Choices and Storyscape Hoe

Side blog of ladyoftherings. I follow and comment from there

[ernestsinclairs]

The Black Coat Girl

Adrian Raines x MC (Doriana)

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She comes but once a year. 

Clad in the same black coat on the same rainy day, she picks her way through the cemetery. Round she goes around elaborate crypts and simple stones, around plain headstones and wreaths of roses.

The path she takes every year is different, but her destination is the same. One single grave on the far right end.

She comes but once a year.

In her hands is a strange bouquet of flowers, one that few think to put together. Blood red roses sleep in a bed of white lilies and cover themselves in blankets of ivy. 

As soon as she finds the grave she’s looking for, she pauses, turns to check that no one is watching, and tucks her head further inside the black hood. Slowly, she reaches down and brushes errant raindrops off the cool, smooth stone. The flowers find their final resting place on top of the dewy grass and watch as she kneels in front of the headstone.

She comes but once a year.

The grave is popular with visitors. Well wishers in the initial wake of his passing came to the grave in droves. Flowers and memorials abounded alongside framed pictures and lit candles. Among them, the woman in the black coat was never there. But now, she is. 

Her hands gently trace the name painted in gold lacquer. He was a visionary, a peacemaker, the future of this new and strange generation some even said. 

                                                    Adrian Raines

                                                     1992 - 2020

                                                       Ad Astra

Her touch is warm, almost loving. If people cared to look beyond the black coat’s hood, they would see tiny droplets of crystal down her delicate cheeks, mixing with the drizzling rain of an April morning. Her hand tightens and she swallows hard.

The black coat girl comes but once a year. 

Her visit over, she rises, leaving the flowers and her sorrow behind. Within a few minutes, she’s disappeared completely, mixing in with the gray rain and the mass of faceless people in the twisted Manhattan streets. But there’s nothing to worry about for people who watch her, for the people curious about this mysterious woman’s comings and goings.

She’ll be back next year. 

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@femmeshep @kawairinrin @justendlesssummerfeels@sweetfluffyunicorn18 @mrsinclairstightpants @indiacater @hopefulmoonobject@perrieraines @universallypizzataco @lacielino-ff @elles-choices @adrian-raines@acvossthevoid @itlivesbeneath @choicesfannatalie @crispymilkshake-choices@flyawayboo @kinda-iconic @nobounderiesplease @noloveshorty @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @boneandfur @littleredroseonthevalley @bloodboundismylife@kinda-iconic @adrianadmirer @lilyofchoices @flyawayboo @isabella-choices@regina-and-happiness @darley1101 @arkhamknightsworld @desiree-0816

[ernestsinclairs]

Bryce Lahela - Wedding Headcanons

- You hadn’t even thought of getting married. The two of you had been strolling down Boston Market as usual, drinking in the scents of seafood and lemonade and late flowers when he popped the question.

- “Let’s get married.”

- After getting over your initial shock, the you and Bryce toasted to your upcoming wedding at Donahue’s after work the next week. Naturally everyone received an informal invite -- there was no way Bryce would take the time to hand write invitations. 

- The two of you might have been casual and fun, but there was no way you were letting some aspects of the wedding go to waste. You splurged on the wedding dress, choosing a flattering mermaid style with a lacy bodice perfect for the dance floor. You caught Bryce trying to peek inside the garment bag once or twice, but luckily, you managed to chase him away in time. All he knew was that you would look absolutely gorgeous.

- Sienna jumped at the opportunity to make the wedding cake. Hours of poring over recipes and Pinterest boards later, she whipped up a vanilla bean cake with a light pineapple créme filling and topped with a tiny bride and groom with doctors coats painted on.

- But amidst all the fun was the usual drama.

- You spend all of one summer evening calling up all your relatives who make the flight to Boston, accepting their congratulations and promises of wedding gifts. Your side of the guest list filled up in minutes. His didn’t at all.

