#To be fair. They really do make for an excellent hiding place for many things.

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Person A: “How the hell did you even get that past security?! I know they searched you!”

Person B: “Let’s just say there are a few benefits to having a larger bust, and leave it at that.”

#write-it-motherfuckers #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing #prompt #story prompt #story prompts #story #prompts #my prompt #original #random #imagine #story time motherfucker #dialogue #dialogue prompt #person a and person b #incorrect quotes #incorrect quote #To be fair. They really do make for an excellent hiding place for many things. #sass #sarcasm #sarcastic #suggestive #funny #silly #shenanigans #chaos #as always the tags are only ever a suggestion #chaotic

[tumblingdownthefoxden]

"The Assistant and The Star"

Chapter 1: Standard Routine

*11 years later

It was shortly after dawn and the sun was rising. Atop a grand hill stood Asha and another girl. Before them stood easels with canvases where they painted the sunrise.

Asha looked over at the other girl's painting. "Oh, Bazeema. That is an excellent shade of pink. How did you get it?"

Bazeema showed Asha her wooden palette. Using a clean brush, she took a dab of red paint, a dab of white and a touch of yellow before mixing it all in the center. "Oh, I see." Said Asha before she repeated the process. Asha places a few strokes of pink on her canvas before stepping back to admire her work. She thought it was grand. Asha looked around the forest and back to the sunrise before releasing a light sigh. "You were right Bazeema. I do feel better. I really needed this after last night."

The previous night, Bazeema and her mother were working late to finish tending the royal garden when they came across someone trespassing through the moss trees. When asked about their whereabouts, the person simply said they were looking for someone who owed them a favor and tried to push past them. The gardeners kicked out the heckler and would later find Asha hiding under a moss tree. She was hiding from a heckler that was chasing her near the castle. The same heckler that they just kicked out. Bazeema helped Asha get home and invited to take her uphill to paint the horizon before they went to work.

"Hmm. Do you want to leave now? We're a long way from the castle and I don't want to make you late for work." Asked Asha.

"It's still pretty early but we could leave if you want to. I'm finished with my painting anyway."

Asha added her signature onto her canvas before packing up her art supplies. They traveled for 30 minutes before reaching Asha's home. Outside the house, sat Mama Sakina brushing the fur of a baby goat. The goat noticed the two and bounced over to the pair. Excitedly braying as he pawed (hooved?) Asha's legs.

Asha giggled. "Good morning, Valentino. Happy you're awake as well."

"Good morning Asha. Hi Bazeema. How was the sunrise?" Greeted Sakina. "Good morning, mama. It was beautiful. I'm getting better at painting as well." She said as she lowered the canvas to Valentino's eye level. "What do you think buddy?"

Valentino cocked his head and paced side to side in critical thought before giving an approving bah. "Thank you very much." Replied Asha. She raised her canvas and looked back to Sakina. "We're just going to set these to dry and go to the castle." They placed their paintings against the wall of the house.

"You're going into the city now?" Sakina asked, concerned. "Can't you take the day off today? It's the middle of the Summer festival and there's a Wish Ceremony is today. It's going to be crowded in town square. It could be dangerous."

As she said this, Saba Sabino came outside. "Here's some food for thought. Why don't you celebrate your Saba's 100th birthday all afternoon and evening? Take a break from everything happening in the city."

Asha paused at the offer. Two years ago, she was interviewed and accepted to become the King's assistant. A role that allows her to help manage the wishes, prepare magic ingredients, and many other things. Rumor has it that the King's assistant will not only have their wish granted sooner than most, but can get other peoples' wishes granted.

Asha is quite famous in Rosas, but it is a perverted form of fame. Asha had more than her fair share of hecklers and fake friends. It only got worse during the solstice and equinox festivals. Today would be one of the few times that the King will grant wishes on the same night as a Wish Ceremony, and people will do whatever it takes to be sure that the "insurance" will deliver their wish that night.

"I know but this is the most demanding day and I have to help the King. He needs me to help choose the wishes to be granted and test the performance of his new spells." She began stroking her locs. "I know yesterday was… dramatic, but I can find another route and Bazeema can help me get home without anyone noticing."

Sabino sighed, a little sad. "Okay, if you must. But if I may suggest, that soldier fellow you know. The one near the castle. You can ask him to take you home as well."

"Simon? He's a castle guard, not a soldier. And he's on the night shift, I can't ask him to take me home."

"You get off of work near sundown. Simon's shift starts at midnight. He should have time." Bazeema rebutted.

"But he's asleep around that time. It's a long way to and from the castle and it would be rude to interrupt the little rest he gets to-"

"He will not mind." Sakina placed a firm hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Simon is one of your oldest and truest friends. He will not antagonize you for needing his help. He won't ask for anything in return." She smiled.

Asha sighed in defeat. "Okay. I'll ask him." She said before going inside the house. Entering her room and opening her closet, she searched through a set of 10 masquerade masks to wear on her trip. They were a gift from Magnifico to help her travel unrecognized. She picked a golden ibex mask and changed into her assistant's uniform. Asha grabbed her leather bag from a nearby chair and put on a dark hooded cloak over everything.

Walking out to the living room, she heard a gasp from Sabino.

"Oh, stars above! La muerte?! Oh, is it my grand daughter's time already?" He knelt down, trying not to smile. "Oh, please. Have mercy on her. Take me instead."

Asha laughed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not dead yet, Saba."

"You will be if you keep working yourself like a mule." He teased, standing up. "But if you're going into the city, maybe I can take advantage of crowd and play my music for them to hear." -He went to open a cabinet and pulled out a mandolin case- "Maybe, they will pay attention this time." He whispered to himself.

"You know, I could try to get your wish granted tonight." Asha offered. "Maybe find out what it was." Sabino chuckled. "No need to stress over finding it. I wrote it down before I gave it to the King. Now I wait for it and attempt to achieve."

"Oh." Went Asha. "What did you write?"

"It's a secret." He whispered with a smirk.

"Saba!"

Sabino just laughed at her frustration. "Well, what would like for a present?" Asha asked.

"If you find a little trinket in the market that I could add to my collection, that would a great bonus. But all I need is for you to come home in time for cake." He said with a smile.

Asha hugged her Saba goodbye and left the house. She hugged her mama and walked up to Bazeema. "Hey Valentino? Are you coming?" Asha called. Valentino hopped up to follow but Sakina picked up before he could approached. "Hold on there, mister. We can't have you go into that chilly castle without your pajamas, can we?" Sakina sat down on the grass criss crossed and positioned the little goat back on her lap. She pulled tiny pajamas from her pocket and fitted them over his head. "There you go." She chimed as Valentino ran over to Asha and Bazeema. "Watch over her, please. I love you all." She called to them. "We love you too. Goodbye." Asha called back as they made their way through the forest.

A while later and the trio made it to the outskirts of the forest, just outside the city. Asha stood in admiration of the festival decor around the area. Streamers of red and yellow. Banners for the rising and setting sun. Blue, unlit lanterns strung above the street. The streets weren't filled with people yet but enough to dissuade going through town square. They had not noticed a hunter at the edge of the forest looking their way in suspicion. Something about the cloaked figure seemed familiar but they weren't sure why. Then it hit them.

"Hey, are you the veiled assistant?" They called out. "I want to ask you something!" Valentino took notice and headbutted Bazeema's leg to see the hunter approaching. In a mild panic, Bazeema took Asha's hand and they bolted down the outskirts towards the docks. "Hey, where are you going?" The hunter cried after them.

After a short while, they made it to the docks. "Are... Are we... still being followed?" Asha panted, hanging onto her knees. Bazeema looked back and saw no sign of pursuit. "No, we're safe. But we need to find Dahlia and Hal. They can take us down a new route at the docks."

"Okay. Woo... Let me catch my breathe first."

After a good 7 seconds, Asha straightened her back. "Wait, you didn't tell Dahlia about last night, did you?" Bazeema was silent and only interlocked her fingers. "Oh no! Bazeema! She's going to be all over me!"

"But she can ensure you get in and out of the castle!" Bazeema beamed.

They approach the city where two other girls stood by. One with a crutch and anxious look. The other with a basket looking out at the nearby ships on the horizon. The anxious girl looked their way and squealed. 'Oh boy,' thought Asha. "Hi Dahlia. How are y-" Dahlia tackled Asha in a bear hug before she finish speaking. "Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Please take off your mask!" Was all the girl said. Asha complied with the request and lifted the mask from her face. Dahlia spared no time before taking her face into hands, turning it side to side to check for any bruises. "You're not hurt? They didn't reach you? Oh, I should've been there with you!" Dahlia panicked.

"I'm alright, Dahlia." Asha reassured. "They grabbed my cloak but I got away." The last sentence did anything but reassure Dahlia. "THEY TOUCHED YOU!? Oh ho! No! Do you remember their face? What they wore? Do you have their name?"

Hal came up and tugged at Dahlia's dress with her free hand. "Go easy on the lady, Doc. We still need to take her to the door." Dahlia took a deep breathe and let go of Asha's face. "Sorry. Okay. It should be this way." Dahlia led them past the great bell tower to a large wooden door that she swiftly unlocked with a key hanging on her belt. "This is the delivery route. The cooks use it to quickly bring in new shipments of food and herbs into the royal pantry." She opened the door to a dark hallway. "There are wall windows further down but it's stained glass so people should only see your shadow."

Asha looked inside, worried. "What if I get lost in there?"

"It's a one way path. Wherever it's too dark to see, just feel for the wall and follow it."

The 5 of them jumped as the great bell tower rang out to announce new arrivals coming to Rosas. Hal looked out to the ships about dock. "It's time, Dahlia!" She said. "You'll be fine Asha. See you tonight! And remember, you're the Goat!" She praised with a finger gun. Valentino brayed annoyed. "Oh, right! You too Valentino!" She said, petting his head. Asha placed her mask back over her face and the two entered the hallway, closing the door behind them. Dahlia will lock it once they're inside the castle. The three remaining girls returned to the gate to meet the approaching newcomers.

"Good morning and welcome. Glad you could make it here. My name is Dahlia Akaboshi and I will be your tour guide for today. These are my friends, Bazeema and Hal." She took the basket from Hal's hand. "Would you care for a muffin. Gratuity from my parents, the royal bakers." The guests took a few muffins and looked around. "So, shall we begin? Come this way." Dahlia looked back at the now open gate and the three girls led the new comers into Rosas.

A/N: Tumblr freaked out on me and this got deleted 2 times but things came out better. The story became much more extra than I anticipated but I like how it's coming along. I'm giving my girl a major internal conflict. I'm hoping to draw out my rewrite of "Welcome to Rosas".

@annymation @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @chillwildwave @kstarsarts @rascalentertainments @emillyverse @uva124 @oh-shtars

#wish au #taats #wish rewrite #wish reimagined #asha the assistant #asha

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Nightfall (2)

Vampire!Billy Russo x Female Reader.

Part 1 here

Warnings: Dubious consent, stalking, murder, watching her while she sleeps, he eats a heart in front of her, sex, oral, facesitting, bondage, kidnapping.

A/N: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh no comment at this time thank you.

Special shoutout to @idaofinfinity

You were aware, that the only reason you knew you were being followed, was because he wanted you to know.

Someone like him, with the means to watch you from rooftops, and hear every word you spoke from miles away, didn't need to walk so closely behind you every night on your way home from work.

To be fair, it would take a trained eye to notice he was following you, he did an excellent job of hiding in plain sight. However an expert eye like yours, could sight him from far enough away. It was easy, but you knew it was only easy because he wanted it to be easy. You didn't even see his face, just hints of his broad shoulders and leather jacket, paired with a gait you would not easily forget, and you knew it was him.

Then, there were the roses.

A single red rose, left beside your head each morning when you woke up. Letting you know he'd been in your place, watching you sleep. No matter how many times you'd moved, how many locks you put, he could get past them all- and leave them all with the appearance of being untouched in the morning.

You knew he hadn't put a finger on you, being a light sleeper meant that the barest hint of a touch, the gentle breath of a whisper could wake you.

Which means that he had to be ridiculously quiet, but that was a given, with the fact that he knew what sound feathers made when they hit the floor.

Still, as you sat in the thundering nightclub, nursing your strawberry daiquiri, you come to the slow realisation that you had no idea how powerful he really was. If he was capable of moving as quickly as he had that night, and being quiet enough to not wake you, you simmer with fear over what he would truly do with the right motivation. You'd heard a rumour that some of the more powerful ones had more powers, and you hoped that Billy wasn't one of them.

The fear changes to butterflies very quickly, when you remember the carve of his muscle and the rock of his hips- and then you're internally yelling at yourself for thinking about it.

God, you didn't actually like him did you?

The stalking was creepy right? It had started a couple of weeks after you'd met him, and it had been two weeks since the roses began appearing. You should be repulsed by the fact that he knew your every move- could hear your every breath- and yet somewhere in the back of your head, you knew you'd be doing the same thing to him if the roles were reversed.

Like two sides of the same coin.

Your blood was delicious to vampires, you knew that, it's what made you a good hunter, but maybe there was an addictive component to it as well, you could only speculate what he was going through each night when he stood over you, watching you sleep.

You definitely weren't going to make it easy for him, already had a game plan in mind that would put him into a deep grave.

You didn't fuck evil creatures of the night.

You killed them.

~

Case in point, you were eyeing your target right now. A beautiful raven haired girl, dancing in the midst of writhing bodies with her next victim in her arms.

He was a gorgeous boy, someone fitting for a pretty girl like her, smiling and carefree but it was all a trap. Every move was designed to allure, and she did that perfectly with the toss of her head and the sway of her hips.

You slip off your bar stool, only needing to pass close enough to show off your delectable scent. Your peripherals catch the way her head swivels in your direction when you move past, and she abandons her boy toy for you.

You hear his offended scoff, as if you didn't just save his life.

She follows you, and she isn't tactile about it, probably young then, too enraptured by the way you smell to focus on being covert.

You take your time, slipping into one of the storage rooms upstairs, pretending to be searching for something among the boxes of supplies. She doesn't make a sound, but you know she's there, you can feel her like a touch, and in seconds, she attacks.

~

You step out of the room,  adjusting your hair and straightening your dress. In the dark light of the club, any specks of blood on your body will be overlooked easily.

You hadn't expected her to have such sharp nails, and they'd done a significant number on your shoulders. But like every other time, a single drop of blood, and she was dazed by the taste. Easy to grab the stake concealed in your shoe and finish her in seconds. You know the cleanup team has eyes on you, waiting for you to leave the area so that they can go in an get rid of any evidence left behind. Unfortunately, vampires didn't turn to ash like they did in the movies, so someone had to go in and get the corpse out.

Your heel wobbles on the sidewalk for a second before it settles and the stake clicks properly into place. You walk to the curb and don't hesitate to hop straight into the grey panel van waiting for you.

You slump into one of the seats, letting the exhaustion finally sink in as you relax.

The pain, which was a dull throbbing before, becomes more and more insistent as the adrenaline drops from your system.

"Scale of one to ten." Ethan asks, coming to sit beside you.

You peek an eye open, frowning at how close he was to you.

"Five." You say, referencing the difficulty scale you'd come up with a while ago.

He grins, and you catch a peek at why vampires would be drawn to him. He was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, and he moved with an ease similar to them.

He just wasn't your type.

His hand is on your shoulder and you hiss in pain.

"Her nails were sharp." You explain and he looks down at your wounds, reaching for some salve and bandages to begin patching you up.

His fingers are nimble and precise, and he asks permission to unzip your dress to get better access to the slashes on your shoulder.

You stay quiet, only hissing occasionally when it stings a little too much.

He works quietly on you, and when he's done, he gives you a firm pat that makes you grunt in pain and look back at him in displeasure.

His smile is cheeky, and he raises his hand to push some of your hair away from your face.

The van slows to a stop and your body presses against his for a moment before you're standing and stepping out without a word.

~

The old brownstone building echoes as the door closes behind you, and you find Ethan waiting on the front porch with a cigarette in hand.

"How was it?" He asks.

"Fine." You sigh, "Hoping they'll stop this soon."

"Well, they're just trying to make sure you don't fuck up like last time."

You grunt out a sigh.

"Look, I just took on more than I could handle, okay? It wasn't a big deal."

Ethan narrows his eyes at you, following as you walk to your car that's parked two blocks away to preserve secrecy.

"Don't be naive, Y/N. You faced down a vampire stronger than we've ever seen before and the most you came back with was a couple of bruises and bites." His hand reaches out to stop you mid stride and you look up with a frown.

"Does that not seem weird to you? I've seen fledglings go feral at the scent of your blood, and you expect me to believe, you expect everyone to believe that you got the upper hand just long enough to get away?"

You study him for a long moment, thoughts flying through your brain.

"Wow, Ethan, it kind of sounds like no one trusts me."

He doesn't meet your eyes.

"Wait a minute. Then why?" You ask, throwing your hands into the air and walking away from him.

"Why protect me, why send me out on jobs and keep me safe if you think I'm the enemy now?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He says, and you stop, spinning around to face him. He pulls up short when you swivel on him.

You blink at him for a few seconds.

"I'm bait?"

A nod of his head.

"You're bait." He confirms.

"Why would I be bait?"

"Because we think he's marked you."

You didn't know what that meant.

"It's something older ones can do, pick a human to keep as a slave, prolong their lives and keep them like pets."

You jerk at the information, and you were kind of scared at how much sense it made.

You turn away from him and keep on walking.

"That makes no sense. Why didn't he take me when he had the chance? Why wait?"

A grunt from behind you.

"Because he's a sick fuck that likes a hunt, probably. Filthy bloodsucker."

You turn the corner and see your car nearby.

You tug the driver's door open and Ethan's hand pops out from behind you to press it shut.

"I trust you, I really do. I'm the reason you got back into jobs so quickly."

You turn to face him, he steps in closer to cage your body against his.

"Really?" You ask.

His fingers on your chin and you know that he's going to try to kiss you next. You also know that he's going to struggle to take 'no' as an answer.

You wonder briefly if Billy is watching, from a building nearby or from the street corner a few metres away.

"Really," Ethan's voice dips to a seductive timbre, "I only want to keep you safe."

He doesn't allow you to respond, before his lips descends onto yours.

The passion is one-sided, but you doubt he even notices. You give him a gentle push, a groan of protest but he's insistent.

"Relax for me." He breathes against your lips, as you continue to try and push him away.

"Stop." You sigh, but you know you need to put more effort into your denial to get him to relent.

When his hands begin to drift over you, you finally decide to put a stop to this.

You give him a hard push, and he pulls back slowly. Your breathing is laboured as you look at each other, his head tilts in confusion.

"Sorry, E, not tonight." Is all you say, giving him a smile before you've slipped into your car and driven away.

There's a voice in the back of your head, stating a fact, that you may have just condemned him to death.

~

You shut your apartment door closed behind you, and freeze.

You can taste the charge of power on your tongue, feel it on your skin as if its a physical presence. There's also the metallic smell of blood permeating the air. You know it's him, sitting somewhere in your apartment, giving you an idea of the power he holds.

You take a look at the door, debating whether you should get out while you still can, run as far away as possible.

He'd just find me again, you think.

You turn away from the door decidedly. There would be a showdown tonight, one way or another. You drop your keys and your bag, kicking off your shoes.

You make him wait, grabbing a drink of water from your fridge to chase the dehydration from your body. Your shoulders still sting from your earlier confrontation tonight.

The sound of your footsteps echo through your tiny place, and you wonder which one of you is going to make it out of this apartment alive.

You push your bedroom door open. He's right where you expected him to be- sitting against your headboard, one leg extended and the other bent to put him in a comfortable position.

He's as beautiful as always, the scars on his face give him that dangerous and alluring edge and you can feel your lower regions tingle with excitement.

His mouth is slick with blood, an amused smile on his face as he takes another bite of the human heart in his left hand.

His right hand holds another red rose, twirling it around his fingers.

Of all the things there are to unpack about his appearance, you focus on the most irritating thing first.

"You're wearing your dirty boots in my bed." You say in annoyance.

The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, and he takes another bite into the heart, as easily as he bites into an apple, chewing slowly. You give a little shudder internally at what you imagine the texture to be like on your tongue.

"How did you find me?" You ask in a quieter tone.

"Oh please." He finally says when he swallows, "I could find that wet little cunt anywhere."

Your heart beats in your chest. He was right, you were wet.

You want to ask him so many things, but instead you let your anger take control of you.

You attack just as he swallows his last bit of heart.

You grab a stake concealed on your dresser, taking a few steps toward him until you've got the pointed end pressed to his chest. To get enough leverage, you have to climb onto the bed and hover your body over his.

He gives you a bloody grin in response, fangs protruding before your eyes.

"Does that make you feel more comfortable?" He asks.

You don't respond, opting instead to press the point deeper into his chest over his blue t-shirt.

He lets out a low grunt, and suddenly he's leaning up, the stake piercing his skin as you feel his hands grip at your bare thighs, maneuvering you into his lap with one careful tug.

His shirt blooms with his blood, but he doesn't look concerned about it. Your lips part when you feel the stiffness of his erection against the inside of your thigh. You fight the urge you have to grind your body against his, knowing that you'd never be able to live that down.

"Gonna kill me now?" He asks measuredly.

"Of course." You murmur, focused on the point pressed precariously to his heart.

The slick blood on his hands is transferred easily to your thighs, wiped in streaks along the base of your dress.

"Will you give me a little goodbye gift then? A last meal?"

You roll your eyes.

"There's no way I'm ever letting you bite me again."

A look of amusement slowly grows on his face and before you know it, he's giving you a toothy grin.

He grabs the stake, forcing it away from his chest and ripping it from your grip. A flick of his wrist and it's tossed to the other end of the room.

You lose control fast.

He pushes you to your back and with inhuman strength and speed, he grabs your wrist, winding the metal of the headboard around it. While he's distracted, you manage to slide your foot up between your pressed bodies so that you're able to kick him away.

He falls back but recovers quickly, standing beside the bed and looking down at you as you realise how securely he'd bound you to the bed.

You tug, and then tug again, feeling your wrist ache as you try to pull it free.

He chuckles.

"Don't move, gonna wash this swill from my mouth to get a good taste of you."

"Fuck you." You hiss when he's at the door.

He pauses, looking back.

"If you want."

And then he's gone for the moment.

Oh shit, oh shit, is all you can repeat to yourself as you try to tug your arm free from the twisted frame.

What did you get yourself into? Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?

And the heart? Was it Ethan's? Did he really kill Ethan that fast and beat you to your house?

Fuck

Fuck

You were so dead or worse...

The door shutting draws your attention and you turn back to look at him.

He's lost his shirt, and he toes off his boots, never breaking eye contact with you.

Your eyes skim his bare chest, with its raised scars and small patches of hair. It reminds you of the last time- when he'd taken you against your will and left you empty and aching for more.

Was he going to do that now? Take you like he'd done before? Or worse, turn you into a pet like Ethan had said?

He takes a deep breath and smiles, you cross your legs trying to mask the scent of your arousal.

"Think that's going to stop me?" He asks slowly. Pressing his palms to the bed and crawling his way toward you like a predator hunting prey.

"Every night, I stand over you, and I think about the way you tasted." He hovers over you now. His fingers trail over your thigh and you flinch at the touch. He runs his tongue over his teeth and you absently notice that all hints of blood are gone from his lips.

"My sweet little morsel, dripping for me and only me."

He siezes your jaw suddenly and you grunt in pain and surprise, a twitch of your mouth as you eye him angrily. Your free hand presses against his shoulder to try and push him away to no avail.

"And no one, touches you. Do you understand me?"

Your stomach flutters.

"Go to hell." You grit out.

He looks amused.

"You think you're so much fucking better than me?" He asks carefully, releasing your jaw and tracing his hands lower, his fingers clawing into the tops of your dress, stretching the seams and letting it rip slowly as he tears it to shreds.

"What? Because you don't drink blood you think you're so superior? Think you deserve to keep this cunt for yourself?"

He leans down, having fully wrenched every scrap of your dress from your skin, leaving you in your underwear, exposed, for this being, who is more monster than man, to touch.

"Newsflash baby," his breath in your ear, "You're a murderer just like me."

"Fuck you." You hiss.

His hands smooth over your skin, and you wriggle in protest, trying to pull away from his exploring hands. They grip your shoulders and paw at your breasts over your bra before sliding down your thighs.

"Pretty little huntress, spitting fire with her mouth while her cunt drips with need."

You shiver as his hands slide down to the edges of your underwear, you try to stop him with your free hand.

When pushing him doesn't work, you slap him, across the face making your your nails leave red welts behind that heal as quickly at they're made.

"Fiery little thing, aren't you?" He murmurs, reaching up to remove your bra, your free hand is no match for his iron grip.

"How many of us have you killed?" He asks, making casual conversation as his hands smooth over your bare thighs and hook under the silky fabric of your underwear.

When you don't answer immediately, he looks up at you with angry eyes, gripping your thighs almost painfully in warning.

"One a month since I was twenty-two." You gasp, not seeing the need to hide something so irrelevant.

He does the math in his head.

"Minus you." You add in quickly and he smiles.

"Minus me." He mocks, finally pulling your underwear free from your body.

He stares at your lower half for a long time, before dropping his head to your mound and taking in a deep breath.

You try to pull away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but he grabs your legs and spreads you open so easily, you barely stand a chance.

You try to push him away again with your free hand, which leads him to give you a wicked smile, pulling his belt free to restrain your hand, but not before tapping the cool leather to your cheek.

He gives a toothy grin when you try to pull your hands free, and you realise that he enjoys your helplessness.

"Good," he murmurs, spreading your legs open and pushing your thighs up toward your stomach.

"Now I can eat this little pussy for as long as I want."

"Fuck you," you grit out.

He gives you a grin when he sees you clench around nothing.

He keeps his eyes locked to yours as he drops his head.

The first swipe of his tongue makes you groan, your muscles relaxing against your will, easily taken by the pleasure.

God, his tongue is good, lapping at your clit, licking into your entrance, your bliss is involuntary and you shiver, with the desperation of your resistance.

The worst part is that he moans loudly when his tongue pushes into you, and you think he must be the best actor in the world- to pretend that he loves the taste of you so much.

