#PLEASE ACCEPT THIS PEACE OFFERING!
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onigirio · 1 year ago
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lyney is your biggest fan
no, really. as one of the biggest idols in fontaine, the magician is in awe of your talent. you were both performers yet, you were both so different. lyney's performances relied on illusions, trickery, lies. however, you were born with it. a voice that easily made his card tricks look abysmal. no amount of rabbits pulled out of a hat would compare to your natural talent
"excuse me- monsieur lyney!"
the magician turned around at the sudden call of his name. him and lynette had just finished another show at the opera epiclese, which had a surprisingly large turnout. what he wasn't expecting, was to see fontaine's national treasure in the audience
his lavender eyes widened upon seeing you. no amount of magic (real or fake) could hide the sudden increase of his heart rate
"ohoho? the ever radiant rainbow rose of fontaine. to what do i owe the pleasure?" he said coolly, despite heat on his face. you were even more beautiful in person
you laughed softly, a sound that brought a flush to his cheeks, "i just wanted to say that your show was absolutely mesmerizing!" the way you said it, with a sparkle of joy in your eyes, surprised him. the performer he looked up to, loved his show? lyney couldn't fathom someone as talented as you even sparing his hat tricks a second glance
"th-thank you demoiselle" he said as a flush made his way to his cheeks, "a compliment from such a praised performer such as yourself means the world to me."
you waved him off, "please- today I'm not an idol. consider this a fan showing their appreciation for their favorite performer"
fan?
oh
oh
you were lyney's fan. you enjoyed his shows as much as he enjoyed yours. the blond found himself flushing at the prospect of you cheering him on
someone called your name, and the both of you turned to watch two men in black suits approaching
"ah, my security is here" you said with a small frown, "they're pretty good magicians too, they know how to make all the fun disappear"
lyney pursed his lips. he didn't like seeing you sad, so, in a flash, he took off his black magician's hat and pulled out a rainbow rose
"lucky for you, I'm an expert at making things reappear"
now it was your turn to blush. you could only stutter, struggling to find the right words as you took the delicate flower into your hands. when your body guards arrived, you thanked lyney with a shy smile and left
maybe he wasn't the greatest magician, because you had just pulled off the most incredible trick
you made his composure disappear
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15-heidune · 9 days ago
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Fanart for Dire Dire Docks by @dialga64bitz
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sssammich · 7 months ago
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For supercorp 💗 🥹🥹
💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft
thanks for your patience, anon! alas, i have gone overboard once more because i cannot help myself.
ask meme
---
she's been given a mandatory month off from supergirl duties. she's not sick, she hasn't solar flared, and she's not hurting for any freelance work that requires her attention. she had simply been told that she needed to take the time off and to avoid any caped hero work unless absolutely necessary.
so that's why she's here now, without superhero work for the next thirty days. free to do whatever she wants.
after the initial shock washes over her, she places her hands on her hips and nods towards alex and j'onn. she knows exactly what she wants to do with her freedom.
"okay."
"look, before you fight th--okay?" alex stares at her, wide eyes mirroring kara's. "really?"
she shrugs, already heading towards the elevator. no need to fight the inevitable. "really."
as the elevator doors close in front of her, she can't help smirking in amusement at the identical confused expressions on both of their faces.
she has one destination in mind.
-
she knocks on the massive wooden door, though she knows she doesn't need to. it's a formality at this point considering the unrestricted access that she's been granted to enter the top floor of this condominium highrise.
still, she waits, because the anticipation is half the fun.
her face splits into an easy smile when lena opens the door to her with her own toothy grin.
"heya," she greets, stepping foot into what she calls home: within lena's arms.
"hello to you, too," lena says, swift yet careful in wrapping kara in her arms. her hands are open as they rub circles on kara's back. kara sinks further into lena's embrace, pulling lena further into her. "how are you?"
"i'm great."
lena stares into her eyes. "yeah?"
"oh yeah. i'm on vacation." she emphatically nods.
lena beams at that. "funny you say that. me too."
she quirks a brow at that, though she shouldn't be surprised. a month vacation doesn't just fall into people's laps without explanation. "yeah?"
"oh yeah," lena mimics her.
kara, still holding lena in her arms, pulls the other woman back in, the two of them swinging in place. "what a coincidence, right?"
lena throws her head back in laughter.
-
they arrive in a private villa off the coast of naples.
it's a modest hillside two bedroom house that overlooks the gulf below. when the local guide roll their suitcases for them, he unknowingly wheels lena's to one room and hers to the other. she smirks and lena tips him handsomely--enough that his olive skin tinges in embarrassment at just how much is in his hands. when their eyes meet after he leaves, they break into a giggle.
because they know the truth, despite not uttering a word of it: why bother taking up more room when right by each other's side is all the space they'll want to take.
despite the destination of her luggage, her body follows after lena to the other room, the one with the better view of the water. just as well, lena's body follows after her when they busy themselves in the kitchen to make themselves a quick dinner. when they finish, they share the hammock sitting out on the back deck, lena's head on her chest and her arms around her waist, while kara's arms wind their way in holding lena against her, their limbs tangled.
when lena yawns a few too many times, they call it a night. lena leads, their hands entwined, and they end up on lena's bed, drawing back the thin covers enough to stave off the inevitable cool night air.
-
they walk everywhere, always touching. a hand on the arm the elbow the bicep the small of her back. an arm slung over a shoulder or hooked together.
it's when they reach a destination that kara's courage grows, that lena's bravery broadens.
when they travel to the town square market as they shop for groceries that lips find their way on one another's skin; the temple the cheek the forehead.
when they treat themselves to a picnic right by a vineyard and lena is leaning back on her between her legs, lips chance on a bare and pale shoulder.
when they lounge in the hammock and lena is resting on her chest, lips chance on collarbones and behind the ears.
when they tire themselves out from full days, fuller stomachs, and fullest hearts that they are in bed and lena is facing her and their legs are tangled with one another, lips chance on entwined hands and fingers.
each one given freely, each one received gracefully.
soon, kara thinks, this will all change. especially when they cross the final threshold between them. though that's a formality at this point, all things considered.
still, she will wait until that happens, more than happy to be exactly where she is.
-
thirty days is long and short and is plenty and is not enough.
on their last day while they wait for their local guide to collect them, they stand on the corner edge of the back deck, lena in her arms as they overlook the gulf for the last time.
"i don't want to go back to work," she murmurs into lena's ear. lena twists in kara's arms until they're facing one another.
"you don't have to, if you really don't want to."
"we can move into this villa. i'll learn to fish. you can sell them at the market."
lena laughs in her arms and kara holds her tighter, like trying to capture lightning in a bottle.
"you're no good as a fisherman, sweetheart."
kara pouts because it's probably true. but she'll learn for lena.
"well, next time we're on vacation, we ought to come back."
"anything you want," lena says, her eyes dipping down to where kara's lips are.
"anything?"
lena nods, assuring, her eyes darkening. kara's smile widens and she leans forward just enough, their noses brushing.
kara is ready for what's to come. she's ready for lena.
still, she waits, because the anticipation is half the fun.
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cladestruction · 1 year ago
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a normal day in the life of Pickles, the frontman of SnB. just spending the night smoking and drinking and kissing and crying a normal amount
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kindaokexample · 2 years ago
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currently being driven to madness by @rukafais posts about how kimmuriel picked up rai’gy’s item enchanting / alchemy skills after he was gone and since I only read Servant of the Shard and not the other 2 I don’t know if they talk about what happens to all his leftover stuff out of the room they shared like. screams
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acourtofquestions · 2 months ago
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Hearth to hearth, the Flame of War went.
Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the enemies that prowled the skies. Through long, bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.
But the wind did not succeed, not against the flame of the queen.
So hearth to hearth, it went.
To remote villages where people screamed and scattered as a young-faced woman descended from the skies on a broom, waving her torch high.
Not to signal them, but the few women who did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the rider, as she called out, "Your queen summons you to war. Will you fly?"
Trunks hidden in attics were thrown open. Folded swaths of red cloth pulled from within. Brooms left in closets, beside doorways, tucked under beds, were brought out, bound in gold or silver or twine. And swords-ancient and beautiful—were drawn from beneath floorboards, or hauled down from haylofts, their metal shining as bright and fresh as the day they had been forged in a city now lying in ruin.
Witches, the townsfolk whispered, husbands wide-eyed and disbelieving as the women took to the skies, red cloaks billowing. Witches amongst us all this time.
Village to village, where hearths that had never once gone fully dark blazed in answer.
Always one rider going out, to find the next hearth, the next bastion of their people.
Witches, here amongst us. Witches, now going to war.
A rising tide of witches, who took to the skies in their red cloaks, swords strapped to their backs, brooms shedding years of dust with each mile northward.
Witches who bade their families farewell, offering no explanation before they kissed their sleeping babes and vanished into the starry night.
Mile after mile, across the darkening world, the call went out, ceaseless and unending as the eternal flame that passed from hearth to hearth.
"Fly, fly, fly!" they shouted. "To the queen! To war!"
Far and wide, through snow and storm and peril, the Crochans flew.
