#COME HERE AND HUG ME YOU USELESS KING

[legally-killable-sparrow]

Odysseus over here like ‘I was such a terrible person… I came back but Penelope I’m not the same man…’

And Penelope’s Not Having That Shit, girl is just like ‘FUCK THAT. YOU ARE my HUSBAND. YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST QUIT BECAUSE YOUVE MURDERED A BABY OR TWO? FUCK I COULD KILL A BABY RIGHT HERE IF YOU NEED ME THAT RIDE OR DIE’

And anyways one day I’ll find a woman who I can confess my love and terrible deeds to just like her

[vyainide]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤcoax me out, my loveㅤㅤ＼ㅤcomforting op menㅤㅤ𖥟

ワンピース၇⃪⃖ꪆ୧ㅤluffy, zoro & lawㅤ 𓊉 ㅤ~𝟣.𝟤𝗄—𝟣.𝟦𝗄𝗐𝖼ㅤ───gn! reader, canon compliant, angst/comfort, character study, can be romantic or platonic, marineford spoilers (luffy, zoro), thriller bark spoilers (zoro), dressrosa spoilers (law)᭮ ━─⠀ ❤︎ ㅤ2025©vyainide ㅤㅤ︶ིྀᩧㅤ1864lib

vyon's mouthpiece. sanji is not here because i haven't seen his backstory yet, i could write it bc it's impossible to avoid op spoilers for any arc and i essentially know the backbone of his lore, but i'm afraid i wouldn't do it enough justice so i'm just gonna not

sometimes, he gets distant— it's not then that you need to worry about luffy. you know to give him more credit now since you've become something to him; it's the times that he brands himself into you— stubborn and tense, even when it starts to hurt that you have enough basis to be worried.

the papers had ravished into every detail they could when it came to marineford, eager, eager, so disgustingly eager to find a physicality in ace's blood; they'd exaggerated every gory detail with a numbness that only those in their field are privy to. dug out open wounds where there were scars, tore wider cuts that were already stitched, ripped away the scab that had just formed— merciless.

you saw the news, everyone else in the crew did no doubt. and you'd have to give the paparazzi credit, they were there. you were not.

how the mighty whitebeard died standing, not bowing to any marine even in his death, stood as a shield for the sons he'd carelessly picked up over the years; how jinbei, shanks, all these big name pirates had shown up if only to cause enough chaos to make them regret; how ace— poor, sweet, loveable ace— died. you knew all the details, but you did not know the luffy that had lost his brother.

it was something that you did not quite know how to address when you'd come back from those gruesome years spent so out of reach from your captain, your crew, your family with only the trust you had in them that knew not one of them would go down. the return to saobaody archipelago was an undoing, the same way that it was when you'd been separated.

you worried a lot, and you're ashamed to admit that it was very much useless when you'd came across chopper first— and then he'd managed to coax you into buying him cotton candy like no years had passed at all. like time had been cut and sewn back together seamlessly and you were back to the day that camie and hachi were showing you around.

and from there, things speed up quick. you're allowed to sink into nami's arms when she offers you a hug, you laugh at usopp's stories of his mentor and an island that wanted to eat him, your stomach rejoices when it's finally satiated by sanji's cooking— you can finally smile at luffy, but there's no time for anything else. you've spent many nights grappling on how to be there for luffy when you were reunited, but he seems to return to you whole. toughened up, with that same smile that only reassures no matter what and after fishman island, you can't, in good conscious, ask luffy to slow down and force him back into the memories that no doubt haunt.

and haunt they do.

you've never reckoned luffy to be weak— no, he was your captain and he was the man who was going to be the king of pirates. you've placed your bets on him long ago, all in for this firecracker of a teen, but marineford had done something to him— to the luffy that has always stood so proudly in your memory like a god out of touch.

when you see a rival pirate sneak up on luffy from behind him, you see that photo that had been caught by chance in marineford. the luffy that had never bowed to any authority with his shaky arms, wrapped tight around his dying brother— not in the usual manner, the excitable way where he'd coil his arm around, once, twice, thrice. his fingertips barely touching as they wrapped around ace's middle, his head ducked down into the slope of ace's neck, shoulders closed in. this was not your captain who had taken down crocodile, who had punched a celestial dragon, who had saved countless members of his crew. this was luffy that had lost ace.

and you think, you've been thinking that luffy could have well died in that battle. it's selfish in a way that you know luffy would never quite accept, but you're a pirate. so you step in between the sword and luffy— and when you see the absolute horror that contorts luffy's vision, you think you can understand him a little bit better.

you wake up a little after less than twenty–four hours and nothing is out of the ordinary, except— except for the fact that your right hand is numb when the sword had driven through your stomach. hazily dragging your eyes over the lines of wooden planks that made up the ceiling of chopper's office until it pulls down onto a squeeze of your hand. "captain." your throat aches.

"you—" his bottom lip wobbles and his hand, wrapped around yours, squeezes again. you wince.

he sees it, he loosens up a little, but his fingers continue on, pressing between the meat of the bones in the back of your hand.

chopper comes in, sees you've woken up, and takes over accordingly.

you don't get to talk to luffy about this incident either.

things melt back into what they used to be and what stands out when you look at luffy is that expression that had degraded onto his face when you'd jumped in front of him. burdened by a shame and guilt, you let it be.

two days pass— not so normally as luffy has taken to becoming an unmovable extension of you and you let that be until it becomes a problem.

"luffy," he turns to you when you call for him, "are you okay?"

he makes a face that's as judgemental as he can fathom— it's similar to how nami's face twists, only his eyebrows are pinched more in a zoro–like fashion. "why?" sticks his face closer to yours and his eyes draw wide, deep and suddenly unfathomable, "you're the one in bandages," he says like it's an insult. you're surprisingly wounded by it though so maybe it was.

"it's not a competition." but if it were, you don't think you'd be winning. luffy doesn't dignify that with a response past a loud huff and shrugging away, his hands tightened around his ankle but the length of his arm is wrapped around yours. "i'm sorry, luffy." and it's obvious, far too obvious, that it would have been you that gives in first.

a good captain he is, luffy knows you have more to say— his ear twitches but he doesn’t turn back to look at you. amused, you reach out for his hand and pull it from his ankle. "i am sorry, captain. i think everyone is."

that interests him enough to incline his head back to you, the straw hat tipping with the slope. you leave it be and nod your head down to the material, resting against him. "for not being there." you can't see his face but you're shamelessly capable of imagining what it looks like right now.

"s'not your fault." he tells you, voice as even as he could make it. "it's," his chest puffs up like he was starting a sigh but it never goes back down. "i was right there 'n—" his voice cracks. "it was meant for me."

ah, you realise something, you've hurt him more than you imagined. the hand you've held loosely twists around and settles over your thighs; when he clenches down, violent in the blunt press of his nails softened over the material of your trousers, you don't wince. "ace must have been happy." you can say that confidently. "to see that his younger brother had come to save him— embarrassed too i bet."

cocky that you're trying to lighten the mood but luffy huffs a laugh so you know you must be right. "he was," luffy tells you, petulant and childish. "he told me to go away."

you let that rest for a while, let it dust off the still hurt that had been weighing luffy down and allow your captain to find that after his small laugh, something in his heart stretches outwards, then snaps back into place with an ease that he'd lost since marineford.

then you're at it again. "ace couldn't have lived with himself if you had died for him— and i know it well. if he had lost you and whitebeard at the expense of himself," you don't finish that sentence because you know luffy understands. it's in the way that his hand loosens around your thigh. "i'm sorry i wasn't there and that i stepped in the way of that sword, but luffy—"

"i know." solemn. "don't say it." demanding.

"okay captain." smiling, you push closer into luffy.

the captain and his first mate, and you say this with so much love in your heart, are two like minded buffons. you knew that they had sailed together in a little dinghy together before they had received the going merry from a friend of usopp's and you have to wonder how the hell they had survived. luffy was one thing, but zoro was another.

zoro's charmed you to believe in his competence. he's a monolith of a man— every part of him heavy, hurtful, mean, he carries three swords, his eyebrows set in a deep frown that is soothed by no name branded alcohol, steps silent and so sure. strong shoulders set back, the boredom on his face easily mistakable as an easy glare— they knew him as pirate hunter roronoa zoro before he'd crawled onto a pirate ship and claimed his title as monkey d. luffy's first mate.

you're disillusioned enough now by this untouchable man. he's one braincell that is easily swayed by anything powerful and it sometimes aligns itself with luffy's own singular braincell. zoro is little more than a simple muscle head that is aware, to a fault, of his own shortcomings. his reckoning had come to him on thriller bark; you've no idea what exactly it was. he maintains that nothing happened, sanji and brook (the only ones privy to this detail) refuse to blab about it. and you respect zoro enough to leave it alone, but you do not miss the look that he offers luffy's back sometimes, like he's discerning something deep in his itchy bones, teething around the ache to get to the rot.

you know his origins well. he's a force that had come, snarling and biting, out of the east blue— toppled whatever hierarchy they'd made there as a singular unit. you also know that east blue is the weakest of all four seas so it matters not that zoro was considered strong there. he may have had the strength to protect himself in that weak sea, but he was more than a lone wolf now and the rest of the world? it should not be underestimated.

zoro, prideful man he is, had to learn that lesson the hard way. saobaody archipelago was the hurricane after the storm; for a short moment after thriller bark, it had seemed like zoro had learnt how to live after nothing, how to cope with it. you're still curious as ever, but you know to leave well enough alone.

then, there's after saobaody, split into two very precise periods. before marineford and after marineford. you take it about as well as you could and though you're not one to compare, you know that zoro must have taken it harder. luffy and zoro's joining didn't begin with the latter pledging his loyalty, nami had dramatised the tale to express her woes of sailing with a group of brutes (and usopp), but it was enough for you to understand. after his first reckoning at baratie, zoro had prided himself as luffy's first mate, staked his claim as the man stood by his side. his own dreams weaved perfectly into luffy's.

saobaody happens again and zoro has only grown stronger in those two years— even though he's now missing an eye.

you recognise quickly that his pride, his ego is quieter these days. it's still as easy as ever for him to be riled up by sanji, but it's more stagnant. on nights where he's no reason to be awake, watch duty delegated to someone else— just as capable— he's awake, an overbearing presence that refuses to rest. on your nights, zoro hovers.

you don't take it personally. you know that zoro believes in your capability just as much he does his own, but recently, you've been doubting his faith. not the faith he has in you, the faith he has in himself.

"what's up with you?" you can't help yourself from asking one night, up on the highest vantage of the sunny where it's easier to see.

zoro peeks over his shoulder, levels his one good eye at you, and glares— wow he's good at using that eye. your hands slip from the purchase of his shoulders, the pressure that had been keeping him bent down against his calves lets up and he follows the singing relief, straightening up. "what'dya mean?"

there's a lightness to his words that you belatedly recognise from the past, he hasn't been letting you see that recently. whiplashed from the sudden realisation, you give him your own stink–eye, annoyed more when it only carries half the potency that zoro's does. "you're running yourself dry is what i mean." your hands settle onto your hips.

he's undisturbed by the attempt at dominance so you give it up quick. sighing as you slump down next to him; he continues to stretch without your help.

"who did you go to?" you ask after a moment, realising that you didn't know.

zoro, bent down against his right leg, body inclined away from you, answers easily. "dracule mihawk." his voice a grunt of effort with his organs crushed.

"woah. really?" you can't imagine that— or well, you can, but it wasn't very easy. he doesn't dignify that with a response, stretches his body to his left leg, his arm brushed up against your knee as he wraps his hand around his ankle. "you trained with that guy?" scrunching up your face, "can't imagine him offering to train you."

"he didn't offer," you eye zoro warily, like his back would split open and cymbal clapping monkeys would grow from his spine, "i asked."

"you did?" you wince when you hear the own surprise in your voice, even though you think that the cymbal playing monkeys wouldn't be so strange now. "when?"

