#Ever After in cinders au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tteokdoroki · 1 month ago

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✎ᝰ. OCT 15TH ★ MUTUAL MASTURBATION - tobio kageyama .ᐟ

[CHAPTER FIFTEEN CINDERELLA] once upon a time, a soon-to-be crowned princess, once down on her luck, says fuck it and settles on consummating her marriage with the crown prince before they’re actually due to be married ( 9.2K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, cinderella!au, royal wedding, mutual masturbation, cherry chasing, clothed sex, soft sex, oral sex, cum play, fingering, jerking off, cinderella + fem!reader, prince charming!tobio kageyama.

✧ fairy godmother's note - yurrr three for three ! i really enjoyed writing this one and i hope you like it as much as i enjoyed it at the time !! ily guys see you in the next one :D - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

“it’s a perfect fit…”

luck has never been on your side. up until now — it was almost like the universe had turned its back on you. your mother’s spirit had faded before you’d even opened your eyes to the colours of the world and not long after, your father passed away… leaving you with his wicked wife and scornful step-sisters.

for years, all you’ve known are the painful wounds of cruelty inflicted by their hands. nights of tending sore arms and legs and joints after tending to their every incredulous need. you hardly remember the feeling of love — its warm embrace and tender touch, love to you is an emotion that died with your father when you laid him to rest as a young girl. you’ve been down on your luck ever since then, never knowing if you’d ever be able to experience the same feeling ever again.

for one night only, you’d managed to get a taste. the sweet sensation of love and affection bursting across your tongue on the night that you’d danced at the royal ball where the king and queen’s only son sought out a beautiful bride. out of all the girls, ladies and princesses there — kageyama had chosen you. danced with you non-stop. laughed with you all night. looked at you as if you were the only girl in the entire world for hours on end. for one night, you felt whole again, happy once more, whether that was down to fairy godmother’s magic or your own subtle charm.

but now, with the crown prince of your kingdom on his knee before you, you can see that your dance meant more than just a fleeting moment.

tobio kageyama of royal blood had practically searched the ends of the earth for a foot that fit perfectly into the glass slipper you’d left behind. by his own will and determination he’d wanted to find you, to love you and make you his — this very reasoning causes your stomach to swim with hope and newfound excitement. this could be it.

the change you’ve been looking for and the love you’ve been seeking all your life. “the shoe…it fits,” kageyama repeats breathily, the prince’s usual stoic expression quickly replaced with an adoring and charming smile that sends a pang straight through your beating heart and directly into your longing soul. “it’s you, you’re the one i’ve been looking for.”

with a twist of his wrist and his lips dangerously close to your knee — the prince wriggles the glass slipper ( now cleaned of any blood and bits left from your spiteful step siblings cutting off their own toes ) onto your foot, his chest a little lighter and his deep ocean eyes a lot brighter when it slides on without resistance.

“it’s me,” you beam, much to the bitter dismay of the only family you’d known throughout your years. the family that never truly loved you. “you’ve found me…”

leaning up to grasp your hands, stained black with the cinders from the fire you usually prod and poke at to keep alive, kageyama lets out an airy laugh robust with his own joy and excitement. “and i’m never letting you go, never losing you again. marry me, would you?” one of his thumbs moves to brush tenderly over your ring finger and any sunlight filtering into the room refracts off of your glass slipper — perfectly illuminating the mysterious azure swirling in the prince’s eyes.

he cocks his head to the side; innocent and pleading like a puppy — and you know right then and there that you’d be a fool to let a great love like this pass you by after all that you’ve been through. “oh kageyama,” you coo shyly, basking in the way that the prince shudders as his name peers from between your precious lips. “of course i’ll marry you!”

and just like that, your fate and newfound happiness are sealed. the crown prince leaps to his feet to twirl you in his arms, lips pressing to yours and acting as a signature to sign off on your new life and love. you’re wanted, you’re loved and by a prince no less.

but even then, you remain unsure if you even deserve it all.

these doubts are only exacerbated after your first few days at the palace, which pass in an overwhelming blur.

despite the cruelty in which they’d treated you with, you don’t get to say goodbye to your step-family, nor pick out and see your belongings as they’re packed up for your new home in the king’s castle. in the same day that you’re moved into the towering palace, full of high ceilings and art deco so expensive you can feel your worth drop at every piece you admire — wedding preparations swiftly begin and you’re once more bombarded with all sorts of questions. how do you like your cake? your wedding colours? what style do you want your hair? how many guests? the royal servants mean well, you know, but they give you no room to breathe — as someone not accustomed to a lifestyle where your every need is met in a millisecond and you, yourself are not expected to wait hand and foot on someone else.

anxiety replaces the traces of elation that had once flushed its way through your system, beginning in the four chambers of your heart. how do you know that you’re cut out for this? going from poverty to a princess? there are no classes to teach you how to step up and rule a kingdom after having notably nothing for your entire life. you’re in desperate need of guidance, the gentle direction of the one man relying on you to help create a beautiful, powerful kingdom now and for the many years to come, you have just that, you have the ring of a crown prince on your finger but…

but, you hardly see tobio as the days go by. the very first night he was whisked off by the many men and royal guard to celebrate his engagement. one moment, he appears by your side — frustratingly handsome, with darkened sapphire eyes that rival the countless Crown Jewels you’ve been shown during your stay, a jaw hard set and angular that makes your knees weak while he explains his demands for your wedding to any staff who may question your choices and a smile so rare that your entire world flips on its axis to disorientate you and like you’re drowning in the palace kitchen’s fresh batch of hot sugar whenever he sends it your way. you consider yourself lucky to be betrothed to such a man, all because of a slipper.

in those far and few moments where the dark haired prince has time to put aside for you — tobio cannot keep his hands off of you. either settling them on your waist or keeping them interlocked with his. you shudder at the sensation of his nose brushing over your hairline or his lips on the very ring he’d given you — a moonlight silver band with a sapphire gem just like his eyes, all for you. ever since you slipped between his fingers at the royal ball he’s been terrified to let you go, as though you might disappear for good. he doesn’t say it, you can hardly read past his stony expression and stern voice ( used only around others, never when you’re alone together ), but you can feel it when he squeezes your hand in passing and hidden away in the intensity of his stare.

you’d be lying if you said you don’t feel the same, frightful that your Prince Charming will be ripped away along with the happiness that you now have. like when your father died and left you with that wicked woman. but before you have a chance to treasure your prince and seek his reassurances, tobio is off again, leaving you surrounded by an ocean of doubts and fears that you’ll never live up to yet another family’s expectations.

a pauper to a princess, and next, a queen.

is your love for each other enough to qualm your unease?

even if the queen finds you pleasant and the king finds you beautifully perfect for his son upon introduction — none of them phased by their son’s choice in bride. a commoner of no noble blood but thoughts of being out of place eat at you all day, even with kageyama so subtly affectionate by your side.

you’ve come from nothing, by no means cut out to be a royal, and still… everyone wants you here. including kageyama.

and you just can’t help but feel like an imposter.

by nightfall, a week later, the maids have settled into a regular routine of drawing you a buttermilk bath with honey and rose petals.

scrub brushes and soft cotton cloths work at the stubborn grit on your skin — washing away the memories of the turbulent life you once lived. the cinders from under your nails add a darkness to the milky water like a drop of ink on a blank white canvas, a reminder of the commonness you exuded before moving into the palace to be with your prince. the sight makes you press your lips into a thin line, your wet tongue gliding over the chapped skin nervously. if the maids notice yet more remaining dirt from your past, they fail to comment on it.

now with soft scented skin and a dampness to the back of your neck — they aid in dressing you, baby blue silks and cotton white tule is draped over your frame under the dazzling moonlight as they help prepare you for bed. a time that you dread, where you’re left alone with your insecurities once more.

with your wedding to the crown prince but a week away, the royal staff have kept proper tradition in making sure the two of you remain apart until the wedding night. that, coupled with the fact that you hardly see kageyama during the day, only add to the sting of loneliness and self doubt filtering through your veins. like lemon juice on an open wound.

“we’ll be back to dress you in the morning, your highness,” your lady in waiting tells you, a tone of patience cushioning the fall of her voice as the group of maide leave you the mirror to admire your solemn reflection. parting your lips, they move around the syllables of your name — debating on correcting her and telling her to use it in place of ill-fitting titles. you decide on the latter, shaking your head ‘yes’ while offering up a timid smile in response. it’s far too early to start speaking out of turn; treating your staff as your step-mother would have treated you. “should you need anything, please ring for us m’lady.”

your head bobs shyly once again and the maids take their leave. “thank you, i will.”

despite the quiet of the night, where every soul lays sleeping soundly under the stars and watchful eye of the silver moon, your mind and heart are restless — wide awake. you’re alone and you should be excited. you’re about to marry a prince and become a royal and all you can think about is the bed that’s too soft beneath your back and the clothes that are too fancy to be worn as they itch and scratch at your freshly scrubbed skin. the ceilings of your private quarters are way too high, providing a wide space for your panic to fill — constantly reminding you of the fact that you don’t belong.

leaving you with the sinking feeling that you still have to leave by midnight.

before long, the hours tick by and sleep continues to escape you — every insecurity and doubt you have weighs heavy on your mind like a winter blanket instead of a peaceful slumber that you crave… periodically interrupted by the hoot of an owl and… knocking?

abruptly sitting straight up in bed, you toss the covers to the side all too quickly — blinking the sadness and sleep deprivation away. “c-come… come in!” you call to the culprit, swallowing down your nerves as your lady in waiting from earlier enters with a small curtesy. you scramble out of bed clumsily to return the gesture, still not used to the royal treatment. “is something wrong?”

the maid smiles fondly, taking a liking to how jumpy you are. “the prince has requested your presence in his chambers tonight.”

“o-oh!” while relief and nervousness floods through all four limbs of your body and anticipation crackles over your brain like a thunderstorm kicking into gear — you can’t help but to question the crown prince’s motives. why would kageyama want to see you so late at night? was he having doubts too? was he worried sick? isn’t this.. improper?

observing how you fiddle with the silver band of your engagement ring — your maid must sense your thoughts as they pollute the air with scents of unsureness or nervousness because she takes a tentative step into the room, grasping your attention, to provide a reassuring explanation. “he thinks you might be lonely… i think he misses you too, my dear.”

to hear that you’ve not been the only one craving affection from your lover has you perking up — your shoulders a little lighter and the burden of assimilation relieved. slightly. it proves to you that kageyama is still as caring and thoughtful as he was that night at the ball, your heart leaps to know that he’s thinking of you also. “do i…do i need to bring anything?”

“no, just yourself your highness,” coos your maid in amusement, offering her arm as you pull yourself from bed — eager to meet with your future husband once more.

after a short walk from your room to his, guided by candlelight, you’re pushed into the crown prince’s quarters without warning, flinching as large oak double doors creak shut behind your back. leaving you locked and enveloped in the darkness of four foreign walls. your breath hitches once you meet a pair of ocean eyes and a midnight dark gaze, your own adjusting to the dark veil cloaking the room’s lighting. once your vision has settled, you take note of tobio’s figure sitting on the edge of his bed, as if he’s been waiting for you with muted eagerness all this time.

for a moment, or what feels like eternity, neither of you say anything — your baited breaths tickle the cool night air, neither of you can will yourself to move and reach for one another’s embrace despite how much you’ve truly missed each other. it’s almost as if you’re seeing him for the first time and he’s seeing you all over again. recounting the night at the ball, where tobio was forcibly stopped in his tracks by your beauty and your grace. where he felt the beat of his heart slow so much he thought he might have died and gone to heaven. it’s only then that he remembers just how real you are, that he pushes himself off of the bed and takes longing, timid steps towards you at the far end of his room.

almost as though he’s about to ask you for another midnight dance.

“tobio i—“ you rasp, swallowing down the yearning tone acting as a blockade for your words in the base of your throat. there’s so much that you want to tell him and reassurances that you want to ask of the dark haired prince, words that never come and only die prematurely on your tongue. everything with tobio is brand new and rushed, you would hate to ruin the connection with your insecurities. but you need him, right now, you need him to reach out to you and console you — craving his warmth and the beat of his heart you’re sure only syncs up with your own.

you need him and he knows that you do.

tobio kageyama has never been the best at comforting others. growing up an only child and in his own kind of privileged solitude, he’d never had the need to provide sympathetic symphonies or kind hearted whispers — he was a prince. it had never and would never be his purpose in life. born to serve a kingdom left in his name, tobio was to be only one thing. a charming, strong willed ruler. at least, until he'd met you. until he saw you just inches away from the centre of his room, swimming for words and while your doe eyes searched desperately for a solace in him. in your future king, husband and lover. a solace he now felt he absolutely, instinctually needed to provide.

as long as you were with him, you’d only feel safety and serenity, that was the new mantle tobio kageyama would take up.

in three short strides he’s across the room, tobio’s smooth large hands cupping the apples of your cheeks as he guides you into looking up at him. “i missed you,” he says the words for you, azure eyes dancing across your face as though to commit every detail to memory. the way your brows creasing the centre of your forehead and the way your lips droop into a needy pout. he kisses you next, unexpected, but slow and gentle — coaxing a sigh of content from your warm mouth. he feels your lashes flutter shut against his pale toned cheeks, and your body melt into his sturdy frame like butter. like you’re being welcomed home — your dainty fingers grip his wrist to keep yourself there. “i thought you might be lonesome… we haven’t been together all week.”

nodding, your eyes remain shut because you fear if you open them — you’ll wake up from a dream. but tobio’s free hand on your waist, squeezing, grounds you and reminds you that your engagement to the prince is a reality. “the palace has been overwhelming without you,” you admit, feeling the dark haired prince’s fingers slip into your own.

with a keening whine, you lean into the now empty space where your lover’s hand once was. kageyama grins subtly, wisps of fondness pulling the corners of his lips upwards into a crooked smile. “you seem tense. come lay with me, my princess.” comes his delicate whisper, quiet so that the night remains undisturbed, almost afraid that he's speaking too loud will cause you to shatter into a million tiny pieces. you know that the crown prince will hold you together if you fall apart and allow yourself ushered towards his king sized bed positioned where he stood just minutes ago.

kageyama’s hold on your waist is firm, reassuring — his large palm covering a wide expanse on the small of your back. you’d be a fool to say you didn’t enjoy the sweltering sensation of his touch burning through your thinly veiled night clothes. a liar to say you weren’t imagining his touch going any further. there’s a brief moment where the dark haired prince twirls you in his arms, much like a swift movement from the ballroom, before the backs your knees hit the edge of his bed and you fall into its plush swan-feather mattress.

flustered and bewildered, your once heavy eyelids shoot open to look up at your prince while you scoot backwards onto the bed by the force of your elbows — your breathing grows uneven and mismatched, throat bobbing as you swallow the delightful anticipation brewing within from watching tobio expertly crawl up the bed to pin you against it. athletic and rugged arms that have wielded many a weapon cage you against luxury silken sheets — a pair of wild admiral blue eyes drink you in as ig you’re the last glass of water on earth while pale, milky cheeks glow fiery rose above you.

kageyama’s breath fans warmly over your face, his expression stubbornly contorting to reveal his late night desire for one thing.

you.

his vulnerable dame who looks oh so pretty under the glinting moonlight.

