#anyway suggestions are welcome haha

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Could you make some more Lin Chung x Mystique Sonia drawings please!

You know, I actually never drew any shippy art for those two, despite shipping them hard in my head lol, so sure! Gladly actually ;3

[reallyhardy]

Sorry what’s up w the Ethan slater stuff? I know him only from your posts / SpongeBob stuff

HI HELLO please buckle in

yep -- the same guy from the spongebob musical, and my posts abut the spongebob musical.

he blew up completely and now the general public knows him as 'ariana grande's new boyfriend' - their relationship seems to have started off the back of co-starring in the upcoming wicked musical film adaptation.

it's just been like. a monkey's paw curling sort of a way for him to get catapulted to fame, as i had always really enjoyed him as a performer (as spongebob, yes, but also in the other roles i'd seen him in,) and my biggest hope back around 2017 was that he would continue in and be really successful in theatre, get a lot of broadway roles, maybe take on some existing parts i thought he'd really suit, like seymour in little shop or ogie in waitress.......... but instead he booked the role of boq from wicked in a massive hollywood film production instead, where he met ariana grande. THE ariana grande.

and then yeah. at some point, he and grande broke up with their respective partners, (slater leaving both his wife AND newborn son) jumped into a new relationship, and now the whole wider internet knows who he is but certainly not for the right reasons.

there's been speculation regarding whether or not grande and slater had cheated on their previous partners before their relationship began with various sources coming out of the woodwork saying "yes they did" and others saying "no they didn't" -- humans are all perfectly capable of making stuff up, the media especially, so i simply don't know who to trust and i admit it had completely shattered my whole good impression of him - PLUS it gave the wider internet an absolutely awful first impression of him, resulting in, yeah, the (frankly, unflattering, sometimes downright cruel) memes of him popping up on twitter and, as i discovered yesterday, in non-theatre youtubers' videos who would literally never have heard of him if not for the slater-grande romance 🥲

FULL COVERAGE of the situation as it was happening can all be found on the lovely @notasimpleslater's blog under the tag 'ozgate' if you want to delve deeper!

[pynkhues]

Hi! Random question lol but I would love to know your thought on this. the ceo of you tube recently put out a article basically saying that he believes YouTube creators should be recognized for their work in the same awards shows that traditional tv creators/actors are acknowledged . Do you agree ?

Hey! Mm, it's kind of a funny one, because I'd argue that some YouTube works already are eligible for award shows and do get nominations. The most obvious one is, of course, documentaries being eligible in the Documentary Short category at the Oscars, and here in Australia, Online / Webseries is a category at our AFI/AACTA Awards, which is our most major awarding body for Film and TV.

The thing about awards eligibility for most of these things is that you either a) have to have screened at a festival (particularly for the Oscar shorts categories, there are festivals all over the world that basically put you into the pool for nomination. Here in Australia, most of our major film festivals such as Melbourne International Film Festival are Oscar qualifiers, but even some of our smaller ones such as St Kilda Short Film Festival are too) or b) have to have screened in a certain way within a certain period of time. Again, for the Oscars, feature films have to have had a theatrical release, which is why you see Netflix doing those short windows for movies they want to put into the running, or for things like the Emmys, shows have to have aired a percentage of episodes via cable or 'invitation-only websites' (aka your major streamers) within a certain window.

Most of the documentary shorts will end up primarily for YouTube, but they're usually a production of a legitimate news outlet which is held to legitimate industry standards i.e. last year, two of the nominees were Island in Between which had been made by The New York Times, and Barber of Little Rock which had been produced by The New Yorker, both for their YouTube channels (and both are worth the watch!).

But yes, the nature of them being legitimate news outlets with real, and guild/union-supported productions, is that there's professional oversight that meets an industry standard that has been agreed upon.

The problem with a blanket statement like that one from the YouTube CEO is that it sounds a lot simpler than it is. YouTube is not a traditional network or even a streamer in the way something like Netflix or Disney+ is. Hell, I wouldn't even actually say it's a streamer at all - it's a social media platform built on the back of user-generated content. The nature of that is that yeah, you'll get some great, professional stuff on there, and that stuff can be recognised in myriad ways, but YouTube as a platform also exists almost entirely outside of a heavily unionised industry (as we were reminded last year with the strikes) that relies on professional agreements to ensure the survival of the industry and the safety of its workers.

YouTube is not itself bound to any of that, which leaves room for exploitation, a dilution of professional standards if not a complete rejection of them, no award rates or minimum wage, and no safety oversight. It doesn't democratise the industry, or who gets to tell stories, it demolishes job security and worker safety.

Again - YouTube is a social media platform where people can upload stuff, it's not a professional industry in and of itself in the same way that film and TV are. As a result, the conduct and standards of a production relies on individual creators, and there's no uniform agreement in the same way that there is in guild-backed productions like there is in film and TV. That's not to say film and TV are perfect industries - they're obviously not - but the nature of award shows like the Emmys and the Oscars and all the guild awards is that its celebrating professional productions that meet certain standards that have all been agreed upon by the unions.

If YouTube wants blanket eligibility for these sorts of things (and again, I'd argue that some of the shows on their platform are already eligible) they'd have to completely rethink their model and start treating their users as workers, which would include actually paying them and having like, an ounce of accountability for the on-set standards of what's uploaded, which I highly doubt will ever happen.

[dirtylilspawn]

hi, i recently discovered your account, and now i'm just in love with your fics, i really liked the headcanons about reader manhandling lads boys. Can you do a reverse version? like, if they wanted to take revenge.

ᴍᴀɴʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇᴅ ᴘᴛ. 2

Summary: The lads boys manhandle you right back.

Fandom: Love & Deepspace

Parings: [Rafayel x Fem!Reader, Sylus x Fem!Reader, Caleb x Fem!Reader, Xavier x Fem!Reader, Zayne x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Hi!!! I'm so happy you like my fics especially the manhandling one, I had fun writing it. And it seems like a lot of people love it haha! Pls don't be afraid to ask anything else you want me to write next. Give me some more good inspiration yall, for me to work on lol. Manhandled pt. 1

Warnings: Fluff & humor, some suggestive stuff, cursing, jealousy, drunk reader

════════════════════════════

RAFAYEL

You and Rafayel frequently visit the beach whenever you can.

A was special place for the both of you.

It was summer break, a good excuse to once again visit the ocean together. Staying away from the heat, enjoying each other's company, eating great food, and walking along the sandy beach. That was your typical outing with Rafayel. And if you were feeling more adventurous, Rafayel would take you deep diving along the ocean floors. The two of you swimming along the currents, seeing the beauty of every coral reef or fish, and many other sea life.

Right now, your whole body was floating along the calm waters.

Your back and legs carried by the cool ocean, cradling you with ease. Your eyes were connected with the bright blue sky above you; a few small clouds pass by but otherwise it was a clear sky today. You smiled while letting out a chilled sigh.

You came over to Rafayel's place, wanting to use his private beach to relax and have fun. It has been a suffering hot for the last two weeks, and you needed a break. You didn't even ask him, the moment you showed up to his home, you were already in your two-piece swimsuit. A pretty white bikini with pink shell tracings along the edges, strings wrapping around your neck and upper torso, while the bottoms had string bows on the side of your waist. You also wore a pink see-through coverup with sandals. And to top it off, you held a basket filled with sandwiches, drinks, snack, desserts, that the two of you enjoyed.

This was a surprise of course, but a very openly welcomed surprise to Rafayel none-the-less. Seeing you in such a visually pleasing bikini was nothing but perfection in Rafayel's world, plus there was food, so really, he couldn't deny you. If he could, he'd tell you to dress like that all the time, 24/7. The only problem would be the onlookers gawking over your beauty, plus he knew you'd be against it anyways. A man can only dream.

Anyway, your thoughts soon came to a halt as you suddenly wondered to yourself, where the heck was your boyfriend? He was here with you during the early day, bathing in the sun, playing few games, swimming together. But as you look to both your sides seeing empty water, and Rafayel's beach cabana empty. You can't even hear him, and you were starting to get a bit anxious.

The last time you heard his voice before relaxing on top of the ocean, was that he'll be right back. That he was going to get something before returning to you. That was seven minutes ago

You didn't know what he was trying to do or get at, but it shouldn't take that long...right?

"Rafayel!?"

You called out as your body was still floating above the water. You hear nothing, no reply back. The only sounds were the wind blowing through some trees, and the swishing of the ocean underneath you.

"Where is he? He didn't ditch me...did he?"

You bite your lip, eyes staring up at the sky with a narrowed glare. Your throat emitting an annoyed groan as another minute passes on.

"He wouldn't...I bet he's scheming something...I can feel it..."

You quiet yourself to hear anything, anything at all. You didn't know why but you had a gut feeling that something was not up. You heart starts to pick up, making you feel on edge. Another minute of calm silence stresses you out as you shake your head.

"Okay that's it! I'm done waiting around, where the hell-AAH!!"

Before you could even get up and search for Rafayel, a strong hand starts to wrap around your legs, while the other hand made its way to your back. The mysterious person picked up from the water, holding you close. You're still screaming in horror at the sudden action, squirming in this person's arms, wondering how a stranger wandered into Rafayel's beach. But all those screams die down as you see your mischievous boyfriend with that annoying grin of his as he stared down at you. His whole-body drench with water, droplets from his hair landing onto your chest.

Rafayel then leans into your neck with rampant amounts of kisses. You sputter out nonsense as he continues to do this before leaning away to give you a sly wink.

"Hey princess, didn't miss me too much did ya~?"

"R-Rafayel! What! Why! You...jerk!"

Your terror went to confusion, which went to anger as you grabbed at his cheeks. Shaking his head with so much frustration causing the man to yelp himself getting away from your attack.

