#and there’s debate as to whether something has to have been made before a certain year to truly be oldschool but that’s a whole other thing

[juney-blues]

June Egbert is, and always has been incredibly fascinating to me because of just, how many factors have conspired to make Homestuck fans show their collective transmisogynistic asses.

The main character of Homestuck transitioning is a planned future plot point for the official continuation of homestuck, that was spoiled in advance by a fan making a joke about finding some toblerones Andrew Hussie the author of homestuck hid in a cave.

The current main writers of Homestuck: Beyond Canon have went on record in an AMA confirming that this was indeed always the plan, even before they took up the project.

In spite of these facts, the general consensus among certain homestuck fans seems to be that "June Egbert" is purely a headcanon for the original comic that was "made canon" by a "Toblerone Wish" (a concept that didn't even exist at the time)

For a variety of reasons, the "canonicity" of the postcanon official continuations of homestuck is a mattter of much debate, (though a debate that most homestuck fans seem to err on a side of "it's not canon at all in the slightest," something the writers have feelings on I'm sure.)

All of these factors combined leave the concept of "June Egbert" in a very nebulous place. It's assumed by most to just be an "ascended headcanon" that was shoehorned in, it's a spoiler so it hasn't happened yet in any official media, and the official media it will eventually happen in is regarded by some to be nothing more than glorified fanfic.

If someone is talking about June Egbert, and you don't like the concept of June Egbert, you have your pick of a million different excuses for why she's fake and gay and not worth discussing and bad writing and just the authors doing a gay dumbledore*, paying lip service to representation while actually doing nothing.

And of course, lots of people *don't* like June Egbert! Rather than being introduced as transfem from the start, she's in this nebulous position of discovery where people have to truly reckon with the idea of a "Pre-transition Trans Woman."

You can try to write off *some* of the backlash as transphobia, because obviously not everyone in this fandom is gonna be cool about trans people.

But there's no shortage of fans just dying to tell you about how much they like reading her as transmasc, or the idea of her being nonbinary or genderqueer or genderfluid, or literally anything besides a trans woman. And since they're fine with all those other interpretations, there's obviously no implicit biases driving their distaste for the concept! (if you want to try explaining the concept of "transmisogyny" to people like this you're braver than I.)

you can trust them when they say it's *just* a problem with whether or not it makes sense with the writing, or it just doesn't feel right somehow, or any of the thousands of excuses that this writing situation gives them to just Not Like It.

It's just, so interesting to me. There's not a lot of characters out there that get a trans arc in this way, that leaves room for open denialism and insistence that we have our trans cake and eat it too... Because Homestuck is a timeline spanning multiverse story, lots of people seem to want it to be an alternate timeline thing. Assuring us we can have this character share space with a non-transitioning version of herself and it won't be weird or imply gross things about trans people.

If you ask me it feels like a plotline that'd be really good for exploring some gender horror though, finding your true self and then being demoted to a footnote, an alternate version, because everyone around you likes your pre-transition self more....

Anyway I have no broader point beyond "hey look at this isn't this kinda weird. You don't get this kinda stuff often!"

*side note: it's a little ghoulish I think to compare "a future trans plot point that hasn't been given the chance to even happen yet, in an already famously queer piece of media, from a nonbinary author" to "some stupid shit done by the literal most famous transphobe of all time" but that's perhaps a discussion for later.

[strawberryteabunny]

While I think this is an interesting post, I do disagree that certain dresses could “never” be gothic; I think that whether a coordinate is gothic or not depends on the styling as much as on the dress itself. The wording on whether pink dresses (and presumably this applies to pastels as a whole) can be gothic or not is confusing too as it’s not about color or styling but rather how brands refer to themselves… but this contradicts the earlier statement that gothic isn’t about whether people call it gothic but about the exact cut, details, trim, print, etc. of the dress. (But maybe I’m just not reading this correctly!)

I definitely think there’s a difference between ‘black/dark colors’ and ‘gothic’ but I don’t think it’s the clear-cut ‘AP can never be gothic’ that OP implies either. To me personally it’s about the styling of the whole coord rather than just the dress on its own;

For example, here’s a couple stylings of Holy Lantern (by laceferatu, lunaeri_neko, and spiro_j). In my opinion the first two are more goth and the latter two are much more sweet (with spiro_j’s coord definitely being sweet). Makeup, hair, and accessories do a lot to change a coord from sweet to gothic to classic, such as black lipstick and a more ‘mature’ updo or a romantic layered overskirt v pigtails and bunny ears.

Generally I do agree with OP’s thoughts on prints; I think it’s much easier to tell apart sweet v gothic prints than solid colored dresses.

(though, for example, I’d say this is a gothic teddy bear print- the photorealism v a more ‘kawaii’ art style that brands like AP tend to use, plus the greyscale making it look like an antique photograph and the dolls make it ‘gothic’ to me rather than ‘sweet’).

Overall I think lolita substyles tend to blur a lot at the margins, and part of the fun of lolita is finding ways of styling things in different ways and not necessarily having to stick to rigid ‘if it’s AP or Baby it has to be sweet’ rules. It’s also what I enjoy about oldschool lolita, how much it crosses over with all three main substyles and is also its own substyle at the same time.

I think too there’s an element of perspective; to someone who does super sweet lolita maybe none of those coords come off as ‘sweet’ at all, and a black dress has to have a very sweet print to be sweet lolita. I think the more you wear and pay attention to a certain substyle the more you can pick out little details that define it, and the stricter you can be sometimes on what does or doesn’t fit (I’ve definitely seen people say that dresses without prints aren’t ‘truly’ sweet lolita but either classic or oldschool and I don’t agree with that either).

What makes Gothic Lolita ~Gothic~

This topic may be obvious to some people, but in my conversations with newer people I find that often I have to break down the difference of what is gothic lolita, and what is just a lolita dress in black. This can be tricky to explain as gothic lolita can be a lot of things, but there are certain looks and styles that are common within the style across brands that make the gothic part of lolita…

[writing-wh0re]

AAAAH, I just saw you posting your prompts and your requests are open. I don’t know if you write them together or individually, but if you can (or if you can’t but you can write for one of them), could you do Fred and George with a Smutty prompt #3?

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley

Word Count: 6,167 - I had so much fun writing this

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Slight Choking Kink, Slight Slapping Kink (if you squint), Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spanking Kink. Slight cum kink. Use of pet names.

Basically its a very kinky smut and there's actually plot - look at me go.

A/n: Sorry I have been inactive, life am I right? But I'm getting a desk setup completed so I will be more fequent! I hope. I apologise for this being long, but I truly had so much fun writing this request. My love for the twins is reigniting. I will be fixing up my taglist as well / making a library blog for posts. I have written this smut differently to how I have in the past, let me know if you'd like a part 2!

Merry Christmas x

| | | |

Hogwarts was quiet the closer it got to Christmas, snow was gently falling and the gusts of wind were freezing. Most students went home for Christmas but this year was different for you. Your parents had decided to take a trip to get away from the wizarding world for a few months with no real timeline of coming back, it was something that shocked you but also didn’t surprise you. 

Fred and George had decided to not rush home right away, debating on whether or not to ask you to join them at the Weasley house for Christmas, not really sure of what your relationship was, if it was anything other than lust and desire. 

“You can’t sit alone in the common room for weeks, it’s Christmas.” George grumbled slouching down on the couch beside you.

“I’ll be fine, honestly, I have so many books I can read.” You gestured to the pile of books on the table that you had acquired from the library. “You two should head home, I’m almost certain your mum has made your favourite foods.” 

Fred smiles at the mention of his mum and her tradition of making something for everyone to enjoy. 

“You can come with us, we have a spare room and I’m sure mum would be overjoyed to finally meet our best friend.” 

Best friend

Although not untrue the word still seemed to pang your heart with disappointment. An on and off hook up to them doesn’t mean the same thing it does to you and that was something you were coming to terms with. 

Fred and George sensed the hesitation on you after Fred had dropped the best friend title, it was something they were yet to discuss with you, were you just best friends who fooled around? Or were you also wanting something more that you could all figure out together over time. 

“I don’t want to impose, you’ll have such a full house, isn’t Bill in the guest room this year?” 

George smirks, you do listen to every word they say. 

“What Freddie is saying is there will be a spare bed somewhere, we have two in our room and the couch downstairs, I’m sure something can be sorted.” 

“Mum already thinks you’re coming so hurry up and pack your things.” 

Your mouth falls open at Fred’s revelation, your eyes flick to George who smirks. 

“Go on, we leave in fifteen minutes.”

“I feel like there wasn’t much of a choice in this matter.” 

The twins chuckle as you pack your things up and run up to your dorm, searching your room for a bag to pack things into you. 

You quickly rush out of your dorm, running into the twins as you look up at them. Their eyes wander your face, a blush creeping up your neck. 

You look down at the floor, before George places his hand under your chin.

“Everything okay baby?”

Baby. 

You weren't quite sure how a simple nickname could make your stomach flip and your body tingle, but it did, especially coming for George and Fred. 

“Uh, um.” Your mind is foggy, unsure what you were originally rushing for. The twins smirk, sharing a quick look before your face lights up, having remembered what you wanted to ask. 

“How long are we gone for?”

“We will be coming back the week before term starts.”

“But we can come back earlier if you’d like.” 

“So three weeks?”

The twins nod as you spin and walk back into your dorm, them following behind you. You walk back and forth from your closet to your bed, where the twins have decided to lounge while you pack. Finding outfits is easy, finding lingerie works out to be a little harder under the gaze of the men on your bed. 

You quickly open your dresser draw, looking over the various colours of lace and matching sets. Quickly you grab a hand full and shove it into your bag, closing your dresser and zipping the bag closed. 

“Darling, you dropped something.” George whispers, moving past you and bending down to pick up your dark red G-string, blush creeps up your face, your stomach filling with butterflies as George passes the material to Fred who simply places it in your bag and rezips it. 

Your mind continues to rush, a million thoughts racing through your brain as the twins share a smirk before grabbing your bag from the bed. 

“C’mon love.” Fred holds your bag as he walks out of your dorm, George follows closely behind his eyes looking you up and down, sending a swift wink your way before holding his hand out, an invitation to take his. Which you do, almost embarrassingly fast. 

George squeezes your hand and pulls you along with him to follow Fred. 

| | | | 

After a few days at the Weasley home, you started to feel settled and a part of the family. Harry had joined the household on the same day as you, making you feel not so alone in the imposing feeling. No one was surprised to see you, they were excited to have another friend along for the celebration. Molly had made you feel so at home, hugging you when you first arrived, a feeling of warmth and comfort washing over you within her embrace. 

Over the past few days, Molly had shown you how to bake a few of her signature recipes, she had even gone as far as asking what your favourite food was, setting herself a goal of creating it for you come Christmas Eve. 

Being one day out from Christmas, Molly didn’t want to be disturbed in the kitchen, she needed her space and stated that everyone should go outside to play a friendly game of Quidditch, she emphasised the word ‘friendly’ mainly at the twins. 

So you sat on your broom beside Harry, waiting for everyone who was playing to fly into the air. 

“Have you played before?” Harry asks curiously, not knowing much about you, himself being two years younger. 

“Yeah, but I'm definitely not a pro.” You laugh as Harry smiles, looking out at the Weasley family. 

“I think they’re going to kick our ass.” 

“Oh without a doubt.” 

You and Harry share a smile, your eyes wandering to the golden ball, clearly not the shiny golden snitch but definitely close. The quaffle and bludgers fly through the air with a woosh sound, everyone going into game mode. You and Harry nod at each other, both taking the role of seekers before rushing into the air in search of the ‘snitch’. 

Within a matter of seconds the twins are behind you, chasing after you. You fly past the duo, diving down behind Harry who seems to have his eye on the golden ball. You quickly look over your shoulder, the twins hot on your ass. You notice the golden ball dancing between the twins. A smirk dances across your lips as you fly up higher just outside of the quidditch pitch, pulling up on your broom as the twins fly past you. They stop and look back at you as you flash them your bare tits. Both of them go wide eyed as you hold the golden ball between your hands, pulling your sweater back down. 

“Later losers” 

You turn your broom around, wiggling your ass as you dive down to the grass. 

“We won!” You scream, Ginny, Bill and Ron rush down to you, pulling you into a hug and cheering for your team as the rest of the players come to the ground. 

You make brief eye contact with the twins, a darkness in their eyes but clapping for your victory nonetheless. 

“Lunch is ready! C’mon darlings before the storm comes.” Molly gestures for everyone to come inside as you opt to help clean the game up, the twins staying behind with you. 

You bend down to pick up the spare brooms, your ass brushing against George’s crotch, your eyes locking onto Fred and sending him a wink. 

Fred stands in front of you, shielding you from the view of the house, George holding your hips, pulling you against his chest. Fred caresses your cheek, his head shaking. 

“Do that one more time and we’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 

Your breathing hitches, your eyes never leaving Fred as he hooks one finger into the collar of your sweater, looking down at your bare tits. George slips one hand up into your sweater, groping your boob as you whimper, a shiver runs over your body at his cold finger tips. The fear of getting caught creeps up, a slight wetness running to your core. Fred tilts your head to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly. 

The twins smirk pulling away from you like nothing happened and begin grabbing the game equipment. 

They walk towards the home, not once turning back to look at you. Thunder rumbles through the sky as you quickly rush inside, not wanting to be left out in the oncoming storm. 

“There you are sweet girl, would you prefer peach or lemon tea?” Molly asks sweetly, smiling at you before worry washes over her. Molly places her hands on your cheeks and a slight frown on her face. 

“Y/n, honey you look flushed, are you okay?”

You heart hammers in your chest, those fucking twins. 

“I’m okay Molly, the wind just gets to me sometimes.” You smile, reassuring her as she pulls you into a warm embrace. You make eye contact with the twins, smug smirks on their face. 

“You tell me if you need anything, now, lemon or peach?” 

You nod at Molly, deciding on lemon tea before squeezing in between Fred and George at the table, conveniently the only spot left. You spin the pasta around the fork, thankful for a warm meal. Your body tenses slightly, feeling both Fred and George place a hand on your thighs. Both of them grab and squeeze the flesh, involuntarily rocking your hips at their touch. You quickly catch yourself, continuing to eat while the twins trace shapes and grip your skin. 

| | | | 

Not much continued to happen yesterday and today had mainly been taken up by Ginny and Molly asking for help with wrapping gifts, a cheeky idea coming into your mind as you pocketed a bit of red ribbon. 

Tonight was the big Christmas Eve feast, Mr Weasley had finished work early and everyone was told, multiple times, that dinner would be served at 7pm, not a minute over. Molly hadn’t made lunch today, wanting everyone to wait with anticipation for her multitude of amazing dishes, a favourite created for everyone in the home, including yourself and Harry. You had simply asked for baked honey carrots, which judging by the smell of honey filling the home, Molly had delivered. 

“Thank you girls, go get comfy while I finish up dinner.” Molly smiled, kissing Ginny’s head before ushering us away from the table so she could set it accordingly. 

“I’m going for a quick shower.” Ginny states rushing up the stairs in front of you. You duck into the twins room, looking over George’s messy bed and Fred’s mattress on the floor, thankful that you could share a room with them but lucky enough to score Fred’s bed. 

“Mum loves you.” I jump slightly at George's words not noticing him behind me. I smile, falling backwards on Fred’s bed. 

“I love her, she feels like home when she hugs you.” I whisper as George hums in agreement. 

Fred walks into the room, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist. I sit up slightly, resting on my elbows, my eyes shamelessly dragging over his toned body. 

“My eyes are here baby.” 

That fucking nickname.

“Oh I’m well aware.” I whisper, looking over at George quickly. “Remind me, do you look like that?” 

George smirks, pulling his shirt over his head, his body just as toned as Fred’s. 

I bite my lip, looking between the two shirtless twins. 

“Noted.” 

Fred locks the door behind him, resting against it. George stands from his bed, nodding at his brother before pulling me closer to the edge by my ankles.

“We’re sick of this game love.” 

“We know you want us.”

“Fuck, we want you.”

“That shit you pulled during the game.”

“Dangerous.”

“Slutty.”

“Showing off what’s ours to the whole family.” 

My breath hitches at their words, looking up at both of them towering over me on the bed. 

“I’m yours?”

The twins smirk, George leans down, his thumb brushing against my lip. 

“Should we remind you?”

“It’s been a long time, baby.”

“We forget what you feel like.”

“Sound like.” 

They emphasise their words by groping at your body. Your body tingles, wetness pooling between your thighs. 

Fred feels your pocket, pulling out the red ribbon with a smile. George smirks, tilting his head at me. 

“Are you our Christmas gift?” 

You open and close your mouth, simply nodding as they chuckle. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.”

“Yes.” You whisper, watching their every move. 

George smiles, leaning down and pulling you up from the bed, your chest against his, your back against Fred’s. 

“How lucky are we Freddie.” 

“Extremely.” Fred whispers, his hands gripping your ass. 

George leans down to your lips, his lips hovering over mine, your breath mixing as my eyes flick from his to his lips. 

“Please.” You whimper. 

George closes the distance between you, your lips moulding against each other. Fred kisses along your neck and shoulder, sucking on your weak spot as you moan into George’s mouth, allowing for his tongue to twirl with yours. 

“Be quiet baby.” George whispers as Fred captures your lips, his kiss just as soft as George, savouring every swipe of your tongue against each other. George’s hands slip under your sweater, a groan falling from his lips at your lack of bra, twisting your nipples. 

“Fuck daddy.” You whisper, both of the twins stopping briefly, as George grabs your hair pulling your face to him. 

“Say that again.”

“Daddy.” You whimper, your lips pouting, Fred moans, his hands spanking your ass.

“We’re going to ruin you.” 

Before anything more can happen you hear Molly shout up the stairs, letting you know dinner is served. 

“Fuck.” The three of you say in unison, the boys pull away from your body. Fred rushes around the room for clothing as George puts his sweater back on. 

George smirks at you, tapping your ass and nodding towards your hair. 

“Might want to fix that baby.”

“Don’t want everyone to know you’re our little slut.” Fred winks, both of them slipping out of the room, their footsteps bouncing down the stairs. 

Your fingers brush against your lips, a slight tingle against the flesh from their kisses. A smirk forming on your face, thankful for the last few minutes, a step in the direction you crave. 

After you fix your hair,you quickly bounce down the stairs, thankful you're not the last one as Harry and Ron rush in behind you.  

“Sit, sit dear.” Molly gestures to the space across from the twins, next to Ginny and Harry. You quickly sit as Molly places the last dish on the table. The house smells amazing, a mix of spices and hints of firewood from the stove. 

“Merry Christmas, I love all of you.” Molly smiles, kissing Arthur. “Including you two.” Molly gestures to Harry and yourself as you knock his shoulder, smiling at him. “Please, eat.” 

No one waits for Molly to say it twice, everyone serving themselves. George serves you a pile of honey carrots and Fred places a few roasted potatoes on your plate before continuing to serve themselves. A soft smile falls on your lips, the simple domestic gesture filling your heart, maybe this could work. 

Everyone is quiet while enjoying Molly’s food, the sound of knives and forks clicking together. You catch Molly’s eye as she enjoys watching her family sharing dinner together, only having this occur a few times within the year. Molly catches your eye and winks at you, scrunching her nose and smiling at you before taking a sip out of her wine glass. You smile back at Molly, a warmth washing over you at the small interaction. Your eyes flick to the twins in front of you, both of them almost finished with their meal. A cheeky thought pops into your mind as you shuffle on your seat slightly, dragging your foot up George’s leg. His eyes lock onto yours, he nudges Fred inconspicuously to get his attention before sitting back in his chair, his legs spreading wider as his older brother looks down at the chair quickly. You press your foot into George’s crotch softly noticing his body tense as Fred shakes his head, grabbing his cup and tipping the liquid into his mouth. You drop your foot from George and move it to Fred, not wanting him to feel left out. Fred grabs his napkin, wiping his mouth as he looks over at George and nods. A wordless conversation shared between the two as George smirks. 

“So Y/n and Harry, what subjects are you looking forward to most next year?” Molly asks, butterflies flip in your stomach, feeling like Molly caught you. You quickly drop your foot from Fred causing him to chuckle slightly, George takes a sip from his glass hiding his smirk at your reaction. 

“Defence against the dark arts, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.” Harry states, causing a small chuckle to fill the air. 

“And Y/n?” Molly smiles. 

