#he can open up to her in private...but still fears upon it...

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 9 * mv1

max finds out you'd gone to the club with alexandra, making him wonder if it’s really over when pictures of you and another man leak

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings:

notes: nah when i finish this, i WILL be milking the whole series because this is my only breakup outlet left like damN

(series masterlist)

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max could not stop thinking of you all day - all week, in fact. ever since a rumour had started going around that he's moving on with another woman, he could only have imagined what it's like for you to see that.

it sucks because he'd just been doing nelson piquet a favour - bringing kelly into the paddocks for a race under his pass. but nothing more ever went down between them.

he could only think of how your hands go cold at the rumour and heart absolutely shattering. he admits that he thought of sending you a text that night, but cowered away at the fear of your rejection for his explanation. maybe you no longer cared about what he's doing with his life.

he knows that because you unfollowed him on instagram and every other social media platform alike. you have even taken it upon yourself to unfollow his private account, his profile riddled with pictures and memories of the two of you together that he has not had the courage to delete just yet.

the only reason that he is aware of your sudden decision to distance yourself from him after the breakup is when he was confused about the notable lack of you on his timeline. when he checked, you were just another account he is now a stranger to.

he believes it was brought about by the dating rumours. because he used to stalk you all the time.

all. the. time.

"max, mate," daniel's voice makes him lift his head, eyebrows raising as a response. daniel's lips carve into a smile before it quickly disappears without anyone else noticing. "i said do you wanna grab some drinks at the bar? charles is already there."

max hesitates. the urge to be alone in his hotel room is real; curling up in bed while he listened to his mellow playlist while he debates once more if he should reach out. but against his better judgement, he nods with a small smile on his face as he starts to follow behind the older man.

"so, how are you feeling?" daniel asks, turning to him with a polite smile as they walk. "better, hopefully?"

with a halfhearted smile, max shrugs. "a little."

"progress is still progress," daniel reassures him with a pat on his shoulder, "it will still get better from here. you know that."

max nods. but there's still a yearning for you that he can't explain or get over. while he can understand that time is needed apart from you, things are not seemingly going towards his favour, or at least the way he wants it to go.

his chances of getting back together with you are slim. he really wants to, but he cannot bear the thought you having to say goodbye to you a second time.

but if he had the chance to do it all over again with you, he’d try to change the course of time if it meant having you back in his arms.

he tries to get you off his mind by moving on to other topics of conversation. but all he can think about is how you could have been here, arm around his waist as you leaned into his body while giggling over something daniel said to you.

you should have been at parc ferme following every race finish with your arms opened wide, welcoming him in for a wide smile and a tight hug.

but you never are.

and it doesn't help that now he's at the bar, there's charles and alexandra exchanging loud conversation about an event she attended back home.

"oh yeah," alexandra laughs unknowingly as they approach, "she was wild that night! she took body tequila shots from this guy! and we'd just met him that night. it was insane."

daniel pops his head between the couple with a lazy smile on his face. "who took body shots from a random guy they met at the bar?"

alexandra whips her head around, locking eyes with max. she laughs nervously as charles puts his hand over her knee. "just my friend back home."

max looks at her knowingly, taking his seat in the opposite booth. "it's (y/n), isn't it?" he asks, looking at the menu. everyone falls silent as he scans the menu for something to drink, prompting him to look up, slightly annoyed. "else, why wouldn't you elaborate to daniel when he asked?"

"hey," charles says, exchanging a glance with alexandra next to him. he squeezes her hand and sits up, leaning towards max. "what's your problem?"

"nothing," max answers in the calmest tone he can find within himself, "it's just odd that she tried to cover it up when it's so obvious." he turns to daniel. "wasn't it?"

daniel stares at him, visibly gulping and then glancing at the couple that sits across them.

"i didn't know you were already here," alexandra explains, dropping her head low. "i would have stopped way earlier."

"why would you?" max smiles, albeit halfheartedly, then looks down at the menu again. "we've broken up, right? she can do what she wants - i'm not her problem anymore."

"right," alexandra nods, pressing her lips together and sinking into her seat. she gives daniel a small smile before taking a sip of her cocktail. "sorry."

"hey," charles says again, putting both hands on the table. "you fucked up. don't take it out on alex that you're upset (y/n) is no longer with you. weren't you the one who let her walk out?"

max looks up immediately, mouth agape as he tries to process the words that charles just spoke. it's true that max let you walk out, which is what hurt the most. and it's, in fact, unfair that he is being like this.

max just sighs. "you're right." he turns to alexandra. "i'm sorry, alex. i shouldn't have taken it out on you."

alexandra just smiles, nodding understandingly. "it's okay. breakups are hard, max. i shouldn't have been talking about it knowing you'd be here any second, anyway."

"okay," daniel finally speaks, hands held up between the three of them. "let's just have a peaceful dinner, alright? no more breakup talks - this is an enjoyable evening."

they murmur in agreement with a nod. but the tension is the air never lightens up, and neither does the churning in max's stomach which is increasingly getting harder to ignore.

there's something about the phone in max's pocket that's making him itch to check it.

so after they send their orders in, his friends immediately fall into a conversation and he fishes for his phone in his back pocket. there's only one notification.

one that told him he's justified for feeling sick.

don't react

they're just pictures

it's from victoria. he opens the message, received about 10 minutes ago when he left the paddocks with the older alpha tauri driver. he can almost imagine the pictures, even if victoria hadn't taken the liberty to curse him with the pleasure of seeing them.

so he opens instagram.

just as fate would have it, you're at the top of his timeline from some f1 gossip page that he had no idea he followed. in the first one, your face can be barely made out, crouched down as you step out of the backseat of a car with alexandra still in the car. but he recognises the dress - it's one that he got you a couple of years ago, after winning his first race with you as his girlfriend.

the sheer will you've got to be on a night out in a dress that he got you is something he has to give to you. that's absolutely one way to get back at him after the pictures of him and kelly.

something tells him it's about to get worse. and it does, because when he swipes to the next picture, it's you visibly looking intoxicated, he assumes from all the body shots you took. and his heart skips a beat in his chest as his mouth runs dry.

there it is, some guy holding the car door open for you. in the next, he's seen scooching in with you in that backseat.

"are you alright, mate?" charles' voice makes him look up as he drops his phone into his lap.

max takes a deep breath, unable to force a smile to his face. he just nods, swallowing the lump in his throat.

charles' stare on him lingers before he nods hesitantly and resumes the conversation with daniel. max's eyes shift to alexandra, now staring at her phone with parted lips.

she looks up, meeting his eyes with a worried stare.

max just shakes his head before she can say anything. he just leans back into the seat and folds his arms over his chest.

guess it's really over now between you.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever @lokigoeschoki @cherry-piee @telengraph

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke midnights

[cal-flakes]

can u do a story where the reader has a sleepover w sarah and it starts to storm so she goes over to rafes room 🙆🏼‍♀️

of course my love <3

╰┈➤ comforted by rafe

warnings: just fluff.

summary: y/n’s fear of thunder kicks in one night at her bestfriends house.

the rumbling of the clouds above tannyhill jolted y/n awake suddenly. perspiration apparent on her face. sighing, she turned to face sarah, who was fast asleep, starfished next to her.

she sat up, groaning lightly at the ache in her neck, she must’ve fallen asleep in an awkward position. a flash of bright light lit up the room for a second, lightning zipping across kildare in the night.

y/n hated thunderstorms, she could never sleep through them. to others it was irrational, but to her the fear was very real.

a hoarse whimper escaped her as a loud bang met her ears, the dryness of her throat making itself known. another angry roar erupted, causing her waterline to brim with tears.

y/n slipped out from under the sheets and left the room, careful not to make any noise. over the years of being bestfriends with sarah cameron, she’d memorised tannyhill pretty well. her and sarah had once drawn a map of the squeaky floorboards in an attempt to sneak out a few years ago.

putting her knowledge to use, she padded through the house tactically, tears streaming.

jumping at ever clap of thunder, she squinted through her tears, relying solely on the flashes of lightning for vision.

she switched on the kitchen lights once she reached the door way. a shaky breath forced its way out of her lungs before she let out a few quiet sobs.

she couldn’t find anything to ground her when thunderstorms hit the outerbanks, not anymore anyways. before her brother moved away, she used to tiptoe across the hall to his room, where he’d sit up with her for hours until the sky calmed down.

her hands shook as she filled her glass in the sink, fumbling with the tap. y/n took a small sip, sighing before scurrying over to the couch in the private living room.

she sat there for a few minutes, stuck in her thoughts when the patio door handle turned eerily slow. her heart raced, coming up with the worst scenarios she could think of. stuck in place, she watched as her bestfriends brother snook inside, unaware of her presence.

turning around from the now closed door, he jumped at the sight of her. sniffling, his eyes widened. “what are you doing here?” he whispered, cautious of waking his father. also sniffling, y/n wiped the tears away from her cheeks.

“i stayed over with sarah.” she muttered, hand gesturing to the room above them. y/n took the chance to observe her friends brother, spotting similar tear marks on his cheeks, his nose red.

unbeknownst to her, he had the same idea. “are you crying?” he asked carefully, tip toeing towards the couch she was curled up on. her already pink cheeks flushed a brighter shade, humiliation now coursing through her.

“thunderstorms, they always get me. you?” self-deprecating laughter filled the room as she nodded towards him, hands still shaky.

lifting his arm up to scratch the back of his head nervously, rafe began to stutter, struggling to explain why he was also crying.

y/n, empathising with his unwillingness to tell, patted the spot next to her, noticing as his face twisted into confusion.

“you look like you need a hug, it just so happens that i do to..” she joked, hoping to lighten the mood. he eyed her suspiciously, battling with his thoughts before giving in, knowing she was right.

he sat down next to her, throwing his arm up, allowing her to shuffle under it. y/n rest her head upon his chest, closing her eyes, revelling in the comfort.

the pair sat in silence for a while, rafe taking it upon himself to stroke her arm whenever she jumped in fright. after a little longer, both y/n’s and rafe’s eyes had fluttered shut, falling into a deep sleep as they curled further and further into eachother.

y/n opened her eyes with a yawn, the sun gleamed through the patio doors, heating her cheeks. quickly taking in her surroundings, she adjusted her head, eyes landing on rafe’s closed one’s.

for a minute, she allowed herself to admire him, a smile tugging at her lips as she took in his features. this might have been the first time she’d ever seen him so peaceful, she thought to herself.

“rafe, rafe!” she spoke in a hushed tone, prodding his shoulder lightly.

after a moment, he stirred awake, looking at his little sisters friend in shock. blowing some air out of his nose, he chuckled slightly, as did she.

“let’s not tell anyone about this” she giggled, thinking about how truly peaceful her sleep had been. nodding in agreement, rafe sat up, smiling at her sheepishly.

and that, was the start of a strange, mutually beneficial relationship with her bestfriends brother.

#rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x reader #dom!rafe #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #outerbanks rafe #rafecameron #rafe smut #rafe obx

[tragedybunny]

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Chapter 1

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements (mild this chapter), violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 2128

༺A/N༻This will be a bit of a darker take on Ascended Astarion and the relationship with his Consort, and a bit of an AU for how I normally portray him and Serafina's relationship. As such I am not tagging anyone unless specifically requested for this fic. Additionally I would like to note this is my take on Ascended Astarion, or maybe one of my takes on him, but I will not say it is some definitive take and does not invalidate anyone else's headcanon or ideas about the character. Thanks to @leomonae for betaing this chapter.

꧁༺Chapter 1 - The Ascendant Vampire Lord ༻꧂

“Isn’t that what you want, to be mine forever?” the man that still bore Astarion’s appearance, but seemed less like him every passing moment, asked. 

A great, black pit opened in Serafina’s heart at his words. Never once had she indicated that she wished to be his spawn - or Consort, as he was so deviously calling it. “No, Astarion, that’s not what I want at all.” 

None of this was what she wanted. The ritual had promised him freedom, and in a moment of weakness, with his tormentor there on his knees, she’d agreed. The thousands of spawn couldn’t be loosed upon the world, and this way Astarion would be safe. Maybe it was the exhaustion and fear that had worn down her senses, maybe it was her foolish heart, so blindly in love, but something had clouded her judgment in that moment. And now nothing felt right; there was something different behind those crimson eyes she’d thought she knew so well. Or maybe she hadn’t; maybe this was him all along. There was something cruel and hungry, lurking, waiting, and when he stared at her too long, it made her shiver. And all those souls…

“Ah, pity. You deserve to be beautiful forever, my love.” Then those eyes softened and it was the Astarion she knew looking at her. Smiling warmly, he wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her forehead. “But whatever makes my darling happy.” 

Burying her face in his chest, she could feel his hands softly rubbing her back. Was it possible she’d been imagining all that darkness? After almost a full day without sleep, and the trauma of the battle with Cazador and the ritual, she was no longer sure of anything. 

Just thinking about it made her yawn unconsciously. “Is my little love sleepy,” he cooed in her ear, hands running through her hair, just like all the nights they’d shared a bed and he’d cuddled close to her. 

It was her own guilt, that was all. The guilt for those lives that had been taken in the ritual. This was still Astarion; her exhausted mind was just playing tricks on her. “Mmm, yeah, I can hardly stand.” 

She gasped as her legs were swept out from under her and Astarion held her to his chest. “Private room, a little time for just the two if us before you sleep?” he asked in a sultry whisper, his offer clear.

Suddenly much more awake, looking up, she caught his gaze again, wondering at the sudden desire. “You’re sure?”

“Don’t be…” His response was almost snappish, but he caught himself. “Of course I am. I love you.” 

Three little words, everyone’s favorite. Was he sincere? But why wouldn’t he be, after everything? Gods, she really was too tired. “I love you too, Astarion.” 

“Always?” It sounded like a plea: like the man who told her that he’d deceived her into loving him, but that he wanted it to be real. 

“Always, my Starry Sky,” She kissed the hollow of his throat softly, content to accept his words, and let him carry her away to the room at the Elfsong set apart from the shared common area.

The room was full of soft candlelight and the bed was freshly made, the scent of clean linen mixed with Astarion’s own blend of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy. It felt vibrant, alive, and welcoming. He gently laid her down amongst the pillows. “Let's get you comfortable,” Astarion purred, pulling her boots off. 

Sera shifted, pushing up on her elbows as her boots were discarded, her exhausted brain trying to fend off the last of the drowsiness. Something cold slithered into her stomach as Astarion began to strip off his shirt, baring himself to the waist. No, they were celebrating, this was their victory. There was nothing wrong with it. 

“Like what you see?” he smirked, the picture of that roguish charm she'd fallen for. 

A hesitant smile answered him. This was what she wanted, Astarion happy and the two of them free to be in love. “Is there any doubt, my love?” He was too far away though. “Come to me, I want to touch you.” That would put things right, having him in her arms. 

“Soon, my treasure.” He was already tugging on the laces of his trousers. The way he was rid of them and his boots was too precise: methodical, not passionate. 

Sitting fully, she pushed back against those thoughts. They were finding themselves again. For a moment, she drank him in, in all his impossible beauty, as though hand-sculpted by some god. “Astarion.” The word was a plea: for him to touch her, to show her those doubts were unfounded. 

With feline grace he came to her, kneeling beside her on the bed, his lips capturing hers before traversing down. “My sweet Serafina,” he murmured, lips burning hot against her skin as fangs teased her throat. Fingers that no longer held the cool of the grave brushed her skin as he tugged at her shirt. Shrugging out of it, she pulled him to her, hands wandering his ivory skin, the lines of his scars rigid against her palms. A reminder that he had paid the price for all of this years before the ritual. Didn’t he deserve the freedom it gave him?

“I love you, I want you,” she moaned as his tongue ran along the shell of her ear. 

“Then you shall have me, my love.” Already his hands were working to free her from her pants, moving to them from her waist at such speed, she’d hardly noticed. He stripped them from her with demanding fervor. 

