#overheard in the rising stones

[windupmyrie]

[cherry-leclerc]

all it takes ☆ mv1

genre: humor, fluff, angst

word count: 1k

cherry here!... i know it’s been a while - and i’m sorry! - but i hope a small drabble makes up for it! hope you guys like it!

Where Max doesn’t believe love exists for him until he finds his way to you. 

Often, there would be times where Max wondered if there existed the possibility that something was wrong with him. Unlike him, his friends would fall into loving relationships - marriages, even - and he was just sort of…stuck.

At first, he really couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t really worry, either. Until one day. 

“Max,” he stutters as he gently shakes your hand. You radiate so much happiness and innocence in life that it had him intrigued. 

It was a Friday night and he had agreed for drinks with Daniel and Checo to celebrate…God…he can’t even remember. He had kept to himself, occasionally jumping into the conversation that flowed between the other two RedBull drivers. 

He hadn’t noticed you; the Australian had. 

“Poor girl. She’s just trying to get a glass of water.”

Angling his head to look back towards the bar, he sees you. The way you keep raising your hand as if you were back in elementary school, waiting to be called on. To be noticed. The way your dress keeps rising up in the process. His breath hitches. 

“She’s fine.”

“Oh. You’re hitting on her!”

“That’s a first,” Checo teases as he takes a sip of whiskey. Max blushes.

“I-I’m not! All I said is that she’ll be fine - she’ll get her drink eventually.”

“It could happen a lot faster if you go over and help her out. C’mon.”

It took a bit of convincing, but reluctantly, he agreed. The Dutch tried to hide his nervousness with a smile. As he got closer, he made sure to wipe his sweaty palms against his jeans. 

“Hi.”

The moment you look up at him. He knew he messed up. 

“Listen, man, I’m not looking for a one night stand, so…shoo.”

Suddenly, he’s reminded of why he never bothers to try. Swiftly, you go back to ignoring him as you pick up on your mission. He narrows his eyes, clearing his throat before slamming his hand down against the shiny wood. 

“Can I get a glass of water, please?”

The bartender nods as he fills one up and slides it to the blue eyed boy before turning back to face greedy customers. Without a single smile, Max just hands it to you before waking off. You frown, bringing up the glass against your lips. 

“So much sexual tension. I could tell from all the way here.” Max flips Daniel off.

“Sexual tension my ass. She was a snarky little-”

“Hi.”

-

“Whoopsie! My bad!” Feverishly, you bend down to pick up Crofty’s microphone as you hurry to hand it back before continuing your run towards the podium. Moments like these would always feel surreal and you can’t help but feel fortunate to be a part of all this. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse m-”

“Can’t you see she’s trying to get through?”

As soon as you make eye contact with the man who makes your world flip upside down, a smile slips onto your lips. Crushing him into a tight hug, you bury your face into his race suit. 

“You did it! You did it! Oh my God-”

“I’m used to it by now.”

You narrow your eyes at him as you lightly slap his chest. “Don’t do that, Emilian.” Heat rushes up to the Dutch’s cheeks as he looks around to see if anyone overheard. And there’s just no way the attention wouldn’t be on him. A Championship is all it takes.

“Oke, oke, that’s enough.” He lowers himself to whisper into your ear. “Do I get a prize or something like that?” 

“We’ll see.”

-

“All it took was two years.” Daniel leans back against his chair as he stares back at you and Max with wide eyes. “Two nasty years and suddenly there’s no more stone cold heart.” Making sure to grab your hands across the table, he rubs the diamond in deep thought before looking back at you. “How did you do it?”

“Pussy. That’s how.”A sharp gasp escapes past Kika’s lips as she punches Pierre’s arm. The Frenchman hisses in pain as he scoots away.

And up to this day, it still remains a mystery. As some cruel joke, your fiancé would joke and say that it was some sort of black magic. The joke later had to be retired due to Yuki getting goosebumps after a night of research.

Not funny, you would point out as you console the Japanese boy who sits next to his bright laptop.

It’s not my fault he believes it!

He believes everything, you know that, Emilian!

Stop it with that.

Brushing his long fingers against the nape of your neck, he smiles probably the truest version he was ever capable of showing.

“Her heart is pretty easy to love.”

-

“Pink or blue?” Tossing over to face you and your wedding sketches - that honestly looked like a plot of how to get away with murder - he groans. This isn’t a baby shower, love. Kicking him underneath the covers, you cover your eyes as the stress finally gets to you. “It’s a summer wedding! It would be nice! A pastel perhaps or maybe neon - ew no.” 

He’s about to laugh until he notices droplets sliding down your arms. Almost immediately, he sits up with urgency as he brushes your hair softly. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Blue. Let’s do blue.” No. It’s stupid. And ugly. He winces as he kisses your shoulder. “It’s not!”

“Yes it is!” Bloodshot orbs stare back at him as you breathe heavily. “Daniel said it, Lando said it, God - even Pierre! Since when does he have better taste than us?” 

“Pierre has the mind of a newborn, how would he know?” As soon as you crack a smile, he eases up. “If you don’t like either, then we could try coming up with something new. How about green?” Your smile drops as you wail against his arms.

“That’s even worse! You’re lucky I love you.”

-

“All it took was a fight for you both to call off the wedding?”

Staring blankly at the wall, Max shrugged. Everything almost seemed to serve no purpose if you weren’t a part of his daily life. He had gotten so used to having you around and bouncing off the walls like a kid who had too much sweets. Where had it all gone wrong? He doesn’t even know.

“Her heart is pretty good at holding a grudge.”

[novaursa]

You are an absolutely amazing writer and I adore all your stories.

If your requests for short stories are still open, I would like to request one with Cregan Stark and Targaryen reader where she is pregnant with their first child and gets jealous because Cregan is being secretive and she catches him few times talking to some of his closest men and mentioning an unknown female name. One day she can't take it anymore and confronts him. It turns out he found injured pregnant female direwolf and was taking care of her and her pups which he wants to gift to their child. (It would be fun if reader has already dragon but bonds with direwolf mom as well).

Daisy

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Heavy with your and Cregan’s first child, you get suspicious when your husband starts to sneak out to see Daisy. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is bonded with Silverwing. For more of my works, visit my blog. The first list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

You pace back and forth, hands resting on the swell of your belly, anxiety bubbling like a cauldron on a fire. Your gaze drifts to the furs on the floor of your chambers, the large bed that feels far too empty most nights as of late, and the flickering light of the hearth that does little to soothe the unease gnawing at your mind. Cregan has been… distracted. He leaves early in the morning, returns late, his excuses as thin as the northern air.

And Daisy.

You’ve overheard him whispering that name, hushed and guarded, always to his most trusted men. Every time you approach, the conversation stops abruptly, like the snap of a trap. It's enough to make any woman suspicious—especially a woman heavy with child, swollen with not only your firstborn but a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and perhaps a bit of jealousy.

"Silverwing," you murmur, glancing toward the small window. Though your beloved dragon isn't visible from the Keep, you know she’s nearby, perched on the cliffs, her silver scales glinting in the pale sun. "Do you know what he’s up to?" But if she does, she offers no response.

You frown. Even your dragon seems to be in on this secret. Traitor.

Another morning arrives, and Cregan departs before dawn breaks. The soft murmur of his voice filters through the stone walls as he speaks to his men again, and you catch it—Daisy.

That’s it. You’ve had enough. It’s time for answers.

You pull a thick cloak around your shoulders and storm down the stone corridors of Winterfell. The biting northern wind whips at your face as you march toward the stables, where Cregan is often found before heading into the woods. Your feet, swollen and heavy, protest with every step, but nothing can stop you now.

There he is, standing with a few of his men, his tall figure unmistakable even through the morning mist. You watch as they exchange low words, but the moment he spots you, they scatter like children caught stealing sweets. You fix Cregan with a glare that could burn the snow around you.

"What is going on, Cregan Stark?" you demand, hands on your hips, the weight of your belly only adding to the intensity of your stance. "And who is Daisy?"

He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by your sudden confrontation. "Daisy?"

"Yes, Daisy," you repeat, not giving him a chance to deflect. "I’ve heard you speaking about her. And don’t lie to me, Cregan, I’m pregnant, not deaf."

He opens his mouth, closes it, and then rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize. "Y/N," he begins slowly, "it’s not what you think."

"Oh, it never is," you snap, your voice rising. "You're sneaking around, speaking in hushed tones, all while I’m here, waddling about, wondering if my husband has taken to… to some northern woman!"

"Some—" Cregan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usually serious expression cracks into a brief smile. He quickly wipes it away, knowing well enough that your temper is not to be tested right now. "No, no, love. You’ve got it all wrong."

"I do, do I?" you huff. "Then explain. Who is Daisy?"

There’s a pause, then he sighs, realizing there’s no more avoiding this. "Follow me."

Still seething, you follow him into the woods just beyond the walls of Winterfell. The snow crunches under your boots, and the cold air stings your cheeks. You consider demanding answers again, but before you can open your mouth, Cregan stops beside a small thicket, gestures for you to come closer.

He kneels, parting the branches, revealing a small, hidden hollow where something stirs. Your breath catches as you peer inside.

Lying there, curled up with her pups, is a massive female direwolf. Her fur is thick and silver, speckled with dirt and a few patches of blood—recent wounds from a hunt gone wrong, it seems. But even in her injured state, she exudes strength, a fierce protectiveness as she shields her young.

"This is Daisy," Cregan says softly. "I found her a few weeks ago, injured and alone. Her pack must’ve been killed, but she survived with her pups. I’ve been taking care of them, bringing them food, tending to her wounds."

You blink, feeling the confusion melt into something else. "...You’ve been sneaking out to care for wolves?"

"Aye." Cregan chuckles lightly, glancing up at you. "Not just any wolves, love. I wanted to surprise you. I thought… a direwolf pup would be a fitting gift for you and our child. A symbol of the North, something to protect the little one, like Silverwing does for you."

Your heart softens as you watch the direwolf, her eyes meeting yours for a moment. "So… you weren’t keeping secrets from me about another woman?"

Cregan grins, a lopsided, boyish smile that makes your irritation melt away. "No. Only Daisy here."

You cross your arms, feeling more than a little foolish now, though your pride won’t let you admit it outright. "And why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says, rising to his feet and wrapping an arm around you. "But you caught on quicker than I expected."

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. "You know what’s worse? Silverwing knew, too. She didn’t say a word."

Cregan laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Ah, dragons and direwolves—more loyal to each other than to us, it seems.

You huff, but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face as you lean into him, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the chill. “Next time, Cregan Stark, no more secrets. Wolves, dragons, or otherwise.”

“Agreed,” he murmurs, his hand resting on your belly. “I’ll share everything with you from now on, Y/N.”

As you both stand there, watching the direwolf and her pups, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. The North, with its biting winds and endless snow, feels a little warmer now—filled with the promise of new life, both yours and the wild creatures that will grow beside your family.

"Perhaps we'll name our child Daisy," you tease, elbowing him gently.

Cregan groans. "Gods, no. One Daisy in this family is enough."

[robo-writing]

One Year Later

Summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend for your first year anniversary, needless to say he enjoys your gift very much.

Tw: Public sex, MDNI. Read on Ao3 Credits for dividers go to @cafekitsune

It’s been a year since you’ve met your boyfriend for the first time, the stars must have aligned in your favor because you’re still wondering how the hell you managed to catch his attention.

Not once did you ever think he was paying attention to you, the girl sat in the back with her nose buried in whatever novel is trending. Hell, the only reason you even noticed him is because it was impossible not to, he looked straight out of a romance novel, broad in all the right places with a jawline set in stone. But he also looked like he could kill you if he stared long enough.

He’d show up each week to order coffee, along with two equally large men in tow. Your attention only piqued after you noticed they kept returning, and after a couple weeks you overheard them bickering, the one with the scorpion tattoo referring to them as brothers. 

Honestly, even if you never had a chance to meet them before, they sure argued like it.

Just watching them was entertaining, even if you did feel a bit guilty about staring. You’d pretend like you weren’t of course—

“You know, if you want to say something you could just ask.”

—but you suppose you weren’t as subtle as you thought.

You nearly scream in shock, barely covering your voice as one of his brothers suddenly appears at your side. 

“Oh! I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes, holding his hands up in surprise. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I apologize.”

Whether or not he meant it didn’t stop your sudden rise in heart rate. “Nearly gave me a heart attack…“

He smiles sheepishly. “I suppose I deserve that. But really I’m here on behalf of my brother.”

The young man, who introduced himself as Tomas, sat next to you gleefully and mentioned that his brother had his eyes on you for a while. Apparently he was simply too shy to talk to you, a statement you heavily doubted.

“Shy? Him?” You ask, eyeing the scowling man from across the room. “You sure we’re talking about the same person?”

“I’m certain of it. He might look intimidating but he’s honestly not as bad as people think.”

You raise your eyebrow.

“...Okay, maybe he can be a bit intense at times, but I’m serious! I’ve grown up with him my whole life, he doesn’t have many interests but I’m telling you now: He likes you. The only reason he comes here anyway is to see you—“

“Tomas.”

It feels like the temperature drops a couple degrees. You’re not sure when the larger man started listening in to your conversation, but Tomas is quick to leave, meaning you’re now face to face with this very tall stranger for the first time. You want to greet him, but the frown on his face deters you.

“Pay him no mind, my fool of a brother is far too talkative for his own good,” he says, glaring at the young man's fleeting form. “Do not listen to him.”

Deciding that you might as well take your chances, you blurt out: “Is it true?”

He looks at you once, twice, trying to decipher your words. After a moment of thought, he speaks. 

“What if it was?”

Your heart flips. “Well, if it was, I would ask you to sit down? If you want to, that is.”

You nearly do a double take when he does. He introduces himself as Bi-Han, and once you pick your jaw from the floor you introduce yourself, trying to push your nerves to the side before you scare him away. Hell, you're still trying to register the fact that he’s actually here, talking to you.

If you paid attention, you’d see his brothers smiling from outside the store.

A conversation turned into two, then three. Neither of you notice his brothers leave the store, and the only indicator that time has passed is when the store manager kindly informs you that they’re going to close the shop soon. The sunlight slowly fades through the windows, and you both agree that you enjoyed each other’s company.

The next day you show up, and an hour later he did too, and so the cycle repeated until it was an unspoken rule that every week you’d show up and talk to your heart's content. Sometimes it would be about the most mundane things, other times you'd share bits and pieces about your lives. That’s how you learned about his lifestyle as a biker, how he inherited his fathers name and his gang, how he and his brothers are basically micro celebrities in the biker space, and out of pure curiosity you asked if he could take you riding one day.

