When You’re Gone - An Asra Lucio x Female Reader Angst part 3

Part One (Lemon), Part Two, Part Four, Part Five

(Okay so, the reason I took so long writing this is because I was projecting myself onto MC, and writing a story that was too similar to something I recently went through. I was having trouble completing the story line, because my own story was unresolved. So here you go.)

Second submission for The Terrifying Ten challenge posted by @vesuviannights​ 

Smut (under the cut), Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Asra could almost feel you slipping away from him as the days went by. But he couldn’t help it, he had to go. He thought you understood that.

It hurt him that he had to ask others about you just to find out how you were. You’d gotten upset with him before, but this was different.

Since that day at the fountain, he had sent several letters, and all of them had gone unanswered.

As a gentle wind blew across his soft white curls, he sat cross legged on the grassy mountain path several hundred leagues from Vesuvia and silenced himself sending his consciousness out to search for you. 

It took several moments before he saw you, your back turned to him as you gazed into the palace’s reflection pool. Although Asra longed to see your face, he daren’t get too close. He knew if you sensed him, you’d push him away again, and he couldn’t bear another rejection. Silently he watched you burning bits of paper and then scattering the ashes into the water. It only took him  a moment to realize what they were: his letters. Angry and upset he broke the connection, resolved to hurry home and make things right.

You spent your time at the palace burying yourself in work, attempting  to put Asra in the back of your mind. You thought the busier you are, the less time you have for your thoughts to drift to the smell of fresh brewed tea, flowers blooming in the sunlight, violet eyes and a warm smile welcoming you home after a long day.

“Shit,” you curse. You were doing it again. It was so easy to remember the parts of Asra you loved, and even easier to forget the parts of him that caused you so much grief.

With a bundle of his recent letters in your hand, you lay lazily along the reflection pool, burning each one as you read them. When the first one came, you were happy your heart thrumming with the possibility of his return only to be disappointed when you realized it wasn’t. 

More letters came, but you were still too angry to answer. Too hurt. 

Every so often couriers would arrive with messages from Asra. When you hadn’t responded, his letters increased.

“Love, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset with me. I’ll be back soon.”

“ I hope your doing well. Faust says you’ve been working hard at the palace. Please take care of yourself.”

" The sunsets here are really beautiful here. They make me think of you.”

“Please answer my letters, dearest. I miss you.”

And the final,

“Please.”

The worst part of it was the guilt you felt at not answering. But you just couldn’t now. Deep down you believed you never would. 

Sitting in the garden, you burned his latest plea in the palm of your hand, scattering the ashes to the wind as you sat staring at one of the lilies in the reflecting pool, studying the dragonfly resting on the soft pink petals. The white marble felt cool against your skin as you sat with legs folded along the edge.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps behind you, or the glint of a golden arm reflecting in the gentle waters.

“Still brooding over your master?” Lucio broke in as he leaned casually against a nearby column.

 You scatter the last bit of ashes out of your palm before turning to face him. “Is there something I can assist you with, Count?” you ask, your tone conveying that you’d wish to be left alone.

A charming grin graced Lucio’s face, his twinkling eyes meeting yours. “Help me? No my dear, sweet magician, I was thinking maybe I could help you.” he answered.

“I’d be interested in knowing how,” you retort,  a laugh catching in your throat. “The only way I’ve seen you solve problems is by throwing money at it.” It was a joke, but it did have some truth in it. Lucio had changed much since he’d made and broke his deal with the devil, but there were still parts of him that would always remain the same.

“Well in a way, that’s what I am doing,” he continued as he stepped closer to you. ”Starting with paying the five coin citation for throwing litter in my pool.” he teased, offering you his right arm to help you up. “And lastly, by giving you this.” He uncoils an invitation placing it before you. “There’ll be a party tonight. I’ll take your attendance as repayment for the fine.” he said smiling.

You’re up on your feet in an instant as he gives you a moment to smooth out your clothes.

“I think I’ll pay the 5 gold.” you quip.

Lucio’s throaty and genuine laughs fill your ears as his hand closed the invitation into your palm. “You’re always so funny, my dear,” He sighed, “Be there at 8 o’clock. Don’t be late.” there was a bit of urgency in that he quickly covered with a confident smile as he squeezed your arm.

“I won’t be.” You say, your tone a bit more serious than you meant it to be.

 “Don’t be so grim! It’s a party not, a death sentence.” Lucio coaxed.

“One never knows when it comes to your parties, Lucio.” you shrug as you glance at the ornate invitation.

“Oh you’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear you’ll have the time of your life! You might even meet someone new.” He winked before turning to leave you standing in the garden with the invitation in your hand. “See you at 8.”

Looking at the invitation, you noticed something curious. 

“Lucio,” you shake the invitation in the air. “This says seven!”

The count turns, his smile as wistful and mysterious as the answer he gives you. “I know.”

Confused, you watch his proud and confident gait as he walks away.

Lucio had been hunting you the moment he heard you and Asra were done with.

Well, that's not exactly how Portia had put it: during their weekly card game she had let slip that you two were going through some ‘issues’. Whatever that meant.  For Lucio he decided it meant that Asra was gone and now Lucio finally a shot with you.

Tonight's party was all a part of his elaborate plan to woo you. He had made sure the food, the music, everything would be to your liking.

As he dressed for the evening, he thought about exactly what he would say, what he would do to make sure you were his tonight. Sitting in front of his vanity with his legs crossed, he made sure his eyeliner was as sharp and dramatic, with just a bit of a silver dusting that you remarked at his last party really brought out the silver in his eyes. He’d worn it many times since then, hoping to catch your eye, but so far he’d hadn’t received further comment.

 He wanted his makeup to be perfect, for it to draw you into his eyes and never look away. Applying the finishing touches, he looked himself over appraisingly. There was no way you wouldn’t want a piece of him.

When you get to your room, there's several boxes on the bed, wrapped in gold foil and tied with red ribbons. You read the tag on the largest package, already knowing who it’s from. "Compliments of his highness count Lucio" 

Sighing you opened the box. Not only did you have to go to a party, you had to wear some faddy costume that was-

Your last thought was stolen away from you as push away the white tissue paper to reveal the most beautiful gown you've ever seen: midnight blue, with twinkling moons and stars. Lucio knew your tastes well. Smiling, you walked over to the mirror and pressed the dress against you, swaying as you imagine how you’d look tonight. Ah, it was stunning - just looking at it made you feel beautiful as the first flutterings of happiness radiate within you.

At seven o’clock you’re surrounded by glittering lights and elegant guests dressed up in their finest. Heads turned as you entered the ballroom. You’d gotten used to it by now, your appointment as royal magician gave you some status. It wasn’t unusual for you to garner attention. But you knew it was more than your court appointment that had them staring. No, it was the fact that as you crossed the ballroom floor you looked like the queen of heaven.

 It wasn’t long before you were asked to dance by a visiting dignitary, and as you dance you tried to forget the longing in your heart. As the music played your mind wandered, and your body moved with practiced steps and gentle nods as your partner blathered on about some important business deal before he asked ‘wouldn’t you like to come sailing on my yacht this weekend?” You shook your head no, bowing low to excuse yourself. You needed a drink. 

Leaning against the wall, you relaxed as you drank and watched the other guests. Normally, you wouldn’t mind one of Lucio’s parties. They were always wonderful, and to be honest you needed a break. But tonight, all the glitz and glam seemed to fall flat. Being a wallflower was more familiar to you, and you were glad hardly anyone noticed you. Everyone except the count. Although he hadn’t said a word to you the entire evening, he’d been watching. You looked exactly as he envisioned as you entered the ballroom. He watched as you initially looked around and got your bearings. When he saw you noticing the flowers, he smiled exactly when you did in the exact same way. He watched you ferret out an empty table to sit at before you were asked to dance. And then laughed when you rebuffed their advances. “Nice try pal, but she’s taken. I’ve got her all figured out.” He muttered to himself.  After your fourth dance partner, he watched as you quietly excused yourself and grabbed a drink. Now was his chance. “See to everything, will you Valerius? I’m going to check on our guest of honor.” he said with a tap to the Consul’s shoulder. 

Although you’ve stopped dancing, you find your heart racing the closer it gets to 8 o’clock.Your eyes occasionally look up at the large golden clock on the far side of the ballroom, and although it’s silly you can’t help but wonder why Lucio said he would see you at eight. He was there when you arrived, but something about the smile he gave you told you he was up to something.

Anticipation builds, and your heart continues to race until the clock strikes eight and you feel yourself releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

But you soon learn that you relaxed too soon, as a cool metal arm slips into yours and you find yourself side by side with Lucio.

“Enjoying the party?” Lucio purrs. 

“Yes its-” 

“You don’t have to lie.” Lucio interrupts. “It’s Asra isn’t it? Pity even all this isn’t enough to distract you from your heartache.” He says waving an arm to the extravagant celebration going on around you.

You sighed in defeat, hoping that it wasn’t that obvious. “I’m sorry, Lucio. Everything’s wonderful and I’m glad I came it’s just-”

Lucio brought a finger to your lips to silence you.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” His low, wistful voice interrupted. “Don’t worry I have something else that might help.” He nods his head forward, and after giving him a skeptical look you let him lead you through the ballroom, curious as to what he had in mind.

With a straight backed, regal stride he guides you somewhat further away from the crowd to one of the ornate tapestries hanging along the ballroom walls. He takes a quick look around before peeling back the tapestry and motioning at you. “Come on, hurry up before anyone sees.” he urges, his golden arm gently ushering you in.

It’s dark but as your eyes adjust you can see you’re in an alcove behind the tapestry.

“So this is what you wanted to show me?” you scoff. “There’s nothing here but a blank wall.”

With an impish grin, Lucio leaned in to whisper in your ear. “No, pet. This is what I wanted to show you.”

Without warning his lips crash onto yours, teeth gnashing on teeth, a bit bloody as he bites your lip. His kiss leaves you gasping and breathless as he pulls you in, his tongue slipping into you mouth as your lips part.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never think about that magician again,” Lucio growls.

And that’s what you want isn’t it? To finally forget? No more tea leaves, and the smell of rain or moonlit nights sprawled out on the rooftop.

Now it’s fire and soft fur, the sweet musky smell of roses in the summer sun, and the promise of living deliciously as your hands explore the smooth, superior muscles of his chest. Your fingers tangle in the golden curls as along his pectorals, as your own dress is pushed down to your waist, the shoulder of your dress now snug against your elbows as Lucio cups your breasts, rolling them beneath his coarse, practiced fingers as you keen into his every touch.

"Lucio...Lucio," you whisper as he ravishes your body, his feverish kisses covering your neck and chest, before his canines ghost around your areola, making you shiver. 

"You like that, doll?" He groans as his tongue circles your nipples.

"Y-Yes" your voice shakes while his deft tongue strokes over you again. The fingers of his flesh hand find his way to the folds of your sex, teasing you and touching everywhere except your aching clit.

Impatient, you push his hand to where you want him, but he holds firm, nipping your neck in warning. 

"Not yet, kitten. Daddy wants to play first." 

Teasing your entrance with his fingers Lucio chuckles at hearing needy whines leaving your lips. He slips one, and then two fingers in, growling low at the wetness slicking your thighs and the noises you make for him. Bracing his shoulders, you arch up into his touch,his fingers pumping into you as he devilishly ignores your aching clit. 

“Lucio, please…” You let out a deep frustrated moan,as you rock into his hand. 

“Shh…” Lucio whispers, “Try to stay quiet. At least until we’re alone.”

 He'd pictured making you come undone so many times, and he wanted to savor every moment as he studied your soft features. With your back pressed against the alcove and nothing but a tapestry keeping you from being seen you nod silently, biting your lip as Lucio curls his fingers into you and his thumb flicks across your clit.

“Touch me,” Lucio groans as he grinds against you, pushing you further against the wall. You can feel how hard he is as you palm him through his clothes, making him hiss. 

“Again Lucio," You breathe as you undo his pants, his proud cock presenting itself into your hands, “Tell me again.”

He begs you to touch him, before you start stroking his cock in time with the movements of his fingers inside you and watch him unravel under your touch. This way of making love was different from Asra’s - it was so fervent and needy. Lucio's whimpering, hips thrusting into your touch as you stroke him. “Good...it’s too good,” he growls, his lips never leaving yours. It doesn’t take long for his stuttering thrusts turn into raw unsteady breaths, and those breaths into muffled, masculine groans.

The noise of the party is just outside the rich purple and gold tapestry that created a secret world of passion under its shadow occupied by only you and your Count, his low, distinct voice a heady whisper in you ear.  

 "Please... please let me fuck you my beautiful Magician."

You open your legs in silent approval and with one quick movement he's inside of you. Humping away like a desperate animal. 

"Thank you thank you thank you," he whimpers as he fucks into you murmuring praises and sweet promises."so good, so beautiful."

"Lucio...please. more." You sigh arching up into him.

"Yes, pet. Anything you want. Always what you want" he groans as he fucks harder,

Moving his arms around your body, he brings you close to his chest. His hips slam into you, causing you to bite into his shoulder to muffle your cry at the feeling of his wide head hitting your g-spot. 

“I want you so much, you’re all I fucking think about.” 

He comes, silent and intense as your own orgasm finds you. 

Hurriedly Lucio pulls out of you, quickly helping you dress before arranging his own clothing.

"Follow me, quickly." He growls, his arm locking around your waist as he leads you both from under the tapestry and into the crowd of the ball room. You can only hope you've put your clothing back where it should be. You squeeze your inner muscles tightly when you feel his seed starting to slip out of you, and you blush at the lewdness of it.

