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rubycruzin4abruzin · 24 days

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(you) on my arm

Summary: On the eve of Kit’s wedding, she announces that she’s leaving Tir Asleen for good. You’ll do anything to convince her to stay, even if your class difference forbids it.

Pairing: servant!reader x princess!kit tanthalos

Contains: enemies to friends to lovers, mature language and content, smut, oral sex (both receiving), light gagging, medieval roleplay, forbidden intimacy, mutual pining, dom!kit, switch!reader, 18+, MDNI

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Based on the song “(You) On My Arm” by Leith Ross. I’ve had this idea for a while, it feels SO good to get it out! Also, we need more Kit Tanthalos smut, why am I starving here??

———

Your relationship with the princess of Tir Asleen was… interesting to say the least.

You knew what you were in for when you were hired to work as a castle servant. Kit sort of had a reputation for teasing the “help,” and you saw it a lot with one of the kitchen hands whom she often referred to as “muffin girl.” It’s not that you had a problem with the kitchen hand in question, it was just that she never really spoke up for herself, instead opting to sit back and let it happen. You, on the other hand, were much more fiery and quick-witted.

One day, you passed by Kit in another sword sparr with Jade while you were fetching water from the castle well. You hadn’t had much combat training outside of stick fights in the woods with the other village children in your youth, but even then you could tell that Jade was so much better than Kit. It was comical, really, especially considering how it was well known that the princess always won against combat with the knight.

Their fight took away from your attention long enough for you to lose your footing on a misplaced rock and trip, spilling the buckets of water you were holding all over the slick gravel. You cursed, knowing you’d have to walk all the way back to the well to fetch more.

The commotion caused Kit and Jade to drop their swords momentarily and look in your direction. Kit recognized you from the castle staff and smirked, an insult forming on her lips.

“Feeling thirsty, maid?” She called out. “In the future, I’d appreciate it if the castle’s water supply wasn’t compromised the next time you decide to drool over me and my incredible sword skills.”

Anger bubbled inside you while the cocky princess snickered at her own joke. You turned to see Jade rolling her eyes, which made you feel a bit better. Taking a deep breath, you faced Kit and flashed her a sickly sweet smile.

“Of course, your highness. I’ll make sure to keep your ‘incredible sword skills’ in mind the next time I’m patching a tear in your clothing after a spar with Jade.”

Kit’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening and her face flushing a new shade of crimson. Jade dissolved into a fit of laughter, not used to seeing the princess of Tir Asleen being put in her place. All Kit could do was stand there, embarrassed, and gape at you as you picked up the buckets and turned away to walk back to the well.

After the initial wave of confidence from your interaction had dialed down, you began to realize how easily Kit could get you fired. She was the princess after all, she could have anything she wanted at the snap of her fingers, and she knew that. The next couple nights, you laid awake in the servant chambers, and wondered if tomorrow was the day Kit would complain to Sorsha and have you promptly removed from the castle.

But the day never came. You would pass by Kit in the halls, and while she would always purposely avoid eye contact, she never seemed to harbor any ill intents. About a week or so later, she hit you with another taunting remark, and you fired one back out of instinct. This time, instead of getting embarrassed or angry, Kit simply shot you a side-eyed smile and walked away.

Since that day, your relationship with the princess of Tir Asleen was permanently altered into something Kit had never had with one of the palace hands. She would come at you with a quick remark, and you would respond with a sly taunt, or vice versa. Witty one-liners soon turned into full conversations, and your snarky dynamic began to blossom into a genuine friendship.

You had to admit, Kit had her qualities. Sure she was arrogant, stubborn, hot-headed, and a little selfish, but she was also funny, fearless, free-spirited, and… insanely pretty.

No doubt about it, Kit Tanthalos was hot. You’d never tell her that of course, her ego was inflated enough. Besides, her knowing you were attracted to her would surely give her ample ammo she’d use to tease you.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Kit thought the same about you. You weren’t a princess by any means, but your smooth complexion and gentle features made you a bit of a catch. Class differences aside, was your crush on the next heir to the throne so outrageous?

Stolen glances while passing each other in the hall only furthered your delusions. You swore you could see something in Kit’s eyes that was more than platonic, maybe even some sort of longing. Still, you had no way to be sure, so you opted to keep it to yourself.

Now, you stood in Kit’s room, folding her laundry while she was attending a ball downstairs. You weren’t invited of course, not that you really wanted to go anyway since this was the ball announcing Kit’s engagement to the Prince of Galladoorn. When Kit first told you about her engagement, you felt sick, anger and jealousy flooding your mind. But Kit seemed to just shrug it off, which meant she’s either completely avoiding the situation or has fully accepted her responsibility as heir to the throne.

Knowing Kit, you were pretty confident it was the former.

You scowled at the wedding dress laid out for tomorrow’s festivities. A part of you wanted to kick it under the bed, or take it in for cleaning and “accidentally” lose it. But you knew these actions would have serious consequences, so you stuck with shooting dirty looks to the garment from across the room.

While you were on the floor putting clothes away into Kit’s storage chest, you suddenly heard some commotion outside the door. Your ears perked up, trying to make out the muffled sounds. The voices of Kit and Sorsha were easy to make out, but they sounded angry, as if they were in some kind of fight.

“A petulant child who needs to grow up.”

Sorsha’s voice pierced through the door, followed by Kit’s muffled arguments, and then furious footsteps disappearing down the long corridor. Silence echoed throughout the bedroom before Kit threw open the door and stomped inside, not noticing you mostly hidden behind the foot of her bed.

Not wanting to alarm the princess, you decided to keep your presence unknown, Kit was angry enough as is. She picked up a pillow and punched it, before sitting on her bed and holding her face in her hands. The sound of her quiet sobs reverberated around the bedroom.

At this point, you felt as though you were infringing on the princess’ privacy. You were about 99.9% certain that Kit would never show this level of emotional vulnerability if she knew someone else was in the room. You slowly started to lower the lid to the now fully replenished storage chest, closing it with a dull thud.

Kit jumped at the sudden noise and whipped around, ready to yell at whoever had trespassed. Instead, she saw you standing there sheepishly, and her eyes softened.

“Oh, it’s just you.” She muttered, lowering her head again.

You rang your clammy hands in front of you. “Sorry, I was just putting away your laundry. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Kit said nothing in response and continued to stare at her lap. The tear stains painted on her cheeks reflected against the room’s soft candlelight, making them impossible not to notice. Your heart lurched, seeing her in this state was killing you. Despite how uncomfortable you felt, your caring nature overtook and you cautiously moved towards Kit.

“Are you alright, Princess?”

Kit let out a shaky breath. “Jade is leaving.”

A thick silence hung in the air as you didn’t want to interrupt. Kit continued. “She’s going to train with the knights of Galladoorn.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, moving to sit next to the princess and lay a gentle hand on her back.

The only sound in the room was your hand scratching against the smooth material of Kit’s ball gown. Kit was sitting next to you, perfectly still on the edge of the bed, with a blank expression on her face. If the situation wasn’t so heavy, you might have found it kind of peaceful.

Suddenly, Kit jumped up, startling you and accidentally knocking your hand back down. “Kit, what are you…”

“I’m leaving.” She announced before grabbing a knapsack from the corner of her room.

You were speechless, unable to process what she said. “Leaving? What do you…”

Kit cut you off by throwing open her wooden storage chest, rapidly throwing clothes over her shoulder. You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Kit! I just folded those!”

“Well I’ll need clothes wherever I’m going, right?” She shot back, messily stuffing the garments into her knapsack.

She was beginning to scare you, so you tried to reason with her. “Kit, you’ve had a rough night, you’re not thinking clearly…”

“No! No, I’m thinking clearly for the first time in my whole life.” She interrupted.

“If you were thinking clearly, you would know that running away…”

“I’m not running away!” She finally stopped packing and turned to look at you, a somewhat crazed smile on her face. She grabbed your upper arms and pulled you in close, staring at you intently.

“I’m looking for something. It’s not here. It’s out there, somewhere, waiting for me. I have to find it.”

She squeezed your upper arms and let you go, returning to finish packing. You were stunned. Thoughts of what life in the castle would be like without her flooded your mind. You wanted to stop her. You wanted to talk her into staying. You wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, screaming that she was the most selfish person you’d ever met.

Instead, you stood frozen and helpless, watching the princess you grew to care for set to leave. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you managed to barely choke up a few words.

“I wish I’d had a chance to walk with you to parties.”

Kit froze, finally pausing her packing and glancing in your direction. “You mean the balls? Because they’re really not as great as you’d think…”

“I’d wear a dress, and walk in with you on my arm.” The tears started to pour down your face. You avoided eye contact, too ashamed to look at her.

Now Kit was really confused. “So… you want to dress up and go to a ball? Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t care about the stupid balls, Kit!” You exclaimed, now full on sobbing. “I don’t wanna go to a ball! I wanna keep cracking jokes with you in the corridors. I wanna keep stealing glances in the hallways. I wanna get you some pretty little thing and tell you how good it looks on you. I wanna watch you pick out your clothes in the morning and compliment your taste… and then make a snide remark about something. I don’t know what it’d be, but you’d smile and fire something back like you always do. I wanna do all these things with you. I can’t do that if you leave!”

You continued to sob, choking on your tears and struggling to breathe evenly. You felt pathetic, and part of you was ashamed to be confessing all of this to the princess. The other part, however, figured you’d already shared this much, you might as well share everything.

Kit stared at you, wide eyed and shocked. When she told you she was leaving, this was the last reaction she had expected. She took a step towards you. “Hey…”

“I’m in love with you, Kit!” You practically shouted over your shallow breaths. “I didn’t try to be but I am. I know I’m just a servant girl and I’m not a countess or a princess or…”

You were cut off by Kit grabbing your face and pulling you close until your foreheads touched. Your breath hitched and your heart beat faster, but otherwise the closeness seemed to calm you down. It was like the world had stopped, and everything disappeared. You and Kit may as well have been the only two people on earth.

“I don’t need you to get me pretty little things.” Kit started, your name ghosting over her lips. “You are my pretty little thing.”

Kit lifted your chin and crashed her lips against yours. Your body tensed as you were completely taken by surprise, but you soon wrapped your arms around her neck and sighed into the kiss. Her lips were soft, and tasted faintly of falernian wine.

She pulled back to allow you both to catch your breath. You gasped into each other's mouths, the bittersweet smiles you wore offsetting the tear stains that still sat on both of your cheeks.

“Kit, I…”

“Shh it’s ok, pretty girl.” She whispered as she ran her thumbs over your cheeks.

It was at this moment you realized that Kit was still in her ballgown. You knew she had a general distaste towards feminine clothing, instead leaning more towards a masculine look, but you thought it looked nice on her. The silky fabric felt nice against your skin, and you couldn’t help but notice how low her neckline dipped to expose a decent amount of her cleavage.

You pressed your lips to meet hers once again, subtly moaning upon impact. The two of you started inching towards her bed, almost subconsciously as neither of you could tell who started it. Kit bent to lay you down on her duvet and pulled away to meet your eyes.

“Is this ok?” She asked in a low voice.

You nodded, reaching around to pull at the strings on her back that were fastening her dress. She let you, staying perfectly still until you untied the last knot, and then helping you pull it down to a pool around her feet.

Your eyes traveled down Kit’s body, now covered by nothing but a corselette and short braies. She crawled onto the bed to hover over you again, her lips meeting yours once more. Her hands brushed over the side of your torso, before traveling up to lightly squeeze at your breast. You shivered, allowing a whimper to escape from your lips and dissolve into Kit’s mouth.

Kit pulled away from your kiss to latch onto your jaw and gently suck. You gasped, involuntarily bucking your hips against her, causing a smirk to appear on her face. She slowly began to pepper kisses down your neck, to your collarbone, until she reached the only bit of exposed flesh near your bosom that wasn’t covered by your dress. Her big blue eyes stared up at you as she rolled your flesh between her teeth and listened to your whimpers grow desperate by the second.

“Talk to me, honey.” She mumbled, slipping a hand underneath the skirt of your dress and resting it on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

“Kit…” you sighed, breathless. She didn’t budge, instead moving to soothe the mark she gave you with her tongue. You groaned, both out of pleasure and because you knew the other servants would almost undoubtedly notice the mark and give you quite the ribbing.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” God, it was like she knew just what to say to make your brain short circuit.

“T-touch me…” you managed to sputter out. “Kit… please.”

An accomplished grin spread across Kit’s features as she lifted the skirt of your dress until there was nothing to cover you but your pantyhose. You gulped, not used to being this exposed, especially in front of the Princess of Tir Asleen. Kit’s fingers wrapped around the band of your pantyhose, looking up at you for approval. You lifted your hips, and she slid them down your legs with ease, tossing them over her shoulder as soon as they reached past your feet.

Kit stared at your naked cunt, your arousal shimmering in the candlelight. She dragged two fingers through your folds before taking them both in her mouth, moaning at your taste. You had to bite your lip to keep from crying out her name, for fear of being heard by any passer-byers.

Upon first taste, Kit knew she needed more of you. She dove into you, encircling your clit with her tongue. There was nothing you could do to stop the primal groan from escaping the back of your throat, causing Kit to pull away and place a gentle hand over your mouth.

“Shh, pretty girl. Gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You gazed at the way your juices dripped down her chin. The sight was so erotic you barely even registered that she was talking to you, focusing solely on how your arousal glistened on her puffy pink lips.

She noticed the skirt of your dress was still bunched around your waist, and lifted up the hem until it was hovering above your lips.

“Open for me.”

You parted your lips, and Kit stuffed the bottom of your dress into your mouth, the linen cloth working to muffle your moans. She smiled at you, taking pleasure in seeing you gagged. “Such a good girl.”

Kit dove back in between your legs, swiping her tongue through your slit while gently holding your legs apart. Your head fell back on the bed while suffocated moans vibrated around the linen cloth. At this point she usually would’ve stopped to ask how you were feeling, but she took your pleasured whines as approval enough and kept going.

Your abdomen began to tighten, a sensation you were all-too-familiar with from a couple late-night solo dalliances. Your whines grew louder, more desperate as your jaw clenched harder on the linen fabric.

“Kith…” you groaned, trying to warn her through the cloth.

She nodded, keeping her head between your legs. “I know honey. Let go for me, yeah? You can do it.”

Her hot breath tickling your cunt while her tongue engulfed your clit only quickened the speed of your release. Your hips sputtered, chasing her greedy tongue and painting her features with your arousal. Kit could tell how close you were, and shot you a smug smile before gently squeezing your inner thighs, forcing your body into overdrive with a minimum amount of effort.

Your orgasm crashed over you like ocean waves on an island shore. The pleasure rippled through your body, forcing your knees to shake and your head to roll. You arched your back and rocked your pussy against Kit’s face, desperately trying to get as much out of your climax as possible.

Her voice echoed around the room and disappeared into the night air. “That’s it. Doing so good. So pretty like this. I knew you could do it. So good for me.”

After a moment or two, your hips slowed and your breathing evened as you came down from your high. A final moan ghosted your lips when Kit ceased her movements, lifting her head up to look at you with arousal still glazed across her mouth and chin. She licked her lips, making sure to get every drop, and helped you take your dress out of your mouth.

You laid on the bed, hair splayed across the duvet as you tried to catch your breath. Kit moved to sit next to you, smiling down at your collapsed state. “Feel better?”

“That was…” you sighed, at a complete loss for words.

You turned your head towards Kit, her lap sitting at your eye level. Even though you were still a little woozy, you could have sworn Kit’s braies had a small wet patch just between her thighs. Wanting to test the waters, you lifted your hand and grazed it over her thigh, watching her eyelids almost droop shut, and an involuntary sigh escape from her parted lips.

In the search for your own pleasure, you had almost forgotten about Kit’s.

A new wave of confidence washed over you, and you sat up to face your princess, a wicked idea popping into your head.

“Your highness… might thou please allow me to return the favor?”

Kit stared at you, confused by the unusual formality of your words until she noticed an amused glimmer flash across your eyes. Immediately understanding and falling in with the roleplay, she grabbed your jaw with one hand and pulled you close.

“Good little maids know how to serve their princess.”

A shiver managed to travel down your body before she kissed you once more, the faint taste of your juices still lingering on her lips. You pulled away and stood her up, untying her corselette and pulling down her braies, tossing them over your shoulder.

Kit was now standing in front of you, every inch of her completely exposed. The dim light from the candles danced across her bare skin as your eyes traveled down her body. You wrapped your arms around her neck and kissed her, trying to get as much of her up against you as possible.

You pushed her to sit on the edge of her bed, leaving frantic kisses down her body until you dropped to your knees in front of her. Her legs spread to give you access, and you wasted no time immersing your face to explore her already soaking wet folds. Kit wasn’t quite as vocal as you were, but her low curses and frantic grabs at your hair let you know you were doing a good job.

Kit’s feverish bucking soon picked up the pace, already so close from watching you get off at the hands of herself. You thought about stopping to tease her while she was in her desperate and needy state, but decided against it. Instead, you attached your lips to her swollen clit, flicking it with your tongue while your hand reached up to pinch one of her erect nipples.

A primal moan escaped from the back of Kit’s throat as her climax hit her all at once. She threw a hand over her mouth, muffled curses filling the bedroom while her hips bucked and sputtered helplessly against your face.

You looked up at her after her breathing evened and she settled down, your big doe eyes making an exaggerated expression of innocence. “Was that alright, your highness?”

Kit smirked, rolling her eyes at your insistence to continue the roleplay. “Yes, maid. Thank you for your service. If I need you again, I shall ring the bell.”

Practically snorting at Kit’s blatant sarcasm, you playfully smacked her leg, making her laugh. She fell back on the bed, motioning for you to lay your head on her chest before she wrapped her arm around you, fingers brushing through your disheveled hair.

A comfortable silence filled the bedroom, the only sounds heard were your hands on Kit’s chest and the faint brushing of her fingers through your hair. As wonderful as this night was, you couldn’t let go of the burning question that still lingered in the air.

“Kit?”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

Your heart melted at the nickname, making you dread the next question even more.

“Are you still going to leave?”

Kit sighed, and let go of you to stand up and get dressed. She stepped over her ballgown still lying in a heap and opted for some more traditional masculine attire. She refused to look at you, refused to answer your question.

“Kit?”

“I have to leave.” She answered bluntly.

You felt your heart sink to your feet, and tears well up in your eyes. You actually thought she’d change her mind, thought that you meant something to her. After everything that just happened, she’s still leaving?

“Oh…”

Kit paused, swallowing before her next words. “Of course, I’ll have to be armed…”

You nodded, still staring at your lap, only half listening and not understanding.

Kit stepped in front of you, and lifted your chin to meet her gaze. “I want you to come with me.”

You froze, breath hitching in surprise, and your eyes widened at the suddenly vulnerable princess in front of you. “W-what?”

“I want you to come with me.” Kit repeated. “There’s something out there for me, I can feel it, but I don’t wanna find it without you. Think about it. On the journey, I can hunt, and you can cook. When we get to wherever we’re going, I don’t have to be a princess anymore, and you don’t have to be a servant. We can just… be. I don’t know exactly where we’re going, but I know wherever we go, I want to have you on my arm.”

You stared up at her, your brain still processing her question. She smiled at you, slightly apprehensive for your answer, and held out her arm for effect.

“I’d be better armed, if you agreed to take it.”

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neyswxrld · 10 days

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Wrecker & Tech

summary: Wrecker and Tech meet in the afterlife.

warnings/vibe: it's not something that is all too sad i guess; there's an explosion, some clichés (the light in the darkness, force ghosts, you know the drill!)

words: ~1490

a/n: happy final bad batch eve! 🖤❤️🧡🖤

ok, hear me out - i don't want to fuel or believe in any theories before the final episode tomorrow. this is just for myself, for comforting and assuring myself that no matter what, everything will be okay eventually! of course, i absolutely hope nothing bad is going to happen, but for the case that wrecker dies ((and tech actually is dead)), i needed something to hold on to. and i'm sharing this because maybe someone finds some comfort in this one, too.

p.s.: english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for mistakes!

The last thing he sees is a bright fireball.

The last thing he feels is that burning heat all over his body.

The last thing he hears are Crosshair's frantic screams for him.

And then there's nothing.

Everything is quiet, peaceful.

There aren't any aches, or pain.

He isn't hungry, thirsty, too hot or too cold.

Everything feels content and for a short moment he thinks he's flying.

Floating around, weightless. Which is funny, because due to his mutations, he's always been the biggest of his brothers. And the heaviest. But he didn't mind, as long as he was able to protect them. Keep them safe.

He almost feels comforted by the nothingness surrounding him.

Everything seems balanced. Okay.

For the first time in a long while, he doesn't even feel scared. Just... indifferent. Good indifferent.

But suddenly there's that small light in the distance.

It's almost sparkling, whirling around, and he almost feels like it's calling for him.

Slowly, he starts to float towards the light.

It seems to be warm and bright, a huge contrast to this foreign quietness surrounding him, but it's not unwelcome.

It kinda... feels like home. Like he needs to go to that light. He needs to touch it. Feel its warmth, its energy.

