#music conservatory au

[sarcasticdolphin]

Drabble ideas (yet another update so I don't forget them)

Cultverse Rudolf solving his hot and bothered problem with a spot of murder

Music Conservatory au, Tod helping Rudolf prepare for a recital

Music Conservatory au, Rudolf taking some oral exams (not hot and spicy)

Cultverse Rudolf's POV of the kidnapping incident.

So yeah I'm down to four ideas. Feel free to send in prompts :)

[qc-wiggles]

Who would play piano/organ in your AU?

handwriting transcription:

mike crew, organ scholar under simon fairchild

the conservatory’s construction and design was overseen by robert smirke. following his retirement, he wished to design churches; he channeled this into organ building, particularly in the concert halls of the conservatory.

conservatory students usually have some level of keyboard skills. although jon didn’t pursue performance (he went for directed studies), he met the piano distinction requirements when applying.

[elrondsscribe]

And like. Yes. The thing I’m writing is a stupid self-indulgent college AU … but it’s a music school AU, so it’s Different, see.

[bloomingdarkgarden]

dark academia elriel au where Azriel is a music student {violinist} purposely failing botany so Elain can tutor him. though in secret he's curating a breathtaking garden for her in a conservatory and writing haunting, beautiful compositions devoted to her every night. Ivy coiling up walls, rain on windowpanes, shadows on parchment, etc.

[drunk-person]

The party (Modern Au) P.2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: One of the most talked about gossips among the lower class servants in Kings Landing is the fact (or not) that Aemond Targaryen got involved with his cousin Y/n Targaryen when they were both teenagers. Mainly due to the fact that at the age of 17 she was sent to Old Town overnight. Some employees claim that Aemond was caught between her legs. Some say that, like her father, she had had a horrible fight with her uncle and uncle and was sent away. And other than that none of this happened, she just became interested in the course offered at the Old Town conservatory. But now five years later, Y/n Targaryen is back, and rumors haunt those who favor them.

This chapter is a part of a main story The gossip, you can find the previous chapter, summary and general tags by accessing the link.

Summary of the chapter: After five years of no contact, Y/n and Aemond meet again at Cece Lanister's birthday party, and the sparks can be seen from miles away.

Warnings of the chapter: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, Oral Sex, excessive teasing, breeding fetish (only at the end) no description for reader.

A/N: Want to listen to music while reading the chapter? Problem By Natalia Kills will definitely hit. Comments and suggestions are welcome 💕

Word count: 4.350

Cece Lanister's house was brightly lit outside and dark with flashing lights inside, it was filled with the highest class people in Westeros, and Y/n smiled sweetly as she entered the house attracting looks from all sides.

Her innocent and sweet smile didn't match at all with the short black dress with thin straps that she wore for the night, nor with the silver heels that made her legs even more beautiful than usual.

-Y/n! -Cece's voice came, walking towards her with a glass of gym in her hands, even more smiling than before. - You came!

-But of course. -She gave the girl a hug when she responded, and when she let go she handed her a golden package. - Happy birthday Cece.

-Thanks! - She replied, already opening Y/n's gift and smiled widely when she saw a gold bracelet with a ruby ​​lion pendant, and placed it on her arm at the same moment. - I loved it Y/n, and it matches my outfit!

-That's good, Cece... - Before she could say anything else, Cece pulled her through the crowd of people dancing around the large living room.

-Come on, let's get you something to drink.

Curious eyes followed her, and Y/n just smiled at everyone as was common for her, Cece guided her to a bar that had been set up close to the main staircase of the room. And after receiving a cup of Gym from Cece's hands, she distanced herself a little, going in the opposite direction, taking advantage of the fact that her friend had gone to receive more newcomers.

Y/n watched the party attentively, her eyes wandering from side to side in search of silver hair among other so common ones, the minutes passed and she still hadn't seen any sign of his presence. And just as she was beginning to think that going there had been a huge waste of time, she saw him. Stopping near the bar with his typical look of superiority observing the environment, clearly not happy with being there.

Bingo.

She felt her heart fail momentarily when she saw him after so long, her eyes watered a little and she quickly wiped them away. Aemond was even taller than before, which she thought would be impossible, his hair was also longer and tied back in a half ponytail. He was wearing black pants and a button-down shirt with a leather jacket over it, and Y/n lost her breath a little at the sight.

And after taking a breath, Y/n downed the last sip of Gym that was left in the glass and headed towards the bar again with a wide smile on her face.

❦❦❦

Aemond couldn't believe he was at that stupid party at that time. He would wait a few more minutes and leave as quickly as possible, Helaena had just left, nothing was keeping him there now. Maybe Floris, but he didn't care enough to make any kind of sacrifice for her, and certainly not enough to stay at a stupid birthday party.

Floris made a sign pointing to the stairs as she followed one of her friends upstairs and Aemond just rolled his eyes without paying much attention, while shaking the glass of drink in his hand. And it was then that his eyes went up to the room again and he saw her.

Walking towards him with confident steps and a sweet smile on her face. Aemond felt his whole body heat up the moment he laid eyes on her, Y/n looked even more beautiful than before. Her hair was longer and fell in cascades to frame her face, she wore a tiny black dress with high heels, and Aemond couldn't help but think that she had dressed like that on purpose to tease him.

The closer she got, the more he felt his blood boil under his skin, unable to take his eyes off her. And when she got to him and hugged him in front of everyone with that sweet smile, he thought he was going to explode.

-How long cousin. - The sweet voice caused goosebumps on his skin and tremors in places he didn't want to mention.

Aemond wanted to be strong enough, but her perfume invaded his nostrils and he couldn't help but breathe deeply in search of more of her scent as he hugged her back, trying his best not to pull her too much towards him.

-Really a long time. - He said with a restrained voice as the two let go of the hug.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed his indifference towards her. Aemond was never indifferent towards her. He was passionate, angry, fiery, hateful, but never indifferent. He could be indifferent to everything and everyone, but not to her.

-Did you miss me?

She looked at him with that sweet look that could fool anyone by making her look so good and innocent, but Aemond could see right through it. He could see the malice burning through her eyes, he could see the subtle bite on her bottom lip, he could see her slightly curving her left eyebrow as she stared at him. This could never end well.

-Because I missed you, every day. - She said, getting even closer to him, making Aemond's gaze fall on her breasts, which were certainly bigger, and on them the beautiful silver necklace with a heart-shaped sapphire as a pendant.

Y/n smiled when she noticed where Aemond's eyes had gone, staring at her cleavage as if he were going to devour her breasts right there. He wasn't so indifferent after all.

-I missed so much that look you have when you want me.- She whispered close to his ear amid the loud music.

-Don't talk about it in public. - Aemond growled at her tensely while Y/n kept smiling.

-He doesn't even look like the same guy who stuck his fingers in me in the middle of a dance floor in Harrenhall, and only didn't stick something else in because the party ended early. - She spoke softly while pouting, teasing him.

-Y/n. - Aemond growled her name between his teeth, sawing his hands into fists in an attempt not to drag her away.

-Okay, if you don't like showing off anymore, let's go somewhere more solitary. - She said, turning her back and walking towards the furthest coat closet on the other side of the room next to the door.

And he told himself he wouldn't follow, but he couldn't help it. It was as if he no longer had control over his own body, being guided exclusively by the swing of her hips. Y/n entered the closet and shortly after Aemond followed her, entering and closing the door behind him, facing her in the dark.

-Do you know the consequences of all this if it comes to light in the media? Besides the fact that it's wrong, we're cousins Y/n, my father and your father are brothers, we can't do this. Not anymore. - His voice was irritated while his eyes burned, making Y/n smile.

-My father and Laena are cousins ​​too. - She rolled her eyes using a statement that Aemond himself had made a few years ago.

-Y/n that's wrong and you know it. We both know, we are adults now.

-And what about the things we did together? And all the dirty things you said to me? And when you came into my room in the middle of the night after fighting with Aegon and I let you do what you wanted with me? - She spoke ironically with arched eyebrows. - It didn't feel wrong at all when you were practically begging to be between my legs.

-We shouldn't have done those things. - Aemond spoke while staring at her lips and Y/n pouted when she heard him say that, Aemond bit his own lip at her gesture and then spoke slowly, holding his breath, as if the mere act of breathing in her presence hurt him.

- It was all wrong, a perversion.

-Are you repeating everything your mother says now? -She asked laughing as she looked at him.

- So answer me Aemond, if all this is so wrong and dirty, why did you come after me?

Aemond had no response and Y/n knew why. She then approached Aemond, leaving her lips close to his ear, almost brushing him.

-I didn't let anyone put their hands on my body Aem. - She practically purred. - Not even once. Only your hands have touched me. But since you don't want me anymore, then I'll look for someone who does, because it's been so long and I'm so needy. -At this point she was almost rubbing her own body against his while she spoke in his ear.

Aemond lost his temper. He grabbed her by the sides of her head tangling his hands through the strands of her hair, his fingers against her chin pressing firmly as he looked into her eyes with his own gaze burning in fury at the idea of ​​someone else touching what was always his.

And unable to contain himself, he pushed her against the door and kissed her roughly, taking her lips on his in the way he had wanted to do for the last five years. The kiss was wet and angry and they both bit each other's lips hungrily. Y/n pushed his jacket off his shoulders and Aemond let it fall to the floor, still kissing her lips furiously.

He ran his hands down Y/n's body, squeezing every curve again, every place he knew made her crazy with desire. And she released him from the kiss, sighing and throwing her head against the door when she felt his demanding touch pulling her more and more towards him.

-Always such a wanton whore to me, aren't you? - He asked, biting her earlobe, and Y/n agreed, nodding her head eagerly.

