#leaving my skin feeling noticeably healthier

[monster-disaster]

[goblin] Rust

goblin!Rust x human!Reader Good to know: public sex, freeuse

Summary: You work in a bar where the rules are slightly different from the outside world.

The bar is calm. The lights from the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling are dim, casting a warm glow across the place. Quiet music plays in the background. The singer's voice is deep and hoarse. You can barely hear it because of the sound of the bottles as your co-worker fills up the shelves behind you while you are busy swiping down the counter with a wet rag. All around, the air is filled with the quiet murmur of conversations. The clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughters echo off the walls. They are decorated with posters and faded photographs. The wide windows are darkened with the name and logo of the bar. The tables and chairs all around the place were crafted decades ago. They are still sturdy and marked with the memory of the countless drinks poured and the many fights that escalated over the years.

"They are here," the vampire behind you hums, glancing over her shoulder to the window. You can see the motorbikes parking down in a long row. The rumbling of the engines shakes the walls and goes straight to your core. "I can hear it," you reply, watching to door burst open with a loud thud.

Soon, the bar is full of bikers, taking their places all over the room as usual. They are loud and dominating. It's nothing you are not used to. You've worked at the bar for a few years. You know most of the patrons since Grimbrook is usually not a place for tourists. Especially not the bar with all kinds of monsters and humans.

Your next hour is busy with taking care of everything. The smell of alcohol and cheap beer is heavy and thick in the air, mixing with smoke. You can't hear the music anymore through the crowd's constant noise. Laughs and shouts boom every now and again from various tables. The boots thud heavily on the wooden floor.

"There is my favorite girl," the goblin greets you from one of the booths next to the walls. His smile is barely noticeable under his crooked nose. His green skin seems a bit more yellowish under the hue of the lights. The black leather jacket he always wears is over the backrest, leaving him in a black t-shirt and jeans. "Hey, Rust," you greet the male. "How's your night?" "It's better now that you are here," he hums, slipping his hand on your hip. His fingers grope your flesh, letting his nails dig into the fabric of your black skirt. "Really?" You laugh, stepping away from his hold as you put the empty bottles and glasses on the tray in your other hand. "I'm busy." "Well, you wouldn't be if Eva would do her job," Rust replies with a hungry smirk on his thin lips. Following his gaze, you see your co-worker on an orc's lap. The male is big and sturdy. His large hands are on your friend's hips, keeping Eva on his lap as she drinks from his neck. They grind to each other the whole time. "Oh, I think she is doing her job just fine," you laugh. Rust's hand is on you again. "And you?" His thumb grazes your nipple through the fabric of your shirt and bra. "I'm doing it, too," you reply. "Just not the fun part." "Don't make me wait for too long," he shouts after you when you leave their table.

You can feel wetness already pooling between your legs, ruining your panties. Heat lits up in your belly, and you have to force yourself to leave the goblin with his friends and continue your job.

"Are you done?" You smirk under your breath when the vampire female appears next to you. Her usually pale complexion seems much healthier. There is a slight hint of pink on her cheeks, and her lips are red and swollen. "With the orc?" She asks. "Yes. For the night? No." You laugh at her reply while serving the monsters around the counter. Your nose is full of the smell of the various drinks. "Oh," Eva continues. "Rust wants to see you." A knowing smile tugs on the corner of her lips. "I-" "Don't worry," she adds before you can say anything. "I will take care of everything while you are busy." "Like last week?" "Oh, shush."

Leaving the vampire at the counter, you make your way to the booth where Rust is still sitting with a half-orc and a demon. They are talking. The half-orc laughs at something. His head tilts back, and the golden loop around his tusk glint in the light. His voice is hoarse but booming.

Without saying anything, Rust pulls up your skirt until it's around your waist, and anybody can see your matching panties covering your mound. His nails graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he tugs you closer to him until you are sitting on his lap. His body and the desk in front of you barely give you enough space, and you have to spread your legs not to kick Rust's friends. Because of the height difference, the goblin has to sit straight if he wants to continue talking with the others. His voice is a deep rumble on your back, and his words fan over the curve of your neck.

"That's what I am talking about," he grunts into your ear, squeezing your hips as you start to grind down on him. The rough fabric of his jeans and his erection underneath it rub against your slit repeatedly. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every passing second. Your palms are on the table as you try to keep your balance and circle your hips on his lap. You can feel him moving under you. He pushes up, nudging your clit. Your lips part in a silent groan.

The male and his friends continue talking while you chase your own pleasure. Your pussy aches for more, your hole clenches around nothing.

"Stand up," Rust says, stopping your movement. The muscles of your legs flex as you keep your weight above him, slightly bending over the table. You can hear the zipper of Rust's jeans as he frees himself, but your attention is drawn to the demon in front of you. He reaches over the table, unbuttons your shirt, and pushes down your bra until your breasts are bare for his dark eyes. His forked tongue licks across his sharp teeth. Your nipples are tight peaks. The edges of the lacy cups rub against them every time you move.

"C'mere, love," Rust grunts, grabbing your hips again to pull you back onto his lap. His cock slides into you easily. He is not as long as your other patrons, but the piercing at the tip makes you forget everyone else. You can feel the cold metal rubbing against your walls, nudging you in all the right places. "Fuck," the male grunts behind you when you are fully seated on him. You envelop his cock warmly and tightly. He can feel your pussy clamping around his shaft, begging for more. "This is your job, no?" He asks, satisfied. "Keeping my cock warm with your sweet pussy."

And to your utmost disapproval, that's what you do for the next ten minutes. Rust doesn't let you fidget and squirm, craving every bit of friction you can get. He keeps you on him, enjoying your misery while his friends talk and stare at you. Their gazes are heavy and hungry on your tits. You push them out some more with every breath you take as you lean back against Rust's chest. His hands from your side slip down between your legs. His fingers tease across your slit, finding your clit with slow circles. You are soaked. Your arousal drips down onto his lap.

"One more minute, and she will combust," Eva states, smirking as she puts a few new bottles down on the table. Her eyes rake over your bare chest, unashamed. "Do you think so?" Rust jokes but grinds up into your hole. The sudden movement takes your breath away as your head falls back on his shoulder. Eyes flutter shut. "But she is so warm."

He teases you for a few more seconds before making you move on his cock finally. He uses your hole to his heart's content while his friends in front of you stare openly, sipping their beers. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and every circle of your hips as you get higher and higher on the goblin's cock. His clever fingers work on your clit with experience. Rust knows how to drive you crazy with need.

Eva is still at the table, watching. Her dark eyes glint with hunger as she leans closer. Before you know it, your moans get muffled by her lips. Her tongue pushes into your mouth, dominating you while Rust fucks into you. Your pussy is tight and demanding. You want everything he can give you. The burning coil in your stomach grows, and your muscles tense. You almost scream when Eva bites your bottom lip, licking down the blood and sucking for more. The slight pain and the stretch of your aching pussy are enough to push you over the edge. Every nerve in your body bursts with pleasure. Your limbs start to tingle, and your hole clamps down and pulses around the goblin's erection.

"Fuck," Rust groans, pushing you up over the table. Your stomach is flat on the wooden surface. You feel him pulling out of you, and soon, his warm seed paints your waist and ass while you are still shaking after your orgasm. Your muscles jerk, and your pussy clenches.

Blood slips down your chin from the corner of your lips. When you look up and see the demon standing up, too, tugging on his cock a few times before pushing his length into your open lips, you know you will have a long night.

- Masterlist Grimbrook Masterlist Patreon

[xvysarene]

𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕗

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.3k Genre: Suggestive Notice: 3rd person POV, Mentions of alcohol, Slight OOC Zayne (not a teetotaler)

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“I know a healthier way to relieve stress, doctor.”

Alcohol-induced thoughts had rolled off her tongue effortlessly.

She had expected his towering build to abruptly rise and leave her right there, appalled by the provocative comment. A disgusted expression or an unexpected snort would be acceptable too.

Yet, when she finally dared to face him, those sharp eyes locking with hers was not something she expected. Overflowing intensity caused her skin to tingle.

“You shouldn’t offer what you can’t deliver, Ms. Y/N,” his lowered voice warned her, sending a chill down her spine on hearing the way he had addressed her so formally, just like when they were in the meeting room.

The room suddenly spun, but not from the alcohol. No, she only had two bottles of beer, just enough to loosen her tongue like this.

The response in her throat dried as she saw him sipping his whiskey sans ice, Adam apple’s bobbing as he swallowed the deep amber liquid after letting it linger in his mouth, taking in the smoky flavour.

“Well?” Perfectly arched brow challenged her.

Heart pounding rapidly in her chest, she took one last gulp from the barely touched third bottle to calm her nerves before subtly cocking her head to the bar’s exit.

It was one of the rare moments she had seen him smirk and not in response to a challenge in the medical field. 

The faint creaking from the bar stool was loud in her ears as he stood up, settling both of their bills with the bartender, and leaving a hefty tip. His surprisingly warm palm rested low on her hip as he guided her to his black sedan.

Mesmerizing city lights blurred. Her attention drawn solely to the sensation of his thumb slowly drawing circles on her thigh.

Next thing she knew, her back was pressed against the back of his front door, lips locked in a passionate battle filled with intense desire that made her knees buckle.

The strong thigh nestled between her heated core was the only thing stopping her from melting into a puddle on his floor. The friction, a welcome bliss, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

That was the beginning of the agreement, becoming a recurring occurrence whenever both of them needed to blow off steam from the stresses of demanding jobs. Him, saving lives, and her, dealing with difficult clients.

“Thank you for being my stress relief.”

His words cut through her second post-orgasm haze like ice water.

Somewhere along the line of what was supposed to be a no-strings-attached arrangement, small things like having a late-night snack together to deeper conversation during pillow talks grew to be a regular part of the deal.

Feelings for him had begun to bloom, much like the flowers outside with the arrival of warmer weather.

“Are you okay?” The sound of rustling sheets reminded her that she had been silent for too long while staring emptily at his ceiling.

“Yeah,” she simply replied.

Not satisfied with the answer, she felt Zayne’s fingertips lightly tracing above her collarbone, gently checking patches of skin that had turned reddish. They would undoubtedly be bruised by the next day.

“Was I too rough?”

Hands roamed greedily over her curves, warm lips on the sensitive dips and folds that he had become well acquainted with, growls of desire, and powerful thrusts flashed through her mind.

She tried to suppress the memories, though her body still hummed from the aftereffects. “No, just tired.”

He carefully took hold of her chin, noticing that she had been avoiding his gaze. "Y/N, you know you can talk to me, right?" his voice filled with concern. 

“I think that’s the problem.”

Zayne’s calculated hazel orbs bore into hers, searching for the meaning behind her words.

“I’m not sure if you notice, Zayne, but for a casual arrangement, things are starting to get complicated.”

It was his turn to drop his gaze. For someone as bright as him, it would be impossible for the situation to go over his head.

He too must have realised the way their dynamic had changed over time; they had spent more time together in and out of the bedroom. 

At times, they’d simply cuddle through the nights, providing a safe haven without the necessity for words.

She held her breath. There was no going back now. “It's starting to feel like more than just sex—it has been for some time.”

Retracted fingers sent a clear sign that he was about to take a step back, the gesture as clear as the darkness enveloping the night. The guarded mask was back once he met her gaze again.

“We both agreed that this was meant to be casual. I don't want either of us to end up getting hurt.”

It sounded like an automated response even to his ears. He grimaced.

Y/N's heart sank. Despite the obvious signal of his withdrawal, his words still pierced her heart. “I see,” she said quietly, distancing herself from him slightly.

Zayne could sense her disappointment and reached out to touch her arm. “Hey, Y/N, it's not that I don't care about you. I just…” his words faltered.

“I understand,” she said, forcing a smile. “I believe it might be best if we stop doing this then.”

He breathed out slowly. “Yeah, you may be right.”

A curt nod was directed at him. “I should probably get going anyway.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s past midnight,” Zayne immediately stood up, trying to stop her. She tried hard not to look down at his abs or any other part of his anatomy. “I’m not asking you to leave. You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”

“I just prefer to sleep on my own bed tonight, but thank you for the offer.”

He watched as she quickly slipped on her clothes and gathered her things. 

“Let me drop you off at least,” he pleaded.

“I'll take the 24-hour taxi on the corner of your street and send you my location,” she shut him down with the same assertive tone she used when closing deals.

As he closed the door behind her, a part of him wished she hadn't seen him at the bar that evening when he had let his heart rule over his brain.

“What is it?” Zayne took the pen out of his pocket and began to add his notes to the patient’s file.

When no response came from the direction of his office door, he exasperatedly looked up, about to shoot daggers at whoever was interrupting him.

Greyson, his assistant and regrettably a close friend out of work, stood in place, watching his every move.

“Less than fifteen minutes to the meeting; you were normally ready half an hour before that.”

The grip on the pen tightened as he concentrated back on jutting his notes down, making sure he didn’t miss any important details.

“I have some urgent things to attend to earlier.”

Greyson hmmed. “Yeah, things that you normally assign to the junior doctors so they can 'practice more' as you often phrase it."

Zayne knew that engaging with Greyson was futile since he would never win—a rarity, given that he would typically be the one in Greyson's shoes in any other situation.

“Let’s go, don’t want to be late for such an important meeting.”

As Greyson walked one step ahead of him, he did shoot daggers at the back of his friend's head all the way to the meeting room.

Nervous fingers, poised to adjust the tie, froze in place as he noticed Yvonne sent Greyson a knowing look once they entered the conference room before setting her eyes on him.

“Ah, Doctor Zayne and Doctor Greyson are here,” the hospital administrator greeted them from his seat.

He cleared his throat. “Apologies for running late.”

“Not at all, Doctor Zayne. You are, in fact, right on time,” Y/N said, acknowledging him after finishing setting up her laptop for the presentation.

"It's good to have you back, Ms. Y/N,” Greyson said as he took the seat across from him.

“Likewise, Doctor Greyson.”

“No offense to your colleague, but we were afraid we’d get a new account manager.”

The smile faltered slightly on her lips, clearly taken aback by his assistant’s nonsensical comment. “I had a business trip last time, which was why I had asked my colleague to step in for me.”

“We find that consulting with you is a more enjoyable process for us, as you're familiar with our requirements, isn’t that right, Doctor Zayne?"

Greyson’s sudden query left him unprepared. He sent his friend a quick warning glance before nodding, afraid that his carefully crafted pretense of nonchalance would slip away.

“Right, since everybody is here, should we start the meeting then?” the purchasing manager spoke when he finally put his phone down, not paying attention to the conversation as he was busy texting anyway. “Ms. Y/N, what new devices do you have for us?”

As Y/N started her presentation, Yvonne’s hushed words reached his ears, “Would you like some water, doctor?” The nurse’s hand appeared in his line of vision, handing him a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” he replied, making the mistake of looking into the nurse's eyes. Her perceptive gaze told him she knew how surprisingly affected he was by Y/N’s presence.

For once, he regretted instilling in those who work under him the importance of being observant of their surroundings.

Y/N’s fingers traced the rim of the glass, lost in the haunting cadence of the singer's voice. 

The lady poured her heart into each note. Each lyric dripped with the bittersweet of longing, a testament to love that lingered just beyond reach.

“Pretty uneventful for a celebratory night, don’t you think?” The bartender—Ethan, she had learned his name—approached her again once the end of the workweek crowd had slowly dispersed.

“Perhaps,” she replied, “but it allows me to rearrange my thoughts.”

She had found unexpected companionship with the bartender, who had recognised her from the night her loose tongue had led her into a difficult situation with Zayne.

Despite its prime location at Moonshadow Avenue, the jazz bar remained a hidden gem, often overlooked by the bustling crowds.

It was the perfect place to enjoy some time alone outside the confines of her home, feeling it a little too empty lately.

“People normally do that within the privacy of their home,” he responded knowingly. There was a kindness in his eyes, a silent reassurance that she wasn't alone in her solitude.

She sent him a small smile and savored the final drop of the ruby-hued liquid. A delicate hint of orange zest, weaving through the complex herbaceous notes, warmed her body.

Ethan took the empty glass. “And that, ma’am, is the last glass for tonight.”

When he saw her let out a playful huff despite the buzz that she was feeling, he offered a gentle warning, “Negronis can sneak up on you quicker than you think. Wouldn't want you making any bad decisions now, would we?”

“Alright, dad.” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes to his retreating figure, feeling grateful for his watchful care.

As the band moved on to another piece, she cast a look around the room. Couples were huddled together, allowing intimate conversations to blend with the somber tones of saxophones and pianos.

The warm, honeyed glow from antique lamps illuminated their faces, creating playful shadows dancing across their features. Every exchanged smile spoke volumes of love in a myriad of languages shared between them.

Feeling a churn inside her heart, she grabbed her purse, ready to call it a night.

“It’s on the house,” Ethan tutted after serving another patron.

“I had more than one glass tonight,” she warned and slid the card to him.

“If I ever undergo heart surgery at Akso—God forbid”—he knocked on the polished bar to ward off any bad luck—“I’ll make sure to thank you personally for the devices you sold to them.” With that, he slid the card back across the bar.

Y/N shook her head at his antics and handed him a generous trip instead. “Thank you, but just this once.”

“Anytime, milady,” he quipped, bowing dramatically. “Get home safely.”

She waved goodnight and stumbled a bit, the buzz from the drink intensifying as she rose from the stool. Ethan’s advice was spot on—any more drinks and she might have found herself spinning along with the room, tripping her way out the door.

The cool breeze of the spring night air hit her, a welcoming sensation that helped clear her head. Phone in hand, ready to order a ride, she thought she caught a whiff of a sterile smell, a scent that reminded her of the corridors at the hospital. 

Heart racing, she looked up at the sound of a familiar voice softly uttering her name.

“Y/N?” he called out again as she blinked at him.

It was Zayne, still clad in the white shirt and light beige cotton vest combo he had worn earlier in the day, looking like he just finished his shift.

Though he had rolled up his sleeves, allowing the world to get a sight of his strong forearms.

A faint sigh slipped from his lips as he extended a finger in front of her face, moving it from left to right, checking to see if her eyes focused on it.

“You’ve been drinking more than I thought.”

“What are you doing here?”  Y/N countered, not expecting to see him.

Those unmistakable hazel eyes peered down at her, before looking to the side, lost in contemplation. 

“I need to see you. Figured you might have frequented this bar again and I was right.”

Her mouth opened and closed, mind racing on how to respond to that.

The lively younger crowd suddenly shifted, eager to migrate to a happening spot as the night was still young to them, and she found herself jolted into his embrace.

