#they forget that there's that deep deep core of seething darkness in her heart

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

[Aymeric, O'ravi, and Artoirel discussing the vision O'ravi had of Profane Fafnir's origin]

Aymeric: The Heavens' Ward took up arms against us and Ishgard. By their hand were we robbed of one of our finest knights and a dear friend. Even so, I would not wish such a terrible fate upon them.

O'ravi, without missing a beat: I would.

Aymeric:

Artoirel:

O'ravi:

Aymeric and Artoirel, exchanging glances:

O'ravi: [clears throat] My apologies- Continue.

[a-shadowedvales]

Sometimes, just sometimes, she wished Wednesday weren't so blunt. At the core of it, the roots binding their relationship, she'd never want a single hair on her head to change, but the words she spoke so effortlessly, the remarks of death and time faded... she doesn't think she could bare it. She sought support and was met with plain honesty instead. Child has no terror of the concept itself, instilled by an overwhelming knowledge of the gloom that existed within the crust of the earth. Simmering darkness plaguing from the womb to present day. She knew Wednesday coped with her own version of that, seething below a tough exterior that Jane was lucky enough to witness in quaint moments.

"I know. I only, um..." Responded tightly, an intention to finish her trail of thought cut short, eclipsing sadness burrowing to the point that she barely knew what to say. I do not want to picture my life without you, went unsaid; those big emotive eyes of hers did the talking. When her friend continued, Janessa's concern descended, heart beating less hard. A pocket of fascination revealed itself in the stretch of her lips, head tilting to the side while watching the book carefully taken off the shelf. It was a story she once attempted to read, but certain aspects and themes felt a little too close to home. Only the first four chapters had been devoured. (The text itself much too difficult to understand, also.) "Wow... it is so pretty." Murmured beneath a small gasp, surprised at the sentimental value her friend presented.

She reached forward, fingers light and nimble hovering over the flower, afraid to properly touch it in fear it'd shatter under given force. She took charge despite apprehension, lightly brushing against the wilted gift. It felt worn and dry. Confusion practically dripped, and her hand fell like it'd been burnt, prepared to question why such a thing was deemed worthy to keep. Wednesday never failed to surprise her, even now, after all their time together. Unpredictability tied up in a perfect black ribbon.

"That is..." She jumped back an inch when the pages slammed shut, a smile gathering on her features. "That is a very nice way to think." Still sorrowful, a lingering curse of what Wednesday endured, a thought with the power to permanently wound. For now they'd make do with granted time, time shared in an unlikely partnership which initially began through a devious plan. Demise became a flavoured scent in both girls' lives, sometimes faint, oftentimes blearing; for now it was hidden deep where it need not be touched. Growing beam turned upwards and outwards, consistently bright was Janessa's soul in her company, nourishing the body into striking warmth. At this, the hour of mirth and curiousity, another thought swam about in that old, rickety head of hers.

"I do not know what I would be remembered by. If there would be a trace." It wasn't a depressing notion, nor a seek for some fraction of sympathy, but a genuine thought breaking free from enclosed confinements. "But you..." She looked away lest her cheeks tinge red, never sure how her friend might react to positive endearments. "I do not think any-one could forget you. Ever. You are too special."

continued from here. @miercolaes

[erodasfishtacos]

Cheating!h blurb where ana asks why they dont have sex or at a party and she’s trying to pull him into a room and y/n watching him try to make excuses and then next time having sex with y/n he says anna keeps trying and she has the pride he doesnt give in... or something exploring that situation

warnings: smut, cheating, angst

“Anna, I just-“ Harry huffs as she tugs him into a spare bedroom of the party after he had put up a valiant fight to keep them in the main area.

Her hands are unbuttoning his already barely buttoned shirt, running down his bare skin, and he is cut off by a sloppy kiss to his mouth.

Fear shoots up through him, it’s not YN, he doesn’t want this with her.

“C’mon, it’s been almost six months and you still haven’t touched me. Just fuck me,” Anna complains, fed up with the lack of or more like nonexsistence of their sex life.

It was near impossible to believe, someone like Harry who oozed sex out of every pore of his body wasn’t sexually active or interested in fucking his girlfriend.

When Anna takes a different approach of going for his belt buckle, mouth trailing against his collarbone, and attempting to get to his groin - which hadn’t hardened in the slightest.

“Enough,” Harry states firmly, grasping her wrists lightly and making her look at him, “I don’t want to have sex right now, okay?”

His girlfriend’s face falters, “You never want to.”

“If you don’t like it break up with me,” He hisses, knowing YN is going to get suspicious the longer they’re in a room together.

Anna, who really did have a kind heart, frowns, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I would never force you to.”

Harry just rebuttons his shirt, “S’fine. Let’s just get back to the party and have a good time, yeah?”

She nods as Harry swings his arm around her shoulder, unlocking the door, and pausing when he sees YN a bit of the ways down the corridor - staring at the two leaving the bedroom.

“I’m going to get a drink,” He dismisses bluntly, his focus set on the girl who was visible angry with him in the kitchen.

Before he can get out a word, she steps forward and swipes her thumb against his collarbone.

It comes back with the waxy substance of Anna’s bright mauve lipstick.

“Have fun in there, did you?” YN asks, she tries to keep her tone cool and unbothered by Harry sees right through it to the insecurity.

“You know I didn’t,” He replies between gritted teeth, how could she get jealous when this was all her?

He didn’t want a girlfriend.

Well he did but he only want her and she fucking knew that.

“If you wanted me to believe you, maybe you would have wiped her lipstick marks from your neck and chest,” She chuckles and it makes Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was the distinct chuckle and tone she used when she was upset but wasn’t going to admit it over her dead body.

Before he can call her out, she shoulders past him, disappearing into the dancing crowd of people and out of his side.

“Fuck,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair before trudging off to find Niall and Zayn - to distract himself.

-

“Stay the night, please?” Anna asks softly when Harry pulls up to her small, quaint little house that fit her perfectly.

“M’sorry. I have a long day tomorrow.”

It was a lie. It was rarer that he told the truth to his girlfriend than fibbing.

“So? Let’s cuddle, do something,” She begs, frustrated with her emotionally and sometimes physically distant boyfriend.

Harry shakes his head, “Maybe next weekend.”

He always said that.

It never happened.

—

As soon as he drops off Anna, his next stop is a route that is ingrained in his head front and backwards, her apartment.

He has a key, doesn’t bother knocking and just barges into the dimly lit house with her shoes tossed clumsily on the floor - almost trips.

When he finds her, she’s in a towel - freshly showered, and brushing through her hair in her small walk-in closet.

She heard him come in, knew he was storming in here, and still didn’t turn around when he slammed open her bedroom door.

He’s crowding behind her, knocking the brush out of her hand, and pinning her to the wall, “You’re so bloody ridiculous. You jealous little brat.”

YN doesn’t respond, her body still wound tight with tension and a gluttonous feeling of rage for earlier in the night.

“Been fuckin’ you and only you since I was seventeen. Y’know that I didn’t fuck her, didn’t even touch her and you still have the nerve to act like a crybaby,” Harry seethes, his whole chest pressed against her back, no room to escape.

“Her lipstick was all over you,” She argues back weakly when his hands come to the knot in her towel, teasing at unraveling.

“Yeah because she was begging me to fuck her and I said ‘no’ so she tried to get in my pants and I pushed her off.”

“Why?” YN murmurs, quiet in the small space.

“You fuckin’ know why,” Harry growls with his teeth grazing across her bare shoulder blade.

“Say it.”

“I pushed her off ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve fucked since I was seventeen. My cock is yours,” He rasps, untying the knot and letting the towel drop.

He wishes she would just end all this bullshit.

Let him have her fully and completely but she was so fucking afraid of getting hurt when it wouldn’t happen.

“Go on, tell me who owns this cunt,” Harry demands, hand tucking between her thick thighs to cup her puffy mound in his hand.

“H,” She whimpers as his finger lightly slides up the wet groove of her center with a careful drag.

When she doesn’t give him the answer he wants, he gives her clit a hard pinch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.���

“Yours, fuck - it’s yours,” YN huffs at the slight but welcome pain on her nerves - relaxing when it returns to soft strokes.

“Anna is pretty, y’know? Had her on me, kissing my neck, unbuttoning my shirt and shit,” Harry hums against her ear, two fingers sinking into the tight heat of her body.

He continues, “Didn’t even get hard when that happened. That’s how fucking trained I am for you. What a tight fucking leash you have me on.”

YN turns a bit into putty at his words, insecurity slow flooding out of her body, and feeling more like how she usually does.

“How do y’ever forget? How much I love you?” He asks in true disbelief, it literally oozes through his pores how much he adores his high school sweetheart.

“Don’t-“ She squeaks desperately.

“Why won’t you let me tell you how much I love you, baby?”

His voice like dark, sweet honey that seeps into her every nerve-ending and makes her feel lethargic, in a boneless silky way.

“Stop plea- Just touch me,” YN begs when his fingers crook into against her plushy, tight walls with focused strokes.

“You need to admit it, y’stubborn little thing. I know how in love you are with me,” Harry pushes, needing to hear validation from his favorite person on this earth.

He squats down, spreading her cheeks, and leaning in to lick from the top of clit all the way back to her other entrance.

His large palms keeping her apart, digging into the thick skin until his fingers are white - tongue finding her core and darting in to her most sensitive area.

“H, oh my god,” YN moans, head falling forward against the wall, pushing her hips backward into his mouth.

“Darling, c’mon. Show me how sweet y’can be f’me,” Harry goads encouragingly, it always took a little bit of effort to get her to break.

“I love you….s’much,” She whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he rewards her with a suckling kiss to her clit and slips his fingers back in.

“I know y’do, baby. You know I’d never give it to anyone but you,” Harry coos, anything to get her to soften her harsh edges, chip away at her stone wall.

Her hand reaches behind to weave through his hair, her stomach sucking in harshly as she feels her tight band snap as she releases.

“O-oh, you’re mine. Y’mine,” His love chants as she rides out her intense wave of her orgasm as he helps her through it.

“M’yours,” Harry agrees immediately, standing up and a smile breaks on his face when she turns around and wraps him into a hug.

“I love you. I know you didn’t touch her. I just hate it,” YN murmurs softly, undoing his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders.

His smile fades at her words, “Then make it stop. The minute you tell me you’re ready to make this work, I’ll break up with her.”

“I’m no-not ready,” She stammers, eyes widening like a deer in headlights at his words.

So afraid. So fucking scared.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes when he sees her chest start to rise faster and faster with anxiety.

He doesn’t want to drop it.

He wants to shake her and ask her how the fuck she doesn’t see that they’re already in a relationship and she’s being blinded by irrational fears.

Harry waddles them over to her messy bed, pushing her back and adjusting until she’s in the center - staring at him with doe eyes.

He loves her so much it hurts to look at her for too long.

When he tugs off his jeans, taking his phone out to put on the side table - he sees an unread text from Anna.

I’m sorry about earlier. I really want to make it work with you. You’re a great guy x

Harry should feel bad. Maybe his stomach should have dropped or something at how awful he’s being to that girl.

But when his love is splayed out, pliant and malleable for him, he can’t find an ounce of fucks to give as he tosses it on the bedside table.

He had been in love with this girl since he was sixteen, never fell out of it, he was addicted to her - willing to go through all this bullshit if it meant he had her.

It always felt like the first time, crawling on top of her, and bending down to pull her puffy lips into a strong kiss as he slides in, always a pleasant stretch.

As they move together, in a familiar rhythm, she murmurs against his lips, “One day, I’ll be ready.”

“Please, make it soon, darlin’,” Harry pleas, swallowing harshly before pushing his emotions into hard, deep thrusts.

[yeoldontknow]

hi kat! i've been following you since 2018 and i can't remember if you've ever done a drabble game while i've been here. this is really exciting for me and the first time i'm requesting something from you! can i have hero ! chanyeol and blind date au? hero is my favorite story of yours. it's the first thing i've read!

eee hi anon! im so happy to hear you love hero! i love it so much too ;~~; and wow! 2018 is a long time! this makes me so happy! 

send me a chanyeol + a prompt!

Verse: Hero + Blind Date Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female (not hero tho T^T) Rating: R Warnings: sexual themes; dark themes; oral fixation; angst; chanyeol is way way way too hot for his own good why did i make someone so powerful Word count: 1.3K

Resting your chin upon your hand, you slump into your seat as you twirl the base of your wine glass against the smooth table. Everything about your posture is certainly unflattering, the fabric of your dress straining against the shape your spine has contorted into, but you don’t really have it in you to care. 

This wasn’t your idea, your inability to say no to your overly supportive friend on top of your aversion to men - all men - making for a deeply uncomfortable evening. Perhaps, you think, you would have moved past this odd sense of unease if he had been on time, but one look at your watch and you’re starting to think thirty minutes spent idly waiting is plenty enough. 

You at least had the decency to be on time.

For the third time this evening, the waitress comes to stand beside your table, casting you a solemn expression as she refills your water. Feeling this pathetic doesn’t really look good on you, but you gave up an evening of true crime documentaries, popcorn, and soft blankets for shoes that make your heels hurt and lipstick that leaves darkened marks on the rim of your glass. The red smears fade from crimson to dull burgundy the longer you wait, tracking the passage of time just in case you had forgotten to check your phone. 

Falling back against the chair with a frustrated sigh, you tap your phone to check the time once more. Two more minutes have lumbered by and you offer her a smile, hollow, empty, grim. She smiles back, sweet and soft and pretty, and you wonder if she’s ever been stood up. 

‘I’ll bring you some cake,’ she says quietly. ‘Dresses like this deserve to be indulged.’ 

With a wink, she turns away and moves towards the kitchen. Folding your hands in your lap, you smile, softened by her kindness and letting a flush of warmth settle in your cheeks. You’d intended to ask for the check, but the cake deserves a chance and, maybe, if you are very lucky, she might stay by your table a few minutes longer to listen to your dejected ranting. Women are always supportive like that, united without needing to know one another’s names. 

Abruptly a man settles into the seat across from you, sliding the chair forward silently before casting you a serious expression. Crossing one leg over the other, he reclines in his seat, all poise and power, the light from the ceiling putting fire in the red and orange strands of his hair, and you feel your stomach drop into your groin. 

The collar of his fitted shirt remains unbuttoned, leaving a tantalizing patch of skin from his neck down to his collar bones exposed. Even the navy blue suit coat does little to mask the strength that waits beneath his muscles. Full lips drawn into a pout, he knits his brow together and considers you with a darkness that makes your thighs clench. 

‘Hoseok?’ you ask quietly, the silence between you both heavy enough your skin begins to grow tight over your limbs.

The man simply cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing you seriously. Wringing your fingers together beneath the table, you find his expression is akin to a wildfire, gaze roaming over your features with a hunger that makes you want to wither. He roots himself inside your ribs as he looks and looks, taking what he can from your small expression of shock, and you look away, deciding instead to study the shape and curve of his ears. This man pulls things from you, takes things from you, awakens the ugly feelings that live within your belly as though they are pretty, beautiful, worthy.

Looking at him too long has you ready to embrace the intimacy that comes with being ruined, and you want to remember yourself enough to punish him. He was late, you remind yourself, and if he wants to turn you into something monstrous than he, too, shall not be free of your wrath.

At the sound of the name, he merely shakes his head, expression falling into a curt frown. 

‘Chanyeol,’ he says abruptly, and disappointment floods you.

This man is not yours.

Wondrous things are never yours.

The waitress returns once more holding a ceramic plate full of chocolate cake. Eyes widening, she takes in your sudden partner, looking to you with joy. 

‘I’ll bring another fork,’ she says, holding her try to her chest with glee as she looks between you and Chanyeol. ‘Enjoy.’

Chanyeol doesn’t take his eyes off you as he reaches for your fork and cuts through the moist dessert, gathering a large bite. He eats it with vigor, humming in pleasure as he slowly slides the fork from his lips. Cocking a brow, he swallows slowly, seductive, mesmerizing, licking his lips with a smile that says he has an appetite that has never once been sated. Placing the fork back on your napkin, he exhales through his nose and runs his tongue over his teeth, your heart thundering against your sternum. 

What would you give to be tasted like that? To be savored?

‘It’s sweet,’ he praises, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits for you to eat. ‘I hope you like it rich.’

On instinct, your shoulders roll back, arching forward to present your breasts, your chest to him, hoping he will place his teeth, chocolate covered and sugar coated, right over where your heart beats. He’s all wrong - the wrong man, the wrong features, the wrong description. Hoseok is sunlight - that’s what your friend said. Hoseok is sunlight and bright smiles and high cheeks that catch the light. He cleans up well, carries strength in his hands, and grows dark only when it is a question of work, sex, and money. 

This man is made of moonlight, skin holding the sun that he has swallowed and carving shadows beneath the bones of his cheeks. His softness is an illusion, a mirage of kindness that once lived and wishes to live again, deceptive in its magnetism. Chanyeol eats the darkness, an inferno boiling in his blood, and you can smell him - the nothing that encompasses him and the musk that seeps from him, a contradiction, an impossible thing, here and gone the next.

If you look away, you fear you might forget him. And so you continue to look, mouth wet, core wet, all of you hoping to drip into his waiting belly. 

‘I’m sorry, who are you?’ You stumble over your words, childish and overcome.

But he does not seem to mind, simply shrugs his shoulders and keeps on watching you, waiting, seething. 

‘I seem to have the wrong table,’ he explains, ‘but you’re all laid out like a rich meal, some kind of magic. Why don’t you dine with me.’

It is not a question, but a statement. A command. Deep in the back of your mind, there is a whisper, a promise of endings becoming beginnings, and you lean into it, finding the fear that lives within your veins. He arouses all of it, the fear that so often gets masked as exhilaration, but he looks at you, sees you, unmakes you. 

You have an aversion to men, but you do not see him as one. Instead, you see him as a beast, a wild thing untamed, and the wild thing has chosen you.

The indecisiveness of your silence instigates his impatience. Uncrossing his legs, he leans against the table and casts you a look that speaks of gluttony.

‘I can smell your heart.’Thoughtlessly, your legs part beneath the table, and he takes in a long inhale, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. ‘It’s hungry just as I am. The way you’re looking at me is a sort of eating that feels limitless.’ 

Taking the fork once more, he drags it through the cake to gather a piece and holds it before the seam of your lips.

 ‘We eat the things we like, don’t we?’ he whispers, the deep rumble of his voice like thunder against your bones. ‘Dine with me.’

Opening your mouth, he slides the cake against your tongue and, at once, you agree.

Your heart is a hunger that turns the world into a spoon, and it has finally found its match. 

[onwesterlywinds]

In Marble Halls

All her life, -̴̠̘̎-̶̮̬̽̕-̴͙̀̕͜-̴̧̘͐͒-̶̘̰̒̈́-̴̩̏͛-̶̮̬̽̕-̴͙̀̕͜-̴̧̘͐͒-̶̘̰̒̈́-̴̩̏͛ͅ- had dreamt of a storm fit for the end of the world. The rain would fall and the lake would rise, such that the water would drown out the last vestiges of the only home she had ever known until only Gruenes Licht yet stood. The thunder would crash and the clouds would roll and the great castle would weather it all, not as a beacon of hope but as an empty warning, a testament unearned.

She ran now through that dream made manifest.

The cobbled streets below were already flooded with a fulm of water as far as she could see. The houses around her sat dark, many of them with their doors flung open to the tempest in their residents' haste to flee in the exodus; the chapel's rear steeple had given way, and dark water gushed out from under the tall oak doors as if from a backed-up drain. With one hand she clasped at her star globe; with the other, she tore free her stifling wet bodice, hiked up the hem of her sodden petticoats and hurried onward to the great castle stairs.

She was the last of them all. Her parents had abandoned their post; her brother's transformation into a sin eater was surely all but complete. Her fellow ladies-in-waiting had been taken by the darkness, one by one. Tadric had usurped Pauldia, destroyed Sauldia-

But he had not taken her.

And of all the court, only she had realized Branden's greatest failure: the archmage was not dead.

And she would bring him to justice, but not alone.

And there was hope - not for Voeburt, perhaps, but for another to find in some far-flung future.