Thankfully the bustle around the palace has died down and the corridors are silent as you both made your way to Lucio’s wing. His room was dark and cold when you entered it, and he cursed the servants for their superstitious nature. Although several years have passed since his return, the staff still feared entering his wing.

"Hold on Lucio, I've got it." With a flick of your wrist a roaring fire appears in the fireplace, and you smile in satisfaction.

A blur of white rushes you and in moments you're in Lucio’s bed, naked and breathless as he trails kisses over every inch of your skin. Making you writhe and moan on his fingers once more.

Smirking he removes his fingers, licking them clean while you whine disappointment. You are not empty for long. His cock is nudging at your entrance and you push back onto him, feeling the tip slip in.

“I’m the one giving you all you need. I want you to be mine.” he growls, “Forget Asra, Forget everything else except me.”

He slides into you, pressing a low purr out of you as he bottoms out. His eyes are focused on his length buried inside of you, as Lucio enjoys the mewl leaving your lips.

“Please…”

Gripping your waist Lucio starts moving. He’s sliding slowly in and out of you, letting you savor the feeling of his cock stretching your walls.  Nothing is rushed, but no time is wasted in his lovemaking. 

Hands fisting the sheets, mouth hanging open you cry out in pleasure when he starts dragging you onto his cock with every powerful thrust.  His golden claw digs into your hips, cutting into the skin as he claims you. It’s a slow and desperate burn as the two of you collide.

Lucio watches your reaction when he starts moving faster, going harder to make sure you will fall over the edge once more. He loves the way you lose control when you come, totally falling apart for him.

A lovely and breathless silence fills his chambers as the two of you lay in post coital bliss.

It lays unbroken until you feel him leaving the bed, and your heart sinks. Of course you’re just a one night stand. It was foolish to think any different.

“Please don’t...don’t leave.” Your hand reaches out for him, your eyes clouded with building tears.

You hear a quiet sigh as his fingers slip into yours. “I’m not going anywhere pet,” he soothes. “I’ll stay forever if that’s what you want. I just need to take this off before bed. I’ll tear up the sheets in my sleep if I don’t.”

With one practiced motion he removes his alchemical arm, placing it on the nightstand before returning to your side. With his right arm, he pulls you against his chest before you slide the covers over both of you.

Sleep finds you soft and warm as Lucio holds you. The last thing you see before you close your eyes is his gentle dreamy smile.

The morning afterwards, it feels strange waking up next to someone after spending nearly a month alone.

Even when he isn’t traveling, Asra's usually gone when you wake up--either downstairs working in the shop, trading in the marketplace, visiting the palace or just plain gone. The last time you remember waking up next to someone was your birthday. Asra stayed that day.

But Lucio didn't need a special reason to stay. You were it. "I'll stay forever if you want me to." You remember him saying. The words pulled at your soul, and it felt good even if it wasn't from the person you wanted it from. 

Your newfound desire for the count was a strange feeling that worried you. Suddenly you were panicking, and you began questioning yourself. ‘Oh gods,’ you whisper, careful not to wake the man sleeping next to you. 

 Silently, you slipped out of his bed, white silk sheets slipping away from you as your feet hit the marble floor. Dressing quickly, you stuck your head out the door to peek down the hallway. 

Thankful the coast was clear, and with one final look behind you, you leave-your steps brisk and light as you made your way down the hallway and back to your room, chest pounding as you wondered if last night was a good decision, searching for meaning in every act, every word that was said.

Thank you for reading, and as always your comments are always appreciated! 

P.S. Sorry I didn’t tag anyone who asked. Frankly I have no organizational skills, and my memory is terrible. Please forgive me.

Lucio x Reader 🍋🍋

Gender neutral reader, no pronouns or body parts.

As an Omega, you’ve spent your life yearning for adventure and covering your symptoms with any range of spells and herbs you could find. And the world has been kind to you, keeping you hidden from any Alpha who would wish to have you - until a white wolf appears in your forest sanctuary, golden eyes and blood-stained maw, and your carefully crafted control begins to unravel.

5411 words.

Featuring: omegaverse lore, knotting, breeding kink, cum stuffing, biting/claiming, Alpha Lucio, Omega Reader, some Asra x Muriel, mentions of blood, mentions of starvation

*

If you’re familiar with Omegaverse lore, know that I’ve fiddled with some of it to merge it with what we know of the Arcana universe. If not - welcome, and I hope you enjoy your stay! Here’s an informative page if you want to learn about it before you read, but if not there’s just enough exposition woven throughout the fic to give you the basics. 

Also, the whole ‘consent what consent’ vibe in Omegaverse fics always throws me a bit, so there’s some vaguely political stuff in here to address that. 

This is the second fic (and third prompt) for my Terrifying Ten scorecard!

*

You had never wanted to be an Omega. Or a Beta. Or even an Alpha. You had only ever wanted to be you, and free to do whatever you pleased, and not weighed down by what each label meant, or how others looked at you because of it.

And so you had spent every year since your first heat, that horrifying moment you could no longer deny exactly what you were, trying to figure out new ways to stop or mask it.

Casting spells. Starving yourself. Hiding out in certain magical places to mask your scent. Carrying specific herbs or magical items with you to ward off the all-too-obvious symptoms until you could find sanctuary.

You knew it was dangerous. Illegal, in some parts. The right kind of Omega might be considered property by the wrong kind of Alpha, and the longer an Omega went through their heats without sating them by submitting to an Alpha, the more they risked one day being crippled by them.

But you…you risked it all. All for freedom. All for the world. For wanting to see and explore and live how you wanted and not for someone else.

And all because of what your Aunt had told you one day, when you had been walking past the Count’s palace. Her eyes had glazed over, her voice had become fickle and husky, like it always did whenever she was possessed by the spirits.

And then she had turned to you and whispered the six words you knew you could never escape:

One day he will have you.

*

The air is crisp around you as you push your fingers through the damp soil, seeking the mushrooms and roots you need for your evening meal.

Beside you, a basket is already near-filled with them, all sorts and varieties and colours, ready to be washed and made into stew. You would usually never pick so many for yourself, especially not during your heat when you were too nauseous to eat, but you always enjoyed leaving some for Muriel as a thanks for letting you kick him out of his hut for a week.

You didn’t think you could ever thank him enough, really, but you tried to every moment you could. The sanctuary it allowed for you to have was priceless, and no gift would ever suffice in return.

You drop a few more roots into your basket before dusting the dirt from your hands. A little is still there when you move your hair from your face, and flecks of it catch in the strands and on your cheeks.

You huff quietly under your breath.

—and just barely hear a second, more distance huff join it.

You freeze at the sound, an almost low growl that reverberates through the clearing and straight into your chest.

And that’s when you feel it.

Eyes.

Watching, waiting, curious.

Ready to devour.

You stand on shaking legs, your eyes darting around the edges of the clearing. Three rapid beats of your heart pass before you see it, hidden in the shadows of the trees just beyond reach.

It’s a wolf. White as snow, with two golden eyes and a bloodstained maw that curls back over its glistening teeth.

Your knees nearly buckle at the sight of it, the world stilling around you as its eyes pin you in place. There is a burn at the base of your throat, a thickness you can’t quite dislodge. A soft wind pulls at your clothes, rustles the trees around you, and when the wolf takes a single step forward, you’re hit with the faintest scent of honey.

It’s this that snaps you from your daze, that awakens you enough to release a short gasp as you take a single step back. The wolf’s ears perk, its pupils blow out, but it doesn’t take another step, and you manage to clamber your way back into the hut and slam the back door shut.

You pull every lock but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

You wait out the night in the bedroom upstairs in darkness, all curtains pulled, alone with your thoughts and fears until the sun peaks over the frosted forest trees and you are safe once more.

*

There are no more signs of the wolf, a mere figment of your imagination when you set foot back in the city a week later. Asra sends word that same day of his own return—without Muriel, but with fresh fish from the northern rivers.

And so you venture into the markets that evening with your satchel and coins, determined to have at least something in the house other than dried fruits and stale bread. Perhaps some root vegetables and spices for the fish. Some wine to pair with it.

The city is bustling at the evening hour, and you pick your way through it via a series of back streets and alleys you know well. Already in your bag is a fresh pick of swedes, and your mind is set on the mulled wine from the vendor by Salasi.

As you side step a cart and duck into an alley, you let out a quiet sigh—and are immediately hit with a swoop of heat that nearly crushes you.

It moves from head to toe with brutal force, one clean swoop before it settles in your gut. Your knees give from beneath you, and you barely notice the sting of you palms as you catch yourself on the ground.

Your vision is pinpricks of black, a foggy midnight. Racing heart. Short, shallow gasps.

And when you look up, you see it.

The wolf.

The sounds of the city are so distant, cut off by a fog you barely have the clarity to try and push your way through.

There, in the airless alley, there is nothing in the universe except for you and the white wolf as he paws forward, sharp claws clicking on the cobble.

His eyes are searing into your soul, and with each step he takes closer you find yourself keening, little whines and huffs from somewhere deep in your chest as your fingernails curl into the ground, near snapping from the force.

The wolf comes to a stop before you. As you wait on shaking hands and knees, it presses its nose to your face, your jaw, your neck. It inhales, and with it comes an oh-so-soft growl before it begins to circle.

And there you kneel, barely a day after your heat had already passed, brought down by the Alpha who circles and inhales you like its last meal.

When it steps behind you, you feel quiet noises of protest bubble in your chest, little whispers of no no no no no as he presses his maw between your legs—and with that singular action comes the wolf’s deepest growl yet, one that makes your arms give out from under you.

You fall and curl in on yourself, shaking and shivering even though it feels like a baby sun has found its home in your body, flaring and stretching itself out to every nerve and muscle it can find.

You’re barely aware of the wolf shifting, of its human scent hitting you.

A dying campfire. Honeysuckle.

You gasp out and try to shift out of his arms when he scoops you up.

“No, no,” you moan. “Please—please, I don’t—”

“Ssshhh.”

His voice is so soothing, right against your ear. Gentle. Safe.

You relax, the world slipping for a few moments as you press your face into his chest. His hands—one soft, one hard—curl into your body to keep you close. You sway as he walks, a soft oceanic movement that lulls you, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones.

And then the world goes black.

*

You blink and push yourself up on a shaking hand, the room slowly clearing as you brush the sleep from your eyes.

Every part of you is a little sore, as though you had run for too long without water. It’s daylight. The smell of fresh bread lingers in the room, and a moment later—

Asra appears in the door, soft smile and dazzling eyes as he leans against the frame.

The shop. You’re back in the shop.

“I was wondering when you would wake.”

He has that look about him. That freshly-fucked glow, the kind he always has when he comes back from being railed by a rutting Muriel’s fourteen inch cock for six days straight.

You stand, stretch, rub your face. “Is there food?”

“Plenty. You know I always need to replenish when I’m back.”

Downstairs, there is a ridiculous spread. Dried figs, small chunks of cheese, breads and olive oils, cold cured meats from your favourite market vendor. There is even a small selection of sweets in the corner, placed closest to Asra for ease of access.

The sight of so much food should be overwhelming, but you’re used to it. Asra never puts his money where his mouth is, or rather the food—always says he wants to eat and eat and eat after returning home, when really all he wants is to pick at things like a spoiled concubine.

He lounges on his side by the low table, supported by plush silk cushions while you lower yourself to sit cross-legged opposite him.

The two of you immediately begin working through the food while he talks about his plans for the week, how the weather will turn just enough for the two of you to spend a night out in the fields stargazing.

You murmur and agree to each thing, though you don’t really remember them once he moves on to the next one. Your concentration isn’t normally so poor, and if he notices you thinking on it, he doesn’t say a thing.

The spread of food slowly clears, until about half remains, and Asra has stopped picking.

You have a piece of toast halfway to your mouth when it hits you. Hazy and not entirely there and curious.

The alley. The wolf. The…the scent.

“Are you alright, love?” Asra asks, his voice coming to you as though through a thick fog.

You’re frowning, eyes unfocused. You don’t know if you’re alright. You can’t quite recall how you got home, or what happened after the scent.

Asra’s face shifts. He reaches out for your knee, squeezes. Your hazy memories become a little more so, and then you blink, and they are gone.

You exhale softly, and accept a small circle of cheese Asra pushes toward you. Your cheeks bloom in your happiness: it’s your favourite, a kind only available in a far-off city on the continent.

Grabbing it up with unapologetic greed, you take your first bite and release a soft moan. Asra beams at your pleasure, and the final sliver of uncertainty eases itself from the room.

“How did your week go?” He asks.

You nod, and you tell him it went well. You got a lot of reading done. You tried to paint. Muriel has a new row of herbs in his garden, though you couldn’t say what—identifying seeds has never been your specialty.

Asra’s eyes light up, and he laughs. “Muri will adore them, I’m sure.”

And you smile back, and bite into your toast.

“Last time I changed something in his hut,” you remind him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “He pouted for a week. Remember? He hated those carvings. Said he wanted to move out, they were so hideous.”

Asra’s lips twitch up, but something seems to fall, too. You tilt your head and watch as his gaze lingers for a second longer, then loses the fight and drops away.

“He’s…not leaving the hut, is he?” You ask slowly, a little more alert. And then, with a slightly tighter chest, “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He shakes his head, no, and then shrugs.

“Maybe. Muri is getting restless anyway,” he says. His gaze drops to his hands, where he’s picking at his nail beds. “He wants pups.”

“Do you?”

And then, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, a resigned, “Yeah.”

But. There’s a ‘but’ there, one you know not to push.

With the remains of your meal scattered and a new weight settled over the shop, you stand and begin to collect whatever you can save for the next day. Asra remains in his spot, staring at his nail beds, until you crouch by him and kiss his head, nodding toward your shared room.