Apologies from a younger girl fell on deaf ears as her focus was captured by the arms securely wrapping around her figure.

“Let me drive you home.”

It wasn’t a question. The same words he had uttered the night she left his house echoed in her mind.

City lights blurred into a colorful haze, much like the first time she sank into the plush leather seat of his car, though her thigh felt empty.

The hand that had rested on it previously was gripping the steering wheel tightly, trying to restrain itself. The silence between them was heavy, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he finally broke the silence when her apartment came into view.

Zayne turned off the engine and turned to face her. “But seeing that you’ve had some drinks, it’s probably better if we do this when you’re completely sober.”

“Meet me upstairs,” the words came rushing out of her mouth, surprising him and her both.

He looked into her eyes deeply. “Are you sure?”

She nodded swiftly and opened the car door, stepping out before she could second-guess her decision.

Upstairs, weary feet paced back and forth, the sound of footsteps echoing softly in the quiet apartment. Fresh breeze swept through the opened windows, bringing clarity to her mind.

Soon, there was a soft knock on the door, and her heart raced faster. She was met with the sight of him who had shed his vest and tie. That sure wasn’t helping her nerves as he somehow looked even more dashing than before.

She could feel his heat as he passed her. Suddenly, her apartment felt small with Zayne standing there, his presence filling the room.

“You have been busy,” he remarked when he saw the pile of papers stacked on her coffee table.

“I’m just trying to do more work to take my mind off…” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Of you.

“Of what?” Zayne prompted. “Is everything okay?” He genuinely looked concerned, softening her towards him even more, if possible.

“Just a lot in my mind lately,” she opted to say.

He hmmed understandingly and they resorted to another silence. Feeling parched, she took a swig of the chilled water from her fridge, aware that his gaze was tracking her every move.

“I saw you hurriedly walking down the hospital corridor a couple of months back,” he said quietly, “avoiding me as if I were contagious.”

And yet, she had done it again earlier in the morning. After successfully closing the deal with Akso, the businesswoman's confidence evaporated as their hands clasped in a shake.

The familiar hold of his hand ignited a surge of memories, memories where he had once gripped both of her wrists effortlessly, guiding her into moments of ecstasy.

It prompted her to hastily make an escape.

“I just...didn't know how to face you, and I didn’t want to make things more awkward between us.”

His hand caught her chin, lifting her head that had hung low from embarrassment. Her breath caught, only noticing how those broad shoulders were closer than before.

“I’ve missed you.”

Doubt stealthily crept into her. “You mean the sex?”

“That’s a totally different context,” he clarified quickly, "I care about you. More than I've ever cared about anyone else. And it drives me crazy knowing that I have hurt you.

“You were right, it hadn’t been just a casual arrangement for some time," he admitted, voice tinged with fragility that she had heard sneaking in within the safe space of their pillow talks. “I’m a coward who thought that completely baring my soul to someone will only end in heartache.”

“Well, I have a soft spot for this particular person who dares to bare his soul.” Her smile was gentle, though he didn’t miss the mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Did you finally admit that it was more than physical or is my mind playing tricks on me, Doctor Zayne?”

A small chuckle escaped his lips. “Judging on your playful quip even when I’m being serious and…” His thumb brushed against her jugular, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her pulse beneath his touch. “…seeing that you’re responding even to the slightest touch, it seems that you’re fully alert right now.”

Smouldering gaze pinned her down to the spot. Their heads tilted closer, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull.

“Though, I never refuted that I didn’t miss the physical aspect, did I?”

A surge of heat rushed through that one spot south of her body. “So, Mr. Coward, what’s your next brave move going to be?” her words came out in a breathless whisper.

With a barely audible exhale, he grabbed her by the back of the neck. Mouths moved in a passionate dance of need, their kisses growing more desperate with each passing second.

As they fought for oxygen, he withdrew, forehead touching hers. “Are you sure this is something you want? Right after we talk about things between us are more than just sex?”

“Didn’t you confirm I’m ‘fully alert’ earlier?”

She tugged on his collar, drawing him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The fabric of her pencil skirt felt constricting as his skilled surgeon fingers toyed along the waistband.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” she managed to gasp out in between her moans, tilting her head back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck to his wandering lips further.

“No,” he replied, voice thick with a feral need.

Puffs of hot breath danced across her skin, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand proud. “Will you stay the night then?”

Full-blown dark irises locked onto hers, a sly curl exclusively reserved for her tugged at the corner of his lips

“I thought you’d never asked,” he breathed, before lightly nibbling on his favourite spot. The spot he knew would elicit the sweetest symphony from her lips.

Peppered purplish marks would for sure grace her neck for the next couple of days. And perhaps a few other places on her body too.

[reallyromealone]

SOULMATES PART 2

WARNINGS: MALE READER, OMEGAVERSE, SMOOCHING

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

(name) was bleary as he was brought to a place that seemed like an endless castle, set on a soft bed as Muzan crouched beside him "you will live here now, you're my omega and I have expectations of you"

(Name) let the Alpha change his clothes into more elegant sleep clothes, his hands colder than the lake water "you're human so what you experienced would be rather traumatic on your body, sleep" Muzan said bluntly, never leaving room for discussion "we will discuss this when you wake"

(Name) was too exhausted to argue, body betraying him as it relaxed into the bed, the blankets and sheets soft on his skin.

Muzan knew it would be inevitable for them both to grow attached to one another, the bond of being soulmates would make it impossible otherwise, he just had to be patient.

(Name) slept for nearly three days, monitored by Muzan as he slept through his body recovering, now that he was near his alpha his body was becoming healthier.

He was pleased his mate was a sibling of a pillar, having something against them would be helpful indeed.

(Name) subconsciously moved closer to the scent of spices and bourbon, a strong hand caressing his face "I know you're awake, I can hear your heartbeat" Muzan said as (name) cracked his eyelids open "hello Omega"

"...are you going to kill me?" (Name) asked softly as he was lifted into a sitting position, Muzan surprisingly gentle with the Omega "it would be counter productive to kill you" Muzan said simply as he cleaned any sweat from the omegas face "you're my soulmate, if you die then I die and if either of us die, its said to feel worse than death for both parties"

"Where am I?"

"The infinity castle, my domain" Muzan had no right having such a smooth voice, eyes burning into him "don't leave the areas permitted, you will fall to your death if you do so"

"I-I see"

"I suppose we should talk about expectations" Muzan said formally, eyes unblinking as he stared down his Omega.

(Name) can't believe it got to this point, he was mates with the man responsible for killing those he cared for dearly... But his Omega preened under the attention from the Alpha, happy to have his eyes on him.

"Don't interrupt me while I work" Muzan started "stay out of the way"

"And I will kill whomever it is if you commit adultery before your eyes"

"I have some demands as well" (name) said pushing up that Shinobi strength, if he was going to be trapped here... Might as well lay down what he wants as well. Muzan raised an eyebrow but didn't speak "I want nesting materials, my omega likes your scent..." (Name)s voice was barely above a whisper as Muzan kept quiet "a-and I enjoy (hobby) and reading... If you want me out of your way, could I at least have something to do?"

"And I want to be the only Omega"

"Those things can be arrainged, the bond doesn't allow me to hold interest in anyone else"

"And... Would I ever be able to see my brother again?"

"Absolutely not"

(Name)s heart sunk at this, the realization that he would never see his loved ones again "could... I at least... Could I have a photograph of him?"

Muzans face was cold but his instincts made it hard to resist such a simple request "I can have one of my minions retrieve one" standing up he immediately went to leave, halting at the chirp that escaped (name)s lips, the Omega covering his mouth as soon as it came out.

Muzan pretended like his alpha didn't lose it over that sound and left.

(Name) awoke to the room filled with supplies for his hobbies and piles of books and nesting materials of the highest quality one could seak.

"This must have cost a fortune..." (Name) said softly, taking notice of expensive looking clothing boxes "I won't allow my mate to dress like garbage" Muzan said bluntly as he watched (name) open the top box, revealing an expensive looking yukata.

Muzan was definitely using items to remove any thoughts of defying him, wanting the Omega to be devoted and obedient to him as an obedient Omega is a less annoying Omega.

(Name) was already looking healthier, Muzan having made Daki get food for the Omega, something that made the woman bloodthirsty with rage.

She was doing tasks for a human!

This was far beneath her!

Though she would never ever do or say anything, he respect for her lord was far to high.

Currently her and her brother have managed to get a photo of a demon Slayer, the sibling of Lord Kibutsuji's Omega.

None of the moons have seen this Omega yet, their lord having kept him locked away from prying eyes and Doma as a concept.

Which fair.

She wouldn't want her mate near him either.

(Name) craved to see outside, missing the warmth of the sun under his skin.

(Name) was just thankful Muzan remembered that humans have needs like food and the restroom.

Muzan hadn't touched (name) since they got here, speaking to him when he woke and when he was going to bed.

The conversations weren't much, (name) mainly asking questions and getting short and simple answers.

He missed his family and the slayer's, before his soulmate he hoped he would possibly be soulmates with Rengoku....

(Name) crushed those thoughts, accepting his fate of being locked away in this maze of a castle with a mate who wouldn't touch him or look at him long....

Tengen was a mess.

His baby brother ripped from him "god knows what fate he's enduring..." (Name) was strong, he also came from the upbringing the white haired man had but he was no slayer....

"Muzan won't hurt him" Shinobi said simply as she stared at the distressed alpha "if he hurt him, he would receive the same pain"

That surprisingly did help him, knowing his brother couldn't be harmed.

"I need to get him back"

(Name) hummed softly as he worked on his hobby, distracting himself as the lights of the candles casted a warm glow on him.

Muzan didn't bother changing to his original form, wandering to his mates room in his female appearance and staring at the omega who looked so focused on what he was doing.

"Hello?" (Name) looked confused at him, a woman who reeked of his alpha and Muzan could smell... Jealousy? Interesting.

"What are you doing?" Muzan asked in his usual tone and watched his Omega calm down and assess what was before him "you're a pretty woman alpha" he commented, not even joking... Just an observation.

Muzan kept a neutral expression and stepped towards his mate, the Omega initiating contact by taking the demons clawed hand and having him sit beside him "I'm almost done..." (Name) said softly, showing him the project and explaining the process.

Muzan knew all of this already, having lived so long he's seen it all but he let the Omega explain his passion and the demon Lord found he enjoyed seeing his mate so dedicated to something.

"I will be working late" was all Muzan said before standing, the Omega grabbing onto the sleeve to the alphas yukata with a whine, clearly touch starved.

Muzan knew omegas were needy creatures and sighed.

(Name) yelped as he was lifted by his alpha, still in female form but none the less a force to fear.

(Name) hesitantly rested his head on the others chest, finding it to be soft and comfortable as the demon walked down the endless halls till they reached a room, a floor desk and many books scattered around "this is a part of my lab, you aren't to go into the other rooms, it's dangerous for a human like you" and if (name) gets hurt, that could be bad for Muzan.

Muzan set (name) in his lap and began working, the Omega subconsciously purring as he got to be close to his mate, his Omega forcing him to crave the touch and attention of the demon and (name) slowly gave up resisting.

Muzan let (name) play with a lock of hair around his face, focused on his work.

Then he felt warm lips against his cheek, eyes widening as he glanced at (name) who snuggled into him, body slowly slumping and Muzan adjusted him so his head rested on the others thighs and listened as the others breathing and heartbeat slowed down, the Omega falling asleep.

Muzan continued his work as his fingers gently raked at the nape of (name)s neck, close to his scent gland.

After that Muzan was more willing with contact, the two spending time reading with (name) in his lap or close to one another and though Muzan was still as chatty as usual it didn't matter as like his brother, (name) could converse for hours.

Muzan usually would have killed anyone who spoke this much but the Alpha found himself enjoying the sound of the omegas voice, their heartbeat... Muzan realized he was in love with the human.

His mate.

His soulmate.

Past Muzan would have been appalled at what he was doing, the demon gripping (name)s neck and jaw and pulling him into a demanding kiss, the Omega squeaking slightly and clinging to his suit but reciprocating the kiss.

(Name)s lips were sweet and warm, unlike Muzan having a firm grip the Omega gently cupped his jaw with his hands, thumbs gently rubbed his cheeks as he turned to straddle his lap and move the kiss into a slower pace.

Muzan was surprised he let the Omega do that.

He wouldn't ever admit it but he would let the Omega get away with a fair bit.

"My heats... It's soon" (name) said softly as they parted, (name)s head foggy from the kiss as Muzan gently pecked at his lips "will... Will you join me?"

"Of course, I am your alpha am I not?"

(Name) smiled and let the Alpha steal his lips once more.

[lovely-vanserra-sunshine]

this ain't no love that's guiding me

Thank you so much to the mods in charge @erisweekofficial! I'm so excited to participate in my very event week!

Written for day 2 - childhood/legacy

Summary: Eris knew this arrangement was inevitable. He was the Autumn Heir and Autumn Heirs need to have a wife and child. What he wasn’t expecting was just how soon it would happen.

With the situation uncertain and new, Eris needed to adapt fast to his surroundings, learn how to say the right things, and wear the mask that made his father proud. Thankfully, growing up in the Autumn Court taught him how to mature quickly.

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, arranged marriage

Read below or on ao3!

Looking at himself in the mirror one last time, Eris reached a trembling hand up to smooth out the fine hairs that refused to lie flat. Not even the servants, who fluttered around him like a swarm of flies from the moment he was woken up that morning, could do anything to slick back all of his slippery, copper hair into the leather tie at the nape of his neck. The baby hairs flew in odd directions and frizzed the more they were messed with.

His fingers traced idly over the bridge of his nose, feeling the slime of the creams that were thrust upon his face, made up of a combination of honey, leaves, and flowers. It reminded him distinctly of his etiquette tutor. She was strict, and reeked of a floral perfume.

Eris asked his servants multiple times if the facial cream was necessary, if it really was, in fact, what the boys his age were putting on their faces. They all reassured him, in tones that increased in gentle exasperation as time wore on, that the facial cream was normal and was only there to make his skin appear healthier. No one would notice, they said.

Eris noticed though. The cream seemed to make the freckles across his nose brighter, bringing about an innocent appearance that seemed to cling to Eris no matter how hard he tried to rid himself of it.

As he stood there in his bedchambers, alone for the first time all day, the silence that Eris usually took comfort in, suddenly brought a flurry of twists and flips in his stomach, like the way the leaves outside would whirl when a storm was coming.

What if he stepped on the female’s foot? Or his hands were so sweaty, her fingers slipped right out of his? Or even worse, what if the steps he was forced to practice nearly every evening with his instructor vanished from his memory, leaving him to trip and stutter in front of the entire ballroom?

Everyone would be watching, their eyes full of mirth and delight, sneering, “look at the Autumn Heir, can’t even manage a simple dance.” His parents would watch on, and what would be worse—his father’s rage and disappointment or his mother’s concern and pity?

Eris allowed his eyes to trail over his face, noting with a wince how his face had flushed so severely that his freckles were no longer visible. He took a deep and unsteady breath in, held it, willed away the rosy cheeks, and let out a shaky exhale. 

He would be fine. He had to be.

There was a knock on the door behind him. 

“Come in,” he called, voice high and squeaky. The urge to scream in frustration was only squashed by the unbridled tremors that wracked his body.

“My,” his mother sighed, appearing behind Eris in the mirror. Her hands reached out as if she would place them on Eris’s shoulders, but then she hesitated, and they fell flat to her sides. “You look so handsome, Eris.”

Handsome.

The harmless comment somehow hit him hard. Eris knew he possessed no handsomely rugged features or large bones that Autumn court males were supposed to have. And he knew, even as young as he was, that all the other boys his age were starting to fare much better than he was. They, at least, had grown taller and some lucky ones even had hair under their arms. They weren’t constantly told they were too small, or had eyelashes that were too long, or had delicate fingers that were too graceful for someone who was supposed to wield a sword.

Eris met his mother’s gaze in the mirror only briefly. Those russet eyes used to hold endless warmth when she made eye contact with Eris. But now, as of recent months, they always seemed vacant. Like she wasn’t listening to anything Eris told her, and she was no longer interested in the things they used to do together.

He dropped his eyes to the bump hidden underneath the layers of her dress, at the way her hands rested upon her stomach. It didn’t look like much, not with the careful way she arranged her skirts, but Eris knew, and the resentment burned stronger and stronger each day that bump grew. 

“Feeling nervous?”

“Nervous?”

Eris’s breath caught in his throat. He thought he was getting better at it, at hiding his nerves, thought he was getting good at pretending. His father wouldn’t approve of this and he’d definitely leave a mark on Eris’s skin if he even heard of it. The simple thought sent his heart racing.

He quickly cycled through responses.

Not at all nervous.

Maybe a little.

Was it too obvious?

But which would please Mother?

And which would please Father?

Eris squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, practiced that certain little, head tilt that he always thought made him look a little crossed-eyed as he looked down his nose, but it usually brought about a prideful smirk from Father, so it must not be as clumsy as he thought it looked.

“Not at all.”

His mother frowned, and Eris quickly dropped the look and fiddled with the strands of his baby hairs again.

Not the right response then.

She watched him for a moment, and then her mouth quirked on one side.

“Not nervous at all?” she asked, chin gesturing to his nervous hands.

“No.”

She let out a small snort and brought her hands up quickly toward his face. Eris’s reaction was immediate and instinctual. It happened so fast, he wasn’t even aware he did anything until he saw the way Mother’s face fell and her eyes took on that far away look again.

In the mirror, he saw his stiff, bony shoulders lifted up toward his ears, saw the clenched fists at his side. Belatedly, he realized he had gasped.

It was quiet for a moment. Eris wasn’t sure if either of them were breathing. And then, slowly, she reached her hand once more toward him and Eris did everything in his power to hold still as she placed her palm against his hairline and allowed her hands to warm against his skin. With gentle fingers, she trailed them slowly over the frizzy baby hairs, silently pulling some longer strands of hair out of his leather tie and twisting it, heating it as she went. When she got to the ends, she started over. 

Eris wasn’t sure what was going on or how to process all of the conflicting emotions. Everything was confusing. Like there was a raging tornado inside his head.

He felt the beginnings of his throat close up, and it finally dawned on Eris, as the pressure behind his eyes began to burn, that the only thing he really longed to do was crawl into Mother’s arms and cry.

Instead, he bit his bottom lip, and pushed his head gently into his mother’s warm hands. She smiled at him, one full of warmth. 

“I’m afraid you’ve inherited these unruly baby hairs from me, my firefly,” she whispered. She brought her hands up again to slide them slowly over his hair once more. “Luckily for you, I know how to work with them.”