“Potions, I’m excited to create a few remedies for different conditions but also to help these two-” You quickly gesture to Fred and George who go wide eyed, you know Molly and Arthur don’t know about their ‘jokes’ yet but why not keep them on their toes. “With passing the subject. You know they don’t stir their cauldrons, they just expect it to work when you throw things into it.” 

Molly and Arthur chuckle, a smug smirk on your face at the panic you just gave the twins. 

“Oh that explains why their grades for positions are so high, we have you to thank.” Arthur chuckles as you nod, smiling at him. Little does he know, you have them to thank for your grades. 

You pick up your glass, taking a sip of the cinnamon eggnog, freshly made as Molly questions her kids about what they’re most looking forward to. You only half listen, your mind occupied by the pair of redheads in front of you, your mind filled with ideas on what you want to do to them and them to you. Thankfully for such a great break. 

| | | | 

The night flew by, Molly handed out one gift to her kids, including yourself and Harry. Molly stated it was something to wear for Christmas day breakfast and to not fuss over opening one present early. She asked everyone to open them at the sametime, to which you did and found yourself with a handmade sweater with your first initial on the front, everyone had one. You held the fabric close to yourself, knowing you would hold onto this for the rest of your life. 

Fred and George hadn’t spoken to you since dinner, opting to hangout with their brothers and Harry while you and Ginny gossiped on the couch. Ginny was confiding in you about her crush on Harry and how Dean had been sending her letters since he left for break. You hadn’t noticed when the room dwindled down to just yourself, Ginny and Harry. Upon noticing and remembering what Ginny had said, you excused yourself, leaving the two of them alone which caused Ginny’s cheeks to heat with a rosy blush. 

You quickly went up the staircase, noticing how much quieter the house was the further you climbed. You slip into the twins room, hearing soft snores, noticing Fred’s asleep on the spare mattress on the floor. You look to George’s bed and see it's empty. You can hear the faint running of water, a small idea popping into your head. You walk over to the bathroom, your hand resting on the handle, hoping to god it’s George. You contemplate this gamble for a few seconds, bouncing on your heels slightly before the devil on your shoulder simply says ‘fuck it’ and you turn the handle to the bathroom. 

“Hey, knock-” George pulls the shower curtain across, cutting himself off when he sees you leaning against the now closed bathroom door. A smirk forms on his face as pulls the shower curtain open a little for you, simply waiting. The steam flows outside of the curtain, the mirror foggy and walls wet. You quickly slip out of your clothes, untying your hair and letting it fall. A shiver runs over your body in the damp air and you hurry into the shower, wanting the warm water to cascade over your body. 

George has his head tipped under the shower, leaving his body open to your eyes. You drink in his figure, his toned chest and arms, his semi hard cock and strong legs. The water streams down his skin, small sprinkles covering your body. Wetness slips past your folds, your heart beat picking up, this almost feels wrong without his counterpart. But you know they will talk and you know Fred will be jealous. 

George faces you, dragging his hand down his face to wipe away the water, his eyes linger on your body, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 

“What’s Freddie going to say?” 

The mention of his name has butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“Why don’t you tell him and find out.” 

George smirks at your response, stepping closer to you and pushing you against the side shower wall, the cold tiles resting against your skin as a hiss leaves your lips.

“You’re a cock hungry whore, aren’t you baby?”

Your lips part at his words, simply nodding and leaning up to capture his lips. George pulls away from you tutting as he holds your chin between his fingers. 

“You answer daddy when he asks a question.” 

“Only for you daddy.” 

George chuckles, tilting your face up to his. Small droplets of water fall from his hair and onto your skin. 

“Liar.” He whispers, licking along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth and pulling the flesh. “You’re a slut for Freddie, and fuck it makes me hard, but tonight you’re mine.” 

You nod your head, a whispered ‘Yes Daddy’ slipping from your lips, your eyes staring into his. His lips lock with yours, his wet hand moving from your chin and tangling in your hair, pulling on the strands. A moan falls into your kiss, your tongues swirling against each other, his free hand holding your hip, pulling your dry body against his. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet baby.” George whispers, his lips kissing down your neck, tongue tracing a line to your boobs. You softly whimper as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the hardened bud. He pulls from your breast with a pop, alternating to the other side, your fingers tracing through his hair, pulling when he bites your nipple. The warm shower water sprinkling your body, the steam filling your lungs as your gasp.

“You’re so beautiful and these tits.” George whispers, grabbing your boobs in his large hands and jiggling the flesh. He sucks on the skin of your cleavage, leaving a red and purple hickey on each one, definitely something to rile up Fred. 

George presses against you, your boobs slip against his wet chest. His lips brush against your ear as you feel his hard cock against you skin. 

“This is all for you.” 

Your moan in response, causing George to place a hand over your mouth. Tutting at you as he shakes his head. He drags his fingertips up and down your thighs, softly tapping against your folds before slipping one finger past. He sucks in a breath at your wetness, pressing his fingers against your clit and looking into your eyes. 

“You’re so good for me, so wet and warm.” 

You nod against his hand that’s still pressed against your lips. His finger starts to swirl around your clit in small circles. Your eyes roll back, a moan vibrating against his hand. 

“I’ve missed this pussy baby.” 

He picks up the pace of his finger on your clit, your legs tense at the feeling of pleasure flowing through you at his actions. George pulls his finger from your clit, placing the digit against his tongue and rubbing it side to side, before his lips encase it. 

“So sweet.” 

If he wasn’t covering your mouth, it would be open in shock. 

“Please.” You beg, whispering against his hand, it is barely audible, he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t feel your lips move against his skin. 

“Are you begging for me to fuck you against the wall baby?”

His words cause more wetness to flow between your legs. He moves his hand from your lips allowing for you to answer. 

“Please daddy, I’ve missed your cock.” 

George smirks, placing his hand under your right knee and lifting your leg up, his other hand resting under your left arm. 

“I bet you’d say the same fucking thing to Freddie.” 

It’s your time to smirk at his words, nodding softly before you reach down and wrap your hand around his hard cock, tip red and beading with precum. 

“I would, because I’m a whore for you and a slut for him.” You whisper, slowly pumping your hand up and down his dick. George bites his lip, looking down at your hand. You place his cock against your folds, the tip brushes your wet clit causing him to hiss at the contact. You guide him lower to your entrance, angling your hips to allow for him to slide into your velvet walls. 

Both of you sigh in unison at the contact. George keeps his hips still, his lips capturing yours, savouring in the feeling of your walls around his cock. You rock your hips up slightly, a silent beg for movement as he smiles against your lips, pulling his cock from your pussy before plunging deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he finds his rhythm, his cock slips in and out of you, your wetness growing the deeper he thrusts inside of you. His lips are resting against your ear, his low whispered moans and groans echoing in your head. 

“So tight and wet for me.”

“Such a good girl for daddy.” 

Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy has your pussy tightening around him, his praise sending tingles through your body. 

The water of the shower continues to run, it ever so slightly sprinkling you both with droplets. The steam continues to fill the room, the water pressure dropping from being on for so long. 

“Touch your clit for me baby, I’m close and want you to cum first.” 

You slip your hand between your bodies, a moan falling from your lips as you circle your clit, the wetness causing it to slip against your finger. You add another, two now circling your clit and fast to help you reach your high. 

“Look at you, such a whore.” 

You whimper at his words, your pussy tightening causing George to hiss, tilting his head back, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he continues to rock in and out of you. 

“D-don’t stop.” 

Your legs tense, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and George’s lips fall to your neck, kissing the skin and whispering for you to cum. 

“Cover my cock baby.”

Your heart beat picks up, your breath hitching and your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your legs tingle and untense; George’s cock continues to slide in and out of you, his pace picking up as he moans in your ear. His mouth falls to your shoulder and bits skin to muffle his moan as his cum spurts, warmth pooling inside of you. 

George pulls away from you, watching his cock pull in and out, covered in a mix of cum. He gently places your leg down, slipping out of your pussy with a hiss. 

“C’mere.” George whispers, pulling you to his chest and kissing your hair. He spins you around, softly placing the warm running water against your cold back, his fingers tracing in your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead, his hands now holding your hips. 

“Let’s get you ready for bed.” 

| | | | 

You wake up in the morning, a dull ache in your legs from last night. The memory of last night floods your mind, you lift your shirt looking at your boobs beautifully covered in hickeys. 

“I hear you had fun last night.” 

You look over at Fred leaning against the doorway. Your face fills with blush, your eyes quickly flicking to George’s bed as you hear Fred chuckle. 

“George is out with everyone else, mum insisted they hand deliver Christmas cards to the neighbours.” Fred states, closing the door and moving closer to the bed. “And I insisted on letting you rest because you were up late last night and had to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.” 

“Freddie.”

“Nuh-uh, what’s my name baby girl.” 

Your stomach fills with butterflies, watching the eldest twin sit on the bed beside you, his fingers caressing your face. 

“Daddy.”

Fred nods, his hand tilting your chin up, before settling around your throat. Bending down to your lips and whispering against them. 

“That’s better, I bet you called George daddy and I bet you fucking loved it.” 

“I did.” 

You want Fred to be rough, you want him to compete against his brother, you want to be filled with his cum. 

“I hear you’re a slut for me, is that correct?” 

His hand tightens around your throat before releasing softly, dragging his hand down your body and resting it on your boob. 

“Yes daddy, whatever you want me to be.” 

Fred smirks, chuckling at your response. 

“So submissive for me, you wanted to make me jealous didn't you baby?”

He grips your breast, pinching your nipple and dragging his hand down your body, cupping your pussy through your thin pyjama pants.

“You want me to fuck you better than George.”

“Please.” You whimper, your hips rocking up against his hand. 

Fred slaps your pussy through your pants as your hips stop. 

“He was right, you’re a slut for me.” 

You simply nod in response. Fred leans down, his lips ghosting yours. 

“Get on your knees and show me what you want.” 

Within a second he’s pulled away for you, leaning back on the bed and resting against his elbows. You scramble off the bed, falling to your knees in front of him, the wooden floor hard and cold. 

You loop your fingers into Fred’s pants, tugging them down his body along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting against his lower stomach. Your mind floods with comparison to George, the thickness and length comparable, a vein running from the base to the tip. You run your tongue along the vein, flattening your tongue against the head of his cock before slipping it past your lips. 

“Fuck.” Fred moans, falling back on the bed, his hands dragging down his face. 

You wrap your hand around the base of his dick, meeting your lips half way, your tongue flicking side to side around his cock. Fred’s fingers lace in your hair, assisting you with bobbing your head up and down, his hips thrusting into your throat. Your eyes water, a few gags filling the air and drool leaking from your mouth. 

“Such a messy baby.” 

Your eyes roll back, moaning around his cock. 

“You didn’t- fuck- suck George’s dick, did you baby.” You shake your head, popping his cock from your lips. 

“Just for you daddy.”

“Mm, just what I wanted to hear.” Fred grabs your face between his hands, kissing your lips sloppily, his tongue rubbing against yours. Your lips are puffy and glistening with spit, his teeth pull at your bottom lip pulling away from you. 

“On the bed baby, ass up for daddy.”

Within an instant you’re standing in front of him, stripping your clothes. Fred stops you before you can lay across the bed, noticing the hickies covering your boobs. 

“Cocky fucker.” Fred groans, spanking your ass in encouragement to get on the bed. 

You lay with your ass in the air, feeling Fred kiss down your back. He reaches your ass, spanking the plump skin, soothing it with a soft kiss to your cheek. His teeth graze the skin, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your ass. You squeak as he spanks you, his cock dragging up and down your slit, bumping against your clit, your moans filling the air. 

“No one’s home baby, be loud for me.” 

Fred slides deep inside of you, the angle allows for him to brush against your g-spot a moan pulling from your throat. 

“Fuck, I should just stay inside of you, that would drive you crazy, wouldn’t it baby?” 

“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” 

“Mm, what would George say?”

“Fuck, please, fuck me.” 

You push your hips back against his cock, a low groan falling from his lips. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock baby.” Fred encourages, your hips rock back and forth on his cock, wiggling them against him. You pull forward just far enough to leave the tip inside of you before pushing back allowing for him to slip deep inside of you. This causes Fred to grip your hips, starting his own rhythm and thrusting in and out of you. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it baby?”

You nod against the comforter, your hands gripping the material. 

Fred spanks your ass, his fingers looping your hair around his palm and pulling you up. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes daddy, wanted you to fuck me.” 

“Wanted me to fuck you better than George.” 

You moan at his words, his pace picking up. Both of your moans and heavy breathing fill the air, his grip still tight on your hair. Fred uses his grip to pull you up against his chest, his arm wrapping across your boobs as he bounces you on his cock. 

His lips fall to your ear, using his free hand to rub your clit. 

“Fuck, Freddie.”

Fred chuckles against your ear, his warm breath fanning your neck.

“Scream my name louder baby, I want George to hear.” He pinches your clit, your body jumping in response before he rubs fast circles around the bundle of nerves. You rest your head against his shoulder, lips parted with moans pouring from them. Your pussy tightens around his cock as his dick twitches. 

“You can cum for me baby, I’ve got you.” 

Fred’s grip on your body tightens, his hips rocking into you faster. 

“Daddy, so good.”

He kisses the side of your head, his pace picking up on your clit. He feels you clamp around his cock and your body tense. Your toes curl and your body shivers, cumming around Fred.

“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Fred whispers, the sound of your wetness filling the air as he continues to pound into you. He pushes your torso back onto the bed, holding your ass in his hands and chasing his high. Fred curses and you feel his load shoot inside of you, a few more thrusts and Fred gingerly pulls out of you. 

“Look at you baby.” He whispers, softly caressing your skin. 

You gently roll over onto your back, attempting to catch your breath as Fred rushes around for clothing before disappearing. You hear the front door to the Weasley’s home open close and a chatter fill the air. You heart rate picks up slightly, your body aching and mind blissed out to cover yourself. 

Fred reappears in the bedroom with a warm towel between his hands. Within a moment later George is sliding through the door. His eyes darkening when they land on you, legs spread and pussy dripping with his brother's cum. The twins share a look as Fred throws the towel to George who stalks over to you. 

“Such a pretty baby, our little cum slut.” George whispers, his eyes fixated on your pussy. A gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of George slipping his fingers inside of you. George pulls his fingers from you, a mix of cum sticking to his flesh. You grab George’s wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth, dragging your tongue up his fingers, sucking the mix of cum, your moan vibrating around his fingers. Your eyes lock with the younger twin, a smile present on both of their faces. 

“We’re so lucky Freddie.”

| | | |

Let me know if you'd like a part 2 with both of them.

[postmoe]

Borisin Warhead Hoolay x Reader - All You’re Good For

: cum, piss, degradation, blood (lil bit), aphrodisiac, Hoolay is a gross meanie :( , but he’s also a powerful tyrant so :)

This was all written on my phone during sleepless nights haha I can’t fix the spacing ;-;

It’s hard being a foxian in this world run by borisins. Allies are far and few between, even amongst your own kind. All it takes is one threat, one little push and you’re being sold out or used in the worst ways.

It had been days and you’re exhausted, paranoid and running on nothing but a few berries you have yet to see if are poisonous. It’s been a few days and nothing, so you’ll try some more tonight… if you make it out alive.

You were part of a group of foxians that plotted to run from the farm you were held in, what’s started as 11 now dwindled to five as most of you were either captured and killed in the escape or gotten too sick and died along the way. It had been a plan in the making that would have been perfect, had it not been for one factor:

Hoolay was coming.

Everyone knows the visit of the borisin warhead always lead to large feasts, having most of the ‘stock’ dead by morning. It was either make a break for it then or succumb to certain death.

So, you fled. Which leads to now, having you shaking beside the campfire, fingers anxiously brushing through matted knots in your tail, and the four men now looking to you like you were a burden.

“All I’m saying is that there’s no use having dead weight when borisins could jump on our tail at any second. We all play a part in this pack, but, what do you do?” One stated as though it was a matter of fact, hand held out in expression.

It was true you hadn’t really contributed much, though one could argue you found the berries, you were the only one brave enough to try them. You did plan on sharing if they were safe; that’s out the window now. Your lips thin as you refuse to make eye contact. Trauma has rendered your vocabulary useless, you don’t remember how old you were when you last spoke. Now, only pitiful sounds are able to escape your mouth, little hums and grunts of pain.

They took this as another sign of weakness, one of the other foxians scoffing, “You won’t even make conversation with us? We want someone we can rely on, not a pet.”

Everyone seemed to have different opinions of your value, all of which lead to one conclusion: you’re useless. It wasn’t until the fourth of them spoke that anyone even considered otherwise, “C’mon, guys, don’t be so harsh, you know she’s a mute. She can���t help it if she’s… underwhelming. Females are only made for one thing after all. Surely I can’t be the only one feeling lonely.”

It was that comment that made your heart pound most of all. A debate broke out of whether or not you’d be worth keeping around for something as trivial as sex when their lives were in danger. You look to starry sky above, the smoke pluming through the canopy as you think about their accusations. You were the most quiet of the bunch. You watched one of your comrades get their head stomped in right before you and didn’t even scream. One of the men here almost got everyone caught because a centipede crawled past. All in all, it could only be boiled down to blatant sexism. Their entire lives they’ve been slaves, and now there’s a taste of freedom and they want to turn the tables.

You’re being regarded again, everyone awaiting your answer, “So, wanna spread them legs and we’ll keep you safe? Cmon baby, you can trust us to protect you.”

It was a no brainer on your part, though you’ve never been one for conflict, you were prepared to fight them on this. Exhausted, paranoid, starving. You a pop a few berries from your pocket and into your mouth, thinking this might be your last meal if things go south as you shake your head in a silent, ‘no’.

The main perpetrator loses his smirk, obviously not amused by your response. He stands and cracks his neck, “No? I think you just need a bit of encouragement, baby.”

Immediately, you stand to take the defensive against him. You wonder if you could outrun them, given that you’re all in the same state of distress. One of the first foxians stands too, holding his hand out in hesitance, “W-whoa, hold up. Don’t start a fight here. Besides, you can’t just force someone to have sex with you.”

Another stood up, following the others straps as he comes to crowd you, “No no, I actually agree here. I think she needs to show us some gratitude.”

The last one merely sat in silence, avoiding his eyes from the scene, looking visibly uncomfortable but not wanting to step in.

Your eyes darted between the two approaching and you threatened by taking a deep breath, mouth opening as if you to scream. Their eyes panicked, not wanting any sound to alert unwanted attention. Regardless of their beliefs on your voice, they didn’t want to risk it.

A slight freeze from them was all you needed, you turned tail, beginning to run when a critical mistake caused your foot to get caught on the log you were sitting on. You went tumbling down, only barely managing to turn on the ground when you were tackled by your former comrade. His hand already over your mouth as he laugh, straddling you, “See? Pathetic! You can’t even run away by yourself. You need us.”

Your hands tense as your nails sharpen, ready to thrash when the other grabs your right wrist, pinning you down. Not long after, the first one grabs your other, his instinct telling him this was better than having you fight back and alert their position.

It wasn’t until his hand trailed under your shirt and caressed the bare skin of your stomach that something truly snapped inside of you. Pupils dilating, mind quieting and teeth sharpening, you managed to tilt your head enough to bite painfully into his hand, blood quickly spilling from the punctures.

His scream was loud, startling, the one on your right wrist jolting enough for you to wrench your arm away. Just as you were about to scratch at him, he gave you a swift punch to your face, nose cracking and pooling blood over your mouth. It disorientated you enough for him to grab at your throat, holding you down, “Fucking bitch. Maybe it’ll be easier to use you if you’re not breathing.”

His taste for violence was the perfect opportunity. As his face drew closer and no one retrained you, thinking you were knocked out enough to not need it, you thrust your hands to his head, nails digging into the back of his skull as you pushed him forward and impaling his eye over your thumb.

The others stepped back now, stunned and scared, leaving you to leap forward before he could recover and drive your teeth into his throat like a wild animal. Frenzied, scared, hurt and adrenaline coursing through your veins, it was enough to drive anyone to do drastic things.

You didn’t notice the rustling of bushes, the way your comrades bolted from the scene. Too busy focusing on ripping his throat out and showing him that you’re not just some foxian that’s going to roll over and heel. Tears streaming down your cheeks as the taste of blood came rushing over you, you are going to fight, too.

