#but it's the best quality i could muster

[tinderbox210]

My mission or hers?

Why don't you try working together?

[a-s-levynn]

I don't want to start a fitcheck trend but today's double hood really did it's thing

What that 'thing' was you ask? I dunno but it was something

[youjusttryandstopme]

Late Night Dramaticized Ramblings about Minecraft SexyMen

I had too many thoughts and opinions and so I rambled at midnight and now you get to listen to it!

[carlsangel]

TASTE

carl grimes x reader

(you notice carls hands.)

tags: slighttt suggestiveness methinks MAYBE IDK

masterlist here!

Carl was beautiful, there was no denying that. It seemed all his features were absolutely perfect, although you admired him for all his other qualities obviously. You also couldn’t deny you had an infatuation with his hands. Yeah, that’s right, his fucking hands. You can’t say his hands aren’t something to marvel at.

You didn’t really realize how someone’s hands could be attractive but there was one day that caused you to notice. You were at his house in Alexandria and you were sitting at the table with him. He was teaching you how to clean your gun because weirdly that was a hobby of his he would indulge in when he was bored.

He instructed you and showed you how to do certain steps, how to take things apart and put them back together. While watching, you couldn’t help but notice how fucking pretty his hands were. They were relatively large but looked soft and comforting. You’d held his hand many times before, especially since you guys are dating but this realization opened your eyes in a new way.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking at you weirdly. You realized you zoned out and have been staring at his hands for who knows how long. “Oh- yeah sorry. I guess I just zoned out or something.” You smile a little awkwardly before continuing to take apart your gun. You try to focus your attention on his instruction but considering you were handling a weapon you tried your hardest to focus on the task at hand. Which didn’t work out, he had to put it back together for you.

When both of you were done, you walked over to the kitchen to wash your hands of all the oil and whatever it is you used to clean your guns. Again, you couldn’t pry your eyes away from his hands. Seriously you feel insane, how have you not realized this before? Now you wonder what it’ll truly be like the next time he touches you. If we’re honest, a part of you really wants to taste-

“Hello? What is up with you?” Your thoughts are cut off by him once again. You try to muster up some sort of answer. “Just tired I guess.” You reply shortly. He looks at you a little longer, trying his best to decipher what is going on in that brain of yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me, you know that right?” He looks at you intently and you’re completely frozen. You’re gonna have to say something at some point.

“It’s um…” You shut your eyes, building up the courage to actually say it out loud. “It’s your hands, Carl.” His eyebrows furrow and he looks down at his hands, expecting to see something wrong. “What?” He flips them over, looking at his palms and that honestly did it for you. “It’s stupid I don’t know how to explain it but-” The door to the house opens and you feel like you’ve been caught, you finish your sentence and go back to washing your hands as Carl greets whoever just walked into the door.

You feel so embarrassed, how are you meant to explain yourself? From then on, you helped prepare dinner and didn’t exactly have time to be alone with Carl. During dinner you felt ashamed but you didn’t let that stop you from staring at his hands. He might’ve noticed though, which was the only issue. You’d deal with it later.

Back in his room, you settled on the edge of his bed while you waited for Carl to finish getting ready for bed. You sat with your arms back, propping yourself up. When he was done, he walked over to you, standing between your knees and looking down at you. You sit up properly and look up at him. His gaze drops to your lips and he smiles. You continue to look up at him through your lashes which only pushes him the last inch he needed to lean down to meet your lips with a gentle kiss.

Oh my god your insides are burning from the inside out. (mine are tf) Carl prolongs the kiss by lifting his hand to hold your neck as he kisses you deeper. That was it, the touch you’d been waiting for since you noticed his hands.

He pulls away and he lets his hand linger on your neck as he smiles down at you. His hand glides up to hold the side of your face. “You’re so sweet.” He tells you, his thumb instinctively swiping over your lips. He keeps his thumb over your lips, wondering how far he could take it. His head tilts a little as he looks down at you and he slowly presses his thumb into your mouth. His head lifts slightly in awe at the fact you’re taking his thumb in your mouth. Now he knows.

“This is what you wanted?” He asks as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, sucking it gently. You nod as you look at him with his fucking thumb in your mouth, his breath faltering at the sight of your cheeks caving in. He could drop dead right then. You thought this was hot, sure. But he thinks it’s even hotter. He breathes in heavily.

“Jesus.” He murmurs. “You drive me nuts.” He slides his thumb out of your mouth and holds your chin so you’re staring at him.

“I’m well aware.”

a/n: i’m feral for him and he’s not even real -_- whatever anyway i hope u guys enjoyedddd it’s kinda short so i’m sorryyy :( anon i hope u liked it thank u for requesting :P guys I WANT HIM! it’s so funny bc i was like going insane about this with mac abt his hands and like how he’d touch like a bit before i got this request so thank u

REQUEST SOME MORE YALL!!

[milswrites]

Unspoken Love

~ Eris Vanserra X Fem!Reader

Summary: All the ways in which Eris shows you he loves you.

Warnings: Fluffy goodness. Nudity (non-sexual). Period cramps.

Notes: This is for everyone who just longs to see Eris happy and in love (and more specifically for @searchingforbucky because I never would have written this if it wasn’t for you)

A Hopeless Prince

Eris had a silver tongue.

Centuries of speaking in court allowing him to become a master at crafting words. The Autumn Prince blessed with the gift of bending truths and delivering commands as though they were the sweetest poetry.

And yet, despite his eloquence in speech, Eris had one problem.

A cursed inability to voice his feelings.

It was a skill the red-haired prince had never required, a mask of cool indifference being the best item a male could wear in court. Emotions were a weakness that Eris couldn't allow himself to have on display, not in Autumn.

Until he met you. Then suddenly and all at once Eris found himself a victim to his own heart's desire.

A single look, that was all that was needed for Eris Vanserra to fall in love. One look and the male was certain he had found his equal.

Yet despite the instantaneous nature of his feelings for you, Eris found his tongue locked in your presence. The three words which he so longed to tell you caged within the confines of his mouth.

Eris loved you.

An all consuming love in which the heat of his desire burned brighter than any inferno he could muster with his own palms. And yet he still couldn't find the words to tell you this. But despite his inability to voice his emotions, Eris fought against his insecurities to make sure he let you know the depths of his feelings in other ways.

He made sure to tell you with the soothing tea he made for you each morning. With the gentle kiss he always laid upon your cheek as you stirred from your slumber. He made sure you knew with his sweet compliments and admiring eyes as he soaked in your radiant beauty for as long as you would allow.

Eris loved you.

He only hoped that one day he would be able to tell you this himself.

A Comforting Presence

Time was a scarce luxury for you and Eris.

Between his courtly duties and your equally busy schedule, quality time together was a rare sight.

Whenever you managed to find a moment of peace, free from your responsibilities and ready to devote all of your attention to the Autumn Prince, Eris always had the rotten luck of being called away to another task.

Which is why you often found yourself in this position; tucked away in a hidden area of the library, curled up with a good book whilst you waited for Eris to finish his daily obligations. The books you read acting as a blissful escape from the usually restless bustle of the Autumn Court.

It was all to easy for you to hide from reality between the inked pages. To allow your mind to freely wander amongst the stories while the time slowly passed until you could see Eris again. Working your way through Autumn's large expanse of literature as each day came and went.

So it was no wonder how in your dream-like trance you didn't notice the watchful figure admiring you from afar. It took three attempts of Eris softly clearing his throat before he was able to capture your attention and draw your gaze from the book in your hands. Tensing, your alarmed eyes swiftly flew towards the source of the sound, your muscles relaxing upon seeing the familiar face of your lover.

You took the time to admire Eris where he stood, shameless eyes raking over his well-defined figure before coming to a stop at the stack of documents which were clutched tightly in his hands.

"Another meeting?" you quietly ask with a sad smile, assuming that Eris had only dropped by for a short respite and a quick hello before he needed to return to his obligations.

Eris approached you, placing a delicate kiss onto your temple before moving to sit down in the armchair beside you. "Actually," he started, the low rumble of his voice cutting through the silence of the library, "I thought I might finish off my work here, if that is alright with you of course?"

You didn't fail to miss the light dusting of redness which blossomed on Eris's cheeks, nor the embarrassed edge to his tone as he spoke. Worried that the male would allow his insecurities to take control, you stretched out your hand to entwine it with his own, locking together your fingers as your thumb moved to rub soothing circles into his skin.

"I'd love nothing more" you answered honestly, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

The two of you sat in a peaceful silence, Eris beginning to work through his papers and you picking up your story from where you left off. Yet despite your different activities your hands remained placed in each other's, Eris placing the occasional kiss onto the back of your own whenever he sat back to ponder over what he was writing.

The two of you didn't speak; you didn't need to. Not when the comfort of each other's company was enough. It could have been hours until words were exchanged between you once more, the silence broken by a gasp escaping from your lips as you reached an exciting part of your story. Intrigued, Eris looked over to where you were sat.

"What is it?" he asked, straining his neck to peer over and try and catch a glimpse of your book. Interested eyes flashing over to your own wide ones.

"Nothing, sorry! Something big just happened, I'll try to stay quiet" you promised, afraid that if you were to disturb Eris from his work he would leave to finish it elsewhere.

Eris slowly nodded in acknowledgement, turning back to his papers to continue his writings, and yet it was impossible to stop his amber eyes from travelling back to your face. Brows knitting together as he took in the bright glint in your eye and the curling of your lips as you read.

Needing to satisfy his curiosity, Eris asked you once more, "What is it? What are you smiling at?"

"Shouldn't you be working?" you teased, noting the nosy way in which the Autumn Prince was trying to snoop at the page you were reading.

"Work can wait" he huffed, snatching the book from your hands, "I'm more interested in what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours."

And as you sat in Eris's lap, happily chatting away as his work laid unfinished and forgotten, the male promised himself he would always make time for you. Because no job, nor meeting, would ever be more important than getting to see you smile.

A Helping Hand

A groan of frustration tore from your lips as you entered your shared chambers. Distressed eyes meeting the teasing stare of your amused lover who was sprawled across the bed, no doubt having been waiting for your arrival.

A soft chuckle leaving Eris's lips at the sight of your disheveled form, "Difficult day, Little Fox?"

Having finally reached the sanctuary of your room, the weight of the days trials finally settled as your eyes began to uncomfortably sting with tears. Noticing your crumbling composure, Eris swiftly made his way over from the bed to where you were stood, gentle hands coming to rest against your cheeks as his searching eyes scanned over your frame.

Your appearance clearly worrying him as the male immediately pulled you into a crushing embrace.

Face now pressed into the exposed skin of Eris's chest where the top of his shirt was splayed open, you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the familiar scent of your partner. The smell of him alone enough to bring you the comfort you needed. The Autumn Prince held your tears at bay, both by the gentle caress of his hands against your body and the soothing murmurings of solace he offered you.

It was only when your breathing steadied, and the irregular pounding of your heart had subsided, did Eris then allow himself to pull away. "Do you want to talk about it?" Eris asked tentatively, lifting a tender hand to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear, "Or would you just like me to take care of you?"

Your heart lovingly ached at the male's compassion, his words the same ones you recite to him each time he comes back to your chambers forlorn and dejected after a difficult day.

"Will you take care of me?" you asked your prince, a single tear falling down your cheek. Not at the expense of your terrible day, but at the overwhelming surge of empathy swimming in your lover's eyes.

"Always" Eris replied, kissing away your lonely tear.

The Autumn Prince needn't be told what to do; silently leading you to the bed with a promise of returning.

You waited patiently for the male as he prepared your bath, the male filling the tub with an assortment of luxurious oils and healing salts. It was only when Eris was satisfied with the temperature of the steaming water, did he then return to carry you into the bathroom.

Eris's hands worked to aid you in unlacing the corset of your dress before he gathered the silk of the slip underneath to help remove it from your exhausted frame. Once free from the confines of your clothing, Eris supportively held your hand as he carefully assisted you in getting into the bath. Allowing you to adjust to the temperate waters before moving behind you to wash your hair.

Eris had the hands of a prince, smooth and unscarred, free from the marks of labor. Yet despite the polished nature of his nimble fingers, they worked wonders whilst running through your dampened hair and massaging your aching scalp. Each gentle rub as he worked the pine scented soap into your hair being enough to draw sounds of contented pleasure from your lips.

Your love was an expert at knowing what you needed, and as he worked to was the pollutant worried of the day gone by from your skin, Eris filled your ears with light-hearted stories of his own day.

It wasn't long before the sweet sound of laughter filled the room, memories of your sour day long forgotten as you merrily conversed with your partner.

The only thing that mattered in this moment of time was him.

And as your eyes caught Eris periodically sinking his hands into the lukewarm water to rise its temperature to an adequate level, you knew there was no one else in the world you would rather have take care of you. No man that you would rather love.

A Treasured Gift

Life with Eris meant you needn't want for anything.

He made sure to spoil you with more dresses than you would ever need and your collection of jewels had grown so large they now spilled from the box you kept them in.

But your favourite gift you had received from Eris wasn't the diamond encrusted tiara he had given you for your birthday, nor the prize mare he had surprised you with on the anniversary of your relationship.

No, the best gift Eris had ever given you was his mind, scrawled between the pages of a book. . .

Your lover's nerves were almost tangible as he approached, hands hidden behind his back as he slowly stalked in your direction. Low whispers of self-encouragement upon his lips as he set his determined eyes on you.

It was unusual, to see the usually confident male blanching in your presence, all colour drawn from his usually lifeful cheeks. Eris’s foot tapping restlessly against the floor when he finally came to a stop before you.

