#stolen heir au

[hermesserpent-stuff]

so! i have a fun little idea for stolen heir. @lirabuswavi

so dragons. they bite and claw people. and lick them if they like them

In my au dragons can leave messages behind through bites and claws. they have scent gland things in their mouths, faces and claws.

So when a dragon bites or claws something, they can leave a message to other dragons there. a warning or good news. Gobbers lost limbs are marked up with scents of "DANGER OMG DANGER NOOOO"

and claw marks on Viggo's neck smell of "pain, pain. avoid."

but there are other things to note other than warnings.

some dragons claw up stones to note where food is plentiful nearby or to let dragons know there is a friend.

Hiccup's leg bite actually smells like a friend marking. it makes dragons hesitate a bit if they get close enough to sniff.

Then hiccup meets toothless and gets soaked in licks and false bites and claw baps. he is soaked in the smell of friend but also in "mine. be nice."

#httyd au #httyd #hermes speaks #how to train your dragon #hiccup haddock #toothless #world building ideas #stolen heir au

[the-laridian]

Would love to know anything more about Stolen Heir!! :)

Stolen Heir: Caesar Germanicus (evil!Gunnar) has a couple of very young kids, redheaded twins, Antonia (Toni) Ferox and Rufus Caesarion. (One guess who these two are in other universes) Semi-enslaved in Caesar's immediate household, Arcade makes a run for it, and takes Rufus with him - he can take only one kid to save them from being brought up in this bloodthirsty land, and has to make a snap decision which one.

Toni is devastated by this and never, ever forgets that Gannon stole her brother. Undoubtedly Rufus is the same way, she reasons, and if she ever finds him again, they'll be rejoined and he'll be so happy to see her again, and everything will be wonderful. Oh, and she'll kill Gannon.

Rufus, meanwhile, has completely forgotten his early life and anything about his old family. He's now Roger, Arcade's his dad and they're practicing what medicine they can in a neighboring land (modern day Mexico). Roger intends to be a doctor like his father (Arcade) when he comes of age.

By the time they're teenagers, Toni is well on her way to becoming an elite warrior, though of course she's still just a teenager and has to finish growing, and needs experience and so on. On her first mission outside Imperial borders (with Vulpes as her chaperone/guardian), she learns of a young man who could only be Rufus, and so she, Vulpes and the rest of the team proceed to hunt him and the traitor/abductor Gannon down.

@the-lastcall has done some great Toni art, now I guess I need to get on the ball and figure out something for Roger/Rufus :)

Thanks for the ask!

#legion au #laridian writes #legion au: stolen heir #answered

[thedeadthree]

OC LANGUAGE SURVEY

tagged by my dearies @marivenah, @florbelles and @dihardys to take this cutest survey for my darlings! ty so much beloveds! here is part one as well!

TAGGING: @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @queennymeria, @chuckhansen, @leviiackrman, @aartyom, @swordcoasts, @jackiesarch, @blackreaches, @noonfaerie, @arklay, @yennas, @confidentandgood, @celticwoman, @shellibisshe, @aceghosts, @multiverse-of-themind, @jacobseed, @saintsilver, @roofgeese, @pheedraws @rosebarsoap and you!

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high(-ish) / average / deep

ACCENT: yes (a little faint but its there) / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (INTIMIDATING and often seemingly unapproachable but not necessarily hostile?)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS - head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY -arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

THIS OR THAT -straightforward or cryptic (corpo things babes!) / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity neutrality or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling or magnanimity? (neither they’re not worth her time for that jdjajk) / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS:

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently (accent/language barrier, very rarely meaning) / rarely / never.

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes / no / only AND ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high(-ish) / average / deep

ACCENT: yes (a little faint but its there) / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (INTIMIDATING and often seemingly unapproachable but not necessarily hostile?)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS - head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY -arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

THIS OR THAT -straightforward or cryptic? (shes both! <3) / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity neutrality or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS:

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently (accent/language barrier, very rarely meaning) / rarely / never.

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high(-ish) / average / deep

ACCENT: yes (a little faint but its there) / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (INTIMIDATING and often seemingly unapproachable but not necessarily hostile?)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS - head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY -arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

THIS OR THAT -straightforward or cryptic (both!) / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity neutrality or (AND) femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS:

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently (accent/language barrier, very rarely meaning) / rarely / never.

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely (if she feels like messing with u ajnsjkn) / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high(-raspy) / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS - head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY -arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

THIS OR THAT -straightforward or cryptic / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity neutrality or (AND) femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling or magnanimity? / friendly (with people she likes) or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS:

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently (accent/language barrier, very rarely meaning) / rarely / never.

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely (if she feels like messing with u ajnsjkn) / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

#only if you want to of course! 🖤 #oc: viktoriya vays #oc: adda de trastamara #oc: cindra zoë #oc: hinata sanderson #the cyberpunk brainrot back in full swing and with a WICKED vengeance jsbjdxawbj..! missed my ladies! #especially if there is a part of the dlc where there’s space cindra’ll get a cyberpunk au..! she runs a lot of things in orbital space! #in that at least! #a former mox who moved to night city from orbital space when she was little..! she was besties with Evelyn! #i have been catching up on my sleep and recovering from a cold but I did get a chance to finish cyberpunk for vika and.. #MY HEART ACHESS..! going to try the solo ending again but it made the most sense vika would only trust professionals? #so she takes rogue! AND OUCHIEE...! and then johnny crossing the bridge and that cello I was BAWLING #(then I had to tear my own heart out by thinking vika has a recurring dream where she wakes up with jenkins..) #(realizing all this time she never got to grieve properly.. he tells her to move on. go find goro and all that WHYY) #im still working on addas backstory + going into the lore of pathfinder for that but? #shes a little inspired by Ciri in the witcher that she has a PRESTIGUOUS bloodline? prophecies and all that? #I think though that she has an older sibling! she knows that unless she k*lls them shell never be heir so stolen lands it is! #(loves her sibling but wants power so! that’s just what she did!) #leg.ocs #leg.tagged #TY MY DEARS gahh this was so cute to do again! <3

[ardenchambres]

About halfway through Runaway Kings’ word goal for myself. I wanted ~10K words before I could consider Runaway Kings remotely finished. I’m at 5.5K and I still have about 5 major plot points to get through. And like five years that have to pass

I’m already brainstorming oneshot ideas for the ocs i pulled from Stolen Heir (by HermesSerpent on ao3)

Excited,,,, and scared

#runaway kings au #stolen heir series #fanfic #word count

[ushiwhacka]

IT'S A KINDNESS, HIGHNESS | gojo satoru + fem! reader | 4,500 words | mdni | royalty au, gojo is the most obnoxious, annoying, charming prince ever <3

⇥ summary: your betrothed is unlike anything you ever imagined. he's improper and brash and delights in embarrassing you - but he wants you. and he always gets whatever he wants. ⇥ warnings: corruption, oral (f! receiving), spit, pussy job, food play (just a tiny little bit), reader is a virgin, satoru is so impatient

for my most beloved char <3 thank you for being so patient and for this super cute request (and also for reading but shh)

You were bred to marry royalty. It’s what you’ve been told since you were old enough to know the meaning of it. You were raised to marry royalty. To sit with your legs flawlessly tilted. To sing like a delicate bird. To speak low and curtsey even lower still. A perfect daughter destined to become a perfect wife. 

A resounding click as you close the locket once more. The intricate flowers are warm under your skin, worn out with how many times you’ve run your fingers over them. Clutching it to your chest, giddy with thoughts about the man who looks back at you through the heart-shaped frame. The many nights it has spent tucked under your pillow as you dream of chaste hand kisses and dancing with your betrothed as everyone else looks on. 

“Do you think he’s as handsome as his portrait?” You peer down at the now opened heart again, sighing wistfully as you think of looking into those shining eyes. 

“Keep your head straight.” A sharp reprimand before you feel another pin scrape at your scalp. And you do your best to swallow an audible wince. “It does not matter if he’s handsome, he’s a prince. And one day, he will be king and you will be queen.”

“But, mother —”

“And you will provide him with as many heirs as he wishes.” Her thumbs press into your bare shoulder blades as she regards you in the mirror. A familiar expression on her face, her mouth taut in a thin line, she levels you with steely eyes. “This will do.” You swallow your questions. “Now go.”

There is a whirlwind of kitchen maids and footmen carrying silver trays overflowing with food, dusting the railing, adding wood to the already roaring fireplace. It all comes to a sobering still at the sound of galloping horses and wheels rolling over gravel and the clamour turns into concealed whispers and feet scurrying away. 

Two years since your betrothal. Two years of waiting and wondering. Two years worth of daydreams and fantasies of saccharine words and stolen glances and promises made tucked away behind secret corners. The air lodges in your lungs.  

The silence in the room is so heavy that you can hear your heart thumping in your chest, faster and louder as the steps in front of the door grow nearer. A click. Then the thumping stops. 

He is just as beautiful as his portrait. And yet, he looks nothing like it. There’s something so brazen about him, how strands of messy, white hair fall over his eyes. How his shirt is too loose and untied, the deep opening showing the pale skin of his chest. 

You follow the contour of it. Wide eyes taking in the dip of his throat, the swell of muscle just underneath. It feels forbidden, something you shouldn’t be allowed to see. And still you cannot peel your eyes away. Watching as he draws closer with every long step. Your feet feel like lead sinking into the hardwood floors. 

Curtsey. You’re supposed to curtsey, low and steady. You’re supposed to bow your head before the prince. 

“Ah, my future wife.” It’s too late. “You look ravishing.” 

Before you know it, your hand is in his hand and you can barely breathe. Your chest straining against the fabric of your dress. He looks at you in a way no one has before, like a predator who’s about to devour his prey. Then he brings your hand to his mouth, his lips warm against your skin. 

And he looks at you. Impudent eyes burnt into yours for too long. It’s lewd. It makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks heat in embarrassment. 

Your head is reeling, hand clutched into fists as you follow the group into the dining hall. You had only read of such behaviour in forbidden books hidden in the depths of your family library. It was inappropriate, a stolen moment of intimacy. Still, you can feel the shape of his lips on the back of your hand, stinging like a brand. Thumb pressing into it as you sit on the table with your hands in your lap and head hanging low. 

He sits with his chin propped on his fist, looking around with lidded eyes, the very picture of boredom painted on his fair face. Every word out of his mouth comes drawn out and lazy. But you can still feel his gaze following you, the bob of your throat as you swallow, the tiny drop of red wine sauce on your lips, the nervous fidgeting of your fingers. 

The rest of the world feels like noise, blurs, falls away under the weight of his curious eyes until it’s just you and him. And there’s nothing else to feel but how he drinks you in, how he lingers in all the forbidden crooks of your body. Like you’re already his and his alone.

You’re almost afraid to look at him. The way he stretches in the chair, legs spread wide and slouching over the armrests. Every attempt of your father’s to make polite conversation is thwarted with a disinterest that is almost insulting. Current affairs, politics, and tomorrow’s hunt pale in comparison to the way your hands trembles around the fork. How it clatters against your plate when you feel his hand brush the side of your thigh under the table. 

“Are you feeling unwell, My Lady?” The conversation halts when the prince speaks, heads turn to focus their attention on you. 

“I — I am quite alright.” You feel as though you might choke on the very air you breathe. “You are kind to ask, Your Highness.”

It must have been an accident. You try to reason with yourself that it was an accident. But you suspect it wasn’t. Not when his companion turns to glare at him. Not when his mouth quirks up ever so slightly in satisfaction.

Not when he looks at you as a child looks at a new toy. His new toy. There for his amusement.

Feet patter softly against the floor as you pace around your chambers, watching the sky turn black then lighten again. The pillows feel too warm and your bedding is scratching against the skin of your legs. And every time you close your eyes, you see him, you feel the warmth of his hand on yours, his plush lips on your knuckles. 

You press your mouth to the patch of your skin he kissed, you wonder what it would feel like if he kissed you. Would he be loving and tender? Or would he simply take and take some more, leaving you breathless and trembling? 

It is your duty to give, give him whatever he asks for. That’s the purpose of a wife. You had heard the same lecture nearly daily for over two decades of your life. But there was never an explanation. What must you give? Which part of you would he want for himself?

There’s a fluttering feeling in your belly. Like a sense of frustration that builds and grows with each new thought. Spreads lower still and your whole body comes alight. Like you might not mind giving as many parts of yourself to him as he may want, even if it’s all of you. It makes your chest heave and sweat bead at your hairline. Persists until you succumb to the mercy of exhaustion.

You spend the next morning avoiding anyone with a pulse — the gossiping servants, your mother, and especially him. Walking softly and peeking around corners until you find refuge in the library. The tips of your fingers grazing across dusty books as you read the titles. None of them particularly exciting. And either way, none of them have answers to the questions swirling through your mind. So you resign yourself to your thoughts, fingers dancing over the spines of dusty tomes.

“There.” Before you even know you are no longer alone, your body is pressed forward into the shelves, a chest flush against your back. “Just what I was I was searching for.” 

The sound of his melodic voice makes the blood simmer in your veins. He’s toying with you. You know he has no interest in any book your library could offer. And you’re angry. Angry because you know none of it is an accident. Angry because he is not the man you had imagined. 

And all that rage turns to ice in your veins when you turn around to face him, neck craned upwards only to be met with his bare chest peeking out of the crisp white shirt and a wolfish grin. 

“Your Highness, you —”

“Did you like my portrait?” His fingers inch towards you, rest on your collar bone as he examines the little silver heart that hangs around your neck. “I sat for it just for you.”

“It is in your likeness.” 

“You wound me.” His face is much too close to yours, so close that his breath fans over your skin when he breathes out a laugh. You’ve never felt smaller. “Do you think I’m handsome?”

“Your Highness —”

“Satoru.” He interrupts you again. His lips brushing against your ear. “If you are to be my wife I want to hear you say my name.” Your skin prickles up as he whispers, raw where his words fall over your neck. 

