#I won’t do anything to be worried about. I’m very afraid of pain. which is more useful than you’d think at first.

[lovelesslittleloser]

Fellas. Is it normal to listen to unhappy music and feel like you’re six feet under water in the middle of the ocean, not bothering to drag yourself to the surface, since you lack the energy and motivation, and would still be lost at sea and helpless anyway, and feeling not as though you’re drowning, but as though the ghost of something is whispering cruel nothings into your ears, convincing you that there is nothing better than this, and that even if there were, it wouldn’t be someone like you that would deserve it?

[vaguely-concerned]

I wanted to write out a more condensed version of the Garashir thoughts I accumulated through my read of a stitch in time, because it really is driving me slightly nuts. so here we go!

I think my basic takeaway is something like: if you look at what's actually on the page as dialogue and not just the story garak tells himself internally of what has happened between them (which is basically 'I've fucked up somehow and I don't know how or why but something's broken here and I messed it up; I have nothing left of interest to offer him', pretty clearly going over it in his head like he would trying to figure out what he did wrong when tain locked him in a closet as a child), you kind of get the feeling that julian doesn't know what to do with the way garak flinches away from him whenever he tries to get closer or offer help. (which like. not for nothing but that's actually the dynamic between garak and mila too, but with garak's role switched to the mostly-resigned seeker of contact rather than the flincher-away. we all know garak’s daddy issues but I think the mommy issues at work are doing some gulf stream shit under the surface as well lol.) so julian starts hesitating in seeking out contact in the first place, nevermind asking him for anything more when garak's also clearly falling apart mentally and seems unreachable in the first place. and Julian also doesn't want to mess this up and make something already fraught and painful even worse; he still wants to help! he always wants to help, that’s just who he is, he keeps trying through the whole book. and when garak mostly-gently but reflexively and firmly rebuffs him each time he tries… after a while it seems like he doesn't think he's welcome, or that he's imposing and garak doesn't really want him there — that he's just humoring him or something when he does let him in, just like garak was so afraid palandine was doing with him in the beginning. it’s only in the final scene between them that garak invites him in and asks for help on his own initiative. 

“I’m pleased you stopped by”/”No, you’re not,” he said quietly. ‘I really won’t take up any more of your time’. “You see, this is so difficult, Garak. I know what a private person you are, and how you detest people meddling in your affairs….”. “Your holosuite program. The one that allows me to visit the traumas of my childhood.”/“I hesitate to suggest this, remembering how you reacted the last time … but, yes, I feel it could make a difference,” the Doctor gamely admitted. (Julian I love you so much. Eternal optimist hours. Keep it up it’s going to get you spectacularly laid if you just get on that shuttle to Cardassia.) All these moments do not read to me as someone who has no interest in continuing or deepening this relationship (maybe the opposite, in fact), it gives me more the sense of someone who feels he keeps putting his foot in his mouth and making the damage worse no matter what he tries, and not knowing what else to do but to back off to save them both more pain. (he also needs help and support, but he’s not going to go ask it of someone who’s clearly in no position to give it (on account of visibly falling apart even more than usual). And also because the good doctor is such a hypocrite lol ‘of course you’re worth asking for and receiving help!! I’m just fine tho don’t worry about me *light is slowly dying in his eyes behind the smile as the seasons go on*’. Stiff upper lip to the point of psychological breakdown-off (cross-cultural, competitive))  

and the most painful thing to me is that after their disastrous tea party in garak’s shop, at the very least, garak clearly realizes he's hurting julian by keeping him out (But as to the question of which group suffers the most…), and he desperately wants to stop hurting him but he just doesn't know how!!! he's never learned how to close the distance! he's been locked completely into himself by the way tain shaped him and doesn't know how to get out of the closet so to speak yet! ('...am I not. *supposed* to pretend to be functional and have no needs. is that not like. my entire job interpersonally. I am confused.') it’s something Tolan already observes in him and grieves over when he comes home from Bamarren, and the years since have uh not helped with that particular problem lol. for all he longs for it, intimacy is like a hot stove to him; he can’t help but reach out, and he can’t help but flinch away when he actually comes into contact with it. almost the worst part is that I think Julian can tell some of that too and sort of understands it/doesn't hold it against him, and it just makes it even sadder, somehow. they both move so carefully around each other through this, because even in the middle of all that they really do try to be kind to each other the best they know how and it fucks me up so bad. which makes it even crazier and more touching that all of asit is basically garak processing his shit until he can get to the last line honestly — 'You're always welcome, Doctor'. he pulled a full lizardly mr darcy in the post-apocalypse here, he got around to starting to fix himself at least partly to be in a place where he could be able to meet Julian in the ways he needs if he wants that from him. And that drives me utterly insane thanks for asking!!! WILD BOOK COMPLETELY UNHINGED 300+ PAGE DECLARATION OF LOVE AND INTIMACY WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL

(this post started life as a tag ramble under @spocks-kaathyra‘s wonderful post about Julian’s side of it over here, but — as I’m sure you'll be astonished to learn at this point — I found I somehow had even more things to say, my neurons boileth over perpetually and it seems I just have to live with that)

[sicbaby]

can you do pegging sub!who does anything for the reader!ethan and comparing the size of the fake dick with his w/ humiliation?

i rushed the shit out of this but it’s so filthy ough

ethan is a very, very needy sub most of the time. he’d do anything for you though, even if it hurts him. (which he loves the pain, loves being humiliated… but he won’t admit it.)

you two are currently naked on your bed, and you have him sat at the edge, forcing him to watch you get yourself off. his instructions were to just watch you, and he’s not allowed to touch himself. he was feeling very sensitive that night, and you wanted to use that to your advantage. you weren’t going to give him anything that he wanted, instead you were going to use him, tease him, like he was your own little fuck toy. it was easy to make you fold for him, however.

his cock was so hard, resting against his belly, and the tip was flushed red. you had placed a pretty little butt plug in him, and he was squirming around in his seat. you knew it must be so painful for him, but it was such a sight to see. his face remained in a pout, watching you, but it was torturing him not being able to do anything about it.

“come here, baby..” you pat the open spot next to you on the bed. he eagerly obeys you, crawling until he’s on your right side. he doesn’t say anything, almost like he’s afraid. he fidgets with his hands.

“what’s got you so nervous, hmm?” you tease him.

“i- i just want to make sure i do what i’m told..” ethan replies. his voice is quiet but ernest, the slightest hint of genuine affection apparent in his voice. he looks down at your naked body for a second, before quickly looking away, his face flushing.

“and what do you think i’ll do to you if you don’t do what you’re told?”

he thinks for a moment before responding. “i would be… i would be punished..” he swallows. “but i don’t wanna find out, babe.” he slips out.

you slap his naked thigh harshly. “what did you just call me?”

he flinches, and jumbles his words in a haste to get them out. “m-mommy! i’m sorry, mommy. i’m sorry…”

“are you gonna act like that the whole night? or do i need to punish you now?” you ask.

he shakes his head. “i won’t fight you, mommy. i’m sorry.. it won’t happen again.”

you seem satisfied with his answer. “good boy..” you caress the red skin on his thigh, soothing the ache of your slap.

“what would you like to do, mommy? is- is there anything i can do?” he asks, and you smile sweetly at him, he was such a good, obedient baby for you.

“i wanna fuck you tonight, baby. is that alright?” you asks, leaning in, whispering into his ear. his eyes widen at that. he looks down to where your hand is on his thigh, and bites his lip.

“you… want to-“ he manages to get out, but quickly stops himself, worried he’d anger you.

you get up and rummage under your bed for a quick second, reappearing with a pink strap-on. his eyes widen once again, as it was huge, and he’s never seen it before.

“i’m gonna use this on you!” you say, cheerily. “wouldn’t you like that? don’t you want mommy to be happy?” you continue.

“i want… yeah.. i want to make you happy.” he gulps in embarrassment, but he’s definitely willing.

you get back on the bed, on your knees, and strap the dildo to yourself, right in front of ethan. you smile at his expression, his eyes still wide and his mouth hanging open slightly. as the strap is now right in front of his face, he grows nervous again at the size. “that- that might hurt!” he blurts out, a light blush blossoming on his cheeks.

you stop your movements, and lean over so that you’re on your hands and knees, face directly in front of his. “please.. it’s nothing you haven’t done before, baby. and don’t act like you won’t enjoy it. i know you love it when your hole is filled, right? you’re such a whore.”

“i- dont! i dont! don’t call me that, mommy…” he pouts, and you can tell with every word that it’s a lie.

you slap his across the face harshly. “and are you going to keep lying to mommy tonight?” you laugh. “you’re being so naughty, baby.”

he flinches at your hit, but you can see him fighting the urge to smile. “i’m sorry, mommy… i lied. i love it when you fill me up.. and when you call me a whore..” he mutters the last part, but you let it slide this time.

“that’s a good boy..” you say, scooting closer to him on your knees so that your pink cock is right by his mouth. “gonna suck me off, baby? take me in your mouth first?”

he pauses, looking between you and the cock. “i- i… n-no! ma’am, i cant!” he says, his voice quivering.

you reach down and harshly grab his face with your right hand, forcing him to look at you. “and why can’t you?”

he flushes wildly, shaking his head back and forth, trying to avoid your question. “i just- i cant… it’s too much, mommy…”

“whats the matter, huh? is it too big for you?”

“i don’t wanna fail you, momma… but you’re just- you’re so.. big.” he says, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“you’re so pathetic.” you say at the sight of his tears. you don’t let him talk back, and instead force the tip of the dildo into his mouth, and he lets you. his mouth opens wide obediently, and you thrust in more. his eyes water even more now, gagging as tears begin to fall down his cheeks. he grabs a hold of your hips, trying to push you away, but you don’t give in.

you start fucking his face, and you coo at the sight of him, drool and tears all over his face. “so pretty…” you whisper, and it spurs him on a little. once you remove his hands from your hips, he begins stroking your fake cock in all the places his pretty little mouth couldn’t reach. you reach a hand down and begin to rub on his cock, making him groan around you. “such a good boy for me… sucking me so well, baby..” you continue praising him and stroking him a while he sucks you off.

you suddenly stop your ministrations on his cock, and squeeze it. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? you’re so disgusting, ethan.” you say as you remove your hand from him.

he whimpers, tears and drool continuing to flow. “hmmphf mmmph,” he groans out around your cock, face twisted up in a mixture of shame and embarrassment. you pull yourself slowly out and away from his mouth, your cock almost dripping with his saliva. you push him so that he’s now laying on the bed. he just stares at you, his face still so red.

you pull his legs up to his chest, observing the pretty gem in his ass. he feels so embarrassed, opting to look anywhere else. you hover over him, finally placing a kiss to his lips for the first time that night. he hums happily, but that soon turns into a whine, as your cock bumps against his. you look down, and giggle. you leave your hips against his, but lean up so that you two have a clear view of your huge cock next to his. you continue to giggle. “look at that, baby. you’re so small… my cock is so much bigger than yours!” you point out, laughing at him. he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red, and he hides his face in his hands.

“s-stop it, mommy…” he feels so humiliated, so dirty, but he loves it. “i-i’m not small..” he mumbles.

you giggle even more, which causes him to pout. “yes, you are! so tiny…” you say as you place light touches on his cock.

“mmmph…” ethan whimpers, his face flushing. he reaches up to wipe away his tears.

you look up at him one last time, before roughly trying to turn the boy over. “hands and knees, ethan.” you demand.

he does as told, turning over and getting on all fours. he keeps his head down, still embarrassed, but he doesn’t try to protest like he did earlier.

once he’s in position, you lightly tap on the gem, causing ethan’s breathing to hitch slightly. he’s nervous, you can tell. you grab the plug out and immediately replace it with your fingers, causing him to groan out at the stretch. you apply lube to his hole and your cock, and he flinches at the coldness.

“are you ready, baby?” you ask him, positioning your cock at his entrance.

“is it- is it gonna hurt?” he asks, his voice sounding so small. you smile at how cute he is.

“it might, baby. but it’s gonna feel so good, gonna fill you up juuust right.” you reassure him.

“o-okay…” he says, still unsure. “just be gentle, please, mommy?”

you don’t say anything to him this time. you spread his cheeks and open his hole slightly, pushing the tip of your cock inside of him. he takes it well, like the good boy he is. he moans out at the pressure, but the pressure soon turns into pain as you thrust in more.

he yelps, and tries to jump away from you. “‘s too much! i- i cant..” he cries out.

you land a harsh smack to his ass, which he immediately places his hand there after yours, trying to sooth the pain. “momma, please! i’m sorry, it- it hurts!” his voice cracks while he cries.

“i don’t care, ethan.” you respond back. “if you want to cum tonight, you’re gonna do it on my cock. understand?”

he lets out another sob, his body shaking, he can barely hold himself up at this point. he takes a deep sigh before responding. “y-yes, ma’am.” he lets his body drop on the bed and cries into the sheets. you caress his back soothingly, before trying to thrust in again.

he holds back a shriek, tears flowing down his cheeks again. he bites his lips, his hands clumping into tight fists, his eyes clamped tightly shut. he whimpers, not wanting to say anything, not wanting you to think he can’t do it. he wants to do this, for you.

you’re about halfway in once his body starts to reject your cock again. he’s too uptight, not loose enough for you to fit. you lean over his back, and start to lightly touch and play with his nipples, causing his arousal to spike even more than it already was. the sudden caresses catches ethan off guard, causing his mouth to open in a small gasp, a tiny whimpier escaping his lips. his body tenses slightly, but a small smile crosses his face, his grip on the bedsheets loosening just a little. you whisper in his ear, telling him to relax, and trying to shush his little cries. this and the stimulation to his nipples seem to open him up more, and you’re able to push the rest of the way in.

he’s whimpering loudly at this point, his body freezing as the initial pain of the stretch hits, but it quickly turns into pleasure, and ethan realizes it’s not as bad as he thought it was going to be.

you still for a minute, letting ethan catch his breath. “how’s that feel, baby?”

ethan winces, letting out another quiet whimper. his face is twisted up in a mixture of pleasure, pain and shame. “mphhh…” he groans against the bedsheets.

you laugh at him, causing him to grow embarrassed again. “what was that?” you tease him. “words, baby…”

he takes a breath, trying to steady himself. “i-it feels… good.” he says, almost sounding ashamed of himself.

an evil smile appears on your face as you begin sliding in and out of his tight hole at a fast pace. he cries out once more, his poor abused cock grazing against the bed sheets with every thrust. the pain shoots up his back, and he’s crying and babbling out words that you can’t understand. it doesn’t take much for ethan to finally feel the pleasure again, and his back arches involuntarily, and you find him pushing back onto your cock, instead of trying to push you away.

his eyes roll into the back of his head, his body shivering and convulsing underneath you, loud moans and whimpers falling freely from his mouth.