Aemond's head was spinning, and the only thing he knew at that moment was that he wanted her. And with that thought he kissed down Y/n's neck and shoulders until he reached the neckline of the black dress she wore. He pulled the straps down releasing her breasts to him, and Aemond automatically sighed at the sight.

-They're bigger. - He said, extending his hands and caressing them as if he missed them.

-Five years. -She moaned when she felt his mouth on her breasts and Aemond smiled as he sucked her right breast and squeezed the left one with his hand.

-They're still perfect. - He hissed as he moved his mouth to her left breast and sucked it too, making Y/n sigh and pull his hair making a mess.

Aemond then guided his left hand between Y/n's legs, moving her panties to the side and extending his fingers towards her intimacy.

-Always so wet for me. - He moaned against her breasts, sucking and nibbling them hungrily.

-Just for you Aemond. - She squirmed against his fingers.

-Damn. - Aemond cursed as he inserted two fingers into her heat. - So tight.

He then dragged her arousal further up and caressed Y/n's bud slowly as he admired the expressions of pleasure on her face. Little by little he increased the speed, just as he knew she liked, and she softly moaned his name as she whimpered needily, pulling him closer and closer.

-Aemond, inside please.

And he turned his hand down, sticking two fingers inside her while he continued stroking her clitoris with his palm, and Y/n screamed softly in his ear as she squirmed. He could feel her walls compressing against his fingers, he could feel her spasms against his palm and when she came almost collapsing against him, Aemond kissed her again and bit the lipstick-red lips still caressing her in the midst of her climax.

Aemond practically ripped the zipper off his pants and then pulled them down as he roughly lifted Y/n's dress up to her waist leaving it stuck there. And without warning, he pulled her legs up by his thighs and roughly invaded her while he moaned with his head buried in her neck. Y/n threw her head against the door and clung tightly to Aemond as she whimpered.

-It's bigger. - She moaned against his ear and Aemond laughed lightly.

-Five years.

-Idiot..

He didn't let her finish as he began to fuck her brutally, squeezing her thighs and hips as if her life depended on it. The loud music outside drowned out the noises of pleasure they both were making and the wet sounds that came from the act. Aemond bit Y/n's neck and her breasts, leaving love marks everywhere, and she scratched his back, pulling him closer and closer to her while she bit and kissed her jaw and neck.

-More more. - She begged him.

-Fuck, love, I won't last long, it's been so long. - He sighed, biting her ear.

-Okay, I'm almost there. - She said, tangling her hands in his hair and pulling him into an animalistic kiss.

Aemond moved trying to alter her position a little and then penetrated her again and Y/n had to bite his shoulder when he hit that perfect spot inside her that made her see stars. The older man smiled victoriously and picked up speed again while Y/n restrained herself from screaming, he felt her pussy twitching against his dick and he moaned uncontrollably against her lips, and once again he lowered his lips to her breasts and He started sucking them greedily.

Y/n was so close, she could feel the pressure in her belly pulling her down, the uncontrollable tremors, her legs pressing more and more against Aemond's narrow hips.

- Aemond, please. - Y/n sighed and he squinted his eyes when he heard the sound. - Cum inside me, I want to feel you so much, I miss you so much. - She begged in his ear, and Aemond exploded inside her, making her come soon after with the sensation of Aemond's essence spreading inside her.

Aemond writhed with pleasure, her pussy was milking him firmly and he thought he could die at that moment, because if he died with his cock buried in that delicious pussy he would die happy.

The two were panting against each other, still holding each other, Y/n still with her legs firmly crossed against Aemond's back. He slowly released her, and recovering his rhythmic breathing, Aemond gently pulled her legs from her back, lowering her back to the floor and took a step back, admiring her, while Y/n tried to stay standing with her wobbly legs.

And when Aemond looked at her he couldn't help but sigh. Y/n was standing against the door, her hair was a mess, her makeup was all smeared, her neck and breasts were covered in red marks. Her dress was gathered at her waist and her breasts were exposed, with her erect nipples rising and falling with her still irregular breathing. The panties still on were stuck between her crotch and thigh, leaving her pussy exposed with their mixed fluids leaking down between her thighs.

Y/n, realizing where his gaze had gone, took her right hand to her own intimacy and using her index and middle fingers, she rubbed Aemond's seed against herself, moaning his name in the process.

Aemond advanced on her again at the same moment and knelt on the wooden floor, pulling her panties down and putting them in the pocket of the jacket he had thrown on the floor. He then pulled her thighs, pinning them against him neck itself.

-What will you do? - She sighed even though she already had an idea, Aemond always loved sucking.

-Finish what I started that day. - He replied, then sucking her sensitive pussy greedily, making her scream his name without caring about the other guests at the party.

He continued sucking and kissing her as he felt her shudder and heard her screams and moans without caring if anyone else could hear. The music was very loud, and so was the noise of people, but at that point Aemond didn't know if he would care if it wasn't. He penetrated her spongy interior with his tongue and with the movements he made, his nose pressed against her clitoris in the exact way he knew drove her crazy.

-Aemond I can't. - She sighed.

-Another. - He begged against her intimacy. - Let me feel your taste, I missed your sweet taste so much. Let me taste you.

And when she heard him saying those words, Y/n came against Aemond's lips, contorting in pleasure with tears running down her cheeks. Aemond tasted her against his own tongue, groaning with contentment and absorbing every drop of her essence.

-Delicious. - He groaned finally, leaving a kiss on her sensitive button and she gasped at the feeling.

He stood up again and helped Y/n remain standing as she balanced herself against his body. Aemond readjusted the straps of the dress on her shoulders and lowered it again to cover her thighs. And then he picked up his own jacket from the floor and put it on again.

-I can't stay here like this. I look like…

-Fucked? - Aemond asked with a malicious smile.

-Very well fucked. - She purred at him, boosting Aemond's ego even more.

-Let's get out of here. - He said, already pulling her towards him and opening the closet door.

The two crossed the crowd of people dancing and shouting in the dark and quickly headed towards the door without saying goodbye to anyone.

❦❦❦

Aemond's apartment wasn't too far away, being in one of the city's privileged areas. The car ride there was short as the two talked and laughed.

-What is Aegon doing? - She asked laughing.

-Nothing, as usual. - Aemond laughed back, looking really only 23 years old now. - Our offices are on the same floor, he arrives after 12:00 pm and leaves at 4:00 pm.

-Typical Aegon. -She rolled her eyes, still amused, but suddenly becoming more interested as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. - But what about you? How's work? Have you reached the vice presidency yet?

Aemond smirked as he turned the steering wheel while making a left turn.

-I have a lot of work to do, and I think it's unlikely that anyone will be vice president at my age.

-Ah, but not you. - She smiled beautifully at him, making Aemond's hands tingle. - I think I can see you performing any role without any problems Aem.

-I'm the deputy director of technology. - He smiled looking at her sideways.

-I knew it, he's already vice-president of something, he never does anything halfway. -She rolled her eyes and Aemond murmured softly while he smiled sideways.

The car entered the building's parking lot and the two went towards the elevator, at a safe distance from each other, and when Aemond opened the door and the two stepped into the apartment he barely finished closing it before jumping on it again. , grabbing Y/n hungrily as if the two hadn't just been on top of each other.

-I thought that all of this was a mistake, and that we were both young and perverted. - Y/n spoke against his lips.

-Screw this. I do not care. I just want you, I just want your body. Let me have you again. - He said, already taking his hands to the hem of her dress and ripping it off over her head, leaving her naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only her silver high heels and the sapphire necklace.

-You can have me whenever you want, and however you want. - She said, pulling him by his hair for a slow and wet kiss. - You know that.

Aemond threw her over his shoulders and carried her towards the bedroom while Y/n screamed and laughed in his arms. He violently dropped her onto the bed while he ripped his own shirt over her head, looking at her naked with just those heels and the necklace lying on the bed looking at him while biting her lip.

-Seven hells how can you have become even more beautiful? - He said as he took off his pants ready to take her for himself, and then he noticed her thighs still with traces of his seed and a thought struck him.

-Are you taking contraceptives? - Aemond's voice was fearful as he remembered this question.

Y/n bit her lower lip with a mischievous smile, shaking her head as she removed her shoes and threw them on the floor. Her eyes shining with that malice that drove Aemond crazy, her hair falling wildly across her face, framing it, her naked body spread across the sheets.

Aemond really wanted to feel angry, he should have felt angry at the prospect of getting Y/n pregnant, but the only thing he felt was a twinge in his lower abdomen when he saw her deny it.

-Y/n. - He practically growled her name while staring at her without knowing if she was serious or not.

She knelt on the bed without bothering to cover Aemond's own nakedness and faced him smiling while she crossed her hands behind his neck and pulled him close to her.

-What's it? - She bit his ear. - Have you changed that much, Aem? - She asked in a sweet voice, looking up at him under her long eyelashes.

-I remember when you begged me to let you come inside me, asked me to plant your seed in my uterus. You said he didn't care if we were only 17, because you wanted to see me grow up with your son. That you didn't care about anything else because then everyone would know that I was only yours…

Y/n barely finished speaking when Aemond pulled her by the knees, knocking her back onto the bed and climbing over her.

-How can you be such a bitch? - He asked and without giving her the chance to respond he kissed her again passionately, biting her lips and sucking her tongue.

Aemond didn't give any warning, he just penetrated her, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes while he moaned with satisfaction at the feeling of her wet heat around him.

-Damn. You bring out the worst in me. - He moaned as he gave a strong thrust inside her, making her gasp and dig her nails into his back.

-I don't care, I like your worst. - She whimpered. - Give me more, be the worst it can be, I can take it.

