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sunnydaleherald · 11 months

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The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, May 27th

GUNN: You want to run that by us one more time? LILAH: What was unclear? FRED: I think the part where you offered us Wolfram & Hart.

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The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Cue Heard by apachefirecat (Spike/Buffy, Dawn, Willow/Kennedy, Soft PG-13/T)

Wrath of Buffy by Bl4ckHunter (Buffy/Spike, T)

New Name, New Duty by InMyOwnHeadItGoesLikeThis (Buffy & Giles, G)

I Am Your God. by titsgirlbuffy (section_69) (Angelus/Darla, T)

Headcanons for being multi-lingual and frequenting Caritas by prose-for-hire (Lorne/reader, not rated)

Memorial Day by myrabeth (Buffy/Spike, T)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Held Together, Chapter 1 by MadeInGold (Angel/Spike, M)

Easter Omens, Chapter 1 by BeatriceEveryTuesday (Buffy/Anya, T)

Dig Your Teeth Into Me, Chapter 1 by SomeKindOfADeviant (Angel/Spike, E)

Chapter 1: Of Women and Words by blackcatpersona (Lorne/OC, not rated)

Spiderwebs, Chapter 24 by Willow25 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Under The Rubble, Chapter 24 by Geliot99 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Back Through The Woods, Chapter 14 by Desicat (Buffy/Spike, R)

The Neighbor's Point of View, Chapter 14 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG)

Those 2 again, Chapter 22 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

Stab in the back, Chapter 1 by MelG_2005 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Frosty, Chapters 21-25 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The DeSoto, Chapters 21-25 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, R)

The Grapevine, Chapter 7 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

The World in Shadow, Chapter 5 by ManifoldTime (Scoobies, Stargate crossover, FR18)

Buffy The Sims Player, Chapters 1-4 by HarlowTurner (Scoobies, The Sims crossover, FR15)

Those 2 again, Chapter 22 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

Float, Chapter 1 by Grief Counseling (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Dust, Chapter 1 by flootzavut (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Crochet: Krevlornswath “Lorne” of the Deathwok Clan in amigurumi form! by JBcrochetwizard (worksafe)

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Artwork: Giles/OC by nerdfromthenet (worksafe)

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Headers: BtVS Season 3 headers by onegirlinallthewrld (Buffy, Faith, worksafe)

Collage: Angel (BTVS/ATS) Lockscreen! by weirdo-lockscreens (worksafe)

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Opening Credits SD vs HD Comparison by Rotten Lemonade

Music: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Theme (ukulele cover) by Steven Watson

Fanvid: buffy & angel | you're somebody else by lostlcve

Fanvid: Buffy The Vampire Slayer (1992) Movie Trailer by The Daigler Reviews

Fanvid: Buffy and Damon- Out of This World by Bobblehead89 (The Vampire Diaries crossover)

Fanvid: Evacuate The Dancefloor-BTVS by GothamPond

Fanvid: Dark Willow - Music video (Hunter) by petitepensee44

Fanvid: spike x buffy- all too well (tv) by Theo Malloy

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Fanvid: Buffy Summers | Breakfast by KcchameleonProdz

Fanvid: buffy and faith are definitely qualified and only lightly concussed by IncognitoDuck

Fanvid: Buffy the vampire slayer edit with cry little sister by Random edits 1977

[Reviews & Recaps]

Rewatch: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "I, Robot...You, Jane" (S1Ep8) by mothman-rewatches

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992) - Movie Review by The Saturday Night Movies Podcast

Video: LET'S TALK ANGEL! Season 1 by Georgia Corsby

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season Three, Episode Eighteen: Earshot by Slayed! The Buffyverse Revisited Podcast

Video: Buffy Break Down | Witch by TV Takes

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Season 1 Review by Michael Morley

Video: Buffy Review - 4x22 Restless by Reverse Angle

Podcast: Wrecked S6 E10 (Buffy and the Art of Story) by LIsa M. Lilly

[Community Announcements]

Watchers: The Virtual Series by CN Winters (CNWinters)

[Fandom Discussions]

ats missed a trick in not giving gunn and connor a stronger dynamic by all-seeing-ifer

Spike’s role in btvs (and the buffyverse) and how “unprecedented” or “revolutionary” he was within that universe (anti-Spike) by becomingpart2

I think people take for granted the “Angel is a vampire” and “Angel’s a vampire with a soul” concepts by becomingpart2

anya becoming a capitalist by comradesummers

late seasons buffy being emotionally constipated by froggierboy

The Willow and Xander romantic storyline in Season 3 by Girl4Music

Same Time, Same Place by Girl4Music

the irony of Something Blue by lilatara

Buffy’s prophetic dream at the start of “Welcome to the Hellmouth” by oveliagirlhaditright

You have to love how Angel was one of the few people who didn’t make fun of Buffy’s name by oveliagirlhaditright

Angel Saying Buffy’s Beautiful in the Comics… Kinda (Plus 1 More):) by oveliagirlhaditright

Kennedy by tuiyla

I know joss said the cheese man has no meaning but the cheese is love by valleyg0th

I’m starting to think that Faith Lehane has antisocial personality disorder by bubblegum-blackwood

Who else wasn't a fan of Spike? by Annissa

Why Skip....WHY? by Present-Breakfast768

Does Angel have an overarching metaphor the way Buffy does? by whimsiebat

Illyria sci-fi vibes by Sarita1046

What was the worst part of Season 6? by RandomUser132621

Who would you say deserves every bit of criticism that they receive from fans? by Opening_Knowledge868

Did The Council ever consider this? [temporarily flatlining a Slayer] by mvp2418

Anya's fighting ability by mvp2418

What scene/clip perfectly encapsulates the season its from? by Robititties

Buffy season 8 motion comic by Deviant-Scare

Excessive romance in the show by Eagles56

Did Dark Willow get away with murder too easy? by Madido24

Not including the comics, we never got to see what happens when an already powerful individual gets turned, like a Slayer, witch, werewolf or a Vampomeranian! by anothername1145

The Buffy Club page in my grade 11 yearbook circa 2003 by sir_randywilliam

Love or hate Dawn, gotta appreciate Michelle Trachtenberg for her great portrayal of the character! by Buffvamporigfan

What do you think is The fanfavorite ship between any characters? by incantopatronus

Video: 10 Smartest Decisions In Buffy The Vampire Slayer by WhatCulture

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Video: CLARE KRAMER Q&A + Table Read [The Body] by Table Read Tuesdays

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eruden-writes · 2 years

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Desperation's Summit - Part 8 (Troll x Human)

Summary: What happens when a rich human woman gets kidnapped by a troll in the mountains? The troll claims it was an accident, but is that really true?

cw: spousal death backstory

Taglist: @coolninjavoid

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---

Rallying herself, Cordelia's nose scrunched up and gave a prim laugh. She almost wish she hadn't as Rakash turned to face her, his eyebrows quirk questioningly. Cordelia didn't let her mask slip this time. She flashed him a sharp smile as she gave him a light push on his chest. "Since I did most of the kitchen, have fun bathing your little atrociously sticky tots."

His eyes fell to his chest, where her palm pressed against him. Half a beat passed, a subtle flare passing between the two adults. Without thinking, Cordelia quickly withdrew her hand, but Rakash's eyes followed it, before flicking to her face.

"Really now?" Rakash drawled, eyes half-lidded as he angled his head to stare at Cordelia down his nose.

Before Cordelia could issue a smart retort, Rakash scooped her up and over his shoulder. She gave a shriek, though it was a paltry mimic compared to the decibel she unleashed that first night. Just another farce, he guessed. Rakash made a circuit around the room, accumulating the triplets in his other arm. Only Kazri was fully awake, Ebra and Zalmir were just on the brink of wakefulness.

But not for long. Squirming and writhing in Rakash's grasp, Cordelia pushed at his shoulder. The only thing keeping her from kicking at his front was her own uncertainty how close the children would be to the targeted zone.

Her struggles against him were useless. Just like that first night. Cordelia only half-noticed him lugging her, and the children, toward the back of the cabin and into the mountain. The fire-heated air of the cabin gave way to a cooler - yet still oddly pleasant - chill.

While half her mind focused on wriggling from his grasp, the other part of Cordelia's brain noted the new surroundings. The hall from the cabin proper to the mountain extended further back than she realized and it widened up, with other corridors branching out. Though it was definitely cooler in temperature, it didn't have the wet musty scent she'd expect. Light cast through the hall from glowing stones, embedded in the walls. Cordelia didn't have a chance to count the doors as Rakash continued to confidently stride straight ahead.

Soon, the dry cold air of the mountain started to warm again. And, oddly, it became humid. Her ears perked, smelling the unmistakable scent of water and hearing the almost silent lapping of water against stone. Rakash was going to bathe his children, so what did he intend to do with her in a bathing area?

An immediate shock filtered through Cordelia as her whole brain returned to struggling. She doubted Rakash was going to do anything as uncouth as literally stripping her. However, that didn't mean she wanted to be dumped into water, with her clothes on. "Unhand me!"

"You're just as crusty as the children," Rakash retorted, as he lowered his children to the floor. Thankfully, his children liked - or at least tolerated - bathtime. As the triplets gathered their toys and towels, Rakash's attention returned to Cordelia.

"I beg your pardon!" A half-scandalized gasp and half-infuriated hiss left Cordelia. Her elbow managed to land hard at a spot between his shoulder blades.

Even fueled by rage, the strike hadn't hurt him. With a snort, Rakash swung Cordelia into a princess hold in his arms as he strode toward the waters. The sudden change in positioning made her squeak, staring wide-eyed and somewhat flushed up at him.

From the corner of her eye, Cordelia took note of the bathing area. It was much larger than expected. Like one of those communal bath houses she'd been to in Tritz or Deloux. What surprised her was the steam coming off the water. A hot spring? This large? Connected to his cabin?

"If that's how you beg," Rakash said, drawing Cordelia from her quiet observation of the area. Her eyes jumped to his face, wide from being caught staring around. He hunched over her a little, keeping his words low, so his children wouldn't hear, "You're going to have to do better."

Her reaction was instant. Red bled into her cheeks as she shoved at his chest and wriggled in his hold in an attempt to get him to drop her, "You wish!"

A deep part of him enjoyed the way she felt, squirming against him. Unprompted, his mind imagined the sensation in a different orientation, her beneath him somewhere other than the bathing pool. But he shoved that thought far, far away.

Rakash simply waded further out into the waters while Cordelia continued to thrash in his arms, until the pool rose waist-high on him. Partly to punish her antics - and partly projecting his own frustration at himself onto her - Rakash rumbled, "Troublemakers get first dunk."

"What?!" Another instant reaction as Cordelia' froze, staring wide-eyed up at him.

Without further argument or prelude, Rakash simply dropped the fully-clothed Cordelia into the waters of the pool. She shrieked, the warm water splashing up around her as she scrambled to find footing. Water soaked her clothes, making them heavy. Once she managed to get upright once more, feet on solid rock beneath her, she turned on Rakash.

He's looking pleased with himself, a smug ghost of a grin minutely tilting at his lips and his hands planted on his hips as he watched her. Her hair clung to the sides of her face, the fabric of her clothes slicked to her body. A flush crawled over Cordelia's cheeks as Rakash's gaze slid over her body, as if he could peer through the cloth itself at her. It made a hot sensation graze down her back.

Which only fueled her irritation at him further. With her outrage, she swung her arm through the water, sending a splash toward the troll.

Rakash broke his stance as the water came at him, putting his arms up instinctively to brace. Her water attack only managed to get about shoulder high and wasn't nearly as satisfying as she had hoped. Still, as Rakash lowered his arms, he pinned her with a sharp look. "I think you need another dunk."

"Don't you think about it!" Cordelia backed away from him, crying out to the triplets with a theatrical point toward Rakash, "Cretins! Attack your father!"

"They don't answer to that," said after a backwards glance to his children. Ebra, Kazri, and Zalmir were too busy sending little waves of water at each other at the very edge of the water. Their shrill giggles echoed in the cavernous bathing room. "Besides, they're too busy splashing each other. Which is your doing."

When Rakash returned his gaze to Cordelia, she pressed a hand to her chest, clearly affronted by the accusation. "I did not teach them to splash!"

"Oh-ho ho, didn't you?" Cordelia flushed at Rakash's mocking fake laughter, feeling the reverberation of his deep voice shoot through her. Her glare doubled, trying to ignore the heat licking at her center. He leaned forward, hands on his hips and a cocky curl to his lips, "What did you do just now that's going to get you dunked again?"

She pressed her lips tight, her shoulders hunching as she continued to simply glare at him. Okay, so maybe, inadvertently, she encouraged a splash war. But the kids weren't doing their part, taking on their own father!

So, instead of coming up with an answer, Cordelia merely ignored the allegation. With a huff, she started to slosh back to the pool's edge. "Well, have fun bathing the hellions. I'm getting out."

