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gothcsz · 26 days

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𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VI.

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: The highly anticipated state fair performance. Here's what I envision Paloma singing: Gunpowder & Lead - Miranda Lambert, One Way or Another - Blondie, Poor, Poor Pitiful Me - Linda Ronstadt, Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks.

WORD COUNT: 8k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: The interrupted right before kissing trope is strong with this one, i think most of this is considered fluff, they're still pining after one another, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: as promised, here's the other chapter for the week! i had so much fun writing this and expanding on their dynamic omg… first of all a little commotion for miss paloma…. the icon that she is! also couldn't help myself by having javi wear that sexy ass blue shirt in this… he is just so handsome… i need him BIBLICALLY i fear! i hope you guys enjoy reading, i have so much planned for this fic and it's going to get really messy here soon (: i might even post a lil moodboard for it. anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Finally , it’s the day of her long awaited state fair performance and Paloma is absolutely overflowing with anticipation, her energy bounding through the house like a whirlwind.

The night before was a restless blur, nerves and excitement intertwining to steal away her sleep.

She had read a variety of newspaper articles to get more information on the fair itself. She uncovered the staggering scope of its annual attendance; a revelation that both fueled her trepidation and determination.

Her heart pounded like distant drums as the reality set in: hundreds, no, thousands of eyes would be fixed upon her. The prospect thrilled her to her core, igniting a fiery passion within, yet it also stirred a profound stage fright.

Rarely does she feel said stage fright; memory of her last instance likely dating back to when she was fourteen, trembling as she took the stage at The Whiskey Fox for the very first time. Since then, her journey has been a voyage of calm seas, and now, as she's grown into her own, Paloma is enveloped in a sense of serene confidence.

It’s understandable that she’s apprehensive about transitioning from a smaller venue to a stage at a grander event. There’s a tinge of sadness in her heart knowing that her father wouldn’t be there to accompany her. He’s witnessed her artistic evolution firsthand and has always been her staunchest supporter. Her number one fan.

Unfortunately, duty calls and with Jessica Valdez still missing; he was needed here.

On the other hand, Javier’s presence was not as essential, and Romeo practically burst with joyful relief when Paloma revealed that the deputy sheriff would be her companion all the way to Dallas.

Just as she had expected.

Earlier in the morning, before heading off to the station, the sheriff had popped into her bedroom to wish her luck. With a tender gaze, he doted on his daughter, expressing his pride in her and, in his own unique manner, even offered a subtle apology for his recent behavior. As always, she embraced his understanding with ease, and in that moment, the weight of apprehension that had been bearing down on her lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and reassurance.

She’s currently stationed in her bedroom, sitting at her vanity and meticulously rolling her thick locks into velvety coils that she intends to keep in place throughout the entire four-hour journey to the city. Her face is bare, body clad in a tank top and shorts and she doesn’t plan on doing much to her appearance until they make it to the fairgrounds.

As a soft rumble fills the air, she casts a glance out of her bedroom window, her lips curling into a smile at the sight of Javier's truck rolling into view.

Fuck , she reflects on the unexpected bravery it took to ask him to join her. While her primary concern was appeasing her father, she also couldn't deny the appeal of spending time with him.

Despite her bold and flirtatious gestures, Paloma is sure that if the opportunity to actually fuck him ever arose, she would be overcome with nervousness. Don’t get her wrong; she longs to indulge her selfish desires and surrender to him completely. Yet, the thought of not meeting his expectations casts a shadow of doubt.

Oh, for fucks sake, Paloma–– when have you ever cared about living up to a man's expectations?

She scoffs at herself, bobby pin between her teeth as she rushes down the stairs to answer Javier’s knocking.

“ I am on time, right? ” He quips, his voice carrying a playful tone from the other side of the screen door since the wooden door that usually blocks it is wide open.

“ Sure are. I’m the one that's runnin’ behind. Don’t worry–– just gotta get my damn hair rolled up and we'll be ready to go. You can come in. ” She motions for him to enter, pausing in the hallway that stretches toward the foyer. She steals a moment to glance at her reflection in the mirror, deftly sliding the bobby pin into her hair to secure the roller in place.

As Javier crosses the threshold, the screen door emits a reluctant groan, briefly stirring the awareness that they are alone once more in the house. However, her attention remains steadfast on ensuring her hair is perfectly secured, leaving no room for weariness to take hold.

His gaze lingers on her figure, igniting a gentle flush that spreads across her cheeks and down her neck as she becomes acutely aware of the extent of her attire’s exposure. The lack of a bra allows her breasts to sway with every subtle movement, her nipples prominent against the fabric.

“ Need help gettin’ anything into the car, nena ? ” With a casual lean against the wall where the mirror hangs, he directs his question to her. In response, her eyes momentarily flicker towards him, a subtle effort evident in her attempt to prevent her blush from deepening any further.

“ Yeah, it’s all in my room. ” She spins on her heel, striding towards the stairs, with him silently shadowing her steps. The realization dawns on her that he will soon enter her room, prompting her eyes to widen in alarm as she takes in the chaotic scene before her— it looks like a fucking tornado has run through the space.

She doesn't have any time to block him from seeing it though, and she bites down on her tongue and mentally curses herself for not cleaning up as she got ready.

Though considering how frantic she’s been all morning, of course she hadn't stopped to think about tidying up.

“ Sorry for the mess… it’s been a morning. ” She grumbles and Javier can't help but be amused.

Surveying the room from the doorway, he takes in the entirety of the space, his broad figure remaining at the threshold. Posters adorn the walls in a scattered mosaic, each reflecting her eclectic tastes. From the timeless southern charm of Dolly Parton to the ethereal melodies of Fleetwood Mac and the vibrant rhythms of Donna Summer. Their presence doesn't surprise him. Instead, they offer a window into her personality, providing insight into her passions and preferences.

Javier tries not to analyze her by the things she has in her bedroom, yet he finds himself irresistibly drawn in.

It’s a facet of his innate curiosity.

He notices the scattered articles of clothing, a digital piano tucked away in the distant corner, and her bed left invitingly tousled and he can't help but imagine how soft her sheets must be, laced with the natural smell of her.

Amidst the wall space left by absent posters, her bedroom is adorned with an array of framed personal photographs, each encapsulating cherished memories from childhood whimsy to high school triumphs, and all the moments in between.

Yet, it’s the family portrait resting atop her vanity that draws Javier’s eye. He strains to decipher the intricate details of the photograph from where he stands, its contents obscured by the tilt of the frame.

Paloma, attuned to his intense focus, trails his gaze, her stomach tightening at the realization.

Oh.

“ Here, it's my makeup bag and outfit. Please be careful taking this down. I spent all morning ironing it. ” In an effort to divert his attention from the photograph, Paloma passes him her belongings. He carefully examines her features in an attempt at finding reason for her reaction, a half smile tugging at his lips.

“ So bossy, hermosa . Don't worry–– your things are in capable hands. ” He is reluctant to depart, preferring to linger and observe her as she completes her preparations, all the while mentally dissecting her character through the lens of her bedroom’s decor.

“ Sorry, I’m just nervous. ” She confesses, making her way back to her dresser, inconspicuously moving the photo of her, her mother and father out of the way as she returns to the tedious task of curling then rolling her hair.

“ You'll be fine. Pressure can either crush you or make you shine brighter. Let it be the latter. And hey, no matter what happens tonight–– I'll be right there cheering you on. ” The reassurance flows from him without much thought, a rare occurrence for this man who typically struggles with offering comfort. There's a naturalness to it, as if they’re drawn from some deep wellspring within him, bypassing the usual barriers of hesitation and uncertainty.

Paloma, sensing the sincerity in his gaze reflected back at her through the mirror, finds herself caught in the spell of his eyes. In that fleeting connection, she grants him a tender smile, her heart responding to his unspoken affection.

Unsurprisingly, the words bring her some ease, especially since she’s aware of how difficult it can be for him to muster up any type of verbal compassion. He’s a man of few words, after all, so each one carries extra weight when they escape his lips.

“ Thanks, cowboy, M’grateful for your support… and y’know, for taggin’ along even though you didn't have to. ” He nods at her, letting the comfortable silence speak for itself as she continues to get ready.

He senses the underlying urgency within her. Experience whispers caution in his ear, reminding him of the cardinal rule gleaned from years of female companionship: never incur their wrath while they are in the midst of getting ready. And so, he tears himself away, surrendering to the unspoken dictates of the feminine domain.

–––––––––––––––––––

They're just thirty minutes away from their destination, yet she remains fixated on the changing landscape outside the window. Her claim of not leaving Seminary in over a decade rings true, evident in the awe reflected in her eyes at the sight of skyscrapers and influx of people.

Javier can’t help but find her genuine amazement endearing, particularly as she gazes out with her hair pinned up stylishly, secured by a silk scarf. The journey to Dallas spans four hours, but the lively conversation between them makes the time fly by, rendering the trip far shorter than it actually is.

Their growing closeness feels like a beautiful risk as they delve deeper into each other's lives with every passing mile.

“ Y'know, I actually do know some Spanish. ” she remarked, drumming her fingers lightly against her thigh.

“ I had a hunch when you never asked me to translate my sweet talking. ” With an arrogant smirk, he looks over at her.

His smirk has her playfully rolling her eyes, “ No puedo leer o escribir tan bien, pero entiendo y hablo en forma conversacional. (I can't read it or write it very well, but I understand it and speak conversationally.)” In a tender twist, her voice took on a sweeter tone in the other language, prompting Javi to shift in his seat, attempting to refrain from envisioning the enchanting timbre of her words whispered intimately in the quiet sanctuary of his sheets.

“ Tu acento (Your accent) … Argentinian? ” He's got a real talent for picking up languages and accents, honed through his international collaborations in the field.

Paloma just shrugged, “ Your guess is as good as mine. My momma taught me and she never really talked about her life before meetin' daddy and stuff. I never really asked questions. After she passed, I didn't keep up with it as much as I should have. ”

The pauses in their conversation are rare, occurring only when the topics of family or his experiences in Colombia arise. Javier notices her keen interest in these subjects, her curiosity palpable. While he has been guarded about delving into anything beyond surface-level details, he finds himself gradually warming up to the notion of sharing a glimpse of his past with her, if only to satisfy her insatiable curiosity.

Yet, he holds back. This wasn’t the time. He wasn't about to cast a shadow over her spirits.

“ I can’t believe this is happening. ”

Paloma disrupts the tranquil hush that had settled between them, her fascination with the scenery outside pulling her into the moment.

“ Well, believe it cariño because we're not too far from the fairgrounds. ”

“ It’s like... a dream. I know, I might sound naive and childish gettin' this worked up about performing at a damn fair. It just means a lot to me. I’ve poured my heart into my music for so long and to see it culminate in this moment is just... thrilling . ”

A pang of longing for her mother’s presence washes over her, silently echoing within her thoughts. Yet she refrains from uttering the sentiment aloud, keeping her yearning hidden beneath a veil of silence.

“ It’s a big and well deserved step forward, Paloma. ” He pauses briefly, looking over at her, “ This means the world to you. You’re going to be amazing. ”

Javier's hand, warm and reassuring, gently finds hers, creating a tender connection that sends a surge of warmth coursing through her veins. The soft brush of his skin against hers ignites a gentle flutter in her chest, stirring feelings she doesn’t want to admit. It’s as if a silent symphony plays between their touch, drawing her attention away from the captivating scenery outside and directing it towards him.

With a soft, almost imperceptible smile, she meets his gaze, finding a silent reassurance and a flicker of something more lingering in his brown eyes.

Arriving at their designated area, meticulously mapped out in a thorough letter sent by Wendy to Paloma, she eagerly jumps out of his truck, bubbling with excitement, while he indulgently rolls his eyes at her enthusiasm.

Delighted to find the band already present and nearly done with setup, she breezes towards them despite her ridiculous appearance, exuding a radiant glow that outshines any imperfection. Her infectious happiness spreads like wildfire as she enthusiastically runs through the rundown of the gig with the group.

Javier stays out of the way, leaning against the bed of his truck.With a cigarette between his fingers and wisps of smoke curling into the air, he drifts into introspection

His mind becomes a labyrinth of memories, weaving through the tapestry of his past—the triumphs and tribulations, the moments of light and shadow. Amidst the haze of contemplation, he finds clarity in the decision that brought him to this juncture: the choice to refrain from confronting the Cali cartel.

Having spent years evading the ordinary, Javier stumbles upon an unforeseen refuge in monotony. With the weight of his taxing agent job finally lifted, he embraces the simplicity of everyday life with a newfound sense of relief.

As the days pass, Javier slowly discovers a peace he has long evaded, savoring the quiet moments that once seemed dull.

He finds himself drifting into a restful slumber, albeit for a few hours, a small victory against the insomnia that consistently torments him. In the gentle rhythm of routine, he begins to rediscover himself, finding solace in the tranquility he once feared.

While the looming homicide cases in Seminary present formidable challenges, each one a puzzle demanding his attention, he approaches them with a newfound confidence. It’s a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had clouded his final days in Colombia.

However, amidst this newfound tranquility, there persists a secret too delicate to utter aloud. His ongoing infatuation with Paloma, a woman whose presence has become both a source of comfort and turmoil. He won’t acknowledge that her presence in his life plays a significant role in his newfound ability to cope. Such complexities are best left uncharted, buried beneath the surface of their convoluted relationship.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Javier doesn’t notice when Paloma approaches him.

“ M’gonna go get ready. Sure you can survive a few hours without me? ” She teases him and he exhales the smoke away from her, the sunglasses on his face masking the adoration gleaming in his eyes.

“ I think I should be asking you that question, palomita . ” The new term of endearment sends her heart aflutter, and she can't help but feel how it resonates more when Javier says it in Spanish compared to when August had uttered it in English...

Little dove.

“ In that case, no, I’d simply crumble without you. ” She over exaggerates her words, punctuating them with playful gestures and a touch of dramatic flair.

Their laughter intertwines, and her smile blooms into a radiant expression of affection.

“ Órale nena , go get ready before you're late to your own performance. ” Javier indulges in another puff of his cigarette, and like the good girl she is, she saunters around the truck to fetch her belongings before heading off to the portable trailer, her makeshift dressing room.

In Paloma’s absence, he engages in conversation with the band members. Comprising three men and one woman, they share with him the story of how they met and how Paloma reignited their passion for music. The narrative resonates with her persona and innate ability to effortlessly charm those in her presence.

Javier an unsuspecting victim of this charm.

When the sun begins to set, he looks down at his watch to check the time as her lively voice draws near.

“ Alright, y'all, how do I look? ”

Javier's gaze alighted upon her, it was as if the world around him faded into insignificance, leaving only her radiant presence to fill his senses. His breath caught in his chest, suspended in the awe that washes over him like a gentle tide. In the depths of his soul, a symphony of emotions stirred, each note resonating with the profound beauty that she effortlessly embodies.

She beams with pride at the ensemble she’s meticulously curated.

A crimson leather corset embraces her waist with finesse, fashioned in the likeness of a halter top, baring her shoulders and presenting a tantalizing canvas of skin for all eyes to see. Her cleavage commands attention, accentuated by her mother’s cross pendant nestled against her breasts. She had transformed a pair of aged low-rise jeans, adding intricate rhinestone patterns promised to dance enchantingly under the glare of the stage lights.

