#Solace Petrichor

[uhohitsdorian]

Assembled cast line-up version 3! I didn’t anticipate this becoming a (near-) complete redraw that took me nearly a year to the day, but I think it looks so much better for it. The page about them over on @magic-mitchell has been updated with the new faces and recent info too!

Image description under the cut, since it’s a very long one!

[Image: a digital drawing of the artist’s main D&D characters, both PCs and NPCs, in a simplified style, in front of a striped background with character-corresponding colours. From left to right: Anser, a drow rogue, holds her mask in one hand and glances over her shoulder toward the others, her body turned away. She is very short and lean, with a few sparse, white freckles, and wears a black assassin’s uniform. Heaven, a tiefling-vampire sorcerer, looks haughtily and playfully down at the viewer, wielding her glass stave. She is tall, with ice-blue skin, long, dark hair adorned in an elaborate headdress, and wears a long, pristinely white gown. Crocus, a drow-tiefling blood hunter, kneels in front of Heaven, on guard, weapons drawn to defend her. Her face is nigh-on shredded with scars, and she has one prosthetic, brass-coloured eye. She wears a uniform highly reminiscient of Anser’s, though more brightly coloured, with wine-red leather plates and gold accents to match the crocus flowers in her hair. Opportunity, a wood elf rogue (both dubious descriptors), stands in profile, caught mid-purposeful stride, examining a revolver in his hands from under his signature magpie-skull mask. He has a waifish figure, with long hair drawn back in a high ponytail that appears to have faint stars visible in its sheer darkness, and wears a rich, pine-green tailcoat. Providence, an orc-scourge aasimar barbarian, stands back to back with him, gazing upwards at a small moon that floats in her hands. She is tall, fat and strong, with dark blue skin covered in delicate markings and hair made of swirling storm clouds, and wears a short, mint-green dress covered in flowers. Solace, a drow bard, looks upward with anticipation, a spell swirling at his fingertips, and a troubled expression on his few unobscured features. He is tiny, covered in white freckles, with lowered ears and a mop of choppy hair that hides most of his face. He wears a navy-blue cape coat and a matching peaked cap, supporting his gaunt frame on a gnarled wooden cane in one hand, with his familiar, a copperhead snake, draped over his shoulders. Mitchell, a drow wizard, stands front and centre, holding a spyglass in one hand and his wand in the other. He is also tiny and covered in white freckles, with hair tied into a braid over one shoulder, and wears a robe that fades from teal to dark blue, over a maroon shirt. His familiar, a pipistrelle bat, hovers above him, and he looks upward with an expression of anxious, hesitant hope. Cato, a drow warlock, folds his arms and looks down toward where his sister is petting his familiar: a fluffy, blue-pointed cat. He has very curly white hair shaved short on one side and huge hoop earrings, and wears a dark, intricately-patterned ensemble that complements his chubby figure. Malcice, a drow rogue, is knelt down to pet her brother’s cat (who very much seems to be enjoying the attention) with a wide smile. She wears leather armour and small, round pince-nez glasses, and her impressively long white hair is box-braided and pulled into a loose ponytail behind her. Maxim, a “human” paladin (deeply unconvincing), stands with his longsword in one hand and whip in the other. He is very tall, and wears a heavy black hood, through the slits in which emerge an impressive pair of curling horns, with heavy gloves, a chainmaille shirt, and assorted pieces of metal plate. His face is covered by a very ornate helmet, which is ivory-coloured and painted in blue with delicate plantlife and birds. His legs have short auburn fur and cloven hooves, and a matching, tufted tail swings behind him. Ferrindale, a half-elf/half-gnome bard, is posed grinning, apparently shredding on a small, stringed instrument. They are very, very small, and have bleach-blond hair with brown roots and streaks, chunky earrings, and very brightly coloured clothes. Piper, a scourge aasimar sorcerer/warlock, is ducked and ready with their meteor hammer, looking upwards as if towards some unseen opponent. Their hair is made of strands of coiled, shiny copper, styled in an undercut with a rattail, and they wear a teal vest over a dark blue jacket, with loose, patterned green trousers. Effie, a changeling fighter in guise as a tiefling, has anxiously drawn their rapier and buckler. Their body is broad and brawny, with delicate unguligrade legs and cloven hooves, and a short, tufted tail. While their clothes and armour are dyed in muted colours, their features are, from head to toe, alabaster-white, with blank eyes, a neatly curled moustache, a thick, wavy ponytail, and a single, centred spiral horn. San, a human child, stands faced away from the viewer, entirely indistinct. They wear a hooded blue cloak and carry a wooden stave with one spiral end, onto which is hooked a metal lantern that glows with a gentle, blue flame. End ID.]

#D&D #Art #Lineup #Line up #Chibi #Cast list #Anser Arabana #Heaven Le Scourge #Crocus Reckoning #Opportunity #Providence Alcmene #Solace Petrichor #Mitchell Stillbrooke #Cato Ilstard #Malcice Kenzynge #Maxim Ylhadaion #Ferrindale #Piper Copperchild #Effie Macbeth #San #ID #The Pictures of Dorian They #11.2 #2023 #Technically later because of COURSE I forgot Effie's tail and had to add it just now #It is a truth universally acknowledged that when Dorian draws a tiefling the tail will be entirely forgotten and appended later #as though I didn't get invited to enough children's parties in my youth #and am trying to heal the absence of opportunities to play pin the tail on the donkey by doing it to myself now

[slytherinslut0]

Lorenzo Berkshire- Through Rain or Shine

Info: you’d had a tough couple of weeks, and needed to find a way to relieve the numbness in your chest. when your forever friend unsurprisingly joins you, the two of you finally admit your feelings for eachother, after all those years.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: 18+, smut, fingering, kissing, themes of mild depression, praise kink, fluff, so much angst, childhood best friends to lovers trope.

In the quiet solitude of your dorm room, the weight of exhaustion pressed upon you like an invisible force, each day's relentless grind etched into the lines of weariness on your face. The past weeks had been an unyielding onslaught of books and notes, every waking moment dedicated to the pursuit of academic excellence, driven by the burning desire to excel in the impending owls exam.

The recent breakup with your boyfriend had cast a shadow over your world, pushing you deeper into the solace of your studies. Nights blurred into early mornings as you immersed yourself in the expanse of your textbooks, seeking refuge from the echoing emptiness left by the now-fractured relationship. Distractions became your lifeline, a shield against the lingering pain that clung to your chest like an unwelcome weight.

As the culmination of your efforts approached with the passing of your owls exam, a bitter relief settled in upon the conclusion. Yet, despite the temporary reprieve, the ache in your chest persisted, an unyielding rock crushing against your lungs. Caffeine and sleep proved futile against the overwhelming exhaustion that permeated your mind and soul.

And on yet another seemingly mundane night, a symphony of raindrops assaulted your window with an angry rhythm, a stormy punctuation to the warm spring night. Beneath the cocoon of your sheets, you lay motionless, your gaze fixated on the rivulets tracing their path down the glass. Restlessness plagued your every toss and turn, a sleep-deprived mind refusing the solace of slumber.

And as hour after hour passed in the hushed corridors of Gryffindor Tower, you succumbed to a rebellious impulse, heedless of any potential consequences. Clad in only a pair of sleep shorts and a light long-sleeved shirt, you navigated the dimly lit common room, driven by a compulsion to escape, to just fucking break free for once. Troublesome thoughts of repercussions faded in the face of your overwhelming apathy, truly not giving one single fuck about what could, or would happen to you if you were to get caught.

The damp corridor led you to the entrance of the courtyard, where the angry rain battered against the aged stones. A deep breath filled your lungs with the crisp scent of the tempestuous storm, and as you stepped into the downpour, an electric warmth surged through your drenched body. The hard curtain of water enveloped you, washing away the numbness and invigorating your senses, a desperate attempt to feel something--anything--other than the weight of your weary existence.

In another brief stretch of madness, you descended, lowering yourself against the soaked, weathered stones beneath your feet. As your back connected, you felt the tension instantly leave your bones, a shiver dancing along your spine, a stark contrast to the warmth pulsating within. The rain continued its unrestrained assault, a cacophony of droplets drumming against your body and soaking you to the bone.

With each breath, the scent of petrichor mingled with the raw, earthy aroma of the surrounding flora. Your clothes clung to your body, a second skin saturated by the unrelenting downpour. The waterlogged fabric, though chilling, brought a visceral reminder of your exhilarated presence in this moment--a stark departure from the numbness that had gripped you for the last few weeks.

In the embrace of the storm, time lost its linear structure, and the weight of your weary existence momentarily dissolved. The courtyard became a sanctuary, a refuge where the boundary between self and nature blurred, and for a fleeting moment, you existed in a space beyond the confines of your troubles, surrendering to the elemental dance of rain and stone.

Until, suddenly, the ephemeral sanctuary of rain-soaked contemplation shattered abruptly as someone leaned over you, disrupting the elemental dance against your skin. Startled, you opened your eyes, squinting against the mingling rain and the sudden intrusion of the night. There, peering down at you with a mixture of concern and confusion, was Lorenzo Berkshire, your damn-near lifelong bestfriend.

His worried expression cut through the remnants of your momentary escape, and reality crashed back with a jolt. The rhythmic percussion of rain against stone now seemed distant, replaced by the urgency in Lorenzo's eyes.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing out here?" His voice pierced through the storm, the concern in his tone palpable. "You're going to catch a bloody cold."

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as annoyance rolled through you. The boundary between self and the outside world reasserted itself, and the refuge you'd found in the solitude had now entirely slipped away, all thanks to the presence of your wonderful, but admittedly infuriating bestfriend.

"Enz, for the love of all things magical..." you grumbled, stubbornly keeping your eyes shut against both rain and scrutiny. "Can't I just have a moment alone? Please, just let me be."

"I can't just leave you out here, especially when you're practically bathing in the bloody storm." Lorenzo's concern lingered in the air as he shook his head, raindrops scattering from the movement. "Come on...let's get you inside before you turn into a drowned owl."

You stubbornly shook your own head, now--your rain-soaked hair clinging to your face as a testament to your unwillingness to yield.

"Enzo, I need this..." you muttered, not ready to abandon the calm you had just found, only moments earlier. "Just-just give me a bit longer, please?"

Ignoring Lorenzo's outstretched hand, you clung to the puddled, uneven stones beneath you, a silent plea for solitude amidst the storm. At your denial, your best friends frown deepened, lines of worry etching across his forehead as he observed your silent resistance. The genuine concern in his eyes betrayed an understanding that surpassed mere words.

He knew you--knew the intricacies of your soul since the days when stumbling was a more common occurrence than walking. He knew this was not like you.

He crouched down beside you, raindrops creating a haphazard pattern on his shoulders. The bond between you two transcended the need for spoken explanations. As he rested a hand on your shoulder, a comforting weight that spoke of shared history, he sighed.

"You've weathered storms before, but this...it's different. You're different." His voice was soft, gentle, barely audible over the sound of rain slamming the stone next to your head. "I'm worried about you."

"I know, Enz," you admitted, almost reluctantly. Opening your eyes, you met his gaze, and in that moment, vulnerability hung in the air. "It's just...everything--the exams, the breakup...I needed a moment to drown it all out, but it seems the storm found me first."

Enzo's hand on your shoulder tightened slightly, a wordless reassurance that spoke volumes. Together, in that shared silence, you both acknowledged the profound truth--you weren't facing the storm alone. He'd simply never allow it. And then, without uttering a single word, Enzo lowered himself to the rain-soaked stones, settling beside you with a quiet understanding. The haphazard patterns of raindrops now painted both of your figures entirely, a shared canvas in the midst of the storm.

In the hushed ambiance of the stormy courtyard, shielded behind bushes and flowers, you shifted your gaze toward Enzo, silently appreciating the allure of his rain-soaked features. Long lashes, adorned with raindrops, sparkled like morning dew, tracing a delicate path along his rosy cheeks. There was a captivating ease in the way he simply basked in the warm rain, his handsome features unburdened as though he was simply reclining in the luxury of his bed.

Enzo had always embodied an enduring quality, a trait that defied life's intricate twists and turns--an attribute you had always found yourself inexplicably envious of. His carefree demeanor wasn't a recklessness that jeopardized education or safety; instead, it mirrored the carelessness of a child navigating their first steps or the unburdened joy of someone soaking up the sun after a harsh winter. He moved through life with a rare freedom, an effortless lightness that resonated deep within you.

For that, you couldn't help but love him--a sentiment woven into the fabric of your bond. No matter the trials life presented or the stretches of silence between you, you unfailingly found yourselves back together. Side by side, navigating this crazy thing you called life.

"I'm here," Enzo's voice shattered the silence, a gentle reassurance that jolted you out of your contemplative trance. It dawned on you that you'd been lost in the steady gaze of his rain-kissed features. "You don't have to talk to me...but I'm here."

Your response came as a slow nod, a silent acknowledgment of his unwavering presence. The weight of his words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, a reassurance that soothed every inch of ache in your bones. It was right then, that you realized, since he'd laid down beside you, the numbness in your chest had completely fucking vanished.

Turning your attention back to the sky, you shut your eyes, embracing the rain that pelted your face. Basking in the comforting silence, you whisper, "Do you ever think about the day we met?"

Enzo's fingers brushed against yours, a tender touch that spoke volumes as he replied, "All the time."

His response stirred a warmth in your chest, a gentle flutter that resonated with the shared nostalgia. "The day at the lake?"

His low chuckle, like a melody in the rain, accompanied his words, "When you stole my toy shovel and then pushed me into the water when I tried getting it back?"

“Oh, please!” An uncontrolled giggle bubbled from your lips as you countered, "that's not at all how it went."

Enzo's eyes sparkled with amusement as he awaited your correction. "Okay, then, enlighten me. How did it really go?"

"Okay, okay, maybe it did go a bit like that..." amidst laughter, you playfully explained, "but you were the one who stole my bucket first, Enz. I had to get you back for it!"

"Fair enough, angel, I might have started it." Enzo's laughter blended with the raindrops as he conceded, "I guess I had it coming.”

Smirking, you retorted, "You've been a pain in my butt since the day we met, Enz…some things never change, do they?"

Enzo's grin widened, and he retorted, "Guilty as charged. But you love me for it, don't you?"