There was one problem with her plan, however. Rakash was in the direction she was going. Before she got past him, his arm jutted out in front of her, halting her progress. Cordelia turend a glowering gaze up at him, but Rakash only raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you here to help me?"

"Not after you made me soaking wet!" She heard it a second too late. Her blush flared back to life across her cheeks, but she bit her tongue to keep from acknowledging it.

The innuendo wasn't lost on him, either. Rakash made a sound, as if he was going to say something but stopped himself.

With narrowed eyes, Cordelia hissed, "What?"

"Nothing." He held up his hands, palms facing toward her, as if to stop any potential verbal onslaught.

"Better be," Cordelia huffed, crossing her arms and sticking her nose in the air. Despite the act, her insides squirmed excitedly, even as her words rallied against the sensation. "You already rejected my kind offer at the wagon. So none of those thoughts."

As she passed him, Rakash rumbled, "Just try to stop me."

Those few words were like a jolt down her spine. She barely kept from snapping her wide-eyed gaze at him, predicting the smug look she'd find on his face. Unable to take the heat of the bathing area, coupled with the flush that flooded her cheeks, Cordelia rushed off. Well, as much as one can while wading through water.

While Cordelia beat a hasty retreat, Rakash returned to his children, instructing and supervising their bathtime. Though it'd be a lie if he didn't watch Cordelia leave from the corner of his gaze.

Lucky for Cordelia, there was a stack of towels on a rough hewn shelf not far, so she didn't have to look too hard for something to dry herself off with. Though she did duck quickly to her trunk to retrieve clean and less-wet clothes before quickly stripping. She chose a simple, wine red linen dress. It was something she usually layered beneath other, more intricate, pieces. But she really couldn't be assed, given the events of the day.

To her credit, Cordelia did go around the cribs and stripped the dirty sheets from the mattresses. She needed something to do, alone in the cabin. And she didn't really want to smell rotting fruit. However long it took fruit to rot.

Balling up the messed linens, she tossed them into the sink and filled it. Letting the sheets soak, she rifled about the home in search of clean ones.

She hadn't found any by the time Rakash and his children re-emerged from the recesses of the cave. The triplets were dressed in fresh pajamas, scrubbed clean, and meticulously dried. Cordelia couldn't help but notice even their father had changed his clothes.Just a pair of brown trousers and a white tunic, belted at his waist.

Although, Cordelia did note, with curiosity, the thick fur that trailed along Rakash's outer arms to the back of his palms. Faintly, glancing at his furred feet, she wondered if his legs were just as hairy. It made sense, she supposed, in the mountains.

Instead of heading toward Cordelia, the man diverted to the kitchen. Something seemed off. Following his nose to the sweet, soapy scent, Rakash made a beeline to the sink. He eyed the mucky water, a frown already dancing over his lips as he shot a look at Cordelia. "What's this?"

"Their sheets are soaking," she explained with a sigh. Crossing her arms, staving off embarrassment from her failed attempt at domestic assistance, she looked away from Rakash. "I couldn't find fresh ones."

That answer surprised Rakash. To think Cordelia would consider such a small detail. Of course, he remembered and was planning to do it, but he was a father. It's what he had to do. At least, she had gotten it started for him. "I'll get the sheets. Keep an eye on the kids."

Cordelia watched as Rakash disappeared down the mountain hallway, squinting to see exactly where he went. She didn't want to have to repeat this issue, again. Totally not watching him leave, for other reasons. Nope.

A tug at her gown drew Cordelia's attention away from Rakash's swinging tail. Looking down, she found one of the triplets at her side, blue hair still damp. "Delwi?"

"Yes, Ebra?" Her eyes had just darted down to the little trolling, before glancing back up at Rakash's speedy return. Apparently, the linens weren't stored too far away. Cordelia tried to ignore her added sense of failure, but honestly couldn't tell where he'd had the fabrics hidden.

Ebra shoved the Every Book up toward Cordelia just as she glanced back down at them. "Wead."

"Weed?" Cordelia looked back down at him, feigning ignorance. She offered the little trolling a sweet smile, before tapping the cover. "No, that's a book, Ebra."

"No, no." Ebra's little face scrunched up, their nose wrinkling. "You wead!"

Still playing ignorant, Cordelia tilted her head to the side, eyebrows raised. "I what?"

Ebra gave a little growl, looking in annoyance from Cordelia to their siblings. Zalmir gave a helpless shrug, obviously unaware what the issue was. Kazri seemed to mouth something to Ebra, but the exchange went unnoticed. Although Cordelia caught the other trolling's attempt to help.

"Do you want me to rrread?" She over-emphasized the 'rrr' sound, trying to wordlessly get her point across.

The look Ebra gave her could have curdled milk. It only served to make Cordelia's smile broadened. The little trolling pursed their lips momentarily, before slowly saying, "Delwi rrr-ead."

Cordelia inclined her head, raising her eyebrows pointedly once more.

Another frustrated look passed over Ebra's face. They glanced to the other two trollings. This time, Kazri quietly whispered, "Pwease."

"Oh!" Ebra's gaze jumped back to Cordelia, a broad smile on their face. "Delwi rrrread, pwease."

Cordelia's wry smile curled at her lips, overlooking Ebra and their cohorts in crime. Between the three of them, there was the makings of a polite member of society, perhaps.

"Yes, I will read to you." Cordelia accepted the Every Book from Ebra's hands and situated herself on the floor, cross-legged. The trollings sat on the floor in front of Cordelia, facing her in a little semi-circle. They looked at her expectantly, prepared for a story.

She supposed Rakash simply told them the stories he wanted to tell, at any given time. Which meant it was imperative she gave them some control. "Is there a particular story you three would like? Or anything you want to hear about?"

Ebra, Kazri, and Zalmir exchanged looks. Tension lit through the air in a way it only can with siblings. At once, they all argued over the stories they preferred or denigrated one of their siblings' choices. Cordelia watched and listened, shrewdly.

Kazri wanted a story with princesses and adventure. Ebra howled that adventure was borning, and they wanted something funny and not-so-scary. Then Zalmir said they'd be up for anything - a fib, considering later comments - as long as there was no kissing or frogs, 'whatever those were.'

"I wan' a story with p'incesses an' fightin'!" Kazri was the first to pipe up, their little fists balled up and eyes alight with fire.

"Fightin' is boring!" Ebra howled, giving Kazri a shove. "I want somethin fun and funny! Maybe with a bear."

"As s'long as it don't haf frogs, whatever dey are," Zalmir mumbled watching Kazri and Ebra tussle, before adding with a disgusted face, "And no kissin'."

Cordelia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, shooting Rakash a dirty look when she heard him snort. He didn't notice her look, as he bent over the sink to clean his children's clothes. Hopefully, he felt it, Cordelia hoped. She wanted it to be like nails raking down his skin. Then again, seeing how he had surprised her with growing salacious comments, maybe that would just entice him.

Although part of Cordelia enjoyed that sort of attention, the other part had to recalibrate her expectations of her stay at his home. The fact he'd seemingly backpedaled so quickly made her wonder how lonely he was. Still, their little... moments of back-and-forth excited something in her that others hadn't quite met. And that made her uncertain.

Shoving those thoughts away for later examination, Cordelia tried to focus on the trollings. Namely finding them a story they'd agree on. It took some time, but eventually the three sprats agreed on a story involving a goblin, a knight, and a dragon. Cordelia read for quite awhile, the triplets rapt or giggling or making faces at the appropriate parts.

Rakash listened from the kitchen, where he scrubbed his children's fruit-encrusted clothes in the sink. He'd heard the whole 'wead' conversation, a flicker of his annoyance and relief skirting his thoughts through the ordeal. Why couldn't she just read to them?

He knew why, though. She was making them think and, obviously, remember their pleases. At least he wasn't Cordelia's sole target of agitation, he supposed, after a moment's thought. Though he was thankful his children didn't bear a greater brunt of it. Or maybe he should be thankful Cordelia seemed to be kinder to them than she was to him.

At least, by allowing her to challenge them, he didn't have to bear his children's disdain, as well.

When the sheets were washed and hung to dry near the fireplace, he moved to sit on his cot. Which happened to be behind Cordelia. As he moved into position, he noted how her body tensed, her back straightening when he settled onto the cot.

By the time Rakash made his way over, the story was nearly at its end. Zalmir had already toddled off, pulling out a wooden box from which blocks tumbled out. Ebra and Kazri continued to listen, until the former finally caved to playtime. Which left Kazri, listening until the end. When Cordelia said the final words and closed the book, the trolling said a quick 'tank you' before going to join their siblings.

She watched them go and continued to observe the three playing. Together, they were building something. They called it a castle, but it looked more like three very tall towers ready to fall over.

The longer she watched the kids, however, the more she felt Rakash's presence at her back. Didn't he have anything else to do? Obviously not, if he sat there quietly. But his presence at her back was unnerving her. Or maybe stoking that excitement from earlier.

Regardless, she didn't want either feeling to take root. Twisting in her spot, Cordelia glanced over her shoulder, straining to look up at him. "By the way, where should I rest?"

"You can have my cot, I'll use my room at night." Rakash was honestly looking forward to sleeping in his own bed again. After so many months sleeping near his children, the twinge in his back had been an ever present companion. Besides, it seemed perfectly reasonable to shove the duty off onto the quasi-nanny.

He nodded toward the hall. "During the night, if my kids need anything you can't do for whatever reason, come get me. My door is the teal one when you enter the mountain, on the far right."

"Wait! I don't even get my own room?" Cordelia balked, turning fully to face Rakash. She settled back on her heels, crossing her arms and glaring up at him.

Those warm, squirmy sensations jolted through her stomach as Rakash obviously looked over toward his children. She could see him judging if they were far enough away. Apparently they were, since he braced his elbows on his knees, leaning down to mutter at her, "You can get one, when you learn to beg better."

"You're wretched," Cordelia hissed, her eyes narrowed and her puckered lips twisting into a pout. The added sight of her kneeling at his knee played havoc in Rakash's imagination. She, too, was very much aware of how she must look. Which only served to make her cheeks pink once more. It was only sheer stubbornness that kept her from altering her pose or expression, though.

Although, as Rakash leaned closer to her, her obstinacy almost broke. Speaking in a low voice that sent shivers down Cordelia's back, Rakash nodded to the book still in her lap, "Why not use your little book to find the correct definition of 'beg?'"

Her reaction was immediate. Cordelia was distracted by the embarrassment eating across her cheeks, before she realized her body was in action. Before she could think, she swatted her book into Rakash's face.

The sound the troll gave was a strangled yelp, caught with something Cordelia almost could believe was a laugh. Before she could verify, however, Zalmir cried out from across the room, "Delwi! Why'd you do dat?"

She was still holding the book out, posed in her swing toward Rakash, who had leaned away. The two adults shared a look. Instantly, his demeanor shifted into one that clearly read 'don't you dare.' But that only made a broad grin tilt at Cordelia's lips.

"Oh, Ebra, Kazri, Zalmir!" She threw herself backward, onto the carpet theatrically. Pressing the back of her palm to her forehead, Cordelia drenched her words with melodramatic woe, "Your Da threatened to eat me again!"

Rakash immediately sat straight, his livid gaze on Cordelia before it bled into desperation as he looked to his children. "I did no such thing!"

"Da!" The chorus of the triplets made fatherly shame creep up Rakash's skin. To disappoint one's children, even if the accusation was false. A flash of mortification arced through Rakash, as his own children tisked his alleged actions.

It worsened as the children abandoned their blocks. Kazri went to Cordelia, comforting her in her obvious hour of need as she amped up her farce of obviously fake boo-hooing. They patted her on the shoulder, consoling her with quiet words.

Ebra and Zalmir approached their father. Zalmir with a serious look on their face and arms crossed. Ebra with their hands on their hips. Intimidating was the last thing the two were, in the face of their troll father, but they were certainly trying their best as they glared up at him.

"Da, don' tw'eten... t'renten," Ebra gave up saying 'threaten' with a sigh, before doubling back over their statement. "Don' say you et Delwi. Delwi fun."

"Yeah!" Zalmir added, intent on not only backing up their sibling but also having Cordelia's back.

Over his kids' heads, Rakash shot Cordelia a dirty look. She only returned it by sticking her tongue playfully out at him, Kazri unable to see the exchange with their face buried in Cordelia's shoulder for a hug.

That is how their little arrangement went for a week and a half for Cordelia and Rakash. Shenanigans and arguments and occasional heated exchanges that had nothing to do with anger. Neither went much further than taunting or teasing. A burn stoked and simmered in both of them, though.

All of that changed, however, when Ebra got sick.

---

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unravellingsilencehq · 1 year

Note

Could I also get some prompts for Cordelia, please? Thanks!

SONGS ON CORDELIA DAVIS' MIXTAPE COULD BE...