The buckle on her belt is beautiful and distinguishable, an important accessory down here in Texas; she’s made sure that her boots match her attire.

Her hair cascades in perfect waves, thick and luscious, framing her face with a touch of effortless glamor. It’s been a long time since she’s had a full face of makeup on, and the strip lashes are uncomfortable against the sensitive skin but beauty is pain and goddamnit she’s stunning .

She feels the part of a super star, and her band members do nothing but boost her ego as they begin to shower her in compliments and friendly catcalls. She indulges them with a twirl, allowing them to admire her outfit from every angle.

Javier stays silent, dumbfounded entirely by how fucking hot she looks.

“ I think I just saw a horsefly fly into his mouth. ” One of the bandmates teases and this has Javier snapping out of it, meeting Paloma's expectant gaze.

For a man who always has something to say, especially in the company of beautiful women, he finds himself at a loss for words.

“ You look gorgeous, querida . ”

She blushes, murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ as her eyes momentarily flicker down to her square-toed boots. It’s exasperating how easily he can get her flustered. The compliment isn’t extravagant, yet it strikes her deeply nonetheless.

She won’t admit that the extra effort she invested in her appearance tonight was not just for the event; but also for him . She is aware that Javier finds her attractive and it harbors this desire to unveil a new facet of her beauty to him so he can see all the types of beautiful she can be.

As the rest of the group disperses to squeeze in some last minute warm ups, Paloma saunters toward him. Her hands rest confidently on her hips as his gaze traverses the curves of her form, unabashed and unapologetic.

“ I’m serious. You look hot and I know you’ll look even better when you’re up there doin’ what you’re so passionate about. ” His words have her heart racing, igniting a kaleidoscope of fireworks that burst with intensity within her core.

“ You're quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“ Only when I’m around someone as captivating as you. ”

Fuck.

“ Flattery will get you everywhere , you know. ”

“ Is that so? ” With a contemplative tilt of his head, he gazes at her, his aviators now absent, allowing her to lose herself in the depths of his enchanting eyes. “ Well, in that case, I’ll have to keep it coming. After all, I can’t resist making a beautiful woman smile. ”

They stand toe to toe, Paloma tilting her chin upward to meet his gaze while Javier gently inclines his head downward to meet her eyes.

As he looks down at her, the thought of planting a gentle kiss on her lips, a token of good luck, flits through his mind. Just as the impulse begins to take hold, fate intervenes and Paloma is called to the stage, leaving their moment suspended in anticipation.

“ Break a leg, palomita . ” He tells her, stepping back so she can make her way up the steps.

–––––––––––––––––––

It is both everything yet nothing she expected.

As she ascended the stage, she discerned a comforting familiarity: the typical audience size from her usual gigs back home. This recognition alone served as a balm to her nerves, reassuring her that she could handle it.

It felt decidedly manageable. Yet, as the performance progressed, the crowd swelled to such a density that individual faces blurred into an indistinguishable mass, a sea of humanity stretching before her.

With every fiber of her being, she poured herself into that performance, channeling raw emotion and passion into each note. This may very well be her first and last time gracing an event this grand, and she was determined to leave an indelible mark.

As the music swelled and her voice soared, she ignited a fire within the hearts of her audience, each chord resonating with an intensity that transcends mere sound. This wasn’t just a performance; it was a cathartic release, a showcase of her skills.

It is no surprise that the crowd was thoroughly charmed and entertained beyond measure.

As the final note faded into the night, she knew she’d given it her all, leaving nothing but her heart and soul on that stage.

She reaches the familiar backstage area where they had spent the entire afternoon, exuding palpable excitement and practically launching herself into Javier’s awaiting embrace. He catches her with ease, sensing the electrifying energy coursing through her as her arms wrap tightly around him in a warm hug. With her legs securely wrapped around his waist, he spins her around in a joyful twirl before gently lowering her back to the ground, their shared enthusiasm filling the air with an infectious energy.

“ You did so good, hermosa . ” Javier gazes warmly at her, his lips curved in a genuine smile.

“ That was so exhilarating, holy shit! ” The explicits fly from her lips and this only deepens his amusement, his heart warmed by her spirited expression.

“ Like, I almost blacked out out of excitement. ” Paloma inhales deeply, her chest expanding and contracting with each breath, her heart pounding so vigorously it feels as if it might leap from her chest at any moment.

The rest of the band gathers around, exchanging congratulations and warm embraces. Paloma takes a moment to express her heartfelt gratitude, her voice tinged with sentimentality as she thanks them for steadfastly supporting her seemingly silly musical aspirations.

“ Oh, that reminds me, ” She breaks away from the small group, strolling over to Javier's truck. Retrieving her purse, she rummages inside and retrieves a disposable camera she had brought along for the occasion. “ Can you take a picture of us? ” She asks with a gentle pout, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at Javier.

“ ‘Course.” Javi readily accepts the camera from her hand wordlessly and steps back to make sure they’re all in frame. He snaps the photo, the flash is blinding for the split second it appears before he hands her back the camera.

“ Gracias cowboy. ”

Her voice carries a delightful sweetness tinged with playful flirtation and a touch of eager anticipation that has him feeling like a lovestruck fool.

The band leaves to head back home, the sun now fully settled as Javier and Paloma remain. Their figures casually propped against his truck, casting a relaxed silhouette against the backdrop of the vibrant fair lights sprawled out before them.

“ We should get going–– ”

“ You're kidding, right? ” Paloma interrupts, leveraging herself off the hood of the truck with a fluid motion, positioning herself directly in his line of sight. Her hands find their place firmly on her hips, projecting an aura of assertiveness.

“ No…? ” He says unsurely, his gaze sweeping over her form from head to toe.

“ I haven’t been to the fair since I was a kid. I just have to ride one ride... and indulge in some fried goodness... and maybe try one of those tricky carnival games, ” She shares eagerly, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

She gazes at him with those bewitching eyes of hers, he silently curses himself for knowing he’ll give in.

“ I dunno, princesa , it’s getting pretty late… ” Fighting a fight he knows he’ll lose, he still moves forward with his opposition. The least desirable outcome from staying late would be facing an irate sheriff questioning why his daughter returned home in the dead of night instead of the earlier time she’d promised.

“ Oh don’t be such a stick in the mud. We’re allowed to have fun every once and a while. If it’s my daddy you're worried about; he’ll get over it. ” Paloma draws nearer to him, her hands delicately clasped behind her back, the enchanting fusion of her perfume and her innate scent enthralls him completely.

Javier can't help but surrender to her charm.

“ Fine . ”

A large smile spreads on her crimson tinted lips and she squeals, clapping her hands together before tugging him in the direction of the bustling fair.

–––––––––––––––––––

Their night out together comes with an unforeseen touch of spontaneity. The first thing Paloma does is drag him over to a food stand where she proceeds to order a funnel cake, fried oreos and two way too large lemonades.

“ Fried oreos? ” His nose scrunches at the idea which earns him a soft slap to the arm.

“ They are quite literally the best damn thing to ever be invented. ” She defends the unhealthy snack, reaching into her bag to pull out money to pay but Javier stops her before she gets the chance to.

As he smoothly glides a bill across the counter, Paloma feels a warm flush creep up her cheeks at the simple gesture. A flicker of uncertainty dances in her mind as she ponders the significance of this moment—is it possible that this is... a date?

No , certainly it isn’t. It’s an outing between two friends. He is just being a gentleman and paying for their food. No big deal, right?

In the quiet recesses of her mind, she revisits their flirty exchange shared just moments before she took the stage and the gentle display of affection that followed after her performance had concluded.

Don't overthink it, Paloma, just enjoy the moment.

So, she pushes all those thoughts aside as they patiently wait for their order.

“ I'll be the judge of that. ” He grumbles with his arms folded protectively across his chest.

Paloma finds herself entranced by the sight of him. His torso is adorned in a brightly colored blue shirt that accentuates his handsome features paired with jeans that cling to him sinfully tight. She marvels at how effortlessly he pulls off this 70s-inspired ensemble, a testament to his unique charm and allure. It’s just one more reason among many why she finds him so irresistibly attractive.

Their order number is called and they swiftly collect their things, moving over to an empty picnic table and sitting across from each other.

“ Alright, be prepared to have your mind blown. ” She plucks one of the golden-fried treats from the paper tray and slides the remainder enticingly across the table to him.

Javier eyes the dessert carefully before picking one up and observing it.

“ There is no way this is good for you. ” He remarks skeptically.

“ It's not supposed to be good for you it's supposed to taste good. ” Paloma counters, taking a bite and emitting a satisfied hum at the burst of flavor, “ If that's the case then you shouldn't smoke. There’s no way cigarettes are good for you . ” She mocks him, a playful glint in her eye as he scoffs in response.

Following her lead, he gingerly takes a bite, his brow furrowing at the unexpected taste.

“ Absolutely not, ” He declares, confirming his verdict with a decisive shake of his head.

“ Oh, you are so lame. ” They laugh and she drags the tray over to her side, “ Whatever, more for me. Just please don’t tell me you’re a funnel cake hater too. ” She plops another one into her mouth, her gaze fixated on him and eyes gleaming playfully.

“ Rest assured I’m not a funnel cake hater. It was my favorite growing up. Haven’t had one in ages. ” Now that, Javier easily snacks on as they seamlessly weave through conversations, trading tales of cherished childhood snacks.

Once they finish, he gathers their garbage and goes to dispose of it in a bin nearby. Upon his return to the table, his eyes sweep the surroundings, only to discover that they are no longer in solitude; a small group of individuals has gravitated towards Paloma, eager to engage her in conversation.

Amidst their conversation, he catches fragments of praise floating in the air, surmising that they must be members of the audience who had seen her perform not too long ago.

His suspicions are proven right once they leave and she turns to him with a bright smile.

“ Looks like I’m not your only groupie anymore. ”

“ Oh don't be jealous. You'll always be my favorite. ” As she rises from her seat to join him, he gently intercepts, his gaze fixating on a subtle trace of powdered sugar lingering at the corner of her lips.

“ Hold on… ” He murmurs, stepping closer to her, bringing his thumb up to his lips then wiping away at the spot.

A shiver dances down her spine, her breath catching in her throat as his seemingly simple gesture sends waves of arousal rippling through her. He is driving her crazy .

“ I–– thank you. ” She blushes, “ Oh man, that means I had a whole conversation with food on my face. ” Slightly embarrassed, she slaps her palm against her forehead and he chuckles at her.

“ There are worst things to be embarrassed over. ” He shrugs and she nods,“ So , what now miss I absolutely have to stay and enjoy the fair . ” Javier teases, as they begin to walk around the fairgrounds.

Paloma rolls her eyes, “ You're like an insufferable child. ” She can't help but comment, eyeing some of the rides until she spots the drop tower. “ Ooh, let's do that one. ” She practically races over to the large structure, leaving Javi behind.

“ Who's the child now? ” He murmurs to himself, trailing after her.

Standing in line together, they exchange playful jabs at the people around them in whispered tones. For the first time in a very long time, Javier finds himself genuinely laughing.

“ We have to get on the pendulum ride after this. Oh, and the gravitron. I also really like those spinny swings. ” As she rambles on about her beloved rides, his gaze lingers on her radiant beauty. Particularly since she’s adorned with an enchanting smile and enveloped in laughter. With each joyful expression, Javier feels a familiar tug at his heartstrings, the same irresistible pull he’s been steadfastly pushing aside since their very first encounter.

This is definitely more than just some sexual infatuation. The revelation that he harbors genuine feelings for Paloma weighs heavily in his chest. In that moment of clarity, he understands the need to consider stepping back, for the well-being of them both.

He doesn't want to hurt her.

But for tonight, Javier will let himself enjoy her company and everything that entails to. He grants himself this rare luxury under the guise that it’s for her sake.

“ You're ambitious tryin’ to get on all these rides, querida . Gonna end up puking all your precious fried oreos out. ” They’re at the front of the line now, and as Javier makes his remark, one of the exiting patrons from the ride hurls over and throws up in a nearby bin.

Both Javier and Paloma share a look before breaking out into a harmonious laugh. Paloma finds herself yearning to capture this perfect moment, to preserve its essence in the confines of a frame, forever etched in her memory.

“ Impeccable timing, vaquero . ” They board the ride together, sitting right next to one another and she swings her legs softly as the attendant comes around to make sure they're strapped in properly.

“ I’ve done a lotta dangerous shit in my life but riding one of these seems to be at the top of the list. ” Javier tells her as they begin their ascend to the top.

“ Don’t tell me a little fair ride is more dangerous than an armed drug dealer. ”

“ Drug dealers are predictable. Fair rides aren’t–– how can you actually trust somethin’ that’s disassembled, packed away then rebuilt elsewhere. How are you so sure they build it adequately each time? You’ve seen the people who run this. It’s sketchy. ”

“ Sounds like you're scared. Don't be scared, Javi. Here–– you can hold my hand. ” She extends her hand, reaching out to gently grasp his, intertwining their fingers and applying a tender squeeze. He's not scared he’s just wary, but feeling the weight of her hand in his is enough to fizzle those inconvenient thoughts away as they’re suspended in the air for what feels like forever before they finally drop.

Paloma releases a delighted squeal, erupting into a chorus of giggles as they reach the base of the ride. “ See? That wasn’t too bad. The ride didn’t collapse and we live to see another day. ” With a final squeeze, she relinquishes his hand and they get off the ride swiftly.

Similar scenarios unfold as they explore the other attractions; their banter punctuated by playful jabs at the people in line and Javier meticulously dissects the safety measures (or lack thereof) of each attraction. Despite his scrutiny, he finds himself thoroughly enjoying the experience alongside Paloma.

As they stroll through the carnival game section, Javier’s eyes light up as he catches sight of a tacky looking plush snake, swiftly diverting Paloma’s attention towards it.

“ Isn't that your favorite thing in the world? ” He teases, feigning curiosity, earning an eye roll from Paloma as she playfully pinches his forearm.

“ Not a fan of real snakes and reptiles, you goof, ” She retorts with a grin. “ But I’ve got nothing against a cute little stuffed animal like that. ”

“ Do you want it? ” He asks, gravitating towards the stand and she follows.

“ What, are you gonna win it for me? ” She questions with a flirtatious lilt, twirling a lock of her hair as she raises her eyebrows, a playful sparkle dancing in her chocolate brown eyes.

“ I will, if you want it. ”

“ If I want it that means you have to win it. And you know what they say about these games… ”

Their banter continues as they approach the stand. Javier reads that it’s a baseball toss bottle game and he smiles cockily.

“ What do they say? ”

“ They're rigged and impossible to win. ”

“ Well lucky for you, nena , I've got the best arm in Laredo. ”

Paloma’s interest is piqued, her head tilting slightly as she observes him. “ You play baseball? ” She asks, her tone curious and attentive.

Javier hands over payment to the teenager tending to the stand, effortlessly cradling three baseballs in one hand. This has Paloma licking her lips.

Her gaze is drawn to the rugged contours and sinewy strength, imagining the delicious weight of them against her skin. There's an electric charge in the air, sending shivers of anticipation cascading down her spine.