She gently, and ever so slowly, placed her fingers under his chin and raised his head. His hair was finally lying obediently with all the others, twisted into somewhat lazy braids on either side of his head.

Eris couldn’t lie when he thought the braids made his hair look even shinier and feather soft. It showcased the delicate point in his ears and the golden piercings that glinted against the candlelight. He tilted his head left and right, admiring the array of colors that shone in his hair.

Then he caught a glimpse of his face and discovered, to his horror, how the hairstyle accentuated his eyes and his cheekbones, how it emphasized his innocence and made him look frail and delicate. Like a maiden. Like the maiden he was expected to woo today. He wrinkled his nose. 

“Will other boys—they don’t—I’m going to be…” he stuttered and broke off abruptly.

“They’ll have braids in their hair too.”

“But Father. He won’t…” like the way I look, he filled in silently. 

“Never mind your father.”

“But—”

“You are the heir to the High Lord of Autumn, Eris,” she interrupted. “What you do and what you wear, whether it’s in style or not, will become fashion. If they’re not wearing braids today, then they’ll be wearing braids tomorrow.” She stopped to catch her breath, her face flushed.  “And your father, whether or not he approves of your hair, will approve of the way you set standards for others.”

Eris was skeptical, but the weight of his mother’s eyes on him combined with the subtle nod of her head made him feel slightly better. He could at least admit that she was right about him setting trends. It also helped that her words were different than what he heard all day.

Don’t worry about what everyone else thinks.

“Okay,” he finally uttered.

She smoothed her hands over his head one last time, exhaling slowly. In a softer tone, she said, “I’ll have to teach you how to work with those pesky hairs.”

"I'd like that."

“I’ve been meaning to teach you, but…” she trailed off, her hands coming to rest on her stomach. Eris didn’t miss the way her eyes seemed to do that thing again, where it looked like she wasn’t looking at anything. “Well, I’ve been very busy.”

“I know, Mother.”

He didn’t know, actually. He never saw her. In fact, he was certain she stayed in her private chambers for as long as she could.

“Maybe one day…” she started again, her hands still rubbing absentminded circles on her stomach.

They hadn’t talked about it at all. That bump of hers. Eris wasn’t sure if he was supposed to know about it, since neither Mother nor Father had spoken of it once. He had no idea what to make of it, especially since it had only ever been him and his parents for almost a decade now.

“Well, I suppose you have other manners to attend to,” she said, making her way toward the door.

“Yes, Mother.”

“I will see you at the banquet.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She stopped at the door and turned, hesitating. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at Eris, her russet eyes sharp again.

“You’ve inherited more than just my unruly hair, Eris,” she said slowly. “Your cheekbones and lips are mine, I’d say. And you have my quick wit, curios mind, and kind heart.”

She took another calculated breath, and with it, came a quick flare of heat that blew through the room, fanning across Eris’s cheeks in a whisper.

“And I don’t care what anyone in this Cauldron forsaken court says, but that fire in your blood is from my family line.”

The candles around the room flickered at once and Mother stopped to take another deep breath. She smoothed her hands over the front of her dress, those fingers stilling over that bump. The candles settled.

“Your grandfather passed down his love of dancing to me,” she said, quieter now, “and I don’t mean to boast, but it’s because of him that I have become the dancer that I am today.”

Memories suddenly flooded Eris’s vision, of his mother gliding across the empty ballroom floors with a young Eris on her hip. They spun and spun until Eris got dizzy and begged her to stop. And she laughed and continued dancing by herself. Eris, only five at the time, watched in amazement as she seemed to float around the room, somehow taking up all the space with lively movements and a radiant smile.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you have inherited that trait, as well,” she said quietly, the fire in her eyes starting to dim and return to those warm, brown eyes that Eris was once so familiar with. “If your grandfather could see you tonight, I know he’d be proud.”

She bowed her head briefly, and then turned on her heel, her skirts flying out around her. Eris stared at the spot she once stood for a moment longer, absorbing everything. Despite the raging emotions inside of him, her words had given him a slight reprieve.

Turning his attention back to the mirror, Eris slid the golden leafed diadem over his hair and let the flames alight in his eyes. He was ready.

Read part 2 here.

[a-casual-kpopfan]

CCDI-0401 : Chuu

A/N: Consider this as a thank you because recently I just hit 1500+ followers! Please enjoy!

“Do I really need to join you for this episode Jiwoo?” You ask your girlfriend Kim Jiwoo as she’s dragging you inside a studio for a shooting of ChuuCanDoit. “Yes oppa! Trust me, you’ll like this episode!” You roll your eyes as it’s late in the afternoon, you were really hoping to get some barbecue tonight.

As you enter the studio, you did notice that Jiwoo is wearing quite a long trench coat. It’s not raining and it’s not cold enough for this kind of attire, what could she be up to?

“Jiwoo-ah, what’s with the get up? Are you going to interrogate someone?” You chuckle as Jiwoo just looks back at you with her usual big smile. “It’s a surprise!” You didn’t know what to feel, whether to be terrified what might come next or feel excited.

“And we’re here!” Jiwoo pushes open the door leading to an open dance studio, but something has caught your eye. You would never imagine in a million years that this is what Jiwoo would be doing.

Pole dancing.

“Jiwoo, I thought this season is about… Exercising?” Jiwoo walks to the wall with a coat hanger and looks over at you with a smirk. “It is! A lot of core exercises!” Jiwoo then pulls off her coat exposing her body, wearing only a bright blue yoga short and a tight white Adidas tank top. Her pale skin is at its maximum exposure, you don’t even think Jiwoo is wearing a bra under the tank top.

“J-J-Jiwoo?” You were flabbergasted, astonished, and, shocked. You lost all thoughts, your mind came to a blank, lost as ever when Jiwoo started walking towards you. You watched as each step she took, the more her white, thick and milky thighs would jiggle, ever since leaving BBC and working out more for CCDI, Jiwoo has been looking much healthier, much tastier.

The closer she got, the better look you get. You can confirm that Jiwoo is definitely not wearing… Breast support as her cute little titties are bouncing freely underneath her top. Now being so fixated on her chest, you notice her nipples are started to erect do to being exposed to colder air than being warm underneath her jacket.

“Hey! My eyes are up here!” Jiwoo points to her eyes with one hand, then taking the tripod bag off you with her other hand, with of course her large smile. “What are you up to?” Jiwoo opens the bag to stand a tripod up and attaching a single camera that Jiwoo carried with her. “I told you, it’s to record a special episode of ChuuCanDoIt!”

You shrug as you take your jacket off and hang it up next to hers, then finding somewhere to sit but only to find there’s a single seat in the room and that’s generally behind the camera, the best view to watch Jiwoo as she can make eye contact with you.

Jiwoo walks over to the windows and undo the blinds, covering the view outside and to keep the following event inside for you and your eyes only. The one smiling and happy peach, the Jiwoo that the world knows as Chuu, has completely changed. “Time for our lesson.” Jiwoo slowly walks towards the pole with a smirk, keeping eye contact with you.

You swallowed all the saliva that was pooled in your mouth, ever so often you see Jiwoo act like this, and it never fails to make you salivate. “Now let’s get started on some of the basics. I saw this online while researching.” Jiwoo then grabs the pole a feet inches taller than her height, then slight hopping up for her leg to wrap around it so she could hold herself up.

“Oppa! Look! I’m on a pole!” Jiwoo giggles as she starts spinning herself around the pole. You couldn’t help yourself but chuckle at her excitement, but that changed like a flip of a switch. Jiwoo’s giggles have disappeared and became a focused although seductive glare. The now to be pole dancer has brought her other hand to the pole so now she’s fully faced at the pole.

You watch Jiwoo bring her other leg forward resulting in her leaning back, leaning quite back. Jiwoo’s back was facing you which in turn, the more she leans back, the more cleavage gets more exposed towards you. Jiwoo releases the pole from her leg’s grasp, and gently letting herself slip in towards the pole, making contact with the lips in between her thighs.

“Ahhh…”

The coldness of the pole has made contact making Jiwoo a smidge sensitive, while you also start becoming “sensitive.” Jiwoo tightens her grip around the pole with her thighs, her squeals grow louder the more she rubs herself around the pole.

You feel your pants starting to tighten up, oh how you want to pin Jiwoo to the floor right now and ruin her tight pussy, but instead you sat there quietly trying to hold yourself. “Wooo, I’m getting dizzy.” You can see Jiwoo loosen her grip around the pole in between her thighs, she starts sliding down, slowly.

Very slowly.

“Mmmmmm… Ahh…” You can see the pole where Jiwoo was holding herself to is glistening a little more than before. “Oo… It seems I glazed the pole…” You watched her slowly land on the floor; she slowly pulls one of her hands away to see that she’s touched the sticky residue. “Oh, it’s become sticky.” She says while spreading her fingers slowly to watch the residue spread in between.

“I wonder…” To your surprise, Jiwoo slips in her index finger in her mouth, sucking on it and making a small popping noise once she pulls out of her mouth. “That was good, do you want to see me try more?” Jiwoo directs her eyes towards you with a little smirk, while her finger is being slightly bitten between her teeth.

You nod your head to let Jiwoo know that you want her to continue, and so, she does. “I need more flavour.” Jiwoo then brings her hand down to an emerging wet spot of her shorts, she moans at the slightest touch from herself, if it were you, she would be on the table already getting her ass blasted.

Jiwoo digs in a little, trying to scoop up more of the juices out of her now juicing pussy. “Ahhh... I hope I’m getting a lot…” Jiwoo then sucks on her middle and ring fingers, as those were the main fingers she used. You then started biting your bottom lip, getting quite anxious as you don’t know if you can pull your pants down and start stroking.

“Are you getting horny oppa?” Jiwoo then lays back on the floor, raising both her knees up, feet planted on the floor. “Take off your pants.” Jiwoo commands you before she started massaging her small breast through that thin tank top she decided to wear today, you guess that’s why Jiwoo isn’t wearing a bra.

Convenience.

With question or retorts, you pull your pants and underwear together in one go, flinging your manhood out in the brisk air of the room. “Aw, yeah… That’s right…” Jiwoo proceeds to lift her shirt up, exposing one of her boobs, all for the camera in front to record. “Start stroking.” Her wish is your command.

You started stroking for the amusement of Jiwoo. The once innocent peach has changed to one that’s beginning to ripen and squirt it’s juices out, all for you to watch. The now horned up peach laying on the floor, is pinching her bare nipple, slowly rubbing her clothed folds along the pole that she’s still very much attached to.

Jiwoo’s moans grow stronger as she continued watching you stroke yourself, every minute or see to tell you to do it either faster or slower. You can see from her strokes along the pole is getting stronger, deeper even.

“Fuck… Ah… Oppa, you look so- Ha- Hot…” Jiwoo adds her free hand, rubbing her clit still outside of her shorts, it has come to your attention she isn’t wearing underwear either. “Ah, yes! Yes! There!” Jiwoo stimulating herself from her clit and the pole at the same time, pinching her nipple harder than ever.

And in one loud scream, the small wet stain in between her thighs has now made her short in a giant piece of wet fabric. “Ah fuck… That was… Great…” Jiwoo’s body now rests on the floor with her lower half in a pool of her liquids. You were still hard as a rock, stroking yourself to the mess on the floor.

“I don’t think that was- Ha- Enough for an episode.” Jiwoo catches her breathe for a moment before sitting up, moving away from the pole for a second. “Let’s make this easier now.” She stands up, grabbing the hem of her shorts to only pull them down and get thrown to the side. “It’s laundry day anyways.”

You watched the shorts hit the floor; a loud wet slap was all that was heard from the drenched pair of shorts. You move your sights back to Jiwoo who’s now on all fours, moving back up into the pole. “Is she really going back to masturbating on the pole?” Is what you thought before her now expose pussy lips make contact with the assuming cold metal.

You watch Jiwoo bring her peach up in the air, the folds in between her legs, her thighs, envelop part of the pole. There were signs of hunger in her that you never seen before, a level of horniess that never had been reached before, a whole new version of Jiwoo that no one outside of you would never ever see.

Jiwoo’s face falls on the floor, pleasure can be seen from the expressions on her face, she’s enjoying this just as much as you are. Her face turns into a beet red, you can feel the room warming up with all the heat coming off of Jiwoo. You continue stroking for Jiwoo to watch as she started to stimulate her clit while feeling herself onto the pole and the other hand grabbing her left breast, massaging it and rubbing her nipples.

“Oh, fuck Wooming.”

You felt a sudden urge in yourself watching Jiwoo make herself in a hot fucking mess on the floor, but you felt like something was missing. “What’s wrong oppa?” Jiwoo stopped her actions, slowly moving away from the pole. You were confused why she’s stopped, but Jiwoo slowly approaches you on all fours with a smirk on her face.

“I bet you need help, you can’t do it by yourself.” Jiwoo’s voice was low, stimulating and in a sultry tone that you don’t hear so often. “Does baby need help?” She asks as she crawls in front of you, now her arms on top of your lap, resting her head on her arms as she stares and holds onto your cock.

“It looks so good… It feels so hard… I wonder how it’ll feel inside me.” Jiwoo’s expression changed from wondering to a large smile. “Tell me, does baby need help?” She begins to stroke your cock for you, waiting for your reply. “I need help Wooming.” But she doesn’t do anything, just continuing slowly, long strokes. “What was that?”

“Baby needs help.”

And with that, Jiwoo acts. She straightens herself up and places both hands on each of your thighs, leaning closer to your crotch, kissing your little head then spitting on it. “Let me take care of baby.” A smirk is seen on her face while she rubs her mouth made lubricant around your forever erected cock, but that smirk goes away in a snap of a finger due to Jiwoo swallowing up your piece in her mouth.

Your moan reaches an all time high, never had Jiwoo ever deep throated you before. It turns you on harder and harder hearing Jiwoo gagging due to you inside of her mouth, in a moment she pulls out to take a breath but goes immediately back in, sucking you off the best she can. Her tongue making laps around and around the tip of the head.

Her hand jerking you off while you’re still inside her mouth. You felt a sensation coming, a familiar feeling, you were going to bust.

“Jiwoo! I’m going to-”

Jiwoo stops and let’s go, stopping the process of the nut. “What the fuck!? Jiwoo, why?!” You were mad, confused, you felt like you got the biggest blue ball ever until…

Jiwoo is back on all fours, ass facing you and a pleading face looking back at you.

“Can baby fuck me?”

[cafeinthemoon]

Unexpected Changes - Part II

Chapter 2/2

Wordcount 3,1k

Title Part II

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades X reader

Previous chapter

1

Symbols ✔ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none, just comedy and family fluff!

Tagging: ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment here or send an ask or a message)

You and Hades stared at each other, then at the man on the chair, waiting for an explanation, which he gave to you after a deep sigh.

– I can’t believe this was your first idea, Hades-san. We just need to look at y/n-san to see that she’s not cursed. Even less sick – and, turning to you, – I’d even say she’s healthier than the previous times I’ve seen her.

While Hades was trying to process the intriguing response from the other god, you sensed a bubbling in your stomach, but that time it had nothing to do with nausea: you were aware that you’ve been quiet for too long, and though you were still afraid, you knew that if you didn’t speak for yourself, this confusion would never end.

You gathered all your courage and opened your mouth.

– But, Beelzebub-sama… – you startled when Beelzebub’s eyes stopped on you, but didn’t give up – These changes I’ve sensed are not product of my imagination. I’m really experiencing alterations in my sleeping and eating schedule, and there’s no apparent reason for them. And, to use Poseidon-sama’s words, it’s like something is stealing my energies, forcing my body to restock them. What kind of thing would cause this if not a curse or sickness?

The Lord of the Flies’ response was to turn to a drawer beside his table, at his leg’s height, and take two small objects out of it: when he turned back to you, you saw he had a medical needle and a tiny strap in hands.

Without the slightest sign of impatience, he stood up and approached you. You had to fight the impulse of stepping back when he stopped before you. Hades was following everything, but made no effort to interrupt – this was his level of trust in that man, then.

– Y/n-san, can you show me one finger? – Beelzebub raised the hand holding the needle – There’s something I want to show to both of you, but I need a blood sample first.

You had no idea of what he intended to show, but if it was going to solve this mystery, you’d accept his methods. You gave him a hesitant hand.

– It’s not going to hurt – he held your index finger and pressed the tip of the needle on it – Just some drops are enough.

Indeed, the procedure was so fast that you didn’t have the time to feel the sting. When the needle came out from your skin, your fingertip was left with a small, red dot on the pierced spot; you rubbed it and confirmed the absence of pain.

Hades and you observed in silence as Beelzebub took the collected material to the table and gathered a small test tube and some strange substances from bottles he kept inside a drawer in desk on the other side of the room. He came back with two or three colored flasks, moistened the strap with your blood, then put it inside the tube and started mixing the substances in it with the help of a thin, disposable stick.

He was so concentrated in this task that he didn’t notice the growing tension provoked by the questions he made while working.

– You didn’t say anything about it, y/n-san, but you’ve probably been experiencing other symptoms besides the ones you just described, right?

– Ah… yes – you stuttered.

– And does these symptoms include hypersensitivity to physical and mental stimulation?

– I… Yes, I think.

– And then, sensations of dizziness, nausea and occasional vomit?

You glanced at your husband, who already had a pair of worried eyes on you, and confirmed this supposition too.

– Let me guess – Beelzebub continued, without raising his eyes from the tube – They use to happen in the mornings?

Again, a positive answer. When Hades inquired you about this, you explained that it’s been happening long after he left the room.

– I would go back to bed and stay there until all the discomfort disappear from my stomach. Sometimes, I’d end up sleeping again, but most of the times I’d able to leave the room and carry on with my day.

– I see – he deliberated – And is this everything? Isn’t there other things causing you discomfort apart from what you said?

– No, I swear.

Your husband made no other questions, but you knew he was disappointed just by looking into his eyes. You tried not to think too much about it, for you would have time to discuss it later, in private. And, to be honest, you were disappointed with yourself too, which only made things worse.

An effervescent sound coming from Belzeebub’s table interrupted your thoughts. When you turned to it, saw him standing up and approaching you again to show you the results of the experiment. Now, the mixture inside the test tube has changed into a glowing, violet shade, with a lilac foam on its surface.

The scientist-god raised the tube at his eyes height, with a discreet smile of triumph. You always thought he had nothing but seriousness in him, but there he was, not hiding his diversion with all of this.

Now, Hades seemed more anxious about it than yourself, his eyes glued on the substance as if it contained your fate – which, in a certain way, it did.

– Well, I already knew it, but having a proof is always better – Beelzebub shook the fluid inside the tube, admiring the variations in its color.

