#she for sure didn't get much or any from her father in her youth

[spankinganthologies]

Stepmoms from Spankingwomen

"Is there any way we can not tell my dad about this?"

On Christmas Eve, Andrea cuts a deal with her new stepmother, a woman she barely knows when you get right down to it, in order to keep her father in the dark when it comes to a few winter break transgressions. The only thing Andrea didn't realize was that her stepmother, who was only 13 years older than her, was a firm believer in old school discipline. 

When she agreed to take a spanking in exchange for secrecy, Andrea didn't realize she was going to be put over the knee to take a panties down, bare ass beating with a big nasty brush. By the time her eyes were blurry with tears, staring directly into the lights on the Christmas tree as she got her bottom blistered, she had already realized that maybe the smarter play would have been trying to charm her way out of punishment with her daddy.

(this should have happened to me fairly regularly, but it didn't)

It turned out, that despite her youthful appearance, Mary's new stepmother was rather old school when it came to matters of discipline. She knew how to handle a brat efficiently and effectively - even a brat well into her college years. Over the knee, skirt up and panties down - there was nothing Mary could say to talk her way out of it. 

And it was as if her new stepmother was making up for lost time, for all those years that Mary had gone unspanked. When she took Mary across her knees, the spanking would seem to last forever, until Mary's poor bottom was red and swollen and her throat was sore from hollering.

It's an embarrassing routine but one that Trisha knows well.

Before being taken across her mother's lap and spanked, she is required to stand naked in the corner and think about the reasons she is not being permitted to wear clothes, about why she is going to be getting a spanking, how her bottom will be burning before too long and what exactly she needs to change in her behavior to avoid a scene like this playing out again in the future. Trisha knows she will be asked about these things both while getting her butt blistered and then in the immediate aftermath as well, so she knows that she had better have some good answers.

And then, the spanking itself.

Two sessions. First, her mother's hand, which is plenty bad enough. But then a humiliating naked trek down the hall and into her mother's bedroom, crying and bottom very much reddened already, to retrieve the hairbrush and bring it back to the living room. Then back over the knee for the finale which will leave Trisha squealing as her mother spanks some much needed sense into her with that evil brush. Face covered in snot and tears, Trisha will be stood back up (not allowed to rub her bottom at all) and the lecture will continue.

Finally, it's back to the corner, still naked, while she tries to catch her breath and stop boohooing. Now, her little backside is fire engine red. Shamefully, she's very damp between her legs - something that happens whenever she gets a damn good spanking. She can't help but think about how she'll masturbate for hours later before falling asleep. Her nipples are hard and ache. But the lesson is learned. If she can be a good girl in the corner, she will be allowed to get dressed and go upstairs before her father or brother get home.

She's going to spank that defiance right out of her spoiled step-daughter. All toughness will soon melt away and the tears will come. It's quite humbling to be crying like a baby with your jeans and panties around your knees and your bum rapidly turning bright red. A good spanking can really take a brat down a peg or two!

***

If Candy's monster of a stepdaughter refused to listen to reason and continued down this path, then you can be damn sure Candy was going to do something about it.

Candy may have only been 14 years older than the bitch, but she knew in her heart she could teach her lesson. The little brat had never been spanked in her entire life and she also didn't have the guts to fight back. Even if she did, Candy could overpower her easily. She was 100% confident about that!

There was no faster path to a real and meaningful attitude adjustment than the path of a crimson behind and that was exactly the path Candy intended to take her stepdaughter down. She intended to take her over her knee, pull down her panties and give her the spanking of all spankings. Things were going to change. There was a new law of the land. 

And after she blistered that nightmare's bare bottom, Candy intended to go to the store and find a suitable hairbrush - just like the one Candy's mother had used on Candy's behind years ago - and then she was going to put that hairbrush to good use going forward. The little brat may never love her, but she was damn sure going to respect her.

(okay, I wasn't a full-blown 'monster' or 'nightmare' but I'm sure she wanted to spank me plenty hard more than a few times!)

There were plenty of lessons learned with her butt bare and her panties down around her knees. Sometimes the cane, sometimes the strap - her mother was a resourceful woman who could punish a naughty bottom with the best of them. A countless number of their "little chats" ended in tears.

Mary's new stepmother has her own ideas about how to deal with errant young ladies, no matter how old they are or how mature they think they might be. It seems like Mary is in for a rather rude awakening.

***

***

Jenny was always punished in the living room.  This sometimes proved to be awkward as there were times when her stepmother sent her to her room to wait for a spanking.  Then, when her stepmother decided she was ready, Jenny would have to come back downstairs where a chair would then be waiting in the center of the room.  It was always the same: over-the-knee, panties down and one very sorry girl.  The awkward (and most humiliating) part was the walk of shame back upstairs.  Jenny would be trying not trip over her underwear, shuffling and still crying hard as she marched her fire engine red ass to bed. 

Her stepmother was a cold, calm and firm disciplinarian. She was strict and knew how to spank.  Jenny begged her father for reprieve, claiming she was far too old to be spanked, but he just shrugged. "If you don't want to be punished, then you need to learn how to behave," he would tell her and the matter would close.

The spankings themselves were long and painful.  Both of Jenny's cheeks would be sore and swollen for days making sitting uncomfortable.  But it wasn't just her ass that her stepmother would target. Oh, no. Jenny's stepmother spanked the backs of her thighs too. Hard smacks over and over causing Jenny to shriek and kick.  Jenny would be left raw from the top of her bottom nearly to her knees.  The rest of the girls on the swim team always knew when Jenny had earned herself another spanking.

#spankingwomen #stepmom spanks #mom spanks #college

[stellar-skyy]

THE WARMTH OF HOME - Platonic Freminet x reader

i. SUMMARY: Freminet welcomes the newest member to the House of the Hearth. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Referenced family death. iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, found family, fluff, slight angst, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.3k words. iv. A/N: this is me coping with the fact that i didn't get freminet or lyney.. at least i have my free lynette 😭😭

The Knave’s hand was as cold as ice in (Name)’s own, the sharp sensation anchoring them solidly in the present. Her rings pressed into their skin, the grooves of the silver making faint marks against their fingers. They didn’t make any move to adjust their grip, content to let the metal carve indents in their hand for as long as she would allow them to keep clinging tightly to hers.

The woman tugged on their conjoined hands, pulling them up to walk beside her, rather than trailing slightly behind.

“Don’t fall behind.” She scolded. Despite the blunt words, her voice was soft, motherly; nothing at all like what a Fatui Harbinger should sound like. The Fatui were the subjects of cautionary stories told in their youth; like ‘better eat your vegetables or the Harbinger might steal you away.' Right alongside the tales of hilichurls eating little kids who wandered away in the forest. They were sly and cunning, twisted monsters who crept across every corner of Teyvat.

They weren’t fierce protectors who rescued defenceless, orphaned children and let them cling to their hands while they walked.

“(Name)? Are you okay?” She asked.

They nodded, hesitantly. The Knave clicks her tongue in displeasure at the obvious lie, but doesn’t call them out on it.

The two walked up to the entrance of a grand house; built from ivory-coloured bricks and sprawling across the yard with arched windows and trimmed hedges. Before either of them had a chance to touch the doorknob, two guards pulled open to enormous doors to let them in.

Standing along the length of the corridor were guards; Fatui, if the masks were any indication. Not a single one bothered to look at the two walking down the hallway, and the Knave herself swept by without acknowledging them at all. Their behaviour seemed all too casual for such a peculiar situation, like they watched a Fatui Harbinger walk down the halls with children clinging to their hand every week.

The two rounded the corner, The Knave stopping in her tracks at seeing a small child loitering in an open doorway. The boy looked young, staring at them with a blank expression, a small penguin toy clutched in his arms.

“Ah, Freminet.” The Knave greeted, finally letting go of (Name)’s hand. They shrank backwards, clutching their hand to their chest. The phantom feeling of skin-to-skin contact sent tingles across their fingers. Somehow, it felt so much colder than before.

“Freminet, please escort (Name) to their new room.” He nodded, his serious expression almost comical when paired with his young face.

“Yes, Father.” Father? Not Mother?

“I will be leaving in a moment, and I will not be back for a while. Make sure they settle in comfortably.”

“Yes, Father.” Freminet bobbed his head slightly. The Knave hummed in satisfaction, leaning down to drop a kiss to Freminet’s hair. She swept away with a swish of her cloak, only faltering as Freminet reached one tiny hand out to grab the end of her coat-tails and stop her from leaving.

The young boy made a displeased noise, raising up the penguin toy to her. The Knave’s face softened, a corner of her mouth turning upwards as she leaned down and kissed the top of the toy as well.

“Goodbye, Pers. Goodbye Freminet.” The Knave paused, eyes lingering on (Name)’s small form. “Goodbye, (Name). I truly hope you find yourself at home here.”

Once she had disappeared around the corner, he shifted away to face (Name), blinking at them with wide and watery eyes. He pulled the penguin toy up higher until it was resting right beneath his chin, looking at them with a tilt of his head. “We should… get going.”

Freminet wasn’t the talkative type, it seemed. He was content silently wandering a few feet in front of them, sneaking glances behind himself every so often to make sure they weren’t trailing behind. The penguin toy stayed resolutely in his grasp, tucked under one arm while he craned his neck to see around the corner of the hall.

Down the halls, through wide and yawning doors that almost reached the ceiling, across carpets that were more expensive than their entire life, they walked; a quiet anxiousness present in their steps. It wasn’t as if they feared the young boy in front of him—he looked like he would snap in two if he was ruffled by a light breeze—but the building itself was something that set their nerves on edge. Maybe it was the guards—posted at the beginning and end of the hallways—or just the way the Fatui themselves roamed the building. Cicin Mages with their hooded jackets and tiny flies buzzing lazily around their heads, Agents that prowled silently through the shadows, visible only with a slight glint of silver at their sides.

There were children too, the further they traversed inside the house. Young kids, from tiny toddlers to older adolescents, casually strolling through in small groups. The smaller ones clung to the older ones hands, while the smallest were carried by the others. They all chatted casually, ignoring the various Fatui stationed around their home, laughing and joking and playing like any ordinary siblings would.

It was surreal to see, the children acting so at ease with so much danger surrounding them. Freminet looked to be the only one who was nervous, but his fear seemed to be more directed at (Name) than anyone else.

“We’re here,” Freminet turned the handle of an ornate door emblazoned with the number 13. The doors along that wall were all decorated with similar gold lettering, as if the place was a hotel. “This is your dormitory. It’s empty, but if anyone new arrives you will have a roommate to share with.”

Roommate.

There was something warm coating their cheeks at hearing those words. How quickly they had gone from living with their loving family, surrounded by the comfortable knowledge that they would only be a few doors away. How could any ‘roommate’ even dream of replacing the people they’d lost? No roommate would have the same footsteps, or the same laugh, or the same way of organizing the room.  

Their precious familiarity was gone, stolen alongside their loved ones.

“O-Oh… you’re crying…” Freminet frowned, squeezing Pers. “A-Are you okay?”

“No!” They sniffed, the first word they’d spoken since the Knave had retrieved them.

“Oh dear…” He coughed into his hand awkwardly. “Do you want to go home? Is that it?”

“I don’t have a home,” They choked out through the tears. “N-Not anymore.”

“M-Me neither…” He swallowed, face scrunched up in a childish pout. His eyes looked far too grave for someone his age, already worn down with the sort of weariness that was meant for older folks who had already lived a long life. “All of us don’t have homes… that’s why we’re here. Father rescues us, and gives us a family.”

Freminet crept closer; slowly, like they were a skittish animal who would scuttle away if he moved too quickly.

“I can be your family,”

He was just a boy. Raised in a house filled with other lonely children like himself. Reaching out to one more, offering something more priceless than any material object.

“Okay.” They whispered. Freminet blinked owlishly at them.

“We’ll be family?” He asked, his tone an odd mix of surprise and hesitance.

“Yeah… we can be family.”

For the first time, a smile flashed across the young boy’s features. He held out his hand, one pinkie outstretched. “You have to pinkie promise.”

(Name) extended their hand to meet his, curling their littlest finger around his.

“Promise,” They whispered, feeling something like hope bloom in their chest.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin impact freminet x reader #genshin freminet x reader #freminet x reader #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #platonic freminet x reader

[drama--universe]

Masks & Truths

Requested by anonymous: Hello. I have a request, but it will be a bit long because I can't say or write anything quickly, I'm always specific: The Untamed's Request for Lan Xichen....

Pairing: Lan Xichen x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k words

A/N So... For this story I looked up a fake name and came across something very peculiar. Apparently, the name Meng means to deceive and thus Meng Yao's name was such an important clue for his real identity... So, props to the writer, although I might still be wrong since I don't talk/read Chinese and only got this from a website :/

You couldn't believe your father's words, not when he stated it like it was the most normal thing to say. Like it was normal for a father to tell his daughter that he'd disown her if she did not marry. Not only disown, but also exiled from the clan. You couldn't believe that your mother didn't refute, if anything she looked like she agreed with everything he said.

Now you didn't hate your fiancé, hating Lan Xichen was almost impossible for anyone. He was the sweetest, caring for anyone no matter who they were and he often protected those who had less than him. He was humble, did not care for possessions and rather give away his stuff than see an innocent person suffer to fate they did not deserve.

Still, you did not want to marry the man.

And so you left your home for awhile. Now you found yourself living in an inn with the Geji's (Chinese equivalent to Geisha's), working as a server like any other waitress. Your face was covered, a white mask that covered your full face with golden and red marks painted on. Your hanfu was pink and reds, a white undercoat. You looked like any other waitress, which was basically the point as it was required for safety. Although it was difficult at first, you quickly learned how to work there with help from others. You were happy here, you felt somewhat free even when you never had much free time. The woman around you, although most were older, treated you like a sister and you felt like you belonged. You got a family, one you wished you had before. You shouldn't have to find that family, you should've grown up with one and you just felt cheated in the fact that your family did not view it the same.

Then, one day, everything came crashing down at once. Why? Because Lan Xichen decided to come to the inn along with at least fifteen junior disciplines. Normally, you wouldn't care much and yet you couldn't help but be shocked at the sight before you. Bloody robes, large wounds and a few seemed at the brink of fainting. Lan Xichen seemed the most unharmed, only three or four cuts visible on his whole body. You rushed to them, helping one of the boys to sit down before turning to the elder.

"Please sit down, I will get you some help." You said and he nodded, thanking you softly before he turned to help his juniors while you rushed off to find your friend, Qi Xiang. She was a skilled healer, so she could surely help them. Once you told her what had happened, she was quick to grab her own mask before running to the front of the tea house. You followed her, placing yourself to the less hurt people and checking them while Xiang checked to more injured ones. You started with, what seemed to be, the youngest among the juniors. He had a very youthful face and a cute smile that melted your heart in second. He was helpful, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a deep cut and you hissed softly before grabbing some bandages and a needle and thread.

