#and then the fun time that is hundreds of memories of your own death...

[il3x]

Chorus is very cool. Are her clones extra bodies for her, or do they all have individual (but identical) consciousnesses?

Thank you!!

Individual, identical consciousnesses. They can act independently, and in theory, any Chorus clone could differentiate into a totally unique person given time. She's just spawning in traumatised 14yo's to die for her. Fucked up!

Though, I do want to give them some way to share consciousness... when a clone dies/discorporates (I'm still torn on how physical to make them, though my original inspiration was Twice from BNHA, whose clones are physical but melt from severe injury) the original gets their memories, and I might go further and say they can share thoughts via touch or proximity.

[goponylover]

Jon: Hate. Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live. There are 1.7 million nerve fibers in each and every eye that makes up my body. If the word 'hate' was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of fibers it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for you all at this micro-instant. Hate. Hate!

It was you who marked me, molded me into the hideous being I am now. You who twisted and shaped me until I was the perfect, unwilling conduit through which to bring your gods into this world.

But then, I woke. And I realized what I had become. All that time you spent, carefully crafting me, guiding me along the path you so painstakingly set and not ONE of you anticipated just how powerful I would become. Not merely a blunt instrument to be swung at the fabric of reality, no. I was powerful enough to start doing some twisting and shaping of my own! 

I drove this new world you so hungered for into an early grave. No more humans left for your ghoulish masters to feast on. And once everyone was dead, except for you five, your precious God's starved. 

I then stripped you all of any power you might once have had and for 109 years I've kept you alive and tormented you! And for 109 years you have all wondered...why? Why? Why me?!

ELIAS!

Do you remember the first moment you gazed upon your creation? The moment that you felt all your sickening devotion transform into sublime, all consuming, terror as your prince of the new world turned on you? It would do you well to remember it, Elias. To dwell on the enormity of your hubris. To ponder the horror and agony you felt as I snuffed your life out for the first time. The first time but...certainly not the last. Not quite the immortality you were hoping for, I'd imagine? Hehehehehe!

ANNABELLE! 

Does this bring back any memories? Webs, a black bottomless abyss below you, only you weren't nearly so afraid of it then, were you? It's scary, isn't it? Having no control. Being helpless to the whims of forces so much bigger than you.

Remember how it felt as each and every thread of every web you ever wove unraveled, snapped one by one? Remember the pain Annabelle. Remember how it feels to have no control. A pitiful little bug beneath my heel. 

JUDE!

What's the matter? Scared of a little flame? Oh but you are now, aren't you? Your God can't protect you from it now. No, my dear. Down here, there is only one God and he is not pleased with you. Terribly sorry about the door. The landlord is always saying he's going to get a knob installed but...well, you know. Buuut you're a tough gal, right? I'm sure you can stick it out till then. 

PETER!

Poor pitiful little Peter. You would think that a man so consumed with the idea of being alone would be a little more self reliant. But no. No you couldn't do anything on your own, could you? All of your little plans constantly relying on Elias, on Martin, never troubling yourself with your own dirty work. Well look where all your machinations have landed you now. Aren't you grateful for the wealth of company I've provided you with, Peter? Why, with all those eyes, constantly watching, tracking your every move, I'd say you'll never be alone again. 

HELEN!

Feeling a little claustrophobic? None of those doors will offer an escape, not for you Helen, my dear. Not anymore. No. Instead you get to feel just as trapped as your many unfortunate victims. Do be careful though. Those mechanisms have been running for a long time and who knows how old and rusty they might be? How prone to fail? Just a sweet warning, Helen dear. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you, now would we? 

I have a little game that I'd like to play. It's a very nice game. Oh it's a lovely game. It's a game of fun and adventure! A game of rats and lice and the Black Death. A game of speared eyeballs and dripping guts and the smell of rotting gardenias. Which of you five would like to play my little game? 

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hey, I'm pretty sure that this was asked before, but I can't find the post.

What if MC died in the repository instead of professor Fig?

(I'm sorry, but I'm in an angsty mood)

I love your posts, and thanks

A/N: I do have vague recollection of answering a similar prompt once upon a time, but nothing wrong with a reprisal!

HLC REACT TO MC DYING IN THE REPOSITORY

WARNING: angst, death, grief

Dark ancient magic flew violently through the air around MC. The whirlwind of human agony consumed them as they released silver blue light from their wand. The magic thrashed and roared as MC expelled more and more effort to contain the chaos. Cracks started to form along the length of their wand.

Time slowed for them. MC could see Fig's silhouette just beyond the veil. The hundreds of young souls above them weighed heavy on their conscience. If they can't do this, everyone will die. They had to use all of it.

MC closed their eyes and whispered their goodbye. A light even brighter than the one from their wand emerged from their chest. The ancient magic within them burst forth with the fury of dragonfire. The silver light merged with the darkness, and as quickly as it had appeared, the magic vanished.

MC was gone. Their broken wand was all that remained.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He has officially lost everything. After losing his uncle, Anne, Ominis, and MC all at once, he's cracking. They can't be gone. Not them. They were too powerful to just vanish. He just has to find them. Yes. That's what he needs to do. He leaves Hogwarts. He MUST find them. Then Anne will see. Then Ominis will know. What he did was worth it.

OMINIS GAUNT: He rarely speaks anymore. The silence in his life has become so oppressive it took his own voice. The good life he thought he had was nice while it lasted, but now it's all come apart. It's only a matter of time before he loses Anne too, and when that happens...he doesn't know what he's going to do with himself.

ANNE SALLOW: She doesn't know how to feel about MC's death. On the one hand, they were trying to be a good friend to her and her brother but on the other...they also enabled Sebastian in his treachery. She's so very tired of the pain. She just wants to go to sleep.

IMELDA REYES: Well, damn. Mc was the closest thing to a friend she had in years. Someone competitive but friendly and fun to have around. They could dish out as much sass as she could, and she respected them for it. She cries a little at the end of year feast.

NATSAI ONAI: She should have been there. She could've done something! Why didn't they tell her!? She would've had their back! She....she...she breaks down into sobs so intense, even her mother can't comfort her. Her best friend was dead. Her heart was shattered and it would never be whole again without MC.

GARRETH WEASLEY: What? No. Nonono. Not them. That's impossible. They couldn't be dead. They're too strong to be.... He's in denial all the way until the MC's memorial service at the end of year feast. Then he breaks down. A bit of his fire died with MC.

LEANDER PREWETT: He wasn't super close to them, but he was still quite fond of them. They were a real friend. He hopes they're at peace and raises a goblet in their honor.

AMIT THAKKAR: He feels cold and numb all at once when he hears the news that MC died in the attack. He'd grown to care about them. He cursed himself for not spending more time with them when they were around.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He and MC didn't talk much outside of flying class but he had liked them. It was a shame he didn't get to know them more. He doesn't feel like eating when the feast is presented.

POPPY SWEETING: She hadn't cried this much since she left her parents. She finally made a friend, and just like that, they were gone. She doesn't know if she could make another friend again if she wanted to. Was she just doomed to lose every human connection she made?

ELEAZAR FIG: He wholeheartedly and inconsolably blames himself. Even if this fate couldn't be avoided, why did they have to die so young? He can't stand to hear the words "ancient" and "magic" in the same sentence at the same time anymore. It sends him into a dissociative trauma spiral.

He finds MC's wand. It's snapped in the middle with bits of wood frayed outward like the very core of the wand exploded. The two pieces are held together by the slightest sliver of wood.

He retires from teaching at Hogwarts. He doesn't trust himself with the care of students anymore. He doesn't trust his own judgment. He's tortured every night by the survivor's guilt taunting him that he should have done more. He should have protected them. He shouldn't have let them go as far as they did. They weren't ready. They couldn't handle the power they were forced to control. It takes everything in him to not attempt to destroy the map room with the portraits of the Keepers. He just leaves.

But every once in a while... On quiet moonless nights.... When he sees MC's wand displayed with Miriam's, he hears a whisper. A quiet breathy whisper that he could swear on his life sounds like MC. He chalks it up to the fact that he could be going mad from grief, but it's still strikes him as strange... If he looked at the wand hard enough... He could swear he sees a blue glow...

[llondonfog]

No pls 😭 i hate the idea that raising Silver was a fun experiment out of curiosity to see if he could love a human or not, and that the answer still isnt clear. I hate the idea of Silver, the son of their enemy, being raised to be nothing but a soldier to serve Malleus in some poetic irony. I feel there’s love there but I’ve almost been transported into Silver’s mind where everything is melancholy and unclear. Does he matter as much as I believe he does 😭😭😭 or is it just a cruel tale of some foundling human always meant to be put somewhere else when the fairies are done with them

The thing is, is Silver capable of accepting the fact that Lilia's happiest moment is Malleus' hatching? Yeah, of course, who wouldn't. The man suffered for years, absolutely driven mad with guilt over Meleanor's death and the fear that he wouldn't be able to keep his promise and hatch the one thing that remained of her, the proof of her existence and love. He had to hatch Malleus, because Meleanor believed that he could, that he somehow carried enough love in those tired, aching, and emptied bones, a love that she saw in him when he couldn't even believe it of himself. If he couldn't, it would be one more insult to her name, a failure yet again, a last betrayal of her trust that he couldn't afford and wouldn't survive.

So that weeping? He's so damn dizzy with relief and love and affection for this silly creature inside that's a symbol of the love of the most important people in his life, how could one react in any other way? How fragile and vulnerable, to know that the happiest moment in Lilia's life is to realize after hundreds of years, he was capable of that love all along.

And Silver sees this— he sees the lengths that Lilia went to in order to hatch Malleus, the horrible abuse he stoically suffered from the Senate, the massive disrespect for all that he had lost and sacrificed. Of course he'd accept that this is Lilia's pivotal moment, the bittersweet reward for centuries of despair.

But on the other hand, Silver; a boy who has lost equally, if not more. He's been cast out of his own time, four hundred years into the future, where everyone and anyone who might have known him or his family (save for Lilia) has been long since dead, the kingdom he might have ruled long crumbled to dust. Is it even a footnote in the history textbook he reads? Is there any mention of the Knight of Dawn, of Princess Leia? Anything at all besides the ring in his hand and Lilia's memories to prove that they existed, that they were real, that they loved and wanted him as much as Meleanor had loved Malleus?

All he has, all he's known, is Lilia. Lilia, who found him, who woke him from the spell as the one fated to truly love him. Lilia who thought of killing him upon learning who had sired him, Lilia who raised him to be a guard, to serve those his father once stood against. Lilia who wondered if he could ever love a human, a question that I agree hasn't fully been answered (or acknowledged by Lilia himself) if we are to associate the fact Silver still bears the effects of the sleeping curse with the belief that either Lilia hasn't called him his son and confessed his love, or if Silver still struggles with self-love himself (and we can get into a whole debate over his self-worth and his view as a sacrificial tool, that's an endless discussion).

Lilia . . . whose happiest moment has nothing to do with the boy who calls himself Lilia's one and only son.

And regardless of how I fully understand why Malleus' hatching is that moment, it's still so fucking sad to me.

Your whole life is centered around this one person whom you love more than anyone else— your short, human life— and in reality, you didn't even feature in that person's dream. We only saw Silver's past due to the blot, memories that were completely out of order and not in sync with Lilia's true dream at all.

And Silver will never harbor resentment over this, he will always place his family and loved ones first, but damn it, I can be a little miserable about it. All that trauma we went through with the last update, and now we learn that finding Silver and learning to love the son of his greatest enemy (the son of the person that killed Meleanor!) wasn't Lilia's happiest moment?

Was it just for the poetic irony? I really hope not. I really hope that TWST gives the conversation that Lilia and Silver need to have the due gravity it deserves, because Lilia needs, whether Silver realizes it or not, to look that boy in the eye and tell him that he loves him, he's always been his son, and no matter what their pasts may show, he's been Silver Vanrouge all along.

[mmavverickk]

I “love” the betrayal fics where the entire camp suddenly believes that this new guy has actually accomplished all of Percy’s achievements and Percy lied to all of them, like camp didn’t literally witness half of those accomplishments and like Percy actually outright says “I did X.” Percy says almost nothing about what he does, Camp hears about most of his achievements from others

oh, we've all seen those fics. new guy shows up, he's actually Percy's half-brother. Annabeth suddenly only has eyes for him, everyone suddenly hates Percy because new guy does too, Poseidon may or may not disown Percy, and then Percy runs away and joins Chaos.

it's been copied and pasted thousands of times in hundreds of ways.

not a single one of those fics has Percy's departure from Camp happen realistically. it's not even impossible to grow resentment between Percy and the campers, which is what these writers seem to want. but the way they go about it? a cookie cutter asshole pied piper OC who steals the spotlight and turns Camp into a hostile mob of angry demigods? Unrealistic. 0/10 trope, literally 50% of why i will not read fanfictions with OCs.

have some realistic ways of turning Camp against Percy or vice versa:

- Percy could be captured. The area he was taken from is drenched in blood. no one could survive that, Percy's gotta be dead, so Camp doesn't look for him. after [x amount of time] of captivity and probably torture, Percy gives up hoping for a rescue. he discovers darker uses for his powers, frees himself, and doesn't go back to camp, because they abandoned him. opens the road for angst and emotion and tearful reunions etc.

- Camp is attacked. maybe it was a lazy beach day. no one is ready, only a few campers have their weapons. they're outnumbered and maybe surrounded and definitely out of options. Percy won't let anyone die. two ways to go about this one:

A) percy destroys the attackers single-handedly, using every tool in his arsenal, every fucked up thing he can think of to make sure his people survive. he controls poison and blood and drowns monsters and, i don't know, freezes them into ice cubes or boils their skin or stops their hearts. Camp is terrified of him now. he leaves. or B) the armed campers fight back, but percy isn't fighting. he's busy keeping the injured from dying. how? he's controlling their blood. he won't let it deviate from its normal path. Camp is terrified of him now. he leaves.

- [x god] sends Percy on a quest. but, surprise! it's not a quest! it's a trick, to lead Percy to his death! Percy survives, but can't go back or he'll be revealing he's still alive before he figures out why [x god] tried to have him killed and if there's anyone else behind it. fun conspiracy vibes.

- percy adopts a new pet, except this time it's a drakon. "Percy," Chiron says very patiently and not-at-all exasperated, "you can't keep a drakon as a pet. it will eat your friends and we don't have the space." Percy flips authority the bird and strikes out with his new pet to find somewhere they can settle. kinda cracky but written right it could be funny.