Greedily, his eyes roamed her bared body. “My love, all mine,” he growled, shifting to kneel between her thighs, spreading her legs. 

As he leaned down to kiss her again, the press of his cock against her already wet slit made her whimper and roll her hips against him. My love, the blood in her veins sang, echoing him; her whole body craving him and her heart trembling with love. 

“Mine,” he whispered again, darkness slipping into his voice. 

A shiver ran through her and her lips parted. Whatever words she might have said died on her tongue as his unyielding grip fixed on her wrists, pinning them above her head. A gasp was pulled from her as his cock pushed inside her, forcing her open for him. 

The pain was momentary as slow thrusts of his hips let her accommodate his girth. And it was so good to feel him inside her, to be together in this way. Rolling her hips, she met his thrusts, even as her wrists remained pinned above her. Soft whimpers filled the air between them as he lavished soft kisses on her skin from her chest to her throat. They lingered on the spot he'd bitten last, marks all but faded. 

Without warning, his fangs pierced her skin; Sera let out a yelp, but the sting faded into the haze of pleasure quickly. Blood pumped from her heart to his, nourishing the man she loved. “Astarion,” she breathed, feeling herself clench around him. 

“Come for me, my pet.” Something was wrong again, his voice like ice, the hands that held her turned to iron. Gasping, her release came, but his fangs remained in her neck, drawing out a crimson tide.

“Astarion, stop.” Her voice had already grown quiet, the edges of her vision blackening. Panic weighed down her already struggling heart. He had no intention of stopping, did he? Weakly, she tried to fight the grip on her wrists that held her in place and robbed her of her ability to cast magic. Far away, she could hear something: a slow thudding, her heart beating out its last feeble pumps. Eyelids that were too heavy closed and the cold of the grave Astarion had escaped enveloped her. 

“You’ll thank me later, little love,” the Vampire Ascendant said, with the voice of the man she loved. 

There was nothing, just an endless sea of icy darkness. It was peaceful though: no tadpole, no warlock pact, no family to run from and haunt her memories…no Astarion and whatever the ritual had done to him. If this was eternity, she could embrace it and lay down her burdens. 

It seemed that was too much to ask of the universe; awareness slowly came back to her. Limbs stiff and cold, not responding as they should, lungs that didn’t move of their own accord anymore, and a heart that barely beat. Flashes of images filled her mind, sensations and snippets of what had happened, Astarion on top of her, draining her life away, betraying her. Her dead heart ached and she hesitantly ran a tongue over her teeth, finding elongated canines sharp enough to prick. Maybe if she just kept her eyes closed, she could finish dying, and not face what had been done. 

“I can sense you stirring, Serafina. Open your eyes, love. Let me welcome you to your new life.” It wasn’t a command that compelled her and yet, she found herself inclined to do as he asked. Another wound to add to the others tearing her apart. He was her murderer and master in the span of hours. And she, his spawn and consort. 

Eyes opening, she found him sitting next to her, peacefully reading. “There you are,” Astarion’s smile was enough to bare his fangs as he greeted her. “How do you feel?”

Sera whimpered, eyes surprisingly wet for someone who was dead. “Why?” 

Astarion’s book snapped shut violently and his crimson eyes turned hard. “Are you really going to be petulant and ungrateful? I did this for you. You weren’t ready to accept it yet, but now you’ll live forever, perfect and beautiful.” Wetness dotted her cheeks and his voice turned gentle again. “Shh, I’m sorry I was short with you.” Sliding closer, he wrapped an arm around her, coaxing her to lay her head on his shoulder. “I love you Sera. I had to do this, I couldn’t bear to ever be without you. Don’t you understand?”

She hadn’t been ready for everything that had happened since she was taken by the Nautiloid. All she had wanted was freedom, not to become everyone’s leader and pillar of support, not to fall so helplessly in love. One misstep had brought it all crashing down. The striving had tired her, and it was easier to nod her head, stifle her tears, and agree with him. Easier to believe him. That it was for love. “I wish you would’ve given me time to think.” 

“Sera.” His voice caught in appropriate regret, “I’m sorry. I just did it, I didn’t think. We’ll be alright, won’t we?”

“We will,” she reassured him, taking his hand in hers. They were bound now anyway; looking back just meant more regrets. 

Tilting her head up, he brought his lips delicately to hers, leaving a pleasant haze in her mind, so unlike the last, violent, touch of his that had ended her life. “That’s more like it, my sweet.” A sudden pain in her abdomen caused her to wince, and Astarion cup her cheek softly, rubbing a thumb along it comfortingly. “You poor thing, I bet you’re starving too. Once we get some blood in you, everything will be alright. Let’s go get changed and see to it.”

Astarion rose, offering her his hand and helping her up. Her legs trembled slightly and she fought to steady herself. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he chuckled softly. “At least you didn’t have to claw your way out of your grave.”

He let her lean on him all the way back to the common room, his touch making her feel safe, wanted, loved. Perhaps there was something to this new Astarion: a stronger man than before, more sure of himself. Not that he hadn’t made her feel those same things before, but there was more confidence in him now. 

There was no mistaking what Astarion had done as their group gathered to plan their day. Her companions studied her, none of them remarking on the change for the moment. Finally, when their eyes seemed to harbor some unvoiced suspicion, Astarion whisked her away, explaining her need to be fed. 

As she changed for the day, Shadowheart wandered over, some laundry of Sera’s that had been mixed into hers in her hand. Sera was about to thank her, when she leaned in and whispered swiftly, “I thought you didn’t want to do this?’

Swallowing thickly, Sera let her eyes wander to where Astarion was discussing something with Gale. “I changed my mind,” she lied. They wouldn’t understand; they were so ready to condemn him as a monster. “Astarion needs me.”

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x original female character #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #my writing #my fanfic #bg3 tav #bg3 tav serafina #ascended astarion #slow dancing in a burning room

[fizzyxcustard]

Knife's Edge

Currently on AO3 here

Fandom(s): The Hobbit crossover with Legend (1985)

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader & Darkness x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are living in Erebor. Thorin decides to admit his feelings to you after speaking with Dis, his sister and your best friend. However, you are having dreams of a creature from another world. He is becoming more powerful, trying to lure you into his world where you can be his Queen. When the lust and pull toward the creature become too much, you step into his world and meet Darkness. You have already promised yourself to Thorin. Will Darkness' seduction be enough to overthrow it all? Or will you still have enough strength inside you to follow your heart?

Warnings: Smut, graphic sexual themes, insecurity, anxiety, sex dreams, monster and human sexual encounters, violence, language, breeding kink mention, power/lust/greed themes.

(This fic is very sexually explicit and has a lot of lust/power/greed themes, while also working on the monster/human sexual references. If this is not to your liking then please do not read. You have been warned)

Comments: Currently on AO3 here / Part 2 is in the works.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from any tag lists.

The dreams had begun one night in the middle of winter, when the stone hallways of Erebor were bitter cold. And you woke in the witching hours, dripping in sweat, despite having wrapped yourself up tightly in the furs. The figure had visited you from the shadows, beckoning you to his palace in which all light had fled from. His voice stirred something from deep within your core, a need and a desire of which you have never felt before.

As you opened your eyes, the pulsing between your legs becoming duller, you reached for a glass of water which was beside your bed. Your hand fumbled around, almost knocking the candle off the wooden surface. Your breathing was still hitched, and your heart was racing.

The figure’s voice echoed in your mind, although his words seem to have become jumbled. All you could keep hold of was the feel of velvet and delectable pleasure which had raged through you upon hearing the voice.

***

At breakfast, which you shared with Dis, King Thorin’s younger sister, you were quiet. Her blue eyes searched for any hint as to if you were ill, or perhaps were in a melancholy mood. Humans had always been unusual beings, she thought. Not as forthright as Dwarves. But still, she loved you like family, welcoming you to Erebor when you had arrived after journeying with Thorin and his Company to re-claim the kingdom of Erebor. In fact, your very existence to everyone was a mystery. You had claimed to have come from a land only known as ‘Earth’, having appeared out on the road very suddenly.

“We have visitors from Dale this morning, and Thorin has asked we be present to welcome them,” Dis announced. Her eyes were still watching you, as you pushed a piece of bread around your plate, not having had the appetite to eat it, or any of the two boiled eggs that had been prepared for you.

Something about the dream had felt so real, and you couldn’t shake the way it had burrowed into your mind.

“Are you alright?” Dis asked, her voice sharp. “You are extremely distracted this morning. Are you ill?”

“No,” you said softly, straightening your back. “I’m sorry. I had a rough night; bad dreams and didn’t sleep well.”

***

Meanwhile, Thorin was sat in his private study. For the last week and all he had thought about was the question that he wished to raise with you. For most of the time that Thorin had known you, he had been in love with you. At first, he felt fear at the fact that his heart was yearning for one who was not of his race and from another world entirely. The idea that you were merely a novelty had crossed his mind early on, but had soon been discarded. The way his chest compressed when he saw you, and his stomach clenched, and all he could do was smile when your gaze reached him. That said it all. You were always in his thoughts. When Erebor had been close to attack from orcs at the Battle of Five Armies, and Thorin had succumb to madness, his mind was still focused on you. He wanted the gold so he could be worthy of you.

Thorin stood from his desk, straightened his robe and picked up his crown, placing it against his raven locks, which were touched with silver streaks. Even the crown upon his head didn’t feel enough for you.

A gentle knock at Thorin’s door broke him from his reverie. “Yes, come!” he called.

Dis slipped into the room and approached her brother, offering him a smile. She said your name and watched as Thorin’s head immediately turned to face her. “I’m worried about her. At breakfast she was quiet, too quiet. Her mind was away elsewhere, and while she denied being ill and blamed her mood on a bad night sleep, I’m not convinced. Have you spoken with her about your proposal?”

A doubt had snuck into Thorin’s heart at Dis’ words. “I wished to ask her to dinner tonight and pose the question, but to hear that she is like this, should I?”

“Maybe such a dinner will raise her spirits.”

Thorin sighed and closed his eyes.

“You doubt her love for you, don’t you?” Dis asked.

“How can I be so certain of it?”

“I see the way she looks as you, Thorin. There is no denying that.”

“I do not feel even this crown is enough for her,” Thorin said, his voice becoming tinged with pain and sadness.

Dis sat down on the opposite side of the desk. “You overcame the self-doubt of re-claiming Erebor from Smaug. How can you not overcome this? She is but one person…”

“Who holds my heart, Dis,” Thorin sighed. “I do not know if I could face rejection from her. If there is part of me that is cowardly, it is this. I would rather fight a thousand orcs than have to declare my love to her, only for it to be unrequited.”

***

Once the visitors from Dale had dispersed to the guest wing, you remained in your seat at the council table. The sight of Thorin had pulled you from the dreams. He raised the flutter in your stomach, the heat in your chest and a smile upon your lips.

Thorin glanced across at you and met your gaze. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of your smile, and he reciprocated that smile.

Dis smirked to herself from her seat beside you. In her mind, the two of you were complete idiots. The self-doubt was astounding, and it was the one thing that made you so alike, along with your loyalty and kindness. However, that was where your similarities ended.

One by one, everyone left the room, leaving only you and Thorin behind.

You got up, ready to leave, when he ushered you back. “May I have a moment with you?” he asked.

Thorin’s heart was pounding, but he was going to do this one way or the other. He would overcome the cowardice that was taking hold of him.

You stepped closer to him, and couldn’t help but smile again. He was incredibly handsome, and you had once dreamed of what his kiss would feel like, of what it would feel like to be one with him, and carry his child. This future you yearned for so ardently. But to be married to a king? It was a ridiculous notion.

“W…would you have dinner with me tonight?” Thorin asked.

This was the first time you had ever heard him stumble over his words. You could sense the uncertainty in his voice and posture. His blue eyes had now dropped to the floor. Reassurance was what he needed in those moments, to show him that you cared for him above everyone else. You took his hand in yours. “I would be honoured, my king,” you said.

Thorin’s gaze then locked with yours and he smiled, on the brink of a chuckle, as if relieved.

There were unsaid words lingering between you both, and the electricity was gathering momentum. Something had to break. “What troubles you?” you asked. On impulse, your free hand reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. Your other hand was still in his.

“I…I have wanted you for so long,” Thorin whispered. His eyes were ablaze with fear and doubt. “You consume me.”

Sighing, you pressed your forehead to his. “I am not worthy of you, my king. I never was.”

Thorin reached up and removed the crown from his head, placing it down on the table, and then cupped your cheeks. His gaze sank into yours, and then the two of you kissed.

***

“I would raise you up!” the figure snarled from your peripheral vision.

It was the witching hour once more and your dreams had pulled you back to the palace of shadows. The voice now had audible words.

“I will raise you up as a queen!” the voice came again. “He will always treat you as being beneath him.”

You swept through the dark corridors, chasing the voice. The only light was a fire burning in the distance, beckoning you on.

“He took off his crown for you. I would give you a crown, my queen. I would give you the world to do with as you please. Come to me.”

Heat furled in your stomach, spreading outward, causing that pulsing to begin again at the juncture of your thighs. “Where are you?” you called.

You entered a room where the back wall was brightly lit by the fire burning opposite. A huge bed dominated the centre of the room, filled with furs and black velvet sheets. A musky and earthy scent filled the room, and immediately you sensed eyes watching you.

Fear gripped you, mingled with arousal. And suddenly you felt a hand rest on your shoulder and then move downward, ghosting over your breasts, which were now bare. Your whole body was naked, open to whoever this creature was. The hand had long, black claws and the skin was crimson. The creature’s touch caused intense heat to spark beneath your skin as it kept moving, towards your navel. Electricity was surging around you and the pulsing got more intense, making a deep groan to erupt from you.

“He will never let you ascend to the place you should be,” the voice came again. The creature’s breath was hot on your neck. You felt something wet and hot slip up your neck to the point at which your earlobe connected to your cheek. “That is not love. I would worship you as my queen and my mate. Give you everything you’ve ever wanted; give you power.”

Your eyes shot open and you gasped. Realisation hit you: you were in bed, in Erebor. Next to the bed, on your table, was a red rose which Thorin had left you. The red petals reminded you of the creature’s skin, and it made you shiver.

Since your kiss with Thorin after the council meeting, and you had had dinner with him. The two of you shared in your memories of the quest, laughing and holding hands across the table. Then Thorin had shared a glass of wine with you, his silver blue eyes gazing at you in adoration and disbelief that you felt the same way as he. The two of you had walked slowly down the hallway, with your arm curled around his. “Goodnight, my love,” he whispered to you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. A blush flourished on his cheeks as you moved away.

In all the time you had known Thorin and you had always been attracted to him; his voice, eyes, presence. Everything about him made your chest ache, and cause a yearning for a deeper connection. Your heart was frantically beating, wanting him.

And now you were sat upon the edge of your bed, thinking of the caresses of a creature of the shadows. Whenever you were in the company of Thorin, all memory of the creature disappeared. And now that you were thinking upon the creature, Thorin’s face had faded.

***

After you had dressed, a knock came to your door.

You walked to the door and as you opened it, a huge smile curled your lips upward at the sight of Thorin.

The king reached for you, twirling you around, as if dancing. “I have requested breakfast be brought for us,” he said softly, pulling you in close and winding his arm around your waist.

You leaned to him and kissed him, feeling him immediately respond. Your tongues met in a pent up frustration that the two of you had held at bay for many months. All you could feel was sheer joy, delight and love radiating from your chest.

Thorin’s hands cupped your cheeks, his fingers caressing downward towards your jaw, tickling your earlobes.

A sudden flash of memory shot into your mind. The creature’s tongue leaving a trail of wet heat down your neck. The flash of memory made you jump.

“Are you alright?” Thorin asked, his eyes growing concerned.

For the first time and the creature was breaking through into your time with Thorin, beckoning you into the shadows. “Yes, I’m sorry,” you replied, holding your head in shame and disgust.