*

The day melts into the afternoon, until the sun begins to disappear beneath the skyline and you’re stirred from your dozing by the sounds of rapping at the shop door.

Asra murmurs and stretches out beside you, then slowly unfurls each of his limbs from each of yours and moves for the door. Faust slithers out from the sheets at the foot of the bed and curls into the curve of your neck, and the two of you are very nearly back to sleep when Asra returns with a small piece of paper bearing the palace seal on the back.

He holds it up to you between two fingers, nose crinkled in mild distaste.

“It’s—” You pause to yawn, murmuring quietly as you sit up and rub at your eyes. “It’s from the Countess?”

Asra nods.

“The Count’s ruts have been getting longer and longer,” he sighs. The paper vanishes in a puff of magic, and he begins to gather his scarf and coat as he speaks. “And she can only be alone with the insufferable twat for so long herself.”

Your lips twitch a little at the comment, and he slings his bag over his shoulder before offering out a hand for Faust to slither up.

“Muriel isn’t back in the city yet,” he says, looking a little worried. “Will you be okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” you assure. You lean forward to kiss Faust on her nose, and then flop back down into the sheets, ready to settle in for another nap. “Wake me when you get back.”

Asra murmurs his goodbye, and you’re already slipping when he closes the shop door behind him.

Until another rapping comes, this time much firmer and a little more impatient.

Near blind, you push yourself up and stumble toward the door, still rubbing sleep from your eyes with the heel of your palm as you open the door.

And before you stands your white wolf.

Count Lucio.

You know it without thought, without consideration, as though every nerve in your body knew the exact feel of the flames that licked at them whenever he came close, in whichever form he chose.

You wait for it to hit you, that crippling heat, that burning need, but as you stare up at him through your lashes and his canines glint in the torchlight, you find nothing inside of yourself except your own racing heart.

You pause before you speak, body still as your eyes flicker over his face. “How—how did you know Asra would leave?”

He peers into the shop and steps inside, not waiting for an invitation as he looks around.

“I was a particularly insufferable twat today,” he tells you. “So that Noddy would request your master’s company.”

You exhale hard to cover the shake in your chest as you close the door, and against your better judgement you lock it.

“He’s…not my master,” you murmur to him.

He turns to you, canines glinting in the torchlight. “No. He’s not.”

With long, sure strides he stalks toward you, and of your own accord your eyes drop down and you walk yourself back until you hit the wall. He gives a low growl of approval, and—

There it is again, that scent, honeysuckle and a dying fire. Your eyes flutter shut; you can already feel the promise of what comes next.

“You’ll find I’m not a patient Alpha, my sweet,” he murmurs to you.

His alchemical arm reaches down, you feel it brush against the fabric of your clothes before he pulls something out. Your eyes catch on it, but you still can’t look up, still can’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“What is that?” You ask.

But of course, you know what it is.

“You know what it is,” he answers, an impatient lilt there. “Though perhaps you haven’t been knowledgeable in the ways you’ve been using it.”

He holds it out, and you take it in trembling fingers.

Myrrh. You knew it well, despite your attempt at ignorance. Muriel used it so people forgot him, and you used it to ignore what you were.

Asra had introduced it to you as something he himself had used in his battle to fight off his own heat and find true love instead—something that had clearly worked, and knowing that Muriel and Asra were as much in love as they were mated kept you religious about carrying it with you wherever you went.

With a clever combination of other herbs and spells, it kept the worst of it at bay. The pain was still there, but not the crippling heat, not the burning desire to be fucked and pupped without conscious choice.

You had never submitted to an Alpha, and you had never attracted any.

Until now.

Lucio tuts, pushes the hair from your face, laughs with an almost condescending edge.

“You’ve never submitted to an Alpha before now because you were waiting for me. This—“ He snatches it back to brandish it, then crushes it in his alchemical hand with a scoff. “This means nothing. That day in the forest I could have had you, could have pinned you and pupped you while you screamed.”

You shiver at his words. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Because you said ‘no’. Then, and last night when you collapsed in the alley. I’m an Alpha, but I’m not a monster.”

He traces your bottom lip, and it trembles then parts as your tongue darts out, hesitantly lapping at the tip of his thumb. You dare a glance up and see the approval in his eyes, the darkening of his irises, and your stomach leaps at the look. You turn your head and close your lips over his thumb, whimpering and whining as you suckle.

“You won’t last forever, pet,” he says. “You will have to submit. Your body demands it. Even now I can see the sweat of your brow, the tremble in your thighs…the myrrh and spells hide the symptoms but they don’t erase them forever.”

And at his words, your entire body shudders and you drop against him. It’s the alley all over again, a heat licking up your spine and every nerve, clawing at your veins, you’re whimpering and whining and the only thing you know is honeysuckle and dying woodfire.

He is growling, muscles rolling, pressing you against the wall as he nuzzles into your neck, as he paws at your clothes.

Say it say it say it say it—

You don’t know what he’s asking for, your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your chest heaving, you need it now, you need to be rewarded, filled, fucked, pupped—

The thought slams into you without elegance and without warning, and you gasp out and shove him away, but he comes right back. He smashes his lips to yours, teeth clashing as he ruts his hips into your thigh.

“Say it!” He growls; it’s deeper, it echoes in your mind, demands. An Alpha’s voice.

You whimper, and the word tumbles from your lips in a pathetic cry.

“YES!”

And then he’s on you. He’s shredding your clothes, his teeth are at your neck, grazing and threatening to mark. You can feel the heat of his cock as he throws you down onto the table, you part your legs whining and clawing at the wood.

He snorts at the sight of you, a cold sneer as he looks you over. “What am I supposed to do with you like this? Present yourself.”

You scramble to roll over onto your stomach and push your hips into the air. You can feel your sudden heat lashing at your body, causing arousal to drip down your thighs, lubricating you for everything to come. You push your hips back, panting and whimpering, trying so desperately to find the heat of his cock.

His cock, his seed, to be filled, to be swelled, to be knotted and held there and bred and pupped and fucked over and over and over again—

“Please!” You whine and look over your shoulder, but he growls and pushes your head back down.

“Behave yourself.”

You feel his cock press into your inner thigh, and you know he must have shifted into his mating form, because no human cock could be so large, so thick. You shudder, your eyes sting from desperation.

He just laughs. An Alpha in control, desperate to fuck you and pup you, but he won’t make it easy for you to get what you want.

“Please!” You gasp out again. “I’ll—I’ll be good, I promise—”

“Oh, my dear little Omega,” he purrs into your shoulder blade. He pauses to graze his teeth there, and you go near-feral from the sting. “You will be good no matter what, my cock will see to that. Have you ever taken a cock this big before?”

You shake your head.

“Have you ever taken cock at all?”

You swallow, and when you don’t answer, his grip on your hips tightens.

“AH!” You yelp and jerk away from the bruising, but he drags you right back with a warning growl. 

The action causes the head of his cock to slip into you, and you sob at the stretch of it, as the ache in your body burns even deeper at the knowledge that he’s inside of you, but not enough to sate you.

“Do you want my cock, little Omega?” He purrs. “Do you want me to fill you?” You give a pathetic whine. “Oh, you do? Well, then perhaps you should ask for it.”

Your words begin bubbling out before you can stop them.

“Please, please please—”

He scoffs. “Better than that, my dearest.” 

His alchemical fingertips trace the curve of your spine. You clench and shudder around the head of his cock, but he remains perfectly still. 

“Tell me exactly how you want me to take you.”

Your eyes roll as you gather your next words.

“I—I want—” You attempt to turn your face into the table to hide yourself, the drooling mess of your mouth, the crossing of your eyes, but he twists you back with an impatient growl. “PLEASE! Please, f-fuck me, please fuck me, fill me with your cock, breed me and pup me and fuck me please—”

Your words snap his final ounce of control, and he slams into you in one go with a howl, one that seems to shake the walls of the shop and every object on the shelves.

An Alpha’s howl.

A claiming howl.

The Count of Vesuvia, finally having found his Omega.

He begins fucking you without warning, long and thick strokes you know couldn’t possibly fit inside you. But they do, your body has shifted along with his own and every inch of him can fit inside of your dripping hole.

The room echoes with wet squelching noises as he moves at a brutal pace, his growing knot and balls slamming against you as he buries himself as deep as possible each time.

“Ohhh, does that feel better, pet?” He croons to you. “Does it feel good having my cock inside of you, fucking you like the submissive little bitch you are after you spent so long denying it?”

You nod and gasp, nails dragging along the oak of the table as you try to gain purchase to push back. You want his knot. You need it so bad, you need to be filled—

You sob. “P-please!”

“’Please’?” He laughs, and the barely-hidden edge makes that final hold on you snap.

“I WANT YOUR KNOT!” You scream. “I need your cum—I need it please—”

He reaches forward and closes a hand around your neck, yanking you up and back against his chest. His movements don’t still as both arms close around your waist, caging you in.

“I’ll knot you,” he murmurs into the back of your neck. “I’ll fill you with my cum and then my pups and watch you swell with them over and over again—” You whine as he speaks, and the deep growl from his chest is his approval. “But first, you must give me something in return.”

And then you feel it—the scrape of his too-sharp canines against your neck.

He wants to mark you.

Claim you.

Make you his, and only his, for everyone to see.

“Yes!” You gasp it out without even thinking, without needing to. “Mark me, I’m yours, I’m your mate—”

He lets out a feral growl at the word. “Say it again.”

“M-mate, I’m—” You feel your grip on reality slip, just for a moment, only to be brought back by his hand at your throat, shaking you as he rattles your body with his brutal pace.

“Louder, again—scream it for the city to hear!”

“MATE!”

His hand tightens just that little bit more.

“Again!”

“MATE, I’M YOUR MATE—AH!”

His teeth sink in, right as his knot does, and it’s the most exquisite pain you have ever felt in your life.

While his teeth cut into your neck and mark you with his scent, claiming you forever as his, his knot stretches you to its impossible size, locking you to him as his cum spills inside of you, copious and hot and thick.

You groan and whine and whimper at the feel, the world blacking out for a few moments as your body strains to take it all in. No world, no words, no time; just the warmth of his cum as it swells your stomach, the sweat that trickles down your collar bone along with the blood that stains your skin and his teeth.

When you return to consciousness a moment later, your own orgasm is rocking through you. It’s burning you from the inside out, leaving you dazed and aching, squeezing around his swollen cock and knot, greedily draining him and everything he is offering you.

As you start to come down, panting and gasping, you can feel something at your thighs. You realise, with heavy eyes and barely-there mewls, that there is so much of his cum inside of you, flooding you, that it has leaked out past his knot. It’s dribbling down your heated skin, following the curve of your thigh, the back of your knee, to the floor with soft little pats.

You let out a soft cry as he pulls his canines from your neck, then laves at the marks with his tongue to seal them. Your hand goes to your stomach, still so impossibly swollen with his cum—and one day, if he had his way, with more than his cum.

His hand joins yours at your stomach, pressing gently. You groan in protest at the ache, and he shushes you with a kiss behind your ear as more of his cum leaks out and runs down each of your legs.

“Oh little Omega, look at the mess you’ve made,” he murmurs.

His voice is quiet now, the Alpha sated, though it’s only temporary. Within half an hour, his knot will have receded, and he will be ready to fuck you again, and knot you again, and fill you with his cum again, over and over throughout the night and well into the next few days, until his rut is over and he has had his fill.

You let out a soft cry as he shifts the two of you to stretch out along the table, his body curved along your spine.

“You’ve been coupling thistle with the myrrh, have you not?” He asks.

You nod. Even though you were so careful to never be exposed to an Alpha until now, you still took the precautions to prevent pregnancy.

“That will have to stop immediately,” he murmurs into the back of your neck. He nuzzles with his nose, and then presses a single, slow, open-mouthed kiss there. “I want you swollen with my pups.”

You swallow thickly, and when you don’t nod or make a noise to agree, he reaches forward and roughly takes hold of your chin. Your eyes go to his lips, feeling the Alpha roll through him again, you can’t meet his gaze.

“Do you not want my pups?” You shake your head. “’No’, you don’t want them, or ‘no’, I’m wrong?”

You swallow. His grip tightens. You whimper, and in response you feel his cock twitch inside of you, setting off a new round of heat that begins to curl around your abdomen and the base of your spine.

You’re already panting a little when you answer. “I want your pups. I want to be your—your breeding bitch.”

“Good mate,” he murmurs. His hand goes back to your stomach, pressing against the swell of it once more.

As if pulled by strings, you whine and twitch against him, and his body rolls with a growl as he nuzzles into your neck.

“B-but—” You gasp it out, and feel him freeze behind you. But he waits. “I…I want to wait. Please. I don’t think I can handle…pups, right now.” You swallow, and when he still hasn’t said a word, you add in a whisper, “I want to see the world.”

It seems like an eternity before he speaks, or moves, or gives you any indication of what he feels. His lips remain at the back of your neck, and his hand against your stomach, the pressure there just enough to be a constant reminder of how full you are of him.

“I would never dream of taking your autonomy from you,” he murmurs, breaking the silence. “If you wish to be swathed in silks, then I will find the best out there. If you wish to spend your days lounging in my palace without lifting a finger, then I shall assign you a thousand hands to help. And if you wish to see the world…”

Your breath catches in your throat. You can hear the shake on his voice, the barely-contained Alpha—and beneath it all, the terrified Count Lucio, afraid that affection will not remain forever. That you will not remain forever.

“…then you will see the world.”

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to thank him. Instead, you lift a hand to his wrist, holding it against your throat for the comfort and security it offers.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments before you feel him tensing behind you, the Alpha’s growl building in his chest.