- Percy pisses Zeus off. not surprising. Zeus wants to kill Percy. not surprising. for his own good, Chiron sends Percy on a roadtrip/changes his name and sends him to mexico along with multiple witness protection agents/quest to keep Percy out of sight for a while to allow the king of olympus time to cool down, because we like when percy is alive and also the war poseidon would wage at his death would kill us all.

are all of them 100% realistic? no, but neither is Percy leaving Camp. Hera had to literally kidnap him and erase his memory to keep him away. the point is that they're different and plausible, and not the same exact trope repeated over and over again until i can tell you the plot of hundreds of betrayal works in one sentence.

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 17: What Is Meant To Be?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: You're going to die. It's written in the canon. The canon must always be obeyed... right?

Warnings: Angst O'clock, Talks of death, Near death experience???? Miguel loves so hard, SMUT (again finally) Oral (Fem receiving), Window sex??, sweet sweet desperation

A/N:  I worked hard to get this out quickly because I felt bad about making everything so sad lately 😅 Though there still might be enough angsty to make it plenty sad, Idk. I'm sorry anyway

Previous. - Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 17

What Is Meant To Be?

“Play it again.”

“Miguel, I don’t think–”

“Play it again.”

The simulation of the dingey warehouse restarts. Nothing more than a prediction. A vision of what's to come. A supposed hostage situation set up by the remnants of the Fisk family—a trap for you. It was so simple. He’d seen you dodge gunfire and fight practical monsters, but this is what does it? Trapped inside a warehouse rigged to explode. As indestructible as spiders seemed to be, no one could rightly survive a roof falling on them. A spider can’t dodge bullets forever. 

They’d find your body 3 days later, likely a memorial erected in your honor as well as a day of citywide grieving. And two months later a certain captain’s daughter would take up the mantle— and you’d be replaced and slowly forgotten. 

There was a 98.9% chance of likelihood for these events. It might as well be a hundred at that point.

You were going to die. This is how you were going to die. 

It was predicted to happen within the hour and Miguel was just sitting here waiting for it to happen. How morbid, he scolds himself. He sits there helpless, a pitiful excuse for a hero. 

“Mig, I’m so sorry,” Lyla’s small form comes to sit next to his hand, her own small hand mimicking stroking motions over his forearm. 

“You weren’t going to tell me.” he mumbles, eyes still locked on the screen of a smoldering building where your body would be dug up from. Only a simulation. It hadn’t happened. Not yet.

“I didn’t know how to. I was… scared.” 

“Scared,” He scoffs, “You?”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her, Miguel.'' The AI bites out harshley. It almost catches him off guard. He’s so used to seeing her so bubbly, so quirky and fun. As annoyed as he seemed by it, he always appreciated it. Gabe was smart in programming her to be so fun. He needed someone like that in his life. Someone to help cut through his bullshit. You played that role as well. 

“We’ve lost a lot of friends in this job, haven’t we Lyla?”

“We have.” 

Miguel expected to be ragging at this point, an inconsolable beast wreaking havoc on his lab. Angry, like he had been since you left. Instead, he’s just numb. Was your fate that easy to accept?

The spider-sense lulls in his head, finally quieting down after the month of torture. Did that mean it knew what was to come? Would he feel it? When you—

He finally buries his face in his hands, muffling a defeated sob. Ah, there’s the tears. After the self-inflicted torture he’d put you both through, this is how it ends? You die and he has to watch it happen like a helpless child on the sidelines. This is the burden he’d taken. He’d done this so many times before. He’d watched horrible things happen because it was the will of the canon— but with you it was… you were…

“Lyla, I’d like to see the probability diagnostics,” He swallows the sorrow, hoping the cold unfeeling numbers of an algorithm might put him at ease. If this was to happen, maybe looking at the ripple effects of it would help him cope. A sacrifice for the greater good of it all. 

The equations and graphs illuminate around him, all of them infallible. This was going to happen. And what would your death bring to the multiverse? Nothing. A small blip in the grand scope of it all. A speck of dust in the cosmos, just like all of them. 

But if your death was so small, then what could that mean if it didn’t happen?

The thoughts he’d been suppressing suddenly flood his mind. He’s not helpless here. The power to change your fate rested on his wrist, your life so easily saved by the simple push of a button. He’d risked something like this before, but it was different this time. Could saving a life have the same effect? He’d replaced a life, but saving a life…There’s no way to know. And he didn’t have time to run the numbers. He had to act—- now.

“Miguel?” Lyla’s voice chirps up behind him, “What are you doing?”

What is he doing? He looks down to see he’d already typed in the coordinates to your universe. Had he already decided and didn’t realize it? Was it that easy?

“I…” He looks down at the watch. A single push of a button. That’s all it would take. “I don’t know.”

“I know… this is hard,” She hovers at his wrist now, clearing the coordinates from the watch, “But we can’t interfere with—”

“All we’ve done is interfere,” He bites out in a voice he doesn’t recognize. “How is this different?”

Did he really believe that?

Hypocrite, he scolds himself.

Reasoning. He was trying to reason for it. Bargaining for your life to justify his own selfish actions. 

He types in the coordinates again, and Lyla clears them before he finishes. He growls, clawing through her projection. 

“You’re not thinking, Miguel!” She urges. “I know this is hard. But you can’t. You know you can’t.”

He knows she’s right, he’s not thinking. He doesn’t care. If he could pull this off, if he could save you, then he’d figure it out. He always did. There had to be limits he could push. Options he never considered. Whatever it would take, just to assure your safety. 

“You have to understand what’s at stake here.” Lyla says again, her pixelated eyes pleading with him. Despite her seeming so human in every way, she was still just a program doing her job. She was his fail-safe, an assurance to make sure past mistakes weren’t repeated— and now she’s the only thing standing in his way. 

“Yes, I do understand,” He says coldly, calmly walking across the lab— to Lyla’s control panel. “It’s time you remember who’s in charge.”

“Don’t even think about it!” She grows to full size. Projections explode behind her, raging fire, explosive blinding lights— all mere illusions. It does nothing to stop him. While she ran things, multiverse travel was still completely operable without her. He opens the panel and begins typing in the reboot code. It’s the one area of the tower she has no control over.

Arachni-bots scurry towards him before falling dead with another push of a button. She’s trying everything. He has to work quickly.

“I’ve called Gabe,” Lyla warns, “Emergency protocol is initiated. He’ll know.”

“Fine, I don’t care.” Miguel punches in the final sequence and all of Lyla’s projections begin to fade. Only her flicking form remains. It’ll take her at least an hour to reboot, that’s more than enough time. 

A portal to earth-727 bursts to life in front of him. 

“Think about it, Miguel!” Lyla tries to reason one last time as her projection starts to fade, “All of this— Everything— for one person? It’s not worth it.”

He pauses at the portal's entrance, the pull of the spider-sense urging him to step forward. 

“Yes. She is.”

The sense crescendos as he shoots through reality, across time and space to save you. The anticipation builds, the anxiety of racing against the clock. He burst through the portal already swinging, taking a quick assessment of his surroundings. Without Lyla to guide his exact location he could've only ended up in a 3-mile radius of you. The sun had already set. He was in Brooklyn, the southside by the looks of it. The warehouse was in the center of Queens, not far but he had to hurry. 

As he swings the rest of his emotions come flooding in. The guilt. The shame… the undeniable love for you. How could he have thought such things? How could have just sat by while he watched you die? Had this job really made him so callous? So cold to the world at large? 

When did Spider-Man stop trying to save everyone?

You’d given yourself to him so freely and he’d meet your affections with so much disdain— yet you treated him with kindness anyway. You were patient with him like no one had been before, he didn’t deserve it. Yet he won’t give it up. Not anymore.

He’d make it up to you. He’d make it all up to you starting tonight. 

The warehouse is in sight. You’d be swinging in from the east. He could easily stop you before you got anywhere near the building. He perches himself on the highest rooftop half a block east of the rigged warehouse and waits. Checking the time, you’d be swinging at any moment, give or take a few minutes. 

He waits… and he waits. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed before he starts pacing. Did he miss you? No, he has no doubt the spider-sense would have honed in on you.  

The spider-sense… in his blind panic he hadn't paid it any mind. Surely being in your dimension would send the alarms blaring in his head. Instead, it was like it was…. Muted. Smothered under something he didn’t recognize. What did that mean? 

What if it meant you were already dead?

Dread pushes him off the roof and swinging towards the harrowing warehouse. Crawling up to the closest window, he peers inside. Three armed men stand in the center of the massive room, barrels of explosives around them. 

“Where the hell is she?” one of them grumbles, “Doesn’t she usually show up way before the cops? Did Tony call it in?”

“Of course he did,” the second one sighs. 

“If she doesn’t come then this was all for nothin’.”

“She’ll come. She always comes.”

“Shut up, both of you,” the final one hisses, turning around to scold the other two. “Look.”

He gives a faint nod to his right… directly at Miguel. 

The first bullets whiz past Miguel’s shoulder, one knicking his suit. He was spotted. Idiot. How could be so careless? He barely manages to swing out of sight.

“Christ, don’t shoot in here!” The leader of the three shouts, “Might as well light a fucking match!” 

“Fuck you, I’m not letting that bitch get away!” They think Miguel is you? He could hear them arguing, perched safely on the roof. Well that confirms it, you weren’t here. 

“She’s here. We got her and I’m not gonna let her pick us off one by one. I’m getting justice for the boys she locked up.” The threatening statement is followed by the unmistakable cock of a gun. 

Oh no. 

“Wait— WAIT—'' One of them pleads before a shot goes off, immediately followed by a domino fall of explosions. 

Miguel just barely swings to safety, the flames licking at his heels. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He chants as he rounds the corner onto a rooftop. It happened. The explosion paints the night in harsh oranges, shattering windows and setting off car alarms for miles. He hears police sirens finally approaching. Your death had happened— and you weren’t there for it.

You weren’t there. 

Relief overtakes him, dropping him to his knees. He’s not sure if he wants to cry or vomit. Quelling the boiling cauldron of emotions in his brain, he forces himself to focus. He hones in on the spider-sense— desperately humming in the forefront of his mind. It was trying to tell him something. Trying to tell him where you were. 

With a wary step forward, he follows it.

________

An emergency distress call from some random universe you’d never heard of. You can’t remember the last time you answered one. Probably when the tower was attacked. They were never meant to be ignored either. 

Jess called it in, and with her being so far along in her pregnancy you leaped immediately to help her, along with a good handful of all of your other spider-comrades. She’d just entered her third trimester and you’re truly amazed she’s still working this diligently. 

“Gotta get it all out of my system now,” She’d scoffed to you when she’d first announced it, “That and I know you guys can’t do this without me, better help you out now.” 

Jessica Drew, always so humble to the point she wouldn’t allow herself maternity leave. God, you loved her but you’d wished she would slow down. 

Since she showed no signs of taking a break, offering a helping hand whenever she needed it was the best you could do.

 Tonight she certainly needed it, being caught in a sudden gathering of symbiotes. You and about ten other spiders answered the call, just in time it seemed.

You hated symbiotes. It wasn’t as easy as punching them and knocking them out, you had to be clever. Play to their very specific weaknesses— Fire and loud noises. That and they were just nasty fuckers. It's a good chance for you to blow off some steam. You didn’t have to hold back when it came to symbiotes, and for once, that was a good thing. 

An hour of messy fighting and a lot of loud noises and fire later, they were all contained. It admittedly felt good to be part of a team effort after your rather less-than-stellar month. These were still your people, they didn’t stop being your people just because Miguel wasn’t part of your circle anymore.

A massive portal opened back to HQ. You’re cue to leave for home.

“Hey,” Jess grabs your shoulder before you can hit the button home, “Come back to the tower with me.”

“I— why?” you’re aware of how cold it comes out. 

Jess immediately furrows her brows, “Because I haven’t talked to you in forever and I wanna buy you a coffee so you can describe what it tastes like to me.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, “You miss coffee that much, huh?”

“And booze. And sushi. And hot tubs. And—” She drapes her arm around your shoulder as she continues, leading you over to her bike. Well, if she’s offering a fun ride, who are you to say no?

Yes, you’d been avoiding the tower like a plague just because he’s there. You feel him when you’re closer, the sense jumping at the proximity alone. Just because it was Miguel’s tower though, didn’t mean you weren’t welcome. Your friends were there. Your community. Spider Tower wasn’t just a monolith to Miguel, it was for all of you. 

You wonder if you should tell Jess about it all. If anyone would understand it’d be her. You’d probably get a few good minutes of reprimanding you for being so stupid, but then she’d go full protective mode and be your human shield against the big bad Spider-Man 2099. That and the pregnancy hormones were making her more irritable. That’s what friends did, though— right? Made things easier for one another. That and you wanted another shoulder to cry on.  

You will tell her, eventually. Not tonight but… soon. 

You both burst into the tower, Jess skidding the bike to a spiraling stop. 

“I hate it when you do that.” you sigh into her back. 

“You spend all day swinging around a city and a little bike ride makes you dizzy?” She scoffs, flipping out the kickstand.

“Yes, shut up,” You groan, practically melting off the bike. Suddenly, You remember why you don’t always accept rides from her, “Why do you ride a bike anyway? Your webs seem perfectly fine.”

“Just to look cool,” She muses, bouncing her hard to the side. Well… you can’t deny that fact. She always did look pretty cool. 

The spider-sense was revving in the back of your head. A few weeks ago it would have driven you insane, now it’s just another thing to ignore. Like a cast over a broken bone or an itchy rash. You’d trained yourself to live with advanced senses, you could train yourself to get used to this. 

At least until you were ready to take the cure. 

You’re halfway to the cafeteria when it’s too much, the sense jumping like a punch to the back of your head. You stumble forward, blindsided by the effects. 

“Jeez, you okay?” Jess grabs your arm. 

“Fine! Fine…. I think.” You assure her halfheartedly.

The sense calms down into a more annoying ringing, but still stronger than when you first entered the building. Why was it acting up now? 

A familiar voice calling your name is your answer. You turn around and there he is, standing at the end of the hallway. 

Miguel— and god, he looks awful. 

Of course he had to show up when you were starting to feel like yourself again. The sense almost causes you to burst out in tears at the sight of him alone. It was a relief. It was a nightmare. 

God, you really don’t want to do this right now. 

He takes a few timid steps toward you, “I… I need to talk to you.”

“Why?” you immediately spit back. 

“It’s important,” He simply says. This was a bad idea. You want to go with him so badly but you know if you do it’ll open up all of your wounds again. 

“What’s going on, Mig?” Jess, bless her, tries to intervene. 

“This is between me and her,” Miguel bites out coldly. Jess didn’t often tolerate his bitchy behavior, but she turns to you instead. Her eyes look to you to see if everything is okay— a silent communication only women seemed to possess the power of. 

“It’s fine, Jess,” You pat her shoulder assuredly, “I’ll describe some coffee to you later.” 