"Okay okay! I'm sorry, stop shaking me! You don't want me to drop you, do ya?"

You stop shaking him, but your pout still remains of your face as your arms were crossed against your chest.

"Where were you?"

"I wasn't that far away, just down below the reefs to find this."

Rafayel hand that was on your back reveals on your side a beautiful conch seashell. The outside a shiny iridescent silver refection, with the sun's rays, you could see the tiny rainbows reflected around the surface. On the inside material was a light violet color, its smooth base glittering, drops of water tracing the shell as if they were pearls. This was indeed beautiful shell, one that Rafayel motioned for you to take into your hands which you did. Your fingertips trace the patterns of the conch shell; it was the size of your palm.

"Isn't it beautiful, thought I find the most extravagant shell I can find, for the most extravagant woman here.

You didn't say anything, as you could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling a bit silly for worrying so much. Feeling embarrassed how the thought of him being underwater was a possibility. You look away from him, clutching the shell close to your chest.

"...it's pretty..."

Rafayel chuckles leaning in to give you a sweet kiss to your cheek. He starts to walk his way back to the shore.

"I'm sorry for scaring you princess, are you mad at me?"

You sigh, eyes returning to his as you smiled back at him.

"No, just next time bring me with you, I like it when we do things together."

Rafayel kisses your cheeks again, his nose brushing with yours.

"Fully noted. Though, I have to admit, hearing your screams was a lot funnier than I expected, cute even. I might want to hear it again~"

Rafayel stops, the ocean water only encompassing his whole waist. His arms start to get lose around your legs and back. He then teases by swaying you around in his arms, as if he has the nerve to throw you out of his embrace, and into the water harshly. You give him a glare, as you wrapped one arm around his neck securely.

"Don't even try fish boy."

Rafayel could only shiver at your threat, a playful yet nervous grin, as he continues to walk out of the ocean and onto the sandy shore.

════════════════════════════

SYLUS

You got into a fight.

No, not a serious fight where tensions rise in one's relationship that causes problems, no. I mean a petty silly fight that started out as a small disagreement, only to result in the both of you - mostly you - giving each other the silent treatment. Honestly you forgotten what the argument as about. Maybe it was about work life, or maybe it was that you had a bad day, whatever it was it made you pretty stubborn to talk to him. Always avoiding him, giving him sarcastic huffs, turning your head upward like some snotty rich girl. Refusing to acknowledge his presence in a very playful yet still mad stubborn kind of way.

He knows this, and he finds it adorable.

How his kitten is refusing any sort of affection due to one silly argument. Playing hard to get as he tries lure you in with apologies and love, while all you do is turn your head the other way. Like a stranger pushing a bowl of milk to a stray cat as it hisses in retaliation. He found it absolutely cute, but the cuteness soon died down into a slight irritation.

"My you sure are a sight for the eyes girly~"

"Aw thank you."

Sylus scoffed watching the sleezy older man compliment you like some common whore for him to take. He could overhear the whole conversation between you and him through an earpiece the two of you shared. And the more that bastard talk to you, the more upset Sylus got.

You were undercover obviously, gathering personal intel from a powerful criminal the frequented this nightclub in the N109 zone. You told Sylus about it in a very brief manner, expecting to go alone on this but the Onychinus leader came along with you. Because he'll be damned if he didn't, and he was right. He knows that this little argument between you and him was just no more than playful banter between you both, there was no actual problem. He knows inside you had already forgiven him, even though you won't admit it. He liked that aspect of your stubbornness, but now he didn't, because now he has to watch another man talk to you while you laugh and smile at his words - not actually - and he can't even get two words in before you turn away.

It bothered him.

And it bothered him even more when he sees this old man start to get fresh. His dirty hands making their way to your exposed thigh. Making his way up your thigh, a goal to get underneath your short red dress. A dress he had bought for you one time, a dress that he can only undress and feel up underneath.

Yeah, he's had enough of this.

Time to put an end to your game.

You on the other hand were trying so hard not to punch the man in the face. Your face twitching in anger but still acting coy and sweet, swatting the old man 's hand playfully off, giggling, but deep down you were seething. You just wanted to go home with Sylus and end this night quickly. Just a little more info, then you can finally go.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when you can see your intimidating boyfriend waltz right up to the private corner where you and your suspect were sitting. He parted the crowd of dancers with ease, his face stone cold and serious, as his red eyes glowered at the scene in front of him. You cursed inside, as Sylus is now right in front of you. His big body looming over yours as you sat nervously.

"Time to go dove."

It was all he said, you were happy he's here. Happy that he came to get you. But at the same time the stubbornness from before rises, now upset at him for blowing your mission. You sat up hands pushing at his chest gently to make him go back, but the man does not bulge an inch.

"What are yo-"

"Hey, were busy here pal."

The elder man then suddenly gets up; he glares at Sylus while bringing you back close to him. His arm and hand wrapped around your waist, making you cringe not liking being this close to the guy. Before you could even say anything, or push this man away, you saw the familiar dark red and black mist of Sylus evol activating around the old man. He grunts in pain, his whole body capsulated by the powerful evol making his hand come off your waist. It crushed him a bit all before he was suddenly thrown back against the leather couch. He let's out a painful groan, as his body sags pathetically.

You watch this, only to gasp loudly yourself as you had found yourself being picked up by Sylus. Your whole body thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ass sticking out and your dress ridding up your thighs making you blush heavily.

"Sylus!"

"We're going now."

He simply says before making his way out of the club, parting the shocked crowded of people that witness the embarrassing scene. As if that wasn't enough, Sylus gave your ass a sharp spank to your cheek making you cry out with shock. Your butt wiggling at the stinging - but very pleasurable - slap to your ass. You whine as you cover your face from the lingering eyes, you did this until Sylus makes his way outside the club. His feet stop as he made it to his motorcycle where he had parked it.

"Sylus put me down!"

"I don't think so kitten you're in time out."

"Time out!?"

"Well, until you apologize and say that you won't ignore me. Otherwise, you'll be staying up here for a while~"

Is your boyfriend seriously putting you in air jail until you apologize for ignoring him. You sigh, rubbing your hand on your forehead, cheeks puff out as you try to wiggle out of this. But it was no use, as he held a firm grip on you. His hand running up and down your smooth back thigh, teasing yet comforting. Honestly it felt so much better having his hand on your thigh than that old man's hand. So much better.

"Mmm...sorry..."

"What was that kitten I couldn't hear you."

You can just hear the smirk on his face stretching. It made grumble more, arms crossed as you looked at the ground in defeat.

"I sorry, I won't ignore you anymore...now can you put me down! I'm starting to get dizzy here."

"Seems you have forgotten the magic words that go to that sentence."

You let out a long groan, your body slumping his his hold. You can hear his signature laugh which made you want to just hide away and curl up into a little ball. With man was going to be the death of you with his endless teasing.

"Please put me down."

Sylus lets out a hum of approval before setting you back down on the cement ground. You stumble a bit on your heels before looking up at him flustered. He grins down at you, eyes racking every part of your body making you feel so small. He raises a hand to caress your cheek affectionately. Sylus then leans down to give your lips a brief but passionate kiss on your glossed lips. You close your eyes leaning in gor more. All those times ignoring his advances made you realize just how touched starved you are with this man.

He pulls away, which made you whine - he definitely heard - moving to near towards your ear. Making you shiver feeling his breath against your skin lightly.

"Good girl, now let's get back home so we can make up properly. You kept avoiding me for so long, it's about time I take my well-deserved fill~"

════════════════════════════

CALEB

"Hmm...where are you pipsqueak?!"

A goofy smile made it to your face as you hide behind a tree from Caleb. Your back against the wide tree, looking over to see Caleb walking along the glassy fields slowly with a grin stretching his lips. Heart pounding in your chest at the prospect of getting caught by him. You try as much to stifle your own laugher or breaths as he inches closer to where you were.

It was a very bright warm day today, Caleb suggested going out and taking a nice walk around the park meadows nearby. You agreed to this and spent your whole day with Caleb as you walked around the park. Passing by kids who run along the sidewalk or hanged around the jungle gym. Food venders who you defiantly stop by, grabbing something to eat with their delicious food. And couples ranging from your age to elderly ones that sat on benches complimenting you and Caleb and your youth.

It was a very peaceful day.

Once you guys made it to the widespread meadow, you couldn't help but feel a bit playful with him. Before he could even say anything, you start to run away from him, taunting about how he couldn't catch you. Making Caleb grin with amusement and run right after you. The both of you laughing and giggling like little kids. It felt so cliche yet wholesome at the same time running after each other in a field of flowers. It was moments like these that Caleb treasures the most, just having so much fun with you, seeing the look of happiness on your face.

"[Y/N]! You can't hide forever."

You hear Caleb call out, but you didn't respond, as you were still hiding behind the tree you picked out. You slid down the tree into a kneeling crouch, staying as quiet as you could so he couldn't hear. You can hear the faint steps of shoes crunching on the grassy ground come closer and closer. Your heart pounding heavily inside your chest, until suddenly you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore.

You wait a few moments and still you couldn't hear Caleb, nor did he call out again. It was silent, too silent.

You got up from crouching and turn yourself around to look around the tree, seeing no trace of where Caleb was. This caused your heart to skip in fear. You curse inside your head before backing away, knowing Caleb probably would jump out and likely find where you are. You had to get out of there quickly.

And so you do back away.

Right into Calebs chest.

His lips right next your ear, with and evil smirk stretching across his lips.

"Gotcha~"

"Aah!"

Before you know it, his hands grappled your waist, immediately going into a full-on tickle fight. His fingers digging into your sides, tickling you with no mercy whatsoever. You laugh, tears pricking your eyes as you try to move away from his assault. But no, this boy had an iron hold on you.

"Caleb! Haha...w-wait nooo~!"