“ I did. All the way through college. ” Oh she can see him now, clad in those tight baseball uniforms. She bets his ass looks amazing in the pants.

“ The more you know. ” She muses, “ But that was like, all the way back when baseball was first invented. ” She patronizes him, never getting tired of making jokes about his age.

“ Ha, ha. So funny and original. ”

“ Alright darlin’ enough yappin’, let's see Laredo’s best . ” She's fully expecting him to fumble, honestly.

Javier rolls his shoulders, stretching his arms, and Paloma's eyes linger on the way his shirt molds to his defined muscles with each movement. His broad shoulders and flexing biceps command her attention as he effortlessly pulls his arm back and throws the ball with graceful ease.

In one fluid motion, he knocks down all the bottles.

A satisfied smirk graces his lips as he turns to meet Paloma's gaze.

“ Told you. ”

She lets out a low whistle, clapping her hands together in a slow applause. “ Alright, I stand corrected. ” she admits with a smile.

The worker hands Javier the stuffed animal, and he extends it towards her.

“ For you. ”

“ Such a gentleman. ” She murmurs softly, pulling the prize close to her chest. The sight of her holding it with such tenderness is one that will linger in his memory for days to come.

“ Oh shit. ” She begins, a hint of dismay in her tone, but his concern melts away as she retrieves her camera from her bag. “ Forgot to take more pictures. Do you mind gettin’ one with me? ” There's a hint of shyness in her request, and he shakes his head.

“ Don’t mind at all, cariño . ” He assures her with a warm smile.

She returns his smile and proceeds to ask the teenager at the stand to take their photo, who obliges, undoubtedly persuaded by her beauty.

“ Alright we’ll do a smiley one then a silly one. ” She suggests, stepping back to Javier's side and leaning against him, her eyes sparkling as they prepare to capture the moment.

He doesn’t pose, instead, he gazes at her admiringly, wondering how he’ll summon the courage to distance himself from her after tonight.

Paloma tilts her head to meet his gaze after the photos are taken, mirroring the affection in his eyes before stepping away to retrieve her camera.

Javier clears his throat, the sound breaking the carnival’s cheerful din as he glances down at his watch. The hands inch towards midnight, a reminder of the impending end to their evening. “ Los tenemos que ir (we have to go), ” He says softly, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance.

She pouts slightly, pursing her bottom lip.“ One more ride, please Javi. We didn’t get on the ferris wheel. ”

As he’s done all night, Javier acquiesces, unable to resist her earnest plea. “ You are a very persistent and spoiled little thing, ” He remarks, a fondness lacing his words. Her playful smile transforms into a devious smirk at his observation.

“ Thank you. ” She replies, gaze coated with mischief.

The bench-style seating on the ferris wheel feels snug, their bodies nestled close together as the metal bar rests across their laps.

Despite the attendant’s insistence that she couldn’t bring it on the ride, Paloma clung to the plush snake he’d won for her as she (politely) told him to fuck off.

At first, silence envelops them, the rhythmic creaking of the wheel the only sound as they ascend to the pinnacle of the ride. Lost in their own thoughts, they share a quiet intimacy, their hearts beating in synchrony.

The fair lights twinkle and sway, casting an enchanting glow upon Paloma’s face. In that moment, bathed in the ethereal illumination, her beauty is magnified.

“ What's goin' on inside that pretty head of yours? ” Javier breaks the quiet between them, and she turns her head to meet his gaze.

“ Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a while... and you’re part of the reason. ” She confesses, her voice sincere, melting the barriers he’s long held onto.

“ It has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you, palomita . ” He responds, his arm draped along the back of their seat. Unable to resist, she leans in closer, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

His smell envelops her, intoxicating her senses as she inhales the earthy musk of his cologne mingled with a hint of sweetness from their shared meal earlier.

“ I mean it, Javi. Ever since you came to Seminary my life has been a lot more… fun . ” She tells him earnestly, her voice barely above a whisper. Their proximity is electric, teetering on the edge of temptation, and her words only add fuel to the fire.

Her name escapes his lips like a solemn prayer, a gentle reminder of the boundaries they’re dancing dangerously close to. Their lips barely graze each other, his mustache tickling the sensitive skin above her lip, a silent testament to the unspoken desires lingering between them.

Suddenly, the ride lurches with an unexpected jolt, shattering the tender moment between them. Paloma swiftly withdraws, seeking whatever space their cramped confines afford her, her fingers clenching the metal bar for stability.

“ Told you I didn't trust these damn things. ” He mutters, his palm clammy as he rubs it against the coarse denim of his jeans. His throat tightens with a heavy swallow, the memory of their fleeting moment lingering in his mind like a fading dream.

Silence cloaks them like a heavy blanket for the remainder of the ride and even as they walk side by side to his truck.

No words pass between them.

Paloma leans against the window, mirroring her posture from the ride up, exhaustion seeping into her bones after the long day. She resists the urge to dwell on the events of the evening with Javier, instead surrendering to the pull of sleep. Her eyelids flutter closed, and soon, she drifts unconscious.

Javier steals a sideways glance at her, strands of hair cascading over her features like a veil. Amidst the quiet hum of the car, he catches the faint melody of her soft snores.

His shoulders slump in resignation as he replays their moment on the ferris wheel in his mind, each iteration leaving him more conflicted than before. Would they have shared a kiss if not for the technical issue?

He wants to believe they wouldn’t have; that he would have had the strength to pull away before it was too late. But the enticement of her lips, the desire to taste her, lingers in his thoughts like an unshakeable temptation.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he wrestles with his inner turmoil for the duration of the journey back to Seminary.

–––––––––––––––––––

“ I'm still so upset I couldn’t go. It woulda been so fun. ” Sloane remarks from her spot on Paloma’s bed, idly flipping through a magazine while her friend meticulously applies nail polish.

Days have passed since the state fair, leaving Paloma and Javier in an awkward limbo. She despises the distance that has grown between them. How could she have been so foolish as to ruin their night by coming off as strong as she had? Everything had been going perfectly until then. Had she scared him off? Was his silence a sign of disinterest?

It's all so fucking confusing.

“ Uh, hello. Earth to Paloma. ” Slo snaps her fingers and this gets her attention, looking up from her hand to meet her friend's gaze.

“ Sorry, I wish you coulda been there too. ” She gives her a tight lipped smile and this has Sloane narrowing her eyes at her.

“ Alright, spill. What happened? ”

She snorts, shaking her head and returning to the task at hand. “ Nothin’ happened. ”

“ Lie to somebody who doesn’t know you. ” She shifts from her spot on the mattress, sprawling herself on the floor in front of Paloma.

She eyes her friend briefly before letting out a sigh and twisting the cap on the polish. “ Fine. I think I fucked things up between me and Javier. ”

That was certainly not what Sloane was expecting her to admit, but she’s intrigued nevertheless and she turns to lay on her side, head in her hand and elbow propping her up.

“ Don't tell me you slept with him. ”

Paloma's face flushes, despite having a plethora of erotic dreams starring the man in question, “ Wha–– No. I didn’t. Jesus… ” She mutters, attempting to blow the polish on her right hand dry. “ We actually had a great night. ” She can't help the small smile that plays on her lips at the remembrance of said night.

“ Okay… ” Sloane urges her to continue, “ For a songwriter you sure are a shit storyteller. ”

Paloma flips her off and Slo blows her a kiss, “ Things between us have always been flirty. It was fun at first, exhilaratin’ and what not. Then… feelings started developin’. I like him, Slo. Like him like him. ” It's the first time she's said this outloud and the confession has her feeling lightheaded.

“ Awe, my baby is growin’ up. She's got a crush. ” Her friend teases, poking at her exposed calf.

“ Yeah, well, I don’t even know if he feels the same way. I mean, at first I thought he did then I… we almost kissed on the ferris wheel and he hasn't talked to me since. ”

Sloane flashes her a sympathetic stare, “ Well he’s an idiot for not kissin’ you. Let’s start there. ” She sits upright, matching Paloma's stance, “ Are you really surprised? Not to burst your little schoolgirl crush bubble but it’s obvious what typa man he is. Flirty, handsome, charismatic. Sex on legs –– a long trail of broken hearts follow that man. C'mon, baby, you must know this. ”

Paloma is keenly aware of his reputation as a charming playboy, a fact that’s far from concealed. Now, she’s flooded with feelings of foolishness and embarrassment for how she had openly pursued him. It was almost inevitable; of course, he would reciprocate her advances. After all, what man could resist when a beautiful woman is vying for his attention?

The thought that he might have lost interest gnaws at her, causing an ache in her chest. Aside from all the romantic stuff, she genuinely enjoyed his company.

She chooses not to dwell further on the topic, and her friend seems to pick up on her reluctance.

In a sudden twist of conversation, Sloane announces, “ Guess who has a house now. ” Paloma’s attention perks up in surprise.

“ What, really? Since when? ” From what she knows, Sloane and a few others have been living long term at the only motel in town. They hadn’t intended on staying in Seminary very long which is why Paloma had gotten her the job at the bar in the first place, so she could save up some money to keep trekking.

Hearing that she now has an actual place to call home brings nothing but joy and excitement for her friend.

“ Since a few days ago. We've been so damn busy that I haven’t been able to tell you. Completely unexpected, too. Apparently some broad August used to know finally croaked and she left him with her entire estate. ”

Paloma's eyes widen at the news, “ Jeez, talk about impeccable timing. I'm glad y'all got it worked out. Now you’re stuck here with me. ” She jests, “ When can I visit? ”

Sloane taps the tip of her chin, “ What about tomorrow? It's about an hour drive from here–– ”

“ An hour?! ” Paloma interjects, incredulous.

“ –– and it’s beautiful . You’d love it. Don’t get hung up on somethin’ as trivial as travel time . ”

Sloane’s right, outside from the hub in town; their residence is situated in a predominantly rural expanse, making lengthy travel times like that unusual. And with her car now up and running, Paloma has a newfound sense of freedom to explore beyond their immediate surroundings.

“ Fine, tomorrow sounds good. You can stay the night and I’ll drive you there in the morning. ” She offers, prompting Sloane to break out into a giant grin.

#pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña narcos #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #javier peña #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña x ofc #preachers daughter #ethel cain #southern gothic fic

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the-ellia-west · 5 months

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6 notes is good enough - TCOT Synopsis

Kasi is an Outlander. That means she lives outside of any city, and her life is centered more around work than comfort. So when she's invited to a party, she is expectedly suspicious. But for her parents who were invited to a more important event, this is an opportunity they cannot lose. With her twin brother Xhaazi stuck at home with an illness he refuses to acknowledge, Kasi knows she has to go without the support of the family she has relied on her entire life. When she arrives, she is relieved to find she is not entirely alone. Her best friend Chrin has also been invited to this strange party. But soon after the two begin to enjoy this event usually reserved for the higher class, a mysterious figure drops onto the scene. No one recognizes the man until he pulls out a weapon many recognize.

By that point, only Kasi and Chrin are left in the dark until someone shouts the name they've only read about in the papers. A murderer. Adllsais. After that, chaos ensues in several other freak accidents involving all three outlanders which drives them far away from their home and eventually out into the wild world they've never had the chance to explore, exposing them to dangers they don't have the resources to defeat. So the three are grateful when they find a man who calls himself River who seems to be willing to help them. But things just seem to get worse as he abandons them on a beach with minimal supplies and a message warning them not to return home. So, with nowhere else to go, the three decide to try and find a city. But on their way, they run into two runaway creatures of a species which have adopted the name of Shades. The two Shades, Sokuna and her young Daughter Mouse, ask our three heroes if they would like to help them start a rebellion. Rather done with being pushed around and deciding to heed River's strange warning, they agree to help and make friends with the two shades, gaining protection while also digging themselves deeper into their own graves.

But where there are friends, there are also enemies. Those enemies take the form of a strange army, which Sokuna and Mouse hate so much, and a cursed Assassin bound to the army by a promise. Desperate to be free of the curse that has tortured him for the past fifteen years, Marril ends up willing to do nearly everything to regain his freedom, which sets him on a path to kill an important Noblewoman. While on the other side of the villainous coin, we have three members of the army. The second in command Tias who is cruel and cold, Tias' short-time partner Kila who will work herself to death to prove a point, and Viasaki who is plagued by thousands of voices who urge him to surrender control of his mind to some mysterious entity.

While the world crumbles around them, our beloved heroes must learn to see the flaws in their shattered home. They will travel far from home and some will even forget what they came for. On their journey to find the truth every single one of them will fight not only to save themselves but also their broken world, and they will all discover threats brewing beneath the surface which hold secrets that could topple nations.

[Learn more about TCOT (The Cursed One's Throne) in my Profile/Blog]

#creative writing #fiction writing #writing community #writer things #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #write #writers and poets #writerslife #i wrote something #i wrote this #i write #i wrote it #i wrote some words #synopsis #synopsis of TCOT #The cursed One's Throne

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dottores-harness · 1 year

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Blood Colored

Genre: Smut

Ship: DottoLumi

Warnings: Smut, Wax play, Light bondage (Her hands are tied)

Word Count: 2827

Summary: Dottore tries a little experiment in wax play with his Lumine.

====================

Lumine wiggles her wrists only to come to the same conclusion she had already come to. The bindings were tight; inescapable. Currently, both of her arms were stretched above her head and bound to the headboard. Her bare body shone in the orange and yellow light cast by the fireplace. She raises her head to confirm she is still by herself. Dottore had left shortly after binding her at least an hour prior. She is going to lose her mind from the suspense alone.

She still isn’t sure how she got herself into this mess. Dottore had captured her in the Hadramaveth desert shortly after they had managed to free Nahida from the Akademiya’s clutches. Lumine and Paimon had got separated in a nasty sandstorm in the process of tracking a group of Treasure Hoarders. The Doctor had found and personally blindsided her, capturing her almost effortlessly. He had kept her locked up here in his lab ever since.

In her time here, she had discovered that Dottore was surprisingly insatiable. Had you asked her what she thought of Dottore’s sexual habits in the past, she might have said he was celibate. Living only for his Science and Technology. And live for it he did…The man loved his experiments, and that extended to their relationship. She honestly still didn’t know what they were to each other. Was she still just another of his test subjects? He spent more time with her than the others, she reasoned.

‘Am I more?’

Lumine starts as the door on the left creaks open and Dottore saunters into the room carrying two red pillar candles. He approaches the Traveler and stops once he reaches the nightstand. The man lights each candle with a small book of matches before setting them on the table.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, Darling.”

“I know you did it on purpose. I’m not stupid.”

“Oh? And why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a sadistic bastard. You have kept me locked up here for months!”

“I know. And you will remain mine until you've served your purpose.”

“Until I’ve served my purpose. …What happens then?”

“I am unsure. That should be left to the judgment of the hypothetical me confronted with that particular outcome.”

Lumine scoffed “I’m never going to stop trying to escape.”

“Given enough time, I believe you will. I have been studying you closely ever since your arrival, and I see how easily you succumb to me.” He smirked and carded his fingers through her hair.

Lumine grits her teeth and jerks her head away from him. She hates to admit it, but he is right. There is just something about this man in particular that she finds incredibly difficult to resist. ...and it both disgusts and fills her with excitement. She should not feel this way…but yet...she does.