She ascended the marble steps to the palace as hail began to pelt her skin. Her legs burned with fatigue from the distance they had run, and still the worst of the climb stretched up ahead of her. Worse yet, the marble would be hazardous at a run: a single misplaced step could cause a painful slip at best and a deadly fall at worst, but her feet were all she had to avail her now.

Once ascended, she paused for only a moment by the overrunning fountain to catch her breath, and to stare out from the castle's heights at her swiftly submerging homeland. Deep in her heart she knew the godsforsaken visage would be the last she ever saw of it. At first the sight was nearly too much to bear, given the weight of an entire kingdom broken below her. Yet even then, the knowledge that she would be the sole witness to Voeburt's destruction provided comfort and purpose. She alone would shoulder this memory, lock it deep in her heart, and guard it so fiercely that no others would need endure it in her stead.

A heartening chorus, as if of tiny bells, resounded encouragingly in her ear. With that sound accompanying her final steps, she shook out her skirts and readied the pendant she kept on her person at all times: the last remaining key to the palace's doors.

Despite the Light raging outside, the grand hall within sat utterly dark and still. The arched stone ceiling high above remained blessedly intact, granting her a reprieve from the endless torrent of rain for the first time since she'd begun her trek. Even the pattering upon the darkened stained glass sounded to be of a much greater distance away, rather than the same tempest that had consumed the rest of Voeburt.

Then there came the heavy clap of a man's hands, and with it, a single flicker of light illuminated a ghostly figure at the far end of the hall.

"There you are, my dear." His words echoed throughout the chamber as if from an age apart, or else from within a far corner of her own mind. "I knew you would not keep me waiting long."

"TADRIC!" she screamed. The noise echoed back at her amid the oppressive darkness, and her star globe sprang to readiness with the merest flick of her wrist.

He stepped forward, again and again, and his voice grew ever stronger. "Oh, how pleased I am you've come. Your soul will make for such excellent company."

"How dare you, fiend!" she retorted. "By rights you should be dead!"

"Indeed so," he agreed. "I certainly had not anticipated any part of me lingering here. I regret only that I have Beq Lugg and their work on the mortal soul to credit for this... turn of events, but it is a welcome development nonetheless. Overcoming one's mortality grants the most splendid boons - though I imagine you would struggle to relate."

At that, she could only seethe.

He gave a quiet little tut. "That's right, darling. You know I've had the measure of you for years." His smile had always been unsettling in life; on his ghost, it was terrifying. "All that time, and yet it's taken nothing less than the end of the world for you to confront me."

"Enough!"

"Oh, yes. I trust you'll remain so beautifully fierce when I bind your exquisite soul to mine." Tadric was halfway across the hall now, and his outline appeared to grow more and more opaque in the darkness. Even now she could make out the shine of his boots, the meticulous detailing on his robes, the glimmer of a reflection across his sharpened teeth. "I've no doubt you'll last longer than Pauldia did - nor that you'll be far more pleasing to the eye than she was at the end. Or do you truly think yourself enough to hinder me? Alone as you are, with only your little cards for guidance, and none of your kin to aid you?"

It would have to be enough. She would have to be enough. There could be no more Sauldias, no more Pauldias, no matter the sacrifice it would take.

"No," Tadric continued, as if the conclusion had only just struck him. "You cannot harm me. Not now, and certainly not here, in this castle you usurped for so long. You forget I know the way of your wretched kind."

She was undoubtedly within range of his magicks, but he was not yet in range of hers. Only a little further, only a single step more, and she could fall as long as she liked-

"'To take back as much as is taken. To create as much as is destroyed. To give as much as is received...'"

The words she had once sought as a reprieve were poison from his lips, rotten to their very core.

"...And you, my dearest, have a heavy debt to repay."

Far better to repay that debt here, in the service of her kingdom, no matter the cost. "And repay it I shall," she whispered.

"Hm?"

She spoke then the words her friend had taught her - the words she had carried deep in her heart throughout all her years.

"Acht-la ormh inn."

The castle doors burst open at her invitation, showering her in droplets of rain and sleet that glimmered against the light from her star globe and refracted like stained glass upon the walls. Her friend flew in at her back, little more than a diminutive flash of crystalline hair and bright blue petals; yet as they circled the chamber, faster and faster, they dazzled the hall in a shower of fae dust and grew to their full height, where their wings unfurled like pennants in the wind.

"Ready yourself, dear flower!" they shouted.

Upon herself she cast a shield; for her friend, she drew forth the card she had kept in reserve all through her trek: The Spire. In the same instant, they unleashed bursts of pure energy, stellar explosions and fae quickenings in tandem.

Tadric's ghost recoiled, his face contorting in rage or pain. Bathed in the full majesty of the King of the Faeries and trapped by patterns of stars, his form took on an harshness of its own as the Light gathered from the storm without needled its way into his soul, splinter by splinter, and corrupted him from within.

"This- isn't- over!" Tadric spat at her, through the waves of raw Light that bubbled up from behind his lips. "You stupid girl. You worthless bloody changeling!"

Titania cried, "Now!"

And when she stretched out her hand, she called upon the might of the heavens to bind the castle and everything in it - Tadric, the king, herself - into the space of a singular moment.

That moment stretched out across the foreseeable future, across endless possible endings, and ignited in a burst of color.

When the spell faded, Tadric's ghost was gone. The world around her was utterly, impossibly still. The sound of the rains had ceased; the distant echo of Light rang out no more. Only Tadric's memory remained, his laughter echoing within her ears - a nightmare from which she could only hope to find reprieve. The palace doors were shut tight and would not open ever again.

And then Titania spoke into the silence.

"Lyhe Il. Oh, dear, brave flower. It is over at last."

She was weeping, she realized; the king had drawn her into an embrace as soft as a field of clover and as gentle as a warm midsummer's day. She collapsed against their touch, impossibly weak and weary and wanting.

"Hush now," they whispered, and pressed their lips to her forehead. "Sleep, and dream of rainbows and meadows and northerly winds, for you have more than earned your name."

"N-No!" she sobbed, clutching at the fae king's shoulder. "I h-have to stay with you, I-I must ensure-"

"He is gone, my flower, in all the ways that matter. All that yet remains is to expel the last traces of him - and there is time enough for such a task in the years to come. Until then, I would not risk your safety while you abide here."

Years. Such a gentle word for the surety of their imprisonment. "But-" Her tears overtook her again, and Titania cradled her ever more tightly. "I couldn't possibly leave you on your own, and with so much Light! Who will you play with; who will you dance with?!"

Titania traced one of their thin fingers along the curve of her nose, liberating a stray tear. "I entered this castle on your invitation and my own intentions - and here I shall stay, on behalf of our people. It will be comfort enough to know that my flower has found the peace she has sought for so long - and that she rests as a hero to Voeburt and the fae alike."

Yet peace still seemed so nebulous a prospect, as remote as the stars themselves. Peace could not grant her a retroactive belonging among Voeburt's people and court; it could not suppress the abject ache for understanding with which she had come of age in her awkward Galdjent skin. She had given all of herself for both her peoples, her past and her present and her future, and still she could not unmake the years of her own solitude. Only Titania had ever granted her such a reprieve.

If the King of the Pixies wished her to dream, then dream she would.

"Be with me," she whispered. "I know I will wake up without you-" She did not dare wonder what travesties the Light would wreak upon the king during their solitude. "-but until then... do not ask me to fall asleep alone."

Titania acquiesced to this final wish with a single kiss goodnight, and began to sing.

Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh; So, good night, with lullaby.

As her eyes closed, she stared up at the kaleidoscopic light streaming in from the stained glass windows far above.

The sight was so lovely as to push all thoughts of the storm from her mind.

[anjanettexcordonia]

Lady Liberty

*Trigger Warnings* -NSFW, Fluff  Pairing: Riley x OC, Liam x MC, Liam x Riley Word Count:3,348 Excuse any grammatical errors or misspellings. My first attempt at fluff. Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry & some dialogue. 

Thank you to @texaskitten30 for pre-reading & helping me get through my writers block at the end! 

Summary: Riley turns Liam down for drinks after their initial meeting at her bar. They have a serendipitous meeting later that night. Will Liam find is way to Riley’s heart? 

Song Inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMEOOgotuEs Love You Like The Movies- Anthem Lights

.

.

.

“Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss?” 

“Uh, Riley”

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley.”

“The pleasure is all mine. It’s nice to meet you. Now let me put your order in. Be right back!”

Later that evening, a little after the bar has closed, you’re finishing up when someone taps you on the shoulder…

“I think we are about ready to head out. I just wanted to thank you… and apologize. I know we kept you late, and my friends can be demanding.” 

“Demanding? Nothing I couldn’t handle.” 

“I got the feeling that you could take care of yourself. If you don’t have any other plans tonight, maybe I can make it up to you by buying you a drink. We’re about to go to a club.”

“Oh? Which one?”

“We were hoping you might have some advice about that. We’re not from around here.” 

“I recommend going to the hottest club in town Kismet.” 

“I would love to show you guys around but I’ve already made plans tonight. ” Riley replies. Liam looks down at his hands. “It was very nice to meet you Riley. I hope you have a wonderful night.” 

.

.

. 

After her shift is over, she quickly changes into her short emerald dress and walks out of the bar with her bag and phone in hand. Riley couldn’t wait to see Ezra, they had been dating for two years. And this was the night! Her life was about to change, she could feel it.

Ping. Riley pulls her phone out to check the text message she received.

Ezra: I’m sorry.

Riley: What’s wrong? What happened Ez? 

Riley waited for a response. Nothing. She pressed the call button. The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up and try your call again. End. 

Riley stood up and raced to hail a cab to her apartment. Riley burst through the door moments later. It’s dark and silent. “Ezra? Ezra where are you? EZRA?” She screams his name while she checks every room in the apartment. 

When she gets to the master bedroom, an envelope propped up against the pillows catches her eye.

Riley. 

She tears the envelope open and pulls out the handwritten letter.

“Riley, 

I’m sorry for what I’m about to tell you. I received a job offer in California. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to uproot your life in New York. I’ve always loved and always will. I know you were expecting a proposal and for that I’m truly sorry. I hope you find the person that deserves your whole heart. I’ll always carry a piece of you with me. 

I’ll always love you, 

Ezra” 

Riley sits on her bed, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Riley crumbled the letter in her hand while she seethed with anger. She shot up off the bed and ran to his dresser drawer. She threw open the drawers with a force that pulled the drawer completely off its track and threw the drawer across the room. The drawer hit the wall and splintered into pieces. 

How could he do this? I would have gone with him. She wondered to herself. She was confused, hurt and angry. She had to get out of her apartment, their apartment. Riley grabbed her keys and marched out the door. She had no idea where she was going. 

An hour had gone by of Riley wandering around the busy streets of the city that never sleeps. She found herself in Battery Park. Exactly where she was supposed to meet Ezra. Where he was supposed to propose. She sat on an empty bench and stared at the beautiful symbol of freedom in front of her. The Statue of Liberty.

“Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free” Riley whispered and the tears started. She put her head in her hands and let the tears flow, the more they flowed the harder she sobbed. 

“Are you okay, miss?” 

Riley snapped her head up at the smooth baritone voice. “Uh.. yeah sorry.. I..uh..” she wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Riley right? From the bar earlier tonight? It’s me, Liam, you were my waitress” 

“Oh yea, did you and your friends ever make it to Kismet?” 

“We did. Not my scene.” Liam shrugged. “Is everything alright Riley? I didn’t mean to disturb you but didn’t seem okay.” Fuck. Riley thought. “Yeah just a shitty night. What brings you to this view?” She asks, attempting to change the subject. Who is this stranger? And why does he care why someone is crying on a damn bench. “The statue was the one place I wanted to visit before we leave tomorrow but my friends weren’t interested.” Liam shrugged.  “This is where I was supposed to be tonight but things didn’t go as planned for me either. What do you say we go see her together?” Riley smiled. Oh fuck. What are you doing Riley? Ezra just left a few hours ago. There’s something about this stranger though. Riley pulls out her phone and makes a few phone calls to arrange a boat. Twice in one night. Not a coincidence Li. Fuck she’s gorgeous. I need to know why she was crying. Who did that to her? There’s something about her and I have to find out what it is. The boat reaches the dock and they board. “Wow this is nice” Liam was surprised by the elegance of the boat and the fully stocked bar in front of them. “I have connections,” Riley said, grabbing two champagne flutes and a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon. Liam took the bottle from her, popped the cork and filled both of their glasses. By the time they reached the statue they were on their second bottle of Dom. They were enjoying laughing together and forgetting all their troubles. They found solace in the company of strangers. But they weren’t strangers. Their souls knew each other. Maybe in another life. Riley thought. 

Lady Liberty drifted into view. “Wow,” Liam said in awe. “She’s gorgeous.” 

“That she is.” Riley said while she downed her glass of champagne. “I need something stronger. What do you say to some..umm..” she scans the bar “Johnnie Walker? Rocks?” 

“Neat please and yes thank you.” Liam said. He continued to stare up at the symbol. “Riley, what’s your dream?” 

“Dream? I don’t understand.” 

“We’re complete strangers in the city of dreams under the largest symbol of freedom in the world. You can’t be standing here without a dream. So tell me what’s your dream?” Liam turned to look at Riley. Riley could feel his crystal blue eyes seering into her like he was seeing her deepest darkest corners of herself. 

“My dream.. “We are asleep until we fall in love”. True love. A love I don’t think really exists.” Riley’s eyes were huge. She didn’t mean to say that. Way to go Riley! You idiot. Liam cupped her face in his hands and leaned towards her. So close she felt his breath against her lips. She couldn’t resist. She knew she should stop but she didn’t want to. She melted into his touch on her cheeks. “He stepped down, trying not to look too long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking. ” Liam whispered before he pulled her into a passionate kiss. An instant electricity flowed through his veins. Riley pulled away from the kiss reluctantly. “Tolstoy” she smiled. “I should tell the captain to take us back.” 

“Oh uh yea” Liam slid his fingers through his hair. 

“We can’t use the cabin on this boat. We can go back to my place or your hotel.” Riley winked as she pressed an intercom button and informed the captain to take them back to shore. 

They decided to go back to Riley’s place. Liam didn’t want Drake, Maxwell or Tariq to disturb them. And he wanted to learn more about her. Hopefully he remembered in the morning. 

They made it hand in hand to Riley’s building. They rode the elevator to the penthouse and walked through the door. Riley lived in a spacious three bedroom modern penthouse. It had large windows all around overlooking the Hudson River and 10 foot ceilings. Riley must be well off Liam thought. Good to know. How does a waitress afford a place like this?

“This view is unparalleled Riley!” “Thanks” Riley kicks her shoes off and flops down on her Restoration Hardware Cloud Sofa. Liam turns around and sees her lying comfortably on the couch. “We have the same couch. Restoration Hardware? “Yep,” Riley laughed, “best twelves g’s I ever spent.” Liam laughed. He sat down and pulled her ankles in his lap. 

Liam glided his fingertips across her silky calves. Fuck it Riley thought. She sat up and pulled herself into his lap and kissed him so deep Liam felt dizzy. “Riley” he moaned into her lips “I don’t know what’s happening right now but I need to feel you. Every inch of you.” “Touch me Liam”  he ripped her dress right down the middle. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” They tore the rest of each other’s clothes off until they were completely bare. Liam kissed her neck to her collar bone. Riley let out a soft moan in his ear. Her nails digging into his muscular back. Liam picked her naked body up by the backs of her thighs and pushed her back into a large window. “I want the world to know I’ve been here, Riley, inside of you. You’re a masterpiece. His fingers went to her dripping core. “Mmm baby, so wet for me?” He slammed his fingers inside her and rubbed his thumb around her clit until he brought her to the brink of an orgasm. As soon as he felt her walls flutter she plunged himself inside of her. “Oh my God” Riley screamed as she came undone at his first thrust into her. “You’re so tight Riley. I could stay like this forever.” Riley pointed to her bedroom and told Liam to take them to her bed. Without ever pulling himself out of her, he walked them to her bed and laid them both down. He thrusted slowly reveling in the feel of her. “I’ve never felt anything like this, baby” Liam said as he bucked his hips into her. Her lips crashed into hers as they bucked their hips in rhythm together until they both met their release. “Liam… will you… will you.. hold me?” “I’ll never let go,” Riley smirked at his Titanic reference.

Liam laid back on the pillows with his arms wrapped tightly around Riley holding her against his chest. Liam pointed to the debris on the floor, “What happened over there? “Oh...I threw it against the wall. It’s a long story.” Riley got out of bed and grabbed her silk robe off the chair next to the bed. She tied the sash and walked out onto the balcony. She gripped the railing and took a deep breath. She had sobered up from their time at the Statue of Liberty. Liam walked out with the sheet wrapped around his waist. His arms snaking around her waist. He leaned his chin on her shoulder. 

“Liam…” Riley turned around looking into his blue eyes. “I’ve never felt like this. How I feel right now with you… I know Ezra just left. And I know how I should feel but I.. when we.. touch it’s like.. 

Liam leaned in and kissed her. His hands going under her thighs to lift her, not breaking the kiss at all. Riley pulled back. Her arms went around his neck. “Tonight I thought Ezra was going to propose. Instead I came home to a letter saying he left the country and wanted to move on. So two years wasted. That was tonight.” Liam kissed her and walked to the bed laying on top of her. “I’ll hold your hand while the ship goes down” Liam whispers in her ear. They got lost in each other again and she forgot about Ezra and he forgot about his future. 

They spent the entire night talking and getting lost in each other. He told her about his brother and the social season. About the pressure from his father now that he was the crown prince. She told him about the death of her parents and her aunt that raised her. She told him her parents had left her multiple trusts and real estate throughout the world. Liam felt a void he never knew existed being filled by her presence. 

Liam woke up forgetting where he was. He looked over and realized he was still in Riley’s penthouse. She was sound asleep with her head on his chest. 

“Riley..” Liam whispered. “Wake up beautiful” Riley stretched out and smacked Liam right in the face. She sat up stunned. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Liam laughed. “Want to have breakfast with me before I have to leave?” Liam said. 

“Sure.” She replied. 

A short while later they walked into Liam’s suite at the hotel. Riley let out a whistle. “We should have stayed here last night” she laughed. Liam smirked. “Being a prince has its perks. This is one of them.”  Liam called down for room service and ordered a whole spread of belgian waffles, cinnamon rolls, bacon, fruit.. He ordered EVERYTHING. “So Riley tell me more about you.” “Like what?” “Everything start from the beginning.” “It’s not that interesting Liam.” “Room service”, the attendant yelled from outside the suite door. Liam opened the door and pulled the cart in. He tipped the attendant, “let’s eat and you can tell me everything about you.” 

“I was born and raised in Connecticut. My parents and my brother still live there. We’re close. My parents are both attorneys and my brother followed in their footsteps.” Riley said while chewing her waffle. Liam listened intently absorbing her every word like it was his last meal. “I went to law school at NYU but ended up with a Bachelor’s in English with emphasis in creative writing. Hence working at the bar.” She laughed. “And Ezra?” Liam asked sipping his orange juice. “I might need to add some champagne to that orange juice for this.. Better yet Vodka.” She rolled her eyes. “We met in my language and logistics class. We dated for a couple years. Nothing out of the ordinary I guess. He was supposed to propose but left for a new job. Whatever. Wasn’t meant to be.” She took a big swig of her mimosa. “Did you love him?” Liam asked. Riley just stared at him. “No one has ever asked me that before.” She pondered the answer to his question. “Before yesterday I would have said yes. But now since I’ve met you… It wasn’t love. It became robotic. Honestly I’m glad he left, because I wouldn’t have been the one to call it quits. I hope the best for him wherever he is.” She shrugged. “I wish I had done everything on Earth with you” she wanted to say. 

“What about you?” She asked him. “What about me, what do you want to know?” “Everything, start from the beginning.”

“Well I was born in Cordonia obviously. My Dad is King. My mom died when I was young. My step-mom Regina is kind but ya know.. She’s not my mom. My brother Leo abdicated. He found some girl and they’re traveling the world together. I’m glad he’s happy.” “Relationships?” She sat back in her chair, full from her breakfast. “I’ve never really had an actual serious relationship. I mean don’t get me wrong, there have been women, but no one that I wanted to have breakfast with the next morning.” He winked. “Because I’m going to be King I have to have a social season to pick who will be the next queen. It’s an old and stupid tradition. But Cordonia is nothing without her traditions.”

