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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

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141 + König + ale and Rudy railing their fem or gn s/o during a hiking/camping trip under the stars ✨ ⭐️🌟✨⭐️🌟✨

If that’s okay with you ❤️

Thanks for this request!!! I hope this is what you were looking for! I did fem reader for this one, as I'm still trying to learn how to write more GN smut!

141 + König & LV NSFW Blurbs While Camping/ Hiking

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral (f and m receiving) creampie, mutual masturbation

A/N: this is like absolutely 100% pure trashy smut, so read at your own risk🫣

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

You and Simon had the weekend off together and were desperate for a small getaway. A friend of yours had told you of a local camp ground not too far from where you lived, and the two of you decided to spend the weekend there.

You packed up your belongings, and set out in Simon's pickup truck. It didn't take long to get there, and the two of you immediately set up a makeshift bed in the bed of his truck, and spent the day by the lake.

It was late into the night when you both found yourselves looking up into the night sky, laying in the bed of his truck. It was so quiet, the spot you chose being far away from any other person.

You were cuddled into Simon, when you felt his hand slowly slip into the waistband of your pants.

He began to toy with your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves in between his finger tips, causing you to bite back a moan. He watched your expressions intently, and was more than eager to please you.

He situated himself on top of you and began to slowly pull down your pants while pressing soft kisses to the exposed flesh of your abdomen. He pulled off your pants in one fluid motion, leaving you nearly bare to him, the thin fabric of your panties being the only thing keeping your pussy from him.

Simon gave a teasing stare as he settled his head between your legs and began pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs. You felt his hot breath fan against your core and nearly jumped out of your skin when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the fabric.

Your hands flew to his hair as he pulled aside the fabric of your panties and languidly stroked his tongue through your now soaked folds. His eyes maintained contact with yours as he began to lick up and down your heat in slow motion, eliciting a load moan from you.

"That's it, love, no need to keep quiet out here." He cooed into your cunt, before biting at your panties, and pulling them down your legs with his teeth. The sight alone nearly made you cum on the spot.

He gave the inside of your thighs a nip, before shoving his face fully into your pussy, his lips latching onto your clit and sucking with fervor. Your head flew backward, your eyes staring into the night sky as Simon continued to undo you with his mouth alone.

You continued to thread your fingers through his hair as he began to flick your clit with his tongue at a rapid face. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your back began to arch pushing your pussy closer to your lover's face. You were teetering on the edge of an orgasm, the coil in your belly threatening to snap at any moment.

With one final flick of his tongue, your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to shake under Simon's grasp. He moaned into your core as he stayed licking at your folds, determined to get every last drop of your orgasm from you.

"Think you're more than ready for my cock now, don't you?" He asked with a devilish grin, wiping the back of his hand along his mouth. "Let's see how loud I can get you to be."

Alejandro-

You and Alejandro had just spent the day hiking some of the trails of your hometown and were now laying in a tent overlooking a small creek under the night sky.

It wasn't a fairly busy area, so fortunately, the two of you found somewhat of a more reserved area, ideal for what was currently happening with both of you.

Alejandro had been needy all day. The sight of you sweaty had sent him into overdrive, his cock being semi-hard in the confines of his shorts all day. Once you two had set up the tent, he'd pounced on you immediately and tore off both of your clothes in mere seconds.

He peppered your face as he pushed himself into you, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. Your hands flew to his back, raking your nails along his skin there.

His gaze flitted down to your bodies, and watched as he pulled in and out slowly, and let out a small groan at the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole.

He stopped mid thrust as the two of you heard a noise come from outside. His hand came to clamp down across your mouth, giving you a demanding glare. "Silencio, mi amor."

The sounds of people passing by could be heard from inside your tent, but that didn't stop Alejandro. He was giving you a test to see how quiet you could be, with his cock buried inside you.

You bit one of his fingers that covered your mouth as he continued to fuck you slowly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He purred softly, before picking up his pace abruptly, hammering his cock into you.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as his balls began to slap against you, the tip of his cock hitting in all the right places with each jut of his hips. It was becoming near impossible not to make a sound, as his movements ellictied small whimpers from you.

"So close, mi amor." He whispered as he bit into the skin of your earlobe. The people had long passed before he finally removed his hand from your mouth, causing you to let out a loud, guttural moan.

He had a cocky smirk as he leaned back to place your legs on his shoulders, groaning loudly at how deep this new position allowed him to go.

It didn't take long, between the new position and the fucked out look on your face, Alejandro found himself cumming, hard. His toes curled behind him as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his cock still filling you up with his seed.

"Mierda!" He cried out as he regained his senses. He looked down to you to find you in no better state. "We will have to do this more often. I quite like doing this under the stars."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You and Johnny had spent the better part of the day hiking in a patch of woods by your home and had ended up getting rather lost. Johnny was getting rather stressed out, not knowing where to go, and you wanted to do something to help clear his head.

You both made your way to a large tree before stopping to take a break. After taking a brief sip of water, you got on your knees in front of him, your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth as you gave your boyfriend a sultry gaze.

"What are you doing down there, bonnie?" Johnny's brow raised, a devilish grin forming on his lips.

"Nothin'." You giggled as you fumbled with the buckle of his belt, undoing it, followed by the zipper of his pants. "Let me treat you."

Johnny swallowed thickly as he stared down at you, watching in awe as you began to palm at his now hardened cock through his briefs. "B-bonnie, someone will see us."

"Nobody ever comes around here, plus it's getting dark out anyways." You reassured, before running your tongue along his clothed cock. Johnny's eyes squeezed shut as he braced himself on the large tree behind him.

You began to pull down his boxers, freeing him from his confines, and immediately latched your hand onto his erection. Johnny let out a loud groan, and his hands made their way to your head, guiding your mouth to his member.

You licked your lips before wrapping them around the tip of Johnny's cock. You began slow movements, only taking half of him in your mouth, as you watched his facial expressions intently.

Johnny couldn't help the load moans that emitted from him. You were always so good at this. His grip in your hair tightened as you took him further in your mouth, his tip touching the back of your throat. His hips instinctively bucked from your movements, causing him to push himself fully into your mouth, gagging you.

Saliva began to pool from your mouth as you pressed your fingers into his thighs, taking him completely each time you bobbed your head. Johnny didn't care who'd hear him at this point, the only thoughts filling his mind was that of your pretty little lips wrapped around his cock.

You began to fondle his balls as your eyes closed, fully concentrating on helping Johnny find his high. Your other hand moved to the plump flesh of his ass as you pushed him as deep as he could go in your throat before gaging obscenely against him.

Johnny tugged on your hair, a sign he was nearing his end when you continued to deep throat him as best you could. He'd given a reflexive thrust of his hips, and when you'd gagged once more against him, it sent him over the edge. His orgasm rushed through him, causing him to spill into the back of your throat.

You pulled away with a POP and swallowed before giving Johnny a smile. He leaned back on the tree to take a breather, as you helped him get dressed. "Thanks, bonnie."

You gave a nod before placing a kiss on his cheek. "Pretty night sky."

He looked up and saw the stars before looking back down to you. "We've got to find our way back, babe. I don't even know where to go. Thank God for some of these lights out here."

"Is it a bad time to mention I've known where to go all along?" You asked with a sly smirk.

"You naughty fucking minx."

