into the terramawg’s brain.

Mina kept her focus on the beast as she descended, landing on a nearby tree bough without a glance back. The terramawg seized, the frost from her arrow glaciating its mind, and collapsed into a blubbery heap, returning to the mass of earth and withering foliage it disguised itself as.

Mina secured her bow on her back and slid down the tree’s trunk.

“Keep moving,” she said to the group as she retrieved her sword from the terramawg’s corpse.

It was as if they too had been immobilized by her ice. Sir Gargic’s hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword. Tanir had pulled out a handaxe from somewhere. Three thin daggers were laced between Enoch’s fingers like claws. A swirl of inky liquid hovered over Wera’s palm, while her other hand rested on her chest. Sebastian’s hands were coated in flame.

All of their mouths hung agape.

A dull pang pushed against Mina’s chest at the sight.

“Great Gods. Save some for the rest of us next time, will ya?” Sir Gargic shuddered.

“It was quicker if I handled it,” she stated. “Now come on. There’s more ground to cover before nightfall.” Mina turned on her heels and walked away, stepping across the terramawg’s body and taking care to drive her heels in a little harder as she did so.

“Hey, wait up!” Wera ran after her, manipulating the ink back in its vial and pulling out her notebook once again.“How were you able to tell where it was?”

Tanir pulled a stupefied Enoch along, “Come on. You should be jumping with joy. Action like that is sure to make your book even more exciting.”

“Well,” Sir Gargic remarked to Sebastian with a heavy exhale, “I guess we know why she’s so cold now.”

Sebastian hummed in acknowledgment, nothing more. Nothing until moments later, when under his breath a murmured thought slipped out.

“The wind even changed direction.”

The reverence in his tone, unheard by everyone else, bristled against the back of Mina’s neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of The Maiden of the Barren Rime! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read it.

If you're interested in reading more, MBR releases on May 1st and is available for pre-order now! You can order it from Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million, Amazon, and most independent bookstores!

[witchywithwhiskey]

nick fowler + "no more, please, I can't"

optional scenario: the rites of spring

a delicious end to a delightful spring day

pairing: ceo!fiancé!nick fowler x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (m receiving), brief/referenced piv sex, lingerie, strip tease, light bdsm, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (prințesa), tiny bit of bratting, mostly just nick spoiling his prințesa—and her showing him how much she appreciates him

word count: 1,700ish

a/n: ahh thank you for sending in something for Nick, Aspen, you were the only one!! also i feel a little bad that i keep ignoring your optional additions but i did it again 🙈 but i think you'll like CEO fiancé Nick Fowler, he's very dreamy 😏 anyway, hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡♡

“No more, please, I can’t,” you whined, digging in your heels on the sidewalk of New York City, dragging your fiancé Nick Fowler to a stop outside yet another boutique clothing store. He turned to you, settling his hands on your waist and gathering you up against his broad chest while he smiled down at you indulgently.

A lovely spring breeze was blowing through the cherry blossom trees that lined the elegant street of the Upper West Side, but your feet were aching from walking so much during the shopping trip Nick had insisted on—he’d wanted to spoil you rotten, as he’d said. But Nick’s Bentley was already stuffed full of bags filled with all kinds of clothes he’d purchased for you, and you wanted to be done. 

So you pouted up at your fiancé, your fingers twisting in the soft cashmere of his sweater. “Can we go home, sir?” you asked sweetly, trying to keep the whine out of your voice and failing miserably. 

Nick chuckled a little at your tone, then ducked down and pressed a firm kiss to your pouting lips. The gesture was enough to make you smile, and his words made you sigh with relief when he said, “Just one more stop, prințesa, then we’ll go home.”

Your fiancé waited for you to nod before lacing his fingers with yours and towing you into the clothing store, which you discovered specialized in extremely expensive lingerie. All of the pieces looked like works of art, shaped from lace and ribbon and silk. You could hardly imagine owning any of the matching sets, let alone more than one.