"And she'll tease you, she'll unease you. All the better just to please you. She's precocious, and she knows just what it. Takes to make a pro blush." - Bette Davis Eyes, Kim Carnes (1981) [x]

At school Cordelia was one of the most popular students, educated on how to work a room and make connections from an early age. You could stage your sample in the earlier years of her life at school or when she first came out as a debutante after leaving Hogwarts. Did Cordelia secretly think of running away during this period, or was she completely wrapped up in the world she was living in? You could flashback to this moment in her life and contrast it with the way she is now, maybe through her bumping into one of the people who no longer call her a friend, or her relaxing in her new life pondering how different it used to be.

"Don't let memory play games with your mind. She's a faded smile frozen in time. I'm still hanging on, but I'm doing it wrong. Can't kiss her goodbye, but I promise to try. - Promise to Try, Madonna (1986) [x]

tw: death

The death of INES MORENO [former best friend] really shook, Cordelia and helped send her on a path to be the woman she is today. You could write about this moment, staging the sample with Cordelia laughing with Ines and thinking about the way her life was to go and then leading up until Ines' attack. You could maybe stage the sample with Cordelia speaking to the Aurors about Ines, or if her family did have a funeral for her, at that. You could even consider how this impacted the work Cordelia does now and if Ines' attack has fuelled her to now work on the bites ward to maybe track her attacker down.

"Don't be cruel. Be a thing, sweet thing. As a rule, don't be sad. I left you in the street. You're pre-tab. I had to get away. Don't go away sad (get out)." - Just Go Away, Blondie (1978) [x]

The breaking point for Cordelia was finding out DECIUS FLINT [former partner/former close friend] was cheating on her. You could try and explore this moment from different angles, staging your sample during the conversation Cordelia had with Decius where he admitted he was being unfaithful, the moment she mulls it all over in her bedroom alone, or the first time she tells her family she's leaving them. You could explore Cordelia's thoughts during this period, how she feels letting go of her life and moving on and her feelings about breaking free and starting again in the world she lives in.

#bio rpg #bio roleplay #literature rp #literature rpg #harry potter rp #tw: death #p cordelia davis #prompts

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thisismyrandombloooog · 3 years

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Couples that end me as a bisexual (I’m attracted to both of them aaaaaah)

Hiccup and Astrid- How to Train Your Dragon (mostly when they’re older)

Haley and Nathan- One tree Hill

Lucas and Payton- One tree Hill

Spike and Buffy- Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Angel and Buffy- Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Angel and Cordy- Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel

Logan and Veronica- Veronica Mars

Cassidy/Beaver and Cindy Mackenzie/Mac - Veronica Mars

Katniss and Peeta- these two were my childhood

Quinn and Jake- Work it (these two, my dead gay heart)

Meredith Grey and Derek- Grey’s anatomy (or just Mer with anyone cause she’s so hot)

Veronica and JD- Heathers (I’m sorry they’re hot, crazy, but so so hot)

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supremeinlilac · 3 years

Text

And your touch burns in the light of the morning (NSFW)

Pairing: Cordelia Goode X Reader

Word count: 5,000

Warnings: Quite literally a sprinkling of everything, kink wise, if you dont like that then just don’t read because we’d be here forever if I listed them :)

For @mssallymckenna , Happy birthday!! I’m sorry I’m not here but here’s your present!! I literally threw as many of your kinks into this as possible so I hope you enjoy lmaoo <33

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out, darling?”

Cordelia’s hands rested on your shoulders as she spoke, making you jump slightly before relaxing into her touch and refocusing on the book that lay open before you. You were learning a difficult spell which Madison had betted that she’d be able to master before you; and you weren’t about to let her win. You didn’t like to ignore your girlfriend, but your pride was at stake, as well as quite a bit of money that you didn’t want to lose.

She cleared her throat in warning at your lack of a response, fingers pressing harder into your skin. When you still didn’t respond, she pulled your chair away from the desk where you sat, slammed the book closed and perched in front of you on the edge. Punctuating each and every word this time, she repeated herself slowly.

“Urghh I- Find out about what Deils?” You asked, trying to act as innocent as you could manage under her intense gaze. You had a very good idea about what she was talking about, pulse quickening at the thought of the older woman knowing of your blatant misbehaviour.

“Don’t play coy with me young lady. I won’t ask again.” Her tone was demanding, eyes narrowing and fingers tightening their grip on the side of the desk. Despite this, you could see the spark of playfulness behind her eyes, the tug of her lips into a subtle grin.

“I didn’t mean to, it sort of- just happened! I couldn’t help myself!”

“Of course you could help yourself. You knew that I expressly forbade you, but you just did it anyway didn’t you?” She’d leant forward towards you so that she could lazily trail a finger across the material of your trousers, knowing that her touch would distract you and cause mumbled responses and quickened breaths.

“I- well I- You were busy in the greenhouse and I thought you wouldn’t find out. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You rambled, words catching in throat at your haste to defend your actions. Cordelia had a look of amusement on her face at your theatrics.

“You won’t do what again?”

“Touch myself” You lowered your head in shame at having been caught out and having to audibly confess what you’d done. This meant that you missed the way Cordelia’s brow raised in surprise, smirk tugging at her lips and idea forming in her head.

“Tsk tsk tsk, we are a naughty girl, aren’t we?” Cordelia mocked, tilting your head back up to look at her while she spoke. “I mean, I was talking about how you snuck out to that party last weekend with the other girls after I explicitly told you not to, but I like your confession considerably more. Touching yourself? After last time?”

You visibly shuddered at her words. Last time she had caught you touching yourself, she’d spanked you, and you’d enjoyed yourself much more than you’d care to admit, so you couldn’t help but hope that this time would lead you down a similar path.

“Come here you.” The supreme motioned for you to go to the space between her legs, hands finding the curve of your ass and pulling you flush against her smoothly. You weren’t expecting to receive soft touches and deep kisses for your misbehaviour, but then again you could never read Cordelia’s motives, or what she had planned, even when it was happening. She was full of surprises. It was one of the reasons you’d been so thoroughly infatuated with her.

Her fingers found your neck, tangling in the hair at the nape and pulling backwards so the kiss was broken and your neck fell exposed with a small whimper. She hummed, fingers in your hair scratching your scalp lightly as she watched your eyes flutter closed under her touch.

Her lips fell lightly to your neck, sucking small bruises into delicate skin and humming when she drew out breathy moans from your lips. Pushing yourself further still into the desk, you let your hands find the back of her neck and the bare skin of her thigh where her dress had hiked up. Upon your touch, Cordelia withdrew herself from your neck completely, shaking her head at you with mock pity.

“Uh, uh. No touching. Bad girls don’t get to touch.” She wagged her finger accusingly, which made you scoff. You hated it when she was so patronising with you. It simply made you want to be a brat and wind her up further. Slowly, keeping eye contact and biting your lip to stop yourself from smirking, you held up your pointer finger between you both, and poked it firmly into her chest.

Before you could even blink, she was up off the desk and pushing you out of the room, walking so fast that you stumbled in front of her, mumbled protests falling freely from your mouth into the empty hallway. The house was empty, all the girls having gone out for the evening again, even Madison, despite your bet. You assumed that in her overconfidence she felt she’d be able to master the spell without a second thought.

Once in the bedroom, Cordelia was quick to remove her own flowing dress leaving her in a matching emerald green lingerie set, that clung to her pale skin and made your mouth go dry upon sight. She’d obviously been planning this in advance because you hadn’t seen this set before. The thought made your head spin with hungry anticipation. You, on the other hand, hadn’t been expecting to be caught off guard like this, so wore your simple lace underwear under your clothes.

Guiding your top over your head; Cordelia let herself pause, only to bring you in for another deep kiss with her hands at your back, still holding the blouse in her hands, before discarding it onto the chair. Nipping at your ear she whispered that she wanted you to undress slowly before her, so you did as she asked, hoping that steadfast obedience may work in your favour.

She sat on the bed, back propped against pillows as she eyed you across the room while you finished undressing before her. “Good girl.” She praised, patting her lap and motioning for you to come. You hovered yourself over her thigh, wary to do anything that might make her remember the whole reason behind you behind there in the first place.

She pushed you down with hands on your shoulders that quickly tangled into your hair to pull you into a kiss that swallowed the gasp you let out from the sudden pressure against your centre. She hummed into it, tongue dragging slowly across the roof of your mouth making noises sound in the back of your throat. After breaking from the kiss, your breathing was heavy, hips rolling against her thigh as her lips trailed sloppily down past your jaw to where she’d marked you before, licking a stripe and teasing the skin between her teeth lightly.

“Delia, please” you manage to squeak out, pleading with the older woman to do something. Anything. Dragging her nails excruciatingly slowly down your spine at your plea, they finally landed at your hips, thumb latching round the bone and testing her grip with a quick shove, making you inhale sharply at the friction against your clit.

The pace Cordelia set with her guiding your hips was slow and deliberate, holding you so your merely skimmed over the exposed flesh of her thigh and making you frustrated above her, whimpering into her ear and pressing affectionate kisses to her jaw to rush her along. Ignoring your needy whines, she kept the pace and pressure constant and unrelenting.

In a feeble attempt to gain leverage to grind against her thigh with, you reached your hands to grasp at her hips, fighting against her hands which controlled the pace and amount you rubbed against the bare skin of her thigh. Stilling her hands at your sides, Cordelia let out a low growl at the needy whine that left your throat and you felt the warmth of her magic in the air.

“What did I tell you? No. Touching.” With a simple twitch of her brow, your arms were pulled behind you, meeting in the middle of your back as you felt the invisible ties of her magic bind them together. Her use of magic to restrain you never failed to make completely soaked, knowing that she had complete control and could do whatever she wished.

“Now. Be a good girl and suck on my fingers to keep quiet.”

You took the fingers that Cordelia worked between your lips in and began to suck on them as she resumed to guide your hips back and forth with the other hand. She bluntly husked in your ear about how wet you already were on her leg, the flush creeping up the skin of your chest making you feel warm even while naked in the cool room. Her breath on the shell of your ear prompted goosebumps to prickle up your arms and a broken sigh to leave through your nose.

The supreme lifted her leg, angling it so the pressure on your clit was heightened at every pass made. Her hold on your hip was almost bruising as she increased the pace, dragging you faster across wet skin and pushing her fingers further into your mouth, gagging you more effectively as the gasps still slipped out.

Cordelia felt you clench on her thigh, saw your eyes flutter closed and head drop backwards slightly: your tell-tale signs that you were approaching an orgasm. She coaxed you to the edge, until not even her fingers in your mouth were muffling the desperate moaning sounds you were making; before stilling the movements of her hands at your hips altogether. The whine that bubbled out of your throat as your eyes snapped open to meet hers was embarrassingly loud, but you were too frustrated in having your release denied that you couldn’t care.

“Did you think I’d forgotten about what you’d done, hmm?” She teased, the pad of her thumb grazing over the bulge of your hipbone and the curve of your jaw, fingers stroking at your tongue slowly. You started to protest, opening your mouth in an attempt to bargain around the fingers she kept in there, but her firming grasp on your jaw stopped you from doing so.

“Did you think I’d let you come that easily? Tsk tsk.”

Cordelia brought her hand down sharply onto the smooth flesh of your ass, a surprised gasp falling from your lips despite her fingers, and you felt yourself ebb slowly away from the orgasm you were so close to reaching. She repeated her strikes, kneading your skin firmly in her hand while you let out muffled moans and small attempts to roll your hips.

“Go on then, grind on my leg again.” She prompted, thumb stroking at your jaw as she let go of your hip and took her fingers out of your mouth. “Don’t think this means that you can make any noise, my dear.” She warned, turning her attention to your chest, leaning forward and tongue poking out to circle the risen peak of a nipple, the still wet fingers coming up to pinch at the other breast.

You worked yourself up on her thigh as best as you could without the use of your hands to balance and purchase. You’d began to drip shamelessly down her leg, your arousal making it nearly impossible to find any friction even with your desperate motions. Cordelia’s unrelenting touch and suckling on your nipples made you arch towards her, head falling backwards and arms trying to free themselves from their bounds to aid in your efforts to get yourself off.

Inching closer and closer to your release again, you thought about fighting your tells so the supreme would be unaware of your pending orgasm, so you could simply come of your own accord. It did not take long for you to talk yourself down from the idea however, knowing that it would not be wise to go against her clear instructions again. This was meant to be a punishment; you clarified with a small pout.

As Cordelia pulled away from your body again, you whined at the feeling of pleasure dwindling and the throb between your legs dissipating, letting a strangled sob sound out through the room at having been denied for a second time. Cordelia using the flat of her palm to crack down firmly against your skin to quell the burn between your legs and extinguish the orgasm that was about to roll over you. Your pleading eyes bore into hers, tongue brushing and circling against the fingers in your mouth in an attempt to beg her to allow you to come.