You made to greet your prince with a kiss, but Eris's shaky words interrupted your action. "I have something for you" he said, offering you an anxious smile as your brows raised in surprise, thoughts racing as you desperately tried to remember whether this day held any important significance that you had forgotten.

Noting your panicked expression Eris immediately blurted, "It's nothing big! Just something small I've been working on for you."

Eris was slow to draw his hands from behind his back, nervous eyes meeting your curious ones as you took in what he was holding.

"A book?" you asked, taking it from his slightly trembling hand in order to cast your inspecting gaze of the cover. Tales of the heart. Your favourite story.

A book you have read over a dozen times before. So why would Eris gift you a copy of a book you already owned? Sure your copy was tattered and well loved, but did it really require a replacement?

Ever the perceptive male, Eris inhaled deeply before explaining the reasoning of his gift, "I know I'm not the best at voicing how I feel. . . So I thought you could read it instead."

His expectant eyes urged you to open the book, so you did just that.

Peeling back the cover, you were greeted with Eris's familiar penmanship, the black ink which marked the page curling into words which made your heart swell:

You are my everything, nothing more and nothing less.

With watery eyes you eagerly flicked through the book, breath catching in your throat as you observed the ink covered pages. Eris had underlined all his favourite passages, each one accompanied by scribbles of his comments and opinions, the margins overflowing with carefully worded text.

Here in your hands you held a window into Eris's soul. His emotions laid bare across each page, exposing his mind and sharing his thoughts.

This little book, which fit snugly into the palm of your hand, was an offering. An invitation to get to know the male better, to understand Eris in his entirety.

Finding yourself lost for words you did the only thing you could do, pulling the Autumn Prince into a heated kiss of appreciation. Arms flying around his neck in an attempt to draw him in closer, doing your best to pour every ounce of love and praise into each gentle caress of your lips against his.

Anticipation growing in your chest at the prospect of delving into the book later on in the day, eagerly awaiting your exploration of Eris Vanserra’s mind.

A Heated Touch

You were in agony.

Bound to your bed, wallowing in your own misery as you clutched onto your abdomen with the hope of quelling the rising tide of pain.

It was that time of the year, your aching body signaling the unwelcome arrival of your cycle.

Eris had been reluctant to leave you this morning, worried about your ability to take care of yourself. Despite wanting nothing more than to spend the day wrapped in the loving arms of your partner, you half-heartedly pushed him from your bed, knowing the male had an abundance of dull meetings to attend today.

Yet now as you laid under your covers, curled into a ball as you miserably absorbed each aching stab of pain, you wished that you had never sent Eris away. Your suffering only increasing as the hours passed by.

You would search for your lover if you could, call him from his meetings and draw him back to your bed, but with a head like cotton and a body like lead you had no choice but to lay with your torturous discomfort in solitude.

Though thankfully, Eris had other plans. Unsatisfied with leaving his partner to suffer alone during her cycle, he had spent the morning postponing his meetings and delegating his work elsewhere. Anxiously wishing away the time until he was able to return to his chambers and take care of you.

Wasting no time once the rearrangement of his tasks had been completed, hurrying to the kitchen to make you a healing cup of medicinal tea before making his way to your shared room.

Opening the door to find you exactly where he had left you, huddled under the covers and eyes tightly closed as you tried to wait out wave after wave of pulsating pain.

Heart clenching at the sight of you in agony, Eris uttered curses to the gods for bestowing you with a pain that he could not fix. Sympathy flooding into his eyes as he came to sit by your side, raising a comforting hand to brush against your cheek and pull you from your fitful slumber.

"My poor Little Fox" he empathetically cooed, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose as you stirred from your sleep. Eyes blinking open, a weak smile graced your lips as the welcoming sight of your lover greeted you.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, brows furrowing at the wince which crossed your face as you turned your body to face him better.

"Will you hold me?" you pouted lamely, tears threatening to fall now your partner was here to comfort you.

"Of course" Eris answered, needing no further instruction as he moved to climb into the bed behind you, arms reaching out across the sheets to pull you towards him until your back pressed against his chest. A pained whimper drawing from your lips as he did so, Eris cursing himself for bringing you more anguish.

"May I try something?" Eris asked, seeking your permission for what he was about to do. Nausea building in your throat, you feebly nodded. What was the worse that could happen when you already felt like death itself?

Careful not to disturb you too much, Eris snaked his hands around your middle, moving them down towards your aching abdomen before allowing his hands to gradually heat to a bearable temperature.

A deep breath of satisfaction escaped from your lips at his heated touch. The ghost of Eris's flames working to quell your pain and soothe your aching.

"You are never leaving my side again" you giggled in relief, bringing your hands to rest against his own in the hope of absorbing each remnant of heat which Eris provided you with.

"That is something we can agree on" Eris purred, drawing you into his embrace further still, warm lips brushing against your neck as he continued, "There is nowhere else I would rather be."

And as Eris watched you fall into a blissful slumber, contented smiles resting upon each of your faces, the Autumn Prince could have sworn that the three words he so longed to tell you were patiently waiting on the tip of his tongue.

A Lover's Vow

It had taken you weeks to read through Eris's gift. Having opted to take the time to appreciate each little comment your partner had scribbled onto the pages.

Each word you read opening your eyes to a new side of the Autumn Prince, showing you glimmers of a male that felt and felt deeply. Every new thing you learnt about your lover working to crack the mask which he so often wore.

Now reaching the end of your story you didn't want it to end. You wanted - no needed- to learn everything you could about the male, feeling as though this gift had only scratched the surface when it came to introducing you to the mystery that was Eris Vanserra.

You had laughed, you had cried, and now turning to finish the final page you only longed to experience it all again.

Your curiosity would never be satisfied, not when it came to Eris.

Why is why you were pleasantly surprised, that when the final words had been read, a sealed letter which had been hidden between the pages dropped into your lap. The crimson ink which adorned the envelope staring right back at you as your wide eyes took in the message that was addressed to you.

Your happy ending, Little Fox.

You weren't sure why your heart had stopped at the sight of the letter, nor were you able to explain why your hands trembled nervously as you tore open the paper. Shaking as you removed the note which had been neatly tucked inside.

Pearlescent tears began to fall down your blushing cheeks as you read Eris's words, failing to even finish the letter before you had jumped on your feet and began to run.

You were unsure of where you were heading, but the one thing you were certain of was that Eris would be at the end of it. The letter now crumpled within your tight grip as you ran, afraid to let it go and lose the words which you had been so desperate to hear.

So you didn't stop, allowing your feet to carry you towards Eris, towards your answers. Only slowing down to catch your breath when you saw your partner outside, leading his horse back to the stables through the torrential rain.

Uncaring of the fact your clothes were not appropriate for the miserable weather, you closed the distance between you and the male. Mud splashing at your calves as you rushed towards him.

Eris didn't fail to miss your sodden figure running towards him, eyes blowing wide in alarm at your sudden appearance. Worried for your sanity, he immediately dropped the reins from his hands as he ran to meet you halfway.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, concerned eyes taking in the sorry state of your wild appearance, the male moving to grip your arm and move you towards shelter but not before you had forcefully ripped your arm from his hold.

"Is it true?" you asked, your silver tears mixing with the cooling rain which was beating against your flushed face.

"Is what true?" Eris cried, brows knitted together in confusion until his gaze dropped to the letter clutched tightly in your hand and then suddenly it all made sense.

"Yes. . ." he weakly replied after a moment, his surprise at your unexpected appearance having stolen his words.

"You love me?" you pressed further, taking a step closer to your anxious partner, lifting your fist which held the now sodden letter, "What you wrote, do you mean it?"

Eris scoffed at the ridiculous nature of your question, "Mean it? Of course I mean it, I wouldn't write it if I didn't."

"Say it" you ordered, "Please. I need to hear you say it."

The old Eris would have walked away, ignored your demands and fought against his tempestuous emotions. He would have never been able to express how he felt, unable to allow the words to escape from his lips.

Yet with one look at you, saturated hair clinging to your cheeks as you looked towards the male in desperation, Eris could feel his mask slipping. The stone veil falling from his face before it dropped to the ground and shattered.

And for the first time in your life you were staring at the true face of Eris Vanserra.

Tears streaming down his face as he allowed the wave of his once hidden emotions to crash over him.

"I love you" he confessed, burning stare meeting your own, "gods I love you."

A delighted laugh broke from the males lips as the weight of his confession lifted from his chest, hands flying to your smiling cheeks as the truth of his affections continued to flow, "Mind, body, soul, I'm yours. All of me. Mask or no mask, I have always belonged to you. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you this sooner."

"But I knew, Eris" you cried along with your partner, the heated touch of his warming palms enough to burn your tears away as they came, "Even though you never said it aloud I always knew, because you showed it to me in every way that counts. You have never failed to make me feel anything but loved."

"And do you?" he asked through heavy breaths, "Do you feel the same for me as I do for you?"

"Eris Vanserra" you beamed up at the male before you, eyes glistening as you absorbed the rawness of his heartfelt expression, " I have loved you since before I ever even knew you, and I always will. My heart belongs to you Eris, until my dying breath."

Unable to stop the sob which tore from his lips, Eris allowed himself to cry, arms coming to wrap around your middle in a crushing embrace as he sought to stabilize his trembling frame.

"I think I'm going to need a new letter" you mumbled into his chest, the ruined piece of paper having fallen to the rain-soaked ground in the midst of your embrace.

"I'll write you a thousand more if that's what you want" Eris promised, lips coming to softly press against you head as his tears subsided, "But I think I'd rather tell you how I feel from now on."

"I'd like that" you replied staring up at the male you loved so dearly, "I'd like that very much."

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

Notes: Ahhh I love this fic so much! Thank you @sarawritestories for holding my hand and walking me through this 😂

[justmywriting1313]

Stupid British Man (John Price x f!Reader)

This is fairly unfinished and an unedited product of my fixation on these stupid military man and every hurt/comfort scenario you can think of but nonetheless enjoy!

PS:- I would really really REALLY love some COD requests since thats where the inspiration for writing is flourishing soooooo yeah please send stuff in thank you<3

Summary: John's a great captain but like all men in love he is also a stupid british man!

Warnings: Talk and direct mentions of smexy times, no aftercare (but not intentional and will come in part 2)

Jonathan Price is a military man...

More than that, he is a captain and a military man...

A captain in the military needs to embody many qualities, one of the most important being the ability to remain strong and stable in the face of adversity, anchored and calm in uncertainty, and always aware of their surroundings, especially when confronted with unprecedented situations that demand logic and rationality.

It's a trait John was not only confident he possessed but one he prided himself on (considering he was the captain of three complete muppets at times). Yet, as he stands there in his flannel pajamas, his member still damp and somewhat aroused from the recent pounding he gave you not five minutes ago, a warm washcloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, John has never been more flabbergasted in his life as he watches you cutely jump to pull your leggings up over your waist.

You had already fastened your bra and were now pulling your old university shirt over your head, a shirt John had previously loved. However, given that he had finally slept with you after a two-month deployment, he would prefer to see you in his clothing or nothing at all. Therefore, the sight of the worn-out piece of cloth offended him, to say the least. Even more so, because neither of you had received a lick of aftercare and the lack of it was making him antsy. Instead of waiting for him in bed like you should have, you were rummaging through your duffel bag for something John couldn't be bothered to inquire about. He was certain that nothing was important enough for you to leave the sheets before he had a chance to clean you up properly. So, with as much calm as he could muster, he said,

"What on fuckin' earth are you doing?

The heavy, accented voice of the captain makes you jump as you straighten up, not having heard him come in. You whirl around to face the man you have been infatuated with since your first meeting, the same man who fulfilled so many of your fantasies over the last few hours and is now standing in the doorway of his room with a flabbergasted look about his rugged face. The tears you had been doing a good job of suppressing so far immediately reappear, though you were adamant about not letting them fall… God forbid you be known on base as the girl who cries after sex. Instead, you give him a smile before turning away as you begin to wrangle your hair into a ponytail and reply,

"What do you mean, what am I doing, John?"

John can only splutter at your nonchalant response, his brain having completely short-circuited… Clearly, something is lost in translation.

You only shrug at his shock before continuing to gather your spread-out things into your small bag, trying your best to curb the small, pathetic whimper that is bound to leave your lips if you spend any more time in this man's room surrounded by so much of him. Instead, in the heavy silence of the room, you mull over the events of what got you in his bed in the first place…

You and John met 8 months ago when you were brought onto his military base as a licensed psychologist specialising in psychotherapy for young adults. Your main job was to work with the younger recruits, which included the ones trained by John's own men. John can still recall the first time he saw you as you came barreling in through his door, your angry voice bouncing off the walls of his office. You were a small thing, barely reaching the bottom of the man's chest, with long hair and high cheekbones. You were dressed in leggings that flared at the bottom and drove John insane, with a striped sweater on top, your soft curves visible through the knitted material.

You were the most tender thing he had seen on base, and despite all this softness, you squared off against the military captain, demanding to speak to his lieutenant and give the man a piece of your mind for traumatizing your recruits more than any battlefield could. John had never been rash a day in his life, and yet he had promised himself he would make everything and anything to do with you a personal matter.

You, on the other hand, had not perceived the butterflies the older Brit gave you until the next day when he had come knocking on your door. Dressed in a tight shirt and his camo pants, he was every girl's dream. It didn't help the butterflies in your stomach when he looked down at you with soft eyes while properly introducing himself. He then led you to the rec room of his task force where his lieutenant was sitting and brooding.

