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bakugoushotwife · 6 months

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𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖜𝖔: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗

↳ cw: minors dni, dark content. proceed at your own risk. pentrative sex x2, riding, doggy, nothing really crazy here tbh, pregnancy, soft sukuna, human!sukuna, good husband fr. ↳ series masterlist ↳ jjk masterlist

you wake up the next morning enveloped in a warmth of an embrace you’ve never known. the sun was filtered red through the sheer curtain hanging over the window; the air a peaceful kind of quiet. you smile in remembrance, at the ache in your muscles and the realization of your new husband’s hard chest beneath you. he snores, you discover, every gentle breath bringing a little growl from his lips. you stifle a giggle to avoid waking him up. you have to smother out a hiss as you adjust yourself on him for the same reason—two more discoveries coming in tow–well three. you were still naked and impaled by a hard cock. now, you had heard stories of this. the old women of your village spoke of the differences between the male and female anatomy and this was one of the biggest inconveniences of being a man–so you’ve been told. men wake up nearly every morning with erections—simply a blood flow effect. however different from most men, it seems not even your husband could avoid such a problem.

only, it’s creating a problem for you. he’s so big your hips are sore from keeping them in this position for so long–a sweet ache you know you’ll learn to live with. but besides that, you’re having flashbacks to last night, the glorious feeling of being fucked for the first time. you were so meek and unsure, but now…you feel a bit bolstered. it’s like your hips have a mind of their own, whispering to you that the only way to soothe the pain is by using the muscles. he’s asleep, your conquering king of a man. and surely, if being his wife meant being readily available for him to make use of—then the same would also be true in reverse, right? so you lick your lips, blinking the bleariness of sleep out of your eyes, and then push yourself up to lean back on him; his snoring hitches immediately. your eyes dart to study his face, to see if he’s caught you in your sneaky act. but he doesn’t move, his eyes remain closed and still. you’re safe. you set your brow in determination, getting your knees under you properly.

your heart thumps loudly in your chest. you swear that will wake him before your movements do. but you can’t deny it’s exhilarating. you know you have nothing to fear even if you do wake him after all; except maybe him taking control for himself and ruining your ability to stand for another day. you’re awkward and unsure with your movements like a newborn fawn, slowly rocking back and forth with your head tossed back. you were still naked from the previous nights’ marriage festivities, as was he. so feeling him raw and bare was no issue, a hand sneaking up to fondle your own chest. little satisfied sighs and breathy moans roll freely, a gorgeous melody for anyone’s ears.

sukuna, of course, has been awake for nearly an hour at this point. he woke up before even you, still soaking in the reality that he has a beautiful little wife tucked away on his cock. that this wasn’t all some realistic dream or cruel technique of an enemy. he spent every second admiring the way your body inhaled and exhaled; the part of your lips and flutter of your lashes as you slept against his heartbeat. he got to spend forever like this, with mornings like these, your supple body tangled up in his own firm one, your soft breasts resting like pillows beneath you. this was too good to be true.

when you started to rouse, he quickly feigned sleep. part of him wanted to see if you would admire him in the same way he did you—but you were doing one better. it was growing more and more difficult to fake his slumber, your perfect little body bouncing up and down on him, his eyes cracked just wide enough to see your pouty lips purse with the need to shower him in their kisses; cock twitching inside you with the way your tits bounced with every slam down on his monstrous cock. you lean forward, stifling little whimpers as your pussy hugs and squeezes the very life out of him. your lips find his, and he struggles to stay limp and unresponsive. you whine with need, your dainty fingers tracing the calcified mask on his face. he can’t pretend anymore, kissing you back with the unbridled passion you always get from him. you squeal with a mix of surprise and happiness upon realizing that he’s awake, leaning back with a giggle.

“good morning, husband.” you greet, a lazy smile with lidded eyes, panting with pleasure.

“what a good morning indeed, my little wife.” he purrs, his voice sending quivers to your pussy. the deep rasp of it was intoxicating, it almost embarrasses you how responsive your body is to it. his massive hands stabilize the width of your hips, a lazy smirk donning his own features. “go on, my queen. make yourself cum with your husband’s cock.” he insists, fire blazing in those already crimson eyes.

he has such a way with words. your pussy clamps around him again, fits of spasms causing you to flutter as well as rock your hips. he was sensitive from sheathing himself inside of your cozy cunt all night, and the way you look and sound doesn’t help matters. he knows he only has minute before you both cum, and these are minutes he’ll cherish until he gets to do it again tonight.

“ryo–men!” you whimper brokenly, the sound of it like a chant to his ears—a name he used to despise hearing upon the lips of others was a treasure coming from you. sukuna was too formal for his wife to use with him, he certainly used your name enough. your head bobs quickly, brows pinching in sheer pleasure. it’s the telltale sign, he’s discovered, that you’re close to cumming beautifully.

“yes, my precious little lamb, cum for me…” he demands in a tone that declared nothing but his fondness for you. your body shudders forward, jumping to obey his command, everything tightens up; your cunt around his cock, your legs on either side of his thick torso, even your pretty nipples harden up again. then he feels the gush of fluid coat his stiff length before that erupts inside you too. you slump against the comfort of his tattooed chest, purring happily at the feeling of his seed. you are trying to turn that into an heir for him after all. his hearty chuckles bring you back to the present moment, where his hands brace your hips. “what a pleasant way to start my day, little lamb.”

you smile, sitting up to meet his smitten red eyes. “i hope we spend most of our mornings this way.” you nod, just the silky sheet wrapped around your little frame. he arches a brow at that, a lazy grin that still clearly came from this softened morning state of him.

“most? not all~” he teases, sitting up to pepper kisses to your face; his arms tighten around your back, biceps flexing to hold you taut to his body. this was a version of him that was only for you, you decided, the morning time has nothing to do with it.

“i think my legs may fall off if i try to do that every morning–” you giggle, the sound so beautifully relaxing to his mind he can do nothing but laugh with you. that’s so foreign, laughing from a place of genuine joy instead of malice or brutal teasing. but it feels good. it feels like something he could get used to in your presence, a delight he could only indulge in with you. you were warm and kind and soft, the antithesis of everything he was. but you were also bold, and fiery, and honest—other traits he values just as much as waking up body on body. you complete him, a total monster, with your good humor and even temper–there is no doubt about it, you are the love of his life.

and he would do anything to protect you.

when a knock sounds at the door, he finds himself tucking you behind him with his left arms, staring at the heavy wood to register the energy behind it. he grunts his relief, covering you properly with the other fur blankets of the mattress.

“you may enter, uraume.” his deep voice thundered , giving you a nod of reassurance as the knob clicks to open. in struts someone in long robes and white hair styled in a bob, red streaks around the center.

“sukuna-sama,” they bow deeply, tucking their hands inside their sleeves. “good morning. i hope you had a good rest.” you feel something akin to jealousy bubbling in your gut. they bow again. “my queen, i am honored to meet you. i am your humble servant, please send for me should you need anything.” they hum.

“good, good. get us breakfast.” sukuna smirks, fond of the unsure smile on your face. not only do you love him, but you’ll get jealous over him? and that fact fills him with such pride he doesn’t know what else to do but smirk. oh the surprises you’re showing him daily…

uraume bows once more and exits the room on a mission to get their boss and his new wife something to eat.

“uraume is an outcast like i was. i have cared for them as my servant since we came across each other. they are loyal–but i can promise there is nothing to worry about, my love.” he says tenderly. you don’t doubt him, you would never doubt him. but his words put you at ease. you nod a few times, twisting to give him another kiss before slipping out of bed to freshen up before the faithful servant returns to see you so disheveled.

he grabs your cheek before you can escape him completely, “you trust me.”

your eyes bounce between the mask and his plain eye. “of course i do.” you grin, “i’m just going to get dressed for the day!” you hum, leaning into the warmth that takes up your entire head and face. he smiles softly.

“good, we have a big day ahead of us.” he says, admiring the glow to your skin, the happiness crinkling your eyes. “we’ll have an official coronation by the end of the week. the people from the lands i have conquered will recognize their rulers or die.” he hums, a pleasant lilt to his voice even when he’s saying something vicious like that. “then we’ll focus on the renovations to the castle and building our family.”

your heart thumps. he has such big plans, all of which include you. he wants to create a life with you, for you. the strongest man on the planet wants you to be the mother of his children and rightful queen in ruling alongside him—something he wants to share with you. he has all the power in the world to make you completely and utterly subservient to him—to take what he wants and not waste his time on anything else. marrying at all spoke volumes, but the genuine love he handles you with is enamoring in and of itself.

“i can’t wait. planning will be fun. i love to host.” you wiggle your hips, opening your closet to find some robes for the day. he lays on his side and lovingly watches you comb through your hair and wash your face clean. your body is littered with lovebites from the night before, some only reddened from his added attention this morning. you’re so radiant to a point he almost doesn’t want anyone to look at you. but alas, you’re a natural born leader and a queen too perfect to hide away. even if that will manifest his own jealousy. your happiness is his primary goal—something he never thought he would say.

uraume returns with omurice for the two of you, and eagerly discusses plans about the coronation with you. they will spread the word immediately so that the subjects from far and wide may travel in for the event. and uraume will contact the finest architects to start bringing sukuna’s designs to life. your excitement is palpable by the time you finish breakfast.

the rest of the week ticks by without much fanfare. the two of you have settled in your makeshift palace—or castle as sukuna has taken to calling it. your life as a married woman is lavish. someone brings you your food and runs your bath water for you, braids your hair as soon as it’s combed through—which your husband insists on doing himself. he dotes on you in all of his spare time, working tirelessly to “welcome” all the travelers into the growing city he was proud to call home. this was his wife’s birthplace, of course he would erect your lives here.

the night before the coronation, he comes to bed later than usual. “some of these nasty little gremlins talk incessantly–” he complains, finding you in a tight silken nightgown laying atop the sheets. you seemingly know what you do to him. it’s already hard not to destroy your little body, and then you have to go and provoke him–

“i missed you.” you purr, crawling on your knees to the end of the bed. oh the desire burning through his veins is ominous for you. you may have to be crowned seated tomorrow. “i know you were so busy today…let’s unwind?” you sit back on your haunches. he would move mountains to keep you here like this forever.

his eyes siren in on you, merely a wolf preying on his lamb. “i missed you too, tiny queen.” he stalks forward, pawing at the breadth of your hips, the swells of your breast. “you know just how to make a bothersome day better.” he mutters, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin—raising goosebumps in its wake. the simple touch of his hands mixed with the feeling of his voice rumbling against your veins had your eyes shutting to try and tame the yearning stinging in your pussy. “i want to put my children in you.”

a small moan slips past your lips. your black widow technique is suited for it, just an added ability to be fertile since it’s related to animals and mother earth. his promises to breed you only activated a very deep seeded part of you that only he can satisfy. he eases you back, turning you to a position on your knees. you brace yourself, the chill of excitement racing down your spine. his large hand smoothes against the soft pudge of your belly, prompting you to sink in against it in the most perfect arch.

“i’ll be nestled in so nicely my little lamb,” he promises, the deep silken baritone of his voice has you clenching, the familiar wetness drooling down your thighs. you’re so easily worked up. but he can’t bring himself to just take from you, his inability to say how much he loves you easily replaced by his need to show it. his hand angles lower, calloused middle finger petting back the hood of your precious clit, your breath catching in your throat. “so deep i’ll cum straight into your womb.”

just his presence makes your head woozy. that’s before the gentle circles to your swollen bundle, before his strong body pressed against your back had your knees wobbling against the mattress. he found it adorable that your hips moved on their own, grinding into his hand to seek your own pleasure. he loved watching it, loved listening to your little whimpers as you processed just how good a few of his digits could make you feel. “so much cum, drown your poor insides,” he sighs in faux boredom, grinning as you fling your head back with a gasp. “do it, go ahead.”

and how could you not? the perfect combination of touch and taunts to get you to the precipice. your orgasm shatters your insides, eyes widening at the intensity. that’s a feeling you’ll never entirely get used to no matter how many times sukuna gives it to you. he chuckles fondly, tapping your swelling cunt. you hear the shuffle of fabric and then you feel it; his weighty cockhead dripping against your entrance. “that’s a good little wife, let’s see how many you can handle on my cock…”

your hands fist the sheets, body going rigid to accommodate his size in this position. it hurts so blisteringly good, lightning sparkling in your vision as he, as promised, prods at your poor cervix, in for a long ride tonight. his hands position themselves on your hips, drawing the fat of your ass along the fat length of him, eliciting wanton moan after wanton moan from you. you stretch your arms out in front of you like a cat, grunting and whining from the way his hips collide with your asscheeks. it’s all you can hear though, even drowning out the sounds of your own moans. he’s drilling you; cramming inches of dick in such a small space he can’t believe you’re real. no wonder he’s so taken with you. he goes impossibly harder–faster, your arms giving out beneath you–face collapsing into the bed.

“ryo—” your voice is muffled from the sheets, body crumpled up beneath him. oh it’s so hard not to break you entirely—only out of his utter love for you is he able to keep a clear mind, be thankful that you have enamored him so. your hands brace against the headboard, nails scratching at the wood in front of you, vision completely blacked out–the only thing you can think of is how fuzzy you feel all over.

“cum, i’ll turn you over and keep going.” he growls against your shoulder, looping an arm around your neck to put you in a secured headlock. it’s not choking, but it’s suffocating all the same. the cushion of his strapping bicep makes you drool from both ends, spasming around your husband’s cock for the nth time since you’ve been married. his voice commands such obedience, so domineering in the way that he orders you cum for him. your body physically cannot disobey.

his grin is devilish once he feels the warm rush, and he stays good on his promise, flipping you to a more comfortable position on your back. “that’s one…” he hums softly, picking up your legs at their bend, pinning them to his hips as he slides back in. you scream out at the added pressure, the stimulation so much to endure at the hands of your passionate husband.

instantly, he’s rocking slowly. you know there’s a plan, a secret bite. he’s hitting you so deep, smacking into your breeding spot each and every time, warming it up to the idea of taking every drop of him. your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, lips swollen and pink from all the chewing on them to quiet yourself. your gorgeous tits bounce to punctuate every thrust–he can’t get enough of you. he puts your legs on his shoulders with a little snarl, nipping at the skin on your neck.

you’re drifting blissfully in waves of pleasure, barely conscious already. “so beautiful, fucked out, making cream on my dick..” he chuckles into your ear, licking the shell and nipping the lobe before giving you a hungry kiss. it demonstrates his true passion, his genuine worship of his wife. his hips snap a little faster, mouth angled over yours to swallow up all your moans. “so good for her husband. taking me so very well..”

he ends up drawing four orgasms out of you total. tomorrow he’ll try five—in the name of celebration of course! you’ll officially be king and queen tomorrow. and he intends to keep such festivities going for as long as he can. for once, sukuna has a lot to celebrate.

the next day, uraume is stretched thin trying to attend to you both. you require the most attention, as your hair and robes are rather intricate and need assistance to put together. but sukuna is impatient and doesn’t like to be separated from you for any length of time, so he insists on changing in the room with you and sitting with you as your hair is braided and weaved. no one would have pegged him as the clingy type—but it does make sense when you think on it past his brute surface. you are the only person he has ever cherished. putting you in danger was something he just simply wasn’t willing to do. problem is, he considers anywhere out of his immediate sight as danger.

eventually though, you’re dressed like the queen you’re soon to become. sukuna wore simply ravishing black robes, allowing all the color and decor for his beautiful bride. he smiles at you as you step off of the stool in all your glory.

“you look beautiful in that…you always do.” he says with a nearly dopey expression on his face. he reaches for your hand and tucks it around his bicep, leading you out on the terrace overlooking the crowd. a raucous roar greets the two of you a you come into the scene, red and black flowing fabric swaying with the gentle breeze; highlighting the complexion of your skin and the warmth of your smile.

a town shaman performs the crowning rite. it’s short and simple, your crowns anything but. while the general consensus of the crowd seems pleasant, you can pick out a few less than satisfied faces out amongst the rest of your new congregation–a hubbub of your old one. sukuna takes your hand once again, standing before everyone on an elevated platform, leaving without another word. no grand speech, no slaughtering to strike fear into their hearts. just the faint smile as he leads you back to the quarters you’ve come to love so much.

you almost expect him to get straight to it, fiddling with the tie on your dress robes, but he helps you with a gentle hand. he’s still in disbelief, honestly. these are dreams he hadn’t even dared to dream before. you make everything better. it’s…shocking. he helps you into your regular nightgown, disrobing on his own. “how does it feel..? to officially be queen–my queen?” he asks as he peels back the covers for you. he seems eager to pick your brain, and you know it’s his way of figuring out how he feels exactly too.