“tell me,” he murmurs to you hoarsely, the bend of his index finger brushing over your cheeks which turns into his hand when he moves his feather light touch the plains of your unmarked neck. possessively. “why is it that you cannot sleep?”

at first, you’re taken aback by your lover’s question. there are many reasons you could list, starting with the abrupt change to your lifestyle. your home sickness and even, the fact that you miss him…but as kageyama’s gentle hand cascades like the calm flow of a river over your shoulders, collarbone and even dangerously close to your heaving chest — you lose the answer in the hazy fog of your mind. “m-many things, my prince,” you stutter out breathlessly, smaller-than-his fingers lunging at his wrist to hold his hand in place above your heartbeat. “right now… it’s your touch. i hadn’t realised how much i…needed it. how it makes my heart race.” heated tension in the air mounts like a stack of bricks, cemented together by a neediness neither of you have felt before.

the desire for human touch and closeness, the temperate buzz of love that’s new to the both of you.

it clings to every molecule of air in the room, weighing you both down with a contagious cloying cloudiness. both of you sick with a scorching proclivity that has you feverish all over. you need to touch him, you need to kiss him, to be with your tobio kageyama or you have no idea what will happen. will the world end if you don’t feel your skin against his? will the two of you go up in flames if you don’t get any closer?

the sounds of sheets shifting in the night bring your attention back to the real world. your lover adjusts, the entirety of his lean frame, keeping you trapped against cotton peaks. “i’m afraid i feel the same, i find it hard to keep myself from touching you,” your browns furrow cutely at tobio’s strangled words, throat running dry as you note the prince’s seemingly internal struggle to stay sane above you. to make sure he doesn’t do something you might both regret. “i find it hard to believe that you’re mine...”

“tobio, please i—“

whatever you had planned on saying dies on the tip of your tongue the moment tobio kageyama kisses you for the second time that night. this one is different from the first, fuelled by delirious passion instead of the need to comfort — his tongue laps at the small part between your ruby lips from where you’ve gasped in surprise. kageyama tastes you and tastes you, lapping up whatever flavour lies in your mouth — sweet enough to make moan darkly from the depths of his princely soul as he breathes hungrily into your mouth. almost relieved to finally have his pressed against your own after holding himself back. you take it, you taste it, you let your back arch itself into the broad width of his chest and wolf down everything he gives you. the first drops of his saliva as it oozes onto the palette of your tongue, his eager huffs that clouded your mind and make you feel as if you’ve been poisoned.

the world slows and the night turns silent for the two of you. wet smacks of your lips slotting together perfectly echo to the highest point of the ceiling in the prince’s chambers — heat rises in the room as well, kageyama’s touch turning to veiny hands pinning you beneath him using a brutish grip on your waist. not that you’re complaining.

but in an instant, tobio is pulling off of you — breaking away from the kiss like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice cold water from the kitchens. “i’m… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have—“ the dark haired prince’s nose turns to nudge against your youthful cheek, hot and wet lips now running down to the junction between your neck and shoulders like a tamed stream of warm water. “s-sorry, i’m not sure what came over me.”

compared to his usual stoic expressions and tones, the kageyama before you now looks as though he’s fallen ill, the tips of his ears, nose and apples of his cheeks are all tinged with a rose blush and his chest rises and falls at a rapid, uncomfortable pace. confusion intertwines itself with the beat of your heart and must show on the details of your face, for your lover’s mouth moves to form the question ‘are you alright?’ that is quickly interrupted by your own hazy actions. you pull tobio back onto you by the roots of his dark hair with one hand, the other tilting his chin down towards you. each of his kisses, growing sloppier and sloppier; feel real — not like the fever dream you’ve been walking through since moving into the palace.

“i can’t…i can’t believe that you’re mine either,” you hum between the pattern of mismatched kisses against swollen lips, letting out a tune of innocent moans like the finest music to your lover’s ears. your shaky fingers curl in kageyama’s soft baby hairs — keeping him close, although the force of your lip locks cause your head to tilt back into the plush array of pillows.

everything is so hot and passionate and brand new to you, you must be losing your mind. with your eyes fluttering open, you realise that you’ve never seen kageyama look at you so darkly, his own eyes till of sensuality and mirth. you can tell from just a brief glance the depth of his desire for you, he’s waited far too long to have you like this. and now, the sexual tension is obvious.

his rough tongue slips from your mouth to the corner of your lips, dragging a loving trail of wetness down to your prominent collarbones — the prince dares to leave a dark mark in a colour that rivals the midnight skies outside, basking in the cute bleats you let out periodically and the way your nose scrunched up adorably at the pleasure he gives you. using the pointed edge of his teach, kageyama moves to pull down the baby blue, tule bolero the maids had dressed you in — hungrily inching it off of your shoulders while a free hand slides down to play with the doughy, smooth skin of your thighs. almost filling beneath the hem of your nightdress.

gasping in surprise, you resist the urge to bolt upwards — tentatively tugging tobio by the hair away from you to garner his attention.

“w-wait! what about our wedding night?”

a touch of condescending laughter lays wetly on kageyama’s kiss swollen lips, pulling them back just enough to see toothy smirk and pearly white teeth. “what about it?” without missing another beat he swoops down to steal another salacious smooch from you, tongue edging past the weak seal of your mouth to roll around and toy with your own. he can practically taste the nervous desire on you as he steadies a hand above your head to ground himself. “we’re set to be married shortly. surely i can indulge in my future wife before then…”

judging by his movements, such as his tightened grip on the headboard above your head and the bounce of his lips between his perfect teeth, you can tell that tobio remains intent on kissing you. not that you can blame him; it’s the most you’ve tasted of one another since your arrival at the palace. but you will yourself to speak and for once, to voice your concern — knowing that your partner will still love you at the other end of your words. “my prince i…i-i haven’t,” inhaling deeply through your nose, you steal your nerves and fight the sweet mewls that brew like a storm at the back of your throat — a natural response to kageyama who now insists on peppering kisses at the base of your neck (since he could not have your lips). “i have not experienced this before. a-and i want you, i do! i’d just… i’d like for our wedding night to be…”

the crown prince pauses his actions, his dizzy and lustful stare darting up to meet yours whilst his dark, midnight hair no longer tickles your neck. “special?”

“special.” you repeat with a wavering nod of your head.

a beat passes where neither of you speak and the silence is filled by your ragged panting. for a second, just a split second, you’re afraid that tobio might not understand or may even reject you but just as he were earlier — he lets a tender smile tug in the corners of his soft lips (reserved only for you) as a thread of adoration weaves itself between the jet black flecks in his darkened eyes. “i don’t want to do anything you might regret or that you wouldn’t ask me for…” he murmurs huskily, leaning down so that the words press against the shell of your ear and cause you to arch your back desperately.

“i have no regrets… not right now i just,” you whine into the night, gripping kageyama’s for some kind of the to reality. “want to go slower, not all the way…”

“not all the way…” the prince muses hungrily, smoothing over your inner calf. you feel his teeth tug at your earlobes as tobio’s tone dips into low and sexy territory — setting the butterflies in your tummy alight with newfound lust. “then it’s alright with you…i’d still like to ease you, to touch you. it might help you sleep.” he reaches down, lips ghosting over the faint adam’s apple in your throat, grinning as it bobs beneath his touch. “i promise to be gentle.”

“promise?”

“you have my sworn word.”

you blink up at the crown prince with big doe eyes, willing him to see the trust laced within them. “okay…i’m okay with more.”

kageyama makes haste in his next movements — undoing the poorly tied ribbon holding your bolero together and pushing your nightgown all the way off of your shoulders. a hand squeezes yours reassuringly the more fabric he peels away from your trembling frame. endearing praises, hushed whispers of ‘good girl,’ and ‘you’re so beautiful’, are written across your marked flesh in tobio’s signature too — all the while he remains careful, considerate of your wish as he presses wet, sloppy kisses onto the surface of your newly exposed skin. an almost pained gasp tears through your throat, stealing all of the air from your lungs, when your prince removed enough of your clothing to expose your breasts to the icy night air. a little more, and your soft, supple stomach is revealed too.

apprehension tingles below your surface. you’ve never been naked in front of someone before, much less a person that you love. the feeling makes you instinctively cover up — grip retreating from your loved one’s hair to wrap around the curve of your breasts. effectively shielding them from kageyama’s insatiable view.

“don’t hide from me, my sweet love,” kageyama coos. “you’re so beautiful. i want to see and have all of you.” pulling your arms down until they rest at your sides, he’s quick to sooth you, an eager mouth immediately encapsulating your hardening nipples, tongue rolling over the circumference of your areola wetly. you can’t help but whimper, fingers jumping up like a twitch and tightening in his midnight locks whilst neither of you dare to look away — gazes locked with a key that’s been long thrown away.

the prince’s face flashes with heat while he languidly flicks at your nipples with the searing hot tip of his tongue, a dazed expression etched across the gentle slope of his handsome features, making him appear as a man who’s stumbled across an oasis — dying for water. his very face right now sets your core alight.

it would be distortion of the truth to say the look painted upon your own features didn’t rival tobio’s. there’s got to be tears somewhere or a glossy pout to match the light sheen of sweat dousing your body. either way, you know that you look a swivel-eyed mess — every touch, kiss, bite and pinch you receive from the crown prince accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you feel for your future husband currently smothering you into satiny sheets, drives you up a wall that was once many feet high. your blood boils hot, buzzing beneath your skin, so hot you might as well have a fever. it’s all so new for you, so overwhelmingly good that you could die here and be happy, slick and cherished.

somewhere in the mess of your blistering hot limbs and lusty laments, kageyama bunches the skirts of your night dress at your middle and makes his veiny, large hand comfortable between the apexes of your thighs. you quiver violently and even make a darling noise as tobio goes on to prod a knuckle against the seat of your fresh underwear — chuckling almost mutely at the dampness that soils them in response. “oh princess,” kageyama swallows thickly, amused. “you’re soaking right through these already. poor thing.”

the way in which the prince purrs down at you, eyes murky and hooded, tone superlicious with notes of superiority only serves to drag you further away from the light above. dragging you under the surface of a desire oh so sinful.

you realise then that you’d be happy to drown in tobio kageyama.

whether you meant to let it out or not, a pathetic sniffle breaks free from the barriers of your pouty lips and clenched teeth — eliciting a sick and prideful sort of expression on the prince’s handsome face. a face that hardly ever moves or shows any emotion for the people of his kingdom. another secret to be kept between the two of you. this version of the charming prince revels in the way that you squirm against his knuckles and finger tips as they bully your swelling clit relentlessly. basks in the juices that darken your underwear despite the innocent gleam to the tears in your eyes. tears that have yet to fall.

“i can smell just how wet you are, princess,”

shame begins to curl around your organs, but hardly wins the war against your brewing sexual appetite for the dark haired male licking a withering pathway from the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and over your belly button to the point just above your pelvis. “i-i’m sorry, my prince.”

while tobio battles between torturing you and nurturing you, a hoarse groan loaded with desire vibrates around the cavity of his chest — vibrating through the bed and shooting to your spasaminf centre. “don’t be, i take pride in knowing that i have this effect on you.” now settled between your shaky legs, your betrothed blows a bout of warm air against your sex, rubbing at you faster and harder until your thighs instinctively spread wide enough for his dirty-minded gaze. “so pretty, mmph.”

“y-you should…you should see the way you look…down there, my love.” bravely, you somehow manage to talk through your pockets of dulcet whimpers and poor attempts to fill your air with lungs. it’s hard to speak and difficult to breathe when kageyama is busy pressing two fingers to your clothed entrance, fucking the slight resistance of your treacly hole as streams of your premature arousal ruins your panties further. azure eyes loose their vibrant shade at the sight, gaze honed in on the newly defined shape of your puffy folds.

you’re quick to throw an arm over your face in embarrassment afterwards, however, too afraid that you’ve spoken out of turn with the royal despite your improper predicament.

“oh? what a mouth you have there, sweetheart. how… endearing.” tobio smirks zealously, gaze momentarily flickering up towards your angelic face as it twists with uncharted bliss — all the while, he never stops pinching and rolling your clit, ensuring that you’re soaked through and trembling. “i thought i told you not to hide, that i wanted to see you while i made you feel good,” he continues on, warning you whilst briefly stopping his assault on your slippery sex to push past the lace trimming on your underwear and teasingly pat the entirety of the treasure hidden behind it.

screwing your eyes shut and scrunching up your nose, your head flies back into the pillows while your thighs instinctively snapping closed around your betrothed’s hand — keeping him trapped against your cunt. “o-oh my gods, tobio!” you cry out loud enough to shake the earth down to its core. even with you whinging and writhing, he doesn’t stop touching you, further building on the pleasure at the base of your spine that threatens to explode. stroking you more and more, the more that you ooze.

“sorry,” tobio laughs airly and presses a kiss to your inner thigh, using your moment of weakness to pull your limp arm away from your pinched, sweaty face. “such a pretty sound, when you cry out my name,” his kisses move higher, ghosting over your drenched underwear and pulsating pussy. “can you do me a favour, my love?”

blinking slowly, you attempt to catch a breath in the moment of respite kageyama has given you. you’re hardly there as he tugs your panties off all the way, barely able to register the cool hair now hitting your sticky mound. “hmm?”

“give me your hand,” he commands. you oblige, reaching for his own hand with the one that once covered your face. you let the crown prince manoeuvre you as he pleases — nearly jolting out of your skin when you feel your own rough padded fingertips brush over your clit. “touch yourself for me.”

“w-what?” your teary eyes, nearly overcome with sleep, fly wide open in shock. you struggle to sit up where kageyama keeps you pinned.

he smiles. one of those smiles saved only for you. “touch yourself for me, i’d like to know how my future wife likes it.” he repeats simply, guiding three of your fingers to gingerly circle your throbbing pleasure bud. “like you would if you were alone. i know that you’ve indulged before, i can see it on your face…”

now is no time to be nervous, after all, for the last thirty minutes your crown prince has had you spread wide open and a mess beneath his skillful fingers — scenting him with the slick from your cunt. although you’ve hardly had the time to touch yourself in the past, between the dizzying demands of your cruel step-mother and her petulant children, you’re able to remember what your body likes. what you like. what gets you there the fastest — and now that you have your own prince to fuel your desires, you no longer need to imagine what it’s like to be claimed. owned. fucked.

free from kageyama’s restraint, you shuffle into a sitting position and timidly circle your clit as it pulses with the rapid beat of your heart. you hiss involuntarily and the dark haired male lets out a surprising, withering whimper — laser focused on how you ooze like a tap with running water.