"after."

you pathetically fight the urge to wack him, hands turned into fists. "after what?"

zoro can't eye you since you're sat on his left so he stretches an arm out to push away your face. "stop bothering me."

hitting his arm away, you lean into him. "you're bothering me. it's my night." intruding into his personal space, you push your arm through the gap of his torso and his knee, slapping his nose. "after marineford?" he bites your hand and you take it as a yes, though you're sure it could also mean fuck off.

you gag, pulling your arm away.

you know zoro well enough now to know that he's only at rest when he knows everyone is accounted for; never speaks it verbal though, does a rudimentary sweep of the sunny with his haki and settles when he feels the giggling chirp of his crews' heartbeat that soothes his own. you don't bother with words, zoro has no need for them.

shifting, you slide behind zoro. "okay," you relent, pretending that this conversation never happened. "thank you for keeping me company, mister pirate hunter." slumping over so that you can lean your side against his back as it straightens up, your head hits his shoulder as he grows, back to the steady obelisk that the sunny depends on.

"if you fall asleep on me, i'm telling luffy."

you wrap your arms around his neck, inner elbow against his adam's apple; you let him go when he taps out for the third time.

to live his life right, law needed a heavy hitting hand, a very forceful and demanding hand that knows no refusal. no one pretended that it wasn't necessary, not even the man himself; the task is delegated mostly onto bepo, who law has an unexplainable soft spot for, shachi and penguin, who can hide behind their self proclaimed roles as his seniors in life and grew up with him, and ikkaku, who law treats a little bit less rough on account of her being female.

that's why everyone was so disconcerted about being told to go to zou without him— it would happen ultimately because the heart pirates prided themselves on their selfless loyalty and what their captain says, goes. but the aforementioned childhood friends were a lot more vocal, could afford to be, about their dislike of his plan. everyone else silently sided with shachi and penguin, treated law like he might shatter for the following weeks leading up to the split, drove him up the wall with it.

despite it all, law is a good captain— too good, separates himself from the individuality that would intonate himself as anything but a captain, so he leaves his crew alone when they start treading 'round him like he's about a breath away from shattering. it doesn't last too long though, because after an entire day's worth of silent looks from his crew and then badgering from shachi, he blows like a poorly constructed pipe— you all blame it on shachi and he takes it as poorly as law did, if only more childish.

after yelling about anything and everything— unrelated things like the state of the kitchen, the stain that clione had been sporting all week, the state of bepo's fur (which the mink apologises repeatedly for), the scarce stock of coffee grounds, law is sober enough to glare at everyone, except bepo for whom he offers something of an apologetic look, and then makes a point of stomping to his room like a prepubescent teenager in the midst of his angst. following his outburst, everyone peeks around quietly at each other until someone gains the balls to speak.

ironically, it's ikkaku who throws her arms into the air and declares that she can't do it anymore. she's looking at you pointedly, which makes everyone else follow— even bepo, his two life seniors, jean-bart "traitors," you call them.

you follow after the quake of law's stamping, the metal panels of the polar tang squeaking under your careful feet as if forewarning your fate. you knock on the door of his quarters, forceful hand he needs, you don't wait for the answer that'll never come and come in swinging. "captain," you greet, acquiescently.

he looks all parts of a man that was mourning a loved one— the man he was before he picked up his idiotic and nosy crew. sat on the edge of his bed, knees locked as he stabilises his elbows on them and rests his head on his hands, fingers locked together. law doesn't even acknowledge you as you invite yourself in, overbearing and click the door shut behind you, ignore the fact that his two life seniors will come and press their ears up against the door.

a miffed huff leaves his throat when you take a seat next to him, the dip of the mattress makes you slide up next to him. "they're worried," you give him a pointed look that makes the sarcastic remark on his tongue shrivel. "that's all— we're not going to stop you if you're so insistent on going off alone."

your look doesn't stop him this time— incline his head away so that he can look up at you, something of a sarcastic grin on his face. "you seem hellbent on trying though." your eyes trace over the scruff of his face, up between the creases at the corner of his dry lips, catch on the honey gold of his eyes that flicker with his eyelashes.

"we physically can't," you sweatdrop, "you've built a crew of medics, who here can overpower you?" he shakes his head away, a small laugh, his shoulders loosening. "if only shachi hadn't been caught in his plans of procuring a set of seastone cuffs that we would've used to chain you to bed." you let out a faux sigh.

"don't try that again."

you eye his door, imagine the shiver that runs down shachi's spine with the veiled threat. despite how awful and strange the one–sided interaction ended, everything simmers back down and the crew is back to their usual idiocy when law leaves his room a half an hour after you've left and makes a point of not looking at anyone whilst making himself coffee, then dropping by the navigation room. the heart pirates bask in the coldness of their cruel captain's forgiveness.

when he leaves, it's full of tears and promises. law, as he usually does, looks about as emotionally constipated as ever and he can only take the dramatic farewell until shachi delegates himself as stand–in captain. he opens up a room, but doesn't shamble away until he tells you all that anyone— quite literally anyone— can be the stand–in captain if it means that shachi is not. you all wordlessly push the role onto penguin and then watch his room fizzle away after he shambles himself. then, the polar tang is off.

you all keep up with him the best you could. all you get is a newspaper headlining doflamingo's resignation as a warlord, it's hard to get news on zou, apparently. it's fine though— because even if law had not promised that he'd make it back in one piece, make it back at all, you knew he was a good captain and death was not as kind enough to take him yet.

when law comes back to you, he's smaller in a way you can't fathom. it's strange only because you feel like you're finally seeing him for the first time— everything redundant peeled back, the flesh that he keeps up to continue as a captain pinned away, bones shaved down, muscles melted, and you were staring at law. if anyone else in the crew sees it, they don't mention it.

when you're allowed to, your arms wrap around his middle— pat down his back as if feeling for his body and slide your ear against his heart. it's a hug that's too tender and intimate, less excitable than the ones that his oldest friends have offered him and law has since become a stranger to this kind of touch. he feels like an imposter when he lets his arms circle around you.

you don't say anything to law during or after that, don't bother giving him ammunition to be able to rationalise, nitpick, and dissect your words into anything less than it is. you leave him with a hug and make him grasp at the meaning.

if law is there, hidden around a corner or behind a tree, when you sincerely thank luffy for bringing him back— half–alive and less of a vindictive existence— whether it's by design or not, he does not know. but he's thankful regardless, for not being forced to come face with it.

[kkobweek]

KKOB Week 2025 Works: Part 1

Works published on Tumblr, AO3, Bluesky, and Twitter! Check those out if you have missed them!

🌸To view artworks, you can check out our tag #art 🌸To view fics and drabbles, check out our tag #writing 🌸For headcanons, the tag is #headcanons 🌸For animations, the tag is #animatic Daily prompts: Firsts Kakashi's first and last kiss by @no-nic First Kiss by @solavonn Picnic by @asiriyep First Kiss by @finn-kinnie Fishing by @dellinkou First Kiss by @pridoo Experimental by @back-to-rose To the Moon by @anj-does-stuff Rated R for Rumors by @cool-thymus & @maireyart Waking up next to you by ITerAtiveGLue (twitter) Shared vision Sharingan Obkk by @anj-does-stuff Mokuton whirly series by @acianoh These dreams by @dottixml Movie by @kawkawsrii The same eye by @mdrarw A vision by @crescentmoonrider Obito sees the future by @obitobi-simp 3D shared vision by @just-puddding Tsukuyomi shared vision by @sarcasticfoxy Sharing the eyes by @whatchawantdude He sees Kisame by @picklestupid Hokage Obito by @xierurru Those who inherit the will of fire by @kunosiu Mirror by @beanieable See the future for me by @ohai-here Shared vision by UrBigBadBro (twitter) Secret Identity / Dropping the Act Tobi and Sukea by @kubicrumb Tobi and Sukea hug by @solavonn Obito and Kakashi the whirly series by @acianoh Tobi wanted by @sarcasticfoxy Fables for the War Torn by @seiruins Interviewer by @asiriyep Joubito and Sukea by @dottixml To the rest of the world, they are Tobi and Sukea by @dellinkou Joubito's secret identity by @maireyart No way back by @pridoo Spars with the Uchiha King by @crescentmoonrider Tobi & Sukea in bed by @kawkawsrii (semi-nsfw) Daffodil by @anj-does-stuff The new Mizukage by @picklestupid Akatsuki Tobi and Sukea by @beanieable Tobi and Sukea + their personal effects by @xierurru Regular Anbu by @ohai-here Secret identity doodles by UrBigBadBro (twitter) What girl clothes can do for a man by Mud_catboy (AO3)

Recovery Kakashi is recovering by @solavonn if you wanna cry (use my heart) by @mabledonut Candiru AU by @asiriyep A quick fix by @finn-kinnie White-haired Obito recovering by @uintuva 6 months since Kannabi by @dellinkou Obito bit his lip by @pridoo It's just me. by @cool-thymus A tiny vigil by @maireyart Obito was alive by @beanieable Akatsuki Sukea(kk) & Tobi Au by @xierurru I won't abandon you by @ohai-here Mission gone wrong Mr. Ukki by @maireyart Found him too late by @back-to-rose Come in, the water is fine by @anj-does-stuff Land of frost by @just-puddding Back to back by @crescentmoonrider Kakashi found out by @picklestupid

Time-travel/Body swap Kids and Adults by @solavonn Nose Kiss by @pridoo No one knows AU by @no-nic Something Experimental by @asiriyep Hug by @sarcasticfoxy They argue by @dellinkou Married to the hokage by @dottixml Kamui mishap by @uintuva (nsfw) (bsky) end of the line by @sulluspark Abstract bodyswap by @picklestupid Experimenting with time-travel by @crescentmoonrider Lil Kakashi by @kawkawsrii Uchiha AU by @beanieable Kakashi & Obito bodyswapping by @xierurru Peaceful Konoha by @ohai-here Fashion choices Models by @asiriyep They look cool by @dellinkou Goth obkk by @uintuva Silly eye marriage au by @just-puddding Tobi and Sukea exchanged clothes by @sarcasticfoxy Curiosity killed the cat by @spacealligator Secret Identity & Fashion Choices by ITerAtiveGLue (twitter)

Flowers White-haired Obito blooming by @kubicrumb Anniversary day by @picklestupid Hanahaki by @picklestupid Oblivious Obito by @pridoo A useless trick by @crescentmoonrider Hand kiss by @beanieable The price of love by @kunosiu Them as flowers by @xierurru Flowers by holleeelly (twitter) Flowers by monkey__pedal (twitter) Diary/Letters Obito's diary by @picklestupid

[Part 2]

[imdeadinsidesiriuslydead]

Must you be so cruel?

Cardan Greenbriar x fae!princess!reader

a/n: this concept was most requested so here you are. warnings: swearing, no smut (unless y’all want a part 2 with some😏lmk), not proofread I have like six more to write

As your steads stop for water, your mother approaches you.

“We are almost there.” She grins excitedly.

you roll your eyes as you fix your riding skirt.

“yay.” You say, unenthusiastically. Your mother had arranged a ball with the High Court, you suspected she was trying to marry your older sister off to one of the princes. But you dreaded seeing a particular prince with a stupid rat tail.

“Don’t take an attitude with me, y/n” your mother warned, “we need to be on our best behavior. We mustn’t insult the High King or Queen.”

Your mother made you changed once you made it to the Palace. Your dress was black as to not outshine your sisters. As you walked into the Throne room, you spotted the king and queen but no sign of that dreaded prince.

You make your way to the King and bow as your parents exchange pleasantries.

After your mother turns to you “Go grab your sister some wine.”

“Why? She has legs.” You said as you smooth down the ruffles of your skirt.

“She is talking to Prince Dain. I will not interfere with the makings of an engagement.” Your mother said sternly.

you sigh, “yes ma’am.”

As you make your way to the banquet table, you look around at the folk dancing. Trying to shield your eyes from the naked folk, you grab a glass and have a servant fill it with wine.

You look back and see your sister dancing with Prince Dain, and you smile to yourself. Even though your mother made you come here and has been driving you crazy, it’s nice to see your sister radiant smile light up the dance floor.

The glass being rather useless now that she’s dancing, you start to down the drink when someone clears there throat.

“It’s unlady like to chug wine 30 minutes into a ball.” Nicasia said sharply. “You filthy half breed.”

you turn dreading facing her. When you look, she’s wearing a body hugging blue dress and a face of pure disgust.

“Mermaid style dress? That’s a bit on the nose isn’t it?” You say continuing to sip from your glass.

“Why are you even here?” She spits, seemingly losing her patience even though she approached you.

“She was invited unfortunately.” A voice behind you called.

You freeze. God damn it. You turn around to find Cardan’s gold rimmed eyes staring back at yours.

“Cardan.” You acknowledge, turning back to watch your sister.