“What did I say?” She tutted, fingers quickly being forced back between your lips with a reluctant whine from you. “I’d say it was a shame… But I rather like seeing you sucking on my fingers while I fuck you.”

Snaking her hand down your torso to flick at your clit, Cordelia ran two fingers between your folds, gathering your arousal and teasing at your entrance before sliding back up to play with your clit again. She tutted at the feeling of your wetness slick against her thigh and her fingers but the glint in her eye and the curl of her fingers against your tongue told you she loved that she was able to reduce you to this, time after time.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. Have I got you all worked up?”

A muffled groan was all you could answer with, grinding hopelessly down onto her hand while she played with you. She rubbed between your folds, watching closely for your tells, knowing it wouldn’t take much this time round for you to reach your peak, and she didn’t want you thinking you could come without her permission after your behaviour.

“Are you going to come?” She asks sweetly, speeding up her fingers against you when you nodded frantically, leaning into the digits in your mouth and closing your eyes to let yourself feel more.

Just as you felt the looming waves of another orgasm lapping at you, prompting whines and you to gently bite down on your girlfriend’s fingers, she stopped the movements against your clit completely. Pushing you backwards with the hand in your mouth, you fell off her lap and onto the bed, fingers slipping out of your mouth and allowing you to express your displeasure at being denied for a third time with a pout and a plead.

“Please- I – Please can I come? I need to.”

“You need to? Hmm, here’s what I think.” Tracing lazy patterns on your stomach, Cordelia cocked her head as if deep in thought, a grin she barely tried to conceal on her face at dragging out your waiting. You knew her patience had always been better than yours, steely and unrelenting which she used to her full advantage to reduce you to a begging mess before her. But you weren’t stupid. You could see the damp patch on her panties; you knew she was enjoying having to deal with your brattiness more than she’d say.

“I think that you don’t actually want to be bratty. I know you want to be my good girl really, don’t you?” Cordelia asked sweetly, pulling you back onto her leg and bouncing you slightly which drew a pitchy whine out of you as you nodded, eyes pleading with her to do something. “Use your words, baby.” She cooed, twirling your hair in a coil around her index finger and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, yes. I want to be good, I-” you were cut off by her fingers slithering between your legs and the release of your hands from their confines behind your back. You fidgeted in place, rising as to avoid her touch so you could form coherent sentences as a response. “I’ll do what you say, I promise.”

“Well then, be a good girl and fuck yourself on my fingers, then we’ll see about letting you come, sweetheart.”

A deep blush crept over your cheeks at her words, and you fought the urge to hide your face out of embarrassment. Cordelia loved it when she could get you all blushy and shy with her words, taking every opportunity to whisper dirty thoughts in your ear and watch you redden and fidget.

Even so, you sunk yourself back down onto her fingers slowly, allowing yourself to adjust momentarily to the initial stretch. She cooed in approval, mouth against your skin again as she set to work at the join of your neck to your collarbone, nipping along the bone the way she knew you liked it. She was always quick to soothe the bites with the flat of her tongue as she went along, trailing to the swell of your breasts.

With your hands on her shoulders for support, you gently lifted yourself and dropped back in a steady rhythm, arching towards her touch on your chest. She’d told you to not to try to silence yourself anymore, instead wanting to hear the sounds that her girl makes for her. After a while, Cordelia leaned back to admire how you rocked back and forth with her fingers buried inside you, adjusting her hands position so the flat of her palm could press firmly against your clit, making your movements jar.

“Look at you. Fucking yourself so well on mommy’s fingers.” She crooned, twirling one of your nipples between her cool fingers, using the others to stretch out within you while she watched your face grimace in pleasure. “There we go, such a perfect little thing for me.”

It didn’t take long for you to build yourself up to the edge once more, the edging making you frustrated and desperate, movements becoming frantic, gyrating against the fingers inside you. Your eyes had started to close on instinct before Cordelia reached out to stop you and cup your face softly, feeling you tighten around her.

“I don’t think so. Keep them open baby girl. I want to see your pretty little eyes when you cum all over my fingers.”

This was all the permission you needed, looking into her eyes as you came, yours glazing over with the intensity after having been denied, body arching as the bolts ran through you. Your chest glowed and heaved, sparkling with the beads of sweat in the light. Cordelia had taken over with the movements of her fingers within you, a persistent pace that she didn’t faulter in, even through the centre of your first orgasm. She brought you out of one side of your orgasm and into another, bigger one only seconds apart. The wave of your first orgasm was completely shadowed when the second crashed upon your shore, Cordelia having to hold you up as you crumpled in one yourself.

This time she let you come down from your high, protectively holding you against her front as your breathing levelled out and you stopped trembling. Slowly, she slipped her fingers out from within you and coaxed them gently between your teeth and into your mouth to clean off. Cordelia let out a moan of her own at the sight, as she always did when you cleaned up the mess you’d made for her. After you’d circled her fingers with your own tongue she took them into her own mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness of you that clung to her digits.

Once she was sure you were sufficiently replenished, Cordelia rolled you off her and laid your head on the pillows, kissing and wiping at your forehead affectionately, before disappearing from your view beside the bed. You thought she had gone to get water or wipes; both of which were staples in your aftercare. You allowed yourself to relax in the haze of your post orgasm, eyes closing as your hands flattened against the cool of the sheets beneath you. A rustling from behind you shattered the idea that you were done for the night; she wasn't running water in the bathroom like you'd initially thought. Instead, she sauntered back in front of you, and your eyes widened. She wore a harness that she’d fastened around her and held your favourite strap between her fingers, predatory smirk set on her lips on your expression.

“You want to do that now? Tonight?” You questioned, having already came twice, and being wary of how many more times you would with her brandishing the strap with that look in her eyes. Especially seen as you only just been punished for your previous actions.

“Of course baby, weren’t you the one that said you wanted to- No. Needed to come?”

You felt yourself nodding dumbly along with her words. Knowing full well that you’d agree blindly to just about anything she asked of you in order to get yourself firmly back into her good books. Squirming backwards so you were propped against the pillows, Cordelia settled on top of you, hands either side of your head to support her weight while she positioned herself between your legs.

As she entered you with the strap for the first time you let out a deep breath, wrapping your hands around her neck and leaning up to press lingering open-mouthed kisses to her throat, teeth grazing skin and eliciting breathy moans from the older woman. You hummed against her neck, feeling her swallow against your lips while she upped her pace inside you. The vulgarity of the noises that filled the room when she fucked you with the strap always made you flush with embarrassment but Cordelia was always saying how much she loved the sound. You’d learned to feel more comfortable in her presence the more you two did it together.

Being edged for the first time by Cordelia had meant you were already closing up onto the edge of release again, your centre swollen and sensitive to everything against it. Cordelia knew this, and cooed praise in between your kisses on her collarbone and the sound of your breathy gasps.

Sensing you were nearing, she brought one of her hands down your body again, nails dragging against skin in a way that left harsh red lines in their wake, but didn’t hurt you too much, the pain numbed over by the overwhelming feeling of her still at your centre. “Delia.” You moaned out, struggling to choke out more that a single word in your state, both warning and begging her simultaneously.

“Okay, baby. I know, I know. Let me take care of you.”

She fucked you all the way through your third orgasm, each of her thrusts sending deep bolts of electrical pleasure through your body, from your toes to your fingertips, so much that you felt like you were buzzing with the energy of it all. The next one was almost instantaneous; clambering and boisterous in its attempt to overpower the first. Your mouth hung open, breath hot and wet against her cheek as you clung you her like she did you, desperately to still her movements so she wouldn’t move against you.

After you’d come down from the fog of your most recent orgasm, Cordelia sat back between your legs, staring down at you through soft eyes at your state as you blinked back at her through sleepy, dazed eyes. One hand rested on the inside of the bend in your knee, the other clasped in yours tightly. You watched as she seemed to be thinking, head nodding subtly and lips twitching: something you noticed she did when deep in thought.

“Do you think you can come one more time for mommy? You look so pretty with your legs spread out like this.” She went to touch you again but you squirmed on the bed to avoid her fingers, legs snapping shut out of instinct which the supreme had to pry open again firmly. Your eyes had become glassy and unfocused, hazy after so much exertion that you’d lost some control over movements. Wiping the wetness from your eyes with the pads of your thumb, Cordelia pressed, wanting you to reply to her question with more than silence or a jerk of the head. “Baby?”

Shaking your head, body reactively shivering at the thought of being stimulated any further; you spoke between breathy gasps, arching your back to shy away from your girlfriends touch on your oversensitive skin. “I can’t, I- I don’t think I can do another one.”

“One more time baby, I know you can do it for me. My good girl.”

As soon as she used that tone of voice combined with those words, you knew you were going to come one last time for her. Nodding your head, you smiled tiredly at your girlfriend, repeating her words back in whispers, “your good girl.” Her praise always ignited a new heat within you, and this time was no different, breaths becoming heavy again with anticipation, elbows propped up behind you.

Her fingers closed around your ankles, pulling them to encourage you to wrap your legs around her waist, crossing against her back behind her. She loves when you clung to her like this, loved how deep she could get inside you at this angle and the inevitable noises she could prise from you with her strokes.

Cordelia’s thrusts were slow and deep and purposeful, hitting the same spot within you every time, allowing you to slowly drag your nails up and down the curve of her back, pulling her closer and into frequent and slow kisses. She took her time with you, cradling your face in her hands and making you feel as loved as possible in these last moments. Whispering hushed words of approval and affection into your ear as she peppered your face with kisses.

“Come for me baby girl, I’ve got you. You’re safe.” She eased, slowing her pace further as you fell deeply over the edge into the depths below, and she helped you ride out the ripples of pleasure that washed over you in your orgasm. Gradually decreasing her movements until she stilled within you after your body had relaxed and come down from the rigidity of what it had been, Cordelia pulled out from inside you carefully as to not cause undue mess of the covers below. Without her support, you flopped droopily back onto the bed, energy completely spent and chest heaving.

Cordelia held your hand in hers, thumb softly brushing over the dips of the knuckles and the smooth of the back of your hand, lips pressed to your shoulder. She slipped away from you and you heard her feet patter on the cold tiles of the bathroom before the familiar splashing of the water running in the sink, and the broken thumps of the draws being opened and rifled through.

“I’m so proud of you my angel.” Cordelia praised, when she returned mere seconds after, tipping the glass of water up to your lips that she brought with her and brushing the hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “You did so well for me.”

Once sure that you could hold the glass in your still trembling hands, she reached for the packet of wipes she’d put on the nightstand, shaking one out and using it to softly wipe at the sheen of sweat that glistened on your chest, applying less pressure to the areas that she’d allowed herself to mark up earlier. Repeating this carefully on and between your thighs, knowing how overstimulated and sensitive you were so taking extra time and care to be gentle, she used the time to tell you about her day between whispered praise and kisses pressed to your knuckles every time you reached to stroke her face. Lastly, she cupped your face in her fingers, bending to nudge your nose with her own before taking a wipe and swiping it over your forehead, smiling down at you and encouraging you to sip at the water.

Making sure you were comfortable, your girlfriend set about quickly cleaning herself off and washing the toy before slipping out of her underwear and quietly making her way back over to the bed where you’d pulled the covers up so they draped lazily over your abdomen.

Cordelia shuffled into the bed behind you, pulling your back flush to her front and resting her head in the crook of your neck. You relaxed into her touch and nuzzled your head backwards into hers in an act of silent affection. Nothing beat the two of you cosied up to each other in bed, after sex or otherwise, because it was a time you both felt safe. Completely loved and appreciated in each other’s embrace. You both lay in silence, basking in the warmth of the other.

After a while, you twisted in her arms, turning over to face her so that your bodies were pressed together and faces mere inches apart. You could feel the tickle of her breath on your nose, scrunching it up before craning to press a kiss to Delia’s forehead.

“Tomorrow. I get to top you.” You concluded, ignoring the amused look that Cordelia immediately wore, kissing her again before she could protest. “Please.” You added quickly, bottom lip jutting out into a pout while you gave her the cutest face you could muster without giggling.

“You can try, my little one, you can definitely try.” She laughed at your pout, reaching to pinch you cheek lightly before starting to get out of the bed. You sat up in confusion, watching her pull her silk dressing gown over her shoulders instead of coming to sleep. Looking over at your confused face, she smiled, extending her open palm towards you.

