#dreams unwind is still a state of mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

v3nusxsky · 10 months

Note

Can you do a deja vu smut fuc with Larissa and reader? Like reader feels like one night she's invited into Larissa's office for some wine and a convo or just to hang out, and it leads to smut eventually, but it hasn't happened at all yet, and a few weeks later Larissa actually invites reader to her office to chill and hang out, and reader explains to Larissa that its feeling like deja vu. And idk where to go from there. I trust you'll make an amazing fiction like you always do. Love your work and I appreciate your skills, hope you have the good rest of the day.

Deja vu 18+

*Authors note~ I do have some experience in this so I hope it's what your after, as always lovely to receive a request from you*

Trigger warnings~smut Mommy kink toys shifted cock, wine praise kink oral unprotected p in v degrading kink, bondage Squirting

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Basking in the glow from the fire you sat on her couch nursing what was your fourth glass of red wine that just so happened to be going down nicely. Much too nicely. Conversation with your blonde companion flowing as if this was a regular occurrence. But it wasn't. No, can't say you have ever been invited into your boss's personal space to have wine and relax together. But then again none of your bosses ever looked at you like she does, like she wants to devour you. Mindless prey just begging for her to take such good care of you.

Before you even knew it you were on her lap. Her hands on your hips and the forgotten empty bottles of wine on the floor. You were giggling about something that she said, the breath tickling her neck as your head rested there. Maybe it was the wine, or perhaps just desire that had been building for far too long. You didn't know, nor did you truly care. Sitting in Larissa Weems lap as she kissed you senseless was enough to make every thought over than her leave your brain.

Touching Larissa is like realising all you ever wanted was in reach, but her touching you? Heavenly. You couldn't help but feel like the most special girl in the world to have her face buried between your plush thighs. Hair falling down her shoulders even with your hands tugging at it in order to keep her there. Larissa is talented at everything she does, you knew that. But god her mouth was perfectly building you up to bliss as if it was designed just for your cunt.

"Beep beep beep beep!" Groggily you let your eyes flutter open to the cruel reality. Another dream. Well another sex dream. And about your boss as well. The same boss you had a meeting with in an hour. It wasn't the first time you'd dreamt of her pleasing you and you pleasing her, but that's all it had to be was a dream. There was no way that it would ever become reality. You wouldn't have enough time to sort out the slick between your thighs now, so you settled for a quick cold shower before dressing for work.

These dreams had been happening for weeks now, you'd end up in the same state every morning, although some parts of the dream would fade and change, she never left. It was always here and truthfully you were a little concerned at all the filthy things your mind would conjure up now. It made looking her in the face rather difficult. It almost turned you on how much you were dreaming of the unsuspecting women. But if she had known, oh the shy submissive would've came out to play too.

"You seem to be distracted professor, perhaps you need an evening to unwind" Larissa suggested at the end of the meeting and all you could do was murmur to yourself, "More than you know." "Would you care to join me this evening for some wine?" You couldn't help but choke on thin air, this couldn't be. You don't remember falling asleep? But it's the same story as normal. You gave her a quick yes thank you and fled the office, knowing you would be back there later meant you really had to sort yourself out now.

You were still waiting to wake up, you had to wake up soon, yet you didn't. You found yourself back at her door, this time waiting to be let in. You nervously swiped your hands on the sides of your legs before entering her office again. The sense of Deja vu hitting you again. Two glasses of wine sat awaiting you and Larissa already perched on the sofa looking like a goddess. "Come in darling, take a seat" she murmured gesturing to the spot next to her and the wine. "Thank you principal Weems." Taking a nervous swig of your wine you thanked the woman for such a generous invitation. "You looked stressed darling, I want to make sure my favourite staff member is being properly de stressed" she all but purred causing you to giggle, "and what do you suggest Principal Weems?"

She immediately reassured you that Larissa was just fine out of school hours and the back and forth teasing continued. Despite the pleasant conversation and the bottles of wine you couldn't quite seem to fully relax. Larissa seemed to notice this and in your tipsy state she managed to sit you on her lap allowing your head to slot into her neck. A hand coming up to rub gentle soothing circles on your back. "You can relax with me love" was all she offered you, causing you to release a pleased hum.

A quick little peck was placed on the column of the blondes neck in a thoughtless thanks causing the blonde to gain more confidence, a hand under your chin to to guide your lips to hers in a sweet kiss. Finally feeling the sensation of her lips on yours immediately drove you insane. It didn't take long or much convincing for you to ever so slightly roll your hips against her. "Darling" she murmured pulling away from your addictive lips, "are you drunk?" It was cute she cares but you shook your head and whined before capturing her lips with yours. A clear indication you didn't want to stop. "Such a needy girl hmm? What do you need darling?"

"Fuck me mommy!" You mewled letting another frustrated whine out when she removed you from her lap to stand up. Luckily it wouldn't be for long as she lead you to her room, mumbling something about how you are worth much more than sofa sex. The woman immediately shredded both of your clothing before gaining more consent to have her wicked way with you. You happily gave her that and that's how you ended up where you are right now.

All those dreams didn't do this any justice. Larissa having her way with you was way more than what the dreams were. The woman had you bound to the bed, a vibe strapped to your clit, working ruthlessly as she rutted against your mouth. Any cries of pleasure was muffled but her pussy as she worked herself to bliss, something she wouldn't allow you just yet. Larissa using you for her own pleasure is no longer a want, but now a need. "Oh fuck darling, there. That's it good girl such a good girl for mommy" she mewled above you reaching her peak.

Once Larissa moved off your face with shaky legs you thought she'd take some pity on your now red and puffy cunt. "Mommy, please" you whined causing the blonde to chuckle, "such a sweet needy girl for mommy hun? The vibrations from the toy were absolutely relentless as the blonde stood there watching your little hole quivering around thin air. The feeling of deja vu at the way she taunted and teased you in such a position was hard to ignore. Until Larissa gave you more.

During the previous bliss she'd pulled from you, the blonde shifted her own soaked core into a 8 inch girthy cock. "You are such a good little slut i thought you deserved to take my dick darling" she murmured before bringing her lips to your neck sucking harshly on your pulse point while she rubbed the head of her cock through your soaked folds. The sudden intrusion of her snuggly buried in your inner walls fold by a gasp, "Needy girl, such a greedy cunt sucking mommys dick into your cunt without my permission baby." You gasped in shock and stuttered out a "sorry I didn't mean to mommy" before she began to fuck you hard.

In your dreams she would bend you over and pound into you from behind or like now you'd have a leg slipped up to her waist as she drilled into you, one hand playing with your breast. Every single thought left your head now, you didn't care anymore what was real and what was a dream, all you cared about is pleasing the blonde woman. The way she was drilling into your cunt told you she was feeling the same way being spurred on by your moans and mewls of need.

The moment you came again you saw stars, a gush of liquid soaking both you and your lover in your cum as she brought you back down from heaven. "Shhh darling you did so so well for me love" she whispered before easing out of your centre. Her reassurances never faltered as she helped you get clean and redressed in some comfy clothes of her own. Then leading you to her bed where she held you in her arms until you both slept. It would be spoken about tomorrow but for now you'd realised that sometimes Deja vu isn't so bad.

Word count~ 1655

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #anon requested #fanfic #larissa weems #larissa x y/n #principal larissa weems #larissa weems smut #larissa x reader #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x reader #larissa x you #principal weems #weems x reader #weems #weems smut

315 notes · View notes

nalyra-dreaming · 1 month

Text

Holy shit?!

src

“Louis is still fighting to get to something, to unlock the memories that have curiously evaded him. "The pursuit of memory and truth is the driving force this season. It motivates Louis to get to where we're going to get to by the end of it," said Zaman. "Season 1 proved that his memory's completely shot in lots of ways, but who, or what, did that — that's the question I think we're going to have to answer."…

“It all begins with Louis, a textbook unreliable narrator, though Jones and Anderson both bristle a bit at the term. "One self delusion knits itself to the rest of your life," Jones said. He argued that Louis' memory might be "80-90 percent" correct, though it only takes one mistaken detail to muddle a timeline and cancel someone out entirely. "To unwind that, you call into question all this stuff. It doesn't mean that all this stuff isn't right. It's just this thing has altered it a little bit."

…

To Anderson, Louis' unreliability matters less than the vivid reality of his feelings. "It's not necessarily that Louis is a quote-unquote unreliable narrator," he said. "He is, because what he's saying is completely subjective. But I think it has just as much to do with how something felt, the feeling of a person or the feeling of an experience, than it is him actively trying to deceive anybody." That comes out most strongly in Dubai, particularly in the second season. "He's really, genuinely trying to find the closest thing to an objective recalling of events that he possibly can."…

“I like writing for Sam Reid, and I think in terms of how this thing is structured and what's going on in this headspace, it wasn't a big leap to go, 'Oh, he's haunting. He's inside Louis,'" Jones said. When we see Lestat at the beginning of the season, he manifests as what Anderson and Reid referred to as "dream Lestat" — not quite himself, not quite a ghost, not quite a memory, but some blend of all three, filtered through Louis' guilt and grief.

…

"Who is Louis remembering, and how is Louis remembering [Lestat] is always on my mind," said Reid when we first spoke at the Television Critics Association winter press tour in February. "I'm always thinking about it, and I'm always talking about it, much to the chagrin of pretty much everyone." (From across the table we were crowded around, Anderson heckled, "I can vouch for that.") Later, when we met one on one over Zoom, Reid elaborated, "Louis is speaking to himself, so he speaks like Louis. But he's also speaking to Lestat, and he's choosing to speak to Lestat when he's speaking to himself." The first time we see Lestat in Season 2, he materializes before Louis as a gory vision during a moment of mental deterioration, vengeful and overbearingly loving all at once. What was already a blurry line between the ex-lovers has now become indistinguishable.“…

“With dream Lestat assuming a number of dispositions, all dictated by Louis' headspace, separating dream Lestat from the real Lestat was crucial to Reid. "It's clear that Louis is putting the words into his mouth," Reid said. "Who's the guy that he's forced to see looking back at him, saying the words that he thinks he should be saying?" The presence of dream Lestat means that the state of the real Lestat is unclear when the season opens, but becoming this slightly unreal version of his character built on the groundwork Reid had already been laying. Going back to the first season, he often rejected Anderson's impulse to play their scenes together as if they were true. "I know this is not how this happened," he said of Louis' version of events, "which allowed me to kind of lean into the more sow's ear version of Lestat in specific moments, because I knew that we might be revisiting them."…

“For Claudia, Lestat's influence will always linger. "That's his daughter," Hayles said simply. "He doesn't need to be a ghost. He's in her." Louis and Claudia know each other inside and out, and Louis' love for Claudia is all-encompassing, but she sees the writing on the wall the moment he meets Armand: What happened with Lestat will happen again as Louis chooses another man over her.“

(much more behind the link!!)

UPDATE: link to the author’s tweet, Allison Picurro

#tv guide #interview #sam reid #jacob anderson #delainey hayles #assad zaman #eric bogosian #interview with the vampire #iwtv #amc iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #iwtv amc #rolin jones

123 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 7 months

Text

It’s a sick fic (Marc takes care of reader)! I’m in bed with pesky sniffles today, so naturally my mind is wandering to these things. Not proofed / elaborated bc of the aforementioned. Also, Marc was the obvious choice for comfort today because this morning I read @astroboots’ wonderful period sex with Marc fic! So, he was on the brain and I definitely have to acknowledge that fic had a large part in spawning this. I strongly suggest you read CiCi’s fic, in fact, and ignore this one 😝 (see my last reblog if you’d like to check it out).

Warnings: painkiller mentions; reader is ill. Comfort from Marc.

You’re sick in bed.

Marc’s all worried. Has been dabbing your forehead with a damp cloth, hovering around as you dozed and timing out your rounds of painkillers.

When you stir again this time, from the sticky haze of a fever dream - and not in a good way - Marc is poised on the lip of bed, all DeNiro brow, crumpled up in concern until his eyebrows knit together and his puppy dog eyes shine beneath.