But Nick wasn’t just one of the top CEOs in New York City—he was renowned across the globe for his business acumen and was one of the richest men in the country. So it was of little consequence to him to hand over his black Amex in exchange for a half dozen of the shop’s matching sets, all of them in your favorite colors. 

You were a little dazed—part from shock and part from exhaustion—so you didn’t protest when one of the saleswomen stole you away from Nick while he was paying the bill. She led you into the changing room where the prettiest pink lacy bustier you’d ever seen, along with a matching thong, were hung up for you. 

The saleswoman relayed instructions from Nick that he wanted you to change into the lingerie and put your clothes back on before meeting him outside. As quickly as you could manage, you did as she said, then walked quickly to the front of the store, eager for the shopping trip to be over.

Nick stood on the sidewalk, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he waited for you, the bags from the shop already loaded into his Bentley, which was parked nearby. You stood and appreciated his handsomeness for a moment, the rugged cut of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the bright blue of his eyes. 

But then he caught sight of you, and you were stunned all over again by the sheer amount of love and adoration that emanated from the powerful businessman when he looked at you. It made your heart soar in your chest and a giddy smile spread across your face.

“Ready to go, prințesa?” Nick asked, reaching his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it.

“Yes, sir,” you chirped, the tiredness and brattiness you’d felt dissolving as you skipped to him, lacing your fingers with his. You pushed up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Nick’s scruffy cheek, murmuring, “Thank you for everything today,” as you pulled away.

“Do you like your final gift, prințesa?” Nick asked, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

His question made you very aware of the wires and lace of the lingerie pressing into your skin beneath your simple sundress, the bustier pushing up your tits and the thong revealing so much, you could feel the cool spring breeze on your bare ass beneath your skirt. It felt sinful to be wearing such decadent lingerie beneath your clothes, and you couldn’t help but smile up at your fiancé. 

“I love it, sir,” you purred, holding onto Nick’s hand and wrapping yourself around his arm as he walked you to the car. Your body warmed as you pressed against his muscled bicep, wanting to rub yourself against your fiancé but knowing the sidewalk in New York City was neither the time nor the place.

“Good,” Nick said, flashing you a grin. You’d arrived at his Bentley, and he opened the passenger door for you, helping you into the seat. It wasn’t until he was settled in the driver’s side, his hand tangling with yours again and holding it in his lap, that he went on. “You’re going to show me how much you appreciate all your gifts once we get home, aren’t you, prințesa?”

A coil of heat bloomed between your thighs at the innuendo in your fiancé’s tone and you squirmed a little in your seat, murmuring, “Yes, sir,” as ideas about how you could show your appreciation spun through your mind. Suddenly, you were even more eager to get home.

Thankfully, the drive outside of the city and into the lush countryside where Nick’s manor was located wasn’t too long, and it was enjoyable. The day was warm enough to put the windows down, and you were so content, you nearly fell asleep in the passenger seat.

However, you were anything but tired when you made it inside the manor and stood just inside the door of the bedroom you shared with your fiancé. Your heart raced with excitement as you slowly stripped off your dress to reveal the pretty pink matching set beneath, making a show of peeling the clothing off your body.

Nick sat reclined in a club chair in the small seating area in the massive bedroom, his head tilted back and his eyelids heavy as he watched you with intense focus. You could feel the heat of his gaze as it drifted down your body, teasing you without touching you. 

Stifling a shiver of desire, you dropped your dress onto the carpeted floor, leaving you in only your lingerie and heels. You stood before your fiancé, confident in the knowledge that he loved looking at your body wrapped in lace, and wanting to give him the pleasure of looking at you.

“Give me a spin, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, his voice gruff with arousal. Already, you could see the bulge of his cock in the front of his slacks.

You smirked as you twirled slowly, popping your hips out to make your ass bounce in a way you knew he liked. By the time you’d turned back around to face your fiancé, his blue eyes were dark with the promise of sin. 

“C’mere,” he murmured, crooking a finger at you. 