“Now, how about I teach you that spell.”

taglist : @pearplate @billiedeansbottom @pluied-ete @toujours-ensanglante@mssallymckenna @okpaulson @magnificent-paulsonn @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @shineestark ,,if you want to be added just send me an ask :))

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #Cordelia Goode #cordelia goode x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs imagines

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minaslittleone · 3 years

Text

With Golden String

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable

"With golden string our universe was brought to life, that we may fall in love every time we open up our eyes" - Sun by Sleeping At Last

Word count: ~1200

For as long as she could remember Wilhemina had despised mornings. She would inevitably rise before the sun was any more than a glow on the horizon, unable to remain in the same position for more than a few hours. She could not remember a time when her first thoughts of the day were anything other than taking stock of today's degree of discomfort. Daybreak served as nothing more than a cruel reminder that her days would never look normal, that she would never be able to take for granted that she would simply roll out of bed and begin her day. No, daybreak was a fresh negotiation each day, the outcome of which could never be taken for granted.

And all of that remained true. Some days she would wake so stiff and sore that the physical act of extracting herself from the covers was challenging. Other days would seem better until she dared put weight through her troublesome left hip only for it to buckle underneath her. Some days there was only the familiar full ache in her bones that felt increasingly like an old companion. But every one of these days was made better and easier by the fact that each of them began with the sight of Cordelia curled tightly into her side.

It would never fail to amuse her how the measured and dependable supreme would become so childlike in her sleep. While Wilhemina remained unmoved throughout the night, Cordelia was a fidgety sleeper. On the rare occassion her girlfriend would make it to bed before her Wilhemina would inevitably find her sprawled at some unnatural angle, arm thrown haphazardly across her face and sheets in utter disarray. At first the disorder had irritated her on principle but it melted instantly as Cordelia had curled herself tightly into Wilhemina's side, letting out a contented little sigh and finally beginning to settle.

It never mattered how they fell asleep or who was the first to retire, Cordelia would find her way to her. And there she would stay. If Wilhemina shifted even the smallest amount, Cordelia followed, refusing to be parted from her. The supreme had once rationalised her restless slumber in Wilhemina's absence in the same manner, she missed her and was seeking her out, as if her embrace was so obviously worthy of such endeavours.

However the determination with which she sought Wilhemina's embrace was nothing compared to her desire to remain there once she had located it. Especially once the sun started to peak beyond the horizon.

Discovering that Cordelia was most assuredly not a morning person had certainly also been a surprise to Wilhemina, and try as she might to pretend that this frustrated her, she couldn't help but look forward to tenderly coaxing her girlfriend into the morning light each day, much to her displeasure.

And so while Wilhemina would still spend her first few moments of the new dawn taking stock, gently stretching and testing to see what the day held for her, she now did this with one hand gently threading through her girlfriend's hair, softly planting the seeds of the new day within her.

Steadily, Wilhemina's caresses would become more deliberate, quietly suggesting to the most powerful witch on earth that the day was upon her. In response Cordelia would inevitably burrow herself deeper into Wilhemina's side, brow furrowed, soft mumbles falling from her lips.

"Delia, sweetheart"

The supreme only whined in response.

"Come on honey, you need to get up" Wilhemina tried again. However Cordelia was not that easily convinced.

"Why?"

"Because if you're so much as minute late Madison will relish the opportunity to speculate as to what may have delayed you, and neither one of us want to spend the day dealing with that."

Cordelia threw her arm across Wilhemina's body, drawing her closer as if she might just be able to escape the pull of her responsibilities if she could only crawl deep enough into her girlfriend's embrace.

Wilhemina felt more than heard what sounded suspiciously like "it's not fair" grumbled into her torso as she brought her arm up to envelope the supreme, nails raking gently along her spine.

"Don't blame me dear, I'm not the one who set morning gathering for 8 am" Wilhemina tenderly reminded her.

"No you probably would have set it for 5 am" Cordelia groused, drawing an affectionate chuckle from her girlfriend. "Besides I did that before I had you to cuddle with, it's so much harder to get up with you here."

"You're very sweet, honey, but that won't get you out of getting up"

"Uggh" Cordelia moaned, throwing her arm across her face in frustration. "Can't you tell them I'm sick?"

"You're the supreme dear, you don't get sick" Wilhemina reminded her.

"That you're sick then" Cordelia bargained.

Wilhemina could only roll her eyes at her girlfriend's antics. "I don't sick either, germs are afraid of me, remember?"

"You wish"

"That's no way to talk your girlfriend, who's only crime is trying to protect you from the inquisition of a few dozen young witches" Wilhemina chided.

"How noble of you" Cordelia teased.

Wilhemina tilted her head down capturing Cordelia's lips in her own, effectively silencing any further cheek. "I'll have you know, my dear, I am never anything but noble"

"I don't know" Cordelia murmured against her lips, "your intentions last night hardly seemed noble."

She felt a coy smile blossom across Wilhemina's mouth. "I didn't hear any complaints" she teased, the slightly husky tone of her voice settling deliciously low and warm in Cordelia's stomach.

Wilhemina couldn't help but sigh contentedly as Cordelia's eyes finally fluttered open, those deep chocolate brown irises would never stop being her favourite sight.

"Hi" she whispered, drawing a soft chuckle from Cordelia.

"Hi yourself" Cordelia replied, punctuating her response with an affectionate peck against Wilhemina's lips before resting her forehead gently against her girlfriend's.

"Do we really need to get up?"

"You know we do dear."

"As much as I love the girls, I wish we could just stay like this" Cordelia murmured. "This is the best part of my day."

"I thought you hated waking up" Wilhemina scoffed.

"I hate getting up" Cordelia specified. "I love waking up to you."

Wilhemina felt something warm and safe bloom within her at the idea of being so genuinely and unapologetically loved. The idea that simply just existing in each other's company was something beautiful and cherished filled her with so much hope, that maybe, just maybe, inspite of all her faults and rough edges that maybe she was enough. That with her guard lowered and imperfections on display that she was worthy of something as sweet and tender as this.

"Mine too, honey, mine too"

Taglist: @lovelypeasantjellyfish @lilypadscoven @lucyintheskywithxanax @in-cordelias-coven @stayeviildarling

#sarah paulson #wilhemina venable #cordelia goode #mina x delia

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belle-keys · 3 years

Note

Unpopular opinion: I like Matthew and Cordelia friendship? I think it be unhealthy for it to turn romantic, yes, but they were good honest friends to each other as all the crap was coming down on them in Chain of Iron. It’s about the honesty that they were able to have with each other that is the basis for their relationship and the fact they are quite similar in personality (James has a type in saying). That being said Matthew crush on Cordelia is so comp het it hurts.

Matthew isn’t a bad friend, or at least he hasn’t been a bad friend to the merry thieves for all their friendship, HES depressed and suffering but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be abandoned because he doesn’t notice Thomas has a crush on Alastair. similarly, Matthew and James are good parabaratai and the fact James WASNT mad at Matthew for leaving means he understands why things were happening and doesn’t fault them for doing what they thought was right with the facts they had…why is it hard for the fandom to understand then.

James doesn’t need to forgive Grace, or want to be around her just because she was forced to do things. He’s aloud to dislike her for as long as he Damn well wants too.

Uh…also (slaps Matthew) this boy can hold so much bpd diagnosis in him.

Charles is gonna be the first of the family to learn what happened with Matthew and Charlotte and like he’s gonna be mad, but I think he will hold his secret. I just generally think Charles and Matthew will get closer later in life (Chain of thorns). Frankly? I think Charles, when he wasn’t with his mother, an interesting angle would be him being third parent to Matthew in their younger years but instead of accepting the responsibility like let’s say Julian did, he grew bitter at Matthew over it, especially as they they grew up and both realized they were queer and like went two different directions.

Cordelia is a great protagonist YOUR ALL JUST MEAN! Shes held to such an impossible standard sometimes and it infuriates me.

None of the tlh Herondales would begrudge Tessa “moving on” with Jem and her children in modern times.

Clary also isn’t a bad protagonist! She’s obviously a first attempt by a young author but she’s not BAD! Shes quite a badass and always spoke her mind, it’s HER story not Jace and that’s pretty cool.

The fact that all the books are trilogies now fucking SUCK! she should go back to non ridged books, too many plotlines to stuff into a trilogy.

Aight there is a lot going on here:

1. I agree about the Matthew thing, in that Fairstairs is a good friendship and I actually think it would be a nice romantic interlude but I damn well know it isn’t gonna be endgame. I don’t want it to be. That being said, Matthew and Cordelia’s relationship is honest and good.

2. Heronchild bestest parabatai, wbk. I don’t think Matthew is a bad friend either. It’s not a matter of the black or white where a character is “good” or “bad” in my book. It’s just a really complicated situation.

3. Sure, James doesn’t need to forgive Grace. He’s entitled to hate her forever if he wants. But, I love Grace, and I wish that he won’t.

4. I’d stay away from, uh, diagnosing Matthew with a mental disorder of that sort. I just don’t feel comfortable being like “Character X is bipolar” if it wasn’t explicitly stated or if I’m not a mental health professional, especially because Reasons.

5. Yeah, I agree that Charles is redeemable. That’s something I’m 90% sure will happen if he doesn’t die.

6. Yes, about Cordelia.

7. Yes, about the Herondales.

8. Yes, about Clary. She’s generic asf, but as you said, a clear “first attempt” at writing.

9. Nah, I love the trilogies tbh. I love the separation of the major plot into three acts, and I think Cassie will find a way to tie everything together well by the end, especially since we have SOBH.

I wish I could go into more detail about my thoughts on each of these as I usually do, but your ask was PACKED so my responses for each had to be clipped.

Sorry :(

#tsc ask #ask #anon ask #books #the last hours #tlh #ya books #chain of iron #chain of thorns #chain of gold #cordelia carstairs #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #matthew fairchild #james herondale

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sunnydaleherald · 1 year

Text

The Sunnydale Herald newsletter, Tuesday, January 24

Xander: But while we hang here doing nothing, there's a human werewolf walking around out there, probably making fun of us. Willow: The way werewolves always do. Oz: But there's really no way to tell who it is. Xander: Oh, sure there is. Giles knows stuff, and I'm practically an expert on the subject. Willow: On account of once you were a hyena? Xander: I know what it's like to crave the taste of freshly killed meat, to be taken over by those uncontrollable urges. Buffy: You said you didn't remember anything about that. Xander: I said I didn't remember anything about that. Look, the point is, is I have an affinity with this thing. I can get inside of its head. I'm a big, bad wolf. I'm on the prowl. I'm sniffing, I'm snarling, I'm a slobbering predator, I'm... Wait a second! It's right in front of us. (Oz's eye go wide with the fear of being recognized) It's obvious who I am. I'm Larry! (Oz breathes a sigh of relief) The guy's practically got wolf-boy stamped on his forehead. You got the dog bite, you got the aggression, not to mention the excessive back hair.

~~Buffy Episode #27: "Phases" ~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor! Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here. If you saw the phrase "HTML template" in our previous calls for editors and that was what made you decide that Herald duties aren't for you, you may be glad to hear that we've set up an alternative posting process!

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Other Version (Buffy, T, The Case Files of Young Kindaichi xover) by madimpossibledreamer

Renewal (Buffy/Spike, Angel/Cordelia, unrated) by Priceless

Out of the Woods (Buffy/Spike, T) by honeygirl51885

[Chaptered Fiction]

Break Even Ch. 1-15/15 (COMPLETE) (Buffy/Spike, G) by violettathepiratequeen

Who Shat on the Floor at My Sister's Wedding? Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, G) by thoughtsofahouseplant

Bound Chapter 36: Sins of Omission (Buffy/Spike, M) by spnae

Seph, Chapter 9 (Buffy/Spike, M) by

Mirror, Mirror, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, E) by scratchmeout

Après (Buffy/Spike, E) by Ninereeds Chapter 25-26

Shell, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, M) by TwilightChild

The Odd Couple, Chapters 1-15 (Buffy/Spike, E) by honeygirl51885

Redefine the Words, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, T) by violettathepiratequeen

A Certain Mystical Nexus Ch. 7 (Xander, Natalie French, E) by Sithicus

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Spike by frolis-maneuver

[Reviews & Recaps]

Video: ROCK BOTTOM? - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Reaction - 6x10 - Wrecked by TheLexiCrowd

[Fandom Discussions]

Buffy pulled from Heaven… by testtheworld1

season 4: leaving the major emotional conflicts unresolved. by all-seeing-ifer

for the Ship Ask game: Faith - Wesley OR Faith - Willow OR your choice of Faith by faith-thee-slayer

Faith x Willow for the ship game! by faith-thee-slayer

Look - I’ve said this before: Metaphors can have multiple meanings or representations by girl4music

It’s just that Spike as a human was a romantic. by testtheworld1

I love Dawn too! by nevergonnabemuchmorethanweather

I never picked up on the wesley/william and then cordelia/drusilla similarities but YEAH by transangelus

talk about Faith and Angel? by faith-thee-slayer

Go Ask Malice by stellernorth

xander and my fist on his face by juniperhillpatient

for the ship game, willow/tara by juniperhillpatient

Can you give me some buffy fanfic recs? by disco-tea

Spuffy style Reading Challenge - #18: Pick Your Poison Reading Challenge by mcgnagallsarmy

the absurdity of Giles pretending to have liked the Bay City Rollers by earhartsease

I thoroughly enjoy the Domestic!Spike angle some fics have. by emeryya

Fuffy by juniperhillpatient

Worst Thing Each Character Has Done by AsterialPuppet

The age of the chosen ones by ThickPeanut136

British people: who would you say had the best fake British accent? by FrenchBlondie22

S4 E22 Restless - Is Dawn buying ice cream? by Physmo55

I hate that the writers included this line. by Opening_Knowledge868

The most agonizing scene in the whole series that did not include a death by GoblinQueenForever

Buffy fight sequences in S5 by Breadfan4

Gem of Amara and Bangel by MaterialGorlx

Me watching Restless... by Medium_Cancel_235

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #fanfiction #fan art #meta

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katatonicimpression · 3 years

Text

Neurodivergence in Generation X Part 2:

The Rich Bitch

There is one other obvious narrative trope that Monet fills, one that is not typically associated with neurodivergence.