– So… what does this proof mean? – your husband inquired.

– Beelzebub-sama… – you mumbled with your fingers crossed – Please, tell us…

Beelzebub took the tube out of his sight, as to gather your attention to what he was about to announce.

– Y/n-san, there’s really no curse over you. Instead, what you have here might be called a blessing for many couples – his black eyes calmly alternated between you two as he spoke – This purple shade you’re seeing represents a hormonal change you’ve been experiencing for at least three weeks, which is the responsible for all the symptoms. To summarize, within a few months, your family is going to grow.

Both you and Hades held your breath with the news. You turned to your husband and found him staring at you in ecstatic silence, in a way you’ve only seen in the most important occasions of your life together: when he proposed to you, when you arrived at the Underworld with him and when you had your first night. He was the first of you to bring up the possibility of parenting, but you thought you should wait until your bonds were strong enough to succeed in such task; it’s been a few decades since you talked about it, but you knew Hades never forgot the idea.

And now it was a reality. And you were, above all, scared.

– I’m… I’m expecting?! – you put your hands on your belly and turned back to Beelzebub, who has been observing you in silence – We’re going to have a baby?!

– Yes – he replied, unfazed – I’m really surprised that you had no suspicions until this moment, y/n-san. As far as I know, these are the basic symptoms of the human pregnancy.

You shrugged in embarrassment.

– Yes, I know, but… I supposed it would be different now that I’m no longer human… I never really thought about it.

The Lord of the Flies went back to the table and left the test tub upon it.

– You’re a deity with a female, humanoid physical constitution, y/n-san – he commented – No great changes should be expected in your conception process… or so I believe.

Your heart jumped inside your chest with those words.

– What… do you mean, Beelzebub-sama?

The man turned to you with an enigmatic smile that would feel less creepy if you saw it in someone else’s face.

– Well, you know, there are so many curious cases of conception in your pantheon. Aphrodite, Athena, Nyx, you name them. If you have some time, we can discuss the most exotic ones…

– No, thank you! – you raised your hands in a desperate refusal, not wanting to hear the entire invitation – I’m really grateful for your gentleness in receiving us, but I don’t want to take much more of your time, Beelzebub-sama – and, turning to your husband, – I think we should go back home and leave him free to work on his projects, my dear.

Hades had a smile on his lips that didn’t hide how much fun he had watching this interaction between you two, an extra reward after the astonishing news.

– Can you, please, stop scaring my wife, Beelzebub? – and, passing his around your shoulder, – As she stated, we’re grateful for your help, but it’s time to go. We have much work to do.

The Lord of the Flies returned to his chair, possibly to continue the studies in which he was engaged before you arrived.

– It’s a shame that we have to separate so soon, but you do as you prefer – he shrugged, still in that calm, good mood – If you need anything or if any curious symptom appears – he stared directly at you, – I’ll be right here.

You swallowed, but it was embarrassment that took you over instead of fear. Beelzebub was aware of your feelings towards him.

And guess you were lucky that he chose to have fun with this.

***

You’ve been standing before that porch for a while. Your legs would probably ache later, but you weren’t worried: now that you had a solid answer for most of those weird things your body has been doing, none of them scared you as an unsolvable problem anymore. Besides, you were now receiving the necessary assistance, not having to deal with anything all by yourself, and it has been good.

You were distracting your eyes and thoughts observing the Underworld’s landscape, a combination of empty fields and mountains of impossible size if compared to the ones of Midgard. Ahead and above, there were the expanded heights you used to call the sky, with heavy, reddish clouds that rarely brought rain; however, the wet wind that carried them that evening seemed to indicate an exception.

The way things turned out was still hard to assimilate. Just one day ago, you were scared and confused, until Beelzebub showed you the result of the test; now, you were there, in peace, trying to make amends with reality.

After all those years of marriage, you were carrying a child at last. You were going to be a mother for the first time.

– You’re going to get tired if you stay on your feet for too long, little one.

Hades’ voice brought you back to this plane. You turned to the porch’s entry and found him approaching your spot with slow, unworried steps: the ultimate sign that he has finally finished the works of the day and wouldn’t leave his chambers until tomorrow.

He stopped behind you and surrounded your body with his arms, pulling you to a warm embrace as his lips kissed your head.

– I’d get tired if I’d be forced to stay in bed all day – you replied with a smile – Besides, I was about to go back inside. It looks like it’s going to rain.

– Hmmm…

You didn’t went back to your room right after saying that: as long as the said rain wouldn’t reach the castle’s territory, you would take those precious moments in the company of each other, if not talking, enjoying your silence.

– This porch is still your favorite spot here, right? – your husband mumbled in your ear.

– Yes – you sighed – Why are you recalling this now?

– I was just remembering the first time you came here, right on the day you came to Hellheim – you felt his fingers curling the locks of your hair as he spoke – You said the view from here, which reminded you of a twilight, was the closest thing to Midgard you saw since you entered this plane. Then, you started to spent all your free time here.

You chuckled.

– You still remember that.

– Of course I do – and, with a pensive tone, – You know, I just couldn’t understand it at first. I always thought the lights of the castle were enough to simulate a natural day, so when you told me these dark skies made you feel closer to your homeland than them, it sounded absurd. It was when I realized that, because in Midgard you have your own sun, all life is connected to it through a sacred, unreplaceable bond, so that any artificial light would be just a poor excuse for them.

You turned to him, hiding your face on his chest.

– I don’t blame you for this, dear. There was one time when you said that you’ve had ages to get used to Hellheim’s darkness, so it was only natural that you wouldn’t realize it right at the beginning. I understand that.

– I know – Hades tightened the hug around you, as to apologize for this little mistake of long ago – But I cannot forget this. It’s my reminder that I have to stop and listen to you more attentively. If I have done this in this last case, all the uneasiness of the last days would have been avoided.

– Maybe yes, maybe not – you reciprocated the hug as warmly as you could – I don’t think we could ever know. Besides, I have my part on the responsibility in this too. If I didn’t act so hesitant and just spoke when I had to, things could have been solved in an easier way. I should have talked to you when all of this began. But I was so scared…

Right when your voice cracked and you thought you were going to cry, you felt a long, soft kiss on the top of your head as a response.

– Are you still afraid now, little one? – and, after you shook your head negatively, – Hmmm… that’s good to know…

Yes, it was really good. All your reasons to be afraid were left in the past, so now your thoughts could be entirely in the future, in the child you were going to bring to this world – not only a child, but a new deity. About this you had many questions, many worries, of course, but one thing you were sure: if your husband and you kept committed – you in speaking out and Hades in listening – nothing will be impossible.

You looked again at the horizon and noticed the clouds were near.

– We should go back inside now…

You separated from Hades and were going to enter your chambers, when a grip on your wrist stopped you midway.

– Oh, what hap… Hey!

After pulling you close to him again, your husband took you in his arms and started carrying you inside.

– Do you know what I’m thinking? – he started – Time will pass soon... Our baby will be here with us when we least expect.

You laughed.

– That’s true. And, when it happens, I want to present this view to them and make this their favorite spot as well…

– It’s an excellent idea, dear – he kissed your temple and tightened the grip around you – However… don’t you think this porch is too large for them alone?

– Well – you shrugged – It’s too large for me too…

You stopped deliberating once you raised your eyes to his face and saw the smirk on it. It wasn’t difficult to guess what he had in mind.

– Since they’ll not take too long to arrive – he leaned closer to you, whispering – We can start thinking about bringing their siblings to this porch right now.

You looked at the King of the Underworld with a mixture of desperation and diversion.

– Hades, you…! Don’t you ever bring this up again until our baby comes!

Hades laughed as you passed together through the porch’s entry.

– Sorry for hurrying things up, little one! I forgot we have all the time in the world for this!

***

The news about your pregnancy didn’t take long to spread among the Greek pantheon, and then to the other ones, and the messages of good luck, blessings and congratulations wouldn’t stop arriving, keeping Hellheim’s servants occupied for a good amount of time.

Surprising even his elder brother, Poseidon-sama was one of the first to send his regards, alongside a beautiful, golden shell he said he personally collected in his domain, explaining that it’s a traditional gift sent to the children born to the people of the seas. You loved the gift, of course, and wanted to make your gratitude known as soon as you could, so Hades didn’t take long to prepare a message.

By that time, the divine council has ended and the King of the Seas was already back to his castle. He was at the throne room as usual when the said message was delivered to him through the hands of his loyal servant, Protheus.

– Hades-sama and his wife, y/n-sama, sent this package to you, my Lord, as a thanks for the gift you sent in honor of their child – he knelt and raised the message with both hands to his master’s reach.

Poseidon found it strange that a simple reply should come in the form of a rectangular package, wrapped in golden paper. He released Protheus and waited until he left the room to unwrap the strange object.

His servant, now a few steps away on the corridor, would later be glad for being dispensed before the message’s content was figured out by his master, for the response it provoked came in a sway of the Tyrant’s trident, followed by a furious thud of its base on the castle’s floor that certainly caused a seaquake somewhere in the lands above.

It happened that, alongside the polite, warm handwritten message you sent, Hades included his own response in a small paper note that only said “Enjoy your reading” (which he had no need to sign, because Poseidon was more than used to his calligraphy), and under the enigmatic note an old book was found, one that was taken from Beelzebub’s library and about which he barely remembered. The book’s title, almost erased by time, was still visible and was seen by many servants that entered the room to take care of their tasks without understanding why it caused such reaction in their King.

Principles of the Effective Accursement and How to Spot Them – An Ultimate Guide.

[the-knaves-world]

Dark Paradise Lilia x reader

We're just going to pretend you can sleep while using silvers UM, ok?

Spoilers for book 7, angst? If you have a fear of water, darkness or being in a wide open but empty space.

Inspired by Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey, I have sappy stuff coming up soon, just had to write this one down before it floated away from me.

Silver says not to succumb to your dreams....

While the forest is quiet, the Briar Valley soldiers of Lilia's unit watch over the small group.

Lilia watches one human in particular. There you sat, in front of the campfire, warming up your hands that had gone cold a fair while ago.

Lilia tilts his head as he sees the tiredness in your features. He had often wondered if you ever really stopped to rest for yourself. According to Silver, you were always busy with things back at Nightraven College. Lilia could only sigh as he noticed your eyes droop a little.

Lilia stood and strode over to your lethargic form, clicking his tongue as he grabs hold of your wrist as gently as he can. Lilia pulls you up to guide you back from the fire and to a safer distance so that, when you inevitably fall asleep, the forest won't smell like roasted human.

~a little bit later~

Kisses trailed down bared necks and shoulders, gracing chests that heave with gasping breath. The sound of murmured words of desire and love. The feel of lithe fingers gripping your hips and the drag of hips chasing a heady passion.

These sensations haunt your dreams. The flashes of black hair with pretty pink streaks and a fanged smirk that makes your heart beat faster and your voice croak out muted whimpers.

Raspberry red eyes that shine with love and care that have been rather absent in your waking life as of late. A low chuckle with the promise of sweet release and being cared for as you float above the highest of clouds.

Sometimes, when you daydream, you think you feel that familiar loving caress that grounds you when you woke up after an after class nap. When you shake off the daydream haze, however, all you find is a crimson gaze that feels like it's observing a rat in a maze.

But when you slip into slumber, on the rare chances you get while traveling in Lilia's dream, you get to indulge in your Lilia's touch and soothing whispers of love and desire once more.

You missed the feel of his touch and the sound of his laughter. The looks you would give one another when you found something funny and would turn to the other to see if they found it funny as well.

The dream tonight, however, was one that you had feared happening in reality...a nightmare indeed.

In the Diasomnia common room

"My Dove, you've worked so hard. Rest now, you needn't strain yourself any longer. It's over now."

Lilia cannot even gather enough strength to reach up to hold the back of your head, which lays on his chest.

"You can't leave me like this! We did everything we were supposed to! We saved Malleus and stopped the blot....you weren't supposed to run out of time so soon, you still...you still had a few decades..."

You sob as you clutch his body with shaking limbs. His skin was colder than usual, his skin more ashen than it's normal palor.

As your dream scene fades out, you feel yourself being rocked gently...what was that? Water?

The feel of water rocking you as you float along it's surface waves, the moon above you is cresent shaped and unnaturally bright.

Looking around you notice that the beach is a ways out from where you are in the water. The moonlight shines a serene glow over the waves of the ocean.

You look back to the beach to notice Lilia standing where the sand meets the oceans lapping waves. He looks healthier than the last time you saw him...he extends a hand, almost as if he is beckoning you to shore.

Even though you try, you cannot seem to move. The waves only seem to pull you further away from him. He grows smaller in the distance as the beach starts to disappear from view.

The last thing you hear is a soft, peaceful:

"It isn't time for us to meet again yet, my dove. Off you go."

The Cresent moon shimmers and shines but is soon swallowed by the darkness of the sky and the waves soon pull you under as you cry out for your fae lover.

~~

You startle awake, gasping for air as you look around frantically, seemingly searching for something.

As you gasp for breath, you hear footsteps approach and soon feel a gloved hand grab your chin and turn you to look up and to your left.

"What happened, human?"

That voice, that holds the same tone as it does in the waking world, grumbles as the owner notices the tracks of tears down your cheeks.

Rough, gloved hands try their best to gently wipe tears away. A sigh escapes the man as he looks over your shaken form.

"Must've been bad, for you to be crying and shaking like that."

His tone isn't mocking or spiteful, but rather quiet. He sits down next to you as he looks around the forest, whether to keep watch or to avoid any eye contact, you don't quite know.

You feel something land on your shoulders, something warm. Pulling it over your shoulders and getting a look, you notice it's Silvers uniform jacket. Looking over to Lilia questioningly, he answers gruffly.

"That human boy put it over you while you slept. You looked cold, I don't need a human getting sick and slowing us down."

You nod and look up to see the moon shine in a Cresent phase. But the sky doesn't look as black as the one in your dream did.

Silence passes as the others continue resting, Lilia's troops do their jobs as Baul looks around the area for food. Things are quiet for once. The quiet is something you have come to despise recently.

The world was too quiet without his laughter and his quips about random things. Life should never be this quiet. You just hope that, when this is all over, your world won't have gone quiet forever....

[welightitup]

your wish is my command, so:

piarles prompt: charles noticing how much healthier and happier pierre looks in alpine ❤️💙

Hi Katie ❤️💙

Thank you for sending me this as a prompt on here - and for the corresponding gifs 🥰 They helped me stay focused, truly hehe. I hope this is kinda what you were looking for (I can't remember what we discussed really but I think this was the jist of it :P)

---

Winter break is meant to be the time where they can let go for a little while and just be themselves. They spend time with their friends and family, celebrate the holidays with loved ones, and fit in a bit of extreme training. At least in Charles and Pierre’s cases, even if one heads to the heat and the other to the cold.

But with winter testing only two weeks away, it's time for them to reluctantly get back into their regular training schedule. And that includes their diets, working out, and - as Charles stands in front of his bathroom mirror - grooming.

Not that it's essential in the grand scheme of things, but he likes a routine and it’s easier to follow something that pays off in the long run. Such as shaving off his winter stubble which will irritate the hell out of him once he’s pulled on his balaclava in the desert heat.

He’s taking the razor very carefully down his jawline when a pair of arms slip around his waist, warm and slightly damp from the shower.

“Why are you shaving?” Pierre asks, sounding almost offended.

“I have to. You know I get annoyed, and then you get annoyed that I’m annoyed,” Charles reminds him. It’s a predictable event; the sweat from the heat will irritate his skin, which will lead him to scratch endlessly at his face, leaving him with red marks and an eventual breakout of spots. Throughout it all, he will complain loudly about it to Pierre.

Who’s answer is always to “just shave”, in complete contrast to today.

“But you’re keeping the rest of it?” Pierre checks as he noses gently at Charles’ bare shoulder, droplets of water that had previously been clinging to his hair falling onto his dry skin and working its way down his chest until it meets the towel around his hips.

“For now,” Charles replies, huffing when he tries to tilt his head only to bump into Pierre’s. Knowing telling him to move would only keep him there longer, Charles sighs instead and lowers his arm to gaze at the reflection of the top of Pierre’s head in the mirror. “What about you?”

Pierre rubs his cheek playfully against Charles’ neck, the rough hair of his beard ticklish and eliciting a giggle out of him at the action. There will be a questionable mark there once he’s dressed, but given the nature of their relationship, Charles is sure this is probably the most innocent reason for it.

That is until Pierre starts to press kisses to the column of his neck before nuzzling in. Usually, the sweet gesture would warm Charles, but recently he has learnt that Pierre does it a moment before he carefully bites at his skin, nipping until the bruise forms within the beard - and the newly formed moustache - burn.

“Stop!” Charles tries to chastise, only to come out with a bubble of laughter instead. He feels Pierre laugh against his shoulder as he slowly retreats, keeping his lips pressed against Charles’ skin even as he peers up with his striking blue eyes to catch his own through the mirror.

“Hmm, I think I’ll keep it,” Pierre eventually answers his question. Charles raises his eyebrows without thinking, surprised at his words. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Charles quickly replies, schooling his features to look more neutral with a softer smile. 

It’s not that Charles has anything against the moustache that Pierre now sports, a new addition that Charles only got to see with his own two eyes after they had returned from their independent winter training. But rather the fact that Pierre has chosen to grow one now, the moment he is free of AlphaTauri and Red Bull, when he has failed to do so in the entire time they have known each other.

Which, Charles knows Pierre would deny if ever asked, he can now tell were directly related. It isn’t a secret how much of a toll driving for either team had taken on Pierre, physically and mentally. If it wasn’t the subpar car, then it was the borderline abusive treatment in the top team, and the absolute disregard to his health.

So, regardless of Charles’ personal thoughts about Pierre’s new found ability to grow even more hair, the reason behind it is what reassures him that moving to Alpine will benefit more than just Pierre’s career, and that’s enough reason for it to stay.

Well, that and the way Alpine and its owner and Team Principal seem to absolutely adore Pierre, and have put him at ease, making the transfer as seamless as possible. 

Not to mention the new personal coach who no longer keeps Pierre on the strictest diet Charles had ever seen, or insists on the horrid glucose monitor that had started endless fights between the two of them.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts to focus on the present instead, Charles shrugs instead and laughs when the movement unsettles Pierre from his position. “It’s just different, that’s all.”

“You like it though,” Pierre states confidently. Charles rolls his eyes even though his words do actually ring true.

“I like you,” Charles retorts, avoiding the question and further inflating his boyfriend’s ego. The internet has already done wonders for it as it is without him having to add to it. “The extra facial hair is just a bonus.”