 “Social season, what's that?”

 “Basically it’s just going through the motions and pleasing the nobles and the citizens of the country. And then at the end, I'm expected to choose the woman best fitting to run the country.” He replied. 

She could tell he didn't want to talk about this very much. “What about you?” She asked. “No one really cares about me as a person, only as the future king. I am expected to just enter into a Cordonian marriage agreement. Which is basically, a mistress. It’s a shitty concept.” Riley didn't seem fazed at all by his admission. He raised his eyebrows quizzically. “You don’t seem to care..” 

“Not really, Liam, that came out wrong. I do care about you. Not about where you come from.” 

Care about me? Where did this beautiful woman come from? 

He stood from his sweet and pulled her into a deep kiss. “Liam.. I.. what is this?” 

“Swoon, I’ll catch you.” He said against her lips. “Come home with me.”

“To Cordonia?” “What about your social season?” 

“You can join, my friend Max will sponsor you.” “But.. another country? My family..”

“Riley.. I think I’d miss you even if we never met. Please come. My soul needs you.” 

What do you have to lose Riley? A whirlwind one night stand with a Cordonian Prince. I’ve never even heard of Cordonia. She made a mental note to Google it. Mom and Dad will be livid. They might cut off my trust fund. Fuck it. He might be worth it. The way he kisses me makes me feel like he is the only thing worth it. 

“Okay Liam, I’ll come.” “Riley.. One night with you changed my life. They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true.” He whispered wrapping his arms tightly around her. “It’s the romantic quotes, isn’t it?” He laughed kissing her neck. “I want to formally introduce you to my friends, you remember them don’t you?” “Yea, I remember them. I wonder how they will react. One question though.. Love of your life?” 

“You want the moon Riley? Just say the word, and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. You changed my life. I can’t leave without you. I’ve been searching all my life for you and never even knew it.” 

'Cause suddenly, it hits me

As I watch you make believe

I want to make this your reality

And if you'll be my leading lady

Even though I may look crazy

I'll grab your hand, ask you to dance

In the middle of the street

Learn to sign, cheesy lines

Like "Baby, you complete me"And in case you forget

Where we've been and what we did

I'll write it all down, read it out loud

Again and again

“Come on, let’s go meet Drake, Max and Tariq. We have to introduce my future queen.” 

“I promise if you’ll let me, I’ll love you like the movies,” Riley said. “I’m the King of the world.” Liam replied. 

[goddessofeternity]

Chronicles of the Supernovas: Chosen

Callum

Chapter 6: Lost Children

“Help me….”

I paused and raised an eyebrow as I heard a voice. “Masami? Are you alright?” I glanced down the hall as my wife turned the corner from the kitchen. She pursed her lips as she handed me a bag full of food for our mission.

“I’m fine Callum. Are you ok?”

“Yes, I just thought I heard something. I thought you were asking for help with something. It might have just been nothing…”

“Are you sure? You have been off in your head a lot lately.”

‘That’s because I’ve been distracted by your secret.’ I brushed that thought away as I pulled her close and kissed her head. “Just really focused on work angel. Plus, I’m trying to plan out our anniversary. I think this mission is going to take some time. I’m afraid that I might miss it now.”

“Don’t you worry about that Callum. We have so many years of anniversaries to get through. Missing a few here and there will not ruin us. Besides, when you are done, we can go somewhere. This gives me more time to think of what to get you.”

“You never have to get me anything angel. Having you by my side has always been enough.” She giggled and snuggled into my chest as I kissed her head again. “I do hope this doesn’t take that long though.”

“When you get back we can continue our fun from earlier?” She looked up at me and batted her eyelashes as she stroked my beard. “That is if you aren’t too tired…”

“I always have enough energy for you Masami.” I lifted her up by her thighs and she wrapped her legs around my waist. “We could have a round right now if you’d like?”

“You have an assignment to do. I suggested when you come back so we can have a nice long loving session.” She kissed me gently before she got down from my arms. “You just let me know when you’re almost done. I’ll make your favorite.” 

“Ok angel...I’ll try to finish this quickly.” She gave me one last kiss before she waved at me as I went to the door. I stopped just before I grabbed the handle. I should ask her now, especially if we might miss our anniversary. The thought would pague me the entire time. It was now or never. I turned around quickly as Masami looked at me with a raised brow.

“Is something wrong?”

“Masami I…” Her gentle smile warmed my heart and I just couldn’t do it. I’d hate to confront her before I leave and we get into a fight about it. That was the last thing I wanted to happen between us. “I’ll miss you angel.”

“I will miss you too my love…” She blew me a kiss as I left our home. I teleported away to Lady Serafina’s temple to meet with the others. I heard Celica and Nim arguing with each other before I opened the door. Sighing deeply, I entered Lady Serafina’s throne room and smiled a bit at the bickering of Nim and Celica. Lady Serfina paid them no mind as she conversed with Ka’seem. I really wished that the two of them could get along when we aren’t on the field. They work exceptionally well together in a fight, but off field they are vicious. 

“Hey Callum! Ready to kick some ass?” I shook my head at Nerissa as she stretched out her legs on the floor. 

“I’m hoping that it won’t come to that honestly...the less fighting the better.”

“Oh there’s no fun in that…” She pouted like a child and I patted her head as I walked over to the others. Celica threw her hand up into Nim’s face effectively ending their squabble as she looked at me with a small smile.

“You all set to go Callum?”

“Yes I am. Are you?”

“Oh I’ve been ready to go. The dog was just giving me some “helpful” advice.” Nim was still seething as he growled low in his throat. “Oh? Something you have to say? Speak boy...come on I have a biscuit for you~”

“Listen you rat faced bitch! How about I put my foo-”

“Alright alright you two. Stop the fighting and let’s get going.” I turned Nim away from Celica and walked him over to Ka’seem and Lady Serafina. “You really need to stop letting her get to you. The both of you have been friends for far too long for this.”

“Friends? Tch...I wouldn’t even call us associates…”

“My apologies...I meant comrade in arms.”

“Yeah right…” He rolled his eye dramatically and I chuckled at his annoyed face.

“Come on Nim...I know that you at least respect her...somewhat…”

“I respect her skill as a fighter and status as a Goddess, but her personality is shit just like her fucking face. The woman is rotten to the core. It’s like her soul purpose in life is to be an annoying bitch.”

“Right…” I could feel the conversation going to a more negative place, but thankfully Ka’seem and Lady Serafina were done with their conversation. “Has there been any changes?”

“Nah...we’re all set to go. I just wanted to get a scope of the planet. I actually haven’t been here before, but that might have to do with Celica being stingy in her jurisdiction.”

“I just don’t want you running around my area and fucking something up.

“Hey...it’s not like I knew I was carrying an invasive species on my person….”

“It took years for that planet to recover Ka’seem. I don’t care if you and your pantheon show up in my jurisdiction. I just want you all to be more careful and aware.”

“Yes yes my bad..” Lady Serafina tucked away a planet she was constructing to address us. We lined up in front of her as she smiled at us.

“My Supernovas...I need you to exercise caution as you partake in this mission. We have no idea the scope of what the Darkness could be planning. I need you all to be through but also safe. I suspect that this is not one isolated incident. I have other things I must attend to with the other Gods and Goddesses. If you really need my assistance, you may contact me. Bring these poor beings back to their homes and families my Novas. I wish you all the very best of luck and look out for each other.” With a delicate twirl of her hand, Lady Serafina opened a portal leading to our destination.

“Thank you Lady Serafina!” We all coursed as one before we set out through the portal. After a brief blinding light, we found ourselves in a deep thicket of trees. Small creatures scurried away from us as we put away our weapons. The last thing we wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. I handed the others their food from Masami and they tucked it away into the pocket dimensions we each had for our weapons. 

“Oh Callum...have I ever mentioned how much I love your wife and how she takes care of us?” I chuckled as Nerissa took a few bites of her food and moaned in happiness.

“All the time Nerissa.” Before Masami came into our lives we would pretty much be on our own in regards to food on our missions. Most of the time we just ate what was available, which was never the best and we ended up sick. It was a struggle not to eat everything at once. Everyone often tried to pick at their food so as not to eat it all. Nerissa was already struggling on that front.

“Callum, you’re still glowing…” Celica said to me as she walked over. “You look like a damn lighthouse…”

“Oh sorry...I always forget…” Our usual godly glow was not often noticeable when in our temples or realm of the Gods. Mortal beings always lost their composure when they encountered a God. If the Darkness was really here, then our presence had to be as masked as possible. “Let’s head out and meet back up in four hours.”

“Right…” Ka’seem and Celica followed me as Nim and Nerissa went in their own direction. It was a short walk to the...village, if you could even call it that. Most of the homes were damaged and in the process of walking apart. Beggars were leaned up against decayed buildings and others were drunk and stumbling down the streets. Most looked at us with cautious eyes and others just shot us dirty glares as we walked through the village. A few buildings seemed intact, and I nodded at Celica and Ka’seem and they broke off to gather information. I looked around trying to figure out the best approach so as not to scare them off. 

“Change sir?” Feeling a tug on my pants, I looked down at a man, who looked no more than thirty with rotting teeth and a crooked smile. “Money?”

“Oh of course…” I knelt down and put some money into his hands. His eyes widened before he laughed and coughed. He clutched his chest in pain for a second, and I frowned deeply in worry.

“Do you need medical assistance?”

“I need more money...you're gonna get mugged out here with that much money on you.”

“I will take my chances.”

“You aren’t from around here are you?”

“Is it that easy to tell?” I stood back up as he smiled darkly at me. I didn’t want to risk him attacking me this early on. “I thought I was being inconspicuous.”

“A funny guy...you won’t last here.”

“Why is that?” He narrowed his eyes at me when I asked and he scoffed and looked away from me. I probably shouldn’t push the question but I needed information. “Is there a reason I should be worried about? I figured this was a quiet place despite all the crumbled buildings and such.”

“Your curiosity could get you killed here…”

“Oh?” I knelt back down and looked him hard in the eyes as I pulled a large bag of money out. “If you tell me what I want to know...then I can easily get you off the street.”

“So paying me is how you want information?”

“It seems to be the language you want to speak. I’m just acting accordingly. Now...do you want the money or not?” I jiggled the bag in front of him as his frown deepened. 

“As much as it might seem that I want money...that isn’t what I truly want.”

“Well...what is it that you want?” I watched curiously as his face changed and a deep sadness displayed in his eyes. I figured he was lying, but now I knew that he wasn’t. I didn’t want to press further for his sake, but I knew it would hopefully solve both of our issues.

“I can help-”

“No you can’t!” He roared at me as he stood up. “No one gives a damn about this sad planet! Nor does anyone care for its people!” He spit at my feet and grunted angrily as he walked away.

“That could have gone better….” I rubbed my head as I walked deeper into the town to see if the others had any luck. I spotted Celica by a broken water fountain glaring down at a homeless man who glared right back. I walked up next to her and raised a concerned eyebrow at their silent contest.

“Celica….”

“He’s thinking that he’s intimidating...but I can assure you that you’re not…” 

“Celica...stop it...I can see his breath….” Celica blinked hard and the air lost its chill. The man stopped his shivering but the glare continued nevertheless. “I think you should stop making my friend so angry...she gets rather unpleasant when she has her fits.”

“I do not have fits…” She scoffed at me and threw her hands on her hips. “I know that he knows something and he’s being a bitch about it.”

“The only bitch I see around here is you!”

“You little-” I pulled her away before her boot connected with the man’s face. Moving her behind a building, I gave her a look and she rolled her eyes. “I was only going to break him a little bit.”

”Low profile Celica….we need to find Ka’seem now. I haven’t seen him in quite some time.”

“He might have found something not in the town. Although there is something that I have noticed and I don’t like it one bit.”

“What would that be?” She crossed her arms and let out a breath as she gave me a hard, but worried look.

“I haven’t seen a single child…” My eyes widened as I turned and looked around the empty square. She was right. Even those who were homeless and poor, managed to have children of their own.   Seeing at least one child would have been preferred. Perhaps that is why it seemed eerily quiet in the town,  we were sent to a relatively populated area, but it seemed that it was not the case. 

“The Darkness….”

“It has been some time since the Darkness did anything with children. The thought of it is making me sick, and is making this a more urgent matter.” She shuffled in place before she huffed and walked off. “I’m going to check  that bar and see if I can find anything. Callum...we can’t allow the Darkness to massacre children again...not again.”

“I know Celica...go.” She nodded before heading to the bar. I wasted no time either as I went looking around the town. I needed someone, anyone to tell me what was going on in this place. The people on this planet are too closed off and scared. Whatever happened here happened recently, but it also gives us an advantage. There was still time to hopefully find the kidnapped children, and that was only if they hadn't been killed yet.

“Please…” I stopped as I heard a prayer pass through my mind. I stopped abruptly as I heard crying in a nearby alleyway. I furrowed my brow as I went to investigate it. I stopped as  I saw a woman in deep prayer with her face pressed into the dirt. I knelt beside her and placed my hand on her trembling shoulder, she didn’t even flinch as she kept saying her prayer.

“Ma’am...are you alright?” She finally looked up at me and her eyes shone with fresh tears ready to fall any second. “What is making you upset?”

“M-My son...he was t-taken from me…” I straightened my shoulders back as I frowned deeply.

“Who took your son?”

“It doesn’t matter. How would you be able to help me? No one cares about the people here...no one cares about my son!”

“I care ma’am. I specifically came here to assist the people here. Just tell me what happened to all of the children in this town.” I smiled at her to ease a bit of her worries and it seemed to work as she wiped her eyes and fully faced me.

“T-The children started being taken about a month ago. Men in dark clothes came and demanded that we hand our children over. Most of the adults offered themselves, but they were only interested in the children. Those that fought were killed quickly or injured for their actions. I tried to take my son and leave but...but I wasn’t quick enough.”

“I’m sorry…” She burst into tears again and my heart ached for her and the other parents that lost their children. “What did your son look like?”

“He...he has short curly hair like mine and bright g-green eyes. His name is Brian and he has a mole on his left shoulder. He’s a sweet boy...he doesn’t deserve this…”

“I will bring your son back to you...my friends and I will bring back all of the children who have been taken from their families.”

“W-What?” Her face betrayed the hope I could hear in her voice, but I smiled regardless and she gave me a weak one back. “You..you will? How?”

“My friends and I do deeds like this for a living. I will bring Brian back, I promise.” 

“Thank you! Thank you!” As I stood up, she knelt at my feet and cried harder. “Bless you sir...I thank the gods for your kindness!” 

“You don’t need to thank me. You just hold on a bit longer, that is all that I ask.” She nodded as I handed her a tissue and she wiped at her face. Leaving her alone, an unimaginable sadness flowed right through me. I knew that I should have never promised to bring her son back. The Darkness had always been an unhinged force. I know when we inform the others about the missing children they will all have the same thought.

Almost half of the missing...will be dead.

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

Next: https://goddessofeternity.tumblr.com/post/653031863907221504/chronicles-of-the-supernovas-chosen

Previous: https://goddessofeternity.tumblr.com/post/653031081005760512/chronicles-of-the-supernovas-chosen

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! Likes are welcomed!

[squirrelacorngliterfarts]

Blood. Chapter 2. 1.

Everything Taglist: @gold-dragon-slayer​ @your-internet-granny​

@darkwhisperswolf@youbloodymadgenius​  @thelastemzy​ 

@inforapound @supermassiveblackhope @captstefanbrandt @roonil-wxzlib   @syreni-dea  @cynthianokamaria @rosiebrosie @loliismutt @pinkisokay @heavenly1927​ @annekleyn​

happy first day of spring! be safe! 

wanna start from the beginning? haven’t read the first part? start here!  Blood 1 Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death.

the silence is deafening, the feeling of dread settles in the lothbrok children, especially the young girl who is crying and gripping the edge of the boat her lost brother is laying in.

she’s feeling the comforting arms of her older brother ubbe, who’s trying to retract her away from the boat.

hvitserk, the third oldest is looking anywhere but her, the sight breaking his heart.

bjorn, the oldest is looking between all the young siblings, his eyes struggling to rest on sigurd.

and ivar, the youngest, is sitting on a chair from the bottom of the boat, looking at the brother that lay pale and unmoving, the brother that’s gone, that’s dead. 

the brother he killed.

tears fall from his eyes as he tries to meet her gaze, but all he sees is pain, pain he caused.

he wants to call her name, he wants to embrace her. 

but he can’t find the will to.

she, along with ubbe, crawls into the boat, laying down sigurds belongings and gifts for him to aid him into his journey to valhalla.

(y/n) sobs, pressing a kiss to sigurds cheeks.

“i love you, my brother” she whimpers, ubbe picking her up out of the boat and keeping her tucked to his side.

this day.......to see her brother, the man she grew up, but now she knows they won’t grow old together, experience each other’s families.

their story together was finished, and that thought alone made (y/n) feel an overwhelming sadness she hadn’t felt since her mother and father died.

just days prior she thought of her remaining families fate, what they’d accomplish, who they’d grow to be.

but now, those thoughts were faded.

(Y/n) closes her eyes, feeling hvitserk take her from ubbe’s arms, his kisses soft against her forehead and cheek, his hands running up and down her sides comfortingly.

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

(y/n) is sat down on a large crate, her feet dangling, her eyes glaring at the muddy ground within the tent.

bjorn comes in, opening the flap of the tent, adjusting himself against the wall.

ivar is sitting at the table, configuring his words, not knowing where  to start.

this was the first time the siblings were all in one room since sigurds death.

it was a hard pill to swallow, having ivar this close since then. (y/n) looks at him through her lashes, finding him staring at her with hurt and remorse.

she didn’t know what to say, or how to accept the feeling that surged through her with that look.

she wants to hold him close to her chest and forget about everything that happened.

but she can’t.

“i know what you’re all thinking” ivar says, his voice quiet and croaky from not speaking for so long.

“but it is not true!. i didn’t mean to kill him. he made me kill him”.

bjorn scoffs, turning away from ivar, looking towards their young sister who was struggling with hearing his words.

bjorns instinct was to get her out of there, and honestly?, ubbe felt the same.

she didn’t need to be hearing this.

but they didn’t need to push her, parent her in a time like this, she needed them, and somewhere deep within their souls they knew they needed her too.

“he taunted me. he made fun of me. what was i supposed to do?”.

deal with your anger elsewhere.

is what (y/n) wanted to say, but she decides to keep her mouth shut.

“what kind of a man taunts and tell lies about his own brother?”.

“and what lies did he tell?” hvitserk says, his eyes looking to (y/n) every now and then, making sure she was okay.

but was she ever going to be after this?.

“well, you know that as well as i do, hvitserk” ivar says, his face growing with anger, knowing his brothers didn’t believe him.

“he said you weren’t a real man” ubbe says, almost telling ivar, in a way, it was a simple taunt. nothing to be killed over.

but of course, ubbe did not know the truth behind sigurds words.

“and what would you have done if he had said that to you, ubbe?. what would you have done if you were ‘a real man’?”.

ubbe walks over towards ivar then, and gets in his face, pointing towards (y/n).

“i don’t care about my feelings, ivar. i would have walked away. i certainly wouldn’t have put (y/n)’s life in danger”.

ivar glares at him, seething his words out venomously.

“i didn’t put her life in danger. i would never”.

“you threw an axe in her direction! if sigurd wouldn’t have pushed her out of the way in time, it would have been her life that was taken! you could of killed her!”.

“i didn’t!  i didn’t mean to kill him! my rage blinded me! i couldn’t even see her! i would have never threw it if i knew she was there!” ivar shouted.

“stop it!” (y/n) says loudly, causing the men to look at her with wide eyes. “there is too much heaviness, to much sadness, i can’t bare to hear you two fight”.

ivar relaxes in his chair, looking away from both ubbe and (y/n), focusing his eyes on the table in front of him.

ubbe says nothing, solemnly sipping from his mug, letting the ale swallow his emotions.