Once he goes limp is when you stop clawing and attacking, sitting back with a squelch as you reach up to wipe the water from your eyes. You were drenched. Blood painted from the lower half of your face, down your throat and over your teeth. Nose bruised and broken and leaking. Nails filthy and you’re sure there is flesh under them. You’re not a killer. You never wanted to be a killer.

And then the clapping began. Thuds of heavy footsteps rush past you as you look up, paling and almost vomiting from the surprise. There’s no mistaken that the borisin that stands before you now is Warhead Hoolay, and beside him is his right hand man, Mok Tok. The pack with him was chasing down the others that ran before.

Hoolay seemed very amused, crouching down and grinning as he picked up the foxian’s head by the ear before letting it hit the ground again, “Only the strong survive. This whelp was nothing more than all bark and no bite. You, however,” he gazes back to you, standing, “I’m impressed. Even foxians in the fighting ring have more compassion. You truly didn’t hold back.”

Running isn’t an option. In the fight he had gotten a few good hits and kicks in, your ankle throbbing in pain. Not to mention the stench of blood on you. Foxians had a great sense of smell - Borisins, an even better one. Your only option is to fight, and even you know the single outcome here is death.

Mok Tok stepped around, standing behind you as he examined your state of well being. He hummed gingerly before saying, “Dine in or take away, master?”

Another once over from Hoolay had him walking over to you. He didn’t have a care in the world, hand larger than your head reaching out towards your face. It was enough for you to kick into gear, using what was left of your strength and latching onto him with all the fight you had left. Your teeth barely dug through the fur on his paw, nails only strong enough to hold you to his arm without so much as pricking blood, your legs feebly kicking into his large chest. It probably felt more like a massage than any form of pain.

You tried with all your might and the only response you got from him was a boisterous laugh. He easily yanked you off and threw you to the ground, rolling until you hit Mok Tok’s foot, “Take away. This one amuses me, see to it she doesn’t succumb to her wounds.”

In no time you had some form of metal around your neck, clasping with the rattle of a chain. You’re dragged a few feet before being hauled onto your aching souls. Mok Tok handles you with little care, tugging you to a pace you couldn’t keep up with.

…

It was only you, the bystander foxian that didn’t stand to help, and the initial foxian that tried to keep everyone quiet that remained. The lackey of the culprit you fought had been tied at the end of your chain link, only to fall to his wounds and die on the road. The borisins had snapped his portion of the chain off like it was nothing, leaving his carcass to rot in the mud.

You were at the front of the line, trudging behind Hoolay and his bitch boy with your hands cuffed in front of you, connected to a chain on the thick collar around your throat. A longer, thicker chain trailed behind you to the others, walking in a single file.

It was quiet, the night turning from black to the blueish hues of morning. In the distance thunder rumbled, promising the relief of rain to come. Your feet were filthy from the mud, having lost one flat, uncomfortable shoe days ago and tossing the other at a wild animal that tried to bite you. It turns out bare feet was only marginally more uncomfortable. At least the dirt of the road and squelch of the mud was nicer than sticks and brambles in the forest.

Every closing of your eyes almost had you tripping in sleep. You tried not to blink but since the adrenaline was wearing off, all the pain and exhaustion was coming forward tenfold. It was probably stupid, but the man behind you decided to try their luck with a conversation, “Are we-“ they coughed, their voice a lot scratchier than you anticipated, starting again when they noticed their ears pricking back to listen, “Are we going back to the farm?”

Mok Tok was the first to sneer, his scarred face glaring at him as he snapped, “You weren’t given permission to speak, whelp.”

Hoolay raised his paw to silence him, “It’s fine. Let them wonder, the smell of fear is a welcome sense.” Once the smaller borisin bowed in submission, Hoolay glanced at you from over his shoulder, his intimidating size only making you feel all the more caged in this otherwise open countryside, “The farm owner doesn’t want runaways such as yourselves. You’re coming to our den. Those who can’t serve as servants will be meals before battle.”

One of the men behind you whimpered in fear, the chain slightly rattling as they quaked. You wish you could have the energy for such an emotion. You felt yourself lagging, needing to pick up the pace if you didn’t want to end up lunch for the trip back. With a pained sigh, you skipped forward and listened as they continued questioning, “Did you search for us on purpose, or was it all a coincidence?”

It seems Hoolay was in a generous and talkative mood as he humoured, “Your previous owner informed us of the escape. Such a foolish plan, don’t you know we wolves love to hunt little foxes like you? You couldn’t have picked a worse time to…”

As Hoolay spoke you were progressively losing focus. The sunlight peeked behind a cloud and pierced your eye, a strain feeling like it was hitting your brain. Your hands weren’t low enough to see if you had any surviving berries in your pocket, food maybe being a cure. By this point it was difficult to make out the words anyone was saying.

The next moment you know is your face in the mud. It’s cool to your cheeks, comforting from the recent events. Mok Tok’s voice cuts through incredulously, “Me? Master, she is just a pitiful fox. I suggest we eat her and be done-“

“Are you questioning my decision, Mok Tok? I’ll gladly fight you over it, think you can take me in a battle,” Hoolay says, already knowing the outcome.

Mok Tok surrenders immediately, breaking off your chain and throwing you over his shoulder. Your lungs are pushed of air, and though he isn’t careful in the least, you despise how warm and inviting his fur is. It isn’t long before you’re drifting off, passing out in the hopes that this is your end and you don’t have to experience another day in this hellhole.

…

It was a long ride, your trio of prisoners thrown on the back of a wagon full of leftover foxian meat when it was established you were walking too slow. Most of it was wrapped in cloth and sat on crates with misshapen ice inside to keep relatively fresh. It only became hard to stomach when one of them got hungry.

A few borisin were striding alongside the cart, keeping in pace with the quieter man of your group. They were shoving an amputated foot in his face, laughing and urging him to try it. “You’ll never know if you don’t have a taste~”

You did your best to keep your gaze away, he may be an arsehole but you still regarded the corpse’s leg with the dignity you feel it deserves. Though your kind believes the spirit moves on, it was still hard to witness in the living realm.

It seems your ignorance of the scene didn’t grant you any relief. However, instead of the group of mutts hounding him, you were graced with the mighty presence of the Warhead himself. He held out an arm to you, fingers daintily hovering before your face, calloused skin proving their hard work in life. Hoolay eyed you with interest as he said, “What about you, small one? Have you developed a taste for your own kind?”

The stains of mud and blood still remain on you, your nose only having a brief look at once you reached the wagon of ‘goods’. If your aggressive fight had taught you anything, it was that living prey wasn’t your ideal meal. You shook your head and turned away from him, hoping he would give up this pointless endeavour.

Hoolay brought the arm to his maw, ripping the flesh and chewing loudly, as if to accentuate just what exactly he was eating. Without warning, his sharp claw drags roughly from the base of your skull and down your neck, stopping between your shoulder blades when you jumped forward in shock, the chains rattling as you eyed him with malice. Whatever he saw in you made his lips part in a smirk, then he laughed loudly, the rest of his pack watching their leader toy with you in silence. “What do they call you?”

Even if you could talk, you wouldn’t want to tell him your name.

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Oh? Even still defiant over such a simple question?”

Mok Tok was clearly more offended than his leader, “How dare you ignore our Warhead Hoolay! Master, please allow me to show this whelp just how grateful she should be-“

Sensing the growing tension, your other prisoner comrade interrupted fearfully, “Sh-she doesn’t talk, lord warhead. She’s been silent for as long as we’ve known her.”

This seemed to interest Hoolay even more. “Oh?” With ease, he jumped onto the wagon and sat opposite of you, right next to the prisoner who had spoken on your behalf. Teasingly, he caressed his face with the back of the foxian’s hand, “Then you can tell me. What is her label?”

Shakily, he looked to you as if you could help, too scared to move away from the amputated hand. You merely shrugged, then sure what to tell him, so he said what he could best remember, “I think… I think she was part of B block so… it may have been B132.”

You’re not sure with how you got away with not being branded. Perhaps it was because you kept your head down and didn’t cause trouble, mixed with the fact that they forgot. The farm wasn’t the best run, order and structure not something they’d place in their résumé.

Hoolay looked back to you, “Is that correct?”

Again, you shrug. You were told it once and then never again. The only ones who really remembered were the branded ones.

Hoolay picks at his fangs with the nails of his meal, humming in thought before tossing the arm far away into a field, “I suppose it matters not. Servants will be renamed, as will food.” Another amused rumble comes bubbling from his chest as he stands, a large paw grasping your injured face and turning it from side to side, making you wince as he growls lowly, “Food always tastes better when there’s… personality.”

You took that as an omen for your future.

…

The rain and humidity was a horrible combination, though you found yourself enjoying it more as the grime was sort of washed from your face and your wrists were lubricated from the blood that was washed down. Quietly, you had been working on wriggling your hands out of the cuffs to give you some more space to work with when you try to escape again.

There was nothing you could do about the choker around your neck, however if you could at least get your hands free then you’d have the ability to use the environment around you easier. That, paired with the fact that your chain was no longer connected to the others thanks to Mok Tok, you think you had a fighting chance.

Or else you’re condemned to be food.

It stung, the way your flesh ripped and teared when you shimmied it back and forth in the metal. The others had seen you but didn’t speak up, thankfully, not wanting any of their attention.

You felt sick with anxiety when the new blood made it easier to pull through, almost slipping out, your bones bruised and aching before you pushed your hands back in to avoid them being freed completely.

The rain had lessened, which wasn’t ideal but you could tell it would stop soon and you wanted to go with as much covering as possible. You were in another dense forest, it would be the perfect time. So, you got work, stomping your foot on the wagon to get someone’s attention.

It was Mok Tok who turned, glaring at you with a harsh, “What?” Your tail was squeezed between your thighs, jumping up and down to indicate you needed to pee. He seemed he was about to refute it when he had a second thought, turning to Hoolay and saying, “Master, the last toilet break for the prisoners was 12 hours ago. Shall we stop once more or wait until we arrive to the den?”

Your stomach dropped, did that mean you were close to their home? It really was now or never. Hoolay looked back to you, and you tried hard to show how desperate you were to go. He motions for everyone to stop, coming to you, “Fine. You two take the other prisoners. I’ll handle this one myself.” Like a giant claw - and you suppose it technically was - he grasped you by the top of your head and lifted you from the wagon, placing you down in the mud, your toes sinking into the mushy soil.

He had to nudge you to walk as you panicked. Why was splitting you up now? Every other time it has been one borisin watching you three, you were counting on that to have their attention diverted. Now the Warhead himself wants to watch you pee?

You get a considerable distance before he stops, staring at you with a heavy gaze. When you make no move he scoffs, smiling with a row of sharp teeth and a flick of his tail, “What, you can piss in front of my grunt but not me? Do I really make you that uncomfortable?” His voice lowers to a dangerous octave, “You flatter me.”

Now’s not the time to play his games. You turn around, using your tail to lift up the long, tattered dress that was uniform for everyone at the farm. Due to the first toilet break, a borisin had ripped your knickers off and tossed them so they wouldn’t have to keep doing it whenever you needed to go, so all you had to do was squat and bunch the cloth in your hands once you were low enough to reach. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing him watch you with boredom, huffing and averting his eyes lazily.

That was the best you were going to get. From this angle, it could be seen as you adjusting your clothes again, yet you were slipping your damaged wrists out of the cuffs. It was a little harder since the last time but you managed to do it, eyeing him from the side to see him focused on the raindrops off a leaf. Taking a deep breath, you bolted head on, scurrying over logs and bushes.

There was no noise behind you. As far as you’re aware, borisin aren’t silent hunters, they like to toy with their prey. So why wasn’t he chasing you? Not that you’re complaining, you hope to never encounter his kind again-

The reason for your lack of chase became apparent as you came skidding to a halt. You were at the edge of a canyon, forest on this side and a large, dusty and rocket desert on the other. Along the walls of the canyon were layers of stairs, openings, borisin. Not to mention the foxian slaves, digging and picking, holding food out to guards. Along the floor of the deep canyon is a rushing river, fast enough to be swept away should one fall in.

Hoolay casually walked up behind you, “the outside of our den. On the inside is long, winding halls and plenty of rooms. Should you get lost, there’s no telling what your fate is.” You were still in despair when he grabbed your hand, holding it up as he brought his nose down to inhale your wounds. Your fearful eyes looked to him when he licked up the torn skin, the saliva and pressure on his tongue stinging the sores which you tried to pull away from. He groaned in delight, yanking you closer to gently bite on the flesh, squeezing more blood out, “You think I can’t smell the difference between old and fresh blood? We knew of your little plan from the beginning. Even so,” his large hand slides up your back, claws tracing your spine tantalisingly and forcing you to push into his hard chest as he growls lowly in your ear, “You still tried to run from me, a bold move. I’ve decided, I’m going to keep you, personally. I will train you from a savage foxian into the obedient pet you were born to play.”

To be dismembered or to be a pet? Which is worse is hard to say. Your chattering teeth grit, the fear turning into desperate anger. Quickly, you duck under his arm to escape, only for him to grab the base of your tail and hold you in place. So you change tactics, trying to hit the base of your heel hard enough to hurt his chest and loosen his grip. However, as your foot makes contact with his torso, he doesn’t flinch and instead grabs your ankle and turn you upside down.

You’re left flailing in the air as he carries you like meat on a hook, holding your dress between your legs as you struggle so that you’re not blinded by the fabric. There really is no use. His pack watches in amusement as their leader returns with you, dropping you back into the wagon, “This one is mine. No one is allowed to touch them, understand?”

Frustrated and scared tears stream down your cheeks as they reply with a clear, “Yes, master!”

…

You’re not sure where the others went. Once you made it over the bridge and into the den, you were given to a purple borisin who commanded a bunch of servant foxians. She had supervised your wounds being treated before ordering them to take you to the bathhouse and clean you.

No one made eye contact, no one spoke to you or each other. It was frighteningly quiet, so you kept your head down as they scrubbed your ears and brushed out the knots in your tail. The tub you were in was cramped, a wooden bucket essentially. Hoses came out of the walls and a long gutter was imbedded in the ground to drain the water out somewhere. Even if it was awkward and daunting, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to get scrubbed raw by water that was almost too hot. Even at the farm, room temperature water was the highest form of luxury.

You actually felt clean for once.

Once you were done and dripping dry, the borisin from earlier reentered with a fluffy towel. She looked you over, clawed hand throwing the towel over your head, “You know how to dry yourself, yeah? I don’t know what you did but our master has taken a liking to you. Come.”

You wetly follow her through the winding halls with plaps of your feet hitting the floors, the servants behind you trailing diligently. You were too focused on trying to memorise the path that you hardly dried yourself by the time you reached your destination. A room was opened to you, chests and clothes along each wall, a mirror standing on the floor.

One glance at the mirror was enough for you to turn your head, not wanting to see yourself as the captive you are just yet; surrounded by slaves and a vicious wolf. Out of the corner of your eye though, you saw the enemy rummaging through chests until she found what she was looking for.

When she came back, she began putting golden chains on you, hanging from a gold collar around your neck, falling down your biceps, down the curves of your naked breasts, low enough to fall just past your hips. You dared another glance in the mirror, wondering if something so cold and with no fabric could still be called lingerie.

“Done. Let’s go,” she shoved at your back, the chains clinking slightly from the jolt as she pushed you out. The metal felt kind of nice, slinking along your skin with every step you took. The collar got hotter with your body heat, being a little uncomfortable but who were you to complain when you had no rights. It wasn’t until you were stopped beside her, a VERY long table with various foods and alcohols, mainly meats and few vegetables - don’t look at the foxian torso and thighs, don’t look at the foxian torso and thighs - that were slightly skewed from everyone picking at it that you felt a shot of self-consciousness. She bowed her head and addressed the warhead, “Master, she is clean and adorned for you.”

Since the day you were born, you were taught that nakedness and privacy didn’t matter. Farm animals didn’t get that decency, foxians don’t get that decency. You can count on one hand you’ve felt the need to cover yourself in front of someone, yet somehow right now, you feel like you need to cover every inch of skin and curl up in a hole to stop the eyes of their leader from clawing into you. Everyone stopped to stare at the new meat that had walked in, yet it was Hoolay that openly ogled you like you were more than just food.

You pretend not to notice the twitching under his belt, cloth moving over a large mound that you were hoping wasn’t for you. He grinned and leant forward, hooking his index under your collar and pulling you towards him, “Perfect, you’re dismissed.”

She and the slaves bowed before leaving you alone in the room full of beasts.

“C’mere,” Hoolay demands, already pulling you tightly against him, sitting you sideways in his lap. He’s so large, colossal, from his shoulder to his elbow alone almost the size of your body. He brings a chunk of meat to your lips, demanding you to eat. When you don’t part your mouth, he huffs and wedges a claw between your teeth, forcing you to open, “Relax, it is just bird.”

Sure enough, you’re inclined to agree, taking the meat from his hand so he’s no longer shoving it down your throat. As you slowly nibble on the meat, you’re lost to the words everyone is speaking around you, their language a mix of your common tongue and their own. You’re pretty confident, however, that they’re discussing about his new prize - you - and how you’ll taste.

Hoolay laughs after someone says something, easily moving you to sit flush against his torso with your back, spreading your legs wide over his thighs. You almost drop the bird meat when you see what he’s doing, releasing the confinements of his half-hard cock to hang over his leg. A low growl rumbles from his chest as he strokes it, moving it to stand hard and leaning against your tense torso. His knot is throbbing between your legs and the tip of him is poking the underside of your breasts, you can’t even imagine what he would feel like inside of you that doesn’t involve pain.

A slave comes beside him with a platter and a golden jug. Hoolay grabs it roughly before pouring the contents over his cock, the substance oozing out and over his dick like a sheer, golden syrup. He tosses the jug away with a clank, disregarding it in favour of smearing the liquid over your thigh, lightly squeezing, his giant maw hotly breathing against your cheek, “Go on. Have a taste. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

He’s so large that there’s no way you could swallow him more than his tip. You go in for a taste, holding the heavy weight below the glands to dutifully suck. The pungent under taste that you’re expecting is overshadowed by whatever he had coated his dick in. The pupils of your eyes blow wide and suddenly you’re suckling on the head like you’re trying to coach his cock to dispel more of the deliciously sweet substance.

Hoolay laughs at you, a low, growling groan emitting as his paw pets back the ears on your head, “Fffuck. That’s a good girl.” You whimper around him when he pushes you down, choking on what little you could swallow. His pre is enough to guzzle down your throat and bubble out of your mouth, it doesn’t ready you for when he cums, buckets of semen forced down your throat and into your stomach. He must’ve been pent up because even after he pulls away, he’s still very much hard. He opens his mouth beside your head, his jaw wide enough to encompass your skull if he really wanted to, laughing at the visage, “Such a tiny mouth for a pitiful creature. I wonder if the hole between your legs will be more accommodating, hm?”

You’re lifted and placed on your back, glistening in syrup and cum under the dim lighting by the candles around the room. Everyone stares in amusement as you dazedly bring your fingers to your mouth, sucking on the digits to get some more of the sweet syrup and hoping to overthrow his taste. It isn’t until you feel a rather large tongue lick up the slit of your pussy that you jerk, a string of saliva connecting to your fingers as you pull them away to gaze between your thighs.

Hoolay’s claws touched as they held one of your thighs up, out of the way for him to get a taste. You were already so wet and waiting, the desire to consume was rushing all throughout your body. Air was forced out of you when he let his heavy cock thud against your stomach, a little cum seeping from the corner of your mouth. Graciously and carefully, he slides a finger inside you and worms it around, stretching your cunt and causing you to moan, “So defiant you were on the ride here. Now look at you, arching into my hand like a pet looking for love from its owner. It feels good to give in to instinct, wouldn’t you agree?”

Even if you could talk, you wouldn’t need to as your tail swishes side to side underneath you, as though accepting his declaration. Your stomach is so full that even with just his fingers you feel you’re about to pop. Your legs fall open for him when he pushes his cock head down your slit and into your hole. You’re so grateful he helped you with the aphrodisiac, even if you wish you hated it, you know being absolutely torn apart would be too brutal to handle.

As a mercy, perhaps for being such a good girl, he takes it slow but doesn’t stop - not until he’s reached as far as he can inside you. Your legs are now propped up and of your stomach wasn’t distended from the mouthfuls of cum before, it certainly was from the massive dick inside you now. Your cheeks puff when he puts pressure on the lump he forms, “I’m impressed, little fox. Even with the amount of syrup used, I didn’t think you’d be able to hold out.”