Thus began eight long months… Months of teasing glances exchanged across busy meeting rooms that made him grin and you blush. Soft touches shared either against the back of your hand when you stood side by side or across your cheek as he tucked your hair back. Eight long months of late-night talks where he would seek you out, wherever you were, with a drink of your choice in his hand and an endearing look about him as he let you jabber about how you miss baking and he told you about his parents. Eight months spent with your heart in your mouth as you watched him leave with his team, a desperate prayer for his safety on your lips as he held you against him the night before, limbs tangled together innocently yet intimately. Eight months of yearning that would only grow stronger every time he came back, his eyes finding you in a sea of military personnel and lighting you on fire each time.

And despite all this wanting, two months ago, the night before he was sent out for the longest mission yet, you overheard him with Ghost in the rec room. The box of cupcakes you smuggled into the base held tightly as the tall, rough captain unknowingly broke your heart.

"You say professional sir but everyon' sees the way you look at 'er... the little medic..." "Don't know what you're talkin' about Simon..." Price chuckles and you assume Ghost gives him a look as John continues, "Hell even if I wanted to and I am no' saying I do, I cant do anything about it can I?... she's a kid AND she's military personnel" "Then the late nights in your office are what... just meetings to go over paperwork yeah? Just a little overtime is that it?" "Come on gotta pass the time between deployments somehow" "Is that so then mind if I tell Soap–"

Thats all you had the stomach to hear, although had you stuck around you would have heard the captain confess his love. Instead you made your way to his office where you left the box of baked goods on his table and fled to your room. You spent the night muffling your tears as you came to terms with what you were to John versus what John is to you... The following morning, as you waved some of your recruits bye, your eyes met John's hurt ones, his gaze heavy with questions about where you were last night but you looked away.

Unbeknownst to John his worst worry was coming true when the two months of his deployment gave you enough time to misunderstand your importance to him. That while John was the sun to you, you were a small star in a distant galaxy that had no hope of being anything more than that... And yet you knew you would take anything he gave you, no matter how much it would hurt.

Which is why when he knocked on your room door in the middle of the night, his hair still wet from the shower he had barely managed to squeeze in, eyes tired, lost, and desperate you didn't hesitate. You didn't hesitate when his arms went around your waist drawing you into his chest, head pressed into the crook of your neck as you pressed him into you. You didn't resist or clue him on the turbulence in your head when he pulled away although barely. His hands moving from gripping the back of your shirt to your waist, grip tight as he hefted you into the air forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. Any shock on your part absorbed by his mouth as his lips found yours, your hands coming to hold his face. The kiss was desperate, it was messy. A clash of tongue and teeth as he quickly took control. You hadn't stopped to think or really breath, instead letting John fill the crevices of your mind as he carried you through the empty hallways of the barracks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered how no one spotted you but you were quickly distracted by his hand on your ass which kept you pressed up against him. The other on the back of your neck never letting you pulling away long enough and following your mouth as you did so. You never stopped to spill the pent up hurt that had festered unknown to the man as you whimpered into his mouth when his fingers found just the right spot, his muttered praises only getting you to your finish faster...

Your little trip down memory lane as you stuffed another shirt into your bag gave John time to get over his shock, taking a deep breath as he placed the washcloth and bottle on his nightstand. His surprise was now replaced by a desire to fix the situation.

Another aspect of being a captain was observing people, learning to read the little things about how people behaved, and now that the shock had worn off, that's what John set about doing. He watched the tension in your back gather as you stuffed your things into your bag… mementos left over from other nights that John treasured. Things that he would be pulling out of the bag as soon as he had things sorted. He watched with narrowed eyes as your face got redder, the desperation with which you were trying to hold yourself together scaring him…

Something was wrong, and he had been so consumed by his need to see you, to feel you, to know that you were alright, that he didn't stop to consider how things had been left off… To remember that you never came to his room the night before he left and that you didn't look at him at the drop zone. John realized then that whatever had upset you that night had two months to fester in your mind and that he couldn't let you leave in any capacity before everything was laid out.

He shuffled his way over to your figure as you rummaged for your ID card in your bag, needing it to get back to your room. His large hands slid into place on either side of your waist. You jolted at the sensation, registering that his hands were warm while straightening up. John didn't let your tensing stop him as he gently turned you around, his grip turning a little forceful when you tried to resist, but eventually you gave in. Your splotchy cheeks and bitten lips greeted him, and he couldn't help himself when he pressed his lips against your forehead, muttering into your skin as he did so,

"Sweetheart... whats going on?" "What do you mean John?" "I mean whats going on... whats got you packin' up your bag hmmm? Can't imagine you've got an important meetin' this time of the night have you? We also hadn't really finished had we?"

Johns doing his best to catch your eye as he talks but its futile when you keep your gaze steady on anything but his face.

"You wanted to go again?"

John balks at that response. Is that really why you think he wants you to stay? Is that really what you think of him?

"What? No no darlin' I mean you were up before I gotta chance to clean you up... I don't know about the men you've been with before sweet girl but a gentleman cleans up his lady... and of course a cuddle after..."

He pouts through the last part though you don't look up to see it. Your eyes remain trained on his muscular neck and John does his best to remain patient. He knows you, no matter how foreign your apprehension of him may feel right now. He knows you and he knows you're hurting which is why you're avoiding his eyes because the minute he gets you to see him you break,

"Oh... oh you don't have to John... I'm alright I can just go, I'm sure you're tired and want to rest and i don't want to keep you..."

John groans lowly in frustration at you not getting his point, his grip subconsciously tightening as if you would run off the minute he lets go and to his credit thats not a difficult situation to imagine,

"Fuckin' hell, okay sweetheart lets try this another way. Why do you think you have to go anywhere huh? I though' we could lay down and have a cuddle... even took the day off tomorrow to spen' it with you yeah? Want to know what you've been up to? Maybe step off the base and take you out for a proper meal?"

With each word out his mouth your confusion and hurt climb reaching a crescendo until your ears are ringing and you need to get away from this sweet talking brit before you crumble. However, Johns a stubborn man particularly when he sets his mind to something so no amount of squirming on your end makes him let you go as you begin to blabber each source of pain out in the open,

"Let me go, let me go, let me go John... You're so mean you know that? So so so mean... You come into my life all soft and sweet and gentle with me calling me pretty things that I've only imagined being called and you came in and made me care about you when I was so happy in my own bubble but still I started to care and then I find out its only for me to be something you pass time with nothing more and then you come back and I love you so much that ill take anything I can get from you even if its one night and then you have the audacity to stand there and be all sweet and caring when you and I both know that this will never be anything more and you know what maybe I am a child because this is too much–"

Your ranting is cut off by John whose own pulse has become frantic at all that you've laid out before him. You love him! Wait why do you think this is a one night thing? what do you means passing the time? One hands grips your upper arm, the other forcing your face up to look at him as your fists continue to push but to no avail,

"Whoa whoa okay look at me... look at me sweet girl... not letting you go until I ge' your eyes on me yeah? You can fight all you wan' but 'm not letting go until you get you damn eyes on me yeah? Come on... there you go good girl now what do you mean something to pass time with huh? What got that daft idea into that pretty head or that this would be a one night thing? Talk to me yeah "

John's barely finished before the words escape you in a breathless sob

“You, you stupid British man!”

Okay I was too excited to post it so here but if the reception to it is you know good ill post the second bit which is already written 👀

As always please reblog yes? yes okaieee byee

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Stoner!Tim Drake

A/N: to the one nonny who requested this I’m SO sorry I deleted your ask I feel so bad!

Stoner!Tim Drake x gn!Reader

Content warnings: descriptions of Weed, descriptions of getting high, Tim calls reader baby, descriptions of physical touch, mentions of dominant and submissive behavior, mentions of orgasm control, mentions of possessiveness,

————

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this man very rarely smokes blunts. He typically sticks to carts and sometimes edibles. If someone offers him a blunt he’s not gonna turn it down, but it’s not something he seeks out. He just thinks they’re too much work, plus he typically gets distracted by something else, leading to them burning out before he gets the chance to take the last couple hits.

He only buys the best of the best quality carts however, especially if he’s sharing with you. No half-assed shit for his baby. He also has an insane amount of them. You open his nightstand? Cart. His kitchen cabinet? A Tupperware with 2 different carts and way too many edibles to be considered normal. You go to clean his Red Robin uniform for him? He has 3 carts in his utility belt. When you ask him about why he has so many in his crime-fighting uniform he just shrugs and says “Different types of highs baby.”

He also seems to get high at the strangest times. He has a stakeout? He’ll get blasted. When asked why he says it helps him to focus on the task at hand. He runs out to pick up breakfast for you both? He’ll come back high. You don’t even know how as he was sober when he left and, at least to your knowledge, he didn’t take anything with him that could get him high. Yet here he is. Slightly red eyed and clinging to you.

Despite that if you ask him to be sober for something he will in a heartbeat. If you don’t want him to get high on your date nights, done with zero hesitation. You worry about him getting high on patrol? He’ll do it much, much less, without so much as a second thought. With his work as Red Robin he is all too familiar with how drugs can affect people so if it makes you uncomfortable he will limit your exposure to it as much as possible.

If you don’t mind however and even smoke with him? Be prepared for the best high of your life. You know when you feel like you might be able to take one more hit but you’re not sure if it’ll make you green out or not? Tim knows if it will. He has it down to a science. Tell him how high you wanna get and he will carefully watch you the whole night, instructing you on if you should take another hit or slow down for a while. Even when he gets blasted, he can still do it with perfect accuracy. It’s honestly really impressive.

Speaking of how he is when he’s high, he’s gotten uncannily good at hiding it. That’s part of the reason he gets high so damn often, most people can’t tell. Once you know him well enough however there are a few very minor signs you may be able to pick up on. For instance, he tends to fidget at a slower pace, or do different fidgets than he does sober. And those are the ones that are the MOST obvious. It’s safe to say he hasn’t gone to a Wayne industries meeting sober in years.

But when he’s in private and high? Oh boy he is SO clingy. Sober Tim is anxious and a bit conservative with his affection, especially early in your relationship, but get him high and he will be ALL over you. But only with your permission!

The first few times you get high with him he gives you the best pleading look he can muster before leaning in, lips a few inches away from your skin, so you feel the words more then you hear them. “Can we please cuddle baby?” It’s all you can do to nod dumbly in agreement. Tim lets out a relieved moan and all but falls against your side, hot breath still burning a hole in your skin.

However he’s also very easy to work up when he gets like this. You’re gently scratching up and down his back one second and the next thing you know he’s on top of you, gently grinding into you, almost like he’s afraid you’re going to disappear if he goes to hard. He whispers out a desperate “please baby. Need it so damn bad.” So breathlessly you’d be insane to say anything but yes.

The second he has your approval he’s frantically removing your pants, and shoving his mouth over every inch of your that it feels good on. Tim gets desperate and needy when he’s like this, and the one thing he wants right now? You to feel good. And without a doubt you will be feeling good.

Tim has every inch of your skin memorized in his mind, every movement that he needs to execute in order to make you feel good. That’s nice while he’s sober but it can almost feel a bit… rehearsed. Almost like he’s putting on a performance for a play. But when he’s high? That problem is completely gone. He still has all that knowledge of what makes you feel good but he’s not as afraid to tease or try out new moves. He’s not scared to get a bit lost in his own pleasure while giving you head, and it really makes everything feel that much better.

Speaking of getting lost in his own pleasure… he tends to lean a bit more dominant when he’s like this. A stark contrast to his typical submissive or otherwise pliant behavior in bed. He’ll grind into you, tease, make you beg. He likes to try out orgasm control, edging you until you’re practically in tears and then making you cum so hard you need to tap out for a water break. Don’t worry however, he’ll make sure his baby is always taken care of by the end of the night.

Also this man gets possessive while high. He’s already a bit possessive when sober, he just hides it very well. However when he’s high he’s less subtle. He’ll be clinging to you, unwilling to separate unless absolutely necessary. He also LOVES it when you wear his clothes, and the hickies decorating your neck, and chest, and pelvis, and thighs, and well most other parts of you show it.

All in all Tim can hide being high very well when he wishes. When he doesn’t have any reason to hide it though? Well let’s just say you’ll be in for a long night.

[aetherdoesthings]

a new job

forethoughts: i'm currently on a train going to my next location and my head is light and i feel like puking as i'm typing this because someone has terrible motion sickness :D. anyways apologies if the quality of work isn't of the same as my previous ones; i am running on a glass of sparkling water. also apparently i'm only a few followers away from 300, so you know what that means...

notes: fem!reader, botanist!reader, arlecchino being a good father

Arlecchino trekked through the bustling streets of Fontaine, her crimson eyes gleaming at anyone who dared to stare for too long. She tuned out the sounds of random Fontainians whispering and saying her name to one another, instead focusing on her task at hand. In her hands was a bouquet of romaritime flowers and rainbow roses, all fresh and handpicked by herself. One more bouquet, and her collection would be complete. After that, she’d be off to the Opera Epiclese to watch her children graduate. The thought alone of Lyney, Lynette and Freminet graduating was enough to bring a smile to the Knave’s face, but she kept her poker face on, keeping her excitement and happiness to herself.

The Harbinger stepped into the flower shop, admiring the bouquets set out on the stands as she stepped into the building, ignoring the bees that fluttered around. 

“Hi! How may I help you?” Arlecchino’s muscles tightened at the sudden sound, before relaxing when her eyes landed upon the source of the sound. You were standing in front of the Harbinger, wearing a simple white dress. It didn’t help the Harbinger relax when she saw your jade eyes and a white headband on your head. 