And Aemond slapped her in the face, making her moan as she rolled against his cock. He pulled out of her, making her say his name in protest, but before he could say anything else he roughly turned her onto her stomach, throwing her against the sheets and penetrating her again without warning, making her scream with the new depth.

-All right? - He panted against her back.

-Yeah. - She sighed. - I want you so much, I missed you so much.

Aemond bit her back and thrust hard into her making Y/n gasp beautifully for him. He slapped her left ass cheek and fucked her hard right after, setting a brutal pace that made the bed creak beneath them as they both panted desperately.

-Whore. Always a greedy whore who doesn't know when to stop.

-I am. - She gasped with tears streaming down her face. - You whore, Aemond. Only yours. Please…

He gave her ass another slap making her gasp as more hot tears ran down her beautiful face.

-You will look so beautiful when you are carrying my child. And then you won't be able to pretend to be so sweet and good when you're in public, everyone will know that you let me fuck you and do whatever I wanted with your body. That you begged your own cousin to give you his seed. - His voice was crazy amidst the pleasure and the panting. Sweat dripped down Aemond's chest amid the thrusts.

-Imagine when it comes out in all the newspapers and magazines that you are pregnant and I am the father. No one will ever dare try to take you away from me again, you will be all mine forever. Even more beautiful than she already is carrying my children. - Possessiveness dripped from his lips with those words, and he squeezed her hips with such force that they would certainly leave marks the next morning.

Y/n cried with pleasure as she writhed beneath Aemond as she heard him saying such dirty things, her entire body went into a frenzy of uncontrolled pleasure, and the coil of growing pleasure in her lower abdomen exploded all at once as she she screamed Aemond's name amidst the pleasure, digging her nails into the sheets and pressing her face against the pillows.

-Imagine when the news reaches Old town. - He sighed evilly, fucking her during her orgasm. - That the very sweet Y/n who spent five years studying at the septa conservatory left her own cousin to fuck and get pregnant. Everyone will know, I will make sure that everyone knows that the baby that will grow in you is mine.

-Aemond. - She whimpered against the pillows. And he came deep inside her, leaving a bite on her right shoulder lost in the midst of the pleasure.

-Take all of me. - He panted while still inside her. - All for you.

And after that he collapsed on top of her exhausted with heavy breathing, he knew that Y/n was joking, since her favorite pastime was teasing him, but Aemond couldn't really care about the fact that she was possibly being serious and he actually getting pregnant at that moment. He then turned them on their side while still inside her hugging her from behind and buried his head in the crook of Y/n's neck feeling that delicious orange smell that he had missed so much, and finally slept completely peacefully after years.

And only the next morning did Aemond vaguely remember, Floris.

next chapter

tag list: @fan-goddess @afro-hispwriter

[wisteriagoesvroom]

playing pinterest roulette and seeing what AUs i can make up based on the pics (part 3 of ???)

Classical Music AU: Max is second chair at the London Contemporary Orchestra - a newer but well-respected group lauded for their fresh approach to music, marketing, and sponsors. Max’s meteoric ascent looks to continue with first chair Seb Vettel's departure, which is coming up in a year.

That is, until the LCO bring in a shock contender, Charles Leclerc. Leclerc is a traditionalist and highly marketable classical violinist, with a star-studded CV including the Paris Conservatory, and a star-making stint at the Berlin Philharmonic.

Charles's working style is also a problem. He's warm in a way that Max is not, understands music in a way that's fundamentally different to Max, and he builds an easy rapport with Vettel from the start (Max's jealousy has nothing to do with it.)

As the season winds on, Max and Charles continue to clash about everything. Playing styles (speed and correct interpretation), the relevancy of classical music (Max is all for moving the genre forward and bending the rules, Charles cares about deference to old ways), and even a loud argument in the caf about whose name gets to be written first in the program ("do not push me down the list", one of them says. The marketing team eventually agrees to write them both on the same line to reflect equal status).

This continues until the LCO asks them to work on a special project, composing a score for a new indie movie. It's both musicians’ first foray into cross-medium production, and the LCO thinks it wouldn't hurt if the soundtrack won a couple of awards too. Max and Charles reluctantly accept the project, knowing the first chair position is the prize if they can be the star contributor. It doesn't matter that there's only one first chair position, because each is convinced that they will win.

As they're heading to the studio for recording one day, Max asks to stop at his apartment to grab a hard drive that has some instrumental stems for a tricky piece they're working on.

While waiting at Max's doorway, Charles sees a loose sheaf of paper fall from a table. He walks over and picks it up.

Charles realises it's one of the earlier librettos he'd written while he was still at the Paris Conservatory. Not many people know about it - it was an experimental piece, from his earlier work, rough around the edges and vaguely embarrassing. He didn't even think anyone liked it, let alone heard it or went through the effort to source it.

Stunned, Charles tucks it back into the stack of papers on the table, only to see there are more relics from his early career. A pamphlet for a summer performance in Switzerland, a train ticket to Berlin for the same performance date that landed him in a review as a once-in-a-generation talent.

Max reappears in the doorway with his bag, and freezes. Charles stares back, and speaks first.

"Have you had these all this time?"

Max's blue eyes are cool, even as his face burns. "We have our differences. But it'd be impossible, not to notice you."

[i-can-read-to-him]

The Wesper Fic Club's Author Spotlight is a post series that aims to feature two to three fic authors a month, randomly selected from a pool of names put forth on our server. The authors are then asked to answer three interview questions, select up to five of their fics for us to feature, and finally, recommend three fics by others in the fandom.

(Note: Our spotlighted fics are not limited to Wesper, though they tend to be a central pairing in most of our authors' featured works.)

This week, we are putting a spotlight on Ashlynn's writing!

Socials: @oneofthewednesdays (Tumblr) | oneofthewednesdays (AO3)

❀

Part One: Author Interview

Q: What’s something you haven’t written yet, but want to write in the future?

A:  So, one of my favorite series when I was in high school was The Mediator series by Meg Cabot. I was absolutely obsessed with the budding romance between Jesse and Suze. In fact, I used to write for the fandom back in my fanfiction.net days. Those early fics have been purged from the Internet as far as I can tell. Anyway, I want to write a Mediator AU for the Six of Crows fandom. Instead of zowa powers, Jesper can see dead people. These dead people may or may not include the ghost of his mother. In his first year at university, he ends up moving into a room in a building that used to be an inn back in the 1800s. Wylan is haunting his bedroom. (He was murdered en route to a music conservatory back in the day). Jesper decides to solve the mystery of Wylan’s murder, at first because he is annoyed by his ghostly roommate. He wants to force Wylan to move on so he can have his room to himself. But later Jesper begins to care about Wylan, even falling in love with him. If you have read The Mediator series, you already know how it is going to end…. Also, Paul Slater will be played by Kuwei Yul-Bo. If you know, you know.

Q: If you could travel anywhere in the Grishaverse, where would you go?

A: I would travel to Ketterdam to study at the university. I absolutely fell in love with the description in the book, with its crooked little alleyways filled with bookbinders and apothecaries. It reminds me so much of Oxford University in real life. I had the opportunity to conduct archival research at Oxford as a visiting scholar when I was in graduate school. During my two summers in England, I spent hours nestled in the Bodleian Library, surrounded by stacks of books. The design of the Boeksplein is basically the same, but with more interesting gargoyles. I am also about to begin my career as a university professor, so the University of Ketterdam just seems like a good fit… as long as gunfights don’t break out in the reading room.

Q: Apart from sight, what is your favourite of the senses to describe when writing?

A: I absolutely love writing with sound, especially words with subtle onomatopoeia. I love the rustle of leaves on a crisp autumn morning, and the murmur of the wind through the branches of a willow tree. I draw quite a bit of inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe here. When I was young, I fell in love with his description of a heartbeat in “The Tell-Tale Heart.” His poem “The Bells” is absolutely mesmerizing to me, and I borrow sounds from it all the time. Indeed, Poe talks quite a bit about the importance of sound in creating mood in one of his essays—“The Philosophy of Composition”—and it is something I think about quite a bit when I write. I love to use the ticking of clocks and the dripping of water to stretch silences. Finally, I absolutely love movies like the Quiet Place franchise because they are a study in soundscapes. In another life, I think it would have been really cool to become a foley artist in the film industry.

❀

Part Two: Selected Works

Sleep No More

Teen | 51.1K | Wesper Modern AU, NYC, Homelessness, Angst with a Happy Ending

Sleep No More is my love letter to New York City. In the opening scene, Wylan wakes up on the 7-train as it leaves the tunnel at Hunters Point Avenue. The glare flickers beneath his eyelids, making it impossible to sleep.  I took the same commute on the 7-train for several years when I was working out at a school in Queens. I would spend over an hour on the train, listening to Crooked Kingdom and other audiobooks on my commute. On one of those commutes, I started to consider the challenges Wylan would face as an unhoused teenager in the city. The story evolved from there to include alternating point-of-view chapters between Wylan and Jesper, and of course, some guest appearances from other crows, as they work together to outwit Jan Van Eck.

Musée des Beaux Arts

Teen | 24.6K | Gen with background Wesper, Kanej Friendship, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Ableism, Happy Ending

I wrote Musée des Beaux Arts during the Six of Crows Big Bang event back in 2022. I wanted to explore how Wylan and Kaz complement each other as character foils throughout the series. Therefore, the story includes alternating point-of-view chapters, starting with the Queen’s Lady Plague. The title comes from a poem of the same name by W.H. Auden, and I tried to incorporate themes from that poem throughout the story. The poem, in particular, discusses a Pieter Bruegel painting called Landscape with the Fall of Icarus. Therefore, artwork plays a central role throughout the narrative. Each chapter shares a title with a famous painting from the Dutch Golden Age. My favorite chapter is probably the third because I had so much fun writing Jesper. 