“I will fuck you on every surface in this shop until sunrise,” he says, voice deathly still. “Until you can no longer walk, until you can no longer swallow my cum or fit any more of it inside your aching hole, and even then. And if your master returns, I’ll make him watch—maybe I will even make him join, no matter who his Alpha is. How does that sound, pet?”

You’re shivering from the heat again; without the myrrh and with your Alpha so close by, with your new mark burning at your neck, there is little to do.

Everything he says sounds so wonderful. So delicious. You want to be fucked and bred and swollen and held down while he does whatever he needs to you, while he coos to you about how much of his cum is inside of you, how swollen and aching you are, how pretty it looks dribbling down your thighs and leaving drops on the wooden floor of the shop.

All too soon, before you have even managed to answer, you feel him beginning to pull out of you. Along with it, some of his seed spills out onto the table, and you feel tears sting your eyes at the loss.

Until he rights you, hips in the air, and rakes his claws down your spine as he leans in to whisper.

“Spread yourself apart for me like a good little breeding slut.”

And then he slams himself into you once more.

*

🍑 Requesting | Masterlist | My Ao3

"Asra," you murmur, smiling despite yourself.

"Love, that dream again?" he asks, hands holding you in close.

"I'm sorry to wake you," you say softly.

He presses his nose in against the back of your neck. "I'll have to make you forget about it."

sleepy sex, mild hurt/comfort, minific

2nd person, part of the Terrifying Ten challenge by @vesuviannights

Thranduil x Fem!: The Fire of our Love

Note: Here is my first part for @vesuviannights ‘s The Terrifying Ten Writing Challenge. I have decided that if I am going to be able to complete this, they will have to be very short.

Check out my masterlist for more!

Prompt: Angsty Death (our choice of things to write about that we have not done before)

Warnings: Angst, Death, Fire, bad writing

She was sobbing uncontrollably, her chest tightening, barely allowing her to breathe. The end hadn’t even come, yet somehow it felt like she died ages ago. She was filled with an immense pain, a pain that never did she think would exist. It was the sort of pain that felt like the weight of the whole world was crashing on top of you. For this was how it truly seemed to be when you lose someone so close to you. No, this was what it feels like losing the love of your life and your own life at the same time.

But that was not all that she felt, the burning sensation of a heat climbing up her skin, a blaze that had not yet reached them.

He kissed her brow as the world around them burned. “See you in the next life, my love,” he whispered.

It was only for a moment when everything had calmed. Her heart no longer racing, the tears no longer spilling. She could only focus on the shine of the eyes that she fell in love with, for now they were no longer cold, but filled with a beautiful starry gaze that told the whole story.

She wanted to scream, to tear at everything around her, to fight back in an unknown way. This was also with helplessness felt like. She could barely whisper herself, the words barely leaving her soft lips, the lips that he adored so much.

“I don’t want to go,” she whimpered, letting down all her walls, showing her vulnerable side. She hugged him tighter and tighter, for she knew this would be the last time she would hold him so. There may be a next life after this, but who is to know, all the stories and all the legends that we are told us children may not even have an ounce of truth in them.

And although she would have loved to focus on the life that they had lived together, to be eternally grateful to have even met him, it was not that way.

“I will always love you,” they said in unison, finally being engulfed by the flames.

And in this way their story came to an end, but they would forever stay alive in spirit, their love will be an immortal symbol for all.

Be Not Afraid

Post #1 for the Terrifying Ten (an awesome month-long writing challenge by @vesuviannights that I am starting almost halfway through the month lmao): A fic with only dialogue (with an added bonus of what I hope is a good use of formatting as visual storytelling).

Description: A story in which a spirit questions and the void answers. Set after a very important deal was made.

Fandom: The Arcana

Characters: MC, ???

                ___________________________________________

Are you awake, my dear?

I have been for some time.

Good. We shall be done soon.

Where am I?

You have traveled a long distance to get here. But soon it will not matter.

Who are you?

Who I am is unimportant. In time, you and I will be one and the same. 

Who am I? 

A precious one. The one this is all for. The one who will either save all mankind or condemn it.

Is that the only answer you have for me?

That is the only answer that matters.

Where am I going?

Home.

Where is home?

In the arms of another. It is waiting for you on the other side.

I don’t remember home.

Home is not the only thing you’ve forgotten. But you will remember when you are ready. Home will receive you when it is time.

How will I know that I’m ready?

You won’t. Only time is willing to tell. And, with the truth, it will bring a trial.

Will it be dangerous?

Yes. 

Will it be painful?

Very much so. But it will temper you, make you stronger, if you allow it to.

I don’t understand.

That is to be expected.

You have answered my questions, yet I have gained no knowledge.

In time, you will find that you held the answers all along.

…...

Are you frightened?

Yes.

Be not afraid, dearest one. This is what you were born to do.

What is happening? 

It is time for us to go.

I don’t want to go. 

It is what must be done.

Please don’t leave me…. I don’t want to be alone.

You will never be alone. I will always be with you. 

Do you promise?

…

…

I promise.

Sir Knight, Taj

Introducing, Madame Tajira

People left Vesuvia in droves after the horrendous situation involving the palace and word spread like wildfire, traveling with the survivers and bystanders alike, plummetting the country into poor conditions. Abandoned businesses and homes meant suffering economy, with land becoming cheaper and cheaper to encourage people to move back or stay; It had become destitute and were it not for the Magician, the Lovers, and the Fool's constant support and efforts, nothing would have remained. The Countess had no supporters left.

"Serves her right, doing this to me..." Said the bitter, homeless former Count as he read a discarded news paper in an alley. He crumpled it up and tossed it away, ducking behind a few trash cans to avoid the royal guard as they marched by.

He had been lurking in the shadows since begging wasn't feeding him enough, turning to petty theft. The shop and store owners became fed up in a matter of weeks, and had reported his worthless ass without a second thought. He scratched at his patchy beard and looked at his worn, dingy clothes. Suddenly the concept of wearing all white became incredibly overrated. "No one in all the history of mankind..." he grumbled to himself, slinking from back alley to back alley like common trash. He slipped in a puddle of Lord-knows-what and screeched indignantly. "Has ever suffered as I am now!!!" He growled, gritting his teeth as the cool, foul smelling liquid seeped into his pants.

"Hey, wasn't that-"

"Oh, that was definitely him."

It's too bad Lucio was so horrible at being inconspicuous. The rapid clang of metal approaching didn't allow him time to dwell on his miserable fate and he quickly staggered to his feet, trying to find a place to hide. It was at this moment that the worn leather heels that he had refused to give up upon his banishment broke, sending him careening to the ground. The last thing he remembered was the feel of cold cobblestone against his face and the metal clang from the knights armor as they surrounded him.

A splash of ice water snatched him from his unconscious state. He looked around frantically, realizing that he was flanked by a knight on both sides, each holding onto a chain that was coiled around his body. He immediately began to rant and struggle. "What the hell is this!? I can take you both--"

"Settle down, Count Lucio." Said a smooth, sultry female voice.

He followed the sound of the voice upwards to a dais, where a petite woman clad in armor stood looking down at him. More careful inspection made him realize that she wasn't alone too; There was a semicircle of about 11 chairs a behind her, all except 1 occupied by very regal and well dressed individuals with decorated faces masks, and head pieces.

"...Or I should say, former Count." The woman continued speaking. "Yes... The former Count of a bastardization of a country. It's a shame what you have been reduced to."

Lucio growled.

"Judgement will be enacted here, today, on you, dear Lucio. You are charged with several counts of theft, threats, harassment, and even a couple of physical assaults due to your behavior involving my lovely citizens. Your testimony begins now. My council will then take a vote based off of your word and your word alone, leaving me to consider their opinions before I make the final decision. How do you plea?"

"Not guilty!" He shouted, "Your townspeople are so stingy and selfish! You'd think they'd help me out, but no!"

The woman laughed shrewdly, glancing over her shoulder at the council members. "Okay, Lucio. While you do seem adamant in your stance, there are a few specific charges that I must ask you about. Did you steal food from any of the local vendors?"

"I would hardly call such gruel 'food'!"

"Did you get into a fight with a man whom you claimed to be 'being greedy' because he bought what you considered an excess amount of fruit and refused to share with you?

"Who eats THAT much fruit?"

"Did you threaten or menace at any children for teasing you on the streets?"

"Those brats were asking for it! They're lucky I didn't tan their hides!"

The woman fell silent for a brief moment. "Is there anything else you would like me to know, Count?"

"Your backstreets are filthy, these chains are awful, and --"

"About your case, Lucio."

"Nope. Clearly I've done nothing wrong. So whaddya say? I'm done now, right?"

She laughed shortly again. "Very well then. Regarding the testimony of the accused, Grand Council, how say you?"

One by one each elaborately decorated Noble rose and stated their verdict, which turned out to be unanimous. "Guilty."

"Mmhmm. Duly noted." She nodded. "Count Lucio, if you'll look to your left you'll see that carved into the white stone walls of this arena is a lion. On the opposite side, to your right is a bull. These are permanent symbols of the two houses that came together to build this country and comprise it's nobility. As such, I am to adhere to the laws set by each house in my position as acting Princess of Pierreblanc."

She leapt elegantly from the dais and landed a perfect summersault in the center of the arena, approaching Lucio slowly until she stood before him. "You have a stunning lack of discipline and are completely irresponsible, which means that the short-comings that riddle your life are rooted in your childhood. Therefore, where other people have failed you, I shall succeed. You will be properly trained and imparted with the skills and knowledge to function as a productive member of my society."

She gestured to the lion carving. "Through the dignity and authority on my left side," and then raised the other hand to point to the bull. "Partnered with the magnanimity and valor of my right... This is true justice, for the ignorant cannot be properly tried." Her voice echoed throughout the arena. "Have you any legitimate way or reason to contest my judgement?"

His eyes widened in a mix of fear and shock. "What are you on about? You aren't going to let me go!?"

She laughed, far too amused by Lucio's attitude to correct his manners. "Then I shall make my ruling immediately. I, Princess Tajira of Branch Et Serpentium, declare that you, former Count of Vesuvia 'Lucio' Montag Morgasson, be sentenced to indefinite full-time etiquette training with Most High advisor and royal tutor, Giles Christophe. Guards, that will be all."

***

The Guards escorted Lucio all the way from the arena to the fantastic display of architecture that was the Pierreblanc Palace. The stones that composed the building were bright white and perfectly polished, making them reflect every color of the rainbow and giving the entire thing an ethereal quality. There were many slick curves and perfect arches that gave it a unique silhouette and the gates were twinkling gold. Even Lucio was stunned into silence.

Awaiting him there was a clean cut purple haired man and a team of six maids.

"You may release him." He said to the guards that held Lucio's chains. "Quickly now, he desperately needs to be bathed and fed." They wasted no time in heeding the orders, finally removing the biting metal from the former Count's wrists and neck.

"I am Giles Christophe and by royal decree you are my responsibility from this moment on. I will ensure that Madame Tajira is satisfied with your reformation, but for now we will escort you to your personal quarters and attempt to make you presentable at once. Understood?"

"Great! Finally some proper treatment around here."

Giles merely frowned his disapproval. The Princess told him that he'd have his work cut out for him in even before her officers had made the arrest.

**

"He's kind of a bimbo, but if anyone can fix him, it's you."

"If you don't mind my asking Madame, why not one of our traditional corrections facilities?"

"Ah, yes." She had said, lounging in her tub full of sweet smelling bubbles, a bath girl feeding her small slices of fruit. "It's gotten very stuffy around here, so he will be a breath of fresh air- A ray of sunshine even! Just fix him up a bit." She said, waving her hand dismissively. "He is nothing to be concerned about."

**

Giles shook his thoughts away as he lead Lucio to his quarters, the maids in tow. "Her Majesty has personally selected and furnished this room for you." He said as he opened the door and gestured in.

The room was gorgeous; the farthest wall of it was made entirely of sliding glass doors, which opened up to huge balcony tiled in sparkling opal. The bed was a magnificent piece of art and the centerpiece of the room. It was low sitting and round with a blue chiffon canopy that extended from the ceiling to veil it. Much bigger than a king sized bed, it had no defined head or foot board but instead carved polyhedron railings to stand in their places.

Lucio didn't have much time to admire though, as he was then led out of a pair of double doors within the room. Exiting, he noted that suddenly he was two maids short. It went outside to a tall stone staircase that led down to a what appeared to be an empty pool. There were towering white and gold marble lion statues on each side of it. "Her taste isn't half bad! Much better than her attitude." He said to no one in particular.

Giles exhaled with annoyance, "Ladies, if you'd please." He said to the maids as he moved to a bench that sat near the pool, sending them into perfectly practiced action. They all disrobed to reveal different variations of soft, elegant curvature that could only be described as uniquely female and split into teams of two. One set used magic to get themselves atop the lion heads; Completely synchronized, they put their hands together as if meditating and water began to flow down from the mouths of the lions, and into the pool. In conjunction with them, the others began quickly undressing Lucio, leaving him bared from his rags in a matter of moments. "My, my ladies, one at a time..." He remarked, as if he wasn't in desperate need of care.

Little to no maintenance had been done to him since his eviction from Vesuvia so his skin was sunburnt and dirty, not to mention his overgrown facial hair and chipped nails. Even his golden arm had lost all of its luster and most of its magic, making it hard for it to function. His stench was wretched to the noses of everyone within arms reach as well. Certainly he needed to be cleansed as soon as possible. "This water is freezing!" He cried out, as the girls pulled him down few stairs that led into the pool. "I can't bathe like this! Back in MY palace there was hot water!"

"Give them a moment." Giles said sharply, having had his fill of Lucio's commentary.