Monet, when we first meet her and in her later, restored state, is a bitchy, bratty, pretty rich girl.

As rare as it is to see depictions of female characters with autism, it is perhaps even more rare to see those women portrayed as pretty and feminine. And the “spoiled bitch” angle seems completely out of left field, right? Right?

Lemme take you on a wild ride…

Monet is kind of a Bitch

Monet is often more than a little bit bitchy. She makes snide comments, chides the others (especially Jubilee and Paige) over trivial things and is overall very abrupt and inconsiderate.

A lot of these comments are out of the blue and unmotivated.

And they also often read like a man’s version of what a bitchy teenage girl is like.

Now the idea of an autistic or autistic-coded character being a bit mean isn’t new (e.g. Sheldon Cooper in the Big Bang Theory or Sherlock Holmes in Sherlock), but it is rare to see this feminine pretty-bitch type get associated with autism. I actually think it’s a really fun idea, and a better fit to be honest.

Sheldon is a dick - he’s a misogynist and he’s just awful to everyone - and he’s also autistic-coded, but these two aspects of his character don’t interact in any way that interests me. He mostly feels like he’s fully aware of how he comes across, but he believes he’s superior to others so he doesn’t care. Whereas, I think the mean-girl bitchiness of someone like Monet has more room for nuance. Namely, this vaguely sexist bitchy mean-girl trope can be very effective at depicting someone who’s difficult to get on with, but isn’t really aware of why that is.

Obviously, bitchiness isn't an autistic trait, but if you're going to write an autistic or autistic-coded character as bitchy, then it's good to incorporate the different ways in which an autistic person might engage with others into their bitchy behaviour.

Okay, to explain this I’m going to talk about Buffy for a minute.

Cordelia Chase

Cordelia, as she’s portrayed in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (not so much in Angel) is really easy to read as autistic. I swear. Bear with me.

Cordelia is a pure manifestation of the “dumb bitch” trope BUT because this trope is made up of an amalgamation of stereotypes about teenage girls, she comes across as more complicated than that. She’s written to be dumb, frequently misunderstanding very basic things BUT with the occasional joke about how she’s actually very successful academically. She’s one of the “popular” kids BUT it’s clear no one likes her and the only real friend she makes is Xander who, unfortunately, treats her pretty badly. She’s loud and often out-going BUT she is also clearly very self-conscious, fixated on superficial “girly” things. She seems almost desperate to fit in. She’s always saying really nasty things BUT it comes across like she’s trying to make a joke, but no one ever laughs. In contrast, Xander’s remarks towards her seem intended to hurt her. She is shown (through mind-reading shenanigans) to have basically no filter and just says whatever she’s thinking.

Cordelia is, undeniably, someone who has difficulty connecting with other people. She frequently misunderstands social situations and speaks inappropriately. To me, this makes her really easy to read as neurodivergent. Her shitty comments really do sound like attempts at banter from someone who doesn’t quite get the unspoken rules of the game. Her obsession with “shallow”, “girly” things is easy to interpret as hyperfixation.

Now, obviously none of this is intentional but I think it’s a fun way to read the character. Cordelia comes across as way more relatable than the writers intended (or at least how one specific writer intended) in no small part because she clearly struggles socially. What’s so interesting about it is, to me, how this feminine “bitchy” character is a much more relatable depiction of how an autistic person can come across as mean than any Sheldon or Sherlock. She really does feel like someone who’s abrasive but isn’t really in control of that.

I think a lot of this works with Monet too. She’s clearly hyper-concerned with things that the others deem trivial and shallow. Her mean comments are definitely coming from someone who doesn’t get why they’re inappropriate. Yes, she has an ego, but she’s more layered than just “up herself and mean to people”. She struggles to get on with people due to behaviour that other people have decided is bitchy. I can really relate to that.

Emma Frost

Monet doesn’t really get on with anyone at first. Jubilee in particular doesn’t like her, ironically preferring Penance to Monet. Penance, despite never speaking and seemingly not understanding pretty much everything going on around her, is preferable to Monet because at least she never says the wrong thing. But then again, Monet is actually pretty catty towards Jubilee so it’s understandable that there’d be some difficulty. What’s more interesting I think is the relationship between Monet and Emma Frost.

Emma is hostile towards Monet from day one. She openly doesn’t trust her and dislikes her. While she’s right that Monet is keeping secrets from them, this isn’t actually why she has a problem with her. She thinks she’s too confident and doesn’t feel she’ll be able to manipulate her. She literally says that.

She also offers Penance up to Emplate in a pretty nasty move. She wasn’t intending to go through with it but still. Emplate tortured Penance for years so it counts in the “Shitty things Emma’s done to Monet” column.

What’s interesting about this is that it isn’t anything Monet actually does that makes Emma dislike her initially. She’s never mean to Emma like she is to Jubilee. She clearly had nothing against her. Emma just doesn’t like the way she acts, thinks she’s not ashamed of the things she should be ashamed of.

There is, of course, an immediate racial reading of this. Emma Frost is the quintessential gaslight/gatekeep/girlboss wealthy white lady and her attitude towards Monet is something a lot of Black women tend to receive from women like her. She puts Monet down out of her own insecurities in a way that just screams “racist micro-aggression”. I’m not Black but from what I understand, this phenomenom (being interpreted as a threat, as over-confident and as needing-to-be-taken-down-a-peg) is something a lot of Black women experience and it is especially true for neurodivergent women who are even more likely to be mis-interpreted as aggressive or “trouble”.

So, I think this is a genuinely cool aspect to the series. Its depiction of (what I’m sure is intended as) simple catty bitchiness is able to (imperfectly) reflect a lot of real experiences of autistic women. Namely, alienating others without realising, being socially isolated from your peers, being unfairly interpreted as a bitch due to difficulties in reading people, and being the subject of unnecessary and arbitrary disdain simply because you don’t act the way you’re “supposed to”.

Speaking of social isolation...

-------------------------

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

#x-men #x men #generation x #monet st. croix #monet st croix #autistic representation #autism in media #rants #penance

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ecclais-fouoras · 3 years

Text

Oh mon amour

Cordelia x reader

"I'm not doing that"

"Babe pleeeeease"

"No...hey...you can whine and try to buy me with your sexy ass but that's not going to work"

"Mmm...are you sure about that"

It was late in the evening, the both of you had gotten to sleep a few moments ago and Cordelia was already straddling you with her back to your front and pressing her ass against your lap. Your hands had found her neck from that angle she was flush against you which you couldn't deny it made you very hot

"No.. you won't get me to agree this easily...no matter how much I want to take you right here like this" you told her as a warning before squeezing her neck gently, and making her face you.

"Y/n i just want to hear it once .."

"Just because I'm french doesn't mean I know 'la vie en rose' by heart jeez"

"So you don't know the song"

" I do, but I won't sing it"

"I just want to hear you sing a french song for me"

She wined as she buried her face in your neck. "It'll help me fall asleep"

"And since when do you need that to fall asleep Cordelia"

"It's been a hard day okay..I...i just want someone to make me feel safe...please y/n.."

Cordelia was always so strong for everybody else, and you were the only one she let herself be this fragile with.

Her soft voice and the sweet strokes she was making with her fingers on your nape was enough for you to give in.

"...fine...but I want to sing you something else"

"Okay... whatever you want y/n"

"Here...lay down on my shoulder"

You both scooded down so you could sleep, and you began while playing with her hair.

Bien sûr, nous eûmes des orages

Vingt ans d'amour, c'est l'amour fol

Mille fois tu pris ton bagage

Mille fois je pris mon envol

Et chaque meuble se souvient

Dans cette chambre sans berceau

Des éclats des vieilles tempêtes

Plus rien ne ressemblait à rien

Tu avais perdu le goût de l'eau

Et moi celui de la conquête

( translation here )

Mais mon amour

Mon doux, mon tendre, mon merveilleux amour

De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour

Je t'aime encore tu sais

Je t'aime

Moi, je sais tous tes sortilèges

Tu sais tous mes envoûtements

Tu m'as gardé de pièges en pièges

Je t'ai perdue de temps en temps

Bien sûr tu pris quelques amants

Il fallait bien passer le temps

Il faut bien que le corps exulte

Finalement, finalement

Il nous fallut bien du talent

Pour être vieux sans être adultes

Oh, mon amour

Mon doux, mon tendre, mon merveilleux amour

De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour

Je t'aime encore, tu sais

Je t'aime

Et plus le temps nous fait cortège

Et plus le temps nous fait tourment

Mais n'est-ce pas le pire piège

Que vivre en paix pour des amants

Bien sûr tu pleures un peu moins tôt

Je me déchire un peu plus tard

Nous protégeons moins nos mystères

On laisse moins faire le hasard

On se méfie du fil de l'eau

Mais c'est toujours la tendre guerre

Oh, mon amour

Mon doux, mon tendre, mon merveilleux amour

De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour

Je t'aime encore tu sais

Je t'aime

By the end she was sound asleep, but you could feel your arm wet from the few tears she shed. You snuggled closer giving her a quick peck on the lips before mumbling "oh...cordelia, my love, my sweet, my tender, my Wonderful love, I love you still you know, I love you...sweet dreams baby"

She rolled back in her sleep, you pressed her tightly against your front, her body fitting yours completely, like two pieces of the same puzzle finally coming together, your breath synchronized and your mind slowly drifting off to slumber.

#sarah paulson fanfiction #cordelia x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #sarah paulson

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cullxtheherd · 3 years

Text

@storiesung continued from [x]

“I don’t know, baby.” Angelus lingers in the shadows that the wide, open expanse of the atrium provides him. He laughs humorlessly and incredibly pleased with the way the sound reverberates, carrying over, “You don’t sound so sure of yourself.”

Slowly he makes his way up. In any other fast-paced, kill-or-be-killed situation he would take them by two, flinging himself to the peak. But? This is very different. A tongue runs the length of his canines, pricking. The thin, nearly coagulated rivulet of blood that escapes is nowhere near satisfying and he growls, lightly; unable to stop himself.

“Eenie,” Angling his head back and pitching his nose in the direction of the corridor he scents, “Meenie . . .” Her scent lingers in the conjunction between the halls, “Miney,” Not one to care for anything Angel values he kicks in a nearby door, “Oh . . .” Though he knows better he plays along, speaking to an empty room, “That’s disappointing.”

Hands in pockets he roams, “I do, really just: love these little games, Cordelia.” Angelus speaks loudly enough to be heard over the natural background noise of the Hyperion and the rushing sound of her heartbeat in his ears. “Predator versus prey,” Lingering by the door he knows she is behind he runs a pointer against the grain of the wood, “That timeless, classic battle- gotta’ say,” Knowing that she is more than likely cowering in the shadow his form creates under the space between the door and the carpeting he smiles, widely, “It really gets me going.”

Gripping the handle he turns it, knob squealing in protest, “I can not even begin to tell you how much I appreciate that sensation,” The lock and jamb are broken enough to let him in but he holds on for a tense, blood-curdling moment. For all of his nearly-pent-up rage he has managed not to shift- he wears Angel’s face well.

#ghhfklhngl sorry this took a long time #it has been a few WEEKS my gosh #also skndskjn this thread hoo babey its gonna be somethin #storiesung

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shadowhuntertrash · 4 years

Text

High Notes

Relationships:

Thomas Lightwood x Alastair Carstairs

James Herondale x Matthew Fairchild

Background Lucie Herondale x Jesse Blackthorn

Also obviously I own nothing but the plot. Characters are from Cassandra Clare

Chapter Four

Everyone had a lot of pent up energy on the trip. Cordelia and Lucie had been laughing and joking for the past hour while Matthew had fallen asleep almost immediately after we left. James was talking to Christopher about something while playing with Matthew’s fingers. Christopher was enthusiastic as ever.