You resist making a sound as much as you can, settling for panting and small whines when he uses just the right pressure on your clit. His tongue circles your aching bud, and you sigh when you remember how amazing he is at this. You can't focus on anything else, too hooked on the way his tongue moves in just the right way every time.

Your body tingles, your eyes squeeze shut and you come hard in the next moment, thighs shaking where he presses them open.

He doesn't stop, fucking his tongue into you, you can barely feel it, the appendage too soft and pliable to elicit any real pleasure, but he lets out another passionate moan and you can't help clenching around his tongue.

Then, his lips are back on your clit, licking, and kissing, and making the most obscene sounds possible while he takes what he wants.

He doesn't stop when you come a second time, or the third.

It takes your fifth orgasm for him to raise his head.

By now, your eyes are wet with tears, the pleasure and overstimulation beginning to set in.

"No more, please." You plead, but his only response is a gentle kiss to your lips, the wetness on his face smearing onto your chin as he reaches up to remove your bindings.

You can hardly move, your body is unable to support itself when you finally get free.

"Sit on my face, huntress." He says, before settling his body on the bed.

You sniffle.

"C-can't."

He's not listening to you, maneuvering your body anyway, and you can't resist his guidance.

"Of course you can, silly, I don't need to breathe and I want your thighs glued to my ears."

You sniffle, and huff, reaching out to grip the headboard, pressing your cheek to the cool metal surface, begging it to support you while he takes what he wants.

You look down between your thighs, seeing the top of his face, looking up at you for a moment, eyes flashing red before his tongue is on you again.

You whine, gripping the headboard tighter as his tongue licks over your clit.

The euphoria is blinding, you simultaneously want to pass out and rock your dripping cunt on his face in hopes that it teaches him a lesson.

You can't stop yourself from saying his name, unsure of what you're asking for.

He groans, hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer to his face.

He eats you like a man starved, like you are the last fruit on earth and he's been hungry for days. You try to focus on anything else beside the movement of his tongue but you fail at that.

You let out a choked sob as you cum, your spine stiffens and your body trembles, but he just keeps going.

Each time you come, his tongue gets gentler and gentler on your clit, to avoid the sharp pain of overstimulation. He keeps you on his mouth for what feels like hours, until you're sure you're going to pass out from the pleasure.

At one point, you decide to rock your hips on his face, hearing him groan, feeling his hands encourage the motion. You sigh, grinding your pussy onto his tongue, a sound of surprise when he pushes two fingers into you easily.

The mixed motions of him licking at your clit while his fingers fuck you slowly has you almost slumped over.

"Pleaseeee," you groan, "More."

He takes this as an invitation, pumping his fingers into you faster and you sob, knowing another orgasm is imminent. He hits the right spots, every time, and at this point you're just going through the motions.

You shiver when you come, your hips make involuntary movements, and his tongue is there, lapping at your clit through the orgasm. Your eyes roll back in your head, you feel his fingers slip out of you easily. You feel boneless, scrambling to grab the headboard once again, but pretty sure you're going to pass out if he keeps this up.

How long have you been sitting on his face? You don't have any grasp of time. He grips your ass this time, pulling your hips back to his face, you can feel the slick wetness of the fingers that were just inside you, leaving trails of your come on your skin.

You try to resist this time, making an attempt to dismount his face, to stop his lips from meeting your clit, but you're just not strong enough. He grips your hip painfully in warning, before pressing your heated pussy to his tongue once more.

You let out a soft cry, trying to extract your body, wiggling your hips, but it does nothing.

Billy holds you in place, fucking you with his tongue, over and over again.

Finally, when you're too blissed and shaking to hold yourself up, your vision goes dark. You're vaguely aware of your head thumping against your soft pillow as you pass out.

Everything is blurry when you come to, moaning in surprise when you feel him push into you for the first time. Any resistance your body has, is gone, washed away by his tongue, and you gasp when you feel the delicious stretch as his cock fills you.

He takes his time, making a place inside you for himself with each little move of his hips.

"My favourite place." He murmurs, and you're not even sure that he's talking to you.

You whine, clenching around him, sharing the sentiment of his groan.

It feels like you're burning from the inside, the pleasure consuming every thought you have with each press of his cock.

You can barely move a limb, gripping the sheets tightly as he fucks you.

His fingers reach up to grip your throat, and your eyelids flutter.

"How's it feel to have a filthy bloodsucker like me deep inside you?"

Truthfully, it was the greatest sex in the fucking world, and the idea of that alarmed you into sensible thought.

"Fuck.... you..." you gasp out, feeling his fingers tighten around your neck for a brief moment, before releasing.

You shouldn't want this so bad, you shouldn't feel distraught with the thought of him stopping... but you are.

His naked body against yours and all you want to do is hold him close and beg him not to stop.

The emotion chokes you, the power of his thrusts disorient you, and the next thing you know is that you're coming with a hoarse cry around his cock.

"Good girl." He whispers in your ear, and you sob, hands leaving the wrinkled sheets to press into his cool skin. One hand on the back of his neck, keeping his face pressed to your body, the other hand grips his hip, encouraging his harsh thrusts.

You feel him kiss your neck and shoulders so gently, and you think he may bite you but you don't think you care as much.

Your ankles lock together around his hips, his name is a prayer on your lips and his body is the centerpoint of your world.

You make small gasps every time his hips meet yours. Your legs tremble and you let out another broken cry when you come.

He finally pulls back for a second, dark eyes meeting yours to study your fucked out form.

"Are you-" you gasp, struggling to say the words as your body continues to tremble with waves of burning pleasure.

"Are you going to kill me now?" You ask, looking up at him through watery eyes.

You gasp when he flips you over, grabbing a pillow to tuck under your hips before he's inside you once again, the squelching sound of your wet cunt readily accepting him.

"I should, shouldn't I? You've killed so much of my people." His hands ghost over the bandaged scratches on your back.

"I should have killed you weeks ago." He murmurs, and you sigh, defeated.

His hand sinks into your hair, pulling your head up and you moan at the sting, he forces your pliant body to arch for him.

"Wanna know a little secret, huntress?" He says, lips pressed to your ear, his cock rocking little by little inside you.

"I don't want to kill you. From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were mine."

The words send a wave of bliss down your stomach, scattering like sparks down your body.

His.

It shouldn't feel so right.

He's your enemy. He has to be.

Why are you pushing your hips back on his cock?

He grunts.

"That's it baby, fuck back on me... you're not going to be able to walk after this."

You didn't think you could walk right now.

His hips slap against yours, as he suddenly sets a brutal pace, finally seeing what sort of pleasure vampires were truly capable of giving.

His pace is harsh, fast, your eyes roll back in your head as you're pretty sure his cock is going to kill you.

You can't make a sound, can't move a muscle, all you can do is take and take and take and take and take and take-

You feel a strong wave of pleasure when you finally come, somewhere in the back of your mind, you're aware that he comes too, a loud roar of bliss as his hips stutter. Your body quivers violently, and you can do nothing except allow it to overwhelm you in the best way. You're vaguely aware of the feeling of him filling you, you can feel his come, as it's pumped into you, a little cooler than your internal body temperature.

He slips out, falling into bed beside you and pulling your body to his so that you're wrapped in each other still.

"You didn't bite me." You murmur, in realisation, meeting his eyes.

He smiles, the scars on his face crinkling adorably.

"I didn't need to." He whispers back, a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek.

But you promised you would, you think, unable to formulate another sound, falling asleep, pressed against him.

~

Sore.

It's what you first feel when you come to.

Aching.

Everything fucking aches.

The only thing that doesn't hurt is breathing, taking slow breaths, humming in discomfort as you move, finding a more comfortable spot in bed before relaxing again.

You don't remember your bed being this comfortable, you feel like a gooey puddle, sinking into the soft sheets, feeling like you've become one with the bed.

A satisfied sigh, followed by more sleep.

~

A hand in your hair, his fingers massaging into your scalp. You sigh, loving the comfort.

"You've been asleep for a while. You should eat."

You give a groan of complaint and you hear him laugh.

You peek an eye open at him, and you gasp, forcing your body to sit up and look around.

This wasn't your room.

"Where am I?" You ask, turning to look at him accusingly. You climb out of bed, your knees buckle momentarily, but you're able to recover.

"My place." He answers simply, and you look down, finding yourself in an oversized shirt, probably his.

"You kidnapped me." You say accusingly.

"Yup." He confirms, as if you're talking about the weather.

You give a shake of your head.

How could you be so stupid?

You're out the bedroom door in seconds.

His place is a penthouse apartment somewhere in upstate New York, by the quick glance you take out of the windows.

"Where are you going?" He calls from behind you, and you pause to look back at him.

"I have to go back. They'll be looking for me."

Especially if they realise Ethan is probably dead. You were technically the last person to see him alive.

You get the front door open an inch before his hand is pressing it shut.

"You really think they're going to let you live if you go back to them? They were using you as bait. They'll kill you on sight if they suspect you've been compromised."

"They're my family. They'll understand."

"They make a living out of killing innocent people."

"No one we kill is innocent." You argue.

"Oh please," he says, pushing away from the door, you turn to look at him as he walks away from you.

"They train you to hunt and kill the first vampire you find. They don't care if the vampire doesn't kill humans. Once they have fangs and red eyes, they're the enemy."

"Vampires kill people." You say, taking a step toward him and he laughs.

"Do you really think it's that black and white? Of course you do, all vampires are bad just like all humans are good, right?"

You give a little shake of your head, too disoriented for an ethics lesson from a murderer.

"And you didn't kidnap me from my home to make me your little human pet? Don't act like you're the better person here because we both know that's bullshit." You retaliate.

Another shake of his head. He doesn't face you, looking out at the window instead.

"More lies from an organisation that wants to control you. We don't enslave people... we choose..." his voice trails off, but you step toward him angrily, eager to hear what he has to say.

"What? You choose what? Prey?" You ask.

He doesn't meet your eyes.

"Mates."

You step back.

No way. This wasn't happening.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, you glance at the door.

"Why don't you hear what I have to say, before you try to leave? Maybe eat something too while you listen."

You hesitate.

"You're not going to just let me leave, are you?" You ask cautiously.

He grins at you.

"Definitely not, huntress, but maybe hearing me out means you stay willingly."

"And if I don't want to hear you out?" You ask.

"I can find other ways to use my mouth that I know you'd like."

You press your thighs together at the thought and he gives you a smug smile.

"Fine," you murmur in defeat, "Lead the way."

.

.

.

#dark!billy russo #vampire billy #vampire!billy #vampire!billy russo #billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x reader #my writings #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #monster!billy #billy russo smut

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

I don't know you all that well yet, but man do I love your energy. Chef's KISS. You're like the kid in class who is beloved by many but you can't even be mad at them for being popular because A) they're unapologetically weird in some excellent ways and B) they're too nice.

!!!!!!

Oh, this made my day!

As a child, or when I was younger, I would never, never have imagined I could ever get something like this. I was your typical too-eager, too-earnest child, with passions larger than my diminutive frame. I wanted friends so badly - I had one dear friend - but I tried so hard to make friends and they all walked away. I was too desperate, I think, and generally obnoxious. By about grade four (how old was I in grade four? around nine, apparently) I'd been forced to resign myself to being a loner. I wandered school and avoided people. I occasionally played tag with other kids, but largely my lunchtimes were spent assiduously trying to look content with my own company and muttering stories under my breath. No wonder everybody else avoided me.

When I came back after a couple of years away from that school, in year eight, I found everything had changed - simultaneously I was gaining friends (including some who had mocked me in primary school, apparently, though I have no memory of it) and also becoming the target of some vicious bullying over my beliefs. (This was a Christian school, but I had the audacity to stand up for some of my beliefs that differed from those of some classmates.) As you can imagine this did wonders for my self-esteem. But in the end I had a fair place in my class, and if they did not like me, my classmates at least respected me (or my maths, religion and english skills, anyway - skills that have since disappeared, sob).

All the same, I was not popular and never have been... nor have I been beloved by many. But you're getting those vibes from me???? Oh, dear, I am honoured, truly! I am absolutely unapologetically weird... I would apologise but also that's me and ain't me as can change my weirdness, only hide it. (Which I have learned to do fairly effectively in offline contexts. Online, I either don't or can't.) And you think I'm nice 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I think you're imagining things but STILL that's lovely of you.

Thank for the ask I really appreciate it!

#catkin: an autobiography. coming to stores near you- #:P #sorry for absolutely derailing and demolishing this ask..... #ask #thanks for the ask #pinned

[jochumsen62young]

How To Backup Windows Xp Home Edition

Have you ever asked to have your money refunded after buying something online? Do have to this often? What are the reasons you've applied for refunds? Savvy marketers will try to find out why without a person feel you should not have asked. This could be valuable information in. Anyone selling on the internet always be willing to possess a fair and prompt refund policy. To back up items and claims without hesitation. It is highly important to do with online sales because of the transaction is done without being in a very "read" the salesperson and operation one on one. Now, aren't getting mad a start making accusations about all the shallow individuals. While it become true that some people place an excessive amount of emphasis on physical appearances, the bottom line is it does make a positive change when two different people are meeting and making initial evaluations of their interest in each other. And, it's also another stylish trust difficulty. It is always going to be able to much for you to interact by using a thelicensekeys face than by using a blank box. The hazard of this myth is it causes marketers to believe they can succeed without having done any much marketing or . They think their product or service is so special that you ought to automatically generate hordes of forking over customers. Unfortunately, it doesn't happen method. on1 photo raw crack can opt to walk in integrity taking us one step closer towards becoming a much higher Ground Human or as many of us do it really is choose for taking safe route, hide our true feelings, protecting our vulnerability and safely hiding our horror. As you might have already guessed, all of these things happened to me, after Got amassed 26 rental capabilities. In fact, oftentimes, all of obviously happened each morning same period. Now, for awhile (when I had about 10 houses), if one person decided not to pay rent, I could cover it with the nine other payments. An excellent two, things sometimes even five tenants didn't pay in replacing month, made devastating to my organisation. I had to go to my small business account and pay about $3,000 in the course of in mortgage payments, without income to meet it. Plus, I to be able to pay a property management company to get my tenants to pay or to evict that. Running the fingertips in the shaved area is a great method of ensuring a close thorough gently slice. The sense of touch will alert for you to stubble and missed patches it always be difficult to see in the mirror. bulk rename utility commercial crack about the incident in Orange County, CA where the performer makes a comment about Linda Ronstadt and audience starts booing and the performer responds with how America were previously a place where you could openly discuss your views. Ha! 20,000 people and he's the only one with a microphone! Open discussion, my ass.

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[love-and-monsters]

The Bartered Wedding, pt. 1

M Fae X GN (implied to be AFAB) reader, 7, 173 words.

I saw a post a while back about trading in a Fae market for a ring and becoming betrothed to the ring's owner and thought 'oh that looks interesting' and promptly did absolutely nothing with the idea. Until, that is, I read @monsterfolkandfiction's excellent story based on the same concept and got a plot bunny. Add that to @cozycryptidcorner talking about her own Faerie stories and, well, this was born!

This will be a multi-part enemies to lovers story, dealing with a human and their unexpected marriage to a Faerie. I really had fun writing it, so hopefully you enjoy reading it.

Content warning: this story contains implied parental abuse and forced marriage.

The Faerie Market was no place for an unsuspecting mortal.

Fortunately, you were far from unsuspecting.

The Faerie Market was beautiful in the way of a yawning cave or a tiger’s maw. Awe inspiring, but with that sickening sensation of ‘this could hurt me’ always lingering in the back of your mind. The Fair Folk called to you as you passed, with words like roses to hide thorny intentions. Their eyes rested heavy on your shoulders and back. A mortal, wandering right into their bargaining den was much like a mouse stumbling into a barn full of cats. They would rip you to shreds and have fun doing it. But if you were clever, if you were careful, you could make it out intact and advantaged.

So many of them were calling to you now that your head swam with their voices. The air was perfumed with a heady scent that almost had your mind reeling. All things designed to ensnare your senses, make you pliable. But there was one thought burning thought in the forefront of your mind that kept you sane. As long as you kept that tether, you could keep going.

You kept your gaze unfocused as you looked around. The Market was not just a place, but a consciousness. It knew what those who entered it were seeking. If you kept your mind open just enough, eventually it would guide you to the right place.

And just like that, you felt the unsettling pull of magic in your mind. Everything drifted further out of focus except for one stand- it was made from a tree bent up, then down into a table. The woman behind it had a flickering, inconsistent form. Through one eye, she looked like a wrinkled old woman; through the other, she was a young maiden. When you looked directly at her, the two forms layered, like trying to watch a 3D movie without the glasses. It made your head throb to look at. But the magic of the Market tugged at your feet and you approached regardless.

She smiled when she saw your approach. In both of her forms, her mouths were full of sharp teeth in rows like a shark’s. “Welcome.” Her voice rasped as it came out, gurgling in her throat and chest. “What brings a mortal like yourself here?”

The most important rule when interacting with the Fair Folk: be polite, but give no more information than required. You sat in the little chair by her stand, head dipped in a respectful greeting. “I wish to trade.”

Her smile widened. “Might I have the name of the person I’m trading with?”

An obvious play, but one you might have fallen for if you weren’t so careful. “I give my name to no one. But if you wish to address me, I can be called Sparrow.”

The Fae seemed only more delighted by your dodge. “So rare to find a clever mortal,” she said. “Such a good prize, too.” She smiled again, almost a leer. You looked back impassively. Rule number two: never be intimidated, or at least, never show it.

“I have come to trade,” you repeated. “Will you trade with me?”

The faintest flicker of disappointment crossed the Fae’s face. Good. You didn’t want to make her happy. Staying on task reduced the risk of anything bad happening. Keep control of the situation, only focus on what you were here to do, and stay calm.

“Very well,” she said with a little sniff. “What does a mortal have that could possibly interest one of the Fair Folk?”

You took a deep breath and reached into your pocket. Slowly, deliberately, you extended your hand dropped the object on the table.

It was simple. A gold band with a decent-sized diamond set into it. Nothing particularly special. But the Fae’s eyes lit up the moment they landed on it. “Hm.” She extended her hand, fingers scratching across the table just in front of the ring, like she was afraid to touch it. “An unwanted engagement?” she asked.

“It was arranged for me. I wish to be free of it,” you said. Your tone was measured, even. No displaying how desperate you were. Any sign of that would be seized upon and used against you.

The Fae examined the ring thoughtfully. In a human market, giving up the ring would do nothing more than earn you some money to run away- it wouldn’t stop your fiancé from tracking you down or your parents from attempting to drag you back. But in a Faerie Market, objects weren’t the only things that could be exchanged. If you could pawn off the ring, you could pawn the engagement as well.

“A rich man,” the Fae murmured. “A businessman. Yes, I can see this being popular with some of my clients.” She gave a sharkish grin. “Perhaps I could accept this.”

“If you have something I am interested in, we can trade,” you said. Her eyes narrowed a little. It was a display of power- you were reminding her that if you didn’t agree, if she didn’t have something you considered valuable as well, you wouldn’t trade. But she was interested. That was something. You could use the leverage.

“Such a small, mortal token won’t be enough to trade for most of my wares,” she said with a wave of her hands. “But I think I have a few objects that might interest you.” She placed a series of small boxes on the table and opened them at once with a flick of her fingers. Each one contained a circle of metal. “A ring for a ring, perhaps?”

You looked at them closely. Each ring was completely distinct from the other. One was silver, massively studded with diamonds like stars. Your skin prickled when you looked at it. It was dangerously ostentatious. Putting that on seemed a bad idea.

The ring next it was the opposite- it was a bronze band, nothing more, nothing less. Even the box it sat in was simple carved wood. Too simple. Too unassuming. Something as innocent-looking as that could only be dangerous in the hands of a Fae.

The three other rings were neither particularly ornate, nor terribly plain. One was a dark silver metal with an emerald set neatly in the center, one was a simple gold with several pearls arranged in a cluster, and the last one was nearly black, with rubies inset in the shape of a flower. You weren’t much of a jewelry expert, so you couldn’t tell how much any of them would be with monetarily. Not that it mattered much. The rings themselves weren’t as important as what they represented.

“These three,” you said, pushing away the two rings you’d rejected outright. “What of their worth makes them equal to my trade?”

The Fae leaned over the table, pushing the dark and emerald ring toward you. “This one comes from the deep woods. It ensures a long, fertile life. Near immortality, success with creative endeavors, an affinity toward plants.”

Your ears tingled at the ‘fertile’ bit. Hm. Fae tended to have a thing about the fertility of humans, and something about that was unsettling. You turned your gaze to the next ring. “This one?”

“Ah! This one is from a great sea, deep within its heart. The ocean will listen when you command. Water will be unable to harm you. Your command over it will be absolute, and the creatures within will understand your desires. A powerful gift, to have dominion over the seas.”

This one seemed… interesting. Though you’d never had much of a liking toward water. There was no fear there- you’d just never found it all that pleasant to be in. Your second concern was the power of the ring. Absolute command over the ocean? It didn’t seem like a commensurate trade for the engagement you offered, which meant there was something else going on. Too suspicious. You moved on to the final ring.

Sensing your attention shift, the Fae nudged the ring toward you. “This one is from the depths of the Earth. Fortune favors those who take it. You’ll find the odds tilt in your favor more often than not.”

Hm. Fortune wasn’t an uncommon Fae gift. Usually it was given to humans the Fae took a shine to, but sometimes a person could get it in a trade. The favor of fortune seemed like a safe enough gift, and one that was practically useful. All you needed was that little bit of extra luck to keep you safe from your parents deciding to betroth you to someone else.

Impulse and desire were dangerous things to have in the Fae Market, but you took the ring regardless. Instantly, the Fae snatched your ring from the table. Her mouth stretched into an enormous grin, and you were reminded of an eel or snake in the way her jaw stretched. “A favorable trade for both of us, I think. Place the ring on your finger and you will find your fortune substantially changed."

The way she said it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Just as you’d opened your mouth to speak, a gust of wind blasted you in the face. When you opened your stinging eyes once more, the Fae was gone.

The ring box rested heavily in your hand. It was closed once more, though you didn’t remember closing it. Perhaps it was magic, but it almost seemed to burn into your palm.

You turned back to the Fae Market. The cacophony that had faded into the background when you’d been trading as back in full, pounding against your eardrums. Glancing at the stalls stirred a longing in your chest. Technically, you still had something to trade. You could keep going, trying your luck to get something better, something powerful-

No. you shook your head to dislodge the thought. It was dangerous enough to trade for an item that you knew the value of. All you knew about this ring was that a Fae had been willing to trade it for yours. You had no guarantee about what the value would be to anyone else. It was an easy way to get scammed out of something, or to get your hands on something that would screw you over. With another deep breath to keep your head squarely on your shoulders, you left the market.

Your skin prickled with nerves as you walked the long path back to your home. The last time you had left, you had been furiously protesting the marriage. Your mother had promised that, on your return, you would be locked in your room to await your marriage. With the engagement sold, your parents would have no reason to do so. Regardless, you didn’t plan to stay for long. Just enough time to gather your belongings, find a horse or carriage, and seize some money to flee.

The house was warmly lit when you entered. Hurriedly, you shucked your boots and cloak. It was quiet, still. With any luck, you’d be able to avoid your parents entirely and-

“You’re back.” There was barely a sound as your mother appeared around the corner. She wore her usual scowl, lines set deep into her forehead.

“I am,” you said, keeping your voice light. “I went for a walk. To clear my head.”

There was something in the way your mother was looking at you that made you unsettled. Sure, she didn’t like it when you went out on your own, but she seemed… angrier than usual. The idea that she still remembered the engagement flitted across your mind again. You batted it away. She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t, she couldn’t, she couldn-

A hand seized your upper arm. You tried to tug yourself away, but all you succeeded in doing was awkwardly wrenching yourself around in his grasp. Your father’s expression was just as hard-set as your mother’s, and he was holding on tight to you.

“What are you doing?” you asked. Panic made your voice shake as much as you tried to keep it steady. “I only went out for a walk! I don’t need-”

“I thought your return meant you had thought better of opposing the engagement. Apparently, I was wrong,” your mother said.

Engagement. Your head was spinning. Fuck. You had thought the engagement would be lost the instant you handed the ring over. It should have been! That was what you were trading!

Bewilderment and panic prevented you from fighting until you were nearly to your room, and by then, it was too little, too late. Your father tossed you in, sending you skidding across the wooden floor. Before you could even scramble back to your feet, the door banged shut. You threw yourself against it just in time to hear the heavy clunk of the lock sliding into place.

You slumped down the door. It would be logical to be crying, wailing, cursing everything that had led you to this point. But you couldn’t even manage tears. All you could do was breathe through the massive weight that pressed on your chest and think.

She had tricked you. That was the only explanation. Somehow, she had taken the ring and left the engagement intact. For what reason, you couldn’t say. Maybe she wanted a human-made ring, for whatever reason. Maybe she’d wanted to get rid of her wares quickly without needing to take on a mortal husband. Or maybe she had done it just to be a tricky asshole. The Fae were like that, sometimes. Incomprehensible to mortals and often straight-up dicks.

You shifted your attention to the ring box still in your hand. The same dark ring you’d traded for sat inside. Well, that was something. Maybe your fiancé would at least be annoyed you’d traded away his ring. You pulled it out of the little box and rotated it in your hand. It seemed to be the right size to fit you.

The ring was supposed to give you good fortune. You snorted. Right. Yeah. It seemed to be working well so far.

You rotated the ring back and forth, running your fingers along the smooth metal. Maybe you needed to be wearing it. That seemed to be how a lot of Fae goods operated. You could really use a bit of good luck right now. Then again, if you’d been tricked in the deal, you had no guarantee exactly what the ring did. Why trade a perfectly good Fae ring for just an ordinary human one unless there was something wrong with it?

She’d said it would cause good fortune. That, at least, must be true. The Fae couldn’t lie. Maybe it was one of those cursed objects that caused temporary good fortune and then brought bad luck in equal or greater measure. It was probably a bad idea to put it on. And yet, the temptation to just slip it on your finger was there.

All you needed was a tiny bit of good luck. Just something, enough to let you escape. Then you could throw the ring away and eat whatever bad luck came your way because of it. Once you were out, you could make your own luck. You just needed that one little spark to set things off.

With a deep breath, you slipped the ring on your finger.