“And you are..?” The Harbinger mustered the question out of her mouth, a wave of deja vu washing over her.

“I’m Y/N, the owner of this flower shop!” You smiled at the Knave, not a single drop of fear in your heart as you faced the woman that could end your life just by looking at you. “Is there anything you’re looking for? Or picking up an order?”

“Well… I would like to purchase a bouquet of lumidouce bells.” Arlecchino cleared her throat.

“Alright!” You walk towards your collection of lumidouce bells, picking up a bouquet for Arlecchino. “Here you go!”

“Right. Thank you.” Arlecchino took the bouquet of lumidouce bells, juggling it with her other two bouquets. She reached into her pocket, fetching out her wallet.

“T-That’s alright. I couldn’t possibly charge the Knave for some little Mora.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I insist. How much, clerk?” Arlecchino waited for your response.

“U-Um, sixteen Mora.” 

Sixteen? For a bouquet this size? Arlecchino thought to herself.

“Take it all.” Arlecchino handed you a pouch of Mora, leaving it in your hand. “There are at least six thousand Mora in there.”

The Knave’s thin lips curled upwards at the sight of your jaw ajar, staring at the Harbinger’s pouch of Mora as if you had the whole world in your hand.

“I-I couldn’t possibly-”

“Take it. These lumidouce bells look to be in excellent condition compared to other shops who bargained for a higher price. You are quite the modest person, are you?”

You look at the Harbinger with a sheepish look, as you made your way to the counter, the Harbinger’s money still in your hands as your shaking fingers click on a few buttons on the machine, printing the receipt for the Harbinger. “I… just like to make people happy, really. I like my lifestyle. It can be better, yeah, but I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“I see.” Arlecchino made her way towards you, standing on the other end of the counter.

While the two of you were waiting for the receipt to print, you chirped. “May I ask why you have three bouquets of flowers?” Arlecchino looked at the bouquets of flowers she had, adjusting how she held them to assure the best quality of all three of them. “My children are graduating tonight.”

Arlecchino’s heart churned at the sight of your smile and glimmer in your eyes. “That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for them!”

“Thank you.” Arlecchino replied, looking at each bouquet, the recipient’s faces flashing in her head, which only fuels her pride and joy.

“Say, I noticed you have romaritime flowers on you. As an advice, romaritime flowers are found underwater, meaning they thrive being submerged in water. It is advised you drench them in water to keep them healthy and alive. Here.” You grab a spray bottle of water, pressing down on the trigger ever so slightly, letting a sprinkle of water hit the romaritime flowers. In an instant, the colors brighten, as if it was brought back to life. Arlecchino’s eyebrow raised at the sight, fascinated by the newfound knowledge in botany. 

“Did you study botany while you were at school, clerk?” Arlecchino asks, as you set the spray bottle down.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Arlecchino couldn’t stop herself grinning at the sound of you calling her ‘ma’am.’ “Arlecchino. Call me Arlecchino.”

“Okay. Yes, Arlecchino. I did study botany!” You smiled, proud of your hard work and achievement.

“Interesting.” An idea formulates in Arlecchino’s head, as she studied your figure once more. The receipt was printed, as you handed it over to Arlecchino.

“Well, have a fun time at the graduation ceremony! I wish the best for your children!” You exclaimed, the corners of your mouth shooting up to your lips as your eyes met Arlecchino’s crimson ones.

“Hmn.” Arlecchino walked out of your store, the faint rustle of the bell filling up the empty space. The Harbinger made her way to the Opera Epiclese, a thin smile on her face as her mind pondered about you and your profession, then about the children at the House of the Hearth.

You were about to close your store and head home, when spiders crawled up your spine, the hair on your body rising and your muscles tensing up. Alarm and panic raced through your mind as you whipped your head around, scanning the dark streets of Fontaine for any sign of your source of fear. 

“I have a proposition for you.”

A scream was ripped from your throat as you jumped, stumbling a few feet back as your eyes zoned in onto the voice. The Fourth Harbinger stood at where you once were, half of her body cloaked by the shadow, only a fraction of her body exposed in the light. 

“A-Arlecchino.” You stammered, your mind still in flight or fight mode.

“Don’t be scared. I’m not here to harm you. Rather, help you.” The Knave took a step towards you, her eyes telling you no secrets or revealing anything whatsoever about her plan. You took a deep breath, nodding your head as you composed yourself.

“I want you to be a teacher in the House of the Hearth. To teach the students about botany. I believe it will be useful for the children to know about nature and the world around them, help them survive and grow used to being in nature’s terrain.” Arlecchino announced. “Naturally, I will pay you a sum of Mora monthly, and provide you with the basic amenities you require.”

Your jaw dropped to the ground, your soul headed for the other direction. “You want me to teach kids about plants?”

“Yes. Starting next week. I will provide for your travel necessities to arrive at the House safely.”

“I’m not sure if I’m really qualified to teach-”

“Did I stutter?” A crimson glow emanated from those dark pools. You gulped, nodding your head, accepting the Harbinger’s offer. The darkness in her face disappeared, replaced by a thin smile as she dipped her head at you.

“I shall see you then. Have a good night.”

“Have… a good night.” You mumbled out, watching the Harbinger disappear into the streets of Fontaine. With Arlecchino out of your sight, your shoulders slumped, as you turned the key, allowing yourself to step away from your store and be one with the dark as well.

Maybe getting that degree wasn’t so useless after all.

[lilacxquartz]

JJK x READER DRABBLES I Asking them if they would still love you if you were a worm

a collection of reader insert scenarios in which the jjk characters are faced with a strange question.

w.c: each piece is under 600 words

themes: fem!reader, mostly fluff, some nsfw mentions but light, slight plot, silly scenarios, crack

included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, naoya zenin, choso kamo & also sukuna

mdni • semi nsfw • ao3 link

Satoru Gojo:

“Satoru?” you whined in a questioning tone, suddenly seeming genuinely upset about something out of the blue.

It was bizarre, really. One moment you were both watching reruns of your favourite show, perfectly entangled in each other’s arms and the next, you were using that tone with him.

Was he in trouble?

“Huh?” Satoru warily replied, propping himself up so he could get a better look at you. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He stared at you as your expression seemed deep in thought with a topic he could only pray made sense. He couldn’t tell if it was going to be another strange trending question from the internet or if you were truly upset with something serious this time.

It was always a fifty-fifty chance with you but he loved every bit of it, if he had to be honest.

With a furrowed brow, you mustered up the courage to ask a question, “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

For a while, Satoru had no idea what to tell you as his eyes involuntarily drifted up to the ceiling in disbelief as he held onto stifled laughter. He seemed to recognise his fatal flaw the longer he didn’t reply to you though, so he finally broke the silence with an escaped snort.

“For real…?” he asked, squeezing your shoulders as he held onto you, checking to see if you were pulling his leg or not.

You folded your arms as you signalled to him that this was in fact a serious question to you, tilting your head back to watch those icy blue eyes gradually widen into a burning panic the longer he put off giving you a real answer.

“Uh, hey, look, listen I’d uh…” Satoru immediately scrambled, knowing that he had to answer you sooner than later, choosing to offer you the best answer he could possibly think of, “I’d buy you the highest quality tank, alright? It’ll have the best soil and rocks and I’ll buy you premium-grade gourmet worm food, yeah?”

You slowly thawed as he continued to spout distressed nonsense into your ears, soon finding yourself slowly relaxing as you melted back into his arms.

Confused but strangely relieved, Satoru let out a deep sigh knowing he passed yet another one of your insane tests, deciding to pull you in as close as possible so you wouldn’t doubt him for even a second longer ever again.

Suguru Geto:

Phasing in and out of sleep, you watched how Suguru cleaned your shared home with nothing but fascination in your stare. Your eyes narrowed as you caught glimpses of him meticulously sweeping dust out of existence, ensuring his home would remain perfectly well manicured for his family to enjoy.

You continued to tune into the waking world as the whirring hum of the vacuum cleaner coursed nearby; your eyes slowly widening as your sights focused onto your phone.

Returning as nothing short of a sweaty mess but ultimately fulfilled, Suguru sat at the foot of the bed while you studied him with a specific question in your mind.

Noticing the focus painted on your face, Suguru knew that this had to be good, “What’s up?”

“Hey, Suguru,” you yawned, “you’d still love me if I was a worm, right?”

He narrowed his eyes as you asked him such a strange thing. Furrowing his brows into something that could resemble annoyance, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose in mock disbelief before finally humouring you.

“Is this one of those trends you’ve seen on tiktok again?”

“Maybe,” you replied as you confirmed his fears, “answer the question?”

“As much as it pains me,” he began as he clenched this jaw, realising that there was no plausible scenario in which this strange idea could ever manifest into reality to begin with, “yes, I would still love you if you were a worm.”

Your face lit up, “Really?”

Suguru ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to further calm himself down and gave you a tight nod instead.

He couldn’t help but exhale a loud sigh as you genuinely seemed thrilled at his answer to your insane question; feeling himself grow tired from both cleaning all morning as well as what it meant to truly be with you.

He loved it secretly even if he was stoic at times.

It was your silly side that drew him in, after all.

Toji Fushiguro:

You walked side by side with Toji on the way to the locks park. In one hand you carried a red fleece blanket while he carried a wicker basket.

He reluctantly agreed to go on a picnic with you during his time off because he knew it would make you happy even if he didn’t quite look forward to sitting on some grass out in the exposed open field.

Upon arriving to the destination and setting up shop though, Toji lasted maybe just under ten minutes before he grew restless and started ripping out chunks of grass in a huff.

“Babe,” he sulked as he tried to get your attention, swatting a fly away from his face, “I’m bored. How long do we have to be here for?”

“You promised you’d tolerate it for at least fifteen minutes,” you sighed, supposing you should have been thankful that he entertained the idea of it at all.

“You keeping track?” he quizzed you, his eyes training onto the basket. “How about we eat then we go? I’ll take you on a nice walk instead.”

You nodded in a resigned manner despite not quite opposing his idea and as you tucked into the packed sandwiches, your gaze settled on a worm writhing between the blades of grass.

Staring at it, you decided to torment him.

“Toji?” you asked.

He hummed in response with his mouth full of bread, making him sound muffled as he replied, “Whath ith ith?”

“You’d still love me if I was a worm, right?” you asked, pointing at the earthworm.

“I already have one of those,” he said as he swallowed his bite, “don’t need another, especially since you wouldn’t be able to do much.”

“I’d be useful,” you defensively replied.

“Yeah?” he asked, staring at you with a strangely fond look in his eyes.

“I’d be your personal little compost worm for your garden,” you proudly announced.

“Garden? You think I can afford a place with a garden?” Toji laughed, tugging your wrist to pull you closer to him.

“…Hypothetically,” you reminded him.

“You are such… a menace sometimes,” he sighed to himself as he reeled you in even closer, “if I tell you what you wanna hear, can we get out of here sooner?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“Then by all means,” Toji beamed, “hell, I’d even make sure your compost bin looks like a little worm mansion.”

“Good,” you smiled, “it’s what I deserve.”

“God, you and your weird questions,” he sighed as he held you closer, not caring that you were in public, “just keep them to a limit though, I don’t want to go grey before forty. Got it?”

“Got it,” you smiled.

Naoya Zenin:

Sitting from across the dining table sat your stoic and distant husband, Naoya Zenin. Your marriage to him had always been questionable at best, but you didn’t complain too much as long as he kept his promise to provide for you.

On some days, you weren’t too sure how you felt being paraded around as his arranged trophy wife, but surprisingly you both somehow complimented each other quite well.

Initially, he didn’t care for what you had to say at all, finding your words to be pointless. However somewhere down the line, he would allow for you to talk if you truly had to do so, provided that you ceased talking when he told you to.

He wouldn’t admit it to you directly, but he was actually growing quite fond of you as the time passed you both by.

“Naoya?” you asked, swirling a crystal goblet of wine in your hands, raising it to meet with the light.

He set his fork down and leaned his chin over his palms with feigned interest. Just by that tone alone, he could tell it was time for your daily torment of asking useless questions. That was the type of relationship you developed with him; you liked pissing him off with conjured up bullshit while he liked putting you into place in bed later.

“What is it, woman?” he asked, as dehumanising as usual. Maybe one day he’ll call you by your actual name.

“Would you still keep me around if I turned into a worm?” you asked.

“I would not,” Naoya scoffed, his smile widening on accident before falling flat, “you’d be lucky if I didn’t step on you right then and there.”

“Bit mean, don’t you think?” you asked as your head titled off to the side.

Snapping just a little at the ridiculous question, he narrowed his gaze, “What use could I possibly have for a worm?”

“None, I suppose… but it’d still be me,” you gestured dramatically, pulling the wine glass to meet with your lips and taking a sip.

“No, it wouldn’t be you,” he corrected you with a huff, “it would be a worm and I don’t have a use for a worm. I’d step on you and find someone else.”

“So heartless,” you commented, “not even hypothetically?”

Naoya’s expression darkened at your persistence, feeling his patience finally run out. He was already annoyed that you dared to ask such a stupid thing of him. The only reason he even tolerated you to begin with was because you were easy on the eyes and compliant enough—he’d say you were light on the ears but not with this drivel you were subjecting him to.

“And? My point stands,” he replied.

“But-“

“—cease,” he hissed, momentarily losing his composure, “you’re… not turning into a worm. Not even hypothetically, so be quiet.”

You faltered for now as you resigned into hushed submission, thinking about what question to bother with him for tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Naoya sighed at last as this conversation was finally over. He was absolutely going to punish you for making him listen to such garbage; maybe putting that pretty mouth of yours to use in a way that didn’t result in pointless rambling for a change.