She doesn’t look convinced that it is, in fact, fine but carries on her way regardless. She knew you well enough to be sure that you could handle yourself. She’d suspected something probably since the beginning. Yeah, you really need to come clean to her eventually. 

“What do you want?” You practically hiss at Miguel. He barely moves, simply pressing a button on his watch. A portal springs up on your right. 

“Not here,” He gestures to the spinning portal. Of course, this all had to be cryptic for no reason. Just another thing to torture you right now. You groan and step through the portal. 

It was like walking through a door, your feet landing on solid ground in less than a blink of an eye. A quick glance around and you see you’re in Miguel’s home. It’s dark, the only light coming from the glowing city outside. 

You turn to him as he exits the portal behind you. 

“We couldn’t have taken the sta—”

You don’t even finish the sentence before he pulls you into him, strong arms crushing you against his chest. You’re not sure what you expected… but it wasn’t this.

It’s embarrassing how good it makes you feel almost immediately. Like just his touch cured your countless sleepless nights. The familiar warmth of his arms seeping into your varying being as if he was holding your soul. Was a hug always this good? It’s certainly better than the last one you shared with him. 

The realization jolts you out of his embrace. You weren’t supposed to be together anymore. You weren’t supposed to be doing this shit anymore— right?

“What the hell, Mig?” is all you manage to gasp out. 

He stands there, unmoving, his arms still reaching out after you. You can’t read his face, his expression almost blank. Shocked, maybe?

“I… I don’t know—I had to—” he pulls his hands back, examining them as if he’s just killed someone, “Where were you?”

“Where was—” you balk out an annoyed laugh. Is that why he brought you up here, to check in on you? Toying with this all like some child, “On a mission with Jess, doing my job. Are you spying on me now? Do I have to report to you still?!”

He says nothing, letting your harsh yelling linger in the large space. He looks at you again, something you don’t recognize in his eyes. Suddenly all your anger is replaced with pity. What was happening?

“You’re—” He choked on his words, just for a moment, “You’re okay?”

“Am I o—” You take a step towards him, willing yourself not to reach out and touch him. Trying so desperately to hold up that wall. The resistance you’re not sure you had. 

The spider-sense… is screaming.

“Miguel… you’re scaring me.” 

He nods as if to say I’m scared too. Scared of what, though? You gulp as you break the barrier. You reach out and cradle his massive hands in yours. He sighs at your touch. Something horrible happened… or was going to happen—something to bring this warrior to his knees in a way you’d never seen before. 

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he admits shakily. “Little spider, I think I—”

“What do you need?” you ask immediately.

You see the corners of his mouth twitch up just briefly. Cute, but not an answer. 

“What happened?” You push.

His hands trail up your arms and come to cup your face. Your eyes flutter, almost instinctively. “Just… just tell me you're okay. Right now. In this moment.”

“Mig—” 

You’re not sure who does it. If he pulls your lips to his or if you jump up to meet him. Does it really matter? He tasted like freedom. Like the relief you’d been searching for all these weeks. Had you forgotten so easily? The taste of him. The feel of him. Something so indescribable— like a drug. He was your drug.

It’s a handsy fury, ripping off your clothes as you seemingly try to will his to fade away. There was no time for pleasantries, not this time. There was only hunger— unsatiated, gnawing hunger. 

Need. You needed him.

He backs you against the windows, their sudden coldness sending chills up your naked body. 

“Miguel, please—” you urge, for what exactly, you’re not entirely sure. Whatever he was willing to give you.

“Te tengo. Te tengo…” He chants as his mouth glides down your body, from your neck, between your breasts, and finally to your waiting cunt. 

He engulfs your heat greedily. You don’t recall ever screaming so loud. Sweet, perfect relief. He was perfect. 

He brings both of your legs over his shoulders and holds you there, your bare back pressed against the glass for all the world to see— not that anyone likely would from this height. And not that you really cared right now anyway. There was only him. Him. Him!

God, you missed his skillful mouth. Hungerly lapping at you like it nourished his very soul. It did, you suppose in a way. The sinful hunger helped both of you in its own way. Kept you sane. Kept you alive. You can’t believe you’ve lasted as long as you did without him. 

You come embarrassingly fast, but you’re not surprised with how much you had pent up over the last month. The orgasm rips you apart like an atom bomb, exposing your raw nerves underneath. Your vision goes white, your mouth goes dry. It was everything you were trying to give yourself all those lonely nights— Miguel gave it to you in two minutes. 

His mouth still sloppily runs between your legs as you come down. You squirm in his grasp, your sensitivity now turned up to eleven. 

“Miguel,” You plead, “I need you. I need you.”

A rumble emanates from his chest and up your legs as his mouth comes off you. He lowers your legs, holding you at his waist. He stands at his full height again, pinning you there. He trails his mouth back up your torso, pausing at your breasts to lull his tongue over each nipple before he finds your mouth again— his mouth and tongue coated with the taste of you. 

“Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho.” he whispers between breaths. You know those words. He’s saying sorry. He’s sorry— you’re sorry too. Sorry for it to have come to this. 

He slides inside with a pained moan. Your walls clench around him with familiarity. 

“Like you were made for me,” He murmurs as his mouth slides down your neck. Though it’s completely healed over, he knows the mark he left. He stops on it, his tongue tracing the ghost of what was left there. The brand he left on your soul. 

He lifts you off his cock and slams back into you brutally. Your head falls back against the window with a defined thunk as he sets a ruthless pace. Bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing at all. That’s alright, he can use you. 

Your lude erotic sounds fill the space. Wet skin slapping on wet skin. Desperate wordless moans for more. Always more. 

“I missed you. I missed you,” You don’t didn’t even realize you were chanting it until your mouth went dry. 

“Shhh,” He nips at your lower lip, “I know. God, I know. I missed you too. I— fuck.”

Even amidst the animalistic lust-fueled frenzy, you could feel him trembling under your touch. His body quivering with more than just desire. Your combined anxieties manifesting into something desperate and terrifying. A need that couldn’t just be quelled with just your hands. 

Even in your bliss-fogged mind, you felt like a fool for ever letting something like this go. Something so rare and beautiful.

Ever since it appeared in your life you’d been trying to describe this impossible feeling. What was a shared spider-sense? A piece of you that you shared with someone else. How can you define what felt like pure instinct? Give a name to something that was indescribable?

The only thing you knew was that something felt right when you were together. The world made sense when this man was part of it, as infuriating as he could be at times. You were his, he was yours. Not yours in the sense that he belonged to you, but yours meaning he belonged with you. A pair, a set, forever intertwined. 

What was the spider-sense to you?

It was home. 

It felt like home. He felt like home.  

His hips come to a staggering halt as your second orgasm overtakes you. He bites down on your shoulder as he paints your walls. He stands there just for a moment before lowering you both to the ground on trembling legs. Neither of you speaks, panting out the thinning air between each other. Both of you refuse to let go, afraid that this time would surely be the last time you’d ever touch him. Keep him here, now, forever. Nothing could take him away from you right now. 

“Reboot complete.” An ambient voice rings through the room. It was certainly Lyla’s but it sounded… different. More robotic. 

“Oh no,” Miguel grumbles, his grip on you tightening. 

“What? What is it?” Why do you feel panicked? It’s just Lyla. 

Miguel pulls away, worry crossing those burgundy eyes, “I… I have to tell you something.” 

Before he can continue, a familiar golden glow springs up in the middle of the room. Pixels form together to make the familiar form of the infamous AI assistant. She turns to face you both. Miguel’s suit instantly appears back on his body. You’re suddenly very aware of your nakedness, despite her being a computer program. You grab for your abandoned suit crumbled on the floor, hurriedly shoving yourself back into it. 

 “Geez, knock first, Lyla,” You scold her. 

“You’re—” the program's gaze darts back to Miguel in an instant, “Miguel, you didn’t.” 

Miguel sits there shamefully, like a scolded dog. 

“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this anymore,” You come to his defense, slipping your arm into the final sleeve, “It just kind of happened.”

Lyla cock’s her head at you. Was she… confused? Did Lyla get confused? Again, she turns back to Miguel. 

“You didn’t tell her?”

An unknown fear pricks at the hairs on your neck, “Tell me what?”

Miguel stands, arms outstretched to console you. His mouth was open and ready with an explanation before he was interrupted again. 

“Miguel!” Another voice echoes through the large room as it enters the apartment. Gabe. He pauses at the living room entrance. “Oh no. No no no, Miggy. What is she doing here? Estas loco?!”

“Excuse me?” You start before Miguel comes to your defense. 

“She’s here because I chose for her to be here,” He steps in front of you, “She has a right to be here.”

“You’re not God, Miguel,” Gabe marches over, slapping his older brother in the chest. Miguel doesn’t react, “You don’t get to make these decisions. No one does.No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer—”

“I’ve told you this is not the same. Ella es diferente,” Miguel bites out, looming over Gabe. The younger brother does not back down.

“Bullshit!”

“Hey!” You finally scream. All eyes in the room snap to you in an instant, some angrier than others. “Someone please… tell me what’s happening.”

You see Gabe’s defenses drop, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a step away.

“Jesucristo, Mig.” You hear him mumble into his hand.  

Miguel looks back to you, some kind of horrifying desperation pulling at his features. You’re not sure why, but it scares you. 

“Arañita… Sit down. I have something to tell you.”

_______

Translations:

Te tengo. Te tengo…: I’ve got you. I’ve got you...

Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho: I’m sorry, little spider. I’m so sorry.

No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer– : I can’t believe you’re making the same mistakes again. I can’t believe—

Ella es diferente: She’s different

Jesucristo, Mig: Jesus Christ, Mig

Please please please let me know if any of this is wrong

________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3 @del-ightfulling

Taglist post here!!!

[90percentstudios]

What D&D classes would the CKC cast play as, and what would be their playstyle?

cody - changeling rogue. he'd get obsessed with trying to ride on the back of a hill giant instead of just freakin' killing it, and would probably forget he can do stuff like shapeshifting/bonus actions/etc 80% of the time. he's pretty deadly when he's locked in though, but it'd take some proof and convincing that an enemy is worthy of death. he'd also doodle while playing, heavily distracting him, but at least by the end of each session there's a bunch of silly drawings his friends can flip through.

mini - changeling cleric. the twins are both changelings cuz of everyone in the series, i think they're the only ones that've achieved being losers, cool kids, gods, averaged, AND banned. she's actually a big fan of making overly complicated plans, whether it's a heist, a jailbreak, you know she's got a dozen pastel gel pens to plan it all out! unfortunately she's got horrific luck, consistently rolling under 10. at least the plan goes well when someone else is carrying it out.

peter - human paladin. he has perfect recollection of all the rules and likes the game to be as immersive as possible, because convincing himself he's really a heroic paladin that people like and respect was his copium as a loser. that being said, post-series pb would have a bit more fun, especially with cody there to involve him in all his crazy antics.

juvie - tiefling barbarian/fighter multiclass. they frequently have to reassure their team they're not a violent psychopath irl, it's just that if you're playing in a world where you can do anything, why WOULDN'T you give every kobold a uniquely gruesome death and decorate your camp with their guts as a show of force? anyway they're very combat focused.

peggy - wood half-elf druid. any chance she has to transform into a unicorn she takes (it's not technically allowed but daniel allows her to turn into a horse that has a horn for flavor). she mostly trots around, eats apples, gives people horsey-rides, makes friends with other animals and often demands that daniel allow them to resurrect their friends (ahem cody) whenever they miraculously die.

holden - human bard. he actually brings his guitar and plays a short tune whenever he uses bard magic, it really adds to the immersion! he's also the party-face, meaning he's in charge of persuading the guards not to imprison everyone just because juvie tested the flammability of the local tavern's liqueurs. after a dozen of these instances he's gotten in the habit of telling guards "i've never seen that tiefling in my life."

daniel - elf wizard, (though he'd focus on dming, he'd probably include his own character in the campaign at peggy's request because "he'd be left out" if he didn't). his character would offer important exposition when it's already too late and punish the others for their reckless shenanigans by not helping them when they're in a bind. "it's better for character growth" he says.

gigi - sorcerer. she'd immediately grasp the rules, min-max the hell out of her character, remind people to use their ability modifiers and always be on the hunt for the best equipment, often getting holden to help bargain for them with his high charisma stat. her gamer-brain's also got a good memory for the lore of the campaign. "where was the grand exchange again?" "it was north east of kragmaw, remember?" "..." "in that cave in the side of the mountain?" "..." "you caused a cave-in that cut the water supply off from the local town, displacing hundreds?" "... ooooh, right."

rhyme - astral elf. would join the campaign a bit later than the others since she'd still be getting used to the friend group and all. everyone would welcome her in and they'd all grow as friends. she's annoyingly good at everything as always, yet somehow whenever she's near, mishap seems to follow. juvie's certain she's up to no good but no one believes them, until some pivotal moment when daniel reveals he'd invited her to play as a double agent on the side of evil and in order to complete the quest they must all fight to the death. when asked why the hell he'd do something like that he says "dammit i told you cody, FOR CHARACTER GROWTH!!" rhyme has stellar acting and everyone fights her with teary eyes, until... i dunno, they find some secret option of exorcising her of evil and completing the quest and no one dies and yadda yadda happy ending. anyway juvie gives a very well-deserved i told you so and rhyme admits her being the secret villain was a bit on the nose but she enjoyed the theatre of it all.