He winced at the harshness of Giles' tone but, remained silent as the girls in the bath with him hovered their hands over the water, transferring heat into it. Goosebumps began to spread across his skin as the water warmed considerably. Before long, the pool was filled and the other duo had climbed down from the Lions. They moved to the statues' mounts which had hidden compartments that held towels, sponges, soaps, and an assortment of crystals. Each grabbed their own selections, placing them in decorative woven baskets and joined the others in the water.

Yellow and blue crystals were placed about the water, giving it a mysterious green glow with the relaxing energy blanketing the space. As soon as the soothing aura touched every corner of the water, the same girls who had undressed Lucio, grabbed soap and sponges from the baskets now afloat and went to work.

As they scrubbed his skin, layers of caked up dirt and sweat mixed with the suds and permeated the water. He moaned as they went further down, switching to a soft cloth to clean his dick and balls. They were thorough and gentle, massaging and caressing his sack until he was at full attention. A small crystal chair was synthesized with stone magic for him to be seated, so that his hair could be washed. It was so greasy that the shampoo wouldn't lather when the girl- the one Lucio thought the cutest, massaged it into his scalp.

She had olive skin and green eyes, with freckles and black hair. Her fingers felt like magic as they danced across his head, scrubbing diligently until finally, on the third go, the shampoo lathered into a nice foam. He relaxed into the touches of her and her tall, slender partner who had just finished washing his chest and was now seated on his lap, massaging his shoulders. "Ohhh, this is more like it..." He moaned, "Hey, what're your names?"

"I see you're enjoying my girls, Lucio." Came the Princess' voice from the long stairwell. "The one who washes your hair is called Ariella. Zafira is on your lap." She stepped directly into the pool without regard for the thin, loosely tied white robe she wore, carrying a long decorative case.

As the two maidens that prepared the baskets made the glowing water circulate around them, Tajira approached, giving a kiss each to Ariella and Zafira. Slowly, she trailed her fingers down Lucio's golden arm. "Mmm...What magnificent piece this was in your glory days, Wasn't it Count?" He frowned but otherwise made no comment as she let her fingers carefully trace over every detail and intricacy of the arm. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful..." She whispered, free hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Can you feel my touches, Lucio?" He widened his eyes, unprepared for the question.

"O-Of course I can feel it!" He shouted. She raised an eyebrow. "I mean...Well, mostly... Somewhat." He conceded, blushing. "It doesn't exactly work like it used to."

"I didn't think so." Taj said, her own magic bleeding into his shoulder, making it tingle.

"Hey, what are you--!" He began to protest. Suddenly, the golden prosthetic popped off, falling into the water and sinking to the bottom of the pool. "Why did you do that!?!" He cried out in alarm, girls still draped over him. Without a word, she popped open the fancy case that she was carrying to reveal perhaps the most sumptuous piece of work that Lucio had ever laid eyes on.

An arm. Crafted of diamond-- the purest blue diamond. With perfectly sized gold scales and 4 mounted red andesine going up it's shoulder. "I know red is your preferred color, but as you assimilate into the House, I would like you to look the part. I hope it still within the parameters of your taste. Will you accept my gift?"

He ran his fingers over the smooth finish of the diamond underside, to the perfect ridges of the golden scales, and then finally, over the bright red stones that decorated the piece. It even had tiny, fine-line etchings on it. "Yes!" He said with childlike enthusiasm, "I can really have it?"

"Certainly." She said with a glimmer of a smirk. "We will have it attached for you as soon as you're settled."

"Well Tajira, was it?" he said seductive smile tugging on his lips.

"Taj, please." She said. Giles’ small gasp could be heard in the background.

"Taj, then. I am very, very thankful for your present. You know, if there's anything that you want me to do to repay you, I'll do it." He batted his long blonde lashes at her. With his erect cock out and two beautiful women clinging to him, pouting and writhing in place it was incredibly hard to deny...

"Not yet." Taj reminded herself in her head. She bristled in place, eyes having gone slightly hooded and dark as she slowly closed the case for the arm. She loathed denying the throbbing of her nether regions. "No..." She said out loud. "You won't ever have to pay me back."

"What? You're sure?" He asked in disbelief.

"No, no, it doesn't work like that. This my pleasure. Giles, hold onto it for him." She said, exiting the water. The white fabric, now see through clung to her as she approached him, accentuating her thick thighs, toned calves, and perky rump. "Bring him to dinner after you're done in here. I want the Council and House Advisors to see him up close and groomed before you begin the discipline process.

"Yes, Madame." Giles nodded slowly. "You-- You're certain of this choice? To have him before the Nobles without any training?"

"It's not as if they can tell me not to." She shrugged casually. "And it's not as if I will allow them to question your advisory skills, If that's what you are concerned about." She kissed his cheek, patting his shoulder lightly. "Now, I must go dress myself." She continued with a nod. "I shall see you all tonight." And with that, she swept out of the room.

Ch.1 End.

Hope you enjoyed! There will be another part!

Baby It’s Cold Outside: Cuddling for warmth fics Featuring the cast of the Arcana

Hi! Happy holidays to you all! What I have to present to you is a series of arcana fics inspired by the song ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’. This will be part of my submissions for The Terrifying Ten challenge posted by @vesuviannights​ !

I wrote this with dozens of little cuts all over my hands that I sustained from winter weather mishaps. So let it be said that I suffered for my art. Okay here we go, here’s the first one:

It was bitterly cold in Vesuvia. Frost covered cobblestone streets outside the shop, but you didn’t worry- you had long salted the walkway outside the shop and had plenty of coal for the salamander to burn. 

Inside the shop was warm and cozy, a perfect shelter for you, Asra and Faust. As you listened to the winter winds howl and shake the glass windows you thought about the nice pot of tea Asra was making in the kitchen and smiled as you tallied the days earnings. 50 gold coins, not bad for a days work. It was more than enough to pay for the weeks needs, although half of that would have to go towards heating.

With a sigh you put the earnings away in the till before joining Asra in the kitchen.

He smiled warmly when you entered, nodding towards your place at the table.

“Tea’s almost done sweetheart,” he said right before the kettle whistled. 

“Looks like I was right on time,” You giggled as he rushed to grab cups for you both. You got up to help him, but he insisted he could do it himself. 

“Sit down, love, you’ve been at the counter all day. You deserve a break.” Asra reasoned as he poured the tea and set milk and sugar on the table. He carried the cups to the table, putting yours before you before he took a seat across from you, legs crossed. His usual smile was on his face but behind his eyes you could tell something was worrying him.

“Uh-oh,” you said. “I know that face. That’s your ‘Love, I have something to tell you, but you won’t like it’ face. ” You sighed, “Go ahead and spill it.”

Asra smiled apologetically and stretched his hand out into yours.  “I have to go out on another journey. Tonight,” he confessed.

“WHAT?!” you seethe, beside yourself with disbelief. “But Asra, honey it’s cold outside. Can’t you just wait? Why do you have to go out at all?” you ask, frustrated. You didn’t like when he would leave and didn’t understand why he chose the coldest night of the year to venture out.

“The sky is clear, the moon is bright enough to light my way,” he explained. The sky always seemed to be the clearest when it was cold. This journey was important: to delay would be to lose time he didn’t have. His amethyst eyes fixed onto yours before he spoke, his decision was final. “I really can’t stay. I’ve got to go away tonight.” 

He repeated it once more while standing at the front door, wrapping his long scarlet scarf tightly around his neck. 

You sighed, finally giving in as you buttoned his coat and pulling him in by his collar for a kiss.There was no arguing with him when he decided to go, but you tried anyway. “Stay warm Asra, and come back soon,” you whisper against his lips.

When he opens the door you get a taste of the cold before it closes again. “Cold!” Faust shivers. You pick her up and she slivers up your sleeve, her head peeking out by your wrist. “Asra, dumb.” she hissed her tongue wriggling out.

“Yeah but we love him anyway,” you grinned, trying to hide your concern for Asra from her. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t stay gone too long.” 

You and Faust sit by the fire for awhile, and eventually you find yourself nodding off to sleep in front of the warm glow of the fireplace. A particularly loud crack of the fire woke you. Uncurling a sleeping Faust from your arm, you place her in her bed before walking upstairs and crawling into yours- it feels bigger than it is now that Asra isn’t with you.You place pillows in the empty space next to, trying to trick your loneliness away before closing your eyes.

Asra braved the bitter cold as he trudged through the moonlit fields. The icy wind penetrated through his coverings like a knife biting into his skin, numbing him. Ice started to form on his white lashes, making it hard to see.

Ahead of him lay the edge of the forest, the trees standing silent in the night and appearing just as frozen as he was feeling. He was shivering, his breath coming in shallow puffs. He needed shelter and he needed it fast, or he’d be in real trouble.

 If he continued on, he might make it to Muriel’s hut, but he couldn’t reach it for another hour maybe longer given his sluggish movements. By then, he’d be into the deeper stages of hypothermia, and then he’d have to forgo his journey all together.

“You were right, love. It’s too damn cold. I’m coming home.” he whispered through frosted over lips as he wrapped his arms around himself trying to keep warm as he moved lethargically through the fields and back into the city gates.

Half an hour later he stumbled into  the shop, his brown skin stung red by the boreal winds. He didn’t stop to stand by the fire as he peeled off his layers. No, his only thought was getting into bed and snuggling against the warmest thing he knew: you.

Lifting the sheets and pushing your makeshift body pillow aside he slid in next to you. 

“Asra?” You called sleepily, aware of the sudden loss of heat as he removed the sheet.

“I came back. T-Too cold.” he stammered, wrapping his arms around you.

“Ah! Asra you’re freezing!” You yelp as his cold skin makes contact with yours. 

“I know. But you’re not. You’re so warm, love.” He murmured into your neck. “C’mere, let me hold you.” He slid his hands to your front, and you nearly jumped onto the ceiling.

“Asra, don’t!” You yelp.  But it was too late, his freezing limbs were already entangling with yours, and trapping you. The more you squirmed and giggled the tighter he held you. Your skin was pleasantly warm against his, and he needed it. Needed you.

“Mmhmm, it’s like I’m embracing the sun,” he whispered as he kissed your shoulders and nuzzled into your neck, his cold skin causing you to shiver. “I’m so tired.”

“You should be, that’s what happens when you’re cold too long. It takes all your enegy. I’m surprised it took you so long to turn around.” you chide.

Asra chuckles, and you can feel the weak rumbling against your back as he squeezes you. “I’m so tired.” He murmured as he pulled the covers over your heads. The two of you create a cocoon of warmth and it doesn’t take long before you hear the quiet, even breathing of the sleeping magician. You smile, thanking father winter for keeping your lover by your side - even if it’s just for tonight.

Welcome to The Terrifying Ten!

What is The Terrifying Ten, you ask? It’s a writer and artist challenge for December, open to absolutely any and all who wish to participate. It will go from 1st – 31st of December, though you’re welcome to start planning ahead. There is nowhere specific you submit and no one you are accountable to – it’s just you, 10 things, and however you want to put them out into the world.

How does it work?

You identify 10 things you have never done before in your given area – things you have never had the guts to try, or that you have tried but never posted, or are just a little curious about and want to research more. The idea is that you choose things that are terrifying, but in a good way – thus, The Terrifying Ten! 

It’s an opportunity to challenge yourself and reignite your creative spark with something you don’t normally do, and hopefully while we’re at it, create some diversity in our own writing and our fandom in general. Of course, it isn’t limited to any one fandom, so go wild!

I need some ideas!

Of course! You can have whatever you like on your TTT list, but if you’re stuck for ideas, here are some that have been gathered to get your mind ticking:

For writers: smut (on whichever level you are comfortable), first/second/third person fic, specific kinks, a fic with no dialogue, a fic that is all dialogue, vomit-inducing fluff, a character you have never written for, a fandom you have never written for, character death, alternate universe, crossovers, specific writing techniques (e.g. imagery, allusion, allegory, alliteration), short fics, long fics

For artists: culturally diverse characters, in a realistic style or in another artists style, various body types, dynamic perspective, B A C K G R O U N D S, inanimate objects, comic panels, smut/lemon (Thanks to @kidgrimm for helping with this list!)

Any suggestions for how to keep track of it?

Again, whatever works for you. For your Tumblr I’d suggest keeping a masterlist post, or possibly having a collection of links on each post you make that link to the others. Alternatively, I have made a few scorecards you can use if you want to have a visual display for yourself found here. If you don’t have access to picture editing software to add in the text, I’d suggest using Pixlr Editor.

Each time you post, you’re also welcome to tag me or use #theterrifyingten. I’d love to be able to see everyone’s stuff on the one tag at the end of the month.

I still have a question, ya dingus

Oops. Honestly, there’s no right or wrong way to do this, so long as you’re challenging yourself. If you’re still curious about something, send me an ask – chances are someone else has had the same thought.

A Study in Ariana

Ariana x Laurel x Julian x Nadia

Since being resurrected at the hands of her master, Vesuvia's Assassin Ariana Haventhorne has been slowly spiralling under the weight of the atrocities she commits. Laurel, Nadia and Julian have a proposal to help her work through the emotions and trauma she keeps trying to bury.

Featuring: masochism, pain play, d/s, blindfolding, spanking, orgasm denial, mentions of blood, light breathplay, collars and chains, lots of ~feelings about trust and friendship love

*

I have an apprentice named Ariana Haventhorne, and I had a mighty need to explore and understand some of the darker parts of her character. 

Part 1 (and some backstory) to this can be found here, but this is just the 8k worth of lemon. Thank you to the wonderful @queenofeden​ who left her apprentice Laurel (as well as the other 2/3 of her OT3) in my capable(?) hands and allowed me to use Laurel to do this, as it wasn’t something I felt quite suited anyone else.