“thank you for indulging me,” with pools of marina trench blue engrossed by the way you start to move, the soft jut of your hips into your fingers and the way you bite down on your plump shiny lips to keep the whines in — kageyama presses a wet chaste kiss to the back of your arousal soaked hand and then shuffles to sit back on his haunches. kicking off his briefs and other clothes, he knees on his bed — fighting the urge to blush as you watch his cock spring free.

he stands tall, erect. tan tip flushed against his creamy pale skin as he leaks a fresh wave of precum all over his tense tummy. just as tobio takes a hold of himself, you push two fingers past the tight ring of your unused entrance — immediately curling them to find the familiar pleasure spots clinging to your sluice walls. like a biological instinct, his hips buck upwards, looking for friction to ease the burn in his erection — blood carrying lusty hormones straight to his leaky tip, keeping him hard.

he’s begging to be touched and you need some motivation.

scissoring your dainty digits, you work yourself open — fucking your cunt silly, faster and faster the less nervous you become in front of your lover. “t-tobio!” you slur, lashes fluttering against your cheeks while you drench yourself in your own slick. your juices begin to splash against the insides of your supple thighs, wetting them like your tongue wets your lips as you lick them — hungrily waiting for kageyama to do something. anything. “tobi…please! n-need to see you…d-do it too…”

“well since you asked so nicely, my love,” the prince finally takes to palming himself, rolling the pad of his thumb over his blazing mushroomed tip — tapping at the string of precum gathering in its centre. he uses it as lube, squeezing himself to the ruthless rhythm of your cunt spasming around your fingers. matching your pace as if to mimic the way he’s going to fuck you. he looks so pretty and flushed — it pulls whistle tone bleats from between your trembling lips. his midnight blue and stormy eyes cloud with desire at every sound you and your slick hole make, those very sounds thick like molasses as they run through his ears. rotting kageyama from the inside out.

a house of pleasure built by bricks of bliss builds up at the base of your spine — cemented together and supported by tobio’s constant praise and encouragement. a little faster love. such a good girl. ride those pretty little fingers for me. you’re driven by the sight of his dick in his hand, jerking on it cor dear life and spreading webs of white up and down his shaft with each flick of his wrist. his balls are heavy; loaded with cum that he’s saved all for you; it’s predecessor smeared thickly over his thighs and sheets. maybe you stare for a little too long, locking eyes with the prince carnally, because he laughs over the erotic sounds of your squelching sexes and unified moans.

“it’s fair in size, i know,” he says gruffly, gritting his perfect white teeth — stopping his mouth from watering at your body jerking and your fingers that pull out of your tight heat to trace the length of your juicy slit. “but i’ll make it fit on our wedding night,” kageyama thrusts upwards just as your two of your digits sink back into your creamy clenching cunt. “that’s a promise…fuuuck…”

tears tiptoe over the edge of your waterline in response to the filth pouring from tobio’s mouth, streaking a hot part down the apples of your cheeks that now glisten under the high moon. “that’s what i want; for you to fill me… like no one else,” you sour over the saliva pooling in your mouth — no better than the man himself as you tease your thoroughly fucked cunt, bearing down on your own g-spot. “w-would you… will you cum inside?” you ask over the lewd sounds echoing from your squishy insides as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form the perfect melody with kageyama’s rough groans and laments, increasing in octave the deeper your digits reach into your pussy.

your elbows threaten to give out and kageyama can tell that you’re trying so hard to sit up and watch him. pride swells in his chest at your vision, a hand between your pudgy thighs and your salacious curves all on display just for him. your skin; marked with beautiful scars and stretch marks glimmering with a light layer of perspiration. you’re perfect, like an angel sent from heaven to watch over him. and he’s so lucky to have found you. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you. if i creamed that princess cunt of yours, filled you with my seed. bred you until you were carrying an heir. all. for. me.” punctuating his horny rambling, the prince bucks his hips into his soiled fist — stuttering as he goes. “got s-such a filthy mouth on you love, you’ll ruin me with it.”

he’s close. the both of you are. if tobio kageyama falls from grace now, you’ll be right there with him.

you nod rapidly, holding back a choked sob as the bedding below your shaking legs darkens from how your juices spill everywhere. “i want your heir, i want your seed, i want your…oh gods!” tipping your head back, the tail end of your words die in a high pitched squeal that dances in the buzzing air between you. everything burns with how close your release is. you drag your forehand up to your bare chest to you with your nipples — tugging on them harshly. anything to impress your lover, get him close too.

“want my what?” the dark haired prince howls, squeezing the base of his girth. “so greedy and you’re not even a princess yet. punish yourself for me, love. smack that pretty pussy for me — s’pecially if you won’t finish your words.” tobio’s words waft over your mind like a fog over a swamp, pulling a veil of impurity over any remaining thoughts you might have had. dopamine crackles around in your emptied skull, twirling around the ring of your fluttering hole. you gush and gush and gush, pouring the royal family’s future riches out onto the bed like an endless stream of erotica when you pull out from your selfish heat. “come on, love, keep movin’ for me… slap that pretty princess cunt. make your prince proud.”

“tobio!” you mewl for the millionth time under the midnight moon and bring your hand down against your mound in a harsh slap, kageyama’s entire body shuddering at the loud wail you let out. like a songbird chirping for him in the morning. a stream of your juices fly up your arm, glaze the apex of your thighs like icing on a cake as a result. some even reaching the prince himself — drawing a languid lament from him. “s-so close…think i’m going to…”

you cut yourself off, spanking your pussy again and again and again until the prince’s head is heavy with the sound of your broken whines and pap of your sex replaying repeatedly in his mind. “oh you’re so good, so perfect for me love,” his cock twitches, an incredulous amount of his seed waiting for you. his lucky love, his beautiful betrothed, his princess to be. “me too, love. me too, me too, me too,” he’s right behind you, tobio trying to keep his cool and his movements steady but lasciviousness coagulates in the tone of his unsteady voice while he fucks his hand like a mock up of your pussy. “c’mere, beautiful. come here.”

despite commanding you, kageyama reaches you first — his lean frame collapsing over you as if to shield your sins from the world. the seedy tip of his cock presses hotly against the length of your slit, right over your fingers still moving swiftly over your throbbing cunt. you feel everything, overwhelmed by the humid air between your sweaty bodies — the prince’s lips as they capture yours and the pulsing veins twisting around his cock decoratively.

the dark haired heir to the thrown continues to gist the base of his erection — freehand grasping desperately onto the headboard to steady himself as his high quickly approaches. your own freehand finds purchase on the bag of his neck, toying with the damp baby hairs there while the two of you exchange loving, lasting lip-locks. tasting the affection and sweat on one another’s Cupid’s bows.

it’s this way that the two of you reach your climaxes. it hits you like a thunderstorm over an ocean, dragging you under the surface of white hot bliss. the bricks that were building high walls of pleasure in your lower tummy come crashing down with your orgasm — and you know then that they were either never steady or that tobio kageyama was the only one strong enough to break them down. you cum hard, juices splashing out onto the sheets, painting your lover’s shaft and expelling a musky sent into the heavy air. you scream as it washes over you — souring the man above you on.

“gods…fuck, my love. i love you, love you, love you.” tobio makes the fall not long after you, finishing himself off right over your clit — nudging his cockhead against your abused mound until viscous droplets of milky white cover it, seeping between your fat pussy lips. he cant help but look as he floods your slit with seed, choking on a moan at the sight and releasing the poor headboard from his clutches. “you’re so perfect,” he peppers your face with smooches, all of them gentle and carefully placed to soothe you. even as they cascade down your neck, sternum and eventually hover over your sensitive sex. “i c-can’t stop now, have to taste you.”

not a drop of cum, from you or from tobio, will be wasted tonight.

securing his grip on the globes of your ass, kageyama pulls you into his impatient and eager tongue. he starts by opening wide, slotting his mouth against the entirety of your ruined folds — immediately sucking all of the cum and juices from them and moaning as if they’re the first flavours to hit his tongue after being starved for a millennia. the vibrations make you spiral and arch from the bed, reaching for the high heavens. the tip of his tongue wriggles past your slick entrance, the movement eased by how your fingers stretched you out. it flickers in an upward motion, making you see stars like those of the Milky Way between sloppy and uncoordinated kisses.

he’s eating you out for not just your pleasure, but his own, hungry and rabid — filling you up as you cry and cry at the overstimulation. you taste so good, the prince will drink you dry if he has to. tobio slurps what you leak, pushing his saliva in and out of your messy hole while you keenly rut into his face — effectively covering his puffy lips and chin in liquid gold. your own face feels tight and hot, throat raw from moaning so loud.

your betrothed can't help but moan with you in tandem, whimpering pathetically at every roll of your cunt onto his tongue — forcing him to eat his cum out of you. “tobi, it feels… it feels—!” you pant and grasp at his sweaty hair — tugging him further into your cunt, making him wriggle deeper inside, against pleasure points you had no idea existed along your own ribbed walls. he latches onto your clit and rolls it between his teeth mercilessly until your nails are clawing at his scalp and the air in your throat escapes you.

rapture tears you apart and pieces you back together all in one — evident in the way your cunt gushes into his mouth like a fruitful stream. there’s no room to breathe or cope between kageyama’s tongue pinned to your clit and the content gripes he lets out between your soaked thighs. by now he’s probably cleaned his release from you, yours too but he doesn’t dare stop until he’s replaced the mess with a new orgasm from you.

briefly, the prince pulls away from your pussy — tied to you by a rope of cloudy elixir leaked from your hole. a mix of him and you. a visual representation of your union to one. “such a good girl,” he snarls so deep you hardly recognise, but it makes you clench around nothing — pushing cum you didn’t know was there out of your entrance. “chase that feeling, don’t let it go, love.” he goads, spreading your thighs apart even more just to watch the webs of your arousal form and break apart. “so messy… are you close for me, princess?”

you nod rapidly, tearily, and kageyama sighs dreamily, licking your lips at the sight of your mound glistening under the night’s natural light. he licks you up and down with fever and newfound video — focused on pushing you over the edge once more. the crown prince hooks his strong arms around your thighs and anchors you to his hot, hardworking mouth because he knows that you’re so shaky from the euphoria pulsing in your bloodstream that you’re too weak to do it on your own.

your betrothed tongues his words wetly into your overstimulated sex. “show me how messy you can get, princess. make my face wet with it. so sticky. so good.”

“c-cumming! tobio…please!” with a high pitched squeal, your release hits you just as the world around you fades to white and tobio is with you right the way through. his pink tongue flicks at your sluice sex hungrily, brushing over your g-spot to guide you to the other side of your high. it shoots out of you in clear streams, dousing the man between your legs in everything that belongs to you. like some form of ownership.

you screw your eyes shut to stop the static buzzing behind them. your jaw goes slack and your body falls limp, you tremble so hard that kageyama has to reach up and scoop you into his arms to calm you down. a soft grip tilts your chin towards him as he kisses you once again, allowing you to suck your own flavour from his tongue and eventually settles between your legs. hugging you close to him.

“i love you,” you bleat gently, finally coming to. how could you not. he’s your prince charming and he’s shown you that he feels the same.

kageyama shifts, expression melting into one of those special smiles for you. “i love you…”

for some reason, you feel the need to return the favour — reaching down between your bodies and intertwined limbs for his cock which you know is hardening again. but the dark haired prince is quick to grab your wrist, bringing it up to his swollen lips for a gentle kiss against your pulse point. “don’t,” he mutters against the skin there, tasting your sweat with a teasing lick. “sleep, my princess. we’ll have plenty of time to learn the rest later. on our wedding night, remember.”

the prince wriggles his eyebrows, eliciting sleepy and heartfelt laughter from you. “but—“

“an eternity, remember.” he reaches for your other hand and laces your fingers firmly. a reminder that he’s never leaving you. not now. not ever. “you are to be my wife, in my arms where you belong and away from your cruel past. i want you as you are and will teach you whatever you want to know. just rest, for now. sleep my love.”

you remain silent for just a moment, mind racing with a million things to say. though, for tonight, you settle on but one thing — despite having said it a million times tonight. “i love you, my prince.” you whisper tiredly, cupping his handsome face with adoration.

“and i, you. forever more, my princess.” your lover, tobio kageyama, parrots back to you tenderly. the clock strikes for once for an hour past midnight — indicating your new chance at life, that you’ve stayed at the ball beyond the twelfth stroke of the clock and you feel your eyes getting heavy, drifting off in your prince charming’s arms.

the end.

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onlyseokmins · 3 months ago

Text

ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.

Cold.

Lonely.

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged.

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage.

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge.

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present.

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes."

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand.

Was that love?

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice.

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes."

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed.

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption.

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his.

And still, he waits.

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?"

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright."

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too."

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to."

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself.

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him.

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut

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sweetinsaniiity · 2 months ago

Text

ateez as !mafia members

pairing: y/n x ot8 members (bullet format headcanon) genre/au: mafia!au, no smut, but still MDNI since there are depictions of violence (fitting for mafia members), though they are not explicitly described (warnings below), toxicity in relationships, falling in love, red flags, marriage, engagement, pregnancy, betrayal, deception, bank heist rating/warning: PG-18+ so MDNI!!! no smut (though there are hints of it), however the genre itself has mature settings, gun use, !daddy dom Hongjoong, mentions of sadism! Seonghwa, two-faced! Yunho, sociopath! Yeosang, Stockholm Syndrome! San, manipulative! Mingi, lunatic! Wooyoung, brutal! Jongho word count: 6K words (approximately 750 words per member) synopsis: Just Ateez in the mafia with their personalities and how they found love in the most unconventional manner. notes: I've been getting a lot of requests for mafia! Ateez and tbh, I've been itching to write something like this anyway while, spoiler alert, the second part of Sick, Little Games is ongoing. This was a plot for something else, but oh well. Enjoy! Warnings at the end. taglist: @ginger-mingi @0rangemilk @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos

networks: @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet @pirateeznet

HONGJOONG

The Sovereign; the head, the brains

pure evil because why the hell not?

honestly lacks empathy, he will get what he wants, come hell or high water

no nonsense bullshit leader, he is an extremely calculating, conniving and diabolical mastermind

he walks the talk and immediately takes action after making a bold decision without a second thought

always gets make fun of because of his height, but it's okay, they'd be dead by daylight

when getting information, he doesn't get involved. why?

because he's the one who taught everyone they needed to know, every bloody, gruesome detail

brilliant strategist and an absolute criminal genius, nothing gets past him

could off anyone or anything without any expression or remorse, whether they're innocent or not

there are rumours that Hongjoong had tied a cinder block on someone's foot and the tossed them in the ocean for information

or that perhaps he broke into prison alone to save Seonghwa and then broke back out without getting caught

we will never really know, but if it makes your skin crawl, then it's probably true

and speaking of Seonghwa, the other half of Matz, they built the mafia from scratch

feared by many but will burn the world to make his members happy

will sacrifice the world if it means being with them

or sacrifice Wooyoung if he gets pissed enough

but with how Wooyoung is, he'll end up sacrificing himself, instead

he will never, ever admit that he has a soft spot for the man, though

the others aren't any better either

but he'd tell himself, as long as he'd think of them as five year olds to begin with, being a leader becomes a bit easier

he meets you when he was in the pub one night and he saw you go in the bathroom

he was stunned and was immediately smitten

without thinking, he got up from his seat, went into the bathroom, locked the door, and waited for you

you were surprised and scared, obviously, but blushed when you realized that this was the guy that you've been eyeing all night

but you were too drunk to flirt back, so you ended up puking on his shirt

Hongjoong saw red, and in a fit of rage and lust, he demanded that you come home with him to make up for it

it was so embarrassing and the next year, you automatically remembered it when you woke up

you also woke up to a naked man who slept peacefully beside you and you were mortified, and you knew that this man was no normal man, so you couldn't make a move to leave

but it was okay, his demand to take you home turned into marriage after two years

!daddy dom

very demanding both in his profession and in bed

although you didn't agree on everything he did, you had no right to stop it, and if anything, you admired how he ran his empire

there has never been a time where left you unsatisfied not only in that area, but also in general when he has to get busy

not big on affection but loves holding hands, though he will never admit it

would get on his knees if you asked him to

8/10, approach him with caution

SEONGHWA

The Sadist; devil incarnate in looks and in action

causes as much pain as possible for his own benefit

not necessarily a schadenfreude, just extremely bitter and very goal-oriented

he doesn't hide the fact that he's a sadist, but he doesn't go around bragging about it

he just doesn't give a shit, he didn't invent the moniker

but Seonghwa never k*lls, ever

which makes things worse because he's a very patient man, he will get the information he needs even if it took him days or weeks

it prolongs his enemy's agony, in his mind, they'll eventually give in, and he's usually right

the other half of Matz

went to prison for Hongjoong because he wanted him to start Ateez immediately

he didn't mind prison, it was rather peaceful for him

if anything, it served as a turning point for his criminal life, he had made tons of connections, both by force and from his charm, and Hongjoong was less than surprised

if anyone was to grow their network, it was him because when God made Hongjoong, 95% was for his insane leadership and criminal mind, the rest was unknown

as a person, Seonghwa is cold and expressionless. the only time he shows emotions is when he's in an "operation"

he always gets his hands dirty, he would disable his enemies, but he would never end them

the fear of d*ath and the unknown is delicious, he said

it made him feel alive, or feel in general

he may not be the leader, but his members have a certain respect for him

except for Mingi. he does care for the taller member a lot, but Mingi made it his life's mission to annoy him as much as possible

and unfortunately for Mingi, his manipulation tactics don't work on him

"You think I'm an idiot?" Mingi would tease.