"I apologize for this." Then you put the needle to his skin and pushed it through, stitching the wound close as fast as you could. Then you wrapped it up in bandages, tight enough so that it wouldn't loosen too much after. Then you moved to the next junior. You ended with Xichen after an hour, but he wasn't harmed bad enough to need immediate help.

"Do you have any wounds?" You asked and Xichen shook his head before looking at the juniors surrounding him, thanking you softly. This was another time that you got to see him being caring to others, his gaze never moved from the most injured ones with a worried look. You looked at them as well before sighing, telling him that they were fine. This, however, didn't seem to make Xichen feel any better.

"May I ask your name?" "Lu Zhi." You were quick to answer him with a fake name, nodding your head at him in greeting before getting up.

"I will prepare rooms for you and your junior disciplines." You spoke, getting up and bowing at him before walking off without another word.

Xichen was up early, quick to check every room quietly to see the juniors. He walked through the hall, opening and closing each door silently until he reached the last. One of the youngest, a boy of barely 13 years old and gravely injured. When the door opened, he was surprised with seeing you besides the bed. Your back was turned to the door, your mask laid on the bedside table and you were clearly changing the younger's bandages. You were alerted of his presence when he stepped inside, one of your hands quickly grabbing your mask and securing it on your face.

"I apologize for disturbing you." Xichen's voice was soft and low, barely loud enough to hear as he entered the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring at his junior while you continued to treat him.

"Will he wake up soon?" "Give or take two days. He is mostly exhausted at this point, the injuries are already healed after all." You answered, putting on the last bandage on before laying a towel on his forehead. Then you got up and started to pack up your stuff, turning to Xichen after.

"Don't bother him too much, he really needs the rest." You said and Xichen nodded, following you out of the room. He walked downstairs, sitting down at one of the tables. You fetched some tea for him, setting it down on the table before sitting down as well and pouting the tea into two cups. One was pushed towards Xichen, who gladly took it.

"You really seem to care for those kids." "They're my responsibility, of course I care. Had I known of the bandits on that path, I would not have gone there." Xichen spoke, lifting the cup before him softly before raising it to his lips. He drank it quickly, putting it back on the table afterwards and pouring himself another one. You drank your own cup empty before looking back to the man before you, who looked immensely worried as he stared into his cup.

"You really don't have to worry, those kids are strong. They'll live." You gave him a reassuring smile, forgetting that you wore a mask and he couldn't see. He, however, still seemed to sense it as he nodded, sighing softly before downing the tea once more. You took the opportunity to leave, getting up from the table and bowing your head once more before leaving.

Once again, you could only learn to appreciate the man even more and maybe even like him just a bit.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Lan Jingyi asked loudly, making all heads turn to him and pausing their eating.

"I heard that lady (L/n) is a rare beauty." Another junior answered and you almost fell while putting the tea down on the table. It landed a bit harsher than intended, which made all eyes turn to you this time. Jingyi was quick to ask you the same and you waited with your answer. You could hardly say that she was beautiful, saying such things about yourself was a bit vain. Instead, you decided to answer based on the rumors you had hear about yourself.

"I heard she rather stays in the library than spend her time dressing up for others." You answered and Jingyi huffed, raising his food up to his mouth and eating it a bit too loud. Sizhui just thanked you for the food and thoughts, giving you another bright smile.

"We'll see later, Zewu-Jun said we'd go continue there tomorrow." Although Sizhui spoke quietly, you heard everything he said clearly and it made you freeze up. You didn't know that he was on his way to see you, your parents had neglected to tell you this. Which meant that you either needed to return and play into your parents' wishes or to not return an embarrass Xichen in front of his and your people. Neither one of those options sounded nice, you didn't want either to happen. Yet now, you didn't seem to have much of a choice. So you decided to do something in between. You returned to your room and started writing, scribbling every thought and feeling that you felt leading up to this moment. Then you slipped the three paper letter under the door of his room, your mask along with it before you ventured off.

One thing you didn't take in account, was that Xichen was a night owl when it came to his work. Thus he saw and read the letter immediatley after you left it, which made it able for him to run after you. Which he did, of course. He practically leaped off the stairs and out of the building, looking around for the person that wrote that letter to him. The red hanfu you wore stood out like a sore thumb and the fact that you were the only one on the street. So he followed you, quickly reaching your side and stopping you. You flinched, mainly because you had no clue who just grabbed you. When seeing him, however, you relaxed slightly before freezing.

"I apologize." Xichen quickly released you from his grip, but he remained quiet after as he just stared at you. Then he spoke again, asking you if you were in fact his fiancée. You nodded, which in turn made the man smile slightly as he took the bag you held from your hand.

"Seems like I don't have to go any further to meet you then." He said and you sighed, realizing that you couldn't really run away anymore.

"About what you said in the letter... I'm afraid we don't have much choice in marriage, but we can wait until you feel comfortable." He then said and you frowned at this statement, asking him if he was really okay with that. He just nodded at you, giving you another reassuring smile.

"I look forward to getting to know you a bit more in that time then."

#the untamed #the untamed x reader #the untamed lan xichen #the untamed lan xichen x reader #untamed #untamed x reader #untamed lan xichen #untamed lan xichen x reader #mdzs #mdzs x reader #mdzs xichen x reader #mdzs lan xichen #mdzs lan xichen x reader #mdzs xichen #lan xichen #lan xichen x reader #xichen #xichen x reader #reader insert #x reader #request

[bradshawsbitch]

winter blues | rhett abbott x gn!reader

my masterlist | my ko-fi

synopsis; rhett had never cared much for christmas. and it seemed that no one really cared for him. except perhaps you.

warnings; gender neutral reader, fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of old norms of raising boys, mentions of belt, ideations of toxic masculinity, repressed emotions, firearm mention (very brief), me once again somewhat waxing poetic about horses, l-bombs, mentions of christmas morning alone, rhett abbott wants love and he wants to be cherished okay

disclaimer; this can be read to be a part of the horsemanship universe, but there is no need to read that to get the ropes of this one.

word count; 2K. short n' sweet.

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

There were many things in life that passed by Rhett. Things that he shrugged off, things that he fought for, and things he simply let go. It had been long since he’d given up fighting for recognition or thanks for his actions, when it had dawned on him that those things were expected of him. Rhett was expected to wake up early on Christmas morning to feed the horses and check the cattle, because Perry had Amy. Perry had Amy, and Royal had Cecilia - meanwhile Rhett didn’t have anyone who needed his presence during those early morning hours. No one who cared if he was out in the bitter snow, making sure the animals were safe and fed. 

It had been like this for a few years now. For some reason, Royal had come to the conclusion that Rhett could shoulder more than his older brother could. Rhett was made of something sturdier, he let things go - he shrugged it off. Truth of the matter was that Rhett cared. He cared so much. Royal had noticed it when his son was younger, in the way his son cared so deeply for the animals - he’d cry if Royal had to put any of them down. Rhett would ask questions, he was curious and inquisitive as a youth. Full of life, and full of emotion. As a child Rhett had cried freely, and often - something that Royal could not quite comprehend nor completely accept.

Royal had made it his mission to toughen up his son. Make him ready for the harsh and rugged reality of the world around him, and he had done so with gusto. He’d usually only tell his son to bite the bullet, or shake him slightly if that didn’t work - and only when Rhett was little would he ever use the belt on him to make him understand.

In Royals’ eyes he’d done Rhett a favor. He’d prepared him for taking on the responsibilities of being a man. In Rhett’s eyes, he’d been muted almost - thrown aside and been branded as ‘useless’ unless he proved his worth through strength and stoic bravery. 

Rhett had shouldered the responsibilities his father had deemed him strong enough to bear. He’d protect his brother, he would protect his niece, his father, his mother - anyone, really. He would do it in a heartbeat if he felt it necessary, and he wouldn’t ask for much back.

Furrowed brows almost disappeared beneath the brim of his hat as he stood by his red mare, her soft neigh and snorts of appreciation enough to bring a smile to his face. His father had once threatened to put the mare down if he didn’t stop crying. That was the only time Rhett had told his father to 'fuck off' before vibrating with anger and storming off so he didn't get physical with his father. 

His long fingers smoothed over the neck of the mares thick winter coat, his fingers almost disappearing from view in the soft red. Cayenne turned her head towards Rhett, letting her muzzle rest against his stomach as she exhaled loudly. The sound made Rhett smile, reaching up to scratch softly behind her fluffy ear. 

“I like you too, sweets,” he murmured softly. The mare had almost finished up her breakfast, and the other horses were chewing peacefully in the stalls around them. It was still pitch black out at this early hour, and Rhett had begrudgingly pelted on layers of clothing to keep himself warm as he hauled bales of hay into the barn. Perry was supposed to have done it yesterday, but Rhett was never surprised anymore when it wasn’t done. Just another thing to let go and let pass by. 

Giving his mare a quick brush, with only one temper tantrum from her side, Rhett swiftly made sure the thick blanket under her saddle was comfortable for her before saddling and gently warming the bit of the bridle in his hands before slowly easing it into her mouth. 

“C’mon, Cay, time to make sure the others are doing alright out on the pastures,” Rhett mumbled softly, leading the mare out of the stables and hauling himself into the comfortable seat of the saddle.

Quickly adjusting the reins, and his thick jacket, he gently smacked his lips to make Cayenne set off in a brisk walk to warm her up. An electric lantern hung from her saddle on the one side, and Rhett held another in his hand on the opposite side - raising it every once in a while to see clearer. 

Suddenly, Rhett’s mare came to a halt, her head held high as her ears clipped nervously, before focusing on being pointed straight ahead. A millisecond of fear rushed through Rhett, and his spine straightened subconsciously to ready himself to be bucked off should Cayenne spook. It was cold out, and he knew any old horse could get fresh in the winter cold - but Cayenne even more so. 

“What do you see, girl?” Rhett grumbled out loud, squinting into the distance to try to catch sight of what his mare had already seen. There, in the distance, a soft red light could be seen dancing against the treeline in the darkness of the morning.

Rhett knew his father had let some crazy girl stay on one of the pastures during the summer, but surely it wasn’t this pasture. Rhett couldn’t help the annoyed sigh that tumbled from his lips as he spurred Cayenne on, wondering briefly if he made a mistake in leaving their firearms at home. No, he figured he was a fair enough talker to be able to manage should things get hostile. 

As he neared the figure by the fire, he squinted to try to see any features in the dark. Cayenne let out a welcoming neigh into the silence, which was answered by the buckskin that Rhett had missed. A very familiar buckskin… a smile began to play on his lips as he urged Cayenne to go faster the last bit. 

“Sunshine,” Rhett breathed out, his small smile having turned into a surprised grin. You were sat by a small fire, a tonne of blankets around you and beside you, a thermos laying beside you and a steaming cup held between your hands as the light of the fire danced over your features. You looked beautiful. 

“Hey there cowboy,” you replied, small smile and heavenly voice welcoming him into the warmth. “I’ve checked the cattle for you. Made sure they had enough to eat and drink,” gesturing to the spot beside you, you continued softly “Come. You must be cold. I brought us some breakfast,” the softness of your voice, paired with the look in your eyes had Rhett weak in his knees as he swung his leg over his mares back, to land on the frozen solid ground with a wince. 

“What are you doing out here in the cold, sweetheart?” Rhett murmured as he sat close to you, his jean clad thigh brushing against yours as you draped your thick blanket around his shoulder. As your arm was slung over his back, you stole a chaste kiss from his cold lips, making his already red cheeks even more flushed. 

“Figured you’d be the one to tend the animals today,” you said, a small, sad smile on your lips. It wasn’t pity that swirled in your eyes, but a look of devotion and admiration. A look that took Rhetts’ breath away. 

“And I didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas morning,” you continued, gaze flitting down to the fire you had started some time ago. “I missed you,” your soft whisper almost echoed through the mountains, shaking Rhett to his core.

Every time you confessed any of these feelings towards him, it took everything in him not to let tears seep from his eyes. It was almost overwhelming how freely you shared your love for him, with him. It made him dizzy to think that someone could care as deeply as he cared. 

Rhett inhaled a shaky breath, tilting the hat that was set firmly on his head a little back before burying his face into the warm patch of skin that was exposed at your neck. Tears were burning in his eyes, and he didn’t want you to see him cry.

Cry because you loved him. Cry because you cared enough to meet him out there, when he hadn’t even asked - when he never expected you to. Cry because you were the only one who he felt truly appreciated him as he was. 

“Oh, Rhett… baby,” you murmured, your hand finding the hairs at the nape of his neck, curling your fingers around the soft strands. 

“Merry Christmas, my love… even though I would hate to see you cry, you have to remember that it’s always okay to let go with me. I can carry some of it, too,” you whispered softly in his ear as you sat in a close embrace.

The words made Rhett inhale sharply, before the tears that burned in his eyes slowly rolled down his cheeks. He felt shame burning in the pit of his stomach, and the urge to clear his throat and bottle it up was so strong - but he knew he couldn’t anymore. He couldn’t shrug it off. He needed to let himself feel, and you had time and time again proved that you thought the world of him when he did. 

Some time went by, you holding him as the weight seemed to roll off his shoulders - years of tension suddenly easing out of his body - almost as if it leaked out of his ocean eyes. After a small hiccup, Rhett sat up to gaze into your eyes, a sheepish smile adorning his handsome face. 

“There he is,” you murmured fondly, reaching out to softly swipe away the remainder of the wet tears that lingered on his cheeks. 

“Merry Christmas, sunshine… you have no idea how much all of this means to me,” he confessed, looking at the effort you had made to meet him so early that the sun hadn’t yet managed to permeate the horizon. You smiled softly, reaching over to the weaved basket on your side, pulling out the breakfast you had prepared, along with some pastries you had spent yesterday evening baking for the two of you to enjoy. 

“You mean the world to me, Rhett. It’s as easy as that,” you smiled, offering him a steaming cup of hot cocoa. The two of you sat in silence for a while, before you leant closer to him, relishing in the way you could feel his sturdy chest through all of his clothing. His lips pressed against the top of your head, and you could feel as he inhaled your scent, further relaxing into your embrace. 

Tilting your head up, you softly nudged at his jawline with your nose, a soft noise between a whine and a hum vibrating in your throat. Rhett tilted his face towards you, and his soft smile could barely be seen before his slips connected with yours in a deep kiss - his free hand gently cupping the side of your face before it traveled to rest in your hair and on your neck.

“God, I love you,” Rhett groaned between kisses, his words rolling onto yours as he took your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling softly as a breathy whine left you. His tongue softly caressed your own before he leant his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he continued breathlessly

“I can’t wait until I can have a home with you. I’ll love you so good. Take care of you, I promise… I promise I’ll cherish you every day,” the end of the sentence almost came out pleading, as if he was scared you would disappear if he uttered his vulnerable words.