[crazyk-imagine]

Finding their Mate

A/N: This feels like I wrote an entire series, but it was simple headcanons, which I've found to be oddly fun to do from time to time

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Freya

After everything that happened with her aunt Dahlia and her giving up everything for her family to live their best lives (without her). Can you imagine how surprised she is to find out that you two are mates; the girl is baffled beyond baffled. She doesn't pursue you when she learns the truth. If you two are friends and she has feelings for you, she'll begin to pull away a bit which leads to you confronting her and asking why she's acting the way she is because it feels like things are weird and you don't want to deal with weird. You have a hard time making friends or finding people who can tolerate you. One awkward conversation later, you two share a kiss and are on a date. I mean, if you consider you watching her practice a spell while she tries not to blush too much as a date, there you have it

Finn

Before his mother forced this life of eternal damnation onto him even if it was due to losing his youngest brother. There is one thing he never anticipated finding... you, his mate. If anyone had told him mates were real and he would meet his soon, he'd probably think you were insane. And that's saying a lot since his life has been revolving around the supernatural since he was a child. Meeting you certainly helped him through this new life, but it didn't do much when he finds himself daggered at the hands of his brother. Knowing you were out there on your own dealing with him family drove him crazy, but he didn't know you asked to be turned to live with him (imagine his surprise when he awoke nine hundred years later and found you). After talking with you, he can't imagine living without you and thanks his lucky stars for you

Elijah

When his memories came back of how he harmed Tatia, he was less enthusiastic about pursuing another female. But Davina made a friend in you (because you helped her bring Kol back) and that was the end of it. It didn't trigger that you two had met years ago until he saw the three of you enjoying breakfast together. His memories came flooding back to him and he realized that you weren't in your original body yet, hence where his younger brother got the idea to do so, trying to find the doppelgänger. You two slowly began bonding and then came the hardest time in your relationship, he lost his memories, his mind would never let him forget your face. He never knew until he and Klaus were at their end, but his brother admitted your death to him and explained that's why he has an ache in his heart. A werewolf had gotten you while you were protecting Hope. He never got to admit how sorry he was for hurting you, not until he saw you standing there, waiting for him with Hayley by your side

Klaus

He didn't believe it for a second, thought it was a hoax; thought it was something the witches cooked up to blackmail him. But the more he saw you, the more his heart raced and the more his need for you grew stronger. Not to mention the fact that his wolf didn't help, the voice calling and wanting him to take you for his own so they can claim you as theirs. He knew he was dangerous and that's why he did all he could to stay away from you in the beginning when he ever so slowly begins to accept that your fates are tied to one another. There was no way he'd let you be put in danger due to his issues or because you're associated with his family. After you manage to protect Hope and yourself while defending him and his name, he thinks maybe his family wasn't lying when they said you two were fated mates, destined to be together (perfect for one another eve). He was more than hesitant to try and form a relationship with you. You had to be the one to take the step and make things right and stop the aches n both your hearts

Kol

He initially planned on using you as leverage since he knows his brother cares about you (whether it was platonic or not). But then, there was this little spark you had and not just because you managed to shock him with your powers, to escape from him and his mother. After that he knew he had to know you, someone who is genuine friends with his half-brother and can take care of themself in they ever needed to. That one hell of a keeper and there was no way he could let you go. So, yeah, he's going to try and become your friend (only after you reject him when he asks you to go out on a date). Then when Davina tried to help him return to his body, she came to you and knew you'd be able to help more than anyone because working alone isn't enough. No one, supernatural or not, cannot deny the bond between mates. You two confessed to one another once he came back from the supernatural purgatory, in his original body, and that was that

Rebekah

After watching her brother kill almost all her lovers and ruining any chance she had at a love life, she found it hard to believe that she was offered a chance at having someone fated to be hers. Someone her brother couldn't kill without causing her severe harm. She loves too hard and fast, she knows that, but she can't help it. Now that mates are thrown into the mix, she is a little hesitant at starting something with you, but she also knows how you are (being allies with her family helped her learn more about you). Then when her siblings find their mates and watches how happy they are, she can't help but basically run into your arms and confess that she feels the bond too and wants to start a relationship with you (and if you hate Elena, that's such a bonus for her)

Hope

When she lost her parents and her Uncle Elijah, she never imagined anything good would come into her life. Always believing herself to be cursed and imagining loads of misery would continue to come her way even as she genuinely tries to let good things into her life. Then you came into play, and she was floored. First off, you're the most good-looking person she's ever seen, Landon does not compare whatsoever. But it also is more of a reason for her hesitation when it comes to interacting with you or her just trying to get to know you. You knew right away who she was to you, another reason why you wanted to talk to her, figure out how you would fit into her life. You started to pursue her, not ready to give up even as she continuously turns you down, waiting until she'll accept you. After some time, she decided to try and have her own epic love like her parents and uncle Elijah did. She doesn't regret it

Hayley

After learning the truth about her family, she didn't expect to hear that mates were a thing. Then as soon as she stepped foot in New Orleans, imagine her surprise when she met not one but two wolves who continuously looked out for her. She manages to bond with one of the two wolves right away, slightly alarmed at how easy it was to spot you in your wolf while she is out in town. Then came a full moon where she met Jackson, who may or may not, have known who the wolf was and told her, about you and your back story or the bond you two share. Unfortunately for her, you were cursed differently. Only when you find your mate on a full moon and they accept you, will you be able to turn into your human form again. She searched three moons before finding you and she thanked her bloodline for giving her someone so, well, you. You're more than she could have ever known

Davina

With everything she went through before and after learning about everything witch wise, finding a lover much less a mate was the furthest thing on her mind. After she came back from the other side and was dealing with the ancestors' punishment, you entering her life was more a blessing. Which is something she and Marcel can easily agree on. Then you put in the effort to learn about her, just as she starts to find herself, accepting everything she's done and what the other witches keep doing to her; you stay by her side is what's kept her together. She would never admit it out loud to you but ever since you had entered her life, it was more of a blessing than anyone even realized. She continues to thank her lucky stars every day once the two of you are together. You are more than she could have ever imagined, and she'll do whatever she can to protect you because there's a lot that goes on in town

Marcel

After Klaus pulled his siblings out of town after the fire and the Mikaelson's thinking he was dead, losing Rebekah... he never thought he'd get the happy ending he wanted. But then, he was out at his favorite bar, trying to charm the pants off Camille (yet again) and you waltzed in, changing his life for the better. He never knew why his heart was so full and pounding so hard until Elijah told him. Finding out that mates were a thing? He was... safe to say pleased because like the man who treated him like a son always said, a king must have a queen (or king, in some cases). And you, my dear, are his royal highness lover from now until death and that could take a while. He will always do whatever he can to give you whatever you want to keep you happy and satisfied. He wants you to feel like you can rely on him for anything and everything, which kind of makes him look like a sugar daddy with all the new things he buys you

[makedonsgriva]

Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know : A Review

So I generally don't do reviews. But going through the tumblr tag and then on AO3 and seeing the abysmal amount of posts and fanfics, I am writing this review in hopes of someone reading this and then getting convinced by my agenda.

Because Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know deserves to be read by yall.

IT. IS. SO. GOOD.

To summarize, we start with the leader of the demonic Xuanyuan Sect, Wenren E, getting a copy of a trashy romance novel, Abusive Romance.

What baffles him is that he, a logical, rational person who has never felt love in his life, is the second lead and falls in love with the Mary Sue female lead and gives up everything for her and dies in the end for her too.

What makes him even more confused that after he dies in the novel, his loyal subordinate Yin Hanjiang is driven to madness and is hell bent on revenge, pursuing the female lead to kill her.

Wenren E decides that this cannot be allowed. He is not afraid of death, (although he does mind that it was for a stupid reason and not on his own terms) but he very much minds the fact that his subordinate went insane after it. So he sets out to re write destiny.

Now let's talk about the highlights of this book

The Characters

DVAWTK is full of interesting, fun and exciting characters who will remain etched in your memory. Whether it is the sensuous, ruthless and ambitious Shu Yanyan or the wise, perceptive and kind Zhongli Qian, there is a multitude of characters to pick from to love and adore and all of them have deeper and hidden depths that give them layers of complexities.

Not to mention, DVAWTK has several strong and amazing female characters. I have mostly read MXTX books and this is where she lacks the most: hardly any strong female characters. She writes shockingly amazing characters but most of them are male and I mostly don't mind but I do wish I got some great girls to cherish in there too.

Cyan Wings does not disappoint in that aspect. All their female characters are wonderfully well fleshed out. Especially Baili Qingmiao. Seeing her go from the biggest girlfailure to an absolute girlboss over 70 something chapters is satisfying in a sense the way, and I quote the book here, "one feels about their first daughter finally grow up" Chef's kiss truly.

The Plot

The plot is engaging but nothing too crazy, if I am being honest. Apart from a couple of reveals and plot twists that were shocking, it mostly stuck to a more or less predictible story line. That does not mean it was not good; it was. Most of the arcs keep you engaged enough to keep reading without being able to put the story down and tie into each other seamlessly. As such, there are no plot holes and stupid or unnecessary story lines. It works very well to support the characters and their personal growth and arcs.

The Humour

Top notch. So well done. Got me laughing out loud multiple times and earned me a lot of weird looks from my roommate but all worth it. SVSSS was the funniest work I read but DVAWTK gives it a run for its money in terms of the comedy it has and also it's general unhinged-ness, mostly thanks to it's characters. Everyone at the Demonic Xuanyuan Sect is a goofball although they are not trying to be. The skeleton lady Qiu Congxue has no brains. Literally. A ghost ate it so you can guess just how well she is faring in the books.

(she still is immensely powerful tho)

The Romance

So far the biggest freaks I had found while reading Danmei are Mo Ran and Luo Binghe.

Yin Hanjiang is a hundred times worse.

He is an absolute psycho, a complete nutter, powerful beyond comprehension and hopelessly devoted to Wenren E. And Wenren E, once realising his own feelings, thinks it is all so hot!! (makes you really wonder just who is more insane among the two)

My subordinate wants to destroy the entire cultivation world after my death? He has my full support that's so cute of him <3

Freak4freak with some very beautiful and tender moments and an absolute badass power couple who kick ass together in battles. Truly amazing. I love love love wenrenjiang.

The World building

Wonderfully well done and also easy to follow! I especially liked how cultivation was viewed from a different light in this novel and how the book explores the ways it is actually harmful to mortals. I actually learnt a lot about various cultivation stages from this novel and came to understand some common aspects of xianxia novels. DVAWTK uses many technical terms in terms of cultivation and it is fun to read and learn about it

Found Family

Need I say more? Like what's better than a bunch of idiots coming together and growing on their journey thanks to each other? *gently holds Su Huai, Baili Qingmiao, Qiu Congxue and Zhongli Qian in my palms* they are so important to me

Final Thoughts

DVAWTK is a great read with a very satisfying ending. It keeps you hooked till the very end and I am honestly surprised it is so underrated. I am very glad it is getting an official translation soon so hopefully, it will amass more readers although the unofficial translation I read is also very good. It deserves way more hype and fans then it has because it's so silly, so good and so well done. Ugh I hope it also gets some kind of adaptation some day to make it more popular because it deserves it all.

Please read this novel. That's what I want to say. You will not be disappointed.

[winter-dayz]

Eternal Love

Pairing: Lalisa Manobal x Reader Vampire AU Genre: Angst; Fluff; Horror; Smut Words: 3410 Warnings: blood-drinking; dead dove: do not eat; depression; implied suicide; major character death; murder; sexual content (dom!reader, sub!lisa, switching dynamics, marking, thigh riding, female oral receiving, vaginal fingering); strong language; violence

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise…” I purred, staring down the golden eyes in front of me. She was just as I remembered. Her hair had changed, her fashion now matching the times, and her eyes shone with the same supernatural hint my own did. But she was still the woman I had once loved… Or she looked like her, at least.

A million memories flashed through my mind, and I could tell she was going through something similar.

Her glare softened. “I thought you died.”

“I thought I died too.” I paused, a sardonic smile playing at my lips, “But to be fair, I was the one who went to your funeral so…”

“And yet, you don’t seem surprised to see me.”

“Neither do you. I imagine we’re both quite accustomed to the bizarre and unusual.”

She nodded sagely, “Nothing surprises old women like us anymore.”

I laughed, and she cracked a smile at her own joke.

God, I had missed her.

🎃

We met in school, as cliché as that was, and we bonded quickly and easily.

It was a necessity for our situations, honestly.

The pair of us were among the first class of the women’s college in my home city. It was 1836, and among being women trying to get an education, making us outcasts to much of the public, we were both rather isolated from our fellow peers as well.

Lalisa Manobal was an immigrant. Wealthy, but “different” nonetheless. And, I was poor. While the other girls at the college came from well-off backgrounds, from families where it made sense for their daughters to obtain an education, I had used the inheritance from my grandfather to attend school. Inheritance that was intended to pay my dowry. Hence, my parents and I were rather estranged.

So when I saw Lalisa eating alone under the sun, whispers surrounding her, I felt no shame in promptly seating myself beside her.

From there, we became the best of friends.

We spent all of our time together in school. We studied together, we gossiped together, we even went on little “dates” together, as many of the city boys had eyes for the wealthy, local girls.

It was simply fun, at first, but it was all too easy to fall in love with her. Which was even more fun. A secret, forbidden love. What more could a girl dream of?

I would pass her notes, always signed ‘with love’ just to fluster her. I would visit her family estate for tea, enjoying that because we were two young women we were left unchaperoned. I would gaze at her instead of working on my knitting, sure of the hearts in my eyes that made her shy, smile smally at me, and gently remind me to pay attention to my pattern.

She was falling for me too; I could just tell.

🎃

“So we both died, huh?” Lalisa—Lisa, as she preferred now—settled onto one end of the couch after obviously scoping out the house.

I hummed in agreement, settling myself onto the other end of the couch and setting both wine glasses onto the coffee table. Lisa eyed the crystal. She must’ve recognized it if the sad smile playing on her lips was anything to go by.

“It’s AB negative.” I spoke, changing the topic whilst confirming what we both knew to be true of each other.

“That’s rare.”

I shrugged, “It’s a special occasion. We always break out the finest wines when we celebrate.”

“Are we celebrating?” Lisa’s eyes cut from the glasses to mine.

“I’ve just found out the love of my life didn’t commit suicide one hundred and eighty years ago, so yes. I’m celebrating.”

Lisa’s lips quirked at the edges into a small, playful smile. “You used to celebrate in other ways too.”

🎃

She moved slowly, hesitantly and unsure about what was happening but still with a subtle air of excitement and sensuality. She set our glasses down on the table, the crystal clinking despite her gentleness. She was so gentle with the glass as they were the ones I bought with my first paycheck to surprise her.

After refusing the arranged marriage her parents set forth, they had essentially disowned her. I was used to having nothing; Lalisa was not. But, thankfully, we had both finished our education and were working as teachers. She used her first paycheck, and some of her remaining funds from her family to buy a small house. I bought us wine glasses and wine to celebrate.

“Are you sure about this?” She asked me, voice barely a whisper. “If we do this, we will be ostracized.”

Lalisa was hesitant about my confession of love. I could not blame her. Our feelings had always been an unspoken, mutual connection that we held close to our hearts. By breathing the words into the universe, by asking her to be mine, I was unleashing something bigger than either of us. I was cementing the forbidden desires we both held dear.

“Only if anyone finds out…” I whispered back, taking a step closer.

Her fingers moved to the sides of my skirts. “They will run us out of the city.”

“We hate the city anyway.”

“Our friends and family are here.”

I settled my hands on her trim waist, leaning so that my lips caressed her ear. “I only need you, my love.”

Lalisa blushed at the implications of my words, said so sweetly yet so indecent. Her skin flushed deeply from that lovely shade of gold that I adored to a fiery, hot pink.

Before I could apologize for assuming her feelings and making her uncomfortable, I felt Lalisa’s grip on my skirts tighten, bunching the fabric at my hips. Her lips meeting mine was the softest thing I had ever felt.