"Hardly. I think you posses above average intelligence," he would deadpan

you meet him when you tried to join the mafia

Seonghwa isn't a saint, but you're no angel either. you eliminated everyone trying out just so you could be on top

you didn't care if you cheated or crossed anyone, you had to be on top even if it killed you

and unknowingly, you had sparred with Seonghwa, and he lost

when you found out he was the Park Seonghwa, you were embarrassed because he had let you win on purpose

it hurt your ego, you had never lost before to anyone, and Seonghwa's smirk told you that he knew this

you trained under his wing, and slowly, you began to fall for him

he looks like he has never moved for anyone, like a panther, his moves are elegant, mysterious, and sleek

and you're the only he cares enough to hurt about, you were what truly made him feel alive rather than the blood that totaled his hands

at first, he rejected you, he didn't want romance to hinder him from his job and all of what came with it

you were heartbroken, but you accepted it, it made sense, falling in love wasn't in your cards, but you fell anyway

Seonghwa couldn't stay away from you, however, whenever he saw that you were making steps to move on, his heart would bleed

in the end, you won, because he did fall for you, he fell much, much harder

in fact, he had fallen for you way before you did, he just didn't want it fester in case it stopped him from being the ruthless Ateez leader

!possessive boi

so much so that he pretty much coerced you into a relationship, not that you minded, you thought it was hot

if he can't have you, then no one else can, he's going to make sure of it

a walking, talking, oversized red flag, but you're colour blind

the members often teased him for being whipped, he would just glare at everyone until they left

you always melted whenever he would pull you and gently kiss your on the forehead

in public, you'd both be very professional about the work, but when it's just the two of you, God knows how much you both can't keep your hands off of one another

9/10, approach at your own risk

YUNHO

The Serpent; a treacherous snake who will betray you

he's very friendly, like that of a small puppy, and may seem like he's very reserved

but make no mistake, Yunho excels in using psychological t***ure and will go to no end for his goals

behind his smiles is a brutal man who is worse than Seonghwa, for a man who is willing to betray anyone is very ruthless and powerful

when the enemies are getting interrogated, he often makes them believe that they are safe and that he's on their side

he will listen to them, bring them food and comfort items like clean clothes, clean pillows, and the likes, while they are detained

facade drops when he's done getting what he wants and destroys the enemy before they catch on

or when he's in an especially cruel mood, he would sometimes warns his enemies that he'd hurt them

the enemies would then panic while they're imprisoned, but Yunho would never do it. He would do this everyday until the prisoner goes insane waiting

but for the most part, Yunho typically let Hongjoong and Seonghwa handle all the bloody details, he had more penchant with the ones he had the settle some scores with, which was not common

he has a soft spot for Jongho because he's the only one who would shake his head at him when he got too far

Jongho would also be the one who'd tell him to cut his 'playtime' short because in his opinion, it's waste of time

he's so good at his act that the members don't even know his real personality sometimes

but Mingi, the other half of YunGi, does

they've been together all their lives, what's another life of crime? Only Mingi truly understands him

and you did too, you knew Yunho for who he really was and he absolutely loved you for it

Yunho and Mingi were childhood friends who had moved away when you were in middle school

you had the biggest crush on Yunho and you never forgot him even after all those years, and apparently, neither did he

one day when Yunho robbed a bank and held everyone hostage, his breath was caught in his lungs when he saw the fear in your eyes as you held your hands up

at first you weren't sure, but when you took a closer look at the man who had decided to rob the bank you worked at, you couldn't help but grasp

he completely aborted the heist and took you with him instead, much to Mingi's surprise

you didn't want a criminal for a boyfriend, but unfortunately for you, Yunho worked on his facade

he did everything to win you over, be it flowers, clothes, jewelry, etc.

you were going to fall for him all over again if it's the last thing he'll ever do, he had no idea why he was doing it or why it had to be you, but it had to be

you always frowned at him, he can't buy your love, so he changed his tactics, he began to cook, massage your back, rub your feet, and do every acts of service he could think of

and his hugs were always the tightest

Yunho was close, all he had to do was just do whatever it was that made you squirm, and behind all the sociopathy, he was genuinely happy that you were seeing him for who he was

you fell in love with the facade and he dropped it when you did, but it was too late

you knew in your head, that you shouldn't, but you couldn't help it

you didn't mind, he treated you like a princess and he was so sweet, and deep down, you knew Yunho was a good man

but was he?

every time Yunho thought about, he couldn't but smirk as a chuckle bubbled up from his chest

but he did really love you, he's always had, there's no doubt about it, how could he not when you're the most beautiful person he's ever laid his eyes on?

that love is based on his own standards, though, and you shall never find out, he'd rather end you than let you go

9/10, if you value your sanity, keep your distance

YEOSANG

The Resistance; he refuses to do bad by choice

he prefers to stay in the shadows because he doesn't believe that violence is a one and done all deal

he's more of a backup just in case things get messy

one could say that he's a pacifist, a peace monger of some sorts,

a very cunning and calculating person, however, when his patience runs thin or worse, out

has a very deceptive face that he uses to his advantage and he usually looks calm

but he's a true sociopath with no true open compassion with very warped beliefs

equally as psychotic as the others, if not worse

the others are very upfront about their brutality and violence

but Yeosang pretends that he doesn't like violence because of his disconnect with the world

but when he does get violent, the hair on everyone's arms rise

even Hongjoong is sometimes horrified of his actions, believing that he originally had good intentions, but lost them along the way

his pacifism is for the greater good, at least in his mind, but he definitely goes too far with his wickedness and delusions of grandeur

one time, he watched Yeosang interact with their enemies and he became very unsettled

he was just talking to them as if it was just a normal day

until he heard Yeosang say, "This is a brawl. I'll let the last man standing go free."

both of them watched as the enemies started betraying and eliminating each other until the strongest man was left

Hongjoong raised a brow when Yeosang offed the last man and he asked him why

"I don't like people with no honour," Yeosang shrugged. "He has no loyalty to his team."

Jongho, his best friend, wasn't at all surprised at how twisted Yeosang's logic was

they both decided to send him to a mental hospital for the time being to sort himself

that's a lie, the last thing the police would look for to find a criminal was in a mental hospital

and that's where he met you, he couldn't help but wonder why someone as sweet and innocent as you would be doing here

you never did tell him your reason, but he didn't care, he slowly lost his mind when he realized that he liked your company

when you saw him, you thought he was cute, until you found out that he was actually crazy in the head

that didn't stop you from hanging out with him though because you were curious why he was always alone

Yeosang mentioned that he has a violent background and he was pleased when you just shrugged and said that everyone lives differently and some things that are right for others may not be for another

he knew then and there that he had to have you

imagine Hongjoong's surprise when he picked up Yeosang and he threatened him that he'll remove the mental hospital from existence if you didn't come along

and he actually would, all you had to do was say the word

the leader sighed when all you did was smile at him, looks like Yeosang found someone to tether him down

the way Yeosang was looking at you as if you'd tell him to actually to burn the hospital was endearing and so Yeosang coded

8.5/10, just don't get in his way

SAN

The Assassin; the indestructible gladiator

if a job or task seems difficult, consider it done when it comes to San

the perfect machine, he will do everything and anything that is asked of him without questioning whether or not they're moral or ethical

he's very by-the-book and indifferent, his cruelty depends on who's asking and it ranges from tame to absolute destruction

extremely skilled at hiding his atrocities and never leaves behind any evidence

which is why he is Seonghwa's favourite member

because a psychopath following a psychopath always ends well for everybody

despite his rugged appearance, San is very quick-witted and very scheming, especially when he's about to get caught

second to Yeosang in making himself try to look normal in public

the only difference being that he is very hollow and he doesn't have a sense of entitlement in what he does

San is not interested in knowing why his tasks are the way they are nor why he has to do them while Yeosang only does them if he think there's some greater good in them

the sooner he does what is asked of him, the less headache he has

because he's perfectly aware that he's a tool for the mafia to use for their own benefit and he's perfectly fine with that

his platonic soulmate, Wooyoung, is trying to dissuade him from this line of thought, he's deeply saddened that that's how San thinks of himself

the tattoo on his thigh remind him of that everyday

he saw you for the first time when Seonghwa had instructed him to eliminate you because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time

at first it wasn't a problem so he kidnapped you in broad daylight

when San took the mask he had put on your face and took a closer look at you, his biggest problem started then and there

he had never seen someone so small, so pure, and so utterly scared of him

he couldn't do it, he couldn't eliminate you, especially not with his own hands, his heart wasn't letting him move at all

for the first time in his life, he felt the need to disobey

it was love at first sight, so after explaining to you honestly why he had to do it, you halfheartedly went into hiding in his house

he lied to Seonghwa that you were gone, and the older wasn't convinced, but regardless, he let it go for now

it was certainly a new arrangement for both of you, you were angry because you knew he put a hit on you

your greedy brother sold you to the mafia so before you changed your mind, you told San to do whatever he wanted with him

San smirked, for all the people he took orders from, yours was the one who made his heart sing

one day, Seonghwa visited San's house by surprise after a couple of months, he was shocked that you not only were you alive and well, but you were now playing house

so San does the most insane thing he could do, he proposed to you in front of a jaw-slacked Seonghwa

Seonghwa almost had an aneurysm when San came clean, mafia morals states that it's taboo to touch a member's partner

it wasn't difficult for you to say yes, you had come to love San for who he was although it was difficult at first

he was a gentle lover, and you didn't care what he was or what he's done, San's loving and caring personality made up for it

you two would stargaze on his roof as you both held hands, sometimes he would put a rom-com movie to make you happy, or he would plan a picnic just for the two of you

being engaged to San was the best decision of your life

you genuinely love the way he was, killing machine and all, but you couldn't help but fall in love with him more

especially with how attentive he was on your needs, especially adjusting to the mafia life

his kisses were definitely the sweetest

9/10, you'll be safe as long as someone doesn't put a price on your head

MINGI

The Politician; his silver tongue can make pigs fly

he has the ability to gain control in literally any situation because of the power he exudes

very charming and very dangerous because of his impeccable confidence towards himself

as charming as he is, he is mostly mad, intimidating and mad

smooth talker, he can get away with justifying his atrocities

he is a textbook diplomat, he can talk his way to get whatever he wants, whenever he wants, from whoever he wants

him and San made a deadly combination, one did whatever anyone wanted and the other can convince the enemy that being dead was good

Mingi's charisma is something to be trifled with, everybody wishes to shoot him but somehow find themselves compelled to not do so

highly intelligent and loves to manipulate people for fun to make himself appear more trustworthy, much like his childhood best friend, Yunho

in actuality, he is a heartless, psychopathic animal who would do anything to conform his sick-minded personality

when he's irritated, he'd violently force others into unfair deals sometimes for the mafia, sometimes because he's bored

expert extortionist, by the time the enemy realizes that they've been made to say and do whatever Mingi wanted, it's too late

there is no backing out because Mingi has no problem ending people who waste his time

he has no mercy, because unlike the other members, he eliminates swiftly, he doesn't care about playing games

his members, especially Seonghwa, Yunho, and Wooyoung, loved playing with their victims, Mingi did not

he also eliminates for absolutely no reason but for his entertainment and his intimidating aura helps him in this regard

as a person, Mingi is actually rather chill

San said that if he didn't know how deadly Mingi was, he would have killed him a long time ago with hoe annoyingly chill he was

"Look at this schmuck," San would scoff. "Doesn't even look like he can shoot a gun."

"Wanna find out?" Mingi shrugged. "Your muscles ain't shit."

and that's how he won against an angry San, who was blinded by his annoyance, when he smacked the gun out of San's hand

things like these always come easy to him, all he had to do was exploit their weakness and use it against them

and it was how he almost has you in the palm of his hand, all you had to do was surrender to him

he hadn't mean to see you, one day he was out with Yunho for coffee and when they were about to leave, you passed him and your scent was captivating

one thing that made his brows raise was that, yes, his manipulation worked on you, but something didn't sit well with him

you felt like the prettiest girl whenever Mingi would shower you with gifts and loads of attention

he was your type of guy - tall with jaws craved by God, body slim and hips begging to be held - he was a dreamboat in your eyes

sooner or later, what turned out to be curiosity on his end, transformed into an unhealthy obsession

you were his, whether you liked it or not, whether you knew it or not

and so you rejected him when he confessed his want for you, which absolutely shocked him, all you did was smirk, you had him where you wanted him

but it was your turn to be shocked when he smirked, all the obsession he showed, the attitude, the gazes, the confession, he had you where he wanted you

you couldn't help but laugh when you realized at how you manipulated each other, but Mingi was starstruck

you weren't complaining much, he had the most dominating hold on you, and if you escaped from him, you'd pay, because you can always run, but you never hide from him

10/10, do not approach

WOOYOUNG

The Hedonist; disorder and havoc are what makes him fully function

wholeheartedly believes that chaos is the only solution to peace

the most deranged out of everybody, his mania has no limit because unlike the others, his violence brings him pure pleasure

is the most headache-inducing member because of his impulsiveness and inconsistent cruelty, which makes him one of the most frightening members

he can be very cruel, and when he is, his methods are very, very slow and prolongs the agony of his victims until they beg him to just end them

sometimes they're so fast that his enemies don't know what hit them

- the master of prolonging his victims and playing with his food before devouring them

it all depends on his mood, but the point is, his unpredictability is what makes him very dangerous

he is highly capable of hurting everyone without hesitation due to his lack of restraint

however, what sets Wooyoung apart is his high impulse control, this means he can control himself on command

what makes him especially dangerous is that he is completely aware of what he's doing and he knows that consequences of his actions, he just doesn't care

in short, Wooyoung is absolutely crazy and not in his right mind

it was technically his fault why Yeosang was as unstable as he was, but he thought to himself, he was doing his friend a favour

"Have you ever regretted meeting me?" Wooyoung grinned.