This is also just so happens to fill two of my Terrifying Ten prompts, which were apprentice² and foursome. Whoo!

*

A week. That was how long it had taken for Ariana Haventhorne to fully admit that she did have a problem that needed facing, and which she did need help with, and that she needed to bite down on her tongue and listen to that small part of herself that was still fighting against it. Lucio’s reaction had been…miffed. Perhaps a little too still for the moments it took for him to process what she told him. She had thought him ready to stand and leave, or to try and convince her that he himself could help. She had blinked when he kissed her on the forehead, when his hands had only shaken a little when they closed over her knees and squeezed. It was a testament to how far he had come, how far they had both come, when he had told her to do whatever she needed to do, and to never feel like she needed to ask permission to search out parts of herself. The next day, he had left the city on business, and she had approached Nadia, Laurel and Julian to confirm what they were doing. They had discussed boundaries, safe words, expectations. Things had felt overwhelming at first, but when they had assured her that they would be reminding and helping her throughout, she had settled and felt ready. They had chosen a neutral space for it, with Nadia having the servants prepare a guest room in one of the higher floors of the palace. The Countess sat in an ornate armchair in the corner, completely bare save the waterfall of hair covering her breasts and falling about her hips. Julian and Laurel are the same way, naked and bared to the world. Ari however, had been gifted a set of clothes: a sheer black robe, a laced corset with matching underwear, and a pair of patent black heels. Her hair is out and falling down her back, with Laurel standing just to the side and pulling her fingers through it. “Are you okay?” Laurel asks, soft. Ari nods. “Remember your colours.” “Oh…green. I’m okay.” Laurel smiles and she looks to Julian, who’s also beaming in approval. Ari flushes a little and ducks her head to try and hide it; she’s done nothing and they’re beaming like she has hung the sun, or called the stars, or done even something small to be proud of. “Head up,” Nadia calls. All three snap their heads to look at her. She’s smiling, warm and patient. “Remember to keep your head up—in all manners of the phrase.” Ari frowns, gives a slow nod. Then she looks back to Laurel and Julian. “Shall we start, then?” Julian asks. He places his hands together in front of him, looking almost thrilled. Laurel nods, then turns to look at Ari. “We’re going to give you some instructions,” she starts. “Simple ones, nothing that should make you uncomfortable, but if it does then you need to tell us, hm?” Ari nods. Laurel’s eyebrows pull down, an almost-glare she has seen many times but not quite like this. “Use your words,” Laurel says. Oh. “I understand.” “Perfect. Undress for us.” That one is easy enough. Ari has never been bashful about her body, not even around Laurel or Julian, which has probably been more embarrassing for them than her, but they’re used to her brashness by now. She shrugs off the robe and steps out of it, then begins to undo the laces at the front of the corset, where the shadow of her cleavage and a line of skin is peeking through. “Ah ah,” Julian tuts. “Slowly. We’re looking to be entertained.” It slips out before she can stop it, and while she’s still undoing the laces at her normal speed: “Because I’m absolutely a performance monkey.” Julian’s eyebrow cocks. Laurel tuts under her breath. Somewhere behind her, Nadia lets out an amused laugh that’s laced with something not-so-nice. And a moment later, Ari remembers that she’s supposed to be holding her tongue. So she does just that. While Julian leans down to whisper in Laurel’s ear, and neither of them take their gaze away from her, she takes her tongue between her teeth and slows her hands to a stop. “Did we tell you to stop?” Laurel asks. Or snaps. “Is this just going to be three hours of you being your usual, bossy self?” Ari snaps back. Laurel’s grin spreads a little wider, and Julian stops murmuring and straightens. Laurel takes a step toward Ari, slow and smooth, until their chests are brushing. “If you’re lucky,” Laurel murmurs. “It will be much longer. Get down on your knees.” Both of Ari’s eyebrows lift. “Did I stutter?” Laurel asks. Ari exhales, taking care to control it. “No,” she answers. “‘No’ what, hm?” Ari bites down on her tongue again. Julian chuckles. “I don’t think she’s going to say it,” he murmurs, stepping up beside Laurel. “Oh no,” Laurel murmurs back. Her gaze flicks back up from Ari’s lips. “She will. But for now, she’s getting down on her knees.” And she isn’t quite sure what makes her do it, even though she knows it’s the game they’re playing and there are consequences she doesn’t really remember, but she does it. Her hands fall away from the laces in her hands, and she slowly gets down onto her knees. When Laurel is still watching, Ari sits back on her feet, and Laurel smiles. “Oh, good girl!” She praises. Her hand comes up to stroke Ari’s cheek, and…she blushes. Feels the warmth spread like wildfire in her stomach. And it’s a battle for her eyes not to fly wide or for her not to scoot backward and away, because it’s equal parts terrifying and thrilling. Laurel makes a final pleased noise before stepping away, her feet padding along the floor as she moves off to somewhere by the door. Julian crouches down in front of her. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks, his voice level, perfectly Julian. “The praise? The validation?” She nods. “It’s strange,” she says. “I would throttle anyone who dared condescend me but it’s…it’s not like that. That’s not how it feels.” “Let it in,” Julian tells her. “It will feel just as good as when you give it all up. The trust, the control, the autonomy. You can become ours.” “I don’t want to be yours,” she answers, barely a whisper. “I want to be me. That’s the whole point of this.” Laurel reappears then, crouching down on Ari’s other side. “The point of this,” Laurel says. “Is to help you with your feelings. Hating yourself for what you do is not who you are. Letting us take control of you is a way for you to get out that hate. Let us take it from you.” Ari nods, though she still isn’t sure. Julian frowns. “Colour?” He asks, as though sensing the doubt. Ari smiles, her nose crinkling. “You haven’t done anything to me yet.” “Colour?” Ari exhales, much too sharply. “Green,” she says, and then ads with a sickly sweet smile, “Sir.” Julian lets out a barking laugh, and the results of her language seem to be immediate. She can see his cock shifting where it hangs between his legs, and her eyes drop down in curiosity. Laurel is on it immediately, something hard and vaguely sharp pressing in under her chin to lift her head right back up. “Behave yourself,” she says. “No looking. You have to earn cock. But not today. Today, you’re earning the right to cum.” She pauses to hum thoughtfully, her eyes roaming down Ari’s form. “You’re sitting so nicely. Good girl.” “What do you say to that?” Julian reminds her, rising to his feet. Ari licks her lips, her gaze still fixed with Laurel’s. “Thank you.” Laurel lets out a pleased hum before pulling the cane away. It is quickly placed on the chase a few feet away, spread out with a collection of items she had brought over when Julian had been talking to Ari. She shifts her fingers over a few items. Julian leans into her and murmurs. Ari tries to strain her ears to hear what they’re saying, but Nadia clears her throat. Ari feels herself blushing, and curses herself for it. She shifts her weight and pulls her legs out from under herself, but that too is quickly stopped. “Stay where you are, darling,” Julian calls back. And she does. Without really thinking on it, she quickly shifts back, hands in her lap. “Sorry,” she murmurs. That gets their attention. They both turn and step back to her, Laurel crouching in front of her while Julian settles behind. “Tilt your head up,” Laurel instructs. Ari’s eyes drop to her hand. “What is that?” “A necklace. Tilt your head.” Julian gathers her mass of hair in his hands and lifts it from her neck, allowing Laurel to secure what is very clearly a collar with the word princess around her neck. The sight makes her cheeks and chest heat, and it’s plainly obvious for all to see the effect it has on her. “Mmmhmm,” Laurel murmurs. “I thought you’d like that.” Once it’s secured, Julian releases her hair, and it falls about her back in a mass of sunlight. She feels him shift behind her, and a moment later his hands are on her hips, guiding her backward. “Sit down,” he instructs. “Cross legged.” She allows him to steady her, not that she needs it, as she moves back. She sits down, crosses her legs, places her hands in her lap. Laurel kneels before her and sits back on her feet. “We’re going to play a game,” Laurel tells her. “And your reward will depend on how well you go. Understood?” Ari nods. Her eyes are a little wider, her pupils a little more dilated. Laurel smiles, then leans around her a little to speak to Julian. “She’s a natural,” she says affectionately, then she calls out a little louder, “Isn’t she doing so well, Nadia?” “Very well, from where I am sitting,” Nadia agrees. Ari blushes again. And…she thinks she hums, or…or something, there’s a noise in her chest that’s there but not quite there. Julian’s hands smooth up her bare back, his fingertips catching on the scars there. Her back arches and she sighs when he begins counting the ridges of her spine as Laurel continues speaking. “Julian and I are going to touch you,” she explains. “Anywhere we please, but nowhere important, and your job is to stay still. You can make noises, but you can’t back chat. Every time you move or speak out of turn, you’ll be punished. Okay?” Ari nods. “Yes…?” “Yes. I—" The pleased approval is slowly disappearing from Laurel’s eyes, and when she turns her head just enough to spy Julian’s face, his is looking the same. Her throat grows tight in near-panic at the thought of losing those looks, and she blurts out, “I understand the game…mistress. Sir.” Julian purrs and kisses her shoulder blade, and her entire body shivers in pleasure. It’s startling, and like most of the feelings she’s had in the past hour or so, a little terrifying. It’s not so much the person as the act, even though it’s something Lucio has done many times. It’s…it’s the act, and the approval, the praise, as though she were being rewarded, and for something so small. She wants more of it. “What’s the punishment going to be, mistress?” She asks. “Ooohoho, twice in the span of a minute, Laurel? My, the work you’ve done already!” Laurel shakes her head, and there’s a bit of a flush there too, one that says maybe she’s still getting used to the name. Her eyes divert away, over to Nadia. “Nadia?” “Yes, my love?” “What should her punishment be?” Nadia makes a thoughtful noise. “We can try both sides: denial or contact.” Laurel looks to Ari. “Does that sound okay?” “Aren’t you choosing?” “Yes, but you have to be comfortable with it. Are you?” Honestly, she is now, but she knows she might change her mind when it starts. But she’s allowed to, they told her that. She can stop or change her mind at any point. So she nods. “Yes. I’m okay with it.”

*

Twenty minutes. Nadia had been counting. Twenty minutes of Ari on her knees, seated back on her feet, with Laurel in front and Julian behind. Twenty minutes of soft little kisses to her shoulder blades and nuzzles into her neck and brushes of fingertips along her thighs, her hips, her lower back. Little whispers to the inside of her elbows and where her pulse jumped in her throat. Her limbs and body shook with each one, hair a mess about her hips, spilling down onto the floor, falling into her face as she keened and whined, completely blissed out, head tilted back to the sky as Laurel kissed up the front of her throat. The torture of it wasn’t not moving—that was something she was well practised at—but in not demanding more, in finding her patience to wait, in letting them do what they pleased without knowing what it would be. But mostly, it was in the softness, the affection, the silent and loving way they had brushed against her and showed her exactly what she meant to them. When Nadia finally calls time, Laurel and Julian move back immediately, leaving Ari to resurface from her mind with a gasp. Her body shudders one last time before her head falls forward, hair hanging in her face and over her shoulders, shielding her from the world. She’s still, gasping, wide-eyed, a constant stream of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck racing through her mind as fast as her heartbeat. “Yana?” Laurel asks, after a pause. Ari shakes her head in a jerking motion. “I’m—I’m fine, I’m fine.” She lifts her gaze, swallowing before she speaks. “Was that…was I good?” “Very good,” Julian replies from behind. “Far more patient than I was my first time. Or even fiftieth.” Laurel grins, tilting her head as she brushes the hair from Ari’s face. “Julian also has a thing for praise and being a good boy,” she tells. “But he’s much louder when he isn’t getting what he wants. He’ll sit for Nadia, though; however long she wants, until she’s pleased.” “And I always am,” Nadia interjects. “That was wonderful to watch.” And at her words, Ari finds herself blurting out, “Do I get a reward?” And she…feels like she’s said the wrong thing this time. Not because they look angry, but because of the matching shark grins that Laurel and Julian both adopt. “I’m…I’m getting a reward, right?” She asks, a little quieter. “I didn’t just sit there for nothing.” Laurel shifts forward, pressing a finger to Ari’s lips, almost before all of her words are even out. “Ah, remember your manners,” Laurel murmurs. She leans in even closer, pressing her own lips to the other side of her finger, so close to kissing. Ari breathes out through her nose. “You can have your reward. One orgasm.” When Ari frowns, Nadia speaks up. “You will be allowed to have an orgasm, she means,” she explains. “And if you need it, there is a blindfold so you do not have to feel so watched by us.” “Can’t I just go into the washroom?” Julian tuts, his knuckles tracing up her spine. She shivers and arches into his touch. “Oh no no no…” he answers. “This orgasm is your reward, but seeing it is our reward.” “Well it feels like a punishment.” “Oh, darling. When we’re punishing you, you will know about it.” And then he brings his hand down on her bare ass with a crack, just catching her on the hip. She yelps, except it comes out as more of a strangled moan, and she smacks her hand over her mouth to try and cover it but it’s too late. The shark grins have come back. “We’ll have to explore that later,” Laurel says. “But for now…” She holds up the blindfold, and after a pause Ari nods and allows Laurel to fit it snuggly over her eyes. The world disappears, but only through her vision. With her other senses trained, she can hear Julian and Laurel murmuring instructions to each other, about her. Then, she feels their hands in a few different places. Laurel’s are on her knees, coaxing them apart. Julian’s on her hips, holding her steady as he settles her between his legs. “You’re facing away from Nadia,” Laurel assures her. “It’s only Julian and I who can see you.” Ari nods. “How are you feeling?” “Green.” And she means it. Perhaps would mean it even more if there was a colour better than green. Because Nadia was right—the blindfold is working. Her hands, which Julian had guided to the inside of her thighs, are steady, she is calm. She is aching, actually, and bare seconds off coming. She licks her lips. “You can start,” Laurel says. So she does. Julian releases her wrists, and it takes her a few moments but her hands slide down, immediately finding their place. One digs its fingers into her thigh, the other slides two fingers right down her slit. She jumps and groans in Julian’s hold, bites her lip to try and conceal it. No one tells her not to. She moves her fingers, rolls the tips over her clit, whimpers when they slip inside of her. “You’re doing so well,” Julian murmurs in her ear. “You look beautiful like this, fucking yourself on your own fingers for us all to see. Aren’t you glad you were so well behaved?” The fingers on her thigh tighten, and when she begins to drag her nails down, someone’s hand goes to her wrist to stop her, but she’s too far gone to argue about it. She feels herself beginning to crash, her body shaking; she’s not loud when she comes, barely above whispered gasps and sighs. She feels Laurel’s hands on her knees, stroking small circles on the inside. And then she crashes, shivering and shuddering against Julian. Her hand goes back to dig into his hair, and she hears him whimper at the tug, his hips grinding into her ass. And somehow…it just fucking eggs her on, and she feels like she could come again, but the moment she tries someone has taken hold of her other wrist. She groans. “Ah,” Laurel warns softly. She’s close enough to be whispering into the shell of her ear, a hot little breath that curls around it and sends Ari reeling. “One only. You’ll earn the others when it’s time.”