Sankta Margaretha and Other Tales Of Sorrow

Teen | 18.4K | Kanej  Hurt/Comfort, Family, Angst, Implied/Referenced Non-con

This was the first story that I ever wrote for the Six of Crows fandom, and it is easily my most popular fic. It follows Mama and Papa Ghafa on their journey to Ketterdam to reunite with their daughter. I had so much fun developing the unique narrative voices for both Mama Ghafa and Papa Ghafa. The Lives of the Saints features heavily in this fic as well. I fell in love with the story of Sankta Margaretha when I first read it, and I wanted to infuse as much of that mythos into the story as possible. It is, at its core, a story about faith and forgiveness. Plus, I got to write one of my favorite interactions between Papa Ghafa and Kaz Brekker. 

Escapology

Teen | 2.2K | Gen  Modern AU, Escape Rooms, Friendship, Humor

Escapology is such a self-indulgent little fic. I am an escape room enthusiast in real life. I have traveled to multiple cities with my friends to complete escape rooms. We have, to date, done thirty-nine rooms together as a team. I wanted to explore the chaotic energy of a Modern AU where the Crows work together to escape an Ice Court-themed escape room. Kuwei is their poor, exhausted gamemaster.  If we ever get our Six of Crows spin-off, I need Netflix to create an exclusive Ice Court escape room in real life. Can you imagine how fun it would be? 

Pas De Deaux 

Teen | 9.7K | Wesper Holidays, Healing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Post-Canon

I am so fond of this little fic, and not very many people have read it compared to some of the others, but I am not surprised because it was a winter fic that was published well after the winter holidays. It is heavily inspired by the Soldier Prince story in The Language of Thorns, which was in turn heavily inspired by The Nutcracker Suite. Wylan is struggling with less-than-happy memories during Nachtspel, and Jesper helps him make new memories. I started this story writing the kiss at the end, and then had to write nine thousand words to actually get to the kiss.

❀

Part Three: Author's Recs

Bright Morning Stars by endoftheworld 

Mature | 163.5K | Wesper Hunger Games Crossover, Canon Typical Violence, Rebellion

This is the second story in Now We Are All Chosen Ones. While I would encourage you to read the opening story in the series first, it can absolutely stand on its own as a self-contained story. Jesper has always known that he would be reaped for the Hunger Games. It was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, Wylan is the son of the president, and he begins to realize that he is being watched. Bright Morning Stars keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish, and I absolutely love how the author wove together Six of Crows and the Hunger Games. 

hybrid signal by pyrrhlc

Mature | 110K | Kanej with background Wesper, Helnik  Fairy Tale Curses, Haunted House, Monster Kaz, Hurt/Comfort

Written through the lens of a Beauty and the Beast AU, this is an absolutely gorgeous exploration of not only the love between Kaz and Inej, but also the meaning of forgiveness in all its forms. The worldbuilding is stunning, and I loved how the enchantment transformed each of the crows. There are tragic notes to it, of course, there is an eventual happy ending. 

crystal cut by twosoulsinonehome

Mature | 107K | Wesper Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Figure Skating, Hurt/Comfort

I have reread this fic at least three times since the final chapter was posted in February. It is a figure skating AU. I know nothing about figure skating. However, I was absolutely entranced by the annoyances-to-lovers dynamic throughout the fic. Wylan is a figure skater. Jesper is his coach. Will they kill each other before the end of the season? Or will they kiss each other senseless instead? (Who am I kidding? You already know the answer to that question.)

❀

Please support our authors by commenting and leaving kudos on any stories of theirs you read and enjoy! Don't forget to also reblog this post and check back soon for our next author spotlight to come.

Interested in joining our server and getting to know our community? Feel free to request an invite via the @i-can-read-to-him ask box.

[faroreskiss]

Harp Lesson (+18)

MINORS DNI

Summary: You had enough of your instrument, and you wanted to try out his. How could you have said no when he offered?

AKA Link teaches you "techniques".

Pedal Harpist!Link x Fem!Reader (Sky x Reader)

Read the collection in Ao3

A/N: This is tagged as both LU and Skyward Sword Link, as I imagine them to have the same personality.

This story was born after a long inspirational chat with @pinkalmondcake about imagining the Chain in different roles in an orchestra! (From a piano technician to a pedal harpist...), which for now we are calling the LU Music/Musician AU, but who knows :D Stay tuned for more content!

Also big thanks to @beyondtheglowingstars for having a first look at it and the feedback!

Also tagging you guys because after seeing your content I think you'd enjoy this (hopefully) @chainsofgoldandash @chain-link-smut Duet mentioned: Saint-Saëns, Fantaisie for Violin & Harp, Op. 124 — Camerata Pacifica

You were in the practice wing of the conservatory, trying to play the latest piece that was prepared for the upcoming concert that was planned. The sounds were just not coming out as clean anymore as you were trying to keep yourself focused. 

Being the principal first violin, or the “concertmaster” as they called it, was absolutely making you feel the pressure. Not like the orchestra was that big, it was a chamber orchestra, a bit of an odd one perhaps due to its composition. You had both a harpist AND a concert pianist, for starters. And they all had the same name… Link.

Inner base of your left index finger started to hurt, did you start to hold the violin wrong all of a sudden? You sighed as you gave up and held your violin like a guitar, deciding to pizzicato the rest instead. It also counted as practice, right? As you plucked the strings according to the sheet of music in front of you, your mind wandered once again. Plucking… Each time you put your violin in that position and timidly pulled at the strings, you were reminded of him again. The quiet, kind boy with the full lips and calloused hands, sitting in front of the harp, carefully trailing his hands along the strings, like he was lost in a dream. You really wanted to try playing it some day. 

Link… You of course found out later that he was as gremlin-like as one could get, despite his calm and quiet appearance. You would have never thought he was the one that brought the whole chandelier down at the Lumpy Pumpkin years ago, because he “totally had to get that thing up top”. 

Well, neither of you were in Skyloft anymore, and not even on the surface you both were familiar with. And not even THAT long after he defeated Demise, he was ripped apart from all he knew, somehow trailing also you along. But that is a story for another time. 

“(Y/N)?” you heard a soft voice calling for you, jolting you away from your preoccupations. It was him, right outside the door. 

“Oh, hey,” you said absentmindedly. 

"Hey," Link replied, with the warmest smile that always seemed to put you at ease.

You couldn't help but admire how he had a knack for making even the most awkward situations feel comfortable. The atmosphere in the practice room seemed to shift as he walked in, a warm and pleasant energy filling the space.

He glanced at your violin and chuckled softly. "Having a bit of trouble?"

You nodded, still lost in thought. Of course, at this point he knew when and why you would switch to constant pizzicato. "Yeah, it's just not coming out the way I want it to. I can't seem to concentrate,”

Link took a seat nearby, his sky-blue eyes focused on your instrument. "Maybe you need a break,“ he seemed hesitant to continue to his next sentence, but regardless, he spoke up. “How about that duet we talked about a while ago? It might help you relax perhaps."

You perked up at the idea. "Oh, right! Yes, of course… Uhm… “ Your left hand was feeling quite tired at this point, since you pressed on the initial joint way too much. Probably you messed up the technique between the sea of distractions you had. His presence was not helping. 

He felt as if he said something wrong, from your reaction and suddenly his body language shifted to nervousness. 

“Uh, it’s okay if you don’t feel like it right now,” he said, slowly starting to rise from the seat he took. A sudden panic took over you, that’s not what you meant!

“No, no! I want to!” you said, your voice was a bit of a higher pitch than you expected. “I just had enough of my instrument right now,” you raised the violin, holding it with two hands upside down, pretending as if you are about to crush it on the floor, making a chuckle escape from Link. 

“But you know what, I've always wanted to try the harp a little, never had the chance," you said, but then bit your lip. You weren’t sure if he would let you touch it at all, since it was a gift from his precious Zelda. “But it’s okay if-”

A faint smile touched Link's lips as he interrupted you "Well, today's your lucky day. I can show you the basics if you'd like."

You felt a surge of excitement as you nodded eagerly. "I'd love that!"

He got up and led over to the harp in another practice room, its elegant strings shimmering in the soft light of the room. You joined him, your curiosity piqued as he explained the fundamentals, his hands gently guiding yours to pluck the strings, as he made you sit down in front of it. It was a beautiful pedal harp. He also pulled another stool near yours, though he would sometimes lift himself a bit up from it to show you the technique.

“There, I already set up the pedals for you.” 

He showed you how to slightly tilt it towards your right shoulder and there was a moment awkward yet sweet, where you panicked and thought the harp was just going to crush you. Though for some reason, when you heard you don’t need to use your pinky (which was pretty much your enemy while playing the violin), you seemed to have forgotten about the 35 kg instrument that was leaning on you as you screamed “Praise Farore!”

He was used to you being goofy one moment and panicky the next. The hearty laugh he let out made your heart melt. 

“You need to have straight shoulders and a straight back, okay?” he started instructing you.

“Like that?” Apparently you were still slouching a bit, letting the instrument actually almost crush you.

He cranked a little grin, seemingly innocent as he spoke. “Let me show you again…”

As you both leaned over the harp, you couldn't help but feel a growing closeness. The gentle touch of his fingers sometimes brushing on yours accidentally sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. It was as if the basic notes you were playing together was a reflection of the unspoken connection between you.

Link continued to guide you through the basics, his breath warm against your ear as he explained each step. The sensation of his presence, so close and comforting, made your heart race. You were entirely focused on the harp, the music, and Link. Just watching his fingers pluck on those strings, sliding between them as if it had been the most natural thing he had ever done in his life, producing divine tunes... It reminded you of your dream last night instead, the dream of the sounds that he coaxed out of you, as he played idly with the strings of your thong while he was on top of you, his tongue trailing your neck. A soft blush was creeping through your cheeks. You weren’t going to learn anything if this kept on.