"After running from me, this is your punishment pipsqueak~"

You whine and moan trying to find a way to get out of this situation. It wasn't until you both found yourself on the ground where you had found an opportunity. His body towered over yours as he stops tickling you for a moment, watching as you trying to catch your breath. The moment you do was the moment you striked, as your hands were placed upon his shoulders. Pushing him over onto the grass with you straddling his waist.

"Ha! Take that!"

Caleb laughs grinning with playful mischief.

"The games not over yet babe!"

His hands are on your waist again as he then tackles you back down, rolling you onto the grass while he was right above you again. Your shock face turns into determination, taking that as a challenge. You roll over him again to pin him down, and he does the same. The both of you laughing about as the two of your rolled along the meadow, trying to pin one another.

It wasn't until Calbe gets dizzy that he stops this. Forcefully manhandling you down with much ease. His hands now pinning your wrists above your head. He pants heavily, looking down at you with his own victorious smile; his looming presence shadows your own body. You try to wiggle away with no avail, Caleb having too much of a hold on you. No match for his ridiculous amount of strength.

"Give up?"

You grunt before letting out a long sigh, head dropping on ground hair messy as well as your clothes. It was a simple pair of jean shorts and [F/C] shirt. He was messy as well, you can see a few grass strands cling to his body, shirt, and pants. A few specks of dirt here and there. His hair was messy, his dog tag necklace dangling above you. You can feel your cheeks heat up, defeated and embarrassed.

You grumble to yourself, looking away from his lingering gaze which made him chuckle. Thinking just how cute you were pinned beneath him, it made his heart flutter.

"Fine, I give up.

Caleb hums, "Good."

He leans down to kiss your lips making your eyes widen but lean into the kiss anyway. He pulls away only to cover your entire face with kisses, causing you to giggle from his cute actions. He continues to do this, even going down to your neck which made you chuckle even more.

Caleb then sighs blissfully in between you neck and shoulder.

He stops and let's go of your wrists, only for him to put his full body weight on top of you. His head laying on your chest nuzzling you, his eyes closed as he basks in this moment the two of you shared.

"Agh, Caleb your heavy...get off~"

"Hmm...nah, let's stay like this for a little while more..."

He says this holding you close like you were so teddy bear. You sigh as you look up at the clear blue sky, feeling the cool wind on your face making you feel a bit drowsy yourself. Your hands wrapped around his head, hands threading through his dark brown locks. Nails scratching his scalp making him groan, burring his head more into your chest.

Everything felt so peaceful and calm in that very moment.

That is until something shifts and prods against your mid-thigh.

"Uh...Caleb?"

"Sorry squeaks, you can't really blame me here."

════════════════════════════

XAVIER

He got a call from Tara.

Saying something about helping her with you in the mix of things, it sounded urgent. So of course, Xavier immediately got up to go over to where you were. You told Xavier that you were going out with Tara and Simone for a girl's night out. Just a simple date with the crew, drinking and some karaoke. He smiles to this, saying to be careful and have fun, giving you a kiss as he watched you head out.

And now he watches as you were singing your heart out to some random song, standing on top of a table, microphone in hand, as you slur the lyrics to the song badly. He watched this drunk you in action with amusement but worry. Tara was also there watching the hilarious scene, but she was sat next to Simone who was also heavily drunk, cheering you on with slurred "Whoos", her eyes barely open. Tara was holding her up as she was slumped against the couch, trying to get her to drink water.

"It's been like this for an hour; can you take care of [Y/N]. I have to get Simone back to her place; it's a bit far."

Xavier nods his head, "Yeah, I'll take care of her. You go on ahead."

Tara nods and she gets up bring Simone on her feet. She wobbles and whines about how she wants to stay more, but Tara declines that. She had already called a taxi to come pick them up. Both exit the room, leaving just you and Xavier. You didn't even know Xavier was in the room, to focused on the song at hand.

That was until Xavier grabbed the remote and paused the karaoke game on the tv, the room now silent, making you groan and turn to him. There was a pout on your face, but it soon turned to a goofy smile as you saw your boyfriend was here.

"Xaaavier, your here!"

You lifted up your arms joyfully making Xavier chuckle.

"[Y/N] what are you doing?"

You laugh.

"I'm singing obviously, duuh, c-come on up...and sing with meee~"

You start to dance on top of the table, making it wobble. And Xavier catches this, worried about your well-being.

"I think you done enough singing for today angel, how about we go home."

You turn to him with a sad pout.

"What? Nooo...the night is young just one more song pleeeease~"

"You're drunk [Y/N], you have to come home."

Your head shakes, as you crossed your arms like a child.

"How dare you good sir, I'm not drunk...can a drunk person dance like this!"

You then dance terribly on top of the table, limbs moving carelessly in the air, your skirt flowing with every movement of your hips. Xavier sees this and shakes his head with a laugh exiting his lips. He found this adorable; you completely wasted dancing like nobody watching. It almost made him wish he had his phone to record this silly moment of you.

But his amusement turned into worry as he saw the table wobbling again, this time more frequently.

"[Y/N], how about we get down-"

"No way party pooper, I'm not fini-"

The table buckled violently underneath you, causing you to stumble and fall. The microphone in your hand falling out and onto the floor with a loud thud. You gasp, heart pounding in your chest as you felt the scary sensation of falling. But Xavier being the quick person he is caught you just in time. His arms wrapped around your waist securely, as you had wrapped your arms around his neck. Xavier made your legs wrap around his waist, his hands holding your thighs so you wouldn't go anywhere. Your body was shaking from the frightening fall, sobering you up just a bit.

"Uhm...you know what...your right...I should probably get home...yeah."

You said as you try to calm your frantic heart, clinging onto Xavier like a life preserver. You can hear him chuckle at your words in your ear, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. He doesn't say anything but walk over to grab an un-open bottled water for you and your purse. His one hand still carrying you with no struggle. You can feel your heats heat up in embarrassment, as you and Xavier walked out of the karaoke room. A few passersby's watching confused at the situation.

You moan, hiding your face in his neck, you can feel the chill air of the night as Xavier walks out the building.

"Here, drink."

Xavier orders you to drink the water, presenting it to you. You grab the bottle, unscrewing the cap before taking a nice swig of water down your throat. One hand was wrapped around his neck while the other clutched the bottle, groaning at the cool refreshing water. Xavier continued to walk down the sidewalk, his hands clutching underneath your thighs that still was wrapped around his waist. You stop drinking the water when done, the liquid reaching the bottom of the bottle, as it was almost finished. You let out a long sigh, resting your head on Xavier's shoulder.

"Feeling a bit better?"

"Mhm..."

You mumbled with a yawn. There was silence between you two as Xavier continued to walk with you still in his arms. You can still feel the embarrassment still lingering in your cheeks. Your boyfriend seeing your dance ridiculously while also carrying you like a child. You can see a few more people walk along the sidewalk seeing this embarrassing situation you've gotten yourself in. You wiggle in Xavier's tight grasp he has on you. His manhandling on you getting to your head, but he doesn't care as he holds on to you tightly not wanting to let you go.

"Y-You know you can set me down now, I can walk."

Xavier smiles shaking his head. He leans into your neck giving you sweet butterfly kisses all before he nips at your neck with his teeth. Causing you to gasp and whine more, face hotter than before.

"No, I think I'll hold you till we get back. Who knows what will happen if I let you go. You might just climb up one of these lamp posts and start dancing~"

"Xaaavier.."

Yeah, you had a feeling he'd hold this over you for a while.

════════════════════════════

ZAYNE

"Are you going to wear those?"

That's the question Zayne asked you firsthand. Seeing you place on a pair of nice heels on. Heels that were a little higher than the normal pair of heels you would usually wear to a formal event. The two of you were going out to a fancy gathering with some of Zayne's collogues. There was a plus one, and Zayne asked if you had wanted to accompany him to which you had said yes. Knowing that he finds you company to these certain event barrable then if he had gone alone.

You looked up at him with a coy smile stretched across your lips. You hand leaving your feet as you just finished placing the second heel on your right foot. You stand up giving him a good spin around, showcasing your beautiful outfit to him. A long silver dress, your hair up in a tight bun, earrings, a necklace, and those high heels.

"What? The heels? You don't like them?"

Zayne doesn't say anything, only starting down at the shiny silver heels you wore. He adjusts his tie on his tux, as his body was facing a bedroom mirror.

"They're a bit higher than what you normally wear my love."

You get what he was saying to you, that these heels were too much. How he was worried you'd be too uncomfortable all throughout the evening wearing them. Getting yourself hurt making it unbearable to walk. But you were too confident and stubborn, thinking nothing of it when putting on these heels. You looked too good in your outfit, and these heels topped it off, you figured you could handle them.

"Yeah, but I can handle them perfectly see."

You walked like a model on a runway, showing him how you were comfortable with these heels on your feet. You then turn to him with a playful smirk, a hand on your hips.

"See, easy no need to worry I'm fine."

Zayne cocks a brow up as he looks at you for a moment, as if scanning your expressions. He then sighs rolling his eyes back over to the mirror he was facing, checking out his appearance for the final time.

"Alright then, don't come complaining to me when your feet are in agony."

You puff your cheeks at him, sticking your tongue out playfully.

"Oh please! I'm stronger than I look, I bet I can even last the whole night!"

Zayne lets out a small huff of a laugh, while shaking his head, a small but all-knowing grin curling the corner of his lips.

"I know you're strong honey, c'mon it's about time we head out."

And that's where are story leads us, to you sitting on an expensive couch in a private room with Zayne. Your legs and feet propped up on Zayne's lap as his rough hands massaged the soles of your feet. His suit jacket was off, as the sleeves of his black dress blazer was rolled up to his elbows showing his scars. You were dramatically laying back against the couch's armrest, letting out pitiful groans and whines. Your head was tilt back to the decorative ceiling; the feeling of Zayne's hands massage you making you sigh with relief.