It wasn’t like you were using that thing to do anything useful with that thing, anyway.

Choso Kamo:

As you both basked away on a beach during the peak of summer, Choso wasn’t taking the heat too well at all. Not only was he tucked away, clinging onto the shade cast by the parasol but he was also quite literally congealed in what could have been an entire bottle of sunscreen.

He reluctantly tagged along with you for a beach trip because you informed that, to his horror, you'd be lounging around in a public place with just a bikini on. Choso wasn’t possessive by any means he thought (he was wrong), but he didn’t feel quite right for you to do so alone without his protective watch.

As a result, he felt just a little agitated even if he didn’t let it show. Both from the rowdy company that occupied the coast as well as the relentless sun prickling away at his skin.

So when you spotted a worm wriggling around in the sand and he had to witness you fling it back ono the grass with a stick, it seemed that he finally reached his tipping point of what he could handle on such a hot day.

Not quite realising that he was on a descent into madness, you spoke up with a playful tone, “Choso?”

Slowly, he turned his neck around, shuddering at how stiff it sounded. It was as if he was made from stone as his joints swivelled; his eyes settling on you with a questioning hum.

“…Yes?”

“Do you think you’d still love me if I was a worm?” you asked, staring at the sky through your shades.

“A-a worm…?” he asked back, not quite sure if he was hearing you correctly. Maybe he wasn’t and this was his sign that he finally slipped away into madness.

But then you spoke up again, confirming that the question was real, “Yeah, you know, like those long slimy wiggly things.”

“I-I know what a worm is,” he stammered, slowly grounding himself as he listened to you talk. As nonsensical as you were being, he found himself growing calm with the help of your voice.

“That’s good to know,” you snorted, “so… would you?”

Choso sighed softly to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help but stare at you with a strange mix of wonder, love and frustration all at the same time. Was this what being in love was like for everyone else?

In an instant, he forgot about the rest of his worries, choosing to take your question very seriously as your reliable boyfriend.

“Yes, I-I’d love you especially if you were a worm,” he replied with a strong hint of determination, not realising that he had already fumbled his answer with a strange choice of words.

“Especially?” you laughed as you turned over to your side, pulling your sunglasses down to get an even better look at his silly state.

“Oh… Oh! N-no I meant…” he scrambled, his brows furrowing in slight panic, “I would love you no matter what form you took on because I’d know it was you and I love you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you laughed. “I would love you no matter what, too.”

Sukuna:

You remained propped up on Sukuna’s lap as he wrapped a secure hold around your form with his lower set of arms. With the top half of his limbs, he held onto a branch of grapes as the other gently petted you, feeding you with a fond look in his eyes.

It was admittedly a little strange the first time he first talked you into these sorts of sessions, but you supposed that they were pretty nice. Quiet and almost intimate moments where he fed you all sorts of fruits all the while he held onto you as though you were some sort of prized possession.

Neither of you ever talked during these interactions, as this was purely an act of not quite affection, but assuring your devotion to him.

However, your mind remained fixated on something from earlier on in the week and it was starting to conflict with the grapes he wanted to feed you.

Just a few days ago, you heard him trash talk humans to Uraume and call them insects, wondering if he felt that way about you too.

Noticing your torn expression, Sukuna sighed as he pulled the grapes away at last and fed you a look of slight disdain.

“Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” he observed, tweezing your chin to face him as he studied the way you reacted to him, “Speak.”

“I-it’s fine,” you murmured, trying to ignore the issue.

“Don’t take me for a fool,” Sukuna warned, “your secrecy mocks me.”

Figuring that he wasn’t going to drop the subject unless you told him exactly what it was. you decided to work up the courage to ask the question that had been eating you from the inside.

“Do you see me as an insect?”

Sukuna immediately understood what you must have been referring to and rather than berate you for filling your mind with such useless worries, needing to keep you calm for his desired time with you, he shook his head in response instead.

“I do not, my pretty one,” he replied, letting go of your chin at last, “you’re above that. You’re mine.”

“So… if I turned into a literal worm, I still wouldn’t be an insect to you?” you asked, unsure what point you were trying to make exactly.

“You’re pushing your luck here, brat,” Sukuna replied in a serious tone despite surrendering to an amused smile.

“So I wouldn’t be…?” you asked with some hope.

“Ideally, you wouldn’t become such a disgusting thing to begin with,” he replied in a mock shudder, “but I suppose you would have been the only worm I’d have ever liked.”

Seeming satisfied with his response, you finally relaxed once again and that’s right about when he pressed the fruit to your lips to continue from where you both left off.

[writingoddess1125]

Marillenfleck in Winter

König x FemReader

Fluffy Fluff Fluff!

Feed me Seymore Feed me!! <<< 🍖

"We can do this-"

You muttered to yourself and then down at your swollen stomach. Feeling the fluttering kicks of the child locked inside of you- assuming that was them agreeing.

"Hell yeah-"

Stepping forward with all the confidence you could muster as you carefully lowered the breaded pork cutlet into the hot oil and watching it carefully bubble as you let it settle.

Stepping back as the oil reacted for a moment before settling-

Two months ago before your husband left for his mission was lying in bed with you, his hand on your stomach as he reminisced-

'It is moments like this I almost wish to return to my Village just to show you off.. and share in some food with you' He mused, you looking at him in surprise.

'Wait we don't live near your home?' You say surprised, Having always assumed that König had chosen the secluded cabin 40 minutes from the closest village cause he was familiar with it. He chuckled at this and shook his head-

'No, I'm from near Dürnstein-'

Which was on the otherside of the country from were the two of you lived- You silently vowed to bring at least a taste of his home to him-

So for two months you'd been gathering ingredients and experimenting to make some folds from his home-town.

Did you have any real idea what you were doing?- No.

Did you know if these were ment to be eaten together?- Hell No.

Were you trying your best? Absolutely.

Speaking of trying your best- it was dead winter, 7inches of snow a day easy and what doesn't grow in winter?

Apricots-

So many Apricots in most of these recipes from near his home. Apricots cakes, wines, pastries, even in sauces with pork!

So you finding apricots was the most important thing. You tried the internet but didn't trust the quality from most places or they were dried which wouldn't have worked-

That's when you ventured out being forced to touch grass- Well snow in this case.

Market after market, looking in their freezer section to produce you couldnt find shit for the first 2 weeks of this adventure.

You were honestly thankful you were pregnant since when you went to the village closest to you asking for apricots in dead of winter- people assumed it was a desperate cry for a craving and a older women gave you a bag of them from her deep freeze she had saved. You of course paid her handsomely for the kind gift

This thrn started your dark road of trying to figure out these fucking recipes-

You tried every recipe and varient you could, pulling up photos of restaurants near your husband's origin and trying to match them-

Another blessing of being pregnant was being able to eat any failed attempts or trying recipes that wasn't going to be fed to König.

However the time had finally come! König was going to be home within the next hour, having called you the night before from his train station to tell you his arrival and you'd fluttered to make sure everything looked perfect.

"Alexa! Set a timer for 20 minutes!" You called out, flipping the cutlet seeing the even golden crust.

Reaching over you check the goulash stewing in the pot and saw it was almost done. Stirring it once before you checked on the bread dumplings and pulled them from the boiling water- You hadn't made these before in your experimental 2 months so you were excited!

Bacon Bread dumplings- Time to taste!

Taking a big bite you paused- truthfully confused over what the fuck you'd just put into your mouth. Chewing for a while as you tried to figure out if you'd done something wrong or if your taste was more off then you thought due to the baby- after the second bite you knew it was the baby and not the food especially whem you spooned some of the goulash ontop.

"...You know what, I'm just gonna blame you for this-" You said pointing at your stomach which earned another fluttering feeling as you finished the dumpling and stew sample.

Pulling the cutlets you let them sit on a wire rack as you plate the potatos and salad Konig liked- However your eyes landed on the centerpiece of this meal and what you were so focused one. The Marillenfleck Cake.

Still cooling as the beautiful Fluffy pastry showed off its shivered almost and the delicate apricots baked into its Fluffy self.

A summer apricot staple you'd manage to drag into winter!

You suddently heard the sound of the truck pulling up to your home, jumping in excitement you set the finished goulash down on the table and rushed around for the final touches.

Setting the plates down you mentally high-five yourself and rush to the front room as you hear König walk in. Grumbling about the snow outside as he kicked off his boots-

"Welcome Home Honey" You say cheerfully, wadling yourself over to your man- He had his mask off, most likely shoved away in his pockets in desperate need of a wash and he seemed to have showered at base since the black paint wasnt around his eyes-

Soft gray eyes greeted you and König gave a wide smile, reaching out and scooping you quickly in his arms and kissing your lips.

"I have missed you Liebling, You and the baby are well?" He asked softly as his gloved hand touched the swell of your stomach.

"Yes, We are fine. I'm so glad your home" You say cheerfully, feeling your eyes get misty already just by having him home.

"I have a surprise for you" You say cheerfully and jump, making the man chuckle at your physical excitement or attempt since the belly seemed to keep your feet planted.

"Oh?" He chimed amused, peeling off his coat and gloves as you pulled him to the kitchen and waiting set dining table.

When König saw all the food, his heart fluttered. He saw how much time this took, slowly stepping forward as he gazed over your heard work in total shock.

"(Y/N)- You did so much.. You should be resting not slaving in the kitchen" He said softly, looking at you in worry for your effort in the fantastic meal set on the table.

"I wanted to give you a nice surprise, You hungry?" You saw with a smile- Konig chuckling at this as he nodded, pulling out your chair so you could sit first before sitting himself.

Severing plates König couldn't help but laugh at the wide variety you'd made, from pork schnitzel and potato salad and the goulash and dumplings. Eating happily he hummed delight.

"I'm impressed! Very Gud Mein Liebling!" Demolishing the plates infront of him as the two of you sported casual conversation and König feeling your baby bump-

"And for dessert" You say cheerfully as you cut him a slice of the cake and set it before him. His face twisting in confusion.

"Liebling were did you get marillen {apricots} in winter?-" He asked genuinely confused as he cut into the pastry clearly doing a lot of mental math in trying to figure out how you manages this.

"It's a long story, but I got them!" You said cheerfully cutting open your own and taking a massive bite- Giving a laugh at how delicious it tasted and how you'd managed to not fuck anything up.

Raising a brow of this he hesitated ever so slightly before taking a bit of the dessert and paused, his eyes softening as an almost sad smile hit his lips.

"Konig?.." You say softly as he looked to you- His own eyes misty.

"I haven't had this cake since my Mutti made it for me before she passed-" He said softly, taking another bite of the dessert and smiling. Your heart Sinking at his words-

"I was always so scared to try it again since I knew it wouldn't taste the same" He smiled fondly as he reached out and pulled your seat close to him, love in his gaze.

"I don't know how- But youve made it taste just like the one she made" He said softly, wrapping his arm around you as he kissed your hair and you could feel the waves of emotion off of him.

"Danke my love" He said softly, lips still pressed to your hair as he held you tighter. Of course hormones not helping as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Anytime"

[yandere-sins]

Favorite

You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.

Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)

a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend. 

It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn. 

Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them. 

Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"Hello, darling."

You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.

The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night. 

Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.

He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you. 

Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course. 

You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.

"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.

Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position. 

You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.

You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.

"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.

"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows. 

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes. 

"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."

His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head. 

"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."

A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace. 

"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."

You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"

"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."

This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear. 

"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"

The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words. 

Favorite. You were his favorite.

You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt. 

"You're my undoing, pet."

"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."

Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.

 "It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."

"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.

"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."

And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees. 

You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.

"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.

Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."

"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."

It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."

"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything. 

"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."

"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food. 

"Oh, the food!" 

His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it. 

"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything,  I promise."

His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.

"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."

There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.

"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."

"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin. 

"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."

For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.

"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."

"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now. 

"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."

There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?

But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place. 

 "That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake. 

You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care. 

By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.

"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."

You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead. 

"And you're mine. All mine."

At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.

And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.

Because you were his favorite.

And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.

[hockeymenarehot]

Late Night Calls Feat. Bill Kaulitz

pairing: best friend!bill kaulitz x fem!reader

summary: bill kaulitz has always been your best friend, and you've always confided to him. when you wake up startled from a nightmare, you decide to call him. what you don't expect are his feelings towards you.

warnings: smut, fem reader, phone sex, masturbation (fem. & m.), squirting, praise, pet names (darling, princess), it's implied he steals your panties, u cry and it turns him on, depictions of nightmares, lmk if I missed anything!

for my bae: @billkaulitzbaeee

You heave in a large amount of air, your body shooting up from its once peaceful resting spot. Your eyes frantically survey your room, and you clutch the silky smoothness of your nightgown as you attempt to collect your thoughts. Just a dream, it was just a dream you repeat in your head as you feel the cool air of your fan, the sweat on your forehead slowly dissipating. The attempt to calm yourself seemed to be working for your mind, but not so much your body. Your heart was still beating at a fast pace, and your ears still had a subtle ring. Deciding that trying to get some sleep on your own would be futile, you slowly reached for your phone.

3:38 A.M.

You weren't sure if your best friend, Bill, would pick up his phone but decided that it was more likely he would. He would do almost anything for you and you knew that. You found comfort in his presence, from his subtle sweet touches to his kind words. He was always there for you. You searched through the sea of your contacts before finding his number, giving it one final thought before pressing the Call button.

Ring, ring. Two full rings before he picks up.

"Hello?"