Carefully, he reaches for the light.

The warmth emitted from the ball suddenly swarms through his body, reaching every inch, every hair, every scar. Inside and outside.

It's so good... It feels so good. Like he has to be here.

The longer he touches the light, the brighter it gets, filling up all the surrounding space.

He has to close his eyes, the light is getting too much, and... and-

When Wrecker opens his eyes for the next time, he looks into the googled face of his brother.

This one looks down at him with a confused frown plastered across his face.

He looks... Just like on the day they lost him.

"Tech?" he asks, confused, worried.

Why is he here? Is he dreaming? Tech was... Tech is... Tech is dead. How could this be?

"Wrecker," Tech says, adjusting his goggles.

"What's goin' on?" he asks, groaning slightly as he sits up.

But it's more a reflex. Nothing... hurts. He feels fine.

"How long was I out? Has to be for a long time, I feel good, nothin' hurts. At all," he raises his arms over his head, stretching, "I- I dreamed you died. Stupid plan 99, should've never came up with that, you'd never leave us like that, right, Tech? Wouldn't just... do that," Wrecker rambles and scratches his neck with his hand, looking up to Tech.

His older brother looks at him with a weird look on his face.

"I indeed executed plan 99. It was the only way out for the majority of the squad. I kept you safe," Tech says, pulling his lips into a straight line.

"W-What?" Wrecker asks confused, before shaking his head.

For the first time, he looks around and sees some sort of space shuttle. Maybe Phees ship? Or was it the one Rex arrived with? He had no idea.

"What can you remember?" Tech asks next, shuffling on his feet a bit.

He stands in front of the bunk Wrecker lays in. The rest of the room was empty, quiet. He could hear some muffled voices outside the room, but he couldn't make out any words.

"We were going in on Tantiss. There was this massive animal kicking my ass. Hurt like hell... But I still made it. I'm not made of sugar, right? Then...," Wrecker stops for a second, thinking about everything. His memory starts to get sloppy.

"Just remember meeting Omega somewhere. She freed that zillo beast. It was huge! And then... There's something about an explosion. Crosshair almost got caught in it. I shielded him, I think," Wrecker murmurs and takes another deep breath as the memory of that burning pain around his body catches up with his brain.

But that's all - just a memory... Nothing hurts for real.

"Is he safe? Are the others? Where are they? Why are you here? Tech, I'm really confused right now," Wrecker shakes his head and looks up at his older brother again.

Tech swallows before nodding.

"They made it out fine, Wrecker," Tech assures him, before swallowing for a second time.

Why is he acting so weird?

"Great!" Wrecker exclaims, at the same as Tech says, "But you didn't."

They look at each other, keeping quiet for a while.

"I didn't?" He asks, "What do you mean by that?"

"You blew up, Wrecker. I think... you died," Tech states.

"I'm dead?" he echoes, before adding, "You think?"

"It appears that the explosion you shielded Crosshair from was a lot heavier than anticipated. While you saved Crosshair's life, you... you lost yours," Tech explains, breaking the news to him.

Wrecker looks at him for a few seconds, speechless.

That would explain why there isn't any pain. Or why he's able to talk to Tech.

They're both dead.

"I-I don't... Where are we? Why are we here?" is the next thing he wants to know, not fully able to understand how he should approach this new... situation. Everything's so strange.

"Currently, we are on a shuttle with the others. I dragged you up here. It appears that we are some kind of ghosts. At least we're in a state after life, which takes part in either some kind of parallel universe or in a temporal upheaval. I am not certain about that," Tech says, adjusting his goggles again.

Wrecker looks at him with raised brows, a huge question mark forming in his head. "You don't know?"

"In all that time I've been here, I wasn't able to fully conclude the whole extent of this... situation. But I've met some other clones, following their loved ones around in this state. So I assume it's a part of life, or, more precisely, the afterlife," his older brother sighs a little.

Wrecker pulls his feet over the edge of the bunk so he's fully sitting now, holding his head in his hands.

"Can the others see us?" Wrecker asks and Tech looks at him like he just lost his head.

"Of course not."

Wrecker feels like he just lost his head.

"It takes time getting used to. I'll leave you alone so you can think about it," Tech says.

Wrecker thinks he still acts a little odd. Not like the Tech he used to know. Not like the Tech that... was alive.

Tech seems to be honest about the fact that it takes some time to get used to the new situation. Wrecker isn't sure if his brother even got used to it by now. Not with how he's acting. And now... He's here, too.

"Tech," Wrecker starts and reaches for his brothers' wrist, gently laying his fingers around it and pulling him towards him.

"I-I don't want to be alone. Can you stay?" he says and moves to the side a little.

Tech nods and carefully sits down, unusually close to him.

"Have you been alone the whole time since..?" he wants to know, but Tech just shrugs.

"I was following the squad around," Tech murmurs and sinks into Wrecker's side as he lays an arm around him.

They haven't 'cuddled' like that in so, so many years.

"But now you have me," Wrecker whispers almost. He doesn't know if he's glad or sad about it.

Sure, he saved Crosshairs life. He helped his brothers. He had Tech again. But he'll miss the others. So, so much.

Tech has had to go through those first steps alone. He must have been so lost in the beginning. So lonely.

"Are we going to see the others again when they... When they die?" he wants to know after some time.

"That seems to be very likely," Tech answers, and Wrecker nods again.

That means he could still watch over them, be with them, and meet them again. And now, neither him or Tech, or the others will be alone for a while. Hopefully.

They freed Omega, they made a run for their lives.

They lost brothers, gained friends and family.

They settled down on a remote planet.

Quiet and peaceful.

They made a life for themselves, far, far away from the empire and all the evil in the world.

They saw Omega grow up.

They saw the others growing old.

They saw the others live the life they never had the chance to. And they were happy for them.

When Hunter joined them one day, they welcomed him with warm hugs and reassurances that everything would be fine.

As soon as Crosshair was with them, they almost felt complete once more.

When they followed Omega to Rex and his remaining brothers, they met Echo again.

Together, they kept watching over their baby sister, never forgetting their promises of staying with her.

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@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

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soridwritierlovesculture · 2 months

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CONTENTS-one shot, childhood friends to lovers, vampire x human (both over 18yrs of age), smut, mentions of blood

Helena stilled, the door closing behind her.

“Tristan? What are you…how did you get up here?”

“…The window was open.”

“You climbed up that tree again,” she said with a sigh, “honestly what is wrong with you? You realize it’s very late now right? What if the guards mistook you for a prowler or something?”

Tristan chuckled as he stepped further in and she removed her cloak to reveal her simple white night dress. Her copper hair was damp from her bath still, and Helena swatted his hand away when he reached out to let one of her curls coil around his finger.

“This is inappropriate Tristan Deritor.”

“I agree.”

“Then leave.”

“You know something Helena,” Tristan said as he pulled her down to sit beside him on her bed, “even when we were kids, you always had, such an interesting smell.”

Helena gritted her teeth and swatted at him again, but this time Tristan caught her by the wrist. His eyes gleamed red as he pressed the inside of her wrist to his lips, and when he took a deep breath Helena felt a chill run through her as a choked grunt sounded from his throat.

“You said you’d never drink.”

“No, I said I’d never lose myself in the drink. Both, however, seem to be quite impossible now.”

“At least tell me why.”

“Because I crave you more than anyone I’ve known, more than ever before. I dream of your copper hair and forest eyes, of the light dusting of specks all over your skin, of how warm you feel next to me. I wonder about your tenaciousness, your cutting and glib remarks, your thirst for adventure and romance, your fascination with things you could never hope to understand. And I thirst. I’ve been so terribly thirsty for so long, I can feel my blood burning within me, and it’s all for you.”

Tristan bit into the space on her wrist he’d kissed and wrapped an arm around her waist when she jolted to hold her in place. Helena whimpered as he drank from her, a trickle of blood escaping his lips and lazily rolling down her arm, and Tristan stopped sucking her wound to lick it up, dragging his tongue up it’s trail before licking over where his fangs had punctured her flesh. Helena tore her wrist from him and slapped him, hard, and Tristan let his head roll back before gazing down at her. That taste…he’d had it once, by accident, when they were young. She’d scrapped herself climbing through a rosebush while playing, and he’d ‘kissed them better’ for her while she held back tears and pulled the thorns from her arms.

“Your blood is of the finest quality, Helena Faizre, and your scent a beacon to those most unworthy of it.”

“I always told you to ask.”

Tristan stiffened as angry tears welled in the corner of her eyes.

“What?”

“I always said, ask and if I’m ready, I’ll help you get whatever you wanted. We’ve been friends forever, and you couldn’t just ask for a vial or something? You had to break into my room in the middle of the night on the eve of my late fathers funeral?”

“A vial,” Tristan said, his voice thick as it rumbled from his chest, “would not have been enough. I have wanted to consume you, all of you, for years. I thought if I did though, I’d make a mistake, one that would cost me you, and your father… Teacher has been my sobering rock since forever. I don’t have him anymore, but I do have you. And I want to do what I never could before, and keep you under my skin. Will you give me you if I but ask, Helena?”

“…For tonight.”

“…Helena.”

“You may have me for tonight, and then you will go away. Go away and stay out of my sight, until I feel like I can be near you again.”

Tristan almost said no. He almost apologized for his selfishness and left her then and there, he almost did the right thing. But then he swallowed, and the taste of her on his tongue was a vice on his mind.

“Yes,” he said, and Helena gasped as he pushed her back, climbed stop her, and ripped the top of her night dress in one fell swoop. The topmost buttons scattered as they popped clean off, and Tristan buried me hand in her hair and the other between her legs as he pulled her head to the side to expose her throat and bit down hard. The sound she made when his finger rubbed her entrance through her undergarments as he drank, the way her thighs tightened around him when he pressed his hips in and tugged on her hair, the warmth of her pussy on his fingers and hands on his arms and blood in his throat.

“Tristan,” she breathed out, and the groan from his throat was tortured and hungry. She felt so good, TASTED so, so good, and he released her neck to kiss her lips as he pushed her undergarments out of the way and slid a finger inside, swallowing the moan she let out and letting his fangs break the skin of her lip to drink from there too. It was warm and wet inside her, and so small for a moment he thought his finger would be squeezed off, and then he began moving it slowly, in and out, curling it slightly to find that sweet secret spot within her, and when he pressed it she buckled under him, her eyes wide breath short as she clamped a hand over her mouth to just barely stop the cry that welled up in her throat.

“Do it again, Helena. Let me see it one more time while I taste you.”

“Tristan. What-“

Helena swore she couldn’t breath as he moved down suddenly, his finger still inside her, and she whimpered when he slid another finger in slowly and bit the inside of her thigh. The sensation was maddening, but oh how she would cry if he stopped now. She could feel herself stretching over his fingers as they slowly picked up speed, and his breath on pussy as he drank from her was hot and unsteady. When he let go she hoped he wasn’t done, then regretted it when he spread her farther open and licked up the seam of her lower lips. There was a jolt, then Helena’s breath caught again as his tongue circled the bud under the top of seam, the one she’d toyed with on occasion but never had it felt like this. Her eyes rolled, her hips jutted against his face, and Tristan pushed another inside her, the stretch and onslaught of his tongue becoming unbearable. She knew not how she sounded, for her hearing seemed to have dulled considerably as the rising shock in her body took over her senses, and when he stopped licking her to press his thumb first in his mouth and then on the bud itself, Helena felt tears slip from her eyes as his fingers and thumb seemed to be pushing her farther than she thought possible. Tristan had moved back up her body this time to bite her tongue as it hung from her mouth, and when he kissed her again Helena cried out as something exploded with her, his fingers still pumping inside as she flailed amd jerked about under him. There were stars and spots in her vision, her body trembled and her skin was on fire, but she’d never felt more alive.

Tristan had kept one eye on the mirror not far from the bed to watch her climax, and he grunted and moaned as he felt her come apart, saw how her body moved, tasted the salt of her sweat, the sweetness of her blood. Pulling his fingers out slowly as her body crumbled into the bed, still splayed it under him, Tristan brought them to his lips and sucked her juices off them, watching her breath settle and her nipples half relax. She was so soft, so warm, so wet… he brushed his fingertips over one of his bites and smirked when he felt her twitch.

“Are you greedy now, Helena? Do you now thirst for me as I do you? Greedy little Birdy, what should we do with you?

Her eyes weren’t quite focused but she did let out a breathy little chuckle, and Tristan was thirsty all over again.

“Birdy…you haven’t…called me that … in a long time.”

“No I haven’t. It felt wrong once I realized my feelings and thoughts had changed.”

“Mine… too.”

Tristan stilled, his eyes focused on a drop of blood that welled up on her lip.

“What?”

“I’ve wanted…you too. It…was wrong…but I wanted more.”

“Helena-“

“Give me more,” she said then, reaching out to him as he sat on his haunches between her legs. Her copper hair was a luscious curled stain on the sheets, her eyes were hooded and hungry, her breasts were swollen with need and her skin still had a light sheen from her sweat. She moved her hips again, just a little, and the heat of her pussy pressed against his hard on, the fabric of their clothes barely containing their arousal.

“Give your little Birdy more. I want to sing for you.”

Something snapped inside him, and Tristan stripped immediately and then tore the rest of her night dress in half, her undergarments along with them. Lifting her up so that she was straddling him, he held her as he used the cum leaking from his hard on to moisten himself as he kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck, her jaw.

“Tristen.”

“Sshh Birdy, just a little more.”

Tristan felt her grip his hair and tug, and when he put his head back she kissed him, deeply, the moan on her lips coming from deep in her chest. He moved her over his cock and teased her pussy with the head of his cock, pushing in not too far and letting it pop back out. She whined each time, the kiss turning desperate, and when she nipped his lips Tristan laughed and pushed in more, slowly, gritting his teeth as he did because fuck she was so tight. He needed to focus, to make sure she didn’t hurt too much, but she was so hot on his cock and in his hands and the thirst was worse somehow now, and so Tristan broke the kiss to simultaneously bite into her breast and push her down fully onto him. He clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the yelp she let out as he bit harder into her breast to control his own sound, and for the smallest moment they were simply there, her pained but full, him agonized but ecstatic. Then Tristan moved her legs around so she had a better sitting position and Helena hugged around his shoulders as he released her breast to drink from another part of her neck, and then he began to move. Helena felt lightheaded somehow and at first there was a burn inside from when he’d pushed all the way inside her, but now she just felt bliss. He was so deep inside her, deeper than she’d thought possible, and she could swear her hair was tingling with each long, slow thrust. His hands roamed her back, traveling to get lost in her hair, to glide up and down her spine and circle the small of her back, to squeeze and spread the cheeks of her ass, and that building shock from when he’d toyed with her resurfaced the longer they went.

Tristan savored each thrust as he drank, growing delirious on the high but trying so hard to keep his attention on her. He thought if he died buried inside her it would be without regrets, and he wanted to memorize every thing about each second as he moved. He wanted to be deeper, to permiate her very being, to own it, to hold it forever, so he could feel this for eternity. Take it, a little voice inside him said, and Tristen moved them so that she was on her stomach and he was behind her, half laying on her back as he bit into the back of her neck. His pace quickened as he buried his cock inside her again and again, his balls slapping against her ass, her blood coating his throat and spilling from his mouth, and when they climaxed together they both cried out and collapsed, Tristan letting himself drain into her as they both twitched and moaned from the ecstasy they’d shared. When he did pull himself from her, Tristan watched the blood from her ruined purity mix with his seed a moment before using a clean bit of the sheets to wipe her up, and the two of them curled up into each other and slept.

In the morning, when Helena awoke naked and alone, she looked out her open window just as a bird flew in with a paper tied to itself.

It read, ‘I will always be near you, Birdy. I refuse to be anywhere else.”

#vampire #smut #childhood friends to lovers #medeival #tw blood #oneshot

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trashyeggroll · 2 years

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More Gabrielle Content Please

under the cut: anon giving me what for about the lack of Gabrielle content in all the good!! And I'll tell ya what, well deserved, because I was thinking the same thing, but trying to pretend like it wasn't happening, sigh

Thanks so much for this read!! Lots of good stuff: More about Eve's inherited rites from Gabrielle, even more Gabrielle parenting, Gabrielle dealing more directly with the consequences of Livia's face traipsing all over the city... love 'em!

Hello, I hope you don't mind some Anonymous posting using this link on your page, this request is just too long for an Ask. I know ALL THE GOOD is mainly about Varia and Eve with a side of Xena because they're the most up front personalities and main characters to the story, but would it be possible you think in a coming chapter to work in some Gabrielle content? It's feeling very much like the show in the early years where she was ignored in the name of Xena. Xena is the lead between them I get it, but Gabrielle is still suppose to be an important person to the journey. They're in an Amazonian heavy city yet because of the physical challenges of the gauntlet Xena is getting spotlight time with Varia. Because Eve is her daughter and they have conflict about her actions it's mainly been Xena with Eve, but the thing is Gabrielle is meant to be her other mother also and yet we've gotten no real content with them. Eve is supposedly the next in line to lead Gabrielle's clan because she gave Eve her right of cast but Eve isn't really talking to Gabrielle about what that means and if she wants to pass it on to someone else because she doesn't want to lead she just wants to help people via her new religion.

The blonde kid Varia saw thanks to Aphrodite is totally their kid we know and because Callisto is also blonde most might connect that to her instead of Gabrielle. Gabrielle just feels kind of shafted right now and I understand she's busy trying to lead a city and stop fights from becoming wars, but I really just want to see her and Eve take a moment to walk down the city streets and talk. Let Gabrielle tease her over how she's trying to essentially date her mother because while most see Xena as a blood thirsty ex-warlord she's actually not that alone...let Gabrielle mention the alternate universe the Fates showed Xena where Lycius was alive and Xena was the good guy who knew still how to fight, assuming Xena told her about this! That's kind of Varia - well meaning and tactically smart (still learning here also though so not on Xena's level even when Xena was younger) but violence does follow her; unlike Xena though she's better at controlling it...plus you know there's the black hair and great body elements ha.

Nodding back to season two in this way could be fun because no one knows of this part of the saga except Gabrielle. People have mentioned Callisto in the tags I noticed, if Eve asked about her how does that make Gabrielle feel and has Gabrielle's opinion on her changed any since she saw the real her sans Xena's cruelty changing her? Does Gabrielle forgive Callisto any or still feel her actions are on her especially with regards to Copernicus? I think that was her husband's name but honestly I'm not sure as we did not take that relationship seriously in the fandom! Sorry guy, you were nice but not the one for her even if she only dated men. Callisto examinations understandably mainly run through Xena because she is the flip side to her and the representation of all the harm Xena did when evil but she also effected Gabrielle and how does Gabrielle feel about that? How would Callisto?! She essentially did to Gabrielle what Xena did to her and she doesn't seem sorry for it outwardly; instead of keeping her vengeance to destroying Xena she did hurt some innocent people not always in the name of that goal.

Back to Eve though, the show said Gabrielle had the job as the other parent but we've never seen it. It's always Xena warning Eve of Rome when she was Livia and people saying how she's Xena's and Callisto's daughter but rarely does Gabrielle get recognized; yeah they didn't raise her so there's sadly no memories Gabrielle can really bring up to say "when you were little", maybe she has one but it's the ONLY one given again the short time together, but she has a chance to help guide her now. I just feel for poor Gabrielle because people say she's the second parent but no one seems to respect her much on that front and instead it's constantly Xena and Callisto getting invoked when Eve/Livia is mentioned even though neither had anything to do with the fact that cruelty arguably came straight from Rome. Yes you can say she may have a genetic talent for it given her DNA but Rome is good at teaching violence to those whom they want to have it and Ares screwing with her also sure didn't help I'm sure! I would just like to send you this to express a request for more love for Gabrielle in coming chapters of your awesome story because it feels like she's in the shadows again and she deserves more front and center time given their surroundings especially I feel!

Gabrielle is an Amazonian queen and the head of the queens it sounds in this story and the Amazons hate Xena and Livia so I'm kind of surprised Gabrielle hasn't broke up more fights involving people with them or explained how that's not who they're now. If someone from Rome sees Eve and whispers "Livia?!" how does she use her bardic skills to calm the fear in her child like she would try to balance her wife when people said she was just evil still and refused to let her help until it was almost too late? Can she calm Eve when she's blinded by anger the same way she miraculously calmed Xena when Xena wanted to kill the The Horde people simply because of history between them and they handed her one of her rare losses; does she accept her solution to fix the bigger problem leaves Eve angry like Xena was and she'll just wait until she's ready to talk to her again like Xena eventually did post "The Price"? I realize now I could have done an Ask to say MORE GABRIELLE IN ALL THE GOOD PLEASE, but this explains a little more why I feel the need to send that so again hopefully you won't mind this. 😁

#submission #atgtyh

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a-regular-ol-pill · 2 years

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just recently discovered your blog and i like your current content! i was wondering if you could do a hayabusa x f!reader where reader is insecure of kagura and hanabi? angst with a happy ending pleasee

"If not for.."

Mobile Legends; Bang Bang

Pairing; Hayabusa, You.