There’s an eerie quiet wrapping you together. Like anything beyond those towering shelves falls away. And all that’s left is the sound of his calm breaths and your heart pummelling against your ribs.

“Satoru.” It feels foreign in your mouth, fills it up. Sits heavy on your tongue.

“Good girl.” 

Then he leaves you. He walks out of the grand room with a spring in his step and a wave. And you’re gasping for air, one hand splayed over your chest where he had touched you, the other digging into the wooden shelves as a means to keep you upright. 

You feel watched, his shining eyes follow your every step. He finds you in the library again even when you’ve tucked yourself away in the most private of nooks. He finds you in the kitchens late at night, sneaking a few bites of cake and milk before bed. He finds you in the garden too as you sit on a bench overlooking the pond, tucked in the thick shade of a weeping willow. 

You’ve grown used to his presence in a way. Used to the quickening of your heart at the mere sight of him, at the sound of his voice. Used to the way your tummy coils when he touches you with near unbearable familiarity. 

Satoru sits next to you and puts the tray of lemon cakes on his lap. He’s too close again, his knee touching yours. And you allow it. Again. 

He shuffles in his seat, taps his fingers on the bench, then sighs deeply — making his presence known, waiting for you to acknowledge it. 

You don’t. 

The silence only lasts for one brief moment. “Have a taste.” He brings the sweet to your mouth and nudges your hand away when you try to take it. “No, no. Open wide for me.”

That feeling that sits low in your belly comes back, twists your insides. But you do as you’re told and part your lips. You’ve learned by now that he enjoys watching your face twist with embarrassment. Just loves that you will disregard every lesson in proper behaviour you’ve been taught for him. 

The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, lingers there too long. The cake crumbles on your tongue, tangy and sweet. And his mouth hangs slightly open as he watches the way the cream sticks to your teeth, his lithe fingers resting on your chin. It’s suffocating, like the air has thickened in the space between you. Like you cannot breathe until he tells you to. 

“Why are you squirming?” 

The question catches you off guard. “I’m not.”

“Do you like it when I touch you? Does it make you feel strange between your legs?” He leans into you as he speaks. “Is your cunt all wet?”

Your eyes widen in shock. He’s not supposed to say that word. So filthy and unbecoming.  And it makes you feel all… wrong. Too aware of how your body preens for him.

“That is not an appropriate way to speak to a lady.” It takes every drop of strength you possess to not trample over your words. To ignore how he looks at you, barely surpassing his amusement. To stand on your feet and stomp away from him. 

But still, when you slam the heavy doors to your chambers closed, all you can hear is his voice, deep and sanguine. And all you can think about is how it feels to be so close to him, to breathe in his scent and feel the warmth of his skin on yours. How you sink into every touch and every brush of his knuckles. How you feel dazed and light-headed when he speaks words he shouldn’t. 

How you wish to know more.

He finds you again that same night. Walks into your bedchambers wearing a shirt pulled further apart than usual. Feigns innocence as you regard him with stern eyes and your mouth pressed into a disapproving line.

“You really cannot be here.” You fold into yourself, suddenly aware of how he can see you, see all parts of you through the nightgown that’s turned translucent in the candlelight.

“I must have lost my way.” His voice hushed, but you can still hear the insincerity in it. “It’s a big house.”

“I’m certain you’re used to bigger.” You pull your arms closer to your chest. “Now go.”

He doesn’t. You can feel how his eyes rake over you, take in every detail as you stand almost bare before him — how your hair looks when it’s not neatly arranged and adorned with pearls, how your fingers dip into your shoulders, how the tops of your breasts peek from behind your forearms with every heavy breath.

“You’re beautiful.” He takes a step toward you, long fingers brushing over your hair. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Satoru, please.”

“Tell me you want me to leave.”

You swallow thickly, throat tight around your words, swallowing them. Your eyes dart away from him as embarrassment climbs up your legs, warms your cheeks. 

He reaches out, holds your chin between his thumb and index finger. Tilts your head so that you have to look at his face, so that he can see up close the quiver of your lips as you succumb to him. “I’m waiting.” Because you will succumb to him.

The air between you feels suffocating, sticks to you. You turn your head, desperate to breathe, to escape what feels inevitable. But you’re met with the palm of his hand, searing in its tenderness as it pulls you closer to him. 

His lips hover above your own, impatient but still waiting for your resolve to fracture and crumble in his grip. The flicker of your eyes brimming with anticipation is enough of an answer. A shared breath and the distance between you dissipates as he kisses you. 

You’re standing on the tips of your toes, your body extending to dissolve into his. Like it knows its place. He’s gentle, his lips plush and soft and oh so warm as they press on yours. And you feel like you might lose yourself to this feeling, to his touch, consumed by his hunger. And when he pulls away you chase after him.

But he stops you with a hand around your jaw. “Don’t be greedy, now.” His thumb swipes across your lips. “You’re such a good girl, yes?” A dazed nod and his finger pushes inside your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes onto your tongue. He stakes his claim on you. You’re his. Every last part of you. All of you. His to touch as he pleases. To have as he pleases. His and his alone. “And did they teach you what husbands and wives do together?”

You shake your head.

He swipes over the plump of your lips again, coating them in warm spit as you struggle to keep upright, light-headed, feet tingling with trepidation and something unfamiliar. “Would you like me to show you?”

“Y-yes.” It comes out shaky and breathless, like it should have remained in your throat, died there. Like you should have said no. But there’s that feeling in your belly again, starved and growing, and it wants him. And everything that may entail.

He kisses you again. This time it’s different, firmer, he forces you to open yourself up to him, his tongue licking inside your mouth. Holds you in place with a hand wrapped around the back of your neck. Devours you. Your every sense is alight with the feeling of him, forbidden and yet there in between your eager fingers. 

There’s drool dripping down the sides of your chin, so unbecoming, so embarrassing. Yet it doesn’t compare to the sting that spreads to your cheeks when his tongue darts out to lap it up, lick you clean. Then he kisses you once more, even deeper than before and no drop of himself he has so graciously given you goes to waste. 

You can’t escape the scrutiny of his crystal eyes, shining with pride at the result of his efforts as they take in the sight of you. From your swollen lips, down your neck, to your chest heaving with every laboured breath, and your arms folded together in a feeble attempt to protect your modesty. 

“Let me see you.” His voice trembles just for a moment. As if he, too, is being held together by delicate seams, bursting with want, with the need to have you. 

His fingers snake around your wrists and your breath hitches. But you still let him peel your arms off your body, let his knuckles ghost over the thin material, let him undo the bow that holds your nightgown together. 

You can hear how hard he swallows, see how his throat bobs with the effort, how his mouth goes slack at the sight of your perky nipples peeking out from underneath the white cotton. “Are you nervous?” 

“A little.” 

Knuckles ghost over your clavicle as he hooks a finger around each strap of your nightgown. He looks into your eyes as he pulls them over your shoulder. “Don’t be.” And the dress falls around your feet in a rustle.

The look on his face is unlike anything you have ever seen before. Something primal and fierce. Like a starved animal, a wolf about to devour the lamb caught in his paws. He will take everything, carve it out of your core and grind it between his molars. And you will let him. And you will ask for more.

Feverish lips leave a trail down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. You hold onto him, nails digging into the base of his neck as he moves further down, watching in awe as he licks a stripe in between your breasts. He’s watching you too, eager to see how your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure, how you try to bite back the moans that tumble out anyways.

His hands move to cup your tits and he takes his time watching how the fat spills from in between his fingers. Touches your nipples so lightly it tickles, then latches his mouth onto one. It’s obscene, the prince on his knees, your skin glistening with a thin layer of his spit. And oh the noises he makes, whining as he sucks on the hardened buds, the pop as he releases one, only to move to the other side and do it all over again. 

The blissful smile on his face as he looks at you coming undone in his arms. 

But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to fill the emptiness that’s spreading inside out you. “Please, Satoru —” Your voice weak and desperate, begging for something, anything that will make you feel whole again. 

“What’s wrong, My Lady?” He stands to his feet, curving into you. “What do you want?”

“Satoru…” You say his name like a prayer, like it’s your only salvation.

“Do you want me to touch you —” His fingers dip between the fat of your thighs “— here?”

And you gasp oh so sweetly as his middle finger presses into your folds. Your legs buckle, nails digging deeper into his skin. You want more. And you squeeze around his hand like your body knows what you need when even you don’t. But it’s too late. He’s already holding his finger in between you, dripping with your slick. Then he pops it in his mouth, looks into your eyes as he swirls his tongue around it. 

“Mmm, sweet.” It’s like he delights in embarrassing you even now. “I want more.”

He carries you to the bed, sets you down gently before pulling the shirt off his back. He can see you and, at last, you can see him too. The peaks of his chest, drops of sweat running down between the ripples of his abdomen. So broad. Not even marble statues, perfectly carved works of art, can compare to him. 

His hands are smoothing over your legs, firm, like he’s trying to commit every dip and curve of them to memory. His kisses start chaste, airy over the bone of your ankles, tickle the back of your knee. Slowly, they turn hungry, demanding as he buries his head between your thighs. He sucks on your soft flesh there, his mouth hot and needy. Then his tongue laves over the teeth marks imprinted into your skin, soothing the sting of it. 

He stops for a moment. Desperate eyes taking in the sight of your pussy, wet and sticky with arousal. He runs his fingers over the sensitive skin, listens to you sharply inhale at the contact. 

“You’re mine.” The world stops. “Say it.”

You can only manage a strangled whisper. “I’m yours.”

Then you feel it, the warmth of his breath as his mouth hangs just above your core, how wet and thick and hot his tongue is when it licks between your folds. How it curls around that spot that makes you whimper and call out his name. And he wraps his lips around it, sucks on it and you cannot stop the cry that erupts out of your mouth. 

Your belly tightens. And you have to hide your face behind trembling hands, hide your panting and the way your cheeks could burst with shame. But you cannot stop how your body leans into him, how your legs wrap tightly around his head, pulling him closer still. 

“You’re doing so well.” His voice vibrates against your centre and you moan, high-pitched and strained. “Just let go for me.” 

You can feel the sheets grow wetter beneath you, him cursing under his breath about how perfect you are, his tongue all over you, lapping up your slick and dipping into all the perfect places. And that feeling snaps, spreads until your legs are shaking and you can do nothing but wail and scratch your nails across his scalp. 

Lips move across your tummy, sloppy wet kisses mix withe the damp of your skin. He kisses you again, cradles your neck, holds you in place. It’s forceful and his mouth is so hot on yours, dripping, covers you in a taste that’s salty and sweet and intoxicating. 

His hair is tussled, face shiny with you. And he looks at you with some kind of twisted pride in his eyes. “Have I won My Lady’s favour?”

A weak nod.

“Then —” He starts as nimble hands undo the ties on his breeches, “— I should show you what you have done to me.”

It’s a sight unlike any other. His cock, with soft white tufts of hair at the base, thin veins curving around his length and a blush pink tip leaking something clear and thick. And when he rests it on top of your tummy it feels heavy and it goes all the way up to your belly button. 

“When we’re married I intend to have you like this every day.” His eyes are glued to where your bodies connect. “Perhaps more than once. We need heirs, don’t we?” Excitement tingles in your fingertips.

He runs the fleshy tip over your slit so agonisingly slowly. Follows every little movement with such intensity. And he feels like velvet against you, warm and throbbing over your core. Each buck oh his hips catches that sensitive peak between your folds and you feel your insides coil again. Writhe with want, with need to feel that release again. 

You reach out to touch him, feel how he ruts into you. And he moans at the contact, a little choked out and whiny. You run your hand over his length, encouraged by how his lips part so prettily. And he feels so thick, so firm in your grasp.

“You’re a fast learner.” His mouth stretches, a picture of satisfaction.

But his tip catches against your entrance, and his eyebrows knot uncomfortably and he grinds his teeth. Knuckles white around the crumpled sheets as he tries to ground himself. Resist. Just for now. But never again.

His thrusts become more erratic, reckless as he surrenders to the tenderness of your flesh. And you follow closely along, hips bucking into him, looking for more friction, more of him. Your name falling from his lips, and his from yours. Like a sacred choir chant, or a cry for mercy, or something no words could ever convey. 

He finds his release with his head hung and a low grunt. Spilling all over your belly, white and sticky and hot. He’s spent, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, chest heaving. You like the way he looks at you, bright eyes dimmed and hazy. Softer. And you think you must have taken a part out of him too.

He clings to you, lets you lay your head on his chest, your ear just above his heart. Its steady beat is oddly soothing. And so is the way he gently rubs little circles into your back, grounds you, binds you to him. Unexpected but not unwanted. 

“Do you want to marry me?” He looks so different. Vulnerable and entirely too human, gaze locked onto the carved wood of your ceiling. As if he’s afraid of your answer, the truth in your eyes.

“Hm.”

“Hm?” His chest tightens.

“Only if you promise to sleep in my bed for as long as we both shall live.”

He turns to you with a click of his tongue. “I think they will have to drag me out by my arms and legs.” A wistful sigh. “There might even be casualties.”

thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

[thelarriefics]

ABO FIC REC, Part IV: Below are more recent abo fics. (Part I, Part II, Part III)

📖 Unrequited by @babyhoneyheslt (143k)

Omega Prince Harry of England has been engaged to Prince Louis of France ever since he was a young boy. Having met him at four and forming a bond, Harry is upset to find that Louis no longer treats him like a friend, instead treating him coldly. However, Louis has his own dark secrets and Harry doesn’t know just how many dangers linger in French Court.

📖 Tangled in your love and light by @likelarryfics (95k)

Harry doesn't have time for romance or finding an Alpha between balancing work, studying and looking after his daughter, Bella. Enter Louis Tomlinson who's a romantic sweet Alpha, determined to win the omegas heart and turns Harry's whole world upside down, making him question everything he's ever wanted and known.