#Chapter 65#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Manon Blackbeak#no spoilers please first read along with me#spoilers in post and tags with more notes reactions quotes annotations etc in tags#Dorian had gone to Morath. Had flown from the camp on wings of his own making.#He would have chosen some sort of small ordinary bird Manon knew. Something even the Thirteen would not have noted#Crunching snow told her Asterin approached. He left didn't he. She nodded unable to find words. — she knew. East not North.#She had offered him everything and had thought he'd meant to accept it. Had thought he did accept it#She had offered him everything and had thought he'd meant to accept it. Had thought he did accept it. Yet it had been farewell.#He would not cage her would not accept what she'd given. As if he knew her better than she knew herself. Do we go after him?#Today-today they would decide where to go. Today she'd dare ask the Crochans to follow. — The Last Crochan Queen The Witch-Queen#to head back into hell The sun rose full and golden as if it were the solitary note of a song filling the world. — for him she would#Terrasen calls for aid! A young Crochan's voice rang through the camp. — but for her people — THEY GOT THE CALL — GO NOW#Even if she'd needed it waited for it. The Flame of War. What say you Queen of Witches? A challenge and a dare. Manon lifted her chin to -#-the two paths before her. one to the east to Morath the other NORTHward to Terrasen and to battle. The wind sang and in it she heard the#answer. I shall answer Terrasen's call Manon said. Asterin stepped to her side fearless as she surveyed the assembled camp. As shall I.#And so it went. Until the leaders of all seven of the Great Hearths stood gathered there. — I’m not crying ur crying — fire bringer#Rhiannon Crochan rode at King Brannon's side into battle. So has her likeness been reborn so shall the old alliances be forged anew.#Light the Flame of War Queen of Witches and rally your host. — the eternal flame — darkness will not claim them#Even the wind did not jostle the flame as Manon lifted it a torch in the new day. The Crochan crowd parted revealing a straight path toward#Bronwens Hearth. ​Each step was a drumbeat of war. An answer to a question posed long ago. Your Queen summons you to war. — Hearth to Heart#Then and only then did the young scout from the final clan take her burning torch grab her broom and leap into the skies.#To find the next clan to tell them the call had gone out. — nothing but a smoldering speck against the sky then nothing at all. — Hope.#Manon offered a silent prayer on the wind that the sacred flame the young scout bore would burn steadfast over the long dangerous miles.#All the way to the killing fields of Terrasen. Hearth to hearth the Flame of War went.#Fly fly fly! they shouted. To the queen! To war! Far and wide through snow and storm and peril the Crochans flew.#Terrasen calls for aid — so they follow. — Hold on LysAedion come on Aelin — I’m not crying I’m just crying — NOW GO QUICK#The true Witch Queen child of peace and war Manon Blackbeak of the Thirteen & Rhiannon The Last Crochan Queen
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byanyan · 9 months ago
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the creechur has been satiated.......
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yolo357speedpaint · 2 years ago
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🌹Happy Valentine's Day!🌹
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athenacorvus · 1 year ago
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Ooof I delved into the FE Engage tag to see what's up; the answer is discourse. Let's not go there anymore 😅
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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago
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Deku - Midoriya Izuku
TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere
gn reader
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Thinking about being childhood friends with Izuku, who’s always had a bit of a crush on you. 
You’ve always known, but you’ve never humored it. He’s your friend – anything else would just be awkward. If you had to put it in any other term, you’d say he felt more like a little brother.
You wish he’d allowed the two of you to grow apart – as normal people do.
There wasn’t really any reason for the two of you to stay friends after middle school. His quirk suddenly manifested, and he got into UA – became a pro-hero – and then the symbol of peace. And you were still… kind of just doing your thing – studying, working, struggling to pay rent – struggling to keep a date…
The two of you never had much in common anyway, and you never really knew what to talk about with him anymore – only knowing to ask him how his mother was. After all, you grew out of your otaku phase a long while ago – and otherwise, you felt out-educated in any and every conversation the two of you had with each other. You swear talking to him makes you feel like a toddler learning your first words – it’s humiliating, and you don’t understand how any of it’s remotely stimulating for him, either.
Still, he’ll text you when he has the time, asking if you’d like to meet up at a café – talk, catch up – and you, not wanting to be rude, always accept.
You’d gone wide-eyed the first time you’d met him after middle school. Jeez Louise – he’d had to have grown twice his size – jacked and scarred to no end. It only got worse over the years. Now, adults – he must be twice your size. Bigger even.
You blush now when he flirts with you. But not so much for the reasons he wants.
Honestly, it’s more uncomfortable than it’s flattering. It was Izuku, after all – Deku – no matter how little he resembled the crybaby from your childhood – he’d always be that same nerdy loser friend who’d chased after you ever since you first met.
He might have grown up, but his crush on you hadn’t.
His doe-eyed look of longing and adoration had always made you feel a little awkward – a little sorry for him. And now that he’s become a man, it’s only become even more… desperate… a little pathetic, actually…
Bedroom eyes that make you laugh nervously, pretending to brush it off as a joke but really wishing he’d just give it a rest already. Surely, as a pro-hero and public figure, he could get a date? One of the many screaming fans that pine for him everywhere he drags that awful golden cape he has on his shoulders. And if not any of them, then maybe a model. A movie star even.
Why is he so hung up on you?
The funny thing is, you’d tried vying him of his crush by telling him about hook-up after hook-up, boyfriend after boyfriend – treating him like a girlfriend you could gossip with.
But it’s almost like he takes it as a challenge – talking and helping you through your relationships, giving his input and advice – just like a real friend would… only… always implementing something… something condescending, something suggestive, something saying you ought to be with him instead – he’d never treat you like that, he’d never do you wrong, you’d be taking good care of with him.
You’d made the mistake of saying you were struggling with a class at university – just to make conversation – just to talk about something trivial. But of course, he’d seen it as an opportunity – quick to offer his help, saying he’d taken that class as an extracurricular – just for a bit of fun, he’d said, light reading material he’d done on the side of his internship.
You don’t know why it’s so hard to tell him no.
Suppose it’s the possibility of being wrong – the guilt of thinking he has impure intentions when he’s supposedly the purest person in the world.
But you should have trusted your instincts.
“Please, Izuku-” You’d immediately restored to begging. Who wouldn’t? He’s a two-meter-tall monster of a man – jacked with muscles fatter than a bear.
Your phone’s been missing since you came back from the bathroom – your lips wet with his unwanted kisses – your neck sore from having his fist wrapped around it when you tried stopping him.
You’d only managed to break free after biting – blood salty in your mouth. You nearly vomited, choking on a mix of bile and fear.
Fuck – your legs are so weak, you might just buckle from the dread alone – feeling like a bunny snagged on fox teeth.
“You used to take me when we’d play wrestle... you remember?”
The comment is pulled out of nowhere.
He stalks you, a fond look on his face as though the two of you were reminiscing good old times. As though his eyes weren’t a nocturnal green like foxfire on the fen. As though he wasn’t radiating black whip – ready to snare you.
“Think you can take me now?”
You had your hands raised apprehensively – but the hopelessness took its toll and made your entire body shake on the spot.
Your only hope was to talk him out of it. If only you could think past the fear and string a sentence together that wasn’t along the lines of “Please-”
But something about that look on his face told you he wouldn’t listen to reason anymore. Not manic, not like a person who’d finally snapped – but controlled – resolute – and playful even. Nothing like you’d ever seen. Nothing you could understand.
“What’s wrong, hm?” He smiles, head tipped in that charming way that used to make you want to pinch his cheek. Now it just makes you sick to look at – swallowing thickly as you tack another step back away from it. “I’ll go easy – so don’t worry… I know it's not exactly a fair fight anymore…”
Your better judgment failed you – fight-or-flight kicked in, and you made a break for it. 
Budging into the couch on your way, it’s a messy scramble for the door – but you manage. Feeling feverish with dread and pumped full of adrenaline, you brush the cold handle with just your fingertips before something wraps around your midriff in a snug grip – pulling you back into the living room.
You’re lifted from the ground, kicking – now screaming – flailing in the air before you’re flipped on your back against the couch.
“Don’t be like that~” He murmurs. “Always so wishy-washy~” Voice in a low purr that makes you feel like coughing up your heart – squirming beneath him and his heavy hands as they paw your thighs – manhandling you like nothing you’d ever imagine him to do.
Raking his fingers through the dough before squeezing your ass greedily – kneading his fat crotch against the thin fabric protecting your sex. 
“Complaining about all your weak-dicked boyfriends as if begging me to come fuck you myself – yet such a flighty little slut when it comes down to it.” He sneers, and blackwhip tightens some around your limbs. “Let me help you out.”
One hand tugs your underwear until it rips, whilst the other hand pulls up to grab your face – squeezing your cheeks to keep you still when forcing his kisses on you.
“After all… what are friends for?”
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♡ DEKU - MIDORIYA IZUKU masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist
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gojorgeous · 1 year ago
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"business or pleasure?"
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pairing: gojo x fem!reader summary: the gojo clan decides it’s time to secure an heir… and you’re the lucky woman selected for the job… content: HEAVY breeding, arranged marriage, language, praise, dacryphilia, p->v, fingering, mating press, a lil’ blood (if you squint), pet names, implied multiple rounds, gojo just generally being a menace, no established relationship, reader and gojo literally just met, reader is literally there for the purpose of getting pregnant, positive pregnancy test at the end, ideas of women as baby incubators :x, consent king gojo. wc: 3.7k a/n: I HAVE RETURNED!!! Hey!!!!!! Long time no see, babes. I was looking at my account and I haven’t posted a fic in *cough* TWO YEARS. There is simply no way that’s real 😭 Anyway, I’ve returned with something slightly different: A Gojo fic. You’re welcome. Mwah. Also, please send messages I miss y'all. happy new year bbs. and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!
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It’s only your third time in Japan. The first had been to visit family friends when you were eight, the second for a girls’ trip after you graduated college. You liked it. Tokyo was bright and busy and full of shops and things to do. The countryside always offered beauty and peace. But this third time was different. No shopping, no temples, no amusement parks. You were here for business, not pleasure. 