It’s not until his hips start snapping against yours that you cringe, the movement jostling your insides, motion sickness hidden behind layers of pleasure. Your mouth is open, panting, the cool air the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. However, as ‘kind’ as he’s been, he seems to want to take more from you. His long, flat tongue enters your mouth, you’re gurgling around the muscle in this ruthless kiss. Your eyes roll back and hearing wavers as the oxygen in your lungs is stolen away.

Heavy balls plap against your arse, cum and syrup creating an odd, warm, wet sensation over your skin. You hadn’t realised you were clawing at Hoolay’s face until he retracted, his paws holding your biceps flat in the take with a heavy chunk to hold you down. Bruises were the least of your concerns as you could finally breathe again and consciousness came back, adding with a strong seizure of pleasure corrupting your body. Your clit pulsed and your pussy tightened from the euphoric buildup of oxygen and cock breeding your insides.

A round of cheers and clinking steins was heard in the background during your orgasm, but it was too intense to care and Hoolay had no intentions of stopping. The way your cunt suckled his dick was more than enough to keep him going.

Of course, it wasn’t the last time you would cum in his cock. The way he nipped at your skin and kissed you and licked over your body like he was getting ready to devour you; it all shot straight to your aroused core. Whenever you could form a single thought, though, you would concern yourself with the inevitable worry of his knot.

Hoolay’s knot was swelling to a considerable size and pretty soon you doubt you would be able to hold him. He seemed to realise this, however, because his thrusts were getting deeper and stuttering more often as his knot struggled to enter and escape your cunt. It wasn’t too soon that his hips closely hit against yours, balls tightening and jerking with every spurt of cum. His knot kept him stuck deep inside you, the low growls and groans making you tremble. Your legs were hiked and your stomach was folded, you felt like you were going to throw up as your stomach got fuller… and fuller… “Just look at you,” he grunts, pushing himself against you and making you groan, “Fucked out of your mind, at the mercy on our dinner table. Foxians like you are only good for one thing.”

You couldn’t keep it in, with the amount he was breeding you with, and the position he had you folded in, it was only a matter of time before it came back up. It wasn’t vomit, it was more like his cum didn’t make it all the way down. The semen you swallowed poured out, as though the cum he fucked into you had overflowed out of your mouth. Tears streamed from the corners of your eyes in shame and confusion, your chin, chest, stomach, legs, everything was dirty and smothered in Hoolay’s dna.

He laughed heartily at your pitiful display, cool still nestled deep in, one hand coming under the arch of your back to lift you up and rest against him. He sat back on his chair, idly dragging a claw down your spine, your skin alight with goosebumps. His voice seemed a lot more content now, “Bring out the slaves. It is time for everyone to enjoy themselves.”

You barely recognised what was happening, your consciousness slowly returning to you over time. Crying, means, laughing, scared whimpers were all present thought your minor rest. Eventually, you had the strength to lift your head, seeing you’re not the only unfortunate soul to be used as a plaything. This place truly is horrible.

Finally, Hoolay’s knot had reduced enough to be plucked from your hole. He grabbed one of the chains around you and half heartedly threw you to the floor. You were confused and struggled to push yourself up, only to halt when a hot stream of liquid hit the top of your head. Piss. He was pissing on you, making sure to cover your body in his stench. The face you made could almost be described as betrayal, save for the fact that you had no faith in him to begin with. Once finished, he lets go of his half hard cock and stares into your eyes, “Everyone will smell who you belong to. You will not be able to take one step in this place without me knowing where you are.”

All you can do is grit your teeth, nails digging into the ground. The piss makes the wounds on your wrists sting like crazy, your hair and fur drenched in both cum and urine. It stinks. The bruises on your arms were forming nicely and you can only wait to see how pretty they’ll bloom by morning.

To add salt to the wound, Hoolay pours water into an empty bowl and places it in there for beside you, “You can bathe again later, we must let it soak in so the pheromones stick.” He stands, cocking his head in admiration of his work on you, smiling wickedly, “It’s about time I got myself a pet. And I know you’ll be such a good girl for me.”

Your head falls forward in this defeat, eyes making contact with your exhausted reflection in the water bowl.

[outsideratheart]

Helium (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: This is chapter 6 of The Legacy Series.

You laid on your sofa debating whether or not to call Alexia. This seemed to be happening a lot recently but given that you had been out for breakfast together you wasn’t sure if she would want to see you again. 

Things had been going really well between the two of you, both on and off the pitch. On the pitch you had officially found your groove having scored 11 goals in the last 7 games. Off the pitch you find yourself in an unfamiliar state of happiness. Days off were never spent alone and you no longer made table reservations for one as Alexia joined you in your goal of eating at every restaurant and drinking at every coffee shop in Barcelona.  

Your thumb hovers over Alexia’s contact before hitting the call button. It rings 4 times before you get her voicemail. You see this as a sign that you should get an early night so you do just that. Besides, you have training in the morning so you only have to wait a few more hours until you can see her again. 

Only the next morning you arrive at Joan Camper and a certain midfielder is missing.

“Oh Y/N” Mapi grabs your hand pulling you towards her table in the canteen “You know why Alexia is late don’t you? The two of you are always together so she will have told you something” 

You could think of many words to describe Alexia but late is not one of them, especially not when it came to training. This was reason enough for concern but you didn’t want to worry the rest of the team so you chose to lie.

“She had a photoshoot this morning but don’t worry she’ll be here in time for us to destroy her at the fitness test” you hoped your joke would help cover the lie and to your relief it was.

Alexia did turn up to the facility albeit it 2 1/2 hours after training had started. The rest of the team didn’t think twice about it given you told them she was going to be late but you on the other hand wanted to know why she was late. 

The two of you partner up for the next drill and it gives you the opportunity to question her away from the other girls. 

“Is everything ok?” You ask her. 

“Thank you for covering for me this morning. It won’t happen again” she dodges the question and you recognise the avoidance technique all to well. 

“Ale” you grab her hand and pull her to the side of the pitch. 

“What are you doing? We are in the middle of training” Alexia looks around and sees that you have caught the attention of a few staff members. 

“And we will go back to that in a minute. Talk to me? Has something happened?” 

“I’m fine. I overslept” 

“That’s a lie” you call her out without hesitation. 

“It is” Alexia mumbles as runs back onto the pitch where the rest of the team are waiting for you. 

For the rest of the session it felt like Alexia was avoiding you and only you. Every so often you would catch her eye, she would hold the gaze for a couple of seconds, flash a quick smile and then turn away. At least you knew she wasn’t ignoring you. 

Alexia’s behaviour continued for the next couple of days and every time you asked her about it she found a way to change the subject. You started to worry but after talking to Mapi & Jenni you learnt that sometimes Alexia does this. She goes quiet and pulls away but it doesn’t last longer than a week. 

“Alexia please wha—“ 

You don’t get the chance to ask her what is wrong yet again because you are interrupted although this time it isn’t by the Spaniard it is by Lieke.

“Y/N your mum keeps calling me because you won’t take her calls. Care to explain?”

This gets Alexia’s attention. Over the time she has known you she has learnt that you are very close with you mum so that fact you are ignoring her calls is a concern.

“It’s fine. I’ll handle it” you try to keep your response as short as possible.

“Is it about the thing?” Lieke speaks in code given that you are not alone.

“She just wants to check in and make sure I’m behaving here in Barcelona. You know how she gets” you joke.

“You’re lying” Alexia know you well enough to know when you aren’t telling the truth.

You found it ironic. Here Alexia stands calling you a liar when she has been lying about what’s been going on with her for the last week.

“It’s what we do, no?” You want to get a reaction out of her. You want her to admit she that has been keeping something from you but she doesn’t. Instead she mumbles something incoherent before walking away.

“She wasn’t calling to check up on you Y/N. She wants to go if you plan on going back to Amsterdam for the event” Lieke didn’t speak up when Alexia was around but she did want to talk to you about it now.

“I’m not going. I’ve told her this multiple times but she keeps pushing. I’ll tell her to stop calling you”

“I’d go with you. I know its been a few years but I had fun when you took me to the last one”

“I’m not going Lieke and you know why”

You went home that night in a much worse mood than you wanted to. Something was wrong with Alexia and you just wanted to help her but she was determined to shut you out. Then there was your mother who took the word persistent to a whole new level. 

The team had the next 4 days off, now normally you would have made plans with Alexia but you hadn’t had the chance so you try to call her to see if she was up for doing something only her phone goes straight to voicemail. One ring and she declined the call, it stung.

The next morning you text her to tell her you’re free if she wanted to do something. By doing this the ball was in her court, all you could do is wait and hope that she replies. Hours pass by before you admit that Alexia isn’t going to call but you’re not willing to waste the day at home so you decide to go to the training ground. You had a lot on mind over the past couple of days but your mind was calm whenever you were on the pitch.

You’re not sure how much time has passed but you know it must have been a few hours because the groundsman turns the flood lights on. When you arrived he told you that you could stay as long as you want, the man was a saint and often helped you sneak into the grounds when you weren’t suppose to be there.

Out the corner of your eyes you see two people and you can tell they are female by their silhouettes. You are in two minds as what to do; go to them and possibly get in trouble or pretend you didn’t see them and hope they go away. When you see them walking over you prepare for the worse but as they get close you recognise them.

“Y/N” Eli says as she gets closer.

The sight of the two Putellas women causes a pit to form in your gut. Alba stands quietly to the side of her, her eyes red from recent tears.

“Hi. Is everything ok?” You ask fearful of an honest answer.

“Have you seen Alexia? We have been trying to get in touch with her all day. She always comes here when she needs an escape” 

Why would Alexia need an escape? Could this have something to do with her recent behaviour?

“I haven’t. I tried calling her last night and texted her this morning to see if she wanted to something today but she didn’t answer. Eli, is Alexia ok?” 

“We don’t know” this is first time Alba looks directly at you and the heartbroken expression is enough for you to reach out for her.

“Are you ok Alba?” Your hand rests on her shoulder in hopes it would bring some kind of comfort. You hadn’t spoken to her since that day at the stadium but she was Alexia’s sister which means you cared for her.

“I need to find my sister. Will you help?”

“Of course. How about you go back to her apartment to see if she has come home and I will see if I can find her, I can think of a few places” 

“Gracias Y/N” Eli says.

This sounded a lot worse that you original feared. At first you thought you had done something to Alexia or that she wanted space like you did a couple of months ago. Now you knew this wasn’t the case and it in fact had nothing to do with you.

As you drove home your eyes scanned the streets hoping and praying by some miracle that you find her but it was wishful thinking. You enter the code to the gate and what you are met with isn’t something you expected. Alexia is sat on your door step, her knees tucked into her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She looked so small.

“Alexia, what are you doing here? You mother and sister are worried about you” you scold her but instantly regret it when she looks up and you see her face. Tears were falling down her face and given the puffiness of her eyes they had been for quite a while. 

“Come here” you hold your hands out and pull alexia into your arms. Her body shakes as she seemingly lets go of the emotions that she has been bottling up for god knows how long. “I’ve got you” 

In order to open the front door you have to let her go but you keep a hold of her hand. Once inside Alexia is back in your arms. You care deeply for this woman but only in this moment did you realise just how much. Seeing Alexia this broken breaks your heart. 

“I’m sorry” Alexia pulls away and tries to wipe away her tears only for you to stop her. She didn’t need to hide her pain, not around you.

“There’s nothing to apologise for Ale. Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just want to know what I can do to help”

“You’re already doing it” the smile that appears on her face is weak but nevertheless it is a smile.

With her hand in yours you lead her to the sofa and wait for to be ready to talk about whatever it is that has her so upset.

“It’s the 10th anniversary of my dad’s death”

“Oh Alexia” you rubbed her thigh soothingly.

“I didn’t want to come to you because I knew that it would bring up feelings for you too, how could it not. I know I’ve been cold towards you but I knew you’d recognise my pain and I wanted to try and get through the week. I just wanted to be alone, I always do”

It’s moment like this that you realise just how similar you and Alexia are. You both had the same coping mechanisms for your grief, as unhealthy as they might be.

“Yet here you are, with me, in my house, after sitting on my doorstep waiting for me to get home” 

Alexia cannot help but laugh. Her actions and her thoughts did not align in the slightest. Deep down she knew why she came to you, today but she wasn’t ready to admit what it meant.

“I just needed to escape”

It’s as if a light bulb goes off and you cannot believe what you are about to suggest. 

“How much of an escape?” You ask her.

“This city is too much right now so I’ll go anywhere, why? What do you have in mind?”

“Something I hope not to regret” 

You could feel Alexia’s breath on your shoulder as she watches you open your contacts on your phone. She doesn’t see who it is you call but the opening sentence of what you say next gives her the answer.

“Hallo mama. Ja ik kom. Ik heb twee kaartjes nodig.”

The call is short and sweet for two reasons. One, you wanted to give Alexia your full attention and two, you didn’t want to answer you mother’s endless amount of questions.

“C’mon, I’ll help you pack” 

“Y/N wait” Alexia runs after you as you make your way to the front door “Where are we going?” 

This is why Alexia came to you. You knew what to do to help her when she didn’t know what to do herself. 

“I’m taking you home” 

“No, I’m not ready for that yet” Alexia’s grabs your hand and pulls you back into the house.

“Not your home Alexia, mine. You showed me Barcelona through your eyes and now you get to see Amsterdam through mine”

This time Alexia’s smile is wide. You were taking her to Amsterdam, the place that you told her so many stories about. 

Only 24 hours ago you were adamant that you wouldn’t be attending the annual Johan Cruyff foundation gala yet here you are on your way to Alexia’s apartment so you can help her pack. You may not want to go but you knew this is exactly what Alexia needed. 

[superdupersunny420]

A Little Visit - Sam (Stardew Valley) x GN Reader

wk - 1.6k

Blurb - Poor farmer hasn’t had a lot of motivation to do… anything really. A certain blonde skater wanted to check up on them.

Sam is such a cutie and he’s all over my tiktok right now so, first fic had to be him <3

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

You hadn’t written a letter to your parents in a while. Your mom made sure to write often and your dad often put little messages into her letters for you. The motivation to get up to a desk or table never really hit, at least that was at the start.

No motivation to write a letter moved to no motivation to plant any seeds for the season and when it hit the 11th day of summer, you had no motivation to get up and go to the Luau. Spending all day in bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom or get something to eat, felt better than having to get up and ready for the day. If someone of Pelican Town were to ask why you have been hiding away in your little home on the farm, you wouldn’t have much of an answer for them, a shrug of your shoulders at most. As much as it sucks for you to not have an answer, it’s just the way it’s always been. Periods of time where even the simplest of tasks would be so difficult for you, where even simply getting out of bed is such a chore that you can hardly achieve it.

‘Maybe that’s why my parents have been sending me letters more often.’ They probably realise that you’re in one of your… moods.

However, your mopping around was interrupted by a knock on the door. Debating on whether you actually wanted to get up and answer, the knock progressively got louder until you flung the blanket off you and waddled your way over. You didn’t know what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t the blonde hair boy you’ve been crushing on practically since you’ve come to pelican town.

Sam stood at your door, a sheepish smile on his face scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey.”

You quickly shut the door in his face. You knew you looked a mess; in the same clothes you’ve been sleeping in for… who knows how many days. Your hair greasy and messy from doing nothing except lying in bed in the heat. He couldn’t see you like this and oh god, the farm. You haven’t been out to tidy the farm in a while and your lack of crops must have been a pathetic sight.

“Um… you okay?”

But that’s also when you realise you can’t just leave Sam standing outside. He was obviously here for a reason, one of which you weren’t even willing to hear him out on before rudely slamming a door in his face. So after a few seconds of peptalk and mentally preparing for socialising, you opened the door once again.

“Sorry bout’ that. Um, ignore the appearance, I… haven’t got ready today?”

It sounded a lot more like you were trying to convince yourself than him, but Sam didn’t point it out, he just smiled. The same cute grin he always has on his face, the one that brought butterflies to your stomach and made your heart skip a beat. It was a weird thing to think about, the fact that whether you’re fully presentably or looking the messiest, he still has the same look in his eyes.

“Ha, no problem! I just thought I would swing by, see how things are.”

Oh. Well, guess he must have noticed you haven’t been out much.

You pushed open your door to allow him to come in and offered him a Joja Cola (knowing he liked them) all the while getting yourself a drink and trying to make yourself look at least a little more presentable. After grabbing drinks, you both take a seat at the small table. Sam looked around, feeling a bit awkward with what to do. He’s come over to the farmers house but doesn’t really know what to do now. ‘Hey, I’ve noticed you’ve not left your house in like 11 days? What’s up with that? Also, I lowkey miss our chats and you so where have you been?’ wouldn’t really be the way to go about this all.

“So is everything okay? Did you need something?”

No time for him to think though, Sam looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Uh, yeah- no. But…”

He took a second, taking a sip of his Joja Cola and putting the can down, looking at his hands for a second before looking back at you with a face of concern.

“I don’t want to be nosey or be pushing you in anyway, but I’ve noticed you’ve not really been, out? You weren’t at the Luau either. I just… I don’t know, I was worried for you. You’re always about the town, it’s weird not seeing you around anymore.”

You stare at Sam for a second, processing what he just said. You never really realised that other people would care, or even realise that you weren’t up and about. You really didn’t really know what to say, only having it in you to look at him with a frown on your face.

“Obviously, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine! But, I’ve got no plans today and I’m not at work so if you’re wanting some company?”

Sam smiles, the same stupid grin on his face and you can’t help the small smile on yours as tears well up in your eyes.

“Sam, I- You’re too sweet.”

Pink rushes to Sam’s checks and he waves one of his hands in the air.

“Hey! What friend would I be if I left you in here all alone.”

You shuffle a bit in your seat and look down at your hands, knowing that Sam was still waiting for an answer to his original question (are you okay?). You’ve never really opened up too many people before, only your mom and dad knowing about your problems, it’s hard for you to be honest. But, Sam sits, a small reassuring smile on his face, one hand holding his can of Joja Cola, and his other being used as a head rest. His eyes held no judgment, and he gave no indication that you were in a rush. He was willing to sit there for as long as you needed.

“I don’t know, I just… I always have periods where I just, lose all my motivation. It sounds stupid I know.”

Sam shakes his head and goes to butt in; however, you don’t let him. If you don’t get it all out now you don’t think you’ll be able to push yourself to get it out later.

“And I know it’s not that simple. I can’t just stop being a functioning human being but its’s so, so hard. I can hardly get out of bed, which means I’ve just let the farm handle itself and I couldn’t even push myself to go to the Luau. God, I haven’t even written to my family in ages. I just… can’t. Everything feels like such a chore, and I- “

You stop to take a deep breath, tears welling up in your eyes. You’d been looking down at the table since the start of your rambling, not having it in you to look at Sam.

“Woah, man. Seems like a lot you’ve been dealing with.”

Sam’s smile is gone, instead it’s replaced with a face of concern. He doesn’t push you to look at him or anything, he just continues with what he’s saying.

“It’s okay to feel down in the dumps, you’re human it’s bound to happen. And you’ve done so much since you’ve first moved to pelican town, if I’m being honest, I’m amazed you’ve only just reached the burnout stage. But you don’t have to deal with this all alone, you’ve got the whole town to help you with things! And you can always come to me if you ever need anything, I’m happy to help.”

You look up at Sam, eyes red from crying, face looking puffy and messy, but Sam says nothing. He just smiles at you, looking at you with a face of compassion.

“I know me saying all this isn’t just gonna cure your problems but, I hope it helps. And as I said, I’ve got no plans today so I’m happy to help or keep you company!”

You stand up and walk over to Sam’s side of the table, instinctively he stands up at well, and you wrap your arms around him. He’s quick to crush you into a hug back.

“Also, I’ve missed our talks, I have new music to show you AND I beat my high score on my game!”

Sam quietly whispers and you let out a little laugh and smile, even though you know it’ll take a little bit more for you to break out your habits, you’re happy you’ve got a friend there to help you along the way.

“So! What should we do, farmer?”

Sam grins at you and puts a thumbs up. You laugh at the nickname and take a second to think.

“I need to write a letter to my parents, and maybe if I have the effort, I’ll plant some seeds tomorrow.”

Sam nods and puts up an okay sign.

“If you want, I can go to Pierre’s and buy the seeds you need while you get busy writing?”

You smile at Sam and nod, quickly scribbling down a list of the summer seeds you need and handing over the money he’ll need. You walk to the door and see him pick up his skateboard as he turns to wave.