Stoic as you’ve seen him, it’s the first time you actually see him smile, unburdened and unrestrained. “I can, should you wish for it.”

That same day was a first for the both of you; It was the first time Bi-Han let someone ride with him, the first time you’d ever gotten on a motorcycle, and the first time you found out what his lips felt like against your own. 

It’s been a year since and you two are happier than ever, so you decided that in honor of your first year a celebration was in order, an idea that Bi-Han was more than welcome to entertain.

What you didn’t tell him was the pretty little number you’d bought just for your date. One reservation later (all of which was paid with his card, of course) and you’re ready to surprise your boyfriend.

His arrival is announced by the roar of his engine, the familiar view of his sleek bike slowing down at the curb and coming to a full stop. One leg over the other he gets off, pulling his helmet to reveal his face, a hum of approval as he strides towards you.

"I see you went shopping."

A warmth fills your chest at his approval, heartbeat picking up speed when he comes closer. Hungry eyes linger on your chest, the sweetheart neckline doing little to hide your cleavage before moving further down, from the curve of your body to where the dress stops just short of your mid-thigh. He plays with the bow at the front between two fingers, approving of what he sees with a tilt of his head.

“Do you like it?” 

It’s a naive question in hindsight, but you ask anyway. He shakes his head, a smug little curve at the edge of his lips. 

“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”

You can't help the grin that spreads across your face. 

"I should hope so,” you whisper. “I bought it for you."

"For me?" he replies, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I'm flattered."

His voice drops an octave, a sound nearly as rumbling as the engine of his motorcycle. His eyes still haven't left the hem of your dress.

He sighs and finally looks back at your face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this…distracted before.

“I suppose that I should repay your gift in kind.”

Bi-Han is not one for PDA, so it's a surprise when he pulls you in close. Even more shocking is when you can feel his desire against your thigh, and it only makes you excited for what lies in store. The anticipation sits heavy on your chest.

As he pulls you closer to the curb you think to yourself that this dress was more than worth the price.

"Bi-Han," You ask, stopping just short of the bike. "I thought we had a reservation—"

"Forget the date," he growls, picking up his helmet. "If you don't want me to take you right this second, get on."

You didn't need to be told twice. 

You don't miss how roughly he handles you onto the backseat, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso as he gets on. The hard muscle underneath his black shirt is pulled taut at your touch, as if your very fingertips burn, growing tighter when those same fingers wander even further, just barely teasing at the line of his belt.

“Be careful where you place your hands dear.” he says.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you reply.

You don’t see his face under his helmet, but you can hear his laughter, no, feel it as he presses the ignition.

“You’ll soon find out.”

A moment later and the engine roars to life. Your hands stay right where they are.

At the third red light your hand moves to his thigh and you hear him groan in response.

Minutes later Bi-Han pulls over. 

And now—

He grabs you with both hands and pulls you away to the nearest alleyway. Only minutes away from his house and he holds you against the stone wall, swallows your complaints between his lips and hisses between clenched teeth.

Couldn’t wait any longer.

Impulsive and impatient, two words he’s never associated himself with, but how else could he describe his current state? Making out in an alleyway, grinding against each other like a pair of hormonal teenagers, how you shiver under his touch and let him play with you to his heart's content. You make him feel like this, the pretty girl that caught his eye at a coffee shop of all places. You make him feel—

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his erection against your thigh. “God—”

You swallow his noises greedily, fingers framing his chiseled face as his tongue slips past your teeth. Exploring, claiming, a kiss that leaves you boneless in his hold, grabbing at his shirt to keep steady.

“This—” Bi-Han grunts against the seam of your lips. “—is your fault.”

He’s not wrong.

You simply can’t help yourself, like a kid in a candy store. A curiosity that bleeds from you, raw and unchained. When you saw the garment hanging on the rack your first thought wasn’t how good it would look on you, but how Bi-Han would react when he saw you in it.

Your imagination does no justice to reality.

You couldn’t help yourself—from the moment he walked onto the curb you know you had him hooked. You even wore your nicest lipstick, the one that draws him closer to you, the one you know he loves to kiss you in because it tastes like cherries.

The same shade that’s currently smeared on both your lips.

Your lips curl into a smile, provocative. “I know.”

A wolf masquerading as a sheep. You think maybe he likes that about you.

He mumbles against your skin when he grinds his thigh between your own. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” He huffs, lips at the column of your neck. 

Your soft chuckle is answer enough. 

A noise escapes him as well, something between a moan and a laugh. “Just what am I to do with you?”

As cold as he may seem you know Bi-Han to be anything but. The care he puts forth towards you makes you feel safe, secure, a tenderness that is ever-present. He’ll hold you close, whisper sweet nothings before showing you just how much you mean to him.

This is not that. This is something else entirely.

Possessive in all aspects, his touch akin to a hunter who’s finally caught their prey. His desire morphs into a hunger, a craving that can only be satisfied by you. He chases your lips, biting lightly as his large hand squeezes at your neck, holding you in place. He explores the inside of your mouth, tongues dancing in sync, groaning when your lips part further and he’s allowed to indulge in your taste.

It’s so much different than his usual pace. Any other day he’d be content to pick at you piece by piece, watch you fall apart in his hands as he watches. Calculated, tactical even, but this is anything but. 

It’s sloppy, and you love every second of it. 

All spit and tongue, he holds your face with both hands and breathes you in until his lungs burn for air and even then he holds you close, barely a second apart before he dives back to taste your kiss-bruised lips.

“So beautiful,” he sighs, forcing you to look up at his lust-blown eyes. “and all mine.”

You nod shakily before his mouth descends on you once more.

He mouthes greedily at the skin your attire so graciously presents to him, teeth nibbling at the swell of your breasts until your skin is littered with his mark. Your fingers run through his silky black locks, hair falling to his shoulders as you guide his head closer and bite back the noises that threaten to spill from your lips.

Various shades of red bloom against your supple skin, some becoming a shade of purple you’ve come to associate with the stoic biker. Proud of his work, wandering hands move lower until they play with your hemline, reaching until they palm the inside of your thighs, possessive. Eventually he pulls away, staring you down with lust-blown eyes. They fall to your face, to your legs, and back again.

"Bend over,” He says urgently. “Let me see you.” 

You do so without a second thought, turning to face the wall behind you. Slowly you present yourself, raising your dress with a shake of your hips, letting the warm summer breeze graze over your exposed ass. For a moment you become worried; you're in public, anyone could see your current state of undress, the way your legs happily part for your boyfriend. 

Any doubts you have are soon quelled by Bi-Han's touch. The excitement far outweighs your anxiety.

His large hand reaches to caress your backside, playfully pulling and snapping your underwear against your skin. You gasp at the sting, only to sigh in content when his fingers prod at the wet spot that sticks to your sex, drinking in the sight of his fingers glistening with slick. 

You wish you could see Bi-Han, because the noise he lets out is filthy.

“This wet already, and I’ve barely touched you...” he says lowly. “Tell me, was this your plan all along? To tempt me?”

His fingers press a little harder and you gasp, rocking against him before his other hand reaches forward to still your hips. With a click of his tongue that same hand comes down hard against the soft skin beneath it, the sound echoing in the empty alleyway. You gasp in shock before he stills you once again.

“Behave. I want you to answer me first, how long were you waiting for me to fuck you?”

You whine at the lack of friction before answering. “All day..“

“I can tell,” he chuckles darkly. “You’re practically dripping—“

He taps his fingers against your exposed pussy once, twice, before he spreads your juices with his fingers. First his thumb, then his forefinger, your head bows with a sigh as he plays with your folds to his heart's content. You whine again, trying your best to chase his fingers but the hand at your hip is a weight, keeping you in place. He watches your futile attempt and laughs once more, this time letting the tip of his finger just barely press into your entrance as you huff in frustration.

He can’t help but let out a satisfied hum at your wanton display. “You should see yourself. How easily you open your legs for me.”

Your brain slowly turns to mush, the combination of his deep voice and teasing digits making you lose your sense of self. You rise to your toes, trying your best to entice him to do something, anything.

“Bi-Han,” you whimper, letting out a cry when he indulges you. One thick finger curls inside you knuckle-deep, back arching from the wall as he slowly rocks his hand against your pussy. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, so much more fulfilling that it sends you into a frenzy. 

“That’s it, look at you,” he draws out, pressing against the spot that has you moaning just that bit louder. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You sound so sweet, barely able to mumble out a response. “Yes, yes—“

You bite at your hand and still you can’t help the occasional sigh that forces itself from your body. A squeak of pleasure escapes you when he adds another finger, stroking your insides and enjoying the abundance of juices that drip against your thighs and leaves his hand a soaked mess. 

Truly you look your best when you’re below him. Spread out and wanting, a view he could spend the rest of his life looking at and never grow tired. Your pliant body sandwiched between him and the wall, the bulk of him pressed behind you so you can feel how much larger he is, how easily he overpowers you. A wall of muscle, unmoving as his fingers stretch you apart.

Your breath stutters, a high pitched sound erupting from your throat. “Bi-Han, ohmygod—“

It becomes harder and harder for you to keep quiet, your legs shaking from the speed of his fingers. The air is filled with the wet squelch of his digits working against your needy pussy, a sound that Bi-Han makes certain to taunt you with.

“You are lucky we are hidden well,” He says huskily, making sure to curl his fingers in just the right spot to have your back arch further, walls fluttering against his thick digits. “Just imagine if anyone else heard you.”

The idea of anyone else being privy to your noises stirs jealousy in his heart, fingers increasing their pace. “But then again you would like that wouldn’t you? Flaunting yourself in public like this, I bet you would enjoy being seen as the needy little thing you are.”

This is torture. You struggle for breath, a heat blooming in your chest and radiating into every fiber of your being. “N-No, I wouldn’t—“

“And why is that?” He says, biting at the shell of your ear.

“Because I only want you,” you moan. “just you.”

You sneak a glance towards Bi-Han’s face, his normally stoic expression replaced with one of debauchery. The difference is night and day, smirking at your disheveled form stretched out before him. His gaze is cruel as it passes over your body, taking in each shudder, every yelp as he plays with you until he’s satisfied.

His fingers brush against your g-spot and you nearly scream. The sounds that escape you are shameless, accompanied by the slick noises of your pussy. Your mind slowly becomes blank, only the thought of a slow-building pleasure at the forefront of your mind.

Your words are accented with lust, almost drooling. "Bi-Han, more, please—"

He shows no signs of stopping, mocking your whimpers in a cruel voice. “God, you’re so pathetic. I’ve barely given you my fingers and you’re already begging—”

The air is punched out of you when his fingers leave your drenched heat and play with your engorged clit, leaving you a limp mess. He’s forced to hold you steady as your legs wobble, shaking like a leaf as your breathing becomes heavier and heavier.

Closer, closer, faster, moremoremore—oh god.

Bi-Han thinks you’re enchanting, the sound of you coming undone a melody to his ears. He takes you as far as you can go, then even farther, tests your limits as he holds you firm

“Bi-Han, Bi-Han, Bi-Han—!”

You don’t need to say it, he already knows. He knows when you push back against his hand, and he knows when you arch your back so his large fingers can graze against that one spot that has you keening, begging for more, more. 

“So well behaved, are you going to come for me?” 

You shakily nod your head, biting at the soft flesh of your hand to stop yourself from letting the entire block know you’re being fucked stupid.

“Good,” he says. “don’t.”

Just when you’re about to lose yourself, he stops. His fingers still, leaving your pussy completely, empty and waiting.

“Nonono—“ You complain, whine for his touch and chase his ministrations. Your hips push back, desperate for more. “Come on, don’t tease me, please—“

His hand pulls your hair, your head forced back as he growls in your ear. “But it’s fair for you to do it to me, right?”

He bunches up the loose fabric in his hands, as if to prove a point. “You walk around like this knowing I would see you, knowing how I would react—I thought this is what you wanted? My reaction.”

His harsh tone makes you stop in your tracks, despite the thrum of a ruined orgasm that sits in the pit of your stomach. “I—I’m sorry Bi-Han—”

“It is far too late for apologies,” he says, fingers landing a harsh slap to your pussy. You wail, running away on instinct before being pulled back by your waist. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle the consequences?”

His hands return to your body, one at your breast and the other between your legs. One roughly pinches at your nipple while the other rubs harsh circles against your clit, the overstimulation bringing blissful tears to your eyes. 

“I can’t, I can’t—“ you hiss, reach down and grab at his wrist, an action that doesn’t phase him in the slightest. His pace doesn’t slow, not for a second. “Oh god, Bi-Han—“

Index and middle finger reach up to silence you, playing with your tongue as you’re silenced. “Be quiet. Begging will do you no favors.”

It’s times like this where you remember just how cruel he can be. You should’ve known better than to think he wouldn’t punish you, but at the same time the pleasure he gives is well worth the frustration.

You struggle to keep up, moaning around his long digits as the salt of his fingertips coat your tastebuds. There’s pressure that sinks further and further into your being with each touch of your clit. Sweat clings to the both of you, a cloud of desperation hanging over you as you’re forced into complete and utter submission.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be so good—” You gag around his fingers. “Jus’ need you, please Bi-Han.”

His fingers quickly leave your mouth. You hear his zipper being undone, followed by the tip of his cock just barely gliding against your folds. Just the thought of him inside you has you forgetting yourself, shaking against his length as it soaks in your juices.

“This is what you want, right?” He breathes, chest pressed to your back. Once, twice, he slots himself right against you, lets his tip push against your clit and send shockwaves through your body but never going further. “Then obey.”

You push back, desperate for more. “Mm, I will, I promise, just please fuck me.“

“Close, but not quite.”

Bi-Han feeds off your excitement, chuckling before fisting his length against your cunt. “I’m doing you a favor, giving this—“

His cockhead glides against you, so close but yet so far. The action alone takes your breath away.

“—aching pussy of yours any kind of relief. I believe thanks are in order, wouldn’t you say?”

He phrases it as a question when the words are anything but. Your tongue passes over your lips, before uttering a delicate, downright lecherous—

“Thank you Bi-Han.”

A subtle throb against your count, the shuddering sigh that leaves him as he hunches over your body. You can’t see his reaction, but you can feel it.

“God,” Bi-Han moans, lays his full body weight on top of you and speaks directly in your ear. “Always ready for me, aren’t you?”