“i feel good. i feel like we have a lot to do, and we have a lot of support and ability to make this a really successful reign, my love.” you smile. laying on your side to look at him. he’s mirroring your posture, reaching out to paw at your hips, bringing you closer, wrapping his frame around yours in a tight hug. “i feel like we’ve already accomplished so much in bringing all these people together!”

your answer brings a smile to his face. he should have known it would be some optimistic cute utterance like that, you’re genuinely too sweet sometimes. “how about you? how do you feel?”

“i feel…like i am dreaming.” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours. the gesture makes your heart swell and heat up. you just spend a few moments gazing at each other.

“you’re not dreaming.” you whisper between you, fluttering lashes just flirting with him. a grin spreads his cheeks.

“come here and prove it.”

he gives you the promised five orgasms that night, and your body is so spent you sleep through most of the next day, spending those remaining daylight hours out in the flower field on a picnic date with your husband.

the next week was spent hosting the contractors and architects, sitting in on the meetings with your king husband to weigh in on your own designs and choices. it’s fun to see everything laid out so simply, every image and description the two of you have was brought to life. the cobblestone kitchen idea, the long hallways, the wrapping stairs and canopy bed. all of it.

the week after that, they start construction. it’s been about two and a half months into your marriage–two months have passed already? how could that be?

“m’lady? lunch.” uraume’s voice rips you from your own head. you had yet to drag yourself out of bed this morning. you hadn’t been feeling very well at all the past few days, and the idea of eating whatever that awful smell was had your stomach bubbling. uraume hadn’t even fully entered the room yet, seeing you sneer at your food, they sigh heavily. “what is it, do you not like my cooking all of a sudden?”

your husband got up on schedule to oversee some of the work being done today and was no doubt sending his most loyal servant in to check on you. you really were feeling horrible, if it weren’t for their usefulness you’d have half a mind to be annoyed with sukuna for sending them. you shake your head fervently.

“no–i dunno, there must be some flu going around, i’m sure it will pass.” you sigh, snuggling the blankets up to your face.

“let me bring the healer. perhaps she has a tonic to ease your nausea. or perhaps it’s the news you’ve been waiting for, my queen.” they say with a giddy little grin. their reminder has you gasping.

“yes, please fetch her. do not tell the king until we know for certain, please?” you ask hopefully. it’s always a tough sell to have uraume keep anything away from sukuna. but to your surprise, they nod. this is news that you should break yourself.

sure enough, uraume returns with the village healer nearly an hour later. sukuna is still tied up with the building plans—you can hear him yelling orders from your bedroom—but you’re actually grateful to be without him for now. you lay down for her and answer her questions about your marriage dates and your last bleeding.

she feels your stomach, listening with a tool you’ve never seen before.

“ahh~ seems your servant had the right idea. it seems the queen is pregnant. congratulations.” she bows her head deeply, your eyes filling with tears as you exchange a sweet look with uraume, how special for them to be a part of this moment.

“thank you–” you manage with a gasp, absolutely over the moon, needing desperately to see your husband. this was news you’d never be able to keep to yourself for long. uraume seems to know exactly what you’re thinking; offering to fetch him instantly.

you stand at the foot of your bed, pacing in wait. you have no idea what uraume said to draw him in your direction, and you’re hurrying to think of a good way to share the news. you didn’t have very long, your husband bursting into the room with panicked eyes searching over you.

“uraume says the healer was here—are you alright?” he says, his lower set of hands reaching for yours. your grin blossoms, betraying every intention you had of playing coy.

“i’m fine, my love. i’m more than fine. i’m pregnant!” you squeal, the news like someone sucked the air out of his lungs. you squeeze his hands, beautifully happy—contagiously happy. it’s finally real, you’re going to grow the family. you’re making all his dream reality. he blinks at you, wondering if that was just his active imagination.

“what?” he blinks, bringing you closer, holding your hips, “say it again.”

“i’m pregnant, sukuna. we’re going to have a baby. a little heir!!” you grin from ear to ear, being scooped up in his strong arms a second later. you’re spinning around the room in a fit of giggles, his touch secure and tight.

if you thought your husband was clingy before, good luck getting him to leave your side now.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t @secondos-slut @alltimenogoaway-blog @tragedyofabrokensoul @eiaaasamantha asukahiriko2 @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @alastors-radio @gojosukuna2268 @hannas16 @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath

#jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #dead dove fic #dark content #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna

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yuri-is-online · 10 months

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The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.

But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?

notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.

Two sentences.

Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages. One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.

Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies. The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke. He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them.

Costume. His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust. Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out. He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs. This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot. The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences. He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.

~~~~

Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel. It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers. Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg. But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume. It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly. A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for. And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through. Vil remembered. The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull. It is probably very dark and lonely back there. Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different. Even it was overworked and making concessions.

“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.” Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.

“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!” You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.

“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”

“Glad you noticed!” You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away. “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes! The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”

“Where’d mine come from then?” Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must really like his outfit. “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”

“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.” Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you. His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors. “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”

“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.” The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.

“Thank you.” You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-

“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise. “We really hoped you would like them.”

You can barely hear their words over your focus on him. If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble. But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you. You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names. Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again? And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume.

“What will Yuu be doing?” Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation. How cute.

“Yuu and Grim will be with me.” Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.

“Are you alright with this arrangement?” He asks.

“Oh we discussed it before we got here.” You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him. “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.” If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud.

“Yeah!” Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else. “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking about Grim.” Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both. But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.

“Human!” Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief. “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting! Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!” You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.

“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.

“Yes, for both of us.” He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.

~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.” Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.

“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!” Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute. Grim is similarly distressed.

“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”

“We’ve got to respect their wishes.” You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat. You miss scratching his ears. “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations. You are worried you won’t get any food, right? I won’t let that happen.”

“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.” Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding. “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”

“Well then what are we waitin’ around for! Let’s get cracking!” Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.

“So,” a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”

“I was wondering that as well.” Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke. “He wasn’t being rude was he? An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”

“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.” Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.

“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.” It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.

“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.” He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made. You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.) Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.

“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.” It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.

“Me too, Tsunotarou. It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.” You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research. Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.

“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”

“About relaxing?” Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too. You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.

“No! Well kinda. I mean about what ya wanted to do.” Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts. “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.” Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them. This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.

It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus. You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that? Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier. You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.

~~~~

Yuu. The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling. He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does. He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him. Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

It was generic, there was so much more he should have said. But what could he offer you? You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him. To refuse his help would be understandable.

“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”

The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go. And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety. But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect. The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle. Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison. It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind. It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it…

Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.

They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is.

“What’s so surprising about that?” The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve. “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes. What do you two take me for?” Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation. The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.

“Certainly.” He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself. Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here. “I’ll take my leave then-”

“Oh before you go!” Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you. For including Yuu I mean.” Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected. “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim. I was really happy they got to come!”

“Yeah!” Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage. “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”

“Of course.” Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name. “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor. It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning. The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again. “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.” It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.

Azul frowns deeply for just one moment. “Are you sure you should be thanking him?” His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.

“Why?” Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.

“... no reason.” Yet anyway.”

~~~~

For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group. “You need to be more careful.” You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose. He sneezes.

“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”

“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.” Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin. He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.

“Rollo! Sorry I didn’t see you.” Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu! He clearly just got here! “Is everything ok? No one causing you any trouble?” You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.

“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.” Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”

“It’s goin great!” Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest. “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”

“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.” His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride. “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to? Is there still something you wish to see?” Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask. It is, you suppose, a natural question if

“I’m sorry?” Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet…

“This is an experience for you too, yes?” Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true. “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”

“Of course I will.” Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence. There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo. “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.” You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no. If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.

“I’m so sorry he just left like that.” You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs. The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.

“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.” Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him. “So just what was it you wanted to see?”

“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for. “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else. “Is there any place I could do some research I guess? Like on really obscure myths and history.” It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.

“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”

“Not at all.” You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind. He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.

“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?” He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.

“Yes.” Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests. “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”

“What sort?” The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping. “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention. As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society. I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”

“Why?” You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased. If anything he seems oddly pleased.

“Do you think yourself unimportant?” The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming. “I meant what I said before. I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”

“No!” His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts. “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.” Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear. You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.

“After you, Yuu.” Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.

~~~~

There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory. This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you. His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults. Is he truly responsible for your joy now? And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it? He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption.

“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.” And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.

“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…” There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done. “Would you like something from it?” You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped. “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.”

“I can’t ask you to do that!” So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.

“Then don’t.” He cannot help but smile as he says it. Cute. He thinks that is the word he wants to use. You have his entire attention. “Just tell me what you would like.” He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no. You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something. He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think. This… impulse is not his fault. You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.

There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples. Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved. This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back. He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen? It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.

“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?” Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.

“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?” The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined. Desperate even.

“No, worlds. Like different realities or dimensions.” You try again. “Maybe something about liminal spaces?” That just makes them laugh.

“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section! Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.” You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight. He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like. There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic. So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject? You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even. It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.

“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction. As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible. Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”

“I see.” You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream. There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around. He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits. “You must think I’m very silly.” You whisper.

“I think you are not telling me something.” He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic. “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.” His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression. It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source. “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.” While you can be safe in his arms.

“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality. One where magic didn’t exist.” He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines. “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”

“Yes.” There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul? The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense. Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student? The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.

“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back. That was his excuse for sending me to the social. He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.” Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket. The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it. The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you. There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?

“You can speak poorly of him here.” There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you. Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other. Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise. You poor thing…” It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry. It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you. “It’s cruel to keep you like this.” Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes. Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you. “Are you still hungry?” He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.

“Yes.” You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do. Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips. Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.

His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual. “I have to take you back now.” He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.

Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.

~~~~

“Ahh child of man! Good to have you back, come sit with us.” Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest. Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already. You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival. Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks. It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together. Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.

“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?” Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder? Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.

“You could totally upgrade those.” Snarks Idia. Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks. At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel. Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat. “Are you sure you should be standing up?” He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.

“I’m ok, promise.” you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.

“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.” Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks. The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation. Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer. You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you. Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand. “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu? I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.” You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.” Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you. He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say. He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you. But you’re tired, so very very tired. It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open. So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you. “Yuu!” Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.

Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to rest? Rest here in the City of Flowers?

“Is the noise bothering you?” Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you. “Would you like to return to the school?”

“That might be for the best.” Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern. “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?” You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying. A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.

“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”

“That's quite alright.” Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose. You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason. This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his. There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you. Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.

“I am going to trust you.” You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying. If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.

~~~~

Fire. There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel. Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it. Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.

“Forgive me.” Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice. You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you. The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from. “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”

You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful. “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage. I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment. I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it. I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…” His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand. “Can I ask you for your forgiveness? Do I even have the right?” Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp. Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.

“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment. “Can you accept it?” Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.

“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…” He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”

“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?” You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you. Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.

“Don’t you?” There is pain in his eyes. Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it. “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”

“You aren’t like them.” It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have. But- “Why do you care about me so much?” You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion. Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand. But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips. Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air. He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.

“I don’t know why.” Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,” he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you. What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry. I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves. Where, when there is danger, you are protected.” This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear. The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.

“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.” And just like that, you don’t care. Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had. You should hold him to the same standard you had the others. “I’ll come back for you.” It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful. “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.” You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.

“Stay safe.” You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door. Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You too, Yuu.” He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it. It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him? If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it? Just obsession or-

“AHA!” A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor. “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”

~~~~

“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.” Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress. “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.” There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students. “Are you sure you should be thanking him?” As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.

“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu. Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”

“Indeed.” Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something. “But his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”

“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences. Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

“The rest of you do that.” Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious. But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm. “I’ll go look for Yuu.”

“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?” Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down. “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah? No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”

“So there you have it.” Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses. His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”

“Dude it has literally been like an hour.” Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus.

“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”

~~~~

“Nyhahahaha! Take that!” Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes. “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim! I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!” The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones. You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus. As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight. He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob. “I was so worried about you.”

“I'm ok Grim.” You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears. “A bit sleepy but ok.”

“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.” You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles. “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower! Just like a real hero!” But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart. Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.

“I wish I had met him sooner.” It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.

“You don’t wanna go do ya.” Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge. “Well then we can stay. Why should we go back to the other guys! Yeah! Screw ‘em! Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”

“No it’s ok Grim.” You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs. “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”

“Yeah…” Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already. “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone. S’ not fun without you. I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”

“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.” You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit. It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home. But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.

The rest of the night is a blur. Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost. They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.

About the lotuses. About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.