- The little row of chairs reserved for Bryce’s family at the ceremony went unfilled. Finally, he scrapped the idea altogether. It was painful at first, knowing that his family wouldn’t even bother to care or come, so he never invited them in the first place. All you could do was lay a hand on his shoulder and kiss that chiseled cheek. You were all one family now. It was quite alright.

- The day of the wedding came, and to be honest, it was more a giant party than an actual wedding.

- You had expected to skate through the ceremony and get the reception party started as soon as possible, but it turned out a little differently. Bryce took his sweet, sweet time with the vows, pulling out a paper as long as CVS receipt full of waxing poetry about his love for you. Finishing with a dab at tears that may have actually existed, he flung the paper into the air with a flourish and took your hands to say ‘I do’.

- The party slapped. It slapped HARD.

- You and Bryce had hired a DJ for the entire thing, and the entire wedding party danced until early the next morning. Even Zaid ended up breakdancing in the middle of the mob, though he might have had copious amounts of alcohol first. 

- There was none of that stuffy food so common at other weddings. Tiny tea sandwiches and crudités? Gone. In its place were mini sliders and tiny hotdogs and cookie ice cream sandwiches and whatever you and Bryce thought were good.

- The open bar was a hit. You swore Bryce had downed an entire bottle of champagne, even though he swore he didn’t. The headache he had the next morning proved him wrong.

- In the end, Bryce surprised you like he always did with one more grand gesture of love. As the bride and groom finally made their way out (much to the relief of the venue staff), fireworks bloomed across the night sky of Boston. The entire air glowed with golden sparks and showers and your photographer nearly nutted right then and there.

- As the two of you finally collapsed in the getaway car, all you could do was laugh until your stomachs hurt. 

- Then you banged. In the car. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------@teenytinymagician @regency-lady @tmarie82 @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @divergentofhogwarts @indiacater @queenlorelaiwalker12@findingdrake @frugalchoicer @valenciajeff @melodyofgraves @eileendannie@anxiousdepressedintrovert @nampyeonjin @wisteriandreams @divergentofhogwarts @simsvetements @lovelyvenusianlady@itsstillnotwhatyouthink @leelee10898 @mariamulroney @beaumontbae 

[ernestsinclairs]

Olivia’s dad is a dilf, prove me wrong

[ernestsinclairs]

All American - Chris Powell x MC

Chris Powell x MC (Jena diRetta)

*So I realized that if Chris really does go pro like PB says he does, we never got to see a draft night or celebration or something. So . . . I wrote one up

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“I don’t know if I can do this.”

The words came out quickly in an unexpected burst. As soon as they had left his mouth, Chris reddened, dropped his gaze, and suddenly became very interested in his tie.

Behind them, the hotel’s television blared loudly with all the news of NFL draft night. A bright flash, and Chris’s face popped up.

“Donna, we’re talking about one of the brightest prospects of this year: Chris 

Powell. He’s the quarterback of the Hartfeld Knights, led them to their first ever National Championship -- I mean, this guy’s got it in the bag. I’m predicting a first round pick for him, if not top 10.”

“Oh definitely, I mean let’s take a look at his stats for a moment . . .”

Jena grabbed the remote and promptly turned the television off.

“None of that right now,” she soothed, running her hands over his already perfect lapels and patting his shoulders. “We don’t need that.”

“I don’t know what I need,” Chris admitted. For the millionth time that morning, his voice wavered.

“But I know what you want, and I’d say that’s more important,” Jena said softly, cupping his cleanly shaven cheek. Chris sighed and leaned into it, worried eyes closing for just a few moments before popping wide open again.

“No, no, relax,” she whispered, dropping her voice even further. “Listen. I’m here. We’ve been through it all -- four years of college, car accidents, murderous frat houses. This is just another thing we’ll get through.”

He didn’t reply and Jena took the chance to press a quick kiss on his lips. He stayed stiff at first, then melted, reciprocating even harder, arms wrapping around her waist and scrunching the fabric of her dress.

“Right . . .” Chris said. “There’s nothing big about this at all. Just, you know, being drafted into the NFL with everyone seeing if I succeed to burn out. No pressure.”

