#what if I posted a chapter in the main tag at 1:30 am. what then.

[vvindication]

what would you trade the pain for? — 2. Aftermath

3.6k word count content warnings: smoking, alcoholism, harassment, mentioned break up

Vincent Travart, diligent patrol officer of precinct 41 in the RCM, forms a bond with the infamous Lt. Du Bois when he fails to escape his own inherent need to help people — unwittingly exposing himself to the very beating heart of Revachol, a man who he will never be able to drive from his mind as it seems he's fated to shadow his every step.

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Vincent's absence has become a notable occurrence during the lunch hour, where before he'd frequently lingered in a quiet corner of the break room like a persistent ghost. It started with late arrivals, gradually leading into occasional disappearances - the tar scent of cigarette smoke lingering on his dark uniform - until his presence had ceased entirely. While the chatter of the precinct's officers continues on around him, Harry picks distractedly at his wilted sandwich.

Unknown to him, Vincent himself is leaning against the rusty railing of a decaying fire escape. The structure juts out from the very end of the old silk mill like a metallic fungus, clashing with the ruddy brickwork as it snakes down the building. The air is thick with autumn rain, and he takes a deep breath of his smoke. Below, the city is a hive of activity. Raindrops patter along the tops of tenements, lorries, and people alike as the daily cycle commences before his eyes, to and fro among Jamrock's estuary of roads, filling the silence with the steady drone of ever-moving traffic. He watches it all without comprehension, his focus on a murmur beyond.

Despite their inelegant first meeting - an awkward encounter after-hours that provided more insight to one another than any of the chats they'd had in passing - the two men had kept in contact. He'd offered his phone number - "in case of emergencies" he clarified, though the lieutenant's flash of a grin when handed the scrap of paper implied that he expected otherwise. What had started out as a simple attempt to help a coworker in need transformed into an odd sort-of friendship the evening Harry had called and asked for him.

He rolls the cooler end of his cigarette back and forth between his finger and thumb, habitually. Deep in thought.

When the door behind him opens with a heavy thunk, he jolts - the little spark of a cigarette flickering out and disappearing onto the sodden pavement two stories down.

"Is this where you've been hiding lately?"

He scoffs, straightening out to greet the man who'd abruptly interrupted his thoughts. "Hiding?" He asks, rhetorical. Still, the corner of his lip turns up in a faint smile as he greets him. "Lt. Du Bois."

The heavy metal door swings shut as he steps out beside him, giving the platform a wary glance as it groans with the added weight. "This isn't the safest place for a smoke."

"Yeah, probably not. At least it's quiet." His tone is subdued, shrugging his shoulders and resting his arm against the rail. Already his brown gaze has wandered off, the small fleck of blue in his left iris much more visible in the clouded daylight. He watches the swifts fly in arcs above the roofs of Jamrock, dark little silhouettes dancing in the pale grey sky.

Harry gives what seems an appropriate pause, following his lead in appreciating the view from their vantage point. Then he presents his own box of cigarettes from his overcoat, bright red with a bold triangle of black printed across the front. Astras, half-full. "Sorry about your cig."

"Oh - thanks." His hand hovers, uncertain, then takes one for himself. He uses his own lighter, shielding the flame from the humid breeze, and wordlessly offers him the same courtesy. The lieutenant leans in close with cigarette between his lips to catch it before it's blown out.

He lets the smoke trail from his open mouth, billowing away with the wind. "Since when do you smoke, anyway?"

Vincent chuckles softly. "Since I was young and stupid." He presses his cheek into the palm of his own hand, the darkened rings under his eyes prominent as he closes them. His posture is sagging with evident fatigue.

"Wait - aren't you twenty? That's not even old."

He hums. "Younger and stupider, then."

That at least makes him laugh a little.

The seconds tick by as they smoke side by side, arms slung over the railing, allowing cold raindrops to soak into the fabric of their clothes. Somewhere down the street, the horn of an aggravated driver sounds. In the reverberating heart of a city, beating with the lifeblood of its citizens on their daily commute, there is a shared moment of quiet between two officers. The younger sighs out the smoldering contents of his lungs and bumps his shoulder into the other's.

"How've you been?" He asks directly.

"Me?" Harry asks as if there were anyone else the question could be directed at, "fine. Only drank half a bottle."

His brows lower, blinking open his eyes to examine him closer. "Wait - Only? You're drunk?"

"'Course not, do I sound drunk?"

He frowns, pupils flickering back and forth with close inspection. Eventually, he concedes. "No." His expression has hardened considerably, shifting to stare in the opposite direction of his companion and instead at the horizon. A stagnant silence hangs between them.

"It hasn't stopped my work." He huffs. "I'm still filing paperwork, gathering evidence -"

"Forget it. I'm glad you're okay." Suddenly the lieutenant's fingers are on his wrist - again - and he instinctively jerks his body backwards, pulls against his grasp.

The man's dull green eyes are intense, fingers pressing hard into the small amount of skin exposed from under the sleeve of his work coat. His still-lit cigarette is perched in the other hand, flickering yellow in his peripheral. "What happened?" His tone is far from aggressive, yet the sudden drop in octave makes Vincent freeze.

"W-What?" He stammers out.

"You've been avoiding everyone to come out here and smoke, by yourself." As quickly as his demeanor had shifted before, it eases again, lightening his grip on him. "On an old rusty fire escape that barely holds two people."

He shrinks into himself, tries to move further away from his prying gaze.

"What's wrong, Vincent?"

His jaw juts out slightly, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Don't wanna do this now." He eventually mutters, turning his head and refusing eye contact.

"Do what? Talk?" He remains at his side, unflinchingly fixated as he waits for his answer.

A shaky sigh is released, held within his chest for far too long, nicotine burning at his insides. The sensation pushes up and leaks out from the corners of his eyes, hastily rubbing the moisture away. "Broke up with my boyfriend. That's all."

"Oh." The remark is barely audible, a whisper in the wind.

The cracks in his demeanor have crumbled, his entire weight is on the metal now as he shudders out in a sob, "Happy?"

Harry says nothing.

"I-It's - It's all my fault. After that one night, I just … I don't know. Wanted the chance to know you. I shouldn't have - He didn't …" he trails off as he struggles to breathe, hurriedly trying to explain himself between gasps for air.

He pats his arm, slides his palm up to rest on his upper shoulder. Vincent leans into him for support.

"M'sorry." He sniffles, a little clearer now. "I made such a mess of this."

He's vulnerable, emotionally open. Both are acutely aware of it.

Wordlessly, the lieutenant takes a small step closer into the other's personal space, hand fitting comfortably into the crook of his neck as he lifts his chin. With the way he has to stoop down, he must be about half a foot taller than him - the difference evident with their proximity. His mouth moves to say something. Soothing words. Anything. The other's dark eyes stare up into his own, anticipating.

"Don't." He whispers, breath unsteady.

"Why not?" His tone is equally quiet, leaning in over him. Even with barely any contact between them, their bodies readily share heat as they stand closely together under the overhanging clouds - Vincent's cheeks flushing with bright, unmistakable color. "You want this too, don't you?" Closing the distance would take no effort at all.

He declines to answer, biting his lip.

"Please - talk to me." He's practically begging. Desperate for connection.

Finally, he puts an end to the exchange, dipping his chin and pulling himself away. "I - I can't do this now." He puts his own cigarette out on the railing. "And you've been drinking. Should get it out of your system."

"That doesn't mean anything," he protests, "I can think fine." He moves after him.

"Stop, Harry." He speaks sharply, drying the last of his tears and adjusting the collar of his shirt to look presentable. "Let me … I need to think." He retreats further, back against the door. "I just need to think."

He pursues his exit, hand outstretched. Vincent is faster this time, recoiling from his reach and tucking his arm closely to his chest. There's a flash of fear in his expression, there one second and gone the next.

"… I'll call - I'll call you. Okay?" It's more a question than a statement.

"Wait …"

His request goes unheard. Unceremoniously, the steel door closes.

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#vvinwork #vvin writes #disco elysium #vincent travart #joakim virtaenen #corin petersen #kenrick faure #heloooo disco fans ... wanna look at my oc ... ahaha ^_^ !! #what if I posted a chapter in the main tag at 1:30 am. what then.

[fanaticsnail]

Daughter of the Sea

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 22,200+

Song Suggestion: My Heart With You - The Rescues

Themes: Unrequited requited love, slow burn, long fic, long distance relationship, friends to lovers, found family dynamics, love over time, (smut, mdni 18+, NSFW - chapters will be marked accordingly), love-making, angst, hurt, gendered terms used, swearing, adult language. Benn Beckman x f!reader, platonic!Mihawk x f!reader, platonic!Shanks x f!reader, slight mention of MiShanks ship, Beginning: Shanks is 19, Mihawk is 23, Beckman is 30, f!reader is 22, Uta is 2 months old for the sake of the plot (canonically she's 2 years old). The f!reader is suggested to be native to Kuraigana with her mannerisms and language.

Notes: This thought ran away with me. It was meant to be a one-shot, but it took ahold of me. This is why I wasn't posting regular one-shots recently. Completed 5-part chaptered series for our main man, Benn Beckman. I hope you enjoy playing the part of Mihawk's secretary as you long and pine for the first-mate from afar.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @missbeckman @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @indydonuts @mfreedomstuff @jintaka-hane @carrotsunshine @bennxgrace

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1

As personal assistant to the newly titled ‘world's greatest swordsman,’ you were privy to the acquaintances your boss kept. Over the years, a young redheaded man continued to visit Kuraigana sporadically over time with his crew. But this trip felt different, something felt off. What were they hiding? And why did the entire crew all look exhausted?

Chapter 2

Distance and time growing between you, your newfound niece gets up to mischief as her uncles' backs were all turned. Using your personal den-den-mushi, you receive updates on her growth from the ever competent first mate. .

Chapter 3

Being called to a small island in the east blue, you enjoy a day out with your five-year-old niece. Her line of questioning has you question some moments yourself, your checkered past revealed to her in no uncertain terms.

Chapter 4

After tucking your niece into bed after dinner, the two of you finally give in to your lengthy longing and spend the night in the arms of one another. A revelation once morning arrives has the blissful world you have created with one another come crashing down around you. (Smut in this chapter, MDNI, 18+).

Chapter 5

The news you received made a ripple turn into a tidal wave, the information shaking you to your core and shatter not only your own heart, but the heart of your niece and her crew. The man you love pleads for you to process this information in another way, and you truly want to, but your duty causes you to place a hard barrier back up to fortify your heart.

#one piece #x reader #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #benn beckman smut #op benn beckman #op x reader #one piece x reader #beckman chaptered fic

[chronicoverthinker]

So uhm since people are talking about my tiktok I’m actually kinda upset about two things :

1-them saying that I’m accusing mokmoklen of queerbaiting when I’ve literally put a GIANT red disclaimer saying that I am in no way accusing the author since the story it’s still ongoing and I was just going to make a rundown of what the author has done recently that has made many upset with the recent chapter

2-that after reading my 30 slides all they’ve got was me saying that the queerbaiting is because Yoshiki’s ancestor is a woman WHICH IS NOT THE CASE AT ALL.

What has actually upset many , me included with hikarugashindaupdates as well who’s a dear friend of mine , is how mokmoklen has been backtracking from the original idea of the story and is now trying to erase all the subtext and implications of their feelings for one another.

When the story first started it was advertised as BL and horror , and the kind of dynamic she wanted to develop for Yoshiki and Hikaru was way different compared to what we got now (I talked about this in detail in my video so if you wanna know more look it up).

Around the beginning of volume 3 a shift happened. It first started with mokmoklen deciding to remove the BL tag , which tbh at that time still didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Especially to me , I’ve always felt like the story didn’t need to specifically be categorized as BL for Yoshiki and Hikaru’s feelings to shine through.

But then she started to make clear how “Hikaru” CANT whatsoever feel or understand human love.

Now this is where the first problems start , because in the first volumes you can clearly see that THIS is not the case AT ALL.

And it’s not proven only by his overall behavior in the story , but also from the art she used to post.

To be fair I wouldn’t even been mad about Yoshiki’s ancestor being a woman if you told me in volume 1 , because to me it was clear that Yoshiki and Hikaru loved each other.

And fundamentally speaking , since the story is still ongoing , I know that Yoshiki’s ancestor being a woman doesn’t really take anything from the possibility of Yoshiki and “Hikaru” still ending up together. But what truly upsets me about this it’s the intentions and the meaning behind this choice.

Plus the fact that mokmoklen made it clear that now Yoshiki doesn’t feel anything for “Hikaru”. It also worries me how she still hasn’t made Yoshiki open up about his feelings for the real Hikaru either. It’s as if what was so clear to us in the first volume is now being precluded to us for whatever reason.

Hikaru and Yoshiki’s love for each other and their homosexuality is one of the main points that makes them who their are and why they act in certain ways. Their struggles to accept their orientations in a closeted and homophobic village are what makes them such layered and complex characters.

And I literally concluded by saying that I do NOT believe that if this ever turns out to be queerbaiting she ever intended for any of this to happen since the beginning. Something is going on in her life because she has delated most of her BL works on her private accounts

#the summer hikaru died #hikaru ga shinda natsu #hgsn

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 5: staying over

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, implied heavy angst (sorry), kissing, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), light manhandling, grinding, spit kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex (no condom this time, he’s 56 and she’s 49, but use a condom, y’all), creampie, masturbation, praise kink, light anal play, face sitting, if I missed anything please let me know! a/n: Well, this is part 5 of the 5+1. I can’t believe it. Next week we have the +1, which is the epilogue. I’m sorry in advance for the first part. Check ao3 for notes to skip the smut. word count: 5.5k | series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4

Chapter 5: Staying Over

Boston, September 26, 2003 

Your phone rang at 6:30 AM, rudely interrupting a dream that involved Joel, no pants, and a very sturdy table. 

“...h’llo?” you mumbled into the receiver.

“Morning, darlin’.”

“Joel?” You yawned. “Baby, it’s 5:30 in the morning in Austin. Why are you calling me?”

“Well, baby, you see, it’s my birthday, but my fiance is all the way across the country in Boston at some fancy conference. I thought maybe she might like to help me start my day right, put me in a good mood before our daughter wakes up and makes me eat one of her culinary science experiments.” You heard what sounded like sheets rustling on his end of the phone and you started to smile. 

“Joel, she cooks the eggs that way because it’s how you taught her.”

He hummed and murmured your name. “Come on, baby.”

“You looking for a little phone sex, Miller? What are you wearing?”

He laughed, but he answered, “Nothing, pretty girl. What are you wearing?” 

As he asked, you were already kicking off your pajamas. “What a coincidence! Nothing here, either.”

“Mmm wish I could see it.”

“Just one more day, baby, and then I’ll be home and you can keep me naked in your bed all night.”

“That’s our bed, darlin’. For the rest of our lives.”

You smiled, just like you did every time Joel reminded you that you’d be waking up next to each other every day from now on. He’d done this a lot since you’d moved in at the start of the summer, taking advantage of your free time after the school year ended. Though really you’d spent almost every night together since he proposed in December.

“Well, tell me what you’re doing, baby. Or what you want me to do. What do you want, birthday boy?”

“I want you to touch yourself. Tell me everything you’re doing and how it feels. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” You hummed, and slipped your hand between your legs. “Of course you can. That’s my good girl.”

...

Jackson, Spring 2024

(the same night you went to the bar)

You feel like you’ve lived a thousand lives since you met Tommy and Joel outside your house earlier. First the dance, then the panic attack, then the kiss. The almost-more-than-a kiss. Outside. Where people could see you. Your face gets hot again at the thought of it.

Slumped by your door, you tell yourself to breathe and calm down. You put your palms over your eyes and tilt your head back against the door, taking some time to breathe deeply and slow your racing heart. 

You’re afraid to let yourself think about it — you can feel the tears behind your eyes, ready to fall. You focus on your breath. 

It sort of works, enough for you to get yourself together and stand, starting to move away from the door. 

You’ve only made it a few steps away when there’s a knock, and your heart starts to race again. Your hands are shaking. 

Before you even open it, you know who’s standing on the other side. You barely pull it open a few inches before you see his hand appear as he grabs the side of the door, and then his arm as he pushes it open, and then Joel himself is in front of you again, moving straight towards you. He doesn’t even step inside all the way before he’s kissing you, the hand on the door pushing it shut and the other grabbing you by the neck. You wrap your arms around him, opening for him and deepening the kiss immediately. He turns and pushes you against the door, from the inside this time, palm flat against your collar bone. 

You gasp, chest heaving. Joel rests his forehead against yours. “I was standing in my empty house, frozen, and realized I had no idea what I was doing there, away from you.” He brushes his hands down your arms and around your waist, pulling you closer. “What the hell was I thinking? Can’t believe I kissed you like that ‘n walked away.”

You laugh, so, so relieved, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Me neither, baby.”

He turns his head, nosing along your ear and then down your neck, skimming his lips lightly across your shoulder. You shiver. 

“You got plans tonight, pretty girl?” He says it playfully, knowing you’ll pick up on it, that you’ll remember it too. It makes you laugh again and tear up at the same time.

“Just s- some cowboy who wants t- to get in my pants.” You know your lines, but you can barely get them out past the emotions bubbling up inside of you. You can feel him smirk against your neck. 

“Oh?” His left hand moves from your waist around to the front of your jeans, deftly undoing the button and starting to lower the zipper slowly. “And are you going to let him?”

“I dunno. You think he’s any good?” You’re smiling so wide it hurts. 

At that, Joel moves his hand inside your open pants to cup your pussy firmly, holding you tight over your underwear. You’re on fire, blood rushing in your ears. “You know he is, baby.”

You have to ask, even when all you want is to let him fuck you right there, against the door. You push your hands through his hair. “Not taking it slow after all?”

He softens his grip on you and brings his lips to your ear, resting his forehead against the side of your head. Your eyes slip shut. “We’ve got a lot to work out, sure, but I was standing there alone and I just realized I don’t want to spend any more of my life away from you, not if I don’t have to. Not when you’re right here barely 50 feet away from me.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, just in front of your ear. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find you twice in this fucked up life, but I ain’t turning it down.” He brings his right palm up to cup your face. “We’ve never let fear take over before and I don’t want to now. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to do this together. I want you.” 

You inhale sharply and feel a tear run down your cheek. He sees it and thumbs it away. “What about you, baby? What do you want?”

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze in the dim light of your hallway. Your hands are in his hair and his hand is still cupping your pussy, holding you gently. You know he can feel how wet you are, just from this. You curve your hips forwards and watch his eyes darken. 

“Fuck slow. I never stopped wanting you, Joel. I want you to take me to my bed and make me forget the 20 years I spent without you in it. And I want you to do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and to keep doing it every night for the rest of our lives.”

His grip tightens on your pussy as he smiles at you, slow. You see a glimpse of that cocky cowboy who swept you off your feet in 2001 in the corners of his mouth and the tilt of his brow. 

So fast it makes your head spin, he pulls his hand from your pants and goes to whisk you away towards the stairs with his arms around your waist. He pulls you close to lean on him, taking some of your weight. “Let’s get to it, then.”

“Joel Miller! Let me walk. We’re going to need those ancient back muscles, in a minute.” He laughs. 

“Alright, alright.” He slides his hands to rest on your hips. “I know we’re old now, baby, but I bet I can still make you come at least three times tonight.” You laugh, even as you feel his effect on you running through your veins and pooling in your underwear.

“Big talk, cowboy. Don’t count on that everytime, not these days.”

He hums in your ear. “You know I’m good for it.” 

You grab his hand and pull him up the stairs behind you and into your bedroom, turning and sitting on the bed. He’s on you before you can move, pulling your shoes off and your pants down your legs and tossing them somewhere across the room. You take the opportunity to strip off your shirt, moving your hands to his belt once you’re done. 

He takes off his shirt and it makes you stop and stare, eyes roving over his strong chest and arms, somehow stronger than when you last saw him like this. You look up at him and realize you’re sitting frozen on the bed with your hands on his belt, and you smirk as you loosen it and then undo his jeans. 

He inhales slowly and reaches forward to brush his thumb across your lips as you pull him from his underwear, shifting your gaze from his face to his hard cock. 