📖 Secrets in Winter by @softfonds (82k)

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

📖 Ace of Spades by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Living as a sheltered omega in a farming village has not prepared Harry for life aboard the most notorious pirate ship to sail the Atlantic. Or Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

📖 Bikestrike by @thinlinez (68k)

What would you do if you saw someone riding your bike, which had been stolen weeks before, across campus? Omega Harry chose to show no mercy. He didn't know it would all lead him to his own demise.

📖 There You Are by @tiredtiredtzofiya (55k)

Prince Harold, youngest pup of the House of Lancaster, has a secret. Louis, a healer at the king’s court with a keen knowledge of plants and herbs, simply wishes to know the shy young prince better. When Harry, the heir loved by everybody yet needed by no one, takes ill after several arduous heats, lonely Louis is the one entrusted to care for him, and the resultant bond that forms between the two tests the limits of in sickness and in health.

📖 Angel Baby by @brightgolden (51k)

When Louis’ sugar-baby-turned-mate suddenly wanted a pup, he simply couldn’t say no to his bright-eyed omega. After all, who didn’t want a mini Harry running around the house? He should have known that it wasn’t all wonderful in the wonderland of baby making.

📖 Some Records Turnin’ by @ireallysawanangel (49k)

Harry is a soft alpha who owns a record store and Louis is a closeted singer omega masquerading as an alpha who randomly stumbles into Harry’s store.

📖 does it always end in heartbreak? by @onlythebravest (47k)

Life never plays out the way one wants it to and no one ever goes through it unharmed. A story of two relationships, two life stages and more than only two broken hearts.

📖 put a little love on me by @larrydoinglaundry (29k)

Two people who are always taking care of someone else’s needs while ignoring their own, just happen to cross paths.

📖 'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense (26k)

When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

📖 Not Safe For Work by @greenblueish (23k)

the one where the boys work at Niall's fashion start-up 28 Programme Designs, and omega Louis has a lot of not safe for work thoughts about his colleague Harry, but little does he know that the alpha can read minds.

📖 Incandescent Love by @marchessa (21k)

the one where Alpha Louis is a world famous musician, who could get anyone he wanted, but instead he fell for a proper omega of high society. Too bad Harry shows no sign of wanting to settle down and start a family with him yet. The omega seems to be perfectly happy with their friends-with-benefits relationship. Louis is pining hard, and he might be running out of time when Harry’s father decides to start meddling with his only son’s future.

📖 Your Eyes Outshine the Town by @insightfulinsomniac (19k)

When a freak French snowstorm traps Harry's family in Paris, he's suddenly left flying home for a Christmas spent alone. However, everything changes after a chance encounter with an undeniably attractive, generous alpha who suggests that Harry join his family's Christmas celebrations. Against his better judgment, Harry agrees, and follows Louis back to Doncaster for the holidays. Little does he know, he'll not only become attached to the alpha, but to his entire family. Maybe his Christmas won't be as lonely as he expected. Complete and utter fluff ensues. Sappy Christmas tropes abound.

📖 Swap me for your shadow by @lunarheslwt (16k)

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

📖 The Room Thief by @2tiedships2 (12k)

When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

📖 No (Birth) Control by @haztobegood (2k)

An unfortunate situation left Harry without contraceptives a day before his heat.

📖 Untraditional Rut by @dreamersdivin-headfirst (2k)

Ever since then, he figured out why he’s never enjoyed his traditional ruts. Because he’s not into the whole primal animalistic stereotype of alpha ruts. He’s into spanking and wax play.

📖 we don't fight fair by @hellolovers13 (2k)

Nothing like a little chase to start off Louis' heat.

📖 hey stupid, i love you by @enchantedlandcoffee (1k)

The one where self-proclaimed Valentine's Day hater, Louis, surprises his boyfriend on their first Valentine's together.

#masterpost #abo fics #hljournal #hlcreators #1dsource

[edenalieth]

Tricked pt.2

Pairing: pixy!hyunjin x afab! reader — read part.1

Genre: faery!au, based on « the cruel prince » universe, smut, slight angst

Warnings: he’s still short tempered his dad is too, unprotected sex (they're fairies, they struggle to have kids and are immortals, you're not), oral m!receiving, fingering f!receiving, orgasm denial, bit rough/jealousy, y'all are a bit tipsy

Summary: At first, he thought he was hallucinating but he could recognize your delicate gestures, the plump of your lips, your hand engulfed by the stranger’s one and the way his free hand was sneakily brushing over your butt. Who was this asshole ? Rage setting his blood on fire, he couldn’t stop staring at you, making him stumble over his partner's feet. He apologized to the lady he was dancing with and headed towards you. Little did he know that you were waiting for this reaction. 

Words: 4.7K 

A.N: hi, it's cami! im back with the second part of this faery au. it's actually a first for me to write a sequel, i recently read the stolen heir so it helped going back into this universe haha. sorry for the eventual mistakes, i hope you will like it ♡ — 231206

His shirt was barely buttoned up, his hair untied and soaked after swimming with you on the lake and he unconsciously hummed a song on his way back to the manor. He felt delighted by the time you had spent together. Of course, he wasn’t forgiving you for the way you had played with his feelings, the way you made a fool out of him but he would let you go with it, for now. And, after all, it was your secret. Just like the place where you had sealed your passion to. He shivered thinking about how your hands touched him, how your soft lips crashed on his. He let his fingers brush against his lips, his steps guiding him towards the white rocky structure he called his dwelling. 

When the heavy wooden door opened at his arrival he heard his name being announced by the guards and some servants rushing towards him. 

« My lord, what happened to your clothes ? Please, you should wear some shoes and get dressed properly. » urged an old woman called Mona. She used to be his nanny and was always making sure things were perfect for him. Since he grew up, he was seeing her less and less as she was busy directing other attendants. However, she always showed up during important times. Today was no exception. 

Hyunjin raised a brow looking at the fae. He checked his white shirt. There was some green stains here and there because of your little fight. His feet were dirty after walking in the woods. Fine but what now ? Were the guests still here ? Even so, he didn’t care. The high society had seen him in a far worst shape than just being underdressed. And, after all, even a cruel and perverted man like Cardan had been able to access the throne. People would not be shocked for so little. 

The woman clapped twice and domestic servants swarmed over him, dusting his shoulders and feet, handing him a clean doublet and boots. He rejected them, annoyed by all this fuss. « Could you at least tell me why I should do this ? I would like to retire to my apartments. » the black haired pixy grumbled, his tone iron cold, looking at them with no mercy. The old fae sighed, not impressed by his temper. « Your father is waiting for you in his office. » 

His shoulders got tensed and he clenched his fists, the muscle of his jaw suddenly prominent. He pulled the clothes off the hands of a brownie, while an other one was helping him to put his boots on. Once ready, he headed towards the office. 

As usual, his steps were echoing on the empty corridors. In the fading daylight, the last rays of sunshine were illuminating the walls of different shades of blue, making the shadows dance. He stopped at the doorframe, took a deep breath and knocked.

« Come. » his father’s low voice seemed calm, too calm. 

Hyunjin entered the room. He bowed and said « Father. Mona told me you wanted to see me. » 

The place wasn’t really big and quite off-centered from the crowded rooms of the manor. Mountains of books were surrounding the huge oak desk, skillfully engraved with pixies and ivy. The young man was about to sit on one of the armchair facing it but his father stopped him, raising his hand as a gesture for him to wait. « No need, I won’t be too long. »

Hyunjin had difficulties to stay focused and he was trying with all his might to not let his wings buzz. His father was writing on some papers, not even bothering to look at his son. When he finished, he sealed it with blue wax, stamping the coat of arms of their family using his signet ring. Hyunjin had a similar one on his left index. « Today was your last tantrum. » his parent stated. 

The boy scoffed, tapping his feet on the floor. « A tantrum ? Maybe it would not have happened if this incompetent » and he insisted on that word, gritting his teeth « was doing his job properly. He humiliated me in front of the guests. » 

His dad stood up, overlooking his son. « No! You did that yourself and a multiple times! » he seethed. Hyunjin could feel his body getting hot from all the rage he was holding back. Controlling his wings was now a wasted effort and it didn’t go unnoticed. The older man looked at him with disdain. « Look at you. You’re dressed like a peasant and can’t even discipline your emotions. You almost hurt a domestic today, you put on a show during our dinner with the duke and your reputation is well known in Insmire. » he paused, analyzing Hyunjin’s reaction to the statement. He continued. « Get ahold of yourself or I will have to interfere myself. » he threatened. The pixy was fulminating. « I dare you to try. » he spit, his body few inches from his father’s. Not getting the time to react, he felt a loud pain on his cheekbone. His mind went blank, something warm dripping along his face. 

His dad pulled out a tissue from his pocket and cleaned his ring. « A ball is going to be held in four days. This is your chance to show the true values of the Hwang family. Understood ? » Hyunjin didn’t answer. « I said, understood ? ». 

« Yes, father. » 

When Hyunjin came back to his room, he had the urge to break everything around him. He checked himself on the full length mirror, his cheek was red, with some hints of purple and dry blood on the cut. Despite his anger, he could tell this argument made him come back to his senses. He deserved to be respected and feared but he also needed to behave a bit more to reach that goal. Not to be the capricious heir and to be able to surpass his dad. First, he would try to control his emotions. Second, he would avoid people making it harder for him to reach his first goal and having a bad influence on him, such as you. He could tell his heart had soften the second he took interest in you. It started when you arrived at the court and exploded after your afternoon together. He would not meet you the next day, breaking his promise. Nor the other. He didn’t need a weakness. He didn’t need to like you. 

Servants were helping him to get ready. He was wearing an all white outfit. The tip of his boots was covered of dark silver and Mona attached a brooch made of sapphires as dark as the night sky. His cloak, also white, was covered of tiny diamonds looking like the morning dew. His former nanny handed him a mask made of tulle. It wasn’t totally covering his face, just enough to hide his bruise and eyes. He was playing with the ring on his index, adorned with his coat of arms. It represented several pair of pixy wings, intertwined with ivy forming a H. Hyunjin often played with it to relax or, at least, try to. He perfectly knew that you would be here tonight. It would probably be difficult to ignore you, he was scared of your reaction. However, it was a masked ball and maybe you would not recognize him in the crowd. He hoped so. 

Once ready, a knight came to escort him and his family to the castle where the ball was taking place. The great hall was beautifully decorated. Fresh flowers were dripping from the ceiling expertly mixing with the high chandeliers where small fireflies were trapped, diffusing a dim light. The tables were covered with food and drinks going from grilled fish accompanied with a lemony sauce, fae fruits and exotic ones, some mortal dishes and different types of wine. 

A small orchestra was playing and a lot of people were dancing dressed with their prettiest gowns or totally naked. Spotting some acquaintances, he followed his family, greetings several people. Trolls, mermaids, elves. He had to go through this if he wanted to get some freedom from his father’s constant monitoring. Which, after what felt like hours, he got. His mother was busy gossiping with court ladies and his father needed to discuss some serious topic with a duke. Hyunjin wasted no time and decided to join some of his friends he had noticed earlier and took a glass of green wine. The alcohol going down his throat burnt him but the taste of it was incredible. 

« Look who is joining us! What have you been up to ? You didn’t come to Xylia’s party this week. » immediately questioned a young sidhe named Jisung. Him and Hyunjin used to hate each other until the pixy helped him out of a really bad situation. Said situation implying his friend having an affair with a married woman. 

« I’ve been on thin ice with my father’s patience lately… Staying at the manor was my best option. » 

Jisung pouted not truly convinced and took a bite on a fae fruit, some of its golden dust slightly covering his mouth. « Better make up for last time then » he mischievously replied with a smirk, pouring another glass of wine to Hyunjin. The latest smiled and let himself go a little while said Xylia, a nymph who had been interested on the black haired man, came up to sit on his lap. 

« Hwang Hyunjin is finally honoring us of his presence! » she purred, sliding her arms around his shoulders. « Missed me ? » he arrogantly said. « Of course ». She chuckled, revealing pointy teeth, then proceeded to come closer to sensually bite his neck. Jisung laughed and looked at them avidly. It wasn’t the first time he was seeing them acting like this but it surely aroused him. Hyunjin used to love it, playing with Xylia, flirting with indecency, teasing his friend. He thought that giving in to his old demons would help him get you out of his mind but everything seemed bland. The nymph strong flowery scent was overwhelming, his mouth felt furred because of the wine and the sidhe’s reaction annoyed him. 

« Stop… » his voice was barely audible. The girl kept on going, sliding her hands along his torso. « I said stop. » he growled firmly, trapping the nymph’s wrist in his hand. His gaze was icy, giving cold sweat to Xylia. « What’s wrong with you ? » she was visibly offended. The pixy man rolled his eyes « I’m bored staying in your company ». He stood up and went towards the dancing crowd. He heard Jisung trying to convince him to stay and could feel the nymph’s angry eyes boring holes into his back. He didn’t care, now that the alcohol was doing its job he could only think about one thing: finding you. 

How came you didn’t cross his path yet ? Yes, all those masks and textile fluttering all around him were making him dizzy and harder for him to notice you. However, it couldn’t be impossible, right ? Unless you weren’t invited… Unthinkable. Your family was freshly part of the high society, they needed to shine among it to get the recognition from their pairs. Hyunjin let himself be drawn into a waltz, changing partners and spiraling according to his thoughts. Until his eyes finally landed on you. At first, he thought he was hallucinating but he could recognize your delicate gestures, the plump of your lips, your hand engulfed by the stranger’s one and the way his free hand was sneakily brushing over your butt. Who was this asshole ? 

Rage setting his blood on fire, he couldn’t stop staring at you, making him stumble over his partner's feet. He apologized to the lady he was dancing with and headed towards you. Little did he know that you were waiting for this reaction. 

You had noticed him rather quickly. How could you do otherwise, anyway ? He was shining like the purest gem among the nobles and courtiers. The tulle mask was doing nothing, you could tell right away that it was him by the way he elegantly walked, his dark blue wings, his pearl earring he seemed to never take off from his pointy ears. The second you saw him in the crowd, you almost ran to him, desperate to know why he never came back to the lake. However, you needed to find the right time for it because you weren’t going to be nice and you couldn’t tarnish your family's reputation. He seemed like a different person when it was only the both of you. You thought he had a soft spot for you. What an idiot you had been. You felt betrayed. Maybe it was his revenge for the little play you had pulled on him and it felt like getting a taste of your own medicine. Bitter. 