Even in this state he stirs something deep between your loins; not that you’d be in any position to act on it.

“Marc,” you croak softly, forcing a thin smile, but it does little to assuage his worry.

“Heyyyy, Shortcake,” he says softly, forcing a smile up until his eyes crinkle with the effort of it. “How are you doing?”

You pop your lower lip, feeling a little sorry for yourself. “Still quite bleugh.”

His face tightens with pain, and you feel a pang of guilt for not downplaying it more. He does worry something rotten about you.

He dips forward, his Magen David pooling against your chest. Providing a pleasant, cooling shock against your tacky skin. You feel Marc’s lips softly brush your forehead with a kiss. “Well, I’ve got something for ya.”

Your eyes tick to the clock in confusion. “Already had the medicine. Not time yet,” you argue weakly, in a babyfied voice.

He smiles softly, and this time it is not forced - it’s hard for him to hold it back. “Not that kind of medicine. Here, I’ll show you.”

He scoops your hands up gently into his, and they feel rough and sturdy against you. You don’t know where he’s going with this, but you don’t really have the strength to argue either; however, luckily, you trust him implicitly, and you know he won’t lead you wrong.

“I’m not supposed t’ do this. Told Khonshu it was an emergency. Ground the bastard down eventually.”

“Wha-?”

“Ssshhh. Don’t worry, baby girl. I got you, huh?”

You stop protesting and you nod weakly, as Marc holds his hands more firmly around yours.

Then, in a flash, Khonshu’s suit begins to wind around him, bandages curling and snaking around his thick, sturdy frame. His eyes glowing white like the celestial glisten of the moon.

Next though, as he holds you, you watch in silent awe as the bandages unwind from his forearms. As they wrap around you, snaking gently up and around your arms. It kinda tickles.

Ah. Suddenly it makes sense to you.

The healing suit.

You shake your head softly, and you try to release your grip on Marc’s hands, suddenly full of worry. Won’t he get in trouble with the bird for a stunt like this? For sharing his power; with you of all people?

“B-but Marc. This isn’t an emergency,” you rationalise. “I’m fine. It’ll just take me a little longer to heal, all on my own.”

Marc looks at you softly. Intently. “Shortcake. You not feeling well? Trust me. That’s an emergency to me.” He strokes his loosely bound thumb over the ridges of your knuckles. “I can do this for you. Please. Would you let me do this?”

Damn.

Who are you to say no to those shining, puppy dog eyes? To Marc’s pure, unfettered devotion?

Except….

“But your wounds, Marc! You need the suit more than I do.” You survey his collection of grazes from his latest bout with a foe.

He looks at you though, slow and steady still, and all your reservations melt away. You see it in his face. He’s hurting; sure. But more so because you are hurting, and you think this can heal him too.

“I’m fine,” he repeats with a lazy uptick at the corner of his mouth. “Just scratches. It’ll just take a little longer to heal. All on my own.”

He has you beat there. You both want the best for each other. Would do anything to take away one another’s pain. It’s all you want.

You clasp his hands tightly in yours, heart overcome with love, and you softly concede, the bandages wrapping more steadily up you arms with your permission granted, until you and he are intertwined - in more ways than one. “Okay, Marc. Get me all better - and then I’ll take care of you, alright?”

He smiles. Shifts on the bed until his warm frame is spooning you, all safe, bandages loosening and tightening to accommodate your shifts. He kisses the back of your neck. Whispers warmly into your skin. “Got yourself a deal, Shortcake.”

You hum softly with relief. You’re not sure whether it’s the bandages, or just Marc; but you sure as hell feel better already.

#Marc Spector x reader #moon knight x reader #might delete later

217 notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 1 year

Note

I would love to read a blurb from you about H taking care of his newborn baby boy 🥺

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—

Harry’s hands shake as he slowly reaches down into the bassinet to retrieve the tiny human screaming for his attention and care.

Truth be told, he’s honestly not sure which one of them he’s telling not to cry.

Nevertheless, the squirmy infant begins to wiggle in his large palms as he brings the child up toward his chest.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, you’re all right,” he whispers, doing his best to speak in his most soothing tone. “Another nightmare, huh? S’okay, I get it. I get them, too.”

There’s some wet cooing as Harry cups the child’s bottom and tucks them just under his chin, right over his racing heart.

He’d read that skin-on-skin contact is crucial for newborns to create a strong bond, so now he spends a majority of his time shirtless just in case the child needs that added comfort.

And if Harry is being honest with himself, he probably gets more comfort out of it than the baby.

After a moment, the fussing begins to subside, and Harry exhales the deep breath that had been caught in his lungs as he unwinds. Then, he moves for the rocking chair in the corner of the room, gingerly taking a seat as the baby begins to fidget in his hold.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs, swaying them back and forth. “It’s all right, I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you.”

The sweet baby brings its tiny thumb to its mouth, tucking it between small, pouted lips as it begins to settle.

“There you go,” Harry says, lashes fluttering as he looks down. “I know, it’s hard to sleep without her. Especially when it’s all you’ve ever known…”

There’s a catch in Harry’s throat as he glances back up, eyes falling to the side of the bed where she used to lay.

It’s been three weeks. Only three weeks since Harry had to come home from the hospital alone, and he has absolutely no idea how he’s made it this far.

He doesn’t sleep. Which isn’t unusual for new parents, but it goes deeper than that. He doesn’t sleep because he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to sleep in a bed she’s no longer in.

And he doesn’t eat, either. Because he can’t stand to go into the same kitchen she used to love. The same kitchen she used to spend each of her Sunday mornings in as she cooked them pancakes and listened to French music.

He doesn’t go out. He doesn’t leave their house. He’s a stranger to the outside world and apart from when his mother comes over to babysit, he doesn’t talk to anyone.

It’s just him and the baby now.

And he doesn’t exactly want that to change. He doesn’t want to lose these moments because at least he can pretend that he still has her.

She’s everywhere. Her memory lives within this house. Within their child. He can see her in the baby’s eyes. In the way it tries to smile or reach out and grab onto his thumb when it needs him close by.

And it breaks his heart because their baby will never hear the sound of her laugh or feel her reassuring touch.

He has no idea if he’ll be enough. If he can give this child the life it deserves or the love he knows she would have given them.

He can only do what she would want him to.

His best.

“She loved you so much,” Harry whispers, cheek pressing into the baby’s head. “So, so much. The last thing she ever did was hold you and tell you she loved you. You were the most important thing in the world to her.”

The child only coos as it slips back into a dream-like state, still curled up against Harry’s bare chest as he rocks them back and forth.

Harry smiles. “It’s you and me now, okay? Us against the world. Us. Always.”

He means that more than he's ever meant anything in his life.

And that’s a promise he doesn’t plan to break.

It's short, I know, but I AM planning a second part so I can explore all the other amazing ideas you guys sent in, I promise!!

Thank you again so much to the original anon, and I hope you don't mind that I changed a couple tiny details! 😭💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles baby #harry styles baby request

501 notes · View notes

tenderfxck · 1 year

Note

hello!!! i really like ur sub characters they make me giggle ngl cause like awww <3 if it’s okay can I request a Zhongli x reader where during the night he lets his half dragon form out while he rests, so he has his horns and tail out but still looks human (I think that is his morax form) however the reader doesn’t know about him being a dragon so one night as he has his form out, she is having a wet dream and poor Li’ has to grit his teeth and try not to whimper and buck his hips up as she grinds and humps his tail :(( poor baby is getting all the stimulation but not enough at this same time :(( Eventually he’ll come and twitch while slapping a hand over his mouth to stop his whining as his beloved continues to grind all over his tail, rubbing its most sensitive parts and he just has to endure the overstimulation. (Have a good day!)

zhongli//restless night//f!reader//18+

contents: half dragon! zhongli, f!reader, somno, accidental voyerism, shit anon you got me good T T

notes: AAAAAH i'm so late, sorry this took forever, there was a whole lot going on in my life but i’m still so happy you sent this spicy prompt to me, it was so much fun to write💕

it was a time of rest. a time when he allowed himself to relax just enough that he wouldn’t have to keep up the appearance of a human anymore.

the long amber horns were allowed to sprout from his temples, while his long tail resembling that color of oudh wood was permitted to spread itself across the fine sheets that wangshu inn provided.

and yet, now you have spread yourself across him. . .

this certainly wasn’t the plan, but can anything ever go accordingly when it comes to you?

zhongli wasn't expecting to be in such a vulnerable position with you. he was typically vigilant about hiding his dragon-like form, dismissing himself from your company to his own room for the night before unwinding.

but tonight, wangshu inn was fully booked except for one solitary room.

with only one bed.

you fussed about the arrangement, but zhongli merely chuckled, assuring you that as long as you were comfortable, he did not mind the prospect of sharing.

so the two of you shared this bed together. zhongli had thought absolutely nothing of it. he'll just retain his human form all night.

well, that was the plan, until he felt your weight dip the other side of the mattress, settling so comfortably against his form as you quickly dozed off. he could smell the sweet scent of your perfume, feel the soft cotton of your nightgown against him. it was just so. . .cozy. warm and safe

soon enough, zhongli could feel his human form slipping, sprouting those more dragon-like traits without him noticing.

well. . .then he'll just wake up before your pretty eyes even think to flutter open. zhongli will change back and you'll never be the wiser to this altered state he finds himself in now.

yes, a fine plan.

(and one that would let him indulge in the warmth and comfort of you as he dozed off)

but of course, that's when you saw fit to strike upon him.

it is had all started so innocently. just you clinging to him, snuggled up so cutely even as he faced away from you. you had been positioned against him, cradling his back as you spooned his resting form. his great tail was in between those soft thighs, but zhongli had decent enough self-control to ignore it.

that’s when he first felt the thrust of your hips.

he was on the cusp of waking and asleep until the sudden motion enticed him away from the edge.

he thought nothing much of it. just the shifting of your body to a more comfortable position. he was settling in to his pillow once again when he felt the rock of hips against his tail again.

a gasp was caught in his throat, unsure if what happened wasn't just an active imagination on his part. zhongli held his breath, waiting to see if it was just a trick of his mind.

and then there it was again. a long, drawn out stroke of your hips. and this time, the heavenly sigh of your voice to accompany it.

zhongli grit his teeth, listening intently for any sign that you had awoken, but all that graced his ears was your soft snores accompanied by tiny little whimpers escaping you.

unknowingly, in a fit of passion only clear to you in whatever blissful dream your sleeping form had conjured up, you were nonetheless grinding upon zhongli’s ridged tail in what was now becoming a slow, yet steady pace.

“a-ah~ excuse me,” he stuttered, barely able to process the scene enfolding behind him. he stumbled over his words, desperately searching for any way to wake you up without mortifying the two of you. “you seem to be-aah!” zhongli couldn’t contain that little outburst. he gasped at the steady friction you provided.

zhongli couldn’t believe the circumstances. he turned his head, chancing a look back upon your peaceful form.

sure enough you were still soundly asleep, unaware of the lewd situation playing out before you.

it didn’t help that his tail was overly sensitive to stimuli (something left over from more primordial days) and especially that of your wet cunt catching on each prominent bump along his long tail.