His voice sounded husky, like you had just awoken him from what might've been the best sleep of his life. Feeling guilty about this quite obvious realization you muster up a meek "Hi," and you begin to question if this was actually a good idea. I mean, it isn't like you've never been vulnerable with him before, but this time seemed so much different.

You couldn't tell what it was that was off, but something about it made you feel a little embarrassed, shameful even. Almost as if you'd walked in on him doing something he wouldn't want you to see. And honestly, you were enjoying it. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" You whisper, still feeling a certain amount of guilt. "No, no, not at all. I barely sleep." Liar, you thought to yourself. "Is there something you needed? Did something happen?" His voice had a slight sense of urgency to it, which you found quite endearing. "No... well, sort of," you begin quietly "I had a nightmare..." Your voice left your mouth in almost a whine, and you could almost catch the way his breath hitched over the poor phone quality. "I'm sorry, darling" That name he had never referred to you by. Strange. "Tell me... tell me what happened." Some shuffling on his end. You began telling him about the great atrocities of your nightmare, all of the chasing and adrenaline. The monsters you would see around every corner, or maybe your lost loved ones. He would acknowledge you every so often with a short "Hm," or "I'm sorry" to let you know he was still listening. Or at least to keep you under the impression that he was. He truly did care about you and your wellbeing, its just in all honesty you were perfectly fine. Your voice sounded so perfect to his ears, and the subtle whines and borderline moans you would serve him as you described your nightmare had him in a shameful position. One you had yet to pick up on, and this was annoying him. He decided he was going to test the waters. "Nggh-" Silence. "Are.. are you okay? You sound hurt." There was a level of surprise and concern in your voice, still trying to interpret the noise that just left his mouth. "I'm fine, don't worry about me darling. Just keep running your pretty mouth." You had no reason to question him or his honesty, so you continued. Your story of your nightmare turned into more stories of previous nightmares, some even worse than the one you had experienced tonight. But you trusted him with all this information, and it felt good to finally get it off your chest. Eventually, the recollection of all these horrible visions brought tears to the corners of your eyes. Your voice began to quiver as the tears fell down your face and rolled onto your plush comforter, leaving tiny damp spots. Not even 30 seconds into your crying session, and you heard a loud moan from his end, along with an undeniable squelching noise. This left you speechless, before you said "Are you?..." His breath hitched once more "Fuck princess, so you finally caught on. So sorry... You have no idea how crazy you make me. When you called me whining 'n moaning I just couldn't help myself." You felt your heart skip about two beats at his words, your face heating up and painting your cheeks a rosy pink. He would probably tease you if he could see you. "I- I had no idea you, um, that of me like.. that." You heard a sarcastic sounding laugh before he spoke again "You're telling me you had no idea? Come on princess, I know you aren't that stupid. Plus, I know you feel it too." His voice was still coated with the same huskiness as he spoke. "Bill, I have no idea what you're talking about. You aren't making any sense!" You whisper yelled. "Really? Don't play dumb with me. You don't think I see the way you look at me? The way you clench your thighs every time I so much as brush your arm? The way you stutter any time I compliment you? You can't do all that and leave me hangin', princess." You took a moment to think before noticing how hard your thighs were pressed together, and how your core was aching. Aching for him. You never wanted to acknowledge this part of yourself, the part that wanted him so badly. But as he's on the other end of the phone fisting his cock to the mere sound of your voice, you come to the conclusion that you're passed the point of return.

So, with shame you let out a strained whisper "Please," and you hear him groan on the other side of the line. You can tell he's been waiting for this. "Please what, princess? Use your words, I know you can." Your ears pick up some subtle sqeulching sounds again, so you swallow your pride and try your best to stabilize your voice "Please help me cum, I need you. Need you so bad." This apparently satisfies him. "That's my girl. Why don't you take off those pretty panties for me? I know you're wearing those pretty pink ones that you wear so much. Just for me, huh?" You choose to ignore the implications of his words, too focused on the increasing noises he's making and the fire in the pit of your stomach. Doing as your told you remove your pink panties and throw them onto the floor, bunching up the buttery silk of your nightgown to give you better access to your soaking cunt. "Now what?" you groan, feeling your neediness increase. "Mm, Fuck. Bet you're so wet. I bet you can already take two fingers. Do that for me. Fuck your fingers, I know you can." You whine at his words, feeling your arousal pool onto your comforter. But you do as your told, trailing your cool fingers down your abdomen and towards your aching pussy. "Nuh-uh, pretty girl. Need you to put the phone next to your sweet cunt. Need to hear the way your fingers go in 'n out." Your face heats up with embarrassment at his words, but you comply as your move the phone to rest in between your thighs. You continue your previous minstrations, using two fingers to prod at your wet hole. You swirl your fingers, gathering your juices before plunging your fingers into your pussy. "Ha-!" You let out a high-pitched moan as your fingers travel deeper and deeper, slowly alleviating the aching in your stomach. "Oh, fuck. Just like that, princess." You hear Bill moan, followed by increased noises of him sliding his hand up and down his impressive length. The fact that he was getting off to just the noises you made egged you on even further, using your fingers to try and navigate towards your g-spot. "Say my- shit- name, baby." Not wanting to dissapoint, you loudly mewl "Bill!" as your fingers find there way to your sweet spot, repeatedly brushing up against it. Bills moans gain in ther frequency and pitch, which you find hot. "Are you close? I bet you are. Come with me, princess." His words make you loudly moan, your second hand coming down to rub fast circles on your clit. You hear Bill let out a final grunt as he comes, "Oh fuck, Y/n!" Him moaning your name as he orgasms has your back arching off your bed, your fingers pinching at your clit. You fuck yourself onto your fingers hitting your g-spot, and your abdomen tensing before your juices spray onto your bedsheets. You're left a twitching mess as you chant his name like it's the only word you've ever been taught. You pull your hand away from your clit and your fingers out of your pussy, allowing your back to find a resting place on your bed again.

"You did so well for me, princess. Now that you're all nice and wet for me, why don't you come over and see how well you can take my cock?"

a/n: i hope u enjoyed! i haven't wrote in a couple months, so i might be a little rusty. if you have any ideas or prompts, feel free to send in a request! :)

[hwangism143]

limbo (part 1)

synopsis: five years ago, lee minho had broken your heart. but five years ago, unbeknown to you, he had also broken his

pairing: non-idol!minho x non-idol!fem reader

warnings: angst, angst, angst. mentions of a breakup and being heartbroken. phrases using the words 'knife' and 'drowning'

word count: 1.6k words

masterlist I part 2

"you took the best of my heart, and left it all in pieces"

then (five years ago).

The moon was always your favorite companion. It made you feel protected. During every important moment in your life, the moon was always there with you. It's silver glow shone on you and your surroundings, dousing everything in an ethereal light.

You prayed that night, for the moon to give you courage.

Minho walked over to you, carrying two lemonades in his hands. Oh, he was beautiful. Even if he was wearing a loose fitting over-sized hoodie and jeans that he had grabbed when you suggested this spontaneous late-night walk, he looked like the world revolved around him.

"Here," he said, sitting down beside you. He quietly sipped his drink and each time he brought the cup to his lips, your heart sank further. He wasn't even looking at you. Since the past few days, all your interactions felt transactional.

All you interactions felt like they had lost the love that used to be infused in them.

"I got a job offer," you say softly, willing for him to look at you. You wait patiently for his response.

"Oh," is all he can muster.

You feel numb. "Oh?" you ask. You hesitate, "Minho, you aren't even looking at me. Look at me."

His face slowly snaps towards yours. Minho's eyes reflect a tired, dull expression. His hair falls to one side and his mouth is slightly open, releasing a puff of breath.

"When did you fall out of love with me?" you ask, eyes shining with tears of hope and fear.

"I don't think I did," comes his cold response.

"Really, because-"

"I don't think I fell in love with you in the first place," he abruptly says.

A tear of anguish and hurt rolled down your right cheek. This time, you're the one who takes a while to say anything. You feel like you're crumbling. Sure, you hadn't known each other for that long, but how could he be so cruel? Why lead you on like this? Why whispers empty affirmations of love when he never fell in the first place?

That night, Minho lay in bed alone. You were at your parents house. You had told him to pack your things and send it to your parents. You were gone. The bed felt cold and empty. It felt like all the light in the house had been snuffed out. And Minho?

Minho felt utterly and completely broken. He had no other word for it. It felt like the parts of his body were tossed around everywhere, like his brain had completely shut down. He couldn't function. His better half had left him and all he had was himself, purely imperfect and unable to do anything.

Minho lied to you. The part about not falling out of love was true. But the reason he lied was because he was still in so, so much love.

He cursed himself for loving you so much. Maybe if he was a little selfish, maybe if he wanted something for himself, you would still be here with him. Maybe you would still be here for him. However, he loved you so much, that he knew he had to let you go.

When he saw the email with the job offer on your computer, the world froze. Minho knew you had the beautiful and lethal quality of loving so viscerally that you would devote yourself wholly to the person you loved. Minho on the other hand, considered love to be a fleeting entity. He knew that you would refuse to follow your dreams, citing distance as a reason to stay in Seoul with him, for a love that would possibly even fizzle out down the road.

That was the day Minho decided that he would have to let you spread your wings as he clipped his.

Minho figured that arguing with you to go would be pointless. You would continue to push the argument until the date of confirmation had passed. And so, he took up the heart-breaking endeavor of making you seem like it was never love. The only way that you would let go of the love you shared was if you thought it was never even love at all.

It was a painful process, making it seem like he didn't love you anymore. Every fallen smile, every quick glance made it feel like a knife was twisting inside Minho. He considered backing out and begging you to stay multiple times. Absolutely not, he would chide himself whenever those thoughts entered his mind, I must let her go for her own happiness.

Even Minho's beloved cats knew he betrayed them. They barely came to him and snarled at him as he shuffled around, a ghost in his own home. He began packing up your things handling them with a care and affection he could no longer show you.

There were so many tidbits of the journey of your relationship around the house. Each one brought back a flood of memories that temporarily paralyzed Minho. Tickets from the first movie you went to, your books and the couple items that you both owned. The cup with your lipstick stain and the brownies you had poorly attempted to bake. The gifts you had gotten him and the the trinkets he had gotten you.

Those inanimate objects belonged more in the house you both shared than Minho did.

He packed everything up when his eyes fell on your favorite, oversized sweater. The cats would not budge from their home in the sweater, looking up at him with steely glares. It smelled like you, he thought.

"Please," his voice broke, "I need it. I need to give it to her. Please."

He collapsed next to the sweater and let out a shaky breath. "Please." His cats didn't move.

Silent cries and quiet pain filled the room.

now (five years later).

Minho was sitting in the SoDoNg lobby. Being the owner of one of the most successful cat café franchises in Korea was certainly... humbling. Seungmin and Jeongin, the finances and socials managers respectively, bickered over coffee flavors. The head chef of the Seoul branch, Felix, watched as the cafe's designer Hyunjin drew a sketch of the plant sitting in front of him.

All of them being here made sense, but Minho wondered what Changbin, Han and Chan were doing here. The music producing trio were here all the time anyways, now they were even present during the business meetings.

Although, considering how they hadn't spoken a word about business, Minho thought that Sunday brunch might have been a more befitting moniker for the meet-up.

"Damn hyung," said Changbin, "Y/N turned hot."

Minho didn't spare him a glance. None of them knew the whole truth of what had happened, just that she'd gotten a job and that the two of them broke up. Minho could feel Hyunjin studying him intently. The hopeless romantic of the group was always trying to set up the other boys to make up the absence of romance in his own life.

"Look, I just hope she's happy. We're done and I bet she doesn't even remember me."

You wondered how he was. Some of your mutual friends had said that Minho was an owner of a chain of cat cafes. You were slightly surprised, never taking him as the business executive type. Only the cat part made sense to you.

You despised him for what he did to you. Because of him, you couldn't love properly anymore. Anytime you felt yourself falling or somebody else told you they were falling, you pushed them away. You couldn't suffer from the heartbreak of finding out that the love you had deluded yourself into thinking you were happy in was an illusion.

The thought of coming back to Seoul filled you with dread. What if you saw him again? What would happen then? You wanted to slap him. You needed to hear an apology from him. You would probably end up bursting into to tears.

These were the thoughts that clouded your mind as you made your way to the dairy section of the grocery store. Working abroad had definitely changed you. You felt so much more mature and confident. Maybe not in the romantic sense, but it felt like your skin truly fit over your bones. You had grown out your hair, changed your style and decided to reflect who you were, not who the world wanted you to be.

You tried to reach for the ricotta cheese at the top of the open freezer. Another thing that had changed were your cooking skills. Back when you lived with Minho, and even before that, he always insisted on cooking for you. Now, you had to fend for yourself.

"Excuse me," you ask the man in front of you, "can you please get down the ricotta cheese for me? I can't reach and I would really appreciate it."

Minho stilled. He recognized that voice. He would recognize it anywhere, no matter where he was.

It was the voice that whispered 'I love you' to him for the first time. It was the voice that scolded him playfully, that told him he was perfect. It was the voice that had shakily asked him if he didn't love anymore. It was the voice that he played in recordings when he felt like he was drowning in loneliness. It was the voice that he willed himself to forget and couldn't for the life of him.

Minho quietly handed the ricotta to you without even turning towards you. You thought there was something familiar about him.

"I'm sorry if this is a weird questions but, do I know you?" you asked tentatively.

Minho should have said no. He should have walked away and spared both of you the agony of seeing each other again. But this time, he let himself be selfish. He left himself fulfill his desires, his urge to see you in all you beauty and all you glory.

Minho turned to face you.

