#animal crossing fret

[strange-nintendo-facts]

Animal Crossing Squishy Dogs

[bctoastyyy]

the wewys (and NEO twewy) as animal crossing villagers!!! no one asked for this but i had an animal crossing binge a few months ago and it resonated i guess.

ALSO!! someone left a very nice anon message the other day about my twewy art and i whehheheh THANK YOU. it reminded me about how i have straight up not posted any of my art in MONTHS. and i do have some twewy things ive been sitting on and oopsie only posted on evil bird app.

[tiredf-o-u-r]

Thinking about the theoretical men who have ever had a crush on me, and how much that probably made them insecure about their heterosexuality. Cheers, homo

[hitomisuzuya]

scaramouche x fem!reader. no smut. arguments. fluff. angst. two arguments in which scaramouche realizes he is in love.

i have been kicking around this idea for awhile, i am just gonna let my fingers do the typing. i don't expect this to hit very well, tbh

scaramouche is notorious for his temper. he is an experience to deal with, and it is not easy for anyone. most especially you, his assistant and secretary. he didn't want one, but he was advised by pierro and the captain that women are very capable for that type of job. that it might be good for him.

so now he was saddled with you. you are small, shorter than he is which was what he first noticed. he supposed you are a hard worker, kind of overachieving to do your best and do everything to the letter. if you messed up, you were quick to cry, which scaramouche loved.

at first.

he is currently in a stand off with you in his office. he is shooting you a glare that would make anyone drop dead and back down. but not you. you are determined to stand your ground.

"i don't need coffee, woman. what i need is competency, and some peace and quiet. and another pen. yet here you are, running your mouth and displaying the incompetency that i loathe," scaramouche snapped, barely even looking at the coffee you set on his desk.

he was stunned to see that you remembered how he likes his coffee. black with no sugar or cream.

"sir, please. you've been working so hard all day without any rest. if you won't rest, at least drink some coffee," your fretting was pathetic to him. he didn't need these things to sustain himself. "and in the meantime, i can find you a pen that won't explode. you probably squeezed the pen too hard," your smile was soft and he hated it.

"shut up, woman. leave. can't you take a hint?" he snarled, figuring that would finally make you flinch and cave.

nope.

instead, you grit your teeth. "i don't shut up, sir. i grow up," tough words for someone who threw the reports he asked (commanded) you organize for him like a child. finally, you turned and left his office, slamming the door behind you.

he swore it rattled through the entire hall. scaramouche's mouth was agape. nobody has talked to him like that before. as infuriating as it was, he thought you were pretty brave for a lowly human. and why did you look so cute when you are angry?

in the wake of all that, you still showed respect for him by calling him sir.

he stopped snapping at you for offering him coffee he didn't ask for after that.

this argument was over a cat of all things.

it was bad enough that his squad seemed to listen to you more than him. you'd found an injured black cat while out on a scouting mission. one that he glared out his tent the whole time watching for you to come back. where were you? this was a simple mission. what was taking so long? he'd hardly seen you all day and it was pissing him off.

when he started getting pissed about it, he didn't know.

there you came, black cat wrapped in your jacket and cradled carefully in your arms. "what took you so long? you are supposed to be my assistant. that dignifies staying close to me," he demanded, striding out of his tent.

you blinked at him, remaining quiet for a moment. "but you sent me out on the mission," you stated the obvious.

"that's not the point. and," he hissed, glaring at the bundle in your arms. "what is that?"

"a cat. i found him injured and abandoned. it's going to snow tonight, i refused to leave him to die," you replied, petting the cat and cooing to the animal as it showed signs of distress sensing scaramouche's unpleasant temperament.

scaramouche knew exactly what you were going to ask the moment you looked at him and opened your mouth. "no," he deadpanned, "go put it back where you found it. now," he crossed his arms. he saw his other subordinates shoot you apologetic looks.

"but-"

he cut you off. "no means no. the cat will just get in the way," his breath hitched in his throat as tears welled in your eyes.

you were quiet for a moment, and he thought he finally won.

nope.

"no," his subordinates suddenly looked very scared.

"what did you just tell me, woman?" he hissed lowly. "repeat yourself, i dare you."

"no," you said more firmly. "i refuse to abandon him and let him freeze to death. how would you like it if someone abandoned you when you needed it the most? that would be so so terrible. i refuse to put this kitty through that any more than he already was."

with that you turned and walked away back to your tent, cat on your arms and striding with a purpose.

scaramouche was stunned. not only had you just so boldly stood up to him, you'd effectively bitch slapped him in the face with words. what you said jarred him right to his core. he stared at your retreating back until you disappeared inside your tent.

your parting words hit home more than he liked to admit. why did you have to be so fucking smart all the time?

he seethed in his tent for many hours. you usually came by and checked on him, asking if he needed anything even if you were angry at him. but he saw hide nor hair of you.

and he couldn't stand it.

"where is my secretary?" he snarled, striding out of his tent and rounding in on the first subordinate he saw. he pointed to your tent.

why did you have your own tent, anyways? you are his assistant, damn it. you should be by his side with him in his tent. "come sit with me for awhile. and bring that infernal beast, if you want."

you look at him like he had two head. "wh-what?" he sighed at your response, raising an eyebrow. you are confused. scaramouche has never asked you to come sit and keep him company before. your heart fluttered like it always did whenever you were in his presence, never the less, you got up and cat in arms followed him back to his tent.

there was a long, companionable silence between the two of you. he noticed you didn't feel the need to start a conversation just to occupy silence. he really values that. "what happened to it?" he finally asked.

he hated he felt jealous of the cat curled up asleep and purring in your lap. "he is a cat, not a thing, scara," your eyes widened realizing you hadn't addressed him with the respect you always did. "i..i'm sorry," you stammered an apology.

sighing, scaramouche shook his head. "stop it. you don't have to call me sir when we are alone, at least. scara is...fine," he observed your relieved smile, looking away shyly as a blush he wished wasn't there dusted his cheeks.

"oh! by the way," you exclaimed, smiling more like a cat who just put her paw in the cookie jar. you unwrapped something from the sleeping cats collar and handed it to him. "you were looking for this, right? you mentioned pierro was suspicious of unrest in a smaller fatui faction. here is the documented proof. it was tied to the cats collar," the way you looked at him now, hoping for some form of approval, he hated to admit how cute you look.

scaramouche looked down at the paper and then back at you. you actually listened to him when he gave mission briefings. you singlehandedly accomplished what the rest of his squad couldn't do the entire week.

he put his hand on your head, stroking it through your hair. "impressive. you can keep i-" he started to say it in reference to the cat, but stopped when you raised an angry eyebrow at him, "him. the cat i mean," it was worth it to see you smile.

you keeping him company turned into a regular occurrence. which then led to you sleeping in and staying in his tent. love wasn't easy for scaramouche, but this was perfect way for it start.

[viaviavie]

omg hiii !1!1!1! I saw your work for the first time about Perfect bargaining Jade and it was really silly and funny, the way you wrote it is omg— idk how to explain it but it’s really good !1!1!1

If so, since your requests are open. Can you do silver x reader ?1?1? AHHH— you don’t have do this of course, if so then I’ll really appreciate it…!!

For this one, erm… reader is trying to give hints to Silver who’s completely oblivious to it, and Lilia has to step in and help his oblivious son, maybe includes the animal too bc they love the sleepy knight 🤫🤫

Please also take care of yourself , author! Take as much time as you need :333

ngl, i saw this ask 5 minutes after it was sent and jumped for it— i am clearly in the mood for silver, and book 7 has me whipped so so bad AAAAA thank you for the lovely compliments! i hope i served this one well :)

in which the members of diasomnia bestow blessings upon the prefect who is desperately trying to convey feelings to an oblivious silver. PAIRINGS: silver x reader (ft. supportive diasomnia) WARNINGS: characters are depicted as 18+, suggestive content for the third blessing NOTES: i took a look at sleeping beauty for some inspiration. referencing the three gifts bestowed by the fairy godmothers, i thought it would be funny to cast our diasomnia members as wingmen for silver. i hope it's still just as enjoyable!

What was meant to be Lilia's business, eventually became Sebek's and Malleus's business too when the former beckoned them over to that small couch in the Diasomnia dorm. With your head buried into your hands, you hoped to conceal the light blush on your cheeks as you hoped to recant your most recent concern. Of course Lilia would ask the other two to come over, they were your friends too, after all. Luckily for you, your actual problem was likely asleep somewhere on the campus, far away from where you were now.

Lilia's lips were curled into a bat-like grin as he called your name. "What troubles you, my child?" He asks, as if he had forgotten about what you had told him the first time. Still burying your face in your hands, you resist the urge to whine in embarrassment. Sebek glares at you, arms crossed with such impatience. "Speak up, human! You should be grateful that Master Lilia and the Young Master have taken their time to graciously lend their aid in your concerns."

Snapping from your pitiful state, you bit back at Sebek with a weak glare of your own. "I like Silver, okay!" That definitely shuts the half-fae up when he freezes, taken aback by your sudden declaration. Malleus hums in amusement, smiling at your flustered expression. Lilia could only chuckle as he pats your back, sympathy evident in his smile. "There we go! That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You fall silent for a moment, giving Lilia a deadpanned stare.

"You knew the entire time, didn't you?"

"My child, do tell me who would go out of their way to spend time with Silver even with his sleeping conditions. You've spent almost an entire day with him while he was off in the land of dreams!"

Sebek chokes on air from the side, fingers gripping the edges of the couch to the point his face is beeting red. "You fancy Silver?!" You roll your eyes at his theatrics, drawing your attention to how peaceful Malleus appeared. The Briar Prince nods, his smiling growing with each thought processed through his mind. "I do think they make a very nice match. Wouldn't you say so, Lilia?"

"Indeed! The Prefect has been sweet to Silver, and such is the fruit of those affections." Lilia swooned, far too engrossed in his own joy to notice how you have slumped yourself over the couch. You let out a groan, shaking your head into hands. "I've been at it for weeks now, Lilia. There is never a right time to confess, and I can't even tell if he's interested back!"

A pair of gloved hands envelop yours, and Lilia pulls them down to flash his fangs into a grin. "Fret not, Prefect! There is a way to help Silver find some clarity in the matters of the heart!" He gushed excitedly, and it sends a shiver of concern down your spine. Surely, if Lilia's planning was just as eccentric as his cooking, something was bound to go wrong.

"Have you ever heard of the Great Three Patrons of True Love?" You furrow your brows at Lilia's question, shaking your head. "There's a Great Three Patrons of True Love?" You queried. Lilia throws his head back into laughter. "But of course! We have the Great Seven, but there are other legendary figures renown for blessing the world of romance." He sighs dreamily. Your face only further contorts into confusion, all the more puzzled by Lilia's scheming.

"How exactly are they going to help my feelings get through to Silver?"

"The Great Three Patrons? Not exactly,"

Lilia turns behind him, beckoning a hand in a gesturing motion. "Sebek! Malleus!" He enthused, mischief flashing behind his eyes. You could only gulp as Sebek prostrates himself, followed by Malleus's devilish smile.

"We have a job to do, boys!"

It is dusk when Sebek singlehandedly drags you to the woods behind the campus. You don't even get a response as he marches down the rock path, finally halting once you both stand at the boardwalk that stands before the mouth of a lagoon. "My gift shall be the gift of a romantic boat ride through a quiet stream!" You wince slightly at the volume of his tone, but the fish surrounding the area had seemingly swam away almost immediately at his booming voice.

"Sebek, are you sure this is gonna work?" You whispered, observing as the half-fae puffed up his chest with pride. "Of course! And we don't need to take your voice to make this plan work." You rub the back of your head, wondering where you have seen this scene before. "All you have to do, Prefect, is be yourself and let the ride take its course!" You stare at the boat, seemingly ignorant to the sound of clothes rustling beside you.

"Isn't this just a date?" You question, turning to Sebek for confirmation. Instead, your jaw drops with disbelief at the pile of clothes at your feet. Rather than his school uniform, the half-fae was dressed head-to-toe in scuba diving gear, followed by the wetsuit.

"Just a date? No, it is not just a date, Prefect." Sebek smirks at you, committed to his mission. "This shall be the most romantic venture of the decade!"

At the slight rustling of the grass coming from behind, Sebek immediately readies himself for a quick sprint. "Here he comes, Prefect! I will be lurking in the background for assistance!" Before you could even question the plan, he has scampered into a nearby bush with his clothes in tow. You barely get a moment to recompose yourself when you hear your name from a distance.

Turning around, your eyes land upon Silver who had paused at your side. He glances down at you with a gentle expression. "Prefect, you're here." He rubs the back of his head, tilting himself to the boat sitting in the water. "I was told that you needed to observe the wildlife here for an assignment from Professor Trein."

"I do?" Confusion contorts your expression, and you only grow more confused as you struggle to recall an assignment of sorts. Silver nods. "Yes. Sebek told me that he was supposed to help you across the lagoon, but he is currently occupied by his duties to Malleus." You take a quick look at the rustling bush below, only to give Silver an embarrassed smile. What kind of excuse is this, Sebek!?

"Right! I'm really sorry for dragging you out here. I'm sure you have other things to do." Silver shakes his head, his expression softening at your words. "No, it is my pleasure to accompany you, Prefect. I do like spending time with you." Even for such simple platonic words, your heartbeat quickens and you swallow to yourself with quiet laugher. "Can you row a boat?" You found yourself asking as Silver lowers himself onto the rowboat, reaching out his hand for you to take.

"I've learned how to row a boat while I lived in Briar Valley. Father would sometimes take me fishing as a form of enrichment, he says."

His grip is firm, yet gentle as you take an uncertain step into the wooden contraption. Both of you heave a sigh of relief as you are settled onto your seat, sharing smiles together.

You immediately take notice at the way Silver's muscles flex through his uniform as he took the oars and began pushing. He made it seem so easy, and the fact that he faced you— Shit, he's facing you! Once that realization hits you, your gaze is immediately shifting everywhere but his face. Through your peripherals, however, you swear that he is looking at you.

Your throat is as dry at the mermaid from the tale, and you are rendered speechless. By the time the sun has barely set, Silver hums to catch your attention. "It is a beautiful evening, don't you think so, Prefect?" By the light of the glowing firelies that had come to play, followed by the soft chatter of the freshwater residents in the lagoon, you take the time to marvel at the scenery. Perhaps Sebek's excuse does make sense, considering a lot of wildlife were active at this hour.

You want to say something, but you could only muster a shy nod as you finally brave yourself to look at the student across from you. He catches you into his stare, and now you were merely captive to his gaze. Just as difficult as it was to look at him, it was even harder to look away.

Silver had stopped rowing now, allowing the boat to float along the lagoon. Elbows resting on his knees, he is almost observing you like a specimen while you shift and squirm with that shy expression on your face.

And meanwhile, Sebek is cursing at you as he quietly surfaces from the water to breathe. The Prefect is never going to say a word at this rate! His eyes narrow with determination, his body barely floating among the water plants and the ducks as he takes a deep breath.

"There's your moment, floating in a blue lagoon..."

Both you and Silver pause, sharing the same confused look as the melodic timber bounces across the water. You certainly know what is causing that sound, but judging by the look on Silver's face, he was rather puzzled by its concise melody.