Nothing changed. Not that you’d really been expecting a flash of light or a sudden shift. Fae gifts were usually more subtle than that. You gave another hurried glance around the room. There! Had that window been open a moment ago? You scrambled over to it and thrust it fully open. There was just enough space to wriggle out, though your room was on the second floor. There was a bit of a drop. Not enough to kill, by any means, but an awkward landing would certainly snap your ankle.

The ring’s fortune seemed to be holding so far. Maybe you would have a lucky landing. You braced yourself against the window, then climbed mostly out of it. For a moment, you sat on the edge of the sill. You took the time to brace yourself, then pushed off from the window.

Your stomach lurched up into your throat as you fell. Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut and tensed for impact.

It didn’t come. At least, not the jarring sensation of hitting the ground feet-first. Instead, you landed in something softer, warm, and immediately recognizable. Someone had caught you in their arms.

Your eyes flew open, but you didn’t register the features of the person holding you. All you registered was that you’d been found out, you’d been caught, you needed to get away.

The arms released you. You half-fell onto the ground, your knees immediately buckling. Disoriented by both the fall and the unexpected intrusion of another person, you scrambled back toward the house. Once you were a small distance away, you were able to get a look at the person who had caught you.

You sort of wished it was one of the people who worked for your parents. You almost wished it had been your parents.

The person standing in front of you was not human.

He looked Fae, in that there was an odd ethereal quality to his presence. There was no actual mist, but you felt like he should have been shrouded in it. His robes, a pale silver, swirled around him in an absent breeze. He stood at least three inches taller thanks to his heeled boots. Bangles and bracelets dangled from his wrists.

Not just from two wrists. From his four wrists. He had four arms, one set in the normal position, the second set slightly below. His fingers were capped with claws, their color fading from the deep purple-gray of his skin to a charcoal black. A long, thin tail swayed casually behind him. From just above his eyebrows curved a ridged set of horns. They branched only an inch or so from where they sprouted, one line growing straight back and the other curving forward into a near-circle.

His eyes were striking. Even from more than a couple feet away, you could tell they were a brilliant ruby red. Looking at them was like staring at molten rock, dangerous but mesmerizing.

He cocked his head, twining a strand of his long black hair around his finger. “Quite a poor greeting for your fiancé, isn’t it?” His voice was softer than you’d expected, almost whispery. It made the back of your neck tingle.

“My fiancé?” you repeated, clambering to your feet.

“You made a trade.” the Fae said. His lower set of arms folded over his chest while the upper set made a shrugging gesture. “One ring for another. One fiancé for another.”

Your stomach sank to somewhere around your knees. Fuck. You were a complete idiot. A fair trade. You hadn’t traded a normal ring with a husband attached to get a magic ring. You’d traded your mortal engagement for a Fae one. A perfectly even trade.

As if to punctuate your mood, the thickly clouded sky opened up and rain fell in icy sheets.

“We should get inside,” he said, completely unperturbed. One of his lower hands extended toward you. “I am looking forward to meeting my inlaws.”

You were too stupefied to resist. His lower hand curled around your fingers, his upper hand resting on your shoulder. You could feel his claws resting delicately on your skin.

The Fae marched you around to the front of the house. The door swung open ahead of you and he stepped into the entranceway. “We’ll need towels,” he said, vaguely addressing one of the nearby servants. She dropped her unblinking gaze and hurried off toward the laundry room. Another one headed out in the opposite direction, presumably to fetch your parents.

“Hopefully you don’t catch your death of cold,” he said, his lips lifting into a sharp smile. “I would hate for my future spouse to leave me so soon.”

You glared back. “What do you want?”

“Want?” He tilted his head, his smile shrinking a little. “I wish to meet my intended, of course, and your lovely family.”

The idea of your parents being ‘lovely’ made you snort. “Yes, I’m sure a Fae has nothing better to do than galivanting around, snatching up unsuspecting mortals into marriage.”

He gave you a strange look, eyes narrowing, but the servant returned with the towels before he could say anything else. He took one and ran it over his head, somehow managing to navigate his horns with complete ease.

You’d just managed to get dry enough to stop dripping when your parents hurried into the hall. For half a second, you thought they would be surprised or confused by the inhuman presence next to you. But your mother immediately began gushing and your father stepped forward, hand extended for a shake. The Fae returned it with one of his upper arms, his lower ones folding close to his chest again. Fae magic. Whether he looked like a human to them or if the magic simply made engagement to a Fae seem normal, you weren’t sure, but you could expect no help from your parents.

So, same as normal, really.

“It’s really a pleasure to meet you in person,” your mother gushed. Her gaze fell on you and you could see the question form in her eyes. “I see you’ve already met our child.”

“Ah, yes. My future spouse seemed incredibly eager to meet me. I can’t say I’m not flattered.” He gave you a toothy smile. You forced yourself to return it. “But I’m afraid we’re thoroughly soaked. Might we freshen up before dinner?”

Your mother was still frowning suspiciously at you, but as long as your future husband was there, she wasn’t going to scold you. Small mercies. “Well, certainly. We have a guest room set aside, and I’m certain the servants can bring you something to change into-”

“Oh, come now. I’ll be married to this darling in a matter of days,” he said, gesturing to you. “Surely it matters little if we change in the same room. I am so looking forward to getting to know my fiancé. I’ve heard so many delightful things.”

Judging by the looks on your parents’ faces, they weren’t pleased. But they were also desperate to not offend your fiancé, and, after a moment of struggle, they caved. “Certainly,” your mother said. “I’m sure you can find your way there on your own.” The look she gave you indicated that if anything happened in that room, you would suffer for it.

The Fae hummed infuriatingly as he followed you to your room. He seemed to be having the time of his life. Even your agitation served only to amuse him further.

As soon as the door to your room was shut and bolted, you rounded on him. “Who are you?”

He placed one of his upper hands on his chest, his lower hands spread in a supplicating gesture. “Why, dear, I’m your fiancé! Your family recognized me just fine. Am I to understand that you don’t know me?”

“Cut the shit,” you hissed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

He shrugged his lower shoulders as his upper hands busied themselves with undoing his clothes. “Perhaps.”

You pinched at the bridge of your nose. A headache was starting to throb at your temples. “You’re my fiancé,” you confirmed.

“As you are mine,” he said. “As I understand it, you traded one for another.” He grinned. “Quite an improvement, I think.”

“I was trying to escape an involuntary marriage, not find a new one!” you snarled. The Fae looked thoroughly unintimidated.

“The ring was a contract,” he said. “As soon as you put it on, we were bound to marry.”

You snatched the ring off your finger and tossed it at him. It bounced off his chest and rolled away. “Then I give it back! I don’t want this!”

For the first time, amusement completely vanished from his expression. You felt a sense of vicious satisfaction. “The contract was made as soon as you donned the ring,” he said. His tone was icy. “It cannot be rescinded.”

You ground your teeth. “Engagements can be broken.”

He gave a superior sniff. “Human engagements, perhaps. But Fae have ways of making things far more binding.” He turned and plucked the ring from the floor. “Removing the ring will not break our contract. Once you placed the ring on your finger, you were bound to marry me, as I was bound to marry you.” He took your hand and slipped the ring onto your left ring finger. His fingers were oddly warm around yours.

Perhaps the stress of the day was catching up to you, because you felt abruptly dizzy. Paying no mind to your still-soaked clothes, you collapsed on your bed. Your fiancé watched you, his tail swaying back and forth in a wide arc behind him. “Engagement between Fae are contracts,” he said, and his tone was incrementally softer. “Once it has been entered, there is no way for the participants to break it. The only solution is marriage.”

“What’s stopping me from leaving? Or just refusing to marry?” you asked. Your tone was belligerent, but you could feel your resolve faltering. There was no way it was that easy.

He gave a shrug, removing the last of his outer clothes and beginning to strip his undergarments. “I cannot assume my full title until I marry, and when you donned the ring, you tied yourself to me. I will be able to find you if you run, track you to the ends of the Earth, if I must. Neither of us are free to continue our lives until we marry.”

You licked your lips. “So, either I marry you or I spend the rest of my life being pursued by an angry Fae.”

He lifted a brow. “Be grateful. There are many Fae who would be more than willing to place you in captivity and starve you until you agreed to marry them or died.”

“So instead of killing me, you’re just going to trap me in a marriage I don’t want? Wow, you are generous,” you said, making your voice as sarcastic as possible. He gave you an unimpressed look.

“This marriage is a business arrangement,” he said. “We will be expected to work together. You will be expected to live with me, in the land of the Fair Folk. But I am not cruel, and I can make some… concessions to our arrangement. I do not expect monogamy, nor do I expect, for the most part, any physical components to our relationship. With certain exceptions, you will be able to spend your time mostly as you wish. I can provide riches and comforts for you. It will benefit you, and all I ask in return is your cooperation in certain… deals.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Elaborate.”

“Business dealings, when working with those who cannot lie, can be difficult. I have little experience detecting lies, nor do I have a way to respond in kind. Having a mortal partner makes this… easier.”

You parsed that. “You want to marry a mortal so I can lie for you.”

His lips pressed together. “That is an oversimplification. There are other things mortals can be useful for. But yes, lying will be your primary duty.” He gave a vicious grin. “I expect you’ll not have much of a problem with that?”

You ignored his barb. “Why do I need to marry you, then? Can’t you just employ a mortal? It seems like it would be a lot easier.”

“Marriage is the oldest of contracts, and one of the deepest. It’s not just business. We tie our very lives together. It lessens the chances of you betraying me. A contract could be wriggled out of. Marriage is harder.”

“We’ll be married for business reasons, then.” Well, that wasn’t terribly different from the marriage you’d been trying to escape.

“As I said, I’m willing to be very lenient with the, mm, emotional aspects of our marriage,” he said. “There will be minimal obligations for physical romance, and none for emotional. As long as your loyalty remains primarily to me, you are free to pursue any other partners you wish. I shan’t stop you.”

“Minimal physical obligations?” you repeated. His nose wrinkled a little.

“It is likely we will be expected to produce a child at some point. And you’ll be expected to lie about the consummation of our marriage. But, as I said, I have no interest in forcing you to be with me. Only provide the proper business arrangements and I will be satisfied.”

You considered that. It was not, strictly speaking, a good deal. But it was better than the one you were escaping. No doubt that your prior spouse would have had as many dalliances as he pleased while insisting that you remain loyal to him alone. And you’d likely have been confined to the house and whatever tasks he wanted you to perform. This was at least an improvement.

“Fine,” you said. “I don’t have much of a choice, I suppose.”

“There’s always a choice,” the Fae hummed. “It’s just that some choices have more severe consequences than others.”

He slipped his underclothes off. Despite yourself, you stared. His four arms let to four well-defined pecs, and his toned stomach, while not exactly rippling with muscles, certainly wasn’t bad to look at. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t comment.

In an effort to clear your mind, you turned away and started changing yourself. “Am I going to have the pleasure of knowing my future husband’s name?”

You could hear his smile as he spoke. “I’m not that foolish. I know far better than to hand out my name to unsuspecting mortals. You may not have my true name. But, if you wish, you can call me Pelatio.”

He didn’t ask for your name in return. You assumed he already knew it. Keeping your back to him, you changed into your dry clothes.

Dinner was a strange affair. It was hardly quiet- both your parents talked animatedly with Pelatio, and he talked back, joking and smiling with ease. But it was all strangely empty. Pelatio spoke about business and land ownership vaguely enough that it sounded like he was talking about human affairs, and your parents deftly spoke about their pleasure at the prospect of marriage, making it sound like they were thrilled their child was going to be happy rather than just glad they’d made a fortuitous business arrangement. It was like watching a carefully constructed dance, where both parties remained within arm’s reach of the truth, but never close enough to touch.

Perhaps, you reflected as you plowed through your third glass of wine, you didn’t only need to be a Fae to get good at deceptive truth-telling. Maybe it was a trait of all upper-class assholes.

Unfortunately, your habit of getting wildly drunk in your youth meant that the wine at dinner wasn’t strong enough to make you anything more than mildly tipsy. Dizzy and disgruntled, you collapsed into bed as soon as you were close enough, and fell asleep without even changing your clothes.

The sunlight woke you, and you became almost immediately aware of a very annoying humming. Blinking against the burning rays, your gaze focused on Pelatio. He was flipping through an old, ratty notebook, humming to himself and wearing the most self-satisfied grin you’d ever seen.

“Glad you’re awake,” he said without so much at glancing as your face to confirm. “I’ve been reading this rather interesting tome I found in your desk drawer. Though, I would like to know how much of this is genuine. Did you truly drink a pint of liquor, then strip to your underclothes in front of the entire harvest festival?”

You scrambled to your feet. “Give that back.”

He handed it over with a smug expression, which you could only assume meant he’d read all of it already. “I merely wanted to know more about you, since you’re so delightfully withholding.”

“You could have asked,” you snapped.

“Mortals lie,” he said simply. “It’s a bit of an advantage you have over me. At least if I answer a question, you are guaranteed the truth.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’ll tell me the truth.”

“I can tell you nothing else,” he said. You gave him an irritated look as you tucked the diary back into your desk.

“Then tell me about yourself,” you said. “What’s your most embarrassing moment?”

His lips pulled back from his teeth in something between a smile and a sneer. “Get changed. We depart in two hours.” With that, he turned to head out of the room.

“You said you would tell the truth!” you called after him.

“I said if I answered,” Pelatio called over his shoulder. “I elected not to.”

That gave you enough material to cuss him out on the entire time you were getting changed. And it wasn’t a short process.

You couldn’t exactly say you were sad to be leaving your house, even if you were heading to a magical land of unknown dangers. Your mother fussed performatively, making sure that you were wearing a sufficiently warm cloak and all the rest. The sharp squeezes on your shoulder needed to verbal translation- don’t fuck this up. If only she was aware exactly how intensely you’d already fucked everything up.

Your future husband watched with no small amount of amusement as you detached yourself from your parents and walked over to him. “How terribly sweet. Are you certain you don’t want to spend more time with them?”

“Shut up,” you snapped through your teeth. He lifted a brow, but turned on his heel and gestured toward the great, dark carriage that had arrived moments ago.

It was clearly a Faerie carriage, from the strange, overly-elongated horses that pulled it to the fact that the inside was illuminated with no clear source of light. Neither of your parents seemed to care, if they could see it. They just waved you off, expressions cheery. Maybe you were reading too much into it, but there seemed to be more than a tinge of relief in their expressions.

The carriage door slammed shut once you and your fiancé were inside. With a rap on the wall, he started the carriage moving at a steady pace.

“Not sad to see them go?” he asked. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Not sad to see the people who sold me off like a piece of meat for the last time? What do you think?” Despite your brash tone, your voice gave the tiniest of quivers. Dammit. You shouldn't be sad- you’d spent most of your life trying to get away from them. And yet, your eyes felt hot and there was a strangling lump in your chest.

Pelatio looked at you for a moment, toying with the end of his sleeves. Finally, he reached into his pocket and thrust a handkerchief at you. “Here. I’ll hardly be pleased if you start getting tears on the upholstery.”

“I’m not going to cry,” you said, but you took the cloth anyway.

“If you say so.” He shrugged with both shoulders, then turned to gaze at the wall. You occupied yourself by absently folding the handkerchief into various shapes and trying not to think about anything at all.

The trip felt like it took hours and only a few minutes at the same time. It gave you the sensation of falling asleep and waking up knowing that hours had passed, but feeling like it had been no time at all. The disorienting feeling only got worse when Pelatio opened the door and helped you out.

The terrain was rocky, with only sparse bits of plant life jutting out from the ground. Not that you could see much of it. A mist so thick it was nearly a solid covered the land. Though it was only a short distance away, the manor was little more than a silhouette against the milky sky. You could see a few towers stretching up into the sky. The ground in front of the manor was split in a chasm that circled the entire location. Only a stone bridge allowed passage across the canyon.

“Take care not to go wandering without a guide,” Pelatio said as he strode toward his home. “It’s quite easy to get turned around here.”

Obviously, you thought, but you didn’t say it out loud. You merely followed him, taking in as much of the landscape as you could. There wasn’t really much to see. It was just an endless expanse of stone ground and white sky.

Up close, the manor appeared to be made out of obsidian. Pure black and almost frictionless to the touch, you felt reluctantly awed by it. At the very least, you would be living somewhere nice.

The front hall was dim, illuminated only by small red and yellow lights that floated around the ceiling. Pelatio shed his coat and tossed it aside. It was lifted away but some invisible force before it could touch the ground.

“Infuego!” Pelatio’s voice echoed down the great hall. The lights around the ceiling swirled in a tornado before disgorging a spurt of flame. It coiled to the ground in front of you, flickering and twisting until it formed a roughly-humanoid shape. There were no clear eyes in its face, but you got the sense it was looking at you. Pelatio waved his hand at it. “Now, now. Mortal-safe form, please.”

The fire flickered, like a guttering candle flame, then extinguished. Underneath the flames, they looked like a roughly normal human, to an extent. No extra arms or tail or strangely-shaped limbs. But their skin was strangely reflective, catching the light like a gemstone. Their hair was a mix of reds, yellows, and oranges, falling down their back in thick waves. It was their eyes that were the least human, because they had none. Their sockets were instead filled with flickering flames.

“Take my dear spouse up to the northeast wing. I assume everything’s prepared?” Infuego dipped their head in a tiny nod. “Wonderful. Go on.” He flapped all four of his hands at you in a dismissive gesture.

“Where are you going?” you asked. Despite not being particularly interested in spending time with him, you were still kind of insulted that he was ditching you the first instant he could.

“Wherever,” he said. “Lots to take care of, I’m certain. Don’t trouble yourself with it.” With no further elaboration, he strode through a doorway to your left and vanished.

“Come.” Infuego’s voice was quieter than you expected, and slightly raspy. “I will take you to your room.”

You followed them in silence, up a winding staircase and past halls with far too many portraits- most of them seemed to be of Pelatio or his family. You took pause at one in particular. It seemed to be of his family, his father and mother standing behind several children. Only one had the same crimson eyes as he did, though that was the only way you could recognize him. The wide, excited smile he had was a far cry from the sneering smirks that you’d seen on his face since you’d met him. Something in your chest gave the tiniest of pangs. Somehow, it was hard to imagine any Fae as a child, but clearly, he had been. Chubby-cheeked and cheerful. How strange.

Infuego led you to a large set of double doors. “This marks your portion of the house,” they said. “Only those who work and live here will be able to enter without your permission.” They pushed the doors open, then stepped back and gestured for you to enter.

You had expected your own room at best, but this was nearly large enough to be a full house. There was a small kitchen, a bedroom, some sort of office, a wonderfully large bathroom, and some sort of enclosed porch. “The master left the area mostly undecorated,” Infuego said, nodding toward the bare patches of the walls and shelves. “If you wish for anything to be brought to you, write it on that chalkboard and it will be provided.” They gestured to a blackboard set into the wall.

“Thank you,” you said, uncertain of what else to say. You glanced around your room, your gaze eventually falling on a gauzy white outfit that hung from your wardrobe. Clusters of pale flowers clung to the shoulders and fell down the back to make a lacy, train-like cape. Most of it was partially see-through, with only solid white straps protecting your modesty.

“Your wedding clothes,” Infuego said. “Try it on before bed tonight. Any adjustments will need to be made before the ceremony tomorrow.”

You started. “Tomorrow?” Infuego nodded. “Huh. Short engagement.”

“The master is not interested in being engaged. Only married. The ceremony will be short and simple, more for show than anything.”

“I though all Faeries appreciated a big party,” you said. Infuego shrugged.

“I have served the master for some time. As greatly as he may love extravagance, I believe he wants to get this particular ceremony over as quickly as possible.”

“What’s he so irritated about? He’s the one who wanted this wedding,” you said. Infuego looked at you. The swirling flames they had for eyes made it hard to read their expression, but you thought you detected pity.

“I appreciate your situation. You came to this marriage unwillingly, and anger at the master is understandable. But he has limited power in this situation as well. He is the youngest of his family, and in order to retain even a shred of the power his family holds, he must marry that which his parents demand. And they have requested he marry a mortal.”

The tiniest pang of pity swelled in your chest. For a moment, you saw that he was trapped, just as trapped as you were, forced by his parents into a marriage he didn’t want.

“He is not cruel. He will allow you a great deal of freedom. He does not want to trap you any more than he is trapped himself.” Infuego swept into a low bow. “Try on the clothes. I will wake and prepare you for the ceremony tomorrow.” They turned on their heel and strode out, the great doors swinging shut behind them.

You turned back to the clothes. There was still a tight twist of anger in your chest, but beneath it, you felt the tiniest stirrings of sorrow. Trapped as pawns of your parents, both of you. With a sigh, you gathered the outfit into your arms. There was nothing else to do. You would play along, and so would he, and within twenty-four hours, you would be wed.

Link to the second part of the story is here.

#exophilia writing #Faerie #fae boyfriend #fae lover #monster boyfriend #monster lover #male monster #enemies to lovers #monster X human #fae

[imthebadguyyy]

A/N - based off of this sinful photograph

Suggested listening - Wildside by Normani and Kiss It Better by Rihanna

Wildside

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!littlemix!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You've been on tour for a while, and you miss your loverboy. But when he surprises you on tour, its bound to get spicy.

Warnings - smut (not well written)

The snap of hips. The soft groans and moans. The sound of pants. The sound of Rihanna's 'Kiss It Better' blaring through the walls. The bed knocking against the wall as Lewis's hands squeezed your hips, the intensity of the thrust pushing the bed against the wall. The high pitched moan that left your mouth as you reached your high, eyes closing as stars exploded behind your eyelids, as your boyfriend came right after you, your walls clenching as he came. Even after reaching your high, you didn't want to open your eyes, far too consumed in the earth shattering pleasure that was coursing through your veins, until a soft hand reached to pull your chin up, soft brown eyes looking into your own, clouded with lust and euphoria.

Pulling your mouth into his in a heated kiss, Lewis moved his hand to rest on your bare stomach, squeezing your tummy softly as he deepened the kiss. Pulling away he let his head droop onto your bare chest. "That was.." he began, far too blissed out to think of an adjective. "Godly" you said, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to come to terms with the intensity of your orgasm. Laughing he leaned back up to kiss your nose, before standing up and walking to the bathroom. You heard the tap running, and the sound of the dustbin opening and closing. You closed your eyes again, the aftershocks still coursing through your body.

Opening them again slowly, you saw Lewis walk towards you, towel in hand, and a lazy smile on his face. He gently cleaned your thighs, finishing with kisses on both of them. He reached up and wiped your torso, which was gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, before running the towel over your nose, cheeks, eyes and mouth. He dropped the towel in the clothes hamper near the bathroom door, pulling on his boxer shorts and and pulling out one of his t shirts from the cupboard. "What about the clothes on the floor" you piped up, finally beginning to wake up from your post pleasure state. "When did it get so messy?" He said, spotting 5 different clothing items in 5 different corners of the room. "When you decided to run your hand up my dress in a restraunt" you replied, throwing him a fake glare.

"You liked it" was his cocky reply, smirk spreading over his face as you flushed and ran a hand through your hair. "I did not" you lied, watching as he raised his eyebrows. "Oh really ? Thats not what you were saying 5 minutes ago- oh wait, you weren't saying anything at all. You were too busy moaning my name to say anything else-" "OKAY fine I loved it. Now shut up and bring your fine ass back for cuddles"

*-*-*

That was a month ago. Now you've been away for nearly one and half months, away with the girls on the LM5 tour. You loved touring, it was the best part of being a singer, getting to see the music you girls made together come to life on a stage in front of thousands and thousands of screaming fans. It was a thrill like no other. The only problem was that you were away from home. Distance was never an issue for the two of you, after all, he was a Formula 1 driver. It was very rare that he was home, except during the breaks and the gaps till race weekend, but ever since you two had started dating, he tried to be with you whenever you could. Sometimes, your shows would be in places where the races were too, and then he'd definitely turn up. But it was a difficult thing to do all the time, and some nights on tour were spent pulling all nighters as you talked to each other on the phone, till one of you eventually fell asleep.

But you knew when you started dating him, this wouldn't exactly be a regular relationship. The two of you were doing your dream jobs, and they were both extraordinary. And you were willing to put in the work you had to put in to make the relationship work, and you did. Yet here you were in Madrid, feeling heartbroken and desperately wanting your boyfriend by your side. It had been a rough couple of weeks, you were jet lagged and tired, and although this was the second leg of the tour, and you had had a break, it was tiring. It was hard going to bed every night alone, when all you wanted was to cuddle your boyfriend.

Little did you know, Lewis was feeling the same. In fact he had missed you so much, he had told Angela and his publicist to cancel all events for a week, while he flew out to Madrid to see you. He had missed you, he had missed you more than he could put into words. But he also wanted to surprise you. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled down to Leigh Anne's contact, and sent her a text.

Lewis, Leigh Anne

Hey. Is Y/N asleep ?

Hey! No, she's in an outfit fitting.

Okay that's good. I need your help with something.

Sure how can I help ?

I want to surprise her by coming to see you guys in Madrid.

Oh thats wonderful ! She's been a little down in the dumps. I think she misses you.

I miss her too.

Let me know when, and I'll send a car to pick you up.

I'll be there on Saturday. Landing at 3:15 and I should be at the hotel by 4:30. Then I can get ready and surprise her at the show.

Okay done. I'll send the car around 5:30,so you can rest for a bit. You should be here by 6. The show's at 6:15.

Thank you! Can't wait : )

I'm so happy youre coming to see her ! I'll let the girls know.

*-*-*

As soon as he had finished texting, Lewis decided to start packing, the prospect of seeing you again sending a buzz of happiness running along his veins. God, he had missed you a lot. He turned to Roscoe, the dog sitting by his feet, looking up at his dad with his head cocked to one side. "I'm going to go see Mumma, Roscoe" he explained, smiling as the doggo barked in response. He wouldn't be able to take him to Madrid, he'd have to leave him with a dog sitter, but he couldn't feel too bad about it, since he had had Roscoe with him even when you were gone. And besides, Roscoe enjoyed the dog creche. He couldn't wait for Saturday.