“Y/n. Is your mother trying to push your boring sister onto my brother?” He asked as Nicasia laughs moving to link arms with him.

“Must you be so cruel?” You ask, annoyed.

“Only to you.” He replied.

“I’m not completely sure of my mother’s intentions, I haven’t asked.” You say, finishing your glass. “Afraid of your reputation if you become related to a half mortal?” You ask, motioning for a servant to get you another glass.

“I’d be disgusted to be related to you.” He says as Nicasia laughs.

A grin spreads across you face as an idea comes to your head.

“Why?” You ask with an innocent grin.

“must there be a reason? That’s a reason enough.” He replied.

“Yes, I’m curious. Why would you be disgusted to be related to me?” You ask.

“Most far find the existence of half bloods disgusting.” He said brushing if off

“Yes most of the folk. What about you though? What’s your real reason for not wanting to be related to me?” You smirk.

His smirk momentarily drops before regaining his composure.

“My opinion of you.” He says before grabbing Nicasia’s hand and pulling her to dance. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving.”

you laugh to yourself as a servant puts the wine glass back in your hand.

—————————

Later that night as the ball is winding down, your Mother asks you to retrieve your sister.

You look around the dance floor to no avail, no sign of her.

Walking out of the hall, you make your way into hallway. Looking around and opening seemingly endless doors, grew tiresome.

As you give up and walk back to the banquet hall, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Your boring sister is in my brothers room.” A drunken voice called.

turning to see Cardan with the gold juice of fae fruit smeared on his lips while the smell of wine on his mouth. He looks at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

“Oh.” You say, realizing you’ll have to explain to your mother that your sister is spending the night with the prince. But then you realize Cardan has not moved his hand from your shoulder.

Quickly pushing his hand off you, he stumbles grabbing ahold of your arm to stabilize himself.

“Cardan how much have you had to drink?” You asked annoyed.

“I lost count after 12 glasses.” He said as he focused back on your face. “And why’d you have to shove me?” He whined.

“Oh you’re such a baby.” You say, using your arm to support him as you guide him to walk.

“Where are we going?” He asked leaning on you.

“Your room, you need to be put to bed before you hurt yourself.” You say dragging him through the corridor.

“But I left my wine goblet.” He says trying to pull you back to the alcove he emerged from.

“If you go back for it, I’ll leave you there and you can pass out on the floor for all I care.” You say letting go of him.

“Fine.” He huffs.

As you reach his room you open the door and close it behind you. You push him onto the bed and he laughs looking up at you.

“That’s not how I imaged it.” He laughs, eyes glazed over.

“Imagined what?” You asked as you move to leave.

“You pushing me onto the bed.” He replied as if it was common knowledge.

You mule over the words in your head. He seems more honest when drunk. Before you can stop yourself, you find your self asking.

“Why would you hate it if we were related?”

“My thoughts of you would be considered inappropriate. The thoughts I don’t want to have.” He relied his eyes getting droopy.

“What do you think about me?” You ask.

“The thought of you in my arms.” He said as his eyes shut.