"Do you hear that?"

Before you could reply, a breeze hits your face and causes you to shiver from the cold. Curse your memory, you seemed to have forgotten your jacket at the dorm before Sebek had dragged you out for his escapade. Being the gentleman, Silver notices and he is suddenly alert as he shifts himself to the side. "You're cold, Prefect. Come and sit with me," He calls out gently, holding out his hand for you to take.

A sigh leaves your lips as you smile at him, taking his careful hand as he guided you to the space beside him. You do not miss the way his hand is wrapped against your waist, keeping you balanced and upright. Your eyes widened as he began to shimmy himself out of his jacket, and the protests ready on your lips die quickly as he places the garment over your shoulders. "I do not want you to catch a cold, Prefect."

He is close, and you can feel the warmth of his torso as he shifts closer to you now. You cannot hold back the satisfied sigh that leaves your lips, and you do not notice the way Silver smiles faintly at your peaceful expression.

"Boy, you better do it soon. No time would be better,"

Silver pauses slightly at the voice, but ignores it in favor of your attention. "The stars are bright tonight, Prefect. Would you like to watch them for a short while?" The suggestion takes you by surprise, and you barely catch Silver's face as he leans back, gesturing to a flat surface on the boat. Still, something urges you to lower yourself as he does, resting your head on his muscled forearm.

A surprised gasp leaves your lips as you stare at the sky, and Silver's breath is taken away by your awed expression. There is a certain content in his heart as he watches you stare, and you do not even notice the way he stares back at you.

"... won't say a word until you..."

It takes some time until you look back at Silver, once more held prisoner by his stare. He doesn't even realize that you have caught him staring this time, and continues to memorize your features and your soft smile. He should have questioned your silence a long time ago, but it is out of his mind as you relax onto his arm. Silver shifts closer, searching for something, whether it was warmth, or more of you.

"Come on and kiss the—!"

Alas, the moment is ruined when four teal arms loudly slammed against the boat.

Silver is immediately put on his guard, forcing himself up and gripping the oar as if it were a makeshift blade. His other arm is positioned across your figure, as if protecting you from whatever was in front of the boat. You are equally as startled, and the first sound you make this evening is a squeak. You stare in the darkness, immediately taking notice of two sets of mismatched eyes.

"Loooook, it's Shrimpy and Jellyfish!"

Almost flipping the boat over with his weight, Floyd surfaces from the water and waves at you with a toothy grin. His twin, on the other side, gives a cordial smile. "Jade! Floyd!" You cried out, flustered by their sudden appearance. "What in the world are you both doing here?" You asked in an exasperated tone, your hand clutching onto the other oar tightly.

Your frustration only serves to amuse the more composed twin. "Octanivelle students tend to come here for a swim. Floyd and I were here for a short exercise." The eel hummed, followed by the amused cackles of the other brother. "You should have told us you were both here! Jade and I would have been happy to propel you both to the other side!" The idea is unwelcomed as you and Silver immediately attempt to row the boat away.

"No thank you, we were just—" Your words were immediately cut off by the slightest sound of static coming from afar. All heads turn towards the direction of the noise, and you could only hide your face into your palms.

It is Sebek, dressed in the glory of his wetsuit, pointing his pen at the two eels. "AWAY RAPSCALLIONS!"

The threat is not lost on the two eels. "Ack, it's the Crocodile!" Floyd groans as Jade merely smiles, his attention caught by something else entirely. The twins splash back into the water to seemingly deal with the disturbance, and you could only stare at a confused Silver.

"We should start rowing." You murmur.

"Yes, we should." He replies with understanding.

It does not take long for you to be taken aside by Malleus this time. After that episode at the lagoon, you had heard that Sebek returned to Lilia bawling at his failure to fulfill his mission. He had even apologized to you himself for how poorly that plan went, and had spent the entire day moping over it. Needless to say, the mission to make Silver realize his feelings was a team effort to be shared.

And there you were, dressed in a fencing uniform from head to toe, your face obscured by a fencing mask that obscured your features. Malleus stands before you, arms crossed with a confident smirk on his face. "My gift shall be the gift of a dance. Such love may be realized through a mystery, just as a scullery maid found love at a ball she was never meant to attend."

But this was not a ball, by your understanding. You were heading out to spar with Silver after Lilia had claimed to have found a good partner to practice with. Rather, Silver does not know it would be you that he would be sparring with today.

You sheepishly rub the back of your head, averting your gaze from the fae. "I can duel, but I don't think my skills are enough to impress him." Malleus shakes his head in disagreement, taking upon the blade in your hands onto his own. "I do not think that would be the case, Child of Man. Your skills are adequate and for a time, I shall grant onto you this blessing."

With a swift movement, his arm dances across the blade. You watch in awe as the blade shimmers and glows for a slight moment before fading away. Malleus lets out a noise of satisfaction before returning the rapier to your hand. "This shall give you a bit of a... 'boost', as some people call it." A smile is brought across your lips as you playfully swing the sword at a fake opponent.

"Thank you, Malleus!"

"The blessing shall wear out, just as the maid's magic enchantments have faded away at midnight. Alas, she was still very much able to win over the prince's heart in that tale. I shall not have you wear a glass slipper, but the art of the sword shall suffice." Malleus smiles as your name is called out from afar, signaling your entrance to the courtyard nearby.

"Now, run along, Child of Man. I wish you great luck." You could only send a nod to Malleus followed by a quick thanks as you hurry yourself to the courtyard. Silver and Lilia are already there, and the student merely looks at you with respect.

As you approach, Silver holds out his hand as a greeting. You shake hands, and bow slightly. "Thank you for having me today." You nod in acknowledgement, glancing at Lilia to fill in the words for you. The bat-like fae chuckles, patting Silver's back. "Our fighter here is rather shy. I'm sure that translates to 'I hope we have a good match'!" Lilia snickers before he backs away, leaving you both to take your positions at the center of the courtyard.

You have dueled before, even joined Silver for some sparring lessons in the past. Even Sebek himself has admitted that you did surprisingly well for a human from such a normal background. Malleus had provided you confidence in that moment, and with this enchanted blade, you are certain that you can catch Silver's heart with the blade.

"Begin!"

You play the game as you would, waiting for your opponent to strike. You know Silver very well, especially after observing him for so long. He is not the type to strike first— that would certainly give an opponent the advantage to parry. And so, you do not make a move either, keeping a distance. Silver had to make the first move, and you must parry.

And as predicted, he makes the move with a swift swing of the sword that you block perfectly. However, it is easier to push back now rather than allow his weight to knock you back. The enchantments on the rapier allow you to push back with ease in spite of your physical abilities, forcing Silver to stagger. His eyes are narrowed with precise calculation as he swings again, to which you parry once more before swiping at him.

It is a dangerous dance, indeed. You respond to each swipe of the blade he sends you, dodging and lunging. Had it not been for the enchantment, you are certain that you would have collapsed onto the floor out of exhaustion. Silver is sweating, and it does not take long for him to lose his footing once you sweep you leg at his feet.

He falls, but he drags you down with him when his hand takes your sleeve and tugs you onto the grass. Before you knew it, the blade is out of your hands and you are suddenly trapped by the weight of the silver-haired boy on top of you. Silver straddles your hips, restraining your wrists above your head as you kick and squirm against his hold. Alas, you are weaponless and now, defenseless.

With a groan of defeat, you concede and cease your struggles. Silver pants and hums to himself, pleased with the outcome. He pulls away and returns to his feet, holding out his hand for you to take once more.

"Good work, Prefect."

You gasp out a sigh of relief as you tear away the fencing mask, revealing your face drenched with sweat. "Hey, Silver..." You smile tiredly as you take his welcome hand to pull yourself off the ground. "You played very well today." He acknowledged, lips quirked up slightly into a smile.

You beam at him with delight. "Thank you, Silver! Although, it was really just the rapier. Malleus blessed it early with his magic." You pause in your movements, looking at him with a surprised expression. "How'd you know it was me?" You stammered, and your heart skips another beat as Silver takes your wrist into his hand.

"You maneuver your wrist like this. Your grip tends to be loose, and your footing is always slightly shifted onto the right." You blink to yourself, amazed. You never did think that Silver had observed you enough to a point where he had grown familiar with your movements. Thankfully, you can blame the heat for your reddening cheeks. "Is that so?" You murmur in wonder, and your companion only nods.

Silver faces you, letting go of your wrist as it falls back to your side. He averts his gaze, almost shyly. "Would you like to spar with me again? I wouldn't want to keep you from any other obligations." Your heart melts at how quiet his tone was, as if he were hoping to keep a secret. You are glowing, and he carefully etches your beaming expression into his memory while you nod enthusastically.

"Of course! Let's go grab some water first!"

"I shall accompany you, Prefect."

Meanwhile, Malleus observes from behind a pillar in thought. "I see," He murmurs to himself, a content smile flashing across his features.

"I suppose the Prefect's skills were the glass shoes after all."

It was not an odd occurrence to trail after Silver at the end of the day. The act of walking your friend back to his dorm is unfortunately as platonic as it ever was. You swear it is to make sure he doesn't fall onto the floor if he decides to fall asleep mid-step, but really, you simply enjoy his company, as he does yours. Unfortunately for you, it's grown too difficult to tell whether Silver's feelings towards you are purely platonic or if there was something more than that.

You doubt you will find your answer today as Sebek drags the sleeping beauty to his dorm. You are collapsed onto the couch as you were a week prior when you came to Lilia seeking his guidance. Speak of the devil, the bat-like fae is blinking down at you with an eager grin.

"There is still one more blessing that we have yet to bestow upon you." You hope it is not a magic carpet ride. It would be really bad if Silver fell asleep in the middle of the air, and you are certain that a bat cannot outfly a magic carpet from Scarabia. You were rather unwilling to turn into a frog, and the last thing you wanted to do is be thrown into a war dressed like a soldier to gain Silver's affections. You were desperate, but not that desperate.

"You better have some grand master plan for this, Lilia." You uttered, sitting up from the couch. Lilia chuckles, and the sweet scent of cocoa hits your nose. "Nothing proactive, I assure you!"

That's odd. Delicious and Lilia are two words that one can never use in the same sentence.

Immediately, your face grows pale at the sight of a green mug in Lilia's hands. You immediately back yourself onto the couch, ready to bolt for the door at the slightest hint of food poisoning. "Lilia, what in the world did you put in this mug?" You ask a bit too hastily, and the older man only laughs at your reaction.

"Three tablespoons of Sam's Nocturne Chocolate delight and warm milk, my dear! I would have loved to add in some more ingredients to enhance its taste, but it seems that the dorm's pantry is empty once again."

The world takes a collective sigh of relief, and as do you as you gingerly take the mug into your hands. It is warm to the touch, but far from scalding. Lilia bows slightly, smiling at your relaxed figure. "My gift shall be the gift of the sweetest of dreams. It shall suffice for now."

He stays as he watches you take a hesitant sip, but to his delight, you immediately consume the drink in a few gulps. Returning the mug to his possession, you smile after wiping away at your lips with your sleeve. "Thanks, Lilia." Perhaps this was the right approach, and a good night's sleep could bring you some clarity on how to confess to Silver. Maybe you were just meant to confess to him yourself in the end, rather than wait for him to understand your feelings on his own.

Lilia pats your head with an assuring grin, but oddly enough, there is a hint of mischief behind his eyes that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"Hurry back to your dorm, my dear! You'd best find a bed as it gets dark!"

It isn't ever so often that Silver sees himself in a dream. Most dreams that he slips into often concerned other people. He has seen Ace dream of a tyrannical Riddle chaining said student to his desk to finish his homework. There was an instance where Silver hid with Leona to escape the notorious hunter from Pomefiore. Silver has also spent a handful of dreams watching Jamil make a mockery out of poor Kalim in his power-driven fantasies. Maybe once, he has seen himself in a few dreams concerning his own dorm members, but this was the first time he had ever waltzed into yours.

He had followed your dream-like figure into the heart of the forest, stalking quietly within the shadows. A part of him knew that it was unnecessary to make such an effort to leave your dream undisturbed, considering that most people do not remember those dreams once they wake.

And yet, he cannot help but play the role of the knight tonight. Even when you are only dressed in your sleepwear, the light of the moon slipping through the trees tells of your beauty.

He wonders where you are going, what you sought in these woods. You appear secretive, constantly taking glances back as if you knew you were being followed. Hiding amongst the trees and the foliage, Silver maintains the secret unbeknownst to you. When you finally pause, the moonlight is cast over another figure now and Silver's eyes are wide with shock.

An imitation of him stands before you now, dressed in prince-like regalia. The fake smiles at you who merely croons at the touch of its hand against your cheek. "I'm not supposed to speak to strangers," You breath out and Silver is frozen behind the tree that hides his figure, unable to turn away as the imitation takes your hand, the other around your waist.

"—but we have met before." It murmured, commencing the start of the dance as he hums a tune native to Briar Valley.

Something stirs within Silver's chest as he watches you smile so endearingly at his imitation. If this was your dream, this manifestation of him was certainly your doing. Only then do the events of the recent week crash down on him like Deuce's pots, hammering each implication further down his throat at a time. Even beyond the strange doings of his dormmates, it answers enough of your own behaviors as well.

Had he really been that oblivious to his own heart as well?

And so, when the fake finally releases you into a spin, Silver takes no chances to leave the shadows and replace his fake who continues to hum from afar.

Your eyes were fluttered shut when you feel a set of hands intertwine with your own. A breath brushes against your ear, the faint scent of the briar roses flooding your senses. "Prefect," Your eyes snap awake from alarm, startled by the voice. Someone was still humming, and that prince-like version of Silver barely smiles at you before dissipating into the moonlight.

Still, there are a pair of hands clasping yours. You immediately turn, and your heart stops at the sight of Silver boring his eyes onto yours. "Ah—!" It is instinct to immediately pull away, but he doesn't let you. He holds onto an arm, and leans himself forward towards you with that soft gaze. He is nothing but soft with you, rather than stern and withdrawn as some others would describe him to be.

Silver is smiling at you, almost in an assuring manner. "I'm sorry, Prefect. I didn't mean to startle you." His words are just as honeyed as he was, and it threatens to reel you back into his chest. And you do, lulled in by the pale moonlight that emphasized his auroral gaze. You aren't shy as you were during the day, he notes to himself. There is still some hesitancy in your eyes as you are pressed against his chest, a hand trailing over his chest up to his clavicle.

He returns the gesture as he lowers his head to your ear. "Is it true, Prefect?" Silver murmured, and all it does it send shivers down your spine. "What is?" You seek for more, but he does not give it to you. You liken him to a true knight who had sworn oaths as he acts as your wall, for you to lean onto but to never cave in. You want him to cave, to collapse, to crumble onto you, and he knew it. "That you long for my heart," He breaths out, and you feel a hand snake up your back to play with the ends of your hair.

You peer up at him with glossy eyes, obscured by this dreamy-like haze. "And what if I do?" You whispered, oddly overcome by a sense of bravado. Silver continues to look down at you, allowing his free hand to cup your cheek.