SFW

Requested? Yes.

Small note for requester; I'm sincerely glad you enjoy my content, and I hope this sprinkles a bit of angst in your day! (I REALLY overwrote this because I almost had this same experience.. I'm so sorry if it barely has anything to do with your idea!)

Want to Request? Click here.

Want a more direct link? Click here.

Warning(s); Mentions of Killing, Near death situation, Insecurities, Rumors, Mental health problems, literally angst and heartbreak, etc..?

Word Count; N/A

Second Person Perspective.

Pronouns used for reader; 'She', 'Her', etc...

Prompt;

"You hate the fact that people compare you to someone that's better for Hayabusa."

It was a miracle, how someone like you landed a relationship with Hayabusa. Most of the town knew that he was arranged to marry Hanabi, everyone meaning you as well. You were often called a 'homewrecker' for making Hayabusa 'confused' of his feelings. Even Kagura could have landed a better shot in winning Hayabusa's heart, and his parents. Which is something that you; can't do. Both of them were drop dead gorgeous, Hayabusa could have easily won them over, or be won over by them.

So why did it have to be you?

Why did it have to be you that caught his eye everytime you walk by? Why did it have to be you that he secretly asked out before everything went public? Why did it have to be you that stole his heart the moment you became friends? Why? It was the same thing every day, you notice him and the two girl's chemistry grow into an even bigger one, while the townsfolk shame you for something you couldn't control.

Rinse, repeat, recycle as they say. But recycling those everyday incidents breaks you bit by bit. Not healing, not reseting— as if the previous day didn't matter. Of course it does! Gosh, you were a mess for not being able to talk to that problem with Hayabusa. Everytime you try, it's either your own guardian pulling you back to 'save a marriage', or, a passerby that despises the ever living crap out of you— also holding you back because of the rumor that you seduced the poor man.

Your heart ached at every insult that was thrown at you. And you couldn't even find comfort in your own lover that caused the whole mess. You could always feel your legs shaking when Hayabusa knocks on your door. It wasn't like the good old times that you were simply flustered— No. Everything's even more complicated than that. Every single day when you holed up in your room, you could always overhear the whispers of joy when they thought you were giving up. Which wasn't far from the truth.

Every day, you found yourself being lost. Lost of the person you once was. You wonder how you became the person you were before. Were you caring? Did you take so much information so you could babble about useless things that people won't even listen to anyways? How did you even dress every day? Did you wear robes? Dresses? Kimono's? Who were you to everyone, before you became the 'homewrecker'?

Everytime you peak out to see what was up, and hopefully have a moment of silence to yourself in the forest. You'd find the horrible image of Hayabusa either talking, or flirting with Hanabi or Kagura. Literally draining out every emotion and energy you had to try and calm yourself. You'd find yourself in the room after seeing the sickening image, shaking and crying to the point where you'll get thirsty, and pass out every hour— Because of the fear of going out, you couldn't quench your undying thirst.

Your brain wasn't even on your side. It'll force itself to create sickening images of Hayabusa with Kagura. Having a picnic, while Hanabi's training with him, and laughing when one of them falls to their butt. Hell— You'd even hyperventilated after waking up from that image. But no one was there to help you, not your 'friends', not your family. Not even Hayabusa. Did he even notice your absence? Did he even realize the shit talk people were giving you?

To put it simply, no. He had not. He kept being distracted, and having so much fun with his childhood friend— That he failed to notice the heartbroken eyes on him. He failed to notice your shaky body before you locked yourself in. And he failed to hear the whispers of joy that you clearly heard. It could have been a whole year of not realizing you were gone— If only your sibling hadn't come back from their scouting for more supplies.

If it had not been for your sibling, he would have failed to hear the loud cries of help when your sibling found you— Barely even heaving in your state. If it had not been for your sibling, he would have never remembered the; Still current state of your relationship. And if it had not been for your sibling... well. Hayabusa would have been crying over your grave. But he's not.

He's with you, drowing out your sibling's exclaims of how arrogant he was for not taking care of you, and drowing out how your sibling made your guardian choke on their own blood. Just like how you choked in your tears. Everyone was shitty to you, even him. If not for your sibling... you might've just rotted in your own room for months, until someone came to check on the foul smell. Not to check on you, but for the horrid smell.

Five days. Five days of absence and ignorance, this is the result. An empty husk of the person he loved the most. He has hopes he could revive you, bring back peace to your soul that has received nothing but abuse for finding love. Love that he could have cherished, the same way you cherished every moment with him. Stupidity, and ignorance. He despises them, but acted on them out of pure bliss, bliss from the people that helped cause the whole thing. His two other friends. Not because they spread the rumor themselves, but because they were always, and perfectly paired with Hayabusa. How ironic was that?

Oh, how he wished to go back in time to check up on you, even before you started losing your mind over the whispers of the townsfolk. He'd kill everyone in the village he's bound to protect, just to bring you back. If not, get a reaction out of you. Because right now, you're only staring at a previously hot bowl of soup. It'd turned cold from how long you were looking at it. He could see you weren't the same. The eyes, it was the one that gave it away. Those lifeless, and sunken eyes that made you look like death. Truthfully, He was the cause of it.

He knew he was the last person you'd want to talk to, but he still had to try. He reached his hand out and gently urged the bowl up, to his relief— You obliged, and let the bowl press between your lips, and let the soup run down your throat. In any other occasion, you would have choked. But for some odd reason, you didn't, and downed the whole thing in one go. The bland taste of cold soup lingered in your mouth. But it helped with your cannibalizing stomach.

The tension was unbearably thick for Hayabusa, seeing you motionless and not moving drove him insane with guilt. He could barely picture your awestrucking image, or hear your voice. It was faint in his mind, and he couldn't help but groan quietly. He hadn't even felt your hand without his gloves. That didn't happen, and now— He craved to feel it. Hope was something he hadn't been desperate of, but he's plenty desperate of it now. He looked up to see you, eyes closed and breathing softly. Of course you had to sleep.. everything literally and figuratively punched you in the face, after all.

"Just one second.." He whispered to no one in particular, immediately taking off his gloves in one swift movement before lacing your fingers through his. Your hand felt cold to the touch, but the warmth he felt after feeling your hand felt nice. One second became an hour, as he had fell asleep on your thigh. You weren't oblivious of course, you saw how he doubted himself before finally holding your hand. There was some sense of comfort to that, but you weren't eager to cherish it. It didn't feel the same. Probably because he didn't have his gloves on, but still..

Days. It took days for you to go back to 'normal'. You moved around a lot more, and have recovered from your physical trauma. But not mental one. When Hayabusa was finally able to hug you— He was immediately punched in the gut by your words; "Things aren't just gonna magically go back to normal from a hug. It isn't the same anymore." From that, he became restless and grew more fearful at the thought of losing you. He just got you back, but you had your relationship in the tips of your fingers...

You could drop everything, and leave him rotting his brain from overthinking. Though.. that wasn't how you were. A part of you that your mental health left was your kindness, and giving attitude of agreeing to give him a second chance. Hayabusa swore that the gods gave him a chance he didn't deserve. But considering that he could be re-living the bright relationship he had with you, how dumb will he be to refuse?

Chances that will be used for a good intention is something that you can take. He can take in this case. He would take every chance to be with you, and just cherish you— Like how you cherished him. At night, he would sneak into your house to whisper loving things to you to help you sleep. He won't make the same mistake again.

Call him obsessed, because he won't care. As long as he knows he's putting you into consideration. That's all he needs to keep on living, without guilt..

I hope you enjoyed reading this, as much as I enjoyed writing it! Take care of yourself! <3

#mobile legends bang bang #mobilelegendsbangbang #mlbb #mobile #mobilelegends #mobile legends x reader #x reader #mlbb angst #hayabusa #mlbb hayabusa #hayabusa mlbb #mobile legends hayabusa #hayabusa mobile legends

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Ruki Route ー Chapter 4

ー The scene starts on the Carnival’s venue

Yui: Wait, Ruki-kun! Where are we going?

Ruki: Apparently the Sky Terrace we were informed of earlier has a facility which treats injuries. We’re headed there.

Yui: A facility which treats injuries? At the Sky Terrace...?

Ruki: Don’t ask me about the details, but it says so on this flyer. It’s worth checking out, don’t you think?

Yui: ( Could it be...For the wound on my arm? )

Ruki-kun, the injury on my arm is fine, you know? I only lightly scraped it, and it already stopped bleeding as well, so...

Ruki: It’s not ‘fine’, is it. I’m the one who made you get hurt. I’ll take proper responsibility.

All you need to do is keep quiet and follow behind me.

Yui: ( It really is fine though...Ruki-kun must be really worried about it. )

( I got away with just a light scratch because Ruki-kun saved me...So he definitely shouldn’t blame himself. )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene skips to the Sky Terrace

Yui: ‘Refresh at our spa, a space for relaxation’...

So the facility to have your injuries treated is actually a spa...

( It looks like an open air bath. So they have these in the Demon World too... )

Ruki: The hot water in this bath is said to be highly effective for the treatment of injuries. The flyer from earlier made that very clear.

I don’t want to blindly trust those words...But it’s worth the try. Go ahead and take a nice, long bath.

Yui: Huh? You won’t take one too?

Ruki: I’m fine. I’ll wait for you here.

Yui: But...I feel bad for making you wait all by yourself...

Ruki: Haha...What’s that? You’re being rather bold today.

You even want to be together with me in the bath...Where you’d have to take off all your clothes to get inside?

Yui: Together...?

( Don’t tell me, it’s a mixed bath!? )

Ruki: Well, if you insist, I don’t mind considering it...

What do you say?

Yui: S-Sorry! Please wait here after all...!

Ruki: That’s why I told you. ...Besides.

ー He steps closer

*Rustle*

Yui: Eh? ...W-What? Ruki-kun?

Ruki: I’m sure you haven’t picked up on it, but I’ve been sensing a strange aura this whole time.

Yui: A strange aura...?

Ruki: Yes. It seems like there’s someone who is trying to sniff us out.

I can only assume you would be their target. You’re the Queen of the Carnival after all.

If we were to be attacked, I would rather not be completely naked. That’s why I’ll stand guard right here.

Yui: ...Uhm, does that mean...I’d have to run away without any clothes on?

Ruki: Don’t worry. Livestock never needed clothes to begin with.

Yui: No way, how could you say that...!?

Ruki: Hah...Come on, just get going. I said you could take your time, but get out before you get dizzy, okay? (1)

Yui: ( I honestly don’t know if Ruki-kun is kind or not... )

ー The scene shifts to inside the spa

Yui: Hm...

( Ruki-kun said there’s someone tracking us down but...Who could it be? )

( I wonder if the ‘Queen of the Carnival’ thing Ruki-kun mentioned is related to it after all? )

( However, the scent of my blood should be suppressed, so why would they target me...? )

...Ah.

*Splash*

Yui: ( Amazing...! I’ve only been soaking in the water for a few minutes, but the wound is already healing! )

( So it really does have a healing effect. )

( ...I’m glad. Once my injuries are all better, Ruki-kun won’t have to worry about it anymore either. )

*SCENE SHIFT*

Ruki: ...

...So they’ve started moving.

However, this presence...

...

...Seems like things might get a little troublesome.

*SCENE SHIFT*

Yui: ( ...Wow. You can’t even tell I ever hurt myself anymore. )

( As to be expected of the Demon World, it’s almost like magic. In that case, I suppose I can get ouーー )

*Rattle*

Yui: ...Eh?

ー Ruki steps inside

Yui: Wha...Ruki-kun!?

Ruki: Quiet. Your voice echoes.

Yui: I can’t be quiet right now! Why are you here...!?

*Splash*

Yui: ( He’s touching the water...? W-What is he doing...? )

Ruki: ...Haah.

Yui: Uhm, Ruki-kun...?

Ruki: How long do you intend to stay in there? If your wounds have healed, hurry up and get out. Let’s go.

Yui: Eh!? H-Hold up!

ー Yui gets out of the water

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Wait, Ruki-kun! I haven’t properly put on my clothes yet...!

Ruki: Don’t dawdle. You should at least be able to get dressed swiftly.

Yui: Easy for you to say...

ー She fixes her clothes

Ruki: ...Oi.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...His hand is on my hip...! )

Ruki: Behave yourself. ...They’re here.

Yui: Eh...?

???: ーー Blood...

Thirsty Vampire A: The scent of delicious blood...!

Yui: ( W-What? We’re surrounded by Vampires...!? )

Thirsty Vampire B: Give us your blood, human...!

Yui: ( Compared to the Vampires we’ve crossed paths with up till now, there’s clearly something wrong with them...! )

( They’re all after my blood...? )

( However, the bleeding has stopped and the wound is gone too, so why...!? )

Ruki: ...I knew it.

Either way, we have to get past them first. I’ll explain everything laーー

*Thud*

Yui: Ow...!

Ruki: Oi, Yui!

Yui: ( What pushed me just now? It was an incredible force...! )

( ...Oh no! I got separated from Ruki-kun! )

Ruki: Yui, stay here! I’llーー

*Rustle*

ー The screen becomes blurry

Yui: ...What!?

( Next is, some sort of powder...!? )

Ruki: Fuck, they even prepared this...!

ー Yui closes her eyes

Yui: ( What is this powder...!? I can’t keep my eyes open...! )

( At this rate, I’ll only get even further away from Ruki-kun...! )

Ruki: Yui, just stay there! Don’t move carelessly!

Yui: O-Okay...!

*Rustle*

ー Somebody grabs hold of her wrist

Yui: Ah!

Thirsty Vampire C: Hehe...Gotcha...

Thirsty Vampire B: Aah, it’s the scent of delicious blood...Makes me want to suck her dry down to the very last drop.

Yui: No, stop...!

Ruki: Yui!! Don’t move!

Yui: ( Even if he says that, the Vampires are pushing me...! )

Thirsty Vampire A: Well then, human...Let us savor you thoroughly...

Yui: ...Stop...!

ー She continues backing away, accidentally stepping off the edge

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Eh?

( There’s no...ground under my feet...? )

Ruki: Yui!!

( Right...This is a terrace so... )

( ...I’m fallingーー...!! )

ー Yui tumbles off the edge

*Thud*

Yui: ( ...Huh...? )

Ruki: ーー Open your eyes. Everything is okay now.

ー She opens her eyes

Yui: Ruki-kun...!

Ruki: Don’t make such pathetic noises. ...Were you that scared?

Yui: I mean, we got separated and I nearly had my blood sucked as well...I thought I was going to fall.

Ruki: That’s why I told you to keep still.

Good grief, how many times do you intend to give me a near heart attack (2)?

Yui: Sorry...

Ruki: I��ll listen to all your apologies later. For now...Don’t let go. Hold onto me tightly.

Yui: ...Yeah.

( Ruki-kun saved me again... )

...Say, Ruki-kun? How did you know where I was?

There were tons of Vampires flocking around me and you shouldn’t have been able to see because of the white powder they scattered about...

Ruki: Who knows.

I was most definitely blinded and without the scent of your blood to go off of, I couldn’t act on the spot.

But even so...From the second I knew you had tumbled off the terrace, I jumped off without thinking.

Without a single clue and relying only on vague sensations, I desperately reached out my arms.

Anyway, I simply trusted on my instinct and wholehearted intent to save you...Which is how I managed to catch you in my arms like this.

I’m usually not the type of person to rely on something unless I’ve confirmed it with my very own eyes though...Heh...It truly is strange.

Yui: ...Thank you, Ruki-kun. For coming to my rescue.

Ruki: I’m glad you’re safe.

Oi, hang on tight. While we’re up in the air, let’s head straight there.

Yui: Head...To where?

Ruki: To his castle. You are the Queen after all. Or have you forgotten your own duty perhaps?

Yui: Ah...Right. That’s true.

( Once we’re there...I’ll have my duties as the Queen, so I won’t be able to spend time at the Carnival with Ruki-kun like this. )

...

Ruki: Oh? Now this is new. You rarely snuggle up to me like this...

Yui: It’s because I’m scared I’ll fall...

Ruki: ...In that case, I’ll take you to the castle slowly.

We’re running short on time but...Well, I suppose it’s fine. The star of the show always arrives late.

Once we’ve reached the castle...My duty will come to an end.

Until then...Go ahead and enjoy this time to your heart’s content.

Yui: ( This really is the end... )

( I feel like our time together really flew by today. )

( Once we’re at the castle and I’ve fulfilled my duties as this ‘Queen of the Carnival’, I’ll have to say farewell to Ruki-kun, right? )

( ... )

( I want to spend more time with Ruki-kun after all... )

( I’d be sad if things were to end like this... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the area in front of the castle

Yui: ( ...We’ve already arrived. )

( This is where ‘that man’, the person Ruki-kun and the others obey, lives... )

Ruki: Yui, I’m putting you down.

Yui: Y-Yeah...

*Rustle*

Ruki: ...This is the venue. Let’s go.

Yui: Y-Yeah...

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yui: ( There’s nobody here...? )

Ruki: Yui, don’t wander around.

Yui: Ah, yeah.

Say, Ruki-kun? What exactly does the Queen have toーー

Ruki: My sincere apologies for the wait. ーー Karlheinz-sama.

Yui: ( Karlheinz-sama...? )

Karlheinz: Raise your head, Ruki. No need to be so humble.

Ruki: Yes.

Yui, you should greet him too. This is Karlheinz-sama...The owner of this castle, as well as the King of Vampires.

( Then this the infamous ‘that man’ who Ruki-kun and the others follow? )

( They owe their lives to him, right...? )

Karlheinz: Hello, Eve. I suppose it is my first time meeting you looking like this? My apologies for the belated greeting.

Yui: Ah, n-no! Nice to meet you. I’m Komori Yui. Uhm, you see...!

Ruki: Yui, calm down a little.

Karlheinz: Fufu...No need to bow your head to me. You are the star of tonight after all.

How was it, Ruki? Did you enjoy the Carnival?

Ruki: ...I did. Although we ran into a few close calls as well.

Karlheinz: Hooh? That must have been quite misfortunate.

However...You were able to deal with all of it, no?

Ruki: ...You were the one behind it after all, weren’t you? I figured that might be the case.

Yui: Eh? ...Ruki-kun, what do you mean?

Ruki: That everything which happened to us today was part of this man’s plan.

Yui: Everything...To which extent?

Ruki: Everything is everything. The creepy magician and clowns at Saint Nore Park...

I’m sure the Vampires who attacked us on the sky terrace were doing so under his direct order as well.

Yui: ( Then...He put us in danger on purpose...? )

( ...That’s just so... )

Karlheinz: I expected no less from you, Ruki. You are as clever as ever. When did you realize?

Ruki: The surrounding Vampires would target her, despite the fact the wound on her arm had healed.

Afterwards, I touched the bath water...and then my suspicions were confirmed. I could sense your magic in it.

Karlheinz: Inflicting injury upon Eve was not part of my plan. To make it up to you, I healed her wounds.

She is your precious Eve, right? You still have a long way to go Ruki, since you let her blood spill from something other than your fangs.

Ruki: My sincere apologies.

Yui: No way...Why are you apologizing, Ruki-kun...?

Ruki-kun protected me the best he could...!

Ruki-kun...Why would you say sorry?

Ruki: Yui?

Yui: I mean, we’re the ones who were in danger, right...?

Ruki: Cut it out, Yui. I get why you would grow defiant after everything you’ve been through butーー

Yui: No, that’s not what I’m trying to say...!

This person...He tested you, didn’t he?

Toying with a person’s feelings like that...Is simply something I can’t let slide.

( How dare he test Ruki-kun, who was so worried about my injuries, looking at me with a strained look in his eyes...That’s just too cruel! )

Karlheinz: Toy with a person’s feelings...Huh? I can’t deny that.

When you’ve lived as long as I have, you can’t help but develop some questionable tastes.

Yui: ...If you feel bad, then apologize to Ruki-kun, please.

Ruki: ...Don’t be ridiculous! How could you ask him to apologize?

Yui: You were being tested too, you know!? That’s just too mean...!

Ruki: Even if you think that way, you should realize who you are talking to. I’m sure you know that much, no?

Yui: ...However, it isn’t good to hide how you truly feel.

Ruki: What...?

Yui: You’re the one who said I should learn to be confident and walk with pride...Yet you’re hiding your feelings too.

Ruki: ...That’s not true. Iーー

Karlheinz: Hold it, Ruki.

I agree with her.

You are absolutely correct, Eve. I shall express my remorse.

My bad.

Yui: ...

Selection

→ Me too... (☾)

Yui: I’m sorry too. I really ran my mouth...

But...Having you think of my special someone that way makes me sad, I don’t like it...

Especially since I know how important you are to Ruki-kun...

Ruki: ...

Karlheinz: Right. ...Ruki, I’m sorry.

Ruki: No...

→ Please apologize to Ruki-kun

Yui: Please apologize to Ruki-kun instead of to me.

Karlheinz: I see. That is valid too.

Ruki, I’m sorry.

Ruki: N-No...

Ruki: ...Heh.

I never thought you’d get the person who is basically what you would consider this world’s God to bow his head to you. You truly are...

