#this was the first time in awhile i looked forward to continuing a drawing

[somnimagus]

out of the frying pan and into the fire and into another frying pan that's also on fire

[id in alt text]

[pursuitseternal]

“Use Your Words:” but Astarion prefers action 🔥 nsfw prompt fill: he’s your only companion.

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.6K of seductive smut

Anonymous prompt fill: what if he was your one and only companion? I also imagined, what if he discovered you write smutty things about him?

Summary: Your only companion has grown distant after you’ve turned his advances away once. And then Astarion finds your writing, your fantasies and imaginings that give him the inkling you’re not so against his advances as you once were 🔥

CW: wounded-pride vampire, yearning fulfilled, elegant prose about his whiff, banter and seduction, caught in flagrante the next morning…

Ao3 Link | Bites Series on Ao3 |List

Night falls, another evening to yourself as Astarion treads into the forest of the Mountain Pass to hunt. Perhaps your body would finally relax if you had allowed for more company on your journey to finding a healer. Sometimes, you question if you might see that Cleric of Shar or that Wizard again on the road forward. Perhaps this time you would agree… or even beg them… to join you. For days it has been only you two, you and the… vampire. He had made himself known, what he was known, awhile ago it seems.

You almost wish you had one more person with you to keep watch on him during those long, dark hours of night when he was the one on watch.

Of course, he fed on you nightly or daily, an act that ensured he stayed strong enough to protect you, even as you ran around bloodless the next morning. But, after that first night, you insisted he only feed when you are awake. There’s nothing, no one to hide his nature from.

Your camp is quiet, just a humble tent he makes each time in case of rain and two simple bedrolls by the fire. He hunts for your meat, bringing you back fresh kills, even if they are mostly drained already.

While your days are filled with adventure and bloodshed, your evenings are quiet.

Except for that one, a tenday ago already or more. When he suggested that he could give you a little something in return for the daily feeding you allotted him.

Your stomach had knotted, not unlike the way it does every time his fangs pierce your flesh, every time his lips and tongue suck you down over dinner by the fire. When you eat, so does he….

But that night he offered to taste more of you than the veins of your wrist.

No, you had replied. Flustered. Hasty. Head swimming from blood loss as your blood still dried on his chin. It wouldn’t be safe, too risky, too dangerous… too, too.

“A pity,” he had whispered before sliding away to keep watch first that night. “You look delicious in the moonlight…”

Since then, he had built so many walls, found so many excuses to keep himself busy during those quiet hours after dark before you slept. He kept every book you had looted, insisting that perhaps these were more helpful than any plans you had for finding a way to Moonrise Towers. When he wasn’t hunting, he was reading… or feeding…. Or if you caught him from the corner of your eye, glaring at you with some sort of mix of hunger and fear and resentment.

And you… you had taken to writing and drawing with quill and ink in a small leather book you purloined from the Monastery yesterday. Tonight, he turns from the mountain trails, two rabbits already prepped for roasting in his hands. He is silent. Something once so uncommon between you two. His hands work quickly to hang them over the fire, the scent of them cooking making your stomach growl. Astarion isn’t much of a cook, but he does at least continue to give you the consideration of a good nightly meal. His eyes look down at you, his gaze goes from sharp and bitter to… surprised.

“What the hells are you doing?” he demands, that voice just as silken as he judges you as when he tires to seduce you.

You shrug, pulling the small book against your stomach. “Nothing… not really….”

“Come come now, I bring you a brace of rabbits, you could at least reward me with some entertainment….” His eyes shift as he lowers himself to sit beside you on your bedroll. Something he hasn’t done since you rejected him. And you can tell, by the way his tongue rolls, he’s teasing you with just what kind of entertainment you insist on offering him.

Or denying him.

“I’m… not sure,” you hem in hesitation. And for as much as you know in your brain you should lean away as he encroaches on your space, you just… can’t. You missed that easy company he gave you. Before he suggested more. Before his naming you delicious had settled in your brain as a daily moniker you could almost hear him thinking as he drank from you still.

Oh yes, that was what he wanted. You swallow loudly, keeping the journal between your thighs, rolling up the cuff of your nightshirt for him to drink from your wrist. He catches your hand in his, a soft cradle to his fingers, thumb stroking up the sensitive gooseflesh of your inner wrist. As if he were trying to find the perfect spot to bite.

As if he didn’t always bite in the same place.

Before you know it, that small book is pulled from your hiding spot, his velvety voice peeling giggles as he cracks it open where your quill rests. But then he freezes.

“You’re writing… poetry?” He gives you that rakish look, that canted brow and quirking lips, even as you try to snatch it back.

You growl, aggravated. He’s just too quick and too dexterous to fight fair. “Music, if you must know… though I am no bard… just with words.”

He casts a look at you, one of pure judgment, “So, poetry, darling.”

“Does it matter? It’s mine,” you huff, reaching across his lap for your book. He doesn’t waste a second, using your frustration and your momentum to flatten you out over his thighs.

And over other parts of his anatomy you… well, ones you had been observing perhaps more since his advance on you that night.

He presses his elbows into your back, points digging between your shoulder blades. “Your words choice is impeccable… gods, when was the last time I read anything with the word effervescent in it… or nefarious…” he pauses; leaning forward to put more of his body weight into where he prods your back. “Oh my, you little scribe of humble poetry… who is this who ‘you wish to inhale the scent of petrichor from his skin?’”

His voice fades quieter. And your stomach sinks as you can feel his pride curling stronger inside him. “Oh, I had no idea darling… and here I was, thinking you just kept me for my looks and that I bring you food for a warm meal each night.” He leans back on his palm, your book still in one hand, and that blastedly smug smirk on his sharp features. “I had no idea you wanted to smell the fresh earth scent on my skin till dawn.”

You cringe, rising back up to your knees. Mortified that he read your drabbles, your little ways of occupying your thoughts, with him so… distant. And you, so alone.

“How long would you let yourself keep pining for me? Yearning for the scent of my skin on yours, hmm?” He smirks so twistedly, his fangs flash in the firelight. “All you have to do is ask, pet.” He gives you a cheeky grin, proffering the book back towards you, “unless…” he yanks it from the tips of you fingers. “Unless you wanted me to find your lustful prose… In which case you might be an even more masterful seductress than I gave you credit for, darling.”

“Give it back….” You whine. Irritated and annoyed. And your skin grows hotter by the second the more those crimson eyes stare into yours.

“Ah, ah,” he taunts and flaunts the book in your face. “I know you are more gifted with words than that. What if we play a game? Let’s see just how prettily you can plead to have this book back in your possession… unless there is something else you wish me to give you?”

“I….” You swallow. Your belly cries out yes, yes there is something else. Your reason however still nags at you that it is too dangerous.

That he is too dangerous.

“I think it might be best if we just eat and go to bed, Astarion,” you whisper. But even your own ears aren’t convinced by that timid tone.

“You think…?” he purrs, setting the book right at the top of your lap. Pushing it against your body. “Sounds rather uncertain for a wordsmith.”

You can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath down your neck. Cold… like the mountain wind that carries his scent to your nose. That earth-laden scent of his skin masked by his fragrances of sharp citrus and mellow herbs. His hand barely brushes the top of your thigh as he withdraws, not an accident with his skilled hands. And all you're left with as he rises back to his feet is the true night breeze chilling your skin and the scent of roasting meat over the fire.

Astarion smiles to himself, all arrogance and seduction, using his dagger, one you hope is clean, to carve off the freshly cooked rabbit. He places it in the bowl with his own fingers, only looking up at you to lock eyes as he languorously licks the juice from those pale digits.

“You know,” he starts to muse, eyes cast into the night sky. The perfect picture of wistful. “We could have been quite the pair, you and I, aside from the obvious prowess in battle thus far. There’s much about one another I’m sure we would… enjoy… getting to know, many layers of ourselves we could peel off one another….”

You sigh, and he hears it, head snapping down to give you that look like you’re his next meal served up as prettily as the one he starts bringing in your direction. “Shame you haven’t capitalized on two such offers now.”

“Tell me, just how much are we alike? Can’t be that much if your advances have failed twice…” you smirk, feeling a little bratty edge, a naughty tone in your voice.

It makes him smile, and wrinkle his nose in insult all at once.

He settles near you, not so close as before. Waiting for you to pick at your food first before he can reach for your wrist. Instead his eyes seem fixed on your mouth, watching as your fingers place your food inside, the way you suck them clean after each bite. “Alike?” He finally speaks after a swallow and a shift of his body. “No, I think we… complement one another, though we may be completely opposite. You love to write. I love to read. You can't help but follow your instinct to give aid to nearly everyone we encounter, and I keep us going ahead on our adventure regardless. You speak with justice, and I can swindle and rob.” He grins, finally leaning closer to wrap his cold fingers around your wrist. He tugs you, more forcefully than usual. Resting your palm against the hard planes of his chest. “We go well together, lots of give and take…. I can give… if you can take it, darling”

You almost choke on the food in your mouth, his hand landing square in your back, slap after slap as you try to clear it completely.

“I don’t think words would bring you so close to death, darling,” he continues, giving you room to grab your water and drink from the glass neck of its bottle a few times. “I mean, I was hoping I might bring you to a little death, but not that close to that kind…”

You groan. Shoving your wrist in his face you throw him a withering glare. “Please, you think you’re so skilled with your tongue…”

“…and other parts of my anatomy, yes.”

You smack him with your arm in the chest. “Fine, given you know my little secret, that I love words….”

“…not to mention your ever-growing lust for me since you’ve realized your mistake, that secret too.”

Another smack in his chest, this time he half catches it, holding your extended arm tightly.

“Why don’t you use some words instead and tell me what you would do?”

He brings the tender flesh of your wrist against his lips, eyes half closed as he speaks against your skin. “I’ve never been one for poetic flattery as a tool of seduction and a means of conquest.” He runs his tongue up to your palm. “I’m rather limited in where I can demonstrate…” he flashes his eyes down the collar of your nightshirt, “unless you wish to grant me a larger sample?”

“Use your words first…” you simper, “then perhaps if I’m convinced.”

“I’d rather make little words and sounds cry from your lips instead…” he rasps, skating the edge of his fang back down your arm. A little, breathy moans slips from your mouth, and you feel him laughing. “That’s right, darling. You’re delectable, delicious…” the wet breadth of his tongue sweeps back up to your hand. “You’re tantalizing and succulent….” Your thumb slips into his mouth as he toys with it around that devilish tongue. “Luscious and mouthwatering… even if I wasn’t a Spawn I would no doubt hunger for you night and day….”

You have slid closer, close enough for one of your legs to dart between his muscled thighs. Fingers grip into your thigh, pulling that leg higher, right into the peak of his lap. He’s still caressing inside your wrist, his thumb working one way, his tongue another. You can hear your own breath quicken, your pulse deafens your ears to any sound but your heart and the wet sucks of his mouth.

Just as the swirling rhythm of his tongue threatens to sweep you away with it, his teeth bite into your wrist. The slice of pain through the heat and tingling bliss that gathers in your core shed pleasure exploding from your core. His eyes flare wide, watching as you can’t break your own stare from his mouth on your wrist, on the feeling of your blood melding with his own body.

“Now… you’re a writer of sorts, so im sure you’re familiar with all sorts of flowery terms for all of life’s… delicacies. For instance,” he pauses to drink down more of your blood from your wrist, “imagine all that I did on your poor, unsuspecting wrist but instead…” he pulls you by the wrist until your chest is flush with his, your breasts, unbound under your shirt, rising and falling with your rapid breath. “Imagine I’m… diving for your most precious pearl. Delving into your treasure trove before I… plow your fertile garden.”

“Maybe you should shut your mouth and leave the poetic words to me,” you hiss, barely annoyed and definitely flustered by the sensations in your folds his words alone have stirred.

“Maybe you need to make me shut my mouth, darling,” his hand wraps around to the small of your back. “If you want this, darling, but, given your poetic musings, we both know you do….”

“We both know it, do we?” you pout a bit, a little sneer on your lips.

Suddenly you're laid out in your back, his arms caging over your, thighs pressing on the outside of your own. You laugh, “You’re obscene, Astarion…”

“Come on now, we’ve already established I want you to call me so much worse than that, little poet,” he smirks down on you, taunting mercilessly as you squirm beneath him.

“Shouldn’t we…” you eye your surroundings.

“Why don’t you just forget about all this madness for tonight, let me show you just how complementary we can be, darling.”

You wrap your arms around his long, graceful neck, and pull him down to crush you into the dirt, into your bedroll. Night passes impossibly fast, a dance of limbs and undulations that last the night. You only pause for a drink and to stoke the fire to keep your skin warm against the freezing mountain air. You lose count how many times he takes you, on his fingers, on his tongue, speared relentlessly in every position on his cock.

Your brain is numb from pleasure, your neck numb from his bites, your nipples aching from his lips and well… the rest of your whole lower half strains as you grip your thighs around his waist one more time. His fingers claw into your hips, locking you firmly in place as he thrusts into you. The way his hips grind each time, you’ve already lost yourself in one more wave of sweat and pleasurable fire down your nerves. From the grunts on his breath, he’s not far behind. Astarion’s hips snap quicker, harder. Deeper. Until he’s shuddering and collapsing on your frame for a final time. His sweat covers your skin, and you do breathe deep that scent of wet earth as if it were your own perfume. One more stilted pant and he pulls out of your swollen aching, overused folds.