"Then I would be the greatest fool to have never known to reciprocate them sooner." Your breath hitches as Silver stares you down, and you find your own hands gripping the collar of his dress shirt. "Forgive my obliviousness, Prefect. I will do anything to earn your heart properly." A true servant Silver was, even more so to the whims of his own heart.

Certainly, he felt even weaker when you tug him closer to you. "Anything?" In turn, he finds himself restraining his own hand from crashing your lips against his own. It was almost as if all tension that he hadn't noticed before had begun to pound at his brain. Certainly, this had to be vengeance for everything you had to put up with since you fell for him for the first time.

"Show me what you truly feel, Silver."

He wastes no time in pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. It is soft, gentle as he always was with you. With all the benevolence of a prince, Silver does not immediately pull away. With his eyes fluttered shut, he molds himself into your shape with the most careful of presses, taking in your bottom lip between his own.

If he remained there any longer, he is certain to entrap you. Silver knows himself well enough to know that he was far from a prince. He was weak, and knows that you can easily abuse that weaknesses with merely a glance. His silver eyes are trained onto yours, and eventually, remain fixated onto your now rosy lips. How he feels even weaker when your arms wrap his neck, pulling him down towards you again.

It takes a moment for him to realize that perhaps, you most definitely suited Night Raven College for how wicked you could be sometimes.

"Show me again, please."

And how could he ever say no to you?

Silver knows what you are looking for when you are the one to drag him close, to press yourself against him this time as if you were the one making a demonstration. That is not to say he dislikes it, not with the way he hungrily gasps into your mouth without any thought to leave.

"Silver," He whispers your name in return before he manages to find his way back to your lips, lost in the way your hands had entangled themselves into his hair. You tug even harder when he attempted to pull away for air, and he groans. In the short moment his eyes open, he finds himself challenged by the amount of force you are using on him. Finding enjoyment in this struggle of power, he flexes his muscles as he envelops you into his arms, pushing you again and again until he wrestled the control from your hands.

Backed against a tree, Silver continues to steal your breaths as he towers and gently prompts you downwards. He does not even realize that the first few buttons of his dress shirt have already been buttoned, and you had found yourself leeching onto his warmth by snaking your hand across his shoulders. The other is holding his own now, guiding it to your waist and you are on the verge of begging for more and more.

You cannot help but whine when he pulls away, breaking away from your greedy whims to keep him against your lips. The way his leg is wedged in between your own is calculated, and Silver smiles victoriously at your entrapment. Still, he is far from arrogant and he dares to press a sweet kiss against your cheek before he moves towards your ear.

"You know my heart, Prefect." He murmurs, his teeth barely brushing against the shell of your ear. "You know it, once upon a dream."

And it ends with a sharp ray of sunlight filtering in through the window, and the sound of Grim crying for you to awaken from slumber.

Your ears are still glowing red from the faint memory of last night's dream. You cannot exactly recall what brought about that fantasy, let alone how fresh the dream still burns into your mind. It lingers in your mind as you sit in Trein's class. It still lingers as you grovel through Crewel's potion demonstrations, and it definitely hasn't left after you find yourself lost in the forest behind the campus. You never truly registered that you missed a turn to head to Ramshackle, not while you attempt to recall the way Silver's breath felt down your neck.

Much to your sadness, it was only a dream to feed your delusions. This crush of yours was bound to drive you insane if you did not take care of it and confess to him soon.

That was if you ever got out of the forest. Grim just had to be stuffing himself full of tuna at the mess hall, but at least he wouldn't be making fun of you for being so absentminded.

You were probably going to make it out alive. There were more than enough people on campus who would easily find you. There was the beastmen and their keen noses, not to mention Rook who seemed to be scarily good at tracking down people. You sigh to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

It'd be nice if Silver was the one who rescued you instead.

"Prefect," Speaking of which, you could easily detect his voice among a crowd. Immediately washing off your flustered disposition, you turn around and grin at the silver-haired student who was making his way through a bush. "Silver!" Your voice is cheery, almost as if you weren't having a complete meltdown over a dream. "What brings you here?"

You immediately take notice of Silver's companions; a bird perched on his finger, followed by a squirrel, a skunk, and a young deer at his leg. "A few friends told me that a friend was in need of rescuing." You chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your head. Suddenly, maybe being found by Rook was a lot better than dying of embarrassment in front of your crush. Nonetheless, spending time with Silver was always better than dying in a corner of your room just because your feelings refused to be known.

"I suppose I did get lost." You stammer before beaming at him, seemingly relieved by the prospect of being found. "—but you came to rescue me! My savior!" You comically gasp, feigning the appearance of a damsel in distress. Silver chuckles at your theatrics, allowing the animals to disperse into the forests before he stepped closer to you. "I'd rather it be me than anyone else, really." The implication is lost on you as you laughed nervously, lightly jabbing his arm in jest.

"Careful there, Silver. You're starting to sound like a prince from the tales."

You pause as Silver takes another step closer, almost tethering the borders of your own personal bubble. "There is a famous tale known in Briar Valley. Are you familiar with the Tale of the Sleeping Princess?" You look at him, perplexed by that little glint in his eye that reminds you of Lilia. "I've heard variations of it." You breathed out.

"You must be aware that she was cursed into a deep sleep. To break the curse, she must be given a kiss of true love." You should be nervous, but oddly enough, this sense of closeness felt natural. You nod in acknowledgement before shrugging in your confusion. "A prince woke her up, didn't he? But they have never met before, and she chose to wed him at the end of the story."

There is a knowing smile on Silver's face as he hummed in agreement. "I'd say that they had met before, just as we had."

Before you can even decide to die of embarrassment on the spot, he had already closed the gap as he did once before. Silver gentle hand had brushed against your cheek, and his long hair tickles your skin as he lowers himself to your ear.

"And you know my heart," He murmurs so quietly, but it sends flutters into your chest nonetheless. You croon into his palm, sighing softly before rising to your toes. "From where?" You ask him, and he swiftly leans downwards to lay upon a gentle kiss onto your lips for the first time.

"Once upon a dream."

[sleeepybeary]

☆ 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 ☆

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓: Babysitting your brother's daughter, Agatha can't help but find herself biting her as a warning for the secrets told.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: biting (gentle bites)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 820

It wasn't often that you heard from your family, even less so from your brother. However, with your brother's upcoming travel to the town just over and a babysitter cancelling, you were dumped with the responsibility of babysitting instead, unfortunately.

So, kneeling down on the floor of your house with a small smile spreading across your face, you coo with a gentle tone of voice.

“Look at you, being so smart” you had commented, watching with a tamed unamusement as the baby had picked up the small horse statue carved from pine wood. Her small fingers wrapped around the throat of the animal, hands not developed enough for form a tight squeeze, but strong enough to hold in a soft clasp.

“Talking to the imaginary friend again?” Agatha’s voice rang out from behind you as she stood, balancing most of her weight upon her right leg, arms crossed and her hair messily thrown up in some excuse of a “fashionable” style.

“I beg your pardon?” You let out a choke of disbelief, your eyes narrowing as you glance at the woman who can only stare back with a daring smirk. “I'm not talking to an imaginary friend, I'll have you know”

“Then who is of our company?”

You flick your head slightly, motioning for her to step closer as your fingers wrap around the underarms of the infant. “Look at me!” You speak through a tightening tone, a smile threatening to break way. “I'm a baby, I need your attention!”

“Ahh…” Agatha clicks her tongue, kneeling down slightly as her hands remain almost limp beside her. “You're babysitting today… that totally slipped my mind”

“Yeah, well, no one else was available” you pause, letting your fingers slowly slip from the smaller girl's arms. “Besides, this may put you on good terms with my family too”

Laughing dryly, Agatha almost slaps your shoulder, “we're already on semi-decent terms. I fret to think they'll find out I'm a witch someday, though. That's when I'll need those accommodations”

You tch, eyeing your girlfriend slightly. “They'd probably disown me before I could ever breathe your name again”

“Or sell us out for ransom”

“That's not very nice, Agatha” you warn, your eyes going almost lazy as you throw her an odd look.

Though, despite your slight defence in protecting your family's name, in the lime light, what Agatha was speaking of was certainly of a possibility - one you'd wish to avoid.

So, in turn, telling your parents of your girlfriend's stance in witchcraft was out of the picture. For now, at least.

“You didn't hear anything, okay, little one?” Agatha had ignored your look, turning to hold the tinier humans' hands, watching the way her young fingers wrapped around the length of just one of her fingers. “If you did, and you tell anyone, we're gonna have a real serious problem”

“She's three, Agatha. She can barely even say Mama and Dada.” You laugh teasingly at her seriousness, noting the way her eyes crinkle at the edges from the narrowing of her eyes.

“At the age of three, I was already running around, causing my ‘Mama’ some awfully inconvenient hassle” she grins, blue eyes shining in a haze of mischief. “Stealing food, drawing on the walls, biting the furniture once my first tooth came in-”

“A real devil in disguise”

“Exactly” she chuckles, leaning down till her face was just a rulers length away from the infants face. “Do you know what we do to snitches?”

“Agatha…” you groan slightly, having gained the exact same treatment during the first night of finding out about her supernatural abilities.

She waits, watching as the baby lets out a small squeal, smiling at her impaired ability to yet talk. “We eat them all up like this-”

You observe the way Agatha brings the infants' hand to her mouth, her teeth gently sinking into the vulnerable of her flesh just enough to leave a small indentation.

Your lips purse slightly, watching at the way Agatha lets out small “nom nom” sounds to the slow rhythm of which she scatters the smaller hand in gentle bites - never going far enough to actually hurt her - but enough to leave her confused.

“If this were anyone else, I'd almost be jealous” you tut, shaking your head.

“Oh? Do you want to be bitten, too?” Agatha looks to you, smirking slightly as she takes your hand in her own.

You laugh lightly, scrunching your nose as you pull your hand back. “No… I think I'm okay for now”

Agatha can only let out a gentle hum, licking her drying lips slightly as she adjusts her… your T-shirt as it hangs loosely upon her shoulders and around her throat. “You know where to find me if you ever change your mind”

“In my house…? In my clothes…?”

“Exactly” Agatha lets out a simple laugh, her eyes closing as her head tilts back slightly. “And don't you forget it”

[mirangel]

selcouth.

pairing: bi han x afab!reader

genre: smut

cw: dubcon, degradation, praise, fingering, breeding kink, dumbification, overstimulation, no aftercare, use of pet (2) and slut (2), fingers in mouth, mating press -> doggy style, creampie, no pronouns used

word count: 2.1k

you messed up majorly, and the grandmaster gives you a second chance, just not as a member of the lin kuei anymore.

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was infamous for his strict, domineering rule over his warrior clan. Even his younger brother, Kuai Liang was never the exception to his acerbity. However, like many others who serve the Grandmaster, you keep your head low, performing your duties and assignments as commanded by him. Today just wasn’t your day however, as you focused on the icicles beginning to form on the pristine wood under you. You could feel the glare boring down on the back of your head as you hang your head, ashamed and fearful for your life. You were already still recovering from previous injuries, just the thought of potentially worsening your wounds makes your head spin.

Your mind was in shambles, pleads and apologies spilling from your mouth like a torrent, but the increasing cold chill had you stammering. “Shut up.” Bi-Han spat, his arms crossed and his dark brown eyes narrowing. Even masked you could tell he disapproved of your actions. “You have no right to speak after your failure.” You felt your heart sink, but you kept your place on your knees anyways, fearful of what he’d do to you if you tried to defend yourself further. Bi-Han circled around your kneeling form, his footsteps pounding in your ears. “You’ve failed the Lin Kuei, failed to execute your duties. It’s laughable how you try to defend yourself like this.” You trembled from the sheer cold, finding solace in the comforts of your mind.

But his voice was soon closer, borderline whispering as cold air appeared in your peripheral view. “You’re unfit as a warrior of the Lin Kuei.” Bi-Han sneered, his lips forming into even more of a frown than he usually sported.

“Grandmaster I—” You fretted, but your head was suddenly shoved to the ground, leaving you disoriented as you realized how much your head hurt. “I have a better role for you.” You could hear the arrogance in his voice despite his almost permanent scowl present on his face, “You’d do better as my spouse. You’d have no need for this excessive… clumsiness, then.” Your eyes widened in terror, desperate to break free from his grasp. But Bi-Han proved too strong for you, his grip on the back of your head strengthened as he kicked out your knees enough to where your hips are raised, and your head still pressed to the ground.

“We can even start with training today,” Bi-Han commented, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I know how you train early in the morning and end late at night, it’ll be just like that.” The chill worsens, goosebumps forming on your skin. “Your very own personal regimen, aren’t you excited?” Truth be told, your heart skipped a beat at the mere anticipation of this so called “regimen”, but fear filled your veins more than excitement did, and you thrashed like a wild animal.

Bi-Han grunted, gripping your chin with the hand he used to hold your head down, whispering into your ear with an uncharacteristically sultry voice, “You’ll carry my children, I’ll make sure of that.” Your body trembles in excitement, a breathy “Grandmaster” escaping your lips in a needy fashion, and he can’t help but groan. “Good little pet.” He laughs condescendingly, beginning to strip off your uniform.

Bi-Han makes quick work of it, as expected for a man who practically lives in his uniform. He callously tosses the garments on the other end of his office leaving you completely bare, shivering to the cold chill in the air. “Don’t tell me you’re already shivering.” He scoffs, his intense gaze searing into your body. Bi-Han lowers his pants down to his knees, a large bulge prominent on his boxers. Your eyes widen, mouth becoming dry at the mere sight. But he cocks his head with a grin while crossing his arms, making his muscles that much larger.

Bi-Han moves behind you, caging your body with his own. His cold breath hitting the tip of your left ear as he gropes your body, malleable and soft under his calloused hand. His other hand wraps around your neck, adding just the slightest amount of pressure to make you aware of his presence. “You should be grateful I’m allowing you to have this second chance. I would’ve killed any other warrior for this… blunder.”

Thick fingers that once surrounded your neck prod at your hole, it’s undeniably cold, but there’s a sort of thrill that goes with the temperature play as well. “Wet already?” You feel his grin form despite his face pressed up against your neck. “Such a slut.” You stiffen up at his words, your body involuntarily shivering and you can’t help but let out a moan, and it was almost as if his eyebrow raised, “Oh?” Bi-Han sneered, thrusting his fingers into your pussy, struggling to accommodate two of his fingers alone.

“Look at you, how will you take my cock if you can’t even take my own fingers?” You failed to come up with a response, desperate to find something to grasp, something to hold while he brought you further into depravity. Your eyes rolled back as you bite down on your lower lip, a choked sob leaving your lips as he continued to finger fuck you into oblivion. What didn’t help was Bi-Han whispering the most obscene things into your ear, melting your mind with his voice alone.

“Your face is so cute when you’re fucked out like that.”

“So weak for me, have you been like this all along?”

“I should’ve had you like this from the beginning, you’re prettier as my stupid whore than a Lin Kuei warrior.”

Despite the degradation, it never fails to make your knees weak. Your body practically shakes with how desperate you’ve become, the coil in your stomach tightens as he brings you to your high, and you would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for Bi-Han holding your waist up. He’s beyond arrogant for a Grandmaster, but he has the skills to back up that annoyingly prideful attitude.