Anyone else might think he expected you to walk to him, but you knew your soon-to-be husband’s tastes. So instead of stepping toward him, you lowered yourself to your knees, watching as Nick’s face went slack with lust. Pressing your hands to the carpet, you crawled slowly to your fiancé. You smiled as you felt your hips swaying side to side, loving the way Nick’s eyes seemed glued to your plush ass.

You crawled between Nick’s spread thighs and rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his slacks, looking up at your man from under your lashes. 

“May I show you how much I appreciate everything you got me today, sir?” you asked in a pouty little voice, biting back a smile when Nick’s cock twitched against your cheek. You pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his length through his pants while you waited for his permission. 

“Go ahead, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, smoothing his hand over your hair and resting his palm heavily against the crown of your head. His expression was intent with desire as he looked down at you on your knees between his legs.

Eagerly, you unbuttoned and unzipped Nick’s slacks, pulling out his cock and wasting no time before you peppered the stiff length of him in kisses. You delighted in the feeling of him against your lips, the velvety softness of his skin, and the unyielding hardness beneath. Running your tongue up the underside of his cock, you lavished Nick’s cock with your attention until the tip was weeping precum. 

“Good girl, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, petting your head affectionately as you worshipped his cock. “Such a good girl—” he cut himself off in a grunt of pleasure when you wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick and licked up his creamy precum. “Mm, I can feel how appreciative you are for all your pretty new clothes.”

Sucking on the head of Nick’s cock, you pulled off until your lips were pressed against the tip and gently spit onto him, letting it roll down his hard length. Looking up at your fiance, you watched his eyes darken even further as you used your drool to get his cock nice and wet. 

“Yes, sir,” you murmured breathily, answering his question while you stroked him with your fingers. “I appreciate the springtime shopping trip sooo much.” You shot a wicked grin at Nick, then wrapped your lips around his cock and truly set to work. 

You sucked Nick’s cock with abandon, bobbing up and down on his length and kissing every inch of his balls, making him grunt and groan from all pleasure you gave him. For a long while, you drew it out, wanting to show Nick exactly how much you loved and appreciated everything he did for you, and he let you, petting your head and murmuring soft words of praise that only made you want to give him even greater pleasure.

Eventually, though, Nick decided you’d appreciated him enough. He hauled you up into the chair where he sat, pushed your thong aside and slid into your tight, exquisite heat. For the rest of the night, both you and your fiancé showed each other how much you loved and appreciated one another. It was a delicious end to a delightful spring day.

[thegainingdesk]

I work with my best mate who has obviously picked up somewhat on me packing on about 3 stone in 18 months, and that I'm not exactly upset about the added weight. Our relationship involves lots of teasing and jokes at the other's expense, so obviously the new and improved, fatter Desk has come in for some flack.

I took over a maternity role for someone, and he patted my gut at the pub after I was offered the position and asked if I was the one who was pregnant; someone (quite unexpectedly) revealed that they've got a six-pack, and he quipped that I'd been growing "a single great big ab"; we had a work thing about healthy living and he made sure to explain the concept of "eating less" to me; there's lots of comments about the amount I've eaten, or comparisons to other big guys we work with, or "bulking", and lots of belly pats and pokes.

He mentioned last week that he's bulking (but, you know, normal bulking at the gym, not eating his way into obesity), that he's currently 11 stone, and would like to work his way up to 12 stone as an initial goal. Well, naturally, I worked in that I'm currently a little over 18 stone. He was genuinely shocked. Who can blame him? It's a big number! He sort of looked at me for a bit as if he'd not properly noticed just how big I'd gotten, and then just sort of said "fuck, I guess you are about that yeah." Then he remembered that I'd previously mentioned that I was 17 stone, and he made a bit of a comment about putting on a stone in a year - I didn't correct him by pointing out that it was well under a year ago that I told him I was 17 stone.

Now, a couple of things here. The most significant is that I am 7 stone heavier than my best friend which is, for those of you who prefer to use any kind of normal units, 98 pounds. I am about a hundred pounds heavier than this man. I felt fucking huge.