With a deep recovering sigh, he starts to lift the blanket from your bed… but you catch it, tucking it back around his shoulders. “I was… thinking… it’s cold in the mountains. And…” he rolls over to face you, sharp face furrowed even sharper, skeptical as you finally use your voice for more than moans and screaming his name and how good he feels. “…maybe since you’re already so cold, you could stay?”

He pauses, a bit rigid as he perches halfway out, away from you. Halfway close to you.

“Please, Astarion, it’s cold, and I am warm. There would be no better place for you to rest than between the warm campfire and me….” You leave the offer gently in the air. Rolling on your side to face him, you wait and watch his thoughts flicker behind those crimson eyes. Uncertain, unsure. As if, despite being the consummate lover he had always bragged about being, this was his first invitation to sleep with someone.

Just sleep.

To keep him warm from the mountain air.

Blanketed in all manner of heat for once.

Slowly, he slinks back beside you, perched on his side like you are, his face trying hard to remain just as self-assured. Even though you see his eyes dart, as if waiting for you to change your mind.

“Relax, Astarion,” you whisper, taking the top blanket and wrapping it over the high crest of his shoulders. Tucking him in. “I feel more than complimentary with you now…” you tease. “And you were right….”

“Of course I was,” he huffs dramatically as he lays on his back beside you, head turning to flash you a devilish look. “You’ll have to be more specific though; what was I right about?”

“Actions were definitely more fun than just using my words….”

He chuffs a laugh, exhausted and spent and wet from how much of you he’s consumed, blood and arousal still staining his chin. You slide a tinge closer, slotting your body beside him, wriggling yourself in that small space between his arm and chest. Ever so slightly, his hand finds your elbow, bringing it over his chest as his breath deepens for his trance.

He seems happy, contented. Your world reduced to only you two, the only beings in Faerûn it seems, sharing one bed. And you wonder for a moment why you ever turned him down before.

Sleep claims you quickly… but dawn finds you somehow faster.

“Ahem,” a deep voice startles you awake, your eyes flying open to find three faces staring down on you in your bedroll.

You in your bedroll naked… and not alone.

That Druid from the Grove, you almost forgot you told him to join you if they could find you, he smiles at you, a bit cheeky and a bit good-humored. And your cheeks are searing hot. Astarion has already bolted up to sit, dagger in hand from somewhere he had it, just in case.

But he’s already lowered it to the earth at the familiar visitors.

“We did say we would come find your camp in the Pass, didn’t we?” the Druid Halsin chuckles in that big baritone of his.

The other two beside him, the Wizard… Gale and that Cleric whose name has already slipped your sleepy memory look far less approving of catching you on full display after your night’s activities.

“Well, you’ve found us…” Astarion bites acerbically, letting his full annoyance color his silken tones. “Make yourselves at home, if it pleases you.”

He lays back down, tucking himself half on top of you, that long, lean arm of his caging over your bared chest, squashing your breasts beneath it.

Your voice finally returns, even as mortified as you feel for that moment. “Plenty of supplies and food in the trunks.” You try to wave in that direction, but his arm clutches harder, a smile of his lips playfully pressing against your cheek.

The prick.

“Well I certainly hope you have some clean bedrolls,” that Cleric sasses back.

“Feel free to take mine,” Astarion barely lifts his head to call after the three. “Seems I won’t be needing it any longer,” he purrs, pulling you closer to warm his undead, chilled skin.

“You probably will,” you shake your head as you give your reply.

“Not when I can simply give you another demonstration to convince you otherwise,” he smirks, hand slinking fast and nearly imperceptible until it finds the still-slick mess of your night’s pursuits between your thighs.

You give a huff of a laugh, “Do you forget it isn’t just us two any longer?”

Your vampire shrugs. “A boon and a pity in some ways, which reminds me….” A mischievous smirk on his lips before he brings your wrist to his mouth for another suckle. “You will obviously give them the night watch now instead… won’t you?”

You laugh, chiding and yet pleased all at once. “Only if you convince me, and if you use your words this time.”

[authurials]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ... 1/3

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . you look to secure your future in way of a betrothal--against the wishes of your lover, ser harwin strong

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . two / three

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations, sexual intercourse (m/f), fingering, minimal dirty talk, nudity, diet coke angst

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . been meaning to write this idea for awhile but inspo has come and gone the past couple of weeks. here it finally is though! i love the character of harwin and will definitely be writing more for him in the future. if you enjoy reading this and want to see more from me make sure to follow and turn on notifications, and if you have an idea you’d like to see feel free to send me a request. remember to like, comment and reblog if you enjoy reading! do not repost/claim as your own please

“𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐌,” the words were whispered into the plains of your trembling stomach, followed by the press of desperate kisses into the soft flesh. “Do not leave me.”

Your lover shifted above you, making their way down your body as you stared teary eyed up at the canopy of your bed–weak and wanting. It was pathetic really and far from your original intention when you invited him into your solar, yet there you found yourself–sprawled out across the bed, dress pulled down over your exposed breasts and bunched at your waist, at the mercy of the man you loved. 

And love Harwin Strong you did. 

You had loved him since you were a girl of six and ten, stealing away to meet him at the shores of the Gods Eyes; you had loved him when he left to join the City Watch, you had even loved him when he fell into the bed of another, whom had bore him two sons and was pregnant with a third. Even after each offense against your heart, you had still let him crawl back into your bed and back inside of you under the shroud of night, swallowing moontea the next morning like a bitter poison. It was true that you could not stop yourself from loving Harwin Strong, but you could ensure that your own future was secure in spite of that fact.

“I can’t,” you choked out a shuddering breath, back arching as you felt his head duck back under your skirts; already he had drawn two releases out of you, with the promise of many more to come until you relented on the subject of your recent betrothal. Yet though your body was more than willing, your mind and heart refused to relinquish so easily this time–before? Maybe. But now there was more at stake than just someone finding out about your premarital trysts because now it was with someone who was not your intended. “Harwin, please….”

“Please what?” He whispered against your thigh, the scratch of his beard against the already sensitive flesh drawing another moan from you. “Tell me what you want–what you need–and it is yours.”

You sighed as his fingers teased through the lips of your wet cunt, pressing forward to circle your opening before gently placing pressure on your clit. Your body shuddered, knees drawing up and away from the intensity of the pleasure, feet pressing into the mattress as Harwin continued his ministrations. The pad of his thumb rubbed your clit in circular motions, slow at first before increasing in speed as he pressed kisses up the length of your inner thigh. You felt his breath on you, cold against the slickness of your arousal as he pushed two fingers into the heat of you.

“I need….” you gasped out, unable to string together the right words as your thought process was lost to the crook of his fingers inside of you. “Oh gods, Harwin!”

“This is what you need,” he spoke with certainty through clenched teeth, the whisper of a punishing bite against the skin of your leg.  “This–right here–my fingers, my cock, inside of you….claiming you. Tell me this is what you want and it is yours.”

“But it isn’t,” you croaked out desperately, hips moving in earnest now against the glide of his fingers inside of you.

“It is,” he reaffirmed gruffly, pace quickening as he seemingly became desperate to make you see the truth–or more accurately his truth.

For Harwin, things had always been so simple between the two of you–very black or white. You both loved, you both desired therefore you belonged to one another–or at least you did when he was not busy in his affairs with the named heir. For Harwin, there was no repercussions–no proof–if only things were as simple for you; you held the proof of your couplings between your legs, and in the heaviness of your heart when you looked upon the unclaimed family he had made with a woman he owed his loyalty to. You could not so easily forget these transgressions, nor the reality of your place in this world–without a husband, without children, you were nothing; your love for Harwin, no matter how strong, could not save you from this fate.

And so you had betrothed yourself to Larys Strong, Harwin’s younger brother, in hopes of creating a future of something rather than nothing.

The news of your betrothal had not gone over well with Harwin, even worse so when he found out it was to be his own brother you would call your husband. Yet up until this moment, you had not yielded to Harwin’s pleas or compromises and even now you only simply entertained them to satisfy more base desires. You knew come morning he would return to his post, and you’d once again be left empty by the whole experience–or you would have had you not promised to take your breakfast with Larys and his father to discuss arrangements. This was to be a short engagement, you believed, with plans moving quickly to secure the deal between both families. You had a reluctant suspicion that both sides were aware of you and Harwin, and therefore worried you might prove to be a flight risk.

“It is yours,” Harwin continued to mutter against your body, pressing kisses up your torso this time as his fingers continued to pump into you. He whispered the words into your skin like a prayer, as if he could somehow speak them into reality; nipping and sucking at your breasts, he pulled away only long enough to utter the next few words, “it has always been yours.”

With that, he leaned down and claimed a nipple with his lips, using his free hand to tend to the other as he suckled at the peaked flesh. Your thighs pressed against his forearm, trying to still his movements as your peak drew closer. The resolve to stop him had slowly slipped from your grasp as you finally let go, instead settling for riding the crashing waves of your approaching release. He owed you this much you had concluded–one last time for memory’s sake, something to fill the quiet moments of your marriage.

“Harwin,” you gasped as he pulled his fingers free from you, fearful that he might have finally come to his senses just as you had lost all of yours. Instead, you watched as he reached down to push down his trousers just enough to release the impressive girth of his cock–the all too familiar vein that ran the length of it pulsed as he gripped it in his slick hand. Mezmorized, you watched as he pumped it to fullness, shifting to a comfortable position between your thighs. Spreading your legs, you allowed him to settle in the cradle of them as he pressed the head of his cock to your entrance.

For a moment, both of you hesitated and looked at the other with hooded eyes, waiting for what you did not know. Your resolve had already fallen through, there was no going back now–might as well finish what you both had started; not just this one moment, but all of them, all the way back to the very first time he had had you. There was no regret in your heart, but the taste of it lingered on your tongue as Harwin pushed his way inside of you. Sat back on his knees, your legs pulled over his, he pushed into you slowly all the while his gaze on your face.

You had no choice but to stare back, tilting your hips so he entered at a better angle and hit right where you needed him. Gasping as the length of his cock dragged against your inner walls, you let all thoughts of what was to come leave. This moment was for yourself, something for you to take with you after; you were sure there would be little pleasure to be had in your union with Larys, but you had already promised yourself to be a dutiful and loyal wife; thankfully, as Harwin pulled out slowly only to thrust all the way back in in one fluid movement, you thought about how you had yet to take on that title.

Planting his hands under both of your arms, Harwin leaned over and claimed your lips in a searing kiss; it was a clash of lips and teeth, all take and no give on both of their parts. You could taste the punishment on his tongue as he kissed you almost desperately, as if he knew that this would be the last time. His hips moved at a brutal pace, rolling against yours in a fast rhythm as flesh slapped against flesh. The strong bands of his arms came around you, cradling you against the monolith of his chest as he began to fuck you with deep, shallow thrusts. Sighing, your hands came up to comb through his hair, your own hips lifting up only to be pushed back down into the mattress.

When you came, it was almost together, Harwin not falling far behind you as you came apart in his arms. Your legs lifted, knees framing his hips as you tried to keep him there inside, the feel of his seed an odd sensation even after all this time. For a moment, you could imagine it quickening into a son, with dark hair and eyes–fantasy turned nightmare as he became a mirror of a child that already walked the halls of the castle. Closing your eyes, you shakily breathed in and out, focusing on the press of Harwin’s hips as he continued to rut into you.

Only when he was done spilling did he pull out of you slowly, hand coming down between you once more to clean his cock with the already soiled sheets; you would have to remember to have him dispose of them when he left. You watched with eyes half mast as he tucked himself back into his trousers, leaving them unlaced as he sat up, kneeling between your open legs. His eyes traced down your body from your face, over your exposed breasts and the beaded sweat on your stomach, all the way to the cum dripping from between your lower lips. The heated expression could only be read as one of satisfaction, of pride in a job well done, and for a moment you allowed yourself to smile–until you reminded yourself of what needed to be done.

Ignoring the protest of the muscles in your body, you sat up, face level with hair on Harwin’s chest–once a feature you adored about him, now you simply stared blankly at it. All of the sudden you felt tired as you put yourself to rights, or as much as you could without a proper bath. You pulled your legs out from around Harwin, tucking them in as you turned to get off the bed. Before you could, however, you felt Harwin place a hand on your shoulder, the pads of his fingers brushing away the hair at the nape of your neck as he leaned down to press a kiss there. You almost allowed yourself to fall into that gesture, allowing your eyes to close as you let Harwin bring you back to bed for a good night’s sleep.

But there would be no good night’s sleep, not when there was moontea to fetch and sheets to dispose of and a Lord Commander to convince to leave. You knew Harwin would not go easily, he saw this as him having won, fully expecting you to go back on your word and to not marry his brother. That, however, was not an option, you would not make a fool of yourself, or  your family, or even his; Lyonel had been generous enough to take a counsel with her father to discuss the possibility of uniting their houses, and Larys was reasonable enough to understand that this was a marriage of duty, and not one of love. He would not expect more than what was expected out of a wife–you would be loyal to him after this moment of weakness, bear his children proudly, and stand by his side always. You would have the life with Larys that you could not with Harwin, and it was not fair of either him or yourself to deny you that possibility.

Sighing, you pulled away as you felt Harwin attempt to press another kiss to your neck. Finally able to disengage yourself from his body, you made your way to the fireplace to stroke the flames within with a poker; there was already a kettle and grate there, you just needed more moontea. Feeling his eyes on your disheveled person, you reluctantly turned to look at Harwin finally; he remained kneeling on your bed, confused and maybe a little afraid. It was a strange sight to see, and for another paralyzing moment you felt your resolve slip, but you squared your shoulders and cleared your throat:

“I am out of moontea.”