"Every single day of my life," Yeosang scoffed.

sulking, he dragged San with him so they could get a tattoo together, later, he offed the tattoo artists for agreeing with him and not bothering to stop his decision

he was surprised that San didn't even protest, but that was his closest friend so he won't argue

when Yeosang was sent for damage control, the man just face palmed himself and left, deciding that he'd rather get punished by his leaders than involve himself in this mess that is Jung Wooyoung

but make no mistake, as demented and highly unstable as he is, he is Hongjoong and Seonghwa's right hand man and the members respect that

though they are close to ousting him and the members are very, very close on making a petition to demote him

brilliant planner, he plans his attacks in advance, as impulsive as he is, he always prefers tactical planning rather than facing his enemies face on

after all, his strategic mind was what led him to plan and steal you from your home

you were the enemies daughter, and Wooyoung's insanity knew no bounds because for all the things he had made plans for, your capture was the one that made his skin tingle and his blood run fast

but you can't change a leopard's spots, despite all his planning, Wooyoung ended up climbing your window at night so he can see you

you were half naked as you prepared for sleep, but you ended up screaming so loud when you saw a shadowy figure climb your roof

he quickly covered your mouth and you both his under the sheets when your father came in the room

you sheepishly told him that you saw a bug fly in from the window and got surprised, in the end, he bought the excuse and left

"Hello, princess," Wooyoung smirked as he traced your skin with his finger

you squirmed, you knew Wooyoung's fascination for you and at first it irked you, but only because both of you were in a Romeo and Juliet situation

you have always been attracted to him, and he knew it, but you couldn't do anything about it

months and months after that, he still kept pursuing you and it got so bad that he would purposefully pick a fight with your father just so he could have an excuse to see you

your father was livid, it wasn't really a secret how much of an absolute lunatic Wooyoung was in the mafia world

however, even he couldn't deny how intelligent Wooyoung was and how his operations were always a guaranteed success with no loose ends

Wooyoung being with you had more pros than cons and at the end of the day, your father was a businessman

when your father had requested a meeting with Ateez and proposed a merge, they had agreed after both sides presented their thoughts

your father hissed at Wooyoung to hold his horses when he tried to grab you

imagine everyone's surprise when Wooyoung said this merge would have happened anyway, because you were already four months pregnant

9.8/10, intelligence and insanity would bring the apocalypse

JONGHO

The Liar; the most complex out of them all

while everyone focuses on being out there in action and extracting what they need to know, Jongho preferred to be in the side lines

not that he didn't know how to be out there, rather, they don't want him in there

Jongho is extremely cruel, and what the other members are good at, he's twice as brutal

he's twice as sadistic as Seonghwa, the only difference is that he doesn't get pleasure in hurting, twice as deceptive as Yunho, though not as arrogant about it, and he's twice as manipulative as Mingi

a lot of their enemies always underestimated Jongho and it only made him smirk

he always looked calm, emotionless, and nonchalant most of the time, it's usually this time where Jongho strikes

an exceptionally clever and absolutely cunning criminal genius and is most similar to Mingi - he doesn't like to play with his victims

his bloodthirst has does not accept limit, it's to the point that fellow member, Yunho, once suggested that the mafia may not even be enough to satisfy his bloodthirsty ravaging

with all of that being said, Yunho had took it upon himself to pull Jongho out of the action

"Goddamn it, Jongho, so much blood," Yunho clicked his tongue in annoyance when he saw that the enemy was long gone. "What did you use?"

when he lifted up a frying pan, Yunho's mouth drops, how much force had it taken for Jongho to produce this much blood with that?!

instead, he became the interrogator, and he is in charge of extracting even the hardest information he can get

which is fine by him, he's sick of being told off by his leaders about his brutality anyway, he owes no one an explanation

Jongho doesn't like to get his hands dirty, most of the time he can manipulate someone or force even an entire group to give him what he wants without lifting a finger

so now, Jongho's content with sticking to the question, the physical and psychological t**t**ing was his members' forte

however, even some of the members fear him, it isn't like Seonghwa where it's fear out of respect

some enemies are hard nuts to crack, and this is when Jongho enters, they call their last resort

easily the most dangerous and spine-chilling member, he doesn't get involved in all the brutality now, but when he does, they're very vile

they're so vile and atrocious that Hongjoong had instructed that only the worst of the worst should be brought to Jongho

his best friend, Yeosang, tried to contest this verdict, but to no avail, even he knew how bad it can get with Jongho

of course, the higher the peak, the harder the fall, and in most cases on his end, it's pure, unadulterated rage

this is Jongho's biggest weakness as it causes him fatal flaws of mistakes that are very much crucial

like that one time you callously kicked him out of the local library

despite his ruthlessness, he actually loved reading and gaining knowledge on the most mundane of things

so when you started your new job there, of course, he took notice of you, how could he not?

you were something worth reading, you were an enigma that tempted him to read further on, but he stopped himself, he wasn't all evil - you were innocent, his life wasn't for you

you looked so sweet, he didn't want to corrupt you, but oh, did he want to so badly

his thoughts were interrupted with a phone call from Yeosang, and the next thing he knew, he was seething in anger outside

in your defense, you didn't mean to, you took notice of him too and you cheeks blushed all the time, you panicked and didn't mean to kick him out

you were going to pay for this, he thought, and so he had this brilliant plan of following you into your apartment

you were about to close the door when his foot stopped it and he squeezed his way in, you didn't even have time to be surprised, he left before he could do anything

"Dude, you're an idiot, that isn't how you pick up girls," Yeosang snickered in delight

"Rich coming from the guy that met his girl in the nut hut," he snapped

in the end, he did man up and apologized to you the next day, and to Jongho's surprise, you invited him to your place for coffee

you confessed that you had a bit of a crush on him, this straightforward attitude made his heart skip and he tried to dissuade the confession

but you surprised him more when you admitted that you knew what he was and what he does,

you were the daughter of a man who owed money to Ateez, and your father did end up paying all of it back, but Mingi wanted him gone anyway

Jongho decided to let him go since he did do his end of the bargain

it was absolutely wrong, you couldn't get him out of your head, and when you were about to forget him, he suddenly showed up at your new job

you eventually found out that his love was the most genuine

he wasn't the biggest fan of physical affection, but he did love showering you with it the best he could

he loved fixing your hair for you when it got windy, he loved patting your head and then leaning in to give you nose boops

the way he listened when you talked without making it about himself, it meant a lot to you

or when he would eat your favourite food with him even though the food you liked wasn't his cup of tea

or perhaps when he automatically removed food from your plate that he knew you hated

your favourite was when he would hold your hand under any table, or any hidden physical contact

10/10, extremely dangerous, do not approach at all costs

𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: please do not take this seriously. This is not a representation of the Ateez members in real life and this is not a go-signal for anybody to fulfill this type of fantasy. This is figment of this author's wild imagination to share with anyone and it shall stay that way.

𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜: @thecutestgrotto

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andypantsx3 · 1 year ago

Text

TODOROKI SHOUTO : MASTERLIST

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

shouto writing tag | universal masterlist

MULTI-CHAPTER

ready or knot (est. 24K) : in progress

Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you...

something in the water (est. 24K) : in progress

As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems.

fingerprints (38K) : complete

When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.

vested interest (19.5K) : complete

You’d just thought Shouto was absent minded, accidentally leaving behind a jacket or a sweater or his vest. You didn’t realize this was a thing. (In which Todoroki Shouto—despite his quirk—has zero chill, and uses his clothes to ward off other men.)

if i could keep cool (20K) : complete

A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

[smutty one shot follow on: say the word and you know i'll follow]

Deceiving the Duke (30K) : complete

When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a lady’s maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

in cinders (25K) : complete

You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate. (A Cinderella AU)

when i make you mine (24K) : complete In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces.

conspire (13K) : complete

Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

subtle (4.5K) : complete

Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

demon prince au (various): ongoing

Things seem to going well with the prince of hell you've accidentally taken home. Until a surprise visitor makes an appearance, and Shouto must take action to stake his claim on you.

ONE SHOTS

mr. tokyo beat hottest hero (3.8K)

Shouto finds out he’s hot. He swiftly uses this knowledge against you.

on ice (2.6K)

Your pro hero boyfriend ices you to the counter and has his way with you.

pretty boy (4.1K)

You have strong feelings about Shouto’s scar. Shouto finds them…surprising.

slip (2.5K) - gn!reader

No one knows who the villain Shouto really is, or what he wants with Endeavor. All you know is that you never should have drawn his notice.

just my (blood) type (5.3K)

The real Halloween treat was how sinfully handsome Todoroki Shouto looked in his vampire costume. But that wouldn’t be enough to save him from the petty wrath of one drunk lobster. (In which you suffer deeply, wingwoman a friend, and pick a fight with the hottest boy at UA.)

loads of fun (2.8K) - gn!reader

After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he comes home to you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled.

home, safe, yours (2K) - gn!reader

After a rough day, you take care of your pro hero boyfriend.

happy edgings (1K)

Shouto discovers a new concept and quickly sets about mastering it. You either benefit or suffer, depending on how you look at it.

confetti confessions (2.3K)

A slight misunderstanding at Shouto’s birthday party achieves unexpected results.

in any universe (1.7K) - gn!reader

Shouto is the prince of an alien species that mates for life—which surely has absolutely nothing to do with you, the little human cadet deployed with the treaty party to his planet.

if you let me (2.2K)

Disguised as a eunuch in the imperial palace, a mistake on your part leads to your unmasking before the prince. By rights it should mean your death, but Prince Shouto seems to have another plan in mind...

balm (2.2K) - gn!reader

You help rub down your boyfriend's muscles after a grueling shift. And then, a little more.

damage (1.6K)

When you get hit by a quirk, Shouto gets protective. Idiocy ensues.

peony for your thoughts (2.1K) - gn!reader

Florist AU: You enter Shouto’s flower shop, and leave with a little bit more than you expected.

say the word and you know i’ll follow (3.3K)

While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

[a smutty one shot sequel to if i could keep cool]

DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS

a/b/o au (0.5K)

You think Todoroki Shouto is so pretty he has to be an omega. You quickly find out you are very, very wrong.

dragon au drabble series (various lengths)

You accidentally bring home a dragonling one day. He grows up...possessive.

seven minutes in heaven (1K)

Shouto is unfamiliar with a well-known game.

todobakureader domestic fluff (1K)

The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.

turn the heat up (0.7K)

On a lazy afternoon, your boyfriend Shouto is up to no good.

priceless (0.8K)

You get weird around all the expensive things in Shouto's apartment. Shouto shows you what's truly priceless to him.

kabedon (1.7K)

Shouto learns what kabedonning is. You benefit.

wrong address (0.6K)

A mistake leads pro hero Shouto to your door. You promptly embarrass yourself.

attention (0.6K)

“You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

melt (1K)

“What? Does that feel good?”

drunk shouto (0.7K)

Shouto gets handsy when he's drunk.

pet names (0.3K)

Shouto figures out you like pet names and sets about abusing his newfound power.

marked up (0.7K)

Shouto goes little shit mode. You (and Class A) suffer.

#character: todoroki shouto #andie's writing

1K notes · View notes

rwby-encrusted-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Inspired by @pilot-boi's Fusion AU!

Warning now for talking about suicidal ideation, self harm, and self loathing. And mentions of Vomit.

None of it is explicitly detailed.

~~~~~

The Wildfire Knight had been in the Ever After their whole … Life? Existence. Whatever one would call this desperate act of survival. Jaune and Cinder both cringed and recoiled at the fact their fusion was a person. Maybe it was the Ever After, Maybe it was the fact The Wildfire Knight had time to develop into a person from them both. Nen was almost a person with how close and reliant Ren and Nora were on each other.

Stars Fell. Four of them.

RWBY.

Hurt Them.

Help Them!

Kill them!

Save them. Please.

Cinder was angry. She usually was. it was often the only choice she had, and all three knew it (Cinder almost hated that the most.) She’d calm down soon. Jaune could negotiate with her.

They shook their head clear of the other’s thoughts, and hopped on Jewels.

Jaune wanted to call it Juniper, Cinder was defiant. She didn’t want to give it name and was half-tempted to kill the Jackalope just to hurt Jaune.

Cinder suggested the name Emerald for all the wrong reasons.

They settled on Jewels.

Cinder and Jaune wanted to be out of here - first take care of RWBY (Whoever won out at what that meant), and then try and leave. That was always the goal. The Wildfire Knight was scared they might die when it happened. Jaune was open about feeling the same way. Cinder was more guarded about it, as she always had been, but in raw, open moments, Jaune and Wildfire knew she cared.

Wildfire was reliant on Jaune’s survival knowledge, tactics, and most importantly, his kindness. They also relied on Cinder's skills in fighting, her ability to be both shrewd and deceptive, and, most strongly, her unending will to survive.

Their leg hurt. Their lack of a leg hurt. Their missing eye stung slightly. It all always did.

Cinder wanted freedom, but was bound to Jaune.

Jaune wanted to protect his friends. Cinder was only able to comprehend actually caring for someone after the first decade or so. After Wildfire came about.

Wildfire wanted to live. For RWBY. For JNPR. Because Cinder couldn’t just die, not after all the work she put in.

Wildfire hated themself at first. Because Jaune and Cinder hated each other. Because Jaune and Cinder Hated themselves. Because They were Jaune and Cinder.

It was only because they had Cinder’s need to survive that they didn’t kill themself. They did, however, hurt themself. Jaune’s self-sacrificial tendencies and his need to be punished for the mistakes he thought he made, and Cinder’s feelings of never being strong enough, and that weakness deserved to be punished.

The scars on their arms burned, like they did when they were fresh.

They thought back to the first time They did something for themself- Cinder and Jaune were arguing about Alyx - they’d just been poisoned and left to die. It was loud. Too loud. They needed to leave. To clear their head - the Herbalist was too raw, too recent - they tried to tear each other apart.

So The Wildfire Mage Walked.

And Walked.

And eventually stumbled into cool, clear water.

Cinder and Jaune were surprised - too caught up in their argument to notice their vessel had been moving.

Someone New was here - no. They’d always been there. They’d just woken up.

Wildfire was shook from their thoughts at the noise of fighting, immediately whipping out Corcea Ignis - Crocea Mors’ shattered blade extended and reformed with Obsidian Glass into a Cutlass-esque form, the the shield expanding in front of them as they charged into battle on the back of Jewels.

~~~~~

Meeting in the lotus with Rwby caused Wildfire to be pushed back by Jaune’s - and as loathe as she was to admit it, Cinder’s - relief at RWBY - the real, living, breathing team RWBY.

The four of them were, of course, shocked when they saw “Jinder” Weiss being the most surprised.