“i swear to the gods and everything that is sacred that i never meant to kill him. anger overcame me. and i wasn’t thinking. i am truly sorry” ivar finishes, there was nothing else to be said. he collects his things and crawling out of his chair, leaving the tent, letting his eyes linger on (y/n) before exiting.

she breathes a sigh, not being able to not believe him.

she did believe him.

she knew ivar better than anyone in that tent, knew all his dark secrets and all his deepest thoughts, she could tell by the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice, he was being truthful.

but maybe...........maybe she wasn’t reading him properly, maybe he was lying, maybe this time she wasn’t able to understand him and his mind.

and that’s what scares her.

his anger was a force to be reckoned with, nothing could stop ivar when he was enraged.

what would happen if she were to say the wrong thing to him?, accidently?.

she’d like to think that ivar loved her too much to ever put her in a situation like that.

but who knows?.

she thought, despite all the arguments, that ivar too loved sigurd.

she runs her hands over her face in frustration, hopping down from the crate. her bare feet landing in the dirt.

“where are you going?” ubbe asks, coming to her side.

she nods towards the tent’s entrance.

“you know where”.

ubbe ponders her words for a moment, before placing his palm on her cheek.

“are you sure that is the best thing?, maybe i can come with-”.

she overlaps her palm over his.

“i think i need to talk to him alone. i’ll be fine”.

ubbe sighs, but accepts her words, embracing her chastly before watching her walk away.

“i wouldn’t have done that” bjorn says, taking a mug of ale from hvitserks offering hand. “you honestly think her alone with him is the best thing right now?”.

“it is the only thing i can do right now to keep her head on straight. you seen what ragnar and aslaugs deaths did to her, i don’t want her to lose herself again, i will do whatever it takes to keep her mind level, and if that means doing what she wants, i will allow it”.

ubbe finishes his mead, pointing his finger at bjorn and hvitserk.

“if i so much as hear otherwise i will not tolerate it, i will take (y/n) somewhere she can heal, without the judgment of others”.

ubbe leaves the tent, leaving hvitserk and bjorn alone.

“this is only going to get better” bjorn says sarcastically, stomping out of the tent with hvitserk on his heels.

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

“and then! the mighty viking warrior storms out of the cave!” (y/n) shouts, throwing her arms up, letting go of the water that she had cupped in her hands.”and he screams!”

“YAAAAAAHHH! TIS I! I AM FREE!” sigurd shouts, thrusting his wood sword high, the other holding a wood shield.

aslaug laughs, along with young ivar, ubbe and hvitserk by her sides.

“but, what is this!?” (y/n) shouts, running behind the large curtain ubbe had helped her set up hours earlier.

it was quiet, until (y/n) jumps from her hiding spot, with a mask hiding her face as she makes the most loud and horrific noises.

aslaug playfully jumps back in fear, but can’t hide her laughter as her two youngest put on this comedic story.

lagertha is in the corner with bjorn and helga, laughing.

“i shall destroy this beast!” sigurd yells heroically, swinging his sword towards her.

“careful, sigurd!” aslaug says, only for (y/n) to pause, lifting the mask from her face.

“mama, shh!”.

bjorn laughs harder, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares at his sibling with amused eyes.

they resume the story, and sigurd takes large ferocious swings.

just when it seems as if the creature is about to win, sigurd jumps upon the table, and sticks his sword between the pit of her arm.

she makes a choked sound, making strange little hissing noises before falling to the ground, thrashing about until she stilled, her tiny legs bent in a odd position.

“ta da!” (y/n) exclaimes, hopping to her feet to take sigurd hand.

everyone in the hall claps, applauding the children, cheering and raising their mugs to them.

“well done!” aslaug stands, clapping her hands together enthusiastically, smiling widely at her children.

sigurd and (y/n) bow dramatically, and sigurd is caught off guard when she wraps her arms around him, hugging him close to her.

he feels himself smile happily, returning the embrace.

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

though they rarely got along, the love they had for each other was silent, yet deep to the core. and it would never be replicated.

she cries quietly to herself as she makes her way through the crowd to find ivar.

............

her brothers killer............

[edendaphne]

As promised, some angst starring Chat!Felix and Marinette (using some of the earlier concept art/designs)

Note: I'd been working on this oneshot and illustrations since before the most recent season 3 spoilers were released (the ones with episode titles and synopses) so everything in here is strictly an AU.

You can also read it here on Ao3

"I’m in love with you, Felix."

Felix stared at Marinette for a few seconds, then scoffed. He didn't have time for this today; he was planning his own love confession to Ladybug tonight and he didn’t appreciate any unnecessary distractions. Marinette’s abrupt declaration of love was merely one of numerous others he had received; call it another curse he was inflicted with, although this one wasn’t of magical origin like his ring.

"You don’t love me, Marinette," he snorted. "You love what I represent. Fame, money, fashion. You think you can get a taste of those things through me.” Looking away, he added, “Just like all the others."

Marinette faltered, "Th-that’s not true! I like you for you, not just because you’re an Agreste!"

"Is that so?" He replied sarcastically. "How could you? You don’t even know me,” he spat, words dripping with unveiled disdain.

Gathering as much determination she could, Marinette argued, "But I do! I’ve noticed things that you try to hide from others. You’re always very reserved and serious on the outside, but I know that inside you’re actually a very warm and loving person." She added a bit more quietly, "I know that you act a certain way because you’re afraid of being vulnerable, of letting people in and getting hurt, just like you’ve been hurt in the past."

Felix glared down at her from his height. "So you’ve been studying me? I don’t appreciate being psychoanalyzed, Marinette."

"No, that isn’t—! I didn’t—!" she stuttered, panicking on the inside, desperately fighting the urge to run away or hide, anything to escape from his judgmental gaze. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or upset you! I just want to understand you and figure out—"

"Figure out what?” He interrupted. “How to impress me? How to talk or what to wear to make me notice you? Have you ever taken the time to actually get to know me?"

Marinette recoiled and curled in on herself, the sting of his words chipping away at her heart. "That isn’t it! You say I don’t know you at all, but you never accept my invitations to go on activities or dates! How can I get to know you better if you won’t give me a chance?"

"Maybe I don’t want to give you a chance. Have you ever considered that maybe I just want to be left alone?" He crossed his arms and said with finality, "Stop hounding me, Marinette. I can’t stand groupies."

Marinette gasped in disbelief. Bristling at being called a groupie, her stomach churned unpleasantly, suddenly feeling the need to throw up. With her voice as even as she could muster, she uttered quietly, almost whispering, “R-right. As you wish. I won’t bother you anymore, I promise.” She turned away from him, hoping she could force one foot in front of the other despite the sudden feeling of lightheadedness. “Take care of yourself, Felix. Goodbye.”

Felix sighed heavily in frustration as she walked away.  He could have sworn he heard sniffling, but it must’ve just been his imagination.

Hours later after dark, Felix ran across the rooftops as Chat Noir, getting some light exercise before his patrol with Ladybug and, if he were to be completely honest with himself, to get away from his stuffy mansion. He paused on top of the bakery by the school, enjoying the delightful smells of foods he didn't allow himself to partake in, when he heard Marinette tearfully talking on the phone. That was odd. Why would she be crying at this hour?

“No… I’m not okay, but I will be eventually. It'll just take time.” She sighed. “A lot of time." She paused, listening to the other side. "No… no, please don’t confront him. He made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me and I’m going to respect that."

Chat Noir became rooted to the spot. She was talking about Felix, about him, and the confession from earlier.

Marinette sighed and resumed tearfully, "Maybe he’s right. Maybe I really don't know him at all. Maybe I’ve just deluded myself all this time because I thought I understood him a little. Oh, how could I have messed this up so badly? I should never have confessed! …At least I know what he really thinks of me now. I’ve never seen him look at me that way, like I was the scum of the earth, like-" she choked down a sob. "Like I was lower than dirt! Like he hated me!"

Chat’s heart dropped and he felt like he’d been dropped into a tub of ice water. Had his words really affected her that much? He didn’t actually hate Marinette. She was a genuinely nice person, always helpful and cheerful, if a bit scatterbrained and lacking in punctuality. Still, the guilt settled uncomfortably in his gut and he felt slightly dizzy, his hands clammy underneath the suit. Part of him wanted to leave so he wouldn’t have to endure hearing the rest of this conversation, but another part deep within knew he deserved the torture of hearing how much he'd hurt her.

There was another pause as Marinette continued to sob. "No… I'm giving up on him. Maybe even giving up on love altogether. This kind of pain isn't worth it." She went quiet for a few moments, then replied, "Yeah, you're right. Thanks for checking up on me, Alya. You're the best… Yeah, I'll keep in touch… Sure... Love you too. Bye."

Flabbergasted, Chat Noir still couldn’t force himself to leave the balcony. Overhearing (okay, eavesdropping) this discussion had shaken him to his core. Marinette had been honest with him earlier. Her confession was authentic and heartfelt. And not only did she care about him, but she’d also been able to see past his aloof and unfriendly demeanor that he’d used as a shield from the world ever since he was a child. For as long as he could remember, he’d given up on trying to be understood, and Marinette was the only one that had ever even attempted to do so.

Choking back a hard, uncomfortable lump in his throat, he shook his head and stood up. He needed to calm his nerves before his meeting with Ladybug, so he attempted to convince himself that his actions were entirely justified. He couldn’t help the way he felt. He didn’t like Marinette the way she apparently felt for him. Maybe he could have been more kind in his rejection but that wasn’t who he was. Felix wasn’t a nice person like her. And Marinette was resilient. She’d get over it. She’d forget him. And eventually she’d find herself a person who was her type and would suit her better. It was never meant to be.

He ignored the large, empty pit in his stomach and with these thoughts in mind, he sprinted away into the night, blending in with the darkness where he belonged. 

“I’m in love with you, Ladybug.”

Ladybug widened her eyes incredulously, staring first at Chat Noir, then at the ruby red rose he was holding. She felt prickles at the back of her neck, dreading a conversation she’d hoped she would never have to have again, much less within the same day.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and suppressed a groan. Chat Noir theatrically professed his so-called affections for her just about every other week, and this time was no different. She simply wasn’t up for any teasing this night.

“Chat, can we stop with the shenanigans today? I’m really not in the mood. In fact, I almost called off tonight’s patrol.” At his questioning look, she elaborated, “Earlier today I got rejected by the guy I like and he… he didn't let me down gently." She turned away, trying desperately to even her breathing and blink away tears lest she open the floodgates again.

Chat took a step forward and took her hand, stating dramatically, “Who could have possibly been so cruel to you, My Queen? Surely they must be blind or idiotic to reject an extraordinary creature such as yourself.”

She scoffed through her nose. “He certainly didn’t seem to think I’m so extraordinary.”

Chat’s mouth widened into his trademark Cheshire grin and he replied with a flourish, “It’s a good thing I’m here then, for I’ll sing your praises far and wide all over France, letting everyone know of my adoration for you.”

Ladybug huffed incredulously, taking her hand away, her voice trembling as she snapped at him, “Chat, don’t. Don’t do this to me. Not today. Not after what happened to me earlier. Can’t you be more sensitive to my feelings and stop being so damn pushy?” After a long pause she took a deep breath and continued, “You don't love me, Chat. You… ‘you love what I represent.’”

Chat’s eyes grew wide as saucers, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu that was too close to be mere coincidence.

This can’t be… No, it couldn’t be, it just couldn’t. There’s no way fate would be this cruel.

Pushing the intruding thought aside, he argued, “But Ladybug, I do love you! I’ve loved you from the moment we met!”

Ladybug let out a small scoff. “Chat. We both know that’s a lie.” A few moments passed and she stated bluntly, “I know about your curse.”

Chat’s mouth dropped open slightly upon hearing her revelation, feeling something akin to whiplash. She knows, he thought. But how?

“You just want to use me. You always have.” Ladybug declared hotly. “Well, I'm not going to fall for it! They’re lies, all of it! Never in our entire partnership have you been honest with me.” She looked up at him and the tears finally started flowing. “You couldn’t care less about me,” she seethed.

This conversation was quickly spiraling out of his control. Desperately, Chat argued, “You know that’s not true! I do care about you!”

“Oh, please,” she dismissed him bitterly as the tears fell. “You only care about yourself. All you’ve ever wanted from me was a kiss to break the curse from your miraculous, and then you’d toss me away when you didn’t need me anymore. If you had just asked me then I’d understand, but you couldn’t even be forthright with me about it... After all we’ve been through together, don’t you think I deserve at least that?”  She squeezed her eyes shut, body shaking.

Chat felt his insides crumple and it was like his body was free falling. Despite Ladybug being correct in her assumption that he didn’t start their partnership with the purest intentions, he had sincerely grown to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with her.  Did she really, earnestly think he didn’t care about her at all after all this time?

“Ladybug, you have to believe me, that’s not how it is!” he insisted. “You’re the love of my life! You’re everything I could ever need!” Ladybug countered sharply, “But what about me, Chat? How about what I need?”

Chat replied quickly, “I’d give you anything you could ever possibly want! Anything you wish for would be yours.”

Feebly, she replied, “I don’t even know what I want anymore.” She muttered, aside, “Maybe Felix was right. Maybe none of us truly know each other.”

Chat Noir paled. This couldn’t be happening. All this time, right in front of him. The compassionate, thoughtful, ingenious, most important person in his life. And he’d been too blind, his soul too bitter to notice her. Thinking of it now, there was no real difference between the way the two of them acted, save a bit more confidence and outspokenness as Ladybug. The same couldn’t be said about him though. His outgoing and theatrical Chat Noir persona was the complete opposite of everything Felix was behind the mask. There was no way she could have guessed that they were one and the same. He, however, had no excuse. It should have been obvious. But Ladybug was right. He was selfish. And he’d been dishonest.  Not only that, but his heartless, cruel treatment of Marinette had ruined any possible chances he may have had with her. She truly was extraordinary and he was just…

I’m an asshole, he realized.

The pain etched on her face, the red and puffy eyes that were visible despite her wearing a mask, none of it belonged there. She deserved nothing but happiness but she was the one suffering. Because of him. 

He inhaled sharply as a flood of memories flashed through his mind of all the times when harsh words were directed at him, memories of his younger self hiding inside a closet, sobbing, desperately wishing for even the smallest amount of love and warmth. Until eventually, years later after countless heartbreaks and disappointments, he’d finally adapted and became numb to it. And while this defense mechanism helped him to protect his own heart, it had also rendered him uncaring and indifferent towards others. It was only recently, due to Ladybug’s kindness and influence, that Felix was slowly beginning to learn how to feel again (although admittedly he was still pretty lousy at it, as his current situation could attest to).

Ladybug sniffled and suddenly paused, as if a thought had just occurred to her. She steeled herself, resolve filled her face and she took a few rapid steps forward Chat Noir until their bodies were almost touching. She placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him, and yet her eyes looked hollow and dispirited. Her other hand moved to gently cup his jaw, then she closed her eyes and closed the remaining distance between them.

As she leaned in, Chat panicked. "W-what are you doing?!" 

"Giving you what you want," she said and puckered her lips.

He pulled his head back and she opened her eyes, revealing a now agitated look. Chat took a few steps backwards hoping to get some distance between them but she followed, never letting go of him, until he backed up against a wall and had nowhere left to go. She pinned him against it roughly, using both hands, holding him still enough for her to kiss.

“L-Ladybug, wait!” he stammered. “Don’t do this! You can’t!”

Exasperated, she cried, “Don’t you want to be free from the burden of being Chat Noir? You’d never have to see me again. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Your freedom?” she spat. “One kiss and you could get rid of all this, and we can stop this game. You don’t love me and maybe I’ll never be loved like I want to be, but I can free you from this curse. And from me.”

At that instant he did something he never believed he would ever do: he pushed her away. He couldn’t accept her kiss. Not like this. This wasn’t like her. She was hurting and lashing out and asking for help all at once. This wasn’t how he wanted to end his time as Chat Noir. It couldn’t end like this.

“Ladybug, listen to me!” he pleaded, holding her firmly by her upper arms. “I don’t want this and I know you don’t want this! I can’t let you do it! You mean so much more to me than this!”

She squirmed in his grip.  “I don’t believe you!!”  she shouted, barely able to see him through her watery eyes. 

Not letting go, Chat replied quietly, “I don’t blame you. I really don’t. I haven’t been a good partner to you; I’ve been deceitful and crass, and I’m sure someone else could do a better job at being Chat Noir. It may not come as a surprise to you that I’m not a good person in real life. In fact, I’m pretty damn horrible.” He gave a humorless chuckle.

Ladybug ceased her struggling and looked up at him in confusion.

Chat continued, “But I believe that we’re together for a reason and I don’t want to give up. I’d like to stay with you and continue to fight alongside you. I want to protect you, to destroy anything that would dare try to hurt you… But if that someone is me, then…” He tightly squeezed his eyes shut. “If you really don’t want me here then I can leave. I can leave you alone and I promise I wouldn’t bother you anymore.” He looked at her pleadingly, eyes glistening. “But if you would have me, if you would tolerate me, then I would stay with you forever. I promise.”

Through his hastened speech, Ladybug stared at him, wide eyed and full of disbelief, but as he reached the end, she broke.

Gasping and staring, a horrified Ladybug cried remorsefully, “Chat… Oh, Chat, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” She sobbed openly, not even attempting to suppress it. Chat gingerly pulled her close, gathering her into his arms. She trembled and heavy sobs violently racked her small body. He held her, soothed her, whispered to her, stroking the back of her head gently, careful so that his claws wouldn’t snag on her soft, raven hair. They stayed that way for a long time, clinging to each other like a lifeline.

An hour later, Ladybug and Chat Noir sat on the roof side-by-side, legs and hips touching. Chat's arm draped loosely around her shoulders and his thumb stroked against her upper arm, while Ladybug rested her head on his chest seeking comfort. The two sat in companionable silence; Ladybug’s crying had finally stopped and she was exhausted. Her breathing had slowed considerably and Chat wondered if she’d fallen asleep. He wished vehemently that they could stay like this forever, but they had school the next day and Felix had a very long apology to prepare, so it was time to part ways.

Chat gently nudged Ladybug’s shoulder and she stirred slightly. “Are you awake, Choupinette?”

“Hmmm…” she sighed airily and nuzzled into him. “Barely.”

He chuckled lightly and gave her a small squeeze. “I deeply regret having to disturb you, but alas, the time has come for us to say our farewells for the night.”

Ladybug harrumphed and tightly wrapped her arms around his waist in mock indignation, which caused him to laugh.

He booped her nose playfully. “You are simply too cute, Ma Choupinette. But we absolutely cannot allow such rebellion from you. You are going home even if I have to transport you there myself.” With this said, he abruptly jumped up, carrying her in his arms bridal style, the sudden movement causing her to throw her arms tightly around his neck and squeal in surprise. He followed up by vigorously tickling her ribs with the hand that held her torso.

She squirmed in his hold and laughed freely. “Alright, alright, you win, I’ll go home! Now let me down, you doof!”

Chuckling, Chat set her back down on the ground, yet his hands remained on her waist, not quite ready to fully let her go. Similarly, she had released her hold around his neck but her hands had slid down onto his chest. He could feel the hair on his arms stand up and his face heat up, along with the butterflies fluttering wildly in his chest, and he was grateful that his suit covered most of his body so she wouldn’t be able to see it.

Her expression sobered and she said with difficulty, “By the way… I’m sorry I tried to kiss you. And I’m sorry I said all those awful things to you.”

Chat stroked her cheek and spoke to her softly, “You don’t have to say sorry. Not to me. I know you were feeling devastated by what happened to you earlier. I should have been more considerate to your feelings, acted more tactful.” He frowned and he spat bitterly, “That other guy… he’s a fool. He doesn’t deserve you. He will never deserve you,” he said emphatically. “You’re too good for him, too pure and sweet and kind. There is no excuse for the way he treated you and he doesn’t deserve your attention, nor does he deserve your forgiveness.”

Ladybug looked away from him and shrugged. “He really isn’t a bad person. Honestly, I can’t even be mad at him. He had every right to not return my feelings and reject me, even if he didn’t go about it the right way. Now I’m just dreading how horribly awkward things are going to be at school.”

Chat’s eyebrows rose in shock and his throat felt dry. How could she possibly be defending Felix even now? Was it because she was in love with him and she was seeing him through rose colored lenses, or would she have been just as kind to anyone else? Knowing her though, he suspected it was the latter.

Hesitating, he gulped but finally asked, “Are… are you going to speak with him about it?”

She exhaled and she shook her head. “He seems to really dislike me,” she replied. “I won’t be talking to him unless I really have to, like if we have a school assignment together.”

Chat frowned at this. Had he really cost himself the friendship he hadn’t realized they’d had?