You begin to lean forward, mouth opening, tongue darting out for a taste, when he catches you by the throat and your eyes dart back up to meet his gaze. He’s looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smirk on his face. 

“Now, pretty girl, did I say you could do that?”

You squirm, so aroused you can feel the mess you’re making. “Please, baby?” You meet his eyes and run your tongue across your bottom lip. “It’s been so long.”

“You know I love that pretty mouth. But I think we should make sure of something right quick.”

You tilt your head, questioning. Not sure what he means. He shoves your shoulder, pushing you to back up and lie on the bed before kicking off his jeans and underwear and crawling over you. He lowers himself so that his cock is brushing your stomach and whispers in your left ear, “Only good girls get to suck this cock, baby, you know that. Are you still my good girl?” 

You breathe in so sharply it’s almost a sob, and clutch at him. “Yes, Joel,” you breathe. “Always.”

He sits up a bit and smiles at you, and you can see it all there in his expression. This man is the love of your life, and it’s still mutual. You still fit together like this perfectly. You close your eyes against the swell of emotion you feel at realizing how well you go together, even after all this time.

“I thought so. Why don’t you show me how good you can be, pretty girl, and touch yourself.” You immediately move to do as he says, and he leans to the side to watch. “Let me see you get wet for me, baby.”

“I’m already wet, Joel.” You feel him settle in next to you as he watches your hand move between your legs. He pushes your left leg up and to the side, opening you up for his view. 

“I want you so wet you soak the bed, baby. I want you so wet it feels like silk when my cock slips inside that pussy.” You moan at his words, watching him watch your hand. He sits up to get a better look. 

You open your legs wider and use your fingers to spread your folds with one hand while you start to tease yourself with the other. You move your fingers lightly from your hole to your clit, dancing around it as you watch his reaction. You know your body looks different now, but under his gaze you feel the same as you did every time he looked at you back then – beautiful, desirable. Loved. Like he looks at you and sees you.

You circle your clit, letting the feeling build just a bit before moving your fingers down to your entrance. You push your hips forward slightly, watching as he leans forward. You slip one finger inside and he licks his bottom lip, gaze intent. 

“So pretty, baby. Such a pretty pussy, always so pretty for me.” He doesn’t look away from your fingers as he says it. 

You slip a second finger inside you, starting to pump them in and out, but it’s not enough. Your fingers aren’t big enough, never have been, not after having his. You squirm a little, trying to go deeper. He sees your struggle and smirks. “You need help, pretty girl?”

You bite your lip, nodding. “Please, Joel. I need your fingers, baby, I missed them so much.”

“Yeah?” He smooths his hand up your leg, closer and closer to where you want him. “You need it that bad?”

“Yes!” You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shhh, let me help you. I’ll give you everything you want, baby.” He pulls your hands from your pussy and pins them to the bed by your hips. He holds them here as he leans down, inches away from your open pussy, taking a good, long look. You squirm. “Joel–”

“Patience.” He nips at your thigh. “Let me look at you.” He does, and you watch him do it, helpless. “I missed this, so much. This right here.” 

He leans down and slowly licks you, tongue flat and mouth wide open, lingering over your clit and meeting your eyes. “You taste so damn good, baby, thought I’d never get to taste this again.” You revel in the feeling of his beard scratching against your pussy as he licks you again, slow. You feel yourself getting wetter as you clutch the sheets in your fists. 

He lifts one hand but eyes you, so you know he wants you to keep your hand where it is. He uses his fingers to spread open your folds, and looks down again, licking his lips. He looks up to meet your eyes again – you can feel yourself staring, mouth open, breathing hard but silent – and he smirks. “I don’t think you’re wet enough yet, baby.”

You know what’s coming before he does it, but the anticipation makes you squirm. He opens his mouth and lets you see him gather the spit on his tongue before he lets it slip off the tip, right onto your clit, exposed by his fingers holding you open. You throw your head back and moan. “That’s my girl.” With that, he leans back down, and puts his mouth to work right where you both want it. You buck your hips up and he pushes them back down with his right hand. “Easy, pretty girl. Let me get my taste of this perfect pussy.”

He takes both hands and throws your legs over his shoulders, returning his mouth to your clit and sucking lightly. You whine, and it spurs him on. “Fuck, Joel.” He reaches down with one hand to tease you at your entrance while the other reaches up around your leg to pinch your nipple as he takes your clit in your teeth. He looks up and catches your eye, keeping eye contact as his touch sets you aflame – twisting your nipple gently, sucking and tonguing your clit, and slowly sinking his finger inside you, all at once. You stop breathing for a moment, overwhelmed at the competing sensations.

Joel winks at you and then returns to his work. He thrusts one finger inside of you, curling it upwards at the end of every thrust. You’re astonished to feel your orgasm building, right then and there, so quick and so strong. You know he can tell – your breath speeds up and you clench your fists tight. Your legs start to shake and you clench down on his fingers, a second joining the first, fucking you perfectly. 

Joel plays your entire body perfectly, even though he hasn’t touched it in 20 years. It’s masterful, like he never forgot a single detail, and it brings tears to your eyes. Fuck.

You’re so close, but you’re teetering right on the edge. He smooths his left hand down your torso, pressing down gently on your pelvis. He lifts his head up, fingers twisting inside of you, and says, “show me how good you are, pretty girl. Come on my face.” 

And you do. He immediately returns his mouth to your clit, sucking on it, and it tips you over the edge. You haven’t had an orgasm like this in 20 years and it launches through your body like a rocket. It overwhelms every bit of you, body and mind, setting you on fire in its wake. You cry out and lose yourself in it.

You’re slow to come down but as you do you realize you’ve locked your thighs around Joel’s head.

He seems happy with his plight, though, as he continues licking at your hole, teasing his tongue up inside of you as he removes his fingers. Like a man dying of thirst, finally given water.

You open your legs and tug him away by the hair, overstimulated. “I missed the way you taste, baby. Even better than I remembered.” His face is glistening and his eyelids are heavy, dark eyes watching you. He clears his throat. “That was one. You ready for another?” He grins. You shake your head at him, and laugh, incredulous. 

“Show me what you can do, cowboy.” You’re breathless, boneless.

He turns his head and kisses your thigh, leaving a trail of moisture from his face as he moves slowly up to your knee. Then he licks, tongue flat, all the way from your knee back to your hip, where he digs in a little with his tongue at the crease of your thigh. You let your legs fall apart at the sensation. “I want you to give me another one, baby. Turn over.” You think you know what he wants, and your heart starts to race even faster. 

You sit up, a little unsteady, arms shaking, and turn over so you’re on all fours. He nips at your ass and you know it’s because he approves. You feel him shifting around as you hang your head between your shoulders. Then you feel his hands smooth up the back of your thighs and you realize he’s on his back, face right under your pussy. 

“Sit down, baby. Put that pretty pussy right on my face.” You shiver. You know he means it. He taps your ass when you don’t move right away. 

You lower your hips, sliding your knees apart on the bed and feeling them ache a little, sitting up at the same time. You look down and you can see him waiting for you, a wicked grin on his face. “That’s it, be a good girl and sit down right here for me.” 

He reaches up and pulls your hips down and you do. Back Before, you used to worry you’d smother him like this, until one night he made you sit down, weight dropped fully onto him, and he moaned louder than you’d ever heard him. He wanted you like that, all over him, smothering him, taking over all of his senses. You were happy to oblige.

You sink onto his face and you feel his mouth open to meet you. His tongue licks at you and then sinks right inside, smooth and soft. “Yes, baby,” you sigh. He twists his tongue inside and then closes his lips around your hole, kissing you there like he would kiss your mouth. And then he sucks, lightly, making your entire body shiver in response.

As you start to rock your hips he encourages it, squeezing your hips and pulling you up and down on his face, thrusting his tongue in time with your hips. His nose starts to catch on your clit and your breath hitches at every thrust. You moan, loudly. You start to lose yourself in it, head flung back, thrusting harder than you’d let yourself if you could think straight, but he moans in response and scrapes his teeth lightly around your hole. 

The noises he’s making are obscene.

Joel’s hands leave your hips and sneak around to your ass, grabbing both cheeks and squeezing. On the next rock of your hips he lets go with his left hand and lightly trails his fingers between your cheeks, touching the pad of one finger to your asshole. You whine and push your hips back to meet it. You can feel his grin at your response.

He uses his right hand to pull you towards his face while his left toys with your ass and his tongue continues to stoke the fire inside of you. You grab his right wrist with one hand and his hair with the other as you grind down on his face. He sucks at your hole and pulls down with his hands to hold you down. 

You throw your head back again, lost in the moment. Your orgasm is close, creeping over you, sending tingles down your spine. You clench around his tongue. “Fuck, Joel, your mouth. I’m gonna come, baby,” you whisper, overcome.

You don’t know if he can hear you, but you know he can tell. He always could, and he always knew just how to push you over the edge. He pushes you back a little with his right hand, and then tugs you back down, thrusting his tongue inside of you and curling it upwards. 

His mouth is open wide, so wide you feel it everywhere as he sucks at your hole and grinds his nose into your clit.The tip of middle finger just breaches your asshole. 

Your orgasm slams into you and you cry out, tensing all over and closing his head between your thighs. You clench on his tongue and his finger, holding him inside you in both places as the fire rushes over you again. This one is stronger but it passes more quickly and you find yourself toppling forward as it leaves you. You catch yourself on one hand, and look down at Joel.

He’s fucking wrecked, face covered in your juices, and totally blissed out. He looks like he’s achieved a higher plane of existence, eyes closed, breathing heavy and licking his lips. You both just breathe for a moment, completely winded. 

And then he opens his eyes.

His gaze immediately locks on yours, and he growls. It happens so fast you barely follow it, but suddenly he’s up again and flips you onto your back. “Never thought I’d get to have this again.” His voice is low and you feel it rumble deep through your chest. He pulls you down the bed by the hips, spreading your legs and wrapping them around his waist. “This perfect fucking pussy, fucking made for me.” His left hand comes up and wraps around your throat, just holding you, as his right reaches down to rest the tip of his cock at your entrance. You can feel it there, just barely pushing at you, notched in place. 

You gasp, overwhelmed, and beg him, “please, Joel. I need you.”

He leans over you, right hand coming to rest by your head, forehead pressed to yours as he whispers your name. “I want to live right here, in bed, with you. I want to pass my days with my face buried in your pussy. I want you to sit on my cock until you can’t take it, until you cry, until you forget what it feels like not to be full of me. I want you right here with me every day until I die. Just like we promised.” With the last word, he sinks into you, steadily, filling you all the way up until his hips meet yours. You sob and clutch at his shoulders. 

“I want you just like this. Beautiful and overwhelmed. Full of my cock. So wet you’re dripping. Needy and at my mercy.” He squeezes your neck gently, just the way you like. He leans down and captures your mouth, tangling your tongues together as he twists his hips a little, keeping himself fully inside of you. You taste yourself on his tongue.

“I want you, honey. What do you want?”

You reach up and grab his ass in both hands, squeezing. 

“I want that too, baby, want to do that, be that for you.” You take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye. 

“And right now I want you to fuck me, Joel Miller, and I want you to mean it.”

He grins wider than you’ve seen him, since you found him again. He looks younger and a bit wild. “That’s my good girl.” His words sink into you like a stone falling into a pool, sending ripples down your spine. 

And then he does.

He pulls out, almost all the way, and then pounds into you. He finds a rhythm and keeps it up, resting his forehead on yours and sliding his left hand behind your neck. You breathe each other in as you lift your hips to his, chasing the same high. You can feel it, dancing ahead of you, as his cock fills you just right with every thrust. He drops his head to your shoulder and moves his right hand down to your clit. “One more, baby,” he murmurs in your right ear. “Give me one more. I need to feel your pussy squeeze me tight.” You close your eyes and fall into it, letting him sweep you away. His hips speed up as his fingers match his thrusts in rhythm on your clit and you cling to him, just trying to hold on with your arms and legs. 

He’s pushing you higher and higher, just about there, and you squeeze your pussy tight right when he squeezes the back of your neck. He opens his mouth and bites down on your shoulder and your vision goes white. You clench around him, crying out his name, and his hips stutter as he follows you upwards and over. You hear him say your name, over and over again, as your orgasms slam into you both and then leave you loose and tingling in their wake. 

You’re both breathing hard when he reaches down to ease his cock out of you before flopping down on his back at your side. He groans. You can’t move your legs, and you tell him so. He huffs a weak laugh in response. 

Somehow Joel finds the strength to roll over and reach for his shirt, which he uses to clean you both up. You smile, knowing he’s going to be annoyed with himself for doing that in the morning. He flops back down and pulls you into him on his left, hitching your thigh over his leg and pulling you close with an arm around your waist. The position is at once so familiar, like an echo, and so longed for that it makes you dizzy.

“Not sure our backs ‘n knees are up for all that vigorous activity anymore, darlin’.” He’s breathless as he says it, and you can hear his heart racing under your ear on his chest.

You know he’s right - your pussy is throbbing a little and you know it won’t go that way every time, not these days. But you tease him anyway. “Speak for yourself, old man, I’m still young and limber.” He laughs. “Got seven years on you, anyway.”

He nuzzles into your hair, squeezing the wrist you’ve thrown across his chest with his right hand. “Still blew me away, baby, even if my back is killing me. Fucking made for me, I told you.”

You inhale deeply, and settle onto his chest. His scent is comforting and it settles something inside of you that hasn’t been settled in a long, long time. “Made for each other, more like. I missed you so goddamn much, Joel.”

“I missed you too, darlin’. Every fucking day. Even when I pretended I wasn’t thinking about it.” He takes a deep breath, pulling you closer. “I hope you weren’t alone for all of it. I – well, I –” You know what he’s getting at, so you interrupt before he can twist himself up into knots.

“I know about Tess, Joel. Tommy told me. I’m glad you had someone.” 

“Course he did. Well, I’m glad you know.” He sighs.

“I do, but Joel, I had someone too. For a little while, anyway. That’s why he told me, I told him first.” You take a deep breath. “It was in Atlanta. We were as much as we could be for each other, which wasn’t enough probably. But we did ok. She was…” You close your eyes, remembering Michelle. He brushes his hand down your back, soothing you. “She was good, and kind, even in the apocalypse when most of us were hard. Including me.”

“I’m glad you had someone. I wish I was there, of course, but I wouldn’t want you to be alone, all that time.” 

You nod against his chest, agreeing. “We’ll tell each other all about it, eventually.” 

He goes quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t let myself do it often, but sometimes I tried to imagine we were wrong. That you were alive. And what it would have been like if that were true.”

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing. He takes a deep breath and continues. 

“What it would be like to just run into you on the street. I… well. I didn’t think about it often. Because I was pretty sure you would have hated the man I’d become.” You try to pick your head up to look at him but he brings his hand up to smooth over your hair, keeping you where you are. “I wasn’t… they were never happy thoughts. I couldn’t imagine a reunion where you saw what I’d become and didn’t turn right back around and leave me there. ‘N I would’a deserved it. So I tried not to think about it.”

“Joel, I-.” He interrupts, continuing like he’s afraid he’ll stop if he doesn’t. 

“In some ways I’m glad I found you now. I wish I’d known earlier, of course I do. But I’m more… me, now. I was a ghost, in Boston. I said barely living, but I felt barely human.” He pulls you tighter against him. “You wouldn’t have deserved being around me like that. No one did. Ellie didn’t, that’s for sure. Somehow she stuck around me long enough for me to remember how to be human again anyway.”

You push yourself up and don’t let him hold you down. Looking at him, you see that his eyes are teary, and he’s frowning. 

“Joel, I used to think about it too. And I worried the same thing - that I’d become something you wouldn’t want anymore. Someone hard, and mean, and unyielding. But neither of us were right, baby. I didn’t fall in love with only one part of you. I fell in love with all of you. And I think we both know how ruthless we might have become at times in the last 20 years, to survive.”

He closes his eyes and nods. 

“It was never a question for us back then, how much you’d do to protect us. How far you’d go. And I didn’t exactly shy away from it myself.” He huffs a laugh like he agrees with you, eyes still closed. You reach out to cup his face. 

“I know we didn’t get to say it back then, baby, but we would have said for better or for worse, and I would have meant it. That’s what I used to wonder about and try not to let myself want too much - to have you there for the worst of it. Not to have to go it alone.”

He finally opens his eyes again and he’s looking at you with not a little wonder. He brushes his fingers down your cheek.

“I forgot, for a long time, what it was like to be trusted like that. To be someone’s safe place. I couldn’t, or wouldn’t maybe, let myself with Tess, and, well. She deserved more than I could give her.” You can see the regret in his eyes, and it’s so familiar. You used to think the same thing about Michelle, wishing you could give her more of you, knowing there wasn’t more to give. Not back then. “I remembered it, with Ellie. It was hard as shit, don’t get me wrong.” You laugh a bit, and he smiles. “Thought caring like that would take me out for good. Feels like it sometimes, still. But I’m remembering how, with her. And now with you.” He tucks your head back down on his chest and pulls you closer, almost on top of him. 

You’re both quiet for a moment.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“This doesn’t feel real. It’s too… I’m too happy.”

“I know. I feel it too, baby.” He kisses you softly right at your hairline. “I feel it too.”

...

a/n: See you next week for the +1/epilogue! It's... not short. lol

ch 6/epilogue now posted!

Taglist:

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe @huffle-punk (@poodlebae just realized I forgot to tag you!! Sorry!!)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #over again fic #tlou fanfiction #my fic #x reader

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the fox

Chapter 10 of maybe 30ish (2186 words)

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"Day 1 are you ready?" Jimin asks as he hands you a brown bag.

You sneak a look inside to find it filled with snacks to get you through the day along with a post-it note that you can't quite read from this angle. You fold the bag closed carefully and thank Jimin for the lunch.

"Yeah, I'm ready, at least as ready as I'm ever going to be."

"It'll be great I'm sure. You said you already kind of made a friend right?"

"Taehyung? I'm not sure he was a bit hot and cold, but I'll be okay, I'm a big girl."

Jimin sweeps you into a hug before you can even reach for the door. You indulge him, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of being held close. He sends you off, standing at the door as you walk down the drive and around the corner, standing there until you can no longer see the door.

____________

The office is still relatively empty when you walk through the doors. The same severe-looking lady is standing at reception. You offer a smile which she returns.

"Y/N welcome back. Glad to see you got the position. I don't think I introduced myself the other day. My name is Ronnie and we will be working closely together."

Ronnie shows you officially around the office pointing out various essentials that you would need to know within your first few days. It feels as though you should have a notepad to write down all of the information you are being fed at lightning speed. Only about half of the information sticks in your brain.

It's not a humongous office. Maybe 10 cubicles and 3 offices with real walls. 2 conference rooms sit at the far end of the space. The company specialises in helping foreigners to move to the country assisting in work placement and visa procurement. You are introduced to the other two people that have already arrived in the office and then Estelle is setting you up with her at the front desk.

She hands you a brand new company-branded stationary set with your company ID tag and login information. Then she leaves you to breathe, fetching a drink from the break room. Slowly people filter in through the main doors, introducing themselves to you as they go. Everyone is extremely welcoming but you can't help but notice the absence of the asshole from the other day and Taehyung.

You set about answering phone calls and forwarding emails as Estelle had shown you, it was boring busy work but it certainly beat hanging at home alone doing nothing at all. Sometime just before lunch Taehyung finally strolls through the doors. He grins cheekily at your colleague as she chastises him for being late.

"Don't think you're special just because of how you got the job Taehyung-ah, you have to get here on time just like the rest of us."

"I know Estelle, I just didn't fancy getting out of bed this morning." He shrugs.

The panda grabs a handful of candy from the dish in front of Estelle and sauntered into the main room. The older woman grumbles under her breath about disrespect but the look on her face is one of pure adoration, not dissimilar to the look a grandmother might have when her grandson plays up.

"Don't go around getting ideas from him, that boy's trouble." She says to you.

"Am not!" Taehyung calls from behind the half wall that separates the main room from reception. "Hey Y/N we are going for lunch in thirty minutes okay?"

You don't respond to the disembodied voice as it calls out to you, opting to focus on the work you'd been assigned instead.