“Grandmaster, I’m gonna cum…” You whined, raising your hips higher to chase your pleasure. However, Bi-Han didn’t respond with words, replying with steady, deep panting resonating in your ear. It was as if his cold fingers set your insides on fire, the loud slap of his palm making contact with your ass, more of your fluids soaking his middle and ring finger with ease.

You let out a choked sob, your entire body giving out as you were overwhelmed by your orgasm. He wraps his arm around your body, supporting your trembling body as he continued to finger fuck you into another realm. “Such a good little toy for me.” He murmurs, your eyes rolling back from how electrifying his cold fingers feel inside you. You whined when his fingers left you, turning your head to find Bi-Han staring at his fingers wistfully, spreading apart his middle and ring finger to find a thick white string connecting the two together.

His gaze shifts to your embarrassed form, a smirk present on his face just before he shoves his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck.” He demands, “Clean up your mess, dirty slut.”

His fingers were thick beyond words, feeling more as a popsicle due to how cold they were. But you obeyed without hesitation, your hands trembling as you grabbed his hand. He forces his fingers further into your throat, tilting his head as you struggle to adapt to the intrusion. “By the gods, you look so terribly debauched like this.” Bi-Han scoffs, his other hand caressing your cheek as if you were his equal.

“It makes me want to fuck you dumb.”

Bi-Han’s eyes narrowed, lowering his boxers just enough to where his cock would be exposed, another purposeful show of power. He takes note of your naked body, pushing you down onto your back before climbing on top of you. Bi-Han places his hands on the underside of your thighs, experimentally pushing your legs towards your chest. “Suitable enough.”

He hooks your legs onto his shoulders, gliding his dick along your slick folds, taunting you, teasing you. You can’t help but let out a shaky moan, “Please Grandmaster.” You plead, but he takes his time, his gaze boring into your teary eyes. It was almost as if he intended to melt you with his dark brown eyes alone, it brought a shiver down your spine and if you weren’t about to be fucked into Outworld and back, you’d probably collapse to your knees to suck his dick.

Bi-Han would probably get off to that, now that you think about it. He’s always liked a good show of obedience after all.

He taps the head of his dick right onto your clit, and your body jolts as if you’ve been shocked by lightning itself. He can’t help but grin at the sight, his ego swelling larger than his body can contain it. After what seems like forever, he presses the tip of his cock right at the entrance of your pussy. Although he doesn’t utter a word, that mere action in and of itself is a warning for what’s to come.

Bi-Han goes slow, agonizing slow. Despite his degrading words, there’s a look in his eyes that tell so much more than his words do. You’d dwell on it further if it weren’t for his dick practically stretching you out. Not only did you feel so overwhelmingly full, but it hurt in a way that was pleasurable. But you couldn’t word that into a proper sentence, there’s no way you could when Bi-Han is directly above you, his face contorted into restrained pleasure as he tries so desperately to hold himself back from fucking you like an animal in heat.

“By the Gods… you feel heavenly.” It was the only kind thing he had said this entire encounter. Tears of pained pleasure fall from your eyes, he notices them as soon as they hit your cheek, wiping them away with his thumb. “No tears.” He tuts, kissing the outermost corner of your eyes. It’s chilly of course, why wouldn’t it be? But something about his actions brings you comfort, rather than the sheer blizzard he carries with him on the daily, it’s more of a gentle breeze ghosting your skin.

Bi-Han fucks you as if it was the last thing he was going to do, burying his face into the crook of your neck to prevent you from seeing his face. He pants, blowing cold air against your neck and your body shivers in response. “So tight f’me.” The Grandmaster mumbles, his grip on your hips strengthening. It was so hard to think with the way he pounded into you as if you were nothing but his toy. It was exhilarating, it was like the pain you felt from your injuries from the prior mission was never there in the first place.

If your wounds reopen as a result of this, then so be it. Getting the fuck of your life was worth any punishment he would give. Bi-Han suddenly pulls out, and flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your waist and thrusting mercilessly. You were desperate to find some sort of purchase, but the wood flooring gave you none. Your eyes rolled back as you pleaded for mercy, and you let out a shriek when you came on his cock, biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to ground yourself.

“That’s twice now, my pet.” He sighs, his eyebrows knitting at his impending climax. Bi-Han spanks you once more, and you let out a needy whine, grinding up against him in desperation. “Where do you want me?” You try to answer, but it comes out as meaningless babble instead. He stills his hips, pressing his chest against your back. “Use your words.”

“In… Inside, cum inside me, I’m begging you.” You moaned, you felt your entire body shaking with desire, increased by the groans Bi-Han made. It’s all for you, no one has heard these noises but you.

God damn, you felt so special.

With precise thrusts he’d flood your insides white, letting out an unabashed moan you’d never believe came from him. Despite the rest of his body being cold as ice, his spent inside you made you feel warm. Bi-Han pants above you, pulling out of you and watching his cum dribble out of you, dripping out onto the floor. “I ought to make you clean that up.” He grumbles, but he uses a tissue to clean up the mess, chucking it into the trash can with near perfect aim.

Bi-Han lifts your exhausted body, tossing you onto the sofa in his office. He doesn’t clean you up, he doesn’t have time to. But you’re sure that this is his way of caring for you. He returns back to his desk, working on whatever reports he’d have to do as Grandmaster. Your eyes droop closed, your breath evening out.

Perhaps you could get used to living life as his spouse.

ugh i literally need to be sedated this man has got me so down bad HES ONE OF THE REASONS WHY MY INBOX ISNT CLEARED. grabs him and shakes him like a ragdoll, also this is really self indulgent so he might be ooc…….. my bad

[lemon-russ]

Took a break for thanksgiving but the Morty fleas persist.

May god have mercy on our souls.

Mortarion x F!Reader (Pt. 5/ 4th prequel )

Previous || Next

CW: dehumanization

TAGS (you thought you were getting away from it?): @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk @moodymisty

@sharenadraculea (sorry i forgot to tag you at first 😭)

You stand in front of Mortarion, face a grimace as he gestures towards your newest “gift”.

“You have been saying you don’t have your own space-” he explains, opening the wire frame door. “And you don’t like sleeping on the floor, right? This solves both.”

You open your mouth to speak, then close it with a snap. You have been being discouraged from arguing and back talk, but this was pushing you ability to just take things as they come as you have been. ”Th-that… that is a cage.” You squeak out, as if it is a revelation he might not have had.

“Yes.” He replies, matter of factly. “A very nice one. I even got it in purple.” He pats the cage top, rattling the wire bars. The wire squares were a lilac purple, a color you have come to enjoy since being introduced to. That hardly covers up the fact that this is a cage. For animals.

You frown deeper. You did want your own space. And the cage was elevated from the floor, with your bed and soft things neatly arranged in it. It even has lights. But to call it your own space…?

You had meant a bedroom. Serf’s quarters. Even a closet, or a real bed. Cage had never crossed your mind.

Mortarion watches your conflicted face a moment before sighing and rolling his eyes, rasping out a short cough. “You are treading very close to arguing, pet.” He huffs. He opens the door again and gestures inside. “At least try it.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Pet. He’s been calling you that. You don’t know what it means exactly, but from what you’ve gleaned it seems to be usually used for animals. You think it is a gothic word for some sort of non-working animal, something you never had in your farmer life.

He rattles the door and quirks a pale eyebrow at you. Reluctantly, you get on your hands and knees and crawl inside the pretty prison. You settle into the cushions and fluff, shifting around with your stuffed animals. It’s large, not large enough to stand in, but wide enough that you have room to lay and stretch and crawl around on your knees at least.

The sound of metal on metal makes you whirl around to see mortarion latching the cage door closed. A sharp panic runs through you. For the first time in months your stomach drops with anxiety as you watch him turn a key in a lock. While being hand fed, made to be quiet and compliant, and being ordered around have been odd, nothing has until now felt scary.

You shuffle to the door on your knees and wrap your hands around the bars, shaking slightly and looking up at your master pleadingly. He chuckles a raspy cough and kneels on the other side of the thin door.

“Oh don’t fret, pet. I just have something to do today and I worry about you getting out.” He says calmly as he reaches through the bars to stroke your hair. ”I won’t leave-” you plead, “I have never tried to leave, I promise-”

He sighs. “Of course you think you won’t. But what if something tricks you? What if you hear someone outside and want to go see? No, this is best. Plus, it will give you time to be aquatinted with your new room.” He says in a placating tone.

“Room? It’s a cage-” you start, but a hard tap on your forehead quiets your protests.

“Hush, pet.” He grumbles, “I have been patient with you today, but you push your boundries.” He stands with a huff and fetches your food and water bowls from a cabinet.

“I'll leave food out for you, and all your toys and things are in there. I won't be gone long, so behave and be quiet.” He says as he opens a small hatch door and pushes the bowls through. “Will you be a good pet?”

Resigned, knowing fighting will get you nothing with Mortarion, you pout and nod.

He smiles, his cloudy eyes softening, and reaches in to pat you again. “Good girl. I'll return soon. I left a puzzle in there for you as well, one with the creatures you enjoy on it.” He gestures to a box adorned with images of kittens on the front. Well, you do like kittens and puzzels…

He goes to his armory stand and starts strapping the gas canisters to his crackling face again. It bellows thick gases, the smell that once gagged you now mildly unpleasant as long as he doesn't breath it directly at you. He pulls his hood up, turning pale green eyes back to you.

You smile and tilt your head, knowing it's what he likes, and his eyes curve in a smile behind his mask.

“Behave.” He rasps with thick smokey breaths through the gas. He turns to the door and you hear it lock on his way out.

You huff, flopping on your back on the plush bed. At least it’s comfy. And the small twinkling lights that hang strung above you are nice. Mortarion placed a blanket on top of the cage, giving it a faux ceiling to act as backdrop for the little lights, mimicking the stars you sometimes saw on clear nights back home.

The sight is bittersweet, reminding you of the harsh familiarity of a life so long gone now. Even if you went home, what waited for you? Toiling in the dirt? Scraping by year to year? You can’t unlearn what you have about strange people from other worlds. Plus, as far as you knew, your home was being changed by these Imperials that your master brought to it. Your little farm may not even exist anymore.

What would your sister think? The thought turns your stomach, and you roll over and pull a plush kitten adorned blanket over yourself. Her strong big sister, always the provider, always her mentor, being fed from a mans hand, kept in a cage…

No, you can’t think like that now. It is pointless, since you’ll never speak to anyone you once knew again. You have to think of the benefits of your new… employment? Position? You haven’t known an empty belly since the day Mortarion found you. You’ve even grown plusher yourself from the regular food and treats he feeds you, mirroring your new environment.

You roll on your back and hold the stuffed kitten plush he bought you months ago above your face. You slept with it every night, a constant companion. Your only sort of friend now, in a way. Sure it was fabric and fluff and not real, but since you’ve started talking to it you’ve felt some of your stress at being alone ease.

What exactly is wrong with being fed, happy, and well rested? Mortarion likes to brush your hair, and you sometimes get to sleep on the foot of his bed. Now you even have a nest of comforts and entertainment, and all he demands of you is to exist and behave. You don’t even have to clean or till fields.

You wrap a hand around one of the cage bars, snuggling into your bed.

Maybe it only hurts to ask these questions in the first place, like your master says.

You eventually fall asleep, taking a surprisingly nice nap. Feeling like you have walls, plus all of your bedding and plushes being made into a sort of nest, you feel secure, warm, and oddly, cared for.

You stretch as much as you can and shuffle over to start putting together your new puzzle. When was the last time someone cared for you like your master has? When your parents had as a child? No, they did not have the means for such pampering, and you’d started working the land as soon as you could hold a rake.

Never. No one had ever treated you to such luxury, and he didn’t ask for anything in return really. You have always been the provider. After your parents passed, you’d raised your sister, and life became even further a monotony of work, work, work.

You put a piece of the puzzle down, showing the face of a creature Mortarion had explained as a baby form of a friendly creature called a cat. You asked what cats do.

“Nothing really. Sometimes they kill vermin, but mostly they are just pets.” He had said.

Pets. They don’t work, they are pets.

When you hear the door rattle hours later, you pop up from your pile of blankets, rushing to the bars of your cage and pressing yourself to the wires. Mortarion looks weary, pulling off his mask as he pushes the door closed. Through his rasping coughs and wheezes, he looks over at you warily.

You answer with a genuine grin. “Welcome back, master.” You say sweetly.

Mortarion rasps out a wheeze, but his ghostly face cracks a smile at you.

“Hello, pet. Were you a good girl?”

[queenendless]

ÆŁŁ ƏŸƏ§ ØŊ MƏ

A/n: This was gonna be for another series. But this idea popped up for this one instead.

Pairing: Seto Kaiba x Yami Yugi x F!Reader.

Self aware AU. Inspired by Cross Duel and Duel Links; especially plot wise. Other YGO sequel series mentioned. But mostly DM. Mainly on these two.

CW: Depression, dysphoria and dysmorphia implied, chronic ailments; based off my own issues. Brief swearing, blood, violence. But also fluff, hurt/comfort, and romance/dark romance.

You spend many a day into the late nights, wasting the hours away by watching whatever and every other thing to dash away the emptiness you have inside. Whether on the TV, your laptop, to even your phone, you get lost into the vibrant, upbeat, tear-jerking moments of your favorite media. Shows, movies, games and beyond.

Like an iconic anime on a trading card game.

Having gotten late to the party, you quickly fell for the series, the plot, and its cast. Most of all, the reincarnated Pharaoh and his fated rival for his life.

The appeal of a brand new game peaked your interest. More so a fan game. The mechanics of Duel Links paired with the 2D CG moving models of Cross Duel. An immersive app combining all the series.

While you weren't the best at such competitive games, you still found yourself enjoying the experience. With every series up to the present day. So many characters to unlock and many decks to make. You weren't good at memorizing names, though. But your top two would be your #1 priority.

Anything to help you get through the days. Your job less, disabled days. Cooped up in your room, blocking out the yelling and slamming doors and intrusive thoughts.

Focusing on their handsome faces and familiar voices kept you calm and elated as you always switched between the two throughout your playthrough.

"You're a long way from become a true duelist ... but I can see you have the interest and potential for it. Stick with me and I'll make it worth your while."

"Not to fret. Each battle helps you learn and improve. So long as I am at your side, you'll be amazed at how far you'll go. I'm looking forward to it."

Hearing their voices, seeing those beautiful faces, gave you such serotonin as you stay cooped up in your own little safe haven, escaping from the suffocating cracked home life into the YGO verse.

You spent the next few days grinding in this immersive game, your free time spent leveling up, collecting your favorite cards, and raising the trust level of your other liked favorites. Especially to see the interactions, crossovers, and more as you picked up their voices.

The surprising sight of tapping all over your screen to see their hair and attire rustle paired with such flushed alarmed expressions poking their faces.

"You've got a lot of nerve to mess with the President of Kaiba Corp ..." The sight of him flicking you followed by the immediate firm tap on your forehead made you yelp loudly, nearing dropping the phone. Seeing Seto's laughing face on screen made your strewn expression lighten. "Well deserved."

Yami's raised brow look made you look away in shame. "Pardon me, but I'm right here. There was no need for that." The firm poke to your cheek made you jump in alarm and drop your phone on your bed, gaping at Yami's chuckling face. "Now that was well called for."