Later in the evening, he sat down with a glass of wine, while the ringtone of your FaceTime rang through the empty house. After a few more seconds of ringing, the call was picked up, your tired face coming into view. "Hi darling" he said, noticing the tiredness in your eyes, and how much you were struggling to keep them open. "Hi bubs. Did you finish eating?" You asked, rubbing your eyes. "No, I've ordered soup" (did anyone get the reference ;) "Oh okay" was the reply. "What about you? What time is it?" "Its 9:20 AM" you replied, gently rubbing your eyes again, forcing yourself to stay awake.

"9:20? Thats pretty late baby. Why are you still sleepy?" "We were recording till 4 AM, so Im functioning on like 5 hours sleep right now" "Oh damn. Go back to sleep then baby" "Can't, rehearsal" was you reply, making him furrow his eyebrows. "Okay I guess. But don't tire yourself out" "I won't" "I love you" he said, smiling at you. "I love you"

*-*-*-*

The Madrid show was always a fun one. The fans were loud and you loved it. They were one of the best crowds you girls ever played for, and the show had its own adrenaline and excitement. But it was difficult to give a 100% when you were tired, but you really tried, you did. During Power, you hit highnotes you didnt think you could, during Woman Like Me you danced like there was no tomorrow. During Wasabi, you brought your sass level up to a 1000. It was during Bounce Back that you caught sight of a very familiar face in the audience. Unable to actually grasp if you had actually seen Lewis, you turned to Jade, who was on your side, and looked back at the crowd and back to her, asking for confirmation.

The smirk she gave you was answer enough. After that, focusing on giving an excellent performance increased tenfold. Every swirl of your hips, every flip of your hair, every wink you threw at the audience, it was all five times sexier. In the crowd, your boyfriend was well aware of what you were doing, and it was fair to say that you were succeeding at it. He could feel an uncomfortable sensation around his pants region, as his cock twitched uncomfortably in his pants. He couldn't wait till the show was over, and you two could have a show of your own.

*-*-*

"That was amazing darling!" Lewis said, spotting the 5 of you in your dressing room. "Oh look its Mr. Loverboy!" Perrie said, cackling as you rolled your eyes at her, before running up to your lover and jumping into his arms. "Hiya Bub! I missed you!" "I missed you too love. That's why I surprised you. I couldn't stand another day without you at home" he said, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you stable as you jumped into his arms. A chorus of "awws" echoed throughout the room, as the girls watched your cute little interaction. What wasn't cute however was the comment Lewis made in your ear, hiding his face in your ear so that the girls couldn't see. "I can't wait to get back to the hotel. I saw the performance you were putting on for me baby. You have no idea how hard I got, how uncomfortable I was standing in front of so many people when all I really wanted to do was fuck you"

You could feel your mouth become dry, and your heartbeat quicken, and you could feel the area between your thighs become wet. You tightened your grip around him, letting your crotch rub against his very softly. "I think it's time to go" you mumbled against his ear. "Okay girls, as lovely as it was to see you, I think it's time we go back to the hotel. I'm pretty worn out from travelling as well" "Yeah I'm pretty tired too" you replied, faking a large yawn. "Alright then, we'll see you guys tomorrow!" Leigh Anne said, leaning forward to give you a hug. After you finished hugging all the girls, the two of you made your way to the car, eagerly waiting to get back home.

The car ride home was tense. The tension was apparent in the air, reverberating through the air, choking you in a way you revelled in. The air was thick with tension, and it was suffocating you in the best way possible. It was almost too much to take. When the hotel came into sight, you practically leapt out of the car, and rushed to the door, an equally ruffled Lewis beside you. But he was not going to give in to you so easily. He enjoyed seeing you flustered. And he was not a person that gave someone what they wanted when they asked for it,no. He was going to have you desperate for it. Smirking to himself, he made his way to the reception, grabbing you by the waist as he went.

Throwing him a confused look you followed, slightly frustrated. "Hello sir, how can I help you?" the man at the reception asked, eyes going slightly wide as he recognized the two of you. "Hi! I just wanted to ask, till what time is your pool and spa open?" He asked, sliding his hand down to the back of your dress. "The pool closes at 10 pm sir, and the spa at 9 pm. We open the pool at 7 am and the spa at 11pm"he replied, struggling to maintain his professionalism as he spoke to one of the best drivers in Formula 1. "Alright thank you. And what time does breakfast start?" Lewis asked, hand pressing down on your ass, ever so discreetly. "Breakfast is from 6-10 am sir" "Thank you so much"

Next to him, you were fuming. Of course he was going to ask questions to which he already knew the answers to. A painful throb between your legs made you let out a small whimper, and the man at the reception looked at you with concern in his eyes. "Ma'am are you alright?" He asked, eyeing your stiff posture and tense state. "Yes, just tired, thank you" you replied, a little stiffly, but it was hard to concentrate when Lewis's promise of fucking you senseless kept replaying in your mind. "Alright then, good night" Lewis said, biting back a smirk at your flustered state. He knew getting you all riled up would lead to some seriously earth shattering sex, and he couldn't wait. But first, he definitely wanted to tease you, to push you over the edge, just a little more.

Your room was on the 16th floor, and as the two of you made your way into the elevator, he eyed you up and down, eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts. The minute the door shut, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips in a steamy kiss you'd be remembering the next day. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing hard, eliciting a moan from your lips. The moment your lips parted, he was pushing his tongue into yours, his other hand coming up to pull on your hair roughly, relishing in the gasp that left your lips. As suddenly as he started, he stopped, pulling back and standing almost nonchalantly against the wall.

Trying to wrap your head around what happened, you gripped the wall with your hand, feeling your legs grow weak to a point where you felt like you couldn't stand on your own. You could feel your wetness dripping, threatening to run down your thighs, as the throbbing became even more painfully exciting. You looked down at the floor, eyes closing as your frustration grew more and more by the second. Finally, with a little 'ding', the elevator stopped at the 16th floor. The moment the door opened you stepped out on wobbly legs, trying your best to walk properly. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. As you turned one long corridor, Lewis suddenly grabbed your waist, pushing you against the wall again, to reach down and suck on your neck. You let out a gasp, and tried to run your crotch against his, but the retaliated with a slap to your ass, smirking when a high pitched moan left your lips. Lifting you up against the wall, he mumbled against your ear "the key card" your clouded mind was unable to process the words, too consumed by slight relief you were getting. "Get the key card baby" he repeated. This time you noted it, reaching down to his pants pocket to pull out the key card. You couldn't resist running your hand over his cock, feeling how rock hard he was. The thought of him fucking you senseless returned, and you let out a groan.

Grabbing the card from your hand, he opened the door, propping you up against the door in your bedroom. His eyes were filled with a raw, animal desire, as he dropped the card on the floor and reached up to unzip your dress. He ripped the zipper down, your dress falling to the floor in a crumpled heap. He locked his eyes on your heaving chest, hand reaching up to grab your chin, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand slid up your torso, reaching behind to unhook the red lacy bra you were wearing, letting it drop to the floor as he took in the glorious sight in front of him. You waited, wanting him to just touch you, but he just stared, eyes looking into yours, clearly saying "beg for it"

You couldn't help the soft "please" that left your lips, too desperate for some sort of touch. "Please what?' Lewis said, tightening his grip on your waist. "Please" was all you could say again, nearly whimpering again at the rough look in his eyes. "Use your words baby. Now, please what?" "Please just touch me!" You finally gasped out, moaning loudly when he licked a stripe down your chest before taking your right tit into his mouth. His hand fondled the left one, running his thumb over your erect nipple, the rough pad of his thumb sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His mouth sucked on the skin of your tit, before moving down to bite down on your nipple. You gasped again, pain and pleasure coursing through your body as his tongue ran over your nipple over and over till it nearly felt raw. He switched his actions, moving his mouth to your left tit instead, letting his hand harshly fondle the other. He continued the same process of biting, licking and sucking, till he was satisfied with himself. "I fucking love this baby. Seeing you all wet and needy for me. So what do you want? My mouth? My fingers? My cock? Or does my baby want them all ?" He asked, watching as your pupils dilated and you let out a strangled moan.

You let your crotch rub against his thigh, gasping when the friction went straight to your core. "Look at you darling. I asked you what you what you wanted, and you picked my thighs? Well, I want to see you dripping. I want to see you cum on my fingers, my mouth, my thighs and especially on my cock. I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again till you can't even stand on your own fucking legs. I want your thighs to be shaking around my head. I want to see you moan and groan and scream my name so loud, by tomorrow everyone in this hotel will know my name, because you'll spend all night screaming it" you moaned again, his words going straight to your core."Please Lewis, God, just make me cum please!" The desperation of your cry was enough for him to carry you to the bed, dropping your body onto the soft mattress.

He pulled of shirt, unbuttoning every button so you could see him do it. He could see your eyes grow dark, as his compass tattoo came into sight. You had told him it was one of your favourites, and he had used it against you ever since you had told him that. Smirking at you, he climbed onto the bed, lying down between your legs. You pushed yourself up against the headboard, spreading your legs wide for him. His eyes grew dark, as your core came into his view, shimmering with your juices. A near animalistic growl left his mouth, the sound hitting your core. He moved so that he was situated right in front of your core. He let his eyes take in the sight of you in front of him, snapping back to reality when you let out a groan of frustration. Throwing you a devilishly reassuring smile, he inched neared and nearer, till his nose was nearly touching your clit. Then he just lay there. Not moving. You could feel your heartbeat hammering against your chest, chest heaving up and down, an alarming intense feeling growing in your tummy. Finally, when it became too much you let out a small scream of frustration "Oh for fucks sake Lewis please just fuck me!" Your outburst brought a smile to his face. "Oh I will. Just not yet" and with that, he ran a finger along your slit, before finally slipping it into you. You let out a moan, finally getting the friction you had been desperate for. His fingers circled your clit, thumb gently pressing down, before he removed it,only to slam it back down on your sensitive clit, earning a scream of pleasure from you.

He slipped a second finger into you, scissoring around your clit, as your desperate cries of "oh, oh baby! Fuck, fuck lewis-" were lost in the heat of the moment. He leaned his head down to your core, letting his tongue run along your slit too, before licking around it, collecting your wetness on his tongue, before letting it harshly circle your clit. You bucked up into his mouth, feeling his tongue wrap around your clit. He sucked the nub harshly, his fingers still moving in and out of you. "Oh God, Oh GOD, Lew-I- oh! Oh God!" Your broken moans were music to his ears as he sucked your clit into his mouth. You could feel a strange intensity growing in your stomach, feeling a lot stronger than your usual orgasm. The band in your tummy was threatening to snap, but you needed that something more to help it snap. That something more came when Lewis sucked your clit into his mouth, letting it rest in between his teeth, before flicking it with his tongue.

With a cry of "Oh fucking hell, Lew-" you camr gushing into his mouth, your juices coating his fingers and gushing onto his tongue, as he let you ride out your orgasm on his deadly skilled tongue. Well, he had got his wish. Your thighs were shaking around his head, as your body tried to come to terms with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your body. Looking down, you saw him with his painfully hard cock, grinding down on the sheet, as he let out a moan at the relief the bedsheets gave him. Raising an eyebrow, you patted your thigh, signaling him to come over to you. "You loved on me so well bubs. But I can see how hard you are. Do you want to use me to get off?" You asked, watching the effect you had on him. All he could do was nod, as you sat up on your knees. "Stand up" you ordered, getting up from the bed as well.

You walked over to the wall, letting your body rest against it. Somewhat confused, Lewis followed you, standing in the space between your legs. "I tried to get off using your thighs didn't I? I think you'll enjoy it as much as I did. So use me. Use my thigh. Get off" looking at you in pure shock, your boyfriend moved forward, groaning when you pushed your leg against his throbbing cock. He relished in the friction, slowly beginning to move against your leg, moaning when he began to rub against your leg. He began to hump your leg faster, as the pleasure began to build up in his body, before you reached your hand down to cup his length in your hands, moaning when you realized your fingers didn't quite meet. You ran your fingers along his length. You pumped him, letting your thumb circle his sensitive tip, eliciting a soft whine from him. You circled faster, moving down to your knees, and letting your tongue run up his shaft very softly. Above you, Lewis slammed his hands against the wall, groaning when you took him into your mouth.

But a part of him still wanted to cum inside when he was fucking you (in a condom, because wrap it before you tap it) so he pulled you back up, smirking when you whined. "I know baby, but I just really wanna fuck you now. Back on the bed please, unless you want me to take you here against this wall" practically running, you clambered onto the bed. You watched as Lewis pulled out a condom, ripping the packet open before climbing back on top of you. He let his hand rest on your hip, eyes temporarily losing some of the animalistic need that had been present in them. Leaning down, he connected your lips together in a kiss, a searing, intense kiss that took your breath away. "Ready love?" He asked, looking into your eyes, looking to see if there was even a slight hint that you didn't want this. But you did.

With a sudden jolt, he thrust himself into you, groaning when your warm walls clamped down on him. His hips thrust into you, starting off slow, letting you adjust to his massive length. "My sweet baby,taking me so well. Does it feel good?" You couldn't even respond, mouth agape, as his the pace of his thrusts increased. "Answer me" he said, suddenly stopping. Almost crying out at the loss of pleasure, you looked at him with desperation. "Yes yes, fuck it feels so good, please don't stop!" "Thats all you had to say baby" he said, before pushing in again, slowly. Then, he pulled back out. Looking at him in confusion, you gasped when he slammed back into you, a high pitched moan of "Lewis!" leaving your lips. He moved so that he had a better hold of your hips, rocking the both of you back and forth, the intensity of his thrusts was so much that the bed knocked back against the wall. What he wasn't expecting was for you to take his left thumb up to your mouth, running your tongue over it before sucking on it.

Moaning, he started thrusting into you even harder, shifting so that he was directly hitting your g spot. "Oh, God ! Oh fuck, Baby that feels so good please keep going keep-oh!" The cry that left your lips was so loud, you were sure Perrie in the room next to yours had heard you. "Fuck baby, you take me so well" Lewis said, as he nearly hammered your g spot. He was so, so damn close to cumming, and when you leant up and bit a sensitive spot on his neck, he came, gushing into the guard between you two, but he wanted you to cum to, so he reached down to pinch and rub your clit, still riding out his orgasm in you, moaning when you came with a scream. He winced when your core spasmed on his sensitive cock, and he pulled out slowly, before collapsing next to you. Panting, you curled up to him, letting your hand rest on his compass tattoo. "Okay that was Godlike" you said, earning a tired laugh from your lover.

"Yeah it really was. I missed you" he said, allowing you to nuzzle into his neck, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "I missed you too" you replied, kissing the tattoo. "I love you too" As you lay there together, still revelling in the moment, your phone buzzed. Reaching over to check it, you saw your groupchat with the girls flooding with messages.

-*-*-

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Y/N, I'm filing a noise complaint. 🍆

Jade ✨ - Pez 😂 let them be. It's been a while for her.

Leigh 🦋- She really got some tonight huh? 😏

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️- LOL she did !! And it was obviously some goooood 'some' *wink wink*

Jade ✨- I could hear em too, and Im on the other end of the hall.

Leigh 🦋 - I know I did too! Must be some damn good sex. 😏

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Go Y/N !!

Jade ✨ - Can't wait till she reads this.

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Are they still going?!

Leigh 🦋 - No 😂 she's reading the messages. Y/N!! Yoohoo!

You - yes I'm here 🖕🏽

Jade ✨ - Did you have fun babe 😏

You - ..... yes

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - babe you can't really say no because we heard you

You- Im not saying I didn't have fun. But you guys need to calm down.

Leigh 🦋 - But its funnn

You - okay byeeee ❤

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Going for a round 2 😏?

You - okay I said bye.

Leigh 🦋 - she is !!

Jade ✨ - Go babe !

You - I need to leave this group.

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - No we love you !! ❤

Leigh 🦋 - Yeah don't leave us ❤

Jade ✨- Don't leave meee ! ❤

You - Haha I'd never leave you girls ❤ now bye.

Jade ✨ - bye babe !

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - bye you sexy minx 😏

Leigh - bye hun 💙

*-*-*

Smiling to yourself, you put your phone away, to see Lewis looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Who was it?" "Just the girls" you said, cuddling back up to him. "What did they say?" Giggling, you looked up to him and kissed his neck. "They said they're going to file a noise complaint. And they asked me if we were going for a round two" "Were we really that loud?" He asked, looking at you in surprise. "Yeah, even Leigh heard us and she's at the end of the hall!" "Damn" Lewis said laughing. "Well," he said, looking at you again, with a cheeky look in his eye, "they were right about one thing" "And what is that?" You asked, smiling at him mischievously. "We are going for a round two"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

@maxverstappenx @grandestrategia (because you are worth it 🦋💙)

#lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 #sir lewis #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x reader smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers imagines #f1 drivers smut #littlemix!reader #little mix 🙌🏼🦋 #little mix

[antimonarchy]

How to Create Image Descriptions

So I’ve been creating image descriptions on tumblr for about a month, and I wanted to share some helpful guides I’ve found on how to create them as well as my own tips that I’ve picked up. Video descriptions and transcripts are also necessary, but since I mostly focus on image descriptions that’s what this guide is about. This might get a bit long, so fair warning. 

What are image descriptions?

Image descriptions are a textual depiction of what is going on in an image, as shown with the image below. 

[Image ID: A picture of a person with short black hair working on a computer. They are sitting at a wooden table with a large blue pot of pink flowers in front of a grey brick wall. A guitar is propped up against the wall in the background, and there is a string of lights near the ceiling. /.End ID]

Why create image descriptions?

The primary reason for creating image descriptions is to allow people who are blind/have limited vision to experience visual content. Many people who are blind/have low vision use screenreaders, which read text out loud when it is clicked or hovered over with a mouse. A large amount of online content, such as pictures, graphics, or drawings, is visual and so possibly cannot be experienced by someone with vision problems. As a general rule of thumb, anything that can be dragged or dropped most probably requires a description. In addition, if someone has partial vision and attempts to zoom in on an image, sometimes it can become pixelated and impossible to understand. 

Some neurodivergent people might need a description to understand the tone of an image, such as the meaning of facial expressions of a person to understand what emotion the artist is trying to depict

Some people might not have high speed internet or have low computer memory, meaning that they turn off images in order to save space. This means that they as well might require descriptions of visual content

Are image descriptions the same as alt text?

no, alt text and image descriptions serve the same purpose, but they are different in how they are presented. Alt text, short for alternative text, is included in the html of an image and can be read by a screen reader. However, there are many reasons why many prefer image descriptions over alt text. 

There is a limit of 200 words in alt text on tumblr specifically (and not in other contexts, which makes this information only applicable here), which means that detailed images or graphics are unable to be described fully without possibly cutting out important information. 

People who require descriptions, but who do not use a screenreader, must right-click and search through the html of an image in order to find alt text, but with an image description they are saved that work. 

Who should create image descriptions?

Everyone who is able to should create image descriptions. A content creator is best able to communicate the message of their work through text, as they are the one who created it and thus understand its message the best. While of course it takes practice when starting out, over time image descriptions become second nature when posting visual content. Always check the notes of a tumblr post for an ID rather than reblogging without one. 

What should be included in image descriptions?

There is no simple answer to this question, there are a variety of resources and guides on how to create one, and you should not accept my advice as the ultimate authority, as I am by no means a professional, and only create descriptions in my spare time as part of the effort to make Tumblr more accessible. However, here is my information for those starting out. 

First, consider what type of visual content it is. Is it fanart of a tv show, a screenshot of a tweet, or an informational graphic meant to educate people on a particular issue? 

Then, consider what information is most important in the image. If the visual content is an image of a famous building, then in writing the description the focus should be on the building, rather than describing for instance the color of the sky, surrounding buildings, or the clothing of the people walking by, as they are not the information that is being presented. 

Perkins ELearning has an excellent list of things that should generally be included, which I will include here. In my experience, these are the most important elements to describe

The people and animals in an image

The background or setting of an image

Elements that relate to the context specifically, so if it was an image of a congested highway on a news website, the description would mention the packed cars

The colors of an image (don’t overdo it however, a simple ‘light blue’ will suffice, no need to say something like ‘a color blue that is similar to the color of a robin’s egg’ unless it is crucial to the viewer’s comprehension of an image)

Context for an image. For instance, imagine if someone had drawn a version of the Bernie Sanders ‘I am once again asking’ meme, with Eleanor Shellstrop from the Good Place saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place.” Rather than provide a description to the example such as:                                          [Image ID: A drawing of Eleanor Shellstrop saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place.” /.End ID] you would instead say                                                                                                [Image ID: A redraw of the Bernie Sanders ‘I am once again asking’ meme with Eleanor Shellstrop from The Good Place saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place. /.End ID]

If the image is of a social media post, include the username/handle of the creator as well as the reactions (likes/reblogs) if they are visible in the image, as they may be cut off by the original screenshotter. 

If it is a drawing or piece of art, always look for the artist’s signature when writing a description

How do I write an image description?

To start off, here is an example description written for a piece of art I made myself. 

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Suki from Avatar: The Last Airbender over a gold background.  She is shown from the shoulders up facing the viewer, and has a neutral expression. She is wearing metal armor over a light green tunic, and is wearing her Kyoshi Warriors facepaint and headdress. The artist’s signature ‘Astra’ is written in the lower right of the image. /.End ID]

In this description:

I made clear where the description begins and ends, so that someone with a screenreader is not confused. I usually use brackets ([ ]), write the words ‘Image ID’ (or video/gif/other) and finish with a slash, period, and the words End ID. (/.End ID)

I emphasized the type of image, in this case a digital drawing

I said the character’s name (obviously this may not be known if describing a photo or something you are not familiar with)

I described the background and the character’s clothing

I described her expression

I included the description of my signature.

This is my basic process for writing a description

I first say what the content is, such as a drawing, photo, or screenshot of a tweet.

I then use what is called Object-Action-Context for the most part, which UXDesign has a long article on https://uxdesign.cc/how-to-write-an-image-description-2f30d3bf5546. For example, [Image ID: A photo of a person standing in a crowd waving to someone out of view in front of a river. /.End ID] While obviously I would usually provide more information than that, Person = object, standing + waving to someone out of view = action, and ‘in a crowd’ = context. 

I describe the clothing that might be worn

I talk about the position that people in an image might be in, such as leaning against one another on a couch, or standing with their fingers intertwined

I talk about the expressions on their faces, if shown

I talk about their general appearance (if important to the description) such as hair color/length

As said before, I talk about the context of an image if necessary

If the background is a simple color, I usually include it in the first sentence of the description. However if it is more complicated, such as a river winding through a dense forest, I include that at the end of the description after describing the important elements. 

Typically if I am reblogging an image, I do not add on any commentary after creating an image description, as this allows others to reblog my description without my personal reaction. If I want to add on to an image, I usually reblog my description post. 

In general, it is best to remain objective when writing a description, meaning not including your opinion of the content. However especially in an informal setting, say for instance you were describing an adorable cow, I would see it as fine to say [Image ID: A small drawing of an adorable cow. /.End ID] because the emphasis is on the appearance. There isn’t a clearcut answer, and it really depends on the context. 

What are some tips for writing descriptions/common pitfalls?

If there is an element of an image like a line that represents an emotion, or a sound effect like ‘clang’ if something falls, include that in the description. For instance, [Image ID: ...beside the mug that has fallen on the floor, there are the words ‘sploosh’ indicating the sound of the water that has spilled out. /.End ID]

Put image descriptions first. Don’t hide them under readmores or any other text. If you have something with multiple images and you are the creator, place the description under each image in succession rather than all at the end. Readmores are ableist, as they require someone who has vision problems/one of the conditions described above to do more work to access the message of visual content. 

If you are mentioning the skin color and/or race of someone in an image, make sure you describe it for anyone else who might be in an image. Don’t just describe the race of someone who appears to not be white. This doesn’t mean that you have to describe race, such as if the character is one whose race is commonly known, just that if you do, make sure you do it for all characters/people in an image. 

In order to write IDs effectively, I’ve found it useful to download a screen reader. I use NVDA, which is entirely free and easy to use and can be downloaded here: https://www.nvaccess.org/download/. 

Insert + Q turns it off

While my guide has focused mostly on image descriptions, video descriptions are also necessary. However they are not my area of expertise, and differ slightly, so I would recommend anyone interested in them to check out this website https://www.washington.edu/accessibility/videos/

Transcripts, for those who are d/Deaf/Hard of Hearing, are also necessary for making content accessible, and might be required for content that also has a visual format, such as a Tiktok. I would recommend this website https://www.w3.org/WAI/media/av/transcripts/ for anyone interested in writing transcripts

What are some more resources I can check out?

Here are a series of websites that I have found while researching how to write descriptions

UX Design -  I mentioned UX Design earlier when talking about Object - Action - Context, this article is very useful and examines how to structure a description and provides very useful examples for beginners

Perkins E-Learning - This article is very useful in helping someone what to include in a description, such as clothing or background information, as well as providing some additional information on alt text if you are interested

Meloukhianet - This blog post by s. e. smith goes into detail on the elements of an image to emphasize depending on its context, using the example of a picture of their cat sunning himself. 

SOAP - This article by the Stanford Online Accessibility Program (SOAP) provides a large amount of information on the purpose of image descriptions and what content requires them

HubPages - This article by SOTD and Zera discusses the difference between sparse, lush, and overdone descriptions, which is the amount of information included, and if/when each should be used. 

I hope you found this information helpful, I encourage everyone to check out these websites, and my inbox is always open for questions!

#has id #please feel free to send me any questions you might have! #while I am not a professional by any definition of the term #accessibility is a large interest of mine and so I am more than happy to help #image descriptions #accessibility

[rainy-day-coffee]

Vice dorm leaders with a fem!s/o who doesn't care about her, but cares hella for other people? She is someone extremely lovely, but doesn't care for go to extremes to help someone?

Make sure to take care of yourself everyone! Go drink water! Or tea! Or better yet, coffee! Go eat something too!

If this isn’t exactly what you wanted, don’t hesitate to send in another request! On an entirely different note, I just realized that if I wrote a confession scenario for Jamil it would contain a ton of angst, with some ending fluff in an attempt to heal the wounds. Or maybe more angst to squeeze lemon juice in said wounds.