True to his word he reappeared in front of you exactly 30 minutes later carrying your brown bag and a bento box of his own.

"Come on there's a lovely little park for a picnic across the road. You get an hour for lunch."

You glance at Estelle but she just shakes her head and signals for you to go with him.

__________

The park is a very short walk away. Almost directly opposite the building, if your offices had been on the opposite side it would've provided the cutest view. Taehyung produced a blanket from a tote bag you hadn't noticed and laid it on the floor for you to sit on together.

It was a really beautiful day with no clouds, but it was a little chilly. This close to winter an outdoor picnic was an interesting choice. The breeze makes you shiver just a little. Before you even get a chance to shield yourself, Taehyung has produced another blanket to drape over your shoulders.

"I love the cold, my DNA is built for it, but I sometimes forget others aren't as accustomed... But this time I remembered!" He claps his hands together clearly proud of himself.

He opens his bento box and produces 3 courses worth of meals. He has white rice with some kind of marinated tofu, a salad with balsamic vinegar, and cookies. There is also a small Thermus from which you can smell the tea as soon as he twists it open.

"Go on then what did you bring for lunch? Maybe we can do swapsies, I don't really fancy tofu." He reaches eagerly for your bag, not giving you a chance to snatch it bag.

He pulls out your chicken sandwiches that Jimin had wrapped messily in the last of the tinfoil roll. Then he reaches in for the apple and crisps, coming back with the note that had been sitting in the bottom.

"Y/N have an amazing first day we are so proud and can't wait to celebrate again when you get home, Jimin." Taehyung reads aloud. "Who is Jimin? You're boyfriend? I'm hurt you would lead me on this way Y/N"

Taehyung mocks being shot through the heart, dramatically falling back onto the blanket as he clutches the pink note in his hand.

"I can't have led you on in less than two conversations Taehyung. And Jimin's no one... just a friend."

You reach to grab the note back from him but he keeps it just out of reach causing you to tumble into his lap.

"Well maybe I should try to make him my boyfriend, I want little notes in my lunch too." He pouts.

His breath tickles your face as you try to scramble back up without flattening him in the process. He just laughs at your efforts and makes no effort to help you get off of him. Although he does hand you the note back.

He takes your crisps and gives you his cookies as a consolation prize. He asks you various questions and you strategically avoid answering them directly the same way you'd done with everyone else. What you didn't expect was for him to be doing the same. You couldn't tell why exactly but you were fairly certain there were things he was omitting from his story as he told you how he came to work at the firm with you.

Lunch comes to an end very quickly and you help him pack up the blankets that don't seem to want to fit back in the bag they came from. Eventually, he just punches them until they are in enough to carry them back. He deposits you back at your desk dead on one hour after you left and then disappears for the remainder of the day.

_____________

Apparently, it would seem working takes a lot out of a person. By the time you trudge back into the cottage at 6:00 pm, you are shattered. It seems impossible not having done that much and yet you can't keep your eyelids from drooping and your ass hurts from sitting for so long.

Jungkook is the only one home when you walk through the door. The only part of him you can see are his ears peaking up over the sofa trying to determine who just walked through the front door. You expect them to droop a little when he realises it's you but instead they twitch excitedly.

"Hey Jungkook, did you have a good day." You ask, approaching the living room slowly.

"Yeah, iI didn't do much." He answers.

"Do you want some dinner? Or shall we wait until the others are home?"

You peer over the back of the sofa and watch him playing on his switch until he is at a point where he can pause and speak to you.

"I wanna wait." He glances up at you briefly and then back to his game.

"Okay in which case I'm going to change, work clothes still feel too weird to relax in."

You go to the study and change into sweats. You're pretty sure the front door opened at least twice since you went upstairs signalling the arrival of some of the others. Jungkook's caramel scent wafted happily around the house as it started to mix with Namjoon's campfire. No other scent came to you though leaving you confused as to who else might be in the house.

Hoseok is sitting in the big armchair in the lounge when you come back down. Yoongi wasn't due to be home for another half an hour but clearly, that didn't matter.

"I got lonely at my house, so I thought I'd wait for Yoongi here." He shrugged when you sent him a questioning look. "Anyway, how was your day? we are all dying to know."

He shuffles forward to literally be on the edge of his seat and Namjoon and Jungkook stop the conversation they were having to listen.

"It was nothing special. I didn't realise how tiring working was though."

"Surely you've had a job before though." Namjoon scoffs.

You shake your head and are met by three very surprised faces.

"Even I had a paper round when I was a teen." Jungkook baulks.

"I haven't really had the opportunity to pursue a career until now I guess... I studied a lot." You try to shut down the conversation before they go any further, still not ready to divulge a lot about your past.

Luckily Jimin and Yoongi make it through the door together. Each of the homeowners exchanged kisses before the two new arrivals made themselves comfortable.

"Are we supposed to be working on something today?" Yoongi asked Hobi, confused by his presence, although clearly not disappointed you notice.

"Uh-oh busted. I just had a lot of fun hanging out yesterday... I can leave if you want." The human's usually cool and collected facade cracking a little.

"No of course you can stay." Namjoon answers. "Now what are we thinking for dinner?"

______

Again the night goes on, Hobi is invited to stay once more, this time Yoongi offers his and Namjoon's room so Jimin can have his own bed back for the night. Although you suspect there may be alterior motives involved when Yoongi suggests they share the room and Namjoon share with Jungkook. Hoseok doesn't flinch, and happily finds his own way upstairs.

"Yoongi, darling, you seem to be getting a little... protective of your new friend." Namjoon points out carefully.

"So? I'm protective of a lot of my friends, I'm protective over you guys aren't I?" Yoongi gets a little defensive.

"I should hope we are more than friends." Jimin points out.

"Do you want to pursue Hobi?" Namjoon asks seriously.

"I don't know, maybe? I don't know it's been a long time since I've actively pursued anyone. And I'm not sure you even count Joonie." Yoongi contemplates.

"I think even if maybe you haven’t thought about it you should, clearly your hybrid parts are already starting to think of him as ours, or at the very least yours." Namjoon reasons.

"Yeah, you're right. I have definitely been feeling more anxious when he isn't around me." Yoongi stands and says he good nights, following Hoseok upstairs to probably work out exactly how he feels.

"So you guys consider new mates then?" You ask tentatively, although you aren't sure why it should concern you.

"When the right people come along who are we to turn down more love?" Jimin asks in reply, looking off dreamily.

"That makes sense I guess, I've always been told that more partners just results in more jealousy." You say, thinking about the things your ex used to say.

"Why would someone you love experiencing more love ever make you jealous? It always makes me so happy when everyone else is happy." Jimin moves on to the sofa next to Namjoon and Jungkook and cuddles in closely.

"That's... that's really lovely." You answer, and then fake a yawn. "I think I'm going to head to bed, goodnight."

You thought you'd be asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow but find yourself struggling to fall asleep. your eyes keep blinking open as thoughts of a pack of your own swim through your brain. A group of people who love each other so much that jealousy isn't even a thought in their minds.

Next

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Please send asks, reactions, most to least, and general smutty thoughts to my ask box to keep me writing they do not have to be connected to this story. I just like giving myself extra work to do so. Please join in

#bts fic #bts smut #kpop smut #kpop fic #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #bts slowburn #bts hybrids #jimin smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut #hybrid bts

[kmomof4]

A Mistress to No One Part 1 Chapter 2

And we’re back with the masquerade!!! Are you ready for our favorite couple to meet? I sure am!

All the love and hugs again to my bestie @hollyethecurious​, for whom this fic was written, @jrob64​ and @zaharadessert​ for their betaing expertise, and to @motherkatereloyshipper​ for her manips of Emma, Killian, and Cora I used in the artwork! Love you all, ladies!!!

I’ve changed my mind a little bit about the posting schedule for this fic. Ch3 which brings Part 1 to a close is a relatively short chapter and since Pt2 is really the main focus of the fic, I’m going to post Ch3 this Wednesday and start Pt2 next Sunday. Updates will then be weekly.

Thank you all for your enthusiasm for this fic! I can’t tell you what it means to me! I hope you enjoy this one and let me know what you think!

Summary: Bastard Emma Swan enjoys one night of pure magic and romance in the midst of a life of drudgery and abuse- attending a masquerade ball and meeting aristocrat Killian Jones. 

Two years later, the same man she met on the best night of her life reappears, saving her from a dire fate in the process.Now, she must keep herself from falling in love with a man she can never have. But when that proves impossible, is there any hope for a happy ending between two people from such vastly different worlds?

Rating: M (smut in a later ch)

Words: Almost 6900 of 61,6K

Tags: Birthday fic, Inspired by Benedict’s Story in Bridgerton, Smut

On ao3 from the beginning/ current ch

On Tumblr Prologue Ch1

New tag list. Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@jrob64​ @teamhook​ @winterbaby89​ @hollyethecurious​ @xarandomdreamx​ @undercaffinatednightmare​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @stahlop​ @superchocovian​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @tiganasummertree​ @anmylica​ @cosette141​ @motherkatereloyshipper​ @zaharadessert​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @jennjenn615​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @kymbersmith-90​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​ @wistfulcynic​ @mie779​ @snowbellewells​ @lfh1226-linda​ @aprilqueen84​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @pirateherokillian​ @elfiola​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @poptart-cat-78​ @myfearless-love​ @goforlaunchcee​ @searchingwardrobes​ @gingerpolyglot​ @gingerchangeling​ @djlbg​ @cocohook38​ @cs-rylie​ @thisonesatellite​ @donteattheappleshook​ @deckerstarblanche​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Dearest Reader,

The day of the Jones masquerade ball has arrived and This Author waits with bated breath to behold the finery members of the ton will don for the evening's festivities.

There will of course be the requisite literary characters- This Author understands Countess Cora Spencer will be dressed as the Queen of Hearts of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland fame, with rumors suggesting that young Tilly Jones will be dressed as the title character. There appears to be a full complement of Faire Tale Princesses as Mary Margaret Blanchard plans to dress as Snow White and Aurora Rosen as the Sleeping Beauty.

As for the men, if previous masquerades are any indication, the portly will dress as Henry VIII, with the fit as either the devil or Alexander the Great. The bored (of which the eligible Jones brothers will almost certainly be among) will dress as themselves, in basic black attire with a demi mask as a nod to the occasion. But of course, This Author could always be surprised.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

May 30

~*~*~

Killian Jones stood along the wall of his mother’s ballroom, wishing desperately that he was anywhere else but here. As the son of the hostess, and as one of two eligible sons of the hostess, he found himself surrounded by either a host of tittering, banal debutantes, or their bloodthirsty mamas, who he rather thought of as sharks, always on the lookout for eligible bachelors for their trite and simpering daughters. At the moment, he was cornered by an aging shepherdess.

“Another Jones! No other family has blue eyes like the Jones’ do. Which one are you? I know you’re not David, I just saw him.” She waved her hand vaguely toward the other side of the room. “So you must be the Viscount or Number 2. Which is it?”

Killian eyed her coolly, but he was afraid he couldn’t keep the touch of anger he felt out of his gaze. While he loved his family very much and would not truly wish to be a member of any other, he sometimes wished he was seen as less of a Jones and more as himself.

“Number 2,” he bit out.

“Oh, I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I must go tell Aurora. I told her you were number two-”

“Killian,” he all but growled.

“-but she was sure you were the Viscount. That’s why she’s over there, talking to…”

“Please excuse me,” he interrupted her suddenly. “I’ve just noticed someone I must speak to.” It was either that or murder the twittering ninnyhammer. And with this many people in attendance, he didn’t think he could possibly get away with that.

He moved away from her, making his way to the ballroom’s side door, hoping for some peace and quiet, and perhaps a glass of rum in his brother’s study.

“Killian!”

He cursed under his breath. He’d nearly made a clean getaway. He turned to Alice Jones with a smile on his face.

“Good evening, Mother.” She was dressed as some Elizabethan character, probably Shakespearean, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out who. “What can I do for you?”

The dowager viscountess beamed at her son and Killian’s heart sank. Her smile could only mean one thing.

She placed her hand on his arm before speaking. “Would you just look at Ella DeVille over there? Her Little Red Riding Hood costume is just too much red. It makes her look like a vampire. And no one is talking to the poor girl at all. Would you dance with her? Please? For me?”

Killian fought to keep from rolling his eyes. He loved his mother dearly, but if there was one thing that grated on his nerves, it was her tendency to meddle in the romantic affairs of her unmarried children. Followed very closely by not being able to abide a proverbial wallflower at any ball.

“Have mercy, Mother,” he begged. “No one is asking her to dance because she has the most twisted sense of humor and a laugh that can be heard for miles.” He cast his eyes around the room until they landed on another prospect. “I’ll dance with Mary Margaret Blanchard, how’s that?” He turned back to his mother to see her nod her head and the corner of her lips lift in a secret smile.

“That’ll do. Thank you, Killian.” He turned and when his eyes landed on Mary Margaret again, he was reminded that it could have been much worse. He’d known her for years and he really did like her. She was kind and gracious and objectively quite attractive, though he himself wasn’t romantically interested in her. As a result, he was completely confounded on why she hadn’t snagged herself a husband yet. Perhaps she was holding out for someone in particular.

He began to approach her when he heard a wave of whispers behind him. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end and a sense of anticipation gripped him. He knew he shouldn’t allow anything to distract him from his pledge, but his curiosity overwhelmed him and he turned toward the entrance of the ballroom.

It was as if time stood still.

Just inside the doors stood what he could only describe as a true princess come to life. She was dressed in a beautiful, shining blue gown whose skirt sparkled like diamonds. The bodice and sheer short sleeves were trimmed with silver detailing that flashed when it caught the light. Her mask was silver and had an exquisite swan detail around the right eye. Tendrils of blonde hair framed the other side of her face. But it was her gaze that captured his attention the most. This was a woman filled with unadulterated joy. She looked around the room as if she’d never seen a more glorious sight than all the silly members of the ton dressed in their ridiculous costumes.

Her beauty was truly breathtaking, the way she held herself, the poise, the grace of her movements. She was radiant and he had to be close to her. Mary Margaret was completely forgotten as he strode purposefully across the room. Three other gentlemen had beaten him to the lady and stood around her, showering her with praise and compliments.

She didn’t react as he would expect a lady of the ton to react. She didn’t lower her eyes demurely, she didn’t giggle, she didn’t act coy or as if their adulations were her due. She simply smiled at them. Or beamed rather. He held his hand out to her.

“Pardon me, gentlemen. But the lady has already promised this dance to me.” He gazed into her green eyes, which widened slightly at his bold pronouncement. He wondered if she would expose his lie for what it was.

She smiled and placed her hand in his. He drew her closer, then led her out to the dance floor.

“Have you permission to dance the waltz?”

She shook her head. “I don’t actually dance.”

He was taken aback. “You don’t?”

“I’ve never learned how.”

Killian was stunned speechless for a moment. What young lady of the ton would have reached her age and not learned how to dance?

“There is only one thing to do then.”

She tilted her head at him in question. “And what’s that?”

“I shall teach you.”

Killian was shocked and then utterly charmed when a surprised laugh burst from her lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying not to sound too affronted.

She contained her giggles and turned her sparkling eyes upon him once again.

“Even I know that dancing lessons are not conducted at a ball.”

“And what does that mean exactly, hmm?” he asked, speculatively, “Even I?”

She didn’t answer.

“Mmhmmm,” he murmured. “Well, I cannot allow this sorry state of affairs to continue. A beautiful lady such as yourself must learn to dance. Come with me.” He began to pull her toward the doors.

“Where are we going?” she laughed. He stopped and turned toward her again.

“Your laugh,” he said. “It’s so lovely.”

Her smile widened impossibly further. “I’m happy.”

“I can tell.” He could only see half her face, but the beaming smile, the laughter and joy in her eyes had him completely under her spell, and he would happily remain there.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“Hmmm?” he asked, startled out of his musings.

“Where are we going?”

He smirked and moved closer to whisper in her ear. “The private terrace.”

She turned to face him, her face inches from his. “And how would you know of the private terrace?”

Killian pulled back, staring at her in shock. Was it possible she was unaware of his identity? Not that he expected everyone to know who he was, but as a Jones, he was used to being recognized by members of London society. Even if it was only as Number 2.

“Let’s just say I have my ways.” He tugged on her hand again. “Come, dance with me.”

She took a step toward him and Killian knew his life had changed forever.

~*~*~

Emma hadn’t seen him when she arrived at the ball, but she’d felt the magic in the air, a tingling anticipation that melted into a soul-deep warmth when he appeared before her, his gloved hand outstretched. She placed her hand in his and suddenly knew that he was the reason she was here tonight.

He was tall, with artfully tousled dark hair. Sparkling blue eyes, the shade of which she’d never seen in her life, shone out from behind his mask. His strong jawline was covered with dark scruff, with just a touch of ginger evidenced under the lights. He was dressed in tight leather pants, with a black waistcoat over a white blouse which was open enough to show quite a bit of chest hair, and a long, high-collared tan coat over all.

People seemed to know who he was. When her eyes landed on his, the men who’d been fawning over her since she entered the room seemed to back away in deference, and when he’d led her out to the floor, couples already there parted for them.

He was handsome and strong, and for this one moment in time, he was hers. When the clock struck midnight, her life of drudgery would return- a life of abuse, hatred, and attending to Cora’s every wish. Shouldn’t she have this one night of dreams?

It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to dream.

She felt like a princess. And for this one night, he would be her prince.

They emerged into the hallway outside the ballroom and Emma laughed again, simply delighted with everything about the evening. Her prince paused and turned back toward her.

He ran his knuckles along her jaw as he spoke. “Your smile is so lovely, too. I like to watch you smile.” His words were low and cloaked with sincerity and she could almost believe that he meant them and she wasn’t just this evening’s conquest.

But before she could respond, they were interrupted by a blonde prince striding down the hall. “There you are!” he exclaimed as he approached them.

Emma gasped, terrified she’d been found out. But the man was looking at her prince rather than her. “Mother has been looking everywhere for you. You disappeared before dancing with Mary Margaret, and I had to take your place.”

He wore a black mask like her prince, with a white blouse underneath a dark red quilted jacket. His strong jaw and blue eyes were very similar to her prince. She looked back and forth between them before recognition dawned. They were both Jones’! And given the fact they’d both been conscripted to dance with Mary Margaret Blanchard, they must be Killian and David. Killian was her prince, for everyone knew that David Jones was the only male in the family with blonde hair.

“So sorry,” Killian murmured, not sounding the least apologetic. A fact that didn’t escape his brother’s notice. “Some things are unavoidable, I’m afraid.”

“If you leave the party and abandon me to that pack of she-devil debutantes, I swear I shall exact revenge until my dying day.”

“A chance I’m willing to take,” Killian said, looking at Emma. She realized then that David was also staring quite intently at her.

“Good evening, milady,” he said, holding his hand out. When she placed her unoccupied hand in his, he raised it to his mouth and brushed her knuckles with his lips. “May I request an introduction?” he asked, directing his words to his brother.

“You can try your best, but I doubt you’ll succeed. I haven’t even learned the lady’s name yet, myself.”

“You haven’t asked,” Emma replied, with a smirk.

He turned fully toward her. “And would you have told me if I had?”

Emma shrugged. “I’d have told you something.”

“But not the truth,” Killian rejoined, his eyebrow raised at her and a smirk on his face. Emma felt her cheeks heat at the teasing gesture.

“Tonight isn’t a night for truth.” David tilted his head in question at her response and Killian glared at him.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he growled.

David shook his head. “I’m quite sure Mother would prefer for me to be in the ballroom, but it’s hardly required.”

“I require it.”

Emma felt a giggle bubble in her throat.

“Very well,” David sighed. “I shall take myself off, then.”

“Excellent,” said Killian.

“To face the ravenous wolves.”

“Wolves?” Emma questioned.

“Eligible young ladies,” David clarified. “Ravenous wolves, the lot of them. Present company excluded, of course.” Killian rolled his eyes. “My mother would like nothing better than to see my dear older brother married off.” Killian groaned. “Except, perhaps, to see me married off.”

“If only to get you out of the house,” Killian commented drily.