He had probably used you and would laugh about it with his friends. This feeling increased the moment you saw that beautiful creature devouring his neck and touching him lustfully. You clenched your fists at the sight of it and regretted not cutting his throat when you had the occasion. In the end, he was like any other fae, directed by his impulses. You went to the closest table and grabbed a drink. You coughed a little because of the high amount of alcohol. And this is how you joined the dancers, well decided not to cry over that mouth-of-nectar. He wanted to play that game ? Oh, you wouldn’t loose and seeing him almost crawling in your direction gave you some smugness. 

« Y/N. » he called out, trying to get your attention as you ignored him thoroughly. People were on his way and he started to push them away brutally — getting death glares — as you danced away from him, still in your lure’s arms. Even if his gaze was blurred by the light fabric covering it, you could tell the same anger was burning inside his eyes, the same one you had witnessed when he discovered the trickery you had played on him. Finally reaching the both of you, the pixy stopped, trying to keep his composure. « May I ? » he asked the man, showing his palm. « Can’t you see I’m… » your partner was about to protest until he saw who he was talking to. Hyunjin was giving him a beautiful grin but not a single cell of his body seemed welcoming. « Lord Hwang I… My apologies, the lady is yours. » he sheepishly said. The pixy looked at him leaving and his smile instantly faded once the man was out of sight. You rolled your eyes and tried to escape but he strongly grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him. 

« You suddenly remember me, Hwang Hyunjin ? » you scoffed, annoyed to not be able to detach your eyes from his. He intertwined his fingers with yours, making you twirl. You were stunning in that dress. It was visibly made of a pearly shaded silk where actual pearls delicately dangled on your chest and arms, like rain drops. A similar mask was adorning your face. It gave you a strong aura and suited the hint of purple in your eyes. « Why are you doing this to me, half-blood ? » he whispered in your ear. Feeling his breath against your face gave you goosebumps. 

« D-doing what ? » 

Damn it! You couldn’t help but stuttered and he smirked. 

« Playing with my feelings all the time. » he replied. Oh wow! So, it was your fault. 

« I’m the one playing ? You seemed to have a good time with that freshwater slut earlier. » you spat, unable to restrain your venom. He recoiled, surprised. 

« Are you talking about Xylia ? I actually pushed her away because I wanted her to be you. » he grumbled. You felt his nails digging into the tenderness of your waist, giving you a small ache. « And you think I’m going to believe you after you broke your promise. I bet you told all your friends how you made a fool out of me, letting me think I had won. »

Your words annoyed him and he frowned. This is what you thought and why you were doing all of this, trying to make him jealous and it worked. His wings started to tickle and his mouth was reduced to a thin line. 

« You truly think I’m a monster when you’re the one who started all of this. » he stated calmly. Surprised, you looked at him but you couldn’t say he was wrong… 

« What do you want from me Y/N ? » 

His intense gaze made you look away and you were glad the mask was hiding your cheekbones which were probably red. You weren’t going to say how much his loss hurt you, how addicted you had become after only one day together. You had too much ego for that. Gulping, you came closer to his ear and murmured, « Prove me I’m wrong, prove that you sincerely desire me. »

He put a halt to your dance, weighing the pros and cons of your demand. Accepting would go against his resolutions, yet, it couldn’t let you insult him without giving you a lesson. « Your wish is my command. » he replied with a sly smile. 

Cutting through the crowd, he guided you upstairs. You weren’t surprised to see some wasted people laying on the floor or hearing laughs coming from other rooms. What surprised you is how easily he found the entry of a boudoir room. Must not have been his first time coming here which made your body get tensed. 

It was small and pretty. The furnitures were scanty. An alcove full of fluffy pillows and beautifully crafted blankets overhung by a large window offering a night view of the garden. A meridian couch and a coffee table, few decorations. You removed your mask, wanting to face him correctly. You looked even more gorgeous and he could feel his body warming up. He carefully locked the door and walked towards you, trapping you against the edge of the alcove and himself. The sudden proximity made your core ache. You wanted to touch him badly but he was the one who had to prove something. After all, he accepted the challenge. 

« Well. Tell me Hyunjin, are we going to stay like that or are you actually going to do something ? » you teased. He scoffed, letting his hand run along your thigh and going up your breast to grasp the dangling pearls. He played with it, looking at the light reflecting on it. Your breathe was faint, anticipating. Not bothering to lift his head up, he spoke 

« I will make you mine, Y/N. You will be my thing, my doll and you will never dare to flirt with some idiots ever again. » You frowned. His thing ? You would never let that happen. 

« You’re all blabbering but you dont act much and, most importantly, you don’t own me. » 

What you thought would be a nice time was turning into an upsetting one. This was ridiculous and, despite your aroused state, you needed to leave. Obviously, the young pixy didn’t let you go, pulling hard on the pearls and making the threads holding them break as they fell on the ground. 

« Really ? » 

You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking because of the tulle and you wanted him to get rid of it. Before you could complain about it, he grabbed your butt and made you sit on the alcove. Adroitly, he left your dress up so that your bottom was fully exposed. « I’m sure of… » you couldn’t finish your sentence, feeling his thin fingers sliding down your folds. You gripped his shoulders and moaned on his neck. He removed his hand, looking at your glimmering arousal and said with a husky voice « Seems like your pussy is telling me otherwise. »

You felt tears forming in your eyes. Why your body had to betray you like this ? You bit your lip, sulking. However, Hyunjin didn’t plan to give you any rest. 

« You wanted to know how much I desire you, uh ? » he growled, leaving incandescent kisses on your jaw and neck. You hummed, too concentrated on his touch. 

« Speak. » he ordered. 

« Yes. » 

A smirk appeared on his face as he closed the gap between the two of you. You sighed in relief, finally feeling his lips on yours, it tasted like green wine. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your core meeting the fabric of his pants where you could feel is hard-on. He grabbed the back of your hair, making your head fall backward. He missed your scent, the softness of your skin and he absolutely wanted to ruin you. 

You tried to find some friction but he was holding you back strongly. The tip of his nose brushed against the crook of your neck when you felt his warm and wet tongue tracing lines on it. « Hyunjin, please… »

As an answer, he harshly sucked on your skin. The pain made a small cry escape your mouth. Fuck. He was bolder than the first time, getting comfortable around you. You heard a pop when he let your sensitive take some rest. 

« Satisfied ? » he asked. Oh, he had to be joking right now. 

« Not at all. » you answered, sulking. His laugh revealed his teeth, making him low-key predatory. 

« Always greedy. » he sighed. His fingers caressed the pulsing point of your neck, travelling down to the valley of your breast to finally reach where you needed him the most. He cupped your sex, making you mewl. « This belongs to me. » 

You wanted to protest but the pressure he was applying on your clit was driving you crazy, his thumb forming small eight figures on it. 

« Say it. » You resisted, shutting your eyes and digging your nails into his shoulders. Loosing his patience, he inserted a first digit inside you. You moaned his name loudly and Hyunjin had to take deep breaths not to fuck you raw.

« I-it’s yours. » you panted. 

He dipped another finger inside your dripping pussy. « Again. » 

« It’s yours, I’m yours. » you chocked when you felt his digits curling. 

« See. It wasn’t that difficult to admit it. » he mocked, his lips crashing against yours. You bit on his lower lip, making him grunt, soon met by an iron taste. The black haired man lightly jumped, his wings quivering. 

« Behave. » he whispered. « I’m sorry… I got carried away. » you immediately apologized, afraid that he would stop. Unfortunately, what you feared inevitably happened. After few more pumps, he could notice how lightheaded you were, how your walls were getting tighter. However, he didn’t want you to come around his fingers. You whined. 

« Keep going, please. I was so close. »

« I know. » he sighed. « But it’s my turn now. » He stepped back a little, putting you back on your feet as he was taking your place and unzipping his pants. He looked sinfully handsome. Totally absorbed by the view, you didn’t notice how he made you kneel down before him. His length was right in front of your eyes, precum glittering on its top. You licked your lips. « Suck on it. » 

Another order you gladly complied to. Him towering you like this, in all his glory, was another type of turn on. You delicately seized his dick before giving him some kitten licks. He let out a loud moan, his hands gripping the edge of the alcove, his knuckles turning white. 

« Stop playing. » he huffed. Searching for his gaze, you seductively put his member into your mouth, your lips perfectly fitting around it. Damn it. He would never be able to avoid you after seeing you like that. The sensation of your tongue twirling around his shaft, the delicious pressure every time you sucked on him. Gripping your hair he gave you light thrusts, until he couldn't stop his increasing pace, the tip of dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. Tears formed on the corner of your eyes and your jaw started to ache so you had to make him stop. Both out-of-breath, he helped you to stand up, your legs being sore from the kneeling position.

« You did amazing, sugar. But don't you think it would be too bad for me not to come inside you ? » he mused, cupping your chin.

« I want you all. » you whined, already lifting your gown up. It made him chuckle, his eyes turning into crescent moons. Wanting to be more comfortable, he finally removed his cloak and mask. You never thought it would make such a big difference but everything seemed more intense now. You could perfectly admire his features, his dark eyes, the mole under his left one. Something was new, though. You carefully approached your hand from the bruise on his face. You frowned and asked « What happened ? ».

He had totally forgotten about it. He put your hand down and made you turn around. « Nothing much, now bend over. » You started to ask more questions but got easily distracted when he unlaced your dress, letting it slip on your naked body. You felt the palm of his left hand applying pressure on your bare back so that your torso was totally flat against the pillows and blankets of the alcove. He cupped your butt cheeks, slightly spreading them to look at your dripping core. You couldn't see what he was doing, only hearing some wet sounds. Hyunjin pumped himself hastily and, without any warning, penetrated you. You being soaking wet helped him a little but you were so tight that it was difficult for him to put his whole length inside. Gripping your waist firmly, he started with light thrusts, growling with any frictions.

The stretch was a bit painful at first, still, you quickly got accustomed to it, your butt trying to meet his hips and loving how he manhandled you. Seeing you so desperate to feel his dick made him salivate. He could see the side of your face as you bit on your lips, trying to muffle your noisy whimpers. You looked so fucked up and gorgeous at the same time. Inch by inch, he finally buried the totality of his shaft inside you, immediately hitting your sweet spot. « Fuck... Y/N... » one thrust, « I told you... » two... « You are meant to be mine. » His pace was increasing as you nodded, unable to create a proper sentence, your hips continuously hitting against the wooden edge of the alcove. The mixed pain and pleasure made you press your legs together, which didn't go unnoticed. Growling louder, Hyunjin bent over you to get a new angle, his thrusts becoming sloppy and slower. You felt one of his hand sliding down your heat to work on your clit.

« Hyunjin... » you mewl on his touch.

Surrounded by your scent and moans, he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle it much longer, going feral as he fed your eager cunt.

« You feel so good. Even better than last time » he praised, probably because this time he was the one dominating. This statement sent electricity down your spine, your walls clenching dangerously.

« Hyunie, I'm really close... » you cried, your voice barely above a whisper. « Hold on for me, half-blood. » the pixy commanded. You simply nodded and grabbed the blankets under you. You couldn't think straight anymore. You were fighting against the threatening wave of pleasure increasing with each powerful thrust, each change of pace. He was doing you good, too good for your own sanity. You could feel his weight on top of you, his arms caging your torso, leaving faint bruises. Wet sounds were echoing in the small room, sounds of your sweaty bodies rubbing against each other, sounds of sinful sex. His breath was becoming hectic and heavier, your walls so warm and narrow that he felt sucked in.

« Fuck ! » shaking over you, he relieved his seeds inside you, coating your core white. The euphoric wave wouldn't stop as he kept feeding his high, throbbing inside you and spiraling into delicious bliss. Unable to hold back anymore, you were on the very edge of your climax when you felt him pulling out. Stunned, you were left clenching around nothing, your core aching.

« W-what ? » you asked, confused. You fell on the floor, too weak to stand up properly. Hyunjin was already dressing himself up, styling his hair and tying his cloak. Once ready, he took his mask and crouched down to meet your eyes. A smirk was adorning his face.

« Consider this a payback for last time. » he said with his husky voice, preparing to get up « Oh! Before I leave, don't forget that I better not catch you in the arms of someone else than me. » he was towering you, looking down on you and your submissive position. He caressed your cheeks as anger was suddenly knocking your brain, your brows furrowed and eyes darkening. Without a word he turned around and left the room. He put his mask back on, satisfied as he heard his steps and your raging scream echoing on the corridor.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin fic #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fairy #smut #smut fic #smut fairy au #fairy au #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #stray kids au #fluff #angst #elfhame au

[mockstarling]

Au where the Waynes have to make a reality TV show because people get too close to finding out who they are. Everyone develops their public persona as follows.

Brucie Wayne:

Wears makeup all the time.

Really clumsy but has a quick reaction time regarding when his kids are about to fight. Yes, he can sense it from the other side of the house.

Mama bear, will panic if someone gets as much as a papercut.

Always wears dark colors because if he wears anything else he always manages to get them dirty somehow.

Will sing to pop songs, gets all the lyrics wrong except the chorus.

Glitter. He always wears at least one thing that is glittery at all times. He also uses a glittery bat-themed pencil pouch in his office (cass got it for him as a joke).

Kathy Kane:

A gay aunt icon.

Fashionable but in a classy way/simple enough to still fight if needed.

Will physically attack one of Bruce's kids to "prepare them for if they get kidnapped".

Damian's favorite, he will go ask her for permission first instead of Bruce. She typically allows him before looking at the camera like 'this is about to be good'.

Is one of the best at giving advice.

Will not hesitate to argue with Bruce's friends (the Justice League in their civilian personas) with the passion of a kid who wants ice cream.

Dick Grayson:

Nice older brother type/has answered to "mom" on screen multiple times before.