“yeah, that’s it, taking mommy’s cock like the slut you are…” you say, breathlessly. his moans continue, and you don’t let up, fucking into him relentlessly, showing no mercy.

it’s so intense for him, and he feels so good, and soon enough he feels that familiar sensation building up in his belly, and he starts thrusting back onto you again, meeting your thrusts. “use me, mommy.. use me, please,” he repeats over and over, and you can tell he’s so close.

“yeah.. take it baby, take it all… such a dirty fucking boy…” you thrust harder.

he feels no shame now, completely lost in the pleasure. he whimpers louder, the pleasure so intense that all he can do is cry. at your words, the coil in his belly finally snaps, and he releases all over your bed sheets, humping back and forth on the comforter and back against your cock.

after his intense orgasm, he slumps fully against the bed, laying in his own mess. you watch as his tight hole convulses against your cock, and you hum in satisfaction. his body is still shaking and quivering from the aftershocks of it all. you pull out of him, and he whines at the feeling of being completely empty. you lay next to him, neither of you saying anything, just staring at each other. ethan is almost asleep, but a mutters a quick, “thank you, mommy” to you. he sees your beautiful face, and he thinks about how he’s content being yours forever, living to serve you and only you. he would do absolutely anything for you.

[devastatinglygreen]

If im being completely honest there’s a big part of me that is afraid that the fallout from LW reveal will damage them to a place I won’t find myself rooting for them anymore. I mean what if he goes back to fake take Colin and there’s a whole Friends-esque ‘we were on a break!’ situation of him being with someone else? What if they call off the engagement entirely and all we end up with at the end of episode 8 is reunited Polin but nothing more? No wedding or babies or anything? I know it’ll be real bad and hurt and I know it needs to happen, I’m concerned about the journey they’ll take from the reveal to reconciliation. How bad do you see it getting? Broken engagement? Estranged until the last bit of episode 8 as other seasons have done? Would love to hear your thoughts!

i spent a while trying to figure out how to answer this without a bunch of spoilers and truthfully, the only thing i have is do you trust the story you're watching? what about the first part of season 3 made you think that's going to happen?

or did a bunch of the sky is falling blogs/twitter users/reddit threads give you anxiety?

and i mean that sincerely. even if they do something you don't particularly like, is your idea of the story stronger than the story itself and it hinders your overall enjoyment? those people are the ones who seem to be the most unhappy with season 3 so far.

also, i am pretty sure i know where the original freak out of the ross and rachel thing came about but luke newton said this:

i don't think he was talking about being on a break.

also they're following the book pretty well, or at least adding a good amount of it in there, and there's a whole plot/character growth for them happens after the wedding. a pretty important one at that.

i meant what i said in that i think the LW fight is going to be painful but i actually don't think the conflict will last all that long, tbh. not to bring up the book like it's gospel but seriously, colin is very aware of how society treats her and it colors the way he thinks of society because of it. he knows he's privileged and well liked and life is easier for him because of it.

eloise is still convinced that her every thought is the right one and overlooks penelope in a lot of ways which gives her sense of betrayal almost a prideful feel to it. colin is both in love with penelope and aware of her in a way that eloise isn't. i'm sure their fight will hurt and be angsty but love isn't a black and white proposition, it's got a lot more layers than that and colin's understanding and love of penelope would play into that i assume.

i suppose i'm just not worried about it. i don't have to like every part of a story to love the end result. i also don't think, after seeing how badly people reacted to every overblown spoiler/rumor, that people should take someone online on their word over the show itself and the people who worked on it.

[the-violet-galaxy]

I don’t want Old Moon to come back to life -- and I REALLY hope this arc doesn’t end with him being alive again, in any capacity.

In my opinion, bringing Old Moon back to life would be a terrible decision for everything, on all narrative fronts.

It’s true a lot of characters come back to life in TSAMS. When Lunar died, him getting resurrected was part of the story from the beginning (Monty located part of his nanomachine body and started work right away). Solar coming back to life has been a key point of this arc. Etc

But Old Moon's death was permanent. The story was that it couldn’t be undone.

So much of the story, angst, and arcs (New Moon’s entire life; Sun in so much pain from losing his brother) centered around Old Moon being gone for good.

What made Old Moon’s death so impactful WAS that it was permanent. He made the choice to die and Sun would never see him again. He would never meet Earth or bond with Lunar or Solar. The whole painful denial of closure.

But -- to be able to just… BRING HIM BACK TO LIFE, it cheapens everything. It retroactively makes everything, all the angst and character development involving the memory of Old Moon, lose what made it so good. (And now knowing it was possible from the very beginning??? Doubly so. So many sad moments are tainted knowing that Monty was sitting off to the side, awkwardly whistling and twiddling his thumbs.)

Because the story was written this way, bringing Old Moon back is one of those things that shouldn’t be touched. Some characters need to die and stay dead.

(I was even hesitant when Monty first brought up that Moon could talk to his old self. I was worried this meant Old Moon was still “technically alive”, which would lead to the cheapening of things. But, when they said Old Moon was just an “instinctual copy”/comatose at all times, I was a little reassured; that was manageable. The show even stressed that Old Moon wasn’t actually alive; Monty said it plainly that he couldn’t take over, he was just an instinctual copy. New Moon himself said “he knows he’s dead. He knows he's isn't going to come back.”

So…

Why are we playing with the idea of him coming back now!? After all that!?

And bringing him back wouldn’t FIX anything. Not for Sun or the family --

Recently, Sun disowned New Moon, and started talking about how toxic Old Moon really was towards him.

And we saw how Old Moon acted while comatose. Even in DEATH, Old Moon didn’t really want to change who he was or how he behaved. He even says he’s afraid of talking to Sun because of what he might say. If he won’t change after experiencing death, he is probably never going to. If he comes back, he’ll most likely go right back to being the exact same asshole.

And we know that Sun has developed enough to finally not take it. He would NOT let Old Moon treat him like that anymore. He is willing to cut a toxic family member out of his life.

So, what -- would the story just bring Old Moon back, have him be the same asshole that Sun has moved beyond, and then have Sun put his foot down and do a second disownment? I just don’t see the point in that.

Even if something really dumb happens, like Old Moon is given a SECOND BODY so that there are both Moons at the same time… are they just gonna have Old Moon be exiled from the family and become a drifter side character out in the world, who only shows up to cameo once in a while? That would not be satisfying --  and I doubt Old Moon would be happy being away from the family, seeing how the show hammers in how his family is the only thing he cares about.

(And you can’t have him hanging around as a permanent member of the cast alongside New Moon – you’d have to juggle two Moon characters, which just seems like a HUGE headache for everyone and could get confusing for the viewers trying to keep who is who straight. I’m sure that acting for two Moons in every scene would also be a pain in the ass for the voice actors. Plus, New Moon is just THE MOON of The Sun and Moon Show now; are they going to alternate between which Moon is doing the gaming videos??? That’d be a mess.)

(The only other option is to fuse both Moons into Moon-V.3. which is. Please no. We’ve already had a Moon reset, and this would essentially be the same thing, creating a whole new person. It’s redundant, we’ve done that before. Please do something else.)

New Moon is a real piece of work right now and I don't like this arc, but this is his story to conclude. Not Old Moon's. New Moon has to deal with the repercussions of what he's done to the family (and it's looking like Dark Sun has been controlling him or nudging his personality, so he might not be as guilty as we initially thought; we'll have to see the extent of how much control Dark Sun had). New Moon has to face the consequences of his actions himself. In a way, Old Moon ran away from his consequences when he let himself die, he never had to face up to what he did or atone with his own hands; New Moon needs to stay and face what he's done in this story, he needs to face what happened to the family. Even if it's revealed it's not entirely his fault, he needs to stay. (If he does stay, he will actually be better than Old Moon, who ran away.)

If Old Moon HAS to come back, there’s just one way I can think of that I’d want it to go, but this is already long enough, so I’ll save it for later. I just wanted to throw my opinion out here.

TLDR: I don’t want Old Moon to come back to life AT ALL because it will cheapen the story and his death, and if he comes back to life there’s no satisfying place for him.

[sunshiline-writes]

A Rose Amidst Thorns #14: Are You Dead or Are You Sleeping?

Previous | Masterlist | Next Solomon has weird dreams and Xavier is.. Xavier

This chapter is a bit short and sweet. But it's for a reason : )

CW: nonconsensual drugging, hallucinations, manipulation, creepy comfort, creepy/initimate whumper, POC whump

Solomon was suspended in the air. Floating carefully between consciousness and dreams. His eyes were shut, no matter how hard he tried to open them, he could not see. Sometimes he was aware enough in the waking world to hear Xavier talk over him. He only ever heard enough to know three things. 

Xavier thought that what he had done was necessary. 

He was not allowed to see Miguel or Henrietta until he said so. 

He was going to wake up soon and he would be in pain. 

Whenever he was awake for long enough, his face ached and throbbed. His cheekbone was probably broken. His nose too. Solomon could feel it. The way it pulsated was one of the signs. The fact that he was still in pain after a week of being in bed the way he was another sign. His whole body ached. He was sure that his ribs were broken too. Luckily enough, he was still breathing, which meant they hadn’t punctured a lung. He counted the pains. Made them the forefront of his mind. Solomon needed to do that so he could wake up. Truly wake up. Not just float into consciousness. 

He was so tired of floating. Why wasn’t he waking up? 

When he was dreaming, he dreamed he was praying. Truly praying. First to the North, then to the East, the South, the West. The directions of the Earth. He prayed to find balance within himself, within the world. Solomon wondered if prayers in dreams could be heard. Was it still a prayer if the Creator could not hear it? He didn’t know.  

There was a voice in the dream. Calling to him. 

“Solomon. Solomon? Are you dead or are you sleeping?” 

Neither, both. It was hard to tell. 

“There you go. Now you’re breathing. Thought I couldn’t see your chest movin’ for a second there.”

 A hand was across his forehead. Cool to the touch. Oh. He must have had a fever. That was why he was so tired. Unable to wake up. An infection perhaps. The voice continued to talk. Hovering over him. There was a hand that moved his hair out of his face. He hated this. Everything about it. His body was heavy and he was cold. Freezing. Like he was covered in snow. He missed snow. It never snowed here. It was always warm, the closest he ever got was the winter rainfall that always came in January. “Shush now. You’re okay. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you did. I needed to make certain that you’d never try anything again with her.” The voice sounded so far away, but the words sunk in deep. The chill went straight to his bones. “Everything is gonna be okay. It’s gon’ be a bit different when you get rid of this fever. But it’ll be worth it. For me, for you, for them. It’ll be easier when everyone knows their place. You guys won’t have each other to feed off of for a while. I think I can take care of them both with very little help from you know. I’ve watched you long enough.” A low moan left Solomon as he tried to sit up. This was wrong. Something was so wrong here. He could feel it in the air. His breath caught in his throat and he coughed. A sound of discomfort came from Xavier. Ah yes.. That was who was

 in his room. Touching him. Clarity struck him like a slap to the face. “You can’t,” he begged. “I can. You’ve started to believe they belong to you or something. I’m afraid this is necessary, Solomon.” 

His body shook with the effort as he tried to throw the comforter off himself. Xavier pressed his hands on his chest. Clicking his tongue with a look of disappointment. Solomon took another deep breath and choked on it. Another coughing fit left him. “See Solomon? You’ve made yourself sick over them. Worrying and taking care of them. I’m helping you. Drink this,” Xavier held a cup of something warm to his lips. Solomon tried to turn his head, but he couldn’t escape as Xavier pressed more firmly. “Drink it Solomon. It’ll help you sleep. You need to rest. You won’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything for you. Just sleep.” 

He was too weak to struggle as the bitter tea was poured down his throat. Solomon swallowed and gasped for air. Xavier did not stop pouring until the drink was gone. He smoothed his hair again. Solomon groaned, feeling the world sway beneath him despite laying down. Xavier sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. Solomon’s skin crawled, he wanted to scream. He wanted to grab his wrist and shove him away. His limbs were too heavy, everything was too heavy. 

Solomon frowned. He had been drugged hadn’t he? Had Xavier really been watching him that closely? Or something worse; making Miguel create whatever concoction this was. He didn’t even have the strength to flinch when Xavier cupped his cheek, thumb running over the bruise along his cheekbone. 

“Go to sleep Solomon.” 

Solomon couldn’t disobey. His eyes were too heavy. Closing his eyes, he was pulled under. Sleep was a blissful escape from the way Xavier’s hand tugged at his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. 

When he dreamt again, he heard the yowling of coyotes in the night. Walking forward, through the desert, he heard the hooting of an owl. Solomon turned toward it, making eye contact. Death was near. The owl flew toward him, and he was plunged into darkness again. __

TAGLIST:

@demondamage @burntcoffeewhump @angst-after-dark @just-a-silly-little-whumper @tictac-murder-spaghetti @crash-bump-bring-the-whump @whumpifi

@flowersarefreetherapy @badgerwhump @whumpbees @whumplr-reader

ask if you'd like to be added or removed!!

[maramontwrites]

The Boy and the Wolf

Nathan groaned and cuddled closer to his boyfriend. He hadn’t had a period in ages, but yesterday the testosterone failed him and made it come back even worse than he remembered. Luckily the cuddling was a very good remedy against cramps. Tears started to form in his eyes when Nathan remembered his last boyfriend, who had yelled at him for ‘acting too much like a woman’ when he had complained about the pain.

“Oh no, baby, what’s wrong?” Malcolm asked, a worried look in his eyes, immediately wiping the tears off his face and gently kissing his forehead. “Does it still hurt?”

Nathan chuckled at his boyfriend’s inexperience with anything to do with the female body. “Well, yes, but it’s not that. I was just thinking about how amazing you are.”

Malcolm’s face turned red, while Nathan nestled his face into his chest. “Really? Oh,” Mal said, looking a bit startled by the sudden compliment. “Thank you. I think you’re amazing too.” Malcolm pulled his boyfriend tighter to his chest, his hands gripped around his back like letting go would make him disappear.

Nathan winced as sharp nails penetrated his skin and pulled out of Mal’s grip. “Sorry, I think you just hugged me too hard, as wrong as that sounds,” he chuckled when Mal looked confused, but when he laid back down to continue cuddling, he noticed Mal’s nail being sharper and pointier than normal.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice,” Mal said, lifting up his hands to pull Nate close again, but instead seeing the strange nails too. “Oh, shit.” He jumped out of bed and grabbed his phone, which was a lot harder to do with claws instead of fingers. “It’s full moon tonight. I’m so sorry, I forgot, I should go home now, I’m sorry” He rushed to the door before Nate could stop him, not even bothering to put on his shoes.

“Mal, wait!” Nathan pulled his boyfriend away from the door. “You can stay here, it’s alright.” He had known about Malcolm real nature for a while now, but they had never been together when he transformed. Even so, Malcolm had taken such good care of him while he was at his lowest, and Nathan was willing to do the same.