“Uh-huh,” Pierre merely hums, smirking. He steps out from behind Charles and to his side, running a hand over his chin and tapping at his mouth dramatically for a second. “I like it. I’m going to keep it.”

“Okay. As long as you’re happy,” Charles tells him earnestly, because at the end of that day, that is all he ever wants for him.

“I am very happy. And I will be even happier once we go get some lunch,” Pierre tells him. The mere mention of food after the gym session they had had that morning is enough to set Charles’ stomach rumbling almost instantly.

Charles raises his razor once again, intent on finishing up with his shaving before he forgets and heads out with an asymmetrical look that will somehow end up on social media in seconds. 

“You still want to go to the café by Maman’s salon?” It’s a small shop with a limited menu, but they have been going there since they were kids who were rarely allowed to be left alone for more than 15 minutes at a time.

“Yes, always,” Pierre says before pressing a soft kiss to his already-shaven cheek.  “I am starving. Hurry up, okay?”

Grinning, Charles nods. “Okay. Two more minutes.”

---

It's barely hitting midnight but they’re already in bed, intent on adjusting their circadian rhythm to match their on-season schedules, and not stay up until 4am out partying. Or playing Call of Duty. Or having sex. 

They hadn’t had much of a busy day outside of their morning gym session and dinner with his family, which is likely the reason why Charles is still laying awake whilst Pierre has already succumbed to sleep. It is usually the other way around, with Pierre spending the time before bed catching up with his social media or text messages whereas Charles is asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.

At least it gives him the chance to take Pierre in as he sleeps; an opportunity he rarely gets.

Twisting into his side, Charles mirrors Pierre’s position so he can see him better. 

He looks peaceful, is the first thought that comes to Charles’ mind. Brow smooth, eyelids still, and the ghost of a smile curving at his lips. It is a far cry from the uneasy restlessness and nightmares Charles has witnessed over the years. The days of insomnia, the dark eye circles, and the endless number of fitful nights when sleep finally did come. 

Reaching out, Charles skims his fingertips over the side of Pierre’s face, just allowing the grown hairs to prickle at his touch. Pierre’s nose scrunches up adorably at the action, and Charles grins at the instant reaction. 

Trailing his finger down Pierre’s nose instead, he watches as it twitches slightly before smoothing out. He nuzzles gently into his pillow, lips parting in a soft sigh as he does so. 

Charles can’t help but to shift closer, moving his hand down as he minimises the space between them. Brushing over Pierre’s shoulder, Charles once again breathes a sigh of relief when his exploratory touch doesn’t find the foreign, plastic circle that had become a reluctantly familiar protrusion pressing into his palm whenever Charles had reached out for Pierre by the bicep. It had even gotten to the point where he would actively avoid grabbing at his upper arms, unknown as to which would be wearing the glucose monitor, and knowing he could never adjust his response to finding it quick enough for Pierre to not see. 

Subconsciously having started to dig his fingers into Pierre’s arm at the memory, gripping onto him as if to keep this version with him - the relaxed, happier, healthier version - even though there is no current threat to take him away from him, Charles isn’t surprised when Pierre starts to stir. 

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he murmurs, rubbing his hand along the length of his arm and eventually landing on his chest. He can feel rather than see Pierre inhale deeply; a sure sign that he is more on this side of awake than not. 

“Why are you feeling me up?” Pierre asks, slurring slightly with the fog of sleepiness, and yet still managing to insert a hint of humour to his words. 

Scowling though he is sure Pierre cannot make it out through his heavy blinks, Charles scoffs and shoves him in the chest. “I am not! Shut up and go back to sleep.”

“No, no. I’m awake now,” Pierre says, a smirk tugging at his lips when his eyes finally meet Charles’ in the dimness of the bedroom. “What were you doing?”

“Cuddling you,” Charles lies, making a show to grab at Pierre’s wrist to lift his arm and place it over his own waist to cover up. 

“Hmm, okay,” Pierre hums, unconvinced but playful. He leaves his arm where it now lays but allows his hand to wander slowly south until Charles raises an eyebrow at his obvious move.

“Now who’s feeling who up?” Charles asks dryly, huffing when Pierre merely uses the hand that is now resting on his ass to pull him further into him.

Pierre copies his actions and raises his own eyebrow at him. “You want me to stop? It doesn’t feel like you do,” he says pointedly before shifting his hips exaggeratedly to emphasise Charles’ natural bodily reaction to Pierre’s crudely sensuous touch.

Trying to bite back the smile that threatens to break out on his face, Charles settles for a glare that carries no heat whatsoever and only lasts for a couple of seconds before breaking. He’s never been able to resist Pierre’s advances, and especially not whilst he is smirking at him with one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched.

“I love you,” Charles says in between silent giggles, pressing his forehead against Pierre’s, who laughs softly at his confession.

“Wow, I haven’t even done anything yet,” Pierre teases, laughing harder when Charles groans and tries to roll away.

“You’re the worst, Pierre. I’m telling you I love you and you just laugh at me,” Charles grumbles half-heartedly, not even fighting Pierre when he keeps him in place.

“I love you, too,” Pierre replies placatingly, before adding, “And I always laugh at you.”

Sighing, Charles settles back into his pillow and observes Pierre closely. “You laugh a lot more nowadays,” he notes lightly.

Pierre nods, the smirk transforming into a gentle smile instead. “Things are a lot better now.”

“A lot lighter, yes? Freeing?” Charles checks.

“A lot brighter,” Pierre assures him with a gentle squeeze around the waist. 

Charles is under no impression that Pierre doesn't understand how much it means to him to see him do so much better now he has officially left Red Bull clutches. He doesn’t need to say the words for him to know how important of a factor the move to Alpine has been in the overall scheme of things.

“Good. It will be a good year for you, I can tell,” Charles informs Pierre, leaving no room for argument with his adamant tone. It brings out another bout of silent laughter from Pierre.

“You can, can you?” Pierre asks suggestively, shifting to lean up ever-so-slightly onto his elbow and hover over Charles. He slips a leg between Charles’, brushing his toes against the sole of his foot that makes him squirm more from the tickles than the intimate position they’re in. “Can you tell what’s going to happen to me now?”

“You will crawl under the covers and push me onto my back,” Charles states confidently even in his breathless voice.

“Sounds more like a demand than a prediction,” Pierre laughs but follows through nonetheless, using his weight to slowly roll Charles onto his back. “You’re right though. I am.”

Charles grins self-satisfyingly into the dark as Pierre crawls down his body and slowly disappears under the sheets, his own smirk stuck in place. 

“I’m always right,” Charles says smugly before all words are stolen out of his mouth by Pierre’s own skillful one.

[karolamurdock]

SpiderWoman 2099 Pt.3

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!Reader

Sinopsis: The year is 2106. By day, you work as the head of the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology division at Alchemax. By night, you are the one and only Spider-Woman, fighting tirelessly to protect New York from the tyrannical clutches of crime and delinquency. Your days are spent in an ordinary, organized routine: it's just you, the only barrier between your city and oblivion, dealing with the violence and pain that comes with being a superhero.

Everything is just normal. Then your dead husband appears in front of you, talking about alternate universes, spider societies and canonical disasters, and you discover that all your sorrows, losses and failures were possibly always meant to happen.

What the fuck.

Notes: It has been a regrettably long time. Not much Miguel in this chapter, but the next one should make up for it ;) This chapter has not been edited.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, mild violence, subtle references to depression and self-harm. Read with caution. As always, english is not my first lenguague.

Word count: 3.5K

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

You asked him for time.

Distantly, you noticed his searching gaze. Your eyes scanned every monitor, every screen, every door, window and vent, and you contrasted the image with the memory of your own office. Same proportions, same subdued light. Different set-up.  You had no platform in the air. 

You clenched your teeth and soon your mask was back in place. You saw him purse his lips; the brown skin of his Adam's apple quiver as if preparing a retort, but you turned away and asked him for a portal to your dimension before he had time to regain his wits. 

Your nerves itched. Your mouth felt furry. Your head, full of cotton. If you didn't leave this anomalous office quickly, you'd end up tearing your hair out with your claws. You could already feel your fangs nipping at the tender skin of your lower lip. As if you could change the composition of your venom, making you vulnerable to its hypnotic effects. 

"I'll be back in 3 days. Take some time to think about what we talked about." He finally said. After a long static-laden silence.

As the man fiddled with the gizmo on his wrist, an image bled across your unfocused vision: you saw a healthier version of yourself, a gentler version of yourself, frivolously capturing his lips in a parting kiss. Sliding her hand over the spider on his chest, caressing his pulse beneath her clawless fingers, tracing his lips with her tongue and inhaling his scent. 

By the time the portal formed in front of your rigid form, your lips were dry and your eyes burned with the sting of pent-up tears. Your temples pulsed to the rhythm of your grief-stricken heart, and you resisted holding Miguel's intense gaze as you took a few experimental steps near the portal.

"Three days." He repeated. You nodded, silent, and finally looked at the blue skyline of your city. The tall buildings, with the incessant traffic and the train rising into the exosphere. 

Your city. Your home. 

Your responsibility. 

Then you took three steps backwards, ran towards the portal, threw your arms behind you, and fell swiftly into the new day of your own dimension.

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

To say that you only became a celebrity after your 'incident' is an understatement. After the doctors on the board had declared Stone as "mentally unstable" and he was removed from his position on the board, the company was looking for a new director. And it was not surprising that the board's eyes were on you. 

Under your leadership, your department had made impressive progress: from laudable milestones in gene editing in agriculture, to new advanced gene therapies, personalized and regenerative medicine, and even therapeutic cloning of cells and tissues on a much more accessible and effective scale. 

So you knew it was only a matter of time before you were appointed Director. Everyone knew it. You knew it. 

It was the morning after your atypical encounter with Spider-Man. Behind your dark glasses, your hands smoothing the edges of your white coat, you watched the crowd of young people milling about the isles and cubicles of the Molecular Genetics Lab. You approached with a practiced smile, catching the pleased expression on the tour guide's face before she turned to greet you properly. 

"Dr (L/N)." 

"Dr Rizik." You acknowledged, nodding in her direction.

"Welcome to Alchemax," you said, turning alternately to the enthusiastic crowd. The startled young people turned to you in surprise. 

"Dr (L/N) is the head of the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology Department here at Alchemax. She is one of the world's foremost authorities on bioengineering and gene therapy," Rizik said, and you smiled modestly before answering:

"You flatter me, Doctor. It is a real pleasure to see young, fresh minds joining our company." You replied, analyzing the expressions of varying astonishment on the new trainees' faces. "You will find that we have a variety of programmes and projects for you to participate in to develop your skills and inventiveness."

A hologram appeared over your shoulder, courtesy of your artificial multifunctional expert, MAX. 

"As I told you, Dr Rizik, who volunteered to give you this initial tour, is the head of the viral vector gene therapy section. Dr Mason is in charge of the CRISPR-Cas variant gene editing section, which has had great success in the past and is expanding its range of gene editing accuracy and efficiency every day."

You looked out the window of the room: a huge laboratory, swarming with white coats. "On the other hand, gene therapy without DNA cuts has become relevant because it has allowed us to modify bases directly, as well as to use epigenetic and RNA factor-based systems to make changes in gene expression without completely altering the genetic code."

You spun around, your short heels echoing down the immaculate corridor, and pointed to the hologram showing the rest of your department:

"Finally, the atom-based gene editing programme is back in operation, under the direction of Dr Pankratov. If any of you are interested in a particular programme, you can consult the relevant section heads."

The young men nodded in amazement, and Sylvie gave you a thumbs up from behind her graphics tablet. 

Then you said goodbye to the group. You quickly made your way upstairs to your office, which was on one of the top floors of the large complex. The door closed behind you and you leaned heavily against it as you dropped the facade and breathed deeply through your nose, feeling the air expand your lungs and fill the cool recesses of your limbs, then exhaled a hot breath that rasped roughly against the silence of your intimate space.

How easy it was to get back into the routine. Going back to work; interacting with people, getting on with the job. Practicing your smile. 

If you could stretch out time, like a flap of skin over a bleeding wound, borrowing relief that doesn't come of its own accord, maybe you could begin to heal. But... What does your happiness matter? There are so many other things in this world.

Someone had to do the work. 

You let out a shaky sigh and sat down to think about it. What if... it was all a lie, and this individual who so freely offered you such modest charity was merely perpetrating a perverse plot? 

For if it were a sham, if Miguel had slipped through your fingers like the smoke of an extinguished candle, such a so-called society would be years ahead of you.

With your heart beating against your ribs, you felt your pulse pounding beneath the fingers wrapped loosely around your neck. Your other hand held you upright against the door. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to regain the vision....

In your mind's eye you conceived his gizmo. A device capable of interdimensional travel. Compact enough to wrap around your wrist and tear the fabric of the universe as you knew it. 

Swinging slowly, you walked to the center of the room. MAX appeared over your shoulder. Crossing his arms over his three-piece red suit, he formed a holographic band in the air with a twist of his hands.

"You would need an extra-dimensional power generator." He said, perfectly in tune with your thoughts, and you nodded as you circled the holographic sketch with slow, deliberate steps.

A material... capable of producing or storing immense amounts of energy to achieve space-time manipulation.

"And we would need a portal-opening device capable of opening and maintaining stable interdimensional windows."

"Quantum nanomaterials." MAX stated.

And you nodded, distracting your thoughts from the analogous exchanges you once had with your husband. As you pointed out the obvious flaws in the sketch, your mind pictured the man's blurry silhouette; his brown hands, his long fingers, and the sweet song in his voice. 

"You'd have to start thinking about how to alloy this for controlled gravity." His voice was a whisper in your ear.

Gritting your teeth, you proposed it to MAX. He agreed, and you continued to discuss the hypothetical features of a portable inter-dimensional travel machine. 

It was late when your voice gave way to the painful lump in your throat. MAX blinked and his hands dropped to his hips as he watched you with a critical eye. 

"Do us both a favor and go home. We're not going to come up with any viable designs if you're not in top mental shape." 

You arched an eyebrow, sardonic, as if you hadn't spent the last half-decade calculating the lethal dose of your super-serum in your head, based on your weight and metabolism, every time you entered your lab.

The AI rolled its eyes and continued, ignoring your silent chutzpah:

"A proper mental form. Leave. I will continue to calculate the possible variations of the artifact."

You exhaled wearily. Arguing with MAX was pointless - perhaps because he was a product of your own programming? Anyway, you put your black glasses back on and grabbed your trench coat from the back of your chair.

"Take care of the design of the inter-dimensional navigation system. I'll think about how to resolve the fidelity of the space-time warping device."

MAX nodded, his hands flitting between holograms, intermittently opening tabs in the air. "Leave it to me. You go home and rest. After all, the one and only Spider-Woman needs to stay in shape to protect New York from doom."

You gave him a last look, turned your attention away into the growing night, and sighed to yourself. 

"Good night, MAX."

"Good night." He answered you in a softer voice.

As another day passed beneath the city's vast red skyline, the labs emptied. You politely bid farewell to your colleagues who, like you, were preparing to return home.

The one and only Spider-Woman, huh?

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

The truth is that you never wanted to be a hero. 

It wasn't even your intention at first. Dazed by your pain, in a state of initial grief drunkenness, your mind was clouded by your rage. The famous race to overthrow criminal minds began as a personal trial, in which you acted as judge, jury, and executioner, and you meted out the punishments your bleeding heart saw fit. 

You returned to your primitive flesh: you were a new creature, molding the Lionman of Stadel, immersing yourself in your unprecedented ability to grasp concepts of your own imagination alone. Imagining that these were no less than fictions; that there was room for justice in a bloody, physical world, and that it was not just a fictional tale accepted by the world collective. 

Under the same concept, you would later swing through the skyscrapers as a dark, hooded figure, listening to the cheers of the crowd that baptized you.

One by one, you took down each of the men involved in your husband's death. Beginning with Delgado, Stone, and Fortune. Then you took over the spread of rot in Alchemax, weaving through the light as a masked vigilante and slipping into the shadows as a leading scientist. It was the first time you were aware of your own ambivalence: how the dark vigilante would bleed into the crevices of the famous geneticist, your long claws hidden in the pockets of your white coat, and the threat of physical violence always underlying every shuffle of your feet. 

You were meticulous. With MAX's help, you were able to gather solid evidence that incriminated the scientists and agents still supporting Stone within the company. Meanwhile, you made a name for yourself: with reckless incuriosity, you dragged yourself to the top of your department. Soon, Alchemax became known for your contributions and the proper handling of your sections, which quickly became some of the most productive for the company. 

And so, sailing on the media wave, you became Spider-Woman. A hooded, black-clad, crime-fighting woman: a dark Marianne, representing virtue, fraternity and justice. You had become a symbol: an allegory of values, identity, and altruistic principles. You were an important part of the social dynamic and even influenced public policy.

Seven winters after you began lurking, it was too late to end the charade. Society was unaware that you were not invincible, and certainly not immortal. Eventually you would wither, like a Monocarpic Succulent that dies after blooming. A well-placed bullet, a miscalculation with your nets, bulbar paralysis from an anesthetic overdose, or the anticipated imbalance of your own DNA might well do the trick. 

In the wake of awareness of your finite trajectory, you wondered with languid morbidity if the moment really made a difference. Whether the world's suffering would be shortened by your abrupt disappearance, or whether it would contemplate your slow decay with you; until your body, your age, and your circumstances prevented you from wearing your mask again.

What held you back? You wondered as you watched the Train to the Stars rise above the city, disappearing into the black exospheric ocean. Was it fear of the consequences? You were a woman of science. Perhaps that was why your melancholy musings lacked a solid foundation. You failed to make the connection between a heterophilic multicellular organism that is born, reproduces and dies, and a spirit that individualizes itself in a soul that incarnates in a complex body of flesh. An indeterminate being that imprisons the soul world....

Reaching for those thoughts was like trying to hold the moonbeams. Only in the silence did they belong to you. 

You shuddered as the earpiece of your mask came to life and you heard MAX's voice as you sat up on the edge of the balcony.

"A robbery has been reported at a Stark-Fujikawa warehouse. The perpetrators defeated the cameras and escaped in a black vehicle. I've tracked the signal to Fifth Avenue."

"Put it on my radar." You asked, dropping down to glide in the direction indicated.

MAX highlighted the black car on your screen. Your claws swooped over a building. From your high perch, you jumped. Opening your arms, you glided over the busy street like a hawk.

"Run a vulnerability scan on the vehicle." You ordered, your eyes tracing possible routes.

"I cannot get remote access. I need time to bypass the firewalls that are rejecting my signal."