“No pressure,” Jena swore. Her hand snaked up to his well muscled chest and felt his fluttering heartbeat underneath that tailored suit. She didn’t say anything and just looked back up at Chris’s face for a good five minutes. Finally, the heartbeat began to slow.

“Together,” she whispered, taking his hand when he tried to stroke her face and kissing it.

“Together,” Chris promised.

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The entire auditorium was awash in a flurry of colors and lights. Giant airhorns and sound effects boomed from the speakers, sending waves of vibrations through Jena’s chest. A grip on her thigh tightened and she knew Chris felt it too.

“If they don’t take you, they’re full of shi-” AJ pouted before her horrified mother clapped a hand over mouth.

“AJ, where did you even learn that?” she scolded. “Didn’t I raise you better than that?”

“He did!”

AJ pointed to the next table over where a rowdy Ohio State linebacker was laughing with friends and family.

Jena glanced over at her fiancé. Chris hadn’t noticed a single thing, and remained oblivious to the new catfight that had broken out between his mother and sister. His mouth was set in a gray line, and only his eyes betrayed how nervous he actually was. When his little brother groaned with impatience and threw himself over his lap, Chris lifted a shaking hand to try and pat him before giving up.

“Look at me, Chris.”

He drew a rattling breath and looked into her eyes for exactly one second before looking away.

“Chris.”

“. . . I’m listening.”

“Good. Listen to me, not them, not the crowd, not the commentators. You have a good chance of being chosen. And if not, you have another dream you can follow. This isn’t the end of the world. Just the start of a new one.”

The handsome young man smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, lingering as if he didn’t want to look up and face the blasting music and glowing lights again.

“I’m here. What could go wrong?” Jena teased as she stroked his cheek. The taut muscle worked, then relaxed. Gently shifting to face her properly, Chris took her hand and kissed the little diamond ring from that last night at Hartfeld. 

“Alright, alright, I guess you’re right,” he said, breaking out into his first genuine laugh all that week. “NFL or not, we still have this, and I mean . . . what more could I want? Right?”

“Exactly,” Jena giggled and reached up to poke the tip of his nose. “There we go.”

Suddenly, a loud roar swept over the auditorium, and Chris’s head popped back up. The moment was gone and another was taking its place.

The NFL commissioner walked across the vast stage, a tiny card in his fingers. Chris reached for Jena’s hand, and she gave it willingly. Lacing his fingers in hers, he squeezed her hand tightly. 

The commissioner waited for a few seconds to let the rancor die down, then looked down at the card with a simple little smile.

“And with the third overall pick in the first round,” he started. Once again, he stopped for another agonizing few moments to let the cheering die down.

“With the third overall pick, the California Nightingales select quarterback Christopher Powell, Hartfeld University.”

Chris crumpled in his seat. With a gasp, Jena fell, pulled down by his weight. When he finally lifted his head, tears glowed in his eyes.

“Go, go get what you deserve,” Jena whispered as he leaned in to kiss her. With a tight, happy nod, Chris embraced his siblings who had already jumped on his shoulders, hugged his mother, and disappeared into the crowd.

Jena watched his head bob through as pride overtook here. It had been a long road for him, full of pitfalls like an absent parent, a juvenile record, and four long years juggling every responsibility possible, but he had made it. They had made it. In a few short weeks, their new life would begin. 

Chris strode onto the stage and took a Nightingales cap from an aide. With it securely on his head, he shook the commissioners hand vigorously and held up his new jersey. On the back in neat white letters was P O W E L L .

At last, they had done it.

As he exited the stage, their eyes met and time seemed to slow down. Despite the din of the entire room, Jena could clearly hear what he was mouthing to her from across the entire crowd. 

“I love you!” he mouthed, sparing a few extra waves for his mother and siblings.

She could do nothing but smile back, wiping a tear off her face and sitting back in her chair, suddenly lightheaded.

