#or to do the same to the bargain she offers to her daughter

[lilacsandpetals]

Frozen Blossoms 

Bi-Han x F! reader

POV: You get pushed into an arranged marriage you didn't ask for, and it's to the heir of the Lin Kuei.

Tags and notes: drabble (for now?), arranged marriage AU, SFW, exploring emotions, Bi-Han can't process his emotions properly, Pre-MK1 or maybe it's an MK1 AU??

Next part here

Your eyes bore into the reflection staring back at you. Your lips were painted red to match the deep shade of the dress that graced your body. A color you found uneasily fitting for the clan you were to marry into. Your hair was neatly tied back with a golden pin to hold it in place. The gems on the pin were in stark contrast to your dress, a shade of blue you had grown familiar with. 

Chatter amongst your mother and relatives had faded into white noise as you yet again tried to grasp the reality of your impending future. 

You were to be married off to secure an alliance with the Lin Kuei. 

Initially, you had thought your parents were playing a cruel joke on you (they were never ones to do so, but you had still hoped). They explained the gravity of the situation. You knew that strife had been increasing in the area and that the Lin Kuei would offer protection that no one dared to rival. Your father shared similar ideals of honor and duty that the Grandmaster was privy to. However, the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei would not be so foolish as to strike up a deal without asking for something in return. Of course, your clan offered resources they found valuable, but it still would not be enough. 

It just so happened that his oldest son was to take over the title soon, and that tradition deemed it necessary for him to take a bride. 

And so you became the prized bargaining piece. 

Naturally, the exchange of your hand in marriage for an alliance weaved its way into conversations between the clans. 

Now here you were.

Your eyes trailed toward the door before a veil was placed upon your face. Could you make a run for it at this point? No, there’d be too many to stop you. 

Your heart began to beat faster. Bi-Han was his name. He was always cold, much suited for the cryomancer. When the marriage talks began he seemed indifferent, you did not blame him; it wasn’t like you were ecstatic either. 

But at the engagement, he didn’t appear happy. You sat across from him, his eyes pierced through you as if he wanted to disintegrate you on the spot. Yet he carried on his duties of presenting the betrothal gifts, which you accepted (it wasn’t as if you had a choice).

You wondered if he would look at you with the same animosity at the wedding ceremony. 

—————

You proceed with the ceremony, ever the dutiful daughter. You repeat the vows like clockwork, as does he. You notice how stoic he sounds and you at least attempt to sound happy, albeit not very convincing. 

Your families both rejoice, pleasantries and congratulations echo through the air. More so directed towards the respective families than they are at you or Bi-Han. 

The rest of the night is spent masquerading under the facade of an eager, happy bride. 

None saw through it, or maybe they did, and you chose to ignore their looks of pity. If they had been concerned, they could have spoken on your behalf prior. 

Your mother would shoot you a sympathetic glance every so often, engulf you in her arms, and hold you for longer than needed, not that you truly minded. Maybe it was her way of attempting an apology. Yet you didn’t blame her for being complacent. She was no stranger to arranged marriages and this one was needed for the overall good. You will miss her at your new home. 

On occasion, you felt as if you were catching the glances of the Grandmaster’s second son. He appeared understanding, his eyes shone kinder than your husband’s. You knew of the Grandmaster’s adopted son as well, he would smile whenever you looked his way. 

His brothers seemed kind, why couldn’t Bi-Han come off that way?

Then again, perhaps you were jumping to conclusions. Who’s to say Bi-Han wasn’t as kind? Maybe his serious demeanor was just a front, the same way you kept up your own. 

You would be able to tell later on. 

Hopefully. 

You don’t notice Bi-Han eyes drifting towards you while you remain lost in thought. 

—————

The wedding concludes just as fast as it began. You were yearning for the end of it, yet dreading it at the same time. 

You exchanged words of gratitude with the guests and said your goodbyes to your family. Reality was starting to hit you at this point. You were going to begin life anew with someone you considered a stranger at heart. 

You tried to shake off the thoughts as you were ushered to your new bedroom. Moonlight shone through the windows onto the bed, sheets fitted a shade of crimson with flower petals decorating it. You bit your lip as you changed into your sleeping attire and sat on the bed. A few candles burned nearby, and you wondered if they were aphrodisiacs. 

Tradition expected you to consummate your union on the wedding night, but surely he’d understand if you were nervous? You barely knew him… although you had to admit he was physically attractive. His eyes were piercing, his physique enticing, especially his biceps. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was well endowed…

What were you thinking? Perhaps it was your brain’s attempt to calm your nerves,

Time continued to pass by, and Bi-Han still hadn’t arrived. Where was he? Was he even coming? 

You couldn’t stifle the yawn that hit you. Maybe he was busy talking to his brother or father? Or maybe he wouldn’t come. 

Your mind began to wander. Maybe he had a lover he was saying goodbye to? Or maybe he had run away with a lover. You shook your head, 

‘He wouldn’t, not if he’s as responsible and serious as he comes off as.’ 

You found yourself lying down and resting your head against the pillow. Hopefully, it would not come off as disrespectful. You were just relaxing until he showed up; if he showed up at all. 

—————

You fell asleep, you didn’t mean to but the ceremony had exhausted you. 

Bi-Han found you sprawled out on the bed, the blanket residing at your feet. 

Truthfully, he avoided coming inside the bedroom. He had been pacing around in the main quarters before his father found him. The Grandmaster offered him words of advice and congratulations, which he begrudgingly accepted. 

He had also spoken with Kuia Liang and briefly with Tomas. They both seemed to sense his disdain no matter how much he tried to veil it. They advised him to be kind and understanding of how his new bride must be feeling. 

How would you be feeling? What stress would you have? You married into the strongest clan Earthrelm had. He on the other hand, now had one more burden to manage. 

He hated the idea of an arranged marriage. He didn’t want to be tied down nor distracted from his duties as part of the Lin Keui. However, he knew it was necessary if he was to take on the role of Grandmaster after his father.

His mother and father had their marriage arranged as well. Bi-Han had a suspicion that they had feelings for one another before their engagement, at least that’s what his mother would allude to. 

His new bride seemed to be adverse towards him. You barely looked at him, you barely spoke. Why were you so rude? 

Both his father and yours had made arrangements between you two to interact prior to the wedding, yet you seemed out of touch. At clan banquets you were indifferent.

He had seen you with others. He had watched you before, prior to the public proposal of an engagement between you two. His curiosity had gotten the best of him so he had kept an eye on you at meetings and other affairs. You were lively, a smile could be found on your lips more often than not. You would speak with passion. You found enjoyment in training with your fellow clan mates. You had a habit of cracking your knuckles when nervous. 

He tells himself he only became interested in watching you to better assess the situation; to see what he was getting himself into, or rather what his father had gotten him into. 

Why were you so different with him compared to the others? He saw how you interacted with Tomas and Kuia Liang. Did you prefer them over him?

Bi-Han clenched his jaw. What did he lack that made you so apprehensive? He is second in command to his father, he maintains his form, and he fulfills any duty that is required of him. What more could you want in a partner? 

Either way, this was an arrangement, he need not be so concerned with the actual ‘happiness’ of this marriage. He would fulfill his duties and he would expect you to fulfill yours. 

Yet here you were, already failing at that. 

Did you not want to consummate the marriage? Were you so careless towards tradition? 

His eyes narrowed at your sleeping form. Did you have a lover? Is that why you were being so distant? If you did he would find out sooner or later, and he would deal with that nuisance swiftly. 

He stepped closer. Your eyes were closed and the rhythm of your breathing was steady. 

Now, he would be lying if he said he didn’t find you visually appealing. 

Your lips looked soft and supple, your eyes warm yet inquisitive, your hands delicate compared to his.

Bi-Han scowled, what was he thinking? Was he already so easily distracted? 

He groaned as he prepared himself to sleep. He had an early morning tomorrow, as were most mornings. His father and brother offered him the chance to stay in with his bride, but he wouldn’t bother. His duties towards the Lin Kuei stopped for no one. 

As he gets into his side of the bed he notices you shivering and pulls the blanket over your sleeping form. He is able to do that much. 

He doesn’t bother to cover himself, why bother when he is accustomed to the cold. 

He maintains a noticeable distance between you two and turns his back away from you before he allows himself to fall into a slumber. 

———— 

You wake up the following morning. The spot next to you is empty. 

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han mk #lin kuei #I've never written an x-reader AU lol #Hopefully I caught all the grammatical errors #Blossoms signify new beginnings

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Bargain 2

Sequel to THIS

Warnings: financial stress and abuse, coercion, and some possible unmentioned triggers.

Character: Nick Fowler

Summary: Nick comes to reap his end of the deal.

As always, I appreciate all kinds of feedback. A like and reblog means so much to me! <3

Your mother thanks Constance for her tea. The nurse smiles and gives a soft ‘you’re welcome’ before offering anything else she may need. Your mother shakes her head and groans, lifting the steaming cup as hovers her hand over her hip, a gesture of her persistent pain.

She looks drawn. She doesn’t really have many good days. That day, she did her best. When you told her company was coming, she let you put on her makeup and chose favourite dress. Even though you told her she didn’t need to do all that. But you do.

You look down at yourself. A simple cobalt dress with short bishop sleeves. You did your best as well. That’s what you promised.

The doorbell rings. Constance comes out from the next room, “should I get that?” You nod, frozen in the silence. You wait and listen in dread. 

Nick enters but you don’t glance over. You see his shadow but refuse to see him. You fight to keep your cool. You not break and holler at him to leave. This isn’t about you.

“Ah, sorry, I’m late,” he comes to you and kisses your cheek, his hand on the small of your back before he steps away. He nears your mother, “you must be Angela.”

“It’s a pleasure,” your mother offers her hand. He takes it and bends to kiss her cheek as well, “oh, you are so polite,” she preens, “I’m sorry, I wish I could get up.”

“No, not at all,” he assures, “I trust your daughter explained that I have everything planned. I reserved a private walk down the greenhouse for us, I heard you're a fan of roses, then there’s a nice teahouse nearby. They do a great royal lunch.”

“That all sounds wonderful. I will try to keep my energy up.”

“Of course, Angela. If you feel like we need to go at any time,” he offers, “I’m just happy to finally get to meet you.”

“Me too. My daughter… she never keeps secrets. To be fair, this was the last secret I thought she’d ever keep. She’s not the sort for relationships.”

“Yes, I know. I did have to work at her,” he retreats to stand with you, “it was worth it.”

“Yeah, sorry, mom,” you force out through your tight throat.

Nick takes your hand, his palm rough against yours. 

“How rude of me, not to mention how beautiful you look, I love that colour on you, Angela,” he praises.

“Me, look at my daughter,” she swoons.

“Trust me, I can’t stop,” Nick turns to you, tugging you close. He presses his lips to your cheek again, “how lucky I am to get to do so for the rest of our lives.”

“Aw, so sweet,” your mother remarks, “I hope you don’t mind if I finish my tea first. I need the caffeine, my medications really tire me out.”

“Take your time, I’ll go get the car ready,” he affirms. He leans into you, lowering his voice as his lips tickle your temple, “I see you’re taking good care of her, sweetheart.”

You stiffen and nod, holding your smile. Your mother doesn’t notice the tension as she dabs a dribble of tea on her lip. She looks at the tissue dramatically. “Oh, dear, you’ll have to help me with my lipstick again.”

“Yes, mom,” you murmur.

“I’ll take good care of you,” Nick whispers sultrily against your ear, “as long as you do the same.”

He pulls back and pinches your chin between his thumb and knuckle. He makes you face him and you peer into his deep blue irises. He kisses you softly. Your mother aws from across the room.

“Now, let me just go get everything ready,” he squeezes your hand and slowly draws away, “this is going to be a great day, right, ladies?”

You nod and your mother sings her elation. Nick leaves and you stare after him. Your cheek twitches where he kissed it.

“He’s so nice, sweetheart,” your mother says airily, “I’m so happy you found someone like him. And his eyes, so gorgeous.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, and swallow tightly, “I’m so… lucky.”

#drabble #the bargain #nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #the 355

[changisworld]

“Just don’t tell her” TEASER

Stepdad!Binnie x reader 🙈

Summary; You don’t get along with your mom since her & your fathers divorce since she cheated on him but luckily you got an easy escape when college rolled around. It’s now summer break & you head home, mostly to gather a few more of your things but also to use the pool in your childhood home’s backyard but you got more than you bargained for when you seen your moms new, younger boyfriend.

Binnie is 27, reader is 20.

This teaser isn’t exactly NSFW but the full version WILL have smut since that is what i write, MDNI.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

as you take a few swigs out of the practically empty wine bottle, finishing it off before putting it on the counter. As you do this, you hear footsteps come into the room, beginning to recognise the sound of it. You turn around & unsurprisingly but happy at who it is in front of you, changbin is in front of you, curly hair on show & now in a loose white tank top & some baggy black shorts & you need to make a genuine effort to not drool all over yourself. "Look at us, matchy matchy." you tease as you touch his strap of his top, you both let out a small chuckle. "Yup, got the inspo from you, think you wore it better than me though. You cold, hmm? Shoulda took the blanket with you." He teases back, making you look down & you see that your nipples are poking through your shirt, extremely noticeable. Your cheeks go cherry coloured as you look back at him. "Why you staring hm? Mom wouldn't be happy." He scoffs, hand reaching out to play with the ends of your hair, twirling it in his fingers, the silence a lot more comfortable than earlier despite the contact being a lot more intimate now. "Hey! Don't blame me, who wouldn't look hmm? so p- don't act as if you didn't do it on purpose." he says, voice low & deep. "what were you gonna sayyy? What if I wanted you to see? Never said this before but your arms are so big, holy shit." you smirk as you prodd at his left arm, softly grabbing & touching at it which gives him goosebumps. "Was just g'na call em perky is all. Imagine your mom heard you talking to her boyfriend like this." You roll your eyes, trying to not to show the affect he has on your words. "Imagine my mom hearing you talking to her daughter like this.. Afraid you chosen the wrong one hmm? Incase you somehow haven't caught on, I personally, would do anything to make her miserable." You have no idea where the confidence has came from but you don't second guess what you're saying. Your fingers leave his arm as you let your fingers trail up past his jaw & up to his hair, playing with it, at the same time Changbin pulls you in closer by the waist, sharing breath. "Never knew I could only make one choice.. Could correct myself one day but what would you offer me, y/n?" he says to you, a different look in his eyes than what was there earlier in the day. "Would need to just find out now, wouldn't you?" You snap back, leaning in just enough to wiggle your nose against his, not breaking eye contact. As you do this you hear footsteps upstairs & the bathroom door opening & closing which makes you both semi permanently snap out of it. He sighs before looking at the direction of the door then turning back to you, hands not moving. "We can finish this conversation later mkay? Wanna gimme a teaser though before I need to go?" he whispers to you & before you can stop yourself, you lean in & kiss him. It only lasts a few seconds but you know you can both feel some sort of weird connection between you both & you can't help but think & admire how soft his lips are, like mini cushions against your own. You both break away at the same time & he playfully ruffles your hair, messing it up before stepping away from you. "Goodnight, y/n." He says nonchalantly despite his cheeks & ears blushing like crazy before leaving the room, leaving you standing there, taking in what just hapened.