Thorin rested his finger against your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his. “You are not alright, dear one. Dis told me yesterday that you had not slept well. What bothers you? All of your cares and worries are also mine.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Thorin,” you replied, stepping back from him.

“Why do you feel I would not?” he snapped.

You sighed and closed your eyes, knowing you had deeply offended him.

I will raise you up. I will give you power beyond your wildest imaginations. 

 The voice was so real, yet still felt distant. It curled around you, making that arousal snake its way down your spine and between your legs. Your breathing sped up and you sat back down on the edge of the bed. “I can’t,” you gasped.

Thorin’s eyes were dark in anger and rejection, your words hitting him square in the chest so painfully. “If you cannot bare your all to me as I would do for you, then…”

“Thorin,” you said again. “Please. Don’t put this between us.”

“No, you are putting it between us.”

You could see the pain and despair sitting in his eyes, making his shoulders droop in defeat. With a sigh, you began to speak again. “I’ve been having dreams. A demonic creature is somehow connected to me and won’t leave me alone.”

Thorin fell to his knee in front of you and cupped your cheek again. “My love? Look at me.”

You looked into those eyes you loved so dearly.

“The creature cannot hurt you,” he said. “I promise you that while I breathe, I will always protect you.”

Once your breakfast had arrived, you began to eat, temporarily forgetting the creature. Thorin was sat in a chair beside your bed as you remained on the edge of your bed. He watched you eat and as you ate the last mouthful, he reached into the inside pocket of his robe, pulling out a velvet pouch.

“I know that our customs are different, but I wish to indulge the Dwarf custom and ask for your hand in courtship, as is right. And with that, I offer you this ring,” he said, taking a gold ring from the velvet bag.

You looked at the bright gold band which was adorned with amethyst stones, seven of them forming a circle in the gold. “You remembered when I told you that purple is my favourite colour,” you whispered.

Thorin smiled, and that blush rose on his cheeks again. He reached for your hand and slipped the gold band onto your ring finger on your right hand, knowing the left would be kept for engagement and marriage, as was your custom.

***

Thorin wished you a goodnight, and as he did, he kissed your cheek. “If you have any unwelcome dreams again, my love, please come to my chambers.”

The two of you parted ways and you placed another red rose in a vase on your bedside table.

My queen. 

The voice swept around you again. This time it was more powerful, sounding as though it were in the room with you.

Sleep and come to me. 

 You lost all control and slipped away, all consciousness leaving you. But as your conscious mind drifted away, your body rose from the bed and stepped toward the full length mirror at the bottom of your bed. Your eyes remained closed, yet your body knew where to tread. The surface of the mirror looked like silver water, and with one step, you disappeared into it.

***

Were you awake or still dreaming? Everything around you was dark, with only the light from the end of a hallway. You blinked hard and sat up. Everything around you felt so real; the cold surface of the stone beneath your legs and the chatter that you could hear. Distant voices whispered.

She is here. Finally she is here. The Lord of Darkness has finally found his mate and one true queen. 

 Darkness? Was that his name? The red creature.

You got to your feet and looked around, everything still so dark. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest, in both fear and anticipation. The glow of light beckoned you down the hallway, just as it had in your dream.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you turned the corner and found yourself in a large room with a bed in the centre, and opposite was an open fire. Everything was as it was in your dream the night before. Even the black velvet sheets and furs on the bed.

Suddenly you sensed a presence behind you and for a few seconds you were glued to the spot in fear.

“My queen,” a voice came. That deep, velvet voice. Just the sound of it made liquid fire burn in your belly.

A hand brushed around your neck and that all too familiar scent of musk and earth hit your nose. Even his smell was beckoning you, pulling at your very core, that most primal part of you.

Slowly you turned, and there before you was a creature who towered above you. His skin was crimson, with bright yellow eyes gazing at you in lust and amusement. His face was pointed, with angular features. Huge, black horns grew from his head. His upper torso was muscular, being the body of a man. As your gaze slipped down, you saw that from his waist down was the body of what appeared to be a goat. His waist and legs were covered in black fur. Considering that his form was one that would normally make terror rise in those that looked upon it, you felt fascinated.

“You are not disappointed by what you see, my lady?” Darkness asked.

Your gaze finally met his, and you felt an intense shiver race down the entirety of your body.

Darkness reached for you and picked up your hand, placing it against his chest. It was red hot. He closed his eyes upon your touch. “I have yearned for touch for centuries.” His voice was on the edge of a groan.

You gasped at the feel of him and the pleasure which radiated from his voice. Your hand slipped up his chest, toward his neck. Suddenly Darkness grabbed your hips and lifted you, and on instinct, you locked your legs around his waist.

He walked with you to the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. And as he stopped, hovering above the bed, he took your lips against his. The kiss was hot, heavy, demanding. His long tongue caressed the inside of your mouth, beckoning you forth.

As you parted from the kiss, he chuckled at you. “I will give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Pleasure beyond anything you have ever felt, power, riches. Ask and it will be yours. Never would I keep a crown from you as he does. He would see you without that power.”

Thorin. His face was so far away again, and you shook your head, trying to bring his handsome face back to the forefront of your memory but he would not come. “He knows that I do not feel worthy of him.”

“You are worthy of everything,” Darkness snarled. He lowered you to the edge of the bed and then reached for two glasses which were on a nearby table, pouring two glasses of wine. “The Dwarf would happily keep you beneath him to maintain his own ego.”

“You don’t know Thorin like I do,” you shot back.

“He thinks he can buy you with jewels.”

“And you can buy me with promises of pleasure and power.”

Darkness growled, his eyes locked on your ring. “Remove that ring and be mine; I would love you, worship you.”

You sipped the wine, feeling your body begin to scream for him once again. The intensity of his need of you, and his desperation.

You rose to your feet, placed the glass down on the table and then approached Darkness who had seated himself on the edge of the bed. For a couple of seconds, you studied his face. It was somehow handsome to you, in a way that you couldn’t fathom. You slid into his lap, straddling him and kissed him again. Within seconds and he was sucking your neck, his hands caressing your breasts, and the tips of his claws brushing over the fabric of your clothing.

Darkness’ breath was rising, that animal side of him also breaking out. His hands ripped your clothes and flung them to the far side of the room. “I will make you feel things you have never felt before,” he moaned against you as you rose up onto your knees, still resting on his thighs. Your arms were tight around is neck. “Fuck you until you are numb.”

The words spurred you on and you kissed him again, hard and ferocious. He picked you up  in his muscular arms and slipped you around, lowering you to the bed so he was now in control.

Darkness kissed down your body, his long tongue sliding across your flesh. He could taste the first hints of sweat on you, and he revelled in the salty flavour. Your breasts, down your stomach and into the space between your thighs.

“I have never known someone so wanton,” Darkness grinned. “I can smell you. The intensity of it is enough to send me to the brink. And, even better, you are ovulating. I will keep going until you bear my child, no matter how long it takes. If I have to keep you locked in here for days, so be it. I may even call the goblins in to watch.”

The words made your whole head swarm with a haze of euphoria. The pulsing between your legs was so intense now that you locked your legs around his waist again, dragging him in closer.

Darkness laced his hand in yours and eased your ring from your finger. It fell to the stone floor and rolled away. “I will bring you so much more than he could!” Darkness chuckled.

***

Thorin had remained awake that night, unable to rest at the thought of you being haunted by the demon creature. All he could think of was holding you to his chest, fighting away all of those disturbing night visions.

He rose from his bed, pulling a robe on and began his walk down the main hallway toward your chamber. Torches lit his way and as he got to your room, he opened the door, knowing you would probably be asleep. However, as he trailed the darkness, following the gentle glow of the candle at your bedside, he saw you were nowhere to be seen.

Terror rose in his chest at the thought of you having disappeared from him. He gazed around the room, noticing a blue glow coming from the mirror at the end of your bed. The surface was moving, reminding him of liquid silver.

Thorin stepped towards the mirror, confused and shocked.

***

Your whole body was on fire and you writhed on the bed as Darkness’ hands roamed you. The tips of his claws gently scratched your breasts and stomach, drawing a loud groan from you.

“Give yourself to me and seal it, be my mate and queen,” Darkness said, his hot breath wafting across your belly.

You groaned again and arched off the bed, your body needing him.

Darkness may have held the rationale of humans, but he was more animal. That need to possess you and impregnate you was becoming unbearable, and the more you groaned and writhed, the closer he was to forcing himself upon you. His member had risen and was visible through his thick, black fur.

“Will you accept me?” he asked, his tongue licking your earlobe. The palm of his hand was cupping the mound at the juncture of your thighs, and his fingers tickled, circling the aroused flesh.

All you could do was groan again. Your hands were gripping the sheets so tight that it felt you were about to fall off the knife’s edge there and then, and completely succumb. An image flashed through your mind, a picture of you standing before a mirror, clothed entirely in black. Beneath your dress was a huge belly, showing your ability to conceive Darkness’ child. The reflection you only just recognised as yourself; your eyes were completely black, overtaken by evil and the desire for power. And there, behind your reflection, was Thorin. “My love?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“THORIN!’ you screamed suddenly, jerking away from Darkness.

Darkness growled, his whole face turning livid. “Useless bitch!” he shouted. His hand swung outwards and slapped your face, knocking you off the bed.

Terror took over as you scrambled backwards, edging away from him as he circled the bed.

“You DARE raise a hand to her!” a voice came from the room’s entrance.

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice. It was Thorin. He must have been able to slip through the mirror and had followed the corridor.

Darkness chuckled. “I’m going to enjoy this, Dwarf. I’ll make her watch every single moment of me ripping your heart out of your chest. Then I’ll eat it in front of her.”

Thorin’s face remained darkened by anger and hatred towards this filthy beast before him. He looked down to you, and in those moments, the hatred melted as he smiled at you. “Leave when you can,” he told you. “Make for the corridor.” Then his silver blue eyes turned back to the demon who was slowly approaching him.

“You think you can defeat me?” Darkness laughed. “I have lived for millennia, feeding off the pain, hate and need for pleasures. I cannot think you believe I can be defeated so easily.”

Something touched your hand, a cold metal. It was your ring. You slipped it back onto your hand quickly, and as you did, your clothing magically returned to your body, appearing around you.

Thorin was defenceless, without a weapon. His eyes scanned the room, until Darkness was upon him.

A red hand reached out and grabbed Thorin by the throat, pushing him against the wall.

A shriek erupted from your mouth and you lunged at the two glasses on the table, smashing one against the floor. As quick as a flash, adrenaline pumping through you, you slashed at Darkness’ chest, you only just being able to reach. Then as he howled and turned, you aimed for his neck. Blood began to spurt out of the wound, making him drop Thorin to the ground. The creature continued howling, twisting in pain and anger.

Thorin grabbed your hand and the two of you began your race back through the corridor, hearing Darkness’ loud stamps behind you.

Terror gripped you in your chest and you continued running, both you and Thorin keeping at each other’s pace.

“I’ll kill the fucking pair of you!” Darkness howled.

At the end of the corridor was the same silver shine from the mirror, which had covered the entire wall. Without even thinking, the two of you jumped through, landing back on the stone floor of your chamber in Erebor.

Thorin dashed around and grabbed the edge of the mirror just as a red arm reached through. But the demon could not win. With a flash of blue light and an animalistic howl, the mirror was thrown to the floor and smashed.

Shards of mirror sprayed across the floor, spreading the entire width of the room.

You stood still, your heart pounding so hard in your chest and felt tears spill down your cheeks. Shame and guilt hit you so hard that you placed your hands on the edge of the bed and wretched, bringing back a mouthful of red wine mixed with bile.

Thorin heard your wretch and raced to your side, curling his arm around your waist. “My love…”

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Don’t call me that, please.” All you could do was weep, your shoulders juddering in your throes of anguish. “I’m sorry…” you sobbed. “I was so close to being taken from you forever. I know you’ll never forgive me.” You shifted away from Thorin. “Don’t touch me.”

He whispered your name. “Please…”

“I can’t.”

Thorin took your hand, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles. “I promised you that I would always protect you, and I will never stop. That beast attempted to seduce you, my love. The promise of pleasures and wealth can be easy to fall prey to. I know that all too well, yet you seem to forget that.”

“Thorin, don’t talk about that. What happened with the gold…”

“Was a seduction. Mine was of the mind and yours was of the body, but our hearts are what guides us. I heard you call my name, and it was you that called me back from the edge of being completely lost to madness.”

Tears still run down your cheeks and you turned away from Thorin, closing your eyes. You felt nothing but guilt and shame, dragging you down to the lowest you had ever felt. “I can’t do this. I can’t…”

Without another word, Thorin pulled you in to himself and kissed you. It was slow at first, warm and wanting, and then it became deeper. Your whole chest was now alight with such joy and delight; that was how you wanted to feel, not ashamed and at odds with your body. Kissing Thorin was where your whole body became synced and aligned. Your heart was beating with joy, your body was aroused by him, and your mind knew that this was true love.

“That’s how love feels,” you whispered. “It’s at the core of everything.”

Thorin pressed his brow to yours. “Forgive yourself, dear one. Let tonight pass from your memory, and in its place, we shall forge a new life together where our love and lust can exist in equal measure.”

“I cannot believe you can forgive me,” you said, kissing his temple. “I betrayed you physically.”

Thorin sighed. “My love, there have been stories told through time regarding the dark powers that can easily seduce the weakest willed of people. You fought that; this was no ordinary seduction. That beast had power. I could feel it as soon as I entered his domain. You said that he had been coming to you in dreams, beckoning you. Dream walkers have been spoke about for many years.”

“I hope he’s gone now, but I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end. He’ll come for me again. He wanted me to give myself to him and even removed my ring.”

“Because that is a symbol of our love. Even without it, that love we share saved you.”

You brushed your fingers idly through Thorin’s hair. “You have no idea how beautiful you are,” you told him, feeling nothing but awe for him. “And to think that you want me as I want you.”

“Shh, come now,” Thorin cooed. He took your hand and pulled you up from the bedside. “I will have a bath drawn for us.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” you giggled.

“I wish to pamper you and surely there is no time limit on that.”

Thorin did as proposed and requested that a bath be drawn for you both. As the hot water poured into the tiled bath, fresh towels and soaps were brought to you both. Two serving girls smiled at you in amusement as they dashed back and forth, preparing everything.

By the time everything was ready, Thorin stepped across to you and stood behind you, kissing the base of your neck. “I can feel the tension in your shoulders, my love. Come and relax.”

You both disrobed, neither of you feeling an ounce of shame, considering this was the first time you had seen each other naked.

The bath was large with two steps that led down, it reminding you of a small swimming pool. Steam rose from the water and your first step in stung slightly as the hot water met your cool skin.

Thorin stepped in after you and you couldn’t help but keep your gaze locked on his broad shoulders. He was muscular, toned by years of activity from combat and working as a blacksmith. That also meant that he was littered with small scars. As you had imagined, he was well endowed, showing off quite an impressive girth.

For a second you thought back on your feelings that had been uncovered by your time with Darkness. Everything had been pure attraction and arousal, like molten lava coursing through you. But looking upon Thorin was different; every part of you was awakened. All of your body was ignited in your love for him.

He gazed at you, his silver blue depths bright with love and admiration. There was a contentment in his eyes that you had never seen before his revelation of love. Before that and he had always held sadness in his face. It had always been your belief that behind a lot of Thorin’s frustrations was sadness and hurt. You wanted to heal him.

The two of you embraced and then kissed. Thorin’s hands were slow to move, starting off in your hair and then moving down to your neck, your shoulders, breasts. There was no force or rush like there had been with Darkness.

Thorin washed you slowly, massaging the sponge covered in soap over the skin of your upper back. “You are quiet,” he said.

“I’m just enjoying your presence, and contemplating how you make me feel.”

“Oh? Do you wish to indulge me?”