Jena shook an errant piece of confetti out of here, then caught it as it fell out. No, she would save it as a memory of tonight. She would go home and glue it onto cardstock and frame it and do whatever else she needed just to keep the present alive for a little bit longer.

But the future? Oh, she just couldn’t wait for the future.

[ernestsinclairs]

High by the Beach - Cassian x MC

Cassian x MC (Cecilia James)

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“I’m guessing you can’t drink on the job either?” Cecilia asked, tossing an empty bottle of Kahlua to the side. It clinked against another empty bottle nearby, sending both rolling over the houseboat edge and right into the ocean.

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t be drinking that straight,” came his muffled voice that grew clearer as he emerged from inside. 

“Oh, you can try to understand me at least,” she teased. “There’s painfully few things to do here, you see.”

“Surviving a possible mob hit is something to do,” he pointed out. The crackling buzz of radio static burst out from inside the boat and there was the distant sound of cursing as he retreated back inside. A few thwacks! later and the static stopped.”

“Mhm, I can think of one other thing,” Cecilia purred as she moved inside towards him. Her hips swayed slowly as she walked, though from seduction or tipsiness she couldn’t say.”

“You’re drunk.” His jaw tightened.

“On you, you mean.”

“No.”

“Oh, yes.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, then one, then two. Finally, Cassian dropped his gaze with a defeated sigh.

“Trust me, that first night in Boston? It was great. Wonderful. Wickedly sexy. But now?”

He threw up his hands, refusing to meet Cecilia’s eye and fixing his gaze on the faraway sunset instead. His jaw worked again and she nearly reached out to touch it -- just to tease him of course. Then the teasing would lead to flirting, and the flirting would lead to a few kisses on that chiseled jaw, and then that would lead to--

“Look, this was . . . before all of this,” Cassian said, moving to push her away ever so slightly as if he knew what she was thinking of. “It’s not an office party hookup anymore. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.”

“Oh, but that’s just the thing!” Cecilia laughed, pushing past to him to grab a beer bottle and popping it open. “I just think you work a little too much.”

“When it comes to saving your life, I don’t think you can work too much,” he said stiffly. Once again, that tight jaw as back.

“Oh so you admit you care for me?” she teased. “That’s alright, I already knew.”

She hooked one finger under the two day old stubble and smiled as she pulled his face closer to hers. His breath hitched and Cecilia couldn’t stop the slow, wicked smile spreading across her face. Checkmate.

“But then again, some more proof never did anyone harm.”

With one fluid motion she captured his lips in hers. The kiss nearly broke off immediately when she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop the broader smile on her face when her flung his arms around her waist. 

The scent was intoxicating. Cecilia drank all of in -- the salty sweet smell of the Nantucket harbor mixed with the fresh paint smell of the houseboat and the smoky sweet cologne faintly spritzed on Cassian’s neck. He groaned from underneath her and she shuddered in return.

“I don’t see your boss anywhere,” Cecilia breathed heavily when they finally broke apart. She leaned back in for a quick peck, catching the taste of sweet coffee liquor on his lips that had transferred from her own.

Cassian groaned, but cut it short to sigh loudly instead.

“And?”

“You already know that answer,” she shot back, grabbing the bottle again and walking inside the houseboat. She paused, then tapped him suggestively down south before meandering to the sleeping quarters.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I do,” Cassian teased back, now fully immersed in the game. “I think you’ll have to come back here and explain everything.”

Lunging forward, he playfully tackled Cecilia to the houseboat’s sofa, pinning her against one of the nautical themed cushions and covering the sound of her intoxicated laughter with kisses.

“That’s more like it,” she mumbled happily in between cases. Sighing happily, she unpinned her arms and wrapped them around his midriff, smirking as she felt the hard muscle flexing underneath the thin shirt.

Suddenly seeing her opportunity, she shot forward, her hands slipping underneath Cassian’s own shirt and wandering down a tad bit lower. 

“You like that?” she whispered as he shuddered underneath her touch.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m high,” Cecilia laughed, throwing her head back. “I’m high by the beach and there’s nothing you can’t do about it.”