It was stated as a fact, the request for him to fetch more implied, but as you waited for a response you saw he made no move to get up and put himself to rights. Sighing, you felt your shoulders sag, hands folded in front of you as you walked closer to the bed, head bent slightly in apologies.

“I know this is hard, Harwin,” you began, “trust me–it is hard for me as well.”

“Then why are you doing it?” Harwin demanded to know, frown upon his lips. “Why marry my brother if it is so hard?”

“Because….” You tried to string together the right words, putting them together in your head but nothing sounded right. How did you even begin to explain everything to him in a way that did not give way to all your anger and hurt?

“Why?” He demanded again, impassioned this time as he pushed himself from the bed and made his way towards you. “Why are you doing this to us?”

You hesitated for a moment before your lips set in a grim line: “And what is it exactly that I am doing to us? I am doing nothing that has not already been done, ser.”

Harwin looked away as you addressed him by his title instead of his name, a common occurrence when you were angry with him–and angry with him you were.

“I have done everything I can for us,” you continued. “I have loved you and only you since I was a girl, Harwin–there has been no one else nor will there ever be.”

He reached out to you but you held up your hand in protest, stepping back to put space between you two as you took a deep breath. You looked around your room, it had been yours since Harwin had brought you here under the guise of being a handmaiden. Soon, it would be another girl’s, probably not all that different from yourself–would she too foolishly and blindly love a man that was not her own?

“But I have grown tired of waiting,” you spoke brokenly, feeling the ache deep in your throat as you choked the words out. “I am tired of watching you love another as you have loved me, and I am tired of watching her carry the children that should have been ours. They were taken from me before they could even quicken, Harwin, and yet I still feel the weight of their ghosts inside of me just as I feel the weight of this tired heart.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, tears stinging your eyes as you looked at him. Desperately, he held out his hand as he spoke:

“Please know that I never meant to hurt you–”

“Yet you have, Harwin,” you inserted, “and I allowed it for so many years because I had hoped that someday I would call you my husband, and you would call me your wife. It will never happen, though, will it?”

The silence that spread out between you as Harwin allowed his hand to drop was answer enough. Tearfully, you nodded, lifting your hand to wipe them away.

“I am sorry,” he broke the silence, taking slow but assured steps towards you. “I am sorry that I have allowed this to go on for so long, and that I have caused you this pain. But you must know that when I say I love you those words ring true, that for me it has only ever been you. No matter what I have done or will do, you will always be who I come back to, don't you see that?”

“What if that is not enough?” You replied as he stopped in front of you. “I deserve more, Harwin; I deserve a man I can call husband, I deserve children, I deserve….everything that I have put aside because of my love for you. I have allowed myself to settle for less for far too long and even though the marriage between Larys and I will not be made of love, at least I will not have to hide it from the world.”

“Please,” Harwin grabbed your hands, letting the entwined fingers hang between your bodies as he spoke, “I know it is selfish of me to ask….but please do not do this. I will make this right; I will leave the City Watch, I will make you a home, I will give you a child–”

“Will you marry me?” You interrupted, staring at him with intensity. “Say you will marry me, right here with the gods as my witness.”

“I-” he tried to speak but you continued.

“Say you will marry me,” you repeated, looking into his eyes as you stepped closer–chest to chest, “and I will not take the moontea, I will call off the betrothal to your brother, and I will be only yours for however long we both shall live. But if you cannot do that for me then I will not allow your seed to quicken this night, I will marry your brother as soon as I am able, and I will never allow you to touch me again–I will no longer be yours, Harwin.”

“I want nothing more than to marry you,” Harwin spoke, pain evident in his eyes.

“But?” You asked, hands coming up to grip the sleeves of his tunic as tears slid down your face. “This is all I have ever asked of your Harwin, this is all I have ever wanted–to be your wife, to be yours truly and completely. Why can I not have it? Answer me this.”

When he did not answer you shouted: “You at least owe me this! Tell me! Tell me why we cannot marry! Tell me-”

He stopped you with a kiss, cupping your face as he stole your breath away, silencing your cries. At first, you melted into the kiss, eyes threatening to close before you remembered your fury and began to push him away. Breaking the kiss, you glared at him, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you turned your back on him and began to walk away.

“I am afraid she will hurt you,” his voice stopped you midstep, and you looked over your shoulder at his torn expression. “She knows of us and has allowed me to be with you only because I have continued to warm her bed. Me and her share a love, but it is different than what I feel for you, it is a love built out of respect and loyalty and fondness. I see the same fire in her that I feel in myself, and it has drawn me to her over the years. I love the children she has borne, but they were never mine to claim; I would love nothing more than to see you heavy with child–my child–to know that I put them inside of you….yet I fear if she were to find out how truly enamored I am with you that she would hurt you and then I would truly have nothing.”

Again, he strode over to you and took your face, eyes pleading as he continued-

“But if marriage is what you most desire then I shall give it to you. I will not allow duty to drive us apart any longer, for I could not bear it if you were gone from my arms forever. I will speak to her and hope that the years we have spent together–the children we have made–have meant enough for her to let me go. And if not, then I will take you away from here and marry you as another man if I must.”

“Truly?” You spoke, barely above a whisper, hardly daring to believe. “This is not a jest?”

“I would not jest about such things,” he smiled warmly, the pad of his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “Now, may I take my future bride to bed? There is much to be done tomorrow; I would have us married by the end of day.”

“You cannot be serious-” you stopped when he raised an eyebrow, cracking a smile of your own as you leaned in to press your lips together softly. “You may take me to bed then.”

“Good,” he leaned down to pick you by the backs of your knees, his other arm supporting your back as he carried you to bed. 

Once the soiled sheets were stripped and replaced with fresh ones, Harwin took off your own ruined dress and laid you naked on the bed. At first, you thought he intended to ravish you once more before sleep but instead he climbed in naked as well and wrapped an arm around your waist, hand settling over your stomach in an unspoken promise. Tomorrow would surely bring its own challenges, but for now you could rest easy in the arms of the man you loved–the man that you would marry.

[yooms-posts]

Bi-panic

Characters: kaeya and rosaria, diluc and jean, yelan and childe x gn reader

Tags?: bi gn reader, suggestive at some parts, reader just being overwhelmed by both parties because their hot

Kaeya and rosaria

omfg I live for this duo

I'm putting you as one of the bartenders at angels share

anyways, kaeya would be the first one who talks to you and ends up flirting with you

he finds you attractive that's for sure but that's in second place why he's drawn to you, it was your personality that draw him in

serving him drinks like he was any other customer but he eventually manage to stay in your head

making small talks here and there when your on duty and he's there

rosaria was quite wary of you, but don't take that the wrong way she is wary of everyone who she isn't very familiar with

but with your personality and patience, you manage to strike up a conversation with her whenever she's at the bar

fast forward they both took a liking at you

that's when the flirting starts happening

it was quite easy to tell you were interested in both men and women and the duo was going to 'abuse' that knowledge

it starts by keaya openly complimenting you about your appearance and slyly inserting suggestive comments on you

rosaria stepping up her game, going as far as tracing your arms suggestively

you were so close to burst into flames everytime they do that, it also dosen't help that the duo was quite attractive

it goes on for quite awhile, even diluc notice how you are close to exploding everytime one of them is at the bar

in the end it's up to you whether u wanna end up with one of them or both

Diluc and jean

I wanna say the both of them would unintentionally tease you

both of them is so alluring in their own way...

Jean: a strong women, acting grand Master, a very good leader, responsible and very good-looking

Diluc: mysterious, has a strong presence whenever he's around, smart, has alot of connections and very attractive

and there was you: a healer at the cathedral, has alot of patience, kind-hearted, slightly shy and beautiful

a werid combination no?

continuing on, you were close to Barbara seeing that both of you are healers making you indirectly close to jean

but after a dangerous mission of defeating of davalin, Jean was quite a messed and needed immediate attention (because I say so, ain't no way anybody would not be slightly hurt during that battle)

you would love to meet her but under different circumstances, but you continued to do your best and heal her as best as you could

after she woke up she thanked you but was quickly asked to stay at the cathedral longer since she just recovered

that made you converse with one another, you just grin like an idiot most of the time while she talked

but as for diluc, you meet him under different circumstances

at early morning you decided it would be nice to walk around enjoying the morning breeze unfor that didn't go as planed

a cryo and pryo abyss mage spawned and tried to kill you since you walked to close to their hideout

you could easily deal with the pryo but the cryo mage was causing to much problems

and that's when your knight in shine armour saved you

diluc came in and finished off the pryo mage and quickly dealing with the cryo one but soon got surprised ambushed by a pryo mage

which hurt him in the process, while you tried your best to heal him and distract the abyss mages

healing him was your small token of gratitude and he couldn't be more thankful

after all that sometimes diluc will come to your house after doing his night protrols and help him patch up

what a sight to see 👀

anyways Jean was still quite busy with her work but tried to visit you and Barbara when she has a little free time

kaeya has teased you non stop since you catch both the attention of his brother AND the acting grand master

both of them too attractive for their own good making you lose your cool sometimes around them

as said before, you could end up with both or just one of them

Yelan and childe

you work with yelan

at first she worked solo not finding a partner suitable but you came along and changed her mind

1. because you had lots and lots of connections around liyue and other nations, making you very knowledgeable about what shaddy business has happened

2. because you know your priorities and wouldn't beat around the bush when investating

after awhile the both of you got along well together

making sure liyue is safe from any shaddy business made by the fatui

after awhile, she starts seeing you in a different light

ofcourse you were attractive before but since when do you squint your eyes a little when uncomfortable or when you play at the hems of your shirt when bored?

she noticed the very small details and couldn't be more embarrassed

but then came along the hydro fatui

making the both you and yelan wary of him

after some digging you figured out he was a harbinger, which was a threat to liyues safety

having much to little information about him, you decided to present yourself to him as a local

which was against yelan because as much as your good with your vision, a harbinger isn't a easy enemy

ofcourse childe was secretly suspicious of you, but seeing that you seem clueless about him makes him slightly okay with you

that dosent mean he's gonna let his guard down for you

continuing on, you and childe grown slightly closer since he was quite easy-going

leaving a bitter taste for yelan as she watches you

I'm sure childe figured that u were using him for information about the fatui but let it slide

honestly I'm kinda lost on how they would tease you but it's up to your imagination what happends after

[asimperingswannsong]

Larissa’s Reluctant Romance

Part 3 of my messy shitposting…I’m determined to do a part 4 ADHD be damned…we’ll see.

Larissa/Wednesday

The school year quickly began to draw to a close after Larissa returned from her weekend trip. She’d resumed her normal routine and accordingly one evening around 7pm she was buried in paperwork at her laptop when she noticed the door dividing her office from her apartment slowly swinging open. She thought that was very odd so she got up to investigate. She saw the flickering of a flame coming from her dining room doorway and entered to find a spring bloom scented candle lit on the table next to a plate of her favorite pasta and a glass of red. She took that to mean that Wednesday disapproved of her missing dinner time. She decided since it was already there and it smelled delicious she may as well make time to enjoy the pasta.

This became something of a routine with Wednesday leaving dinner plated on the table once or twice a week next to a small arrangement she’d collected from the grounds - Larissa feigned ignorance when her groundskeeper noticed the missing blooms and complained. Sometimes it was dinner and a new book, usually poetry.

Finally the last week of school arrived. On the day before the students were set to return home, Larissa found dinner accompanied by a soundtrack coming from her record player. Wednesday had recorded some of her pieces. This was the best gift so far. Larissa adored Wednesday’s cello playing. She looked forward to being able to play it when she liked.

The year ended and the students left in a mass exodus. At first Larissa stayed busy scheduling in service meetings for staff over the summer. Eventually though things settled down and she started to notice herself feeling lonelier than usual. She hadn’t previously struggled over the summer. She caught herself thinking she was missing her ‘dinner dates’ and then immediately recognized how bizarre the thought was.

She decided she needed to find ways to occupy her time. She started by planting a small herb garden in containers on her balcony. She took another weekend trip, complete with too much shopping. Finally she settled on painting workshops she’d seen a flyer for at the local bookshop.

Larissa used to love painting but she hadn’t allowed herself the time to indulge in it in years. She thoroughly enjoyed herself for a little over a month before she started to pull back as she started interviewing and hiring for open positions for the upcoming school year. This was followed by a few weeks of helping the new hires settle in and acclimate.

One morning, Ms. Thurgood, one of the new maintenance workers stopped by her office. “Good morning Ms. Weems.” “Good morning Ms. Thurgood. How are you? Are you settling in nicely?” “I’m doing good thank you.” “What can I do for you?” “I had a question about one of the rooms in Ophelia Hall. I was cleaning in there and noticed a closet with a hasp and padlock on it. Do I need a key for cleaning it?” “I wasn’t aware there were any closets locked in that manner either. It maybe something a student did without permission. I’ll check into it. Where is it?” “It’s in the large double room on the top floor with the balcony facing the quad.” “Thank you Ms. Thurgood.”

Larissa made her way to the room that Wednesday shared with Enid. It had been years since she picked a lock but she’d spent enough time with Morticia that she manages after awhile to unlock the closet. Inside she found dozens of bags and boxes with luxury items: sunglasses, purses, heels, perfume, etc.