“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again. Malleus got really scary.” The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later. A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out. And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball. Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it. But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended. You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure. For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away. It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.

~~~~

“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.” Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too. “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”

“And what could that possibly be?” Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.

“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.” Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes. How unfortunate. “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm. And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”

“Have you asked them?” Rollo replies tersely.

“Why would we need to do that?” Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned. Angry even. If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.

“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.” He snaps. “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them? Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses? Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”

“No I don’t think you are.” Azul says. “Not in the way you think, anyway. Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly. Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”

“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.” Mutters Idia.

“And completely destroy my credibility?” Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.

“I agree with Shroud.” Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke. “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact. Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”

“Oh of course!” Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone. “But perhaps back to my point-”

“You don't have one.” Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.

“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too. They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.” Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.

“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”

“I mean yeah.” Says Idia. “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say. If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character. If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us. And trust me, they’re scary smart. They’ll know.” And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.

Two lines. The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing. And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.

Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic. They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures. They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling. There, that’s three lines.

Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.

What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants? Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like? Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?

He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time. Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.

“May I have your hand?” Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.

“Of course.” He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense. He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close. “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions? About some things that Idia told me…”

“Will you give me your number?” He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one. “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.” You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes. “I meant what I said before. I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite. Solace.”

“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.” You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it. He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places. Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-

“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.” There is an unspoken aura over you both. Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience. An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rollo flamme x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #tw yandere #tw drugs #tw drugging

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therosietoesy · 1 month

Text

Shout at the Devil

Warning: riding dick, smut, choking, spitting, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding, cream pie.

A/N: reposting my first ever Eddie fic

You and Eddie are a match made in heaven. Although everyone is confused on how the photo editor of the yearbook ended up with the resident freak. It happened during the summer before your senior year. You were at Hideout photographing the bands playing, it was then you were introduced to Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin. You were the last person he expected to see there but it created a friendship that was golden.

Soon Eddie asked you out and you were inseparable. You could not have asked for a better partner. He was beyond supportive of your dreams and you of his. Anytime Corroded Coffin played he made sure that you were their photographer nobody else could be but you. Which you truly appreciated and found beyond adorable.

It was a typical night that Corroded Coffin had a show to play that evening. You met Eddie at the hellfire club room they were playing their campaign before their show which their set wasn't till very later that night. It looked like they were cleaning up the session and getting ready to go for the show. Everyone else has left for the evening expect for Eddie who was waiting for you to arrive. “How was tonight’s session Dungeon Master?” You asked. He let out a chuckle “It was great, those dorks won’t know what hits them next session when the big storyline is introduced.” He pulled you into a hug and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Well, it sounds like you had loads of fun.” You replied. His eyes kept going back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “Why don’t you just kiss me Eds?” You joked and he finally pressed his lips against yours. A simple kiss turning to a heated make out session and he led you to the infamous Dungeon Master throne. He took his rightful place and pulled you into his lap continuing the heated kiss. We'll continue in kissing it turned into grinding on each other. Thank Ozzy you wore a skirt that day so you could really feel your cunt against the roughness of the denim of his jeans. He began to groan out your name “Y/n, please don’t stop.” You just giggled and continued your movement against his crotch. This kept going on for a few moments until his hands gripped your waist and stilled your movements all together.

“Babe.” He mumbled against your lips, you nodded in response. “Ride me, please.” He whispered softly. You never moved faster to remove each article of clothing, but a firm hand stops you from removing your skirt, you glanced up at him. “Keep it on” he spoke and you nodded your head in agreement. He removes your panties from underneath and lifted you up over his dick. Carefully placing you down on his dick and holding your hips letting you adjust. You both let at a moan of the feeling of being connected. A whine leaves your lips and you begin to roll your hips. Eddie hands hold on to your waist as soon as you start picking up your pace. Bouncing up and down over and over again moans flying from your lips. “Y/N!” Eddie started chanting your name over and over again like a beautiful song. One of his hands came to your neck and he started to apply pressure to your neck which made you open your mouth and his other hand held your jaw so that way he can spit into your mouth. “Swallow “ He grunted and you swallowed thus resulting you sticking out your tongue to show him and he groaned out at how obedient you are for him.

His grip started to get frimer and slightly painful in a good way. “Eddie, baby, please oh please.” You whined and picked up your pace.He started to tease and groan with how you felt wrapped around him. “Begging to cum already hun? You want to breeded don’t cha?” He quipped while running his hand through your hair and he yanked it. You moaned out a loud yes and kept begging him. “Eds, please breed me. Fill me up with your cum. I need it.” You whined and felt the glorious burn in your legs and stomach. He soon felt your pussy start squeezing him for what he’s worth and then his fingers fly to your clit to began to circle it to bring you over the edge. Shouting of his name “Eddie, Oh my fucking god!” as you came all over his cock. Thus he started bucking up into you faster and faster once he was close stopped his movements and held you in place as he released his cum into you and filling you up. Pants and sighs fill the Hellfire club room and soon enough soft laughter. “Wow, that was something babe.” Eddie remarked and held you close to him. You giggled, “I love you Eddie. Don’t forget you have a show to get to.” He groaned “Fuck, I don’t want to go.” “Common Rockstar, we gotta get going.” You said getting ready to climb off his lap. Once you both gotten up and stretched out, both began to redress and you slipped on your underwear while being bent over Eddie came and placed a slap on your cum filled pussy to remind you of this moment when you watch him on stage tonight and felt some of his cum leak down your thighs.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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chiaraswritings · 1 year

Text

Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably.

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?"

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk."

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured."

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in.

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now.

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again.

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic.

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead.

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again.

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..."

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go.

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain.

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile.

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man.

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit."

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back."

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts."

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?"

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake.

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying.

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking.

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?"

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?"

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back."

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?"

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay."

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me.

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes.

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered.

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep."

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares.

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces.

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato.

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move.

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes.

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk."

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace.

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink."

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries.

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce.

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt.

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash."

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it.

"Bruce... Bruce, wait."

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes.

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others.

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly."

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened.

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly.

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes.

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like."

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love.

"Expect the unexpected."

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anonymityisfunwriter · 6 months

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our day will come.

a.n. someone needs to take away my amy winehouse records asap. or don't, if you like these angsty little fics.

summary: you tell him over and over again, your day will come. you swear it will. the sun will shine on you if he gives it time. your day will come. one way or another. pairing: bucky barnes x reader cw: character death and major angst Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

4 years ago...

you rest your forehead against his forehead, tucking strands of his long hair away from his face, "don't fall in love with me yet, soldier."

"why?" he grunts, his fingers tightly gripping your waist.

"because it's not our time. not yet." you rest your hand on his chest, keeping him at arm's distance. "because our day will come, and what a glorious day it will be."

3 years ago...

"you're upset."

he faces away from you, his shoulders rising and falling with angry heavers. you reach for his shoulder, steadying them. "am i not supposed to be?"

"no." he turns to face you, his jaw tight, his face weary and worn. you cup his cheek, doing your best to soothe the worry he wears on his face. "our paths will cross again. our day will come."

"and until then? what am i supposed to do knowing you're out there fighting and i'm stuck here in cryo?"

"you have faith, my love."

he rests his hand against yours, the one caressing his cheek with a gentleness he had long forgotten. "i thought you said we weren't supposed to fall in love yet."

"our day will come." you swear it will. "one day, the sun will shine on us. just be patient."

2 years ago...

"bucky," you sigh. your eyes flash to your packed gear. "my love, it's simply not our time yet."

"you keep saying that!" he shouts in frustration, sitting at the edge of his bed in his wakandan hut. "when will it be our time? when will it be our day?"

"i don't know," you admit.

he cups the back of your neck. "we're waiting for a time that may never come. what if this is all we get? right here and now? what if this is our time?"

"we'll know when it's our time. it will come," you insist. "i'm sure of it."

his pleading eyes bore into yours. "how do you know that?"

"i see it. in my dreams. in my heart. it's right over the horizon. one day, we'll feel the sun shine on us."

"dreams aren't always our reality," he reminds you. "there's always going to be another fight around the corner."

"perhaps." you softly exhale, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. he takes your hand, urging you back to his bed. "but it won't be our fight anymore. our battles dwindle day by day. and right now, our battles force us into a goodbye. it won't be forever. one day, our fates will align."

you lie beside him. you can tell he doesn't quite believe you. he strokes the hair from your face, stroking your cheek with his calloused fingertips. "what will it look like? our day?"

you can see it in your mind. even if he can't.

a day without war looming over the horizon. a day where he could lie beside you without worrying about your next goodbye. a day when you could look over at his sleeping face without cuts and bruises, from battles you were fighting both alone and together, privately and publicly, marring his peace.

a glorious day, indeed.

"it'll be beautiful," you explain, resting your head on his chest. you listen to the steady beat of his heart, he strokes up and down your spine in perfect synchrony. "there'll be no more tears, no more pain or heartache. and we'll always stay like this. we'll have everything. we'll know the joy of falling in love over and over again. we'll know it every single day."

"what if i've already fallen in love?"

"one day falling in love won't hurt so much. one day we won't need to say goodbye." you lie with him, holding onto him for as long as you can. your next goodbye is so close, his arms around you only wards them off for so long, but it wouldn't always be like this. you were sure of it. "our day will come, my love."

1 year ago...

you don't realize it until it's too late, until the damage is irreparable. he sucks in a breath, clutching his bloody abdomen. he sinks to his knees, falling in a heap.

"bucky?" you scream, scrambling to his side. you lean over him, descending into a full panic. your heart crumbles along with the future you planned with him, all before your very eyes. "no, no, no! please, please, please."

your hands search for the wound through the gushing blood. he's losing too much too fast. even for a super soldier.

his jarringly cold hand, a terrifying deviation from his normal warmth, reaches out to stop you. he grips your trembling hand, holding it tightly. he strokes calming patterns into the back of your hand. he's accepted what you never would. his time has come.

tears burn, slipping down your cheeks. "no. no. it's not your time. please."

he looks up at you, smiling. all the years of worry, of agony, of torment have melted off his face. he looks at peace as he lies in a pool of his own blood. his flesh hand rests against your face as he mutters his last words, "our day will come, my love."

now...

a choked whimper leaves your mouth. you look down, watching blood slowly soak through your shirt. a single shot. right between your ribs.

the agent responsible takes off, leaving you all alone. you went off on your own. no one was coming to save you. not this time.

you slump to the ground, your head lying against the hard pavement. your eyes squeeze shut, feeling as the life drains from you.

the warm whisper of a summer breeze tells you to not spend your last moments on this earth shrouded in darkness like you'd done for the last year, it tells you to open your eyes, so you do.

brightness bursts forth as you smile up at the blue sky, the sun finally shining down on you. it reminds you of him, of the blue eyes you held so dear. it reminds you of your promise to him. a day that would shine brightly on you, a day for only the two of you.

you’re on the brink of fulfilling your promise.

you lie on the ground, staring up at the sky. tears fall from the corner of your eyes, down to your ear. you look over at the vast, unending horizon, just like you pictured all those years ago.

you smile as warmth consumes you. it's as beautiful and glorious as you promised him it would be. “our day has come, my love.”

Anon's 1K Celebration Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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Ok but like… can you do some yandere NSFW könig headcanons? Like if you disobeyed him and you were crying and scared of the punishment but he has to do it but he’s super horny I’m sorry ignore if it’s too thirsty I’m down bad 😩😩😩

You, me, everyone lol. Thank you guys for being down bad for this anxious bad boy, I love him too ♥

Rated Lemon, 18+

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ If you put huge body mass, anxiety, and social awkwardness in one man, you cannot expect him not to absolutely simp for his darling in any and all ways possible to mankind. Of course, he tries so hard to make you like him and gain your favor until you finally cave in and comply with him asking you to come to him for cuddles. König didn't know he'd get a massive boner the moment you straddle his hips either, but well... now it's there, and he's biting his lip to the point of drawing blood, ready to fall to his knees, begging you not to abandon him once you notice and jump off him. If you don't notice it right away, mistaking the boner for his muscled thighs, you'll probably find out about it from his heavy panting and strangled breaths as he barely lasts a few seconds before cumming in his pants. He's so fucking ashamed and still so fucking hard afterward that it's painful.

♡ I know the real question is: Does he whimper? And tl;dr: He whimpers. It's such a glorious, stammering mess when his cock gets the tiniest bit of attention. König thanks, moans, praises, and then thanks you some more for the opportunity to fuck you, disregarding if you were on board before he started his merciless thrusts or not. Up to climax, he is all but praising the lord for how beautiful, amazing, and enhancing his life you are, and how tight, warm, wet, and well you're taking him. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. Only to then, abruptly, grow quiet, breath halting as his body tenses, a strangled squeak escaping him as his cock pulses inside you, ready to release all this pressure that has built up for years. It might become a problem that he can't shut up in further sessions because he's downright annoying as he goes on and on while you're trying to reach your own orgasm somehow through the awful experience. But if you demand it from him, König will do his damn best, sounding like a miserable squeaky toy every time he thrusts into you and isn't allowed to say something. It's this hard for him to stay quiet.