It didn’t get any better as the situation was explained.

~~~~~

The Paper Pleasers were gone. The only stable thing outside of themselves was gone. The ones that Jaune Protected, the ones that Cinder commanded, the closest things to friends Wildfire had - They were gone. Just like that.

Ruby screamed at them. At Jaune. At Cinder. She didn’t acknowledge Wildfire as a part of them. That might’ve been the worst.

All of Them were angry at Ruby. They’d suffered. They’d all suffered. Jaune’s hope and love was betrayed, Cinder’s rage was Reignited, Wildfire’s fear of not being anything but a mistake was getting thrown in their face.

He could never be a hero.

She was Weak.

They didn’t matter to anyone.

He was a killer.

She was a Failure.

They were nothing.

Anger reacted with Anger, reacted with Anger, reacted with Anger, and it coiled in on itself ever further.

An eye lit with golden fire.

A fist was swung.

Ruby was knocked to the ground several feet away.

Gambol Shroud wrapped around their midsection, yanking them back, Yang gappled their arms behind them, and an Arma Gigas as white as the Atlesian Tundra got between Them and Ruby.

“EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH FALLS APART! EVERYTHING YOU TRY AND SAVE CRUMBLES!”

“Mercury Stopped you from saving Penny the first time- You were too slow, Too WEAK- The Paper Pleasers were all I had! The JabberWalkers Followed YOU, Because Neo HATES YOU- THEY WERE LIKE ME- MADE BY THIS PLACE- You Don’t get to act like they’re NOTHING-”

Wildfire, Cinder, and Jaune Spoke over themselves. Over each other, their anger feeding on each others, till their voices broke with pain and at the emotions pouring over themselves.

Three Souls in one body was an awful lot to handle. They stopped straining against WBY and collapsed to their knees, heaving and shaking. “We’re not right - I know I’m broken pieces - We just want to live - You’re suppose to care about people- to care about us-”

The three of them fell into each other, the distinctions between Jaune and Cinder and Wildfire collapsing.

They were crying. They were numb. They were sore. They’d hurt their friend. She deserved it. That wasn’t true. They were Weak, not good enough. That was true. Wasn’t that true? Weren’t they powerful?

They were all exhausted.

The three of them vomited.

They fell over, just out of range of the puddle they made, curled up as they clutched their head, and they cried.

When they finally opened their eyes again, Weiss was sat nearby, petting and consoling Jewels.

No one said anything.

Weiss eventually moved over to them.

“Hey. That was a lot, and I’m certain there’s been a lot going on in, but Ruby’s in trouble it sounds like. It’s urgent. Can get to her quickly on a summon, and I need to get going now. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”

Weiss Summoned the Lancer Queen, and started getting on it.

Jaune Urged them all to stand, out of guilt and a need to protect, even if he was still upset. Wildfire knew Ruby didn’t know them, not in the ways that distinguished them from other fusions. They felt guilty and a need to make it up to Ruby. They propped themself up on their knees. Cinder, in her own odd way, had respect for Ruby. She was a survivor as much as she was a thorn in her side. Even she felt a smidge of guilt for much of what she’d done - guilt tempered with the ‘knowledge’ it was the only way for her to survive. She helped them up.

The three of them climbed onto Jewel’s back and chased after Weiss.

~~~~~

When they Arrived, Ruby was lifting the Teacup to her mouth.

Cinder hit her with a fireball, splashing the tea on the floor and sending Ruby Tumbling again, a burn on her upper chest.

They cringed at the harm.

The cat Lunged at her.

Yang Lunged at the cat, blocking it.

Neo lunged at Ruby as well.

She was knocked away by icicles from Weiss.

The Wildfire Knight Ran to Ruby, Guarding her with their body and applying Jaune’s semblance to her.

Ruby Batted at them, scurrying away with tears in her eyes.

They cried out an apology.

Neo slashed across their back.

Blake tried to wrap her ribbon Around Neo.

She shattered into glass.

There was a fight.

Eventually the fusion’s aura broke, The Ever After keeping them from falling apart.

The Curious Cat raised a claw, prepared to kill, Neo coming in from behind.

They were Going to die. Jaune was Going to die. Cinder was going to die.

In the moment they couldn’t be mad. Cinder didn’t like it, not one bit, she was rather peeved about it, but … There was something about not having to fight anymore that let her let go.

Wildfire figured they’d get an answer on what they were - Living or just a means for Jaune and Cinder’s survival.

Jaune saved his friends. Now that he was actually faced with his death he didn’t like it, in a very personal manner. He realized just how horribly wanting to die felt.

But there was nothing the three of them could do.

He was strong enough to protect his Friends.

She wasn’t strong enough to survive on her own, by making enemies, seeing as how it came back to bite her, but she was Strong. Strong enough to protect others, something she’d never thought she’d do.

They meant something. They’d been the one keeping Jaune and Cinder alive, and it was their body that saved Ruby.

So they “Held Hands,” Being completely open about how the three of them felt, and embraced the end together.

None of them expected to feel so weightless.

~~~~~

They found themselves … somewhere.

Somewhere.

There was a tall person in front of a grinding wheel, sharpening … Crocea Mors?

The person looked over their shoulder, setting the weapon into its sheath and walking over to The Wildfire Knight.

“I am happy to see you three after so long. I am the Blacksmith of the Ever After. You are welcome in this place.”

The three were confused.

“Did we die?”

“No, not in the way you may be thinking. You are ascending. I will say, however, that you are a unique case - usually I only find one to help at a time more than enough.”

They grimaced a little at that, sheepish at being different. “S-sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. In fact, something new is quite welcomed!” The Blacksmith was grinning widely.

It was comforting.

“Now, I unfortunately cannot separate you three myself - You have been entwined for too long, and it is only you that may decide where one of you ends and the next begins.”

The Knight looked and the Blacksmith, confused.

“Separate? We may separate?”

“Yes, if you would like.”

Jaune and Cinder both “Jumped” at the idea - but were held back by something. They’d been together for so long, what would it be like to be apart now? What would Happen with Wildfire?

The Blacksmith produced a small knife from their apron.

Alyx’s Knife.

“She left this piece of herself for you, when she left. I know it may seem daunting, but as I said I cannot do this for you. You must decide if and how you come apart, and who gets what from yourselves.”

Wildfire took the knife.

Cinder Trusted them. They had her drive to survive.

Jaune was worried, but also relented. They all had to be in agreement on this.

The three of them plunged the knife into their stomach.

~~~~~

Wildfire Blinked. The area was different, their eyes straining - Eyes? They stepped, one foot in front of the other- They had both feet?!?

Wildfire looked over themself, staring at both hands, running them along their leg.

“AH-”

“Hold Still Arc - Bite the hem of your clothing I need to cauterize the wound-”

“RRRG!”

“There. Not the worst feeling, ever, right?”

“I Suppose not Cinder.”

“Excellent. Now help me stand.”

Wildfire whipped around to see Jaune - one eye shut with fresh blood trailing from it, tears in his remaining eye, with Cinder standing on a black-glass prosthetic.

“What- Why-”

“I can keep going without an Eye. You deserve to see the world with your own two.” Jaune interrupted, Grinning even through his obvious pain and Cinder hanging off of him. He was old, hair tied back in a low ponytail, rusted plate armor surrounding him, with gray streaks in his golden locks.

“I figured … I could rely on you. I can also fly. I supposed I could live without being able to walk quickly.” Cinder avoided looking at them, clearly shocked by her own kindness and embarrassed by her seemingly having gone soft. She was also old, crows feet in her eyes, a dark cloak wrapping entirely around her body, hair long and graying.

They looked hardly different, tears welling up in both their eyes at the kindness Cinder and and Jaune showed them.

The idea of Wildfire being their Child - a new person born of two souls - had crossed their minds before. It made them cringe and recoil, especially when Jaune and Cinder actually started viewing Wildfire as something closer then just a combination of them.

“That was very selfless from both of you, if perhaps unnecessary. Another part of Alyx’s gift was that you would be put back to being young, and now all of you can be young again.”

“We’ve been told the Mind forgets but the heart remembers. If we become young again …” Cinder trailed off. She was scared - she held no power in this situation. She was willing to do just about anything to be young again, but she also … she couldn’t quite betray Wildfire … and … Jaune … just like that after everything.

“If you choose yourselves, No. But in this place you may be anything-”

“If we choose ourselves can we … change some things? About ourselves?” Cinder stared at her Grimm Arm for the first time in decades. She was glaring at it.

“To a degree, yes. Changing what you are changes who you are-”

“Get rid of my Grimm Arm.”

“So you choose yourselves?”

“Yes!”

The Blacksmith handed Cinder a Bow made of Glass.

She accepted readily, the gray leaving her hair, arm dissolving into mist as she erupted into a brilliant new flame.

“Yes?”

The Blacksmith handed Jaune a reforged Crocea Mors, a visible line from where it had shattered on the Bridge.

He accepted it tentatively, turning into glowing, golden motes of dust, blinking two blue eyes as he left.

“ … am I … myself?”

The Blacksmith smiled.

“Yes, but I do not have a weapon for you. What you wielded was theirs.”

“... may I make myself a weapon?”

“Yes, but it may take some time.”

“ … May I have Alyx’s Dagger?”

“It was left for you.”

“ … Thank you.”

“You are very welcome Wildfire.”