She knelt and dug through the packages. She started finding receipts. One of the purses and the sunglasses were dated within a few days of her birthday. These heels were bought just before she’d left for an educator’s conference out of state; and they perfectly matched the dress she’d worn. Apparently, Wednesday had continued buying her lavish gifts, but she’d started storing them here instead of giving them to her after Larissa had reprimanded her for it. Larissa stayed knelt down in the closet contemplating the shrine that had been built to her.

She replaced the lock, asked Ms. Thurgood to ignore the closet, and resolved to speak to Wednesday about it when she returned. Finally the summer ended and the students returned. Larissa was busy getting everyone and everything in order.

A few weeks in and things started to settle. One evening Larissa noticed Enid and Ajax making their way across the quad. No doubt they believed they were being discreet on their way to a make out session. Larissa made her way to Wednesday’s room.

She stopped outside and listened for awhile to the sound of Wednesday playing. This was a new piece she hadn’t heard before. Eventually she opened the door and stepped inside. She crossed the room and stepped out onto the balcony behind Wednesday. She noticed the title of the music she played started with LTPW; her initials.

“Wednesday?” She stopped playing and turned. “Good evening Principal Weems.” “LTPW?” “Your initials. I wrote the piece while thinking of you.” Why had Larissa half expected her to try and lie? Wednesday never shied away from the truth in its bluntest form.

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten about me over the summer.” “I’m afraid I must disappoint you.” “I found all of the items you bought and locked away in the closet.” Wednesday broke eye contact, turning away. “I stopped giving them to you after you said you were made uncomfortable by them. But I found that continuing to buy things as I thought of you provided me with an outlet for feelings that I was otherwise unable to process.”

Larissa felt a tightness in her chest. She sympathized with Wednesday. She’d spent her school years here in an entirely one sided relationship as well. She hated that she was the cause of Wednesday’s unhappiness. She wished she could fix it. “Darling have you thought about trying to take your mind off of these feelings? Maybe you could try dating someone? There’s a new siren named Cleo who’s very pretty.”

Wednesday felt patronized by Larissa’s unsolicited advice. She felt she was trying to pawn her off on someone else; she was an unwanted burden from which Larissa wished to be rid.

“Has that worked for you?” “What do you mean?” “Have you been able to cure yourself of being in love with my mother by dating other people?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about Wednesday.” “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve found a sort of twisted cosmic humor in the knowledge that you’ve spent years pining over Morticia without her acknowledging it and now her daughter is doing the same with you.” “What makes you think I’m in love with her?”

“I’ve seen visions of the two of you together,

making love in the moonlight, in this room; right over there.” She pointed to Enid’s bed. When Larissa’s jaw began working properly again, she said, “I think we’ve already discussed how unreliable your visions can be Wednesday.” After a pause, “Besides that was a long time ago. We were teenagers.”

“But you weren’t teenagers when your breath hitched, your pupils dilated, and your pulse increased when you greeted her the day I was enrolled. All signs indicating that your feelings remain very much intact.” Larissa stared at Wednesday dumbfounded by the intensity of her scrutiny. She knew her to be intelligent and attentive but she’d failed to appreciate exactly how observant she could be. She flushed at the thought of how much she’d unknowingly given away.

She then pictured Wednesday seeing Larissa and Morticia in bed together. She was sure that her cheeks, ears, and neck had to be glowing in the darkness. “Wednesday I’m sorry if you’re unable to manage your feelings as much as you’d like but I want to be clear that I expect this relationship to be one of educator and student. I don’t want you to embarrass me in front of faculty if they see music you’ve titled after me or gifts you’ve bought and carelessly left for anyone to find.”

Larissa left quickly, fleeing into the corridor, and all the way back to her office. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. She was shocked at how harsh she’d spoken to Wednesday, but her telling Larissa that she knew of her feelings for Morticia had ripped open an old wound. Larissa had convinced herself that it had been so long ago that no one was aware of what had happened anymore, but now she knew Wednesday had seen part of it and pieced together even more. Larissa was deeply unsettled.

She started to avoid Wednesday. She even went as far as having other staff convey messages to her or reprimand her when someone complained. She felt restless. She’d sit and stew about it. She’d resolve to try and speak to Wednesday, but then change her mind. Eventually she decided she had to do something, and she figured if her advice was good enough to try and give to Wednesday, it was good enough for her to take herself.

With the help of the young lady at the bookstore in town Larissa finally managed to set up a profile on a dating app. She agreed to a date on Friday. They met for dinner. He was a perfectly nice, perfectly fine, perfectly boring accountant from in town.

She tried to let him steer the conversation. She really did. It’s just he didn’t seem to have a lot to offer. It wasn’t long before she fell in to her usual topic, work. It was all over from there. That’s all they discussed; well she discussed, he listened. She realized afterward that she really should have pulled back on work talk. It had to bore anyone not associated with the academy. That’s why she was surprised to receive a text a few days later asking for a second date.

She sighed and thought it sounded like sort of a waste of time. She had plenty of paperwork other tasks to do but she’d promised herself that this time would be different. She agreed to meet. They went for a movie and he chose a college based comedy with juvenile humor that he guffawed at throughout. She felt herself repeatedly rolling her eyes.

Afterward they went to the Weathervane for coffee, hot chocolate, and pastries. They walked back to her car from there and he surprised her by leaning in for a kiss. Just as she started to return it she opened her eyes briefly and caught sight of Wednesday exiting a shop across the street.

For the briefest moment she saw a look of pain on her face that she recognized immediately. It was the same look she saw in the mirror of her dorm mom’s bathroom where she’d gone to gather herself after finding Morticia and Gomez together in their shared room.

The look was covered quickly by Wednesday’s usual blank expression as she turned and walked away. But it had lasted long enough to take the wind from body like a punch to the gut. She pulled away from her date who was confused. She apologized hastily by telling him she spotted one of her problem students whose town privileges were currently revoked. She left him staring after her as she went to try and track Wednesday down.

She was unsuccessful and returned to school still bothered by the look she’d seen on her face. They occupied the same school together but Larissa could not for the life of her track Wednesday down over the next few days. She’d see her in her classes through the window but if she tried to catch her in the hallway afterward it was like she’d melted into the crowd completely. The gifts and the dinners stopped. Larissa was surprised by how hurt she was by it. She declined the accountant’s third date request.

[whatgaviiformes]

Reflecting on 2022

Good Mornin'! I'm sitting here with my morning coffee with New Years Eve finally arriving on my side of the world. There are aspects of 2023 I am hugely looking forward to and other things that are making me dread it. We have a lot going on over on my side of the world, and I apologize if New Years comes with an aura of sadness to it. Always will for personal family reasons. Looking back, looking forward.... two sides of the coin.

But let’s focus on just the one, at the moment. Yes? 

Things that make me happy:

2022 Artwork!!

This commission of Gordon and Enki

This commission of my DnD character Zephyr and another of my girl Cascade.

This interpretation of chicken!dad, and this one of chicken!dad and chicken!uncle

Pirate-y Tracys

2022 Gifted/inspired works

This hilarious story by @thedryswan!! I was cackling so hard but won't ruin the surprise for you. :)

This series by @godsliltippy over shared music interests.

This one shot by @the-lady-razorsharp that makes me cry like a baby every time. And the other one. She knows which one. It still means the world <3.

This one by @katblu42 for the olympics!AU and the rest of the Olympics AUs which can be found here.

 My TAGSS from 2021 continued into 2022 and Nutty's kind interpretation of Enki and more of Virgil knitting. Thanks for letting me borrow!! @gumnut-logic

The real life gifts. 🐓🐬💚 

The real life friends. 

Things of my own I am proud of: There are times this is very easy. And other times when I hate all of it. I'll let you guess which New Years brings out.

CRAFTWORKS: This doily hits all of my favorites. Texture, shades of blue, and subtle fandom reference.

My two multi-chap AUs of the year: Hold Fast and Tracy Seaside Orchard and Farm , both of which also had additional one shots and spin-offs added throughout the year

Directionless (oneshot prompt gift for @onereyofstarlight)

We Tried the World (oneshot TAGminibang for @lenle-g)

In Stitches (one-shot in short scenes)

I won’t have the pretty graphs like Bri did when she did her summary, but I can give some basic stats - with a margin for error for stories that overlap years and such. But according to AO3 - I wrote 132K words in 2022, across 19 works. I don’t need the stats to know my top characters were Virgil and Gordon, because to no one’s surprise I write FishTank. And my genres are gonna be AU, angst, feels, and lol this was a fluff prompt. :D

I am filled with an immense amount of gratefulness for all the engagement and for those that welcomed my silly ideas into your brainspaces. We have a lot of writers in Thunderfam - a lot of amazing writer’s and despite all that you decided to give my sailors and chickens and dolphins a try. <3 

In 2023 I think it may be time to step out of the AUs. I want my writing to feel approachable, and as much as I love these ideas, after awhile it might become old hat. We’ll see - they are also my playground and all three have so much still to explore. I also want to write some of the grand old BootScoot and Space Cadet. I like the Tracy boys, not just FishTank, and surprise! Earth & Sky was my first brotp, you know. 

And this particular year, I leaned a lot on @the-original-sineater  for my sanity checks so a huge thank you as well to Sin for being the first set of eyes on a lot of these this year. It is so appreciated and I am lucky to have you as a friend. 

Other Things

There is so much artwork that fills me with joy, and I know I will forget folks, so I won’t tag. But if you’ve posted artwork, this is geared towards you. I have 0 talent at drawing, so I am always amazed when I see ideas come to life in that way. I don’t know how we got so lucky to have so many talented folks sharing their art with us, but we do and major <3 for it. 

All of our writers. Again. I will forget folks, but I value all of our wonderful voices. Unfortunately, I didn’t keep up with commenting when spoons were low, even though I said I was going to do better. I will have to keep working on it. And same as above. We are so lucky to have the quantity and QUALITY of fics we do. 

To readers, commenters, kudos-givers - we see you, we love you. Thank you for all you do!

To the crafty folks - I love seeing your work, your WIPS, and talking about different techniques and inspirations. I hope we can keep it up in 2023! Just from 2022 alone, I learned Tunisian Crochet, and am about to finish my first garter stitch knit scarf. And this is from a life-long crocheter! You all are inspirations to me and I can’t even imagine what 2023 will bring. 

To the RP crowd - thanks for playing with my silly Gordon and giving him the space when I need to step back. It’s been so fun stepping into his flippers in this new way.

And finally, to friendships continued! It’s with @janetm74‘s encouragement I joined tumblr again, and I will never forget that back when I posted Scenes. I’ve only continued to get to know more of you, and though it’s only been my first FULL year in fandom (getting close to 2 total), there are new voices, new voices to me, and I get to learn more about this group of people everyday. My life is better with you all in it, even if we don’t interact everyday. 

Happy 2023 - at some point I need to watch Captain Scarlet so I can catch up with all of your cross-overs!! 

[bryan360]

Here’s my note before I’ll get started….l

(DON’T YOU EVER COPY FROM MINE OR MY FRIEND’S WORK, CHARACTERS, AND STUFF IF ONE OF YOU ARE IMPOSTERS WHO HAD HABITS OF PLAGIARISM! I WILL BLOCK YOU FROM MY BLOG IF I SEE YOUR POST WITH MINE OR MY FRIEND’S ORIGINAL WORK BEING EDITED ALL OVER! I’LL EVEN SHARE IT ONTO MY BLOG SO IF EVERYONE WILL SEE THAT YOU TRYING TO COPY MINE OR MY FRIEND’S THINGS FOR NO GOOD REASON WHATSOEVER! That will be all….I mean it.)

My Owned iPad (5th Generation) Device

🇵🇷Me: Hi there to everyone and to my closest friends! I got a surprise share for all of you as I'm going through this month; especially if I'll be coming back to my digital style drawings. However due from my iPad Mini's storage running out that I've mentioned from last month's post. ⬇️

Link Here

🇵🇷Me: Although I understand while making some options, my P-Pal told me to get a new flash drive so hoping it'll make more storage for my iPad device to expand. So there's that, but as I'm making this post, I do have some surprises that my mom give me while eventually wait to get a flash drive soon. It'll take awhile to explain through this, but hear me out that I got myself another iPad Device!

My Story Explain:

Back in April. 23rd, 2022; while I was continue my secret art trade drawing in progress with my iPad, but struggle so many times as long the storage data was full. It's disappointed if I'm unable to do my upcoming digital artworks unless I would to upgrade my iCloud storage space or getting a new iPad for Christmas this year or another year before that. That being said, I got myself an unexpected surprise from my mom give me. I believe it happens during the afternoon while I was working, my mom called to me and give me this tablet that she originally was hers years ago. Although times change when moving into her newer tablet as of today, but for me it was something I was hoping to have as well. I've been having my original iPad Mini device since I got from 🎄🎅Christmas of 2015. ⬇️

Link Here #2

While It had been aged that I would make some comparisons through details soon, but still at least running well without any technical problems to power up my iPad Mini tablet. For now though, it still had storage data full that I would leave it until I can get a flash drive to expand soon. However with my mom's used tablet device that I'll be happy to take care of; especially if means to get back my digital artwork plans going forward. Looking at it though, I went searching online to found out that's the 5th Generation iPad; originally been released back in March. 24th, 2017 (before discontinued through March. 27th, 2018) to receive positive reviews. Although you already know before while I showing this by surprise, but it was interesting nonetheless. Still I would love to have my own newer versions. Anyways, it designed like from any iPad devices. Unlike with my iPad Mini though, this iPad had 9.7 inches display with Touch ID and Multi-touch screen option than what my iPad Mini can do. Hoping if I'm right that I would to use it on both YouTube and PicsArt at the same time during my work progress. It'll be like with my Samsung Tab E that it works on multi-tasking as well, but differently.