Vice dorm leaders with a caring fem!s/o who does not care for herself

Trey knows the feeling of burnout at the expense of others. He doesn’t tend to put the needs of others before his own, but he is used to leaving them for later if the situation calls for it. As vice dorm leader, he always has a steady stream of stress flowing all around him. It’s one of the last things he would wish upon anyone.

His dorm always seems to have a new source of trouble. You always try and lessen his burden even when he tells you it isn’t necessary. It melts him on the inside!

He’s thoroughly heart-broken when he realizes you care for everyone but yourself. He knew you had a tendency to prioritize others, he just hadn’t thought it would be this severe.

In his free time, he’ll sit you down and have a long talk with you. He needs to know why exactly you feel the need to do this and what he can do to help. If you aren’t confident enough to tell him, he’ll respect your wishes.

If you thought he radiated parent aura before, he’ll radiate nearly twice as much now. He sends you text messages throughout the day to remind you of things! For example, “If Ace and Deuce get into trouble again, let them. Riddle can chew them out later”

He’ll gently pull you away from draining situations you put yourself in. If you so desire, you can return to them later. For now, how about you help him bake a bit? It’s a great way to relieve some stress!

Your thinking and way of being is almost the exact opposite of his. Why are you willing to give people everything and not take anything for yourself? Why do you push your own importance to the bottom of the list? That is, if it’s even there in the first place. You absolutely baffle him to no end.

Growing up in the slums taught him to put his needs first. He acts solely to benefit himself, or so he says. That mindset carried on into your relationship too. For the long run, you both will learn from each other. Ruggie will teach you that it’s okay to think about yourself. Everything you do will benefit someone important to him, you. You’ll teach him that not every act of kindness needs something in return. He won’t be indebted to anyone, especially not to you.

Every time you offer to help him with anything his heart explodes with happiness! It’s a strange feeling, but he loves it nonetheless!

He does get a little jealous when you help others. He knows it’s in your nature but he’s a little on the greedier side.

The moment Ruggie sees you biting off more than you can chew, he will sit you down and make you rest. You’ve done this countless times for him, it’s only fair if he does it for you too.

He’ll help you with absolutely everything you ask! Your happiness is something that makes him happy too. It’s well worth the investment!

He’s guilty of exploiting you. Long before your relationship blossomed into what it is today, he would ruthlessly watch you diligently completing tasks for others. Even he would give you things to do! You were always willing to help after all. It didn’t matter if he threw a tsunami of different chores at you, you’d always do your best to complete them. It amused him greatly. A caring hard-worker with no strings attached? How excellent.

That way of thinking changes a bit when he starts to develop feelings for you. It changes even more when you two start dating.

Loves that you support his club activities! He likes inviting you to help him too. The Mountain Appreciation Club now has two members!

If he sees people dump their problems on you, he’ll send his dear brother after them. While Floyd has fun squeezing them, Jade will invite you to take a nice long break with him instead.

He knows that talking sometimes isn’t the best way to get things to happen. He’s aware that changing the way someone thinks is also something that will take time.

If you refuse to put your needs first, he’ll request things from you whilst simultaneously canceling all other plans. Those requests will simply include things he knows you enjoy doing and things he knows you need to attend to. You’ll do it for him no doubt, correct?

You managed to worm your way into a cold eel’s heart, you now must deal with the “selfish” love he gives. Though that love doesn’t seem all that selfish.

At first he was very hesitant to let you into his life, much his less heart. People who were “kind” to him always hide their true intentions until the last moment. Usually, they would only be kind to him to get to Kalim, something Jamil always had to be wary of.

He’s used to people asking him for his services, not someone asking to help him with them. Although Kalim is always willing to help him, Jamil can never accept, not that he wants to in the first place. It’s a different case with you.

Mainly, he’ll give you tasks the two of you can do together. It’s a way to squeeze in more time with you! Apart from that, he prefers to do his work by himself. He doesn’t want to rope you into his life as a servant.

Jamil isn’t the best at speaking about emotions and such. When he realizes just how little you take for yourself, he feels pained but he won’t say anything about it. Instead, he takes it upon himself to help you just as you’ve helped him.

As hypocritical as he thinks it is, he wants you to take care of your own needs and desires too. Ever since Kalim granted him more freedom, he’s been trying to do the same. Although you two are different cases, it’s a lesson both of you can learn together.

The moment you become his girlfriend, he technically starts to stalk you. He used to do so before the relationship started as, but whether you knew that or not is a subject for another day.

After watching you for a while, he starts to notice a pattern. Not one he likes either.

Rook sees the beauty in everything and everyone. He has a way of convincing people to see that beauty too. He’ll slowly make sure you extend that kindness you give to others to yourself. As eccentric as he is, he’s also a very patient man.

He’ll verbally remind you and ask what you really want to do. This includes the topic of his requests too. If he ever asks for something that you really don’t want to do, he’ll drop it. He tells you it’s your right to put your needs first.

“Mon amour, all people in the world are important and worth loving. That includes yourself. If you ever find yourself forgetting this, I will be here to remind you every day!”

He’s a very giving lover himself! He goes out of his way to do many things for you! 

He doesn’t want you to change who you are, he just wants you to be kinder to yourself!

More likely than not, you’re some sort of friend to Idia. You probably met him through Ortho!

He’s very grateful to you, you’re one of the first real-life people who has tried to befriend Idia. You’ve probably tried to get Idia to practice some more healthy eating habits and the like too. Apart from that, you also try to understand both of them.

Ortho sees you as a best friend, maybe even an older sister! He doesn’t like to see such negative thoughts concerning your well-being.

Just like he does for his older brother, he tries to get you to practice some healthier habits. More specifically, he makes you promise to help yourself! It’s his way of showing that he cares for you greatly.

Be wary, he pops up randomly during the day to remind you to take care of yourself! If he sees you helping a friend, he will help you himself. Afterwards, he’ll drag you to rest! You spend lots of energy both physically and mentally, you need to recharge! Not even Ortho can run for forever without recharging his battery!

Lean on him! He’s very reliable, his brother has given him many different features!

He’s met people such as yourself before. Right off the bat he knew how you handled yourself.

As much as he appreciates the amount of effort you put into helping him, he most likely will shoot you down from trying in the first place. He’s an old one, he can do such work easily you can rest assured!

He constantly tells you to enjoy your youth. Go on! Do crazy things! Be selfish! 

Lilia will be your personal cheerleader on your journey!

In all seriousness though, he’ll have a talk with you about this. Among other things, he’ll gently encourage you to push yourself forward. Though it will be a long process, stamping out the thoughts of needing to help others without helping yourself is the first step.

Nobody dares to ask too much of you. The vice leader of Diasomnia may look cute on the outside but he does have an intense aura surrounding him when he wants to.

He likes to rope you into spontaneous adventures in the great outdoors! It’s a perfect get-away from the stress at school. It also gives you some time to sort out your thoughts. 

Slowly but surely he’ll make you realize your worth is just as-if not even more-important as those around you.

#twsited wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #trey clover #trey clover x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #ortho shroud #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader

[babymetaldoll]

Birthday wishes (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Nope

Summary: Spencer overthinks Reader’s birthday present ‘cos he doesn't know if they are dating or not

Warnings: No… maybe a few sexual references but nothing too explicit. 

Category: Pure sweet, delicious fluff 

Word count: 3,2K

Part II

Masterlist

.

What makes a relationship official? Are you just "going out" o "just seeing each other" after five dates? Five incredible, unique, perfect dates? or do you have to ask: "Would you be my girlfriend?"

Spencer rolled in bed and kept asking himself questions he couldn't answer. Were he and (Y/N) a couple? So far, he hadn't asked, ‘cos he was scared, which made no sense, ‘cos he had already asked her out and they had already kissed. Besides, they had already met for five years, which meant, well, it felt like they were already a little ahead on the "getting to know each other" part.

So, after five dates, were they already dating? Were they exclusive? Could he tell her he loved her? No, probably no. Who could he ask about it? No one in the team knew what was going on between them. They didn't want to tell them. It was too soon. Besides, Spencer didn't even know if they were an actual couple.

Reid kept rolling in bed. It was already three in the morning. He was overthinking everything, and he knew it. But it was (Y/N)'s birthday, and the present he had for her was hunting him. He couldn't shake the thought he had gone a little too far with it. He wanted to give her that present ever since he saw it, months ago. He bought it and kept it hidden in his closet. He had no idea why he was hiding it if no one was ever in his house. No one but (Y/N), but she never went through his things. If so, she would have found the picture of her he also had hidden in his drawer.

It was a picture of the two of them sitting together at the round table in the BAU conference room. They were eating a cupcake, and their lips were covered in frosting. They were laughing. They were happy. It was Penelope's birthday, and they had thrown her a surprise breakfast celebration. JJ had taken that picture, and secretly, Spencer asked her for a copy.

When they were just friends, he didn't overthink that present, he just got it for her. But now everything was different. And he was scared of every movement he did around her, terrified he could frighten her away.

- "Stop!"- he commanded himself and closed his eyes. He had to sleep at least an hour, or the rings under his eyes were going to scare (Y/N) away. Not like she hadn't seen him looking like he hadn't slept before.

.

Penelope had baked a gigantic Halloween themed birthday cake, ‘cos he knew (Y/N) was a sucker for horror movies. It had pumpkins, a Jason mask, and a knife stabbing the cake. It was perfect. JJ and Emily brought presents and more food. Everyone had helped to make sure her day was special. Derek decorated her desk with balloons and confetti, got her a funny birthday paper crown, and wrote "pretty girl" with his terrible handwriting. It was adorable. She was like a little sister to him, and he just wanted to make her smile.

And Reid, well, he… he was all over the place. Hanging more balloons all over the bullpen and making sure all the food was ready. He actually got there an hour and a half earlier than everybody, just to make sure everything was set.

No one got how he could think he was fooling them about his feelings for (Y/N). To be fair, he wasn't trying at this point. He was now too concerned not to scare her away by accidentally saying "I love you" or saying they were in a relationship, ‘cos he didn't know if they were. All those things Spencer could quickly fix asking, but he was too scared to ask.

.

- "Happy birthday!!!"- Penelope yelled as soon as (Y/N) set foot outside the elevator. She was greeted by her friend's tight hug, and along came the rest of the team.

- "Thank you so much!! Thank you!"- she was moved by all the love they gave her, they were her family far from home, and they meant the world to her.

- "Hey! happy birthday"- Spencer was the last one to hug her; he waited until everybody had walked back to the conference room. She smiled and bit her lips as he moved a step closer and wrapped his arms around her.

Those arms made her feel safe and loved, and it was an addictive sensation; she didn't want to quit. She was a self-declared addict to Spencer Reid, and the latest weeks had been the best of her life. But she still felt she was walking on eggshells around Reid. She loved him so much, and she was scared, 'cos she thought she might say it too soon. Was it too soon considering they had known each other for the last five years? she had been in love with him for the last four and a half years. But yes, it was too soon.

They hadn't even had sex yet.

Sex with Reid. That was a thought that had kept her awake many nights. It kept coming to her mind, especially when he held her the way he was doing now. She could feel herself melting to his touch, and the idea of feeling his skin against hers, the idea of being naked with him. The thought of having him inside of her was too much to process. If kissing him was breathtaking, having sex with him had to be heaven.

- "So, happy birthday"- he repeated and smiled at her, still holding her tight but now staring at her blushed cheeks.

- "Thank you"- she giggled nervously and looked down

- "I hope you are hungry, ‘cos we've got a whole breakfast party ready for you"- she nodded, but neither of them moved- "Garcia really went overboard with everything she brought…"

Why would Reid hide the fact he had gotten half the things on that table? Something inside him kept forcing him to hide his true feelings for (Y/N) 'cos he was still sure she would reject him. Again, they had been into five dates, held hands, kissed, looked at each other with puppy eyes for hours over dinner. Why did he feel he needed to hide his feelings?

- "And maybe we could go out tonight…"- he whispered as they walked to the conference room- "I would love to take you out for dinner on your birthday"- (Y/N) turned to him with the brightest smile and nodded.

- “Sounds like an excellent plan”

.

- "And where's your present, pretty boy?"- Derek asked Reid frowning after (Y/N) finished opening all the presents the team had gotten her.

- "I…"- he had an awful excuse- "I left it at home, I'm sorry."

No one was ever going to believe that. He knew it

- "I was…. well, I had a lot of things to bring, and I left it on my table, but I'll bring it over later, ok?"- (Y/N) just nodded and smiled, thinking they had a date later. But the rest of the team was confused. Reid would never forget something. Never, eidetic memory, he was doomed.

- "Are you ok?"- JJ walked to him as they cleaned the table after breakfast and looked at him, worried.

- "Yeah, why?"

- "You look nervous"- Spencer even stuttered to answer

- "I, I, I'm not nervous, JJ, I don't know what you are talking about"

- "Spence, come on… tell me, what is it? What happened with (Y/N)? why didn't you bring the present you had for her?"

Reid sighed. He knew he could trust JJ. He was just… ashamed of sharing his feelings with someone.

- "I didn't forget it"- he whispered- "I want to give it to her later."

- "Later? when?"- he stayed quiet for a few seconds and then took a deep breath

- "Wehaveadatetonight"- Spencer slurred and closed his eyes, ‘cos he didn't want to look at JJ's face

- "What? Sorry, I couldn't understand that"- he sighed, frustrated

- "I said, we are goingoutonadatetonight"- it took her a second to understand it, but when she did, JJ wide opened her eyes and looked at her friend in shock- "Don't say a word"

- "But oh my god!! Spencer!"

- "Shh!! please don't say a word!"

- "Spence! It's huge! It's your first date!! When did it happen? when did you finally ask her?"

… And Spencer actually thought no one knew about his feelings.

- "It's not… our first date"- he whispered and looked at his shoes. JJ stood next to him in shock and hit his arm as her mouth fell open.

- "JJ, please, I'm just telling you ‘cos I trust you I don't want anyone else to know?"- he begged

- "How many dates so far?"

- "Six, including tonight."

- "Oh my god! are you two together??"- JJ was making her best not to yell, but she was in shock. However, she realized it was a sensitive subject for Spencer. She wanted to make her best not to make him feel uncomfortable.

- "We've been going out for a few weeks now, but…"- Spencer made a pause and sighed- "How do you know when you are in a relationship with someone?"

- "Usually, you talk about it… you haven't?"- his silence was too long, enough sign for JJ to get he hadn't had that conversation.

- "Ok, you should ask her, Spence. If you've been out on several dates already, it means she likes you the same way you like her."

- "But I love her…"- Reid looked at her friend with puppy eyes. He was honestly anxious about the whole situation and couldn't say another word.

- "She is crazy for you; you have to believe me"

- "I know she likes me, but it's nerve-wracking to feel you love someone who just likes you"

- "Believe me, Spence, she doesn't just like you"- he just sighed and nodded, not because he believed her, but because he didn't want to persuade that conversation. However, JJ wasn't going to let it go so quickly.

- "So… what did you get her?"

- "It's nothing, just something I thought she might like"- he tried to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal.... like he wasn't freaking out. But he was dying inside.

- "What is it?"

- "A necklace…"- JJ nodded, surprised- "And a ring"- surprise was not enough to describe her face. Shock might have been closer. Yes, JJ was in shock.

- "Are you going to…"

- "No! no, no, I'm not, I mean, it's too soon to…. I just don't want her to feel pushed, I bought her the present months ago, and I never thought we were going to be … well, whatever it is that we are now… that's why I need to know where we are now… I don't want to blow it."

Spencer bit his inner lip and pouted. He was upset, he was having a hard time explaining his feelings and his mind, and most of all, a hard time sharing what he was feeling. JJ smiled at him and simply shook her head, with an honest, proud look in her eyes.

- "I know it sounds scary, but the only way to know is asking her"- he just nodded and let out a deep breath. That wasn't the answer he was waiting for.

.

(Y/N) looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She was glad no psycho killer had decided to start attacking innocent that night, ‘cos it meant she could actually go out on a date with Reid. Their sixth date. Usually, the sixth date meant sex for her. But she had no idea what it meant for Spencer, and she wasn't going to push him. She just couldn't shake the thought off her mind, but she had to. Thinking about sex with Reid was too much.

- "Wow"- that was all Spencer managed to say as soon as (Y/N) opened the door for him. He looked at her up and down. His eyes couldn't stop running through every inch of her skin. It was like the dress was hugging her body, wrapping her and following every curve of it. He couldn't believe someone so beautiful wanted to go out with him.

- "You look very handsome"- (Y/N) smiled and chuckled. Reid just shook his head and stared.

- "Come in, just let me get my purse and put on some shoes, and I'll be ready to go."

Spencer couldn't speak. He just nodded and watched her walking to her room. He couldn't even be subtle at that point. He couldn't and wouldn't stop staring. Not if she was going to look so hot.

The thought of having sex with his best friend was hunting his mind since they were on their third date. That was the very first time they made out on her couch. They hadn't even passed second base, but for Spencer, that had been enough to start fantasizing about how it would be, how it would felt, and… when it would be.

- "Buttercup?"- he asked and couldn't see (Y/N)'s wide smile as soon as she heard that word. She loved it when he called her cute names. It made her feel special and closer. She had always called him "honey" even before they started going out. After their second date, Spencer had finally seemed comfortable calling her that.

- "What is it, honey?"- she asked, walking out of her room, wearing her favorite shoes and carrying a tiny purse.

- "I just wanted to… give you your birthday present before we leave"- Spencer smiled at her, and she could tell he was nervous.

- "Sure… thank you, by the way."

- "I still haven't given you the present. Why are you thanking me for?"

- "‘Cos you organized the best breakfast celebration the BAU had ever seen"- she simply answered, and her smile stopped his heart for a second.

- "You deserve it"- he simply replied, standing right in front of her. He could only think about leaning in and kissing her, but he was so nervous, he just stared at her, feeling his hands sweating.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah, it's just that… sorry, you look stunning, and I can't stop looking at you"- (Y/N) felt her cheeks burning red in a second. Spencer Reid had just told her she was beautiful. That wasn't something she was used to, but she would gladly live the rest of her days hearing him saying it.

Slowly, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Spencer's neck and moved closer, not taking her eyes from his.

- "Can I ask for a birthday kiss?"- the way she whispered those words did things to Reid. Things he didn't know how to handle just yet. All he managed to do was to smile and reach her lips. It started like a sweet, loving kiss, but soon it changed. It was getting harder and harder for the two of them to hide their true feelings.

That kiss was screaming: "I love you." It was hungry and also filled with the deepest desire. It wasn't plain lust. It was the eagerness to feel the one you love as close as possible, for as long as possible.

- "Are these "birthday kisses" a limited edition, or can I keep asking for them for as long as I want?"- she murmured, rubbing her lips against his.

- "All the kisses you want, as long as you want them"- Spencer whispered and deepened the kiss as a soft moan left (Y/N)'s lips. That was music for him, the music he wanted to listen to all day long, if possible.

They had saved way too many kisses during those years. They could kiss forever, just to catch up. But there were dinner reservations and a present in between. So the kisses had to wait a little bit.

- "I got you this"- Spencer whispered and moved his lips from hers, smiling at the soft whine that came from her as soon as he did.

- "I thought about you when I saw them a few months ago ‘cos I knew you would love them, and I've been saving them for today"- he opened his satchel and handed her a small box.

- "Thank you, honey"- (Y/N) was blushing, trying not to show she was so nervous. It wasn't just because of all the kisses. It was because now she knew he had thought about her months ago, and got her a present. That was melting her.

(Y/N) was speechless when she opened the box. She looked at him. He was blushed and excited at the same time.

- "Spencer… you shouldn't have"

- "You deserve to have these; do you like them?"

- "Of course I do, you were right, I love them… would you?"- (Y/N) handed Spencer the necklace, and he clasped it around her neck. She looked at the ring and smiled, sliding it in her finger.

- "I didn't want you to feel I'm pushing you to…"

- "No, honey, it's ok. I know you didn't mean anything like that"- she was blushing as well, but loving the gesture- "It's beautiful, Spencer."

- "No, you are beautiful"- (Y/N) giggled at his words and sighed

- "No, you are beautiful"- she repeated and hugged him again.

Spencer looked at her in adoration and ran his fingers sweet and carefully down her rosy cheeks. 

- "I... wanted to ask you something"

- "What is it?"- that was it. It was now or never for Spencer.

- "Do you… want… do you want to be…"- Spencer was trying to say it without stuttering- "Would you be my girlfriend?"- her smile made him sigh relieved, as she leaned in and kissed him softly.

- "Of course I would…"- he held her closer and pecked her lips once, twice, three, four times, before cupping her face with both hands, deepening the kiss.

- "Do you want to know something funny?"- she whispered when Spencer rested his forehead on hers and looked at her in adoration

- "What?"

- "That was my birthday wish."

- "What?"

- "I wished you'd ask me to be your girlfriend."

Reid smiled and sighed. He held her hand and kissed it, speechless, thinking he had been a fool for holding that question for so long.

- "Do you want to know what I wish for right now?"- she whispered and smiled- "I'm wishing we were having dinner 'cos I'm starving."

Spencer chuckled and shook his head.

- "Come on, Buttercup, let's get you the best birthday dinner"- he walked with her to the door but stopped when he felt her pulling his arm. 

- "And do you think we could come back here after dinner?"

- "Sure, what do you have in mind? Wanna watch a movie?"- but she shook her head.

- "I wanna kiss you until I can't move my lips anymore"- she confessed- "Now that you are my boyfriend, I think I can say those kinds of things, right?

Reid was in shock, his mouth hanging open, his red cheeks burning. And his girlfriend - he loved the idea of calling her that - smiling in front of him.

- "Would you like to do that, doctor?"

 - "What if we ask for take-outs and stay on that couch all night long?"- he simply answered, finally not overthinking every word.

- "I thought you would never ask."

#Spencer Reid #Matthew Gray Gubler #Criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler fanfic #mgg #doctor spencer reid #i can't stop being this fluffy #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer Reid fanfic #babymetaldoll writes

[djarinsbeskar]

PREQUEL ARC: PART 2 - THE HOUK

A/N: Part 2 is here! First and foremost, can I just say thank you so much for the reception Part 1 received and to those who (gasps!) actually want me to tag them for updates??? I don’t know how to react??? I’m so touched??????? It’s so motivating and has reminded me why I love sharing my scribbles!

There’s a greater focus on world/character building in this chapter so if it feels a bit rambling or description heavy, I do apologise! Like I said, I’m trying to build some context to the reader-insert before we get to the smut, and I hope that I’ve kept her general enough that she doesn’t cross the line too much into OC territory and becomes unrelatable. As always, constructive criticism is welcome! My style of writing leaves much to be desired so I would love to know if something doesn’t make sense so I can improve and fix it. But enough of that, on with the show!

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: Language and slight injury detail.

Plot: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

8 ABY, Mynock, Dandoran.

The second time you met him, he had dislocated his shoulder after a nasty clash with a Houk.

Your dealing with the Mandalorian on Klatooine had moved to the back of your mind and you rarely, if ever, thought about it. It was merely another encounter with a rough character that needed some medical attention. You wouldn’t have been able to hazard a guess at how many similar characters you saw in a week while you worked at the clinic. Even more so when you’d left Klatooine after becoming disillusioned that the New Republic were actually trying to make a difference.

You had heard stories from the Core and Mid Rim planets. Stories of the investment and progress being made to rebuild after the tyranny of the Empire, of the billions of credits being poured into the development of new ship building centers on Corellia and large, extravagant residencies for government members on Coruscant. Things, you were sure, that were not actually urgent necessities as they were desires. Especially given that the funds you received from that same government to sustain the clinic thinned before drying up completely a few months after your encounter with the Mandalorian.

…Hemorrhaging more credits than is justified for the benefits we’re seeing in return.

The busybody politician with a colorful title and even more colorful robes waxed poetically, hiding the sentiment of disinterest in ways only a politician could. Half-heartedly trying to distract you by his explanations with empty praise and gratitude for your service during the Rebellion and your humanitarian work now, a true embodiment of what the New Republic stands for. He crowed like the colorful bird he looked like, dressed as he was with fine feathers lining the lapels of his robes.

You bristle at the memory of the hologram’s eyes flickering to look at anything besides you, running down the time you had spent weeks trying to get.

That was when the memory of the Mandalorian surfaced, surprisingly. How the day after you treated him you arrived at the medical center and saw  a familiar pouch of credits sitting innocently behind the check-in desk. When you enquired with the receptionist, she told you it was sitting there once she opened up earlier that morning. The only note left being on one of the datapads behind the desk, the scrawling font reading; to help with your work. You had let out a chuckle to yourself as you checked your schedule, wondering if the brutish male you had treated last night really was as cold as he portrayed himself to be.

The memory had incited a righteous anger that a bounty hunter was more willing to support a voluntary clinic than the government that set it up in the first place was.

I thought the Empire were the ones who put a credit limit on what a life is worth. You had hissed in return, interrupting what you were sure was a well-rehearsed and well used speech, before hanging up. You pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes, taking a shuddering breath as you tried not to be nihilistic in thinking that you had spent nearly half your life thinking you could make a difference, when, you were just serving the Empire in different clothing.

It wasn’t a fair comparison; you knew the New Republic was neither as cruel nor as tyrannical and oppressive as it’s predecessor, but you had been made so dreadfully aware that in places like the Outer Rim, people would always be overlooked by those in power because they simply didn’t offer enough to be worth looking at.

The realization was a raw wound to your soul. You had lost brothers and friends to the fight for liberation, but it didn’t seem as though the grass was much greener on the other side. Maybe elsewhere in the galaxy it was, but where you were needed most, the grass was dehydrated and dying under the relentless sun.

With the clinic penniless, your meagre pension from the Rebellion was not nearly enough to keep it functioning. Add to that the reluctance of the other medics to run the clinic alongside you out of their own pocket and the intergalactic beacon for medical aid that alerted anyone in the parsec of where to go being disengaged, traffic stopped. The native Klatooinians preferred their own healers and very rarely, if ever, sought out medics from the New Republic.

For the first time in your life, your path wasn’t clear. If you even had a path anymore.

That was how you found yourself on Dandoran, flying off a week after the last of the medics left Derelkann to the first planet that was habitable to humans. But by the Maker, it was even rougher than Klatooine. The temperate climate and lush greenery were more comfortable for you, but the city you found yourself in, Mynock, was to say the least, undesirable. Having once been Hutt Space, there were still several illegal operations active that kept the city going and you learned early on what areas to avoid and to always carry a blaster with you. But at least where there was activity, there was work for you.