“(Y/N)? You there? You gotta have your thumb up, okay?” you were once again jolted back to reality. You were glad he didn’t have a direct view of your face, but he must have still noticed how absentminded you looked. Shit, you didn’t want to be disrespectful, you were enjoying this. Though you couldn’t deny that your fingers were hurting…

“Y-yes, sorry, can you show me the last part again, please?” 

Unintentionally, as he leaned in to show you a particular technique, his chest brushed against your back, and his arms wrapped around you, cradling yours as his hands rested on the strings. There was a little pause. Your breath was stuck on your throat.

“You have to sit a little bit more upright, like this,” he broke the silence which felt like an eternity. He was still so close to your ear. His right hand pressed gently on your lower back and his left hand was pressed in the opposite direction on your bust, as he gently guided you back into the correct posture. It was a motion which should have just fixed your slouch, yet his hand was lingering a little bit too long on the front. 

“And relax your shoulders… It should only be your elbow that’s moving…”

You both froze for a moment, feeling the sudden closeness. His heart thudded against your back, mirroring the rhythm of yours.

"Sorry," he murmured, pulling back slightly. "I didn't mean to..."

Despite his innocent tone, you had a gut feeling that it was almost entirely deliberate.

You turned back to him, still close but within a respectable distance, and your gazes locked. You could see pink creeping up on his cheeks, if only slightly. You just wanted to make sure.

“It’s okay,” you softly spoke, your gaze lingering between his full lips and his cerulean eyes. 

That was most likely the sentence he needed to hear.

He noticed that you bit your lip as your eyes darted between one spot and the other. It almost felt as if he was holding back a smirk, yet he was still careful and polite with his reactions. Noticing the stray hair threatening to dangle in front of your face, he gently tucked it away behind your ear. As his fingers grazed your cheek, you marveled at the sheer willpower it took to stifle a gasp.

Was he sitting a bit closer now? And what was that look?

Now to think of it, did he ever need to sit right behind you like this to teach the instrument anyway?

His hand was still on your cheek, lingering a bit longer than necessary.

Witnessing his gradually fading ability to conceal his response, you suddenly felt bold.

You scooted even closer, he was almost pulling his hand back, but you put your hand on it decisively, feeling the warmth of his hand over your cheek. 

In the next moment, what parted was not the distance between, but your lips instead as the gap between you closed with a soft kiss. 

As your lips met, even though it was a gentle, feather-light touch, you could feel his lust through it, the sensation tender yet hungry. You instinctively moved your hands towards the nape of his neck, as he still held your cheek. 

But he stopped you, moved your hands away and held them on your lap, and grinning into the almost broken kiss the entire time. You were slightly taken aback. 

He was still staring at your lips while you were trying to still process what just happened. You were wondering how he was able to even break the kiss like that, second guessing your decision. Screaming and panicking inside.

He cleared his throat and composed himself, looking all serious suddenly once more. You could also see he was all red, and you could swear his heart was beating almost as fast as yours. Your almost trembling lips made an “O” shape to almost say something.

“Shall we continue?” He interrupted you, with a professional tone. He didn’t even wait for your reply, he stood up and pulled the older stool away. Instead, he got another chair, and moved it adjacent to your stool.

Directly behind. 

“Turn around?” He spoke in a tone that sent a warm feeling towards your center. 

Oh Gods. So that’s what we are doing? Okay…

“Let’s continue from this part here, can you try strumming again as I showed you?”

“Alright…” you were finally able to get a word out. He sat down on the chair, and his body was in direct contact with yours. So warm… You weren’t sure whether or not it was your heartbeat or his that you were feeling. You gulped.

You tried to strum for dear life, but it didn’t even sound like you were able to get a proper sound out. His mouth was so near your ear as he was humming the basic rhythm you were supposed to practice in, his arms were now resting on your lap as he rounded them around your waist. How did you end up here? The nerves were going to be the end of you.

“Nuh-uh, not like that, just relax… okay?” he said as he snaked his fingers away and this time put them on each of your arms and gently caressed them as he kept speaking to your ear, making them come back to your lap.

“Relax your arms a little bit, I mean…” 

He then guided your hands once again to the harp, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand on it. 

“Like that?” you asked, looking for some feedback as your voice trembled a bit.

“Mm-hmm, keep playing” he whispered to the tip of your ear again, as he moved his hands back towards your waist, his fingers trailing down towards your thighs, making little circles on them as he went nearer and nearer towards your center. 

Though your initial reaction was to freeze, his words and actions were also helping you at least to relax your posture, though he wasn’t letting you break the form either, pressing himself onto your back each time you dared to slouch. 

“Like this?” You pressed back as you spoke like a whimper, feeling something growing, making contact with your bottom, feeling his, and perhaps your own heartbeat rising even more. A silent low groan escaped from his lips without him intending to, in which you had the honor of being the “first ear” audience. 

You really wanted to rub your legs together, because an itch that can only be scratched a particular way was also growing. You couldn’t, lest you break form.

His hand slowly lifted the hem of your tunic dress a bit further, since it was already a bit up from the way you were sitting. Your legs were already spread to accommodate a proper position with the big pedal harp, after all. 

You didn’t make a peep.

He put chin on your shoulder, right next to your head, as his hand snaked down under the dress a bit more, and he kept speaking with that low, almost growling tone.

“There is one more thing I want to show you, if that’s okay?” spoken so innocently like a whisper, with only a tinge of mischief in his tone. 

“Y-yeah?” you barely got out.

He spoke so virtuously, indeed. Almost as if his hand wasn’t exactly on your underwear, making light circles over it with his feather-like touch that sent all your nerves screaming. Screaming for more contact, more pressure.

He could absolutely feel how swollen you were under the cotton-fabric as his fingers traced over it. And you could feel his breath also quickening, becoming more uneven yet more and more in sync with yours. 

His lips were trailing your neck and his other hand found and grabbed one of your breasts, caressing it through your dress. Those full lips, oh Goddesses, they felt so good even on your neck as they moved from one sensitive spot to another. 

Especially when he pressed you to himself, as he held you from one breast with his left hand, and grabbed you from your throbbing center with his right. 

You were still holding back that moan, desperately trying to pluck on the strings, thinking this magical moment could end the moment you stopped.

Oh your fingers were going to totally blister later, you did have some calluses on your fingers, but there was no way you could have the ones that a harpist would have. 

But as he trailed his calloused hand slowly up to your stomach and then back down, this time sliding his hand into your underwear and directly on the bundle of nerves that you desperately needed contact on… There was almost no more fight left in you. The harp was pressing on to his hand and his hand was pressing on your clit.

You let out a relieved sigh. The way his fingers callused, it felt even better than you expected.

But his hand wasn’t moving. 

“Mmmm… Very good, keep going, pluck the G string, make sure your wrist is slightly bent in…” he urged you to still try to play the fucking harp with that sultry tone. Each time you tried to pluck the harp, you were feeling even the subtlest vibration from the big instrument. 

Your heart was in your ears, all your blood was rushing south, you were instinctively trying to move from where you are sitting, just to get more pressure, more movement. He was merciful for a moment, his middle and ring finger did a couple of circling motions exactly where and how  you needed it. That was it, you did let out that moan. You could hear him lightly chuckling. 

He continued his instructions however. “Now, spread your legs a little bit more… for me?” There was a tiny bit of hesitation on the last part, as if he wanted to make sure once again that it’s alright to continue. How could you deny his request, when he had you right where you wanted him to? You could of course only oblige. His soft yet almost demanding voice left you hypnotized. 

As you spread your legs a little bit more, he pulled the chair a bit more back, along with you, and created a bit of a distance between you two and the harp. You could feel his dick pressing on you even more with each movement. You were surprised at his self constraint. From your point of view, he should have just taken you. 

“Link…” you spoke his name almost as if you were begging. The way you said his name definitely had an effect on him. But he shushed you. Though you could hear him gulp. Gods… How did he end up with his hand on your wet sex?

“Sssh, we are here for a lesson, aren’t we?” he whispered to your ear again. He took his hand from inside your underwear and brought his middle finger near your mouth. 

“Lick it.” he said firmly this time, with no hesitation. He was focused on his goal. You took his finger between your lips as if it was some other body part of him, and you made sure to make him understand that with the way you licked the tip and sucked the whole finger in, you gave him the full show, as much as you could. 

“Very good,” he almost hissed to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe just a little bit. His now wet finger went back down to where it was, this time back of his hand raising your underwear like a tent.

“Now… Here is another technique…” he said with a dark tone. His middle finger slid down, feeling almost proud after noticing how wet you are, and dipped it inside you just briefly, and brushed it up and down all over your sex, especially focusing on your clit. You gasped. With his index and ring fingers, he pulled the skin over your clit only a tiny bit up, keeping the hood intact. As his fingers were holding your clit in a place he wanted, he plucked on the tip of your slippery clitoral hood with his middle finger, slick with your juices.

“Ah…” was the only sound you could get out. As you pressed and pushed yourself to him after each of his plucks, his other hand on your breast would sometimes pinch your nipple. His kisses on your neck would get momentarily rougher. He would gently bite your ear lobes. He would make sure to dip his finger into you (sometimes two or three), to make sure everything stayed perfectly wet. As moments passed, the plucks became teasing presses, and then finally became proper rubs.  

“You are doing so well for me…” he would whisper sometimes, as your breath hitched, chasing your high, trying to adjust yourself on his fingers.