[ernestsinclairs]

when you have a lot of time to write but it’s cause school got cancelled for 5 WEEKS BECAUSE OF CORONAVIRUS

[ernestsinclairs]

Hey!! Are you still planning on writing mal fics? 🥺

yep!

[ernestsinclairs]

Departure - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Ethan Ramsey x MC (Trina)

The movies made it look so romantic.

The heroine with the rain streaked hair and wild but still bright eyes would stand in front of the door, her lover before her before the two of them embraced in a tight mess. But there was a reason why movies were made. To let people believe in a false memory.

In reality, the two of them shuffled awkwardly, trying not to meet each other’s eyes.

“Rookie.”

Trina’s throat dried up as she looked at the older doctor’s face, studying the new tired lines and three day stubble alongside the jaw. The tense silence began to creep in again, and just as it became unbearable, the yapping of a tiny dog broke the air.

“We need to talk,” she said, a little more forcefully than she’d planned to. “We owe each other that.”

Ethan stared at her for a few moments more, than wearily ushered her in without complaint. In any other situation, Trina would have thought his lack of response alarming. Perhaps it was.

“Coffee?” he asked, closing the door behind them. 

“I think we’ll both need something stronger.”

“At least I’ve taught you one thing.”

The trickle of the early storm that had caught Trina on her way out of the subway station began to strengthen, pouring water down the glass panes as a few rumbles of thunder began to echo in the distance somewhere above Fenway Park. She barely noticed the faint clink of the scotch glasses on the glass coffee table, mind still set on that little flash of lightning above one of the towers. Or was it a plane? Not that it mattered.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Trina,” Ethan started, snapping her out of her trance. “I’ve resigned. Naveen is as good as gone. A few more weeks and you won’t have to see me anymore.”

“See you anymore?” Trina asked. “Edenbrook needs you. It needs you to come back-”

“Except I’m not,” Ethan said curtly, throwing back his drink with one gulp. “One perk of already being established in your field is having offers from other places, trying to poach you. I’ve accepted.”

The words hung in the air as if drawn in smoke. Accepted. No, it couldn’t be.

“Ethan, what are you talking about?” Trina asked slowly, as if drawing out the time would lessen the impact. “What exactly did you accept?”

“Seattle,” he replied, simply pouring himself another drink. “Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital has offered me a . . . suitable position.”

“When?”

“Next month. I leave in a few weeks.”

Trina stared at him in shock, putting down her unfinished drink. Her eyes searched his face, but found nothing. After all, it was hard to when he couldn’t even meet her gaze.

“Ethan, why?” she pleaded, a touch of anger beginning to creep into her voice. “Why? This was your life - this hospital was your life! How did it come to this?”

He didn’t answer.

“Ethan.”

He did nothing but throw the rest of the drink back, slamming the whiskey glass back onto a stained countertop with an odd finality.

“I’ve signed my resignation papers.”

He got up abruptly to leave and Trina lunged forward, grabbing at his sleeve. Ethan batted her off without looking at her, though because of indifference or pain she could not tell.

“Ethan I-”

“I wish you all the best in the future,” he mumbled as he gathered his coat and headed for the door. “You’re a great doctor. You’ll surpass me for sure.”

And with that, Ethan Ramsey stepped out into the chill, leaving behind the warm lights of the bar and the woman who loved him.

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@kamybelen-blog @gingerjane15 @llovewrites @junggoku @lizeboredom @flyawayboo @ignoranceisbliss16 @traveldoze @sstarclimber @dangerous-capri15 @choicesyouplayandmore @gettingonmykneesfordamiennazario @lumielikesbooks @universallypizzataco @siegrrun @crispymilkshake-choices @valenciajeff @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @thirstyforvillains @indiacater @bitchfacesammyy @cordoniansqueen @perriewinklenerdie @questionablespecies @greek-elsa @thatysn

[ernestsinclairs]

How Rich Are You?? - OH Edition

Welcome to the MONEY Series, where I draw up how rich everybody is. Here, I estimate how rich all the OH LIs are because literally everyone likes cash, not just me. 