Knows all Disney songs by heart and will start singing them as his brothers fight.

The one who posts the most on social media and believes they're "in with the kids".

Is in college but tries his best to make time with his family.

Recites vines with passion as he burns everything in th kitchen.

Always wears "rich people clothing that compliments his best features".

Jason Todd:

Was announced alive before the show started so he's been here since season one and may or may not be the reason that they had to start the show in the first place because people were like, "oh, he could be Red Hood. . . wait".

He's normally the one who starts shit/drama on the show.

He has some of the best comebacks out of his brothers. And yes, most of them are along the lines of, "I died, bitch! I'll kill us both and drag you to hell myself! They love me there, unlike some people!"

Claims he doesn't remember what happened those years he was "dead" and says that he still have bad memory problems to get out of doing stuff because he "forgot".

Plays into the bad boy/street kid stereotypes.

Tends to yell a lot/doesn't have an inside voice for shit.

Tim Drake:

Tired heir to the Wayne family business.

Gets physically thrown around by his brothers (mainly Jason) the most.

Is intelligent but tends to mess up on the simplest things.

Always has coffee on him and when he doesn't he is either going to fight someone or pull a prank.

Is always working on "school" (cases).

Tends to wear more normal clothing because it's most comfortable but he has been know to fall asleep in full on suits before.

Stephanie Brown:

Sings the most out of everyone.

Will never hesitate to tip off one of the Waynes about another one if food is involved.

Is always trying new clothing styles and has rearrange their room the most.

Is the type to try something because they saw it on social media.

Is a ray of sun shine when compared to everyone else.

Is the best at jokes.

Cassandra Cain:

Communicates by sign language when she gets too frustrated/overwhelmed.

Dances the best out of anyone so no one ever challenges her.

Is a silent threat when it comes to pranks.

Has been caught mid-heist (when trying to sneak food from the kitchen) by the crew.

Has successfully stolen the most of Bruce's stuff.

Is the most common one to get tea first because everyone in the family likes her enough to rant about the others.

Duke Thomas:

Will not hesitate to pick cass's side in any argument.

Started a war between the Wayne Brothers without them putting together that he started it until that season was out.

The one who always make sure everyone eats.

Has pulled the most pranks on Bruce's friends (the Justice League's cilvilian personas) because they mistakenly took him out to be the most collected out of the bats.

The one who has the best insider information when shit goes down.

No one knows for sure if he's a Wayne but he has a room in the manor and is always there so people just assume Bruce took in another one.

Damian Wayne:

Took it upon himself to look the best out of all his siblings so he spend days researching on social media outfit ideas and how to do makeup because he's "better than everyone else".

Has showed an interests in fighting with weapons, the arts, and history.

Was very quickly assigned the "furry baby dad" title from fans because of the amount of pets he has.

Is still an angry baby but the family has found that he actually explains his side of stuff to the camera really well.

Experiences the most character development throughout the show as it takes place during his teenage years.

Has been caught uses "baby voice" when interacting with his pets.

#dc comics #dc #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #kathy kane #brucie wayne #jason todd #stephenie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #batfamily dynamics #batfamily

[hermesserpent-stuff]

They are watching their older brothers get into shenaniganery.

@sarnai4 @melodramaticmuse

#viggo grimborn #hiccup haddock #httyd #httyd au #stolen heir au #hermes art #digital art

[teddie-bear420]

Swap Au!! I call it “cold hazbin hotel”

Emily moonstone wants to redeem sinners and get to heaven with the help of her butler lute!

Lots of doodles and ramblings under the cut,

if you have any input or jokes or questions send them to me!!

So this swap starts at the very beginning! Lucifer is a big goodie two shoes who doesn’t express his real feelings and is kinda just heavens doormat. Sera on the other hand is driven by fairness and when she sees Adam mistreating Lilith she intervenes. This gets her sent down to hell with Lilith and they start ruling hell with all the sinners. At some point both Lilith and sera stop caring about the state of hell and the sinners establish the overlords that rule territory’s and all that. Around the time that Emily is born sinners like alastor and husk are well established overlords.

Back in heaven, corruption spreads to leadership and Lucifer (as head archangel) kinda just lets it happen. He still runs the show but he doesn’t stand up for what he believes in anymore. Very weak man, thin wrists… dainty even. Adam is still the general of the Exorcist army and nobody holds any one accountable in heaven and the requirements to get into heaven are raised to in unachievable amount!

Sera and Emily are very close, they talk almost everyday, when Emily starts to grow into an adult sera kinda panics and strains the relationship (Emily’s got mommy issues). Emily’s time spent in sin city leads her to starting the hotel with the Dino chick to hinder the overpopulation in hell (jk she just really wants to see heaven)

So Emily is the heir to a stolen kingdom

Lucifer still has Charlie in heaven and she fills Emily’s role of keeping everyone happy. In this swap he shelters Charlie for any hardships or even having her work for anything, so Charlie is a nepotism baby (in the normal show Charlie went no contact with her dad and built the hotel ground up) her job is to keep everyone joyful!

Charlie is ignorant to the horrors

Vaggie and lute are a little harder to explain cuz I still have no real idea how to approach making lute a sinner cuz uhh.. she already is one. I do know I wanna keep her antennae bangs…Pink to blue….Bug motif…Transition allegory?? You decide

Lute will probably have butler butch vibes, she’s very servant like

But! I see vaggie getting to second in command and becoming a beast. The most ruthless demon slayer ever man, she fights the biggest demons she can find just for the fun of it. She still bulks up (you can take buff vaggie from my cold dead hands)!! She is assigned to protect the arch angel Charlie from quote…

“naughty individuals” -Lucifer (he means Adam)

Their dynamic is very silly, vaggie has to keep Charlie safe from things like assassins, perverts, technology and a goose. We all know that lute struck vaggie down cuz she was gay right? Well that still happens, but vaggie wins the fight (also being egged on by Adam) and ever since she’s looked for a fight so bad she ends up joining lute (warriors bond and all that)

EMILY IS A LAWYER HAHAHAHAHHA AND A BUTCH

Basically she wants to change the heaven standard the lawful way (sera was a court judge after all) think musicals like legally blond, that one Hamilton song, and the death note musical.

She and Charlie get along well enough, it does gag Emily when she finds out that Charlie doesn’t know what a minimum wage job is.

Ok so the main cast gets swapped with the over lords as you can see, the overlords I chose now look much younger, tho carmilla and Rosie are my milfs forever. Velvet is now an intern trying to get out of hell (she hates the heat) vox is now kinda just an obsessive fan boy, carmilla wants to go to heaven to see her daughters again. That Dino chick is the first guest, Emily wants to tame her inner fire (girl style)

Emily has always wanted to see the garden of Eden, so when she comes up with a way to redeem sinners she hopes to visit heaven with them! I’m gonna doodle around with her demon bits,

THATS IT FOR NOW

Will maybe post more

#teddz stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #charlie morningstar #vaggie #hazbin hotel emily #charlie x vaggie #lute x emily #swap au #cold hazbin hotel

[muxshwriting]

money, money, money

modern!au Aleksander Morozova x reader

summary: marrying the heir to the morozova fortune was for so much more than the money || warnings: Baghra is a bitch || words: 1078 || masterlist

Aleksander Morozova was the prolific heir to the Morozova fortune, despite a very public argument with his mother. His grandfather, Ilya Morozova first gained fame through his inventions aimed at helping the ‘average man’. Of course, his inventions weren’t the beginning. His true wealth was stolen from the collapsing Soviet Union after Ilya took his family to America to live the dream. Nonetheless, his American dream was realised in the founding of Morozova Industries.

There was no doubting that Ilya Morozova was a very influential person in the technological industry, often being the forbearer to the most successful methods and practices. When Baghra took over the majority of Morozova Industries, she changed several things, aiming the inventions at the upper classes of society and neglecting the working class man that Ilya had once helped. These changes brought in the millions that made the Morozova’s a family name. Even Ilya couldn’t argue against his daughter’s methods, they were very rewarding.

But Baghra had fallen for a man who didn’t care about success and longevity, just the money it brought in. He married Baghra for her money but she was too in love to care. That was until he left her with a five year old Aleksander and took half of everything she worked so hard to earn.

But when Aleksander came of age and was being trained to take over the company, he held a very different view than his mother. He was much more similar to his grandfather, wanting to help everyone, not just the highest bidders. Aleksander did not keep his opinions private. He often spoke to the press about what he would like to change when he was head of the company.

Baghra hated Aleksander. He was trying to destroy everything she had created, spend all the money she had made. Ilya, on the other hand, loved his grandson and professed his wishes until his dying breath, leaving everything to Aleksander. See, despite running the company, Baghra did not own Morozova Industries. So when Ilya sadly passed away, the company and its control was immediately passed to Aleksander.

His retribution was swift and imminent. A month later, Baghra had nothing left and Aleksander had everything he wanted. Then he met you…

You, an owner to another tech company. It wasn’t anything big, but you had built that company from the ground up and perfected your craft. It was your wish to collaborate with Morozova to create and distribute your products to a wider audience than you could do alone.

You had captured his attention immediately. It wasn’t just your proposal, which encapsulated the values Aleksander valued most, but it was simply you. He asked you out for drinks after the meeting, wishing to know you better. As your collaboration continued, the drinks turned into dinners, dinners turned into evenings at your apartments (Aleksander’s penthouse and your meagre two-bed). Those evenings became something you looked forward to and they only seemed to increase in frequency. You now had a spare change of clothes at Aleksander’s in case you spent the night there.

It was all so natural that nothing changed after you stopped working together. You still stopped by with his coffee every morning and his thank you’s eventually changed to small pecks on the cheek to a small kiss on your lips. There was no need to rush into things, no need to panic. Love was easy when you let it be.

It’s one night in bed with Aleks that he rolls over and whispers into your hair. "Let’s get married."

You don’t even have to think. Love was easy, after all. "Yes."

Aleksander initially thinks it should be a grand affair, a day to celebrate you and him. However, the more he thinks, the more he despises that idea. He just wants to celebrate you. There doesn’t need to be anything huge beyond a few select friends and a perfect time. That perfect time occurs when you find yourselves in Las Vegas for a tech conference. All your friends, as owners and stakeholders of other companies, are there with you.

"Let’s get married now. Fuck waiting."

You glance around, nodding. "Everyone’s here that you want?" You’re silently asking him if he wants Baghra here but he’s made up his mind.

"I’ll text Ivan and David, if you can call the girls?"

You nod, barely holding back a smile before taking off down the hotel corridors back to your room. The girls all answer the group call and you share the exciting news.

"Aleks and I are getting married here in Vegas, we’d love you all to come?"

The screams down the phone are coming from Alina and Genya as Zoya simply laughs at their antics. "We’ll all be there, don’t you worry."

You pull a simple white dress from your luggage, meant for a party night but perfect for your impromptu wedding. You know Aleksander will do something more formal back home where you can wear your dream dress, so you’re not too worried. The girls are waiting for you in the foyer and Genya has somehow sprouted a bouquet for you.

The chapel is quaint but it’s the man at the end of the aisle that you’re focused on. You can barely hear the officiant pronounce you husband and wife before he’s pulling you close and smashing your lips to his. That night is the craziest thing you’ve ever seen, you visited every bar along the strip, dancing until your feet ached and spending the whole time immeasurably happy.

Two weeks later, Aleksander comes home later than usual. "Darling?"

"Yes?"

His expression is grave. "The Vegas pictures got leaked."

Then the headlines arrived:

MILLIONAIRE MOROZOVA MARRIES COMPETITOR Y/L/N IN SECRET VEGAS WEDDING

SHOCK: MOROZOVA HEIR OFF THE MARRIAGE MARKET TO RIVAL BUSINESS OWNER

MOROZOVA MARRIED: WHO IS THE NEW MONEY-HUNGRY MRS?

You’re scrolling through the news stories that have popped up in a matter of hours. "I guess the world knows."

"My mother has already called." He says, grimacing. "She lectured me about how you’re using me for money like my father did with her before I could put the phone down."

"Did she realise that I owned my own successful business for years before I even met you?"

He hums. "She never was the smartest woman alive."

You nod with him, kissing him sweetly. "It’ll never be about the money with you Sasha. You’re more than that."

Money, it’s a rich man’s world.

AHHH, finally something that's not based on hozier. I am however revealing my deep-rooted love for ABBA now

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #grishaverse #modern!au #muxsh #muxshwriting #money money money #ben barnes x reader #ban barnes

[phoenixgrl1412]

Jazz is Damian's bio sibling, not Danny

I see tons of Demon Twin AUs, and I love them, but I started to wonder about what the universe would look like if Jazz was Damian's sister.

Not sure what her birth name in this AU would be (Yasmin? Yasmina? Something else) so I'm going to just refer to her as Jazz.

I'm thinking that Jazz was attempt #1 at getting the perfect heir, and for whatever reason, she was deemed to be inferior. Is there something actually wrong with her? No, but Ra's is an asshole. If you'd like to go a more sexist route, Jazz could be unworthy because she's female (in this AU, Ra's keeps Talia around to make an heir, not to be the heir).

Despite not being the perfect child they wanted, Talia and Ra's train Jazz until they are able to try again. She's taught as if she was the heir, even though everyone knows she isn't, because there isn't a better choice at the moment.

When Jazz is three, Damian is born. Damian is her little brother and she loves him as best she can, but Damian is raised to treat her as inferior, and it shows. Everyone looks down on her, especially Ra's, and that attitude is the example Damian follows.

Jazz is still trained, because if nothing else she could still be an assassin, but no one holds out much hope for her. She isn't as talented as Damian, even though she's older. She's not as strong or as stealthy or as cutthroat. She is more clever, but she is older than him, so it's brushed off. Besides, good assassin soldiers don't need to be clever, they just need to obey.

But where Damian excels in the physical arts, Jazz excels at the mind arts. Solving puzzles, recognizing patterns, psychoanalyzing her opponents to predict their moves - that's what she's good at. It's clearly inherited from Batman (no one can explain her red hair, though).