You giggled. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” Thorin whispered to your ear.

You turned around to face him. “I want to give myself to you, now.”

“There is no rush, my love. Considering what you have been through tonight…”

“That doesn’t matter. I want you, Thorin. Every part of you. If you’ll let me have it.”

Thorin never answered and pressed his lips to yours hungrily, letting you know his answer. It would only ever be a resounding yes.

The two of you slipped out of the bath, drew towels around your waist and made your way back to your chamber. Once inside, you stood before Thorin and let your towel drop to the floor. He rushed at you again, drawing his hands up your cheeks and groaning at the impact.

You leaned back on the bed, him following you.

Thorin’s lips trailed down your body slowly, his beard tickling the hot skin. That arousal was surging again, only this time it was mingled with something far deeper: love. This time you wanted to bond with Thorin, connect with him in every way that was possible.

You felt his fingers delve into the curls at the juncture of your thighs and immediately you felt your inner core begin to want more, so much more. A groan escaped your lips and slowly Thorin’s fingers circled your sweet nub and then delved into your womanhood.

Thorin kissed your neck as he began a rhythmic movement inside you.

You clutched his shoulders, feeling the waves begin to ascend. That all too familiar sensation of wanting to get as high as you could to feel that powerful burst. His name fell off your lips, feeling so right and such an integral part of your soul.

“My love,” he whispered in your ear. He kissed down your cheek, wanting you to feel his love radiating through his hands to you.

“Stop,” you told him, pulling his hand away. “I want you.”

Thorin swallowed deeply and felt a sliver of arousal shoot down his spine upon your words. He’d imagined this so many times over the last few months, unable to let the fantasy go. The elation in his chest made him smile at you.

His smile was the most beautiful sight to behold. “I love you,” you told him.

You kissed again, and this time, Thorin took your hands in his while his member rested between your legs.

That intense pulsing was beckoning him in, wanting him to ride you towards heaven. You nudged yourself forwards, reassuring Thorin that this was all you wanted in those moments.

As you joined, you groaned into his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. You remembered Darkness’ words about you ovulating. And as Thorin rocked against you, you saw a vision flash before your eyes. It was you in a wedding gown, with a circlet upon your head. The circlet matched the design of Thorin’s crown. Your gown was midnight blue, matching Thorin’s signature colour of choice. And there, beneath your resting hands, on your stomach, was a bump. This was the future you wanted, you needed, and which was destined.

You and Thorin continued your thrusts against each other, wanting to reach the pinnacle of physical pleasure together, and topple off hand in hand, hopefully creating that precious life you had just envisioned.

The waves of euphoria kept on building as Thorin maintained his rhythm, until the final wave crashed out, pouring heat and electricity outward from the pit of your stomach.

Thorin felt you shake and contract around him, and your moans of pleasure caused his peak to also come. He kept his lips against yours, groaning into the kiss.

Panting, the two of you embraced as Thorin withdrew from you.

Thorin didn’t have to keep reminding you of being a queen, you already knew that in your heart. All that mattered was you knowing that he loved you far more than anything else in his life.

***

The defeated Lord of Darkness sat upon his throne, a mirror in his hand. He had watched the whole spectacle unfold before his eyes; you had given yourself to the Dwarf King of Erebor, and there had been no persuasion on his part. Everything had been so freely given.

Darkness had already kicked one goblin across the room, as one gawked over his shoulder, enjoying the show inside the mirror. He enjoyed it so much that he had started masturbating behind the throne, hiding away so his master couldn’t see him.

“You cannot outrun me,” Darkness growled, watching as you and Thorin lay together in each other’s arms. “I can wait and when the times comes, I will strike again.

**

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Middle-earth tag list: @valkyrie-of-the-light @deadlymistletoe

The Hobbit: @flowerniche @kryshopes

#The Hobbit #Legend (1985) #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #Lord of Darkness #Richard Armitage #Tim Curry #Female Reader Insert #Reader Insert #Fanfiction #The Hobbit Fanfiction #Thorin Oakenshield Fanfiction #Thorin x you #thorin x fem!reader #thorin x reader #Thorin Oakenshield x you #Thorin Oakenshield x reader #thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader #Lord of Darkness x Reader #Lord of Darkness x Fem!Reader #Lord of Darkness x You #Darkness x You #Darkness x Fem!Reader #Darkness x Reader

[flyingwargle]

lyney considers himself a decent older brother. he ensures that both his sister and younger brother are cared for, neither of their needs are prioritized over another (with exceptions, of course), and he pays attention to both of them. the last one is relatively easy since they’re both introverts with their own hobbies. all they do is share the same space and atmosphere.

that’s usually the case, but freminet has been spending a suspicious amount of time in his room lately.

ever since they started living altogether, they’ve made one boundary clear: to never enter one another’s private spaces. there are exceptions, as well, such as lyney’s walk-in closet because he loves sharing his hats with his siblings (although none of them have taken up on his offer of having their own custom top hat), and the magic workshop in the basement. their personal bedrooms, however, remain off-limits, until now.

lyney stands in front of the closed door. it’s locked, but it’s child’s play for a magician – three, two, one, and poof! he materializes the master keyring, searching for the correct one to insert into the keyhole.

“i wouldn’t do that, if i were you.”

he doesn’t startle. “curiosity is my greatest sin, my dear sister. unless you can shed some light on what’s being kept on the other side?”

“something that doesn’t concern us.”

“since when did we become a family with secrets?”

silence. he’s either sarcastic or genuine. it depends on the time and place. “he doesn’t work on his toys in the living room anymore,” lynette says slowly.

“indeed. the reason must be related to them, but how? why?” lyney supposes all the marvels that freminet has tinkered with before are kept in his room. he had offered him the spare room in the basement before, but their youngest brother refused, still clinging onto a childhood fear of dark staircases and hallways.

his sister shrugs. “he has his interests.” just like she has a tea collection, and lyney with his hat collection – ever growing, never ending. “it isn’t right for us to interfere.”

“i just want to make sure he’s okay. if he’s up to something harmless, i’ll back down. if it’s something more…” he trails off. his own words hit too close for comfort. “a quick peek wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

he receives neither an answer nor resistance. lynette is still as he inserts the key, hears the lock retract, and turns the knob. the door creaks open when pushed.

it’s dark. the light is blocked behind the drawn curtains. the bed, pushed against the wall, is made with sheets pulled tightly, pillows straight as soldiers at ease. only one half of the room is clean, as if the clutter is reserved for the workbench and closet on the other half.

there is diving gear scattered on the floor, spilling out from the closet drawers. lyney tiptoes around them, summoning a small flame in his palm for illumination. the workbench is similar to his own in the magic workshop, except covered with screwdrivers, nuts and bolts, wrenches, chalk, rulers. a mat rests in the center, where three identical trinkets rest. they’re penguins, the same as pers.

upon closer inspection, he notices each of them are colored to match their corresponding motifs.

“wow.” he’s awed. “so that’s…”

“lyney? lynette?”

he jumps. freminet is at the doorway, eyes on them. lynette recedes into the shadows, guilty by association. lyney extinguishes his flame, along with a nonchalant wave. “ah, freminet! i thought- i thought you were still at the court…”

“i left early.” his brother’s voice is soft, not at all scandalized. he steps closer. “so…you noticed that i was hiding something?”

“ah…well, you know i have to make sure you’re okay. i am your big brother, after all. it looks like all is well, so we’ll get out of your hair!” lyney grabs his sister on his way out, steering her by the shoulders toward the doorway. freminet stops them.

“i’m not upset. you just ruined your own surprise.”

“huh?” lyney grinds to a halt.

“you said that you wanted new props for your magic show. i’m still in the process of designing them, but…” freminet steps toward the workbench, gesturing at the penguins. “they won’t be ready for this week’s show, but maybe…maybe the next one after.”

lyney is silent. he releases lynette, moves back to the workbench. with a glance at freminet for permission, he picks up the crimson penguin. it fits in his hand, which makes it easy to palm. it’s light, durable, with bright eyes and moving flaps. it’s hollow on the inside, so he could hide something in there. it’s obvious that it was designed for a magician, full of possibility and marvel.

“can i help you finish them?”

freminet pauses, hesitant. when he nods, the corners of his lips curve into a smile. “of course.”

“me, too.” lynette joins them in the light, peering over their older brother’s shoulder.

“yes. i’ll tell you what else we need to do.”

one by one, they pick up a penguin, a tool, and get to work, guided by freminet, to improve the outer design and functionality. lyney pushes the curtains aside, breathes in the afternoon air. he glances over his shoulder. “why don’t we take this to the living room? there’s more space there, and it’s brighter.”

it’s back to routine, accompanied by cups of tea and laughter. lyney smiles as they work, chirping back replies and diligently following instructions. his smile never fades.

and he hopes to keep his siblings close for as long as he can.

#genshin impact #text #flyingwargle original #drabble #genshin drabble #fontaine siblings #lyney #lynette #freminet #no spoilers for fontaine!! #i haven't done the quest yet #so i'm still holding on the fantasy that i'm right

[elderberries-and-honey]

Jackson had tried his best to keep up with the farm while The Baudelaire's had been away. However, it had proved to be harder than he realized, especially in his old age, and after all, he still had a pub to manage. All the same, by the end of the summer, it became overgrown and unruly. Truthfully, he was a little ashamed and while it wasn't his fault, he felt mortified about the state of the farm.

He stood out in the thick of things, attempting to put even the smallest band-aid over the mess by trimming some of the weeds before their arrival, while Valerie stood over his shoulder trying to instruct him on the 'proper' way to do things.

Beth, who at one time would have loved to challenge Valerie or call her bossy, ignored their bickering. Instead, her and Ozzy stayed nearby, enjoying the warm Autumn air and sunshine on their faces.

Aside from their crops, the farm remained mostly unbothered. All of their animals, both pets and frequent visitors alike, were well taken care of and if nothing else, at least there was that.

Neither Winifred or Lawrence brought up their encounter with the Cooper kid, walking along aside each other in silence the remainder of the way. Both of them put it out of their mind's eye, for the moment anyway, when at long last, they were home.

Valerie was the first to notice them, grabbing Lawrence into a tight hug while she playfully scolded him for being gone so long the way only a maternal figure can.

Ozzy and Beth neared the open gate, all the excitement making the tot giggle near uncontrollably. Winifred squatted down to his level, opening her arms wide. "My baby!" She cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Little Ozzy blinked in confusion, looking up to his Auntie Beth for help as he hid behind her skirt. "Go on, Ozzy, go say hello to your Mum! It's okay, I promise." She encouraged.

Of all the things Winifred had tried to prepare herself for upon their return, her son not recognizing her hadn't been one of them. With every second that tiptoed by she could feel her chest getting heavy as she was finally faced with the reality of what being away for so long had done to her boy. She stared the little one, trying to keep her face from falling into an expression of despair.

It seemed like everyone was holding their breath in wait; Beth in particular fearing a tantrum. 'Please, not now...please, Ozzy.' Beth pleaded wordlessly, and by the grace of God, her private prayers were answered.

Ozzy looked back up at Winifred, some instinct recognizing a distant sense of familiarity within her face, and he soon raced towards her. "Oh, my sweet boy, I've missed you so." Winifred murmured once he reached her, wrapping her arms around him to hold him against her tightly.

Lawrence approached them once he was sure it was safe and wrapped an arm around Winifred. "Hello Oscar," he said softly, "I'm your daddy, and that there is your Mum. And you, little one, are going to be a big brother!" He tutted, placing a gentle hand against Winifred's belly.

Last time they were here, motherhood felt so heavy, like a burden more than a blessing. As she held Ozzy now, she promised herself she would never leave him again. Standing there together, Winifred realized it was the first time she truly felt like they were a family.

next / previous / first

#ts4 historical #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 storytelling #sims 4 storystelling #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #the baudelaire legacy #1890 #winifred baudelaire #lawrence baudelaire #oscar baudelaire #beth herbert #jackson mcadams #valerie mcadams

[thatonebrazilian]

Sanctum

Part 1, part 2, part 3 (coming soon)...

Summary: Sanctum (noun) 1. a sacred place, especially a shrine within a temple or church. 2. a private place from which most people are excluded. After everything that happened, WestView became your sanctum. And you would not let anyone desecrate it.

(In which SW!Wanda shows up in a universe where her variant is dead. There’s only you and the boys. But this Wanda had never met you in her universe, and you were way too damaged and traumatized to let her in.)

A/N: I'm sick and tired of Wanda not being happy. First the movies, and now a lot of fics. I need this girl to be happy for once.

Also, I'm posting this on a whim, I normally like to have a few chapters written before I post anything (or at least an outlined plot), but SW!Wanda has been consuming my thoughts lately and I had to do something about it.

MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS AHEAD

Warnings: A bit of violence, I think.

Word count: 1500

Wanda could feel the girl’s startled breaths beneath her fingers, her hand wrapped tightly against America’s throat.

It was never supposed to be like this. She didn’t want to hurt this child, killing her through power absorption would’ve been faster, quicker, painless. But no, the girl had to fight, and Strange had to intervene.

She just wanted her children back.

America grunted, her fist glowing white, yet her eyes told the Scarlet Witch just what her mouth had told her before. She knew she couldn’t defeat Wanda.

“You want these powers?” America asked then, eyes watering “You can have them!”

A portal opened up, and Wanda wasn’t sure about America’s intent, but whatever it had been, America probably hadn’t taken into account how little control she had over her powers. The Scarlet Witch suspected the girl wanted to take her to Earth-838 to see all the damage she’d done personally, but instead, America took her to another Earth altogether.

Wanda didn’t know that, though, she didn’t think of anything when she saw the boys sitting on the couch. Her boys; her children. Billy and Tommy.

It was as if time had slowed down then, the children’s eyes widened and they tumbled out of the couch, scrambling away, getting as far from Wanda and America as possible. As if they were afraid of her.

Wanda swore her heart was breaking. Fear was never supposed to be the emotion in her children’s eyes when they looked at her.

“I-is that?...” Billy asked from behind the stairs’ railing.

“I-it can’t be…” Tommy said.

The Scarlet Witch looked at them, her fingers almost unconsciously letting go of America’s throat; her hand shook as she extended it in her kids’ direction, taking a step towards them.

“Boys…” she said, her voice trembling as much as her hands.

“Ma!” Billy yelled, frightened, trying to hide behind his brother.

“Ma! Help!” Tommy shouted too, standing protectively in front of his sibling.

Instead of a variant, as Wanda had expected, some other woman came running down the stairs. The Scarlet Witch couldn’t see her face; she felt a surge of fury when this woman gathered the boys, her sons, in her arms. The woman only then seemed to notice Wanda, finally raising her head to look at her.

Wanda’s breath was taken away, you were a marvel, beautiful in every way possible. If this was any other situation, if she wasn’t still in love with Vision, if she weren’t so hell-bent on getting her sons back, she may have admired your beauty more.

But at that moment all she wanted was for that stranger to get her hands off of her sons.

Upon meeting the witch’s eyes, your own widened.

“Wanda?” you asked then, pulling the boys behind you again, shaking your head “No, that’s not possible, you’re dead, you and Natasha- you’re…” you trailed off, eyes hardening. “God promised you’d be in Heaven, he said he had your souls, he promised you’d be happy…”

The Scarlet Witch furrowed her brows. What were you talking about?

“Ma, is this really her?” Billy asked then, looking at you.

Wanda saw your eyes glaze a little, she saw you looking up as if you could see something she couldn’t. She saw your shoulders sag a little, a defeated look on your face. You shook your head, then, looking at your child, her child, before turning to her with hardened eyes “this is not your mother, boys, get behind me.”

The Scarlet Witch’s eyes hardened as well. Who did you think you were, telling her sons to stay away from her?

“Don’t listen to her, boys” Wanda said to the kids, her powers glowing brightly in her hands, her eyes then focusing on you “these are my children.”