You just drank the essence of his tone in, because at that point the only thing you knew was that he was determined to make you cream his fingers. He couldn’t know what you exactly liked, but he was sure able to ask for it in the perfect way.

“You like it here…” he would ask, moving his middle and index finger to spot, “...or there?” he would ask again, moving them into a bit more direct contact instead. As your orgasm built up, the way you wanted him to touch you also changed.

Once he made you jump because he touched it too directly. “Oops…” he said as he peppered your neck with kisses, as if each one said “sorry”. He kept massaging that one breast again, and you helped him move his hand into a position you liked before.

Your panties were already gone at that point.

“More…ah… pressure…” you moaned between your pants. 

He could only do as you said. 

Oh his touch was magic.

But the fact that he listened and obliged turned you on as much as the way he was able to pluck his way through your center. 

Your legs were shuddering and shaking as he kept rubbing your clit exactly as you wanted, sometimes his fingers dipping in and out between your slick folds. 

“Yes, Oh Gods, Link…” you were so close, SO close. 

“Mmm-hm…” you could hear he was also getting impatient. His breath was still on your neck, his other hand was under your tunic just kneading your breast roughly as he liked, he started whispering things to your ears that you would have never thought could come from that innocent looking Link. 

“Let go for me (Y/N)... Come for me.” he would keep whispering in repeat as you were on the last leg to your climax.

“Show me how you come… Come on you beautiful thing…” It felt like he would say anything to coax you into your release. Then you’ll be all ready for me.. He also thought but didn’t say out loud yet.

The tight feeling that had been building in your stomach, the one that made your legs and body tremble, was finally about to reach its crescendo. 

You were whimpering his name between the continuous mumbles and mewls of “Please” and “Keep going”. 

With the last flick of his finger on your clit, he pinched a nipple with the other and sucked on your earlobe with his plump and gorgeous lips, while trying to hold you back from falling down. You reached your limit.

“Good girl…” he purred into your ear. 

It all crashed as the sweet sweet embrace of the overstimulation and orgasm washed over you as your insides contracted, you felt like an arrow getting released from a tight strung bow. You saw white.

As he noticed your sensitivity, Link pulled his hand away from there. You turned and straddled him, as you were still panting from your post orgasm bliss, and pulled him into a deep, open mouthed kiss. Not letting him speak. 

Determined the devour the soft plump lips you always adored,

But Link? He wasn’t done yet.

[statustemporary]

take my hand, take a breath

SUMMARY: Viscount Bridgerton was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first.

//

Or Lady Danbury notices Kate has given them the slip during the Conservatory Ball and she finds her charge having a conversation with the viscount in the garden.

RATING: General Audiences

WORD COUNT: 1,760 words

TAGS: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conservatory Ball AU, First Dance, no beta we die like edmund bridgerton

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhh not only is this the most i've written since like october??? but this is also my first work for bridgerton. kanthony brainrot has never left me so time to put it to paper. anyway this was inspired by one of my 87 different fanfic prompts i've been posting to tumblr (on @myficprompts) in hopes others will write it but i got impatient on this one and figured i'd just do it myself. (would love to see someone take on the original prompt though! please!!!!! thanks!!!)

***

Despite the way they have butted heads since their introduction, Lady Danbury had a begrudging respect for Miss Sharma. Her obstinance in the face of harsh truths was admirable to a degree. Frustrating, to be certain. Ill-mannered, to some extent. Yet the firm set of her shoulders, straight back, and words infused with a note of smugness proved she would be a formidable gatekeeper for her sister’s suitors.

If only the miss would not write herself off so young. Old maid by the Ton’s standards, unfortunately, but by her own, she had a full life still ahead of her.

Miss Sharma may have rejected her suggestion of a match but the curious way in which she admired Viscount Anthony Bridgerton also proved that the walls fortified around her young heart were not impenetrable.

Which meant that Miss Sharma’s disappearance in the midst of her sister’s first dance raised alarm.

As much as she had written herself off, she was still under Lady Danbury’s protection. Personal declarations of not being on the marriage mart did not make her unsusceptible to being compromised or other scandal. A thought that she would have hoped Miss Sharma to consider before wandering off but as Lady Danbury learned earlier, there was still much for her to learn about the Ton.

The dowager parted ways from a nervous Lady Mary with nothing more than a quip about watching her thirst before she moved about the room. The music covered the sound of her cane clacking against the wood floor and gave Lady Danbury the ability to slink along the walls of the conservatory.

Her stop at the set of windows near the entrance door proved most fruitful. She heard the faint sounds of gentlemen departing for the smoking room and, just before she continued her search, she spied her own charge stepping into close proximity to the viscount.

In view of the ballroom and still a respectable distance to not cause scandal, Lady Danbury did not appreciate the familiar nature in which the two conversed, especially as they had not been introduced. Huffing, she made her way to the entry garden.

“…as deficient as your horsemanship. I shall bid you goodnight.”

Lady Danbury came around the hedge at the same moment as Miss Sharma, their bodies nearly colliding.

“Miss Sharma,” she drawled, resting both hands on the head of her cane. She scrutinized the young woman, her eyes traveling to the flustered man who gaped at them like a fish out of water. “Viscount Bridgerton. How curious to find you both out here. Together.”

“My apologies, Lady Danbury – ” Viscount Bridgerton attempted to speak before Miss Sharma cut in suddenly, louder.

“I simply needed air. I did not realize I had to alert you of my need for a break.” She smiled, thin-lipped and with a hint of frustration – at the viscount, at her, at the situation – before bowing her head to Lady Danbury.

“Yes, well, seeing as you are under my protection,” Lady Danbury said, a warning glance to Viscount Bridgerton as he looked equal parts fearful and thrilled at the information, “I fear I did not stress the seriousness of some of the Ton’s etiquette specificities. It is of the utmost importance that they are understood, to lessen any troubles of your sister making a good match. Understood?”

Miss Sharma bit her tongue, her eyes darting to the side to the silent viscount behind her. “Of course, Lady Danbury,” she forced out.

“Lady Danbury, if I may – ”

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the boy she’d known since he was in leading strings. A boy no longer if the title of Rake he’d worn without care for years meant anything. She always had a soft spot for the Bridgerton family. Her own connection aside, to find a love match such as the one between Edmund and Violet, a love match that proved fruitful until the eighth viscount’s death, was a rarity in the Ton. The strength of the family bonded by that love match showed in the closeness of the children and the genuine love and affection they showered upon each other. Even when she’d watch the children squabble and fight, it was never with the nasty cold demeanor of the rest of the Ton.

Then to watch as Anthony took on the role of viscount, father, and provider before heading to university had softened her more. Lady Danbury admired the way he took care of his family and how he not only kept them afloat following his father’s death but ensured that they thrived. He was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first. She did, after all, recall Miss Sharma’s slip of the tongue on the edge of the dance floor.

“You have done quite enough, Viscount Bridgerton.”

Her glare silenced the viscount as his mouth thinned and his brows furrowed in displeasure.

“Lady Danbury, I must go see to my sister – ”

“Your sister is being looked after by your mother, Miss Sharma. Perhaps you should let those of us seasoned within the Ton take over from here.”

Miss Sharma pressed her lips together for a moment before she responded. “With all due respect, as I mentioned earlier, I was the one to prepare my sister for her debut and I really should be helping to vet the quality of her dance partners…”

The young woman’s words never made it to Lady Danbury’s ears as her eyes were too busy taking in the scene before her. They flickered between Miss Sharma and Viscount Bridgerton with a quick and startling realization.

Cut from the same cloth, they stood before her as the eldest siblings of their families, the caretakers and providers, with strong shoulders upon which the heavy burdens of their families laid. The protectors who cannot see the wood for the trees in regards to the marriage mart.

Equals.

“Hm,” Lady Danbury cut Miss Sharma off. “A dance is a brilliant idea.”

“My lady?” Miss Sharma asked, blinking her eyes in confusion.

“Pardon me?” Viscount Bridgerton asked behind her.

Lady Danbury hit her cane against the ground. Even without the sound of its impact, the two before her stood just a hair taller. She raised her voice as the doors to the ballroom opened. “How wonderful of Viscount Bridgerton to ask for your next dance. Splendid indeed!”

Miss Sharma huffed. “He absolutely did nothing of the sort. He cannot even dance.”

Viscount Bridgerton rolled his eyes. “Now you object to my dancing abilities?”

“I saw how you nearly trampled the young miss on your last dance.”

A smug grin worked its way onto his face as he stepped closer. “So you admit to eavesdropping and watching me now?”

“As I said, it is not eavesdropping if you speak loud enough for the entire party to hear!”

Lady Danbury cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows expectantly at the two in front of her. She swung out her cane, hitting their shins and watching in satisfaction as the two stepped apart though neither were entirely pleased.

“Yes, a dance will be a nice way to tidy this situation up. Afterall,” she said, lowering her voice, “it would not do well for others to know of your conversations and familiarity prior to an introduction. And I will require to know just how familiar you are with each other.”

Miss Sharma laughed off the suggestion. “That will not be necessary, Lady Danbury. I do not host any of the, what was it,” she turned to the viscount for a moment with a saccharine smile before facing Lady Danbury once more. “Ah, yes, impeccable qualities that Viscount Bridgerton is in search of in a wife.”

This time, the huff came from the viscount’s mouth. “That is completely unfair and you know it, Miss Sharma,” he said, a teasing lilt endearing to his voice as he said her name, negating the frustration that colored it prior. He cleared his throat before she could respond and grinned at Lady Danbury much like the cat that ate the canary. “However, you are right, Lady Danbury. A dance is a wonderful idea to mitigate any chance of scandal.”