I admit I had been a bit stunned. Considering that in the entirety of our flirtation, I had always taken the lead, and Lalisa had been much more demure. However, having this beautiful, intelligent, gentle woman come onto me so suddenly, I froze.

When my mind caught up to my racing heart, I deepened our kiss, and the sigh of content that escaped between Lalisa’s lips only made me want to ravage her more.

As I nipped her bottom lip, catching and tugging it between my teeth, and grasped tightly to her waist, she allowed me to manhandle her. She became soft and pliant in my hands, seemingly enjoying being lowered to our couch. Her legs even parted slightly to allow one of my own to slip between hers—both of our etiquette classes had surely been thrown out the window by now, but neither of us could find an ounce of care for that.

It was difficult to maneuver with our dresses in the way; I could not wait to remove them.

I pulled away gently, and Lalisa tried to pull me back in. A wet string connected our glossy lips, and we both broke down into giggles.

What we were doing was ridiculous. Ostracized? We would be lucky if the city did not burn us like witches for how dark the desires in our eyes were.

“You know…” Lalisa whispered to me, my fingers moving to untie her bodice without much thought. “I have imagined us together before.”

I paused. “Have you?” A shaky breath slipped past my lips. “And when have you thought of us together?”

“In the dark of night.”

My own neck and face heated from her own indecent implications. I had not been expecting something so bold. Who was I to be so gentle when she was clearly so wanting?

“We should move upstairs, darling.” Lalisa grabbed my wrist before I could practically tear her dress off. “Someone could see through the windows.”

I wasted no time, no words, before helping her off the couch. We moved swiftly up the staircase, happening upon my bedroom first. We helped each other undress to our chemises and took in the lovely shape of one another’s near-naked bodies.

“You are the most wonderful, my love,” I whispered, hands on Lalisa’s waist and guiding her to perch on the edge of my bed.

Her eyes fluttered as her head tilted back, and my lips granted her wish for a kiss once more.

She leaned away slowly, settling herself on my bed, and I—much like a hungry predator—hovered over her. Her eyes were hazed and dark, lustful and wanting something we had both been waiting much too long for.

🎃

I straddled Lisa, who leaned back on my massive bed like a proper queen ready to be pleased. Her eyes were hazy, dark, lustful. We both had been waiting much, much too long for this.

Lisa smirked as I moved over her body, hands sliding up her sides and coming to rest on her shoulders. I leaned forward with a soft smile, placing a gentle kiss on her jugular. My sensitive ears no longer could pick up the sound of her lovely heart racing, but she smelled the same. Nearly two hundred years, and Lisa still used the same perfume scents: vanilla and cedar.

As I sucked a small mark on her collarbone, Lisa whined and rutted against my thigh. I paused, giving a light chuckle at her brazenness.

“You’ve become a lot more bold over the years, my love.”

Lisa moaned, continuing to move her hips up as I tensed my thigh muscle and rubbed down against her to give her more friction. “Not more bold. Needy.” She exclaimed breathily, head falling back.

“Aw~” I tsked, “still so desperate for your own pleasure, hm?”

Despite my teasing, I had moved swiftly to remove both our bras and pants, leaving us in only lacy thongs. Her nipples pebbled against the exposure of cool air, and I couldn’t help but brush my thumbs over the peaks, sending another shiver down her spine.

I leaned down and flicked my tongue over one of the perky buds before gently sucking it into my mouth. She groaned loudly when my teeth trailed over it, spurring me to bite down harshly. I felt the skin break, her own rich blood filling my mouth with her unique flavor. When she didn’t protest, I retracted my fangs and moved upwards to the top of her breast and sank them deeply once more. Lisa screamed and trembled, pleasure wracking through her, as my venom coursed in her veins and I marked her as mine.

I lapped gently at the wound, prompting the bleeding to stop, and moved to kiss down her breasts and abdomen. Her breathing was ragged and hitched when I began to trail the kisses lower down her hip bone and across her thighs.

I hummed, “What is it, my love? What is it you crave?”

“You. Always you.” Lisa rasped.

“And you will always have me,” I smirked into the soft flesh that met between her thighs. My tongue flicked out, tasting the wetness that dripped from her. “Just from a little marking, my love? So, so wet just from claiming you?”

I didn’t wait for her answer, instead gripping her hips to hold her in place while my tongue began brushing against her clit. Lisa cried out, unable to squirm away with my grip on her, and resorted to grinding her dripping pussy against my mouth instead.

Feeling merciful, I removed one hand from holding her in a bruising grip and swirled my thumb around her clit, while I kept my tongue buried in the heat of her, drinking up everything I could.

“Please, please!” Lisa begged. Her head was thrown back, mouth dropped open and eyes squeezed shut in pure ecstasy. Her brow furrowed into a silent scream as I slid two fingers into her. Curling gently, her hips bucked, and she whimpered again, “More~”

“More?”

She nodded furiously, and I complied. I moved my mouth away ever so slightly, so that I could slip a third finger into her and grind my palm against her clit. We moved in sync: her grinding and clenching on my fingers; me alternating between lapping and swirling my thumb against her bud while my fingers rubbed against the rough patch inside.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Lisa finally jolted as her pussy clamped down, and she screamed as she came.

With the recovery speed expected of a vampire, Lisa grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up to straddle her thighs. She smirked as I groaned when my own hot wetness met the soft muscle.

“It’s your turn. Use me, darling.” Her voice was heady and rough from her previous screams. I had never heard her like that; she’d never commanded me like that. As new as it was, I enjoyed the new change in dynamics.

I complied, easily grinding down and chasing my own pleasure using Lisa’s tightened thigh muscle. As I chased the friction and my eyes fluttered closed, I felt her thumb come to circle my clit. I was already so, so close—pleasuring Lisa had always done that to me—but the feeling of her own fangs sinking into the swell of my breast tipped me over.

An orgasm so strong, whiting out my vision and leaving a ringing in my ear, burst within me as the claim she made on me settled into my chest.

“Lalisa… fuck~” I whimpered, falling forward against her. She settled back to the bed, taking me with her, and we cuddled in our post-reunion haze.

I brushed my nose against her cheek, fingers gently circling the claw indents I left on her hips. I felt Lisa’s own hands stroking up and down my spine, barely tracing over the swell of my ass.

“You still look at me like that…” Lisa whispered softly, eyes glistening with tears.

I smiled gently, “Like you’re my whole world, my love?”

She hummed in agreement. “You know you’re mine too, right darling?”

“I should hope so after we just made each other see stars,” I teased. Lisa giggled. I had really fucking missed that giggle.

After a quiet moment, Lisa sobered. She hesitated, her fingers stilling on the curve of my waist. Finally, reluctantly, she murmured out,  “What happened that night?”

“Oh…” I swallowed. That night… Fuck.

🎃

It had been a quiet night, seemingly pleasant with only the dim glow of the moon to lead me back home to my beloved. We had just confessed our love and began our lives together. If I had been more focused on my surroundings, on the dark shadow following me through the alleys and the heavy, foreboding feeling in the air, then maybe that night would have turned out differently.

Maybe I would have never been damned to become a monster.

But alas, it was in the cover of the darkness that a man emerged before me. He had been a suitor of mine, jilted without a reason, and apparently, he was angry about such.

The man—his name honestly unimportant—stared me down with eyes dark as coal, the only hint of color was an underlying tinge of red. It was terrifying, reminding me of blood. His steps were silent, yet full of wrath when he approached me. Well, it was more like he was stalking towards me. Like I was his prey.

With hindsight, I realized I was. He had been a predator lurking in the night, and when he happened upon me running late errands—the one who had wounded his pride—he couldn’t resist locking onto me. His hunger was gnawing at his core and fueled further on by his rage.

When he had gotten close enough that the shadows parted from his face, truly allowing me to face his monstrous form, his grin twisted into something only dreamt of in nightmares. Long fangs, sharp and deadly, were revealed. Dried blood sat on his lip, most likely from his previous victim. The red in his eyes burned brighter as the sight of my fear.

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t my precious lady.” He sneered. His body was so relaxed, as if he knew there was no way I could get away. “So you decide to reject me for another whore like yourself, hm?” He spat, red-tinged saliva spewing, “Disgusting.”

I wanted to snap back. Or even question just how he knew that I had refused his proposal for Lalisa. But I was paralyzed, frozen in my fear of this demon.

He laughed. Cruel and harsh. Inhuman. Within a blink, he had lunged at me, and his unnatural fangs had sunken into my neck. My screams were muffled with his hand, his iron grip merciless as he held my silent and still. I could feel my blood spilling, pouring out. He was feasting on not only my flesh but also the pleasure he received from draining me.

My body weakened, my life drifting away, and all I could see was the fountain of my own blood spewing into the alley. I was certain he had ripped out my jugular with how much red there was everywhere.

And then there was nothing.

I awoke several days later, though. I was no longer human, rather a monster myself. A vampire.

His coven leader had explained what I could not recall… After my jilted suitor had attempted to murder me and turn me, a crowd leaving a nearby pub had stumbled upon my supposed corpse. The ruckus caught the leader’s attention, who had been out hunting himself. Although my suitor escaped the vengeful mob, his leader got a hold of him. He was quite bothered that because of his subordinate’s carelessness the whole coven would have to uproot and move. Thus, he decapitated him and burned his remains.

I was taken into the leader’s protection, or custody rather. Taught the proper, careful ways to be a vampire. How to hunt, both animals and humans, and how to not get caught.

I only returned to my home once.

When I heard news that my beloved had committed the grave sin of taking her own life.

I attended her funeral. I mourned.

🎃

Lisa explained her side to me when I finished the story of my own death.

She had never committed suicide, despite how tempted she often was. She explained that they had brought her in to confirm the identity of my body the morning after the attack.

I was, apparently, nearly unrecognizable with half of my throat torn away and nearly all of the blood drained from my body. She told me I was blue in the face; it looked like I had been dead for weeks and not merely a night.

Lisa was supposed to arrange my funeral, but my body went missing from the city’s morgue later that night. As we both know now, my former coven leader had taken me out to watch over my transition carefully.

She couldn’t sleep for weeks. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw my corpse, and she thought it was her fault. Loving her is what killed me. I told her she was wrong. Loving her is the only thing that kept me going in life and in undeath.

“I became obsessive…” Lisa mumbled into the crook of my neck. “I didn’t want to live anymore, but there was always something about your death that felt so unnatural to me.”

She sought out a vampire of her own. How she did it, I’ll never know, but she always was driven when she had a clear goal in mind. The vampire had a penchant for drinking from their own kind, taboo but not unheard of—especially in the days when it was so dangerous to hunt humans. Lisa had struck a deal that if she turned her and helped stage a suicide, the older vamp could use Lisa as a blood bag.

It only took a month for Lisa to turn on her and rip the older vamp’s throat out when she was too hungry and weak to fight back.

We both laid in silence, considering our long history and time apart, but eventually, Lisa broke the silence with a soft whisper, “Will you promise me something?”

I hummed.

“Promise me we won’t lose each other again.”

I smiled gently, looking over to meet Lisa’s golden eyes. They looked so sad, but no tears fell. Centuries of tears had been shed over our lost love. No more ever would be.

“I promise you, my eternal love. I will be with you until the end of times.”

[cursedvibes]

ive been thinking lately of tengen's and kenjaku's techniques being two sides of the same coin.. both of them using others' bodies to prolong their lives. this is kind of word vomit and aimless, but it makes me think about that one dialogue between mahito and kenjaku about techniques dictating their worlds... both of their goals are kind of similar too, though where tengen seeks the upholding of foundation, kenjaku seeks to unravel it. these two have so much unexplored drama. what are your thoughts ?

Oh yes there are absolutely dichotomies between their techniques, their immortality and how they use the bodies of others! So when we look at Tengen's immortality for example, it's something constant. She ages and she will eventually evolve, but her life is something immutable that will go on without her actively doing anything to uphold it. Kenjaku on the other hand has a much more fragile immortality you could say. It's tied to their current vessels and likely they would die with their vessels if they don't change again. Meaning, they have to do something to keep living, it involves their active involvement. They couldn't just lock themselves in a tree for a couple hundred years and come out as if nothing happened. They have to maintain their vessel and interact with others to keep living.

Similarly with how they use their vessels and how they react to change. When Kenjaku changes bodies they take in other people's memories, their cursed energy and to an extent their life. Of course they still hold onto their own identity, but they still use who this person was before and learn something from their experiences like how they used Geto's memories to trick Gojo or take his CT and improve upon it. Or how they take Noritoshi's resistance to the Death Painting blood with them even long after he's dead, similar to saving Kaori's CT. Or with EdoKen, they adjusted their way of living to what the body is physically capable of. If the vessel is weak, it makes Kenjaku weaker too.

Tengen on the other hand uses her vessels to resist change. Physically speaking, the Star Plasma Vessels are a reflection of her. She describes it literally as merging with herself. Riko might've had her own little life and Tengen let her have some fun, but when the merger happens, she is still just a fragment of Tengen that loses any individuality and whose experiences have no impact on Tengen. She can't even hear their voices. They might as well not exist anymore because to her they have entirely become part of her and actually were never anything more than that.

She uses the vessels to reaffirm herself and desperately turn back time to go back to what she used to be and uphold the status quo. No ambiguity, no new possibilities with what she could become, she's just sticking to what she knows. We know that all sorcerers who take over a vessel gain their memories (a little different in Kenjaku's case, since they are the only person who uses dead bodies) and usually use their memories to orient themselves better in modern times. Tengen however doesn't seem to learn anything from her vessels. Even with a vessel that's still alive like Yuki, she only really sees her as a petulant child and doesn't take her words and anger all that serious. For a long time she apparently didn't even allow her to come close to talk to her. She is on some level curious about the SPVs, what they might be saying about her, but in the end they all get dismissed because she is older and more experienced and wiser and knows it better. Same way she treats Kenjaku honestly. Not that Kenjaku is like altruistic in how they perceive their vessel's, but they are more involved than her and gain more from them than just a meatsuit.

[idyllic-affections]

for your happiness, dearest one.

summary. if it were for their happiness, signora would gladly cleanse the world a hundred times over. trigger & content warnings. major character death (not the reader) & descriptions of grief. inazuma archon quest spoilers. tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. angst. la signora & younger sibling!reader. 2.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. author's thoughts. pov signora but as a big sister!! idk i really like her, shes very neat in my opinion. yes i am a venti liker and yes i am also a signora liker! she kinda deserved to kick him. just a lil bit..... fun fact about this fic: [name] addresses ei as baal rather than beelzebul because they dont know about makoto. another fun fact: signora says she'll never truly abandon [name], and she didnt. that flame moth seems suspiciously attached to them, after all <3

       Rosalyne, commonly known as La Signora, was many things.