You run a finger along the edge of a mahogany bookshelf. Your feet are killing you, a flick of your ankles tossing your heels across the room. Your nose wrinkles when you land on a particular title. The Art of War? Interesting choice… You scan the other books, and your brows rise when you find a strange combination of academics, young adult, manga, and high fantasy? A multi-genre reader, then…
You absentmindedly rub at the arch of your foot, pushing out the ache as best you can. A day so full of stress has left you weary. Your mother hadn’t stopped hovering until the moment you’d escaped into your car, a new husband on your arm. 
You sigh. You could still hear the shower running along with said husband humming loudly to a tune you didn’t recognize. At least your groom wasn’t shy. 
A glance toward the bed has your brows raising. Were those… squishmallows? One looked like a shark, the other like a… sushi? You press your lips together, avoiding a laugh he would surely hear. You make your way to the mattress, sighing when you finally get to sit. You pull the sushi into your arms, hugging the pillow to your chest, but it no longer seemed so funny anymore. You had bigger things to think about. Your legs press together in a mix of anticipation and anxiety. All the way from America you’d come to marry the Gojo heir. It had been a rushed arrangement. Apparently, the Gojo clan had finally put their foot down and decided their heir should finally get to the business of making another heir. There’d been a search far and wide for the best match and somehow, they’d settled on you. An accomplished sorcerer yourself and abilities in your blood that only strengthened those of the Gojo line, you’d been an suitable pick. It didn’t hurt that you were young, healthy, and (upon a trip to a renowned fertility clinic) proven to be very fertile. 
Your parents had been oh-so eager to accept the Gojo clan’s proposition. The Gojo heir’s power hadn’t been matched in nearly 400 years. Any and every family would jump at the opportunity to be tied to them, especially through marriage and heirs. You were surprised you’d been chosen considering all of the options there must have been. 
Satoru seemed… fine, you thought. You hadn’t had much time to talk with him privately. The first time you’d met had been on a phone call with both of your sets of parents present and the next had been at the altar. At one point in the night he’d asked a waiter to refill your wine glass and he’d been a rather good dancer. Other than that, you’d been pulled apart at all odds and ends until you’d come back here: his apartment. 
You’d expected something a little more lavish for your wedding night, especially considering the spectacle that your wedding had been. Ice sculptures, thousand dollar bouquets, and diamond encrusted wedding rings had turned to an elegantly decorated bachelor pad. A glance around revealed a space that was obviously lived in, with odd mixes of $10,000 dollar chairs and… squishmallows.
You sink onto the edge of the bed, eyes peeling over the half-moons of your nails and the heavy gems that now sit on the fourth finger of your left hand. They are a weight you feel the pressure of. A pressure to live up to expectations, to produce a much-desired product. 
A door opens down the hall and you realize the pounding of water and the lilting of a hum has ceased. Your husband is done with his shower. 
A few seconds later he reveals himself, prancing down the hallway and into his bedroom like it’s just another Tuesday and not his wedding night. A plush blue towel is slung low around his waist and from the rivulets of water running all over his body you judge that he hadn’t even taken the time to properly dry off. Not that you mind.
You’d known your new husband was beautiful but you’d never imagined he’d be so… so goddamn seductive. 
Washboard abs, toned arms, sculpted back, wet hair and icy eyes… he was the image of a god. 
“Sorry for making you wait. I really needed that.” 
Gojo prods at his temples, eyes squished shut in what looked like a moment of pain. You’d heard of this problem from the clan. He hadn’t worn his blindfold all day for the sake of the wedding. It was no wonder the effects were catching up with him. 
“No problem.” 
A small smile reveals just a few blinding teeth and you could swear your vision went out for just a moment. 
“You hungry?” 
You arch a brow. The man had eaten two full plates and practically half the cake not yet an hour ago. 
“Can’t say that I am.” 
“Hm.” 
He nods and you watch as he plucks a stray candy off his bedside table, tossing the wrapper to the floor. 
“So, uh-” You watch the butterscotch bulge in his cheek. “You really wanna do this?” 
You glance at your half-naked husband who is practically a walking temptation. You take a breath. He’s standing so casually, as if this is a normal conversation to be having and not something life-altering.
“You don’t?” you ask.
All that gets you is a shit-eating grin. 
“Never said that.” 
You can’t help the smirk that crawls across your lips. 
“Well, we might as well get it over with, no?” 
Another flash of pearly whites. 
“Get it over with, hm?” 
You miss his meaning, pulling at a loose thread on the bedspread. 
“It shouldn’t take much effort. I’m on so many fertility meds you could probably spit on me and I’d get pregnant.” 
You pick at the thread a little more, biting your lip when you realize it’s one of those strands that’s infinite. 
“That so?” 
You jolt when a speck of wetness lands on your cheek. A quick glance reveals a fuzzy blue towel far too close for comfort. A half-naked Gojo is a whole lot closer than he’d been just seconds ago. How is he so quiet? 
Blue eyes bore into yours, water dripping down white strands and onto your skin. He’s so damn tall. He has your neck craned all the way back just to meet his gaze. 
“Yes.” You swallow. “It was part of our prenup.”
Dazed. You’re absolutely dazed. 
“Well, we probably shouldn’t risk breaking a legally binding contract, hm?” 
Closer. He’s coming closer. Too close. 
You lean back, scooting yourself up the bed in a feeble attempt to get a little more space, your emotional support sushi tumbling to the floor. He follows right after you. 
Something primal thrusts through your veins at the sight of a man, sopping wet and smirking, crawling after you, some mix of teasing and pure drive hidden in his eyes. Gojo doesn’t stop, not until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Close. Too close. 
You’d thought he would have dried a bit by now, but water still slicks off his skin and hair, showering you lightly. You shiver and your husband notices. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and you get a breath of the sweetness of butterscotch and mint toothpaste. 
“You say stop,” he breathes, “and we stop.”
He leans closer, so close you can smell the eucalyptus and myrrh of his shampoo, the musk of his body wash, the candied sweetness of his breath. Those piercing blue eyes flit to your lips and back up again. 
A breath, a pause. 
“Stop?” he asks. His eyes are piercing.
You shake your head. 
“Go.” 
Lips, teeth, tongue. All of it hits you at once. For a moment you’re too shocked to respond, but then his weight is leaning on you and his hand is on your waist and his mouth tastes like candy and- and then you’re kissing him back. 
A heavy hand digs into the flesh of your waist and your hands find a patch of damp white hair to tangle in. 
He tastes good- too good and when a deft hand guides you down to the mattress you start to think that this whole baby-making business might not be so bad after all. 
Teeth knock, tongues touch, and you are on the edge of what would have been a particularly throaty moan when he pulls away. 
His attention shifts elsewhere, kisses trailing down your neck and hands straying to your hips.
“Have you-” a kiss to your collarbone. “Done this before?”
You freeze.
“What?” 
Gojo raises his head a bit and the most irritating kind of smirk plays on his lips. 
“Don’t know- thought maybe this was a virgin for your super rich husband kinda thing?” 
You shove his head back down.
“Shut up.”
He chuckles and the sound vibrates against your skin. 
“Okay, sp no need to go slow then…” 
His lips continue their assault, brushing and grazing over your skin until it lifts with goosebumps. Your breaths come a little faster, a little heavier and you gasp when his hand curls beneath the hem of your skirt.
“Oh? What’s this?” His fingers brush against the garter that rests at the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had you agreed to wear the damn thing? You reach down, hoping to quickly rid yourself of the scrap of fabric before you can become oven more mortified. You’re just about to clamp down on it when Gojo catches your wrist. “Ah, ah. No need to be so hasty.” Your hand is easily pinned down to the mattress and, for some reason, you don’t fight it. 
Your breath catches when your skirt lifts only for Gojo to dive beneath it without a second thought. You feel his teeth grazing across the skin of your thigh. 
“Gojo-” you breathe, squirming. 
His head reappears suddenly, another one of those mischievous grins gracing his lips. “Satoru when I’m about to be inside you, baby.” 
He disappears again and you gasp and wiggle when you feel his tongue laving across the inside of your thigh. 
His teeth graze you again, but this time they clamp down on the garter and you feel it slowly sliding across your skin, down, down, past your knee and eventually to your ankle where Satoru finally yanks it past your foot with a final tug. 
You stare at him, wide eyed and lustful. That had to have been one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. 
Satoru plucks the garter from his teeth and dangles it in front of his eyes. It’s a white, lacy little thing that matches the shade of his hair. He’s grinning again when he slides it onto his wrist like a bracelet– no, like a trophy.
“Thanks for the present.” He’s still grinning, still staring, his fingers still fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “How attached are you to this dress?” he asks. 
You blink, swallowing nervously, unable to break away from his gaze. It’s too strong, too mesmerizing. “Not… attached at all,” you manage. It’s true. Somebody else picked it out, and you’ve only been wearing it for about an hour– and it’s not like you can’t just buy a new one now with access to the Gojo bank accounts. 
His grin somehow grows even wider. “Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” 
There’s a splitting sound and suddenly your dress is tearing straight down the middle. It’s slow and controlled and you wonder if he’s practiced at this or if his strength is just that regulated. You find yourself hoping it’s the latter. 
The dress is ripped from your skin and you see it land somewhere across the room. You hear something shatter along with a thud, but Satoru seems anything but worried, so you ignore it. 
You’re bare in just your undergarments, a lacy white set that you’re now half proud of and half embarrassed by. 
Satoru whistles and his hands settle on your waist. “Damn, baby. Why’d you keep all this hidden for so long?” 
You scoff, your confidence surging. You reach for him, grabbing a scruff of hair at the back of his neck and pulling him close. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, Toru.” 