Thirty minutes.

Once you reached the thirty-minute mark of wearing those heels, began the intense pain that came after it. You tried your best to stifle the pain away, tried to grin your best smile while taking to many of Zanye's collogues. But the searing pain of those damn heels digging into your skin, making your feet sore with every second. The constant ache with every step you took. Hell, you even stumbled a bit which made people question if you're okay which was embarrassing. It wasn't until you actually stumble and fall into you boyfriend's arms that you knew you were done.

Here was your boyfriend, guiding you to a private room away from the massive party of onlookers. Guiding you gently to the couch so you can sit. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to say anything because you already know what's going through his mind.

"I guessing this is the part where you say I told you so."

Zayne chuckles at your pouty tone. Even with your disgruntled appearance he still finds you absolutely gorgeous. One of his hands ran up and down your legs, your dress ridding up a bit, as his hands made contact with your thigh causing you to shiver. He gives you thigh a good squeeze before lifting your right foot up, making you quirk an eyebrow at him. But it soon went away when his lips pressed a chaste kiss against your ankle. Giving you a good number of kisses till he reached about twelve.

"I wouldn't stoop to such lows my beloved."

He speaks sending a painfully blissful pressure point to your bottom foot causing you to whimper. God, when it came to massages, he was so great at them, always manhandling your body, subduing you into a messy puddle.

"But I will say next time please don't compromise your own health just because of some fashionable clothes, okay?"

You look up at him, seeing his gentle expression towards you. Your heart flickers, giving him small smile back.

"Okay...sorry for cutting the party short."

"No apologies needed, I wasn't really focused on it anyway...now-"

Zayne had placed your legs and feet aside before standing up from the couch. He then gets his suit jacket and places it along your shoulders. He gets your heels in one hand, before wrapping his left arm around you to pick you up. You gasp in shock, wrapping your arms around your neck as he picks you up, one hand with ease. He gives you a smirk, making your cheeks flush and stomach twist.

"-Let's get you back home so I can take care of you."

"B-But wait! What about the others? Seeing me like this in your arms?"

Zayne only walks back to the door that led you to the private room, his right hand the held your heels operating to twist the door handle.

"I'll just say I'm tending to my dear patient who's in need of my assistance~"

And that's exactly what he said, though a big portion of embarrassment still resided inside you as you were carried away. All because a pair of some stupid heels.

════════════════════════════

[kiwriteswords]

For the trope day could we please see maybe celebrity reader and hotch? congrats btw!

Walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya [Aaron Hotchner x Popstar!Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 2k|| AN: I keep seeing so much queen Sabrina Carpenter stuff around the Hotch fandom these days; she's who I envisioned reader to be like here--but obviously open to interpretation of whatever popstar you would want to be! I lowkey could never picture this happening, but it was fun, nonetheless. This is also likely my last story I'll do for trope tuesday because they take a lot of time, haha. Unless I do a short drabble!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, speculating bau team!, gossip!!, Penelope Garcia is your biggest fan!!!, you're a superstar who sells out stadiums, even rossi knows this!, mysterious!hotch, more of a fun one-shot than anything too fluffy, very team-focused, non-bau!reader

Summary: Hotch has been in a great mood, oddly enough, and when one day, he hands over tickets to Penelope for her favorite singer of all time--you--the team really begins to wonder where Hotch is spending his free time.

The bullpen of the BAU was unusually animated for a Monday morning. Derek leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, watching Reid flip through files at an astonishing rate while Penelope hovered over both their shoulders, her curiosity practically buzzing.

“Seriously, Spence, you didn’t notice anything different about Hotch last week?” Derek asked, his tone teasing but genuinely curious.

Reid, without looking up from his reading, adjusted his glasses. “Well, he did leave on time every day, which is statistically significant for him.”

“Leaving on time? That’s an understatement. The man was practically sprinting out the door at five o’clock. And he smiled--actually smiled--at me yesterday,” Penelope chimed in, her eyes wide with the thrill of the gossip.

Emily, walking in with a cup of coffee in hand, joined the group. “Don’t forget, he also took a personal day last Friday. When’s the last time Hotch took a day off that wasn’t for something work-related?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Exactly! Something’s up. Hotch is seeing someone; it’s got to be.”

Reid finally looked up, curiosity overcoming him. “But who would it be? I mean, we practically live at work. When would he even have the time to meet someone?”

Penelope twirled a strand of her brightly colored hair, thinking. “Oh, my sweet geniuses, that’s the million-dollar question! I could do a little cyber snooping--”

“Penelope, no hacking into Hotch’s personal life,” Emily cut off, her tone half-serious. “But I agree, it’s odd. He’s even been more... what’s the word?”

“Chill?” Derek suggested with a chuckle. “For Hotch standards, anyway.”

The group’s laughter was a mixture of disbelief and genuine amusement, just as Rossi walked up, a knowing smile playing onhis lips. “Talking about our fearless leader’s mysterious new habits?”

Derek nodded, welcoming Rossi into the conversation. “Rossi, you’re the profiler extraordinaire with all the life experience. What’s your read on this?”

Rossi stroked his chin, pretending to ponder deeply. “Well, if I were a betting man--and I occasionally am--I’d say our boy Hotch might just be reminding himself there’s more to life than case files and jet fuel.”

Reid’s brow furrowed in thought. “It’s statistically rare for individuals in high-stress jobs to make sudden changes to their behavioral patterns without a significant emotional or personal catalyst.”

“Exactly,” Penelope squealed, delighted by the support for their theories. “He’s got to be dating someone. This is just like those romance novels where the broody, mysterious man finds love and starts changing his ways.”

JJ laughed, sipping her coffee. “Let’s not get carried away. It could be anything--maybe he’s just taking up a new hobby…or maybe it’s Jack.”

“But a hobby that makes him leave work on time and take days off? That’s not just any hobby; that’s a passion,” Derek countered, his smile suggesting he was thoroughly enjoying the speculation.

The group quieted as Hotch suddenly appeared, his pace steady and his expression unreadable as always. He paused by their cluster, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Morning,” he greeted, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. “I trust we’re all ready to focus on the real mysteries at hand today?”

Caught in their own theories, the team straightened up, mumbling their morning greetings. Hotch’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual, giving nothing away.

As he walked off towards his office, Emily whispered to the group, “See? Happier. I’m telling you, there’s definitely something--or someone--new in his life.”

Rossi chuckled, watching Hotch disappear into his office. “Or maybe our esteemed unit chief just decided it’s time to start living a little. Either way, it’s good to see.”

The team nodded in agreement, the mystery of Hotch’s unusual behavior lingering in the air, adding a layer of intrigue to their day. Derek grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Alright, let’s get to work. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll crack the case of the Happy Hotch.”

Laughter echoed softly among them as they dispersed to their desks, the day’s work ahead, but their minds still occasionally drifted to the enigma of Aaron Hotchner’s uncharacteristic lightness.

Days after the team's animated discussion about Hotch's peculiarly cheerful demeanor, Penelope Garcia was in her vibrant lair, surrounded by her kaleidoscope of tech and trinkets.

The sound of a catchy pop song filled the air, and Penelope couldn't help but dance and sing along to the tune, her voice echoing slightly off the walls lined with monitors.

She was in the middle of a particularly enthusiastic chorus when a knock at the door made her jump. Swiveling around in her chair, she saw Hotch standing at the entrance, an amused smile barely touching his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Hotch said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of humor.

Penelope chuckled, brushing off her surprise with a flamboyant wave of her hand. "Oh, it's nothing, Sir. Just enjoying some tunes while I work. You know, fuel for the brain!"

Hotch nodded, his gaze drifting momentarily to the colorful post-it notes of affirmations on her screen. "I couldn’t help but overhear. Do you like this artist?" he asked, nodding toward the speaker from where the music still played, though now at a lower volume.

Penelope’s eyes lit up, eager to share her enthusiasm. "Like her? I adore her! She’s all about empowerment and fun, and her beats are just infectious. Plus, her lyrics are, like, super relatable. She's a total queen!" Penelope exclaimed, not missing the opportunity to promote her musical taste.

Hotch's smile grew a bit as he listened to Penelope’s gushing review. "I see," he said, his voice filled with a warm, curious tone that Penelope rarely heard from him. "Thanks, Garcia."

With a final nod and a mysterious smile, he turned and left as quietly as he had arrived, leaving Penelope staring after him, slightly confused but smiling nonetheless.

She shrugged to herself and turned the volume back up, diving back into her work with the music as her soundtrack, her mind briefly wandering to wonder about Hotch’s sudden interest in pop culture.

"Maybe he’s getting a life outside those case files after all--and a decent taste in music..." she murmured to herself, her head bobbing to the beat as she focused back on her screens, the mystery of Aaron Hotchner adding yet another curious, albeit lighter, layer to her day.

The following week brought an air of excitement that seemed to linger around the BAU, particularly around Penelope Garcia's tech-filled lair. The atmosphere was thick with disbelief and joy as Penelope, unable to contain her excitement, recounted a recent encounter with Hotch to JJ and Emily.

"You guys will not believe this!" Penelope beamed, her hands animatedly waving the prized items in the air. "Hotch--our Hotch--just handed me these!" She fluttered a pair of tickets like they were sacred texts.

JJ and Emily leaned in, eyes widening as they caught sight of the tickets. "No way! How did he even get those?" Emily exclaimed, her skepticism matched by her amusement.

Rossi, overhearing the commotion as he walked in, joined the group, a curious smile playing on his lips. "What's all this about?" he inquired, peering over to see what had stirred up such excitement.

Penelope held up the tickets with a theatrical flair. "These, my dear Rossi, are tickets to see none other than--" she paused for dramatic effect, "--the popstar we were just talking about last week! And not just any tickets--Hotch got them for me!"