You stare there for a minute, processing this new information. You wait until you hear soft snoring before opening the door and turning to find your mother.

~~~~~~~

[crippling-characters-addiction]

ugh... cliche as FUCK but knight Jayce?

- tmasc no bottom surgery gang

context. my pookie bear here sent me this at 3 am for them after binging knight x prince listener asmr and forgot to type in prince reader lmfao 🙏😔 ily pookie but get some damn sleep

keeping me informed in useless shit I see... I can barely pass chemistry in school but I can tell you about merfolk reproduction and the people closest to the monarch

also teeny tiny fic at the end (I couldn't help myself)

Crowns and Armor

Jayce and you grew up together in the castle. He was the son of your parents' "hand". Ximena Talis was the king and queen's closest advisor and head of the Small Council.

Outside of royal and diplomatic duties, Ximena and your parents were close friends, and they naturally left you and Jayce to play in the gardens while they had tea.

Jayce's responsibility was to become your advisor when you ruled, and he took it very seriously. You just wanted to live your life while you could before all the royal responsibilities started falling on you.

He was going to grow up to be the king's hand, just like his mother now. And you were growing up to be the king, like your father.

As you grew up and Jayce got into page training, you refused to let go of the childish whimsy that still clung to you.

Your time with your best friend started becoming more serious as the years passed. You watching him train to be a knight, him accompanying you to meet princes, princesses, lords, ladies, nobles, etcetera. But you were always joined at the hip.

If people ever questioned you on why you brought that page (lowest knight rank) with you everywhere you would shrug and say "He shall be my hand when I rule, should my closest friend and advisor not know me?"

By the time you were both in your late teens, your parents started introducing you to suitors. Other royals whose parents wanted to form allyships with your kingdom by marrying off their sons or daughters.

As always, Jayce was right beside you in their attempts at courting you. As a chaperone, but you wanted him there anyways. Those princes were so pretentious and the princesses were shallow.

So having your best friend with you was the only way you would agree to sit and listen to a snobby prince tell you about how all the ladies in his land fall at his feet.

After those meetings, you needed some time to clear your head, so you would go to the gardens and climb up a tree with Jayce and just sit in silence. Of course, after a while you would start to mock the prince's voice and he would try not to laugh because it's disrespectful but he'd break as you talked about his ugly mustache.

Jayce's room was close to yours as per your request since you were kids. But sometimes you would have secret sleepovers. You'd play dress up with your fancy clothes (until he hit a growth spurt). You'd sneak fruits and sweet treats out of the kitchen and pretend to have a tea party at midnight. You would tell each other secrets; who you liked, what whispers you heard in the halls of the palace.

Hug each other when there was thunder (he'd pretend to be brave but he was probably more scared than you despite being a year older).

You still did that now that you were older. You talked about your future, about the things you hated about being a prince, the ways he won sparring contests that day.

You realized you were in love with him long before you even thought about your coronation. He had no idea he even liked you that way until you were given your first crown.

(I made this part up. Princes only get actual crowns in their coronation after the reigning monarchs die but let's pretend in this made up kingdom that when princes/princesses come of age they are given a small and simple crown with the official title of "monarch in waiting")

It was your birthday! People were happy and proud of the prince they had raised in their kingdom, and the king that you would become. Jayce was specially excited about this, the day you became an adult and got a shiny crown. He woke up first thing in the morning to wake you up with your favorite dessert.

You, on the other hand, were nervous as hell. You knew how diplomacy works, you knew how to govern a kingdom, your parents had been teaching you everything since the day you learned to write and read. But that lingering doubt and anxiety was still eating away at the back of your brain.

Jayce comforted you, he knew well how nauseous this made you feel. He also made sure to tell you how much he believes in you and your competence and capacity for ruling.

The ceremony came. Jayce sat next to his mom with the rest of the council and he watched the way you wore those ceremonial clothes. The way you kneeled and repeated the oath to your kingdom as the new king in waiting.

He watched how serious but determined you looked, ready to become the kind and merciful king you were always meant to be. He felt something stir in his heart, and that's when he realized that he couldn't live without you.

As your mother, the queen, set the crown on your head and the people cheered. He knew why he could never stand those other royals trying to court you.

The ceremony ended and the celebration started. The palace was full of food stalls and people dancing around, probably already drunk only three hours after sundown.

Jayce lost sight of you after the banquet. He thought you would go right to the stall your favorite baker set up but you didn't.

He asked around for you but, since no one had seen you, he went to the place you always went to when you needed time and air.

You were sat on a branch of the tree you both used to climb as kids. You looked at the crown you held in your lap, he couldn't tell what you were feeling.

"What are you doing up there?" You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard his voice, then you looked down at the ground.

"I am... just thinking, Jayce." He smiled sympathetically and carefully climbed up the tree with you, sitting on the base of your branch, hoping it was strong enough.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right? I'm your best friend." He reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I know that... it's simply- now there is more pressure from the neighboring kingdoms to marry. My parents keep saying I should choose with my heart and take my time but I cannot help but notice that worry in their eyes." He pulled you closer to him and pet your hair.

"You... really don't like anybody, do you?" His chest hurt just a tinge when he said that. He could no longer deny his love for you after it dawned on him, not that he wanted to hide it. But you were still a prince, and he was just your advisor.

"That is exactly the problem-" You squeezed him in a hug. "I do love someone. But I cannot be with him..."

"Why not? You- you're so lovable! Have you even seen how many people want to court you?"

You groaned and pushed yourself away from his embrace. "I don't want them. They either like me for my power and my kingdom or for my looks. I want someone who truly knows me..."

"Who is it that you love?"

"It matters not... He does not love me that way."

"Who is it?" He whined out your name like a dog. "Please tell me." You rolled your eyes but sighed fondly. You took a slow, steadying breath and turned to look at him in the eyes.

"His name is Jayce Talis."

It turns out you were wrong. He does love you that way.

[cookie-gal]

A mini chapter of The faint hearted King(my EPIC AU )

Man's best friend

Note; Those who are easily disturbed by animal death shouldn't be here...I recommend skipping this mini chapter.

It was nighttime, Odysseus gently caressed Telemachus' head as he covered him up in the blanket of the bed. He felt safe and sane for once.

He looked towards the side, the edge of the bed to see a empty dog bed

"What? Where is he..?"

He started to get anxious again. Where was he, was he in his bedroom? Odysseus hoped for the best, Hoping that his best friend is fine.. But, but he was sick.. too sick to move., maybe he was getting better?? Maybe...

Odysseus raced quickly towards his bedroom to see no dog in sight.. He..he was gone?

Why did he hoped for him to be in HIS room? What was he thinking?!

How can he be so dumb?

Odysseus' anxiety starting to stir inside of him, frantically running through corridor after corridor, to only finally find him in the living room near the fireplace

"No...!!"

The sad man slowly approached the dog.. There was barley a pulse. Argos wasn't breathing

"NO, NO NO NO NO!!! A-ARGOS WAKE UP PLEASE! PLEASE..! PLEASE DON'T.. NO!! I THOUGHT... I HAD MORE TIME FOR YOU DAMMIT!! Please.. buddy, please wake up... I can't lose you too!"

SUCH A FAILURE OF A MAN AND FRIEND

COULDN'T EVEN SAVE HIS OWN DAMN DOG

"I'M SO SORRY, I'M SUCH AN IDIOT!!"

He repeatedly apologized, stammered, and shuddered, the dog in his arms. He already, lost his wife though she wasn't dead she was still away from him. And he was still hurting from that. But this felt more painful for him. His heart felt like it was getting brutally crushed

"AAAAGH ARGOS PLEASE!! P-PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!! PLEASE.. Please.. I don't want you to go.. please not now! I can't lose another love one.. I can't take so much pain! It hurts.. it hurts so much.."

Pleading, and crying for him to come back was useless, though Odysseus continued to. He weeped and trembled with the dog still in his arms for hours until on end..

Telemachus woke up to the warmth beam of the sun rising in his bedroom. He decided to go and greet his dad but, his dad wasn't in the bedroom? Telemachus looked through the big window above of the king's bed to see Odysseus outside in the garden on his knees.

2

Was he crying? Why was he crying, what happened??

Telemachus dashes outside the garden to cautiously confront his father.

"He's gone Tele.."

He responded. His voice sounded tired and yet monotone. Not even facing his son

It was clear onto who "he" was, Telemachus knew about Argos' sickness but they didn't know it was getting towards deathbed levels of bad..

Telemachus, no words exchanged at all, hugged his sad dad tightly..

Odysseus continued to stare at the dog's grave as he wept in his son's arms

[midnight--sadness]

Inspired by the gihussy poll (specifically the part about the salesman): AU after the first season where, after getting a taste of that gihussy prior to the games, the Salesman starts stalking Gi-hun. In-ho takes on the role of a detective named Young-il just so he can get closer to Gi-hun bc he might've become a bit obsessed, so he's just there investigating Gi-hun's stalker. Also Jun-ho recognizes him immediately and calls him out on his bullshit off-stage, but for now their need for gihussy bonds them. Mr. Kim got some gihussy and said "alr your debts are repaid, I don't need no money" and now Gi-hun has a bodyguard along with a small personal army 🫶🏾

Gi-hun's just over here still mourning the loss of his best friend husband wannabe/victim of obsesso expresso, adopted daughter homeless girl he picked off the streets, sweet boi rip marbles maximus, and old man murderous grandpa.

Additionally starring Jung-bae as the best friend is so done with all of this and also WHY DOES YOUNG-IL + OTHER MEMBERS OF GI-HUN'S HAREM KEEP GLARING AT HIM??????? WHY IS HE GETTING DEATH THREATS FROM SOME RANDOM PERSON FOR BEING AROUND GI-HUN????????

We'll just call this Gi-hun Gets Stalked Part 1 (Ft. Jung-bae, the king of getting threatened by hot hostile men who simp for his best friend) Nvm that's too long a title If you want to, please come up with a better one 🙏🏾 /nf I think I need to lay off the Fanta, it's making me go wild with ideas Also btw I'm currently typing out my response to the troy au ask I sent on Friday, my wifi's been so kooky lately for some reason, I'm sorry 💔

-🦆

"MARBLES MAXIMUS" IS FOUL 💀💀💀💀 (do it again)

pls take your time!! i don't mind waiting 💖💖 and this idea is so peak 😩

the gihussy bringing all of these men together 🙏 world peace loving queen!

poor jungbae is always catching strays but i can see the harem all trying to get on his good side with the logic that if jungbae likes them, then so will gihun?

inho is useless, he can't get past jungbae's friendship with gihun, and neither can the salesman. way too possessive for his own good. mr. kim has a chance but jungbae remembers that this man was gonna steal gihun's kidneys and eyes so he does NOT fuck with him. junho is the one who wins this round bc he's the most normal out of them all.

gihun is mourning and they are all like "do u need a hug? :("

now, for the name of the au, i have no idea 😭😭😭 i'm drawing a blank, im sorry

[aajjks]

can you write about tc yn leaving without telling jungkook so he thinks she’s ran away only for her to come back with an anniversary present?

“WHERE IS MY WIFE? IT’S BEEN HOURS.” Jungkook screams at the top of his lungs as he pushes the book rack aside, the servants cower in fear.

“FUCKING FIND HER IMMEDIATELY!” you are dead meat as soon as he finds you, Jungkook growls, eyes darkening with anger and desperation.

When you’re not near him, he can’t breathe, but do you care? No, you don’t.

He feels like he’s being suffocated right now, despite being in control, why did you leave him again? He thought everything was going great. You guys got married. It’s been magical.

He’s been a good guy to you. He hasn’t been crazy. He hasn’t hurt people, he hasn’t pressured you into having a child.

he has been a good husband to you so why did you leave him? Why did you betray him yet again? He hasn’t eaten anything in the past four hours since you’ve been gone.

“Y-Your majesty please calm down please you need to eat something. I’ll find her. I swear I will find the queen- SHUT UP YOU’RE USELESS AND NOW YOU’RE GONNA DIE BECAUSE I WILL BEHEAD YOU!” Jungkook, he cuts off the in charge of the search party that he had arranged in order to find you, Jungkook takes out his sword from his belt and points it at him

“say goodbye to everyone because you’re gonna end up in hell.” The servants want to scream in fear, but they know better than to do that because if they piss off their king, they’re all gonna die and it’s gonna be a bloodbath.

All of them watch in horror as he begins to tilt his sword in order to behead the older man, the man cries and begging for mercy, but your crazy husband doesn’t care

“Jungkook? What the fuck is going on here?”

Is he hallucinating or was that really your voice? His grip on the sword losens and he looks in front of him and there you are.

“Y-Yn where the fuck were you a lot of these people were going to die because they couldn’t find you and you escaped me? I WAS A GREAT HUSBAND TO YOU AND THIS IS WHAT I GET IN RETURN?” he begins to scream at you towering over at you immediately.

“EVERYONE GET OUT IMMEDIATELY.”

And all of them vanish, “you better have a reasonable explanation for your disappearance or I’m gonna punish you.”

The truth is that he wants to do nothing more than to cry in your embrace and hug you like it’s the last day on earth.

But he needs to be strong right now and punish you.

“I. I went to buy an anniversary present for you. I bet you don’t even remember our anniversary tomorrow.” You roll your eyes at your husband because he’s so overdramatic.

jungkooks eyes widen. “of course I remember our anniversary and I had the biggest surprise for you but then you had to escape and then I got crazy.”

“you better got me something good OK or I’m gonna be mad. SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT FOR ME.”

[loverboykirstein]

for any of you who care or would like to come along a little journey with me… here is a sleepless ramble/rant 🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️ for those who don’t, just know i’ll be back soon 🤍

tw: surgery, talks of fertility (afab), mental health

ok so. i PROMISE to be more active here soon!! i have SO. MANY. WIPS. that i want to get out. and i’m drowning in ideas for my sam x f!reader long fic.

i’m a couple days post-op from a double cystsectomy, scar tissue removal from my LAST cystectomy, and also involved 6 biopsies and a contrast test on my ✨tubes✨.

this dr has been quite the nightmare to work with, and i have been fighting to get through this and find a different dr. at first i was misdiagnosed with endometriosis (which had never come up once before) and i was thrown on meds. well, those threw me into a horrendous manic episode that scared the hell out of me.