“a-ah, wait, that’s. . . nngh!” zhongli tried to protest. he knew the implications this would have if you were to wake up and discover more than just the illicit situation you found yourselves in.

but zhongli had desired you for so long. thought about just what noises you would make in circumstances like this long before he found himself here tonight. and now it was all coming true. right in his ear.

and right against him. . .

fuck. your needy pussy humping his sensitive tail was just too much. the worst part is he could feel just exactly how wet you had gotten using him to get yourself off. he grasps at the waistband of his pants, dragging them down and letting his already weeping cock spring forth from the cotton confines.

it’d shame him to admit just how quickly this little routine had him stiff and aching in his pants. but his self restraint had already eroded to much.

if you were enjoying yourself, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to indulge himself as well?

zhongli took his cock in hand and began to slowly stroke, focusing on the distinct feeling of you moving against him. he bit his tongue, willing any moans to die on his lips before he dares disturbs your slumber.

it continued like that for archons knows how long. the thrust of your hips, followed by zhongli silencing his moans and fisting his cock quicker, all while enduring all those sweet little whimpers escaping you as you chased your own pleasure on his tail.

it was too much. too much stimulation, too many little sounds. the slick of your cunt against him, the wet noise of him fucking his own fist, the knowledge that you were so close, using him to get yourself off while that pretty little head dreamt about all sorts of perverse things.

too much. too much. he’s gonna-!

he comes with a particularly deep grind of your twitching pussy gliding against his now glistening scales. he clasped a trembling hand over his mouth, willing himself quieter as dragon fangs catch against his palm, feeling himself finally come undone. he basks in the sensation of you humping so diligently against his most vulnerable area as he spills his thick load all over himself.

he panted, tremors still finding their way through his body as he lay spent, thighs and stomach covered in his seed.

he gasped, moaning and twitching in the aftermath.

yet you still continued.

fuck. fuck. archons, you weren’t stopping-!

you kept on grinding onto his newly overstimmed tail, letting out those sweet little whimpers, chasing that high while zhongli has to sit and bear this whole lewd scene as he writhed and panted against you.

this was going to be a long night. . .

582 notes · View notes

fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 7 months

Text

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 160- Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Summary: Josie dives deep in her thoughts and feelings for the men in her life. Lola reveals an object of interest. A King arrives in Dorwinion. Narcisse is given an unexpected ultimatum. Twin or alter? Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all? The answer shocks someone. Josie is being watched. An envious trick of spite is served ice cold. Thranduil unwinds with his go to wine and thoughts of Josephine. A vision tugs at his heart and the Elvenking disapproves.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, blackmail, coercion, mentions of murder, mild violence, smut, self pleasure

Chapter characters: Josie, Lola, Francis, Mary, Narcisse, Conde', Darken Rahl, Ravenna, Garrett, Kate, Thranduil

Chapter word count: 8,013

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

While Legolas had went to check on Boromir and speak with Aragorn about going to find Haldir, you stood on your balcony, wallowing in your misery over Narcisse's harsh words to you earlier. As angry as you were over it all, his words were true...and they also hurt. It was something the warlock lord was infamous for, lashing out at others when they had hurt him...and you did...you hurt him. Not intentionally, for if there was any truth to be told, it was that you did care deeply for him, the only difference was that he was in love with you and you could not say the same. Just as Legolas and Haldir loved you too, the love you felt for the two elves was merely platonic, even if you had at one time long ago been intimate with the Marchwarden and recently shared a kiss with both he and Legolas...a kiss they each initiated. Your heart belonged to another and always would. Another you could no longer have...your King Thranduil....and now...your heart lied with the greatly despised vampire...King Garrett Lee, another truth Narcisse blatantly pointed out, a truth all could see but you....until now.

Did it matter though? Stephane was also right about other things. Garrett left you yet once again, something he promised you over and over he would not do and every single time, he broke those promises for his own selfish reasons. Was it really selfish though for wanting to protect his own heart? For he believed yours did not love him and never would. Should you just continue to move on and try to forget him? Would he even let you? considering you shared his blood and he was the only one besides your late King that could sneak past your shielded mind....with the exception of when you were in a vulnerable dream state.

Stephane was there. Always had been. He risked everything bringing himself and his men to Lestat's chateau to fight YOUR battle and he continued to fight it after the fact and still does, even after you had unintentionally hurt him. He could have tossed you out to the wolves, literally, as you thought of Harker, but he didn't. Instead, he tore you apart himself with his typical words of spite.

Narcisse was different from Legolas and Haldir. Not because he wasn't an elf, but because the only connection he had to Thranduil was through their business of trade. The connection the elves had to your King was too deep. So deep that his millenniums of great friendship with Haldir, who was also Legolas' guardian, was forever scarred because of you, something you had trouble forgiving yourself for. Then there was Legolas and that was pretty clear cut. He was the King of Mirkwood's son.

And Garrett once again. His connection to Thranduil was toxic, to put it mildly. Vampires were an elves natural born enemies as it was and as Narcisse had also thrown in your face, Garrett had done hideous things to you and him, even Haldir. Although you had forgiven him for it, it didn't change the fact that he did it, nor the fact that no one else was going to forgive him or accept him in your life. Subconsciously, was it all of that, especially Thranduil's rightful loathing of him, that kept you from admitting your true feelings for the vampire? Because now...consciously, you didn't give a damn what anyone thought. You hadn't for awhile. It was your life. You didn't forgive lightly. Garrett worked hard to prove himself to you and to show his remorse over his crimes was genuine. He despised himself and what he had become. It was the human that still lived inside of him that he desperately held onto. You had seen Garrett at his most vulnerable moments through blood, sweat and tears. He shared things with you that he never spoke about to anyone or would because you and he also shared a connection. A crazy one at that, but it was real. You both came from the same worlds and time and were so much alike and he trusted you, which trust was something he had a very hard time with in his world, even in his human life as well. And you trusted Garrett too... with your life, for he certainly had saved you more times than you could count on all your fingers. He saved Legolas too, pulling his unconscious body from the icy Black Sea of death and even if he only did it for you, it scored major bonus points in your eyes, proving what you already knew, that he had good in him and you hoped that someday, maybe in a different light, Legolas would see that too and come to accept him, for he was empathetic like you were something he certainly did not inherit from Thranduil...or his mother so you assumed it came from Carandolel, his grandmother. You had noticed a slight softening in Legolas, regarding Garrett, when he returned the favor of saving the vampire from Amara's deadly kill tree, but shortly after that, the Seelie Queen's twisted kissing game may have ruined any chance of a vampire/elf reconciliation. The game that forced out your feelings for Garrett, feelings you had only admitted to one person, Selene, when she brought you Garrett's goodbye letter. You told her you would have chosen him.

As far as Haldir, that was a lost cause, end of story. His hatred of vampires stemmed clear back to Kraven who killed his father and with the things Garrett had done to you, to Thranduil, to him, he would not get past. His rescues of you and Legolas also carried no redemption in the Lorien elf's cynical eyes. Even Thranduil, if he were alive and knew Garrett saved his son, and also you...well, to put it simply, the pride of the Elvenking would never allow him in his world. Selene either, although oddly, Thranduil had seemed to accept Lestat and even vice versa, most likely over their mutual hatred of Raven and your mother. Marius and Maharet, your grandmother, also were considered to have a free pass. It was all such a complicated and selective situation, vampires and elves.

Then there was the connection you had with Narcisse. When you met him, he told you how he had waited years for your arrival, that he knew you would come, and his reaction upon seeing you and realizing who you were, proved just that. But you, you had no idea who he was other than what you had heard from Legolas, which was nothing good and you had believed the elf's words to be true at that time, especially once Stephane's true colors shot out of him like a rainbow of fireworks. Still...there was something about the warlock lord of Dorwinion that was able to keep your attention.

The physical part was obvious, for the mystical man of magic and mayhem, in and out of that form fitting Kingly attire, was of pure eye candy indeed, so far from monotonous and he knew just how to get under your skin in every single way. The man simply knew how to make you tick...from his electrifying touch that happened with no other witch but him, to his sweet words and gestures of endearment, to his intimidating, arrogant, egotistical, asshole persona he used as a shield of protection and power, right down to his softer, vulnerable, loving side underneath that barrier, his true heart, bound tightly by barbed wire that only you seemed to be able to break through to. Stephane was a warlock of light, but one should never be blinded by it, for he also had a dark side which you believed to have been brought forth by the betrayals of his past. To provoke, cross or hurt him would either be an immediate death sentence or drawn out torture as many had found out, including Catherine and Asher....even you were facing his wrath. Hell hath no fury like a warlock scorned and you knew this be to be very true after the dealings with Jareth and Harker.

So what was it that drew you to Narcisse when he was nothing but a hot mess? Well, so were you, weren't you? But you knew that was not the reason for the pull. It became quite obvious really. You had just described your King... Thranduil.

Your extensive thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of the door to your room opening, then closing and Lola coming out to the far reaching balcony to join you.

"Legolas wanted me to inform you that Bard will join Aragorn and Gimli in the search for Haldir and that he will be with Boromir if you need him."

"Oh...thank you Lola. I am so glad to hear that." you acknowledged with a desolate and bereft tone that contradicted your words as your watery eyes remained peering out into the open emptiness.

"It seems I have interrupted your thoughts. Are...you alright Josie? Do you wish me to leave?"

"No...it's alright Lola. I could actually use the distraction from the mess of my own mind."

"Maybe you just need somewhere to put all your thoughts instead of keeping them locked inside? I am a very good listener."

"I know you are. You have let me talk your ears off many times. Surely you must be bored of my problems by now."

"I would not have offered if I was. I see you as my friend and it's nice. I do not have any of those here."

"Yes you do. Me. I see you the same way Lola. One of my best ones actually and I...don't have any of those anywhere."

You briefly thought of Tauriel and her more in depth betrayal to you and Legolas that he finally admitted to you. The elleth had been your first and only friend when you arrived at Thranduil's halls and she had soon became your best friend. A part of you missed her but you knew you could never forgive her, nor trust her ever again even if you did. Sarah, your childhood bff that Harker killed, crossed your mind too. She had been your best friend in the entire world and was there for you during most of your father's poison induced sickness, and all because of you, she died. Even Selene had become your friend, but the vampiress had her one true love back, Michael, so you knew you wouldn't see much of her. The world had moved on while you would forever stand still, grieving your King.

"That is not true. You have Haldir."

"But it's not the same as having a girl bestie and... he is not here now no thanks to Stephane and...and I miss Thranduil so bad that I don't even know how I am still breathing and I miss Garrett and my dad and now they're all gone and Stephane, I've probably lost him too because I hurt him and I never meant to. He's been so good to me, so sweet and patient and now, he's so angry with me and god Lola, I am just so fucking lost and I know I have people who love me but I just feel so alone." you rambled as tears began to fall.

"I am so sorry Josie...I somewhat understand. We are just hopeless romantics wanting so badly to believe love conquers all, that there is some fairytale ending, but the world keeps disappointing us with it's brutal reality. I know Charles is smitten with me but strangely, I just do not feel the same attraction for him. So, I feel the loneliness too. I have felt all alone in this people filled castle ever since my mother died. As I mentioned, I have no friends here. No family. I am merely just a servant and midwife."

"If...I may ask...what about your father? Is he in your life at all?"

"No. I do not even know who he is..or was. He could be dead for all that I know. My mother never spoke of him. She was very private and kept to herself and well, Lord Narcisse expected his servants to be seen and not heard. He was very different back then. Like there were two of him. One sweet, one sour." Lola explained in a dispiriting tone.

"You mean just like he still is?" you scoffed. "Are you sure it wasn't his deceased twin that you remember, since you were only a small child?"

"Twin? Well, if Lord Narcisse had another brother, I certainly have never seen him."

"They didn't get along so that would make sense I suppose." you vaguely explained, not wanting to air Narcisse's dirty laundry about what his brother did to their father, since Lola didn't seem to know anything about Rahl.

"Anyways, I'm so sorry Lola. You seem to remember your mother. Hopefully you have some good memories. How...how did she pass?" you asked, although you knew exactly how that happened. Harker happened, which is how Lola ended up remaining in Stephane's castle under his wing because he felt guilty for what happened, but you still probed a little to see what she knew since Stephane said she had no memory of her abduction by your wicked warlock uncle. You were worried because the amnesia was a trauma response so you just hoped to god Lola didn't witness her mother's death or that Harker didn't do something to Lola.

"I was told that she had suddenly developed some kind of cancer in her stomach? One the healers could not cure. I...I would dream of her from time to time after she passed. The same dream. She is in the forest, frightened and calling out to me over and over, "come to mommy." I don't know why I dreamt of that."