"Minho?"

a/n: haha. i have delivered you a steaming platter of pain. if you want, i'll maybe make a pt. 2?? anyways, drop your feedback, and honestly anything you wanna say, below!

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Escape to the Eden Club - Sister! reader x Shelby Brothers

Summary; Emily Shelby wants to spend the night away from the confines of Small Heath and decides to head out to the famed Eden Club of London. All was well until a certain trio arrived and reigned havoc.

Author's Note; I took some liberties with the plot/ location of the Eden Club itself. That being said, this is still meant to be aligned closely with the fight scene from season 2. As always, let me know what you think.

Eager to escape into the cool evening air, Emily wrapped her shawl loosely around her shoulders and took stock of her purse. A small roll of bills, lipstick, a dainty opal hairbrush, and a shining Colt Pocket Hammerless Arthur had given her some time ago. With one last glance to the mirror, she smoothed out her dress and went for her bedroom door, shutting it softly behind her. Seeing as Polly would still be at the church for sometime, she decided it would be best to inform her brother on her intentions. Emily approached Thomas’ office and peered in to see the stout man sitting behind his modest desk. She rapped lightly on the door frame and was beckoned inside by just a flick of her brother’s eyes instead of a word. After only taking one step into the room she spoke in the most clear, confident tone she could muster.

“I’m going out with Ada this evening. I’ll be back by midnight.” Hoping the conversation would end there she turned to leave only to be stopped by her brothers words. Still not looking up from the papers spread across the wood before him he cleared his throat and said,

“Going out with Ada, eh? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” Emily rolled her eyes, hoping her brother didn’t see, and replied,

“Because I didn’t think there would be any issue.” Emily didn’t like lying, a quality instilled in her by her Aunt Polly since her youth. Though, as a Shelby, it came naturally. Exhausting Emily further, Thomas continued in his questioning. 

“Where about are you two going?” Calmer this time, as to not arouse suspicion, the girl replied, 

“Just to dinner, in Digbeth.” 

“The name of the establishment?” With more attitude, she replied, 

“The Carriage.” The man sat for a moment, only sparing her one more glance as he searched her face for deceit. He apparently found none. 

“Be back by 11.” Emily offered a small smile and made her way out of the home on Watery Lane, calling over her shoulder, 

“I’ll see you at 11:30, Tom.” 

The night was still young and the chance for her to walk the streets of Birmingham alone and untethered was an excitement of a life time. She wouldn’t just be walking the streets of her hometown tonight, though. After meeting her friend Scarlett by the cut they hailed a cab and set out for London. 

The passage was just under 2 hours before they arrived to the Eden Club just outside of the city. After tipping the cabman and exiting out into the brisk night they set for the front doors of the avant-garde establishment. Scarlet giggled with excitement as they approached the doorman who knew better than to question two striking young women trying to enter the club. The main hall filled was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and the band played on to ring in the young night. It wasn’t often that Emily got to leave the holdings of Small Health, let alone the claws of her brothers. After Ada’s departure, Thomas was more worried than ever about loosing his youngest sister. This fear often manifested into the overarching control of Emily’s every move. He felt it was both an act of love and an act of necessity. Emily knew she was deeply loved by her brother and cared for him in the same way. Yet, at the end of the day, if Tom could have his thumb on the pulse of every member of the family, only then could he ensure their safety, or so he believed. 

“Isn’t this amazing!” Scarlett squealed in Emily’s ear. Scarlett was one of the few friends that Thomas approved of. She came from a respectable, working-class family who raised horses and often did work with the Shelby family. 

“I know.” Emily said back, raising her voice to soar over the loud music. The pair approached the bar and beckoned the attendant for a drink. Soon after, two men approached the women introducing themselves as Paul, a tall man with short black hair in a pressed grey suit, and David, a slightly stout man with dusty blonde hair and rosy cheeks who’s slim black suit made him look taller than he was. Paul explained that Emily had caught his eye from the moment she had walked in and it would be a crime to let a woman like herself buy her own drinks. It was only out of the confines of Birmingham that handsome men would approach her, unafraid of people she was related to. She could speak freely and finally feel a sense of control she was never afforded at home. 

“Would you care to dance?” Paul asked the young woman and carefully took her hand in his. They left their drinks at the table where David and Scarlett sat completely enthralled with one another. He led her to the dance floor just as a new song started over at the bands stage. Spinning around the floor Emily couldn’t help but laugh at the happiness she felt in Paul’s arms. He leaned in close to her face and breathed, 

“You are absolutely stunning.” His breath smelled of bourbon and lust. This was Emily’s dream; to be young and free. Finally she was living it. 

She only noticed the violent outburst taking place across the large room once she heard the crashing noise of a wooden table full of glassware hit the ground. The band cut to a halt and gasps filled the audience. Out of instinct, Paul shoved Emily behind him as he assessed the situation. When it became clear that the men dressed in black meant to do harm he ushered his date back to their table to collect their friends and make a run for the door. Through the crowd, Emily peered over the bobbing heads of patrons ducking and running at the chaos she noticed a familiar jacket fly up as one of the unknown assailants struck another man across the face. As he turned to face another man she saw the face of her brother adorned with a busted lip and small drops of another mans blood. 

“Fuck.” She whispered and made a run for her table. Scarlett and her companion had already gathered their things and stood to meet the other couple. The four of them hid behind the large sofa they had once sat on while they waited for a path to clear to the main exit of the building. Emily grabbed her friend by the arm and swung the girl around to meet her scared face. The two men were conversing anxiously at the best plan of escape while the women spoke in hushed words. 

“It my fucking brother!” 

“What?” Scarlett gasped “Are you sure?” The two women peered over the couch to see the men still going at it near the center of the room. This time, Arthur’s face came into view through the madness. 

“Fuck it’s the lot of them. We need to go. Now!” Emily shoved the other girl forward and the men followed suit. A gunshot rang out through the building and they all dropped to the floor covering their heads. Paul grabbed Emily’s shoulders hovered his body over hers to protect her. When the men quit fighting and stood to see where the shot had come from all became quiet. The four took this opportunity to head straight for the exit. Emily only heard the indistinct echo of Tommy’s voice before clearing the doorway. 

Pouring into the street patrons ran every conceivable direction to vacate the path of anymore possible bullets. After reaching the end of the block Paul spoke, out of breath. 

“Is everyone ok?” Each took their turn affirming that they were not hurt, just a bit shaken. Emily turned to her friend communicating with just their eyes that they all needed to get leave before her brothers had a chance to exit the building. “Alright, I need to get you home.” Paul said and took Emily’s shoulder and David followed suit with Scarlett. 

“No!” Emily said too forcefully, “I - We will get home, I promise. You need to get on your way,” she explained gently. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to go anywhere with Paul, that handsome, caring gentleman. He stood firm on his words and said again,

“Emily, really, I need to make sure you get home. I don’t know who the fuck those bastards were.” Scarlett let out a worried laugh at the irony of the situation and still couldn’t take her eyes off the doorway expecting any moment that the men would emerge and see them. Emily took her arm from him though it pained her to do so. 

“Please, Paul, really. You need to get going.” She said urgently. He took a step back and dropped his eyes to the ground, looking hurt. Defeated, he touched David on the shoulder, prompting him to let go of Scarlett’s arm. 

“It was lovely meeting you,” was all he spoke before turning and walking off into the dark alley way. Emily rifled around in her purse and pulled out some small bills shoving them into Scarlett’s hand. 

“Go. Now!” She said before beginning to turn away. 

“What? I’m not leaving you!” Her friend yelled back, grabbing onto her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Scarlett, go! Please. Before they come out.” She pleaded. Even her friend knew that there would be hell to pay if her family found out that she had been running around, getting into trouble with the Shelby girl. With eyes darting between the front door of the Eden Club and Emily’s worried expression Scarlett forced herself to embrace her friend. 

“Please be safe.” Emily nodded in response and they both took off into opposite directions. After quickly crossing in front of the building, the younger Shelby tried her best to hail a cab as many former club goers tried to do the same. Every few seconds she found herself looking over her shoulder praying that she wouldn’t turn to find her brother’s red face looking back at her. After a few failed attempts she saw a empty taxi just across the way parked right next to the entrance of the club. If she hurried, she might just be able to make it before her brothers emerged. With a quick decision she bolted as fast as her heels would carry her across the street and made it just steps the the cab door before she felt the shoulder of a much larger man connect with her own. As she was shoved back onto the hood of the cab she couldn’t help but shout,

“watch where yer’ fucking goin!” Just as any other Shelby would. She watched in anger as that very man climbed into the cab himself and the car began to drive away forcing her to move back onto the side walk. Collecting herself and still cursing the man under her breath she only made it a few steps from her place in front of the club before she heard her name called from behind her. 

It was John. The word pierced her soul like a knife. Without thinking, she swung around to see him standing only about 10 feet behind her as Thomas and Arthur filed out of the door. Without a second to reconsider, she ran. Though slowed down by her shoes and the lingering effects of alcohol, she carried herself briskly down the street. 

“Emily Lenora Shelby!” She heard Arthur roar from behind her. Continuing down the sidewalk shoving between the still clearing crowd she did not stop. Just before she reached the nearest intersection a strong hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around causing her to stumble. She was caught by her oldest brother’s hands of either shoulder lightly shaking her to emphasize each word as they came from his red, blood splattered face. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you bloody mental?” She squinted to shield herself from the yelling as she put her hands to his chest to push him away. He wasn’t planning on letting her go lest she run again until he felt the hand of Tom guide him away from the younger girl. She almost preferred the outright rage of Arthur over the chilling coldness of Thomas, at least with the former, his true intentions were always clear. John soon arrived behind the men and took to consoling Arthur while Thomas pushed the girl to side of the road. Unwilling, she attempted to hold her ground against the man though a stronger grip on her upper arm and a stern look from his piercing eyes encouraged her to comply. She kept her head low has he was still catching his breath from the conflict and subsequent jog to catch his fleeing sister. Finally, in a low, gruff voice, he spoke. 

“In the club, ye?” She nodded her head but still wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Instead, she peered past him to see John and Arthur leaned in close to one another talking. Arthur waving his hands around like a lunatic while John tries to calm him down. Out of all her brothers, her and John butted heads the most. Maybe it was the age difference, sitting at just enough years to give them not much in common but enough to argue about. Though, when it was all said and done, she knew John would have her back just as much, if not more, than anyone else. She met his eyes in a quick glance before turning back to Tom’s shoes. Now, the more pragmatic Shelby took in a deep breath to gather his thoughts before continuing the conversation with his sister. 

“Why? Eh?” He said quieter this time. She couldn’t tell if his low voice was an attempt to deescalate the situation or to intimidate her into telling the truth. Well, the truth as it may be, wasn’t that interesting. Emily shrugged and only spared him a small glance up. She went to the Eden club that evening for the same reason as any other girl of her year would; to have fun. 

“You have no business being at those clubs. Getting yourself fucking killed, right?” He said lowering himself to her level, even closer to her face. Her jaw tensed as she thought of a thousand words she could say back to him.

“Everything was fine until you bastards shot up the place.”

“Weren’t you just at the same club, Tom?”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

Using her better judgment though, she held her tongue. The irony of the situation was not lost on Tommy. He knew that the standard he held for his sister was much different than he held for the men of the family, though he held it steadfast. At the end of the day, he knew Emily was a good girl. Smart, calculated, quick, and usually honest. When the silence hung in the air for too long, he took a gentle hand and guided her face to meet his eyes. 

“Don’t scare me like that again.” He said pointedly with his finger pointed at her face. Emily pursed her lips and gave a curt nod before he pulled her in for a quick but firm hug and placed one kiss on the top of her head. Trying to break away from the clutches are her brother once more she took a step away from Thomas and said, 

“I’ll see you at home,” before attempting to leave in the opposite direction. He let out a sigh once again and wrapped a strong, possessive hand around her arm once more. His lips parted and he eyebrow went up in astonishment, almost as if he was testing her to defy him once again. She looked in his eyes a moment longer, unwavering, before following him back to the other men. Thomas cleared his throat and released the grasp on the girl before speaking, 

“Let’s just go home, shall we.” The four walked in uncomfortable silence back to the car, just over a block away from the fateful scene. As they walked, her oldest brother moved closer to her eventually putting a hand on her upper back and bending down to her level.

“You knows I just want to protect you, right, love?” He offered in a nicer tone than before. Emily knew and nodded a reply. 

“I know.” 

“It’s just you can’t go running around like that.” Before he could get another sentence out, Thomas called out from the front of the group. 

“She knows, brother.”  They eventually made it to the Bentley and it was John that opened the door for his sister to enter the back seat. As she took the less-than-sober step up into the vehicle her brother gently pushed her, just to see how unstable she was.

“Acting like a fuckin’ harlot,” John laughed quietly to chastise the younger girl. Quickly, Emily turned to face him hunched over in the car and raised her purse as if she was going to hit him. 

“Oi, you fuckin’ bastard!” She seethed. Before the two could go at it Thomas darted a look at them in the rear view mirror and raised his voice in a menacing shout. 

“Enough!” Was all it took for the pair to quiet down and sit silently for the rest of the ride home. 

[sunny-speaks]

Hacker! Ren Headcanons

Basically just hc’s abt what ren does in his free time watching u, yk, normal stuff

Character(s): Ren/[REDACTED] from @14dayswithyou and mild mention of Harper from @/campwillowpeak

A/N: Definitely check out Camp Willowpeak if you have the time! Great VN in progress!

Trigger warnings: Minor panic attack after ‘And it is the worst feeling in all of Corland Bay.’

Um, mention of NSFW and kinks etc. Minors DNI !