And then she saw your eyes turn dark, a black glow engulfing your own fingers. “Whoever you are, you’re not Wanda, and I’m not about to let you anywhere near my sons.”

Wanda felt the all-consuming rage inside her screech at your words, without even thinking she threw a blast of red magic at you, but to her utter surprise, and ultimate relief, you easily blocked it, protecting you and the kids from it.

“Stay back, boys!” you yelled at them, using your magic to send them further back into the kitchen, far away from the woman in front of you.

The Scarlet Witch was consumed by that ugly, mixed feeling inside her; there was rage, sadness, jealousy, grief, envy… She couldn’t think clearly, she just wanted her children back. She used her magic to make the sofa levitate and then threw it at you, but you stopped it midair. Wanda took advantage of your distraction, you were a bit preoccupied when the witch showed up above you, using her powers to blast you to the ground; the impact was such it created a crater, and your broken body lay in its center.

“Ma!”

“Mamma!”

The boys came running to help you, and to Wanda’s utter surprise, you easily stood up, using your sleeves to wipe the blood from your face. How, she wondered, was it possible for you to still be alive? Your body should have crumpled at the force.

“Billy, Tommy, stay behind me, I’m not gonna let her hurt you.” You yelled at the kids, levitating out of that crater, landing in front of the witch.

The kids listened to you, and Wanda found herself getting even madder. Who were you and how come her kids listened to you like this? How come they saw you as a mother?

Out of jealousy and rage, Wanda shot more and more magic blasts at you, but you simply blocked all of her strikes as if it was the easiest thing in the world. But then one especially powerful blast pushed you back, making your body go through the wall and out of the house.

“Leave our ma alone!” the boys yelled, picking up anything they could put their eyes on and throwing it at the witch. “Our ma will not lose! She has us by her side!”

Wanda’s eyes filled with tears. It was never supposed to be like this.

“Stay out of this, boys! Get out of the house, it’s not safe in here.” You said, flying back in as if you hadn’t just been thrown through a wall.

When Wanda saw the boys hesitating, but ultimately complying, she gritted her teeth. As soon as they were out the witch made the ceiling come down on your head. The structure of the house was already compromised enough, you lifted your hands trying to keep this place, your place, standing. You held off the ceiling and kept the wall from tumbling down, but Wanda didn’t stop, as you were trying to keep your house up the witch threw blast after blast at you, but each and every one of them splashed uselessly against a barrier made of black magic.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?!” Wanda yelled, tears pooling in her eyes “Fight me back!”

Wanda stopped shooting blasts at you when she felt something hit against her. It was a small ball of blue magic, she looked at the backyard through the hole in the wall you went through and saw Billy conjuring the balls and Tommy using a bat to throw them at her in record speed. She didn’t know what to do; she looked at the destroyed house, the frightened, brave children outside, and then at you. She sank to her knees.

“Why won’t you fight back?” she asked in a small voice, her face tear-stained.

You managed to mend the house, securing the ceiling back, strengthening the walls and the structure, and the boys came to stand behind you again. You looked at them and then looked at the witch.

You understood her.

“Because I can’t hurt you,” you said, walking towards her and cupping her face in one of your hands, gently wiping her tears away. “You may not be our witchy, but you’re still Wanda. I could never hurt you.”

Wanda looked at you then, the rollercoaster of emotions making her want to embrace the person she was just trying to kill. “But… who are you?”

Who were you? Which universe was this? And if there was a universe where she didn’t have her children, and a universe where her children didn’t have her, why couldn’t they just be together? There were a million questions haunting Wanda’s mind.

You smiled at her, a sad smile, it was almost as if you knew what questions were going through her head.

Maybe there was still time for this Wanda, maybe she could be redeemed. Everyone deserved a second chance, after all.

You got one, even when you didn’t want it, why shouldn’t she?

“My name’s Y/N, and…” you said, looking at Strange and the Chavez girl before bringing your gaze back to the witch “this is Earth-Delta… Your new home, if you don’t have anywhere else to go.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wandavision #post wandavision #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #sw!wanda #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x yn #scarlet witch x y/n #dsmom spoilers #multiverse of madness #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda fanfic

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 1

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: A mission gone wrong results in you losing a large part of your memory. What happens when you wake up and you can't remember the love of your life?

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Big thanks to my friend, @cordeliasdarling , for betaing most of this fic :)

Word count: 827

You Don’t Even Know You’re An Angel

Captain Marvel’s ship lands on the Avengers compound, as soon as the door opens she carries your body out to the medical team who already awaited your arrival. There is worry and fear all over her features. She lays you onto the stretcher and follows them to the med bay. You go into immediate surgery and she is forced to wait outside.

Not long after, Fury finds her and sits beside her, "It was an ambush, I didn’t see it coming. She was unconscious when I found her," she says, tears running down her face.

Fury puts an arm around her, "She’s gonna be okay," is all he can say.

After several hours of surgery doctor Cho comes out to find Carol. She explains everything they did to you and how they’re gonna follow up next, "She’s gonna make it," that’s all Carol hears and it’s enough to allow her to breathe again.

"Thank you, can I come see her?" Her voice is desperate.

"It’s best to let her rest for now, you should get some rest yourself." The Captain nods and reluctantly goes to find one of the empty rooms upstairs.

A couple of days go by and you remain unconscious, Carol awaits anxiously to see you, but doctor Cho advises against it. She hasn’t slept at all, the trauma of seeing the love of her life lay almost lifeless before her too heavy to bear.

The next morning Kamala is sitting with The Captain attempting to cheer her up when the doctor comes to find her. "Can we talk? Privately."

Kamala goes to stand up, but Carol stops her, "Stay," she instructs before directing her attention to doctor Cho, "what is it?"

"It looks like she’s gonna make a full physical recovery, but there has been some damage to her brain" the doctor explains quickly so as to not get anyones hopes up.

"What do you mean?" Carol asks with a shaky voice.

"There are indications of memory loss, but it is impossible to tell the gravity of it until she wakes up." The Captain looks at her intently, "You may come see her now."

Carol walks slowly into your room, Kamala following her closely. You’re still asleep, looking weak and hooked to more machines than they can count. The Captain approaches you and carefully holds one of your hands, almost as if you’d crumble if she held it too tight, "I’m so sorry I let this happen to you, angel, you’re gonna be okay and I’ll be right here with you," she whispers, trying to stop a sob from escaping. Kamala can only watch the scene unfold in front of her, unsure of what she should do.

Some time goes by and they settle for sitting in the room and waiting to see what happens. Kamala takes it upon herself to distract Carol from the unconscious body of her lover. They’re in the middle of a heated argument about some menial topic when the heart rate monitor starts beeping faster and you stir awake. "I’ll go find doctor Cho," the girl jumps to her feet.

The blond woman stands up instinctively and gets closer to you, "Hey," is all she can muster.

"Hey," you respond, your voice is raspy.

"You’re awake." A smile begins to form on her face.

"Yeah, where am I?"

"We’re at the compound." Her voice is impossibly soft, you nod in understanding, "Kamala went to get doctor Cho."

You pause for a moment, "So you’re not my doctor?" She falls silent.

The doctor arrives, followed by the brunette girl and she begins to perform some tests on you, after confirming everything physical is in order she begins to ask you some questions.

"Do you remember your name?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where we are?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"No."

"You were on a mission that went wrong," she explains, "do you remember your partner?"

The blonde woman looks at you expectantly, holding out every last bit of hope, "No." She feels like she’s just been stabbed in the chest, unable to take it anymore she storms out of the room.

"Okay," the doctor begins, "it seems you have lost some of your memory. However, the extent of that you will have to find out on your own. Everything physical looks fine, I’m afraid there is nothing else we can do for you."

A nurse comes by to give you a care package and pain meds, you’re ready to leave when you see the brunette girl still standing in the room, "Can I help you?"

Recognizing the severity of the situation and realizing that no one else is gonna take charge she decides to take matters into her own hands. She puts on a big smile and says, "I’m Kamala and I have been appointed your re-orientation agent."

It takes you a moment to register her words, "Did you just make that up?"

"Follow me." Her smile not faltering.

Tell me all your thoughts!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

Chapter 2

#Carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers angst #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #kamala khan #valkyrie

[there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow]

Notes on privacy and safety for Will and Mike:

@aemiron-main made this excellent connection about how, due to Henry being able to appear in the memory of the Snowball with Max because Henry was watching the dance in s2, Will has a severe lack of safe memories because of how long Henry has been watching Will. His safest memories would have to be pre-s1 and even then further back. We know the swingset memory would have to be important for this reason, but this knowledge still goes to show just how invaded Will’s safety is. And because Henry has possessed Will before, would this not potentially jeopardize his safety even more? Henry possessed him, having taken frontal control of his mind. This would allow Henry the ability to see ALL of Will’s memories, right? It says so much about what could and will transpire in s5.

Will is, practically, thoroughly exposed to Henry. All of his personal privacy is potentially shared with Henry, none of which Will has had a choice in. Your own mind and the memories stored within should be an objectively safe place. Should be. This could additionally open up greater discussion on the affects of trauma and PTSD—how unsafe you can feel due to what you’ve experienced. Henry takes vulnerability and the feeling of being unsafe (as well as insecurity) for his advantage.

But on the topic of privacy itself, again, Will’s safe memories should be safe but they may not be. A lot of them probably aren’t. He’s been watched and intruded upon, mentally and physically scoured. His own safety/security is compromised due to this lack of privacy.

@sandinmybed and I recently had a great discussion about privacy and crossed boundaries regarding Mike (awesome perspectives from Sand). In a way, it made me think of aemiron’s post about Will. Here is the original thread this discussion is on, and below I have the parts of that discussion that reminded me of this ‘lack of safety’:

Sand:

Me:

Sand:

Me:

-

What I mainly want to pull from here for this post is that there is a theme of personal space being made unsafe and forced vulnerability. Your mind is a naturally enclosed space that retains your thoughts and memories. Your sense of privacy is also an enclosed space, set up by yourself and so naturally comes with boundaries too. Will has a lack of safety because of Henry encroaching his mind and overall space. Mike has a lack of feeling safe by means of his personal space being intruded on. It’s not something Mike has been able to control either; especially when El used her powers to spy on him (this is not to put El in a bad light; this is to highlight a lack of control on Mike’s end). His and Will’s situations are vastly different, but this theme is apparent and each situation has weaving points. It’s unwanted exposure, confidential info meant to be shared or not put on display (our minds are naturally enclosed but we can share them if we choose to, as well as our private spaces if we choose to open them; having your privacy taken from you takes away your sense of autonomy).

Something obvious to draw from this is the horrible fear of getting outed. There is a clear difference between coming out on your own terms versus being outed against your will. Many of us expect Mike to get outed because of Henry (myself included). Henry is always watching and gathering personal info to turn against others—to force their vulnerability. Mike’s boundaries are constantly crossed, his own privacy brushed off and even made light of. Mike is the character who especially has a [hidden but not so hidden] pattern of hiding. It has been made noticeable that there is a lack of control with his securities and boundaries. Of course Henry will take advantage of this. He already has been. He has seen enough of Mike—spied on Mike enough—to encroach upon his safety too.

And as Sand and I talked about… it is an incredibly interesting point that Mike’s personal space with Will is continuously interrupted/intruded on. Will’s feelings for Mike is one part of what is personal to him and certainly known by Henry. Mike’s feelings for Will have to be known by Henry too. Even the Jaws poster behind two Byler heart-to-hearts is just further indicative of Henry’s intrusion, one of many instances of Will and Mike’s lack of safety.

#it boggles my mind a bit how LONG it’s been going on #just how interwoven henry is with them on levels far too personal #it’s truly frightening #clear vulnerability that builds up to a lack of safety #forced vulnerability #will byers #mike wheeler #mike wheeler and privacy #will byers and lack of unintruded memories #byler

[lalunameli]

Tiger & Bunny Week 2024 (NC 1982): Short Story

This has got to be one of the silliest things I've ever written, but ngl, had a blast doing it. Short story about the Karuizawa Cabbage Theory. Geography is woefully in accurate since Sternbild is supposed to be a version of New York City, and well Karuizawa is a resort town in Nagano, Japan. Still the fans think he drifted on the river all the way to Karuizawa, so it stays.

Author: Lalunameli

Title: Yuri on Cabbages

Rating: PG (language)

Characters: Yuri Petrov (ooc, amnesia), and Kotetsu T. Kaburagi

A/N: Unbetaed, barely proofread, will fix mistakes as I come across them.

Yuri Petrov...

Kotetsu sat at his desk staring at the screen looking at a blurry photo submitted to him from his client, of a man with similar hair (though unkempt) selling cabbages. The former Hero Supervisor had been missing for almost a year ...which coincided with the permanent loss of his powers and the last time he and Barnaby had seen Lunatic. While it was hard to make out Lunatic's face in the glare, that same untamed curly hair resembled that of the cabbage seller's, who had not bothered to tie it back. A sharp contrast from the Director, who was so meticulous about keeping a neat and tidy appearance.

Kotetsu's current line of work as a Private Investigator for Anything Goes Investigations opened him up to contact from people from various walks of life, which is how found himself taking on the case of the missing Director. He had been approached by a woman by the name of Elena, who had said she was previously in employment as his mother's caregiver, until her untimely death. Apparently her employer had gone missing while she was recuperating in the hospital for injuries sustained during a robbery attempt in which Yuri's mother Origa, had been fatally wounded. Elena had survived; however, upon her release from the hospital, she learned that Yuri Petrov had been missing since the attacks on city by Gregory Sunshine and the controlled NEXTs. Fearing the worst, she sought out the services of Kotetsu to launch a search for the missing Judge.

This was how Kotetsu found himself in a small resort town called Karuizawa (of all places!) interviewing a strange cabbage seller, who looked unmistakably like his former boss, yet whose mannerisms were anything but.

"I honestly don't remember much prior to ending up here" said the Cabbage Seller amicably smiling at Kotetsu.

Smiling, thought Kotetsu Is he actually smiling at me? And what's with the casual speech?

The Director always spoke so formally around them and was known to be stoic. The Cabbage Seller on the other hand was all smiles, with a carefree demeanor.

"What do you mean you don't remember?" asked Kotetsu bluntly

The Cabbage seller tucked an unruly lock of hair behind his ear.

"Well the people here say I was found drifting in a nearby river badly hurt. They didn't think I'd actually make it! But I guess they brought me to a hospital or something... I'm not really clear on any of it. To be honest I don't really remember a lot of things, so they kinda look out for me." He smiled sheepishly at Kotetsu

"Yikes, sounds like you had a rough time" he responded still weirded out by Cabbage Yuri's mannerisms. "So are you tellin' me you don't remember who you are at all?"

"Not at all!" replied Cabbage Yuri enthusiastically "They've taken to calling me 'Kawabe' (A/N: riverside/riverbank) around here because of where they found me. Suppose it could be worse and they could have called me Cabbage Guy or something..."

He paused for a moment and furtively looked around. Seeing no one was around he looked at Kotetsu conspiratorially.

"Hey Mister, you wanna see something cool? But you can't tell anyone. Promise?"

Kotetsu had a sinking feeling of what this "something cool" was.

Shit-shit-shit... he thought to himself.

"Sure, go for it..." he hoped his nervousness wasn't showing.

"Look what I can do!!"

The tell tale signs of blue light from NEXT power activation appeared, as a bright blue flame errupted from Cabbage Yuri errr Kawabe's hand.

"I dunno if this was because of my accident but it sure looks cool!"

I KNEW IT. Thought Kotetsu. I knew this asshole was Lunatic! And now he doesn't even remember...

"Ummm hey, isn't that kinda dangerous? Shouldn't you be careful where you're waving those things around?"

Cabbage Yuri Kawabe's eyes widened as he quickly extinguished the flame.

"Oops, you're right! My bad!"

'Oops' and 'My Bad'??? Where the hell did he learn to speak like that!! I gotta try to deal with this before it becomes a problem.