“Be back soon! You better get writing!”

You turn into your house with a smile, grabbing a pen and paper before sitting at the table. You’re thankful for your visit from Sam, and even more thankful for everything that he’s willing to do for you, his friend.

[honestly-oceanie]

You drew stars around my scars || Manhwa DILFS edition

Synopsis: drawing or painting something on them

《Claude de Alger Obelia, Anastacius de Alger Obelia, Regis Adri Floyen, Abel Heilon, Gallahan Lombardi, Charente Crown, Dane Henstone, Lant Agriche | gn!reader》

{Fluff♡ | ▪︎imagine/scenario▪︎}

A/N: should I do the female leads/characters next?

Who Made Me A Princess/ Suddenly, I Became A Princess One Day

Claude De Alger Obelia

"Emperor of the Obelian Empire"

🦋 You were sitting on one of the couches provided on the Emperor's office per usual. Just laying there doing nothing eventually got you into boredom.

🦋 You started to think of something that may entertain you. Then your eyes come across the quill on Claude's office table. You suddenly remembered that day you spend with Athy.

🦋 The young princess managed to get ahold of some paint and offered if she could paint some doodle on you. You had been strict on neatness so this made you quite nervous inside yet you agreed with the young princess' request. She did told you to return the same favor to her, and you both had the joyous laugh and fun of your lives. Lily did scold the both of you after she caught you two.

🦋 Since it's only you and the Emperor, only he could be your victim. You ask if you could draw on him mindlessly, forgetting just who you were talking to. After a long moment of stunned silence, you finally realized that the person you were talking to is Claude de Alger Obelia.

🦋 As you were about to apologize, he says: "It's fine." Of course you were shock, contemplating if he did mean it or if it's your last day of living. After a while, you finally stood up and did as you wanted to.

🦋 As a matter of fact, he actually saw what happened that day, he could hear your rare laugh along with his daughter's. He decided to 'check' on what was happening and there he saw you both, filthy with paint yet happy. Thus, today he was quite shock by your sudden request, he won't ever admit it but he felt quite jealous seeing that.

🦋 It would be quite nice to do this to him while he's having his beauty rest, but only when you have the guts🤭

ଘ・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦

Who Made Me A Princess/ Suddenly, I Became A Princess One Day

Anastacius De Alger Obelia

"Former Emperor of the Obelian Empire"

🦋 Let's set this by the time he's still possessed.

🦋 As Lady Jennette's personal attendant, you had always been around her as she grew up. You were kindhearted and gentle. Jennette really admires you a lot, she grew to see you as a parental figure of hers.

🦋 One day, you saw Jennette chatting with a man that seemed familiar for some reason. After debating with yourself whether you should interrupt or not, you remembered the reason you came looking for her.

🦋 Anastacius could see you walking forward from his peripheral vision but he continued to talk with his daughter.

"Lady Jennette, your afternoon tea is ready."

"Right of course! I'll see you next time Viscount!"

🦋 After Jennette left, you and Anastacius had a short staring contest before you left to go follow the young lady.

🦋 Jennette doesn't seem to mind the company of this certain Viscount Patterson yet you were rather suspicious of him, he just has this mysterious aura that you can't trust him just yet. However, you didn't voice out your doubts, you were just a mere servant you couldn't just interfere in your master's business that easily. Eventhough Jennette wouldn't mind at all

🦋 After some days, there seem to be no suspicious movement from him so you started to warm up to him a bit. What matters the most to you was Jennette's safety and happiness.

🦋 You and Jennette were doodling on each others arms, this always bring calm to Jennette and she enjoys doing this so it has became a habit between you both, sometimes Ijekiel does join when he has spare time but today he was quite busy so instead you were accompanied by Viscount Patterson. Jennette's friendly personality invited him as he happened to pass by, and here he is now seated beside you.

🦋 Jennette had gotten tired and decided to take a break. As she ate her biscuits she suggested for him to join and for you to draw on him as she is too tired to continue.

"May I?"

🦋 You asked him and he did agree, only because of his daughter. He was surprise at how good you are and compliment you for your talent. He asked if you were an artist before but you were not, though painting and sketching are hobbies of yours.

🦋 Jennette watch the interaction between you two, she was very happy and celebrating inside. Although you were kind and gentle, you're also very shy, she still remembers the time you first meet her. Your soft voice and stuttering at your introduction replays in her memory. Before, you couldn't even talk without a stutter at all, yet here you are now finally allowing yourself to mingle with others.

🦋 You were slowly warming up, and Anastacius could see that too.

ଘ・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦

Father, I Dont Want To Get Married!

Regis Adri Floyen

"Duke of the Floyen Duchy"

🦋 At this very moment, Regis feels as the most fortunate man to be able to have you in this life.

🦋 Jubel is seated in front of you as you do a portrait of her. After you had finish, she excitedly rush to you. Seeing your finished masterpiece of her, Jubellian poured a waterfall of praises while gazing amazedly at you.

🦋 She fancied you even in the 'novel', you were the only one who genuinely cared for the villainess. You tried everything to break up Jubellian and Mikhail, knowing he wasn't sincere with her at all, yet it cause the connection between you both to cut off as Jubellian believes "you did not want for her to be happy". Despite all that, you still defended her during the accident even if it costed you your life.

🦋 The entire ordeal, Regis just watched your interaction with his daughter, very grateful that you are still a part in this life. The serenity of the sight in front of him brought Regis' heart into peace. This tranquility he wishes would last, but he knows now is not the right time, but eventually it will come. He has been given a second chance to right the wrongs so he must use this chance, right?

🦋 Jubel could feel some piercing eyes from behind her, she turned to scold max as she thought it was just him, but it was her father, gazing lovingly at them. Picking up on the hint, Jubel excuse herself so you and her father could spend some time.

🦋 Regis took the seat Jubel previously seated on, waiting for you to pick up on his presence. All of a sudden, Selena thought it would be a good opportunity to be the third wheel. You heard a chirping on your side, knowing it was either Selli or Eddie, you took a look at your side only to yelp, surpise to find the empty spot replaced by Regis and Selena on his shoulder.

🦋 Afterwards you started some small talk with him while petting Selli, who moved to lay on your lap. Since you had already made a portrait and painting of Regis before, you thought why don't he become your canvas this time.

🦋 Although he was confuse on what you meant he agreed, you hold his arm and started drawing some cute animals you could think of there. Although it wasn't his first time seeing your artworks, it never ceases to amaze him.

🦋 He loves to give compliments and praises to your artworks and you. In this life, he will cherish you always and never take you for granted.

🦋 While you two are having a lovey-dovey moment, Jubel watches from the door, she was very happy for the two of you, however someone was not. Selena was not happy, not because of the two of you but because you still haven't made a portrait of her. Don't worry 'cause Edward comforted her as he too, still hasn't gotten his own portrait.

ଘ・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦

Author Of My Own Destiny/ I Became The Wife Of The Male Lead

Abel Heilon

"Duke of the North"

🦋 You and Abel had a slow burn romance which Fiona greatly regrets now. At first she thought it was a good idea and she really liked how it turned out. But right now she just wants to shove the two of you together in one place so these longing stares will finally come to an end.

🦋 Even Siegren understands the situation very well and wants to help pushing it too. Fiona herself is tired of you two, just why did it had to be slow burn?!

🦋 Finally, Siegren and Fiona had come up with a plan. A few plans as a matter of fact. Though hopefully they won't have to use all of it.

🦋 The first two plans failed miserably. But they say third time's a charm.

🦋 You were invited by Siegren and Fiona, they said they wanted to spend some time with you and have 'fun'. You, of course agreed, you love these kids too much to even reject their puppy eyes. You guys are on Fiona's room, some art materials scattered on the floor waiting to be use.

🦋 You have no idea why they thought of this, but currently you three are running around the room having a paint war, attacking whoever you get ahold of with some messy drawing or even a doodle with the paint you have in your hands.

🦋 Now Fiona's room isn't presentable at all not even a little decent, but none of you cared, even Fiona and Siegren are having too much fun that they almost forgot their mission. Luckily Abel came in at point.

🦋 Abel was stunned at what had happen to Fiona's room, he scolded the children for their reckless behavior. Now things weren't going as planned. You couldn't stand to see the kids being scolded for you have a very soft spot for them. You just said what you could think of at that moment; inviting Abel to join you guys instead. You were surprise you even had the guts to interrupt him but words can't be taken back once they're said. Fiona and Siegren were internally celebrating, you managed to sail the boat without even knowing!

🦋 Abel was pondering for awhile if he should really join you guys or scold you too. But he succumb to his desire and join you three, though just most likely you. The kids immediately run off on the corner of the room to avoid disturbing you two, then acted as though they were doing something. You give a smile to Abel as he sat down beside you. You raise the paint brush on your hand, silently asking him if you could draw on him and he nodded.

🦋 You looked serious as you were doing your task but really, your heart was beating too fast it could leap out of your chest, you tried your best to look normal as possible, unbeknownst to you Abel was on a similar situation. Fiona and Siegren just staring at you both intensely, praying and hoping that this plan would succeed.

🦋 After you had finish Abel stared at your drawing for awhile before grabbing your wrist and the paint brush on your hand, taking you by surprise but also intrigued by what he is gonna do. Instead of drawing, he seemed to write some letters on your arm but you couldn't read it properly as he was covering it. After he had finally written the words he couldn't say, he let you read it.

🦋 Your eyes went wide as you proccess the words written on your arm by Abel Heilon himself. This was a sudden confession but Abel couldn't hold it in anymore. There was a long moment of silence, Abel was growing nervous, maybe this wasn't the right time, but you proved him wrong as you jumped on him to tackle him with a hug. You repeated the words he wrote to you as you stared at his eyes.

🦋 Just the two of you on your own world... until Fiona and Siegren cheered loudly to celebrate this success, you two had almost forgetten they were there too.

ଘ・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦

I'll Be The Matriarch In This Life/ I Shall Master This Family

Gallahan Lombardi

🦋 You and Gallahan are always willing to try anything new in your relationship, that's how you two have had a lot of habits and tradition you both just randomly made up.

🦋 Just like now, when you saw a quill on the table, you dipped it with its ink, and did some cute little drawings on his face while your other hand keeps him steady. He just sat still waiting for you to finish what you were doing without interrupting you.

🦋 Once you were done, you run around to find a hand mirror then gave it to him so he could see what you've done to him, he was surprise as it was his first time seeing you draw something even though it is on his face, but he liked how good your drawings are even if it's simple.

🦋 He feign sadness as you laugh at him. Promising to help him clean up after you feel satisfied. He wasn't gonna back down that easily, whilst you were trying to calm down, he swiftly got ahold of the quill and did the same favor on you, it caught you off guard.

🦋 Instead of cleaning up, you ended up having a competition on who had the best drawing. Tia was walking around when she saw what you two were doing, it seems fun she wanted to join and of course you both let her.

🦋 In the end, you both made tia win, you and Gallahan now look messier than ever as you let tia draw a lot, what's important was that you had tia have some fun. Since tia didn't had much inks on her, you let the maids take care of her.

🦋 You and Gallahan are helping each other remove the inks on each other. Being together brought you both in happiness, no matter the circumstance you may face you know you both can pull through. Afterall you promised one another to be there through sickness and health. For now, while there is still chance you try to do everything you can before the time is up. One's presence may fade but their memories will never cease to exist.

ଘ・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦

Please Give Me The Pacifier!

Charente Crown

"Heir to the Crown Duchy"

🦋 I have mixed feelings with this man so I don't know what I'm doing here.

🦋 Kaishan loves to have you around, because of you Kaishan had become rebellious to his father, thus Charente had allowed you to visit his manor at some appointed time(s) which honestly scared you.

🦋 But overtime Charente had gotten used to your presence, he eventually let you visit at anytime you wished to which made you and Kaishan celebrate with joy.

🦋 You had thought about doing this activity so Kaishan could have some fun. Your company is enough for Kaishan to have fun and be happy. Unfortunately, you had forgotten to bring the materials with you, you apologize to the cute kid but he told you not to worry, he left the room in a hurry but not before telling you to not follow him as he will be back soon.

🦋 Kaishan run off to find his father and told him the situation. After some minutes of waiting, Kaishan finally returned... with his father carrying the materials needed. Thankfully you had gotten accustomed with his existence so you did not mind him around anymore.

🦋 At first, you were just calmly teaching him how to do some basic painting starting with shapes first yet he decided to start a war by smudging some paint on your face on purpose, he gave a cheeky apology afterwards but you knew you weren't putting down without a fight, so you return the same favor to him. You and Kaishan are now filthy with paint yet Charente didn't stop you at all, you both were having a good time.

🦋 You didn't know, but as much as you make Kaishan happy, you also make Charente happy internally, he is already satisfied with the proximity you two have and yet he can't help but feel jealous of his own son right now.

🦋 You could feel him burning holes at the back of your head so you turn to look at him. His eyes seems to say something, you had an inkling on what it may be but you did not dwell much on it, afterall he was a man that's very hard to read, you'd rather avoid the consequences than to suffer from it because of some misunderstanding.

ଘ・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦

Tricked Into Becoming The Heroine's Stepmother

Duke Dane Henstone

🦋 His situation is quite similar to Charente's but successful thanks to the help of his little pumpkin that made it possible.

🦋 You were at the garden with Pierta, watching as she eats one of her favorite candy, pumpkin candy. You are aware of how much she loves her pumpkin and wanted to do something special for her, unfortunately, you had no idea how to cook nor bake so you think of other ideas.

🦋 You remembered in your childhood how much you loved to have the ink spilled on your skin as you draw whatever you could think of, you always end up getting scolded by nanny, in the end the entire household made sure that any ink or something that may color your skin will be out of reach for you. At first you threw tantrums but eventually you grew to forget about it.

🦋 Luckily, you always bring a pen with you. You thought about drawing some cute pumpkins on Pierta. The little one complied when you ask her to give you her hand, then you started drawing some pumpkins with funny faces. Pierta seemed to like it too much as she reaches out to you again asking you to do more.

🦋 You chuckled nervously, you don't wish for the little pumpkin to have the same habit, just thinking about it made you sweat anxiously you don't want to face the wrath of Duke Henstone. Pierta notice some eyes and looked up to see her father, she immediately stood up and ran to him excitedly. You bowed to the Duke as you greet him, Pierta could understand that her father likes you and decided to be the cupid.

🦋 She drags her father towards you and have him seated, she explained to him what you were doing to her a few moments ago, she asks if you could do the same to her father. You tried to make up an excuse "Only if the Duke agrees with it." And of course he would, he'll do anything his daughter asks of him.

🦋 In the end, you gave in, how could you resist the little pumpkin. You were seriously staring at what you were doing while the Duke is also busy staring at you, none of you notice the chestnut cupid sneakily running away. After you had finish you looked up to him but immediately looked away after he stared back at you. It seems the little pumpkin went away huh. You finally started small conversation with him which he has been waiting to as he couldn't do so, something always happens whenever he wants to talk to you.

🦋 He'll be sure to thank his princess, knowing well that it was her who gave him this opportunity.

ଘ・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦・┈┈・✧・┈┈・✦

The Way To Protect The Female Lead's Older Brother

Lante Agriche

"Former Head of the Black Agriche"

🦋 Nah. Just Nah. Runn🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

Honestly, Oceanie

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

[hybbart]

Was Revy’s death something planned long before or a more recent development?

Tl;dr it was an idea I had in the back of my mind for a while now that it could happen, but when and where weren't set in stone until circumstances naturally fell that way and I was literally drawing the pages.

It's something that came about naturally. I knew once I did the more time-skippy years Revy would probably die eventually, just because he was getting older, but how and why came about as events happened. It was just 'this thing happened and here's the logistics of it based on everything'.

There was a chance Revy would die protecting Jimmy the same way there was a chance Jimmy would lose his wings or Hels would die- I don't decide anything for certain until it's down on a page and published- but it wasn't something I wanted to happen off screen at the very least. The way events played out and what I wanted to draw that's how the cookie crumbled that he survived, but the sculk was something that would be a problem and it happened that by the time they saved Jimmy it was mid-fall.

I thought also after so many bad days the ranchers ought to have a few good days before all the consequences caught up, it might be too depressing if they didn't get at least a small moment to breathe.

I go back and forth on whether the sculk should have started being visible on the outside, but I thought it might be Too Much on top of everything to have that stress when Jimmy was kidnapped and it's completely possible for it to have not been visible. It had thr side effect of probably feeling out of nowherr maybe, that's the give and take of the options.

I also debated whether the ranchers would leave him to turn, try to prolonge things, or put him down. The first option was eliminated pretty quickly, but I decided it probably would be again Too Much afyer this arc to have another full winter's worth of pages where Revy is either slowly dying in the bg or not present at all? Either way I knew by that point Revy just wouldn't make it through the winter if it was infecting his brain already. He'd only get more unpredictable and violent and need lots of care and focus, and that seemed like both for the sake of the readers and the ranchers not a great choice.

It might have been the choice Tango made if he was on his own, though. I don't think he has the constitution to put a pet to sleep, even if E False could provide the medicine to do it painlessly. But with Jimmy there I think it's the most believable and realistic choice for them.

[kay-jaye]

aziraphale is pretty sure attempting to sneak a demon into heaven is a bad idea.

forget the fact that he’s the supreme archangel. forget the fact that the second coming is not going at all according to plan—his plan…the ineffable plan? forget the fact that he and crowley haven’t had a moment alone that wasn’t interrupted by muriel or maggie or nina or a legion of demons or the end of the world.

forget the fact that crowley hasn’t taken those wretched sunglasses off since…

it’s definitely a bad idea.

crowley is wearing a cream-colored suit over one of those turtlenecks with a gold version of his usual scarf, saying something about heavenly bees, but whatever joke he’s trying to make falls flat because all aziraphale can think is, i could appoint you to be an angel, you could come back to heaven, and isn’t that the pinnacle of cruel irony?

he understands why the disguise is necessary; it’s the not-so-subtle rub-in-the-face from a bitter demon squeezing his heart into a fist. it’s the prick of unease in the back of his mind that something isn’t quite right, the floor is at an odd angle, that book belongs on a different shelf. at the same time, it’s the you’re gorgeous he’s longed to return since before the beginning, sitting behind clenched teeth every day for 6,000 years. and it’s the realization that this was not what he imagined at all.

“this the one?” crowley asks, flipping through a file laid out on michael’s desk. “supreme archangel, and they’re still keeping secrets from you, huh?”

aziraphale would appreciate it if crowley would refrain from certain reminders. “yes, that’s it.” he looks around the pillar he’s taken to leaning against, waiting for the inevitable repercussion of being caught in the act. his suit is newer, sharper, grayer, but at this rate, all the worrying his thumbs have been doing to the fabric of the jacket is bound to have him looking his normal self. he supposes crowley sees something similarly foreign whenever he looks at him.

“wait, these are—”

“i know.”

crowley’s frown deepens as he rummages through the papers and documents and photos that aziraphale spent so long staring at, debating if coming back to beg crowley for help was worth the knife wounding his pride, and whether crowley would simply twist it instead and tell him to fuck off.

(he did, at first.)

too many things on the tip of his tongue—another apology, a frustrated yell, the heavy memory of crowley.

“you were right,” he settles with a sigh.

the demon pauses, considers him, then closes the vanilla folder, dragging the projected holograms back into the file. aziraphale braces for an “i told you so” or the self-deprecating laughter that’s made an increased appearance in wake of his leaving. the damn sunglasses render his expression unreadable, a book aziraphale regarded himself as an expert on, but now he isn’t so sure he’d ever gotten the words right to begin with.

then crowley is smiling at him. no sneer, no malice. crowley’s smile is small, two parts sad and muted expectations, and aziraphale feels like he’s being offered something important, more than a title, more than a job, more than the opportunity to fix the unfixable, though he certainly tried, and he’ll be damned before he lets it go. it’s still angry, but it’s so much realer than anything aziraphale has felt up here for months, and aziraphale knows. he knows they need to talk, and even if they’re just as irreparable as heaven and the whole system, he knows which one he’ll be devoted to mending.