Rossi's eyebrows shot up, a clear sign of his surprise. "Those tickets? I heard on the news this morning that they were impossible to get. The show sold out in minutes," he commented, adding to the bewildering nature of Hotch’s gift.

Before Penelope could respond, Derek Morgan swooped in, his hand snatching the tickets from her grip to inspect them himself. "Let me see these," he said, his voice a mix of suspicion and awe. Flipping them over, his eyes scanned the details, and a slow whistle escaped him. "Ladies, these aren’t just any tickets. These are front row. Front. Row. Do you realize how good these seats are?"

JJ laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "This is insane. Hotch pulled some serious strings. Front row to see a popstar like her? That's not just pulling strings; that's a whole concert orchestra at work!"

Penelope snatched the tickets back from Derek, clutching them close to her chest. "I knew Hotch had a secret side to him!" she exclaimed, her previous theories about his recent behavior seeming to find validation. "This is like, the best thing ever. I can't even--"

Emily leaned in, her voice low and playful. "You know what this means, right? You're going to have to get all dolled up, Penelope. Front row means you’ll probably be on camera!"

Penelope’s grin widened at the thought, already planning her outfit in her mind. "Oh, trust me, I will be camera-ready. Our stoic unit chief might just make a fangirl out of me yet!"

Rossi chuckled, shaking his head as he watched the excitement bubble over. "Well, I'll say this," he mused, "it's nice to see Hotch letting his hair down a bit, even if it’s in his own unique way."

“Whoever he’s seeing’s got some serious connections,” Derek shared. 

The group nodded in agreement, the mystery of Hotch's recent behavior adding an unexpected but welcome layer of camaraderie and speculation among the team. As they dispersed back to their tasks, the buzz of excitement remained, the BAU team finding a rare moment of lightness amidst their usual, graver responsibilities.

At the concert, JJ and Penelope stood in the front row, the pulsing lights and thumping beats of the music wrapping around them like a vibrant cloak. You were the popstar that Penelope (and the rest of society) could not get enough of.

Your performance had a cascade of dazzling visuals and soul-stirring vocals that had the crowd roaring with excitement. Each song seemed to resonate perfectly with the audience, a mix of chart-topping hits and beloved classics that had JJ and Penelope singing along, lost in the nostalgia and the thrill of the night.

They felt like they were sixteen all over again.

As the concert progressed, the atmosphere turned electric, each track bringing a new wave of cheers from the audience. You moved with a grace and confidence that commanded attention, your presence on stage both mesmerizing and awe-inspiring. The night was already unforgettable, but it was about to become even more so.

Before launching into the next song, you paused, your gaze sweeping over the crowd with a playful yet intense look.

"This next song," you began, your voice ringing clear over the din, "is a very special one. It’s for the grumpy man who changed my life. He's from here, and guess what? He's here tonight. Supporting me, despite having the most important job out there."

The crowd erupted in cheers, curiosity piqued by your heartfelt introduction. You continued, your eyes twinkling with emotion and mischief, "And because he’s here, supporting me, I want to give a shout-out to someone very special in the audience tonight--Penelope!"

Penelope’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide with shock, and JJ turned to her with an expression that mirrored her disbelief. "How does she know your name?" JJ whispered her voice a mix of excitement and confusion.

Before Penelope could formulate a response, you launched into a flirty, romantic ballad, your voice soaring as beautifully as the lyrics. As yo sang, you glanced toward the VIP section, and with a sly wink and a blown kiss, you acknowledged someone standing there..

Driven by curiosity and an overwhelming sense of wonder, JJ and Penelope followed your gaze. There, among a few shadowed figures in the VIP section, stood none other than Aaron Hotchner. His usually impassive face wore a soft, almost shy smile as he acknowledged the kiss with a slight nod, his eyes locked on the stage.

He was dressed in a black button-up and jeans--a far contrast to his usual attire. He looked relaxed…happy. Maybe not singing along to the words, but he sure knew them. He inspired them. 

The realization hit Penelope like a wave. "Oh my god, JJ, Hotch is her boyfriend? Hotch is the grumpy man who changed her life?" she gasped, her voice a mix of shock and delight.

JJ laughed, shaking her head in amazement. "Looks like we've been underestimating our boss's ability to keep secrets," she said, her eyes twinkling with humor and newfound respect for their unit chief.

As the song ended and you took a graceful bow, the crowd’s applause was deafening. JJ and Penelope clapped and cheered along, their hearts full of joy and their minds buzzing with the night’s revelations.

The concert continued, but for JJ and Penelope, the evening had transformed into something even more magical--a story they would share and reminisce about for years to come, the night their grumpy boss was revealedto be the secret boyfriend of a popstar, right before their very eyes.

[800db-cloud]

spare some spy hcs? 👀

OKAY. ok. so i have been putting off answering this ask because i’m admittedly very shy and very afraid of sharing my headcanons. and also because i have A LOT OF THEM.. but here we are!

here are my headcanon spies :) René works for RED and Jacques works for BLU!

where to start, where to start… i have a LOT of headcanons for them, i’ll be talking for FOREVER here. i’ll just start with story because why not! xP

René’s parents were also agents/spies, so he was always destined to be one as well. And he lives up to his parents’ legacies! He’s most notorious for destroying gangs and mobs and the like from the outside in. He was brought to America years ago to take out a dangerous mob boss, but unfortunately found himself infatuated (and involved) with the boss’ daughter. Luckily for him, the boss’ daughter wanted the guy dead, too.

René’s story is honestly a lot more fleshed out than Jacques’, but here goes anyway:

Jacques’ father was a very rich and powerful man in politics. Jacques himself was the result of an affair, and to keep it hush-hush, his father decided to raise him. Raise is a strong word, though— but he did help his father gain intelligence and blackmail on opposing political parties. Jacques proved to be a promising spy since childhood.

If anyone has any suggestions/ideas for Jacques’ story, let me know haha x) he didn’t have the greatest upbringing per se…

last thing on this section i wanna talk about is the Scouts. René is related to both of the Scouts; he’s RED Scout (Jeremy)’s biological father, and he’s BLU Scout (James)’ adoptive/step-father. Jacques has no relation to either scout, but acts as a guardian figure to BLU Scout.

anyway, this is the part where i continue talking about other miscellaneous headcanons! and these come with doodles :)

You couldn’t catch René DEAD without his mask, or his suit! He’d neeever take them off around other people (‘other people’ is mainly just Scout. For obvious reasons.) Meanwhile, Jacques is pretty lenient in letting his teammates see his face! Everyone on BLU’s seen his face at least once.

A big part of why René refuses to strip down is also due to the fact he has a LOT of tattoos. No doodle for this one because I’ve yet to decide on what tattoos to put on him (ideas are very welcome!!), but yeah! Most of the tattoos were ‘forced’ onto him/he had to get for jobs and ‘fitting in’ with bad crowds, but a good few of them were of his own accord, too.

Jacques doesn’t have tattoos, but he has a myriad of another thing: scars! Lots and lots of scars on this guy. Faded and old, sure, but they’re there. Most prominent ones are the one around his neck (from when the RED Medic beheaded him) and the ones on his forearms (those are from the LAST time he was imprisoned— looong story…)

René doesn’t cook very often for his team, but when he does, everyone’s always BLOWN AWAY by this guy’s cooking! René’s really bad at taking compliments, though— (“Cooking food that’s remotely edible isn’t a compliment, it’s basic survival.”) —but rest assured he’ll be thinking about it for the next month. Jacques, however… Do NOT let this guy into the kitchen. Ever. The BLU base has a special fire extinguisher “In Case Spy Decides To Turn On The Stove”

oooh, this one is an hc and a HALF to me. René much prefers working alone. It’s just in his nature, being isolated and whatnot. He likes to deal with things by himself– maybe he doesn’t want to burden others? On the contrary, Jacques NEVER works alone. It’s a trait he’s had even before being hired to BLU. You never know when things could go wrong, so it’s best to have someone else to fall back to… or someone else you can blame!

these hcs both have something to do with how René and Jacques show their trust in other people :) it’s a bit convoluted but it gets there:

René is, amusingly, very bad at remembering names. Almost laughably bad. There have been many-a-story of his days before RED where he’d get a target’s name wrong, even after he’d repeated it in his head dozens of times over. Names are difficult for him, so if he remembers yours, it means you mean a lot to him! He prefers using his teammates’ names rather than their titles. René is unaware of how charming this specifc trait is to his coworkers (they saw how much work and effort it took for him to memorize their names, they’re just happy with how far he’s come!)

Jacques has a… to put simply, very complicated relationship with food. But the one thing he’ll never turn down is sweets. His favorites especially being chocolate bonbons. Jacques has a hard time eating in front of others, let alone sharing his food! But if he genuinely likes and trusts you enough, he’d have half the mind to share with you. Admittedly, he hasn’t brought himself to share with most of the members of his team yet, except for a select few. Mostly BLU Medic and BLU Sniper.

—

and of course, eventually, EVENTUALLY, these two also become friends! it took a little bit but believe me, they both respect each other’s skill in their job :)

AHHg i could go sooo much longer about them— from things like their physical traits (how much teeth they have? it’s a pressing question) or different periods of their life (why did rené have to leave his family? why was jacques imprisoned for the last time?) BUT this post is so… so, so long. My fingers hurt from typing

If you’ve managed to read through this Beast, THANK YOU RAAHH!!! thanks so much for asking this, too. i hope to spare more hcs someday. hehe ^_^

[eevees-hobbies]

ume devours pussy like he's been starved for days on end (he couldn't see you for a few days) and bonus points if you're actually a plaything for furin , so he'll do a pussy inspection first >-< - 💌 anon <3

Author’s Note: Hi, 💌 Anon! Welcome back 💕 I Just realized that I didn’t mention Sakura in this entire piece, and my heart hurts because of it, lol. Anyway, I’m snatching my bonus points thank you very much! I love the idea of being used by Bofurin; like sign me the fuck up! Trains go choo choo! Lastly, please don't clock me for the name of this little fic haha. I realized I don't have a banner with just Ume, and I was like, "might as well!"