The sound of the nickname on your lips makes him shiver and you smirk triumphantly.
“Hmm…” is all he says as his fingers trail lower, lower, lower, until they’re dipping beneath the band of your panties. It’s somewhere between tortuous and ticklish and you squirm. “Ah, ah. Hold still for me, now.” He presses one hand to the valley between your breasts, holding you down as his other hand continues lower. When his thumb finds the wet spot on your panties and presses down your back arches and your breath escapes. 
He chuckles. “Little needy, aren’t you?” His thumb moves a little higher, grazing your clit, and you whimper. 
With one deft movement he unclasps your bra, tossing it aside. You register for just a moment that your chest is now completely bare, but soon enough his mouth is closing around your nipple and all else is forgotten. 
“S-Satoru!” you whisper. Your voice feels hoarse, even if it has no reason to be. 
His thumb continues its assault between your thighs. “So wet already, baby…” He sounds ecstatic. The grin on his lips makes you whine. “Let’s get these out of the way…” Before you know it, you hear more tearing and then cold air hits your cunt. You cry out when Satoru’s thumb returns to its ministrations, but this time there’s no cloth barrier to dull the sensation. Your hands push out and your nails curl into his bare shoulders. You need him closer.
“Satoru…” you breathe. “Kiss me…” 
That shit-eating grin returns, but he follows your command. “As my wife wishes.” 
When lips meet yours it’s hot and messy. Your nails claw down his back and you’re sure you’re leaving marks. If he minds, he certainly doesn’t show it.
His thumb continues at your clit as a finger prods at your entrance. When he slides in slowly, you gasp. He murmurs something about you being so sensitive, and proceeds to quickly find that gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. Before you know it he’s adding a second finger and soon your hips are rocking against his thrusts, meeting his pace as you chase your high. 
“God, you’re so wet.” he whispers against your lips. True to his word, he’s been kissing you, never letting up in his attack on your mouth. “Bet you taste like fucking heaven.”
You whine, your hips stuttering against his hand. “G-Gonna… I’m–” 
He grins again, and pulls away just enough to meet your gaze. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” Your eyes flutter shut, your head rolling back– “Nuh, uh. Keep those eyes open. Wanna see every second.” 
Your breaths flutter and you whimper loudly, the sound bouncing on the walls. You’re not sure why you listen, why you fight to keep your eyes open, locked on him, but you do. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll pull away and leave you wanting… or maybe you just want to please him.
You feel your muscles clenching in your stomach, hear the sloppy sounds of Satoru’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, see the gleeful anticipation in his eyes. His thumb rubs a particularly delicious circle around your clit and you feel yourself thrown over the edge. 
You can’t help but be loud. You hold his gaze the whole time, whimpering and whining his name as you gush all over his sheets. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching, holding him inside, desperate to be filled. You hear him panting above you, like watching has somehow taken his breath away. 
“Good girl,” he whispers and you feel a second wave of pleasure ripple through you. 
You feel weak by the time your orgasm leaves you. Your muscles are limp and your cunt is so sensitive that you flinch when Satoru removes his fingers. He brushes a tear from the corner of your eye and you watch as he brings his sopping fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices clean. He moans, a deep throaty sound, like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. You watch his eyes roll back in his skull, watch his throat bob as he swallows. Your lips part at the sight. 
His fingers fall from his mouth with a pop and his grin returns.
“Just like I thought,” he says. “Heaven.” 
He’s back on you in a second, licking a stripe from your collarbone to just beneath your ear. His hips slot between your own and a strong hands hook around the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. You whimper. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so completely and utterly exposed. 
“On to the main event, yeah?” The twinkle in his eye has your heart racing even faster. His fingers catch the towel that is somehow still wrapped snugly around his waist. With one tug, it’s gone and your mouth is watering in anticipation. 
Your jaw drops lower, if it’s even possible. He’s… huge. Long and pretty with veins that you know are going to rub just right. His tip is pink and leaking, ready. 
“Satoru, it won’t–” 
His lips connect to your pulse, licking and sucking when you feel him prodding at your entrance. “It’ll fit, baby.” 
He slides himself through your folds, gathering your juices and torturing you every time his tip bumps your clit. By the time he’s finally lining himself up, you’re practically begging. 
The first push is heaven. You’re both moaning when he prods past that first tight ring of muscle and you’re gasping, crying out his name and clawing at his back. He keeps pushing, filling you inch by inch until he’s pressed snugly against your cervix. You thank him aloud when he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim. He only kisses the tears from your cheeks. 
The first thrust has you seeing stars, little white spots clouding your vision. The second has your nails embedding in his skin hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it has him moving faster, grunting in your ear and whimpering your name.
“Sooo… f-ahh-ucking t-tight…” he whispers. 
A hand slides between your sweaty bodies, a thumb rubbing familiar circles against your swollen clit. You cry out, clenching down like a vice. 
“F-Fuck, princess.” 
His thrusts rock your body and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the air. You feel that familiar coil begin to form, to heat at your core. Your muscles tighten and your legs begin to shake. 
“Atta girl. Cum on my cock, baby.” 
You whimper at the praise, at the incessant rubbing of your clit, at the relentless pounding of your cervix. It’s all too much, too good. 
“Satoru…” you cry. Your legs burn and ache. Satoru has your knees pressed so tightly to your chest you’re afraid something might snap. It only adds to the tension beginning to unravel at your center. You feel as if you’re burning, as if you’re going to snap– and then you do. Heat unravels beneath your skin and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Your legs tremble and your toes curl and you vaguely hear your husband whispering a mix of curses and praises in your ear. You’re still lost in the sensation when he starts groaning and you feel him flooding your insides with shallow thrusts close to your cervix, filling you with rope after rope of his hot cum. You’re still panting when you finally regain your mind. Satoru’s still on top of you, completely limp with his head buried in your neck. You curl a hand into his hair, silently holding him close. That was some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You smirk. Yeah, maybe this baby-making business wasn’t going to be so bad. 
You shiver when you feel Satoru licking and sucking at your skin. There’s a tenderness in the action that makes you pull him closer. He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but you can already feel him hardening inside you, ready for another round. 
“Think it stuck?” he asks. You smirk and answer with a breathy laugh. 
“Don’t know.” Silently, you think that there’s no way it didn’t. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs and there’s just so much of it.
He lifts his head, eyes bright and sparkling even in the dim light. He grins. “Guess we’d better make sure.” 
~
With the rate at which Satoru fucks you it’s no surprise when you get two positive little pink lines a few week later. You tell Satoru by unceremoniously dropping the test in front of him while he’s drinking his morning coffee. He only grins and kisses you before he bends you over the counter, whispering something about needing to show you how appreciative he is when he slides inside you. The next morning you wake to Satoru’s lips on yours, a brand new credit card, and a new car in the driveway, fitted with all of the newest safety features (only the best for his wife and baby, he says). You sigh and smile when you see it. Yeah, this whole baby-making business definitely wasn’t so bad.
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starsofang · 7 months ago
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CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE
pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.
You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.
Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.
“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.
“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.
“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.
It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.
So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.
“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.
Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”
“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”
“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”
This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”
The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.
The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.
“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”
Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.
He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.
“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.
“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”
“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”
He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.
“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”
You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”
Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.
You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.
With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.
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You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.
Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.
Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.
Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.
As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.
Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.
The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.
There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.
You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.
Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.
“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.
The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.
Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.
“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.
The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.
“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.
Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.
“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.
As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.
Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.
But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.
Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.
A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.
“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”
Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.
“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”
Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.
Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.
“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.
It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.
Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.
The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.
“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”
Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.
The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.
Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.
“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.
“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”
“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”
Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.
Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.
As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.
You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.
Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.
“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.
You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.
“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”
The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.
By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.
Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.
Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.
You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.
The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.
It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.
Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.
“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.
Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.
“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.
Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.
Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.
“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”
Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”
Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.
You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.
Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.
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solxamber · 2 months ago
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Promises in Moonlight || Malleus Draconia
You've chosen Malleus!
Falling for Malleus was like finding warmth in the heart of Briar Valley's mist—slow, unyielding, and all-consuming.
Prologue ; 1k Masterlist
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You’ve finally decided to take Malleus up on his invitation. After debating for what feels like forever (and Grim mocking you for "acting like a smitten fool"), you pull out your phone and text him, "I’d love to go for that walk with you!"
The reply you get is instant, as if Malleus had been sitting with his phone, eagerly awaiting your response:
"Dearest Child of Man, your acceptance fills me with an immeasurable sense of joy. I shall meet you at the courtyard shortly. Together, we will bask in the serenity of the night, under the gentle watch of the stars. Until then, may your anticipation for our evening be as bright as the moon above."
You can’t help but laugh. It’s the most Malleus text ever. It’s endearing in that formal, poetic, almost ancient way of his, and you feel warmth blooming in your chest as you quickly send a more casual, "Can’t wait :)" back to him.
Fast forward to later that evening, and Malleus arrives at Ramshackle Dorm. He’s looking as regal as ever, his usual air of authority softened by the way he looks at you. It’s not often you see Malleus trying to be cute, but he’s definitely putting in the effort. Before you can greet him properly, Grim trots up to Malleus with his chest puffed out.
"Hear me out, Tall, Dark, and Spooky," Grim begins, sounding like he’s about to bestow a grave responsibility, "You better keep my henchhuman safe tonight. If anything happens to ‘em, I’ll… I’ll bite your ankles or somethin’!"
You glance sideways at Grim, trying not to snicker. Malleus blinks once, twice, then solemnly nods. "Fear not, small creature," he says, placing a hand over his heart. "I shall protect them as though they were a rare treasure."