John Price-

John felt himself drooling slightly, as the view of your ass in the leggings you were wearing had his cock hardening in his pants. The two of you had been on this trail for hours, as it was known for the best views of the night skies. He made his way to you quickly, desperate to take care of the growing issue in his pants.

John pushed you up against a tree before palming at your ass through your pants. "Be a good girl and let daddy fuck you, eh? I've been staring at this ass of yours all afternoon, and it caused a little problem."

You let out a small moan, your fingers digging into the bark of the tree in front of you. "Someone will hear us."

John pulled down your pants roughly, exposing your weeping cunt to him. He gave a dark chuckle as he pulled out his painfully hard cock, fisting it a few times. He rubbed the tip of him along your folds, gathering up some of your arousal before sheathing himself fully within your velvety walls. "Be as loud as you want, baby. Nobody will hear you out here."

"John!" You cried out, your fingers gripping tighter on the tree as your eyes squeezed shut. He didn't give you much time to adjust before he began slamming his cock into you feverishly.

At first, the only thing that could be heard was the slapping of his skin against yours and the rustling of leaves. That was until John had reached his hand around in front of you, and began to circle at your clit vigously.

You screamed out, your vision becoming white as pleasure washed over you. John was always a rough lover, but always made sure you were fulfilled. His grunts had started to grow louder, as the tip of his cock began to kiss your cervix.

"Fuck baby girl, cum with daddy, yeah?" He asked as your walls began to tighten around him. He began to pound into you with fervor, the only thing on his mind being the two of you's highs. His fingers didn't relent, as they continued to circle at your clit matching the speed of his thrusts.

You gave a loud mewl as your orgasm tore through you, your nails digging so hard into the tree bark you broke skin. John wasn't far behind as he'd given a few lazy thrusts before unloading inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that a moment, attempting to catch your breaths as you both looked at the stars above you.

John looked to you to see you still staring at the sky. He bent down on his knees before parting your thighs. "Keep looking at those pretty stars, baby. Let Daddy clean up our mess."

König-

You and König had taken the weekend to do a small camping trip at one of the many camp grounds in Austria. It was the middle of fall, so the place had been pretty desolate, giving you and König plenty of alone time, away from prying eyes.

It was the last night there, as the two of you huddled around a small campfire König had conjured. You were wrapped in your boyfriend's arms when you glanced up at him. He'd looked unbearably handsome to you in that moment, the warm glow of the fire highlighting his striking features.

You grabbed at the base of his neck, pulling him to you as you placed your lips to his in a bruising kiss. He grunted softly against your mouth before laying you down on the blanket below him. The kiss had grown heated as his mouth moved from yours to latch on your neck.

He pulled away for just a moment to gaze into your eyes. "Are you sure? Don't want someone to overhear us."

"There's nobody close enough, and if there is by chance, let them hear." You replied, your eyes flitting back to his lips.

König chuckled before moving his hands to your clothes, removing everything until you were bare before him. It didn't take long for him to discard his own either before he climbed back over on top of you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

He captured your lips in his as he pushed his way into your sopping cunt, groaning loudly as your walls hugged him tightly. "Scheisse."

The feeling of his thick cock protruding your walls, mixed with the feeling of the hot fire near to you had your mind in a haze, unable to form any coherent thoughts. "Kö."

He waited until you'd adjusted before setting a rather quick pace. He had quite an amount of girth to him, and it rarely failed to get you off.

He grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head as your legs wrapped around his midsection. He began to thrust at a deeper angle, allowing him to hit your sweet spot within your walls.

You let out a loud wail as your eyes squeezed shut and your toes curled. König growled at the sound, the noise you made, causing him to pound into you at an insatiable pace.

He felt his orgasm rapidly approaching as your walls hugged his cock, and you could feel each and every vein of him as he continued his movements.

With one final harsh jut of his hips, the two of you had both reached your highs at the same time, eliciting loud vulgar sounds from each of you.

As the two of you caught your breaths, Königs eyes brightened with excitement as he caught sight of a deer just a few feet away from the two of you. "Maus! Look!"

You followed his gaze and found the deer peacefully eating some of the grass before chuckling to yourself at the innocence of your lover. "I love you, Kö."

Rodolfo-

It was a beautiful night out in Las Almas, and you and Rodolfo were tucked away in a small cabin in the woods, far away from civilization.

The two of you had been quite stressed lately, with the state of Las Almas and other factors, so you thought a small getaway was ideal to help lessen some of the stress.

You both were currently lying on the deck of the cabin, watching out at the night sky when you'd grown rather restless. Rodolfo had noticed this, and turned his gaze to you. "You okay, cariño?"

You nodded, not taking your eyes from the sky. "My minds just wandering again."

Rodolfo gave a chuckle before turning his body to face you, his fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. "Let me help you take your mind off it then."

He fiddled with the button of your jeans before pulling them down your legs slightly. His fingers ghosted your heat through your panties, pleasantly surprised to find you already wet for him. He slipped his fingers underneath your underwear, and slid down your folds slowly.

Rodolfo watched your face as he inserted his two of his fingers into your heat, pumping them lazily, the tips of his fingers pushing against your velvety walls.

You turned your head to him, letting out a guttural moan before slipping your own hand into his pants.

Your fingers grabbed blindly for his cock, and wrapped your fingers around it, stroking it languidly. He let out a hiss as the pad of your thumb swiped across his tip, collecting the precum that had gathered there. You turned to him, locking eyes, before bringing the finger to your mouth and licking it clean.

He groaned loudly at the sight before beginning to scissor his fingers within your walls. Your hand squeezed lightly at his cock from the feeling, and began to twist at it, pumping it slowly.

"Mind clear yet, babe?" He asked, a devious smirk on his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Your mind became a haze as he continued his movements, picking the pace ever so slightly. He began to curl his fingers with each stroke, prompting you to arch your back slightly.

As he felt you walls tighten around his fingers, he pulled them out abruptly before licking them clean.

You shook your head with a smile. "I think I may need something a bit bigger to help out."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You and Kyle had been together for only a few months, and he was set to go on a two month deployment within the next few days. Desperate for a small getaway with you, as a way to escape the world, he booked a weekend getaway at his family's camp grounds in the mountains.

The two of you, a bit tipsy from a few glasses of champagne, were currently sitting on a small blanket you'd set out to watch the night sky. You'd grown rather horny from the alcohol, and found yourself palming at your boyfriend's semi hard cock.

He'd let out little mewls of encouragement, so you'd moved to straddle his waist, helping him of discarding his garments. You moved down his waist as you'd ripped off his pants and boxers, licking your lips at the sight of your boyfriend's now rock-hard length.

You climbed back on top of him, a sultry gaze lining your features. You fisted his cock a few times before lining yourself up with him, and sliding down onto him.

"Fuckkkkkinggg shit." Kyle groaned, louder than usual. This was one of the first times the two of you had sex somewhere that wasn't one of your flats, where had been a habitual concern.

You took his hand and guided it to your breast, moaning loudly when he began to massage at the flesh there. "Ky."

You rolled your hips as you sat yourself back down on him, and Kyle's head threw back in pleasure. "Faster, baby please."

Unable to deny him anything, you did as he asked. You placed two of your hands on his chest as you leaned forward slightly, before slamming yourself up and down the length of his cock.