It only made your heart swell, as tears burned in your eyes now, a happy smile on your face as you rested your hand against his cheek as the light of the fire illuminated and danced over his handsome features. 

“I can’t wait to share my life with you, either. You always take good care of me, Rhett. Always make me feel so safe and loved,” the end of your sentence was accentuated with the soft kiss you pressed to his lips. 

Rhett smiled, and as the two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, waiting for the fire to burn out and pack the Christmas morning breakfast up, he figured this was probably the best Christmas he could ever remember having.

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

eek!! hope you liked this little short one! please let me know what you thought?<3

tagging people who might like; @lt-bradshaw @rhettabbotts @rassvetsky @roleycoleyland @theharddeck @sebsxphia @floyd-luvr @mothdruid @hangmanapologist

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott #my writing #rhett abbott fluff

[sassykattery]

Losses and Gains, Pt. 4

Welcome back. What's next?

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns. MC is a demon and poly. *Smut scene: romance-centered sex, daddy dom dynamics, use of gendered terms i.e. good girl, princess, fingering, creampie

Themes: Romance. DiavoloxMC. Sex.

Characters: Diavolo, MC, mention Barbatos.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Enjoy

"And this..." Diavolo said, grabbing the doorhandle and then swinging the door ahead of you two open, "Is your bedroom."

Once inside, you gasped. It was beautiful. Every furnishing and item was that of high luxury, between the satin sheets on the bed to the furniture engraved with gold ornate markings. The color scheme of the room was... somehow perfect to you.

"What do you think?" Diavolo asked quietly, watching your reaction as you walked around the room.

"It's perfect," you stated. "I... like it very much." Immediately, the desk in the corner under a window got your attention, and you walked over to it to see several books and a notepad out. You read the notes, realizing it was your own writing. They consisted of things of finances, law, etiquette, and what seemed to be historical facts.

"What was I studying?" You asked, inferring from the things you found on the desk.

"Well, you are a student at RAD, as you were told, but you were also learning how to be a royal to..." he trailed off for a moment. "To become queen."

Your head snapped up, looking at Diavolo. "Oh," is all you could say. You realized that indeed, if you were betrothed to the prince, it would make sense to be a royal as well. Putting everything back, you looked around again, and then finally sat at the foot of your bed.

"What are you thinking about?" Diavolo asked, joining you and sitting directly next to you.

"It's just a lot to take in. It's rather... fantastical to think I would be a demon for one, and then the idea of becoming a queen for two. It's like a fairytale," you said, looking at the floor.

"I see," you heard Diavolo say, sounding disappointed.

You drug your gaze up to him again, and he looked back at you.

"I'm sorry that I'm not who you want me to be," you said abruptly.

Diavolo looked at you in confusion.

"I can tell, this entire time, you've been watching me, waiting for me to remember everything, or just something, and it just seems like you're constantly disappointed by me," you explained.

"I apologize. You are right, I've been in my head about the entire situation. But that doesn't give me the right to take it out on you, so please, I ask that you forgive me," he said sincerely, taking your hands into his. "I promise we will fix this, we're just not sure how yet."

"What if... what if I never get my memory back?" You asked quietly.

Diavolo paused for a moment, having not let himself have the moment to even consider the possibility.

Diplomatic as ever, he replied, "We'll work it out when we reach that point. For now, we're doing our best to make you comfortable and try to give you some normalcy."

You had an idea, "Can... I ask you some questions? To get to know you better?"

Diavolo smiled and nodded. You scooted yourself back, settling onto the bed, and he followed your lead, lying next to you, shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Go on," he encouraged.

"You said I was the best friend you never had, what did you mean by that?"

"Ah... You see, I lived a rather lonely and isolated childhood. I didn't have siblings like Lucifer and his brothers. My mother died after I was born, and my father was rather strict during my youth and became more and more absent as I grew up. I didn't have any friends until Barbatos came along," Diavolo replied.

"That's... so sad," you said immediately.

"But when I have you, it's the most fulfilling thing to me. Just to be in your presence makes me feel surrounded in love," he said rather sweetly, turning his head to look at you. You couldn't help but smile and nod.

"Alright. What made you like me? Or why are you attracted to me?" You asked.

"Hmm, there's so many things, it might be a while," Diavolo teased. "What made me like you was how even in the faces of torment and turmoil, you always put on a brave face, even if it was painful. I respect you a lot for that. You're also incredibly kind and charming to everyone you meet, and you don't even have to try. I also love how playful you are with me," he stated. "As for being attracted to you, the moment you were summoned to the Devildom, I was smitten by you, but I didn't want to complicate things or make you feel like you had to say yes to me just because of my position. I never wanted to disrespect your boundaries."

He then rolled to his side and looked down at you as he propped himself up on one elbow. "I always thought you were incredibly sexy. It's hard for me to keep my eyes off of you. I'm fairly certain everyone but you could see how much I burned for you when you were nearby," he murmured.

Your breath hitched, and suddenly you were drowning in desire.

"I-I'll admit, when I saw you last night, I was... rather happy to hear you're my fiancé. I thought you were very handsome..." you stated.

Diavolo gave you a coy smile and raised one brow. "Is that right? That's good to hear," he purred.

"Forgive me if this is forward... but... what all have we, um, done?"

"How do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, well– I mean– I just– Oh hell, this is stupid," you muttered. In a quick motion, you rolled onto your side and planted your lips on his, swinging a leg over his hip.

Instantly, he grabbed your leg and pulled you closer, and his arm wriggled under you to pull the rest of your body to his. All of a sudden, you felt very warm, and you realized he was also warm. Your hands curled into his lapel, fighting the urge to go wild. At the same time, your tongue, as well as his, lashed out at one another, deepening the kiss.

I told myself I wasn't going to do this, Diavolo thought to himself.

After several minutes of trying to swallow each other, he pulled away first. "Oh, I see. Yes, we've done that, many times," Diavolo replied, smirking at you.

"Would you mind showing me what it was like?" You murmured, staring at the button of his jacket that you fiddled with as you fought to get your breathing under control. His hand went up to your chin to lift it, so you'd look at him.

But if that's what she wants...

"Is that what you want?"

With a look that only resembled desire and desperation, you nodded.

Then fuck it.

*He pulled you into his embrace and kissed you again. Gently, he pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips, unbuttoning and unbuckling his coat, tossing it aside.

The prince had your pure and undivided attention. He moved with grace, and you couldn't help but feel small beneath him. He stared you down as he loosened his tie, and your eyes shot to his large hands with long, slender fingers. When he unbuttoned his shirt, you watched with equal fascination, and the more he revealed, the more you salivated over him.

"That hasn't changed. You're looking at me as if you'd devour me," he commented on your trance-like state.

"I might," you whispered. He chuckled and continued until he completely bared his upper body to you. Sitting back up on one elbow, you reached up and let your hand run over his chest and abs. Your gaze flickered upward to his eyes, and he watched you with equal curiosity. Timidly, your hand rested on his slacks, pausing for a silent question.

"Go on," he encouraged you.

You unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, and then let your fingers trace over the outline of his hardened member over the fabric, causing him to hiss quietly.

He leaned over and placed a hungry kiss on your lips, his hand roaming your body over your own clothes. Rolling off of you, he positioned himself next to you so you could sit up, and he helped you out of your blouse and bra, tossing them aside. Laying back down, he worked the rest of your clothes off, sending his slacks and underwear along with them into the same heap on the floor.

Once you two were completely naked, you ogled at his body above you. He was so large, muscular, and broad. It took several seconds for your brain to start registering the real world again, and immediately, without hesitation, your eyes flicked downward to find his heavy and hard cock twitching near your thigh. Just like the rest of the demon above you, it was large, but you couldn't help but be even more aroused.

Blinking a few times and collecting yourself, you looked up. "Sorry for staring," you said quietly. "I just... how'd I get so lucky?"

"It's endearing," Diavolo replied warmly. "Though, I'd argue I'm the luckiest being in all three realms to have you as my own." He lowered himself down onto you, and instinctively, you brought your thighs up around his hips. He planted a soft kiss on your lips while you carded your hands through his rusty locks to keep him close.

"You wanted to know what it was like," he started to say in a low voice, "But I must tell you, it was rarely ever the same."

He began kissing your neck as he grabbed a hold of your waist. Continuing, he murmured against your flesh, "Sometimes it was sweet, full of whispers of love and promises of eternity." His teeth then sunk into your skin, not enough to pierce the flesh, but enough to cause you to jump and gasp. "Other times, we got a little rough. I loved hearing you call me daddy, begging for me to please you."

Pulling away, Diavolo looked down at you again. "But no matter what, making love to you is something I consider to be sacred, and I take a lot of pride in it," he said to you in a low whisper.

Your voice got caught in your throat, and your eyes went wide. The echo of a foreign thought bounced in your mind, one that didn't feel like your own, but you realized it was a far-away memory.

You know I can never tell you no.

Finally swallowing, you said, "You know I can never tell you no."

It was Diavolo's turn to widen his eyes in shock. "Darling," he whispered.

"That was something you said, yes? I heard it in your voice in my mind just now," you stated. A smile threatened to grace his lips, and he suddenly wrapped himself around you, holding you very tightly against him.

"I did. You remembered," he whispered.

"I-I'm sorry..." you whispered. "That's all I remember, but I'm glad I do."

"That's alright, it's a start," he replied before feverishly kissing you. Hearing how happy he was enough to spark fires of delight and wonder in you, seeking to know more.

"Diavolo," you whispered, his name foreign but now delicious on your lips.

"Tell me what you want," he ordered.

"Show me how you make love to me," you said.

Leaning onto one side, his now free hand slipped down to your sex, gently cupping it, palming over it lightly. A tiny moan escaped your lips and your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed a finger into your folds, finding your clit.

"Eyes on me princess," he commanded in a hushed tone, and you opened your eyes again, staring into his golden irises. A small smile crossed his lips as he said, "Good girl."

His finger rubbed over your clit, massaging and encircling it, much to your body's delight. Your hips subtly bucked into his touched as you continued to quietly moan. When his finger slipped down, you gave him a rather pouty look. He smirked at you and used his thumb to continue his ministrations as he gently slid a finger into your entrance.

"Ahh- oh!" You said, somewhat surprised. "Ahh ha, that feels– oh," you tried to say in a quiet, breathy voice.

"I know you can be louder than that, my love. Let me hear you," he called to you. A burning flush dusted your face, neck, and chest, but you nodded.

Very slowly, he pumped his finger in and out of you, stroking your walls deliciously.

"Ohh, oh Diavolo," you moaned out. He added another finger, still stroking you at a slow pace, leisurely delivering sweet pleasure to you. He merely smirked down at you, watching your reactions to his movements.

"I-I need you closer," you grumbled. He leaned in closer per your request, still holding his head above you to watch your face. When he pressed his thumb into your clit, the pressure drove you to squirm around, tensing up. Easing up the pressure, he went back to thumbing your swollen bud as your slick desire coated his hand and your thighs.

"Dia– I-I need..." You trailed off, your breath hitching as your climax drifted closer and closer.

"Talk to me, baby, what is it?" he purred.

In a whisper, you craned your neck to his ear, "I need more of you. I want your cock inside me. I want to feel all of you."

When you relaxed back, his gaze was so full of want, need, desire, lust, love. He was desperate to hear those words from you.

Slowly, he removed his hand from your core and brought himself to lie on top of you. You parted your legs wide for him and brought your thighs around his hips as he settled on you. Both of you intertwined with each other, his hands taking your legs to further wrap around him, and then sinking underneath your back to keep you as close as possible. With little effort, his hips tilted up and the head of his cock nudged into your entrance.

Your eyes widened, and he saw the nervous look on your face.

"You can tell me to stop if you want," he whispered. "Please don't be afraid to say anything." You nodded and tried to relax again.

"Keep going," you whispered back.

With your consent, he sunk his hips down to yours, his cock gliding right into your soft and wet cunt. Both of you moaned in mutual enjoyment, also much to your mutual delight in one another.

"Y-You... oh my–" you tried to say, gasping as he was still sliding into you. "You feel really good," you finally said breathlessly.

"Mm, so do you," he replied in a sultry tone. He leaned his head down to kiss you, your needy lips deepening the kiss as you sought to get more. His member hit a sweet spot in you, and you moaned into his mouth and took his bottom lip in your teeth, gently biting. When you released it, he pulled his neck back to look at you.

"Does that feel good?" He asked with a small smile. You nodded eagerly and rested your hands on his shoulders, hanging on for whatever ride he was about to take you on. He stilled for a moment, letting you both feel one another, savoring how your drenched walls hugged his cock so well, and you with how perfectly filled up you felt with his warm throbbing cock inside.

Your chest started to feel heavy, and a pooling heat built up inside your abdomen the longer you two stayed that way, and finally you whimpered, "Daddy."

Diavolo's gaze darkened at that name, that sweet, sweet name. "Yes, my little love?" He cooed back, his chest vibrating against yours as he spoke.

"Please, I want more, daddy," you pleaded pitifully.

"I can't say no to you," he replied, and he hungrily kissed you again as he withdrew, but only about halfway, before easing back into you. The drag of his cock against your clenching walls nearly sent you overboard, and it was all you could do to quietly sob at how good it felt.

He stayed at that pace for a while, just slowly building up both of your pleasure with his relaxed thrusts. Fiery kisses were placed along your jaw, neck, and chest, decorating you in plumes of red as he marked you gently. Your chorus of moans filled the room, singing out your blissful enjoyment of this demon above you.

The angle of his thrusts just barely changed, and he started pressing into that spongey, soft button, and all too quickly, that build-up of pleasure started to stack up, and tears threatened to fall at the corners of your eyes from how intense it felt.

"D-Diav– I– Oh..." You mewled. "I'm going to– I can't–" you tried to say, but the pressure was building, and all you could think about was that knot that was tightening in rapid steps, your breathing becoming labored.

"That's it, you're so close. I want you to cum, princess, cum for me," he purred, finally increasing the rate of his thrusts. You squirmed beneath him, and your core tightened around his cock.

Quickly, your words just became nonsensical babbles, panting as your internal knot just kept tightening, not letting you topple over the edge of immeasurable pleasure. He grunted as his own pleasure started to peak, pushing him to thrust faster, to give you all he had. The sounds of your moans, skin slapping as his hips met yours, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall, it all made for such an erotic symphony of noises, he just needed to hear one more thing.

"Please, my love, cum with me," he moaned to you. His rhythm was lost as he slammed a few hard thrusts into you, and that's when you finally let loose, your coils breaking, and the floods of your heated euphoria encased every nerve in your body.

"Ahh! Daddy!" you wailed as you came fully apart beneath him, seeing the entire cosmos when your eyes screwed shut.