they then tried to double me up on birth control despite having a hormonal IUD (my body has rejected every form of oral birth control there is) and got upset that my insurance denied it.

i had my boyfriend come with me to my pre-op, and the dr (male btw) completely changed his demeanor, and when my boyfriend (pro choice king btw) was like ok what are next steps the dr just kept talking about conceiving. like. no !!!!

come to surgery. both cysts are well over 10-15cm in diameter. i have no sign of endometriosis. the dr did the contrast TWICE (still pissing out contrast fluid 3 days later) and found that my tubes ain’t working. like at all.

AND HE TOOK MY IUD OUT.

and the dr. will still. not. take. my. request. for. hysterectomy. seriously.

it is so incredibly defeating to try and try and try to fix things and try and be better after years of not wanting to bother with anything.

so that has been quite a struggle. plus the $1500+ in medical bills POST insurance between surgery, the initial visit that found these cysts, and the useless appointments between. which is the same amount we pay for for RENT.

anyways. on top of that. i also have been newly diagnosed, after years of a previous mental diagnosis that lead drs to drop me as a patient. my psychiatrist is a WONDERFUL woman, and has found medications that work wonders for me. but i am struggling a lot with a new diagnosis for something i had never even heard of before.

i’m also really struggling with being out of work for three weeks, one of which is being gifted to me by my boss bc i don’t have enough time accrued and i can’t afford to take a whole week of fmla. but. since i graduated college, i’ve had a really hard time figuring out how to not be a student. and i’ve made work my biggest trait, given i fell into an incredibly important position within my place of work, in which i am totally under qualified for.

but. sitting here for the next two and a half weeks is going to drive me INSANE. so i am going to try and write, try and start some new projects maybe, who knows.

i also don’t know what to expect now that i don’t have some form of birth control for the first time in ten years.

ANYWAYS.

to those of you who have stuck with me during this super turbulent period and aren’t upset with my lack of writing i am sending you the biggest of hugs, and i hope that you have the coziest sleep and know that my kitties love you so so much (not as much as me though)

OK ANYWAYS BY LOVE YOU MWUAH MWUAH

[whumplump]

Content: vampire whump; unsuccessful suicide attempt; sunburn; aggression; blood; biting; swear words.

Word count: 1.5k words

The Angel King, chapter 1

Siege hesitated. He looked back at his brother's face. He looked ahead, at the door. He shot across the wooden floor until he left the house. His bare feet touched the grassy ground, damp with dew. He ran. He crossed the clearing until he reached the open plain. He couldn't hear the angry screams of his younger brother, who was trying to catch up with him right behind. He just wanted to escape. He didn't want to be a vampire. He was afraid of blood. One day, he hurt his face with his father's razor blade and fainted when he saw the blood running down his chin in the mirror. His older brothers made fun of him. The other day, they took him to the animal slaughterhouse to see the work. Siege was a child at the time. He cried, screamed, begged for his mother. He was booed, humiliated, like the fearful man he felt. He wanted to escape those memories. He was afraid of everything. Of the cold, the heat, the dark, the blood. How would he survive being a creature with a cold body, an unmoving heart, that only walks at night and feeds on blood? He preferred death. That's why he was running.

On the plain, he walked a long distance and fell to his knees on the grass. He saw the sun rise over the horizon. The star-king appeared, releasing its powerful rays across the entire plain. The sunlight soon reached Siege, who screamed in agony, feeling his skin burn and peel with condemnation. At that moment, Zaphir caught up with him. He pulled him by the arms, trying to get his brother to get up so they could run away, but Siege resisted. They both screamed in pain from the burns. Zaphir dragged his brother by force, desperate. If they didn't get out of the light now, they would die.

Siege, against his will, relented. Something in his instinct, which was now growing compulsively, told him to get out of there. And quick. It was greater than his desire to die. He got up and ran with Zaphir back into the house.

Zaphir slammed the door. The two brothers collapsed on the floor, covered in burns. A smell of burning flesh hung in the air. Siege curled up on the floor and broke down in tears.

Zaphir staggered to his feet and walked to a basin of water. He placed his arms in the water, feeling the painful sting of the wounds. He screamed in pain. He grabbed a handful of water and rubbed it on the side of his face that was burned. With care, the pain went away. The dead, burned skin detached from the rest of the body like shavings of coal, which turned into smoke as they fell useless into the water.

After he finished, Zaphir poured the water from the basin over his brother's shaking body. Siege coughed, choked and surprised. He felt the same pain as Zaphir: that of dead skin giving way to new cells. Zaphir roughly released the empty basin, letting it crash to the floor. Siege didn't get up, even when the pain was gone. He was still processing his new condition, imposed from now on.

“Do you think about what was proposed to you, brother?”

Siege glared at Zaphir over his shoulder. He continued crying. Zaphir knelt on the floor and hugged his brother.

“Tomorrow, I'll take you to see the city. You are confused now, but you will see our power. And you will love it.”

Siege woke up to a thump on the bed. Looking out the window, he realized it was night. Zaphir was kneeling beside him. They were both better dressed, no longer wearing the burnt clothes they had before. Now their bodies were covered in hazelnut-colored flannel fabrics.

"Did I sleep all day?" Siege asked.

"Yes. Me too. The necessary sleep. Now, get up and get ready."

"Where will we go?"

"To the capital, damn it. I told you I'd show you the city. Let's go."

"What do you want there?"

Zaphir didn't respond. He walked to a small mirror and stopped.

“First, come here," he called.

Siege got up and stood next to his brother in front of the mirror. He shook his head in disbelief. He knew that he himself was staring at the glass and that Zaphir was at his side. In the reflection, however, there was no one. No one. He was saddened.

Zaphir turned to his brother and looked at him proudly with a wide smile on his face. Siege didn't look back at him. Zaphir patted his brother on the back twice and left the mirror. He ran his hand through his long, straight brown hair, putting it back. He opened the door for his brother and waited for Siege to come through the opening, then left shortly after.

The capital is more populated at night than during the day. Torches on tall stone posts hold lights for the festivities. Music, dance, food. Cheerful gentlemen dance with perfumed ladies. Ownerless dogs are fed by charitable people.

Much joy. Little did those people know the danger posed by two ordinary-looking men, apparently peasants. Soon, the capital would be empty at night.

Siege watched the streets in fascination. Like his other five older brothers, he was born in the countryside, in the village. His parents were traveling when his mother was pregnant with her seventh and last child, Zaphir. His parents went to collect the rest of their children while the youngest boy was raised in the capital for a few years. Zaphir remembers a few things, mainly how pretty the fire lights on the ornate pillars were. He always wanted to share his fascination with the brother he was closest to, Siege.

Zaphir pointed to the decorations in the taverns, stalls and shops with his other arm around Siege's shoulders. The older brother looked happy. They stopped at a tavern and bought meat skewers and beers. They should take advantage while they can still consume human food, before the emptiness of their stomachs can be filled only with blood. They ate while talking, remembering moments with their family. They were alone in the world now, just the two of them, but they weren't sad.

“Hey!” A large, strong man grabbed Siege and Zaphir by the arms. “I already said that I don't want hillbillies in my bar!”

“Hillbillies?!” Zaphir replied, irritated. As answer, the man pulled the two brothers upwards, forcing them to stand up.

“Get out!”

Zaphir was becoming increasingly irritated by the tall man's attitude.

“Stop now, and I'll let you live…”

“Let's go, Zaph” hurried Siege, in a pleading tone.

Before Zaphir could protest, the bar owner grabbed the two peasants and roughly pushed them, until they were thrown out of the tavern. Zaphir grunted in annoyance.

“Leave it alone”, Siege suggested.

“No fucking way! He won't do it again.”

Siege saw Zaphir turn into shadow and walk with heavy steps towards the back of the tavern. He didn't follow, as he had managed to keep his meat skewer in his hand and wanted to finish eating. He sat on the floor and took generous bites of the meat.

After finishing, he reflected. What would his life be like from now on? Fear returned to his mind. He was also a little angry with the rude man from before, but he was afraid to act out. Unlike Zaphir, who was fearless and didn't take shit home.

Zaphir.

Siege stopped at the opening of the side hallway that led to the back of the bar. The darkness made that passage uninviting.

“Zaph?”

For a moment, no one responded. Suddenly, Siege got startled by the loud noise of something heavy falling to the ground. He started to shake.

“...Zaph?”

"I'm here”, the vampire's voice called.

Slowly, Siege crossed the alley until he reached the back. Zaphir was there, prostrate over the dead body of the bar owner. Siege put his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. Zaphir lifted his face from the dead man's jugular, his bloody mouth and vampiric fangs bared. He walked up to Siege who, in shock, had no time to react.

Within seconds, Zaphir had forced Siege to kneel and was insistently pushing his brother's head towards the corpse's neck, which was displaying fresh blood.

“N-No! I don't want to! Stop! P-Please, no!”

The tip of Siege's nose touched the pool of blood on the floor. The sweet, tempting scent of blood filled the vampire's nostrils until it made him dizzy. He stopped screaming, but he was still stiff.

“Drink it. Drink or you will die. I know you want this”, Zaphir persuaded.

Siege stared at the blood on the floor and at the dead man's mangled neck with wide eyes. Yes, that's what he wanted. He had just eaten, but he still felt hungry. It was what he needed. The blood. Blood. Blood.

He pushed Zaphir back and sank his head into the bloody jugular, feasting on the precious, invigorating liquid.

Zaphir wiped his mouth with his sleeve and watched Siege feed, satisfied.

[linabirb]

Deep Cover ENG Translyrics

*shaking* hhi so i've mentioned a few times that i actually sort of. write translyrics a-and i wrote these like. in an hour. i am not insane btw. i am so normal.

a note: we don't have an official eng translation rn and i do learn japanese and can speak it a little bit, but i am definitely not fluent, so there can be some mistakes and also these lyrics might not be the most accurate because i changed some stuff to add more rhythm (?) to the lyrics and just because i thought it sounded cool. but i still tried my best to keep it as similar to the original ones as possible!

also i do write translyrics often but i don't have that much experience with translating stuff to english so. um. pls be nice ;w;

i wish i could add a recording of me singing it to show how they're supposed to sound, but. my voice is too weak for this song djdkkd i think these should sound good though :'D

(UNDER)

Feeding off of you, don't say it's over

(UNDER)

I've achieved my goal, but it's still getting colder

It's so dumb, it's so dumb, but

My rage can't be stopped, can't be stopped!

You're so lame!

(UNDER)

The queen is here, that's the role she's playing

(UNDER)

You think a thief like you can save them?

It's so dumb, it's so dumb, but

My love can't be stopped, can't be stopped!

It's so hard!

I wonder who should I get rid of?

Oh, you're guilty? It's what you deserve

That's why I have become your fangs and claws

The hero that everyone has been waiting for

My answer? You should already know

"Stop it, please" Oh, please, I thought you wanted more

Why would you stop me now?

A mission, a motive and a goal, that's what I need

I beg you, beg you now

Please give me my next reason to live

(UNDER)

Put your mask on, king, and don't stop faking

My faith's too strong and you'll never break it

It's so dumb, it's so dumb, but

It's true, I forgot, I forgot!

I'm so bored!

(UNDER)

Your memories are lost inside this prison

(UNDER)

Wish to defeat me? How funny, what's your reason?

It's so dumb, it's so dumb, but

Let's go and knock this damn door down!

That's why you have become my reason to live

What you're waiting for, go and choose "Not forgive"

Empathy is an illusion, don't listen to it

Evil is evil and that's what you have to defeat

Why would you stop me now?

A mission, a motive and a goal, that's what I need

I beg you, beg you now

Please give me my next reason to live

(UNDER)

(UNDER)

What I'm looking for has to be correct and just

This hopeless future, I want it to be crushed

It's so dumb, it's so dumb, but

I'm the one that you can trust

That's why I have become your fangs and claws

The hero that everyone has been waiting for

My answer? You should already know

"Stop it, please" Oh, please, I thought you wanted more

Why would you stop me now?

A mission, a motive and a goal, that's what I need

I beg you, beg you now

Please give me my next reason to live (x2)

(UNDER)

Number one! A parasite, good for nothing

(UNDER)

Number two! A slut that has no shame

(UNDER)

Number four! A queen wearing a fake crown

(UNDER)

Number five! Cutting them open, failure of a savior

(UNDER)

Number seven! A liar wanting to stay hidden

(UNDER)

Number eleven! A useless prison warden

It's so dumb, it's so dumb, but

Can you stay behind, stay behind, just shut up

Translation notes:

"Feeding off of you" is a reference to Kotoko calling Haruka a parasite and "don't say it's over" is a reference to Haruka's relationship with his mother and "wanting her to hug him again as she once did".

"The queen is here, that's the role she's playing'' I really wanted to keep the "queen game" part, but I just couldn't make it sound good, so at least we have this :')

"You really think a thief like you can save them?" The original one had "stealer" but I thought "thief" sounds better in this version!

"It's true, I forgot, I forgot!" At first I wanted to keep the "can't be stopped" bit, but I just really couldn't come up with anything related to it and then I thought that Mikoto having a part that sounds different would be really cool in a way.

"Wish to defeat me? How funny, what's your reason?" Please feel free to correct me, but I genuinely don't know if Kotoko is asking Es if they want to "defeat" her or if she's talking about Es assuming that Kotoko wants to "defeat" them, it doesn't help that she also says "Laughable justice" after this, but I went with the first option.

"This hopeless future, I want it to be crushed" The original lyrics mention the "dirty future" and I. Have no idea what she means by that, so I went with this.

"Number one! A parasite, good for nothing" LISTEN, HER SAYING EVERYONE'S NUMBERS LIKE THAT SOUNDS COOL. Also, I really did want everyone's parts to rhyme, but I just couldn't come up with anything and all my ideas sounded weird, so I decided to keep it this way, sort of like Kotoko is yelling at them and really calling them out?

[levwrites]

The King's Favorite

The Knight just wants to give his report, but today his King has other plans.

A prequel scene featuring the Knight and the King from Vows.

For a while the Knight's reports have gone directly to the King. Sometimes in person. There is a specific sitting room that seems dedicated to that, or at least so the servants murmur when they think the Knight will not hear them.

He knows they love to gossip, and tolerates that behavior as long as they're not disrespectful towards his King. A single out-of-line word is always met with harsh reprimand.

Nothing scandalous ever happens in that room, in any case: the King always sits on one of the couches, and the Knight can enjoy the soft armchairs.

Until one day, the King pats the cushion next to him. "Sit here, my Knight."