“I’m sorry,” he replied remorsefully. “I wish I could make it up to you.”

She smiled weakly, yet it was the most melancholy smile he’d ever seen on her beautiful face. He never wanted to see her look that way again. He felt the protectiveness that he only ever felt around her overwhelm him, promptly followed by the crushing reminder that it was he who had caused her such pain.

She patted his arm. “Don’t be sorry, Mon Foufou. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Chat’s blood ran cold, the anxiety and self loathing he always carried within himself swelling exponentially every time he replayed that conversation in his head. He could never deserve her; not ever would he be worthy of her love. But... despite that, he still desperately longed for a chance. An opportunity to pursue her, to court her properly, to treat her like the Queen she was. Just one more chance to redeem himself, as much would be possible for a wretched person such as he, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, eventually she might forgive him. It was worth a try. She was worth the effort.

“For what it’s worth,” he spoke quietly, “I really did mean it. When I confessed.” He rubbed the back of his neck and felt his face redden. “I didn’t exactly say it the way I should have. I’m terrible at this sort of thing. Sharing my feelings and being sensitive to others. I’d like to try again sometime, and this time I’d like to do it right.” He wrung his hands together nervously. “You don’t have to say anything, I just…” he looked straight at her and said earnestly, “I just wanted you to know.”

Ladybug beamed at him, then nervously reached back to grab at one of her ponytails, developing a lovely blush that made her little freckles stand out. “Hmm… I wonder if that’s actually true. But in any case, thank you, Chat. Really.” She turned her body slightly, then added, “M-maybe someday, if you actually feel that way, and if you can prove it… Maybe we can--” she hesitated for a few moments, and continued, “Well… I won’t get ahead of myself. I don’t want to set myself up for any more disappointments. And I wouldn’t want to string you along, either; I’ll need time to get over my crush… a lot of time.”   Chat felt his limbs stiffen at hearing those words again, the words Marinette had uttered back on her balcony.  “I really did like him a whole lot.” She looked back at him and quirked her usual sweet smile. “But if you’re willing, then… I guess we can wait and see what happens.”

Chat Noir reached forward to take her hand, then lightly kissed her knuckles. “I’ll wait as long as it takes, My Queen. Anything for you.”

Big thanks to @imthepunchlord for letting me borrow Chat's nickname, "My Queen" 

Mega super gigantic shout-outs to my amazing fabulous betas, @kryallaorchid  and @chocoluckchipz who helped me with everything from brainstorming and editing to coming up with a title and summary (because I'm a hopeless hot mess) XD

[swishandflickwit]

Shirbert — promise me (no promises) 1/1

Summary: Maybe love didn’t always mean the adventure was in far off places, but was found within the four walls of her classroom; where a rival, in actuality, was not the villain but a prince in disguise?

Maybe love wasn’t always the stuff of legends. What if it was the quiet things? The constance? Love was steady, she realized. It was study sessions and long walks, an ashen gaze and an encouraging smile in a sea of faces that expected her to fail.

It was standing up for what and who you believed in, going after them when they walked away and promising to want them for all time.

Words: 6.8k

Ratings: General Audiences

Also on: ff.net | AO3

Other writings

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was in a rage.

How dare he, she seethed, that vile, repulsive, odious, witless pissant!

Oh, how Marilla would despair at her thoughts!

(Rather, Marilla would equally rage at her debasing introspection, as she would later realize once she had calmed herself)

However, in that moment, Anne thought no one in Canada—in all the world even—could neither rival nor temper her resentment. Fury rolled off her and stained her skin an angry red to match her hair. She imagined steam leaking from her pores as her blood curdled… boiled, and not even the pleasant coolness of the summer night air could ease her pique.

She stomped through the lane that would take her home to Green Gables, unmindful of the mud that tracked her boots and splattered across her pristine, white stockings. And they were new too!

I never should have come to this party, she continued her merciless tirade. I should have known better than to accept an invitation, from the Pyes no less! Nothing good ever came out of a gathering hosted by the Pyes. Never mind that it should be the last time we might all be gathered in such a fashion for a long while.

Indeed, for school had come to a close the previous day—at least for Miss Stacy’s pioneer class. A smattering of them would be staying in Avonlea but for the most part, a majority were resolved to pursue their higher education, including (though it hurt her to leave Diana behind) Anne.

Billy Andrews, however, had other… unsavory opinions about that.

“You got into Queen’s?” he scoffed, referring to the Academy in Charlottetown where those with a vocation in mind chose to pursue them. Anne had not only gotten accepted, but gained the highest marks out of all the applicants in Prince Edward Island.

(She was tied with Gilbert though she often, and with much convenience, forgot that fact)

Billy, the thick-headed oaf, elected to ignore this certitude. He had nothing of import or quality to say for Queen’s Academy, having not applied (and in his innermost musings, known that he was not smart enough to be accepted anyway), and therefore inwardly envied and outwardly ridiculed those who had passed.

Anne, through no provocation of hers, nevertheless received his special brand of scorn.

“You may have fooled the Cuthberts, and our classmates. You may have even fooled this entire island. But you’ll never fool me. I know who you are,” he said this in low tones, and lower still as he crept closer and whispered in her ear like she were his lover murmuring sweet nothings to warm her heart, “the Cuthberts didn’t want you in the first place. They were stuck with you, there was no one else. You may have gotten lucky with them, but you ought not to forget who you are and where your place is.” He grinned then, blinding and malicious. “I feel sorry for the Cuthberts. If I were them, I’d have treated my dog better than you. You’re lower than dirt. You’re an orphan, and who could ever truly want you?”

How she burned and burned, the nerve of this insolent and ill-mannered fool! And yet—she meant to say this out loud, make the most of her extensive vocabulary but, her body betrayed her. Her throat felt parched and her feet leaden. Where had her voice gone? The words that were otherwise ready for her to wield as weapons or shape as clay? Where was her indignation?

Her spirit?

Just as quickly, heat melted to cold, noise gave way to a ringing silence and she felt herself rooted to her spot, Billy’s awful, smug smirk frozen before her eyes until—

“ANDREWS!”

Gilbert’s voice pierced through the static that clouded her mind and Billy’s ugly visage was, at last, removed from her line of vision as he turned towards their schoolmate. Anne did not wait to see what would commence between the two boys, however. As soon as the feeling returned to her legs, she imagined she walked out of there with the poise and dignity befitting a nobility such as the Princess Cordelia.

(Bolted, would have been closer to reality)

With nothing but moonshine for light and the faint rustling of the poplar trees for conversation, Anne was her own company. She thought for sure Diana would have come to her side by now, but she supposed that no one had really seen her leave. Billy, for once, hadn’t made a spectacle of himself though somehow this was worse, for she shuddered at the intimate way he had pressed himself onto her as he purred his contempt.

She did not even deign to consider that one witness to that deplorable interaction and what it meant that he had not followed her so for the moment...

She was utterly alone.

Evenings were a curious thing. There was, after all, something quite romantical about the night—lovers meeting in secret to proclaim their forbidden romance, friends exchanging hushed yet excitable stories beneath blankets by candlelight, oh the adventures to be had under the dusky twilight!

But, it was not called the witching hour for nothing. Terrible things happened once the moon had come to siege the sky for every sin, if only for a moment, could be hidden beneath the cover of darkness—ghosts and wolves and brigands and villains abound, and demons too.

Anne’s demons were not of the horned and pointy-tailed kind. Though they too were born of baneful things, they were mostly made of shadows, wispy and seductive intimations that brushed softly against her mind, lulling and comforting and infinite, till it was a pervasive tumor that lay siege to her sense of reason before she ever realized it was a threat.

She looked at the mud tainting her legs, at the stark contrast between muck and cloth, and thought about how she was much like her stockings.

I am a stain. All I’ve ever given Marilla and Matthew and even Jerry since I got here was grief. And Diana... I dread to think how many times I’ve gotten my bosom friend in trouble! As for Cole, the only reason he is still my friend is because he’s miles away in Charlottetown and therefore spared from my importunate nature. Not to mention, I almost drove Miss Stacy to quit her first year here. I’m nothing but trouble! Though I have no love for it, it must love me, for why else would it follow me wherever I tread?

Anne sniffed, shame filling her gut as she fought back tears. I’m just a stupid, orphan girl. There’s no imagining my way around that. No one could ever want me. No one.

So immersed was she in her melancholy that she hadn’t noticed someone was calling her name till a hand descended on her shoulder.

She shrieked (a shrill, embarrassing, banshee of a sound), closing her eyes even as she whirled around to face her assailant.

“Whoa!” exclaimed a deep and resonant voice.

“Whatever riches you may think I possess I assure you sir I am as poor as the dirt beneath your feet, poorer even, than a cow that grazes a pasture for I am utterly incapable of producing anything of value and I—”

“Anne!”

She hadn’t realized she was without breath till she let out a long and heavy exhale. It occurred to her, then, that the tenor by which her name was said was uncannily familiar, the scent of her would-be attacker was that of sun and grass and clean sweat and deeper still, an aura redolent of quiet, fortitude and refuge.

She opened her eyes and breathed.

“Gilbert.”

“Anne,” he chimed in equally, susurrous tones. When she let out another astonished gasp, the air before her crystallized in an algid cloud.

“Where’s your coat?”

She groaned. Of course! Of course, she forgot her coat and bonnet when she left in a huff. Why, walking out may be as dramatic an act as they came, but the books failed to mention just how inconvenient it was! How had the heroines in her favorite literatures managed their adversities with so much courage and grace? And such humor too! While she must have her exposé out in the cold, with (at this, she is gratified) no audience in sight (and at this, she is mortified) save for one, as she cowers and quakes in her boots?

The ardor that fueled the ire in her blood had by now dissipated, leaving an icy and hollow blitz in her veins. Humiliated to her core, she demanded of him, in squeaky volumes, “What are you doing here?”

So she cleared her throat and asked, more stately, again.

Gilbert shook his head. He did not answer. Instead, he looked at her with wide eyes—silver pupils darting back and forth, as if he couldn’t take in the image of her enough. She felt the fleshy, apple of her cheeks flush, a bit of heat returning to her body though a shiver continued to wrack her bones.

“You’re freezing,” he blurted, before an urgent concern (that made Anne rather uncomfortable, as she was wont to be whenever she found herself in Gilbert’s presence—alone or elseways) driving his motions had him divesting his own coat and, without evocation, wrapping it around her frame.

Encased as she was in his jacket and engulfed in the warmth from his body that had suffused itself onto the cloth, the sweet and opulent smell of him further intensified.

(As did the beat of her heart)

(Though this, if asked about, she would vehemently deny to her grave)

“I don’t need your pity,” she averred in what she hoped was a cold and unforgiving demeanor, even as her hold on the coat about her shoulders only tightened.

“It’s not—”

“Isn’t it?”

He sighed, his face scrunched up in exasperation and though a part of her felt abashed at her behavior, a larger part was content to drown in thorough defeat.

“We’re friends, aren’t we Anne?”

She licked her lips, something of a nervous habit. His eyes darted to track the movement and his throat bobbed. She felt her blush deepen.

“Are we?” She whispered.

He laughed though it was more tight than it was humorous.

“Must you always answer my questions with questions?”

She glared at him in the universal expression of, you’re asking for it.

He chuckled in genuine good-nature this time and she felt her irritation abate as she joined him. But their mirth abated all too soon and Gilbert was once more looking at her through hooded eyes that did nothing to lessen their intensity.

“I don’t know what Billy told you that made you react this way, but nothing good ever came out of his foul mouth anyway so, whatever it is he said—don’t believe it,” he shook his head. “It’s not true.”

At once, where she was bereft, the animosity welled within her at the reminder. The wrath that had been absent when she stood before Billy Andrews was now within her grasp and expelled itself onto the nearest presence—Gilbert.

She shoved him. It was a commiserable attempt since he hardly moved, but he let her anyway and she felt a little of her dauntless energy return.

“You can’t say that. You don’t know!”

“Then help me know,” he pleaded.

“I can’t,” she exclaimed, an unwanted sob building in her throat. “It’s too gruesome.”

“Then at least tell me that you don’t believe it,” he took her hand in his with utmost care, his palm coarse with calluses born from a life tending to a farm, his fingertips of ice. And yet, she had never felt so delicate, her hand cradled within his. “Tell me you know he’s wrong.”

“That’s the worse part,” she whispered as she pulled her hand away. “He’s absolutely right.”

A frightful silence had descended upon them. Even the wind had died and the poplar trees halted their rustling, as if Mother Nature herself wanted to be privy to their conversation.

“You can’t mean that, you don’t know what you’re saying—”

“And you do?” she sighed, running a hand—that same, still-tingling hand that Gilbert held what seemed like only a heartbeat ago—over her face.

He groaned. “Not this again.”

She scowled at him. “What do you care anyway? Why are you here? What I do or what I talk about with other people, worthless they may be, is none of your business.”

“And if I want to make it my business?” he countered, the muscle in his jaw ticking from restrained frustration.

She frowned. “What do you mean, Gilbert?”

“Tell me what Andrews said and I can prove to you, I can guarantee, that it’s not true.”

“But it is!”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes. It is! ”

They bickered in this fashion as if they were six instead of approaching sixteen. She insisted on her truth (or rather, Billy’s truth), though she hadn’t the faintest idea why. Is this not what she craved? Is this not the assurance and acceptance she sought her whole life? But still, she found herself scoffing.

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about!”

He rolled his eyes and in snide intonations, rebutted, “Because you won’t tell me!”

“FINE!” she relented and snarled, nay, practically spat the words at him.

“I’m an orphan! Is that what you wanted to hear? Maybe my parents loved me, once upon a time, but apparently not enough to live for me.” Her voice was guttural, her words laced with so much acrimony, it was unrecognizable to her. “I’m a burden to Matthew and Marilla, who wanted a boy in the first place and instead was saddled with me. I bring misfortune on anyone I touch. I’m nothing but a curse. No one could ever want me.”

There. She said it. And again, that insidious reticence, how she was beginning to abhor it. She closed her eyes, unsure of which she was dreading more: his resignation or condescension.

As it stood, she had neither to fear, for what she received was far worse.

He laughed. Laughed!

“How dare you, Gilbert Blythe!” She fumed. She punched him on the shoulder, though his chortles only grew in volume. She made to cuff him again, but he caught her fist in his and pulled her closer—closer than either of them had ever emboldened to be.

No one was laughing now.

“You are an idiot, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” he murmured, his whisper a hot hiss of breath against her cold and beggared lips. She had never been more aware of the weight of her hand in his, she had never been more aware of him. “A downright fool.”

She was mindful that she should have been peeved by this imputation, her common sense screaming at her to react and do so with equal and voracious impudence.

If only the rest of her faculties got the message.

For though his words were intended to wound, the effect was rather lost in translation. Not when there was an undercurrent of awe in his inflection, not when he said ‘idiot’ and ‘fool’ as if that was not what he meant at all; like they were terms of endearment rather than grave offenses.

As if Gilbert had his own personal meaning just for her, and it was the very opposite of its conventional connotations.

“Am I?” She returned in watery tones for she trembled under the weight of all that implied.

He smiled and it was slight in breadth but tremendous in affection. He stepped closer till she had to crane her neck just to be able to take all of him in, her face tilted towards the moonlight. He stopped his beaming then, for a silvery stream had caught his eye.

She hadn’t realized she was crying till he brushed away a droplet.

“I guarantee you,” he repeated, his eyes fervent and bright, “no one could have ever provided you a better home than the Cuthberts. And Diana—she’s positively radiant around you and she was never that way until you came along. Cole found the courage to be who he truly is and you helped him achieve that. And it was you who orchestrated the plan to keep Miss Stacy in school and believe me, she has never regretted the experience for a single moment. This whole island is alive because of you, you emit a gravity of your own and anyone who meets you can’t help but fall into your orbit. If that’s not enough to convince you…”

That same rough hand, from which he never relinquished her violent fist, now urged her to bloom her fingers so that he might place it on his chest. There she rested them and there he cupped her fingers, with a lambency that made her ache for she didn’t expect such a touch from one who lived most of his life as a laborer.

There she felt his heartbeat, strong and certain and—and racing.

How could it thud so hard and so fast when they hadn’t been running or walking since they began? Astonishment etched itself across her features.

“How—?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

“For old time’s sake,” she strived to banter, afraid to reveal herself.

(Afraid to acknowledge the truth)

“How did you figure that no one could ever want you? I’m right here,” he avowed. “I’m here, and I want you. So much.” He shook his head and released a laugh that was riddled with disbelief. “I can’t even begin to explain just how so. I want you, plain as that. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you and I want you now and I’m—” he gulped. “I’m quite certain I’ll want you for as long as I live.”

She gaped, the flow of her tears halted from her stupor at such an exaltation. All this unbeknownst to Gilbert, her countenance spurred him to quip with a, “Well, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert, what say you about that?”

His lips stretched into a timid smile that betrayed his timorousness all the same.

“I’m at a loss for words,” she admitted freely. At that, his smile dimmed but did not diminish altogether.

He did, however, let her go.

(She hadn’t realized how much of him had seeped into her skin when at once, he stepped back, taking all the heat with him and leaving a resounding void in her chest)

“May I walk you home?”

And just like that, the conversation was dropped.

Anne, who was more confused leaving this exchange than she was when she entered it, acquiesced to this simple request for lack of a better reaction.

The true gentleman that he is, Gilbert indeed accompanied her the entire trek to Green Gables. Bubbles of conversation drifted between them before fizzling out due to the vapidity of their topics. It was only when they reached her porch did he speak to her with a solemnity that matched their earlier situation.

They stood facing each other, the space between them so corpulent it was its own presence. The camaraderie they had built (and sincerely enjoyed) in those final years at school seemed to have evaporated till their very atmosphere felt too hostile to breathe—they were that edgy. Still, he must have wanted to reclaim a bit of ease with a manoeuvre reminiscent of their first meeting.

He tugged on one of her braids.

But the stark difference between then and now was the intent for there was nothing teasing about his touch. There was no mistaking the feeling in his caress when it was so careful.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

It was devotion.

She licked her lips and again, the muscle in his jaw strained as he clenched it.

“Um,” she stuttered. Answer? Answer? She wasn’t ready to answer. Nor did she think she ever would be ready to answer!

“Relax,” He laughed, no doubt reading the panic that pulled her face taut. He smirked.

“We are friends,” he said, a bit of anxiety leaking into his tone. “Right?”

She blew a relieved breath though she shouldn’t have been, the uncertainty in his voice consoled her all the same. In this, she could unfailingly put her faith. She nodded with the eagerness of a pupil first in her class.

“Always.”

At her affirmation, he gave her hair one last, fond tug and replied quietly, “Good,” before arranging it away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“Anyway…”

She felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Anyway,” she returned in an equally hushed voice.

His parting smile was a shot of radiance in the gloom. She returned it with a crooked one of her own, praying it concealed the jumble of her emotions. His smile… it—did things, to her insides. Strange things. Things that made her sick at the image of him walking away from her.

Things that made her want to stop him leaving.

“Gilbert!”

He whirled at the sound of her voice, hope a living flame on his countenance. She floundered.

“I… you…” her hand clenched around the jacket engulfing her frame, and she remembered. “Your coat!”

She moved to take it off but Gilbert stopped her.

“Keep it.”

“But won’t you be cold?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” he said. “Take care of yourself, Carrots.”

She pursed her lips. Where once the nickname would have incensed her, now it filled her with a breathless sort of glee, like a language only the two of them shared because they were the only ones in the world who understood it.

“I guess… I’ll be seeing you around?”

Why was she stalling?

“So much, it’ll be impossible to miss me,” he teased with a roguish smile.

She chuckled.

He was approaching the gate when she called to him once more, “Goodnight!”

He turned, walking backwards as he tipped his newsboy hat towards her and bowed. “And to you, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert!”

And though he couldn’t see, she bit her lip, trying with all her might to hide her grin.

Watching him leave, she found her ebullience ebbing. Something felt different within her... had her soul shifted somehow? She did not feel like she had been halved nor did she feel any less of herself. If anything, she felt bigger. She felt more. Like her essence had expanded, only to carve a mold shaped suspiciously to Gilbert’s silhouette. She felt forever changed, it was incomprehensible to her that he didn’t feel the same way. And yet—

How could it be so easy for him to walk away?