You frowned. You picked up speed by landing on a low rooftop and jumping several feet into the air. You stretched out your arms and threw your nets at the towers in the distance. 

You watched as the car glided at full speed through the traffic and pedestrians crowding Fifth Avenue. MAX's guidance helped you not to lose the car amidst the buzz of the electric motors, the glow of the neon lights, and the screams of the pedestrians who gaped at the thieves' wild ride. 

You quickly dove in and managed to pull one unfortunate person out of the path of the car, which turned sharply right onto 47th Street and continued its high-speed progress, deftly dodging other cars and intersections. You followed him, accurately predicting his route east on 6th Street.

You jumped, ran over the roof of a building, and cut across the street to fall a few feet from the car. Seeing your dark figure approaching, the car made a sharp left turn onto Lexington Avenue, where traffic began to pick up considerably. Drivers, surprised by the pursuit, quickly pulled over to make way for the fleeing vehicle. Sirens wailing behind them alerted passersby to the impending danger.

At 34th Street, the frantic driver took a risk and swerved onto Second Avenue, possibly to avoid the authorities who were already blocking the main streets. 

The chase continued for several minutes. At Park Avenue, MAX pointed out to you the approach of the patrol cars that were coming up from the left.

"One minute. Get ready to stop it." MAX warned.

You grunted an affirmative. You watched as the driver was forced to maneuver sharply to the right. Before he could go any further, the car's lights went out. The tires locked up with a thunderous screech. The driver lost control and the car spun around. It quickly approached a light pole at the curb.

Rapidly, you landed on the street. You threw your nets, wrapped around the vehicle, and pulled, digging your heels into the ground. 

You could feel the muscles in your arms tense up. The car tipped over, and for a moment it floated on its side wheels, a foot away from the lamppost. Then, it fell in a cloud of smoke and sparks. 

The door of the car fell down, and out of the cloud of smoke materialized a broad, stocky figure. It took a few experimental steps, adjusting its neck and limbs, and then... it vanished into the wind.

Immediately, you fell into a defensive posture. Your lenses narrowed and all other visual stimuli around you dimmed. You scanned the area. A few feet away you heard a rustling sound.

You spun in the air, barely avoiding the beam of light that split the smoke in two, and closed your eyes to concentrate on the noise around you. You would have to use your other senses to subdue the thief if you couldn't see him. 

You stayed low, rolling on the concrete as the familiar click of the trigger alerted you to the impending energy bolt. 

You pulled a small grenade from a compartment in your suit. Pressing the small button on the surface, you threw it at the last spot where the beam of light came from. You ran in the other direction and saw out of the corner of your eye the flower of nets that stretched three meters around it. 

You heard a grunt and the clang of metal against concrete, and observed the bulge in the layer of netting holding the individual to the ground. You could vaguely make out a distorted image of the concrete beneath him, and you were surprised to realize the refraction technology used in his disguise.

"Nice try, Frodo. But I'll take that."

Fumbling in the air, you finally grabbed hold of the man's archaic helmet and, with a tug, pulled it off as the man came into view beneath you. His legs and torso were completely covered in netting. The weapon was two meters away, near the lamppost, where it must have flown when the man fell. 

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, you psychotic bitch." The man spat, his bleeding teeth exposed in an expression of rage. 

You looked at the thick, cumbersome armbands, pants, and vest and considered the feasibility of a suit designed to take advantage of the interference properties of nanomaterials, allowing you to manipulate and redirect light rays over a wide range of wavelengths. MAX would help you make it lighter, more durable, and capable of evading thermal radiation signals by incorporating dielectric layers to insulate you from the environment. It would be a true invisibility suit.

" Clearly..." you slurred the words with disdain. "You're the one who doesn't know what you're getting into, big guy." 

With a flick of your wrist, you covered his mouth and bound his hands tightly. Sirens could already be heard circling the block. 

The time for thinking was almost over. You thought to yourself and gave a friendly wave to the police captain as he came up to you with his team of officers.

"Good evening, Captain."

"Spider-Woman." The stern man greeted. "We appreciate your assistance again. The stolen goods?" he asked.

"The artifacts he carries." You pointed, and the man nodded in agreement.

"Very well. I'll take care of the rest. You can go. Before the press gets here."

You hummed in agreement, watching the drones approaching in the distance, aware of the cameras on the buildings around you. 

"Perfect." You said, closing your eyes behind your mask. "Until next time."

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

At the top of Titanium Tower, the red dawn broke through the building's thick columns, diluting the night and bringing the third sunrise since your encounter with Spider-Man. 

After three nights of painstaking research, MAX had interrupted your patrol to inform you that although your ambitious project was still in its early stages, it was indeed feasible. 

And with that knowledge, you finally allowed yourself to plan. For if your reality were only one of many, and you were faced with the possibility of sailing through the cosmos to intervene in its course, that would mean....

It would mean that you had one more chance. To protect your city. To be a better hero and make up for your original sin.

A portal opened in space behind you, and you listened without seeing the footsteps. You dissipated your mask and turned to observe the stern and familiar face of Miguel O'Hara.

With your shoulders squared and your chin held high, you walked in the direction of his portal. Mentally preparing yourself for the interdimensional leap and making sure you used this opportunity properly. 

To protect him. To do the right thing.

This time in your own way.

@alicefallsintotherabbithole @digipaw2-0 @sunshowernaps @qiaipia @luciiferian @saltyllamakidwombat @amnmich @autismsupermusicalassassin @miggyyyyohara @songbirdlully

[languajix]

WIP Weekend

I shared this on Dreamwidth, so I might as well share it here too.

I'm struggling a lot to really pin down 2k3 Leo, especially for Hold Every Memory where he's 1/3 of the way into an apocalypse, but I do have one bit I'm kind of happy with. I think?

This WIP scene, as usual, may or may not end up with tweaks or heavy editing by the end:

Contains: intent to harm self, blood

The words kept trying to come out, but every time Donnie tried to open his mouth to let them free, they tangled up on his tongue and slammed his lips shut.

Leo finally seemed to notice, this time, because he frowned. Are you okay, Donnie?

That was the last little prybar he needed to croak out: Can I borrow one of your katana?

Leo actually glanced around for a second as if to try to divine what Donnie wanted to slice apart with his deadly weapon. There was nothing, as usual, because the space of the Astral Plane was a blank slate that stretched endlessly in all directions. ...sure?

Leo pulled one of his katana out of its sheath and spun it around in his grip with a practiced flourish, offering it to Donnie by the hilt, with the blade cutting straight through the space between them.

Donnie allowed his hand to hover over the grip without quite touching. You're not going to ask what I want it for?

As far as I'm concerned, you can take it and keep it, if the weird magic from the other dimension will let you, Leo said honestly. Whatever I have the power to give you is yours, Donnie. You don't even have to ask.

It was all terribly dramatic, but that was Leo, trying to be sincere. Donnie hated to crush it. This whole thing was a bad idea that would hurt them both, but he couldn't help his wanting. I think you should probably hear what I plan to do with it first. You may not want that kind of history on your blade.

Leo's arm remained stubbornly outstretched. Whatever you need.

I want to cut myself with it, Donnie said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

It still caused Leo to flinch. He glanced down at Donnie's reflection across the blade with wide eyes as though the idea of his brothers wanting to hurt themselves with his weapons was unthinkable. ...can I ask why?

Because bruises fade.

The first time Donnie had been bruised in the astral plane, he'd spent the whole night observing the colors slowly blooming under his skin with rapt fascination and a thudding pulse in his throat. He'd taken a hundred photos. For almost five hours, he was living proof that Raph had touched him. That his brothers were real. Then his accelerated healing had finally started wiping it all away and all he could think about was how he was going to collect the next one.

This was a healthier solution, for all that it didn't feel like one in the moment. I'm going to give myself a scar. Three horizontal lines, right here, he touched his left bicep. So that I never have reason to doubt that I carry you all with me.

He had a lot of scars. It would be nice to have a set he chose, this time.

The blade between them wavered. Leo switched his grip and flipped it in a beautiful arc, their reflections spinning across the polished surface, catching it by the hilt. Okay. I assume you have medical supplies ready?

I don't plan on going that deep. I know how to force things to scar. But yes.

The sword fell to point at the floor as Leo reached out to run his fingertips gently across Donnie's bicep, leaving prickling trails of unease across his skin. Three lines. Right here? How spaced out are you thinking?

Donnie hesitated.

I didn't want to put that on you.

Leo sighed. Too bad. It's my weapon, it's my hands either way. He didn't sound happy, but Donnie knew the steel in his voice meant there would be no talking him out of it.

He wasn't alone anymore. He didn't have to do everything himself. Every time the realization hit him anew, he went breathless with it.

He traced out the lines for Leo, the length and the spacing, felt the sword slip cleanly and quickly through his skin, and watched the resultant blood welling up in the cuts as if from a distance. As though this was happening to some other turtle mutant in some other astral plane.

Leo's mouth was pressed into a pale thin line, his eyes narrowed. He really wasn't happy. Go, Don. Take care of them. He vanished.

Don blinked. Right. He slipped back into his physical self and lifted the sterile gauze to his shoulder.

[esterpasa-reviews]

A Radiant Transformation: My Experience with Derma ProGenix

A Youthful Glow from Within

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[alias-sam]

Pierced by a Golden Soul

Chapter 37. Dodgeball is a Cruel and Unusual Punishment

Platonic Jojo's x Reader

Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.

Word Count: 1,928

(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)

At this point, you gave up on walking to school with Jaya, so when it came time for your morning commute you simply went. You surprisingly felt good today. Who knew two days without getting your ass handed to you by an enemy stand user could make you feel so rested? You didn't even have a nightmare last night. It was your first fulfilling rest in what felt like forever. Rain from the previous evening soaked the ground, leaving a light fog in the air. The sky was still dark and overcast, promising more heavy weather to come. As your sneakers splashed through a shallow puddle, you suddenly found your leg blocked by something.

"What the-?" There, on the wet sidewalk next to your foot, sat your oddball companion Vita. He was wearing a bright yellow rainslicker, despite there being no rain at the moment. The boy slowly turned your way, looking up at your with a glare for a moment before realizing who it was.

"Oh hi Y/n!" Vita greeted, his head tilting to the side a bit.

"Sorry, didn't..." You trailed off as you noticed Vita was holding something. "See you there." You finished, not being able to help but stare at your friend's hand. Worms. In the palm of his hand, he was holding a handful of slimy, wriggling, living worms. "Do I even want to ask about...?" Hesitantly, you pointed at Vita's hand.

"Whoops! My bad." Vits scurried over on his hands and knees to a nearby patch of dirt, and gently set the worms down. "I was saving them." He explained while standing up. "They wanted help." He whispered, tilting his head further to the side and staring at you with wide eyes.

"Whatever you say buddy." You sighed, already used to the boy's shenanigans by now. After taking a few steps down the pavement you looked back to find Vita just watching you expectantly. "...want to walk together?" You asked carefully. Vita simply nodded and ran over to match your stride.

"You look well rested." Vita chirped while you pressed the crosswalk button.

"Thanks? You too."

"Really?" Vita glanced at you quizzically. "I didn't sleep one-bit last night! The sound of rainfall is too distracting. Don't you think?"

"Not really..." You admitted, examining your friend carefully as he was distracted by passing cars driving through puddles. He looked suspiciously well rested for someone who stayed up all night. If anything, he looked better than you had ever seen him. Vita, in the time you'd known him, always looked sickly in some way. It was rare to see him without dark circles under his eyes, or a bandage somewhere on his body. His skin, which usually held an unhealthy bleakness, looked warmer and healthier. He seemed more alive overall.

"Ready for this afternoon?" Vita asked out of the blue.

"Huh?" You asked dumbly.

"Aren't you are coming over?" Vita reiterated slowly.

"Oh!" Crap. You completely forgot agreeing to that yesterday. Vita was giving you an intense and serious look, the kind of look that spelled 'If you say no I'm going to kill you'. "Of course!" You laughed nervously, doing your best not to cave under the pressure of Vita's stare.

"Cool!" Vita suddenly smiled. "My Umi insisted on making you dinner, so I hope you have an appetite. She's making Koshari."

"Sounds wonderful V." You breathed in relief, glad to be free of Vita's angered expression. It was surprisingly intimidating. You now understood why nobody at school messed with the guy more than once. Before you could continue to school, you realized your walking buddy was no longer by your side. Looking back, you found him stopped stock still in his tracks. "You okay?"

"You started calling me V." He whispered, a mix of confusion and wonderment floating across his features. "I need a nickname for you."

"Oh no..." You mumbled, facepalming.

"Is something wrong?" Vita frowned.

"No." You groaned. "I already have a nickname but it's really dumb." You briefly uncovered your face, only to find Vita watching you pleadingly. Finally you sighed, caving from the pitiful expression. "Awhile back my friend Jaya started calling me Jojo."

"Jojo..." Vita tested out the name and smiled. "I like it! Jojo suits you."

"Great..." You grumbled in embarrassment. The two of you parted ways after reaching the courtyard, agreeing to walk to Vita's house together after school.

...........

PE class, in your eyes, had always been a cruel and unusual punishment. For some odd reason, your school required all students to serve a one year sentence in the class in order to graduate. So here you unfortunately were.

You hated days like this. Days where it was too wet to go outside so the coaches locked you in the gym, dumped a container of balls in the middle of the room, and told you to have a field day. The beautiful and chaotic art of dodgeball has one simple objective, dodge the ball.

The crack of cheap rubber balls hitting the brick wall behind you rang out like cannon fire. To the opposing team it wasn't a game, it was war. Meaning, you were going to die. Or....at the very least, walk out of class with a bruise or two. Maybe this was why you hadn't died fighting an enemy stand yet. It didn't matter if you were an outcast, loner, Star football player, nerd, geek, or just a plain student. Nobody was safe. In this battle, there were those who limped out of class sobbing, and survivors. It was evil, it was cruel, and it gave the most savage side of your peers some time to shine through.

At this point, three rounds had gone by. So far you had been hit in the shin, ribs, and shoulder. The hit from round one made you trip, skinning you knee in the process. Round two knocked the wind out of you. And round three left you with a sore spot on your shoulder. It was a wonder you were still well enough to endure one final round of torment. It was a miracle when you managed to be one of the last five men standing.

You managed to keep your eyes on the opposing team the whole round, but your luck had to run out eventually. As you were sidestepping a poorly pitched ball, you failed to notice you walking right into the crosshairs of a strong armed upperclassman.

The next few moments happened in perfect, succinct sequence it would be impossible to replicate. The stars aligned for you today. Just as you noticed the ball sailing in the direction of your face, a hand reached out and caught it. The catch was so close the smell of rubber wafted across your face. You stood frozen in shock at the turn of events.

"Thanks." You murmured breathlessly, still gazing straight ahead at the ball that had been barely an inch from giving you a broken nose. Looking up, you found the familiar and reddened face of Lennia Heart.

"No problem." She replied, quickly hurling the ball back to the other side of the room.

.....

Your team wound up winning the final round of the game. As your classmates quickly ran from the gym upon class change, you lagged behind, having some trouble with your bookbag. You couldn't help but scratch your head when you found the strap of your bag was completely missing. There was no way it could have come off on its own, it had to have been cut. For a moment you were worried someone had been rifling through your bag, but after a quick check, you found everything in its rightful place. During that same check though, you oddly found the metal shard among your school supplies. You didn't remember putting it in your bag yesterday, but with everything that happened, you wouldn't put it past yourself to have forgotten doing something as simple as that.

"Everything alright Y/n?" Turning around, you were once again face to face with the student council vice president. Lennia stood over you, looking curious. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She had also changed out of her PE uniform into a black skirt and plain white blouse.

"Yeah, everything's fine." You smiled, picking up your bookbag. "By the way Lennia, you definitely saved me from another trip to the nurse's office. So really, thank you."

"It was nothing, my instincts must have kicked in." Lennia looked away, pink dusting her cheeks. As you were situating your now strapless bag in your arms until something fell out. Lennia gazed down at the object strangely. It was the bag containing the metal shard. "What is that?"

"Nothing." You momentarily panicked, scrambling to pick it up. "Don't worry about it." Lennia managed to reach the bag before you did. Out of panic and a lack of time to think you grabbed the girl's wrist. "Don't." You ordered sternly.

"Oh..." Lennia stared into your eyes, too encapsulated by the feeling of your hand to notice she was unconsciously clenching her fist. "Ow!" Lennia suddenly dropped the bag in favor on cradling her now bleeding palm.

"You okay?" You looked down to find the metal shard had cut through the bag and sliced the girl who was holding it.

"I'm fine." Lennia breathed, examining her small wound.

"No, that's bleeding a lot. Here." You motioned for her to wait a moment. In a matter of seconds, you retrieved a small first aid kit from your backpack. "Lucky I started carrying this around." You laughed, taking out a Band-Aid.

"Y/n..." The words caught in Lennia's throat as she watched you place the bandage on her injury.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I really can't afford to lose this." You quickly picked up the metal shard and put it back in your bag.

"What-" Lennia started, but you fixed her with a hard look.

"Don't worry about it." You insisted while walking towards the exit. "Trust me, you're better off staying out of it."

"Y/n wait!" You stopped, turning back to Lennia. The girl suddenly became bashful, unable to meet your eyes. "C-can we talk sometime?"

"I thought we were talking right now?"

"W-we are, but...I wanted to talk about something personal with you." Lennia paused. "Privately."

"Sure." You shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you about something as well."

"R-really?" Lennia's eyes lit up as she looked up at you expectantly.

"I wanted to ask about the whole rumor going around about you and I dating."

"Oh! That..."

"I just wanted you to know I have no idea who started it, but it wasn't me. I genuinely hope it isn't causing you any trouble."

"Right." Lennia looked away to hide her disappointment. "It hasn't caused me any trouble." She assured you.

"Great." You breathed in relief. "I really didn't want to hurt you Lennia." The girl went completely rigid as he face got redder.

"Y-you got my name right..." Lennia murmured quietly to herself with wide eyes.

"Well I hope we can move past this, maybe we could become more than just acquaintances." You gave the vice president a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Certain events recently have taught me not to judge people too quickly." You thought back to when you first met Vita and Tim. "I think maybe the two of us can be friends someday."

"Right...friends." Lennia sighed.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to get to my next class." You apologized while heading to the gym's exit. "See you in literature class."

"S-see you then." Lennia waved sadly as you left. After you were out of sight she looked down at her bandaged palm and frowned. It didn't hurt anymore. Curious, the girl slowly ripped off the adhesive and examined her palm.

The wound was gone.

[aebi12]

Sinful Desires - Chapter 10

Alyssa loses count of the times she sings for him.