♡ He's a huge premature ejaculator with too much stamina. No matter the reason you two are fucking—be it out of emotions overcoming you two or because he can't take it anymore and takes you out of uncontrollable need—König is all but over the moon over every touch or breath against his cock. If there's any warmth to plunge into (mouth/pussy/ass), he's cumming from the slightest stimulation, like a lick or his tip sliding in, only to then get a real taste as his hips move on their own, driving his cock deep inside with no restraints and his jizz as the lubricant. There's no holding back once he's inside you either, as he keeps plowing through both of you continuously reaching climax until he's finally satisfied. However, he still cums more times than you do, filling you up to the brim. I blame it on his lack of real-life experience, so over time and training, König, too, will last a little longer. Though this also means there really isn't a way to tease him for the first year of being caught up with him. König just cums from everything you do once he had a taste of you, even if it's just something like you having nothing clean to wear and putting on his shirt. The stains everywhere are abhorrent.

♡ I do totally believe that König's darling is likely his first and last relationship despite the... situation you two have with him kidnapping you and now using you as a cumdumpster as well. So he's still quite inexperienced, BUT he works incredibly hard to please you regardless. There are surprisingly a lot of tutorials these days on how to please your partner, and König is all too happy to try them on you. Making you cum ultimately also makes him cum, but he's genuinely doing it for you first and foremost, and it elates and motivates him to see you shivering and climaxing right in front of his eyes. There's something so satisfying in knowing he can do this to you, and it almost makes König believe if he keeps going, you'll fall in love with him at some point. He's too delusional to know when to stop or listen to you begging him to accept it when you say no. Once he starts fulfilling his desires, there's no way anyone can stop him. It's like fucking you becomes his second way of breathing.

♡ König probably wouldn't use sex as a harsh punishment. However, he really hates arguing with you (it upsets his anxiety badly), so if he finds out that he can stop arguments with his cock or fingers, there's a very high chance he'll use them against you. Listening to your gurgles or moans is like heaven after the hell every argument is for him, so he'd rather 'punish' you by facefucking you or fry your brain by having you hang from his thick fingers until you're a drooling mess. It's a charming way to stop unnecessary bouts of emotions, and once he learns to keep himself more in check, he'll be happy to leave you behind to go about his day after making sure you can't form any coherent thoughts anymore that would cause more arguing. It's like he resetting you back to more peaceful times, and it works well for him.

♡ While König doesn't like anything that can potentially harm you (he believes that sex should be nice and loving and a wonderful experience for you both while he forces you to take him like an animal), he does have his fair share of kinks. He's totally on board with trying everything once as long as it's between the two of you since he really doesn't like sharing you with anyone. His favorites will always be kinks that mark you in some way, be it covering you in cum, biting, scratching, leaving hickies, painting your inside whites (and all the kinks that support this), and watching it drip out of you as if that means you belong to him now. He also loves all kinds of things that enhance the experience, like groping, toys (though he gets childishly jealous of them), forcing you to roleplay (authority kink in both ways, baby!), foreplay sessions, etc. And when he does realize he might have worn you out, König will simply resort to using your worn underwear or getting off between your thighs to finish his session alone. Nothing compares to being inside you, but it's a pleasant alternative every once in a while.

♡ His curiosity, however, has led to a few reprehensible times, too, especially when it comes to applying his strength. His hands are just a bit too big when they wrap around your throat, and had he not snapped out of it, he might have snapped you. The same goes for being so lost in fucking you that he doesn't realize he's accidentally ramming you into the headboard or slamming you into a wall. Sometimes he won't realize he's squeezing the air out of your lungs with his weight on top of you. Occasionally, these things happen, and they ruin the mood for both of you. Worn out by PTSD, things become increasingly dangerous as he remembers moments from the battlefield, even though you are in front of him. It feels like he's trying to crush you with his arms until you panic and scream his name to pull him back to reality and out of the memories of him killing soldiers with his bare hands. König is so devastated whenever he does things like this, trying to get you comfortable by holding you and coddling you even though you want nothing more but to get away from him. He'll cry and apologize so much that the rest of the day is ruined, and he can never forgive himself for confusing you with a damn bastard on the battlefield. No matter how much you struggle, you won't be able to get out of his hold now either, as he needs to feel you as close as possible to know you're okay while he goes through a full-blown anxiety attack over what he did. But hey! At least you're alive... barely.

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savagewildnerness · 21 days

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Oh my word, Lestat has arrived! Oh my WORD! He is ACTUAL LESTAT! His hair! His face! His poignant expression (I’m sure he’s doing existential pondering!!!!) His titled head & cut-throat choker. His JACKET! His wee lo-rise pants! 😁 He is utter perfection! Thank you so much @toriangeli 🥹💗🥀🖤

I have given him his violin so he can get acquainted & begin practising!

You can still adopt glorious Claudia by @toriangeli here -

And @toriangeli is making a Gremlin 18th Century (I think?) Armand at the moment! He’ll be magnificent too!

“…I lifted the violin to my shoulder, braced it under my chin, and lifted the bow. I closed my eyes and I remembered music, Nicki's music, the way that his body had moved with it and his fingers came down with the pressure of hammers and he let the message travel to his fingers from his soul.

I plunged into it, the music suddenly wailing upwards and rippling down again as my fingers danced. It was a song, all right, I could make a song. The tones were pure and rich as they echoed off the close walls with a resounding volume, creating the wailing beseeching voice that only the violin can make. I went madly on with it, rocking back and forth, forgetting Nicki, forgetting everything but the feel of my fingers stabbing at the soundboard and the realization that I was making this, this was coming out of me, and it plummeted and climbed and overflowed ever louder and louder as I bore down upon it with the frantic sawing of the bow.

I was singing with it, I was humming and then singing loudly, and all the gold of the little room was a blur. And suddenly it seemed my own voice became louder, inexplicably louder, with a pure high note which I knew that I myself could not possibly sing. Yet it was there, this beautiful note, steady and unchanging and growing even louder until it was hurting my ears. I played harder, more frantically, and I heard my own gasps coming, and I knew suddenly that I was not the one making this strange high note!

The blood was going to come out of my ears if the note did not stop. And I wasn't making the note! Without stopping the music, without giving in to the pain that was splitting my head, I looked forward and I saw Akasha had risen and her eyes were very wide and her mouth was a perfect O. The sound was coming from her, she was making it, and she was moving off the steps of the tabernacle towards me with her arms outstretched and the note pierced my eardrums as if it were a blade of steel.”

(Lestat & I might do an improvise together to this some day! Gotta let this tattoo heal a bit more first, so maybe not for a bit! 😉🖤🥀🎶🎻)

I have to leave the house now, so I can’t even stare at Lestat all afternoon 🥺, but I can smile in my heart knowing he’ll be here, awaiting my return! 🥰💚🖤🥀

PS I adore chartreuse!

#interview with the vampire #anne rice #amc interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #amc iwtv #iwtv amc #iwtv lestat #iwtv amigurumi

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mumms-the-word · 28 days

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Daydreams

Characters: Rolan x fem!Tav (Fawn) Summary: Rolan's apprenticeship isn't everything he thought it would be. On yet another dreary day of retail, he lets his mind wander to the frustrating adventurer he met at the grove and left behind in the shadow-cursed lands, a beautiful woman named Fawn. A/N: A gift for the AMAZING @orangekittyenergy for her birthday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY friendo!!! Also this is a companion piece, a continuing of this fic about Rolan in Last Light Inn <3

Rolan could taste blood again, coppery and bitter and sharp. It no longer alarmed him. In truth, the taste of blood had become something of a daily occurrence, for one reason if not another. Just another perk of the job, he thought, his mood dark.

He rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, searching for the source of the blood. Two tender spots lined the inside of his right cheek where his teeth had broken through the soft tissue—old wounds, about two days old, from when his master had struck him with the side of his staff for answering out of turn. The spots were sore, but they weren’t bleeding. He kept searching until he felt a sharp but fleeting pain along the side of his tongue. He managed to hide his wince.

He must have bitten down on his tongue, but he couldn’t remember when. Was it when Master Lorroakan had sent one of the books flying toward his head this morning, or more recently when a customer had wasted half an hour of his time complaining about the shop’s herb selection (as though Bonecloak’s Apothecary were not literally across the plaza) and he’d literally chewed on his tongue to avoid yelling that at them? Perhaps it didn’t matter.

He sighed softly through his nose and eyed the potions stocked underneath the counter. They had a few healing potions, and a quick swig from one of them would surely heal his bruised and bleeding tongue…but then he’d have to pay for it.

Or would he? It wasn’t as though Master Lorroakan minded the shop at all. The bastard never came down from the top floor of Ramazith’s Tower, let alone venture outside of the Upper City, even with his magical portals that linked Ramazith’s Tower with Sorcerous Sundries. No, it was Rolan’s job to man the shop, keep track of the stock and proceeds, and listen to customers and adventurers alike complain about everything.

Some glorious apprenticeship this was turning out to be.

He again contemplated the potions but decided against it. He might be the one manning the sales counter, but Master Lorroakan kept an animated armor or two around to keep order, not to mention magical images of himself to test cocky adventurers who thought they could con their way into a reward for the Nightsong. One of them would surely tattle. If Master Lorroakan chose to care, it would mean another “surprise test.”

Rolan wouldn’t be surprised if the surprise test was another myrmidon attack.

He swallowed down the saliva and blood that had mixed on his tongue and tried to forget about the pains in his mouth. And face. And body. He rolled his shoulders to try and ease some of the stiffness there and shifted his weight on his aching feet. Just another few hours and he could close up the shop and return to Ramazith’s Tower. Perhaps his master would be in a better mood today. Perhaps he would finally let Rolan learn a new spell or two. Perhaps…

Perhaps he was just fooling himself.

Since arriving at Baldur’s Gate, he had learned almost no new magic or magical theory, and what little he had gleaned was from books he had attempted to read when Lorroakan wasn’t looking. Instead what he had learned was how to quickly memorize the shifting pricing and stock for Sorcerous Sundries, how to listen to a complaining customer’s every third word to get through the ordeal of listening to them with less of a headache, and that Lorroakan’s Nightsong venture attracted a very particular brand of increasingly stupid imbeciles—sorry, adventurers. There was one outside right now, still shouting at one of the animated armors about the injustice of not getting to personally see Lorroakan.

Get in line. The bitter thought practically crackled inside Rolan’s mind. He rolled his eyes, mostly to himself.

He had half a mind to cast silence over the adventurer, over this entire shop really, and dull the chaotic, neverending combination of spellcasting, customer chatter, and general chaos. The shop was never quiet, what with all the magical items humming or crackling or occasionally catching fire, or the elemental summons they conjured every morning swirling with water or creaking with the full weight of their molten rock forms, or the clanking of the animated armors. There was always something happening inside the shop, something colorful or dangerous. Sometimes it was amusing. These days most of it was just annoying.

He remembered when he thought all the lightly controlled chaos was thrilling. His first day at the shop and at Ramazith’s Tower, finally in a place that would appreciate his talents. Finally somewhere with color and light, unlike those dark and twisted shadow-cursed lands they’d just escaped. But that excitement had quickly faded.

It was hard to maintain a sense of excitement and wonder when his training involved his master lashing out with violence for every wrong answer given to every nonsensical, impossible question. He wanted to be angry—he was angry—but the anger tangled up in his mind until he was never entirely sure if he was upset at Lorroakan for not making sense, or at himself for failing to understand and learn.

These days, very little made sense.

He sighed. What he wouldn’t give to have Cal and Lia here. Just to chat over the counter, if nothing else. But more than that, just to see them again. Ever since Lorroakan had refused to let Cal and Lia join them at Ramazith’s Tower, they’d been off finding work around the city and taking rooms at various inns and taverns. Last he heard, they were trying to find rooms at the Blushing Mermaid, just a few streets away. So close, and yet so far.

He hadn’t seen them in a few days. Either they were busy, or he was. They left notes, and he sent notes back, but he hadn’t seen them physically in a while. He missed them.

But at least they were safe. There had been a moment when he thought they were gone for good. Gone forever. He still had nightmares about it, if he let himself linger on the memories too long.

He folded his arms loosely over his chest, letting his mind wander back to that time, only a few short weeks ago. Most of the early days in the shadow-cursed lands were a haze. A drunken dream he stumbled out of only at the last minute when the shadows attacked him outside the docks of Reithwin. It should have ended with his death.

But then she appeared.

Fawn.

Gods, he was furious when he saw her. Why her of all bloody people in Faerûn?

He smiled a little to himself now, remembering. He’d snapped at her and griped and sulked, and she had just let his words glance off her like flimsy darts against an adamantine shield. Completely unfazed.

He still remembered the look of concern and worry she wore before he’d yelled at her.

Even in that darkness, half-illuminated by his torchlight and the moonlit magic that protected her from the shadows, she had been…lovely. Distractingly so. Even with her eyebrows drawn with concern and the down-turned corners of her mouth, the softness of her lips and hair had distracted him almost entirely. And that distraction had made him angry. How dare she meddle in his affairs again?

But he’d be dead without her. Days of introspection had finally let him admit that to himself. And more than that, Cal and Lia would be dead without her. It was only because of her that they had survived Moonrise and made it out alive.

He shook his head to himself. What an annoying, infuriating, maddeningly baffling woman Fawn was.

He wondered what she was doing now.

Probably wrapped up in some chaotic adventure, no doubt. Chaos and danger seemed to follow her every step wherever she went. Or perhaps she intentionally sought it out. That seemed just as likely.

Maybe one day he could walk into chaos at her side.

He blinked, the thought taking him a little off guard. At her side? He uncrossed his arms and rubbed at his temples. Maybe the stress of retail work was getting to him. It was much more likely he’d never see her again, so what was the point of even thinking about her?

But…he glanced around the shop. All the customers were either busy studying the wares or milling about. No one looked ready to approach the counter just yet, which gave him time to…well. Daydream.

Just for a moment.

He bent and rested his forearms against the counter, allowing his back a brief rest as he let his mind wander back to her. The beautiful Fawn. These were daydreams, right? So anything could happen there.

In his mind’s eye, he pictured her walking into the shop with a crooked smirk on her plump lips, her green eyes glittering with untold mischief. She’d approach the counter and stop, setting a hand on her hip, and tilt her head to one side, her soft brown bangs brushing against her forehead.

You up for an adventure? she might say. Or perhaps, Long time, no see. Or maybe, I thought I might find you here.

He would fondly roll his eyes and respond with something clever. It took you long enough.

And she would laugh. A bright, sparkling laugh that would buoy his dampened spirits, or a sweet, quiet giggle meant only for his ears that would make his calloused heart flutter.

Perhaps he’d get lost in staring. Perhaps he would find himself tracing the line of her nose or the shape of her ears, find his gaze trailing down the scar on her right cheek. Perhaps their eyes would meet, infernal gold with wilderness green, and he’d find in her gaze answers to questions, about her, about the two of them, that he had asked himself a dozen times since they parted in Reithwin. Or perhaps his gaze would linger on her lips, his favorite distraction, and he’d think, not for the first time, not even for the hundredth time, about what it must be like to kiss such lips. To take her mouth with his own and consume her. To pull her body against his and fit himself against her curves and lines, like a puzzle piece locking into place, two parts of one whole.

He straightened up suddenly, hands pressed against the counter, and shifted his weight. He ought to know better than to entertain such thoughts in the middle of a busy work day.

He tapped his nails against the counter, mostly to get out some of the pent-up energy that had been building up inside him. Click-ck-ck-ck. Click-ck-ck-ck. Click-ck-ck-ck. Another noise to add to the din of the shop.

It was a stupid thought anyway, and he was a fool for playing the lovesick idiot in his dreams. Even if she walked through those doors—and she wouldn’t, he was quite sure—there would be no leaving with her. Not with Master Lorroakan holding his leash.

Oh, he could leave whenever he wanted, sure. But that would mean leaving behind the most lucrative apprenticeship he could possibly secure as a refugee of Elturel, not to mention leaving behind all the treasures of Ramazith’s Tower, be that arcane artifacts or tomes rich with knowledge. His place was here—his purpose was to stay here and make a name for himself, to provide for his family, to become the greatest wizard he could possibly be. He had the natural talent. He wanted to hone it into something awe-inspiring. Something that had value so great it would be impossible to ignore or dismiss.

If that meant dealing with Lorroakan and his insanity…so be it. He could endure it. The violence. The impossible questions. The dull inanity of retail work. He could. For Cal. For Lia.

And…in a way, for Fawn. To prove to her that he was as good as his word. That he was a wizard worth knowing, but more than that, to prove to her that he could learn from his mistakes and improve his craft. Perhaps, eventually, to prove that he was a man worthy of her attention.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his cheek, on his tongue, in his back, his feet, and rolled his shoulders. Better get back to work, then.

Back to mindless, repetitive, neverending work.

He was just turning away to check the organization of the trinkets and potion bottles beneath the counter when he heard an all-too-familiar masculine voice at the front entrance.

“Look around you. Indulge your curiosity! Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around.”

Rolan turned his head a little too quickly, scarcely daring to believe it. Gale, that pretentious wizard from Waterdeep? But if Gale were here, then surely—

His eyes fell on her immediately, watching her laugh at something Gale said, or perhaps something the tiefling, Karlach, said. He felt himself go a little slack-jawed with surprise. He wasn’t imagining this, right? That was actually her—Fawn was actually walking into the shop with her companions in tow.