Also came with it was this old cover case that I'll be keeping until I can get a newer one due to having scratches. Looks like its been really long that I would considered, but at least nothing lot to handle. I would to figure what brand for this cover case made from though.

🇵🇷Me: Well, this is how far I can remember after my mom give me her used iPad device to own. For that, it was a miracle thinking I could imagine. Me having the 5th Generation iPad for the first time like ever. Though it was something if I would to upgrade or move to another tablet with better performance and running longer battery run. However, I'm still keeping my iPad Mini device with me as long it was still works well. Time will tell if I do move forward with a much better iPad device in the near future, but for now there's nothing to rush on. What that being said, I'm gladly to take care with my own 5th Generation iPad after my mom give me. Here's hoping my digital artwork plans to continue as well. In fact, I wanted to get into my birthday art gift before Friday 6th for my P-Pal turning 29th this year. Anyways, I'm letting you guys to react after revealing my surprise post I gotten. How about my mains though?

🐰🖌Maxwell: That's really a surprise after your mom give this tablet for you who's originally was hers. Though while it wasn't a newer version we're looking for, but at least came close to be his first 5th Generation iPad to own.

🐰👊💥May: Yeah, something like that. It was nice of you having your mom give you this iPad as a gift of sorts.

🦊⚽️Sam: Indeed. Sometimes its better than to wait of getting a newer iPad device for Christmas, but just saying.

🇵🇷Me: Thanks for giving your thoughts, you guys. There's more things I can cover with this iPad soon. Until then, see ya guys guys for my latest art post share to go through. 👍🏼

Tagged: @murumokirby360 @carmenramcat @alexander1301

[hot-hellboy]

My Nightingale - A Jasico Fanfic (Part 5)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

 Nico woke up sore and unfortunately alone. He sat up in Jason’s bed with the sheets pulled up to his chest. At first he thought the boy regretted his confession earlier and changed his mind about a relationship. That thought made Nico’s heart sink, but his mood immediately shifted when Jason stepped out of the bathroom.

  “Hey, Nico.”

  Jason said cheerfully and he walked over to kiss his forehead. Nico blushed but quickly moved away when he was going to lean in for a kiss on the mouth.

  “Let me brush my teeth first.”

  He said, chagrined and he took Jason’s old sweatshirt that covered his thighs and went to the bathroom. Nico brushed his teeth and thought about the events from last night with a red face.   He returned back to the room and straddled Jason once the older boy got seated on the bed. Nico gave him a real kiss this time and cupped his face with his hands.

  “I look forward to waking up everyday like this.”

  Jason whispered to him and Nico couldn’t agree more.

  “Me too.”

  They made out for awhile before Nico suggested they go take a shower, and Jason picked him up and placed him on the bathroom counter.   Jason undressed himself from his underwear and pajama pants and helped Nico get his sweatshirt off before turning on the water and cranking the heat up.  They got inside and helped wash each other off until Nico got handsy and Jason reciprocated until the two boys ended up having a quickie in the shower .  Jason pulled out with a satisfied sigh and Nico dried himself off once he got out and proceeded to get dressed.

  “What are you looking for?”

  He asked as he observed Nico muttering under his breath as he rummaged through his clothes.

  “A non-revealing shirt to cover up these hickeys that you gave me.”

  He said annoyed but Jason couldn’t help but chuckle lightly as he walked up to his new boyfriend and hugged him from behind.

  “I think they look good on you.”

  He said in a low voice and Nico soon got flustered and gave up trying.

 Breakfast was as awkward as ever once Nico had to explain what the marks were on his neck, but the crew didn’t have many dots to connect when they glanced between Jason and Nico sitting next to each other.  Hazel fanned herself and Nico couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  Of course he had to wait until sunset to have a conversation with Jason, but he waited patiently up at the crow’s nest. However, before Nico had climbed up the mast, he stopped by him and his boyfriend’s shared cabin and was only in there to look for a sweater since the evening was getting colder.  He found his smoky gray chunky knit sweater and shrugged it on. But before Nico was going to leave, the bird encyclopedia caught his eye.    He smiled fondly to himself as he remembered the first night he stayed over in the cabin.

  As Nico was reminiscing over a far too recent time, he continued to gaze at the worn and frayed cover of the book with the songbirds on the it.   He couldn’t help himself any longer and picked up the book. It was heavier than expected and he opened it and distractedly looked through the aged pages.  The illustrations were so incredibly detailed that Nico could have mistaken the drawings of the birds to be real. Though most of the birds in the encyclopedia were from North America, Nico did check the Italy section of the book and recognized some of the species he had grown up seeing in Venice.  Nico was so immersed in the book that he nearly forgot how close to sunset it was, and without thinking, he took the book of birds with him up to the crow’s nest where he had promised to meet with Jason.

 It was kind of difficult climbing the mast with one hand and a book in the other, but Nico managed somehow and watched the blazing horizon. A flock of birds were flying overhead and he quickly opened the book to try and match them to their descriptions and pictures, but unfortunately they were gone by the time he flipped to the table of contents.  Nico was focused so much on his reading that he didn’t realize Jason had climbed up and joined him at the top of the mast.

  “Oh gods, don’t scare me like that. And I’m sorry for taking your book, I know I should’ve asked if it was-“

  Nico started speaking rapidly but Jason only laughed and nudged him gently with his arm.

  “Hey, it’s totally fine. I’m glad you’re taking interest in it.”

  Nico sighed in relief upon finding that Jason wasn’t angry with him. He hesitantly leaned against his arm as they watched the sunset at the very peak of the Argo II.

  “So what got you into birds? I never did ask.”

  He started to say, quickly comprehending it wasn’t the most romantic conversation starter considering the beautiful scenery and setting.

  “Oh, uh, it kind of all started with my childhood, and with my mom. I know that birds and my mother don’t really correlate but they do in a weird way, I guess.”

  Nico remembered Jason didn’t really talk much about his mom and mostly mentioned Thalia whenever he was talking about his family, but Nico listened to him as he shared a story from long ago.

  “I think I told you she was an alcoholic, but there was one day when she got blackout drunk and Thalia and I pretty much had the house to ourselves. I was about a few years old at the time before I went to train with Lupa, and Thalia was a lot older than me, but I remember her telling me to wait at home while she went downtown to one of the bookstores in the city. Anyway, she came back with that encyclopedia and I remember us sitting in the dark in her room with a flashlight looking at the pictures of the birds while our mom was too busy hooking up with random guys and drinking until she passed out.”

  Jason explained and Nico continued listening. His heart hurt to hear how bad Jason’s situation must have been, especially for a two year old toddler.

  “It’s crazy you remember all that.”

  He murmured and he felt Jason nod.

  “Yeah, but when I went to the Wolf House and had to say goodbye to Thalia and my mom, I took that book with me. I remember after training with Lupa and her wolves as well as the other young Roman demigods, I would open the book and just look through the pages for hours. Sometimes I’d stay up all night memorizing every fact about all the kinds of birds because it reminded me of Thalia. Even though I’ve read it a million times by now, I still keep it around because she got it for me. And...”

  Jason trailed off with a wistful faraway look in his eyes. Nico was positive he wasn’t even staring off into the fiery sunset, but instead was looking beyond the horizon. He speculated that Jason was looking past the skyline and into his own world of memories, sad and sweet. A place Nico visited often when he thought of Bianca, but instead in Jason’s case, he was visiting a place full of memories of early childhood.  

  “And?”

  Nico prompted quietly.

  “...And this is going to sound really weird but...When I Thalia and I were studying the pictures of the birds, we talked about how we wanted to fly away, far away from mom and away from the drugs and the drinking. Kind of ironic since we both eventually found out we were children of Zeus.”

  “But now I get why it’s special to you.”

  Nico said as he stroked the cover with his fingertips and placed his other hand in Jason’s and squeezed lightly.

  “I’m sorry, Nico, I don’t mean to bore you. I’m sure that was a lot of stuff about me, and it’s really not that significant-“

  “Don’t say that.”

  Nico chided.

  “You’re not boring me, in fact, I love hearing you share about your life. It just makes me sad to hear how rough it was in the beginning, but I’m glad I found you.”

  He leaned his head on his shoulder. Nico knew where Jason was coming from, he himself also wanted to fly away sometimes, too. Especially when he lost his sister and mother, the only thing he wanted to do was grow wings and be carried away on gentle winds to a place much safer and happier than it was on earth. Nico understood the feeling perfectly.

  “No, I’m the lucky one because you walked into my life, Nic.”

  Nico had no idea how to respond to that. He wanted to argue the same thing but the opposite in which he was the lucky one, but instead he settled for peaceful silence.

  I love you, Nico repeated over and over internally as he shared this moment with Jason.

  “What’s your favorite bird?”

  Nico decided to ask after a couple of minutes of nothing but quiet.

  “A nightingale.”

  Jason said almost immediately.

  “Why?”

  “Because it reminds me of you.”

  Nico was tempted to go looking through the encyclopedia for a picture of a nightingale, but Jason did it for him as he took the book out of Nico’s lap and scrolled down through the table of contents.  He flipped to the page of the specified bird, which happened to be a light dusty brown bird about the size of a small teacup. It’s dark eyes were expressive and Nico looked closely at the watercolor illustration. That was another thing he noticed about the book; All of the art was in watercolor, and he thought it was a very pretty touch.

  “They say the nightingale has the most beautiful voice. It’s clear, almost like ringing bells.”

  It took Nico a second to catch on, before he was left utterly confused.

  “I don’t sound that good if that’s the relation you’re claiming I have-“

  “Oh yes you do.”

  Jason said sincerely, but Nico was positive his boyfriend had never heard him sing. He was about to be proven very wrong.

  “I hear you hum all the time, and in case you thought my room is soundproof, it isn’t. I hear you sing in the shower quite frequently, actually.”

  Jason said and Nico’s face flushed in embarrassment.

  “Jay-“

  “You sound amazing, Nico. I’m dead serious. That’s why this bird reminds me of you, and it’s really cute, just like you.”

  Nico was certainly enlightened by the cheesiness of Jason’s compliments, but they meant the world to him nonetheless.

  “This is why I love you.”

  He said and turned his face into the crook of Jason’s neck.

  “As I do, my nightingale.”

The

   End.

[theghostpinesmusic]

"Everything Must Go" debuted on 10/1/22, at Pullman Yards. Like a lot of Goose's slower, ballad-type songs (also see "Not Alone," "Lead Up," "Silver Rising," "Borne," etc.), this one was initially a slow burn for me. The first time I heard "Arcadia," or "Thatch," by comparison, I was immediately a fan. But there's something about the band's slower songs (and Rick's slower compositions in particular) that take more listens for me to appreciate.

As a result, for awhile I kind of dreaded this song showing up in a setlist. I had a hard time "getting" the lyrics, and the nonstandard changes paired with the slow tempo made it feel like one of those tunes that seems to exist to suck the air out of a rollicking set of rock and roll music.

I don't recall exactly when it was that the song clicked for me, but it showed up during Goosemas '22 and then a lot of the great runs of early '23: Capitol Theater, the Met, the Ryman, and the Salt Shed. Somewhere in there, I started looking forward to hearing it (I wrote "I LIKE THIS ONE NOW" in goofy, stoned handwriting in my notes for 3/24/23).

It's not a rule but it is a tendency that ballads don't become jam vehicles: Phish is more likely to deliver a monster-jammed version of "Tweezer" than of "Wading In The Velvet Sea." I'd guess the assumption here is that ballads, by definition, are written to draw attention to lyrics, to emotion, to sentiment. Something like a "Tweezer," or a "Harry Hood," or even to some degree a "Thatch" has less immediately evocative lyrics (or no lyrics at all, in the case of something like "Jive Lee"), and thus if it's going to provide any sort of emotional punch or catharsis, it by necessity has to come from the music that follows the lyrics.

To this point, "Everything Must Go" was originally played "straight," with little to no improvisation, and felt, to me, just fine in that configuration. I don't expect a big jam out of "Silver Rising" or "726" because they are already gorgeous songs whose composed music and striking lyrics speak for themselves, and the same went for "EMG."

Around the middle of '23, there were a few versions of the tune that briefly stepped out of the box, but these felt more like curiosities than intentional attempts to take the song into outer space. Then came fall '23, when the band seemed to really turn (another) corner in the depth and quality of their communication and jamming, and "EMG" got a shot in the arm. The 9/14 and 9/20 versions both include notable jams. The 9/29 version, which I saw in person during the last set of my six-show in-person run down the west coast, felt like it was about to break into top-tier jam status, but was wrapped up instead to end the show and set up a monster "Hot Tea" encore (to be clear, I'm not complaining).

The next version, from Red Rocks '23, was one of the most profound examples of improvisation I've heard the band engage in since I started listening. I will almost certainly write this one up at some point.

So, exposition completed, let's jump now to the 11/16 version, from Manchester. While the band also played a great version of "EMG" on 11/7, during the Amsterdam show I've already written a bunch about, it felt a bit like a reprise of the Red Rocks version; while it's great, there isn't much there to write about that I wouldn't also say about the 10/6 version. Plus, there's a great YouTube video of the Manchester version, so we're gonna do that one.