"I know you think Lord Narcisse has only treated me as a simple servant, but he's actually been quite good to me. I've never minded earning my keep to live in such luxury."

You knew that was because he felt guilty for inviting Harker's World of Wonders into his realm. Lola deserved to know the truth but you didn't have a clue as how to tell her.

"You call luxury rooming with two other servants and having to share a bath?"

"Well I don't any more thanks to you and besides, that wasn't Lord Narcisse's doing like you think. I..I wanted to stay in it. It was the room my mother and I stayed in."

"Ohhh...I...no one told me that. Well now I just feel shitty again for getting on Stephane's case to give you better accommodations."

"He had given me enough when he did not have to or even have a reason to. Lord Narcisse, he even saved all of her things for me when I was older and gifted me this on my 16th birthday."

Lola held her hand up to show you a golden bracelet on her wrist, looking to be very real and very expensive, and it had a single fancy script letter on it. J.

"Lola...that is sooo beautiful." you gasped. "Was that..your mother's?"

"Yes. I remember her wearing it. I do not know where she got such an expensive item but lord Narcisse made sure it was given to me when he figured I was old enough not to lose it I suppose."

"That was so very kind of him. May I ask...what the J stands for?"

"I assume it was for her name. Jocelyn."

"Joc...celyn??" you sputtered, immediately thinking of Sarah's mother who went missing right after Sarah had, but before you both could continue the conversation, a sound was heard of multiple horses feet coming up the gravel entrance to the castle and the clanking of the gate opening. For that to happen, it must have been someone of importance considering Narcisse had his kingdom on lockdown and from what you could see, it appeared to be someone of high stature.

Two men on horses led a carriage, followed by at least two dozen other men on horses appearing to be guards. One of the leading men was of short ebony hair wearing a casual style cloak and the other was quite debonair, like Narcisse, that had longer strands of golden waves and curls, wearing a fancy cape with patterns that reminded you of the floor throws Stephane had laying about through his halls.

As the carriage approached the gate, you could see two women inside, dressed in attire similar to the pretty blonde man. Once they passed under the stone wall, you could see no more, but you certainly heard Stephane's voice and it did not seem to be a pleasant tone.

"Lola...who are all those people that just came in??"

"THAT...would be King Francis and his wife Mary and her snooty sister Kenna. The other man is his deputy assistant Conde'."

"A King??" you marveled and ran to the opposite side of the terrace to try and get another look at this blonde King while Lola giggled. Also, you were very curious as to why Narcisse was upset.

"Yes. He is Catherine's eldest son with the late King Henry of Esgaroth. Francis and Lord Narcisse are not friends by any means, which would explain his grievance of Francis' arrival. Francis blames Lord Narcisse for his father's death and his parent's division. I do not know all of the details but I am sure he is here for his mother."

"Hmmph. I was in Lake Town for quite some time once and I never met him, only that vile assistant deputy Alfrid who got his just deserves. Hopefully Francis is here to take the wretched witch away!" you reeled. "Where has he been all this time and why has he not come sooner?"

"I can only presume the responsibilities of Lake Town has kept him away. Even now, they are still rebuilding after the dragon attack. And as I mentioned, there is no love lost between he and Lord Narcisse. What I do know is that he and Catherine are quite close and corresponded through letters often. She does no wrong in his eyes. So I think we can all see how this visit is going to go."

You continued to watch as Francis and Stephane shared sarcastic greetings and then suddenly, the young King glanced up and locked his azure orbs into yours, but not without Narcisse noticing.

"King Francis. A word in the courtyard. Now." Stephane barked and gave you a disapproving look as he impatiently waited for Francis to exit.

"Oh yes Lord Narcisse. You and I have much to converse about." Francis snidely remarked and then went on his way, giving you another glance as he did so.

You then stood to watch the two women exit the carriage as the coachman gathered their belongings. The brunettes with long locks giggled and paid no attention to anyone, not even Francis, then strutted inside the castle as if it were theirs.

Stephane and Francis walked onto the sheltered patio of the courtyard and stopped by the burning braziers to offer some heat on the breezy December evening while both men had theirs guards chaperoning in near corners.

Narcisse approached Francis, fidgeting with the gold ring on his right hand like he would do when pressing matters were about. Sometimes it was his nerves or possibly even intimidation depending upon the threat, but in this case, it was neither, for he had no fear of Francis, no matter the vicinity they were in.

"Bard gave me word when he arrived here that you would also be arriving, but the funny thing is, I do not recall inviting you."

The golden haired King, who stood merely two inches shorter than Narcisse, glowered at him.

"I do not need an invitation where my mother is concerned. You see, she has always written to me, but when Bard began returning with no such letters, I knew something was awry, not to mention the things she previously told me only furthered my suspicions and Claude's letters only confirmed them."

"Let me remind you that, you may be a poor excuse for a King, but you are no King in my realm, just as I am not in yours. I allowed you in for one reason and one reason only. For Charles and for Claude. As far as Catherine, well, if you have come to claim her, that will not be happening, for she has committed many crimes here and must atone for them as anyone would. Besides, she will not leave Charles behind and he will not go with her, for he has come to see the monster she really is. Not to mention, it will be over my dead body before my son will leave here with either of you."

"That could be arranged." Francis warned, as he also had no fear of Stephane.

""You dare threaten me on my lands??!"

"I don't like you." Francis blatantly said.

"I don't care!" Narcisse immediately riposted.

"You need me." Narcisse snidely continued. "My lands feed your people and your words will have you sharing a dungeon cell with your malevolent mother and her rather large furry feline foe."

"And your actions will start a war right here on your grounds or did you not notice the company I have brought. Surely you did not think I would come alone to a kingdom wreaking of wretched warlocks?"

"My warlocks outnumber your small-scaled and powerless squad. Of course I knew you would not come alone. That's what cowards do. You're a disgrace to hold the stature of a ruler. Young, ignorant and very overconfident. Much like your father and look how that all ended for him."

"My father was murdered, but you knew that because I believe you were behind it. And for what, the riches my mother stood to inherit before she knew there was none??"

"Since you want to delve deep into the past, it was no secret that King Henry and I shared a mutual dislike of one another, but let me make this crystal clear. Your mother was never that special and I certainly did not nor do need more wealth. I assure you, I had no hand in his death. Now you on the other hand that we speak of, didn't like him either and you had plenty of motive to want him gone, didn't you Francis? His beddings of a different woman every week and leaving your mother penniless with only the clothes on her back when he learned Charles was not his son, then later removing her from his will all to hypocritically punish her for her infidelity, the very same thing he was guilty of and let us not forget, with him gone, you would inherit the oh so heavy crown. But, laying all that aside, a jousting tournament is hardly murder. Your father was an undefeated champion yes, but that does not make one invincible. Death is always an obvious possible outcome of the sport...that is unless someone is not in it for the sport, but solely for the intent to kill. Maybe you should be questioning his opponent...or maybe YOU were the opponent underneath that metal hood."

"I'm questioning you. And now you have recently killed my uncle in the gambling tournament of fighting to the death, who was also a reigning champion. Were that not your sole intentions??"

"It is the entire INTENT of the game for all who play it. It was a fair and square fight and being inebriated while doing so, in which he highly was, is at one's own discretion. Your uncle got exactly what he had coming to him because he killed MY father out of greed. Theodore was my good friend and he knew this castle inside and out. My father trusted him, just as I did. How simple it was for him to do and even more simple for me to figure out."

"And what motive did he possibly have to do it? Well, that's what's simple. You see, I know your dirty little secret. Theo told me all about the bribe he was offered from the man who looks exactly like you and he was quite adamant about it. Why would he say that? And why is it that you wanted him dead for doing exactly what you paid him to do? You call me a coward, yet you couldn't even do it yourself. Or did you? Theo also claimed that when he arrived, your father was already dead. It would seem if anyone is hypocritical, it is you when you speak of greed or accuse me of murdering my own father. Is that not what yours was killed for? The crown per se?"

"It was not me who conspired with Theodore to murder my father and the fact that he said it was should answer your question as to why I wanted him dead. And of course he would place the blame elsewhere and I was the perfect scapegoat and look how easily you believed his fabricated farce of a story. He was simply there to rob my father blind of his gold and got caught, so he silenced him."

"I did believe him and I still do...but with that said, he was just as guilty for accepting the baleful bribe. Now, as you said earlier, it is the past, as far as my uncle and your father are concerned anyways, but this...this is not."

Francis pulled out two worn envelopes from his surcoat and held them at waist level as he intensely stared at Narcisse, who's eyes slightly gaped from immediately recognizing the one with your name on it.

"I thought this might get your undivided attention." Francis gloated. "You see, one of these is from my mother, explaining in great detail what the other letter is and your involvement in concealing it from the one known as the Queen of Mirkwood, which I assume was the ever so lovely redhead my eyes had the privilege and pleasure of gazing upon moments ago. I can see why you would want the contents to remain unknown, for you certainly could never compete with the infamous Elvenking for the heart of his Queen and one true love."

"What do you want?" Stephane quietly stressed as his eyes cautiously scoured his surroundings for curious ears.

"I believe that is quite simple. I can make these both go away, right now by tossing them in this fire. In return, you will release my mother and allow her to roam wherever she pleases, including here if she chooses to do so, my sister too and you will no longer use Charles as a bargaining chip. Just know, I...still know what you've done if you decide to cross me. I will not hesitate to inform Josephine. And keep in mind, I am far from ignorant as you put it. I too, can play a mean game of blackmail and I know how you love games."

"Do you have any idea what your mother has done?? If anyone is murderous, it is she and I would not look so far past the fact that she may indeed be the one who had your father killed out of revenge for disowning her and to claim his fortune. Not only ignorant you indeed are, but blind and biased as well in condoning her actions. Catherine has committed a series of crimes in my kingdom. She used black magic and placed it upon me to alter my morality. She poisoned a Marchwarden of Lorien and used your sister in aiding her evil deeds. She tortured my beloved horse and made me believe she fed him to me AND she tried to have the ever so lovely redhead killed that you had the privilege and pleasure of gazing your eyes upon. Oh, and let me add that she likes to place dead rats in people's baths and has now wormed her way back into my castle and into the infirmary from self inflicted wounds. The woman is rabid. Completely mentally unstable and deranged, but it seems those words are too big for your pea sized brain to comprehend, so maybe the word crazy will suffice. You are making one deadly mistake if you force my hand in releasing her."

"No one is forcing you to do anything. But you, you are the one who forced my mother's actions by deceiving her with your infatuation of a woman you will never have. As I said, it is simple. Release her and all will be well. Don't and all hell breaks loose for you." Francis negotiated as he held the envelopes up towards the flames, waiting for Stephane's approval.

"This is in every way forcing my hand. But as I always say, I do love a good opponent. Heed my warning though. If anything happens to Josephine at Catherine's hands, you will suffer dearly. Burn it."

Francis then dropped the letters into the flaming brazier as Narcisse skeptically observed and once the incriminating words began to burn, Stephane lightly grinned as he locked eyes with a pleased Francis.

"Now that this is settled, I am going to get settled in with my wife, then see my mother and siblings. It's been a long journey here. Dinner, dancing and drinks would make for a celebratory evening yes? Considering we both got what we wanted."

Francis headed off while Narcisse glared his exit down with jungle cat eyes slitted like that of a viper as he growled through his teeth.

"I did not get all I wanted, but I will be greatly satisfied when you and your mother no longer breathe. All in due time young King."

Stephane Raged through the halls, his cape flapping about behind him as he made his way back to his chambers to numb his anxiety with some wicked Dorwinion whiskey.

Francis was cautious, glancing back at the two warlock guards watching him as he made his way to meet his Queen as she waited just around the corner of the hall.

"It is done. My mother will be freed."

Mary smiled with happiness for her King and they embraced.

"Your plan was brilliant." Francis added in his win.

"And he didn't ask to see the contents of the letters?"

"No. I burned them before he could discover the pages inside were blank."