Thomas sat beside Alastair who was plucking at the black guitar resting in his lap. “You want to play something?” Thomas asked him kindly. Thomas loved hearing Alastair play, it put him in a calm place.

Alastair chuckled and shrugged. “Sure, do you want to sing?” Thomas blushed and looked down laughing awkwardly. “Um, I don’t really sing. Not often anyway.” Alastair’s eyes lit up, “Oh well then you must Thomas. I do not think I’ve ever actually heard you sing.” Matthew made a noise of conformation from across the room.

“That would be accurate. Thomas doesn’t sing in front of people. We only ever hear it when he’s showing up a new song.” Thomas blushed at the attention. He really didn’t want to sing but he knew that if Alastair asked him again he wouldn’t be able to say no.

“Alright Lightwood now I really want to hear you sing.” Alastair said smiling challengingly at him. Thomas scoffed. “Okay fine. What are you going to play?” Alastair smiled brightly and looked away for a moment to think. “You choose I know the guitar part to most of y’alls songs.” Alastair turned away blushing as he said it but Thomas found it endearing. “Okay what about,” Thomas trailed off thinking.

“What about In My Blood?” Thomas asked shyly. He had written In My Blood during the period of time when he was questioning his sexuality. He had been having a really hard time and on top of that when he realized he liked boys he had been fed up with the world. His sister had been there for him. She had reminded him that it was okay and it would be okay and that his family would always be there for him. He had written the song when he realized that his family was strong, they had overcome so many obstacles, and he was part of that family so he had it in his blood to be strong.

Alastair smiled and started playing the beginning chords as Thomas sat back and closed his eyes before clearing his throat and singing.

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up

But I just can't

It isn't in my blood

Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing

I'm overwhelmed and insecure, give me something

I could take to ease my mind slowly

Just have a drink and you'll feel better

Just take her home and you'll feel better

Keep telling me that it gets better

Does it ever?

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up

No medicine is strong enough

Someone help me

I'm crawling in my skin

Sometimes I feel like giving up

But I just can't

It isn't in my blood

I'm looking through my phone again, feeling anxious

Afraid to be alone again, I hate this

I'm tryna find a way to chill, can't breathe, oh

Is there somebody who could help me?

It's like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up

No medicine is strong enough

Someone help me

I'm crawling in my skin

Sometimes I feel like giving up

But I just can't

It isn't in my blood

I need somebody now

Someone to help me out

I need somebody now

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up

But I just can't

It isn't in my blood

It isn't in my blood, oh, oh

It isn't in my blood

I need somebody now

It isn't in my blood

I need somebody now

It isn't in my blood

Thomas doesn’t open his eyes until Alastair plays the last chord. When he does everyone’s watching him. Thomas gulps and laughs nervously. “Sorry I know that wasn’t very good. I really should stick to songwriting.” They continued to stare at him and he felt heat rushing towards his face.

Thomas clears his throat and Lucie snaps out of her stupor first. “Darling that was amazing.” She said quietly, still staring with wide eyes. Cordelia who’s sitting next to her nods emphatically. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Cordelia says blinking quickly as if to clear her thoughts. Matthew nods and has a proud look on his face.

“If he wasn’t so shy I honestly probably would be guitarist and he’d be the singer.” Thomas scoffs, “As if Matthew.” Matthew rolls his eyes and James shakes his head. James always asks him to sing but he always refuses so he was sure that it was suspicious that he had done it without much prompting for Alastair. James winks at Thomas and Thomas glares. Damn now James knew too.

Thomas wouldn’t be shocked if Matthew had already told James about him like Alastair, Matthew told James everything. It was common knowledge that if you tell Matthew something it was the same thing as telling James.

Thomas looked away from them and found himself looking at Alastair who was still sitting silently regarding Thomas with curious eyes. Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “I have to say Lightwood that wasn’t what I expected.” Alastair said quietly, his eyes not faltering as he watched Thomas.

Thomas chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Alastair smiled slowly before shaking his head and looking away. “Definitely a good thing.” Thomas smiled and watched him for a second longer before turning away. Alastair had the ability to turn Thomas into a smiling idiot by a single look but that didn’t mean Thomas would let him see it.

Thomas turned back to Alastair with a smug smile, “You’re turn.” Alastair rolled his eyes but started strumming his guitar. Thomas recognized the song immediately. It happened to be Thomas’ favorite song Alastair had written.

It had been about an ex, one that they all actually knew. His ex was Charles who was Matthew’s older brother. They had dated in secret and then when it came out the fans just about lost their minds. Charles was following in his mom’s footsteps and was very involved in politics so when everything came out everyone rallied behind Alastair and started hating on Charles, even though Alastair had told them not to. They weren’t friends but they weren’t enemies.

When Thomas had found out he had been jealous before hearing the whole story from Cordelia and how Charles had used him and messed with his head. Matthew had screamed at his brother for hours and then didn’t talk to him for six months when it happened.

Remember all the things we wanted

Now all our memories, they're haunted

We were always meant to say goodbye

Even with our fists held high

It never would have worked out right

We were never meant for do or die

I didn't want us to burn out

I didn't come here to hurt you now I can't stop

I want you to know

That it doesn't matter

Where we take this road

But someone's gotta go

And I want you to know

You couldn't have loved me better

But I want you to move on

So I'm already gone

Looking at you makes it harder

But I know that you'll find another

That doesn't always make you wanna cry

It started with the perfect kiss then

We could feel the poison set in

"Perfect" couldn't keep this love alive

You know that I love you so

I love you enough to let you go

I want you to know

That it doesn't matter

Where we take this road

But someone's gotta go

And I want you to know

You couldn't have loved me better

But I want you to move on

So I'm already gone

Remember all the things we wanted

Now all our memories, they're haunted

We were always meant to say goodbye

I want you to know

That it doesn't matter

Where we take this road

But someone's gotta go

And I want you to know

You couldn't have loved me better

But I want you to move on

So I'm already gone

I'm already gone

Remember all the things we wanted

Now all our memories, they're haunted

We were always meant to say goodbye

Alastair finished with a small smile. Thomas let out an inaudible sigh and just looked at Alastair as people commented on his singing and his song.

Thomas was well aware of the fact that Alastair was attractive. He was quite the opposite of Thomas really. Where Alastair was all sharp angles and darkness, Thomas was muscular and bright. Alastiar was an icon, many people called him that, he got a lot of hate for being Persian and gay but he kept his head up and was there to support those like him. Thomas couldn’t help but admire that.

He was still in the closet and the worst thing people say about him is that he was the worst person in the band but that never got to him because it was just their fans' way of choosing favorites and quite honestly he would’ve chosen any of his friends before himself too.

Thomas realized with a start that he was no longer staring at Alastair’s face, but at his eyes. Thomas looked down embarrassed at having been caught. He looked back up with a soft smile he reserved for only his closest friends. “That was really good.” He said quietly. Alastair’s face lit up completely and his cheeks turned a faint red.

Thomas cleared his throat and looked up again seeing everyone’s curious eyes on them. “Anna, how long do we have until we get there?” Anna got her phone out and checked the time. “We have about an hour and a half so if you want to take a nap, go take a nap, because as soon as we get there all of you are rehearsing.”

Matthew stands up and stretches walking his room without a work James watches him leave and after a second's hesitation (go Jamie refraining himself) goes after him. Anna takes James’ now vacant spot and Christopher sprawls out next to her, his feel in her lap. She takes out her phone and starts playing a game, resting her hands on his ankles.

“Christopher has his eyes closed and Thomas looks at the girls. Lucie yawned and Thomas smiled at her fondly. “You know he won’t mind you using his room for a nap.” Thomas said, gesturing to Christopher who nodded his head without opening his eyes. Lucie smiled and stood up dragging Cordelia behind her. “Thank Kit.” She says stopping to pat Thomas’ cheek.

Thomas stretches before sinking back into the couch Alastair does the same but instead of settling back against the couch, he turns and put his legs over the side of the couch and places his head in Thomas’ lap.

Thomas tries to hide his blush by tilting his head back and closing his eyes, a stupid smile dancing on his lips. “Are you going to sleep?” Alastair’s voice whispers and Thomas looks down at him, Alastair’s blonde hair splayed out in his lap. Thomas shakes his head and tries his hardest to control his hands, which are twitching at the thought of running his hands through Alastair’s hair.

Thomas wondered if his hair was soft, it wasn’t the first time he had thought that but the desire to run his fingers through it grew nonetheless.

“What are you most excited for?” Alastair’s dark eyes were peering at Thomas through his dark lashes. Thomas scrunched his nose up causing Alastair to smile. “Honestly I don’t know. I’m excited to meet fans I guess. Much less excited to have to perform for them though.” Alastair shook his head and Thomas tried very hard not to focus on the feeling.

“You shouldn’t be nervous. That’s one of the best feelings, all the energy and excitement.” Thomas thought about it. They had had concerts before, they just hadn’t gone on tour. He had performed for people plenty of times and Alastair was right, the atmosphere was electric when they played.

Thomas felt a smile pulling at his lips at the memories of the last concert. They had been playing one of their well known songs and Matthew had stopped singing momentarily to catch his breath but the fans kept singing. Matthew had stopped altogether and let the fans finish the song. Thomas, Matthew, James, and Christopher were all in tears at the end because here were at least two hundred fans screaming the lyrics to their song. The song Thomas wrote. It was such an overwhelming feeling that they had to sit there and talk to their fans for ten minutes so Matthew’s voice could go back to normal.

Thomas was so immersed in the memory that he hadn’t noticed when he started running his hands through Alastair’s hair. He came to when Alastair leaned into the touch. Thomas’ hand froze and Alastair opened his previously closed eyes.

Thomas took a chance and resumed running his hands through Alastair’s hair. Alastair’s eyes closed again. Thomas had been right Alastair’s hair was very soft and felt like silk as Thomas’ guitar calloused hands ran through it.

“I guess you’re right I like the energy they have when performing.” Alastair makes a noise of agreement and shudders slightly. Thomas smiled again and put his head back against the couch again. “What are you most excited about?” Thomas asked.

“I’m excited to meet fans too. I love when they write notes and stuff. I always keep them. It constantly amazes me that people care enough that they write letters but I like hearing all their stories and journeys. It makes all this worth it.” Thomas smiled down at him even though Alastair couldn’t see it with his eyes closed.

This was what Thomas loved about Alastair. He did things for other people because he cared about them deeply. He never did anything unless it made people happy. Most people saw it as something else, something selfish but Thomas didn’t understand how they could be so blind as to not see how selfless Alastair was.

Thomas brushed a piece of hair out of Alastair’s face and let the silence settle on them like a warm blanket.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like it was with most people. This was comfortable. Something he could do all the time if he had a chance. It wasn’t lonely or confusing, it was peaceful.

Thomas didn’t realize he drifted off until he was awoken by someone shaking his shoulders gently. Thomas opened his eyes slowly and saw Alastair’s beaming face in front of him. “Come on Lightwood we’re here!” He said as if he was a kid at an amusement park.

Thomas chuckled and sat up stretching his back. “I’m awake. I’m coming.” Alastair rolled his eyes and then got off the bus quickly. Thomas yawned and stood up. Cordelia was standing in front of him with pensive eyes.

“Thomas be careful with him.” She said, leaving the bus before he could ask her what she meant.

Notes:

Songs:

In My Blood by Shawn Mendes

Already Gone by Sleeping At Last

#thomas and alastair #thomastair #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #fanfiction #high notes #matthew and james #heronchild #matthew fairchild #james herondale

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langdxn · 4 years

Text

salvation part iii: bloody angel | outpost!michael x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Michael’s pregnant wife meets a familiar face in the Outpost. Is she in danger?

WARNINGS: SMUT. Breeding kink, vaginal sex, fingering, pregnancy, childbirth, blood play, blood ritual, dom!Michael, daddy!Michael, some soft!Michael, angst, messing with the original plot. Basically it’s filthy.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

A/N: I promised serious smut in this chapter and I delivered like HELL. Heavily influenced by Avatar’s Bloody Angel I’ve had stuck in my head for days.

part i // part ii // part iv // part v

Every corridor in the underground Hawthorne Outpost looked identical to the last. You’d been half-running down so many twists and turns, you’d surely escaped the perimeter where that authoritative female voice had come from.

Find our sisters. What was that supposed to mean? Were there witches in the Outpost already? Everybody was dead, or at least you’d seen enough bodies to assume that was everybody this Outpost once housed.

That means someone’s coming to search the Outpost.

Time to pick a door in these endless alleyways and hide out until you hear the signal Michael warned you about.

Noticing the door at the far end of the corridor ahead of you had been left slightly ajar, warm yellow light pouring through the portal, it seemed as good a hiding place as any. Pacing nervously toward the light, you creaked the door open as softly as possible and clicked it shut behind you. Allowing your eyes to adjust to the gentle candlelight in the room, your eyes laid upon a large pentagram scrawled on the tiled floor in blood encircled by shallow, spent candles seconds away from extinguishing.