Whatever he had imagined in his daydreams and fantasies, the sight of her there in the real world was far superior. Even his best imaginings couldn’t quite capture the way her hair, tied up and back, swung gently with each step and brushed against her shoulders, or the way she moved with grace and confidence. With her staff secured on her back and her easy smile, she looked perfectly at home among the crackling magic baubles and spell summons as she carefully stepped around a wandering illusion of a crab and looked around the space.

Suddenly the shop felt alight with color and wonder again, with her occupying a space in the room. Was he only imagining a fizzling new magical energy in the room now that she had arrived, or was that simply something that always happened when she entered a room?

Gods, she was beautiful.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak just yet, but it didn’t take her long to notice him. The delight that lit up her features was enough to sustain him the rest of the tenday. “Rolan?”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Fawn! What are you doing here?”

She laughed and jogged over to him. “Well it is called Sorcerous Sundries, isn’t it?” she said with a wink. “I figured I should check it out. What are you doing here?”

“This is my apprenticeship,” he said, shrugging.

“This?” As she reached the counter, she stopped short, her smile fading. “Rolan…”

“It…has not been what I expected,” he admitted, unconsciously lifting a hand to his face. He caught himself before he could touch one of the bruises and clenched his fist, pressing it down onto the surface of the counter. “Master Lo—”

But she didn’t let him finish. She leaned over the counter and cradled his cheek gently in her hand. The touch of her warm skin made all other thoughts fall completely away. There was that look of concern again, the down-turned corners of her mouth, and he felt himself faltering under such a look now where before it had only angered him.

What had he done to earn such compassion from her? After all the times he’d yelled and snapped at her, tried to drive her back or insult her—he may have let his imagination get the better of him, to let himself fantasize that perhaps she would regard him as a friend, or (perhaps foolishly) a would-be lover, but he never actually expected…

“What happened, Rolan?” she asked, her thumb brushing featherlight against his cheek.

Gods, he would give anything to banish that concerned look away and see her smile instead. If this weren’t the middle of his work day, if there weren’t animated armors and Lorroakan illusions watching him at every hour, he’d abandon this counter now and follow her anywhere. But that simply wasn’t an option, and he didn’t feel worthy of it just yet.

Still…

He reached up and took her hand, gently pulling it away from his face. Normally he would let it go, try to push her away, but today…for now…he could take a small risk.

He kept hold of her hand as he lowered their hands to rest on the counter. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said quietly.

He felt his chest tighten as she shifted her hold on him, turning her hand so that she could hold his more comfortably. She didn’t look convinced, but she seemed willing to let the matter rest, at least for now. More than that, she seemed willing to linger.

He offered her a slightly crooked smile and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Enough about me,” he said. “I want to hear what you’ve been up to. Tell me everything, and leave nothing out. It’s not every day the savior of the world comes walking into our humble shop.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing, but settled against the counter, still holding his hand, and began to chat. He smiled to himself as he listened to her recount the latest adventures since they’d last seen one another, content to listen to her voice. The whole time, she never let go of him and she didn’t seem to mind when he began to rub absent-minded circles into her skin with his thumb.

It all felt so natural and easy. Comfortable. Normal. Unlike so much else these days. There was chaos, there was bitterness, there was frustration…and there was Fawn, who felt like a breath of fresh air and the crackling of new energy all in one.

Funny how things change.

If he weren’t physically holding her hand, he might have convinced himself she was just an illusion, something his bored and tired mind had conjured just to get him through another monotonous day. But no, she was here. She was here, and she didn’t look any the worse for wear, and she made the entire room glow with her mere presence.

And she was beautiful.

Maybe one day he would actually tell her that. Out loud, outside of his daydreams.

But not today. He bit his tongue gently on the un-injured side and contented himself with simply listening and holding her hand. Ten minutes ago, he was certain he’d never see her again. Now, it was enough to know she was in the same city as him, adventuring and getting into trouble mere blocks from where he manned this dismal little counter.

The world looked a little brighter now that she had walked into his shop. He could work with that.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRIEND #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #my fic #rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #other tavs #fawn #I hope you love it <3 <3

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pursuitseternal · 4 months

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“A Night with the Ascendant:” truths revealed and a delicious punishment is served

Ascended Astarion x F!OC (Lumina) |E| 5K

Summary: While the Master’s away, Lumina decides to take matters into her own urchin hands. Hooded and cloaked, she finds the book she seeks on the Lower City streets… but Lord Astarion finds her, too. She is willful and reckless and disobedient, and a fitting punishment is required.

CW: Grieving AA, Half-truths, manipulation, orgasm denial, Lumina fails her charisma and stealth rolls, “borrowing her bf’s clothing” for nefarious purposes, AA having too much fun for the first time in centuries.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 4…

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Lumina was everything he ever dreamed someone could be—beautiful, willing, submissive. It was so easy to give her that final ingredient to remake her in his image, to dominate her so thoroughly. It shouldn’t have even felt like manipulation or deception to that matter, she drank the chalice of his blood so eagerly. He remembered the deep scarlet stain on those satisfied lips, the aftertaste of his power in the richness of his blood that lingered on her tongue.

But if she was so entirely his… why did it bother him to no end? He missed that edge of control, to compel her and weave his way into her brain like the beautiful marionette she had been. Where control and order once dictated his life, now all was replaced with… whims and desire.

With her smiles and her guile and her intelligence and her willfulness.

He hadn’t counted on such willfulness. Even if it was to insist on calling him hero. Hells. Heroes didn’t live forever with unrivaled power, needing to spend eternity numbing the pain of life. Heroes laid peacefully in their graves when all was said and done.

Graves like the five cut headstones that spread before him. They had never been this quiet, not when they were alive. The silence of the graveyard grinded at his resolve, eroding that perfect veneer of power and control crafted over two glorious centuries. He was weak right now, remembering the way his eyes would hurt as they rolled back every time Gale rambled… or the edge of sassiness in Shadowheart’s voice when she was peeved… or even Karlach’s hyena call of a laugh.

Instead there was only silence, the growth of moss on their stone tombs, and the rot of time on their remains, the same uncheck grinding of time that had swept them away and left him. Alone. Unaltered and untouched.

For the first time in ages, he stood in the wash of their memories, the ghosts of their voices and laughter and criticism and ferocity. In a moment, he would steel himself over once more, return to that visage of power and dominance and untouchability. But for now, he stood in silent remembrance, his damnable beating heart feeling the sting of emotions he had worked so hard to banish. Loss… grief… affection… desire…

A flash of bright blonde hair and crimson eyes passed through his mind. A tug at their bond that she was somewhere in the city, somewhere up to mischief and no good… if she was this petulant and unruly, why did he love her…

Love.

Hells dammit. He had remade her into something new, something even he had yet to experience in his centuries of vampirism—his Bride. But what was it she was remaking him into now?

Hungry for him, she paced between her suites and his sumptuous chambers. But there was one thing for which she hungered more—knowledge. What in the hells was she?

Every few turns around the room, Lumina paused at the window of his bedchamber, its arching frame overlooking the gardens, and the Lower City beyond. Creeping ivy trellised its way up the ancient stone walls. Every one of her urchin instincts screamed to escape—to reclaim the sun and discover all she could about her new abilities, to try to uncover more about her hero, her tyrant, and her love. She needed information, research.

She needed books. Or at least one. One to unlock what strange transformation had taken place to grant her safety from the sun like him.

How many times had she touched that green leather-covered tome, The Curse of the Vampyr? If only she could run to any book seller, Upper City, Lower City, surely she would find that book or… better yet… one that detailed the tether of a Master and Spawn. Fingers itched, mind whirred. She needed to taste her freedom, to learn what he wouldn’t divulge. Perhaps he would be impressed by her ambition, perhaps he would punish her for defiance.

But he wouldn’t begrudge her that freedom in the sun, not after all that she had just read about his past. Not when it was the same sweet prize he had sought and won to become the magnificent lord he was now.

He could be gone for hours, for all day, she decided. Sharp crimson eyes darted to his wardrobes packed with clothing. Practical clothing. Pants and tunics and cloaks. Maybe just… a quick rummage. Her light, little fingers danced over the rows of his garments, hoping to find something not too ostentatious or decadent. Black velvet trousers tied snug above her hips, a black silken chemise that wouldn’t reveal too much of her breasts with that low-dipped v cut—she was ready to climb and find her quarry.

Shoes slipped off, she knew it would be an easier climb barefooted, besides it’s how she had spent most of her time on the streets anyway. One leg out the window, and Lumina held her breath, that sunlight on her skin invigorated her. It bathed her, warmed her pale skin for the first time in weeks… it made every vein beneath her alabaster skin glow blue, it heated her bones and made her feel alive again.

Free again.

Emboldened by her freedom, she gracefully scampered down the vines. It was so easy to do, so glorious. She smiled to feel her feet in the dirt of the garden and vault over the stone walls back into the bustling streets of the Lower City.

Drawing the hood of his black cloak up over her head, she slunk in the shadows, surely a sight to behold. A small little girl, dressed in a man’s rich robes, stalking around like the urchin she was at heart. Bodies brushed against her on all sides, the pulse of the City, the bustling pace and breakneck ignorance of its populace for urchins like her… it would be so easy now to steal what she wanted.

Giddy, gleeful even, Lumina let her fingers dance into some fat vendor’s pocket to take their purse. It was just so easy, instinctive. Just a bump and an apology, and sure as Balduran’s balls, she was now one purse richer. Maybe a little weapon too… she smirked, mischievous and greedy. Just another helpless victim, another bump into her side and a mumbled apology… and now Lumina’s cool fingers closed around an elegant filigree hilt. She tucked its scabbard into her makeshift belt before continuing on to the closest book cart.

Her deft eyes skimmed the titles from beneath the canopy of her hood. Gold letters glint in the sun, her sharp eyes darting over every spine.

There… she gave a sigh of relief, the title she sought gleamed at her, brighter than a prized jewel. Stepping back, she eyed the cart vendor, a plump, stinking man who looked more interested in drinking than reading. She could practically smell the stale ale on his breath and scent the alcohol that tainted his blood, even from her distance.

Shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of these hypersensitivities, drawing back a pace until she couldn’t smell him anymore. Gagging, she tucked the purse of gold in her pocket; a man like that would be much more fun to rob than to waste her newly acquired money on.

All she had to do was wait…

After a few moments, he got up, lumbering around the corner, and Lumina smiled. Her undead heart would be racing with the thrill of the hunt, that rush of risk and reward, of being victorious or being caught.

Slinking to the far side of the cart, she pulled out the small green book, her quarry. Her steady hand began to slip it under her cloak until….

“What do you think you’re doing?” that stinking, sour breath was hot in her face as the cart keeper snatched her wrist and spun her around.

“Fuck,” Lumina cursed as fear gripped her soul and raced down her spine.

Out of practice, Little Light… she swore she could hear his mocking laughter in her head. Fuck, what would the Master say, she worried as she was dragged into the street.

“You wretched, dirty rat,” the keeper yelled in her face, spittle flying in her face and he yanked back her hood. Arresting the book from her hand, he flung her against the alley wall. “No one steals from me!”

“I have no need to steal,” Lumina lied, even as she caught herself against the brick wall. “My master is Lord Astarion Ancunín, and he will not like having his things manhandled thus.” She snapped, wrenching her hand from the man’s grubby fingers

More spit flew in her face as the man laughed, big and loud and rude. “Yeah sure, some hoity Council Member let his servant run in the streets barefoot to fetch books for them….”

“I fear the lady is right,” a silken purr rumbled from behind them both. Astarion stood, perfect in posture and confident in stance. “My Mistress is prone to such wild fantasies, wandering the street unshod, fetching books on drivel from half-brined booksellers…” Astarion turned up his nose and grimaced as he too took in the foul odor of the rotund man. “Beautiful women have their indulgences, and we must allow them their indulgences. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Astarion smirked, his silver brow quirked high on his forehead as he dangled a fat coin purse at the seller.

“Of course, my Lord,” came the reply as his fat fingers snatched it midair. “Lord Ancunín, I didn’t mean to…”

A withering, crimson stare was all it took to send the fat man fleeing back into the shadows.

“Come, Lumina,” Astarion grabbed her upper arm, firm but with a sickeningly sweet smile, “it’s time we got you home.”

With one last ditch effort, she snagged the copy of her desired book from the seller’s cart, a victorious grin on her pale face as she followed her master into the City’s fray.

Her little arm threaded through his, he walked her towards the Park, his head held high as if the woman on his arm didn’t look like some barefoot vagrant. Finally, he drew them to a stop beside the fountain. His crimson eyes leveled at her, Astarion’s brows furrowed. “Was it worth it, Little Light?” he asked, cold and yet casual in tone.

Lumina fought the urge to tremble. “My little shopping spree?”

“Thieving spree, you mean…” his brow quirked as he pulled out the purloined objects of her own efforts from his own pockets.. He pulled out her purse, her book, and her new little dagger carefully with a wicked, conceited grin, watching in amusement as she patted the places on her lithe, little body from where he had stolen them. “A rogue’s dexterity is not to be outmatched, no matter how desperate or eager you are…”

“Please give those…” she wanted to say more, but his other hand flew towards her face, planting a single finger over her lips.

And Lord Astarion smiled. “Ah ah,” he chided, “explain yourself first, and your punishments may be lessened.” His voice rippled with promise, a teasing and yet desirous tone lacing into his words. “Why does my newborn mistress, a spawn of several weeks now, need to conduct some… research of her own kind?” He set the purse and dagger in his pockets, flipping the pages of the little green book. Pausing, he locked eyes with her, licking his finger first, slow and deliberate, before turning to the next one. “What are you so eager to learn that you could not dare to ask your beloved Master?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she braced her hands on her hips, head tilting up at him in a show of confidence. “I walk in the sun, I can smell things… hear things… I couldn’t before.”

“Such as?” came his nonchalant reply.

“That oaf for one, I could almost taste the effects of his tenday long bender,” Lumina tried not to wretch at the memory. “And then there was the moment where I heard your voice inside my head…”

Something in his gaze shifted, something veiled now lifted, as if he was also surprised. “Indeed,” he purred, thumbing another page of the text. “And you decided to be disobedient and break my rules to seek out this uninformed drivel?” He scoffed, “Not to mention violating a few laws for good measure?”

“If you just gave me answers, Master; if you just gave me my own coin and a dagger, I wouldn’t need to steal them.”

“Oh, pet, I can deny you nothing,” he purred, “unless you might end up harmed in the process. You’re fortunate I stumbled upon you when I did, Lumina, or else you would be rotting in some Flaming Fist cell by now….”

“Pugh,” she folded her arms, that stare growing more defiant. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Astarion couldn’t hide it anymore; his chuckle rumbling in the air between them. It was undeniable, her petulant spark, it made him grin just slightly, that youthfulness that he would have once been drawn to, instead of seeking a way to snuff it as he had done for centuries as Ascendant.

Perhaps he would indulge this spark, just a little more.

A wry look on his face, he extended the book towards her. “If you want it, it’s yours, but in exchange, you’ll be punished, my dear.”

Lumina narrowed her crimson eyes, weighing the cost. She smirked to flash her own fangs, “Alright, I’ll bite.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at her cheap humor. “Puns are beneath us, Lumina,” he scoffed, irascible in tone. “Perhaps I shall extend your punishment for such plebeian humor.”

“And just what will be my punishment?” she goaded, thumbing her way through her hard-won prize. “Once I finish my research, that is…”

“You’ll have your answers, but they aren’t found in that layman’s examination of vampiric bonds. You are a near-secret of our kind, and just as there has never been a Vampire Ascendant before me, there has never been a creation quite like you before.” His eyes darkened with lust and glimmered with impatience. “And there will never be another like you after, I promise.”

Then, his fangs glinted as he grinned wider. “But those answers will only come once I’m through with you. You wish to know your punishment?” He leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “I'm going to make you scream my name until your voice gives out, Little Light.”

His form seemed to ripple, and with a snap of his fingers, they both burst into mist and flew from the Park.

A strange tingle on her skin, or what would have been her skin, coursed through her. Pure magic unmade her, shifted her until all that remained was essence. Wind rushed around her, the sounds of voices and the smells of the Park rushed past her consciousness. It was as if her very being was cradled in his arms. Astarion pushed into her, threading into the very fabric of her existence—everywhere, all at once. Inside her, on her, through her… nothing more tangible than the sensation of his power taking root at her core as he raced them both up his palace walls and into the window of his own chambers.

Gasping like one near-drowned, Lumina once again stood on her own two legs, on her own bare feet, facing his crimson stare of ire.

She winced, surely, he would be brutal, beat her and punish her for her insolence. He would make her scream, he promised, the thought of it making her back sting in anticipation of a lash.

As her old master would, she thought with a pulse of fear and disgust.

Astarion’s presence before snapped her out of that pit of self-loathing. For now, he just tilted his head and gave her that lazy, mischievous smirk. Long, skilled digits grasped her hand, pulling her against him to bring her finger into his mouth. With precision, his fang sliced into its pad, his tongue sucking the blood as it seeped. “Such sticky fingers need cleaning,” she heard him say, right into her mind, his mouth preoccupied and his eyes flashing a dangerous amusement at her shocked expression.

“What in the hells…” she gasped, the thought somehow making him smile around her bleeding digit.

“Oh, darling mistress, seems you have more and more to uncover by the second,” he purred, his voice now a caress in her mind, a tender brush up her spine to tingle her ear. He pulled his finger from her lips with a pop. His true voice was almost sticky with that ripple of danger and the lingering dregs of her blood. “But first, we must see to your punishment, my Light, as delicious as it might be.”

His grip on her waist was firm, guiding her towards his bed again. His teeth glinted as he grinned, that dark mischief shining in the crimson of his eyes. “By rights, you should be cuffed in a cell for thievery. I should know, I once, long ago, gave such sentences for urchins like you.”