You’re too far off to answer, completely at his mercy. He takes pity on your sex-addled brain, gives you a moment of respite as you slowly come back from your high and languidly moves into you. His lips glide against your skin, a gentle comfort to your frenzied mind, a contrast to the ever-growing heat that spreads across your body. The only relief you’re given before his patience runs thin.

He pulls out with a hiss, slams back into your pussy and waits for you to recover before doing it all over again. The noises that leave your mouth are pornographic, barely muffled into your arm. Despite the uncomfortable position you bear it because no matter how rough he may be, you love it all the same. 

He fucks you at a brutal pace his weight pinning you down into submission, all the while muttering to himself, uncharacteristically chatty as he mutters how good you feel, how pretty you look bent over, how well you take his cock—

“Hips up darling, your legs are shaking, don’t tell me you’re tired already?”

Tired, aching, and still so fucking needy.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come—“

“No you’re not,” he says. Bi-Han’s movements go from erratic to calculated, an unrelenting tempo that makes you see stars. His fingers find your over-sensitive clit and rub, keeping you trapped in a cycle of pleasure below him. “You’re going to wait, say you understand.”

You let out a moan, only to be pulled by your hair.

“Use your words dear,” he whispers in your ear. “Say it out loud, or I’ll stop.”

You babble needily, trying to convince yourself more than Bi-Han. Tears flow freely from your eyes, sobbing through each word. “I—I’ll wait, I won’t come, I won’t come—“

“You had better not.” He gasps, before his hips return to their brutal rhythm. “I’m going to fill you up, leave you full of me—gonna leave a pretty stain on the ride home, won’t you? Then when we get home I'll take you again to make sure you feel me for days.”

[falsealicorn]

in the universe Cakepop is from, this is basically the beginning of the series, Cakepop is my "failed pinkie clone" oc who is also in this au as a B plot sorta

Discord in this universe is named Benevolence, they go by Nel, they're a representation of the calm that can be found even in chaos, although originally just it's embodiment, they found a level of self reflection and understanding the main universe discord lacked

Luna is Selene, Celestia is Solaria and has a Daymare Flame arc

Nel and Selene work together to keep the balance because Solaria became an uncaring and power seeking leader after founding Equestria

Selene found Nel encased in stone in Solaria's garden and overheard her plans to harness their chaos magic for herself

after searching, Selene found the elements of disharmony, the gems embuid with the magic used to petrify Nel

after nearly petrifying herself due to the instability of the magic in the gems, Selene freed Nel and together they petrified Solaria and put her in the center of the sun so nopony would accidentally free her

Nel and Selene figured out a way to keep the elements from falling into the wrong hands again, creating a tree of harmony to hold the elements and reverse their nature into a more stable magic

Nel feels indebted to Selene for freeing them, so they took on the role of rising the sun when it stopped rising on it's own, and Selene took on the role of rising the moon

Selene asked for Nel to be in charge of Equestria as well since it had already been founded with ponies relying on them, and Nel accepted the responsibility

do not ship them!!

that's all the lore I have for now okay byeeee

[cherriecove]

A Courtship of Politics and Passion (Part 4)

Jacaerys Velaryon x Hightower!Reader

Summary: Cannon divergence, Rhaenyra Targaryen is queen after the Dance of The Dragons. In order to secure peace and ensure her son is able to take his rightful place on the throne after her she decides to make allies out of previous enemies. Cherrie's Note: Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

Their uneasy alliance had always been fragile, but it shattered entirely the night Jacaerys overheard a conversation between Lady Y/N and a former Green sympathiser. The words—faint, but sharp enough to twist the blade in his heart—confirmed his deepest fears. For weeks, the whispers in the Red Keep had gnawed at him: doubts about Y/N’s loyalty, suspicions about her intentions. He had tried to dismiss them, to bury his unease, but now… now, the sting of betrayal burned too deep.

By the time he stormed to Y/N’s chambers that evening, fury burned through his veins, hotter than dragonfire. His mother had warned him, the court had warned him, and yet he’d fought to see her differently. The corridors blurred in his vision, his thoughts consumed by the bitter echo of her words. How could he have been so blind? How could he have trusted her?

Without a knock or word of warning, he flung open her door. The heavy oak banged against the stone wall, startling Y/N from where she sat by the hearth, her hair tumbling over one shoulder as she brushed it. The warm glow of the fire danced across her face, casting her in soft light. For a moment, she looked so serene, so innocent. But Jacaerys could see only betrayal.

She turned slowly, surprise flashing across her features before she masked it, setting the brush aside with measured calm. “What is the meaning of this?” Y/N’s voice was steady, though a wariness lingered in her eyes.

Jacaerys didn’t answer immediately. His breath came in ragged bursts, fists clenched at his sides. The words bubbled up, spilling out before he could stop them. “I trusted you,” he spat, his voice shaking with fury. “I defended this alliance, defended you, while everyone doubted. And now I find you conspiring with the very people who sought to destroy my family!” His voice cracked, raw with betrayal. “Was this marriage just a game? A way for the Hightowers to weaken us from within?”

Y/N’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing. Slowly, she stood, her posture stiff with anger. “You heard wrong,” she said, her tone edged with steel. “Whatever you think you overheard, you are mistaken.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Jacaerys barked, taking a step closer, his face flushed with rage. “I heard enough. Don’t deny it. You’re in league with them. All these months, I’ve defended you—fought against every voice telling me to turn against you. And now you stand here, daring to deny it?”

Y/N’s eyes flashed dangerously, her own anger rising to meet his. “A ploy?” she echoed, her voice sharp. “Do you honestly think I wanted this marriage? That I came here willingly, to the heart of my family’s enemies? To be treated like a viper at your feet?” She stepped closer, fury rolling off her in waves. “Do you think I have enjoyed the constant mistrust, the whispers, the accusations? I came here to stop another war, not to ignite one.”

“And yet you surround yourself with those who plotted to tear my family apart!” Jacaerys shot back, his voice shaking with hurt more than anger now. “You speak of peace, but every word, every action… all it does is stir more doubt!”

The room seemed to pulse with the weight of their words. They stood so close now, both breathing heavily, their anger barely contained, like two blades on the verge of clashing. But beneath the fury, there was something else—something simmering just below the surface, unspoken but undeniable.

Y/N’s voice dropped, the sharp edge softening as she stepped even closer. “Do you really believe I’m here to betray you, Jacaerys?” she whispered, her gaze searching his. “If you can’t trust me, then what hope is there for us? For peace between our houses? If we are to have any chance, you must trust me.”

Her words cut through the haze of his anger, leaving him standing there, vulnerable. The fury that had raged so fiercely now felt hollow, like a storm that had spent its strength. He wanted to trust her, wanted to believe that she wasn’t like the others, that she wasn’t here to tear down what his mother had fought to build. But the scars of the past ran too deep.

“I don’t know how to trust you,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I’ve been trying so hard to hold onto everything my mother built, everything she sacrificed for. But all I can see is the blood, the betrayal. I’m afraid, Y/N. Afraid of losing everything.”

Her gaze softened, the fire in her eyes cooling as she reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. The touch was light, hesitant. “You’re not the only one afraid,” she said quietly. “I am, too. I carry the weight of my family’s mistakes, just as you carry yours. But if we keep looking back, we’ll never see what’s in front of us.”

There was a long pause. The crackling fire was the only sound between them as Jacaerys looked down at her, torn between his heart and the bitter memories of war. For the first time, he allowed himself to truly see her—not as a Hightower, not as an enemy, but as someone just as burdened by the past as he was.

“And what do we do now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he feared the answer.

Y/N took a deep breath, stepping even closer until there was barely an inch between them. “We stop looking over our shoulders,” she said, her voice low. “We trust each other. We build something new… together.”

The space between them shifted—no longer filled with anger, but something far more dangerous. His heart hammered in his chest, every fibre of him aching with the tension that had built over months of mistrust and fragile hope. She looked up at him, her breath mingling with his, her gaze intense and searching, and in that moment, something broke.

Without thinking, Jacaerys closed the distance, his lips crashing against hers in a kiss full of frustration, longing, and something he could not yet name. It was desperate, raw—a collision of all the emotions they had buried for too long.

For a moment, Y/N froze in shock, but then she kissed him back, just as fiercely. It was not a gentle meeting of lips, but a battle in itself—full of the anger they had thrown at each other, the trust they were still trying to find, and the fear of what this fragile alliance might become.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, neither could speak. Their foreheads rested together, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the world around them fell away. There was no past, no future—just this fragile, stolen moment.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” Jacaerys whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “But I want to.”

Y/N’s fingers curled around his tunic, holding onto him like he was her last tether. “Then let’s try,” she whispered back, her lips brushing his once more. “Let’s try.”

And so, in that dimly lit chamber, amidst the ashes of their anger, something new was born—a tentative understanding, fragile as the first breath of spring after a long winter. Neither of them knew what would come next, but for now, they were standing together, and that was enough.

Taglist: @rafslytherin

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Ser Klatterbell the Unbidden

You’re not on his list, but he’ll scratch you out anyway

Strange winds blow as the solstice nears, and though folk take shelter by their hearths and in the company of loved ones, a new threat rises beneath the boughs of the old pine forest. A hobgoblin knight recently crossed over from fairlyland, doing the bidding of a terrible archfey of bleakest winter who takes umbridge with the local festivities.  Klatterbell is here to grinch things over, to steal presents and disrupt festivities,  to douse the hope that mortals need to get through the season, and he’s going to have fun doing it.  He and his rowdy goblin warband have the moral temperament of a stone packed into a snowball, callous sadism wrapped in the trappings of yuletide play.

Klatterbell has a list given to him by his master, the names of those causing a ruckous that threaten to disturb the winterfey’s sorrowful sleep. In the manner of most fairy-things, these transgressions are innocuous carried by the wind into the feywild :  The song a farmer hums as she feeds her chickens, a baby’s laugh playing peekaboo, children arguing about the rules of a game they just made up, the ticking of a new clock a merchant bought to decorate his office. 

The hob knight has been tasked with bringing silence to the mortal realm, specifically by finding the transgressors on his list and dragging them back to his master’s desolate dungeons. To this end, he has his minions skulking about eavesdropping, or ambushing folk on the road, demanding to know the locations of random strangers. 

For his part, the unbidden quite likes being able to thow his weight around in the mortal realm and wants to tarry there for as long as possible. He’s got a magical sack that he can stuff victims in, putting them into an enchanted slumber and making them easy to transport. While the disapearances mount Klatterbell styles himself a yuletide bandit lord, stockpiling the fine things of the season while putting off finishing his job. 

Adventure Hooks: 

Something’s a bit off at this year’s winter festival. People are avoiding their neighbours, stealing from the market stalls, getting extra raucous at the faire games, or gorging themselves in the feasting tents. The actual cause is that some of Klatterbell’s gobbish minions have disguised themselves as their victims and snuck away to the festivities, intending on indulging themselves in all the mortal world has to offer.

Theoretically Klatterbell could be something of a local boogyman, having been the cause of disappearances over years, or maybe decades as he forestalls his working vacation away from the feywild. Every winter his list gets longer and he expends the minimum effort to scratch off a few names to keep his masters happy.  What chaos then when the party finally confronts him and rescues his victims:  people who have been gone for years suddenly returned, while others more recently taken are still missing, sent off to the feywild to buy the hob time.  

In an act of utter villainy, Klatterbell and his followers have KIDNAPPED Yangle the Yulegoat, beloved feywild emissary of good cheer. Some of the kids on the edge of town saw it happen, after a group of hobs descended on their home, raided their larder, and used it as cover to ambush the visiting festive spirit. From what the children overheard, the hobs had intended to roast Yangle right then and there, but were so full up with stuffing themselves from the family’s winter provisions that they were going to have to drag the goat back to their old fortress in the darkest thicket of the snowy wood and save him for later. There’s no time to waste in raiding the goblin fortress, though perhaps if the party is clever they can disguise themselves as fey and slip in with some of the otherworldly guests invited by Klatterbell for the feast. 

Also feel free to check out the comments of this post for some holiday hijinx suggested by my followers. 

[piedpiperslists]

hi!! i was wondering if you knew/had any suggestions for hockey player jungkook? thank you!!

Hi. Here are some that I know.

* s - contains smut

Dense Ice by breadoffoxy - drabble / hockey player!Jungkook, bookworm!reader Summary: You’re at the rink waiting for Namjoon to finish practice, but two Players won’t let you study in peace.

Head Over Skates by mercurygguk - drabble / ice hockey player!Jungkook, college au Summary: Jungkook doesn’t get jealous but here you are, bringing out new sides of him.

Hotshot by jungxk - drabble / hockey player!Jungkook

Ice Me Out by taeshobipop - drabble / ice hockey player!Jungkook, childhood friends to lovers, college au Summary: The last way you expected this night to end was to have Jeon Jungkook, captain of the ice hockey team and number one hindrance in your oh-so-great life, trail after you as you leave his Christmas party.

Cold as Ice by ughseoks - one shot / wc~8.5k / enemies to lovers, ice hockey au Summary: Although you and Jungkook are teammates, you’re also sworn enemies, both on and off the ice. But when you’re seriously injured during one of your matches, Jungkook realizes that maybe the emotion he feels for you isn’t hate– it’s love.

Ego Season by sparklingchim - one shot (s) / wc~6.3k / hockey player!Jungkook, brother's best friend, college au Summary: POV: You make ur secret fuck buddy jealous. Number 7 by sparklingchim - one shot (s) / wc~3k / hockey player!Jungkook, brother's best friend, college au Summary: POV: Your jealous fuck buddy pounds you in his jersey.

Ruin the Friendship by kpopfanfictrash - one shot (s) / wc~8k / hockey player!Jungkook, friends to lovers, college au Summary: Your drunk ass best friend keeps calling you to take care of him and it wouldn’t be so awful, if it weren’t for the feelings. Over the Edge by kpopfanfictrash - one shot (s) / wc~9.1k / hockey player!Jungkook, established relationship, college au Summary: So, you’re dating. Everything is dandy, the sex is knocking your socks off, but what happens when you get in the first real fight?

The Art of War More by kpopfanfictrash - one shot (s) / wc~42.4 / hockey player!Jungkook, enemies to lovers, college au Summary: Jeon Jungkook had messed with you for the last time. That was what you thought when the hockey team – led by the insufferable Jungkook – kicked your dance team out again from your reserved room at the gym. In retaliation, you planned a prank of epic proportions and were caught in the act by none other than Jungkook himself. Before the rift between you could grow any deeper, you accidentally overheard something you were not meant to hear. Something which overshadowed even your heated rivalry. Faced with the choice between obvious wrong and teaming up with your worst enemy – you reluctantly chose the latter. But what will you do when feelings you once thought of as hatred become something decidedly… not?