The two of you continued to moan loudly, feeling utterly free now to do so. Your nails dug into his abdomen in an attempt to ground yourself as you continued to chase your high on top of him.

Kyle became a babbling mess underneath you as he squeezed at your thighs, his eyes rolling back into his head. You picked up your pace, full on bouncing on his cock now, your walls beginning to clench down on him as you neared your orgasm.

Sweat began to form on your brow from the exertion, and Kyle's grip on your thighs became bruising as he neared his own high.

With a few more lazy rolls of your hips, both of your orgasms rippled through you, causing you both to cry out loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You collapsed against him, you breathing beginning to slow as he pressed loving kisses to your sweaty brow. "I love you, Kyle."

"I love you too, Y/N."

Needless to say, neither one of you wanted to leave the next morning.

A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope my smuts improved at least a little😬🫣

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minas-linkverse · 7 months

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Happy Halloween! I figured this would be a good excuse to draw a niche au nobody asked for: Dont Starve x LV 🎃I think the gang could survive the constant but I think they deserve better than to end up there.

Additional notes below:

I came up with some character traits they could have in game. I didn't really consider balance though. (Also I just kind of took aspects of already existing characters and taped them on top of the gang, oop.)

Sky - Birds don't get afraid of him, but he loses sanity when killing them. Gets bonuses from sleeping.

Twi - He has a hound curse which allows him to transform into a hound. It's a lonely life though, as it doesn't make npc hounds any less hostile. It does however let him dig, hunt and howl. Different magic items let him transform to different kinds of hounds.

Wild - Bigger starting inventory, starts with a broken sheikah slate that can be fixed with gears to unlock more funky skills. He is also a lovely cook.

Time - Can reverse taken damage by playing the ocarina, as well as make things grow and change the weather. With later game items he can craft masks to transform into different useful forms like a merm or a pig.

Legend - Has a special connection with bunnymen and starts with magical rings.

Ravio - Lower max health, but starts with an albino Glommer named Sheerow that can help pick up items and harvest things. Can craft a big bag of holding that has a lot of inventory space but it's slightly randomized what you can access every time you open it.

Wind- He starts with the wind waker which allows him to push mobs away or pull them closer. He also gains sanity when near water

Mini - Has the ability to shrink which lowers speed but makes enemy attacks miss even without dodging at times. When small, eating increases more at once. However it can't be triggered just on and off again all the time.

#Don't Starve #Don't Starve Together #DST #Linkverse #Sky #Twilight #Wild #Time #Legend #Ravio #Wind #Minish

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taylorswiftstyle · 9 months

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Out to dinner at Zero Bond | New York City, NY | August 17, 2023

Jennifer Zeuner 'Tasha' Earrings' - $154.00 Ancosti 'Patchwork Cap Sleeve Maxi Dress' - $150.00 Jacquie Aiche 'Rainbow Aura Quartz Necklace' - $6,000.00 Louis Vuitton 'Camera Box Bag' - $3,450.00 The Row 'Robin Booties' - $1,680.00

There's something quite Renaissance meets Disney princess in an autumnal wood meets modern trend look to this outfit. Which is to say that its mix of aesthetics to create something uniquely, delightfully 'off' but wonderful is what makes it a quintessential Taylor look.

In particular, the combination of a smaller indie brand like Ancosti, with a designer bag, and a trend-forward piece like a chunky sole boot is the embodiment of Taylor's personal approach to fashion - a blend that is her own.

Speaking of the designer bag, Taylor is not a stranger to an LV monogram print bag. But this particular one - from the Fall 2023 runway - is her smallest so far. Her first was a larger tote from a limited collaboration with Christian Louboutin back in 2015. The second was a boxier 'Cruiser' she wore during some whirlwind summer travel in 2016. Here, she downsizes to a cute pocket-sized bag with the added refreshing factor of the contrast Reverse Monogram colourway that I think ties in neatly to the autumnal palette going on. And yes, I'm a proponent of mixing black and brown.

In the case of the black in this outfit - in a past life, Taylor may have worn this dress with flat, knee high boots. Or sky high nude pumps. Or two tone brogues (maybe a cream and cognac brown combo?). But here we see a nod to todays trends with a heavy, black, chunky sole stomp-worthy boot. Proof of the power of styling and accessorizing to truly change a look completely.

#taylor swift #candid #dress #jewelry #bag #shoe #jennifer zeuner #jacquie aiche #louis vuitton #september 2023

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clavissionary-position · 16 days

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(Translation) Azel's Favorite Place [Lv. 4 Bond Story]

— Azel's Bond Stories (best read in order) — Lv. 2 First Impression ✦ Lv. 6 Hobbies ✦ Lv. 8 Type of Women ✦ Lv. 10 About Tanzanite

Azel: I see no benefit in telling you about my usual spot. First of all, didn’t I say that we’re incompatible?

Azel: ...No, well... Even if you go and get tearful over something like that… [Sigh] ...What a pain you are.

Azel: Fiiine! Having a small chat should be fine, right? —[Annoyed grumble] And of course the second I say that, you go right back to normal.

Choices 1) Is it the desert? 2) Is it the temple? 3) Are you a recluse?

> Is it the desert?

Azel: Do I LOOK like I have frequent business in the desert? It’s not like I’m some merchant.

Azel: Hm, although... If I had to say anything, sometimes I do go out into the desert to view the stars. The night sky out there spectacular. I love it.

> Is it the temple?

Azel: Managed to hit it with a random guess, huh. That's right, I'm usually based at the temple. It's a run-down temple, however.

> Are you a recluse?

Azel: [Genuinely astonished] What kind of thinking led to that? That’s so outlandish that I’m actually more interested in the thought process now.

Azel: Let’s hear your arguments. Give me a convincing explana… Hold it! Don’t try to leave just because you think it's a pain!

After the choices section

Azel: [Sigh] But where’s the fun in hearing about me? It won't be of any use to you either.

Azel: This is why it’s so difficult to understand impulsive, emotionally-driven creatures.

Azel: Don’t start with those crappy crocodile tears again. I already know you’re faking. [Cuts off]…Why aren’t you looking up? [Starting to panic] You’re faking, right?

---------- Disclaimer: I’m neither a translator nor fluent, so accuracy is not guaranteed. Please be aware that I use online translators. Notifications on my Azel posts are muted, but I hope you enjoy learning about him.

#ikemen prince #azel radwan #ikepri translation folder

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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 month

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Healthcare Quotes!