***

You met Biran Sonter the very day you arrived, asking directions to the nearest medical facility, hoping they could use another medic. He was an elderly Mirialan male with a wealth of history behind him, his facial tattoos creased with deep wrinkles and a kindly smile that reminded you of your grandfather.

You were flabbergasted to learn that during the time of the Galactic Republic, he acted as the royal physician to the palace on Naboo.

As you choked on the tea he had kindly made for you at that revelation, you couldn’t ask him quickly enough how he ended up here? On an Outer Rim backwater skughole of a planet and his tale had been sobering. When the Republic first fell, anyone who did not immediately surrender to the rising Empire was terminated. Biran had, at the time, only heard word of the death of the beloved former Queen Amidala and blamed the Empire vehemently. Escaping on one of the last shuttles from the Mid Rim planet before legions of clones descended, he arrived on Dandoran where no one, not even the Hutts cared enough to notice him. All they knew, was that he was an excellent doctor who charged little for his services and kept to himself. That was good enough for them. While he treated a vast number of criminals ranging from thieves to bounty hunters, he was not wholly merciful. He somehow managed to avoid or talk his way out of treating anyone in the organized crime syndicates or known traffickers and killers. It may have gone against a physician’s code to do ones best to save every life, but he like many, made their own code in the Outer Rim.

You fell into a fast and easy friendship with the Mirialan after that, your similar histories of working in the medical field despite being decades apart giving you plenty to talk about. The practice Biran ran in Mynock was always busy and he was only too grateful when you offered to take the weight off his old shoulders and gradually, his clients began to expect to see you most of the day and Biran for a few hours in the early morning. You were never short on work between cantina brawls, accidents and the downright attacks that took place in Mynock and the next eighteen standard months seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, Klatooine a distant memory, as was the Mandalorian you met there.

The night you saw him again, was no different to any other you spent enjoying a quiet drink before heading back to turn in for the night.

You had been in the process of leaving the cantina, recognizing that the later it grew, the rowdier and aggressive the clientele became. You could handle yourself as well as anyone who made their home in Hutt Space, but you knew better than to be blatantly reckless when you were on your own. It wasn’t like you had the squadron you stayed with throughout the Rebellion for backup as you once did, and your closest ally would probably break in half if you pushed him too hard. So no, you were not staying late with Mynocks newest resident of a Houk warlord and the company he seemed to attract.

The Houk in question was a cruel and belligerent brute, a former local warlord by the name of Gappo Teff. His reputation for inflicting punishment disproportionate to any slight committed against him or the Empire was one of the many echoes of the former imperial rule that was still being felt in the galaxy nearly three years after its collapse.

The stories of the chokehold he held over Sullust would make even a hardened soldier’s stomach churn. How he managed to escape the liberation of the planet without being dragged to the noxious surface of Sullust to suffer for the pain he had caused so many, was a mystery. But there he was, sitting like a king in the cantina you found yourself in, bellowing laughter ricocheting obnoxiously throughout the space, not a care in the world that he was a wanted felon.  

It might have been to do with the fact that he was at least seven and a half foot tall, with a mass that could easily fit three of you side by side across him and still not be seen. It might have been to do with the cold, milky blue of his small eyes, sunk into a skull so large it could probably shatter ribs and rupture organs if one were to be headbutted with it. The last thing anyone wanted was those eyes focusing on them. It could have been the heavy artillery modified blaster he kept laying on his lap; the weapon more of a cannon for those of a more regular stature. Whatever the reason, very few bounty hunters and even fewer New Republic guards came to collect him. He was probably one of the most easily found quarries on all Guild registers and New Republic wanted lists and yet, he languished in Mynock as if the Empire had never fallen and his reign was still assured.

Making your way to the entrance, you came up short as someone walked in, your nose coming abruptly close to a reddish-brown durasteel chest-plate. Taking a step back, your eyes did a double take at the familiar unpainted beskar helmet. Subconsciously, you had stepped to the side, the Mandalorian continuing to walk without a word as if you hadn’t nearly walked into him. Mandalorians were a rare sight these days, so you could be forgiven for staring. Though, you were most likely staring for entirely different reasons compared to everyone else in the cantina.

The armor was the same, if not a bit more worn, as was the dark boiled woolen cape and pulse rifle strapped to his back. But it was the gait; how could someone walk both gracefully and arrogantly, almost cocky in his self-assurance that he was in control wherever he went. It explained why he was so determined not to let his injury be known by his walk the last time you saw him. Because you had seen him before, there was no doubt in your mind that this was the same irritable reek of a Mandalorian you met in Derelkann years ago.

He stood in the middle of the cantina, assessing the place as his helmet scanned the area. If you didn’t know any better, you say he was…

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” You muttered to yourself when the helmet stopped on Teff. When you said bounty hunters didn’t bother to come after him, you should have been more specific. Smart bounty hunters didn’t bother hunting Gappo Teff, which explained why the one you knew of was right there looking for him.

A choice lay before you. Leave now and lock your doors until morning… or wait. For what, you couldn’t be sure. But if the Mandalorian wasn’t killed tonight by Teff, he was going to wish he was with the injuries he would probably sustain.

You let your head fall back on your shoulders as you exhaled. Why were you so soft for lost causes and wayward souls?

The Houks bodyguards left much to be desired, crumbling to the ground before they had even drawn their blasters, smoke rising from the blaster wounds inflicted effortlessly by Din.

The bodyguards weren’t what worried Din. Their boss hardly needed protecting, and he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

The groan and screech of the metal table being shoved away by Teff as he stood to his full height made Din grit his teeth, arms open as he boomed, “Ah Mando, I was wondering when you’d try your luck at me. Your reputation is becoming rather infamous throughout the parsec.”

A guttural, wet laugh left the purple skinned quarry as Din remained silent and kept his blaster aimed. Damn, but the piece of bantha crap was big. He quickly scanned his peripheral, but it seemed the residents of Mynock had more self-interest than to trade blaster fire over one warlord, the barkeep casually making his was into the backroom of the bar to keep out of harms way.

“Why don’t you hang up that Guild work and let me make you a better offer.” Teff boomed, taking a swing of his drink, streams of the yellow fluid running down the sides of him mouth as those frosty eyes stayed trained on the bounty hunter.

Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet; negotiations by the quarry were his least favorite reaction to being caught but he knew better than to think he had captured the colossal male yet. Until Teff was either dead or frozen in carbonite, he was a danger. Luckily, the orders were to bring him in dead or alive. Seems the New Republic were fed up with him still breathing. He couldn’t say he blamed them.

“No?” the Houk pushed when Din didn’t respond, “Too bad, you’d have made an excellent addition to my collection.” And with more speed than Din had anticipated from the large male, he charged.

You had the good sense to leave the cantina as soon as the first blaster shot was fired, pulling the hood of your dusty grey jacket over your head while you made your way back to the practice to gather a few things. Things that would be completely obsolete if he died but you wouldn’t think that far. You were a realist, not a pessimist. The Houk might have had the advantage of height and sheer strength, but the Mandalorian was quicker, possibly smarter, and decked with enough firepower to make a starfighter pilot drool.

So, you put the odds about sixty forty in favor of the Mandalorian. Not that you would ever tell him that.

Teff roared in anger as Din rolled out of the way again, shooting his grappling hook to latch onto the Houks shoulder and yanked hard enough to throw the male off balance. Despite his large size however, Teff was able to slide his foot back to catch himself, putting him in direct line with Din.

He was on his feet in no time as the Houk charged at him, lowering his head so that on contact, Din’s left shoulder was thrown back into the wall of the cantina. His breath left him as the impact winded him, a dull but growing pain throbbing from his shoulder before Teff’s vile breath permeated even his helmet and a large hand wrapped around Din’s throat. He could feel his feet leave the floor and the weight of his body pulling downward made the pressure on his windpipe all the heavier.

“Oh well, at least you tried.” Teff gloated, his head leaning closer as if to peer into the visor and that distraction was all Din needed to lift his hand and engage his flamethrower, engulfing the Houk in flames. Din gasped in a breath when he was dropped, the squeals of pain coming from Teff disconcerting as he staggered around the cantina, desperately looking for something to extinguish the inferno his clothing and more vulnerable tissue had become.

Din waited a few more measured breaths before lifting the blaster and shooting the quarry in the vulnerable side of the neck, satisfied with the resounding bang the body made as it fell to the ground, flames still burning bright until he picked up the half-drunk tankard on Teffs table to douse the fire lest he be completely unrecognizable upon delivery.

Din looked around, the cantina was empty; the silence suddenly deafening as he looked back down at the body.

Now, how to get him back to the Razor Crest.

Din sighed.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

You held up your hands unsurprised when the Mandalorian spun on the ramp of his ship, blaster raised and aimed right at you. He tilted his head slightly, taking you in and you tried not to fidget under the gaze you could feel raking over you despite not being able to see his eyes. What you could see though, was how limp his left arm was hanging to his side.

“The demon medic from Klatooine.” He muttered, finally placing your face and lowering his blaster slowly while you lowered your arms.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You snorted before nodding to his arm, “And you’ll probably be calling me a lot worse when I tell you that that arm needs tending to.”

He shifted slightly, turning his body so you wouldn’t be able to see. You just crossed your arms across your chest and stared at him pointedly. He held your gaze and was still as a statue. You could play the silence game too if that was how he wanted to do this. It was only a matter of time before one of you broke and you weren’t the one with a dislocated shoulder, so you’d say that the odds were in your favor.

It seemed like time dragged on before, without saying anything, the Mandalorian sighed and turned towards the ship.

You bit down on a smile, but you could still feel it creeping upon your lips as you congratulated yourself on winning. Two nil, you tallied in your head, not bad girl.

The ship… well the ship was a fossil and that was being generous. But it was clean and obviously well taken of, if the tidy hull was anything to go by.

Apart from the charred corpse lying in the middle of course, but those were just details. Easily overlooked. The smell however… that was a different story, but you held back any comments. You still couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to drag a fully grown Houk through the town one-handed, but then you knew that the strength and discipline of the Mandalorians was unrivalled. He could have done it through sheer determination and honestly, you were lucky to have found him at all. But people in Mynock liked to talk, so following the rumors' had let you there relatively easy.

A sigh broke your train of thought, “Let’s get this over with.”

The warrior seemed resigned to his fate as he stepped over the corpse and you followed suit, mind instantly running through the correct procedure and treatment.

“We have to get the bone in the upper arm into the correct position before it slips back into joint, otherwise the force will just break your arm.” You explained as you moved to stand in front of the large warrior when he sat back on one of the many crates pushed against the wall of the ship. You could barely hear the short exhales coming from the modulator and you could only guess that he was holding back speaking, whether in pain or frustration that you had strong-armed him into accepting treatment again.

“But hey, look on the bright side.”

His visor tilted slightly to look at you.

“No droids needed.” You shrugged a shoulder and sent him a grin when he said nothing. When he looked away, you focused your attention back on the problem shoulder; it wasn’t immediately clear that it had been dislocated, the pauldron he wore hiding the jutting ball of the joint that was no doubt pressed uncomfortably against his flesh. What you could see was that his left side was hanging just a bit lower than his right, and the inability to move the arm was a dead giveaway.

“Are you just going to stare at it or actually do what you said you would when you barged onto my ship?” The rasp was closer to you as he turned his head, the rumble of his voice decidedly deeper than you remembered last time. Or perhaps it always had been, and you just hadn’t been paying enough attention, more focused on the very real threat of having a dead body on your hands as the poison spread. You rolled your eyes; or it was all the short and biting commands he only seemed to know how to give as opposed to actually speaking that made you forget the voice. The man could be attractive, if he wasn’t so frustrating.

“I can’t see it properly.” You replied, agitated with him again. He got under your skin too easily, and ruined your cool demeanor.

“You dealt with the problem just fine before.” He snapped back, pain making him cranky.

“You didn’t have a bone out of place last time!” You stopped yourself, sucking in a breath before releasing it to prevent yourself from snapping again.

“At least,” you bartered, “let me remove the pauldron. I can feel around the duraweave to get an idea. I won’t see any more of you than I did last time.”

He didn’t say anything again for a time and honestly, he was the slowest person you’d ever met at receiving emergency medical care. Half the men you treated during the Rebellion would yell until you’d taken care of the worst of their injuries before they even considered if it was what they wanted or not.

“Fine.” Was all he responded, making no move to remove the offending piece so you took that as your cue to feel around the curved metal cautiously, feeling where it attached to his duraweave and releasing it into your hands before placing it down on a separate crate.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” A warning growl echoed in the hull, turning you back to your task with a hum.

It seemed the joint had popped forward, no doubt from caving in as Teff collided with Mando’s shoulder. You leaned forward, your fingers feeling around the area as gently as you could while his breathing came out a little shorter. You sent him an apologetic smile.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stay still, okay? Usually I’d have someone to hold—”

“I can keep myself still, just do it.” He snapped finally, turning to look at you before he looked away again. You said nothing more as you took his gloved hand in yours, turning the forearm over and feeling the hand clench in yours when he hissed.

“Shh, nearly there.” You soothed, moving your hand under his elbow to lift it so it was aligned with Mando’s shoulder. You stood, keeping the arm in place and twisting yourself to stand facing his side.

You were definitely out to get him. There was no other explanation for why he only seemed to be seriously injured in your presence. Din tried to tell himself he was being over-dramatic and irrational, that you hadn’t even been on the same planet when he was injured the first time, but then you opened your mouth and he felt justified in his petulant thoughts.

“On three.” He heard you warn and all he could offer was a single nod; the sooner he got this over with the better.

“One…” You jerked the arm forward and slipped the joint back into place quickly with a sickening crack and searing pain took his breath away before it began to ebb immediately.

“DANK…. FERRICK!” Din yelled as his good arm reached across to grip his left, bending forward as he breathed through the flash of pain. You moved out of his way, waiting for him to look back up at you through the helmet, deep pants making his chest heave. You cocked your head to the side when his eyes found yours, a clear question there.

He groaned as he sat back, leaning his head against the hull, “It… doesn’t hurt as much anymore.” He admitted, thinking that the smile you gave him was somewhat worth the knock to his ego at having to admit such a thing in the first place. And like last time, before he could even worry about the concerning direction that thought had led to, you were fluttering about opening crates and bins as if you owned the place.

“What the hell—” he made to stand indignantly.

“Do you have any spare cloth?” You interrupted, “Your arm needs to be bound for a few days. If you have bacta it might reduce the healing time a bit but honestly, I don’t think dislocations can be rushed despite recent studies. Rushing back to heavily lifting or activity for at least six weeks is a sure way to hurt yourself again.”

You were rambling now as you set a pile of disused yet clean cloth you found on your lap, sitting across from him as he just blinked at this enigma of a woman. Giving him orders in his own ship, were you daft?

Your eyes sharpened and shot to his and he was suddenly glad you couldn’t see behind his mask. His eyes had widened guiltily at the thought that you had read his mind.

“You will do what you’re told, understand Mando?” You warned as your fingers tied a loose sling from strips of cloth you’d pulled apart without even having to look at it, deft fingers looping the material and strengthening it with several more layers woven in for good measure.

“If you insist on getting injured so often, you live with the consequences. And the consequences are doing what you’re fucking told and being happy about it, got it? Sulk if you want, so long as you keep the arm bound and don’t take on any jobs for at least two months.”

He opened his mouth a few times at the audacity, did she have a death wish? He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him as if he were no more than a child and it made his blood boil. But just as quickly as the anger arose, it simmered as she muttered while watching her fingers tie off the sling,

“You don’t actually seem like a bad guy, and the galaxy can’t afford to lose anymore… not bad guys.” She seemed unsure of giving out even this level of praise but then again, she only had their first encounter to go by.

He grunted; not sure how to respond. And when Din was uncomfortable, he resorted to silence.

You got to your feet once the sling was suitably strong enough to support the weight of his arm without unravelling or breaking and you indicated to him, “May I?”

He jerked his head up in affirmation and you maneuvered the sling to sit correctly under his elbow and forearm, coaxing him to lift it slightly with a tap before you looped the tied end over his helmet, adjusting the length slightly to fit against him.

“You left Klatooine.” the statement rose from the warrior, his tone quieter than you’d heard him all day. Was he... trying to make conversation? Din told himself that it was merely out of curiosity from seeing you by chance on two totally different planets.

Blinking in surprise, you sat back on the crate in front of him, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back on one of your hands, “New Republic stopped funding the clinic and I realized that they’re all the same when it comes to the Outer Rim.”

He snorted in agreement, honestly, he wasn’t surprised to hear the New Republic had cut their losses on charity. It wasn’t in their nature to funnel money away from the Core planets.

“But it’s not all bad,” you continued, “I work with a doctor here. He’s old now so he should be enjoying his retirement. I’m kept busy and…”

He watched you while he waited for you to finish, surely there was more? But when you just shrugged and sent him a tight smile, he felt an uncomfortable niggle at the back of his neck, a familiarity that made him almost want to smile back even if you couldn’t see it. Almost. But not quite. He was unnerved at the… empathy he had for your situation. He too just… kept busy. It wasn’t towards any end beyond supporting the covert and the foundlings there. But for himself, he just kept working towards some translucent, non-existent goal, one job ended, and another began.

Something in your eyes told him you were doing the exact same thing. It unnerved him to think about.

“Echoy’la…” the word left him without knowing and you blinked,

“Hm?”

He shook his head and stood, grunting a bit at the ache in his shoulder when it jostled a bit, “Nothing. It seems I owe you my thanks again, demon medic.”

“I do have a name you know.” You snorted, letting the previous topic go as it seemed to just make him more awkward and grumpy than he already was. You packed away the medikit and replaced the unused cloth back where you found it.

“Somehow I don’t think it’ll be as fitting.”

“Whatever, sunshine.” You looked over your shoulder at him, the sling looking so out of place as he hooked a thumb in the utility belt he wore. It was amazing that he could still look as intimidating as he did. You gathered your things and started down the ramp leisurely. He followed you silently until he was standing at the entrance to the ship.

“Demon or not… thank you.” He called out as your feet hit the dusty ground of Mynock once again. You looked back over your shoulder and gave a single wave, calling something back to him that did make him smile behind his helmet this time.

As you disappeared into the streets of Mynock, he tested the name you had thrown back to him, rolling the syllables, and testing the vowels as he repeated it to himself.

Pity, he thought. He hated being wrong about anything, but somehow, your name was a much better fit than demon medic.

Not that he would ever admit that to you, of course.

Taglist:

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel​ @sarahjkl82-blog​

#the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #din djarin imagine #mando imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic

[robininthelabyrinth]

"The Untamed", but Jiggy has a white cat whom he tells everything.- May or may not be sentient or 'spiritual' like Fairy in the book. (From an idea I've thrown around with my friend @yraelviii)

ao3

He found the cat in Qinghe.

“What are you doing here?” Meng Yao said, crouching down to try to scoop out the little handful of white fluff underneath his cabinet only for it to bare its infantile fangs and him and hiss, moving its butt around as if it thought his fingers ought to be running in fear from its fearsome pounce. “How did you even get in here?”

The cat – a kitten, really, small and scrawny, dirty and covered in ashes as if it had just run out of a forge, but no less passionate for it – squirmed in his hand as he picked it up.

“Who owns you?” Meng Yao asked, and the cat hissed viciously as if to shout no one owns me!

Something about that echoed in Meng Yao’s heart – no one owns me, he thought – and so he fished up some extra meat from his plate, filled a small platter with water, and used the sleeve of an old outfit that needed to be taken to be laundered anyway to wipe the grey ash off of the cat’s white fur while it was distracted by sniffing suspiciously at the food and water that it ultimately declined to consume.

“Just this once,” he told it.

-

Doing good work will often only bring you more work, Meng Yao reflected, and so it was with the cat as much as with anything else. He still didn’t know how the cat managed to get into his rooms, and he sometimes dwelled on paranoid suspicions that there were hiding-holes in his chambers designed to allow others to spy on him, just as there had been in certain rooms in the brothel – though even at his worst moment of uncertainty and doubt he didn’t really think so. He knew that it wasn’t Nie Mingjue’s style even if Meng Yao had been someone important enough to care about, and anyway he didn’t question his own ability to discovery such a thing if it had really existed. He’d checked.

At any rate, however it kept getting into his rooms, the cat was now a regular presence there, lurking around.

It didn’t want to be petted and greeted all attempts to feed it with utter disdain, but despite its general standoffishness it seemed to like being in the same vicinity as Meng Yao, enjoying nothing more than to settle haughtily by the window in his room and watch over Meng Yao as if it thought he might get lost without its supervision.

Meng Yao thought it was probably someone’s pet gotten lost, or maybe even just a feral cat from outside (Qinghe had a fair number of them) that had figured out that it could access the good life by going inside, but it was very hard to sincerely worry over the ill-intentions of a cat, and he was already very busy.

If he didn’t need to care for it, then it wasn’t adding to his troubles. Let the cat sit where it liked!

Meng Yao had found that life in Qinghe was both different and similar to life in Yunping, the only life he had to compare it to, and it amused him to think of the great and righteous Nie sect as an overly large brothel, with the main difference being that they sold their strength where women sold their bodies. In both places there needed to be order, someone to sort things out and tell people where to put things and what to do; in both places Meng Yao, with his quick mind and excellent memory, his sense of understanding people and anticipating their needs, was utterly invaluable in arranging such things.

He had, admittedly, expected it to take a little more time to climb up to the top – the only person he couldn’t understand in this place was Nie Mingjue, who was far too easy to deceive and smiled at him like he really thought they were friends instead of just being master and servant, who appreciated his talents and told him so, who shrugged off his mistakes and had faith that he would do better, who ignored his status instead of lording it over him the way Meng Yao had expected him to. Even when he was angry, when he shouted and slammed his hands against things, Nie Mingjue never once mentioned Meng Yao’s background, and the only things he seemed to hold against him were his own mistakes.

Meng Yao still didn’t know why Nie Mingjue would act so rashly as to promote someone he had just met to a position as high as viceroy, much less actually trust him, but it didn’t really matter. However quixotic his method of reaching a place of power, he was here and his next task was to keep his place until he’d made a reputation for himself.

Part of that he did through his work, good critical work that people needed and which had always won him gratitude even if not respect, but the other part of it was in cultivation. That was the way in which the Nie sect was not like a brothel: you couldn’t just be clever, you couldn’t even just be beautiful - to be respected, you had to cultivate.

Not that wanting to cultivate was a problem for Meng Yao.

He’d always had a memory like a sponge and a body that obeyed his every wish, his childhood of mimicking the beautiful dances of his mother and her ‘sisters’ serving him well in transitioning to learning the sword even if he was years behind everyone else; his mother had bought a thousand fake cultivation manuals for him and he’d learned them all, each one of them more useless than the next, and now that he was here in the cultivation world at long last, he was finally, finally, finally able to cultivate for real.

Using Nie sect methods, of course, even if that wasn’t what he really wanted.  

He’d started as soon as he could when he arrived, endlessly grateful that the Nie sect provided training sabers without cost, and he’d snuck one away back to his room so that he could practice on his own time, knowing it would take a long time to form his golden core. He’d debated with himself for a long time as to whether or not it was worth it to invest in a real one – if the training sabers were free, then real proper Nie sabers were somehow three times as expensive as the swords you could buy in the marketplace, and you could only put in a deposit without any notion of when you’d actually get the saber, apparently subject to the contrary dispositions of the spiritual weaponsmiths that made them.

In the end he decided to go for it more or less on a whim, emptying out his hard-built savings to place the order, even though he knew he would one day need to discard whatever they made for him in favor of a sword.

The Jin sect would accept him one day. He would make them.

(If the Nie sect cultivation style was good for one thing, he thought as he went through endless drills of slashing and thrusting, it was that you could work out your anger while you were doing it. There was nothing quite like imagining the face of someone you hated and then bringing down the practice saber in a vicious slash, and oh, but Meng Yao hated so very many people.)

The cat liked watching him train most of all, although Meng Yao suspected it was because seeing him jump around panting was funnier than watching him sit at his desk and gracefully write out letters. It would occasionally start purring, a sound a little like a crackling fire, and eventually Meng Yao got into the habit of going to run his fingers through its fur as a reward for himself when he successfully completed a training sequence.

After a while, he started talking to it, too.

“That commander,” Meng Yao said as he brought the training saber down. His real saber was still on the order, probably stalled purposefully; the smith assigned the task was probably one of the people that thought they were too good to deal with him because of who his mother was, and it’d all been a waste of money in the end. Completely a waste, even if Nie Mingjue had smiled so happily at him when he’d heard about Meng Yao placing the order, his eyes warm and soft and how had that man survived so long in this wretched world of politics and pain, didn’t he know he would always be deceived and betrayed?

Why should he be the exception to the rule, when everyone else had to suffer?

Meng Yao threw away the unhelpful thoughts and thrust the saber forward, as if piercing his invisible opponent straight through the chest.

“That commander.” He minutely corrected his form and stabbed again, this time as if piercing through the belly: a gut wound, a slow and awful way to die. “He’ll regret what he said to me.”

The cat’s purring intensified.

Meng Yao briefly had the wild thought that it approved.

“I just –” Another thrust. “– need to figure out –” An overhead slash. “– how.”

-

Meng Yao ended up taking the cat with him when he left Qinghe.

It probably was someone’s pet and he was opening himself up to a charge of stealing, a charge he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against now that he no longer had Nie Mingjue’s protection –

(Nie Mingjue who had wept tears and blood at what Meng Yao had done, betrayed at last after having finally encountered a deception he could not swallow, who had banished him from the Unclean Realm even after everything Meng Yao had done for him – who had, despite it all, still hidden an entire bag of gold and Meng Yao’s favorite Qinghe snacks in Meng Yao’s things with a short note claiming that it was for unpaid wages. As if Meng Yao had ever let a single pay period go by without claiming exactly what he was due. As if Nie Mingjue still cared despite throwing him out, as if he worried about how Meng Yao might live, as if he hadn’t given up the privilege of caring about things like that – )

He didn’t really care.