Ren spends every waking hour of the day trying to be as close to you as he can possibly muster.

He just wants to be there with you in some shape or form!

The best days for him are the weekends, you don’t have to work and you can stay home all day if you choose to!

Some of his favorite things to watch you do is watch your anime, read fanfiction and a bunch of other things that help with his research.

When you indulge in your fixations, it helps Ren change himself accordingly to whatever you like at the moment!

You like science-y guys? Luckily for you, he took Biology and Chemistry in high school!

Totally not to figure out how to kill people effectively or clean up bloodstains, what???

You like artsy guys? He makes these amazing collages and collections of photography! Also took painting and art in high school!

Once again, totally not because he wanted the best drawings/paintings of you or the best high quality photos for his shrine, whaaat???

But having you read fanfiction is much more interesting to him.

He can see the types of characters you like to read about, your favorite genre, your favorite pairings, your favorite character dynamics…

Whether you prefer sunshine characters with a dark side, characters who look like they could kill you but are actually cinnamon rolls, two idiots + one brain cell, it’d all help him further his agenda of manipulating you to love him making him perfect for you!

And if you go into the NSFW section? He is frothing at the mouth.

This is his chance!! He can figure out what you prefer in the bedroom and win you over with his seduction skills! (not that he needs any ofc… have u seen him??? His dick is like 10 inches, that's a seduction skill on its own…)

(and maybe sometimes he takes advantage of the cameras around your place to listen in and watch you do some… intimate activities)

Whether you like submissive guys or dominant guys or service tops or brats, Ren is all for it! If you’re into some kinky shit, he might not be too into it, but he’ll give it a try for you!!

But if you share one of his massive kinks (ex. Breeding, marking) dude, you are so fucked.

Ren is straight up praying to his shrine that he can be the only one to fulfill your desires because, whoa, he would be soo good to you if you gave him a chance. He would literally cry if you wanted him to do whatever he liked to you.

Also you both like the same shit??? You were clearly meant to be!!

He sees you scrolling on social media and calling yourself delulu? (just like him ong) Don’t worry, he’ll be there so you can fufill your delusions!!

You’ll never have to be delusional again now that you have him!!

Ren saw you scroll through your Tumblr feed, seemingly spending hours lurking on this one account of… Camp Treepeak, or something. It irked him when he saw you focusing on this one character who had you swooning.

So what if that dumb brunette was 6’9’’??? So what if he was a pyromaniac??? He was just a dumb game character, Ren was real! Besides, Ren was more than sure that those missing 4 inches of height between and that fictional guy went somewhere… else.

You didn’t know what you were missing out on!! Ren was right there, always waiting for you to notice him! If you gave him even the smallest chance, he’d swoop in and make your life a living romance visual novel if you wanted!

He could be anyone you wanted him to be! At all! If that’s what it takes for him to be yours, he’d do it in a heartbeat!

(I have brought this up before lmao) Would absolutely be down to try and cosplay any character you aggressively rave about to Moth.

While he absolutely detests Moth for being the one that you go to with this stuff, he can’t deny that it's useful for him to tap into the call, mute Moth on his own end and listen to you go on and on about whatever you’re rambling about at the moment.

Your voice is so pretty, like a canary… Birds remind him of freedom in some way, some days Ren would like to keep you captive, hide you away from the world.

But then he looks at himself in the mirror and he sees his father stare back.

And it is the worst feeling in all of Corland Bay.

He hums to himself, listening to you talk on and on to Moth but can’t help and think, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if I was the only one they ever sang to?’ and it sends Ren into a spiral of dark thoughts he immediately dry heaves at.

He’s trying so hard to focus on your melodic tone before he pants over the sink, body shaking. No, no, no, no.

No. He is not psychopathic. You are not something he can own. You are not his. That is not his decision. You have your voice. You are your own person.

“Hey, you alright?” Your calming voice shakes him out of his stupor. Of course, it did. It helped him get through nightmares, through hungover evenings where he just wanted to be with you, past his job when he felt demotivated.

Subconsciously, he knew you were just talking to Moth, but he couldn’t help but respond. “Y-yeah. I think so.”

“Mm, I feel that.”

Wow, maybe if he squinted, the two of you could be having a conversation! If it wasn’t for that lingering thought of his bastard dad, he would’ve been giggling on the couch, kicking his feet and twirling his hair.

…He was really getting into his Ren persona, wasn’t he…?

“Look, cheer up, things get better. I mean, my job’s no walk in the park, but it’s about the small wins!” He could hear the grin in your voice, you always managed to bring your emotions through audio, “Like, like! The other day, some guy on the street saw my subtle Attack on Giants jacket and stopped to me and said―”

“ ‘Yoo, is that AOG?’ “ Ren repeated the same words with a small smile on his face. He remembered how you reined in your expression before your face lit up as soon as you were by yourself.

You sighed and chuckled at whatever Moth had replied. “No, I am not a huge nerd. I simply have good taste. Oh yeah, remember how I told you about that one skater boy–” and your voice faded to background noise again.

Ren took a couple deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t his sperm donor, he’d be better. For you.

And the rest of his nights would be spent, adoringly adding to your shrine and his collection of your items.

Then he would lay in bed, clutching a pillow, wishing it were you he had to cuddle with but could settle for the plush, soft object until he finally won you over.

(personal headcanon that ren has one of those like, duck filled pillows he hugs instead of his stuffed toys which he leaves on display. Sometimes all the body parts just get in the way and he just wants to hug something soft… :(( like you :(( )

Which he would… one day.

[willowed-wisp]

HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part one

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Ser Harwin Strong x fem!OC/reader insert

WARNINGs: swearing, violence, suggestive themes. This will be an 18+ series.



It wasn’t easy, the pressure on her shoulders. Neither was being the eldest daughter to the King’s Hand.

Elspeth couldn’t marry for love, Otto would never allow it. Instead she had been prepared to make the highest match possible. Her father being the Hand of the King made that all too possible- brushing shoulders with royalty and noblemen. Unlike her younger sister- Elspeth didn’t hang on their father’s every word. She had a mind of her own and could muster her own life.

The nineteen year old could choose her friends, however. It just so happened that her best friend was found in the Princess of The Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra. It was fate. The pair were kindred in spirit, both quick to tempers raging hotter than dragon fyre.

Only the other understood that pent up rage. Caused from the years of pressure yet to pass. Elspeth was of age and Rhaenyra was at its cusp. Being born into the highest ranks of nobility meant marriage of convenience, a princess and daughter to the Hand weren’t above that duty.

And Elspeth knew that all too well.

“You have a duty to this family, Elspeth, you shall not be so selfish.” When she thought her father had redeeming qualities he would undermine her forgiveness. Always.

“I shan’t marry Jason Lannister! He is pompous, vile and twice my age!” Otto took a step forward, Elspeth a step back. His steely demeanour was too much for her to endure. Yet she stood mighty and true. He still stared down at her. “I’m not just something you can sell.”

“The only use you have to this House is to be wed,” she knew that. Every woman of high standing knew their only purpose l was to married and produce heirs. That didn’t mean Elspeth agreed with it. “The Gods are merciful, covering your antics in Oldtown.”

“I was only singing.” Dismissive, it wasn’t as greater deal as he made out.

“ Skirt up to your thighs, commoners around you… if your mother was alive…”

“My mother encouraged me to live! She would have been proud!”

“You looked like a common whore!” Her back to him- leaving Otto Hightower in his own company. Elspeth would not waste another breath. Elspeth Hightower never had and never would adhere to orders, least of all his.

This wasn’t Oldtown. And she wasn’t some ‘common whore’.

She needed to blow off some steam before self-implosion. How she wished she could ride a dragon; envious of Rhaenyra and Syrax. It hadn’t stopped her from learning the Valyrian tongue.

Elspeth required unbecoming relief.

Metal pummelled into straw, the Hightower punctuating her thoughts with a heaved swing.

‘Why do I have to marry?’

‘Why does he want rid of me?’

‘Why can’t I live my life by my own terms?’

That last one left the destructible mannequin ripped apart in a bedlam of hay on the ground.

She didn’t feel at all relieved. Dragon blood boiling, sometimes she felt like a Targaryen. “Who the fuck could tame me?” Spoken louder than intended- more of a shout. The woman didn’t mind, wearing trousers as a maiden was looked down upon. Especially in the eyes of her father.

Elspeth feared that these flames would one day consume herself. And she feared anybody caught in the crossfire. “Now, why in the Seven Kingdoms does Lady Hightower need taming?”

“She doesn’t.” The words spilled before she recognised the voice. Gruff and stubborn, yet she knew him to be gentle. Auburn hair tousled to meet a grinning face and silvery eyes. “Strong. You didn’t hear any of that.”

His lips thinned, “As you wish, my Lady,” The leather-wearing man stood a head taller- shadowing her. Elspeth used to be intimidated by the man from a young age. She had known him basically all of her life.

“You are lingering,” a slight bite, yet she assumed he was used to her. Or should have been. “Speak freely, I’d appreciate your counsel.” Sheathing her sword his gloved hand held the pommel.

His stance broad, “What do you wish to discuss?” She motioned for the pair to walk at each other’s side- yet he remained standing still. Regrettably unable to order him around- he bore the higher social standing. Elspeth resorted to his wishes.

“The King’s Hand is attempting to secure a betrothal in my name,” he chuckled at the maiden, “What is so amusing?” Her tone was laced in boredom as her eyes rolled.

Hulking shoulders shrugged, “You barely tolerate my presence and yet you ask me for counsel concerning your Lord father… what has gotten into you?” No trace of malice or discontent hidden in his words- she didn’t take him for a man of deep thought. Then again Elspeth hadn’t really gotten to know Harwin Strong.

“You are impartial and are quite fair, when you’re not breaking others’ bones in tourneys.” That made him smug- still grinning ear to ear. Why did he smile so wide? Wielding the sword, a large hand gloved her own- her skin ignited with a buzzing in her ears.

She instantly glared, he grinned, “Stop angering your father,” the stare less sinister on her part, “He doesn’t take kindly to you wielding a sword.” So he meant to disarm her, she didn’t think so.

“I’ll do as I please,”The woman snatched the sword, while the knight pulled both girl and sword toward himself. Arms clashing with cool fabric, brow inches away from his as was the contrasting smirk.

He forced it higher- Elspeth couldn’t have gotten closer if she tried. “You asked for counsel, my Lady.”

Fingers unlatched from the weapon- cheeks ablaze, “That doesn’t mean I have to adhere to it,” Elspeth held a distance- processing his words. “Shouldn’t you be at Harrenhal? Rather than playing knight?” That smile never faded from his face.

Taking a step closer, “I’ll have you know, I’m joining the City Watch in two namedays. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me, I’m afraid.”Her eyes rolled at his joviality. He was going to become a pain in her arse.

“Does that mean you’re competing in the tourney later?” Eyes of sparkling green beamed into his of steel.

A nod.

Elspeth curtsied- maybe she shouldn’t incur the wrath of Otto Hightower for the headache it caused. “I will see you there, Strong,” her back turned now to him.

“It’s Harwin…” She had known him for well over a decade, yet the habit didn’t die hard. He was a Lord after all and heir to Harrenhal and the Strong family, whereas she’d inherit the name of her betrothed- not that of her own.

Long, waved hair settled and her head turned, “Farewell, Ser Harwin.”

But he didn’t relent, “And you’ll be in the royal box?”

His eyes bright so she could see them from the distance covered, “What of it?” She was growing impatient.

“I just wanted to know where to receive your favour,” The smile diabolical- heat warmed her centre. She wasn’t naive, she’d been to taverns joined with pleasure houses. For the knight, Elspeth couldn’t harbour such feelings for him. It wasn’t destined for her. “Take care, my Lady.”

She turned for a final time, memorising Harwin Strong’s smirk, his eyes… memorising him.

“Where have you been? Father has been looking for you,” Elspeth wasn’t sure whether or not Alicent was truly a sweet little girl or a suck up to garner favour. Needless to say the youngest daughter was their father’s favourite- but at least Elspeth didn’t wear a mask.

She waved the news off, “When have I ever listened to our father’s orders?” Her younger sister silent, hands at her front- nails bloodied. Enough for Elspeth to grasp her palms for closer inspection, “What have I told you? This world is already cruel enough, don’t scorn yourself by your own hand.” Even if Alicent was petulant at times, Elspeth still loved her until the ground started shaking and the World ended altogether.

A sorrowful look from the younger, “Is this about mother?” A nod and she brought Alicent into her side - a crushing hug. Elspeth felt her kin tremble, she held the girl up. Tears shedding

Though, that was both of the sisters.

“I miss her, Elsie.”

“As do I,” a long inhale, “But we are strong, Alie. We are Hightowers, we light the way. I love you, more than Gwayne,” both found humour. Laughing with each other. “If I’m not mistaken, we have a princess to attend.”

The youthful face of Alicent Hightower lit up again, as tears were wiped by Elspeth’s emerald sleeve. “You’re just like mother,” the older’s heart shone at those words. She always had a likeness to their late Lady mother- comments enough to be memorable. But Elspeth never saw it, for her and Alicent their mother was the most beautiful woman in court. After she passed, Alicent thought the same of ‘her Elsie’.

She plainly smiled at Alicent. “What did father say he wanted?”

“He didn’t actually want anything, you just haven’t spoken to me since…” Even Elspeth would admit it, she was ignorant and rude. There were no excuses for her behaviour, though she hadn’t been the same since her mother’s death. Especially Otto. His leash on his eldest daughter had grown shorter in those following months.

Elspeth would light her own way.