His frame was swallowed by the darkness before he disappeared altogether, the echoes of their confabulation fading with him until she was all alone.

And it was as if it never happened at all.

Sun chased moon and dusk gave way to dawn. Recounting the occurrence to Diana and Cole (who was visiting from Charlottetown for the weekend to celebrate the start of summer with his childhood chums) betwixt the orange orchard that bordered the Barrys’ property, the sun warm and effulgent on their skin, she deemed her revelation from the night before as ridiculous.

“Right?” she questioned the two, expecting their full agreement. “I was being ridiculous!”

“I suppose that’s one word for it,” Diana muttered.

“I’m sorry,” exclaimed Cole, not sounding apologetic at all, “But I’m still hung up on the part where Gilbert proposed to you.”

Anne was certain she blushed to the roots of her flaming hair.

“He did not!”

“You’re right,” he acceded and she felt it safe for her mind to enter a state of palliation when he followed with a biting, “you are an idiot.”

“Technically, Gilbert said that.” Diana smirked as she spoke. Anne turned to her with a glare.

“And what is your opinion on this, oh bosom friend o’mine?”

She demurred but Anne persisted with a whinge in her voice.

Diana was perfectly aware what Anne wanted her to say, which is why it hurt her to divulge her true opinion. It seemed her friend was in dire need of a wake up call—not that she would be the one to give it.

So she skirted for an answer.

“Well, ‘as long as I live’ seems an awful long commitment…”

Apparently she hadn’t skirted well enough for Anne bellowed with a disparaging, “Diana!”

She cringed. “But—”

Anne groaned. “No! I think I’ve had enough of this conversation.”

Diana bit her lip, looking rather miserable. “I’m sorry, Anne.”

“Don’t be!” Cole reproached her. “Tell her.”

“Whatever it is, I won’t hear it!”

Anne, in a fit of childish tantrum, put her hands over her ears. It prompted Cole to roll his eyes and march over to where she was seated, buried amongst the roots of a tree so that he could unhand her. He locked eyes with Diana and raised his eyebrows. He tipped his chin towards Anne, who was glaring viciously at him.

“She needs to hear it.”

Anne turned her head away, but it didn’t stop her from hearing what Diana made known.

“I saw you leave last night,” she started. “I was going to follow you, but then Gilbert punched Billy! And apparently, it wasn’t the first time for no one stopped him. Personally, I think Billy has the kind of face that’s just asking to be punched so truly, who could blame Gilbert?”

“Diana,” Cole chided, though his mouth twitched in barely suppressed laughter.

“Well, Gilbert didn’t wait for Billy to get up, he just dashed for the door and that’s where he bumped into me. He asked me if I saw you come out that way and I said yes. I told him I was just about to run after you but, he stopped me.

“‘I’ll go after her,’ he said. ‘There are… words I must say and I can no longer conceal myself.’”

Diana and Cole expected Anne to react in an explosive manner, or, at the very least, say something. When she did nothing but give them both a blank stare, Cole gave Diana an encouraging nod.

“There’s something else, Anne.”

“Oh, what is it now?” she wailed.

Diana shook her head. “It’s not about you. It’s… I’m—”

Her troubles forgotten, Anne jumped to her feet and was at Diana’s side in a blink.

“Are you all right?”

Tears sprung into her eyes and Anne’s alarm grew. “Diana?”

She shook her head.

“I couldn’t be better. I’m, well,” she took a deep breath.

“I’m engaged!”

Anne stared.

Diana deflated. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” she said, crossing her arms in defense.

“Like I’m a different person. Like everything's about to change.”

“Everything is about to change!”

Diana looked away.

“When was this?”

She paused, as if unsure whether she should answer.

“Last week.”

“Last week,” Anne repeated, rolling the words around her brain till it clicked. “Last week!”

Diana nodded haplessly. Anne turned to Cole and pointed at him an accusing finger. “You knew!”

“To be fair, she only told me today, as we both made our way here.”

Anne furrowed her brows and rubbed at her forehead. An ache was forming at her right temple.

“But… but we’re only sixteen.”

“Prissy was sixteen when she first walked down the aisle.”

“Look how well that turned out,” she rebutted in a tone heavy with sarcasm. “And what have your parents to say about this? I don’t need a wide ‘scope of imagination’ to figure that Jerry is hardly their first choice for you!”

Diana flinched.

“They… don’t know. I haven’t exactly told them.”

“Oh Lord,” Anne muttered. She was beginning to sound a lot like Marilla, and was just now understanding the spectrum of emotions she herself put the female Cuthbert through on a daily basis.

“When will you tell them?” Cole asked in a more gentle manner.

“If you tell them!” she called out. "Diana, this is Jerry. He’s a dear friend but—"

“Stop it, Anne!” Cole bursted before he shot her a glare. “For someone who prides herself on her tolerance, you sure have a narrow perspective on this. If you would listen to her, you would see that she’s in love.”

“What do you know about love? What do any of us know of love?” she shot back.

Cole sighed in frustration. “You and I may be limited in experience but you would have to be blind not to see it in Diana. And perhaps you are, if you go on in this fashion! Are you so lost in your flight of fancies that you’ve turned your head around on what it means to love? Just look at her, Anne.”

She frowned but for once, Anne forced the words that piled itself into her mouth, down her throat. She turned still wary eyes to her oldest friend and observed her with the kind of open mind she beseeched upon the world, and saw her, truly saw her, anew.

Despite her pallor, she stood straight, her shoulders back in a way that would make her mother proud save for her chin, jutted out in defiance. She had never looked taller. Her eyes held a certain shine—as though nothing, not even the threat of her parents or the prospect of leaving Jerry behind to go to finishing school in Paris, could ever banish their light.

“I know he’s not the Ideal Man we promised ourselves we would find in our youth, nor is his proposal the grand advent that we dreamed of nor is our love the epic we longed to command, but Anne, I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a silly, lovestruck fool. He’s so much better, he’s so much more…”

(She felt more. Was this not a thought she conjured to herself last night?)

Diana trailed off, evidently lost in her thoughts. In that moment, Anne had never felt so far away from her friend. But this wasn’t about her feelings. Diana had a smile on her face and it was awash in excitement but more than anything, it was serene. As though she had found her rightful place in the world, and it was by Jerry’s side, her arm slightly outstretched and her body angled in a way like she was merely waiting to fit herself to him.

Chagrined, the pit of her gut flooded with the shame of her actions. That she drove Diana to have to explain herself! How could she have done this and ever called herself a bosom friend?

In the end, she only had one other question to ask.

“Are you happy?”

Both Cole and Diana turned surprise eyes, at her and her tone, soft and apologetic. Diana though, her lovely jet-black hair a blazing amber in the noon sunshine, looked perfectly brilliant and Anne had her answer.

“If you’re happy, then so am I.”

She went to her, a mist transforming her gaze into pools as she hugged the girl who had grown into a woman, seemingly before her very eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “you can’t know how much,”

“It’s all ready forgotten.”

Cole shortly joined their embrace and the three friends were laughing even as they wiped rivulets of tears from each other’s cheeks.

“Well,” Cole prompted. They were spread on the grass, their heads together in a triangle while they mooned onto the blue sky and painted pictures out of clouds. “How did he propose?”

Anne’s mouth twisted as she deduced that it must have been unromantical—though this sentiment, she kept to herself lest she again upset the comradeship that was so newly established amongst them.

But Diana’s tenor was sweet and dreamy as she recalled, “He wrote me a letter—a full-fledged letter! He gave it to me personally, of course, for fear of my parents finding it first but oh, it was in an envelope and stamped and everything, as if he had sent it to me through courier.”

She was all too relieved that she kept her opinions to herself, for though he hadn’t gone down on one knee, Anne supposed that an epistolary proposal sounded absolutely beauteous—especially once she considered just how far Jerry had come from, being illiterate as a child. He prided himself on his abilities now.

“If anything, I have you to thank Anne, for you began his tutelage.” Diana sighed. “I’d show you the letter, but I’d like to keep it to myself if you don’t mind.” She blushed as she said this and they all giggled, for they did not mind at all. “But truly, it was divine, it was himself in words. All his emotions on a page, and yet all he wrote of was me...”

Nestled within the grass, Diana was a rose in bloom with the way she blushed as she spoke of her betrothed. It was then Anne had an epiphany.

Perhaps love did not always come in the form of impassioned speeches or grandiose adventures. Perhaps it wasn’t always a princess who was locked up in a tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon, her prince ready to brave the flames.

Maybe it was a low-burning ember, less hot than the blaze of a fire sure, but just as passionate. She thought of Diana and Jerry and wondered if it might be letters written in longhand, if the prince’s sword was actually a pen, the ink his weapon that illustrated his ardor—if the dragon wasn’t a dragon but the politics of society that told young lovers they must not marry below their station or, and she looked at Cole, their same sex.

Maybe love didn’t always mean the adventure was in far off places, but was found within the four walls of her classroom; where a rival, in actuality, was not the villain but a prince in disguise?

Maybe love wasn’t always the stuff of legends. What if it was the quiet things? The constance? Love was steady, she realized. It was study sessions and long walks, an ashen gaze and an encouraging smile in a sea of faces that expected her to fail.

It was standing up for what and who you believed in, going after them when they walked away and promising to want them for all time.

“Anne?”

Diana touched her shoulder but all she could say was, “I am a fool.”

Cole smiled knowingly.

But, fool that she was, it took her till twilight to empower herself to take any sort of action. With word to Marilla on where she would be, and Marilla raising an astute eyebrow at the very young male coat she left behind when she departed (honestly, was she the only one oblivious to her own feelings?), she went where her heart led.

And her heart led her at the boundary of the Blythe farm, where she paced back and forth, back and forth and back and forth until—

“Anne?”

She startled. “Gilbert!”

“Hello…?”

He looked bewildered at her being there, and rightfully so. Dusk was falling, and here they were again. She chuckled, though it was riddled with tension.

“You’re always catching me unawares,” she jested. “I wonder when I’ll ever return the favor.”

“Impossible,” he muttered.

Disconcerted, she inquired, “why?”

He gave her a modest smile, though he didn’t look away.

“I’m always aware of you.”

She was tempted to look away—so heated was his gaze. But her determination was even more ignited and so she compelled herself to hold his stare.

“Not that I’m displeased,” he continued, before the silence could prolong. “But what are you doing here? It’s nightfall. Is something wrong in Green Gables?”

“No, no,” she assured in quick tones. “The very opposite. I just—I need to tell you something.”

His brows furrowed as he tilted his head for her to go on. “Yeah?”

“It is rather important,” she began. “Could we… could we talk somewhere more privately? Preferably, not out in the cold.”

“Oh!” Gilbert laughed in abashment. “Of course, let’s go inside.”

“Where are Bash and Mary?” She asked when they entered the dark and empty house. Gilbert led her to the parlor where he offered her a seat and he lit candles as he spoke.

“They’re in Charlottetown, I just came from the train station where I dropped them off actually. They’re going to attend to Mary’s son. He’s fallen ill.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I offered to go with them, but it doesn’t sound so serious. Overfatigue, probably stress from work, and a fever. Mary wants to be with him, just to be sure and Bash, well,” he rolled his eyes though when he spoke, it was full of fondness. “He never wants to be far from Mary.”

Again, they shared a weighted look. Anne cleared her throat, but nothing came out. Should she make more small talk? Ease into it? Or should she just dive right in?

“So,” Gilbert smoothly urged. “You had something important to tell me?”

Right, she thought, diving into it, then.

“I needed to see you,” she started.

“In the middle of the night?”

He sounded amused. Was he mocking her? Here she was, laying her heart bare and he was ribbing her?

“Hardly!” she burst out, her temper rising. “The sun hasn’t even fully set!”

“Hasn’t it?”

He gestured towards the window where, surely enough, darkness had conquered the sky with a swiftness Anne had forgotten it was capable of. She frowned and when she looked back at him, that insufferable smirk was affixed to his lips.

Oh he means to rile me, she conjectured. He thinks he’s so clever!

His goading gave her an inexplicable boost of confidence so, abruptly, she declared, “I have objections.”

“Objections?” befuddled, he scratched at the side of his head—a habit of his, she knew. “To what?”

“To ‘as long as I live’.”

“As long as I—”

He broke himself off as all humor was swept from him and the light of realization settled upon his eyes.

“‘Forever’ sounds ever more romantical, don’t you agree?”

“Anne,” he whispered, hope lighting his face and forging her heart and soul anew. She hid a smile. How unfair it was that he should look so glorious under the candlelight, the shadows sharpening his all ready chiseled jaw and the strong slant of his nose.

How he glowed.

“I think I ought to school you on the proper techniques to proposing. I am, after all, to be a teacher.”

“Oh,” he queried, his voice wobbly and a suspiciously wet gleam in his cinereal look. “What exactly would you have me do differently, teacher?”

“Well, for one, I would have you down on your knee like… so.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened in genuine shock. In truth, Anne too was surprised at herself. She never thought she would be so happy, lowering herself to the ground. But she was, as she bent on one knee.

“And then?” he said, low and susurrous.

“Then, I would have you take my hand,” Anne’s fingers touched his, resting open on his lap like he was just waiting, waiting.

They entwined.

“We would look deeply into… each other’s… eyes…”

Her breathing began to quicken. From the rapid rise and fall of his chest, so had his. She was drowning, captured by the depth of his wonder—nothing could have made her look away from him.

“Then?”

“The most important part, of course.” she breathed. “A vow.”

She gulped.

“I love you.”

Gilbert exhaled shakily, his grip tightening on her hand.

“Would you have me, Gilbert? Would you do me the honor of being my partner… forever?”

Her breath hitched. For one horrid second, she was of the mind he would deny her.

He let go of her hand. He shoved the chair away and was leveled in front of her in a heartbeat. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch light and cool as a doctor’s should be. Anne closed her eyes.

Was there ever any doubt?

Gilbert kissed her.

In this, she could trust. This, she thought, is true.

She was happy to stay that way, ecstatic to be linked in the most universal language of devotion. But air was a necessity, and when they pulled but a hairsbreadth away she asked, “Is that a yes?”

Gilbert laughed, jubilant and boisterous, and oh how it outshined even the shadows.

“What now?” she breathed, her hands cupping his own around her face.

“I love you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, more than anything. I’ll love you in this life and the next, you can be sure. Forever isn’t nearly long enough.”

“Now that’s a vow.”

He laughed again. She joined him. "Shut up and kiss me, Carrots."

"You shut up and kiss m—"

He did, and she didn't even mind that he cut her off.

For Diana was right. They were no Elaine and Lancelot, but how could she ever give this up? Give him up? A lifetime of his kisses, a lifetime of his touch, forever in his arms?

No... this was better.

This was more.

AN: Come say hi to me! ;)

[chronicparagon]

♥

I'm in that weird mood where I wanna write smut so leave a ♥ in my askbox and I will write five sentences of smut for you

Darkness drifts over the city. Shadows stretch and blanket the landscape below as the stars spark to life in the deep sky, but the brilliant beams shining from the cluster of skyscrapers and towels mask night’s mystic beauty from the world below. If only Harmony could see the stars. How she misses them dearly. The stars were what she sought in comfort, just to be away from the mounting expectations and the trials that plague her during the day. It was her escape and she needed it more than ever, especially after today. 

Harmony remembers it well. 

I let my team down…

Another glass reaches her hand.

I let my school down…

The thought of her university’s swim team being so close to victory, only to lose it in a blink of an eye. Her teammates seething for losing their chance for the regionals. A miserable loss after weeks of practice, hours of dedication in hopes to succeed. 

I let myself down…

Guilt grew heavier by the minute. Harmony didn’t go home, nor did she want to see her friends. No, she just wandered, weaved to and fro the crowded streets, and her mind drifted from the pain of harsh reality. She wasn’t being careful and bumped against a stranger. 

A young man about her age stood before her. Messy dark hair fell over sharp, blue eyes. His eyes’ hues spark to fire and ice. He inquires her forlorn expression painted on her face. Harmony never gave details. She only said a few words. 

“I fucked up.” She didn’t want to go there. No, she wanted to get away, far away from the hurt that plagued her.  Words were spoken between her and the man. 

“I fucked up is all, and I want to just get out and forget it happened. Escape to somewhere…Anywhere. I’ll do anything to forget for just a little while.” 

One thing led to another.

She doesn’t recall how long she walked with the man who called himself Rod. She isn’t sure if this room is his own or from a hotel as a last minute option. Everything rushed past her, but honestly…She didn’t care. Clothes shed from their bodies, but Harmony had one request. She took off her top with her bra following after but did so only when Rod’s back faces her. The unzipped hoodie she wears stays. It’s for the best after all. It’s best to conceal her right arm and back. Harmony wouldn’t dare to reveal the ugly marks carved into flesh. The scars and the story behind them would certainly kill the mood. 

Don’t think about that! Just drop it. Let it go.

Her body isn’t that atypical, but it’s obvious that she’s far from the hourglass figure. Toned muscles from her workouts and swimming stand out. Harmony’s hips and thighs are considerably larger than her breasts. So far, he doesn’t seem to care. 

 It begins with something slow and simple. There’s no need to rush. Rod takes a seat on the edge of the bed and straddles his lap. Scarlet stain Harmony’s face as she wonders if this would excite her newfound partner, but she moves on with her plans driven by smoldering lust. A soft, warm hand gently reaches, cupping Rod’s cheek with utmost care. She leans in, eyes shining brightly in the moonlight streaming from the window. Soft lips brush over his forehead, then lips met his while her thumb lightly strokes his cheek. It’s a chaste kiss. Short, gentle, and sweet. It’s the best way to start or so she hopes. 

Harmony pulls away, eyes meeting him for a brief moment. Slender fingers move lower over his body. The woman is not in any rush, her hands lightly touch him, studying his physique with her fingers. Warmth puffs against Rod’s neck when Harmony leans in. Tender skin catches with every nibble down his neck. Harmony’s tongue lightly licks of his collarbone, a minor distraction from her next move

 Hips roll in small circles over the thick warmth pressing against her. It’s a shame that only the thin barrier of her silken underwear remains between Rod’s member and her covered sex. Yet, it’s just enough to draw hear to pool within her core, gnawing at her self-restrant. The events of the day fade to the back of her mind. She’s scared, damn terrified of how ths will turn out, but she wants to try. Everything about him is all that’s on her mind. Now, Harmony is more determined to turn things up just a little. 

Before long, Harmony slides off Rod and sinks on her knees on the floor. Her breath catches in her throat to see his hardening member. Her heart skips a beat at the same time. 

Do I dare? Is it going to fit? 

Harmony pauses and takes in a shaky breath. It’s fine. Take it one step at a time. 

Rod hasn’t stopped her. She made it plain that if it’s not okay, then he should speak up. Hands rest on his knees and she leans in. Warm breath fans over his skin while she kisses peppered with light nibbles over his inner thighs. Harmony’s mouth inches closer and closer to his heat. Full lips are merely inches away from the tip.  Long, dark hair cascades over clothes shoulders, tumbling over bare breasts and spilling over Rod’s thighs. These locks cloak her fluster as she’s closer to the center. Her head leans more to his member. She takes a deep breath and leans in, this time without stopping. 

Lips press his innermost thigh and gives it a soft suck. Harmony holds back a laugh and continues her work kissing along his sensitive skin, movng further away from his erection. She repreats this back and forth to push Rod further to the edge. Slender fingers press against his knees and slowly, it moves upward.

So close, yet so far.

[arabella-beaumont-blog]

“Good luck.”

// Night washed over the landscape, turning the hills that surrounded the small valley into black monoliths that loomed against a midnight-purple sky speckled with bright stars. Suddenly, two figures materialized seemingly out of the mist in the middle of the narrow stone road which cut through the dark heart of the surrounding wood; one frame small and lithe, while the other was large and broad. The two began their walk forward at a leisurely pace, their footsteps masked almost entirely by the gentle, wicked whispers of the late autumn wind.

“I fucking hate apparating.” The hulking figure shrugged in an uncomfortable way while he spoke, as if trying to physically shake off the unpleasant feeling of the magical form of travel. “We should have just taken my new bike out for a spin! I just got it back from this shop in London which put chrome all along the trim and-” The female shot him a glance, a perfectly manicured dark eyebrow deviously arched and a deadly smirk full upon her blood-red lips, and he stopped mid-sentence. “My father pays you so well, and yet all you can think to spend your money on is some muggle death trap? Why am I not surprised.”