And Wildfire smiled, seemingly melting into an glowing Amber slag, tailing behind their progenitors, excited to see what they would become as their own person.

~~~~~

I have Ideas about what happens next, and I do feel I left things unanswered, but the open ending feels right. I know they help RWBY Fight Neo and the Cat, but that’s all.

#rwby #jaune arc #cinder fall #rwby au #alternative rusted knight #wildfire knight #fusion au #pilot boi

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pasukiyo · 8 months ago

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LEECH.

| a collection of one-shots. collection masterlist.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is simply a work of fiction and is in no way, shape, or form claiming to be a reflection of how leon kennedy is canonically portrayed as a character. this is an au, meaning it is an alternate reality written for fun, so please heed this warning and keep it in mind while you read.

— to join the taglist, follow the link here and choose “leon kennedy” in the character list.

collection songbook

leon kennedy x fem!reader word count; 1,656 warnings; leon is a stalker, leon's also a bit of a loser!, themes of dark!leon, allusions to smut, mentions of oral (m & f receiving) summary; letting her go was easily the biggest mistake leon has ever made, and he's made more than he can count. so when he finds her again, he vows she’ll be the one thing he clings to, like a leech in skin.

Leon never had a place to call his own, but he did have a home, once.

Home was a girl, home was a medic who, by patching him up that first time in the training grounds, prompted a rumbling from deep within his belly for a hunger he’d never had before, making him yearn for something constant, something domestic, something normal.

Because Leon Kennedy’s life was far from it. Years of being in all the wrong places at all the wrong times made certain of that. There was nothing normal about him to begin with anyways, even before that shitshow of a first day on duty at R.P.D..

Although not many tried, many failed to truly understand Leon Kennedy. Before there was a top secret government agent, there was a cop and before there was a cop, there was a teenager and before there was a teenager there was just a child, mourning the loss of parents he never got the chance to really know.

But that was all just the surface-level shit.

Everyone, at least on a business standpoint, knew about Leon’s past, why he was so eager to be an officer in the first place. But no one gave a shit about the in between. Nobody really cared for who Leon Kennedy was at his core, beneath all the blood, sweat, gore, and tears.

Nobody did— except for her.

Leon’s home once looked at him with a tenderness so devastating, it was like its own cataclysmic event. Every time she looked at him with eyes so warm like a crackling fire in the hearth on a cold, winter night, eyebrows pinched and brow furrowed, it was like the Earth was collapsing around him. The world was caving in and Leon didn’t care because all he could see was her: listening to him, eager to know more, wanting to help him.

He could still see her eyes every night when he closed his and he could still hear her voice, her breathing, the little sounds she made in those moments they shared when they burned the brightest. His skin still buzzed where her lips once touched him, although each day that passed by, the burn her kiss left upon his flesh gradually faded, so faint now, he was holding on to cinders. Leon would toss and turn in whatever bed he ended up in every night, willing the memory of their last night together back to the forefront of his brain, clinging on to the dying embers left in her lips’ wake.

Her kiss felt fainter tonight than it ever had before.

The feeling was nearly painful.

Leon ripped the thin duvet off of his body, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress that was more like a box spring than anything. The motel room he’d ended up in after the last mission was small, the walls were yellow with grime, the curtains over the window thin and ripped, allowing the orange light from the lamppost outside to spill in. There were small, dark ovals on the floor in the corner that were surely cockroaches, but Leon didn’t spare them a second glance as he zipped up his jeans— he’d slept in far worse places than this.

He tugged on the sheepskin leather jacket that had since been draped over the top of the withering dresser, stepping into his boots and bending at the waist from the edge of the mattress to lace them up. The alarm on the nightstand read 4:00 in big, red numbers that blinked after him as he stuffed his room key into his pocket, slipping out the door.

The air was cold and fog rolled in the low-lit parking lot, curls of smoky air visible in the lamplight. Leon could see his breath in misty clouds with each step he took and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, disappearing into the fog.

She haunted his reverie as if she were a parasite, a sickness he couldn’t heal from. He still saw her the day she told him she was leaving, still felt the bile that bubbled in his throat, still saw the tears that fell in droplets of rain down her cheeks. He still felt the weight of the words he’d said, still remembered her shaking her head, could still hear her voice curling around his ears like a ghostly whisper, saying “you have to let me go.”

He watched her walk away, let her go as she asked then, and perhaps, Leon should’ve tried to move on. Perhaps he should’ve let her go as she had asked, should’ve pushed himself harder in training, pushed himself harder in his missions so that maybe he could have forgotten her.

But he was still right where she left him.

Ever since she left, he’d been stuck as if he were in a time loop, reliving the day he let her walk away from him over and over again like it was some form of punishment, his own personal hell. He’d spent damn near every second that passed after that day trying to claw his way back to her, hanging on tooth and nail. He had to ask through virtually the entire medical team until he finally, finally found her.

He told himself he wouldn’t do this, told himself he’d wait until the morning where he could show up at her door, properly knock and engage in conversation. He tried desperately to resist the ache he now yielded to.

The place was caught in between a shithole and adequacy. It was a hell of a lot better than a vast majority of the places Leon had slept, at least. His footsteps echoed through the hallway as he neared her door, Room 210. He fished for his pocket knife in the front pocket of his jeans, unsheathing the switchblade before glancing around the hall.

Empty.

He leaned down to the lock and slowly, as to not make any more noise than necessary, inserted the blade, inch by inch until the tip reached the end. He twisted the hilt until there was a click, steadily sliding the knife back out and switching it closed, tucking it safely away back in his pocket.

The knob was cool against his fingertips as he twisted it, carefully pushing open the door, grimacing when it squeaked. He stepped inside the dark apartment, the shadows embracing him as if he were an old friend. Once he’d managed to close the door, he crept his way through the apartment, between half unpacked moving boxes and furniture.

The walls were bare for the most part, save for a painting above the television in the living room. Leon couldn’t quite discern what it was in the darkness, but through the sliver in the door beside it, he could just make out the shape of a footboard.

His heart pounded against his chest as he inched towards the bedroom door, palms against the wood, cautiously pushing open just enough to allow his body to slither through.

And there she was.

Leon’s home was a woman buried beneath the covers, turned on her side with an arm folded beneath her pillow. Home was the woman deep in slumber, lashes flush to her cheeks, oblivious to the man standing at her bedside.

Leon drew in a deep breath as he kneeled beside her, his fingers just itching to wipe the loose strand of hair away from her face. It’d been so long since the last time he’d seen her in the flesh and he’d counted down those long, agonizing days that eventually led him to this moment. The days were long and hard but finally, he’d made his way back to her.

The lips that used to kiss his, that used to part when she gasped, that wrapped around his cock when his fingers were woven through her hair were now pressed together in a line. The chest he’d sometimes lay on at night, the chest he’d knead in either of his palms, the chest he’d leave his marks upon rose and fell with her every breath. He wondered if any of his marks still tainted her skin, or if the time they’d spent apart had been enough to fade them away.

The eyes that still haunted him, even in this moment, were closed but still, their hue was forever ingrained in his memory. Leon’s fingers twitched as he raised a hand towards her face, shivering as he brushed the backs of his knuckles delicately across her cheek, the pad of his thumb just barely soothing over one of her closed eyelids. He swiped the loose strand of hair away from his face gently, the tip of his forefinger delicately tracing the curve of her ear.

The skin he’d been craving and yearning to touch was warm, a stark contrast from the cool of his own. Memories of nights that had passed with his arms wrapped around her naked body, with her breasts against his chest, their legs intertwined flashed in his mind. Memories of his palms soothing up and down her waist, his hands between the soft flesh of her thighs, his lips against her center made his mouth part in a gasp.

How he longed to shake her awake, to look in her eyes, to feel her again. How he longed to tangle his fingers up in her hair and push her lips against his in a searing kiss that would forever scar him but feel so damn good all the while.

But he wouldn’t wake her, not now.

For tonight, he’d settle on the fact that he’d found her, that he could see her once again. Seeing her again set that old flame in the pit of his belly ablaze once more, fueling that craving he had for something constant, something domestic, something normal.

Normalcy was hard, his line of work made certain of that. Nobody normal had seen the amount of shit he had, nor had the amount of blood on his hands that tainted his. Normalcy was practically a myth, normalcy sounded more outrageous than the outrageous did to him.

Normalcy may have been out of reach before, yes, but now— now it felt closer than ever. If becoming a leech, a blood-sucking parasite with its teeth sunken deep into skin was what he had to do to achieve it, then so be it. He was so tired of letting everything he’d ever wanted slip out of his reach— so when he sunk down onto the floor with his back against the wall, gaze still fixed on the woman slumbering upon the bed, he vowed to let this be the one thing he cling to.

a/n; SO... SURPRISE! i got the idea for this while driving to work this past tuesday morning and couldn't stop thinking about it my entire shift lol i'm really excited to write more for this collection, so stay tuned for further one-shots! i just ask for your patience-- i'm a college student with a job! :) anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this little introduction to the collection :)

❕❕the next fic in the collection will be posted april 14th at 3 pm cst

💿 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the entire world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder @chaoticevilbakugo @luckypurins @glovesandhorror @xoxostarlet @illsksm @echo1200 @d3adp00ls @woahhajime @leonkennedygvrl

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil #pasukiyo's leech collection

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oracleofdiscord · 2 months ago

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ugh i'm so of-two-minds when it comes to the jay and nya fight.

because on the one hand, i'll be honest - i do feel like i would have actually preferred jay to win his match with nya for a few reasons:

i feel like lightning actually has the potential to be a really badass element and it would have been cool to see a jay who doesnt have hangups about hurting the ninja show that off

i didnt love the way he lost; i really liked the creative usage of elemental powers in the various matches and having a dramatic match like nya vs jay just turn into "shatterspin vs rising dragon, rising dragon beats shatterspin because of course it does" was...a letdown to me

i wanted more of the emotional gutpunch of the ninja having to deal with jay being a villain - the fact that he immediately got sent away to who-knows-where means it feels like the emotional conflict has turned into "we have to rescue him" with "he's evil now" just being an additional layer of things to rescue him from in addition to him being who-knows-where and probably trapped. whereas i wanted more of "we are actively having to deal with someone we care about being evil" (and while we may get that in the future, the ninja will now have had forewarning to emotionally prepare themselves for that, which they would not have gotten if jay had stuck around during the tournament)

even if it's a character that's already known to the audience, i feel like introducing a new antagonist by having them very quickly lose a fight to a single protagonist is...not ideal? makes them feel like not a big threat, and i wanted evil!jay to feel like a threat

on the other hand, while watching it, it did feel like it made sense that nya won - because jay can't remember his own years of fighting experience, whereas nya is just as skilled as usual. (and i will admit that them having to choose between staying for the tournament vs going after jay was also good angst)

but one thing that might reconcile those ideas if i ever flesh out a "jay wins the match" au is an idea that @destinysbounty came up with - nya loses because she really cant bring herself to attack jay. and the reason i like it is because it immediately sets up a contrast to wyldfyre - who loses because she cant bring herself to not attack cinder!

(and while i would need to figure out more details for why this matchup would happen, maybe he fights nokt in the same match nya originally did, and loses. a villain losing to an already-established-to-be-more-powerful villain doesnt knock their threat level down as much. nokt still wins water and lightning from the match and the rest of the tournament plays out as normal. and jay can still be sent away for losing a match so things arent totally canon-divergent - he just gets a bit more time in the city, potentially interacting with the ninja, first)

#dragons rising spoilers #nya ninjago #jay walker #wyldfyre #ninjago #ninjago au #...i guess? i was getting into au-building by the end there #maybe i'll call it a #jay wins au #in case i decide to do more with it later

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chaoticevilspacewitch · 8 months ago

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RWBY Fanfic Recommendation List

Fics that have really struck me, vaguely organized by ship and/or topic.

Bumbleby (Blake x Yang)

first off, basically anything by pugoata. She's the goddess-empress of the Bees. I'm gonna give particular props to Banshee, as it was the first longer fic and AU that I read, and it really opened up my mind to what fanfic could be.

You're a Mountain, Full of Glory - a ski/snowboard with amazing characterization and a closing scene that will live rent-free in my head forever, in a good way.

They Can't Steal the Love You're Born to Find - childhood soulmates repeatedly torn apart and reconnecting, with courtroom drama. One of the most angst-ridden Bee fics I've ever read.

Fucking In Love - pornstar AU that gets right to the sex and slow burns the romance. Hot as hell while also full of tenderness and pining.

Midnight Menagerie - exotic dancer, kinda-cyberpunk dystopia AU. Edges you forever with the sex, earns all the angst tags, and we are majorly trusting @kaelidascope when she promises an amazing happy ending.

Bite Me Like You Love Me - one of the hottest Bee smutfics I've ever read.

You and Me - Blake discovers she's pregnant the day Yang goes MIA on a mission and struggles through being a single mother teaching their child about her amazing other mom. Short, happy ending, amazingly sweet.

You and Me, and One Hot Summer - tropical beach Bees. It's fun, and hella spicy!

WhiteRose (Ruby x Weiss)

The Foxtrot - Ruby and Weiss repair their broken lives after the war. It's one of the most popular RWBY fics of all time for a reason.

Can You See My Strings?/Deja Vu - premium mentally ill Weiss escapes from child abuse angst, with a happy ending if you read the sequel.

But Your Voice Used to Be Mine - Weiss escapes abuse to join RBY's punk band whose smash hit she inspired.

Just One Cigarette - Ruby and Weiss have a little meetup roleplay and it's really good.

Faunus Weiss (generally major themes of struggling with internal and external racism)

Craving the Sky - Weiss has painfully concealed her faunus heritage while she tries to earn her father's love. The support of her team, and the love of Blake and Yang (BeesSchnees) help her soar on her own.

Black Swan Theory - faunus Weiss struggles to recover from child abuse and navigate a deeply racist society while building a relationship with Pyrrha (Schneekos).

Clipped Wings - secret faunus Weiss, dealing with racism and abuse from Jacques, this time slow burning towards Pollination.

Villainesses

Melting Glace - Cinder and Neo find love, and no redemption, in the trauma of failing to destroy Beacon. Will make you cheer for them to win by the end.

Rise from the Ashes - Cinder has a Vader moment and saves Ruby from Salem, and Ruby's pure heart helps her heal, and their adversarial relationship turn to affection. Peak RWBY enemies-to-lovers.

Odds & Ends

The Bermuda Triangle - great modern AU BeesSchnees that gets filthy hot at the end.

Midnight Rose - Summer rescues and adopts Cinder out of Atlas. Their relationship, and Cinder coming to love the Xiao Long-Rose family, is beautifully depicted. Still very much ongoing (no ships as of yet).

Fallen Maiden - Jaune dies protecting Pyrrha at Beacon, and the Fall Maiden power remains split. Will Pyrrha's bloody crusade of vengeance consume her? Or, 'Pyrrha goes full Magneto and fucks Cinder up'.

What's In A Name? - Winter and May grow up together, struggling to cope with their feelings for each other against the background of the Atlas aristocracy.

Red Sky at Night - This excellently-composed fic has a hacked Penny as the primary antagonist of the Beacon arc and builds it to Nuts & Dolts. It captures both Penny's horror at being controlled in her own body and RWBY's fear in fighting a seemingly unstoppable enemy, almost like Terminator vibes, and ultimately takes it to a very sweet relationship.

Linked In Life and Love - I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this one. I really, really love the first act, where Team RWBY sees Blake suffering terribly through a surprise heat cycle and decides that they will all "help" her with it. It's sweet and tender and feels legit for them. I'm not a huge fan of where all the series has gone since, but I would invite anyone to judge that for themselves.

Sparks in the Dark - an Emerald/Penny/Ruby trio that's really masterfully done, exploring all three characters in very novel ways, and also doing great things with Salem and Cinder.

War Machines - a Penny/Ruby role-swap that follows Penny's adventures on team BXPS with Blake, Yang, and Weiss. It's very thoughtful and a good read as science fiction for its exploration of Penny's artificial personhood.

(As I see this getting a decent amount of traffic, I'll just point out that, if it's convinced you [correctly] of my impeccable taste in fanfic, you might want to check out my own RWBY writings)

#rwby #rwby fanfic #rwby shipping #ao3 #rwby recommendations #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #bumbleby #whiterose #save rwby #save crwby #greenlight volume 10 #nuts and dolts

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violenteconomics · 5 months ago

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First year gang but it’s an au where they’re ghostbusters

anything 4 u, baby. (gonna be real with you, though, i have never seen a single ghostbusters movie, so some of this is just based off of preliminary research, lol)

okay, so it's a TWST event based on that one old mickey mouse short "the haunted house" and the actual "the haunted mansion" ride at disneyland. there's this old, decrepit house on school property that used to be its own dorm -- we're just gonna call it "skaladare". however, after an undisclosed accident nearly a century ago where all the dorm members died simultaneously, it shut down and is now the most dangerous place to be on all of campus. for this reason, demolition companies don't want to go anywhere NEAR this thing, so it's just been chilling in its pocket dimension for a while.

you can see where this is going.

the first-years originally think they're just going into skaladare to get the cinders cloak that used to belong to the old housewarden, which has great magical properties -- which is partially true, if nothing else. that idea degrades over time, though, as crowley gives them ghostbusting outfits, magestone equipment (proton packs, containment units, etc.), and even gives grim a funny pair of ecto goggles. ("you probably won't get in any real danger, but i'll give you all this stuff anyway because i'm just so darn kind---")

(the housewarden of skaladare, named gale roths (a pun on the term "gale rots"), is twisted from the grim reaper from the mickey mouse short, btw.)

as soon as they get there, the door closes in on them and they're locked inside. luckily, they're met with the ghost of a former skaladare first-year named gabriel hauntings (for... obvious reasons), twisted from the ghost host from the haunted mansion ride. he's pretty friendly as far as most undead go, though (if extremely sassy and sarcastic, but i guess being stuck with nothing to do but crossword puzzles will do that to you).

gabriel can't remember how he died, but everyone else does. and he can tell you that everyone has been extremely aggressive after they woke up as ghosts, so the first-years better watch their backs. after a bit of threatening by epel and manhandling by sebek (which everyone is deeply confused by, because he's supposed to incorporeal, sebek is there something you want to tell us--), gabriel agrees to guide them through the mansion to the housewarden's bedroom, where the cinders cloak is.

they fight through a bunch of skeletons and ghosts, and as they continue through the halls, talking to old paintings on the walls and random scraps of memories gabriel regains, they slowly piece together the story behind skaladare's mass extinction.

as it turns out, skaladare used to be the worst-ranked dorm in the whole school -- in grades, definitely, but also in the fact that the dorm was literally falling apart, and no matter how much housewarden roths begged for repairs, the headmage at the time (who i'm just going to assume isn't crowley) refused to spend money on what the entire school saw as a lost cause.

skaladare lost every spelldrive match they were ever apart of, they were cut out of school-wide field trips, the teachers looked down on skaladare first-years the moment they stepped into the classroom, and getting sorted into skaladare was basically a death sentence (*hint hint*, *wink wink*)