Then of course, is the acknowledgement of how big I've gotten. I think because we joke so much, having him take a step back and evaluate and conclude yeah, this guy has gotten fucking fat, no joking, no quip or tease, was really fucking hot.

We're both going to a wedding in August and are sharing an AirBnB that happens to have a hot tub. The last time he will have seen me shirtless will have been about two years and three stone ago, so I'm excited to see his reaction. Now I'm thinking though, could I get up to 19 stone by then? More? What will his reaction be, I wonder, if I'm stood there in some XL swim shorts, mentioning I had to buy some new ones because my old ones didn't fit, and just drop in that I've put on yet another stone. It's odd motivation maybe, but it's really pushed me and I've been hitting 4k and 5k calories this past week. Who knows, maybe I'll hit 20 stone by that wedding.

[drdemonprince]

I've noticed a pattern in anticapitalist books I read (specifically I'm talking abt Mark Fisher here, in Capitalist Realism). They do this great anticapitalist analysis etc and then go on to critique their students? and sometimes it's a bit ableist? it's like all the critical thought goes out of the window and they cannot understand the situation because for once suddenly they are in the authoritative position. It always gives me this "I don't understand these kids, back in my day-" vibe, and I see this with lecturers at university too. like Mark Fisher maybe we can think outside the box about your student who "needs" headphones to focus in class "even though no music is playing". and maybe it's not to do with the "Matrix"(????) I'm well aware this was written in 2008 but it's weird that I see this pattern continue today. Not to mention Mark Fisher took part in some ableist studies, and was a guy with questionable intentions on occasion.

it's like you Just said that reducing labour is good why are you calling your students lazy, that's so unprofessional and privileged. I wonder of coincidence that he is anti-meds when his right wing, pro-eugenics, accelerationist friend was addicted to amphetamines.

Or even just the amount of people who have written books about laziness and anticapitalism (excluding you) and just saying the most contradictory shit ever?? or not following their own ideology???

Anyway, I wonder if, when writing Laziness Does Not Exist, you came across any of this and were equally as baffled.

Materialism is just *so* true that high-status academics don't have a vested class interest in seeing their student struggles as legitimate or in recognizing the struggles of disabled people in general. For many edgy academic leftists having the correct opinions is just a way to flex one's intellectual status, not a lived experience they give a shit about. I'm not shitting Fisher in particular in saying this, it's more that it's a really widespread problem in the culture of these kinds of (very white, very academic, very cishet) leftists communities. You see the same kind of thing among some of the Chapo stan types, too, you don't have to be specifically an academic to do it -- lots of people throwing around the r-slur and flexing on how much they have read and doing fuck all for the oppressed people around them. I tend to find it especially common among people who inherited leftism from their (often academic) parents? Whereas leftist communities populated by Black & brown anarchists and working class people tend to fare a lot better in this particular respect.

Note that I'm not saying a person's identities are a guarantee of them being any more radical -- there's lots of liberals lurking in our midsts of all identities for instance -- more that someone's orientation toward power tells you a lot. and unfortunately there is an approach to leftism that puts a lot of stock in either institutional power via the academy, or in a kind of soft power of intellectual authoritativeness that tends to punish anyone who is supposedly less well read, less intelligent, lazy, needs disability accommodations, has trauma triggers, or what have you.

The simple answer is that power and privilege obscures other people's challenges from you, and the desire to preserve one's power (be it actually institutional academic authority or just the status of the person who supposedly knows the most in the room) leads to a lot of oppressive behavior. a lot of these guys that you're talking about believe in communism sincerely but they don't have humility, they believe themselves to be superior to most everyone else. and they tend to be white guys from wealthy families who either do not have any disabilities of their own, or they have the undiagnosed intj mastermind rational flavor of autism that makes you feel incredibly alienated from others but interpret that alienation as a sign of your intellectual superiority. (i had this type but i got better. a little)