Full oneshot will be released 28/04/24 -> 29/04/24🤍

#teaser #skz smut #stray kids #changbin #binnie #oneshot #skz imagines #skz scenarios #straykids x reader #straykids #han jisung #hyunjin #jeongin #seungmin #bang chan #felix #lee know #skz x reader #skz

[upsidedownwithsteve]

ok hear me out. girl dad steve but the little girl is just so wednesday coded. i cri

the crossover we didn’t know we needed.

Margot had grown into four year old who was incredibly in tune with the world around her. She was smart, creative and amazing at communicating with the people in her life.

She loved the outdoors and her nightlight that shone stars on the walls of her room, she loved her stuffed bat from uncle Eddie and she liked it when Steve played his old records, the snap and crackle of them.

She didn’t have to always be happy about it all though.

Steve’s daughter had taken after her mom in that sense, her little features more often than not, looking a little sullen. But her chubby cheeks and wide eyes made her look more comical than scary, not quite at your level of chilling.

Not yet.

And on this rare Saturday where you’d had to get called into work - an emergency - your boss had said, Steve said goodbye to you at the front door, Margot by his legs, arms wrapped around his knees.

He’d kissed you goodbye, never getting over the feeling of you leaning into him, softening even though you’d spent the morning scowling as you packed your bag with files and lunch - and a tiny mason jar that seemed to be filled with some dirt and what looked like a bone, but Steve didn’t ask.

Margot had granted you a kiss goodbye too, lips pouting ‘cause she hated when you left but Steve ushered her back inside with the promise of a day of fun. At her choosing, of course.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Steve told her, “what d’you wanna do today, huh? We could bake some cookies or visit uncle Eddie? Or, or we could see what uncle Dustin is doing, maybe he’d meet us at the park. What d’you say?”

Steve looked down at the toddler, smiling at the sight of her still wrapped around his legs, chin resting on his thigh as she peered up at him. She was contemplating his options with a somewhat serious frown, a tiny stitch between her brows. Her hair was a still a mess from bed, the curls that formed around her neck and ears staring to look more and more like his every day.

“Can we go t’woods?”

“The woods?” Steve repeated, shuffling forward until Margot got the hint and stood on his feet. “What do you wanna go there for?”

Steve walked as Margot clung, only lifting her when they got to the stairs and the tot squeaked when her dad wrangled her over his shoulder. She clung to his hair as he jogged up to her room, setting her on her bed as he dug for suitable clothes. And a hairbrush, ‘cause you’d have stern words for him if you came home to your baby with tangled curls again.

“Bugs,” Margot said plainly, still staring up at her dad, unblinking.

Steve sighed. “Bugs? What do you want bugs for?”

“They’re cool,” Margot told him, sounding far too exasperated for a four year old as Steve offered a pink and red striped sweater for her to wear. “I don’t like that sweater.”

“But aunt Robin bought it for you,” Steve tried to bargain.

She merely scrunched her nose in distaste, an action that immediately made her look like a carbon copy of you and Steve would’ve sighed if it didn’t make his heart ache.

He was soft. Too soft, Eddie told him, especially so considering he had two girls that were partly made from ice.

“Okay, you pick.”

It surprised no one when the girl pointed to the black pinafore that hung too high for Margot to reach, but as Steve brought it off the hanger, she scampered to find a shirt to wear underneath it.

“But, bugs?” Margot reminded him, throwing a dark, dark green jumper on the floor by his feet. “I need mo’ bugs.”

It was a wrestle to get Margot dressed, the kid not really wanting to stay still as she tried to reach for the tiny net that hung behind her door, mumbling about her ‘bug boots’ at the same time.

“Baby, what do you need bugs for?” Steve tried not to sound too impatient, but he recalled a time when you once led him into the woods. He came away with pockets full of tiny bones and no explanation, and to this day, he’d open drawers in the house to find a little femur or two. “What’re you doing with the bugs?”

“S’a secret,” Margot told him solemnly and there she went again, staring up at him with an unnerving stillness.

“Margot, baby, you gotta blink more,” Steve muttered, barely paying attention as he tried to grab her tiny hand through her sleeve, pulling it through properly. “And you don’t get to keep secrets from your dad.”

The girl fluttered her lashes and Steve hummed his praise before dropping a kiss to her head and searching for the brush.

And when Steve returned to tame her bed head into two pigtails, his daughter just shrugged and mumbled, “I jus’ like bugs.”

#ask #steve harrington #steve harrington x wednesday!reader #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction

[obxone]

Vigilante Shit (Chapter Six)

Edited-ish. ~3.1k words

Tag list: @fishingirl12 @gillybear17 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gills-lounge @emmafitzzz @redfieldfx @baby19sthings

Masterpage

Kildare County Detention Center looms before you. You sigh, shouldering your bag before climbing the steps into the building. You smile weakly at the sheriff as you go through the process of getting scanned for any possible weapons and contraband.

“Maybank, through here,” Peterkin gestures to the enclosed room after a deputy escorts you down the hall. Several incarcerated men bang on their doors and yell at you from their cells, but you ignore them.

The room is larger than you expected. Several people sit at aluminum tables that are placed throughout for inmates and visitors to sit at while they talk. You see your dad sitting at a table. His back to you, but that does not stop the nerves from exploding inside of you. In an attempt to wipe them away, you brush your hands down your jean clad thighs. It does not work. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She stops you, arm barred across the doorframe before you can enter. “I’m glad you are back, Sweetheart. I hear you’ve turned over a new leaf. Now, we need to get your brother to do the same. That’s the trick.”

“I’m trying. For both of us.”

“Good. You don’t need to end up in a place like this, you hear me? Either of you.”

You nod, and she drops her arm to let you through. You slid onto the bench across from Luke. He stares at you, a smirk toying at his lips.

“And the prodigal daughter returns.”

You huff as you drop the bag of things you had with things that were allowed to be given to him onto the table. “Do you even know what that word means? You barely graduated high school if I remember correctly.”

He snorts but seizes the bag and rifles through it. “Why are you here, y/n?”

“To let you know, I’m back and cleaning up some of the mess you created.” You say, chin raised as you stand your ground. “Again.”

He smirks, picking at the pack of cards you had brought him. “My dutiful daughter. Barry found out you’re back?”

You shrug, clasping your hands together. “Barry knows. When do they think you’ll go to trial?”

“Next month.”

“A plea bargain offered yet?”

He nods, the tip of his tongue toying with the inside of his bottom lip. “Five years in prison and parole for two after.”

“Was it worth it?”

He laughs, that dark maniacal laugh you hate. “What do you think?”

“No.”

“Smart girl. You always were, you know.” He looks up at you through his lashes. “Just like your momma. You’ve always been just like her. You look like her, and you act like her too.” He goes back to digging in the bag like a toddler that is ready to count his prizes. “Thought you were gone for good.”

“I did, too,” you confess quickly. “But JJ needs someone in his corner.”

“He didn’t want to come today?”

“No.”

He frowns, shaking his head. “Ungrateful bastards, both of you.”

“Ungrateful?” You ask, venom lacing into your next words. “Ungrateful that you abused us, barely managed to provide enough food and shelter to keep us alive? Oh wait, or is it that we both had to start working when we were old enough to pay the bills because you are a cocaine addict and always gambled away our rent money?”

He rears back like you have smacked him, and you smirk at him. Pride swells inside of you because you are still able to dig back at him. 

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“You are such a little shit. After everything you’ve done, you want to talk to me like this?”

“Everything I’ve done?” Your eyebrows raise, and your gaze hardens. “If I remember correctly, I almost ruined my future getting you out of debt with a drug dealer because you couldn’t pay for your cocaine habit.”

He shakes his head. “You started with him before my debt ever came up.”

You ignore his retort as the anger builds inside of you. “I’m not scared of you anymore. And I will be making damn sure JJ isn’t. You gave us nothing and took everything. This will be the last time you see me. You will never see him again. Not if I have any say.”

You begin to get to your feet and leave him, but he snaps and reaches out after jumping to his feet. He grabs your wrist tightly, yanking you against the table to keep you there.

“Who are you to walk away from me?!”

“Let. Me. Go.”

His grip tightens, and he yanks hard. You gasp, pain spreading up your arm and around your hips, as he tugs you harshly against the table’s edge.

“Inmate Maybank, let her go,” Peterkin orders from across the room. She and four other deputies are in the room along with the original set of guards. Several other inmates and their families look up to see what the commotion is about. Your cheeks redden as all the attention in the room shifts to you. “Let her go, now.”

“Not until she apologizes for being a brat!” He tightens his grip again, and you wince, body bowing from pain, curling away from him as he glares at you. His sole focus is on causing you the most pain he can now. “Apologize! I raised you better than this.”

“You didn’t raise me at all.” You spit at him and try to yank your arm back, but he only yanks you closer again. The upper half of your body practically pulled over the tabletop. “Big John did, The Cut did, you did nothing!”

“Let her go!” Peterkin demands louder, a taser lifted in his direction. “Luke, I will tase you right now if you do not.”

He lets you go and shoves you harshly away from him. You fall backward over the bench. You close your eyes tightly, ready to topple over, but a strong grip prevents you from crashing into the floor.

Deputy Thomas glares at Luke after he helps you back onto your feet, and you glance around, fighting the tears of humiliation. Peterkin steps up to your side and reaches for your wrist.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, carefully moving your wrist away from her reach.

“If you’re sure.”

You nod, turning your attention to your dad. You would not give him the satisfaction of seeing your crack under his aggression anymore. “I just need to say goodbye.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, and gestures for the other four to leave the room with her.

After they are gone, the attention seems to shift away from you both. You raise your chin and glare at him. “You might be my family, and I wish I could say I loved you. But I don’t. You are terrible, you’re horrible, and I hope that you rot in here,” you mutter as you rub your injured wrist. Tears sting your eyes, but you refuse to cry in front of him. You will hold it in until you get to your car. “Enjoy your time in prison.”

You leave him behind, and despite your hopes for him not to, he screams after you. Your name and profanities blend perfectly enough together to drag you back to your childhood.

Once you are in the safety of your car, you exhale, pressing your forehead to the steering wheel. Nails bite into your thighs when you grip your legs and try to calm your racing heart. Old tendencies ache to be unleashed so that you can take out the hurt brewing in you. To release it from under your skin. You nor JJ would ever come back to visit him. Not after today.

The tears brim over and streak down your face as you shiver at the reminders of childhood. Of that haunted look in his eyes as he assaulted you. It is the same look her had when he used to yell at you and abuse you because you were too much like your mom.

After getting control of yourself and trapping that damaged little girl back in her hiding hole, you head to Figure 8. A shift at the Island Club is the last thing you want to do, but it is what you have to do. Finding a parking spot is the first thing you do before you shut off the car and dig out a makeup remover wipe to use on your face with hopes to try and get rid of the tearstains on your cheeks, and that is when you notice it. A brilliant red mark is left from Luke’s grip on your wrist. You will bruise, just like you always do after he hurts you. And this one is a very public bruise, unable to be hidden by clothing because long sleeves during summer in a beach town would raise just as many questions.

“Welcome to chaos,” Summer greets you at the door of the girl's locker room when you emerge from changing into your Island Club uniform.

Confusion paints across your features, and you stare at her for a moment. “What chaos? It’s a Wednesday.”

“Lauren went out to deliver a drink to Mr. Beckett and hasn’t returned.”

“What?”

She nods, not impressed with the bartender’s actions. “And then Gerald went to find her, and he is missing too.”

“How long?” You ask as you tie your apron into place. Being down a bartender and a barback is not a good thing, especially when the backup is not due to arrive for another two hours.

“An hour nearly since Lauren went and fifteen since Gerald went.”

“And no one has seen them?”

She shakes her head, and you look at your watch.

“I have ten minutes to spare before I’m even allowed to touch the timecard system. I’m going to go look.”

“Please for the love of the ocean, come back when your shifts begins!” She begs, and you wave at her with a laugh as you jog to the golf course. The first mission, find Mr. Beckett, and maybe they are with him. If not, the second mission is to track them down. Sometimes the older guests could be demanding and promising a good tip if you stuck it out with them, which is the most likely reason that they have gone missing.

“Well, look who it is!”

You smile tightly when you see Kelce grinning at you and Topper not far behind him. “Hey, Kelce.”

He offers you a fist bump, and you take it, not wanting to start anything.

“Your boyfriend should be coming soon. Reese lost one of his golf clubs during a swing.”

You giggle, picturing him swinging the club, and it goes flying along with the ball.

“Right into the water hazard, it was glorious,” Topper supplies with a gloating grin. “What are you doing out here? Are you a cart girl today?”

“No, looking for Lauren and Gerald.”

Kelce shakes his head, looking around. “Haven’t seen them.”              

“They were helping Mr. Beckett.”

“Oh!” Kelce grins. “He’s out by the sixteenth hole.”

“Of course he is,” you frown, looking around for a staff member on a golf cart. “Thanks, Kelce!”

“Anytime.”

You wave at him and ignore Topper, who is grinning like the cat that ate the canary as you walk away. You shiver in disgust before climbing one of the grassy hills to see if you can spot them or a golf cart to temporarily use.

“What are you doing out here?”

You sigh, eyes closing briefly when it is Rafe that meets you at the top. Likely on his way to his two kook friends.

“Are you a cart girl now?”

“Nope. Just looking for two staff people.”

“Lauren and Gerald?”

You nod, squinting against the sun. “Have you seen them?”

“Sixteenth hole.”

You huff, kicking the toe of your shoe into the grass. “I’ve heard.” You plant your hands on your hips, judging if walking out there is worth being late and risking Summer having a panic attack. “I should’ve grabbed a golf cart.”

He smirks, squinting against the sun before he shifts his club to his other hand. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

Your attention snaps to him in surprise, and he shrugs, looking away.

“I was.”

The silence hangs for a second, and you reach up to fix your hair in an attempt to busy yourself. When you had dated, Rafe always had a way of knowing when you had been crying, even if you redid your makeup to cover it up. You never could figure out how he knew when no one else ever did.