I've already waxed (maybe-) eloquent about how much I love the composed part of this song, so I'll let it speak for itself. I will say that I really dig the instrumental break at 3:00, in that it's more of a full-band bridge of sorts instead of just the foundation for a guitar solo. It also gives the return to the lyrics more punch.

The chord Rick hits at 6:20 that leads the band immediately into a different key and feel is a relatively new addition to the song, but if it continues to lead to jams like this, I can't complain.

The great, two-kit drumming from the ending of the song proper continues here for a bit, while Peter fires up the synth and Rick switches to a more distorted tone. I love pretty much everything this band does (if you didn't pick up on that already), but this minor-key "dark" or "evil" stuff is often my favorite for whatever reason, and that's the direction most recent "EMG" jams have gone. This one is no exception. I really dig Rick's almost-but-not-quite bluesy playing here in particular. This part of the jam is almost Floyd-like an its ambiance.

Things quiet down a little and get more contemplative at 8:30, and Peter's bassy piano playing cuts through the mix a bit more. Rick briefly plays a descending riff at 8:53 that reminds me a ton of Trey, but quickly abandons it for some other ideas.

The jam picks up some more momentum and heads in a less-evil-more-rock direction starting around the 10:00 mark. It's a bit sad to write this now not knowing if Goose will have a second drummer in the future and if so, who it will be, but Ben and Jeff together really drive this part of the jam for me. Their interlocking playing makes the foundation everyone else is playing over much more powerful and evocative than either would be on their own.

Though this section of the jam is really a team effort, there are a few points where Rick comes up with a melodic section that is just bonkers. If I had one complaint about this part, it would be that Peter's playing on the piano gets a bit buried in the mix.

Rick starts to really pick up a head of steam around the 14:00 mark, and proceeds to fully freak out for the next few minutes. While this section isn't quite as cooperative as some of the other jams I've highlighted recently, Rick's playing here is so good it's great to just hear him rip it through to the end of the song.

At 17:22, we transition back into the composed song's key, and there's a (little) bit more jamming before Ben switches up the beat at 18:10 and the song wraps up.

This jam might be a bit less multi-dimensional than others that I've covered lately, but I've really enjoyed listening to "Everything Must Go" as it evolves, and the band's recent dedication to building it into some interesting, minor-key jams has been really fun to watch.

Next time, I'm going to cover what might be my favorite moment of the entire Euro tour (don't make me choose!), which is also from the Manchester show: "I Would Die 4 U" > "Thatch."

Prince! More "Thatch"!

Should be fun.

[bjerregaardtalley5]

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[agent-barnes40]

Oof angsty times with 11

LEFT/ Installment of Betrayal

The Doctor forgot someone in the past. Missy doesn’t take shit from him

@asacolyte

The Doctor did his normal count. Rory, Amy, River, Missy. Wait, no, River’s dead and so was Amy and Rory.

Clara and Missy! Ah that’s right! He only counted Clara and assumed Missy was already in The Tardis. The Tardis really really tried telling him he had forgotten someone back in Yorkshire.

He dropped Clara off and saw a very angry Missy walking out of the house in their Victorian dress, right after Sweetville. “Why are you still wearing that?”

Missy growled. “You forgot me!”

“What? No I didn’t!” The Doctor said, snapping his fingers to reopen The Tardis doors so the two could go in and Missy quickly snapped their fingers, a very familiar glare entering their eyes, one he saw from when the older Missy visited.

“YOU LEFT ME IN SWEETVILLE!” Missy yelled, arms shooting up to show a vortex manipulator. “MADAM VASTRA HAD TO GET RIVER TO DROP THIS OFF!” Missy continued yelling, drawing back out Clara and the children.

“You left me, Doctor. And this isn’t the first time either!” Missy took a step forward poking angrily at his chest. “You left me at the lake! To watch as the only constant in my life died! You made me watch my best friend kill you! And then it didn’t happen! We remember because we’re time lords!”

The Doctor was shocked, sputtering out words and Missy clamped their hand over his mouth. “Don’t bite me, I don’t care if I’m younger than you, you listen. I don’t care if Clara is the same governess from London! Or from The Dalek prison! I can’t forgive you this time. It’s Clara this, Clara that! I remember when you dropped me off with Kate because Clara Oswin Oswald died due to The Great Intelligence! I was with her for a year! A year, while you sulked! I get that she’s your impossible girl, but I’m done.”

Angie stared as Missy went off and looked at Clara. “Is that your boyfriend’s alien daughter?”

Clara lightly jumped and looked at Angie. “No! That’s his friend. They’re still young.”

Missy turned to Angie and met her eyes, before looking at Artie. “Wanna go see space?”

The Doctor quickly stepped forward, and grabbed Missy, pulling them back. “We don’t take children with us.”

“Oh I’m sorry, you did that with me or did you forget that?” Missy snapped, before pushing aside him. “I’m getting changed, I gotta get out of this bloody corset. And I’m spending a week with Jenny, run around with Clara for awhile, I don’t care.”

[sorapricots]

My Windwheel Aster

Summary : The first time you meet him, you both accidentally meet in the heat of a fight that end too quickly for his liking that he end up challenging you in a duel. Sometimes every time he saw your favourite flower he wished you never met.

Pair : Tartaglia (Childe) x Reader

Genre : Angst

Warnings : Major character death, blood.

A/N : this is very long I don’t have any self control for the love of God. But Tartaglia is one of my favourite character in genshin (even though he rarely crit n basically always driving me nuts) and I think this kind of story kind of suit him 😊 I kind of need some feedback from you on the fighting scene since I’m still learning on writing fighting scene.. ☹

Wc :  2,4k+

Sweat dripping from your face as you throw your polearm leaving a faint cryo element behind it before you teleport behind the mitachurl to finish them. You are about to finish them before a symbol attached to their body and hydro slash finish them.

“What..?” You blinked as you watch the mitachurl turn to dust leaving some glowing dust before it disappeared to the thin air.

You tilted your head to the side as you watch an arrow flew passed your head. It could pierce your head if you didn’t move your head. Eyes moving to every direction to find the culprit who try to stab your head.

“Nice reflex. Sorry though, I thought you are another hilichrul.” A tall young man with ginger head suddenly land in front of you. You step back with your polearm pointed at him as your guts telling you he’s the one who kill the mitachurl who supposed to be your commission.

“Who are you?” you look at his a little bit dull blue eyes while still hold a grip on your polearm. He raised his eyebrows as he observed you from head to toe.

“Just a person who spend his free time roaming around.” The male answered. You huffed annoyingly before you trip him with the other end of your polearm. Make him fall on his feet. But he suddenly rolled back and take out his dual-blade like made from hydro.

“Do you mind spare some of your time with me?” he asked before he lunged towards you. You quickly dodge his blade as spikes of ice shoot up from the ground. He effortlessly dodged it.

The fight between you two went for awhile as both of you able to defense and dodge each other attack. From the bright blue sky with it’s scorching sun to purple-ish orange sky with gentle breeze passed your sweaty and tired body.

“You are strong.” You dropped on your knees as both of you decided that the match between you two is a draw. Sweat never stop dripping from your face as you try to regulate your breathing.

“You are strong too. I never found someone who can give me an equal and fair fight like you. I’m Tartaglia by the way.” He looked on your tired face as he gave his hand to you.

“I’m (y/n).” you took his hand so he can help you to stand up. But as soon as you try to stand up your feet decided to gave up almost make you fall down again. But Tartaglia’s reflex save you from the impact as he quickly pick you up bridal style.

“Where do you live?” hesitation creep into your body when he asked that question.

“Just drop me in front of the guild. I need to collect my commission rewards.” You look forward avoiding his piercing gaze. He just hummed as he start to walk to Mondstadt City.

But as you both walk passed the Windrise you saw some of the windwheel aster near the big tree. Softly you tapped Tartaglia’s shoulders. He look down to see your face.

“Let me down, please. I need to pick some of the windwheel aster.” You spoke. Tartaglia look to the windwheel aster before he carefully let you down. You slowly walk towards a small group of windwheel aster with Tartaglia’s help.

The soft breeze made the flower’s petals spin softly. You smile as you pick the flowers one by one carefully. Picture of your parents painted in your head as your heart clench. But you decided to shake it off and continue to carefully pick the flowers.

You are drowning in your picking flowers activity you didn’t realize Tartaglia watching you from behind with a soft smile on his face.

.

.

.

It’s been months since you know Tartaglia. And as the time went by both of you are getting closer and closer. At first you decided to avoid him when you know he’s the part of Fatui. But he somehow managed to prove you and your heart that he’s not a threat for you and he just want to treasure you.

Everyday without any fail he bring you windwheel aster bouquet to your door. And the bouquet itself never fail to put a smile on your face.

“Good morning, my lady.” A giggle escaped from your lips when you open your door Tartaglia greeted you with windwheel aster bouquet on his hand. You carefully take the bouquet from him and told him to get inside your house.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You catch him staring at you as you put the flowers your lover gave you to a vase. Tartaglia smile before he shake his head.

“Nothing. I just thinking how you look more beautiful the more I stare at you.” You jokingly rolled your eyes.

“You are the one that is pretty though.” You walk to him and put your arms on his shoulders as he pulled you closer and kiss your cheeks.

“Come on my lady. Let’s go do your commission for today.” He pulled you out from your house.

.

.

.

Another day was come and here you are in the wild doing your daily commission with Tartaglia helping you finished it quicker.

A heavy breath escape from your lips as you manage to finish your last commission with Tartaglia just stand beside you like it was just a small jog. You side eye him as he snorted looking at your current state.

“Let’s go back to Mondstadt shall we?” he pulled your face closer to wipe some of your sweats on your face before he started to give you small kisses all over your face.

You giggle because your skin is a little ticklish. But you never want to pull away from his touch. He rested his forehead on yours as he stared at you lovingly. You smile as you softly caressed his cheek.

“I love you. Thanks for accepting me.” Tears flooding your eyes as you softly shook your head.

The warm sunset and the breeze that blew slowly across your bodies. Goosebumps creeped on your skin as Tartaglia pull you to a long warm hug that never failed to make you feel safe. Feel like home.

“Let’s go back home now. Can I stay at your place for today?” Tartaglia look down as you rest your chin on his chest. You nodded your head.

“Yeah, sure. But let’s go to the Stormterror’s Lair first. I want to pick some of the windwheel aster flowers.” Tartaglia let out a chuckle as his hands carefully fix your messy hair that was blew by the strong wind.

“Sorry I didn’t pick you up at your house today. Something happened at my place.” You shook your head.

“No problem. I’m not THAT helpless you know. I’m an adult too. I can go finish my daily commission by myself just fine.” You let out a playful huffed. Tartaglia laugh as he pinched your cheek.

“Of course you are. I know how strong you are. Your strength is the one that make me fall for you after all. But I just don’t want anything happened to you, you know. We never know what happened after all.” A smile shown on your face as Tartaglia took your hand in his and the both of you start to walk to the Stormterror’s Lair together.

.

.

.

“So.. are you just gonna watch me pick the flowers?” you glance at your lover as he just stood behind you with his arms fold in front of his chest.

“Yeah, I mean it’s a nice view.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you slap his thigh playfully.

“Well you do you, don’t complaint to me if you start to get bored.” Tartaglia give you a simple nod before you continue to pick up some of the flowers.

A couple minutes later you heard Tartaglia let out a sigh. It’s just a simple sigh at first before it start to turn to a dramatic sigh as the time went by. He was about to say something but your hand on his cheek beat him.

“I already told you don’t complaint to me if you get bored. Go find some hilichruls to slay, I’ll be alright.” Tartaglia look at you doubtfully before his shoulders relax and he nod his head.

“Okay then. But don’t go too far. If you want to move to somewhere else you better told me, and I will come to you. Okay?” you answered him with a soft hum before he reluctantly leaving you.

You just shook your head softly as you think how worried your lover about your safety. You decided to continue your picking flowers activity anyway.

Sometimes fate decided to say the opposite of what you planning to. You are too focused picking flowers that you forgot to tell Tartaglia that is busy slaying the hilichurls you want to move to another area.

“Princess?” Tartaglia went back to the place he last saw you only to be welcomed by nothingness. His heart skipped a beat in panic as his eyes move to his surroundings.

Suddenly he heard a ruckus not far away from him. he snapped his head to the source of the voice only to see a ruin guard ready to shoot its missile to somewhere. His eyes went wide when he saw your crouching figure completely unaware with the danger behind you.

“LOVE!” You look to your side only to see Tartaglia’s panic face and you catch a bright light from your peripheral vision. Your eyes quickly move to the light source and a gasp force itself out from your throat when you see the ruin guard’s missiles hit your defenseless body.

Tartaglia quickly use his delusion to disarm the ruin guard as fast as he can before he run to you. He dropped on his knees when he see your body covered with your own blood. Tears falling from his eyes as he carefully pick up your body.

“Love?” he softly call your name. You weakly tilt your face to see your lover handsome face. You try to lift up your shaky bloodied hand to touch his cheek. He took your hand in his and put it on his cheek as he tried to savour every warmth that radiate from your weak body.

“Sorry I forgot to call you. I was too focused make this. For you.” Your other hand showed him a flower crown made from Windwheel aster. Tartaglia pull your body closer as he hold your hand that hold the crown in his.

“It’s lovely. Thank you, princess. Let’s take you back home.” Carefully and slowly he pick your body up. You chuckled a little but then coughing blood.

“Feels just like when we first time met.” You spoke slowly. Tartaglia try to keep his smile for you but his eyes can’t lie. You smile a little as your almost dull eyes stare at his glossy one.