"Since I put them in the original envelopes, well, I think you could imagine the look on his face when he saw the one with Josephine's name written on it by Thranduil." Francis gloated. "He thinks he's free now of any evidence linking him to knowing the King of the woodland realm is very much alive."

"He may not know you still have the real letters, but he knows that you know the truth Francis and although it is just your word, it is still a threat to him. He's a very dangerous man, enough to kill his own father and with what he's done to Catherine, your uncle and possibly to your father, I think it's safe to say that you're not safe and Dorwinion is our main resource of food."

"If he comes after me, it will start a war he does not want or need and he made sure he reminded me of his food supply but you know as well as I and everyone else how he feels about children. He would never deprive them. Now, I'm sure you have chosen a chamber. Come, let us settle in and prepare for this night's festivities."

On his way to his chambers, Stephane indulged in multiple goblets of his wicked whiskey as he alerted his staff to begin arranging the night's impromptu party that he was no way in any mood for and contemplated skipping all together, but he knew he couldn't, not with Catherine's presence. He had to protect you, regardless of how angry the both of you were with each other and he knew you were going to be even more angry when you saw her. How he was going to explain her release was far beneath him at the moment.

Stephane felt like he was losing control of everything, including losing you, if he hadn't already and to add insult to injury, it was all happening right there in his own castle and he was powerless to stop it. His men were being picked off one by one by the warlock wolfhound Harker with his brother Bash almost being one of the brutally murdered. Catherine was now going to be free to wreak more havoc all because he was being coerced and blackmailed by her self-satisfied son. Thranduil's letter would never have been discovered by Catherine if he had just done away with her long ago and then Francis would have no knowledge of it to hold over his head. Although the incriminating letters were destroyed, Francis still knew which made him an added liability. What the convinced King didn't know though, was the truth regarding the death of Stephane's father. Francis' theory was partially correct but of course Narcisse had denied any involvement in it. The story he had told you about it was more accurate, minus a few major details. Details he felt you would not understand and would cause you to see him as a monster and for a brief moment, he understood how Garrett felt and why he left.

Narcisse entered his chambers, mumbling bitter words under his blazing breath as he furiously freed himself of his jacket.

"You smug little weasel. You have made a very grave mistake."

As he approached his desk, Narcisse froze solid at his image in the mirror on the wall.

Stephane slowly walked up to it with his gaping blue eyes staring into those of his own, but the reflection was that of another man baring his face. A man with long chocolate locks that wore a sleeveless scarlet red robe. A man he knew as Lord Darken Rahl.

Bringing his hand up to touch his face, he watched his own lips move in sync as he whispered to the doppleganger.

"It cannot be. You're.. you're dead. I killed you."

"Guard!!" he then shouted.

The guard swiftly entered and bowed.

"Yes my Lord."

"What do you see?"

"I..I'm sorry? my Lord?"

"In the mirror. What do you see??"

"I...I see you, my Lord."

"What do I look like?"

"My lord, you...you look like...you?"

"WHAT do I LOOK like in the fucking mirror you imbecile!?? Do I have to spell it out for you?! WHAT AM I WEARING?!! WHAT DOES MY HAIR LOOK LIKE?!!" Stephane thundered as his eyes glowed of the sun.

The guard was now wondering just how much of the Dorwinion whiskey Lord Narcisse had consumed and he knew nothing good came from his raging eyes, so he quickly answered with a short but exact description.

"My lord, you are wearing the same attire you have worn all day and...your hair...is short and brown? In the mirror and as you stand before me."

Narcisse whipped his head to the guard, then immediately swung it back to the mirror with a gasp when he still saw Rahl. Was he hallucinating? Because clearly, the guard did not see what he did.

Stephane's paranoia had now turned into a paroxysm of fury. Three times he pummeled the mirror with his fist as the white tiger's roar bellowed out of him.

He now stood heavily panting through flared nostrils, glowering at Rahl's fractured face as he held his hand that dripped of blood.

"Are you alright my Lord?"

"Leave me." Narcisse grumbled. "Go and inform the Queen of this evening's dinner party and ask her to come by my chambers beforehand. It is of great urgency."

"Which Queen my Lord?"

"There is only ONE Queen in this castle!!! Now GO!" Stephane barked.

After the guard departed, Narcisse poured another glass of whiskey and reclined on his sofa to try and ease his stress and anxiety. He knew he had to tell you about Catherine before you found out some other way. He also knew that his vision, if real, was a far greater danger than Catherine and as he once tried to make you leave to protect you from her, he might possibly have to do it again to protect you from himself.

After the guard's visit to your room, you sunk into a warm bath and contemplated going to see Stephane. Not even an hour earlier, he had said all those awful but true words to you. Was he going to try and apologize? Did he really need to? Because his reaction to Haldir kissing you was as expected and validated, except for making Haldir leave. The guard had relayed to you that it was urgent, so you decided you better at least find out what he wanted.

When you finished, Lola then took Leean in for her bath and you began to prepare for this spontaneous dinner gathering. As you sat at your vanity, looking into the mirror, your thoughts once again went back to Garrett without your consent.

"Damn it Garrett. Where ARE you??" you spoke aloud in a tearful voice. "I just need to know you're alright ok? I...I miss you so much. I...I need you. Please...please come back to me."

Simultaneously, in a land far far away, Jareth's witch Queen Ravenna was anxiously pacing about in her colossal castle she had acquired for her and Jareth's only sister Freya, who had now been successfully converted to the dark side. The two blonde witches had departed the goblin King's realm long ago to track down Ravenna's and Jareth's warlock son, but without prevail, for Jace did not want to be found, especially by his parents.

Ravenna's relentless nerves had nothing to do with Jace though. She had a very big problem of her own. The very youthful and beautiful blue eyed sorceress with long wavy locks of sunshine was aging due to a curse placed on her centuries ago by her own mother-in-law, the very powerful winter witch Jadis. In order for Ravenna to maintain her youthful glow, she had to consume the souls of children. It may have sounded a simple task for a witch of magic to complete, but there were strings attached. They could be no more than 13 years of age and 3 per day, no more, no less, was required to keep the wrinkles away. The kicker was that they had to be given to her and Harker had been her go to for that, but with his time being spent in Dorwinion, Ravenna now had to rely on Freya to bring them to her, who had left hours ago and had not returned and the clock was ticking, for the children's souls had to be ingested before the strike of midnight.

Her pacing continued as her orbs of blue skies darted between the clock and the mirror at every turn of her path and it wasn't long before Ravenna began to have her own hallucinations. On the next crossing in front of the mirror, she gasped in panic to see herself as an old woman with dried out gray hair and skin of old worn and cracked leather.

"NO! It is not so! It is not me!" she cried in anger as she tightly squished her eyes shut.

With hesitation, she opened them to then find her image of beauty restored. The pacing then continued and in her desperation of needing reassurance of her beauty to calm her insecurities, Ravenna asked the mirror a question.

"Mirror mirror on the wall. Who is the fairest of them all?"

Expecting to see herself, she halted her steps and fixated her eyes on the blank reflective glass. A swirling pattern formed in the center and grew in size until the entirety of the mirror was spinning like a record and then...an image began to appear. An image that was not her own, but an image of you and she knew exactly who you were with your lustrous locks of fire and doe like eyes of the moon.

A resentful rage of seeing red filled Ravenna's gaping eyes and she rushed to the mirror to smash it on the stone floor.

"How dare you betray me like this!! LIES! It is ALL LI..." she screeched but then her words and her feet came to a skidding stop when she heard you speaking as you sat at your own mirror.

"Well now. The widow of the Elvenking desires his fiendish foe, the vampire King, Garrett Lee. You are no fairer than I little witch of loathing light. No one is! You did not earn your beauty. I will make you see that not every man desires you. By the power of three times three, make her see..."

With a wicked grin and a single twirl of her slender finger, Garrett's image appeared in your mirror and he wasn't alone.

Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes connected with his crimson hues and then fell upon a very much alive Kate wrapped in Garrett's arms whom you also locked eyes with. Gasping, you sprung to your feet.

"G..Garr...ett?? What...how..."

Ravenna began to speak through the projection of Garrett, but it was his voice you heard.

"Hello Josephine. As you can see, my Queen has returned to me and I'm going to have to ask you, no, tell you to stop contacting me. I am moving on just as you need to."

You clamped your eyes shut and rubbed them, whispering aloud that it wasn't real, that HE wasn't real.

"Oh I'm very real. How else are you able to hear and see me? You're wide awake are you not? And Kate well, I thought the same thing when I saw her too but it's all very real Josephine. Anywho...I would wish you the best but you already had that with me so now I am going to stay at the side of someone who wants to be with me and does not grovel over a dead husband that she'll never be with again. I have finally excepted that I do not belong in your life. It's time you accept it too. Welp, time to fly. It's been real. Enjoy being alone."

"No...WAIT!!!" you shouted in desperation, making Ravenna cringe as her power was weakening from the lack of youth fuel.

"I..I have been looking for you! I...I have so much I want to say to you. Please Garrett...I don't want you to go away. I miss you terribly."

Garrett's eyes rolled in sync with Ravenna's.

"Groveling again. You're too late. I don't want you any more Josephine."

Your eyes were now burning and dripping of tears.

"Why are you being so cruel?? I...I heard you...I heard you singing to me just the other day?!"

"I am a vampire Josephine! We are cruel!" he snapped. "And...I was not singing to you. I was singing to...Kate!" Ravenna stammered out because she did not know all the details of yours and Garrett's relationship.

"Liar! Why are you doing this???!! Are you trying to make me hate you???"

"YES!! because that is how I feel about you now! YOU were the cruel one. Go chase ghosts and get over yourself. You're not that special."

Kate smirked at you, then looked up at Garrett. "I love you my King."

"And I love you my Queen. Always." he replied and kissed her right in front of you.

You began to tremble like a violent earthquake.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" you screamed as you ripped the mirror from the vanity, slammed it on the floor and began stomping on it with your 4 inch spiked heels until Garrett's face became a pile of sparkling dust, then you fell to your knees and doubled over into a blubbering bawling mess.

Thranduil floated through the magical waters of the blue lagoon within his chambers to try and relieve his own frustrations after the validation that Jareth's blood coursed through his veins. It wasn't that he wasn't enthralled with his new dark elf lord image, it was how he obtained it, for he despised the goblin King in ways he had no words for and that said a lot in itself because the Elvenking always had a colorful dictionary in his 6000 year old mind. To add to his misery, Legolas had been turning a deaf ear to his words and was also keeping his father from hearing his thoughts. If his son did not respond soon, Thranduil would have no choice but to go reclaim his daughter himself.

Once out of the pool, Thranduil relaxed in his chair, completely bare with his legs sprawled open to view his aching rock hard cock as he indulged in his wicked wine before dressing for the evening's feast to celebrate his return. The magical waters had allowed you to enter his thoughts which in turn had caused the solid throbbing mass standing before his stomach leaking droplets of precum that shimmered in the candlelight.

Cursing at his oppressing cock under his breath as he reluctantly submitted to entertaining it's demands.

As he arched his head back and closed his eyes, he firmly gripped his member and began stroking while he envisioned you upon his lap, his girth sliding in and out of you with your taut nipples being ravaged by his twirling tongue. Moans and groans escaped his parted lips as he rocked his hips up into his pumps and within seconds, his moans and groans became bellowed grunts as his essence pulsed over his chest.

As good as the release felt and was much needed, he still found himself cursing again that it had been brought on by you, the woman he now loathed.

Thranduil cleaned himself up and then began to assemble his attire upon his body. Once satisfied, he made his way to the mirror on the wall to assure his long platinum strands were in place to his satisfaction. As he brought his eyes to his reflection, satisfied was far from what he was, for he now looked into his moonstone eyes and upon his perfect porcelain skin. His dark image had returned to that of light, but his mind had not.

"Wretched water." he snarled as he side eyed the healing vat of liquid.