“can i get that in dance form?”

and suddenly aziraphale knows what it is to soar without wings.

he doesn’t get the chance to respond before michael’s approaching voice sends him into a panic. aziraphale hopes the click of heels on white porcelain tile will drown out the sound of their own shuffling as he lunges for crowley, who just manages to grab the file they came for, and pulls him around the pillar.

there aren’t many good hiding places in heaven. why would there be? it’s supposed to reflect truth and dispel lies. the good thing about being an archangel, however, is the ability to alter heaven’s layout, although minutely. you want a desk? there. you want to lengthen the hallway from uriel’s office to yours? done. you want a slightly darker corridor leading into the wall a few feet to the left of michael’s desk? aziraphale does.

he almost shushes crowley’s quiet yelp of surprise when he frantically presses the demon into the alcove out of sight, and aziraphale feels the punched-out exhale more than he actually hears it.

it’s deja vu. they’re back in tadfield manor except crowley’s holding a folder containing plans for judgment day trapped between them, and aziraphale’s the one with his hands clutching lapels like they might leave with another stinging don’t bother. the moment is dangerously loaded because fuck, aziraphale has no idea where crowley’s sunglasses got thrown in his haste, and crowley’s looking at him, really looking at him, without dark lenses to hide the way his eyes flicker down or the split-second fear that flashes across them.

aziraphale is crushing their chests together, and crowley is caving under him, and jesus isn’t here yet, but there wouldn’t have been room for him anyway.

“angel,” crowley breathes, and aziraphale knows it’s a slip of the tongue because crowley hasn’t called him that since they last parted ways.

aziraphale’s mind is a constant loop of yellow, yellow, yellow, and it takes every ounce of remaining self-control in his body not to lean forward and do what he should’ve done months ago. he doesn’t have quite enough left to pull back though, so he’s stuck on the verge of never knowing how to ask for what he wants, always too good at backtracking for their own safety, afraid to do it now because he really thought last time was the last time, and he doesn’t know if crowley can take another rejection.

aziraphale doesn’t know if he can either.

any sound of michael has disappeared.

aziraphale reckons this is the part where he’s supposed to say something like, “i’m not nice. nice is a four-letter word.” aziraphale reckons crowley might even agree with him. he doesn’t feel nice; all these millennia of you go too fast for me, crowley, and i don’t even like you.

their noses bump as crowley shifts his head. “aziraphale,” he says. it makes the angel want to cry. “‘s alright.”

so crowley’s catching the bullet this time, and that’s all it takes for aziraphale’s grip to loosen. he steps back—all too familiar a motion—and watches the demon smooth himself out.

“crowley, i—”

“nah,” he interrupts, waving the file in his hands. “talk later, remember?”

aziraphale relaxes, wonders what miracle gave him this and who performed it, wonders which stars aligned and whether crowley knew about them. the angel nods.

neither speaks again until the elevator doors are closing and the angel disguise has fallen away.

crowley, in all of his too-tight pants and infinite patience, doesn’t even look at aziraphale when he says, “dance later, too.”

[arlakos]

The High Road: A counterpoint to one of the most commonly used Salt Takes for Adrien.

This isn't really a salt fic idea, but since we are on the topic of salt on this blog, I'd like to take a moment to talk about a scene that has largely been used out of contex ever since Chameleon came out, and that is the infamous high road scene that has since been used to death for every Adrien salt story

For those who are unaware of this scene (or perhaps are unfamiliar with the canon version), in the episode Chameleon of Sesason 3, Marinette is about to go expose a plot hole in one of Lila's many fabrications, only for Adrien to stop her by stating that it won't change Lila for the better (Full Transcript Below). Keep this transcript in mind because I'll be referencing it a lot.

Now, this scene doesn't seem like something to be mad over, but the the whole episode of Chameleon has twisted a lot of people's perceptions of certain characters for the worse. This particular scene just happens to be one that changed people's pereceptions of Adrien.

However, I think its actually somewhat unjustified. I feel that in many ways, Chameleon as a whole has been misrepresented for what changes it has actually brought into the show, and I feel that it's easy to take a lot of moments in the episode out of context, especially when emotions come into play. The episode transcript actually happened to be leaked before it was supposed to be relased, so a lot of people already made up their minds about what this episode was about before it was released. It's easy to hate on this episode when you're friends in discord have watched it before you and have started to shout buzzwords such as "The class betrayed Marinette!" or "Adrien is a monster!", etc etc. I would know, since that was how I found out about the episode in the first place, and watching it for the first time didn't change my initial perceptions.

Today, I would like to take a moment to take the infamous high road scene and talk about what it meant for the salty portion of the fandom, before taking a metaphoically sledgehammer and slamming some misconceptions about Adrien from the perspective of salty people. Sure, they're other scenes that could be looked at, but since every salt fic tends to reuse this plot point, I feel it deserves its own deconstruction.

1. The High-Road scene is proof that Adrien is an asshole!

Now this statement is a bit of a buzzword since the actual reasons for people disliking this scene can vary, but to be fair, the reaction to this scene is also more nuanced as well.

In truth, a lot of people already had issues with Adrien/Chat Noir as a whole (for reasons that I won't elaborate here since it would be worth its own post), but this scene seemed to open the floodgates with hatred for our secondary protagonist out of his percieved inaction, since many people now had dislike for Adrien, while those who hated him prior were more than happy to provide fuel for the fire. After the episode was released, these ideas began to merge together, resulting in this belief that Adrien has always been an asshole, and that the Chameleon scene was simply the final straw, and that if the show was written by a good writer (read: anyone who hated the episode), Marinette would actually ditch his ass!

Now, its debatable on whether Adrien had writing issues prior to this point, but I feel that using this scene to justify hatred for him is outright slander for several reasons:

First of all, Adrien never suggested for Marinette to take the high road if we are being logistical about it. He only complimented her on that regard, telling her she did a good job for "taking the high road", and that was after he sat next to her to show he was by her side.

His actual message to Marinette was that it wasn't worth it to try expose Lila at that moment (and to be fair, it wouldn't have worked, more on that later though) because all it would do is make her double down on her behavior. Plus, trying to expose her in front of everyone would just hurt Lila more than help everyone else, which is, if anything, not untrue.

Overall, the advice Adrien gave to Marinette was not meant out of a desire to hurt anyone (least of all Marinette), but was out of a genuine desire to help resolve a situation and prevent Marinette from doing something that would not have helped the situation. Even if he does have other character flaws, this situation was by no means a reason to villainize him for it.

2. Adrien prefers Lila over Marinette, thats why he told the latter to take the high road!

Again, another idea that is found in fanfics, but is ultimately untrue in canon.

While Adrien doesn't believe Lila at all from the beginning of the episode, he isn't exactly just letting Lila's actions slide either; his stance comes from that of believing that Lila being decietful will do nothing to actually help her make friends. However, rather than confronting her angrily like Marinette does, Adrien instead tries to be friendly with her and try offer Lila some advice to try and change, albiet to no avail.

Now, some people might argue that Lila doesn't deserve kindness considering her threat to Marinette just moments ago, but it should be also stated that Adrien knows NOTHING about this: as far as he's aware, Lila is a transfer student looking to make friends, but has a wrong way of doing so (so in a way, she's not unlike him, from his POV at least), so he's just trying to help her, rather than attempt to force her out in the open.

(Quick tibit though, if Adrien knew what Lila did to Marinette, he would probably be more inclined to help her and protect his friends, given that he was willing to 'sacrifice' himself to get Marinette un-expelled in the Ladybug episode)

By the end of the episode Adrien is obviously dissapointed in Lila continuing to act the way that she is, but ultimately refuses to sink to Lila's level in order to teach her a lesson. As childish as it is (and it should be considering Adrien is a TEEN) Adrien believes that Lila's deceptions will ultimately come back to bite her (Adrien even tells her this himself, see below.), but trying to expose her in front of everyone else will do more harm to Lila than it will help others, hence his methods of speaking to her privately about it.

3. Adrien's reasoning is horrible and stupid! He deserves to pay for it!

This reasoning is the one I find the most dissapointing, partly because it inspired The Karma of Lies story (Written by CartoonAddict564), and also because while Adrien's reasoning can come off as naive, it is by no means stupid, nor should he have to suffer for having a different viewpoint for Marinette. But to understand, you need to think of Adrien in terms of his character.

Adrien is not just a celebrity, but also a child with a very controlling father, who pretty much controls and manages his day to day life with the help of his secretary. As a result of his popularity, Adrien has to be very careful with what he says or does, not only because it would reflect poorly onto his father's company, but it would also force his father to step in. As the Collector has shown, Adrien being able to even LEAVE the home is something that could easily be revoked at any time, and being Cat Noir has only loosened the bars on his cell, not remove them completely. Adrien has very little to gain by confronting Lila, but everything to lose, which is in direct contrast to Marinette having everything to lose by letting Lila walk by.

So in the face of all that, plus the situation he is in now, why would he not act passive and provide advice to try mitigate conflict rather than escalate it?

Now whether or not that should be seen as selfish is debatable, it's ultimately not out of character for Adrien to try and provide more passive options to deal with Lila rather than go for the most violent option. You could even argue that Adrien's actions are also out kindness to Marinette, since (in his eyes at least) it could get her in trouble with her own parents if they try and confront Lila violently.

At worst, Adrien's passiveness is a result of his controlled upbringing. At best? He was just trying to help without causing conflict.

4. Adrien shouldn't have stopped Marinette from confronting Lila!

.... im sorry to say this, but yes he absolutely should have.

Marinette was about to confront Lila over which ear her supposed tinnitus was in. Aside from the fact trying to expose her on this alone would not have worked, this would have just resulted in Marinette becoming more estranged from her classmates in this situation. If Marinette should have confronted Lila about her lying, this was DEFINTELY NOT the way to do it.

This isn't to say that Marinette could not have confronted Lila, but this moment simply was not it. There were better alternatives to Marinette that she could employ in the future had she thought of doing so (such as coming to Alya as Ladybug and revealing that her frienship with Lila is a lie), or carrying a voice recorder to record any threats made by Lila.

As uncathartic as the situation was, from a writing standpoint Adrien's inteference ultimately helped Marinette keep her friendships in the long run, while avoiding making a fool of herself with a battle she simply could not win.

5. It's Adrien's fault that Marinette didn't go after Lila! Marinette would have been better if she brushed him off!

This sounds crazy, but this is a genuine point that people seem to mention when it comes to their reasons for writing salt fics. Even if Adrien's attempts to dissaude Marinette were out of concern rather than malice, people still condemn Adrien for pushing Marinette off that path of going after Lila. In their eyes, Marinette didn't get her immediate revenge for what Lila did, and Lila herself was allowed to continue manipulating the class. All of this becomes Adrien's fault by virtue of being the one to deny this from happening, denying the fans their catharsis.

However, the question I ask it that for all the blame they give to Adrien in this situation ... how come nobody blames Marinette at all for the same thing?

See, despite people argue that Adrien manipulated Marinette into not going after Lila, Marinette isn't necassarily gullible or stupid. If Marinette really thought that Lila was a threat worth going after, she could and would have easily found a way to take Lila down and get her removed, with or without Adrien's support (given she made a similar plan in season 5 for when Gabriel tried to get the Kwamis to lead him to Marinette). She wouldn't even need a miraculous to do so given she can make plans without transforming, and most of Lila's lies aren't particularly smart, they just can't be immediately discredited without proof.

And it can't even be argued that Adrien took advantage of Marinette's love for him (whether intentionally or not). Marinette has shown that even though she does value her friends, she doesn't need to rely on the validation of others to do whatever she feels is right (given that she argued against Alya and others in Risk when it came to their belief that Adrien was fine, even though she was partly amped by an akuma at the time). And if Marinette did think that Adrien was wrong, she probably wouldn't have continued to crush on him anymore.

Also its kind of lowkey sexist? Like, Marinette can probably make her own decisions, she doesn't need someone to dictate her own actions given she's the leader of a superhero team?

Ultimately, Marinette made the choice not to go after Lila. Perhaps she thought that Lila wasn't worth it. Maybe she thought that taking down Lila wasn't worth the time and stress. Maybe she ended up agreeing with Adrien and thought that Lila would expose herself sooner rather than later with her own deceptions. Either way, Marinette can make her own decisions, and she ultimately thought that going after Lila was not a good idea, for whatever reason.

Now, some people might be upset about this idea that Marinette is to blame, but people can't just play the blame game and expect their target to lose. It would honestly be preferrable to say that both Adrien and Marinette made a decision that (for better or worse) thought was good at the time and that neither should be judged for it, but the fandom doesn't seem to care for that because that means their salt fics would be invalid.

Thus, since people want to blame Adrien for apparently "manipulating" Marinette, Marinette should get equal blame for allowing herself to be manipulated by Adrien. Sucks to hear it, but since nobody calls out Marinette on her shit, I might as well be the first. Sorry if it triggers you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

So ... what does this all mean?

It means that my boy Adrien is innocent.

He meant no harm by suggesting that Marinette not go after Lila, nor did he do it because he took Lila's side over Marinette's. At best, he was unaware of how evil Lila was and thought she was misunderstood, and at worse he defaulted to using the same ideas that he uses to protect what limited freedoms he had, and offered it to Marinette as geunine advice. Marinette isn't a pushover either, meaning that not only did she also think what Adrien said was a good idea, but the fandom is inadvertently being sexist by implying she can't be independent and can't make her own decisions, given that she's shown her own independence multiple times. At best, both characters made a dumb decision that they thought was good, but neither can be soley responsible.

Ultimately, Chameleon was an episode that gave Adrien (and whoever else was targeted) a bad rep due to the kneejerk reaction everyone had to the episode due to Lila's lies, myself included. In truth, nothing of what happened in the episode had any actual long term effects, since Marinette still kept her friends and Lila didn't end up playing any major role for nearly 2 seasons, at least until season 5 finally got rid of 'Lila' and set up 'Cerise' to be the new Butterfly villain.

It took me a long while to put this belief into words, and it may be 2 seasons too late, but at least I can upload it now knowing that this truth could possible be shared with the world. Maybe it will stop the excess of salt fics in the world, and allow for new salt free works to be made. Who knows?

Anyways, I hope you found this to be an interesting read as I had writing it!

[velvet-vox]

The russian worker drones family; murder drone's greatest small scale tragedy.

As long as I can recall there has never been in my mind a story quite as painful and heartbreaking and yet quite as engaging as the tragedy of Doll, Yeva, and her husband, who's lack of a clear name doesn't detract from the impact of this story or the death of the other two.

The last time such an emotional impact was left in my brain was with Noximilliem Coxen the Watchmaker from Wakfu, who I will assuredly make a comparison post with Doll, as they both hit extremely similar themes and ideas while still having such different execution and story beats that it almost makes you question why would you even compare them in the first place.

Tragedy is deceptively hard to write right and make meaningful, as just crippling your characters won't do, because at that point it just becomes drama porn and as boring as a low effort pre-schoolers program. Seemingly unfeasible in a show such as Murder Drones; an horror/comedy/romance where an abused child repaired and made friends with a robot only for said robot to cause the destruction of her planet and... something else.

Buckle up cause these robots emotions might not even be considered real inside the fictional setting but our pain allows what would otherwise be a pretty standard horror scenario to transcend into the bane of my existence as we take a look at the small, inconsequential tale of the russian worker drones family.

Yeva

Starting off with Yeva as the oldest member of our family in terms of chronological relevance, we get our first peek into the way this story plays out due to Yeva being seemingly mute by choice or programming, which retroactively sets up the storytelling method used; Yeva doesn't speak a single word in this scene or the one that precedes it, but we still get a clear rendition of her character by her standoffish behaviour juxtaposed with her caring and nurturing nature, it's debatable whether or not her and Nori are sisters, but you wouldn't be blamed for thinking that judging by the way Yeva tends to Nori after the banishment of the solver, being chained up and experimented upon didn't stop her from staying positive in the midst of adversity and could theoretically be the reason why she was the only correctly patched drone in the facility.

During the V attack she sacrificed her own life in order to protect Doll. An act that, in the long run, ended up being whortless, but that cemented Yeva has an unyielding positive influence in a world stormed by negativity and death.

The father

We know jack s##t about this man but that won't stop us from analysing him. The most interesting things about him are his relationship with Yeva and the fact that the picture of V seen in episode 2 was made by him. He's, admittedly, a white canvas for head cannons, but thematically he keeps a recurring motif that this post will touch upon in his final entry:

Doll

And now, for the crown jewel of this family. The protagonist's dark reflection. Not many people can claim to have been messed up as hard as Doll was. Sure, death is still death, but with it comes a certain sense of finality and rest. Instead, by contrast Doll's death is so brutal and devastating because although it's something that she has been calling upon herself since she started to consume other drones for her goals, it's just so heartbreaking because she managed to achieve absolutely nothing despite being one step forward everyone else in the story; she never got better, never reademned herself, made their parents sacrifice worthless, died almost entirely off camera completely alone and scared, and as her last compensation act she managed to give Uzi a barely useful warning before having her probably still alive consciousness eaten by an eldritch atrocity. At the end of the day, she was deemed worthless by the main antagonist and quickly brushed aside.

And we go back to a certain reoccurring theme regarding this family: Yeva never speaks. Her husband is never given a name. Doll is literally a toy name. Their story plays out in the shadow of the main plot. Every single aspect regarding them paints their existence as worthless and inconsequential (classic eldritch horror), yet are given enough spotlight to leave an impact on us, to have their presence felt, and to give us the impression that, despite their bad luck, if they only took certain decisions in certain key moments, maybe they would have survived and received a much better ending than the one they got.

Want more?

[woso-dreamzzz]

Big Adventures Thoughts

So, my fics were pretty short tonight because I was stuck on a coach for six hours and couldn't write much but I do have some random Big Adventures thoughts that may or may not make it into fics at some point but I'm just going to share them all with you now 😊

I've mentioned it very briefly in an ask before but when Princesse was very young she spoke Swedish with a slight Danish accent and Magda hated it. It faded after she started living with Magda but it's always funny to Pernille whenever anyone brings it up

It's not been used a lot but moster Frido is a big part of Princesse's life. This is coming in a fic soon but after the doctors and Magda and Pernille, she's actually the next person to hold Princesse and she's the one that brings her girl-swan and girl-moose when she's a baby. Princesse adores her in the way all young girls idolise their older, female relatives and Frido's definitely the one she turns to when she's older and doesn't want to talk to her mums about certain things

Magda feels a bit inadequate sometimes (particularly early on) when she finds out just how easy Pernille and Princesse work together on things and it's a pretty steep learning curve for her but she adapts pretty quickly

Every shirt Princesse gets when she's younger, she wears to bed the night she gets it. Some shirts (like Leah's) she hoards for weeks before letting them get washed and framed if she thinks they're special enough

Princesse is deathly allergic to kiwi, banana and avocado but only slightly allergic to latex

Sometimes on the bus to away games, Princesse curls up on Jessie's lap and naps with her. Pernille has a whole photo album of pictures of Jessie and Princesse napping

The gloves that Zećira gives Princesse after the match against the USA, Princesse keeps. It becomes a bit of a superstition but before every match, she puts them on and then takes them off to put on her own gloves because she wants Zećira's good luck from that game to rub off on her

Princesse is absolutely a prodigy at keeping. Magda and Pernille debate sometimes whether there must be some kind of keeper dna in the donor they chose (because it certainly didn't come from Magda's) or whether or not it was the near hero worship Princesse has for Zećira that made her want to prove herself

Princesse's schooling ends up being a bit all over the place. She only starts school when they all move back to Germany and she only really goes in a few times a week because Magda and Pernille's schedules can be erratic sometimes and it's a bit easier to home-school her (and because of the slight separation anxiety Magda develops but will forever deny). When Magda and Pernille retire and they end up in Sweden, Princesse's time is taken up by academy training and then when she hits fifteen, professional training so she ends up taking online school

I think I've mentioned this as well but Princesse never lets in a penalty her entire career and it makes other players all the more nervous during penalty shootouts at major tournaments because she continually blocks them. It becomes kind of a thing that commentators at matches talk about in the 'is this the day someone finally scores a penalty against her' kind of way

Like Magda did, Princesse gives away her World Cup medals but this time to Magda and Pernille rather than a child of her own

Almost all of Princesse's World Cup jerseys get given away to players from her childhood (if and when she defeats their teams) while the others go to Magda and Pernille

For club football, Princesse has her first name on her back but for every international match, it's her last name

Princesse feels awkward getting praise sometimes from people that aren't her mothers which is something that carries into adulthood so, at award shows and such things, she always brings them with her because it makes her feel less awkward

Speaking of award shows, Princesse is presented with awards by both Mary Earps when she grows up along with Alexia and Aitana

[avinwrites]

Glimmers of Gratitude || Norton x reader

Synopsis: You've become close with Norton Campbell despite his erratic behavior. On a particularly bad day, you have something that cheers him up!