There is also this, but this has Jungkook as an ex-hockey player.

Chess of Ice by jimlingss - series / ex-hockey player!Jungkook, curling player!reader Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well….and you’re his opponent.

I have this general list for more athlete/sports au in case I missed some.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Vampire!Sebastian x Reader Headcanons

🌙 He was turned about a year or so before you moved in and took over your grandfather's old and dilapidated farm. He had taken his motorcycle out to the outskirts of Zuzu City late into the night in attempts to get away from the nonsense brewing at his home only to be suddenly tackled to ground by something inhuman.

🌙 He woke up a few hours later as the sun was starting to rise over the horizon, completely dazed and dizzy while a horrible fuzziness grew in the back of his mind. As he stumbled to stand up, he rubbed at his aching neck only to fins the skin marred by a horrible bite.

🌙 Upon touching the wound, he was suddenly yanked back into reality as memories of the night prior flooded in. He had been attacked by what looked to be a vampire ripped straight out of a B grade horror movie and survived.

🌙 His phone suddenly went off, the shrill chirping rang in his head like tornado sirens. It made his temples throb and his ears to ring as everything became a little more sharp in his vision. Picking up the damn thing from the grass, he saw it was a text from his mother, the woman had been blowing up his phone all morning.

🌙 Upon his return, he bunched his hood up around his neck and shrugged off Robin's worrying questions as he retreated to his room in the basement. It was only when he locked the door and sat on his bed did he realize that the lack of light soothed his fried nerves.

🌙 He recounted everything to Sam when the blond came over later that day, but when he went to show his best friend the bite, he was stunned to find it nearly healed over. There was just a faint divot from where he had been torn into, but Sam believed him nonetheless.

🌙 He didn't tell Abigail, though. The three of them weren't strangers to the odd things that happen in the valley, and he's sure he's seen little creatures out in the woods and odd shadows near the mines. And with Abigail's record of wanting to fight everything, he wasn't going to chance it with her.

🌙 He finally came to the realization that maybe he had actually been turned into a vampire. The sun was starting to become harsher and harsher to his eyes and body to the point he developed an odd rash that only went away when he retreated back inside. He's also been getting an odd itch to go out into the night, feeling an odd pull towards Cindersnap Woods in the direction of the old stone tower to the west.

🌙 His concerns were finally cemented into reality when he was walking past the home lab as he was leaving only to hear Maru gasp in pain. The sight of blood suddenly dripping from her split palm had his stomach twisting with hunger as a sudden pain erupted in his mouth. Retreating to the garage, he caught a glimpse of himself in the polished metal plating of the motorcycle: He had fangs poking out of his gums where his normal canine teeth should be.

🌙 He did what he could to keep the urges away, but it was all just too much on him. His emotions went unchecked, his patience wore thin, his hunger was starting to drive him nuts. Normal food wasn't cutting it anymore and the burn of the cigarettes in his lungs only distracted him so much. So when he came upon an injured rabbit in the middle of the woods, Instincts he never knew he had took over and the poor thing was drained before it could even try to get away.

🌙 Ever since then, that's how he would feed. He couldn't bare to bring himself to even think about feeding from someone let alone somebody from Pelican Town. He would stalk the woods at night and drain the blood from any woodland critter that crossed his path. It went on like that for a year, his favorite spot being the abandoned farm.

🌙 So imagine his surprise when he suddenly sees a light on in the house one night and a new and unfamiliar scent sitting in the breeze. He overheard it from Sam the next day, his best friend went on about someone who took over the family farm. Sebastian's mood soured a bit, now knowing that his best spot to hunt for food would now be tarnished. He couldn't blame you though, from what Sam told him, your life was getting pretty bad.

🌙 So when he met you after a week or so, imagine his surprise when your scent nearly knocks him to his knees. You had come into the shop to ask Robin about installing a well when your scent startled him awake only for his nerves to calm immediately. You smelled good, like heaven straight to his nose. It had to be something you were wearing, there's no way a human could smell that perfect.

🌙 Something intrigued him to know more about you, the vampire often waiting around the lake late at night to catch you walking back from the mines just to talk to you a little bit. It became apparent that your scent wasn't something you were wearing, it was just you. He felt mortified when he felt saliva pool under his tongue as his jaws began to ache, his fangs pleading to come out. You just smelled so good, you just had to taste just as perfect. Right?

🌙 As you both grew closer, he found himself attracted to you, falling for you like this was some sort of dream. It almost felt wrong. It hurt when you flirted with him and he would reciprocate, it hurt when you both would accidentally brush up against each other. It hurt knowing that he was a hideous monster and you were just a human.

🌙 He's come close to fucking up multiple times in front of you. Hell, there was one time you caught him in the act but didn't actually see what he was doing. It was so late at night and he had his back turned to you. He shakily light up a cigarette as he kept the dead rabbit tight against his body as you threw a sweet little 'Goodnight' over your shoulder.

🌙 And then he fucked up. After being so careful for so long, he royally fucked up and attacked you. Your choked cry will forever haunt him as he sank his fangs into your neck. You were the first person he attacked. Sure, there's been a few small incidents with Sam, but it never resulted in him biting his best friend. But here he is, sucking the life out of his partner as you try to fight back weakly. You just tasted so good, he almost didn't pull away. Almost.

🌙 He had to yank himself away from you, panicking as he felt your pulse start to slow against his tongue. He kept you in his grip as you nearly collapsed in his arms. The way you looked up at him with those fearful eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and the way you struggled out his name practically drove the stake right through his heart.

🌙 You collapsed in his arms not soon after. He panicked, leaving you at Harvey's doorstep and pounded on the door until the doctor echoed in the dark clinic that he was coming. Sebastian hid like a coward, watching from afar as Harvey opened the door to your limp body as blood dripped from the wound in your neck.

🌙 He avoided everyone like the plague. His door remained locked for days on end. His phone was turned off, he didn't attend the festival that had passed, he didn't come to the door when Sam and Abigail knocked. Sam had to force his way in, picking the lock and marching down into Sebastian's dark hollow of a room. Sam knew what Sebastian did, but he didn't speak to his best friend like he was some kind of monster.

🌙 Imagine Sebastian's utter shock when Sam tells him that you wanted to see him. You had been released from Harvey's clinic to with a patched up neck a few days ago, the doctor still baffled about how you ended up with such an injury and managed to get to his front door. But you knew. You remembered everything.

🌙 He was hesitant at first, but when Sam threatened to yank him outside in the daylight to go see you, he relented. He came to your front door later that night, knuckles ghosting against your door only for you to open it. He felt horrible upon seeing you. A bitterness sat on his tongue as his guts writhed with worry and dread for what you were about to say.

🌙 So when you asked him if was doing better from that night, he was dumbfounded. You weren't afraid of him? Sure, you eyed him in the doorway warily, but you weren't calling him a monster. You weren't afraid of him after he fed on you forcefully? You were more worried about him being okay than the fact that he was a fucking vampire and you had a big ass bandage on your neck from where he attacked you.

[ereana]

Wriothesley X Lyney - Take my coat

Lyney bit back a curse as another cold gust of air made his legs tremble from the chill. The outfit he wore for performances was gorgeous, Chiori had truly outdone herself, but it was not what he would have chosen to wear for a lengthy evening mission. Especially a mission that involved sitting in the middle of the ass end of nowhere staking out a rundown old farmhouse.

But he hadn’t had the luxury of choice. Father’s message to him after the show had been clear; the target was moving tonight and she wanted this situation dealt with before the morning. Lyney wasn’t stupid. 

In his haste to leave he had remembered to grab his cloak off the hook, admittedly after Lynette had told him to take it as he was about to jump out a window, but even that was inadequate for the conditions he now found himself in. It was meant for short walks through the city at night not to shield him from the sharpness of the wind’s bite as he huddled against a ruined section of stone wall.

It had been two hours and the only movement had been from a lost sheep who had wandered onto the premises and started eating the overgrown grass. The urge to use his vision is growing harder to ignore but he can’t risk the light revealing his position.

He pushes down his rising irritation as best he can and tries not to think of the hot meal that his siblings would be enjoying back home without him. All of this he could have born with only the most minor grumbling if it hadn’t been for-

“What did that sheep ever do to you? Is there some sordid personal history that I should be aware of?” 

For his temporary — the word felt like a prayer for salvation — partner. 

Duke Wriothesley. Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. Prison warden. And the most insufferable man that Lyney had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

He sat near the edge of the wall, occasionally peeking his head around the side to check the scene, wrapped in his usual coat that was undoubtedly better at keeping him warm than any piece of clothing that Lyney was currently wearing.

Lyney scowls at him. Because he can. Because there’s no-one here he needs to pretend for. Because all that donning his usual mask would do was make Wriothesley try to rip it off his face. The man had an odd obsession with denying Lyney the familiarity of the persona he’d spent years cultivating; provoking and prodding him until the anger that simmered underneath erupted in full force.

“You may not be familiar with the concept of a stake out, Your Grace, but a key element is remaining quiet and undetected.” Lyney says tightly, turning his eyes back to the farmhouse even as his focus remains locked on the predator beside him.

Wriothesley looks unimpressed. “Don’t give me that. We’re far enough away that whispering isn’t going to be overheard and there isn’t anyone the bastard could be working with that could escape the pair of us.” Another breeze of night air makes Lyney’s hands shake. “So what’s the story between you and the sheep.”

“Just because you have the attention span of a toddler doesn’t mean it’s my job to entertain you.” Lyney flexes his fingers and winces at the stiffness. 

“Funny, isn’t that exactly your job.” Wriothesley shuffles closer until Lyney can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Or is the Great Magician too proud to extend his services to an ex-criminal like myself?” 

Every word is drawled out in that deep voice that sets Lyney’s teeth on edge like nothing else. The same voice that had once mocked him in the depths of that metal tomb under the waves and held his siblings’ lives over his head as a bargaining chip.

It was just his luck that the fucker they were after had to involve the Fortress; a merchant who had attempted to cheat both organisations and run away with a tidy sum. With Wriothesley’s boat being the only back-up plan that Fontaine currently had for dealing with the prophecy, Father was keen to keep things civil for the time being. When Wriothesley had demanded a joint endeavor to deal with the scammer she had acquiesced gracefully.

Lyney had bristled at his explanation where he outright stated he didn’t trust the Fatui not to take all the money for themselves but all that had earned him was an amused smirk curling across Wriothesley’s face.

I look forward to working with you Mr Lyney.

“Why are you even here? Surely there are hundreds of other guards you could have asked to do this.” He snaps, pressing back harder against the wall in a vain attempt to shelter from the wind.

Wriothesley chuckles and leans in until their shoulders brush against each other. He’s so stupidly big that he looms over Lyney even when they’re both sitting on the cold ground.

“Oh please, we both know if I’d done that you’d have the fool wrapped around your finger in five minutes flat. No, you’re too dangerous for me to give this anything less than my personal attention.” The way Wriothesley says dangerous sounds like a compliment, it feels like one with the way it warms Lyney’s cheeks.

He huffs and looks down at his hands, itching to summon a few sparks or a few cards to keep his fingers busy. The next gust of wind makes him shiver, the cold fully setting into his bones. If he gets sick he’s going to—

A heavy, warm familiar coat drops over his body. Instinctively he clutches at it, pulling it tight to his chest before reality reasserts itself and he looks over disbelievingly at Wriothesley. Who looks remarkably unbothered in only his shirt and black bandages over his forearms.

“What are you—”

“This is going to end in fighting no matter what happens. You know that. I know that. I’d rather not have to check that my partner can take care of himself or if he’s too busy shaking to properly shoot an arrow.” Wriothesley answers with a careless shug,

It’s a weak explanation and Lyney doesn’t miss the way gray eyes glint with satisfaction when he curls his fingers in the fur before twisting to put the garment on properly.

“Whatever.” He grumbles sourly, which does nothing to hide the way he wraps himself in Wriothesley’s coat, sinking into the blessed heat with a tiny sigh.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to keep waiting a little longer.

[prolix-yuy]

For the Bangathon: Snuggling spoon with Javi G or Oberyn?

Ahhhhh we love ourselves a little snuggly sexxin'! Oberyn was calling to me for this one, but it may be a little more tense than we think...

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x OFC

Position: Snuggled Spoon

Word Count: 1419 (see how these get longer the more of them I write? I have no self-control)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), fingering (f receiving), allusions to public sex, cum tasting, hate sex, Oberyn is an affectionate bastard.

Notes: A follow-up to this drabble, because I wanted to see how it all panned out.

“How are your accommodations, little scorpion?”

The infuriating voice of her captor (and failed assassination attempt) drifts through her cell bars. Remaining on her side on the floor, only a few crumpled blankets to soften the uncomfortable stone, she ignores his question. 

It wasn’t the first time the Prince had visited during her imprisonment. She’d screamed and railed against him the first time, tried to claw at him the second. Every spitfire reaction left him with a smarmy smile, standing just out of reach. He pulled little bits of information out of her each time - who sent her (a prominent family tired of the house leaders), what her plan was (to poison him and flee to Westeros), if she’d ever cum that hard with a lover she chose (silence). The game was more intriguing to him than she’d hoped, praying for his attention to drift so she could devise a way to escape. But every passing day he visits, and every day she grows wearier of her predicament.

Today, she’s done with this game. Her stomach is empty yet again, body aching, and hope waning. Her employers feign ignorance of her plan, abandoning her as she should have guessed. There was no one coming to reward her for her loyalty. 

“Oh come now, has all your fire finally burned out?” Oberyn purrs, but she doesn’t rise to his challenge. She’d overheard the guards speaking of an execution date, fast approaching. What does this sparring matter when she’s about to be erased from history? A blip only in the mind of a small few, forgotten when larger matters loom. 

Oberyn hums, then calls to a guard. Her interest piques for a moment, the rusty clank of keys and the creak of her door opening urging her to roll over and watch. The Prince, in his fine mustard robes and heavy jewelry, steps into the cell. The door closes behind him, even though the guard’s wary face hovers nearby. She sits fully, glaring up at her captor. He only chuckles, leaning back against the bars.

“So I have your attention finally,” he drawls, crossing his arms and raking his gaze over her body. They’d swapped her gauze and silk for a rough shift, the fabric barely keeping her warm in the night. The vulnerability makes her skin crawl.