The Knight stops halfway to the armchair, perplexed for a second. But it's not his job to question orders. He goes to the King and sits down next to him, leaving a few centimetres between them. Not daring to invade the King's space.

Not the most efficient way of giving a report.

The King turns a little to look at him. "I'm listening."

"Sire." The Knight imitates him. "The villa had the information we'd been looking for. I personally interrogated the owner-"

Suddenly, the King's hand is on the back of his neck. His warm calloused fingers dig in the Knight's muscles, rubbing gently. "Yes?"

The Knight trembles, words failing him. Oh. He tries to keep going, desperately struggling to maintain composure. "The owner. He told me about his work partner, a certain Decimus Tane. We believe-"

The King starts scratching his scalp, fingers getting under his hair. Mussing it up, just a little. He says nothing, just keeps looking at him with his dark, intense eyes.

The Knight shivers, waves of desperate pleasure coming off of him. He bites his lips and stops his sentence in its tracks again, afraid a helpless sound is going to come out instead.

"Go on, darling." A quiet order, low.

The pet name resonates inside his head like a bomb going off; the shiver is more violent this time. The Knight sends him a desperate look. What are you doing to me? He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to get through his report if he at least doesn't have to look at him. What's going on? An overwhelmed thought.

Little by little, the King has been drawing him in. Leaning him sideways, towards himself - and the Knight has been too focused on not melting in his arms to notice.

"...we believe the operation is using them as faces. Their business is the perfect cover." He takes another breath to keep going.

His cheek meets the King's shoulder.

The breath gets caught in his throat. His eyes open again, shocked.

The King wraps his other arm around him in a loose hug. One hand holding his nape, the other caressing his hair.

Immediately, the Knight gives up on his useless fight: he melts in his King's arms, rewarded by the King's pleased hum.

"There you go."

The Knight isn't really sure where this is going. He feels terribly unprofessional, overwhelmed, faintly shivering every few seconds.

But the King is holding him, and caresses him gently. He can't believe the King is holding him. He can't believe he is melted in his arms, on his couch, in his sitting room.

He called me darling. A faint thought.

"How are you feeling, darling?"

The Knight shivers again at hearing the pet name, helpless to do anything else. Said with that voice...

He is my King. He asked me a question.

"...I feel overwhelmed, Sire." It feels odd to call him that while leaning on his shoulder, his arms around him. "I am not... used to this." Then, more quietly. "I am enjoying it." Like he's afraid he'll be punished for it, no matter how nonsensical the thought.

Despite the nervousness, he is happy. He never let himself even think about something like this, even after the King started touching him sometimes. Now that it's happening...

The Knight stays very still, afraid he will do something wrong.

His King smiles, pleased. "I know." He keeps touching him. Keeps caressing his hair. "Can you keep telling me about your mission?" Not an order, but a polite request.

If you stop doing unexpected things, Sire, perhaps I could concentrate. No bite to the thoughts.

"Of course, Sire." The Knight supposes he can tell him everything from against his shoulder. In his arms. He doesn't quite understand how he ended up here, but he's not going to protest.

And when he's finally done despite the shivers and the gentle pleasure of being held, the King presses warm lips against his temple before finally releasing him. It's a curse and a blessing - especially since the Knight is starting to suspect this will not be a one time thing.

It's going to be the end of me.

But there is no protest in his heart. He would deny his King nothing.

[noa-de-cajou]

Various mentioned characters here belonging to @corneille-but-not-the-author , @soupedepates , @thal-ent , @hel-phoenyx and @azeler

The following text contains domestic abuse and references to suicide.

It started with a storm. Yet when I lowered the spyglass, the sun was shining high in the sky, irritating my eyes and skin. It still does as I rest my arms over the boat guardrail.

“Are you sulking, Leo?”

I glare at Kalerich. His little remarks are really starting to piss me off.

“I'm taking a break. And I'd appreciate if you didn't pollute it with unwarranted comments.”

“Well someone sure is in a bad mood.”

Maybe I wouldn’t be if this hadn't turned out to be such a disappointing turn of events. The duel started off great, Brynja got the advantage surprisingly quick, despite the storm raging on louder and louder.

Then he unleashed the Carnage. Fascinating magic, really. But that's when I knew Brynja wouldn’t make it. Even I wouldn't be able to fight this off, so how could she?

It would have been handy if she had killed Kaizarz, but it was unlikely from the start. If I could at least see the monster he really hid, what really lurks inside… If I could see with my own eyes that this oh-so benevolent monarch isn’t so benevolent after all…

But then they stepped in. The other four, those little pests, barging into a fight that wasn’t theirs to win. Domhildr and Tyrfing’s first intervention was nearly useless, but of course even Oli and Meili had to get involved.

A hug, a few words I couldn’t hear, and it was over. Just like that.

Why? Why were you so intent on bringing him back?

He threw your friend on the floor and knocked her out. He crushed Brynja’s throat. He damaged your boat. He would have killed you. He broke the hand you weakened just so he could.

You saw it.

Yet you pulled him back into his mask. Into some fake, meek version of himself. Why?

Why does he get to be pulled back into himself, why does he get forgiveness after everything he did, even though he has nothing to give?

Why does he get all of this, and I didn’t? Who stopped me when I needed it?

No one. There was no one to fight off the monster. There's no one to stay if they don’t have anything to gain or if there is no fear to keep them in place, no one.

Because I made it so no one cared.

…

Jealous, Leonova?

No. Not at all.

It's only a brief respite. The monster is bound to come back anyway.

Not everyone is like you.

Shut up. Shut up.

What infuriates me too is how they still healed Brynja after she hurt their king, after she stabbed him in the back, after she almost doomed them all. And how they didn't let me get her. I could have healed her. I could have healed her throat. But she didn’t looked like she wanted it.

… That, I can understand. I've seen what the sirens do. Even I wouldn't stoop that low.

But what’s the point of being free if it's to end up like this? Voiceless? Powerless?

I already know that she won’t come back to me. Not even for protection. She’ll go back to the Kraken Coast and I'll be left with nothing gained from this.

All those years on my ship, and I didn't even get to say goodbye.

That doesn’t matter. She was a tool. An asset. You would have gotten rid of her, eventually.

Right.

You won’t miss her, will you?

No. That’s fine. No one stays, anyway.

It didn't mean anything.

Rescuing Brynja didn't mean anything.

Losing against Tyrfing didn’t mean anything.

Sleeping with Domhildr didn’t mean anything.

Dancing with Oli didn't mean anything.

None of it matters, none of it.

Ungrateful. All of them.

My eyes hurt.

“I’m going back to my cabin.”

I start to walk away, Kalerich grabs my wrist. Gods, what now?

“I can see you're sad, Leo, don’t just walk away. There's no point in trying to hide it from me.”

Stop. Stop it. I’m not sad. I am not. I’m angry, and pissed, and frustrated, I'm certainly not sad.

“Let go of me, Kal.”

“Leo-”

Stop. Stop pretending you care. You wouldn't even stay with me if I didn't force you to. And you never stopped me from doing what I do. You have no right to look at me this way.

I tear myself away from his grip and start walking down to the inside of the ship. I hear his footsteps behind me.

Why won’t you give up

He grabs me by the sleeve.

Why aren’t you

“Leo, please, could you just-”

Gone

“I said let go of me!!”

My hand flies.

I blink and there’s four scratches across his cheek. Blood trickles down his face. His eyes have widened a little.

Who hurt him? Who dared?

I did.

No. No. No. He’s my brother. He’s all I have left. I can’t… I shouldn't… I would never…

I can feel his blood under my nails.

“Kal… Kal, I’m…”

Are you happy now?

There's no way he’ll stay after this.

No, no, this isn’t what I want, it isn’t-

I try to wipe the blood away. He grimaces. He’s in pain. I hurt him.

You hurt him.

Again.

“I’m… I'm sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I'm sorry- ”

You keep messing up.

You’re not careful enough. You weren’t careful with Misha either.

Kalerich wouldn't leave me. Not like that.

You didn't think she'd do it either, did you? How many times have you checked his room for a rope under the bed?

If you keep this up, the noose will tighten around his neck too.

And you'll be truly alone.

There's tears on my face.

“I’m sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-”

“Leonova.”

He gently takes my hand and pulls me towards him, wraps his arms around me.

“It's fine. I’m all good. It’s nothing. You’re just upset. You didn't do it on purpose.”

… He’s right. I didn’t mean it.

“Don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere.”

I hug him back. Right. He's not leaving. Because we're siblings and siblings stick around for each other.

Which is why you need to bring her back and fix your mistake.

Kalerich holds me wordlessly for several minutes before letting me go.

“When do you want to leave, Leo?”

“... Tomorrow. I’m sick of this place.”

“Okay. You go rest. I’ll go tell the crew.”

“... Kal?”

“Yes?”

“You're not going to leave me. Right?”

“No. Never.”

He smiles at me.

Isn’t that smile a bit cramped?

Must be my imagination.

“Until death do us part, right?”

Yes. Until death do us part. Only then will we be free of each other.

The mere idea terrifies me.

He lets me go.

“Go lay down. I'll be right back.”

He walks back out, and I get to bed. It’s fine. I'm just tired. Maybe I've overexerted myself. It's not worth getting worked up about a bunch of strangers, is it?

History may sing their names, but I won't. They're not worth remembering.

The only names you need to remember are theirs. Your mother. Your sister. Your family.

I think about Domhildr. About the customs so dear to her. I remember the nursery rhyme some of the fairy sailors would sing. To remember the dead. Always remember the dead.

But I don't want to remember.

I want them back.

Screw those nursery rhymes. Screw their stupid passiveness.

I’ll overcome that death you’re so afraid of.

In the meantime, I need to forget you. All of you. And your stupid faces.

...

I hope I can.

[sisterspooky1013]

Parallel, Chapter 6/6

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

She wakes with an arid gasp, shooting upright and scanning her surroundings in a panic. It’s dark, and she reaches blindly across the bed for Mulder to find that he isn’t there.

There’s no sunset, no window, no California king size bed. As seconds pass and her hammering heart slows enough for her thoughts to organize themselves, she realizes that she’s back in Georgetown. The bedside clock reads just past 3:00 am, and she scrambles for her watch to confirm the date. Fewer than five hours have passed since she got into bed.

She picks up the phone and begins to dial Mulder’s number, but hangs up before it has a chance to ring. She doesn’t just need to hear his voice, she needs to see him, to smell him, to know that he’s the right one. That he is hers.

She takes all of five minutes to change her clothes and brush her teeth, forgoing any attempt to look halfway decent. Not that it should matter what she looks like; he’s seen her at her objective worst. He’s seen her exhausted, and dirty, and on the brink of death, and he still looks at her with so much wonder, so much admiration it makes her uncomfortable, because she feels so undeserving of it. She walks out the door in jeans and an oversized sweater, her hair combed but her face bare, and her heart pinned to her sleeve.

Her mind is oddly blank as she drives to his apartment, ascends the elevator, and knocks on his door. She’s operating on instinct, allowing her emotions to lead for once instead of stuffing them down. Allowing the ache in her chest to seek resolution instead of ignoring it. He doesn’t answer and she knocks again, more urgently this time, afraid that she might lose her nerve.

He opens the door and squints at the lights in the hallway. He’s wearing flannel pajama pants but no shirt, and his hair is entirely flat on one side. His rumpled, boyish appearance is disarming and endearing all at once.

“Scully?” he asks groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Did something happen?”

She steps forward and wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her nose into his chest so she can breathe him in deep. A feeling of calm washes over her and she sighs with relief. This is him. This is the right one. Her Mulder.

“You okay?” he asks, returning her hug. “Scully, it’s 3:00 am,” he adds with an edge of surprise.

“I’m okay,” she says, her voice muffled against his skin. “I just had a bizarre dream and I needed to know that you were here.”

“Here at my apartment?” he asks, pulling away a little. She nods, not quite ready to explain it. Not quite sure how. “You could’ve called me,” he points out, and for the first time since leaving her apartment she feels embarrassed and afraid of what he’ll think of her.

“I know,” she says, avoiding his eyes. “But the nature of this dream was—I don’t think I would have felt sure it was really you just from a phone call.”

She can feel his interest piquing, and she wishes she’d been more vague. Most people find discussion of other people’s dreams intolerably boring, but Mulder isn’t most people.

“Come sit down,” he says, gently steering her towards the living room. “I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

“It’s 3:00 am, Mulder,” she objects, though she knows it’s useless.

He brings her a cup of coffee in what he must have gathered is her favorite mug among his collection. It’s tall and narrow, bearing the faded logo of a long-since closed diner they used to frequent in the days before she started sleeping with her weapon in her bedside drawer. It has just the right amount of cream and sugar, and she tries to remember when and how he perfected that. He never asked, just observed, like he’s observing her now. Watching her bring the mug to her lips and blow the steam away, take a sip and then lower it back to her lap. Three, four, five times he watches her do this, saying nothing. She feels the weight of his attention and for once she lets it sit, lets herself become acclimated to it instead of distracting it away.

“Was it a nightmare?” he says suddenly, and she lifts her eyes to find that his are on her, his elbow propped on the back of the couch and his head resting on his fist.

Her memory flashes on him wrapped around her in the shower, and then his hand gently kneading her breast, and she feels her cheeks warm.

“No,” she says. “Not a nightmare.”

“What was it, then? Not a nightmare, but strange enough to send you across town at 3:00 am? I’ll admit that I’m intrigued,” he says, setting his cup on the coffee table.

She looks down at her lap, running her thumb along the rim of her mug nervously. Her thumbnail is tattered, her manicure ruined, and she frowns as she examines the other hand to find it similarly defaced.

“I think—” she begins, preemptively embarrassed. “I think that maybe our conversation influenced it. In fact, I’m positive that it did.”

“Our conversation?” he asks, oblivious. Leave it to Mulder to have no recollection of an extensive discussion on alternate universes.

“Albert Homnell’s theories on alternate dimensions?” she reminds him, and in her periphery she sees him nod.

“That’s interesting dream fodder,” he says, taking a drink before returning his mug to the coffee table. “What’d your subconscious cook up?”

She steals a glance at him. He still has that unkempt, unguarded, fresh-from-sleep look about him. His cheeks are dark with stubble and his already hooded eyes are drooping. Knowing him, he likely only went to bed a couple hours ago.