“But then again, you are so much more ancient than I am, brother. Perhaps you should be the first to the gallows, er, altar, I mean.”

This time Emma did giggle.

“Do you have a point?” Killian asked, exasperated in the extreme.

“None, whatsoever. I swear, brother.” David’s eyes were full of false innocence and Emma couldn’t have stopped smiling if her life depended on it. “So then,” he continued, looking back at Emma and motioning with a grand flourish of his arm, “will you take pity on my long-suffering mother and chase my brother down the aisle?”

“Well, he hasn’t asked,” she quipped.

“How much have you had to drink?” Killian grumbled.

“Me?” Emma asked.

“No, him,” Killian replied.

“Nothing at all,” David assured them, “but I am seriously considering remedying that fact. It’ll likely be the only thing to make this evening bearable.”

“If going after a drink removes you from my presence,” Killian said, “then it will be the only thing to make my evening bearable as well.” David grinned, jauntily turned on his heel and was gone.

“It’s nice to see two siblings that love each other so well,” Emma murmured.

Killian had been staring rather menacingly at the door through which David had disappeared when her words drew his attention back to his companion. “You call that love?”

Emma thought of Zelena and Regina, the animosity, the constant bickering and sniping between them. “I do,” she said. “It’s obvious you would lay down your life for him. And he for you, as well.”

Killian released a put upon sigh, then smiled, completely ruining the effect. “I suppose you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it.” He leaned against the wall, looking irresistibly handsome. He cocked his head at her in question. “Do you have any siblings?”

Emma thought about his question for a moment, before answering decisively, “No.”

“You took a rather long time to answer that,” he mused. “I’d think it’d be a rather simple question, not requiring much thought.”

Emma turned her head away from him, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. She’d always wanted a family. In truth, she’d never wanted anything more. But her father had never acknowledged her as his, and Cora actively hated her. As much as she’d hoped for a sisterly relationship with Zelena and Regina before she met them, only Regina came anywhere close to being a friend, not the sister Emma had dreamed about.

“I am an only child,” Emma finally said.

“And that’s all you’re going to tell me, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded. “That is all I’m going to tell you.”

“Very well,” he answered, lifting himself from the wall and walking toward her again. “What am I permitted to ask you?”

“Nothing, really,” she said.

“You won’t tell me anything about you?” he asked, a touch of desperation in his voice. “Nothing at all?”

Emma tapped her chin, contemplating her answer. “I suppose I could tell you my favorite color is yellow,” she said, “but beyond that, I shall leave you with no clues as to my identity.”

“Why so many secrets?”

The corner of Emma’s lips rose slightly. “Says the man in a mask.”

“Well, it is a masquerade, after all.”

“This entire night is a secret.”

“It is indeed,” he agreed, his smile dimming somewhat. “Why don’t you ask me a question, then?”

Emma turned to him surprised. “You would have me ask you a question? Any question?”

“Yes,” he exclaimed. “I have no secrets.”

Emma scoffed into her hand. “I find that very difficult to believe. Everyone has secrets. Things they’re ashamed of, things they’d rather remain hidden.”

“Not me,” he countered. “I’ve never seduced a married woman, I have no gambling debts, and my parents were completely faithful to one another.”

Which meant he wasn’t a bastard. Of course he wasn’t. His words made Emma’s throat tighten in heartache. That meant he’d never pursue her, honorably anyway, if he knew that she was.

“You haven’t asked me a question,” he reminded her.

Emma blinked in surprise. He was serious. “Very well, then, wh-what is your favorite color?” she stammered.

Killian’s eyes widened. “You’re going to waste your question on that?”

“I only get one?”

He shrugged. “Seems more than fair, since you’ll not allow me any.”

“Oh, very well then. Yes,” she insisted. “I want to know your favorite color.”

“Blue,” he answered without hesitation.

“Why?” she asked.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided her. “That’s two.”

“Oh, come on,” she complained. She had to restrain herself from stamping her foot in frustration, although she couldn’t really blame him. “Is it because of the ocean, or the sky?”

Killian’s eyes narrowed at her. “Are you an artist?”

“No, why?”

“Because most people would have taken my answer and left it at that,” he explained. “But you,” he continued, “you want to know why.” He paused for a moment. “Why yellow?”

Emma took a deep breath, unsurprised that he’d turned the question back around at her. “Because of the sun, I suppose. The sunshine makes me happy. When the sun reflects off the dew on the grass…”

“There’s not much grass in London,” he observed.

Emma sighed. “No, there isn’t.”

“You’ve spent time in the country, then?” he asked.

Emma caught her breath. Lady Whistledown might know all the gossip in London, but in all of her verbiage of the Jones family in general, and Killian Jones in particular, she’d never mentioned his perceptiveness. She was going to have to mind her lips, lest she give him any clues to her true identity. She couldn’t imagine what he might be able to glean from such an innocent fact, however. She nodded.

“You never told me why your favorite color is blue.”

Killian’s eyes turned faraway. “I’m not sure. I’m surrounded by the blue eyes of my family. Except Ruby and Henry. Their eyes are green. Like our mother’s.” He leaned toward her. “Like yours.”

Emma had trouble catching her breath. When he looked into her eyes like this, it felt like he could see to her very soul. He leaned back, out of her personal space and she could breathe again.

“Everyone says the Jones’ blue eyes are like the sky on a cloudless summer day. Perhaps that is what I miss. The blue sky.”

“If it wasn’t raining, it wouldn’t be England,” Emma commented drily.

“I went to Italy once; the sun shone constantly.” His face was contemplative as he remembered.

“That sounds like heaven,” she sighed.

“Would you believe that after just a few weeks there, I missed the rain?”

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” he insisted. “I missed the rain.”

“I spend half my life grumbling about it.”

Killian laughed. “You’d miss it if it was gone.”

Emma fell silent, wondering if there was any part of her life she’d miss if it was gone. She certainly wouldn’t miss Cora or Zelena and the abuse she suffered on a daily basis. But she’d miss Granny and the other servants. She’d probably miss Regina, at least a little bit.

But it was a moot point. After this one perfect, magical night, she’d be right back to her life as usual.

She supposed she could have left Spencer House before now. If she was stronger. If she was braver. But where would she go? She’d need references to get any other type of job and Cora certainly wasn’t going to give her one.

“You’re very quiet,” Killian murmured, drawing her out of her musings.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What I would miss in my life if it were to drastically change.”

“And do you expect it to change?” He was close now. His eyes intense as they gazed into hers.

“No.”

“Do you want it to change?” he whispered.

She gripped his forearms as he laid his hands gently on her waist.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes.”

 He released her and took her gloved hands in his own, kissing each in turn. “Then we shall begin tonight. And tomorrow, you will be transformed.”

“Tonight I am transformed,” she said sadly. “Tomorrow, I will disappear.”

“Then we must pack a lifetime into this very night.”

He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his face to hers, gently brushing her lips with his own. It was her first kiss of any kind and a singularly thrilling sensation, but she couldn’t let it continue. She pulled back and away from him before it could go any further.

“Dance with me,” she begged.

She saw the disappointment in his eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by amusement. “You said you didn’t know how.”

“You said you would teach me,” she countered.

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and led her around the corner and up a staircase. At the top, they emerged in front of a pair of French doors. He opened them and led her out onto a small private terrace. It was decorated with several potted plants and housed two chaise lounges to the side. Her sense of direction was excellent, so she knew they were directly above the ball room. She could hear the music floating up from below.

“Handel,” she breathed. “My governess had a music box that played this very tune.”

“You had a governess? You obviously loved her very much.”

There was that perception again. Emma’s cheeks flamed. Why couldn’t she seem to keep her mouth shut around him?

“Is it that obvious?”

Killian grinned, a sort of roguish, smug smirk that made Emma realize she might be better off gluing her lips shut for the rest of the evening.

“Yes. I can see it on your face. The same way I could see that you prefer the country to the city.”

“Well, I did spend more time with her than anyone else in the household.”

“That sounds like a lonely upbringing,” he mused.

“In some ways it was, in others, not so much.”

“You’re such an enigma.”

Emma’s lips lifted in a small smile. “Good.” She paused for a moment. “You didn’t have a lonely upbringing, obviously. All those brothers and sisters running about.”

“You know who I am, then?”

She nodded. “I didn’t at first.”

He grinned. For some reason, that information delighted him. “What gave me away?”

“Your brother,” she answered honestly. “Everyone knows David is the only Jones brother with blonde hair, and since he was perturbed with you about leaving him to the ‘wolves’, as he described them, I knew you had to be the other eligible Jones brother, Killian.”

“You’re quite the detective.”

Emma shrugged. “It wasn’t terribly hard to put together, with as much as Lady Whistledown writes about the Jones family.”

“Ah ha!” he exclaimed. “Now we come to it. You know about me from Lady Whistledown.” His smile was broad again, and Emma found herself responding to it in kind. “So what else do you know about me from Lady Whistledown?”

Too caught up in the back and forth between them, Emma wracked her brain for things she’d read about Killian Jones over the years, completely throwing caution to the wind.

“I know you won some silly horse race last month in Hyde Park.”

Killian was indignant. “It wasn’t silly. And I’m a hundred quid richer for it.”

Emma rolled her eyes at him, a smile on her face.

“I know that you once lopped off the head of one of your sister’s dolls.”

“I’m still wondering how that blasted woman found out about that.”

“Perhaps she’s a Jones,” Emma observed.

“Impossible,” Killian declared. “Not that none of the Jones are smart enough to pull it off, but if she were, we’re too smart not to have figured it out by now.”

“I know your name has not been seriously linked with any young lady of the ton,” she continued, “and that your mother despairs of ever seeing you married.”

Killian wondered if she realized just how many clues to her identity she’d just given him. If she only recognized him because of what was written in Lady Whistledown, then she obviously hadn’t been out in society long. And if she knew about the doll- which Whistledown had written about in the early days of her column, two years before- he knew she had been in London at the same time. Because while Whistledown was now delivered all the way out to the country, in the early days, it had strictly been for Londoners. So she’d been brought up in the country, with a governess, but had been in London for at least the last two years, and yet, not out in society. There was also the matter of her hesitation when she talked about family. A most puzzling conundrum.

Killian shrugged. “The pressure has somewhat lessened of late with the marriage of my brother.”

“The Viscount?”

Killian nodded.

“Whistledown wrote about that, too,” she observed. “In great detail, I might add.”

“Well,” Killian hedged, “she didn’t have all the facts. Lady Whistledown doesn’t know everything that goes on in society.”

“She seems to.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.” His gaze sharpened as he gazed at her. “But I’d venture to say that if she were here on this terrace, Lady Whistledown wouldn’t know your identity. Am I right?”

Emma nodded. “But I’m so well disguised, no one would know who I am.”

“What if you removed your mask? Would she recognize you then?”

Emma’s eyes widened behind her mask and Killian took just a bit of satisfaction from that.

“I don’t think I’m going to answer that,” she said, turning from him and leaning along the edge of the terrace.

“I didn’t think you would.” She could hear him approach behind her. The heat from his body enveloped her and she turned toward him, catching her breath. He was inches away from her and his gaze behind the mask rooted her in place. Emma couldn’t speak. Nor could she breathe through the searing connection between them. Intense blue fire filled his eyes. Here was a man used to getting what he wanted, and right now, he wanted her. There was also an honesty and a strength in his gaze that she desperately wanted to lose herself in. If anyone could take her away from the life she now led, this man could.

This was anticipation. Desire. This is what a gently bred lady shouldn’t even know about. But she wasn’t a gently bred lady. She wasn’t a member of the ton, nor would she ever be. Being alone with him on this terrace was enough to ruin a reputation, but she didn’t have one to begin with. So why should she abide by society’s rules?

She’d always sworn to herself that she would be no one’s mistress. She refused to condemn any child she bore to her own fate as a bastard, but there were miles between one dance, one embrace, one kiss, and falling into his bed and staying there for as long as he’d have her, betraying herself in the process. She desperately wanted this one night. This one night of fantasy.

She lifted her chin, getting lost in the cerulean depths of his eyes.

“You’re not going to run away, then? ” he murmured. She shook her head, realizing that he’d read her once again. She should have been afraid at how easily he seemed to do that, but right now, with this something flaring between them, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Are you going to teach me how to dance?” she breathed.

Killian’s smile rivaled the sun she loved so much. “In a waltz, there’s only one rule,” he said, positioning her hand on his shoulder and taking her other hand in his own, “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

He began to lead her in a basic three step. It was only moments before her foot came down on his.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried, looking up into his face again.

“My sisters have done far worse,” he assured her. “Let’s try again. Can you hear the music?” She shook her head. “Close your eyes and listen closely.”

She did as he bade and in moments she could hear the soft swell of the music over the low murmuring of the crowd below.

“One, two, three, One, two, three,” he murmured in her ear. “Do you feel that? The rise and fall of the music?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He smiled. She didn’t know how she knew he smiled, but she could feel it in the tenor of his voice. “Good. Now watch our feet and allow me to lead you.”

She opened her eyes and looked down. They tried again, and she was suddenly doing it.

“Oh,” she gasped. “This is wonderful!”

“Look up,” he ordered gently.

“But, I’ll stumble again.”

“You won’t. I won’t let you,” he assured her. “You appear to be a natural.” She could hear the smile in his voice again and looked up into his eyes. At that moment, something clicked inside her. He led her in the waltz, twirling her around the terrace, slowly at first, then picking up speed until she was breathless and giddy.

He brought her back close, holding her tightly against him. “What do you feel? In your heart.”

Emma couldn’t speak as she tried to catch her breath. His hard, lean body was solid against hers and she wished she could melt into that strength and never leave.

His hand on the small of her back pressed ever so slightly as he spoke again, more urgently this time. “Answer me. Please.”

“I-” She could barely get it out, but whatever tomorrow would bring, she owed him at least this. “I feel everything,” she admitted. “Joy… fear… anticipation…”

“What do you hear?”

“The music.” She paused. “Like I never have before.”

“And what do you see?”

“I see you.” Her words were only a whisper now. “I see… I see…” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say that she saw her very soul in the depths of his blue eyes. The moment was too charged. She was too vulnerable. If she were to admit that here, now- for she could see that he felt the same- if she were to admit the truth to him and he did the same, she’d be lost to him forever, and she couldn’t be unfaithful to herself in that way. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t,” she breathed. “Please don’t speak. Please don’t make me say it.”

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, his eyes darting between hers. “I won’t speak. I won’t say a word.” And then his lips were on hers. It was different this time, no less thrilling than it was earlier, but now he was more forceful. Their first kiss, if you could even call it that, was only a brushing of lips, but this was a full possession of her mouth, still gentle and achingly tender, but cloaked in passion and desire. She was powerless against it. When his tongue touched the seam of her lips, seeking entrance, she opened for him, shuddering in his arms.

The hand in the small of her back, the one that had led her through the waltz, exerted gentle pressure, bringing her even closer to him. She felt very small in his embrace, safe, warm, protected. And like the most beautiful woman in the world.

It made her think anything was possible. Perhaps even a life without servitude and stigma.

One hand moved to the back of her head as his lips left hers and peppered kisses across her jaw and down the slope of her neck. Shivers of pleasure ran down her spine as she lifted her chin to grant him more access.

“Your hair is like silk,” he murmured into her skin.

Emma couldn’t help it. A sudden laugh burst out of her. He pulled back, an amused expression on his face.

“And now what are you laughing at?”

“How do you know my hair is like silk when you have gloves on?” A boyish grin spread across his lips.

“I don’t know how I know. But I do,” he insisted. “But just in case, perhaps I should test that with my bare hands.” He held his hand up to her. “Would you, perhaps, do the honors, milady?”

She couldn’t take her eyes off of his as she gently tugged at each finger in turn and then pulled the entire glove off. The expression in his eyes was something she’d never seen before. Hunger… and something else. Something almost spiritual. His hand cupped her face, the pads of his fingers moving gently across her skin. The tingling left in their wake threatened to completely undo her. They reached up until they ran through the tendrils left loose from her chignon.

“I was wrong,” he murmured. “It’s softer than silk.”

Emma was suddenly overtaken by a desire to touch him the same way. She pulled back slightly and held up her own hand in between them.

“It’s my turn.”

Something flared within his eyes and he grasped her hand with his gloved hand while the other worked at the fingers of her glove. But instead of drawing it down her arm and removing it, he pulled her close and brought his lips to the edge of the glove, all the way at her elbow, and kissed the sensitive skin on the inside of her arm.

“Also softer than silk,” he pressed into her skin. Now he slowly, agonizingly slowly, drew the glove down her arm, following with his lips. Her skin was on fire and she grabbed his shoulder with her other hand, no longer confident in her ability to stand. Just below her elbow, he glanced up, barely breaking the kiss. “You don’t mind if I stay here for a bit?”

Emma couldn’t speak, so she shook her head instead. His tongue darted out and traced the bend of her arm. Emma gasped in pleasure.

“Thought you’d like that.” His words were hot against her skin. She nodded. Or at least, she thought she did. His lips continued his trail down her arm until they paused at her wrist. He remained there for a moment before he pressed a kiss into the very center of her palm and then looked up.

“Who are you?”

She shook her head.

“Please,” he begged. “I have to know.” She stood as still as a statue. He raised her hand to his lips and began running them along her knuckles. “I want to call on you tomorrow. I want to meet your parents. I want to pet your dog. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She still couldn’t move, but tears filled her eyes.

“I want…” His eyes were surprised, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words. “I want your future. I want every little part of you.”

She felt a tear slip past her eyelid and she closed her eyes, steeling herself against the emotion in his.

“Don’t say another word. Please. I can’t bear it.”

“Then tell me your name. Tell me how to find you tomorrow.”

“I…” The clanging of bells interrupted her. “What is that?”

“It’s the signal for the unmasking.”

“What?”

“It must be midnight.”

“Midnight?” she gasped, her hand flying to her mask in alarm. “I have to go!” She gathered her skirts in her hands and ran from the terrace.

“Wait!” She heard him call behind her, but she didn’t dare stop. She wiped the stray tears from her face as she flew down the stairs, chastising herself the entire way for completely falling under Killian’s spell and not paying attention to the time.

She arrived at the ballroom doors and whimpered in dismay as she spied her destination on the other side of a wall of people all taking off their masks with delighted laughter and frivolity. She turned to see Killian just reaching the bottom of the stairs behind her. There was nothing for it. She plunged into the sea of humanity, murmuring apologies and excusing herself as she went.

Suddenly she found herself face to face, or face to mask rather, with none other than her stepmother. Why did it have to be her? For if anyone here tonight would recognize her, it would be Cora. Emma caught her breath and tried to keep the terror out of her eyes and words as she excused herself yet again.

“Watch where you’re going,” Cora snapped. Emma watched with open mouth as Cora swished her skirts and walked away. Cora hadn’t recognized her! If she wasn’t so terrified and frantic to get out of the Jones house before Killian caught up with her, she would have laughed with relief. She looked behind her and saw that he’d spotted her. He was making his way across the ballroom with much more efficiency than she had done. With renewed determination, Emma moved forward until she reached the far doors.

There was the Spencer carriage, just like Granny said it would be. She turned and saw that Killian had been waylaid by David, but his visage was thunderous as he caught her eyes. She ran down the steps and into the waiting carriage.

“Go, go, go!” she cried to the driver. And with a crack of the whip, a trundle of wheels, and the clipping of hooves on the cobblestones, she was gone.

~*~*~

Killian could have murdered his brother for stopping him when he’d nearly caught up with his mystery lady. By the time he’d extracted himself and made it outside to the square, she was nowhere to be found.

David, horrified that he’d thwarted Killian’s pursuit, was most apologetic when he returned to the ballroom.

“And you never got her name?” David asked, incredulously.

“She refused to tell me,” Killian exploded. “It was a masquerade ball, brother, in case you didn’t notice!” He hated to sound so hateful, but he was truly at his wits end and had no patience for nonsense.

David took no offense and simply rolled his eyes at his brother. “Yes, I’m aware. But we still recognized most everyone here. And you’re sure you’d never met her before?”

“Never,” he assured him.

David spied the glove Killian still held in his hand. “Is this hers?”