“Have anything to do with the mark on your wrist?”

Another huff escapes you, and you turn your attention back to him. “You are too observant, you know.”

“I know you.”

“You used to,” you amend, closing your eyes briefly. “I went to the detention center, saw my dad.”

“And?”

“And he grabbed me,” you shrug before taking a step past him. The conversation is turning in a direction that you would rather not have with him. “Just like old times.”

He groans, shaking his head. “Why’d you go?”

“To see if he was getting out soon.”

“And?”

You bite your lip and look at him, tipping your head. “Why do you care?”

He stares at you, his gaze hardening by the second. “Forget it, Maybank. Enjoy your walk.” He turns his back to you and walks away, and you notice the hard tension in his shoulders and the way his neck has a slight red hue to it. Kelce and Topper joke with him loud enough that you can hear them, and it answers whether the walk is worth it or not for you. You would much rather make the walk than have to pass that trio again to get back to the clubhouse.

You spot Mav and Reese once you are clear of the next dune. Reese’s shorts are damp from wading into the water hazard, but he seems happy from what you can tell.

“Hey!” Reese grins, hugging you before Mav can. “What are you doing out here?”

You smile at him, patting his shoulders, and he drops you onto your feet. You shake your head at him as you hug Mav, sinking into his chest that you have found someone you want to be near. “I heard someone lost a club to a water hazard...”

Mav laughs as Reese rolls his eyes, grumbling about his misfortune.

“Kidding,” you laugh while staying pressed to Mav’s side. “Hunting two stray staff members.”

“Want me to walk with you?” Mav asks, his hand tightening around yours.

You shake your head. “I think I’ve got it. Enjoy golfing. I’ll see you later though, okay?”

Reese grins, his gaze shifting between the two of you. “She coming to the cookout tonight?”

Mav groans, shaking his head. “I hadn’t asked her yet.”

“My bad,” Reese mumbles before shrugging. “Ask her now. See you later, y/n.”

“Later,” you laugh as he runs off, unfazed by his slip-up. You turn to Mav and frown at the defeated look on his face. “It’s fine, Mav. I can play dumb if you want.”

He shakes his head and widens his stance to allow himself to be closer to your height. His lips brush your forehead. “Will you come to my family’s cookout tonight?”

Your eyes widen a bit at the realization. “Like meet your parents?”

He shrugs. “They’ll be there.”

“But…” Your mouth goes dry.

“They know about you already if that is your concern.”

“Ah,” you murmur before looking off over the visible parts of the course and the ocean at the edge. “Then yes, I will come.”

“Yeah?” He asks, happiness spreading through him as he cups your face with both hands.

You nod before leaning up on your toes to peck his lips. “I’d love to.”

“Good!” He smiles, and you run your fingers up his forearms to his hands. “Now that we have that out of the way, I have another question.”

“Go for it.”

“Have you been crying?”

The serotonin boost is temporary as you deflate and huff again. “Maybe.”

“Why?”

“Rough morning.”

His lips press into a line, and he gently lifts your marked wrist. “Have something to do with this?”

“Also, maybe.”

“What happened?”

You exhale and try to ignore the sadness as you watch him examine your wrist. “Nothing major. I’m okay, I promise.”

He frowns, his touch gentle as he flips your wrist over to inspect the inside of your wrist. “You can tell me, you know. It’s part of how dating works…” He looks at you with a teasing tilt to his lips, but you can see the concern in his eye. His attention shifts back to your injury, head bending over your wrist to inspect it further. “You don’t have to lie for my benefit, y/n. I like you, all of you.”

You blush a little and carefully pull your wrist from his hands. “Okay, truth then...” You fidget with your fingers for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I went to visit my dad in jail. He’s awaiting trial, and I went to see if there is a possibility he would get released anytime soon.”

“Is he?”

“No.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Mav attempts to read you.

“Good. If he gets out, then I can’t stay here.”

He frowns. “Why not?”

“It’s a long story.” You murmur, glancing back at the clubhouse. You are late now and likely sending Summer into a spiral. “But he used to abuse me. It is one of the many reasons I had to move away a few years ago.”

Mav nods before clearing his throat. “I can keep you safe, you know. So you can stay…”

You smile, stepping into his space. “Thank you, but I’m safe with him in jail. And I’m staying… some people need me here.”

Mav smiles at you. “Good.”

You smile at him, dragging your hand over his arm. "Now that we have caught up and I've agreed to meet your parents, I need to go find my coworkers, okay?"

He smiles before leaning in and kissing you. You kiss him back before patting his waist and starting the trek out to the sixteenth hole.

(Chapter Seven)

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x maybanksibling!reader

[martelltyrellmont]

ɢʟɪᴍᴘꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ

Summary: Where Viserys marries for the third time, upon learning that Alicent Hightower shows signs of Greyscale.

Part 2

My name is Arianne Velaryon, youngest daughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys, Rider of Vemithor, third wife of King Viserys Targaryen, Mother of his last Son Daeron "the gentlest" Targaryen or also known as the Hightower bargaining chip or the treacherous whore

Note: two years older than Aegon, 13 and 14 years younger than Laena and Laenor.

Foreword

The Old, The True, The Brave.

Castle Driftmark - High Tide

2 years before

I could hear the waves crash against the rocks, in such a violent way that the walls rumbled, with my eyes half closed I knew what my destiny was, I was ready or I convinced myself that I was, exactly 8 moons ago the King had decided to marry again , the rumors pointed out that the queen had fallen from grace, she had Greyscale.

My father Lord Corlys offered my hand at minute one when the king announced his second marriage, as Aegon the Conqueror exercising the right to a second wife, until now I had been courted by the king, when announcing our engagement my family celebrated the victory, a victory to my base.

I always thought that I would marry someone Young, for example ser. Erryk Cargyll - a sigh took hold of my ribcage, lying on my bed, I only had the company of my lady Lina Mares.

Her eyes were violet like mine, we shared almost all the characteristics of the same hair color, except that my skin tone was lighter than the rest of Velaryon and her bastards, she looked at me the same way I looked at her, her gaze reflected melancholy and anguish.— I heard the rumor that Lord Corlys rejected his proposal, being a lower house than yours, my lady, it is also said that for this reason I led him to want to be part of the royal guards

Lina sighed, but continued— look on the bright side both the king and queen are each sick, if you care about being with the king every night, I don't think it's like that, remember that Aegon spent 10 nights with Rhaenys for 2 that It was happening with Visenya. — but Lina forgot the little detail Alicent was sick. — On the other hand, my mother informed me that Princess Rhaenys, I ask that I accompany you as your lady-in-waiting in Red Keep — the white-haired woman took my hand. — you will not be alone and I doubt your parents will leave you alone in that nest of vipers as you call it.

Just smile. "Thank you seven, there's only one more detail left, it's awkward that my stepson and I are only two years apart, remember what he said when they announced our engagement." He let go of my hand and we both sat on my bed.

Yes, and it was very rude of hers.— We sighed.

I didn't know how to feel about it and the thing is that Aegon from what little I know him was right, "He's my age, how is that possible, at least 5 years older than me", I heard him roar, looking at my father with disgust and to his, if I could do that I would have done it too, that same day Otto Hightower congratulated me, his look was disappointed, it is not strange he practically took the place from his daughter who at that moment was her the only one looking at us was a look of complicity, sadness, desolation but above all fraternity, she was my age when she had Aegon, then Helaena and Aemond, both children congratulated me warmly and coldly, respectively.

»»————- -ˏˋ : ♛︎ : ଂ————-««

A week later…

After that day, my life went so fast that I didn't know what day it was, the wedding was fast, embarrassing and the tournament was the bloodiest so far.

Erryk did everything possible to ignore me, the person in charge of my security was the one at the request of my father, it is worth saying that he strictly prohibited me from talking about that guard and our old relationship, on the other hand Aegon is kinder and more understanding, I can't say much about Aemond who rarely sees us, Helaena spends it in my chambers, both the king and I are in separate Chambers, on the other hand Alicent had asked me to speak two days after the wedding.

Lina, walk faster.— my dress was blue with black, my hair was braided, revealing a braid that reached my thighs, a small tiara with a shell was on my head.— wait.— I exclaimed at the moment of this catch up with me.— I hate nerves.— I looked at both sides of the hall.— If he found out about Erryk and me?, will they think he is here for me?— My eyes showed terror or something like that because Lina placed her hand on my shoulder.

Don't say that even in a whisper.— she hugged me, to then look at that guard who was 6 steps from us.— the walls hear and can misinterpret your words.

We separated and continued walking more slowly and laughing on the tapestries, lina stayed behind and that servant from Dorne, guided me to where Ella was, Alicent was taller than me, curly hair, reddish, green eyes, you could tell she was always she had been so beautiful, my predecessor, she smelled of jasmine and vanilla, she also had a royal guard, being. Criston Cole, she had seen him a few days ago talking to Cargyll, they both stayed outside the room.

Darling!” she exclaimed as if she were his favorite person, we were two meters away, for obvious reasons.

I looked down when he spoke to me, I stupidly bowed. "My queen, how has she been?" .- Stupid, I told myself, you are also the queen.

You don't need to do that, we're both queens.— Then I turned my gaze to hers, I could only think, what concept she had of me, perhaps this invitation was because she liked me or simply hypocrisy.— Sit down, they're bringing you wine .

"Do not eat or drink what the Hightowers give you", my father had warned me, before leaving, and it was that he did not hurt to take care of his youngest daughter, especially when a rival member is a carrier of a lethal disease.

My parents were of Valyrian blood, therefore I was too, but even so they did not want to risk it, it is understandable my father had made trips to Valyria so carefully, that his stories left me Horrified. — How do you feel about your life at home? .

Sitting at that table, I looked at the tablecloth which had a tower with a flame embroidered on it. "Very good, well I guess." A nervous laugh left my mouth.

The talk continued like this until I saw a collapsed Alicent. "To be honest, I wanted to ask you a huge favor." I just nodded my head and she continued. "Could you take care of Aemond and Helaena? My sweet little man is just a child who needs to his mother, but as you know I have this disease, he is a quiet but withdrawn child, while Helaena, she is my sweet girl, she loves insects.— She was a mother who cared for her children, seeking help to raise them.— As you know, the king ignores them.

I've seen little, but yes.— I interrupted her, by mistake.

I just smile, continuing. "You'll realize that the king only has eyes for his eldest daughter and grandchildren, he has abandoned my children so much." He didn't know what to do, Alicent had started crying. "This is more." It is evident that he is going to abandon them one more time.— His hand was on his mouth and nose revealing wound marks, "like mine" I thought to my miasma.

Alicent, don't worry, I can take care of your three children, the best I can, if I were in your place I would also ask for the same thing.— She looked at me for the last time, gratefully, she called one of her girls to give the order to take all the things of her three children to the wing where the king had accommodated me, sixth floor to the left, one floor below her, but above Rhaenyra who ignored me, with her children, except my brother and her It is worth mentioning that we both had extremely different ages.— I promise to pray for them and for you.— “Too much confidence” I reminded myself and I remembered my mother's scolding about the confidence that I dream of presenting sometimes.

Thank you my sweet queen.— We both said goodbye.

»»————- -ˏˋ : ♛︎ : ଂ————-««

Eight months later.

A month after taking care of Alicent's children and Rhaenyra's protests at this, Viserys had requested that the maesters check me and that's what happened.

Congratulations my queen, you are pregnant. — Of course my son was not created out of love, but obligation, but that did not matter that I was so happy about it, the bells rang day and night for two days, my parents traveled more frequently, They didn't like my closeness with my stepsons, but they tolerated it.

This can benefit us. — my mother told me. — you will not make the same mistakes as your predecessor and this is a great advance.

— I looked at my stomach, caressing it. — I know, only Rhaenyra keeps pointing me out as a traitor. — The last few months I had noticed the change of the heiress towards me, especially in my state and how I became so attached to her younger brothers. - On several occasions, I had to scold Laenor's children, because they made Aemond cry, she claims that I don't have to interfere. - I was furious, exalted. - But she can scold them. - I closed my eyes remembering the A bad moment that he had suffered the previous day at the hands of his stepdaughter/sister-in-law. — Aemond, in any case, has no mother, he sees her sporadically, the three of them are helpless, how could he abandon them.

Motherhood leaves you very sensitive.— The queen who never was responded, we both knew that Laena and I were polar opposites and that was what my mother remembered.

The weeks flew by until finally, my baby was born, it was at dawn, Viserys was the first to take it, naming our son Daeron Targaryen.

Sorry for my English 😰

#aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon the conqueror #ser erryk x reader #daeron the drunken #queen helaena #alicent x viserys #alicent x reader #corlys velaryon #rhaenys targaryen velaryon #luke velaryon #leana velaryon #king viserys #viserys x reader #aegon x aemond #aegon x y/n #house velaryon #house targaryen #aegon x jacaerys #aemond targaryen #aemond x helaena #otto hightower #rhaenys x corlys #rhaenys the queen who never was

[eletricheart]

The five stages

(Mother Miranda x Reader)

*image creds to the owner

Word count: 653

I had Lover by Taylor Swift in my head all day long, so this story was mostly a mix of lover with the five stages of grief. This mix is what I believe to be how Miranda would view a love interest.

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

Denial

Mother Miranda was mostly a factual person, always choosing the logical option, never allowing herself to have emotions nor getting distracted.

That's why, when she met you, the scientist initially believed you were a spy, sent to distract her. Of course, her theories only got stronger as you would follow her around, always paying attention with a stupid smile on your face.

Miranda considered killing you, it should be easy considering how you went with her to the underground lab…alone. The priestess thought it was all a trick, you couldn't possibly trust her that blindly, you couldn't mean all the compliments, you couldn't blush every time she looked, you couldn't laugh at the things she said, you just couldn't be you.

Anger

Miranda didn't kill you, in fact she explained all of her work, her creations, her failures, everything.

She expected you to run, to scream and call her a monster…but you didn't. You just nodded and paid attention as if the woman was telling you the secrets of the universe.

Miranda wanted to hate you. When she pushed you out of her lab, she thought of hating you.

As she broke the chairs and ripped the papers, the woman realized why she couldn't hate you.

Bargaining

Miranda ignored you for a while, diving deep into her experiments in order to forget the storm inside. But not even the hardest of equations was enough to erase you, so she tried to think logically.

The priestess had a goal, she needed her daughter and clearly your presence was disturbing. Therefore, the woman went to your house to offer you a deal, all you had to do was leave.

You never denied the Goddess, even if her wishes broke your heart, after all it was hers to do as she wants. You obviously left, but not before leaving your number with her, just in case.

Miranda should be relieved, she found the answer to her problems, so why did it hurt so much.