"Fuck– MC," he moaned as he found his release, tightening his hold on you. He sank himself fully into you as his cock throbbed, releasing his hot cum deep into you. Your warm juices ran out, flowing over his cock and seeping out of you.

*You buried your face into his neck as you trembled, trying to come down from the high. The little whimpers escaping your lips were getting quieter, and your grip on his shoulders eased up. And he simply just held you, giving you as much time as you needed.

After a few minutes, you finally went limp and released your hold on Diavolo. Carefully, he untangled himself from you and proceeded to clean you up. He disappeared for a few minutes to do the same for himself, returning to you in the position he left you in, spread out on his bed, eyes closed. He crawled back in beside you and pulled you into his embrace. You snuggled up into his naked body, embracing the heat he provided.

"I love you," he muttered into the top of your head. "I know you don't remember and you don't have to say it, but I simply had to tell you."

You simply brought your hand up over your head to caress his cheek in silent reply. It went without saying, you could tell this demon loved you very much, and it nearly broke your heart to know you couldn't say it back, but you hoped eventually you could.

Feeling exhaustion take hold from everything that happened, even though it was barely midmorning, your body relaxed and you drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

---

Starting next week, uploads will be on Wednesdays [North America time, Thursdays out further east]

Thanks for reading! <3

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags:

@delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @itsmeninerz @themythicaldisaster @flemmingbamse @marvelous-maniac @dajitm @bontensbabygirl @obeymediasimp @frozengoldie

#obey me #obey me shall we date #sassywrites #sassystories #obey me fanfic #love-eternal #obey me diavolo #obey me smut #diavolo smut #diavolo x femreader

[stillwintering]

ACOTAR should be told as a modern political drama

The backstory:

Rhys is practically American political royalty. His father served 5 terms in the US Senate before his death. His grandfather had been a beloved governor. It was always expected of him to go into politics as well and run for office. Rhys' mother instead steered him towards the military (his parents had a tumultuous relationship and she didn't want him to be corrupted by politics before he found his moral compass and self-discipline -- Rhys had a wild and overly privileged youth). His father only agreed because having military experience is always good for running for political office later on in life.

Rhys meets Cassian and Azriel in college in ROTC. Rhys did not want to be there. Cassian grew up being passed from one foster home to another. It was through sheer determination and will that he was able to secure an ROTC scholarship to an elite college. Az grew up in a wealthy but neglectful home (he hated his parents who were abusive). He fell into ROTC because he wanted the comradery. The 3 of them became the bestest of friends, though they, of course, hated each other at first. After college, they enlisted together.

After serving 3 tours in the Middle East, Rhys returned home with PTSD. He meets Feyre around this time, and they quickly fall in love. They elope, much to Rhys' family's dismay (no prenup, the horror) but their elopement was attended by only the people Rhys and Feyre loved. Rhys wasn't sure he wanted to return to the military, but his relationship with Feyre made him realize that he wanted to make this world a better place for both her and their future children (around this time, Rhys mother and sister died in a horrific terror attack, and this also solidifies his determination to run for public office). He enters politics and becomes a congressman.

When we meet Rhys (this is where the story starts), he is contemplating a run for president. He had recruited his best friends (and blood brothers) to be on his campaign. Both Az and Cassian had stayed in the military after Rhys left. Cassian was a Colonel (he was on track to be promoted to Brigadier General). Az was working on military intelligence. Rhys needed people he trusted and they both said yes to help him.

The rest of the inner circle:

Amren - a political veteran, both feared and respected by everyone in Washington. She has successfully led countless successful national campaigns now. She helped Rhys with his first run as a freshman congressman and stayed on as his chief of staff. She is now his campaign manager. After Rhys and Feyre, Amren calls the shots.

Mor - Rhys recruits his cousin as his head of fundraising. Mor is blue-blooded as they come. She grew up in the same elite circles as Rhys, but unlike Rhys, she knows how to manipulate the power-hungry people around them (Rhys never had any patience with the aristocratic people they grew up with). Mor attended galas and state dinners all her life, and she knows everyone who is anyone. She was a political animal with a killer instinct.

Az - head of opposition research. His years in army intelligence have given him a vast network of contacts throughout Washington and in many foreign governments. Az knows everyone's dirty secrets and understands how filthy the political game is played better than anyone. Az has horrific scars on his hands and forearms from an injury he incurred when he was held as a prisoner of war for 6 months (Rhys and Cassian raized a town to the ground to get him back but Az never told them what happened and they don't ask).

Cassian - well, he doesn't know how he fits into Rhys' campaign, only that Rhys needed a deputy that he could trust completely. Cassian didn't hesitate when Rhys called - because Cassian knew Rhys would make a great president, because Cassian believed that Rhys could make the world a better place. Cassian doesn't understand politics the way the others do, but he is smart and capable. He knew he had to learn this job, quickly, on his feet.

(Rhys needs Cassian because Cassian is his moral compass - Cassian will always tell him if he has gone too far, or crossed a line, like he has always done for him even in their days as college kids. Cassian is fundamentally good in a way that Rhys knows he is not and knows he must be reminded of every day.)

Feyre is the heart of the campaign. She is the soft power behind Rhys' hard power. Feyre loves Rhys unconditionally and she would do anything to help him realize their dream of a better world.

Feyre knows someone is missing from their inner circle. She knows exactly who to call: Nesta, her estranged sister.

Nesta had made a name for herself as a writer and political commentator (she wrote a searing profile of the British Prime Minister for The New Yorker that was credited for making him lose the next election). When we meet her, Nesta is in the middle of working on a book - she has signed a big book contract but has not delivered a chapter yet. Her editor is hounding her constantly. Feyre wants Nesta to join the campaign as communication director since she has all the media contacts. Nesta couldn't turn down a front-row seat to one of the most compelling political stories of the year: a promising young US congressman with a dream running a long-shot campaign for president.

Nesta reluctantly joins Rhys campaign. She doesn't like Rhys at first and is constantly challenging him and his leadership. She is not sure if Rhys will make a good president (she will come around later though). Nesta is trying to figure out the dynamic of the inner circle as she works (but also because she wants to write a book about them).

The one person who infuriates her to no end is Cassian - everything from his stupid hair to his swaggering muscles. Amren keeps putting them together on projects (at one point, they go to Iowa together to set up a field office and end up sharing a hotel room because this has to be a romcom after all). Cassian finds Nesta equally exasperating but he also recognizes immediately that he is in deep trouble (at one point, Cassian ropes Nesta into training for a half marathon and Nesta cannot stop staring at his chest and Cassian cannot stop thinking about the way her cheeks flush and how she pants at the end of the workout).

Of course, Cassian and Nesta fall in love. That's going to be the story to tell.

Should I write this or what?

#cassian #modern au #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #acosf #nesta #a court of silver flames #azriel #fanfic #headcanon #nessian #story ideas #slow burn #enemies to lovers

[jainaism]

"Anduin has had a difficult time of it," Jaina said, her voice thick. She cleared it and resumed. "But Bolvar was not his father. You are, and I know he's glad to have you back. But — "

"But he wants his father back, not Lo'Gosh. Completely understandable. But Jaina… sometimes I'm not sure where one ends and the other begins. I… do not like having the boy around, living with me, while I try to determine this."

"I've been thinking the same thing. And I have an idea…."

*************

He laughed at the display. "I forgot. Just the tea, then. Oh, and some bread and honey. And some cheese, Dalaran sharp. And a couple of apples." Jaina was touched. Anduin had remembered apples and cheese were Jaina's favorite snack. "Thank you."

Jaina hid her smile. Definitely a growing boy. Once Wyll had left, Anduin obeyed her earlier request, settling himself comfortably on the bed, regarding her with those bright blue eyes that saw more than adults suspected.

"There, that's better. I've not come to lecture you or to apologize for your father," Jaina continued. "I've come to give you an opportunity for a little fun, if you like."

He raised a golden eyebrow at that. "Oh? Fun?" He pronounced the word with exaggerated awkwardness. "What, pray tell, is that?"

"Something you need more of. Your father is upset that you had to see that. He and I talked for a bit, and we both decided that you might like to have the chance to get away from things from time to time."

He eyed her curiously. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"How would you like to come visit me at Theramore?" Anduin had been to Theramore once, during a terrible storm, to attend peace talks that had been violently disrupted. She hoped to change his association of the place to a more positive one.

But Anduin apparently had the resiliency of youth, for instead of looking unhappy, he brightened. "Visit the frontier again? I'd like that very much! I didn't get to see very much of it at all. Is there any dragon fighting going on?"

"Hardly any at all," Jaina said with a mock sigh. "But I'm sure there is some trouble a thirteen - year - old boy can get into."

"Thirteen and a half, almost" Anduin admonished her in all seriousness.

"I stand corrected."

"But… it's a very long journey."

"Not for magi."

"Well, no, of course not, I didn't mean for you, Aunt Jaina, I meant for me."

She smiled at him. "I've got a little something that might make traveling a bit easier." She fished in the pouch clipped to her belt and came out with a small oval crystal covered with soft blue runes. "Here. Catch!"

Jaina tossed it to Anduin, who caught it easily. "It's pretty," he said, examining it and tracing the runes with his fingers.

"Pretty, and rather rare. Hold it lightly for now. Don't close your fingers over it. Recognize the runes?"

He peered at it. "It has your name and the word… 'Home,'" he said.

"That's right. I see you've been keeping up with your studies. I had this created just for you. Even before… today… I had thought that you might enjoy coming to visit your old Auntie Jaina."

He scowled at her, brushing a lock of blond hair off his face. 'You're not old," he said.

"And you've been keeping up with your diplomacy, too," she said, grinning. "But yes. It's called a hearthstone." "But the rune means 'home." - The Shattering

#jaina proudmoore #world of warcraft #warcraft #jaina #jaina proudmoore daily #wow #anduin wrynn #anduin #jaina and anduin

[bookishjules]

Hi Jules,

Saw your post about RWBY. I have seen up through V8. PLEASE tell me all your hot takes. (If they’re anything like your sohae analyses then they’re going to be immaculate). <3

omg welcome to the list of followers i know watch rwby!! (it's a small list, but it's also one of my favorites hehe) idk that i have any esp hot takes?? but i'd love to talk about something that's been on my mind a lot recently..?

that thing is the schnee family... i personally am a huge sucker for the mechanics and evolution of family dynamics and how each individual functions within and outside of it. and aside from the belladonnas, whose family web has a third of individual relationships as the schnees, weiss's family is really the only one we get the privy of seeing in totality?? which i think is really interesting considering they are also the most public family of any of our mcs--even pyrrha, who was more known for her own name than her family's.. but i digress.

so much of the character of the schnee family really is based around that public persona, the facade they each present to the world. while we aren't very familiar with the former heads of the family, or of the sdc, i'm still inclined to believe a lot of this attitude was brought to the family by jacques, who has been acting since day one. he acted like he was in love. he donned the schnee name. he dyed his hair white. he swept willow aside, took her family's legacy from her, and then spent the rest of his life pretending like he deserved to be where he was and manipulating people into playing along. and of course behind every facade is something worth hiding. for jacques i think there was a lot of insecurity and fear there--youthful desperation that he was never quite able to move past because of his choice to take the cheater's way to the top.

willow, on the other hand, seems to move through life with a lot more vulnerability--loving jacques. loving their children. i'm sure there's probably an amount of safety and security growing up as a schnee heiress that resulted in her never having to form that shell that jacques did, but that's exactly why he was able to get into the power position in their relationship, and making it so she just gave up when jacques showed his cards to her, bc she didn't have anything up her sleeves.

and i think its really interesting to consider the kids growing up in this climate.. each of them learning in their own ways what parts of themselves to control and diminish vs. which strengths were valuable to play to. even with both winter and weiss stepping out from their father's control, the effects of their upbringing still follows them. they saw the powerless position their mom was reduced to because she didn't demand respect the way their father did, she didn't walk into a room with the air of the most important person in it, at least not within the confines of their family--because why would she? meanwhile, jacques, who viewed their relationship as nothing more than a stepping stool, a business transaction, would have maintained that facade and that attitude no matter how intimate the setting. and of course both girls would notice and internalize that at a young age. we see it in weiss, especially during the beacon arc. and even winter's choice to become a soldier, and then her ability to move herself up to the top of ironwood's ranks... they wanted to escape the pressure of their father's thumb, but they just carried his lessons with them, adapting them to their own lives. school and the army. and then that's something they need to unlearn. or rather.. they need to learn to tap into the heart they inherited from their mom as well, to fight against the fear of weakness and collapse that they associate with softness. it's in much of weiss's arc throughout the series, and we see it in winter as well as we reach the end of the 8th volume and she's struggling between her personal beliefs and ironwood's as he continues to devolve. without the rules and control that ironwood brought, winter is then forced to tap into her heart.

whitley on the other hand... whitley fascinates me. since he was younger than both his sisters, he would have had less time to see their mom as her genuine self before she lost herself to depression, paranoia, and alcoholism. for whitley, the only option was to be like his father, which only makes it harder for him to see the distinction between who he is and the controlled front he presents to others. his relationship with weiss, his small bits of character development we've seen so far, are so important to me, because it really shows the possibility for all three of these kids to grow beyond the trauma that perpetuated within the walls of their icy mansion. even down to the one who suffered the worst of it all by himself. willow once told weiss not to forget about her brother, so i refuse to stop projecting hope in his direction.

#sorry that was probably so much longer than you wanted. their family just makes my brain go brrrr #the way i could probably write almost as long a post about each of the kids too sadkhfjls #your username-icon combo is incredible btw. i get such a kick out of it every time i see you in my notes hehe #<33 #asks #rwby #weiss schnee #winter schnee #whitley schnee #willow schnee #jacques schnee

[feathers-blown-in-the-wind]

Passion : S5 ep 7

The Adrien subplot

Passion qualifies into the very restricted category of Adrien-centric episodes and boy does it do it well.

Adrien's subplot at the beginning seems to be about his crush : he wakes up thinking of Marinette, he draws her on his mirror, he throws himself against a wall and sighs her name dreamily... One thing is clear : this boy is down, and when he is down he is down bad.

Cue the breakfast scene where we first see Adrien hang out with his father, ever probably. I'm not gonna focus on it too much since most of it is Gabenath-centered but

Adrien's relationship with his father is still quite strained and it's clear he doesn't really know how to act. He says yes to the banana despite clearly not wanting it (which is later confirmed by Nathalie) and overall seems very eager to make sure his father has no reason to be displeased. Adrien wants to meet his father in the middle because Gabriel is clearly trying and Adrien doesn't want him to think he's ungrateful. It seems to imply that whatever happened in illusion didn't make Gabriel an obvious vilain to Adrien, that there is still plausible deniability about him working with a terrorist. (That or Gabriel being sick overweighs Adrien's anger)

Nathalie comes into the scene looking for him and Gabriel warmly welcomes her. While we later get what Gabriel is trying to do with this tactic, Adrien doesn't. We see him focus on Nathalie wearing one of the Graham rings and the overall atmosphere leads him to the conclusion that his father is finally moving forward (which is true but not in the way we could hope). Adrien is now pretty convinced that Gabenath is canon and he now has a new mother.