Killian looked down. He’d quite forgotten he still held it in his hand. Hope flared in his chest. “Yes.” He brought it up to his face to get a closer look.

“It has a crest and initials, too,” David observed.

“Do you recognize the crest?” Killian asked.

David shook his head. “No, but Mother will.”

Killian speared him with a look. “I’d like to avoid that scenario, if at all possible.”

David laughed good-naturedly and slapped Killian on the back. “Don’t blame you. But I honestly don’t see any way around it.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “You’re probably right. Damn. Of all the women Mother has trotted out before me, and now I finally found one, I’m going to need her help to find her!”

And he knew it wouldn’t be easy. It was never easy to find someone who didn’t want to be found. And she most definitely didn’t want to be found. She’d made it quite clear that he’d never see her again after tonight. But he had to try. A few dropped hints concerning Lady Whistledown’s column, and this glove. It was all he had to go on.

He’d find her. He’d find her and make her his. Or his name wasn’t Killian Jones.

~*~*~

Thirty minutes after her arrival home, Emma was returned to her true self.

The gown, mask, and slippers had all been returned to where they belonged. Her hair taken down, her makeup scrubbed off.

The princess was gone. The housemaid reappeared.

She crawled into bed, her hand knitted baby blanket bunched up under her chin, and let the tears fall for the life, for the man, she’d never have.

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I’d love to hear what you thought! Ch3 will be up on Wednesday!

#a mistress to no one #birthday fic for hollye #krystal writes #art by krystal #manips by kit

[covenscribe]

Author Ask Tag

Thank you so much to @palebdot for tagging me! Everyone check out his post about The Clockwork Boy!

1. What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

Do not destroy yourself for the sake of acceptance is always a really important point in stories for me as well as the importance of found family. Also final girls deserve a revenge arc.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

Honestly a big inspiration point for The Scarlet Sacrament is that summer time is Too Damned Hot and I knew I wanted to place the Scarlet Sacrament in the winter so Im just, escaping into my imaginary winter tundra lol. The idea for the plot came to me during world building for another series based in my fantasy world Remquil when I realized I wanted vampires and werewolves in the setting so the Scarlet series is all about how Vampires were created.

3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

Forgiveness is for CHUMPS Ahem, so for main character Isravys I want to have readers see her downfall and triumphs. I want people to feel like after something awful happens to them they should keep going. And the revenge catharsis.

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

I am aiming for 30 chapters with and average of 3,000 words each

5. Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! The first draft will be posted on my Patreon weekly once I’ve finished outlining it

6. When and why did you start writing?

My chronic depression started showing up when I was six or seven and it was pretty isolating so writing and making art helped me deal with being alone so much.

7. Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

But seriously just write the thing!!! Let it feed your soul!!! Or many souls!!

As for who I follow I definitely recommend @/natalieironside @/thebibliosphere as the first authors I followed here and who are on my insta-buy list. I have not spoken to them directly though so Im not gonna tag them directly lol

I will however will tag my good friend @captain-kraken , writblr community pillar @fictionalbullshitter , scribe squad @scribe-cas and @scribe-of-stories, @coffeewritesfiction @coffeexafterxmidnight, @authoralexharvey @ashen-crest @strangeauthor

Literally anyone and everyone who wants to do this one let me know and I will tag you <3

#writblr tag game #author ask tag

[mindrottinglystupid]

Hello Hello!!

This is my “say what I think and look back in a few years and cringe” blog, but also where I post (subjectively terrible) things that I write about nothing in particular. I’m a minor btw (age range: 14-16)

HUGE fan of Good Omens and Gravity Falls.

spotify (for whatever reason)

I have almost every health condition known to man so my posting WILL be sporadic and quality will vary. I will also dedicate a part of this blog to my journey through my health issues and sharing the resources I find to try and help other disabled individuals. If anyone has questions I am 100% open to answer them all :)

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The Power of Minestrone Soup (6774 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 4/14 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: LGBTQ Character, Resurrection, Magical thermos, Spanning multiple years, No Sex, No Smut, LGBTQ Themes, Car Accidents, New York, New York City, Attempt at Humor, Humor, This isn't a childrens book i swear, Abusive Father, Dead Father - Freeform, No Incest, Original Fiction, Magical Realism, POV of God, Original Universe, Gay Character, Gardens & Gardening, Minichapters, Painting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Gay Male Character, Gay Pride, Everyone Has Issues, mini chapters, Ireland, Learning how to paint, Ducks, A lot of ducks, Angst, Gay main couple, Birds, painting birds, Hospital Visit, Main character ends up in the Hospital, Feel-good, In a way, Trans, Trans Female Character, Trans Character, Writers, Drag Queens, Gay Bar, lots of gay, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Is Alive, Maybe - Freeform, Everyone is Queer, Queer Themes, Queer Character, Queer Youth, Queer Families, Queer Friendly, Angst and Feels, Cussing, Homophobic Language, only a scene or two, cursing Summary:

Michael Jones, a Computer Specialist at the Undisclosed Corporate Company, works every day from 5:30 to 6:30, respectively. Nothing different ever happens to Michael until he dies in a car crash on his way to work. This doesn’t last, as he wakes up clueless about the last 15 hours, holding his baby blue thermos filled with Minestrone Soup. He now has to work through the rest of his life trying to figure out why he is so attached to the thermos, who exactly he was before, and if that person is worth being.

For You (431 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Poetry, Love, Love Poems, Destruction, Self-Sacrifice, Long poetry, seriously this might not be considered poetry at this point Summary: I turned on music, zoned out, and wrote. This is what came of it.

The Girl in the Woods (626 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Own Work of Fiction - Fandom, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Apple & Meitene Additional Tags: Own work of fiction, Adoptive Daughter, Short Story, 1800's, living off the land, Gardening, taking care of animals, sfw, No Smut, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Family Fluff, No Drama, Quick Read Summary: A short story I wrote a while back about an Old woman and her adoptive daughter. Set back in the 1800's (roughly).

What They Created (732 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Own Work of Dystopia, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Short Story, Possibly more chapters, Dystopia, Own Work of Dystopia - Freeform, No Smut, No Sex, POV First Person Summary: I cannot think outside of the box. I do not have free will. If I do, They will find out. 3 strikes, and then I'm gone.

All of my Poetry (2461 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 33/33 Fandom: Poetry - Fandom, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Poetry, Bad Poetry, I'm Bad At Tagging, Sad, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Recovery, Rhyming, Originally Posted on Tumblr, poems by chapter, POV Alternating, Emotions, Poetic Summary: This is all of the Poetry I've written (also posted on Tumblr) in one place! I'll put each poem in a different chapter. I might post them separately, but right now, this is the easiest.

The Unlucky Humphrey's (1104 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Original Work, Childrens Story - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Children, Children story, Funny short story, Short Story, Boarding School, Summer, Start of School, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Comedy, idk how to use tags, I'm not good at summarys Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Humphrey had a very long Summer trying to control their son Sam. Summer's almost over, but how on earth are they going to get through it? This is a VERY short story about two tired parents and a boy who has too much energy for his own good. (I'm not good at Summary's)

———————————————————————

I’m Demisexual/Abrosexual and my gender basically changes depending on the humidity. I’m autistic with horrible anxiety and a crippling fear of crane flies. That’s all you need to know.

And if you like anything I post reblogs help TONS more than likes!!

more abt me below the cut

Other interests:

-Space (specifically astronomy but also aerospace engineering)

-Biology and Environmental Science

-Chemistry (when it comes to space)

-Writing essays on literally anything

-Cinematography

-Knitting really colorful things only

Sexual Orientation Explanation:

Demisexual means that I only ever feel attracted to someone if I get to know them well enough as friends first. Abrosexual means that I might identify as a Lesbian one second and the next i might identify as Bi. My gender changing depending on the humidity is something a witch cursed me with at birth because my mom said she didn’t like her haircut but that pretty much sums up to I’m genderfluid 🤷‍♀️

#about myself #ao3 writer #ao3 link #archive of our own #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writeblr

[leos-regression-cove]

Fandom content Info:

If you have any agere content you'd like to see, hit up my inbox and I'll write a little blurb for you :)

What fandoms do I write for?

(Starred fandoms are open during limited requests.)

Marvel (I specialize with Loki, but I'll write for most character/franchises)* (Loki or Mainline Avengers⭐)

Parks and Recreation ⭐

Good Omens ⭐

Bee and Puppycat

What We Do In The Shadows⭐

Our Flag Means Death⭐

Abbot Elementary⭐

Ghosts UK ⭐and US

Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (I haven't finished season 5)

Community⭐

30 Rock

M*A*S*H

Futurama

Adventure Time

Transformers (Original Series)⭐

Steven Universe

Animaniacs

Monk ⭐

(*To an extent*) Better Call Saul (and CG!Jessie Breaking Bad)

(*To an extent*) It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia⭐

*Note: it has been brought to my attention how BIG the Marvel Cinematic Universe really is and the fact that I have missed MOST of the tv shows. Please be patient about: Daredevil, Punisher, Agents of Shield, She Hulk, Moongirl & Devil Dinosaur, Werewolf by Night, and Moon Knight while I catch up.

If it's not on the list, shoot over a DM or ask and I'll see what I can do.

What content am I willing to write?

agere content (please specify if you're requesting physical regression)

non-agere content

Violence (It will be properly tagged and warned for.)

Whump, angst, and hurt/comfort

Xreaders

Shipping/romance (not used while a character is regressed, otherwise underage, etc. Keep it legal, keep it ethical.)

Fluff!

AUs

Chapters for preexisting fics!

No real people. (No bands, YouTubers, or actors)

(If you have a writing prompt which is nsfw please go to my main blog @goatmilksoda and I'll answer it there. I'd like to keep this blog sfw)

All pieces of writing uploaded on here will also be uploaded to AO3. If you don't want this, or don't want your username in the notes, please note that in your request.

Ongoing fics and AO3:

Also I write on AO3! You can find my work under the name goatmilksoda (just like my main blog)

Here are my main fics:

Nothing In The Parenting Books Prepared Me For This: my longest running fic, It's >200k words of cute regressor!Loki and flip!Sylvie with (usually) caregiver!Mobius fluff.

All The Lessons I Never Learned: a modern New York AU about permaregressed preschooler!Thor coming from Norway to live with Loki, who hardly knows him. As they adjust, they meet little!Sylvie and caregiver!Mobius who help guide them through some everyday challenges.

Lets Get This Over With: Post-season 1, Loki is pushed through the portal into a version of Asgard where Littles are common and everyone expects him to be the royal baby.

If you'd prefer to access my fics via Tumblr here are the masterposts for three: All The Lessons I Never Learned, Nothing in the Parenting Books, The New Little. [NOTE: as of February 2nd 2023, Tumblr accessible updates will cease. All new chapters are exclusively uploaded on AO3]

#fandom agere #marvel agere #agere fanfic #sfw agere #agere blog #sfw little blog #loki agere #fluff #agere writing #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #info post #🎠chatter

[residentdormouse]

About (me) This Blog

Hey, I'm Mouse! 👋 I'm a 30-something old millennial, just living on Tumblr for a fun escape from the daily bullshit. This had been solely Stand FanFiction before, but since it's bound to expand to different fandoms here soon, I figured my intro should adjust accordingly.

I am but a humble fanfic writing, doodle drawing, nonsense producing Tumblrite. I mean, we're all here for fun right? Right?? Well, I am, so I'm gonna do it anyways. Embrace the cringe. Or is it cringe is dead? Meh, same concept... Some of my stuff has smut (smut lite, if we're being honest), so 18+ and all that jazz - heed warnings, etc. But smut aside, there's bound to be lots of smoking and swearing and violence; that's pretty unavoidable.

If you're just here to talk about fandoms, writing, art, Blorbos, music, anything truly, I'm pretty open for conversation. Just drop an ask or a DM. I don't bite, promise. I'm here for community, 100%.

(I'm on discord too - ResidentDormouse)

FanFiction Masterlist:

The Stand (2020)

Jumping to Wonderland - Main Post w. Links

This page contains everything I have for this OC insert series: artwork, asks, backstories that never made it to AO3, chapter summaries, as well as the links to the stories themselves. Basically all the things you'd see on Blu-ray/DVD features, cause that's still a thing, right?

Supply Run (and other Stand One Shots)

A series of single serving One-Shot stories before/during/after canon. Canon compliant.

Stranger Things:

Even in Death

A Short Drabble post Season 4, using the prompt "Did you think they could protect you", a ghost, and Eddie Munson.

Original Works:

Close to the Vale: WIP

Intro post to an original story I'm starting. This is a full collection of links, character backgrounds, and other information as it's released. Updating on AO3 as I go. Come and hold me accountable for writing on time.

Random Drabbles/Flash Fiction:

Dream Shop Prompt, Sidekick Prompt, Dark Chatroom Prompt, Song Prompt (1)

Baldur's Gate 3 Works:

(Still in progress - just finished the game not long ago, but damn has the wizard taken over my brain. Expect more to show up here soon)

Art:

Team: Gale Needs a Hug

I also reblog shit posts. A lot. And I reblog other's stories, because that what we do here, yeah? Community. Should anything not be your jam, here's my typical tags to block:

#Mouse's Friend's OCs #Mouse's Friend's Stories #Mouse's Friend's Art #Mouse is back on her Nonsense #Mouse's Tag Games & Reblogs

That said -- Welcome! -- Always feel free to say 'Hi!'

#Back on My Nonsense #Pinned Post #Intro to My Blog

[pheita]

Author Ask Game

I was tagged by @sam-glade I am tagging @writernopal @eternalwritingstudent @radley-writes @tabswrites @elshells

1. What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

Phew, I never choose the lessons or moral of a story before I write. I am somewhere between a planer and a pantser which means it crystallizes while I write. Blood Night: I think the main lesson is overcoming the past, facing your fears to do so, and be able to have a peaceful future. Sojan, his sister Arritit, and Lyran all somehow have to face the actions of their fathers and come to terms with their past to be able to move on, and in case of Sojan and Lyran, to be able to have a relationship. Ironically, all of this is tied to saving the world. Always Prepared The main lesson is trust, friendship, and allowing yourself to be happy. Nesryn, the MC, never allowed herself to be happy because of her trust issues, and after she ends up in a different dimension, she somehow makes friends with some of the inhabitants there without realizing it, leading to the ultimate question of : Where is her home? Sea of Memories, Sea of Chances: Simple and easy this time: It is never too late to follow your dream.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)? Blood Night: Witcher, Monster Hunter, Dragon Age and mixed and shook it up to give it my own twist. Various places on the continent have either some aesthetic or a culture as base, for example Lyran's home country of Wealmore is based a lot on 18th -19th century Italy, the city of the elves is based on the idea of living in/with the forest you see in multiple native tribes that live in dense forests/forests with thick trees. Always Prepared: I think there is any media even if you could argue it being some sort of Isekai, it draws a lot of solarpunk ideas and green architecture/cities Sea of Memories, Sea of Chance: Mostly Pirate of the Caribbean, but there is a bit of One Piece in there maybe. 3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

I don't want to achieve anything besides telling a hopefully interesting story. If any of them inspire someone, or help someone through something they go through: Wonderful, that is what art of any kind is meant to do, but I don't consciously aim for any of it.

Where my MCs always just try to live a good live, I mostly tell the story first to myself and the few people who are willing to listen. Sure, sometimes I can be philosophical and with me my characters, but it is more a spur of the moment thing. 4. How many chapters is your story going to have? Blood Night: I don't know, I didn't count in the finished draft but must be roughly somewhere between 30 and 40. Always Prepared: It's 12 plus and an epilogue Sea of Memories, Sea of Chances: The old draft had 10, but since I am going to add a sideplot in the re-write, it might end up around 12 or 14. 5. Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it? All of it are original stories. I had Wattpad like forever ago but deleted it. So far I only have posted some stuff from Blood Night on my sideblog for the WIP because it became massive and a whole series with side branches over @lagawood-guildhouse So far, I only post on Tumblr even if I am thinking sporadically of other ways but never actually do it. I don't want to publish anything traditional, and I don't know if I will do self pub. 6. When and why did you start writing? I was around 12 and started with fanfiction without knowing it was fanfiction lol The first original stories came when I was around 15 or 16 because I had ideas and wanted to do my own thing. Somehow, I always told stories, way before I started writing. 7. Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

I just can say, don't be shy. The majority of writers are happy to talk to new folks. Find your folks, even if they are just two or three people, who will enable every stupid idea of yours and hype you up when you feel down. Try to be excited for others and not jealous. We are all in this together.

And I always recommend @eternalwritingstudent because my dear friend who I suffered with through multiple re-writers of her WIP now is an awesome storyteller with a loveable bunch of characters and an engaging style. If you don't follow @ashen-crest already, do it now, because she is awesome, she is lovely, and if you love stupid masochistic bards, over-excited spirits and potion shenanigans she is your woman.

I am sorry, I can list more, I am completely out of the loop still due to my hiatus.

#writblr #pheita talks #tag game

[vacantgodling]

author tag

thank you mj ( @mjjune ) beloved <3

i’ll do these for paramoiiiiii (which is pronounced para-MWAH bc i’m kissing it)

1) What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

oof. paramour has a lot of things going on in it, a lot of which are unintentional but evolved as i began to piece together the characters and the narrative. i don’t think paramour can be boiled down to a singular “main lesson” because i don’t think there’s really a lesson to be HAD. you can definitively read paramour for all of the deep thoughts i have about religion, masculinity, sex, gender presentation, and societal expectations, as well as like the horrors and suffering that greed can bring… or you can just read it as two guys who take the most stupid roundabout way to realize maybe the sex does have feelings. maybe the porn in fact has a little plot.

a lot of the messages woven into paramour have been marinating and maturing in me since 2020 tbh when i really started to allow me to be yknow. MYSELF. and so because i love them they got the projection beam as ya do.

2) What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

paramour is inspired chiefly by steampunk, rococo fashion, and france. lmao. the entire universe that paramour is in (which includes wips like alizath, teardrops, and that one wip that is new and budding but doesn’t have a name yet) is inspired by me bastardizing and colorizing (aka making every mc and all the characters black) europe bc i’m tired of fantasy, mythology, and history and all the things that i enjoy as a person being dictated and delegated to white people. so a lot of it is also “writing the story that i want to see” etc etc.

paramour specifically was also inspired by (but has moved away from QUITE a bit): hamlet, crimson peak, beauty & the beast, gothic literature (that aspect has heavily stayed) and stuff like that. it’s original name was beauty and the crimson hamlet and it was more of a haunted house thing vs what it’s evolved into now lol.

3) What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

hya is honestly trying to achieve being left the fuck alone and he doesn’t succeed LMAO. i’m not really trying to achieve anything with hya particularly (again you can read into all the things that i put into him and the narrative or he can be just some guy and both are correct tbh) — other than extreme wish fulfillment. though it may not seem this way because hya is a raging dick, he’s ideally what type of person i want to be like in Extreme fantasy land. i wish i was joking but i ain’t. and as such, he gets forgiven of a lot of the things that he does by the narrative or gets his own little happy ending and reasonings why he’s like this which i know some or many people will take issue with. him leaving a corpse in the foyer for example—many will describe him as cruel and callous and “problematic” and they’re right! love that for him 💛 i’m not trying to inspire anyone but myself like when i tell you that paramour is a wip written by me and for me i mean it LOOOOOL like idgaf about what anyone thinks of it 💀 (though i am so happy so many people love paramour as much as i do i didn’t think anyone would care about these assholes but many of my dear friends and other followers have proved me wrong and it’s validating tbh lol)

4) How many chapters is your story going to have?

current outline says 27 but i’m thinking it’s gonna lean closer to 30 just because as i write i realize i need to add in a filler chapter or two. so i’ll say it’ll probably end up being 30–at MAX 35 chapters probably.

5) Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

original 💛 and i still don’t particularly know where i want to publish it meaning idk if i want to go for indie which makes more sense or tryyyy to get trad published but. with the content paramour is and the way the publishing industry is i somehow highly doubt i can get it trad pub. so nothing but snippets online (tumblr) for now. maybe if i go indie i’ll make it readable on a website or whatever cuz i’m not really keen on putting it on amazon. but i may just for the reach. idk! i’m just trying to finish it first.