“It's okay my dear. I know you hate me but…you're just too much fun to pass up. Besides, you are quite valuable and I have learned quite a bit studying you thus far.”

She did hate him. Right? She should. This line of conversation was making her uncomfortable. Lumine turned her head away so she didn’t have to look at him and pulled halfheartedly on her restraints. Changing the subject, she speaks up.

“My shoulders hurt.”

“Do they? I promise you will forget about it very soon.” The Harbinger chuckles flashing his sharp teeth at the Traveler.

“What are you going to do?”

“You will see. Darling…look at me.”

Slowly she does as the man asks. As soon as the woman’s eyes are on him, he plucks the mask from his face. Lumine always makes the same expression, and he loves seeing it. Dottore is no fool. He knows he is a handsome man, even with the scars crisscrossing his body. It’s just not something he generally puts a lot of pride into, preferring feats of the mind. …but seeing her reaction was always worth it. Her lips would pout just so. A light blush would dust her cheeks and the pupils of those golden eyes dilated. He chuckles darkly as he begins to undress. With each piece of clothing removed, he can swear her eyes dilate further. It is so adorable.

Lumine licks her lips as her eyes slide down his naked body. It is really unfair how fit he is. The man spent almost all of his time in a lab but his body is lean and well-toned. She wonders how he keeps any kind of muscle mass. After what feels like an eternity to her, Dottore crawls onto the bed and over to her prone body.

“Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.” The man begins to kiss her collarbone, trailing kisses up her neck and nibbling on her earlobe. “Soon you won't be able to remember any of this unpleasantness. You'll just remember how good we felt together.”

Lumine sighed and tilted her head to the side to give him better access. The Harbinger is skilled in so many ways; this is just another one. He sensually licks back down her neck passing her collarbone and stopping at her breasts. The man takes them in his large hands and squeezes the flesh together. Chuckling, he presses his face between them and inhales deeply, enjoying the smell of her.

“You're so beautiful, my Darling. Your skin is like honey and you smell divine. I love this scent...so warm and inviting.”

Lumine can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to her skin and circles her right nipple with his tongue sucking it into his mouth. He begins to leisurely suck on the buds and roll them between his teeth, giving equal attention to both. The woman flinches slightly and gasps at the sensations he is inflicting her with. Dottore’s teeth are sharp. He is never truly gentle, but she finds that she loves it this way. She doesn’t hate the sensation. It is both painful and beautifully stimulating. The Traveler shivers with each swipe of his tongue against her skin and moans as he plays with her.

Suddenly, he moves away from her breasts and looks down at her with an evil grin. “Let's get you nice and warmed up.”

The man leans toward the table and snatches up one of the candles. Lumine’s eyes widen.

“You asked what we are going to do. We are going to test the limits of your sensitivity with a new kind of stimulation. Wax.”

“Dottore, I…”

“Shhh. You’ll love it.” And with that, he tilted the candle just enough to allow the heated wax to pour from the tip and fall.

She looks down her body at the man as he tilted the candle. As it splashes against her skin, she winces and watches as the skin blooms pink from the heat. It is hot but, not unbearable. The wax creates a sort of itching fuzzy sensation across her skin and awakens feelings in her she hasn't realized she possessed. It is a new, but not unwelcome feeling. Lumine gasps as more wax spills from the candle and drips onto her sternum. Slowly it trails down her stomach pooling under her belly button and creating a puddle before it begins to harden.

“How does it feel?”

“It’s…different. But not…bad…”

The Harbinger smirks at her response. “...and what a beautiful blood color.” The man spills more wax across her stomach and she shivers in anticipation of what is to come.

Lumine wiggles underneath him and yanks on her hands trying to get free so she can touch him. She wants to feel his skin too but he simply grins at her efforts. The man likes keeping her bound while they play. Getting this man to surrender control was like pulling teeth. The Traveler growls in frustration and thrashes harder.

“You're quite a handful, aren't you? But you're such a delightfully stubborn little girl. …I think I'll keep you for myself after all.”

His ruby eyes twinkle as he stares at her, waiting for her response. When she doesn't say anything, he reaches around and pulls her legs apart, settling himself between them. He drags her lower half into his lap, leaving her back still resting against the bed. With one hand he holds the candle close to her chest and drips wax directly onto her left nipple, causing it to grow hard and even more sensitive. With the other hand, he pinches her other nipple and watches her writhe beneath him. Lumine’s breathing quickens and she whimpers loudly.

“It feels so good Dottore. Please...I….” She is unsure exactly what she wants.

Dottore smirks at her words and gives her a light kiss on the lips, nipping them as he pulls away. “Did you forget your words?”

Lumine groans and turns her head to the side once more closing her eyes. “I…just…more please.”

“Of course my dear.” She can hear the laughter in his voice.

Rather than see the smug look on his face, Lumine keeps her eyes closed and just allows the sensations to wash over her. Heat blooms across her collarbone and trails down to her breasts where he takes extra care to stimulate both nipples. She bit her lip. The woman can feel herself getting wet as he covers her skin in more and more wax. The heat moves from her breasts to her sternum and trails lower and lower.

Suddenly she can feel his free hand as he parts her and moments later a searing delicious heat blooms across her clit. Lumine can’t help it, her eyes fly open and she cries out in response.

The Doctor laughs and leans down to give her another kiss. As he does, he pours more wax onto her pussy, causing it to swell from the stimulation. When he breaks off the kiss, he winks at her. The man leans back once more and slides a finger inside her, slowly beginning to thrust in and out. As he continues to tease her with the candle, her thoughts begin to fade.

“You're quite wet my dear. It seems you’re enjoying our little game.”

All of the stimulation is beginning to get to her and she moans as he slips a second finger into her cavern. The drag of his fingers inside of her and the blooming heat on her skin is already driving her up the wall. She looks down at herself and gasps at the view. Her skin is covered in vibrant splashes of red. If she didn’t already know better, she would think it was blood.

As he continues to tease her, she lets her head fall back on the pillow. She can feel that coil deep inside of her winding up. Lumine allows a long sigh to escape her lips.

‘Not long now.’

His fingers move expertly, thrusting and curling into the perfect spots. The man works her, carefully stoking her flames higher. He knows her body better than she does at this point. Dottore has spent so much time studying her. Leaning to the side, he places the still-burning candle on the nightstand. Now with his hand free he moves it back and begins to circle her clit with his thumb. Wax cracks and falls away as he teases her.

Lumine is on cloud nine by this point. And she thrusts her hips up to meet his hands, chasing after her orgasm. She squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth. It is coming, she can feel it. Gasping she gyrates her hips in his lap.

Abruptly his hands leave her and she jerks violently in shock. “No! Dottore, Why?”

“Oh Darling, you know better than that.”

A sob escapes her lips. Yes, she did know. She should have expected it.

The man sits on his knees and lifts her lower half to position her so he could better enter her. Laughing, he takes his dick in his left hand and teases her entrance. Using his right thumb he makes sure to stimulate her clit just enough to keep her on the precipice. He won’t let her fall until he is ready. And he just sits like that. This slow torture goes on for what feels like an eternity to Lumine. In her current stupor, she honestly isn’t sure how long it lasted. But she does know it was too long. She often wonders how he has the will to do this. The man does this every time.

Finally, he relents and adjusts her hips before lining up with her entrance.

“Yes…!” Lumine hisses as he begins to sink into her inch by inch. She tries to thrust up to meet him but his hands are like iron holding her steady. Hearing her low hiss, the man shoots her a sharp-toothed smirk as he slides to his base. He stills to allow her some time to adjust to his size.

This is one of his few mercies. With their size differences, he can just about rip her in half. Dottore is surprisingly good at taking care of his toys. The ones he wanted to keep around anyway.

As Lumine begins to relax, the Harbinger starts to thrust at a brisk pace. The man looms over her tiny frame. With each thrust, her body jars, and her breasts bounce. Moaning, he leans in and begins to nibble and lick the skin at the base of her neck.

The woman tilts her head to give him more access and he gladly takes it. Raking his teeth along her carotid before biting down on the skin just below her right ear. It is one of his favorite spots to mark her. It is very visible and impossible to hide with her clothes. Even tying her scarf further up her neck refused to hide it completely. Thus, everyone in the lab knew who she belonged to and walked on eggshells around her. She hates the display but It did give her a modicum of privacy, which she appreciates.

She can feel the blood trickling down her neck from the wound as he begins to lap it up. The air is cool against the trails of saliva on her skin. It is almost shocking in comparison to the heat her body radiates. His tongue and teeth continue to glide across her soft skin. He stops occasionally to leave bright love bites all along her collar, shoulders, and breasts. The more he marks her, the happier he seems to be.

Blue hair is stuck to the sweat of his neck and face and his earring swings as he moves. Dottore begins to pick up the pace pounding into her brutally. Broken moans are forced from her throat with each powerful thrust. The room is filled with the sounds of sex.

Lumine knows she won’t be able to walk in the morning. She begins to quake from all of the stimulation. The coil inside has wound so tight now…and her vision is fading again. The world around her is a blur of orange, yellow, and blue light. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall with each jar of her body. She can feel him, every inch of him surrounding her and inside of her. It is overwhelming. Before too much longer, she feels the first twitches of his dick, indicating he is close. Once more, she tries to thrust to meet him but he holds her still, denying her.

“Dottore!”

“Shhhh. Just take it.”

She has no choice. The man continues to pound her into the mattress. Waves of pleasure crash over her in ever-increasing frequency. The woman squeezes her eyes shut. Her vision has long since tunneled. All she can see is the golden glow of his skin and that swinging blue light.

The man shifts, laying Lumine completely on the mattress before placing his hands on either side of her as he continues to thrust at a new angle. She arches into him. It is to much.

“A-Ah. D-Dottore, I can’t…I…”

The coil snaps and her world explodes. White blooms behind her eyelids and a powerful wave of pleasure crashed over her forcing a sob of bliss from her lips. The Harbinger above her freezes as his own orgasm arrives. He thrusts as deep as he can and a deep guttural moan rips from his throat. She can feel the heat from his seed painting her insides and it pushes her over the edge again. Crying out, she yanks on her restraints so hard that the headboard cracks. The man collapses on top of her with a sigh and just lays there, spent.

After a moment, Lumine shifts uncomfortably. The man is heavy.

Sensing her distress, the Harbinger rolls off of her and onto his back by her side.

“I knew you would love it.”

“Screw you.”

“Oh trust me, there is more to come. Both candles still burn.”

Lumine groans. “My shoulders still hurt.”

#Dottore #Il dottore #genshin dottore #Dottore smut #Lumine #Dottolumi #Genshin The Traveler #Smut #Genshin Impact #Dottore fanfiction #Lumine Fanfiction #Fanfiction #video games

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angelshizuka · 1 year

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Frozen 3 Story idea. “Frozen 3: 22 years later” is set 22 years after the 1st movie. Not long after Frozen 2, Elsa suffered what happens to all 5th spirits by getting bound to Ahtohallan with a curse. The spirits cursed her(the spirits see it as a bit of a blessing), which caused her to get stranded on the island of Ahtohallan, and to start to forget about her life prior to having accepted the role of 5th spirit. It also caused her to be unable to physically age, her skin to turn blue and her hair to turn black.

Elsa’s sister Anna has two 18-year-old daughters, Gerda and Karen. Gerda is fascinated by the story of when Anna saved Elsa during the eternal winter(aka the events of Frozen 1) and wants to write a very unbiased account of what happened. She likes collecting items like newspaper clippings that relate to the events of Frozen 1. She wants to hear Hans side of the story, but she can’t because Hans disappeared not long after the events of Frozen. Karen, on the other hand, is fascinated by the story of how Elsa saved Arendelle from being flooded(aka the events of Frozen 2). Only Gerda, not Karen, has seen her Aunt, and that’s because Gerda has ice powers which allow her to endure the coldness of Ahtohallan, but she doesn't have the power to create life like Elsa does. She’s seen Elsa once and she barely survived that time because Ahtohallan was so cold even for her, which caused her family much trauma. She’s the main character of Frozen 3, and she spends most of the movie looking for Maui's fishhook in order to get the spirits to free her Aunt from both the curse and her role as the 5th spirit. Gerda learned some things about the fishhook from Bulda, including that in order to grant ETERNITY to Elsa she must feed the 4 fish using the fishhook. The pieces of the fishhook spell ETERNITY. The fishhook magically enables immaterial spirits to gain the power of human speech. Once the 4 spirits possess this power, they will no longer have any need for a 5th spirit and Elsa will be free. But Gerda needs to find the fishhook quickly otherwise Elsa will soon turn into an ice statue before shattering into shards and becoming part of Ahtohallan like the other 5th Spirits.

Gerda disobeys her mother by sneaking away to search for the fishhook. The magic of the fishhook can only be used once every 100 years. Anna initially tries to stop Gerda from leaving, but she relents when Gerda reminds her of when she herself left to save Elsa. While sailing, her ship is attacked by undead sailors lead by Euron. Euron slaughters her crew and consumes their blood, but Gerda uses her powers to escape and flee to Weselton. Euron realizes that Gerda is looking for the fishhook when he finds Gerda’s notebook. Meanwhile, Captain Hans runs out of grog to give to his crew and he fears a mutiny when he hears his crew grumbling about it. In Weselton, Gerda foils Captain Hans from stealing from a brewery using her ice powers, but instead of thanking her, the people of Weselton accuse her of being a witch and lock her up with Hans. The two of them are about to be publicly executed when Hans' nephew Kai uses fireworks to distract the guards and rescues them with the help of the other members of Hans' pirate crew, but one of the members of the crew knocks Gerda out from behind her. At first Hans contemplates using Gerda as a hostage, but she persuades Hans to help her find the fishhook after she promises she will provide Kai with a comfortable life in Arendelle if he helps her. Gerda comes aboard his pirate ship “The Throwaway” in order to find the island where the fishhook is hidden. The Throwaway was once a slave ship called The Dark One.

Shortly after Frozen, Hans and his brother Lars worked as privateers on a ship run by slaves. Hans led a mutiny on the slave ship and became a pirate, before fleeing to Neverland(a place where nobody ages) for a time, and that’s why he hasn’t aged much in Frozen 3. Hans has a “bastard” nephew with him called Kai. Kai is the son of Prince Lars, and he was a slave on a slave ship until Hans led the mutiny. Hans was ordered to whip Kai to death, and Hans reluctantly agreed to that order despite Lars’ protests. Hans whipped Kai 12 times before he threw down his whip and instigated the mutiny. Euron fires a cannonball at Hans from a nearby ship, but Lars dives in front of Hans and is struck instead. Before Lars dies, he makes Hans promise to take care of Kai so that Kai may become a better man than either of them. Kai and Gerda fall in love with each other over the course of the movie. Gerda first asks Hans to sail to her ship to find her journal, which Hans is very reluctant to do so because that ship had just been attacked, but he relents when Gerda promises him that no one will get hurt.