Yui: I-I know I said some rude things! But...!

Ruki: I’m not criticizing you. ...I just thought I could never match you.

No matter how ordinary, foolish or shallow-minded of a woman you may be...You really are Eve after all.

Yui: ( Ruki-kun... )

Ruki: ...Karlheinz-sama. Can I say something?

Karlheinz: Yes, I do not mind.

Ruki: I...am standing here right now because of you.

My loyalty I vowed to you back then...Has not changed one bit to this day.

Therefore, I tried my very hardest to become Adam. To fulfill your wish.

...However, it seems like I am uncapable of becoming Adam after all.

Eve is...This is who she is.

While I would not call her perfect in every sense, she is still too good for me. ...Not suitable for a faulty Vampire such as myself...

My sincere apologies for failing to meet your expectations, even though I was willing to give it my everything.

Karlheinz: Then, Ruki, will you ーー give up on her?

Ruki: ...She should not belong to a person who is unable of becoming Adam.

Karlheinz: You are simply stating the truth. I want to know how you truly feel.

I said I agreed with Eve when she claimed you are hiding your feelings, did I not?

I am sure Eve wants to hear them too. ...Right?

Yui: ...Yes.

Ruki-kun...I want to know how you feel too.

Unrelated to this whole Adam and Eve thing, your raw feelings.

Ruki: ...But.

Karlheinz: Ruki. You should be more free.

You are a capable guy. You did a fine job heeding my words, and did everything within your power to fulfill my wish.

And up till now, you’ve always suppressed your ego and your own desires...

I am aware that you have put in the effort to be a proud Vampire, living your life according to my ideals.

However...Have you realized that this has made you blind to what is actually most important?

Ruki: ...

Karlheinz: ...Ruki. How important is Eve to you?

Is the lady standing next to you right now...Not worth it to toss away those ideals and values for?

Ruki: ...Karlheinz-sama.

Karlheinz: I do not know how you feel about it, but my answer is simple, Ruki.

Ruki: I...

*Ding ding*

Karlheinz: Oh dear. It’s time already.

Eve...No, I suppose I shall call you Queen of the Carnival right now. You are the star of tonight. Go ahead and head to the venue.

The purpose of this Carnival is to celebrate the birth of Adam and Eve. In short, it’s a banquet held for your sake.

Originally, Adam would have been celebrated alongside you as King of the Carnival, however...

Ruki: ...

Karlheinz: I suppose it is fine. I am not that cruel to pick a fruit which has only just begun to ripen.

However...The people are waiting for you to become Adam, Ruki.

Those waiting are...The people who have seen you with Eve throughout today.

Why don’t you try doing the same, and believe in the things they saw with their very own eyes?

Well then Eve, until we meet again.

ー Karlheinz leaves

Yui: ( ...So that’s Karlheinz-san. He’s quite the mysterious person... )

Ruki: ...

Yui: ( ...Ruki-kun couldn’t give him an answer. )

( I wonder what’s on his mind right now? No matter how much time we spend together, I can’t tell unless he directly tells me... )

Ruki: ...There’s a hall in the back.

Yui: Eh...?

Ruki: If there’s people waiting for us there, we can’t run away now, can we?

Yui: ( Does that mean...? )

...You’ll come with me too?

Ruki: I don’t mind staying here if you claim you have the courage to open that door all by yourself?

Yui: I-I can’t do it by myself!

I want to be with you. It has to be you, nobody else.

Ruki: ...

I...still can’t believe that I can become Adam. Regardless of what others may tell me.

...Howeverーー

I suppose it wouldn’t be bad to play the role of Adam just for that...At least that’s what I think.

Standing proudly by your side.

Yui: Ruki-kun...

If I am allowed to prioritize my own feelings...I will grab your hand first thing without hesitation.

Yui: ...Yeah, go ahead. I believe in those feelings of you too.

Ruki: Yes...Yui, your hand please?

*Rustle*

Ruki: ...Even if it’s just for today, will you be mine?

Yui: ...Yes.

Ruki: ...Even if this is nothing but a fleeting dream which will be over in the blink of an eye.

Right now...You are mine, Yui.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) In Japan, people tend to take baths in really hot water, so it is not uncommon for people to soak for too long and grow dizzy as a result of the heat + the steam surrounding the bath.

(2) In Japanese, the expression literally means ‘to cool down one’s liver’ and it’s used to imply that you give someone a scare.

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 3

→ PROCEED TO FINALE ENDING

→ PROCEED TO NORMAL ENDING

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #vcrukichapter4

62 notes · View notes

theshireisburning-so-mordoritis · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas Baby

Day 10 of the 12 Days of Christmas songs series

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: 18+. Teasing. Female masturbation. Vaginal fingering. Oral - fem recieving. Orgasm denial. Roughish sex. Unprotected PIV.

A/N: So I maybe shouldn't of watched Bloodsucking Bastards before writing this because I ended up thirsty af for Max - oh well 🤷‍♀️

Taglist: @briefgalaxycat , @heythere-mel

You weren't really sure what to expect when it came to Christmas with Max Phillips but the man spoils you rotten. Not only is there more presents crammed under the tree than you can count but he surprises you with a gift each day from the beginning of December until the big day.

"I need more than just one day to spoil my girl the way she deserves." He purrs when you blushingly tell him after the first few days that it's too much. You're quite content with just a few gifts on the actual day but Max refuses to hear it and every morning you wake to a new gift beside you on his empty pillow after he's gone to work.

When you wake on Christmas eve, eyes fluttering open slowly as they adjust to the winter sun filtering through the window, you're slightly confused. There's no gift on your pillow, which doesn't bother you, but there's also no Max.

Jeez you know as a vamp he doesn't get tired but does the guy never take a break? You have the day off and you were hoping to be wrapped up in bed with him until at least noon before spending the rest of the day baking cookies whilst Max uses every trick he knows to distract you.

You frown when your toes graze something solid as you try and kick away the covers, sitting up to look at the bottom of bed suspiciously and roll your eyes lightly when you spot the gift wrapped box by your feet. Pulling it up onto your lap you quickly tear the wrapping and suck in a harsh breath when you see the intricate logo embellished on the black box. This latest present isn't for you in a sense, it's for him to enjoy on you.

The asshole has bought you lingerie, knowing full well what it does to you when he buys you these kind of gifts. Imagining him painstakingly choosing the perfect set to rip off you, teasing himself as he pictures you lay out for him in each one he picks up, makes you feral for him and your core pulses when you imagine the ravenous look in his eyes when you eventually wear this one for him.

Your hands shake as you open the box and pull away the soft tissue paper wrapping, heart skipping a beat when the deep crimson satin and lace is revealed. You nearly moan, everytime you've worn Max's favourite colour he's lost control and ravaged you before you can even make it to the bedroom.

Heat pools low in your belly and you fidget on the bed, mourning the fact he's not here when you need him so badly and that's when you realise. He's teasing you. He wants you desperate and begging for him to wreck you in his gift.

Pushing the box from your lap with a huff you drag yourself to the bathroom to get showered so you can start your day, cursing your vampire boyfriend for the tingling ache between your thighs.

When you return to your room, clasping a towel tightly around your body, you notice the little light on your phone blinking. The screen lights up when you grab it, revealing a message from Max.

How's the gift sweet cheeks? Hope I guessed the right size ;)

That bastard. He knows fine well the size is perfect, Max never fucked around when it came to buying you underwear. You growl as you imagine him leaning back in his chair in his office, smug smirk plastered across his irritatingly perfect face whilst he pictures you here, alone and frustrated. Well two can play at that game.

You let the towel drop to the floor and remove the lingerie from the box, slipping the set on and admiring the way it flatters you perfectly in the mirror. Max may be a cheeky little shit but you'll admit he's got one hell of an eye for what looks good on you. Probably helps that his eyes are never off you, always trailing over your body hungrily the second you're close by.

You stroke your hands across the exquisite fabric at your breasts and grin wickedly at your reflection. It's easy to see why Max loves this colour so much, you feel powerful and seductive.

Reaching for your phone you snap a quick photo, nothing too revealing but it's enough. The picture shows your neck bared to him as you tilt your head back, a satiny strap delicately curving over your shoulder and the swell of your breast framed by a peak of lace. You refuse to give him the whole show, knowing the tiny peak will leave him needing more.

You send the picture, smiling cheekily to yourself as you type.

See for yourself

Only seconds pass before your phone is ringing and Max's name blares across the screen. You let it ring for a moment or two, smirking as you imagine the impatient glare of his eyes when you finally accept the call.

"Hello?" You feign innocence.

"How am I supposed to be able to tell if your gift fits from that photo sweetheart?" His cocky voice drawls through the speaker but you don't miss the way it's deeper than usual. He's worked up already and you fully intend on making him suffer.

"Oh it fits perfectly Max and it feels so nice, all soft and silky against my skin. And the red looks simply…" You lick your lips before whispering. "...delicious."

He groans low in this throat and you hear shuffling, smirking wider as you realise he's having to adjust himself.

"Fuck, baby." He mutters.

You continue to tease him, lying down on the bed and you know he can hear every move you make.

"It's a shame you weren't here when I woke up Max, I had plans for us that this lingerie would have been perfect for." You sigh dramatically, fighting a grin when you hear a gruff curse.

"I'll be back in a few hours sweetheart, just got a few things to finish up before Christmas." He croaks. All hints of cockiness gone from his voice and you know he's close to losing it.

That he just needs the right push.

You trail your free hand gently down your stomach before ghosting your fingers over your underwear, wondering if his hearing is good enough to pick up on the soft movements. Probably.

Max practically freezes on the other end, your gasps sending blood rushing straight to his cock and he doesn't realise his other hand has gripped his desk until the wood splinters beneath his fingers.

"I know honey it's okay, you've been treating me so nice I can't wait to return the favour." You croon, tone understanding before it drips sinful. "But I guess I'll just have to start without you."

Your fingers delve beneath your underwear to stroke your clit and you gasp into the phone.

Your breath stutters when his voice snaps harshly through the phone.

He can hear the wetness gathering on your fingers as you touch yourself and your teasing moans have him desperate to sink into you as deep as he can, make you scream his name as he pounds your slick, hot cunt.

He's going to fucking wreck you.

"Don't fucking move and don't you dare cum, you hear me sweetheart. I'm on my way." He growls and the call goes dead.

You blink at the phone in your hand in surprise. You didn't think he'd just up and leave work.

You don't have to wait long.

There's heat blazing in your gut, sending sparks across your skin as you grin. You rise from bed and grab one of his shirts to cover yourself as you pad around the apartment, desperately trying to distract yourself from the stickiness between your legs until Max gets home.

"I thought I told you not to move sweetheart and why have you covered up?"

The door almost flies of it's hinges as he throws it open and you worry he'll break the damn thing when he kicks it back shut before stalking towards you.

Every inch of him screams predator as his eyes rake over you, smug smirk on his lips as he notices you're wearing his shirt before his face shifts to something more feral.

You swallow thickly, heat licking up your spine as his fingers grasp your jaw, tilting your head to look up at him.

"I thought you'd enjoy unwrapping your present." You whisper, eyes watching him from beneath your lashes as he grins widely.

He leans down ever so slowly, lips ghosting over yours and you don't miss the way his eyes flash yellow for a moment.

"Babygirl I'm going to tear all of this from your pretty body and then I'm going to fucking ruin you."

He lets out a low whistle, winking as he mutters something about looking 'good enough to eat' before his arms reach around you and he grabs two handfuls of your ass to haul you flush against him. Max lifts you like you weigh nothing and vamp speeds into the bedroom where he throws you on the bed before shedding his jacket, waistcoat and tie and crawling onto the bed to slide up your body.

A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it and suddenly Max is on you.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails sinking into the expensive fabric of his suit as he crashes his lips against yours. His large hands stroke down your sides before fisting into the shirt and tearing it from your body, wrenching his mouth from yours so he can drink you in as you stand before him in the crimson ensemble.

He kisses and nips at every inch of you until you're writhing beneath him, lust blown eyes darting to yours when he mouths over your covered core and you whine needily for him. Max's grin is wicked when he slowly peels your panties from you dripping center and drags them down your legs, flinging them over his shoulder as his eyes feast upon you spread for him.

"Look how drenched you are for baby, can't wait to taste you." He smirks as you nod frantically.

You grip his hair when he ducks down and sucks your clit between his teeth, gently nibbling and flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue as you arch off the bed with a silent gasp. His responding groan vibrates through you, making you mewl and rock your hips into his mouth.

He gives your clit another hard suck and teases your entrance before slipping two fingers into your wet heat. Your breath comes in sharp bursts and pants as he moves his fingers inside you, finding that perfect spot with every curling motion as he laps at you greedily.

It's almost embarassing how quickly you feel yourself hurtling close to the edge and from the way you can feel Max's proud smirk against you, you know he's fully aware of just how close you are. Pleasure begins to spark along your spine and your toes are starting to curl when suddenly he pulls away from you and leaves you fluttering around nothing.

You whine as your approaching orgasm fades away and you're about to sit up and bitch at him when he grabs both your hands and pins you to the mattress.

"Ah ah honey, you wanted to be a brat and tease me, now it's my turn. Only thing that pretty little cunt of yours will be cumming on is my cock."

Max's eyes are almost glowing when you nod desperately and buck your hips up into his, moaning when his hard length brushes against you. It takes him no time at all to pull back and rid himself of his clothes and you of your bra before he's back on you again.

He presses a searing kiss to your lips as he lines himself up against your entrance and with one smooth thrust he fills you up completely, bottoming out as you both groan into each other's mouths. He doesn't give you a chance to adjust, setting a brutal pace that has you arching into his chest with a wail as each drag of his cock sends shockwaves of pleasure fizzing through your cunt.

His control is hanging by a thread as he fucks himself into you, holding back just enough to make sure he isn't hurting you as he bites and sucks kisses wherever he can, marking you up whilst you moan with abandon beneath him.

"Oh god Max - fuck right there - please."

He rises to his knees and hooks your legs over your shoulders, sliding in deeper and throwing his head back with a growl as you clench around him from the way his cock hits just the right place inside you. He can feel you getting close again, your body is beginning to tremble and your cunt flutters around him wildly.

He briefly considers denying you again but you feel too fucking good, your wet heat and the sounds of his skin slapping agaisnt yours has consumed his senses but once you start begging for him that's when he's truly lost.

He groans darkly, hips moving faster and fingers slipping from your thigh to your cunt as he presses quick circles to your clit.

"You know I can't say no when you beg for me like that - fuck baby - come for me." He demands and you scream as you shatter around him. Tidal waves of pleasure obliterating your body as you gasp and convulse, the force of your orgasm dragging Max into his as he roars and throbs inside you.

When the last of the aftershocks leave you both spent he gently lowers your legs and collapses against you, chuckling when your breath leaves you in a whoosh. His eyes are back to their soft, warm brown as he props his chin on your chest and grins at you whilst you card a hand through his hair.

"I take it you liked the look of the lingerie then?" You quip at him with a laugh and he grins even wider as he watches you, eyes sparkling with amusment and adoration.

"You looked perfect as always." He smirks then for a moment he seems to hesitate before steeling himself. "But I know something that would make it better."

Looking at him curiously, you notice the slight tension in his shoulders but don't mention it, instead choosing to joke.

"Better than perfect? Well consider me intrigued!" You laugh and his lips twitch into a nervous smile as he gets up and rumages through one of his drawers before making his way back to you and placing a small bag on your lap.

"This was supposed to be for tomorrow but I don't think I can wait any longer." He says quietly.

You look at the gift and then back to him with a small frown but he simply nods for you to open it. Fingers shakily untying the small bag, you gasp lightly when you dip your hand inside and your fingers brush a small velvet box.

You glance up at Max as you pull it out and you think this is the most unsure of himself you've ever seen him and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

"Max?" You whisper, staring between him and the box whilst tears cloud your eyes. You're not an idiot, if it was normal jewellery in the box he wouldn't look so afraid, which could only mean one thing.

He clears his throat and looks at you, eyes brimming with emotion that cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

"I know it's hardly romantic doing this after we've just had sex but I'm just looking at you now and you're so perfect, I love you so much and every day I've had to wait has felt like a lifetime." He murmurs and you sniffle lightly. " Please open it."

You can't refuse his whispered plea and no part of you wants to. Gently opening the box, a sob escapes your lips when you see the ring. A beautiful diamond lays nestled between a small cluster of rubies on a silver band.

"A symbol of the light you brought into my life when there was only bloodshed." Max tells you and the tears slip freely down your cheeks as you clutch the box to your chest and he moves closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"I want you for the rest of your life or for eternity if you choose to eventually turn. I want to do this with you for as long as I can. Spoiling you, laughing with you, fucking you, loving you. I want it all. Will you make me the happiest man alive -well not really alive but you get the gist- and marry me?" He says with a small, hopeful grin and you launch yourself at him, smothering him with kisses as you chant yes against his lips.

Max's responding grin is blinding as he crashes his mouth to yours before taking the ring from the box and slipping it on your finger, kissing it and each of your knuckles as you gaze at him giddily.

"I love you Max Phillips, you are the best present ever" You whisper, cupping his cheek with your ring hand and pulling him into a slow, heady kiss, smirking when he pulls your flush against his body and winks at you.

"Love you for all eternity sweetcheeks… Merry Christmas baby."

#max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #12 days of christmas songs

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exactlyenoughglitter · 3 years

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rules of service

AO3 Pairings: Avallac’h/Eredin/Lara Warnings: non-con, NSFW, orgy, pegging, bondage, dead dove: do not eat Summary: Lara does not take Eredin's sneering implications, suspicions, and innuendos about herself and “her place” very well. Elves are proud, vengeful creatures. Disclaimer: An experiment for exploring the darker impulses of Avallac'h & Lara, which I think they might have in some capacity due to the very simple, insane fact that they were supposed to become parents to an elven Saviour with control over all Space & Time. It's a further experiment in exploring power and the dynamics of these three characters in a three-way pairing, which I, personally, do not consider very likely in any nice capacity.

The daughter of Shiadhal receives her guest standing in the middle of a rosette mosaic, underneath a chandelier dripping with riddling light refracting through heliotrope crystals. Tiny shadows dance on her low-cut anthracite dress, slit at the side, and in her long hair of white gold gleam mint alabaster gems set in filigree; the hairpiece cascades down the side of the woman’s head in a display of unparalleled artistry.

As it should.

For Lara is the most treasured apple of Alder Wood.

‘Your grace.’

‘Captain.’

Poplars sway gently in the evening wind. The tall windows make this open drawing room almost like the winter gardens of the upper palaces of Tir ná Lia. It is half-a-day’s ride from the capital to the chateau and the valley-grounds Lara favours.

‘Thank you for coming.’

He nods. ‘It would be the height of discourtesy of me to refuse a summons from your illustrious person.’

Emerald eyes shine on him coolly, with faint curiosity. It is that ruminative glint that so mocks its recipients, hinting at the possibility of care in the distant amusement of the one who was born forever a better to everybody and second to none. He knows that look well. It’s all he has ever received, all, they believe, a knight should be content with.

Delicate fingers of a spell-caster trail along a marble balustrade which divides the decorous space in two, until they reach crystal glasses and a pitcher under the roses.

‘Do you feel hungry?’ she asks. ‘Thirsty?’

‘Neither, your grace.’

‘But you are a man of great appetite, are you not?’

By way of an answer, Eredin offers half a smile. The spotless glasses and the pitcher have been prepared, but the elf does not sense the presence of either servants or handmaidens. It would appear their meeting is a private one; he wonders about that.

‘Well? Aren’t you curious?’

‘Nobody has ever called me incurious.’

‘To your face, maybe.’

‘Maybe,’ he crosses his hands behind his back. ‘Does your grace usually concern yourself with the barking of dogs?’

Lara gives a small laugh, which is beautifully hollow.

‘Could we drop this, do you think? This artificial politeness. This prancing.’

She approaches slowly, the anthracite fabric of her dress shifting with the sway of her hips. Eredin looks openly, for there is no point in complimenting the most beautiful woman in the world unless the compliment can say something beyond itself.

‘Behind closed doors,’ the daughter of the Alders speaks, ‘I have always been “that witch” to you and you, in turn, have always been one of my father’s beloved dogs to me. Well, when I say beloved.’ A burst of light blue butterflies erupts from a bowl drowning in greenery at one end of the balustrade. ‘I think we can speak freely, don’t you?’

‘By all means,’ he sneers. ‘Let us speak freely. If it is your freethinking ideals you wish to discuss –’

‘No, I do not wish to discuss! Not like this, not today, and not with you.’

He inclines her head at her. Unlike her mother, Lara is not an imposing woman. She is an ineluctable one.

Standing close, her eyes absorb the lines of his face. ‘We have never been friends, you and I.’

‘Have we not? Astonishing.’

But Lara changes tact, and this indeed does astonish the Sparrowhawk. An elegant pale hand lays down on top of the amaranth-vermillion cloak wrapped around the dark-haired elf’s strong shoulders. Eredin looks. The priceless jewels on Lara’s priceless fingers shimmer.