“If it pleases the Prince of Dorne,” she spits, turning to lay back on her side. Her hands itch to press her thumbs into his eyes, but what good would it do? Speed up the sentence from days to minutes?

“Oh come now, little scorpion, I’ve already commended you on how much your subterfuge entertained me,” he tuts, steps light and cat-like approaching. “Easily the most fun I’ve had in months. And all our sparring over these last days. Don’t let your current state tamp out your fury. It’s the most beautiful thing about you.”

She stays firmly turned to the wall as he sits beside her, the heat of his body melting the ice along her spine. Denying the satisfaction of her relief, she bites down on her lip.

“I’ve never had such a…” he begins again, trying to win her attention for some mystifying reason, before he stops. His fingers brush against her bare arm. “You’re freezing.”

She snorts, very unladylike. “Maybe I’ll perish from the cold before my beheading.”

Suddenly she’s surrounded by warmth, eyes shooting open. The man she was conscripted to kill is now draping his robe around her, bare expanse of his chest snug to her back. His breath dances along her cheek, and try as she might a shudder loosens her limbs.

“Little scorpion, I would not have you suffer,” he says, and the somber tone drips wonder on her skin. Perhaps ill-advised, but she presses back against his blazing heat, wondering if all desert men are this scorching or if it’s only Oberyn. His palm comes up to her arm and warms her skin. A reedy sound of relief catches in her throat. 

Before she can protest his hand travels over her stomach to cup her sex. Such boldness would normally result in the loss of a hand, but at the barest brush her core aches. Much as she hates to admit it (and never would to the Prince), she had dreamt of his touch more than once.

“I can warm you much better than this,” Oberyn purrs in her ear, his wicked fingers already creeping below her shift.

“What makes you think I would want your touch, my Prince?” She tries to hold her voice steady but his fingers are already swiping at her folds.

“This,” he gloats, bringing his soaked fingers to her face. Her arousal gleams thickly. “I think you would positively gush on me again.” Without pretense he drags his fingers into his mouth, sucking indulgently. She turns and watches him, pure sin and infuriating charm. His eyes open, and by the gods, they’re ravenous. 

“Will you take what your Prince gives you, little scorpion?” he demands, and every fiber of her being is screaming to deny him, but her parted lips and slow nod betray her. He smiles wickedly, tugging his cock from his pants to slide between her clenched thighs. Passing over her weeping cunt, he props himself up to closely watch her face. 

“I have dreamt of this cunt since you gave it to me, fucked my fist at the memory of you clenching around me,” he spits out, notching his blunt head at her at her entrance. “And now, I’ll do it again. But this time, you’ll scream my name.”

With a forceful thrust he buries himself inside her, the blinding sensation of fullness and sharp pleasure driving her to tuck into herself. He tuts and yanks her back against his chest, hand loosely around her throat as he sets a toe-curling pace. His teeth scrape her ear as he pants.

“Tight, wet, perfect little thing. Did you think your beauty and wiles would keep me from seeing your true nature?” he hisses, plunging his other hand between her legs to pinch her clit between his fingers. All she can do is wail and rock against his hold, hands scrabbling back to grip his pounding hips. “I’ve had many a pleasure, indulged all my vices, but making you cum on my cock as you tried to kill me…now that was a new experience.” 

Her breath whistles out through clenched teeth, wishing her body didn’t mold to his so readily. Nails digging into his hips, he growls and nips at her skin. Her orgasm is fast approaching, cursing and praising his skill as he pointedly strokes her clit and pounds into the perfect place inside. 

“Yes, my dangerous little scorpion, all glittering and deadly, cum for me a second time. I want your cunt to only desire how well I fuck it.” A quick strum of his fingers and her body traitorously snaps around him, only held in check by his grip and the roar of his snarl in her ear. When her body laxes he manhandles her to her back, lifting her hips off the ground as he slaps into her with reckless thrusts. A few more and he pulls out, fisting his cock and mashing his lips to hers as he cums in the palm of his hand. 

His lips are full and soft, the scratch of his mustache and beard burning against her skin. He sweeps his tongue into her mouth, full and domineering, but when she presses back with teeth and a lap of her own his hips stutter between hers. They kiss messily, licking and biting and panting against each other’s mouths until he finally lifts up and looks down at her. The Prince of House Martell, flushed and satiated, eyes just as dark and promising. 

“I stand by what I said during your arrest,” he says lightly, standing and shrugging off the floor-length robe. He drapes it over her body, sauntering to the cell door with only low-slung pants and the golden expanse of his back. She sits up, clutching the robe to her chest still warm. “You may beat us all to the Iron Throne one day, with that tenacity of yours.” 

One hand pulls the door shut…but not quite. Not enough for the latch to catch, but enough for the guards to believe so. Her eyes snap from the door to Oberyn’s eyes, challenge and conquest pooling in them.

“Come try and kill me again if you can, little scorpion.”

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[windupmyrie]

People are often surprised to hear that Thancred and Y'shtola are basically the best of friends when they act like this.

I have a bunch of incorrect quotes to make Gposes out of, wish me luck

[captainkurosolaire]

Blooming Effect

Colorfully ornamented pinwheel's delicately in youth's spring hands whirled while they giggled amongst themselves, crackling skies of prismatic firework's of festivities lit up alongside drifting stars celebrating a new leaf. An elegant vibrant dragon's dancing ran parading throughout the Far-East chasing away evil spirit's and encourage prosperity, fortune. Even in conflict's of grim. A seasoned-shadow with minor scrapes moved throughout crowds undetected. An oddity challenging flower still remained in his possession for until Sunrise. When his ordeal, would be over. Yet every petal remained in-tact, the flower mysteriously didn't wither. In moment's the assassin, researched it like a father's obligation. She who wasn't even named. It-was-as-if, his existence was buried, a nameless headstone grave, this flower was a respect to the dead; of him, and the yard's he created. Sensation's crept up, protecting this small-precious, insignificant thing. Was this power in valuing life? His saunter pace furthered, feeling followed. Someone peered through darkness and located him skillfully. Taking an alley-way away from crowds. Pursuit came to a stop, as heel's cackling behind him paused at the entry, noticing the shadow disappeared. Thinking he caught the chaser off-guard, only for a scatter of high-puncturing thick steel-needles to launch from a conditioned, polished hand. He rapidly deflected with a blinding speed swish of his sheathed-blade, one-stray needle, requiring him to physically punch in a timely-stoppage, blocking for the safety of that flower, nestled closer to his heart. A completed lolipop's stick fell from filled purse-lips, "Sharp, Lion, oh how you've always penetrated my deepest senses." Sultry came out playfully from a She-Devil. Palpable energy unveiled rising, flashing an uncanny smirk, she cut the distance and kicked his blade in disarming, the stiletto heel's she wore were instrumental-weapons equivalently. Razor-nail's feminine grazed his neck, easy for rupturing. Her disarm wasn't entirely success, his feline tail, latched by the hilt his blade and transferred it to an open-palm to wield, both them stalemated. Purring before his feline ear, "I do enjoy being a breathe away at the crescendo with you." She'd wink before leaping backwards. This energetic, assassin perhaps, was at an equal-level or above, without sacrificing an ounce of identity. Her method was more aligned with infamous, Kunoichi's, ensnaring with their feminine-charm, before burying their teeth to prey. The stone-face spent no amusement, "How do you come, Killer Queen?" Only knowing another by many title's placed in their settings. Alongside one mutual-mission they met previously-in. "Buy me dinner, I could be ever-willing to demonstrate." Furthering teases, despite his steel-exposure was immovable. Clearly, she wasn't out to spew his blood. Taking a turn and began withdrawing, wasn't worth sticking around, entertaining whatever she was scheming. Brow's of dismay and playfulness frowned, "Alright! Get-back, I'm returning a favor. I was running an investigation on your own Don." Upon hearing callous hands returned with killing-intent, was likely they'd be fighting after-all... For now still held allegiances. Before he struck, she continued. Violet-highlight strands with darker roots, she brushed aside and began using a trimmer on her nails. "Overheard them mention you in-fact, you're compromised to them." Now his attention and posture staggered, realizing the severity. "They know your mission-failed, she's marked. Dead any moment by another Black Miracle." He said no response, and began suddenly taking-off, climbing acrobatically on rooftops above the Eastern city-walls. <My didn't expect that response.... Seems you're compromised indeed.> The informant thought before following his movements, running alongside gingerly. "Could of led with this." He said simplistically. Expressing her sympathy became mournful, respecting, "You'll not find her in time..." Being realistic.

Stopping in tracks holding his head down, seemingly accepting it's a lost cause... Retrieval came for the flower nestled still containing his client's scent and aura. Using an advanced-technique, like sonar detection, or wavelength's of that flower's essence permeated throughout the city using his own aether to extend the range and lock onto identical unseen waves until finding the center point, where similarities meet. Boot's resumed on a race against the clock, lethally ticking.

[Prev:Chapter]: Mother of Light ~ ♪"Secret Place"♪

[kpop-stories-21]

Stains of Crimson | Part 2

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Jongho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Dark Fae AU, Fantasy AU, Angst, Smut, Dark Content

Content & Trigger Warnings: Daoine Sidhe!Jongho, Pirate Captain!Reader, dark content, graphic descriptions of fighting, graphic descriptions of death, graphic descriptions of gore, blood, injuries, brief & graphic mention of torture, experimenting on humans, blood magic

Summary: A nearly successful escape brings you in contact with the mysterious Fae who has been watching you for a while now

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @stardragongalaxy @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreamsskz @pyeonghongrie-main @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy @sanjoongie ATEEZ tags: @lovelyhange @spicyseonghwas @firefox79 @alex-tinyy

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @kdiarynet | @cultofdionysusnet

MDNI banner, divider, and support banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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“Rise and shine, little fly!”

A loud banging woke you, and you cursed whichever one of your crew members dared to wake you in such a manner. Then your sleep-blurred vision cleared and you took in walls of stone with no windows. Oh, right. Your crew had mutinied and tied you up in a fairy circle approximately two weeks ago, leaving you to be found by two Fae who were undoubtedly the most obnoxious beings you had ever encountered.

Speak of the devil…

“All right, all right, I’m up!” You growled, sitting up and glaring at Astario.

He chuckled, unbothered by your anger. “Ooo, so scary.” He mocked. “I’m positively quivering.”

If I had my cutlass I’d cut him to ribbons. You grumbled silently. See who’s quivering then!

With one last glare you stood to your feet, the chains around your wrists and ankles clanking heavily.

Astario unlocked your cell, grabbing hold of your arm as he led you to a now-familiar area. It was almost like a coliseum, except underground and full of cordoned off smaller areas for testing and experimenting on humans.

As you were led to an empty area, you scanned your surroundings for a particular Fae who’d been watching you from day one. Sure enough, there he was again: tanned skin, bright red hair, vivid green eyes and blood-red clothes. The intensity of his gaze sent chills down your spine, but you weren’t sure exactly what kind of chills they were; whether they were born of unease, or excitement; and you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out.

Astario strapped you to the chair in the middle of the area and stepped back, grinning wickedly. “The Doctor will be with you shortly.”

A few minutes later two figures approached you, ones you recognized immediately. The taller figure was the one most of the Fae around here referred to as the Doctor, though you had once overheard someone calling him Vraelys and assumed that was his actual name.

You made sure never to call him by that name if, for some wild reason, you needed to talk to him; one of the lessons your parents had drummed into you was the power of a name in the hands of another being and thus to never give a Fae your birth name, nor call them by theirs, unless permission was given.

The second figure belonged to a younger-looking Fae with glowing teal eyes who told you to call her Dunrí. She was the Doctor’s bodyguard, a silent presence that followed him everywhere and would have been intimidating to any other human. You were not intimidated in the least, and admired privately how similar she was to you in temperament and viciousness. You once saw her cut down a human seeking revenge in mere seconds, her lithe form coated in gore and a mad smile on her face that you yourself had sported many times.

As the Doctor began to set things up for whatever he'd be doing to you today, he struck up a conversation with his usually silent bodyguard.

“I hear you'll be leaving me in a few weeks, after you come of age.” He commented casually.

Dunrí nodded. “I’ll be going to Oidhche, as I feel my temperament and moral leanings would fit better there.”

“Well, you’ll certainly be missed around here.” The Doctor declared as he filled a syringe with a strange, viscous pink fluid and walked towards you. “You were the best bodyguard I’ve had in a while.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, I hear they’re sending Jjong to replace me.”

“Oh really?”

The Doctor looked surprised as he jabbed the syringe into your arm and emptied it. You sat silently, not caring what the result was unless it horribly disfigured you in some way. You were far more interested in the conversation occurring around you.

“That must be why he’s been hanging around here more. I thought he was intrigued by the new human, but he must’ve just been getting the lay of the land.”

It occurred to you then that this “Jjong” had to be the Fae who’d been watching you every day. Another odd chill raked down your spine at the thought of being in such close proximity to him on a regular basis. It was so strange, the effect he had on you. You had no idea why you reacted in such a way whenever you saw him, and again you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know the reason.

You were no stranger to darkness and depravity, being the most vicious pirate to sail the seas in many a year. The sight of all these humans being experimented on would turn most stomachs, but you didn’t really care. Your own survival was top priority, everything else came second and most other people were just in the way. There was a part of you that wanted to see this mysterious Jjong up close and personal. From the way Dunrí spoke of him, he was even more vicious and skilled than she; mayhaps he was as dark and twisted as you were. Not that you planned on hanging around this place any longer than you had to.

Silence greeted you upon returning to the present moment. More than a little surprised, you looked around as far as you could from your position, but Dunrí and the Doctor were nowhere to be seen. Not even the green-eyed Jjong was watching you, an unusual move on his part if he was truly getting a feel for his surroundings as the Doctor surmised.

Taking advantage of this rare moment without supervision, you scanned all the implements on the tables around you to see if there was anything you could use to free yourself. To your delight, there was a pair of very sharp-looking scissors just within reach. Stretching out, you were able to grab hold of them and set about cutting through the straps that bound you.

It was not easy work, and by the time the last of the straps across your torso fell away, you felt there would be several new scars on your hands. Sure enough, when you brought your hands around to examine them, several small cuts in your palms were bleeding and somehow the tip of your left middle finger was missing. You shrugged, not minding the severed bit as you were focused solely on getting back to your own world. After all, your former crew had yet to face judgement for trying to get rid of you.