Ethan: Okay, he’s the only exception to this rule because he’s been in this doctor game for far longer than any of us. I thought he would be drowning in that fat doctor’s paycheck but nope! He only takes a $1 salary to help the 

hospital and lives off investments. Now the bad news is that you aren’t going to reap that paycheck. The good news is however, is that he has BANK. It’s mentioned that his apartment is in a pricey neighborhood and he has a good car and obviously lives well. To have enough return on investments (profit) to live that well in such an expensive city, Ethan has to have a pretty hefty investment portfolio. I did some research on Boston housing prices and the apartments that look like his in the book costs about $9500/month. Based on that and his other expenses, I then calculated how much money he has invested using the standard rate of return for portfolios. Ladies and gentlemen, Ethan Jonah Ramsey has around $2.25 million in assets.

Probably Owns: Rents a banging penthouse style apartment in Boston, a really nice car (as mentioned in OH), and a really cute dog. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a vacation home -- not a mansion in the Hamptons but more of a rugged cabin in some random mountain where he can “be free” and “achieve peak grumpiness”.

Bryce: I’m not going to sugar coat it -- Bryce is broke af. It’s my theory he grow up more low income and he also mentioned wanting to get away form his parents for college. From that, we can guess he didn’t use daddy’s money for college. By my estimate, Bryce entered Stanford in 2011. Stanford’s policy back then was that if your family made less than $60k, everything from tuition to room and board is free. Therefore, Bryce probably skated through. HOWEVER, Stanford Med is expensive and we know Bryce is in debt because he commented on it in the book. Taking loans, grants, aid, and his bartending work in consideration, Bryce is probably $150k in the hole. But he is a surgeon and he mentions liking Kyra’s lung surgery and boasting about holding a human heart. If he goes into cardiothoracic surgery (heart and lung), that’s a median salary of $469k.

Probably Owns: His swagger, underlying family issues, and a dying liver from too much college tequila.

Jackie: Jackie, like Bryce, is pretty broke. Luckily, she went to Harvard which is the richest school in the nation. Their policy back in 2011 when she entered was that you only pay 10% of your income towards tuition even if your family was wealthier (and I do think Jackie’s family was richer than Bryce’s). Med school is where the headache begins though. Looking at tuition rates and living costs, Jackie’s probably $175k in debt. Now, let’s say Jackie goes for a super competitive medical fellowship so she can be a cardiologist or something (which is totally a thing she would do). That’s a median wage of $438k in Boston. Ka-ching!

Probably Owns: A mountain of overpriced textbooks, her dignity, and plenty of roasts for Bryce.

Rafael: So this beautiful boy went to the local community college which is DEFINITELY cheaper than eight years at a private college and medical school. I’m pretty sure he has little, if not no debt as he’s surely paid it off with the help of grants and financial aid at this point. However, he’s definitely not wealthy as the average EMT salary in Boston is $31k. Also, this boy is too nice to leave his family behind and I’m certain that he’s caring for his grandma financially. Maybe he has like . . . $1k in savings but that’s it for my beautiful EMT boy.

Probably Owns: The clothes on his back and his grandmother’s undying love and affection.

Kyra and Aurora: Okay, here’s where everything gets a little murky. I have very few clues on these two. The only substantive thing I can say is that Aurora is definitely around Jackie’s level of debt and for Kyra, I can’t say. I might figure out more as OH2 goes on, and I’ll probably update then. 

Probably Owns: Being their own, fantastic characters even if they get shafted by PB sometimes. 

[ernestsinclairs]

Who do you think is worth the most? Harper, Naveen, or Ethan?

I’m pretty sure it’s Ethan. I explain why and calculate his net worth in an upcoming post this weekend

[ernestsinclairs]

Hi!! Can you do a how rich are you Open Heart edition?