‘No. We have never been friends,’ she murmurs, letting her palm slide over the large silver brooch. ‘Even so, I am not my mother, Eredin. I wish to know what you think. As you said, perhaps there is something you can say – offer me – that no one else can. Perhaps I even wish we could be... friends?’

The heavy cloak, bearing the fresh smells of the journey, falls to the floor at the elf lord’s feet as the Gull departs as lightly as she had arrived, in a soft swish of a dress from which flashes the toned line of her leg.

‘I like curious men,’ she throws over her shoulder. ‘Are you one who is curious for its own sake, or one who is curious only to experience the satisfaction of satiation?’

‘Latter, I’m afraid,’ he trails her closely with his eyes. ‘Chasing the wind does not interest me in the slightest.’

‘Is that so? You never imagine what could be?’ a hint of something plays on her lips and she shows it to him. ‘Do you lack the imagination, or the means?’

Poplars rustle outside, along the whitewashed avenue and somewhere beyond, fountain water falls. Lara sighs.

‘I am not entirely sure I believe you.’

The secret something in her demeanour does not disappear as he approaches. It holds firm, even once they stand face to face by the marble balustrade under the brilliant chandelier. Jewellery in Lara’s hair crinkles like the spring melt as she looks on him, brazenly, and he feels his blood stirring.

‘Why did you summon me?’ he asks. ‘What is it exactly,’ he glances down the lean line of her neck, ‘that the princess of the Alder Folk requires of me?’

‘Understanding,’ she replies simply. ‘Of where we stand.’

A thin, unassuming string of gold winds around her neck, leading his eyes, while she trails her fingers along the petals of a rose, not letting her guest out of her line of sight for a second. The Gull’s eyes, Eredin has to admit, can put a spell on you. So he looks elsewhere instead.

‘I have been thinking a lot about our little dance lately,’ she says. ‘About your concern for me.’

‘Have you now?’

‘I have,’ her gaze falls briefly on his lips. ‘Or do you think I lack appetite?’

Her lips part, her eyes narrow. He takes another step. Her dress brushes his knees.

‘I am at your service.’

‘Then serve me.’

He catches her wrist on its way up.

Lara does not flinch, though a shadow darts behind her eyes. It pleases him. Perfume of iris and white musk mingles with the smell of wild roses, which Eredin loves. And that pleases him too.

Slowly, at his chosen pace, he moves the delicate hand of the Gull down. Slowly, along the curve of a narrow waist and round hips. To the slit of the dress.

Their eyes meet – green that is everything in green that is not – in that cool disdainful way before people make friends. He knows a little more still: that this is the look of all women who do not want to ask. Who do not have to ask – ever!

Eredin plunges their joined hands underneath the dress between Lara’s thighs. Neither of them so much as blinks. And then – after silk parts and she parts – then he raises her hand to his lips.

‘Wet.’ He tastes her. ‘Like any woman.’

He cannot proceed entirely how he would like though; despite seeing burgeoning fury and desire breaking the cool indifference in that lovely face. Lara makes his knees go weak – literally. With those nimble spell-caster’s fingers. Fingers that the elf believes would look elegant around his cock.

‘On your knees.’ She wipes her fingers in his hair. ‘Like any man.’ And sits on the balustrade.

Eredin does not respond any more.

His experienced hands clutch the front of the anthracite dress on which light and shadows twirl in fey regalia. Silver hooks clatter weakly against marble alongside pearl-trimmed panties and a tense gasp joins the rustle of poplars in the fragrant summer eve. Grasping Lara by the sides and tugging her against his waiting mouth, he smiles; the panties were probably a gift from Crevan.

Crevan, who does not know you as well as he thinks after all.

The weakness in his knees proves surprisingly persistent but easy to ignore.

It is easy when a firm thigh trembles on his shoulder, pushing the crowning jewel of the Alders further under her “dog.” When it is his lips that nudge apart the slick petals of her, him who smothers the trembling of her core around her swollen clit, him who presses it back and forth and drags his tongue all along that very special, very warm and wet cunt. Which in the end is just another cunt – to be sated.

It is easy.

The spells of Auberon’s little girl will crumble and she will rock against him in her insatiable hunger, and then he will put her face down on the floor, where people kiss her feet, and fuck her until she is heaving full of his seed.

‘I wonder,’ he murmurs, inhaling her, ‘if your fated can imagine you like this?’

‘Oh, Eredin!’

Lara’s fingers pull at his hair as she moans. He looks what has become of those iridescent pools of green that would mock him so, releasing her with a bite and a pop.

She smiles gently, her eyes far away.

‘He knows.’

The collar snaps into place.

---//---

Wisps of lazuline smoke rise under open lattice-work ceilings and skies that are paling pink. The humid nocturnal air is erupting in chirps, chits, trills, and the distinct whirring of dusky starfrontlets who dart from flower to flower in the hanging gardens. Lara follows them with her eyes, breathing palisander and fading notes of ozone, and feels fingers playing in her hair, scattered like aurous rain on huge, plush pillows.

She squeezes her eyes shut, holds her breath. The fingers stop, wondering. Then resume in a tip-tap between her shoulder blades.

Tip-tap. Tip-tap-tip. Tap –

Lara laughs into the pillow and shoves at the warm chest hovering over her, and Crevan’s smell washes over her as he falls into the pillows. He is showing her funny images.

‘Sleep, I beg you.’

‘No.’

‘You are cruel!’

She rises on her forearms, tossing her head back and stretching, and meets the witch-lines on his body along which she has walked and left her marks, lines which lead her to the male’s triangular face in which bright eyes, as intensely awake as hers, shine at her.

‘Cruel, do you understand?’

He smiles, softly. ‘I will put the sun in you.’

Sometimes Lara tries to imagine how it would be like to hear Crevan’s words as a lesser woman to whom words are just words, not spells. To whom their lover’s desire is solely a matter of acceptance and fleshly pleasure and not... sacral rapture. Or are they somehow the same – them and her?

‘Everyone is expecting... to have you, Lara... any man would... golden children you will give... waiting with bated breath... love is very dear... “cosmic significance”... satisfying your grace... do you know your place?’

She feels herself sinking deeper into the softness around them with the male’s hips pressing against her rear, lips lulling, appeasing over the scruff of her neck as the growing girth of him is sliding languidly back and forth between her thighs. And in return, on a mean whim stoked by the memory, she does something slightly rash. Slightly... impolite.

Because in the next moment the elf’s hands squeeze her painfully and then he is gone, and the ringing of wind chimes startles away the hummingbirds and spangled cotingas, and already Lara turns after him before her Fox can sulk, though knowing he will have an explanation from her as only the first of several repayments. But frankly, Lara can no longer bring herself to care about how below her this is supposed to be – everything is anyway – and so, she simply tells Crevan – about what their “friend” allows himself in her presence...

‘It is different between you, but I do not believe you have not noticed how he is,’ she says at last. ‘The way he speaks. To me? As if I owe him anything.’

Bare feet tap on tiles of black onyx with mother of pearl inserts and diamonds. Lara finds an abandoned glass of spiked ambrosia inside a feather crown and picks up the long pale-spotted lynx fur. Perhaps as a result of the delights of their night she feels everything more intensely, including the vengeful impulse overcoming her now. Perhaps it is simply what Lara is really like – with the ethereal strappings stripped away. The promised daughter and mother of blessed blood; an elven maid – not to be slighted.

‘Just imagine,’ she leans over the mahogany table toward him, rich fur softening the impact. ‘If the golden vessel that will feed our people with endless opportunities were nothing but a mindless, manageable, pretty trinket that would fit on your hip. Sentience is so troublesome, after all.’

‘Absurd.’

‘Is it? Is the state of my womb not a matter of the vox populi? A Daughter of Dana belongs to her people. Perhaps it has even given our captain the impression I should also belong to him?’

‘You belong to me.’

A strange thrill sparks in her and she catches his eyes.

‘This? This is,’ he twiddles his long fingers in the air, ‘little piggies’ blither. They are hungry and impatient and make a lot of noise, and this annoys my beautiful Lara. I do not like it.’

How his expression has changed, from concern and indignation in the beginning to something stronger. She realises then that Crevan’s anger is indeed a slowly burning thing, sly fury under turf, that once aroused can burn until the world is ancient.

She wonders if she can push this...

‘I don’t know, Crevan, sometimes I think you are more alike than it seems.’

The elf lord rolls his eyes, letting his head drop back. It should concern her but for some reason, right now, his ire excites Lara – very much.

‘Why do we allow him so much?’ she draws nearer to where he sits in sable furs under tall open glass doors. ‘Eredin –’

‘– is nothing,’ he intones. ‘Without us.’

‘You think?’ She steps between her Fox’s legs. ‘Sometimes it seems to me he fancies himself the prime stallion. A unicorn?’ And dangles the end of the fur seductively along the male’s thigh. ‘Are you certain?’

Crevan’s lip curls mockingly. Lara slides hers along the edge of a glass flute, looking and swaying, long hair tickling the small of her back, as the wizard contemplates her naked form, his beautiful brow drawn together in a scowl. She sits down on his thigh and his hand circles her waist, stroking the lynx guarding her nudity. Aromatic wisps of smoke bend around them on their way out. She leans into the kiss.

‘The best of me,’ she murmurs, ‘belongs to you. Always.’

‘Then why are you telling me about a rude horselord, instead of lounging about my neck?’

His tongue flicks over her lips before he takes hold of her with both arms, moves her into his place, and stands.

‘Where are you going?’

He gives her half a look, a lively low fire yawning in it, and reaches for a gown as the paintings along his back stalk in dawn’s twilight. Lara reaches for his wrist.

‘Wait!’

The night air hums. He looks inquisitively, letting her stroke his hand along the serpents. The sorceress’s eyes narrow as a thought occurs to her.

‘I have a better idea.’

‘Ah?’

‘Yes.’ She smiles up at him, her sun-blessed fox, with a smile that makes Crevan hers. Soft fur brushes her mouth. ‘But first, my heart, you will have to promise me –’

---//---

Lara’s head is reeling.

Attempting in vain to control the flushing of her neck, she watches how Crevan tugs her mother’s favourite about like a scary marionette on invisible strings. For a moment both men had resembled their namesakes to her – struggling with tooth and claw – until magic had brought brute force under its control. Magic from which such brute force derives.

In fascination she watches how powerful arms belonging to a lifelong warrior stretch out like the wings of a giant bird and are nailed down in fey bondage at a soft whisper from the sorcerer’s lips. It reminds her of how Crevan whispers to his birds. To me. The spasmodic twitching in their captive’s limbs is made that much more enchanting by the visible violence trembling in the veiled chains, which still succeeds in sending one of the stone planters on its plinth shaking.

‘Give in to me.’

They stand chest to back, light and dark. Alabaster skin under the spell-sown collar is reddening dangerously quickly.

‘Or you can garrotte yourself.’

At last, the Sparrowhawk goes still.

Quiet.

Water runs merrily in the in-door fountains, magic hums in the air. Lara guesses chit-chat might be coming hard to Eredin at present. Only the leer of his burning greens persists on her. Not that it matters, because his looks will shortly follow the floor on which he had imagined taking the most precious daughter of the Alders like a common whore.

Adjusting her partly ruined dress in a makeshift arrangement, Lara looks with no small amount of pleasure at how that hard-line of a back bends over the marble balustrade under duress from the Power, like a birch rod. Something in her envies her betrothed this fun, for this simple spell gives the sensation of bending blue steel with one’s fingers. She realises she can still feel the steel of those palms on her hips as she looks how Crevan’s hand runs up the back of Eredin’s neck and across his scalp, gathering pitch black hair and pulling it carefully away from the elf’s face above the velvet-lined collar; until he can curl the dark waterfall around his fist and yanks.

‘Look, my love!’ he gazes at her fondly. ‘I have a new mount for you!’

Lara’s eyebrows rise, she hides her excitement behind crystal. The sorcerer’s aquamarines, despite adoring her, are also colder than in the dead of winter. We agreed! Her Fox is not malicious by nature just... playful. Sometimes so in evil spirits, though.

‘Shall I break him in for you?’ he smiles.

The plinth shakes again dangerously, a few light blue butterflies emerging from the flora, and an ugly wheezing sound arises out of Eredin’s throat.

Lara nods. ‘Please.’

Her eyes fall on the collar.

‘Do you think you could –?’

He sucks in air like a drowning man.

‘You fucking witch!’

Oh, his voice is raw! Mangled from the burn that scathes tissue with electrifying heat, as if skin was nothing more but thin layers on a cabbage. White pin points dance at the edges of his vision and he feels the Sage’s annoying fingers flick against the side of his face.

Lara frowns. ‘I only allowed you to breathe, spared your voice. Gratitude really means too little to you.’

‘Oh princess, pretty princess,’ he hawks, intensely furious, ‘you do not fight fair, your grace.’

‘Would you?’ she sips at a drink. ‘I thought novelty thrilled you.’

‘Did you not say you wished for a friend in me?’

‘We will be friends – afterward.’

He laughs; somehow. It does not sound pretty.

‘I have annoyed you deeply then,’ Eredin grins, still tasting the woman on his lips. ‘Is fair Lara so irate with me perhaps for implying true things which even she has not become aware of yet? But such is truth – annoying. Simple, sometimes, and annoying. More so still to the Wise.’

Emerald eyes flash. ‘Truth?’

He knows he guesses correctly – about how traitorous are Auberon’s daughter’s thoughts about her purpose that allows her everything. How she does not think twice about opportunities to go slumming with the wretched, when all she really has the duty to do is to let herself be loved until her belly grows. The hair on Eredin’s neck rises at the touch of a small blade. A quick tickling line shoots down the length of his spine and expensive fabric slides down the sides of his ribcage.

‘The truth, Eredin, is that you and we are not equal, nor will we ever be,’ she says. ‘You speak to me on behalf of our people, “us”, yet you only look after your own, while we look after everybody. We look after you too, don’t forget. I am “us”, Eredin. Me.’

He feels Crevan’s hand tugging at his hair, baring his throat, while another wanders contemplatively along the shape of his back. It slides around him, feeling up his abdominal muscles and a tingling, voiding sensation suddenly moves through his intestines. Lara’s precious eyes, which oust the hoarfrost from in-between the stars, do not meet his gaze.

‘You are curious about things which do not really concern you.’ They pass him over for another, and a blush spreads along the graceful neck before she turns away altogether. ‘You allow yourself too much.’

Something cold and vaguely heavy trickles onto the small of the elf’s back, followed by the magician’s palm. He twitches. The hand rubs methodically along the flexor muscles of his lower back, before yanking at his breeches.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Why Eredin,’ Crevan responds lowly. ‘You are the breaker of horses; you will work it out.’

Instinctively, he attempts to crane his neck, defend himself, and is crushed by aches when tearing against his tethers. His black hair falls back around his face, as fury splashes ineffectually in him like acid, finding no proper outlet.

‘How pleased you must feel,’ he sneers, trying to think, ‘with your little trap.’

‘Mine?’ oiled fingers circle slowly, and penetrate resistant flesh. ‘I am doing my dear heart’s bidding, nothing more. Please stop trying to tamper with your bonds. I am angry with you and not in the mood to do all this tidying. Understand that I will immobilize you utterly regardless of Lara’s wishes if you insist on misbehaving.’

‘Indeed I would expect nothing more from you.’

The blonde snorts. ‘This is hardly for my sake, but hers.’

‘What do you mean?’

The Sage shoves his legs apart.

‘You will pay for this, Crevan.’

‘You are mistaken,’ the Sage replies as another slender finger enters him, scissoring, stretching, while its brothers continue to massage his perineum. ‘This is not a transaction between you and me. For starters, Lara believes you deserve a lesson, not punishment. I disagree. Presumptions such as yours should be rooted out with iron and salt, even if they are but the by-product of the blessings you have received from my caste. Then again, giving a disloyal subject a taste of what they want can sometimes do the trick just as effectively.’

‘What a vixen you are making out of our Gull, Crevan.’

‘I am loathe to refuse my darling. Perhaps if you learned not to run your mouth about our games, none of which should burden her... but then again, I appreciate seeing your hand every once in a while. You see, between you and me, I know whose enjoyment should come first. Hers, not mine. Oh to be an instrument serving only noblest of purposes. Alas!’ A contemptuous snort. ‘You will be staying overnight, of course.’

‘Serve?’ Eredin feels a grim, disturbed laughter rising in his tortured throat. ‘You, who helped create this woman to love you, would pretend in this to serve only her enjoyment, and out of humility? Principle? You are enjoying this vastly more than Lara.’

‘Well, I do enjoy it a little.’ The elf flinches against his will when the fingers inside him find the special spot and feel it up. ‘For instance, I understand her anger much better now, and as they say, common dislikes tend to bring people together perhaps even stronger than preferences. Should I thank you?’ The additional digits squeezed into him almost entirely undo the work of their predecessors, no longer aspiring to any pretences of kindness. ‘You are wrong, Eredin. I serve. Unlike you, my highest purpose is to serve life, not close life’s eyes. In return for which She opens Her bosom before me – willingly. Me.’

‘Perhaps you will be happy to learn then that this life you serve is not averse to spreading for whoever she whims.’

The collar around his neck squeezes like fiery pinchers.

‘Do not be envious.’

Hands warm from magic knead his buttocks, spreading him open, and he feels the press of a warm, blunt head. Shackled and immobile, he realises then that all he is allowed to do – all he has ever really been allowed – is to wait. Seizing him by the hair as he pushes forward, the light blankets the dark.

‘You will still have the honour of serving my children for all eternity.’

The brass frame of the tiny, sealed amber horn digs into her palm. Her eyes are closed, but she can hear them, and in her mind’s eye she sees. If she opens her eyes, she will see tall poplars swaying beside the avenue leading to the chateau, but she cannot open her eyes – his aquamarines on her do not let her; when she had failed to suppress enjoyment from Eredin’s lips against her. Now he is calling to her softly through the bond they share, and Lara’s heart beats faster. She feels wet. She feels exhilarated. She feels awful, and she likes it.

She opens her eyes and turns. They are both looking at her. Moving in rhythm like a white vessel over dark waves. Will whoever ends up in the middle be torn to pieces? Lara cocks her head and approaches.

The dark one, his curtain of black hair flowing back and forth like silk with each thrust, stares at her with naked contempt and hatred for once.

‘I did not know your grace enjoyed punishment this much,’ he bites through a line of small white teeth. ‘If I had known earlier –’

‘Up!’ the light one commands, and so it goes.

Lara feels her cheeks glow as she steps lightly and comes so close she can smell them, one familiar and the other not, and sees Crevan bottoming out in their captive, again and again and again, patiently as is his manner at Alder court. Run? The impulse she suppresses, but not the hot flushing desire that pools in her stomach and shoots to her head like a tiny icicle trail in a burning desert at the small smile on her intended’s lips – he can feel it too. All of it.

‘This is not punishment,’ she leans close to Eredin, touching his warm chest through which she feels the deep thrusts in rhythm with the elf’s powerful heartbeat, before moving on to Crevan’s magical fingers on the captain’s shoulder. ‘This is... play. Novelty!’

Black hair tangles in the enchanted collar, hot breath exuding from the magnificent elf’s half-open mouth above which cold green eyes tear at the elven maid’s face.

‘Are you uncomfortable?’

Lara leans her hip against the balustrade and looks, and Crevan indicates to his waist. She knows the details, of course, but truthfully, it is still new to her, and her breath catches in her throat when she touches her Fox right then. The roughness in his hips – he never treats her to this, whatever this is, ever, even when they get carried away with each other. Why it is maddening!

Summoning the vial and refilling it with magic, Lara watches with fascination how glistening oil the shade of marmalade pours into the cleft where he moves relentlessly, coating his shaft. He helps himself with his hand, never quite leaving the captain’s body. In her mind’s eye, Lara sees what he would prefer though: to have her fingers wrap around him, lathing him in lubricant, before he continues; a kiss...

Lara hooks her fingers in Eredin’s collar, shutting Crevan out, or this will simply not work out as they want.

She tests the collar lightly, changing pressure and listening, observing how his neck works. She wonders if Crevan would, on her... he is smiling at her openly now. No, better not to wonder. But the captain too is smiling! Mockingly, knowingly. And what does he know? Lara drops her bejewelled hand completely – to Eredin’s crotch. He is hard. His grunt falls pleasantly on her ears. She unlaces him and takes him in her hand.

‘Do you not like my whims, captain?’

She strokes along the girth of him, long, until she feels her fist rest at the base, and then hard – several times – as the collar tames the groan that Crevan pushes and she pulls from him. The little brass frame of the tiny amber horn in the palm of her other hand is beginning to hurt her.

‘You will pay for this,’ the warlord rasps, the muscles in his arms straining.

‘Why?’ she leans up closer, squeezing his hard flesh in rhythm to the slap of hips. Crevan swears. ‘You are our friend, Eredin. Our very... good... friend.’