The main villain of Frozen 3 is Euron, Hans’ father and former King of the Southern Isles and the person Hans fears the most because he’s responsible for Lars’ death. Prince Caleb,1st born son of Euron is one of the villains serving under Euron, and Caleb is one of the people Hans fears. Caleb wants his curse to be broken so he can return to his wife and children. Euron captains his own ship and has a bag that's bigger on the inside. It's filled with things like magic carpets, magic beans, and poisoned apples. Shortly after Frozen, when Hans stole a slave ship, Euron sailed after him. Hans tricked Euron into crashing his ship into rocks situated right off the coast of the cursed Island of Shattered Shards. Euron and his crew get cursed by the island into becoming undead beings who need fresh human blood to survive. Euron lost everything including his authority over the Southern Isles because of what Hans did and he gets filled with an intense rage. Euron ends up going after the fishhook in order to use its power to curse the Southern Isles army into becoming undead warriors, but he deceives his crew into thinking he wants it in order to undo their curses. His crew, led by a furious Caleb, turn against him and grab hold of him when they find out the truth, and they sacrifice themselves to destroy Euron once and for all, but not before Euron stabs Hans with a poisoned blade. Gerda and the rest of her crew escape with the fishhook on a small rowboat, but they have no ship because their pirate ship has been sunk. Kai wants Hans to use the magic of the fishhook to save himself, but Hans chooses not to because he thinks the magic needs to be used to save Elsa because Elsa's suffering is greater. Kristoff plays the role of an antagonist for most of the movie. He doesn’t approve of people talking about Elsa because it brings back sad memories. By the time of Frozen 3, he’s lost all hope of Elsa ever coming back and is determined to stop Gerda from wasting her time looking for the fishhook. He doesn’t approve of Anna allowing Gerda to leave Arendelle, so he goes after her on a small ship. Kristoff saves Gerda and the others after he sees them on the rowboat. Gerda persuades him to heal Hans using troll medicine. Gerda tells Kristoff that she needs to get to Ahtohallan and bring the fishhook with her as fast as she can, but Kristoff says it’s too dangerous because she nearly got killed the last time she went to Ahtohallan. But he reluctantly changes his mind when Hans remarks that no one, including Hans himself, can stop Gerda from doing whatever it takes to save her aunt.

After Hans is healed, Gerda runs across the sea to get to Ahtohallan with the fishhook in an attempt to find Elsa before it's too late, unaware that she is being followed by Euron, who survived when his crewmembers attacked him. When she enters Ahtohallan, he follows her into the glacier. When she finds Elsa, she finds out that Elsa’s almost completely frozen. She manages to call the spirits towards her, but they don’t uncurse Elsa because they’re unable to absorb the fishhook’s magic. Gerda is about to leave Ahtohallan when she figures out what Bulda meant. Gerda must break the fishhook so the spirits can fully absorb its magic. Euron attempts to stop Gerda from doing this, saying that she’s stupid to give the fishhook’s magic to the spirits instead of taking it for herself, and that with all that power she can secure everything else. Gerda is almost persuaded by Euron, but she still breaks the fishhook. Furiously, Euron attacks Gerda and he even overpowers her. He’s about to break her neck when Elsa thaws and destroys Euron once and for all with the help of the 4 spirits. Suddenly, Ahtohallan begins to shake and slowly sink into the sea because the 4 spirits no longer need a 5th spirit now that they have what they desire, which means no human being need ever enter Ahtohallan again. Elsa and Gerda struggle to escape. Hans sees Ahtohallan sinking and sails towards it. Later, Anna looks out the window of her castle and sees one of her royal ships. Hans gets off the ship and he gets tied up by her guards just as he’s about to speak. He’s about to be thrown into the dungeons when Elsa, Kristoff, and Gerda appear. Hans gets forgiven for his past crimes after helping bring Elsa home and he settles down in Arendelle with Kai, taking a job as a servant in Arendelle castle. Elsa retires from the role of 5th Spirit and keeps her powers. Sitron, who is Hans’ mare, is also in the movie, and she helps save Hans in Weselton. Kai starts shipping Hans and Elsa the moment he sees them. Hans finds this a bit creepy.

Also, scenes like the charade scene are referenced in the movie. Hans hears from Gerda that Elsa said he's an "unredeemable monster" and he's somewhat sad because he'd prefer the term "scoundrel". The snowball scene in Frozen Fever is also referenced. Hans thought the snowball was the result of his brothers trying to gaslight him into thinking Elsa was trying to kill him.

I'm just gonna be honest here...

I gave up reading all this after a few paragraphs. I find reading long things hard enough as it is (ADHD and visual impairement be like that) and I really wasn't vibing with this.

You already lost me at "set 22 years after the 1st movie" (a time skip that big just wouldn't make any sense) and you definitely weren't getting me back with "[Gerda's] the main character of Frozen 3" (Elsa being the main character in F2 was already bad enough, just give me back Anna who's her own person and not just "Elsa's sister") and when you mentioned Maui's hook I just stopped reading all together (can people please learn the difference between easter eggs and actual crossovers...)

Also, Anna having kids with ice powers is literally one of my most hated ideas for any future Frozen content, and that's saying a lot, because there are so many ideas I hate. For the love of god, not everything Anna does (or makes in this case) has to relate back to Elsa and her powers!?

As someone who already hates F2 because of how fanfic-y it feels with how much they changed the entire vibe of the Frozen universe and how much they retconned everything the original movie stood for, this just takes it to a whole other level and basically garuantees I'll hate F3.

I'm sorry for being so negative, but I saw you sent this to countless other blogs, so I'm sure you've gotten some positive reactions, I just unfortunately can't give you one.

#I'm just gonna give a fair warning I'm not at all in the mood to argue with people about this #probably not the best idea to answer this at 8AM after just coming out of a hyperfocus but whatever...#disney frozen #frozen #frozen 2 #frozen 3 #frozen beef #negative #anon #ask

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isekaicore · 1 year

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i'm literally screaming anon you would love pirates of the caribbean 3

#im cackling this is so funny #why is this a once upon a time / game of thrones / moana crossover fic #has this been cooking in ur brain since i made that initial frozen post /gen #frozen #frozen 3 #anon #ask #long post

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loominggaia · 2 years

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Anonymous asked:

Been thinking of this prompt for awhile now so I thought I’d ask, how would Mr. Ocean respond if the Sovereign brought Solveig back to life as a hideous monster? Let’s say that sovereign figured out about his brothers love affair with a terrain women and where ocean was hiding, and decided to punish his brother for his “treason” in the most horrifying way possible!

Using her body and the foulest of dark magic, along with the aid of an evil divine, he brings Solveig back to life as a hideous, body horror abomination to attack Ocean with. It has her face, voice and soul, being completely consciousness but has no control over herself as she’s ordered to kill ocean alongside any and everyone he cares about! Sovereign, his solveig monster and aqurian forces launch a massive attack against the hollow. What would oceans response be to seeing solveig again in the

Worst possible way? Would he be able to kill monster her and set her soul free? And would this be enough to break the promise preventing him from directly attacking the sovereign?

What a deviously brilliant prompt, wow! I really had to think about this one. Mr. Ocean has made a few promises in this life that he’s bound to, so let’s look at those first.

He promised his parents that he would never kill another Tekeetian (meaning he can’t kill Sovereign)

He promised Solveig that he would always protect what he loves (meaning he must defend his friends and anyone else he cares about)

He also promised Alaine that he would never enthrall anyone again. (meaning no more dorikori soldiers to fight for him)

The promise that Mr. Ocean regrets most is the one he made to Solveig. It’s what compelled him to create the Oceanic Resistance and build an army to defend Terria, but after so many centuries of fighting for it, he saw Terria’s darkest sides and fell out of love, which finally broke him free of his promise to defend it. That’s why he’s living in Drifter’s Hollow currently, because he fell out of love with Terria and fell in love with Alaine (mostly because she reminds him of Solveig).

But as long as he still remembers Solveig and the promise he made to her, he is compelled to defend the other things he loves--including people. This becomes a tricky situation when one person he loves is trying to hurt another person he loves. This actually happened in the story “Supply and Demand”.

If Sovereign resurrected Solveig into some monstrous body, I think Mr. Ocean would mentally have to separate her soul from that body. Technically, the promise he made to her was to his memory of her. Check out this excerpt from Ocean Returns to the Sea:

[...Solveig’s smile faded. She closed her eyes, voice creaking like a tree in the wind. “I will not be forever, my sweet Ocean. Soon I’ll join my ancestors in the stars. When I do, your promise…” She trailed off as a cough rattled her body.

“My promise will be broken,” Ocean finished quietly, distantly.

“Yes.” Solveig’s smile returned again, strained as she rasped, “The memory of your mother and father nearly destroyed you. Please, don’t let mine do the same.”

Ocean shook his head. “I won’t let it,” he told her.

Her gaze hardened towards his own, her gnarled fingers closing tighter on his hand. “Promise my memory, so that you will keep it forever.”

The cecaelia leaned forward, planting a kiss on her lips. “I promise to the memory of my dear Solveig,” he began, “that I will not mourn her forever, and that I will never let grief be my undoing.”

“And promise me this,” added Solveig, “that you will always protect what you love, just as you once protected me.”]

Mr. Ocean is bound to a promise he made to his memory of Solveig, not Solveig herself. That was pretty damn clever on behalf of Solveig, who probably suspected something like this might happen. This is why Mr. Ocean is always slamming drugs and trying to forget her, so he can break this burdensome promise. Unfortunately all he’s done is put holes in his brain and forgotten pretty much everything except her.

I think he would kill the monster, reasoning in his mind that it’s just a cursed vessel and he is freeing her soul from it. He would have to use spells to subdue Sovereign and his Tekeetian forces because he would be unable to kill them. But you know who could kill them? The other Freelance Good Guys. As long as his crew backed him up, they could fight off the Sovereign together.

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

#ask #askliterature #askmrocean #asksovereign #asksolveig

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thenewnio · 2 years

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The Fairhood

In Regency-era New England, Phoebe Gillingham attends a garden party at the estate of Emanuel Lymington. There, she is appalled to learn that her parents have arranged for her to marry Angus, the son of the wealthy Thomas O'Reilly. After an argument with her parents, Phoebe flees into the nearby woods, where she is soon kidnapped by a group of goblins known as Hobyahs, who intend to make her their amusing plaything. The Hobyahs are soon startled by a troop of elfin soldiers into losing their captive by dropping her into a ditch, and she meets Primrose, a sprite who helps free Phoebe from the sack used to abduct her. From Primrose, Phoebe learns that she is in the Fair Neighborhood, or the “Fairhood”, the forested realm of the Fae. With the sprite’s help, Phoebe returns to the party, only to find that, because she is bound to the Fairhood, she is invisible to everyone there, only able to interact with other Fair Folk such as Liag, a boggart, or jobless brownie. Upon learning of her plight, Liag decides to help her, hoping to be free to become a human in return. Back in the Fairhood, Phoebe, Pimrose and Liag set out for Alora, the city of wood elves, in hopes of asking Esmeralde, the High Queen of the Elemental Court, for help. Along the way, Phoebe is rescued from a troll named Shengar by a mysterious armored girl named Pyria, who, having been startled upon seeing Phoebe’s face, leaves them with a warning. Pyria is at odds with Nivara the dreaded Iron Queen, who takes an interest in Phoebe, planning to capture her. The trio visit a tavern full of anthropomorphic animals from various professions to ask for directions to Alora, and they are warned about the Iron Queen. After leaving the tavern, they are waylaid by the wolf conman Duke Timber, but a water crone, Meg of the Mire, drives him away before directing them to Alora. On the outskirts of the city, they encounter the Hobyahs again, but Pyria and the elf patrol come to their aid. The three are brought before Esmeralde, where Phoebe is shocked to learn that she is a changeling, having been swapped with Pyria, the “real Phoebe” and the adoptive human daughter of the infertile Lady Alvarelle Fabular. She is renamed Mimico and given lodging in the palace with Primrose and a sassy elf girl named Zali, while Liag is set to work as a brownie with the other servants. Mimico initially faces discrimination from the other Fae; only Primrose, Liag, Zali and Pyria show sympathy for her. Liag is confronted by Nivara, who promises him that she won’t harm Mimico if he gives the girl an enchanted apple. After visiting her old home and seeing that her human parents are losing hope of ever seeing their daughter again, Mimico glumly resigns herself to the life of a Fae. Liag, despite doubting Nivara’s words, reluctantly gives her the apple, and runs away in shame as she falls into a trance and forgets herself, allowing the Iron Queen to turn her into a bird to add her to her menagerie of captured changeling children whom she has transformed into birds. Seeing this, Primrose and Meg warn Zali and Pyria, and they come to Mimico‘s rescue and restore her human form and memories. With newfound determination to stop Nivara, Mimico and the group travel to the Iron City, but are confronted by the humongous mechanical gate guard. However, Liag, having been demoted to a boggart once more due to his actions, comes to their rescue. Despite his feeling unworthy of forgiveness for his betrayal, Mimico and the others welcome him back, and they enter the Iron City together. Nivara is alerted to the group's presence and sends her redcap army to stop them. Primrose frees the bird children, who help defeat the redcaps, allowing them to enter Nivara’s castle. The group engage in battle with Nivara, who offers Mimico her every wish in exchange for her loyalty, but the girl resists and destroys the necklace which serves as the vessel for the Iron Queen‘s soul. With Nivara slain, the transformed changelings are restored to their human forms, and the Fairhood rejoices, with Mimico finally gaining the other Fae’s respect. Esmeralde, in gratitude, releases Mimico’s bond to the realm, allowing her to return home and use her human name again. Pyria decides to live in the human world, and she accompanies Phoebe and Liag as they leave the Fairhood. Once home, Phoebe reunites and reconciles with her overjoyed parents, who break off her engagement to Angus while Pyria frees Liag with a gift of clothing, allowing him to become human. Primrose, having secretly followed them, watches these events transpire before flying back to the Fairhood, where the Fae are shown to be living happier lives as a result of Phoebe's influence.

#original story #fairies #fantasy #inspired by stories of the Fair Folk and Labyrinth #as well as Over the Garden Wall

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deepforestsong · 2 years

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Do you ever feel like you want to disappear? By disappear I mean as in change the physical nature of your body so that every last cell in your body is transformed into something else. In Iain M. Banks's Culture series of novels, the highest level a species can achieve is level 9, sublimation. At this stage the species transcends their physical presence to become something else, something different. Stardust maybe, or atoms more elemental to the universe in which they live. For the past several months, I have had this lingering feeling that if I could, I would transcend somehow and leave my physical body behind for good. Pure energy, for example, no longer bound to a physical body and all the ailments that come along with it, but it's not just physical sensation I wish to leave behind, but memory. I would like to forget my past journeys and experiences, erase my presence and memory from everyone I know and just be. Like light traveling through space from a dying star, or a grain of sand. "We are stardust, we are golden We are billion-year-old carbon And we've got to get ourselves Back to the garden"

This lyric is from Joni Mitchell's song, Woodstock, written by her because she could not perform at the festival in upstate NY in 1969 and yet she wished to capture what the promise of such an event held for her in her mind. The band Crosby, Stills and Nash were there and they recorded Joni's song and made it a very big hit. The message is admirable, opening with the idea that we are all children of God with an innate higher purpose. The lyrics end on a note of hope and an image I still find appealing: "And I dreamed I saw the bomber jet planes Riding shotgun in the sky Turning into butterflies Above our nation."