Grim gives a self-satisfied nod, satisfied with Malleus’s promise, but mutters under his breath, "Better be careful with those big words, pal. You’ll confuse yourself."
Malleus, seemingly oblivious to Grim’s muttering, reaches into his coat pocket and produces a delicate, ethereal flower that looks like it was plucked straight from a fairy tale. He offers it to you with a small, proud smile. "I thought this would suit you."
You accept the flower, grinning. "It’s beautiful. But… I’m going to put it in my hair so I can hold your hand instead."
Malleus blinks, looking a bit caught off guard but quickly recovering. "Of course." His eyes light up as he helps you tuck the flower into your hair, then immediately offers you his hand.
As your fingers intertwine with his, you catch a glimpse of Malleus looking rather pleased with himself. The two of you set off on your walk, and the cool night air feels refreshing as you stroll through the nearly deserted campus.
The silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s peaceful. You walk in step with Malleus, both of you just existing in the shared space. Occasionally, you glance over at him, and he meets your gaze with a small smile, looking like he’s perfectly content just to be here with you.
After a while, Malleus breaks the silence. "I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve arranged for something a little… special tonight," he says, his tone carrying just a hint of mystery.
"Oh? What kind of ‘special’?" you ask, curiosity piqued.
"You’ll see soon enough." There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leads you to Diasomnia.
The moment you step inside, you’re hit with a scene that is, frankly, a chaotic masterpiece. The room has been transformed—or rather, overrun—with blankets, pillows, and a massive screen set up at the front. It looks like a makeshift home theater… if home theaters had Malleus-themed decorations plastered everywhere.
Sebek, naturally, is standing near the entrance, looking way too serious for a casual movie night. You spot Silver, slouched on a couch, looking like he’s already resigned to his fate. And then there’s Lilia, standing proudly beside what can only be described as an abomination of a dish.
"Welcome!" Lilia says, grinning as you take in the scene. "I’ve prepared a meal that will enhance your movie-watching experience!"
"By enhance, do you mean threaten our health?" Silver mutters under his breath.
Lilia just winks at you. "It’s a very special recipe. A relic of ancient times!"
"More like an ancient curse," Silver mumbles, though he doesn’t even try to argue anymore.
You bite back a laugh, eyeing the dish with mild suspicion. It’s bubbling. You’re pretty sure it shouldn’t be bubbling.
"Yeah, I think I’ll pass on the ancient relic stew, but thanks," you say diplomatically, backing away just a little.
Malleus, meanwhile, is over by the movie selection, poring over the options like he’s deciding on the fate of the universe.
While you wait, you notice the posters—of Malleus. Everywhere. "Sebek," you say slowly, "why… are there so many Malleus posters?"
Sebek, looking proud as ever, gestures grandly at the posters. "It’s only fitting to surround ourselves with the greatness of Lord Malleus during such a significant event!"
"You mean… movie night?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Every moment spent in Lord Malleus’s presence is significant!" Sebek declares, his voice booming through the room.
You glance at Silver, who’s barely staying awake on the couch. "You’re just… going to let this happen?" you ask him.
Silver shrugs, not even opening his eyes. "I tried. He wouldn’t listen."
Meanwhile, Lilia sidles up to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Isn’t this just the most romantic setting? Blankets, pillows, and the gentle glow of Malleus-themed lighting?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively.
You roll your eyes, but can’t help but laugh. "Very romantic," you say dryly. "Nothing says ‘date night’ like staring at your date’s face plastered on every surface."
Malleus returns, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him, and gently takes your hand. "I believe I’ve found the perfect movie for us," he says.
You nod, smiling up at him, and soon the others—after a bit more banter (and an exaggerated wink from Lilia)—excuse themselves, leaving you and Malleus alone. Well, alone except for the giant Malleus plushie you’ve decided to cuddle.
"You’re… quite fond of that plushie," Malleus remarks, clearly amused as you hug it to your chest.
You grin. "What can I say? It’s cute. Though the real thing is a lot more handsome."
Malleus chuckles softly, his voice low and warm. "I’m glad you think so."
The movie begins, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so comfortable, leaning against Malleus with the plushie in your arms. His presence is soothing, his warmth comforting, and before you know it, you’re resting your head on his shoulder.
Malleus tenses slightly at first, then relaxes, letting out a contented sigh. His fingers gently trace circles on your hand, and you can feel the smile tugging at his lips even though you’re not looking directly at him.
By the time the movie ends, you’re both so relaxed that moving feels like an unnecessary chore. But, eventually, Malleus stands and offers his hand to help you up.
"Shall I walk you back to your dorm?" he asks, his tone as soft as the night air outside.
You nod, still clutching the Malleus plushie. "I’m keeping this, by the way."
Malleus looks genuinely pleased. "I’m honored that you would want a keepsake of me."
You laugh softly, feeling a bit giddy as the two of you walk back to Ramshackle, hand in hand. The stars twinkle overhead, but all you can focus on is the warmth of Malleus’s hand in yours.
When you reach the dorm, Malleus stops at the entrance, gently lifting your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. "I hope you enjoyed our evening," he says, his voice low and sincere.
Your heart flutters, but before you can overthink it, you lean forward and kiss him on the cheek. "I did," you say, grinning. Then, with a quick wave, you bounce inside, feeling giddy and lighthearted.
Behind you, Malleus watches with that same soft, fond smile—the one that makes you feel like you’re the one who hung the moon and stars in the sky.
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You’re making friendship bracelets. A totally normal, human, dorm-room craft project that you figured would be a simple way to spend time with Malleus. Only, you didn't realize that trying to explain the concept of “friendship bracelets” to a fae prince would result in the single most baffling night of his life.
“...so, wait.” He holds up the half-done bracelet, staring at it like it’s a cryptic relic. “This braided string will signify… a bond?”
You nod enthusiastically, handing him another bead. “Yep! It’s a human tradition. It means you’re, like, symbolically connected, so whenever you look at the bracelet, you remember the person who made it for you.”
He stares at the half-finished bracelet with grave intensity, as if he’s holding a sacred relic. “So, this… strand of colored threads… will tether me to you, even in times when we are apart?”
You nod again, trying not to giggle. “Exactly. Just a cute, little reminder of our friendship.”
He considers this with such solemnity that you can practically see him pondering the metaphysical implications of colored yarn.
“What magic does it require?” he asks after a beat, fully serious.
You blink. “Magic? Oh, it doesn’t need magic. It’s… just a bracelet.”
His brow furrows, and he holds up his attempt at weaving, which, frankly, looks more like a knotted ball than anything close to a bracelet. “I see. So, human enchantments rely on symbolism rather than spells.”
You bite back a laugh. “Uh… sure. Yeah, it’s symbolic magic.”
“Fascinating.” He looks down at his tangled knot of yarn, nodding solemnly. “Then I must ensure my own… symbol is woven with the utmost care. For a bond such as ours, it must not unravel.”
You’re halfway through yours when you realize he’s been muttering to himself, beads and string in hand, whispering things like, “May this braid carry my promise of loyalty” and “I vow to protect our bond with the same devotion I would give the throne.”
He even brings his hand to his heart at one point, closing his eyes with the bracelet pressed to his chest. You’re struggling not to laugh as he gives what is essentially a formal vow to the bracelet.
“Malleus,” you say, finally unable to hold it in, “you know it’s just a bracelet, right? You don’t have to swear a whole oath.”
He looks up, slightly flustered. “Ah… right. Of course.” He clears his throat, but there’s a bit of a pink tinge to his cheeks. “Well… if it carries the weight of our connection, I should still approach it with appropriate respect.”
You shake your head, suppressing a smile. “It’s honestly perfect just as it is.”
He holds out the knotted, lopsided braid he’s made, eyes gleaming. “Then, I present to you, my friendship… symbol.”
You accept it with a grin, tying it on. “Thanks, Malleus. This might be the most intense friendship bracelet I’ve ever gotten.”
“Of course,” he replies, smiling gently. “It is a pledge. And… I’ll think of you, whenever I see it.”
You bite back a laugh again, but honestly, his sincerity is so endearing you might just melt on the spot. And as you look at the knotted, chaotic masterpiece on your wrist, you realize you’ve never loved a bracelet more.
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You were desperate. No, really—absolutely desperate. Lilia was busy with some mysterious “business,” and Silver had fallen asleep before you even got your full sentence out. That left…Sebek.
But you thought maybe, just maybe, you could get him to help you pick out a gift for Malleus if you praised Malleus enough to keep him distracted and maybe, hopefully, get him to leave you alone once you found something.
Sebek, however, wasn’t budging from your side.
“This is a sacred duty!” he announced, as you entered the gift shop. “For you to bring a gift worthy of Lord Malleus’s greatness, I shall assist! Do not think of slacking in this matter!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you muttered under your breath. Oh, this was going to be a long day.
You wander through the aisles and spot a black dragon statuette. You figure, hey, it’s got that draconic charm Malleus likes, and it’s nice enough without screaming “I tried way too hard.”
“What about this?” you suggest.
Sebek’s nose wrinkles like you just offered him expired milk. “This common tchotchke? Lord Malleus deserves something that reflects the grandiosity of his soul! This is but a disgrace!”
“...Okay,” you mumble, quickly putting the dragon back. “Noted. Next one.”
You take a deep breath, determined not to give up. You find a beautiful leather-bound book, the kind with fancy gold embossing that practically screams “I have depth and culture.” Perfect for Malleus, right?
Sebek looks at it, raises an eyebrow, and says with all the judgment he can muster, “A book? This is not some back-alley rummage sale! Lord Malleus is no mere scholar—he is a being of power and mystery. A mere book is not worthy!”