Lara kisses the elf lord on the mouth, bruisingly, with the Sparrowhawk’s teeth drawing her precious blood and the tail of his elated grunt at being given something – anything – ending up on the Gull’s own tongue. She feels Crevan’s hand in her hair, pulling her in and pressing her against Eredin’s front, bringing them all together for a moment. The sorceress flicks the lid of the amber horn in her free hand. Fairy dust spreads into her palm.

And then, raised before the puckered full lips of the treasure of the Alders, Eredin sees the magic powder, which flies in his face with a puff of her sweet breath, settling like snowflakes on his eyelashes, in his eyes, on his tongue and in his nose; and he breathes in the rest from her fingers. And roars.

Lara feels him twitch in her hand.

‘Do you know what this is, captain?’ she asks, admiring his dust-sprinkled eyes.

‘This is pure!’

‘Of course it’s pure. Who do you think I am?’ Crevan growls, holding out his palm to Lara. ‘It will make an eagle out of a sparrow. I am curious, I have never had an eagle before.’

‘Plenty of sparrows,’ he chuckles. ‘At least your taste remains refined.’

‘As you were,’ the towering form of the captain jerks forward. ‘Enough, Lara my love, enough. You are smaller, not used to –’

‘And you are? Thank you, Crevan. I know.’

‘What delicate cornflowers both of you!’ Eredin licks the dust off his lips. ‘Is that really everything, your grace?’

‘Oh, Eredin!’ Crevan laughs, pushing his light hair back over his head and delivering several extremely unpleasant thrusts in a row, after which Lara simply has to abandon the captain for the time being. ‘Give him more. Give him! He doesn’t know anything, but he wants. Yes, my darling, let him have it, I want you to have an unforgettable ride.’

‘Your servants would be unable to get you anything better,’ Lara explains, feeling her blood rushing faster in her chest as vivid clarity takes her head, ‘because no matter where you look for the one thing you will always crave, you can only ever find it with us. We must not fight, us and you. Never!’

Power, power, power. It’s always power that he wants. There is no stronger aphrodisiac.

‘How well you know, Lara,’ Eredin’s tongue licks at her fingers, his eyes laughing at her. ‘How well this role suits you, our beautiful pacifist. Women – they always know better, don’t they, Crevan? As you can see, I cannot but bow before your wisdom. I, too, wish for peace, would you believe it?’

‘I know! It’s just the appetite, Eredin,’ her emeralds narrow evilly. ‘And you are mistaken if you think our appetites do not align. Do you want to know a secret? Do you want to know what Crevan tells me? In my little pointed ear, at night. He describes the sun to me in all its glory.’

The elven princess sits on the balustrade, next to her mother’s most talented light-douser’s half-bent form, and turns her eyes on the elf whom Dana made so he always carries the sun around his head.

‘How the sun burns with the life it gives. How big and bright and lethal it is. How it would scorch my wings if I flew too close, yet freeze me if I drifted too far. Like you fly on your Dragon – are they all Dragons, by the way? Never mind. I don’t really care.’

Lara likes how her Fox laughs, how giving he can be; they really don’t know him like she does.

‘He knows so many tricks, this lover of mine. That is why it can only be him, you understand, because I am more like you – a creature of the skies; just not as privileged to be selfish all the time,’ she caresses his bicep. ‘So anyhow, Crevan tells me – Eredin, are you listening? He tells me – because he knows I too have an appetite like you, and him, and Auberon, and all other nice elves – how he will one day slip the Sun into my hand when I am not looking. And then...’

The magician rests his hand on the other elf’s neck, pushing downward, looking at the daughter of the Alders as if he wanted to lay her down on their stallion’s sturdy back that very second, but Lara, who is smaller and cannot have as much of the fairy dust, suddenly feels the magical tethers trembling and quickly lends her partner a hand. Before, like him, losing herself – in those cool stars from faraway skies, from whence their race once emerged, which have made a home in his triangular face.

‘Then the sun in me will not burn,’ she whispers, ‘but will light up entire worlds. One after another. Sun and moon – mine and his. Do you know that song, Eredin?’

She leans over the captain’s shoulder claiming Crevan’s lips in passion as the strong body between them shudders and her Fox moans loudly, moving erratically for a while to the desirous growling of their dark and dashing captive squashed between two pieces of Alder Gold.

And then it is over and done with and Lara laughs, not even really knowing at what exactly, as she dances a few steps back with her ruined fey-woven dress of anthracite slipping a little. Before slipping back one more time in order to put her hands on this wild Sparrowhawk’s cutting cheekbones and kiss him too, because why not? They are all born under their own lucky stars.

By the stars, why not?

‘Sun and hail ‘til night becomes day, dawn and dusk hand-in-hand, he’ll whisk me stars for a song, a moon half its price; apple and sin – that’s how it’s done,’ she utters in a sing-song voice, pulling golden pins from hair of white gold which cascades over her shoulders.

‘Down the spiralling avenue of stars. Mine and his – this universe, and some other, less important paths.’ And Lara’s eyes flash like a deadly moulinette in your last moments. ‘Could you offer me that?’

More melodies appear in Lara’s head which she can taste and hum, as gold from her hair clatters on marble floors. Ruined? Maybe. So what? Fairy gold is made of dead leaves and dried dreams. The shiver begins at the back of her neck, spiralling all the way down and wrapping the elven princess in unruly delight.

She puts her arms around her to ground herself, her fingers disappearing into lush hair – to keep her quickened breath and pulse from becoming her character. World has a funny habit of appearing and disappearing when under the influence of dust. She jumps at the hasty touch on her waist.

Crevan takes her by the chin, drawing her against him and falls on her mouth greedily. His hands are slightly damp.

‘You are beautiful,’ the Sage breathes, his disarrayed hair tickling her cheeks. ‘Magnificent. Such sweet voice. My Lara.’ Her fingers tangle in the clasps of his imperial purple kaftan opened to mid-chest, desiring to run her hands over skin that tingles of their magic. ‘Say it.’

‘Yours!’ she pecks her Fox’s nose. ‘Yours, Crevan!’

‘That’s right.’ His hands move through the slit of her dress, fondling the curve of her thighs as he winds the straps around Lara’s waist. ‘Now it’s your turn, my love.’

He fastens the buckles with a harsh movement and Lara flinches, her green eyes drawing wide. They had agreed, but –

‘What is it?’ he inquires, insistently, the low fire in his dark pupils having gobbled up the bright irises, and takes her in his arms. ‘Lara? Lara, come back to me. He will not bolt. I promise you. Look, he is excited.’

So he is! Lara’s head falls slightly to one side. Oh, but what a mess!

Eredin snorts, tossing back his full head of tarry hair. The glistening alabaster skin has reddened – in one spot in particular on his shoulder – and the vein under the velvet-rimmed collar throbs to the heaving of the elf’s chiselled chest. A ruined shirt hangs forgotten around a tense forearm, tense and erect like the rest of him that persists by vigour alone under the awkward angle of perpetual bowing.

Hot lips move along her neck. ‘Like it?’

Pearly white gleams along the Sparrowhawk’s shaft; more of it still dribbling down the back of his powerful thighs. He is staring at her incredulously. Is it excitement that exudes from him, or skittishness? She cannot entirely tell.

She decides she likes it.

‘Go on,’ her beloved whispers, giving the strap-on a few tugs. He is still semi-hard himself. ‘Mount.’

Lara gently approaches her horse.

Bewildered pale green eyes roll under curling eyebrows. Observing. Measuring her up. Blinking in disbelief. She is glad her steed has such sharp eyes. Yet she is not her mother.

‘You are no rider.’

‘Am I not?’

The male chortles. Her fingers trail along the ribcage of the beast, as she slips over the balustrade, feeling the smaller muscles twitch funnily. Is he ticklish?

‘You will have to do all the work, princess!’ the Sparrowhawk hisses, craning his neck. The Gull lets him. There are so many interesting things right now in those sharp eyes that prey in the skies they share. ‘Appearances may suit you, but do you know how to use this?’

‘This?’ she takes “herself” in her hand. ‘Let’s see.’

Visible trembling passes through solid muscle as she gives him her first try. She looks up. And looks away again. Looking at her Fox right now is of absolutely no help here – she has to concentrate! It is strangely exciting.

‘How does it feel?’

‘Simply exhilarating.’

‘Don’t lie. Am I that different? How?’

‘No. You, too, talk too much.’

Gulls and foxes do chatter. Eredin, like Crevan, is notably larger than her, but the pinned position in which her Fox has left the Sparrowhawk helps. She strokes the curve of his rear.

‘I would like for you to enjoy yourself.’

‘What for?’

For him to understand that Lara does, in fact, wish for all of them to get what they want. For him to... to trust the rider. Trust her. He laughs throatily.

‘You get distracted too easily, your grace. I wager we will face lots of problems because of it one day. Call it a sagely intuition.’

He is slick, stretched, and as she brushes past the male’s prostate – she presumes by her knowledge – the muscles in his thighs contract, but Lara does not entirely understand this side of desire. Until, after several shallow movements with her hips she catches the Sparrowhawk staring at him from the corner of his eye.

‘You are no rider, your grace,’ the elf drawls dryly. ‘Let yourself be loved and leave the loving caresses to us. This is not your place.’

Indignation burns through the daughter of Shiadhal. She almost misses entirely how dark the captain’s eyes really are and, a moment later, delights inordinately in the ravening moan that escapes his lips as she thrusts deep without qualms. The trembling in the sculpted flesh under her fingers shoots up the male’s damp smeared back and the sorceress’s hands follow until they brush dark hair.

‘Play with it.’

She tickles instead.

Crevan smiles broadly, throwing the empty crystal class – it turns into light blue butterflies before crashing into countless smithereens.

Lara surges again, feeling her steed push into her in what little capacity he can. She loosens the magical bindings a little, witnessing at once how the pent up, violent energy swirling within him finds an opening to dissipate and leaves taut flesh momentarily shocked and trembling by the slack it is allowed. His graceful sigh – entirely unexpected – convinces her to loosen the bindings a little more. She is not her mother. She is spring! Not winter. All the while moving with increased confidence, as they are gradually reaching an understanding.

With the second sight that fairy dust opens, the Gull experiences the Sparrowhawk as the magnificent creature he is in his own right and it delights her. She hopes he can appreciate his own beauty in this moment, no matter their differences. For there is something beautiful and befitting in fitting. They should always move, the mount and the rider, as if entwined – each in their proper place. Only like this can they take on the stars.

We must not fight, you and us. We must not!

‘Take this.’ Appearing by her side, her Fox puts the end of his belt in her hand. ‘Then, like this.’ He reaches around her swiftly, flicks Eredin’s face with his fingers, and before the curse aimed at them can ring out in its wholesome glory, the etched buckskin belt is flexed tight and the elf’s head jerks up like sprung from a mouse trap.

‘Hold on to it. Hold it! Tightly.’ Lara pulls, her perspectives whirling, melting, changing. ‘That’s right. Around your fingers. Now, spur.’

‘What about his teeth?’

‘He will bite down. Endure.’ The familiar smell of Crevan is filling her with pleasant surety. He is restoring the binds to their former position. ‘It’s his duty. He serves you. It must never be the other way around.’

‘I do not wish for my subjects to hate me!’

‘This is a natural reaction. When you spur and whip your mount, it hates you. Sometimes whipping is necessary. Other days you groom it, feed it, and it loves you.’

He presses into her back, his hard flesh rubbing against smooth fabric, as his fingers undo the makeshift ties on her hip.

‘In the end, it must always recognise your authority because it cannot do otherwise. Because such is love between a servant and mistress. You are the Goddess, but he is not the God. Nothing but harm can arise out of confusing these rules. It would not allow either of you to get your due.’

Crevan places a footstool between them and lifts Lara, leaning her forward over their guest’s back, ensuring she neither slips out nor falls.

‘Eredin is our most magnificent master of horse. He knows these rules very well. It is his duty, once called upon, to help carry us to new worlds. And ours, to show and open the way.’

‘Crevan, what are we –’

‘Keep going,’ he breathes heavily, solid and secure against her with his heartbeat pounding in her ears; his mouth sucking on the pulse in her neck while his cock brushes back and forth along her wet folds. ‘Keep going, sweet heart. I am here.’

And then his hands dive under her dress beginning to work their tender magic before which there are no barriers. Gathering her excitement, playing with it, re-directing it – for her pleasure. Lara shudders in ecstasy. Always for her pleasure, always.

‘That’s right. With your back. You are doing beautifully.’

The belt slips out of the princess’s hands, and the elf lord spits it out, cursing. Groaning, as she buries in him encouraged by the hips of the male settling over her. They all really want the same thing at the end.

‘Do you hear it, Lara?’ the princess of the Alders moans as her Fox slides inside her. ‘He loves you. In his proper place, he cannot but love you, and will never betray you. Ever play only on your terms, my sweet heart.’

‘I am,’ she breathes, moving her hips forward to give, and back toward the increasing fullness – to receive.

He curses softly. ‘So warm. So beautiful. Keep going, my love. I’ll move with you.’

‘To where the sky’s the limit, but in-between there’s you. Always you, Lara.’

She threads her fingers in his sun-kissed hair, kissing them both breathless, and tapping into his pleasure which is her pleasure which will be the pleasure of all of them.

‘There will be a mess.’

‘A mess,’ he growls, shifting deeper and deeper inside his heavenly Gull. ‘Yes. There will be a mess.’ Her back arches. ‘What else is there for us? There is already such a... mess.’

Crevan covers her hands with his.

Lara finds her rhythm.

Between life and death.

Then the fox reaches around his gull and jerks the sparrowhawk off until he feels him buck wildly against fey tethers and choke in his friends’ giving stranglehold. Until Crevan’s mind is eaten away by trembling contractions greeting him and he slides his palm across Lara’s belly.

‘Shall I catch you a sun, Lara? Shall I hide all the stars – one, two, three – inside you? First it makes you ill, then it goes straight to your head.’

His Lara laughs.

He pours into her in pleasure that does not fade, thinking:

Let them all, one day, have their free fall up the hill.

#lara dorren #eredin #avallac'h #the witcher #wiedzmin #aen elle

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

“Dance For Me.”

A/N: Here’s your pole-dancing AU you bunch of thirsty… people on discord. Idk, I’m bad at… trashtalk if it’s not for self-defense. I also don’t cuss unless it’s in fics. Because I’m technically not cussing, the characters are *wink wink*.

Batting second after Lary! Khazumi~ Coming in! Unless someone already finished before I did and I didn’t notice, haha.

I’m not one to write NSFW. At least not for public… consumption. Borderline, yes. But like… I suck at NSFW, not gonna lie. I’ll try my very best?

I'm also sorry that I can't write pole dancing very well. Hope you can... picture out what's going on. haha.

Weirdest thing I searched for confirmation while writing this was ‘during intercourse are your pupils constricted or dilated’ Because my mind is so lost rn hahha.

My timeline here is before Christmas. I’m sorry. I need it.

Basically, I'm sorry for this trashy fic.

ayt.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

This… is not quite what Diana expected when she left Akko this morning for work at the estate.

The past few months, Akko had been busy with teaching her classes at Luna Nova, on top of performing her scheduled weekend shows in town that the woman just wouldn’t give up the chance to do. Always for the smiles, always for the people’s happiness.

And Diana loves her for that, she really does. Dear Beatrix, she loves her wife- of three years now- to death.

But while she had been excitedly looking forward to the holidays, winter rolling around, expecting that she’d finally have her wife-mind you- all to herself, said wife had other plans, it seems.

Akko had agreed to be booked almost daily this season, and despite being home in Diana’s arms each night, she had absolutely zero energy to do anything but snuggle up to the former heiress and fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

Diana had pouted for days on end, telling Akko to give her one day, to spend just one day with her.

Akko, despite all her regrets of leaving her wife like this, couldn’t just cancel. But she had promised to dedicate the two days before the twenty-fifth, right up ‘til the end of vacation to her lovely spouse.

And Diana has to reluctantly agree. She knows in her heart that this is Akko’s passion, it’s what makes her the amazing woman known for her beautiful believing heart.

Diana just needs patience. So much patience.

But then, on the day of Christmas Eve, she gets a call from the manor. It’s related to the estate. About a sudden accident with one of her people. She couldn’t not go. At least she’d try to finish up early so she could offer her remaining time to-

Akko’s phone rings.

It’s a special request. A little girl’s birthday. And she just had to see the amazing Kagari (-Cavendish) Atsuko perform her special magic. Now this wouldn’t have been that much of a problem had the party been in the morning or early afternoon, however it appeared as though it would take place around five pm. Diana knows it will run overtime. It always does. Everyone loves to bask in the presence and utter warmth of ‘Atsuko’ after all.

So, Begrudgingly, they both prepare for their respective agendas, Diana feeling absolutely depressed over the fact that she would be coming home for Christmas eve to an empty house, cold halls, devoid of the calming scent and lovely voice of her wife singing her favorite Shiny Chariot showtune from the kitchen as she cooked all of Diana’s favorites.

Akko notices. She always does.

She walks up to the sulking blonde, cupping her face in her hands, chuckling at those pouty lips, those teary eyes. “I’m really sorry, my Diana.” She whispers. “Really, I am.”

Diana sighs in defeat, pulling her wife into one last bearhug before work.

“Can I at least have my own Magical Atsuko show?” She uncharacteristically turns her puppy eyes to her wife, only ever showing Akko this spoiled child within.

“I’ll only give you the very best.”

“With a little song?”

“Whatever you’d like

“Mm…” Diana nodded, looking down at her feet before raising her head, one last question on her mind. “Dance for me?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Akko laughed, nuzzling her nose on Diana’s. “But for now,” She pinches the taller witch’s nose playfully before planting a kiss. “This is for the kids.”

…

This is DEFINITELY NOT “for the kids”. For any kids. For anyone for that matter. Diana would never show this to anyone. Over her dead. Lifeless. Fucking. Body.

Nonononono. Diana shakes her head a thousand times internally.

No.

Just no.

Diana gasps as she drops her suitcase on the floor, the contents spilling out at the impact. She had not expected this of all things. She imagined coming home to an empty house, no Akko, and miserable reheated food.

She hadn’t expected unlocking her door to the smells of a rotisserie chicken, some wine, and Akko’s homely scent.

She wasn’t expecting the low thrum of music in the background. She didn’t think that her wife would stand in front of her, in her usual show outfit- no. Wait. This isn’t her show outfit.

Like hell she’d wear that to a children’s party!!

No, this. THIS… This is a knock-off Shiny Chariot costume that is far too skimpy to be sold to the young and pure fans of Chariot. This is one of those costumes you’d see them sell adults for dumb pranks on Halloween, or see it at those kinds of shops.

How did Akko even get that?

Online?

The internet is truly fearsome. Shameless. So Shameless.

And so is Diana as she gawks at her pretty wife, donning a very short white skirt, a top that very much exposes her midriff- technically, only holding together those perky mounds-, a cape that is probably the only thing covering her wife that can be counted as decent, thigh-high- gosh- those thigh-high boots, hair free of that small side pony-tail; and that signature white witch hat tops off the ensemble.

“Welcome home~” Akko greets with her usual cheer, expression innocent and beaming, before it shifts a sultry color, tone dropping into a hushed invitation. “Diana.”

Said woman is quiet, she struggles to form a response.

Akko.

‘Let’s try saying your wife’s name now, Diana Cavendish.’

“A-A-A-A… aaahhhh…”

Oh, Great Beatrix, give me strength.

A lot of it. A trolley’s worth, if you must.

…-and stamina. Please. Strength and stamina to endure.

And Clearly Diana isn’t wishing to hold her ground against temptation.

She might just have a long night ahead.

“Diana.”

“Y-yes! I’m l-listening. Very clearly… most…. Definitely…” She says whilst staring at the gracious amounts of cleavage-

“Of course you are, babe.” Akko chuckles in that sickeningly sweet tone, taking a step forward as Diana takes one back. “Where are you going?” She takes another, as does Diana in the opposite direction, her back meeting the hard wood of their front door.

“N-nowhere, I’m… I’m Home.” Diana feels her hands become clammy, shaking, as she wonders where to put them.

“Heh~… I thought you were running away or something.” Akko smiles kindly, actions not as kind. She traps Diana with her body, arms on either side of her head. “And I wouldn’t like that. Would you?” Her eyes flutter innocently, lashes long, eyes wide.

There was clearly only one correct answer.

“N-no.”

“Good.” Akko laughs like gentle chimes, pleasant to the ear.

Diana smiles, feeling a little more relaxed.

-Before one hand comes off the wall and now climbs up her torso, Akko’s index and middle fingers walking up to Diana’s tie before her hand takes it, pulling it out of the vest.

“I always liked it when you wore ties.” She murmured, eyes blank and scrutinizing the tie. Before Diana could respond, Akko was already resting her head on Diana’s chest, hand absent-mindedly twirling the thin red tie. “I also like that you wear my colors on you.” Akko raised her head, pulling on Diana’s tie so that their faces came so incredibly close to one another, lips a hair’s breadth apart. “Tells people that you're mine.”

That effectively steals the air out of Diana’s lungs as Akko steps back, still holding fast to the tie, pulling Diana along, as if on a leash. Her Japanese wife leads her to the living room and sits her down on their amazingly comfortable couch.