6) When and why did you start writing?

if we’re talking generally speaking i’ve been making stories since i was like 3 years old. paramour in itself however i made juneteenth (6/19) of 2021. i can’t remember WHY i started it so much as i remember just wanting a wip inspired by crimson peak perhaps? and we have gone WAAAAY off from that but yknow. we move lol.

7) Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

honestly just write for you. take all advice with a grain of salt and don’t worry about what others think of your writing/your ideas/whatever. there’s something for everyone and you’ll find your people.

other writeblrs/artists/creators whatever i follow and would recommend (and tag to do this if ya want no pressure) are: @kudzucataclysm @henrike-does-writing-sometimes @kazenokaori @magic-is-something-we-create @void-botanist @outpost51 @isherwoodj & consider this an open tag if you would also like to do this :)

#about renjamin #s: paramour

[polizwrites]

WIP Update - 15 Mar 2023

aA more normal week, writing wise.   I touched 4  fics (1 WIPs & 3 new works)  for a total of  2139 words.  

On Ao3, I posted:

The second and final chapter of  Wraps Around My Heart (Refusing to Unwind)  [WinterIron hanahaki]

The Captain and the Soldier   [Stucky prose poem double drabble]

On Tumblr I posted: 

Not Having Fun Down on the Bayou   [SamBucky mission shenanigans]

I have  13  active WIPs  with my current  deadlines being  the Stucky and Avengers bingos.  

See below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc.  As always, feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects  or any other WIPs I’ve got out there.   Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Seek & Destroy Collab

After reading @psychiccatpanda‘s amazing  Morguna and the Green Queen, I got the itch to explore the Soldier’s POV and talked  Faustie into collab’ing with me!  We’re working on a new part of the series, and I’ve contributed about 478 words so far.   

Stucky Bingo Round Four [SB_R4] (Ends 31 May 2023)

Fourteen fills and one WIP with a couple of other vague ideas.

* B1 - Mutual Pining -  no specific idea, but it’s so On Brand for me I’m sure I’ll come up with something!  (maybe  the Centerfold fic idea I’ve been toying with)

* B2 - “Hold on. You can’t even drive a car.” - Used this for the March Stucky Bingo Discord party Round Robin this past weekend.  I kicked off a wartime  mission fic by writing 325 words - will share the link once it’s posted. 

* N1 - AU: Fairytale - Posted  The Captain and the Soldier  to Ao3 this morning - I stretched this prompt a little to combine it with the FFC23 Day 15: Ice prompt for a double drabble that is vaguely inspired by The Snow Queen (Hans Christian Andersen).    

* O4 - AU: Supernatural - got inspired by a dream to start a Stucky fantasy AU (magician!Steve/ensorcelled!Bucky) that @bill-longbow  is collaborating on with me. We’re currently sitting at 1640 words  (984-ish of which are mine).   Will probably continue on this sometime in March.   Current Last Line:  "My men will accompany you back to Brookline in the morning.”

I also adopted the Writing Format: Remix one of your fics  square  – am thinking of taking one of my Stony or WinterIron  No Powers fics and adapting it to a Stucky pairing – if you have any requests - hit me up!  

WinterIron - No Powers AU  –  Stony No Powers AU

Avengers Bingo Round Four [AvB_R4] (Ends 2 June)

This time around the card is a 3x3,  so am looking at writing different pairings for my two favorite Avengers - Tony and Steve.    I have 3 fills completed and two WIPs, with a couple more ideas in play.

* B3 - Mistaken Identity -  I’m planning a third chapter of my Tony/Rhodey  Western AU   Decision at Sundown   based on the ficlet I wrote to fill the “Wet Your Whistle”  FFC23 prompt.   The expansion will make both this square (and probably the fic itself) more explicit.  😁

* C1 - Babysitter AU - will probably combine with ACB  babysitting square for some sort of Stucky or Stony  shenanigans;  over on the STB Discord server, MagicaDraconia16 and I are talking about a potential collab. 

* C3 - Dog Tags - seems like a good  Steve/Bucky  (or Steve/Sam?) square.

All Caps Bingo [ACB_R1]  (Ends 30 Sep 2023)

This new bingo focuses on Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson as its main characters - paired up with each other or anyone else!    I’ve got five  completed fics, two WIPs and  will be pursuing the One Fill, One Bingo Challenge -

* B1 - Knotting - Working on a Cap!Steve/Modern Sex Worker!Bucky A/B/O AU fic - up to 1296 words and they’ve barely even touched... 

* B2 - AU: Fugitive -  I combined this with the FF23 Pirate AU prompt to write  Flying the Flag of Freedom.   I plan on expanding it to bring Sam aboard (so to speak) but need to do some more research first.  

* B4 - Walk on the Beach - squished this into  Chapter 3 of   Make My Heart Come All Undone -  No Powers AU selkie!Tony / Bucky meet-cute. It came in at 948 words.

* N4 - Deserted Island -  combined this with last week’s  Flash Fiction Friday’s prompt  [#FFF192 Sea and Sun]   for Not Having Fun Down on the Bayou - Sam & Bucky missionfic  shenanigans.  It will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends.

* G4 - Babysitting - see  AvB Babysitting AU above.

* O3 - Pararescue Sam Wilson - may try to squish this into an expansion of   A Rising Star -  a previous Flash Fiction Friday fill. 

Sam Wilson Bingo [SWB_R3]  (Ends 15 Oct 2023)

Finally got my square incorporated into my Master Bingo tracking workbook and have one fill.  I have a few squares I want to swap & will probably start tacking this and the All Caps bingo in earnest this month.

G1 - Rescue Mission  -  I combined this with last week’s  @flashfictionfridayofficial​ prompt [#FFF190 Trapped in the Dark] to write a Sam & Bucky mission fic  hurt/comfort ficlet:   Down in the Hole (Some Emotions Are Hard to Hide) It came in at  525  words and will get posted to Ao3 sometime next month.  

* G3 - Joaquin Torres - see ACB Pararescue Sam Wilson above.

WinterIron Bingo  - [WIB_R1]   (Ends 16 Dec 2023)

A brand new bingo event that I’m helping mod!   Signups for custom cards began on the 10th and will run through the 10th of April.   For more info visit  @bingowinteriron or PM me. 

Still getting my thoughts together on what to match up with other cards, but I think I’m going to try to combine my B column squares for the Iron Soldier badge (complete a bingo with a single work). -- Alpha Tony Stark,  “That was not my intention.”, James Rhodes, Alpine loves Tony and  Blind date

————

On other creative fronts:  I have a  Neptune the Turtle  figure in progress -  still working on the figures/props for my three Marvel Trumps Hate  auction winners as well (7 of 8 done so far) – thanks so much for your generous support!!  I also have multiple commissions from the Hall of Heroes Comic Con to work on and am prepping for a con in June  so am pretty well booked up through early summer.

That said, if you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations later in the year, check  out Stuffed With Character   over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 100!).   They’re  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design  requests  for any fandom!

#writing stuff #WIP Update #WIP Wednesday #shameless self promo

[coppoladelrey]

I posted 311 times in 2022

That's 233 more posts than 2021!

37 posts created (12%)

274 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@slayhousehightower

@cuttingedgeinc

@catelynhightower

@alicentdeservesbetter

@ewansmitchells

I tagged 307 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#house of the dragon - 107 posts

#aemond targaryen - 78 posts

#alicent hightower - 54 posts

#asoiaf - 36 posts

#aegon ii targaryen - 34 posts

#aemond targaryen x reader - 20 posts

#lana del rey - 18 posts

#self reblog - 16 posts

#answered - 11 posts

#criston cole - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 65 characters

#grrm knew that the half targs were going to be too good at ruling

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The Pretender - Masterlist

Summary: You are the spitting image of a Lady of the Reach, when she framed you for a crime you did not commit you become her and marry her betrothed, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Chapter l

Chapter ll

Chapter lll

Chapter lV

Main Masterlist

370 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#4

Cherry

A/N: I took inspiration from Lana Del Rey’s song called Cherry, I hope you guys like it. The fic is a little out there, but I love AUs and I don’t think I’ve seen one of those around. (If you know any, send them my way. I’d love to read other AUs with our favourite momma’s boy.) Please let me know what you think, as I said it’s kinda out there, even if it’s to tell me that it’s sucked lol.

Summary: You were obsessed with your History Professor, what you didn’t know was that he was obsessed with you as well.

Professor!Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: smut, power imbalance (?), dub con (but not really?), unprotected sex (I mean it’s a fic, don’t do this IRL), a bit of angst and fluff, Minors DNI.

Tag List: @aemonds-war-crime.

Masterlist

His voice was angelic, nothing could distract you from him. Professor Aemond was your history professor, Roman history was his field. You didn't need to be here, you were in STEM but you love History so you took it as an elective. It was so wrong, but you were lusting after your History Professor. You remember clear as day the first day you saw him.

You were excited about your history lesson, Roman history fascinated you that’s why you were sitting on the first row you couldn’t wait for this. There was only you and another boy in the class, which was about to start in 20 minutes. You decided to begin to do your homework from one of your classes, it was easy enough, you’d never admit that to anyone else but you were one of the smartest people in the university.

People started coming in but you paid no mind, you were in the zone and your homework was almost finished. You didn't realize that the Professor just came through the door, your pen was in your mouth and your brows were furrowed in concentration. The Professor noticed you, wearing a short skirt, tights and a turtleneck, you looked delicious but Aemond had a reputation to uphold. He was in front of you now but you didn't notice it, everyone was now looking at you.

You heard laughter from the people that shared your class, you looked up and you saw who you assumed was the Professor, he was wearing all black and he had an eye patch and scar which made him look sexy. His face was as if it was carved by God himself, his hands were behind his back and his facial expression was stern, you quickly sat up straight and closed your laptop. He kept looking at you which you only could as contempt for a few more seconds and went back to his desk.

“I am Professor Aemond Targaryen, to simply put any potential rumours at rest,” He pointed at the eye patch. “This was an unfortunate hunting accident with my nephew Luke, and my eye could not be saved.” Aemond preferred to get the story out of the way because he knew how students can get curious. “Now let’s start the class.”

The class went smoothly after that, and you were sure that his voice was going to be ingrained in your mind, it was smooth and sultry. Professor Aemond looked at you every ten minutes, not enough to raise suspicions but enough to make you aware that you were being watched. Aemond was a great professor, he didn't like to brag but it was true.

It was almost time for the class to be finished, everyone was getting their belongings in their bags, including you. That’s when Aemond decided to speak.

“I must speak with you, Miss.” His voice was stern, it left no room for argument. Your classmates were snickering and feeling sorry for you, after everyone else left you went to his table.

“I do not appreciate that kind of dismissive behaviour in my class, miss?” You said your full name and Aemond appreciated the sound of your voice.

“I apologise, Professor. I was twenty minutes early, so I decided to finish one of my assignments but I’ll take this class very seriously.” Aemond simply hummed and dismissed you with his hand, you went back to your seat and he appreciated the sway of your hips, you hurried out of class.

You were roommates with a girl called Ellie, she was a sophomore while you were a junior. It was a bit unsettling how much she knew about everyone’s lives, it was as if she had eyes everywhere. If a professor had issues either with family, or drugs she knew about it. It wasn’t a surprise when you were back to your dorm, she already knew that you had a mishap with professor Aemond.

“What did you do? What did the professor hottie say?” To be completely honest you were surprised that she didn't know what the two of you talked about.

“I got in the zone and didn't see him come in, she got angry and wanted to talk to me.” Ellie knew how you could get when you were concentrated, she never met anyone as dedicated as you to your studies. You didn't drink, you didn't party, your parents were poor, and you were on a scholarship you couldn’t afford a mistake, unlike Ellie.

“Be careful next time, he has a reputation.” Her statement confused you.

“What reputation?”

“He doesn’t forgive mistakes, of any kind. If you mess up in his class you are out, I’m surprised that you’re still allowed.” Ellie was eyeing you suspiciously, she hasn’t known you that long so her opinion of you wasn’t formed yet.

“He didn't say that I could come back.” Now you were worried, even though you didn't need to take this class, you loved Roman History it’d be awful to be kicked out for an innocent mistake.

“HA! Trust me, he would make it clear that you were out of his class. People say that he loves making his students squirm and cry more than anything.” Ellie left you, she needed to go meet with her boyfriend.

You didn't get that impression from the professor, sure he was stern but he wasn’t mean to anyone. You decided to not let Ellie’s words taint professor Aemond in your mind, you were going to make your judgement of him. Looking at the clock you realised that you were late for your next class.

__________________________________________

Your next History class was the next week, and your mind was plagued with thoughts of your mysterious professor, his voice was in your dreams as well as himself.

See the full post

422 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

#3

The Pretender - Chapter l

A/N: So Aemond inspired me to write again, hope you guys like it and please let me know if I should do more of this story. Feedback is greatly appreciated, even if it’s to say that it sucks LOL.

Summary: You are the spitting image of a Lady of the Reach, when she framed you for a crime you did not commit you become her and marry her betrothed, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Violence, let me know if there’s anything else.

Tag List: @aemonds-war-crime

The Pretender Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Life at your grandparents’ farm wasn’t easy, but it was all you knew. Waking up before the sun, milking the cows, taking take of the sheep, making sure the crops were growing properly, cleaning the chicken coop, everything that your grandparents couldn’t do. There was one thing that you loved more than anything, and that was horses, your family didn't have the money for one, so you tried to find wild horses, they were fearless and dangerous but you were able taim most of them.

A horse that hasn’t left your side since you were only thirteen was a black horse, he was a beauty, he always found you, having a domestic side but always wild at heart. You named him Arrow, due to the fact that he’s so quick, always has been. Arrow always found his way back to you, and he loved you and you loved him, you didn't have enough money for a saddle, so you rode him bareback.

After your chores you went to find Arrow, it was a freeing feeling being able to ride on his back, being tired didn't matter, worrying about what to do after your grandparents die, being tired after a long day at the farm, none of that matters when you’re with Arrow.

You were whistling, looking for Arrow in a field the grass was tall the sun was almost setting and you saw him, he was eating. You approached him, and he looked at you, the bond was strong between the two of you.

“I’ve missed you, Arrow.” You put your head on his, and he neighed you’d like to think that he missed you as well. “Let’s ride.” You jumped on his back, you tried to care for him, brushing his hair but he always came back more wild than before.

You always let Arrow decide where to take you, he knew the Reach quite well and took you to so many different and exciting places. You held on tight to his hair and he went. You closed your eyes, and the wind on your face was incredible, sometimes you wished to be like Arrow, being attached to nowhere.

Arrow stopped by a river, and you came off of him and started drinking water off the river. The sun was setting so you started thinking about coming back home. You started touching Arrow, you wished that he would come home with you but you loved him too much to sentence him to such a cruel fate, he was free. You heard hustling from the trees, you decided to leave. But it was too late, a couple appeared from the forest.

The man had to be a knight, and the woman was wearing an incredible purple dress, she looked absolutely amazing. The man looked angry, drawing his sword.

“Who are you?” He screamed, his sword was pointed at you. Arrow was getting scared, but you were able to calm him down.

“My love, she’s simply a farmer girl. She has no idea who we are.” You were avoiding looking at them, you wanted no trouble with the noble people.

The Lady approached you, you took a step back. She did not like that, she grabbed your jaw rather forcefully. You looked at her, you couldn’t believe it she looked exactly like you and she had a surprised face, the same as you.

“By the gods, you look exactly like me. If you weren’t so dirty and a peasant, you could be a pretender.” The Lady finally released your jaw, it hurt so much. “Have you lost your voice, peasant?” She was rude, and you did not like her one bit.

“I do, you haven’t asked anything before, m’lady.” She hit you, hard. You knew there would a bruise tomorrow, why did she do this? You almost fell, but you got your footing before that.

“Do not talk back, peasant.” Her words held so much venom, you hated the royals so much. “I simply had the most extraordinary idea. I will go to Braavos with William and you shall marry the one-eyed monstrosity in Kings Landing.” The knight, William you assumed finally approached the two of you. Your face held nothing but confusion, you pretending to be her?

“That would never work, this peasant doesn’t know how to behave, how to read.” William held contempt for you, but his voice had a tinge of pity.

“It will work, we will teach her everything. She shall become a Lady of House Oxwell, she shall become me.” You knew that name, her family was the richest in all of Westeros, richer than the Lannisters, they say.

“No.” You simply stated, you didn't want to become her, you wanted to be truly free like Arrow, you wanted nothing in your name, you craved freedom, you craved being away from the farm, you craved peace, you craved the wind on your hair.

“No, how dare you…” William started drawing his sword again, but the Lady stopped him.

“Most peasants would kill for an opportunity such as this, why do you refuse? Being adorned with the finest jewellery, touching only the finest silk, eating only the best meats? What do you truly desire?” Her line of questioning was uncomfortable, she wanted you to say things that you never told anyone before, of the deepest desire within your soul.

“I wish to be free, I wish to take my horse and ride him through the seven Kingdoms.” You uttered the words, finally. A weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Do you have a name?” It was as if she completely ignored your words.

See the full post

427 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

#2

Nectar of The Gods

A/N: I was kinda inspired by the goddess herself, Lana Del Rey. It’s not required to listen to the song Nectar of The Gods, but if you want to you can.

Summary: Your parents want power, what could be better than marrying you to the future King?

Aemond Targeryen x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Angst, smut, slight Dom!Aemond, death, let me know if there’s anything else that I missed.

Tag List: @aemonds-war-crime

Masterlist

He was obnoxious, he was the first-born son of the King and you hated him with all of your heart. Your House was one of the richest of all of Westeros, so marriage proposals were coming left and right. But your parents are ambitious, they have money but now they want power. Since you are the only daughter, you are simply a political pawn being sold off to the highest bidder.

And who’s higher than the next in line to the throne, according to the greens? You were living in the Red Keep for years, and you were best friends with Haleana. There was a Prince that you were fond of already, Aemond. He was the man that you wanted to marry, he was the man of your dreams.

Aemond loves you and you love him, with all your heart. Ever since you were children you dreamed of marriage, his mother promised that the two of you would be together but no formal betrothal was initiated. But that didn't matter, he was yours and you were his. The worst day of your life was when Aemond lost his eye, you even yelled at the King for his callousness. That evening was the first time the two of you kissed, when you got older Aemond didn't take your maidenhood, you remember the day vividly.

“I want you, Aemond. Please, take me.” He was trying to control himself so much, having you in his bed begging for him was more than he could handle.

“Only on your wedding night, my love. I shall claim you as my wife, lover. The same as I have done to your heart and soul.” His hair was down, with no eye patch sapphire glimmering against the moonlight.

“I can’t wait.” The two of you slept peacefully after that, dreaming of your wedding day.

Aegon lusted after you, but he never acted on it due to the fact that he would face his brother’s wrath. You couldn’t stand being in the same room as him, he mistreated Haleana so much, but thankfully she left Kings Landing to marry a Lannister. She often sent letters, saying how happy she was, and how much her children were growing. Aegon remained unwed, the same as Aemond.

One day your parents sent a raven, saying that were coming to Kings Landing and organising your wedding to the Prince. You couldn’t be happier, you quickly ran towards Aemond’s chambers, you didn't even need to look where you were going, your feet knew where to take you.

“My love, my father wrote to me.” Aemond has never seen you so excited to receive any news from your family, you resented them so much.

“Pray tell what your detestable father has shared to put you in such high spirits?” Aemond kissed you tenderly, the only person that he truly loves flaws and all.

“They are coming to put our wedding in motion.” You jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. You couldn’t be happier, you were finally going to become Aemond’s.

“That makes me happy.” Aemond whispered to you, he was a bit worried about your parents coming he didn't have a good feeling about it.

But Aemond could never crush your happiness with his worries, so he held you close and prayed to the gods that your parents would marry the two of you. You belonged together, it didn't matter if your father thought otherwise, you will be his forever.

__________________________________________

Your parents’ carriage was coming, you were next to Aemond as usual. The Queen was unusually quiet, which worried Aemond. Aegon was nowhere to be found, and that’s when Aemond knew what was happening. When he looked at you, he saw the pure happiness on your face and he couldn’t tell you. He never wanted to crush your hopes, you should have that happiness for a few more moments.