“It’s okay to cry. As long you remember to move on after that.” Tartaglia look at you as if you are insane but say nothing.

“It’s painful. Feels cold too. Can you hold me tighter?” Tartaglia tighten his grip on your body as you nuzzled your face on his neck. Try to find each other warmth before it’s gone forever.

“See you. I love you.” Tartaglia decided to sit on the ground for awhile as he watched your eyes close and your breath become shallow and then stop. His heart was shattered to million pieces as rain start to pouring he let out a heart breaking scream as the rain start to washed away your blood.

Tartaglia rock both of your body softly as he still mourning over your lifeless body. His head spin from the crying and his body ache both from the heart break and the side effect of the delusion.

He finally calm down and smile even though his dull eyes show no emotion. He lean down to kiss your cold forehead and your lips before he stand up and continue to walk to Mondstadt City.

People are surprised when they saw him carrying your lifeless body. They thought he kill you – his lover. He didn’t care. He quickly notified Katheryne about the incident. Even though he can see hint of doubtfulness on people.

Katheryne said she’s sorry for his loss but he just shrug her off as he continue to walk to the cathedral to notified the sisters in the cathedral. He even asked Barbara to try and heal his already passed away lover. But the idol sister just shook her head softly and said sorry.

Your funeral was held, some people judge the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. Some people said they are sorry for him. Some people said nothing to him but place your favourites stuff on top of your tombstone.

People come and go, some of them just come for a quick prayer some of them stay a little bit longer. But none of them stay like Tartaglia. He stay right in front of your grave until no one come. Until night come and passed. Until the sun is up and down from the horizon.

“Mr. Childe.” Tartaglia move his gaze to the fatui agent that bow down beside him. The ginger said nothing as a que for the fatui agent to continue his words.

“Something happened in Liyue, so you were ordered to went to the Liyue as soon as you can.” Tartaglia just give the fatui agent a very subtle nod. The fatui agent quickly left him alone to enjoy his limited time with his already passed away lover.

“I.. I love you. Rest well. See you, princess.” Tartaglia hold the already dried flower crown as he left your grave.

.

.

.

“Childe where are you going?” Zhongli watch the ginger young man that invite him to have lunch together packing his belongings.

“I want to go to Mondstadt City.” Tartaglia simply answered with a soft smile on his face. A soft smile that make Zhongli taken back. A smile that even the ex – archon himself never see.

“What are you doing in there?” Zhongli asked just in case this little rascal gonna do something harm. Tartaglia let out a small laugh as he shook his hands.

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna do anything harmful. I just.. I just want to visit my Windwheel Aster that’s all. I will buy you souvenir.” Tartaglia said before he left Zhongli with his tea alone.

“Your windwheel aster?” Zhongli’s eyes went to the single windwheel aster that was laying down on top of the mora Tartaglia left for the restaurant owner.

[marvelcriminalhoe]

The Vampire Kings Religion

Soft Dark! Vampire King! Steve Rogers x Human! Religious! Reader

Chapter 7

Series Warnings: Soft dark Steve, obsessive/possessive behavior, forced marriage, talks of blood, talks of feeding, death, eventual smut, eventual kinks, +18 minors DNI, maybe a little bit of dubious consent idk yet. This will be a soft DARK story so read at your own will.

AN: I had this scheduled to post later but I’m impatient as hell and can’t do that 😂 so I’ll just post it now :)

Word Count: 1,617

Series Masterlist

Nat took you back to Steve’s chambers, well your chambers to technically, after you both had agreed on the dress. Well, Nat agreed, you just went along with what she said.

You were walking around the room, admiring all the details on the paintings that adorned the walls. Steve was truly talented, and you can tell he really enjoys painting, something you would not have thought. You are studying one of them, when hands wrap around your waist, squeezing your back to a big chest.

You gasp, making Steve chuckle in your ear as he bends down, “Sorry, little one, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You don’t believe him, but don’t say that out loud. Steve doesn't mind that you stay quite and enjoys holding you close for awhile, “Did you find your dress?”

“Nat did.” You answer him softly.

He hums, his breath ticking your neck as he speaks, “How was Layla?”

He turns you in his arms so you are standing face to face, your brows drawn down, “What do you mean?”

“Was she welcoming to you?” He asks. Though, you feel there is an underlining meaning to it. He doesn't seem to be genuinely asking.

“She—- she was fine.” You stutter.

He raises a brow at you, “You sure?”

Maybe you should tell him? Then again, is calling you a mouse really that unwelcoming? But you don’t, staying with your original answer. “Yeah.”

Steve hums again, “That’s not what Nat said.”

Of course it was a trap. And of course he would talk to Nat first. You should have just said what happened. “It’s fine, really—”

“No.” Steve interrupts you, “It’s not. You are going to be married to the King, which means you need to demand respect.”

Now, you've had a long day, and a lot has happened. You’re tired, and cranky, and really want to go back home to your little window nook and never leave. Maybe that’s why you say what you do as you pull away from him, all your anxiety and anger and resentment for the situational hand coming to the forefront of your mind, “Well I don’t want to marry you. You’re one of them. A evil, vile, monster, that thinks he can just take what he wants!”

Steve doesn't even flinch at your outburst, it’s almost like he was expecting it. A dark chuckle escapes his mouth “You done?” He stalks forward, towering over you and forcing you to stay looking at him, “I’m going to give you one chance to apologize, sweetheart.”

You don’t apologies, only continue to glare at him, chest rising and falling out of anger, or maybe it’s fear. You can’t really tell anymore. “Go to hell.” You whisper.

Steve tsk’s his tongue, amusement crossing his features, This is what the bastard wanted. “Darling,” He mutters darkly, “I’m the King of Hell.”

He grabs you, flipping you over his shoulder as he carries you to the couch. He sits, setting you down, making you lay over his legs on your stomach, your cross necklace dangling down and hitting your face as your head hangs.

“Now, I’m going to go easy on you, because I know we haven't gone over the rules.” He holds you in place as you struggle to get up, “But you did two things wrong, and I cant let that go unpunished.”

“What is wrong with you!?” You screech at him.

He laughs again, hard and sinister like, “Well, right now, it’s you being an ungrateful brat.” One of his hands comes down hard against your backside, drawing a shocked and pained yelp from you. “One, for lying to me.” Another slap lands, almost in the same place as the first, making the sting worse and drawing tears to from in your eyes. “Two, for being rude, darling.” Another lands, this time on the other cheek, “Three, for being a brat.” He spanks you again, same place as the last, making you squeeze your eyes shut as a pathetic whine falls from your lips, “And one more,” He grabs your hair, pulling your head up so he can see your face, “Because I fucking can.”

Tears fall from your face, some from the pain, others from the embarrassment. He drops your head, letting it fall back down, as his hand rubs at your sore ass, soothing the area. Your dress did very little to minimize the pain of the hits, and you wouldn't be surprised if there were red marks. Once he’s content, he pulls you up, making you sit in his lap. He gently cups your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Now, I want you to thank me for going easy on you.” Your eyes widen, not believing his words, but when his stare gets more intense, you realize he is serious. “Thank you.” You whisper, voice cracking.

“Mmmm. You're welcome, little one.” He kisses your lips softly, a stark contrast to how he treated you just seconds earlier, “Next time I have to punish you like this, your dress won’t be in the way to soften the blow.”

His words sends spikes of fear through you, and you cast your eyes away from him, though you don’t try and pull away when he brings his lips back to yours, too afraid.

Steve doesn't mind that you don't truly reciprocate the kiss, doing enough for the both of you. When he’s had enough, pulling away, he rests his forehead onto yours, “We’ll go over the rules soon, so you know how to act.”

You just nod, the lump in your throat refusing to let you speak.

Steve walks you into the dinning room, pulling out a chair for you, the one that was next to his at the head of the table. Everyone else is already there, waiting. Nat smiles at you from your other side, and you do your best to send a small one back. Her husband however, doesn’t even acknowledge you, too busy talking to the dark skinned vampire beside him.

Wanda is directly across from you, sitting next to a tall man. Studying him, you see he is an elf, you make sure your eyes don’t linger too long. Next to him, you notice Layla, though, she’s looking directly down at her plate, not making eye contact with anyone.

There’s a blonde girl you don’t know beside her, who gives you an impassive look, before going back into conversation with Nat’s husband and the other vampire. Once Steve takes his seat, all the conversations stop, everyone looking to him. He introduces you by name, “My future wife.” Everyone nodding at you.

He looks over at you, “You already know Nat and Wanda.” He motions to the two woman as they both send you smiles. “This is Vision,” He introduces you to the man next to the witch, “He is from York, under King Tony’s rule. He travels between the kingdoms as an intermediary, so you’ll see him around quite a bit.” You nod at the man, receiving one in turn. You watch as Wanda grabs his hand, and your head tilts as you see him turn to smile at her.

Elves tended to be very stoic creatures, not usually ones to engage in affection, especially in public. And when they do engage in it, it’s almost always with another elf, very similar to how the humans stick to their own kind, elves tend to favor that ideal as well. Though, that’s not the case here.

“You’ve met Layla,” Steve skips over the girl, who doesn't even look up, moving right on to the unknown blonde next to her. She’s not human, you know that. You’ve yet to see another human in the palace besides yourself, but you can’t tell what she is. “This is Sharon, a banshee.”

You’ve never met a banshee, there weren't a lot of them around. But you do know, they aren't to be messed with and their voices aren't the only strengths they have. “Across from her is Sam, one of my main advisors.” The dark skinned vampire sends you a friendly smile and a small wave. You just nod at him. “And then theres Bucky, my right hand.” Steve nods to Nat’s husband.

“Bucky?” You ask him, you thought Nat had introduced him with another name.

“James.” Nat speaks up beside you, “But most people call him Bucky.”

You hum in response, thankful that the waiters came out with the food, laying it in front of all the non vampires. You saw they put a glass down in front of all of them, one you think was mixed with some sort of alcohol. They leisurely sipped from them while everyone else ate, conversation picking back up around the table. You kept your eyes on your plate however, staying quite.

Once all the food was done and the dishes taken away, Steve clears his throat, “I believe, before the night is over, Layla has something she wishes to say to our future Queen?”

For the first time that night, the blonde vampire looks up from the table, and you have to hold in your shocked gasp. Your eyes widen as you take in her blood shot eyes and how her face looks to be trying to heal. There was a huge cut all the way across her face, one you know had to be deep and painful. Very few things can scar vampires, and you know that, that is going to scar.

“I’m sorry for disrespecting you.” Her voice broken in a whisper. She looks back down the moment she was done talking, and you look over to Steve. He was already staring at you, watching you. When he catches your eye, he doesn't bother keeping his voice down, and no one at the table seemed surprised by his words, nor Layla’s face, “Punishments are handed when rules are broken. You’ll do good to remember that.”

It’s a warning, one you don’t take lightly, and his earlier words come back, echoing inside your head.

Darling, I’m the King of Hell.

[min-jpg]

pretty boy

Characters: Sub!Childe, Sub!Xiao x Dom GN!reader (separately)

Genre: smut/NSFW, costume play, cussing, begging, spanking, thigh riding, choking, mirror play, degradation (TW: mean asf to Childe and blood included)

Note: writing smut is so different from reading HAHSHFKFE;; since I'm still inexperienced, I decided to experiment with 2 of my favorite boys first. Enjoy!

Now playing: TENDER - Erode

---

Childe dressed in a bunny girl suit.

The upper half of his body bent over, his chest heaving on the bed. Childe's arms were bound behind him, shackled together with a handcuff.

Sitting beside him, you sneered at the sight. "Sticking your ass up like a whore. Waiting for someone to fuck you senseless?" Without warning, you swung your arm in wide motion and connected with his ass to spank him. Childe's body jolted from the impact, erupting a heavy moan as well. His bottom half shivering, as if he was wagging his cute little bunny tail that was attached to the costume.

"You liked that? Looking like a bitch in a heat." Smacking him numerous times earned more lewd noises from him.

Childe's breathing labored as he glanced at you. He beseeched with his gaze, waiting in anticipation. He rubbed his thighs together in a hasty manner to augment friction between his pantyhose and erected manhood. "M-more."

You smirked at the bewitched state he got himself into just by your spanks. Feigning a dull expression, "More? Why don't you do something about it yourself?"

Childe gradually stood up, his desperation burgeoning every second. With an ungainly movement, he mounted himself on your thigh. As his length came in contact with your lap, Childe let out another cry.

"I didn't even touch you, slut." You chuckled as you observed him straddling on your thigh. Though, his advance was far from being graceful since he had his hands restrained. You still considered it adorable of him to take the initiative.

Like a rabbit in their heat cycle, Childe rubbed his dick against your skin. His hips bounced back and forth, each stroke bestowing surges of pleasure throughout his body. Mouth agape, Childe does not shy away when it comes to expressing his moans.

You felt chills traversing down your spine as you watch him fuck your lap, his thighs clamping onto yours as if clinging onto dear life. There was something so exhilarating about seeing Childe so fixated on one of your mere body parts. He was eagerly using your thigh as an object to appease his sexual urges.

As his limbs grew restless, Childe lost his balance with nothing to grab. To secure him in place, you rested your hands on the sides of his waist.

You pressed down, causing his cock to burrow further into your skin. Startled by the development in pleasure, his head flew back as he groaned, back arching. Childe maintained his pace as he vigorously grinds against your lap. You assaulted his bared neck with a relentless bite, welcoming every vibration palpitating through his throat coming from his lascivious moans.