Wouldn't that be nice? If a bomber jet bound for the (then) Vietnam War can turn into a butterfly then it should be possible for any of us to transcend just by the power of thought and will alone. For me, I believe for this to be possible we also need to reconnect with the idea of impermanence and non-attachment, two important teachings we learn from buddhism and taoism in the East. When I write about wishing to be free of memory, part of this is a desire to be free of my attachment to those memories and the prison they have the power to create. Living in the moment sounds simple but it is the most difficult thing I think a human being can attempt to do. It involves nothing less than transformation, non-attachment and the will to embrace impermanence. Every day I do my best to keep trying, starting with a deep breath and a centering meditation that allows me to be grateful for this moment and for my force of will which can be a source of love in the world. "Well, I came upon a child of God He was walking along the road And I asked him, "Tell me, where are you going?" And this he told me

Said, "I'm going down to Yasgur's Farm Gonna join in a rock 'n' roll band Got to get back to the land Set my soul free"

We are stardust, we are golden We are billion-year-old carbon And we've got to get ourselves Back to the garden."

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thebluenickel · 2 years

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A Court of Ribbons and Shadows Oneshot

THIS IS VERY, VERY NSFW. And also contains spoilers for A Court of Ribbons and Shadows. This is a direct scene grab from ACORAS written from Azriel's perspective, rather than Gwyn's.

For my ACORAS readers, this is Gwyn's turn in Poetry and Piety.

Enjoy :)

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Azriel carries Gwyn the entire way across the Summer Court palace, not daring to set her back on her feet until they’re behind a closed and locked door. If she’s aware this is an abduction with intent to immobilize in blankets—she shows no sign. Gwyn lounges in his arms, her loose hair tickling at his neck.

Her prism is a lazy, sleepy shade of blue as it trails behind them. Az’s shadows are whispering, demanding to take, touch—

“Kickback,” he asks, knocking open the suite’s door, “One through ten.”

Her eyes flutter open at the sound of the lock snapping shut. And her colors begin to shift—silver-blue and pink. Her little feet kick like she wants to be put down. “Ten,” she says.

Way too high. Az sets her gently on the bed, not daring to jostle her—there’s nothing erotic about a headache, that’s for damn sure. Gwyn puts up a protest as he rolls her into a blanket, then another. The scowl on her face is not doing her any good. He wants that pouting lip between his teeth.

“Compression,” he tells her, and the gruff note in his voice clears none of the suspicion in her eye, “It’ll bring your kickback down.”

“I’m sure there are better ways to squish me into submission.”

Azriel turns away to hide his smile. And hide from himself the way her arms and legs are beginning to search out a way to remove herself from her cozy confines. She won’t find one.

He sheds his leathers in exchange for a softer shirt and the cotton pants she likes so much. Less likely to set off her kickback; more likely to end up removed. A color reaches out to bat at his hair and a shadow steals it away.

Gwyn huffs. “Don’t forget whose turn it is, Shadowsinger.”

He ties the laces of his pants tight and steps into the bathing room. The faint sound of her muttering follows him in. With those senses of hers, she can no doubt hear him snickering in response.

He didn’t come in here for a reason. He sits on the lip of the tub, letting a shadow play through his hands for a minute, then two. The shadow slips up and ruffles his hair—as impatient as he is. But they wait, letting Gwyn work herself up to exactly where he wants her. Sensitive and snarky.

The moment he steps out of the bathroom, teal eyes like wishing wells snap to him. A quiet growl sounds from the back of her throat.

“Any better?” he asks, planting a knee on the mattress beside her. He knows she’ll lie. But she can’t hide the way she shivers as his fingers stroke across the sensitive skin of her neck. “So sensitive,” he coos sympathetically, a hand trailing the length of her body, “And completely immobile.”

Her eyes narrow. “Get away from me.”

He does not. Careful not to unpin a single corner of the blankets, he throws his leg over her, pinning her hips between his thighs. And he braces his weight on his forearms, holding himself just out of reach of her arching back.

She wriggles, muttering a protest. Her prism is all pink and jade now, pleading for more in ways her snarky mouth refuses to.

He brushes his lips against hers in glancing promise. A soft sound tears its way free from him at the taste of her—confection and crankiness.

“I want to touch you, Az,” she murmurs.

“In a minute.” In an hour, if she’s very good.

Colors lash up into life, flickering. “It is not your turn.”

“But I am not the one bound up.” He gives her another glancing brush and kisses her in the moment she opens her lips to complain again. She muffles out a whimper.

And surrenders to him, sighing blissfully as he settles his weight against her. The tension of two weeks slides off his shoulders, his wings falling open around them—a curtain of red, casting her prism in his hue.

She nips his lip sharply. He squeezes her hips tighter, a hand gently closing around her throat. Reminding her who needs to show their sweetest manners. She swallows against his palm, a nervous flush heating through her skin.

Something tightens against his chest, and he doesn’t have the time to register it’s her prism before his world flips. He hits the bed on his back, bouncing from the force.

Before he can catch his breath, Gwyn is on her feet—arms crossed, lips scowling, gaze devouring. Her colors are the indigo of a challenge accepted.

“Too much?” he asks warily.

“No.” She growls at him as he tries to reach for her. His hand freezes in midair. “It’s my turn, Azriel. Stay down.”

He leans back against the headboard of the bed. Whether or not he’s down by her standards is answered by the domineering look on her face. If she wants a challenge; he’s happy to oblige her.

“Take off your shirt.”

He’s very happy to oblige her. He takes his time folding up his shirt and laying it on the bedside table. She cocks a brow at him, amused.

Her prism noses and nuzzles at his bared skin. “Lay down,” she orders, “on your back. Wings open. Hands above your head.”

A prickling heat skewers down his spine. That’s how they’re playing tonight—he can no longer differentiate apprehension from desire where Gwyn is concerned. Especially with wishing well eyes trailing evilly across his sensitive wings.

He lays back on the bed, only opening his wings when she gives him a sharp warning. The joints are pinned open the moment his weight settles on them—she looks entirely too pleased by the way his wing twitches at the glancing brush of her fingers. Trying to close, trying to protect itself from her. Entirely unable to.

He rests his arms up above his head comfortably, feigning serenity. His shadows and his cock are both giving him away.

“I’m going to give you three choices, Az,” she says, dropping two sheets of parchment onto the pillow next to him. He glances over to read them, but they’re encoded. “First: do you want your hands bound or unbound?”

A trick, a trick, his shadows warn. He knows, but he can never tell when she’s tricking him with an obvious trick to trick him into tricking himself. He hazards, “Unbound.”

She smiles—dammit. “Second: pick a number between one and one-hundred.”

An alarmed calculation spills through his head. A small number is obvious; a big number is dangerous—does she know how many times a male can come in a row? It’s most definitely not a double-digit number. “Twelve,” he blurts.

“An even number,” she says, plucking up one of her encoded papers and folding it. The paper labeled with, one, leaving behind the page labeled with, two.

“Little shit,” he grumbles—little shit for making him overthink that; absolute terror for using the bluffing techniques he taught her against him.

“Size doesn’t always matter.”

He snorts. Dammit. And he laughs.

“Last choice, Az.” She holds up her list for him to see and puts a tally mark in the large blank space in the bottom corner of the parchment. “You have one tally mark. Every time you move your arms, I will add another.”

His arms tense, half-expecting to pull against resistance—but, of course, he’s unbound.

Gwyn grins at him. “But you get to decide what the tallies mean. Either: each tally is ten minutes, or each is one climax.”

Either: he’s fucked, or he’s fucked. The lack of specification on the first option is no doubt a trap—one he refuses to fall for. With a growl, he decides, “Climax. You’re evil.”

“We match.” She props herself up on the bed, swinging her leg over his prone body—mimicking him, taunting him—her weight settles a little too close and a little too far. His cock twitches; his arms twitch.

He freezes. This is far too early to be struggling.

“Let’s begin,” she says. And all of her colors shift, swirl. Illusions take form as—feathers. Exact copies of the one he pulled on her, but a hundred of them. All hovering menacingly over his wings.

He puts up an immediate protest, threatening, “I will pay you back for this, Gwyn.”

The feathers drift and sway and stop, directly above the membrane. There they hover, waiting for just the right moment to strike. He watches from the corner of his eye, tight with anticipation. That slick softness against his wings—no, that won’t make him come. It’ll likely drive him irreparably mad if he doesn’t shake it off instantly. Like electricity.

The more he tenses up, the more he’s sure it’s hopeless.

Gwyn lowers the feathers onto his wings and lets them simply rest there. The weight of them isn’t enough for him to quite feel anything. He narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, his wings twitching—and he’s tickled by every single feather as they shift.

A short shock, over before he can gasp in a breath. “Fuck you,” he groans. “That’s a good immobilization technique.”

“You like it?”

“No,” he growls.

She very, very delicately taps her nails against his stomach. And drags the soft sensation up his torso in searching lines, finding all the little places he tries to shift out from beneath her touch. He freezes, refusing to give her more to use against him.

Her nails drag back down, agonizingly gentle. He’s distinctly aware that tickling is something she’s cursed at him for more than once—he likely earned this. Doesn’t change how much she’s going to regret this the moment her turn is over. He’ll tie her up; he’ll get every inch of her skin awake and screaming for his touch; and he’ll make her come off of nothing more than the soft bristles of a brush.

He blows out a slow breath as her nails trail back up his torso, and back down. Each time she repeats the stroke, he hates it viscerally more. She won’t stop until she wins.

He’s not going to make this easy for her. Even as she shifts higher, taking those soft touches to his arms. His breath catches—it sounds loud in the quiet room. And she drags her nails all the way back down to his waist. All the way back up—

Steady and slow and inescapable.

“It’s not working, Gwyn,” he taunts.

She raps her nails against his chest. “I’m only just getting started.” And she rolls off of him.

The respite is not what he hoped it would be—his skin is tingling in demand for any kind of actual touch. And Gwyn is standing at the foot of the bed. He has an instant, sharp flash of an image of her reaching towards his foot, and he nearly calls it on that. He’ll let her win; he doesn’t care.

But she crawls up onto the mattress, her hands reaching out straight for the laces of his pants. He goes carefully blank, hiding away the thundering need in his head. He thought she intended to torture his wings the whole night—but gods, he’d kill for her hand on his cock again.

She grabs the legs of his pants and rips them off him in one movement. He nearly reaches for her on no other instinct than asking if she’s sure about this. The feathers on his wings give him a jolt of a reminder not to move.

She certainly looks confident about this as she straddles his thighs, her hands trailing up his skin—her face flushes pink, her eyes darkening. She doesn’t look away from his cock for a second as she skirts directly past.

She repeats the delicate torture of her nails, this time on the sensitive skin of his hips. His muscles clamp down in protest, and the feathers shift.

He curses at her, and again. She knows she has him with this—she’s watching him with a taunt in her eyes as she moves up and down and up and down. Until there’s nothing more left of his mind to fight her, and he grabs for her hands, growling at her, you win; you win.

She removes the tickling touch, reprimanding, “Hands.”

Settling back in, he glowers at her but makes no more comment. She wants him wound up; she’ll get wound up. But he’s giving her none of the satisfaction of her point in their game. He’ll get the point back easily enough.

No brushes—he’s going to tie her hands to the headboard and keep her coming on his hand until she gives up trying to squirm away from him. Until she realizes, even with her legs free, she can’t escape. That the taunt is in the unnecessary restraints; and the threat is in the false freedom.

Gwyn glances over at him as she strikes another tally mark onto her list. Her breathing is sharper, shorter—she heard that plan in his mind. He turns to lock his eyes with her, promising her she’ll get her dues just as soon as she gives him back the control. Her throat moves at a swallow, and her colors flash a blistering jade of arousal.

A shadow slips into her hand as she sits upright, depositing a cube of ice into her palm and fluttering off obediently. Traitor, he growls at the shadow. It hides behind a jade. Gwyn smiles.

Without any of the tenderness from her last torment, she reaches out and sets the ice cube down unceremoniously on the membrane of his wing. He’s numb for the briefest moment, then the cold lashes through him. Straight to his bones.

“Gwyn, get that off my wing.”

She looks over her shoulder at something and murmurs, “Sorry, I just forgot something.” Without a second glance at the ice on his fucking wing, she hops off of him, dropping to her feet on the floor and padding deeper into the room. “Hold on,” she says, and there’s a rustle of her moving things around, “I know I left it over here somewhere.”

He desperately tries to shake the ice off and only succeeds in shifting all the feathers. A groan rattles through his shivering body. If he moves his arms right now, he’s giving up on their game. He’s pinning her to the bed and taking that ice cube to her skin.

“You little shit,” he mutters. And he doesn’t move his arms. Half the fun of Gwyn is the wanting—the minutes and hours she leaves him wanting to touch her, torture her into those sweet, pleasured sobs.

The other half of the fun is doing it when she’s got him wound up just right. If this is to be only the beginning of his night—she must be wanting something special when she’s done.

“Found it,” she announces, holding up a long, thin ribbon for him to see.

He has three immediate ideas what she’s intending to do with that and none of them are good. But he waits for her to situate herself back on the bed and growls for the ice to be removed. She ignores him.

The ribbon slips between his cock and his stomach, and she loops it around the base. Then another loop and she begins to tie it off. Azriel can’t think of the words to protest—he can’t imagine how she knows to do such a thing. His body ceases it’s shivering, pinpoint concentrated on that tightening—

“What are you doing.”

She glances at him through her lashes. “I did some research on your anatomy. Does this hurt?” He shakes his head, and she continues, “I want to be sure you can’t get ahead of my game.”

“I’m definitely not going to come with ice on my wing.”

“Oh, sorry,” she simpers.

The ice is mercifully removed, leaving a prickling square of wing half-numbed. Droplets of water slide down Gwyn’s hand and wrist, and she flicks them onto the membrane. His wings twitch discontentedly; the feathers shift.

She frowns down at the remaining cube of ice in her palm, glances down at his body, calculatingly. And she asks, “Could you melt this a bit more for me?”

The ice presses directly to the head of his cock. His body lurches unhappily—his arms remain pinned, but he absolutely will not withstand that for long.

“That won’t work,” he says, too tightly. “That won’t work.”

She rubs the ice around—and he almost laughs; she’s an absolute terror and he fucking loves her. “Aren’t you supposed to be warmer down here?” she asks, jadedly, “I thought this would go faster.”

He seethes at her, “You are going to regret this.” And he whimpers, not managing to catch the pitiful sound in time—because he’s never made it before; he didn’t know he could make that sound. Gwyn’s eyes light up curiously, the ice pressing a bit harder like she wants to hear that sound again. He finally grabs for her, pushing away the cold.

She adds her next tally mark; his hands return to their positions without need for another reprimand. The ice is still in her hand. And she shifts up his body to rest her hips against his stomach and reach out to touch his wings—

“Come on, Gwyn,” he pleads, “No more of the ice.”

She makes a soft, soothing sound. “It’s alright, love. You’ll like this.”

The ice glances across the membrane of his wing, leaving a glistening trail of frigid water in its wake. Gwyn leans over, one hand braced on his chest and drawing gentling circles. Heat breathes across his wing—

She swipes her tongue up and up the line left by the ice, sweeping away the cold and replacing it with the pleasure of her mouth. He groans—low and animal, desperate for more.