Lumina caught it, just a glimpse, a far off look in his eyes, a dower frown, his mind recalling pieces of him so deeply buried by time and pain. Somewhere in her own chest, she could sense that grief, that ancient, nearly-forgotten longing. Then he turned away, and the feeling vanished.

“As your Master, I shall have to take matters into my own hands, I suppose,” he commented, reaching into his drawer, the one where he kept all sorts of things for play and punishment, Lumina knew. She heard his choice before seeing it, the heavy clanking of chains filling her with excitement and dread. “A nice pair of shackles will do, nothing elegant for my little thriving urchin of a mistress.” He rounded on her, the irons in his skilled fingers. “You know what to do, darling,” he just stared at Lumina, a challenge of a smirk on his full lips, eyes darting towards the bed.

Pausing, she waited for the tendrils of his compelling to take root, sought that shadowed presence to command her body, but they never did…

“Well, darling?” he just repeated, firmer and more agitated.

Lumina drew in a breath and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, her wrists in front of her, a smile growing on her face. He shed his decadent coat, his own silken shirt following to lie in a mess on the floor. His boots followed the same fate. “Now, Lumina, you seem rather youthful, bent on willful defiance, this need to discover who I once was and who you are now. Stuff of fools and children.” A chilling smirk on his lips, his eyes still sparked with a sense of mischief, the same she had found with increasing frequency in their fucking. “Since you insist on acting like a child, let’s play a game,” he smirked. “I will ask you a question, a simple one… and if you are correct, I’ll let you find your release…”

The implication as to her failure hung in the air, his hand firmly guiding her to lay in the center of his bed. Her shackles clanked as he drew her arms overhead and bound them to his headboard. His chuckle reverberated in her bones as he leaned to press a kiss on her pressed lips. “Now, here is your question… what are you?”

“If you had let me read my book…” she started to argue, but Astarion just shoved two fingers in her insidious mouth. His gag as effective and sudden, her tongue pressing against him, fighting for breath as he pumped his fingers slightly between her lips.

“Hush,” he smirked at her, condescending and delighted. “You are allowed one answer each time,” his smirk twisted all the darker, “and you just used your first one…” His hands splayed wide on her hips, pulling her taut against her restraints. Fingers dug into her ass, lifting her to rip off his own loosely fit trousers. Her pale legs writhed, rubbing together to already seek the friction she craved. “Ah ah,” he corrected with a low growl, “I’ll be the one to dole out your delicious punishment. Now hold still and take what’s coming to you.”

With that, he lifted her hips up, his mouth ready to lick her and devour that already dripping essence. Tongue parting through her folds, he lapped through her seam, teasing her, toying as he licked and sucked everywhere between her thighs but her hard little bud and her clenching channel.

“Master…” she whined.

He lifted his head slowly, eyes blown wide and dilated as he chuckled. “For what you are, my Light, you get the privilege of screaming my name as you beg and plead.” His tongue danced along the edge of her folds, sucking and nipping the flesh of her thighs until she bucked hard against him.

“Astarion…” she whined, nervous at first, as if unsure she truly had his permission for it.

“Louder,” he crooned his order, letting his breath alone tickle her clit.

“Astarion,” she whined full-throated this time, making him chuckle.

“That’s it, darling, you’ll grow sick of my name on your lips, soon enough, but for now, let’s drive you right to the edge….”

“Fuck!” she cursed, unable to hide her urchin-tongue as his finally swiped over her clit. Relentless, he swirled around it at last, making every nerve ending between her thighs burst into flame. She could feel her wetness leaking, summoned more by every pass of his mouth over her entrance.

But never in it.

“Please,” she yanked on her restraints, “your fingers too, please…”

He merely laughed into her folds, letting his tongue swirl and vibrate against her clit until she was gasping above him.

Then he sat back up, wiping the arousal off his chin with the back of his hand.

Lumina groaned and writhed, that wave of climax once so close, vanished just as quickly. Her little noises of frustration from her pale throat made him chuckle. He rose to his knees, a sinister and delighted smirk on his face. “So close, weren’t you, my darling?” he chuckled again, fangs peeking from his parted lips. “Care for another guess in our little game?” He tilted his head, a hand running through his shoulder-length waves of hair. “What are you?”

“Your obedient, loyal, loving spawn, master,” she answered dutifully. She smiled as he crawled closer, pressing his clothed hips against hers as he lowered into her.

“Tch,” he sucked his teeth, “closer, but still shy of the mark.” He ground his hips against that sopping apex of her thighs. The thick velvet of his pants was soon soaked by her, but he just gave that low, rumbling laugh. “Another round of punishment then, my sweet.” He yanked her by the hair, pulling her head back, his lips brushing her neck where it curved just right for him. “And you forgot to use my name, dear. Not master. Not when it’s just you and me…”

That grinding between her legs made her eyes water, just enough friction to drive her wild, but still not enough. It made her ache. Made her burn. Made her stare up into his face with utter desperation in her own crimson eyes as a few tears dripped down. “Astarion,” she whimpered, more pathetic sounding than she wished.

“Well, when you sound that remorseful, what kind of Sire would I be to deny you some of what you seek…” he crooned, an edge of victory in his voice, a shine of amusement in his gaze. Deft and quick, he unbuttoned his trousers, a low chuckle as he watched her strain against her shackles to watch. She practically drooled for him, her seam leaking in equal amounts of wet to finally feel that pressure inside her.

Gods, she was beautiful, wanting him.

“You’re so perfect, Lumina,” he growled, “and you’re so totally and utterly mine…”

Her shriek pierced the quiet of his palace, a heady mix in her tone of ecstasy and relief as he filled her to the hilt in one thrust. His breath was hot against her neck, his hands skating his nails down her sides, “But remember, my Light, you don’t get to come until I say you may…” His tone was venomous and playful, a promise and a dare all wrapped in the velvet notes of his voice. A slow, grinding pace he set, taking his time to savor every flutter of her walls. It would be quick, he grinned, letting his hips slowly roll into her, he didn’t have long to push her right to the edge once more….

“Think hard… my dear… just what are you?” his question rumbled in her ear, gravel in his voice making her shudder hard beneath him. He groaned, quickening his pace, his own need for release taking root. Easy, he warned himself, his eyes locked on her face, observing every clench of her jaw in bliss, every gasp she made as she grew closer and closer…

Just as her body began to buck and clench, his cock slipped out, his hand wrapped hard around it. His fist beating his length was good, but her cry of anguish was all the more exquisite, sending that burst of pleasure from his core to race through him as he came. Cum spewed out on her belly, her hips bucking and grinding before him as she bemoaned her fate.

“Fuck…” she cursed through clenched fangs, sweat dripping down her angelic face. “Balduran’s… balls…” she tried to clench her thighs together, but his hands pried them apart so easily.

That made him laugh, breathless and a bit exhausted through his open mouth. “Having met the legend myself, I doubt he would appreciate you speaking thus of his balls. And I certainly don’t approve of you speaking of anyone else’s either, pet…” his fingers stroked through her hair gently before giving her head a corrective yank. “My balls will just have to be enough for you for eternity.”

She stared at him, a mix of frustration and longing that set his heart racing again.

“Now, let’s try this question one more time for now, before I leave you to contemplate your choices, my love.” His gaze skimmed the sight of her half-naked in his bed, his own black silk shirt stained now from his seed and her sweat. “Think hard, my cunning Little Light, what… are… you?”

Lumina chewed her lip, her gaze flickering around his room, lost in thought as she considered her response wisely. “You said I was your… mistress… not your spawn, not your concubine…”

“That’s what I said,” he purred, sliding his fingers through his cum, gathering it on his fingers before he teased it into her folds. “My question, love, is what do you think you are now?” He let the slick sounds of his fingers inside her distract that train of thought she was clearly attempting to recover. “Well?” he insisted, catching her clit with his thumb and making her gasp another curse.

She seemed to relax, a serenity in her gaze, a softness around her mouth as she tilted her head most alluringly. “Yours… I’m yours,” she whispered, toneful and beautiful in its submission.

“Mmmm, a beautiful proclamation,” he crooned but withdrew his touch and stood from the bed, regardless. Flashing her a wicked smirk, he savored the look of devastation on her pale countenance. “While I thoroughly enjoy such a confession, it’s just… not quite the response I seek.” Fastening his trousers, he shrugged his shoulders, smiling twistedly like that arrogant bastard he truly was.

“Astarion, please!” she panted, wretched and devastated as she could only watch him depart.

He paused at his wardrobe, choosing a new shirt, sliding that crisp cream silk over his immaculate body as he turned one more time. “Don’t fret too long, my love. I’ll return soon. In the meantime, you can use your time wisely. Weigh your answers… Oh, and you can use this, if you can manage to open it, that is.” He tossed her that green-covered book, the title accusing her as it landed just within reach of her bound hands. The Curse of the Vampyre, indeed. He laughed merrily, low and rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you later, I’m sure, darling.”

The thud of the door shutting behind him only spurred Lumina into action all the quicker. She would give him his answer and earn her release. Physically and carnally.

Hours it seemed creeped by, that little book her only distraction from the arch of her arms and the wet, lingering burn between her thighs. She awkwardly flipped pages, dropping it on her face from time to time when the shackles got in her way. Page after page revealed nothing new, and she cursed Astarion for being right, dreading how he would preen and gloat when she admitted defeat.

Food sources… seduction… vulnerabilities… that section no longer applied to her, she furrowed her brow. The creation of a spawn… the nourishment of her kind…

That made her hungry belly growl, and as if she wished it into existence, she smelled blood. The door creaked open, and Lumina fixed her gaze on the silver cup brimming with blood.

Only once that chilling laugh sounded from its bearer did Lumina glance at who held the cup.

“Morana,” she hissed fangs bared as she tried to hide her half dressed state.

“I just couldn’t resist the opportunity to replace a poor, freighted servant from entering the Master’s chambers to bring you your meal at his orders,” the tiefling’s dark eyes glimmered with hatred, her voice like vitriol as she sarcastically pouted and preened, “Is the Master’s Bride starving?”

“The… Master’s what?” Lumina went deathly still. There had been one line that book… the unknown characteristics of a Sire’s Bride or Groom. She had thought nothing of it an hour ago. “What did you just call me?”

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 2 years

Text

Blood of my Blood pt.2

Pairing- Sully family x Sully!reader

Summary- There is so much you would do for your family even at a young age but there is one thing you just couldn't do so you do the only thing you find reasonable you run.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Two months. Two months worth of traveling to the clans around Pandora. From the beautiful reef of the Metkayina, to the wetlands to the Hulanta clans and even to the unseen Rey'tanu clan that live in the highlands. Jake was tired and today was no different.

Other than physically tired he was mentally tired as well. What dwelled in his mind was what Mo'at told him before their departure, the closer they got to the Mangkwan the more he felt this sickening twist in himself. And he wasn't the only one who felt this Neytiri felt off. She didn't know what was going on but she hoped she could figure it out for her family's sake.

The pack of ikrans stopped in front of a hometree similar to the one they remade back home just before you left. Jumping off and disconnecting from them they were greeted by a rather small group. ''Oel ngati kameie JakeSully Olo'eyktan, Oel ngati kameie Neytiri Great warrior of the Omaticaya.'' A woman spoke to Jake as she formally greets them as does his family.

She held her head high with short locs that stopped at her ear, and her long skirt had slit sides that showcased her tattoo that swarmed around the scar that was on the side of her right thigh, her top was beaded with warm colors of orange, red, yellow. She was glorious.

''I am sorry that Kamun and Peyral haven't come to met you formally my name is Newey friend and trusted warrior of the Mangkwan they have asked to escort you to the playing fields.'' Newey said to them as the guards on stand opened the door allowing them into the hometree. ''Playing fields?'' Neteyam asked and Newey smiled. ''Yes playing fields today there is to be a tournament although it is a shame you didn't come earlier they are at the last round.''

Newey stood in front of a door and opened the large door with little struggle. ''That was so cool!'' Tuk the youngest exclaimed and a grin placed upon Newey's lips as she ruffled the young girl's hair and walked into a great field that was filled with Na'vi of all ages.

''Here they are.'' Newey whispers as she stepped under a tent that was slap dead in the middle of the seats of Na'vi. ''Oel ngati kameie Peyral and Kamun your guest have arrived.'' She spoke to them as their eyes moved from the fight in front of them and the woman Peyral smiled at the family as she ushered them to sit, which they did. ''What the rest of the tournament you must want to relax after the flight, here fermented nectar and fruit let us talk over dinner.'' Peyral said as she gave Neytiri a glass of fermented nectar.

Neytiri and Jake sat- with Tuk in his lap- on the unaccompanied chairs next to Peyral. The others surrounded the area around them standing up as they watched the fight in front of them.

It was one on one combat, it looked ridiculous to the newcomers. There was a small warrior who couldn't see their face from the metal that covered half their face and the way it drooped down, and a huge man who wore nothing but his loincloth and welded an ax that looked like it had seen some battles. He was the first to pounce and the warrior missed it by mere inches sliding their spear on the ground and under the man's foot making him stumble slightly. Many cheered and many booed.

The man got up, puffing his chest out and gripping the ax. Pouncing forward again and the other missing it again but this time he caught onto their legs throwing them to the other side. Gasping the warrior gripped their spear. Standing up fixing their posture they get in an attack stance, ''Arms to the side,'' Jake whispered as he saw the warrior do what he said. ''Grip your weapon.'' gripping the weapon the warrior jumped over to the side hitting the man in the middle of his back making him fall down in pain. He flipped over onto his back as he stared up at the blade of the spear in his face until he hit the ground in defeat.

Kamun stamped his own spear on the ground and cheered for the victory. ''He's really good.'' Lo'ak said and Neteyam shook his head in agreement. Jake couldn't help but swell with pride for an unknown reason. The warrior stepped in front of Peyral and took the helmet off and it was you. After wiping the blood that fell from your mouth you smiled and Peyral gave you a tight hug before Kamun gave you a pat on the back and bowed his head.

''Next time Otho.'' You yell to the man who gave you a smile. Lo'ak was in disbelief you were a girl, ''I knew girls could fight but not like that not against a beast like that!'' He exclaimed coming towards you. You squint your eyes at the boy before a confused smile landed its way onto your lips. ''Otho? Oh he's just a gentle giant.'' You say and smile at Otho as he walks to his home hand in hand with his daughter.

Jake studied your face and blinked his eyes over and over again. You were the spitting image of well you, but he couldn't he wouldn't let himself believe it but the more he looked at you the more you seemed like you.

Kamun and Peyral share a knowing look as your eyes land on Neytiri and Jake and your once happy mood turns sour. Your nostrils flared as they stood up and then Neteyam and Kiri got closer, transparent eyebrows furrowed. It was as if they were observing you, analyzing you. ''Y/N?'' It sounded like a question that they didn't answer.

''Thats my name.'' You say looking at the family who all shared a bewildered look except for Tuk who was only confused.

Jake and Neytiri look at Kamun and Peyral who only look at you with regret for not telling you of their plans to come here.

''Our daughter has been here the entire time!'' Jake hissed at Peyral who explained what happened all those years ago but you only sat in silence wanting this all to be over. and Kamun was quick to clap back. ''Do not speak to my mate like that.'' He hissed and Jake only glared at him. ''Why did you not send her back?'' Jake asked and as he sat next to his family in the home. ''I wasn't going to send a little girl back to a place that she seemed to not want to go back to.'' Kamun said as he sat next to Peyral.

Neytiri was conflicted. She was happy, over the moon but she was sad you left and never looked back and you had a new life here.

''Y/N.'' Your father said and you look at him with no childlike gleam like the last day you spent with him. ''Yes.'' You spoke clearly and proudly. ''Why?'' He asked.

Jake had never felt so sad in his life; his daughter has never felt so close yet so far from him.

''I do not wish to speak about it, may I go lay down.'' You ask Peyral and she nods. ''Y/N we think it best if you show your siblings around, show them the ropes and what goes on around here.'' Kamun said and you bow your head in agreement before you turn to your family with no emotion on your face as it has been all night. ''See you tomorrow.'' You say flashing a small smile to Neteyam.

They all were lost. You acted like nothing happened, like you didn't run away, like they didn't have to exist like you didn't exist, how they thought you were dead.

You acted like nothing happened.

Tags- @ssc7514 @23victoria @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @chaoticmagazineboard @spicycloudsalad @ilovejakesullysdick @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @neteyamforlife @phoenixgurl030 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @kikookii @elegantkidfansoul @kurtsworld096 @bucky1235 @dizzythediasy @ducks118 @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @arianapntn @hellok1ttycake @tsireyak @ambria @dimplesxx @v4mp1rr3 @ughits-kayla @lilgurlbeoncrack @t3ddyhon3y @sillyfreakfanparty @mentallyillmexican @dreamsholdpowers

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cressidagrey · 3 months

Text

Indelible Scars - Chapter 12

Summary:

Azriel knew pain. So did Galena.

Also known as: Azriel’s mate is a healer and the first time they meet, he nearly dies on her.

Warnings:

Irresponsible use of Sleeping Potions

(thanks to @cafekitsune for the super pretty dividers!)

Azriel didn’t know what he had done in his life to deserve this.

To deserve her.

His. His. His.

His.

His blood sang with it. His mate. His.

Galena .

His head rested on her lap, her fingers slowly and carefully running through his hair, scratching at his scalp…

If Azriel had ever believed in paradise, he was quite sure he had found it. Right there in his bed, with his mate’s warm body splayed out underneath him…

It was less scandalous than it sounded.

She was completely dressed, his head rested on her lap, in the midst of soft linen skirts, his wings were splayed out behind him and she touched him and watched like she couldn’t quite believe that…that he was real.

It was a sobering thought.

She couldn't believe that he was real and that he hadn’t turned her away, regardless of how ridiculous that notion was.

Granted, he saw the scars that covered every inch of her body that he could see.

Burn scars, just like his own.

Covering her from her scalp down to the very tips of her fingers, saw how the scars curved over her features, how one corner of her mouth would always hang down, unable to tip up even when the rest of her face was smiling. He saw her left eye, which was milky and grey and with which she was nearly unable to see…he could see the way the scar tissue was gnarly and uneven, like the roots of a tree…like his own hands.

A matched set.

Like calls to like.

But he could also see that beautiful dark brown eye that watched him, belying the shrewd intelligence that lay behind her eyes…he could see the thick, dark brown hair that fell to her collarbones…he could listen to her soft voice and hear her laughter, like a tinkling bell.

She was beautiful in a way the scars couldn’t touch.

Utterly glorious.