Now what happens after the breakfast scene kickstarts his subplot. Adrien, still very much simping over Marinette, wonders about what he should do to confess. Should he just tell her ? Should he write her a letter like they do in books ? He's not exactly sure and decides to ask one of the few person he can while at home : Nathalie. However Nathalie is, and has been since season 3 getting sicker and sicker and right when they are breaching the topic of Adrien's crush, she goes into a coughing fit. Adrien panics then and realises that, despite how the breakfast made it seem like he finally has a family, Nathalie has the same symptoms his mother had and might just disappear too. Nathalie denies being sick and tells him to run along and get to school.

Adrien now has two different topics to worry about : his crush and Nathalie's illness. The answer comes in the form of, you guessed it, Marinette. He approaches her and begins to talk about Nathalie and his worries. Marinette listens and advices him to just stay with her and be there for her when she needs it, and overall manages to calm him down a lot. Which reminds Adrien of the other subject that has been running in his mind : Marinette. He begins telling her how special she is to him and how much she has helped and Marinette completely panics and runs away (the why of this reaction will be more at home in a Marinette analysis so I won't go into details here).

Adrien's overthinking is thankfully halted by an akuma. I won't go into the Ladynoir/Misternoire scenes because they have a lot more to do with Marinette's subplot (being about her crush on Chat Noir and his subsequent reaction to it)

And what an akuma it is ! He recognises her as Nathalie (especially since Nathalie has just told him about the whole chassing after artifacts that she used to do in her youth). Obviously Adrien is the only one aware of the situation : Ladybug has no idea this is Nathalie and Nathalie doesn't think she has any connection to Chat Noir.

Nathalie says she has nothing left to lose and oh boy does Adrien disagree. From Nathalie's point of view, we get why she says that : Gabriel has basically guilt-tripped her into helping him because they have nothing left to lose (except Adrien). Adrien obviously dissaproves, and takes a page out of Marinette's advice and tells her that you never have nothing to lose when people care and are there for you (to paraphrase, I only watched the episode once). And even if Nathalie doesn't know it's Adrien, she does a double take at this speech and the camera interestingly focuses on Misterbug's face - that looks very similar to Adrien with his green eyes and blond hair. Do I believe they purposefully made the Nathalie gets akumatised the episode where Adrien's transformation looks the most like he does in his civilian lives ? I'm not saying they didn't at least.

When they can't find the akuma on her, Adrien's insider knowledge is very important : Marinette never could have guessed where the akuma was with one Lucky Charm, there's just too much information she's missing. Luckily though, Adrien has all the infos he needs. Really, his Lucky Charm is exactly what he knew he needed to solve the problem : an alibi of sorts as to why he wants to go to the Agreste's house. Just like in Refleckdoll, Adrien knows what he wants and summons his lucky charm knowing what he has to do (the exact opposite of Marinette, who summons hers when she is at a loss)

His reasoning sounds flimsy at best but he does manage to get to Nathalie's room and captures the akuma with no problem.

The ending scene is where Adrien's subplot resolves itself : he shares a very heart-warming scene with Nathalie; He tells her how much she matters to him, hugs her and is overall a sweetheart. He isn't entirely reassured that Nathalie will be okay, but he sure as hell will show her he cares.

And Nathalie settles herself into the role of a second mother, finally does what Emilie asked her to do : she brings back the "I have a crush" topic and is ready to give all the advice he needs, even if she might not know how to deal with the situation. Adrien is her son in all the ways that matters, and she will help him however she can.

Now we don't know the effects this subplot will have in the future : will it further convince Nathalie that she has to help Gabriel ? Will it do the opposite ? We don't yet know but it certainly reinforces one thing : if she has to choose between winning (saving herself/Emilie/Gabriel) and Adrien, she will choose Adrien with no hesitation. I think it also was a great moment to adress the fact that all of Adrien's parental figures are on their death bed at this point, and he doesn't take well to it.

I believe this episode was the perfect moment to have Adrien and Nathalie's relationship explored and they really hit the mark.

#adrien agreste #nathalie sancoeur #miraculous ladybug #ml analysis #ml passion #ml spoilers

[vivacissimx]

o resident viserra scholar 🙇‍♀️what kind of relationship do you think saera and viserra had? do you think either of them thought of each other with affection or envied each other after saera's exxxplosive exit? feel free to not answer if you don't want to!

RESIDENT VISERRA SCHOLAR *explodes*

I like this question, I've thought a lot about this specific dynamic because it's impossible not to when considering Viserra. Saera is the favorite of her father, thought of affectionately by her brothers, and the bane of her mother & sisters. Viserra's relationships inside of her family pale in comparison so you start to see through that contrast that attention from Jaehaerys & Alysanne has become a very limited resource at this point. Saera ('fierce and stubborn') has as much as she has because she demands it, something Viserra (equally willful but 'she never screamed and she certainly never cried') does not. The first thing that jumps out at me is competition between the siblings.

I enjoy that personally, because if Aemon & Baelon's relationship is described as competitive but deeply loving, rich off the plentiful familial love they grew up on — Vaegon & Daella's lacking love yet their individual 'happiness' nonetheless secured by their attentive parents — it makes sense to show the dark underbelly of that family structure through siblings like Saera & Viserra. What happens when the river runs dry? The survivors scrap over the leftovers.

Each of them had plenty of non-familial attention, particularly sexual attention from men and boys starting from their youth. Both of them were willful, a bit arrogant, sly, and rebellious, and both of them had a certain disdain for the men who desired them. It makes sense considering the ridiculousness of the fact that even at 2 and 6, the prime concern regarding them was their possible marriage (to Vaegon). Born & raised to be brides.

Did they have any common ground due to that?

Honestly, I don't really see it - Saera being four years older and having a superiority complex doesn't endear me to thinking she would be the type to care much about Viserra. Spending time around each other, sure — having some inside jokes & sibling scuffles, that seems realistic.

Post-Saera's flight... look, Saera was put under guard in the Red Keep. Publicly disowned. Her lovers humiliated. Then afterwards, packed off to Oldtown where she faced beatings and deprivations that someone of her nature never experienced before. Saera lost all faith in her parents and was forced to exchange sex for money to create a life away from everything she'd ever known. (Oh but Jaehaerys would have ended her punishment eventu—according to who? And why would Saera believe that after a year and a half? I know we're meant to think her spoiled and impatient but she was a scared teenage girl who didn't trust her parents to care for her, parents who ruled over the entire continent. Have sympathy for this, or don't, but she has the right to a perspective.)

Did Viserra envy her that? No. There was a pretty clear message in Saera's punishment for Viserra: this could happen to you.

While I'm tempted to think Viserra probably heard of Saera's fate and thought 'well that won't happen to me because I'm smarter/know better' that doesn't change the fact that, when betrothed, Viserra tried to get out of it by seducing Baelon. A son who Jae & Aly loved, a man known for being a loving partner, and a husband who could protect her from anyone. Such a specific choice!

Did Saera think of Viserra? This I can guess even less but my hunch is that she was just like nah fuck 'em about all members of her family, didn't necessarily blame them all but would've had a 'they should have helped me' chip on her shoulder (fair). The most I can imagine is her hearing of Viserra's death and thinking her parents deserved that, perhaps even feeling vindicated in her choice to escape Westeros by any means.

#viserra targaryen #saera targaryen #asoiaf #pre asoiaf #text #jaehaerys targaryen #alysanne targaryen #asks

[fireinmywoods]

I’ve been reading Kirk/McCoy on and off for like 10 years now, and you - through your fic and this here blog - are like single handedly responsible for dragging me back into it this time around. I wondered about any head canons you had around Leonard’s childhood and teenage years. We at least get a glimpse of young Kirk and young Spock in the movies, but nothing for McCoy, and I’m very curious about your take.

Oh, I have plenty of thoughts around Leonard's youth, though I'm afraid it's hard to recall what's already made it into posted works and what's still buried in WIP drafts, so forgive me if I get a little slip-slidey. Some of this is semi-canonical, some I've just made up for Reasons, but I think it's all plausible enough!

1. Leonard grew up as the only son of a prominent family in the (fictional) small town of Marysville, GA.

Extended universe canon has it that his paternal grandfather was Chief of Medicine at Emory in Atlanta, which I think we can reasonably assume is still the top hospital in Georgia as of the 23rd century. And of course his father was a doctor as well. So he comes from a solid line of highly educated and successful professionals.

Leonard is semi-canonically from Atlanta himself, but I've gone ahead and rejected that, because no fucking way was that folksy-ass motherfucker (who is after all "just an old country doctor") born and raised in Atlanta proper. (Though it is also extremely funny to me to imagine him as some city asshole cosplaying as a hayseed for some mysterious reason, knowing damn well that no one else on the Enterprise knows enough about Georgia to catch him out.)

To reconcile this, I've decided that his mother's family was originally from [vague hand wave] some ways outside Savannah and that Eleanora didn't much care for city living, so after getting married, she and David moved to Marysville, where they were initially viewed with some suspicion as outsiders (and high-and-mighty city slickers, at that) but in time came to be accepted and respected as pillars of the community.

2. He was the only grandchild on his maternal side and spoiled rotten by his granny and granddaddy.

The family alternated holidays between David's parents in Atlanta and Eleanora's parents near Savannah, and while Leonard loved both sets of grandparents, he preferred being at his granddaddy and granny's place and often accompanied his mama on extended summer visits. The McCoys were kind but a bit more serious and reserved, with a beautiful home filled with lots of things little boys weren't allowed to touch. Much more fun to run around orchards sticking worms in his pockets and getting into mild mischief. It didn't hurt that Granny was a superb baker (and also known for her eggnog, as noted in pentimento).

Fun fact: it's his granny and granddaddy's home outside Savannah (which tends to get a lot of there-and-gone afternoon thunderstorms in the summer) where his childhood memories take place in sforzando.

3. He was a mama's boy.

He looked a lot more like his father and of course went on to follow in David's footsteps as a doctor, but personality-wise, he's much more like his mother, who shared a similar blend of fussing over her brood and low tolerance for bullshit.

4. He was raised up right. Theoretically.

Look, an attempt was made, okay? Someone - many someones - for sure gave that boy all the right home training. He's from two long lines of born and bred Georgians, and there is absolutely no way he wasn't rigorously trained in appropriate manners, decorum, and housekeeping. He even did cotillion classes, remember! (Jim definitely remembers. Jim will never, ever forget, nor let slip an opportunity to bring it up.)

So his elders tried. And as noted in pentimento, his parents did their best to work with him on his temper when he hit his teen years and started blossoming into the mouthy hothead we know and love. It's not his their fault he grew up into such an irascible old cuss who's apparently determined that the genteel passive aggression he grew up steeped in must sometimes be supplemented with full-on aggressive aggression.

I guess what I'm saying is, you can't blame his raising for why he's so Like That. That's sheer force of personality, baby. (I mean, aside from the part where he enjoys swanning in to inquire about his frenemy's troubles and drop a "helpful" and vaguely insulting pearl of wisdom before swanning back off to gossip about it with his bestie. That there's a Southern specialty.)

5. He was fairly popular growing up.

I recognize I may encounter some skepticism on this point, given the, uh, everything about the grown-up Leonard we know and love, but let's look at the facts.

He was from a good family, which goes pretty far in a town like Marysville.

He's exceptionally smart and hard-working as an adult, and given where he ended up career-wise, one can imagine he must have done well in school. I've even gone so far as to decide he skipped a couple grades at some point, though admittedly that was partly an effort to make sense of his timeline so that he could be a fully trained doctor by the time we meet him on the shuttle at 28.

So anyway, he was smart and a good student - but as Jim intuited in pas de deux, it wasn't the sort of disquieting freaky-smart that made baby Jimmy something of an outcast in his own small town. Leonard's was a more...palatable intelligence, let's say. And it helped that he was also a jock.

Yeah, you heard me. The extended universe indicates that baby Leonard dreamed of being a pro basketball player, and as an adult he is in suspiciously good shape for a man of science, so I went ahead and had him play basketball in middle and high school until a knee injury took him off the court for good.

So in summary: smart, good family, an athlete, well-mannered, and looks like young Karl Urban? Yeah, I'm pretty sure my guy did just fine among his peers, introversion/short fuse/social awkwardness be damned.

In fact, I'm looking forward to introducing you to some of those peers in the high school reunion fic! Assuming I can manage to finish it before the heat death of the universe!

That's all I've got off the top of my head. I'd love to hear anyone else's ideas too!!

#also ANON you are so sweet!!! i can't tell you what an amazingly rewarding thing that is to hear 💙💛 #ask #anon #fic related #mccoy #star trek #aos

[billthedrake]

DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH (PART TWO)

"Moooose!" It was TJ Miller's teammate and good buddy Trey jogging up beside him as the team made their way in from football practice. TJ was an offensive lineman and Trey was a kicker, so they often spent practice doing different drills.

"T-Man," TJ said with a gruff smile. "What's up? Your golden foot gonna win the game for us this weekend?"

"We'll see," Trey grinned. "Listen, what you doing for your birthday?" It was TJ's 18th.

"My dad's taking me out tonight. Steak dinner, the whole works," the 6'5" jock answered. TJ had hit another growth spurt the last year, and while he wasn't overweight, he was genetically stocky in build, the teen muscle looking even fuller and bigger. If he didn't hate school so much, he'd be college scholarship material for sure.

"Nice," his friend answered. "Maybe we can get a few of the guys together this weekend and do something. Kevin's parents have that place up at the lake, and he's always going on about us going up there."

"That'd be cool," TJ said. He always felt self-conscious around Kevin Reynolds, the team quarterback and golden boy. Kevin's family was loaded. He wasn't exactly an asshole about it, but the quarterback was always was bragging about some gift or vacation or something.

TJ's dad was strictly blue collar, though Mark Miller had worked hard and now was the owner of a successful welding business on the outskirts of their small town. It had been a rocky upbringing for TJ, since his mom had gotten into drugs and left them by the time TJ was 5. She was living a state over now and was doing better, mostly out of rehab, and TJ saw her once a year at the holidays. But it was mostly just him and Pop... and the rotating cast of girlfriends who'd show up around the house.

TJ had to laugh at how predictable his dad's type was... blond (real or fake), big tits, ten years or so younger than him, kind of a cross between sorority girl, metal-band groupie, and biker chick. Somewhat whorish, to be crude. Mark Miller wasn't magazine handsome by any means, but he had blue eyes and youthful dimples and a sexual magnetism that seemed to win women over. At least the women he went for. But they never stuck around long... one or two months, maybe, or if he was real into them, eight or nine. Then it was another woman showing up at the house.