But not even that could ease Diana’s tense nerves.

“H-Hi.”

“Hi, Diana.” Akko greets back, leaning over her wife, a finger gliding from the base of Diana’s throat to her jaw, tipping it up to guide blue eyes up to meet the most intoxicating wine. “What was your last little request for me this morning, again?”

“I- I… uh… um…”

“Yes?” The brunette lowers her body onto Diana’s head tucked between the poor heiress’ shoulder and neck, peppering kisses along her jaw. “Please remember, darling. I really want to do it for you, you know?” She chuckles, biting on a certain spot near Diana’s throat making her yelp, then licking the area to ease the pain. “I prepared really well for it. I tried so hard for you.”

Definitely not the only thing that was hard, Diana thinks.

An uncontrolled whine tears its way out of the blonde’s mouth, mind desperately trying to remember what the hell she last asked.

Then it clicks.

“D-dance…”

“Hmm?”

“Dance for me…?”

Akko seems elated with her answer, nuzzling her neck once before pulling away, Diana missing her warmth… or heat. Or both.

“With pleasure.”

Diana is sure there will be a lot of pleasure involved.

With a flick of her wand (where had Akko hidden that?), a pole rises from the floor in the open space of the room. Akko stalks hypnotizingly towards it, grasping the hard metal with one hand before smoothly pulling herself into her first twirl.

‘Oh Great Nine. This is one of those dances, isn’t it?’

Diana swallows so painfully, finding her throat constricted, the opposite to her dilating pupils as she watches her wife with the focus of a predator waiting on its prey.

Off goes the cape, and Diana only now realizes just how little of her wife’s ass is actually covered by that skirt.

She loves Akko’s ass- She loves Akko. Period.

-along with her thighs and bottom.

She admires her better half’s toned body, muscles flexing and simply wonderful as Akko spins herself around the pole gracefully, hanging onto it with only one hand. The elegance of the movements allows Diana to forget her barely restrained arousal, leaving her in awe for a few moments.

Then a toned leg wraps itself around the pole, Akko rolling her body up against it, turning her gaze to Diana, eyes half-lidded and so sinful. All that talk about grace- screw it, right now.

Another twirl, and another, and another.

Akko climbs her way up the pole so sensually, Diana wishes she were the one being climbed like that. Then Akko stops near the top, almost as though she was frozen. Diana waits with bated breath, before Akko’s hands suddenly release the pole, falling backwards; and Diana panics, thinking something happened and her wife was about to hit the ground hard- but only the hat does so. Akko’s body hangs smoothly in the air, legs squeezing tight, flexing those amazing thighs.

Oh, to be between them instead.

The spinning restarts. Repeats over and over, legs stretching out, then pulling in. At times, an arm would reach out, almost as if it were inviting the audience in, to come closer; to come touch this performer. Then Akko lowers herself to the ground, movements sophisticated, nimble, body poised, and oh so sensual. It’s an interpretative dance, and there must be story behind it.

Diana just doesn’t have enough brain power to process it.

She gasps as her wife stands up; the skirt is forgone, leaving Akko in racy black panties that matches her top that might as well not exist. And again, she’s on that pole, embracing it, caressing it with one hand, down to her body, allowing her palm to slide down her chest to a taut stomach, abs glistening in sweat, before reaching down her legs, and between her thighs, then out, back to latching onto the pole.

The loss of garment shouldn’t distract her. She’s sure this action was to give her wife better grip on the pole. Definitely the reason. Yes. Not because this was… was a… that.

Of course.

Breaking the unspoken rule of silence, a voice suddenly begs for her attention.

“Diana…”

…

Fuck.

“Nnmm!”

Diana throws her head back for a second, needing to relieve her burdened senses at the sight that had just greeted her mere moments ago.

Akko had basically rubbed herself against the pole, her most intimate place surely touching it as she slid up then down, dropping into an air-split, barely hovering over the ground, still twirling, yet painfully slow this time, basically presenting herself to the very red mess breathing heavily on the couch.

Diana’s not sure she can stay seated anymore. She’s been holding back. She’s certain she can’t keep holding back.

“But why are you holding back?”

The question throws her for a loop, eyes so wide, as she stares at Akko’s tantalizing figure, draped over her pole, breathing as difficultly as Diana is.

She releases her show equipment, leaving the pole to disappear as she strides forward provocatively, halting in front of Diana, placing her hands down on the blonde’s open lap, freeing them from their squeezed-together position just moments ago. They massage at Diana’s thighs, and the heiress moans, unsuppressed.

Her dancer takes a seat on her lap, hands busying themselves with loosening Diana’s tie a bit more, removing it from her before Akko slings it around her own neck.

“You are so mean, Diana… even after I called for you so many times…” Akko whispers against her lips, eyes fiery and slightly angered. Diana’s hands are guided to rest on Akko’s hips as she grinds against her wife needily. “Utterly horrible.”

It should be the winter season as it was Christmas. Diana knows that the outside world was harshly cold and chilly, but that temperature did not seem to apply to her. Most definitely not within Diana, and most definitely not between her leee-heeeeg- ‘damn you, Akko’.

“Why would you not come for me?”

‘Which ‘come’ might we be discussing here’, Diana wonders.

“I… I didn’t know… my apologies.” Diana stutters out, distracted by the hand touching the inside of her thigh.

“Even when I made it so obvious?” Akko pouts, biting Diana’s shoulder angrily as her hands make quick work of the taller witch’s buttoned shirt. Those same hands splay against her collarbone and shoulders, caressing and teasing, moving to the back of her head to massage her scalp. The Head of Cavendish gets pulled into a long kiss, her significant other’s tongue pleading entrance as it licks along Diana’s full lips, thighs squeezing Diana’s legs.

Diana permits, giving the appendage access to explore her mouth completely, sometimes brushing against her gums, and gliding along her teeth, entangling with her own tongue. Akko pulls away with a rough nip on Diana’s lower lip.

The latter’s hand is held captive, guided somewhere along her lover’s body.

The heiress fails at hindering any sounds from escaping her as she feels hot liquid drip onto her fingers, before pooling into her open palm. So that’s where Akko had brought it.

“Diana.”

Her eyes are bewitching. Fitting of her occupation. They hold Diana’s gaze a prisoner, not against her will. They compel her to do something. Akko rubs against her once more, and Diana whimpers aloud.

“Diana.”

Arms tighten their loop against Diana’s neck. Akko’s voice still sounds calm and controlled, but her actions tell Diana that she is anything but. She’s basically riding her at this point.

“Diana.”

“Y-yesh?!” Hooded, dark, tempting. Akko’s eyes were all those things. And maybe Diana’s were too.

“Diana.”

“Yes…?” Diana feels a switch flip as her finger slips into that wet, heated space and makes Akko cry a lovely tone. She goes deaf to the world, all her focus on the woman shivering delightfully in her arms.

“Diana…”

“Yes…”

“Dance with me.”

A/N: So… sequel?

~Shintori Khazumi

#dianakko #Little Witch Academia #lwa #rated m #read at your own discretion #diana x akko #diana #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #kagari akko #pole dancing au #fanfic

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justjessame · 3 years

Text

Starting Over Chapter 23

While having my ass hit the car horn and stop us before we could - well honestly, did we REALLY want to have our FIRST time in a compact rental car in the parking lot of a hotel in Delacroix, Louisiana?

Getting out of the car without falling face or ass first onto the blacktop was a bit of a stretch, made much easier with Bucky’s assistance, then we were beeping the car locked - my camera equipment was secured in the trunk and my purse was within easy reach - it was a matter of getting inside the hotel and to my room without getting arrested for public indecency. And I cannot stress how fucking difficult that was after FINALLY getting our hands and mouths on one another after being apart with nothing but emoji pineapples to keep our sanities.

We managed, somehow, and when the door clicked shut behind us, I was pressed against it and his mouth was hot on mine again. I didn’t make the same mistake I’d made in my kitchen, I didn’t trap his clothing with my legs or knees. My fists were bunching the hem of his shirt while his hands were still carefully cradling my face, even while it seemed our hunger grew with each flick of our tongues and nip of our teeth.

I pulled away once I had his shirt pulled up his back, yanking it free from his body. “I really do love you in this color,” I gasped, tossing it to the floor when he finally caught on that my fingers were moving to the waistband of his pants.

Bucky’s fingers slid down my neck, being far more gentle with me than I was with him, carefully unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it off my shoulders even as I unbuckled his belt and let go long enough to let my shirt fall away to meet his on the floor. He was biting his lip as his gaze dipped down my chest, taking in the lace of my bra and then his mouth met mine again and he reminded me that it didn’t matter how long ago Bucky’s last time had been, he still had moves. His fingers didn’t miss a beat unsnapping my bra, or ridding me of my pants, and I had him kicking his off just as quickly. Shoes, panties and boxers were quick to join the pile and then we were gasping for breath again, pulling back to stare at one another, gaging to see if we both REALLY were ready for THIS.

James Buchanan Barnes was a work of art. Anyone who didn’t see it was blind and I’d debate the issue with them until I took my final breath. Standing as bare before me as Adam must have stood before Eve, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and tracing his lines. And he showed infinite patience while I did it. Even as my own heart pounded, even as I felt his pulse racing in answer to mine - he stood still and let me study him to my heart’s content.

“You said you wanted me,” my voice was barely a whisper, and I didn’t hear him swallow but I could see his Adam’s apple bob. “I’m yours.”

I was in his arms and on the bed under him thinking that I’d never get used to the heat that poured off of his body. Bucky, always so careful of me, moved so he was holding most of his weight off of me with his left arm, the one he still wasn’t completely fond of - and those stormy gray eyes of his locked on mine as he slid into me for the very first time and I wondered if he felt as shaken to the very core as I did, even before either of us moved. I felt like I was trembling, and that he was, and we might have been, but then we both moved and everything fell together.

For once there weren’t any jokes, or interruptions, or - nothing stopped us. Nothing could have stopped us. It didn’t take hours, or days, I think the fact that both Bucky and I were out of practice and were so on edge had something to do with that, but after that first quick round, well let’s just say that we didn’t have the energy to make our nest on the floor and we didn’t get up in time to have breakfast with Sam and Sarah - we almost missed lunch too.

The nightmares didn’t stay away - for either of us. Nothing could actually do that, but when you’re pleasantly exhausted somehow the night terrors don’t seem as horrible. We woke up in a tangle of sheets and limbs, and I was deliciously sore in all kinds of very happy spots. Bucky’s lips seemed drawn to the nape of my neck and if I thought he purred when I touched him, I made a noise that I had never made in my life when he kissed me there on first waking.

“Morning,” my voice was hoarse, and I tried to think back to whether I had made noise during our nighttime activities. “I think I’m thirsty.”

He was chuckling and I loved the way it felt vibrating through me and the bed. “Thirsty?” He was nuzzling against my neck. “I’m sure you are, considering how LOUD you were last night.”

“Was I?” My throat was agreeing with his assessment, but my memory wasn’t adding to the narrative. “That’s bizarre, cause I can’t actually remember being loud.”

Bucky rolled me onto my back and leaned on his elbow to stare down at me. Brushing my hair out of my face, he was smiling. “I can believe that,” his finger tip strayed down my cheek to my lower lip. “You were loud, but you weren’t using WORDS.”

“I wasn’t?” I bit my lip and wondered if I could get a refresher course, just to remind me of my noises. “Did you short circuit my brain, Bucky?”

He was grinning as he lowered his face to mine. “Maybe,” and then his lips brushed mine and I thought that he could keep it up because brain cells were highly over-fucking-rated.

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #FLUFF AND SMUT #eventual smut #slow burn #humor

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toloveawarlord · 3 years

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You can find my masterlist in my bio!

25 Days of Christmas Day 6

Characters: Vira, Comte, Vlad

Prompt: “Come here, you’re shivering.”

Tagging: @plumpblueberry @christmaswarlock @sakura-1819 @starry-starry-night24 @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @thewitchofbooks @ikemensengokufangirl @stardust-dreamer13 @gay-noodle-clan @nad-zeta @canaria-blackwell

A/N: A little glimpse into Comte and Vira’s past, before they became estranged!

It never boded well when she disappeared, not on a night where they were intermingled with humans. Comte weaved through the crowd, giving calm, controlled smiles, and hellos to all those he passed while searching for his young daughter. Even at nine years old, there were old families seeking to gain favor by sending their sons to court her.

He stepped out to the balcony, gaze sweeping from the right hallway to the left. Nearly missing them, golden eyes found the raven-haired girl shove the boy away with enough force to topple him over.

“Please leave-” Her voice weak, body trembling.

Not from the cold. Comte inserted himself between the two, shielding her from view. The boy scrambled to his feet but bit his tongue of whatever insult he would have thrown at her. “I apologize for her behavior. Vira is not feeling well and would be quite upset if she caused you to become ill as well.”

The boy relented, dusting himself off as he returned inside.

Comte turned his attention to the young pureblood. “Come here, you’re shivering,” he said, draping his coat around her shoulders. A close call.

Vira couldn’t catch her breath. Golden irises reflected crimson red; fangs prominently stick out. His blood would have tasted most delicious, and oh how she’d desperately wanted it. “It hurts,” she whined, hot tears streaking down pale cheeks.

“I know,” Comte answered, drawing her into an alcove away from view. He dropped to one knee, brushing her curled hair from her face. His free hand tugged his shirt aside to give her access to his neck. “Drink, little one. You don’t wish to hurt anyone.”

A mantra spoken time after time. He reminded her that drinking from humans was dangerous, especially for her with such a hunger and no self-control.

The little girl hesitated for only a moment before sinking her fangs into his skin. Warm blood coated her tongue. For a young vampire, her bite was only pain. The numbing only that of a mere tingle, an attribute that would grow as she matured.

Comte weaved his fingers through her soft locks, gentle and reassuring. The pain a small price to pay. “It’s alright, mon trésor. I’m right here.” It wounded him to see her suffer so. It mattered not how much she drunk, the gnawing hunger returned in little time to torment her again.

“Now, now, Vira, let’s not drink all of daddy’s blood,” Vlad interjected with a gentle smile. The girl pulled away, giving them both a sheepish look. “If you’re still thirsty, I’m more than willing to sacrifice a little.”

Her tongue licked over her bloodied lips with a simple shake of her head. “No, I’m feeling better now, Uncle Vlad.” Her eyes only golden once again spied the plate of sweets in his hands. “Is that for me?”

The white-haired vampire chuckled. “It will aid in slowing the hunger.”

“And likely give you a stomachache in the process. Only a little, Vira,” Comte said, slipping the jacket back on to cover the bite mark that had already begun to fade. His head swam. Even though she was small, she had drunk enough for an adult to be well satisfied.

It was worth that brilliant smile.

Vira sighed contently as she stuffed another bite of red velvet cake into her mouth. Food aided in soothing the raw instinct as well. “It’s delicious. Do you want a bite, papa?” She delighted in sharing her spoils.

“No, little one, you enjoy it.”

“They are going to light the tree in the square. We don’t wish to be late, do we?” Vlad cast a glance to the large clock clinging to the stone wall. A tradition they’d done for the last few years. Traveling to this time on Christmas Eve was all she could speak about for three weeks leading up to it.

Is it time for the Christmas Tree lighting? Can we go see the lights now? We don’t want to miss it!

Alarm flickered across her features, golden irises sweeping over to her father. “Are we going to miss the lights this year?” Devastation threatening to spring forth like a dam erupting.

“Of course not. Let’s fetch a carriage.”

The town square was packed with more humans than the event they’d been guests of. Comte reached for Vira’s hand, keeping her tucked into his side to protect her from being separated. She raised up on her feet, struggling to see.

“Whoa!” Vira squealed when she was lifted up onto her father’s shoulders. “It’s so big! Do you think it’s the biggest one in the world?” She dropped her gaze down to him, fingers absently playing with his hair.

“Perhaps. It’s quite larger than the previous years.”

Vira hummed to herself, scanning the fir once again. “It has to be close. We should go look for the biggest tree next year. I’ll bet it’s somewhere really cold.” Her body shivered at the thought. They’d visited many places and many times, sometimes on a quest to answer a question plaguing the little vampire.

“You’d be surprised how tall they can grow in tropical climates,” Vlad replied, breath hanging in the chilled air. He delighted in her puzzled expression. There was a big world out there, waiting for her to learn all about it.

“Then, we’ll have to go a lot of places to find it. Do you think it’ll take a long time?”

The crowd began to cheer as the event began. Street performers and carolers took turns entertaining, building up the suspense to the lighting of the tree. It hardly caught his attention, not like the innocent wonder that accompanied Vira’s soft gasp of excitement. The lights dancing across her features, sparkling in those pure golden eyes.

“We’ve all the time to explor, mon trésor”

His Christmas wish a simple one.

Always find joy in the little moments, little one, for time will ceaselessly try to steal them away.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp comte #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp fanfiction #vira #comte daughter #he loves her so much #and still does in the present #she was a cutie as a kid

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flutteringphalanges · 3 years

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Summary: “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”

((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))

Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Rating: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Happy New Year's Eve AND happy Dracula 2020's First Year Anniversary Eve! I thought about posting this tomorrow, but I thought I made you guys wait long enough. Plus wanted to end 2020 on a good note since, well, this year has been...yeah...ANYWAY, hope you enjoy it! Feedback/likes/reblogs are greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

Chapter Twelve

Agatha leaned over the bucket again and retched the contents of her stomach out for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. The thick, tar like liquid had already begun to congeal as most old blood does. This time around it belong to a brown bear the Count had swiftly taken out in the mountains. The third animal the couple had tried to test Agatha's theory that she didn't need to survive off of humans. So far every attempt had ended in failure.

"You're growing weaker." Dracula commented, his voice impatient and edged with worry. "And if you keep up at this rate, you risk going feral." He wasn't sure how true his implications were, but at this rate, the former nun was endangering her well being. "Please, Agatha, be reasonable. It isn't a kill if I do it for you."

"And yet it would still be on my conscience." His lover sighed, wiping the side of her mouth with her sleeve. "If I am to live forever, I simply cannot have that." She swallowed, tasting the bitter bile on her tongue. "We'll keep trying. Surely there is something out there. No creature is designed to survive on one given source from a singular thing. Humans in our case."

The elder vampire groaned in response, clearly tired by his beloved's humanity that had managed to survive during her transformation. Agatha gently rested a hand on his arm, her eyes glancing up to meet his.

"Please." She said in a soft, yet adamant voice. "I want to keep going."

"If something begins to happen. If you start to change or..." His words seemed to fade off. "If it comes down to it, I will do what's in your best interest, Agatha. Even if you hate me for a millennium for doing it." Once more he paused. "I love you."

"I know." She smiled. "Which is why we will find a solution. Together." The corners of her lips twitched into a faint smirk. "And who knows, when we do, perhaps even you will convert."

Dracula snorted and rolled his eyes. "I hate to dash your hopes, but I can almost guarantee that will not be happening. I have an acquired taste and standards to boot. If we are successful at finding an alternative, I'll leave the riches to you." He leaned in close to her ear, his breath tickling and sending a shiver up Agatha's spine. "You truly have no idea what you are missing out on. The knowledge. The stories. Everything a filthy animal's blood lacks. Deep down, I know there is an inkling of curiosity within you."

The former nun took a step back, locking eyes with him. "That's what books are for. Reliable and only harmful from their papercuts. I will not be swayed from my decision, Count Dracula." Exhaling, she glanced around the room. "So we've tried deer, bear, rabbit...perhaps livestock is our next bet. Though, I do dislike the idea of stealing someone's property."

"You can't have it both ways, Agatha." Dracula frowned, clearly irritated by her stubborn, selfless nature. "Ultimately, the end result won't leave you with the happiest outcome, but stealing as you so referred to it is less sinful than murder." He scoffed at his words. "Then again, we both know our opinions on religion. Or lack thereof."

"...We could always start a farm?" Agatha spoke after a moment's pause. "After centuries, it wouldn't hurt for you to gain a hobby. One that would benefit me and keep you out of trouble." She chuckled, the laugh laced with exhaustion. "Imagine a flock of chickens. You could sell their eggs at the village market...if one was held at night, of course."

"And I think all of this animal blood has gotten to that pretty little mind of yours." Dracula said, cupping her face between his large hands. "Come, you need your rest. We can at least agree on that."

He was right on that account. She was feeling rather drained. Not to mention nauseated from the bear. The taste still lingered on the back of her tongue. Nodding her head, she took the vampire's hand and followed him down the long stretch of hallway to where their coffin was located. It wasn't the nicest looking thing, more so an oversized box filled with dirt. But Dracula was insistent on sleeping together and promised soon he'd have something specially made. Agatha couldn't help but wonder how someone would go about commissioning a luxury couple's casket. An interesting conversation indeed.

"I really hate that we have to sleep in dirt." Agatha grimaced as Dracula lifted the lid. "I don't care how restful it may be, waking up covered in grime isn't at all pleasant."

"You are by far the fussiest vampire I've ever created." Her lover laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "No one has ever voiced as many opinions as you. Or demands for that matter."