“It’s not important, Mulder. I should go so we can both get some sleep,” she says, moving to stand. The weight of his hand on her forearm stills her.

“C’mon, Scully. You’re already here, and now you’ve got me curious,” he gently chides her, and she acquiesces with a sigh.

“It’s, uh…it’s a bit awkward,” she prefaces, setting her mug on the table beside his so she can wring her hands instead.

“If you were hoping that would dissuade my curiosity, you should know that it has the opposite effect,” he says with a smile in his voice, and despite herself she smiles as well.

“I dreamt that…we were together,” she says quickly, her eyes darting between his face and the wall behind the couch. His eyebrows lift, but he otherwise gives no reaction.

“Together?” he repeats.

“Married, actually,” she says, then sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. It feels like the hardest part is out of the way.

“Married?” Mulder repeats again, his eyebrows sailing higher.

“Mmm hmm,” Scully says with a clipped nod.

“Okay,” he says, studying her closely. She can only look at him for milliseconds before she has to look away. Each time he manages to catch her eye, her stomach does backflips at the memory of his mouth on hers and…everything else. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I don’t think a dream about us being married would make you drive over here in the middle of the night to confirm my existence, so I’m wondering what else happened. There was more, right?”

He’s not being argumentative, and he does have a point.

“Well, it was sort of…it was like an entirely different world,” she attempts to explain. “We lived on the West Coast, and California was part of Canada, and my sister was there, and so was—”

“California was part of Canada?” he interrupts.

She stops and looks at his face. She was about to tell him about Sam, but that very well might just hurt him.

“Yes,” she confirms, but doesn’t elaborate. The more she tells him, the more he’ll want to know, and talking about it makes it feel real again. All of it. She shifts in her seat. “It was very vivid, and a bit disconcerting. So when I finally woke up back at my apartment, I just felt the need to be sure that I am me and you are you, if you will.”

“Was your dream version of me not your dream version of me?” he asks playfully, though she detects a hint of nervousness underneath.

She thinks about the other Mulder for a moment. Tanned, just slightly less serious, unburdened by a lifetime of tragedy. It feels like a betrayal to even entertain the idea that he might be a “better” version of the Mulder sitting right in front of her.

“He was great,” she says sincerely, “but he wasn’t you.”

Something like surprise flashes across his face, and then his eyes narrow just slightly.

“Married, huh?” he asks, and something about the tenor of his voice betrays what he’s thinking. Scully swallows nervously. “How sure are you that it was just a dream?”

Scully balks.

“What else would it be?”

Mulder shrugs, but the look on his face tells her that he’s prepared to defend his theory and she doesn’t quite feel up for that, not after what she’s just been through. And if it was real, what would that mean? For her and the version of herself who is married to Malibu Mulder.

She looks at her lap again, unsure where to go from here. She’d had such clarity back at her apartment, when she could still feel his kiss tingling on her lips. Now, it really does feel like just a dream, fading away into her memories with each passing moment. She notices her thumbnails again and runs the pads of her index fingers over their jagged edges as she tries to recall what happened to them.

So what do you say? Are we finally gonna hit that ghost tour on the way back?

She looks up at him and is momentarily surprised not to see a tanned, shaggy-haired man on the couch beside her.

“I don’t think it matters, Mulder,” she says, and he cocks his head at her. “Regardless of what it was, I think…I think it was an answer of sorts.”

“An answer to what?”

He no longer looks sleepy. His eyes are alert and focused, jumping around her face as he waits for her to speak. There’s so much expectation there, so much interest, and the stakes feel so impossibly high.

“Why did you kiss me on New Year’s Eve?” she blurts out, which is partly deflection but still very much on topic.

Mulder gapes at her, completely caught off guard, and sits up straighter.

“Where did that come from?” he asks uncomfortably, reaching for his mug only to find it empty. “I guess it seemed like the thing to do at the moment. Did it bother you?”

The fact that he seems genuinely concerned that she might be upset about it is almost funny, if not for the fact that they have been stuck in this confusing limbo for what is starting to feel like an eternity.

“No, Mulder, it didn’t bother me,” she says with a slight laugh and a shake of her head.

“Okay. Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

There’s a heavy pause and someone slams a door in the hallway. He answered her question, but at the same time he didn’t answer it at all. He didn’t say what she needed him to say, which was that he kissed her because he wanted to. If he would just give her that, she might feel brave enough to take them the rest of the way.

In her effort to look anywhere but his face, her eyes fall to the scar on his shoulder. She scoots closer and reaches out to touch it, and Mulder follows her hand with his eyes as she brushes the pad of her middle finger across the smooth pink flesh. Without thinking, she leans forward and presses her lips to it, laying her hand on his chest for stability. Beneath her palm, his heart is hammering so hard she has to resist the urge to count out his pulse rate.

I love you, she mouths against his skin.

When she lifts her head to look at him, there’s an incredibly pained expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand still resting on his chest, fingers splayed.

“In your dream—” he begins, then clears his throat. “Were we happy?”

“Together?” she asks, and he nods. “Yes,” she says with a soft smile, remembering how easy it felt to just let him love her.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” he asks, and now it is she who nods.

It feels as though they could fall down this rabbit hole forever, continuously ignoring the fact that they never seem to arrive anywhere.

“I wonder why you haven’t kissed me again,” she says quietly, and immediately her blood runs cold. Despite a hundred different death-defying situations she’s found herself in, this feels like the most terrifying yet.

“I wonder if you’d want me to,” he says back, and again his heart is thumping against her palm, giving him away. For some reason knowing that he is also afraid makes her feel brave.

“I would, Mulder.”

He sighs, and the warmth of his coffee breath against her cheeks is so familiar she barely hesitates at all before arching up to kiss him. He initially receives her kiss with surprise, but before she can pull away his hands are on her jaw and he’s kissing her back in earnest.

With her eyes closed, muscle memory takes over. It’s not that she’s pretending he’s Malibu Mulder, but that when she was kissing Malibu Mulder she was pretending he was her Mulder. And so kissing him, sliding her tongue across his, letting him pull her closer, all feel like things they’ve done before.

But where Malibu Mulder had the practiced, comfortable demeanor of a man kissing his wife, her Mulder has the nervous, adrenaline-fueled energy of a man kissing his partner for the very first time beyond a peck in a hospital waiting room. And his nervous energy combined with her own un-sated desires from just hours prior put them on a fast track from kissing, to making out, to him pulling her into his lap and grinding his erection against the seam of her jeans.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles against her mouth as his hands slip under her sweater.

“Uh-huh,” she assures him, moving her hips in tight circles when she finds just the right press of his erection against her clit.

Both his hands find her breasts, gently kneading and brushing his thumbs across her nipples. She’s fairly certain that if they keep this up she’s going to have an orgasm fully clothed in his lap. She’s fairly certain that she intends to do just that.

“Mulder,” she whispers, high and needy, and he groans.

Does he know? She wants him to know. Somehow, she thinks it won’t feel as good if he doesn’t. She brings her lips to his ear, circling her hips while he continues to gently pinch her nipples in the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

“Wait, stop stop stop,” he says suddenly, pulling his hands out from under her sweater and stilling her hips. Her orgasm slips away, and the stark reality of what they are doing quickly settles in. She immediately feels ashamed and moves to get off him, but again he grabs her by the hips to stop her. “No, don’t go,” he begs. “I just…I need a minute.”

“We can stop if you want to stop,” she says, not looking at his face.

“Scully,” he says sternly, then waits until she looks at him. “I do not want to stop. Do you want to stop?” She shakes her head. “Great, then we’re on the same page. I just—this is a little embarrassing but I just didn’t want to make a mess, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh,” she says with a nervous laugh. The idea that he may have also been on the brink of an orgasm sets off a fresh wave of arousal.

“I don’t want to stop,” he says again, “but I do want to be sure that this isn’t…I don’t know, too fast? Too much too soon? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later.”

Scully lets out a blustering sigh.

“You’re probably right,” she says.

“So what should we do?” he asks, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I think I should go?” she says, uncharacteristically lifting the end of her statement into a pseudo-question.

“Yeah,” Mulder agrees reluctantly.

She awkwardly removes herself from his lap, quickly averting her eyes when she sees that he is still very much erect. She walks to his front door on unsteady legs and he trails a few steps behind her. When her hand is on the knob, she turns around and looks up at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course,” he answers.

Seconds tick by. Her hand is still resting on the door knob behind her back, but she doesn’t turn it.

“Goodnight, then,” she says, still unmoving.

“Goodnight.”

She turns the knob and the latch pops open, allowing a sliver of light in from the hallway. Still, she just looks at Mulder. He stares back at her, his bare chest rising and falling at a labored clip. He takes one step forward and she reflexively lifts her chin, her mouth falling partly open.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you goodnight?” he asks, and she’s already nodding emphatically before the final word leaves his mouth.

The first kiss is chaste. The second is lingering. On the third, she swipes her tongue across his bottom lip and he hums. The fourth, his hands are on her waist and the door slams closed when he presses her against it with his body. The height difference is awkward, but they are beyond motivated to compensate for it, and he alternately stoops a bit and lifts her off the ground while her calves ache from standing on her tiptoes. His stubble scrapes her chin and his eager teeth pinch her lip painfully, but she’s never been so happy to be so uncomfortable.

When he straightens up she feels the brush of his groin against her belly. The throbbing between her legs is nearly unbearable, and she knows she is past the point of self-control. If Mulder doesn’t stop this, she won’t either. She slips her fingers under the waist of his cotton pajama pants and he heaves a shuddering breath.

“What are you doing?” he asks tightly.

“Tell me to stop,” she whispers around desperate kisses.

“Fuck, I don’t want to,” he groans.

Her hand slides lower until she feels the tickle of his pubic hair against the tips of her fingers. He’s breathing so hard he’s pulling the air right from her mouth as they attempt to keep kissing, making her feel light-headed. His hands move from her hips to her ass cheeks, the grip of his fingers desperate and feral, and she is completely incapable of rational thought. She wraps her hand around his shaft, smooth and thick and warm, and his knees warble before he steadies himself with one hand against the door.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he hisses.

“I don’t want to go,” she whimpers, giving him one firm stroke.

His hands are back on her ass, kneading and pulling her pelvis against him, which makes her bump up against her own hand. He starts tugging at the waist of her jeans, fumbling with the button, then the zipper, and before she really registers what’s happening he’s wedging his hand under the stiff denim with his palm pressed against her belly. There’s no room for him to move, but she feels the brush of his fingers across her clit and an involuntary moan bubbles up from the back of her throat. Mulder’s forehead drops against the door with a loud thunk.

They stay frozen like that for a few seconds, with her hand wrapped around his cock and his fingers resting over her slick lips.

“I want you,” he breathes into her ear. The heat of his breath makes her quiver under his fingers and he groans.

“Then take me to bed,” she says, feeling bold beyond what she thought herself capable of.

He doesn’t need any time to contemplate her proposition. He withdraws his hand and she withdraws hers, and he scoops her up and carries her to his bedroom with a level of urgency befitting the situation. The room is dark save for what leaks in from the living room or around the blinds, and he sets her carefully on the floor before divesting her of her sweater. She pushes his pajama pants off his hips but they get caught on his erection, which makes her laugh. The shine of his smile in the dim room sets her at ease, and they slow down a bit. As much as they both want this, there’s no need to rush.

He lays her down on the bed and peels her jeans from her legs, leaving her panties on while he kisses the insides of her thighs. She knows that the second he touches her she’s going to come, and she’s as excited as she is nervous. He kisses as far as the seam of her leg, pulling in a deep breath through his nose that makes her self-conscious. Then he kisses her right over her panties, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through her pelvis.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

“Is this okay?” he asks, brushing his nose back and forth across her clit.

She feels herself unraveling. She’s too far gone to stop it.

“Oh my god,” she says again.

Her hips arch up off the bed and he presses his face between her legs as an orgasm tears through her, powerful and overwhelming. She cries out, completely unable to contain it, and she feels the wet heat of his mouth directly on her pussy as she comes and comes and comes. When the height of it has passed, she looks down and sees her panties pulled to the side, and Mulder’s face buried between her thighs, eyes closed in concentration. As she slowly comes down, she feels surprised and a little embarrassed.

Mulder crawls up to the bed beside her and kisses her neck while she catches her breath.

“That was…unexpected,” she finally says, feeling her cheeks warm.

“Was it okay?” he asks nervously.

“Yes, very much so,” she reassures him. “Just not the standard order of operations, I suppose.”

Mulder chuckles a little.

“Well, you know I’m never one to do things by the book,” he says lightly, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“That quality about you typically annoys me, but I find myself willing to make an exception,” she quips.

He starts dropping little kisses to the side of her neck, and despite her recent release she clenches her thighs together, ready for more. She rolls to her side and finds his lips, and they just lie there and kiss for a while, completely nude save for her panties. Her hand wanders down the firm planes of his back, over his hip, and finally back to his cock, which is stiff to the point of leaking. His breathing shudders and his muscles tense as she strokes him languidly.

“I think it’s only fair that you don’t judge me for my unimpressive stamina at this point,” he says, drawing the end of the sentence out with a low moan.

“I would never,” she says, greedy to see and feel him lose control in the same way he’s seen her.