He wanted the cat, so he took it. It was the least Qinghe could do for him.

The cat spent all its time in his new rooms in the hotels he stayed out as he traveled: in his bedroom and study, the little gardens that, when available, he liked to use to train in the mornings and evenings. It would even follow him when he took a bath (although that was with great reluctance on the part of the cat, and only if Meng Yao were taking an especially long time in the bath and the cat was worried he’d drowned, yowling angrily as if it could revive him through the power of its voice). If it had once belonged to someone else, it now belonged to Meng Yao, and Meng Yao didn’t give away anything that was his.

“I’ve made worse mistakes,” he said defiantly to the cat, which blinked at him from its side of the carriage he’d used some of the gold to rent. “It’s only that I don’t want to review them in order to think of which ones those might be.”

The cat got up, stretched its back, and walked over to butt its head against Meng Yao’s hand before turning and going back to its spot by the window.

Meng Yao wasn’t sure if that was a sign of agreement or if the cat just thought there was a treat in his hand. Not that the cat had ever accepted treats from his hand.

He still wasn’t sure what the cat ate, actually, but he was sure the cat would make its feelings known now that they weren’t somewhere with a dependable kitchen, though he supposed there was always the possibility that it would start picking up hunting.

“Wen Chao said that they’d aimed at the Cloud Recesses,” Meng Yao said, deciding not to dwell on the things of the past. There was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do about Nie Mingjue’s betrayed eyes or the snacks he hadn’t even known Nie Mingjue had known he’d liked, about the hand-me-down guans and trinkets that Nie Huaisang had insisted were part of his wardrobe when he’d helped him pack even though he knew Nie Huaisang still wore them sometimes, about the fact that he should have been ordered to take the Nie sect’s braids out of his hair when he passed by the gates for the final time since he didn’t deserve them anymore but the two disciples there had just nodded at him and let him pass without a word – nothing to do about the saber he’d ordered, still on the list to be made, and maybe if he made something of himself out in the world alone he would one day come back to claim it at last. “That’s where we’re going now. Lan Xichen might be in danger. I have to help him.”

The cat made a sound like it was considering hacking up a hairball.

“He was kind to me,” Meng Yao said, feeling defensive. “The only one who never judged me –”

Since he’d decided to forget about Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, wiping it out of his mind as if it had never been, that was even true.

“– and he’s a proper gentleman, a good man. I’ll help him.”

That Lan Xichen was also a powerful man was something he wished he didn’t think of, but he couldn’t help the way he was.

“After I help him, I’ll figure out what to do next,” Meng Yao said, like a liar, and the cat looked at him like he was stupid – which he was being, because of course he’d already planned out what to do next, figured out his next move, and there was no point in lying to a cat about it. Meng Yao had skills that were only useful in management, not labor, and the only thing he left to sell was information about the sect from which he’d just been ejected. “No one owns me, right? Let it be the Wen sect.”

The cat did not purr, but it didn’t condemn him, either.

That would have to do.

-

It was a good thing that Meng Yao’s cat was self-sufficient, he thought, because he had neither the time nor the stomach to feed it during his time at the Wen sect.

If he had thought he had worked hard at the Nie sect, he now knew differently: at least there the worst he had faced from his colleagues had been disdain and not outright murder attempts, back-stabbing and undercutting to try to show off to Wen Ruohan, and all the while the man himself demanded more and more from him without the slightest care for his own well-being. He was grist to the mill for Wen Ruohan, no matter how much the Chief Cultivator enjoyed having another man’s prized deputy as his own – Wen Ruohan might had been very nearly driven insane by the Yin Metal, but he still remembered old grudges – and it was night and day away from Nie Mingjue’s reliance on him that was based on trust, rather than reluctantly satisfied suspicion and paranoia.

Meng Yao had hidden the cat as best as he could from the start, thinking rightfully that people would try to use it against him, and to his relief it seemed that no one else had yet laid eyes on it and identified it as his own, despite its white fur standing out like a beacon to his sight. Unfortunately there were some people that had managed to figure out that he had a cat, even if they didn’t lay eyes on it themselves, and he’d had more than a few incidents in which someone had left poisoned meat out on the floor by his room in order to catch it.

The cat seemed as unimpressed with that as anything else.

Instead, the cat seemed to have taken up hunting as its pastime. It brought back the corpses of small birds, the Yin Metal-infused little spies, full of resentful energy, that Wen Ruohan had developed for his sons to use. At first Meng Yao worried about the cat getting somehow poisoned by them, but time went on and it seemed to be fine, even thriving. It had grown into a proper cat now, no longer a kitten, and it enjoyed licking its white and shining fur until it was gleaming.

It didn’t like Meng Yao’s training sessions as much – he trained with a sword now, two-faced just like him, and in a dozen different styles, Wen and Jiang and Jin, always Jin – so sometimes Meng Yao would go back to doing the old Nie sect style again, knowing the cat would recognize the familiar movements, and it was a surefire way to get the cat to purr.

The Nie sect style was also still the best for getting out anger, all aggression and sharp movements, and Meng Yao still had a lot of anger inside of him. He was starting to think he always would.

At least here in the Nightless City he could kill the people he hated, as long as he did so in low and dirty ways that didn’t trouble Wen Ruohan or interfere with his plans, and yet every time he did it, he felt no relief, only a vile and wretched stickiness that came, perhaps, from that awful Yin Metal that he had schemed over yet couldn’t seem to escape.

The cat didn’t like the Yin Metal one bit. It hissed and scratched, and in one notable incident seemed like it was going to pounce on it directly if Meng Yao hadn’t caught it mid-leap and shoved it into his sleeve before anyone had noticed it.

“You’re going to get me into trouble,” Meng Yao told the cat next time he trained, using the soft sword he’d hidden away for a time of need to hack and slash in the Nie way, which didn’t work with a soft sword at all but which made him feel strangely better. He was currently imagining Wen Ruohan’s head underneath a saber, his head and the heads of all those corpse puppets he’d created. “I will cut you loose if you do that.”

The cat rolled onto its back and showed its soft and fluffy belly, which only the truly unwise would seek to lay a hand on – Meng Yao still had scars – and Meng Yao rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “No one owns you, not even me. But do me a favor and don’t screw this up for me. Not when I’m so close.”

Lan Xichen had been accepting his letters and feeding them to Nie Mingjue, who trusted as blindly as he ever did. Meng Yao wished sometimes that he didn’t, that he would learn, that he would put some defenses up on that stupid reckless heart of his, but on the other hand it suited his plans very well that he didn’t.

Soon, he thought. Soon.

Soon he’d know what he needed to do.

-

“Now he chooses not to trust people,” Meng Yao complained to his cat. “Now. Now!”

The cat purred.

It wasn’t that Meng Yao (damnit, Jin Guangyao, he had a new name, he was Jin Guangyao now) couldn’t understand Nie Mingjue’s reluctance to trust him – fool me once, fool me twice, but three times seemed to be the other man’s breaking point – and in some ways he understood it more than ever now that he had been accepted back by the Jin sect, clothed in the gold he’d always deserved to wear.

Jin Guangshan hadn’t lost much in the war, not like the other sects, and the second it was over he was already scheming. Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – was pulled right into the thick of it at once, less for his spying capability than for his sheer disposability, the fact that Jin Guangshan wasn’t willing to burden his pure and righteous heir with black matters that he was more than happy to taint the son of his whore with. With Nie Mingjue, general and hero of the Sunshot Campaign, representing the only real threat to the Jin sect’s domination, even if he didn’t want to be, Jin Guangyao was bound to be in opposition to him.

It made sense for Nie Mingjue not to trust him.

It irritated him regardless.

Still, lack of trust or no, Nie Mingjue had succumbed to Lan Xichen’s impassioned arguments and had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, even if Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue’s primary motivation was to keep a better eye on him and scold him the way he did Nie Huaisang. It would be politically beneficial to Jin Guangyao to be tied in such a way to Nie Mingjue – it would suit his own desires as well, though that was less important – and so he had of course agreed as well, and he was planning on going to their oath ceremony in the outfit he had chosen for himself, gold from neck to foot, a sword he’d taken from the treasury since no one would order him one of his own, and a hat on his head like the ones his mother so admired to make up for his lack of height and to hide the Nie sect braids he still habitually wore underneath.

An old habit, and one he really ought to break, really. Ideally before Nie Mingjue figured it out and told him to cut it out.

There was a knock on the door, a familiar pounding, and the cat looked up, intrigued, even as Jin Guangyao sighed voicelessly to himself. Perhaps he had waited too long.

Perhaps it would be better to make a clean cut in this way, too.

He opened the door.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he greeted, thinking to himself that it would only be a few more hours before he was entitled to call the man da-ge as if they were nearly equals and how strange that would be. “Can this humble one help you?”

“Can I come in?” Nie Mingjue asked gruffly, his eyes lingering on Jin Guangyao’s uncovered and Nie-braided hair, just as he might have expected. Had expected.

Jin Guangyao nodded and stepped back, allowing him in, and closed the door behind him. “Could I get the sect leader some refreshments?” he asked politely, but Nie Mingjue seemed to have come to a stop right in the entranceway, surprise written all over his features. “Sect Leader Nie?”

Nie Mingjue was staring at Jin Guangyao’s cat.

“…Sect Leader Nie?”

Did Nie Mingjue not like cats? There were an endless number of feral cats in Qinghe, so it seemed implausible, and yet, here Nie Mingjue was, looking at the cat like he’d never seen such a thing before in its life.

Of course, at that exact moment, Jin Guangyao’s cat, the traitor, hopped off its pillow and went straight to rub itself against Nie Mingjue’s leg, purring like a little maniac.

Jin Guangyao stared at it, feeling thoroughly betrayed by what he would have previously said was his thoroughly unsociable cat, who had taken years to warm up to him enough to give him half the attention it was now bestowing freely on Nie Mingjue. Was this the heavens deciding to mock him for his earlier betrayals?

Alternatively, Nie Mingjue might just be very good with cats, which Jin Guangyao could believe. Perhaps he even carried in his pockets some of the Qinghe vine that cats were said to be so enamored of, although certainly Meng Yao’s cat had never once before shown an interest in such things before.

“…what’s its name?” Nie Mingjue croaked, voice hoarse. He was still staring fixedly at the cat, looking as though his entire world had shattered around him. He hadn’t even looked so unsettled when Jin Guangyao had so viciously mocked him at the Nightless City, and at the time he’d thought he was going to die and be turned into a corpse puppet to murder all his loved ones.

Jin Guangyao was tempted to say something rude or facetious, something like ‘I just call it Cat, why, do you name random cats?’, but the cat had been a good companion of his for a long time now and he couldn’t do that to it, even if he was currently planning on taking an extra long bath to force the cat to miserably linger by the door to the bathing room, screeching in unhappiness at the wet, but bravely (if grumpily) supervising him to make sure he didn’t drown.

“Hensheng,” he said, because that was in fact what he’d named it – it meant hatred for life, which was not exactly an auspicious name but which had stuck from the very moment he had thought it up – and waited to hear Nie Mingjue’s judgment. “It’s not normally quite so sticky,” he added in an attempt to save some face. “With most people.”

“Well, it’s me, that’s different,” Nie Mingjue said, and maybe the man really was just the human incarnation of the plant cats liked so much. Meng Yao really wouldn’t put it past him. “You...you cultivate in the Nie sect style? Still?”

Jin Guangyao blinked, surprised by the change in subject.

“Yes,” he said, a little hesitantly. He cultivated many styles now, although it was always the Jin sect style when he was in public. But he still had all the anger in his belly to vent – even more so now than before, anger at his father, anger at Madame Jin, anger at his brother born to a blessed life, anger at all those disciples that sneered at him even after he’d been legitimized, anger, anger, anger – and the Nie sect style had always been the best for that.

And anyway, it made the cat purr.

“Is that a problem, Sect Leader Nie?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Nie Mingjue said, and when he turned to look at him his eyes were warm and soft the way they’d been all the way before the fiasco with Xue Yang, shimmering with tears of joy and a smile that seemed to come straight from his heart, the foolish easily deceived man. It was so unexpected that Jin Guangyao actually took a full two steps back, his jaw dropping a little. “I’m happy for you. Very happy.”

He actually wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, dashing away the tears.

“You should come back to the Unclean Realm to pick it up when the brotherhood ceremony is done,” he added nonsensically. “I can’t imagine how long it’s been waiting for you.”

“…what?” Jin Guangyao said. “Pick up what?”

“Hensheng,” Nie Mingjue said, which – what? “Your saber. Hensheng.”

His saber?

The saber he’d never gotten, having been banished from the Unclean Realm before the order was finished, the one he’d spent all his savings on just in putting in the deposit, the one he’d never actually finished paying off? He remembered it, of course, and sometimes it still itched under his skin that he’d never gotten what he was owed because everything that was owed to him he deserved to get in the end. But…

“Hensheng is my cat,” he said.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “That’s not a cat,” he said. “That’s a saber spirit.”

Jin Guangyao’s gaze dropped down to the cat.

The cat that never seemed to eat anything or drink anything, that never once fell for the poisoned meat or accepted his offers of treats, that no one in the Nightless City had ever seen with their own eyes; the cat that could consistently get into his rooms despite there being no holes for it to enter, as if it had simply passed through the walls like a ghost.

Like a spirit.

The cat, which purred whenever Jin Guangyao practiced the Nie sect forms, swinging a saber with rage in his heart.

The cat to which he had confessed all his anger, all his frustration, all his rage, all the feelings he never gave to any human being around him – the sabers of the Nie sect thrived on such emotions, those feelings that encouraged them and strengthened them, developing the saber spirits that made each one of them a spiritual weapon unlike any other, with power and rage infused into the very blade.

Saber spirits, which only those born into the Nie sect or adopted early, raised in their ways, one of them, could form.

“A saber spirit?” Jin Guangyao said weakly, and his knees suddenly didn’t seem strong enough to hold him; he swayed and Nie Mingjue stepped forward quickly, catching him by the shoulders to steady him. “I cultivated a saber spirit?”

“The saber is back in the Unclean Realm,” Nie Mingjue said, not without kindness. “It was only ever waiting for you to pick it up once you developed the spirit, so that you could introduce the two.”

“It hasn’t been – I would have thought it would have been thrown away, or repurposed –”

“It’s a Nie saber, Meng Yao. It won’t obey anyone else ever again, not in this life; it is yours, yours alone. When one day you die, it will be buried with honor in our saber halls, just like all the others.”

The cat looked up at him and purred.

No one owns me, Jin Guangyao thought – the first thing the cat had said to him, and he’d always had a good understanding of what the cat wanted from the very first. No one had owned that wild spirit then, but it had stayed by his side, at first from curiosity and later from habit, and it was his now.

His, and no one else’s.

“Will you come pick it up?” Nie Mingjue asked, hope in his eyes. “Will you come home, if only for a little while?”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said. “Yes, I will.”

-

Later, Jin Guangshan told his son to kill Nie Mingjue, that fool who trusted too much and didn’t know when he was being deceived, finding him in his rigidity and righteousness too much of a burden on the power he planned to wield.

Jin Guangyao bowed as deep as he could, a smile on his lips, saying nothing, and the next day, when Jin Guangshan went to the brothel as he always did, drinking tea served by his son the way he always did, he never did figure out why his heart had stopped.

(The saber Jin Guangyao began to wear openly after the funeral – a gift from his sworn brother, he said with a smile, in remembrance of his time at the Nie sect – purred in pure satisfaction.)

#mdzs #jin guangyao #meng yao #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #unawakened #prompter I have no idea what you were looking for #and it's probably not this #but this is what came to mind #omgpurplefattie

[journey-to-the-attic]

kitsune ik in devildom headcanons????

absolutely!! i don't have too many story-based ones, so this is just a lot of miscellaneous cute stuff:

whenever she's going places with someone and she can't be bothered walking, she pops into fox form and hops up onto their shoulder

sometimes lucifer will put his fancy greatcoat on properly so that ik can ride around in the coat's front pocket

she likes sleeping under luke's hat in fox form too, because it's nice and dark and warm under there - luke himself doesn't mind because she's so tiny she barely weighs anything

kitsune ik is just very cuddly in fox form in general, and once she's befriended them all, everyone is fair game

she'll pad into the common room while several brothers are sitting around, pick a lap, and plop down to sleep there

and of course the brother in question is NOT allowed to move until she wakes up

back home, miko would regularly brush out ik's fur in fox form, and then her hair in human form - in the devildom, asmo quickly takes up this duty

kitsune ik, being prone to mischief, likes to just hide around places and then just jump out at people while they're passing - one time she made barbatos jump like ten feet into the air doing it

ik makes up for it by coming to the demon lord's castle and chasing all rats out, which she has an inordinate amount of fun doing

at some point simeon gets her a bell to wear because she just keeps sneaking up on people, but doesn't tell her that's what it's for

and then ik's like "wow it's like the bells we use for some of our ceremonies back home!!!!" and thanks him profusely, which makes simeon feel really bad

ik gets homesick quite a lot, missing her big sister and inazuma in general - plus she feels kind of purposeless, since back home her entire life basically revolves around her role of taking care of shrines

lucifer gives her permission to use the living room to build herself a little shrine to take care of - since the living room is mostly empty space and barely ever used

he expects her to do something makeshift with chairs and tables and some fancy clothes or something, but no, ik goes FULL carpenter

the brothers offer to help, but all they can really do is help carry the wood and stuff, maybe paint some of it

the entire time she's putting the shrine together, ik is mumbling apologies to ei for not being able to make her a bigger, grander shrine

she charges up the gemstones with electro, lights it up with purple candles and takes care of it diligently, just like she would back home

beel starts avoiding the shrine unless he's eaten his fill recently, because otherwise he starts eating the offerings that ik's leaving at the shrine, and she gets VERY upset whenever he does

levi makes a little statue of her excellency, the almighty narukami ogosho, god of thunder for ik to place at the shrine, and she is DELIGHTED

ik's regularly making inazuman dishes, both for herself to combat the homesickness and to leave as offerings, but there aren't any teyvatian ingredients in the devildom, so she has to make do with theirs instead

sometimes it works surprisingly well, sometimes she accidentally makes something that would instantly kill a horse

beel can never get enough of the former, while solomon relishes eating the latter

she gets along GREAT with jtta mephisto - they both like to be up to no good, and they have matching pink hair too!

you know how mammon's casual outfit has that cat toy thing strapped to the belt? he uses it to play with fox-form ik and it's adorable, but also sometimes he gets into trouble

there's this thing they do where ik latches onto the toy with both teeth and paws, and then mammon just swings her round and round and round until she lets go, somersaults like ten times in a row, then lands safely

except, in the middle of the spinning, it looks a lot like mammon's winding up to launch her into the distance like in cartoons

one time satan walked in on this and immediately tackled mammon to the floor - which, ironically, actually did launch ik across the room because of the sudden stopping of the spinning

luckily she didn't hit the wall too hard, but satan was still almost in tears afterwards

satan's nearly in tears about a lot of the stuff that happens while ik's in fox form - even if she's not technically a cat she's a lot like one, and she's so SMALL

he gets her to dip her paws in ink and then walk across a big piece of paper, and the sight of those tiny toe bean prints just makes him sob for a few seconds

i've been focusing a lot of fox-form ik, but she still gets a lot of love in human form too

after all, she doesn't need to be in fox form for the others to give her a little scratch behind the ears

she sleeps hugging her tails (a behaviour she retains from when she was very little, when she'd sleep hugging miko's tails), and it's so cute

once again, this is an au where belphie would be thoroughly unable to successfully murk ik, because he'd get fried by a thunderbolt as soon as he tried

whether or not he managed to do it anyway, or if he only attacked her without doing so, ik would still thoroughly distrust him afterwards

then, after getting closure and character development and stuff, they become tentative friends

and one day, while belphie's hanging in the common room with mammon, beel and satan, fox-form ik patters in and chooses to take a nap in HIS lap above all the others. and belphie cries

he lets her ride around in the hood of his cardigan and also brushes out her fur and hair whenever asmo's not free :)

#answering asks #anon asks #kitsune ik #genshin impact #jtta aus #whenever ik's feeling especially homesick she'll curl up on the shrine and nap there for a little bit

[skyler10fic]

Intuition as a superpower

Something I love about Skye, especially early on, and can somewhat relate to is that they always think she's asking her probing questions for selfish reasons, but then she says "that's not it." And yes, she does have a personal stake in things, a reason to have an emotional connection to Shield and something to gain and deeply vulnerable questions to get answers to, but "that's not it." Over and over, she's come up with another piece of the puzzle, sees things deeper than other people, has some gut feeling to chase or intuition to make her push deeper... we always talk about her as if she's just impulsive, but the base of her character isn't impulsivity; it's intuition. She's highly perceptive, to the point of May being kind of annoyed, or at least concerned that she'll get too curious and unearth secrets, which is the whole background for how she meets up with them in the first place. "Skye's asking too many questions," May and Coulson say in conversation over and over when they have something to hide.

So I know it can look like Skye's just jumping in, but in her mind, she's as calculating as Fitz and Simmons, but she doesn't have the academy training or enough information or trust in the system every time, so it looks like impulsivity. It's not that she's any less smart; her intelligence is usually just driven by intuition more than formulas. Hunches and instinct and investigation more than theories and protocol. It makes her an excellent agent in the long run because she can make high-risk calls on the fly, but not a great director (which I was sad about but understand now) because she "just knows" the right thing without others really buying her strategy or sharing the same motives.

She works best outside the box, "off the plane," off book, coming up with the plan as she goes, doing the next right thing as intuition leads her. Playing by the "old rules" doesn't work for her, which is an advantage and what Coulson first loved about her and saw as an asset, but it also means others misinterpret her or assume the worst or accuse her of motives she doesn't have. They are fair assumptions without being in her head, which is why sometimes only May and/or Coulson understand her, but she doesn't think like others do. She has a giftedness, in the neurodivergency sense, that others don't. As an agent and superhero, it's an advantage, but personally, can be a struggle.

I do think this makes her a good leader for the welcome wagon, as Coulson picked out from the start. Long before she got her powers, or even before they knew her story, he saw that potential in her to lead something like that. And I think that's where it would have worked really well, helping newly powered people accept themselves and find where they fit, if they want to be part of it all. That takes a ton of intuition and going off book and not having to study all the data before you react.

Anyway, I love her questions and I think that's her original superpower, the intuition that leads to resilience and determination and courage.

#daisy johnson #skye #skye meta #daisy johnson meta #daisy johnson headcanons #skye headcanons #aos #agents of shield #meta #my skye #marvel

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Surprise to be Sure

Pairing: Geralt/Fem!Reader

Words: 5761

Summary:  You meet Geralt and Jaskier on the road and have a lovely little adventure in the kingdom of Temeria.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of violence, TW mentions of rape, SMUT, 18+

A/N: It’s here y’all, my b-day Geralt fic! I’m really happy with how this turned out and could honestly have published it without the smut, that’s how much I love this fic. It is definitely going to be part of a series so I hope you all enjoy! (PS I love writing Jaskier way too much and could honestly just do a full series of him having random misadventures all over the continent!) I’m tagging @navybrat817​ because I know she loves some Henry Cavill

Jaskier had been belting the Fishmonger’s Daughter for the past 30 minutes, and Geralt was ready to murder him.

“Must you insist on shouting our position to every living creature in a 5 mile radius?” He hissed at the bard.

“List, my grumpy, hoar-headed friend. I need to be sure my voice is in top form if I’m performing at a royal ball. Now, you’ll feel better if you sing with me, Oooh Fishmonger, Oh Fishmonger, Come Quell your Daughter’s Hunger!”

“I’m going to feed you that damn lute before we reach the castle if you don’t shut up. I can’t listen to this for three days.” The Witcher growled under his breath. He couldn’t figure out why he had agreed to accompany the irritating man on his journey, but the man always managed to convince him to go along with his stupid plans.  

“Now, Geralt. You know you secretly love my singing. After all, how many jobs has that little song of mine rustled up for you, eh? Stop being so grouchy.”

He gave him a grunt. “Fine, can you at least sing something else?”

“Ah, but of course, my large, angry friend. Eh hem, You think you’re safe, without a care…”

“Gods, not that one.”

“Well, there’s no pleasing you is there. Ahh, what’s that noise?”

A feminine shriek split the air, causing a flock of birds to take flight only a few feet from the pair of riders. Roach of course didn’t mind, but Jaskier’s mount almost threw him, causing Geralt to smile.

“Gods, see, this is why I hate travelling on these creatures. Give me a nice coach ride any time. Come Geralt, let us see what fair maiden is in need of our assistance.”

“Our assistance?”

“Well, your assistance. C’mon Geralt, a damsel in distress, this is the perfect material for a new song.”

Geralt followed the idiot as he rode towards the sounds of distress, determined to keep him from getting himself killed. He didn’t really like getting involved in petty issues of the realms but knew that Jaskier lived for these tiny adventures.

They came upon you, surrounded by five men in soiled armor. Your cart had a broken wheel and was sinking into the snow and mud. One of the men had you pinned in the back of the cart by your neck as he buried his other hand in your skirts. The other men jeered at you as they kept their watch.

“Look Geralt, a fair maid waiting to be rescued, what could make for a better song? Ho there fellows, stop your raping or you’ll have to deal with my cantankerous companion here.”

“Move along, bard this doesn’t concern you.” One of the soldiers growled at Jaskier before spitting to the side. “Or, wait your turn and we’ll let you and your pal have her when we’re done.”

“Ah, Geralt, I’ll let you take care of them. Make sure to draw it out, a long fight always makes for a better song.”

“Oh, fuck this.” You hissed, pulling out the stiletto you had hidden in your skirts and gutting the man who was restraining you.

Jaskier turned his head and vomited as the man’s intestines seeped out of him and he crumbled to the forest floor. You flung your cloak off your shoulders as you drew the obscenely large longsword you had concealed beneath its folds and chopped off the hand of the next soldier who came charging at you before plunging it into his chest.

“I don’t know, bard. Seems like the maid has things under control.” Geralt grinned at his companion once he had finished emptying his stomach.