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Hajime Umemiya. You’re Bofurin’s girlfriend to be shared and loved by all, mention of sexual activities with others, fem! receiving oral, mentions of eating ass, but I spared you THIS time, some dirty talk, pubic hair mention, sorry to the two Nirei fuckers out there, I’m sure he eats pussy like a champ—Tis smut. Minors Don’t Interact. 

Word Count: 1.9K

Divider by Saradika. Banner by me

One qualification for a good leader is being unselfish, and Umemiya embodies that virtue perfectly. 

When he took on the role of leader of Bofurin, he knew that it would involve quite a bit of sharing that had the potential to test anyone’s patience. But as though it’s his calling—and it most definitely is—Umemiya willingly shares wisdom with those ready to receive it and, most importantly, shares his most limited resource: his time. He’s never had a problem giving away so much of himself for so little in return. 

It wasn’t until Bofurin had gotten back from winning an intense match-up with a rival group across town, and you all were celebrating on the rooftop with food and beer, that the obvious occurred to him. 

As he watched over the joyous faces of his crew, he found himself studying you, like he always does, as you interacted with Hiragi, whose eyes looked over your form hungrily after you placed a piece of Gyoza against his lips and the tip of your finger touched his tongue.

He watched when you went to speak to Kiryu, who pulled you into his lap playfully and planted a kiss on your cheek, his hands resting under the curve of your breasts. 

And he watched as you crossed the space to turn up the pop-punk music crooning from the stereo. Suo reached out to you unprompted and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, his hand lingering for a beat too long to be considered innocent. 

It became abundantly clear to Ume that he would be doing a massive disservice to his team if he didn’t share you, too.

You thought he was suggesting an open relationship when he approached you with the idea. Your thoughts were in flux immediately. Was he unhappy? Was there someone else? Your heart sunk into your stomach at the idea and the hurtful implications of such an arrangement, but Umemiya simply shook his head.

“I have no intention of offering myself to anyone but you.” 

Admittedly, your new role as the official Bofurin Girlfriend had you just as busy as Umemiya. You weren’t only a sexual toy for them. You were Nirei’s first date, Suo’s confidant, Tsubakino’s shopping buddy, and Kaji’s and Hiragi’s third wheel at metal shows. You felt so lucky to be surrounded by so much love—and dick. But all those excursions—and dick—kept you insanely booked, to the point that you had to develop a shared calendar with your boy toys to not overlap on dates!

So it’s not to anyone's surprise that there are days when you and Umemiya don’t cross paths. You exchange texts frequently, asking how the other is doing and sharing inside jokes with cute gifs and memes, but the absence hurts and leaves you aching for him. And maybe it was also Umemiya’s intention to busy you with the boys because he knew he couldn’t give you as much time as you deserved, but it didn’t hurt any less. 

But fret not; on rare occasions, your schedules align.

You can feel him before you see him, an overwhelming presence that makes the air dense and clotted with an insurmountable pressure. You look up to the door, and just as your intuition hinted, he strides into the room where you all commonly loiter as a group—members strewn across the worn-out couch and others talking amongst each other immediately straighten and hush. 

Umemiya’s well-kept hair is slightly messy, with a few strands dangling in front of his face, and his eyes are smoldering as they scan across the faces in the room, searching until they land on you.

As soon as your eyes meet, the air feels as though it’s coursing with electricity—sexual tension threatening to boil over and scorch anyone who gets in your path. It doesn’t take long for everyone to get the hint to vacate quickly, knowing that you two are set on a collision course that they wouldn’t be able to stop even if they wanted to.

“Ume," you start but are unable to finish as he crosses the room. His heavy steps are the only thing that prepares you as his lips crash onto yours. As he kisses you, hands placed on either side of your cheeks, he breathes you in. His chest expands against yours, and you’re reminded at that moment how much you’ve missed him—missed this. You both wonder silently, but somehow aloud with your bodies, how you could go so long without the other.

And when you’ve been apart for so long, you don’t have time for pleasantries. Ume is walking you backward until your ass is pushed against the back of the couch, which previously housed Bofurin members, the indentations of their bodies still fresh in the cushions.

He smiles at you—one that you recognize because it isn’t his usual giddy grin; instead, it’s a smile that conveys, “I can’t help what I’m about to do to you.” 

Ume gently grips your elbow and spins you around. As he bends you over, you’re now painfully aware of the feeling of a breeze as he hikes up your dress and his fingers pinch at the exposed flesh of your ass.

“No underwear?”

“Suo doesn’t like it when I wear panties. He says it’s a hassle.”

Umemiya hums to himself in response to this interesting tidbit. He kneels, placing two giant hands on your cheeks, and spreads you down the middle. If anyone else were in the room, they’d be able to see everything, from your juicy, wet cunt to your winking, puckered asshole, and the fact that Umemiya can see everything makes you gush.

“My pretty girl is already so wet,” Umemiya muses, eyeing your pretty hole as it drools for him. You blush, knowing he’s not referring to you but having a conversation with your pussy instead.  

“Have you been a good girl for the boys?” His mouth leaves hot kisses and gentle nips along the curve of your ass, tongue darting out and leaving a trail of saliva across the expanse of your smooth flesh. You stiffen, wondering if his tongue will dip into somewhere more lewd—and Ume considers it, but he’s on a mission with one goal in mind; he’ll devour your asshole another time. 

“Y-yeah, Ume. I’ve been a good girl for them.”

His finger traces your entrance, spreading your freely-flowing juices onto your cunt’s lips. His eyes take you in with pride as you clench around the air simply because his finger is so close to being inside of you. He smiles at the physical way you show how much you crave him.

“For who in particular?”

“My god, Ume! Always with the questions!” You squirm under his touch. You know he isn’t being an intentional tease, but the line of questioning still feels invasive. How do you tell your boyfriend that Hiragi’s cock was breaking you in by noon, and Kiryu had you sucking him off under the table while he tapped away at this phone screen only a couple of hours ago? 

“Why are you shy all of a sudden? Here, I can check.”

Your thighs quiver as he slides two fingers inside of you without warning. You attempt to adjust, but his probing fingers are sweeping so deeply inside of you that you have to dig your nails into the soft fabric of the couch to keep yourself from reaching back and grabbing his wrist. 

“Sugishita, huh? I can tell.”

Oh, yeah. Sugishita, too. 

You cringe as his fingers pass over your clit, making you hiss and recall that you woke up to a particular someone’s head buried between your legs.

“And Nirei, too? Did it feel good when he sucked on your clit? That’s his favorite thing, right? Sucking at your cute little clit until you cum down his throat.”

You huff and wiggle against his hand, growing restless from being exposed like this and against his eyes with no release. 

“Does his tongue feel better than mine?” There’s no jealousy in his tone—just curiosity and a hint of ego because he knows the answer before you can say it.

You give him a quick head shake and mouth the word “No,” earning a smirk. 

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

He’s teasing you, and not saying what he hears means the unfortunate consequence of not having his mouth on you. 

“Your tongue feels better than Nirei’s, Ume.”

“Good girl.” And without further comment, and to your delight, Ume places a kiss against the back of your mound, soft pubic hair tickling his lips.

You don’t like to compare sexual experiences; every Bofurin member brings their own “talents” to the bedroom, but Umemiya has to be your favorite. He touches you with such fondness and devotion that it sets you on fire. Your head falls forward, and your shoulders slump as his tongue makes gentle work of your clit, as if to apologize on behalf of Nirei for making you sore.

��Did you miss me, Ume?”

“More than you could ever imagine. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you—done this—that I was starting to get restless.”

Umemiya’s words ring true. He feasts upon you as though what you have between your thighs is the only meal that can satiate his immense hunger. The way he rubs his nose against your sex, chuckling as you whimper against him, “Needy girl. What am I going to do with you?”

Umemiya’s tongue splits you open, his tongue solid and firm as it explores your cunt, his hands are placed on either side of your ass, with his face flush against your skin to leave as little space between you as possible. 

The way his hot breath fills you up and the way he moans with every lick makes your head spin. Ume and pussy-eating are synonymous. Eating you out is like breathing in air for him, and the way he’s pushing you forward, your stomach digging into the back of the couch from the exertion, is a clear indicator that he’s just as into it as you are. 

“You taste like heaven, baby girl.” Soft, gentle praises float through the air as he laps at you. Between hungry slurps and moans, your legs begin to tremble. If you weren’t holding yourself up against the fortitude of the couch, you’d surely collapse against Umemiya’s face. 

“This isn’t too much for you, right, baby? I’m so hungry; let me have a little more of your pretty pussy.”

It doesn’t matter what you say; Umemiya is set on devouring you regardless of your ability to stand.

“Grind back on my face, sweet girl. I want you to fuck my tongue.” 

And as someone who isn’t in the business of disappointing her king, you use what little energy you have by pushing yourself off the couch and grinding your pussy on Ume’s outstretched tongue. 

He goads you on with each bounce, and in between the soft, wet, smacking sounds from the collision your ass makes with his face, you can barely make out what he’s chanting. 

As you look back at him, curving your midsection to get as best of a view as one can in a bent over, ass-up position, you’re met with the intense, unapologetic, “dare you to look away” gaze of Umemiya’s over the top of your cheeks. 

Direct eye contact during cunnilingus is an unsung hero, and Ume remains the champion. Your walls clench around his tongue, squeezing the muscle as your pussy juices cascade into his mouth and down his chin. 