As he turned to walk away, your distressed cries came from the mirror, Thranduil's head whipped back with a slight gasp slipping from his mouth. There you were, in the mirror, sobbing upon the floor and even in your state of despair, to him, you looked as beautiful as ever.

Thranduil's heart palpitated and caused a single tear to fall from his eye. Feeling the wetness upon his cheek, he brought his fingers up and wiped it off. Holding his palm out before him, he gazed at the pea sized puddle on his fingertips. His hand began to tremble and his lips pursed as his nose flared from the heavy gust of breath he released in anger.

The mirror was ripped from the wall and crushed beneath the Elvenking's large leather boot, twisting and grinding it deep into the glass.

"Be gone witch. You have no power here!"

A pleased grin formed at the sound of the crunch and then the dark elf lord swiftly turned to attend his feast.

youtube

27 notes · View notes

blowflyfag · 8 months

Text

WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : MAY 1990

YOUTH, SPEED, & FURY

SHAWN MICHAELS FACES BRET “HIT MAN” HART

It promised to be a dream matchup. Bret “Hit Man” Hart and Shawn Michaels, components of the two of the World Wrestling Federation’s most dynamic tag teams-the Hart Foundation and the Rockers, respectively–agreed to test each other’s heralded ralents in a singles bout. What followed was a dazzling display of wrestling scientific and grueling combat. Even after the contest became inflamed to the point that the referee had to call for a double disqualification, each gladiator left with great respect for the other.

“I didn’t expect anything less.” stated the handsome Michaels, unwinding in the dressing room with his partner Maety Jannetty after the bell. “When you sign on the dotted line against Bret ‘Hit Man’ Hart, you sign to fight a hurricane. I had to give it all I had, and—if you ask me—I came out of the battle looking pretty good.” He touched a bump above his left eye and joked, “This’ll heal fine, and soon I’ll be breaking hearts again. But the first thing on my mind right now is Bret Hart. What I wouldn’t do to step in the ring with him again and gain a decisive victory!”

Several yards down the corridor, the mood was the same. Hart and teammate Jim “The Anvil” Neidhart looked at one another and grinned.

“Tough kid,” Neidhart muttered.

Hit Man shook his head. “He fought some match. My ears are still ringing from his punches. I’d love to say ‘I didn’t know he had it in him,’ but that’s not true. The reason I wanted this match is that I knew that Shawn Michaels is a fabulous wrestler. I’ll give him this: He knows how to mix it up. I guess next time I’ll have to play a little bit harder.”

In the stands, the fans were almost as winded. The bout had been so intense that it seemed to blur past the spectators. When one man applied a punishing hold, the other was quick with a counter. As soon as the referee broke a clutch, the grapplers were tangled up again. When the combatants decided to start bending the rules, nothing less than a four-man brawl—starring the Rockers and the Hart Foundation—followed.

“These guys didn’t let up for a single second, observed manager Bobby “The Brain” Heenan, normally on the opposite side of both competitors. “I’m not saying that either of these chumps could beat one of my men, but I still watched the match with interest. Because Hart and Michaels are similar types of wrestlers, I figured I’d see what they use against members of the Heenan family. That’s the key to smart managing, pal. Learn their repertoires and use the knowledge to your advantage.”

[Bret Hart showed his lightinglike reaction time and his quick reflexes by grabbing Shawn Michaels in a reverse atomic drop when the two ran the ropes.]

Heenan was intrigued by this contest. While the manager is short on praise for his foes, his interests in the Hart-Michaels confrontation can be interrupted as a compliment to both men. By taking meticulous notes on the match, Heenan sent out a clear message: Hart and Michaels are at the top of their profession and pose a threat to every other wrestler.

The information was not news to the battlers. The bout had come about through mutual respect, coupled with the desire to overcome a formidable challenge.

Michaels was clearly the hungrier of the two, and his thirst for greatness was understandable. In Hart he saw an accomplished athlete, solid in technical skills and proficient in fisticuffs, who had “made it” as both a singles and tag team grappler. With Neidhart, Hit Man had held the WWF Tag Team Championship. In individual competition, he had established himself as a contender for the WWF Championship and Intercontinental Titles, and he was even profiled in a special issue of WWF Wrestling Spotlight.

Hart was just as anxious to log a victory. Despite Bret’s apparent youth, he has grown into a hardened veteran of the mat wars, and he wanted to ensure that he had not grown rusty. Hit Man viewed Michaels as one of wrestling’s “new breed,” one who rebels against the conventions of ring combat and who improvises and innovations in each match. The moves utilized by the Rockers impressed Hit Man, and he admitted feeling twinges of envy. Hadn’t he also been labeled a spectacular new force in the early days of the Hart Foundation? From the dressing room entrance, Bret watched the Rockers wage war with the mountainous Powers of Pain. He was reminded of the Foundation’s brace encounter with Andre the Giant in the closing moments of Wrestlemania 2’s battle royal. He wanted a bout with Michaels, to test himself.

Rather than being divided in its loyalties, the crowd was solidly behind both wrestlers, giving each a rousing cheer as he made his way to the ring with his regular tag team partner. To offer moral support–or, perhaps, when two fiercely determined athletes square off–Jannetty and Neidhart remained at ringside after the bell rang.

The match began in a sportsmanlike fashion, and it seemed relatively even. They locked up collar-to-elbow, with Michaels backing Bret into the turnbuckles. The Rocker broke the hold, detaching himself from his foe. When they tangled again, Hit Man applied a reverse wristlock. Michaels wiggled, loosened his opponent’s grip, then slipped behind Hart and clamped on a hammerlock. Bret displayed his experience by reversing the maneuver.

The fireworks that would be seen later in the match were ignored in the manner in which Michaels broke the hold. He thrust his elbow backward into Bret’s throat. The gesture was hardly a whack with a closed fist or a kick to the rings, but it qualified as roughhousing.

Hart recovered swiftly. He caught the Rocker in a reverse atomic drop and leveled him with a meteor of a clothesline. A snapmare appeared to disable Michaels further, but the war was just beginning. Whether the Rocker had exaggerated his injuries or recovered from the brink of defeat by pure heart, he still will not say.

[Shawn Michaels struck with solid skill and dazzling moves. In the end, tempers flared, and a wild, full-fledged brawl ensued.]

What is known is that Michaels began fighting as if he had never been hurt. He slid out of the way of his foe’s elbowdrop and did some fancy spinning in midair to land on his feet after a backflip. Hart turned around to be blasted by a dropkick. Seeing Hit Man sprawled on the canvas, Michaels went for the kill.

His planning was premature. Bret waited for his opponent to mount the top rope before gripping him from underneath and hurling him across the ring. Possibly embarrassed by Michaels’ good showing, Hit Man got tough and unleashed forearms and elbows.

Tempers were starting to flare. Michaels contained his anger long enough to avoid a side suplex–doing a 360-degree turn while being lifted, landing on his feet and bodyslamming Hit Man. Again, both men ran the ropes. This time, it served neither’s advantage, as they elbowed on another and hit the mat simultaneously.

A classic moment occurs when they rose and took turns exchanging suplex attempts. The defensive skills of each were so refined that neither could accomplish his task.

Frustrated, they wrestled into the corner. Neither wished to break. Asserting his authority, the referee wedged between them. When separated, they could not wait to duel again. Words were exchanged, then shoves. Bret clocked his adversary. Jannetty stepped onto the apron to argue with– and then punch–Hit Man. Neidhart chimed in and was slugged by Michaels. Within seconds, the ring was flooded with WWF officials trying to restore order in a four-way free-for-all.

Remarkably, the bad feelings were left in the ring. Each man recognized the others gutsiness, and each will go so far as to compliment the rival tag team. Both the Rockers and the Hart Foundation pledge support for each other if it is needed.

But if it is not, Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels cannot wait to tear into each other again.

#wwf #world wrestling federation #shawn michaels #bret hart #marty jannetty #jim the anvil neidhart #jim neidhart #bret the hitman heart #The Rockers #The Midnight Rockers #The Hart Foundation #Bred #magazine scan #magazine transcript #wwf magazine scan #wwf magazine

34 notes · View notes

chloe-caulfield94 · 3 months

Text

Max's and Brooke's drone date

Max: Now that you've entrusted me with your drone's remote, do you mind me asking you for a little bit of personal advice?

Brooke: Not at all, Max. Go ahead!

Max: How do you attract someone? What I mean is ... Suppose you set your heart on somebody. What would you do to get them?

Brooke: Grab them! And take them!

Max: You grab them and take them?

Brooke: Take them! Like that.

Max: So ... You mean to say that I should wait until after they tell me that they wouldn't refuse if I offered to bang them, that I make them feel like they have a reason to stay in a place they've been dreaming of escaping from for years and that nobody is good enough for me except for them. And after they ask me to kiss them, proclaim to everyone they are going to be my date for today's party and quarter-jokingly propose to me, right? Only then I should grab them and take them?

Brooke: Perhaps I haven't been clear enough. Max, waiting for good things to come your way is the opposite of grabbing and taking. Now, let me give you an example. Imagine Chloe is ...

Max: [blushes red as a hibiscus flower]

Brooke: I mean, imagine a completely hypothetical person of unspecified name and gender who hasn't had a particularly easy life so far finds themself in a difficult spot. Even though they want nothing more than to be with you, they start to push you away, because that's the only thing they know when it comes to relationships - being left behind. If that happens, you should tell them they are your number one priority now, the only thing that matters to you. You grab onto them and not let go of them, no matter what. And then you take them someplace where the past has no hold over you both.

Max: That was ... helpful. I'll keep all of that in mind. Not that I doubted it before, but you really are smart, Brooke.

Brooke: Max, I'm a straight-As student. I'm not bragging, that's just stating the fact. If you are able to comprehend chemistry and physics, you can understand human beings very easily. When you think about it, every single thing happening in your mind, every thought and emotion, including love, is a result of chemical reactions and physical processes taking place in your nervous system.

Max: I'm ... not sure if what you just said is reassuring or depressing. Anyways, how do you know so much about Chloe ... Sorry, the hypothetical person I asked about?

Brooke: It may be difficult to believe now, but freshman and sophomore years Chloe was top of the class in chemistry. We would compare notes ... and sometimes smoke joints. Studying and school in general can be so stressful. That's how I used to unwind. And Chloe had much more to unwind from, with her father's death, and all that stuff going on at home ... You know, at one point I owed that creep Frank Bowers a hundred dollars for weed. He put me down in his notebook. He was pretty aggressive in collecting. I lied to my parents that I needed extra money for school supplies and I managed to quickly pay him off before he could balloon that sum into the thousands with outrageous "interest", like criminals always do. I know Chloe owed him too. But I couldn't help her. What I got from my parents was barely enough to cover my debt. And then we drifted apart. I hope he's not still bothering her.

Max: He is. It's really bad. But she has a partner now. I won't let anyone hurt her ever again.

Brooke: See, Max? You're a natural at this "grabbing and taking" thing.

--------------------------------------

This started out as my attempt at "incorrect quotes", with the joke being that Brooke is equally as determined in pursuing love as Grace Jones's character in "Conan the Destroyer". But then it grew into a short story.

#max caulfield #chloe price #pricefield #life is strange #lis #brooke scott #frank bowers #incorrect quotes #incorrect life is strange quotes

8 notes · View notes

victorluvsalice · 2 months

Text

Valicer OT3 Week, Day Seven: Free Day!

It's the finale of OT3 Week! Thank you @ot3-week for bringing it to us! And, as is tradition, the final day is a "free day" for anything you may want to write --

And without a prompt to guide me, I naturally went back to my beloved Valicer In The Dark trio! :D Because my favorite AU of the moment definitely needs to be represented during this week as well. So have the trio hanging out in their lair after they've gotten established and fixed the place up some, with Victor bringing up an interesting topic of conversation...

“This is about as far from how I expected my life to go as possible.”

Smiler looked up from their spot on the floor, hand still wedged in the brushes of their Smile Sweeper automaton. “Hmmm?”