being the housewarden of this awful place was already bad. combine that with the housewarden's already ongoing issues (we're just going to assume they're similar to riddle's), and he overblotted in no time at all. except this time, there was nobody who could stop him -- and he wound up killing every single person in skaladare. the reason gabriel doesn't remember any of this is because he was sleeping when this happened, which is why he describes the process of becoming a ghost as "waking up".

blah blah blah, the first-years have to deal with another overblot, can you believe it? except this time, gabriel is going to battle with us after hanging back this whole time (yes, he can get a card, too). and at the end, gabriel and gale and everybody else can move on to the afterlife. gale gives the first-years the cinders cloak, the freshmen and gabriel have a tearful goodbye, and they leave up into the great unknown after one last twistune.

even if this is a twst event and those are usually pretty goofy, let's say that this ending has our freshmen thinking about how this school and their own dorms might actually kill them one day.

as for cards, i'm gonna give jack and sebek the ssr cards ('cause let's be real, they deserve it at this point), deuce and epel can get the sr cards, and (i'm so sorry) ace and ortho get the r cards. and since gabriel is our event guest, he also gets an ssr card.

#twisted wonderland #twst first years #twst #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #ortho shroud #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola #twst yuu #anything 4 u baby #dire crowley #twst oc #(kinda)

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lesbianneopolitan · 1 month ago

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It's tiiiime to copy/paste my ordered ramble on the Vampire AU to have it archived here as well!

· Neo was born in the Late Middle Ages (around 1250), and the Vanille family turned her into a vampire around 1275, when she was in her middle 20s (25).

· It was around the age of the Industrial Revolution that she broke free from her family by killing them, after many years of training to hone her skills and develop her special powers.

· She was the heiress of the Vanille family, but in reference to canon, her relationship with her parents was less than ideal. There was a lot of drama with other vampire families, like if they were mafias. · Being born in such an early era made the ignorant populace (and even her parents) to believe she was cursed from the start or possessed by an evil entity (because of her mutism and heterochromia).

· As a side note, the cruelty of vampires not being able to reproduce in this world lead vampire families of renown to kidnap newborn children from humans to raise as their own, all before turning them into vampires at late adult ages.

· Neo never got to meet her biological parents- not like she ever got the need to do so in the first place.

· Modern setting unless stated otherwise. Ethnicity wise, she’s also a British Italian in this AU.

· Born Trivia Vanille, but she goes by the name of Neopolitan to everyone. Only really close people to her know of her real name.

· In this world, vampires develop special abilities aside of the base vampire powers. Neo’s powers are illusion-based, pretty close to how her Semblance works in canon.

· On the set of base vampire abilities, she’s good with vampire shapeshifting- turning into bats, mist, cats, wolves, and even a monstrous form. Her illusions feel more cold and less real, while shapeshifting physically changes her. She’s also good with dream invasion and telepathy.

· She’s pretty cruel when it comes to treat humans, for she only sees them as food and her playthings. However, the exception of this case is Roman Torchwick, who is actually just a normal dude in this AU, yet, he’s Neo’s best friend and partner in crime.

· Neo is pretty much an independent and free vampire. She helps Roman with robberies and other crimes, lives doing whatever she feels like doing.

· A lesbian (expected). In fact, she’s close to Cinder, a vampire of Salem’s vampire family. She’s her closest vampire buddy, and the woman she goes out with when it comes to vampire-natured mischief and cruelty. Neo is the reason Cinder became a vampire in the first place.

· Born mute, she can communicate via telepathy in this AU. She likes to scare people with it, but tries to avoid using it too much because it's not her preference.

· The first vampires that started to create their bloodlines all come from different origins, so there are small differences between each line, and Neo comes from one in which the vampires are specially talented with shapeshifting and illusion-based powers. Dream invasion too.

· While I didn’t define it too well yet, the idea is that the first vampire of her line was more related to the fae than say, an evil god or a demon of some kind, even if at the end of the day, all vampires are quite demonic in nature.

#Vampire AU #RWBY #Neopolitan #AU lore

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aziraphales-library · 7 months ago

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hello hello hello! how are you lovely mods doing? first of all I want to thank you for this blog, it's given me all the best GO fics I've read!!

I wanted to ask you, are you guys aware of any Cinderella!au fanfic for AziraCrow? Cause I've been thinking about writing one, but I don't want to accidentally make it too similar to an existing one!

Thank you ever so much ❤️

Hi, I'm good thanks! We have some Cinderella aus here, and I've got more now...

Raven by desk_mess (T)

King Gabriel's son, Prince Ezra, is coming of age to take a wife for themself. A servant-girl, Antonia, dreams of escaping the clutches of her cruel step-mother and step-sisters. Little do they know they have someone looking out for them. After all, it's ineffable. (Good Omens Cinderella AU) (Rated Teen for Language and Implications.)

A Midsummer Midnight’s Dream by pilatesandpinot (E)

Aziraphale Fell dreams of becoming an actor and dancer but instead lives in servitude to his wicked stepfather and stepsisters. When a mysterious duke invites all of the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes to the Midsummer Masquerade Ball, he thinks he’s found his escape. His stepfamily shuns him from attending, though that’s not something Aziraphale or his sassy godmother will take laying down. Will Aziraphale find his happily ever after, even if it’s not entirely what he expected? A Cinderella/Fairytale inspired AU

Cinderfall by a_serpent (G)

Azira Fell had a really though childhood - his parents died and he had to live with his terrible stepmother and stepbrothers. Everything changes when one day Az meets intriguing (and deadly handsome) redhead stranger.

Cinderphale by Ezra_Oakenshield (G)

As the title suggests, this is a rewrite of "Cinderella" with the Good Omens characters. After the death of his mother, Aziraphale is at the mercy of his cruel adopted siblings. They reduce him to a lowly servant. The solace he finds is with his animal friends, his bookkeeper friend from town, the mysterious blank book that she gave him, the prospect of the three-night ball at the palace, and a certain handsome red-head with dark glasses.

Cinders Bound by Golden Crown by AJ_Constantine (E)

Good Omens Alpha Beta Omega Cinderella AU From the far end of the ballroom Prince Aziraphale’s eyes locked on Crowley as he raised his hand beseechingly. Crowley couldn’t look away from him if his life depended on it, although he was keenly aware of the increasing number of eyes joining the Prince’s to stare at him standing frozen on the dais. As he realized that he was incapable of not answering the silent call of the bright Alpha below him, a calm washed over him, acting as a soothing balm over the jagged edges of his seething emotions. Just breathe. He inhaled shakily as he began descending the steps to the ballroom floor. Prince Aziraphale mirrored his steps, stepping forward to close the distance between them. The sea of nobles between them parted like waves receding from the shore as they moved closer. When Crowley drew close to the Prince, his hand slowly rose to settle in the Alpha's outstretched one. The Prince looked at Crowley's face searchingly. His voice was quiet yet ringing with intent as he asked, "May I have this dance?"

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #cinderella au #fantasy au #mod d

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matrixbearer2024 · 18 days ago

Text

Suffering

Are you really even living? Or simply surviving doctor? When had immortality turned from a blessing into a curse? More importantly, did you really even care? Or did you only care because you're now all alone?

AKA; Ford internalizing now that he's alone and invulnerable to the sands of time. The same can't be totally said for his mental state though. After all, he's only human.

Songfic based on "Suffering" by Amelie Farren written for my Time Lord Twins AU!

I'm very delulu for my AU- so have a sneak peek into Doc's future with this song fic I wrote. I have three distinct moments for Stanford as the Doctor in my timelord twins AU:

the Doctor that neglects — when he was young and was only a Doctor thanks to his PhDs

the Doctor that regrets — present, where I normally create content for him and where his blog and RP are currently situated

the Doctor that forgets — the far flung future where he outlives everybody and completely embraces being a time lord

I'll be tagging these posts accordingly, but I'd love to talk about his lore much more if you guys are interested!

The sun had long dipped below the edge of the cosmos, surrendering to the sea of stars that now spilled across the boundless sky. Within the TARDIS, Stanford stood against the vast backdrop of that eternal night, the hum of the ship's machinery a constant, soothing drone beneath the cacophony of his thoughts. The silver pill case in his hand reflected the light of a nearby console, gleaming with a sterile brightness that made his skin crawl. He turned it over between his fingers, contemplating the small white tablets that represented his fragile tether to equilibrium.

I've thrown aside my worries, but the cares they bite me back. I'm taking twenty vitamins a day, for the iron I lack.

Stanford grimaced, the corners of his lips pulling downward as the familiar bitterness welled up in his throat. He tilted his head back and swallowed the pills dry, feeling them scrape down his throat as if rebelling against their purpose. Sustenance without substance, that was his life now. He no longer needed food to keep going, no longer needed the simple pleasures of living— he only indulged when he could remember to, when the aching loneliness hadn’t numbed his senses entirely.

I don't need food I don't need sleep, don't tell me that I'm wrong! I don't know what I'm doing— But can you please just play along?

The first decade had clawed at him with relentless, gnawing grief. Each year afterward seemed to find a new way to hollow him out, chiseling deeper into the marrow of his being until there was nothing left but the echo of old anguish. He would lie awake in the captain’s chair or pace the TARDIS halls, every footfall a metronome counting out regrets. Days would bleed into each other, a palette of shadows smearing over any sense of time. He’d stopped counting birthdays after the 200th, the last one he’d shared with Stanley.

Why count when the numbers stretched toward an infinity he wanted nothing to do with?

My head is made of flowers, and my body made of steel. Cause I can't think— Can't hear— can't feel!

Stanford’s fingers flexed, muscles tightening and releasing as if testing the reality of their presence. The memories surged forward like a wave, unstoppable and suffocating— hands covered in grime and ash, eyes stinging from the smoke that rose like specters around him, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue. He had touched the stars, commanded them, until they burned him to cinders. His mind was an overgrown thicket now, vines of regret and bitterness weaving through every synapse, thorned reminders of a past he could neither escape nor amend.

When he closed his eyes, he could see them— faces etched into the void, voices calling out in anguish as they fell. Each step, each choice, stained his path with crimson guilt. He felt like a monument to grief, immovable and ever-decaying.

They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything Cause I can't see!

The doctor let out a breath that shuddered its way past his chest, eyes straying to the holographic stars projected across the TARDIS library. What he once chased with fervor and ambition had turned into an unyielding prison. The titles of “healer” and “teacher”, which once filled him with pride, now felt like weights dragging him deeper into the abyss. What good was saving worlds when he couldn’t save his own heart from splintering?

I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? Cause suffering in silence is better—

He could scream, tear at the walls and curse the very fabric of the universe, but he didn’t. The tears had dried up centuries ago, leaving him a stoic effigy among the whirring consoles and glowing monitors. The charade was familiar— a smile that never reached his eyes, words measured and wrapped in carefully crafted ease. He was an actor in the greatest tragedy ever told, where the curtains never fell.

Than suffering with you.

The doctor’s gaze dropped to the leather-bound journal resting on the armrest of his chair, untouched for days. The pages within held maps of stars, sketches of constellations, and annotations written with a frantic hand, desperate to capture even a fragment of meaning. The room around him felt cavernous, echoing with memories of Dipper’s quick wit and Mabel’s bright laughter. He could almost hear them, almost see their shadows darting between bookshelves.

But it was only him, just him, marooned in this endless stretch of time.

So I jumped out with a parachute, but the ground caught me off guard. Karma for the rules I break, the ones I disregard.

The temptation to go back, to step through rifts that bent reality and visit those moments, was irresistible. He’d done it before, left the TARDIS hidden among the trees and traced the familiar paths of Gravity Falls with trembling steps. His heart would clench as he watched past versions of himself and his twin squabble over nonsense, the cheery voices of his grand niece and nephew not long to join. Their voices carrying over the wind with the kind of ease that only came before everything shattered.

I can feel the tension rising. What fate is worse than this? Stuck between the ones I love—

He’d watch them, hidden in the shadows of his own memories, a ghost to a life he once lived. Cosmic rules be damned. He’d listen to the echoes of their laughter until it felt like it would break him, that painful, beautiful sound that underscored just how far he’d fallen. But even then, he would not dare approach, would not dare alter a single second.

And the ones I miss.

Stanford’s eyes shifted to the flickering flames of the library’s fireplace, its light casting restless, dancing shadows across the room. The orange glow did little to warm the chill embedded in his bones. How many Fords, across how many dimensions, would have craved this? A sanctuary lined with knowledge and power, the respect of entire galaxies balanced on a single whispered name— ‘Doctor.’ And yet, it was all as hollow as the space between the stars.

My head is made of shrubbery, and my body made of stone. Cause I can't for the life of me— reap what I have sown!

He tightened his hold on the armrest, the leather creaking under his grip. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It never should have come to this— sailing across time, trapped in a machine that hummed with its own form of loneliness, while he wore a mask that no one ever questioned. It felt like being both the sculptor and the statue, shaping and trapped by the life he’d carved out.

They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything, 'cause I can't see!

The weight of immortality, once so alluring, now coiled around him like iron shackles. What did it matter if entire legions paused at the utterance of his name? What did it matter if beings far beyond human comprehension flinched at the sight of him? It meant nothing without the echoes of laughter, without the warmth of shared stories and the unspoken understanding of his family’s presence beside him.

I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? 'Cause suffering in silence is better—

He filled the silence with companions, short-lived stars that burned bright and fizzled out too quickly. They were there, and then they weren’t. Time was relentless, wearing them down to memories while he stood unchanged. Each one chipped away at him, left him a little more hollow. His only true constant was Stanley, and even he didn’t know the full story. Ford wouldn’t let him, couldn’t let him see that far into the dark.

Than suffering with you.

The TARDIS thrummed, a soft, sympathetic sound that vibrated through his bones as if it, too, mourned the lives they’d shared and lost. Ford exhaled, the heaviness in his chest pressing down like a stone. He could carry this, he would carry this— because if there was one thing he’d learned in all these centuries, it was that some battles are never meant to be shared. Some wars are fought in silence, against an enemy that wore your face in the mirror.

And if the burden grew too heavy, well— he was the Doctor. He would bear it alone.

He had to.

I try to sink and never float.

Some days, the weight was manageable, a familiar companion that settled over him like a well-worn cloak. But tonight, the burden felt insurmountable, pressing against his chest until each breath tasted sharp, like the metallic tang of blood from battles fought too long ago to matter and yet too vivid to forget.

Stanford’s eyes turned to the viewport, where the stars blinked back at him with their indifferent light. Once, those points of light had been symbols of promise, of adventure and uncharted paths. Now they were cold eyes watching as he drifted— an eternal voyager, bound by his own choices and the mistakes that clung to him like barnacles on a shipwreck.

Cause my head is underwater.

The doctor’s fingers found the edge of his sleeve, gripping it tight as though it could anchor him. The silence roared in his ears, the kind that made old wounds ache with the sharpness of fresh cuts. Memories of splintered wood and that familiar bite of ozone filled his senses. The frantic fight, the blinding light, the hole that had torn through his chest— a wound that should have marked the end. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling phantom pain coil around him like a serpent.

I’m here by choice by my own hand.

The most damning part was knowing that every fracture, every scar, was carved by his own hand. He’d walked into the chaos willingly, driven by an insatiable need to prove something— to whom, he couldn’t even remember anymore. A need that had led him to make choices that, at best, haunted him and, at worst, had cost him everything.

I’m a lamb sent into slaughter.

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the silver strands that had once been a youthful umber. The weight in his chest grew heavier, spreading through his limbs. He remembered the moment he’d sealed his fate with a handshake and a grin, signing away pieces of himself to a demon who promised everything and gave nothing but ruin. Even now, the jeers of that one-eyed triangle haunted the corners of his vision, mocking him with every beat of his undying heart.

I’m aware of my own body.

Every nerve ending screamed in protest as memories flared to life. The repair box’s nanobots— an endless legion that buzzed beneath his skin— worked tirelessly, a ceaseless reminder that he wasn’t wholly his own anymore. Some days, he could almost feel them moving, an itch he could never scratch. His hands curled into fists, knuckles turning white as he resisted the impulse to claw at the sensation, to rip it out and make it stop.

I can feel beneath my skin.

But he didn’t. He never did. The discipline of centuries held him captive, a slave to his own stoic facade. He swallowed hard, letting the tension dissipate as much as it ever could, settling like sediment at the bottom of his soul. The fire’s light flickered over his features, casting deep shadows that made his face look carved from stone.

I can wash away my insecurities.

He stood abruptly, the sudden motion sending a wave of dizziness through him. The doctor steadied himself against the back of the chair, eyes closing as he drew in a breath. The act was as much a ritual as any he performed— a way to wash the fractures of his spirit, to convince himself that he was still whole. But deep down, he knew.

But can’t wash away my sin!

No amount of time, no act of heroism, could ever cleanse the burgundy that stained his hands. It was a truth that gnawed at him, a constant shadow that whispered during his moments of quiet. He turned toward the shelves, running a finger over the spine of a book he’d read a hundred times but never truly absorbed. Knowledge without purpose— just like him.

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but I disagree! I can’t imagine anything—

The holographic stars in the library blinked and swirled, shifting constellations that once spoke of wonder and exploration. Now, they were a cruel reminder of all the places he’d been, all the faces he’d left behind. He raised a fist, hesitated, then let it fall to his side. He couldn’t even find the anger to break the illusion.

Cause I can’t see!

His vision blurred, not with tears— those had dried up long ago— but with the weight of exhaustion that pressed down on him like a vice. Every accolade, every whispered praise, fell flat, their meaning washed away by the tides of time and repetition. The applause of civilizations felt no different than the hollow sound of silence.

I won’t break the ice though what else Is there to do?

The cold chill crept into his veins, a familiar companion that had shared his endless nights. Yet, he dared not crack the veneer he’d cultivated— that smile, that reassuring nod. It was a mask, as impenetrable as the TARDIS walls. To break it would mean shattering the delicate balance that kept him standing.

Cause suffering in silence is better—

Stanford’s fingers brushed against the journal again, the touch almost reverent, as if it held the answers he’d long given up searching for. The one story he couldn’t write was his own— each word caught in the tangle of what-ifs and could-have-beens that ensnared his mind.

Than suffering with you!

He swallowed back the ache, pushing it down to the depths where it simmered and seethed. To bear it alone was better; it was safer. The doctor would stand, resolute and silent, a guardian of time burdened by its cruelest truths.

And as the night deepened, the stars outside continued their silent vigil, unmoved by the man who carried the weight of universes in his lonely fractured heart.

Tell me what you think about these two! I've got more drabbles in store for them aside from the content already on both their blogs @gftimelord & @gftimelordstwin! Also posted here on Ao3!

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