*

They had taken a small break, then. Nadia had brought them all water and some fruit, but Ari hadn’t felt like eating. Her stomach was burning, and she was seated with her thighs pressed together and hugged to her chest, her robe draped over her back by Julian. She was quiet. Thoughtful. Unsure about how she felt. After a while, Laurel had cleared everything while Julian had settled behind Ari and begun combing his fingers through her hair to braid it back. She had taken a hand to his wrist to tell him she could do it herself, but he had shaken his head and told her he wanted to. When the braid had been tied off and Laurel had returned to where they were sitting, Ari had agreed to another game. This one was different, and from the start did not seem like a game at all. Games were fun. Games, she could win. This…was not a game. She was on her hands and knees, with her ankles tied loosely together with a soft silk scarf but her hands free. She could easily shuffle around, just not very fast. “We have some questions before we start,” Laurel says. “Are you okay with us touching you intimately?” “I…yes.” “Both of us?” “Yes, both of you.” “And we know that pesky hearing of yours could hear a pin drop five streets away, so we’re not going to speak. Is that okay?” Ari grins mischievously. “Yes.” “Okay…we’re going to practise non-verbal commands. Julian has a leash in his hand that he has attached to your collar, and he’s going to walk you around the room by tugging on it wherever he wants you to go. If you reach certain points, we mark you down as getting a reward.”

“Like an obstacle course?” “Not quite, but close enough. We do introduce our ‘permission’ rule here, though. Can you repeat to me what that is?” Ari rolls her tongue in her mouth for a few moments. Truth be told, she doesn’t remember much of what they told her anymore, because her body is on edge. It’s curious, it’s waiting, it’s craving. Words on her tongue and in her mind seem foreign, but she does find them. “I’m…not allowed to come without asking?” “Without permission,” Julian corrects, with a small tug of the chain. Ari groans, her body jerking slightly toward it. Her thighs brush against each other at the heat. “You can ask as many times as you like, but we need to say yes for it to be allowed.” “And if I don’t? If I don’t remember to ask or if I come when you say I’m not allowed?” “We expect that you will.” “…so you’re doing it just so you’ll get to punish me.” “No no no!” Laurel speaks hurriedly, trying to reassure her. “No, we’re—Yana, no. We just mean that—" “We mean that it’s a hard thing to learn,” Julian cuts in. “A lot of these games take patience and practise. If you do come when you don’t have permission, we will punish you, but we’ll also help you figure out ways not to do it next time.” Ari bites her lip. “Do you? Come without permission when you play with Nadia?” There’s a pause. She thinks they’re exchanging looks. “Sometimes,” Laurel replies. “And we get punished. But they’re not awful punishments. Quite often the punishment is worth it.” “You’re not giving my loves any ideas are you, Ariana?” Nadia calls. Ari feels her wicked grin return as she calls back. “Of course not, Nadia.” “That’s what I thought.” There’s a bit more shuffling. The chain clinks as Julian moves. Laurel walks about the room. “Okay, we’re going quiet now. Don’t forget your colours.” And then Julian tugs on the leash, and she shuffles forward. It’s…odd. And a little terrifying, being unable able to see but having the skills to sense things but not the range of motion or permission to act on it. She’s sure he does it on purpose, but Julian almost walks her straight into several chairs or walls, and only waits until the last moment to tug on the leash for her to turn or stop or move. When he almost makes her run head-first into the oak bed frame, she stops in her tracks and pulls against it with a growl. He tugs back, just as hard, and her world swims when the collar tightens and she temporarily loses her ability to breathe. This…this she likes, this is familiar, the kind of roughness she’s used to with Lucio. Her thighs quiver. She hears someone, Nadia she thinks, hum their approval at the reaction. After what she thinks is five minutes, Julian tugs gently, which means stop. She does, and waits, and then there’s a hand on her ass, smoothing over it and squeezing gently. And then a finger is sliding down between her cheeks, and she shivers and moves toward it. Julian makes a noise of approval. She waits, breath in her chest, as his finger slips further down and presses at her wet hole. She whines, immediately pressing back, and he doesn’t tug on the collar which must mean it’s a reward. It means she’s pleased him. She wants a reward. His finger crooks inside of her, nice and slow, and it isn’t long until it’s joined by a second because of how wet she is. She hadn’t even realised it. She hears a happy moan somewhere a little further off, and then the unmistakable sounds of kissing. She lets out a huff at the same time Julian does; Nadia and Laurel must be taking a make out break. Ignoring them. Ignoring her. Ari’s cheeks flush, and she stumbles a bit on her hands as she struggles to understand that feeling. “Oh!” Julian makes a surprised noise as his free hand catches her to steady her. The chain falls to the ground with a series of clinks, the weight of it tugging just a little more on her throat. His fingers are still inside of her, slow and crooking and spreading. She arches her back and presses into them. He laughs, then murmurs for only them to hear, “Do you like that?” She beams and nods, rocking into his hand. “Oh and I can tell, dearest. I want it to feel good, because you’ve earned it.” He leans in and presses his lips to the shell of her ear. “I’ll let you come while they’re not looking, but you have to be quiet.” She nods again, hurriedly, almost whimpers—and again, has to pause to wonder where the feeling came from. Where the noises, so unlike herself, are coming from. But then a third finger slips in and she loses her thoughts, and she’s shivering all over when his thumb starts rubbing circles over her clit. And god, she’s close, she’s close, so close— “Julian!” Laurel’s voice snaps. Julian’s hand pulls away. Ari whines, her hips moving to try and find him again but only causing her to press back into thin air. Somewhere to her left, Julian laughs. She feels the weight of the chain shift as he picks it up again. “Apologies,” he comments from above her, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Laurel, my love – would you care to join us again? I think Ariana is beginning to pout.” She feels him press a finger into her cheek as he speaks, and a few seconds later the sound of Laurel’s content sigh fills the room, followed by her feet brushing the floor as she comes back. “Did she come?” Laurel asks. “Not at all,” Julian answers, sounding proud. “Though she did take the bait and think I was going to let her.” They both laugh. Ari feels her cheeks heat. “Mmmmm, what a shame,” Laurel tuts. “Julian, why don’t you try again? Yana – stay still, exactly as you are. Don’t move away from his hand.” Ari licks her lips and nods, waiting in place as Julian settles behind her. She hears him pass the chain off to Laurel, followed by the feel of his large palms sliding up the back of her thighs. She counts in her head and tries to still her thoughts. It’s easy enough to concentrate on not moving when she isn’t being touched, but it’s another story to still herself when she wants to push for more and is so used to doing it. Julian’s hands squeeze the flesh of her ass, just enough to have her tense, and then move back down toward where her thighs are parted. She hears the chain clink as Laurel wraps it around her fist; it tightens just enough to force her head up and keep her from moving. “I’m going to start now,” Julian tells her. “I’ll use my fingers to try and make you come, and perhaps if you’re doing well my mouth too. Your job is to make sure you don’t come. Understood?” Ari shivers, and only after a few seconds does she manage a nod. Her breath is held in her chest, lips parted as she waits for him. “Use your words,” Laurel reminds her. “Yes sir,” Ari murmurs. “I won’t come.” Behind her, Julian chuckles. “Good girl,” he praises, and a moment later she feels his teeth scrape her flesh. She lets out a quiet whimper, barely-there, and he sinks his teeth in a little further. At her strangled moan, at the shake of her elbows, she hears all three of them hum in unison. “Maybe you won’t need to touch her to make her come, Julian,” Laurel says. “Don’t make it too hard for her,” Nadia calls. “We can experiment with pain later. Remember what you’re teaching her.” “Of course, Nadia,” Julian calls back. “We’ll teach her as well as you taught us.” And then he begins. True to his word, his teeth make no more contact with her flesh, and the grip of his hand on her thigh is no more than a light hold. His other hand begins whispering down her skin, a ghost of a touch, causing little goosebumps to spread across the back of her thighs. She feels his finger circling her hole a few moments later, wasting no time in his plan. He presses against the entrance, a movement accompanied by the noise of her slick as it’s moved around. “So wet,” Julian murmurs, and it’s praise. “I knew you would enjoy what we were doing to you. You’ve been so good, and that’s why we’ve been praising you so much. Do you like the praise?” Ari nods. “Use your words,” Laurel says. “We won’t ask you again.” “I…” Ari trails off, breath caught in her throat when Julian inserts two of his fingers together and crooks them right into her g-spot. “I like being praised.” “And?” Julian presses, gently scissoring his fingers apart. “What else do you like? What else have we done that you want to thank us for?” Her arms shake again when he slips in a third finger. “Oh! Three already?” Laurel coos, sighs. “Aren’t we lucky? What a good girl, taking so many of Julian’s fingers so quickly.” Ari’s head ducks, an attempt to hide another flush of her cheeks, but almost immediately Laurel tugs at the chain and pulls her right back into position. “Answer the question,” Julian reminds her. “Or we might not be so pleased anymore. Use your words to thank us.” Oh gods. Teeth clenched tight, she tries to think of her words, of what she could possibly thank them for. But her mind, the blissfully blank space she had all-too-easily created while Julian had walked her around the room, was much the same and she couldn’t figure out just what to say. “Would you like help, Ariana?” Nadia calls softly. Ari nods. “Repeat after me: ‘thank you for praising me’.” Ari swallows, then after a few moments manages to murmur, “Th-thank you for praising me.” “And ‘thank you for touching me’.” “Thank you for…for touching me.” “Excellent. Don’t forget to add their names, so they know exactly who is being thanked. Can you think of something yourself, now?” Ari gives a jerk of her head, one she isn’t really sure what it means. Behind her, she can feel Julian’s breath on the back of her thigh, so close as his fingers continue to pump in and out of her, curling in on just the right spot. She can hear him cooing and praising her under his breath, but the world is shaking too much for her to make them out. “I…” She trails off, and Julian chooses that moment to change the angle of his fingers and touch the tip of his tongue to her labia. “A-ah…I…I…” “You’re not going to come, are you Yana?” Laurel asks, an amused lilt to her voice. “N-no!” “It sure sounds like you are.” “I just—I need—I need a bre—eak! Pl—please, just a moment—” “Ohhh, but Julian is having so much fun! Aren’t you, Julian?” Julian murmurs his agreement into her, his tongue now circling her hole, lapping up everything that is spilling out from between and beside his fingers. His fingers are still curling inside of her in slow and torturous movements. She’s breathing, short and ragged, and counting in an attempt to keep herself grounded, but nothing is working. She’s teetering on the edge, and so close, and she won’t be able to stop herself— “That’s enough, I think,” Julian says, as his fingers and tongue slip from her. She gasps out, and a moment later her arms collapse from beneath her. She immediately feels the chain go with her, allowing her to press her forehead to the ground. “Th-thank you, Julian!” She gasps out. “For what, dearest?” Julian asks. “For—for stopping.” A warm hand sits itself at her back, rubbing small circles. “Thank you for stopping. And thank you for your fingers. And for your tongue.” “You’re welcome,” Julian answers. She feels his lips at the back of her thigh, soft and chaste. “Now, would you like to try again? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” “I want to,” Ari says. “Please.” A pleased noise comes from all three of them. “Very well,” Julian chuckles. “Let’s try again.” And then, with her cheek still pressed into the floor and her ass pressed into the air, he sets himself on her once more.