Norton… scares you a little bit. He always has this distant, unpleasant look on his face, and while he isn’t directly mean to anyone, he seems annoyed at all times. Despite this, you’ve had good conversations with him. Mostly just pleasantries that happen to evolve into real discussions, such as asking him how his day has been and you end up talking about good and bad experiences for what feels like hours. You naturally get along with him, and you can both appreciate that. Occasionally, he’ll become distant towards you, almost out of nowhere. His temper is somewhat unpredictable, but you make it through with some effort on your part. Right now, however, he seems to be in one of his moods. 

He hasn’t talked to you all morning. Even when you waved, sat next to him, asked him how he slept, nothing. You were going to keep at it, you get the feeling that he’s having a rough time and you want to help him through it, but you had to participate in a match. During this match, thankfully, you were left alone to decode. While moving from one cipher to another, you caught something shining on the ground, a very interesting looking rock. When you first pick it up, it’s unassuming, like a normal rock, but once you shine it in the light, you see specks of gold and green and yellow, that just leave you in awe. It reminds you of a certain pair of eyes.

When you get back from that match, without thinking, you go to knock on his door, eager to show him the acquisition you are oh so proud of. It takes him a long time to answer the door after you knock, so long that you think he’s elsewhere, but, slowly, the door creaks open to reveal Norton with horrid posture and eye bags as dark as his mental state. You look from his face to behind him for a short moment, debating with yourself whether or not to leave him alone, but you really can’t stand to see him in this kind of shape, and your will to make him feel better overpowers your dread of making him feel worse. You stand there, silent for an uncomfortable period of time. 

“I wanted to ask you a question, but I get it if you aren’t in the mood to talk.” You start, having difficulty making eye contact with him.

Wordlessly, he opens his door wider to invite you in, shrugging in the process. From your pocket, you fish out the small, unassuming rock you found earlier, taking his hand and placing it gently on his palm. 

“Look.” You tell him, shining a light on the rock to show him the dazzling sparkles deep within it. He watches with you, paying close attention as you show him all the interesting spots you found.

“You had a question?” He finally responds, whilst taking a closer look at your finding.

“Oh, right, I was going to ask you if you knew what it was.”

“Looks to me like Bornite.” He says, matter-of-factly. You weren’t expecting the quick answer. You watch as he closely inspects the mineral and continues. “It’s commonly found in copper mines, but it's not a rare ore. I used to see it a lot…” He trails off, lost in his thoughts once again.

You take a deep breath before taking his hands in yours. You’re determined to boost his spirits at least a little.

“I saw the gold and the green, and the way that it seemed to shine… the first thing that came to my mind was your eyes. Seeing them next to the rock… your eyes are prettier.” You pause before your attempt at flirtation, not knowing how he’ll take it. 

At first, the silence was deafening. You feel like you just made a horrible mistake, like you had poked the ever-volatile bear, but after what felt like a long time, only a few seconds in reality, you notice the beginnings of a bright red spread across his face. He’s stunned. Then, he does the unexpected. He smiles at you. 

“Thanks.” That soft grin widens slightly. His singular word seems to have more application than just one. As if to say: thanks for the compliment, thanks for the gift, thank you for noticing me, and thank you for your comfort.

“Anytime.” You reply with a smile of your own, reciprocating each appreciation with an acknowledgement of your own. 

Maybe you could have said more; maybe you should have. But for now, just being in his presence, both smiling and happy, is enough. There would be plenty of time and opportunity to talk further, but right now, words aren’t needed when you can see his eyes, sparkling just for you.

[acourtofthought]

@starsreminisce posted these comments on their blog:

And the last paragraph really stood out to me.

Something I've seen said by a certain side of the fandom is that a bonus chapter should not change the trajectory of what is in the actual book. I disagree with that because I look at the bonus chapters as a sneak peek of what's to come in future books (with this particular bonus following the pattern talked about in a post yesterday, with the resolution to the small story pointing us in the direction of Gwynriel), things that Sarah will at a later point expound on within the actual series even if they weren't initially clear to us without having read the bonus.

But say that's the truth, say the bonus chapters are only in line with that which we already know (which still works for Gwynriel because though the bonus hinted at Gwyn having a curiosity towards Az and him possibly having a bond with her, we do see bits of that in the actual book as well, there are scenes with her staring in his direction and scenes where he's staring in hers, where he shows admiration for her, where she's teasing him, where Nesta calls Az her new ribbon).

One of the big arguments is that it's extremely clear that Elain has no interest in Lucien, that it's been the case for multiple books. It's said Elain does not owe Lucien an explanation, that she does not owe him her time or attention.

So why not write an Elain bonus chapter in SF where she and Lucien have a conversation discussing how they don't want to explore their bond? According to E/riels there's no need for it in the first place since she's made herself clear but they have also claimed that she won't break the bond until we have her POV. Then wouldn't a bonus in Elain's POV before her book be the perfect place for something that's so obvious so that when she starts her own book "with Az", there's nothing standing in their way and the focus can be on their romance and the plot and not the emotional toll that her severing her bond with Lucien would take? If the Elucien bond is as much of a non issue as some claim it be be, then why not deal with it in an Elain Bonus Chapter? When her book starts, Sarah could even recap the events of the bonus for those who had missed it.

Elain thought back to that conversation she and Lucien shared shortly after Solstice. Where after Azriel's rejection, which had cut her deeply, she realized there was no place in her heart for anyone but Az even if she wasn't sure he still wanted her.

That would have actually be a perfect way for SJM to move us past the Elucien bond with very little in the way of feeling devastated on Lucien's behalf, where his heart is not being broken in real time within her romantic arc.

But the author didn't do that. She gave Az and FEYRE a POV. Feyre who already had 3 books and a novella and Elain with a total of 0.

We know Az doesn't think Lucien is good enough for Elain but we don't know if Elain agrees with that.

We know Az questioned the Cauldron because of his brothers and her sisters, that he hadn't thought of being with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies but we don't know where Elain stands on the whole "just wants one taste / why wasn't Az made my mate" debate.

We know Az thought of Elain as too trusting and hopeful but we've no clue whether Elain was really thinking anything of the sort.

We've got Feyre thinking back on how she made sure to keep her mouth shut on Elain not wearing Lucien's gloves, how had she put them on she would have never been pierced in the first place but we still don't know whether Elain's actions with the gloves actually line up with her thoughts.

If Sarah wanted to continue on with what is apparently so evident in the four books of buildup for E/riel there was nothing preventing her from finally giving us Elain's POV in SF and having her tell Lucien that there's no reason for him to hold out hope any longer.

The more likely explanation for why Elain wasn't given a bonus is because everything that E/riels and Az claim that is so very obvious regarding Elain's character might actually not be as obvious as they think.

If she's so happy in the NC, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so in love with Az, that it's clear as day, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so disinterested in Lucien, then why hide her thoughts?

If we're supposed to believe that Elain's choice is Az, that there is no competition and that it should not be a mystery to anyone at this point, then why has she been so reticent to put us into Elain's head?

[hami-gua]

生生世世

Love between an immortal and mortal is forbidden by the heavenly law. By loving a mortal, the immortal pays a price. Dan Heng, rather, his past incarnations are no exceptions to this law.

This work contains both English and Chinese (translation provided). Apologies in advance if the Chinese dialogues aren't great. Something may be incorrect or inaccurate, all for the sake of the plot.

Reader has a given nickname and last name but not first name.

[This work is also on AO3 and more polished there, as it is in chapter format.]

Dan Heng x f! Reader

A man approaches the altar that held a glowing stone. Confused, he turned to another man beside him.

“What is this?”

“This is a stone that held your memories from your previous two lives.”

“And why do you insist that I use it?”

“I believe it’s time you find out yourself, Dan Heng.”

The man, Dan Heng, looked at his “partner” with an eyebrow raised. Trusting him, Dan Heng reaches out to the stone and picks it up. After a few seconds, he begins to feel an oncoming headache and steadies himself on the altar. Yet the effort is deemed futile as he soon blacks out.

The first time he met her in this life, was when he assumed a name, Yubie. She had been selling flowers, calling out to any and all souls that happened to pass by. A certain flower had caught Yubie’s attention. Being a minor god living in the moon palace, he had never seen such a flower before. And before he knew it, he had picked up the flower and began to inspect it.

“先生，您看上了这朵花了吗？“ [Sir, is this the flower you choose?]

Yubie, a tad embarrassed and shy, merely nodded. The girl only smiled back gently, the gentle dulled pinks and purples of her robe brushed against the cart as she reached for others of the same kind, bundling them and checking the pot they were held in.

“先生若有什么需求，可以叫我一声！“ [If sir has any needs, you only need to call me!]

“嗯，知道了。谢谢，姑娘。” [En. Understood. Thank you, young girl.]

“哎呀，应该的！” [Aiya, it’s what I should do!]

Yubie blushed as his eyes grazed through the other different flowers. His eyes lands on a peony, leading him to think about Jing Yuan. The general hardly ever visits the moon palace anymore, but when he does, it’s always a pleasant surprise. He’s due to visit soon, but Yubie couldn’t think of a gift to give. Picking up the flower, Yubie calls for the flower girl.

“就这两个，谢谢。“ [Just these two, thanks.] Yubie cleared his throat awkwardly, handing the two flowers to the girl.

“一颗银子。“ [One piece of silver.]

Yubie’s eyebrows raised in surprise, having not expected the price.

“一颗？为何要怎么少？“ [A piece? Why do you ask for that less?]

The girl replied back without even a thought, “因为不管有多少钱，想要有花就可以有花。再说了，卖花只是我的爱好。“ [Because it doesn’t matter how much money you have, if a flower is what you want, then you get a flower. Besides, selling flowers is just a hobby I have.]

“爱好？“ [Hobby?]

“嗯！“ [Yeah!]

“什么是爱好？“ [What’s a hobby?]

The girl’s jaws drop open. Never had she ever heard of someone not knowing what a hobby is.

“爱好就是喜欢做什么就做。比如，有些人喜欢看书，唱歌等。您呢？“ [A hobby is something you like to do. Like, some people like reading, others singing and so on. You?]

“我。。。我没有，“ [I… I don’t have one.] Yubie trailed off, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“啊？！真假的？像您这样的人，没有爱好还挺乖的嘞！“ [Ah?! Really? Those like you not having a hobby is quite odd!]

“像我这样的人？“ [Those like me?]

“嗯！就是有钱的人。“ [Yeah! Like wealthy.]

“哦。。。“ [Oh…]

Learning of selling flowers as a hobby, he debated whether or not to ask about her true line of work. Deciding to just go for it, Yubie asks, “请问姑娘，您。。。是做什么的？“ [Young girl, what… do you do for a living?]

The girl looks at him for a split second before pulling out a find pressed silk threads that forms the shape of a flower. Orange blossoms to be exact.

“我是做各种各样的簪子。不过随着有些人的需求，其它头饰也可以。“ [I make all kinds of hair sticks. Though, through some customer’s needs, I can also make other head accessories.]

Yubie observes the hair stick, eyes glimmering at how well made it is. But their conversations is cut short when the distant bell tower chimes, signaling the time. The girl looks up and takes a note of the sun’s position with a gasp.

“抱歉先生，看来我该回家了,” [Sorry sir, it seems like I have to go home.] The girl quickly said as she rushes to pack everything up. Yubie could do nothing but awkwardly stand to the side, watching. As the girl began pulling the cart away, Yubie stops her.

“哪个，姑娘，您的名字。。。“ [Um，young girl. Your name…]

The girl turned towards him with a shy smile, “啊。。。我姓李，叫__。不过叫我棉棉就行啦！您呢？“ [Ah… Last name’s Li, first name __. But calling me Mian Mian will do! You?]

“雨别。“ [Yubie]

“雨别。。。好优雅。很适合您，” [Yubie… so elegant. It suits you.] the girl smiled, sending poor Yubie’s heart sputtering.

“实在是不好意思，雨先生。我真的得回家了。“ [So sorry, Yu sir. I really must get home.] The girl bowed before pulling her cart away as Yubie simply stood there, watching as her form got smaller and smaller. He too turns and leaves after.

————————————————————————————

The next time he sees her was when a village had been faced with a terrible fire. After saving her, he was told that the nation has been threatened by a foreign unknown source. Not a villager had a clue where they came from. But all describe the forces as wearing all black with specks of gold, almost like liquid gold.

“雨先生——“ [Yu sir—]

“雨别就行了。“ [Yubie will do.]

“雨别，他们是谁啊？我从没见过他们那样的人。“ [Yubie, who are they? I’ve never seen people like them before.]

Yubie was silent, unsure if he should tell her. Yet his consciousness ruled that if she doesn’t know, she’ll be more likely to run into trouble.

“他们不是人。“ [They aren’t human.]

The girl looked back at him, shocked.

“不是人？” [Not human?]

“按理说，他们原来是人。” [Logically speaking, they were human once.]

“原来。。。那发生了什么？他们现在为何不是人了呢？” [Originally… then what happened? Why aren’t they human now?]

“魔阴。” [Mara.]

“魔阴是什么？” [What’s mara.]

“一种能让人变成魔妖的病。” [A disease that turns humans into demonic beings.]

“怎么可怕！那我们该如何打败他们啊？” [That’s tarrying! Then how do we defeat them?]

Yubie smiles at her and reaches up to pat her head. The girl in turn didn’t seem to mind, rather, she leans into him. His arm then slowly lowers to her elbows as he tightened his hold around her.

“这是神仙们的战争。咱们就把这个留给他们吧。” [This is a battle for immortals and gods. We just leave these to them.]

The girl smiled, leaning further into Yubie. The two sat in silence, gazing out into the setting sun.

“雨别？“ [Yubie?]

“嗯？“ [Yeah?]

“你喜欢哪个神仙呀？“ [Who’s your favorite immortals and gods?]

Yubie sat there, unsure what to answer. Afraid that if he does, he’ll be giving his identity away.

“我不知道。喜欢的神仙们太多了，” [I don’t know. I like a lot of them.] He gave a half true answer, “你呢？“ [You?]

“饮月君！” [Imbibitor Lunae!]

Her answer took Yubie by surprise. Fighting an intense blush from rising, he looks at her, fully interested in her answer and yearns for a reason.

“你为何要选饮月君？“ [Why must you choose Imbibitor Lunae?] He asked, his heart beats erratically.

“他可是青龙。又聪明又疼人。再说，他是一条龙! 龙还挺可爱的呢。“ [He’s the green dragon. Smart and caring towards humans. And he’s a dragon! Dragons are quite cute.]

With every word she spoke, the redder Yubie’s face and ears became. After, the girl takes notice of his reddening ears and teasingly asks him, “诶呀，耳朵怎么都红啦？” [Aiya, why are your ears read?]

Yubie’s eyes began blinking rapidly as he quickly turns his head away from her. “难道。。。你。。。” [Could it be… you…] The girl trailed off, making Yubie panic as he started to believe that she’s going to figure out his true identity.

“你也很喜欢银月君！” [You also really like Imbibitor Lunae!]

Yubie breathed out a sigh of relief as he nodded shyly to her words. Safe for another day, he thought. And just like that, the two began telling each other of their past. Yubie, making his as vague as he can.

————————————————————————————————

The third time Yubie saw her, was also his last time seeing her. An intense battle had broken out within the nation. Phantylia and her forces made a move on the girl’s village. Anxiety gripped Yubie’s heart as he rushed there. Yet when he arrived, not a mara-struck soldier could be spotted. None that was living anyways.

Running through the street, he called out for any survivors. Not getting an answer, he sent his force to dig through rubble. He himself though, began running around, calling for the girl. Yet his call once again remains unanswered. It wasn’t until he was on the verge of giving up, did he see flowers scattered behind a particularly large rubble. Yubie’s heart picked up as he rushed behind it, only to have his hopes shattered when he saw the state the girl was in. Carefully, he picked her up and automatically felt the blood trickling onto his hand. Her chest had been pierced by a sword as her head had crashed onto something, leading her temple to bleed profusely.

Plip. Plop. Tears fell onto the girl’s cold skin as Yubie held onto her cold dead hands tightly. He cradles her close to him as he cried, his heart sinking in never-ending despair. ‘Is this what heart break feels like? I never got to tell her…‘

For all the light and hope she gave him, Yubie could only repay with a kiss to her forehead and a love confessed too late.

I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you soon enough.

The first time he met her in his next life was when he went by Dan Feng. She had entered the inn where he was at with attendants by her side. He was in the middle of a conversation with Yingxing when he heard a commotion at a table in the corner. It caught the pair’s attention as they both turned to see a man close to their age in appearance, harassing the girl. She continued drinking her tea as the man and her attendant argued.

“I’ll say, you need to properly teach your attendants!” The man snarled.

“Sir, do you not have manners?”

“You! How are you speaking to me huh?! I’m a young master! Young master!”

“Who cares if you’re a young master or not. You can’t even recognize her highness, so are you really a young master?”

“You!” The man raises a hand to hit the attendant.

Unable to watch or listen any further, Dan Feng gets out of his seat and walks towards the man.

“Enough!”

The man stops and glares at Dan Feng as the girl glances up from her cup.

“And who are you?!”

Dan Feng doesn’t answer him. Instead, he states, “You are aware that hitting any servant of a princess is strictly forbidden.”

The man scoffs once more before walking out of the inn. The attendant bows to him as he held her arms, telling her there was no need.

“感谢公子。“ [Thank you, childe.]

“不必。他刚才为何生气？” [No need. Why was he mad?]

The attendant looks at Dan Feng before looking at the girl then back to him again.

“Well…”

The attendant is cut off as the girl sets down her cup.

“他想追求我。我没同意。“ [He asked for my hand. I didn’t agree.]

The attendant looked at her shocked by her ease of language.

“公主！可不能怎么随意说出！万一。。。“ [Princess! You can’t just say that so casually! What if…]

The girl sighs as Yingxing approaches the group. She slowly stands with the help of her other attendants.

“It’s okay. At this time, long story short is the way to go. It saves time. Anyone can charge in at any given moment and attack.”

The girl faces Dan Feng properly before giving a slight bow, her head never once lowering.

“感谢公子帮了我。“ [Thank you for helping me, childe.]

“It is something I should do,” he bows back, head lowered.

The girl gives him a small smile before turning and leaving the inn with a small limp. Dan Feng watches her leave; a tug of familiarity was felt as Yingxing clears his throat.

“Why didn’t you ask for her name?”

Dan Feng shoots him a look, “人家是公主，不礼貌。“ [She’s a princess, it’s ill-mannered.]

Yingxing smirks in return, “人家是公主，我们是神。” [She’s a princess, we are gods.]

Dan Feng could only tsk as he whacks Yingxing’s arm while glancing around to ensure that no one heard.

“Are you trying to expose us?” He hissed.

A giggle from Yingxing was all Dan Feng got.

————————————————————————————————————

The next time he saw her was when he was invited to court. Or rather, Yingxing did and he decided to bring Dan Feng along. While Yingxing was locked in discussion with the emperor, Dan Feng wandered around the gardens as he heard a gentle zither playing. Following the sound, he finds the girl sitting at peace as her fingers plucked the silken strings. As if sensing him, she stops playing and turned towards his direction.

“何人？“ [Who is it?]

Dan Feng steps out from behind the bamboo trunk as he gracefully made his way towards her.

“Princess’ playing is rather elegant. It holds much clarity.”

The girl blushed before lowering her gaze to her zither as her hand gently runs up and down the strings.

“Why have you entered the palace today?”

“Ah, may princess forgive me. I came with a friend who is currently in a meeting with the emperor. I am not summoned; this I wander about.”

The girl merely smiles and invites him to tea as she played and chatted. And there it was, the feeling Dan Feng couldn’t shake off. That feeling of familiarity gnaws at his heart. Her eyes held that same mirth and her voice contains a much gentler lilt than he “remembers”. Sensing him spacing off, the girl asked, “Is there something wrong?”

Quickly trying to find an excuse, Dan Feng asked her, “Princess, what is your name?”

The girl smiled shyly before answering, “Li __. But those I know call me Mian Mian.”

’It’s that nickname again. Mian Mian.‘

“You asked for my name, so it is only fair I ask for yours.”

Dan Feng looks up at her with surprise, “Dan Feng.”