Blood trickled down from where you nibbled him, tasting iron in your mouth. Your chest reverberated a dark chuckle when you pulled away to relish the mark you left on the body that tacitly belonged to you.

Tracing the mark with your thumb, Childe eventually lowered his head. Those lustful eyes met yours. You shot back a glare, "Did I ask you to look at me?" Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you forcefully tugged his head back, drawing an alarming yelp from him. "Keep that little head of yours concentrated on grinding, hmm?"

"Y-yes... I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Childe gasped out. You ignored his pleas and resumed to persistently gnawing his neck at various spots.

As you covered his pale neck with bruises, Childe's pitch grew higher. The urgency in his vehement thrusts motioned he was approaching orgasm, "Gonna come!"

Your fingers laced around his neck, "Who said you could?" Tightening your grip, Childe began to choke as his air passage was slowly shrinking.

As his eyes rolled back, Childe continuously beg in between his weeps, "Please let me come! I want to come, so badly! Please, I've been a good boy."

"You're such a dirty whore for me." You grasped a steady grip on his ass and fondled with it, "Hurry up, before I change my mind."

Childe humped harshly against your skin, "Thank you, thank you so much." Even you could feel the severe abrasion forming on your thigh from his efforts.

Achieving orgasm, a puddle formed in between his legs which finally caused him to slow down. His essence oozed under the costume. Childe collapsed forward, forehead resting on your shoulder as he panted, sweat dripping down. He carried on with perpetual murmuring words of gratitude, as if in a trance.

"You dirty, pretty thing."

Xiao dressed in a maid outfit.

His attractive slim neck was embellished with a jade green ribbon that coordinated with the highlight on his hair. Standing in front of a full-length mirror, Xiao shyly concealed his gaze by peering down. He kept his hands occupied by fiddling with the frills from the dress.

You stood beside Xiao as you admired how fitting he looked in that costume, "Lift the dress up." Your voice firm. It was an order, not a request.

Xiao quietly complied with your words, picking up the one side of the hem.

"Do it properly." Your tone grew stern, making Xiao whimper silently to himself and pulled up the dress completely to expose what lies under.

You hummed pleasantly, "So you even wore lace underwear? What a slut." Shuddering him to the core with your mild degradation, it manifested a tent beneath the white underwear.

A frigid breeze made its way through the aperture in his thighs that were exposed, causing Xiao to squeeze them shut. The weights on his legs that wore knee-high stockings shifted from one to another. You leisurely walked behind him, resting your chest on his back.

Your arms snaked around him, enough to make Xiao aroused as he felt sparks from your sensual touch. Burying your head in his shoulder, you immersed yourself in his scent. Your breath tickled his skin, inflicting lust in Xiao even further.

"You're so pretty, such a good boy for me." Muttering praises to make up for your mean bearings earlier, your hands explored his heated body in the process. Viewing the mirror, a damp spot surfaced on his underwear. It was a living exhibit of how turned on he was. Reaching the bottom where his member lies, you slipped your hand into the underwear, earning a yelp from Xiao.

Your fingers danced on his already wet tip, an attempt to provoke him further. Your touch was intentionally brief, never staying too long. His tip never failed to twitch cutely to seize your attention. Xiao desperately thrusts his hips forward, seeking to engage with your hand.

"Impatient? Then beg for it." You whispered into his ear, watching him succumb to your handlings. Raising his head by tilting his chin with your other hand, Xiao's shriveled pupils met your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. His flushed face was accompanied by eyes brimming with tears threatening to spill out.

"P-please... please make me feel good. Please, please, please!" Chant of pleas cascaded from Xiao's lips, his voice quivering. It was almost impossible to resist consuming him whole right on the spot.

"So cute..." You kissed his hair. Seeing how hard he tried, you ought to show some leniency. "Keep holding the dress up for me." Pulling down his underwear, you instantly switched the gear. You worked on stroking his length in a calculated rhythm. Xiao gasped as his knees buckled and his entire body convulsed. You felt his cock pulsating around your palm, signifying how much he craved and depended on your touch alone to send him to his climax.

Xiao mewled and leaned forward. His trembling legs could no longer support him. You took note of this and hoisted him up with a tight embrace around his waist, meanwhile hastening your pace around his stimulated cock. You made sure to also rub the head with your thumb once in awhile.

Succeeding sweet moans coming from Xiao saturated the room as he fits in your name in between, "I'm going, to.. c-come." He formed incoherent sentences in the nigh of his sexual gratification. Xiao instinctively grabbed your arm and let go of the hem. Distressed to hold onto something as pleasure throbbed throughout his body, his nails dug into your skin.

"Going to come for me like a good boy?" You kissed the nape of his neck. He nodded fervently, hips once again jerking forward as he shot strings of cum, permitting one final deep moan in the process. The white substance splattered against the mirror. His moan transitioned to series of pants as he drooled, body slumping, and eventually went numb.

"Look at how beautiful you are."

[sunder-soul]

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy  💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

[ginnyweatherby]

Prompt! :D Canon Agustín meeting the early development one who yk grew his mustache through force of will?

First of all, I apologize that this took so long to get out, and even more sorry that it's so bad. The pacing is totally wacky, but there's some cute scenes in here that hopefully make up for it.

Word Count: about 1600.

*****

"Papi, Papi, Papi,"  Luisa tugged on Agustín's shirt-sleeve, the girl staring at her father with wide eyes.

"Yes?"  Agustín trilled, as he adjusted little Mirabel in his arms.

"There's a man in the Encanto!  A new man!"  Luisa's eyes were shimmering with excitement, it wasn't often that their tiny town got visitors.

In fact, Agustín couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anyone new in town.  It occurred to him that he himself may have been the last newcomer.

"Well, let's go greet him, shall we?"  Agustín hiked Mirabel a little higher up his hip, grabbing Luisa's hand.  "We wouldn't want to appear unneighborly!"

The trio walked out front doors, Casita waving its shutters as they passed through.

"Now, where did you see this man, hmm?"

Luisa tugged on his hand, nodding straight ahead.  "In the square, come on!"

Agustín couldn't help but chuckle at his daughter's enthusiasm.  The nine-year-old was constantly on the move, always asking if she could help someone, or if anyone needed something.  She was her mother's daughter, it seemed.

"There!"  She stopped short, nearly causing Agustín to trip over her.  He fumbled on his feet, trying to avoid both crashing into her, and from dropping Mirabel.

Luisa pointed her finger forward rather tactlessly.  "Over there!"

Agustín followed her gaze, and indeed saw something that caught his eye.

Or rather, someone.

"Hello there!"  Agustín called, waving a hand at the stranger.

The man was shorter than he, with a round face, a squat frame and a… rather impressive mustache, if he did say so himself.  It had taken Agustín months just to grow his pencil thin one.

"Hello there,"  The man echoed jovially.

"I hear you're new in town,"  Agustín said, squeezing Luisa's hand, encouraging her to stay put as she fidgeted.  "Welcome to our Encanto.  It's a pretty special place, you know."

"Oh, so I've heard,"  The man said, rocking on his heels, his hands held behind his back.  "Word travels fast around here."

"That it does,"  Agustín chuckled good-naturedly.  "What brings you here, we don't get too many newcomers."

"I move around a lot,"  The man said offhandedly.  "But I was taken by this little place.  Seems like a good spot to build my new house and finally settle down."

"As good as any,"  Agustín said, before lightly smacking his forehead.  "Where are my manners?  I'm Agustín Madrigal, and these are my daughters, Luisa and Mirabel."

Luisa seemed to be hit with a sudden burst of shyness, as she hid behind her father's legs, peeking around to watch the stranger.

"Small world, my name is Agustín as well!"  The man let out a hearty laugh.

"I suppose it will be easy to remember, then!" 

They continued to laugh and chat for awhile, long enough for the girls to grow bored, as they sat at their father's feet, drawing pictures with sticks in the dirt.

They were interrupted however, when Mirabel tugged at his leg.

Agustín looked down at her.  "What is it?"

"Can we go hoooome?"  She whined, raising her arms above her head, indicating she wanted to be picked up.

He checked his watch, and nodded.

"I'm afraid I'll have to cut our meeting here short,"  He said, as he lifted her into his arms.  "It's someone's naptime."

"It was nice to meet you, all three of you."

Agustín could have sworn he saw the man's eyes dart over his head, and an uneasy expression flit across his features.  He was about to ask what was wrong, but as soon as the expression had appeared, it was gone.

"Well, see you around, I suppose!"  The man said, waving at Mirabel, who had her thumb stuck in her mouth.

Agustín left with a quick nod, Mirabel's head tucked securely between his shoulder and chin, her eyes growing heavy, as Luisa trailed just behind.

He tried to shake the feeling, but Agustín couldn't seem to get the man's spooked expression out of his mind.

-

Over the course of the next few weeks, Agustín kept an eye on the newcomer.  Something about him was odd.

… And that was coming from him.

While the Encanto was a very tight-knit village, the new man never seemed to join in on any festivities.  He stayed tucked away in his own space, and Agustín watched as his house expanded, a little more each day.

But when he was to be seen, he always looked a bit put out.  Frequently looking over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for something… or someone?

"Have you met the man in that new house yet?"  Agustín asked his wife one night as he helped her with the dishes.

"Hmm?  No, but I've seen him around,"  Julieta said.

"The girls and I met him in the town square awhile back,"  Agustín mused, using a dishcloth to dry a mug.  "He seems nice enough, but something about him is… strange."

He peered out the window.  The sky was dark, but he could just make out the silhouette of the man's new house.

"You're the only strange one here, you know."  Julieta pulled the drain to the sink, watching as the sudsy water swirled away.  "I'm sure he's just easing his way in.  You know better than anyone how overwhelming it can be as an outsider."

"I never meant to stay, you know."  Agustín leaned down and brushed his nose against hers, receiving a smile in return.  "Something just seems to keep pulling me back."

"Yes, and they call you Papi."

As if on cue, Mirabel came dashing in the room, Luisa hot on her trail.  They were laughing, probably playing a game of some sort, so Agustín didn't feel the need to intervene.

Julieta laughed as they circled his legs, causing him to teeter off-balance, falling to the floor with a solid thud.

"Careful, you two,"  Julieta warned, as they weaved their way around the table, and back out the kitchen door.

"They may keep me in town,"  Agustín groaned, as his wife held out her hand to help him up.  "But they certainly don't keep me upright."

-

It was about a month before Agustín met the man in person again.  He was outside his house, tending to his flowers.

"Hello neighbor,"  Agustín greeted politely.

The man startled, before standing and stretching out his back.  "Ah, it's you."

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, no, I'm glad you're here,"  The other man said, waving his hand.  "I wanted the chance to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"  Agustín echoed, confusion written on his brow.  "Already?  But you've just built this beautiful home!"

"Yes,"  The man scratched the back of his head.  "A fine house indeed, but not a home, exactly."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's nothing to do with you, of course.  It's that… that woman."

Agustín's brow furrowed further.  "Which woman?"

"The short one.  Wears black mostly, gray hair, pointy nose."

Now Agustín was truly baffled.  He knew everyone in town on a first-name basis, and no one fit that description.

"She was the one who told me not to build my house here,"  The man continued.  "I ignored her, but she kept… coming back.  Making comments about how I was making a mistake.  That I wasn't welcome.  It's very disconcerting, to be honest with you."

"I'd imagine so,"  Agustín said awkwardly.  Whoever this woman was, she certainly didn't sound like someone he wanted to associate with anytime soon.

"Well, no matter, I suppose,"  The man said.  "As I'll be out within the week."

Agustín opened his mouth to say goodbye, but once again he saw that the man was no longer looking at him, but past him, somewhere over his shoulder.

He spun around on his heel, just in time to see her.  Short.  Silver hair.  Pointed nose.  That had to be her.

He bid his new friend goodbye, well wishes of safe travels on his lips, before marching over to confront the woman.

"What is going on here?"  He demanded.  It wasn't often that he got testy with strangers, but if someone was scaring people away from the Encanto, he needed to say something.  "What do you have against that man?"

The woman's smile faltered, giving him a nonchalant shrug.

"If you're going to keep scaring off people from town, I'll have you know that it won't be toler…"

Agustín was about to continue when he saw a flash in the woman's eye.  A familiar flash that would have been overlooked by the average person.  He sighed, as he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"I know it's you, Camilo."

The woman glanced over to make sure the other man wasn't looking, before letting out a sigh of their own, and shifting back to Agustín's young nephew.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"  Agustín knelt to the boy's height.  "You can't go scaring people like that, you really frightened him."

Camilo dragged his toe back and forth through the dirt.

"Camilo, please answer me."  He gently lifted the boy's chin to look at him.  His voice was soft, but stern enough that the five-year-old got the hint.

"His name was Agustín."  He said softly.

"Pardon me?"

"His name was Agustín!"  Camilo said, louder this time.  "But that's your name, Tío!"

"I don't understand."

Camilo didn't look him in the eye.  "I just… didn't want it to get confusing, is all... or for him to try and replace you."

Agustín rolled his eyes.  He knew better than to try and argue with the logic of a child.  Sometimes it was better just to go with it.

"As much as I appreciate it,"  Agustín stood to his full height, lifting the boy into his arms.  "You don't need to do that.  Because no matter how many Agustíns move in, I'm still your only Tío Agustín."

He ruffled Camilo's hair playfully, and smiled when the boy's laughter rang cheerfully through the air.