And despite the way you quake around him, Ume lets you ride it out on his tongue before pulling away and unbuckling his pants.

“God, I’ve missed ya.”

[raayne]

Wills Plague powers

In the The Sun and the Star it was shown that Will did have plague powers. He used it against Nyx. Then it was never mentioned again, i mean yeah its just hay fever not that big of a deal.

WRONG

Nyx is a Primordial goddess of night she shouldnt even as so FEEL plagues, and sicknesses but Will gave her Hay fever with a shout, a shout? not ONE physical interaction, he was a bit far from her, screamed/shouted and she got hay fever.

Do you know, How strong and powerful he had to be to do that? and it was mentioned he never even tried it. not once. are you kidding me? I dont think Mark or Rick ever considered how big this actually is. Nyx was distraught, she never gotten sick and this Apollo Kid just gave her Hey Fever? thats some next level sh*t guys.

and no one else got it! it was just nyx! he shouted Nyx got hay fever, no one else did. Nico didnt register it. BUT BUT BUT when apollo gave that statue hay fever EVERYONE GOT IT!!! Will JUST gave it to Nyx IT DIDNT SPREAD! And when Apollo accidentally give the entire camp hay fever Will never got infected, nor did Nico. Nico was explainable. But I think that was foreshadowing in a way, whether Rick intended to give Will plague powers or not, i dont know

So in honor of Plague!Will I will make headcanons

After he came back to CHB he would probably be too exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically to recall things that happened during Tartarus, not like he would want to anyways. But during dreams i feel as if Nyx would haunt him of what he done.

No one gives a primordial goddess hay fever and gets away with it. Eventually after Will told Nico about the nightmares, Nico would be taken aback as in TSATS he never made comments of Will hay fever-ing Nyx. Then Nico would suggest to embrace the plague, learn to use it. Will would probably deny it at first, or say he wanted to think about it.

But thinking over it, This could be useful. Thinking back to Persephone and her saying he had darkness in him, which led to him giving Nyx hay fever. And Will could defend for himself if he learnt to somehow harness the plague. but the plaguing (haha get it) nightmares kept him from actually doing anything about it. He was scared, he didnt want to mess up and kill people in the process.

And this is where his "im just a healer" comes in. And because he only saw himself as a healer before, he couldn't defend or use a bow and arrow. he said so himself. He probably would be really hesitant. Yes, he is trying to change, to accustom and welcome the darkness. But it takes time for people to change. It cannot happen overnight, thats just impossible.

Then again, for that change to develop further he had to do this. Welcome the darkness, "show him your darkness" Persephone said to him. Yes the underworld still unnerves him, Yes he is still trying to grow onto the fact he has darkness in him. But like i mentioned, hes learning, hes trying. And thats what makes it worth it. He wants to understand Nico, as much as Nico wants to understand him

they're trying. and thats what matters.

After a while. maybe a few weeks, Will wondered off into the woods. He brought a bow and arrow with him, though its kind of useless considering he is not good with a bow and arrow. (i like to believe, with him being friends with Clarisse she taught him how to use a spear.) And then he tried to summon the plague. didnt work. He recalled on how he felt when he first used it, the anger and rage inside him that blew. (AND YES. THIS SHOWS HE DID SNAP DURING TSATS OTHERWISE NYX HAVING HAY FEVER WOULD NOT EXIST. TAKE THAT NON-BELIEVERS!) So he tried to take on the anger again, didnt work.

Eventually he got fed up and went to the infirmary.

then a monster showed up.

But wait! monsters cannot come inside the borders inside CHB!!

yes, you're right dear reader, but some monsters can access through the forest.

He heard the noise. and ran towards it. and there he was. Nico was clutching a bloody arm. The monster must've gotten him by surprise. After all he and Nico went through Will was not going to be useless and let Nico handle it on his own, though Nico could probably very much handle it on his own. In the back of Wills mind he remembered the Plague.

Will noticed a spear lying on the ground, (this is why i mentioned him and clarisse ((why was there a spear on the ground? maybe the fight happened in the battle arena))) he grabbed it, remembered something Clarisse told him about using spears. this is a great time to mention Wills strength he is strong. Nico mentioned in BoO (Blood of Olympus) that he would've pulled away from Will if it wasnt his strength. And DO NOT TELL ME HE DOES NOT HAVE TO CARRY PEOPLE TWICE THE SIZE OF HIM AROUND CAMP BECAUSE HE DEFINITELY DOES. Now, i dont know how to use a spear but im guessing strength is involved. SO, Wil picked up the spear tried to summon the plague and threw it at the monster. Not precise, it barely scraped his shoulder. But it drew the attention to him anyways. Nico staring with wide-eyes, and the monster ready to lunge at him.

Then thats when it happened.

The monster stopped mid-lunge, fell to the ground, and he was coughing, coughing blood (coughing blood is bad very bad. dont listen to the fanfics and animes who make it seem not that important.) The monster began to realise he couldn't breathe but his body was forcing the blood out of him. With the Monster was distracted Nico came up behind him and finished him off.

After that Will learnt how to use it more and more. Though the Nightmares would make him hesitate some times. But with Nico's and Mr D's help he managed.

So i may have went a bit off road half way but heres my idea of Plague!Will. I do wish we get more off will using his plague powers. but yeah, enjoy my wack analysis that derailed into a fanfic half way through!

[infamous-if]

Happy 1 year anniversary to this blog!

It was yesterday...though I do find it fitting that I've been focused on writing so much that I forgot lmao

When I first had the idea for Infamous, I didn't work on it right away. The concept was cool, yeah, but was it enough for interactive fiction? A medium I never even tried before?

I let it marinate in my head for a while wondering if it would be a good story or not. I listened to a lot of music, made a lot of idea boards and outlined routes but told myself I wasn't actually writing it. Just playing in a new literary sandbox with no strings! I was very close to not publishing my idea because it felt like it wasn't a story that I could handle. And it was daunting. I've published stories before, but they were completed novels that I could just forget about it and move on from once I was done. This was a commitment! I kept asking myself if I was even a good enough writer for the plans I had haha

But it didn't stop bothering me and I was getting irritable over my own brain creating this whole world without my permission. So I posted the intro post on a whim just to see what would happen! Turns out, I'm really happy I did!

One year later and there's been a whole community of people who have enriched the story and elevated it to a place that I wouldn't have been able to do it on my own. The amazing fanfics, the head canons, fan art and the suggestions, it's been really nice to work on this with the support and encouragement I've gotten. I think the best parts of the story so far have come from the collective, not me, and knowing that there are people who watched me serve my ideas on a platter like "here. take it pls." and accepted it is really nice. I'm grateful :)

thank you guys for reading the story and being kind to me and my ideas and having so many discussions over these characters that were once just in my mind, alone with me to tend to them. and to the if authors who have been here much longer, thank you for welcoming me with open arms. thank you to the group of if authors in particular who took me under their wing and gave me advice on how to handle things and how to move forward. you didn't have to come into my dm's and give me guidance or help me, but you did anyway and im eternally grateful!

I'm excited for 2024 to be the year that we really dive into the story. I still can't believe we're only 2 chapters in. it feels much longer, doesn't it? lololol

thanks!! <3

[this-is-most-definitely-mia]

Blue Lock but it’s a dating show

What?:- The Blue Lock boys come onto a dating show called ‘Goal to Your Heart’ where they try to outshine each other to win the heart of Y/n L/n. In this segment, our host will ask them why they think they should be the one to date her!

Warnings:- slursagi, suggestive themes for Shidou, fluff, crack

(jjk ver.)

Isagi Yoichi

“Our first contestant is blue lock’s ace himself! Everybody, please welcome Isagi Yoichi!” introduces the host.

Isagi smiles as the audience gives him a round of applause.

He sits on a leather chair next to the host seat, clad in a dark blue suit with his bangs neatly styled. “Thank you for having me here.”

“Haha,” the host gives a media-worthy laugh, “let’s get into it right away, we have a lot of contestants, after all. Mr.Isagi, what kind of guy would you say you are and what makes you stand out that would compel Ms.L/n to choose you?”

He thinks about if for a moment. “Honestly, I’ve been told by many people that I’m a polite, gentle and soft spoken guy, so that is the type of man I consider myself to be. And as for the second questi”—

Isagi is cut off by a German voice coming from the backstage. “As if!”

He abruptly turns around to the direction of the voice, his once kind expression replaced with a dark look. “Was that Kaiser?!”

A series of ear-splitting ‘beep!’s are inputted to censor the series of slurs that leave his mouth.

The host worriedly addresses the viewers. “After a short segment on the wonderful Glasses™️ recommended by no other than Chris Prince himself, let’s continue onto the next contestant!”

Rin Itoshi

“Next up is the star of Blue Lock, Rin Itoshi!”

The crowd hoots for him.

The boy himself is seated on the chair left with the previous contestant’s ass prints, with a bored expression. He wears a suit that complements his hair, which is falling on his face like usual.

The host turns to him now. “Well, Mr.Itoshi”—

“Call me Rin,” says, or well orders, a monotone voice.

The host clears his throat. “Ahem, Rin, then. Tell us Rin, why is a man like you on a dating show? You’re quite infamous for having a razor sharp focus on football, and football only. Do you think your nonchalance might sway Ms.L/n your way?”

“No, I don’t care about that girl. I’m here because I need ‘more exposure to the public for a better PR image’, or so my team says.” His face is as void of expression as before.

The host presses on. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? And totally not because Ms.L/n has intrigued you?”

His eyes slightly narrow. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

The host chuckles, “Who knows, Rin, maybe she might be the one to capture your heart after all.”

Bachira Meguru

“Here we have Bachira Meguru, the Dancing Bee!”

Bachira grins at the audience, giving a small wave. “Hello, everybody!”