You’re starting to get a headache. “Sebek, this isn’t a sacred quest. It’s just a gift.”
Sebek crosses his arms. “Then act like it!”
You’re mentally calculating how long it would take to just make a break for it when you spot a crystal snow globe on a nearby shelf. It’s got a tiny castle inside with delicate little frosted details and swirling glitter. Pretty cute, honestly.
“What about this one?” You hold it up, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.
Sebek stares at the snow globe, visibly appalled. “A snow globe? Are you trying to insinuate that Lord Malleus is some… carnival trinket vendor? This is an insult!”
You try to control your breathing. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Finally, you turn to him with a smile that’s about five seconds from breaking. “Sebek, it has been a pleasure. But I think I’ll, uh… figure it out myself from here.”
You barely hear him as he starts to object because you’re already halfway out the door.
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Back at Ramshackle, an idea hits you. If you can’t find a gift, you can make one. After scouring the dorm for supplies, you somehow put together a makeshift snow globe with a tiny gargoyle inside, swirling in blue and silver glitter. It’s definitely handmade, but you’re sure Malleus will appreciate it.
Later that evening, you meet Malleus outside, heart pounding a bit as you hold out the homemade snow globe. “I… made this for you,” you say, offering it up.
Malleus takes it, eyes wide with wonder as he examines it, turning it in his hands to watch the glitter float around the little gargoyle. “Did you… make this yourself?”
“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “Figured you’d like it. And hey, it’s one of a kind, so… now you have something no one else does.”
Malleus’s expression softens, his smile growing into something that practically melts your heart. “Are you… courting me?” he asks, his tone almost mischievous.
You snort. “I am, actually. Thought I’d ask you out…again. Officially.”
Malleus’s eyes light up, and he pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you as if you’re the rarest treasure. “Then I graciously accept,” he says, his voice warm with laughter.
Sebek’s probably going to be horrified, but that’s a problem for future you. Right now, Malleus is looking at you with an expression that says you’re all he’s ever wanted, and that’s more than enough.
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Malleus Draconia storming into the infirmary was a sight to behold. The door nearly flew off its hinges as he strode in, casting a long shadow over the entire room. Rain poured against the windows like someone had flipped on a faucet, lightning crackling ominously outside as he zeroed in on you with eyes that could’ve cut glass.
“Child of Man,” he intoned, voice a few shades too deep and dark. “I heard you were hurt.”
You, sitting up on the infirmary bed, waved a hand quickly. “Malleus, I’m fine! I’m totally fine! Ace actually took most of the fall for me.”
At that, Malleus’s intense gaze shifted to Ace, who was lying in the bed next to you, bruised, bandaged, and looking a bit like a disaster but still somehow smug. His grin only widened as Malleus took him in, and for once, Ace didn’t seem to have any wisecracks. Not yet, at least.
“Really, I’m okay, Malleus,” you reassured him again, reaching out to gently tug on his sleeve, trying to bring him back to reality. “It was just… a minor accident.”
Malleus let out a breath, his shoulders finally relaxing, and the rain outside softened to a drizzle. But when he saw Ace's injuries, a faint gleam of green magic sparked in his eyes. With a murmured spell, Malleus extended a hand over Ace, and a warm green light enveloped him, healing the bruises and cuts in seconds.
Ace blinked, absolutely dumbfounded as he patted himself down, looking at his newly healed skin. “Woah, hold on. Did… did I just get fae-healed?” He threw a proud glance at Deuce, who looked equally impressed.
“Guess saving someone as important as the prefect has its perks, huh?” Ace grinned, milking the moment for all it was worth.
Deuce elbowed him, eyes wide. “Dude, you got a fae to use magic on you! That’s like… that’s gotta be worth something!”
Malleus, however, seemed completely unaware of their astonishment. He turned back to you, his expression softening. “I’m relieved to see you unharmed, but perhaps we should consider… measures to avoid this in the future.”
You tilted your head, a bit wary of his tone. “Measures?”
“Yes.” Malleus nodded, serious as ever. “I will procure a shield for you. Perhaps one enchanted with protective charms, powerful enough to withstand nearly any impact.” His hand closed over yours, his gaze softening but his words completely, utterly sincere. “I’d rather not see you in danger again.”
At this, you couldn’t hold back a snicker. “A… shield? Malleus, that’s sweet, but I think a little protective magic might be overkill.”
“Absolutely not,” Malleus replied, as if you’d suggested something truly absurd. “Or perhaps I should assign a member of my guard to you. It would be a temporary arrangement, of course.”
Ace, never one to let an opportunity slip by, piped up. “Oooh, how about Sebek? He’d follow them around like a watchdog. ‘Human, beware of the tripping hazard!’ ‘Human', allow me to carry your books to avoid any injury!’”
You laughed so hard at the impression that you nearly slid off the bed. Deuce tried his best to look like he was keeping it together, but the way his shoulders shook betrayed him.
Malleus, apparently unfazed by your amusement, looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “You mock my concerns, yet I believe this is a practical solution.”
“Oh, I know you do,” you said, wiping your eyes. “But, trust me. I’ll be okay without a magical shield or a Sebek bodyguard. Especially since, well…” You softened, leaning into his chest and giving his back a comforting pat. “You’re here to keep me safe, aren’t you?”
The room went still as Malleus’s expression softened even further, his entire face lighting up at your words. The last of the rain disappeared, leaving only a golden sunset spilling light through the windows.
Meanwhile, Ace watched the two of you with a half-joking pout. “Damn. Imagine being favored by a fae prince and dropping that kind of romantic line. If only Malleus was this concerned with my safety.”
Deuce crossed his arms, pretending to ponder. “You think we could get fae security if we also hung out with the prefect all the time?”
Grim, who’d been lounging on your bed, rolled his eyes. “Listen, you two can argue all you want, but I’m the one who gets the most danger-protection, and don’t you forget it!”
Ignoring the three, you glanced back at Malleus. “Seriously, I don’t need any magic armor, Malleus. As long as you’re around, I’ll be okay.”
For a moment, Malleus just looked at you, a rare and breathtaking smile spreading across his face. Slowly, he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss there, the gentleness of the gesture stealing your breath.
“I shall remain, then,” he murmured, his voice as warm as the sunset. “Though my offer still stands should you ever change your mind.”
You grinned, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. “Noted, Your Highness. I’ll let you know.”
With a parting wink and one last hand squeeze, Malleus let you settle back, his gaze lingering on you with an affectionate warmth that softened all the edges of his normally intense demeanor. If you’d known he’d go this far over one little mishap, maybe you’d have considered more dangerous hobbies just to see that side of him.
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The rain was no ordinary downpour, that much was certain. It came in waves, sweeping across the campus like a brewing tempest, soaking students to the bone if they dared step outside. But as the day dragged on and the storm grew more intense, you were pretty sure you knew who was behind it.
You’d tried calling Malleus several times—three missed calls, four, five… and each time, the rain seemed to pour harder. You knew this wasn't just a storm; it was his storm, and whatever caused it had to be serious. When Malleus finally didn’t answer his phone on the sixth call, you felt your worry rise and dialed Lilia instead.
“Ah, you’ve noticed?” Lilia’s voice came through, light but with a hint of concern. “Malleus isn’t usually this… temperamental. Why don’t you come by Diasomnia? I think you might be able to reach him better than anyone right now.”
As the rain continued pounding outside, Lilia whisked you to the dark halls of Diasomnia, both of you making your way to Malleus’s dorm room. You raised your hand and knocked, waiting. Nothing. You glanced at Lilia, who gave you an encouraging nod. You turned the handle slowly, easing the door open.
Inside, Malleus was seated by his window, staring out at the rain-soaked world like some tragic hero in a romance novel. His usually strong and dignified presence seemed... deflated. His shoulders were hunched, and his entire form looked as if it was weighed down by an unseen burden.
"Malleus?" you said gently.
He turned, his eyes widening just slightly at the sight of you. But then his gaze dropped, and he returned to staring out at the rain. “Why did you come?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re clearly upset,” you replied, crossing the room to stand by his side.
He stayed quiet for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. “I overheard some students talking… about us,” he said slowly, bitterness edging his words. “They said our relationship is… impossible. That it won’t last because we’re too different. That you’d never want to live somewhere like Briar Valley… and that—” His voice broke slightly, and he hesitated. “That no human in their right mind would choose a life there with me.”
His words felt like a dagger, and you could see the depth of his hurt in the way he clenched his hands. The thought of him hearing such hurtful things from people who didn't even know him, didn’t know you, sparked something protective in you. You sat down beside him, reaching out to place your hand over his.
“Malleus, those people don’t know anything,” you said softly but firmly. “They only see what they want to see. But they don’t see you.”
“But… they aren’t wrong, are they?” His voice was so low it almost broke your heart. “Briar Valley is… a kingdom of fae, ancient and isolated. And I… I am not like you. I am seen as a figure of fear by many.”
“Stop it.” You squeezed his hand, forcing him to look at you. “Malleus, you’re not ‘gloomy’ or ‘scary.’ You’re thoughtful and kind. And as for Briar Valley…” You took a deep breath, your eyes shining. “I’d follow you to a volcano if you asked me to, Malleus. And Briar Valley sounds lovely in comparison.”
He blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. “You… mean that?”
“Of course I do.” You felt a smile tugging at your lips, leaning closer to him. “Malleus, I’m… I’m in love with you. I don’t care about where we are, as long as we’re together. Besides, I’d visit my friends; it’s not like I’d be vanishing off the face of the earth.”
He stared at you, wide-eyed, as if you’d just declared the moon was his for the taking. “You… love me?” His voice was barely a whisper, disbelief and hope warring in his gaze.