“Dan Feng… It’s an elegant name.”

“I — thank you, princess.”

The girl shifted, revealing a scarred leg. Her face briefly twists in pain noticed by Dan Feng. Seeing her leg, Dan Feng questioned her.

“What… happened to your leg.”

The girl places a hand on her leg, as if to cover it. She mulls over her words before saying, “It happened when I was young. An unwatched dog had gotten to me as I was playing. It bit me and wouldn’t let go until my sister had hit it with a branch while crying in fear. After investigating, my father found the dog belonged to a minister. The dog, turned out, bit more people. Mostly servants. So, every time they thought to tell, they were pressured by the minister to keep quiet. The minister wanted me gone so he could easily rise the ranks.”

“Why does he want you gone?”

“It probably has to do with me rejecting a marriage proposal.”

“With his son?”

The girl nodded.

“He wanted to ascend the ranks by having his son marry me. But I rejected the offer. His son is 15 years older, thus I can’t imagine the two of us spending a long life together.”

“Was your father upset at all?”

“No. He’s quite elated to be honest. Father was always eager to marry off his sons, but when it came to marrying off his daughters, he’s always the first to reject all suitors. At least, that’s what my brother tells me.”

“What became of the minister?”

“He was banished. Simple as that.”

“At least you’re safe now.”

The girl huffed, “This is a court. I only happen to live here. So how safe can it be?”

Dan Feng looked at her confused. Not fully grasping what she meant.

Months goes by. Dan Feng exchanges letter with the girl regularly. It went from mundane to adventurous, to rants. Until one day, he received a letter asking him to arrive at court for a celebration. Her birthday, he thought. A problem quickly presented itself: the girl’s birthday is coming up, and Dan Feng had no clue what to gift her. Perhaps a pearl will do. But that’s too plain. How about a bracelet? But she plays a zither, the bracelet will only get in the way.

’“This is a court. I only happen to live here. So how safe can it be?”‘

Her words echoed in his mind. The girl wears hair sticks a lot, so surely a hair stick concealing a small blade will easily go undetected. He nodded to himself. Yes. Surely this will work.

When the day of celebration came about, Dan Feng nervously fidgeted with the box that held the hair stick. Yingxing noticed his friend’s unusual behavior and gently nudged him. “Why are you so nervous?”

“What if she won’t like it?”

Yingxing rolled his eyes, “I don’t know if you’re aware, but she’s not known for her openness. For her to write to you regularly means she sees you as someone close. Someone trustworthy.”

Dan Feng looks at him deadpanned, “说人话。” [Speak human language.]

"Point is, she'll like it. It did come frome someone she trusts."

Dan Feng relaxes a bit as people filed into the castle then stopped before the girl to give her their well wishes. And before he knew it, he found himself standing before the girl. There she sat, in finely woven robes as Dan Feng knelt and held out the box with two hands.

“This is a hair stick I have made myself,” he states as a servant takes the box and presents it to the girl. She gingerly runs a finger over the hair stick, admiring the intricate etches.

“I hope the hair stick serves you well, in times of need of protection.”

“Thank you, Dan Feng.”

He bows before taking his leave as his heart yearns to glance at her once more. The feast commences, with servants bringing up various kinds of food. Throughout the night, Dan Feng kept glancing at her, only to look away when she looks towards him. Yingxing kept teasing him as his face flushed. It wasn’t until the banquet concludes does Dan Feng pulls Yingxing aside, ensuring they aren’t followed or eavesdropped on.

“What? Why are we in a secluded corner?” Yingxing asked confused.

“Yingxing… I think… I—” Dan Feng pauses, finding words to continue on.

“You what? Come on spit it out! We need to leave before we become seen as suspicious!”

“I think I fancy Mian Mian,” Dan Feng said quickly as his gaze falls in embarrassment.

Yingxing’s eyes widen with shock. In his life of knowing Dan Feng, never had his friend been so forward. Without a word, Yingxing dragged Dan Feng with him as the two made their way towards their carriage. Upon lifting the veil, he ushers Dan Feng on before entering the carriage himself. Sitting down, Yingxing hissed, “别忘了，我们是神仙。“ [Don’t forget, we are gods.]

Dan Feng only nods as his eyebrows furrow with confusion. Yingxing sighs through his nose and rolled his eyes at his friend’s expression.

“We are gods. Immortals. We can’t love mortals in a romantic sense even if we wanted to. You know the punishment that will befall us if we are caught in a romantic relationship with a mortal.”

“But I’m not immortal. I die and reform a new.”

“Yes to immortals, you perish easily. But to mortals, you are immortal in every sense. You retain your immortal name and your power after rebirth. That to a mortal still are signs of immortality.”

Dan Feng looks away, finding no words to refute Yingxing’s. He knows the punishment better than anyone, a past incarnation having gone through forced rebirth after slaying denizens of abundance and sealing Phantylia — had been found to harbor romantic feelings for a mortal. All Dan Feng learned was the mortal had already died, and did a favor for the other gods, this his sentencing was only forced rebirth instead of stripping his status along with it.

“Then… what do I do, Yingxing?”

Yingxing sat back in thought before answering, “What you do is up to you. You can choose to distance yourself or continue as her friend and bury your feelings for her.”

Dan Feng only nods, gaze seemingly absent.

——————————————————————————————————

Two months passed as Dan Feng finds himself walking through the snow-covered winter grounds with the girl. The two chat amongst themselves as they slowly made their way towards the library. Both mentioned a liking towards the history and romantic literature. Finding his own collections low, he wrote to the girl, asking if he could read a few selections in the library, to which she agreed.

“藏书楼到了！” [We’ve arrived at the library!]

Before them stood a tall rounded tower with blackened roof and red columns with white walls. A style very reminiscent of the earlier century. Walking up to the two tall doors, the girl pushes it open with a huff as it slowly creaks open. The hall is silent, save for the clacking of the girl’s clogs and brushing of brocaded silks. The two went separate ways, browsing different scrolls and books then finding a place to sit as they read. The days passed like this until the girl had asked him to meet in the garden of her palace for supper.

As Dan Feng walked to her gate, it opened showing a young maid who took one look at him before inviting him in and leading him to the part of the garden where the girl waited. As he sat down, the girl spoke, “Have you heard? The denizens of abundance are on the move.” He looked at her with surprise.

“How long have you known about the denizens of abundance?”

“Ever since I turned 15. There was no way for people to not notice them any longer.”

Dan Feng remains silent, letting the girl rant.

“For as long as I have known, we’ve always been at war with the abundance. It’s carried on for hundreds of years now. When will it ever end?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a god, aren’t you?”

Her question stunned him. Not once did he mention anything about his association with the heavens, nor did he ever talk about what he does.

“How… how did you know?’

“Many things really. It’s not every day you see a middle-aged man locked in a deep conversation with a much younger man like they’ve known each other their whole life.”

“He’s not that old.”

“To you he’s not. But to me and many others, he is. And you never really told me what you do, yet you always seem to have money. You also are well read. More than your average wealthy person, and you know lots about art, as if you’ve spent centuries perfecting it. Not to mentions, you practically sleep where knowledge is kept. And don’t think I don’t see the look in your eyes when you gaze at the dragons at the library entrance.”

Dan Feng is silent for a moment before asking, “When did you find out?”

“Since the celebration on my birthday. No one is that brave enough to gift me a blade hidden in a hair stick. And again, to be able to afford pearls of that quality. If it wasn’t the threat of abundance, my father would definitely begin suspecting you.”

“And why does me being a god matter to you?” Dan Feng asked, his heart racing.

“Can’t you do something about it? Fight the abundance or a least gift us abilities to do so?”

“Even if I had the power, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have the power to command many forces. I’m a minor god of the moon, not for battle. Even then, if I was a god of war, I will still need permissions from the rulers and anyone else I answer to.”

The girl falls silent.

“So you’re saying, you can only defend yourself?”

Dan Feng nods.

————————————————————————————————

The last time he saw her in this life was witnessing her be poisoned.

The day had started like any other, he met with her while in the company of Yingxing. The three had made their way to the market. After eating and drifting from vendor to vendor, they returned with a request to a banquet from the emperor. It was going well. All the food were served as normal while all guests watched dances and plays until everyone heard intense coughing.

“Someone fetch the doctor! Quick! The fourth princess has been poisoned!” a maid screamed.

All hell broke loose at once. People ran as if trying to escape as few turned to mara-struck soldiers. Dan Feng pushed past the havoc as he sees the emperor trying to cut his way through the denizens. By the time Dan Feng got to her, she was already weak.

“Mian Mian!” He called out to her while cradling her close to him. ‘No… it’s happening again. Just like last time.’

“Dan… Feng…”

“Shh. I’m here, you’ll be okay.”

“这话。。。是对我说的？还是。。。还是对你自己说的？“ [Your words… Is it said towards me? Or… or is it said towards yourself?]

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t make it,” her hand moved towards her mid-section, where the hair stick he had gifted her, is embedded deeply into.

“Why?”

“I was given a choice. Either turn into them, or die. It’s obvious which I chose.”

Dan Feng’s hand enclosed over hers as tears streamed down his face.

“你的手好暖啊。。。丹枫，你能陪着我吗？我好困啊。“ [Your hands are so warm… Dan Feng, can you stay with me? I’m so tired.] She whispered weakly.

He nodded as he clutched her cold hands. With each passing second, she grows weaker and weaker until her eyes closed and her breathing stills. It happened once again… I lost her again. He looked around, trying to catch sight of familiar locks of white. Yet, all he saw were the bodies of others. The servants, the emperor, ministers. But not a shadow of his friend in sight. Lifting the girl’s cold body in to a bridle carry Dan Feng carefully made his way through the palace as he finally sees his friend tending to those in need.

“Yingxing.”

Hearing his friend calling for him, Yingxing turns to see Dan Feng carrying the girl. Others who saw the pair bowed until their heads touched the stone, some even crying.

“Dan Feng…”

“I need your help getting her to the central palace.”

“Are you crazy? She’s never cultivated like I have. If you take her there, you’ll be punished!”

“And I’m willing to face that punishment.”

“Why?”

“Yingxing, I don’t think I can carry on another life without her.”

“And if she doesn’t remember who you are?”

“I’m a selfish man. You know that.”

Yingxing sighs heavily, “Okay. I’ll help you. But if anything happens along the way, I want you to go straight ahead. Don’ bother saving me. Do you understand?”

Dan Feng nods.

“Go. Flee. All of you. This place is no longer safe,” Yingxing commanded.

Heeding his words, everyone quickly fled, never looking back. The two quickly makes their way to the Hall of Worship. And just like what Yingxing suspected, denizens of abundance are hot on their trail. As they were reaching the gates, more mara-struck appears, cutting them off their path. Seeing as they have nowhere to go, Yingxing turns to Dan Feng, “Fly there. I’ll hold them off.”

Dan Feng holds Yingxing’s gaze as the denizens began closing in.

“Thank you, Yingxing.”

He gives a court nod to Dan Feng as he takes flight in the direction of the Hall of Worship. Yingxing locked eyes with a mara-struck soldier as he raises his sword, ready to face his imminent death.

By the time Dan Feng arrived, the sun was starting to set. Not letting anymore time go to waste, he teleports both himself and the girl to the central palace, collapsing onto his knees upon landing. By seeing the pair’s arrival, everyone rushed to them in shock.

“Quickly! Send a force to the capitol! They’re under attack by denizens! Please!” He begged.

Jing Yuan glanced at the empress as she gave a nod. He turns and leaves quickly, the doors slamming shut behind him.

“And why have you brought a deceased mortal? Where is Yingxing?” The empress asked, her voice steady.

Dan Feng looked down towards the girl before back up at the empress.

“I have come to ask you to grant her a new life. An immortal one.”

“And why should I fulfill your request.”

Dan Feng swallowed his unease. Yet he was spared when the empress sighed through her nose and said, “You are aware of the price?”

Dan Feng nods eagerly, “As long as she lives, I am willing to pay any price.”

“The rules say your existence and future is to cease. However, seeing as Li __’s father took great care of her as best he could, I will merely strip you of your status and have you undergo rebirth. Now, tell me where Yingxing is.”

“He stayed behind to ensure I made it to the Hall of Worship, your majesty.” The hall falls silent as the empress gracefully stands up and walks up to Dan Feng’s kneeling form. Two maids quickly approach and bowed before them.

“Stand.”

Doing as she commanded, Dan Feng stands, carrying the girl’s body.

“Hand her over to the maids. They will start the process. She will be born a new, as an infant from the petals of an orange blossom. As for you. Best make your way to Scalegorge then. The two of you shall meet once more on the 15th day of the seventh month two decades from now.”

Blinking slowly, Dan Heng began to come to his senses. Looking around, he realizes that he’s in his own room. The familiar light turquoise quilt covering him snuggly. Carefully, he sat up as the doors to his room opens and in walks Jing Yuan.

“You’re awake!”

“What happened?”

“Right after you took the memory gem, you passed out.”

A sudden headache attacked Dan Heng as he held his head and groaned.

“Mian Mian!”

“Easy there. You’ve just recovered.”

“Remind me why you want me to regain my memories.”

“Tomorrow is the 15th. Her majesty thought it would be best if you used the memory gem before then.”

Dan Heng pulls his quilt away from him and stands with the help of Jing Yuan. He slowly hobbles to his table where warm food awaits him at. Picking up his chopsticks, he slowly begins to eat while listening to Jing Yuan ramble about his day.

The next day, Dan Heng began preparing to meet the girl he’s dreamt about. What if she doesn’t like my anymore? He thought. He shook his head and smacked his face as he began to make his way to the destination Jing Yuan told him. When he arrives, he sees a feminine figure looking up at the moon. She is draped in light purple and pink silks. Sleeves long and skirts that trails. A gentle cyan pibo floats freely. Her hair adorned with many hair sticks that holds a looped bun. A fitting appearance for a fairy.

Walking up to her, Dan Heng cleared his throat — startling the poor girl. She spun around to face him, and when their eyes met, he saw the glimmers in her eyes. The longer they gazed at one another, the faster Dan Heng’s heart beats.

“棉棉。“ [Mian Mian.]

She smiles as she approached him and hugged him.

“丹恒。” [Dan Heng.]

He smiled, returning her hug. She whispered gently to him:

“谢谢。” [Thank you.]

As the moon reached high up in the sky, the two who waited two lives, shared a kiss of love and longing.

In certain times in history, emperors of China cherished their daughters, thus always choosing another girl from outside the court to be a "princess" and marry them off.

My rendition of 西王母 comes from my own understanding of what writings and media portray her as. She's caring and forgiving.

I am also today's years old when I learned that Queen Mother and Jade Emperor are only co-workers not married.

Pibo [披帛] is a type of shawl worn with hanfu. Most depictions of immortals and gods use pibo in a way to how halos are used in the west.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This work was originally supposed to be titled 三生三世, but upon learning that it isn't actually an old saying, so I looked it up and found the two possible origins.

Beginning and ending dividers: nicodefresas

Middle dividers: fanguro

[idv-sunsxin3]

can i request a scenario with pavia, horropedia, and diggers saying i love you to them for the first time 👀👉👈

Horropedia, Pavia, Diggers // "I Love You."

Note// Yes, I finished writing this on April Fool's. And no, I don't feel like getting pranked, but I don't mind being booped by moots/ih😇✨️

___

"Y/N, come check this out!"

He was just about to talk to you more about the twin dolls he had on his gun at the moment he saw you enter the room. Noting the little details of their design, and even how he managed to make these mechanisms behave in such a complex manner of mischief to make them seem as unpredictable and intimidating to enemies.

He didn't expect you to suddenly say something much more intimate during one of these casual conversations you both usually share.

You were silently admiring the sight of his focused, intelligent eyes, the way his head tilts once in a while to inspect his work, and his incoherent mumbling to himself as if having some occasional internal debates. Until you blurted these words out.

"I love you."

His fingers halted for a bit once he heard you. His eyes stopped being fixed on his firearm to look at you. His features were notably shocked for a moment, yet it wasn't for long that they returned back to grinning once again. It isn't unsure whether it is because he's playing his cards again or not.

Nonetheless, his cheeks are lightly flustered with a soft hue. It could have been more noticeable if the lamp on his desk wasn't the only source of light in the dark room.

"I know." he replies calmly while throwing a sneaky look, "That’s very dangerous of you to say, though."

His observant eyes stare through yours as his face creeps closer to yours to the point your noses nearly touch. The statement indirectly reminds you of the several times he told you about how love stories tend to get disturbed by certain means of phenomenons, tragedies, and terrors caused by ruthless antagonists.

It is not often that lovers would end up happy together at the end of a horror movie. Sometimes, Horropedia would adapt these kinds of survival principles to real-life situations.

Yet even so, his hands find itself resting on yours. A strange sense of comfort sneaks through your skin by contact.

"It's bad for me... but I don't mind testing the waters with how long we can keep this up."

He interwines your fingers with his, as if they're meant to be that way... Just as the way your lips collide with his, the second he moved the last inch towards you.

______

"I love you."

You softly said it as you played with your lover's hands. You were talking about a sad day that happened to you with him. In the end, Diggers managed to cheer you up a bit with his words of affirmation.

"I fancy you more, darling."

He wasn't hesitant on replying sweetly, his eyes half-lidded and droopy, but his smile warmth as the sunrise. He rubs your cheekbone gently with his thumbs while gazing at you lovingly, as if his hands were holding the world itself.

Once noticing you finish drinking from your cup, he unspeakably pulls away from your hold to fetch the jug of juice for a refill. Knowing you well, a single cup of juice won't quench your thirst in a sunny day at a van.

...

"... it's quite new to hear that from you."

Diggers realizes that you finally say the magic words for the very first time. The thought of hearing these words from you crosses his mind, noting how he hasn't heard them from somewhere at all until now.

He had this dumbfounded look for a moment until he made a tiny "o" shape on his mouth. Before not wasting a second to turn around and face back at you.

He was wearing that same glance as if he fell in love with you all over again. Seemingly, they rather looked happier than shock.

"Oh, my muse... my love, my sunshine, my moon, and all my stars."

He gushes delightfully in a low whisper, clearly impacted in the most wonderful way he has never thought of himself. He has this urge to embrace you and flutter you with smooches until he can't feel his lips -

Yet having this tiny fear of scaring you away with any sudden advances, he only surrounded you slowly in his arms before he planted a lingering kiss on your forehead. Connecting your foreheads once he closes his eyes and hums with a soft smile.

"You're the loveliest gift god has sent to me..." He whispers as he cradles your head with his hand in an adoring manner.

______

You said it without thinking twice. Seeing him eat gelato with a spoon while still holding your hand with his unoccupied one was something special.

You slowly learn that he never had the plans to pull away at all. Not even whenever you take the initiative to hold hands, embrace one another, and start sneaking these whispers of affection in dark alleyways.

So after finishing the cold dessert, he walks you through the dark streets wanderlessly before turning to a corner. You pull him by the arm close to you so you can lean on him, but this gesture made Pavia pull you back and swing you towards the wall- pinning you against it.

"Now what, bella? Do you really want to stick around here?"

He sounds a bit annoyed by the tone on his question, yet the way he gently brushes his jewelry from his knuckles on your cheek says otherwise.

"Aren't you quite a crazy one?"

"Mm.." You hum as you lean on his touch, "I get that a lot."

"What are you trying to say to me now then, mm..?"

"...I love you."

You now sounded quiet but clear enough to the other. Your lips were close enough to his ear that he could feel you breathing softly against him.

"...?"

The mercenary finds himself dropping his hands from the sides of your head to wrap his deadly arms around you. They rest firmly on your hip and lower back while his back is now leaning on the brick wall once he swing your back around.

"..."

Pavia acts like it was nothing serious at first when he heard you, his eyes unreadable through his shades as he scrutinizes your face like a predator does to a prey for a few silent seconds. However, the tone of his voice remains inexpicable and probably a malicious mischief.

"Oh, you're dancing with fire, little daredevil..."

That's when he grabs you by the collar before smashing your lips with his, swiftly bringing you deeper into the alleyway...

"Two can play this game~"

.

.

.

Several days later, you find yourself being led by him to your house that is now piled up with a lot of boxes that are filled with gifts. Most of them bring a variety of different jewelries.

"I got them as souvenirs, but it turns out none of them are my style... Keep them. whether you like it or not, I'm looking forward to seeing you trying one of them~"

Obviously hinting that these gifts were bought for you;;