He couldn't foresee circumstances where that opinion was ever going to change.

His fingers twitched with the want to touch her, to feel the rest of her body underneath his hands, to feel her in the throes of her pleasure…even when he knew that he shouldn’t. They should take this slow. It was the smart thing to do. And it was greedy to even think like that, especially now, now when he just got her.

When he just…

“Do they hurt?” she asked her, her voice melodious, even if still quiet.

Always quiet. He wondered if she ever would raise her voice at anybody or if she didn’t need to.

He knew what she was asking with that sentence, there was no question about it.

The scar tissue that covered his fingers oftentimes felt too tight, like a glove that didn’t quite fit. But she would know that. Galena would know all about it.

There was no reason to hide them from her.

She caught his hand in hers and he let her lift it to her face, turning it around and looking at it. Her expression changed and he wondered if that was the Healer that had seen to him. Was that the difference? The eyes that wandered and took it in near analytical, that thought through options and then came up with a treatment plan

He wondered how she worked, but that was something that he would get to see, wasn’t it?

If he didn’t completely mess this up…then he was going to see her do her job for decades to come.

“They…The skin is tight,” he quietly admitted to her.

“I can fix that,” Galena said immediately. She reached out for a jar on the other bedside table. “My skin gets dry sometimes…and then the scars hurt,” she admitted to him. He swallowed.

She did understand it.

He wouldn't need and try to explain it. Because she would get it. Of course, she would.

“Yes,” he answered hoarsely, as she unscrewed the jar, the scent of lavender wafting over him.

“I made this balm,” Galena explained. “It’s going to keep the skin supple…help with the tightness you feel…" A cooling salve was very gently rubbed on his skin. Galena made sure that she covered every inch of his hands, every nook and cranny, rubbing it over every joint and his knuckles, sweeping it over the palm of his hands…He became putty in her grasp.

He didn’t care what she did as long as she didn’t stop that.

And just as she talked, he could feel the tightness ease.

“I can make you your own…I just like the smell of lavender,” she said softly. “Whatever scent you want…I just can’t make it scentless. Tried that and utterly failed,” she told him drily and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Peppermint?” he requested softly. Like her. Peppermint just like his mate.

“Peppermint has a nice cooling sensation. That could work very nicely,” Galena agreed, her voice thoughtful. “I’ll start a batch when I go home,” she promised him. He held her a bit tighter at the words, regardless of how ridiculous that was.

Of course, she was going to go home. Soon.

“You know…you could come visit me,” she teased him. “You’ll even need to, because I can’t walk up the ten thousand steps and I also can’t fly…you have the wings,” she quipped and he couldn’t help but preen slightly, flaring them out behind her, much to her amusement.

Another giggle from her. The sound so perfect.

“I’ll come visit,” he promised her. He would come to visit her so often that she would be sick of him. “Where do you live?” he wondered.

“Above the apothecary, just like Aunt Madja,” she told him easily. “The attic is mine…so I can go to work without anybody needing to see me.”

There was anger burning low in his gut at how she said that. Like it was normal, so matter of factly…Like she was doing everybody a favour if nobody needed to see her.

It made him utterly furious.

“But I’ll make you that balm and…” she trailed off. He watched her, watched emotion war on her face… “We need to have a talk,” she finally said quietly. “You’ll need to have a talk with your brothers as well, but we...us...we need to have a talk.. about the fact you self-medicated with Sleeping Potions for the last 6 months.”

He had.

He could feel the shame rise in him, even when she still looked at him, her face open and not judging him in the slightest.

“I couldn’t fall asleep,” he said, his voice, and she cupped his cheeks.

“Your shadows said so,” she responded, her voice even.

*She asked, master,* The shadows whispered softly. *She just tried to help, master.*

He couldn’t even fault them for that.

“You are aware that Sleeping Potions are just a last-ditch effort, right?” Galena asked him gently. “When you tried everything else, then you go for the Sleeping Potions.”

He had known that. But he hadn’t cared.

“I did. I tried,” he told her softly. “But... I was just…I was so tired,” he admitted.

“Alright.” She took him at his word. “Now. I am going to be the only one who brews them for you. I’ll give you a dozen or so. And I trust you that you don’t take more than 3 a week to start. We’ll use a different recipe and we’ll taper them off. Until you won’t need them anymore,” she told him, her voice quiet but strong. “And if you ever take them from another healer, I am going to be very cross with you, alright? We are going to get a handle on this,” she promised him fiercely. “You were poisoning yourself and you didn’t even know that. Taking five different ones, each with different ingredients and recipes isn’t good for you.”

Right.

“I didn’t care,” Azriel admitted quietly. She looked at him for a moment, shock splaying out over her features.

“I care,” she told him harshly. “Your brothers care. Cassian came to me, ready to beg to save your life,” she told him fiercely. “So you are better going to start to care that you come home to me .”

Oh, he wanted nothing more than to come home to her.

And something inside him was too pleased by how fiercely she demanded his return.

“I care now too,” he promised her. “I want to come home to you.”

She harrumphed, the sound in sharp contrast to the small little female that she was. And she was small. Fine boned like a bird. Somebody he could break one-handed. And still, he knew that there was steel in her spine underneath it.

“I can’t be your only reason for that. I can be one of your reasons. But not the only one,“ Galena said quietly.

He could understand that worry…and he didn’t want to put that pressure on her, even when the first time he had heard her voice, somehow she had become the guiding star in his life, the one his decision would make after it…the one that would centre him.

“And if I say that it’s because I want a life with you?” Azriel asked her softly. “If I say it’s because I want to live a few more centuries because I want to see what the world has to offer with you by my side?“ She looked at him for a moment and then leant down and pressed soft lips to his. A sweet little kiss. Chaste and Promising.

“I want a life with you too,” she agreed softly, a blush high on her cheeks. “I…I want this to work.”

He did too.

“Do you want to talk about what caused the insomnia?“ she asked him and he sighed.

Azriel knew that one day in the future he would need to tell her the full story. Of what exactly he did for the High Lord of the Night Court… about Rhys and Cassian and him…about Morrigan and about Elain.

But…not right now. Not like this.

“I…I am going to tell it to you. One day,” he promised her. “Soon even. I swear…but…Not today. Not when I just got you.”

He begged her to understand and she pursed her lips and clearly thought it through.”

“Alright,” she gave in, to his surprise. He hadn’t expected that.

“Soon. When you feel all better,” Galena said pointedly. “And after you have talked to your brothers.”

He was not looking forward to that conversation, even when he knew that it must happen…even when he knew that that was something all three of them needed so that they had a clean slate to move forward with.

Still…

“When you feel all better…then you are going to tell me exactly what happened. And we are going to find a solution for your sleep problems.”

He had half a mind to tell her, that he was pretty sure that gelana was going to be the solution to all his sleep problems. Especially if it meant that she would sleep in the same bed as him, curled up under one of his wings and he could make sure that his mate was safe and protected and content and happy.

That she was right there. Then he could sleep as well.

“I promise,” he pledged and her face softened, a hand gently stroking his hair out of his face.

“Do you think Cassian fell into the cooking pot?” Galena asked him suddenly and he snorted before he started laughing.

“No,“ Azriel promised her. “I think he is just wondering how long he should leave us alone until he can be sure that we actually talked,” he told her, amusement leeching into his voice.

“Well, he managed that,” she quipped.

“You know, I have plenty of things that I want to talk to you about, and none of them involve my brothers,” he pointed out and she laughed, the sound careless and utterly happy.

She nearly shone with her happiness.

“And here I was thinking, you wanted to do something other than talking,” she pointed out with a grin, a twinkle in her eyes…

And Azriel may was an idiot, and he may even been a fool…but he was a fool in love.

And so he took her suggestion, and sat up to kiss his mate properly, to feel her giggle and her lips curve against his in a smile.

And for one moment, all Azriel knew was pure, undiluted happiness.

#acotar fanfiction #indelible scars #indelible #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction

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lovelywritinglady · 1 year

Note

can you do uzui x reader where yn hade a miscarriage and is in a depressive state thank you

Miscarry

Uzui Tengen x fem!Reader

ANGST, mentions of miscarriage, implied relationship with the other 3 wives, mentions of depression/depressive thoughts, mentions of blood.

First person pov

The day was crisp and the air was fragrant with the smell of freshly bloomed cherry blossoms. It was a perfect day to go walking around the large estate that my husband and my wives and I live at. I’m currently four months pregnant with a baby. All of us are excited for them. I’m the first one of the girls to get pregnant by Lord Tengen. He’s been such a caring husband to be over the course of these four months. I know I have sometime to go, but I’m already so in love with them.

The sun was beginning to set and the vibrant colors of the day were shining through like a glorious painting. I always loved the sunset it made me appreciate the day before the night. For night was when the demons come, but my husband is a hashira, so I have nothing for fear. He was not home and neither were my wives at the moment. The only ones here were me and our housekeeper that my husband payed to stay over to keep and eye on me. Her name was She’s an older woman who has been working for us for a few years. She’s had children of her own and had even given me a few tips for when my child comes to this world. So I was thankful for her being there with me.

I began walking back to my beautiful home when our cat Mochi ran underneath my feet causing me to trip. Using my reflexes I caught myself before I fell on my stomach but the fall was still painful because I fell on the sharp rocks that lay around my house.

“Damn cat, you’re lucky you’re cute and I love you.” I exclaimed to Mochi

“Lady Y/N are you alright?” Mrs. Misaki exclaimed as she ran down the steps to help me up.

“I’m quite alright the cat ran underneath my feet, but I caught myself.” I assured her

“I’m very glad you caught yourself, but you need to be more careful.” She sternly told me as her hand touched my belly gently.

“Yes Mrs. Misaki I promise I will.” I said smiling at her protectiveness.

“Come on in I made us dinner.” She said as she began walking to the house with her hand holding mine.

We walked hand in hand into the home. She promptly sat me down and told me she’d be right back with dinner. I asked her if I could help as she was and older woman and I am still able to do things without it being difficult for me. She told me that I’m doing enough just by carrying the child. I thanked her for her kindness and watched her walk into the kitchen. A few moments later she returned with our food of rice, seaweed soup, and stewed chicken. We have thanks and began eating our food. I began to feel slightly ill, but I dismissed that because being pregnant has been throwing me off lately.

“Lady Y/N, you look pale I think it’s best that you go get some rest.” Mrs. Misaki suggested in a motherly tone.

“As good as this food is, I think you’re right.” I sighed

“Let me help you up dear. And don’t worry about the food, I can heat it up for you later.” She spoke with a smile.

She then got up and helped me out of my chair. I felt lightheaded and the room was spinning slightly. And my knees buckled and I fell into her arms shaking slightly.

“Oh dear!” Mrs. Misaki said sadly as she looked down at my legs.

“What is it?” I questioned nervously

“We need to get you into the tub right now my Lady, it’s urgent.” She said pulling me towards the bathroom.

“Why what’s going on?” I said while looking into her eyes.

“My Lady, you are bleeding heavily and you need to get in the tub.” She persisted and we made our way into the bathroom.

She then undressed me and sat me in our tub. I then saw the blood pooling at my feet. My heat was racing and I felt the sweat beginning to kiss my face. My vision began to blur. Mrs. Misaki was trying to talk to me but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I felt myself slipping out of consciousness with the only thought in my mind…my baby.

The Next Morning

“Y/n…Y/n…Y/N..” I hear a voice next to me say.

I open my eyes to be greeted by my wives all sitting next to the bed. The all looked just as beautiful as always except their normals cheerful faces held a pained look on them. This caused me to worry. Did our husband get hurt? Did the mission go south? All my thoughts were interrupted when my husband came in the room along with Mrs. Misaki.

“Lord Tengen is everything okay?” I questioned as my words came out weakly.

“I’m so sorry love. I just need you to know that this isn’t your fault and from what Mrs. Misaki says this just happens. I’m just so sorry that it happened to you.” He spoke to me. He then leaned forward and kissed my head with such tenderness that my eyes began to tear up. I was still confused on what what going on. My mind still a blur from the night before.

“What’s going on. Can someone please tell me? Is the baby okay.” I questioned looking at my family.

“Y/N I’m so sorry, love. But you had a miscarriage. The baby is gone.” Hina said wrapping her arms around me.

“What!” I examined. My mind spinning.

“Lady Y/N, please you need to calm yourself.” Mrs. Misaki pleated.

“How could this have happened? What did I do wrong?” I exclaimed frantically looking for answers.

“Love it wasn’t your fault. Please you need to understand that.” Suma said tears pouring out of her face.

“Exactly, it’s going to be okay. We are all here for you.” Makio reassured.

“I killed my baby.” I whispered

“No sweetheart you didn’t.” Tengen spoke shedding a tear. His hand made its way to my face stroking it gently.

“Yes I did!” I exclaimed smacking his hand away.

“Y/N please this isn’t your fault.” He urgently said.

“Please go away all of you.” I said as I turned away from them and buried my face into the bed. My tears were flowing hard and I chocked a sob. My heart ached knowing that my baby wasn’t alive anymore.

One Month Later

My baby was gone and I’m no longer a mother. Everyone has told me that it wasn’t my fault and that I didn’t kill the baby, but I can’t help but feel like I did. I hated myself for it. I don’t eat anymore and I can’t sleep as much. My hair is less full as before and I think I’ve lost a lot of weight. Everyday feels the same since we all buried the baby, which is also the last time I left the house. Their grave is next to my husbands siblings at the Uzui family shrine. I haven’t gone to visit my baby’s grave. I’m too ashamed to show myself there. Mrs. Misaki has been working overtime making sure I’m okay and eating. My lovers have been too, but all I want to be is alone. I don’t wish to see anyone, especially my husband. I’m the reason he won’t have a child to hold soon. I know the others can get pregnant, but it’s dangerous with their line of work right now. I came from a merchant family and one day Uzui and I met and soon I found myself married to him and his beautiful wives.

The pit of guilt in my stomach grew. They took me in and kept me safe and took care of me. And I couldn’t even keep a baby alive. My eyes were so puffy and tired from all the crying I’ve done that I burns to cry now. Turning over, I curled up in a ball placing a hand over my empty stomach longing for my baby.

“Love?” I hear the sweet voice of my wife Hina.

“I brought you some food. Please eat something you need to regain back your strength.” She said placing the tray of food on the bedside table. She then placed her hand in my hair stroking it affectionately.

“Not hungry.” I grumbled

“Okay, well I’ll leave it right here for when you are. It’s just some rice and vegetables.” She spoke

“Thank you.” I responded feeling bad for not speaking that much with her.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I just need you to know that I love you so much. I loved the baby too, we all did. I’m just so sorry that you had to go through that. I’m here for you whenever you need. I’ll let you get some rest. Please eat something.” She spoke sincerely as she got up to leave.

“I love you too Hina.” I whispered hoping she’d hear it.

Two Months Later

I’ve begun to heal more after losing my baby. I’ve gained a little bit more weight due to my wives and Mrs. Misaki’s pestering. I still feel like it’s my fault, but that thought is no longer an all consuming one. I still long for my baby. I never knew their gender or held them. I never even gave them a name. I guess you can say I miss someone I’ve never even met. I decided to go out and enjoy the morning. I glanced around my room to see my lovers sleeping next to me on their beds. Quietly, I got up and walked outside. It was still too early for Mrs.Misaki to come to our home, so I was essentially alone until my lovers woke up.

I breathed in the fresh dewy morning air. Letting rising sun kiss my face and the chilly air nip at my skin. Shedding a few tears down my face, I thought about my baby. Still wishing they were alive. I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky smiling. I wondered if my child was there being taken care of. I then heard footsteps and I looked to see who they belonged to. To my surprise it was my husband in all his flashy persona. Normally on days like this, he would be sleeping still. So I was very glad to see him here.

“Good morning, Lord Tengen.” I greeted him with my morning voice.

“Good morning, love.” He smiled as he sat behind me. His legs draping down the steps as his big arms wrapped around me. His chin then rested on my shoulder as he kissed my cheek.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered

“You have nothing to be sorry for. What happened wasn’t your fault.” He reassured

“I feel like it was.” I said

“It wasn’t anyones fault. It just happened and I certainly don’t blame you. If anyone is sorry it should be me.” He stated

“Why?” I questioned confusion lacing my tone.

“I wasn’t there for you when you really needed me. I should’ve been there for you when you were going through that. I’m just glad the old lady was there.” My husband stated sadly

“You were saving people, my love. This was not your fault. You couldn’t have known.” I said trying around to look him in the eyes. They were glossy and filled with the same sadness that I’ve been plagued with for months.

“You couldn’t have known either. So how was it your fault?” He questioned as he held my face with such tenderness.

“I tripped and that’s what killed them.” I stayed pushing my head into his chest.

“My mother has told me that she fell down many times and even fought off a demon once when she was pregnant with me.” He stated with a chuckle while his right hand lifted my face so I could look once more into his eyes.

“So you did not kill our baby.” He said kissing me softly. After we broke from our kiss, I hugged him sobbing into his chest. He then cried too it wasn’t as loud as mine, but I knew he heart broke too.

“Why don’t we go visit our baby. Just the two of us?” He suggested chocking back a sob.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I whispered

After a while we made it to our baby’s grave. I had a bunch of fresh flowers that we had picked on our way to the cemetery. The day was truly beautiful and calm. As we stood by our baby’s grave hand in hand, I said a silent prayer for them. I then let go of his hand and knelt down touching the headstone. I kissed it and placed the flowers in front of it. I felt Tengens hand rub circles on my back.

“I loved our baby Y/N” He said

“As did I.” I responded

“You would’ve been the best mother. I’m very sure if that.” He said kneeling down with me.

“I guess we’ll never know.” I said sadly.

“This might be too soon for me to say, but if you wanted to try again I think it would be okay. But we would only try again on your terms. And If you never wanted to, I understand that too.” He spoke tucking a lose strand of hair behind my ear.

“One day maybe, I’m just not ready for that. And what if I lose the next one?” I questioned

“If that happens again I promise I will be there for you. I never what you going through that and I’m not there to help you.” He said with determination in his tone.

“Thank you.” I said as I couldn’t think of what to say at that moment.

“I love you. And I’m always going to protect you Y/N. You’re precious to me and I just want you to know that everything will shine brighter one day.” My husband spoke picking me up and cradling me into his lap.