Peering around the corner revealed that the rest of the experimentation was proceeding as normal. If the place had been empty, you'd have suspected a trap or test of some kind. Even so, you hadn't ruled that possibility out entirely. Having long ago learned how to make absolutely no noise when sneaking up on an enemy or trying to pass quietly through an area, it took you mere seconds to make your way out of the coliseum and up the stairs to the floor your cell was on.

As you rounded a corner you nearly ran into a guard standing watch. Luckily, his back was to you and so you were able to slip down another hallway without being noticed. A large stone door stood at the end of the hallway and you approached it cautiously, scanning the surrounding area constantly. When no one appeared to defend the door, you pushed it slowly open.

The sun was almost blinding as you stepped out into the fresh air, a welcome change after so long stuck inside. Once your eyes had adjusted you took in your surroundings once more, planning an escape route in your head. Your gaze landed on a fair-sized river winding away into the distance, and the faint shimmer of what might be the ocean. Perhaps you could sail your way out of this realm and back into your own. Your parents had made you learn about all different kinds of Fae back then, you were pretty sure there were some who lived in the water. Surely there were places in the water where one could cross between worlds.

Your plan made, you set off at a brisk jog. The first step was to cross the river and follow its course from the woods, where there would hopefully be less eyes on you. You prayed you could make it to cover before anyone discovered you were missing. The river was deeper than you expected, water swirling just above your knees as you waded through it. The rocks along the bottom were smooth and slippery as you walked across them, and you had to slow down a bit in order to prevent taking an unplanned swim. Once on the other side you plunge back into the woods before stopping to catch your breath for a moment and assess where to go next.

In the distance you could see what looked to be the ruins of a castle in the midst of this stretch of woods. You figured it was probably best not to try and take refuge in those ruins, it’d be just your luck to come across some species of Fae that likes to live in ruins. You couldn’t see the immediate area around the ruins, so you decided to venture a little closer in order to better ascertain the lay of the land and figure out how to get around the ruins without alerting anyone to your presence.

About halfway through your trek an unexpected wave of dizziness washed over you and you stumbled, tripping over a root and tumbling to the leaf-covered ground. You caught yourself just before hitting your head on a much larger root and laid where you fell, eyes wide as you clutched the grass. Your body trembled violently as the sensations of nausea and dizziness battled within you, and for the first time in your life you felt utterly helpless.

It was well past sunset by the time you reached the point where you couldn’t take much more, and with the last shreds of consciousness you managed to drag yourself under a huge bush, curling into a ball as your weary body gave in and you passed out.

When you finally returned to your senses you were still under the bush, but now with the sun overhead, pouring light directly into your eyes. You winced at the brightness as you rose shakily into a sitting position, the size of the bush still keeping you fully hidden. You took stock of your body, assessing your condition in the aftermath of whatever the hell had happened the night before. It was utterly confounding, nothing like that had ever happened to you before and if you were being perfectly honest, you were a little scared. Fear was an odd and unfamiliar feeling to you. Generally you were the one causing the fear, not falling victim to it.

A faint rustling came from behind you, your weariness instantly forgotten as you remembered what you were doing before the dizziness hit you. The soreness fled your muscles and you crouched within your hiding place, ready to spring from the bush at a moment's notice. Not for the first time, you wished for your cutlass, cursing the predicament your former crew put you in that had robbed you of your favourite weapon.

After a few tense moments the rustling stopped and a small but strange-looking creature popped out of a nearby bush. It sniffed the air for a moment, then froze and jerked its head towards your hiding place. Shit, it caught my scent. You thought, glancing around to see if you could find an escape route. The Fae must’ve sent it ahead to keep track of me.

Your wandering eyes caught sight of a break in the trees and you paused, fully taking in the scene. Just a few feet ahead there was a break in the woods where a path ran up to the ruins. After that was another patch of woods, beyond which you could just make out another break which you assumed was for a second road. There was a fair-sized stretch on either side of the road to the ruins that had absolutely no cover. Seeing no other option you moved into a crouch, readied yourself, and sprang from the bush, sprinting across the road and back into the woods with the creature hot on your heels.

Just as you had guessed, this patch of woods was small and soon gave way to another road, after which you saw more forest with no visible breaks in the distance. As you plunged into the trees once more, a gentle breeze blew past you, carrying with it the faint scent of saltwater. Hope surged within you and your pace quickened. You were so close, just a bit further and-

Wham! Something invisible suddenly blocked your path and you crashed into it, falling flat on your ass almost before you realised what happened. Before you could recover your footing, a figure loomed over you and your heart sank. You tried to scoot away and get back onto your feet, but your back hit the invisible thing, trapping you in place.

Looking up, you finally got a good look at the Fae who caught you and your heart skipped a beat. It was none other than Jjong, his familiar form filling your vision. The only odd thing you noticed was that his eyes were now a glowing blood-red instead of their usual intense green. He reached down, hand closing around your arm as he yanked you to your feet.

“Let go of me!” You growled, eyes narrowing. In this moment you didn’t care that he was an otherworldly Fae and you were only a human. You weren’t about to let freedom slip through your fingers when it was this close. You twisted around, lifting your feet off the ground. Using his grip on your arm as leverage, you planted your feet on his chest and pushed him away from you with all your might. You did actually seem to catch him off guard, creating a distance of at least three feet between the two of you.

A sting of pain shot through the hand you’d injured while escaping and you looked down at it, surprised to see that the previously scabbed-over wound was now slowly bleeding. A faint sort of rippling sound reached your ears and you looked up to see Jjong using magic to swirl a bubble of something around between his hands. Upon closer inspection you saw that it was blood floating within the bubble, most likely the reason why you were bleeding again. He looked up at you, smirked, and crushed the bubble in one palm.

A familiar wave of dizziness and nausea crashed over you and you crumpled to the ground, rendered helpless once more and unable to defend yourself against the Fae responsible for your current anguish. Just before passing out yet again, you heard the sound of other voices approaching. Several of the voices rose in anger, clearly arguing about something, until Jjong let out a yell that silenced all of them.

“I caught her, so I have the right to claim her! Tell the Doctor to…”

Everything faded to black as unconsciousness embraced you once more.

As you slowly came back to wakefulness, you expected to be back in your cell awaiting more experimentation. Instead, however, you found yourself in a small room with a dirt ceiling, dirt walls and floors, as well as the simple bed upon which you rested. Confused and curious, you stood to your feet and walked towards the room’s entrance. Trying your best to go unnoticed, you stuck your head out and slowly looked around.

Dirt. Everything was made of it, save for a few sparse pieces of furniture. You wondered who lived here, and why you had been brought here instead of back to your cell. Then you vaguely recalled Jjong saying something about catching you and having a right to claim you, so you decided this was probably where he lived. You wondered what his motives were for this sudden change. Would he perform his own experiments on you, or would you still be taken to the Doctor everyday? You supposed you were about to find out, considering the voices you heard just ahead.

As you got closer you were able to distinguish what was being said, recognizing Astario’s familiar voice alongside Jjong’s deeper tone.

“You can’t just claim her and not allow things to continue as they were!” Astario complained. “The Doctor was just beginning to make progress with her experiments.”

“I understand that.” Jjong replied calmly. “But I have my own reasons for claiming her, and the Doctor will just have to deal with it.”

“Now look here-”

“You can trust that if I ever change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.”

Astario grumbled under his breath before grudgingly accepting Jjong’s words. There was some shuffling, then there was silence. After a moment, Jjong’s voice rang out once more.

“You can come out now.” It wasn’t said mockingly or angrily, as if he was upset by your eavesdropping. With the tone he used, he could’ve been discussing the weather or something similarly mundane. Curiosity winning you over once more, you rounded the corner and stopped, caught up in the intensity of those brilliant green eyes.

Shaking yourself free after a moment, you put voice to the questions you’d been longing to ask.

“Why am I here?” You kept your expression hard and free of emotion. Vernon once called the look your ‘pirate mask’, and the phrase had stuck ever since.

Jjong returned your look with one of his own as he replied “I have my reasons.”

You scoffed. “You know, the last person who brushed me off like that wound up dead in some forgotten back alley.”

Jjong eyed you darkly. “You’re not in the best position to be making threats, human. You are in my house after all.”

You met his gaze without backing down, the barest hint of a smile ghosting across your lips. “Are you aware you’ve allowed a bloodthirsty pirate into your home?”

Jjong merely smirked. “I am, actually. I saw some of your memories when I was using your blood to track you.”

You froze, staring at him for a moment as the pieces connected in your head. “That was the first time I felt sick, wasn’t it? You were using my blood to find where I was.”

Jjong nodded but said nothing. There was silence for a few moments, then he stood to his feet.

“I’m going to visit a friend, but I shouldn’t be away too long.” He fixed you with another intense stare. “I’d advise against going out when I’m not around, there are quite a few Fae who would love to get their hands on you, and at least half of them are more violent than me.”

And just like that he was gone, and you were alone once more.

«-Previous | Next-»

[digitalbath1988]

I Wanna Be Adored

TW: psychological manipulation, sexual manipulation, unhealthy relationship

“I umm, talked to him for just a minute.   I wasn’t flirting or anything- just polite small talk.  I didn’t know he’d ummm, do this.”  She shrugged, but it couldn’t cover up her fight or flight response kicking in.  

He was tired of it.  These men didn’t have to show any shame about flirting with her, because contractually and publicly, she was single.  

Vought wanted every pathetic teenage fanboy to think he stood a chance with Sharpshot.  Her demo saw her as little more than a sex object.  Not like he saw her.  A flawed, nuanced person.  Someone he cared for more than anyone else ever could.

Of course, instead of expressing any of this-

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”  He said, in a seething whisper.

Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me Ch. 25

“I don’t have to sell my soul,

He’s already in me

I don’t have to sell my soul

He’s already in me

I wanna be adored..

You adore me..

I wanna, I wanna, I gotta be adored.”

The Stone Roses, I Wanna Be Adored

Dear Sharpshot,

I really enjoyed our conversation at Believe Expo.  

I hope you won’t mind that I did a little bit of additional reading when I got home.

First of all, you were right about “God helps those who help themselves,” not having origins in the Bible.  I’m hoping no one else overheard that.  Might damage our chances to sponsor again next year!  Hope you don’t mind keeping that our little secret.

Second of all, I got in touch with some connections at Vought to learn more about you, since we didn’t have much time to chat.  (Plus, you seemed very engrossed in- whatever Homelander was saying during that ridiculously long speech.). I hope you don’t mind if I call you Calla?  A beautiful name for an equally beautiful girl.

Although you certainly don’t need my advice, I’ll give it anyway.  Don’t set your heart on someone who’s unobtainable.   You might lose out on other opportunities.  Like sashimi with me at 8 pm on Friday?  I already made reservations at Sugarfish.  

Dare I to dream? 

Greg

Homelander could barely see through the buzzing in his head.  He’d read the card still in its sealed envelope, attached to a huge bouquet of red roses.

I’m gonna fucking kill him.  I’m gonna fuck her in front of him and then I’ll kill him.  I’m gonna rip off his fingernails and arms and dick and throw him off the roof of his shitty McMansion-

“Oh hi there, handsome,” Calla said with her trademark mischievous grin, still drying her hair in a towel.  “Wow, those are pretty, are they for you or me?”  

He resisted the temptation to melt them in front of her eyes, vase and all. “You must have made quite the impression on that new CEO.  Madelyn sure loves pretending you’re single if it will save us 3% over last year’s exclusivity contract.”

“Oh, I-“. She stuttered.

“What happened?”  He asked plainly.

“I umm, talked to him for just a minute.   I wasn’t flirting or anything- just polite small talk.  I didn’t know he’d ummm, do this.”  She shrugged, but it couldn’t cover up her fight or flight response kicking in.  

He was tired of it.  These men didn’t have to show any shame about flirting with her, because contractually and publicly, she was single.  

Vought wanted every pathetic teenage fanboy to think he stood a chance with Sharpshot.  Her demo saw her as little more than a sex object.  Not like he saw her.  A flawed, nuanced person.  Someone he cared for more than anyone else ever could.

Of course, instead of expressing any of this-

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”  He said, in a seething whisper.  He tucked a short strand of hair behind her ear and planted a quick kiss on her lips.

He could practically hear Calla’s little schemes whirring around in her head.  Her eyes would steady as she tried to hold her heart and blood pressure in check, breath slowing in an attempt to control rising panic.  It was pathetic, really. But he never called her out on it.  If she thought she could hide anything from him- it was better to let her think she could.  Plus, it was rare.  She mostly schemed when she held some mistaken belief that she was doing something good.  Like convincing him to spare the likes of Greg.   He rolled his eyes.

She dropped the towels.  Fuck subtlety, I guess.

“Don’t do it.  Please?”

“Why not?”  He asked, almost unable to hide a sadistic smile. His eyes flicked up and down.  

She looked like some sort of blasphemous iconography.  Her hands touched his knees as she knelt down in supplication.  Calla rubbed her cheek against the inside of his left thigh.  “It would be a bad idea.  He’s a CEO, not some mid-level executive.  Too much visibility.”

“Hmmm. You spend way too much time with Madelyn.”

“That’s why you like me.  At least, I hope you like me.”  Belying her shy words and the blush on her cheeks, her hands were slowly making their way up the inside of his thighs.  Fuck.  

“I love you, and I hate not being able to tell the world that you’re mine.”  He said, hoping she didn’t notice the shiver that went down his left leg.  

She did, though.  She knew him.

“I love you,” Calla said, unbuckling his tights and continued.   “And I don’t have eyes for anyone but you.”

She sat down, straddling his legs, and if he didn’t know her better, he’d have sworn she felt confident about her ability to change his mind.  That wasn’t going to fly.

“Good, but I’m still gonna fucking kill Greg.”  He said with a grin.   “And anybody else who has the nerve to look at you a second too long.”

She tried hard to put on a brave face, but her heart was pounding so hard he could feel it through them both, if he hadn’t heard it like a drum.  “Please..”. Her hand gripped at him, a move that would have put Madelyn’s manipulative skills to shame.  He raised an eyebrow at her.

“You want to try and convince me?”

She bit her lip and nodded at him.   Truth was, he’d been hard before she’d even touched him.  There was something about her begging; someone more self aware would have recognized it as sexual sadism.  Calla probably understood it better than Homelander.  She was willing to play along if the ends justified the means.

“Please, daddy.  Anything you want.”  That scheming little hand worked itself up and down his shaft, eased by some warm spit from her mouth.