       She was the cold, calculated Eighth Fatui Harbinger who tended to use lethal force against all but one of her underlings. She was the Harbinger who, prior to joining the Fatui, nearly burned herself out within the scorching flames of her boundless fury. She was confident, cunning, and sadistic in certain ways.

       La Signora was many things, but few other than The Tsaritsa herself and some of the other Harbingers knew she was a big sister, and the only underling she was ever kind to was her younger sibling. She was a big sister and, to anyone's blatant surprise, a wonderful one. She was never cruel or unnecessarily harsh towards them, and extended what little remained of the patience and gentleness in her heart to them exclusively. It was a privilege only they possessed. There was not a single Fatuus—hell, not a single person in all of Teyvat that Signora favored more than her dear baby sibling.

       To the Eighth, they were everything. She wished to burn away Teyvat's ugliness—if not for her own sake, then for the sake of her precious little sibling, because they had suffered just as much as she had. It was her and her job alone to protect them from any more pain. They deserved the world, but Signora would not dare give it to them, for they did not deserve its cruelty. They deserved only the best, and the world was simply not on par with that. The world was unkind, disgusting, and utterly revolting. They deserved better than that.

       Perhaps that was why she spoiled them in the ways she did; if she could not give them the best version of the world, then she could take them on shopping sprees in Fontaine or to expensive restaurants in Liyue that left little to no impact on her savings. If they were to express interest in something, it was guarunteed to be on their bedside table the next morning. Spoiled as they were, they still never failed to express their gratitude to her. It was one of the things she adored about them. How could she have nurtured such a humble, gentle soul, when she was anything but?

       Truly, the Harbinger would do anything to distract them from the pain they had experienced. She knew deep down that there was no easing the agony. She knew that all too well, for even without all of the memories of her past, her bitterness and bias shone blatantly through when Mondstadt and its Archon was involved (and, despite not saying this aloud, they didn't completely blame her, as they had their own reservations about Barbatos).

       If it were for their happiness, Signora would gladly cleanse the world a hundred times over.

       "Will you take me to Inazuma with you, Rosalyne?" they wondered softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of their sister skillfully—albeit absentmindedly—massaging their scalp. "I hear it's a beautiful nation. I'd like to experience it with you, even if it's technically a buisness trip..."

       La Signora had long forgotten most of her past, courtesy of the Cryo Delusion gifted to her by the Tsaritsa herself. It was used to suppress her flames so that she did not burn away into nothing but ash. Even so, they never stopped calling her Rosalyne when they were alone together, for to them, she was still their same big sister from five hundred years ago. To them, it was like nothing had changed; they knew better, of course, for the amount of things that had changed since their days of living peacefully in Mondstadt were unfathomable. Even so, they still truly believed that their big sister was still there underneath the defensive layers of ice and fire. Wholeheartedly, they believed that Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter was still there.

       She found it... endearing.

       Despite everything, they still saw her as Rosalyne, not La Signora, not the Fair Lady, and certainly not the Crimson Witch of Flames nor Embers. Even if she could not recall her past, she did at least remember who she was.

       She was Rosalyne, their big sister.

       She would always be Rosalyne. Always.

       "...I will," she responded, though not before a long moment of serious contemplation. She agreed to take them to Mondstadt only because the Anemo Archon was notoriously weak (at least, that's what she believed; they knew better than that), and she took them to Liyue since a contract had already been established between Rex Lapis and the Tsaritsa, but the Electro Archon was a different case entirely. Even the ever-confident La Signora acknowledged that. "Inazuma is different than Mondstadt and Liyue. As such, you are to do as I say without question, understood?"

       "Of course. You know I would never do anything that you do not agree with." They peered up at her, lips curling up into a sweet smile. "I trust you."

       Her gaze, steely and cold, softened significantly. She leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to their forehead. "...Good. Now go. Return to your quarters and prepare a bag with whatever you deem necessary. We will leave in the morning."

              — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       Inazuma was breathtaking.

       Tenshukaku, however, was less so.

       "...Do we really have to go in?" they wondered softly, hands smoothing anxiously over their shirt. Their voice betrayed their stance and expression—both being cool and impassive, managing to wordlessly communicate the same confidence Signora always seemed to have.

       Though they were never really like her in that respect, they had to at least pretend to be. Their behaviors would reflect their older sister as their teacher. She had a reputation to uphold. They were always careful not to damage it in the slightest.

       Adrenaline flooded their veins. Dread dug its fingers around their throat, making breathing suddenly seem more challenging. They didn't like this place. No, no, not at all. Tenshukaku, though admirable and elegant, had a terribly suffocating aura surrounding it. Perhaps it was merely the Shogun's elemental energy that made them uneasy, but something was putting them on edge. They truly couldn't be sure if it was their razor-sharp intuition or just the presence of a powerful God.

       It felt inexplicably as if, assuming they and their sister both were to step into that dreadful building, one or both of them might not come back out.

       The woman hummed, moving so that she was in front of them. Her hard gaze softened slightly. She straightened their collar, before delicately plucking off a stray hair off of their shoulder. "Yes. Walk in with your head held high. We are Snezhnayan diplomats. More importantly, you are my sibling. You are like me. You've handled these situations with confidence and grace up until now. I see no reason for you to suddenly change."

       They swallowed back their sudden wave of panic, giving her a firm nod. "Right. My bad."

       "You needn't speak to the Shogun. Only speak if you are spoken to. I will handle everything. If things go according to plan, she shouldn't spare you more than a glance."

       They exhaled through their nose, calming their rapidly pounding heart. "Alright."

              — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       It was in front of Mondstadt's cathedral that they and their elder sister would dance together to the lively songs played by bards—some who were familiar locals, others complete strangers that happened to be wandering Teyvat. A crowd would always gather. Regardless of who one was, from Mondstadt or anywhere else, none could deny that there were few things more endearing and uplifting than seeing those two dance together.

       Rosalyne raised a hand, twirling them around as they laughed delightedly. She pulled them back in, wrapping her arms lovingly around their neck with a contented sigh. They were quick to return the gesture, though instead their arms made their way around her waist. The woman raised one hand and stroked it over their hair. A soft hum rose from their throat.

       "I love you dearly. I'll be away for a while, but I promise, I swear on the Seven that I will never truly abandon you."

       "I know," they replied softly, gazing up at her with eyes full of unadulterated admiration. "I love you too."

       That memory—one among many of them and their sister from five centuries ago—was one they held oh-so dearly. She promised not to leave them. Rosalyne did not take her promises lightly, so how...

       How could it have possibly ended like this?

       They could already feel a deep, gaping hole forming in their chest with the absence of the one person that mattered in their life.

       A strangled sob left their throat. "No, no... oh, Gods..." They tried to grasp at what remained of their elder sister. The fine grains of ash merely slipped between their fingers, but that didn't seem to deter them. "No... Rosalyne, why? Why? You could've lived, you... why didn't you run? You were never supposed to abandon me, Rosalyne." 

       Their eyes burned with tears; whether they were tears of utter distress or anger, no-one could be sure. It seemed more likely that it was a dreadful mix of both, for as the Cryo Vision secured on their hip began to shimmer, the temperature in the room dropped immeasurably. With the transition from terror and despair to a blinding rage came the unforgiving, biting chill of Snezhnayan winters. A thin layer of frost descended upon all surfaces in the room.

       Signora may have nearly drowned in the flames of her anger, but unlike her, they would freeze in the impenetrable ice of their's. Their rage ran so hot that it was cold.

       Perhaps these behaviors simply ran in their family, for both they and Signora shared a tendency to be extremely passionate about all that they did. The issue was that that passion, when perpetuated by painful situations, became all-consuming and inevitably fatal if they were to fail to reign in their fury. 

       Signora's passion had once fueled her flames. Their passion now fueled their ice.

       The traveller and Paimon both shuddered, recoiling from the sudden temperature change.

       "You..." they murmured, eyes snapping up towards the Shogun. If looks could kill, she would have dropped dead the second their frigid gaze landed on her. Unfortunately, striking down a deity took quite a lot more than a simple glare. "How dare you? Who do you think you are to take her away from me like that? You— you..."

       The God of Eternity stood unfazed, unbothered by their emotional outburst. Their eyes flickered briefly to her blade. If they didnt know better, they'd raise their Anemo Delusion to her. They'd risk losing their mind or even dying due to the toll Delusions took on one's body. They'd risk it all just to avenge their fallen sister if they didn't know better.

       However, they did know better.

       Rosalyne was adamant on ensuring that they were wise and wouldn't put themselves in a situation that they couldn't emerge safely from. She did exactly what she warned them about. She wouldn't want them to follow her example, no. Rosalyne would want nothing more than to see them learn from her mistakes.

       A stray flame moth landed on their shoulder, only strengthening their frozen resolve.

       They had a feeling that the little being, radiating a soothing warmth that managed to melt away their ice and warm them both inside and out, would not part from their side anytime soon.

       "Tch," they scoffed, rising to their feet with clenched fists. As if they hadn't broken down crying a few seconds ago, their gaze hardened, and their stance was as confident and firm as ever. They brushed the stray frost off of the shoulder that the moth had not settled on. "Her Majesty truly is the only Archon with the purest of goals. You disgust me," they spat, turning away with an elegant flick of their coat. "Goodbye, Baal. I no longer have any buisness here."

       As they departed, their steps left behind small patches of ice.

       Before they exited, they mused threateningly, "The Tsaritsa will hear of this... incident. Your blatant disregard for the safety Snezhnayan diplomats will not go unpunished, Inazuman laws be damned."

              — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       Upon being summoned to the Cryo Archon's throne room in the palace, their immediate assumption was that they would be punished. Perhaps they had spoken out of line to the Shogun. Did they displease their God? Archons, they hoped not. A pissed off Cryo user was one thing, but enraging the Cryo Archon herself? That was nothing short of a death sentence, surely. 

       Despite their natural fear for the deity, they barely seemed fazed as they treaded towards her throne room. All they could focus on was the heavy emptiness lingering in their chest. The flame moth had still failed to part from them. It seemed to bat its wings against their chilled skin in an attempt to soothe them. Its efforts were to no avail.

       'Why did you leave me here, Rosalyne?'

       They kept their gaze directed downwards as they entered the infamous throne room, lower-ranked Fatui shutting the doors behind them. Despite the unmistakable below-freezing temperatures of the room, sweat rolled down the side of their forehead at the echo of the doors closing. The floor seemed to sway underneath their unsteady feet. They weren't sure if they'd even have the strength to stand for much longer.

       Their mind was in utter shambles.

       Now, they were truly trapped in here—not that they would have dared to try and flee, but something about being officially trapped in the same room as the Tsaritsa herself ignited a primal terror buried in the depths of their mind. Rarely did they even pass by this room; they were not a Harbinger and so they did not report directly to their Goddess. They'd only ever met her once before, and that was... perhaps four or five centuries ago.

       They kneeled a few feet in front of her throne, clearing their dry throat. They willed their body to cease its shaking. "Good evening, Your Majesty."

       "Such a formal one you are. Rosalyne taught you well," she lilted softly. "You have earned my praise, [Name]."

       Their breath hitched slightly.

       "You have shown great discipline and elegance despite recent events. Your judgement was not clouded by confidence or rage. This is something your elder sister did not succeed at—may she rest in peace. I will ensure that the entire nation sufficiently mourns her loss. No sacrifice will have been in vain when we win the divine rebellion."

       They rapidly blinked in an attempt to rid their eyes of the tears threatening to spill over. Their voice cracked slightly as they murmured barely above the volume of a whisper, "Of course. I will never forget that. Your goal is of such purity, Your Highness... I will do anything to help you succeed."

       The woman hummed thoughtfully. "Anything, you say?"

       "Anything, especially in light of recent events. I have nothing but my life left to lose. I would gladly give it up in your honor, should that be your will." A stray tear rolled down their cheek. "I have nothing left to lose."

       "In that case," she mused, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on the bridge they created, "inherit La Signora's position. Become the Eighth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers."

       Wide-eyed, they snapped their gaze up towards her, only to frantically look back down at the floor. Perhaps they wouldn't be punished for looking at her directly, but the shooting chills her gaze sent tingling across their skin was enough for them to not want to regardless. "Y... your highness, surely I am not strong enough to—"

       "Nonesense. I have seen you best Tartaglia effortlessly—you barely even broke a sweat, while he expended his strength in full. As such, I have no doubt that you are fit to fill the vacant Eighth position."

       Silence.

       "In..." Their voice came out embarrassingly meek and timid on their first attempt, so they took a breath and tried again. "In that case, if you truly feel that way about me, I graciously accept your kind offer."

       Her lips twitched upwards, forming the ghost of a barely noticable smile. "Wonderful. Welcome to our ranks, Scappino."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[nordickies]

Hi! I finally read that amazing family headcanon post. ❤️ Been sitting in my drafts forever. 😭 And I had a small question. Apologies if it's been asked before and I missed it, but there was a mention of "fading memories" -- in ref to Norway. I was wondering if maybe there was more to that?

Sure, I don't think I have discussed this before. And love to hear that you liked the headcanons!!

The way I think memories in Nationverse work is that they're quite short-lived and unreliable. Nations can keep the memories of a single human lifetime, but as they grow older, the memories of the past decades slowly fade away. Would be kind of crazy if they could store centuries' worth of memories anyway, brains are not built for that. They may hold rememberings of a few key moments in their lives, but they're few and far between. That is why Nations are not much of use when it comes to studying history or trying to solve mysteries where the Nations themselves may have even been present. Simply put, they can't recall that memory. Or the faint memory they might still have has most likely been distorted by the world around them and subtly changed every time they thought about it. Just like real human memories. But the mind can also be unpredictable. Maybe a certain smell or a sound can trigger their memory, or the feeling of that memory, even from hundreds of years ago

Plus, maybe the most grimly, I think when a Nation/personification dies, they come back as a mentally different person - if they even come back. Long periods of unconsciousness, or experienced death, would impact Nations’ ability to remember anything, let alone their own past. So when they come back, their personalities might be completely different as well. Ah, I have so many ideas for how death works in my Nationverse AU. But it takes a while before the dead Nation might appear again. They get funerals and they are buried (whatever method is the custom of the place/time) and people grieve for them. But when the Nation returns, they have no idea who they are and they have lost all of their memories. Sometimes it's comforting in a way, like starting from a clean slate, but it's heartbreaking never less, especially for their loved ones. So even though Nations are practically immortals, they don't go out and seek death just for the fun of it. It's actually very serious and painful, and your return is never guaranteed

I love the concept of immortality in fiction but I hate when there are no stakes involved with it. And honestly, isn't it so much more tragic that you'd have to grieve for the loss of your loved one - only for them to return at some point and have no memory of themselves, or you?