You wrenched the blade free as the two unhorsed soldiers rushed you. One of them tossed his own dagger at you and you used your sword to whip it back at him, catching him in the throat. You brought up your dagger and crossed the blades you were holding to catch the sword of your fourth opponent. You managed to loop the dagger under his hilt and wrenched the sword from his grasp as you let the momentum from his attack carry you the two of you backwards, flipping him over your head until you were straddling his chest. You gave him a small smirk as your drove your dagger through his eye.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” Jaskier asked as he watched the bloody show with abject horror painted on his face.

“What would you suggest bard? The woman seems to be able to handle herself, and I can’t say these soldiers seem particularly deserving of assistance.”

The final soldier had dismounted and was now striding towards you, twirling his sword around like an idiot peacock. You scowled at him before pulling a massive crossbow from beneath the packages in your cart and shooting him in the shoulder.

He went down with a soft grunt and you strutted over to him, crossbow slung over your shoulder and dagger twirling through your fingers. You tutted at him like you were chiding a naughty schoolboy.

“Oh, Abbett, what did you do with the money? I certainly hope you have it on you. I don’t feel like trekking through this frozen forest digging for it.”

“You cunt.” The man spat at you. “We fought those bloody Nilfgaardians to keep these farmers safe and warm. The least they can do to thank us is give up a few bloody coins and their daughters.”

You shot him again in the leg and he let out a scream.

“One more time, Abbett, the money? I can’t give those poor girls their maidenhoods again but maybe their families can offer a dowry to make them good matches.”

“Argh, bitch! It’s in the saddlebags.”

“Excellent! See, not so fucking difficult, and you saved me the nasty task of gelding you!” You took a few steps forward and shot him through the eye as you went to examine the horse and find the stolen coins.

“Ahem, hello, madam! I am Jaskier the Bard and this is my companion, Geralt of Rivia! Would you join us on our journey to the capital of Temeria? You seem like a lass with stories to tell and I’m just the fellow to put them to song.”

“Jaskier, shut the fuck up.” Geralt hissed at him.

You whipped around to the two of them and pointed your crossbow at the Witcher. “Fuck, I almost forgot about you two. Well, you’ve given me a bit of a conundrum boys. I was counting on there not being any witnesses here. These vagabonds are still wearing the king’s colors after all, and we’re close enough to the capital that that could prove to be a problem for me.” You had started to unfasten the bodice of the gown you were wearing, desperate to get out of the confining layers of cloth that had comprised your disguise. You revealed an outfit of bleached leather and furs that clung to your body.

“Oops.” Jaskier murmured, giving Geralt a sheepish grin as he raised his hands in supplication. “Geralt, friend, maybe you can talk to our new companion.”

“Right, listen, we don’t care that you just slaughtered five of the king’s soldiers, though I’m sure upon closer inspection they’ll be shown to be deserters. And as we have no desire to bring any trouble down on you, we’ll just be on our way.”

“Wait,” You called after them, tossing the rags of your gown onto the abandoned cart as you saddled your horse. “If you’re heading towards the capital, I’ll join you. I have some deliveries to make before I get out of this god-forsaken country, and that way I can keep an eye on you.” You gave them a grin as you rode up the hill to join them. “I can think of worse company than a bard and a Witcher.”

Jaskier shot a grin back at you as you joined them. “Ah, finally someone who will appreciate my talents. Tell me… um..”

“Y/N”

“Y/N, lovely, do you have any requests?”

Geralt groaned internally at the thought of being stuck with two singing idiots for the journey but was cut short by the sound of multiple bows being drawn.

“Fuck.”

“That’s far enough you three.” A captain in shining armor commanded as you came into view of a mounted regiment of king’s soldiers, accompanied by about 100 footmen who all had arrows trained on you. “What do you know about several groups of dead king’s men that have been found in these woods.”

Geralt shot you a look of reproach over his shoulder as you pointedly avoided making eye contact, examining your fingernails like they were the most interesting thing on the continent.

“There’s another group of dead soldiers in the clearing back there, captain. Looks like we’ve found our culprits.”

“Oh, just wait a minute. My grouchy friend and I were just passing through when we came upon this lovely woman being set upon by these supposed kingsmen. Granted, we considered dispatching them ourselves but our fair companion had things well in hand. Seems like she was doing your jobs for you.”

You and Geralt shared a groan. “Shut up, Jaskier.”

The captain gave a snort of derision. “You want us to believe this pretty thing has been besting the king’s chosen troops on her own for months? Take their weapons and restrain the Witcher and the woman. The bard can sing us some songs to pass the time as we travel. We’ll save this for the king to sort out.”

You gave a heavy sigh and started handing over your blades. Jaskier’s eyes started to bulge as you continued pulling smaller and smaller knives out of an increasingly absurd number of hiding places, until there was an impressive pile in front of the soldier who had been tasked with collecting your weapons.

Geralt was less forthcoming in turning over his weapons and didn’t really start until a spear prodded him in the back. He was gazing at Renfri’s blade when the captain lost his patience, and the butt of the spear whipped across the back of his head, knocking him cold.

“Put his blades with the rest of it.”

Geralt woke up with his face buried in your hair and let out a groan at the throbbing in his skull.

“What the fuck?” He lifted his head, squinting against the sun reflecting off the new fallen snow.

“Good morning, Witcher. Apparently this type of restraint has been proven to limit the ability of the restrained to extricate themselves from their bindings. You missed a fascinating lecture on it as they were tying us up.”

The two of you were bound face to face on the saddle of your massive black courser. Your arms and legs tangled around each other and wrapped in an intricate series of knots. He started trying to wrench himself free, but only succeeded in bringing you even closer to him as he let out a grunt of frustration.

“Look at the two of you, so cozy.” Jaskier rode up with a grin on his face, strumming his lute. “Do not worry yourselves, my violent friends. I am currently working on a plan to extricate the two of you from this predicament. I have the ear of the captain.”

“Are you going to annoy him to death Jaskier? Maybe if you sing that damn abortion song enough times, he’ll release us just to be rid of you.”

“You wound me, Geralt. The name of that tune is “You Think You’re Safe” and you’ll be happy to know that the captain is enamored of my talents and has asked me to regale him and his officers at their meal tonight.”

“Ah, good for you Jaskier. Make sure to sing the ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ I hear that’s a favorite of the troops.” You smiled at him, throwing him a wink.

“Oh, I knew I liked you, Y/N! See Geralt, it isn’t so hard to appreciate what I bring to the table. Thank you for your advice, sweet lady, I will be sure to take heed!” He rode off, humming to himself as he tuned his lute.

“Why would you encourage him?” Geralt growled in your ear, still fighting against his bonds.

“Ah, Witcher, you need to relax. I’m sure Jaskier’s plan will work out just fine.”

“The bard is an imbecile, the day I trust myself to any plan of his is the day I resign myself to a slow and painful death.”

“Well, be that as it may, if you don’t stop struggling, we’re going to end up in a very uncomfortable situation.” You said, giving a gasp as another jerk of your bonds brought you indecently close.

“Fuck.” He let out in a hiss, resigning himself to waiting for a better opportunity as a lock of your hair blew into his face, smelling of pine and turned earth “I don’t suppose you have any sort of plan of escape, since it’s your fault we’re in this situation.”

“Geralt, I do apologize that you have ended up in my mess. I’m so sorry that the war with Nilfgaard has caused unprecedented levels of desertion, and that the cowards that have runoff have been terrorizing and robbing the smallfolk. And I’m sorry that the king failed to listen to the pleas of his people, who had to pool together the last of their coin to contract me to come in and relieve them of their problems. But yes, this mess is entirely of my own making, and nothing to do with the colossal mismanagement of the realm of Temeria.”

“Hmmph.” He grunted into your hair. “So how are you getting us out of this mess?”

You gave him a snort. “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours Witcher, something will work out.”

“Alright, dismount.” One of the lieutenants ordered, leering at the two of you. “Hope you two have enjoyed today’s ride. I hear they’re already constructing a gibbet for you in Vizima.”

“I see the royal council has decided to do away with even the minimal farce of a trial then.”

Two soldiers had started to undo the maze of knots binding you and the Witcher together and you gave a hiss as blood started to flow back into your legs.

“An attack on the king’s army is an attack on the king. No trials for traitors to the crown.”

“You do know that neither of us are citizens of this kingdom?” Geralt asked him. “You can’t betray a monarch you don’t serve.”

“Pssh, a minor inconsistency. The king can’t be seen as soft during wartime.”

“Oh, of course not.” You murmured as the soldiers dragged you off your mount and led you to the prisoners’ tent that had been erected next to the officers’. The same intricate raveling of ropes and knots started again as they bound your upper bodies to the poles in the center of the tent. You could hear the beginnings of revelry in the officers’ pavilion when they left you.

“Well, now what?” Geralt asked you, pulling against the bonds at his wrists.

“Just, have a little patience.” You chided him, leaning against your pole in as relaxed of a pose as you could achieve.

“You did hear that they plan on executing us once they get us back to the capital?”

“No, Geralt, I missed that.” You spat at him as you heard Jaskier start to sing and gave a small smile. “Excellent, let’s hope he leaves the good stuff until they’re well and drunk.”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” He asked you, still trying to wrench himself free.

“For fucks’ sake, give it a rest. Apparently the royal knot tyers are the only members of this army who haven’t fallen lax in their duties.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Just give it a half hour and we’ll give you a chance to get out all the pent up aggression.”

“So you do have a plan? Any chance you want to let me in on it?”

“I think I’ll leave it for a surprise.”

The two of you sat there listening as the sounds of drunken celebration filled the camp. It only took 20 minutes for the revelry to reach a dull roar, and a smile crept over your face when you heard the first refrains of ‘The Fishmonger’s Daughter’.

“Ah, Jaskier, perfect timing.” You muttered.

The song started speeding up and spread through the regiment. You heard the soldiers start clapping along and seized your moment, bending your legs and driving your back into the post you were bound to at each clap, starting to shift it out of the ground with each drive of your shoulders.

Geralt finally seized on your idea and joined you in wrenching his post out of the ground. Within a few rounds of the song, they were loosened enough for you to drag them out of their anchors, causing the tent to collapse around you. You slipped your bonds over the ends of the posts and unraveled yourselves. Geralt gave you a look of appreciation as you hefted your post, flung the folds of the fallen tent off yourself and whipped the post around to take out the two guards that had been posted at the entrance.

“Well, let’s find our weapons, shall we?” You said, giving him a grin.

Apparently, your appraisal of the army had been accurate; you ran into minimal resistance as you made your way to the weapons tent and managed to knock out the only sentries you encountered before Geralt had a chance to react.

“Ah, my babies.” You said to yourself as you started resheathing the ridiculous number of knives you had accumulated for yourself, kissing each blade before you returned it to its rightful place.

“How can you possibly be comfortable wearing all of that steel?” Geralt asked you around a grin, watching you tuck a dirk between your breasts and wondering how you managed to not cut yourself.

“I’m a woman traveling the continent alone, Witcher. I’ve found that the element of surprise is my friend, and there’s nothing quite as surprising as an unexpected knife between the ribs.”

He actually laughed at that, strapping one sword to his back and one to his hip as you hefted your crossbow and loaded it with a bolt before heading back out into the snow.

You were met by the surprised faces of a drunken group of soldiers who were wending their way through the tents, arms around each other as the slurred the lyrics to their favorite song. You shot the first through the chest as you drew your longsword over your shoulder and you dropped your crossbow to the ground, slashing the second across the face before they finally regained their composure and sounded the alarm.

Geralt drew his blades and clashed with three of the remaining soldiers as you grappled with the other two. He managed to drive his long sword through one of their chests before the other two had a chance to converge on him and he struggled to drive them apart with his fists to allow himself room to maneuver. One of his opponents went down suddenly with a dagger through his throat and Geralt threw a look your way to see your first opponent down and missing an eye as you drove your knee into the chest of your second opponent, driving him into a post as you brought your sword around and ran it across his throat.

Geralt threw his assailant over his shoulder and rammed his blade through his chest as you let out a shrill whistle and hefted your crossbow as the sound of hoofbeats rose through the camp. Roach and your courser came charging around the bend suddenly and you latched onto your steed’s mane and swung yourself onto his back as Geralt vaulted onto Roach’s. You turned suddenly and led him back towards the officers’ pavilion as drunken soldiers did their best to pursue you.

“We almost forgot the fucking bard!” You grinned at him as you hopped off your horse and slashed through the back of the officers’ tent. You emerged seconds later with a terrified looking Jaskier, who you tossed over the back of your mount like a sack of potatoes before leaping up behind him and kicking your steed to a gallop.

“Either of you want to fill me in on what the fuck is happening?!” Jaskier shrieked as he bounced around.

The two of you ignored him as you rode on. You set a punishing pace through the whole night, not looking back until you crossed the river into the kingdom of Redania as the sun rose and you finally allowed your horses to slow their pace to a walk, dismounting to give them a rest.

“If my lute is damaged, I’ll never forgive you.” Jaskier whined as he inspected his instrument, hobbling along as he tried to adjust after the unceremonious thrashing he had taken during the ride.

“Jaskier, a little thanks should be in order. Y/N and I did save you from a rather nasty execution after all.” Geralt grinned at him as he walked beside you, Roach nuzzling him in the shoulder as he patted her snout.

“I told the two of you, I had the captain’s ear, I would have been able to talk us out of any trouble.”

You gave him a snort as your courser butted his head into yours, begging for his own pats. “Jaskier, you would have been strung up right beside us. Just think though, this little adventure has the makings of a great song, eh? I’ll buy you a nice hot meal and a bath at the inn we’re coming up on.”

“Well, I’d never say no to a bath. How close is this inn?”

“Just over the next hill.”

You arrived within an hour and made arrangements for the horses as Jaskier headed in to arrange rooms and meals for the three of you.

Geralt and you headed into the inn and you grabbed the two of you the largest mugs of beer you could arrange before joining Jaskier at a table and tearing into the trencher of bread.

“So, good news first.” The bard said. “I arranged for nice, hot baths for all three of us, in addition to our meals. The only thing is, they only had two rooms.”

Geralt let out a groan at that. “Fine, bard, I guess the two of us are sharing accommodations for the next few days then.”

“Aah, well. I figured, with you two having grown so close during our little journey, that you wouldn’t mind sharing the much, much larger room whilst I make due with the tiny, lonely room myself that I’ve already had them unload my things into.”

The two of you shot him equally reproachful looks over your mugs of beer as a barmaid arrived to let him know his bath was ready.

“Ah, splendid. Well, you two enjoy your breakfasts. I’m going to take a very long nap after my bath and I’ll see you this afternoon, or maybe even tomorrow.”

A whole roasted chicken arrived and the two of you tore into it without a word, polishing it off quickly as you hadn’t realized how famished you were.

“I’ll arrange for them to bring up the hot water for baths for us.” You told Geralt as you stood up and stretched, downing the last of your beer.

“I’m fine without.” The Witcher grumbled at you.

You gave him a derisive chuckle. “If we’re bedding together for the two days it’ll take for the horses to rest up, you’re bathing yourself at least once, I don’t need to smell everywhere you’ve been in the past month.”

He gave an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders as he followed you upstairs. It had been a while since he’d spent the night with a woman he wasn’t paying, and there was something about you he found disarming. Endearing, but disarming nonetheless.

“Ah, at least there’s two tubs.” You said gleefully as you entered the room. A group of attendants arrived a moment later, carrying four large buckets of steaming water between them that they emptied into the copper tubs before taking their leave.

You started by pulling off your supple boots and Geralt turned his back as he began to unlace his jerkin. He heard you give a soft laugh behind him. “Are we really going to pretend like neither of us have seen a naked body before, Witcher?”

He whipped around at the amusement in your voice. You had removed your corset and sleeves and were down to nothing but a thin linen tunic on top. He tried not to stare at the shape of your breasts moving beneath the fabric as you worked at unlacing your breeches. You shot him a wicked look through your lashes as you moved your fingers back to unstrap the multiple sheathes that had been hidden beneath your bodice.

He did his best to ignore you as he ripped his jerkin off over his head. He made easy work of his tunic and breeches and sank into the tub while you were still working on undoing the intricate trappings of your hidden arsenal.

“I really don’t see how you can be comfortable in all of that Y/N.” He chided you as you removed the final straps and drew your tunic over your head before shimmying out of your breeches. He did his best to keep his eyes occupied elsewhere as you stepped into your own bath, hissing at the heat.

“Comfort is a matter of individual preference, dear. Oh, that’s wonderful.” You sank into the water with a sigh and dunked your head under before coming back up with a gasp.

“So, you going to tell me how you ended up with a warhorse, enough steel to equip a small band of thieves, and the strength to wield a tentpole like a damn quarterstaff, or is that something I’ll have to guess at?” He asked as he dumped a bucket over his head and ran the water through his hair before shaking it back out and splashing you, making you yelp.

“I think I’ll keep that my little secret for now, Geralt. Maybe if you buy me a few strongales over the next few days I’ll regale you with my tale of woe.” You let out a sigh as you felt your muscles relax. “Maybe I’ll get you to tell me your history as well. I hear the Redanians have a liquor that will light your chest on fire and make you forget the seasons.”

He gave a laugh and settled his head back against the tub. “You think you can outdrink me girl, you’re in for a nasty surprise… fuck.” He hadn’t heard you leave your tub and sat up startled when you crawled into his, sloshing water over the sides.

“Oh, Geralt, you’ll find that I’m full of surprises.” You said before pressing your mouth to his softly and giving a gentle sigh.

He got over his surprise quickly and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you to him fiercely as he growled against your lips.

You gave him a small laugh as you moved your lips down the line of his jaw to his neck, running your teeth along his collarbone before nipping at him softly as your hands moved down the plains of his chest, dipping below the water to take his cock in your grasp. He gave you a satisfying moan as you did so and you began sliding your hand up and down his length slowly as you raised a small bruise on his shoulder with your mouth.

He bucked his hips up into your hand as you increased your pace and you moved your other hand below the water to play with his balls. You leaned against his chest and gazed up at him with heavy lids as you watched him come apart under your ministrations.

He arched his back and gave a heavy moan as he came in your hand and you grinned against his chest as he softened, planting soft kisses along his throat as he came down and his breathing slowed.

He swallowed thickly and grinned at you before scooping his arms underneath you and lifting you out of the tub easily, making you shriek with glee before he dropped you unceremoniously on the large bed and pounced on top of you, nuzzling himself into the skin below your ear as his large hands skimmed down the sides of your torso before coming to rest on your hips and kneading them, raising bruises on your soft skin.

He brought one hand between the two of you and ran his fingers through the soft hair of your mound before rubbing them between your folds, making you arch into him as you let out a thin whine, fluttering your lashes as you gazed at him. He grinned down at you as he inserted two fingers at an agonizingly slow pace and you moaned as he started fucking them into you, curling them against that sweet, spongy spot each time.

He added another finger as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your clean scent as you mewled and whimpered, begging him for more. He started strumming your clit with his thumb and you writhed underneath him, doing your best to grind your cunt into him as his fingers stretched you.

It was almost too much when he added the fourth finger and you wrapped your hands in his silver hair, pressing his face to your neck as you cried silently. He moved his mouth back to yours as he increased his speed and pressure on your tiny bud, moving his tongue softly past your lips and tangling it with yours. You came around him, clenching down on his fingers in your release as all the breath rushed out of you. He felt you go rigid beneath him before you collapsed back against the bed with a sigh.

“You think you’re ready for me sweetheart?” He asked as he kissed your neck, moving his hands up to palm your breasts.

You pulled his head back by his hair and gave him a grin before squeezing his sides with your thighs and rolling until you were on top of him, straddling his hips.

You sat up over him and he groaned at the sight of you, soft skin moving over lean muscle, a patchwork of faint scars covering your torso. He ran his thumb over an especially noticeable one that ran over your ribs below your left breast as you guided him to your entrance and sheathed his length inside you suddenly, making him hiss.

You started grinding against him, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone before you started fucking yourself on his cock. He tossed his head back with a moan and a murmured “Fuck” as his hands moved to your hips and guided your thrusts, meeting your hips with his own as he rutted up into you.

He sat up suddenly and pressed you to him as he knelt beneath you, staring into your eyes with lust blown pupils, a thin golden ring around a pool of deep black. You wrapped your legs around his back as he fucked up into you at a faster pace, making it hard for you to breathe.

He wrenched your head down to his and crashed his mouth against yours, his tongue invading you hungrily as you felt your pleasure starting to coil in your abdomen and you whimpered into his mouth.

He felt you starting to clench around him and moved a hand between you to strum at your clit. It only took a moment and you were flying apart around him, every muscle below your waist spasming as your orgasm wracked you and you cried into his mouth. His release was right behind yours as his hips stilled and you felt his spend spurting into you, coating your velvety walls in his release with a feral growl.

He collapsed back on the bed, still holding you to him as you both came down from you pleasure, breathing heavily as your hearts pounded together. You propped your chin on his chest and gave him a sinful grin that he returned, planting a kiss on the top of your head as you started to untangle yourselves.

“Well, if all your surprises are that pleasant, Y/N, I can’t wait to find out more.” He said to you over his shoulder as he stood up from the bed, grabbing a towel to finish drying himself off. He tossed you one and you ran it softly between your thighs, cleaning the mixture of your releases from your slit as you grinned back at him.

“My dear Witcher, I aim to please.” You threw a wink at him before you stood up and stretched. “I arranged for some clean clothes to be brought up, could you check the door for them?”

He peeked his head out and brought in two sets of soft woolens, tossing one to you. You yanked a tunic over your head before stepping into the clean pair of breeches. You decided to forgo most of your blades for the moment, opting for a simple belt that contained two daggers once you had finished lacing up your bodice.

“Shall we head down for more ale?”

“Gods yes, what else do you know about this storied Redanian liquor?”

You gave him a throaty laugh as you headed down to the main room and lute music floated up to meet you.

“Ah, Y/N! Geralt! My friends! Join us for a song won’t you? Y/N, I still want to hear you sing ‘The Fishmonger’s Daughter’ for us, eh? Oh Fishmonger, Oh Fishmonger, Come Quell your Daughter’s Hunger”

“Gods, Jaskier, aren’t you sick of that song yet?” Geralt growled half heartedly

“Pull the stick out of your ass, Witcher. C’mon, Jaskier. To pull on my horn, as it rises in the morn!”

“What a lovely voice you have my lady! For tis naught but bad luck, to fuck with a puck!”

The Witcher rolled his eyes at the two of you as he headed to the bar and the rest of the patrons joined in. What he wouldn’t give to never hear this abominable tune ever again.

“Lest your grandkid be born, a hairy young faun! Bleating and baying all day, hey ho!”

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes​

#geralt of rivia #geralt x ofc #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #witcher netflix #witcher fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

[konohagakurekakashi]

Headcanons:

[Hatake Kakashi & Senju Tsunade] 🍶

1.) Kakashi is an excellent gambler seeing as he's good at recognising patterns and counting cards (his shelves of Icha Icha lottery winnings was definitely not a result of dipping into his own pockets, please). To showcase his gambling talent; he once while on a mission with Team Minato, won back all of Tsunade's losses, as well as their meal and board for the night.

2.) Kakashi has taken out more than his fair share of loan sharks while being of Jōnin rank....the largest wave coming right after the inauguration ceremony of the Fifth. It was one of his and Gai's challenges at one point to see who could 'halt the track' of desprate yakuza past the outer rims of the village in the most creative ways possible.

3.) It was due to the fact that Kakashi once won back her Ryō, served as a shield from the Senju's IOUs and his willingness to often point out Shizune’s sake hiding spots with a single, dull gaze about her office; that he still has all of his limbs in tact, despite his knack for pushing all of the wrong buttons and reading sappy, romance novels in public.

4.) A lot of Tsunade's soldiers are scared of her brute strength and her altering emotions (as they should be), yet it also has the effect of people rarely being honest with her or providing her with their opinions/concerns; Konoha-nin choosing instead to give her the answers they think she wants to hear. This has never been a problem with Kakashi. I mean, let's be honest, self-preservation has never been a Hatake virtue. In contrast to his comrades he always manages to provide her with the cold, hard truth even at the expense of a pen to the forehead.

5.) With that said Kakashi rarely bothers to move out of the way of her flying projectiles...even though they both know that he could avoid the collision without hassle--resulting in many an ink stain on his flak jacket and a broken nose due to an eraser-made-bullet. He only draws the line when stationary morphs into tables and (formerly built-in) book cases. He still has a few things to mark off of his bucket list.

6.) Tsunade is one of the few (still living) that has seen Kakashi without his mask. Mainly due to the fact that she is the only one able to successfully stampede over his terrible bedside manner to do some actual healing. Moreso he only ever attended his annual physicals when Tsunade was in the village. No he didn't have a choice.

7.) He makes a show of sassing her pertaining his workload and nitpicks about unnecessary details... But really... She is probably the Kunōichi he has the utmost respect for and would probably down a vat of vinegar if she deemed it necessary for his health or his village.

8.) Kakashi once had to borrow one of Tsunade's tops.... Unfortunate but necessary at the time, since he was half-way in the shower when the village alarms blarred a state of emergency. He remembered his mask, pants and weapon's pouch... Yet his standard blue shirt lay forgotten in a pile on his bathroom floor---along with his dignity. When Tenzo refused to be the better man and provide him with his own... Kakashi had no choice but to turn his imploring gaze on his Hokage and really she was the one who insisted he cover his chest in the first place.

9.) Pilfering the hospital stock cupboard once resulted in the Hatake being forced to sign up for a series of Tsunade's medicinal tea trials. He honestly doesn't know what he did to warrant constant punishment in his past life, but somehow he manages to make due. Luckily the woman is a true master in her field, with the sickly, sweet scented brews leading to nothing worse than a rash in the shape of a hand fan and a month of everything tasting like watermelon, except for watermelon itself. Again there are worse things to be saddled with in the Elemental Nations.

10.) Kakashi knows how Tsunade takes her tea, that she likes her drinks cold and what flavour dumplings she prefers and had to use said knowledge on numerous occassions to avoid rewriting (and resubmitting, urgh long, boring shinobi queues) a mission report or two.

#konohagakurekakashi #Headcanons #So this blog had a Birthday #Have two headcanons for each year of my Kashi's existence #Hip Hip Hooray #Hatake Kakashi #Senju Tsunade #Naruto Headcanons #Hatake Kakashi [The Scarecrow] #Senju Tsunade [Godaime Sake-sama]