“You can kill Greg for me.  Naked, so he thinks he’s about to be the luckiest guy alive. Close range, head shot so there’s a lot of blood spatter all over you.”  He said with a toothy smile.  Calla couldn’t even look at him now, so he turned her head back towards him.  “Come on, you said anything I wanted,” he chuckled.  “You must like him, why else would you be working so hard to convince me?”  

Calla didn’t answer.  He hated when she’d retreat inwards, where he couldn’t touch her.  His fists clenched.  “So you do like him. Slut.”

He knew, logically, there was no way she actually did- he’d glanced at her while Greg spoke to her at Believe Expo.  She had that telltale look of annoyance, like Greg was a buzzing fly she wanted to swat but couldn’t.  She had to play nice and laugh at his jokes. 

But Homelander still wanted reassurance.  It hurt too much otherwise.

“I don’t care about him,” she replied, getting up.  Tears were sparkling in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.  “I only care about you. You know that.  Don’t be cruel.”

It was honest, pure.  She didn’t have to do any of her tricks now.  The tears were real.  He pulled her back into him, perhaps not as gently as he should have.  She flinched.  

He kissed away the couple of tears she’d finally let spill. The salty taste was addictive.   “C’mere- It’s ok, it’s ok, honey”. He pulled her back onto his lap.  There was a reaction to her like this, one that he couldn’t help as he tucked her into him, rubbing her back.  Calla noticed it too.

“I’ll let you fuck my ass.”  She said after a minute, still nuzzled into him.  “If you don’t hurt him, or the other idiots like him.”

He hadn’t expected something so crass from her. Sure, she was direct, but not that direct. And there was so much he could retort with. But before he could say anything, he fucking twitched. There was no way she didn’t feel it.

She got up, pulling a chair in front of him, and then positioned herself enticingly over it, hands folded over the back, ass facing him.  He swallowed hard, hoping she didn’t hear it.

He pulled his clothes off the rest of the way, then approached her, silent to her imperfect ears.  

Her body was less of a temple and more of a monument to survival at any cost. Something else unspoken they shared. She’d never asked about the padding in his suit.  He’d returned the favor by not noticing the way she tortured herself to look good in a costume she hated.  They understood each other so well.

He pulled off his gloves and ran his hands over her underfed shoulders, then down the lines of her body.  

He clasped her hands into prayer position, then walked around the chair.  He crossed his own behind his back.   “I didn’t say to stop begging,” he said finally.

“Please don’t hurt anyone on my behalf.”  Calla pled.  

“Come on, way too ambiguous.  You’re smarter than that.  How many times have I saved your life, huh?”

“Little bit less since I took Compound V, but yeah.”  She said, affect flattened out again.  Mask down for him, vulnerable.  Nobody else could see her this way.  It was almost as intimate as being inside of her.  

“You need me.” Make sure you say it back.

“I need you, Homelander.  It’s not worth hurting anyone over me.  Hell- I’m not even worth the hassle.”  He ignored the last statement, hated how she’d put herself down.  After all- if she was worthless, what did that make him for wanting her?  

“Can’t wait until your contract is up.  I’m gonna..”

There was so much he wanted to say.  Finally tell the world.  Marry you.  Retire you.  Get you pregnant.  Kill everyone who hurt you, or tried to take you from me.

Calla leaned forward and instantly had him back at full attention, no hands required.  “Greg’s not worth it.  None of them are.  Let me help you feel better, okay?”  

It was hard to protest.  Her hands were still steepled as if they were in prayer, but her lips brushed softly against the head of his cock.  

“You’re right.  They’re insignificant,” he sighed in relief as she opened her mouth, “p-p-pathetic fucking insects.”  

She nodded at him, mouth full now.  Pupils dilated.  Vought liked her with short hair, which was a shame.  He pressed the back of her neck to indicate he wanted deeper in her throat, instead of using her hair as a handle.  

She barely gagged as he picked up the pace.  “So fucking pretty like this.  Can’t blame them for trying.”  She tried to spit out his dick to speak, but he sank himself even deeper.  “What were you gonna say, I’m the only one who gets to fuck you?  Lucky you.  If it wasn’t for me, Vought would whore a cute little C-lister like you out.”

The worse he treated her, the more obscene she smelled.   He left the warm, wet press of her mouth to walk around the chair, hands down her sides again.  He didn’t stop there this time.

She might have been too thin, but her ass was perfect.  Her personal trainer was ruthless about her muscle to body fat ratio.  (She’d gotten the dose so late in life that her body was still highly responsive to exercise and diet.). He couldn’t resist a few careful slaps.  

“Don’t get too excited.  Just want to feel how wet you are.”  He yanked her lower half up and steadied her upper half over the chair again.  She didn’t protest the sudden breach, just moaned as he filled her completely. 

“Fuck,” he cussed in reply.  She felt too good, he was tempted to keep going just like this.  

Especially when Calla purposely gave him a few squeezes.  

“None of them could ever fuck you right.  Only me.”  He said, surprised to hear the breath catch in his throat at another press of her kegels.

“Just you.”  Calla said, struggling a little bit since he had his free hand wrapped around her throat.  “Need you, you’re so perfect…”

Homelander almost lost it when she said that.  It sounded so good falling from her lips.  He pulled out and half dragged, half threw her on the bed, on her back.  He bent both knees back to her chest.  

“Wanna see it on your face,” he explained, working the fat head of his dick into her tight rim. Lucky for her, she’d gotten him soaking wet first.  “Hurts?”

“Yes” she gasped.

“You look like I’m splitting you in half.”  He said with a sadistic chuckle.   “Hey, was your idea, honey.”

“Goddamn it,” she inhaled.  They inhaled and exhaled together.  He could almost feel the pain and pleasure in equal measure, looking in her eyes.  

“Is it too much for you?”  He said, halfway in.  She gulped and nodded.  

“Gonna just have to get used to it, fuck.  You feel so good.” He slid home, despite a squeak of protest from her lips.  “I need you too, ya know.”

He could feel her pain-fueled adrenaline fading, her heart coming down.   He put his hand up to her face, brushing his thumb against her lips.

“Don’t want to even think about anyone else inside of my girl.  Fuckers like him think they bought you along with the sponsorship.”  He went faster, trying to balance not hurting her excessively with being able to get off.  “Wanna protect you from them.”  He said.  He could barely think now.  She felt so goddamn nice.  

And it was more than that, it was how she’d yielded this part of herself to him.

“It’s ok,” Calla whispered and ran her hand through his hair, sending a shiver down his spine.  “I’m not going anywhere.  Promise.”  She nipped at his thumb quickly with a smile.  Then a slight wince.

“‘Kay,” he said, barely slurring.  “Good.  Fuck, you’re good.”

“No, remember, I’m a.. *gasp* filthy little reprobate, right?  You’re the good guy.  You’re good.”

“Keep saying that,” he gritted, hand softly against her throat the way she liked.

“You’re good, you’re good, *fuck*, you’re good.”

He knew his eyes were about to turn red from the intensity of his building orgasm.  So instead of looking at her, he looked at the vase near the door, obliterating the bouquet.  Calla tried to look up at the sound of the few remaining glass shards clinking onto the floor loudly.

“You’re good,” she said as he pressed her back into the bed.  “I love you.”

“You too, I’m..,” he clung to her arms as he came, rutting deeply until he got too sensitive.  His legs shook from the intensity.  “Fuck- sorry.  Wanted to make you..”

“It’s fine.  I’ll let you make it up to me,” she said with a smirk as he got her a towel to sit on.  He needed the minute to get himself together, anyway.

“You didn’t do that for them.”  Homelander said as he threw her the towel. 

She raised an overly innocent eyebrow.  “Hmmm?”

“Nope, you did it for me.  You don’t give a shit if he lives or dies- or any of the others-you just didn’t want me to get in trouble.”

She grinned.  “That is what I was trying to say.  But I mean, what would they do?  Put you on trial for murder?  Throw you in maximum security prison?”

“Well, I appreciate you, even despite that smart-aleck mouth you have. Means a lot to me.  And it’s cute that you think you can protect me- even from myself.”  He curled up next to her.  

“Of course I can protect you.  I’ve got superpowers.”   She said with a laugh.  He couldn’t help but laugh too.   She was the only person who could get away with that dumb fucking joke.

—

Greg would be blissfully ignorant of the danger he’d been in.  Well, other than the way Homelander would look at him.  He was always creeped out by that guy, but had no idea what he could have ever done to offend him.

—- 

[lec743-my-art]

Merry Christmas Secret Santa @primary-visions

            The day was coming to an end. The sky was painted with bright oranges, light pinks, and stark purples and indigo, just enough light for the three travelers to see by as they made it to their destination. The town was small but thrived on the travelers that must pass through to reach farther lands. There was a comfy inn called Drunk Rats. There was an obvious sign of forgers and black smith smokestacks further in town, but the three travelers were too tired to truly explore the town further than what they could see. Well, the only human of the group was tired. The two automatons traveling with the human could continue for forever if they so choose, but it was time for the two to check if anything needs oiling or if dust needs to be taken out of gears. Staying at an inn was a great place to check for such things.

            “Oh! This place is so cute looking. Do you think I should have my house here?” Soliel asked as he examined the old but sturdy building they were entering. His metal hands touched at the wood gently as he walked with the others.

            The inn wasn’t overwhelmingly loud, but it was noisy with low talking as a dwarf bard near the fireplace strummed on her lute. Candle holders caked with the remains of past candles sat against the support beams of the building as the newly lit candles’ lights danced, giving the whole place a soft golden glow.

            “You say that about every village or town we walk into,” Hati stated, ribbing his follow automat with playfulness and annoyance.

            “There are so many good places to live at!” Soliel said, getting defensive. “I want to live at the perfect place.”

            The human companion, the artificer of the group, sighed at their bickering. They left Hati and Soliel to bicker like siblings that have been together for far too long as they approached the owner of the inn at the front desk.

            “Hi. Do you have room for the three of us? We’ll just take one room.”

            The human woman looked like she was nearing her golden age. Maybe in her fifties if the gray in her blond hair told them anything. The front desk woman had on a very low-cut dress that was brown and blue in color. It looked nice on her. She looked at the artificer and then at their bickering companions behind them. “Are those things yours?”

            The human companion sighed in disappointment at that. “They’re my friends.”

            There was a pause as the older woman looked at the artificer with one cocked eyebrow. They didn’t elaborate to the woman, so she shrugged then said, “It’ll be two gold pieces per night stay. Do you have any horses or livestock with you?”

            “No, it’s just the three of us,” they said as they dug out ten gold pieces. Then they placed them on the counter and the woman took the money and placed a key in its place.

            “Your room will be upstairs, on the right, at the end of the hallway.”

            “Thank you.”

            They went back to their automaton buddies. They overheard them fighting over hypotheticals about how they would handle fighting a bugbear. Hati was proudly saying he’d demolish the bugbear with the perfect strike while Soliel gave him the most leveling look an automaton could give when his face is only a mask of an artistic sun.

            “Okay. Let’s go boys. I hear a bath calling my name.”

            “Coming,” they both cheered as they followed the artificer up the stairs.

            The next day, as the sun rose, Soliel was the first to rise and he went to explore the little town. It was full of people. Mostly humans, as he’s accustomed to seeing, but he has also noticed there’s another thriving population of lizardfolk as well, along with a small, odd population of dwarves, elves and half-orcs. It really did seem like a nice town, with old but well-kept buildings, a flower shop, a sizable food market, two smith shops, a ceramic shop and a stone and wood cutter shop. Soliel circled back to the food market to buy a little snack for his sunshine friend but as he browsed what the food stalls had to offer, he noticed that there really wasn’t much to see. The portions were much too small for what size they should have been, or they were so old that they were starting to rot a bit, which isn’t a good sign.

            Soliel looked to the current food stall owner, who’s stall that he was browsing, and it was a young lizardfolk man sitting behind the cart. He was maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. His scales looked dull, and his face looked gaunt, like he hasn’t had a good meal in a while. He was wearing a simple tunic shirt and it hung off him loosely.

            “Excuse me my good man.”

            The lizardfolk man blinked a bit, like he was taken out of his thoughts and then he turned his snout towards the automaton. He blinked some more before his eyebrow ridges raised higher on his face as he regarded Soliel. “Yes?”

            “I was just wondering, is your town coming across hard times recently.” The bardic automaton motioned towards the lizardfolk’s wares for emphases.

            The lizardfolk man sighed as he leaned back into his chair. “No. It is not recently. It’s been four years.”

            “Oh my! What’s wrong?”

            “Look. I don’t have time for your curiosity, stranger. Either buy something or leave.” He didn’t say it with any power. He sounded like a man who’s extremely tired.

# # #

            “What do you mean he won’t tell me more! I rolled high on my charisma! I persuaded the heck out of him!” Sun whined to you, the Dungeon Master.

            “Look Sun, that’s just all he’s willing to answer. He doesn’t see you as a threat but you’re just an automaton to him. He doesn’t know your backstory, so he doesn’t think you’d understand anything more than what he said.”

            Sun slouched in the kitchen chair as he crossed his arms with a huff.

            Moon chuckled playfully as he rolled a twenty-sided die between his fingers. “You should have threatened him if you wanted more information.”

            Sun sighed, his voice box glitching to give it a gravelly affect. “That’s not the point of my character.”

            From across the kitchen table, Moon shrugged with little remorse at him.

            “So are you going to leave the lizard man alone, Sun,” you asked.

            “I’ll buy those carrots and leave,” he said in defeat as he leaned his flat face up to the ceiling in another show of pouting.

            You nod and then turn back to Moon. “Okay. What is Hati up to then as this is going on, Moon?”

            Moon gave a thoughtful hum as he considered his choices.

# # #

            Hati snuck through the gray alleyways of the town in the early morning. Having left his little artificer to sleep alone as soon as Sun left. He was scouting out the town for the richest people he can steal from. Some small part of Hati could practically hear Soliel say how he shouldn’t steal from people or how wrong it is. His long-time friend and assumed brother isn’t wrong, but Hati doesn’t care. He likes the thrill of stealing from the rich and using it for himself to buy whatever he wants. He sometimes even gives what he steals to the poor kids they encounter on their travels and that usually shuts up Soliel.

            Eventually he came across a government building that was just starting to wake up. At least that’s what it seemed to Hati from his observations. The automaton snuck into the building through a locked back door. The few people he crossed as he snuck through the government building were some general staff that were talking about how hard it’s been to feed their kids and when they are going to be able to farm properly again. Hati shrugged at that as he continued his way to where he deduced the mayor’s coffers to be.