Releasing him, she wriggles out of her panties and kicks them away, then gently pushes on his shoulder. Rolling him to his back, she slowly climbs on top of him. She still feels nervous, even after what they’ve already done. She settles over his lap, sitting directly atop his shaft such that it brushes across her clit when she shifts her hips forward and back. Immediately she knows that she’ll come again if she keeps it up, and it feels embarrassing for reasons she couldn’t possibly explain. It’s like her body is telling all her secrets to his, revealing just how much she’s wanted this and for how long.

His body answers by gripping her hips to hold her steady and grinding against her. She’s folded in half, her forehead resting against his, and her mouth hanging open in overwhelm.

“Oh my god,” she breathes into his face, and he has clearly already intuited what that means for her.

“Come on,” he says softly, rutting up into her.

She lifts her hips and reaches down between them, taking hold of him and guiding him inside her. There’s a stretch, a sting, and then overwhelming pleasure. She loses herself again, sitting up and planting her hands on his chest for stability as she rides him roughly.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck,” he hisses.

His shoulders lift off the mattress, his hands still planted on her hips. She’s right there, right there on the edge, and when he starts throbbing inside her she is gone, gone, gone.

Later, she’ll blush when she thinks about how loud she was, how brazen. How greedily she continued to fuck him until he was too soft to continue. How he flipped her to her back and slipped two fingers inside her, making her come again. But in the moment, all she knows is that she has never felt so good in her life, so safe. He touches her like he’s done it a hundred times, like he knows just what she needs. And when she finally becomes over sensitive and pushes his hand away, he throws a blanket over them both and wraps his arms around her. It’s nearly 6:00 am and the hazy yellow light of sunrise signals the arrival of morning.

“We have work in a few hours,” she says sleepily, resting her head on his chest.

“I think today is a good day to play hooky,” he tells her, giving her a squeeze.

They are quiet for a few minutes, and she starts to doze off.

“I’m glad you came over,” he says quietly.

“Me too,” she agrees, tilting her head up in invitation of a kiss.

She drifts in a sea of dopamine and oxytocin for some time, slipping into sleep until Mulder sighs or shifts and reminds her that she is not sleeping alone for the first time in years.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, pulling her back again.

“Hm?”

“The dream me, or alternate me…was he an improvement over the model in this universe?”

She props herself up on an elbow and looks at him in the hazy morning light. He looks uncertain. Vulnerable.

“Not any more than the alternate version of me was,” she says, meeting his eye. “I think we’re products of our experiences in many ways, but at the core we’re still the same people. You would still be you and I would still be me even if our lives had taken different paths, but maybe those paths were meant to cross. I don’t wish you were different, Mulder, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The corner of his mouth quirks.

“I was actually referring to the sex,” he admits sheepishly.

Scully’s mouth falls open in surprise, and then she drops her forehead against his chest to hide her face in embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t know,” she tells him, resettling herself.

“Really?” he asks in disbelief. “Not even a kiss?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Wow. It took me nearly seven years to do what that man did in a day. What’s his secret?” he asks, jostling her playfully.

“We were married, Mulder,” she says with an edge of irritation. “Can I please go to sleep now?”

“Okay, okay. Sweet dreams, Scully.”

She snorts a laugh.

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

She falls asleep surprisingly fast and is quickly pulled into the limitless world of dreams. These dreams are of the ambiguous, hazy nature she’s used to. They are non-linear and full of missing context, but when she wakes she’ll recall the twinkle of Christmas lights and Mulder’s hand on her rounded belly, and the loud bark of her father’s laugh.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[welp-back-on-my-bs]

Here is ikepri Morgan :3

Name: Morgan Solase

Age: 25

Occupation: Minority Reprisentitive in the royal court of Bennonite

Minorities: Queer(Bisexual), Nonbinary, and Disabled (AUDHD and newly PTSD)

Relationships:

Silvio: Confidants, allies, mutual menaces

Carlo: besties

King: silently mortal enemies

Gilbert: LETS NOT TALK ABOUT THAT

Eldimio: distant

Nokoto: they dont care too much for him

Clavis: entertaining, a good person to go to

Chalaver: comfortable being in silence with him

Luke: absolutely likes the new kid, helps him out with transitioning from commoner to royal life

Keith(host): sweets bestie

Keith(alter): doubble menaces

Backstory:

TW: Colonizeation(?), implications of rape, miscarrage

Silvio was sitting on the patio of the Bennonite palace, with Morgan across from him. They were quite confused as to why they were there

"You asked me to come?"

"Yep, sit"

Morgan did as they were told and Silvio poured them a glass of alcohol.

"I don't really-"

"You're gonna wanna with the conversation we're bout to have"

"Oh- you want to know about..."

"Yep-" Silvio pushed Morgan their glass but atleast cut it down with some juice for their sake.

"Well... you already know I'm from one of the lands Obsidian took over...

It was quite the peaceful land, liveing off of trades with other lands, culture, and hope. It was one of many smaller nations, probably around the size of Rohdinite, but there was multiple of the same size cluster together and formed a tight knit alliance with one another."

Morgan sighed softly and took a sip of their alcohol.

"So, when Obsidian came, we shared that peace, trades, and our traditions... but we'll, we were scammed out of everything."

They sighed and shook their head softly "I may be two generations removed from that... but... I can see the pain it has left us... see my friends being hurt... see the judgement and fear... but... by blood... I was one of the ones who hurt them..."

"When my family first moved there, it was in hope to be able to get a better life than what they had before... but Obsidian just destroys and destroys... and I was... useless..."

They fidgeted with the glass quietly, to collect themself. Silvio nodded and offered a hand of empathy. Morgan ignored it.

"When the time had come to figure out how I was to be useful to the 'Grate Obsidian'. I was chosen as a hose wife. A breeder..." Morgan quietly shook and finished their drink.

"I was married off quickly, to someone who at first was quite kind. He was a younger man, but a good soilder for the army. He PROMISED... he... promised..  that... we wouldn't have to... have to..."

Silvio growled a bit as his own glass broke. He knew Morgan was uncomfortable sleeping around men. He knew he made her feel scared when they first met. And that was why. Their first husband was why.

"You don't have to say it..."

Morgan just nodded an continued "so... after... that... I had a miscarage... and it... finally snapped in my head... I don't... I dont have to stay... i could go somewhere else... that's when I ran here."

Silvio nodded and Morgan pulled him into a hug as they cried into his chest. Silvio did his best at comforting them, it wasn't good but hey, he was trying.

TLDR:

Morgan grew up in a town that was taken over by Obsidian. They could feel from a young age the corruption was rampant there. They want to do what they can to give it back to those who were originally there, but they knew that they couldn't do anything. When the time came to be selected for a job, they were made to be a housewife and given a husband who used that position greedily. They decided to run away after they failed to carry a child to term. After escaping they met Silvio and started to work for him.

[dr-abitat-blog]

Day 23: "Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!"

@ailesswhumptober

T/W: Captivity, experimentation, implied referenced character death, illness, vomiting

The characters of Hatter, White Rabbit and King of Hearts belong to @whumpsmith

“Dee!” 

Alex immediately runs forward to support my shivering form. The two guards all but throw me onto the cold floor of our bunker, like I’m nothing more than a rag doll. They almost remind me of Hatter’s goons — but much meaner.

“What the heck did you do to him?!”

Somewhere I hear Nick growling, followed by other bad words I won��t repeat. I must look pretty awful. I really feel awful.

“H-hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

A pair of warm arms wrap around my body, holding me in a supportive hug. I peer up with teary glazed eyes, sniffling ever so slightly. Just lifting my head feels like an extreme effort. Everything hurts.

“A…lex…?”

“Y-yeah. It’s me. Oh God, Dee…” His blurred white and grey form goes all fuzzy in front of my eyes. His own brown ones are wide with concern. It looks a little like he’s crying too, his black hair all tangled and messy as he helps me sit up. I gratefully let him guide me, too exhausted to do much else. My body aches and burns from the usual testing. I used to scream and plead with them to stop, but now — I know that they won’t, so pleading is useless. You just have to grit your teeth, close your eyes and be brave.

Be brave like a hero.

Sometimes I try to pretend that I’m King of Hearts, strapped down in the Hatter’s lair, being tortured into giving up where White Rabbit is hiding — except a rescue doesn’t come. It never comes — and it doesn’t stop. Not until they’ve finished all of their horrible tests. Then it’s back here, to our ‘home’. It took time to adjust — especially after they moved us a few times — but now we have a routine going. I at least know what to expect — and I know when the pain ends.

First, we wake up together at 7 AM sharp. Then we have breakfast and they take us to have a wash down. That’s usually being hosed down until we’re clean. After that they take us intermittently one by one for testing. It hurts. It hurts so much. They stab us with needles, or shock us, or inject things through our veins. After that we’re allowed to rest. We have dinner. We tell each other stories before lights out  and then we go to sleep. A lot of the time I get nightmares. Alex comforts me if I get them. He’s like the brother I never had.

I have no idea how long we’ve been here, but I do remember what happened before this. There were sixteen of us on this residential hospital programme. It was meant to help us feel better about our mental health — but they were just experimenting on us, like mice in a lab. We escaped — well, not all of us. Joe didn’t make it. I still miss him. Then we got taken to a place like this for ‘safety’ and they split us all up. I haven’t seen Ash and Levi for so long — and then Sam got moved a long time ago too. I don’t know where any of them are. Maybe I never will.

At least I have Alex — and the other boys who are still alive. Nick used to frighten me because he got very mad very easily, but he can’t help it, like I can’t help my stimming, or finding bright lights and loud noises too overwhelming. Now he’s quite nice, usually protecting us. Theo is nice too, although his pink hair dye has worn off now, revealing his natural dark brown hair. Josh was with us for a while too, but…I think he failed his last test.

What if I fail my test?

That thought scares me. I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to be all alone. I-I want to see Mom again…

“Come on, let’s get you into bed. Theo, give me a hand.”

“Coming, Al — hang on, buddy, we got you.”

Together, they half carry my limp form over to my bunk bed. I got to pick which one I wanted. The other boys already here — Ray, Leon and Gus — have also started warming up to us. They’re nice but quiet. I notice them watching me as Alex and Theo help me into bed.

“N-no more hurting,” I murmur weakly.

“No more today, Dee. Here, drink some water. Slow sips, that’s it.”

Whilst Alex starts letting me drink the water, the guards stride into our small bunker, walking straight up to Nick.

“Your turn.”

“Fudge you,” he growls (well, he didn’t really say that, but I don’t want to repeat bad words), but still lets them drag him off with a few defiant struggles. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine—!”

His reassuring yell gets cut off by the door locking behind them. That leaves the rest of us in silence, my head throbbing and pulsing. The water does help a bit. Alex and Theo remain quiet, just watching me and keeping me company until the exhaustion takes over and I slip into quiet sleep.

I don’t know how long I sleep for. Probably a few hours, since Alex wakes me up for dinner. The stew is way too lumpy in texture for me to eat. I end up gagging on it and having to go without. Nick also chooses to miss out on dinner. He got back an hour ago and he hasn’t really said much. When the others have finished eating, we all go back to our beds to rest. I don’t get much rest though. Something feels…off. That ‘something’  soon becomes obvious when I start violently throwing up all over my bed-sheets. 

“C-Cody!”

The others immediately surround me. My entire body feels weak and shivery. The smell of my vomit only makes me throw up again. Alex rubs my back gently, supporting me as I start to fall back onto my back.

“What’s wrong with him?” “No doubt a side effect of whatever fudging thing they were testing.”

Gus lets out a gasp.

“I-is that…blood?”

The others quickly take a look. I don’t want to, but the expressions on their faces suggest that it is.

Oh no…

“D-Dee…you’re burning up.”

Alex’s hand presses against my clammy forehead. I shiver again, my breathing suddenly becoming harder. 

“Wh-what’s…happen…gnnk..”

“I-I don’t know—someone call a nurse or something!” “Like they’ll do anything, Four Eyes.”

“Shut up, Nick—Leon! Call them! Call them now!”

I hear the panic rising in Alex’s voice. Leon soon disappears, banging on the door.

“Hey! HEY! We need help in here!” The minutes pass — no one comes. I throw up again — twice. Tears roll down my cheeks as I pant for breath. My mouth tastes horrible. Everything feels all spinny. My eyelids are really…heavy.

“L-Lex…nngh…so…tired…”

His grip on me tighten. He even gives me a little shake.

“F-fight it. You have to fight it, Dee,” Alex tells me shakily. “I-I know you’re tired, but if you close your eyes whilst you’re like this, how are we to know that you’ll ever open them again?”

“Nngh…”

The world pulses around me. The spinning continues. My eyes droop—

“Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

He shakes my shoulders. Through the blur, I notice the tears behind his glasses, crawling down his face. “P-please, Dee — stay awake. Stay with us.”

“Y-yeah, we’re right here. Just don’t close your eyes, okay?”

All of them are…so concerned about me. It’s nice to be surrounded by friends, by people that care.

“I…want…Pad…dy…”

“You’ll see him again, Dee. I-I promise, you’ll see that big fluff-ball again soon, so you have to stay awake, no matter what? Got it?”

I don’t answer immediately, drawing in a strained breath. 

Keep eyes open…keep…eyes…op…en….

“Nngh…read…to me…”

“H-huh?”

My request takes them aback for a few seconds — until Nick finally understands.

“Your comic? Y-you want your comic, Dee?”

“M-mhmm…”

“Okay — hey, someone grab it!” There’s an odd scuffle as the others move a little closer. Ray is the one to grab my precious comic, flicking to the last dog-eared page. 

“It was…page sixty two that we reached last night, right?” I nod weakly, leaning back against Alex. His hands tremble a little as he runs them through my curled brunette hair. “Okay…King of Hearts and the Cards of Calamity—”

“I got it.”

To my surprise, it’s Nick who takes the comic. It’s Nick who starts to read aloud to me. When he once laughed at me for my childish interests in superheroes, now he reads with me. “King of Hearts had had quite the day. Since he and White last overcame the Mad Hatter he…h-he was ready for a break. Except…heroes don’t get breaks.”

I blink groggily at him, tearing up a bit as he continues to read. “One day, he was out…at Central Park when he came across…a tarot reader who could…share his fortune. She used a…deck…of her own…cards…to read his…”

The words start to fade in my ears. I feel the darkness creeping in from the corners of my eyes. Alex squeezes me gently, even as I struggle to stay awake.

“But…the cards…cursed…him…to be…trapped…with no…other…hero…to…save…”

The last part of the sentence is lost through…a loud boom. The sound of our door being thrown open fades in my ears. I see the hazy figure in the doorway — and then nothing but black.