(dark humor)

Four: My patient really needs a liver transplant. I want tonight to be the night he gets it. Legend: What’s your blood type? Four, rolling his eyes: Not my liver. I want to see him recover and all! Sky: That would be the fastest way to procure it, though. The ultimate sacrifice for your patient. Truly being a patient advocate. Legend: Let us know when you off yourself and we’ll give it like six minutes so you can be properly brain dead and all. Four, huffing: How about Warriors? He’s strong, healthy— Sky: Nah, he drinks too much, you don’t want his liver. Wars: >:O I DO NOT Legend: *wheezing*

…

Mo: *coughing* Hyrule: You good? Mo: I’m dying Aurora: None of that crap until the shift is over, we’ve had enough call outs tonight! Mo, sadly: Aw man

…

Warriors: *exiting a patient’s room laughing* Legend: What’s so funny? Wars: This dude has the absolute best insults ever. Legend: Who was he insulting? Wars: Me, because he didn’t get his water fast enough, but man was it amazing. Legend, interested now: So what did he call you?? Warriors, smirking evilly: You’ll never know. Legend: Wha—YOU CANT LEAD ME ON AND THEN LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THAT

…

Twilight, staring into the void: Ilia: What’s wrong? Twi: The girl in 15 said I couldn’t play with her ponies because I wasn’t cool enough. Ilia, biting back laughter: That’s rough, buddy

…

Wild: This one teenager I was transporting to MRI said I was so bad at directions I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag. Twilight: She ain’t wrong. Wind: Did you say anything back? Wild: I said “Actually I can, animal control tried to use a bag to catch me and I found my way out of it just fine.” Twi, sighing: I can believe it

…

Time, stopping a surgical resident from doing something: That is what we call an artery. When I said don’t kill the patient, I meant don’t kill the patient. Since you were about to cut the artery, I think we need a lesson really quickly on what does and does not kill a patient. Time: For example. Bleeding to death leads to dying. I know this might be hard for you to understand but— Malon: *narrows eyes, raises eyebrow* Time:…But I understand you’re still learning.

…

Fable: Yeah, so she was supposed to get a mini-MVR, they perfed her LV, then they fixed that and her papillary muscles tore, then they tried to fix that and she got a VSD, so they just put her on ECMO and balloon pump and shipped her to us. Wild: What does—what?? Time: Her heart woke up and chose violence. Or her surgeon did, I’m not sure which.

#lu in healthcare #quotes #incorrect quotes #skye time travels through the queue

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madiealexa · 9 months

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#red rock #nv #lv #nevada #snow #sky #blue #clouds

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wixxid · 2 months

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IVORY · PART lV

Fandom: Dune

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Female OC

Words: 2,020

Warnings: dark and sexual themes, dub/con, non/con, and arranged marriage.

Summary: The ceremony is concluded, and now the inevitable.

You feel it.

The storm of thunder that brews within your body. Its rain trickles down to prickle at the insides of your soft belly; swelling you slowly with a liverish fever. The sickness it stirs makes you feel crippled and vulnerable.

Weak.

The ceremony lasted longer than anticipated, but not long enough. Time moved with unprecedented speed, and with each moment that past, the more you grew cold and bitter with resentment.

A terrible spite.

Standing in the center of the large tub, the servants bathe you with milky water; as if you're a meal in need of preparation. Woefully, it allows your thoughts to explode with dread; much like the black viscous blasts they'd let loose into the sky.

Wiping at your flesh, they remove the black markings that'd adorned your skin. The ink mixes with the creme colored water, swirling like two separate entities. Glancing towards the closed door, you wonder if they're waiting on the other side.

Anticipating.

Despite your ties to two of the most formidable families in the known universe, you're still left powerless. Defeated. There are no words or actions that could stave off the inevitable; not even the powers of the Benne Gesserit.

It's forbidden.

Brought back to reality, the servant waits for you with a cotton gown. You're hesitant to move; more so paralyzed. Stepping from the tub with a watery slosh, you're dried and powdered before being allowed the comfort of the gown.

Knuckles turn white from tightened fists at your sides. All too quickly, the door opens to reveal your awaited room; neat and still lingering with smoke. As you'd suspected, the witnesses have already arrived; a total of five who stand in a line to the side.

You don't know who they are and neither do you wish to discover their identity. The imperial court has deemed them important enough and necessary. Watching them as they stand silent and shrouded, you can only surmise by their bodies alone that its a mixture of men and women.

The spectators don't speak and neither do the servants, whom hurry from your room; fleeing like creatures from impending danger. Staring at the bed, you can't help but feel a sense of detachment at the site. It's equally as uninviting as when you'd first slept within its covers.

Turning with a slow shuffle of your bare feet, a deathly chill travels up into every limb and nerve of your body; raising the hairs on your skin. Neurotic. The room is dimmer and smaller than you remember, despite it remaining the same.

The world is closing in on you.

Gripping your gown, you suddenly wince with a grit of your jaw. The soft soak of the bath and pressure had been enough to split the fresh wound. But just as your palm began to weep with fresh blood, the door to your room opens.

Feyd-Rautha.

He enters with slow yet deliberate steps, like a predator entering its den. Haphazardly he eyes the witnesses before turning his attention to you. Taking a slight step back, you're smart to keep quiet and remain at a distance.

It's been some time since you parted ways in preparation, but still he wears the same clothing; black leather and an embossed jacket. Feyd draws nearer, darkened eyes flickering up and down. You've nothing to say and neither does he.

Static.

He reaches up, flicking a piece of your hair from your shoulder. The Harkonnen seems less than impressed, rather unenthused of his need to be here. Foolishly, you wonder if you truly are unconventional enough to repulse the man.

"Look at you," he grumbles beneath his breath.

The feral look he's giving you could kill; cold and merciless. His hand moves upward, and you have to refrain your urge to move away. Rough fingertips graze lightly at the cotton fabric at your collar; slowly wandering onto your soft skin.

You smack his hand away, "Enough."

The syllable is low but defiant. A last stand to protect yourself from his torment and cruelty. An act of instinct. Feyd doesn't retaliate as he simply lowers his hand. The calm before the storm.

In an instant, his hands are on you; calloused fingers wrapping around your delicate throat with constriction. He has your body pulled flush against his, whilst your faces remain mere inches from one another. His breath fans across your cheek.

"Do you feel that?" he questions, as you struggle to swallow. Your hands clasp around his own, desperately trying to relieve the pressure. "That's your life, in my hands."

"Stop," you wince; eyes flickering to the witnesses.

"Don't bother," he utters at your train of site. "They're here for one thing."

Reaching down to his side, Feyd retrieves a small dagger. The tip of the blade stills mere inches from your face. Staring at the glistening reflection, you cease all kinds of movement; even your strangled breaths.

Death glints at you.

Keeping the blade just above the surface of your skin, he trails it over your chin and down the nape of your neck. Any wrong move could see your throat slit. Grimly, you even go so far as to envision him plunging it into your belly; spilling your insides to the ground.

He could start a war.

Instead, he hooks the blade into the collar of your cotton gown, cutting it down in one swift tear of fabric. The opposite edge of the dagger runs coolly down your skin, from sternum to naval. Splitting the clothing from your body, he reveals your nakedness.

Supple and pure.

Pushing you with a quick shove to your chest, you fall back onto the bed; whatever breath left in your lungs now gone. Stars glitter in the corner of your eyes; a flash of life, as you're yet to comprehend reality.

"Stay," he orders.

Clutching your chest, the pound of your heart causes you to feel equally disturbed and deficient. The lonely organ skips and hammers and for a second you feel faint. The air slowly seeps back into your lungs, but you're aren't able to take the reprieve.

Inhaling a gasp, you're dragged down by the ankle; sheets burning your skin with its friction. He's formidable. The brute stands at the end of the bed, pale torso now bare; the black lines which mark his chest now in view.

Pulling your ankle from his grip, you can't help but move to protect yourself; shaky legs crossing and hands reaching for the cover of twisted sheets. In the corner of your eye, you take notice of the smudges of blood from you sliced palm; splotching the linen like an arena.

"I've seen lesser than you with better, Atreides."