Her gaze turned away from the look of obviously feigned offense on his face and back to the path ahead toward the Manor she had called home for most of her life, letting out a small scoff. Ivareth absentmindedly brushed a stray, sienna curl out of his eyes as his expression melted from its dramatic mask of hurt to its true form of devilish mischief. He draped one of his tree-trunk sized arms around her slender shoulders casually, her posture reactively bending slightly under its weight, and pulled her closer for what might have been a hug, though he was not quite that foolish, so the gesture was more of a calculated embrace. “You and I both know that nothing fun ever came without a little risk, darlin’. What are you so afraid of, anyway? I think, if you ever gave it a proper ride, that you’d be absolutely mad for it.”

He flashed Ara a would-be suave wink of his gunmetal orbs, and was met with a greatly aggravated sigh and the roll of her own honeyed-hazel ones. It was not the first time in the thirteen years she had known him that he had made a thinly veiled innuendo, and it would surely - and unfortunately- not be the last. In their youth, Ara had blamed his childhood upbringing in America for making him so forward and crass, but now she knew it was just an intrinsic trait that came bundled along with the rest of his annoyingly rogue-ish personality. “Someday you’ll realize you’re not even half as clever as you think you are, Rouge.” The witch was the one to shrug this time, removing his arm from her and quickening her pace.

A chuckle rumbled deep from Ivareth’s chest as he easily lengthened his gait to keep up with her. “You know you love me. Otherwise, you would have killed me a long time ago. Yet here I am, standing tall, purely thanks to the good grace of the one and only Arabella Beaumont.” His tone was once again dripping with sarcasm, and she gave another roll of her golden eyes, but this one was lighter than before; more out of the downright absurdity of the idea that she could ever be in love with him than anything else. One corner of her mouth raised in a venomous half-smile, and there was a rare, genuine flash of amusement at their banter glinting in her eyes as she shot a glance at him. “And don’t you forget it.”

Ivareth opened his mouth to quip back at her, but their conversation was abruptly cut short by an extreme wash of cold as they stepped through the defensive enchantments - their wands being automatically recognized by the wards her parents had put in place long ago. Before them now was the sprawling expanse of Grimoire Manor a short distance away; home to the Beaumont line for as long as anyone in the family could remember. It was an incredibly imposing building, with a high, pointed, wrought iron fence lining the walkway to the great teak doors - whose black wood contrasted against the bone-white ivory of the main house - and all of its pointed spires clawing  viciously towards the midnight sky. It was the beautiful cage Arabella had been locked in for most of her life, and returning here put her in a particularly foul mood - souring what spark of dark mirth had ignited on her walk with Ivareth. 

The two walked in silence now, their footsteps echoing off of the mottled marble pathway. Ivareth knew better than to try and playfully irritate Arabella when she was so close to the source of a lifetime of seething anger and painful memories, and she was mentally putting up all of the walls necessary to protect herself for the task that lay on the other side of the huge, dark doors ahead. When the two reached the doorstep, Ivareth turned to her. The mischief in his eyes had been replaced with concern, and he stared at her for a moment as he tried to find words. Shenarrowed her gaze, staring daggers at him as a cold rage began to bubble up from her core as she let out an angry hiss. “I don’t need your sympathy. Stop looking at me like that.” Ivareth did as she asked and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with his broad, calloused hand as he accepted that there was nothing he could do to help. The man grudgingly turned away, a heavy sigh escaping the part in his lips as he did so. But before he strode off back into the night, he couldn’t help but utter one last phrase to her; “Good luck.”

And with that, Arabella stood alone on the doorstep to a place she loathed above all others. She took one final, deep breath of the cool air as she steeled herself for what was to come and blocked the flood of horrible memories that this placed held. After a few seconds, a small, pale fist raised and rapped thrice on the black wood. The sound echoed around her for what felt like a small eternity as she waited for an answer. Finally, there was a flood of wan, bitter grey light as the massive door swung open, revealing the tall, thin frame of a man before her. 

His hair was her own swirling raven color, with elegant streaks of silver which somehow only served to enhance his refined air of style. He had the same high cheekbones and gaunt expression, and was dressed in a rich suit of perfectly tailored dark silk which devoured any light that dared touch it. When he spoke, there was nothing but a familiar, icy form of utter indifference - completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever, another trait she had inherited from him. “Hello, daughter.” //

[nox-lee]

Opening Lines Tag Game

I was tagged (ish) by @alecjmarsh

RULES: List the openings of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. 

I was delighted to see that I actually have 10+ fics on AO3. Several of these are codas though, which may skew the comparison a bit given that they’re a different style of writing...

Snap, Crackle, and Pop

Dean’s at the Roadhouse when he gets the call, waiting for Cas to join him for their usual burger and beer. Typically Cas beats him here, orders for them, and has stolen the pickles from Dean’s burger by the time Dean arrives. But Dean enters the Roadhouse to find their table empty, which should have been his first sign that something was wrong.

A Calm Between Storms: A 13x22 Coda

Castiel feels pretty fortunate, all things considered. They've made it back through the portal in one piece and managed to save dozens of other souls in the process. Lucifer remains trapped on the other side. The loss of Gabriel weighs heavy on him, but he sets his grief aside for now. He doesn't forget about it exactly, just tucks it away inside of himself, not ready yet to examine it.

Hand To Mouth

“This is stupid.” Saying it is useless; it’s not like Dean’s ever listened to reason before, but Castiel feels obligated to point it out nonetheless. “This is reckless and dangerous and—”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, hold this one for me.” Dean pushes a firecracker into Castiel's hands, while he juggles another in his own and flicks at his lighter.

The Sweetheart Next Door

Dean stands on his lawn, surveying the house that now bears his name on the deed. It’s a rundown old thing, in dire need of a new roof and a dozen other imminent fixes. But it’s in a nice neighbourhood and it’s his, and that alone is almost cause to smile. Almost. He doesn’t though, because his gutter chooses that moment to collapse with a screech of metal on the left side, sending the stray cat who has taken to sleeping in his front bushes scurrying.

Baby It’s Cold Outside

It's cold and wet and everything around them is swirls of fog and mist, making it hard for her headlights to cut through anything. Baby growls her frustration, her wheels squealing on the sleet beneath them.

She is upset, to say the least. Only a week ago, she had been warm and cozy, freshly waxed and tucked away in the bunker garage where she had hoped to spend the holidays in luxurious comfort. Instead, she is miles from home, and growing crankier by the hour.

She's tired and cold and dirty. And Dean is being an idiot.

I Have Measured Out My Life in Coffee Spoons: A 13x06 Coda

Castiel flinches as Jack bursts into the bedroom. As expected, Dean does not respond well to being jolted awake. Although he knows Jack can't be hurt by bullets, Castiel still scowls when Dean pulls the gun from under his pillow and aims it at Jack.

Dean has not always been such a deep sleeper. After Castiel pulled him from hell all those years ago, Dean hadn't slept well at all. He almost always slept fully clothed and often left his boots on as well. Castiel hadn't realized straightaway that this had been unusual behaviour. He himself didn't need sleep, and while he understood well enough that it was a human requirement, he hadn't fully appreciated all the rituals of nightfall.

All The Anguish You Suppress: A 13x05 Coda

Cas wakes up in a field. He has a brief moment of unthinking calm in which to feel the sun on his skin. He turns his head to the sky, breathes deeply, then spares a confused glance down at his new attire.

Then it hits him. He flinches with the sudden intensity of it that feels like an actual blow to his chest— like there’s some invisible hand squeezing his heart and lungs, compressing his air. This longing. It cuts deep at the core of him.

Dean.

Witchcraft and Whiskers

Halloween had always been Castiel’s favourite time of the year. He loved watching the leaves turn colour and crunch underfoot. The crisp air that carried the smell of winter always made him want to curl up with a cup of tea and a good book. And he loved the theatrics of Halloween: the skeletons and ghosts that hung from porches, carved pumpkins alight with candles. It was all so magical.

Nothing Else Matters: A 12x23 Coda

"Dean, that tickles," Cas grumbled. But his eyes were bright, his nose crinkled, and his lips quirked up in a small, half smile.

Dean grinned and continued trailing his fingers down the sides of Cas's ribs, resolutely ignoring the way he squirmed beneath him as he moved lower and nosed around Cas’s hipbone.

He had only managed to pull Cas’s shirttails from his pants before a firm hand grabbed him by the hair and tugged gently. 

A Marriage of Misadventure

Dean’s first conscious thought was that everything was too bright. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, but a white light persisted on the inside of his eyelids. Although he wasn’t about to open his eyes to confirm, he was certain there was sunlight pouring in from a window somewhere. It was too bright, his head was throbbing, and every muscle in his body ached.

Dean rolled to block out the light and buried his face in the warm mound of blankets next to him. He inhaled an unfamiliar, but not unpleasant scent. It was deeply soothing, and Dean was pretty sure he could stay like this forever. Warm, dark, perfect. Nope, he would not be opening his eyes any time soon.

Then the mound of blankets moved.

This Isn’t How It Was Supposed To Go: A 12x10 Coda

The ride back to the bunker passes in icy silence. Dean is seething and the more miles they travel, the angrier he gets. Fucking angel with his fucking death wishes. He glances over at the angel in question who is sulking and staring resolutely out the window. Only an hour ago their fingers were brushing together on the space between them. Now that space feels like miles and is immeasurably colder.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

OBSERVATIONS

There’s a lot of bad writing here, and plenty that I’m embarrassed about looking back. But I do think it’s important to see where you’ve come, and where you’re headed!

With a few exceptions, I seem to use almost exclusively present tense. I’ve wondered about this before and I really do think it’s a fanfic phenomenon. 

I tend to start either right in the action with dialogue or far removed, with very little in between. Some of that discrepancy is the codas though, which have more immediacy.

I have a pretty even split of Dean vs. Cas POV, which is something I struggle a lot with in terms of knowing which character is best equipped to tell a story. 

I use the word “resolutely” too much and it sounds pretentious af. 

Spot any other patterns? Let me know! And tag me if you do your own... I’d love to see. 

[marshaeb]

P.S: I'm Mated With The Cursed Alpha!

Chapter Nine

Hey guy! Don’t forget to Like, Comment, Review, and Follow for more updates! My apologies in advance for all the grammatical errors. Book will be professionally edited when completed.

W-what did he say? Why does he want me to put down Daely...a-and what on earth is he doing here?

How the hell did he even pass security!! SHIT!

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply when I refuse to move... I mean I was too scared to. By the looks of it, he was holding back his rage, because he didn’t want to harm little Daely in my arms. I looked down at her, then at him, lost for words.

I-I don’t even know what to say or how to explain my way out of this. How can I? The evidence was already in his possession.

“I said put...the baby down!” He said through clenched teeth.

“P-please, c-calm down alright.” I stuttered, choking nervously, but he kept cutting me off.

“Put the baby down.” He repeated again.

Damn, he’s really pissed. I wouldn’t like the see what he’d do to me if Daely wasn’t in my arms. Just thinking about it has me on the edge.

“P-please... I—

Suddenly without having the nerve to do or say anything, he stepped forward and gently plucked Daely right out of my arms.

I gasped deeply as he cradles her head with his large hand. The rest of her little body laid on his muscular forearm as she slept.

Still stunned by what just happened, I stood there dumbfounded as I wrapped my arms over my body.

He walked over and rest her down gently on the changing table with the borders around it so she wouldn’t fall.

I don’t know what it was that has me feeling this way, but he really looks good with her in his arms. He was awfully gentle and careful with her... I have to admit, it made him even more attractive.

The cursed, possessive Alpha was soft with baby pups...but everything changed for the worst when she was finally out of his arms. He looked over at me with those intense green eyes and clenched jaw.

My back was against the wall as I held out my hand to stop him, but that didn't stop him. He marched over towards me impatiently and pressed his larger body against mines, snatching my jaw into his hand firmly.

“You’re a stubborn one!” He said down to me, staring across my face. “Why didn’t you moved when I told you to.”

I whimpered softly. I can’t believe the one man I was supposed to be protected from has me hold up in the property’s Nursery changing room. The one place I thought I’d be safe.

I swear he stops at nothing!

“T-this isn’t the time or the place for this!”

“Well, I just made it the time and place.” He said staring at me with those dark green eyes. “I couldn’t wait to get you alone.”

“But I’m not alone... p-please let me go...” I begged, clutching his wrist, but it only pissed him off even more.

“Who you think you’re talking to?” He said in a low voice, trying not to wake sleeping Daely.

He pulled out the picture collage from his pocket and held it to my face. “What the hell is this?” He asked, getting angrier by the second.

My heart was pounding hard as I looked at the different pictures of me and Jackson. Just seeing Jackson’s face in this current situation made me even more emotional.

“I asked you a question?” He said to me, but my mouth was folded shut because I didn’t know what to say. I’m already a terrible liar. I’ll just put myself in even more hot water.

Shit... he’s so close. Too close! I can feel his firm muscles pressing against me as he holds me against the wall.

He raises a sharp brow at me and locked his eyes onto mines. “Fine!” He said calmly, turning me around. “I guess you want to feel how hard I am for you.”

He thrust and dig his hips into my ass. I don’t know if it’s our clothing that was too thin or his dick print that was that big and hard. I could feel every inch of his thickness.

He grinds his hips slowly into me, rubbing his huge length between my ass cheeks. Goddess! That thing’s so hard and it throbbed... I could feel my core heating up.

T-this is too much... I hated it, but I couldn’t help the way I feel... It’s been a while since I’ve been touch like this. I’m in desperate need of a release, but I don’t want it from him! He’s getting way too comfortable.

“You’re trespassing... This is against the treaty—

“I don’t give a damn!” He cut me off. “I’m not trespassing if something belongs to me!”

“I don’t BELONG TO YOU!” I whispered yelled.

“Yes, the fuck you do!” He said, “Or is it the man in the picture you belong to? Why is he so close to my mate! Feeling on her... KISSING HER! Who the hell is he!”

Still refusing to talk, he arched my back, moving his large hand towards my neck and pull my head towards his chest.

“Still won’t tell me, huh?” He said.

I whimpered softly, looking over at Daely still fast asleep, but I couldn’t focus, his cock was literally springing in his pants as he thrust his hips harder against my ass.

“You feel mini-me, don’t you? You got him really happy...even from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He said in my ear. “This is what we have to go through whenever I smell that sharp, sweet smell of yours... You have no idea what you do to us, little girly.”

He grinds his hips harder from behind. His large hand travels down my body, groping a handful of my breast in my bra cup as the other moved over my stomach.

“You’re not going to talk... I’ll make you talk.” He seethed.

He moved his head into the crook of my neck and ran his tongue over my skin, sucking it firmly. Shivers starting to roll through my body. My breathing started to heave slightly.

He moved further down to my soft spot. The spot where every wolf gets to mark and grazed his sharp canines over it gently.

“Damn! You’re so fucking tempting... I wanna sink my teeth so deep in this sweet spot.” He said, “Mark, and finally, claim you as mines.”

“N-no...” I said, but I didn’t have the will power to pull away.

“Then are you ready to talk?” He said as he felt his dick throbbed uncontrollably against my ass. “Because I’ll have those eyes of yours rolling in the back of your head in no time.”

I parted and closed my lips. I was too petrified to speak. He grew impatient and moved his hand under my blouse, then under my bra cup.

My nipples we’re rock hard! I didn’t want him to feel how aroused I am. It would only make him try even harder to make me crack.

“Oh... I guess I’m not the only one that’s horny, am I.” He said in a lustful tone. “These nipples are nice and firm. Makes me want to suck them until they turn inside out.”

He tugged on my hard, round nipples between his fingers and nibbled on my ear. I-it felt so good. My core was heated up... I was on the edge of cumming...so close.

“I know you like it, Joel.” He kissed the back of my neck.

He said my name...the way he said my name... Goddess! A moan nearly slipped out of my mouth.

He removed one hand and took mine, resting it over his large, stiff dick print through his pants.

Oh my gosh!! He’s enormous!

I flinched, moving my hand away, but he grasped my hand tightly and forcefully move it up and down his length, groaning softly in my ear.

“Don’t run away! A little too late for that! It’s about time you met your future best friend. He’s gonna rearrange them guts... satisfy you real good!” He said rolling my nipple with his finger. “Only a few weeks left until I’ll finally tear up this phat pussy. I’ll be pounding the fuck out of you too with this thick ass you got. Long dick style. No breaks either.”

Oh shit... I was at my limit. I trembled in his hold as he feels me up and talks dirty in my ear. He spanked and grabbed my ass roughly, thrusting his hips into mines over and over, making my tits bounce in my shirt.

“Goddess...” I gasped, moaning beneath my breath. “P-please.”

“Tell me who’s the guy in the picture then.” He said sternly. “Because I just about had enough! If you don’t answer me, I’ll strip this pant off of you and eat this little pussy of yours, front and back. Stop playing with me. Better yet, I’ll suck on that throbbing clit until your head caves in. You’ll have no other choice but to tell me!”

“Please... The baby’s in the room!” I said.

“I know!” He said. “But my patience is growing thin

“B-but, but...”

He shoved his hand in the front of my pants, into my soaked underwear.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, princess.” He said slapping his finger over my pussy. “Damn, this kitty’s even more fat and juicy than I expected.”

My pussy clenched so hard. The sensation was swelling up in my core.

“Oh shit!” He groaned. “This little clit is throbbing wildly on my finger too.”

“T-That’s because your t-touching it...” I whimpered, trying to hold back as hard as I can.

“No, that’s because the Alpha’s in charge! You’re turned on by my masculinity. It’s every she wolf’s weakness.” He said leaving sloppy kisses down my neck, sucking on my skin harshly. “Oh...that’s gonna leave a mark, kitten. Better cover it up nice and good before momma Alpha sees it.”

“S-stop...” I moaned.

He paused for a moment and whispered down at me, “Was that a moan?” He said as I shook my head slightly. “Liar! Admit it! Am I causing this pussy juice to flow? I’m making this pussy tremble with pleasure, huh?

“No!”

“Yes!”

“N-no...”

"YES!" He said, rolling fast small circles around my sensitive clit.

I begin to squeeze my legs together as the climax began to roll in, but he stepped one leg between mines to keep them spread.

“Nah uh! Keep them spread! Not until you tell me who’s the man in the picture.” He said.

I was at the break of spilling it all out.

He knew all my weak spots. Bouncing and tugging my breast in my shirt, whiles teasing my clit and sucking on my neck. I’m about to... I’m about to—

“Matter of fact... this is just play, Joel... I can’t wait to see how you’ll be when this fat ass of yours is bouncing wildly on my long, hard cock, stuffing this little hole full.” He said, inhaling my scent deeply. “That’ll be some hot, sweaty sex... I could see it now. It’ll take five of my men to get me off you... When that time comes, we’ll be needing a changing room too after we’re done.”

Moon goddess!

“Who’s the man, Joel?” He asked for the last time, longing out his slimy, et tongue into my ear.

“H-he’s my ex... boyfriend!” I blurted out as I finally tip over the edge.

I moaned aloud, startling Daely just a little as I ride out my orgasm.

“Shh!” Darius said, “you’re gonna wake the baby.”

Embarrassed and sexually exposed, I held my head down, trembling as I waited for the pleasure to finally subside. I can’t believe I’ve cracked.

“Sweet sweet release, ain’t it?” He said rubbing my throbbing, wet pussy for the last time before moving his hand out of my pants.

He spun me around and lift my face up to his. I can’t believe I’m saying this...though I hated his guts, I can’t lie, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. The haircut really brought out more of his features.

The way that he looks at me with those dark green eyes. Those pink full lips, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, he was awfully handsome.

“He’s your ex, huh?” He said. “When did you two broke up?”

“That’s none of your business!” I mumbled.

His eyes flashed a bright gold as he tried to teem his wolf. He clutches my jaw, tightly.

“Don’t get smart with me, because we’ll go another round! And this time my long cock will be down that pretty, little throat of yours!” He said through clenched teeth. “Try me!”

“W-we broke up...a month ago...” I said feeling crushed for lying, but it was my only choice.

His eyes traveled over my face as we stared at each other for an intimate moment then he gradually stepped away.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” He said as Daely burst out crying.