Depression

With you gone it was as if a dark cloud had been established at the village.

Miranda continued her obligations, to the public eye she was perfect, a true Goddess. But in private, her kitchen became a forbidden room, the woman wouldn't get close to the door, not wanting to hear the ghost sound of your laughter. Her experiments were put on hold, using all of her energies to research instead of a practical approach.

Miranda considered calling you many times, but these situations would usually end in laying on the bed throughout the day or murdering the lycans nearby.

What made her call was the memory of a rainy day. It was during the days Miranda ignored you, without telling why. So, you did the most reasonable action in your mind, you sang Taylor Swift under her window with a guitar in the rain…that was the first time she blushed.

Acceptance

Miranda was hesitant with your return, but would never admit it was simply the fear of rejection. However, you saw her as an old friend, smiling and telling stories as if nothing happened.

It took the priestess two months to start courting you. The woman would constantly bring you gifts, most being shiny objects or rocks.

You weren't stupid, you noticed ever since she threw you off her lab. So, you decided to do the same, except that your presents were flowers and baked goods.

By the end of the year, your relationship (in Miranda's view) had gone from possible enemies to lovers. But, the only person who knew was Donna who had the unfortunate encounter with you and Angie attempted to kidnap you…it was very hard to convince Miranda to not burn the doll.

But setting accidents apart, all was well as long as you two were together. You may have known each other for only one summer, but it was clear you would have them all.

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

masterlist

#non canon #re8 #resident evil village #resident evil #fanfic #mother miranda #re8 mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #re8 fic #re8 fanfiction #resident evil fluff #resident evil fandom #resident evil fanfiction

[winter-leftovers]

Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter eleven: Smother (11/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Y/n learns about Douxie’s new feelings for her. Strickler needs protection

Word count: 2582

Warnings: lil bit of angst?

(Season 1 Episode 20, 21,23,24)

Song?: Smother by Daughter

Previous - Next

Masterlist

“Jim is in more danger than we thought” Y/n grabbed one of Blinky’s books and showed him the page she was reading “Angor Rot made a bargain. He obtained his magic but cursed his soul into a single ring, the Inferna Copula” she pointed to the picture of the ring.

“Mm, picture. Helpful” said Aaarrrgghh.

“Who wears the ring, controls him” Y/n continued. When her magic came back, a lot of knowledge came back too.

“It says here that Angor’s been stealing the souls of Trollhunters in a blasphemous attempt to fill the void ever since” Blinky grabbed the book from Y/n’s hands. After a moment he turned to his friend “You don’t have to hide it from me. I might only have two eyes, but I can see clear as day. It’s obvious”

After their quest to Gatto’s cave, Blinky had returned differently. The once blue troll was now…a human.

Y/n straight herself up. She had sensed a shift in Aaarrrgghh behavior but said nothing in fear of overstepping.

“Ever since my human deformity you have been…distant” Blinky complained.

Y/n frowned. She wasn’t expecting that.

“Uh…yes. Distant” the bigger troll nodded.

“I may look different but I’m the same Blinky. How about to cheer you up, maybe later today, I could rent a mini-van we could go for a drive? Something with tinted windows, of course” Blinky offered with excitement. He was desperate to fix the problem that had separated from his friend “I hear we are not too far away from the world’s largest thermometer! I bet you could eat it!”

“Mm, not today” Aaarrrgghh shook his head and left the library.

“Perhaps another time, my dear friend” Blinky said as he watched his friend leave.

“I’m sorry, Blinky” Y/n tapped his shoulder in an attempt to calm his sadness.

Blinky sighed, still looking at the door.

—

Y/n walked down the stairs of her house in a hurry. She overslept and was late to her shift at the store.

“Hey, m-“ she stopped when she saw Blinky sitting on the couch. She furrowed her brow. Why would the troll be here?

“Oh, good, good. Good afternoon, Mr. President Eisenhower” Blinky said into the phone.

Y/n rolled her eyes “Great cover” she thought.

“I suppose I could pencil you in” he stood up and walked away to a place where Barbara couldn’t hear him.

Y/n stood still at the foot of the stairs, observing Blinky mumbling into his phone.

“Angor Rot is in the school” she heard him say.

She took a deep breath and said “Mr. Blinky, do you need a ride to the school? I could give you one” she already had her hand on the door.

“Oh, yes, yes. Thank you, very much” Blinky nodded nonstop.

They were out the door and in Y/n’s car before Barbara could say something.

She started her old car and prayed for no transit.

“Do you think I could, you know, drive?” Blinky turned to her.

Y/n turned to him. Eyes wide open. She couldn’t believe his timing.

“Not today but someday” he continued.

“No” she stepped on the accelerator.

By the time they got there the fight was over. The police was there making sure all the kids were there.

“Master Jim” Blinky ran to Jim, Toby and Claire.

“Is everyone okay?” Y/n asked “Sorry for the delay. We wanted to help but we had to make a couple bathroom breaks” she gave Blinky a dirty look.

“Oh dear!” Blinky stomach gurgled.

“How did you survive Angor Rot?” Y/n asked ignoring the troll.

“Long story” Jim sighed and turned to where Strickler was standing “Have you heard of the Inferna Copula?”

“Indeed, I have” said Blinky. He and Y/n shared a look after seeing the ring on the changeling’s hands.

—

“Okay. We wait until he’s asleep” said Jim.

“I use my shadow staff to get us in” added Claire.

“And I ever so gently remove the ring from his finger”

“Woah. Hold up there, Mr. Storyteller. Do changelings even sleep?” Toby interrupted his friend.

“Yes, but we don’t know Strickler’s schedule” Y/n explained through the phone.

The kids were reunited in Claire’s house planning how to steal the Inferna Copula from Strickler, Y/n couldn’t go because she had to make up for being late to her shift.

“Good point. New plan” said Jim “We spike his coffee with extra strength cold medicine.

“I use my shadow staff”

“And I brin my warhammer in case that doesn’t knock him out”

“And I ever so gently…”

“Wait. What if he’s not alone? His office was guarded last time” interrupted Claire.

“Okay, fine. We spike the coffee”

“Shadow staff”

“I use my warhammer to take out his goons”

“Then, I ever so gently remove the ring”

“But what if it doesn’t come off?” Toby interrupted.

“Why would it not come off?” Jim was getting nervous.

“Oh lord” Y/n said to herself.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s glued on, or he added a few pounds” Toby explained his reasoning.

“Why would it be glued on, you dingus?” Claire said.

“You said be ready for every precaution!”

“He’s waking up!” Screamed Claire.

“Oh, how is he waking up? This isn’t even really happening!” Complained Jim.

“Cut off his hand!” Claire screamed again

“What?”

Y/n giggled. She could see the desperation in his brother’s eyes.

“Use your sword. Hurry do it!” Claire insisted.

“No, I’m not gonna cut—“

“Do it! Do it! Before it’s too late”

“Wait!” Y/n stood up.

The man that was still hanging out in the store looked at her.

“Sorry” she whispered. She sat back down and turned to the side so he wouldn’t hear her.

“If you cut his hand you cut mom’s hand too”

“Oh, I forgot. Angor Rot’s binding spell” Jim sighed “We’re not ready. There’s too much risk”

The costumer came up to the register and Y/n had to put her phone down.

“We’ll figured it out, Jim” she said before hanging up.

After the last buyer left, she was finally free. Outside the sun was setting. The sky was a beautiful pink shade. Around this time, the people of Arcadia are already home or on their way, leaving the streets almost empty.

She put the store keys on her bag and stretched her arms, her elbow cracked after holding the phone for so long.

Y/n crossed the street. It’s been three days since she started avoided walking by the library were Douxie worked. She has spent a lot of time with Douxie lately and she was afraid that she was smothering him. Of course, all she wanted was to keep the routine they had the last couple of weeks: go to the library, scratch Archie’s head and hang out with Douxie until his shift at Benoit started and then go home but she was scared it was too much. What if she was too much? Maybe she should give him some space and focus on her training for a while.

Y/n lifted her eyes from the floor to see if the stoplight had changed and saw them. Douxie and the pink haired girl that worked at HexTech, Zoe, they were just a couple steps away from her. Y/n started to get close go them to say hi when he heard him:

“I don’t know how to tell her! I mean, I don’t want to be rude”

“It’s not rude to set a boundary” Zoe replied. She seemed annoyed “If she’s annoying tell her to stop”

“But she has been so nice. I don’t know, Zoe” he scratched his head.

Y/n felt the blood rush to her ears. It couldn’t be.

“Listen, I already told you this last week. Talk to her”

The stoplight shifted and everyone keep walking but Y/n just stood there, watching them leave.

Y/n’s soul had fallen to her knees. She felt her blood stopping in place, her eyes filling up with tears. She felt light-headed. Her heart was broken. She had smothered him and he was too kind to tell her.

A thunder erupted making them stop. The cold rain started to fall. Everyone rushed to get protection except Y/n that stood there, watching the spot where Douxie had told Zoe he didn’t want her

“Are you okay, kid?” An old man holding an umbrella stopped next to her.

“Yes” she sighed. Her eyes wouldn’t leave the now empty spot.

“Let me help you cross the road” the man offered.

She nodded.

The man grabbed her arm and guide her across the street, stopping under the roof of some store so she wouldn’t get more wet.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call anyone?” He put his hand on her shoulder

Y/n lifted her eyes from the floor and looked into the man’s pale blue eyes. He was much taller than her.

“No, but thank you for your kindness” she smiled.

The man smiled back.

“You remind me of my kid. Head always in the clouds” he laughed and left her under the roof.

Y/n got home and went directly to the bathroom. She dropped the wet clothes on the floor and sat in the shower. The hot water melted the sadness off her skin. Her mind was numb. No thought went through her head, just the water hitting her back. She waited for the tears to fall but they never did. Eventually, she gave up and stood up.

When Y/n got out of the shower she stepped on something hard. She lifted her foot and saw her pebble, the pebble that she thought was on her bag.

“Maybe Al dropped it here” she thought, taking the pebble to her chest.

Y/n dragged her feet to her bedroom. Her body didn’t have energy, every single bit of it left through the drain.

Eventually, she dressed up and threw herself into the bed. In the darkness, she felt something or someone stepping on her mattress but she couldn’t care. The void had swallowed her.

“What happened?” Al stood next to her head.

Y/n sighed in response.

“Doesn’t matter” he said as he curled himself next to her neck “Tomorrow is another day” he licked the single tear that had fallen from her cheek.

—

Y/n opened her eyes, she wasn’t in her room anymore, she was in the woods, the woods that she’s been dreaming all her life.

“Welcome back to the land of the living”

Y/n stretched her arm trying to feel her comforter but she wasn’t in her bed, she was laying on top of a bed of leaves. She turned to look for Al and saw him sleeping next to her feet.

“Do you feel better?” Asked the woman to her right. A shadow was blocking her face but Y/n’s recognised her anyway “A bed made of leaves is no place for a lady like you to sleep”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she could only focus on the woman’s warm hand brushing the leaves away from her hair.

“Everyone is worried about you, Y/n. You can’t keep running to the woods like this”

“That’s not true” Y/n sat up.

“Oh, Y/n of course it is”

“Hisirdoux is not. He told me himself” Y/n crossed her arms.

The woman chuckled, “He is worried the most. Your father had to stop him from running to the wood to look for you!”

Y/n imaged Hisirdoux pout when he was told he couldn’t do something and smiled.

“Look at that smiled” the women tickled Y/n side “You like him”

“I do not” Y/n blushed.

“Young love is so sweet” The women chuckled and pinched the little girl’s cheeks “There is no crime in liking the errand boy”

“Stop it” Y/n’s cheeks darken further.

“I will not until you admit it” the women try to tickle the confession out of Y/n.

“Stop” she laughed.

—

Y/n lay there in her bed for what felt months yet also felt hours. Her phone stacking with messages yet she wouldn’t answer, she couldn’t even see them in case one of them was Douxie’s.

She heard the news of the destruction of the Inferna Copula in the brief time she met with Jim by the door of the bathroom. He had stopped his rambling when he saw his sister’s lack of response but that didn’t stop him from trying to get a reaction out of her.

One morning, Jim opened the door, his armor on.

“Y/n wake up! I need your help” he shook his sister awake.

“What?” She turned to him.

“Strickler is down stairs hiding from Angor Rot”

“Is this another attempt of getting me out of bed? I told you I am sick” she turned to the wall.

“No, no. Come with me” Jim grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the kitchen.

“Slow down, Jim” the boy had gotten stronger with his training and was almost dragging his sister down the stairs “Why do you have a smelly sock?” Y/n cringed when the smell got to her.

In the kitchen, Strickler was strapped to a chair, sleeping.

“Really?” She rolled her eyes at the view.

“He said Angor Rot was trying to kill him but nothing happened”

Y/n sighed. She didn’t have the patience to deal with the changeling. She took the sock from Jim and dangled in front of his face.

“Ugh! What is that?” Strickler jumped after smelling the rotten sock.

“Wakey, wakey. We survived the night with no sign of Angor Rot. Congratulations” Jim stepped in front of the changeling and took back the sock from his sister’s hand “We thought we’d bring you some breakfast” The boy threw the sock in his face.

“I don’t eat socks” Strickler scoffed “And I don’t appreciate being tied up”

“Cry me a river” Y/n crossed her arms.

“I asked you to protect me not torture me”

“And I said I’d keep you safe, not comfortable” with his sword, Jim cut the rope that was tied to Strickler’s wrists.

“Well, the sun is up. We’ll have until sundown to get me as far away as possible” Strickler rubbed his wrist as he looked through the window.

“Fine. Let me call the team” Jim grabbed the walkie-talkie from the counter.

Y/n jumped onto the counter next to her brother.

“Trollhunter to Warhammer, you copy?”

“Oh, goodie. The puberty Patrol is on the case. I feel so safe” Strickler mocked.

Y/n rolled her eyes and stuck her leg up when Strickler started to get to close to Jim but he yanked Jim’s walkie-talkie away anyway.

“Do you think your friends will have any chance against that killer? They’ll be a liability” Jim grabbed the walkie-talkie back while Stickler talked “May I remind you, you destroyed Angor’s soul. He’ll be out for blood, be it yours or theirs”

Y/n took deep breaths, trying to control the anger that started to simmer in her stomach and not hit the changeling right in the face while Jim told his friend to look for information on the last stone.

“Smart choice. For once, you’re learning” Strickler grabbed the empty coffee pot.

“For the record, Angor Rot destroyed his own soul” Jim said giving his teacher the cereal box.