"Like you, I have standards...they just are different than yours." The former nun replied, eyeing the large box incredulously. "One day, when I have enough strength to do so, I'm going to look into these vampiric rites of yours." She could tell by the look on his face the idea didn't excite him. "Oh please, it isn't like I plan to shove a stake through my heart. Though, I am well aware that was a failed attempt on Jonathan Harker's part."

"To bed with you." The Count ushered, helping her into their place of rest. "Enough of this nonsense. It's time to take a nap while I go out and...borrow some farm animals. I hope you realize how much I care for you, I don't haul a full grown cow back to the castle for just anyone."

"Oh so heroic." Agatha snorted, pursing her lips as Dracula leaned in to kiss her. "Blatantly asking for praise rather than quietly accepting the fact that I truly appreciate all you do. If I am fussy, you are needy."

A pleasant form of bickering. Usually they had heated discussions-often of which ended in a passionate session of fucking. But tonight was different. Perhaps his worry for Agatha caused the flame to momentarily simmer down. Messed with his ability to be both suave and an ass. She looked beautiful lying there in the coffin she clearly despised, and though part of him wanted nothing more than to take her now, he knew it needed to wait. She was hungry. Needed to feed. And the consequences of not doing that were far from good.

"Name calling is childish, my dear nun." Dracula smirked knowing the irony behind it. "Now, please have enough sense to sleep. I'm losing moonlight by the hour and if I'm to get back here before dawn, I must leave now." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Stay."

"I'm not some hound." She called after him from the confines of the casket. "I can come and go as I please…" Agatha gazed up at the coffin lid that now blocked her view of the room. "For now, I just choose to accept that perhaps you are right about resting. Sleep does sound agreeable."

The former nun could've sworn she heard Dracula answer, but her mind had already started to grow foggy. Taking in an unnecessary breath, she closed her eyes and tried not to focus on the strange feeling in her stomach. She was so tired. So worn out. So weary that it didn't take long for her to slip away from reality and into her dreams.

Even in the darkness, Agatha recognized the place from where she stood. Though far emptier and dusty, it was an unmistakable memory implanted in her mind. The old inn that she had taken refuge in soon after her escape from the ruins of what had been St. Mary's convent and her lost sisters.

Taking a step forward, the former nun felt loose stone crumble underneath her feet. Glancing down, she lightly kicked a rock on the ground and watched as it bounced across the room, hitting the wall opposite her. She wasn't exactly sure why she was here. It was a dream, for sure, but it oddly felt real at the same time.

"Agatha?"

The voice was soft, meek, and the woman knew instantly who the speaker was. From the shadows, as timid as they day they met, Mina stepped out. She wore the same, blue habit as the day they had departed, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. A cold draft came in from a neglected open window, blowing her locks gently. The smell was intoxicating.

"Mina?" Agatha whispered, her voice hoarse. "Why are you...you need to go! Go now!" She covered her nose, throat burning. It was only a dream. Only a dream. And yet, it felt so horribly real. "Go now!"

But the other woman, oblivious to the fact her friend was now a vampire, had a look of relief plastered across her features. "You disappeared." She said, stepping closer Agatha who, in turn, backed up against the wall. "I thought I'd never see you again. Where did you go?!"

"Mina, please!" Agatha pleaded, biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste her own blood. "You must go now. You're in danger!"

"It's alright now." The young woman insisted, closing the distance between her and the vampire. "Now that we are together again, we can...Good God, Agatha, what's happened to your eyes?!"

The once flat edges of her teeth had begun to grow pointed and a low guttural sound rumbled deep from the bottom of Agatha's throat. She stared back hungrily at Mina, the last reminisce of control she fought to hold disappearing. The vampire stepped forward, a prisoner to her own thirsty as her victim stared back in horror. She was so thirsty. So very, very thirsty…

"Agatha?" Mina whispered weakly. "Agatha, please!"

But the rational, humane side of the former nun was gone. Mina's pleas of mercy falling on deaf ears. Without so much as a second thought. A second consideration. She lunged towards the woman, knocking her onto the ground. As her sharp nails dug into the woman's flesh, she gazed down and readied to bury her fangs into…

"AGATHA!"

Agatha's eyes shot wide open, startled awake by the sound of Dracula's voice. She looked up and saw the other vampire staring down at her in utter astonishment, his hands gripping either of her shoulders as if he'd been trying to hold her down.

"It's alright. It's alright. You were having a nightmare." He attempted to assure her as her head whipped around wildly. "I've been trying to wake you up."

"Mina…" Agatha panted, as if needing to breathe. "Mina...I tried to warn her...tried to stop myself…" She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I couldn't control it." When she opened them again, the former nun looked deeply into her lover's eyes. "I was so thirsty…"

Dracula's lips pressed into a thin line as if he was trying to hold back on saying something. It wasn't until Agatha gathered herself enough that she really took in what the other vampire had yet to admit. Deep, long claw marks scraped the inside of their coffin resembling those of an animal trying to get out. Agatha looked down and noticed chips of wood sprinkled across her.

"Did I…" She swallowed, her stomach twisting. "Was that...me?"

"We're running out of time, Agatha." The other vampire said quietly. "If we don't figure things soon enough, it's only going to get worse. I'm not willing to let that happen." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "That means, I'll have no choice but to teach you how to hunt."

Agatha said nothing, but stared at the deep marks on the coffin. She thought of her dream. Of Mina. Of all of this. Swallowing, she ran a hand through her messy hair and sighed.

"Fine." She relented. "Teach me."

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #BBC Dracula #Bad Moon Rising

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 3 years

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New Years with Lan Zhan

The following week leading up to New Years was… tense. But not in the way it had been before. This tension…. It was.. Well it was certainly potent.

I was just… I was AWARE of him. I’d decided to hope and hoping ment I had to re-examine how I saw him. How I saw how he saw me, rather. Reading into his actions and words with a romantic lens is…. Well… The kind of tension it creates is not exactly kid-friendly, let’s just say.

…..

I wanted to jump him, okay? Jump his bones.

Constantly.

I wanted to kiss him. To hold him. To touch him. In every place. In every way.

Ya boi was thirsty okay. (Still am but whoo-boi that was a TENSE week.)

We kinda danced around each other. I was very aware of the fact that we had kissed on Christmas under the mistletoe and that I had almost kissed him again two other times since.

Whenever we were close… the urge was so strong. Remembering the taste of his lips makes me just want to lick mine as if I can find traces of it still there. And every time I do I KNOW his eyes follow the movement.

Does that mean he wants me to? Is he thinking about it too? Or is he just tracking movement like human eyes just do?

We agreed that our first kiss was a disaster and didn’t mean anything.

Was it possible… that he feels the same way I do about that? Because it didn’t mean nothing. It meant everything.

Even if I tried to make it mean nothing. Even if I tried to convince myself it was just a mistake. Not to be repeated. Heat of the moment. Wrong. Manipulative. Bad.

And it was.

But at the same time

Oh…

Even if I never should have done it. That kiss….

When did I get to be this selfish?

But maybe…. Selfish is okay.

Because Lan Zhan returned that kiss. And maybe it wasn’t just out of pity.

I mean I’ll never know. I’ll never be ABLE to know regarding that kiss. But that doesn’t mean I can’t know for… well…. Future kisses. If he wants them even half as much as I do.

Even if it’s just a casual attraction. I can deal with that. If he wants me in ANY capacity beyond friendship…. I mean I can work with that.

Right???

---------------------

It all came to a head on New Years Eve. Or… Well I guess just New Years. We’d decided to spend the holiday together at home.

All in all there isn’t much to say about the day leading up to ringing in the new year together. We decided to order in and have something delivered so we could be lazy and stay in our sweatpants all day. (Well I stayed in his sweatpants. I have a modest selection of clothes again now but nothing is more comfortable than stealing his. ((Also on that note, I’m still really kinda sad that I lost my sexy jeans. I haven’t been able to find anything that hugs my ass quite so well as those did. Shame.)))

We spent most of the day just sitting together on the couch and watching stuff. Streaming movies and trying out some episodes of new TV shows. We ate when we were hungry and munched when we weren’t.

We even found some of the left over face masks to wear while he started our nightly routine of rubbing ointment into my hands (which by then had already almost completely healed due to his care and attention). My hands are completely healed now he still rubs in the lotion every night. It’s something neither of us seem willing to end.

And… well… okay so… somehow. Don’t ask me how. But all day long I happened to find myself more often than not sitting er… in his lap.

Okay so it was on purpose. I sat on him as a ‘joke’ but then he slid his arms around my waist to hold me there and so… Well, I just stayed.

I tried to get off at one point saying his legs were probably getting numb but he just pulled me back on and told me to stay.

So what was I supposed to do? His arms stayed around me most of the night. And when his arms weren't around me, his hands were on my hips or arms instead. Always touching me somewhere. Sometimes when I’d laugh at something on the TV his grip would tighten. Other times, when I was relaxed against him, he’d let me nuzzle his neck and breathe him in. I couldn’t help myself. In those moments he’d stroke my back, tracing patterns into my skin over my shirt.

When it started to turn towards the evening I did finally get up. He let me after I promised I’d be back in just a moment. I hopped off to the kitchen. I’d bought a store of very low-alcohol content beverages. Lan Zhan and I had briefly talked at some point about trying this - seeing if we could find alcohol content low enough that he could enjoy getting tipsy without blacking out entirely. There were just things like Mikes Hard Lemonade or wine coolers and such. Very low content stuff. I tried to pick out things I thought he’d enjoy the flavor of.

He looked confused when I returned with arms-full of different drinks, but still came up to help me take some.I reminded him of our talk of experimenting and said how I thought this was the perfect opportunity to try.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. If you’d rather not I’ll just drink these myself. But I thought it would be nice. Since you said you wanted to try to drink with me and these are very mild.”

He cut off my rambling with a hand to my cheek and a smile to my heart. He placed the bottles on the coffee table and selected something to start with. I grinned at him and opened up a bottle of my own Emperor’s Smile (always in supply gratitude of the ever-attentive Lan Zhan. Poor liquor store is gonna think he’s an alcoholic with how often he buys it. ….

Am I an alcoholic? I mean I don’t have a problem going long periods of time without drinking. I honestly just like the taste. And I don’t usually drink enough to get even a little buzzed… so like… that’s fine right???

┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah well I’ll talk to Wen Qing about that later…..))))))

I resumed my rightful place on his lap when he literally picked me up and placed me there. I laughed which made him smile and together we started to drink. He sipped at first, carefully testing out the flavor, but soon apparently decided that it wasn’t bad and drank with more confidence.

We took it slow at first, seeing how he reacted. By the end of the first bottle he was feeling it a little but only just, he said. Which was a good sign!!

We thought about doing a drinking game but I thought that might be pushing it for our first time doing this together and we decided that depending on how this went maybe we would try that next time. If there was a next time.

The ‘Game’ idea stuck though and we both suddenly remembered the Switch that SangSang had left him all that time ago. We still don’t really have many games for it but that’s okay.

Long story short

Tipsy Mario Kart is hilarious. We kept drinking through the night and both got a nice buzz going. I don’t know how to drive anyway but whatever. It helps you if you fall off the track and there are no turn signals or anything to worry about. But like okay here’s the thing.

As Lan Zhan got tipsier, he started to drive slower and MORE carefully. Like There’s this section on one of the maps where if you take a riskier jump it works as a shortcut. Like one of those high-risk/high-reward things.

But like… I stopped one time to watch him. He very carefully steered his car so that he was lined up on the ramp and tried to like back up so he’d have a runway. It took him a good 20 or 30 seconds to just get his car straight. And then he punched it.

Except there wasn’t any momentum. Because he went from dead-stopped. So he got to the top of the ramp

And just flopped over upside down on the track below. He was so frustrated!! It was adorable!

He came in dead last that time. (Though I was second to laugh because I kept flying off the edge as a result of laughing so hard while pressing the ‘go’ button. Oh my god. It really was hilarious. He was SO frustrated. I mean he’d tried SO hard!!).

And don’t even get me started on Rainbow Road. I wish I’d recorded it somehow to show you guys. Just. Damn. There was this one time that I flew off the road, yeah? And like normally the little guy carries you back on with the fishing line right?

Except I managed to fall ONTO the track below. Like going the wrong way and way further behind but like it was impressive!

Well I thought so anyway.

Still managed to lap Mr. Careful though because Lan Zhan was DETERMINED not to fall off the road after the botched ramp incident.

In the end we were so into the game that we both lost track of time completely. Fortunately sober Lan Zhan foresaw this problem which meant that at 11:45 the two of us were scared out of our skin by the sound of his phone’s alarm going off.

“Oh! Oh yeah!! The fireworks!!!” I yelped in a moment of panicked clarity. (Nevermind that 15 minutes was more than enough time for even tipsy us to get our asses up to the roof like we’d planned.)

We gathered up some blankets and made the hot chocolate we’d planned for to keep us warm and both of us tromped up the little-used ladder that led to the roof.

I’d always wanted to do this specific cliche. Sitting on a roof with the person I loved to ring in the new year together under the light of the celebratory fire-works. We were close enough to see them pretty well from there, Lan Zhan had promised. Even though he’d never done it himself.

I trusted him. As I do with all things.

We managed to get our blankets set up. We’d planned on using chairs but instead decided on just some cushions instead so that we could stay closer to each other.

“For warmth” I claimed.

I remember waiting on that roof with him, half on his lap again as our misting breath mingled with the curling steam from the hot mugs of chocolate held in our hands.

There was just enough snow around to make everything a little muffled. Quiet and calm.

Between the liquor and the hot chocolate and Lan Zhan’s body pressed so close to mine, cold wasn’t even a whisper in my mind. I could have stayed like that forever.

I keep saying that don’t I? I guess it’s not so bad to have so many forevers, huh? Just means I’m happy with him, doesn’t it? And I am. I really am. As much as I want these moments to last forever… As long as I can have a forever with him… what more in this world could I possibly ask for? That’s what I want. I want a forever with him. I don’t care how or where. Just… as long as it’s with him.

My thoughts were swimming lazily in that direction when the first of the fireworks shimmered in the distance. We were far enough away that we could hear the boom without feeling the rumbling that accompanied it. I shimmied the rest of the way onto Lan Zhan’s lap when the display started and he put both of our mostly empty mugs aside so that he could slide his arms around me.

The air shimmered. Pinks and golds and silvers and greens. Reds and blues and oranges and purples. Sometimes in patterns. Sometimes just in a spray of glittering color.

I’ve always loved fireworks. The sound and the sight and the feel of them. The way they color the world for even a moment. I was always fascinated how different they are in person than they are with even the highest quality camera. It’s just… you have to see them live. Film just doesn’t do them justice.

Kinda like Lan Zhan. Beautiful on paper but in person just.. Stunning.

The finale was timed perfectly for Midnight. “Happy New Year, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said softly in my ear, making me shiver for the first time since coming outside. And not from cold.

I turned in his lap to look at him. “Happy New Year,” I replied in a whisper. He was so close. So so close.

This time… this time we both moved. I hadn’t been cold but the press of his lips against mine almost burned anyway. The kiss… it wasn’t the passion of our first kiss, or the awkward chastity of our second. This one lingered just a moment. Just enough that we could be sure that it was reciprocated on both sides. And when we parted a moment later we still stayed together. Lan Zhan pressed his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes and smiling that sweet smile that’s just for me.

I remember laughing a little and nuzzling my nose against him, scrunching it in an attempt to be cute. It must have worked because he chuckled too.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but despite the warmth of the moment, eventually we did start to feel the chill of the midnight air. It was with great reluctance that I untangled myself from him. We gathered everything up and took each other’s hand as we made our way back inside to the warmth of the apartment.

We let go to start cleaning up a bit before bed. I knew it was late for Lan Zhan but I also know that he’d prefer going to bed with the place relatively tidy and that we’d thank ourselves in the morning.

He went off to the kitchen to at least clean up some of the dishes and I set to putting the living room to rights.

My task was the easier one so I finished pretty quickly. Unwilling to be separated from Lan Zhan any longer than I had to, though, I went to the kitchen to see if he needed some help. But then….

Well you all know I’m a little goblin, right?

He was just… his back was turned to me at the sink. And his sides were exposed. Just begging to be tickled.

And well, I wasn’t DRUNK, (at least off alcohol) but I was definitely tipsy and so I crept in like the goblin man I am, slinked up behind him and went in for the tickle. He SQUEALED and started laughing like a mad-man. All the dishes he was holding crashed into the sink and he held onto the counter for dear life. His leg seemed to give out on him for a moment as he gasped for breath between more peals of laughter. It wasn’t until the pig snorts started that he really tried to fight me. His ears were so RED as he twisted in my grip, snorting all the way like little (or not so little) laugh hiccups. Oh Oh I never thought that a pig snort could sound so wonderful. Hah. It was ridiculous.

Eventually he managed to twist around and wrap his arms around me, effectively pinning my arms to my sides so he could catch his breath. His head was resting on my shoulder as we both let our laughter die down some.

It was all a ruse!

A RUSE!!!

All of a sudden while I was pinned there completely defenseless I felt

Hands

Ass!!!!

Apparently tipsy Lan Zhan decided that copping a feel was the only reasonable path for revenge.

Except… I don’t know how he knew. Or maybe it was just luck.

I am not ticklish anywhere on my body. Not even my feet.

Except for one place.

Nie Huaisang if I find out you’re the one who told him this I will skin you alive.

My butt… I don’t know why and honestly it is a very well guarded secret except that SangSang found out by chance once. But my ass is SO ticklish.

Lan Zhan grabbed a chunk (And there is a nice chunk to grab if I do say so myself) and just…

I collapsed instantly.

And now he knows.

Forever.

That if you tickle my ass

I bray like a damn donkey.

Like I laugh THAT hard. That I can’t breath. And when I gasp for air it sounds like a fucking donkey.

Which of course got his pig snorts happening again.

Thank GOD no one was near us wondering if we were expanding the bunny cafe into a full on fucking petting zoo.

Jesus.

And

Just to make matters WORSE.

Okay so I’m a weak man.

And I was trying to squirm away from him and he was trying to keep tickling my ass

And in order to keep tickling my ass and keep me from running his arms were still around me

Which means that we were pressed very close to each other

And I was squirming to get away and laughing and

Well….

You can guess what happened.

Let’s just say we were really feelin’ each other.

⚆_⚆

And if you DON’T understand what I mean. Good for you. Keep your innocence. I will not tarnish.

SO I mean clearly he was disgusted with me and made me sleep in the guest room and avoided ever touching me again, right? Except he wasn’t and he didn’t.

It was… well it was definitely awkward but…. We didn’t let go.

I mean we didn’t do anything else either. Maybe we could blame the alcohol or the fact that it was late or the just natural reaction of rubbing up against someone else. All of which may be true.

I mean we did talk a little. It is a natural reaction right? And… well…

I could still feel that kiss from the rooftop. I’d been trying NOT to linger on it too much, deciding it was something for my more sober brain to process in the morning. But I mean… We had just kissed. Under the moonlight. On the rooftop. In some new cheesy cliche 80’s romcom moment that I’ll treasure forever.

And then

We…

Ugh…

We both decided in the end that that was something to be dealt with when we were sober and that it was either way a natural reaction that just happened sometimes and that we could talk about it later if needed.

And after we.. em… caught our breath… we did eventually finish cleaning up and went to bed. As we normally do. Which means he was holding me. (Though I did pointedly avoid hip contact just in case ( ఠ ͟ʖ ఠ). )

We did NOT actually mention it again. I don’t know for sure that he remembers it and there’s no way in fuck I’m gonna bring it up if I don’t have to. At least not right now. We’ve got… other things to sort out in our relationship first.

Like… like the kisses.

First one doesn’t count (even though it does count.) because of circumstance

Second one still doesn’t really count because peer pressure and circumstance

But third one…..

It could have been the alcohol. And well, yes. The alcohol absolutely played a part. I know it gave me courage but I don’t know how it was influencing him. So STILL iffy on that circumstance and all that. (Alcohol =/= consent guys. Legit.) but like with how we’d been acting since Christmas and just…

It’s given me a lot to think about.

And we haven’t really talked about it but we aren’t like… avoiding it either. We’re just… I think we’re both testing the water.

And I’m starting to really really… It’s more than hope now.

His birthday is like in a week. And I’ve made my choice. I wanted to wait until my situation was much more settled before I even thought about trying to move our relationship in any direction.

And Now….

I’m in a much better place. I’m emotionally much more stable. And if needed I can find a new place to stay now so I’m not so dependent on him anymore.

So I think… I think at his birthday on Saturday… Maybe after the actual shindig… when we’re home alone together….

I’m going to get him a gift just like he got me and…. And I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him everything. Tell him how I feel. I’ll confess and then… well… Whatever he decides then… well I’ll respect it.

But I’m tired of this in between. I want one or the other. I want to know. I want to take my chance. Shoot my shot. I want to throw the ball into his court.

I just… I just hope he picks it up.

Fuck. This is gonna be hard.

#lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #Long Post #(Modern AU!)

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