I took a few steps away from him to go and comfort her, only to get a loud, hard spank on my left ass cheek, making my tits bounced in my blouse.

I gasped aloud and paused, feeling my pussy clench wildly as I took a few deep breaths.

After taking Daely in my arms, patting her over my shoulder, she gradually calmed down.

There was a slight awkwardness between us. He just stood there and watch as I held her gently in my arms. After what just happened, I was too embarrassed to look him in the face, so I looked to the ground instead.

“You know, you look really good with that baby in your hand... It turns me on even more seeing how I’m going to have you looking shortly.” He said, giving me a cheeky smile. “But for now...it’s just you and me.”

He walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

I let out a deep shaky breath, feeling all the weight of anxiety being lifted off me as I embraced little Daely.

“Miss Joel, I’m finished!” Alice said, flushing the toilet.

My eyes widened. I forgot she was in there! She opened the bathroom stall and washed her hand, but I was concerned about what she probably had heard.

“Alice,” I said calmly, “d-did you hear anything when you were in there?” I asked her.

“Yes! Musicals!” She said.

“M-musicals?” I said confusedly. “What do you mean?”

“My Momma and Papa do them at night,” she explained. My eyes widened as I finally realized what it meant. “Momma calls them musicals.”

I cleared my throat and nodded at her. “Y-yes they are, but don’t tell anyone you heard ‘musicals’ in the bathroom, alright?”

“Yup! She exclaimed skipping to the door.

For the life of me, please don’t tell anyone...

Read Chapter Ten (Click the link below)

[megaweeniesunday]

tonight im here tomorrow i might be gone

My first fic plz enjoy just a lil something to pass the time really.

Summary “Do you mind I’m trying to eat here?”

It startles a breathless elated laugh from her taking her attention off of how fucking close she is and how if Max just- just.

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

  Tonight I’m here, tomorrow I might be gone

There’s a weight on her stomach, warm breath puffing against her chilled skin. “Max?” A croak, she clears her throat and tries again.

“Max?”

Squinting into the dim light Chloe groans softly and closes her eyes again. “Hmm?” Fingertips trace random whorls and spirals on her stomach as Max hums softly in reply.

Finally, she squints her eyes open enough to look at Max only to see that Max is looking at her like she might disappear any moment. She wonders where she travelled, what world took her in her dreams, chewed her up and spat her back out when she woke.

“Are you ok?” She swallows her saliva thickly, throat parched and heart heavy as she reaches out and smooths the lines between Max’s brow with shaking fingers.

Max’s eyes track her like a feral predator watches its prey. Max grasps Chloe’s hands with her own and brings them to her lips where she kisses Chloe’s knuckles almost reverently. It sends a thrill of wet heat through her.

“Max?”

Max lifts herself from Chloe’s stomach and leans upwards brushing her lips against Chloe’s before kissing her. It’s teeth and tongue, breathing fire and time into her aching soul. Her body shudders beneath Max’s as she draws back, blue eyes taking in every inch of her face.

The kiss had left her breathless and disoriented so Max’s words catch her by surprise. “I’m fine.” Blinking slowly, it takes Chloe a few seconds before she remembers she had asked Max a question. “I’m just hungry.” She pushes herself up slightly looking around the floor from her position on Max’s bed for her pants and shirt. “What do you want to eat?”

Max leans close, brushes her lips against Chloe’s ear as if what she has to say is a secret only meant for her to hear. “You.” It’s a whisper of heat, of desire and oh, her mind grinds to a screeching halt as her gaze returns to Max. She reaches up, strokes Max’s still furrowed brow, slides shaking fingers into her hair and pulls her close until their lips brush as she speaks.

“Then have me.” She intended her words to be confident and sure, yet it’s more of a whispered prayer.

Max’s eyes meet her own and then she kisses her with the same desperate hunger as earlier. Chloe feels alive with the heat of Max’s mouth against her own, with Max’s hand sliding up her sides like worship and nails digging into her skin as if it will ground her to this mortal reality.

Like it will stop her world from tilting out beneath her and drop her smack dab into a world of familiar faces she doesn’t know anymore. Max’s hand dips beneath her underwear tracing a spiral into the crease of her thigh.

She sucks in a sharp breath, Max kisses her into silence, her fingers dip between her thighs and slide through her folds. The kiss takes the air in her lungs and turns it to stars and promises of more. “Max.” she moans into the kiss fingers sliding down Max’s body and clutching her tight. Her thumb brushes slow and languid against Chloe’s clit. Max kisses the corner of her mouth, presses a kiss to her jaw. Chloe tilts her head giving into Max’s silent request.

Max kisses her throat once, twice, and then sinks her teeth into the junction of her neck and shoulder, sucks on her heated skin. With an involuntary moan her hips buck seeking more contact with Max’s hand. She reaches up and presses Max against her neck eyes slipping closed.

“F-fuck.” Max spends a good amount of time leaving her mark as her fingers glide through Chloe’s wet folds teasing more than pleasing.

“Max.”

A frantic whisper. Max glances up at her and places a gentle kiss on what is sure to be one hell of a hickey before she starts making her way down Chloe’s body again. Chest heaving, she watches Max then whines when Max pulls her hand from between her legs.

Max glances up at her, smirks, hooks her fingers beneath Chloe’s panties and tugs meaningfully. Chloe lifts her hips, watches intently as Max pulls them down her legs tantalizingly slow and tosses them into a dark corner of her room.

She thinks they land on Lisa the plant. Poor innocent Lisa.

Max presses her lips against Chloe’s stomach, kisses a path down and hooks her arms around Chloe’s hips.  Max drags her to the edge and dives right in between her legs. Chloe grunts and then moans softly as Max’s tongue slides in zig zags through her slick folds.

“F-fuck.” Chloe fist the sheets tight in her hands watching Max. Max’s fingers splay across Chloe’s back as she sucks her clit, nips it gently, then sooths it with her tongue.

“Max.” She moans grasping at the sheets desperately, hooking her legs around Max she pulls her closer against her. One of Max’s hands pulls away from her back and trails a path down her body. Featherlight finger tips graze her hips, thighs, and then press against her entrance.

They slide in easily starting a steady pace that Max matches with her mouth. Chloe is writhing, chanting Max’s name like a prayer as she rolls her hips into Max’s mouth. Max rides her waves like a pro ebbing and flowing like water with every twitch and jerk of her hips.

If Chloe didn’t know any better she would have thought Max rewound to make this perfect because fuck Max is a master at cunnilingus. Must be because she’s a cunning linguist. She breathes out a laugh that turns into a throaty moan. She’s seeing stars burst, worlds bloom, she sees her future and it is Max. Max with her bright ancient blue eyes, Max with her uncontrollable sleep travelling. Max with her timeless sorrow born of a hundred thousand unlived lives.

Her fingers tangle in Max’s hair pressing her closer with every stuttering, heaving gasp of air she drags into her aching lungs. “M-Maax.” Her legs twitch, her back arches, her jaw clenches, and she begs through clenched teeth. She’s close, so fucking close and she’s not above begging at this point for it. So, she does. “M-Max. F-fuck, please just- “

Max doesn’t stop even as the door opens but it’s still not enough and Chloe is at the point she doesn’t fucking care if there is a witness or six she wants Max to stop fucking teasing her already. Max doesn’t stop at the sharp intake of breath. She doesn’t stop at the stunned silence. She does however stop when they hear a bewildered. “Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck.”

The sound Chloe makes is a mix between a frustrated groan and a needy whine her fingers curl desperately in Max’s hair silently begging her to get back to what she was doing. That being her. Max’s fingers curl inside of her as she murmurs in wry amusement to whoever has slammed the door open.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to eat here.”

It startles a breathless, elated laugh from her taking her attention off of how fucking close she is and how if Max just- just.

Yet Chloe can’t believe sweet, mild mannered Max fucking Caulfield had the audacity to say that after getting caught knuckle deep in her and lapping like a man who finally found his oasis in the desert.

Except she can, because its Max. Max whose fingers are pumping at a glacial pace. Max whose thumb whorls around her clit. Someone whines softly, she only realizes the sound is coming from her when Max presses a kiss to her inner thigh and it stops.

“What the fuck.” She pries her eyes open and sees that It’s Victoria fucking Chase looking blindsided.  Her fury builds through the clouded haze of lust because why the fuck is she still fucking in here holy fuck, she moves to lunge or get up or something, but Max holds her in place with the arm wrapped around her leg, tracing spirals into her back with her fingertips.

She settles for seething and glaring spitefully. “Why in the FUCK are you still in here? GET OUT!!” Her voice rises as she grabs the object next to her and chucks it. It turns out to be a pillow. Victoria flinches as it smacks her in the face but she still doesn’t move. She appears to have completely shut down. Blue Screened to be precise.

“I think they want a show.” Max’s voice is soft and gentle, an amused lilt tinging every word. It is a direct contrast to her thumb pressing firmly against her clit as Max’s fingers curl as deep as they can picking up the pace with every passing second.

Victoria sputters eyes widening and face flushing scarlet. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for water. And hey maybe she is, Chloe smirks at the thought her gaze travels to the door where a mix of curious and shocked faces peer in. Chloe bares her teeth at them, lifts her hand from the bed and Max’s hair and then flips them off with both hands. Daring them with her eyes to say anything.

They don’t.

She rolls her hips pleadingly. “Max, fuck them and pay attention to me.” Max looks at her one brow raising upwards as her lip quirks into a downright salacious smirk. She practically purrs. “But I am already fucking you darling.” And fuck if it doesn’t make her forget about the people watching. The tone, the look, the fucking confident smirk, it sears burning wet heat through her core, curls her toes and has her moaning thoughtlessly.

“Max, fuck fuck fuck.”

Max doesn’t often get like this but when she does she is an unstoppable force in whatever her mind is set on, it’s set on Chloe and it’s hot as fuck. Max leans forward, hums softly against her hot, wet flesh and glides her tongue through Chloe’s folds tasting her as if Chloe is a gift from a higher power.

“F-fuck Maax.”

The door finally slams shut with an incoherent stream of words Chloe doesn’t bother trying to parse through because, fuck, Max’s tongue and mouth are teaching her what it’s like to be worshipped. It doesn’t take much longer before she’s back to chanting Max’s name. Legs pressing her closer, fingers clenched tight in her hair. Her back arches high off the bed as she desperately cries out. “M-AAAAX!”

Her body spasms hips rolling into Max with every wave of her orgasm. Max holds her in place drinking her in greedily. She hums softly as Chloe sags into the bed, a puppet with its strings cut. Languidly she curls her fingers one last time and then pulls them out.

Max licks them clean watching Chloe the entire time she does it and then presses one last kiss between her legs, to her inner thigh and then kisses a path up. Nails rasp against her sides as Max sets about leaving more marks. Max smiles down at her when she reaches her goal and kisses her sweetly on the lips. She can taste herself.

Chloe smiles into the kiss and Max murmurs against her lips almost sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.” Chloe only laughs, chest still heaving as she comes down from her euphoria. “D-“ She sucks in frantic trembling breaths. “D-don’t be. That was hella hot Mad Max.” Max brushes their noses together and sighs. “Oh dog I’m never going to live that down Chloe.” Chloe grins wide and limply wraps her arms around Max. “What a way to be remembered.” She laughs as Max buries her face into Chloe’s neck with a groan. “Please tell me Kate wasn’t there at least.” Her laughter turns into snickering as Chloe buries her face into Max’s hair just imagining little Kate Marsh watching that.

“Chloe!”

Max whines and bites at her neck. Chloe inhales sharply and then hums. “C’mon Max, I wasn’t really paying attention. I don’t think I saw her though. I know I saw Dana, Juliet and the Vortex trio.”

Max grumbles and then exhales a deep sigh against her neck. “Great.” Chloe smiles looking up at the ceiling before pressing a blind kiss to the top of Max’s head. “Where did you travel?” She whispers it softly not able to bring herself to ask much louder than the level she is at. Half afraid to hear the answer but needing to know.

Max is quiet for a few moments pulling away to look into Chloe’s eyes. “No place I want to go back to.” Chloe bites her lip reaches up and trails her thumbs down Max’s forehead. Max closes her eyes and her thumbs brush down them reverently.  “Tell me about it anyway?” Another spiral is traced onto Chloe’s body, this one on her jaw, unlike the others it ends with an X. Her body trembles in what almost like feels like fear before Max starts talking.

“It was a bad timeline.-”

[my-emotional-self]

The Viking and The Star Part 9 (Ivar x OFC Hettie)

Pairings: Ivar x OFC Hettie

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, Slight Knife Play, Blood, Choking, Jealousy

Summary: Everyone makes it to Wessex and there is a celebration to be held.  Ivar becomes jealous of you and Hvitserk.  

The fleet of boats finally landed on land as the Great Army started to unload everything.  Grabbing your bag you made your way off the boat. Ivar quickly snatched your wrist as you turned to face him.  “We will have our tent made at the Northern part of camp near the forest.  My brother and Floki will be stationed closest to us.” Your heart raced from his touch as you nodded your head, letting him knew you understood.  It felt good, right, to be submissive to Ivar and you wanted to make him happy.  

As men started putting your and Ivar’s tent together, you went to find your sister.  When you first arrived, the camp was lush with beautiful green grass.  But now, with hundreds of army men, their wives and thralls, it was not turned into dirt and mud.  Wandering around, you finally found your sister.  

“Helga!” you exclaimed, your arm raising in the air to catch her attention.  She smiled when she saw you and waved you over to her tent.  

Trudging through dirt and mud, you finally reached her as you wrapped your arms around her.  “How did you fair in the boat?” she asked as you pulled away.  

Shrugging you answered, “It was alright.  The gods definitely blessed us with a decent trip.”

“That they did” she replied with a smile.  

“Where is Tanaruz?” you questioned as your eyes scanned your surroundings.  

Helga let out a frustrated sigh before answering you.  “In the tent resting.  She still has not eating much of anything and she will not talk to me.”

Placing your hands on Helga’s arms, you rubbed them up and down.  “It will take time Helga.  This is still a new territory for her.  She is frightened and probably feels lost.  Things will get better.”  You tried to remain hopeful for your dear sister, but on the inside, you felt as if something was not right with Tanaruz.  Something stirred in your stomach each time you thought of her.  

“Hettie, what a nice surprise.  How is Ivar treating you?” Floki teased as he came up behind Helga, placing his arms around her waist.  You smiled at him, envying the love they shared together.  You once loved Ivar with that much passion, but he hurt you long ago.  Even though he pleased you in the most delicious way, you have not fully forgiven him.

“Ivar treated me fairly Floki.  I slept as much as I could on the sail here.”  Floki grinned his mischievous ways at you making you chuckle.  “There will be a celebration tonight, for making it to Wessex safely.  Then the planning of avenging Ragnar will begin tomorrow.”

You made your way back to your tent to rid of the dress you were stuck wearing the entire journey to Wessex.  Opening the flap, you saw how spacious it actually was.  There were furs already placed on the ground for a bed.  Glancing around you did notice there was only one makeshift bed.  Your heart dropped to your stomach as realization set in; you and Ivar would be sharing a bed together.  

Opening your sack you found another dress to change into.  All you wanted was to get out of the sea smelling, dirt and sweat filled dress you had on now.  You pulled the sleeves down before removing the rest of your dress; the cooler air nipped at your flesh as goosebumps arose all over your skin.  

“Well well well” you heard Ivar’s voice from behind you making you freeze.  With wide eyes you slowly turned around to face him as your hands gripped your new dress off the bed to cover your exposed body.  His hungry eyes roamed up and down your body as your heart skipped in your chest.  The way he was looking at you, as if he was a hunter and you were his prey was really starting to make you dizzy.  You had never felt wanted before, but the way Ivar was looking at you, made you feel coveted.

Your arms started to move on their own, quickly dressing yourself.  “I-Ivar.  Is there something you needed?” you croaked out as you finished getting dressed; his eyes never leaving your body.  Ivar’s eyes landed back on yours as he gave you a smirk.  “Oh, I’ve got everything I need Hettie.”

~~~

The fire was blazing as the army drank their ale and ate their meat; celebrating a blessed journey to Wessex.  You felt beautiful and clean in your new dress as dark coal lined your emerald eyes making them shine bright.  You had plenty of ale to drink as you ambled around the campsite, talking with everybody that came into view.  You felt very sociable tonight and for once, it felt good to just talk to others.  

The entire night you felt a pair of eyes on you and each time you looked over at Ivar, you understood they were his.  His eyes never left you as you entertained yourself by conversing with others.  With his eyes on you, you felt safe, but at the same time it made you a bit uneasy.  You were a free woman, belonging to no man, at least not yet.  As much as you wanted Ivar to claim you, you also wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Hello Hvitserk” you giggled as you crashed down beside him next to the fire.  You had to admit, you might have had a bit too much to drink tonight, but it was a celebration after all.  

“Hettie” Hvitserk replied with his own laughter.  “Too much ale?”

You shrugged your shoulders at him before leaning your head on his arm.  “I do not know.  Perhaps. But I am having fun.  That is all that matters at this point.”  You looked up at Hvitserk through your long lashes as a playful smile graced your lips.  He smiled back down at you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead.  

Your body soon began to feel hot, flushed as you closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath.  Upon opening your eyes, you glanced across the fire to see Ivar clenching his mug with such force his knuckles were turning white; his eyes shooting daggers deep into your soul.  Giving him a sly smile you lifted your head to whisper into Hvitserk’s ear.  “I think Ivar is a bit jealous right now.”

Hvitserk tore his eyes from you to look in Ivar’s direction; the smile on his face soon faltering when he saw how irate Ivar looked.  You however found it funny.  “I am going to grab some more ale.  Would you like some?”  Hvitserk shook his head as he looked to his mug.  

Getting up from your spot next to Hvitserk, you marched over to the table where the ale was situated. The table was a bit away from the fire and hidden by a few tents.  As you poured yourself another mug you heard the familiar crawl of Ivar behind you. Turning around you saw the scowl placed on his alluring face.  You gave him a wry smile as his glare became deeper.  The ale swimming through your system made your reflexes slower and you did not have time to think as Ivar crawl steadily towards you.  

Before you knew it he had swiped your leg out from under you and you fell to your ass.  Pain radiated up your spine as your breath was knocked out of you.  You gasped for air as you clenched your eyes shut.  Without warning Ivar wrapped his hand around your throat blocking the oxygen to your lungs.  Your eyes shot open as his knife was placed on your cheek with enough pressure to draw blood.  

“How dare you make a fool of me in front of everyone Hettie!!” Ivar seethed as he pressed the blade firmer into your flesh.  You winced at the feeling yet at the same you could feel yourself becoming wet.  The pain of the blade mixed with the angry voice of Ivar was awakening your sexual desire and you wanted more.  He let the pressure on your throat decrease so you could speak.  

“I do not understand what you are talking about Ivar.  You have not claimed me for yourself.  I am a free woman” you argued back hoping to antagonize him some more.  

“I pleasured you the day we left for Wessex, did I not?”

How could you forget? It was the most pleasurable experience of your short life and you craved his touch ever since.  “You did Ivar.  But that means nothing.”

His eyes narrowed as he clenched his hands around your throat yet again, deciding what to say before untightening his hand.  “It does not mean anything huh?  If that is how you feel, then you WILL meet me back in our tent and I will claim you Hettie.  I will claim you so no other man will ever LOOK at you without dealing with consequences from me.”

Your heart sped up as he spoke; wetness pooling at your core.  Quickly nodding your head at his words, he took his hand off your throat as he bent down to your face.  He opened his mouth for his tongue to sweep up the blood from your cut cheek. “Go.  NOW” he urged as you quickly made your way to your feet and headed back to your shared tent.

Tag List: @kanupps06 @potterhead1265 @miss-cap21 @pumbibaby @the-real-kellymonster @princess-evans-addict @mustbenot @remember-that-one-blog @projectxhappiness @libbitinasdeath @mcuimxgine @kenzieam @lovelynerdytraveler @scckzy @skeletoresinthebasement @imnotinsanehunny @fuckyeahalexhoghandersen @vaisabu @kgbrenner @vbiggs03 @oddsnendsfanfics @romanchronicles @kawennote09 @awesome-as-i-wanna-be @forbiddden-snowflake @joybrett1002