That’s on the way! I’m just waiting for OH2 to be released

[ernestsinclairs]

Mornings - Tyril x MC

Tyril x MC (Iren)

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Sometimes she watched him as he slept, his strong face relaxed and peaceful, and her heart ached with his beauty, ached with her love.

Iren traced her fingers over the pale skin, over his forehead, the hollow at his temple, the high cheekbones. Lovingly, her caress came to a rest at his mouth, the soft, lips parted in sleep. Desire stirred in her always when she was with him.

Her hand resumed its exploration of his well formed body, ghosting over a gracefully pointed ear, his smooth neck and broad shoulders; what perfection had been used when he was shaped, how smooth, strong and flawless was he. Light fingers ran over his satiny skin and firm muscle, down his arm and then to his hand. His fingers curled around hers in his sleep.

Tyril’s other hand entangled itself among her dark curls, mostly undone by love and sleep, as he gently pulled at her hair, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Good morning," Iren said obligingly. Her voice was low and hoarse and she suddenly realized that it is the first time they have ever had one of these mornings. Her love for him threatened to choke her and she bend down, melding her lips beneath his.

Her touch traced his lips and his mouth opened for her, allowing her entry. She was faintly surprised at his submission that morning; it had been weeks since the last time she had seen him this relaxed, this peaceful when awake, and she wondered what had changed.

The hoarseness in Tyril’s own voice made her smile. He would not plead for mercy on the battlefield but here, in their bed, he had no such restrictions as he come undone, for her, only for her. Iren's heart was beating so hard that she feared it would escape from her chest - their need was always like this, hot, strong, relentless.

His voice was broken, raw with passion as he said her name again and she shuddered in response. She cannot wait, not this time. Still she hesitated; to take or be taken? Tyril's muscular arms wrapped themselves around her hips as he tilted her torso against his.

His hand played with Iren's hair as he continued to hold her close. He'd always loved her hair; she twisted soft ribbons, like chains of small stars,  through them when she slept, making them more pleasing to his eyes. She loved him, with all that she was and always had. He was one of her main reasons for living in a world where nothing else seemed to make sense and so for him there was nothing she would not do.

Iren moved off his body, leaving her head against Tyril’s shoulder, her arm draped over his as their hearts and breathing calmed.

"I see hope in you again," she said finally, addressing the change which she had seen in him since he'd come to her late last night.

"I have hope," Tyril answered, a tired smile in his voice. "For the first time I can remember, I have hope. This time I think we can win this war. The Shadow Court will finally fall."

Another wave of war then. Iren was so tired of them, tired of bloodshed and duty. She had never expected the path her newest adventure would take her, yet she loved the thrill of it all. Yet she knew that she would fight. Iren would enter the battlefield with Tyril by her side. If she fought beside him she could keep him safe, she could make sure that he would return to her bed and her heart.

"I will come," Iren promised him as she closed her eyes. When dawn came, she would prepare herself for the fight.

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@a-i-n-a-a-s-h​ @scgdoeswhat​ @diamondsless​ @missameliep​ @awhshm​ @urfavsidecharacter​ @dadrianraines​ @desiree---1986​ @laragazzaconunsogno​ @tealtranquiltatter​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​ @ohsnapitzlovehacker​ @kingliamsbitch​ @pixeljazzy​

[ernestsinclairs]

so are you telling me that Emery Beaumont literally became an incel . . . 

[playchoices]

Coming next week… Open Heart: Second Year! 😍❤️

[ernestsinclairs]

they need to operate on this coochie cause it’s getting torn up real soon

[ernestsinclairs]

Please write a Tyril fic too! (Hopefully nsfw) but anything is fine! Btw love ur Mal drabble

Yes, I’m waiting for him to be properly introduced first!

[ernestsinclairs]

Human - Adrian Raines x MC

Adrian Raines x MC (Doriana)

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For the first time in three hundred years, Adrian Raines found himself unable to see.

When he turned his face to the window, he could no longer see the individual faces of passerby fifty stories down or hear the running water on the first floor bathroom. It was silent save for the pounding of his own blood in his temples.