You squeezed his hand tighter. “Yes, you big dramatic dragon, I do. I love you exactly as you are.” Then, unable to resist, you smiled and added, “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. And, if I’m being honest, I think you make a perfect Prince Charming.”
At that, he let out a surprised chuckle, one that you felt all the way to your heart. The rain began to lighten outside, but Malleus wasn’t finished yet. “But… would you truly want to come with me to Briar Valley after graduation?” he asked, searching your face, as if afraid the answer might change.
Your lips curved into a teasing smile. “Is that a proposal, Malleus?”
He blinked, looking at you with such intense sincerity that it made you catch your breath. “Perhaps it is… if that is what you desire.”
You couldn’t help it; you laughed, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Malleus, let’s take this one step at a time. It’s a little too early for marriage, but yes… I’ll come with you. No hesitation.”
Relief washed over his face, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he let out a long, contented sigh. Then, before you knew it, he was cupping your face gently, pulling you close, and pressing his lips softly against yours, his touch filled with both relief and quiet joy. You melted into the kiss, feeling the world around you fall away.
When you finally pulled back, you stayed wrapped up in each other, Malleus resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice as soft as the rain beginning to stop outside.
And then, as if by magic, the sun began to peek through the clouds. You glanced out the window and gasped—a beautiful rainbow stretched across the sky, its colors bright and vivid against the softening gray.
Outside in the hallway, Lilia noticed the sudden sunlight flooding through the windows. He smirked, crossing his arms as he gazed out at the sky. “Well now,” he murmured to himself with a knowing smile. “It seems the storm has finally passed.”
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Briar Valley's winding paths had become second nature to you. From the thorn-laden trees to the misty moors, it was all oddly comforting now, a world you’d somehow made your own despite the constant whispers of “That magicless human will last a month, tops.”
Yet here you were, strolling with Silver and Grim by your side, perfectly at ease as the Fae here had learned to both respect you and—surprisingly enough—grow fond of you. Perhaps it was your persistence, or maybe the sight of how Malleus practically glowed around you had softened their opinion. Regardless, Silver’s calm, quiet presence made the walk feel almost peaceful.
Silver’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Would you take a detour with me for a moment?”
“Uh… sure.” You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t ignore the curiosity blooming inside.
Grim, still trotting alongside you, glanced up with a huff. “If it’s not back to the palace for a feast, count me out. I’m starving!”
He took you off the main path, weaving through a side route cloaked in the kinds of flowers that only seemed to bloom under the moonlight, until you reached the garden.
You noticed the unmistakable glimmer of fae lights strung up along the branches, casting an enchanting glow. Beneath them was a breathtaking arrangement: intricate flowers, delicate linens, and candles flickering gently as if they held their own breath, waiting.
“Silver… what’s this?” you turned to him, only to find he’d vanished, leaving you alone. Grim, however, was very much there, sitting and squinting at the setup as if trying to make sense of it.
“You think he’d at least stick around to explain,” Grim muttered, tail twitching.
Your heart raced, realizing exactly what this setup meant before even seeing him.
And then, as if stepping straight out of a fairytale, Malleus appeared. His dark attire blended almost seamlessly into the night, but his eyes were alive with a glint that made him stand out against everything else. You swallowed, feeling your pulse thud as he lowered himself onto one knee, reaching out to you with a small velvet box in hand.
“Will you—”
You were already nodding so vigorously that he chuckled, his deep voice warm and delighted as he tried to finish. “I have barely started, my love.”
“Sorry, sorry! I’m listening,” you said, though your feet were already itching to close the distance.
“Will you marry me?” His voice was low, intimate, every word wrapping around you as if sealing the two of you together. You swore the whole garden held its breath as the weight of his question sank in.
“Yes!” You practically launched yourself into his arms, the momentum nearly sending him off balance. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed a kiss to his lips, almost dizzy with excitement. He held you firmly, and you could feel his smile against your mouth as he returned the kiss, slow and heartfelt.
When you finally pulled back, catching your breath, you heard the sound of clapping—raucous, joyous applause. Looking over, you spotted Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and Grim, all watching with varying degrees of excitement. Lilia wore a proud, delighted grin, and even Silver looked softer than usual.
Sebek, meanwhile, was visibly struggling to hold back tears, sniffing and blinking rapidly. “My prince… has found his beloved…”
Lilia cackled, nudging him with a wicked grin. “Oh, Sebek! Who would’ve thought you’d be the emotional one? How poetic!”
“I am not emotional!” Sebek said, wiping his eyes. “I’m simply… moved by the occasion!”
Silver shook his head, though his smile remained gentle as he murmured, “Welcome to the family.”
And then there was Grim, who was glaring daggers at anyone who dared glance in his direction. “Pfft… it’s… it’s not like I care, or anything. Dust got in my eyes, that’s all,” he grumbled, pawing at his face, though his sniffling was obvious.
“Oh, Grim,” you laughed, reaching over to scratch behind his ears. He let out a small, begrudging purr, though he immediately caught himself and huffed, turning his back on you all with an indignant “Hmph.”
Malleus turned to them, unable to hide his own joy as he held you close. “Thank you, all of you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Your eyes twinkle with mischief as you add, “I suppose you three can’t get rid of me now.”
Malleus chuckles, and Lilia grinned, placing a hand on his chest as he gave you a dramatic bow. “We wouldn’t dream of it. I mean, you’re the only one who’s managed to survive here, make Malleus happy, and deal with Sebek. That alone earns you a medal.”
Sebek opened his mouth, clearly ready to defend himself, but Silver beat him to it with a subtle nudge. “Come on, Sebek. You know it’s true.”
“Fine, but—” Sebek cut himself off with a sigh, his expression softening once more. “I am happy for you, truly.”
You beamed, touched by the sincerity in his voice. You knew Sebek’s respect wasn’t easy to earn, but it made the moment even more meaningful.
Lilia clapped his hands together, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, the Briar Valley will be singing tales of this day for centuries. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Lilia,” Malleus said, a warning in his tone. “Please don’t exaggerate.”
“Oh, I don’t need to exaggerate,” Lilia said with a gleeful grin, his eyes alight with a hundred mischievous ideas. “You’ve done that for me by being your overly poetic self. ‘The magicless one who tamed the dragon prince’ will practically write itself.”
“Perhaps we could skip the ‘taming’ part,” you muttered, blushing at Lilia’s teasing. But you caught Malleus’s gaze, and the depth of emotion there silenced everything else.
He pulled you close, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We can let them say whatever they wish,” he murmured, his voice for your ears alone. “So long as you’re by my side.”
“Always,” you whispered back, and as his arms held you close, you glanced over to see the others clapping and cheering—and yes, even Grim was sitting proudly beside Silver, nodding as if this had all been his doing.
The future had never looked brighter.
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DPXDC prompt. Adult!Danny x Sleep-deprived!Constantine: We seem to have a misunderstanding.
Warlock was willing to admit that the Phantom’s company was mostly useful and not unpleasant. Because of the specifics of his work they had to meet quite often. It was nice to be at least a little sure that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the back. The new ghost king seemed to be amused by the World of the Living and that was quite useful. In addition, the Infinite Realms had a history of endless conflicts with Hell, so when demons was messing with him, Phantom was happy to put sticks in their wheels.
However, the current enemy of the League was another alien. Both John and Phantom happened to be nearby. But it seems ghost had no reason to help Hellblazer now, as this fight had nothing to do with his kingdom. Given that Batman had explicitly instructed John to stay on the battlefield, it seemed that if John Constantine wanted to count on a weekend, he would have to use his trump card now.
Constantine: In view of the urgency of the situation, I would like to make a proposal. Life offers many challenges. I know I can meet them if you're willing to face them with me. In the spirit of saving time..[holding up a ring] This is for you. You in?
Phantom: I..I don’t know, John. I mean i want to say yes but It’s all so sudden. Please gimme some time to think, okay? And let me help to deal with these invaders first and then we’ll talk about it.
John: ..Sure?
~~~~~
Tucker: Whoa crazy battle dude. John: Civilians are not allowed here. Danny: It's all right. We were going to meet at a cafe, but now, well, there is no cafe. I mean, he's with me and not so civilian, okay?Ehem..John, meet my best friend Tucker. Tucker, meet my..Em, this is John, and he's kinda my John. It's new for us.
Damn. He was in a hurry and offered more than he should have. It turns out the ghost had an interest in protecting the city. It is unlikely that he would allow the destruction of the place where one of his humans lives.
And worst of all, Phantom did not accept the ring (for which John had to hunt for several months) as payment. Constantine got it specially in case he needed a favor or a way to calm the anger of the spirit he was starting to get along with. Like, really, John spent a fair amount to own the artifact which would have neutralized the consequences of wearing a ring of rage. But Ghost didn’t want it? Why? And yet he helped. So John was in debt.
And how it's all at a bad time. The peace treaty and the treaty of cooperation between the States and the Infinite Realms was concluded only recently. Of course John didn't even have time to discuss the terms of their deal because the blushing ghost flew away to fight but to say that he won't pay for the service is like admitting that you want to start a new conflict. Constantine was starting to have a headache. He'll think about it when he gets at least a couple of hours of sleep. Whatever payment the ghost needs, it can wait a couple of hours.
~~~~~
But as it turned out, the ghost couldn’t make up his mind and decide what he wanted from him. He started showing up at John’s place and looking at him thoughtfully, also recently dragged him to pick out a suit. How he could be mistaken for a stylist John did not understand but preferred not to unnerve a potential ally.