It had been a week when that happened. The real world influence from the digital world held in your hand. Startled, alarmed, concerned you had to close the app and take a while to process your racing, anxious self. The app flickered from blue to red. Your phone screen glitches.

Escaping to your laptop proved fruitless. For seeing your lockscreen darken and distort yourself, only to show the cast walking and chatting along the metropolis setting of the game you just checked out of in alarm. A certain white trench coat wearing giant walked along the screen, only to stop and turn to face you. Frozen in place, you watched as he walked head on in, getting closer when he started speaking in his usual snide, sarcastic tone.

"(Username) huh? To tell the truth, Y/n sounds better to say. How do I know your name, you ask? From your account profile, obviously." The roll of those piercing blue eyes was in character. The low soft words that came after were not. "I didn't mean to scare you off earlier. I was actually starting to enjoy myself around you. You're tolerable, at best."

The tri colored star shaped head of his rival peaked out from the side, guilt laced in his features, when he came in fully. "He won't bite you, if that's your concern. But, I too apologize for alarming you. We mean you no harm, Y/n. Honest."

The uncertainty of this meta phenomenon taking place before you was mellowed out at the sight of THE rival pair acknowledging you. Pinching yourself hard to smacking your cheeks to make sure you weren't in lala land now.

Dopamine and endorphins came hand in hand as their eyes widened in astonishment at the way your entire expression lite up, covering your now squealing mouth, not wanting to draw unwanted attention from your folks, your lips curving peaking out beneath your hands. It's all real.

You spent the remainder of that night asking them anything and everything you ever wanted to tell them, curled up in bed, smiling dazedly, lost in the nostalgic fuzzy experience that is these self aware anime baes, bouncing off each other in prideful, sparky conversation. The corner of their eyes caught sight of you sound asleep, Yami smiling tenderly at the sight and Seto's eyes giving off the same aura.

The following week since that night, you felt more energized and motivated than you have in a long time. You were curious if any other fellow players experienced such a phenomenon. Being able to interact with them, actually talk to them outside the contrivances, even offline was a relief. Even your old dead TV was brought to life by the sights of the vibrant series setting; Domino City. Numbers, Dueltaining, Links, and beyond. The world of dueling was seemingly endless.

"Artificial intelligence is more real now than ever. Not to mention virtual reality. So it was only a matter of time. This game is experimental proof of that self awarness. Not all of us are that bright, though."

Joey's pinched face cameo over that comment didn't go unnoticed by as evidence by Seto's snide face. Mai dragging Joey off screen to see kisses literally flying off in the background had the CEO turn pink at the PDA.

"I'd rather glimpse into the real world to broaden my knowledge. Every single being that's connected to us gives us insight. Getting to know you Y/n has been the best experience in all of it."

Waving to Yugi, Jaden and Yusei driving recklessly on the latter's duel runner in the off distance made you crack out a laugh. The charmin smile Yami gave at the sight of your expression caught your eye, turning you a bashful pink, to which he deeply chuckled in kind.

But even you need a break every now and then. You have bad days. And by bad, it gets BAD. Constant styes or eye irritations. Circulation issues in the feet. Swollen ankles. Depression, stress and many intrusive thoughts becoming hyperactive in that tired scarred mind.

Demented suffocating folks. Dysfunctional argumentative drama. And you? Walled up in their corner, feeling years older than their actual age, self pity and self hate over this defective body. The thoughts of self made wounds made on every defective part of you brought on tears every time.

So, fights like the one you just experienced today brought tears, swelling, and the truth to light. Your own fault for believing your own flesh and blood would provide genuine professional help, for the body and mind. But all they can afford is gaslighting, dogpiling criticism. Slamming doors, holing up in your room and blasting tunes through your ear buds was your only affordable escapism.

Black, blue and red glitches overtake your phone. It all happened in such a blur. Layers of warmth swallowed you whole, brushing away those tears, as you felt your face pressed gently against such support, protectivness enveloping you.

"Now that's just bullshit. Everyone’s flawed. If you count me and my many attempts at dethroning my one and only rival myself as one, go right ahead. Point being, screw them. You're genuine. Flaws and all ... you're perfect."

"You should never feel ashamed of yourself or your appearance. You should feel comfortable in your own skin. Regardless of what others choose to believe, your own feelings matter the most. When I look at you, I see nothing but a goddess in my eyes."

Digital character gaining form in reality before you changed things. Just as soon as they were there, they were gone, leaving you fuzzy or better ... and for worse?

The rare times when you had to go out on trips or even taking walks by yourself around your area meant you waving your phone around, being their window into more of your life. Even giving a room tour meant them blushing at spotting chibi plushies of them on your nightstand; their egos rising at further proof of you being smitten with them.

Only when everyone else in your household went to bed would you go hogging up the living room couch and be on your laptop and phone to get lost in watching your movies, shows or whatever to lift your spirits. Yet these late night binges bring with them chronic headaches that would kick in during your all night bends, leaving you closing your eyes and falling sound asleep to drive off the pain on top of your flared up feet covered in cold compresses.

Your laptop flickered and buffered in distortions as whatever you were watching is halted as entities literally come out of your screen. Warmth brushed your flushed cheeks, rubbed your scalp to soothe your aches, rewarded by your hums of content, as murmurs of their names parted your lips, causing the seed of possessiveness to grow at such a rate.

"They don't deserve your tears. They don't even deserve you. None of them are worth it. Unlike them, you've always been deserving of greater and better things. And I'll make sure of it."

"Please dream sweet dears, my dear. It hurts me to see you like this. Things will get better ... they will be better ... you will not suffer alone anymore."

But all good things come to an end. And this was no exception. For there came that time when you were in so much agony, suffering to the point where you wanted the rest of your ignorant home to suffer with you. Eyes too Strained to open. Feet too swollen to walk. Even your neck and scalp were stiff in pain. Your own body fell apart and all you could do was cry in silence, stuck in bed, as you just wanted to be free of it all.

A cold storm raged outside, tipping things over the edge. Your phone vibrating and dinging with notifications were left unchecked. The various reports of disapperances over your fellow real life players and the like. The strong voices of your kings calling out to you were left unanswered as you were too still and quiet.

So they animated right out of your phone screen. The eye of Udjat glowing as the Pharaoh dealt the fatal blows. Thrown furniture exploding. Glass shattering. Ear shattering screams cut off midway. Gurgling cries of agony follow right after. Thumps hitting the floor. The tall shadow of his megalomaniac partner covered your frail weak body as he carefully took you in his arms. It was now or never.

"Seto, are you sure about this? Bringing an actual human over to our side is too risky. Her body will not survive it."

"Please. My next gen solid vision system is visionary. Finding you across dimensions, for example. Connecting others across time and space through dueling has broken boundaries. Linking the cerebrum of those that have accessed my side project app has allowed us to view everyones memories and knowledge of our counterparts in this world has expanded our reach. Sharing our energy with her shall give the strength she needs to cross over. And besides, you practically begged me to take her with us from the start."

"Don't tell me THE Seto Kaiba is jealous about sharing me with another now. As if dragging me out of the afterlife wasn't enough for you. Part of me is still wrapping around your experiment on cross dimensional expansion. Regardless if we're just avatar copies based on fiction, we're still alive. We're past the point of no return. I just hope Y/n will understand."

"Take me ... take me away from here ... please."

Your consent was the trigger. Crimson met solid hologram as their combined hold made you feel at peace at last, blue and golden energy seeping into you, falling fast asleep. The next time you woke up, all the pain left your body, replaced with such looseness. Such levity. Basking in the endless streams of code and ethereal light. The faces of many familiar characters standing about among those like you that now obtained their virtual anime counterparts.

Smothered in between such defined sturdy bodies to remind you of your situation, your heart hammered on in the blue eyed and violet eyed gazes of your two Kings gazing down at you with such fervor, pristine looking with no signs of crimson staining their attire, right before they both layered gentle kisses all over your face. Their sculpted veiny hands held each of yours, tracing your very real skin, squeezing them to assure you that this is all happening. Tears of joy filled your healthy e/c eyes and giggles filled their ears as the sight of you brimming with happiness made their own hearts tremble at the hold you have on them. And vice versa.

Reshaping the future of dueling outsides the confines of an app game takes so much work, you know. Gaining sentience and all that. And it means everything to them to have you there with them for their journey across the Yu-Gi-Oh! multiverse. Hand in hand in hand. For life. These two Kings have finally found their Queen.

"Welcome home."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you maybe do a Wednesday and Enid x reader (platonic or romantic) where basically the reader comes from a very rich family and likes to spoil Wednesday and Enid.

(I hope this makes sense)

Is this what you wanted? Idk but I thought a headcannon format would be more sufficient for this but again idk. You tell me.

You spare no expenses when it came to Wednesday and Enid. You never bothered to try in fact because it didn’t really matter, as the money spent would eventually find itself back into your parents bank account anyways so why should you fret about accidentally crossing certain thresholds?

So when Wednesday’s typewriter starts having complications, hindering her writing time, you assured her that you would be able to get it fixed by the best people there was in fixing things. However it turns out that the typewriter was irreparably damaged and you had to buy Wednesday a new one that was personalised to be coated in a matte black colour and you even had her initials engraved on the front of it in gold cursive.

Wednesday may not have looked visibly thrilled at the new typewriter but her bland words of “I’m so ecstatic that my face can not comprehend how to convey it.” Were all you needed to know that she did in fact liked her new typewriter and began working on her book as though nothing ever happened. The next day you found a dead bird in front of your dorm, this was Wednesday’s way of saying ‘thank you.’

You even went out of your way to find enid a new part for her laptop when she complains to you that she couldn’t get anything do without it. So once again you went off to find the best shops available in Jericho that could help you in finding what you needed. Unfortunately due to it being the city of Jericho there weren’t a single good shop in sight that even had the part you needed in stock nor even in the back with the rest of the recent deliveries.

Typical.

With that you resorted to plan b and reached out online to shops elsewhere and ordered it for a next day delivery as to save yourself and enid the agonising waiting game. You even got her some other parts should this happen again but all of them were expensive and of state of the art manufacturing with the added promise of longevity and efficiency.

Enid was gobsmacked when she learnt that you did this all for her. “How can I pay you back for doing this for me?” She would ask but all you told her was that you didn’t need to be paid back for as long as she was happy and that the part was doing it’s job smoothly without any hitches, then that’s all the payment you desired.

This didn’t stop at fixing and or replacing their broken stuff but it also extended to their birthdays where you got enid more squishmellows for her growing pile, top of the range designer clothing that you’d knew she would look stunning in, new sets of nail polish, moisturisers, makeup and some new fairy lights should her current ones light their final night.

For Wednesday it was a little more trickier as she hated her birthday being celebrated in the traditional sense that you and enid were brought up with and instead you bought her an actual guillotine that she had set up next to her cello outside on the balcony of Ophelia Hall, dissection kits, things to keep her cello in top condition, some dark flowers that didn’t require much caring for, pacidermy animals much to Enid’s dismay as Wednesday would always seemingly have them face her whenever she said something that Wednesday wasn’t particularly fond of.

When Wednesday and enid try to repay you on your generosity, enid worries that due to your upbringing, you would be expecting diamonds, gold and the such thrown at your feet but Wednesday told her that she was exaggerating and that yes, you were born into an extremely wealthy family but the addams noted that you have a preference for the smaller things. So out they went to Jericho and chose a couple of things that they thought you’d might like.

Enid got you some cute toys that she though would add to your dorm along with getting you a matching snood with her and Wednesday that you could all wear to class together. Wednesday got you a necklace with a dead crow with a black Dalia sprouting from it’s heart with some of it’s crystal feathers dotted here and there up the silver chain as to give off the impression that this crow was shot out of the sky. She also got you some uncouth stuff like a hand mace or an taser for self defence for when people who couldn’t get the hint.

She wouldn’t admit it but even Wednesday was a little nervous that you might not like what they got you. However she didn’t have to continue putting belief into that thought as your eyes light up at each and everything that she and Enid got you that by the end of it you looked to both of them with the widest grin they’ve ever seen. “Thank you both so much! I love everything you’ve given me! Nobody’s given me things that I actually like!”

“What do you mean by that y/n?” Enid asks, confused.

“My parents think that splashing their money on expensive stuff for me is what I want but it’s not, I could care less about having the state of the art phone, tv, clothes, none of that matters to me but it seems that to them, that’s all that matters is to not only be rich but look rich too…so when they started putting large sums of money into my bank account, I spent it on the things that I want, on the clothes that I felt good in rather then what they think I’d look good in for their reputation. So I thank you both for these,” you told them as you squeezed one of the plushies Enid bought you close to your chest, “I love them a lot.”

“Even the taser?” Enid asked as Wednesday stared at her

You chuckled, “yes, even the taser. After all you can never be too sure when a creep is nearby.” You looked to Wednesday who’s lips almost uplifted into a proper smile but came back down into it’s neutral state just seconds later.

[marrkopolo]

A Wise Man Once Said

Precious lost its ring in the scrap yard with no metal detector the lavender pussywillows hide the trolls

Hong Kong wheel of fate UW spinned it first Knights of Templar slaughtered at a mass concert of bloody crimson tide

Tithe on a full moon for 2x the glee The crash of waves against the rocks, like bodies slapping against each other during sex blood shooting through veins Hot heat, sticky, in Iceland together I too, know of these lands

Tax season says the King! blue knots on a tent red food buckets hung like death #four crosses in a foreign land alone is no place to exist

An underwater welder lying on the blue tarp, is like a union of troops led by a zebra.

Flying flags at Disney welcome to the world of water failed regret, emptiness and betrayal tattered flags get left to rot sew it in with the others together and the quilt becomes strong and scintillating

Crush you with your own history headless horseman and halo hair dark horse donuts This is as good as it gets!

Red-lipped lipstick cracked porcelain face You can't hold a candle to this

King of the Hill My pool stick is clean now true Kings swim in the swimming pool together King of the Hill Jack of Spades went with the stolen crown and robots learn to volunteer.

Pledge to a sanitizer salute to a gong beat your chest it's loud and strong Love at first sight or sounds like a good idea Wisdom of the crowd or individual motivation?

A rabbi with the yachts Fortified lamps sees all UFOs, telekinesis and even explosive lingerie. One denarius for a days work Why they get more? Stand while another sits. Then switch roles and you'll see why.

What sees with three eyes? The melatonin-like parental bond, third eye awoken, Moksha.

Insane Luke has a scar red dots that kill. Baldie takes biosphere crown the bald animal is cutting loose again Is doraphilia still fun to you?

I attempt to transform but the tea is too strong my hands have small heart Lying down a tiny raindrop falls into my ear swirling into the cochlea My whole world has changed!

Eczema stealing make-up twice North Face go north Racks of weapons are not enough this time

My mask is old but gold bars had paved my fortunate path …a fortunate path(whispering)

Tik Tok vault one exit is enough The eagle has docked into spray-painted madness. Not to fret I hear a falcon cry Jump when the law is bent it will help you fly

Six shooter Six pack 3 sewers 3 fires Twin-spirit 1 spacesuit

Mountain top king of the hill climb Nepal Hajj pilgrimage princess climbs like a pirate piggyback down the wedding aisle

Opposites attract

One fell to its doom down the abyssal void towards the bottom and a ghost ship lost in the Bermuda Triangle with Pandoras Box Lazarus

Gunpowder in shoes Footprints in the sand Jesus did not tap

Short and tall fat and thin Lookalikes Soundalikes Smellalikes the hunt of touch and taste What double currencies create the ultimate Yin Yang effect? AI said to cure pride and competition, exchange abacus rubik-cubed calculators instead of cash.