"Listen I'm gonna level with you. I'm here because I run a Private Investigations office and..."

"...And you're on a case?!??" asked Cabbage Yuri excitedly

"Yeah something like that. Anyway while I'm here I kinda need someone who knows the area. Whaddya say, you interested?"

"Am I ever!!! That sounds like fun!"

Fun! thought Kotetsu exasperatedly, Why do I feel I'm going to regret this...

The two men shook hands as Kotetsu tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do next to keep up this sham and why the hell this was his best idea to keep Lunatic close.

ETA: Look at this lovely artwork from @lidoxia (aka @kalineas ) of Cabbage Yuri! I'm so honoured and happy to see him genuinely smiling!!

From original post:

Unlikely I'll continue this. I am long retired from fanfic writing, but thought it might be fun to dust off the cobwebs and write something silly.

#short story #crack fic #hes selling cabbages in karuizawa #karuizawa #yuri petrov #lunatic tiger & bunny #tiger & bunny #taibani #tnbw #cabbage #tiger & bunny 2 #cabbage yuri #yuri in karuizawa

[bestcurse]

it feels almost surreal, waking up next to her like this— such a long time coming, that he finds it hard to believe that it’s even real. the undertone of today doesn’t fail him, however. in fact, it’s dense in the air, serving as a reminder of what a day like today was supposed to bring, up until last night. that it was meant to be one of the biggest day’s of her life, and yet they’ve ended up here, instead— together, like he always hoped it would turn out. years spent wanting this privately, secretly, has finally come to a halt, and he’s free, now, to want her openly, shamelessly. there’s a soft, content appearance upon his countenance as he rolls to face her that much more, hands outstretched, seeking, for any form of contact, anything that will let him know that this was tangible, that she was here with him, and not apart of some far off dream that he had become accustom to, after weaving in and out of each other’s lives, over all this time. the pads of his fingertips come into contiguity with bare flesh, and suddenly he can breathe easy again, each breath timed evenly, as open eyes adjust to the now sunlit room. she’s the first thing he focuses on, heavy-lidded and still half asleep, but the memories that swarm of the previous night, of all that they’d admitted, how even through it all, they still wanted one another, remind him of all he needs to know. it was as if a weight had been lifted, light shining down on an existence that had once been clouded with darkness, without her presence in his life, afraid of how it might’ve remained that way permanently, had she made the decision to proceed with today— that he would’ve lost her for good, if she had. there’s still a faint quell of that fear in his chest, rattling around his bones, infiltrating his previous calm breaths. still, he tries to shield it as best he can; those doubts, that guilt. it’s easy enough to do, waking up to the sight of her, to the warmth of her frame curled up against his own, after such a long time without it. “ morning, ” he whispers, voice coarse, raspy, as a small smile stretches at the corners of his mouth, enough for his smile lines to carve into each side. long fingers explore further, then, tracing softly against her hipbone; absentminded patterns sketched against her skin. “ i forgot how loud you snore, you know— don’t know how i’m supposed to ever get any sleep, if we keep on doing this each night, ” he’s teasing, of course, voice filtered with gaiety, but it soon falls away from him, eyebrows furrowing, as he begins to worry he’s said too much, too soon. “ i mean, that’s if you’re still wanting this... if you’re still sure about everything, about today. ” / @hurtingkind​

#hurtingkind #interactions / miller banks. #we will not be talking about the quality of this thank u.... but i am Distressed by them and this idea it's true!

[butlersxbirdy]

You Light My Morning Sky Part 12-A

She's Gonna Save Me Call Me Baby

Run her Hands Through my Hair

HERE IT IS! THEY'RE BACK! WE LOVE THEM!

You read that right. This is 12-A. 12-B is coming. Its just really long and I had to break it up but it's all in the same chapter.

Warnings: Ass play, spanking, angst, breakup (almost), smut, dom/sub

Austin Butler is having a no-good, awful, very bad day.

The empty bed was a reflection of his hollow heart upon opening his eyes and finding your space beside him vacant. Preparing to woo new clients for your work was a big part of the promotion he knew you wanted, but that didn’t mean he had to like waking without you when the two of you had to be on the Red Carpet that evening. Even in his most dominant state, which he could feel slipping from him like your silk nightie had slipped from his grasp in the early hours, his shyness prevailed and he preferred gearing up for an event with you.

 He also knew the stakes were higher for you this year given the stories circulating since your display of strength with the paparazzi. He had feared legal action, but thankfully your firm owns the whole building and there was clearly posted signage, so the photographers were all being charged with trespassing, but he still couldn't stop the guilt he felt for the stress he could see you were feeling. He longed to help you, but the calendars filled up around you both and although you both knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, it weighed on you both that it had happened at all, much less that you hadn’t been able to do more than spend stolen hours here and there despite living in the same house. 

This day was no different. Unfortunately, Austin was booked to spend the day in screen tests and filming for a new cologne promo spot today, and there was no way he could get out of it. He reaches for his phone, frowning a little when he sees plenty of new messages, none of them from you, but he sent you one anyway, sending you his love, before hopping in a quick shower. His hands wander between his legs to his rapidly hardening length; the shower always reminds him of you, of your softness, of your love. He strokes his cock slowly but a little bell goes off somewhere in his brain; You didn’t ask if you could touch Mama’s cock.

He growls in frustration but stops himself from going further, and when he manages to drag his reluctant body out of the shower, his face lights up as he puts his engagement ring back on and sees a text from you.

"Miss you, love you most, Baby. The designers are dropping off our outfits today, yours is a surprise and I didn't peek at what you picked for me. You're gonna look so stunning. I'll call when I can." 

He sighs unhappily at the reminder that he does have to go out tonight, but he focuses on getting to experience his first red carpet with you since getting engaged. The Red Carpet is always a minefield that he relishes to a point. He loves the fans and is appreciative of the life he’s been given, but when he’s feeling private and dependent on his sweet Memphis Mama, it can be the worst kind of hell. However, he looks down at the ring, heavy on his left hand, and a thrill runs down his spine at the possibilities the night offers. He tries not to feel too out of sorts anymore about waking up alone, and as he rereads the text from you, and sends a reply, he can feel the ache of missing you ease a little. He gathers his scripts, then,  and heads out for the day, trying to ignore the remaining ache in his chest when he almost goes back for a goodbye kiss and remembers that you are not there for his lips to adore.

The day is not going anything as he hoped, although the rollercoaster of emotions he experienced surrounding the simple task of taking a shower should have been a clue that there was something darker dwelling beneath the surface of his heart, but Autin truly was not prepared to feel this bad. He's stumbling in and out of character, forgetting his lines, and feeling a huge wave of doubt ripping him apart at the seams. It's bleeding into everything, this empty feeling. He's sure now that not only will he never work again, but that he also will surely lose every award he gets nominated for and he will let you, Baz, his family, and Priscilla down. His swimming head pulls him back to the waters of the Thames he almost dove into, in all those lonely months in London, trying to come back to himself and thinking only of you. 

"Austin, we're trying to work with you, but we need to send out at least one decent tape today, can we do it again?' his agent, James,  asks and that's the last straw. The loneliness and pain he’s feeling all over again wells up and breaks through, tearing through his instinct for patience and sweet pleadings for another chance.

"I'm doing my best, can you fuck off?" He snaps. He immediately regrets it. The looks of shock on the faces of all in the room are enough to tell him he’s made a mistake, and he finds himself looking for warm eyes that aren’t there. "I... I'm so sorry," he stammers. They all see the shift in him and feel a change in the air. A silent agreement seems to be made among the spectators to be nice about it, and move on. The guilt threatens to eat him, but then the rage comes back and it brings him back down to earth. Against all odds and expectations he had of himself following the outburst, he's able to do two tapes. 

Still searching for absent bright eyes, Austin has an hour's break in his day before he has to be on the set for the cologne video, and he knows where he needs to go. 

"I'm sorry, again, I'm just," he sighs. "Sorry," he repeats. 

"It's alright, you got it done. These are amazing, good work," his agent replies kindly, which he appreciates. The saving grace of this day, he thinks, will be his girl and the people kind enough to help him get to her a little faster. He makes a mental note to send flowers or a gift of some kind to everyone there that day, and then he turns on his heel and practically sprints.. 

     Pulling into your work parking lot fills him with unease; cameras flash in his memory and the invasive questions ring in his ears. He looks to the passenger seat next to him, but it’s empty. He needs you. He doesn’t wanna get out of the car without your touch, your whispered words, and your fierce protection. Luckily, the door security recognizes him and escorts him to the elevator.

"Thanks, guys, I feel a lot better, you're the best," Austin says brightly, putting on a trademark brave face and bright smile, though having met him quite a few times now, they seem to know the signs. They wave him off with a chuckle and a friendly pat on the back.

"Go get your girl, man, don't worry about it." 

He grins and hurries into the elevator, impatient to get to you; pacing the floor of the moving elevator, counting the numbers, up, up, up, and then the ding before he is released into a familiar space. 

Between your beauty and your thunder, Austin always says, he will never lose you in a crowd. This is the source of the private, almost naughty smile on his face when he hears you before he sees you; you're running a meeting about the event tonight and even with your hair in curlers in preparation, you look powerful and stunning. Your boss comes out of her office and sees the way he's watching you.

"You feeling okay, Austin?" She asks softly and he nods, giving her a quick hello hug. 

"Yeah, just wanted to see her. But I don't wanna make this worse, I know she's busy," he sighs and she shakes her head. 

"Go wait in her office, I'll grab her," she assures him and he's about to argue but he catches a glimpse of you and he blushes and nods, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Thanks," he huffs. Making his way to your office, he recognizes Sarah, one of your coworkers. 

"Hey, Sarah," he grins and she gives him a cold look.

"You don't know when to quit," she smirks. He frowns.

"What?"

"She was fine, you know. She never missed work, never got in fights, never got caught flipping off paparazzi in Memphis, and never got good people so jealous that they jeopardized the firm. Just go, Austin. She was fine before you just had to tell her you love her. I think we all miss that," she says coldly, and turns on her heel to go. 

The empty feeling in Austin's chest spreads and he flees to the elevator, leaving as fast as possible.

The meeting is almost wrapped, which is good because you’re ready to take your hair out of the uncomfortable rollers and go home to Austin. Your boss pops her head into the conference room with a smile on her face at just the right time.

"Someone's here," she smiles, and you look up, eyes bright and full of hope.

"Is it..?" You ask and she grins.

"The prince, I'm pretty sure," she says quietly and you nod, excusing yourself quickly and going to your office. It's empty. You're confused, and getting worried, but you see Sarah watching you with a smug smile, and you know instantly what she must have done.

"What did you say to him?" You ask quietly.

"Just the truth. And you know you can't leave until everything's done," she hisses and goes back to the meeting, leaving you stunned.

You try to call Austin multiple times, but he doesn't pick up, and you text him.

"I don't know what that bitch said to you, but you're my world, Baby. Whatever it was, you know I can fix it. I love you most." 

Austin is fuming. His anger and sadness thankfully don't end in a car wreck, but he's shaking and even more unfocused than he was when he left home this morning. Having no earthly idea how he made it to the shoot in one piece, but he does by some miracle, having no memory of the drive.  He pulls into the marked space for him and is escorted into hair and makeup immediately, on autopilot as he smiles kindly and greets everyone. 

He somehow makes it through the shoot. He's no longer distracted; he's numb.

It would be best for you if he'd never said a word. 

It would be better for you not to love him. 

He could do nothing about the fact that he's ruining your life until he grows a pair and leaves you like a decent man.

He could do nothing about your suffering, but he could knock this video out of the park.

Luckily, there are lots of brooding stares involved, and his mood puts him in the perfect mindset to deliver on that. Luckily it’s a solo shoot; his arms ache to wrap around you, which the director claims portrays loneliness to perfection, but really he’s just thanking his lucky stars there isn’t a model crawling all over him. He's fully ready to be a brooding dream boy that you love so much, and thankfully they love his work. 

The praise feels empty, as your warm eyes don’t accompany the kind words, and when he's finished, he quickly gets changed back into his comfort clothes and heads for home. 

"Can I talk to you?" You ask Jenn, your boss, stiffly, after getting what Sarah said to your Austin out of someone who overheard. She nods and ushers you in. You sit and you look at her.

"What's going on, girly?" She asks you and you bite back tears.

"This isn't working. This is the second employee in a year who's tried to ruin me and Austin. It's completely unreasonable," your voice is cold but locked up with unshed tears, like water dripping on snow. "Austin is thinking of leaving me right now. Don't argue, we both know it's true."

"Yeah," she sighs in defeat. "I know. I’ll talk to her. Should we keep you two on the DL for a while?" She asks and you shake your head.

  "I have some vacation time, and some paid leave in my contract. I think I'm gonna take it. If at the end of that time you decide keeping me isn't worth it, then that's okay. But I need to step away from this environment that's constantly trying to hurt me and Austin," you say firmly. "Tonight's event is my last for a while. Everything's ready for tonight, I'll see you there," you stand and walk out, trembling with the shock of what you had just done, and with the fear of what Austin was thinking. 

Austin is laying on the couch, surrounded by scribbles of drafts of a letter to you. His heart was still beating in his chest, but he had no idea how such a shattered broken thing could still function. You were his girl, meant to be his forever, and yet you'd probably be better off without him. 

When he came home, he fully intended to write a letter and pack his things. He fully intended to leave you despite his heart breaking in his chest, but the second he sat down he knew he didn't have it in him to go with grace. 

As he worked through his thoughts, phrases kept sticking out and coming back to him. As depressed as he was, and as needy as he was for attention, the letter that was intended to be a loving, if absolutely heart-wrenching goodbye, turned into his wedding vows. His sadness has turned to rage again; how dare anyone think they could keep him from you, the love of his life who he crossed oceans twice over to find? 

He couldn't stop writing about all the things that made you perfect together, and the fact that Sarah decided to try to interfere was one of those reasons, in the end. He knew you had nothing to do with it, and he knew how far you’d go to protect him. Almost as far as he’d go to protect you. He was vaguely aware that writing his vows was a coping mechanism until he could see your face and hear your voice. Then the guilt bubbled up once more, like acid in his throat. He shouted at his agent. He had misbehaved. And he still had to confess to you what he had done during his audition. The anxiety bubbles in his chest and he waits for you to come home and berate him for ruining everything. 

When you walk into the house, it's barely lit, and Austin lays, despondent, on the couch.

"Baby," you exhale like a prayer as you step toward him quietly, kicking off your sandals and approaching slowly.

"Mama," he sighs, looking lost and vacant. He's not even crying. He's beyond tears. You look at the papers around him and you gasp when you pick one up and read it; you know a breakup letter when you see one. He writes of longing endlessly, but being willing to suffer so that you can be the woman he loves, even if you have to do it without him. There's a knife in your heart and you look at him. You knew it was coming. Austin felt like you weren’t right for each other, if people’s reactions to your relationship were anything to go by, but you want to take one last shot at preserving your love.

"Baby, what's going on? You're breaking up with me? Because of Sarah?" You ask, shaking as you stroke his face as you try and fail not to cry.  "We're Austin and Mama... we don't cave to that shit. We're in love, aren't we?" You sniffle, looking into his puffy red eyes.

"I thought I had to, she," he pauses and sits up. "Wait, you know what she said?" He asks, face in his hands. You gently lift his delicate features from the harsh touch of his frustrated hands and bump your nose gently against his.

"Yes," you whisper. "I know. And I took a leave of absence until the firm can figure out why two employees have come after you in the space of a year. It's okay, we're gonna be fine, you're not going anywhere," you smile and he blushes.

"I know," he grins a little through the tears. "I got mad halfway through trying to let you down easy, realized there's no way I can ever let you go or stop loving you, so the breakup letter turned into angry ranting, and now I think I'm almost done with my vows," he sniffles, the blush still present on his cheeks. You can't help but laugh and pull him close, and when you move away from him to move from a crouched position to sitting on the couch next to him, he gets in your lap and wraps himself around you.