            He narrowly avoided being caught by the mayor’s secretary as he was trying to unlock the door that led to the mayor’s office and therefor to their coffers. The secretary was running out of the office after getting news of some kind. Hati didn’t care for what for, he just wanted money and to get out of there. He inspected the mayor’s office to find it looking drab. Usually, a head of office has a luxurious setting with unnecessary gold-plated items. Hati mentally shrugs at the lack of finery. Relegating it to the town being too small for the mayor to get away with. He found the safe and unlocked it with ease. All that was in the safe was a pouch of thirty silver pieces.

# # #

            “Ah! What!” Moon complained over Sun’s laughter.

            “That’s all you find Moon,” you repeat.

            “Noooo! My character isn’t interested in stealing if it’s not gold. How does a government office not have gold!” Moon ranted.

            “Well, obviously this town isn’t doing so well,” Sun stated with smug satisfaction.

            Moon could only grouch some more against Sun and you.

            “Will you now check to see if there are any papers or documents for why this town is falling on such hard times?” Sun pleaded.

            Moon mechanically sighed, then said, “Fine… What do I roll for again DM?”

            “Investigation.”

            Moon took his twenty-sided die and tossed it on the table. It made little clacking noises before settling. “What does a 12 get me?”

            You cleared your throat. “You’ve been in plenty of offices before. You easily spot that there is a locked filing cabinet in the back right corner of the room, behind the mayor’s desk.”

            “Alright. Let me just roll for Slight of Hand and unlock this sucker.” Moon rolled his twenty-sided die again. “Yes! An eighteen! So all together that’s a twenty-seven.”

            “Tell me again why you chose to be a ranger and not a rouge,” you asked.

            “It’s too on the nose,” Moon said with a shrug.

            “Sometimes, being on the nose isn’t so bad,” Sun stated.

            Moon gave his sunny counterpart the best dead pan look that a robot can when their face is frozen in a permanent smile.

# # #

            Hati muttered to himself as he looked through the papers. Documents of the dead. Documents of newborns. Documents of housing. Reports on farms. Hati decided to look through those a bit more closely. From his quick scanning of the texts, Hati found that the town is having a bit of a bear problem. He would have looked more into it now that his curiosity has been piqued, but then he heard someone running down the halls towards the office he was in, and he had to bail out of the nearest window. He initially tried to jump through the window while it was closed, but he wasn’t strong enough to break it and instead had to open it and then jump out the window. He jumped with the grace of an egg falling out of a nest and hurting himself as he landed on the ground. He quickly ran back to The Drunk Rats Inn.

            The Artificer was drinking water-down beer for breakfast as it seemed that was all the Inn Keeper and Cook were able to provide as food, when Hati and Soliel came back from their exploring. Hati was walking like his ass was broken and Soliel was holding the sadist bundle of carrots the Artificer has ever seen.

            “What have you two been up to?”

            “Something is wrong here,” they both said. Then in sync both automatons turned to each other and pointed at each other at the same time, saying, “You too?”

            “Slow down. Why don’t you two sit down with me and then tell me what’s going on,” The Artificer stated.

            “Uh… Soliel, do you mind giving me a hand?”

            The sunshine robot rolled his head as he let out a mechanical sigh. He sat the carrots on the table in front of their human friend then he pulled out his ukulele and sang a little song to heal the broken machinery of Hati’s ass.

            “Thank you,” the moon themed robot said cheerfully.

            Soliel only grumbled a bit in response as he sat down with him and the Artificer. Hati went first telling the group about what he found, and he rolled his head as they told him how much they disapproved of him trying to steal from people… again. Then Soliel talked about his little romp through town and how lovely it is here but also how everyone doesn’t seem to be all that well fed.

            “You think that has anything to do with those bear problem reports you found, Hati,” the Artificer asked.

            “I don’t know how a bear or even a group of bears could make things go so wrong around here. I would think the local rangers would have taken them down by now.”

            “Maybe they don’t have rangers in this area,” Soliel suggested.

            The Artificer stood up and took the carrots with them and said, “Welp, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go talk to some elderly.” The Artificer took the carrots with them, taking a bite out of them as the three of them walked, unfazed by the bad taste of the old carrots.

            The three of them found the town square. There were young children gathered together talking or napping under the shade of the buildings and trees. A few young adults were cleaning the town square, making sure it’s clear of dirt and leaves. The elderly was in their own corner sitting around tables and playing boardgames of some kind. The three adventurers approached the elderly. Only one acknowledged their approached as he looked at them suspiciously.

            “What do you strangers want?” The old man had a long gray beard, and the sun shined on his bald head, as if he somehow took the hair on his head and decided to place it on his face to shake up the last years of his life. He was rail thin, but he still had a fire in his eyes, like he’d use his skeleton-like hands to cut you open with just his fingernails.

            “Well, my friends and I have noticed that your town seems to be having a hard time,” the Artificer started, “and we’re trying to figure out what’s wrong so we can help if we can. So what’s going on?”

            “No! That’s none of your concern!” The old man stated as the other elderly nodded in agreement. Except for one lady who was hidden by the crowd saying, “Uh, we could use the help actually.” The old man turned towards the old woman’s voice and yelled, “Ah, shut up, Linda, they weren’t asking you!”

            Hati took a step forward and lend towards the old man, then said, “Well now we are.”

            Soliel was already walking towards Linda, “Pardon us.”

            The old lady was bald, and you could obviously see that she didn’t have any teeth, but she still had a smile on her face that made the initial hostility surrounding them, seem dimmer.

            “So what is going on, Madam,” Soliel asked politely.

            “There’s this monstrous bear out in the woods that has three heads—”

            “Bah! Your eyes are bad! It was a normal bear!” The old man stated.

            “We weren’t asking you, now shut up,” Hati told off the old man. He was officially cowed by the moon themed automatons’ words.

            “Please continue,” Soliel gently coxed Linda to continue.

            “There’s this three-headed bear in the woods. It’s been giving us trouble ever since it’s been here. We’ve sent out so many rangers after it, who have never come back, that it’s felt useless to even ask for help anymore.”

            “Well, we’re willing to help. We can take care of it for you,” Soliel said.

            The old man spoke up with a shake to his voice, “Pah! What makes you three so special? I bet you’ll be asking for money for this service you are wanting to do.”

            The Artificer quickly spoke up, “Of course. It’s only just enough money to support us to the next town we travel to. We need to eat and survive as well.”

            The old man grumbled to himself as the other old folk nodded to that sound logic. The three of them get as much information as they can out of the towns folk and they bargained that if they succeed in killing the supposed three headed bear, they would be paid thirty gold pieces. Once everything was settled, the three adventures gathered their things and made their way into the nearby forest.

            As the three of them walked through the forest, Soliel decided to softly strum on his ukulele to pass the time. Their human friend was lost in their own thoughts thinking about what new magical buffs they can add to their automaton friends. Hati took the lead as the ranger of the group and was trying to find bear tracks. After an hour of walking, Hati had suddenly stopped, and the other two-party members ran into him as a result.

            “Dang it, Hati, what was that for. I was on a rhythm,” Soliel complained.

            Hati put a finger to his face mask and made a shushing noise. Then in a whisper he asked, “Do you hear that?”

            The three of them stood silently in the softly lit forest. All that was heard was the slight rustling of the breeze through the trees.

            “I don’t hear anything,” the Artificer whispered. Soliel nodded in agreement with them.

            “That’s right. There’s nothing. Not the sound of birds. Not the sound of wolves. Or dear or ferrets or any other animal that belongs to this forest. It’s too quiet. It’s like not even the insects are here.”

            The Artificer felt goosebumps prickle their skin and Soliel huddled closer to them as they gripped their ukulele a little tighter.

            “Did this bear just eat everything that’s in this forest?” The Artificer asked as they seriously took in their surroundings.

            Hati took out two arrows from his quiver for him to grip in each hand. “I would bet good money on that being the case. Let’s keep moving. I know we’re getting closer to it.”

            After that, the three of them got lost in the woods for an undetermined amount of time, because Hati was too proud to say he got lost after saying something that he thought made him sound cool. Eventually, the three of them got back on track. At a clearing in the woods, the party then found a big, dark cave with dried blood splattering its entrance and bones scattered everywhere.

            “I think it would be nice if one of us knew necromancy,” the Artificer whispered.

            “Yah, we could raise a whole skeleton army here,” Soliel whimpered.

            “Welp, no time like the present to get this done,” Hati said. Then he ran screaming into the cave making his friends jump at the sudden noise.

            Exasperated, Soliel yelled, “Hati why!”

            The lunar automaton moved too fast for them to react and all they could do was watch him disappear as his voice echoed inside the cave. The two of them stood quietly as it got quiet in the cave.

            “Oh good. It seems the bear isn’t in it’s cave right now,” the Artificer sighed.

            Soliel felt a hot, wet breath on the back of his scrawny neck. The solar automaton whipped around so fast it made the human jump and the two of them came face to face with a bear. Its head is so large it was as long as Soliel was tall. Its eyes were blood shot, and drool dripped down its fuzzy maw. Then something moved around the neck of the giant bear, almost hidden and blended into its long, dark brown shaggy fur. It was two more heads, smaller than the head in the middle, but still just as dangerous looking. For the longest moment, the two of them stared down the massive creature as it sniffed at them. All six eyes then shifted to the Artificer.

            “Oh, no…” They said as they started to back up from the encroaching bear.

            In a panic Soliel cast Confusion on the three headed bear, music filled the air making the world seem wobbly and weak. His human friend shook their head against the music, resisting the magic the solar automaton cast. The three headed bear wasn’t so lucky as it recoiled and stood on its hind legs, looking as tall as a two-story tall building.

            “Sorry!” Soliel yelled.

            “It’s good! I’m good!”

            An arrow shot forward and then hundreds more followed suit. The bear cried in pain, but only attached a near by tree. The two heroes turned to see Hati standing at the entrance of the cave, his bow smoking from using the spell Conjure Volley.

            “So, the cave is empty.”

            “Oh, you don’t say,” Soliel snapped back.

            “Now’s not the time to argue,” their human friend yelled as they took special manacles out of their bags and placed them on their arms. Then like angel wings, four giant olden mechanical arms appeared on their back, having casted Bionic Arms on themselves. “I’m going to try and pin its heads.” They climbed up the bear, using the arrows lodged into its hide as leverage to climb up faster. The human managed to get on top of the middle head of the bear, but just as they were about to grapple the jaws shut, clarity came back to the bears eyes, and it immediately tried to shake the Artificer off. “Aaaaa! Heeeeelp!!!”

            Soliel strummed on his ukulele and sang a song called Hold Monster. Immediately the three headed bear was still, but its body trembled as it tried to fight off the magical hold it was under. The human sighs in relief.

            Hati shot two arrows from his bow at the bear, both striking true. The second arrow caused thick spiney vines to spout out of the ground and wrap around the three headed bear’s hind legs. Even though it couldn’t open its mouth as it was still being held down by Soliel’s magic, they heard it cry viciously from the pain.

            The Artificer placed a pair of hands on each head, then used Taser. A charge of deadly electricity raced through the bear, causing its fur to smoke. Then the bear managed to break free of Soliel’s magic and one of the smaller bear heads managed to grab the Artificer by their boot. The bear shook them around before releasing them. The human flew through the sky and hit their back against a thick tree trunk and flopped to the forest floor.

            Soliel reactively ran towards their human friend but as he tried to get to them, the bear managed to catch him with its paws and sent the automaton flying backwards, making him disappear into the bushes of the forest. The bear then got to work on biting the spiney vines off of its body.

            Hati let loose another spell of Conjure Volley. Hitting the bear mostly in its back as it was in pain but still focused on getting itself free from the vines. The lunar automaton pulled out two arrows from his quiver and then charged at the bear with the arrows held high above his head.

            The Artificer struggled to get back on to their feet, even when using their extra limbs as crutches. They looked up in time to see Hati flinging himself at the three headed bear. “Hati! It’s not even restrained anymore!” Their friend ignored them as the ranger robot continued to stab the now free bear with his arrows. The bear set its eyes on the human and growled hungerly at them as they started to lumber towards the only flesh and blood being within a hundred-foot radius. The Artificer pulled out a disk from their bag and as the bear got closer and opened its jaw towards them, the human threw the disk into their mouth. The bear retracted a bit, finding the odd disk tasting funny, then the human magically set it off and the disk blew up like a bomb in the bear’s mouth. The middle head gurgled in pain as the other two heads howled in pain with the middle head.

            Soliel managed to finally drag himself out of the bush and came back into the clearing seeing that Hati was hanging on to the bear’s chest hair, and that his human friend was essentially cornered by a bloody mouthed bear. The bardic robot shook the leaves out of his ukulele and then started to strum Vicious Mockery, telling the bear how stupid it is and how weak and pathetic it is and how it doesn’t belong in the forest. It shook the three headed bear to its core. Hati barely managed to get out of the way as the bear fell to its stomach.

            Hati aimed an arrow into the sky and as the arrow fell towards the downed bear, he cast Conjure Barrage and hundreds of arrows rained on the bears back. The bear let out a weak roar.

            The Artificer kept their distance from the bear as they pointed with three hands at the creature. Then they let loose another Taser spell at the bear’s head. With one last weak gargle, the bear died before the three of them. The three of them sighed in relief.

            “That was rough,” the human stated as they wiped sweat off their brow.

            “That was an invasive species if I’ve ever seen one,” Hati remarked as he put away his bow and arrows.

            “Yah, and maybe next time, don’t just run headfirst into a problem,” Soliel scolded his fellow automaton.

            “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

            “Guys, let’s cut its head off so we have proof we did the job. Soliel, do you have any juice left to heal me. I’m not feeling too good.”

            The solar robot got it’s ukulele in position, “Of course.

# # #

            “And then the three of you managed to drag the heads to the town and the towns folk rejoiced and had a big celebration in your honor for actually defeating the monster that has been terrorizing them for years. You were given your thirty gold pieces like you were promised and extra travel supplies as an extra thank you for what you three did. The end.” You said, finishing the campaign.

            “Yay! Happy ending,” Sun said as he clapped.

            “Thank you for this. We really enjoyed playing this with you,” Moon stated.

            “Of course. I’m happy you two were interested in trying it with me.”

            Sun nodded with a giddy mechanical hum and Moon held your hand. Then the three of you cleaned up your dnd mess and continued your day doing chores and personal hobbies.