When Jazz is eight and Damien is five, Jazz flees the League. Why and how is your choice. Maybe Damian is supposed to kill her in a show of superiority. Maybe Talia helps her fake her death and escape as a final act of motherly love. Maybe Jazz flees on her own, wanting to be something else even if she doesn't know what.

Jazz makes it to America, and then to a little podunk town in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, called Amity Park. She meets the Fenton parents and their almost six-year-old son, Danny. And somehow, they take her in. And for a while, it's the family she wished she had, with loving parents and a little brother who didn't want to stab her.

Danny isn't Damian. He isn't a replacement. She knows that they aren't the same. They are radically different, even if they both make her want to cuddle and love them (at least Danny doesn't try to stab her for doing it). She can miss Damian and what could have been while embracing what she has found.

And for a while, she's happy.

Sure, she didn't expect her little brother (Danny is her Little Brother, Damian is her Baby Brother, there has been and will always be a difference to her) to die and come back, but she's seen weirder stuff when she was in the League.

She also didn't expect Danny to use his newfound powers to become a hero, but it's his choice, and she's going to support him. At least she has her League training to fall back on, even if she's a bit rusty.

And yeah, she was hoping that her adoptive parents would take Danny's halfa status a lot better than they did, but she'd always known it wasn't going to end well. She's always been good at recognizing behavioral patterns, and theirs said nothing good. But she'd hoped, for Danny's sake, that she would be wrong.

She never thought she would flee for her life for a second time, but here she is, driving a stolen car with her unconscious and bleeding brother in the backseat, heading towards the one place she swore she would never set foot in: Gotham.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #jazz is damian's older sister #danny is a year older than damian #i have no idea where i was going with this but have it anyway #damian never mentioned his sister to the batfam #jazz doesn't know bruce wayne is batman #or that damian escaped the league and is with batman #batfam expecting jazz to be damian 2.0 and stab tim #in a twist of events danny is the stabby one once he wakes up #he does not like billionaires and is not pleased to wake up in one's house #one of the batkids gets close to danny while he's unconscious and danny sleep stabs in self-defense #jazz taught him that #batfam thinks danny is the secret sibling at first #they think jazz is too well adjusted to be from the league #jazz is the bio kid #danny is the adoption bait

[undercoverbastard]

Judging a Derek by His Cover

“Seriously? You have to ask?” Stiles asked, in a bit of a disbelieving tone. “I mean I-... have you seen you? Resisting you sounds impossible, Derek, I mean seriously. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would tell you no if you gave them even a second look that’s- that’s impossible, you’re-”

Derek had already begun to tune out, a sick feeling crawling from the pit of his stomach upwards. He had grabbed for his shoes, fumbling slightly as he slid them on, in the middle of Stiles’ rambling. Before the other could continue, Derek waved away the rest with a nod.

“Right, right - you’re not… blind,” Derek interrupted. Stiles seemed a bit stunned at the overly neutral tone. Moving past Stiles without looking him properly in the eye, Derek mumbled about needing to get ready. Stiles attempted to stop him, his voice going low once the door opened, but it was of no use.

+.+.+

OR: a fic from the vaults, inspired by modern-day royalty au, derek’s penchant for being sought after just for his looks, and im not sure what else was going on in my brain at the time tbh

Word Count: 4387

———

“I have to get ready,” Derek said, pushing himself up and out of the bed. He sighed, sitting on the edge, staring at his hands a bit blankly. He wished he could freeze time - stay in moments like these. These moments are stolen in between chores and tasks, family and staff. He didn’t want to have to leave.

“Oh?” Stiles asked, stretching out lazily, tucking his hands behind his head. “What’s on the agenda today, sir prince?”

The tone was teasing but it made Derek cringe. Another reminder. He didn’t hate his position or his family or his people or any of it - he loved Beacon and his family was amazing and he adored being able to be a part of what made all of it. But, his position - his title - came with limitations. Expectations.

“Some gathering,” Derek mumbled, ducking his head a bit lower, “my mom says it’s in celebration of the peace treaties - ten years this week. But…”

“But…?” Stiles prompted, moving to curl behind Derek, his chin resting on a pillow as he gazed up at the other’s face. Derek cut his eyes to the side, letting the slightest of smiles curve across his lips before it fell off again. That was another one of Stiles’ talents - his ability to make Derek laugh and smile, no matter the day or its events.

“But,” Derek gathered a deep breath, “she’s been hinting at… socializing, at dating. She keeps bringing up names and countries and heirs and… I don’t know. She keeps mentioning Braeden and just…”

Stiles moved away, crawling up to a sitting position himself. Derek cast a look back at the other, waiting for some sort of response. It took a minute, Stiles facing away from him and seemingly fiddling with his shirt and hair. When he turned back he had a wide grin, cheeky and teasing.

“Oh you’ll do fine, Der, who could ever resist you? Huh?” Stiles said, giving him a nod of appreciation. It made Derek’s throat dry up, a reminder creeping in.

“Resist me…” Derek repeated a bit dumbly, staring now to the side of Stiles’ head, looking unseeingly out the window on the opposite side of the room. He heard Stiles give a huff of laughter, saw the shaking of his head from his peripheral.

“Obviously,” Stiles scoffed, “they’d have to be blind!” And that’s when Derek’s blood ran a bit cold, color draining from his face ever so slightly. “Anyways, I should - uh- get going. Let you get ready for the party and all that.”

Stiles stood up, fingers carding through his hair before tugging at and smoothing down his shirt. They’d laid lazily in the spare room for hours, taking turns carding fingers through one another’s hair, biting lingering kisses into one another’s lips, straddling each other’s laps as they got lost in the quietness disturbed only by soft groans and gasps. It had been bliss, those couple hours together. It was one of the only times Derek didn’t feel like he was on display or out of place to some degree. It felt right. Comfortable.

Staying quiet, Derek watched as Stiles stood up, slipping his shoes back on and fretting over his clothes again. He was always busy, mind and body in constant motion even if it didn’t make sense. It used to infuriate Derek when Stiles first began working in the library - he could never focus with the other’s mumbles and murmurs and humming and moving. It was chaotic in the smallest of ways. Now, though, he felt restless if Stiles didn’t move - his skin felt prickled if the younger man stayed still too long, a wrongness about it.

Before Stiles could open the door and sneak a look outside before he darted out, Derek asked, “Why didn’t you?”

Stiles paused, looking at the other in confusion and a half tilt of his head. “Why… why didn’t you resist me or - turn me down? Why?” Derek elaborated. His voice held steady and sounded normal but his heart was lodged in his throat and the tips of his fingers felt numb.

The question at least gave Stiles pause. He stepped back closer in the room, an incredulous look on his face once his mind seemed to catch up. He began waving, hands exaggeratedly emphasizing the length of Derek’s form still sitting on the bed before he gave an answering huff.

“Seriously? You have to ask?” Stiles asked, in a bit of a disbelieving tone. “I mean I-... have you seen you? Resisting you sounds impossible, Derek, I mean seriously. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would tell you no if you gave them even a second look that’s- that’s impossible, you’re-”

Derek had already begun to tune out, a sick feeling crawling from the pit of his stomach upwards. He had grabbed for his shoes, fumbling slightly as he slid them on, in the middle of Stiles’ rambling. Before the other could continue, Derek waved away the rest with a nod.

“Right, right - you’re not… blind,” Derek interrupted. Stiles seemed a bit stunned at the overly neutral tone. Derek always spoke in an even manner, known for being a bit brasher in his tone than others but fairly neutral and even overall - it was a mark of the Hale family, after all. To be balanced in all ways. He couldn’t risk being too nice or too rude. He may toe the line of overly curt and brash but he was never outright cold with his words. But even he could hear it - the change in his voice. It was exceptionally vague - not a hint of brashness. He was as even as his mother in her political discussions - unreadable.

Moving past Stiles without looking him properly in the eye, Derek mumbled about needing to get ready. Stiles attempted to stop him, his voice going low once the door opened, but it was of no use. Even the soft touch to Derek’s shoulder as he stepped out slid off with just a single step, allowing the steadily growing wall between them to commence.

Derek tried not to think about it. Shoved the thoughts out of his mind as he left the mostly empty hall and trailed back to his own room. He shouldn’t have thought Stiles would be interested in anything else besides his looks. It was, after all, his saving grace. After Kate’s stunt years back, most people averted their eyes - unable to meet Derek’s. It lingered with some, but it only took a year or two at most before he was once more a display.

Giggling visitors from other countries bashfully complimented him on how handsome he was, eyes raking up and down his body at parties and celebrations. Tabloids posted dozens of photos whenever he left the palace - endless remarks of his looks and how well clothes fit him and how others were sure the good looks didn’t stop at just his face pouring from every media outlet in the country and even in others.

He was used to it. He smiled his practiced smile, knew when to bow his head and murmur thanks. He was used to the squeezes to his bicep when being requested to dance and the lingering eyes of his partners. But that was it. Even Kate had said so when she still played the part of smitten girlfriend.

She’d tease him for his quiet nature and his lack of ability to feed into normal conversations. He could talk policy as needed and he had a plethora of books surrounding philosophers, history, and even art at his disposal - but they were drab topics outside of negotiations and proper business. And even if the analysis of Picasso’s The Old Guitarist was one Derek found interesting and showed the necessity of the arts and their value to civilizations old and new, Kate didn’t want to hear about it. Besides, even with his most impassioned topics on the table he still was a man of few words. Part of that came from being the son of the reigning Queen of Beacon, another part came from Kate’s backhanded nature.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Derek earned his keep with his looks. He was a nice face to look at and a figure that harnessed desire. Either no one cared what else he might be able to offer or his lack of personality drove them back to their distanced gazes. Just because Stiles could quote at least one line from every book Derek has ever picked up since he started working in the library and just because Stiles had enough words for five people let alone a conversation of two didn’t mean he wouldn’t be the same.

It was to be expected.

+.+.+

Several hours later found Derek in one of his more casual attires but one fit for a prince nonetheless. The party and celebration were not one for hosting political affairs - they were for rejoicing. Sure, it was shared amongst several other visiting countries, and the sprawling room and subsequent halls were filled with faces far and wide, but none of them came to talk about further negotiations, treaties, or trade options. They all came to eat, dance, and laugh - embracing the decade’s worth of peace since King Christopher took his father’s place in Silvenia and ended the wars and trade blocks.

Derek stood off to the side, doing his best to obscure himself as much as possible in the throng of people. He’d eaten, he’d talked to his family, and he’d even danced with several people. He had done his share, he thought. This was meant to be enjoyed, and he enjoyed being alone.

He couldn’t, however, forever hide from Braeden. He’d seen his mother walking with her, laughing. His mother’s eyes seemed to search the crowd, trying to find him, and he did his best to slink away before she caught a whiff of his location. He’d done a good job so far, but he knew it was a fruitless endeavor to try and avoid her all night. It had only been two hours and the celebration would more than likely go well into the night. His mother would find him eventually.

Musing the odds of success if he were to try and slink away to his room or possibly to the gardens for a couple of hours to avoid detection a bit longer, Derek zoned out momentarily - unaware of his surroundings. He acknowledged the movement of others, the change in music, but it was all background noise in his mind. Which is why it was the perfect time for him to be found.

Just not by his mother, it seemed.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, gently laying a hand on his arm, eyebrows scrunched up in concern. “You okay?”

Shaking himself out of his clouded thoughts, Derek nodded and went to pull away from Stiles’ touch - planning to test out his garden escape. He should’ve been looking out for the man. After all, Stiles has been a regular attendee of nearly all the Hale family’s gatherings and parties for over 10 years. His father was now the Head of Palace Guards and his mother had once overseen the library he now worked in. Stiles’ presence was all but guaranteed between his two parents both working in the palace on a daily basis. Derek had just distantly hoped he wouldn’t approach him here - similar to all previous events.

“Then you wouldn’t mind me asking for a dance, would you?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows now unscrunched, one raised in question as he held out his hand. Derek stared for a moment, bewildered.

In all the years Stiles had attended these gatherings, he’d never once asked to dance with Derek - he rarely spoke to him. He’d danced with Cora once or twice, the two having been closer as kids since they were the same age and Cora deciding Stiles was the perfect partner for her scheming ploys. But even now in recent times, since Derek and Stiles had begun their… whatever it was between them, he had never asked. It had been nearly a year of sneaking into hidden library corners, empty guest rooms, and ducking into stable stalls - stealing kisses, fingers unbuttoning shirts, hands roaming skin. In that same time over a handful of parties, political events, and other such gatherings had come to pass of all different magnitudes and Stiles had all but avoided Derek.

Cautiously, Derek put down the drink in his hand and laid the other in Stiles’ open palm. He let the other pull him seamlessly into the throng of moving bodies. The music wasn’t slow enough for proper dance steps but it wasn’t fast enough to deter other couples from swaying and moving across the floor together. Blessedly, Stiles moved into the crowd and guided one of Derek’s hands to his waist, clasping the other in his hand while Stiles laid his second hand on Derek’s shoulder.

No one really led in this dance, but Stiles letting him control the speed and direction was a godsend as he was sure to stumble if he had to follow. Derek was sure he had Cora to thank for that, as he recalled his younger sister demanding to be the lead and making a young, 11-year-old Stiles learn to follow in all their dance numbers. He recalls hiding smirks and laughs behind his hand and drinks, watching the two kids stumble about when Stiles accidentally went to lead them and Cora stubbornly refused to follow.

He pushed those memories aside, trying to remove the fond film he’s learned to lay over all the memories with Stiles in them. He doesn’t know when he’d begun to do it, but it was harder than he’d expected to try and stop it.

“You left kinda fast earlier,” Stiles finally murmured, voice low as his eyes danced around the room. They got a couple of second glances, those who knew of Stiles’ position a bit surprised to find the two dancing together. Sure, he danced with Cora over the years, but that was largely when they were kids and it was cute - something for the adults to coo over and take pictures of.

“Yes,” Derek answered simply. He didn’t know what Stiles wanted and he preferred to keep his cards close to his chest. Stiles huffed at the minimal response, a fond eye roll following it shortly after.