“I love you too.” I spoke nuzzling my face into his neck.

My eyes felt heavy being so close to him. He was always for comforting. Closing my eyes, I thought of our child walking towards all of us. We all have bright smiles on our faces and Suma has tears in her eyes watching the walking for the first time. Smiling at that thought I fell asleep in my husbands arms getting some much needed sleep.

Thank you so much for reading💜 I hope this was enjoyable for the person that requested this. Thanks to you!

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#tengen uzui #uzui tengen x reader #tengen x y/n #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen x you #demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #angst #miscarriage #uzui x you #uzui tengen x y/n #uzui x reader #uzui x y/n #uzui wives #uzui family #uzui tengen #tengen x reader

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writtenonreceipts · 23 days

Text

Rowaelin Month Day Two: Spies/Heist @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // AO3 Link

Inspired mostly by Leverage but also White Collar

Will be a mix of being set in the US and with Terrasen being a real place bc I can be more lenient with history and art and such this way. Just go with it.

Summary: She’s a thief with only one thing on her mind: finish the job and move on. When she’s asked to break into Terrasen’s Museum of Art, Celaena has her doubts. Mostly because she’d much rather be grifting her way across Europe. But when she learns what needs stealing? Well…her schedule clears right up. Enter the client, a pain in her ass.

Warnings: None, ~3.6k words

.*.*.*.*.

The Too Far Gone Job (Part One)

There was a subtly to her job that no one quite understood. It wasn’t surprising this day in age, but Celaena was a bit insulted by it all the same. Too often people were so precocious and proud in themselves that they failed to recognize that beauty was in the details. Many things took a great deal of care to be done properly. A brain surgeon didn’t rush in with a scalpel after hardly reading scans. A gymnast would spend hours and years perfecting that one little twist to bring the perfect flip.

And a thief? Well, a thief would take her time with understanding every intimate detail of her target before attempting a break-in. The Mortimer Wyrdlock for example was the best, most secure safe in the world. Built with seismic sensors as well as heat sensors, biometric scans, and thick, metal that no mere handheld saw could touch—it was suicide to even try and get close.

Celaena always put her faith in the underdog.

Concerto No. 4 in F Minor played through the grand halls of Terrasen’s Museum of Art. She’d always preferred this concerto to the others mostly for the violin. For the feeling it evoked for the way it always felt like there was a game afoot, a secret to be held, all with the slow building crescendo. It was beautiful. Once, she’d been able to play it on the piano, rather compellingly if she could say so herself. That was before she’d been ushered into her current lifestyle.

All of the things she loved about the song were only emphasized by the marble and vaulted ceilings of museum. And even though the song was still just an afterthought to cover the chatter and scuffing feet of the party, Celaena could appreciate all the subtle nuances of the song. Glorious and powerful.

She weaved through the many bodies meandering about the hall. Most, if not all, were too consumed with the expensive champagne and caviar floating around them. It was far too easy to pick a target in all the men (and women) surrounding her. Especially the senator that was already drunk with his fancy watch hanging out in the open like that. Of the string of Eyllweian diamonds that another woman wore. So easy.

But she had a plan.

And it only seemed right that this plan be executed here. It had been ages since she’d stolen something from this museum. Twelve years to be exact. She’d been twelve and pressed to execute a flawless grift.

The architecture of the building was flawless, truly. The vaulted ceilings, the tall windows that stretched along the walls to look over the Oakwald Mountains. It created an atmosphere of elegance and finesse. It was one of the oldest buildings in all of Terrasen, one of the last remaining from the war.

Which made it the perfect target.

Celaena fingered her glass of champagne as she moved through the masses of people. She could have spoken to a few of them, that was what she loved most about a job. The grift. The subtle machinations she made to ease a mark into doing what she wanted. It wasn’t lying and it wasn’t stealing, it was merely encouragement. It helped that most of her marks were bastards and the very thing that was wrong with society. Usually. Most of the time she just wanted the shiny things. (Alright so it was lying and it was stealing, but could you really blame her?).

Truth be told, she was just a little distracted by all the beauty surrounding her. There were the vases from Mesopotamia, the old book of King Brannon, the Darcus blades. She really wanted to steal those, but it would almost be too easy. All she needed to do was flirt with the security guard doing a terrible job to blend in with the party. The poor thing was in a cheap suit and poorly done tie…how had he gotten approved for this job? It would almost be mean to target him.

Celaena moved through the party with ease, setting her champagne flute on a passing tray, only acknowledging the server with a small nod, the server barely offered a smile. A strand of Celaena’s red hair fell over her eyes and she flicked it back casually. Her dress clung to her frame, thin as she was. She allowed her own confidence to carry her when she felt weak. Because she was more than capable of this task. In all her years of the grift, her appearance and the way she interacted with those around her proved to be the surest way to get a job done properly.

So, Celaena wore her too thin frame to her advantage and became what everyone expected: daddies little girl slumming her way through a party.

She was invisible when she wanted to be which let her slip down an un-manned hall.

The archived vault of the museum often held the more private items. Those that were not to be displayed without express permissions of certain clients. Celaena’s target for tonight actually was one such item.

It was far too easy to slip down a service staircase. She’d gotten her hands on a universal scanner so she could hack various systems with ease. Usually if she was doing her job right, the mark was opening doors for her. Unfortunately for her, tonight she needed more finesse and isolation.

Holding the skirt of her dress in one fist, Celaena moved down the stairs. Her research on the museum told her that most of the below staff would be dismissed for the Gala above. There would be one historian finishing up cataloging and a security guard to keep them company. The security guard would have a simple enough rotation, likely only venturing on rounds once every thirty minutes. This area was even better secured then upstairs, the guard needn’t worry about a thief like her.

Celaena couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

She wished she could be back upstairs mingling and grifting. It was what she preferred. She liked putting on that mask, liked slipping away into another persona, liked pretending she was anything but herself.

As she turned down a one of the halls, she checked the small signal reader she’d stuffed into her bra. Her comms had remained silent all night, not surprising. But she’d thought there would have been at least something.

Four steps forward to a small alcove where the old diaries of some old white man were held. Two breaths. Duck back out and then left and straight.

The Mortimer Wyrdlock stood before. The chrome fixtures glinted in the overhead lights leaving the safe looking like something out of any thief’s wet dream. Elide was going to kill her for this.

“Hello, beautiful,” she murmured. The safe really was deserving of all sorts of praise.

A soft noise came from the other side of her comms.

“Anything you’d like to add?” she said, keeping her voice low.

Nothing.

Celaena rolled her eyes and approached the safe. The lovely little beastie practically called her name.

She stayed in her little alcove waiting a beat, two. Down one of the other halls she heard the subtle conversation of the historian and security guard in one of the labs. Unsurprising, she’d encouraged a meeting between them last week, prompting a friendship. A small little hack into their lives revealed them both to be bird enthusiasts. A little nudge here and there and they were automatic best friends.

She wished it were that easy for her. Making friends. But what could she do? Tell someone what she really wanted to do was bungee off the Eiffel tower? Break into the Louvre? Steal one of Terrasens national treasures?

No one understood her on that level. Not anymore.

She approached the keypad lock of the safe and set to work.

Elide had worked a system override into the scanner that Celaena smuggled in with her. All she needed to do was hook it up to the safe and let the code do the work. That would take getting a wire into the system. Something that Celaena wasn’t the most comfortable with. Maybe she should have tried the flirting and grifting route…but the client had been clear on the way the job should go. They couldn’t even have a hint of anyone being manipulated and used. Rude, honestly. People were used and coerced every day. Tricking someone into giving her the Ring of Mab didn’t seem so problematic when you really thought about it.

Celaena made contact to the keypad.

Her handheld device ran through a string of numbers and binary as it worked. Gooseflesh rose on her skin, but that was to be expected. Before the Gala, Celaena had made sure the heating system when down to alter the heat sensors readings. It also helped that the sequins of her dress were heat reflective and had been tested to throw off certain sensors.

As she continued to work, Celaena didn’t want to think about how long it had been. Usually she didn’t have to, but in this case, she was on the clock.

Her fingers flew over the screen as she manipulated the numbers just as Elide had taught her. It was simple enough, but if she ran into any walls or blocks, Celaena had no idea what she would do. She knew the basics to get what she needed and wanted on any other job, but the Mortimer?

As her heart pulsed in her throat, Celaena punched in the last sequence she needed.

She couldn’t help but hold her breath as she waited for the system to respond. She was taking too long. She knew she was taking too long. Even with the chill of the room, she could still feel sweat collect along the back of her neck.

And then the cogs began turning.

As the vault swung open on silent hinges, Celaena allowed herself to take a breath. She certainly didn’t get the same charge out of this as Elide. Give her a cocktail and a trust fund baby any day.

She didn’t bother worrying about her fingerprints as she pulled the vault door open further. Those had been burned off as a birthday gift when she was twelve. And consistently afterwards. Eventually most of her prints stopped regenerating and only the pinky finger of her left hand and middle finger of her right were legible. She’d learned to adapt the way she touched and handled things.

Inside, the vault wasn’t as spacious as the movies made scenes like this appear. Even though it was nearly seven feet tall and five feet wide, there were still shelves that lined the walls and smaller casements for various items. Once Celaena entered she felt constricted over the small space. Pushing those sentiments aside, she went straight to the back of the vault where her target was clearly laid out.

The Eye of Elena, to some, was a simple necklace. Easy in design without too many adornments and gems. But the story behind it was what was truly remarkable. Once, it was said to have belonged to an ancient queen who had worn it as a shield of protection and power. This queen lived under many names, many faces, and led to the redemption of her kingdom from invaders. The legends said it was magic and the hand of the gods. Historians said she was a brilliant tactician with skilled generals (while also indicating that there was no way a woman could have accomplished all that she had done). Celaena liked believing in the greater legends.

The glass case of the Eye was what made the Mortimer Wyrdlock so special. It had personalized individual sections for specific items that could be adjusted to various parameters. The sight of the necklace though, sitting on that satin pillow with a gold light shining down on it—it sparked a bit of rage within her. The necklace didn’t belong to the museum and it didn’t even belong to her client.

And here she was stealing it.

The card inside the case indicated the donator it was on loan from. On loan. More like coerced. Everyone felt intitled to something just because it glittered in the light. The original owners had indeed donated it to the museum, with the promise of getting it back. But Celaena had seen the drawn-out documents between lawyers and directors insisting that it belonged to the museum. That the owners had forfeited their rights to the necklace due to the smallest of red tape, coercion. Control. Lies.

The necklace didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Strange to say about a necklace but true none the less.

This case used biometrics to open which was a little tougher to hack, but they’d been prepared for that. It only took a few keystrokes to trick the technology to accept Celaena’s eye scan and the case popped open.

In her comm, Celaena heard a small cough. She rolled her eyes.

“You could have done this yourself, retrieval specialist,” she murmured, knowing the comm could pick up just about any soft-spoken sound she made. “Give me five.”

Nothing on the other line.

Celaena took that as a victory and went to work. Carefully, she opened a small drawstring bag lined with traces of led and dropped it in the necklace. And the card.

She tucked the sachet in a secret pocket along the lining of her dress and replaced the lid. She made her way back out of the vault before pausing at the doorway. She ran her hand along the edge and allowed a little smirk to play on her lips. Her work would run for just a moment longer.

.*.*.

The alarm went off just as Celaena left the archival stairwell. She let the door shut behind her and slipped into the crowd of guests that were being ushered out of the museum. Protocol stated that all guests were subjected to a search before and after leaving. The good thing about being a thief and a grifter? The rules didn’t apply to her.

She ducked into a storage closet just past the Van Goh exhibit to find a duffle bag already waiting for her. Inside was an extra server uniform, pair of black shoes, and a taser. She made the change of clothes quick and smooth, just as she’d practiced. The sachet and necklace went in her bra and the scanner to an ankle holster. Thankfully the uniform dictated flared pants for women and not a skirt.

From there it was easy to blend in with the catering crew and then disappear into the night. Truly, some people were really unobservant.

When she ducked into an alley a few blocks away, it was the first time that Celaena took a breath. A deep breath that filled her lungs. It wasn’t clean or clear, but she was breathing and she was free.

Just thirty yards away waited a plain white van with the decals of a plumbing company. She was about to make her way to it when she heard a scrape come behind her.

Spinning, Celaena’s hand went to the taser in her pocket. She really wanted to tase someone.

“Well done,” a deep voice said from the shadows. “Only took you an hour.”

“You sound surprised,” she replied, fingers still reaching for the taser. “You should know better than to underestimate me.”

It really was insulting when people doubted her…even if most of what anyone knew about her was based on rumor.

The man only hummed in response. He came a few steps closer before stopping. The pale lights of the street lamps barely permeated the night, but it was enough to get a decent look at him. She’d only met him once before, heart rumors of him aside from that. Well, their meeting had been less of a meeting and more of a shower of bullets. She recognized him all the same.

His silver hair, his large build, the sharp angles of his face. Tonight, he wore dress pants and a black shirt rolled to the elbows, leaving powerful forearms on display. He was a force to be reckoned with, a fighter, a killer.

Everything about Rowan Whitethorn screamed danger. Celaena knew better than to trust him. But for this particular job, she wouldn’t regret being selfish.

“Oh, I’m not a fool, Rowan said. He held out a hand. “Which is why I’m here. My necklace?”

Celaena sneered at him. “My payment?”

“Transferred. Don’t you trust me?” He smirked at her, coming just a step closer.

Did he have to be so big? And as much of an asshole as he was?

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“You can check your accounts, it’s all there.” Rowan didn’t look at all worried or concerned over her lack of faith. Instead, he merely waited as she pulled out her phone (which was essentially the scanner she’d used for her thievery) and checked her account as prompted. It was all there. All hundred thousand. She was honestly a little surprised he’d kept his word.

Celaena said nothing as she took the necklace from her bra and walked it toward him.

“Can I know what your plans are for it?” she asked, tone neutral and even.

“No,” he said. He adjusted one of his sleeves, making sure the cuff stayed rolled up properly. “Just know that it’s going to well taken care of. You don’t need to worry.”

Celaena dropped the sachet into Rowan’s hand and he returned the comm she’d given him for the night. “As long as you know about the curse.”

Rowan raised a brow before he opened the bag to peek inside. “Curse?”

“Sure,” she shrugged and took a slow waltz in a circle around him. “The old queen who slaughtered an army who dared try to steal from her? She still haunts that necklace, you know.”

Rowan didn’t bother acknowledging her. He only tucked the necklace in his pocket. “Aren’t you a little old for ghost stories?”

“Nope.”

She stopped in front of him once again and clasped her hands behind her back. “Sleep well, Mr. Whitethorn. I hope your dreams are nightmarish and bloody.”

“Try not to miss me too much,” he said in reply.

Celaena spun on her heel and headed to the van. She didn’t look back until she was already pulling the driver’s door open. When she had settled herself in the driver’s seat and looked through the windshield, the alley was empty.

Scrubbing a hand down her face, certainly smudging any remnants of her make-up, Celaena drew in a deep breath. It had been a long night and was only going to get longer. It didn’t help that she had a massive headache brewing behind her eyes. She waited a few more minutes to make sure the alley was empty before reaching into the other side of her bra, drawing out another black baggie.

Upending the bag, a display card and golden necklace fell into her lap. The necklace she’d given Whitethorn was an exact replica of the original. A damn good replica if her supplier knew what they were doing.

Celaena glanced at the card and made a small promise to herself, and her family. She would get the necklace back to its proper owners. And then maybe she could finally be herself again.

Donated by the Ashryver-Galathynius Family

She ran her nails along her hairline before she tugged the red wig from her head and tossed it to the back of the van just as the passenger door opened.

“Next time I get to break into the fancy safe and do the stealing,” Elide said as she clambered in. She still wore her server’s uniform of white and black, her hair pinned in a tight bun. “I hate people.”

“Sure. Next time.”

“How beautiful was the Mortimer?” Elide asked, a small pout forming on her lips. “Did you see how the wiring connected? How did the scanner do on the hack? Did I program it right?”

“It was big and black and a safe,” Celaena said. She yawned and shook out her blonde hair until it fell around her shoulders. “You took a little longer tripping the alarm then I thought you would.”

Elide pulled a face. “Because I don’t set alarms off. Looks like you tricked the client.”

“For now,” Celaena said. She passed the necklace and her phone to her friend. “Transfer the payment so he can’t take it back when he notices the switch.”

“You think someone can hack an account I set up in the first place?” Elide let out a mirthless laugh. “Oh sweet honey child.”

Celaena rolled her eyes and started the van. “Just do it. Let’s get back to base.”

“Home, it’s your home,” Elide insisted.

Except it wasn’t a home. It hadn’t felt like a home in so long that she wasn’t even sure what the word meant.

“Whatever,” Celaena said.

She pulled out onto the road and began the trek across the city. She made sure they weren’t being tracked or followed, that would put a damper on the evening. She’d rather be across the country before Whitethorn realized she tricked him.

Her plan wasn’t exactly foolproof. Steal a priceless artifact and what? Give it back to the rightful owners? What would they do with it except give it back to the rightful owners who would then be hit with insurance fraud. She’d been impulsive and reckless. Moreso than she usually was.

But she would think about that later. For now, she would just revel in having the necklace in her possession.

*.*.*.*.

Not gonna lie, am really excited about this one! I hope you enjoy it! It'll be three parts total, the other two parts coming on other days during the month. Thanks for reading, reblogs and comments are appreciated!

#aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin month #throne of glass #tog #rowan x aelin

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