TJ knew the town looked down on his dad for his bachelor ways. He also knew his Dad didn't give a fuck. That's one reason he looked up to his old man, for all of the ways Pop annoyed him sometimes. And deep down, the jock suspected his dad wasn't going to commit to a relationship while TJ was still around. For as unconventional a father as Mark Miller was, he was a good dad and thought the world of his son.

****

The steak dinner was great, but even more so TJ was starved from a tough practice, and his Dad ribbed him for scarfing his food.

"Sorry, Pop," the now 18 year old said deferentially.

Mark flashed those dimples on his otherwise tan, weathered face. "Just teasing ya, Thomas," he said. Mark always called him by his full first name, not TJ, not Moose. "Eat up. That's why I brought you here."

TJ craved times like this. When Pop was in a good mood. When there wasn't one of the man's girlfriends around. As they finished up, Mark seemed to be smirking as he watched TJ.

"What?" the football jock laughed.

Mark smiled. "You're all fucking grown up. That's what."

"I guess," TJ replied.

Mark leaned in. "So... it's been a while for our father-son chats... you still a virgin, son?"

TJ blushed. "Dad! What the fuck?"

Mark didn't relent. "What? It's just us, man to man, Thomas. You're 18 and about to graduate. I wanna make sure my boy is enjoying life a little."

TJ knew why his Dad hounded him. Mark Miller was the kind of dude who lost his virginity at 15 and fucked his way through half the cheerleading squad, and loved to brag about it. To Mark it seemed only natural TJ would be the same way.

"I, dunno, Pop... I guess I'm not good around girls." TJ hated lying to his father, but it wasn't a total lie. For all of his success playing football, at heart TJ was an awkward kid and his recent growth had made him a bull-in-the-china shop socially.

Mark nudged his son's cheek playfully with his fist then lean back with a proud smile. The man definitely had something up his sleeve. "That doesn't matter where we're going tonight."

TJ didn't understand. "Whaddya mean?"

"I figured I'd get you a special birthday present... there's a hooker I've used who's a real pro... I mean like anything you wanna try," Mark explained. "Good looking too, not a skank."

"Dad, I dunno..." TJ meekly objected.

"Come on, boy, it'll be a blast. Trust me on this."

Mark was a persuasive man, but more than that TJ was scared of disappointing him. Maybe if he thought of Coach Adams the whole time...

TJ tried to pass it off as first time jitters on the ride across town. He wondered how often his Dad went to prostitutes. He had a feeling it was more than a rare occasion. They got out of the truck and walked up to a nondescript ranch house.

"Hey Mark," a woman answered. Mark had been right. She was pretty... older than TJ expected, but petite and kind of a mom next door.

Mark clapped his hand on TJ's meaty shoulder. "This is my boy Thomas."

"Well hello Thomas, I'm Susie," the hooker smiled in a honeyed voice, not missing a beat.

"I want you to take real good care of him.... anything he's in the mood for..." Mark pulled out a stuffed envelope from his inner coat pocket. "I made the kitty real sweet for ya tonight."

"Well thanks, Sugar," she smiled to TJ's dad. Then turning to the young jock, she took his hand. "Don't be nervous, honey... we'll have a real good time." She practically pulled TJ inside, as his father gave him a pat on the back and sauntered back to wait in his truck.

Susie led TJ back to a bedroom. Nice and clean, not what he expected. Maybe he only had TV prostitutes to go by, but this seemed... normal.

But Susie was slipping off her nightgown and showing off a pair of big round tits. The woman had implants, but they were good ones. She had on some lacy panties but otherwise stood before TJ completely naked.

It was the first time TJ had seen a women nude in the flesh, and as he pulled off his jeans, dutifully determined to go with it, he wished to god the sight turned him on.

"So Thomas... are you the romantic type?"

"Romantic?" TJ asked. This was a hooker.

"I mean," she tried to explain. "Some men, well they want some affection they're not getting elsewhere, or want to pretend I'm a girl they've been pining for. That sort of thing." Seeing TJ's reaction, she smiled. "Maybe you're more a get your rocks off kind of man," she added. "I respect that."

"Yeah," TJ said, dumbly. It was now or never. The jock shucked his boxer briefs and his big soft dong flopped out.

Susie sized him up. "You're definitely your Daddy's boy," she grinned. Stepping up she reached down and cupped TJ's sizable genitals. "Let's see if we can warm these engines up."

TJ gulped. He tried. God knows he tried. He thought of Coach Adams doing what Susie was doing. He thought of the last gay porn video he'd jacked off to. He shut his eyes and thought of how he'd dreamed his first time with a man to go.

"You OK, Honey?" Susie asked, concerned. "I can do something else."

"No," TJ muttered. He reached down and pulled up his briefs and reached for his jeans. "I can't... sorry Susie...."

Already the tears were coming, breaking his voice. Then sobs. The fact this prostitute was seeing him break down somehow made it worse. He couldn't bear to look at her as he rushed out of the house and toward Pop's truck.

"Hey kiddo," Mark enthused, "that was fast..." His words were interrupted when he realized TJ was crying. A face-red, ugly cry. "It's OK," he patted his son's leg. He got out of the car and walked up to the door, where Susie was appearing.

TJ watched as they had a quick conversation. Susie was explaining what had gone on to his father. At least as much as she knew.

The jock feared the worst when his dad opened the truck door and got back in. His crying had stopped, and fear and shame now replaced the distress of the moment.

"You really aren't into women, are you, son?" Mark said, the realization sinking in.

"No, Pop. I'm so fucking sorry..."

Mark gave a stern but loving nod. "Don't say you're sorry, Thomas. Where you get your dick wet is between you and your maker... and hell, it's not even his goddamn business."

It was the best thing a father could have told him. "I should have told you, Pop. I wish I'd had the guts to... save you all that money."

"Don't worry about the money," Mark said. He started the truck. "I guess I can be an intimating SOB, huh?" he said.

"A little," TJ admitted.

Mark laughed, and that TJ felt himself laugh.

As they got back to the house, Mark got that idea up his sleeve grin again. "Time for another man to man talk," he said as he sat on the sofa. TJ took the seat across from him.

"How long you known?"

"Like forever, Pop," TJ admitted. "Since my first fantasies, you know."

Mark nodded. "You on the level about being a virgin? Or was that a cover?"

TJ spoke up. "Oh on the level. I've never... I don't even know how I'd find a guy in this town."

"Not one of your teammates or anything?"

"No sir." TJ wasn't quite sure why Pop was giving him the third degree, especially after what he said earlier.

"Well my offer still stands."

"What offer?" TJ didn't follow.

"A hooker. Or escort, whatever you call it when it's a dude."

"Jesus, Pop... you already forked out enough money tonight."

"Susie didn't charge me, son," he replied. "I gave her a little something for her time and trouble. But this..." he reached in his coat pocket and pulled out that envelope, still stuffed, and tossed it on the coffee table. "should be enough to get you a good time. Whaddya say?"

It was a little messed up, but TJ knew it was his father's way of giving him an important experience. And TJ wasn't gonna lie to himself, he was way eager to have sex for the first time.

With a shy grin, the jock admitted, "If you're offering, I'm not gonna say no, Pop."

Mark's expression got a big wide smile. "You're a Miller all right." He seemed to be thinking it over. "In a couple weeks... we'll go up to Chicago. Make a weekend of it. Catch a Blackhawks game. And you can help me pick out the right dude to hire." He got a sheepish expression. "I'm afraid your old man doesn't know much about the gay stuff."

***

That's how it went down. Pop even closed up shop a couple hours early and was ready to go once TJ got home from school. The first night in the city they caught the hockey game, and Saturday morning they did a little sightseeing.

By early afternoon, TJ's dad seemed in a down, quiet mood.

"Pop... we don't gotta," the jock said. "I don't gotta..."

"It's not that," Mark answered, forcing a smiled. "I guess I'm just realizing you'll probably want to leave Centerville after you graduate."

TJ knew instantly what was on his dad's mind. Other than raising a fine son, Mark Miller was proud of nothing more than his business. He'd built it from the ground up, with hard work. And once he had an idea TJ wasn't college bound, he taught his boy welding and everything he knew about running the business. It was understood TJ would stay on and take it over eventually. The gay thing was throwing a wrench in that plan.

"I'm not going anywhere, Pop. Not anytime soon," he added.

Mark gave an affectionate smile and pulled his big boy close to him for a second as they walked.

They made their way back to the hotel and Mark checked his watch. "It's about time," he said. "I'll give you your privacy, Thomas. But you know where the money is. And call if there's any trouble."

"Thanks, Pop, you're the best," TJ said. He was surprisingly not hesitant about this. Eagerness and teen hormones had taken over. He'd been chubbing off and on all morning in anticipation.

He didn't have to wait long when he got to the room. TJ stripped down, then put on a pair of football short just to be decent. He counted and double counted the cash in the envelope. It was certainly more than what Susie charged. This was the big city, and Pop had sprung for a high-class escort.

TJ didn't know how high class until a knock came at the door and he went to open it. "Steve" was crazy hot. Dressed in form-fitting gym-workout clothes, the prostitute stood 5'11" and solidly built with gym-honed muscled. TJ guess the man was in his late 30s. Handsome in a non-flashy way, Steve looked like he could have been one of those career men who TJ had seen downtown and at the hockey game last night.

"Thomas?" the escort asked with a deep masculine voice and a friendly smile on his face.

"Yeah," the jock grinned. "You can call me TJ."

"Nice to meet you TJ," the escort said, stepping into the hotel room. He was very much a professional and at ease. He set down a gym back and turned to TJ, who stood on and felt his cock stir back to firmness. "You have a nice body, TJ," he said. "You an athlete?"

"Yessir, football," TJ replied. "I used to do some wrestling but got too big." The jock felt dumb because he didn't know how much small talk to give. This guy probably didn't give a shit what sport he did, TJ reckoned.

Steve chuckled. "No need to call me sir... unless that's your thing."

TJ laughed nervously. "I don't know what my thing is, actually... this is my first time."

"First time with a professional?" Steve clarified.

TJ shook his head. God he was nervous now, but it was a different kind of nervous than with Susie. "No. First time, period. I'm a virgin."

"Wow," Steve said. "Well, I'm honored to be your first, TJ." He stepped up, like he was going to initiate a kiss. "I should double check... you're 18 right?"

TJ nodded. "I got an ID if you wanna see."

"That's fine," Steve assured him, then paused. "On second thought, I should."

TJ went over to his wallet and fished out his driver's license. Steve took a look, nodded, and handed it back.

"Um, the money is there," TJ pointed to the envelope by the bed. Steve picked it up and took a quick look inside.

"Thank you," he said. "So, TJ..." he continued as he undid his zip up outer sweatshirt and peeled off his T-shirt. "You just tell me what you want, OK? If it's vanilla, it's good. Top, bottom, sucking, whatever - I do it all. If it's more, just ask. Some things are an easy yes, some are a hard no, and some require negotiating." He stood shirtless and kicked off his shoes. "But mostly I'm here to make you happy, got it?" Then the joggers came down, leaving Steve completely nude.

"Yeah, got it," TJ hissed, so turned on. Steve was porn hot. Scratch that, he had a better body than any porn guy he'd seen. Sculpted muscle that was big without being muscle bound, waxed smooth but with thick pubes and nice leg and arm hair. A heavy long dick hung from the man's crotch. "God, anything is gonna be amazing," the jock added, eyeing Steve up from head to toe.

"You're overdressed, stud," Steve winked.

TJ nodded and pushed his shorts down. This time there was no performance problem. TJ was hard as a rock.

"Oh my fucking god, kid," Steve grunted, unable to take his eyes off TJ's cock. "You're fricking huge."

TJ knew he had a big dick. Even soft he showed bigger than his teammates in the showers. But now he had confirmation of just how much out of the ordinary he was. "Too big?" he asked nervously. God, if this fell through just because he had a big schlong, TJ was gonna be majorly upset.

Steve could barely take his eyes off that prick. "No such thing, stud... wow!"

The fact this hot as hell escort appreciated his endowment made TJ's dick surge harder, almost bouncing up from its heavy standing position.

Finally, the handsome escort looked up into TJ's horny face. "So, stud... this is all about you. Any way you want your special first time to play out," he asked with a grin.

TJ asked, "Um, do you kiss?"

Steve nodded and stepped up to the taller high school senior athlete, placing his hands on TJ's beefy body. Those hands felt incredible to TJ, almost better than the feel of Steve's breath on his face and the connection of another man's lips to his for the first time. Almost. The jock didn't know what to expect from kissing a man. Steve's kiss both matched his expectations and felt different. Real, not fantasy, especially once that tongue darted between his lips and met TJ's urging it to probe back. It did.

TJ's hards were now on this hunk's body, feeling him up and humping against him as he leaned down slightly into that heated kiss.

Steve pulled back, a smile on his face. He gently bumped fists against TJ's broad chest. The footballer wouldn't be mistaken for an older man, but the young dude was solid and muscular beneath that genetic padding. "You're a tall fella," Steve hissed. "Maybe this would be more comfortable on the bed."

"Yeah," TJ agreed. As he stepped toward one of the spare double beds and pulled the covers down, he could make out the trail of precum on Steve's upper abs and smooth sternum. He got on the bed and watched as Steve climbed on slowly, almost seductively, and ran his hands up TJ's legs.

"You feel up for a blow job?" the escort asked.

"God yeah," the jock laughed. "For starters." He looked down at this muscular man, ready to do what he asked. It was the first time that realization fully sank in for TJ. He got a sense of why his Pop loved hookers. "I wanna fuck you, too," he said boldly.

Steve's hands gripped the base of that meaty teen prick and pulled it up to an upright position. Leaning in, he growled, "Don't worry, I'll pull off when you get close. Just give me a heads up, OK?" Servicing a virgin was a first for the male prostitute, but he suspected this young john might not have the best trigger control.

TJ's eyes were wide as he watched Steve take his prick in his mouth and start sucking. Just a few exploratory sucks to wet that dong was all the older man needed before he began actively sucking the cock.

"Shit!" TJ gasped, surprised at how amazing it felt. "Suck me, man." Steve wasn't deep throating his meat, not by a long shot, but TJ didn't expect that. He didn't expect anything in particular really, it all felt great. The tongue, the slick saliva, the suction. And most of all the sight of an older man blowing him, going to town on his cock.

"Oh shit, pull off!" he warned. Too soon, the escort had him at the brink.

Steve let out a chuckle and blew on that twitching hard dick. He flicked the base of the shaft with his fingers, a kind of rough snap. "OK if I do this, stud? It'll help keep you from overheating."