"No more moving away from me, Mama," he insists and you smile at him adoringly. "Which should be easy because you quit your job," he smiles smugly. "Don't think I didn't catch that detail." You grin and kiss him.

"I'd do all that and more for my Prince," you whisper and he rests his forehead against yours. There's still something off about his energy, but you don't press him about it. 

"Really?" He whispers, and you nod. "I'd never ask, Mama, you know that," he frowns and you kiss him.

"I know, baby. Good boy," you hum and he frowns deeper, settling back and looking away from you.

"That's the thing, Mama, Sarah wasn't the only thing that happened," he chews the inside of his cheek. "I wasn't  a good boy today." 

"Well, what do you mean, Little Prince? You're always so good," you ask, giving him a chance to speak for himself.

"I snapped at people. I forgot to eat and lay on your pillow for comfort like I'm supposed to if I wake up all out of sorts. I didn't before my screen tests, and I was really mean. I wasn't getting anything done right, they were right to be firm. Then I drove while I was upset, I almost left you without talking to you first, and I didn't get you any pictures of the cologne shoot like you wanted. I wasn't a good boy today," he confesses in a blur of short breaths and stuttered words, and you have to try not to cry simply at how cute he is. None of these make you a bad boy, you want to say, but you hold back.

"I see. And what do you think would help you not do that again?" You ask thoughtfully, rubbing his back.

"Mama, we've never done this before, but I think I need it," he frowns and tugs at his shirt nervously. "I want a consequence." He doesn't look you in the eye when he says it and you nod.

"Okay. We can talk about that. But if you want a consequence, you have to look me in the eye and say it," your words are quiet but he hears that you mean them and he looks you in the eye as he takes your hand and places it on his cheek.

"Mama, I was bad today, and I need a consequence." 

That's all you need to hear before you're on board wholeheartedly.

"Okay, thank you for telling me. What's a fitting consequence, baby? What would help you not do this again and feel secure that Mama forgives you and loves you?" You ask, giving him way more room since this is his first time being punished since you used getting waxed as a way to withhold sex. He takes a deep breath and looks at you, biting his lip as if he’s afraid of the words that just won’t come out, but the request tumbles from his lips anyhow.

"Mama, will you spank me?" He asks, looking into your eyes. You feel a wave of some unnamable feeling well up inside you and you shake your head.

"I thought we said no physical consequences, Prince," you look into his longing eyes. 

"I know, Mama. But we said that a long time ago, and we said it because when you brought up consequences, the first thing out of my mouth was 'don't hit me, as if you would," he smiles a little, and you kiss his forehead.

"I'm glad you know I never would, Baby, you looked like you thought I was going to hit you," you blush and he rolls his eyes.

"Well I don't know, you wouldn't watch 50 shades with me, so I had to go looking on my own and there's a lot of hitting in Mama dom porn. I was fed misinformation," he chuckles and you can't help but laugh with him.

"You seem to have done okay despite the lies and propaganda," you tease and he nuzzles into you.

"I'm NOT calling you Mommy," he mumbles and you gag.

"There's only one Baby Boy who will ever call me Mommy," you say before you can stop yourself and he freezes for a moment, eyes dark as he pulls you into a heated kiss, hand on your stomach.

"Don't distract me," he rasps in a hoarse moan. You nod and keep him grounded with a firm hand on his chest. 

"No distractions, baby. I'm sorry. Let's talk about this," you take deep breaths. He nods, running his fingers over his lips slowly. 

"I felt awful all day. I behaved badly. I don't feel good about it and I want to be punished. Punishments show that Mamas care right? They're not supposed to be too painful or be violent," he says uncertainly but with an eagerness to learn.

“Yes. Absolutely," you say proudly, encouraged to know that he grasps the concept of being punished as a sub. 

"And when Mama knows how to do it, spanking isn't like violent hitting. It... I hope it will ground me. I think it will, and I'd like to try," he explains, and he folds his hands between the two of you, eyes darting to your stomach but otherwise showing great restraint.

"You really wanna try this, Baby?" You ask, and he drops to his knees, bowing his head. 

"I've been so bad, I need Mama to put me in my place," he whines and it hits you in a shock wave that rocks you to your very core; your boy doesn't just want this. He needs it. 

“You need me to own you," you say slowly. "You're not sad about what Sarah said. You were, but you-" you huff out a little giggle. "You're mad as all hell. You want a sore ass from Mama's hand at the event tonight."

He nods, his whole body trembling. 

"Mama, put me in my place," he asks again and you nod.

"Strip, you naughty little thing," you command and he lets out a filthy moan as he follows your command. 

Once he's naked, you press your legs together and beckon him forward. 

"Over my lap, Prince."

He lays himself, face down, on your lap. His half-hard cock presses against your thigh and you bite back a moan of your own. His face presses into the couch and you take a moment to stroke his hair, and then you run your hands teasingly over the soft flesh of his ass. He is, at every angle, stunning. He shivers under your touch and his hips arch to press himself to your hands.

"Okay, we're starting easy, baby. I'll give you 5 spanks. You will count and thank me for each one. You will not cum until I say so, and you'd better behave because we don't have a lot of time before we have to get ready to hit the Red Carpet," you instruct calmly and he nods.

"Use your words, Baby Boy," you command, and he whines.

"Yes Mama, I can do that. I can be a good boy," he promises and you smile.

"Good boy. We're gonna start now," you warn him. You rub his ass gently a few more times, before bringing your hand down sharply on to the soft round flesh. 

"One! Thank you Mama!" He whimpers. His cock is stiffening, and he already sounds wrecked. You bring your hand down again, harder this time, and he moans, trying not to rut against you. 

"Two! Thank you Mama!" He cries and you feel wetness between your legs. You spank him again, even harder, but in an area that isn't already turning a pleasant shade of pink. He squirms a little, and his moan is choked and desperate.

"Three! Th.. thank you, Mama!" He keens and you gently pet the soft skin of his thighs before bringing your hand on his ass twice in quick succession. 

"Oh! Four! Five! Thank you for my spanks, Mama, thank you so much..." he sobs, trying not to roll his hips on you. You rub his sore flesh gently before guiding him to sit up on your lap. He curls up against you, resting his head on your chest. His breathing is even and he reaches up to touch your face, and when he looks up at you he looks so peaceful.

"The thanking you thing," he breathes, eyelids fluttering. "I meant it. I feel so much better," he sighs. You give him a tender kiss and take him in. He is truly a sight to behold; hard but somehow paying no mind, skin glowing, eyes shining. 

"Baby, I have to tell you, you look really beautiful like this," you smile at him and he kisses you softly.

"I feel beautiful," he whispers and you feel yourself getting choked up.

"Oh, Austin," you whisper, and he nuzzles in close. You hold each other for a while, losing track of anything but each other's touch, until Austin's ass brushes against the couch and he winces. You take that as your cue that he's ready for the next part.

"Can you stand, my love? Here comes the good part," You nuzzle him, and he nods. 

"I think so. Hold me, though?" He asks and you kiss his cheek.

"Of course. Good boy," you praise, and he blushes as he stands, holding your hands. His legs are surprisingly steady, but he still holds tight to you as you get him up the stairs. You consciously avoid brushing against his erection, and he pulls you in close when you reach the bed. You back away a little, and make eye contact so he knows you mean business.

"We're gonna start getting ready in a second, baby, but why don't you go ahead and lay face down on the bed for me," you help him lie face down, placing a pillow under his hips. He lets out a whimper and humps the pillow a little.  "I know, you're so hard, Prince. It's gonna be okay, we're gonna do something about that, but not yet so keep those hips still," you assure him with a brush of your fingers through his hair. He whines and rolls his hips once against the pillow just to get comfortable and you grab the soothing lotion you keep for such occasions. You come back to sit with him, and you gently lay a hand on his lower back, rubbing his muscles a little.

"Can I touch you where it hurts?" You ask, and he smiles at you, turning his head.

"Yeah, Mama, you gonna make it better?" He asks and you lean down to kiss him.

"Promise, baby, I'll make it all better," you assure him. You warm the lotion on your fingers before gently applying it to his plump red cheeks. He hisses at first and you keep going but ease up on the pressure you apply, taking great care to listen for sounds of displeasure. He hums contentedly as it starts to work, and you apply more of the lotion. You didn't realize that a drop of the lotion was on the edge of your hand until Austin stiffens and makes a little whining sound. You look down and you swallow audibly. The drop of lotion slipped off your hand and landed between his cheeks. The heat in between your thighs makes you squirm, and the low whine that comes out of Austin’s mouth drives you wild. You’ve never come close to approaching this aspect of submission with him, and while it doesn’t necessarily bother you, it intimidates you. You’re his Mama. He needs you in this moment, and yet you officially have no earthly idea where this day is going.

#you light my morning sky #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin butler elvis #austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #sub!austin

[dragons-clause]

The Dragon's Clause

Sabo x Fem Reader CW: Forced marriage, intrigue, character death, fantasy violence, blood, magic, language, smut, 18+ mdni

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff

Chapter 6: The Grand Duke?

The most calming thing about your audience with the King was that it was happening after breakfast, and you had been provided a meal of your own. The clothing the maids had dressed you in, after taking care to help you wash and prep, was also a consolation.

If you were being brought before the King for a declaration of treason or execution there would not be any attempt made to present you as nobility. You weren’t getting dressed in your finest dress, but you weren’t being put in something shabby, or simply just linens. Yours was not a position where you could bargain or demand, but there was a level of worth and respect still being provided.

It was very middle of the road, which was unexpected. You figured the King would want you in your finest to highlight whatever haughty nature he was projecting onto you, or dressed hastily to indicate some measure of disdain for him and his crown.

You’d have to thank your cousin for talking incessantly about fashion and the meanings of clothes to nobles and noble society. Her passion for it had been the only real reason you had paid attention, and knowing also helped you be a better Lady-in-Waiting for her in return. Knowing about it all, however, didn’t give you enough to know exactly what you were talking into.

It still took some controlled breathing to keep yourself calm. You’d run a gamut of emotions during your time imprisoned in that room. From fear to boredom to anger, and none of them did you any good right now.

You tucked your pride away before you reached the hall where the King’s court was being held. You could hear dozens of people on the other side of the doors before you were announced, and pushed your sense of self down even further.

If this was to be a spectacle, you would not add to it. You would be as a finely crafted doll, stoic and noble in your actions and words. Even if the comparison rankled you.

The doors opened and the King and Queen were seated at the end of a long carpet. They sat upon a raised dais, though it was only four steps up from the main floor. The only other people up there with them were Sterry and three heavily armed knights.

Something about the way the knights stood bothered you, but you couldn’t waste time or focus on them. When you were instructed to stop, you did, bowing your head and staying that way. There was a tense silence around you, but you wouldn’t move or speak first until you were recognized by one of the royals. No matter how embarrassing it was supposed to be, stuck in this position, it would be more embarrassing if you were to be reprimanded for poor etiquette in front of what seemed to be every noble house in the Kingdom of Goa.

You can hear people around you beginning to murmur, whether it’s directed at you or the royal family doesn’t matter. The discomfort in the air is getting heavy, but you could hold your position for at least an hour if need be, and no one in the Goa royal family was going to be able to match that level of stubbornness.

Certainly not with so many other people around. If the King had decided to see you more privately he could simply have left the room and done as he pleased, leaving someone else to inform him if you had dared to move. But with so many others around there would be no way for him to sway the exchange in his favor.

“You have paid your penance.” The King says finally, barely restrained aggravation in his voice. “Raise your head.”

“Thank you, your Majesty.” You respond, standing up straight. You have to admit, of all the options he had available to him, you were surprised he managed to save face so well.

“Insulting as it was for the King of Lulusia to send you in place of his daughter, you have been found to have some value.” He begins. You keep your face and poise neutral, simply accepting his words. You didn’t want to look angry as you were feeling, but you refused to appear admonished by any means.

“If he wishes to send me an inadequate princess, then I will marry her to an inadequate son.” He grumbles. “As such inadequacies may abound, but we will see if you can handle my grotesque son better than the last few who failed.”

“Failed, your majesty?” You question without thinking. You didn’t mean to respond anymore than was necessary but the tone of the word ‘failed’ was so dismissive that it prompted you before you could stop.

He smiles, subtly, but darkly. “Yes. They broke off the engagement after petitioning me for mercy.” He explains. “You will not have that avenue available. If you cannot bring yourself to marry the Duke then you will be stripped of your title and exiled.”

Exile from Goa would be exile from Lulusia. You did your best to look nearly dismayed by the prospect, but the idea of being able to go to the Dawn Kingdom - a land always in need of soldiers for its vast northern border - you almost wanted to petition for exile right now. No need to bother the Grand Duke over something so trivial, just exchange your title for armor, a weapon, and enough rations to make the trip, and you’d be fine.

A hasty request would just be denied, however, and something in the King’s demeanor bristled your pride. You had no desire to do him any favors, but the idea that you could be run off from someone with such surety was the first time the King had truly managed to get under your skin.

You curtsy, offering just the barest hint of admonishment, “I will do my utmost to exceed your expectations, your majesty.”

The King scoffs, and the heavily armored knights on the dais move, stepping forward. “Your things will be packed and sent to the Grand Duke’s manor within the hour. These knights will escort you there immediately, and you will no longer be my problem.”

Your eyes move over the members of the royal family as you curtsy again. Turning away, you let the knights escort you through the castle. The whole event was less stressful than you had expected it to be, but the end of it all was going to stick in your mind for a long time.

The Queen seemed caught between boredom and disdain, and any goodwill you may receive from her down the line was certain to have a heavy cost. The King was truly, and deeply hostile toward you, though you felt it was more to do with your father, than yourself directly. Even if you did manage to limit the options he wanted to have available.

Sterry, however, looked pleased.

The greasy little stain had been wearing the same smug grin since you first met him, and it never left his face the entire time during your encounter just then. You didn’t have much to go on, having only met him twice briefly, but given everything else, you felt unsettled by it all.

Before you could do anything about it, you’d need to ascertain where the Duke and his people stood in terms of Sterry. Given the King’s outward hostility, and the Queen’s seeming inability to be bothered, it felt safe to assume his relationship with his biological parents was just as strained, or estranged, as you would expect it to be. He wouldn’t have turned down the crown so insistently otherwise.

It was possible that the Grand Duke and the Crowned Prince had some sort of relationship between one another. The Duke could easily be willing to handle a troublesome problem on his behalf.

Such a relationship would explain why the Duke’s reputation was so fractured.

Unfortunately, you weren’t going to know until you met the Duke. Even then it was hard to say what you would know once that happened. For all you could be certain of, Sterry could be playing the fool to fit in with the King and Queen. He wouldn’t be doing himself any favors by outshining a King who was not his biological father.

Outshining The Duke would work to both his advantage, and the Duke’s, if he truly had no desire for the crown. Their relationship could be closer than even the King and Queen would expect.

Your heavily armored guards help you into the carriage and you get settled in. The ride will give you time to think, but you can’t let your mind spiral. One of the reasons you had been okay with being a lady in waiting to Komane was because you had no desire to deal with the layers of intrigue, plotting, double-speak, and general uselessness of nobility. There were certainly perks, but you’d long since soured on the idea of all it even before your father passed away.

Nobility rarely ever spoke plainly, never mind speaking honestly. Things that sounded like praise on the surface could easily be insults, and insults could be little more than bait. Stoicism was prized, but rarely practiced, and there weren’t many Families able to stand on, or up to, the honor their names were supposedly built upon.

There was more honor in the laugh of a border knight than in the word of a King, at least as far as you were concerned.

Noble, or commoner, there were a lot of things that could stop someone from living the life they wanted. But having the means and privilege to do something and being unable to do it was maddening as far as you were concerned. Especially when there was such disparity between being a swordsman and being a noble lady.