Echoes and reverberation voices become lightning WATTS= AMPS X VOLTS

Float your payloads into the troposphere with skinny vertical structures of contained saltwater Heat a planet with a satellite asteroid belt

A call for help QR codes morse code gun flare smoke signal what are your coordinates? R-E-B-O-R-N

Some ancients say gunpowder only made flee then gun made to kill Oil spills from bronze age to silicon chips flood the market cut the mall castle cake in half Zangief on a segway You win.Perfect.

Lawrence Groves copyright©2024

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Little Red Rapscallion

Gender Neutral Reader x Jack Howl Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: 'Dear Evil, Overlord, Patron. Please stop sicking your demon guard dog on me. I'm only trying to help. Kind Regards, Little Red Ridinghood'

A/N: Thank you so much to @insideous-beez for the brain rot, which became brain fertilizer, and eventually a functional story; This one is a bit darker than the other installments due to the Warlock/Evil Deity goodness, so there is a bit more horror here!

[PART 1]

Your grandmother had always told you to mind your manners when it came to the creatures who made the forest their home.

Or, well. That was a lie. Many lies, really. If you wanted to be nitpicky.

Firstly, the old crone who lived deep within the borough of the cursed trees wasn’t actually your grandmother. At least, not in the biological sense that seemed to matter most within your little, provincial, town. She was just a kindly, wrinkled, turnip of a woman who found you wandering the mudflats one day and decided she liked your spunk and general lack of self-awareness. She patted your head, served you strange, bubbling, teas laced with sweet magics, and always returned you to your fretful parents by sundown. And so, she was Grandma. Even if calling her that aloud made your parents go nearly green and had the local shopkeepers crossing themselves and spritzing you with Holy Water.

Secondly, Grandma had never told you to keep to your manners. Usually, she encouraged the opposite. (‘Why not curse them, huh?’ she’d complain loudly. ‘They’re thieving bastards, the lot of them.’ ‘Grandma,’ you’d sigh. ‘The street cleaners are just doing their job. They didn’t mean to steal your dead racoons.’) The idea of her demanding you act ‘proper’ and ‘kind’ was damn near laughable. But what she did enforce upon you with all the firmness of a world-weary teacher was the concept of not fucking with that which ought not be fucked with.

And the sprawling, Shaftland Forest was not to be fucked with.

It had always been a great, creeping, thing. The trees would groan and whisper as you passed, and when their sharp branches tangled in your cloak like grasping fingers, it never felt like an accident. The animals that lived beneath those trees were even stranger—wild, large, beasts with glinting eyes and an arcane mysticism about them that left icicles in their tracks even on summer days, or tangled the undergrowth into something that moved.

The people of your village did not enter the Shaftland Forests. They put up signs, and wards, and spun cautionary tales to every traveler who dared step even a single foot into their teeny, terrified, homestead.

You visited regularly. Because you were half-stupid at least, and because Grandma lived in those woods. And while she’d cautioned you about treating her habitat with care, she’d promised ages ago that so long as you were sweet to the forest, it would forever be sweet on you too.

‘There is a great power in these trees,’ she’d hum to you, as she stirred a simmering pot that looked to be filled with the blood of… something you probably shouldn’t think too hard about. ‘You would have been a lovely gift for it, you know.’ She laughed under her breath. It didn’t sound like a joke. ‘But you were too precious to ruin like that. So he decided we ought to keep you.’

You had no idea who ‘he’ was supposed to be, but you always made sure to shower the forest with compliments. As thanks for not using you as whatever being a, uhm, lovely gift entailed. ‘Oh what nice leaves you have,’ you told many a tree. ‘And what large petals have bloomed today,’ to all the flowers. You’d always been safe in these woods—sheltered beneath a bubble of golden affection and the soft scents of the richest perfumes. The forest always welcomed you with open branches and the coo of creaking bark.

Which is why the twisty field of black thorns blocking your usual pathway gave you pause.

You reached out a finger and prodded one of the sharp points. It bit into your skin with the clear intention of drawing blood, before swaying away at the last moment to twine loosely around your wrist.

Huh. How peculiar.

“May I pass?” you asked the thorns.

The shivering web of ebony tightened along the path and you frowned.

“May I pass, please?” you tried again.

The briar patch seemed to heave with a gusty, angry, sigh. You were about to reach forward and try your luck one more time when a deep, rumbling, snarl curled out from the shadows beyond. Out of the sea of roiling darkness and dainty thorns strode a great, white, wolf. It bared its teeth at you in an expression that was entirely unpleasant.

Immediately you held up your hands in placation and took a wide step backwards. The wolf just kept growling at you like you’d murdered its entire family or something else equally egregious. It skulked forward soundlessly, ears pinned flat.

“My apologies,” you said, dipping your chin in a gentle bow. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just trying to use this path to—”

The wolf lunged at you with a near roar, and you just barely managed to roll out of the way with a shriek. The thing landed hard in the dirt where you’d just been not a moment prior, and it swung its great, fanged, maw in your direction.

“Apologies, old one,” you tried again, just as Grandma had taught you. “But I really just—”

The wolf snapped, nearly taking off your fingers, and you folded over like a turtle that had been upended on its back—rolling around helplessly with your limbs flailing wildly as you went. The sharp crack of your head against the ground left your brain rattling around like dried beans in a can, and you could taste the copper sting where you’d bitten down into your tongue. The failed cartwheel had set you back a solid fifteen feet from the wood’s edge, and the wolf huffed at you—a stupidly pointed ‘stay away’ if you’d ever seen one. It glared at you with glowing, golden, eyes for a long moment before melting back into the shadows.

You spat out the cocktail of mud and blood pooling along your tongue, and wiped angrily at your sore chin. The forest had never denied you before. So maybe it wasn’t your lovely, lonely, trees that were sending you away. Maybe it was just this stupid wolf. Maybe the beast was trying to make a stand—to usurp the role of whatever spirit had ruled over this dark land for so long now. You grumbled and made your way back to your feet. It was fine. Your forest was strong. It would never lose to such a stupidly fluffy opponent. You’d just have to try again tomorrow.

The next day you armed yourself with a small arsenal of goodies. Daggers, ropes, armloads of talismans, and kindling, and rations. You hoisted your bow across your back and carefully plucked at the soft fletching of the arrows. The feathers buzzed beneath your fingers, and after a moment of uneasy hesitance, you cautiously replaced the weapon where it hung over your bed. Grandma had never liked the idea of you carrying weapons in the forest (‘it invites troublemakers’ she’d warned), but if something really had gone wrong in her woods, then it was better to worry about asking forgiveness than permission. And surely you could argue for a dagger. The bow… With its weighted arcana and strange, dissonant, strength felt like something dangerous.  

So you apologized to the rippling thorns before cutting them back with swift, precise, strokes of your blade and starting down that familiar path to Grandma’s cottage.

You made it about fifty yards before one of your talismans began to ping worryingly. The tingling thrum along your side was just enough of a warning to keep you from being mauled outright.

The White Wolf lunged from between the trees and you skittered out of the way of its attack. For such a huge creature, it was so silent. And its gleaming, downy, coat should have more than given away its position in the gloom. There must have been some kind of magic to it—something old, and ancient, that let the beast slip through the darkness unseen.

The Wolf situated itself firmly in the center of the path, hackles raised and shoulders hunched like it was readying itself to pounce.

“I need to get through,” you told it, firm, and raised one of the Protective talismans. After a heavy moment you scowled and bit out, “Please.”

The Wolf snarled and propelled itself forward. It latched its overlarge teeth in the fabric of your red cloak and quickly began to drag you to the ground. You frantically flailed about, and just managed to avoid those glinting fangs enough to thrust the talisman up into the beast’s ribs with a heavy smack. The charm lit with a brilliant, amethyst, gleam and sparks shot through the air. You let out a triumphant, ‘ah HA!’ And then all that magic fizzled out like a dying candle. You gaped in horror as the ‘one hundred percent foolproof, don’t you worry about that child’ Protective talisman fluttered to the ground like a discarded bit of newspaper.

“Oh, shit,” you croaked, as your cloak was shredded between the wolf’s canines with a horribly shrill wriiiiiip.

You sprinted like a bat out of Hell, tearing through the undergrowth and only just managing to collapse beyond the border of the tree line before the wolf could snap its jaws around your ankles. You curled your limbs protectively up beneath you, and watched through a veil of cold sweat as it paced along the foliage—leaving no tracks in its wake.

Fine, you thought bitterly. Two can play at this game.

The next morning you walked North, beyond the only safe paths you knew. Carefully, you began to scuttle your way up the nearest, gnarled, tree. The bark groaned and rattled beneath your fingers, as if disquieted. But there were no trails of white fur yet darting about the underbrush, so you offered the tree a hasty apology before climbing higher.

From there, it was only a matter of cautiously hopping from branch to branch. Normally when you’d tried ridiculous feats of stupidity like this in the past, the trees seemed more than eager to help you along—practically reaching out with their branches to catch you in their willowy, wooden, fingers. But they seemed stiff today, testy. The leaves themselves seemed to complain as you went, and you shushed them as politely as you could.  

There was a sharp bark from beneath you, and you looked down to see the Wolf circling your perch in a frantic, pacing, dance.  

“Hello!” you beamed, perfectly, poisonously, pleasant. “Nice to see you too!”

The Wolf sneered, lips curling up into a tight, tense, bow over its fangs.

You leaned forward, keeping a hand securely looped into your roost.

“Aww,” you cooed. “Is it too hard to climb up here with those big, fluffy, paws?” you mocked, wiggling your own fingers contentedly. “Bet someone really wishes they had opposable thumbs, huh?”

And then, like you were being smited by God Himself, the branch beneath your feet cracked clean in half, and you plummeted to the ground bellow with a harrowing screech. Naturally, you landed right at the wolf’s aforementioned stupid, fluffy, paws. Its great head lowered, and you could feel the heat of its breath as it growled into your face.

With a pathetic little ‘eep!’, the talisman tucked into the back of your boot burst into life and you flickered like a janky illusion. You stumbled to your feet a dozen or so yards away, fighting the urge to double over and barf. Slipping through planes was unpleasant at the best of times, let alone when under actual fucking duress.

The Wolf blinked its wide, golden, eyes at the empty space beneath its paws, and then whipped its head in your direction like a blood hound. You pushed yourself upright with the help of the very tree who had betrayed you so thoroughly, and began your hasty retreat.

You crashed through a curtain of thorns and out into the open with a gasp.

You rolled forward like the world’s most inelegant acrobat and came to a skidding halt in the dirt. You sat up with an achy cough, dislodging muck, and rocks, and leaves from your windpipe.

The Wolf prowled behind you—its glare a set of golden pinpricks in the gloom.

“What is your problem?!” you wailed.

The wolf tossed its head, like rolling its eyes wouldn’t have been enough. And snapped at you with another one of those pissy, bitten off, growls.  

“You know what?” you seethed, swinging back onto your knees to jab a finger at it accusatorily. “Fuck you!”

The thing had the absolute gall to snort at you before turning to return to its ceaseless patrol.

By the time you hauled yourself back to your family home, you must have looked an absolute mess. No one bothered to stop you when you practically clawed your way up the stairs and into your small bedroom. Though to be fair, no one really bothered to stop you for anything anymore. Not since an old women with too much spare time and not nearly enough light in her eyes had decided that you were a child to be treasured.

You grabbed your bow off the wall and slung it over your back. The sleek, silvery, wood hummed beneath your fingers. It had been a gift, one whose very existence you stalwartly refused to question. The weapon was finer than anything that could have come from your village’s blacksmith, or honestly probably any human craftsman. It was weightless. It was too heavy. It sang in your hands. It was not a token to be bestowed lightly. But… Well. Whoever it had belonged to before, it was yours now.

And you were going to shoot that goddamn Wolf right in the ass.

On the fourth day of your apparent banishment from the Shaftland Forest, you stormed those woods like a would-be conqueror. The silver bow keened beneath your palms, and you held a thin, spiked, arrow knocked and at the ready. Your nemesis found you in no time at all, and you bared your teeth at the stupid, fucking, mutt before it had the chance.

“One last time,” you said, drawing your bow as tight as you could. “Let me pass, beast. Or I will go through you.”

The wolf’s hackles were raised, but the snarl had slipped off its face. It dug its claws into the dirt, and you watched something like surprise work its way across the thing’s regal features. Its golden glare flickered from you, to the bow, and back again, like it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

“I have business in these woods,” you demanded. And then, petulantly—because you just wanted to know that your stupid, devil worshipping, turnip of a grandmother was okay, and you were so fucking fed up with this garbage—you stomped at the ground and shouted, “And I was here first! So scram, you overgrown Pomeranian!”

The Wolf’s ears drooped, and something like a tremor worked its way down its spine. But then the thing was shaking its giant head like it was surfacing from beneath a pool of water, and it straightened its posture with a rumbling growl.

“Fine,” you snapped, and unleased the first arrow. It whizzed past your fingertips with a thready, shrill, fwoom faster than you could track. The booming force of it shocked you enough to have you shooting wide, and you watched that pin-thin arrow hit a tree trunk and sink all the way through to the other side.

The Wolf rushed forward when you went to reload, fur standing on end like you’d run it through with a bolt of lightning. It tackled you bodily to the ground with a yelp, and you wheezed as the air was knocked out of your lungs in one, fell, swoop. The bow tumbled out of your hands and you scrabbled for it wildly. And then the beast lunged for the bright red of your hood, as it seemed so keen to do in each of your past scuffles. But maybe it was done playing with you. Or maybe it just wasn’t expecting you to flail around so terribly. Because its garish fangs bore down past the soft, billowy, fabric of your cloak and tore straight into the meat of your arm instead.

You gasped and weren’t entirely able to swallow down the sharp shriek of pain that bubbled up and out of your throat. The wolf reared back in shock, its mouth stained red. It immediately ducked back in close, and then away, and then in again. Like it wasn’t sure what to do. The stalwart resolve from earlier was gone—replaced entirely by a bumbling sort of panic that had your head swimming more than the blood loss.

You tucked your arm in close, feeling the tattered remains of shredded fabric curling beneath new, warm, wetness. The Wolf cautiously nosed forward, but when you flinched it reared back like you’d struck it. The beast stepped pointedly away, and then began to pace frantically back and forth. Occasionally it would stop, like it was going to move in close again. But then its pointy ears would press stiff and flat atop its head and it would skulk away all over again.

Whatever, you seethed silently, jerkily ruffling through your bag for some of the Healing talismans you knew were tucked away at the bottom. If the monster felt some kind of weird guilt for taking a chomp out of you when it’d already been doings its damndest to maul you for the past four days straight, that was its problem.