When her mind cannot remember any more songs and her throat is so dry from not stopping, she starts telling him stories. Despite the years that have passed, she still remembers his favorites, so she narrates them in a low voice, trying to remember the exact events about the Age of Heroes and the strange legends of the children of the forest.

Her persistence seems to have a positive effect on him because he has long since stopped writhing in his bed and, when Alyssa places her hand on his forehead, his skin no longer feels febrile. Relief floods her body as she wipes the beads of sweat from his face and a thank you to the gods escapes her lips.

Alyssa gets out from the bed and sits in the chair where she had found Helaena several hours ago. The candles and the fire in the fireplace have almost gone out, causing the room to be bathed in a dim light that makes her feel sleepy, and she fights the urge to close her eyes and sleep. She has to resist. She has to stay awake and continue to care for Aemond.

The princess drinks some water, clears her throat, and fixes her gaze on him again, the feeling of vulnerability he projects engulf her once more. For an instant, Alyssa sees before her the boy he used to be. Young Aemond, with his determined and arrogant manner, wearing his regal green robes and projecting a strong and unperturbed appearance to all.

But not for her.

Alyssa still remembers his shy smiles when she surprised him with some stolen snack from the kitchens, she also remembers the books he had read to her when she told him she wanted to know more about the history of the seven kingdoms, she remembers the times they had thought about the names they would have given their dragons if their eggs had hatched.

The sun begins to rise and the princess is lost in her memories until the door is flung open and Alicent Hightower enters the room. The young woman stands up immediately and the expression of astonishment on the Queen Mother when she notices Alyssa's presence is even comical for a few seconds.

"In the Mother's name, what are you doing here?" she demands to know as she strides over to Aemond's bed. The queen continues with her questions without giving her time to answer, “How did you get in? What have you done to my son? Ser Criston!"

The new lord Commander of the Kingsguard instantly enters upon hearing Alicent's panicked voice. The knight has one hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend the queen immediately. For some reason the image transports her to the night Aemond lost his eye, specifically to the confidence with which Alicent had invoked the safety of her sworn sword and the determination Ser Criston had shown at all times to protect her. Alyssa smirks at the memory and a smug little noise that the queen interprets as disdain escapes her throat.

"You have the nerve to mock after what you did to the prince" exclaims the woman

"I did nothing to him that he did not deserve", Alyssa says, unable to contain her temper. Ser Criston takes a few steps towards her and she steps back before saying quickly, “I came here to take care of Aemond at Helaena's request. You should call your maester, the fever has passed and I think he is better”

Alicent stops watching her and focuses her exam on her son. Aemond continues with his eye closed but his breathing is even and his mien looks noticeably healthier. Alyssa insists, “I have been here since nightfall, I have had a hundred chances to kill him, but I did not. That is not my intention"

"Ser Criston, call maester Runciter" she finally orders after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Is it wise, my queen, to leave you here alone with the princess?" Cole asks.

Alicent looks at the knight and nods resolutely, “I can control the princess if I need to. Besides, Ser Arryk is at the door in case she has any tricks” she says the last thing looking at Alyssa, who bites her tongue to avoid responding as she would like.

Ser Criston abandons the room and Alicent leaves Aemond's bed and walks over to where Alyssa is.

"Why are you here, princess?"

“I already told you, your grace. Helaena asked me to take care of him."

"Yes, my daughter had the impression that your closeness would help him in some way"

Alyssa doesn't know what to say to that so she just stays quiet until the queen speaks again.

"Were you watching his sleep all night?" she asks after examining her face

“I sang for him too,” she admits.

"Prince Aemond doesn't like songs, he didn't even like them when he was a boy."

Alicent sighs, tilting her face back toward her son's bed, and an unfathomable sadness settles in her expression, which throws Alyssa off balance. While looking at the queen's face, which shows deep circles under her eyes that denote her tiredness, the girl has the impression that this is the first time she has seen Alicent as a real person because, despite having known her all her life, the queen has always been an aloof, authoritative figure, a name spoken without affection by her mother and stepfather... but she has never been what she sees now, a woman, a mother who seems on the verge of collapsing with worry.

"I feel that I owe you an apology," she says without thinking, "I did not intend to hurt Aemond." Alicent observes her again, her eyebrows raised and her expression of distrust clearly let the young woman know that the queen does not believe in her words. She sighs, frustration arises inside, the need to justify herself is stronger than her, causing her words to come out in a rush, "I lost control for a moment. I am not a violent person, I would never hurt someone intentionally, but the impression on what happened with…” Alyssa shudders and shakes her head. She can't think of him. Not now, "The news I received caused me a great pain and shock and it was horrible what I did and I am deeply sorry"

Alyssa looks down for a moment, fighting the desire to shed the tears that flood her eyes. When she finally calms down, she breathes deeply and faces the queen, meeting once again with Alicent's sad look and, for a moment, she has the impression that the woman is not really looking at her, but it seems that she is lost in her own world. Alyssa only observes her until the queen leaves her trance and fiddles nervously with her rings.

"I'm sorry too, princess. It was never my intention for things to get to this point. I tried to find a peaceful solution, to deliver terms that your mother would be willing to accept, but…” Her gaze returns to her son's bed. She doesn't need to finish speaking because Alyssa understands. Any chance of peace was gone the instant Aemond had killed her brother.

The maester interrupts the silence in which they had been sunk when he rushes in. Ser Criston enters after him and his gaze falls on Alyssa, but she ignores him and follows the maester, who approaches Aemond after greeting the queen.

"How is my son?" asks the queen, moving away from the young woman.

“The fever has gone. The prince looks better, his body seems to be healing as expected."

Alicent breathes a long sigh of relief as she slumps back into the chair. The maester proceeds to remove the bandages from the wound to change them for clean ones, but the queen stops him.

“Ser Criston, make sure the princess returns to her chambers,” Alyssa wants to protest, but she continues, “You've already been here all night, there is nothing more you can do for him. Furthermore, it is not proper for a young maiden to be alone in a man's room."

Alyssa blushes violently at her last comment and is inwardly grateful that the room isn't totally bathed in clarity.

“Princess” Ser Criston approaches her and Alyssa knows better than to resist.

Besides, Alicent is right, her task there had already been accomplished. The young woman casts one last glance at Aemond before following the knight out of the room.

***

She is not exclusively confined to her rooms.

Alyssa can visit the gardens, library, or throne room if she so wishes.

Or at least that is what Helaena tells her the afternoon she goes to visit her to thank her for watching over her brother's.

“He woke up a few hours ago and the first thing he did was ask for you,” her aunt tells her, “He meant to get up and come to you, but our mother did not allow it. The maester gave him more milk of the poppy and now he sleeps again."

Alyssa just nods at all this information and if Helaena expected it to cause something in her, she is disappointed when she notices her niece's blank look.

The truth is that, having returned to the solitude of her confinement after being expelled by the queen from Aemond's room, Alyssa had practically collapsed from exhaustion on her bed. The emotions and physical exhaustion of the previous nights had drained her of energy and she had sought refuge in her sleep.

But this refuge never came.

If the princess managed to sleep it was only for a few minutes and she always woke up more tired than she had been before. Her dreams were plagued by her memories of Luke, their shared moments from childhood, their last conversation... Alyssa would wake up with tears in her eyes and pace endlessly around her room until she came back to the bed and the nightmares continued to plague her.

The truth is that she doesn't feel entitled to mourn her brother.

Alyssa thinks of her family on Dragonstone. She thinks of her mother, who had endured the loss of baby Visenya with great difficulty. How had Rhaenyra reacted to learning that her Lucerys, her favorite son, was no longer in this world? Without a doubt, her mother must have been in deep pain. And Jacaerys…did Jace already know that his beloved brother had died? Jace, who had spent his entire life taking care of them both. And poor Rhaena…

All of them can mourn Luke's death.

But not her.

Because guilt washes over her every time, reminding her that it was her lover who ended her brother's life. The lover she had spent the whole night taking care of, doing her best to keep him from death. When guilt invades her and her pain and emotion overwhelm her, when fear and uncertainty for her future come back to torment her, she only manages to press her nails on her wrists and find relief in the sensation of physical pain. The stings and aching from her open wounds are like a ground wire, allowing her to breathe and providing brief relief. Not that she deserves to feel that relief.

"The servants say you are not eating well," Helaena continues with a voice that denotes the concern she feels. Alyssa watches her face, the frown and sorrowful blue eyes of hers.

The princess shrugs, not knowing what to say. The food does not appeal to her. She knows that she should try to eat, but everything tastes insipid to her. Helaena gives up after a few minutes of silence and leaves her room after giving her one last sorrowful look.

Alyssa goes to her place by the windowsill and returns to her vicious cycle of despair, pain, and blood. There the servants find her at dusk when they enter with a tray of food and help her remove her dress to put on her nightgown. The young woman winces as the fabric of her dress brushes against her bruised arms and the girls look at her wounds and then at her with sadness in their eyes but without comment.

Alyssa does not care too much. She does not have the strength to pretend to be okay or to hide the damage she's caused. She just wants to be alone

***

"How long have I been sleeping?"

Maester Runciter is cleaning his wound, a clean cut already looking rose-tinted, “A few hours. You needed to rest"

“I have rested enough. Finish quickly with that for I have important things to do"

“Surely, it can wait, my prince. You were unconscious for two nights, you have to be patient."

Aemond wants to tell the maester that he can save his advice for whoever really wants to listen, but he prefers to keep quiet. If he is too eager to get out of bed the man will surely alert his mother, who will once again prevent him from visiting Alyssa.

The first night after waking, Aemond had agreed to drink the milk of the poppy out of consideration for Alicent. The queen had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown during the couple of nights he'd been unconscious, Cole had told him, and she still seemed very distraught despite the fact that he'd woken up, so he'd preferred not to upset her too much and had agreed to rest.

But he could not continue in bed. He had to talk to Alyssa. He had to explain to her what had happened, he had to tell her that…

What exactly was he going to tell her? Would he dare to be honest with her? To admit that Vhagar had gone against his orders and acted almost on her own? Would he tell her that he was sorry for her brother? Would he confess to her the fear he felt at the thought of her not forgiving him for what he had done? The brief confrontation they had had in the throne room was still on his mind. Alyssa had refused to be close to him and had looked at him with such contempt in her eyes that his despair had been endless. Perhaps that was why he hadn't noticed the moment when she had snatched the knife from him. "You killed half my soul," she had told him. And she had announced her intention to take revenge. Not that he reproached her or held a grudge against her for it. Aemond, to tell the truth, was grateful for the injury she had caused him. He would endure every blow she directed his way until her thirst for revenge was satisfied and, perhaps, she could forgive him. Maybe that way, they would find peace together.

The maester helps him put on a clean chemise and his mother enters his room, followed by a maid with a tray of food that she places on the table.

"Aemond" his mother gives him a soft smile as she walks towards the bed

“Mother,” he replies, unable to help but feel the satisfaction of receiving Alicent's visit, “It is late. You should be resting now"

"Not yet" she looks at the maester, "How is my son?"

“The wound has healed, Your Grace. The danger has already passed”

"I'm relieved to know that" his mother's smile widens a little more and Alicent takes Aemond's hand in hers, "The prince will heal completely then"

“Indeed, my queen. Soon the prince will be able to return to his normal activities and perhaps visit his dragon”

Aemond doesn't miss his mother's reaction when the maester makes the comment about Vhagar.

“In due time, maester. My son still needs to rest" replies the queen standing up and walking towards the table to take the tray of food, "Thank you, maester, you can leave us now"

Runciter does a little bow before leaving. Alicent walks back to the chair and places a napkin in her son's lap.

"What did the maester really mean by mentioning Vhagar?" asks the prince immediately

"It was just a comment, Aemond, it is nothing that…"

"Mother" he presses

She makes a face before huffing and speaking, “Vhagar has been restless these past few days. The keepers of the dragon pit tried to appease her, but were unsuccessful."

Aemond knew the poor men would stand no chance of calming his dragon, who had spent too long exiled and far from the dragonpit to learn to obey them, "Where is Vhagar now?"

“Flying over the Blackwater. She has not stopped releasing flares since you were injured,” she sighs, ““She sank two ships heading towards Essos”

"I'll visit her tomorrow," Aemond says, internally feeling pleased to know that his connection to the dragon is still present.

“I wish you wouldn't, Aemond. You are not well yet, you must…”

He interrupts her once more, "Did you hear the maester, I am fine." Alicent doesn't reply, but he knows she'll probably insist in the morning. “I am also capable of feeding myself,” he adds when his mother reaches out to him with a soup spoon.

"Let me, please"

Aemond does not protest again and allows his mother to take care of him that night. He cannot avoid, however, his curiosity. He has spent five days without news of the kingdom and he needs to know the situation in which his family is.

"Has there been any news about the war?"

"We are not at war," says Alicent as she moves uncomfortably in the chair. At the look her son gives her, she adds, "At least not yet"

"Mother"

"Nothing has happened since you were hurt, if you want to know"

"But there must be ..."

"It wouldn't be your business anyway," she replies curtly.

Something stirs inside Aemond. His mother avoids his gaze and the prince has the bitter feeling that he has lost Alicent's trust. She had always been very honest with him, perhaps too honest, always trusting her worries on his shoulders ever since he had grown old enough to understand the dangerous context surrounding his family and his heritage.

"Mother, I know that I was reckless and negligent," he begins, the need to prove his value to his family rising in him again, just like when he was a child who felt insufficient for not having a dragon to validate him, "I acted in a way that does not correspond to the way you raised me and I endangered our family. I am aware of that, but…”

“Aemond, stop.” His mother places her hand on his again and stares at him, “I won't pretend I am not…upset by what happened to princess Rhaenyra's son. But I do not doubt your loyalty to this family or to your brother's reign. I only wish things had happened differently."

Me too, he wants to say, but he just nods and his mother pushes the tray away after deciding that he's had enough to eat, " Anyway, I'd like to know what's going on, that is all."

Alicent shrugs before responding, “We have not received a response from Rhaenyra regarding the terms offered for her to desist from her claim to the throne. Not that we were expecting one."

“And hasn't his side attempted any action yet or…?” he leaves the thought in the air

"We only know that she collapsed after finding out what happened with her son" she lowers her head and begins to play with her hands, hurting the skin around her fingers, as she always does when she is anxious or worried.

"Did she say anything about the princess's situation?" He asks while he gently takes her mother's hands among his, preventing her from continuing with her nervous action

"The princess" she sighs and sits down again, "No, we have not received any demand from Rhaenyra about her daughter. Most likely, she does not know that Alyssa is here. Lord Larys says Aegon captured her on the way to White Harbor. Maybe the news has not yet reached her"

Aemond is surprised at what his mother tells him. His half -sister surely had spies in court, the news must have already reached her, the silence about the kidnapping of her daughter is most suspicious.

"My niece is a valuable hostage, I hope she is being treated according to her position" he says trying to sound nonchalant.

Her mother rests her brown eyes on his and Aemond thinks he recognizes suspicion in them, but the feeling quickly passes, “She hasn't been mistreated, if that's what you mean. She remains confined to her rooms and refuses the attentions of your sister."

Alicent presses her lips together in a thin, taut line that shows her clear disapproval of Helaena's attempts to be civil with Alyssa, but Aemond lets the gesture go, making a mental note to thank his sister for being nice to his princess.

"Are you relieved to know that?" asks his mother taking him out of his thoughts

"What do you mean?"

His mother shoots him an exasperated look, “Do not treat me as a fool, Aemond. The girl was watching over your convalescence all night and you did not stop calling her in the midst of your unconsciousness"

Aemond feels the color come to his cheeks and refuses his mother's piercing gaze as he tries to compose his expression so as not to show the emotion that overwhelms him knowing that his princess was with him.

Not that he hadn't suspected.

Although he did not remember anything specific after passing out, inside him the feeling of having been lost and wandering aimlessly remained. But he had heard Alyssa's voice. Aemond believed it had been his imagination, his memories of the times she had sung to him under the weirwood, but perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps it was her voice that brought him out of that state.

“I like to think that she was here motivated solely by the guilt of hurting you,” Alicent continues.

No, it couldn't be just that, could it? Aemond's stomach clenches at the thought and he dismisses it. No, Alyssa had been with him because she still cared about him. It had to be that the reason.

Alicent sighs, defeated and aware that she will get no answers from her son, “Be prudent, Aemond. It would not be appropriate or wise to let yourself be guided by your desires."

"Mother…"

"Sleep now. It is too late already"

Without telling him more, she places a kiss on the forehead of her son and leaves his room.

***

Aemond wakes up at dawn.

With great care and not without pain, he manages to stand up and get dressed, taking care not to open his wound by making any sudden movement. Fortunately, his bandages remain clean and he takes that as a good sign as he walks towards the door. Each step is difficult at first, but soon years of physical training and endurance take over and he is able to walk almost normally.

Ser Rickard Thorne is visibly surprised to see him standing by the door and hastily offers him his arm to recline. Aemond declines the offer.

"Should I call the queen, my prince?"

"I have matters to attend to that do not require my mother's attention" when the guard seems to star to reply, he adds, "Follow me if you must, but for your sake do not interfere with what I am about to do."

The guard nods and lets Aemond go, who moves slower than he would like until he reaches Alyssa's rooms. The palace is still absolutely silent and he does not run into any servants, however, there is a guard guarding his niece's door.

"Leave us, Ser Arryk," orders Aemond.

The young guard knows his prince well enough to try to talk him out of it, so he steps aside and wanders down the hall. Aemond knows that Ser Arryk is more loyal to his brother than to him and that he probably would be prying about his visit, but he doesn't care for now.

Aemond pushes the door open and enters the room, trying not to make too much noise, but his slow, heavy progress gives him away.

Helena? Is it you?"

“Not Helaena, I am afraid” he replies finally entering Alyssa's field of vision, who is sitting by the window, still wearing her nightgown and her messy hair falling freely down her back.

Alyssa's heart skips a beat at the sound of Aemond's voice. For an instant she believes that her mind is playing tricks on her so she stops looking at the courtyard of the fortress and turns her gaze in the direction of the voice, running into the tall figure of the prince, who walks awkwardly towards her. Her eyes drift inevitably to his stomach, to where his wound should be, now hidden under his layers of clothing. Aemond should have healed well if he could now walk without help. Alyssa experiences a brief sense of relief at the thought, before the little voice in her mind reminds her again that he is her enemy.

Aemond watches Alyssa's expression go from incredulity to concern and disdain in seconds. The fear of her possible rejection assails him again.

"Have you come to collect the debt?" she asks in a lethargic tone

"Debt?"