Well, if you kept your head down and didn’t do anything to irritate the Duke, maybe you could practice your swordsmanship during the day, instead of hiding it away at night like you had been the last few years. It would depend on how attentive he was. As it was, most people paid no mind to the gloves you wore. Komane was the only one who had seen your hands with any regularity, and neither she, nor her father, ever brought up the possibility that you were sneaking in practice.

After an hour of travel the carriage finally came to a stop.

You found yourself inside the gates of an impressive, if not modest for the Capital, estate. A man in a tailored suit, with two-toned hair and two-toned glasses, offered his hand to help you alight from the carriage.

“My name is Inazuma, I am the head butler for the Duke’s estate here in the Capital.” He says, introducing himself as you clear the carriage steps. He bows slightly once you are steady on your feet, his gaze shifting away from you and to the carriage as it leaves once you’re clear of it.

“My apologies, miss, but I was unaware of any guests due to meet with the Grand Duke today.” He admits, in a voice that’s professional and even.

Your expressions breaks for a second in irritation but you recover quickly before regarding him with as easy a smile as you can manage. “I am Lady A’tana Écaille de Lulusia,” you introduce yourself with your full name, grateful it’s not something you use often. The name your father gave you was far better, but it wasn’t something you used officially. “And I am here because the King of Goa has decided I am to marry the Grand Duke.”

Inazuma’s brows raise enough to easily clear his glasses, but he manages to compose himself quickly. There’s no reason for him to mistrust your declaration, considering you arrived in an official carriage of the palace.

“Allow me to escort you to the drawing room while we prepare an appropriate guest room for you to stay in Lady Lulusia.” He offers, escorting you into the manor. “The Grand Duke is at the northern border currently, but we will get word to him as quickly as possible. In the meantime you are a guest here and I will see that anything you require is provided.”

“A place to rest my head, and a couple meals a day will be plenty, Inazuma, thank you.” You reply evenly, a smile on your lips. So far his demeanor and tone were genuine and that was appreciated right now.

The estate was modest, given the status of Grand Duke, but it was nearly flawless in its presentation. There was more life and history within the walls and landscaping of these grounds than those of the palace, despite this building being obviously far newer in construction. The style of the Palace harkened back to the style of centuries long ago, but the Duke’s residence was far more modern in design.

“Will we be receiving your things later today?”

“The King was magnanimous enough to promise they would arrive within an hour of my own arrival.” You answer, carefully hiding away your feelings about the King and his magnanimousness - and precisely where he could shove it.

“I will ensure they are handled with the utmost care, and brought to your room without delay.” He assures you, opening the door to the drawing room and stepping aside so you can walk through it. “You may rest from your ride in here. I can have refreshments brought in, if you like?”

Stepping in you make yourself comfortable on a small sofa that looks brand new. “Tea would be wonderful. I can wait until lunch for anything more, thank you Inazuma.”

“Certainly, Lady Lulusia.” He bows slightly before closing the door to give you privacy.

Your time at the capital estate was brief. Magical communication with the Duke had allowed for him to be informed of the situation quickly, and there had only been a little bit of a delay while the unsuspecting man processed the surprising news. Another slight delay was caused by the fact that your belongings were not delivered until late the following day.

The packing job had been hasty and improper, and Inazuma had insisted you allow him to see your things tended and properly repacked before you left the estate. You had assured him that you weren’t bothered or concerned, but the skilled butler had been almost passionate about it, and so you let him.

You weren’t used to people making a fuss over you or your things, but while it had been a little embarrassing, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Nothing in his demeanor or words had been impolite, and it was clear it was a small matter of pride on his part as well.

Apparently the Grand Duke had rather exacting standards, and Inazuma would not allow a guest to be treated below said standards if he could help it. And so your clothes were seen to by a trusted tailor and packed away correctly before you were escorted to a nearby teleportation station, as the Grand Duke’s main estate was far to the north, closer to the border.

“By the Duke’s own hand there is a teleportation station just outside the limits of the town where the manor is located.” Inazuma explained as you and your belongings were set up for the magic of the transfer. “You will be met by my counterparts in Aquilegia upon your arrival, and they will see you comfortably to the Duke’s estate.”

“Thank you, Inazuma. You have done far more than what was required, and it has made the last two days enjoyable.” You say, smiling genuinely. Despite everything else he had been seeing to during your brief stay, he still made time to show you the estate, and assign a couple staff to assist you however you needed.

There wasn’t much you could have asked for in the brief time, but the attentiveness and courtesy was stark after your time in the palace.

It wasn’t your first time using a teleportation station, and so you went through the process easily. Given the cost there was a certain level of comfort provided by default, and you seated yourself comfortably as instructed. An attendant kept you apprised of the process and progress and eventually the complex magic circle beneath you began to glow.

The powerful rush of magic seemed to nearly push your soul from your body, but the sudden flood was over before you could really worry or even panic about it. It had been almost two decades since the last time you traveled via teleportation, and there was some comfort in knowing that it didn’t matter if you were a child or an adult.

It was still really cool.

#The Dragon's Clause #sabo the revolutionary #revolutionary sabo #sabo one piece #sabo #x reader #reader insert #Fantasy AU #Royal AU #mdni

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Halloweek: Day 1

This story references the series Insania (which you can find on my Masterlist) so if you’d like to check how this pairing started make sure to read that as well 😉

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @letsgivethisonemoreshot , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @damnnhausen , @starwithaheart, @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @pinksplendor , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @sldghmmr , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @blaquekittycat , @auburnwrites , @brie-mode-activated

The fog of slumber began to fade away as Dr. Calla slowly took in her surroundings. Her eyes opened and she began to look for something inside the room familiar enough that she could ground herself and understand where she was.

The white room appeared familiar yet foreign, as she searched through her memories, wondering how she could’ve been in this room before, until a chuckle coming from her right side made everything make sense.

“Good evening, sleeping beauty” Malakai grinned “Had a nice nap?”. His taunting gaze was glued to her face, drinking in the confusion her features held.

Dr. Calla tried to move her arms as panic rose within her, but she quickly learned that her upper limbs were somehow trapped. Looking down at the white fabric, despair coated her every word “Malakai…what is this?”

His chuckle was deep and nerve racking “I thought that as a psychiatrist, you - of all people - would be familiar with a straight jacket, sugarplum”.

Fear was the only thing Dr. Calla could feel at the moment. Her mind wandered to the worst thing that could happen to her. Memories of what happened or how she ended up in that position were nothing but a blank page, her mind fighting the confusion haze as she tried to keep herself grounded.

“Why so scared, Doc?” Malakai smirked before he stood up from the bed and walked towards the chair she was perched on. His knuckles softly caressed her cheeks, soon after brushing the pad of his fingers against her bottom lip, smudging her lipstick in the process. “I thought you enjoyed our little private sessions in my room”.

Dr. Calla took a deep breath in, gathering courage so fear didn’t creep into her voice “Malakai, let me go”. But her phrase only seemed to amuse the man in front of her.

“Oh sugarplum” He cackled before straddling her hips. Malakai sat on her lap, but was careful enough to not crush her with his weight. He could feel her body tensing beneath him, the small sign of uncomfortableness enough to make him laugh “Did you forget that you’re in my world now? You have no power here! I’m the boss, Doc. You’re at my mercy. And if there’s one thing you will learn tonight, it’s that I’m anything but merciful”.

“Malakai, just untie me so we can talk. You can tell me what’s going on and I can help-“

Malakai burst out laughing for what felt like minutes until he suddenly stopped, the same sarcastic smirk still dancing on his lips “Do you think I’m dumb? Did you forget who you’re talking to?” He leaned forward until he was close enough that the tips of their noses touched and she could feel his warm breath upon her lips. “I know you better than anyone! I know of your needs and I’m the one who knows how to satisfy them”

Dr. Calla frowned at his words, trying to understand the meaning behind them. The rational side of her told her to play along with his fantasy enough so she could stay unharmed, but her emotions screamed for help. “What do you mean?” She asked, deciding to follow her brain instead of her instincts.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about” Malakai’s hands cupped her breasts through the straight jacket “Last night…didn’t I give you exactly what you need?”

Dr. Calla blinked in confusion, her mind silently asking her what he was talking about since yesterday she was at home the entire evening, eating takeout, drinking cheap wine and watching the rerun of Simple Life on the tv.

“Last night?” She repeated the date before asking “And what did we do last night?”.

Malakai grinned coldly, teeth sinking into Dr. Calla’s bottom lip as he pulled the flesh inside his mouth. She tried to pull away but it was pointless, being trapped in a straight jacket and with Malakai’s weight on top of her there wasn’t much she could do besides let him kiss her.

He broke their kiss so he could whisper in her ear “You wanna know what we did last night? Oh, you’ll remember, sugarplum. The minute you’re screaming and moaning around my cock again, you will remember exactly what we did last night”.

#maso’s halloweek 2022 #malakai black fanfiction #malakai black imagine #malakai black x reader #malakai black #masochist writes

[mayashesfly]

Coming back to listening to some of Atsuover's songs and Ms. Mediocre (cover by Jexdra specifically) is giving me such big Villain Vox vibes who's just mocking Alastor that has been weakened in his tower while the other Vees are watching the special show in their usual hangout spot. (The Woo is from Velvette)

In this hypothetical animatic in my mind, Alastor is pretty weak and still without his cane. Not only that but he can be influenced by Vox's hypnosis. (Is this in any way canon or accurate to the characters? Hell no! Probably not. But it's still a fun idea to play around with)

While Vox mocks and makes a show about humiliating Alastor, the other residents of the hotel are trying to get inside of the Vee tower to help him.

At the start, the Vees continue watching the show but later on they notice the other intruders and Valentino instantly rushes to fuck over Angel Dust and the others while Velvette screams at him to calm down and "stay put just like what Vox said you goddamn pissbaby"

Before she eventually joins Valentino into the fray but end up getting separated from him, the stupid moth.

Meanwhile, at the start of the song, Alastor makes comments of how Vox was merely putting words in his mouth and being generally pathetic as he tries to hide his nervousness at being isolated in a well-lit up room with Vox of all people in the flesh while he's still weak.

Honestly, she's just not good enough... (I wish I was good enough...)

^ This is the part where Vox starts trying to hypnotize Alastor. Before Alastor snapped out of it.

While the fight between the other Vees and the residents continue on down below, Charlie is racing up the stairs like a madman as screens lit up the hallway around her with Vox's demented grin.

Ms. Mediocre...Where do you think you're going? You're really gonna ditch and miss a very important showing?

Alastor manages to escape his constraints somewhat but it only results to Vox doubling down even more as he continued mocking Alastor.

Notice how your ego was inflated Thinking you were high and mighty You thought your life was set but now you're Sitting at your desk just ugly crying

Vox shows Alastor the footage of his defeat from the hands of Adam, before showing Alastor's private breakdown in his ruined tower. Alastor questioning how Vox even got that information as shame filled his mind upon knowing that Vox saw that about him.

Thinking there are others more worth it than you...

^ Vox jabbing at Alastor's line about "Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends"

Ms. Mediocre! (I wish I was good enough...) Come out and show us!

Alastor breaking down as red visages or is it blue? start mocking him as well alongside Vox's demeaning voice. Spirals spinning in his eyes while Charlie is getting closer and closer until-

I DON'T NEED TO PROVE I'M GOOD ENOUGH!

Alastor explodes, his powers resurging as he snaps ut from Vox's control just in time for Charlie to bust open the door to Vox's office.

Vox stares wide-eyed at Alastor's body transforming and contorting itself into something larger and larger, the growing antlers piercing through some of Vox's screens before he quickly turned to the Princess of Hell bristling as well as her hair flies out of her face and large red horns glistened in the remaining blue light.

Fear shocked through Vox's core as he called out "Val? Velvette?" underneath his breath in a panic.

Before realizing he was all alone.

His cameras and screens broken and disabled, rendering him unable to teleport away into a safe space.

Now it was his turn to be pushed down a few pegs.

Old friend.

#may asher writes #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vees #I don't know why but I am currently in the mood to absolutely bully the fuck out of Alastor #I just want to see that repressed bitch break down his walls and get fucked <3

[nelithic]

He hadn't been convinced that he would be able to cross paths with her today. Their meeting had felt a bit otherworldly in nature to him at the time, owing a bit to his frayed nerves.

He is better today, but in seeing her, he feels like he has stepped into a dream-like state once more.

No matter, he imagines this opportunity will not come up again so easily, knowing so little of where she roams or dwells in these lands. When they had met, she hadn't worn the students' uniform, and he has had yet to encounter her again since. It is fear that drives him to haste, and he cuts off her path, standing before her now with a wrapped present in hand, grabbed from his collection of them that he's been handing out.

“ Hello there! Wow, I can't believe I actually ran into you today... I guess sometimes I'm luckier than I thought. Anyway, this is for you for the Winter Festival if you'll accept it, please. ”  He holds it out to her: a thin box that weighs little. Yet still, despite its unassuming size, he has wrapped it with care all the same... even if he wasn't sure if he'd meet her today at all. Inside of the gift box there lies a pair of leather gloves with fur on the ends where it'd meet the wearer's wrists— simple but stylish, durable and effective.  “ I don't know what kind of work you do, but if you had been handling those corpses that day, I can guess you're sent to do that kind of thing a lot. Or maybe it's your own desire. I don't know. But either way, I wanted to give you something that could help keep you warm in those times without getting in your way. ”

He's not sure if she actually needs these kinds of things. There's so little he knows about her still, he feels. If he tried to peek, would the fount of her life be infinite? Would her tale be as vast as the greatest abyss? The deepest darkness?

He imagines if he were to try, he would not come out unscathed, and yet...

“ I grew up somewhere cold, so I like to think I know a bit on this subject. Oh, but I suppose it might not be to your tastes... Sorry if that's the case. But I really do hope they're alright... ”

daylight's way of banishing shadows and sharpening fine edges does not suit either of them. at first, she does not recognize him, such that when he hurries toward her with hastened greeting as though afraid he may lose her entirely, she wonders him to be a rare resident of abyss aboveground who may know her face and position but whose acquaintance she has not yet made. under the afternoon sun, he appears younger, closer to his age and those of his student peers and the restless agitation he had displayed, which first returns to her upon remembrance amid a triptych of pained eyes, snow-flecked curls, and a deep scarlet sigil at the center of his forehead.

today there is little to none of that agitation. the lines of his face are smooth, if anxious, his voice and movements at equilibrium. without speaking, she looks down to the box he extends and accepts it with both hands, allowing him to go on talking while she carefully unravels it.

perhaps under other circumstances, she would have said her thanks and left the reveal of the contents for later in private. but this one comes unexpectedly enough that she feels it better to open it before him; in truth, she is somewhat perplexed, and had not thought their brief acquaintance warranted such a gesture.

a pair of leather gloves greets her, neatly packaged one atop the other, nested in white wrapping paper. she takes in the sight as he goes on, expectation rising into his voice — and it is this that prompts her eventually to lift her eyes from the unexpected gift to meet his again. "they look warm and durable, and are in fine condition," she gently interrupts his halting uncertainties. "the thought is appreciated. thank you."

though a common custom among the little ones, it still feels strange to be on the receiving end. from time to time, she had accepted gifts, and some tokens, and tributes even — but they had numbered few, and the vast majority of them from her twin; their gifts to one another had remained the largest portion of any such exchange in memory, recycled from hand to hand at intervals. by comparison, the box in hand now dangling at her side feels weighted, though not undesirable, with unfamiliarity.

she may not be as susceptible to cold as the little ones. but she will find some use for these regardless.

"i regret that i had not prepared anything for you in return. my apologies. if you need assistance in the future, i will gladly lend it."

#——— ⟢ 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 】₊ pelleas. #pirrhyc #FINALLY replied to this ty for sending this !! it was sweet #holds ur pelleas in my hands