“But I could hurt you!” Malcolm exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes. Both his hands and feet were slowly turning claw-shaped, and Nate could see sharp teeth growing in his mouth. They did indeed look like they could easily hurt someone. “I didn’t prepare well, I don’t know what I’ll do. I might be dangerous! I don’t want you to be locked in here with me.”

“Mal, please, I know you won’t hurt me.” Nathan kissed him, feeling the fangs with his tongue, but Malcolm pulled away.

“You don’t know that! I’m not me when I’m… transformed. I’m not conscious, I won’t recognize you. I really might hurt you!” He was crying now, his tears getting caught in the fur growing on his face.

“I’ll take that chance,” Nathan said, determined to take care of his boyfriend, no matter what. “You shouldn’t go out like this anyway.” He gestured to the dog-like ears that had appeared on his head. “It would be more dangerous outside than in here.”

Mal nodded, swallowing back the tears. “Yeah, you’re right, that would be worse. Just… be careful, alright? Save yourself, under any circumstances. If you think I might hurt you, leave. If you need to, defend yourself and don’t be afraid to hurt or even kill me, alright?”

“You won’t hurt me,” Nathan said, uneasy by the thought of having to kill his boyfriend in self-defence.

 “Just promise me!”

“Alright, I promise,” Nate conceded. He looked at Malcolm’s body, now growing in proportions that are not natural for a human. “What do you need me to do to help you?”

Malcolm hesitated, looking at his claw-hands. “I need to get out of these clothes, but I can’t do it myself like this. Can you help me?”

“Ooh, helping you get naked? Of course I can do that!” Nathan said, briefly forgetting the gravity of the situation, and he started undressing his boyfriend, paying extra attention when pulling off his underwear.

“Nate, focus! Now’s not the time!” Malcolm said.

“Right, sorry. What else?” Nate asked, struggling to focus when his favourite person was naked in front of him, even when he was covered in fur.

“I need to eat as much as possible, preferably meat.” Malcolm made his way to the fridge, pulling out the leftover of the pizza they had shared earlier that evening.

“Yeah, I bet you want to eat that meat,” Nate joked, his mind still somewhere else.

“Nathan, I’m serious!” Malcolm said, his voice breaking and tears streaking his face again. “If I don’t eat, I might… I might kill you. You need to make sure I eat this and you need to stay safe. Do you promise?”

“I’m sorry, I promise,” Nate said, pulling his boyfriend into his arms. He wanted to kiss him one more time, but Malcolm’s face had changed too much. Nate took the pizza and backed away, afraid of what kind of monster he would need to face.

Malcolm didn’t look much like a wolf, more like a big dog with brown fur and large teeth. He growled, his eyes fixed on the box of pizza. Nathan opened it and slid it away from him, trying to keep his distance from the creature that was supposed to be his boyfriend, but Malcolm approached him, yellow eyes focused on his face. He sniffed Nate’s body, starting with his hands where the smell of pizza lingered, and ending by sticking his nose into his crotch.

“Hey, rude!” Nathan exclaimed, trying to shoo away the dog but avoiding getting his hands near those teeth, but Mal had already lost interest and moved on to the pizza.

Nate slowly came closer, now more sure that he wouldn’t get eaten himself, while Malcolm had already finished most of the pizza and was ripping apart the last piece.

“Wow, you must’ve been hungry. I should order more pizza the next time you come over,” Nate said, only half-jokingly, and he extended his hand to pet his boyfriend’s head. But Malcolm, having just eaten the last piece of pizza, growled and made a biting motion at his arm. Nathan quickly pulled his hand away and stepped away, but Malcolm followed him, still growling and showing his teeth. Nate scrambled back, remembering Mal’s advice to leave, while he was chased into the kitchen by the same person who gave him that advice, now with no way to follow it.

Nate stumbled into the kitchen counter, the wolf’s sharp teeth very close to his vulnerable body. This is it, this is how I die, he thought, trying to climb onto the counter, but gave up when realising that the wolf could still easily reach him there.

The wolf jumped up, his front paws on the edge of the counter, baring his teeth in front of Nate’s neck and… licked his boyfriends face, before jumping back down again.

Nathan was frozen, processing what had just happened. “What was that about?!” he finally exclaimed when he had made sure his heart was still beating. He wiped the sweat and dog drool off his face and crouched down next to Malcolm, who took that as an invitation to lay his head down on his lap. Nathan laughed while scratching him behind his ears. “You scared me. Don’t do that again.” He pressed his face against that of the dog – his boyfriend – and gently kissed his nose. “I told you you wouldn’t hurt me.”

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ruki Maniac [Prologue]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the forest

Ruki: ...

...Oi. How many times do I need to tell you not to follow me? You go back to the other guys.

Yui: ...Why did you tell me where you’re going if you didn’t want me to tag along?

I refuse to go back until you answer that question. 

Ruki: ...So you’ve chosen to disobey me?

Yui: I’m not disobeying or anything. But...I’ve already made up my mind. That I won’t let you go through this alone.

Ruki: ...

...Haah. You have become quite arrogant. I honestly miss the days when I had you under my full control.

Yui: I mean, I wouldn’t be able to walk alongside you if all I did was obey, right?

Ruki: Good grief...At times, you are incredibly bothersome.

Yui: ( Uu...It’s kind of a shock to hear those words from him... )

Ruki: You might end up regretting coming with me, you know? ...Will you join me regardless?

Yui: Yes...I’ll go. Because I want to accept you, no matter what you choose to do.

Ruki: ...I’m envious of you.

Yui: Eh? 

Ruki: You’re coming along because that’s what you want, right? You follow your own heart and desires. 

Yui: I-I know that it’s selfish of me. But...

Ruki: That wasn’t meant as an insult. I even admitted to being envious, remember?

I am...terrified of giving in to my own desires. 

When I consider that one day, I might have no other choice but to admit to the ugly monster which resides inside of me...I am overcome by fear.

However, despite being scared, I am still unable to let go of those desires. In that sense, I suppose you could call me selfish too. 

Yui: ...This desire you speak of would be ‘becoming Adam’, right?

Ruki: Yes. 

That’s why it hurt to be told that I’m not acting like myself. It felt as if being confronted with the fact that the desires inside my heart were flurrying out of control. 

Yui: Is that how you got into an argument with Yuma-kun...?

Ruki: Well, pretty much.

I realize that reaching for those desires will lead to my own demise...Yet I fear that the second I let my guard down, I’ll succumb under the temptation. 

So far, my remaining sense of logic has always managed to snap me back to reality but...In the end I remain stuck in this vicious cycle. 

As if I am being possessed by the Devil...it repeats. Time after time. 

Yui: Is that...because of me? Is that why you tried to go alone? 

Ruki: ...I wonder? That wasn’t my intention, but you might be onto something. 

I am honestly starting to have trouble differentiating between what are my true feelings and what are just made-up lies. ...I’m lacking confidence. 

Perhaps I decided to go to the Sakamaki Castle because I want confirmation. 

That I will be able to suppress my own desires, even when what I yearn for is right there in front of my eyes. 

Yui: ...In that case, I think I should come with you after all. 

Ruki: To stop me in case I try to murder Sakamaki Shuu? 

Yui: No. For when things become painful for you. 

Because I’m already aware that it hurts even more when I’m not with you.

Ruki: ...You really are a pain. However, it was that side of you which saved me. 

If you’re that insistent, be my guest. But I am leaving you behind if you take too long. 

ー The scene shifts to the guest room at Eden

Yuma: ーー Ouch! Oi, Azusa! Can’t ya be a lil’ gentler!?

Azusa: My bad...But it’s important to disinfect that wound...

Kou: You brought this upon yourself. You shouldn’t have lost your temper...That being said, he got you pretty good, huh?

Yuma: Ruki actually didn’t hold back for once. How old is he, five?

Kou: Not sure if you have the right to call him out on that?

Azusa: You are...very worried about him, aren’t you...?

Yuma: ...Rather than worried, it just pisses me off to see him act like mister perfect.

I know that’s just the kinda guy he is, but it’s not like anyone is forcin’ him to, right?

It’s not like any of us would judge him for tryin’ to achieve his own desires.

Azusa: ...In Ruki’s case, he probably isn’t afraid of what others think, but of himself. 

Even if he knows that he won’t get ‘punished’ for it, I believe he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Kou: It’s not like he’s a monk or anything...He should try to live his life a little more freely.

Azusa: But...I believe it was that side of him which saved us.

I’m sure you guys remember as well, right? Back when we still lived at the orphanageーー 

ー A flashback to the orphanage ensues

Ruki: ーー Oi, Kou. What do you have there!?

Kou: Uwah! Ruki-kun! Ah-ahー I’m busted...

Ruki: Hand me that right now! ...Who gave you this? 

Kou: ...A bad adult.

Ruki: ...How many times do I have to tell you!? Don’t dirty your hands with this kind of crap!

I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of times how people ruined themselves with it, no!? (1)

Kou: I’ll only use a little. It’ll be fine. Why don’t you try some as well?

Ruki: Don’t be ridiculous! ...Do you want to die before you get a chance at seeing the blue skies?

Kou: ...!

...You’re right. I’m sorry, Ruki-kun. I’ll throw this away at once.

Ruki: Bear, you too!

Bear: Hah! Hold on! I’m not doin’ that shit!?

Ruki: I’m talking about something else. You stole some food from one of the guards this morning, didn’t you? Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? 

Bear: Uu...But that guy really pissed me off with what he said! And I was hungry too...

Ruki: That still isn’t a reason to risk causing unnecessary trouble. Good grief, I take my eyes off you guys for two seconds and this happens.

Bear: Dad Ruki is in the house again...

Kou: Shush. ...We’re at fault this time. 

ー The flashback ends

Kou: ...I guess you’re right, Azusa-kun.

Ruki-kun would always steer clear of trouble. That’s why he’d stop us without fail whenever we were reckless. 

I guess we kind of depended on him in that regard. 

Yuma: ...Guess so. I do think we managed to get through those tough times ‘cause he always kept his shit together.

Ruki wouldn’t pull stupid shit like we did. It just seemed impossible for him.

Azusa: Yeah...I do think...that we kind of forced that ideal image on him in a way.

Kou: Then...Could it be our fault that Ruki-kun turned out to be the serious, stoic guy he is today? 

Yuma: When ya think ‘bout it like that, we really were in no position to judge him for actin’ out of character...We’re the ones who forced him to behave that way in the first place.

Azusa: Don’t you think that our encounter with Karlheinz-sama only made it even worse...?

Ruki always tried to become that man’s ideal son after all...

Kou: Even though...Karlheinz-sama is no longer in this world...

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall of the Sakamaki Castle

Laito: Oh dear...Who do we have here?

Shuu: ...What do you need?

Ruki: It’s nothing serious but...I do have one request. 

Could we stay in the neighboring wing for a short ーー no, for a while. 

Shuu: ...

Ayato: Haah? You’ve gotta be kiddin’, right? Why would we let you staーー

Shuu: Be my guest.

ー Shuu walks away

Ayato: Oi, Shuu!? Are you for real!?

Laito: I guess there’s nothing we can do if that’s what our King has decided.  I’ll drop by sometime, okay, Bitch-chan~?

ー Laito walks away as well

Ruki: ...Much obliged. 

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Ruki: I’m going to the library. You can roam around as you wish.

Yui: Sure.

ー Ruki leaves

Yui: ( ...I’d love to be there for him, but it’s important to give him space to think things over by himself, isn’t it? )

Monologue

If he were to become Adam,

Ruki-kun would be freed from his current suffering.

However, the price he’d have to pay is simply too large.

He cannot let Shuu-san be the victim of this.

Ruki-kun knows this as well. 

That is exactly why,

he has chosen to punish himself like this.

I do not want him to fight with Shuu-san. 

However, at the same time,

I obviously don’t want Ruki-kun to suffer either.

Yui: ( I can’t say what the best option here is but... )

( I just hope there’s a way in which Ruki-kun’s pain can be soothed at least a little... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) With Japanese being the vague language it is, the game’s dialogue never explicitly states what exactly it is Kou is trying to use behind Ruki’s back. However, judging from the dialogue, it seems highly likely that it’s some kind of drug which was distributed amongst these kids. Most likely it was a way for them to escape from the misery of their everyday life, but then they get hooked and it all goes downhill from there.

[allthesunlightwecansee]

Personal Issues with Witchcraft and Worship

I’ve been trying to figure out how I wanted to word this for my own documentation and I think I’ve figured it out. I haven’t been practicing for very long, but I struggle with the way that other people practice vs what is realistic and practical for me as person, based on both my abilities and preferences. I know that everyone’s practice is unique, but it’s difficult when I WANT to do some of these things and either can’t or don’t. The biggest one for me is a connection to nature. I think nature is beautiful and I have a huge appreciation for it, but the only nature I’ve ever felt comfortable being in is the ocean, and occasionally just being outside in the winter. I have EDS, a connective tissue disorder that affects every part of my body and hinders the way I can comfortably interact with nature. I can’t regulate my body temperature, and heat and humidity ramps this up x100, so being outside if it’s not overcast and 40 degrees out is exhausting, painful, and potentially dangerous. I also have intense reactions to bug bites, which seem to happen nearly every time I leave the house anymore. Particularly since I work with and worship the sun god and the hunt goddess, this lack of connection to nature sometimes makes me feel lacking, even though I appreciate my deities and nature in my own ways. I still wish I could, and have tried repeatedly, to comfortably exist outside and it just…doesn’t work for me.

Smaller things include things like smoke cleansing and meditation. With smoke cleansing in particular, it’s not a big deal because I usually use spray and sound cleansing instead, but I still wish I could do it because it’s apart of both the culture I come from and the practices I follow. I find meditation doesn’t work for me because I usually spend a decent amount of time daydreaming and being in my own head, so meditation is almost too easy for me and doesn’t always have the desired effect. I’ve seen different takes on mediation in different spiritual spaces, but it comes up a lot in books I’ve read and it’s just something that I don’t connect with as much.

This last one is totally on me, but I also wish I had more of an irl community. A small portion of this is because I can’t always afford some of the events that are put on by local metaphysical stores, but mostly it’s because I’m kind of…not quite afraid to, but something like that. I’m worried of coming off as shy and ignorant, which I know practically that I probably won’t but I do worry about it, and I also worry about telling people about it. I live with my partner and while he’s not a mean or judgmental person towards me, he’s definitely a skeptic and doesn’t believe in anything he can’t see. While I don’t think he’d be mean or anything if I were to go to an event (hell, he went to an event labeled Pagan Picnic with me because they had a bunch of vendors), I don’t really want to have the conversation about beliefs with him since this has largely developed after we started dating because I feel uncomfortable about it. I wish I could just go and avoid the conversation completely, you know? I don’t know.