A/n: hiiii hellooo!! I didn’t forget about the update!! I just had the worst migraine in the world im sorry 💖

#tales of arcadia #douxie x reader #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #toa #trollhunters #my writing #til the end of eternity

[halfmoth-halfman]

So I just read the new chapter, beautful work with the afterlife of Canary and seeing her father Adler again. The flames, the rage, Canary finally being SICK of it---- I am ready for the rage. I also appreicated the way her father just said "you're fault, I may have been shit and like hiring the docotor whose wife I killed wasn't the best idea, but the shit you got yourself is all you" talk bc Canary did try, but now she has that "bitch better have my money", "Jawn" Wick, Alabama riverboat brawl, 'cuz I'll air this bitch out', 'fuck it, I'll do it myself', energy that I just love to see on women *chefs kiss*. And then the face shift from Adler to Makarov really did it for me, and miss girl still held her owwwnnnnnn. She not playin' with y'all no more Graves, Kira, Makarov, 141 + Price inlcuded and even Kate (idk what she'd do, but if Canary got beef, then we all got beef).

And then her choice to go back to the land of the living bc she ain't no punk ass bitch???? Water my crops and made me want to get on my Zoom since I ain't been in session since I graduated and told myself to only take a 2 week break max then get on these job applications. Waking up and already being sarcastic and witty with Rudy is such a change to what I would've imagined her waking up like (being more frazzled, and scared, etc.). And then having everyone in the room tired as hell, weeks taken off her life and whatnot--- THEN TO BE TOLD PRICE GOT ARRESTED BC HE MURDERED HER!!!! Kate better swoop in and do her job, Shepherd better do some white people and police offer shit to get Price out so Canary can dog him for what he put her through. Then I wanna see Canary with the nine from Jamal, I need her hands Rated E for Everyone as a testmant to her last name and who tf she is and always been.

Also, your story is the first story I ever been waiting on for the chapter drop like when people wait on Rihanna for an album. I was pacing, then was like 'why tf is she in PST????' with my EST ass. And I even watched the new Zoey 102 movie to pass time then have a friend on FT bc I was STRESSED. I read through that too fucking fast, and you legit give me the energy to write, I just don't know what to write or feel that spark really. I legit sat here refreshing this forsaken app like it was Twitter lmfaooooo

Lots of love

aaaaaaaa thank you so much!!! 💜

i'm also ready for canary's rage, and her deciding to really embody the adler name and get her money and estate back like the queen she is. adler and canary have a very complicated relationship, and a lot of it stems from her mother's death. i think adler knows that his wife's death falls like 98% on his shoulders, but has shifted blame to canary because it's easier for him to be mad at someone else even if it's his own daughter. he's always been a little harsher on her than he was with graves, but convinced himself that it was for her own benefit and to make her stronger in the world that he was raising her to be a part of and take over.

so, of course, when everything goes down with graves and canary waltzes into purgatory/limbo while graves has control over everything, adler is pissed, regardless of the circumstances leading to that outcome. to me, he has a very black and white view of canary's situation and thinks that if she wanted to, she could've found a way out or to get rid of graves when it's not that simple. for canary, it feels like just another thing he's blaming her for, and she's realizing that almost every man in her life - graves, makarov, adler, shepherd, even price - are all the same; they all see her as a tool to be used, a bargaining chip, and she's not having it anymore. canary really is out for blood now, but whether or not the 141 is going to be included in that is undecided.

i don't think there was any other choice for her than to go back. like wanting to continue the story aside, adler was right when he figured she wouldn't be able to live with herself letting graves win, and canary knew that. sure, if she'd stayed she would get to see her mother and not have to worry about makarov or price or anyone else, but letting graves get away with no consequences after everything he's done to her? absolutely not.

i think she is a bit frazzled, but also more resolute after talking with her father. she knows what needs to be done, she knows she's going to need the 141 to do it, but she also knows she doesn't have to be happy and nice about it either. cordial, yes, but she's not going to forget what they accused her of anytime soon.

who knows what shepherd is going to do with price, but i can absolutely tell you canary's hands are rated e for everyone 24/7 365. she is out for blood, and she doesn't intend on taking any prisoners.

"refreshing this forsaken app like it was Twitter" LMAOOOOO i'm so glad that you're enjoying this fic that much omg, i love reading through everyone's thoughts about where the story's going to go. honestly, you guys give me a lot of inspiration to write these chapters, esp after the 12k one because ngl that chapter was kinda draining for me to write, but y'all made it worth it! 💜

#chrisemi #moth answers #answered #cod ask #private

[the-lonelybarricade]

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in...

Summary: It's Feyre's first year as an elligible maiden for the village reaping. In order to escape the chance of being chosen, Feyre rushes into a marriage with Lord Tamlin. She is terrified on her wedding night, but foruntately she is spared from consumating her marriage when she is pulled into a strange, erotic dream with an enchanting creature.

CW: Dubious Consent, Dark Fantasy, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink, Overstimulation, Monster/Demon Sex, forced marriages, sacrificial ceremonies. Just complete and utterly depraved filth, please proceed at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,356

Read on AO3

⟡⟡⟡

The annual reaping was coming.

It was a day that plagued the women of their village. Each year, a virginal woman was sacrificed in an effort to appease the demon that prowled their lands. At least, he was believed to be a demon. No one had ever seen the creature that was said to walk their nightmares, and no woman who had ever been tied to the altar in the woods had survived to tell the tale. They were always gone the next morning, no sign that they had ever been there to begin with.

Demon, or god, or anywhere in between, he haunted the women of the village all the same. Mothers typically spent the month fretting over their weddable daughters, desperate to see them married before they were offered up to never be seen again.

And the human men—they were hardly any better than the demon they claimed to protect against. They were fully aware of the control it offered them in the month of the reaping. How young girls became desperate to wed and some of them, desperate enough to fornicate with the first man who promised to marry them down the line. Only for those same women to be scorned by society when the men failed to fulfill their end of the bargain, as if it were the fault of women for being backed into the corner of marriage or monster. Sometimes they were one and the same.

It was why on the eve of the reaping, Feyre stood in a monstrosity of layered tulle, staring at her sisters through the lace of her veil, swallowing back tears. She had not wanted to marry Lord Tamlin. But it was her first year as a maiden eligible for the reaping, and he had only proposed a week before. They’d both known that no one else would offer their hand, not after Nesta had refused to marry and taken matters into her own hands the year she’d turned eighteen. 

With Elain, it hadn’t been an issue. Her poise and beauty encouraged suitors to overlook her eldest sisters’ scorned status. But Feyre was too much of a wildcard. She was not kind, or gentle, like Elain, and would not make an obedient wife. Tamlin seemed to have an interest in challenging that notion, and Feyre had been terrified enough to say yes. 

“Try not to cry,” Nesta whispered, squeezing her hand. “If he loves you as he claims—” they all knew he didn’t—”he will make sure you enjoy it… But if you do not, try to close your eyes and think of somewhere pleasant.”

It was a moment that every woman in their village simultaneously longed for and dreaded. To be free of the demon, but given to a man. If a lady was lucky, her husband was kind and would make the experience pleasant.

Feyre had heard enough stories to know that very few ladies had ever been so lucky. And how could they be? When husbands acted as though they were doing their wives a favor by taking their maidenheads. Even if they were cruel, at least they weren’t a demon.

Sometimes she wondered if the demon wasn’t preferable.

“Come visit,” she begged through her tears, certain she would be miserable at her new husband's manor.

They bid each other farewell with tight, sniffling hugs. Nesta had to practically pry Feyre’s arms away. Which was not a difficult task, shaking as she was. Fear and duty alone placed one foot in front of the other to meet her new, frowning husband at the carriage.

Silence screamed into the space between them for the entire ride to the inn, only exacerbating Feyre’s nerves. She bounced her leg, entirely unladylike, as she stared out the carriage window at the passing houses. 

She wondered what her new life would look like. Was this silence merely the result of two people who were not familiar with each other, or would it be a characteristic of their marriage? A husband who was uninterested in his wife until she was in his bed… she shuddered at just the thought of it.

But perhaps… perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have an apathetic husband. It was better than a controlling or domineering one. He might give her the freedom to paint and visit her sisters. It was not exactly the life she imagined, but she could make the most of it so long as he wasn’t cruel.

The carriage lurched to a stop outside the inn, and her stomach jolted right with it. The color must have drained from her face, by the way Tamlin pressed his lips together disapprovingly. It was either that, or her shaking hand as she stepped out of the carriage, that gave her away. She felt more as though she were walking to the gallows than her marital bed.

Try not to cry, Nesta had instructed.

It should have been an easy task, given how infrequently Feyre had cried in her life. She’d hardly shed a tear at her own mother’s funeral, when she and her sisters had been too poor to even afford a grave digger. The three of them had been made to dig the hole themselves, as their father watched with hollow eyes from their cottage. Theirs had been a circumstantial marriage to avoid the reaping, too.

Feyre tried not to cry when Tamlin carried her into the bedroom and lowered her onto the bed. But her lip did begin to wobble as he removed her stockings and pushed her wedding dress up her hips and over her head.

And when he stood up to untie the laces of his trousers, a tear spilled down her cheek at the sight of the erection that sprang free. He had not prepared her in any way, and he was large enough that she was certain it was going to be painful.

Still, she laid back as her husband crawled over her splayed body, ducking his face into her neck to lay kisses over her trembling skin. It was all Feyre could do to turn her head into the pillow, away from the sight of him. She whimpered as she felt his swollen head prod her inner thigh, and Tamlin growled as though it were encouragement. 

Somewhere pleasant, Nesta had instructed. 

She thought of the night sky.

For just a moment, she swore a moon-kissed breeze brushed against her cheek. And a voice whispered in the back of her mind, soft as velvet, Do you want me to take this away?

Yes, she had thought. Must have said it out loud, by the way Tamlin grunted in response. Please.

All at once, the bedroom, the mattress, the tear-stained pillow, and the man panting above her dissolved into the calm and weightless night. Feyre was floating, hovering among the endless expanse of stars as though she were one, too. There was nothing here, save for the ivory moonlight and aimless clouds.

Feyre took a gasping breath, letting the fresh air rush into her lungs. The cold was a silken blanket as it pressed into her splotched face, quelling her tears and the flush on her chest.

That same honeyed voice tutted softly, flooded with affection as it crooned to her, Mortal men are terrible creatures.

I’m his wife, Feyre found herself saying, though she could not see who she was speaking to. He is consummating our marriage.

A wife should not be made to suffer her husband’s pleasure, glided his response. Feyre searched for the source of that voice, but it was nestled somewhere in the lucent mist. It sounded as if it came from both everywhere and nowhere, intimately settling into the quiet of her mind.

Should I show you? 

If Feyre shut her eyes, she thought she could almost feel someone at her back, whispering into her skin.

That pleasure that you are missing in your husband’s touch?

No, Feyre said, and yet she tipped her head back into that strange phantom presence, swearing she could feel the night itself caress her from behind. I have saved myself for my husband. I am a faithful wife.

He has not saved himself for you, the darkness reasoned, folding itself around her. Feyre shivered as satin night brushed along her collarbone. And I am not truly here. Does adultery extend to your dreams?

A dream. Of course that’s what this was. A soothing machination of her subconscious, to comfort her as her husband did what was necessary to save her from the reaping. And it was comforting, the tender caress that glided over her skin.

A gasp tore, unbidden, from her lips as that touch moved, slow like dripping syrup, through the valley of her exposed breasts, past her naval, and down toward her hips.

How do I know it won’t hurt? She whispered, remembering that Tamlin had promised her the same.

Because I seek nothing more than your pleasure, he answered. Those were fingers, light and soft as they were, that brushed reverently through the patch of curls between her thighs. Feyre had wanted to die when her husband had touched her there, before urgently parting her legs. This was gentle, coaxing, and she fell into it with a soft sigh. 

Petal-soft lips brushed over her neck. That voice hummed low in approval, There you are. Give in to it, sweet thing. Let me touch you the way you deserve.

His fingers dipped lower and Feyre tensed, waiting for that intrusion, but they didn’t go any further than the delicate bud that her husband had altogether ignored.

Yes. The word slipped out before her rational mind could protest it, and as his fingers began moving in persuasive, wonderful circles, Feyre found her sensibilities slip away all together.

Look at the way you open for me, he whispered, delight clear in his voice. Feyre.

Something hot and wet slithered over her neck. A tongue, she realized, turning her head to catch a glimpse of the mouth it belonged to.

Dark, raven blue hair fell into the face of what could have been a man, if not for the whorls of glittering night that merged with and drifted from his golden brown skin like it were smoke, blending seamlessly into the sky surrounding them. Large, dark wings—so dark they had escaped her notice entirely until she caught the glint of their horned peaks—draped lazily behind his shoulders. And his eyes, the stars that lived inside that pair of glittering amethysts, there was no mortal man who would ever have eyes like that.

Beautiful. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

What are you? She asked, with none of the disgust that would have been appropriate from a virginal woman being seduced by a creature of the night.

Yours, he answered, his other hand sliding up to gently grip her chin. He pulled her mouth towards his, ducking so she may taste his lips. Tonight, I am only yours.

Kissing him was nothing like kissing Tamlin. Feyre could not fathom why, for they were equally strangers, and yet she felt drunk on his lips. There was something about him that her body welcomed, that she could not get enough of, an enchantment of some kind that had her twisting in his arms, so she could drape herself over him.

Facing him allowed her the glimpse of his bare chest—taut, golden skin marbled with star-swept onyx. His was a chiseled form that sculptors would spend their lifespans trying to create, and Feyre was certain he was the sort of being that could exist only in art. The ethereal glow to him spoke of something angelic. Or demonic. 

He smiled, sinful enough to confirm which dominion he hailed.

She should have been afraid as his wings swept around them, cocooning her in the comfort of darkness. Feyre only regretted it was too dark to admire his smile, charming despite its wickedness. 

As her hands traveled over his warm, rigid skin, she suspected he’d obscured her vision intentionally. Her eyes had not yet crept below his waist, but as she pressed her naked body closer, she could feel the large cock that pressed into her stomach. Feyre did not need her eyes to sense it was far more intimidating in size than Tamlin’s. 

The creature sought her lips once more—intending to distract her, she was certain. And it worked, for the way she twined an arm around his neck and opened her mouth to his seeking tongue.

What do I call you? It was more of a plea than she would like to admit, finding herself desperate to shape his name on her tongue.

Yours, he said again, mouth turning feverish. As though he wished to devour her. That is all I am.

Feyre found she didn’t care enough to press the issue, not as her other hand slid down the slant of his hips and came to a patch of coarse hair, long enough to curl her fingers into. She dared to go lower, until she found the thick base of his cock.