She chooses a different spot on his wing and repeats. Ice, heat. Ice, heat. Over and over as the shivers turn to shudders, the melting heat stealing away the apprehension of the cold. He’s definitely taking a cube of ice to her at the next available opportunity—it’s surprisingly nice when she’s nice about it.

The ice melts away entirely and she sprinkles water onto him again. He doesn’t complain. The cold shock not soothed over is the only thing clearing his mind as her hand moves to hover just above his throbbing cock.

“Say please,” she purrs.

Little shit. “Please,” he grits out.

“Nicer.”

“Please.”

The slim, narrow pleasure of a stroke moves down the entire length of his cock—the pad of her pointer finger tracing the lines and shape. He tries to arch into it for more, but her weight is once again pinning his thighs.

Fascination takes over her wishing well eyes. She strokes him again, watching as his helpless body twitches for her. His wings ripple; the feathers tickle—he clamps his hands into fists to ground himself.

“Gwyn, please,” he tries; he begs.

She glances at his face like she forgot he had one. And her hand wraps tight around the head of his cock. That simpering little quirk to her lips is a taunt like no other as pleasure hammers against his spine. He’s never been so deeply under another’s control than right here, beneath her.

He gasps quietly, moans softly. As if in reward, she strokes him just the way he likes.

Pressure disappears from his body—he entirely forgot about the ribbon—and he smells the vanilla of an illusion. She didn’t have to get up and get it; she illusioned the damn thing. Diabolical smartass.

Her hand twists experimentally and moves the entire length down and up his cock. His wings twitch in response, the feathers shifting—even that feels like pleasure now that it’s paired against her hand around him.

“That’s good,” he murmurs, “So good, Gwyn.”

Any hesitancy to her touch dissolves as she finds more and more ways to tear him into tiny pieces. His head tips back into the pillows as his body winds tighter. She treats his exposed throat to a soft touch—he can’t tell if it’s her nails or her prism.

Her voice pierces through the haze, “Come now,” and it’s like a fist releasing deep inside him. A climax snaps through him, whip-sharp, before he can prepare for it. His groan chokes in his throat, but still sounds loud in the room.

Her hand slows and stops without chasing aftershocks—that mercy should be a sign that this is about to get worse, but he’s serenely drifting in all the things she just did to him. Surely it can’t be that bad.

Gwyn clambers off the bed again, and he almost protests at the loss of her body heat. She reaches for the hem of her shirt, pauses, locks eyes with him, and pulls it off with a flourish. His body responds too quickly for his mind to catch up.

His head is a big, empty canyon; his thoughts a whooshing of wind.

He almost reaches for her—soft skin, handfuls of hips, blushing pink—but she’s already going to work removing the rest of her clothing. That’s a very bad sign. He doesn’t know why yet, but he knows it is. The shadow cleaning him off is also entirely disconcerting.

As soon as she’s undressed, she swings herself up over him again. This time, she lodges a leg between his so she doesn’t have to straddle the entire width of his body. Still—he can see how badly she wants him; he can taste it.

“Not your turn, Shadowsinger,” she reminds him, noting the direction of his gaze. “You still have two to go.”

He’s hard again—he can take another climax easily. The last one might ache if she doesn’t give him a minute of downtime. Somehow he doubts she knows or cares that his body has stricter limitations than hers. He probably earned this with his last turn.

He hisses at the first touch of her hand. And that must urge her on, because she strokes him harder, faster than she did before. There must be some illusion at play, keeping her hand slick. He thinks he would have noticed if she’d spit into one of those tiny, magic hands of hers. He might have lost the remainder of his empty mind at the sight.

There’s no keeping a lock on the sounds he’s making now. Breathless praise, desperate cursing as the feathers on his wings melt back into colors and begin to swirl caresses against him. His mind-whites, and he comes.

Another whimper rips from his mouth. A soft, whining plea of a moan—he doesn’t know what he’s pleading for. He sounds like a wounded animal.

Gwyn doesn’t stop stroking him as his climax hits a blistering peak and begins to subside. His entire body is trembling, but she doesn’t relent. Through his squeezed shut eyes, he doesn’t see her moving. But he feels a breath coast across his skin just before her snarky, confectionary mouth closes around his cock.

Her tongue laves against his skin, her lips exploring all the ways she can fit around him. He jolts, the game going out the window in a heartbeat as a lashing sensation moves through him—too sharp to be pleasure, too pleasurable to be pain. He delves a hand into her hair, pulling lightly.

“Please, please, a second, give me a second,” he begs, even as she releases him. She allows him to guide her away from the ache she just created, and she crawls up his body. Her weight, her warmth—all that bare, soft skin settles against him.

Like warm water closing over his head. He can drown in this. He can die like this.

His eyes drift closed in the peace she’s granting him. And he squeezes her hip in his free-hand. He doesn’t know how long she’ll allow this; he’ll make the best of it. “Please,” he whispers again, and she kisses him softly, “Please, please.”

She murmurs soothingly to him between drowning kisses. He keeps pleading with her, trying to keep her here as long as possible. He likes this—he really fucking likes this. A fantasy is drifting through his mind of something near exactly like this. But he’s on top, and she’s stuffed so full of him—

A scratch of pen on parchment wakes him back to reality. Another tally mark.

“Damn you.”

“Put your hands back where they belong,” she orders.

With a groan, he releases her. She watches him sharply, searching for any reason to add to her tally marks. Her eyes drift back to his cock and widen. Her mind whispers surprise—so she does know the limitations of a male body; she’s simply ignoring them.

“You have no idea how bad I want you,” he says, his rough, raw voice leaves no room to doubt him, “Every second of every day. Half the time—” he grits his teeth as she leans down to blow a cold breath against the heated skin of his cock “—I don’t know if I want your body or your company. Hearing you laugh, hearing you moan—it’s all the same anymore.”

She drags her gaze up and up his body until they lock eyes. “Say please.”

“Please.”

She strokes him with her tongue.

“Please, Gwyn.”

She hums out a soft, pleased sound that vibrates through him. He’s about to plead again when the velvet warmth of her mouth wraps around his cock. He switches to praises as she experiments on him—trying to find her rhythm. She could probably bite him, and he’d find a way to come from it.

She sucks, and his head fills with static. She flicks her tongue, and he whimpers for her again. There’s a sensation of being chased the entire time—like he should be running from the building pressure, but it’s already inside him. He can’t escape it; he wouldn’t want to.

No matter how much of his mind is obliterated. He warns her before he comes, and she makes a sound against him that might be understanding or demand. She doesn’t slow down until he obediently gives in to her. Her prism on his wings bursts silver-blue all at once, splashing the room in a starlit glow.

She swallows around him, and he doesn’t know if his eyes cross or roll back into his head, but the world goes dark and hazy for a second. It pops back into focus at the sound of his cock slipping from her mouth.

She sits up to survey the conquering she’s done to him. And she licks her lips. “One more.”

“Wait—wait.” His command works like magic, stilling her in place. Big, guileless teal eyes flick up to his face, her prism turning pink. That’s adorable. “You never specified whose climax each of those tally marks represents.”

A blush sweeps up her throat, her hips shifting like she wants to grind down against his thigh. “You think you can make me come without moving your hands or using your—” her confidence muffles “—cock?”

Adorable. And pink and wet and—

Her eyes go wide at the motion of his head, coaxing her to move up to his mouth. He narrows his eyes at her. “You tasted me,” he says, “Did you like that?”

She nods timidly.

“It’s my turn.”

Her colors are turning faintly maroon, but jade is spilling over them. She stammers for a moment. “I don’t want to—sit on you,” she protests.

Az is going to lose his wits. “Please do,” he begs. He’s seeing paradise behind his eyes, and he wants to make it a reality post and haste.

“That’s dangerous.”

“You won’t suffocate me. Just come here, Gwyn.” He simpers out a perfect, “Please?”

Her eyes hood irascibly. And with a motion at her body, she offers, “Go ahead.”

“Is this a trick.”

“No. You can move your arms—” her words break into a yelp as he sits up, grabbing her thighs to pin her in place. She squirms at the grip a little, her eyes going a bit wild—like she’s realizing she just let go of his leash without quite enough forethought.

He moves her into place and adjusts a pillow before settling back onto the bed. She looks down nervously at him between her thighs, her legs squeezing a bit. That instinct to hide away from him is rearing its head. He’ll have none of that.

The angle she’s holding herself at won’t do either. He pulls at her thighs, not hard enough to force her down, just wearing her energy out—even her thighs can’t hold that position for long. Pretty thighs, pillowy, downy. He rubs his cheek against the softness. And feels the moment her muscles begin to shake from the strain.

He yanks her down onto his mouth. Her hand sinks into his hair, and there’s a thunk as she grabs for the headboard. Then a long, muffled moan at the first touch of his tongue. Her legs squeeze again like she wants to hide.

He slips his hand around to part her for him, using his arm to pin her down. He explores every inch of her in a long, slow drag—listening to the sounds she makes, finding all the places she’ll curse him for using against her later.

The hand in his hair grips down sharply, then releases. Almost apologetically, she strokes at the strands. Her taste in his mouth; her nails scraping at his scalp—he’s never letting her up again. It’s his turn again the moment she comes. And he’ll throw out every one of his plans just to stay here for a good, long while. He can already place bets on how many climaxes it’ll take for her to lean against that headboard for support.

She grinds down against his mouth and immediately begins to apologize.

But he moves back up to her apex, flicking his tongue at the nerves. She gives a high-pitched moan—the one that sounds alarmed; he fucking loves that sound. With little more than the pressure of his lips wrapping around her apex, she comes.

He draws at the nerves, hard enough to drag her pleasure out, gentle enough not to hurt her. A series of breathless whimpers echoes through the room and she goes quiet. Ready for more, then.

He dares to release her with one hand to get his fingers involved in this—and she rolls off of him, tumbling out on the covers. Maybe she hears his mind whisper, dammit, or she’s giddy with pleasure. She starts giggling. With her hair haloed out around her and the soft glow of bliss on her skin, she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

She always is. But it smacks him in the face like a slap.

His shadows slip through him, cleaning away the taste of her, to his chagrin and her relief. She nearly pulls back from his kiss before she realizes his lips are dry.

He rolls over top of her, very carefully. They’re both naked, and he’s hard again—he refuses to allow panic anywhere near the blissful, sleepy softness seeping into her. But her mind is blank of even an acknowledgement of their position. Her end of the connection is whirring loudly, but without a hint of fear.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asks.

He laughs before he can quite stop it. And lets her yank his weight down against her by an arm hooked around his neck. She hums a pleased sound, her head falling back into the pillows and exposing her neck to him. Turnabout, Fair Play—

“No,” he whispers hoarsely, “I already want more.”

“Maybe tomorrow, Shadowsinger.” She laces her fingers through his hair, smoothing down the ruffling she did to it. Her eyes flick open to spear him with a sharp, assessing look. “Did I go too far?”

He shakes his head. “You’re a mischievous little shit. I love it.”

#azriel #acotar #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #a court of ribbons and shadows #acoras #acosf #azriel’s shadows #oneshot #gwynriel smut #gwynriel one shot

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scare-you · 3 years

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Eren said it himself, he wanted his friends, all of them to live a long and happy life. He knew they will never be left alone, the hate would never stop. Was he going the extra mile with the rumbling? Most likely. But with his friends and the rest of the shifters topping him, he made sure they would be left alone.

He reached his original goal as well, there are no more titans.

He told Mikasa to move on in their very last conversation. That scenario was never ever going to be real, with Eren and Mikasa hiding. But deep down both Eren and Mikasa wanted that. He still told her to move on and forget about him, and only confessed his true feelings, thoughts and desires about Mikasa once Armin literally punched him and demanded him to do so. He is a 19 year old boy with selfish desires, but he hid them, swallowed them all, and chose the option best for his friends, knowing he would never gain anything out of it, he would never see them achieve that freedom which he gave up on, and he will never get to be happy with them and Mikasa ever again. So yes, Isayama did what he promised. He gave us a bittersweet, beautiful ending.

But most characters achieved their goals too:

Reiner can stop fighting at last and reunited with both his friends in Paradis and in Marley, without hurting or disappointing his mother, who was happy for him not being a walking weapon with a limited life-span anymore.

Falco got to stay with Gabi and protect her, and they will most likely be happy together forever.

Annie reunited with her father and now can stop fighting too.

Armin will see the world, he now has the chance, he can also be with Annie.

Pieck doesn't have to worry about her father's pain of losing her daughter anymore.

Jean will be able to settle down.

Connie's mom is okay.

Historia seems happy, and as she knew of Eren's intentions, she chose to not reveal them. She may not have made the best decision, but she was living her own life with her own choices. In the end, she has a beautiful daughter which she genuinely loves and will be able to give her a childhood she did not get.

Levi can be at peace, he did not disappoint his comrades.

Mikasa will be able to move on. It was Eren's deathday, and she wanted to be by his side. Is it hard to let go after loving him for so long? Definitely. But her last smile seems convincing enough that she is accepting the results of her choice and WILL be able to move on, even if it will hurt for a long time.

Ymir's motive became extremely simple and heartbreaking.

It was shown in a few panels how she observed couples longingly. She wanted love. She wanted someone to care about her, she did not want to be a nameless slave anymore, but just like those couples, someone else's other half. A little girl always dreams of the strongest, most unreachable ones (just like we dream of celebrities as young teenagers), and with a good amount of toxicity and morbidness, she became attached to her oppressor. She saw a chance with her new-found powers to make him love her, but she remained a concubine, a slave, and had to endure him loving different women, while he only "loved" her because of the things she'd done for the Eldians. Even as she died, she remained a slave, as Fritz said it himself.

Ymir was bound not by being a slave in life, but being a slave to her own foolish love, desperately trying to get Fritz's love even after she was technically free in Paths, thus serving the royal family in order to keep herself close to what remained of Fritz, their legacy. As Eren said, she really wasn't a god nor was she a devil. She was just a girl who stumbled upon great powers. The power of the titans did not set her free, because she remained a person with her own stupid and selfish desires.

Mikasa set her free because she showed her how to let go. She did the exact opposite of what Ymir did. Mikasa, even if she will grieve for a long time, will be free, while Ymir remained a slave for 2000 years until she was finally able to let go of everything that she deemed important in order to earn Fritz's love: the Titans and everything that came with it.

I will go down with this ending as it indeed is beautiful and bittersweet.

#snk 139 #snk chapter 139 #eren #mikasa #eremika #jean kirstein #armin arlert #connie springer #reiner braun #annie leonhardt #attack on titan

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the-ellia-west · 6 months

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Ignore this Please, I'm putting it here so I have a place for it

Kasi is an Outlander. That means she lives outside of any city, and her life is centered more around work than comfort. So when she's invited to a party, she is expectedly suspicious. But for her parents who were invited to a more important event, this is an opportunity they cannot lose. With her twin brother Xhaazi stuck at home with an illness he refuses to acknowledge, Kasi knows she has to go without the support of the family she has relied on her entire life. When she arrives she is relieved to find she is not entirely alone. Her best friend Chrin has also been invited to this strange party. But soon after the two begin to enjoy this event usually reserved for the higher class, a mysterious figure drops onto the scene. No one recognizes the man until he pulls out a weapon many recognize.