Your father and mother left the carriage, and you ran towards them. You always knew that your parents didn't like you as much as your brothers, but now all the comments, all the belittling, the name-calling, it was all worth it, you were going to marry Aemond, the love of your life.

“Father, this is the happiest occasion.” You hugged him, you didn't hug your father often but you were happy that you were finally going to become Aemond’s.

“It is satisfactory that you are grateful for your betrothal, Prince Aegon.” You stopped hugging your father immediately.

“Not Aegon father, Aemond.” You wanted to believe that your father made a mistake, an innocent mistake.

“No, you shall be Queen.” He harshly said, you couldn’t believe what he was saying.

You looked at Aemond he was just as sad as you were, but he could hide it much better than you. Turning around and fleeing to your chambers whilst your parents called for you, it was cruel so incredibly cruel. They knew how much you loved Aemond and yet, they were going to make you marry Aegon. You started to sob uncontrollably, you had no idea how long you cried, but eventually, you fell asleep.

See the full post

539 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

His Darling Wife

Summary: When Aemond’s lover threatens your family, you flee from your husband.

Aemond x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Violence, angst.

Tag List: @aemonds-war-crime

Masterlist

You’ve been married to the Targaryen Prince for almost a year now, you’re from a smaller House in the Reach, you have three brothers, and you are the youngest. Your mother is from Pentos, her family has a fortune so now your family has a lot of influence in Westeros. When your father told you that the King and Queen wanted you to marry their youngest son you didn't know what to think. But you and Aemond were able to become fast friends and with time, to love each other.

Even with the love you feel for one another you haven’t been able to conceive, that wasn’t entirely true, you had two pregnancies that ended in short of a month, and the Maester told you that it would take a while to fall pregnant again. But he was wrong because you were now pregnant a third time. You decided not to tell the Maester or Aemond for that matter.

“My love.” Aemond spoke coming to your chambers, you were getting ready for dinner with the Queen and Princess Heleana, you adored their company and they did yours.

“Where were you, my prince?” You turned to look at Aemond, you loved calling him ‘your prince’, and he loved hearing you say it.

“My brother has requested something of me, he and Heleana are to be married and he wants me to get the best wine in all of Essos, to give her as a gift.” You looked at Aemond incredulously.

“Aegon asked you to do that?” You snickered, there wasn’t a single bone in Aegon’s body to make him so considerate.

“It was a strange phenomenon, I was talking to my brother but I could only hear my mother.” You got up from the chair you were sitting, happy with your appearance. You came closer to Aemond and put your hand on his face, he leaned into your touch.

“Then you should go, anything to make your sister happy.” Aemond smiled at your statement, he loved the fact that you loved his sister.

“I’ll return in a fortnight, maybe less.” It was his turn to kiss you and it always took your breath away, you thanked the gods every day for having Aemond as your husband.

“Come back to me, my love.” Aemond caressed your face, he never tired to look at your beauty.

“I always do.” He left your chambers and you went to meet with the Queen and the Princess.

It didn't take long to get to the Queen’s chambers, you were wearing a green dress that the Queen gifted you, it was so pretty and comfortable. Ser Criston Cole opened the doors for you, and Heleana was the first to see you, she ran to you and hugged you tightly, and you hugged her back.

“I missed you, Y/N.” She mused, you smiled at her sweetness.

“We’ve seen each other at breakfast, Heleana.”

“Still too long, come sit.” The princess dragged you and you sat down in front of Queen Alicent, even knowing that she likes you and even pushed for your marriage with Aemond, she still intimidated you, she was the Queen after all.

“How are you, Y/N? Are you excited about your mother’s visit?” Alicent reached your hand and squeezed gently, with a genuine smile on her face.

“Very, I miss her dearly.” One of your brothers was on the Kinguards as well so your mother was able to come to Kings Landing more times throughout the year.

“At what time does she arrive?” Healena inquired, she also really liked your mother. Your mother shared her fascination with spiders, the same as the Princess.

“She won’t be long, I believe at dawn.” You smiled at the Princess’ reaction, she was clapping excitingly.

The dinner was nice, you and the Queen talked about many different subjects while Heleana was playing with her animals. After a couple of hours, you retired to your chambers, you knew the nights without Aemond would be long, sleeping without him made you restless. But you were able to sleep, not well but you did. The first rays of sunshine were peeking through your window, you heard the servants entering your chambers, this part of the morning was your favourite, especially with your mother coming.

You were ready for the day when the Maester came into your chambers, it was unusual for him to appear in your chambers, but you saw a scroll in his hand.

“A raven came for you in the night, my Princess.” He bowed and gave the scroll to you.

“Thank you, Maester.” He left you with the servants after that.

See the full post

1,585 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false #i love this so much

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 99]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46

Today shall be a short day. I have an appointment later.

Chapter 47 (Logan)

Logan and Virgil had gotten into the habit of having reading lessons in the afternoons 3 times a week. They would sit in the small library near the royal wing for an hour or two and do different things related to increasing Virgil’s literacy.

Logan had started with just teaching him letters, but he’d memorized those long ago at this point. Now, Logan would spend most of the time having him read simpler books out loud and correcting any mistakes he made along the way. Improvement was surprisingly fast, though in truth, Logan hadn’t had any measure for how long it would take a teenager to learn to read and Virgil was quite dedicated.

Usually, their lessons ended with Logan reading a more complicated book while letting him follow along. The last week, they had been reading the library book Virgil had chosen for himself, Into the Mist. It was an interesting book to read to Virgil, though Logan was unsure if it would be as interesting if he were to read it on his own. In truth, it was a good, but rather ordinary fantasy book. Virgil, however, seemed incredibly fascinated by it. He had never heard a high fantasy story before in his life and he was constantly comparing and contrasting things in the book to things he understood in real life as well as asking Logan about them.

It also became clear that Virgil did not quite understand real life fully. He attributed the same amount of awe to hearing the ocean being described as he did to the main character’s climb up the sky to a cloud city in hopes of saving his love interest’s life. In fact, he seemed more in awe of Logan’s explanation of the ocean since it actually existed.

Logan had a sudden intense urge to plan a trip to see an ocean at some point in the future. Lamir was a costal country and its castle sat on top of a cliff that overlooked the sea. It would be easy enough to take a trip to their ally’s country at some point.

“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.

“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”

“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.

“But why?” Virgil asked.

“I… don’t understand the question.”

“They don’t have the right number of legs.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.

“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”

“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”

“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.

“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.

“No, they’re not.”

His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.

Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”

“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”

He huffed, peering at the book.

“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”

Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”

“Mmm?” Logan asked.

“There’s something I need to teach you.”

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

“Survival instincts.”

“What?”

Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”

“Isn’t that poisonous.”

“Yes,” Virgil said.

“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”

“Exactly! That’s the problem.”

“I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”

“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill’ may be skewed,” Logan said.

“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”

“It’s really not though.”

“You’re at war,” Virgil reminded, “and they already tried to assassinate your father. Do you think they’re not going to send someone else when your father is alive at winter’s end, and they’ve heard no word from their assassin? Do you think if they realize you’re not easily manipulatable, they won’t come for you too?”

“Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”

“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”

“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”

Wait. When had they had that conversation?

“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”

“I know how to use a knife,” Logan claimed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.

Virgil, despite having no concept of taxonomic classification, was no fool. “Chopping things for potions doesn’t count,” Virgil said. “I’m talking stabbing lessons. For you and Patton, though to be honest, Patton has an advantage already over you when it comes to using weapons.”

“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”

“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”

“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.

“How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.

Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”

“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”

“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”

“Tampered with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant.”

“Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”

Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.

“Prove it,” Virgil said.

“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”

Logan wished he would have been observant enough in that moment to notice the determined spark in his eyes.

  Chapter 48 (Thomas)

Thomas was leaving his office when he ran into his son. Or more accurately, his son almost ran into him. “Is everything alright?” Thomas asked.

“I…” Logan said. His hand came out to grasp Thomas’s shirt sleeve, odd behavior for him at least at this age. He used to do such things when he was very small. “Yes,” he said anyway. “Everything is perfectly fine.” He glanced behind himself down the hall.

Thomas looked at him and then looked down the hallway, concerned by his strange behavior. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” Logan said, but he wasn’t letting go of Thomas’s shirt.

“You seem a bit anxious, Logan,” Thomas said.

“I am not,” Logan denied, releasing his shirt. Thomas caught a glimpse of something moving above their heads. The hallway Thomas’s office was in had large pillars along the outer wall that really no one should be able to scale despite there technically being grooves in them. Yet, there Virgil clung to the chapiter of one of them. Even more bewildering, he was gripping a pouch of some kind in his teeth.

They met eyes briefly. Virgil tilted his head at Thomas. Then, he removed one hand from the pillar. How was he up there? He made a motion with his hand that seemed to be telling Thomas to step back.

Thomas looked back at his son. Logan hadn’t noticed Virgil, too busy glancing behind him and not looking up. Thomas looked back up at Virgil and took a big step back. The moment he did, Virgil grabbed the bottom of the pouch with his free hand and let go with his teeth. The pouch flipped upside down dropping its contents right onto Logan’s head.

Logan gave a high-pitched shriek that Thomas didn’t think he’d ever heard from him before. “Virgil!” he yelled, now absolutely soaked.

“Learn to look up,” Virgil said seriously, still clinging to the pillar.

“I hate you,” Logan replied.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean in anger,” Thomas reminded. He was a bit worried Virgil may overreact to Logan saying things like that to him, though he seemed perfectly calm at the moment.

Logan scowled at Thomas. “You’re on his side?! He just dumped water on my head!”

“He needs to be trained to be more observant!” Virgil said.

Logan turned his scowl to Virgil. “Come down here, you intolerable creature! I’m done with your so-called training!”

“And what would you do if I did come down?” Virgil asked while arching an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. “Quote facts about animals at me?”

Thomas was unsure what about that comment angered Logan, but it apparently did.

“You little…”

“Boys,” Thomas interrupted. “What’s going on here?”

They both immediately started speaking at once, doing their best to talk over each other. Thomas didn’t catch much of either rants except something about ‘training’ and Virgil ‘stalking the halls’ and an “exploding muffin.”

“Okay, okay,” Thomas said, putting a hand up to tell both of them to be quiet. “One at a time. Virgil first.”

“Really?” Logan asked.

“Logan,” Thomas scolded.

He mumbled something under his breath, but he did quiet down.

“Virgil,” Thomas started again. “What’s going on?”

“I’m training him,” Virgil said.

“Training him?” Thomas asked. “Training him for what?”

“For life,” Virgil answered. “He isn’t observant enough.”

“Ah,” Thomas said, still fairly confused. “And how are you training him?”

“Right now, we’re doing situational awareness training,” Virgil said.

“And how does that translate to you dumping water on his head?” Thomas asked.

“He wouldn’t have gotten water on his head if he’d noticed me,” Virgil answered, seriously. Thomas tried not to laugh at the look on his face.

“That is, perhaps true,” Thomas said. “However, dumping water on people’s heads is not nice. Perhaps there is a nicer way to do this training?”

“People trying to kill them won’t be nice,” Virgil said.

“No one is trying to kill Logan,” Thomas said.

Virgil just pursed his lips. “Maybe,” Virgil said. “Not yet.”

Thomas was unsure where this fear had come from. Perhaps he had heard about the successful assassination of Lamir’s late queen. Thomas hadn’t exactly publicized the fact that the queen had been killed and not simply died when he’d returned, but he had told certain people including Logan and Patton. It was possible one of them had let it slip and Virgil had freaked out about it.

“Well,” Thomas said. “It still isn’t nice to ruin someone’s day over a threat that doesn’t exist yet.”

Virgil just huffed at him. He was being surprisingly petulant which actually made Thomas smile just a tad. He’d not even been able to imagine this side of him a month ago. “Why don’t you come down here?” Thomas suggested. “We can talk through the issue and come to a compromise.”

Virgil stared down at him with skeptical eyes.

“Perhaps with tea and cookies?” Thomas suggested.

Virgil tilted his head and slid down the pillar until his feet touched the floor. “What kind of cookies?” he asked.

“We’ll have to see what Helen has made lately,” Thomas said. He turned to Logan and frowned. “You should probably change before you get sick being wet and in the cold.”

Logan nodded and shivered a little bit while rubbing his own arms. Despite the castle being warm, it was no fun to be completely soaked during the winter. Thomas wasn’t even sure if Virgil would have thought to not use freezing cold water. Even with heating elements, the water in the castle could be very cold if you didn’t wait for a bit for it to warm up. Thomas didn’t think Virgil would have thought too far ahead in this ‘training.’

“I’ll take Virgil down to the kitchen and get some tea and cookies for all of us,” Thomas told Logan.

He gave his son a look trying to communicate ‘I’ll talk to him.’ Logan pursed his lips, but nodded, seeming to receive the message.

“Why don’t we meet you in the royal dining room, so the conversation is more private?” Thomas suggested. It would be a much calmer environment than the main dining hall or the kitchens.

“Sure,” Logan agreed, turning to walk off in the direction of the royal wing. The poor thing was huddled in on himself and cold.

Thomas looked over at Virgil and smiled at him softly as Logan left. “Let’s go see what cookies Helen has ready,” he suggested.

  Chapter 49 (Virgil)

“So,” King Thomas said as they walked through the halls towards the kitchens. The path to the kitchens from pretty much anywhere in the castle was familiar to Virgil now. Food was abundant in this place and there were no restrictions on Virgil eating it. There were no restrictions on anyone in the castle eating it, unless you counted Patton’s mother insisting people eat a more varied diet than only cookies. Personally, while Virgil did like cookies, he had no complaints over that matter. “You and Logan seem to be having a disagreement,” Thomas continued.

“I’m right,” Virgil insisted, and he was.

 However, explaining why Virgil was right to the king was a bit difficult when Virgil was hiding why he knew Logan developing survival instincts was important. It was clear that Virgil did not get his point across correctly because the king laughed slightly.

“Everyone believes they are right during a disagreement,” Thomas said. “I’m sure Logan has his own ideas about who is correct.”

Virgil frowned at him. “I am.”

“Perhaps you are both right,” the king suggested.

“But…”

“You cannot dump water on people’s heads in the castle hallways, Virgil,” the king scolded, but it was a gentle scolding and Virgil forced himself to not climb the wall and disappear. He had a point to make. “Especially not in the winter.”

 “He’s the prince,” Virgil argued. “He needs to know how to protect himself in case of danger.”

“That is true,” Thomas conceded. “You are probably correct that we should be making sure the royal family is well protected and can protect themselves. We have been safe for a long time, but there is always a risk.” He seemed contemplative for a moment. “However,” he continued. “The way you are going about it is not correct in my opinion. Clearly, it is not in Logan’s opinion as well.”

“But…”

“You risk making more problems than solving with your strategy,” the king said.

 “Like what?” Virgil asked.

“Well,” Thomas said. “Getting someone wet when it’s cold is never a good idea even inside a castle.” Virgil… could agree with that. “You also could accidently ruin something important by getting water on it if you don’t give warning. Even if you are doing something besides pouring water on his head, if you continue to do things to ‘train’ Logan in the same vein, he is likely to become more paranoid than vigilant.”

“What’s the difference?” Virgil asked.

“Being vigilant means you are prepared for danger around every corner. Being paranoid means you are expecting danger around every corner.”

 “There doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference,” Virgil said.

“There is,” said the king, as they pushed through a set of double doors. “Take any of the royal guards,” he gestured subtly at the two people guarding the room to the hall they’d just come from. “If a guard is constantly worried that every little sound is a danger and every new person is an enemy, they will waste all of their energy and time chasing down stray rodents and interrogating maids that decided to walk a different path to their destinations. When real danger does appear, they may be too worn out or distracted to react.”

 “However, if the guards are calm and instead of instantly overreacting to every small thing, they make a note of it in case it ends up being something they need to react to later, then they will be prepared to act if there are any actual threats.”

Virgil bit his tongue to stop from mentioning that he’d managed to sneak by the guards to the royal wing the first night he was here. A boy with a cookie sheet had done more against him that King Thomas’s guards.

“That’s why I make sure everyone who works for the castle, especially the guards have not only time off to sleep and eat, but time off for leisure where they are not expected to be hypervigilant.”

 “All people need to have a time and place to feel safe, even the ones whose jobs it is to keep others safe. Logan’s job is not the same as the guards who keep the people in this castle physically safe, but he is training to be king. He needs time to perform his duties and to relax between them. Harassing him all day with survival training is not going to help him.”

“People don’t need to feel safe,” Virgil argued. “They need to be safe.”

The king stopped walking and turned to him. Virgil couldn’t help but cringe a bit as the king studied him.

 “You haven’t had a chance to feel safe very often in your life, have you?” the king asked.

Virgil shrugged, looking away.

“What would make you feel safe?” Thomas asked.

“Logan being safe,” Virgil said.

“Logan is safe, Virgil,” the king tried to argue.

Virgil scowled. “I don’t trust your guards. Even the best guard won’t be able to help if Logan gets trapped alone with someone. He needs to learn self-defense.”

“Well, I’m already planning to up security in the castle when spring comes. Would me asking if he’d be willing to do self-defense training with someone help?”

 He thought about it for a few moments. “Maybe,” he said, lips pursed, “but what if the person you get to teach him isn’t any good at it?” Honestly, Virgil wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone in this entire kingdom to do proper training.

Then again… Prijaznia had been holding its own against Mocnejsi for… Virgil didn’t actually know how long. He just knew that he’d always remembered there being a war going on between them for his entire life. And… while no one had ever actually said it out loud, Prijaznia was probably winning. It’s why Mocnejsi was going for things like assassinations and tricks instead of normal warfare.

 Not to mention Prijaznia was less… war torn. Sure, he’d been living in the castle recently, but even in his travel to the castle, people seemed to be a bit better off.

So, maybe there were some people in the kingdom who knew what they were doing when fighting. However, Virgil wasn’t going to trust the king to pick out who should train Logan.

“I’m sure we can find someone who is up to your standards,” the king said, though the curl to his lip seemed to indicate he wasn’t taking Virgil seriously. Of course, as far as he knew, Virgil was just a random kid his friend had befriended, so that was probably fair.

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It was a bit frustrating to not be able to tell Logan’s dad why Virgil was worried or how he knew how to help, but Virgil wouldn’t dare give him even the slightest hint of the truth. He respected the king. He was starting to like the king. Yet, Virgil was not a fool.

The king obviously misinterpreted the disgruntled expression on his face. “Maybe you can also do some of your training,” he said, “but there has to be compromise. You and Logan need to talk about it without fighting before anything goes any further. I can mediate. We’ll talk about what things might be okay and what things are off limits.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, still not happy, but knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.

“Okay,” the king agreed. They were now at the door to the kitchens “Now, let’s get those cookies.”

  Chapter 50 (Patton)

Patton was starting to get excited. There had been a small snow storm a couple of weeks before, but since then, the temperature had been on the rise with no sign of more snow on the horizon. It was still a bit chilly, but Patton only really felt the need for a light coat instead of any more extreme winter wear. It was great!

Usually everyone including Patton was relieved as Winter turned to Spring, but this year, Patton had even more of a reason to be happy about it. Virgil had gotten a tiny bit more comfortable going outside over the winter, but he still didn’t like it too much.

 Patton could almost feel the change in him as the warmer months drew nearer like a flower getting ready to bloom. He was happier and more energetic. Mr. Deknis was getting things ready to start planting as soon as his seasonal workers started to arrive in the coming weeks. In the meantime, Virgil helped him get ready with a lot of enthusiasm.

It was probably the warmest it had been today. It wasn’t nearly summer, but Patton wouldn’t call it cold. So, while Logan was off doing princely duties in the afternoon, Patton decided to test if it was warm enough now for Virgil to willingly go outside.

 Patton found Virgil in Mr. Deknis’s rooms a couple of hours after lunch, figuring he’d be done with whatever task they were doing that day by then. Patton ended up being correct as when Mr. Deknis let him into his living room, Virgil was busy flipping through yet another book of orchids, still trying to decide which he wanted to grow.

“Hi, Virgil,” Patton said, walking into the room with Princess Marisol on his heels. She had been lazing in a sunny spot by a nearby window but had gotten up to follow him as he walked by.