Moreover, for some reason the chaotic creature decided that he had the right to condemn John for always forgetting to have dinner or take a bath. This scoundrel dared to lock him in a bathroom with strange scented candles and colored water. Whatever these bath bombs were, dumb spirit failed to poison him but now John smelled like peaches. Disgusting.
After breaking down the door he found the same mess with candles on the kitchen table. Phantom fought a fierce battle with the green goo in the pot that he brought to John's house, but eventually gave up and they ordered delivery. All in all, it was a pleasant evening. Of course John didn't admit it but for some reason Danny decided that he could make such a mess every Friday.
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~~~~~
Danny: So..me and Morningstar are friends now. Do you mind? I know you don’t get along very well. John: Why should I care? Your friends are your business. Considering you’re crazy about the stars I’m surprised you’re not sleeping with their maker.
Danny: Hell no, Lightbringer is great. And I’m glad he’s sharing with me what I wouldn’t find in books but I would never cheat on my partner. John: Good to know. (Wow, who knew the Phantom has a lover.)
~~~~~
Morningstar: I have no idea what you see in this arrogant man, stardust.
Phantom: I don’t know. It’s interesting to be around him. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And his determination and sarcastic nature are really charming.
Morningstar: Well, I’ll get rid of some of his contracts for your wedding but only because I like you and not because I’m willing to deal with this liar.
Phantom: Thanks, Luci,  you’re the best.
Morningstar:That’s true. But it's not free. I need you as a babysitter to keep Spawn busy while, well, Detective and I are busy.
Phantom: No problem :)
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redwineandtarot · 9 months ago
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your future spouse's first impression of you
hi! after a long time i am back with another reading❣️ i asked spirit using the term fs but you can use this for soulmates as well. please remember we have free will, i am just reading energies so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3
🥀paid readings🥀
Disclaimer: My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.
pick a pile
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piles 1-2-3
all pictures are from pinterest.
pile 1
They will think that you are a selfless person. And that you are always ready to help others. Or fight for your values. But in a subtle way. To them you have a calming aura. They will also see you as someone reserved, someone who prefers to keep to themselves and speak less. From the first impression, you are someone who is a bit passive. 
They will think that you have a rich inner self. However you seem to be avoiding it. I don't really know what exactly this is but your fs will be confused as to why you are avoiding this amazing part of you.
You have a mystic and wise energy to you. And to them you look like someone that trusts the universe (or whatever you believe in). You also seem mysterious to them. They will be intrigued by you and will want to know more about you. Maybe it's because you are somewhat different from them. Like they may be an atheist and you may be a pagan or you two may come from different cultures etc. This difference will spark their interest in you. Because to them, you bring a different outlook on life.
They will think that you know how to balance things and can see the different parts of a situation. They will think that you try to be fair.
I don't know how your person will see this but they will think that you accept change as it is and with peace. Maybe it's your calm demeanor that made them think this way.
They will see you as someone who takes a lot on their plate. Maybe you struggle with saying no and end up helping everyone even if it burdens you. Or it's just the way they see you.
Around the time you first meet them you may be very busy. Also you or them (or both) maybe in your 30s. And you may have a 2 year age gap for some of you.
your song: intro: singularity-bts
significant placements: libra, pluto, 3rd house aquarius, uranus, 12th house leo, south node, 4th house
thank you for reading ❤️
pile 2
They will see you as someone reliable and nurturing. You have an earthy vibe to you (also fiery), to them. You look like that friend who never leaves their friends alone in their hard times. 
They will think that you have a lot of potential in you. And already doing quite good in life. You move slowly while making decisions. You think before you act. However when you decide something you move swiftly and get what you want. You seem passionate to them. The line “I want it, I got it” from 7 rings-ariana grande is your line!
They will think that you are quite attracted to them, lmao. But they may think that you already have someone in your life. Again they make a lot of assumptions so you may have not said anything about this topic but still they just can't sit still lol. They think that you shine a lot so maybe that's why they assume you are not alone or at least people are chasing you. 
They will think that you have a lot to offer. Emotion and passion wise.
To them you are quite firm on your beliefs. For some of you they may see you have a debate with someone or you may have a debate with them in your first meeting. Or it's just something that will allow them to see your argumentative side. 🔞They will think that you are s3xy when you get all bossy(?) like that lol.
You seem like someone who is quite comfortable in their own skin. However they will see the hard work behind this confidence. Idk they will try to analyze a lot probably. Like try to see through you. You may have had to work hard to gain your confidence and maybe you were self conscious/had a low self esteem but worked hard and became who you are today. Again this is in their eyes.
Some of you here could have brownish-reddish hair here. Or will have that color when you meet your fs.
you got two songs: better by myself- hey violet, to me-alina baraz
significant placements: saturn, 2nd house, cancer south node, 7th house, leo south node, 11th house, libra
thank you for reading ❤️
pile 3
First of all, you may have a purple aura. I know this is a bit off topic but it came through.
You may have a darker aesthetic or may prefer darker colors on your clothes around the time you meet your fs. And they notice this. They may notice your legs and think that they are beautiful. Also I heard, boobs/chest area for some of you.
They will think that you know how to enjoy life and enjoy yourself. You have this nonchalant energy to them. And they see you as someone who is not afraid to express themselves and live authentically. You are at peace in life. You love your life and seem to enjoy it. To them, you are like a “no bs” person. 
Like your clothing, you may like/like to search about what society deems as “dark”, like occult etc.
They will think that you are a disciplined person. However at first they may understand you wrong, this discipline can seem like the will to win no matter what, to them. They may see you as someone who is defensive and does not accept their faults. Someone who is willing to do almost everything to win. However I am not seeing that this is the case with you. Because of this later they may be ashamed of themselves. 
You also seem somewhat unattainable and unpredictable to them. But it's not like you do stupid things. It's more like when they think they know you, you say something totally unexpected about yourself. 
You have this great personality inside you. For them to see this side of you may take a while. I am not saying they will hate you but they will be a bit judgemental of you. You seem like the life of the party and like you are an authentic person but you are also such a deep person. However nonchalant you seem, you also have worries. And you have such a strong and a soft person inside you. They will see this eventually and embrace every part of you.
(For some of you this judgment may be because they are a bit more of a reserved person)
your song: take me-miso
significant placements: taurus, 3rd house, uranus leo, 11th house, neptune capricorn, 12th house, mercury
thank you for reading ❤️
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call-me-strega · 1 year ago
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Dc x Dp Prompt #10: Inter-Dimensional Bake-Off
Alfred was checking the mail the manor had received that day when he found it. In between bills, fan mail, and company missives was a regal purple envelope addressed to one Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth. Intrigued, Alfred set aside the rest of the mail and sat to open the letter.
Inside was a high quality cardstock invitation of a metallic silver color decorated with luxurious midnight green script. It declared on the front:
“You Are Cordially Invited”
Alfred raised an eyebrow and flipped open card.
Dear, Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth You have been cordially invited to participate in the first annual inter-dimensional bake-off to celebrate the coronation of the young, King Phantom, age 21, Ruler of the Infinite Realms, the Great One, Protector of Souls, Keeper of Peace, The Perfect Balance, The Infinite King, Ancient of Space and Reality. We have discerned that you are among the top 25 bakers in the 11 most stable and prominent dimensions with an open connection to the Infinite Realms. Thus, we would like to offer you the opportunity to show off and test your skills against talented competitors. Should you accept, all transport, accommodation, amenities, materials, and potentially needed medical care shall be provided by the King and his court. If you would like to bring any specific ingredients or tools you are welcome to file a request for them when you arrive and they shall be summoned to you at the start of the competition. You are allowed one plus one either as an assistant or moral support. Should you have any questions please write them down and place them on the sigil on the next page and recite the incantation bellow: “bonvolu respondi mian demandon” The event shall occur in a fortnight upon the weekend before the kings official coronation ceremony. In order to confirm your participation in the competition please burn this letter with one of your most recently made baked goods. In order to decline simply dissolve this message under running water. Please confirm your attendance or absence within a week’s time. Kind Regards, the Council of Ancients Advisors to the Good King Phantom
Well, it seemed like Alfred had earned a place in a rather prestigious event. ‘It seems a finally have a reason to make use of all those vacation days Master Bruce keeps insisting I must utilize.’ He smiled to himself, tucking the letter into his pocket. ‘I wonder if Master Jason would be amicable to accompanying me for a weekend of baking in a magical dimension?’
~ Just in case anyone has trouble reading the letter:
Dear, Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth You have been cordially invited to participate in the first annual inter-dimensional bake-off to celebrate the coronation of the young, King Phantom, age 21, Ruler of the Infinite Realms, the Great One, Protector of Souls, Keeper of Peace, The Perfect Balance, The Infinite King, Ancient of Space and Reality. We have discerned that you are among the top 25 bakers in the 11 most stable and prominent dimensions with an open connection to the Infinite Realms. Thus, we would like to offer you the opportunity to show off and test your skills against talented competitors. Should you accept, all transport, accommodation, amenities, materials, and any potentially needed medical care shall be provided by the King and his court. If you would like to bring any specific ingredients or tools you are welcome to file a request for them when you arrive and they shall be summoned to you at the start of the competition. You are allowed one plus one either as an assistant or moral support. Should you have any questions please write them down and place them on the sigil on the next page and recite the incantation bellow: “bonvolu respondi mian demandon” The event shall occur in a fortnight upon the weekend before the kings official coronation ceremony. In order to confirm your participation in the competition please burn this letter with one of your most recently made baked goods. In order to decline simply dissolve this message under running water. Please confirm your attendance or absence within a week’s time. Kind Regards, the Council of Ancients Advisors to the Good King Phantom
The Esperanto translates to “please answer my question"
Edit: now with possible contestants
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