“Okay, thanks for that,” Stiles teased, “what I meant is why? Did- did I say something to upset you? Did something happen - are you okay?”

Even in shorter sentences, Stiles still somehow rambled. His tempo was a bit too fast, his tone of voice wavering and pitching in odd places, teeth biting at his lips as he came up with a dozen more thoughts - his face mirroring his reaction to each one in live action. Derek quelled the amusement he found in the mannerisms.

“Just wanted to leave.”

At this, Stiles seemed to stutter in movement, feet delayed and causing the two to stumble momentarily. Both of Derek’s hands moved to hold him at the waist, righting him before he could fall while Stiles’ hands both gripped Derek’s shoulders to help anchor himself. They found themselves closer together, the stance becoming a bit more personal and intimate than before.

“Leave… me?” Stiles whispered quietly, looking over Derek’s shoulder. Derek stayed quiet, unsure how to answer without giving too much away. “Is it because of what I said? That I’m attracted to you? Did that upset you?” It was Derek’s turn to bring a stutter to their movements, going rigid. He thankfully composed himself much quicker, only setting them off by a step at most that was easily regained.

“I don’t have an issue with you finding me attractive, Stiles,” Derek sighed, “like you said, who isn’t.”

It wasn’t a question. But he couldn’t control the bite that came out with the last two words, a bit of a sarcastic drawl underlining his words. At this, Stiles snapped his eyes to the side, looking questioningly at his dance partner. Derek didn’t explain any further, instead avoiding direct eye contact as best he could while still dancing.

“Is that…” Stiles’ words faltered, dying off. Even without looking at his face, Derek could see his thoughts play out. He swear he could hear the gears grinding in his head as he raced through all possible questions, answers, scenarios, and each of their meanings in a span of a few seconds. It would never cease to impress and exasperate Derek how Stiles thought just as quickly as he spoke - often one blending into the other without filter or regard for how his words came out.

“Der,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly a bit louder and demanding. Derek just raised his eyebrows in response, gaze still not meeting Stiles’. The younger boy huffed, hides sliding up from Derek’s shoulders to grip either side of his face and force Derek to look at him before he continued speaking. “What I said was true. I don’t know any sane person who would turn you down, but - that’s not the only reason I’m attracted to you. You know that, right? You have to know that.”

Derek swallowed the lump in his throat, giving a partial shrug to try and show his indifference on the matter. It seemed to be the wrong response, however, when Stiles growled out low in frustration, his fingers digging in a bit more into Derek’s skin and demanding his attention.

“You have to know,” he said, incredulous. “You think - what? All this time I just wanted some casual… fling? That I just saw a pretty face and that was all it took? A pretty face and I spend hours sneaking away from my work, hiding from my dad, skirting around guards?”

Stiles paused, but not long enough for Derek to actually respond. He shook his head as if in disbelief before continuing, “Is that it? You thought I just wanted to fuck around with you? Jesus Christ, how shallow do you think I am? Better yet! How stupid?! If I just wanted someone for their looks why would I go after a prince? A prince, Derek. I know we’re evolved and all but I’m sure your mom would still approve a hanging or beheading or some other medieval offing of me, fuck.”

Derek couldn’t help but crack a wry grin at Stiles’ vomit of words, head ducking down slightly as he tamped down on his laughter. The idea of his mother not only approving but requesting a beheading seemed comical - the woman was terse and poised, levelheaded beyond compare, but she was also the same woman who cried over Animal Planet at 9 PM on a Tuesday after seeing a crocodile eat a baby zebra. She blubbered about ‘the poor baby’ for half an hour, squeezing Cora into a smushed hug against her chest and all but breaking Derek’s bones as she held his hand. It was a hilarious thought, all things considered.

Stiles’ noise of exasperation broke him from his daddling thoughts, surprising Derek. Another thing Stiles was good at; even without trying, he got Derek lost in his own rambling thoughts - Stiles’ jabber and ranting offering endless avenues of thought and consideration, even if absurd. It was a nice change of pace, having something to ponder and get lost in. Something that was entertaining and not all too important that demanded his full focus or response all at once.

“Derek, I am about to make a damn fool of myself and if someone overhears this and then sees you walk away from me I think I’ll be forced to exile myself but, Jesus fuck , here it goes,” Stiles let out a long breath, eyes closing briefly before reopening and settling on Derek as if he were a target. “I am in-fucking-love with you. I love how you speak with your eyebrows and eye rolls better than any person can with words. I love how you obsessively read fucking historical books and pour over goddamn poetry and art journals. I love how you get spaced out when we talk about centuries-old plays and hundred-year-old paintings as if you can’t comprehend what they mean and are stunned by their mere existence. I love how you talk and sound like you’re thinking of murdering me and then just- laugh! And god, your laugh - I still can’t figure out if it’s your smile or your laugh that’s my favorite. And, fuck- I just… I can’t think of a single thing I don’t obsessively think about when it comes to you. And of course, of course, you’re fucking beautiful - work of art, walking god, all the usuals - but I… I just love being with you.”

They stopped dancing, coming to a halt in the middle of the mass of people. Derek is sure the song changed, people who still lingered a bit further away now going through similar steps and movements he couldn’t be bothered to recall or put a name to. He also knew they were being watched - hell, he’s sure half a dozen people caught at least half of that spiel, with Stiles’ voice raising in tone and pitch and volume like crazy throughout as if he couldn’t control it.

He felt a bit punch drunk, in a way. He didn’t know if he should be embarrassed that Stiles caught him wistfully zoning out over paintings or if he should laugh at the fact that Stiles has somehow done what not even his family has by being able to read and understand his responses just by facial expressions alone. It felt like a weight had been removed from his shoulders but his stomach felt heavy, stirring with nerves.

“You love me?” he finally asked. Stiles groaned, smacking his head against the curve of his own arm that rested against Derek’s shoulder. He was muttering and cursing quietly.

“I only repeated it about a hundred times but, yes. Yes - I love you. I am in love with you, I will figure out all the euphemisms to say it and learn it in as many languages as I can. Hell, I’ll do it old school - find a fucking boombox and sta-”

Stiles’ remaining rant cut off as Derek pulled his chin up, pressing a harsh kiss against the other’s lips. It wasn’t soft or biting, just… hard. Solid. Reassuring. Stiles helped quell the bruising press of lips by softly dragging a thumb over Derek’s cheek, the gesture making the kiss soften until they both were pulling away. Stiles looked awestruck, eyes dancing and sliding side to side to take in the room before ultimately landing once more on Derek’s face, a pleased grin taking over his face as their eyes met.

“I’ve been stupidly in love with you ever since you began singing that awful song when I tried to explain what a Blue Period was and then I kept humming it all week because it was stuck in my head,” Derek offered as an explanation for his actions. Stiles paused, eyebrows pulled together in consideration for a second before he broke out into loud laughter, probably remembering the exact scene from two years prior. If no one saw them before they surely had garnered enough people’s attention by now.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since you told Harris off for making me cry during the Polka,” Stiles grinned. It was Derek’s turn to bark out a laugh, louder than he had laughed in a while. He remembered that, it was 8 years ago - when Stiles and Cora were still learning various dances. Cora had to learn for the sake of her title and appearance, Stiles was just the poor culprit she wrangled into the mess and who could barely keep time with the three-step beat, leading to lots of stumbling and Harris berating him before Derek growled out a retort about being so pathetic to bully a child.

Derek remembered it as a scarring experience, Stiles refusing to dance for two weeks after. Stiles, however, decided it was the moment in which he’d fall in love with a then-angry, overly private 16-year-old that barely even spoke to him. Derek wasn’t sure which moment of realization was more absurd between them.

“You were thirteen !”

“And I was in love!”

It got quiet between the two, both of them just grinning at the other. Neither bothered to realize just how quiet it had gotten, or how much space had been carved out around them during their conversation. They were lost in their own world, ignorant to the rest of the room around them.

It wasn’t until a minute or two passed when a cleared throat caught their attention, making them realize the quieter atmosphere and their center stage set up among the crowd. Talia - Queen Talia - stood beside them, a knowing smirk on her face as she regarded them with a raised eyebrow, hands clasped in front of her.

Stiles gave a half-choked squawk in realization while Derek bowed his head, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. They separated abruptly, standing side by side to face Talia head-on.

“So,” Talia broke the silence, “I don’t think I’ll be introducing you to Braeden anytime soon. Seeing as you already have a boyfriend, hm?”

Stiles choked again, some mangled word dying in his throat, while Derek simply looked up at his mom with a deer-in-the-headlights look. When she gave a pointed tilt of her head, eyes shooting to Stiles as the younger man seemed paralyzed on the spot, Derek knew she was encouraging him to confirm. To say something .

“Yes,” he finally managed to pull out, his hand reaching out to grasp Stiles’ and squeezing it in question. When he got an immediate squeeze in response, he gave his mother a wide, genuine smile. “I’m dating Stiles.”

With that, Talia seemed pleased. She clapped her hands, announced that further celebration was to commence, and then left them as they were. It was oddly anti-climatic, the room returning to its usual activity and volume as before - only sneaky side glances were thrown their way in curiosity. It was easy for Derek to pull Stiles back to the outskirts of the room, however, the two of them were unable to stop glancing at each other and sharing smiles.

#ao3 #ao3fic #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek #royalty au #modern royalty au #alive hale family #fluff and angst #derek hale x stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #derek hale fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic #sterek fics #ao3 fic #sterek fic rec #my fic #teen wolf #teen wolf derek hale #oneshot

[readychilledwine]

Eris Week Day 6 - Arranged Marriage | AU

Happy day 6 of @erisweek2023 I wanted to give writing a head cannon a shot and figured today was a great day for that. ❤️

Marriage for political alliance head cannon-

Eris was LIVID when he found out his father was marrying him to one of his allies daughters

But now as he stood watching her walk down the aisle with her father clearly holding a knife against her back, all he could feel was sympathy.

She was terrified as she took his offered arm, her fingers were trembling. 

Eris couldn't comfort her, and that killed him. This female was to be his wife, and he didn't know the first thing about comforting her.

She performed the traditional dances and the ceremony with eyes constantly on the verge of tears.

Another nail went into the coffin Eris assumed would be his disaster of a marriage.

When it came time for them to retire to their marriage chambers, he had to search for her.

Rage filled him again when he found her. She was in tears, a knife to her throat as her father drunkenly told her to be a good little wife. "Remove your hands from my wife, or I will remove them for you." 

Eris held her close to him on the long walk to their new haven.

He'd ensure his bride felt safe in their room. He'd fill it with throw pillows and blankets as well as enchanting it to always be the perfect temperature for her

They fell in love slowly between stolen glances and private dinners. He courted her properly, the way his father should have allowed him to instead of forcing marriage on them so quickly. 

Both of them were too afraid, too deeply traumatized to utter those 3 simple words though

Eris made sure to show her he loved her.

He memorize her favorite things. If she liked one fruit more than the other, he'd make sure the staff had plenty on hand. He knew her favorite color and commissioned a trove of gowns and jewelry in that specific shade. 

She returned that favor. She had a custom dagger made for Eris. The handle was carved from the finest redwood he had ever seen. It was illyrian steel, and it had a beautiful ornate carrier. She would join him on walks with his hounds. Show interest in learning things the heir enjoyed.

Kissing had become a daily thing for them. They'd share long and slow good morning kisses. Quick in passing ones when they'd see each other in empty halls or their room. Passionate and heated ones at night when things would *almost* go further.

He found her one day cuddling with his hounds, and that's when it happened. That's when he finally told her of his love for her. Of his need to make her happy and make her feel safe.

The kiss after his long winded speech was different. The way she looked at him as she laced their fingers together and wordlessly pulled him to their bed was different.

Their marriage was consummated that night- 2 years and 300 days after their wedding. It had been the most intimate, gentle, and loving sex Eris had experienced in his 500 years of life.

He regrets absolutely nothing.

#acotar #eris vanserra #eris headcanons #pro eris vanserra #erisweek2023

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ Bonded by a Ring | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, fluff, a bit of angst. (This is a light chapter tbh, I can't think of anymore triggering content. Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: We take a look at your life as Mrs. Jeon, wife of the rich heir to Jeon Enterprises, Jungkook. He was a handsome gentleman who you were able to call your husband yet the relationship between you both was entirely political and civil. Could feelings begin to sparkle between the cracks of marriage?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This was supposed to come out yesterday on Kook's birthday but I was busy and I couldn't edit it but here it is! I'll continue writing this small drabble series when I find the time while also working on other fics I hope to be able to publish soon.

Let me know your thoughts on this one in the comments, please! Drabbles are open for this au in case you want to request something my inbox is open!!💜

It was dark outside. Dusk had settled a while ago and your husband was still not home. You worried for him, for his health. He worked so much and rested too little.

You were sitting on the couch, your laptop rested atop your folded legs. Glancing at the clock you noticed how it was nearly midnight. You sighed. This was not new for you. For Jungkook to always come home late, seldom were those times in which he dined with you.

Rarely did you ever go to bed together as you often found yourself curled in the large mattress without him to keep you warm during the night.

You and Jungkook have been married for some months now. A marriage that was arranged by his parents. A marriage that was of advantage to you both for he needed to have a wife and an heir to inherit his family's company and you, well you needed his name.

As an author who had published her first novel, you became really popular in the world of words and books and you could thank it all to your husband's marketing team.

There was no love between you two. But you didn't hate him either. The relationship between you and Jungkook was a polite one, he was ever the gentleman with you and in exchange he obtained your respect.

You cared for him to a certain extent. You always made sure he never left for work on an empty stomach and had ready some light dinner for when he came home late. You always made sure his shirts were ironed and his shoes polished.

And in return, Jungkook always gave you anything you could possibly need. Do you have an appointment with your editor? He'd make sure his chauffeur would drive you there. Do you need some new clothes? You could always use his credit card. Do you want to get Bam a new toy? He’d made sure to bring you the best catalogues he could find for you to choose what to buy for the spoiled dog who had earned your heart too quickly.