His eyes, filled with a mixture of mischief and affection, reflected the depth of a connection that had weathered the mischievous escapades and grown stronger with each passing storm.

"How couldn't I?" you responded with a fond smile, your gaze locking with his. "With a smirk that irresistibly charming, you make it impossible not to."

"Can't argue with that, angel," he quipped, flashing his teeth playfully. "Charm has always been my secret weapon."

As your laughter faded, a pause settled between you two. Staring at him, a flood of memories cascaded through your mind--years of friendship, shared laughter, and the occasional drunken kiss that had always lingered like a quiet undercurrent. In that moment, you couldn't deny the feelings that had grown, evolving beyond the boundaries of friendship.

The courtyard, still bathed in the rain's embrace, became a silent witness to the realization that the line you'd hesitated to cross might have finally blurred beyond recognition.

"Enz...have you ever...felt, lost?" As you blinked, you glimpsed his lips, your voice a soft murmur as it left your throat. "Like everything you thought was solid, just…crumbled away?"

"Absolutely," he confessed, a soft sigh escaping him as raindrops adorned his lashes like jewels. "It's like the ground beneath you turns into quicksand, and-"

"You're unsure of what to cling to, because it feels like..." you interrupted, your eyes locking onto his.

"....it’s all collapsing alongside you," he finished, completing your thought with a shared understanding. "Absolutely, angel...absolutely."

As you paused, eyes fixed on his features, a rush of emotions surged within you. The realization of your profound affection for this boy, the depth of his unwavering presence, and the shared history you both carried became palpable.

The weeks of self-imposed hibernation in your dorm had isolated you from the world, but here, in the midst of the storm, Enzo stood by your side. His willingness to weather the rain with you, to share the weight of your troubles, became a testament to a friendship that had transcended time and circumstance. The unspoken understanding, the shared glances, all hinted at a connection that had weathered storms of both the heart and the skies.

"Enz," you murmured, the endearment slipping from your lips like a secret shared between kindred spirits. "Thank you, for being here...it means more than you'll ever know."

"You don't have to thank me, angel," he replied, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his rain-kissed lips. "We've always been in this together...through rain or shine--it's what best friends do."

In the quietude of the rain-soaked courtyard, a charged silence hung between you and Enzo. Your heart, like a captive creature, pounded in your chest as you found solace in the shared gaze. His brown eyes, an intimate dance of vulnerability and unspoken sentiments, darted between your eyes and lips.

And then, in an unexpected surge of emotion, the two of you moved as if drawn by an invisible force--his hands found your face, a gentle reassurance, while your own hands mirrored the sentiment, delicately grasping the back of his neck as you pulled him close. Lips collided in a shared moment of exasperation, a kiss that seemed to carry the potential to mend wounds. Enzo's soft, warm lips moved with a careful precision, as though he feared shattering the fragile connection by moving too quickly or being too rough.

A sigh mingled within your shared breaths, and the emotional tide of the kiss swept over you. In the midst of the courtyard's relentless downpour, the intimacy of the moment became a sanctuary. Emotions, sought when you ventured into the rain-soaked space, surged to the surface, rendering you more alive than you had felt in fucking weeks.

Enzo, breaking the kiss with a soft, lingering reluctance, allowed his lips to trail along your jawline. A whisper of breath brushed against your skin as he confessed, his words carrying the weight of years of unspoken desire.

"I've wanted to do that for years," he admitted, the revelation settling in the damp air around you. "...for so many fucking years..."

Your response came as an instinct, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him close with a magnetic urgency.

"Me fucking too," you whispered, a fusion of emotions flooding your voice, "why did we wait so long?"

Enzo's gaze, now intensified by the admission and the proximity between you two, held a mixture of regret and longing. He nestled closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke with a sincerity that echoed through the courtyard.

"I don't know, angel," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of missed chances and unspoken confessions. "Maybe we were both waiting for the right storm to finally let it all pour out."

"Mm--pour it out for me, Enz," you whispered, your voice a gentle plea. "Tell me where you've been...tell me where your heart is..."

With a shared understanding, Enzo gently urged you to lay back, guiding you back against the cool, rain-drenched stones. He positioned himself alongside you, his head resting on your chest, the closeness of his body providing a comforting warmth against the coolness of the courtyard. One hand cradled your head while his other traced a delicate path down your stomach, igniting your skin into flames. Inhaling a sharp breath, he confessed,

"Someone once told me that it all comes down to the last person you think of at night." His fingers teasingly traced the line of your shorts as he continued, "That's where your heart is."

As his words lingered in the air, a tender smile played on your lips. Your eyes squeezed shut, encapsulating the vulnerability of the moment. Your hands found solace in his hair, fingers gently petting as you embraced the emotional tide that swept over you.

"Mm-yeah?" you murmured, finding it challenging to stay fully focused on his words as his soft teasing fingers traced along your inner thigh. "And who do you think of?"

Enzo pulled his head from your chest, meeting your eyes with an intensity that cut through the rain-soaked ambiance. His gaze held nothing but pure seriousness as he uttered, "Can I touch you, angel? Please?"

A near mewl escaped your lips, your entire body buzzing with anticipation. "Please do, Enz," you whispered, the plea carrying a mixture of desire and vulnerability. "Gods, please-"

Enzo leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss as he inched his fingers closer and closer to the edge of your shorts. As he slipped his tongue past your teeth, gentle yet urgent, you found yourself practically holding your breath in anticipation, shifting your legs wider slightly to give him better access.

Without wanting to keep you waiting for much longer, his long fingers slipped past the edge of the soaked fabric, connecting directly with your heat as you weren't wearing any panties. You moaned into his mouth and he swallowed it eagerly, his fingers wasting no time at all before beginning to rub tight circles against your clit.

Your grip on his hair tightened, your entire body quivering and squirming against his touch. You lost yourself in sensation, moaning into his mouth as he manipulated you expertly, sucking in air through his nose as he kissed you like he could devour you. The cool raindrops on your skin contrasted with the heat building in your body, and you felt as if you were about to burst with pleasure, explode with emotion.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily as he slipped a finger inside you while his thumb continued to rub against your clit. You arched your back against him, feeling every inch of his finger stretching you out as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy, whimpering as quietly as you could as the two of you blended into the darkness, curtains of rain acting as your shield.

"I think of you, angel," His lips found your neck, kissing and biting gently as he continued to work you with his fingers, building your orgasm dangerously fast. "I think of you before I sleep...I wake up and I think about you..."

Your hands shifted, fisting his shirt as you cried out in pleasure, raindrops falling around you in a steady rhythm. You could feel his lips on your neck, leaving wet kisses as he continued, "I think about kissing you good morning...I fall asleep while thinking about kissing you goodnight..."

"Oh...Enz..." the words sent a fresh surge of desire through you, and you arched your back involuntarily, trying to get closer to him. "Oh my Gods..."

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "You know I'm helplessly fucking in love with you, right?"

"Oh-fuck-" you moaned, louder than you'd expected as he increased his pace on your clit, his finger pumping in and out of you with increased intensity, sending your vision spinning. "Enzo-"

"Mhm...pretty girl..." he cooed as you tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck, and he obliged by nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "I fell in love with you back before knowing what love even was..." he placed sloppy kisses on your collarbone, nipping softly. "And I've stayed in love with you because no one...fucking no one has ever made me feel the way you do."

Moaning softly, you squirmed beneath him, unable to contain the growing intensity coursing through your body. Tears welled in your eyes, each word that escaped his lips resonating with a tidal wave of emotion, threatening to engulf you under the weight of your own heart. This overwhelming surge of happiness felt surreal, like a dream you never dared to believe could be real.

Suddenly, he slipped another finger inside you, stretching you out wider as his thumb continued twirling over your clit. You cried out in pleasure, the intensity of the sensation making your toes curl, your chest reaching for oxygen as though you’d been starved of it for years.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Enzo murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses back up to your jawline. "Does this feel good, angel?"

All you could manage was a nod; your breath was coming in short gasps as the pleasure built and built inside of you. The rain continued to fall down around you, a cooling contrast to the heat in your body, bucking your hips against his hand, becoming increasingly desperate for release.

"Good girl...so, so good..." he purred, kissing his way back up your jawline until he veered back and met your lips, pressing the plush entirety of his mouth to yours. "I continue to fall in love with you every fucking day because there's no one I could ever picture my future with, other than you..."

"Oh Gods, Enzo..." you could feel the tension building in your body, coiling tighter and tighter until you were practically vibrating with need. "I'm so fucking in love with you..."

"Mm," he purred, grazing his lips against yours. "Music to my ears, angel..."

As if sensing how close you were, he slipped a third finger inside you, his movements becoming almost frantic as he continued to rub your clit in tight, harsh circles with his thumb. Your body shook with pleasure, every nerve ending sparking with sensation as Enzo's deep brown pools drilled into yours, watching every slight ministration of your face as you teetered on the edge of pure fucking ecstasy.

"Fuck-Enz..." you moaned, grasping the soaked fabric of his shirt for dear life, squeezing it within your trembling fists. "I'm going to-"

He kissed you again, smiling against your lips. "Cum for me."

That was all you needed to hear; and with a sharp cry, you came hard, spasms of pleasure wracking your body, your vision blurring as pleasure washed over you in waves. Enzo continued to move his fingers inside of you, riding out your orgasm until you collapsed, panting and spent. In the aftermath, as you both caught your breath, the rain persisted, its cool touch soothing your heated skin. A comfortable silence enveloped you, a serene pause in the midst of the rain-soaked courtyard.

After a lingering moment, Enzo gently pulled you up to your feet. Gripping your face with a tenderness that echoed the shared vulnerability, he kissed you again.

"I'll be here for you," he murmured, his words a gentle reassurance. "When you're down, I'll hold you; when you feel like you can't get up, I'll support you. We'll navigate this at your pace, angel. There's no need to rush."

"We've been friends since we were toddlers--how much less rushing can we do?" Giggling against his mouth, you playfully teased, "I just want you, Enz. You've made all the pain in the last few weeks completely irrelevant in a span of an hour...it’s always been you.”

"Then have me, love," he cooed, his fingers entwining with yours. "Whatever you desire, it's yours."

#lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #harry potter #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #Lorenzo Berkshire smut #Enzoberkshiresmut #severus snape #tom riddle smut #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheosmut #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #tom riddle #severus smut #severus #theoriddlesmut #theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theodorenott #theodore nott #tomriddle smut #tomriddle x reader #tomriddlesmut #mattheo smut #dracomalfoy

[kickmuncher3]

Emily Axford’s PCs Ranked by How Likely They Are To Have Worn Crocs:

There was discussion on a recent short rest about which of Emily’s PCs are most likely to wear crocs, so I humbly present my findings:

1. Brenda Elizabeth: 100% canonical that she wears crocs. She is even wearing crocs in her canon artwork. God bless you Zac Oyama.

2. Tarragon Snakeroot: Also 100% canonical that she wears crocs, but the DM is being a little punk about it. Regardless of whether or not Murph thinks crocs exist in Eldermourne, if Emily says she’s wearing crocs, she’s wearing crocs.

3. Sophia Lee: A human living on present day earth. I’m certain she’s worn crocs around her place on Staten Island.

4. Chirp Featherfowl: Lives in the Feywild, but has a wife and child on present day earth. Has definitely tried on her wife’s crocs. Loves the novelty of them.

5. Ylfa Snorgelsson: Same voice as Brenda Elizabeth, so she’s already croc-coded. Plus, due to multiversal shenanigans, it’s almost guaranteed that there exists a version of her who’s worn crocs.

6. Onyx Lumiere: I don’t remember if crocs have been confirmed as canon in Trinyvale, but they definitely are. If Onyx didn’t already own a pair of pastel crocs, she’s surely looted a pair from someone she’s killed.

7. Fia Boginya: Crocs are not necessarily her style, but she lives in Eldermourne, so she’s had ample opportunity to wear them.

8. Brimstone Billy: Also, lives in Eldermourne, but I’m not sure if crocs have made their way to Endoterra yet.

9. Sundry Sidney: Technically exists in our future, but crocs are probably ancient relics in her time. Even if she could get her hands on a pair, she wouldn’t be able to get them on over her permanent roller skates.

10. Fig Faeth: I’m gonna say that crocs probably exist in Solace, but Fig was too preppy to wear them as a kid and is too punk to wear them now.

11. Moonshine Cybin: I’ll throw Murph a bone and say that crocs don’t exist in Bahumia, but if they did, I bet Moonshine would wear them. If a crick elf was gonna wear shoes, they’d probably wear crocs.

12. Calliope Petrichor: Again, no crocs in Bahumia, but even extra no crocs in the Feywild. Furthermore, they aren’t really the shoes of choice for either crime families or knights. No crocs for Calli.

13. Saccharina Frostwhip: Calorum is the setting least likely to contain crocs. It’s such a classic medieval fantasy world. That said, growing up poorer than the other PCs makes Saccharina the most likely A Crown of Candy character to have worn crocs.

14. Jet Rocks: By far the least likely Axford character to have worn crocs. Spent her short life growing up royal in a lavish castle with dreams of becoming a military commander in a world where crocs absolutely do not exist in the first place. Case closed.

#emily axford #naddpod #dimension 20 #the rotating heroes podcast #fantasy high #a crown of candy #a starstruck odyssey #a court of fey and flowers #the unsleeping city #neverafter #eldermourne #bahumia #ba2mia #trinyvale #short rest

[loviatarsluv]

An Acquired Taste

“You play a twisted little game,

but I know in a way,

you need to complicate

believe that though we never eat,

we still know how to feed,

we still know how to bleed”

Astarion x AFAB female rogue tav (third person, no super descriptive features aside from hair color and body)

takes place earlier into act 1, long before the grove party (I have plans for that)

rating: VERY mature (smut incoming lets go besties!!!!!!)

CW: threats of bodily harm (eheh), lots of sexual tension, choking, fingering, oral, some light knifeplay

a/n: I’m gonna be 100% honest w u I have not written in forever so I’m admittedly very rusty, but I have not seen enough enemies to lovers with astarion and I just needed it so thus this was born ^.^

in summary: astarion and tav butt heads constantly and get into a blow up fight where they both say shit they shouldn’t, tav is overwhelmed by everything and he is not helping, so she goes to blow off some steam once they get back to camp and he, of course, petty as he is, cannot let her have a single moment of peace and follows her. she threatens to slit his throat and he gets horny. as one does 🤷‍♀️ (just like me fr)

word count: 7.6k (i'm so sorry i was possessed writing this apparently)

(I have no idea where I got this gif from if someone knows tell me and I’ll tag the op!!)

The trek back to camp is mostly silent, save for the odd comment about the weather or spew of stream of consciousness by Karlach, which provided at least a tiny bit of comic relief.

The air was thick and suffocating between the party’s leader and the vampire who just loved to piss her off - it almost always was slightly tense, but today in particular was much different than what was usual for them.

As soon as they reach the camp, the group splits, all scattering across the site to their own chosen sections of it, Astarion nonchalantly strolling off to his own tent, which just so happened to be the closest one to hers. She audibly growls in frustration, earning a few concerned stares from her companions. She can’t even find peace in her own tent.

Before any of her companions can stop her or inevitably approach her with questions about what happened between her and Astarion or unsolicited and, quite frankly, unnecessary advice, she slips off to the place that had been the one piece of solace she had been able to find as of late. The clearing in the forest near the water's edge that was just outside of camp.

The usually ataractic smell of petrichor mixed with the misty air near the running stream fill her nose as she trudges through the muddy soil, her leather and metal plated boots feeling ten stones heavier than usual. She sets her sights on a fallen tree near the water, sinking down into the dirt before it, releasing a long and deep breath that she didn’t realize she’d been holding for what felt like days.

She slowly strips off the outer layers of her lightly plated armor piece by piece, goosebumps prickling her skin with each new bit of skin exposed to the crisp evening air. She discovers a few new bruises and scrapes that hadn’t been there previously when removing certain parts of her gear had become painful, her skin tender and sore beneath it. Her entire body ached, and she was utterly sapped.

The previous few days had been more challenging than anything she’d experienced in recent history - their predicament unfolding before them all in increasingly bleak shades of stormy gray and blood red with each new bit of information they receive regarding the mystery surrounding the parasites that writhed within their skulls. She’d be lying if she said she still held the same amount of optimism toward the prospect of a cure as she had in the earlier days of their expedition. No, that was long gone.

In fact, the only emotion she seemed to feel lately was anger. Rage.

She knew that the world was going to shit prior to being abducted by the mind flayers, but she had never seen for herself how truly doomed it was the way she had since then. It was sobering, to say the least.

She never considered herself to be particularly altruistic or even virtuous by any means, having only been able to survive by picking pockets and slitting throats that stood in the way since her early teen years. She wasn’t proud of it all, and her mind was not unburdened with the guilt that came with some of it, but it was necessary at the time. It continued to be necessary, even more so now.

An image of home flashes through her mind - Baldur’s Gate. The bustling streets, the busy taverns, the upper city where she procured the majority of her coin. She chuckles to herself as she thinks of all of the nobles whose pockets she’d made lighter who were none the wiser  - hells, most of them probably never noticed as gold was never in short supply for them the way it was for the rest of the population. They were easy targets only due to their noses being so high in the air that they didn’t notice those beneath them, scrounging the streets for the crumbs they crushed beneath their perfectly polished boots.

All she had to do was bat her eyelashes, whisper the same sweet nothings that worked on every single one of them, and expertly slip her hand into their pockets while they were enchanted by her every move. It was easier than easy, it was effortless.

She almost misses it - things were simpler, then. It had all become routine after so many years of it. Of course, there was still the threat of death looming over her at every turn but at least she could put up a fight against the daggers and swords that were held to her throat - there was no fighting this. She couldn’t threaten the tadpole with knives or swords or warfare, and she certainly couldn’t fight off ceremorphosis by sheer willpower. Sure, she could cut through every goblin, drow, or cultist that dared cross her path if they didn’t offer a cure or information for a cure, but none of that mattered as the creature inside her was nothing more than a ticking time bomb. Every second that passes could be her last without tentacles and an insatiable appetite for brains, and she’d be rendered nothing more than a soulless monster, doomed to follow every command given to it by an even bigger monstrosity.

Her hope and faith in finding a solution deteriorated more and more as the days passed with no answers, no leads, the prospect of making it out on the other side of this predicament seeming ever more distant. 

She groans loudly to herself, tossing her head into her hands as she brings her knees closer to her chest, wishing she could shrink and disappear. Wishing the mud below her would form a sinkhole and just swallow her, that way it didn’t matter anymore, nothing would.

“Fuck,” She whispers through gritted teeth as she feels tears starting to well up in her eyes, much to her physical and internal protest.

In spite of her throbbing muscles and aching bones, she pushes herself up from the ground, refusing to resort to wallowing in self pity and mourning her once simple life.

But her chest feels as though it were caught in a vice, clamping down on her ribs and lungs and it felt as if she were fighting for every breath. Her fists were clenched so tightly and her nails dug into her palms so deeply that they were on the verge of drawing blood. She felt the need to scream, to cry, to break something - even though none of it would alleviate the weight that rested on her shoulders so heavily. Nothing that was within her reach could.

She felt like everything had come crashing down on her all at once and she was helpless to fight the barrage of what ifs and the potential outcomes of them flooded her mind.

Then, to top it all, her earlier argument with Astarion resurfaces in her mind.

“Apologies for not being as keen to remove the thing that has given me what I’ve been deprived of for two centuries. I’m only saying that we should—“

“So you’d trade feasting on rats in a dirty cell for feasting on brains at the command of some start-up god? You must really be desperate.”

His crimson eyes that were typically bright and playful were now dark and malignant, his jaw clenched and fangs bared. He looked as though he were about to lunge at her, before Wyll grabs him and pulls him back.

She regretted it the moment it left her lips, but she was too angry and too prideful to take it back. But he was seriously irking her - he provoked it out of her, she could hardly blame herself or feel sorry.

“What about you? Roaming the streets, scrounging through the garbage and the dirt for table scraps, stealing from nobles - you’re no better than the rats I fed on, the only difference is that the ones I fed on were more tolerable.”

It was then her turn to get pulled away, as within an instant her dagger was unsheathed and pointed in his direction. She couldn’t tell who it was that grabbed her - perhaps Gale, she thought, who was much stronger than he looked as he subdued her fairly quickly, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her backwards.

It took a lot of talking both of them down to diffuse the situation enough to safely make it back to camp in one piece, both of them too stubborn and prideful to let the matter rest until they just couldn’t stand to be near each other anymore.

His voice echoes in her head, reminding her of every person she’d ever reached out to for help in her life, degrading her to nothing more than a street rat begging for scraps. Her temper rises as she replays his words - “you’re no better than the rats I fed on” - over and over, finally tipping her over the edge. 

She retrieves her rapier from the heap she’d discarded her armor and clothes in, rushes toward a large oak tree, swinging it into the trunk over and over until there’s large slashes in the trunk, the bark flying in shards and bits.

She steps back, breath ragged and heavy, eyes burning with tears that she refused to shed, especially over him and his damned opinion.

She's too enthralled in her own outburst to notice the footsteps approaching in the forest behind her.

“And what exactly did that tree do to deserve your wrath?” Astarion taunts, slowly stalking up behind her.

She doesn’t turn to face him, nor does she acknowledge him at all, tossing her weapon to the ground and walking back toward the stream.

“Tsk, I’m getting the silent treatment now? No scathing insults or cruel comments regarding my past?” He continues to prod, following a few steps behind her.

“Fuck. Off.” She growls through gritted teeth.

He chuckles, the sound bitter and disingenuous, goading.

“Oh, darling. You couldn’t possibly think that we wouldn’t have to kiss and make up after our little spat earlier. We’re stuck with each other in this sordid endeavor, after all.”

Her knuckles have gone white with the force of her clutching onto the fabric of her undershirt that she’d thankfully left on, on the off chance one of her companions came to check on her. Much to her dismay, of course it was the one companion she wished she had never laid eyes on to begin with.

“I’d rather kiss a leech, darling,” she spits, her tone coated in vitriol. “I have nothing more to say to you, unless you’d like me to return the favor of holding a dagger to your throat.”

When they’d met outside the nautiloid crash, and the elf held her at knifepoint demanding information, assuming she was a thrall or working with the mind flayers, she thought perhaps they would get along. She immediately recognized him as a kindred spirit as she knew that she would’ve done the same in his shoes, hells, she was even attracted to him. 

Oh, how wrong she’d been.

Well, not about the attraction. That, unfortunately, did not dissipate.

If anything, it only made her hate him more.

He almost cackles, stalking in ever closer, closing the gap between them step by step. She resists the urge to step backwards to increase the distance between them once again, and stays planted in place out of spite, digging her heels into the dirt for extra support. 

“I think there’s a lot that we both want to say and do to each other - the question is who’ll be the first to act.” His voice is equal parts threatening and sultry - something only he did so well.

He could make you loathe him and lust him in one fell swoop with ease. It was one of his biggest strengths, and a large reason why she hadn’t told him to piss off and find another group to leech off of. He was useful in and out of battle, much to her dismay. 

“The only thing I want to do with you at this very moment is throw your pasty ass in the river and hope that you’ve forgotten how to swim.” She spat.

He continues to stalk closer, their bodies now less than a foot apart.

“You’re stubborn. I like that about you. You don’t accept defeat easily, even when it’s knocking at your door. It’s quite admirable, really,” he pauses to lean forward, lowering his face so they’re eye to eye.

“Admit it, dear, you’ve met your match with me.” He grins a devilish grin that she wants to slap off of his pretty mouth. If he were any closer, she might have.

“This isn’t a competition. I want to be rid of this damned thing and you want to step in the way of my and everyone else’s survival at every turn just for your own selfish sake!” She seethes, her voice raising and echoing through the woods.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act as though you give the slightest bit of a damn about anyone’s survival but your own, altruism isn’t a good look on you, pet. You and I are cut from the same cloth, whether you want to admit that to yourself or not.”

Her once empty fist was now grasping the handle of her dagger that she had sheathed and strapped to her thigh, as she always did, a habit that came in handy more times than she’d like for it to.

“I am nothing like you.” Is all she manages to hiss before he finally closes the gap between them, his face merely inches from hers, basically towering over her - their stark height difference being something only he had noticed and fully planned on using to his advantage.

He feels the heat radiating off of her, and he tells himself that it’s due to more than just anger to stroke his own ego. He knew that she was attracted to him, he’d caught her eyes lingering on him when she thought he wouldn’t notice - when he’d change into his evening clothes just outside his tent, when he would traipse off into the woods to hunt at night, and in general throughout their days traveling he would catch her eyes on him, watching him. It made it all the more exciting for him, knowing that even though she despised him, she’d let him have his way with her if the opportunity arose. He was just biding his time for the right moment and preparing all the perfect words that he knew would reduce her to putty in his hands.

“Keep telling yourself that, if it’ll help you sleep peacefully at night.” He whispers, his eyes dark and hungry - she couldn’t decipher whether it was for her or her blood in one way or another.

“How can I sleep peacefully knowing there’s a bloodsucker who hates me in the next tent over from me?” She half jokes, not letting this closeness falter her composure, despite the way her heart was racing a million a minute.

He flashes that damned smirk that he does when he’s up to something, one of his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip as he does, glinting in the golden glow of the sunset. He almost looked human, in this light. His usually pallid skin is nearly lively and his crimson eyes almost appear to be a shade of dark brown instead. Although, she thinks that his eyes were probably blue, before. Not that it mattered, not that she cared.

“What makes you think that I hate you, darling?” His face flashes a feign innocent expression, in spite of his eyes still holding that same intense darkness that bordered between disdain and desire.

“I certainly don’t think that you like me, by any means. And don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”

His smirk widens into a sadistic grin, both fangs now on display.

“On the contrary, sweetness. I think we need to stop lying to each other if we’re going to continue this little adventure of ours together,” his voice is low and breathy, rumbling in his chest almost like a growl. He brings a hand up to trace the side of her jaw gently, and she flinches away.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” He continues, his once gentle caress turning into a rough and forceful grab as he forces her to look at him, his blood red eyes boring into hers.

“I only watch you because I don’t trust you. I thought that’d be pretty clear.” It was a lie. She knew it was a lie, but it was only a half lie, technically. She didn’t trust him, she hadn’t since the beginning.

He lets out another cruel laugh, and she knows that he caught on.

“Hmm. You know, I’d assume you would be a better liar - how disappointing for you, but delicious for me.”

This was the last straw for her as she promptly unsheathes the dagger that her finger had been itching over since he made his unwelcome appearance into her life, pressing it to his throat, slowly pushing him backwards until his back hits the nearest tree.

His demeanor doesn’t falter for an instant, his face still twisted into that same demented sneer - the bastard was enjoying this.

The air between them was so thick it would have had to be cut with a great sword as their eye contact never breaks, neither of them intending to surrender.

“Give me one reason not to slit that pretty throat of yours.” She snarls behind gritted teeth.

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple grazing against the cool metal of her blade. He stares down at her and can’t help but admire her - eyes wild, long raven black hair uncharacteristically disheveled with some strands sticking to her forehead due to leftover dried sweat and grime, her pressed against him hard with only a flimsy shirt shielding her body from him. He doesn’t even try to hide it, letting his tongue slip out to wet his bottom lip, an undeniably lustful look in his eyes.

It takes her a moment to notice when she finally comes back to her senses after her adrenaline settles, a scowl painting across her face as the realization hits.

“You’re disgusting.” She hisses, pulling away from him, lowering her blade.

Despite her words, the way he was looking at her sparked something in her - something she had done so well to disregard and push down up to this point, but her resolve was weakening under his gaze.

He doesn’t respond, eyes never leaving her as they trail up and down her body, constantly returning back to her bare legs and thighs. And from the angle she stood, with the sunset behind her, her light colored linen shirt was nearly opaque and he could see the outline of her body. He feasted his eyes on her delicate curves, the way her hips jutted out and her waist dipped in above them, her toned arms flexing, muscles clenching. She was unquestionably sexy, and his craving for her had doubled if not tripled at the sight of her in this way, even after she pressed her dagger to his neck. Hells, even then.

She starts to back up as his gaze only intensifies - hungry eyes trailing her body felt like hot coals being dragged across her skin.

Before she can make it more than a couple inches away, his hands are grasping her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh to a bruising point, pulling her back to him and flipping them so that her back is flush against the tree where his had been, effectively switching the roles and asserting his dominance over her, as he’d been dying to do for what felt like centuries.

His icy hand comes up to her throat, closing his fist around it firmly but not enough to entirely restrict her breathing and pinning her against the wood, his face now close enough to feel her hot breath against his cheeks.

The rough bark digs into her scalp and back, his fingers press into the spot just below her jaw near her pulse point. He feels her pulse thrumming rapidly against his fingertips, he can hear her heartbeat racing in her chest.

“You wound me, pet… I almost believed that one.” He purrs, his cold breath and the tone of his voice sending a chill down her spine, and an unwelcome heat through her, pooling low in her core.

With one hand still on her throat, his other hand rests on her waist before languidly roaming the parts of her body that weren’t covered by his own pressed against it.

She feels helpless under his touch, all of her previously built up walls and her icy facade start to melt beneath him, but not without her brain chiming in and reminding her who he is and how bad of an idea this was.

“Let me go.” She whispers plainly, unable to muster enough nerve to yell or scream or fight back, settling for no emotion at all.

He smirks at her, his hand advancing upwards, his fingers laving over the side of her breast, causing her nipples to harden, peaking against the soft linen fabric of her shirt.

“Is that what you really want, darling? Your body tells a different story,” he hums, his finger now grazing her nipple agonizingly gently, disrupting any thought or intention of fighting him off.

She's unable to find a word that could suffice in telling him to stop, but also dear gods please keep going. Her body was taking the reins, and she blames it on having not had any sort of intimacy since long before the nautiloid. Only to avoid the prospect that she was truly enjoying this.

Her silence doesn’t suffice, though.

He tightens his grip on her throat, pressing his index finger and thumb on either side of her jaw to direct her face so their eyes meet.

“I need you to tell me what you want, pet. I can’t do anything for you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

She bites down on her bottom lip almost hard enough to bite through, a slight metallic taste hitting her tongue. Her body was trembling with the effort it took to contain herself, to not give in to him but it was proving to be an insurmountable task. The logical side of her brain wants to say no just so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of her begging for him like he wants, but she can’t. The part of her brain that is apparently driven by the spot between her legs and the rest of her body is screaming over any logic and telling her everything she doesn’t want to hear.

“Harder.” She barely manages to choke out, her voice strained against the pressure of his hand on her throat.

He freezes, his body stilling and tensing up.

“What was that, darling? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He grits his teeth, his voice low and his mouth centimeters from her ear.

“Harder.” She says louder, placing her hand over his and pressing down.

Gods, he could’ve come undone right then and there.

Without another word, their lips collided in a frenzied and feral kiss, one that was inevitable, they both learned, judging by how effortless the kiss was - their lips melding and their tongues in sync as if they’d done it a million times before. Her fingers ran through his ivory curls, tugging at the roots and eliciting a groan from him that sent a chill up her spine.

He obliged her request, slightly closing his fist tighter around her neck, which chokes a moan out of her that he quickly swallows in another kiss. His free hand greedily continues to roam and grab at anything he can - her thighs, her ass, her breasts, her hips. He can't get enough of her, he swears even being inside her wouldn't satiate his desire for her. He wants to mark her, he wants to claim her, he wants her to be his, even if it was only for this purpose alone.

She hooks her leg around his, pulling him flush against her and feeling his hardened cock straining against his breeches as it presses to her lower stomach.

She almost gasps, disappointed but secretly pleased to discover that he was big, from what she could tell through his clothes at least.

She had hoped she could at least say he was small or that the sex sucked after it was all said and done, but she had an inkling that this was just yet another thing she would have to begrudgingly give him his due credit for.

He notices her reaction to the bulge in his pants, and smirks as he presses a wet kiss to her jaw, then rocks his hips forward to press himself against her even harder.

"This is your doing, you know," He breathes, a smirk evident in his voice.

Annoyed by his arrogant words and gesture, she digs her nails into his shoulder, a noise that's somewhere between a moan and a frustrated growl escaping her as he continues to suck on her neck, grazing the skin with his fangs.

“I’m starting to think you like having your life threatened a little too much.” She breathes.

He chuckles, lips still hovering over hers. “Only by you, darling.”

He palms at her ass cheek roughly, surely leaving a slew of intentional bruises so that she has a reminder the next morning, then smacking it - his frigid touch adding to the sting of the rough contact.

She yelps slightly, biting her lip in an attempt to stifle any noises she may make. He shakes his head, releasing her neck and bringing his hand up to trace her lips with his fingertips.

"No, no, sweetness, I want to hear that pretty voice of yours. For now, at least." He has a look as if he was planning something that instantly set her on edge - she never knew what to expect from him, especially not in this sort of circumstance.

"You're such an ass," She grunts indignantly, before he dips a finger in between her parted lips.

Almost as if on pure instinct, she sucks on his digit, swirling her tongue and laving it in her spit. His breath hitches as he stifles a pleased groan. She smirks pridefully, his finger still in her mouth.

"And yet, here we are, darling."

In rebuttal, she bites down on his finger just enough to hurt him, which causes him to hiss in pain. He shoots her a warning glance, then relaxes when he sees the amusement on her face.

“So feisty.”

He rubs her bottom lip with a second finger, a silent plea to add another into her mouth, which she promptly obliges.

She gives the second finger the same treatment as the first, her mind running wild with images of his cock in place of his fingers, how he might taste, the way it already weeps with arousal for her - it felt so wrong, yet she couldn't seem to get enough.

He pulls his fingers out of her mouth with a pop, his crimson eyes holding hers in an intense stare as he brings his still dry hand down to hook her underwear to the side, the cool breeze hitting her drenched cunt and making her suck in a breath. He makes a show of bringing the two fingers that had just been in her mouth down to rub her soaking folds, making sure that she was watching his every move.

"Fuck, you're already so wet for me." He moans, his voice low and gravelly as he slowly begins to spread her apart, the filthy sounds of her arousal like a song to his ears.

A loud moan rips through her as she throws her head back, the slightest touch embarrassingly already almost too much. Maybe it was the anticipation, maybe it was because it'd been so long since she'd been touched like this - or maybe it was just another testament to how badly she needed him. His touch.

"Rather sensitive, aren't we, pet?" He teases, dipping his head down to place a kiss to the part of her chest that was exposed by the low neckline of her shirt.

"Shut. Up." She growls, her hand gripping the nape of his neck and pulling him closer. The rumbling of his laughter echoes in her chest as his mouth stays pressed against it.

He presses wet kisses further and further down as he slowly moves his face lower, sinking to his knees in front of her.

She can't contain the gasp that escapes her as she peers down at him - his typically pristine and well groomed silvery white curls were a disaster as a result of her hands ravaging them, his eyes were dark and lidded, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Not to mention, the satisfaction that came from him being on his knees below her, knowing what he intended to do - gods below, it was almost too much to bear.

He raises her shirt higher, holding it up between her breasts and getting just a small peek of the underside of them - the temptation to rip the wretched thing off of her and completely bare her to him crossing his mind. He decides against it, unsure if she'd want to be fully exposed in case someone decided to come check on her.

He, personally, wouldn't mind any of the others finding them this way - that way they would know that he was staking his claim on her. He was well aware that he was far from the only one in the camp that had dreamt of touching her, and he planned on being the only one who gets to.

He straightens himself up so he can trail another line of wet kisses down her abdomen, stopping just above the waistband of her underwear. His eyes flick back up to hers, finding that she had been watching his every move - satisfied with how quickly she catches on to his desires, as if it were natural to her.

He hooks two fingers beneath the fabric on each of her hips, waiting for her to protest. She doesn't, instead she reaches her hand down and attempts to pull them down herself. He grabs her wrist, stopping her.

"Ah ah, allow me." He commands, his voice equal parts soothing and threatening. She drops her hand back to her side. "Good girl."

He rips the fabric down her legs, letting it pool at her ankles before he hooks an arm under her thigh and lifts it so that she steps out of them. He pushes them aside, keeping her leg lifted as he pushes her night shirt out of the way once again, revealing her drenched and throbbing cunt to him, at long last.

He practically salivates at the sight, his eyes burning trails all around it as he drinks in every inch of her newly exposed flesh. This causes her to blush for the first time during this encounter, suddenly feeling self conscious about her most intimate area. She feels the urge to cover herself, her leg instinctively moving to clench against the other. He stops her quickly, pressing her leg up even higher, stretching her already sore thigh muscles.

"Absolutely perfect. To think you’ve been keeping this all to yourself." He coos, his voice now softer, reverent, even. As if he were quietly admiring the finely crafted sculpture of a goddess on display in the foyer of a tabernacle.

With her leg now draped over his shoulder, he continues his attack of wet and hungry kisses up her leg. He toys with the knife strapped to her, running a finger along the hilt of the blade, then biting the leather strap on the innermost part of her leg, his lips brushing against the skin and causing goosebumps to prickle up.

He slowly continues trailing up to the apex of her thighs, pausing at the very top of her thigh and nipping at the plush skin.

Her arousal and frustration had started to truly boil within her, him taking his damn sweet time was beginning to piss her off all over again and she knew he was doing it deliberately. He was trying all that he could to get her to beg.

"Astarion, if you don't eat me out right now, I'm going to kill you."

She wouldn't beg, no. Threatening, though? Easy.

"Patience, darling. Good things come to those who wait."

She scoffs. "I'm starting to think you're stalling. Scared that you won't be able to live up to your reputation?" She taunts in an attempt to anger him enough to finally oblige her.

His eyes narrow, his once smug face falling into a scowl.

He quickly unsheathes the knife on her thigh, grabbing it by the blade. Her eyes widened.

"What the hells are you doing?" Her voice held a bit of unease as she watched him gently tap the tip of the blade, as if he were testing the sharpness.

He grins wickedly, his eyes flicking from the dagger back up to hers. "I'm going to shut you up. Open," he commands, bringing the hilt of the dagger up to her lips.

She shoots him an uncertain look, confused. He sighs, frustrated, then presses the hilt further until her lips parted, and she took it between her teeth.

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, the golden light shifting to a cool blue glow, the reflection of the moon glinting off of the recently sharpened and polished blade. She hadn’t realized just how sharp Lae’zel made it, and having it so close to her face this way truthfully made her nervous.

A twisted part of her enjoyed it for that fact.

He looks up at her, the sight of the hilt of the dagger that she'd threatened him with only minutes prior, now held between her teeth both ironic and unequivocally erotic.

"Much better. Shall we try this again?"

Satisfied with the outcome of his bright idea and the muffled groan of frustration from the only one who’d been plaguing his thoughts when he was alone in his tent, he returns to his prior ministrations, starting his trail of kisses right back where he'd begun them just at the side of her knee.

He repeats the process identically to how he'd done it previously, except this time he bites the top of her thigh slightly harder, eliciting a whimper from her, nearly causing the knife to slip out of her mouth.

"Careful, pet." He warns, a slight smirk playing on the corners of his lips.

With his face still right at the crest of her thigh, cool breath fanning across her burning hot flesh, he brings his even colder fingers back up to tease her folds. She jolts at the sensation, involuntarily crawling upward onto the tree, now on tiptoe with her leg that's still on the ground. He tightens his arm around her thigh, pulling it down on to his shoulder slightly as if to warn her to stay still. She obliges, flattening her foot back down and relaxing her posture as best as she can manage, the thought of making this take even longer agonizing.

His deft fingers work her slowly, touching everywhere but where she needed him most. The sounds of her slick arousal seemed much louder now that they’d both gone mostly quiet apart from their heavy breathing, and she feels that damned blush creep back up to her cheeks once again. 

She involuntarily yelps when his fingers tease her entrance, her walls instinctively clenching around nothing. She disobeys him by wriggling slightly, then realizes and quickly tries to cease her movements. He lets his thumb rest against her swollen and throbbing clit, refusing to move even an inch until she settles down.

“Look at you,” he coos. “So eager for me. I almost want to take that dagger out of your mouth and hear that sweet voice moan for me again.”

She bites down even harder into the hilt of the dagger to stifle the moan that threatens to escape her throat, certainly leaving teeth marks that she’ll have to hide in case anyone needs to borrow it later.

He chuckles, his eyes still trained on her face as he pushes ever so slightly against her entrance, his thumb pressing harder into the over-sensitive bud - savoring her every reaction to him. The way her brows knitted up, the way her glossy eyes widened, her hands clutching the fabric of her shirt and holding it close to her chest, the way the dagger shifted slightly in her mouth as her jaw clenched around it. She was a feast for his eyes and he intended to savor every bite. 

Finally, he decides to show her mercy and push his fingers further in, careful to move slowly and give her time to adjust. Her eyes blow wide and her head falls back against the tree, giving him a full view of her neck that makes his mouth water. 

Next time, he thinks to himself.

His fingers are just barely not too thick for her - the stretching only slightly uncomfortable and otherwise euphoric. He pumps in and out at a lazy pace at first, quickening over time as he feels her fully adjust after a while. She’s perfectly tight, her velvet walls clenching his fingers with every plunge into her depths. He can barely think straight, all rational thought having left him ages ago. All that he can think now is how badly he wishes it were his cock in her rather than his fingers - but as he’d told her, good things come to those who wait. 

She feels herself creeping ever closer to her peak as his movements become more and more rhythmic and deliberate, his thumb rubbing circles around her clit as his fingers piston in and out, hitting all of the right spots and driving her wild. Her body is buzzing, her legs trembling. She wants to resist how incredible this all feels, but gods, does it feel incredible. 

Everything that comes after this is a problem for later, right now, all she wants is to—

“Aah!” She yelps as he curls his fingers, the dagger slipping from her mouth and thankfully dropping to the ground beside them. 

He grins, continuing his ministrations. “Are you gonna come, pet?” 

She takes her bottom lip in between her teeth, scared to say yes in fear that he may stop and deprive her of her release just to spite her.

“Answer me.” He commands, his voice coming out as a low growl. 

She reluctantly nods.

“Use your words. Answer me.”

“Y-yes. Gods, yes. Just… don’t stop.” She whines, trying her damnedest for it not to come out as a beg, but rather a command. It was mildly successful.

To her surprise, he speeds up the pace, pumping in and out of her hard and fast - the way she so desperately craved it. She feels herself right at the edge, her orgasm impending - he can tell, as she writhes and whimpers over him. Just as he can tell she’s about to hit the peak, he stops. 

She keens at the sudden loss of friction and movement, her walls clenching down around his fingers even harder, her cunt throbbing and dripping onto his hand. 

“Why…” Is all she manages to say, her breathing ragged and her chest heaving.

“I want you to come on my mouth.” 

That alone could have sent her over the edge. 

She nods fervently, her hips bucking forward toward his face. 

He considers punishing her for being too hasty and too eager, but he couldn’t care less any more to keep up the game - he needs to taste her. He needs to devour her. 

He moves his thumb, making way for his tongue to replace it. He expertly strokes his tongue across her folds, her essence sweet and tangy on his taste buds. He swipes across her clit, causing her to jerk into his mouth, a string of incoherent curses leaving her lips. 

She drops the fabric of her shirt and threads her fingers through his hair once again, gripping it almost painfully. He groans against her, the vibrations of his voice against her causing her to see stars. 

He lifts her shirt out of his way once again, mouth never breaking from her, and growls in frustration at the piece of fabric that kept dropping into his face. Taking his growl as a silent command, she rips the fabric over her head and tosses it aside, now completely naked and bare to him as well as the cool night air.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, finally getting a full view of her breasts and the rest of her that was previously unrevealed to him. He breaks away from her cunt for a moment, both hands moving to palm her full breasts. 

“You are exquisite.” 

She’d almost prefer if he’d insult her, be cruel to her, say the worst things he can think of - that way she wouldn’t have to grapple with these new feelings that are bubbling up to the surface at how generous of a lover he’s proven to be, when only minutes prior she was sure that they shared a mutual hatred for each other. Maybe he was just putting on a show for her, like he always did. 

Yes. He’s putting on a show. He has to be, she thinks. 

She hisses through her teeth when he finally brings his mouth and hand back to her mound, wasting no time in resuming his prior crusade to make her come, pumping his fingers at a punishing pace, his tongue circling her clit in tandem. He keeps his free hand on her breast, pinching her nipple hard, causing her to roll her hips into his face. 

“That’s it, love. Take what you need.” 

For fucks sake, he’s going to be the death of me. 

His words, his mouth, and his dexterous fingers are a wicked combination - every single movement, every single word, every lap at her needy cunt is nearly too much for her to bear as she uses every bit of her remaining strength to keep from crumbling into a heap in the dirt. 

As requested by him, she continues to rock her hips forward, grinding down onto his fingers and mouth, his fingers hitting all the right places to drive her over the edge. She grips at his shoulder, nails digging into the fabric of his ruffled evening shirt, chest heaving as she creeps ever closer once again, and silently prays he has mercy on her this time. 

“Astarion, I’m—“

“I know, love. Come for me,” he says, muffled with his mouth still tongue deep in her. 

As if on command, she shatters, tumbling over the edge into free fall towards the hardest orgasm she’s had in months, perhaps even years. 

Her body shakes and writhes as she gushes on his tongue, but he doesn’t slow his movements, still pumping into her as she rides out her orgasm, pangs of unbridled pleasure crashing over her like tidal waves.

Her legs quiver, the leg that she was using to stand begins to buckle at the knee as all strength she’d had left from the day has finally been sapped from her body. She slowly slides down the tree into his lap, eyes closed and still reeling. 

She manages to weakly tilt her head forward, looking him in the eye for the first time with new eyes - unsure what that meant for her yet. She was half sure that she still hated him. Half. 

He grins at her, his own chest still heaving as he catches his breath, ruby irises lighter than before, a look in his eyes that she doesn’t quite recognize. 

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been dying to do that since the day I met you.” He says, popping his fingers into his mouth and licking her slick off. 

She swallows hard at the sight, her still sore and sensitive core starting to flutter again as he licks his fingers clean. 

“I still don’t like you, you know. You’ll have to do more than make me orgasm to change my mind.” She says, her tone unusually calm and amicable toward him despite her words. 

“Oh darling, who said we had to like each other to do that? In fact, I think it makes it all the more thrilling.” He brings his hand up to her cheek, gently caressing it and swiping his thumb across it. 

She puffs air out of her nose, a wry smile on her lips. “Who says we’re going to do that again?”

He grins, bringing his still wet lips and face closer to hers, his breath smelling strongly of a mixture of her essence, wine, and a bitter metallic smell that was undeniably blood - she assumes he hunted not too long before he joined her in the woods. 

“You can hate me all you want, my sweet, but I know that nobody has ever made you feel the way that I do. It’ll only be a matter of time before you’re crawling back into my bedroll, begging for another taste.” He taunts, his voice in that same low and sultry tone he did so well, the one that he knew had the power to melt anybody right into his hands. 

She narrows her eyes for a brief moment - then an idea flits into the back of her mind, a mischievous smile following suit. The game was now set, and she was ready to play. 

“We’ll see who begs who first, darling.” 

part two - ♡︎

#this was a wild ride #lmk if u like it hehe #astarion #astarion ancunin #spawn astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #if u squint #enemies to lovers #idk what else to tag this lol #my fics #aat

[thefallennightmare]

Arranged-twenty one[end]

credit to whoever made the gif. found on google/pintrest.

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: WOW! I truly cannot believe how huge this story was going to get when I first started to write it weeks ago. It brought me a huge following and some lovely lovely people I can see calling friends. Thank you everyone for every amazing thing you've commented or reblogged. One mob story end, another begins!

Tags(closed): @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @broadwaybabe18 @samsgirl93 @cherryflavoureds-blog @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @capsgrantrogersclqrosmgc @loumaaria-blog @queerqueenlynn @pampeop @cjand10 @purplerain85 @savannahcole99 @evanstanhoney @sebastianstansqueen @portrait-ninja @honeyglee @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @lilya-petrichor @valsworldofcreativity @buckycallsmeaslut @romanoffjohansson @themayzittcha @sapphiredreamer26 @buckybarnessimpp @itjustkindahappenedreally @mavrellover91 @esoltis280 @playboystark @legendarytrashcopeclipse @pansexual-4-all @elizacusi-blog @dnc331 @tee-swizzle @lovsalpkn @yourfavunsub @madebylilly @cerberusmybeloved @lclove2012-blog @onelmstreetett @tesseract69 @monique2281 @wayward-gypsy @wholesomewhorelol @ozwriterchick @pono-pura-vida @bogwaterswamp @s0urw00lf @daydreaming-mood @maggiemae5 @big-heart-ninjasblog @alexa4040 @screaming-les-bean @loustan90 @buckys2lut​ @marnle

Arranged Masterlist

I sat on the front porch of my home, slowly rocking the in chair, a blanket and book perched on my lap. The noises of the waters slamming against the rocks from the river in front of me and the birds singing their nightly songs had brought me a sense of solace. Even if it had been like this for some time, it never got old. 

For the first half during my time here, I ended up bouncing from hotel to hotel but needed a sense of stability and with some of the money I earned from my parents' will, I bought a decent sized cottage on a large piece of land in Washington. 

My soul felt happy, at peace, here while my heart would break even more with each day that passed, knowing that Bucky was so far away. 

It was my own choice but that didn’t make it any easier. 

Almost every day, I wondered what he had been up to or who he had been seeing. We both decided that we would stay married during this time apart but I couldn't help but question what he did when he felt lonely. I never thought he would find himself in the arms of another, there were moments that proved to me I was the only one for him; the ring of my left hand was one of those. 

But that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t tell me the three words that I had been silently begging him to say. 

I thought that with my time away that it would be easy to not think of Bucky but he would be my first thought when I woke up and last thought before my eyes fluttered shut for the night. 

There had been many times that I thought of going back to see him but knew that I would revert back to who I was before. The move to Washington was the best decision I had made and no one or nothing could make me go back to New York. 

The last time Bucky and I spoke had been a few weeks ago where he offered to send Steve out to make sure I was safe. The two best friends couldn’t help but worry about my safety out here because we were unsure if some of John’s mens who survived that night would seek revenge for me killing him.

It had been six months and I had yet to run into any issues. 

At the thought of Steve, I couldn’t help but frown as I checked my phone to see if he had returned my text. 

I’m glad you’re safe. There had been some talk about someone else taking over John’s position. No word on revenge or not. 

With a sigh, I quickly typed my response back to Steve. 

Wonderful. Keep me updated?

I sat up from my chair with a groan, bones cracking back into place, and decided to turn in for the night.

Footsteps echoed on my porch, the old wood creaking with each step. I woke with a loud gasp and sat up in bed, sweat clinging to my body. I hadn’t had that nightmare in so long but since Steve had mentioned someone new had taken over John’s position, I could help but fear revenge coming to take my life. That nightmare wasn’t what woke me up tonight; those footsteps were. 

Flash images of John’s lifeless body at my feet clouded my vision and I squeezed my eyes tight, hoping that would block it out. 

I held the blanket close to me as I strained my ears to hear if there were any other movements coming from outside of my front door. Heavy footsteps pounded right outside my window and I slipped deeper into my bed, phone clenched tightly to my ear. 

He picked up in the middle of the first ring. 

“Doll?” 

His thick, tired, voice brought a sense of comfort, only for a moment because I felt guilty for waking him. It was only eleven in the evening here which meant it was two in the morning in New York. 

“I think someone’s trying to break into my house, Bucky” I whispered. 

There was some rustling on his end. “Are you alright?” 

I nodded even though he couldn’t see. “Yeah but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t freaked out.” 

“Look out the window and tell me what you see.” 

I took a deep breath and quietly trekked over to my window and as I peered through the curtains, the culprit of the heavy footprints had its back to me as it was digging in the trash. 

I mentally smacked myself when I realized that I had been scared of a bear that had made its way to my house because of the garbage I had forgotten to throw away. 

“Y/N?” 

Bucky’s worried voice brought me back and I sighed into the phone. 

“It was a fucking bear,” I grumbled. 

He chuckled deeply and it caused the corner of my mouth to curl in a smile. 

“Well, I’m glad that I brought you some hilarity in the middle of the night. I’ll let you get back to sleep,” I sighed, ready to hang up. 

“No, wait,” Bucky seized his laughter. “I want to talk.” 

I climbed back into my bed. “Really?” 

“Yeah, how have you been?” 

“Good,” I nodded. “Besides getting woken up by a bear eating my trash.” 

We shared a laugh now. 

“I miss hearing your laugh,” Bucky admitted. 

I bit my lip. “I miss you.” 

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. “I miss you too, doll.” 

My fingers began to pull at a loose string that had started to become undone on my blanket. 

“I would love to see you soon. If that's alright? I can send my jet to fly you back home.” 

Home. 

I didn’t want to tell him that this was my new home now. I wasn’t going to leave it yet. 

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” I wondered. 

“I was never mad at you, Y/N. I understand why you wanted to leave but I wish I could have done something to make you stay.” 

“There was something you could have done. I even asked that of you,” I reminded him. 

With the deep sigh that came through the phone, I could almost see Bucky pinching his eyes shut. 

“I can't leave. This gang has been in my family line for generations.”

“What about me?” I shrugged. “Don’t I matter enough to you?” 

“Of course you do.” 

I scoffed. “Just not enough to love me.” 

“Doll,” Bucky started. 

“I don’t even know why I’m wasting my breath on this anymore. You know I love you and I guess that’s all that matters. I really hope that you realize how you feel soon otherwise tell me so I’m not being strung along.” 

“We’re married, aren't we?” 

“That doesn’t mean you love me, Bucky.” 

More rustling on his end with some whispering in the back. My brows knitted in confusion while my heart fell to my ass, afraid to ask. 

“Is someone there?” 

“Steve. He’s been staying here lately.”

“Oh,” I breathed.

Before I could question it even more, Steve’s voice came through the speaker. 

“Bucky doesn’t want to admit it but he’s afraid to sleep in this giant house by himself.” 

I smiled. “So you two have been having sleep overs? How cute.”

“Except Steve’s a blanket hog.” 

Steve’s remark shouted through the phone. “At least I’m not an ice box.” 

“Wait,” I sat up straighter in bed with ears perked at the mere thought. “Have you two been sharing a bed?” 

Bucky scoffed. “We’re joking, doll. What were you thinking?” 

Heat flushed over every inch of my skin at the suggestive tone from Bucky. 

“Well now that I’ve embarrassed myself once again, I’m going to sleep.” 

“When can I see you?” Bucky questioned.

I sighed. “I don’t know, Bucky. I’ll admit it was nice talking to you tonight but it’s not on my shoulders to fix things.” 

“I’m sorry for all the lies, Y/N. I really am.” 

“I know. But apologies only go so far.” I reiterated. 

Bucky sighed and I knew he wanted to talk about this more but I had said everything I needed to. It was up to him now. 

“Maybe I’ll call you tomorrow night. Who knows, there could be a racoon that's eating my trash this time,” I joked.

Bucky laughed at the sound of it, my heart fluttered and I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Goodnight, Bucky.” 

“Goodnight, doll.” I could hear the smile in his voice. 

I wheeled the suitcase to the front door, triple checking I had everything I needed for this weekend trip. My feet scattered throughout the house when I realized that my keys were missing, the fear of missing my flight being etched in my bones. 

This was a last-minute decision. I had bought the plane ticket two hours ago after ghosting my computer mouse over the ‘purchase’ button for what seemed like forever. There were so many reasons why I shouldn’t go and I considered every single one. But the one reason why I should go is what made me finally click the button. 

I love him and miss him. 

Two days.

That’s all I allowed myself to stay with Bucky before returning back. Secretly, I hoped that this time together would make him realize how much I meant to him. 

It might have been selfish of me to leave by Sunday night but I didn’t care. After our phone call last night, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. I needed to see him, feel him, smell him. I didn’t care what; I just needed to be around him. 

I kept telling myself that it was love, which it was, but there was a small sliver of it being lust. 

“Fucking finally,” I beamed after I found my keys in the couch. 

I threw the door open, ready for the weekend ahead, but my feet came to a halt when my eyes landed on the man who stood in front of me, hand raised ready to knock. 

My pupils widened with surprise, not expecting to see him in front of me. 

“Hey, doll,” the corners of his smile reached his eyes, the skin around them crinkled. 

“Bucky,” I breathed. “What are you doing here?” 

His hair had grown a bit since I left and the ends of it blew in the wind. I had the urge to walk into his embrace but held it at bay. 

He looked at me with desperation in his eyes as he let out a deep breath. “You wanted to know how I feel about you, right?” 

My heart soared but I didn’t allow it to get ahead of itself, not knowing where Bucky was leading with this so all I did was nod. 

 “I gave it up,” he shrugged.

I tilted my head with confusion. “Gave what up?” 

“The mob, the mansion, everything.” 

My eyebrows reached the top of my forehead. “You did?” 

Bucky nodded. “After we hung up last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much I fucking missed you. I needed to see you.” 

His eyes landed at the suitcase in my hand and looked at me with something glimmering in his eye. 

“I was coming to see you.” I admitted. 

He chuckled. “I’m glad I made it here when I did.” 

I shifted on my feet. “So you gave everything up? For what? I thought it was important to you because of it being in your family for generations.” 

“You,” Bucky admitted. “You're my family now. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize but the only thing I need is you, Y/N.” 

I sighed, ready to explain that I already knew this, but he cut me off by crashing his lips to my own. Instantly I melted into his embrace, the familiarity of how he tasted made me moan into his mouth, which caused Bucky to wrap his arms around my back. My hands snaked behind his neck and my fingers began to play with the new length of his hair. 

His tongue brushed against my bottom lip and I parted my lips so he could deepen the kiss. I gave his bottom lip a little nip and tug which caused Bucky to grasp my hips, vibranium fingers leaving little love bruises. 

As we pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine and stole another quick kiss. 

“I love you.”

My heart leaped and my insides exploded at hearing those words. 

I leaned back slightly. “What did you say?” 

Another deep but quick kiss to my lips. “I love you, doll. I knew it from the second you barged into my office that first day. I never wanted to admit it to myself because I never thought I was worthy of having someone love me the same, given who I am.” 

I cupped his cheek, the pad of my thumb brushing across his bottom lip. 

“In our short time together, you made me realize that I am worthy of having someone to love and I’m so glad it’s you.” 

“I know that in the beginning it seemed like it was only for this agreement between our fathers but trust me when I tell you that I never thought of it since that first day,” Bucky said.

He continued. “I wanted to tell you six months ago when you were packing to leave but I knew how selfish that would have been. You needed this time away to mentally heal from what happened with your parents and John. I couldn’t hold you back from that.” 

I placed a chaste kiss on his chin. “Thank you.”

Bucky responded with another kiss to my lips. “I love you, Y/N Barnes.” 

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered to life, hearing him say those words for what felt like the first time again, and I wrapped my arms tighter around him in an embrace. 

“I love you too, Bucky.” 

He left a kiss on the top of my head. “So, are you going to show me around our new place?” 

I looked up at him with a hopeful gleam in my eyes. “Does that mean we’re staying in Washington?” 

“Doll, I’ll stay with you wherever you want to go.” 

We sealed that promise with another fiery kiss as I allowed Bucky to lead me into our house, the door closing behind us. 

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan

[anarkali-disco-chali]

Hi, my name is Shrishti. I derive immense pleasure from the petrichor that accompanies rainfall, evoking cherished memories of my childhood birthdays. My affection for the moon is ineffable, stemming from late-night moments shared with my father on the balcony, serenading it with lullabies. Although the bond with my father has evolved, I find solace in this transformation. My artistic endeavors often yield diverse creations that reflect my essence. The cosmos, with its celestial wonders, particularly captivates me. The notion of humanity crafting constellations and weaving mythological narratives provides a sense of connection amid the vastness of the universe. I am a constant songstress, renowned for my encyclopedic knowledge of lyrics. Embracing life's moments is my mantra, and I harbor dreams of donning a cottage core dress, frolicking amidst resplendent floral fields to enhance my allure. Proficient in the art of attentive listening, I am no stranger to heartache, yet I remain open to the magic life has to offer. My aspirations include encountering more enchanting moments on this planet and sharing dances with countless strangers.

#intro post #taan #shrishti #anarkali-disco-chali

[saturnsorbits]

Looking for Something to Read?

This list is far from exhaustive, but is a taste of the amazing work I've read from some of the incredible writers here.

-> Please heed the individual warnings on each of the fics, respect each blogs rules and leave the author a nice reblog and comment if you like their work! <-

➥ List Two...

Updated: 9/11/22.

Bakugo

➤ Retweet by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ Spectrophilia by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ Adoration by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ Vindication by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ Knockout by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ One of them will Destroy the Other (ft. Dabi) by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ Dirty by @/kingkatsuki.

➤ Toy Box by @/mindninjax, ➤ Water Under the Bridge by @/mindninjax, ➤ What Once was Mine (ft. Kirishima) by @/mindninjax, ➤ Is Mine Forever (ft. Kirishima) by @/kweenkatsuki, ➤ Like Real People Do (ft. Todoroki) @/mindninjax, ➤ Heaven on Earth by @/mindninjax, ➤ To Shape a Home by @/mindninjax, ➤ Wet Dreamz by @/kweenkatsuki, ➤ Through the Eyes of a Child (ft. Midoriya) by @/kweenkatsuki.

➤ Birthday Blues by @/katsukikitten, ➤ 'Track Three' by @/katsukikitten, ➤ Forgotten by @/katsukikitten, ➤ Drugs and Dior by @/katsukikitten.

➤ Dead Salvation by @/littlesponge-fics, ➤ The Boy Next Door by @/littlesponge-fics, ➤ Glitter and Glowsticks by @/littlesponge-fics, ➤ If it's not One Thing, It's Your Mother by @/littlesponge-fics.

➤ A Room Unused by @/bakugotrashpanda, ➤ Demons by @/bakugotrashpanda, ➤ Dancing on my Own by @/bakugotrashpanda, ➤ Two Truths and a Lie by @/bakugotrashpanda.

➤ Rocky Mountain High by @/spellboundspectre, ➤ Three Nights by @/alwayskatsuki, ➤ Atmospheric by @/strafepanzer, ➤ With the Skies as my Witness I Take Off by @/savory-script.

Kirishima

➤ Wrath of the Mountain God by @/katsukikitten, ➤ Alone by @/bakumu, ➤ Meet Me in the Afterglow by @/some-kingofgnome, ➤ Royalty AU Snippet by @/willowser, ➤ Locked-Up by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ Gone to Hell (ft. Bakugo) by @/megsngrits, ➤ Beyond Tonight (Kiribaku) by @/unbreakablekiribaku.

Kaminari

➤ Finish Line by @/whats-her-quirk, ➤ 48 Hours by @/bakugotrashpanda, ➤ Munchies by @/katanaski, ➤ Affection by @/itsruiblue, ➤ Daisy Chains by @/kingkatsuki, ➤ Everything I Ever Wanted by @/kingexpl0sionmurder, ➤ Straight Shooter by @/whats-her-quirk, ➤ Warmth by @/afterxcare.

Other Characters

➤ Its the Damn Season (Todoroki) by @/mindninjax, ➤ If I Could Keep Cool (Todoroki) by @/andypantsx3.

➤ A Force of Nature (Sir Nighteye + Todoroki) by @/titan-fodder.

➤ Finish Line (Bakugo + Sero) by @/kweenkatsuki), ➤ Pick your Phone Up (Sero) by @/prettyboykatsuki.

➤ Assigned Love (Hawks) by @/bakugotrashpanda, ➤ I can Hear my Ex Calling (Hawks) by @/nohoney,

➤ Vengence (Awase) by @/kingkatsuki,

➤ In the Forest of Hidden Things (Iida) by @/forcefully-awoken, ➤ With or Without my Best Intentions (Iida) by @/whats-her-quirk.

➤ Smiles in the Rain (Midoriya) by @/miss-nebula.

➤ Eat your Heart Out (Shinso) by @/prettyboykatsuki.

➤ So My Darling (Rody) by @/itsruiblue.

➤ Restoration and 18th Century Lit (Shigaraki) by @/get-shiggy-with-it.

➤ Look at Me (Dabi) by @/touyasdoll.

➤ As it Was (Aizawa) by @/karikarasuno.

➤ Frostbite (Natsuo) by @/trafalgar-temptress.

➤ The Mask (Levi) by @/mindninjax, ➤ Take Solace in the Night (Levi) by @/mindninjax,

➤ Mine (Armin) by @/eripeachy.

➤ Pyroclastic (Miche) by @/titan-fodder, ➤ Back to Baseline (Miche) by @/titanfodder.

➤ The Tiniest Notion (Reiner) @/titan-fodder.

➤ Death Dance (Marco) by @/whats-her-quirk, ➤ Petrichor (Marco) by @/whats-her-quirk.

➤ Cresendo (Erwin) by @/prettyiwa.

➤ Lessons in Love (Moblit) by @/ghostparty.

➤ Where the Fire Should Have Been (Rengoku) by @/lou-stuck.

➤ Six Signs (Sanemi) @/angelic-guardienne.

➤ Something About Us (Tomura x Gyuutaro) by @/kinjuustu.

➤ If Love Was Ours (Kunimi) by @/Iwaasfairy.

➤ 10 Months (Hanamkai x Matsukawa) by @/mintmatcha.

➤ Lament (Hanakaki x F!Reader + Oikawa x F!Reader) by @/mintmatcha.

➤ Play Ground (Fukunaga) by @/mintmatcha.

➤ Tipsy Sway (Hinata) by @/saetryn9, ➤ Lie to Me (Hinata) by @/karasuqueen.

➤ Bite the Pillow (Goshiki) by @/delireum.

➤ 'Till We're Home Again (Osamu) by @/some-kindofgnome.

➤ Home for the Holidays (Sugawara) by @/pazumane.

➤ Invisible (Bokuto) by @/zzzennin.

➤ A Little Incentive (Daichi ft. Karasuno) by @/mindninjax.

➤ My Divine (Kuroo) by @/prettyboykatsuki.

➤ Solar Noon (Nishinoya) by @/tsumoo.

➤ Novelty (Tendou) by @/oh-katsuki.

➤ Still Stuck on You (Iwaizumi) by @tuki-tetsuya.

➤ I Wanna Lick the Wrapper (Ushijima) by @/strafepanzer.

➤ Death Becomes Her (Yuji) by @/mindninjax.

➤ Scarcity (Sukuna) by @/kweenkatsuki.

➤ God Must be Doing Cocaine (Megumi) by @/mindninjax, ➤ Boy, Interrupted (Megumi) by @/some-kindofgnome.

➤ Nights Without You (Nanami) by @/devilstempt.

➤ Under His Skin (Geto) by @/ohhoney.

#saturnsuggests

[xcyphoz0a]

Petrichor

Gender neutral reader, fluff TW/CW: Spoilers? Word count: 505 Proofread: nope

| The pleasant smell after a light rain shower |

Ah, the rain stopped.

You look outside of your window as you stand up in worry of the hydro dragon. The chair screeches on the marbled floor as you set down your pen and paper on the desk.

You rush out of the mahogany doors as your shoes create splashes from the puddles of water, as you make your way towards the court.

The staff of the court let you in with familiarity as you bow in gratitude, turning back to your destination.

Your huffs of slight fatigue is evident as you reach the doors, taking a moment to rest and breathe in more deeply.

Your hand travels up towards the door, hand clenched into a light fist to knock.

The hurried knocks on the door evokes a small ‘come in’ by the Iudex of Fontaine, as you open the doors to find him sitting in his office.

You take small steps toward his chair, eyes falling towards his stiff posture.

“Are you alright?” Your voice quivers in concern, your hand gently taking his gloved palm.

Neuvillette only nods slightly as a response, in attempt to assure your worry. However, your eyes look into his light lavender eyes, pupils scanning his own to check for any discomfort.

You notice the badly wiped tear marks on his face, as your thumb comes into contact with his cheek to wipe at the mark. The white haired man leans into your touch.

You whisper, “You don’t need to hide your emotions to me.” as you try to coax a more true response within your partner.

Neuvillette opens his mouth slightly, before closing it again, his eyes averting your worried gaze as he searches for something interesting on his table.

Your left palm pushes his face to look at you again, as you take him into your arms, patting the white hair of his in attempt to comfort him and his emotions. The man takes a short while to reciprocate your hug, eyes closing in solace, as his posture relaxes in your hold. His forehead rests on your left shoulder, his breathing becoming slower in newfound peace in your arms.

“You alright now?” You murmur, slowly letting go of his form as you look at him again. He manages a small but appreciative smile as he looks back at you.

“Yes, dear, thank you.” His voice contains an adoring tone, as if to say, I love you so much.

Your eyes crinkle into a smile as you take both his hands into yours, his thumbs rubbing the back of your hands. Your heart fills with warmth as you take in his gesture, the affection easing away your unease and concern.

“Why don’t we go outside to refresh ourselves?”

Neuvillette mirrors your own smile as he stands up, hand in yours as you both make your way out of the court, talking about the small trivial things to each other as the pleasant and refreshing smell accompanied by the quiet sounds of mechanics shower each other with mirth and joy.

#smallcecilia work #astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x y/n #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillete x reader

[revelisms]

Both Sides of the Moon

Silco and Sevika's relationship, told through a series of business ventures.

Rating: M | WC: 9k | Oneshot | Sevika POV Features plenty of psuedo-marital messiness, terrible humor, a brutal and bloody Silco, Silco being a Dad, and big kinds of Tension between these two. CWs: Graphic violence, sadistic/masochistic tones and themes around past trauma and abuse. Full list of tags and warnings can be found in the overview and A/N. Full story on AO3

Preview:

Topside's air reeks of petunias.

Even washed out by a storm heavy as this—petrichor oozing off the stones, the skies thundering with ozone, puddles stirred and peltering beneath their feet—the nectar of these Piltie gardens is damned near impossible to avoid. It leaves her nose wrinkling.

Were she a softer woman, less corrupted by the death she wore like a second skin, she may have found simpler pleasures watching those kaleidoscopic prisms blooming to life around them: throngs of sun-bright lilies and dusted roses, daffodils and daisies and hyacinths, all dancing beneath the rains in sweeps of petaled skirts and leafed tresses.

By the Kindreds' grace, she is not—and so she takes no pleasure in it, at all.

She clears her lungs of the vile sweet on the air, and breathes in something blessedly more familiar: woody ash, a spike of citrus, soured with the chemical fumes that stick to their clothes like a stubborn stain. 

It's a scrap of solace, in this hell of a city—all of it too bright, too floral, too clean. 

A reminder of where she belongs. Of to whose coin her services are owed.

(Coin stained in gun oil and blood-rust, tucked beneath the breast pocket of a suit cloaked in seal-slick leather, where he skims his claws against the seams: feels their jagged minting bite back at him.)

The movement tips her eyes over her shoulder. She's used to the image she's met with. Thin-boned in a body forced into years of back-breaking trade; a lazing prowl to his stance that leaves him a half-head shorter, even in those pompous boots. 

She may have scoffed at it, once—that she would lay down her life at the feet of a man she could just as easily snap over her knee. 

Years of tailing his blood-soaked shadow have taught her to think differently.

His presence commands a breadth that his fractured appearance can only scrape the edges of. He speaks with a voice that does not fit his face; carries himself with an aura that can fill a room, without a single word spoken. A fly always lurking in the walls of one's mind, who's wrangled free from the cobwebs and devoured the host, taken reign over what remains.

"In time," he muses, trained on the foliage across the way, "you may yet come to appreciate it."

He's made a habit of plucking her vexations from her fanged mouth and speaking them, himself. Unnerving as it is cumbersome.

Sevika rolls the thought over, and sneers at it.

As if.

She's never had a mind for strategy. Never had the patience, the care, the will to don veils of performance at every minute of every damned hour; to twist these rogue pawns together, in some preordained act of design.

Let her handle the bloodspills and snakebitten threats, silence a room with the weight of her stare alone; let her sit in the shadows, and twist her knives, and observe.

That, she's good at.

"You appreciate it?" she turns back on him.

One dark brow raises, marginally. Silco loosens his shoulders; says, "I appreciate possibility," with a shrewd dryness. "The promise in potential." He's studying something across the way—seeing and unseeing. A shadow dips at the scarred edge of his mouth. "That hunger will turn a mutt to the hand that feeds it." 

Loyalty.

A gamble, rather. But one he's willing to take.

Strategy is lived and breathed by this man—a necessity of his own survival, as much as he finds some crude satisfaction in twisting the threads to his favor. Contradictions that weigh in every step he takes, from a lifetime plotted on axes of dichotomy.

He should have never crawled free from the mines. Should have stayed dead in the Pilt. By all accounts, he should have never made it to the seat he now occupies, ruling over a Council of his own forging.

And yet—in that, he is Zaun's own embodiment. A spiteful manifestation of perseverance, in the face of generations-long disempowerment. An element of chaos, in an otherwise preordained world.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #silco #silco arcane #sevika #sevika arcane #jinx #jinx arcane #silco & sevika #eye and teeth of zaun #silco & jinx #crime dad daughter duo #this wip has been burning a frickin' hole through my folders i am SO HAPPY it's done #there's so many layers with these two and i love it #augh #both sides of the moon #writing

[uhohitsdorian]

I have so much love in my heart for all these horrible people who would probably kill me

[Image: a series of black and white doodles of six characters, titled “Choose Your Fighter:” (first row, second row, left to right): an exasperated-looking woman with curling horns, holding a mug printed with the text “world’s worst lawyer” with a shaking hand, labelled “Overworked Hell Mom”; a muscular man with a topknot, thick black tattoos, and a face curled into an over-exaggerated evil smirk, labelled “Guy who’s really good at everything including tyranny”; a drow whose face is almost entirely hidden behind his short, choppy hair, with a peaked cap, lowered ears and an exhausted scowl, labelled “My katabasis is more poetic than yours”; a doglike kobold peeking over the edge of a table, mesmerised by a shiny ring lying on it, labelled “Our darling stupid nonbinary klepto mascot”; a young girl in a hat, with an uncannily joyful expression on her face, delicately holding up a glass jar whose contents are pixelated to render them ambiguous, labelled “‘Can I harvest this?’”; and a small woman with very long hair and pointed ears, in a cruder style than the rest, standing with her knees bent, her fists readied and a comically wide smile, labelled “Flirtatious Gremlin”. End ID.]

#Hey. Hey everyone. Tag yourself #D&D #Art #Helaina #Romar #Solace Petrichor #Hoxi #Agnes #Alva #Friend’s OC #Cast List #VoK #Erinyes #Humans #Drow #Bard #Kobold #Night hag #Elves #? #Fey #?? #The Pictures of Dorian They #Doodles #ID #26.7 #2022

[lorienfae]

There's rain outside the window

and I recall petrichor-wafted-solace

upon its breath...

Sometimes, the mind

is like sky

— trivial and dreaming and billowing,

everything's filaments

and swirls, cryptic and simple both...

Raindrops type out a dribbly letter

of passage, perhaps

a long lost memory of Pangaea

when she was still extant.

© Anna S. 2023

#poetry #spilled ink #writing #poets on tumblr #creative writing #poem #free verse

[the-huldras-back]

The Contest

Something I did to get this itch for fairy competitions out! Warning for a bit of body horror.

"And to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure, John?" Asked the Faerie Queen, resting on her throne of living apple boughs. The apple tree bowed from her lazing and dripped fragrant blossoms through her silk-smooth hair. The man scratched his stubbly chin, one hand in his pocket, and peered about at the gathered fey folk with a nervous shake to his knees. Her Majesty had her retinue of knights in shimmering silver-steel, and dozens of courtiers who tittered or murmured behind their masks and fans. 

He nodded respectfully to the Queen, before demanding, "Our son, Arialliendel. I've had such terrible dreams, the kind my grandmother warned me to heed, and I want to bring him home." A hush fell over the court as he addressed her by her first name, a simple farmer before the majesty of an ageless fey. The queen's face darkened with the deliberate humiliation, but she stood nonetheless, the heavy weight of her full belly obvious under her dress when she wasn't lounging. It brightened him to see. But now he had to play the games of Fairies, and his grandmother's advice burned in his chest. No way to win but to cheat. Do the unexpected, put them on their back foot. Never let them know they've lost before they ever played.

The shimmering knights put hands to hilts, but she calmed them with a glance, one hand gently holding the weight of their unborn child. "I told you truly beneath the withering apple tree, dear John. The child will be fey, not a thing likely to be understood by your kind." She had the beginnings of a smile on her face, and John could only stand stock-still, like a man confronted with a panther who was equal parts sleepy and hungry. 

"And human. Even less likely understood by yours, or else we wouldn't fascinate you so," he challenged, to cooing and murmurs from those beady fairie eyes in the court. "You'd only ever see him as an object, just as you saw me. I want my son, She of the Apple Blossom, and I will have him. I'll settle this in your way, if I must." He was firm, challenging her directly. Courage, cleverness, a willingness to cheat. He hoped he wasn't wrong. 

"A competition?" She gasped, face darkening like a thundercloud. Blossoms rained down from the woven ceiling of the Court, and the courtiers cringed as a circle of petals cleared around her. The air got heavy, and he felt the rotted molar in his mouth begin aching at the smell of petrichor. 

"A contest," He agreed, willing himself not to smile. He had something in mind. 

"Will it be a battle of brawn, you hay-strewn oaf?" She asked dangerously, waving to her knights. "Anyone may be your challenger, and with that iron dagger on your belt, it's more than fair." 

"No, your majesty," He rebutted, taking out his dagger. Revealing it's blade in her presence, he showed off that the belt knife was snapped off halfway down it's length. He dropped the piece, at her feet, even the knights cringing at the sight of soft grey iron. "I'd make poor sport against ageless warriors, I'm so clumsy I seem to have broken my knife."

"WIts, then." She offered, taken aback. He could see she wasn't expecting that. She turned and waved to her courtiers. "All of them are more than a match for you, as hollow as your head is." The courtiers started to straighten up at her words, fluffing up with pride in their delicate silks and brocades. 

"No, your majesty," He shook his head, for all the world like a helpless peasant. "I'm afraid I never learned my letters till I met you, and the only genteel poems or riddles I know are ones you taught me 'neath the apple tree." He smiled at her, and was so pleased to see he could still pink her cheeks, even in the face of this terrible battle. It brought him solace, if only for a moment. He had loved her. Truly. "My Grandmother's old riddles and stories would be far beneath the refined tastes of your fine gentlefolk. She taught me every one she knew, and not one would stump your clever kin." 

He could see her getting angry, furious at being so politely denied twice her assured victory, but if there were a third denial, things would get ugly. He had learned well from her and from the old stories. The fey didn’t change, didn’t have to, and their ways would win him his son. “Name the contest. I would never break the trinity with a third suggestion,” She demanded, clearly exasperated. John nodded, waiting for his chance. He had one shot to do this right, and the yeoman knew if he phrased anything poorly, he’d be a head on an apple bough. 

“Sacrifice. The prize is our son, and I would know your mettle if I were to lose to you,” John challenged. “None but you may participate, because the child is yours. This is one challenge I know you cannot refuse. What queen can’t make sacrifices?” He taunted her a bit, knowing that she’d rise to take the bait. For all her wisdom, the Queen was prideful. “I can withstand a hundred of these pitiful human 'sacrifices'. How is the game to be played?” She asked testily. He could see the inhuman quality now. Her teeth lengthened in a wolven rictus, and he could see that despite the haunting beauty he’d once fallen under the spell of, this was no place for his son. 

“I will go first, and if you cannot, in all your grace and strength follow my lead, I will be the winner.” John lectured. He watched her worry over his words, the phrasing, the exact way he’d decided to say it. That was alright. He’d crafted his words with care, but she’d never see how till it was too late. “Agreed,” She spoke regally, so all could hear her. Everyone moved back so that the bright sunlight could envelop the two in competition, none able to interrupt a tradition older than human writing and human pain.

“I’ll start then. I would sacrifice the hands that might hold my son. I’d bleed with them, and pull the nails off to win him." John showed the queen his hand, the hand he’d been keeping in his pocket. All five nails were completely black, like paint, but as John gripped one of the nails with his other hand, it was clear he’d done something, damaged them and let the nail bed fill with blood, as he painlessly peeled the dead nails off, one by one. It hurt, but it didn't pain him as much as it would the queen.

Each one of his disgusting, battered farmer’s nails dropped to the ground like trash, and John nodded to her. Eyes clear and hand dripping fresh red onto the petals of her tree, he could tell she understood. She watched in horror, realizing she’d been tricked. Despite that, she swallowed, and almost dismissively, held out a hand, letting a knight come forward and produce calipers of wood and stone. One by one, the queen writhed soundlessly as her nails were torn free, leaving her beautiful hands bloody and dripping. Beautiful, lacquered nails joined the blackened ones on the floor, and she rolled her shoulders to shake off the pain. “Bravely done, Your Majesty,” he praised, but continued, “But I’ve so much more I’d give. The teeth in my mouth. Food is a joy, but it turns to ash in my mouth thinking of the cruelty you'd inflict on my own flesh and blood.” he reached into his mouth, to the horror of the crowd, and his fingers found the rotted, painful molar in the back of his mouth. He’d been meaning to get rid of it at the barber's anyway, it was loose and hurt him when it rained. It had been the basis of his plan.

The farmer pulled the tooth loose with an agonized yell, and it joined the pile of detritus on the floor, the cracked, rotted tooth providing John relief when it came loose, rather than pain. He smiled to her, then opened his mouth to show it was gone. The crowd got bolder, booing at his clear cheating. But it was within the rules of the game. He watched her consider him with something like shock, then shudder and take the pliers from the knight. With shaking hands, she followed suit, and there was a sickening crack, then a crunch, as she grabbed the same tooth he’d pulled, and yanked it free. 

A beautiful, pearlescent tooth was held up to the crowd, who oo’d and aaah’d appreciatively. She tossed it to the ground with the pliers in disgust, nursing her bleeding mouth, and stared hateful daggers into his soul. “You cheat,” She hissed, face curled in pain and humiliation. “Sometimes getting older, getting hurt… it has its advantages. Suffering can teach you bravery and humility, Your Majesty.” He answered, voice no longer quavering.

He reached down and picked up the broken blade from his belt knife. It was dull and old, but the tip was sharp, and it was well-wrought iron. It had served him many years, and would perform one more task for its master. 

“I would give up anything for my son, Arialliendel. If he’s only half so strange and wondrous as you have been, then I will have no trouble raising him into a fine young man.” He said it solemnly, seriously. He didn’t hate this fairy, only what she’d done, loving him for a time and then stealing away his child to her terrible world of monsters. It was no place for his son.

“I would give up half the light of this world, Your Majesty.” He took a deep breath, then stood up straight and put some steel into his spine, bracing himself for what was to come. The farmer held the blade so tight it cut his hand, and with a roar that startled the court, plunged the tip into his eye. He stabbed fast, then twisted, blotting out one-half of his vision for good. He’d always had good eyes, and it was one of the first things the queen had ever complimented. He knew she couldn’t copy his feat. It was the only thing that comforted him as he annihilated one of them.

Tears leaked down his good eye to match the blood from his now-ruined one. He could have a doctor fix him up later, but there would be no repairing his vision. He was in agony, shaking from the pain, but kept his wits. He held out the cold iron knife and smiled even more coldly. “Yield, your Majesty.” He told her simply. 

She was pale as a ghost, holding out her hand to the gory iron blade like it was a snake. She had to do it like he did. She reached out for the blade once, twice, then pulled her hand away, turned, and vomited loudly behind her throne, shocking the crowd. John, dizzy and recognizing he’d won, dropped the knife into the pile, shaking with the pain and trying to blink away the blood, only to keep gunking his socket up further with strings of gore.

The Queen finished retching, and wiped her mouth with a silk cloth, before nodding to him, hardly able to look upon his red-soaked face. “I y-yield, John Katarinason. He will be delivered to you on the day of his birth, without so much as a cup of his mother’s milk.” The accord was struck, and everyone in the room shivered at the feeling of magic crawling about beneath their feet.

“Never return here,” She told him firmly. “My love cannot blunt this humiliation, John. If I see you again, I will collect the other eye.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” He said gratefully, bowing to her.