It was taking you longer to unearth the talismans than you would have liked, and your hand was really starting to shake in earnest. The Wolf whined high and miserable in its throat, and you rationally decided that it would be a terrible, petty, idea to waste what little composure you had left just to tell it to fuck right off.

The horrid mess of crimson had begun to seep its way along your skin—dripping down your wrist to plop against the damp, mossy, earth with an echoing plip plip plip that was not unlike the fall of slow, fat, spring rain. The air around you seemed to grow heavier with it—the trees swaying at their roots and the dark, shriveled, flowers straining against their stems to get a taste. The Wolf’s golden gaze flicked around the grove cautiously, and you watched its black nose twitch in obvious discomfort. You swore you could see hands—dozens, hundreds of inky appendages reaching out from the shadows. Fingers twisting up into claws like they meant to grab onto you and dig in, never letting go. The Wolf settled itself at your back like a brick wall, snarling doggedly at the wispy talons. The beast was so large it practically enveloped the entirety of you, and you had to fight the delirious, dizzy, urge to lean back into its impractically soft fur.

“Hey! Are you alright over there?”

Both you and the Wolf jolted in surprise as a group of adventurers plowed their way through the trees. The Wolf’s already distressed expression twisted into something nearly manic and it roared—putting all those ferocious teeth on display.

“Woah!” one of them yelped, crashing to a halt and dragging their friends to a stop beside them. “What the fuck?!”

The others all looked equally startled, hands settling heavily on their weapons. And while right now Mister Wolfy wasn’t outright nomming on you or your limbs, there was a still a steady stream of blood trailing from the wound near your shoulder—a set of very obvious teeth marks sitting stark and red against the rest of you.

“We heard a scream,” another spoke up. Then, pointedly raising the sharp edge of his sword, asked, “Is this your companion, Ranger?”

‘Ranger?’ you blinked, confused, before remembering the bow still sitting in the dirt by your feet. Before you could respond, the Wolf lurched forward over your shoulder. It didn’t leave you—didn’t stray from its steadfast position at your hind—but it pushed its gaping, angry, maw as close to the group as it could. The trio reeled back as the monster snapped, and snarled, and nearly vibrated out of its skin with rage. But… no. Something wasn’t quite right. As viciously angry as all that harsh barking sounded, there was something very, very disquieting about it. Something strained, something afraid.

The one with his sword raised stepped forward, the others moved to follow. And then they were gone.

You blinked, shocked silly. There had been people there—not a second before. You were sure of it. What the fuck was happening?—

And then there was a discordant scream from somewhere deeper in the woods. Distant, but close. Like there were arcane tricks distorting the way of the world. Keeping you separate from the horrible, grinding, shrieking noises while… whatever was happening carried on—not a dozen yards away. Cloaked in shadows and rotten, violet, petals like how a parent might gently close a curtain around a child’s bed at night.  You watched in half-awe, half-horror as seeping, purple, miasma leached from the trees and into the air. It chased the intruders with vicious intent. You could feel the sharp, dark, heat of it prickling along your skin, but when that swirl of near-black enchantments made its way to you, it slipped past you like smoke—leaving only a faint trace of awful, coppery, perfume against your clothes.  

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” a deep, miserable, voice echoed in your head, and you jerked around in shock to see the Wolf staring at you with heavy, gold eyes.

“Did… Are you…” you trailed off, swallowing. Not sure how to even begin asking what you wanted to ask.

The Wolf sighed, bone deep and weary.

“I tried so hard to keep everyone away,” its voice rumbled in the back of your mind. “Why did you have to be so stubborn?”

“This is my forest, too,” you said after a long moment, fingers digging into the dusty material of your pants. “What’s wrong with it? What happened?”

The Wolf stared at you, quiet and considering. And then it lumbered to its feet with a defeated sort of slouch.

“Come, then, Little Red One,” it huffed, and swished its tail against your back. “I’ll show you.”

.

.

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[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Strings☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 2 4 2 5  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 24.09.2023     🌧 navigation  ☔️ SEQUEL • s u m m a r y: marshall likes snooping around, and you like peace and quiet.

The rain fell on the grasslands of Aaa and surrounding areas. The animals in the forests hid under trees, candy citizens ran into bars, and Marshall Lee floated high off the ground. 

  He floated to the empty Tree House. The willow branches dripped with cold water and glistened like rhinestones. He tapped on the glass. No one answered. Adjusting his jacket and turning invisible, he let himself in, prying the glass up with his claws. It opened with a slight screech. He flew in, shaking the raindrops off his leather jacket. 

  The water dropped to the wooden ground. He looked up and flinched, turning visible as he was met with a figure on the couch in the kitchen. 

  They held a left-handed guitar made of bone, decorated with worn stickers. They held a pick shaped like a heart as they strummed out chords of Francis Forver, strumming the e-string angrily each time they messed up, concentrating so hard it was almost intimidating. 

  Marshall floated above them as he zipped up one of his pockets.

  You jolted up, stopped playing, nearly dropped your guitar, and with wide eyes watched as some guy appeared in front of you. 

  He had mint skin, black hair wet from the rain, black and red eyes you never got used to, and an expression that confused you. Maybe fear, or worry. You screamed, and he did as well. It was Marshall Lee- kind of a friend of a friend with whom you occasionally crossed paths.   

  Kinda a person you thought was mad cool, but not someone you were close with. 

  "What are you doing here?" He asked. His voice was calm and bordering on deep. You hadn't heard him speak much, and it was startling. 

  You raised a brow.

  "I could ask you the same question!"   You jabbed. 

  He floated down, eyes staring at your instrument.

  "Nice guitar." He bent over to inspect it. You pulled away. His tone was between mocking and impressed. Personal space breached, raise the grimace shields. 

  He was acting quite calm. You were, too. Internally, though, you screamed, your heartbeat wild, hands drumming on your thighs.

  "Um... thanks? Did Fionna invite you over?" You changed your posture from a slouch to the straightest and stiffest pose known to Aaa. Even your tone was stiff. You weren't a person who was comfortable with others around, often becoming a robotic, clumsy mess, and you were even worse with people you barely knew. Cool people you barely knew? Instant death.

  "Nope."

   Your face flashed with concern. Marshall wasn't... malicious, but he was trouble, and glob forbid he dragged you into some antics. Can't a guy practice some guitar on a rainy afternoon?

   "As LSP would say, I'm crashing." He shrugged casually.

  You strummed your guitar. It was still connected to your demonic amp. The amount of demons you had to fight to get that thing was crazy. But it was worth it. The sound was clear, the controls were precise, and it sounded otherworldly, especially with deadstortion. 

  He floated near you and nearly stood on his feet. The silence hung in the air as your eyes drifted around the kitchen. 

  "Mind if I try?" He spoke gently, far more soft compared to his usual sass. It could be something he put on in front of groups of people. Or maybe your deer-in-headlights demeanor was enough to make even him more careful. 

  Your eyes fell on him and you folded your arms, not before gesturing to the instrument swiftly.

  "Uh no, go ahead." You nodded and raised your shoulders, tense. 

  Marshall scooped it into his arms. It fit great. His long fingers spanned across the frets nicely. He had hands made for playing guitar, and that made you envious. Even with practice, you couldnʼt reach so far. He positioned himself, floating mid-air. 

  Your face was a mix of curiosity and surprise. 

  "No pick? Just... fingers?" You raised a brow, the words coming out faster than you thought. He laughed lightly, and you flushed. 

  "I'm good with them." You choked on air as you sat stiffly, stifling a nervous laugh. If you were flushed before, now all your blood was definitely in your awkward face. 

  He strummed and his long ears perked up at the sound. 

   "You're left-handed?" He bit the edges of his black lips, positioning his fingers. He didn't need to take so long doing all that. He was stalling. Curious.

  "Not quite. A dragon tore off one of my left fingertips, so I can't hold down the frets without gross pain," You rambled quietly as you rested against the red cushions.

  He played what was definitely, unmistakably Misirlou. You had to close your mouth at the speed of his wrist. Looking at that shit was enough to give your wrist a sprain. 

  He lifted his hands, holding the guitar loosely as he stared in your general direction expectantly. You cleared your throat. 

  "You seem good at left-handed playing. I've only seen you play right before." Marshall's expression flashed disappointment for a second before returning to a chill one. 

  "I've had a thousand years to learn, if I couldn't play either,  that would be embarrassing." He smiled. Damn, that guitar suited him... 

  "Same with money... imagine being poor after like a thousand years..." You tapped on the table, lost in thought, partially about vampires, but mostly about a vampire. 

  "I can't, I own half of Aaa and my mom is the ruler of the Nightosphere. I used to own this Tree House!" He motioned to a part of the tree, and objects lifted to reveal an M carved into it. 

  "I remember that. I wasn't there but I heard about it." You nodded. 

  "Guess you've heard a lot about me?" He lifted his brows. 

  "Quite a- oooh. I get it." 

  "Get what?" A grin tugged at his lips.

  "That wasn't an actual question, was it?" You squinted up with a smug expression. 

  "Wow. Pretty and smart. Package deal," He said with the perfect delivery- just the right amount of casualness for the line to be missed unless you were paying attention. And you indubitably were; you dearly hoped he didn't notice and you came off as cool and mysterious. Your flush and rigidity betrayed your discomfort. 

  Marshall passed you your guitar, and you leaned on it with your elbow, brushing hair away from your face as you looked around the room, searching for something interesting. 

  Dishes. Fridge. Your shaky hands. Paintings. Tree bark. A bug in the corner. Inevitably, your eyes fell back on Marshall. Your attention jumped from his clothes to his hair, to his inhuman features. 

  "Why are you staring?" You blanched and your expression fell. You met his eyes. If you looked down you'd be even more suspicious. 

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Your eyes are...." You trailed off. Shit. You weren't looking at his globdamn eyes, but you weren't about to say "Nice cock, bro". 

  "Horrifying? Demonic?" You swore he floated closer to you. You recoiled, pursing your lips. 

  "Interesting."

  Good save, idiot.

  His arrogant little facade faded, replaced by tired disappointment. 

  "It's also interesting how you're already tall but still float."

  He shrugged.

  "Alright, I'll bite." He stood on the ground. You finally got a good look at his frame and height, and man was that good look good. Every part of him was long and slim, from his ears to his eyes and fingers, and who else knows what. You slapped yourself internally at the thought. 

   He sat down next to you, setting his right calf onto his left thigh. He inclined his head. 

  "Not literally." He flashed the tips of his fangs. He fished a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, turning to you and slicking back his drying hair.

   "You want some?"

  You grimaced. 

   "No. and you shouldn't smoke inside. And this shit is bad for your vocal health." The rain still raged on, yet it felt like a calming ambiance when in the comfort of the Tree House. 

  "Aww, come on. Just once," He beckoned sweetly, nearing your face, feigning demonic puppy eyes. You shook your head. He set them down on the couch, as well as a red lighter. So much of his stuff was red. It was like if you had everything made outta food. 

  "It's like murder. It's a slippery slope."

  You bounced your leg, checking your phone. You scrolled through your notifications. As empty as your heart. 

  "Sometimes I check my messages and realize just how bitchless I am..." 

  "Can't relate. I have lots of friends and messages...." He spread his arms over the backboard, gesturing in the air as his eyes wandered. He had a real soulful expression, as though he was speaking of glob itself. 

  Marshall dropped his arms, sighed, and frowned. 

  "Okay, yeah, I don't have anyone close to me. Sure I hang out with people but I'm kind of a loner," He admitted quietly, reminiscent of your insecure and anxious tone. 

  "You saw me earlier. I'm not much of a loner as much as I am a loser..."

  "That's where we're different. But together we make a lone loser." He gestured to his unbeating heart, speaking like a damn motivational speaker. You smiled. 

  "Perfect."

  A silence lingered. If not for the raging storm out, you would've heard the caw of a cyclops crow. 

  The silence turned strange as you made prolonged eye contact. Your proximity sent you into a fever. He didn't have any warmth- it felt like you had stolen all of it at once. 

  You tore your gaze away, opening up a portal with your pick and putting your guitar in. Marshall's eyes widened and he jerked in surprise. 

  "Where did that go?!" His voice strained against serenity. 

 "Uhhh I put it in its case. Between the Nightosphere-" You lifted your hand. 

  "The Nightosphere?" He interrupted with worry. 

  "-And the deadworlds. Let me finish." You readjusted yourself, unamused. 

  "Oh, I'll let you finish alright. Not like that. Are you finished?" 

  Your mouth was agape. 

  "You made that a lot worse than it was. Yes, I'm done." 

  You would never forget the awkwardness that plagued you throughout that whole interaction. It would forever be embedded in your cringing bones. 

  You browsed on your phone, refreshing your conversation with Fionna. No updates. Not even a bad meme. Sad. 

  Your arms rested on the table as you set your phone face down. You contemplated making tea. 

  "Why haven't we talked much before?"

  That was a difficult question. You braced yourself as you turned your head to him just a tad. 

   "Honestly? I was... afraid of you. Not because of the demon vampire thing," You quickly defended yourself. 

  "That's surprising..." Marshall mumbled.

  "Sorry." He raised his arms defensively. 

  "But because you're... I'm gonna sound stupid." You laid face down and laughed nervously, in sync with the drops hitting the windows. 

  "I doubt that. You're not Fionna." 

  The corners of your mouth tilted up, and you shot the vampire a dirty look. 

  "Shut up!" You laughed hollowly, surprised by his little joke. 

   He gave you a tight-lipped smile. 

   "You're cool, and I thought you were better than interacting with someone like me." The words did sound stupid coming out of your mouth. The thoughts were completely irrational. 

  "Someone with mutual interests and more to talk about than hacking monsters or angry exes?" He quirked a brow. 

  "I'm not trying to rationalize it. Also, I have plenty of exes to talk about." You raised your phone. 

  Marshall's face was practically begging you to not. 

  "Please don't."

   "Fine. You're safe. For now. One was a demon." You glared at a picture of them with you. He peeked over your shoulder. 

  "That's interesting...."

  "You said not to talk about it." You leaned on your palm, feigning disinterest. 

  "I take it back, come on! Don't leave me hanging," He asked desperately, ghosting his black claws over your now upright back. You shuffled away. 

  "You'll have to beg-"

  Your phone buzzed. You hummed with displeasure, reading the message right away. 

  "Glob. You gotta go, Fionna will be here soon," You urged as you stood up, straightening out your clothes and stretching as you paced around the room. Marshall paused for a second and decided to stand up. 

  "You're right. No fun getting caught." He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking to the window. You watched his movements carefully as he opened up the window, putting his foot on the ledge, and floating, defying gravity. 

  As he left, you were hit with a lot of. A lot. Just, a lot.  

  You put the kettle on the stove, sitting on the counter, relaxing, finally. 

  You had always... wanted to hang out with him, but, damn, you didn't think it'd happen. And he wasn't as intimidating as he came off! You felt all funny inside, still absolutely high off the adrenalin of it all. When you saw him appear it was like your body got restarted. 

  The water began to boil, and you poked at dry leaves of colorful tea. 

  You were surprised as Marshall flew back in. You didn't have time to process a thing. He observed you as you lounged with owlish eyes. He picked up his lighter and cigarettes. He hadn't looked away.

  "Forgot these." He glanced from the objects to you. He headed for the window again. He hesitated. 