TJ nodded. The sting at the base of his prick almost tickled. But it worked. He was still rock hard, but the danger of orgasm passed.

Steve repeated his sucking now, and this time TJ was able to savor it with less urgency. This guy was good. Hell, that was an understatement. TJ felt a little guilty about how much Pop was shelling out for a half hour with Steve, but the escort was worth what he charged.

Again, the stirring in TJ's balls was a warning sign. His signal to Steve was less urgent, but the sucker got the picture and pulled off. He avoided stimulating the head, but worked his fist up and down the bottom half of the prick.

"You're a stallion and a half all right.... OK if I sit on it first? After I get used to the size you can fuck me in whatever position you want."

TJ's prick twitched at those words, and he watched Steve go over and pull out some special-looking lube from his gym bag. Or maybe it's what gay guys always used for anal. Steve had the look of a man on a mission as he reached back between his buns and applied an extra amount of lube, and some more for good measure, then climbed back on the bed. He straddled TJ's midsection and reached back to slick up that meaty dong.

"This is easily ten inches," he said aloud. "Damn."

TJ never felt prouder. His dick size wasn't his doing, but somehow he felt like a real man with this guy. Particularly watching Steve's face as he sat back on the big pole. It wasn't a wince of pain, but the man definitely reacted to the stretching of his hole. It took about twenty seconds for him to work that head past his ring, then he sank down.

"God yes," Steve grunted, feeling his guts fill up with that heavy jock dong. He got caught up in his own bodily sensations, but then remembered TJ. "How's that feel, kiddo? Your first piece of ass?"

"Amazing," TJ replied, running his hands all along Steve's built outer thighs. He grunted once Steve bottomed out, sitting all the way down on his crotch. "I don't even know to describe it," the jock continued. "It's everything I dreamed about."

Steve's insides felt alive. Somehow the cock felt even thicker and longer inside him. But the initial discomfort was giving way, fast. "I'm glad, stud." He raised up and little, maybe two inches, then eased back down. And again.

"Fuck, that's nice," TJ grunted. It was like a slow handjob but with the tighter suction of Steve's slick bowels doing the massaging.

Steve's focus was now entirely on his newbie john, eyes on TJ's, locked in and trying to read the jock's face. "Want me to work out your load like this?" he asked.

TJ almost said yes. But he'd dreamed of something and worried he wouldn't have a chance to experience it. "I wanna take you from behind," he hissed. "Doggy style."

Steve grinned. "Should have guessed," he winked. He gave a couple of short shallow hip motions on that prick, as much for his own pleasure as for TJ's. Then he slid up and off, letting that heavy hard meat fall onto TJ's belly with a thud. Steve grinned and took a second to add some more lube with his fist. "I shouldn't be telling you to become an escort, but if you ever did, you'd make a killing, kiddo."

TJ laughed as he slipped out from under Steve, getting on his knees, as the older muscled man go on all fours. It was TJ's first good view of the man's ass. Round and muscled and waxed smooth. Greedily, the football player's hands gripped the hard mounds and felt them up for a second.

"You're an ass man all right," Steve chuckled, hiking his butt up for TJ's greedy hands.

TJ didn't know what he was. But he was rock hard and excited beyond belief. Like a porn star, he slapped his hard dick against those buns then slipped it down into the smooth crack.

"A little lower," Steve instructed then once that fat bludgeon of a dick head pressed against his pucker he hissed. "Yep, right there, stud." Bracing his upper body, he grunted, "I'm ready buddy... you can push it in."

TJ didn't know what was involved in fucking ass. But this guy was a professional, he figured. Once he got inside Steve's ass, he powered all the way in.

"God yes!" Steve cried, not too loud, but loud enough. "Fuck me kid."

TJ did. Hands gripping the escort's hips, he started a regular, fevered thrust. So this is what sex was about. The physical stimulation to his cock, the psychological pull of mating with another men, the sensory overload of it all. Slick fucking sounds, balls tapping Steve's taint, the heat of the older man's body beneath him, the scent of sex.

It took three minutes, and TJ wasn't going to hold back. Not now. "Unnngh!" he grunted as he entered orgasm. That cum seemed to go on, too, as TJ even got a little light headed from the intensity of it.

Meanwhile, Steve was fisting his meat and that professional ass was clenching down in regular timing as the man's own load sprayed the sheets.

TJ didn't want to pull out. But Steve was already stretching forward to ease off that still-hard dong. "Fuck, kid," he said as he rolled out from under TJ, with the help of the jock back up to let him. "I wouldn't have guessed that was your first."

TJ shot back a proud grin, placing his hands on his hips and letting his now slowly softening meat swing out, wet with lube and cum.

Steve almost laughed at the sight and the big smile on the jock's face. "How was your first time, man?"

TJ leaned in. He'd want another kiss before the man left. "Incredible," he said. "Gonna be hard to live up to this experience, I know."

Steve met the invitation to kiss. It wasn't prolonged, but it was the right mix of casual and romantic. "I'm afraid I gotta get to my trainer's session," he said. "I'll just rinse off first if that's OK."

"Yeah," TJ said. He sat on the bed and watched this perfect hunk strut to the bathroom. "I tapped that," he thought with excitement. "I actually fucked that guy."

***

TJ was watching ESPN, plopped up on the bed in some jeans and a sweatshirt when Mark Miller returned to the hotel room. He'd given a little extra time to be safe.

"So... how was it?" the father asked.

TJ looked up. "I can't even describe, Pop. So good. The guy was the best."

That made Mark happy. After the disaster with Susie, he wanted this time to be good for his son. That's when he saw the envelope. Still stuffed. "Didn't you give him the fee?" he asked, concerned something had gone wrong.

"Oh I did, Pop," TJ swore. "Or at least I tried to. Only he told me if was on the house."

"On the house?" Mark replied, sitting on the other bed. He'd never had a hooker turn down money.

TJ blushed. "You know, on account of my dick size."

Mark actually guffawed. "Well I'll be damned." He picked up the envelope, then tossed it back on the nightstand. "How bout this... you keep it, and next time you need a little escape from town, you'll have a little fun money. OK?"

"You sure, Pop?" TJ asked, sitting up.

"Sure I'm sure," the father said. He got weirdly emotional again. "Listen, Thomas, I won't try to bribe you to stay in Centerville. But if you do... listen, a man's got needs you know... well, damnit... I just want you happy Thomas."

It was a trip seeing his normally gruff father tongue tied. It broke down TJ's defenses some. "I'll make a go of it Pop. Run the business like you want. If I'm 25 and miserable, I'll figure it out then. But I'll do my best, Pop. Promise."

Mark smiled. He really had the best son in the world.

#drakestories

[mysteriouslyspookyandcooky]

Kilug the Orc (f/m)

female protagonist has moderate stutter

warnings: violence, language, sexual themes, mature themes

words: 4442

Being born into such a high family has, I admit, given me some problems. Unlike the rest of the clan, I refuse to follow in their footsteps.

That sounds stupid and selfish. But in this day and age, as the world progresses and the different empires rise from the ground, I realize there's no need to murder our way through.

Death is necessary. I, too, have fallen into the desire to paint people red, but in youth, anyone can be an idiot. My mother, bless her soul, has tried her hardest to make sure I never turn into my father. As terrible as it is, I thank the gods he's dead. Even though I was meant to love him, his ways are worse than any tyrant could make up.

As an orc, we were destined to be hated. Yes, we rule a part of the North, but it wasn't taken without decent bloodshed. Now I'm left with the parts my father destroyed. Left with string and hope to try and pull the kingdom back together.

Coming into the crown was terrifying at first. To think I had to try and win the hearts of a nation over from the fear my father planted within them.

It was a slow start, but in two years' time, I made Aidrinyar into a prosperous nation that didn't need to kill people to show its dominance. Trade with neighboring kingdoms opened once more with some negotiation. Seems people are more trusting of my mother. A saint she is.

Along the corridor, Kilug hears a small cry. Not one of pain as it sounds. Opening the door to his right, a woman looks over frantically. It's one of the maids. Kilug takes in her disheveled figure and gasps, "Is everything alright?"

She shakes her head as she sits on the edge of the bed, "My mother. And sister. They're oh gods-"

Kilug looks around then approaches her, "Come along. My mother will help you."

His mother sits in the mess hall playing with some yarn as her son approaches her. The woman gasps and sets her needles down, "Dear, what's wrong?"

The woman falls to her knees. Kilug manages to catch her as she falls to help her into a nearby chair. She sobs slightly, "Tell me what's wrong."

She takes a moment to collect herself, "My mother and sister are at the edge of town. I just got word that someone raided that end and I-" 

The maid breaks into sobs again, "Kilug. Take Ornis and the others to go check it out. What do your mother and sister look like?"

Gulping, she squeaks out a simple response. "My mother is older but my- my sister has bright red hair. It's long too. Answers to Ivor."

Kilug nods to his mother and heads out of the room. Ornis is his head knight. His sword shield as well. Just as he tells the darker orc the news, he's grabbing his axe off the wall with a curt nod.

It doesn't take long to reach the edge of town. The maid was right. At least five homes are destroyed. Kilug curses but a person comes flying out of one of the houses. It's a man. Human man. He groans from the floor as someone appears out of the door he got thrown from.

Red hair flashes in the wind as a sword is held in their grasp. It's a woman. The man scrambles to get up but she steps on his hand as he reaches for his sword. He begs for a moment before her sword goes into his chest.

Kilug frowns slightly but he gets what he deserves. The woman turns to them quickly, terrified. Kilug gets off of his steed first and smiles.

Her sword goes up, ready to attack him as well. Seems she has a wild spirit. Her clothes are dirty and ripped in some places. Those places are from slices to her limbs. Bloody scratches seep through the fabric as she stares him down.

This must be the sister. Her hair is long down by her hips. She wears pants much like a soldier would. Her legs stand apart as she breathes in heavily. Her eyes are a dull blue as they stare into his own brown ones.

He approached her carefully, "Ivor?"

Her head tilts, "Your sister. She sent for us to come and find you."

Her head shakes as she holds her sword, "She works as a maid in the castle."

That makes her drop her sword slightly. Then she points to the house. Kilug motions for Ornis to check. They stare at one another as the knight heads in. He comes back out, "Her mother. She's sick but doesn't look injured."

"We'll grab your mother and take her back to the castle, okay?" Kilug watches as she goes to retort but when her mother starts a coughing fit she frowns. Ivor nods his way. She watches as they load her mother into the wagon. Ivor looks at the thing before pulling herself up.

Ornis takes hold of the reins as the king moves back to watch the two. Ivor holds her mother's hand. She's going to be fine, that he's sure of, "Did you know those people?"

The redhead looks his way and only shakes her head. Kilug nods and it goes silent the rest of the way back to the castle.

Her mother is automatically taken in by the medics as Ivor follows the king and his tall knight suspiciously into a large room. Kilug's mother looks over and then stands. 

The maid gasps, "Ivor!"

The redhead smiles for the first time as she runs toward her sister. The smaller one collides with Ivor as she wraps her arms around her frame. The maid sobs into her chest as her sister holds her there.

She pulls away, "Are you okay?"

Ivor nods. Her sister sighs, "You look terrible..."

Kilug approaches, "Go get some rest. I will have to ask you about what you knew of those men. I'll also send one of the guards to tell you news of your mother."

Ivor still stares at him as her sister smiles, "Thank you. Thank you so much. What could I ever do for you?"

The precious queen shakes her head, "Nonsense, my dear. Go rest."

Ivor holds her sister's arm as they walk out of the room. The redhead looks around as her sister speaks to her.

"Good job, my son."

Kilug smiles down as his moth, "Her sister is odd."

His mother raises an eyebrow, "Idi, the maid, mentioned she doesn't speak much. And tends to be the most standoffish of them both."

"I could tell. She raised her sword at me."

His mother, Amaria, chuckles. They both leave the room. Sometime later, Idi heads off to sit with her mother as the king calls for her sister. They have a small conversation before splitting ways.

Ivor looks much cleaner now as she comes into the main area. Kilug sits there waiting for her. He smiles when she enters, "Please come sit."

She looks at the chair before sitting in it. Her clothes seem new and there's no blood left so he assumes her wounds were also dressed.

"Ivor."

The woman looks up at him, a plain expression on her face. The orc smiles, "Do you remember anything about the raid?"

She says nothing for a moment before settling on a simple nod, "What do you remember?"

The woman makes a motion with her hands and points to her ears. She symbolizes a loud noise with her fingers extending, "Loud noise?"

Ivor nods then points to her mouth then makes another move to show screaming. The orc feels odd watching her act this out but he doesn't question it. But he can't help but wonder as to why.

Kilug nods, "Could you tell me what you heard or if you knew anyone's faces?"

She frowns before pointing to the quill on his desk. He frowns, "I'm afraid it's empty at the moment."

Ivor groans and crosses her arms in front of her, "Can you not speak to me?"

The woman flinches. The king watches her as she opens her mouth, "P- p- people do- don't like th- the way I- I talk."

Kilug sighs. She has a stutter. That must be why she doesn't talk. Her speech sounds lovely though considering.

"I don't see anything wrong with it," he tells her. She looks up at him and sighs. Then she starts the story.

The king leans back into the chair as he nods, "And that's what happened before?"

The woman nods, "Y- yes. Is th- that al- all you n- ne- need me f- for?"

"Unless it's for personal business, I will no longer need to ask you questions."

"P- personal b- b- business?"

Kilug smiles and shakes his head, "I just meant if we could talk."

Ivor looks at him and laughs, "Why?"

"Am I not allowed to want to speak with you?"

She sighs, "You c- can. B- but wh- why wo- wou- would you wa- want t- too?"

The king smiles her way, "It may surprise you but I rather enjoy your voice."

She states at him then laughs. He rolls his eyes, "I'm not kidding. Besides, I have time to talk to you as you'll be staying here for some time."

The redhead nods her head and offers him a hand, "I- I'm n- no e- eas- easy t- t- target."

Kilug smirks, "Doesn't that give me more of a challenge?"

Ivor opens her mouth to speak but closes it again. A small smile comes to her lips, "D- do- don't get y- your h- hopes up."

The king smiles, "I'm sure you'd humble me real quick if I did, my dear."

He watches as a small blush comes to her cheeks. She smirks and nods her head, knowing he to be true.

A week goes by. Their mother heals splendidly as Ivor acclimates to the castle life. Her time is spent in the library or in the training field. Her work as a warrior is worth talking about.

Every day, given the chance, Kilug will show up by her side. He watches her fight and looks at a distance as she reads.

One day, he moves into the library and notices her sitting by the window. He smiles as she tucks her hair behind her ear, "H- how m- m- many times wi- will you j- ju- just stand th- there?"

Kilug flinches but ends up chuckling. This time he approaches her, "You've noticed?"

The woman nods her head, "Ev- ev- every time."