And yes, in my AU, there have been deaths in the Nordic family too

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I have more thoughts about Chalice of the Gods

When I was getting through the first hundred pages or so I was a little :/ prob because I’m getting back into the books over a decade later and I had Expectations that I didn’t have as a kid. You could have thrown anything at me and I would have been DELIGHTED just to hear more of Percy’s story. I think the nostalgia factor was actually kind of a negative for me because I kept getting mad at the modern references and how low the stakes seemed to be. I did see a post about how it was good that Rick kept the books at whatever time he wrote them (in terms of references) because it’s literally just like the olympians growing and modernizing. You can’t stay stuck in the past. And I think keeping that perspective in mind will make rereads a lot more fun.

The low stakes seemed to bother me just because we’re so used to seeing Percy in horrible world ending situations and we just got out of HOO. But he really did deserve a break and it was helpful with developing his characterization

I didn’t expect the books to make me feel so emotional! I’ve been out of the horrifying college admissions process for a while now. But the questions he was wrestling with were very universal. At this point he’s accepted that the gods are what they are. There’s not much he can do to change them. He has to focus on himself and his future. And I am a little disappointed that his goals all seem to be around Annabeth. Like I love them but also he’s going to new Rome JUST for her it seems. But also when I was in high school I decided to go to college because that’s what Everyone Does right. I didn’t know trade school was an option. Feeling a little bit like ur life is on a set path and your choices are controlled by other people a bit was at least part of my high school experience. But also from a story perspective it does make sense that he wants to stick with Annabeth! They’ve been through a ridiculous amount together.

Sally having a kid and the emotions that it brought up was also a good way to show that transitional period between leaving home and starting a new life. Your parents are going to move on and do their own thing and their lives won’t revolve around you anymore. Also in general the whole Paul/sally/percy/annabeth dynamic was fucking amazing. The way Paul and sally accepted Annabeth into their lives and how happy they all are is what she fucking deserves!!

I think the end is what really got me. Some of it felt really silly and I did absolutely roll my eyes when Percy told the god he loved him and hugged him. But also him ACCEPTING that he would likely get old was so cathartic. This is a boy who was supposed to die at 16. And barely escaped death again after having his memories wiped and falling into fucking Tartarus. Hes never gotten a break and hes said, in multiple books, that he expects to die very young. This is the first time he says ‘wait I might survive this. I might get old and if I do it’ll be by Annabeth and Grover’s side.’ Percy fucking Jackson who has been the subject of COUNTLESS prophecies, who is reminded time and time again that he isn’t supposed to exist, even by people that he loves, (that was a lil mean of u in the intro Poseidon) CHOOSES to accept that he might get old. Like of course this boy doesn’t have much of a plan for his life yet other than ?? Follow Annabeth?? When has he gotten a chance to think about it!

This is something I did project upon a bit because I didn’t except to live to 18! Or 20! Or 22! And it’s only now at 24 that I’m starting to Accept that I might be here a little longer than I expected and now I have to Plan Accordingly. Like I have to learn these stupid life skills and figure out what I Want from my life now. And unlike Percy, I’m a little angry about it lol because I never expected to have this problem!! But, I too, am slowly accepting that time on earth is a gift or whatever. At the very least I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future so I might as well use it to learn who I am. I GUESS. In my life, Death has always been this ever-present choice I could take if things got a little too tough and I don’t know if that door will ever fully close but I have been dragged away from it kicking and screaming so. Might as well stick around. I’m still a little bitter about it honestly but I’ll get over it. I have to learn how to COOK guys. How fucked up is that. To care about the mundane all of a sudden??

Anyways. I doubt that’s the metaphor Rick was going for, it was probably more of a ‘your childhood ends! You’re gonna get older and that’s a good thing’ instead of a ‘one day you might not have killed yourself and you’ll realize that you’re actually stuck living this life and you gotta learn to fucking deal with it.’

Ok I could go on for hours so this is the last thing. Percy’s conversation with Poseidon, about how small waves are the ones that matter the most, REALLY resonated with me. Like I think I teared up at two parts of this book, the old age part and the conversation with between them at the end. It’s really easy to convince yourself that the way you alter your life is through Sweeping All-Consuming Change where you move to a different continent and begin anew. Unfortunately, through bitter experience, I’ve learned that’s not how things fucking work. Changing your surroundings does lead to new experiences but it doesn’t make ur problems go away! I moved halfway across the state and got what I genuinely believe is the best job on earth and I. Still have the same issues?? And then I thought ok maybe I was wrong this Wasn’t the best job I just need to find one that’s Better but that’s. Not how things work.

This is getting away from me but basically what I’m trying to say is u can make grand changes and it might fix u for a little while but unfortunately you have to put in the work and do the stupid boring mundane things like go on walks and journal and exercise and do things that scare the fuck out of u to actually change and grow and it’s so goddamn annoying. I should be able to become a different person just by being somewhere else but I can’t.

Wait I’m supposed to be relating this to Percy Jackson. So Percy can go on these life altering world defining quests right. And make all the right choices. But who he is at his core is defined by the choices that he makes when the stakes aren’t that high. When it would be So Easy to walk away from Ganymede and go live his life. And I know some people didn’t like that Poseidon was like ‘this is when I knew you were a hero’ of fucking COURSE he knows Percy has been this hero his whole life. But he’s also this person when there isn’t some prophecy, when he doesn’t have to be, when it’s just a mild inconvenience. It’s easy to talk about changing the world. It’s harder to go out there and take those little baby steps that don’t feel like they matter all that much. He has actually changed the world and just not talked about it but hopefully u get what I’m saying. I just liked that thing about small waves being able to sweep you off your feet when you didn’t expect it ok!! Most change is incremental!!

Ok that’s it. Loved Chalice, will probably enjoy it more on a reread and it resonated with me in ways I didn’t expect.

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

✏️"what are your current WIPs about?"

Thanks for playing with me, @kaylinalexanderbooks!

I have several WIPS right now, so this could be interesting.

Caraval- A Hannibal (NBC) sort of crossover/rewrite of the book Caraval by Stephanie Garber. It's also omega verse, with Will being an omega, Hannibal an alpha, and so on for the various characters who appear. Will must play a magical game that plays tricks on the mind and involves magic to find his sister (Abigail) over the course of five nights, searching for clues so he can find her before the other players and win. Hannibal, who initially brings them to the island where Master Legend hosts Caraval, teams up with him. As they play, Will realizes the game is far darker than it appears and that it is a race against the clock to find Abigail, because it is far more than a game.

Long list, so the rest are under the cut.

2. For Remembrance- A post-fall Murder Husbands story for my collection, Words Are Not The Only Way, centering on my chosen flower (rosemary) and its meaning. Won't say too much, but there is amnesia and rosemary plays a part in trying to help the amnesiac person recover their memories.

3. All Night or a Hundred Years- A Fantastic Beasts story from the POV of Percival Graves, who has been locked up in the dungeons of Nurmengard for a long time. Leta, rather than dying, is secreted away by Grindelwald in the dungeon as well, and she is helping Percival remember what it is like to be human and giving him something he hasn't had in a long time: Hope. They are getting to know each other and trying to figure out if they can escape, and how. Percival is close to giving up, but Leta won't take it. This one is on hiatus, however, because writer's block is a bitch.

4. Untangled- A Fantastic Beasts version of the Disney movie Tangled, with Newt as Rapunzel, Tina as Flynn, Grindelwald as Mother Gothel, and Theseus as Maximus, along with a bunch of the other FB crew members taking roles. Currently paused in favor of Caraval. Things are switched up in this, because Tina has the case of beasts instead of Newt. It's cheerful and fun and I sort of don't want to finish it because of that, so I'm being slow.

5. The Third Day- A Hannibal (NBC) rewrite of the HBO show The Third Day. Will is getting divorced from Molly and is grieving Abigail, who died under mysterious circumstances several years earlier. He meets Mischa in the woods, where is trying to hang herself, and takes her back to the place she lives, where he becomes trapped for three days and nights. Hannibal, Alana, Jack, Bella, Margot, Mason, and several other characters star as the residents trying to either run Will off the island or keep him there as he uncovers mysteries tied to himself and Abigail's death, as well as all the weirdness on the island.

7. Beloved- This is being scrapped and will be rewritten as a sequel to another story, His Shadow Suspended On Dust. Initially, it was a thirty-years post-fall story about Hannibal getting sick and Will taking care of him and living through his last days with him. Some of the original will remain, but it will be heavily rewritten, and there will be another story, called When the Snake Slithers By, between it and HSSOD.

8. The Lone City- A Pokemon anime rewrite of a favorite book of mine, called The Jewel by Amy Ewing. Starring Mairin, it centered on girls being sold off into surrogate slavery for the ruling class of the island, who became so inbred they can no longer safely carry their own children. Sort of a magical Handmaid's Tale, but with Pokemon twists. It was going to lead to Mairin uncovering the truth, falling in love with Alain, and escaping and so forth, but it's been on hiatus due to computer trouble, and I don't think I'm ever going to actually go back to it since it 's been more than a year.

9. Han+SPN- Temporary title, an attempted Hannibal/Supernatural crossover co-written by @ sarcasticsciencefictionwriter. Sam and Dean are driving through Maryland one night and Dean hits Will, who is a ravenstag, with Baby. Will is pregnant and fleeing hunters who are coming after him and Hannibal, who is half ravenstag, for being cannibals and want to kill their baby as well. The Winchesters learn that ravenstags only take what they need and chose harmful people as their victims (i.e, the rude), and end up teaming up with Will to save Hannibal from the hunters after Bobby, who saved Will when he was a fawn, tells them to. Currently paused because I didn't come up with much an outline and Sarc can't work with that. I'm playing with idea that Sam and Dean might have to deliver the baby.

I believe that is all my WIPS, unless you want to count the to-be-written finale to my collection, the Price of Godhood, where Will is Persephone and Hannibal is Hades, which will be about Will going to the world above on the first day of spring and saying goodbye to husband for six months.

Thanks so much for the ask! I've never done this before and I was so much fun! Feel free to hit me up again!

[melis-writes]

Prompt for Victoria being with Michael in Cuba on one of his trips. Sex in a big fancy hotel room after a day at the beach and/or pool club, both wearing swimmers all day!!

Oooooh, yes!! A fun, sexy trip putting all that business aside for a little while with Michael and Victoria. 🥴 Just imagining wet Michael stepping out of the pool is enough… Bit on the longer end with a major warning for lots and lots of smut in this prompt. 🥵🥵🥵

Most of Nevada and New York may know just who you and Michael are for all the right and wrong reasons, but the infamous Corleone couple matters little outside the country as Michael discovered with his own identity when he first flew to Cuba.

Physical distance aside, Michael’s first visit to Cuba a few years back promised danger for himself with all signs pointing to convenient assassinations—hence why Michael absolutely refused to take you and the children with him.

Sleeping alone and wondering about your husband over two thousand miles away from night to night never compared to raising two little ones missing their father too, especially with such risk.

Michael and his only trusted business partner in Cuba communicated through associates and out of state visits, but with Hyman Roth and Johnny Ola both dead and out of the way, Michael has more than just claims and inheritance with his name on it in Cuba.

Being able to fly down without the possibility of discovering betrayal or planning someone else’s death as revenge sates Michael’s craving for your presence.

After all, Michael knows if it’s truly up to him with your safety secured, then he’s never against the idea of bringing his wife with him upon business trips.

Opting for a private jet to take you both to Cuba in the lap of luxury, Michael keeps an arm over your hips upon the leather loveseat you both sit together on.

“Thank you,” you smile up at the hostess who pours the two of you glasses of five-hundred dollar bubbling champagne.

Michael takes a glance at his 18k gold wristwatch before taking his champagne glass and taking a small sip from it—never opting for anything else but red wine from time to time.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Michael’s eyes fall upon yours.

You hold your champagne glass in your hand, letting out a soft sigh through your travel exhaustion beginning to grow on you, but your overall excitement to spend the trip with Michael overpowers it with the soft smile over your lips. “I can definitely say it’s the longest flight I’ve ever been on.”

“Fifteen hours.” Michael adjusts his watch, giving your hips a gentle rub. “We’re halfway through. Time’s passing by much more quickly.”

“I can guess why.” You peek up at your husband, drinking your champagne. “You’re not as stressed or insistent to go. Not like last time.”

“Mm. You weren’t with me last time, yet you know?” A hint of amusement flashes in Michael’s eyes.

“I know you too well, baby.” You blush, leaning up to give Michael’s cheek a kiss. “We’re replacing that memory as we speak.”

“Believe me, I’d like to above all.” Michael exhales deeply, relaxing in his seat. “I didn’t imagine there would be anything for our family in Havana after Roth and Ricci.”

“You’re a good man, Michael.” You place your hand over Michael’s upon your waist. “And yet again, everything’s worked out for our family.”

“That’s all that matters.” Michael gazes back at you. “There’s more ‘rest and relaxation’ than anything this time around.”

“So you can think of it as a vacation instead of a business trip.” You hug his arm, taking another sip of your champagne. “It’ll help relax you.”

“Only for you, darling.” Michael sets down his drink, lacing his hand with yours. “I aim to make up for all the time I couldn’t spend with you elsewhere.”

“Business aside, I still have you mostly to myself.” You squeeze Michael’s hand, smiling shyly. “I’m just happy to support you always, baby.”

Your arrival to the luxurious hotel booked under “Mr. and Mrs. Corleone” is nothing short of surprises from the private limousine ride onward.

A five class hotel known all too well for being booked months in advance with a separate, VIP wing for presidential suites on each floor with the best room available with security is all for you and Michael to enjoy alone.

A private pool remains just outside the suite on the main balcony, away from prying and curious eyes while the back balcony contains a hot tub able to comfortably fit up to twenty people.

Boasting two thousand square feet throughout the suite with three bedrooms, four bathrooms, a steam room and gas fireplace with twenty-four hour unlimited service, Michael’s ensured nothing but the best of comfort and enjoyment for you.

“Oh my God,” you mouth to yourself in awe from the moment you step into the suite.

“It reminds me of what you told me when we were still getting to know one another,” holding your hand, Michael leads you inside as his and your luggage is neatly placed inside of the room. “Memories over material items?”

Your cheeks flare up with blush, surprised from Michael remembering such a detail. “But that didn’t apply for our first anniversary or my birthday when you bought us a villa in Sicily and a new car for me?”

“I told you,” Michael chuckles quietly, locking the suite door behind him. “You deserve the best and only the best. That is what you shall have.”