She watched in amusement as Viscount Bridgerton’s grin widened when he turned to Miss Sharma. He lifted his hand and held it out to her, waiting for a moment.

“Miss Sharma, may I have this dance?”

Despite his proud swagger, the viscount’s request came out soft and like a whisper. His eyes crinkled and his gaze warmed, melting the arrogance that so often moved him forward. For a moment, Lady Danbury felt as if she was witnessing Edmund charming Violet all over again.

Miss Sharma’s breath hitched in the back of her throat at the intimacy that laced his words and she swallowed before quietly answering her agreement. Her hand shook, though Lady Danbury assumed she was the only one to notice, as she lifted it to place in the viscount’s.

Lady Danbury hummed in satisfaction as she allowed the two to enter the ballroom before her, Viscount Bridgerton’s perfect posture only lending to the peacocking he did as he led Miss Sharma to the dance floor. If she knew the viscount as well as she believed to, his peacocking, was less of a matter of besting Miss Sharma at their undisclosed challenge and more at having her on his arm, contrary to what he was currently telling himself. The way their eyes never strayed from one another as they readied themselves only proved her point.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Violet’s jaw drop minutely before their eyes met.

Did he willingly ask…? Her oldest friend seemed to ask. Lady Danbury nodded with a smug smile. The viscount who saw finding a wife more of a duty and chore than a chance for happiness, bewitched by a so-called spinster.

The music started and the two moved in perfect harmony. Their connection was palpable and they enchanted the room as they seemed to float through each step. Only when they began to whisper amongst themselves, a mix of bickering and flirting, did Lady Danbury notice the queen’s arrival at her side.

“What an interesting season this will be,” Queen Charlotte murmured, her smile pleased and mischievous.

“Interesting, indeed.”

[sarcasticdolphin]

todolf conservatory au if it's okay to request?

More conservatory au as requested :)

Todolf conservatory au "Hooded"

Usual power imbalance with these two. Yes, the weird hood things do exist are are used for graduate students (at least where I went to college).

I do have one more idea for this au lined up as a direct sequel to this one, but after that, I don't really have any more ideas 'on deck' for this au (as it were), so if there are particular moments of college life etc that you wanted to see in this au, sending in a more specific ask is also fine.

Cut for power imbalance and length.

The mutterings start in March, but preparations don’t really start until April. Dean Colloredo gives the same instructions he does every year. That each college does its own graduation ceremony for the graduate students. That each and every one of them is responsible for finding a member of the faculty to place their hoods on their shoulders. And that keeping your grades up is a requirement to graduate no matter what any past students might say.

That’s the official line. The unofficial one disseminates through the students like wildfire.

It’s expected that each student will ask his or her advisor to place the hood on their shoulders, but Rudolf wouldn’t dream of asking anyone other than Tod. It’s his right, really. Rudolf is his student before he is anyone else’s.

Rudolf does drag his feet about it for a few days, waiting until Tod’s office empties on Friday before broaching the topic.

“Professor.���

“Mmmm?” Tod looks up from his papers, nodding to the door when he sees Rudolf.

Rudolf shuts the door quickly, locking it. He doesn’t want any interruptions for this.

Tod’s gaze is focused on him as he shrugs off his bookbag, sitting at the chair in front of Tod’s desk. He hates this chair. Tod’s desk always feels like an uncomfortable wall between them when they sit like this.

“Tod.” He does remember to use the professor’s name. They are alone. But he doesn’t know how to ask the question. A dozen different versions run through Rudolf’s head, but they all seem wrong.

“Rudolf.” Tod’s hand is gentle on his shoulder. Grounding. The professor must have rounded the desk while Rudolf was lost in thought. Rudolf stands in a fluid motion at a tap to his shoulder. They’ve done this little dance before. Tod’s warm hand guides Rudolf around the desk before he sits back in his chair, even as Rudolf half sits on Tod’s desk.

The papers don’t look like some variety of sheet music, as so much of Music Theory usually is. They look like-

“Geography?” Rudolf glances at his professor. “Are you covering for a Geography class?”

“No.” There’s no anger in Tod’s tone. No reproach, but that is the end of that line of the conversation. 

Rudolf takes a deep breath. As much as he likes just basking in Tod’s presence, he did come here for a reason. “Graduation is soon. Dean Colloredo said we should start finding a professor to be the one to hood us.”

Tod is almost smiling, his head just tilted to the side.

“He also said that we should probably ask out advisors, but…” Rudolf trails off.

“You don’t want to ask your advisor.” Rudolf nods.

“I would much rather it be you that puts my hood on.” An understatement if ever there was one. Rudolf doesn’t even know if he could imagine anyone else doing it.

Tod flows to his feet and takes a step toward Rudolf, his fingers coming to brush against Rudolf’s chin, to guide it as he desired. The gentle kiss to his temple is all it takes for Rudolf to relax. Why was he worried?

“I don’t want to cause drama. Dean Colloredo strongly implied we should ask our advisors.” And for all Rudolf was unquestionably Tod’s student, Tod was not technically Rudolf’s advisor. Rudolf was an organ student. He had an organ professor as his advisor.

“Relax.” Rudolf melts at Tod’s words, nuzzling his hand as a cat might. “Your hood is mine to place, Rudolf. There won’t be drama. I’ll make sure of it.”

And at his words, Rudolf knows it will all be alright. “Thank you.” His voice sounds small, but he feels so safe. Tod’s lips brush against his temple once more. A promise.

—----

The rehearsal is awkward. There are only a dozen students in all, and it should be a simple affair. File in order to the stage. Kneel on the kneeler. Get a hood draped over you. Have your name announced. Walk off the state.

But with a department so small the order of steps is amended. They aren’t using a grand stage - not enough students. A medium-sized conference room is serving in place of some great arena. The kneeler is more of a low stool with a cushion on it - there is an official kneeler that they will use on the real day, but the real one is in use so they are making do for the rehearsal. It’s not strictly necessary for everyone - Tod is enough taller than Rudolf so they don’t particularly need it, but one of the pair of trumpet majors must be over two meters and his advisor is barely 150 centimeters. They make an interesting pair to see. 

Rudolf accepts a few condolences as he takes his place in line for the little rehearsal. His advisor - the actual one on file with the registrar - had died of a sudden but not unexpected heart attack. He hadn’t exactly been a young man and had smoked more than a pack a day for much of his life. So there was no issue with Tod stepping in. In fact, at least as Tod had recounted it, Dean Colloredo had managed to thank him through gritted teeth for stepping in at the last minute. 

He’s at the front of the line soon enough, then kneeling on the rickety little stool. They don't have the hood yet, so Tod’s hand goes to his shoulder, and Rudolf has to consciously make sure he doesn’t lean into it. 

Tod’s fingers are calling him to his feet with a subtle tap a moment later, and Rudolf shuffles off to stand in front of whichever administrator is standing in for the dean before taking his place back in line.

—------

The hood is something of a disappointment when Rudolf gets his. Not really a proper hood, just a stylized one that is more a piece of fabric than anything else. The robes too aren’t what he expected. Lightweight. Cheap. They’ll play the part well enough when it comes to it, but some part of Rudolf had expected a proper hood and heavy black fabric.

The ceremony itself is brief. They are all called up, each after the other, to kneel and be hooded before receiving the piece of paper from Dean Colloredo. The faculty robes, at least, are interesting - a mottled assortment of colors, proclaiming where each professor had come from. Vivid reds and brazen yellows abound, but so too are deeper colors - blacks and blues and greens. Tod’s are the deepest of all, and combined with his blonde hair he looks more like an angel than any man - his robes darker than any shadow, his hair more a halo than anything else. He’s beautiful. 

Rudolf’s own hooding goes smoothly, Tod’s hands sure and effortless. It’s all too brief for Rudolf’s tastes, and he’s back in line soon enough.

Nothing feels different. In some ways, it seems like some archaic cultic ceremony that has been watered down over the decades and centuries. 

They go into the next conference room, where a spread of food and champagne is laid out, and it finally hits Rudolf. It’s over. He’s done. And now, an insidious voice comes within him, he’ll have to face the world. He’ll have to face his father.

Rudolf’s fingers tremble as he undoes the collar. It’s not really tight, but he needs it open. His feet what quickly, taking him away from the noise. Perhaps he can focus properly if he’s away from the noise.

Tod’s hand is warm and gentle on his back, especially through only the thin robe and a flimsy t-shirt that Rudolf had worn underneath.

“Hey.”

The question, the plea, must be written on Rudolf’s face as Tod’s hand immediately slips to the small of Rudolf’s back, guiding him away.

“My father-”

“Can wait a few minutes.”

They are out of the building before Rudolf even really realizes what is happening, and at Tod’s door what feels like only a moment later.

[qc-wiggles]

obligatory unfunny rite of spring joke (tiny panel redraw from a comic i scrapped)

[gabessquishytum]

Near my work there's a ballet conservatory in the same building as Hockey Supplies Shop and all Im sayin is. Au material.

A much Funnier au also inspired by life is a taco bell employee and a weed shop employee whose buildings share a parking lot but that doesn't read as dreamling as the other one imo lol.

I love these kinds of fics!!! I've seen figure skater + ice hockey player au but never ballet + hockey au...... that's such a concept. I also just thought about a ballet + boxer au? There's some kind of incident that means the local ballet studio and boxing gym end up sharing a space in the community for a while, which of course leads to all kinds of issues and shenanigans.

Ballet dancer Hob turned his life around when he was in juvie and they had this one barre class and he got hooked. Turns out it's a lot easier for a male dancer to come into the business late and he's managed to make a career from it.

Boxer Dream got into the sport because his little brother wanted classes and he was forced to join in. Turns out he was a natural and started winning county and national fights in the flyweight class.