The added insult sparks a flare of anger. A trap you fall for. Lashing out, you sit up to strike him cross the face; only for the man to grin with a lowly chuckle. The force of your blow had been enough to split his lower lip.

"You're sick," you seethe, whilst he licks the blood with a swipe of his tongue. Feyd's piercing eyes stare without shame. "Psychotic."

He draws closer and your muscles tense at the proximity. Grabbing onto your arms, you struggle and fail as he handles you like a ragdoll. Pinning you down with such ease, he demonstrates your inferiority in bodily power.

"Weak," he states pointedly.

You can barely move beneath his weight; muscled body bearing down on you like an immoveable object. It's force is crushing and humiliating, and again, your heart races beneath your chest. Feyd-Rautha's game of torment and mockery is over.

Forcing his body between your shaky thighs, the rough fabric of his pants chafes against your sensitive skin. You turn away from his gaze, but it does it does nothing when you know how dangerously close he is to you; breathing the same air, feeling each other.

You can smell him.

Lying trapped, you become caught in a moral dilemma to either defend or surrender. You want it to be over and done, but you also want to sleep at night; to be able to tell yourself you fought back. That you tried to stop it.

Clutching onto the sheets, your fingers interlock with the fabric in an attempt to find comfort and stability; a way to release your fear. The distant wall in your line of site is grey and uninviting, but the shelf pressed against it holds an item; one you'd brought from home.

The bull statue.

A representation of your family legacy. The Atreides approach to that of a dangerous circumstance. Your father had given it to you when you were a child, as a means to always remind you of who you really are in this vast world.

"Look at me," he goads while taking hold of your chin. "Look at me."

The longer you try to avert your gaze, the more his bruising grip digs punishingly into your jaw. Eventually, your watery eyes are forced to lock together; like two apposing forces, collapsing in on one another. You didn't know it, but he wanted to see the look in your eye; to see it all.

The pain.

The suffering.

When he takes what last bit of yourself remains untouched. He's already hard and free between yours legs, pushing against your womanhood. Your eyes widen with panic, not having realised until he's already forcing himself inside of you; obliterating your womb.

Straining beneath him, a sharp gasps ruins the air of silence. Abrupt. Relentless. He buries himself within you, over and over again. Stretching and tearing. Filling you in a way you couldn't imagine.

You swallow and moan.

The words you want to scream can hardly form. They're trapped in the back of your swollen throat; buried beneath garbled sounds. You push and hit against his toned chest, but he keeps you down despite your protest.

Uncontrollably, your stomach tightens in reaction to the affliction, as do your legs around his waist; trembling but numb. Every hard thrust impels another sound from your lips, while you're body can't help but jolt at the force.

It's been minutes, hours, eternity in your world. He keeps going with vigor and slowly you begin to break. Frozen beneath him, entangled in sheets and invisible shackles, you grow exhausted. The smell of blood overcomes the chard incense.

It stains the sheets, your skin and his; stuck beneath your fingernails and wet on his lip. It's nauseating. A low growl emits from the depth of his chest as he takes hold of your burning throat again; fingers tightening with purpose.

An inaudible sound strangles from you mouth. You look right up at him, a monster of mayhem. Harkonnen. The last few thrusts are slow, but deep and deliberate as he finishes inside of you. A torture now bitterly seeded and done.

Feyd's eyes flutter every so slightly, and with a light huff he looks you over. Even now, he appears indifferent. Pulling out of you, your quiver at the sting and emptiness, while breaths draw uneasily as he removes himself from the bed.

You're cold and naked. Sore and ruined. Staring up at the ceiling, you're drawn back to the harshness of reality. You remember now, that the witness are still here in the room; still silent as they watched his brutality unfold.

You might've felt something akin to shame, if it weren't for the flare of pain that now consumes your body. It all hurts, no matter where you think. Pulling your legs up, you can't help but ball yourself in the middle of the bed.

Feyd is neither quick nor slow to arrange himself. Shrugging on his leather jacket, he doesn't bother doing it up all the way. His chest remains exposed with the superficial scratches you'd clawed across his flesh.

You see him carelessly eye the witnesses before leaving the room. Not a parting word for either you or them. A blur of tears threaten to spill, but they're quickly absorbed by rage and humiliation. A malicious wall of stone surrounds you.

"Out!" you suddenly scream at the witnesses. "Get out!"

#fanfic #female oc #dune #dune part two #dune 2024 #story #feyd #feyd rautha #feyd x female oc #house harkonnen #feyd-rautha x female oc #feyd x you #Atreides!Female OC

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dr3amscap3 · 7 months

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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒┊𝐕𝐈𝐋. 𝐒

┊Vil Schoenheit x Reader ┊Angst ┊” But I’m not yours... “ ┊CW : Angst, Unrequited Love ┊Note: for those conan gray likers iykyk ┊Word Count: 350

Perhaps it was the way you gazed at him as the two of you walked under the sweet comfort of the night sky.

Perhaps it was the way you took his hands in yours and gently caressed them as if he were porcelain.

Perhaps it was the way he wished he was yours.

Vil loved you, with all his heart and the rest of his being. Vil loved you and he knew you loved him too. Vil loved you, and it hurts, it burns his melancholic heart to love you. Vil loved you, and he regrets leaving you every single day.

Vil loved you, but he is not the one you deserve, he knows you deserve better than a scorned queen.

Vil loved you, but he is not Neige LeBlanche, and he will never amount to be anything like him.

Vil loved you, and he knows you used to love him too, but now the gazes he loved so dearly fall onto another man, a man that you now call yours. The man that you call yours will never be Vil again instead it is the hero to his villain, instead the man you call yours is Neige LeBlanche.

And instead of fighting for you, instead of giving fifteen dozen roses, instead of begging at your door for you to take him back, he learns to say goodbye.

Yes, his heart will weep and shatter but he knows that your days are filled with laughter. It may not be with him as the source but he knows that time has already taken its course.

Vil loved you, and still forevermore he would continue to give you all you want, be it the stars in the sky or the moon itself.

Vil loved you, he yearns for your gaze and your touch, but he knows that you are not his anymore, and he is not yours.

Vil loved you, in fact, he continues to love you every single day despite the unfairness of it all.

Vil loves you, he always has, and always will. But you are not his, and he is not yours.

I had motivation randomly idk man - Mika

Tags : @gingeywolfey @luxaryllis @raix-lv @ruru-kiss @blankescapades @deimospheres @gh0stbastard @kiriesdreamworld @hmmmmmm-give-me-your-gender

strikethrough = Cannot tag

#twst #twst angst #twisted wonderland #angst #vil schoenheit x reader #twst vil #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit angst #twisted wonderland vil #neige leblanche #unrequited love #—Mika Writes ✧#vil twisted wonderland #vil twst #pomefiore #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland

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boundinparchment · 5 months

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Dream a Little Dream of Me - LV

Celestia had a cruel sense of humor. He knew this, even before his days as a student. But to be given a soulmate? Now, when he openly blasphemed against the cursed island in the sky? He would outlive you and the dreadful fated bond that haunted your shared dreams. There was little point in this. He could at least put a Vision to good use. People were nothing but disappointments. He had no use for you. Until you pulled the bow across your instrument and awoke a part of him long buried by self-hatred and arrogance. Soulmate AU; Il Dottore/Female reader w/ established personality and backstory. Slow burn. Lore and world speculation and interpretation within; follows canon story where possible. Fic is rated explicit; MDNI. Mind the tags. Chapter on AO3 here. MC's dress || Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich, performed by The Dixie String Quartet is on the Spotify playlist.