But yeah, I wanted to make this post both for myself, so that I can hopefully look back on this in the future and have moved past some of this, but also to point out how people with disabilities and other health issues don’t always practice the same way that able bodied people do, in more than just low energy ways.

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane’s Pets: Chapter 67: Discomfort

TWs in the tags

Previous

Masterlist

Next

You’ve come to find a thrill in discomfort. When you’re almost having a panic attack or flashback, but not quite. Even more, you enjoy the lightheaded relief you feel when you do something that makes you uncomfortable and nothing bad happens.

You say your name over and over again, using relaxation techniques the others have taught you each time. You recover from the panic faster and faster as you practice.

Things are good. Things are great, even if you’re having nightmares every night and need ibuprofen to get through the most basic of tasks without horrible pain. Jane isn’t controlling you anymore, so things are good. You managed to keep the collar off for three hours yesterday.

You wish you could remember what you used to call Puppy and Kitty. You’d write those names down too, and eventually say them, and then when they finally let Barron save them you won’t be calling them animal names.

No, no need to think about them right now, it doesn’t help anything.

You and Barron have been getting to know each other, though mostly in the company of Greg and Diya. You want to push yourself further.

“I’m going for a walk. Do you want to come with, Barron?"

It looks surprised. “…Sure.”

It’s a very quiet walk. Your heart pounds and pounds and your legs feel weak, being alone with someone who could hurt you so easily.

“I’m worried about you.” Barron says out of nowhere.

“Hm?”

“You’re making so much progress so fast. Which is great! But… I’m worried you’ll burn yourself out.”

“I already talked about this with Diya and Greg. I’m going slow. I still sleep with the collar on and I’m not going to ask you to call me Liam” deep breath “until I can say it without feeling afraid.”

“I see. That’s good. I’m glad they talked to you about it.”

You nod. You think you’re doing really well. Making lots of progress while still being gentle with yourself. What more could any of them want?

You don’t talk for the rest of the walk. When you get back, you take some ibuprofen and try to read a few more pages of the nightmare book you picked.

Things are good. Things are great. You find a thrill in discomfort, which is good, because you’re always, always feeling it. Always scared, so why not feel scared while doing something that’ll help instead of feeling scared doing nothing? You think you’re handling everything very well. You dream of Puppy and Kitty screaming, of kind strangers being slaughtered in front of you, of every bone in your body breaking and your name being repeated as you’re shocked over and over and over-

Everything’s fine. You don’t mind the discomfort. You like it! It’s fine.

~~

Before showering, Kitty grabs some clothes to change into. They move mostly on autopilot, but freeze when they notice all of their clothes with pockets have had them sewn closed.

Well. They don’t need those. They don’t have a phone or anything to carry around, anyway. And they’d definitely rather wear clothes with the pockets sewn closed than go back into the basement.

Kitty spends much longer cleaning themself than they need to, but Jane didn’t say to hurry. They… should be fine.

It’s nice to feel clean. It’s not like Jane was letting them out of sensory deprivation to use the bathroom, and sitting in their own filth for so long left them feeling less than human. Like the animal Jane claimed they were.

Kitty leaves the bathroom to look for Jane and Puppy. Jane said she wanted to talk.

Kitty wants to have a nice meal of human food and go to bed on a mattress with blankets wrapped around them. Hopefully this talk will be quick.

They can’t find anyone in the kitchen or living room or bathroom. Puppy’s not in her room.

Shit, did Jane want them to go back into the basement? They don’t want to do that, what if this was another trick giving them false hope and she’s going to put them right into sensory deprivation again? They don’t want that, they can’t do any more, they can’t!

They check every room again, and no ones there. They’re going to have to go back into the basement.

They stand outside the basement door, trying to psych themself up to go back down. It’ll just be worse if Jane thinks they were purposefully avoiding it. She probably already thinks that-

“Kitty.”

Kitty flinches and turns around. Jane lounges on the couch.

“Come here.”

Kitty obeys and sits next to Jane.

“Kneel.”

They sink to the floor.

“Good Kitty.” Jane pets their hair, and then produces a cat ear headband. They fight the urge to roll their eyes she places it on their head.

“You’ve spent too long thinking that you could get around my rules. I bet it made you feel safer, huh? That you knew that as long as you followed the letter of the law, you wouldn’t be punished. We aren’t going to do that anymore. I still expect you to follow the rules, of course, but deliberate disrespect will also be punished. And anything I don’t like!” She strokes their cheek. “I guess, really, the change is that obedience isn’t enough anymore. I want /compliance/. Got it?”

Kitty nods. “Yes, Master.”

They think they get the headband now. It’s a test. She never said to keep it on, so it wouldn’t be disobedient to take it off. But it also wouldn’t be compliant.

Jane pats their head. “I still need to discipline Puppy a bit more. Are you going to be good if I leave you alone?”

Kitty’s heart sinks. Of course Puppy’s still in the basement, that’s why they couldn’t find her anywhere. Maybe they weren’t down there as long as they thought… but their fingers were broken when it started, and they’re healed now. And Puppy’s going to be in the basement even longer.

“It was my fault, Master, please. Let her upstairs. It was my fault. I can- I can take her place.”

They’re bluffing, though to whom they’re not sure. They can’t go back down there, can’t take anymore, even to save Puppy from what must be objectively worse than sitting there with a blindfold and headphones on.

Jane grabs their chin and pulls their face up to hers until they’re nose to nose.

“I’m going to say this once, because I’m feeling fair today. There will be no more negotiating punishments. I’m the only one who decides who gets hurt and how and how long, unless I explicitly tell you to choose. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Are you going to be good if I leave you alone?”

“Yes, Master.”

Jane releases their chin and pats their cheek. “Good Kitty.” She disappears.

Kitty stays kneeling on the ground and takes a few deep breaths. They’ll just eat something real quick and go to bed. Oh, it’ll be so nice to eat real food and lie on something other than concrete.

They slowly stand up onto shaking legs. Puppy will be okay. She’s tough. It’ll be okay. They should just enjoy being out of the basement.

Kitty eats some yogurt. They’d like to eat more, they’re so hungry, but their stomach isn’t used to digesting things yet. Honestly, the yogurt is pushing it after they had the cat food, but they need to taste and smell something nice.

They eat slowly, savoring each bite. It’s too quiet and every noise is too loud. They’re so tired. How can just sitting in the basement with a blindfold and headphones on be so exhausting?

When they finish their yogurt, they go to their room and curl up in bed. They close their eyes and immediately open them again. Too dark. They wish Puppy was here, she always takes care of them after sensory deprivation.

They cringe at the thought. They shouldn’t be wishing Puppy was here for their own sake, she’s being tortured.

A scream rings out from the basement. They cover their ears and quickly uncover them, it’s too much like the headphones. At least it’s not too quiet anymore…

They turn on the lights in their room and open the windows, then lie back down. Now, when they close their eyes, it’s red instead of dark.

Puppy screams. Kitty tries to ignore it. They can’t do anything about it.

It’s… fine. Kitty’ll just play nice for a while, like they always do, and then things will go back to normal.

Oh god. They’re hoping things will go back to normal. That horrible, horrible status quo. They’re hoping for it. They want Bunny back and they want to only have to worry about being obedient instead of being compliant.

They… don’t hope for freedom anymore. Just a slightly more comfortable hell.

They really need some sleep.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz

[diamondangelkitten]

Vierapril Day 7: Celestial

“Let me see them!” “I’m sorry Madam, but we cannot let you do that.” “Do you know who I am?” “Yes, and I’m afraid that still doesn’t change my answer.”

Annabeth wakes to a very irate Alira yelling through a door. As she turns towards the sound to answer, a familiar hand stops her, “You’re awake!” “Gaius, yes I, Gaius! Wait, you’re here? In,” she casts a glance around the room, “You’re here in Sharlyan with me?” He nods, “Yes, Lucia and Maximus were able to get Aymeric to vouch for me coming here. Are you alright? Are you in pain?” Now that she is properly awake, she takes a moment to survey her injuries. “I think I’m alright? I do have some dull aches, but nothing terrible.” “Annabeth!! Are you up?! Please let me in.” Gaius sighs, “She’s still mad at you for sending her away first. Terribly grateful too, in all honesty, when she held Sibbie again, but still mad.” Annabeth chuckles, “Aye, we knew that would happen.” She raises her voice, “You can let her in!”

Alira bursts through the door, letting the poor doctor who unlocked the door fall to the floor. “Oh my gods, you’re alive! I’ve had no idea how any of you are! I mean, I saw you back on the ship, and oh gods, Alinea, but I’ve been so worried about you all.” At the mention of Alinea, Annabeth freezes. Then before Gaius or Alira can stop her, she swings her legs off the bed and tries to jump up. “Alinea, where is she? She sent me away too! Damn it!” She falls to the floor as soon as she tries to put weight on her legs. “Will you all stop misbehaving? You’re the damn warriors of light, not school children?!” The doctor clamps a hand over his mouth at his outburst. Annabeth sees Alira’s eyes flash with anger, and she starts praying for the doctor’s safety.

Alira turns to the doctor, slowly stalking towards him. “Yes, sir, you are correct. Yes, we should be protecting ourselves and listening to you to ensure we heal for our later years. However, we four have been through hell and high water together, and we do not know how one, nay two, of our own are because you have kept them from us. Do I understand this is for their wellbeing? Yes, but at the same time, I have not been separated from these girls for more than a week, a week, do you understand me? And that is when I was laid in bed after having a child?!” The Sharlyan doctor is properly cowering now, but Annabeth has to agree at Alira’s outburst. It has been the four of them for so long that they can’t help but be protective of the others. And if they’re not allowed in Aurora or Alinea’s rooms… How bad are they?

The doctor sighs, “Come along then. Maybe there is something that we can do.” Alira nods and walks back to Annabeth, “Here I’ll support this side, Gaius you take the other.” He nods and they support Annabeth as they walk along the hall to the room next to Annabeth's. They pass Sid in the hallway who just looks at Annabeth and nods as she walks by. She can only imagine how hard he’s been trying to keep Alira calm. The doctor stops outside the next door. “This is Aurora Calypso’s room. There are already guests in there, which is why we won’t let you in, but let’s ask for Y’shtola’s help." He taps a linkpearl in his ear, and within moments, Y’shtola is at their side. The doctor runs through his plan with for doing magic to the wall to allow it to be translucent, just enough for Alira and Annabeth to see what’s on the other side. Y’shtola gives them a warning, “She is the one far worse for wear.”

Sid has come to stand alongside Alira and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Y’shtola and the doctor cast their magics and they see Aurora, so small and tiny, covered in bandages. Her father, and grandfather, are keeping watching over her. “There’s been no change since she’s arrived a week ago. She’s made no movement or anything. She’s breathing all on her own, but she’s in a coma. We’re not sure if she’ll make it or not.” Alira’s grateful that Sid is beside her as her own legs give out underneath her, almost causing a painful slip for Annabeth, but Sid is there and he keeps them both steady. Tears run down Annabeth’s eyes, but she doesn’t say a word. The doctor and Y’shtola end their magic and go down to the last room in the hall.

“Alira saw a bit of this as it was happening, but Alinea is the most changed for her journey to Ultima Thule.” Y’shtola says. Annabeth feels Alira tense up, but nothing could prepare her for what she sees. Alinea is covered head to toe in the most beautiful celestial markings she could ever imagine. There’s not a bit that escapes her, not her fingers or her face. She seems to be breathing peacefully, but as if she senses them, her eyes open and they shine brighter than ever before. “Even her hair glows now.” Annabeth looks and sees that Alira is right. Alinea looks over to the side and seems to say something though they cannot make it out. A few seconds later, Estinien opens the door and says, “She wants to see them. Let them have some time together.” He leaves as Annabeth and Alira go in. 

They stay with Alinea until the sun starts to set and the doctor shoos them back to their own rooms. Annabeth’s legs have gradually gotten stronger and she can eventually hold her own weight. She turns to Alira, “I’m not tired yet and I’ve got something I want to do. Break out of here with me?” Alira laughs, “I thought you’d never ask. Cover for us will you boys?” Sid and Gaius have no say in the matter for Alira and Annabeth head out of the hospital and go to the hill near the Noumenon, overlooking the harbor. They take a seat and cuddle in together.

“Thank you Thaliak, for keeping Alinea safe. Thank you Nymeia, for keeping Aurora alive.” Annabeth then turns to look at the stars. Alira follows her gaze skyward noting the constellations that she can now find on her best friend. “Thank you Hades and Hyth for giving Alinea the chance to come back. Thank you all for staying around for us and for giving us the opportunity to continue on as we have.” Alira now has tears running down her face after listening to the words Annabeth has said. “Please,” Alira begs the stars, “Please let Aurora come back to us hale and whole.” They both see that the stars seem to twinkle more earnestly, before a shooting star crosses their view. “They’ll be okay. I know they will.” “They better be. They’re the only ones who’ll bother to res me when I do something stupid.” Annabeth laughs. “We better go back. Someone will be missing us.” Alira sighs and starts to get up, when they hear Gaius say, “You know, a lot of people say fresh air is good for healing. One must be warm and not get a chill however.” They turn and see that Gaius and Sid have brought warm bedding and hot soup to drink. They spend the night tracing the stars and praying for their friends, before falling asleep. 

[break-the-chains]

Writing prompt: Lust

6/21/15

My name is John, and I am a humble man. I define myself by what I have rather than what I don't. I have love, stability, and an appreciation of society. I have gentle parents, a consistent job, and good health. I want for nothing.

I have challenges just like everyone else, but they don't redirect me far from my path. I am able to maintain myself and my relations to others. I am not violent, nor am I a victim. I need this to be known. 

I am not broken.

6/26/15

I know that society is a result of the hard work & effort (whether willful or not) of the ones that came before. Because I know this, I choose to respect this gift. I bear the byproducts of this cohesion. 

One byproduct includes tolerating those who do not respect that peace. Phil, my coworker, is one of those people. 

He seems insistent on spouting out his disdain for those that hold up the structure of governance. He believes that greed is the driving factor of their decisions. He has no idea how ignorant he sounds. 

Does he not know of disease? Does he not know of flash floods? Does he not know of moral depravity? He has no idea of the dangers he is protected from by the very people he looks down on. 

I tolerate this man because it is my part to play. 

6/30/15

It took 30 miles and a gift of liquor to do what must be done. Nobody saw my license plate. Yet another hollow victory.

7/1/15

The home owner's association I moderate saw me come home last night. Dorothy is trusting. I'm not worried about Samuel, either. I know what goes on in his gardening shed. Veronica will be the one to cause problems, if any of them are feeling more superior than they deserve.

I have not found anything on her. I have time. 

7/2/15

Today, I saw a glimmer of what I have been waiting for. Ever since this started, I have been unsatisfied with my clients. Their responses have ranged from immature to licentious. They must have been raised in broken homes. It disgusts me. 

But today brought me hope. She is new. It seems like this is her first source of employment. She has that element of which I cannot describe, but I know is exactly what I need. Her parents are studious, if a bit distant. She has no siblings. She seems to stay indoors. She is, for all intents and purposes, a model young woman. In another lifetime, she would be a good future wife.

Of course, I am not looking for a wife. That is the one pillar of society I have failed. I accept that failure and I atone for it every time I go for a trip. God knows my intentions. I will surely receive divine punishment before I am allowed to rest in peace, but God also knows how devoted I am to his image. 

7/4/15

My job is integral to the order of our neighborhood. I do not always enjoy the day-to-day tasks that it brings, but I am immeasurably grateful for the opportunities it gives me. 

I discovered that Veronica divorced multiple men. She had two sons out of wedlock, and they don't seem to be in contact with her. She lives off of alimony, and that's why she can spend so much time sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. I am not surprised. She is a foul woman. No self-respecting man would keep her in his house.

I'm not sure yet how I will use this, but it's a great start. God smiled upon me today.

7/6/15

I am trying to be patient, but it's beginning to strain me.

I want to give the Lord what he wants. What I want. Unfortunately, a bottle of spirits won't get me through this one. I must be fastidious. 

She continues to be a soft-spoken and well-behaved young lady. She is admittedly quite beautiful, although I know better than to be swayed by appearances. She is quick to notice details. Polite. Afraid of confrontation, as she should be. Frankly, she is the sum of all the parts, inside & out, that I look for in a point of interest. She pains me.

I asked her for help deciding between two pain relievers today. She handled the request well for a woman. When I stepped on her heel, she apologized profusely. That's exactly what I was hoping for. It took an unusual level of self-control to smile & walk away. 

She brings me the most tempting source of anguish I have ever experienced. Oh, to be young and faceless. The burdens of leadership are a terrible weight to bear. I do this for God, and for my community. My service is immovable, no matter the cost.

8/7/15

I visited the store again today. She was not on shift. I have been too careless. I should know these things. 

Meanwhile, Samuel is indulging in his sickening delights in the comfort of his own backyard. He doesn't even seem to care that I can hear his absurd lecherous cries. I have seen his packing slips full of useless leathers and items I'd rather not mention. I hate him, but I appreciate that he knows not to challenge me. He is a useful sinner.

9/30/15 

I have spent the last week planning out my course of action. She has a night shift tomorrow. Veronica will be home, but Samuel has agreed, with persuasion, to lead her to the troublesome family at the end of the street. She'll be too busy to notice my absence.

Her parents will be at the play showing on Main St. In fact, most people I'm concerned about will be there, including my coworkers. 

When I arrive, I will wait until she restocks the drinks. I'll disconnect the power to the camera's computer. They have a rudimentary system that saves the data to the computer first, then uploads it to the cloud. No original file, no cloud.

I will go to the hair product section (furthest from the entrance), ask for her advice, and the rest is God's will. She rest her gaze on my glory, and she will submit. She will be the vessel of my legacy. 

I have my exit strategy, but I don't need to dwell on it. I cannot calm down from this miracle that is about to unfold. Lord have mercy on my soul. 

7/15/15

It is time. I am at a disadvantage, for I cannot contain my lust. I must bring a suitcase for this to work. It would be too suspicious for me to change my wardrobe now.

Samuel is taking his time, that stupid bastard. I hear him hollering next door. He should be out by now. It is already 8:05 pm.

7/16/15

One would say that I have made a horrible mistake. If God were to permit me to repeat last night, I would have done it anyways. 

I understand that my foresight was not as keen as I expected. Perhaps I was blinded. I regret nothing. Let me tell you of my ultimate victory.

Although Samuel was late, he performed as I instructed. Her parents left on time. Her store was as empty as I had planned out. She took longer to leave the front register than I thought, but I still managed to disconnect the security module. She didn't notice, either. 

When I stood in front of the shampoo and called her over, she seemed nervous. I will not lie, this excited me. As she walked over, I unzipped my fly. I still had the suitcase in front of me, but I kept growing as she walked to me. She smelled enticing.

Her soft voice and tentative glances fueled my mission. I let her know how beautiful she is. I told her the truth: that she will make an excellent mother. Her growing distress was everything  I hoped for. I set the suitcase down. My groin was proud of its desire. This was my moment to serve God's ultimate wish.

It took her exactly thirty-five seconds to see my lurid outline. She quickly averted her eyes and turned to silently walk away. I reach out for her arm and hold her in place. She didn't look at me. I move to fit my chest to her shoulders, her buttocks to my hips. I brought her close to me, and her sweet warm skin made me fully primed. 

This sweet and sinful female form struggled so hopelessly. My desire fueled my motions to restrain her. I had to bring her to the floor, not my favorite outcome, but it was worth it to see her so defenseless. She was amazingly quiet throughout the entire night. 

What a man and a woman do to create new life must be revered and held close. For that reason, I will not go into more detail about our actions last night. I will only say that the passion was real. The gift of procreation is one that I will never forget. There is a part of me that feels sorry for her. She did not choose to be a woman. It is God's will that she will be my carriage for new life. Nevertheless, she was a wonderful host. 

As all mortal good must come to an end, once my loins had nothing left to give, I had to depart. I came home to exactly what I expected, a commotion down the street that had nothing to do with me, parents still out on the town. No alerts from the office. Last night was a good night. The best night of my life, even. 

This will be my last entry. Because of my position, I have special privileges to let this journal die in the dark. However, this morning I received the news that my act has not gone unnoticed. Dorothy saw the girl sobbing in the aftermath. There is a substantial chance that any potential charges will be dropped, but my life will not be the same once the news spreads across town.

I have served my purpose to God. The final task he requires of me is complete. I have literally nothing left to live for in this world, so I will either travel for the rest of my days, or I may end it all in a justified act of defense from an escalated conflict. We shall see how it plays out. God loves me. I am at peace. 

[lostglassguitars]

HI TUMBLR FOLLOWERS AND MUTUALS!!!

(tw for surgery and some anxiety worries like vomiting)

In around 9-10 hours, I will be having surgery to get my wisdom teeth removed. YAY! Also not yay. Uh I have never had any kind of surgery before, and I am very incredibly worried about it. I do not want to throw up or faint. I am also afraid about pain. But mostly throwing/fainting up to be completely honest. I can handle crying and embarrassment, and there are pain meds and numbing for the pain, but I am just incredibly worried about throwing up. SO I hope that won’t happen. (I’m also afraid of needles which. Isn’t great. My mom n I talked about some anxiety strategies though so yay)

Small anxiety ramble aside, I will be out of it for a lil bit. If anything in the next 24 hours is unintelligible or weird, I’m just frankly not in my right mind at the moment so don’t worry :)

I’ll try to update y’all whenever I feel decent enough which will preferably be at an earlier time tomorrow and not like. Two days later.

ANYWAYS! I love y’all :) wish me luck and I’ll see you guys soon!! <3

[tetsupeach]

All Must Descend

prince bakugou x f!reader

summary - you pass an eventful night in the dungeon as bakugou reckons with what your appearance means for stability at court. sir kirishima shows his hand.

cws - game of thrones au, same tone as the show. murder, violence, political intrigue, smut, magic, old gods, new gods, choking, true love, lore, allusions to torture, prophecy, reader has brown eyes. dom!bakugou. sub!reader.

chapter 1 | chapter 2 - updates on fridays

please have an age in your bio and be 18+ before interacting with this fic. reblogs/comments appreciated, and encouraged.

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Prince Bakugou kicks the dusty path in the garden, frowning so hard that deep caverns are forged in his brow, when Kirishima finds him.

“That bad?” He asks quietly.

“I don’t even recognize her.” Bakugou says in a low growl. “She says it won’t rain until we have the churches blessing, and we can’t get gods grace without Amathar’s heir, without her true power my power is fuckin’ useless apparently.” Kirishima nods. “She just repeats it over and over again, Gods Grace,” he mutters, “It’s every fuckin’ word out of her mouth. Maybe my whole family’s crazy, maybe the stories are true, that every leader who sits on the throne of Yuuei is destined for goddamn madness.”

He kicks the gravel path again, the dust gathering at the bottom of his more court appropriate clothing, simple for a prince, but still obviously made of the finest materials, a pair of dark brown trousers, a loose white shirt and leather boots. There's a ceremonial jeweled sword at his hip that he doesn’t take his hand off of while he paces.

“You aren’t.” Kirishima says fiercely. “I’d stake my life on it. And your power is more than enough, you’re unmatched on the battlefield, even when you’re not wielding holy fire.” Bakugou shrugs off the praise, not meeting his friend’s eyes.

“What does it say that I don’t want to walk around my own fuckin’ castle without bein’ armed,” he looks up at the sky, dappled with diamond twinkling stars. Kirishima sighs.

“Court’s dangerous, right now, but not for you, Bakugou-”

“I’m not worried about me,” he says, pain creeping into his voice like ivy up a wall, “I’m worried about you, about the people I love, and the people,” he gestures to the city, “The people out there. They’re starvin’ and the only thing I can get the Queen to say about it is that when we find Amathar’s bastard things will get better.” Bakugou spits on the ground. “And now I gotta face that girl, from today. My men killed her family. What the fuck am I supposed to say to her about that?”

“All you can do is tell the truth.” Kirishima reaches out and touches his friend's upper arm. “All you can do is tell her you’re sorry, which you are, and that you’ll do what you can for her.”

“How is she?” Bakugou asks and Kirishima thinks again of the sound of your aching dry sobs, bouncing off the walls of the dungeon.

“Afraid.” Kirishima says quietly. “She’s terrified.”

“My mother wants to meet her.” Bakugou says very quietly. “I convinced her to wait until we’d conducted the ritual to see if she’s a descendent of Nahelenia.”

“I talked to her,” Kirishima says, “I don’t think she’s a spy, or anything at all even. She was probably just lashing out at us because she’s afraid.” Bakugou nods, a hand coming to rest over his heart.

“I can still feel the way she was holdin’ onto me as we rode into the city. I can’t,” He presses his lips together, “I can’t, I don’t know what to say to her. Of course she fuckin’ hates me, but I, I feel like I owe it to her to make sure she lives through this.” He looks out across the moonlight garden, white flowers practically growing in the blue light.

“Well, you do.” Kirishima shrugs. “She’s just not making it easy. I’ll take her down to see what might await her, if she doesn’t behave, and that’ll help. But you could always try being,” Kirishima searches for the right words. “Being kind, to her.” Bakugou groans.

“I can’t accommodate her mouth,” He shakes his head, “Or it’ll get her killed. I gotta break her for her own safety.”

“Well and,” Kirishima grins, “As far as problems go, at least she’s one with a pretty face huh?”

“Don’t wanna hear shit about it,” Bakugou starts and Kirishima flashes his palms.

“I’m just saying, maybe once she understands her place here, she’ll be able to show you a little gratitude-” Bakugou swats at his friend. “Bakugou, forgive me, but I’ve never seen a woman ride on your horse.”

“I’m not talkin’ about her.” Bakugou snaps. “I didn’t want her holdin’ your sorry ass at knifepoint again, speakin’ of, if you think we’re not gonna talk about how some peasant girl got the drop on you you’re out of your goddamn mind.” Kirishima blushes.

“I,” he thinks about it, “No there’s not way around it I uh, I underestimated them. None of the women have ever resisted us before. I wonder where she learned to fight.” He pauses, surveying the gardens, attempting to change the subject. “It’s so green here in the palace , it’s easy to forget the troubles of the outside.” Bakugou nods, then an a cloud crosses his face.

“None of the guards touched her?” He asks, and Kirishima nods, teasing smile back on his face.

“She’s not a virgin though, said she’s a widow. Not that you’ve ever shown a preference for virgins, as long as a woman is well behaved.” Bakugou spins on his heels, eyes ablaze with anger and Kirishima flashes his palms, “My king.”

“Yeah that’s right,” The prince snaps, “Remember your goddamn place just in the nick of time.” Kirishima giggles. “S’not funny, you tease me about that shit in front of Queen Mitsuki and she’ll order me to behead you right there.” Kirishima shakes his head, shivering.

“I never speak in front of the Queen.”

“Probably a good move these days.” He stretches a little. “Prophecy said no children, didn’t mention virgin. But uh, I think-”

“Prince Bakugou,” a cool voice breathes, cutting through the silence, Kirishima jumps but Bakugou contains his surprise at being snuck up upon.

“Primogen Tobita.” Bakugou says gruffly, and the older man bows to the Prince and nods to his knight. “Not very priestly of you to be eavesdroppin’.” Kirishima keeps his face neutral, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, but the tall, grey haired man just laughs warmly.

“I’m far too old to be overhearing conversation that isn’t happening right in front of my eyes.” He’s a tall man, though both Bakugou and Kirishima have a few inches on him. His long grey hair is parted down the middle, and despite his claims of age his eyes sparkle with the youth and mischief of a young man. “Though I did hear you had quite an adventure today.” He presses. “I’d love to meet the young woman you liked so much she earned a spot on your saddle.”

“She was trouble.” Bakugou growls. “I needed to keep an eye on her.”

“Well either way, you caught me on my way to the dungeon to pay her a visit.” Bakugou and Kirishima exchange a glance.

“I’ll accompany you.” Kirishima offers. “Someone of your age shouldn’t be wandering the maze of the dungeons, you’ll need an escort.”

“Certainly you’re not worried,” he touches his chest, “About the intentions of a man of the church, who the gods have chosen, are you?”

“I can assure you his only concern was for your safety.” Bakugou says, practically spitting the words. “How fares my mother, Primogen?” The primogen sighs theatrically.

“Overtaken by visions and headaches. Hopefully we’ll find Amathar’s heir soon.” He clasps his hand together. “Perhaps it will be the girl you found today. Excuse me.” He pushes past the group and Bakugou sighs deeply, gesturing to the redhead.

“Follow him.” Kirishima nods, and slips into the darkness. Bakugou re enters the castle, servants scurrying out of his way, determined to see his mother in private. The throne room is filled with the usual lords and ladies, post dinner they’re dancing and drinking to tinkling music, warbling out from a drunken flute player. His mother is in the thick of them, long blond hair braided down her back, cup of wine in her right hand, eyes glassy and far off as she sits on her throne, ignoring the nobles speaking to her. She waves them away at the sight of her son.

“Katuski,” she breathes, reaching for him, “I’ve had the most horrible dream,” he nods, allowing her to hold him close as she stands, leaning heavily against his solid form, “About snakes,” she whispers, “First the wells will dry and then there will be snakes, if we cannot bring peace between our nations. We must find Amathars daughter, please, Katsuki, promise me you won’t stop looking.” He glances around, there are several fountains spitting clear cool water in just the throne room alone, but he couldn’t help but remember how dusty and dry the city had been while riding through it earlier. He nods.

“Of course.”

“And the girl, the girl from today?” She asks, “When can she be tested?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Bakugou replies. “She’s in the dungeon for tonight.” His mother shudders, taking another sip of wine. “I could get you some water?’ He offers gruffly, but she shakes her head, sitting back on the throne, nearly falling asleep immediately.

“I want to meet her.” She says absentmindedly. Bakugou nods again.

“Tomorrow.” He turns abruptly and leaves, not wanting to witness his mother passing out, drunk on her throne.

The moon is high in the night sky when the Primogen makes his way down the steps to the dungeon, moving deep within stone hallways. You’re finally completely dry and asleep against the wall, breathing softly, when the clang of your cell door opening wakes you.

“Hello, there.” Primogen Tobita greets you, and you cower, remembering the Knight’s warnings. He’s tall, about the same height as the prince, with grey hair slicked back from his face, and cool dark eyes. His facial hair is neat, trimmed into a tiny little moustache and just a bit of beard at the end of his chin. His robes are dark and billowing, completely obscuring his silhouette. “No need to be afraid.” He says smoothly. “My name is Primogen Tobita, heretic.” You avert your eyes instinctively. “I understand that you may not want to be disrespectful,” he says, “But I would prefer you look at me.” You lift your head to him, and his breath catches in his throat, your dark eyes clearly visible in the torchlight. “That,” he mutters, to himself, “Is concerning.”

“Sir?” You say quietly, picking the honorific you think is least likely to get you in trouble. You scoot away from him, pressing your back against the stone wall.

“Do you have a name?” You nod. “You have my permission to speak.” He says and you shrug.

“I do have a name.” You answer instinctively and he reaches down and slaps you hard across the face, his rings scratching your skin as stars bloom behind your eyes.

“Try again.” he says, still completely composed.

“F/n.” You choke out, now completely crumpled in the corner. “Please I-” You stop yourself, noticing how he wipes his hand after touching you, your blood on his white handkerchief.

“A follower of the sea goddess.” He mutters. “I should have known, they don’t train their women properly.”

“Do not touch her again.” A voice from behind him makes you both jump, as Kirishima strides into the cell. “You could have just struck royalty, Primogen.” He kneels next to you with a clean rag, dabbing at the blood on your cheek with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in your chest.

“I’m simply wondering what kind of witchcraft she used to bewitch the prince!” Primogen Tobita stutters, his pert nose crinkling. “I’ve never seen Prince Bakugou so, distracted, in court today when I suggested she be put to death for threatening your life he was,” he pauses, dramatically resting a hand over his heart, “Beside himself. He’s clearly besotted.”

“Prince Bakugou was troubled by the violence our soldiers demonstrated against the townspeople of her small village.” Kirishima says, an edge to his voice, “He knows this kingdom owes her a debt.” There’s a brief pause as he stands facing the Primogen.

You’re struck again by how large he is, the wide span of his shoulders might at a different angle completely obscure Primogen Tobita from your view.

“Thing is, Sir Shinsou spoke with some of the soldiers, who have been regularly attending the masses you lead for the common people.” He takes a step forward, but Primogen Tobita doesn’t step back, “And they told him that you’ve been encouraging soldiers to grant heretics salvation,” he says, his voice now low and threatening, “At the end of their swords.” Primogen Tobita doesn’t miss a beat.

“Clearly, it was a metaphor.” He says, crossing his arms, “For rebirth in death, in the light of the gods.”

“Clearly,” Kirishima takes another step towards him, and this time the older man has the grace to scoot backwards an inch across the stone floor, “That metaphor cost many lives. I trust you will correct this this weekend at service.” The Primogen swallows. “Or,” Kirishima’s fist closes around the hilt of his sword. “I will correct it, for you.”

“Are you threatening me, Sir Kirishima Eijirou?” Primogen Tobita gathers his robes, performatively scandalized, but the knight just chuckles, a slow grin spreading across his handsome face.

“I am, Primogen. I thought you were educated enough to understand that without explanation.” There’s an awkward pause.

“You forget yourself, Sir Kirishima.” Tobita leans forward. “Aeds good favor, once lost, is difficult to regain.”

“I think me and my sword will do just fine.” At that the Primogen sweeps off in a huff and as soon as his back is turned Kirishima looks back at you.

“Was that smart?” You whisper. “Threatening him?”

“It would take a hundred men to take me alive, and more to kill me.” Kirishima says grimly, inspecting you. “I was gonna do this tomorrow, but I need you to understand what can happen to you if you mouth off to men like him.” You swallow, mouth pressing into a tight line.

“I’m not afraid of death.” You whisper, and he frees one of your wrists, handing you his skein of water. You drink quickly, and he helps you to your feet.

“There are things,” he says, leading you out of the cell, “Worse than death.” He offers you his arm, and you take it, your feet bare on the cool stone. He leads you deeper in the dungeon. “I’m not asking for your cooperation anymore.” He says, as you turn a corner, a note of desperation in his voice. “I’m demanding it.” He pushes open a heavy door before you can respond, and the smell of blood and smoke fills your nose. It’s a torture chamber, odd twisting metal, heavy leather whips, a wheel with leather straps on it, turning slowly over a fire. It’s unoccupied. He lets you step forward, your eyes like saucers as you inspect the space, running your hands over the metal spikes that come away with flakes of red dried blood. “I wouldn’t touch anything.” You nod, withdrawing your hands back into your body, genuine fear returning to you.

“You want to help me?” You ask, your voice soft.

“I’m in your debt.” He says simply, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “No harm should have come to your family.” You swallow nervously.

“I would like to, avoid this.” You step back towards him. “I’ll work on um, my demeanor, I can cooperate, if it keeps me from this room.” He notices your hands trembling, and it tugs at him.

“My lady,” he says, reaching for you, pulling you into his chest and rubbing comforting circles in your back, feeling you tremble. “We will protect you, alright if you just-”

“You shouldn’t be alone with her like this.” The purple haired knight from earlier steps into the room from a side door, sending your heart into a sprint.

“I’m not-” Kirishima sputters, “Shinsou you know I wouldn’t-” He grins, waving away the protests.

“You’re trouble.” Shinsou says, inspecting you with a clinical air. His eyes match his hair, and they flick from your waist to your chest, and then back to Kirishima, without stopping at your face. “You didn’t put her with the others, did you?”

“She didn’t have a group so I locked her up alone in the overnight cell.” Kirishima says defensively. “Bakugou likes her, he wouldn’t want her to-”

“So bring her to his bed,” Shinsou interrupts him. “Or follow orders. You’re too soft on them.” You open your mouth, remember the room you're standing in, and close it. Shinsou breaks into a wide smile, “Oooh did he scare you into submission?” You don’t respond, skin prickling with goosebumps in the cool of the dungeon. “Poor little mouse,” he growls, “First time in a trap?”

“Don’t play with her.” Kirishima pushes himself in front of you, he’s got a few inches on Shinsou, and he squares his shoulders, “She’s not either of ours.”

‘That’s right.” Shinsou counters. “So I’m going to take her up to where the other women were held, rather than the comfortable overnight cell.” He rolls his neck. “Get out of my way.” Kirishima flashes his palms and steps aside, letting Shinsou take you roughly by your upper arm, leading you out of the torture chamber, back the way you came. You try biting them back but you can’t stop the words that flow from your lips,

“If that wasn’t supposed to be where I was being held, then how did that priest find me?” Both men freeze, and turn to you.

“A guard showed him where you were, right?” Kirishima says, “I had to keep my distance, so I didn’t see but,”

“No.” You confirm. “He came alone.” Shinsou laughs darkly.

“Trouble.” He half whispers, half sings. “Shall we check on her cell?” Kirishima nods, and the two men draw their swords. They walk in a defensive formation, Shinsou’s eyes narrowed, Kirishima’s jaw set. He rounds the corner before your cell and you hear the clang of metal against metal. Kirishima’s sword collides with another man’s blade, leaping behind Shinsou, hiding your face in his back. Kirishima quickly disarms the assailant, who is dressed fully in black.

“What is the meaning of this?” Primogen Tobita strolls out of your cell, “Unhand that man, the gods have chosen him for a purpose!’”

“What might that be, Primogen?” Shinsou asks casually, leaning against the stone.

“I had a dream,” he says, gesturing with his jewel encrusted hand, “Nahelenia herself came to me, and said I must speak with that woman,” he points at you, “Alone, that she had a secret to tell.”

“So you sent someone with,” Shinsou glances down at the man on the ground, clutching a dark blade, “A poisoned dagger, to speak with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The Primogen huffs. “And I’ll speak with the maiden now.” He holds out a hand, but you don’t take it. “Are you going to defy an order of the church?” He purrs, and you look up at Kirishima, asking for help, but it’s Shinsou that comes to your rescue.

“Actually, we’re here to take her to the castle. Royal Order.” His voice is a low gravel. “You may speak with her tomorrow, after the ritual.” The Primogen scowls.

“If Prince Bakugou requires company, there are a number of courtesans-”

“Actually,” Shinsou cuts him off. “It’s the Queen who asked to speak with her.” If the Primogen is surprised, he doesn’t show it, simply bowing deeply. “And if you’re lucky, I won’t tell her what you said about her son, and,” his lips curl into a sneer, “Courtesans.” He turns to you, offering you his arm. You take it, avoiding eye contact with the Primogen and his man. When you get out of the dungeon, into the night, Kirishima lets out a long breath.

“Fuck,” he says, “Holy fucking shit.”

“You're welcome.” Shinsou sheaths his sword, shaking his head at the other Knight. “One of these days you’re going to have to learn how to play politics.” He says to the redhead who looks sheepish, leading you up the stairs out of the dungeon. Shinsou walks behind you, one hand tightly enclosed around your upper arm.

“I just,” Kirishima sighs, “I get nervous, about church stuff.”

“Was that man going to kill me?” you cut in, eyes wide, and the two knights look at you.

“Almost certainly.” Shinsou says, as if it was stupid that you asked. You nod slowly, and Kirishima opens the door, letting you out into the garden. It’s so early in the morning that the sky is lightening in the east.

“Do we need to take her to the Queen?” Kirishima asks, and Shinsou snorts.

“Queen’s passed out drunk. Just get her ready for the ritual.” He stretches a little. “If the church is worried, maybe she’s the one?” Kirishima nods, looking you over again. “You sure you know who your father is?” You consider, teeth closing on your lower lip.

“Fairly sure, Sir.”

“Sir,” Shinsou cackles, repeating you. “Credit where credit is due, Kirishima, seems like you did a good job scaring the girl. Kirishima rolls his eyes.

“Give her here,” He says, and Shinsou releases you, letting you walk, bare feet in the dirt, over to Kirishima. “We’re headed there.” He points to a tower, “It’s important that you don’t speak to anyone who doesn’t speak to you, alright?” You nod emphatically, and Shinsou scrutinizes you.

“She’s gonna get herself executed in less than a week.” He turns his back on the two of you, “Try not to go down with her.” You swallow a bitter taste, your stomach growling, and let Kirishima lead you through another big pair of double doors, through what must be servants' quarters, people are just starting to wake up. He takes you up a back staircase, it’s narrow and rickety, you nearly trip over the hem of your dress a few times, but he just catches you, large hands closing around your waist and lifting your body into an upright position. You’re tired, your head is buzzing, your stomach aching but you can only assume the lack of food has been intentional. He pushes through a door, and there are squeals.

“Kirishima!” A woman with long dark hair, dressed head to toe in white, “Out, out out,”

“I’ve got the next girl, though!” He protests, “And this isn’t your room, it’s just the tower's antechamber.” You step out from behind him and find yourself engulfed in a warm hug. The woman smells like cedar and patchouli. She takes you by the shoulders, ignoring him.

“I heard you had to bathe in the knights quarters,” She shudders, “How positively dreadful.” Kirishima rolls his eyes.

“It was fine. But ah, if you could be nice to her, that would be excellent.” He says, “I’m afraid she’s only seen the worst of Yuuei so far.” The woman nods, still inspecting you.

“So, girl, singular?” She raises her eyebrows. Kirishima presses his lips together, considering.

“Yeah, you know what Momo,” His fist closes around your upper arm hard enough to bruise. “Can you do what you’re gonna do with her bound?” Momo frowns, blinking a few times. Clearly she woke up only a few minutes ago, there’s still the glassy look of dreaming in her dark eyes. You look around, taking in your surroundings while she considers. The room in the tower is light and airy, large windows allow for the shards of sunlight to paint the oak wood floors with warm golden patterns of sunrise. It seems a uniquely feminine space.

"I don't know," Momo looks troubled, "Is she dangerous?"

“I’ll be good,” you interrupt, looking up at him, “Sir.” Kirishima still looks troubled.

“They’re priestesses of Aed,” he explains, turning to you, “They’re not warriors.” He rubs his chin. “You’ll behave?” You nod emphatically and Momo’s dark arching brows knit together.

“What did she do?” She asks, and a grin blooms across Kirishima’s face, he runs his fingers through his coarse red locks.

“Oh, held me at knifepoint, among other things.”

“That’s it!” You squeak, turning around to look at him, “That’s really the only thing I’ve-”

“She’s committed verbal treason and blasphemed about every five minutes, don’t listen to her.” Kirishima says, thinking, but to your surprise, Momo giggles.

“I can understand a little treason. Prince Bakugou is,” a little smile plays on her lips, “He takes some getting used to but he’s a good man.” Kirishima winces, and Momo watches the joy drop from your face as you give a little shake of her head.

“I won’t,” your teeth close on your lower lip. “I don't think-”

“There was an unfortunate incident yesterday.” Kirishima says quietly. “Some of his soldiers burned down her village. Her father is dead.” You bite back your immediate responses, an unfortunate incident, your father wasn’t dead, he was murdered. Murdered. Killed. Taken from you. Momo's shoot open, understanding immediately.

“You’re powerless here,” she says quietly, and the change in her tone takes you by surprise. She inspects you again, your unkempt appearence, the pain she can see deep in your eyes. “You and I have that in common. You’re a smart woman.” You realize it’s one of the first times you haven’t been called a girl, despite being well past your twentieth winter. “I can’t do anything for you. You won’t be able to escape the castle by hurting me, or any of the other priestesses. You know this.” You nod. “No need to bind her.” Momo says smoothly. “Now get out. Men aren’t allowed in our tower, not that the Kingsguard doesn't flaunt our rules at every opportunity.”

Kirishima ducks back through the door way apologetically, waviing a farewell and Momo sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You’re powerless?” You ask, interrupting her annoyance with the Knight. She nods.

“Priestesses of Aed surrender their lives to the god of flame.” She says. “I’ve given up my entire future to be here, to serve him and the old magic of Yuuei.” You swallow. “It means I’ll never have to marry, I can refuse summons to court, I can travel, it comes with a measure of freedom. But no power, politically speaking.” You nod and she leads you further into the tower, into a room lined with fragrant cedar. There’s a tub, she turns a spigot and it starts to fill with water. “I’ll give you some oils and whatnot, you can take a bath in there,” she gestures over her shoulder, “And I’ll give you a ceremonial dress.”

“One powerless person to another, then,” you ask. “What happens after the ceremony, if I’m not royalty?” Momo looks pained.

“Right now the women are being held in the tower after we determine that they aren’t King Amathar’s daughter. I understand you spent the night in our overnight cell, it’s not um,” she opens a door, “The tower is a touch less comfortable. But not so bad!” You nod and she opens a cabinet, handing you a glass bottle. You unscrew the lid, it smells of freesia and lavender. “Clean yourself to the best of your ability and then some of the priestesses of Aed will be by to style your hair. She leaves then, closing the door behind her, you hear it lock.

You wiggle out of the dress Kirishima gave you and step into the warm water, luxuriating in it. The bath is soft and pleasant, and lying in the warm water is the most comfortable you’ve been in days. You clean yourself until the water gets tepid. Then you cover your body with your hands and knock of the door.

The rest of the preistesses, Jirou and Mina, wrap a clean linen dress around your body and work a comb through your tangled hair, styling it and braiding flowers that you recognize from the garden on the grounds into the braids. The flowers themselves smell soapy and clean and between that and the bath you imagine you must be thoroughly perfumed. The preistesses speak around you for the most part, talking about court gossip, about a few vassals who were late on their taxes, a few wives cheating on their husbands, a few mistresses, what the newest clothing trends were.

“What about you,” Mina asks cheerfully, and it takes you a second to realize that she’s speaking to you. “Did you have a sweetheart, or lover, in your village?” You clear your throat.

“I’m a widow.” You say quietly, and her kind dark eyes fill with concern. “It’s ah, it’s alright.” You say quickly. “I didn’t love him. But, I,” you sigh, “I’ve never been in love, I suppose.”

“Why did you marry him, then?” Mina chirps, and Jirou looks at her reproachfully. “What, arranged marriages aren’t common among peasants, no offense.” You swallow, flashing back to your wedding, the white dress in the drafty chapel, to the smell of ale on your husbands breath.

“It was an uncommon situation. But yes, it was pre arranged.”

“Maybe you’ll come out of this ritual engaged to Prince Bakugou!” Mina says, with a little laugh. You shudder and there’s an awkward silence. “That’s not so bad,” Mina protests and Jirou speaks for the first time.

“She’s going to end up in the tower, Mina, so if you could not-”

“What’s so bad, about the tower?” You ask, more sharply than you mean to.

“It’s just crowded.” Jirou says quickly. “We’re not supposed to talk about it. And,” She looks at Mina, “We’re not supposed to talk to the women at all.” Mina sighs.

“I’m bored, though, this is boring.”

“Can I ask,” you try to capitalize on this silence, “Can I ask how women become preistesses in Yuuei?”

“Women in Yuuei can’t refuse an engagement.” Jirou explains. “But we can choose the church over marriage.” She adjusts a flower in your hair. “It wouldn’t be an option for you, regardless of the outcome of the ritual, because you arent a citizen.” You nod, and

Jirou helps you into a deep red dress, that dips between your breasts. When you see yourself, in the ceremonial gown, in a crown of red roses and white gardenias, in front of the first mirror you’ve ever seen, you hardly recognize yourself. You bare only a passing resemblance to the girl whos face looked back at you from her pail of well water just a scant few days ago. There’s a soft knock at the doors.

“Oi.” They hear, and scramble get up, “Lemme talk to her.”

“Prince Bakugou,” Momo cries loudly, striding in from another room at the sound of the Prince’s irate voice, “Men aren’t supposed-”

“Really?” He cuts her off, raising his voice. “When my mother dies, I’ll be king. You don’t say no to me.” She blanches, and unlocks the door. He pushes it open and then does a double take. There’s something about the life of the flowers in your hair that matches the expression on your face, his heart beats in a strange new rhythm. “Get out.” He says and the women scatter, darting deeper into the set of rooms. “Kirishima told me an attempt was made on your life.” You shrug.

“Yes, sir.” It’s a pity he’s an oaf, you decide, because Prince Bakugou Katsuki is decidedly handsome, cutting a sharp silhouette, an elegant profile. A pity, that he was cruel, a pity, then, that he was stupid. You eye the sword at his hip, wishing you could drive it into his ribs. “I came to see,” he looks frustrated, dressed in simple clean clothes, hair parted to one side. “I came to make sure you were alright.”

“You feel badly for me.” You move towards him, slowly, trying not to ruin the complex hairstyle and perfectly laid gown. The prince rubs his eyes, the sun is directly behind you in the window, it hurts to look at you too long.

“I feel responsible for you.” He says, shading his red brown eyes with his hand, blinking the the brilliance of the sun. You sigh deeply.

“You know, in the books, Princes have honor.” Your mouth sets in a hard line. “They’re chivalrous, they care for their people.” He looks away. “What are you doing, for the people of your country, out there?” He shrugs, brows knitting together.

“I’m doing what I can. The fuck is it to you?” Annoyance colors his response. You shrug.

“I’d like to know what kind of man I’m at the mercy of,” you say softly. He reaches for you and you instinctively flinch just before his hand brushes your jaw. He traces the outline of a bruise from where you’d been shoved onto the ground the day before.

“I'm not the kind of man who hits a woman unless he's really gotta. I don't do that shit cause I'm angry, or for fun. Don't flinch away from me, and I won't give you a reason to be afraid of me.” He orders and you do your best, trembling under his touch, remembering that his men had said he was descended from a god. “Kiri really scared the shit outta ya, huh?” He rumbles and you turn your head to meet his gaze, realizing how close his face is to yours. He takes the end of your chin, tipping your face up towards his.

“What’s going to happen to me?” You whisper.

“I can’t tell you anything about today.” He holds your gaze.

"What about after?" You breathe, and in the golden light of the early morning you are so breathtakingly beautiful that all words fly from his mind, he opens his mouth to respond and no words come out.

“Excuse me,” It’s Momo, peeking her head back in, saving him. “You have to take her down in a few minutes, and so help me Aed, Prince Bakugou if you’ve undone our careful work-”

“Calm down,” The prince rolls his eyes. “She’s fine”

“I’m, um, I'm sorry,” you chirp, and both of them look at you, “Wait I’m, I apologize, what do I call you? Not sir?” He smirks.

“Your highness, your grace, your majesty,” he shrugs, “Pick. My full title’s pretty long, you’ll hear it when we get down there.” You take his hand and he impulsively pulls you into his body. Standing like that, pressed up against him, it’s a reminder of how physically intimidating he is. You can feel the muscles on his chest through his shirt, and you get the sense that once he’s wrapped a thick, tanned arm around your waist that you wouldn’t possess the strength to free yourself. He crushes a few of the flowers in your hair with his rough movements and Momo scowls.

“Enough manhandling her.” Momo says, shooing him away.

“No,” He turns to Momo angrily, “I'll do what I want with her, she belongs to me-”

“I belong to you?” You retort instinctually, “You think you’re entitled to my body, because your men murdered my family-” You stop yourself, realizing that everyone is staring at you, that Momo looks terrified, that Bakugou looks aghast. “Y-your grace.” You finish, looking down at your hands as he releases you.

“I told you,” and the pain cuts through his bravado, tipping the tone of his pitch higher, “I feel fuckin' awful,” he takes a shuddering breath clearly steadying himself. “It wasn’t on my orders, but it was on my watch so I, I'm sorry.” He mutters. “I won’t be able to make it up to you.” There’s a pause. “Momo stop shakin' like that, I’m not gonna cut ‘er fuckin’ head off in front of ya.” She lets out a long breath and he watches your bravery dissolve into fear.

“Sorry, I,” you bow your head. “I’m sorry, your grace, I just, it’s been difficult, and I'm sorry.” The tears that you’ve been fighting for days prick at your eyes and you wipe them away, “I’m sorry,” you say again. “I'm just alone now, and I'm afraid.” You lift your eyes to him, the last word comes out like more of a whispered plea than an apology. “You can, you can have whatever you want, obviously,” you babble, “You’re royalty, you can take-” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, scowling and speaking sharply, in a timbre you recognize as a direct order.

“You gotta keep your mouth shut or it’ll get you killed. I'm bein' patient because I owe ya one. But anyone else at this castle woulda seen you whipped for talkin' to them like that, and bein' common.” You bow your head and he softens. “We’ll head down if uh,” Momo hands you a handkerchief and you dab at your eyes.

“Thanks.” He offers you his hand for a second time and you take it. This time he gives you your space, letting the gown drag behind you as you both walk down the stairs from the priestesses tower into the main body of the castle. There’s a few minutes of silence.

“Why did you let me on your horse?” You ask, the curiosity burning away at you. He doesn't look at you. “You could have thrown me on the wagon with the things you,” you stop yourself from saying stole, “Acquired.” He lets out a heavy breath.

“I didn’t want any of the soldiers to touch you. I needed to make it clear that you were mine. Or they would have taken you when I wasn’t around.”

"Taken me?" You start, and that gets his attention, the honest surprise in your voice.

"You uh," He takes in your face, reading the genuine surprise. "You ever get out of that village before this?" You shake your head.

"Not often. But I, I'm always shocked by the cruelty humanity is capable of. No matter how many times the fates try and teach me, I never learn." He nods at this, understanding.

"Well, I had ta let 'em know you were mine."

“I’m yours?” You repeat, voice echoing down an empty hallway. The castle is nearly deserted but for a few servants. You can hear what sounds like a large gathering of people ahead of you. He shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I decided when you held a knife up to my best friend's throat.” He clears his throat. “So when the ritual today is over, you’ll be mine. The other women in the tower will stumble their way back to what’s left of their villages when we find the descendent of Amathar, which we will eventually or my mother will die and I can abandon this useless crusade. But s’not like you have a home to go back to.” He watches pain well in your eyes and kicks himself.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “It hurts, to think about, having nowhere,” the pitch of your voice rises, “Nowhere to go back to.” You stop walking, and lean against the stone wall, closing your eyes. It’s cool against your back.

“No I,” he searches for words, for a phrase, some kind of incantation meant to soothe, but he doesn’t have access to such things, it’s an unwieldy weapon he’s not trained in yet, heavy in clumsy hands. Instead he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead. One of his large hands rests on your waist, rubbing a comforting pattern. He can feel your pulse racing beneath your skin. “It won’t be too bad, bein’ here.” He says in his low rasp, and it might be his imagination but you seem to soften at his touch.

“What’s gonna happen when I go in there, your grace?” He starts to lead you down the hallway again and you follow. He looks away from you before speaking again. 

“When nothin’ happens, they’ll be some kinda uproar, they’ll take ya to the tower with the others, and I’ll come getcha.” He glances at your trembling hands. “What, marauders in your village no problem, but a little fake ass magic bullshit and you're scared?”

“I was willing to die,” you explain, “To free the others from you, but for myself, now I think I’d like to live, if that’s an option.” He chuckles, catching you as you stumble on the hem of your gown.

“Well don’t try anything that stupid here and you just might live to see winter.” He pulls you through a door into a large main passageway in the castle. The hallway has vaulted ceilings and it’s lit by torches. There are detailed tapestries hanging on the wall, and it must be well ventilated, because you can smell the sweet summer air, the fresh cut grass of the lawn. Your feet are still bare against against the sweet hay scattered on the grey stone. Bakugou’s footsteps echo here, his sword hanging at his hip. He puts one hand on a heavy wooden door, carved with the insignia of his house, a knight carrying a torch. “Don’t say anything.” He growls and you nod. In one fluid movement he opens the door. You jump a mile when trumpets blare, and someone calls loudly.

“Crown Prince Bakugou Katsuki, born under the shattered star, Son of Queen Mitsuki, The Unkneeling, The Great Phoenix, The Dragon Knight, The Lightbringer, your lips twitch as you fight off a smirk at the sheer length of his titles, and he squeezes your hand, a warning. “And F/n L/n, from the village of Damona.” There are chuckles, but you barely hear them. The throne room is huge, arching ceilings hundreds of feet in the air, candles burning, flickering gold and yellow off of the grey stone and the jewels of the gathered courtiers, making every shadow in the room dance. 

The throne itself is carved from the mountain's stone, glittering cool grey. The queen is the spitting image of her son, blonde hair threatening to burst loose from her long braid, in a deep red dress, adorned with gold and silver. The crown on her head is heavy and gleaming, with fiery rubies that catch the low light of the flames. The kingdom of Yuuei’s house symbols were everywhere, the knight is on banners and hangings, embroidered onto dresses, woven into the carpet that serves as a pathway to an altar at the center of the great hall. It’s nubby on your bare feet. You can read their house words on a banner over her perch. House Bakugou, From The Ashes, we rise.

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[6mommymilkers9]

If your comfortable with this, how would the four lords react to fem!reader being pregnant?

As soon as I read this, I knew I had to write it! Thanks for the request :)

The Four Lord's With A Pregnant S/O Headcannons

Alcina Dimitrescu

° Alcina is extremely ecstatic. Considering you both...lacked the necessary equipment to have a child of your own, it was planned, so it was nothing but happiness for the Lord and yourself.

° Lady Dimitrescu, having daughters of her own, knew nothing of how to care for an infant or child no more than the size of her calf. Her daughters were born from Cadou; this was something new. She won't say she was nervous, but her eyes told her lies.

° The pregnancy was a very 'on the fence' type. Life in the small village wasn't as boring as everyone thinks, so the constant excitement was a bit of a problem. Thankfully your daughters let their antics subside (The mom look Lady Dimitrescu gave them scared the shit outta them).

° With that, there were maids, of the highest order per Alcina's request, that took care of you. They had helped you walk around when your baby bump grew heavy, making you wobble. As well as with getting up the stairs and such. You never touched a single broom or dusk cleaner during this time.

° Alcina took care of you in the more intimate ways. Putting away her books and drama with Mother Miranda, she gave you her iconic smile as she helped you bathe or rub your back when it was a testing day. She always made sure you wore a face around her.

° Over all, she may be nervous, but absolutely in love with her unborn child, ready to see them any moment to spoil the hell out of them. It's mother instinct you know.

Salvatore Moreau

° Moreau, as soon as he heard the news, was scared AS SHIT! Before his mutations, he was a doctor, the birthing wasn't what bothered him. It was the part of "I'm a dad?"

° Only Mother Miranda knows how he landed you as a partner, but you carrying his child? Oh boy that was something new. Him being insecure, this made it worse, but at the same time made him happier than ever. All he ever wanted was a family, and looks like he was getting it, even if he had the personality of a wet towel.

° He would stalk up on books about parenting and pregnancy to help you at any point he physically or mentally could. Since he is physically disabled from his reactions to the Cadou, he isn't that much of help with walking around or such things of that sort. He is more than happy to help you talk your head off. Even if he can't speak well, he musters the longest conversations he could with you to get things off your mind.

° He gives you tons of offerings and gifts. If you mentioned you liked something, he would get it for you. Though, he found you much preferred to be wrapped in his coat on the large bed you two shared in the mines. He would smile everytime he walks in on you napping in his coat, his pride shows through.

° With his happiness, he worries about his child's conditions. Would they be the same as him? Would they have his same complications? With the little technology he had, he couldn't know the answer and that scared him.

° What he suffers from was preventable, he doesn't want his child to suffer from something they were born with. To him, he saw it as cruel. This ends up with you having to comfort him until you convinced him that whatever happened, your child would be loved the same. Things will be alright.

Donna Beneviento

° Well, it's the same concept with Lady Dimitrescu. It was planned with some help. Now, in contrast to Alcina, Donna had dealt with a small child, bearing her own. Do to an accident, her child passed away, which made her dive into her work as a doll maker.

° She was extremely scared. Not for you, but your baby. Her failure to protect her child in the past projected to her child now. What if she couldn't protect the baby? What would she do in an emergency? In summary, she is a big worrier.

° All the corners in the houses and sharp objects were child protected, and you were only in your first trimester! That's not the worst of it, she was always by your side. It sounds nice, but she was way too clingy. After some talking, she gave you room to breathe.

° As a doll maker, she also had a hobby of knitting clothes, making outfits for your child. They arranged from dinosaurs, to dolls, to even herbs. You watched as she knit and even tried it out for yourself. Let's just say you ended up with a deformed sleeve. You let Donna handle the clothing from then on.

°She is always there to comfort you in any way possible. If she is off for a meeting, she makes sure Angie stays with you to keep you company and help with anything you need. Angie sees you as her mother and treats you as such. She can't wait to see her new sibling.

° When you are in pain, you bet Donna is on her way to make some tea with special herbs to help with it. Her green thumb is something special in that garden of hers. You couldn't thank her enough. Better than a prescription from a doctor anyways.

°She and Angie take great care of you and make sure your needs and wants are met. You have two amazing people..and dolls by your side. Just wait until the little one arrives!

Karl Heisenberg

° He is on the fence about it, really. It's not like he doesn't want the child, but he doesn't have the best parental figures. He doesn't know if he would be a good father or not.

° Over time, he would ease up, listening to your encouraging words about your future family and events. Though he still has moments of doubt when he wanders around the factory to tend to the Soldats that were malfunctioning.

° He ain't soft and he ain't a sissy, but that facade is thrown down the drain when he would curl up behind you to wrap his arms around your baby bump and whisper to his unborn child. He isn't much of a singer, but he hums songs from his childhood against your bump, thinking the baby could hear him.

° Karl absolutely gushes over you and the baby when he can feel a kick. He can sense the strength the little one has already. "Atta champ! Just like your old man." He is going to drag for days to his machines about the strength of his child and how they will grow to be a great leader someday.

° He is overprotective as anyone could think. Especially when Mother Miranda is around. Her, thinking it's her grandchild, decided one day to pay a visit. Karl wouldn't have that, nearly tripping over his own feet to drag her ass to the bottom of hell's tunnel.

° No one is going to mess with you and he makes sure to everyone that is clear. The Soldats don't even try to bother you. In a factory of killing machines, you are the being they are most afraid to even look at. Just wait until your child is born. Those poor machines.

[honeymochibubbletea]

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Dottie~☆:

When the two finally arrived at Phantasmo’s mansion, Dottie starts worrying about what he would do to her

He strapped her to a chair and used a finger to lift her chin. He started caressing her face gently and intimidatingly. She was shaking like a chihuahua with dread and started to cry, Phantasmo upon seeing his “guest” crying like that, tries to reassure her that he won’t do anything bad to her, he only wants to know the source of her scent. She stopped crying a little and just waited for his next moves

After some research, Phantasmo would discover two things: that Dottie is already in a relationship with Agatha Barret (Baguette cookie human’s name) and that she’s actually a humanoid cookie person! He looks at her with interest and mischievous curiosity, he knows he promised not to hurt her but… a few eggs must be broken in order to make a cookie hehehe~

He only cuts one of her fingers (you know, no big deal) off and analyzed her reaction and the finger itself: she obviously felt pain (no shit Sherlock) and the finger looked like a cookie on the inside and she was bleeding coffee jam

He’s fascinated by this and… he teasingly eats the finger in front of her (you know, no big deal again) and she’s horrified by this:

Dottie: h-hey…! You’ll will have to bake a new finger for me! Why did you do this?!

Phantasmo: because sometimes i feel “hungry” to get more information about my “guests”~

Dottie: you literally ate my finger!

After some more research, Phantasmo would discover that it is possible to bake new body parts for the host if they lose a member or a little finger. Of course that Dottie is the one who showed him that, since he forgot how to bake things, usually it was T-oby who did that for him

After this little “disagreement”, they slowly were starting to become friends… and then, something more~

Of course, Dottie would still date Agatha. But now she, Phantasmo and Agatha were in a poly relationship! :D (of course, at first Agatha was very against also dating Phantasmo because he’s a criminal and a villain, these two wouldn’t get along so well… but since they both loved the same person, they started to tolerate each other’s presence)

Phantasmo’s favorite part of sniffing Dottie would be her hair, it’s where her coffee scent is the most stronger

Their size difference would be very visible and Phantasmo loves to embarrass and intimidate her with his size~ he would a lot of times press her against his chest just to hear her yelp, hehehe~

He loves calling her doll, darling or bittie (which would be a “new” word he created to not necessarily call her sweetie, since she was more bitter than sweet… after all he ate her finger soooo…)

Sometimes he would beg her to eat another finger but she would give him a dry no, but when he begs just right (and too much too) she just sighs and lets him LIGHTLY chew on her fingers

(He also loves licking her face sometimes too, hehehehahaha!)

She would be his conscience whenever he wants to do something evil or bad. And also threat to leave him if he doesn’t stop doing his evil shenanigans

He loves squeezing her cheeks, that’s it, that’s the headcanon. (I’m just a sucker for villains who squeeze their loved ones cheeks)

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Coffee Candy Cookie ~☆:

How did Dottie ended up in Phantasmo’s plate? Well: since she and baguette cookie works at the TBD, they both were sent to go to Phantasmo’s mansion to change his ways by reminding him of his past, since he always seem to forget it

When they arrived at Phantasmo’s kitchen, they were mistaken by T-oby as gingerbread man cookies that he made for his dad and he quickly grabbed them and placed them on the plate: CCC was too afraid to speak up and BC decided that it was best to remain silent until they got to Phantasmo

As i previously wrote:

Phantasmo: hehehe~ it was “nice” meeting you~

And with that, Phantasmo crushed CCC without any trouble

Baguette cookie saw the whole scene unfold before her very eyes: she… was horrified… but also now extremely angry!

She clenched her fists and started shouting at Phantasmo, he quickly noticed her and also grabbed her:

Bc: H-how… dare you! She was my girlfriend! Y-you killed her…! You… you monster!

Phantasmo: oh please, relax, she’ll be fine… i’ll make a new body for her from scratch!

Bc: you’ll… make a… new body from scratch…? Do you… really mean that…?

Phantasmo: of course~ and i’ll shall make a new body for you as well~

Bc: w-wait-!

Before bc could do anything, she was also crushed to dust by Phantasmo

And so, he started working on making new bodies for the two cookies, but this time he would make them human!

He killed two borrowers that were hiding under his desk and mixed with the soul jam and life powder

After some testing, he finally brought them back to life!

CCC gasped for air and BC was sweating cold: they couldn’t believe that they were back to life! (But they were also glad)

Phantasmo: see~? I’ve told you that i could do this~

Bc: …was it REALLY necessary to kill us?

Phantasmo: Hmpf! You are really ungrateful! I could have eaten you two but no: i gave you new bodies! A thanks would be really welcomed…

Ccc: …uh… thanks for bringing us back…? Wait… who did you kill to make these bodies for us…? And how did you make us look like our older selves?

Phantasmo: …let’s not worry about the details so much… say, what were you two doing in my mansion? Hmm? For what purpose?

After bc told Phantasmo about their mission, he scratched his chin and then smiled mischievously:

Phantasmo: say… could i keep your little girlfriend as my pet~?

Bc: absolutely no!

Phantasmo: Hmpf, you don’t really have a say on this…

And since then they’ve been living with Phantasmo (much to their dismay and dislike of him): after all… they couldn’t return to their normal lives anymore, they were not cookies anymore and they are dependent of him…

Phantasmo loves to tease both of them but he clearly enjoys teasing ccc more

He always sew new clothes for them, but he makes the most prettier for ccc because of her scent

Mysteriously, their scents were still on them

Phantasmo changed their names to Dottie and Agatha, after all, they were not cookies anymore, were they?

Agatha hates Phantasmo with a passion and Dottie… she just sometimes afraid of him, sometimes she likes him

Phantasmo loves to lick Dottie just to scare her

He usually sleeps with them over his chest or on his “hair”

Oh? So you're sad that there's almost no one in this fandom? Well guess what, here's a crack ship idea for you: Dr. Phantasmo x Coffee candy cookie! Muhehehehe! >:3

(yes, i know: this won't magically bring more fans to the Telltown fandom but I thought that this would make you chuckle a little bit and continue to give you more inspiration to make art for this small fandom! Please, don't give up! 🥺)

Holy. Fucking. Shit bro! This, now THIS is what i am talking about!

Yes just:

☆~Fucking Y E S~☆

And like, this one crackship actually makes a little bit of sense, come on, COME ON, just, just HEAR👏ME👏OUT👏:

Phantasmo does like coffee a lot, doesn’t he? And coffee candy cookie is made of coffee, so: it would be a match made in heaven! Like, Phantasmo would never try to hurt her or experiment on her because her scent would be intoxicating to him (he would be sort of a little addicted to her coffee scent) and she would have a big and strong ghost to protect her from whoever or whatever tries to hurt her in any way!

And like, i have now some ideas i cooked here for you guys!

Here’s two versions: the human one (where coffee candy cookie is a human and her name would be Dottie) and the cookie one!

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Dottie~☆:

So, like: you would be probably thinking, “ah but Honey mochi, if Phantasmo would be over heels for coffee candy cookie because of her scent as a cookie, how and why would he be over heels for her as a human if she doesn’t smell like coffee?” And ahahaha! Allow me to explain it to you >:)

I’m still figuring it out but, like, Dottie wouldn’t be a normal ordinary human: she would be a humanoid cookie person! (Basically, she would look like a human but have the features of a cookie: like, instead of blood, she would have coffee jam for example) So she would still have her coffee scent! ;D

With that out of the way, we can begin the headcanons!

These two would have met in a cafe where Phantasmo was looking (as usual) for victims for his experiments. He would quickly steal (because of course he isn’t going to pay for something he can’t even drink) a bag of coffee beans to make at home when he instantly smelled a delicious coffee scent coming from a apparently human girl…?

At first he was confused as to why and how this scent was coming from her. But quickly his confusion would become a curiosity and he was determined to find out how and why this girl has a strong coffee scent

He would overly confidently approach her and start some small talk with her:

Phantasmo: hello there darling~ I couldn’t help but notice that you have a strong scent of coffee coming from you, could i know how and why is that possible~?

Dottie: . . .I… w-who are you…?

Phantasmo: Ah~ where are my manners~? Dr. Phantasmo but… you especially may call me Phanta~

Dottie’s face goes pale from fear: she has heard about this infamous individual before. She quickly tries to get up to get out of there but Phantasmo had already grabbed her arm and lifted it above her head:

Phantasmo: Ah~ Ah~ Ah~ we don’t want to bring any… unnecessary attention, do we now darling~?

Dottie desperately tries to punch him and now the whole cafe was looking at the two and some people from the staff were trying to help her out, but Phantasmo (who honestly was having his patience on a thread with this whole situation) pulled out a gun and pointed at Dottie (don’t worry! The gun is fake, but no one needs to know about this besides Phantasmo):

Phantasmo: if any of you DARES to approach us, she dies~ am i clear? Good.

And when no one dared to challenge him, Phantasmo very calmly lifted effortlessly Dottie and placed her over his shoulder and started to float away with her as his hostage

She would yell and punch Phantasmo’s back until she would get tired of panicking so much and just, kind of give up

Aaaaand on my next post i’ll write more about CCC “human” version, i promise (it’s because it’s already midnight as i am writing this and i’m tired as fuuuuuck hahaha…)

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Coffee Candy Cookie ~☆:

These two would have met when CCC was looking for her girlfriend (Baguette Cookie) and somehow ended up in Phantasmo’s plate (also going to explain better how on my next post). Just when he picked her up to eat her (yes, yes i know, I KNOW: Phantasmo can’t CANONICALLY eat nor drink anything but this is all just some silly headcanons, soooo… on MY headcanons he can eat and drink, okay? Okay.) she desperately tries to shout and plead for her life

Phantasmo looked around to see who was talking with him, he just shrugged it off and when he was about to eat her, he opened his eyes and saw that the cookie he was going to eat was… alive…? He looked at her confused but also intrigued

He brought her closer to his face and started to examine her more closely:

Phantasmo: my… are my eyes and ears deceiving me or did you just… talked right now…?

CCC: …Y-yes… i am a living being you k-know…! You should be more careful when picking up cookies to eat! Some are alive!

Phantasmo: …My my… i must have really gone insane! Look at me: talking with a cookie! Gosh… but oh well, it’s like the saying: “if you’re crazy, just embrace your craziness” or something like that… say my delicious little “friend”, how in the world are you alive?

CCC: I… it’s because of the life powder that the witches use to create us… or so i believe is that…

Phantasmo: pfft, always magic… why don’t people just use the good old science to create life anymore? Well, it’s been a fun little chat with you but now i’m going to eat yo-

CCC: N-NO!!! Please don’t! I’ll do anything, ANYTHING j-just… don’t eat me… please…

Phantasmo: pffft buahahahahaha!!! Now that’s a good one: how exactly do you plan on being USEFUL for me~? I mean, you’re just a little treat in my eyes~

CCC: h-hey…! I can be u-useful…! Just please, give me a chance!

Phantasmo: hmm… yeah… maybe, just maybe you could be useful to me~ answer me this: how exactly do i, let’s just say, take your life powder out of you~?

CCC: W-well… we cookies also have soul jams but these two things are fused with our dough so… w-wait… y-you are… you are not REALLY considering doing what i think you are going to do… are y-you…?

Phantasmo: Hehehe~ it was “nice” meeting you~

To be continued… on my next post :p