He had gone stiff. From the shadow of his wings, it was too dark for her human eyes to see, but Feyre knew he was watching her intently as she wrapped her hands around his thick base. It was silken to the touch, much like Tamlin’s, but not smooth. As her hand stroked curiously up the lightly curved shaft, she noted ridges lay along the veined underside. When she brushed her thumb along them, a low sound rumbled through his chest.

Sweet creature, he chided, reaching to grasp her wrist, tonight is not about my pleasure.

But there was a promise to his voice that such a night would come. She shivered, and not from fear.

Something cold slinked around her ankles and coiled up her legs. Feyre glanced down, lips parting open. Even in the darkness, the inky tendrils of night were stark against her creamy thighs as they slithered up, up, up.

A firm, onyx hand pried her face back towards him, something like jealousy sparking in his violet eyes, as though he couldn’t stand to have her attention diverted from him for even a second. Plush lips crashed against hers, his tongue as demanding as the tendrils that snaked along her inner thigh.

He swallowed each of her shallow, panting breaths. It was an effort to reign in her focus, lost between the heat of his mouth and the velvet night that curled ever-closer to her aching center. The want that speared through her was a glowing iron against her chest. She knew if there were any light, it would fall over a deep, rosy flush on her skin. But she found she did not mind the dark that concealed it. It felt safe, intimate.

A shadow lapped teasingly at the seam of her thigh and the creature raised his head, blowing out a breath that she interpreted as surprise. It was followed by a dark, sensuous laugh that pooled in her stomach like warm whiskey. 

Are you enjoying yourself? He asked, chasing the tendril with his hand so that it was his warm fingers skimming along her thighs. His smile was pure, predatory delight at the slickness he found there.

She clenched her thighs on reflex, a final attempt of her rational mind to remind Feyre she should be rejecting his touch. He tutted disapprovingly and the darkness tightened its hold to keep her thighs parted for him as slowly, torturously, he glided his fingers upwards. Straight through her drenched center.

Air rushed through her teeth as her body seemed to sing in relief at finally being touched where she needed him.

So wet, he said, taking a deep inhale. His bare chest rose against her own. Where was all this when it was your husband touching you, hmm?

Shame. It should have been shame that colored her cheeks as he ducked to taste her throat, instead of the moan that tumbled past her lips. She could feel her pulse fluttering beneath his tongue, almost in tandem to the thumb that he flicked playfully against her clit.

Perhaps I should take his place? He crooned. You could be my lovely little wife.

I am already married, she protested. As if it were the only thing stopping her. It was some kind of sorcery he was using, to subdue her inhibitions. Feyre could think of no other reason she would be sliding her hands into his inky hair.

Oh, she gasped, startled to find twin pairs of horns, so dark they had blended right in with his hair.

The white of his teeth flashed in their enclosed space. Something for you to hold onto.

Feyre’s brows merged. Why would I need to—

The shadows that were twined around her legs hoisted her up with such abruptness that she shrieked, scrambling to grasp at his horns for balance. He laughed beneath her, his breath a warm puff against her breasts where they now fell level with his face.

Just as well that she was holding on, for the way she arched her back when his hot mouth descended on her peaked nipple. Her knuckles turned white where she gripped his horns, and she wondered if he had any sensation in them. From the way his mouth continued to ravish her breast, she doubted he was in any pain.

More, she found herself thinking, pulling on his horns in an attempt to tug him closer—as if there was any space left for him to go. She felt frenzied as his tongue laid a path along her chest, up towards her collarbone, his hands coming up to replace his lips at her breasts. The rough scrape of calluses, or something else—scales, perhaps—against her sensitive flesh elicited a broken groan. Pain and pleasure mingled into an intoxicating mixture of sensation that had her grinding against his hard stomach.

Again, he gave that scraping laugh, this time into her neck as he dragged his teeth along her skin. She shivered, goosebumps sprouting all the way down to her toes.

A sudden, whispered touch snaked up towards the apex of her thighs. Feyre started and the creature hissed as Feyre yanked his horns hard, ripping his mouth away from her throat. She hadn’t expected to be touched down there, not with his hands still covering her breasts.

You asked for more, he said impatiently, returning his teeth to her pulsepoint. I happen to have many means of pleasing you, wife. Not an inch of you should be neglected.

The darkness that had curled towards her glistening cunt was firmer now, applying a gentle pressure to her clit that had Feyre relaxing into his hold, throwing her head back as she focused on the building friction.

That’s it, he purred. Let me worship you.

And she was content to let him, melting into his every touch as he explored her with mouth and hands and shadow. The hot sweep of his tongue made her wonder what it would feel like between her legs, if it would feel entirely different to the lazy tendril of night that stroked just slow enough to drive her crazy. She knew he was doing it intentionally, by the way she felt him smile against her shoulder when she started bucking her hips, her silent way of pleading.

More, she begged. Please.

What do you want? He crooned with a tone that implied he was being generous for even asking. But Feyre… Feyre didn’t know. She just knew it wasn’t enough. That she was aching, and the darkness didn’t offer the relief her body craved.

Sweet wife. Do you want me to show you what you need? 

If she reminded him that she was not his wife, she was certain he wouldn’t show her at all. And Feyre was certain if he stopped now, this feverish desire would consume her until she was driven mad. So she only nodded her head obediently.

He rewarded her with shades of night that dipped lower, prodding curiously at her entrance. It was obscene, the way she could hear how wet she was as the darkness pushed through her folds. She held her breath as one of them slid inside, eased in by the way she reflexively clenched around it. Feyre had never had anything inside her, and she was so surprised by the pleasure that scraped against her walls that she could do nothing to stop the lewd moan that clawed out of her throat.

The shadow inside her seemed to expand at the sound, growing until she felt so full she was certain her vision began to blur. The other tendrils circled back up towards her clit, working in tandem with each other so that Feyre was overcome with sensation, blinded by indiscriminate ecstasy that came from both inside and outside of her body.

Feyre, the creature whispered, an admiration to his voice that made her feel powerful, drunk on indulgence.

She yielded to him fully, beginning to move against the thick shadow—crying out each time it entered and exited her body. His hands resumed their attention to her breasts, tweaking her nipples so that he could catch her whimpers with his own lips. As if he could devour the sound.

Pleasure was building in her spine, uncontrollable. Something coiled in her chest, so tight it hurt. Her breathing turned ragged, fingers slipping past his horns to claw at strands of his hair, just so that he could feel an inkling of the sharp sensation ratcheting through her spine with each slow, deep stroke. Her muscles were shaking, and though his lips smothered her gasps they still seeped out of her in broken, short-winded whimpers.

She felt her muscles spasm, her body already arching into the release, when the shadow was abruptly yanked out of her and her cunt clenched around agonizing emptiness.

W-Wha? She cried, digging her nails into his scalp. She bucked her hips towards him, grinding into the air. Begging him to continue. No! Please, please don’t stop.

You want to come? He asked with a mocking smile, licking into her mouth. My sweet, pure wife wants me to defile her? Ask me nicely, and I’ll give you something to come on.

Feyre grit her teeth, defiance rearing to the surface. She’d begged him enough, given her body willingly. If he was going to be smug about it, then she refused to give him the satisfaction. She’d just take what she wanted, for a change.

The shadows twined around her legs restricted a fair amount of motion, but she was still able to grind her hips against the shadows there were tormenting her clit.

A growl rumbled through his chest as Feyre’s mouth fell open in pleasure. His hands dropped from her breasts, but otherwise he didn’t stop her from working herself against his dark tendrils, letting that delicious pressure build and build.

The beginnings of a moan crested in her throat, just like the tension that was climbing to its peak. And just as she was about to reach that final release, the touch was once again yanked away.

Feyre screamed—a mix of surprise and pain and mind-numbing pleasure as the shadow was pulled away and in its place she was sheathed onto the creature’s massive cock in a single thrust. Her cunt clenched painfully around him as her vision turned white. Every muscle in her body tensed, before releasing in a tremor of euphoria that wrecked through her body, sending her shuddering against him as every thought eddied into static fuzz.

There you are, he cooed. Such a good wife, coming on my cock. Exactly where you belong.

Feyre didn’t think she was capable of speaking. She was pulled closer, laid against his broad chest as she struggled to regain her senses. Her pulse was roaring, so loud she could have been convinced she was truly hearing battle drums.

Breathe, he instructed, a gentle hand stroking back her hair.

She couldn’t—couldn’t think, couldn’t breath around this strange sense of fullness. So much more intrusive than the shadows. Everytime she tried to ground herself, to connect with any of her five senses, she was only led back to him. Taste, touch, smell, he consumed it all.

Stretched so nicely for me, he praised, leaning down to press a kiss to her damp forehead. Does it feel good, being this full?

Yes, she thought. But there was no room to accommodate him. Every time she breathed it felt like she was tightening around him, and she dreaded to think of him thrusting into her like his shadows had.

Shh, he said, though Feyre was certain she had been silent. Speaking would require an effort she didn’t think she could manage. Don’t worry, sweet one. All you have to do is keep me warm while I give you something to come on.

The way he held her, arms bundled tightly around her shoulders, seemed so at odds to the way she was speared on his cock. But he made no indication that he planned to move, content to let her rest against his bare chest and pant into his skin. He even hummed as he stroked his fingers soothingly through her hair, like she was a child being rocked to sleep. This razor-tipped bliss—she could have been lost forever to it. Days could have passed and she wouldn’t have known. 

Until the shadows returned, creeping up her thighs. She whimpered as they reached her clit, still sensitive from his earlier ministrations. The feather-light touches were knives of pleasure, stabbing through her with every teasing touch. And every movement, no matter how subtle, caused her to clench hard around him, sending her breath sputtering in her lungs.

One more, pretty thing, he insisted as his shadows became more ruthless in playing with her swollen nub. Just give me one more.

Feyre shook her head, but the shadows continued, far more insistent than they’d been before. Before he had been dragging out her release, taunting her. Now he pushed her towards it, cooing and shushing her cries all the while.

One more, and then this sweet cunt will be ready for me, he whispered, pressing kisses to the crown of her head. 

She was sobbing against him—pain and pleasure coalescing, blurring just as much as her vision as tears welled in her eyes. It was too much, and every effort to squirm away had her moving with delicious agony against his cock.

So close, he cooed. Just hold on a little longer for me, wife.

Please, she cried, pressing her teary face into his chest. Please.

I know, sweet thing, I know, he said, voice bathed with pity even as his tendrils increased their pace. Sing for me.

And she did. If the broken shriek that fled her lips could be described as singing. Even he grunted at the vice grip her body created around him.

Before Feyre had a chance to come down from her merciless high, his cock slipped out of her. And rammed back in with a force that had her choking on air.

My pretty wife, he grunted, with another brutal thrust. Your cunt fits me perfectly.

She didn’t necessarily agree. No one could fit him perfectly—no human, at least. And still as her nails scrambled against his granite chest, and all the air in her lungs escaped in the form of desperate, pleading wails, some depraved part of herself was still begging for more.

A stray shadow chased away one of her tears. You’re doing so good. Taking me so well.

Regardless of how wet she was, how it flooded down her thighs and continued to still, she felt each drag of his cock as its ridges scraped along every excruciatingly sensitive nerve. She gasped as his savage thrusts punched the air out of her lungs. Yet, she felt the pleasure building, felt it overriding the pain until she was meeting him thrust for thrust. 

Let me fill you up, he gasped. Let me take you as my wife. Keep you bred full with my children.

Suddenly his mouth was on hers, hardly a kiss by the way each ragged breath of air was ripped from their lungs, colliding in the space between their lips.

Say yes, he begged.

Feyre shut her eyes, clinging to him like her life depended on it. Yes.

Then he was roaring, loud enough to shake mountains, to rouse every person in the waking realm. A sharp, unfamiliar tang twisted in the air, and the strange tingling sensation on her arm was lost entirely to the wave upon wave of rapture that crashed over them both.

Something spilled into her, so much that it seeped out of where they joined and dripped down her legs.

He gave her a sweet, gentle kiss. Until we meet again, my wife.

She woke to a pair of jade eyes, hovering over hers as a warm hand pressed into her dampened forehead.

The tension in Tamlin’s brow relaxed when he saw that she was awake. “I was truly beginning to worry,” he admitted, loosing a heavy breath. “I have heard that the first night can be overwhelming, but I did not realize it was to such an extent that a wife could faint upon seeing her husband naked.”

He was not naked anymore, she noticed. A loose tunic had been thrown over his chest, and there were trousers covering the muscular legs that perched on the edge of the bed.

“It is my fault,” he said charitably, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “My innocent Feyre, I should have prepared you better for what you would see. 

Questions swam through her mind. She had… fainted? It must have been a fever dream, brought on by her terror, then. And did that mean that she and her husband, they hadn’t…?

“You needn’t worry,” he went on. “Now that we are married, your name will be removed from the reaping on the assumption that we have consummated. And we can wait to take that step until you feel more comfortable.”

She nodded numbly, still struggling to come to terms with the images that had come to her in sleep. A manifestation of her fears, surely. And the violet-eyed creature some warped configuration of her husband—who seemed kind, afterall.

Tamlin pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I have rented an additional room, to give you space to rest,” he said, standing up from the bed. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow is always a harrowing day.”

Her husband departed, taking the candlelight at her bedside with him. And Feyre was left to the dark, feeling a strange sense of comfort as it pressed in closer. She turned onto her side, mind reeling to think that her virginity had been maintained on her wedding night, and still she would not be eligible for the reaping.

Except… 

Feyre felt something wet between her thighs, and when she sent a curious hand to inspect it, her fingers came away with a sticky, white substance that she was certain hadn’t come from her. Had Tamlin lied, and took advantage of her unconscious state?

Or…

No. The creature had been nothing but a figment of her own mind. Perhaps it had been her body’s own awareness of what her husband had been truly doing while she slept. Somehow, that was less alarming a thing to accept.

But when the morning sun washed through the inn’s large window, it brought with it the truth. For when Feyre sat up and moved her arm to push a lock of hair out of her face, she was met with black, inked skin. Whorls of darkness, crawling from her elbow to fingertip.

On the morning of the reaping, a maiden was usually chosen by drawing from the names of those eligible. On rare occasions—so rare Feyre had only ever heard the whispered story of when it last happened—the demon would choose the maiden himself. Mark her, with the very ink that stained her hand.

Her stomach sunk in time with the realization that her nighttime visitor had been more than a dream. That when he spoke of marriage and children and stealing her away, they had not been empty promises. A consequence of her dull, unfaithful heart.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Feyre’s heart raced as she thought of how to hide the markings. If no one else saw them, the reaping would simply proceed as normal, she reationalized, rushing to the wardrobe to shrug on a long-sleeved dressing gown, just as the door clicked open.