You nestled the last pin in your hair and admired your handiwork in the vanity for a moment. Perfect. Nothing would interfere with your mask nor felt uncomfortable.

In the mirror, your eyes flickered to the doorway to your dressing room, where Zandik leaned against the doorframe halfway dressed. He’d been there ever since you began working on your hair, suspenders dangling, only moving his head to momentarily look at something else. Some might have found such moments unnerving, this habit of his to watch and look and listen; for you, his presence was akin to a hug or a kiss on the forehead. Just another demonstration of his affection.

Tonight, you would go without the extra headpieces to conceal yourself. Hiding your hair would only draw more attention, after all, and you were already at the mercy of entering the ball alongside Zandik.

To do anything else, such as enter apart but spend the rest of the evening with him, would only bring more questions.

Hiding you, shielding you and keeping you to himself made sense, once upon a time. Deep down, you were certain Zandik still wanted to. There was a flatness in his bottom lip about the topic and he often held you tighter when you were alone, savoring the private intimacy.

But he, of all people, knew the importance of freedom, of recognizing one’s true nature.

Make-up and hair finished, you rose from the vanity and made your way to the door. You pressed a hand against his chest, his once-soft dark navy shirt stiff under your touch from being starched and ironed. As you cupped his cheek, absently noticing his lack of earring, Zandik turned his head and took your hand in his, reverently pressing a kiss to your palm before his lips hovered over your pulse.

“Go finish getting ready, mon rêve.”

Zandik pursed his lips slightly, lowering his head before he pointedly kissed your wrist again and closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to go. It didn’t take being his soulmate to figure that out. Anyone of his caliber would prefer to be working and making progress over social formalities. As often as he carved out time for you, be it dinner or a training session or simply a quiet evening reading while you played, he sent letters explaining a delay or a missed meal.

“Am I not allowed to savor you?” he asked, his breath tickling your skin. “Before the trappings of formalities take us both?”

You certainly couldn’t argue with that.

He lingered only a second longer before a knock at the door broke the moment like a hammer to a mirror. Zandik gritted his pointed teeth, baring them for a second in a frustrated snarl, as he turned his attention to the sound.

“About time...took long enough...”

You parted, grazing your fingertips across his cheek in apology, and he left to address the interruption.

Left to your own devices, you closed your dressing room door and finished getting ready.

At first, you hadn’t been certain about the lace you picked out on a whim. Columbina sweetly terrorized the shopkeeper so you could browse in peace. Most colors would potentially show through the gown, leaving you with only a few options. The handwoven material was soft against your thighs and waist, the garter belt straps far easier to use than the ones you recalled from home (although perhaps that was simply the benefit of handmade anything).

It felt strange to be without a corset but the dress draped over you and took care of the structure and shape, as discussed with the seamstress. The neckline was twisted and asymmetrical, a swath of fabric covering your left shoulder while your right was bare, save a single strap as delicate as spider’s silk. Your back was bare down to the dip of your waist where a short train fell and pooled behind you.

The dress shimmered and sparkled with the faintest blush. It passed for a soft white, the slightest contrast to Zandik’s crisp and cool preferences.

Your satin heels were simple, as were your earrings. By other standards, including the Tsaritsa’s, you appeared quite plain. But anything beyond the mask in your hand felt excessive, given its prominence.

When you emerged, Zandik was in the sitting room, dressed and idly twirling something between his fingers. He wore mostly white, with the exception of a light blue satin waistcoat, cinched, and a blue and white feather pinned at his lapel. The usual gem worn in his harness was pinned to the center of his white cravat. His inanimate mechanical bird rested over his shoulders, shrouding him in a mantle of feathers. You caught a flash of light blue in the tails of his coat as they curved and fell past his knees.

His lips moved but you didn’t quite catch the sounds he made, the words foreign and low as his ears burned pink. For effect, you gave a small twirl, and it was impossible to miss the sensation of his eyes skimming across your bare back.

“I take it you like it, then?” you said, smiling softly.

Zandik closed the distance between you with slow steps and stopped only when he was just in front of you.

“You look like crystal stardust,” he replied after a beat, lips grazing your forehead. “Similar to when you activate your Vision in a fight. Quite striking.”

He took your hands in his and you felt warm metal slide over your ring finger. When he pulled away, you looked down and found a rectangular aquamarine roughly the size of your last knuckle.

“Zandik, what…”

“I did say it was not the Tsaritsa’s place to determine what jewelry you wore. A ring seemed...efficient. Wouldn’t get in the way of you playing but be enough of a conventional statement to keep others at bay.”

He took your hand in his and ran his gloved thumb over the edge of the stone. It glowed softly, similar to his absent earring and the various ornaments he wore almost daily.

“Whenever I think of you, it glows. It should also be able to carry short messages but that hasn’t been thoroughly tested.”

The glow faded slowly, reluctantly. Zandik let go of your hand and reached into his inner jacket pocket, seeking something.

“I modified the communications technology I used elsewhere. Gemstones prove more...difficult than liquids such as primordial seawater or Irminsul sap, naturally.”

“Presumably, it has a partner?” you asked, eyes flicking from his hand to his face.

You were rewarded with a raised eyebrow. “I can never surprise you anymore, can I?”

His mouth softened into a smile as he found what he was looking for. Zandik extended his hand and you reached out to pick up the cylindrical topaz earring, clear and without inclusions, the perfect shade of golden yellow.

Your power, you, in place of...

Zandik angled his head and you fed the wire through the piercing, securing it when it was seated properly. The curling tendril of his bangs wrapped around it. It didn’t look as out of place as expected, given the golden accents of his suit, but it would be striking for those who knew his usual appearance.

Last night’s dance swam in your head, overriding any remaining anxiety as the topaz in turn began to light up from within.

“Can’t surprise me? Absolutely not true and you know it,” you whispered.

Please with himself, he threw you a playful grin before he slid his mask into place. You did the same, fussing with the straps in hopes your hair wouldn’t be ruined.

Hand in the crook of his arm, the two of you made your way downstairs, ready to get this over with.

Formality dictated that, given you were not publicly known nor the spouse of the Second Harbinger, you were to enter the ball unescorted as any other guest. But Zandik was not one for convention and his enjoyment at the expressions on his colleagues faces was palpable as you descended the stairs together and joined the awaiting Arlecchino, Columbina, and another man with white hair and a single visible eye.

“You’re on time, Doctor. It’s a comfort to know someone can tear you away from that workshop of yours,” the white-haired stranger said.

He approached, his figure as imposing as the Captain’s from what you recalled. Even Zandik had to adjust his neck to look at the other man.

The introduced himself as Pierro and you curtsied, the gesture ingrained in your muscles; in turn, you received warm lips on your knuckles.

“I have not yet had the time to watch you play, as most of my subordinates and Her Majesty have. But hardly a day goes by without your music gracing the halls and I look forward to hearing what you’ve composed.”

“Thank you, Lord Harbinger,” you replied, reminding yourself to soften your smile.

“You’re familiar with the room’s layout, where the orchestra is set up, your cue?”