“It’s just – whenever I pictured my future, I pictured the plan my parents had made for me,” Victor continued, absently picking out a melody from the piano. “An arranged marriage to whoever was most likely to get them the status and the house in Brightstone my mother so craved. A job working in, then running Father’s cannery once he was ready to give up the reins. Children whenever Mother decided she wanted grandchildren. Things like that. I never – I hoped that I would come to love whoever my parents picked out for me, and that they wouldn’t mind me having a dog, but other than that...I didn’t really have any dreams for myself.” He looked around the living room. “Certainly not any that included me running away from home, becoming a Whisper, and setting up house in Six Towers with two people who actually and truly love me.”

“Don’t forget becoming a semi-famous criminal,” Alice put in, eyes still on her sketchbook.

Victor snorted. “That too. But yes – it’s really not where I thought I’d end up in life.”

“I don’t think any of us expected to end up here,” Smiler pointed out, finishing unwinding the thread that had tangled in the brushes. They flipped the Sweeper back over and switched on its electroplasmic battery, causing it to come back to life with a happy ping! “On my end, I thought I’d be living in Advocate headquarters for the rest of my life. Helping out fellow Advocates, advancing our causes, eventually trading Joy Serum sales on the street for taking over the shop in Nightmarket from Mum and Dad. Maybe get married and have children, maybe not – I wasn’t going to commit until I knew for sure it was going to make me happy. But in my future, I always put the Advocates first.” They grinned. “Then a man fell out of a wall in front of me and Alice, and everything took a big old left turn.”

“It was more to our side,” Alice said, smirking as she looked up. “But they have a point, Victor – do you think I expected any of this to happen? I couldn’t picture a future for myself at all for years – all throughout my time in Rutledge. It was too hard to think of a life without my family. And even when I realized I had to and defeated the Queen of Hearts to get myself out of there, I never thought much beyond the next week or so – simple survival always took precedence. Hell, even when you caught me on the way to Nan’s to talk to her about Bumby and what I should do, Smiler, I didn’t have any plans beyond taking care of him.” She bit her lip, lowering her sketchbook to her lap. “I think, subconsciously, I assumed I’d immediately get caught for his murder and Hollowed out.”

“Alice,” Victor started, getting up from the bench.

“I’m fine,” Alice assured him, holding up a hand. “And that’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? I’m fine. Not perfect, but – bloody hell, in a better state than I ever thought I might achieve after Rutledge. I still talk to things that aren’t there, sure, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was. Wonderland’s even gone from hindrance to help, in fact – you two know my hallucinations are better at picking up things than I am sometimes. And as for the rest of it – I’ve got a roof over my head, I’ve got time for hobbies, I’m making a difference for those less fortunate than myself – in a very illegal manner, granted, but fuck the Bluecoats and all the corrupt shites they stand for–” She looked from Smiler to Victor, expression softening. “And I’ve got two people who love me, which is two more than I ever imagined.”

Victor smiled, going to join her on the couch. “Me too. I’m – I’m so happy I fell out of that wall in front of you two. Or, to the side, or – near you,” he finally said with a laugh. “Let’s just say near you.”

“I’m happy too,” Smiler said, releasing the Sweeper onto the floor and getting up to join them. “I don’t even want to imagine life without you two now. You’re my best friend, Alice – and you’re the best partner I could have ever dreamed of, Victor. I love you both so much.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Alice said, taking Victor’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “I know it was a bit of a long, bumpy road to get here, what with all the nonsense surrounding how we met and our chosen profession, but – I am so glad we put in the work.”

Victor squeezed her hand back, then took Smiler’s as they sat down next to him. “Me too. I am truly blessed to have you both in my life. I can’t wait to spend all our remaining years together.”

“Same,” Smiler said, leaning their head against his shoulder.

“Same,” Alice echoed, doing the same. “I just hope we have plenty of them – we have ticked off a lot of powerful and important people.”

“Well, they have to find our heavily-warded and ghost-protected house first,” Smiler said with a cheeky grin. “And good luck to them.”

“Mmm – though, that reminds me,” Victor said, looking between them. “I overheard in the greenhouse the other day a woman talking about how she was looking for someone to steal a brooch back from her estranged husband...”

4 notes · View notes

0asisbliss · 1 day

Text

The garden

Parings: Buddha x Fem!Reader

A/N: He’s been on my mind recently anddd..

Even Gods need time to rest Buddha knows that surely. He takes time for himself, and he knows when he needs to relax and unwind. When he’s not feeling going under his tree to relax, he knows this other spot. Somewhere only few people know of. It was a little garden. Fresh fruits and vegetables. Buddha enjoyed sitting there, and picking out random strawberries to snack on. So when he finds you in his usual spot the he rests in he gets a little bit territorial.

You were lying down on a blanket on the ground looking at the sky. You wondered what it would be like if you had godly power, or the power to do what you want whenever you wanted. And to have whatever you wanted. It left you in a dream state imagining all the things you would do with such power. While daydreaming you get rudely interrupted by a shadow blocking your sunlight.

“Uhm- excuse me?” You sit up to find a new face look down at you. You’ve seen him before you just can’t put your foot on it. You stared up at him eyeing him down, but not in a disrespectful way kind of in an admirable way. He was gorgeous he had the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen, and he had quite a nice body.

“Uh. You’re in my spot woman.” He voiced as his eyes still glared down at you.

“Oh! Uh I’m sorry I just come here to pick my berries, and I just laid down for a moment.”

He had to be a God his presence was strong, and not to mention his alluring physical features.

“Oh, you have berries in this garden?” His expression change suddenly.

You looked down before answering his question not wanting to look him in the eyes due to your overwhelming nervousness.

“Yes I do sir- uhm would you like some?”

Buddha looked you up and down before laughing loudly. You kept looking away due to you thinking you said something awfully stupid.

“Sir? You don’t have to be so formal woman. What’s your name again?” He said still glaring down at you, but it was softening little by little. Something about you made Buddha feel warm. Your aura was welcoming, and almost sweet.

“(F/n) uh, (L/n)”

Buddha shifted you to sit down right beside you. Now you were confused he interrogated you then he proceeded to sit beside like two are now the best of friends?

“Hey, so do you do anything with the berries?”

Okay? Another question? You thought.

“I actually bake with them. I make strawberry cupcakes, jam, and I do a couple of other things.”

“Hm. Okay why are you here?”

You looked at him dumbfounded at his question you swore up and down that you just answered it, but regardless of how stupid you thought it was you open your mouth to answer.

“I told I make berries and I’m here to pick them.” There was a slight hint annoyance in your tone when you answered him.

“Woah. No need to get all upset y/n just curious is all.”

You looked away to roll your eyes, and sat back down. Now you were sitting beside some annoying God you came across. You looked at him and sighed. Wanting to break the awkward silence you spoke up.

“Want some berries though I can clearly see that you ate some of them out of my bush already, but you can have some more.” You smiled when you said this trying to get him to open up more about himself.

“Sure thanks lady.”

That’s all? There isn’t any “well my name is-” You knew be had to fight in Ragnarok. That’s only where you could know him from.

“Your name?” After you gave him this question it hit you who he was.

“Buddha right?”

“Buddha.”

“Oh well okay.”

He was getting up to leave, but something about him made you want to talk to him more.

“H-Hey uh I liked talking to you Buddha.”

“Sure, lady I’ll be back here tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You turned around and sat back down beside the tree. You watched him walk away. You kind of enjoyed his presence. Even wanting to know more about him, but maybe that was just curiosity? Either way you had your mind set on seeing him more.

#snv buddha #snv x reader #snv #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror buddha x reader #ror buddha #ror x reader #ror x you #buddha x reader #buddha shuumatsu no valkyrie

3 notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 2 years

Text

Weedboiii Void | 3. Clever Little Fox*

Summary: Royal is a patient at Eichen House. Colin happens to be, too. But this mysterious boy is more than just fake blonde hair and weed.

He's also the voice in his head.

Word Count: 3.1k

He doesn’t see her walk in.

To be fair, she hadn’t expected him to, her cat-like footsteps easy to miss.

His arm is strewn across his eyes, his back pressed firmly into the cushions, and his breathing light and wispy.

He could be asleep, Royal reckons. After all, she imagines he didn’t get much rest the night before.

After Lawson talked her back to reality, the two had snuck back to their rooms, where not much later, they heard the alarm go off.

Guards and nurses alike swept each floor, each room, and each corner of the asylum in hunt of Colin, but to no avail.

He had disappeared.

Royal had wondered if she’d ever see him again.

But the eerie fog encasing her mind never faltered for a moment, indicating that Void had to be somewhere in the building. Somewhere close.

Turns out, her hunch had been correct, and she feels a wave of relief follow her through the door the moment her eyes land on him.

She assumes, then, that he’s here for one reason and one reason only.

Hiding.

Once morning hit, the alarm was silenced, and the asylum returned to its natural state of insanity, with not one word of Colin’s disappearance.

The doctors and nurses carried on about their duties as usual, and the guards were back to their posts.

Either they knew Colin was still in the building and didn’t want to raise suspicion and upset the other patients, or they had assumed he escaped, therefore rendering the hunt moot.

She’s not sure which version of Colin she’ll find today, but after dreaming about him all night, she realizes…she doesn’t exactly care.

Because both Colin and Void hold the answers she’s looking for.

And she’ll get her answers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” his deep voice grumbles from behind his arm, the words causing a slight startle.

Surprised he knew she was even in the room, her hand lands over her heart. “I’m…I wanted to check on you.”

He scoffs, although he remains in his spot, eyes still covered. “Yeah? And why is that?”

A step forward. “Well…after last night. I wasn’t sure…”

She can’t exactly figure out what she’s trying to say. Mostly because she isn’t sure what he remembers.

Luckily, he catches onto her hesitancy, lowering his arm as he sits up on his elbows to look over towards her.

Her breath gets caught in her throat when she takes in his appearance. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles below his lashes, and the angry scars now further up his neck than before.

“I’m fine,” he grunts, frowning some at the worried expression on her face. “But you shouldn’t be here.”

Her lips roll into her mouth as she begins to nervously pick at her fingernails. “Colin, I—”

“Did you not fucking hear me?” he snaps, sitting up a bit higher until she leans back. “Go.”

But she plants her feet firmly to their spot, forcing the coil of anxiety in her stomach to unwind. “No.”

His eyes linger on hers for a moment before he scoffs bitterly, glancing away as if he can’t bear the sight of her face.

He’s scared.

Lawson’s comment from the night before rings in her ears as she glances over Colin’s face.

He is scared. She imagines she would be, too.

But how can she help him?

Gently, she begins to make her way toward the couch, taking note of the tense in his muscles when he realizes she’s approaching him.

But she isn’t deterred, instead gingerly sitting on the couch beside him, leaving just enough space between their bodies to ease his discomfort.

Without a word, her fingers reach for the marks on his neck, the soft brush of her fingertips causing him to flinch.

“They’re worse,” she tells him, to which he snorts.

“They’re fine.”

“Do they hurt?”

He pauses, conflicted. “Sometimes.”

Her heart aches in her chest for the poor boy, her hand lowering back down to her lap. “I want to help you.”

“I don’t fucking need your help,” he responds instantly, shooting an outraged glare her way. “And you shouldn’t even want to help me after last night.”

“You remember?” she questions, brows raising slightly.

His jaw tenses as he lets his eyes fall over her face, expression softening slightly, although his frown remains put. “Yeah. Bits and pieces.”

“You remember me?” she reiterates, and again, he’s silent.

“Yeah.” He leans back against the cushions. “You had clothes on.”

Her mouth twitches into a grin. “Good, you do remember.”

He fights a smirk of his own as he glances down at his grey sweatpants. “You really shouldn’t be here,” he repeats before eyeing her closely. “I don’t choose when he takes control, and if he wants something from you, then—”

“I don’t care what he wants,” she tells him, although deep down, she knows that’s not exactly the truth. “But I know how…isolating this can be. So, I want to help.”