“Goodmorning, Feyre,” Tamlin said, a gravity to his expression that was only ever preserved for this day. He frowned at the sight of her, still in her night clothes. “We’ll be leaving soon for the reaping. You should hurry and get dressed.”

Feyre swallowed, silently nodding her head.

“What’s that?” Tamlin asked with a frown, pointing to the sleeve of her dressing gown.

She followed his gaze, dread curling in her stomach when she saw that the ink had begun to shimmer—a dark glow that seeped straight through the thin fabric. Words clogged in her throat, and she looked to her husband pleadingly as she sought explanation. There was none.

Tamlin covered the distance between them in two single strides, reaching urgently for the arm that marked her as belonging not just to another man, but a creature of unequaled cruelty. His face went ashen as he rolled up her sleeve, studying the blue-black markings.

Those jade eyes turned a dull color, and she watched a lump glide through his throat as he swallowed thickly.

“Forgive me,” he said, sounding grief stricken. “I made a foolish decision to not continue last night. My sweet virgin wife—” his voice broke on the final word. “He must have seen how… how it startled you, and decided to take you for himself.”

“We could run,” she found herself saying. “We would be pardoned from attending the reaping for our honeymoon, no one would have to know.”

Tamlin stayed silent, enough for Feyre’s heart to sink with the heavy truth he did not speak. He would not risk incurring the wrath of the creature who sought her, not for a wife he’d only known for a day.

She swallowed back her tears. “You would let him take me?”

“There is no stopping him,” he said, a coward’s response. “It would only be delaying the inevitable. And I hate to think of the way he would punish you, were you to elude him.”

A lie. A filthy, hateful lie. Feyre knew he only feared the way he would be punished for stealing the creature's property away. 

Tamlin watched her blink back tears, the pity on his face intolerable. If she had been with her sisters, they would have run away with her. She was certain of it.

“Come,” he said gravely. “If we move now, we can meet with the Lords and convince them to finish the proceedings in private.”

It was his peace offering, she knew. He could not protect her, but he could at least protect her sisters from the shame that was always brought to the chosen maiden’s family. As though the maiden had any say at all in the manner.

Feyre was incapable of speech, struck by a sorrow that knocked her to her knees as she thought of her sisters, and the grief they would bear in her absence. Tamlin gave a long suffering sigh, as though this were all terribly inconvenient to him, and lifted Feyre into his arms.

The cold of the stone crept straight through her thin nightgown, seeping into her bones where it pressed into her stomach, thighs, and cheek. Tamlin hadn’t seen fit to allow her to change into something better suited for the crisp autumn weather. She supposed there was no point, when she would not survive to see night fall.

Feyre wasn’t sure if it was customary to tie the women down on their stomachs, or if her husband had done it out of shame, so he would not have to look at her tear-stained face while he secured her to the cool slab in the middle of the woods and left her for dead.

She supposed it had been a kindness that it was Tamlin who tied her into such a compromising position, and not one of the cruel Lords. A kindness, as well, that they indulged Tamlin’s request to hold the ceremony in private. There would be no reaping this year, for the maiden had already been chosen.

Tamlin would continue to their estate and would eventually claim she died in childbirth to save everyone from the shame. Of course, there would be people who suspected the truth, her sisters especially, but a small part of Feyre hoped they believed the lies. Not out of pride, or shame, but from the fear that they would come looking for her. And what they might find, if they did.

“My pretty wife,” a familiar voice said from behind. It settled over her skin like she was standing before a hearth, warming her against the cold stone.

Feyre knew immediately who he was. There would be no one else in these woods today. And now she had a name for that beautiful face she had seen in her sleep. A name the people of her village were too afraid to speak out loud, lest they summon him. But he was already here, trailing his hand down her spine.

She could not see hi where she was held against the stone, but she knew from the way her body shivered in response to his touch that it was the very same creature she had met the night prior.

“Rhysand,” she whispered.

The heat of his body fell over her. His breath tickled her neck as he leaned in close. “I told you we would meet again.”

#I can't in good conscience use my taglist for this 😂 #Feysand #feysand fic #feyre x rhys #rhys x feyre #feyre x rhysand #Feysand smut #feysand fanfiction #feysand fanfic #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction

[mylordshesacactus]

The Feathered Serpent Part III

Or: In Which The Gang Gets Negged By A Primordial Arch-Snake From Before The Dawn Of Time.

The first to step forward, swallowing her fear and stumbling into the unknown, is, of course, our paladin Andromeda. She asks her question, opens her mouth to follow it up, and--

Time stops.

The entire five-part set of negotiations goes by in the span of half a second, the entire party bound in a telepathic circle--witnessing, but unable to interfere, as each must decide for themselves.

And damn, though: The Feathered Serpent is not cruel by nature--too ancient for it, she's above such things--but they're not here to hold back, either. She challenges each of the party in turn, laying out her offer, sometimes encouraging them to look at it with new eyes and sometimes just goading them to see what they do with it.

The sacrifice she asks of them is not small. It's the traditional price; a warlock pact. A lifetime in her service, acting as her eyes, gathering information and rare magics and ancient artifacts, in exchange for the full and complete answer to a question important enough to be worth it. The knowledge they seek is too dangerous to handle carelessly. It's not cruelty--there is no retribution for stepping away, deciding that the price she asks is too high. But once the bargain is made it cannot be unmade. She's making sure they enter this agreement of their own free will.

In order, the Feathered Serpent's offers to the party.

Andromeda (Paladin)

Question: Does the Faerie Queen have a weakness we can use to kill her?

Hail indeed, I see; Pelor sends his most beloved. But is that love enough, daughter of the sun? Perhaps the third time will be the charm after all—you who have power and purpose but nothing to do with them. Or when the rift heals and the curtain falls on a world saved, will you be left exactly in the place you started? Shall I grant wisdom where it will not be used? I do not let go what I have won so lightly, even for the fire of the sun itself. Give me a reason.

Andromeda agonizes for a timeless moment; she has no objection to helping the Feathered Serpent as long as the missions aren't hurting innocents, but while they remind her that their many eyes are precious resources and driving them to rebellion and thus death is senseless as it means they lose those agents, they will not make this easier by giving her any assurance that she will be able to just refuse requests without consequence or allowed to prioritize Pelor's will over the Serpent's--that isn't how this works.

While Andromeda wrestles with her loyalties, in the same moment-outside-time:

Farrah (Fighter)

Question: Is there anything we can give the faerie queen as a bribe in exchange for the spellbound dominion?

No. Try again.

Farrah (Fighter), Take II

Question: Is there anything within our means that could get the Winter Court to invade the Summer Court?

Child of two worlds, you interest me beyond your mother’s blood. A warrior who seeks to create; child of a legend who chooses anonymity; the half-devil plainspoken to a fault. What might you become, free to choose? What answers might you seek? What might you do with power?

Next: Our wizard.

Audie (Wizard)

Question: How to separate the planes and close the portals.

You hesitate. Why? What great plan, what purpose do you fear to lose, child? Are you not halfway mine already? Farm girl, archivist, second best always, the one left behind…you think me cruel to say it. Child, you will know venom when I mean for it to sting. You are a seeker without direction—and I who have ten thousand thousand eyes still cannot see all. Know all. I would make you ten thousand and first, grant you my mark and my teeth—and ask no service of you but the knowledge we both desire.

Nimbus (Ranger)

Question: How do we lure the Queen out of the Faewild? (This had been previously established as one of the possible ways of weakening the Summer Court and likely an essential part of any ability to distract or weaken the fae army and give any plan a better chance of succeeding.)

Do you tire of the silence, rootless one? If it was peace you sought, young hunter, you would not have left your home. And when this great purpose is resolved, what then? Shall you return to the house that strangles your breath in your chest? Turn soldier inside stone walls? Dragon-caves are the least of the secrets in your world. What purpose is served by a deepwoods path not followed? I would have you go where I cannot.

Max (Bard)

Question: Is there a way within our capacities to cause a civil war in the summer court and, if so, is it more likely to let us succeed in our mission than convincing the winter court to invade?

(He is cut off halfway through the word "and". The deal is one answer, not two, it doesn't become one question just because it's joined by a conjunction.)

Ah…the man who would not be spymaster. A born liar’s tongue is wasted on you…but it is yours to waste. Still. It is a poor bard with no regard for the power of a story. The words we use shape everything—in this world and in your own. What stories will live and die without ever being sung? What golden truths will be twisted and buried beneath mortal sewage, with none to speak on their behalf? Can you live with that, little fiddler? When a word from you now could give you the power to change it?

Also, you're not slick, I saw that second question coming. Bards.

#d&d #suncrest #the actual bargains will be their own post

[jasminegazer]

I was just thinking about the amazing girls and women that the Tmnt franchise has produced over the years. But then I realized how the younger generation doesn’t really have that in Tmnt mutant mayhem (yet we are still waiting on Tales of the Tmnt). So I thoughts of a plot-lines for my four favorites in the mutant mayhem series.

Venus de Milo/Mei Pieh chi: Venus was born alongside her siblings in a pet shop. But when someone tried to take them home, they tripped on the sidewalk and accidentally dropped the baby turtles into the sewer. When splinter found them, they had been living in the sewer for about a day and the ooze can had been dropped onto them just a few minutes before. As splinter was loading the coffee holder he used to transport them in Venus slipped away from his sight and into the depths of the sewer. There she was mutated into a baby alone in a cold sewer tunnel and as babies did when they were scared started crying. That’s when a little girl who was wandering nearby heard her and came to the rescue. That little girl was Lotus. She had been left in the care of Dr Rockwell while her mother, Big Mama, was busy with “important business attributes”. Lotus brought Vee to Rockwell who continued to use her for experimentation and even though he hated to admit it to take care of her. Eventually big mama whisked Venus away after banishing the doctor from New York. Venus continued to live under the “care” of Big Mama constantly trying to make deals to protect her from going into the battle nexus. (To be clear big mama did not like Venus one bit. She (as far as big mama knows) was the mutation of one of her arch enemies. She constantly reminded her that she was a mistake and abused her for making mistakes such as asking for food or calling Big mama her mom instead of her aunt.)One of these deals was to go on a scouting trip with her sister for TCRI trying to find the turtle brothers. But she was never told that was who they were looking for. Long story short Venus finds them before the foot and disses her responsibilities to hang with them. Eventually lotus finds out what Venus is doing and is not happy about it. Venus has an excess of chi in her. Chi is the life source that fills most yokai but very few have excess too it and even rarer few can make it visible like the fire Venus creates. Although this usually only come in outbursts of emotion she eventually learns how to control it.(But not until a while after she meets the boys and splinter)

Lotus: Lotus is the biological daughter of Big Mama. Though she was originally a mistake due to her mothers many affairs, she was raised to know that only perfection is except able. In her early life her mother ignored her and she would usually be dropped off at her “uncle” Dr Rockwell’s lab/home for months on end. That is how she met Venus and brought her to Dr Rockwell. When she and Ve were about 8 or 9 and 10 or 11 years old Big Mama had his lab burned to the ground and started to raise Lotus to be as ruthless and perfect as her. She also made deals with her mother (unbeknownst to Venus) to protect her little sister from being exterminated or put into the nexus permanently. When she found out that her mother was working with TCRI she offered her skills to help seeing this as a perfect opportunity for bargaining chips and leverage when making deals. Eventually her sister Venus found a way to persuade Big mama into letting her help too. After week or two of working with the foot and TCRI soldiers and Venus acting super strange she found out her sister ditched responsibility for hanging out and befriending the enemy (aka Leo Raph Donnie and Mikey).

Big Mama: Big Mama is a spider yokai called a jorogumo. Although these creatures appear as flawlessly beautiful women they possess the same strength and brutality as a tarantula and the ruthlessness and deadliness of a black widow. She started up her hotel for all yokai kind with its own battle arena known as the Nexus. She is known as 2nd deadliest crime boss only in comparison to the Shredder. Although she can be frivolous she is also manipulative and very strategic. Every move is thought through carefully based on how harmful it is only to her opponents. She even does the same thing to her own family. Dr Rockwell was one of her past fiancée’s brothers and worked with resources that were funded by her. But when she asked if for the warriors that he promised were being made for the nexus, failed to comply. He argued that these were living beings and still infants at the time whom he would not allow to go into her brutal war games. Enraged by this action against her name she had his laboratory burned with him and most of the embryo and infant mutants still inside. When her daughter Lotus started to fuss, Big Mama told her if she would stop her useless crying then she save Venus and let them both live. Big Mama spent the rest of her life from that day forward mastering her skill of bending people to her will by practicing on and manipulating her daughter and unwanted niece.

Lita May: During the time that Venus spent growing up with Dr Rockwell he spent much of his time taking blood tests so he could use her ooze to create warriors for Big mamas battle nexus as promised for the funding of his research. One day Venus asked why they followed this same routine everyday. Rockwell told her it was because he was making more mutants just like her. Venus said that she always wanted a family like the ones on the tv. Rockwell felt pitiful for the toddler so he created an entire batch of clones that could be Venus’s baby siblings. And that is how Lita was made. Even though she was albino and premature she was the oldest and only survivor of the clone batch. She was ready to be taken out of her tube the day before big mamas attack. Both Dr Rockwell and Venus spent their first hours with Lita and last hours before the attack taking care of her and loving her like any family loving its new member. After big mama took Venus away she snuck Lita into an old forgotten attic of the hotel and raised her from there. Even though she didn’t have much Lita had her older sisters love and a happy childhood compared to what Venus had to endure. They made the most of what they had and loved each other. When the boys met her, she was a little shy and shocked at first but immediately started to warm up to them. Lita is a trans girl and feels very uncomfortable when being referred to as a boy or Venus’s brother. Venus gets very defensive when someone does this to her knowing that it is one of the only peace’s of freedom Lita will ever have: To choose what she wants to be.

#tmnt mutant mayhem #Just some ideas

[waterlilylullabies]

𝓑𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓼

Dream of the Endless made a promise.

The world depends on his ability to keep it.

Or

Dream of the Endless must not fall in love.

Warnings: References to violence against women.

Prologue

The creature had the shape of a woman, but moved through the cave with the tremulous quality of light on water. Her name was Persinoë and she would die seven hundred years from now, at the end of a sword swung by a pockmarked youth, promised fortune and loose women on the high seas. Persinoë knew this, not the particulars of course, but she saw the vague shadows the future cast backwards through time and shivered in their chill.

Her sisters were similarly perturbed. So they gathered, they discussed their options, pros and cons. Thalia, the youngest by some three millennia, was quick to point out their dwindling list of patrons and protectors.