“Yes, I am, sir.”

He nodded, offered a kind smile, and then said something to Zandik in a tongue you’d never heard before. Your partner clicked his tongue, ears pink, and you caught something pass over Pierro’s expression when he thumped Zandik on the back twice.

“He was the stranger in the desert,” Zandik supplied quietly as Pierro walked away. “One of the few who can say they’ve seen my...evolution, so to speak.”

The rest of the gathering was a blur. Columbina hovered behind you, head on your shoulder as she asked Alecchino if the fabric of your dress was something she should consider next. You suppressed a shudder as you recalled the Third’s kaleidoscope eyes and tried to pair them with a fabric that looked like liquid stardust.

“You certainly would be able to hide not wearing shoes, my dove,” Arlecchino conceded.

To Zandik, the Knave said, “Interesting change, Doctor. I never thought gold was your color.”

“Of course it is, Arl,” Columbina chimed in. “It’s not like Regrator has a monopoly on a color. Besides, our Doctor looks quite healthy now, wouldn’t you say? A little less sallow? Happy, even?”

Zandik let a breath out of his nose. “Is that so?”

You stifled a laugh and were thankful that, not long after, you followed the expected protocol and found yourself in the center of the ball room. You weren’t the only guest (Capitano, Pantalone, and even Sandrone were not unaccompanied), which you were thankful for, but their faces were exposed, known.

Zandik flexed and you squeezed his arm in return as you settled into position awaiting the Tsaritsa. The Archon was escorted by Pierro, her dress as light as air despite the volume of the layers. The fabric whispered against the floor in the hushed silence.

She addressed the guests with a quiet but warm authority, not unlike how she first greeted you. Compared to the performances from Focalors in the Opera Epiclese, the Tsaritsa’s praise of Her Harbingers was grounded, full of pride and yet never reaching the fantastical exaggerations the Hydro Archon was prone to. The Tsaritsa’s eyes sparkled as much as the shining star on the sash, pinned over her heart as always, but there was a falsehood to it; a layer of ice that would never truly thaw.

You hoped your composition captured her oxymoronic nature.

Following your verbal cue, you stepped away from Zandik and passed through the crowd on the edge of the ballroom, escorted by one of your usual companions. Columbina floated ahead of you, her soft slippers gliding over the polished floor. A sea of familiar faces awaited you as you took your position and picked up the baton waiting for you.

You couldn’t use the one Zandik made for you, not without the risk of summoning your claymore over the heads of your musicians.

Percussion and strings came first to create a subtle yet solid foundation of the rhythm. A single woodwind picked up their cue, joined after a bar by the rest of their section for a warm, if melancholic beginning. Flutes picked up and carried the tune not unlike the birds that always welcomed the sun whenever it broke through the icy clouds every morning.

You wove the string section in, rounding out the composition. Grandiose in the middle, you gestured for a little more volume, listening carefully for any off rhythm or out of tune. Columbina’s harmonic vibrato rang through, an eerie chill dancing along the melody.

Everyone hit their climactic cue as practiced, as perfected, and relief flooded you. Halfway done.

Without an idea of what was happening behind you, you could only move forward and continue to pull everything together, beat by beat. Natural instinct took over, nerves steeled, and you let the notes envelope you as you moved everyone into the next section.

Your arms ached not due to exhaustion from conducting but longing. The last time you’d performed for an audience properly was lackluster, a shadow of your skills and heart, the strings on your cello more akin to sand between your fingers. A distant memory that felt so far away now. You felt full, proud, in the same way you did when you slashed your claymore through a mech and allowed your Vision’s energy to pass through you.

In this moment, every note, every gesture, was tangible, real. Coaxed and carried into the air, nurtured by the musician and by you, given a purpose and a place to exist.

You guided everyone into the final bar and closed the song with a flourish, the last of the brass section echoing off the walls of the ballroom. Applause exploded as everyone returned to rest position and you smiled, ushering everyone to stand and bow. Your success was theirs as well and when you turned to gaze out at the crowd, you caught a glassiness to the Tsaritsa’s expression that hadn’t been there before.

You turned and arranged the sheet music for the other conductor as you thanked everyone; there was little time for much else when you’d invigorated the crowd.

Expectations were shattered.

And now the evening was yours to enjoy.

Even when you were apart from Zandik, however temporary, the air felt charged. You half expected lightning to strike at any moment as eyes lingered on you. The Second was immediately swept up into conversations that were directly related to ongoing events. He was spared a single moment to congratulate you before his attention was divided, the vein in his neck prominent from annoyance.

Columbina pulled you along, Arlecchino never far behind, wine glass in one hand as the Third prattled away. The Dove kept most at bay, deterring only the brave or the foolish who wanted to ask about your education, your connection to the Doctor; what kind of person were you to write a musical composition and yet accompany a man so logical and cold that he often spent such events looking for a victim to toy with all evening?

Sandrone approached you only once, not deigning to look at your companions, and congratulated you in a tone you recognized as polite disdain. It was the same kind of placating that you received in Fontaine, a falsehood that exposed itself as the words were spoken. She, too, was among those who did not understand why, precisely, the Doctor would have brought you back with him. A musician with a talent for composition, who wielded a weapon on occasion, was nothing special.

There were others better suited to his interests, his passions, she said in closing; you smiled enigmatically into your glass and wished her a good evening.

The cognitive dissonance would disappear eventually once your soulmate finished his social rounds.

“Is she always like that?” you asked the two Harbingers.

“Weirdly possessive and thinking highly of herself? Yes,” Arlecchino replied. “Her mechanical knowledge is rivaled only by Dottore’s but she can never quite position herself to climb higher. I suppose that’s what happens when you shed your humanity and limit yourself to being a puppeteer of other marionettes though.”

Soon enough, however, the Third and Fourth had their own duties to tend to. Across the room, you watched Zandik’s earring glow faintly, and he turned to look at you for a moment. He nodded in acknowledgment before turning his attention back to the matter at hand. You would be reunited soon enough.

You looked around and made your way to the perimeter of the ballroom, where tables and chairs were set up to allow guests to rest. Not far from you, you caught sight of a large figure overlooking the room, his black uniform cutting a striking contrast against the white and gilded décor of the wall behind him.

Greeting him with a curtsy, the Captain nodded to you in silence and then returned his gaze to the rest of the room.

“You are the talk of the evening, Maestra. I hope you do not allow common gossip to concern you tonight.”

The Captain was a man of little words and yet when he spoke, he always managed to make the most poignant remarks.

“I cannot recall the last time nasha Tsaritsa and her Jester smiled as they danced,” the Harbinger continued. “She lost her true ability to love when Celestia took her beloved Sovereign from her and froze him under the sea. The Doctor is not the only one affected by your presence and skill.”

His head turned and you saw nothing but an inky abyss through the opening of his helmet.

“You would do well to remember that, Maestra.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

He straightened and didn’t speak again, instead continuing through the perimeter, ever vigilant.

Your ring glowed and cast the slightest tint of blue against the glass of sparkling wine as you raised it to your lips. You looked around and nearly jumped when you found Zandik behind you. The Third and Fourth excused themselves with a biting comment about lovebirds and slipped into the crowd.

“I trust you were in good company in my absence?” he asked.

“I was,” you replied, an errant hand reaching out to straight the feather on his lapel. “Finished for the evening?”