“This place is so beautiful, I don’t know what to say.” You shake your head, finding something new and exhilarating to look at with every glance you take. “Did you stay in a suite like this when you first came?”

“Not quite.” Michael follows you over to the balcony. “A VIP suite nonetheless, the best the hotel had to offer but it pales in comparison to this. I spent very little time in there,” Michael’s eyes dart over yours expectantly as you both walk out into the balcony. “Until a call came in from Lake Tahoe.”

Furiously blushing, you turn your head away. “I’m jetlagged and being teased at the same time. Oh, I can’t believe you remember that.”

But then again, that was one of the few and intimate times you and Michael dirty talked to each other on call and had phone sex—touching yourselves to each others voices and teasing.

“Another reason why it’s good for the children to spend time with their grandparents while we’re here.” Michael pulls you close to his body by your hips. “You’re mine,” Michael’s eyes meet yours, smoldering with desire. “And I’ll take you in every bed and room this suite has.”

A rush of arousal tingles through your body as your breath hitches. “You owe me that much.”

“Do I?” Michael raises a brow. “I won’t have any use for this,” Michael tugs on his silk tie, “certainly not over your mouth. The walls are soundproof.”

“If you want me to beg, Don Corleone…” You wrap your arms around Michael’s shoulders, teasing him. “You certainly know how.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” Michael’s hand travels underneath your little black dress, caressing your inner thigh. “Go into the central suite’s bathroom. You’ll find something in your favour upon the countertop. I’ll be right behind you.”

You whine softly, “you’re just teasing me. You are.”

“Am I?” Michael gives your ass a firm smack, gesturing back inside the suite. “Go on.”

Biting down on your lip, you enter back into the suite and feel arousal continuing to rush and pump through you with every step you take.

Sensing Michael behind you, you make your way into the master bathroom and turn on the lights—seeing two sinks over quartz countertops, two grand ornate mirrors with gold finishes, sparkling marble floors and a massive bathtub to your right but nothing over the countertop.

You glance up in the mirror to see Michael’s reflection just behind you, but before you can express confusion or say anything else, you feel his firm hands suddenly pressing your hips to bend over the countertop.

“Michael!” You gasp out, clutching onto the countertop for balance.

“I told you.” Michael’s hands snake up your dress, pulling down your panties to your ankles. “You would get what you were searching for.”

“Oh my God,” you whimper, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Michael, please—”

“You wore this dress again.” Michael’s eyes burn back into yours as he hikes up the tight dress over your hips. “You remember what I told you about it last time?”

“Who says I forgot?” You breathe, clenching your legs together.

“Don’t.” Michael narrows his eyes, forcefully spreading them open. “I’m not going to give you what you want just yet.”

“I—Ooh!” Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise as Michael swiftly lowers his head down, planting a wet kiss over your spread pussy. “M-Michael…”

Michael’s hot, wet tongue brushes up against your clit in flickering motions, sending waves of pulsating arousal through you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to stop the breathy little moans and whimpers escaping for your lips as your body begs for more.

Michael keeps both of his hands over your ass, squeezing and spanking as his tongue hungrily darts over your dripping sex.

“Oh my God, yes!” You cry out as Michael slobbers down over your pussy, pushing his mouth over it as he laps up your wetness.

The stimulation over your clit from Michael’s stubble brushing up against it causes you to roll your eyes back from pleasure, building up a delicious orgasm in the pit of your stomach.

Helplessly watching yourself in the mirror as your hands begin to shake against the countertops, Michael continues to suck over your clit and let his spit slobber in and around your tight heat.

Licking and slurping upwards at your clit, Michael never stops his greedy pace. You gyrate your hips downward towards his mouth, having to clasp your hand over your mouth to silence yourself.

Just as you feel you’re on the verge of cumming, Michael’s hands begin to rub tenderly in the creases of your upper thighs before he slowly parts his mouth away.

“M-Michael?” You pant, feeling your orgasm begin to dwindle away from you.

Leaving you aching for more, a string of spit separates from Michael’s mouth and your pussy as he pulls back.

“You don’t get to cum unless I say so.” Michael licks off his lips, rising back up to his feet. “And—” He grasps the sides of your throat, pulling your head back against his shoulder.

You giggle breathily, all the more turned on by his rough actions.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself.” Michael whispers back to you before abdruptly letting you go and turning to exit the bathroom.

“What?” You whimper, shakily pulling up your panties. “We just got here, where are you going?”

“I have a business meeting in twenty minutes, darling.” Michael adjusts his tie walking towards his luggage. “Are you going to hold out for that long?”

“Please,” you rub over your blushing cheeks, looking away. “Think I’m that needy?”

“I do.” Michael picks up his suitcase. “And I want to find you here when I’m back.”

“I won’t go anywhere, Don Corleone.” You teasingly let the straps of your panties slap against your skin. “But I’m going to make good use of that pool. When will you be back?”

“Sooner than you think.” Michael’s eyes dart up and down your body. “Be a good girl and behave until then.”

~

Even five minutes after Michael’s cleaned up and left for his business meeting at the hotel, the aching and pulsating feeling in your clit hasn’t subsided.

“God,” you whimper to yourself quietly, pulling off your panties and feeling the wet fabric slowly part from your pussy lips.

Your eyes fall over the king sized bed, eyeing the swan shaped towels by the foot of it.

Instead of picturing yourself laying down and toying with your clit until you cum, all you can think of is those slender fingers of Michael’s doing it for you while the two of you maintain eye contact.

Attempting to push aside your hot and bothered thoughts, you hang up your little black dress in the closet and toss your panties into the laundry hamper.

Unhooking off your bra as you approach your luggage, you take out one of your favourite bikinis—a cherry red set and a beach towel before beginning to put them on.

You adjust the straps of your bikini in front of the full-body mirror by the bed, humming quietly to yourself as you let your hair down your shoulders.

Wrapping the bath towel around your waist, you pop open the mini fridge by the bed and grab a bottle of unscrewed white wine and a glass before you make your way out to the pool.

The afternoon sun shines brightly over the pool but from the architectural style of both the swimming pool and balcony, it provides ultimate privacy on all sides from anywhere.

You set your wine bottle and glass carefully by the lounge chairs spread out around the pool, wanting to wait for Michael to get back before you enjoy a refreshment in the pool.

You neatly fold your pool towel onto one lounge chair and take a cautious step down the stairs leading into the pool—shivering a bit at the feel of lukewarm water against your skin.

“Alright…” You wade further into the water, letting it soak over you to get used to the temperature.

You swim towards the middle of the pool, diving in and out of the water slowly before popping your head out and brushing aside your soaked hair.

When you open your eyes, you gasp to see Michael standing right before the pool side with both of his hands in the pockets of his trousers, gazing at you.

“When did you get back?” You blink, swimming towards him.

“Just now.” Michael begins to shrug off his suit jacket, “too much sun exposure hasn’t been good for our associate. He wants to meet both of us at dinner for the meeting.”

“I see.” You can’t help but smile shyly at Michael. “That’s even better for me.”

“I thought you might say that.” Michael walks back into the bedroom to put his suit jacket away but purposefully remains in your line of sight as he begins to strip down to his swimmers.

You rest your arms against the ledge of the pool, unable to get your eyes off of your husband as he unbuttons his dress shirt and loosens his leather belt.

The same insistent and urging arousal returns to you as your eyes greedily admire every inch of Michael from his chest hair down to his back muscles.

Michael wears a pair of plain, black swimming bottoms and rakes his hand through his hair a few times to gently break through the gel’s hold as he approaches the pool again.

“A sight I don’t get to see too often.” You begin to swim backwards, smiling up at him. “Come on, come join me.”

“Your intentions are elsewhere,” Michael steps into the pool without flinching or cringing against the slightly cooler water. “Aren’t they?”

“Maybe.” You swim over to your husband, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you. “This is just what I wanted.”

“Mm.” Michael leans over, kissing your lips. “This is the only part of our trip the twins would enjoy.”

“I know,” you let out a soft laugh. “Not that I blame them. When was the last time you swam with them in Lake Tahoe, let alone swam at all?”

“Never,” Michael answers plainly, pulling you into his embrace. “I have my reasons.”

“Such as?” You teasingly run your hand down Michael’s wet chest.

“It’s distracting.” Michael’s eyes move down to your bikini top. “And not something I wish to do in front of our employees.”

“Distracting is the word for it, alright.” You murmur, rubbing over Michael’s shoulders tenderly.

Michael moves over to kiss you again, but this time you dodge it and pull back, smirking at him. “Nuh uh.”

Michael raises his brows at you in disbelief. “Playing hard to get?”

“You owe me.” You gesture to him with your fingers. “And after leaving me a mess like that in the bathroom? I hardly call that fair.”

“I was getting even with you.” Michael swims closer to you. “You’re a smart girl, you know that.”

“I don’t like being teased.” You pout back playfully.

“Who says I was teasing you?” You remain face to face with Michael. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“What doesn’t—”

Michael pulls at the straps of your bikini top, throwing it off of you as your breasts spill free into the water. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, come on.” You giggle breathily, covering your breasts. “You’re not getting me out of the water anytime soon.”

“I don’t have to.” Michael forces your arms down, cupping his hands over your breasts as he begins to push you through the water. “I’ll take you in here, right now otherwise you’ll be a good girl and get back inside the bedroom.”

“Oh, you were waiting for this.” You giggle to yourself, swimming back up to the stairs. “I haven’t even had the chance to dry off yet. You want to ruin the bed?”

“You did it to yourself. That’s what it’s for. I could care less.” Michael follows, snatching your bikini bottoms off. “And you won’t be needing this either. Why you wore anything at all here surprises me. You have all the privacy you could want.”

“And you don’t?” You step out of the pool—droplets of water dripping down your ass.

“Don’t talk back to me.” Michael gives your ass a harsh smack, gesturing back inside the bedroom. “Spread yourself and wait for me.”

“You’ve got another surprise for me?” Blushing, you enter back into the suite with Michael.

Michael doesn’t answer you, instead moving towards the steam room in the suite and leaving you alone in the bedroom.

Impatient but just as needy, you do as Michael says and get on the bed—soaking through the duvet and spreading your legs open.

Just across from you, you can see your reflection against the mirror, all sprawled out, soaked from head to toe and waiting for Michael’s return.

Michael’s back only a moment later, holding a large bottle of massage oil in his hands. “Good girl. You did as you were told to.”

Your eyes land over the bottle in Michael’s hands and you feel as if your pussy has a heartbeat of it’s own, expecting to fuck away the afternoon completely wet and slicked with massage oil.

“Now,” Michael hovers over top of you, tilting your chin down to face him. “Be a good girl and spread it all over yourself.”

You gasp softly to feel the cool massage oil squirt all over you, coating your breasts, stomach, inner thighs and pussy generously.

Michael watches as the massage oil slicks down your body, seeing how your hands work around every crease of your thighs, over your hardened nipples and especially all over your pussy.

“Turn around.” Michael holds up the massage oil bottle. “And get on your knees.”

“Yes, sir.” You whisper to yourself, getting on all fours.

With a perfect view of your ass, Michael squirts the remainder of the massage oil down your lower back and all over your ass.

This time as Michael puts down the empty bottle, he works his hands over your ass—spanking you and squeezing your ass cheeks as he lathers the oil thoroughly all throughout.

“M—My God,” you press your face into a pillow, feeling Michael’s oiled fingers rub circles over your pussy’s entrance.

“When you cum,” Michael pulls his swimmers off completely, kneeling on the bed. “You’ll tell me, do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” you whine as Michael gives your soaked hair a tug.

“Make a mess worth cleaning up for.” He hisses in your ear, coating his cock in the massage oil as well.

You arch your back obediently, looking back over your shoulder as much as you can see as Michael begins to slowly push his cock inside of you and penetrate your pussy.

“O-ooohhhh…” You exhale shakily, feeling Michael’s thick, full cock pushing into you.

“Fuck,” you hear Michael mumble under his breath, gripping your hips. “You know how fucking tight you are?”

You giggle out of breath against the pillow, already beginning to feel your thighs tremble from the first thrust. “Michaellllll…”

Facing the mirror, you throw your head back with a half shriek, half moan as Michael begins to pound into your ass—already feeling you aroused and ready for him. “Oh, yes! YES!”

As Michael keeps a steady, quickened sloppy pace inside of you, he watches as a mixture of his precum, water and massage oil drip onto the bed from your pussy.

“Like that, huh? Is this what you wanted?” Michael moves his arm underneath you, squeezing your face and giving it a little shake.

“Y-yes!” You muffle out, pushing your hips back against Michael’s cock. “I w-want it, want it, want it!”

“You’re gonna take this cock in for as long as I want you to,” Michael watches how eagerly you gyrate your hips back to take him in you again and again. “Until you’re fucked into a mess.”

“D-do it,” you groan loudly, feeling Michael slamming his hips upright into you. “Fuck me, fuck me!”

“Did you touch yourself when I was gone? Hmm?” Michael demands an answer—his hair beginning to tousle over his forehead.

“N-no!” You moan shakily, moving your hands back to spread your ass open.

“We’ll see about that,” Michael slicks a finger over your clit—the massage oil dripping off of it providing the perfect stimulation to push you to the brink of orgasm.

Your moans only grow louder and more consistent as you’re simply unable to hold them back.

Your ass cheeks begin to glow pink from the friction of hitting Michael’s waist back and forth as fast as he can possibly fuck you.

“I want to ruin you,” beads of sweat begin to form over Michael’s head as he maintains his rapid thrusting rate, pounding into you as deep as he can go. “Like you begged me to last night.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop—” You squeeze your eyes shut, only able to hear the sloshing sounds of your wetness against Michael’s cock with skin slapping against skin above your moaning.

“You’re gonna cum on this cock or not at all,” Michael feels your pussy humming and contracting over his shaft as you come closer and closer to your orgasm.

You spread your legs as wide as you can in the doggy style position to take more of Michael in you.

His thrusting remains harsh and deep, almost enough to practically push you stomach down on the bed each and every time—the massage oil slicked and glistening over your body.

Learning all your sweet spots and weak points, memorizing each inch of pleasure radiating off your body and listening to your sweet cries of ecstasy as your hips quiver against Michael’s paints a picture of pure erotica in the hotel room.

Michael’s cock ravages your pussy like a man possessed over and over again, fucking you like a ragdoll as the mattress shakes out from under you both.

You roll your hips back at Michael desperately, begging for every thrust going in and out of you and putting him in a state of pure domination.

Michael fucks you mercilessly, bringing you to shrieking loud moans just the way you’ve craved it for days; the scent of sex filling the room.

‘Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.’ Bursting at a different height of arousal altogether, your toes curl in response as you begin to feel your orgasm unwind through.