By that point only Kasi and Chrin are left in the dark until someone shouts the name rhey've only read about in the papers. A murderer. Adllsais. After that, chaos ensues in several other freak accidents involving all three outlanders which drives them far away from their home and eventually out into the wild world they've never had the chance to explore, exposing them to dangers they don't have the resources to defeat. So the three are grateful when they find a man who calls himself River who seems to be willing to help them. But things just seem to get worse as he abandons them on a beach with minimal supplies and a message warning them not to return home. So, with nowhere else to go, the three decide to try and find a city. But on their way they run into two runaway creatures of a species which have adopted the name of Shades. The two Shades, Sokuna and her young Daughter Mouse ask our three heroes if they would like to help them start a rebellion. Rather done with being pushed around, and deciding to heed River's strange warning, they agree to help and make friends with the two shades, gaining protection while also digging themselves deeper into their own graves.

But where there are friends, there are also enemies. Those enemies take the form of a strange army which Sokuna and Mouse hate so much, and a cursed Assassin bound to the army by a promise. Desperate to be free of the curse that has tortured him for the past fifteen years, Marril ends up willing to do nearly everything to regain his freedom, which sets him on a path to kill an important Noblewoman. While on the other side of the Villainous coin we have three members of the army. The second in command Tias who is cruel and cold, Tias' short-time partner Kila who will work herself to death to prove a point, and Viasaki who is plagued by thousands of voices who urge him to surrender control of his mind to some mysterious entity.

While the world crumbles around them, our beloved characters must learn to see the flaws in their shattered home. They will travel far from home and some will even forget what they came for. On their journey to find the truth every single one of them will fight not only to save themselves but also their broken world, and they will all discover threats brewing beneath the surface that hold secrets that could topple nations.

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

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BOC reader is tired of being the dirty little secret and wants a real love, a love that doesn’t have to be hidden .

After the end of her internship ( she was a intern for a year)she’s offered a position as Steve’s legislative assistant, which she denies. She needs something real and permanent , not temporary and disposable ( that’s how she thinks Steve sees her but it’s not true obviously) she needs something stable for the baby growing in her womb.

Before Steve’s inauguration as President,he divorces peggy. He searches for you for months and months till he finally found you buying groceries at a farmer’s market in a small town in California , heavily 5 months pregnant

The magazine in your hands was glossy and thick, the cover displayed a picture of the new president of the United States, a man you had known far too intimately to forget.

It had been months since you had seen those blue-green eyes in person, months since you had denied the position of being his legislative assistant and made the decision to walk away. It was the only way you could give him what he needed, and it was the only way you could save yourself from feeling like you were disposable.

Because you were. Because Peggy Carter had manipulated far too many scenarios to hurt not just you but Steve as well.

Your departure was as calculated as the divorce that finally split them apart. Steve was free; you were lost in the States, across the country. Steve was inaugurated and you were carrying his child, although you wondered if he had ever known.

“I wish I could give you honey,” the shop keeper had loaded a basket up and set it on the counter, “but given your state…”

“I miss the taste of honey,” you rest your hand upon your belly, “a few days away from being 6 months pregnant now, and still 3 to go.”

“The last three months will fly by and before you know it, you’ll have a little one to take care of.” The woman behind the stall had pushed the basket toward you and grinned eagerly. “For you and the little one, and I promise next week I will have that blanket done.”

“You really are too sweet,” you had reached for the basket handles and lift it from the counter to rest it against your hip, “really, thank you.”

“Same time next week.” She had waved you off and you moved from the stall, walking slowly toward the exit of the farmers market.

As you stepped onto the sidewalk, you were briefly distracted by the appearance of a few men in black suits that were milling around, though they were paying you no mind.

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you had turned the other way and began making your way toward your apartment a few streets over. You were mindlessly walking to your apartment, even mindlessly opening the door without much thought before you had come to a dead stop at the appearance of a phantom in the middle of your apartment.

“Steve,” the basket nearly dropped from your arms when you saw him standing by the window in a fine dark blue suit, hair slicked back and a full, trimmed beard on his face, “what are you doing here?”

“Y/N,” he turned toward you, a team of secret service agents milling about your home, “you look-“

“Pregnant?” You snipped and stepped further into your home, protectively resting a hand on your belly. “Seems to be a 9 month wait.”

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was soft; his expression softer. “That’s my baby. That’s our baby, why didn’t you-“

“Your ex-wife made it clear that if I tried to overstep my bounds,” you moved your hand from one side of your belly to the other, smiling to yourself when you felt your baby move, “and you were being inaugurated.”

“I miss you,” Steve moved toward you with cautious steps and you were remiss to move away from the President of the United States, “Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about you. When you left…when I couldn’t find you…”

“You’re divorced, you’re the president of the United States, you have so much to look forward to.” Your breath was catching in your throat and you had felt as if you were either going to have a hopeful future or a devastating present.

“A baby,” Steve slipped his hand onto your belly, his fingertips touching yours, “if you would have me?”

“Are you hungry? I’ve been having particular cravings…” your smile was small and tentative, though it had been returned by a smile from Steve.

“Ya know, I make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” Steve offered, leaning in to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering against you.

“I would like that.”

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Hoist The Colours - 3/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: An encounter with the man you used to love lands you and your new crew in peril, stuck on a ship with the people responsible for binding you. And what they have planned for you is far worse than what you’d first imagined.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Violence, Injuries, Death,

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: Oof another thing is finished. I’m gonna start actually finishing stuff but Idk what to write I’m sad that my stuff is ending :( But I hope you enjoy this!

~*~

The door to your cell gets wrenched open, pulling you from your light sleep.

“You!” Rumlow snarls, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you to your feet.

“Where have they taken my prisoners?” You furrow your brows, yanking out of his grip.

“How am I supposed to know? I was left behind.” He grinds his teeth together and grabs your bicep, dragging you out of your cell and onto the main deck.

The clouds are dark and gloomy, the waters wild and violent, but not by your doing.

“You must’ve helped them, that other witch too! So tell me, how did you do it?” He shoves you and you gasp, tumbling onto the wet wood of the deck.

“How could I have helped them? You have me chained up like a dog!” You spit, glaring up at him. He stoops down to your level, grabbing your face harshly.

“You will watch your tongue or you will lose it. You do not need your voice to do my bidding.” He shoves you back down and you bite back a yelp of pain.

The sky darkens further, thunder booming and clouds rolling in.

“I will never do your bidding!” You snarl, a flash of lightning punctuating your words.

Rumlow’s eyes widen for a moment, and then he’s got his sword pointed at you, the tip just brushing your throat.

“On your feet, witch!” You obey, standing up with your chin held high.

“You will do my bidding, or you will join all those who you have sent to the depths. It is your choice.” You follow his gaze over your shoulder to where the plank is being extended over the raging ocean.

You look back at him, jaw set, and he knows you’ve made your decision.

The wind whips around your hair as he walks you to the plank, his sword digging into your back just hard enough to cause discomfort, but not pain, not yet.

You carefully step onto the plank, taking deep breaths of the salty air as the water rages beneath you.

“I will give you one last chance, wench. I will spare your life, all you need do is swear your powers to me. You’ll have the sea back in your grasp, the power to do what you please. You need only do so at my side.”

Raindrops splatter against your face, just gently at first, until you’re consumed in an intense storm, the water pelting down against you.

“You’ve forgotten, Captain, that you are not sending me to the depths,” you look over your shoulder at him with a small smile, “you are sending me home.”

You look down at the water, preparing yourself for the cool embrace, when a particularly harsh wave rocks against the ship, sending you stumbling back a step.

A wave rises up over the ship, a spiral of green swirling inside of it and for a moment you think that you’ve already died.

The wave crashes against the ship, sending the men falling and scrambling, submerging the deck for a moment.

But you stay rooted in place, the familiar green hue just touching your fingertips, the ends of your hair, then slowly becoming part of you once more.

You hear the men shouting and coughing, feel Rumlow’s sword pressed against your back once again, but you only turn around to face him.

The storm continues, the waves fighting the ship, and you cock your head to the side, sending a gust of wind towards the man threatening you. He stumbles back, eyes wide with fear.

“H-how do you...” You take slow steps towards him, waving your hand behind you as his crew-mates try to run at you. The wind pushes them back, keeping them a safe distance from you and the captain.

“You will give me answers and you will give them to me now!” You hiss, glaring daggers at him.

“Whatever it is that you wish to know, I will tell you. Just please, spare my life.”

You watch him for a long moment, fighting tears as the question bubbles out of you.

“Why? Why did he do it?”

Rumlow only shakes his head, on his knees and ready to beg for mercy.

“’twas me... I caused him to do it. With the help of a siren for the price of his left arm, I got the binding spell from him. He knew not what he was doing, though he gave the information.” You let out a shaky breath, a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

“All this time I had thought it was he who betrayed me... but it wasn’t.” You turn your gaze to him, eyes glowing green with the influx of power.

“It was you. You and your greed.” He shakes his head and scrambles back desperately.

You step aside as a sword comes down right where you were standing, and Rumlow uses your momentary distraction to sprint away.

“Kill her! Kill the Witch!” He shouts, grabbing his own sword.

You shake your head, the wind whipping strong enough to keep them away.

A nagging in your mind stops you for a moment, and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“The King and his men stole the queen from her bed... and bound her in her bones.” Your voice travels on the wind.

“The seas be ours, and by the powers, where we will, we’ll roam.”

“Captain! We’ve got a ship coming up starboard!” A man shouts, pointing his sword at the familiar ship.

“They’re upon us! Battle stations!” The men scramble to their stations, trying to get prepared as the ship approaches.

“Yo ho, all hands, hoist the colours high. Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die.” The voices ring out to you clear as day, responding to the call.

It’s only a matter of moments before canons start firing and men start boarding the ship, swords clashing and guns firing.

Your eyes scan the crowd, freezing on a man approaching you. You simply look at him and he crumples to the ground, grabbing at his throat.

“Rumlow!” You shout, following your instincts up to the foredeck and finding the captain cowering, exactly how you thought he would.

“You want to throw me overboard, captain?” You sneer his title, taking another step towards him. He stumbles back, slipping on the wet wood and scrambling away from you and towards the main deck.

“You forget that I am the sea and all things in it.”

The rain pelts down on you and the wind whips your hair around your face wildly, your eyes glowing green with the force of your power.

At that moment, you look every bit the sea goddess that the stories described. And today, you’re planning on being just as cruel.

“You stripped me of my purpose, my power. Bound me to my form and took away my reason for existence! You sacrificed the man I love for your own greedy gain. What do you have to say for yourself?” Your powers protect you from the fighting around you, the man before you protected as well.

No one will take your vengeance from you.

“I’m sorry!” He cries, slipping back further.

You shake your head and grab him by the front of his tunic, tossing his sword aside and glaring into his eyes.

“No, you’re not. Not yet. But you will be, that I promise you.”

You cock your head to the side, your free hand coming up, fingers flexed.

The water on the deck swirls around your ankles, clawing up the man before you.

“You’ve never had your purpose taken from you because a man like you has no purpose.” You twist your wrist, controlling the water around you and watch in satisfaction as his eyes widen, the water rising up over his face.

“So what else can I take, but your life?” You ask rhetorically, watching as the water trickles into his mouth and nose, slowly at first, then picking up speed.

He tries to claw at you, but his hands can’t reach you. His struggles are futile, though that doesn’t stop him.

You steal the life away from him, exactly the way he did to you.

He collapses on the ground, his body convulsing for a moment before falling still, death embracing him.

You take a deep breath, embracing your freedom, then slowly turn around.

You’re instantly meet with piercing blue eyes staring at you from across the ship. His chest is heaving and he’s squinting through the downpour, but his eyes are on you.

You walk over to him, the rain lessening with each step you take until you’re right in front of him.

The wind dies down and the ocean becomes calm. The fighting around you draws to a sombre end, victory on the tip of your tongue.

His sword clatters to the ground, his hands finding yours ever so gently, his eyes filled with so many emotions.

“Gentlemen, the ship is ours!” Steve shouts, a smile on his face. You turn around, pulling Bucky’s arms around your waist as you watch the crew celebrate their success.

Your eyes find Wanda’s and Tony’s through the crowd, both of them smiling brightly up at you.

The two crews celebrate, Pirates and Kingsmen, and you can’t help but smile at them.

“Back to the ship! We’ve gotten what we came for. The King can enjoy plundering Rumlow’s ship. I trust that will keep him off of our back for a while, yes?” Steve looks at Tony pointedly and the brunet nods.

You step out of your lover’s arms and walk down to the two men, one hand gently finding Tony’s forearm.

“I owe you a debt, Tony. One I fear I may never be able to repay.” He shakes his head, taking your hands gently in his and smiling at you.

“You’ve no debt to be paid. But if you feel so inclined, could you maybe hold back any storms for the next day or so? I’d like a chance to dry my clothes.” You giggle and nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, for all that you’ve done for myself and Wanda.” He gives you a tender smile and nods.

“It’s what I wish had been done for my mother.” He sniffles then straightens up.

“Now come on, men. It’s time we return to the King!” His crew-mates start busying themselves quickly.

“Alright lads, back to the ship!” Steve calls, leading his own crew members to their ship.

You watch as everyone eagerly crosses, smiling encouragingly at Wanda. She crosses swiftly, her eyes drawing to the helmsman for a moment.

“Are you ready?” A soft voice asks from behind you. You take a breath then nod, looking over at him.

“Yes.”

The two of you cross back to his ship, the ship almost cooing at you as soon as your feet hit the deck. You can’t fight the smile the spreads on your face at being back, and you don’t try to.

“It’s good to have you back,” Steve says, giving you a nod. You do the same, sighing happily.

“It’s good to be back, Steve.” Bucky takes your hand then and tugs you gently towards his quarters.

The door closes softly behind you and you take a moment to reacquaint yourself with the room.

You can feel his eyes on you, the tension palpable but not unpleasant.

Without looking at him, you speak.

“Could you help me out of my gown? It’s far too heavy.” He walks towards you, untying the back and watching as the fabric slides down your body, leaving you only in your white slip.

His hands hesitantly trail over your skin, one cold and one hot and the contrast is so delicious.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, head falling to the side as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, my love,” he whispers against your skin, spinning you around to face him.

You gaze up at him lovingly, one hand coming up to cup his jaw.

“Show me,” you whisper, leaning up to gently brush your lips over his.

“Show me how much you missed me. Give me a reason to clear the skies and calm the seas. Make me give us good wind and easy sail. Prove to me that you’re still worthy of my mercy.”

He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing each one of your fingers then smiling.

“I’ll never truly be worthy of your mercy. But I am more than willing to both swear and prove my loyalty to you. I will give myself over to you; body, heart, mind, and soul.”

You look up at him tenderly, cupping his cheek gently.

“I will sail to the ends of the Earth for you, fight the gods if I need to. Anything to keep you in my arms.”

“My heart belongs to you, James. And never will it belong to anyone else.”

#pirate #pirate AU #pirate!bucky #pirate!bucky x reader #Pirate!bucky x sea goddess!reader #bucky x sea!goddess!reader #pirate!bucky x goddess!reader #bucky x goddess!reader #pirate!bucky x seagoddess!reader

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