#creative writing #writeblr #fairies #fairy queen #monster

[mx-lamour]

my memorys super stinky and i forget who i do/dont send asks too so ignore if i did hehe; im sending asks to people with 'ask me anything' in their bio thingy; feel free to answer or not, or however youd like!

what is your favorite holiday or occasion/theme?

what fragrance/scents put you in a good mood?

what kind of weather do you love?

if you could have a dream about anything, what would you dream about?

what kind of treats do you love/make you feel happy?

what's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

what kind of music are you craving/listening to right now?

what's something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

I love asks! ty! ♡

Favorite holiday/occasion/theme:

Mabon and weddings.

What fragrance/scent puts you in a good mood?

Petrichor and cinnamon/pie spices.

What kind of weather do you love?

That summer thing where it rains gently but the sun is still shining and the color green gets super saturated.

The kind of still, perfect temperature where you almost can't even feel the air, and it's dark but the sky is clear and you can see the stars.

When it's going to rain, hard, but not yet, and there's the sneaking undercurrent of a breeze, too low to be wind, and it's the kind of uncanny dim where you have no frame of reference for the time of day, and everything in the world seems to be holding its breath.

I like liminal weather.

If you could dream about anything?

I have no idea how to answer this one, haha. I'm always dreaming.

Treats that make you happy?

Cheesecake is the first thing that comes to mind. I eat it very rarely, but it's delicious. The consistency is very rich and satisfying.

My mom used to do homemade cheesecake sometimes, and I have a serious nostalgia for grasshopper (mint/chocolate) in particular.

My husband and I pilgrimmage to the Cheesecake Factory around Valentine's Day most years. (I think my favorite there is the mango lime flavor.)

Oh gods. Tiramisu. I go crazy for tiramisu.

What's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

A fascinating new one: I just learned how to tack up and ride a horse for the first time! I did it for research/writing, but now I really want to ride a horse again. It was very cool. I got the info I needed for my fic, but I don't think I've yet figured out the vocabulary to really fully describe the experience. Very stimmy, though; soothing and exciting. That good riding posture, man. I get it now. I get why people love horses.

Current music:

Pretty much just constantly on my D&D and fanfic playlists. Here's kind of a random selection...

"Start a War" by Klergy/Valerie Broussard is stuck in my head rn.

"Two Gypsies" by Solace is what I listen to about Ezra's mom.

"The Pines" by Roses & Revolutions is for my Immortality fic.

"Lover. Fighter." by SVRCINA has been a good all-purpose one.

"The Empire of Winds" by Alpine Universe is just a serious vibe.

"Dracula" by Bea Miller is one of my latest bops.

"No F.E.A.R." by Madalen Duke, also fun.

Something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

Embarrassing old men.

(I was going to add something to that, but I literally just wrote it and busted up, so. I guess that's it. 🤣)

#ask #lamour answers #cheesecake #horseback riding #song recs #creative writing #liminal #old men

[missuga]

PETRICHOR — AKAASHI KEIJI

+ meet cute, no warnings | 1.5k

as the first week of June slowly passed by you figured the long stretches of spring days full of rain and cloudy skies had come to a close. 

everyone had already quickly grown accustomed to the warm shift in the coming summer air, so much so that everyone seemed to develop the need to go outside. 

even as annoying as the newly crowded sidewalks were, you couldn’t blame them. the chills running down your arm as the sun softly kissed your skin were different than in spring, it brought a comfort you’d been craving for some time now. 

the comfort was fleeting though. you’d gotten too situated in the comfortable embrace of summer that the notion to check any changes in the weather before you left your apartment slipped to the back of your thoughts.

when the first drop landed on your arm, you paid no mind to it, barely able to feel the nuisance at all. it wasn’t until another touched your cheek that you turned your head up, a soft sigh escaping you on instinct at seeing the dark clouds smothering the sun. 

“damn.” that was all you had time to say before the short warning of rainfall was over. 

if you hadn’t been caught out in the downpour yourself seeing the way people clambered to find some sort of shelter would've been funny. it was almost still amusing, bringing just a touch of a smile to the corner of your lips. 

a sharp coolness breaking over the sidewalk sped up your pace and chills found their way down your arms once more. 

there was plenty of room for you to slip under one of the many restaurant patios you passed by to wait out the rain, but with another glance at the brewing clouds, you doubted it would end anytime soon. 

you figured it would be much easier to make it to the café you’d originally had planned on going to. it was earlier than the time you’d be meeting your friend, but you didn’t really mind. 

it only took you a few minutes to reach the cafe, and much to your surprise the rain hadn’t gotten you all that wet, it was the cold you were seeking solace from. you hadn’t dressed for anything cold. 

thankfully you were greeted with warmth once you stepped through the doors, and almost immediately your shoulders relaxed at the comforting aroma drifting throughout the lobby. 

“can i help you?” 

you blinked a few times, eyes wide as you stared at the barista. in your haste to escape the rain you’d completely forgotten any sense of what you usually ordered. 

“um..” your eyes scanned over the menus lined above the pastry case but it was as if you were trying to read a foreign language. the silence was nearly suffocating as you gave the barista an embarrassed smile. 

“i recommend the brown sugar milk tea. it’s really good.” a voice sounded from behind you and for a moment you thought it was a gift from the gods to save you. 

“oh-that actually sounds pretty good.” you tilted around to see who the voice belonged to and you nearly froze again. he was so pretty.

“i figured you’d want something warm, you’re shivering,” he stated matter of fact and it drew a small laugh from the back of your throat. 

“ahh.. yeah i got caught in the rain.” your hand rubbed the back of your neck trying to tame the growing heat creeping up your neck and you turned back toward the barista. “i’ll get a brown sugar milk tea then.” 

“make that two actually.” the boy stepped up next to you now and before you could say anything he pulled out his wallet. “my treat.”

“you don’t have to do that.” you shook your head at his offer despite a small smile tugging at your lips. 

“it’s okay, i want to.” he smiled softly, head tilted to the side a bit as he looked at you and you swore you almost felt your knees go weak. “would you like to sit with me for a bit?”

“sure.” you nodded, following him to one of the tables. as you sat down you noted his clothes looked dry, it was weird, you swore he’d come in after you. “did you make it in before the rain hit?”

he shook his head, holding up an umbrella you didn’t remember seeing before as his answer. another quiet laugh pushed through your lips, what were the odds. 

it only took a few moments for the barista to bring the drinks over. the smell of the tea wrapped around you before it was even set down, it almost felt like a warm hug. 

“this looks so good... thank you for the drink-” you started before the words caught in the back of your throat, “i’m sorry, i didn’t catch your name.”

“it’s akaashi keiji.” 

akaashi’s smile was even gentler than before but his voice held a twinge of amusement now. 

“well, thank you for the drink, akaashi.” you smiled, taking a small sip of the tea. he was right, it was delicious and just what you needed to fight the lingering chill. 

it was odd how something as simple as some rain or a warm drink could change your whole mood in just a few seconds. you didn’t really know why he offered to pay for you drink, but it wiped away any ill feelings the change in weather had brought upon. 

“you’re welcome, y/n.” akaashi spoke after a moment, and you felt your heart jump in your chest slightly. 

“i was just going to introduce myself, how did you know my name?” your eyes grew a bit wide as you racked your brain for any memory of meeting him before, but you knew you’d remember someone like him. 

“is that your friend over there?” he nodded toward the direction of the door and sure enough your friend was standing in the same spot you had been in before, soaked to the bone from rain. “she yelled your name right when she walked in, waving at us.” 

you weren’t sure how you missed it. maybe you’d been too enamored by akaashi’s simple but beautiful presence to notice anyone else. when your heart skipped once more in your chest as a bright yet soft laugh sounded from him you know that was the case. 

“did you see how the rain stopped right when i got in?” your friend whined as she made her way to your table and you could only shake your head in answer. “ugh, will you come to the boutique next door with me so i can get something else to wear?”

“of course.” you could tell she was solely focused on how drenched she was as she didn’t even acknowledge akaashi when the two of you stood from the table.  

“i need to be going too.” akaashi started, gathering his drink and coat before he smiled at you once more.  

“thank you again for the tea, it’s really delicious.” you picked up your drink as well glancing toward your friend as she was already heading toward the door. “shoot i have to go after her, it was nice meeting you.” 

you stood frozen for another moment, not able to move from your spot when akaashi smiled once more. there was something about him that you couldn’t shake off. 

“here, i have i feeling you might be needing this.”

glancing at the umbrella in his hand you couldn’t help the laugh bursting from your chest at his offer. 

“thank you.” you said for what seemed liked the thousandth time. taking the umbrella you tucked it safely at your side as you both headed out the now propped open door.

the coolness from the rain still lingered in the air, fighting the warmth from the sun as it broke through the lingering clouds. 

the smell outside was so different than inside the cafe, it was still sweet, but lighter and earthy. it was soothing as the freshness mingled with the deep sugary aroma from the tea as the steam wrapped around you.

“i appreciate it, but what about you? will you be okay if it starts to rain again?” you asked looking up to the clouds with hesitation, you had no idea if it would clear up for the day or not.

“i’ll be alright, i work just down the block.” 

akaashi’s eyes flicked to his phone for just a moment before he looked back to you. 

“i have to go, it was really nice meeting you y/n.” his voice softened as he tilted his head to the side some with a grin, “hopefully i’ll see you around the cafe again.” 

before you could say anything else he picked up a call, nodding his head at you as he turned in the opposite direction. leaving you with your heart beating just a bit faster than before.

as you headed toward your friend with a lingering smile you could barely hear her calling your name as a soft rumbling broke across the sky and you couldn’t help but grip the umbrella’s handle a little tighter. 

note from em; this is the long-awaited and very long overdue second fic for my 200-follower event, it is not edited and i wrote it pretty fast, apologies if it’s messy. its also my first fic for akaashi, so more apologies if the characterization is bad.

@keilily​ thanks for requesting it! i had fun and it sparked some motivation i lacked for a while

#haikyuu fluf #akaashi fluff #akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyu!! #haikyu x you #akaashi keiji fluff #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x y/n #akaashi oneshot #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu scenario #akaashi fic #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji x y/n #keiji akaashi #keiji akaashi x you #haikyu!! fluff #haikyu!! x reader

[gazelessmenagerie]

..There is was..

Faint.. fleeting.. but his nose couldn't lie to him when it detected the softness of petrichor.

Rising like a beast that was still caught in the lull of slumber, a tail dragged along the stone floor as a furred blanket was clutched around the broad shoulders. Unkempt hair lay in a mess down his back, needing to be brushed and maintained but it could wait..

It could wait.

The days of long summer had ended and the changing seasons was bringing more moisture to his dry, arid desert. The skys were a bright grey, clouds blotting out the blinding sapphire sky for his eyes to be thankful for against the harsh glints of the bright landscape reflecting off the spears of molten sunlight. Each breath brought more of that intoxicating scent, spurring him to numbly pace one foot after the other heedless of not bothering to put on his footwear. Wearing only the simple white pants, the Brute stalked his way out of the cave with his hand gently brushing over the gouging, claw-like marks and etchings of words that do not originate on this planet. He could almost feel the change in air pressure, the heaviness a much needed reprieve as he exited the mouth of the cave and looked upon his barren kingdom with eyes looking skyward.

Striations of clouds greeted his eyes, dulling the sunlight that he may look freely without issue or squinting to control the amount of light that entered his pupils. Thin spires of light could be seen piercing through the soft, fluffy textures where small patches of blue seemed to bleed through. Droplets could be felt on his face, offering a silent blessing even for a beast like him to find a certain... solace in.

Shifting clouds gave their offering to the land below, softening the earth with such gentleness. Mortal eyes could only close, scarce imagining of the feeling of what it must... feel like to open up in the same manner flitted through a mind as the rain touched upon the peaks of his cheeks and slowly trailed down the countours of his face to drip off at the point of his chin.

Gentle... as the rain..

He could almost hear that soft, eerie voice of the wind far, far into the distance as it sung between the rocks molded by time. The clouds that passed by, ever shifting, ever changing, it was a feeling he had no name for but he savored every moment of it until those fleeting sprinkles of rain ceased and he was left alone once more.

Watching the clouds pass over head, the bleeding cyan started to take wider bites out of the pale, gray sky and the sunlight was starting to make his eyes hurt again by staring at the celestial heavens above.

Fleeting and ephemeral.. moments of peace were only meant to be taken in small sips even if he believed the idea to be un-Saiyan like. A small indulgence wouldn't hurt and spending time out in the rain during his first and second years when it shifted from a flooding torrent to a gentle rain he could fall asleep became a ritual for him to enjoy the splendor of rainfall. Looking down at the land stretched before him, he knew it wasn't even remotely enough water for the parched land to bloom with the sweetness of flowers..

Not yet..

The Earth regained its armor and so did he, letting the softness of his gaze become steely once more as he retreated back into his cave and slumped into the bed of pelts and blankets to resume his slumber.

#|| Drabble: { Broly } #( another rain. another drabble. though I wished it lasted longer. aflsdjg ) #( dumb bastard has been wanting a long rain for a while and the desert is not kind enough to give him it yet. )

[little-bunny-in-space]

Rain Baptism

I find it so loving of my Holy Father to baptize me.

For context- after I reverted to Christianity, due to control by my father and not being allowed to go to church, I have been unable to become baptized. I was baptized once as a child, but after straying, my spirit has always felt it needed it again- this time a conscious decision- knowing my soul would be cleansed- once and for all.

Recently I noticed something.

For me, rain has always been a solace. I always prayed for rain when my family ran huge gardens- so I could finally stop working and get some rest. The sound of it, the petrichor before a storm in the summer. Sitting inside and drinking warm tea, listening to rain drops- no matter what has happened- complete solace. Finally getting to be alone, with my own brain, talking to God even...

Every time I go through something hard- my heart being hurt, struggling with temptation or fear...

It rains.

Sometimes it never shows up on the weather or radar. It just... rains.

And I look up, and I cry with the rain. In the spring and summer I feel like a child, splashing and getting myself completely soaked, giggling and playing like all the times I didn't get to.

He loves me. He is baptizing me- letting me know how much He cares by giving me solace than can truly be attributed to Him alone.

#rain #Christianity #Catholicism #St Dymphna pray for us #Maria Goetti Pray for Us #Thank you Lord #small #jinkai speaks #baptism