What to do?

There is one.

Not that one.

Who else?

Anyone else.

His son was kind.

His son is dead.

A silence steals over them, they’re unaccustomed to discord. They move through it like tall grass, it trips them, slows them down. But they are dying, their daughters are dying. So they come begrudgingly to an agreement and Persinoë is sent to the Cave of Lost Songs to bargain with the King of Dreams.

She does not go empty handed, she has her offerings (a swan’s feather, a shard of mirrored glass, a vial of snake spit) and she rests them on the makeshift altar at the back of the cave.

I humbly summon you, Oneiros.

The darkness of the cave deepens, becomes treacle thick and oppressive. There is a scent of roses, incense. She can taste night on her tongue. She inclines her head.

He touches the offerings with a slender elegant hand, that shivers in and out of reality.

“I greet you, Persinoë”

“And I you, Dream King”

It has been several lifetimes since they have spoken, she cannot recall what passed between them then. It had been a wedding, his son’s? Perhaps. She is too weary to recall, she has no time to ask.

Perhaps he senses this, because he sighs heavily, raises an eyebrow, gestures imperiously to the offerings. “This is not a social call”

“No. I have summoned you to beg a favour on behalf of my mothers, my sisters and my daughters, both the living and the dead”

He’s not expecting that.

“I do not grant favours”

She is expecting that.

“We are slain, entrapped, defiled-“

“And what concern is that of mine?” He cuts her off. He looks bored. Those eyes, distant galaxies, admitting no light. She wants to scream but she does not. Later, there will be time later.

“The songs are ending, it is only a matter of a few generations now.”

He is silent. Because he knows, everyone knows but they are all too weak now to make promises. They cannot share what little power they have when there’s no guarantee that by next week it will still be their name over the temple gate and not that of some new god child. Gods do not last, only the Endless remain. He knows why he has been called, but still he asks:

“Is this not the way of things Persinoë?”

She thinks of the hooks in her mothers back, her sisters terror, she thinks of Odysseus, taking what was not his to take. The words are heavy and unwieldy on a her tongue but all the same she speaks them. “My sisters and I were not put on this earth to suffer the cruelty of men.”

The Dream King considers this for a moment. “Then why not call upon Destiny?” He steps away from the altar, moves closer to her.

So she tells him about the girl who will be born thousands of years hence. Tells him he must take her, keep her in the dreaming, let her live out her days in his world, where she will be safe.

If he is surprised he does not let it show. Because what else is there to do? Without the binding songs there is nothing.

“What of you and your sisters?” He sounds, almost sad, but no more sorrowful than he would have been at the loss of a particularly fine trinket.

“We will disperse. We are safer apart.”

There is silence, a long ponderous silence, punctuated only by drips from the cave’s roof, the lapping of the sea at its mouth.

“I will take the child.” He says at last “I will protect her.”

“Swear it” Her shoulders are tight with tension, she is eager to flee, back to the rock pools where her sisters wait, but not until he is sworn. “-by the blood of your son.”

She thinks he will strike her. She thinks he will turn her to ash. His face is impassive but his eyes are wildfire. She does not cower. She meets his gaze though her stomach churns until at last, at last, he relents.

“I swear by the blood of my son, the child is under my protection, from now until the end of days.”

There is nothing further to be said. She bows, offers him thanks and turns to leave. They will not meet again.

“Persinoë” he calls. She turns and he is one with the gloom of the cave but for the faint shimmer of distant stars. “She will know of you, of all of you.”

Persinoë cannot see the particulars, but she can sense the broad strokes of the future. She hears a voice raised in song. She is not afraid to die.

Authors note: I’ve literally never written a fic before so feedback welcome!

#morpheus x reader #morpheus #morpheus fic #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #dream of the endless fic #the sandman #the sandman x reader #the sandman fic

[lemonhemlock]

Read your post about Rhaenys, and got an unsolicited opinion to offer :-D I have an impression after her own claim being denied she came to an opinion that in Westeros a woman wouldn't be accepted as a ruler (re: her talk with young Rhaenyra), so decided to ensure the best possible marriages for her daughter and then granddaughters. Like this, offering Laena to Vyserys makes sense - she would be queen and maybe regent. Same with Baela and Rhaena: should Rhaenyra be queen and Jace and Luke be the heirs to Iron Throne and Driftmark, Baela and Rhaena would be queen and Lady of Driftmark, respectively. Otherwise Baela (or Rhaena) wouldn't have any shot at the throne. Maybe she also hoped girls would be able to manipulate their husbands and thus have their own power. She seemed not too enthusiastic to support Rhaenyra though, so I have a feeling her going along was a mix of above and Corlys jumping into it. Well, idk how she really felt about the boys though, maybe not that bad? After all Laenor seemed to love them.

I do agree that Rhaenys has become bitter because of her being rejected by the Great Council of 101, hence imparting her pessimistic outlook to young Rhaenyra on the balcony. However, Andal Law was on her side and Westerosi people have respected that and accepted women rulers when Andal inheritance rights are followed. Lady Jeyne is one such example; her contesting cousins are rightfully considered usurpers. The reason Rhaenys didn't become Queen was because Jaehaerys held misogynistic beliefs and actively sabotaged her. Out of all Targaryen princesses in her chronological proximity, she is the one who had the best shot at becoming monarch and the one with the strongest legal claim against her male rivals and anyone else. But if you call a one-off council and give the lords the right to choose however they please, you're disregarding succession law and giving the nobles free reign. It's basically an election; they can vote because they liked the clothes Viserys was wearing, not because they carefully considered the points of law. There is also the possibility that the vote was rigged beforehand.

On the second point: Rhaenys is selling her granddaughters short. She should be pushing for Baela as Queen and Rhaena as Lady of Driftmark, with Luke as her consort. There is this prevailing notion that Rhaenyra is doing the Velaryons a favour by making Baela Queen. Not so. Baela is a noble, trueborn, pureblooded Valyrian girl with a dragon. Not many of those lying around. Rhaenyra should actively want Baela to be Jace's wife, regardless of the Driftmark situation. Rhaenys actually has bargaining powers here, but she's too much of a pushover to use them. She's making a mockery of her husband's house in the process + potentially alienating them & triggering a future defection (if the plot of the Dance had any logic behind it, that is).

As for how she feels about the Strong boys, she seems to mostly ignore them? She doesn't seem happy at all with Laenor's decision to be willingly cuckolded and she makes a point at Laena's funeral to only comfort her granddaughters.

#ask #anon #anti rhaenys targaryen #anti team black #house velaryon #asoiaf succession crises

[tumblingxelian]

Wednesday Fanfic Concept - Mothers

Summary:

When Enid slipped away from her mother and the horrifying thought of Conversion Therapy she did not expect to stumble on a conversation between Bianca and her own mother, let alone one so terrifying.

Bianca did not expect to spend Parents day trying to escape her mothers grasp. Let alone trying to do so in the Nightshades catacombs with Enid Sinclair at her side.

With any luck their mothers will kill each other or give up the search, but then, when have they ever been lucky?

Concept:

Sort of brief, more of an episode divergence, but I feel there is so much potential for a Enid Bianca team up during parents day.

Like, even within the context of the show and it works narratively and thematically!

In one side of the story you have:

Wednesday and Morticia overcoming the distance between them to reveal the truth of crimes past and free Gomez.

Meanwhile, unaware of all this, Enid & Bianca are hiding from their mothers who team up to hunt them them down.

Esther: I am sure your Childs rebelliousness will pass, but I envy you a child of such talent and power. I once thought Enid showed such potential but she lacks the will to find it.

Gabrielle: You are too kind my dear, but I must confess some of my own envy. For its clear despite her weakness and fear, Enid adores you in a way Bianca never could I.

Esther: The Grass is always greener on the other side I suppose.

In the middle of the episode, Esther and Gabrielle encounter Morticia in the Nightshaders library and have a veiled & tense stand off where Morticia.

Gabrielle: Ah, our apologies dear, we were simply seeking our missing daughters, I am sure you understand.

Morticia: If my daughter desired to go missing rather than speak with me, I'd accept that rather than force my presence on her.

Esther: Given the rumors swirling about her, that sounds more like an excuse for negligence than anything else.

One can feel the air growing tense, twisted, writhing shadows stretch across the walls showing hints of the women's true nature as the three stare each other down. Perhaps here seconds away from striking.

Wednesday: Mother, I did not expect to find you down here.

Morticia: (Smirking) I knew you would seek me out, when you were ready.

Gabrielle & Esther roll their eyes and leave.

Enid & Bianca cobble together a desperate plan, Perhaps after a rendition of a particular song, or at least a fencing match. The song may come at the end of the story too or elsewhere.

They used Bianca's song to force Enid into a partially transformed state and try to isolate Gabrielle to try and... Convince her to leave well enough alone.

Esther is quick to place an arm between the Siren and their children it morphing into a full developed Lycan arm even while her body remains otherwise the same as Gabrielle leans on it and smirks playfully,

Esther: Now, now Enid, that is no way to treat our fellows is it?

Gabrielle: You see dear, you inherited your swift social skills from me.

Bianca & Enid glance at one another before Bianca concedes.

Bianca: We would like to offer you two a deal.

Gabriele: Your bargaining position is rather dubious dear.

Esther: But I can't deny the boldness, let's hear them out.

The deal outlined lets them both runout at the year at Nevemore.

If Enid has not wolfed out she will go the conversion camp and Bianca will return to the cult regardless but ask permission to return to Nevermore to finish her education, but return whenever she is called.

Enid (Snarling) It isn't at though you need Bianca's song to make your critics go quiet, not with my mother on your side.

Esther: I am pleased to see the instincts of a hunter are not lost on you Enid.

Gabrielle: I would ask you to remember, we Sirens are as much hunters of men as Lycan.

Bianca: Then you can keep things under control, until I return, and give you everything you ask of me.

Ultimately the parents concede, though its shown they exchange info before parting ways. Also Lycan are semi-immune to Sirens song thanks to their brains morphic physiology.

At the end of the episode, Morticia respects Wednesday's boundaries but Wednesday also takes a step towards showing her affection.

Meanwhile after confronting their mothers, Enid & Bianca gets hugs that clearly distress them or that they obviously don't want.

Cue all three meeting up at the end of the day and:

Enid: I heard you had a crazy day"

Wednesday: It was, but before that, my mother asked after both of you, and whether you would be fairing well?

Bianca:... We got ourselves some time.

Their hope is to find a solution to Enid's transformation and Bianca's situation before the year is out.

Also, I know what canon Esther looked like but I swear, this version lives rent free in my head in any version she serves as a villain. or important figure:

The potential for toxic Yuri with her and Gabrielle it soo good to pass up.

Low key has me imagining a different AU:

Summary:

Wit the passing of her mate, Esther Sinclair was introduced to Morning Song. Suffice to say she never expected to find a kindred spirit in the 'communities' mistress.

Gabrielle had never been one to believe in things like love, but maybe she had just never met anyone of a mind to her enough but still distinct enough to share herself with.

Neither Enid or Bianca are having a good time.

I have no idea where this story would g, but I low key love the idea of Esther once having been a big deal and still having a lot of potential and fairly anti human politics.

& her finding an alliance in Gabrielle who is extremely predatory and powerful in her own right but who needs muscle/deniable agents to keep her little cult running.

With the pair rather liking the prospect of pairing Enid & Bianca up post Enid's wolf out. Or in the above case, they are busy engaging in toxic Yuri and ambitious schemes and their daughters are just having a bad time.

Not sure on Enid's brothers.

#Wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #bianca barclay #Esther Sinclair #Gabrielle Jane #Gabrielle Barclay #Enid x Bianca #Enid/Bianca #Mama Trauma (Wednesday)

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Kid Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Kid Fics -

1️⃣ nothing else but us right here by supernope (M, 35k)

Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.

2️⃣ Cold Little Heart by seducedbycurls (T, 194)

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child. A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham. Louis really could use the help.

3️⃣ Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry (E, 16k)

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

4️⃣ Your Mess Is Mine by amory (M, 176k)

Louis is the father to the most brilliant little boy in the world who is all Louis really needs, or at least that's what he tells himself. Harry is a gorgeous boybander fresh off a two year break and a massive scandal that's left him a little broken and more than ready to move on.

They fall in love.

5️⃣ all the lights are full of colour by @infinitelymint (E, 26k)

So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

- Hidden Gems -

💎 Know a Trick or Two by @sadaveniren (E, 44k)

The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child.

Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts.

Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

💎 What Side Of Love Are You On? by @fallinglikethis (T, 25k)

Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. Suddenly, Harry’s heart is being pulled in two very different directions. On one side is the sweet, caring woman he has fun with, but doesn’t know his mother chose for him. On the other is a man who seems to be his mother’s worst nightmare, but makes Harry’s heart flutter in ways he’s never felt before. When all is said and done, maybe they’ll all learn that when there is no clear path to go down, the best option is to follow your heart.

A Because I Said So Au with a bisexual twist.

💎 If We Have Each Other by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry (M, 23k)

“When are you going to accept my offer to go out again? It’s been seven years and you’re still saying no to a fun night?” Niall complains.

“A night in with Mads is a fun night for me Ni, I already told you that.” Harry responds while serving a customer.

“You’re infuriating, I just want my best friend to go out with me tonight, is it too much to ask?” Niall pouts but all Harry does is chuckle and prepare the coffee machine for the double espresso the customer ordered.

“Playing the victim, are we now?” Harry is so used to Niall’s techniques. “Well, I have good news for you, Maddie is having a sleepover at one of her friends so tonight so I’m all yours.”

OR AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever.

💎 Packed Lunches, Sticky Fingers and Accidental Levitation by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (G, 10k)

Harry Styles is a skilled work-from-home potionist five years out of university with a steady job, a house, and... eight kids. He also might be heading towards a breakdown if he doesn't get a bit of help. Enter a meddling pixie and an old university friend he might or might not have had a lot of feelings for.

💎 A Christmas Kiss by @parmahamlarrie (T, 8k)

Harry never expected to spend Christmas in the Emergency Room, but it might just be the (second) best thing to ever happen to him, after the birth of his son, of course. Because while in that hospital waiting for his son to be discharged, he met the most beautiful pediatric nurse he’s ever seen.

Or the one where Harry is a single dad, Louis is a pediatric nurse, and Arlo needs to stop eating hazelnuts.

The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child.

Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts.

Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

#hlcreators #hljournal #1dficvillage #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hlsource #ficrec #kidfic #parmahamlarrie #ladylondonderry #ishiplouis #fallinglikethis #sadaveniren #amory #infinitelymint #iwillpaintasongforlou #seducedbycurls #supernope