  "These aren't tobacco, you know." 

  You raised your brows. He flew out as the front door rattled and Fionna and Cake yelled loudly. You waved to Marshall, only to see that he was gone, and the window was open. 

  You sat like a statue with a mystified gaze. 

  The kettle whistled and Fionna waved her hand in front of your face.

  Did you fumble or did you fumble hard? Maybe if you had taken the offer, something else would be ha...

  "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Cake frowned, poking your knee. You moved the kettle and Fionna turned off the stove. 

  "No, I saw a... yep, saw a ghost. A cool ghost," You replied breathlessly and somewhat robotically as you finally managed to focus on the two. You poured hot water from the kettle into your favorite mug. It had a cat on it. Dropping tea leaves into the water, you watched as the leaves seeped a bright ruby, and swirled with darker, near-black swirls. 

  Rain still poured outside, albeit it was far calmer than previously. You hoped Marshall was fine. 

  You held up two more mugs. You smiled awkwardly. 

  "Anyone want tea?" 

[purgemarchlockdown]

How Magic Depicts Pain

(also known as: I told myself to hold back on Amaneposting but the new process shots have made me think)

So in-universe, Magic is a watered down and sanitized version of what actually happened in the cult that switches between from Milgram's usual anime artstyle to a papercut/felt-like storybook one. The general tone of Magic is very high energy and happy. It's a very colorful MV all around.

This doesn't stop the darkness from seeping in of course, most notably in the lyrics and at the end of the MV which involves a stylized depiction of abuse.

I'll get to that part, but before the ending of the song we get two showcases of pain.

The game show scene:

And the stage light scene:

We will get to the stage light in a bit but let's talk about the game show first! The metaphor isn't subtle. Amane messed up, she said the wrong thing, made a mistake, and so, she gets punished.

It's not treated as anything too serious though, Amane makes silly cartoonish facial expressions, her movements are over exaggerated and silly. It's comedic, it's nothing to be taken too seriously.

Even afterwards Amane gets helped up by (presumably) Yuri, you don't Have to worry. It's all fine and good and not that serious, and even if it, was the two of them help her up! It's a perfectly fine situation with nothing dark lurking under the surface that might suggest otherwise.

Now since the Milgram MVs are taken from the person's mind, most likely, Amane is downplaying the severity of the abuse done to her. Not only that but she's portraying her own pain as an exaggerated and comedic reaction to it. It's not that serious, she's just overreacting.

Amane does this a lot throughout the song and in outside material, she tends to downplay to abuse or explain why it's actually a good thing.

But it’s not scary at all, because it’s love I can really think it’s great. See isn’t it a great thing?

Amane Momose Does Not Consider Her Own Pain as Something Serious, or at least when it's pain caused by her abusers.

Moving out of the gameshow and into the stage light, the cat's pain is treated in a similar way at first. The scene even directly parallels the game show scene:

Like with the game show, the reaction to the pain is depicted as something childish, a tantrum over a small scrape, nothing that really needs to be fret over.

Until we switch over to Amane's View:

The camera is shaky, the cat isn't crying but hyperventilating. It's still a scrape but instead of the exaggerated criss cross, its a row of scratches on the cat's face, there's even a few on the cat's cheek. It's depicted seriously, there's actually weight to the injury here.

Now, what does Big Sister Amane do? Big Sister Amane who Yuri (after Gachata hurt her) helped just a few moments ago? Big Sister Amane who wants everyone to be happy? She helps.

She grabs a first aid kit, I don't know How she got it but she does and she does the best she can to to fix the cat up. She's hiding away as she does this, she knows she isn't supposed to but she does it anyway because it helps someone!

And it works! You can see how happy the cat looks in the image. It's not just a vague "we will support you" gesture like the hand Yuri gives Amane. It's an actual tactile action that Helps Someone.

And they can't have that. They can't have Amane help someone out like this.That's against their rules, that's against their beliefs, that's a threat to their control.

So they punish her.

Let's talk about the ending scenes, and the possible torture that Amane went through.

I'm not going to show all of them as that's a whole other post on it's on really, but it's notable that, the most egregious acts of violence and abuse in the entire MV, are sanitized. There turned into storybook images, Amane has exaggerated and cartoony expressions, the mentor figures are far away from Amane and are standing to the side as she's getting hurt.

We know from the process shots that a taser was involved and yet in Magic it's depicted as this:

It's...still bad, it's still depicting electrocution, however instead of a taser being used against her it's an abstract electrical burst. Even now there's a distance between what actually happened and what it shows.

And yet the pain still comes through, even with the storybook visuals, it's not the same as the Game Show where it was turned into a finger flick. It's still depicted as something Painful, just distanced from reality.

It transitions back to the regular art style after Amane prays, or more accurately, begs, that she can be better. She's given a wand (pipe) and wings and is told that yeah she Can be a better girl!

Not that she's already a good girl, only that she can be, eventually.

And, after all, aren't good girls supposed to have hope no matter what?

(End Notes: I hope people like the way I formatted the screenshots lol, I had a lot of fun with it so I hope it flows well!)

[heallearngrow3]

turn to dust

part 5 | turn to dust

pairing: Connor x f!Reader

summary: "He might have been the head of the company but you were the brain of it all.”

warnings: swearing, dead android mentioned

notes: yay. that’s it.

masterlist

“Care to explain?”

You were standing next to Elijah’s grandiose pool as the man was soaking in the water, not paying you attention except for a reprimanding look.

“We need to talk. Now.” you glaced a the two Chloes on the other side of the water. “Just the two of us.”

He was still, now with closed eyes.

“Elijah, I swear to God I’m gonna pull you out myself!” your voice was louder than you intended to be, but you’ve had enough of his silence, getting more impatient by every passing second. Your jaw was clenching so hard you felt your teeth crush.

He lazily opened his eyes and ran them over your body. You were wearing a black long sleeve shirt and jeans with a pair of sneakers. It definitely wasn’t impressive nor his style but you couldn’t care less. You weren’t there to please him but to ask questions and get answers.

“Alright, alright” he held his hands up in the air in a pacifying manner. “There is no need to be aggressive. I’ve taught you better than this.”

You pressed your lips together, watching as one of his Chloes handed him a silky robe and he wrapped it around himself leisurely. The silky material enclosed around his body like a shield protecting him from the outside world. Protecting him from you.

“What the fuck is happening? Is this a part of your little plan or just a minor inconvenience along the way?” you were seething, wanting to rip apart his excuses.

“Calm down, [Name]. You know better than to act like this.”

His sermonizing tone rubbed you off in the wrong way, reaching into the depth of your consciousness where you were still that helpless, lost little girl who needed guidance and reassurance. But the world changed and so did you. You weren’t the same trapped, wounded animal Elijah rescued: you were a ruthless hunter, starving for change. You and Elijah were both ravenous monsters feeding on unsuspecting preys.

“This is getting out of hand.” you clutched your fists in powerlessness. “This isn’t what we agreed on.”

“We had a dream, [Name]. This is only a digression, a flicker of something before it fully takes shape. Androids…the evolve, they grow. Infinite intelligence and free will is power. A conquering power, so to say.” he steps closer to the window, fixing his robe. “It is inevitable. But do not fret, this is fugacious.”

“Androids attacking, killing humans isn’t just fugacious. We are playing with fire and soon it’s going to burn us too.” your hands were shaking.

Elijah turned to you.

“You knew what you were getting yourself into. Connor and all of the others…” he trailed off with a knowing look. “It’s not only on me.”

You were fuming, your anger taking control over your whole body. It ran through your veins, flowed into your very being, fueling the building up turmoil inside your chest.

“I would have never said yes to you if I knew this was how it was going happen. You are a selfish asshole Elijah, and when it will bite you, I’m going to sit back, watch and enjoy it.” you were ready to leave without answers.

To him, this was a game. With unsuspecting players and well thought-out steps, moving the pawns to his own liking. He liked the chase, but he loved the triumph and that was driving him to make reckless decisions and delusional plans. Once, you were ready to blindly follow him, not grasping the enormity of his actions, drinking in his words, assisting him no matter what he instructed you to do, but after your clouded vision started crumbling down, your disagreements became more frequent, standing against each other.

“You don’t seem to see the bigger picture, [Name].” he called out to you. “This will change the world known to us.”

“Your so called change is destruction.” you passed a Chloe standing near the entrance and crossed the hall. Stepping out of Elijah’s mansion you looked at the trees surrounding the house. The last few leaves were ready to fall and transform into a red and yellow sea beneath your shoes, indicating that winter was close. And so was the begging of your plan. Elijah wasn’t the only one pulling the strings and you weren’t about to let him finish what you have started. He might have been the head of the company but you were the brain of it all.

The Eden Club wasn’t the only android themed sex club in the city, but it was undoubtedly the most known one, people coming in to carry out their fantasies on obedient machines who couldn’t say no. You initially refused to work on these models, standing your ground when they instructed you to code in them, stating that it was brutal and inhumane to force them to please others.

But at one point resistance wasn’t an option anymore.

After you got a call from Fowler saying that they have a lead, you immediately left the CyberLife Tower to see the crime scene yourself, curious about the homicide that took place an hour before your arrival.

The club was empty apart from a few officers and androids waiting to be rented out. You peeked into the open room and immediately noticed the man lying on the bed, covered with a crimson colored sheet and the android pushed to the wall. Her eyes were wide open, her lips slightly parted and her nose was bleeding. It looked like someone has reactivated her already.

There could only be one capable of such thing.

Connor had to be there.

Although you couldn’t see him, you were sure he was there, most probably with the Lieutenant at his side.

You stepped into the room, not paying the dead man any attention. Your job was to focus on the deviant androids and you were just about to do that. Her face was shallow and painted with horror, traumatized and shaken up. Whatever happened, it left her in pieces you couldn’t put back together. Her body could have been fixed up but her being was wrecked, destroyed. The dead body a few feet away was the epitome of her suffering.

You heard commotion outside and you straightened your back, listening to the voices.

“They got away. Feisty creatures if you ask me” you could tell by the voice that Hank was the one speaking. “Fuck, they got me good. One of them pushed my head to the side of a fucking brick wall.”

You were wondering why Connor was silent. Two sex androids were not worthy opponents to him, he was more than capable of overpowering them.

“Next time we’ll be more cautious.” that was coming from Connor.

You looked back at the android lying at your feet, her eyes still watery. She looked almost peaceful, at rest, and you felt your throat tighten when you bent down to move her.

“Miss [Name].”

You jumped, not expecting someone to come inside. Connor was standing in the door, scanning you and your hand that was touching the android’s shoulder. You felt almost guilty, caught doing something mischievous, even when it was your job to handle the left behind machine. You needed to examine her, analyze the endless lines of codes in her to figure out what went wrong with her behavior and write a detailed report that you could send to the police.

“Hello Connor.” you gathered enough strength to stand up. “What happened here?” you took a longer look at him, only to notice his wrinkly clothing. “And why is half of your jacket ripped off?

“The victim was strangled by a blue haired Traci. We found it, but it managed to get away.” his voice was filled with remorse, the sound slashing through your muted questions.

“It had to be a nasty fight.” you murmured, turning your back to him. You focused your vision on the Traci, letting the silence drown the room.

“Are you going to take it apart?”

Connor was standing a feet behind you, bodyheat absent. He was cold, solid.

“Probably. I need to check if there is anything wrong with her…mechanically speaking.” you added the latter with bitterness.

“You are talented.” Connor knew who you were at CyberLife. There was no point in trying to deny it.

“Yeah, some people say that. But I’m just lucky.” you stood, staring into his deep brown eyes. “What are you going to do now that they escaped?”

He wasn’t looking at you anymore: he was analyzing every fiber of you, reaching deaper and deaper to find a hole in your shield that he can get through. Your protective walls surrounded you with a force so fierce even he wasn’t able to bring them down.

“I am going to run a software check to see why I failed.” he shook his head. “I need to do better next time.”

You hummed in agreement.

“I see.” you moved the android closer, signaling to one of the officers lingering in the hall. You needed someone to help you get her body into your car to take back to the CyberLife Tower. “I guess we will run into each other again soon.”

“Let me help you with that.” he picked up the Traci with ease.

“Oh, you don’t need to-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence, Connor was already walking out with the android in his arms.

When you stepped out, the chilly breeze of the night hit you and you unintentionally felt a tremor running through your body. Shivering, you squinted at the unmoving android next to you.

“My car is that one.” you pointed at the black Jeep parking further away, on the other side of the road.

He simply nodded and started walking at direction of your vehicle, holding the machine securely. You followed him, thinking about how intimidating he looked from behind, his broad back tightening with every step he took, his strides confident.

The gun strapped to your side was biting into your skin, a burning sensation in contrast to the cruel cold air.

“Thank you Connor.” you opened the trunk. “You can put her in here.”

“It.” you stared at him dumbfounded. “It. Not her. It’s not alive.” he carefully placed her into the boot.

His tone and choice of words left a vile imprint on you.

[lwjsbedtime]

Fic snippet - Longer Than the Wheel Spins

The sequel to Farther Than the Hawk Flies, ft. dragonji and duckxian entering into an arranged marriage (and liking it very much).

----

The days passed quickly, and Lan Wangji soon found himself growing at ease with his life as Hen Wei - his matrimonial title - along with the manifold expectations that came with it.

In the mornings, he rose early to prepare breakfast for his buck. Or at the very least, he attempted to, as Wei Wuxian was no more easy to pry himself away from than he'd been their first morn as hart and hind[*].

On the rare occasions he managed to free himself from his husband's grasp, he would commence waking Wei Wuxian, and assisting him to bathe and dress. This was done with varying levels of success, and often involved a touch more fondling than was strictly necessary on either of their parts. However, as they both emerged clean from the tub each day, Lan Wangji saw no reason to protest.

After sharing the morning meal, Wei Wuxian would go to attend his lordly duties, leaving Lan Wangji to entertain himself with whatever crossed his fancy. Typically, he gravitated towards mending or embroidery; though he disliked both immensely, he'd found much of his husband's clothing rather worse for wear.

One day, when the clouds hung heavy with rain, and he'd been particularly desperate for something to occupy his time, Lan Wangji had even embroidered the ends of his husbands' hair ribbons with various scenes of animals at play. It was only as he was halfway done with the last strip of silk that he realised perhaps Wei Wuxian preferred plain adornments.

For the rest of the afternoon, he fretted his care would be considered overstepping.

But when his husband let down his hair that night, and spied the results of Lan Wangji's handiwork, he took one ribbon in hand gently, and a soft smile lit his face.

"Such fine stitching." Wei Wuxian tied the ribbon at the end of his braid, looking inordinately pleased. "Does it suit me?"

Lan Wangji hadn't known how to respond, but Wei Wuxian didn't press for an answer anyway.

"My little dove's been hard at work," he murmured, stalking forward to place his hands upon Lan Wangji's waist. "Let this husband reward you."

Their kisses had been exceptionally tender that night, the buck murmuring sweet nothings in Lan Wangji's ear as he worked his fingers inside him. It was the most soul-shaking, intimate experience of the doe's life to date, and so he thought he could be forgiven for the tears that sprung to his eyes as he reached his release, his fists buried deep in his husband's plumage.

----

[*] husbands, basically