For the first time in three hundred years, Adrian Raines was human once more.

“Adrian?”

He turned back around to see a lovely face, her face. A face full of worry and a plaintive look of apology. There was no need for her to apologize. She had done the only thing left to do.

“There’s things you can do now,” she whispered, tentatively touching his arm. When he didn’t respond, he added her other hand and curled herself around it. “We can do them together.”

She drew back the curtains on the windows to their full extent, letting the new sunrise light up the room in a golden hue. 

“You always said you missed the sunlight.”

Adrian stepped closer to the window and pressed his hand to the glass, marveling at the simple warmth. Just a few years ago, he would have thought a day like this to be impossible. Him, human once more, soaking in the golden warmth of the sun with mortal blood pounding in his ears. 

“I did,” he said quietly, finally tearing his eyes away from the glorious sight to focus on an even better one: her face. 

“Thank you.”

Her lip quavered.

“You’re not a vampire anymore. I reversed it all, Rheya, the bloodlines, everything. You can’t run or fight like you used to live forever or-”

He cut her off with a gentle kiss, pushing her against the warming glass. A tiny moan escaped her lips.

“I don’t care,” he whispered under his breath as she sagged in relief and kissed him back.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

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[ernestsinclairs]

Mal - Relationship Headcanons

- Kit. That was what he called you for the first year or so. No matter how many times you pulled him out of a tight situation or slew a beast that was about to do the same to him, he still muttered that name under his breath. 

- He was hot as hell. Literally. The man radiated heat like it was his second nature and every time you were cold, all you had to do was cup Mal’s cheeks to slip them under his tunic. Ten seconds later, and you would be all warmed up.

- The two of you wandered from town to town, scoping out the next adventure or great idol to be retrieved. You swore on your life that Mal was unable to settle down and be happy anywhere, so off to the next place you went. 

- Alcohol. Lots of it. It didn’t matter if it was cheap ale smuggled from the last 

tavern you passed through or the finest elven wine money could buy. The two of you would pass the bottle back and forth across the campfire while the night birds sang in the background.

- The life of an adventurer was definitely risky. There were more times you could count where he stumbled into the house covered in blood from cuts you couldn’t even see.

- When that happened, you would sit him down on the bed and gently peel back the layers, fingers light as to not hurt him further. Then you would dab on the salve and blow on the wounds, maybe kiss them if he let you. Meanwhile, he would just stare at you in wonder, dark eyes sparkling in the low candlelight.

- “What are you looking at?”

- “Nothing, kit.”

- Looking the way he does, Mal got more than a few looks from highborn ladies riding by or the barmaids at whatever dump you stopped in for the night. He would give a few winks just to get a rise out of them, but for the most part, his hand was curled tightly around your waist. You would do the same, locking eyes with the other women and raising an eyebrow that was perfectly arched from practice. You were his and he was yours. There was no question about it.

- If he ever had to venture out alone, you could count on thing: gifts. He would bring back little trinkets and treasures from all corners of the world. The little chest in your shared bedroom was full of elven jewelry that were rumored to have real starlight trapped in them (fake ones were so yesterday) and orcish carvings that came to life and danced in your palm.

- You made love. A lot. You could do it in a luxurious room draped with flowers and scented oils. You could do it in the woods somewhere when Mal dragged you off the road for a bit of fun. Quite simply, you got to know each other quite well.

- Mal’s hair was amazing. You wondered how it could stay so thick and well cared for with the lifestyle he had, but you weren’t complaining. In times of stress, you would card your fingers through it while he murmured in soft approval. If he ever had trouble sleeping, that was what put him to sleep like a rock.

- It was a hard life full of near death experiences and constant broken promises that you wouldn’t get hurt. But one thing was constant: him. No matter what you went through or who was chasing after you, Mal was running by your side and pulling you along.

- And as the dying flames in the fireplace cast long shadows on the walls, you knew they couldn’t hurt you. After all, he was by your side.

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