“Well, unless you have a joint on you, I don’t think you can,” he informs her, glancing over her body as if looking for something. “…you don’t, do you?”

She laughs, shaking her head, to which he sighs. “No, but…I do have an idea.”

“Okay…?”

Now a tad nervous, she leans closer to him, softening her voice to a tempo she hopes will be a bit more convincing. “What if we played his game?”

Colin’s eyes narrow as he spreads his legs a bit further apart, adjusting his position. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…he won’t leave until we agree, right?” she explains, returning to the habit of picking at her fingernails. “That’s why he keeps coming back? So we’ll play? And he can get whatever it is he wants?”

“Yeah…”

“So…let’s play,” she declares. “Let’s play his game. Let’s beat him.”

Colin’s eyelids lower into a look of disappointment. “You really don’t know how this works, do you?”

“I know his hold is killing you,” she retorts quickly, nodding her chin at the aggravated veins. “I know you’re scared of him. Scared of what he can do.”

An exasperated scoff. “I’m not—”

“And I know you won’t ever get to leave here as long as he’s in control of you,” she finishes, and his lips purse shut. “What more do you have to lose, Colin?”

The question he’s surely been asking himself since the moment he first heard the voice, and as she watches the realization pass over his face, she feels her heart leap into her throat.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees as his eyes flicker between hers. “And how exactly do you think we’d beat him?”

“Well…we have to know what he wants first,” she admits, glancing towards the marks as her lids narrow. “And find his weakness.”

“Right, and how do you propose we do that?”

Now, she leans forward as well, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. “We talk to him.”

For a moment, they don’t move, the silence feeding into Colin’s decision as she waits with bated breath.

“You want to talk to him?” he asks, brows furrowing. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“I mean, it’s kind of the only idea we have,” she corrects but attempts to shrug nonchalantly. “If we lure him out, then maybe I can get a sense of how to play him.”

He eyes her for a moment before letting his head drop, a scoff of indifference slipping past his lips. “This is a really shitty idea—”

“I won’t let him hurt you,” she argues quickly, and he looks over. “I’ll keep him calm and if…if something happens…I’ll pull you back.”

“How?” he snorts, straightening up. “You can’t pull me back. Not when he’s in control—”

“I’ll find a way,” she reiterates, placing a hand on his knee as his eyes fall to her touch. “I won’t let him hurt you, okay? I’ll find a way. Whatever it takes.”

He seems to contemplate the decision for a moment longer before nodding once. “Fine, just…do it fast.”

She offers a small smile of encouragement before she leans closer to him, hands reaching up to cup his face as she murmurs, “Void?”

For a moment, he merely blinks at her, but as the seconds pass, she notices the veins crawling up his jaw darkening in color.

The soft brown of his eyes melts into a golden yellow, similar to the color she saw the night before as the blood around his iris begins to deepen.

“I need to talk to you,” she continues, fingers still grazing his cheeks as his head begins to tilt. “Are you there?”

The Colin she sat down next to disappears before her very eyes, the eerie sensation trickling along her spine intensifying with each second.

“Hi, Little Fox.”

She’d know that devious purr anywhere, and her hands quickly drop from his face as he begins to smile mischievously.

“Something wrong?” he asks when he notices her hesitation, surely pleased with himself for causing her confidence to falter.

“No,” she murmurs, before clearing her throat. “No, I’m just…I wanted to talk to you.”

The smile grows. “Did you?”

He almost seems…ecstatic. Which Royal doesn’t doubt for a moment to be true, although she can’t deny it creates an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes, I…I thought about what you said,” she continues, straightening her posture as his eyes follow her up. “And…I have a few questions.”

“You do?”

“I do.” Her heart is hammering inside her chest as she takes a soft breath. “What…what do you want from him?”

Void leans forward, invading the little bit of space she has, and her eyes widen. “Why would you like to know, Little Fox?”

Another gulp. “I…because I think he needs help.”

“Help?” he repeats, rather incredulously, and she nods. “And what makes you think he needs help?”

“You’re killing him,” she replies, and he lets out a soft, borderline maniacal laugh. “You’re killing him, and I want to know why.”

A moment of silence, his eyes falling to her lips before flicking back up. “He let me in.”

She mulls over his answer for a moment, attempting to decipher its meaning. “Why did you need him to let you in?”

“Why do you think?” he retorts, leaning even closer until his voice drops to a gentle mumble. “So I could talk to you.”

Her back meets the arm of the sofa, her heart in her throat as she sucks in a sharp breath. “Well…you’re talking to me.”

“I am,” he hums, hand coming to rest on the cushion beside her thigh. “You’ve been hiding from me.”

“No, I…I don’t—”

“You have,” he repeats, head cocking to the side in warning. “Why were you hiding from me, Little Fox?”

Why the fuck do you think, she wants to snort, but instead, simply shrugs. “I wasn’t sure if I could trust you.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth, fighting another grin. “Do you think you can trust me now?”

He’s closer yet, the smell of Colin’s cologne enveloping her senses as the dark yellow in his eyes practically seeps into her subconscious.

She feels distracted. Fuzzy. Her mind growing hazy the closer he gets to her and it’s familiar to the fog she feels when she closes her eyes.

It’s like he’s luring her into a state of ease and reliance, her body growing heavy as her lashes begin to flutter.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, vaguely aware of the feel of his fingertips along her outer thigh. “Maybe I need a reason.”

A low rumbling resembling a chuckle reverberates from his chest as he dips his head down, a smirk apparent on his face. “Would you like me to give you a reason?”

She supposes she would like a reason if only to make this conversation a bit more bearable, and her head lifts and falls in a slow nod.

He’s pleased with her answer, head tilting as his nose brushes momentarily against hers. “What about now?”

Her lids are falling shut, her breath hitching in her throat as she anticipates the contact. Something that, despite herself, she’s been thinking about since the other day in the hall.

If she were in her right mind, she’d recognize the red flags the moment he waved them. She’d know what a terrible idea this is and remind herself that leaving is the best option.

But…she’s never been in her right mind.

And as Void dips his head a bit lower just to watch her inhale a soft breath, she decides…it can’t be that bad, right?

Whatever it takes.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks her now, the deep lilt in his voice tempting her further into a state of bliss. “Wanted to see if my intentions were true?”

She swallows, eyeing his lips for a moment. “Maybe.”

His other hand comes up to rest on her cheek, cupping her face firmly as he lifts her head. “Clever girl.”

His touch sends sparks through her nervous system, the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers stroking her skin enough to have her melting into his palm.

“I thought I was off limits?” she finds the strength to question, and she notices the muscles in his jaw tense.

“You’re off limits to him,” Void corrects quickly, his tone an ominous warning. “But never to me, Sugar.”

Her chest tightens as he pauses, moving in even closer until all she knows is him.

And then, he whispers, “You’re my clever little fox.”

Before she can fully wrap her mind around his declaration, he’s pulling at her chin until their lips connect, firm but desperate.

She doesn’t know much of anything, but she knows he’s as frantic as she is.

She hadn’t expected herself to give in so quickly. Hadn’t expected it to feel so…right. And she certainly hadn’t expected him to yearn for her the way he seems to be.

Although to be fair, she’s not quite sure if what she feels from him is yearning, per se.

It could be a number of things, and while she’s sure his motivations are much more deceitful than he’s letting on, she can’t quite find it in herself to care.

One hand moves to her hip, tugging her back down onto the sofa as he moves to hover over her, asserting his dominance in more ways than one.

She lets herself be pulled, suddenly drawn to the handsome face above her, despite who’s really behind it.

She can’t deny she has…needs. Fantasies in her head that her own hand can’t suffice. And it’s not like the men in Eichen House are all that appealing.

And if they are, it’s probably because they’re actually bat shit crazy.

The kiss deepens, his tongue slipping past her lips as he tastes her, exactly the way he had threatened to.

She’s reminded of what Colin said that night in the hallway. Of how Void taunted him with her feel. Her taste.

She hadn’t thought much of it, seeing as she wasn’t even sure she understood what he meant, but now…she wonders.

Wonders if the feeling in her mind was how Void knew in the first place. Knew how she felt. How she tasted. Or if it was merely an attempt at trickery in order to lure Colin into a trap.

She supposes it’s not really important, since now he’s getting exactly what he wanted, although she can’t deny she doesn’t feel a bit guilty.

This isn’t something she should want. Not with him. This thing that she’s not quite sure she fully understands.

And yet…his hands. Smoothing up her hip as he moves his kisses to her jaw, suckling a dark bruise into her skin until she’s panting erotically.

His fingers slip beneath her dark grey shirt, his cold fingertips meeting her rather heated skin as they travel upwards, finding her chest.

The lack of brassiere works in both their favor and she can feel him smirk into her neck as he lets his palm run over her chest before pulling her nipple between his fingers.

She arches off the cushions, body colliding into his as he tuts under his breath, forcing her back down with his knee until she sinks into the sofa.

“Relax, Little Fox,” he commands softly, nudging her head to the side with his nose so he has a bit more access to her throat. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

His words rumble like thunder, echoing repeatedly in her mind until she feels her blood run cold, reminding her of who he really is. What he really is.

Even if she’s not sure what that is.

She does know, it’s not Colin.

She’s not sure how aware he is of what happens when Void is in control. If he sees it in real-time or can only experience it through memories once Void slips back into the darkness of his subconscious.

But she is sure that he never agreed to this.

Her hands move to Void’s chest, shoving firmly until he leans back, his eyes darkening in color as he shoots her a glare.

“Stop,” she murmurs, wiggling her body until she can sit up. “I…I need to talk to Colin.”

He clicks his tongue as his head rolls to the side. “Sorry, Sugar. Colin can’t come to the phone right now.”

“I need to talk to him,” she repeats, resisting the urge to flinch as his hand brushes her hip to steady himself. “Just…for a moment.”

“’Fraid that’s not possible,” Void informs her, his volume lowering until that familiar chill reappears. “He’s unavailable.”

Her chest tightens as her eyes flicker over his face. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” he whispers, head dropping back down to hers as he moves in a second time. “I’ve made sure…he can’t get…in my fucking way.”

He’s going to kiss her again, his lips subtly grazing hers, and for a moment…her mind blanks. Exactly the way it had the first time.

But she promised.

“No,” she grits, leaning back as she shoves at his body once more. “No, I need to speak with Colin. Bring him back.”

He moves away from her, observing with narrowed eyes, and she can feel the air get caught in her throat. “Like I said…I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

Her stomach flips, her heart beginning to race as she quickly stands to her feet. “Colin, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to get you back—”

“He can’t hear you, Sugar,” Void hisses, standing as well, although that doesn’t deter her.

“Tell me how to help you, tell me what to do—” she continues as she begins to back up toward the door.

“There is no helping him,” Void retorts as he follows her, his footsteps slow and deliberate. “You think you’re strong enough to keep him safe from me?”

“Colin, please, give me a sign—”

“You want a sign, Little Fox?” he laughs, reaching out to grab the band of her sweatpants before he yanks her closer. “I’ll give you a fucking sign—”

Her hands fly to his face as she cups his cheeks exactly the way she had before, pulling at his skin harshly as she whispers, “Colin…réveiller.”

For a moment, he does nothing but scoff, hateful eyes peering into hers until the sneer on his lips begins to fall.

She watches in awe and relief as the yellow swimming in his irises melts back into the gentle brown she’s used to, the dark veins receding back down his neck as his muscles relax.

His lashes flutter, his expression falling into one of confusion and exhaustion as her hands lower.

“Colin?” she murmurs cautiously, glancing over his face until his eyes find hers.

He swallows, looking down at his hands and body before returning his stare to her. “Yeah, I…I—”

Suddenly, his eyes roll back into his head, and his body lurches forward, collapsing onto hers.

And just like that…

...he’s out.

~ Weedboiii Void | 4. Horny Intentions

~ Weedboiii Void | 2. The Cage

Full Masterlist

#dylan #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien short story #void #void colin #void stiles #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #void stiles smut #void stiles fan fiction

64 notes · View notes