Neither of them are happy to be sharing a space. The temporary boxing ring takes up half the space that Hob wants to practice in, plus he's still supposed to be teaching the kids fun class in here! Dream is equally miffed that there isn't enough room, and he has to listen to Hob’s music all the damned time while he's trying to spar. Hob is between companies at the moment so he's stressed about where he'll be working next; Dream is torn between staying as an amateur boxer or going pro. They're both stressed and only too happy to take it out on each other...

Trouble is they're also sharing a locker room, and neither of them can stop staring at each other. The solution? Fuck it all out... and it works perfectly well! They even end up fucking inside the boxing ring, and it's more than worth it even if they have to disinfect the entire place afterwards. Hob will be looking at the hand shaped bruises on his waist for a long time.

Good thing neither of them if catching feelings, though. Right? Right?????

[sourcreamuwu]

I have a bunch of headcanons about kid Scarecrow and the Mentor! (though I was thinking if it's just better to be an au but for now I stick with it) (Followed by a bunch of wonky doodles, of course!)

In his preteens Scarecrow had very little of his parents' attention, almost none for whatever reason(whether they were busy on their work or just didn't care) So most of the time he spent on his own somewhere in streets. He was a kid who climbed every tree, knew every dumpster and visited every abandoned building in his neighborhood. Had tons of bruises and wounds on his knees from falling and regularly got splinters.

He was an outcast. Other kids' parents found him weird and a bad influence. Always walking on his own, going to dangerous places. So they told their children to not hang out with him. Not like they wanted to. Because "Ew, Scarecrow! Why are you showing us a dead rat?" or "Aaahhh! Put it away! Put it away!"(Holds a jar full of beetles). All in all, he was well known in the area for his antics.

One day he found an old acoustic guitar on a dumpster (this can happen. Trust me XD) Of course such thing got his attention. He took it and tried to pull the strings and spin the qbbsbdhsshs(THE TUNING KEYS!!!). He could give up on the instrument after an hour or take it apart if a lonely old man, musician in the past, wasn't passing by(👈👈read the Mentor). He sat on the bench near Scarecrow and just chatted to him. That type of kind old people who may start chatting with random neighbours or passing by people about the weather, the books... He showed Scarecrow how to play a few chords, told some interesting facts about guitars, shared a few stories from his life. The man definitely found a way to the strange kid's heart. Scarecrow literally fell in love with the instrument and the old man wasn't lonely anymore. (Y'know , elderly very often remain alone as their family has their own lifes and it's pretty tragic and he treated Scarecrow as he would treat his own grandchild/child) Scarecrow became a frequent guest in the Mentor's flat and it became his second home. The old man let him to see his collection of vinyls, taught him to play the guitar and taught him music in general. That's when Scarecrow decided that he wanted to dedicate his life to music and go further. I think later he applied to some music conservatory and finished it well.

And Scarecrow's guitar could be his present on the graduation day :D

Now to the songs! In Shelter from the Rain Scarecrow visits the Mentor once again and tells him about his crush and gots an inspiration to write his own song for her. The main message is the love being the biggest source of creation and being a light (shelter) in trying times. And in Wastelands they argue badly because the Mentor doesn't support Scarecrow's way and tries to convince him to not go that destructive path but he refuses and believes that the old man is jealous of him having glory the Mentor didn't have in his years.

BOOM

(The post is provided to you by @codenamejudas ' ask :) )

[thesongistheriver]

So a while ago I had this plot bunny for a modern Merthur AU with a lot of queer themes and music and art and aspects pulled from BTS stuff with Colin and Bradley too, and I was like, Nah, I'll never actually write anything. And then I did, thinking the plot bunny would hop away. Now I'm six parts in and still going. And here's the fic that started it all. "Merlin and Arthur meet as conservatory students -- Merlin studying cello, and Arthur drama. They go from snarky flatmates to inseparable friends, despite their differences, and Merlin starts to wonder why being with Arthur makes him feel so different than with all his other friends. Unfortunately, when Arthur leaves for Hollywood, they slowly lose touch. Now, Merlin is a world-famous virtuoso and Arthur is back in London with some surprising news...and a lot of feelings." Separate Harmonies from Chords

[skambigbang]

Switching gears, today we’re featuring Heated Rivalry written by Beulaugh (@if-music-be-the-food-of-love), art by Polaris-artwork. A rivalry AU in the competitive world of music.

Beulaugh what was your inspiration for this story: My fic is inspired by the book Heated Rivalry by Rachel Reid. The novel follows two rival hockey players who fall in love after 7 years of secret hookups. I’ve read the book 3 times in the last year, including when I was on my SKAM pilgrimage in Antwerp and Oslo, so I wanted to bring the two worlds together. Since I know nothing about hockey, I moved it to a world I do know--classical music.  The story covers 7 years, beginning when Sobbe are 16/17, both French Horn players. The whole story takes place in the music world--from high school to the conservatory to their future careers.

Polaris-artwork what inspired your art: I love how it's a story about horn players and I love how ELU makes a cameo. 

The SKAM Big Bang starts June 21st! Follow us for more sneak peeks and share!

[xoxoladyaz]

AU-gust, Day Two: Immortals

TW: Major character death (sort of?), allusions to sex, vampires

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“Hell yeah, dudette.”

Maybe Argyle wasn’t the best person to ask about this after all, Stevie thought as she sipped on the final dregs of her vanilla latte. (Comped coffee was the only real perk to working at Starbucks. That, and spending time with Argyle.) 

Argyle hummed as he took a bite of his warmed-up pizza. “I’m pretty sure I was a dragonfly in my last life. Righteous, huh? Hey,” he said as he chewed (which, gross), “why do you ask?”

Stevie shrugged as she set her now-empty cup down. “I’ve just been having weird dreams lately.”

“Ooh, yeah, that’s totally a sign of a past life,” Argyle nodded emphatically. “What are you dreaming about?”

A man dressed in a suit but, like, an old suit, something out of one of those period pieces that her mom always used to watch when she got drunk. Long black curls that fell like water across his shoulders and back. A bejeweled cape, as black as the midnight sky.

Eyes as red as blood.

Teeth as sharp as knives.

“Hello, darling.”

“Just some guy.”

Argyle quirked his eyebrow as he took another large bite of pizza. “Just some guy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

No.

A manor in the far distant European countryside, teeming with life – or, rather, filled with a wide circle of those just like him: alluring, red-eyed and cold. Voices that lilted like music. Opulent rooms filled with beautiful people (if they were, in fact, people), entire ballrooms filled with nobility but she was not one of those guests: no. 

She was family.

And no matter the pedigree or riches of the hopeful young women that entered those rooms, his eyes never strayed from her.

“Was he, like, your boyfriend or something?”

Darkness broken by candlelight. Silken sheets, cool to the touch. Her skin on his skin that was cold, so cold, it should have been warm but her racing blood made up for it.

“Darling.”

“My one.”

“My only.”

“My love.”

And then, the soft bliss of ecstasy.

“I don’t know, something like that,” Stevie shrugged, her eyes nervously darting away from Argyle. “It just – it felt so real, you know?”

“Yeah? What part?”

Meeting in a garden – or was it a conservatory? Perhaps a shop along the street? Wearing a dress that she wouldn’t be caught dead in today (mainly due to the huge, layered skirts and corset.) A crooning voice holding a handkerchief out to her – “I believe this belongs to you” – and the owner’s smile setting her chest ablaze.

The blur of time in those gilded halls: dancing, laughing, making love, eating and drinking and being merry. Wishing in that moment, in that dream, that she could just stay there forever and ever.

The cold kiss of the blade as her father withdrew it from her chest. No apologies, only that they “could not risk it.” A roar of rage followed by the cool splatter of her father’s blood on her face.

Those same cold hands that grasped at her, murmuring prayers that she’d believed he’d forgotten.

“It’s okay, my love.”

“No, no,” her love’s voice swore as he tucked her head underneath his chin. “This is not the end! I will not allow it.

“I will find you again someday.

“I promise you that.”

“All of it.” She looked up and met Argyle’s eyes. “Kind of wish it was real.”

“Wishes are powerful things, man,” Argyle nodded solemnly. “Whoever this guy is, he’s going to come back to you. I can feel it.”

Stevie can’t stop herself from smiling. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Argyle grinned back at her before shoving the last of his pizza into his mouth. “I’m catching those energies big time.”

“You’re going to be catching something else if you two don’t head back onto the floor,” Keith interrupted, sticking his head in the door. “Your mandatory fifteen is up.”

“Pretty sure we’ve only been back here for ten.”

Someone hit the service bell near the register. Keith quirked his eyebrow at Stevie, completely unimpressed. “Well?”

Stevie shot Argyle a look before standing up. Argyle, bless his heart, was too sweet to ever say something rude to Keith. (Stevie’s not, but she sure as hell doesn’t want to lose this job.) “Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,” she muttered, and she threw her emerald-green-corporate-mandated apron over her clothes. Keith barely moved out of the way, meaning she got a whiff of his perpetual nacho-cheese stink on the way to the register, and she barely had time to swallow down her disgust before passing through the swinging doors and entering the main room.

“Sorry about that,” Stevie said as she crossed over, quickly adjusting her nametag before glancing up. “How can I - ”

The man is dressed in a pair of torn yet obviously expensive black jeans with a matching black linen shirt. His leather jacket is as black as the midnight sky. Long black curls that fall like water across his shoulders and back shine underneath the store’s fluorescents. His eyes have an almost reddish tint, and when he smiles, his teeth are as sharp as knives.

“Someday,” Stevie breathed back to her love, the last word she spoke before diving into the darkness that follows life.

Someday. 

“Hello, darling.”

It looks like someday is today.