It was a balanced relationship. He respected you, you respected him. Jungkook had his life, you had yours. But to the public, you both were a happily married couple. While inside closed doors, you treated each other as an old acquaintance of another lifetime.

Your attention got stolen by the sound of the electronic lock as the front door opened and in came Jungkook. Even from where you sat, you could see the tiredness in his body. The exhaustion.

You put the laptop aside before standing up and walking towards him. You took his coat from his hands and presented his slippers to him.

If Jungkook hadn't been that tired at that moment he'd have thanked you with a soft smile.

"I'm glad you're home, do you want to eat something? I can heat you up some dinner if you'd like?"

He let out a sigh, the stress, problems and frustration from work were getting on his nerves. And to even think that he had to go back tomorrow...

"No, I'm fine, (y/n). I just want to sleep."

You nodded, placing his coat in the hanger while putting his shoes in its place. The scent of his cologne invaded your senses and your touch lingered on the heavy robe he previously wore for longer than needed.

Your eyes followed his figure as he disappeared in one of the hallways and into the bedroom you both shared. You have never minded sharing a room with him, let alone the bed. The other two rooms in the large flat were transformed in your study while the other was his personal gym.

Walking back into the living room, you saved the draft of the story you had been working on for some time now before you powered off your laptop.

For a moment, your eyes lingered on the city lights. They looked so close yet so far at the same time. The large glass windows that reached from the floor up to the ceiling allowed you to see such a beautiful view.

You felt a sudden sense of loneliness wash over you. Something that felt strange in you, something you couldn't describe, let alone place its source.

With a sigh you turned around, your arms were hugging your figure as you approached the couch once more. You placed the laptop on the coffee table before walking towards the bedroom, turning the lights off on your way.

Jungkook was already lying down on his side of the bed, his back facing you. With quick and silent movements you approached the other side of the bed and sat down before getting yourself under the covers.

You assumed your husband was already asleep as deep breaths could be heard in the quietness of the place. You turned on your right side, facing his back as you shut your tired eyes after having been in front of a screen for too long.

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

Those whispered words reached you before you fell into your deep slumber. You mumbled the words back as you succumbed to the tiredness in your body.

"Goodnight, Jungkook."

Little were you aware of the fluttering in your husband's heart at your words. Of the small smile that graced his lips at the little attentions you always gave him. By the way you were slowly entering his heart without you having the slightest idea.

Jungkook was woken up by his noisy alarm and he cursed under his breath before turning the frustrating noise off. With a sigh he sat up, one of his hands ruffled his hair before he stood up and went to the bathroom as he needed to get ready to go to the company yet again.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, Jungkook stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft noise that nearly echoed in the overly silent apartment.

"Bam, stop it. You already had breakfast."

He heard your voice from somewhere in his large home as the smell of coffee suddenly hit him. His feet carried him over the hallway and across the living room until he entered the kitchen that faced the dining area.

Jungkook saw how you had prepared a plate filled with fruit and some yoghurt as well as a cup of coffee. He couldn't help the smile that grew on his face, the moment itself was precious as if gotten out of one of the dramas he had caught you watching from time to time when you needed inspiration to write or to simply pass the time.

His stomach fluttered when you lifted your gaze from the large yet cute dog who stole your attention to look at your husband. A smile on your own was painted over your lips.

Time seemed to stop when your eyes met his, Jungkook didn't know for how long the both of you stayed like that. As if trapped in a loop of time of perfection. Almost like a real married couple did.

He broke eye contact and cleared his throat, as if snapping himself from some kind of spell. A spell only you conjure over me. The thought crossed his mind before he could stop it. Your smile disappeared from your face as you looked aside, your cheeks heating.

"Did... did you sleep well?"

You asked after a moment or two of silence. Even Bam stopped moving by your side as if somehow the canine felt the subtle tension rising in the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you."

Then it was awkward again. You didn't know what to say. He wasn't moving, neither were you. He didn't seem to want to lift his gaze as it was placed on the white floor beneath his feet. As if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"I made you some breakfast. It is not healthy for you to leave on an empty stomach, Jungkook."

He hummed, walking toward the stool before sitting down, his breakfast resting on the marble counter.

"I'm going to take a shower."

You excused yourself and left the kitchen, not allowing your husband to say anything as the next second you were already walking down the hallway.

A sigh left your lips as you leaned on the closed door of your shared bedroom. What just happened? You thought to yourself while pressing the back of your hands up to your cheeks to try and cool down the skin that felt suddenly too hot.

You decided a cold shower would help you clear your mind so you didn't waste another minute to grab your clothes and hop into the shower, allowing the cool water to run down your body and refresh your mind.

Jungkook sat at the stool, spoon in hand as he ate the last of his yoghurt. His cup of coffee was already half empty when you emerged from the bedroom, your hair was wet and you were wearing fresh clothes.

The scent of your shampoo hit him and there it was, the fluttering in his heart, the soft churning of his stomach.

He emptied the bowl with his breakfast and downed the remnants of his coffee before he stood up.

"I have to leave now."

Your hands picked up his bowl and cup as you placed them on the sink.

"Have a nice day, Jungkook."

He didn't know what was happening. Everyday you woke up and prepared some breakfast for him, sometimes he ate it at the flat other times he took it with him to eat it at the office.

Why was he feeling so strange right now when what you were doing was completely normal?

You turned to look at him with a warm smile over your lips, ignoring the way your heart sped up a little by the mere sight of him or the way you felt your palms begin to sweat due to the nerves of being with him in the same room.

He mirrored your smile and you swore you had seen Heaven. You loved his smile. You had always found it pretty. It suited him. Not that you had ever told him that but it was a thought you had had since you first met.

"Don't forget to have breakfast, (y/n). I'll try to come back a bit earlier today."

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the thought of him coming home at a decent hour from work.

"Oh, that's good. Have a nice day, then."

You mentally face-palmed yourself. You already wished him a good day, idiot! But he chuckled, walking away from the kitchen and toward the front door. You watched him like every other day, you watched him put his coat on as well as his shoes.

Jungkook turned around and smiled at you before he was out of the door, the soft click of the lock echoed so loudly in the now nearly empty flat.

You sighed, going back to the kitchen to prepare something to eat for yourself. Just like Jungkook told you. The promise of his early arrival set a smile on your lips once more. Wanting to be with him again, even when he had just left not even five minutes ago.

The reason for this new feeling? You didn't know. But you couldn't say you didn't like it either. Jungkook was your husband after all, it was only natural to want to be close and spend time with the person one marries, right?

"Jungkook, are you listening?"

His head turned to look at the side only to spot Jimin, one of his close friends and co-workers already looking at him with an expectant and curious expression over his delicate features.

"Sorry, what?"

Jimin sighed, a hand running through his blond hair.

"I was saying that we need to close the deal with Mr. Cha as soon as possible. It will help us increase our sales."

Jungkook let out a deep breath as his thumb kept clicking and clicking the pen that was in his grasp.

"I know. I'm sorry, hyung. I have a lot on my mind right now."

Jimin clicked his tongue as he put some files aside.

"Yeah, I figured. I'll ask Hoseok to look into this and bring you the contract for you to sign."

"Thanks, Jimin-ssi."

The latter smiled, more than smirked and said, his hands tangling in front of him over the table.

"Now tell me, what is bothering you?"

Jungkook knew his friend was going to ask that question sooner or later. He leaned back on his chair and said, fidgeting with the pen in between his fingers.

"It's (y/n)."

If Jungkook had been looking at his friend, he'd have seen how Jimin's eyes widened at the mention of your name. He had met you on a couple of occasions, one of them being your wedding with his younger friend, that's why he grew surprised when you were the centre of Jungkook's current state of mind.

"What happened? Did you two fight or something?"

The doe-eyed man shook his head, placing his pen on the table before his eyes locked with the curious gaze of one of his closest friends.

"What? No, I don't think I could ever fight with her."

Jimin hummed, allowing him to continue.

"It's just that... man I don't know. I can't sleep, I can barely eat. My mind is always racing with the mere idea of her. This morning I saw her smile and... I just thought of how beautiful she looked while smiling. I want to make her smile like that, you know? I want her to be happy and to smile at me like that everyday, Jimin."

There was a moment of silence between the two men. Seconds tickled by, the silence stretched. Nearly swallowing the younger man with his own thoughts and racing heart.

"What? Don't you have something to say, Jimin-ah? You are always teasing me and when I tell you something serious you stay quiet."

The blond haired man seemed to snap out of his own mind. The only thought in his head was the one of Finally!

"You like her."

Stated Jimin. There existed no ounce of hesitation in those three words.

"What?!"

Jimin rolled his eyes, if anyone had seen the scene they would have thought it to be comical.

"Shhh, don't shout like that. I simply said that you like her. You like (y/n), Kook."

Jungkook swallowed. The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind. Did he- did he truly have feelings for you?

"But how?"

Jimin refrained himself from smacking Jungkook on the back of his head. Perhaps they were both speaking as friends right now but the blond man had to remind himself that Jungkook was technically his boss too. At least his future boss.

"Jungkook, it's completely normal. She is your wife, she's been living with you for months now. It actually surprises me that this hadn't happened before considering your one year anniversary is in two weeks."

The heir to Jeon Enterprises was too stunned to speak. Jimin had revealed a reality his heart already knew but his mind rejected to accept for he couldn't deny his friend's statement. He liked you, he really did. And now, he saw his situation with way more clarity than before.

"What do I do now, Jimin? Should I tell her how I feel?"

The older man laughed a bit. His eyes closed with the motion.

"See? You didn't deny it! You really like her, huh?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, not liking the teasing from his friend.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Aish, you are totally clueless when it comes to romance, aren't you? Listen, Kook, first you have to know if she likes you back. Don't just open your heart where there could be a field of thorns, gift her things and see her reaction, do things for her and pay attention to her words, if she gets flustered or not. And if she doesn't show any signs, well then you have to win her heart."

Jungkook still had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know in order to act on the feelings his heart was treasuring. You were his wife, wasn't a marriage supposed to be sweet?

What he had with you wasn't bitter, but he found himself craving as of lately that sweet love of the heart.

He wished to be with you like a husband loves his wife, not only bounded by a ring but by sentiment too. To be tangled in the web of feelings that threatened to blossom in his heart with every thought of you, every single memory of you.

And he was going to do just that. To fight for your love. To win your heart or claim it if his name was already written in your soul for him to live in such a sacred place.

Bonded by rings, destined by fate. Claimed by society, yearning for a life by your side.

~Masterpost

Sept/02/2023

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

#jungkook #bts #bts fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x you #arranged marriage #jungkook arranged marriage #love #sweetcarrotsandroses97 #bts ot7 #ot7 #bts jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook x reader angst #jungkook x reader fluff #sweet marriage jjk #sweet marriage

[gabessquishytum]

Some kind of Georgian or Victorian au

Robyn Gadling is a very eligible young gentlemen, lately seen spending time with eligible debutante Dream Endless, and currently considered the most likely contender for his hand.

Personally Dream likes Robyn well enough, certainly better than most of his other suitors, but just can’t picture himself ever agreeing to marry him. Thankfully though, not long after he first begins visiting, Robyn finds an opportunity to speak privately with Dream and outright agree that he thinks they don’t suit. However, if Dream would be willing to consider the idea, he does think Dream would make a good match with his father, Hob Gadling.

Dream is fond enough of Robyn, and it’s a novel enough situation, that he is willing to hear him out, and from Robyn’s description does have to admit that the elder Mr. Gadling appeals to him more than the younger does.

So while society thinks that Robyn Gadling and Dream Endless are courting, behind the scenes Robyn is actually acting as wingman and go-between for Dream and his father (who is currently out of town on business), helping them get to know one another and eventually exchange letters. (Hob Gadling originally was just indulging his son in his matchmaking attempt, amused by this idea of courting by proxy, but as time went on he became more and more interested and invested in Dream for himself)

Eventually Hob Gadling returns to town, and Robyn wastes no time in inviting Dream over to introduce him, and outsiders who might been interested in the situation assume that Mr. Gadling the Younger was simply waiting for his father to return and grant his approval before making any engagement official (and from a certain point of view this is not untrue…). In any case, most everyone assumes that an announcement in the papers declaring the engagement of Mr. Gadling and Mr. Endless will be soon forthcoming, and sure enough they are proven right about a week later…until they all take another look and realize it’s the wrong Mr. Gadling printed there!

Gossipy scandal-seekers watch Robyn very carefully for any sign of disappointment, heartbreak, or perhaps even anger. After all, the father had clearly stolen a march on his son! But alas, Robyn never appears anything less than pleased, sometimes even a little smug, whenever he sees Dream and his father together looking utterly smitten. And even before the wedding, Robyn and Dream have been heard to call each other “stepson” and “stepfather” in teasing but clearly affectionate tones.

-🪽anon

YES matchmaker Robyn!! This is great. I love the idea of everyone thinking that Hob has stolen his son's intended husband. I think that Hob would also be amused (and quite flattered tbh, he is two decades older than Dream) by all the gossip. He's still amazed that Dream is interested - not only interested, but willing to risk his heart on Hob! It turns out that they make a perfect couple. There's no financial pressure on either of them (both have plenty of their own money), both of them prefer a quieter life in the country with a few trips away each year, and Hob isn't fussy about the idea of an heir - he has Robyn!

The gossipers begin to spread new rumours - Dream has married Hob because he wants his money now, but surely he's affections are really pinned on Robyn. He's probably cuckolding the father, with the son! But of course that isn't the case. Dream and Hob have a very healthy sex life, in fact, theyre so well matched in the bedroom it's a miracle they ever make it outside! According to their servants, the amount of sex they have is absolutely scandalous. Don't call on them until the afternoon, because you won't be seeing them for the whole morning.

Robyn would prefer not to hear the gossip about his father's sex life, but he supposes that's the reward he gets for playing cupid! At least he's always welcome to have a nice lunch with his papa and "stepfather", who are fonder of him than ever <3

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft