#Might just keep it solid purple instead
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#sorpresa!#los campeones de la lucha libre#im thinking the mesh might be a bit much#Might just keep it solid purple instead
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“𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆?” [WRIOTHESLEY]
what happens when your gaze is hopelessly bound to those seemingly innocent, but inexplicably lewd handcuffs your boyfriend constantly carries around with him? ‧₊˚
genre. smut! nothing actually happens, but the entire thing is extremely suggestive, mentions of bondage & punishment, manhandling lol
pairing. wriothesley x reader
love, masu. ah, i think this is an amazing way to get myself back into writing on this blog again! my real writing style is finally being shown haha, none of that sickly, too cute stuff. hope you enjoy!!!!! let me know if you want a part two :))
Wriothesley always spoke with such a sultry, sickening tone that left you feeling your heartbeat in places you usually do not. Perhaps the gentle rasp was what left you so at his mercy? Or maybe, the simple yet defined vocabulary he used when explaining his day, or in other, more intimate moments, what he would like to do to you.
Having said all of this, why could you care not a shred for his words this very moment? Why were absolutely none of his sentences registering in you hazed mind? Instead of paying attention like a lover should, you had your hungry eyes pinned on those alluring, metal cuffs dangling from his belt. The images they conjure, the activities they connote: it all left you salivating and shuddering in the office of the infamous Duke. (Or in terms more personal to you, your lover.)
“Like I said, the prisoners become rowdy when they get bored. I’ll need to implement— Sweetheart, are you listening?” Wriothesley’s eyes dragged across your abnormal, quivering form and he mentally concluded that something was … distracting you.
You jumped out of fear of your daydreams being exposed, but also in mild concern of the daydreams themselves and their insatiable nature. Nodding fast like a guilty toddler, you blurted,
“Oh, I have never been better! Whatever gives you the impression I am not okay?”
The man in question took a careful glance at your wide, doe eyes and stiff form. Suddenly, his head tipped back just an inch or two, and a low chuckle departed from his lips. (The action having a much more arousing effect on your nether regions than you would ever admit.)
“I said ‘are you listening’, not ‘are you okay’. Well done for exposing yourself, sweetness.”
If only he knew what else you were hiding, you thought gravely to yourself. In a naïve belief that he had unknowingly saved you from a mortifying admission, you attempted to go along with his interpretation of your abnormality.
“How silly of me! I really am not with it-!”
Your hips were suddenly locked in solid grip, hard enough to invoke deep, purple bruises along your skin, and you were yanked into a firm but comfortable chest. A chest you knew all too well.
“Also, don’t think I didn’t noticed the way you were looking at my handcuffs, pretty. Got something you wanna’ tell me?”
“You’re mistaken, I— It was simply a one time glance! Absolutely nothing to do with—!”
Your boyfriend removed one hand from your waist and weaved the remaining arm tightly around your waist entirely, keeping you firm against him. His now free hand took a delicate hold of your jaw, and whilst lifting it up his face travelled closer to yours. His hot breath fanned over your lips, and all you wanted for him to rearrange your guts then and there.
“Ah, and now you’re lying? Lying is not very becoming, especially not on you. It makes you bad, and do you know what I do to bad girls?”
His ragged yet stylish hair, his impenetrable, piercing eyes, his strong hold on your body. The physique of a God, you thought. Every aspect of him, how his eyes were intently fixes on yours, waiting for you to answer his question, to use your words— as he was always so keen on you doing. It all came together to allow you to blurt out such a meek, pitiful and uncertain whimper,
“You punish them, Your Grace?”
A devilish smirk tugged on his lips.
“Clever girl. Your little … imaginations might just be brought to life far earlier then you expected. Now strip.”
2023 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!
#⋆ ˚。⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹#genshin impact#genshin#wriothesley#wriothesley genshin#wriothesley genshin impact#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#genshin x reader#genshin smut#tee hee#guys this is just a starter in the feast i have prepared …#i’m really hoping this does well over night and that my cuties havent abqndoned me 😭😭#anyways
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@jegulus-microfic // march 19 // prompt: thumb // words: 819 // part one + part three
“Oh, you bought new detergent! Won’t need mine anymore then.”
James wiggles the bottle at Regulus before unscrewing it. He measures the purple lavender-scented liquid and pours it into the designated little drawer. It took Regulus an embarrassingly long time to figure out what goes in which little compartment — he used to just pour it right onto the clothes in the machine and hope for the best.
Regulus tries not to focus on James’ deft fingers as they fiddle with the buttons on the machine, but it’s a tall order.
He likes James’ hands. Thinks they look warm and solid, rough but not unpleasant to hold. The tan skin stands out against the white of the machine, and the veins on the back of his ha—
“Regulus?”
He is yanked out of his thoughts. Probably for the better, because he was on the verge of drooling in the middle of the laundry room.
Regulus just hums, a non-committal thing, as he twists the cap on his own bottle of laundry detergent.
“What?” James asks, tossing a look over his shoulder. He presses the start button on the machine and turns, settling against it as it starts spinning behind him.
“Nothing.” Regulus busies himself with the settings on his own machine. He turns the dial, looking for the longest program. Hits start, waits for the machine to click and watches as water floods the drum just to buy himself an extra moment.
Eventually he turns to face James again, who has been patiently waiting with his arms crossed over his chest. The shirt he’s wearing looks soft and worn, the faded university logo revealing that the shirt is well-loved.
“It’s not nothing,” James says. “You’re blushing.”
This, inevitably, makes Regulus blush more. Red crawls its way up his neck and spills on his cheeks. He feels warm all over, thinks he might be blushing down to his chest.
“Okay, well, it’s embarrassing,” Regulus says, speaking around where he has a nail tucked between his teeth, biting at it.
“Tell me anyway.”
James makes it sound so easy. Voice so full of sincerity that there is no room for judgment.
“I didn’t run out of detergent the other day.” He lowers his hand, a tiny speck of blood on his thumb from where he bit at the skin. “Just wanted to use yours.”
“You’re right, that is a little embarrassing.”
Regulus’ eyes shoot up from where they were trained on the white tiles of the floor. Embarrassment floods through him, cresting and crashing until it drags him under.
“You—” But James is laughing. He has a hand on his stomach, the other on his knee, because he is laughing. “Oh, shut up! You’re such a piece of shit.”
Regulus looks for something to throw at James, but he comes up empty. The only thing in his vicinity is a nearly-full bottle of detergent and he is not annoyed enough to inflict brain damage.
Yet.
“I’m just fucking with you, love.” James says breathlessly, a little hiccup in his voice as laughter leaves it. He steps away from the machine he was leaning against, crowding into Regulus’ space instead. He has to tilt his head back a little to maintain eye contact with James.
“Does your son know that you’re cursing like this?”
“My son is two, he barely knows anything at all."
“Still. That was rude.”
He sounds petulant. Feels it, too. Mouth twisted up in a scowl despite the smile tugging at the corners.
“I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you,” James says, eyes trained on Regulus' lips. There is a question in his eyes and Regulus nods, a minute movement, careful not to disturb the quiet around them.
James leans in, hands settled on the machine, effectively caging Regulus in. And then James is so close that Regulus can feel puffs of air against his cheek. James’ hand is hovering over the side of his neck. The rumbling of the machines fades and all Regulus can hear is his heartbeat.
In that exact moment, when the whole world is holding it’s breath and the hands of the clock hesitate to keep ticking, a small cry erupts from the baby monitor.
James curses under his breath, taking a step back. Air floods Regulus’ lungs and he laments the fact that it does not smell like James. Like the soft lavender of his detergent. Like the soft lavender that had clung to his own clothes the week before.
“I’m sorry,” James says as he grabs the baby monitor. “I have to go check on him.”
“Of course, of course. Don’t worry about it.” Regulus waves him away, trying to relax his posture and slow the heavy beating of his heart.
“Maybe it’s for the better,” James says, halfway out the door. Regulus feels his heart plummet, taking a free-fall into his stomach. A knot lodges itself in his throat, but before he can speak, James continues. “I don’t think our first kiss should be in the laundry room, of all places.”
“First?”
“Of many. Goodnight, love.”
#more laundry room jeg#this is a few weeks after part one!!#i missed writing dialogue where regulus can actually uhh respond#regulus black#james potter#starchaser#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#mil's writing
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Thank you @oldfashionedmorphine for the cute prompt <3 <3 <3
~~~
Eddie stares at the thing he just pulled out of the cardboard box in front of him, concisely labeled "Kitchen". That makes him think it must be food-related (then again, Buck kept a ring cutter in his cutlery drawer, so who knows), but try as he might, he can't work it out. It's a bright green plastic knife, but the handle is weird—it's a grid instead of a solid surface, too wide and too flat to be comfortable to hold.
"What is this?"
He holds it up. Buck, who's sitting across from him, glances up, shrugs, and looks back down at Christopher's textbook.
"It's an avocado cutter."
"Why do you need an avocado cutter?" Eddie asks.
Buck looks up again. "Why do you think, Eddie? Not to cut apples, that's for sure."
Eddie reaches into the box again and takes out a (much more recognizable) plastic gadget—a red plastic frame and eight blades, arranged in the middle like spokes on a wheel. "And what's this?"
"That's an apple cutter."
Wordlessly, Eddie drops that back in the box and pulls out something long and yellow—
"Banana cutter."
—followed by something that looks exactly the same, except orange.
"Hot dog cutter," Buck says, with a smile.
"Uh huh." Eddie pulls out something purple.
"That's an onion," Buck cuts himself off, "dicer."
"An onion cutter," Eddie repeats.
"No, an onion dicer," Buck insists. "It said so on the package."
Eddie looks at the thing in his hands. It looks exactly like the apple cutter, but the blades are arranged in a grid, forming little squares instead of wedges. "What's the difference?"
Chris, sat between them and brooding over his English homework, stops chewing on his pencil just long enough to say, "It's obvious, dad. Cutters cut, dicers dice."
"It's obvious, Eddie," Buck echoes, smirking.
Eddie drops the onion cutter on the no pile, ignoring Buck's pout.
"I don't think you should be throwing out all of my shi—" Buck cuts himself off with a glance in Chris' direction. "All of my stuff. That's not the point of moving in together. Your stuff is supposed to mingle, Eddie."
"You can say shit, you know," Chris tells them boredly. "I'm not a baby."
"Our stuff is mingling," Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Chris, a silent admonishment Chris completely ignores. "But not this stuff. I already have a banana cutter. And an onion dicer. And all the other stuff in between."
Buck looks at him skeptically. "You do?"
Eddie nods and gets up. He walks to his cutlery drawer and pulls out a single kitchen knife. "See? It cuts, it dices, and it's universal."
"It's not shaped like a banana though."
Chris chuckles and quickly dips his head when Eddie looks at him, as if he's been focused on his homework the whole time. Eddie shakes his head.
"That sounds like a good thing, if you ask me."
"I guess I won't ask you, then," Buck replies.
Eddie sits back down. He would give in (he would fill every single drawer in this house with useless gadgets if it made Buck happy) but Buck's frown is clearly not genuine—the spark in his eyes is far too obvious.
"So what you're saying is," Buck continues, "as long as it's not a cutter, it's fine."
Eddie hesitates. "Why does that feel like a dangerous thing to say yes to?"
"Live on the edge, Eddie," Buck tells him sagely, and Eddie has never been one to back down from a challenge.
"Okay."
Buck pulls the box closer to him and starts rummaging through it. He produces some things Eddie doesn't mind saying yes to—spacer rings for his rolling pin, a collapsible silicone bowl for microwave popcorn, a pizza cutter shaped like a bicycle and cupcake tins shaped like firetrucks, which are just ridiculous enough that Eddie wants to see them in action.
"See," he says, "we're mingling."
"We are," Buck confirms, and there's something in his smirk that might be bad news. Eddie has seen that smirk before. It usually precedes a rope rescue or something equally dangerous. "So if you don't have something yet, I get to keep it, yeah?"
Eddie frowns. "That was the deal."
"Okay." Buck reaches into the box between them one last time and pulls out the weirdest thing Eddie has seen all day. It's chocolate-colored and square, with a round cylinder at the back. Two arms protrude from it, made from flexible white plastic. He shakes it lightly and those arms rattle, slapping against the flat base.
Eddie stares at it. "What on earth does that do?"
"It's a s'more maker," Buck says, tugging at one of the arms. "You put your crackers here, and your chocolate and your marshmallow, and then you put it in the microwave. And this little thing holds everything in place."
"We used it every time I stayed over at Buck's," Chris says fondly. "The s'mores taste really, really bad."
"Microwaved s'mores taste bad?" Eddie reaches out to tug at the other arm, then lets it fall back down. "Shocking."
Buck is smirking, and the thing is—Eddie knows fully well that this is a dare. He knows that Buck expects to be told to get rid of this thing, and that he would do it, gladly. And maybe that last part is why Eddie just shrugs instead.
"Okay."
"Okay?" Buck repeats, incredulously.
"Okay," Eddie confirms. "Bet we can clear some space for it."
Buck stares at him, stunned. "For real?"
Eddie reaches for Buck's hand, still holding the chocolate-colored monstrosity, and smooths his thumb across Buck's knuckles.
"It's your house too," he says simply.
It's Buck's house too. Buck isn't renting a room from Eddie, isn't staying here as a guest. Buck is a part of this household now, of this family. If he wants to make s'mores in their microwave, he doesn't need Eddie's permission.
Buck's eyes speak volumes. Later, when they're alone, Buck will kiss Eddie for this, hard enough that Eddie forgets about everything else. For now, he just flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, Buck's a little longer than Eddie's but calloused in all the same places.
Chris catches one glimpse of them and rolls his eyes, burying his face in his homework, but he's smiling too.
"Okay," Buck says quietly. "Okay. But I am getting rid of it. Chris is right. The s'mores are really bad."
"Could take it to work," Eddie says after a moment, when his brain is no longer too flooded with love to work properly. "Show it to Bobby."
"He'll disown me."
"Yeah, maybe. But his face would be worth it."
Buck's smile grows into a smirk, bright and devastating. He mouths the next words, for Chris' sake, but Eddie has heard them so many times by now that his brain fills in the gaps, that he hears Buck's voice as he reads Buck's lips: I love you.
"I know you do," Eddie replies. It takes one pout, and then he breaks. He mouths back, trusting Buck to be able to read him just as easily: I love you more.
"You two are embarrassing," Chris tells them. "And we're keeping the s'mores maker. I like it."
Just like that, it's settled.
#thank you for the prompt!!#this was cute (and buck would definitely be a kitchen gadget horder)#buddie#buddie 911#eddie diaz#evan buckley#buck x eddie#buddie fic#buddie fics#mine#q
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@purple-scales-and-tales asked:
Niananian wandered through the bustling streets of Inazuma, her wide eyes drinking in the unfamiliar sights. Neuvillette, her beloved Papa, was visiting Inazuma for diplomatic reasons and was currently at the Yashiro Commission's office, leaving Nian in the care of a babysitter. But, as was her nature, Nian was not one to sit still and wait. Just as she often did in Fontaine, she had slipped away, curious to explore this new city on her own.
The city was alive with vibrant colors and unfamiliar scents, filling Nian with awe and excitement. She darted through the streets, her small form weaving between the legs of bustling townsfolk, until a sharp, familiar scent made her freeze. It was a scent she knew all too well, and for all the wrong reasons. Her eyes locked onto a figure in the distance—a friend of her handler. Fear gripped her small heart as she realized what this could mean. Her handler wasn't here, but his friend was, and that could only mean one thing: they wanted to take her away from her Papa. She couldn't let that happen. Panic surged through her, and she turned on her heel, bolting down the narrow streets as fast as her little feet could carry her. Her non-human senses alerted her that she was being pursued, and she knew she had to find water, her safest refuge. But she didn't know where to find it in this strange land.
As she fled, her frantic dash came to a sudden stop when she collided with something solid. She yelped in surprise, falling back onto the cobblestone ground. Looking up, she saw a figure towering over her. He was tall, much taller than her Papa, with hair just as long and white, if not more so. The sight of him was eerily familiar, like déjà vu, reminding her of when she first met Neuvillette on the streets of Fontaine.
Before she could react further, the man chasing her caught up. "Stop that girl!" he called out to the tall man, his voice stern and authoritative.
Nian's wide, fearful eyes darted between the two men, but it wasn't the tall man she was afraid of. Her small hands clenched into fists, her body trembling. She was terrified of being taken away from her Papa, from the safety and love she had finally found. She stood up slowly, avoiding eye contact with her pursuer. Instead, she clung to the tall man's shin guards, hiding herself behind one of his legs. She barely reached his knee.
The Oni was just standing near one of the stalls lining the street, probably trying to decide what snack to buy when he felt something collide with him. Of course, before he was able to look in the direction of the soft yelp he'd heard, he heard a voice TRYING to sound authoritative. Oh, that was SO not going to fly.
He'd set his jaw, lips pressed into a thin line, head canted slightly to the eyes, and eyes narrowed. And that was all before he even bothered to respond to the man trying to get him to stop the poor girl who was trembling as she clung to his shin guards. Eventually, he'd fix his posture, showing he wasn't afraid of the man - who was obviously an outlander just going by his appearance.
"How about, no,"
It wasn't a question, and if the man knew what was good for him, he wouldn't try anything with the Yokai. He'd grin before summoning his claymore, and casually swinging it in one hand, carefully avoiding allowing the blade to even get close to the girl. Eventually, he'd stop playing with his weapon and merely place it in front of his feet, between his legs. The size of it would allow the area between his legs that might have still been visible to become obscured.
"Hey, little one? Climb up my jacket, I ain't lettin' this joker take ya."
He'd briefly caught the scent of something non-human prior to speaking. He spoke low enough that the mortal wouldn't catch his words, unless he was an idiot and had stepped closer to the Oni. Anyone who knew him, knew the Inauzman was going to keep the child safe, he was a protector, and she was obviously terrified of the man.
He wasn't going to allow the man anywhere near her.
"Ya step any closer and you're gonna have a really big problem on your hands."
He wasn't threatening the man, and any Shogunate nearby would know that, plus, he knew there were certain people around the area, all too ready to step in and cause a bit of chaos so he could get the little girl to safety, far from the creep who had been chasing her. Snack choice forgotten for now, should she not have climbed up, he'd figure out a way to try picking her up, before turning to begin leaving. He'd likely go to Granny's place, or perhaps Headquarters. Somewhere he knew was safe.
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Less about OCs, but I'm interested to know what your process is like when creating a piece as detailed as that one you posted for Valentine's Day. How do you go about it? And do you happen to do time-lapse videos?
hmm can't say I can give an explanation that's terribly interesting or satisfying lol... I'm almost entirely self-taught, so "process" is a very loose and nebulous concept for me, and it changes from piece to piece. the one common thread among my works is that they all involve obscene amounts of trial and error. I don't have any recent time-lapses because I never think to record them, but if I did you would definitely see how often I feel the need to adjust and redo every little thing.
for the Valentine's Day piece, because it was a "remake" I had the benefit of a much more solid foundation than usual to start out with. however you can still see where I ended up deviating from the sketch phase - most obvious being her pose, the design of her hair, and the details of her sandals. (there were also meant to be candles on the dresser, but I forgot and didn't feel like adding them back in later and so I decided a vague suggestion of candlelight was enough lmao)
anyways, compared to everything else, sketching and linework are fairly straightforward and come most easily to me. there really isn't much to say, just scribble some messy lines and then whittle away at and draw over them till they magically become less messy!
when it comes to coloring and shading, things get a lot weirder and more complicated. this is where my process tends to vary the most, because it really depends on the mood of the piece. for this one I wanted something dark and seductive, so I covered the whole image in a layer of burgundy red, then painted the "lighting" on top across several Overlay layers. additional shadow details were brushed in on Multiply layers using deep purple instead of straight black, but ultimately I didn't want them to be too dark, as that initial layer of red was meant to serve as the primary "shadow" of the piece.
this is also usually where I decide which lines I want to "color" with clipping masks, which can either make certain elements pop or feel softer. it sorta brings the whole image together, giving it a much more painterly look overall. from there all that's left is to keep making adjustments and adding little details - the glittery effect on her dress was one of the last things I added, I thought it looked really nice!
...ok now take everything I just said and throw it all in a blender. because even though it might sound fairly orderly, the truth is I'm constantly making changes to all stages of my works, even the earliest ones, all the way to the end. I'll still be making adjustments to the linework and such after I've already put so much effort into the lights and shading! it's not the most efficient way of doing things... but again, trial and error. my perfectionism gets the better of me...
anyways I apologize if NONE of this made any sense, like I said I never had any formal training in art, so I'm not very good at teaching or explaining it!! at the end of the day my process is less about what makes logical sense and more about finding what feels right in a given moment. at the very least I hope it was a fun read lmao 🥳
#evayo asks#evayo art#glassborn#ocs#fun fact: i had no idea what to put in those dialogue bubbles till like an hour before upload LMAO... she could've been saying anything 🙊#art
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Ok so I kind of need some help with something. So I decide to make a small miraculous au where the miracle box is from Europe instead of China. I've already decided to replace the Chinese zodiac with the Greek zodiac, to keep the main seven, and up the duo to a trio. It's just who goes where and what I want the duo to be that has me mixed up.
Ok so I know I want the remaining four to represent the four seasons, so:
Bee - Spring Peacock - Summer Fox - Autumn Butterfly - Winter
The trio I originally thought to have represent the sun, moon, and earth, with
Ladybug - Sun Cat - Moon Turtle - Earth (because World Turtle)
But I still felt iffy about the butterfly being winter, and consider swapping the cat and butterfly, but then I remembered the World Turtle is from Hindu and Chinese mythology and that might not go well with want I want to go for. So then I thought what if I go for the 3 domains, so
Ladybug - Sky Cat - Land Turtle - Sea
But I'm still unsure about the Butterfly and the swap from Sun, Moon, and Earth to the three domains, because I can't make a decision for the life of me. So do you think the butterfly is good as winter? And which do you think would be better fro the trio Sun, Moon, and Earth or the Three Domains?
So, when trying to group up Miraculous and do a different spin, I try to do something with color first and foremost.
So by default, I'm not sold on Turtle being part of the Trio, as that makes Ladybug the odd one out as Turtle and Cat both have green, which is really unfortunate for me.
Typically, I'd say the 3rd to trio with red and green should be yellow, blue, or purple. So if you don't want two bugs or mammals, that leaves Peafowl as the third. Which I would say: Ladybug Sun, Cat Moon, and Peafowl Earth (as it's the earthly phoenix). Though it doesn't work well for the 3 Domains.
And good trio of colors is red, yellow, and blue; which if Nooroo was blue or indigo, could've been a solid bug trio. Oh well.
As for what you wanted for seasons, I would vote swapping Bee and Peafowl personally.
But if Peafowl is made to be part of the trio, you can decide your season group through elements.
Air is tied to Spring.
Fire to Summer.
Earth to Autumn.
Water to Winter.
Turtle is usually tied to water, but can also be earth, so it could be autumn or winter.
Butterfly is an airy bug so easy pick for Spring.
Foxes are largely associated with fire so Summer.
And Bee I could see air or earth, air is an element of communication, which bees are known for, but earth is one of responsibility, which earth is tied to. Probably would vote autumn as Butterfly better matches with air.
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Jungle Gym [Kidnapped Reader + True Knot]
Title: Jungle Gym [Kidnapped Reader + True Knot]
Synopsis: You were supposed to get tortured tonight. Instead, you hid. Companion piece to Pasteurized.
Word count: 1171
notes: kidnapped reader, descriptions of past torture, reader is afab; combination of movie and book canon
At 9 PM, an hour when the sun had set and the sky was deep blue-black and all dotted with stars, you were supposed to head down to the clearing and sit nice and pretty and wait for Rose the Hat to strike the first blow.
Literally, the first blow. This was not some metaphorical musing or purple prose. She usually started your torture sessions (they were, of course, the True Knot’s feeding sessions) with a solid kick to the ribs or the side, to knock you down, and get you in a nice prone position for whatever was coming next.
The sharp pain, she said, was a bit like dropping a steak onto a sizzling hot pain. It gave your flavor a nice crust.
You had done this dutifully for some years now. When you were a child, they dragged you there or Crow Daddy took your hand and led you there without giving you room to struggle; you had no choice. As you got older, it became something of a chore marked on a calendar.
Friday: Make bed, wash dishes, head down to the bonfire to get tortured for hours.
It was something you did because you were supposed to, because the alternative was worse. Because some sick part of you wanted them to like you, and not making them work hard for their food seemed to do just that.
Tonight, though, you didn’t brace yourself and walk down to the clearing. You snuck out of the little camper where you lived with Silent Sarey and crawled, silent as you please, to the creaky old playground set up away from camp. A public playground where anyone staying at the campground could go.
It was a stupid move, in all respects. They would find you. They would hurt you more for giving them trouble. Especially when they treated you so well; that was always the line when you were younger. You should be grateful that they didn’t chain you up like a dog in the dark.
And you were grateful, most of the time. Really. Truly. You were grateful every time you got a birthday cake or Rose the Hat had a civil conversation instead of sneering at you like a smart-mouthed roast dinner. You were grateful for your bed and your notebooks and your magazines.
You were grateful for Crow Daddy--your daddy--who made sure you got schooling and took you to the movies and always treated you with care, so long as you acted right.
But there was only so much pain you could take. And tonight, you could take no more.
Not that it mattered what you could take.
It’s Crow Daddy who finds you. And you know that it was probably on purpose, because he’s the only one whose presence wouldn’t immediately make you want to bolt. To convince you to come willingly, so there wouldn’t be a scene. If they were fine with you screaming and kicking, they might have sent Barry to drag you by your armpits or heaven forbid, Rose, all simmering anger to draw you out with threats.
But instead it’s Crow Daddy who kneels in front of the jungle gym. It was the only piece of equipment big enough for you to fit under. Woodchips dig into your thighs, and you shift uncomfortably on the ground.
“Hey, there,” he says. Casual as you please. Like you weren’t tucked under a piece of playground equipment at night, hiding from your tormentors.
You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek and keep your eyes staring down at your lap. If you don’t talk, you can stay here longer. Delay the inevitable.
He sighs, a slow, soft sound in the night. Crickets sing behind his breath.
“Well. Didn’t think you hated me so much, honey.”
Something lurches in your chest, and you look up. The moonlight plays on Crow Daddy’s face. He looks serious and sad and Christ, worst of all, disappointed in you.
“What? No, I don’t hate you, I-”
Crow Daddy shakes his head, cutting you off. “You want me to starve, is that it? Me and Miss Rose? And Grandpa Flick, too? You saw he’s been using a cane lately. But I guess you want him to go on hurtin’.”
Tears prick at your eyes. Grandpa Flick had been walking stiffly the past few weeks. Rose had been helping him up and down. He didn’t have the skip in his step that he got right after, well--right after he fed on your tortured, nourishing steam.
Was it wrong, to feel bad for him? He was one of the people who kidnapped you, but he wasn’t so bad when he was in a good mood. He got you presents and patted your head and told you old, old, old stories.
And Crow Daddy, of course, of course you didn’t want him to hurt.
“I don’t want you to starve, daddy. Or Miss Rose or anyone. I would never…” You would never what, you think? Never run away? It wasn’t a possibility. Never deny them food? You didn’t have a choice.
He gestures for you to come closer, and you obey. The wood chips dig into your knees as you crawl out from underneath the jungle gym and sit in front of Crow Daddy, who gives you a once over.
“Then why are you hiding when you know it’s supper, hm?”
There are a million things you could say.
All you do is whimper stupidly. The ghosts of pains past ripple through your memory. The knives, the beatings. The crowbars. The hornets.
“It’ll hurt.”
Crow Daddy puts one firm hand on your shoulder.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s gotta hurt, though. Don’t you want us to stay nice and strong?”
You nod. There’s only one answer he wants. He’s kind enough to take your hand and lead you right to it.
“Yes, daddy.”
His serious frown breaks into a smile, and you smile, too. Not because you’re happy but because when he smiles it means he’s not disappointed in you and in this big fucked up world, that’s all you have.
He chucks your chin with his fingers.
“That’s my girl.”
He stands, and extends his hand, and you take it. He grips it tight as he leads you away from the playground and towards the flickering light of the bonfire in the distance. You try not to fight against what’s coming, which will surely be worse than whatever they had planned originally. Instead you just accept it. Accept that you’re going to walk straight into a den of creatures that are going to hurt you until your throat is bleeding raw from the screams.
You wonder: will your bittersweet acceptance tonight add a new flavor to the taste of your steam?
And did it matter? What truly mattered was the pain. It was the pain that purified your steam and made it filling and nourishing, like ultra-concentrated vitamins that they inhaled in the darkness of the night.
After all--
It’s gotta hurt.
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Courtship 5: Outfit
Lacey figures out what she's going to wear on her date
Read on AO3
The pile of clothes covered Lacey’s twin bed. She’d spent the better part of an hour matching blouses with slacks with sweaters in a vain attempt to find the magic combination that would make her look less like the president of the student council and more like Mr. Gold’s perfect slut.
Nothing worked. So far, her best options were to wear her summer sundress in the middle of winter with no coat, or to take a pair of scissors to the long black skirt she had worn to her mother’s funeral. That last one might have been an option, if she had a sewing machine like Mara. But she didn’t, and showing up at Mr. Gold’s house wearing unhemmed rags was probably as bad an idea as showing up wearing pants. If she had a sleeveless top, she might consider wearing the skirt as it was. She could try to go for a sort of hippy, Bohemian look. But the most revealing blouse Lacey French owned had puffed-up sleeves, like a fucking five-year-old.
Groaning, she fell backwards onto the pile. Some of this stuff she had got in middle school. The fact that they still fit her had been an advantage every time she’d decided to spend her limited funds on books instead of clothes, but it also meant that Lacey had never aged up her personal style. She didn’t have anything that made her look or feel like an adult.
The purple-blue dress shimmered in her dirty clothes hamper. She had jumped the gun by wearing her only sexy outfit on her first date with Mr. Gold. She had set the bar too high. Now he would have expectations of how Miss French liked to dress. More than that, Mr. Gold in his suits had standards. If she met him looking like a mess, he’d drive off and leave her on the curb.
At least he didn’t seem to mind if she left him looking like a mess. He hadn’t minded bringing her home with a wrinkled skirt and no stockings or underwear. She wanted that to happen again, but before it could, Lacey had to look presentable. None of her clothes were cutting it. She had to take action.
She pulled a white button-up off the pile and rubbed a smear of foundation over her hickey. Then she went downstairs into the shop. Dad was sitting by the cash register, looking through a faded design book.
Mom had known all the designs for bouquets and arrangements by heart, but Dad always needed to double check with the book.
“Anything happen today?” Lacey asked.
He shook his head, didn’t look up.
“We should call up everyone who ordered from us last year and remind them that V-day is in less than three weeks.”
“They know,” he grumbled. “This time of year, no one has any money. The men at Fish King will get paid on Friday, that’s when the orders will start. But they won’t really pick up until the next payday, the eleventh.”
He was right. It happened like that every year. All the orders came in at the very last minute. Valentine’s Day weekend was two solid days of constant work getting everything put together.
And it was too far away to do Lacey any good.
“So I’m guessing this is not a good time to discuss the subject of me ever getting paid for the hours I put in?”
Her father looked at her like she had just told an offensive joke that wasn’t even funny. Had his eyes always been so bloodshot? Had he always looked like a sad cartoon dog?
“You keep your tips.” He looked down at the book again. “You have money when the store has money, when we’re not racking up daily fees from that bastard Gold.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Lacey rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Just thought I’d ask.”
Of course Dad didn’t have any money to give her. That was their whole problem. Game of Thorns was a family business, the only income any of them had. For as long as she’d worked in the store, her pay had come in the form of food and shelter. Her reward for helping keep the place open was that it stayed open. It might not have been unreasonable to ask for more, but she knew it was unattainable.
“Ask again when Valentine’s is over,” Dad said. “We get out of this hole… I’ll try to make something work.”
She’d heard that before. Her father always had all kinds of plans and dreams for when things got better. Not that things ever did get better. Not that they ever would. The only thing worse than knowing that fact would be admitting it. So Lacey gave her father a tight smile and pretended she believed him, just like she always did.
****
She made her way over to Marine Automotive, where her Uncle Manny was locking the front doors from the outside. When he saw her loitering, he beamed.
“Hey! There’s my favorite niece!”
Uncle Manny looked like Dad if nothing bad had ever happened to him. He had the same height and stocky build. He had the same curly hair that was also the bane of Lacey’s existence. But where Moe French was loud when he was angry, Manny French was loud when he was happy--and he was always loud. He wrapped Lacey up in a bear hug.
“How you doing, Ace? What brings you by?”
She cut to the chase. “Are you going to the Rabbit Hole tonight?”
Her uncle wasn’t a huge drinker, but he was the only person Lacey knew who regularly went to Storybrooke's only bar.
“I wasn’t planning on it. They’re aren’t any games tonight. But I take it you need an escort?”
Lacey raised her shoulders in a half-apology. “They won’t let me in without a parent-slash-guardian.”
“Ah, to be young again!�� Uncle Manny wrapped one arm around her. “You’ll miss it one of these days, I promise you. But yeah, we can have a night on the town. I’ll even buy you a Shirley Temple.”
“Oh come on,” she gave him a playful nudge. “I am an adult, even if I can’t drink. I should at least get a Coke and Coke.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
****
The Rabbit Hole was dead. Between the lack of sports on TV and the town-wide lack of money until payday, most people were staying home. The only ones here were people like Leroy Miner, people who had nowhere else to go. Like the old song said, sharing a drink they called loneliness was better than drinking alone.
Undeterred, Lacey took her uncle-approved non-alcoholic beverage over to the pool table by the fireplace. She took off her hoodie and unbuttoned her blouse a little. This whole thing was a risky move, but it was the best plan she had. Hustling pool paid off more often than it didn’t.
Eyeing the room, she bent over the pool table, just far enough to get a little attention. She lined up a shot and missed on purpose.
“Oh crap!” she said too loudly. “Must not be my night.”
After ten minutes of staged failure, Lacey let herself land a shot. She squealed when the ball went into the pocket. The sound made people’s heads turn, and she treated them all to a too-wide, too-apologetic smile.
Only one person smiled back. Keith Sherwood turned on his bar stool to watch her. Lacey tried to remember her other encounters with Keith. Did he usually stare more at her ass or her boobs? For safety’s sake, she did both. She leaned far enough over the table that Keith could look down her cleavage, then moved around to the other side for the next shot. She stuck her ass in the air, practically humping the felt to keep his attention.
“Boys always make it look so easy,” she pouted after another ball just barely missed the pocket.
When Keith began to walk over to her, she turned her back to him. That way she could pretend to be surprised by his arrival. With careful concentration, Lacey managed to get a ball a full foot away from what anyone watching would have assumed was her target. It was actually harder to be bad on purpose, but it paid off.
“You having fun, sweet thing?” Keith leaned against the pool table, beer in hand, right in front of her.
Lacey giggled. “It’d be more fun if I had someone to play with.”
Keith chuckled. A lock of his hair fell down into his eyes. “I bet it would be. You had a lot of fun playing with me last time, didn’t you?”
How much money had she taken from Keith the last time she had tried this? Sometimes she got cocky and her marks got mad about being taken. Lacey couldn’t remember if she had ever crowed about fleecing Keith. Unfortunately, he probably did.
She fluttered her eyelashes. “It was a lot of fun,” she cooed. “I think I got lucky that night.”
“I bet you’re gonna get lucky again.” He was standing too close to her. “I bet your luck will get better and better all night, especially when we start playing double or nothing.”
Crap. She had definitely rubbed Keith’s face in it last time. Now he was wise to her. That was the problem with a small town. Oh well, at least she’d tried.
“So is that a bet?” she said in her real voice. “Do you wanna put money down on whether or not I’m actually hustling you? Cuz I’ll take you up on that one.”
Keith shook his head. He put his hand down on top of hers on the edge of the pool table. He was still smiling.
“You know there’s another game we can play together. It’s a lot more fun than pool.”
Ugh.
Lacey backed away. “It might be fun for you, but I don’t think I’d get much out of it.”
He followed her. “How do you know? Maybe it’d be more fun if you hustled me. That’d make things interesting, wouldn’t it? Twenty bucks says I can make you see heaven.”
She snorted. “Did you just say you’ll pay to screw me?”
Keith kept smiling. “You were gonna screw me all over this table and take my money anyway. I like my version better.”
Lacey’s blood suddenly went cold. This wasn’t funny anymore. It wasn’t a game. This asshole would seriously give her money if she went home with him. It would be so easy to go along with it. Twenty dollars for two orgasms--his would be real, hers would be fake.
Would that be enough to buy a new skirt? Was she seriously fucking considering this?
She clenched her jaw.
“I’m not a fucking hooker, Keith.”
He raised his arms in a pacifying gesture. “No harm, no foul,” he said. “I just don’t see how it’s any different from taking a girl to dinner first. Man pays for sex either way.”
Turning away, she slid her pool cue back on the rack.
“You’re a pig.”
“Go ahead, darlin’, keep talking dirty. See what happens.”
Lacey kept her head held high as she went back to the bar where her uncle was nursing a beer.
“I need to get out of here,” she told him.
“Sounds good.” Uncle Manny took out his wallet and tossed a few crumpled fives onto the bar. “I’ll walk you home.”
****
Outside, Lacey pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her hoodie and hugged her arms over her chest. This stupid button down was too frumpy to make her sexy and too thin to keep her warm.
“Pool wasn’t any good for you tonight?” Uncle Manny asked casually.
“No,” she admitted. “Fricking Keith threw me off my game.”
“What do you need money for anyway? That dad of yours not feeding you?”
“I need money cuz I don’t have any.” Lacey kicked at a chunk of dirty snow. “Nobody does.”
“I’ve got a little, for the smartest kid in Storybrooke.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “You wanna tell me what it’s for?”
Lacey bit the inside of her mouth. She didn’t want to lie to her uncle, but she sure as hell didn’t want to tell him the truth. She walked in silence for a minute. He stayed with her. Finally, she said it.
“I wanna get some new clothes.”
“Like a real coat?”
She shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I could. If I had enough.”
“And this is a sudden yearning that couldn’t wait?”
She shrugged again. There was nothing like being around a parent-slash-guardian to make her feel like a complete child.
“Ace, what’s going on?”
She took a breath. “I… don’t want to tell you.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Lacey French, if you’re doing things you don’t want people to know about, then you shouldn’t do them.”
“It’s nothing bad!” Lacey pushed him away. “It’s just… personal.”
“That’s not reassuring,” he said. “What’s going on? What do you need money for?”
“I told you, to buy clothes!”
“Clothes for what? You can tell me, Lacey. I’ll help you out if you’re honest.”
“I just want to look nice on a date!” She shrieked the words out into the night. They hung in the air with the cloud of her breath.
Uncle Manny looked at her, confused and sympathetic at the same time. Eventually, he broke out into a broad smile.
“But that’s great, honey! You should go on dates. Why-- why didn’t you say so to begin with?”
She pulled her hands up through the neck hole of her hoodie to rub her face.
“I’m… It’s because of who I’m going out with.”
Uncle Manny scoffed and put his arm around her as they walked. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of dating someone. Unless it’s someone you should be ashamed of, but then you just don’t date them. It’s not a girl, is it?”
Lacey shook her head, to which Uncle Manny nodded.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, not in this modern world. You know I’m with you no matter what.”
She nodded.
“And of course, no boy is ever going to be good enough for you. But as long as he’s not married, or some kind of asshole like that bastard Gold, there’s no reason to sneak around like--Lacey?”
She had stopped in her tracks. She looked up at her uncle and chewed on her lower lip.
Realization dawned. Uncle Manny let out a long breath.
“Lace.” His voice was rough. “Tell me you’re dating a married man.”
Lips pressed together, she shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Standing in place, Uncle Manny stomped his work boots onto the sidewalk. The intent seemed to be half to warm his feet and half to cool his head.
“Gold,” he whispered. He pointed in the direction of Mr. Gold’s pawn shop. “That Gold? The guy that has every working person in Storybrooke by balls? The guy who’s practically the reason all of us are living paycheck to paycheck? You’re going on dates with him?”
She shrugged. “It’s only been one date so far, but he asked me to come to his house on Friday.”
“And you said yes? What, does he have something on you? Is that why you need money?”
“No!” Lacey insisted. “I was telling the truth! I just need clothes that are good enough for him.”
“‘Good enough for him?’ He’s not good enough for you, Lacey! That man is a scourge. He’s a parasite. He’s--he’s old enough to be your father!”
“If he was my father, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d actually have a good life.”
“You have a good life.” Uncle Manny wasn’t angry anymore. Or if he was, his anger had become still and stern. “Your parents worked every day to give you a good life.”
“And where did it get them?” Lacey snapped. “Where did it get me? Yes, we work hard, but our only reward is getting to work even harder. And I’m so tired.” Her face was hot. God, she was sniffling. “Being with Mr. Gold feels like a break, and that’s all I want anymore. Just a freaking break.”
Uncle Manny’s arms were around her. He pulled her against his coveralls that smelled like motor oil and sweat. He squeezed her tight and patted her back as she tried to stop crying.
“Sorry,” she sniffed when they broke apart.
“Hey,” he tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”
Despite her tears, Lacey laughed. It was an old joke for them. She knew what her next line had to be: “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”
He hugged her again, kissed the top of her head. They didn’t talk until they were in front of Game of Thorns.
“I’d stay for dinner, but I’ve had Moe’s cooking before.”
She snorted at another joke she’d heard a thousand times, then she turned serious. “Um. You’re not going to tell anybody, are you?”
“About your…” he searched for the words, then shrugged, “love life?”
“Yeah. You know my dad will blow a gasket if he finds out I’m even talking to Mr. Gold, let alone--”
“Yeah, I know.” Uncle Manny cut her off. Clearly, he didn’t want to hear what she was doing with Mr. Gold.
“So, please don’t tell him? Promise?”
Her uncle sucked his teeth and slowly shook his head in silence. It took a long minute before he looked at her again.
“Okay,” he said. “You’re an adult. You know your own mind, you can make your own decisions. It’s just--be smart, okay? You are an adult, but you’re also our little girl. Me, your dad, your mom, rest her soul--we don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I promise I won’t get hurt, if you promise not to blab my business all over town.”
“Aright,” he sighed. He pulled her in for a tight hug. “I promise. Just--please, take care of yourself.”
She squeezed her uncle, then headed for the door. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
****
Lacey spent the entire working day on Thursday psychically willing the phone to ring with orders, preferably orders that had to be filled as soon as possible. Doing a rush job would give them an excuse to charge extra. She wouldn’t wish a funeral on anyone, but wouldn’t this be a great weekend for an impromptu wedding? So many of Lacey’s problems would be solved if just one panicked bride would come in and beg them to fill Dodci’s Dance Hall with centerpieces and garlands, not to mention all the bouquets and boutonnieres and flowers for the church too. Or maybe someone important could get sick and everyone in Storybrooke would send flowers to the hospital. Wasn’t there anyone in Storybrooke who was celebrating anything? Did people not have birthdays in late January? There were so many reasons people could need flowers. But this wasn’t a day when people did.
Hustling at the Rabbit Hole wasn’t an option anymore. If this were any other occasion, she would borrow a skirt from Mara or Janine, but that didn’t seem like a possibility. They wouldn’t take the news of her going on a date with Mr. Gold any better than Uncle Manny had. Mara’s store, where she also lived, was rented from Mr. Gold, and Janine had taken out a loan to pay for her beautician supplies. Both of them--really everyone in Storybrooke--saw him as the enemy. As far as they cared to think about it, he was the reason they were poor. If Lacey told her friends how much she wanted to be around him, they would think she was crazy, or morally degenerate.
Maybe she was.
Or maybe they were wrong. Had her friends ever eaten at Bella Notte? Had they ever worn a dress that made them feel like sex on two legs? Had they ever watched a hapless waiter get strong-armed into breaking a stupid law for them? Had they ever been inside Mr. Gold’s house? Had they ever taken clothes off just because a man had asked them to? Had they ever known the thrill of promising to do whatever another person told them to do? Had they ever known the peace of being an object, of kneeling silently at someone’s feet?
Could they even understand why that was something anyone would want? Let alone that it was something Lacey craved in a place deeper than her bones? Some dark, hidden part of her soul wanted Mr. Gold, like she had never wanted anything else.
And not having enough money to buy a stupid fucking skirt might keep her away from him forever. She could not abide that thought.
When Friday was another dud--a few orders came in, but they wouldn’t pay until delivery--Lacey knew that she was out of options. Since Mr. Gold would be picking her up tonight at eight, she was also out of time. So she did what everyone in Storybrooke did when they had nowhere else to go.
She went to the pawn shop.
****
Lacey had always been intrigued by the phrasing of Mr. Gold’s store. The sign said Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer. Most stores advertised the goods sold inside, but Mr. Gold advertised himself. This was who he was, this was what he did. No one came to this store because they needed things, they came because they needed what only he could offer them. Usually, they needed it enough to pay whatever price he set.
When it came down to it, Lacey really wasn’t that different from any other desperate soul who came to Mr. Gold. The only difference was what she wanted.
It was three in the afternoon. Not technically her lunch break, but it wasn’t like she was getting paid to stick around the flower shop. Lacey changed into some gray dress pants and covered her work shirt with her least-frumpy cardigan. She stuffed her purse full of old toys and oddities that might--cumulatively, optimistically--be worth about ten dollars. She yelled at Dad that she was going out for a minute and then walked over to Mr. Gold’s.
The bell rang over her head when she walked through the front door. Mr. Gold was behind the counter, writing something in a ledger. He looked up at the sound and gave the slightest grin when he saw that it was her.
“Miss French,” he said, with just a touch of warmth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Lacey bit her lip, but forced herself to stay cool. She looked around at the shelves and display cases, slowly making her way forward. Another time, she would have marveled at the art and jewelry and historic do-dads, but now she slunk past them.
“I…” she dragged out the word, unsure of what she was saying as she said it, “was wondering… if you have any clothes for sale.”
Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows. “Clothes?”
“Yeah.” She stopped in front of a spinning rack of necklaces. She couldn’t look at him. “You know, like vintage stuff?”
He walked over to her, behind the display case. “I’ve got some historic naval uniforms, but nothing that would suit you.”
He was in front of her now, so they were separated by nothing but two feet of glass and gadgets. She didn’t raise her head. Some of these necklaces were really pretty. One gold chain with a mother-of-pearl pendant spoke to her for some reason.
“What do you need, Miss French?”
His voice was gentle, coaxing. He understood how much she hated what she was doing. He probably talked to a lot of people who were feeling what she was feeling. At least he didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfort.
Lacey took a breath, and looked up at him.
“I need a skirt,” she admitted. “I don’t have anything to wear on our date tonight.”
He blinked. Then his face grew infinitesimally softer.
“I see,” he said.
“I brought some stuff.” She set her purse on the counter, began to pull out the junk she’d brought from home. “I thought I might--”
“Please,” he held up a hand. “You don’t need to do that. I’m more than happy to assist you, Miss French.” He turned away from her, went back over to his antique cash register.
“I can pay you back…”
“Oh you will,” he grinned. He took a bill out of the cash register and set it on the counter. Lacey came closer and saw that it was a fifty. “Will this be enough?”
She fought the urge to snatch the money and run all the way to Modern Fashions. It was the same feeling she’d had when he’d given her the money to tip that stupid waiter. The thrill, the rush, of having cash and knowing she could do anything with it. Fifty dollars was more than she had spent on clothes in the past year. Fifty dollars could cover the bill at Granny’s for her whole family--or at least for Janine and Mara to have real lunches.
Fifty dollars was more than twice what Keith had offered her to have sex with him.
Lacey pulled her hands back. She dug her fingernails into her palms.
“I… I shouldn’t accept this,” she said.
“Why not?” Mr. Gold asked, unperturbed. “Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you? Wouldn’t you say that ship has sailed, Miss French?”
She looked down at the dirt-stained sneakers she wore for work. In a resigned whisper, she told Mr. Gold the same thing she said to Keith at the Rabbit Hole.
“I’m not a hooker.”
“Of course not.” Mr. Gold’s voice was smooth and confident. He came out from behind the counter to stand in front of her. Slowly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, subtly forcing her to look at him. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants and who will do whatever she needs to do to make it happen.”
Lacey’s breath shook. Her eyes were hot and she was trembling.
“What do you want?” he asked her. He really was being very patient.
“I want to go on another date with you, Mr. Gold.”
“And what do you need to do in order to make that happen?”
“I need--” she stopped. I need a skirt wasn’t the right answer. Mr. Gold had asked her what she needed to do. “I need to get some money, Mr. Gold.”
“Ask me for it.” He gave the order like it was a caress. “Ask me for the money and I’ll give it to you, Miss French.”
This wasn’t like with Keith. This wasn’t being so desperate for money that she’d have sex with a stranger. This was being so desperate for sex that she’d take money to make sure she’d get it. She’d let Mr. Gold pay her like a whore just to make sure he kept treating her like a slut.
She swallowed. She had to swallow a few times before she was brave enough to speak.
“Please, Mr. Gold, will you give me fifty dollars so I can have something suitable to wear for our date tonight?”
“I would be happy too, Miss French.” He lowered his hand from her cheek and picked the bill up off of the counter. Gently, he took her hand by the wrist, placed the fifty on her palm, and closed her fingers over it.
He grinned at her.
“Buy yourself something pretty.”
Lacey clenched her jaw. Now he was enjoying this. She bit back words that would make him take the money back. Instead, she said what she knew he wanted her to say.
“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”
“You’re quite welcome, Miss French.”
He turned around then, went back behind the counter. Lacey understood she was dismissed. Facing the door, she took a breath and checked to make sure none of her tears had spilled out onto her cheeks.
Before she opened the door, Mr. Gold called over to her.
“Miss French,” he said. “If you happen to buy a red skirt and wear nothing underneath it, I will eat your cunt for dessert tonight.”
Lacey’s eyes went wide. Her shock was less for what Mr. Gold had said and more for his nonchalant tone. He was talking about sex in the same way he would talk about running errands.
“Do you understand me, Miss French?”
What about it did he think she didn’t understand? Then Lacey realized she hadn’t answered him. Mr. Gold expected an answer when he spoke to people.
“Yes, Mr. Gold,” she said. Shock had made her voice a little breathy. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Gold.”
He gave her a nod.
Dazed and excited, Lacey left his shop and made her way down the street to Modern Fashions. She had a red skirt to buy.
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Rosette Vitrail ☘️
(Black Clover OC Profile ☘️)
Rosette is one of my most important OCs I created for Black Clover and also one of my favorites. I'm really happy to share her with all of you 💕
☘️☘️☘️
Basic Information
Name: Rosette Vitrail
Age: currently 18
Birthday: 13th November
Sign: Scorpio
Love Interest: Solid Silva
Birthplace: Clover Kingdom's Capital, city villa of house Vitrail
Current Location: Clover Kingdom, Silva Palace
Affinity: Glass Magic
Likes: Detective Novels, Chocolate, the sound of rain against glass, any kind of art with glass, Gossip
Dislikes: Any kinds of diets (one of her biggest nightmares), Unfairness, Contradiction, Arrogance of nobles (especially from her own house), too colorful clothes
Grimoire Design: Black with colorful patterns that look like the rose stained glass windows of a cathedral. The clover is in the middle of it.
Appearance:
Hair Color: White blonde
Eye Color: very pale grey
Height: 158 cm
Due to her appearance, Rosette had a reputation of being unhealthy within Cloverian nobility (which isn't true, she is actually healthy as an ox): Very thin, not very big, extremely pale in skin, hair and eyes, not to mention fragile looking. So, she is mostly invisible in a way.
Rosette mostly wears dresses in any shades of grey (grey is her favorite color), sometimes just grey, sometimes added with some color (most of the time pink, purple, blue, turquoise and green, sometimes also red, yellow, orange and others when she feels bold). Most of her dresses have either an empire waist or a normal one. When she wears grey with another color, there is a ribbon of the same color around her waist.
Her hair is very straight and she usually let it fall free, often hold back by a ribbon (mostly a grey one). Rosette keeps her hair long, currently it falls right above the middle of the back.
Her fingers are long and elegant, but she still has the habit to nag her nails when she's thinking (and she thinks a lot).
Rosette is so pale that sometimes, people have the impression that sunlight can shine through her.
Personality:
Rosette is a very calm girl and also very observant (due to her childhood). Having spent a lot of times within noble circles of Clover, she became a secret force about gossip and to notice the smallest details. She has very much a detective mind (might be a bit the Hercule Poirot or the Jane Marple of the Clover Kingdom). While she has a romantic side, Rosette is pretty much pragmatic when it comes to herself.
Rosette is very aware about her reputation of not having a very good health and while it had hurt her when she was a child, growing up she decided to make it a mask and a strength instead. She embraced her invisibility, using it to listen to gossips. Over time, she started to have a lot of fun to be invisible and to push people without being noticed, but other times, before she came to live with the Silvas, she felt rather lonely and wish for someone to actually SEE her.
Unlike most nobles, Rosette doesn't look down on people from lower circles than her. At first, she really didn't have an opinion, but through her observations, she came to see commoners, peasants and even misfits as people and started to silently rebel against unfairness. She also doesn't consider training unfitting for a noble and trained her magic in secret for long. But she only started to train self-defense after she came to live with Silvas and interacting more with the Black Bulls.
Rosette is also pretty cheeky and insolent at times, not afraid to go into secret or forbidden archives if she wants to check upon something. Sometimes, when she is angry at a noble, she also likes to make some innocent prank (her invisible mask comes pretty in handy in those situations). After moving into the Silva Palace, when she isn't at noble circles, she is more opened and Vanessa teached her how to tease.
Rosette is also very stubborn when it comes to diets, convinced that they never work at all. Charmy loves her for that.
Despite everything, Rosette still has some affection for her family, but isn't blind that they won't change and accepted a long time ago that she can only love them from afar.
Background:
Rosette is from high nobility and from one of the most influential noble houses in Clover. House Vitrail mostly has members with glass magic. She is the second daughter of the head of house Vitrail, Verre Vitrail and his wife, lady Cristal. She has an older sister, Athénaïs. Rosette often lived in the shadow of her sister. In fact, Athénaïs is a true beauty, long golden locks and royal blue eyes, a porcelain skin, her frame is considered to be perfection. Athénaïs is also a typical noble, vain and arrogant and full of herself. But also intelligent and for a while, she was considered to be the perfect noble lady to marry into royalty... Especially Nozel Silva. Rosette still likes her sister, but is not blind to her flaws and consider that it's not to bad if they don't see each other often. Athénaïs, despite all her flaws, still has affection for her younger sister, but it is mostly a selfish affection, because caring for her poor unhealthy little sister is good for her own reputation (there is still genuine affection, though). Her parents have some affection for Rosette, but like normal noble parents, it's mostly vain and often, they don't even realize she's here.
Due to her so-called poor health, Rosette was very lonely as a child. When she wasn't going out on places for typical noble ladies - like circles, tea parties, promenades, soirées or balls - she either spent most of her time in her room or when she was able to sneak out alone, into the library or into some places not "fitting" for a noble girl. She read a lot during those times, learned some foreign languages by herself and also trained her magic. Fun fact, due to a coincidence, she managed to create colored glass. Curious about her discovery, she went (sneak) into libraries and archives to search about any clues about glass magic with stained glass. Sadly, she didn't found much, as stained glass isn't really a thing yet, even for glass magic users. So, she had to work on this without any clue.
Also due to her poor health, her mother swore on giving Rosette very special diet meals, even though she was already so thin. And this is the origin of Rosettes hatred towards diets. One time, she secretly eat A LOT of fattening food during one week... and still waits for those pounds to appear. In the end, Rosette came to the conclusion that she was maybe naturally thin.
Solid Silva:
Rosette and Solid had an arranged marriage. But how it came to that is a little novel. On Solids side, he was for some reason convinced that romantic love was stupid and he claimed that he wanted an arranged marriage, no objection accepted.
On Rosettes side, it was a bit more complicated. First, she came alone to the conclusion that to do something permanent against unfairness within the Clover Kingdom, you have to be a royal. For herself, this would mean that she had to marry into royalty. Like mentioned before, Rosette was very pragmatic when it comes to herself and even though she knew that arranged marriage aren't bond with happiness, she thought that with the right royal family, she might at least have some freedom. She choose the Silvas, for different reasons but also because she felt that there was something with them (not to mention in my headcanons, the current Silva Siblings are also the last Silvas) and Rosette is of course also curious.
Second, Rosette wanted to move away from her family and she wanted to have a real home. Yes, arranged marriages didn't imply getting a home, but Rosette thought that once married and away from house Vitrail, she might work to make her own home.
In a very subtle way, she casually told her father that marrying his second daughter into royalty wouldn't be so bad and her father even believed that he got this idea all by himself. Rosette had to go through some kind of hearing or interview in front of the three royal House Heads, so that they could determine if she was fit to be a royal. She did very well, as house Vitrail got a proposal for her to marry Solid the very next day. Rosette was also bold enough to suggest that she could already move into the Silva Palace, to learn properly to be a royal. This had been once an betrothal tradition that hadn't been applied for decades, but to Rosettes luck, hadn't been abolished either.
It took some time, but the Silvas as well as Vanessa, Asta and even Zora came to like her. Rosette started quickly to feel at home at the Silva Palace. As time passed, she was invited to spend time with the Black Bulls and came to appreciate them. They liked her too, especially Charmy. In fact, after seeing how thin Rosette was, Charmy became pretty worried and gave herself the mission to fattening "this poor bony milk glass" with the most delicious food. Which didn't work, as Rosette is naturally thin. But Rosette didn't complained. After so many years with tasteless and too healthy diet meals, Charmys food and any fat dishes in general were paradise for her.
As for Solid, he and Rosette didn't wait to talk about their betrothal and making things clear that this was an arranged marriage. She suggested to him that they should become partners and trust each other, since they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Solid accepted, surprised and deep down also grateful that for the first time, someone was ready to trust him and call him a partner. Under Rosettes patience, kind scolding and trust, while he was still a jerk, Solid matured and his redeeming traits started to be more visible. As for Rosette, being with Solid was refreshing to her, as for the first time, she didn't felt alone and he was actually SEEING her.
By getting along, they became close friends and slowly, very slowly, they started to fall in love. Once he realized it, Solid had a total panic attack. He actually run into Nozels office, screaming in fear: "Big brother, it's terrible! I fell in love with my fiancee!" As for Rosette, her biggest surprise was mostly, "Wait, I'm actually able to love without feeling regret and resignation?"
By the time they got married, Solid and Rosette already confessed to each other (a funny situation for her, awkward for him, sweet for both), so despite being arranged, it was a love wedding in the end.
Rosette and Solid aren't the most romantic couple. Rosette is still very pragmatic and Solid, well, is very unsure about being loving and romantic, not to mention still a jerk. But they got along very well and are still a team very often. A team with Rosette as the brain and Solid as the one taking action. Rosette also teases Solid a lot and is the only one unaffected by his jerk attitude. She kinda find this side of him a bit hot.
Trivia:
Rosettes name comes from the rose windows in cathedrals. It means also "little rose" in French.
Vitrail is the French word for stained-glassed window.
I started to imagine Rosette while I was reading the novels of Agatha Christie. This is why I kinda imagine her as the Hercule Poirot or Jane Marple of the Clover Kingdom.
Starts to talk in different languages at the same time when she's upset.
Yami gave her the nickname Ghost Girl, because she is so pale.
Isn't the best cook, but at least can make any kinds of cocoa, chocolate cream or mousse and even grilled cheese sandwiches by herself.
Is a very good dancer. Solid isn't, so when they have to dance, it is Rosette who leads.
Teaches Asta a lot of things about nobility, as she's convinced it will help him once he becomes the Wizard King.
Supports both Nozel and Asta for becoming Wizard King. She supports her new family.
Bonds with Zora about pranks, even though Rosette is nicer.
Bonds with Nebra about gossip.
Once she started to live with the Silvas, Rosette also started to train self-defense. She also has an incredible sense of balance, but only got to train it after she moved away from her family.
Is very irritated that Ki-reading didn't prevented Yami and Asta to be dense.
Helps sometimes Nozel with affairs of house Silva. Over time, he even trusted Rosette directly with some affairs. Since she isn't a Magic Knight, she has a lot of times.
Rosette is one of Charmys favorite people outside of the Black Bulls.
Vanessa started to teach her about needlework. They got along very well.
Became one of Noelles best friends.
Rosette learned about the Silva's past over time and she admired them that despite the mistakes and the past pain, they were able to heal, to make amends and to become a family again. Also helped Solid and Noelle to mend their bonds.
Rosette and Solid got two children together. A son named Eis and a daughter named Nanthilde.
#Black Clover#Black Clover OC#My Black Clover OC ☘️#Rosette Vitrail#Solid x Rosette#Sosette#First time creating an OC profile#Sorry that there is no pic but I sadly can't draw#And yep I gave Solid a love interest^^#Solid Silva
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@transingthoseformers I wrote a prelude
Prelude: A history of Maumee Lake Plain and its monsters
Since the founding of Detroit in 1701, rumors of monsters of all kinds have abounded. Stories of gigantic insects, too big to be of this world and regionally inappropriate, are almost as old as the city itself. As time marched on, and with no solid proof of their existence, these rumors faded until they were seen as nothing but spooky stories to keep kids inside at night. Little did people realize that these were more than mere stories.
November, 2057
“I can’t believe we have to come down into the sewers just to relax.”
“Hey, you don’t want my parents to see me smokin’ squares, eh?”
Two teenage boys hefted themselves into a large drainage pipe for the Detroit sewers. The taller one was skinny like a beanpole, with ragged red hair hidden under an equally ragged beanie. The smaller was dressed in a cobbled together outfit that had clearly been thrown on last minute.
“Man, I didn’t even wanna smoke, I wanted to go get a coney.”
“We’ll get your damn coney after I have a square.” The taller one snapped, fumbling for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “I swear, you need these man, or at the very least a joint.”
“Weed smells gross. I don’t like it.” The shorter boy grumbled, looking at the stained floor sheepishly.
“That’s what vape pens are for, dumbass.” The taller boy hissed, taking a drag from his cigarette. The smoke he exhaled gave the implication he might be a demon in another life. The two stood in silence for what felt like a long time, the sounds of late night Detroit filling the air and any room for conversation.
The shorter boy looked up, his brows furrowed. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“That sound. It sounds like jackhammers.”
The taller boy stomped out his cigarette in the stagnant water of the pipe, one final puff of smoke escaping. “Your hearing needs to be checked. There hasn’t been road work in this part of the city for years.”
“I’m not hearing things, it sounds like a jackhammer.” The shorter boy protested.
“I don’t hear anything, quit your-“ the taller boy started to snap, only to stop when he too heard it. It sounded like it was coming from just beyond their position in the tunnel.
After a few tense moments, the noise stopped. Just as the taller boy was about to continue snapping at the shorter one, a jarring crash, like a huge creature smashing through a concrete wall blasted through the drainage pipe mere feet away.
“What the hell is that?!” The taller boy shouted. As the dust settled, it seemed that the crash had just been the drainage pipe collapsing.
That was, until a large hand warped the dust and curled around the broken wall. Then another, on the same side. The creature that emerged from the hole was at least 20 feet tall, probably taller. It had two pairs of arms, an insectoid abdomen branching off its rear, a pair of bent antennae and a set of mandibles caging its mouth, but otherwise looked like a giant woman. The back of its head sported what looked like an ant head, and it’s black and brown coloring made it near indistinguishable from the dim background if not for the purple glow of its eyes cascading down like spotlights on the two boys.
It said nothing, and the boys said nothing back. After what felt like hours of staring, the smaller boy took a picture with his phone, the flash illuminating the entire creature for a brief second. The creature roared, a mix of a woman’s guttural scream and a hissing teapot.
The boys fled in screaming terror, but the creature didn’t pursue them. Instead, it made a chittering sound not unlike snickering.
“Glad to see humans haven’t changed after all these years.” she said, mostly to herself.
“Lasius, what did you find?” Another female voice asked, a similar ant like creature emerged, slightly shorter and red in coloration, but otherwise the same.
“A tunnel?” A smaller voice asked. The owner of the voice peeked over the debris. It was significantly smaller and didn’t carry any specific insect traits, aside from having four arms and a set of antennae.
“No little one. This is too perfect to be a natural tunnel. Invicta, you’re not gonna believe this. I think we made it into the human city.” Lasius said, stepping over the debris and into the drainage pipe itself.
“It took us this long?” The smaller voice asked.
“We’ve been expanding south this whole time, of course we didn’t find an entrance into the city that way.” Invicta said.
Lasius stepped to the edge of the drainage pipe, bracing herself on the rim. “Things have changed significantly since our last encounter with humans. We should report this to the queen and requisition a scouting team.”
“Do you think they’ve developed arms to hurt us yet?” Invicta asked, pulling the smaller creature close.
“It’s hard to say. Humankind has always been skiddish, so if they have the means, they’ll certainly use them. For the colony’s safety, we should close up the tunnel until we can secure it.” Lasius said. “Get the rest of the team, and maybe call a team of wasps to help for good measure. Return Xyloni to the Dome.”
“What?! But we’re just getting interesting!” Xyloni protested, being escorted by Invicta back down the tunnel. Lasius followed after a few more moments of observation.
“Xyloni, this is a matter of not only your safety, but the colony’s safety. When we offered to take you into the mines to observe what ants do, we did not anticipate to find an entrance to a human settlement. This is an extraneous circumstance.” Invicta said. As Lasius pulled what rubble she could back over the entrance, tension hung in the air.
#transformers#insecticon queen AU#if anyone has a title for this story pitch it to me because I’m STRUGGLING to start this story
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Feels like Being Hit by a Train
Ao3
Engineer's Post Spirit Tracks
-Link had been injured in the train crash just before fighting Malladus. Now that the battle's done, she's starting to really feel how bad that all was.
Warnings: angsty, hurt/comfort, injury leading to disability, crush-stage zelink (that might be slightly 2nd hand embarrassment inducing at a moment or two), forced-medication/potion drinking(?) (lemme know if there's anything else to tag)
____
Link clutched Zelda’s hand tightly as the Lokomo spirits vanished into the heavens. She was starting to feel lightheaded after all this. She barely had room in her mind to think anything beyond keeping ahold of Zelda.
“...We should go home,” Zelda said after a while.
Link let out a vague hum, not moving. She wasn’t sure she could manage another step. The adrenaline was leaving her system and she was entirely drained. Zelda looked at her, brows furrowing “Link?”
She swallowed around the cottony feeling in her mouth. She knew she at least attempted to say “I think I need to lay down.” But she wasn’t sure it ever came out properly. Instead, the world spun.
“Link!” Zelda yelled. She was holding both of her hands now. The ground was solid against her back, and now everything burned. But Zelda was there and her hands were warm and real, that was good. “Oh-Oh no. HEY. Stay with me okay?” She slapped her cheek. Link yelped, eyes opening wide. When did she close them? Zelda sighed, “Er-where- where do you keep your potions?”
Her hands awkwardly hovered over her and she frowned. She hadn’t noticed this whole adventure? She fumbled to reach her pouch and Zelda practically pounced on it. She made a sharp cry at the sudden intrusion of her space. Zelda shushed her, gentle but sharp regardless.
“Sorry! Okay! I’m just-”
One of her hands rested over her jaw, a thumb brushing her lip. The increasingly loopy part of her brain thought “This would be a weird time for my first kiss.”
Zelda’s bug-eyed expression potentially implied she’d somehow said some of that out loud. “Just drink the stupid potion!” She poured the liquid down her throat and she coughed as it went in regardless of her wishes.
She wheezed and turned on her side, coughing.
“AH! Sorry! Sorry!” Zelda yelped in panic.
Link whined, then lifted a thumbs up.
Zelda socked her in the shoulder. “You scared me!”
“Sorry” She croaked. It still hurt. She fumbled and tugged up the tunic, struggling to free it up from under the belt.
“What are you DOING?” Zelda gasped, covering her eyes.
Link pulled the tunic up and struggled to lean over herself to take a proper look at her torso. Purple was blooming under her ribs. Her brows furrowed.
Zelda peaked at her and her hands shifted to cover her mouth instead. “That- that’s not from Maladus, is it?”
Link blinked and shook her head, “Train crash…”
“You were fighting Maladus with THIS?” Zelda’s fingers gingerly reached to poke at the bruise forming. Link winced. She shrugged. “So the potion only cleared up the surface injuries.” Zelda nearly growled, scowling at her, “You should’ve taken it earlier.” She stood up, crossing her arms, “Now I have to carry you.”
“I can-” Link mumbled, sitting up. Her body seized under her and she fell back. Her eyes went wide. She swallowed “Zelda…”
She looked at her sympathetically.
Her eyes flickered over her face, “Carefully?” She tugged her tunic back down. “I- I don’t know what’s wrong.”
--
"You should have seen your old grandpa when he'd been shot from our cannon," Niko chuckled, "He looked so sour when Miss Tetra stuffed him in there."
Link and Zelda were sound asleep next to each other. His sleepy face was tilted towards a flurry of blond curls. Zelda rested her head against Link’s chest. Her cascade of hair rippled over the pillow. Her fingers loosely intertwined with his. The pair of children seemed peaceful, but exhausted.
Telling stories while Link slept wasn't an uncommon event, so it really only felt right to do it on purpose for once. Although, for some reason it felt distinctly quiet and uneasy this time. Looking at the injured boy, sound asleep.
The door creaked open. Old Man Niko lifted his head, eyes widening. Alfonzo placed a hand on his sword- only to release it. Ol' Link's daughter and her husband walked through the door quietly, focused with themselves, clearly assuming the house was asleep.
"A little party is entirely appropriate," she whispered as she entered the door walking backward, "We missed the ceremony, the least we can do is-"
"Link always hated those kinds of things," the kid's father said, walking after her, "I think we should take him for a day around a museum or-"
"Oh lovely, you're home!" Niko cheered.
Alfonzo nodded to them.
The pair looked up. "Oh! You're up," little Link's father said, startled.
Link's mother smiled, "You keeping Alfonzo up late with your stories, Old Man?" She hugged Niko, "You wouldn't believe the freak storm we encountered on the way back, we had to dock at Dragon's Roost for an extra week-" she cut herself off from her sailing story, eyes settling past Niko at her child's bed. She stared for a moment.
Link looked battered and bruised, purple blooming under his eye. But what was likely most noticeable was the cast over his leg and a rigid brace over his midsection.
Alfonzo hummed lowly, "They went on something of an adventure…"
Link's mother covered her mouth, hiccupping her breaths, "He… his-"
"He fell out of a train...and fought a demon right after" Niko said, "they… want to try and get everything set properly before they give him another healing potion after the one he took himself. To make sure it doesn't heal over in the wrong position."
"A demon?" Her father asked, bewildered.
"He was called Malladus, and had attempted to possess the Princess's body. These two," Niko gestured to the Princess and the boy, "fought him and destroyed him. Saved the day!"
"I don't understand- he- he was just supposed to just get an engineer's- I-" his mother sobbed. Slowly, carefully, she walked over. She knelt at his bedside. Her shaky hand carding through her child's hair.
"Do the healers know if everything will… set right?" His father said softly, gentle and quiet.
"They can't be sure. He…" Niko rubbed his eyes, shaking his head.
Alfonzo sighed softly, putting a hand on Niko's shoulder, "He ran on it for some time, they suspect nerve damage… It might never properly heal even if it does set straight."
The princess stirred, lifting her head as she glanced over the adults in the room, "Who-" she blinked away sleep from her eyes, sitting up gently. "Oh… you must be Link's parents."
The pair nodded.
"I hear you had an adventure with our kiddo," his father chuckled lightly, "It's an honor to meet you Princess."
"Ah. Yes… You as well" Zelda looked down at Link, brows knit in concern, “Link speaks highly of you,” she said.
“Oh, glad to hear” Link's father laughed lightly. His eyes shone in the dim light.
The princess bowed her head, "I'm- I'm sorry. It's all my fault- he was only ever helping me and I- he would've never been hurt if-"
"Zelda," Alfonzo said softly, "None of it's your fault."
"I just feel so-"
"I'm sure he was happy to help," his mother said with a sniffle, "He's always been eager to help."
Zelda closed her eyes and let out a slow breath, "I know… I- I just wish I could help him in turn. I almost miss being a suit of armor," Zelda giggled, rubbing her face, "I tried- I tried to protect him as much as he did me-"
His mother took the Princess's hand gently, "I'm glad to know he had you."
Zelda smiled softly and nodded once.
Link whined a little, face scrunching up, "Wh's going onnnn?"
"Link! Your parents are here!" Zelda announced, leaning back down to look at his face.
Link opened his eyes slowly. Then gasped, eyes widening further at Zelda's closeness. Face warming. Beside him, his mother chuckled as she brushed her hand against his cheek.
"Oh," Link tilted his head to look at his parents. He smiled. "You're back safe!"
"Oh, honey," his mother laughed softly, "yes, yes we are."
"How are you feeling?" his father asked.
Link smiled, nervous and lopsided, "Like I was hit by a train?"
His mother snickered and shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes again. She leaned her head against Link's, forehead to forehead. "I love you."
"I love you too," Link whispered, closing his eyes again.
His father leaned in to hug them both, "I'm so sorry we weren't here-"
Link hummed and shrugged lightly. "It's okay."
“It’s not okay honey, we’re your parents we’re supposed to be here to protect you-” his mother said, shifting so she could cradle Link's head against her chest. Her son pliant and willing to snuggle in.
“I’m- I’m old enough to protect myself,” Link said softly, “I knew what I was doing…” he sighed, looking around the room, “I don’t want any of you blaming yourselves.”
“You got hurt pretty badly, Link,” his father whispered softly.
“I’m sorry- but… I knew what I was doing,” he reaffirmed, “I knew if I kept going on with my injuries I’d make it worse. But, I did it because I knew Zelda needed help,” his brows furrowed. “New Hyrule needed us.” He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
His father sighed, “...My brave boy.” Link giggled a little in response.
Zelda leaned down and shifted back into the hug. "You could've at least said something," Zelda mumbled.
Link groaned and buried his face more into his mother. Weakly, he swatted a hand blindly at Zelda. She avoided it with a laugh.
"Hey, I'm not a ghost anymore! You can't do that when you're annoyed now, I'm the Princess, you'll get arrested."
"Ok. Arrest me," Link murmured against his mother's shirt. Zelda huffed hotly. After a short beat of quiet, the pair of children giggled, amused with themselves.
His mother shook her head, kissing the top of Link's hair. "You two seem close."
"Yeah," Link said softly.
"Wh-what? Just 'yeah'?" Zelda shook her head, briefly lifting a hand to her cheek, gaze shifting almost nervously. She shook her head, "We're friends now. Perhaps best friends! Yes. I like that. Best friends. He's been especially kind and not nearly as awkward as he was at first. I greatly appreciate his friendship."
Link smiled, feeling a blush rise.
"Aw, Link's always been shy, glad you've gotten over that hurdle," his father said.
Link grumbled "Am not…"
"So you just stared nervously at the guards without a word because that's how you imagined recruits did things?" Zelda teased.
"Oh that was all your fault. I don't know how to 'small talk'. I still don't understand what makes talk small."
The princess leaned up slightly, brows furrowed. Link's mother laughed lightly, "Don't try to explain it, Princess, I've tried for years. He knows the definition, just not the application."
Link sighed dramatically. Then took in a sharp hiss of a breath, hand going to his chest.
"Link? Are you okay?" His mother asked, hands flitting to assess him.
"I dunno- I just… breathed too hard, I guess." He closed his eyes, frowning.
"Maybe you should go back to sleep," Niko piped up. "It's been a long day."
Link nodded "I like sleep."
"Too much." Niko laughed. "But it'll be good for ya. For you all, actually."
The boy's parents sighed.
"Sounds like a good idea," his father said. "We'll unload the ship tomorrow."
"I'll be going, then." Zelda said with a heavy sigh.
Link whined a little, "Wha? Really?"
"I don't wish to intrude-" Zelda said, glancing around the small home, "Besides I should take the train back to the castle soon, everyone will worry-"
"Don't worry about it, Princess," Alfonzo said, "I told everyone I'd be here for you when we left."
"You're very welcome to stay here," Link's mother said with a nod, "It's late regardless."
Link's hand quietly found Zelda's. She glanced down at him. His eyes peacefully closed, his hand giving hers a squeeze. Zelda sighed, "Alright. Thank you for your hospitality."
"You're Aunt Tetra's granddaughter. My home is yours." Link's mother winked. Zelda laughed lightly. "Now, scoot over, I'm sleeping here."
Link whined "Moooom why?"
"Because I love you, and you can't escape your mother's love" She scooped her arms under Link's knees and upper back and carefully shifted him over so there was enough room for them all. He made a small pained noise of protest. Zelda was quickly snuggling into her place, squeezing his hand again. He relaxed easily.
His mother crawled into the bed, careful of her use of space. She curled, protectively, around her child.
Link's father smiled softly, "Good Night."
"Oh, does anyone want a bedtime story?" Niko exclaimed softly with a grin.
"Old Man, you need to sleep too, git" Link's mother huffed.
Niko chuckled. Quickly enough, the lights were snuffed, and the house was asleep. Soft and warm.
#ls engineer#ls phantom#linked spirit#loz au#legend of zelda#loz#angst#hurt/comfort#tw major character injury#ls writing#fanfic
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Your thoughts on the phantom thief’s costumes?
oh this should be fun!! i included akechi and sumire also because i love talking so the more the better
joker: solid 9/10. easy to remember and draw which i appreciate. not a lot of color variation except for the red gloves, which i actually like ON HIM but i generally dislike the bright primary colored gloves as a common motif among all the thieves because i think it hinders most of their designs, with joker being the one exception.
ryuji: 8/10. harder to remember than joker's but i also don't draw him that much. again not much color variation but like. they're thieves. that's normal and makes sense. i love the metal spinal cord detailing on the back of his jacket!! my only real problem with it is the yellow gloves and red scarf. i think if the gloves HAD to be yellow then the scarf should have also been yellow to match, because since they're so similar in terms of saturation they end up fighting for attention.
ann: 0/10 god i hate this outfit. i literally cant stand it it's so god awful. the fact that they put a 16 year old girl in a skintight cat bodysuit with a boob window is one thing but like. they couldnt even make it look good. the pink gloves clash with the monotone red of the rest of the outfit. the boots are ugly and don't match the aesthetic of the catsuit. the zippers on the suit are clearly meant to add visual interest but just look stupid and impractical. NOT TO MENTION she breaks the theme of a primarily black outfit that (most of) the rest of them have going despite her codename being panther, a BLACK CAT??? why is it red. if i could kill the designers of this outift i would
yusuke: 6/10. would be infinitely better if it was a shirt and pants instead of a bodysuit. also the giant sleeves look stupid as hell <3 once again the bright blue gloves suck ass but at least they're SLIGHTLY brought in to the rest of the design with the blue stripes on the belt. honestly i think it would be better if they just ditched the gloves and made the belt stripes red to keep with the kitsune mask aesthetic but whatever. it could be way worse ig
makoto: 8/10. her mask is ugly let's get that out of the way first. sorry queen its the truth </3 aside from that i think she's got one of the better designs of the thieves. very cohesive aesthetic and it's almost exclusively black but doesn't lose detail (the silver metal accents help with this and are a very nice touch!) she's one of the few that doesn't suffer from the glove problem because her gloves are gray but if it were me i might have made them black. overall solid design
futaba: 7/10. one of the more practical designs which i think is cool! she's got arm and kneepads and pockets on her thighs which i think is very on-brand for a support character like her. she also keeps some aspects of her real-world fashion sense like her legwarmers and big platform shoes which is cool!! her color palette could be a liiiiitle bit more cohesive, she's got both gold and silver metal accents which throws me off a bit and the red of her goggle lenses ends up looking somewhat out of place with the rest of her green accents. she doesn't suffer from the glove problem though despite her gloves being bright neon green, i think because that same green is used just enough in other parts of her design that the gloves blend in more as an accent color.
haru: 10/10. my favorite design in the game BY FAR. she's got such a cool and cohesive aesthetic going. the pink accents are noticeable but don't overpower the black enough to make her look out of place with the other thieves, and the frilliness and puffiness of it also reminds me of her real-world fashion sense! she unfortunately is probably the biggest victim of the glove problem. the purple gloves absolutely destroy an otherwise beautiful color scheme and distract from all the beautiful details of her outfit because they just look SO out of place. i don't hate them enough to dock her points but if they were just. black. or pink even. then she would be completely perfect
pre-reveal akechi: 10/10. ok i laughed out loud when i first saw this because it looks fucking stupid and i recognize that objectively it looks fucking stupid. but from both a design and lore standpoint its. good. it is genuinely very good. it's got a cohesive color scheme and aesthetic which visually places him opposite joker--he is white with red and gold accents in direct contrast to joker's black with red and silver accents. certain aspects of his design seem to deliberately parallel joker's--the v-shaped buttons on his coat are an obvious imitation of the v-shaped accents on joker's waistcoat, the cuffs on his sleeves look just like joker's, the v-cut of his cape is reminiscent of the slit in the back of joker's coat, etc etc. even his gloves (which have to be spotlighted because ive done it for everyone else) are a parallel to joker's--white against red cuffs as opposed to red against black cuffs. from a design standpoint everything about this design is SCREAMING at you that akechi is a direct parallel of joker, and it's done very well imo. from a lore standpoint i can't help but wonder if he made these decisions deliberately, as some sort of challenge to joker or something, since he's the only character who mentions putting actual thought into their outfit.
post-reveal akechi: 3/10. i don't want to be mean but this was a huge downgrade. it's got some good things going for it--the mask is cool, and definitely better than the ugly shit he was wearing before, and the way certain aspects become almost corrupted, like the cape and belt, is a cool touch. however i think a lot of what i praised his pre-reveal design for made things difficult for the designers of this outfit. so much of white knight akechi seems deliberately designed to mirror joker, to be the white to joker's black. so when the designers had to do a dark version of akechi, they ended up backed into a corner, because simply turning akechi's old design black would leave him looking far too similar to joker, who, crucially, he is rejecting completely in order to attain this form in the first place. what the designers settled on was an evil candycane, which. well. i think we could maybe have done a little better. i think leaning into the prince thing might have helped--going from a prince of justice to a prince of darkness, keeping that aesthetic but twisting it into something more disney-villain-esque. at the very least he needs to not be wearing a striped bodysuit. please. im sympathetic to the problems the designers must have faced with this one but im SURE there's a solution that isn't a skintight purple monstrosity.
sumire: 5/10. sigh. this one is hard for me. because if i look at it objectively i think that her design is GOOD. like it's cohesive, it's pretty, the elements fit together, etc etc. but i can't get past the fact that they just straight up made her female joker. like the poor girl can't even get her own outfit. i know she's the love interest but COME ON can we give her a little more agency here PLEASE. the leotard is the only thing that feels definitively like HER because gymnastics and everything else just kind of feels like a genderbent joker cosplay to me. for every other character in this game their thief costume's aesthetic can be related somehow back to them as a character--their motivations, their innermost desires, their personality, SOMETHING. sumire just. gets none of that. she gets to be Joker's Girlfriend. and yeah maybe you could make the case that she like doesn't know who she is or whatever and that's why she defaults to him but it still feels CHEAP. she doesn't even get her own glove color. EVERY OTHER CHARACTER IN THE GAME has a uniquely ugly glove color except sumire who has to share with joker because she is his girlfriend. ugh
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Danganronpa: The Ultimate Student - Chapter 1 - Meeting the Ultimate Students of Hope's Peak Academy
Location: Hope's Peak Academy
Day: 01
Time: 8:00 AM
Y/n's POV
After I had a long, peaceful slumber, I woke up with my head resting on top of a hard wooden desk. My body feels...heavy. It's pretty normal for me to zonk off in the middle of some boring class or whatever, but... What was I doing asleep here just now? This isn't a classroom I've ever been in before. Unless....Creation must've heard my call and granted my wish and I'm inside a classroom at Hope's Peak Academy and it looks like there's security cameras and thick metal plates on the windows.
Y/n: What the heck is going on...? Is this real or a just a dream.
It's a dangerous world they live in. I guess they have these to keep weirdos from just wandering in or anyone inside from escaping. In any normal classroom, that's where a window should be, but it looks like some kind of metal plate has been bolted over it and if I were to knock on it...
Bang! Bang!
Y/n: Yup. Definitely metal. Thick, too. Very solid.
Wait, that's not what matters here. More importantly, I was sent to this universe by Creation after I wished to be in Danganronpa and now I woke up in one of the classrooms here. I was asleep in my own bed before when I got here.
I may still know who I am, but for some reason I have no memory of my past life. However, I still have my knowledge of the Danganronpa franchise, so I might as well use it if I'm gonna survive in this school without getting murdered in cold blood. That just raises more questions in this school. This is all really strange. I mean, those metal plates covering the windows... It's like it's this school became a prison or something. None of this makes any sense...well, most people who might not know a lot about Danganronpa or any anime series that is similar to where I am at right now.
I know that the school "is" funded by the national government, so I guess it's not that weird to have TVs in here... But something feels...off as I spotted a pamphlet in on one of the desks and I went over to grab it to read it.
Y/n: An orientation guide...? It's some kind of cheap-looking pamphlet. And there's something handwritten on it. Could it have been written by...
It reads, "Welcome to Hope's Peak Academy. A new semester has just begun. Since yer starting new lives here, this school will be yer new world. Gather in the gym at 8 AM sharp for the welcoming ceremony.
Y/n: Yep. This is definitely written by Monokuma alright. I wonder there is a clock in this room, so I can see what time it is to get to the gym on time. (Looks around until I look up to see a clock that reads, "8 o'clock") Oh shit! I'm late, I better get to the gym right now before I miss the welcoming ceremony! I should probably head back to the main hall. The other students might be there right now. So, let's go see what the hallway looks like.
I went out of the classroom to find myself at the hallway and this place is illuminated in a purple light.
Y/n: Jeez... This hallway is kind of weird, too. Just like the anime I watched. Well, for now I'll just head to the main hall and get to the gym before the Welcoming Ceremony starts.
I ran down the main hall as fast as I can until I made it to the door that is labeled, "Gym" and pulled open the door to find...all 15 of the students from the game! I can't believe this is actually happening. I'm actually meeting the original characters from the first game.
They all looked at me in surprise after I opened the doors to the gym, so that makes me the sixteenth student here at this school. I better not get too excited because I know which of the students are the murders after I watched the anime and played the game, but there could be chance that there might be a different murder and killer instead of the original ones from both the anime and video game. So, I better keep an eye out if that ever happens.
???: Whoa, hey! Another new kid?
Y/n: Uh, hello?
???: Ah, cool. So, counting him, that makes sixteen of us. For what? Can not predict now.
I recognize him. He's known as Yasuhiro Hagakure, The Ultimate Fortune Teller. He's a really good of telling people's fortunes with the power of his trusty crystal ball that he carries around.
Y/n: Um...how's it going? My name's Y/n L/n. Sorry I'm late. A bunch of stuff happened, and then all of a sudden, I was just...asleep in one of the classrooms.
Naegi: That happened to me as well.
That's Makoto Naegi, the main protagonist of the first Danganronpa game and the animation. He was portrayed as the Ultimate Lucky Student, but at the end of the animation and game, he's now known as the Ultimate Student of Hope. I guess we both had the same problem, the moment we ended up at this school.
Hiro: Whoa, you too?
Celeste: Things just keep getting curiouser and curiouser...
Hifumi: So... that's everyone right? So strange... I declare beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is a strange situation indeed! But maybe now, we can get some answers.
That large overweight guy is Hifumi Yamada aka the Ultimate Fanzine Artist. He may be a bit weird (mostly towards women like Celeste and Ayo) and act like this world is some sort of fantasy game, but he's ok in my book.
Y/n: Um...what are you talking about? I honestly have no idea what's going on right now.
I didn't want to let them know that I'm really from another world, but I'm just gonna play along for a while until they all decide to trust me and explain myself.
Taka: AHA! (Points at Y/n) Y/n! Your tardiness is unacceptable! Instructions said, 8 o'clock sharp. To be late on your first day is unspeakable! I must report you, and you must accept your due punishment!
That hot-headed guy that just pointed at me for my tardiness is the Ultimate Hall Monitor, better known as Miyotaka Ishimaru, or Taka for short. He takes the role, Hall Monitor very seriously and doesn't tolerate other students being late on the first day at school. He's the perfect example of a teacher's pet.
Taka: You have no excuse for your tardiness!
Junko: What's your problem? It's not like he "wanted" to be late. He didn't have any control over it. Could you just not blame him for just being late. I mean, who gives a flip about being on time? Nobody knows about why we're here.
In case you may or may not know, that's not really the real Junko Hiroshima. She's actually Mukuro Ikusaba aka the Ultimate Soldier and she's dressed up as Junko while the real one is pulling the strings to this game inside this entire school, we're trapped in. Junko Hiroshima is known to be the Ultimate Fashion Diva and I gotta be honest with all of you guys reading this right now, that she's nuttier than a squirrel's lunchbox and not in a good way.
Hiro: Excuse me? Did you happened to remember what happened before you woke up in a classroom.
Y/n: I did...but I have no idea how that happened to me and how I ended up in one of the classrooms.
Hiro: I thought so. That's exactly what happened to us.
That's Chihiro Fujisaki aka the Ultimate Programmer, she's technically a femboy and she's a master in computer programming as she is also the creator of Alter-Ego that helped out the students with hacking into the school's servers until Monokuma confiscated it from them before they all had a chance to escape.
Celeste: Sudden unconsciousness. Only to converge into the gym upon awakening. Fabulously peculiar. Though I didn't expect such a handsome looking student to appear at this school at the last minute before the ceremony. Very interesting.
That gothic princess that just flirted with me is Celestia Ludenberg aka the Ultimate Gambler, a royal princess with the knowledge of a real professional gambler, she was the first student in the series to do a double kill and she can really make your life a living nightmare if you get on her bad side. Better stay away from her to avoid being her next target.
Mondo: Yeah, that's the word. (Groans) Reminds me of the digs, we have back at juvie.
That's the Ultimate Biker and the most feared gang leader that ever lived, Mondo Ohwada. He's a real brute when it comes to situations like this, especially when he's in a real bad mood. My best bet is to not get under his skin or else I might end up in a hospital bed under life support.
Leon: Yeah, except this time, we got kidnapped. Hey, maybe they might auction off our organs. Ha!
Leon Kuwata aka the Ultimate Baseball Player was the first murderer in this school, and he can throw a mean fast ball and hit an easy home run when it comes to a game of baseball. I bet he goes to a lot of parties after hitting a lot home runs with that kind of talent.
Aoi: Think positive! It's a motivational program! This is supposed to be a special school, right?
Y/n: Yeah, I think so if we're all here to begin with.
That woman with the happy-go-lucky pep talk like a very supportive cheerleader is Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimmer. She seems very excited for this event, but I know it won't last long once the games of despair will begin when the Welcoming Ceremony.
Sakura: It's difficult to say. I suggest we first, assess our situation.
Y/n: Ok then...
That amazon woman with a very serious attitude is known as Sakura Ohgami aka the Ultimate Grappler, she's a tough woman with the heart of a warrior. She may be a strong woman, but not even her powerful strength can break through these thick metal doors and windows. This place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox and Alcatraz combined.
Man, I never thought I would meet these students here at Hope's Peak Academy, but let's hope that we do what Sakura says and try to figure out what to do in this situation after the Ceremony. Then I looked to see a timid female student with purple hair that I recognized until she looked at me and freaked out after I looked at her with my own two eyes.
Toko: Aah! The new kid is undressing me with his eyes.
Her name's Toko Fukawa aka the Ultimate Literary Girl, she may look freaked out at first, but she has a spilt personality that involves a mysterious scissor wielding serial killer known as Homicidal Jack. I respect her and her homicidal side of herself since I can play as her in the spin-off game known as Danganronpa: Despair Girls and she is really dangerous with those sharp scissors of hers. Better keep an eye out for her in case Toko switched places with Homicidal Jack because I do not want to get cut to death by her cause she only targets boys, not girls.
Toko: (Growls) Bet he thinks I'm a troll.
Y/n: Not really. I didn't mean to look at you like that. Sorry.
Byakuya: He's certainly not all that.
I know that cold look and snobbish attitude like that anywhere. He's Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Heir and he's known to be a pain in the neck when it comes to situations like this and he's one of my least favorite characters in the Danganronpa series as he is not a really good kind of friend to hang out with, but at least he's willing to help out whatever he can when there's a dead body sighted at school grounds.
Byakuya: Why not take a picture to make it last longer.
Y/n: I would if I want to, but I believe my phone has gone missing.
Byakuya: Hmph. Whatever.
I decided to look away from him to avoid getting him annoyed by my presence until I spotted someone in the background trying to figure out what's going on here at this school. It was none other than The Ultimate Detective herself, Kyoko Kirigiri, who is clearly trying to investigate the mystery behind Hope's Peak Academy.
Kyoko: Yes? Can I help you?
Y/n: Huh? Oh! No, I'm good.
???: Excuse me, but you're the new student here named Y/n, right? My name is Sayaka Maizono. It's nice to meet you.
I looked to see who was speaking to me and it was a young girl with long, blue hair named Sayaka Maizono aka the Ultimate Idol. She's a friend of Naegi since they both went to the same middle school together and she has a beautiful singing voice, which lead to her career as a popular singer. She's very kind and welcoming and I never thought she would introduce herself to me.
Y/n: Nice to meet you, Miazono. You're friends with Naegi, right?
Sayaka: Of course, and what a relief, someone I know is in this school.
Naegi: Wait, you actually remember me?
Sayaka: (Giggles) Well, I course I do, silly. After all, we did go to the same school for three years.
Y/n: Wow. That's neat.
Naegi: Oh, believe me, I know. It's just that you're so popular and I was more or less of the exact opposite.
Y/n: I wouldn't say that. You're just "lucky" enough to meet someone that you knew from middle school.
Naegi: Yeah, I guess you're right about that.
Sayaka: Ah, I knew it. I came out a trouble snob!
Naegi: What?! No, Hold up! That came out wrong!
Sayaka: (Giggles) Just teasing.
Naegi: Uh, fine. I take that back.
Sayaka: (Giggles)
Ah, young love. These two look like the perfect couple, don't they? I bet they might get married and have kids on their own, if they didn't get involved in this mess and Sayaka didn't get murdered in this school.
Byakuya: If you two are quite done flirting, we can move on into more important matters.
Y/n: Such as?
Byakuya: (Scoffs) Such as our current problem here at this school. Someone has collected us here for a reason.
Toko: (Freaks out) We're all essentially prisoners.
Junko: You think the least they can do is to give me back my cell phone. It's like totally barbaric.
Y/n: Oh please, they obviously took our phones just so we can't contact anyone that will come to rescue us. They might have cut off all of our communications to the outside world. That's why I don't have my cell phone with me the moment I arrived here.
Then suddenly, everyone started checking their pockets to find their phones, but they appear to be missing as well.
Sakura: He's right. My phone is missing is well. Does this mean they've been confiscated?
Yasuhiro: Yeah, no. There's no way. The new kid is very clever, but I think they'll give back our stuff once the Orientation is over. I'm sure of it. (Pulls out his crystal ball) In fact, it's already been foretold.
Y/n: Whoa. Nice crystal ball you got there.
Yasuhiro: Thanks, Y/n. I can't always tell any people fortunes without it.
Leon: Dude please, a crystal ball?
Yasuhiro: I'm dead on, 30% of the time.
Toko: (Scoffs) Isn't that impressive.
I was about to protest Toko until a loud sound of speakers turning on that is hurting our ears, meaning that the Welcoming Ceremony is about to begin, and we all know that means. It means, that Monokuma is about to make an entrance and introduce himself to the students of Hope's Peak Academy.
???: TESTING! MIC TEST! MIC TEST! ONE, TWO! EVERYBODY HEAR ME ON THIS THING? (CLEARS THROAT) HIYA KIDDOS! TIME TO ROLL OUT THE WELCOME WAGON! NOT LITERALLY OF COURSE, NOT EVEN SURE WHAT THAT MEANS, LITERALLY, BUT YOU GET IT!
Yasuhiro: See? We're not prisoners. This is how they do things here at Hope's Peak.
Nope. That's not right. This is definitely not how they do this kind of stuff at Hope's Peak or any school for that matter.
Kyoko: Well, you're half right.
Y/n: Well, we'll just to find out for ourselves.
With everyone including myself in the gym, ready for the Welcoming Ceremony, we all face the stage to see Monokuma appear from behind the podium, surprising most of the students and I knew that he would finally arrive here eventually to introduce himself.
Monokuma: I know what you're all thinking and no I'm not a high-tech build-a-bear reject! I am the principal of this special institution, Monokuma! Please to meet ya.
Just like in the anime. God! I love that bear so much, I could just run up there and give him a hug, but I don't want to get killed by him and whatever he has up his sleeve since one of his rules is that no one should try to attack the principal in any way, or you'll get killed. Then I saw Hifumi freaking out when he saw Monokuma because he saw this kind of moment before in a dream once.
Hifumi: (Screams) I had a nightmare just like this one!
Monokuma: Young man, some respect of you please. Mono-Kuma, your principal.
This may be weird, but he does need to be respected since he is the principal of this school, and we have to follow his rules if we want to get out of this place...alive!
Monokuma: Yes, yes! Like nothing you ever seen before! Uncanny and unsettling even! Yada-Yada! Movin' right along! Now all of you stand and attention! Give your principal, your snappiest good morning!
Taka/Y/n: (Bows Down) Good morning, Principal, sir!
Me and Taka bowed down to him, but that just make Toko freak out after we both just did that to encourage it.
Toko: Please, don't encourage it!
Y/n: (Whispering) We have to do it if we don't want to get killed.
Monokuma: Eh, that will have to do I suppose. Anyway, welcome you bright young students to your new living quarters! Now before you freak out, rest assured, this is for your own good. Must not let that outside world dull that dazzling inner spark. We must keep that freshness sealed in.
Y/n: Hold on, we-
Then the Junko doppelganger went up behind me and interrupted me with her disagreeing with whatever Monokuma is planning for us.
Junko: I don't think so!
Monokuma: So now you're wondering how long your stay will be our guest of our program. Approximately...the rest of your lives! (Everyone, but Y/n Gasped) Oh yeah, by new living quarters, I mean, permanent living quarters~
Leon: You...You can't be serious?!
Hiro: We'll be here...forever?
Monokuma: Ah, don't fret. We have an astronomical budget. Your needs will be satisfied in no time.
Sayaka: That's not the issue. We have families!
Junko: No! Just No!
Y/n: (Leans Over Fake Junko) Excuse me? I hate to interrupt, but is that why the metal plates and doors, blocking the windows and every exit at this school is keeping us in here and preventing us from escaping into the outside world?
Monokuma: Bingo! You're here for keepsies! (Realizes something) Wait a minute! Who are you and how did you managed to get inside this school!
Uh oh! Looks like Monokuma doesn't see me as a student here. I better think of something to convince him that I'm an extra student here at this school.
Y/n: Uh....I'm the sixteenth student here, Principal Monokuma. I was the last one that came in here. I woke up in one of your classrooms at the main hall, sir!
Monokuma: Are you sure about that, bucko?! I never seen you here before! Are you a spy or something just to expose me as some sort of criminal?!
Y/n: No! I'm telling the truth here. You can check the security cameras to know that I'm not lying cause there was one in the room I woke up in!
Monokuma then looked at me in the eye to know if I was telling the truth and I can tell that his red eye is glowing brightly, and I know that my life in this universe is gonna end before it even started. But then, he started laughing as he was pretending to act like I'm some sort of spy trying to gather info about this place under his control.
Monokuma: Fufufufufufufufufufu~ I'm joking with ya, kiddo! I can't believe you fell for that! Your reaction was priceless! I knew that there would be an extra student here in this school, so I'll let it slide this time. Just don't try anything on me or there's gonna be trouble. Got it?
Y/n: Yes, Principal Monokuma. Rules stay with you.
I just got tricked by my favorite Danganronpa character. I would be mad at him, but it was totally worth it.
Monokuma: Well, aren't you an obedient one. Anyways, let's get to the point of this ceremony. For those who want to leave, there is a loophole.
Byakuya: Enlighten us.
Y/n: Yeah, explain to us what you mean about this "loophole".
Monokuma: Good old murder! (Jumps off the stage while spinning and landed on his feet) Yes! The student who murders the classmates and gets away with it, will be permitted to walk out of here scot-free! Pummel! Stab! Blunged! Slice! Torch! Crush! Strangle! Curse! Fufufufufufufufu~
Then went down for a split second to grab a live fish and holds it his arms while the fish is moving around, gasping for air.
Monokuma: Know what you kids and a salmon have in common? Neither of you has the faintest notice of a tingling sensation watching you all slaughter each other makes me. (Tosses the fish aside before looking back at them with his black side) The best of the best, watching you guys murder each other for the free of all. (He then he turns around to see his white side blushing with him sweating at the pleasure from the thoughts of seeing the students murder each other for his own amusement) Is there anything hotter than that?! (Swoons)
Wow. He's crazy and insane. No wonder why he's so into murder that he sees as pleasure to him. He's really sweating from the dark thoughts in his head.
Leon: You're crazy!!
Sayaka: But why?! What could possibility be the point of making us kill?!
Hifumi: Yeah! What they said! If you think we're on onboard with this bullcrap, you're out of your mind!
Y/n: I hate to say it to you guys, but there's no other way to get out of this school unless we do what he says. He has this place all locked up tight and we're all trapped like rats!
Monokuma: The new kid's got the idea, but bullcrap?! What do you get off talking like that to your principal! Love or hate it, sweetie-pies. From here on out, this school is your entire world. (Starts walking down the gym) Look on the bright side, I'm letting you get away with murder. For Reals! So, stop whining and stop plotting!
Then we saw Mondo step in front of Monokuma and kneeled down to him in a fit of rage, not taking this murder business very well.
Mondo: You want murder, Teddy-Two-Tone! Take this shit any further and you'll be victim number one.
Monokuma: Is that a threat? You're gonna impale me with that pompadour?
That really insulted Mondo as he grabbed Monokuma by the neck as he plans to rip Monokuma to pieces, which is against one of Monokuma's rules, which is handling, assaulting or attacking the principal is off limits and Monokuma should be self-destructing at any second now.
Mondo: Bitch! No! What I'm about to do is to tear you about till there's nothing left of whatever is making you jabber!
Y/n: Mondo! Put him down before he-
Monokuma: Gah! No harm must come to the principal under any circumstances!
Then Monokuma used the self-destruct sequence as his red eye flashed then he started beeping that Mondo has a few seconds before he explodes.
Mondo: Uh, guys? What's that noise?
Y/n: He went into self-destruct mode! Toss him out of the way before he explodes!
Mondo: What?!
Y/n: Just do it!
Mondo then didn't think twice and threw Monokuma in the air before his body exploded. Luckily, no one was hurt after that happened.
Naegi: This is real, isn't it?!
Y/n: Well, at least no one was hurt.
Mondo: It could've blown my face off!
Y/n: I tried to warn you but you didn't let him go and he almost blew you up into a pile of your guts!
Hiro: So...is he dead?
Y/n: I don't think so, Hiro. Even if he really was dead, we still won't be able to find any form of communication devices to send some help. Plus, Monokuma has plenty of robotic clones to take his place after his old body blew up after it was set to self-destruct.
Monokuma: You got that right, kiddo. I'm full of surprises.
Then we all looked behind to see Monokuma standing on top of the podium like he some sort of magician or something.
Monokuma: Ta-Da!
Mondo: Y-You son of a-
Monokuma: Consider that a verbal warning, young man. And as for you, new kid. I'm impressed on how you know a lot about me and the rules of this school and I respect that. However, if any of you get smart with me again, any of you, and (Bears out his claws) let's just see around here we forego written warnings in favor of instant corporal punishment!
Everyone including myself was shocked to hear about instant corporal punishments whenever someone tries to attack him like Mondo did that caused the Monokuma clone to explode that would've killed him instantly. Better keep my distance away from him if I don't want to face that kind of punishment from him.
Monokuma: This now concludes the introduction of your orientation boys and girls! He or she should all be enjoying a fun-fulfilling and not exactly long life of scholastic and enrichment year at Hope's Peak Academy!
As Monokuma is finishing his speech of the Welcoming Ceremony, he then went down through a trap door from the podium and disappeared. Then I hear everyone started talking about what just happened after meeting Monokuma as the principal of Hope's Peak Academy and this are about to get serious from here.
Celeste: Sonic I understand this correctly, to make it out of this place is to kill.
Y/n: That's how it works here. But I doubt that anyone around here wants to murder each other just to get out of this school alive.
Taka: (Growls) This is absolutely bogus!
Hiro: No...(Shedding some tears) It's a joke.
Byakuya: Hmph...a joke it may very well be, but it doesn't elevate my concern is to whether one of you to takes it face value.
So we begin our lives as students at Hope's Peak Academy of anyone including myself wants to even call it a life. Cause this place is far from a hall of learning over-achievers with amazing talents that considers them as Ultimate Students. The name was 100% ironic. I wished this for it to happen to me and now that I'm stuck here with the students from the first Danganronpa game, I will do my best to help them out and find a way out of this place they now all call a prison no matter what it takes.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2
#danganronpa#fandom#horror#fanfiction#monokuma#male reader#x male reader#reader insert#action#comedy
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1890s-ish outfit ideas
ok so my town is doing a historical christmas market for the second time ever this year (presumably, I haven't heard any updates yet but everyone around me acts like it's definitely happening so I guess it's happening idk)
Now one of the main inspirations for the outfit is this gorgeous gorgeous outfit from Crimson Peak:
I am. in love. (possibly because this kind of yellow is my favourite colour, though unfortunately I don't have fabric in this colour. ONE DAY). now I'm not going to do a bodice with those full muttonleg sleeves because ew no and also I don't have those skills yet, BUT I do highkey want to somehow incorporate that long bow on the back. (I also want to learn how to do my hair like that)
I also saw this post on instagram and I LOVE this outfit, even if it's about a decade later than what I'm planning. it's fine. there's like 3 people at that entire market that would know this and I know all 3 of them so I can just explain what's up lmao.
For the skirt I have a couple of inspirations that I might do a bit of a mixture of:
On the top left is a picture from a pattern book I have (which is good, because, pattern, even if I have to scale it up and adjust it to my size which will be a hot mess). Top right is a skirt from work that I love so so much, and I've been looking for a dark pinstripe fabric but tbh I already have a fabric and should just go with that instead. I might use the three stripe thing though. Bottom picture is another skirt from work that I was thinking of because of the similar decorations and also. green. because:
The fabric I'm going to use is a dark olive-y green changeant (/shot silk, except I don't think this is silk), so when it moves it gets a purple glow. I got it for free because we had 4 full boxes of unregistered fabrics at work that we filtered through and everything we decided not to keep was up for grabs and I claimed these immediately because I spent a solid couple of minutes just autistically staring at the colours changing in the light while we were folding it. it is, as far as I can tell, synthetic af and probably produced at some point between 1950 and 1980 but also. it's SO SO pretty.
I don't know exactly how much of this fabric I have but it's 2 very big pieces so definitely enough for a massive skirt if I want. I do think I want to use that pattern from the book I have, but I might add some more stripes or ruffles for decoration. idk yet. and also I'm thinking a big bow on the back with the strings going way down. I could make it one of those triangle-y black belts that got especially popular in the edwardian era but were already worn in the 1890s.
As I said, I don't know yet what I'm doing for the top/bodice/whatever. What I AM doing - and already making - is a knitted shawl. I'm using an 1864 pattern which you can find here. The original in the 1860s book looks like this:
BUT I'm making the main portion of it black, because that's what was much more commonly worn here. I haven't decided on the colours for the stripes yet, though I guess I'm probably going with a green to match the skirt.
and that's it so far! 3 months to make the skirt and shawl and decide on what else I'm going to wear, and to also make/find a petticoat or two (I have an actual historical traditional folk dress wool petticoat but it needs a lot of (hand)cleaning and then I need to put new tape on the top and bottom and new hooks and I just. haven't started on any of it yet.)
Oh also, before anyone asks: no I don't have a corset, and I'm not going to make one, because if I buy one it's expensive af and I don't have the time or skills to make one. it's fine. some day hopefully I'll have a corset or two. That said, if I do end up making a bodice I might cheat a little there and put some boning in that. Maybe.
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No better way to word this so Imma just say it: as a fellow peets enjoyer, I would enjoy reading your takes on the SFs Gangs feet. So if you ever need a excuse to talk about it… gestures
(Also calling it. Larry is ticklish as fuck down there which makes most of the kinky stuff one may want to do impossible because he already feels phantom tickles when you just wriggle your fingers in that general direction and becomes an absolutely giggly mess instead. Which also has its charm mind you)
Anon, it is such a pleasure to be reminded that there are persons with impeccable taste, such as yourself, lurking in the fandom and on my blog, and it's even better when said persons encourage me to be as self-indulgent as you have with this ask. Please accept these headcanons that I thought about way more seriously than I probably should have lmao (I did my best to not let my personal preferences influence them, but a few maaay have sipped through the cracks, and so did yours 🙈💓💦)
What are the Gangs Feet like?-
[CW: Grapefruit (though this is 99% sfw), unsanitary, tickling]
Sally:
-Big feet for his height, greek shape, pronounced metacarpal and ankle bones, arches are a little high.
-Wears shitty off-brand high tops with zero arch support and doesn't seem like the type to own a pumice stone, so there's some callusing on his feet where his shoes rub, but the rest of the skin is relatively soft.
-Typically keeps his nails trimmed purely for comforts sake
-Smell varies from very minimal to strong, depending on whether he's been playing video games or hiking around the woods all day, and whether or not hes had the spoons to change and shower recently.
-Wears soft cotton ankle-length socks (sensory friendly and cushions his very exposed achilles tendons), occasionally with novelty prints. He keeps them on most of the time because his feet get cold easily.
-Sometimes paints his toenails (badly)
-Not ticklish unless you really, really try.
-Hesitant to accept a foot rub, but once you've assured him that you actually want to give him one and he gets used to the feeling, he'll slowly melt into his seat... 🥴
-Blushes if you play footsie with him. 😳
Larry:
-Big ol flipper feet, roman shape, a little wide, average arches.
-Wears sturdy, ankle length work boots with good support, so there's minimal callus, though the skin is overall a little tough.
-Might forget to trim his nails sometimes, and the smell can get pretty ripe if hes been working real hard all day... 😬
-Wears moisture-wicking, mid-crew length socks with strong elastic because he can't stand the feeling of his socks slipping down and bunching at the toe. He has a bad habit of stripping off his socks when he's lounging and leaving them on the floor.
-Has some moles on his feet (just like he has on the rest of him).
-He's ticklish as hell, so touches have to be predictable, deliberate and firm (unless you want to see him reduced to a giggling, thrashing wreck, in which case, do so at your own risk ⚠)
-Would lean back and 'feel like a king' getting his feet rubbed (once it's clear you're for sure not going to tickle him). 👑
-Taps and shakes his feet if he's sitting still for too long.
Ash:
-Larger than average, narrow, greek shape, low arches.
-Used to be that kid that always walked around outside barefoot, but her current use of cosmetics and shaved legs suggests a beauty regimen that would keep her feet looking presentable. She periodically uses a pumice stone, regularly moisturizes, keeps her nails trimmed and occasionally uses nail polish (purple, black or clear).
-Wears supportive, cushioned athletic shoes, and thin, no-show socks, generally in solid colors, but may choose to forgo socks altogether.
-Usually smells like her moisturizer or has a pretty mild scent, unless its especially hot out 🌸
-Average ticklishness
-Could be convinced to have her feet rubbed if it was a mutual thing, or she was especially sore and really needed it.
-Will totally do mani-pendis with a friend! 💅✨️
Todd:
-Average size, egyptian shape, average arches.
-Wears white and grey crew socks and sandals with shorts, so he has a noticeable tan line on his calves. He spends most of his time seated, so they're pretty soft, but the skin can be a little dry in patches.
-Generally keeps his nails tidy, though he can neglect them if he's become hyperfocused on a project, in which case Neil has to remind him to trim them after hes had enough of getting scratched while they're lying in bed togther. 🛌
-Not much of a scent, since the sandals let them breathe.
-Basically impervious to tickling thanks to his parents.
-Will accept the occasional foot rub from Neil, but is more likely to give them, and is pretty good at it, since he's learned a few techniques and pressure points over the years.
-Keeps his socks on most of the time (including during sex) unless it's very hot out. He's just more comfortable that way 🧦
Travis:
-Smaller than average, square shape, low arches.
-Wears mid-crew socks in various colors, sneakers, and dress shoes. Average amount of callous.
-Trimmed nails and almost no scent (he has to shower every day), but that likely changed when he became more involved in behind-the-scenes cult work, and he became increasingly disheveled as he began neglecting his personal hygiene.
-Ticklish to the point of kicking (and will not hold back) 🤬
-Does not like having his feet touched at all (hes touch averse in general), and you probably could not convince him to give a foot rub to anyone under any circumstances without blackmailing him into it. ❌
-Always has socks on unless he's changing or bathing, even when he's sleeping.
#k.e.w.k. answers#k.e.w.k. writes#sal fisher#larry johnson#ashley campbell#todd morrison#travis phelps#the gang#grapefruit#sorry steve#tickling#tw feet#tw unsanitary#i am labeling this as mature just to be on the safe side fkljaldjla#I LOVE MY KINKY KOUHAI SM 😭💖💖💖#such a bonus when the kink is mutual and i can just Get Into It 😤👌#I hope you enjoyed these anon~
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