“My obligations have been met and I have every intention of spending the rest of the evening uninterrupted.”

Zandik held out a hand in silent request. You abandoned your glass on the nearest table before placing your hand in his and breaking through the throng of people to the dance floor. A jolt jumped through his fingertips to yours and ran up your arm, your heart expanding of its own accord.

Just like the previous night, you fell into rhythm quickly, Zandik precise and in-step as he led. The sensation of eyes crawling up your back, skimming your joined hands and how closely you danced, was offset by the way his scent lingered and how perfect you felt against him. The closest feeling to this was stepping into a warm room on a rainy day or entering your favorite cafe. Being pressed to him, in his arms, was like being home.

Around you, the air felt charged again, only this time you were certain that if it struck, you would die fulfilled.

“You were right,” you murmured as he spun both of you around.

“Of course I was. But what about?”

“I missed it. All of it.”

The hand on your waist moved to your back, fingers pressing into the exposed skin at the small of your back. Words failed to truly encompass what you meant and the thumb stroking your spine reminded you that they weren’t necessary for the man dancing with you.

“You’re talented, rooh 'albi. You don’t need me to tell you that. There is a beauty, a strength, that only comes with wielding that knowledge and hard work. If the cursed principles were so dead-set on pairing me, I’m glad it is to you.”

You settled your head onto his shoulder as best you could, even if it wasn’t befitting of the dance, the bird feathers tickling your nose. His scent was intoxicating, sandalwood and mint and musk, and for the last movements of the song, you pushed out all other noise and sensations except for Zandik.

“Can we go get some air after this?” you asked. “I’m tired of being surrounded.”

Zandik pressed his lips to your ear, his breath hot.

“You read my mind. I’ve just about his my threshold for nonsense for the evening.”

The song ended, and you resisted the urge to kiss him as you pulled away, your faces a hair width apart despite your masks. Not here, you reminded yourself, even though every part of you burned with something beyond pure need.

Your soul longed to feel his, connect and tangle and weave itself. It was more overpowering than any sensation you’d felt before.

And cut short too soon when a familiar voice sent needles up your spine and broke your reverie.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance, Maestra?”

In a stupor, you turned your head towards Pantalone, a congenial smile on his lips and his eyes closed; he wore the face of a host pleased with his guests’ experiences.

You hadn’t seen the banker all evening, actually, now that you considered it, o ther than the line-up at the beginning. It was only polite that you danced with Zandik’s closest colleague, regardless of your own sentiments. Your partner had yet to let you go and if you truly had a choice, you would have preferred to decline and stay in Zandik’s arms.

But there were eyes on you and gossip spread quicker than wildfire.

“My pleasure, Lord Harbinger. But only the one.”

Zandik relented and you took your position with Pantalone as the next song began. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched blue hair and bird feathers as the other Harbinger moved about the room.

Did he suspect his colleague, you wondered. You’d told Zandik of your experiences, how cautious you preferred to be around the banker as of late, and he was no stranger to Pantalone’s machinations, either.

The banker led you in the dance in a familiar tug that made your stomach drop to your feet. He was on beat, smooth in his steps, but he expected you to follow him. You stiffened considerably, grateful that his gloved hands never seemed to touch your bare skin other than your hand.

“A wonderful performance, as expected,” Pantalone said. “You managed to pull a smile from Her Majesty, one that hasn’t been seen in years. A testament to your skill.”

“Thank you, my lord. It wouldn’t have been possible without the musicians I worked with, however. A conductor, let alone the composition itself, is only as good as those playing the music.”

“Ever humble, Maestra. For every commonality, there is a corresponding difference between you and the Doctor. The further you ingratiate yourself, the harder this will be, you know, when those differences truly take root."

You followed his cue to spin you out and when you returned, you narrowly avoided stepping on his toe as a response.

“He forgets himself with you around. I remember what it was to be enamored, attached, bonded. They succumbed to illness long before their time. So long in fact that I cannot remember their face clearly. But I recall their touch, their presence, and you would do well to remember that your Zandik has centuries on you. He will outlast you, surpass you, because that is who he is.”

What was Pantalone getting at?

He dipped you backwards, so low you swore you intended to drop you. For a man with a lithe figure, he had more strength and reflexes than he led on. When you were upright again, you spat the first words that came to mind.

"I don't intend to go anywhere. Face the truth and set aside whatever bias you hold, Lord Harbinger."

"And watch my closest colleague suffer when he experiences the inevitability of the lies you've created? Watch my nation wonder about the mysterious woman who is not a Harbinger but managed to seat herself so closely to the Doctor that she has to be some fearsome entity, bewitching even the Tsaritsa herself? I think not."

The music swelled to a close and Pantalone stepped away almost immediately. He bowed only low enough to be polite, gold eyes glittering through his lashes with malice.

“Enjoy your evening, Maestra.”

You were shaking by the time you wove your way through the crowd, grabbed Zandik’s hand, and found the nearest exit from the ballroom. Both of you found a courtyard, dusted with frost, and stepped outside. The cold air was crisp against your hot skin and grounded you almost instantly despite the goosebumps breaking out across your arms.

“What did he say to you?” Zandik asked firmly as he cast off the feathery mantle and draped the bird over your shoulders.

“That you forget yourself with me present. That you’ll outlive me, that I’m lying to you, worming my way into the Tsaritsa’s favor.” You paused, rounding your shoulders to press your face against the metal bird. “None of it is true. How can he come to such conclusions, Zandik?”

“Whatever nonsense Pantalone said is unique to his situation, one I’ve studied extensively. He’s given me a mouthful of drivel on more than one occasion, rooh 'albi. One’s experiences always color their perspective and they always think they’re right; they cannot see beyond themselves.”

You turned and faced Zandik entirely when his hand reached for you. Instinctively, you cradled his face in both of your hands, feeling the slightest hint of stubble already beginning to grow despite his shave this morning.

“It would be more painful to be apart,” you whispered. “Than to not know what this feels like.”

“A conclusion that doesn’t have enough evidence to support. But it is the driving hypothesis behind why we agreed to explore this, isn’t it?”

“Will you outlive me? Am I condemning you to an existence of absence, mon rêve?”

“I’m hardly immortal. I’ve extended my life and with a handful of exceptions, I’m human. I’ll die one day, same as you.”

Your breaths came out in smokey puffs, the chill burning your nostrils and yet you didn’t want to go back inside. Trembling, you angled your head and captured Zandik’s lips with yours, finding nothing but steady warmth, certainty.

When you opened your mouth, his tongue found yours with reflexive ease, tasting you. You craved more, one hand slipping from his cheek to cradle the back of his head and give yourself a bit of purchase. Hunger, need, far deeper than mere carnality, swirled in your chest.

Zandik broke the kiss first, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip with a satisfying pop.

“Uncertainty and fear do not become you. Forget the rest. What do you want?”

He breathed the words against the skin of your neck and the courtyard spun around you as his teeth grazed your flesh.

“You. Us. Whatever we carve out of this world for ourselves.”

Zandik peppered kisses along your jaw.

“Then you shall have me, musiqaa ruhi. All of me. Even long after every last star in the sky is gone and we are free of the shackles of fate that tie us together.”

The words carried both of you out of the courtyard and deep into the night, never out of reach of one another.

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