“For hurting you,” Alyssa specifies, “Is it time to pay for my daring in hurting you? Am I to return to the dungeons?”

Aemond does not know what to say, dungeons? A few seconds pass before he responds, “No, of course not, do you think I am here to hurt you? Do you think me capable of that?” His voice transmits his disbelief and pain at the possibility that she thinks that he seeks to see her suffering

"Do not even try," Alyssa replies.

"Try?"

"Do not try to act like you are hurt by the suggestion I just made," she says in a dismissive voice, "Do not try to act like you care about me."

"Please let's talk"

"Leave," she says quietly as she turns her face back to the window.

"Alyssa, please let me explain."

"I do not want to listen to you. I do not want to be near you. I am a prisoner here, I know, but I am not forced to bear your company. Leave this room” despite the harshness of her words, her voice breaks.

And so Aemond's resolution.

“Do you really want me to go away?” he dares to ask her

The audacity of his question ignites the rage inside her. Despite having spent another restless night and feeling her strength slipping away, Aemond's question manages to prompt her to get up from the window resolutely and stride over to where he is with the intention of physically hurting him again.

“Did you expect another reaction from me? Did you think I would run into your arms and thank you for killing my brother? I do not think you are stupid enough to entertain such hopes or consider me magnanimous enough to simply overlook your transgression."

Aemond staggers and nearly loses his balance under Alyssa's furious fists attack, but he does not try to stop her. He knows well that this was a possibility. He also knows that he deserves to take her hits and that she needs to release what she has inside of her.

The girl punches his chest and shoulders, trying to put all of her strength into each of her rounds, looking to hurt him, though it doesn't seem to have much of an effect on him. At some point during the outburst she starts to cry and air begins to escape from her lungs.

Not now, Alyssa thinks desperately as her ears cloud with the familiar ringing and her head spins. The feeling that her heart is going to burst and stop suddenly overwhelms her, so she tries to take breaths to calm herself, but it has no effect. Alyssa looks at her trembling hands and brings them to her wrists, seeking safety from the pain, but bigger, stronger hands take hers. Alyssa does not protest, she is not in any condition to do it, she just allows arms to wrap around her waist and her forehead comes into contact with something hard. The princess tries to breathe once more and this time a smell of musk and wood reaches her. The scent is familiar and she is immediately comforted. The girl closes her eyes and continues to breathe, the feeling of nausea slowly disappearing as well as the tremors in her hands and her heart beats again in a regular rhythm.

The door to her bedroom opens and Alyssa opens her eyes. Two maids carrying a dress and a tray of food enter, but stop abruptly as they take in the scene before them. The princess is then aware that she is in Aemond's arms, that her head rests on his chest, and that they are in dangerous proximity.

"Put those down and leave immediately" he orders, furious at the interruption.

The maids curtsy and hurry out, closing the door behind them.

Alyssa pushes Aemond away from him, walking to the other end of the room. The anger has disappeared and the shame has settled in her, she cannot face him yet so she remains with her back to him.

"How did you get those wounds?"

“They were courtesy of your brother,” she replies after clearing her throat. She knows that, despite the days that have passed and the maester's ointments, her face still looks bruised, as does her throat.

Aemond suppresses a curse and balls his hands into fists. He is going to have a very serious talk with his older brother, but that is not what he is worried about right now, "I am talking about the wounds on your arms."

Alyssa ignores his question, "Leave, Aemond, I want to be alone."

He sighs, "Let me explain, please."

"Explain," she lets out a humorless laugh and turns to him, "Are you going to tell me the details of how you murdered my brother?" There had been a time when she had wanted to know exactly how things happened in Storm's End, but now her curiosity has been quenched, "Go away, Aemond, let me mourn my brother in peace."

Aemond owes her at least that much. The prince turns, ready to leave, but he has one last question.

"My mother told me that you took care of me all night," he asks turning to her.

"At Helaena's request"

“You sang for me,” he says in a low, melancholy voice. The princess bites her lip hard, how does he know that? Had Alicent told him? Alyssa doubts it. As if he could read her thoughts, he adds, "I heard you sing to me in my dreams."

Alyssa doesn't quite know what to answer, so they stare at each other for a few long seconds until she speaks, “You don't deserve an apology from me, I do not mean to give you one, but I will say that I was wrong to hurt you. I found no satisfaction in hurting you and taking revenge did not bring my brother back."

Aemond nods slowly after hearing her answer. Alyssa had always been a much better person than him, he knew that well. His Alyssa was light to his darkness and even though he had hurt her greatly, she had shown her kindness by taking care of him. Even though her actions were merely guided by her guilt and the realization of that hurt him, it felt good to know that part of her was still there.

The prince starts to walk towards the door, but she calls his name.

"Aemond, there is something I want to know" the anxiety and pain is reflected in her eyes, "Did you feel good after killing him? Did it feel good to finally get your revenge after all those years of waiting?”

Her question throws him off balance because, honestly, Aemond doesn't quite know how he feels. He knows that he regrets chasing Lucerys after leaving the castle, he knows that he should have been able to fight his temper, but… was he really sorry for his nephew's death?

Aemond is saved from answering because for the second time the door opens and Helaena enters the room with Ser Arryk. The gentleman tilts his head, noticing that Alyssa is still in her evening clothes, and focuses his gaze on Aemond.

"Sorry to interrupt, my prince, but the king orders the princess to go immediately to the throne room."

“Thank you, Ser Arryk,” Alyssa replies. The knight bows before leaving and the princess looks at Helaena, "I suppose this has to do with the absurd announcement he made the day he brought me to the fortress."

"I'm afraid so" sighs her aunt

Alyssa nods. Aemond looks at the two women, visibly confused, “What announcement are you referring to?

The princess raises her eyebrows at him, “Didn't they tell you? Your brother intends to take me as his second wife."

For the first time in days, Alyssa feels a surge of joy and satisfaction as she watches Aemond's horrified and furious expression as he hears what she has just told him.

_________________________________________________

Read on AO3: Sinful Desires by Aebi12

[joonbh]

Patient Success Stories: Real Results with Kamea G | JoonbH

In the ever-evolving world of skincare, finding a product that delivers consistent and remarkable results can be challenging. Among the myriad of options available, Kamea G has emerged as a standout solution, garnering praise and loyalty from users around the globe. This article delves into real-life patient success stories, showcasing how Kamea G has transformed lives and skin health.

The Magic of Kamea G

Before we dive into the success stories, it’s essential to understand what makes Kamea G so special. This revolutionary skincare product is formulated with a blend of powerful natural ingredients known for their healing and rejuvenating properties. Kamea G targets various skin issues, including dryness, irritation, and signs of aging, making it a versatile addition to any skincare routine.

Key Ingredients and Benefits

Shea Butter: Moisturizes and softens the skin, providing deep hydration.

Jojoba Oil: Mimics the skin’s natural oils, ensuring compatibility and effectiveness.

Vitamin E: Acts as a potent antioxidant, protecting the skin from environmental damage.

Aloe Vera: Soothes and calms irritated skin, reducing redness and inflammation.

With this potent combination, Kamea G promises visible improvements, and as we’ll see from the following stories, it delivers on its promises.

Success Story 1: Reclaiming Youthful Skin

Emily’s Journey with Kamea G

Emily, a 45-year-old marketing executive, had been struggling with early signs of aging, including fine lines and uneven skin tone. Despite trying numerous products, she saw little to no improvement. That’s when she discovered Kamea G.

“I was skeptical at first, but after just a few weeks of using Kamea G, I noticed a significant difference. My skin felt firmer, and the fine lines around my eyes and mouth began to fade. It’s like I’ve turned back the clock!”

Emily’s story is a testament to Kamea G’s ability to rejuvenate aging skin, providing a youthful and radiant glow.

Success Story 2: Relief from Chronic Dryness

John’s Experience with Kamea G

John, a 35-year-old teacher, had been battling chronic dry skin for years. Harsh weather conditions and a demanding job had taken a toll on his skin, leaving it cracked and sore. After a friend recommended Kamea G, John decided to give it a try.

“I applied Kamea G twice daily, and within a week, my skin felt softer and more hydrated. The cracks healed, and the soreness disappeared. Kamea G has been a game-changer for me.”

John’s experience highlights the deep moisturizing properties of Kamea G, offering relief and healing for those with persistent dryness.

Success Story 3: Healing Irritated Skin

Sarah’s Triumph with Kamea G

Sarah, a 28-year-old nurse, frequently dealt with skin irritation due to constant hand washing and exposure to various substances. Her hands were often red, itchy, and inflamed. Seeking a solution, Sarah turned to Kamea G.

“As a nurse, I need a product that works quickly and effectively. Kamea G did just that. It soothed my irritated skin and reduced the redness almost instantly. I can’t imagine my skincare routine without it now.”

Sarah’s story underscores Kamea G’s ability to calm and heal irritated skin, making it an essential product for individuals in demanding professions.

Success Story 4: Combatting Eczema

David’s Victory with Kamea G

David, a 40-year-old engineer, had been suffering from eczema since childhood. Flare-ups were common and often painful. Despite trying numerous treatments, nothing provided lasting relief until he found Kamea G.

“Eczema flare-ups have always been a part of my life, but Kamea G has made them more manageable. The itching and redness subside much quicker now, and my skin feels healthier overall.”

David’s experience illustrates how Kamea G can be a vital part of managing chronic skin conditions like eczema, providing comfort and relief.

Success Story 5: Addressing Psoriasis

Linda’s Breakthrough with Kamea G

Linda, a 50-year-old artist, had been living with psoriasis, a condition that causes red, scaly patches on the skin. Traditional treatments offered limited success, but Kamea G provided a new ray of hope.

“Kamea G has been a blessing. It’s gentle yet effective, reducing the scaliness and redness significantly. My skin feels smoother, and I’m more confident showing my arms and legs now.”

Linda’s story showcases Kamea G’s potential in alleviating the symptoms of psoriasis, enhancing the quality of life for those affected.

How to Use Kamea G for Best Results

To maximize the benefits of Kamea G, it’s essential to use it correctly. Here are some tips:

Cleanse Your Skin: Start with clean, dry skin to ensure optimal absorption.

Apply Generously: Use a sufficient amount of Kamea G to cover the affected areas.

Massage Gently: Massage the product into your skin in circular motions to enhance absorption.

Use Consistently: For best results, apply Kamea G twice daily, in the morning and before bed.

Stay Hydrated: Drinking plenty of water complements the moisturizing effects of Kamea G.

The Science Behind Kamea G

The effectiveness of Kamea G is backed by scientific research. Studies have shown that the key ingredients in Kamea G work synergistically to enhance skin health. For instance, Shea Butter and Jojoba Oil provide deep hydration, while Vitamin E and Aloe Vera offer protective and soothing benefits. This combination ensures that Kamea G addresses multiple skin concerns simultaneously.

Testimonials from Dermatologists

Dermatologists also endorse Kamea G for its efficacy and safety. Dr. Jane Smith, a renowned dermatologist, shares her professional insight:

“I recommend Kamea G to my patients because it’s formulated with high-quality, natural ingredients that are gentle on the skin. It’s particularly effective for those with sensitive skin or chronic conditions like eczema and psoriasis.”

Conclusion

The success stories of Emily, John, Sarah, David, and Linda demonstrate the transformative power of Kamea . This exceptional skincare product not only addresses a wide range of skin concerns but also delivers real, tangible results. Whether you’re struggling with dryness, irritation, or chronic skin conditions, Kamea G offers a reliable and effective solution.

With consistent use and the right application techniques, Kamea G can help you achieve healthier, more radiant skin. Join the countless individuals who have experienced the benefits of Kamea G and start your journey towards better skin health today.

Source URL :- https://medium.com/@info.joonbh/patient-success-stories-real-results-with-kamea-g-joonbh-230cf5ab31c8

[barclayitaly]

Best Barclay Italy Shampoo For Hair Growth

Keratin Hair conditioner Introduction: Are you tired of battling frizzy, dull hair? Discover the secret to unlocking gorgeous locks with the power of keratin.

What is Keratin? Keratin is a protein that enables form the outer layer of your hair, nails, and skin (epidermis). It facilitates your pores and skin, heals wounds, and helps maintain your nails and hair healthy.

There are fifty four kinds of keratin on your body. There are two options:

Type 1: Of the 54 types of keratins in your body, 28 are type 1 keratins, 17 of which are skin cell (epithelial) keratins, and 11 are hair keratins. Most type I keratins (cytokeratins) consist of acidic, low-weight proteins. They have many functions, including helping protect cells from internal forces in your body (mechanical stress).

Type II: The other 26 kinds of keratins in your body are type II. Of those, 20 are skin cell keratins, and six are hair keratins. They consist of basic-neutral, high-weight proteins. Their basic-neutral pH helps balance type I keratins and govern cell activity. There are two forms of keratin:

Alpha-keratin: Alpha-keratin is in the hair, epidermis, horns and nails of mammals. Type I and type II keratins are alpha-keratins. Beta-keratin: Beta-keratin is in the feathers, claws, beaks and scales of birds and reptiles. Do I need keratin for my hair? Keratin is the primary component of hair, so many people believe that taking keratin supplements makes their hair stronger. However, there are no studies that conclude that keratin supplements make your hair stronger. Talk to your healthcare provider if you’re thinking of taking keratin supplements to discuss any risks and benefits. Many people also believe that shampoos and conditioners infused with keratin oil make their hair healthier. Studies have shown that shampoos and conditioners that contain keratin hydrolysates can make your hair stronger, brighter and softer. Keratin Conditioner: Pamper your hair with our Keratin Conditioner, enriched with bamboo silica, argan oil, and quinoa water. This rich and creamy conditioner hydrates and repairs damaged strands, restoring softness and manageability. Lock in moisture and protect your hair from environmental stressors, all while enjoying the silky-smooth texture of healthy, revitalized hair. Nourish and beef up your locks with the strength of our Premium Keratin Conditioner. Infused with pure, great keratin and…

Description: Nourish and beef up your locks with the strength of our Premium Keratin Conditioner. Infused with pure, great keratin and a generous 2% dose of rejuvenating bamboo silica, this luxurious method works deep into every person hair strand to reinforce its internal shape and offer unprecedented reinforcement. But the blessings do not forestall there - this conditioner additionally features a superbly balanced combination of nourishing argan oil and hydrating quinoa juice to drench your hair in intense moisture.

Ingredients: 2% Keratin + 2% bamboo silica + 2% Argon oil + 2% Quinoa water , Aqua, EDTA, CTSC ( conditioning agent), emulsifying wax, mango wax, shea butter, vegetable glycerin, aloe vera extract, ritha extract, heena extract, sodium gluconate (cleansing agent), BHT, almond oil, argan oil, sunflower oil, UCURE (conditioning agent and thickner), perfume/essential oil

Usage Instructions: After shampooing, apply a generous amount of conditioner to wet hair, focusing on the mid-lengths to ends. Leave on for 2-3 minutes, then rinse thoroughly. For best results, use after our Keratin Sham Naturals Keratin Conditioner Enhanced with Nature's Finest Ingredients 2% Keratin, 2% bamboo silica, 2% Argon oil, 2% Quinoa water | | Sulfate-Free, Paraben-Free, Alcohol-Free For Men & Women

About this item Nourish and strengthen: With its deep hydration, this keratin conditioner leaves your hair feeling silky smooth and looking noticeably healthier. Ideal for anyone looking for a natural hair conditioner. To choose: Restore Your Hair's Natural Brilliance Deep Hydration, Naturally: Say Goodbye to Dry, Frizzy Hair with our Alcohol-Free Formula, Smooth, Silky Strands - Enriched with Plant-Based Ingredients for Superior Hair Nourishment DUAL ACTION: This keratin conditioner works like a double-edged sword. Regular use of the Barclay Conditioner for frizzy hair provides 100% smoother hair with more shine. Keratin works to smoothen your hair strands' overlapping cells. This gives your strands a smooth, fuller, and glossy look. For External Use only. Avoid contact with eyes. If contact occurs, rinse thoroughly with water. Keep out of reach of children.

[myfestivaldaze]

: Ultimate Skincare Collection

Deliverable.

### QOI: Ultimate Skincare Collection – A Game-Changer for Radiant Skin

#### Discovering the Collection

I used the QOI: Ultimate Skincare Collection with high expectations, and it certainly did not disappoint. As someone who is always on the lookout for effective skincare solutions, this collection promised a lot and delivered even more. From the moment I opened the beautifully packaged box, I knew I was in for a treat.

#### Impressive First Impressions

The first thing I noticed about the QOI collection was its luxurious feel. Each product is encased in sleek, high-quality packaging that not only looks sophisticated but also feels durable. The design is elegant, reflecting the brand's commitment to both aesthetics and functionality. The attention to detail in the presentation made me excited to dive into the skincare routine.

#### The Perfect Routine

I began incorporating the QOI products into my daily regimen, starting with the cleanser. The QOI Gentle Cleansing Foam is a standout product. It has a light, airy texture that creates a rich lather, effortlessly removing dirt and makeup without stripping my skin of its natural oils. My skin felt clean, refreshed, and never tight.

Following the cleanser, I used the QOI Hydrating Toner. This toner is a revelation. It has a refreshing, soothing formula that balances my skin’s pH levels while providing an instant boost of hydration. The toner is infused with natural botanicals that calm and invigorate the skin, making it feel pampered and revitalised.

#### Luxurious Moisturisation

Next in my routine was the QOI Revitalising Serum. This serum is a powerhouse of active ingredients designed to target fine lines and improve skin texture. Its lightweight, fast-absorbing formula left my skin feeling incredibly soft and smooth. After a few weeks of use, I noticed a significant improvement in the overall brightness and evenness of my complexion.

To complete my routine, I applied the QOI Age-Defying Moisturiser. This rich yet non-greasy moisturiser deeply nourished my skin, leaving it feeling hydrated and plump throughout the day. The anti-ageing properties in the moisturiser visibly reduced the appearance of fine lines, and my skin looked more youthful and radiant.

#### Outstanding Results

Using the QOI Ultimate Skincare Collection for an extended period has yielded fantastic results. My skin feels healthier, more vibrant, and has an even tone. The products work harmoniously together, enhancing each other’s benefits and delivering impressive results. My skin texture has improved, and I’ve received numerous compliments on my glowing complexion.

#### Final Thoughts

Overall, I highly recommend the QOI: Ultimate Skincare Collection to anyone seeking a comprehensive skincare solution. The collection offers a perfect balance of luxury, effectiveness, and elegance. Each product is thoughtfully formulated and contributes to an overall radiant and youthful appearance. Investing in this collection is truly investing in your skin’s health and beauty.