*

The third game. The second had been exhausting to a point, perhaps the second or third time they had edged her, but when she had almost hit number four, something had clicked. She had stopped herself. She had clenched her teeth, and exhaled, and Julian had backed off just a fraction, and somehow they had found that sweet spot together, one where he hadn’t needed to ask and she hadn’t needed to tell, they had just known. When they had hit the sixth time, he had made her ask permission to come, and Laurel had given it, and she had gasped and shivered and clenched around him in what was maybe the most intense orgasm of her life. When she had come to, Laurel and Julian had each kissed her forehead and praised her, and thanked her for such a beautiful orgasm and being so well behaved. And she had beamed, and allowed them to praise her, and the thoughts in her head had become near-silent. Now, they were ready for the third game. This time Laurel looks a little more serious, more sombre. Her bottom lip is rolling in her teeth and she keeps looking to Nadia. After a few moments of deliberation she exhales and bends down to where Ari is waiting, sitting back on her feet with her hands behind her back and cupping her elbows, as instructed. “Do you trust me?” She asks. When Ari doesn’t answer, Laurel says softly, “You need to speak. You can’t be silent in this space. Do you trust me?” Ari frowns. “Of course I trust you.” “But do you…trust me like this? In charge of you? Do you trust me to know what’s best for you?” Ari doesn’t answer immediately, but then she says quietly, “You always do.” Laurel nods, then holds a hand out to the side. Julian appears, offering her the blindfold. This time when Laurel leans down to place it on, Ari closes her eyes and doesn’t argue. A few seconds later comes a tug on the chain at her neck, and she begins shuffling forward on her hands and knees. It doesn’t take her long to realise where they’re going. They’re moving toward the back of the room, toward where Nadia is sitting. Ari’s movements slow, and she feels a hand at the small of her back, soothing her. “It’s alright,” Julian says. “Trust us. Nadia won’t do anything you won’t like.” Ari nods, and keeps moving until the tug at her chain tells her to stop. She sits back on her feet and receives a pat on the head as praise. She leans into it. “Come here, Ariana,” Nadia says. Ari lifts back onto her knees proper, and Nadia takes her hand and pulls gently. She feels herself tugged into Nadia’s lap, then manoeuvred so that she’s curled over it, her ass in the air and her hands on the ground to steady herself. “Thank you Laurel,” Nadia murmurs. “Thank you Julian. You may prepare yourselves now.” Ari hears them move away. Rustling. A soft sigh. She lifts her head to try and follow the sounds. Nadia’s hand curls into her hair and takes hold of it, just softly, and just enough to turn her head and press it back down. “Patience, Ariana,” Nadia murmurs. Her hand comes to rest at the back of Ari’s thigh, thumb drawing small circles. “What are you going to do?” Ari asks. “So curious, so many questions.” Ari feels her cheeks heat at the tone, and also at Nadia’s hand creeping higher. Her fingers curl around the back of her thigh, just under the swell of her ass, so that her fingertips are pressing very close to her. Ari arches her back and presses into them, and unlike when she tried to push her way into Julian’s touch, she wasn’t admonished this time. And she liked that. “Open your mouth, Ariana,” Nadia commands softly. Ari parts her lips, just enough to feel the cool air on her tongue. “Further. And stick your tongue out.” Again, she parts her lips, just a little more. Her tongue stretches out, just the tip, and when Nadia’s hand tightens on her hair, she somehow knows it means further. She stretches it more, until it’s as far out as possible. Nadia hums in approval. “Good girl.” Her grip remains tight in Ari’s hair as she turns her head, and Ari feels her cheek pressed against the plush arm of the chair. The velvet is soothing against her warmed cheeks. Close by, she can still hear Laurel and Julian shuffling. Moving. She’s sure they’re close by each other, though for all her trained senses she can’t concentrate enough to figure out what they’re doing. “Arianna?” Nadia asks softly. Ari shifts a little to show she’s listening. “I want you to suck on my fingers. Will you do that for me?” Ari nods once, and immediately feels two of Nadia’s fingers pressing down onto her stretched tongue. “Wrap your tongue around them,” Nadia instructs her. “Show me how much you appreciate being given the chance to do this for me.” So she does. She runs her tongue up the underside of Nadia’s fingers before wrapping it around their tips and pulling them into her mouth, suckling gently. When Nadia hums her approval, she takes them a little deeper, her teeth scraping just a little. “I can’t hear you, Ariana,” Nadia tells her. “I can feel your appreciation but I need to hear it, too. A good submissive always lets their dominant hear how happy they are.” She has never been a loud person whenever she orgasmed, or anywhere between, save little gasps of surprise and groans of pleasure as things have sunk in or bruises have been created. The noises she had made during their games—the whimpers, the sighs, the cries—had all been unexpected, uncontrolled, and so unlike her. Nadia asking her to be louder, to be more verbal intentionally… “It’s alright,” Nadia assures her. The hand in her hair releases and moves to the small of her back, tracing small circles. “Just start with small noises. Little hums.” Moving her tongue and lips back to the tips of Nadia’s fingers, Ari does just that, releasing a soft little hum as she moves down again. She repeats the action a few times, until Nadia’s hand returns to the back of her head. The next time she takes the fingers in, Nadia holds her there and sends them a little further. Immediately, Ari’s head is swimming, her body thrumming. She lets out a quiet little whimper, and when Nadia’s fingers curl in the back of her throat, she gags but keeps herself down. “Good girl!” Nadia praises. “Three, two, one…” She releases Ari’s head, allowing her to pull back with a gasp. Tears are stinging her eyes behind the blindfold, but much like the burn in her chest, they’re making her heady and wet. She licks her lips and parts them to speak when she hears it: a soft groan, a curse, definitely Julian’s voice. A cry from Laurel. Skin on skin. Groans. Ari inhales. “Are they—?” THWACK. She cries out, immediately trying to shift away from the pain as Nadia’s hand connects with her left ass cheek. Her hips press forward, and Nadia’s grip on her hair tightens just a little as her hand comes back to sooth the imprint she had made on her ass just moments before. “How did that feel?” Nadia asks. Her palm is somehow cool, soothing, and Ari finds herself relaxing almost instantly. “I…” She swallows. “G-good. It felt…good.” “That is pleasing to hear. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you before, but quite often it is more painful than it is pleasurable if you know ahead and tense because of it.” Ari nods, she knows this from training and taking hits, never tense up when a hit is coming at you. She can still hear hard breathing in the background, the slow slap of skin on skin. Julian groans. “They’re…” She trails off. Nadia makes an amused noise. “Why?” “Why are they fucking?” Ari nods. “Because I asked them to. Because it brings me joy. Because it brings them joy.” She…she knew all of this. She knew they were all involved, that each slept with the other, but perhaps she hadn’t quite comprehended how it worked. That Nadia could simply instruct them on what she wanted and sit back and watch. That it was as simple as an order and they would follow it, without question, trusting that Nadia knew best no matter what. Exactly like she had been doing tonight. And the thought stalls her for a moment, causing a lump to form in her throat that she has to swallow down. “Do they enjoy it?” She asks. “Following your orders?” “Did you?” “Yes.” The answer is immediate, and almost completely without uncertainty. And it doesn’t floor her, and she’s still as sure of it a few moments later, when Nadia’s hand lifts from her ass. THWACK. She hears the next one a moment before it connects, its movement through the air, and she lets out a cry as it makes contact. Her hips shunt forward again for a different reason, grinding against Nadia’s thigh. “Ariana?” Laurel’s voice calls; between her gasps and groans, she sounds a little panicked. Ari groans and presses back up into Nadia’s hand. “I’m—I’m fine—" THWACK. THWACK. THWACK. She whimpers at the final blow, and with it comes her first orgasm. She shivers and shudders quietly against Nadia, held in place by a hand in her hair and a hand at her thigh. “Normally, I would make you count,” Nadia says, soothing her latest marks. She doesn’t acknowledge that Ari even came, that the evidence of it is dripping down her leg. “Perhaps if we play again that is something Laurel and Julian can arrange for.” Nadia shifts, and suddenly her lips are against the shell of Ari’s ear, purring. “Laurel so does love to tease and taunt. I’m sure she will simply adore having to punish you when you lose count.” THWACK. Another orgasm wracks her body in silent shivers and tensing muscles. Tears have started leaking down her face, or maybe they had been there a while, but they’re accompanied by a blinding white-hot pleasure throughout her body that isn’t just her release. It’s…it’s…she can’t explain it, but the pain, the sting of Nadia’s palm, the scrape of her nails, the building bruises… Along with the whimpering, the fastening slap of skin-on-skin. Julian is groaning and whining, Laurel is gasping. She’s heard each of them ask for Nadia, but Nadia has ignored them, all her attentions on Ari. THWACK. No orgasm this time, but her head turns, ignoring the searing pain of the tug on her hair to try and seek out the sounds across from them. “Do you want to see?” Nadia purrs. Her fingers have edged back to between Ari’s legs, pressing and probing gently as she speaks. “Do you want to see how my two loves fuck each other?” “YES!” Ari gasps out. Without warning Nadia rips the blindfold off, exposing the world to her once more. Stars explode in her eyes as an orgasm crashes over her without any fucking stimulation, just the pain and the praise and the sight of Laurel bent over the chaise, faced toward her as Julian absolutely rails her. He’s keening, moaning, his face is red and his hands are shaking. They’re both wearing collars they hadn’t been before, and are blindfolded from the world, and have chains attached to their nipples. Every time Julian pulls out, she can see a ring secured around the base of his cock. Ari whines, pushes back into Nadia’s hand. “Oh, you want more, Ariana?” “Yes!” “Yes what?” “Y-yes, I want more. Please Nadia! Please hurt me—AH!” Another smack, this one leaves deep gouges she can already feel the sting of. She’s crying, tears streaking down her face as Nadia pulls her back by the air, her back arching almost unnaturally. She grinds her hips forward into Nadia’s thigh as Julian lets out a desperate groan. “N-N-Nadia! Nadia, please—oh p-please—” He gasps. “Yes, my love?” Nadia coos. “Can I please come—please—I’ve been good, so g-good—” Ari’s world goes white for a few moments when Nadia spanks her again, leaving a matching set of nail marks across her opposite cheek. “Yes, you can come—” Julian and Laurel both let out relieved groans. “But Ariana must come first.” Ari lets out a gasp, shakes her head, “Not again, I—I can’t—” “I believe that you can, Ariana. One more, please. I would love for you to give me one more, like the good girl I know you are. I will give you the pain you need if you give me the orgasm I want.” Ari screws her eyes shut and nods her head, pushes her hips forward into Nadia’s thigh. Nadia pulls her hair and she pushes her hips back, presenting her ass to Nadia’s waiting hand. And when it comes down, she screams. The hand that connects is somehow so much harder, a smack of white-hot flame followed by claws that rake down her cheek and along the back of her thigh. She feels the bruise already forming there, the blood dribbling down her thighs, the white-hot flame, the hardest contact yet and she’s crashing. Coming. Crying. The tightness in her chest is gone and she can hardly move, going limp over Nadia’s knee as the sounds of Julian’s and Laurel’s pleasures fade into the background.

*

An hour later, she is enveloped in the searing heat of a scented bath. The heated water seeps into her bones, her aching muscles, her tight chest. Her head is resting against the side, eyes glazed and distant and down. The washroom is silent around her, the soft light of the candles dancing off the water and the painted walls. She hadn’t spoken since they had finished, the last noise she made having been the cry from Nadia’s hand that had set off her final orgasm. Nadia had warned her that she might drop, that she might go too far inside of herself after they were done and need help coming out of it. She didn’t think it had happened, but she knew it was hard to see yourself when you were so far gone. The silence around her was soothing, and her head was, perhaps for the first time, not raging with thoughts of the blood on her hands or how much she had changed since being resurrected. Her eyes cast down, to her fingers following invisible cracks along the inside of the tub. She inhales, softly, slowly. Deeply. She comes to life, so quietly it’s almost impossible to see, resurfacing from wherever she had taken herself. And then her eyes flicker up to Laurel, seated in the chair beside her, waiting for her to return. To be okay. And she reaches out, taking the hand resting on Laurel’s knee and squeezing it, eyes stinging. And then she says, with a voice so quiet, so barely there, it’s almost not: “Thank you.”

*

🍑 Requesting | Masterlist | My Ao3

My Terrifying Ten Scorecard

Ooo boi. So this ended up coming out as more of a kink list than anything, but what else did you expect? I chose these based on things I have never written, things I’m curious about and things I want to challenge myself with. I plan on peppering in smaller challenges amongst them, e.g. focus on imagery, avoiding using specific words, but these will be my focus.

If you want to get more information on The Terrifying Ten (for both writers and artists) go here, and if you’d like your own card go here!

Masterlist

A Study In Ariana [Ari x Laurel x Nadia x Julian, Foursome + Apprentice]

The White Wolf [Lucio x Reader, Omegaverse]

The Terrifying Ten

Per @vesuviannights​ Terrifying Ten challenge, this month I’ll be challenging myself to the following~ ♥

✔ Art | Poster-style

✔ Fic | 2nd person

► Art | Outdoor scenery

► Fic | Snuff

► Art | Cluttered background

► Fic | WLW

► Art | Hands as focal point

► Fic | Breakup

► Art | Someone else’s style

► Fic | Dialog only

THE TERRIFYING TEN 

POP SOME BOTTLES BC IT’S CHALLENGE TIME~

In an effort to get myself to write more, I’ve decided to take on the Terrifying Ten challenge posted by @vesuviannights​! I’ve written fics previously as a young teen, but I never made a serious hobby out of it. I want to change that and I feel like this challenge would be a great start! I’m specifically focusing on this more stylistic challenges to kind of tease out a basic writing style.

MASTERLIST

A fic with no dialogue 

SMUT

Character death

Horror

Multi-chapter fic

Switched AU (An OC switches roles w/ a canon character OR another of my OCs)

Quick prompt (A flash fic with a generated prompt)

First-person POV (might just add a bonus layer to this and do it as a FPOV for a canon character)

HEARTBREAKING ANGST

A fic with only dialogue- Be Not Afraid

Here’s my scorecard for The Terrifying Ten! Thanks @vesuviannights 😄

Scorecards/prompt cards for The Terrifying Ten!

♥ apprentice riordan “rory” tanner (o'marcaigh) ♥

pregame [ r ] & ingame [ l ] masquerade

rory belongs to @thesanguinerose​