A blush comes to his face and she chuckles. Her hand comes forward and pats his shoulder. She leans back and looks back to the pages before her, "You read a lot."

Ivor smiles, "I do."

"Why?"

The woman frowns. He tilts his head her way. She smiles at his ways, "I can- cannot spe- speak well."

"You sound lovely," he admits. The woman stutters, but not from speaking. She shakes her head, "I re- read be- be- better than I- I ta- talk."

He thinks for a moment and nods his head, "It makes you feel better?"

Ivor nods a little sheepishly. Kilug smiles and takes the book from her hands, "May I?"

The woman nods slowly, not sure what he's about to do. He looks at the page and starts from the top. Then he starts to read. It surprised her but soon she was leaning against the cushions and watching him. She studies his movements. Everything. It only makes her smile. At some point, she's not even listening. 

After the chapter, he turns towards her. He blushed from the look on her face, "Did I read okay?"

She nods. The woman moves towards him and brings him into a hug. He freezes for a moment before wrapping his arms around her, "Th- thank you."

Kilug smiles and squeezes her a little, "I'll do it for as long as you'll have me."

Ivor shakes her head, "Idiot."

"That I am."

After that interaction, Kilug doesn't shy away from walking up to her. For months they talk and become closer. Sometimes he even spars with her. It makes her happy and he could always use the practice.

Approaching the field, he notices she's not there. Frowning, he enters the castle. Ornis comes running up to him, "Kilug?"

"What?"

His friend seems frantic, "It's Ivor."

He runs alongside his friend as he takes him toward the medical ward. Idi stands outside the door with his mother. She sighs, "She's in there."

"What happened to her?"

Kilug's hands won't stop shaking as he speaks to them. They notice.

Idi let a few years fall down her face, "Some orc had asked to spar. She thought nothing of it. But he wasn't even playing fair! He almost chopped her arm off!"

Kilug turns to Ornis. He nods, "We have him already."

He says nothing more as he walks past his friends and into the room. The medics now at his presence, "She should be fine, your highness."

"What's wrong?"

"Her arm is in bad shape. The gash was so deep we're surprised it didn't fall off," the king grimaces, "But she's a tough one."

Another medic cuts in, "She may not have all the feeling back on the lower end of her left arm though."

They bow once more before leaving the room. With a shaky sigh, he moved towards the bed. Her hair lays on the white pillow. It's a stark contrast that makes him smile.

Sitting next to her wakes her. Ivor looks up at him through blurry eyes, "Kilug?"

"I'm here, my love. I'm here."

She barely registers the endearment as she sits up some. Then she hisses, her arm hurting, "Th- that fu- fu- fucking hurts."

He chuckles. At least she had her humor still. He pulls her to his chest, "Are you alright?"

"I'm a- alive."

Kilug sighs and pulls back. The man reaches into his trousers and pulls something out. It's a necklace. Small green beans are the main focus but a rin hangs in the middle, "Wh- what's th- th- this?"

"I won't lie to you, Ivor. These past three moons you've changed my life. I couldn't bear the fact that you were injured. I may kill that orc with my bare hands..."

The woman chuckles, "But that made me realize how I can't live without. You may say you hate your voice but I want to listen to it for the rest of my days."

He moves to kneel on the floor beside her. He takes her hands in his own, "Marry me. Be my queen."

Ivor notices how he says my instead of our. The woman feels tears in her eyes. They fall but she makes no sound for some time. Her good hand cradles his cheek in her palm, "I love you."

The orc smiles and crashes up against her to meet her lips. Her hand tangles I'm his hair. He pulls away, "I wou- would l- l- love to m- marry y- you."

Kilug smiles, a tear falling down his face, "My lovely bride."

The redhead laughs and kisses him over more just before he places the necklace over her head.

As she heals, he barely leaves her side. Rehab becomes something she has to do towards the end. Her arm is still attached and still works but she had to train it back to what it once was. She can't feel much of anything below the elbow, but it still can be used.

Moving around the library, someone comes up and picks Ivor off of the floor in a sudden burst of energy.

The woman yells, but a welcoming and rememberable smell hits her nose. She turns to look down at her king and smiles, "H- hello."

Kilug lets her down some and places a kiss on her lips, "Hello, darling."

She still blushes at the nicknames but it only makes her happier. Much like the rest of the family was to the news of the engagement.

Her fingers tangle into his hair and push it out of his face. He nips st her fingers making her pop his cheek, "Stop."

"You know I can't help it."

He sets her down and she smiles, "Now wh- why are yo- you here?"

He smiles and winks, "You're arm feeling better?"

"Yes?"

"Good enough to get married in an hour?"

Her mouth hangs open wide, "Hey, close that mouth of yours."

He pushes her bottom jaw up and smirks as she rolls her eyes, "R- r- really?"

He nods, "Just us, Idi, my mother, your mother, and Ornis."

Ivor only smiles, "I d- don't ha- have an- any- anything to- to we- wear."

"Coming as you is good enough for me."

The woman smiles up at the orc and nods, "I- I'll me- meet you in a- an hour."

The king smirks wide and kisses her again, "Good. I plan to enjoy you tonight."

He leaves her with those words. The woman almost drops the book in her hand. She looks at it. It's a romance. She laughs as she puts it back on the shelf.

Idi grabs her within minutes, refusing to let her go in without something nice. Her mother stands there and chuckles as the two bicker, "Now, dear sister, we both know Kilug is rather large so-"

Ivor makes a loud noise and shushes her sister, "Th- that's not im- im- important!"

Their mother rolls her eyes, "Idi."

Idi shrugs, "You're my sister. My tall and strong sister. But Kilug is two feet taller than you! Be careful."

Ivor grumbles as her sister winks at her. The wedding is simple. Neither of them wanted anything grand anyway. In the end, they all serve themselves food and ale. They all realized Ornis rather enjoyed it a little too much.

Kilug, being his friend, helped him to his room before heading back to his own. Ivor was already there, sitting at the vanity in the room. Her knees were up to her chest as she wrote something.

He enters the room. She smiles his way before turning back to the letter, "What are you writing?"

She blocks his vision, "Yo- you can see l- l- later. It's n- not d- do- done."

Kilug smiles and nods, "Of course, dear. Now come to bed."

She shakes her head but is soon picked up from the vanity and taken toward the bathroom. He, with her still in his arms, starts the flowing water from the river. The bath fills with water as he sets his wife on the sink.

Ivor frowns but smiles regardless. Kilug moves between her legs. The redhead kisses his nose with a small chuckle. He growls and kisses her lips in retaliation.

Their lips move against one another before he leaves to stop the water. The woman hops off the sink and starts to discard her clothing. The orc turns and is met with tanned skin. She shakes her head to ruffle her hair.

His eyes trail along her naked body in awe. She turns to him and notices his staring. Ivor frowns and points to his own clothes. He laughs and starts to discard his own.

Her eyes widen when his pants drop but she only smiles at him. He approached her and pulls her up. He settled into the tub with her in his lap. Ivor frowns and pushes his face away playfully.

Her thighs lay on his own. It's plushy, he notices. And soft to the touch. His hands land on her hips, somewhere he usually settled then but this time it's different.

Her hips are wide to accommodate her larger thighs. Her waist is straight from her work. Muscle lays in her abdomen and arms. Her breasts lay against his chest. They're bigger than he thought but she also liked to layer her clothing.

He lays on her chest. The woman sighs and drags her fingers through his hair. 

The two of them wash each other in the quiet. Then his wife settled back into his lap and kisses him softly. The notion makes the orc moan into the kiss. She smirks and he notices.

"I love you," she mutters.

"And I, you, my love."

Her hands fall down to his stomach as they kiss. One stays at his chest while the other reaches down to his cock.

He flinches and bucks his hips, "Hey...you don't need to do that."

Ivor rolls her eyes, "I- I wa- want to- too."

Her hand barely wraps around it. But the weird angle is worth it when he moans out. Her fingers drag along it, bringing him closer.

His head falls back and she kisses his jaw. He makes a small groaning noise before grabbing her hand, "Wa- was th- that not oh- okay?"

"No," he states, "I didn't want to cum like that."

Ivor smiles and kisses him once again. One hand of his holds her neck while the other moves down her chest. She gasps as he drags over her nipple but his trail doesn't end. His fingers turn oddly as he searched for her clit. 

Her body jolts when he finds it. The woman whimpers and pushes away some but he holds her there. His thumb makes small but precise circles. Her body then starts to move on its own, humping into his hand. Kilug smiles and kisses her forehead.

He keeps going and her moans only increase. Such beautiful sounds, he thinks. "K- kilug."

He nods and holds her in his arms, "Please," he begs, "Cum for me."

His thumb pushes harder and she yelps. It both hurt and felt so nice at the same time. Ivor falls slack against his chest. He runs her back as she catches her breath.

She shivers from the cold water, "P- pick me u- up?"

The man smiles and takes her with him as they wander back to the bed. He lays her down on top of the furs and smiles as she does.

Her hands reach out for him and he willingly falls into her embrace. One of her hands moves down and grabs his cock in her hand. He shivers, "Hey..."

Her hand pulls him towards her slightly and aligns it with her entrance. Kilug smiles, "Are you sure?"

"M- more than a- ah- anything."

The king smiles and moves his arms around. He helps align with her entrance and pushes in. The first initial thrust makes her back arch. He groans as her chest collides with his own. She already feels full.

He pushes forward more and a wanton moan comes from her lips, "Please."

The man smiles and kisses her softly, "You okay?"

"Yes. Pl- please."

"Please what?" He teases.

She groans aloud and slaps him playfully. It makes him shiver and twitch inside of her. The woman smirks and wraps her legs around his middle, "M- my love, pl- pl- please."

Kilug smiles and pushes into her. Soon enough his thigh is touching her backside. She whines and holds onto him. Her sister was right. Ivor lets out a small chuckle and kisses his lips.

"Want me to move?"

"Please."

He does. The first thrust tests the waters and she moans lightly. That's not enough. He pulls out and pounds forward. A loud moan exits her lips. He smirks and moves to her neck. He lays his neck in the crook of her shoulder as he pounds into her.

Her voice heightens as she mutters words. Small jumbles of words come out of her mouth. He does hear a few "I love you"s and "harder". The man smirks and takes her legs and pulls them over his shoulders.

Her back arches as she moans into his mouth. Her hands reach his back and hold onto him. He smiles as her nails drag painful lines down his back. He'd be proud to wear those for the rest of his life.

Ivor whimpers and holds onto him, "Love?"

"Hm?"

She grabs his head and keeps him close, "I- l- love yo- you s- s- so mu- much. You- you're the- the be- best th- th- thing t- to hap- happen to m- me."

It takes her a minute to get it all out, but it only makes tears form in his eyes. Kilug wraps one arm under her and keeps her to his chest. He kneels up, holding her upright in his arms. 

She moans and holds onto his face. They kiss with a fever as he bucks up into her. She grinds into him as they go. Her head falls back as she feels her climax approaching. His head falls forward and kisses along her collarbones, "I love you."

"I love y- you too," she whispers back.

One more thrust and a thumb to her clit has her screaming into thin air. She convulses a little as he thrusts into her, helping her high and reaching his. She can feel him cum. It's warm and it makes her smile. Her hands hold her body against his as they both breathe heavily.

Kilug falls forward slowly and lets her lay back on the covers. He rolls onto his side and watches her breathe. Her breasts move up and down with her movements.

Ivor turns to him and smiles. Her bad hand cradles his face and rubs small circles over his cheek with her thumb.

He kisses her hand before pulling her towards him. She lays on top of him completely as they bathe in the afterglow.

Her hand lays on his chest, drawing patterns, "Darling?"

"Hm?"

"Don't you want to clean up?"

Ivor shrugs, "W- wait. I wa- want to feel you."

He smiles and pulls her up to his face. The redhead smiles and kisses him, "A- are y- you pre- pre- prepared for- for the con- conse- consequences?"

It dawns on him and he chuckles. She joins in and shakes her head, "I am as long as you are."

Ivor smiles, "If it d- deals wit- with you, I- I don't m- m- mind."

The king smiles and pulls his queen down to lay beside her. Within the next year, however, two babies are born on a stormy night.

Then came Isiaha and Lynoi: the heirs to the throne. One temperamental princess and a powerful prince.

On that stormy night, the woman spoke a verse. Something they would share for years: "I love you."

The orc then repeated the same verse, yet only with a bigger smile and a baby in his arms: "And I love you, my dear."

#monster #monsters #monster boyfriend #monster romance #female protagonist #male love interest #orc #orc romance #stuttering #character with stutter

[lesbianspeedy]

ok please know I’m with you on the obvious of. Yes Mia is ollie’s daughter. really don’t want this question to be taken as a question about that

Why do you think ollie can be somewhat cagey about calling her his daughter? Do you think he’s reluctant to put himself in that relationship because he’s not sure what Mia wants from him, or more because he’s feeling insecure in his ability to be a father after the whole death and resurrection

i mean u did answer ur own question very well here, but to expand on the two points i believe to be most to true character,

ollie doesnt have a great track record with fatherhood, he's already messed up more than he ever wanted to, and though he has since reconciled and made up for those mistakes, he is terrified of repeating them. To quote connor, he's a "wanna-be dad" he loves to take care of kids, thats a through line in pretty much every single era of his, whether its his own like roy or connor, or those he just comes across, like onyx, the kids at the youth centre, even marianne, etc, but as you said he IS insecure in his ability. It is especially hard with mia because, and this leads into the second part;

TW FOR TALK OF CSA

mia does not have a good experience with father figures, or even older men in general, hell just men in general. But for this specifically, her father raped and abused her for years, then when she got out of that, the next adult figure she found, her pimp, did the same. Even AFTER ollie finds her, the other older man she meets is stanley, and she lets herself feel safe there, then he turns out to also want the same thing everyone else did.

ollie is acutely aware of all of this, and he doesnt want to force any kind of expectation of familial dynamic on her, nor does mia expect anything like that. in mia's mind, at least in the beginning, if she does not go to school and help around the centre, she will get kicked out. this of course isnt true but to her she needs to be useful or they'll have no reason to keep her there. she's so unused to father figures just wanting to keep her safe that she instinctually develops a crush on ollie, assuming thats what he wants her there for. this is not the makings of a quick and easy father adopting daughter scenario.

every time mia is hurt, or ollie screws up, he implodes in on himself, its a repeated thing in the run, he shuts down, he doesn't believe in his ability to keep mia safe, but its still better than the alternative.

later on in the run, as mia gets more comfortable, its harder to explain why that relationship never develops fully other than winick just didn't have the chops to write it. but i will say, even with connor and roy's relationship with him very much being father/son, they call him ollie more than they ever do dad. so yknow. take that as you will

#tw rape #tw trafficking #tw abuse #tw csa #tw sa #arrowfam