Leaning back against the door behind you, you slid your spine down its rough surface to drop to the floor, landing a curious finger into the pool of maroon scribbles. As your fingertip made contact with the blood, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and a surreal vision appeared before you.

“May you rise from the void, Father,” Michael’s voice beckoned in your mind as the overbearing scent of copper stung your senses. “May your darkness guide me.”

Your vision painted a clear picture of Michael kneeling dead centre of the bloody diagram, completely naked but for fresh streams of crimson trailing down his pale skin, dipping into the curves of his muscles and scoring rough lines down his biceps. Desperation dappled across his countenance as his brows furrowed with confusion, staring up at the ceiling as if seeking a point to focus on.

“Power in Satan to overcome my weaknesses, power in your name to be strong within,” he chanted with purpose, with fervour, with determination as he coursed the blade down his arteries. A harsh groan died on his lips as the knife deftly split open the delicate flesh on his forearm, pouring a cascade of blood onto the tiles beneath him.

“I thought I destroyed them all. One survives. I found her, she’s here.” Your eyes widened in horror.

“I beg for your wisdom. Please, Father, open my eyes!” your husband cried helplessly into the void, scouring the sky for a sign, any sign that his calls were being answered.

Your vision darted around the room as you wracked your brains for answers. How did he know you were a witch? You had spent all your years by his side blocking every single one of your powers from him.

When a woman named Cordelia Goode knocked on your door to offer you salvation in the form of Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies well over a decade ago, you slammed the door in her face. You resented your ‘gift’ of sight, your ‘talent’ for conjuring spells, your ‘flair’ for the supernatural. You were a stubborn adolescent who saw no attraction in spending your teenage years among other witches, helping each other identify their powers, harness their abilities. High school was traumatic enough without your enemies having the ability to snap your neck with a flick of their obnoxious teenage bangs.

Had your husband really worked out who you were, or was he talking about another witch? If he suspected you, why was he so kind to you earlier? You’d pushed every thought of your powers back into the dark recesses of your mind, how could he possibly find them if he couldn’t even predict your arrival in the Outpost? His powers were pointless around you, your own talents so guarded that even the Antichrist felt disarmed by you.

Your vision snapped back into the delicately lit room, the pentagram empty of Michael’s naked form. Instinctively grasping at your bump at the morbid thought of how much blood your love had lost in this ritual, you traced the raised pattern of scars scored across your unborn baby’s home.

———

“Fuck, Michael I’m gonna—“ your walls constricted around Michael’s length, plunged so deep inside you that you swore you could feel his cock all the way up in your throat. You snaked your legs around his waist and trailed both arms around his neck, begging him to embrace you as you give in to your climax.

“No you’re not, Mrs Langdon,” Michael slowed his thrusts inside you to an agonisingly glacial pace as your arms dropped from his shoulders, a wanting cry dripping off your tongue as you lost contact. “Daddy’s not finished with you yet.”

Michael reached across you to the bedside cabinet for his elegantly carved ceremonial knife, a determined grin dancing across his lips. He pointed its glistening blade toward your stomach and gazed down at you from beneath his menacing eyebrows, searching for your approval for his next move. You strained to nod between frantic, anticipating pants and dropped your head back to the sheets beneath you, grabbing fistfuls of the blood red silk pooling around your entwined forms.

A sharp, cool sensation traced across your bare abdomen, replaced swiftly by a searing heat as your flesh ripped tenderly beneath the blade. Michael’s cock twitched inside you as your insides tightened around his length, bucking your hips up into him and scratching down his thighs between your legs as the knife tickled and turned you on at the same time.

Chuckling under his breath at your desperate search for friction, Michael drew skilful straight lines connecting to each other over your bare skin, his tongue darting across his full lips as he concentrated.

“Now what does that greedy little cunt of yours want daddy to do now?” He hissed down over you, leaning his head as he inspected each angle of the angry wounds adorning your abdomen. His work had to be perfect or the ritual wouldn’t succeed.

“Please daddy,” was all you could muster as the metallic scent of fresh blood flooded your senses and dried out your mouth. Apparently that wasn’t enough communication for your husband, as he dug the knife deeper into your abdomen making you hiss against your clenched teeth.

“I didn’t quite hear you darling, what was that?”

“Please breed me, daddy,” your back arched as you finally said the words out loud. Those intimate words had danced around your mind ever since the first time you made love, when Michael placed a flat, expectant palm across your abdomen and a smile spread along his expressive lips. It was an unspoken engagement between you that he would one day ask you — or rather demand you — to help him rebuild the world in his father’s design. That being said, you never thought past the act of conception, never prepared yourself for a pregnancy or childbirth, you simply assumed that would come naturally to you when the time came.

“Good girl,” he praised in his typical pseudo-demeaning manner he reserved for the bedroom. After engraving a final circular motion, he wiped away the emerging crimson beads to follow the pattern scored into your stomach, leaning back to admire his work. Carelessly casting the knife across the room, he let out a pornographic growl as he took in the sight of you - his beautiful wife, legs spread wide open beneath him, his cock buried balls deep inside you, your stomach bleeding feverishly and your walls jolting with pleasure around him.

You lifted your head to look down to his scrawls, discovering a shallow pentagram scored into your abdomen, coursing veiny trails of crimson across your skin. Your eyes blazed a trail of pure ecstasy up his body to meet his pitch black irises, wanting and demonic. He leaned down to tower over you, bracing himself with both fists on the bed, allowing him the freedom to slowly drive his cock into you again.

“Now, where were we?” He seethed as he carefully increased the tempo of his length slithering into your folds. “Oh yes, you were about to cum, weren’t you angel?”

The tip of Michael’s cock grazed your sensitive spot with intent, as if he could instinctively aim for it whenever he needed you to climax all over him. The g spot was no thing of wonder to the Antichrist, simply a button he knew he could push whenever the occasion called for it. Rolling his hips effortlessly into you, pounding your pussy so hard the filthy sounds of slapping, sweaty skin echoed through your bed, the floorboards and even the chandelier above you.

Noticing your back arching involuntarily towards him and your arms snaking around his back to claw your nails down his spine, Michael knew you were close but he couldn’t hold his own orgasm much longer.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me like a good little whore.”

With a fervent twitch, his cock pulsed deep inside you and spilled his release against your walls. Meeting his pitch black gaze, the sight of your husband convulsing as he came and the sensation of your walls fluttering against his twitching length set the fire inside you ablaze as your nails scratched deeper into his back.

“Just like that baby, let daddy fill up your pretty little cunt.”

With a final thrust of his load deep inside you, you unleashed an animalistic moan signalling your own climax, your eyes retreating to the back of your head and your legs constricting tightly and shaking uncontrollably around him. Riding out your orgasms together, he slipped both arms under your back and raised you up to meet him in a tight, loving embrace.

“I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he reassured you in his effortlessly seductive tone that could have easily set you into orgasm all over again. Peppering delicate kisses around your collarbone and tracing up to your ear, his breath burning against your skin, Michael sighed gently and swung his head back to look you deep in the eyes. His effortless transition from dominant demon to sympathetic lover never ceased to surprise you, blinking his piercing black eyes closed for them to return to his dreamy azure irises once again. In the blink of an eye, he morphed into the tender human being you fell in love with, the romantic man you married and for whom you sold your soul.

“Did I hurt you baby?” He placed a gentle hand down to your wounds, the congealing blood sticking to his palm as you shook your head weakly. You tried to lose yourself in the tender moment between you but you couldn’t ignore the seeping feeling between your folds, the obscene mixture of both of your releases slowly flowing out onto your legs.

“Lie back down for me,” he cooed as he gestured you down onto the crimson sheets. Crawling on top of you once more, he leaned down to plant a searing kiss on your abdomen: defiled, marked, owned. Working his way down between your legs, Michael dipped two ringed fingers into the fluids dripping down your thighs and slipped them back inside your folds.

“Can’t have any of this going to waste when we’re building the new world, can we angel?”

———

Fingertips following the twists and turns of the scar tissue across your bump, you heard heavy footsteps approaching the door you were pressed up against. Decidedly male, you convinced yourself those footsteps were Michael’s, coming to look for you, to help you. You scrambled to your feet and yanked the heavy door open, searching the corridor ahead for any sign of your husband’s golden curls. As you turned to look down another corridor, your breath was knocked out of your chest as you bumped into a torso, getting a face full of a dark, torn raincoat.

Placing your palms on the body in front of you to steady yourself, your gaze darted up to see the face of the person who just knocked into you. A boil-ravaged man’s face framed by a dark beard and straggly brown hair with a drastically receded hairline. His eyebrows were singed, his eyes exhausted and world-weary. You’d seen faces just like his while making the treacherous journey to Outpost 3 - cancer from the blast, lesions, hair damage that looked like that of a chemotherapy patient. This man was lucky to be alive at all.

Stunned and apologetic, he seemed to look right through you, as if you weren’t who he expected.

“Are — are you okay?” He queried, looking down your figure until he noticed your unmistakable bump filling the space between you.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied meekly. “Are you?” You raised your hand to touch a deep, angry wound on his cheek, but he quickly swatted your hand away.

“Please, don’t touch me, you’ll harm that one,” he pointed down to your bump. Your kind heart hadn’t thought twice about the harm this man’s radiation could do to you and your unborn child, but that still didn’t drive you to step away from him.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise,” he defended as if he had spent his whole life apologising for his actions. “I’m looking for someone.”

Your gaze searched down his person for any giveaway signs that could help you identify him or who he was looking for. He didn’t look like a Cooperative member or an Outpost resident that found his way outside, but the glint of a blood-stained knife in his left hand suggested he wasn’t wandering the Hawthorne corridors for peaceful purposes.

“They’re all dead, everybody is dead.” You surprised yourself with your bluntness, your vision and concerns for your husband somehow outweighing your concern for the bodies you’d just left in the Hawthorne common room.

Suddenly, you felt a warm, uncomfortable sensation seep between your legs. Grasping at your bump, both you and the man looked down to see a flow of clear water burst from beneath your dress. Your eyes met each other’s again, this time in sheer panic.

“Oh fuck, it’s coming, the baby’s coming!” You wailed, bracing yourself against the cold wall as your mind went hazy. You’d been preparing for this moment for nine months but no amount of parenting books read by the warm glow of Michael’s office fireplace could prepare you for this.

The tall, dark stranger placed a sympathetic arm lightly on your shoulders, resting safely on the cape draping over your form.

“Come on, we need to get you somewhere comfortable,” he leaned down to you, guiding you toward the door behind you but you held your ground with all the strength you had left.

“No, no, not in there, let’s try here,” you desperately pointed across the hall.

Throwing your weight through an adjacent door with a stumble, you nearly tripped over a tin bathtub in the centre of the room. Filled half full with still, crystal clear water, the circular tub reminded you of Michael’s promise to keep a birthing pool in the Outpost for you.

How on earth had you landed upon the one door that led to Michael’s quarters? The coincidence would’ve seemed uncanny if you hadn’t been shocked out of your thoughts by a strong muscular spasm in your bump.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, causing the man propping you up to jolt and look down at your bump, concern washing over his face, barely noticing that he’d dropped the blade in his other hand while trying to grasp at your dress to help you.

“C—contractions, they’re sta—starting already,” you panted, clutching at your belly in a desperate bid to tell the baby inside to slow down. Leaning your weight onto the stranger’s broad shoulders, you heaved yourself over the rim of the tin bath and eased yourself down to lay in the lukewarm water. Your cape floated either side of you while you positioned yourself comfortably, legs spread wide and your heavy waterlogged skirt hitched up to your hips. In looking up to thank him for his assistance, you clocked the fear in the man’s eyes and the shake in his hands as he bent over you beside the pool.

“Look, before I give birth in front of a total stranger, my name’s Y/N. What’s yours?” You panted through strained breaths, determined to know the identity of the mysterious male who would soon become your (decidedly unwilling) birthing partner.

“Brock, my name’s Brock,” he replied shakily, his terrified gaze fixed on you and gasping for breath whenever you jolted with a contraction. His face suggested he was in more pain than you were through your labour. Despite your predicament, you realised in that moment that you’d have to be the voice of reason for you both.

“Nice to meet you, Brock. Now listen, I can’t guarantee your safety in here. It’s up to you if you want to stay with me, but it won’t be long before I start screaming the place down and the witches find us.”

“Wha—is this the labour talking? Did you just say fucking witches?”

As you muttered an incantation under your laboured breath, a heavy armchair hovered across the room and landed behind the door, propping it shut from the inside.

“Yes, Brock, fucking witches.”

——————————————————————

Tag, you’re it! @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @psychobitchtess @theinevitableprophecy @leatherduncan @abbyjforman @melodylangdon 🖤

#michael langdon #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #cody fern #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader

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