“Hi,” Virgil replied. He closed the book and set it aside.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dovecote with me,” Patton said. “I wanted to send a letter.”

 Virgil thought about it for a moment, and Patton would swear he was using some secret weather sensing mechanism in his head to check the weather before saying, “Okay.”

“If you two are going to the dovecote, would you mind taking a letter for me as well?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Of course,” Patton agreed.

Mr. Deknis turned to grab a sealed letter off his desk. “It’s for my daughter,” Mr. Deknis said. “The handlers should know the right pigeon to give it to.”

Patton nodded and took it.

“You have a daughter?” Virgil asked, sounding more surprised than Patton would have expected.

 “Yes, Darlene,” Mr. Deknis said. “I’ve talked about her. I thought I’d mentioned she was my daughter.”

“I didn’t know you could have children.”

The statement clearly rang with truth to Mr. Deknis’s ears, but it didn’t make him look any less confused. “Why would you think that?” he asked.

Patton’s eyes widened as he recalled a conversation from months ago where Virgil had been confused about why Mr. Deknis was allowed to be a gardener when he was a multrum. Patton didn’t know much about how multrums were treated in Mocnejsi, but it hadn’t sounded very nice and Patton could draw some conclusions about why Virgil thought that. The problem of course was that Patton was pretty sure very few people in Prijaznia would be confused about Mr. Deknis being allowed to have a kid.

 “You’re old,” Patton blurted before Virgil could say anything more. “Old people can’t have kids.”

These things were not technically lies. Mr. Deknis still looked at him like he’d just sensed Patton saying one though. He frowned and his eyes narrowed a bit. Patton had… never been as good at running around Mr. Deknis’s powers as Logan was.

“Patton,” Mr. Deknis said. “What?”

“You have to forgive Virgil,” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s arm and tugging on it. Luckily, Virgil followed easily enough. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know how babies are made.”

“That isn’t an argument, Patton.”

“Anyway, we have to go,” Patton said.

 Patton pulled Virgil out of Mr. Deknis’s living room and into the hallway. He slammed the door behind them. “Run,” said Patton to Virgil. They ran.

Luckily, Patton was right. Mr. Deknis was old and didn’t seem keen to chase them. However, Patton expected that the conversation was nowhere near over. This, even if it made their behavior even more suspicious, would give Patton time to think of something or, more realistically, talk to Logan and get him to think of something.

The ended up all the way outside the stable before the stopped. Virgil, while fast, was not a distance runner and Patton wasn’t exactly athletic, so they collapsed in an exhausted heap.

 “Why did we run?” Virgil asked after a few minutes of rest.

“People from Prijaznia wouldn’t question why a multrum can have a child,” Patton said. “They’re just normal people with some powers. If we’re not careful, he could have figured out you weren’t from here.”

Virgil grimaced. “That’s not good,” he said.

“It’ll be alright,” Patton promised. “We just need to ask Logan what to say. He’s always better at talking circles around Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s in a meeting right now though.”

“Yeah,” Patton said, “but that just means we have to be sneaking for a couple of hours.”

 Always one to make something fun out of a not so great situation, Patton glanced over at Virgil. “You’re pretty good at sneaking,” he said. “Why don’t you teach me something about sneaking by helping me sneak into the dovecote.”

“You want to do training?” Virgil asked.

Patton hesitated, having heard about ‘training’ from Logan. “Uh, only this type of training,” Patton said, “and only for this afternoon until we have a chance to talk to Logan.”

“The king told me I could train people if they gave me permission.”

Oh dear.

He seemed invigorated suddenly and popped to his feet even though Patton really would have rather rested for a bit more.

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“The dovecote is the tower that kind of stands on its own on the North side of the castle, right?” Virgil asked.

“Yep,” Patton agreed, “that’s it.”

“Great,” Virgil said. “That will be perfect for climbing lessons.”

Oh dear.

“Er…” Patton said. “Climbing? I thought we could just, you know, sneak through the doors…”

“Using the doors is the first thing they’d suspect,” Virgil argues. “We have to be sneaky.”

“We won’t really be sneaky if I fall and crack my head open on the ground,” Patton muttered.

“That’s why it’s perfect for training!” Virgil said. “There’s a lot of footholds. You won’t fall.”

  “You vastly overestimate my upper body strength,” Patton said, but Virgil wasn’t listening. He was just grabbing at Patton’s arm and pulling him North.

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know!” Virgil promised. “First lesson. We need to sneak up to the building. There are bushes that go along the castle walls. We’re going to crawl through those.”

“Okay, I’m not sure if that’s necessary,” Patton said. “If Mr. Deknis finds us, we can just outrun him again.”

“Maybe not,” Virgil agreed, “but it’s good practice, and this is training.”

“Right…” Patton said, but then sighed at the look in Virgil’s eyes. “Fine, lets go get in the bushes.”

  Chapter 51 (Logan)

“I see you wore out Patton with that,” Logan said to Virgil. Patton glared at him from where he’d collapsed on Logan’s bedroom floor.

He’d been accosted as soon as he’d gotten out of a meeting earlier in the day by Patton and Virgil as apparently, they’d slipped up in front of Mr. Deknis. Luckily, the conversation had not been nearly as dire as they’d feared. True, most people in Prijaznia wouldn’t question the rights of multrums anymore, but racism was still prevalent in some smaller pockets near the kingdom’s boarders. It was easy enough to explain that Virgil was from an area where prejudice against multrums was prevalent (not a lie) and that Patton, with his sensibilities would panic not wanting Mr. Deknis to realize Virgil’s internalized prejudices and would take him away to explain (also not a lie).

 It had been easy enough to provide this explanation to Mr. Deknis and for the man to accept Virgil’s apology for his accidental offensiveness. There’d been a bit of lingering suspicion from the gardener, but nothing that wouldn’t fade with time.

They’d fled back to Logan’s room after that to breathe away from adult supervision which is when Patton had dramatically fallen to the floor.

Apparently, Patton had been Virgil’s newest victim of training. Patton currently had bruises and scrapes from attempting to scale the wall of the dovecote. When Virgil hadn’t been able to get him up that way, they’d taken an alternate route which explained the feathers and… other unpleasant messes now stuck to both of them. That’s why Patton was on the floor and not the furniture.

 “Patton has a lot to work on,” Virgil said gravely. His eyes flickered a bit, “but at least he’s willing to work on it.”

Logan shot him a tight-lipped glare. “Go take a shower, Virgil,” he said.

Virgil stuck his tongue out at him in response but did turn and disappear into the next room to take a show.

“And what about you?” Logan asked the figure on the floor. “Are you going to go shower.”

There was a long pause. “I’ a min’te,” he yawned, not opening his eyes.

“Whatever you want,” Logan said. Though, he did sacrifice one pillow from his bed, making Patton lift his head so Logan could slip the pillow under it.

 He sat on his bed with a book waiting for Virgil to get out of the shower. He was pretty sure Patton had fallen asleep on the floor by the time the door to the bathroom opened once again. Virgil was in one of the sweaters Logan had given him when he’d first come here despite having new fitted clothes of his own for ever occasion. It still hung off his frame a bit, but not as much as it once had. He yawned softly.

“Tired from your long day of being a menace?” Logan asked idly.

Virgil stopped mid yawn to glare at him.

#proofread stories #not writing

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How to Survive Your Yandere Demon Boyfriend and Live with him in Peace and have Fun: Chapter 4

A/N: FINALLY. After writing 9 drafts of this chapter...... I felt this was the best of them all..... (My back is ded-) This is again a "build up" to the main conflict, so not much aside from plot-building happens.......

Also, this chapter's writing style is a bit different (imo) , but it still has the "changing povs" in between.

Also, also, after this, I won't be much active, due an upcoming exam that I have to prepare. I may start taking requests again in late july.....

Anyways, as always, have a great day ahead!

(Yandere AU x Replaced MC AU)

Yandere Lucifer x MC

TW: Implied Bullying ; Implied Sexual Content (Mild) ; Unhealthy Mindset ; Yandere ; Angst ; Insults ; Swearing ; Denial ; (If I have missed something please tell me!)

Extra: Mention of "Note"(1) ;OOC Demon Brothers ; Changing POVs ; Unreliable Narration ; Female Reader/MC ; OC Lucifer (According to what I think of him as a Yandere) ; Secrets ; Use of Pact ; (Slight) Dark!MC.

“MC! Today I made an appointment for us at my favorite spa!”

'A memory…….'

“MC……! You should hang out with me!”

'Of those days………

Those precious days……'

“Hehehe….. you’re so cute MC!”

'You were always kind……….'

“Hey, MC………. Do you love us? Then would you stay with me and my brothers….. forever…? I promise you wouldn’t regret it!”

'I would love to………..

You are my family after all…'

“Oh, MC darling! I’m sorry, but I promised Irina that we would hang out today…….. I promise I will make it up to you!”

'Ah, it’s ok.

It’s just one time, one day.'

“uh…..MC? The thing is…… I am quite busy….. today….”

'…….'

“You know MC? Blue doesn’t suit you……. *sigh* why am I with you…… rather….. why can’t you be like her….? Whatever, just my luck.”

…………………….

'It’s ok.

H-he doesn’t mean it….'

“Why are you talking to me? You’re wasting my time.”

'………

See the full post

129 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

#4

hi^^ i'm not feeling well recently and i was wondering if i could request some Mammon fluff to heal me. the scenario being, Mammon and MC are best friends and promised to tell each other everything, so when he overhears his brothers gossiping that MC admitted to having a crush, he gets a lil upset because 1) how could you not tell him abt it first? and 2) who is MC crushing on???? and he acts moody with them until he finds out that MC's crush is on him whether by confession or the brothers, up to you. i just need a lovestruck Mammon being oblivious to his own feelings for his best friend until the idea of them being in relationship with someone else sets him off... i'm sorry if this is so cheesy and cliché!

A/N: Thank you for requesting! I hope you feel a little better after reading this! And also please take care of yourself, I hope you feel better! 💕

Let me tell you, I like my my fluff cheesy :) so don't be sorry! This is such a cute request after all!

And also....... this is my first fluff writing so, any corrections or even suggestions are appreciated! 💖

As always, have a great day ahead!

Also....! While I was writing, I was listening to-

I Like You, I Love You (Kagamine Rin)

TW: None (Apart from some mistakes and the repetition of the words "Best friends")

Extra: Fluff ; Unreliable Narration ; Second-Person POV ; Oblivious Nature ; "MC" addressed as you and not directly as "MC" (majority of the fic).

Mammon X MC

My Other Half

Only one demon in the whole of Devildom knew you like the back of his hand.

Mammon.

In the first weeks of the exchange program, he had seen you as a nuisance not he nor you knew when that changed. You two had grown accustomed to each other’s presence to a point many had assumed that you were a couple. Of course, the demon had to explain that you two were best friends and not a couple (while tomato blushing). His brothers especially Lucifer and Asmo would relentlessly tease their brother while a small and soft smile played on their lips.

In the span of only a few months, the demon had become someone you could talk with and complain about in a very dramatic way that never failed to make the demon laugh at your antics. So, in the end, you ended up telling him everything about yourself, your likes, dislikes, your life back in your home realm, family, and just about everything.

Like you love chocolate filled with almonds.

Or which brand of Devildom soda you had come to like.

Or that one manga Berserk manga you love and that one manga you especially dislike. (He also agrees with you on that….)

That one game you like and also the character you like so much that you call him your “Husbando”. (he nearly wanted to throw hands with a fictional character)

So of course, not only Mammon would boast about how was he your first, but also about how much he knows you and how you would spoil him.

You two would help each other in almost everything, and also get punishment from the eldest together.

“The peas of the same pod.” You two were truly just that.

Or that was supposed to be that way…..

For some days you acting quite….. weird….. but in a good way.

Out of nowhere, you would take him to Hell’s Kitchen or Madam Screams and then you would look in his eyes, searching for something in them.

Then you started to hug him out of nowhere while running at him at lightning speed….. every day. At first, he did not at all understand why you do this, which caused him to think that you were in danger so he literally sprinted in the direction you came from, to rip the sonnuvabich to pieces, only for you to tell him with a smirk that you wanted to surprise him. Why………. I mean he is not against the hug itself it's just that it was so sudden. Though, don’t worry now he will catch you and hug you before you could! After all, he ain’t the fastest demon for nothing!

Only….. for you to pout at him……. (so cute…..No! He ain’t blushing or anything!)

Then one day, a demon started to hit on him, only to get spooked by your very angry face. That day, Leviathan screamed at you for being so much jealous that it triggered his demonic nature.

Jealous…….?

Were you…….

See the full post

171 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

#3

ok see Mammon having named a crow after mc when they leave after season 1. Cue Mammon being embarrassed and having to explain to mc why this crow has the same name as them when they walk in him.

A/N: A lot smaller than I expected... but still I hope you like this anon! (damn I am getting a lot of Mammon fluff reqs, I'm not complaining tho-) Plus, this was very cute request! Thank you for requesting!

Also any corrections or suggestions are highly appreciated! 💖💖

As always, have a great day ahead!

TW: None. ; Fluff.

Extra: GN!MC ; Second-Person POV ; Unreliable Narration.

Mammon x GN!MC

Missed you so.....

Finally, you were back to your lovable and dorky demons.

It felt like it had been too long, even if it wasn’t truly like that…

It's just that these demons and everyone else had become a part of your heart that can’t be replaced…….

And it seemed that even they shared the same sentiment.

You were smothered by bear hugs the minute you made your entry, as they told you how they missed you. (some of them cried too-) (Mammon denies all claims of this-)

It felt like coming home.

Warm and soft.

It felt as if everything was in place, as it should be, perfect.

….

So then why was your name being frantically called by the Avatar of Greed in the long hallways of your abode?

“Mammon?” you call him peeking your head to see the commotion, worried for the demon.

“Tch. Where in the- where did it go?!” the demon searches frantically for something…..

You approach him quietly, “Where did what go?”

“DAH!”

“Mams?”

“I- uh- uh- NOTHIN’ BYE”

Ok.

‘So something is up’ you think as you can still hear Mammon screaming your name.

You sigh and go back to your room, exhausted.

Just as you enter your room, a loud cawing noise greets you.

“Huh?”

You look up to see a crow sitting on your room’s window looking at you as if to say something….?

See the full post

205 notes - Posted May 20, 2022

#2

How to Survive Your Yandere Demon Boyfriend and Live with in Peace have Fun: Chapter 3

A/N: I have finally decided to write this fic again! Though it is still on Semi-Hiatus. This chapter is basically setting up the timeline of when this Au happens and a deep dive into Reader/MC’s thoughts over the situation. So, not much happens in this chapter (except Lucifer and MC’s relationship gets a little depth as well-)

I hope you like this!

As always, have a great day ahead!

(Yandere AU x Replaced MC AU)

Yandere Lucifer x MC

TW: Unhealthy Obsession, Unhealthy Mindset, Manipulation, Yandere, Implied Sexual Content, Abandonment Issues, Angst, Mentioned Stalking, Implied Imprisonment (?), Self-Doubt(?), Denial, Curse Word (only once). (If I have missed something please tell me!)

Extra: Changing POVs, Unreliable Narration, Female Reader/MC, Slight Dark!MC (?) , OC Lucifer (Yandere) (According to what I think of him as a Yandere), Slight Masochism (?).

Third Person POV:

“Lucifer, we need to talk.”

Lucifer spun around in 0.1 second at that line, anxiety already churning his guts. Even so, he flashes his smirk at her, “Yes, love?” he asks trying to sound normal.

“Do you have any updates on Irina? Anything new?”

“Ah………. Yes, it seems she had learned about pacts today and was asking Mammon to make one with her. He somehow got away from her.”

Ever since that evening, Lucifer has kept tabs on Irina’s movements under MC’s order.

“……Tch.” She shakes her head, as if to say, ‘she had seen this coming’. “Lu, can you please call all your brothers here in your study?”

The demon raises his eyebrow, “Will you be ordering them not to make a pact with Irina?”

“…..Yes. Would that be petty?”

“…..Yes, however, I do feel you should do it since it is a need now.” He looks at her, eyes soft and reassuring. The human looks away from him, eyes looking outside the window. She sighs deeply eyes closing for a moment-

“Do you think that I should have been stricter towards them?”

“….”

“Do you think maybe I should have been like Solomon? Making pacts just for the power? Maybe then…. Then things wouldn’t have come to this……”

“….MC….”

“Maybe it was because I was too trusting of them……. Maybe it was because……. I was too soft on them? Or maybe….. they only pretended that they care for me………”

“…….” He knew that this was wrong, but he had now seen an opportunity arise at this. “Maybe they did….” He replies, standing up and walking towards her, a faint yet twisted smile on his face.

“Maybe they did, after all they are demons. They may have pretended to like you since, Diavolo and I had told them to be civil towards you.” He wraps his large hands around her waist and kisses her on the neck, he continues, “They may have done it out of fear.”

“If that is so, then even you may be pretending right at this moment, yes?”

Chuckling darkly, he smiles at her lovingly, “I am not like them, sweetheart. They did so for their own good and became blind to their own power over your heart and you, our master. Even though it hurts my pride a bit, but it is the truth, demons in pacts are like wild dogs. They need to be trained to respect their master. If the master doesn’t trains them? Well, there are repercussions of it. For example, losing respect towards them.”

“But they can be disciplined with love as well, right?”

“True, there are two ways teach an insolent, bratty dog, either to love them or to show them where their place truly is. You, my darling, have taught me through love, something that I and many others saw as an impossible feat. Yet you achieved it.” His hands tighten around her figure, he nuzzles on her neck.

“I am your loyal dog. And you are my master. I have already pledged my loyalty to you since the night I had bound myself to you through our pact, but I shall pledge it once more to you.” He suddenly removes his arms and steps away from her.

See the full post

269 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Could we get Mc finding out diavolo has concubines while they are dating. And diavolo doesn't understand what is wrong with it. The angst, the drama.... then Mc just tell him she'll indulge in the brother then. And maybe it clicks for dia.... and he is just like..." oh...OH! Ya ok, we getting rid of the concubines, MC COME BACK!" And basically turns into a sad puppy dog following Mc around saying sorry over and over as Mc just keeps kissing the brothers, like all of them, one by one, right in front of Dia, until he finally really gets it. That if he wants real love and true loyalty in a lover, that the same is expected of him.

Ps, I like your writing, so whichever way you take this, I am down. I like seeing what ya do and reading your stuff. Keep being awesome! ^-^

A/N: First of all, thank you for the compliments! Second, I did make some changes just to fit it better, for the angst. Third, I really, really hope you like this story! And fourth, thank you for requesting!

Tbh, it was little difficult, since I never wrote anything for Diavolo. I feel like he is guy that is very hard to figure out, more than Lucifer.

But! I still had quite the fun making him suffer :)

And as always, have great day ahead!

Edit:  My thoughts on writing Part 2

TW: Implied Cheating ; Mentions of Cheating ; Angst ; Depression ; Fainting (?) ; Mentions of Concubines ; Harem ; Pretending to be alright when you are not (idk if this a real TW but oh well-) ; Poly Relationships ; Implied Sexual Content.

Other: Cheater!Diavolo ; MC addressed as "you" and not directly as "MC".

Diavolo X MC

MC X Brothers

How does it feel now?

“Dia?”

The name falls off of your mouth in utter horror as you look at the scene in front of you.

There he is, sitting on his throne looking ever so handsome, embracing and kissing a body that is not yours.

You don’t know if your voice was unheard or ignored, as Diavolo, your ever so charming lover, was kissing the lips that were not your own. A moan escapes from his mouth as one of those…………. whoever she was had started pleasuring him with her mouth, as you had once.

You drop on the ground, as you feel………. a lot of things……

First comes fear, disgust, and then despair.

You can’t hear anything.

You can’t see anything.

You can’t feel your own body.

Everything is dark.

Before losing to the darkness, you wish only one thing-

‘Please let this be an illusion.’

How naïve you were.

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

You open your eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom.

His bedroom……. wait.

Shooting right up from the bed, eyes wide open, looking everywhere.

You sit in silence and internally plead to every god for that……scene to be just a very bad dream.

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893 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

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