“Alright, Bachira. Do you have any particular hobbies or interest?” asks the host.

Bachira scratched his chin. “Hmm, I can paint and play football…other than that I don’t really have much, sorry.”

The host shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry! That’s okay, you must be very good at those things, I’m sure. Anyways, why do you believe Ms.L/n is the one for you?”

Bachira smiles so widely it’s endearing. “She’s really really pretty! And she seems super nice too! Also my monster says she’s the one for me!”

The host’s professional smile falters. “Your…monster?”

Bachira nods. “Yes, my monster is my best friend! I’ve been playing with it for years! I do everything that my monster says! One time, it told me to switch my neighbors petrol with diesel, it was hilarious!”

“Alright, onto the the next one, heh…”

Nagi Seishiro

“Welcome the Genius, Nagi!”

“Hello,” says Nagi, who is slopped onto the chair. His posture is horrible, which wrinkles his suit. His messy hair matches it.

After a second of silently judging, the host continues. “So, Nagi, can you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

“Uh,” he starts, still lazily lounging, “I play football. Video games too. I don’t like to do chores, it’s a hassle. Oh, and, uh, Reo. That’s my best friend.”

“Wow, Nagi, that explains a lot,” the host eyes hum up and down. “Anyways, you said Reo was your best friend?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool. Everyone else is a bit boring.”

“Even Ms.L/n?” asks the host.

“She’s pretty cool too, I guess.”

“That’s all?”

…

“Moving on!”

Reo Mikage

“The chameleon, Mr.Reo!”

He smiles a charming smile at the audience, which earns him some hollers.

“I’m very glad to be here.”

“Haha, you’re one of the few! So tell us, what makes the heir of the Mikage Corporations stand out from the rest, other than your money, of course?”

He chuckles. “I’m a lot more than just a heir, I think many people forget. I’m very hardworking, as well as a jack of all trades, and a master of one, which is football. I can do many things, like cooking, cleaning, laundry and more, I have experience from taking care of my best friend, Nagi, you see.”

“That’s incredibly admirable, Mr.Reo! If there’s one message you could give to Ms.L/n right now, what would it be?”

He locks eyes with the camera. “Y/n, I assure you, I’m the best option ever! I would love you so much! So please, please, please”—

Shidou Ryusei

“Everybody, give a round of applause for Mr.Shidou, the devil of Blue Lock!” The host says with a smile, which hides the pain in his eyes. This was going to be a hard one.

Shidou smirks almost manically at the audience. His pink suit can almost distract the audience from his antennae. The keyword is almost.

“So, Mr.Shidou, if you were to take Ms.L/n on a date, how would that go about?” The host reads from the cards in his hands.

“Well, firstly, I’d take her skydiving, then maybe we’d go watch the chainsaw man movie (a/n:- keep your eyes out for that movie y’all) and then I take her back home and give her some insane back shots. It’d be so good, she’d be”—

The host’s eyes are wide. “Y-You can’t say that on live!”

The man still doesn’t stop.

Viewers aren’t surprised when an ad break comes on.

Micheal Kaiser

The host wipes the sweat on his brow with a handkerchief before continuing with a deep breath.

“Micheal Kaiser, the German prodigy!”

Micheal smirks slyly when his fangirls scream at the top of their lungs.

“Nice to meet you, everybody,” he says, which earns another round of screaming.

“So, Mr.Kaiser, what makes you stand out from the rest?”

He doesn’t waste a second. “What separates me from the rest is that I’m the Emperor and they are the peasants. It’s as simple as that. They couldn’t beat me if they tried.”

The host grins. Now this is good for the media, gosh, this show is gonna get so many viewers.

“Oh, really? Can you explain what is happening in this photo, then, Mr.Kaiser?”

A photo of Kaiser is displayed on the screen. In it, he looks devastated, on his knees, a complete opposite of the confident persona on the show.

His eyes widen. “Where did you get that photo?! It’s not real! It’s AI!”

He frantically looks into the camera lens. “Y/n, I swear this is fake! It’s government propaganda!”

Bonus! (everybody say thank you jazz!)

Sae Itoshi

The crowd cheers for a whole minute.

“Do I even need to introduce this guy?” jokes the host. “A round of applause for the Jewel of Japan, please!”

Even more cheers.

“I’m grateful for this opportunity,” say a PR trained voice.

“Mr.Itoshi! Let’s dive right into it! What about Ms.L/n caught your eyes? It’s a running joke in the tabloids that you never date and never will!”

Sae gives a professional smile, as tight as it is. “She is an incredibly talented person. She is the perfect girl, so who wouldn’t want a chance to date her?”

Sorry to all the fangirls, but this was recited from the pages his PR team gave him.

The host continues. “Tell us more about your relationship with your brother, we’re all dying to know!”

Oh Lord.

Authors note :- longest fic ever, how we doing chat? Also, let me know in the replies whether you want more parts of this, what characters i should add if i do, and whether i should do this for jjk too!

[kaiser-author-san-iii]

Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem) Creator!Reader

A/N: okay okay. I'm very sorry for this overdue chapter. I've been busy farming for primogems and playing Stardew Valley. I have joined many other fandoms, especially with the release of the Spider-Man Across the Spiderverse movie, and have been collecting the comics. Sue me /j. I have a lot of stories that need updating haha. But anyway, thank you so much for the support you guys have given me. It's fantastic! I'll be sure to continue with the updates whenever possible! Any questions, please DM. Any suggestions, DM me!

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially harder when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only the Fatui Skirmishers but the Fatui Harbingers?

Tags/Warnings: female reader, Creator!reader, Cult Au, contains spoilers of the Archon Quests and World Quests (read at your own risk)

Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora

Chapter 3 | To Be Aware and Be Prepared

<<<First <<<Last Next>>>

MASTERLIST

OPERA EPICLESE, FONTAINE

It had started as a normal day. As normal as it could possibly get with the centrism of Lady Furina and the citizens of Fontaine. There was a pause before it then burst. At first, it was seemingly unnoticeable, but then the forests and the landscape became livelier. It seemed brighter and adventurers saw a decrease in Hilichurls, and slimes, and even the Abyss Order stopped whatever they were doing to... dance? It was certainly a strange sight, but at least there was less activity where civilians were being harmed. In fact, this was being seen all around Teyvat thanks to the Adventure's Guild insight and informing each nation's current ruling governments and Archons.

The archons themselves felt a different presence. A presence they have felt once upon a time ago. The same could be said with a certain Court Judge of Fontaine, a certain fellow dressed in blue, his long platinum blond hair and stoic expressions, he definitely felt a power he thought wouldn't be seen again in all of Fontaine.

A being almost as old as Teyvat themselves, but nowhere as powerful as the one that gave them life.

Before he could even make a decision as tremendous as the one all nations must follow, he needed more information.

He needed to send out anyone to locate their Beloved Creator.

Neuvilette felt to go himself and search for Them, but he had his duties. He simply couldn't abandon them. He is a powerful figure in Fontaine and everyone would be suspicious of his actions if he were to leave his office. They would be asking questions.

No.

This needed to be done in an orderly fashion.

If they were indeed in Teyvat, they would appreciate a calm and happy welcome instead of chaotic and frantic for their faithful followers.

Himself included as he needed to prove he, and Fontaine, would welcome Them with open hearts.

The Divine Creator... has finally descended onto Teyvat once again.

---

LIYUE HARBOR, LIYUE

The trembling of the mountains. The color in front of him wherever he faced. The weather the past few days was beautiful and the people, especially merchants who traveled through treacherous waters to make it to Liyue were grateful for calm waters.

But he knew of the reason why everything seemed so... calm, so perfect as if Teyvat themselves was behaving its absolute best. Especially with word from other nations that the monsters and even the Abyss Order had ceased their attacks on villages and cities. They had seen these beings celebrate nonstop and were quite stumped about what was happening. But the former Geo Archon knew all too well...

Zhongli, better known as Morax or Rex Lapis, had felt it within the very rocks around him. As a devout believer and follower of the Divine Creator, he was quite familiar with the power and aura They possessed.

It's said that the Sovereign Dragons were the very first to proclaim their loyalty to the Divine Creator and when their time of rule ended, the Archons and Gods followed in their footsteps. As an Adepti in the form of a great Dragon, or Exuvia, he would be loyal to his beloved Creator, a form he greatly prided in thanks to the words of the Divine Creator many centuries ago.

But now they were here.

They have descended at long last like they promised.

His many years of patience and loyalty were finally being rewarded with the very presence of They themselves.

Zhongli, the devout follower he is, must find them. Were they alright? Yes, they were an all-powerful being, but recalling correctly, even the mighty have weaknesses and with the importance of the Divine Creator, there's always a danger no matter how beloved you are. He had to go himself to find him.

No.

He could ask the other Adepti to relentlessly search through all of Liyue, to leave no rock unturned and locate where their Grace may be.

---

ZAPOLYARNY PALACE, SNEZHNAYA

The days have gotten warmer and brighter in Snezhnaya.

What with the presence of the Divine Creator that is. It was all that the Fatui and even the citizens of Snezhnaya were talking about. There was nonstop activity in the palace as everyone scrambled to perfect it all for the Divine Creator.

You.

Though it wasn't as overwhelming since your nephew was right beside you, who happily took everything with stride and awe.

He even became attached to the very people that he spoke with on the first day here. And there was no way to separate them or to even have the heart to tell him not to speak with them since he took after his parents and family. Stubborn little nugget.

He especially favored Childe and Scaramouche. He was quite heartbroken when he left and never came back. But, he has been receiving gifts 'anonymously' once in a while.

Meanwhile, you spoke more with the rest to know more about this world. They all unanimously agreed that the mortal body you and your nephew both have currently is due to the fact of the long absence from Teyvat you had. Since your nephew hasn't set foot in Teyvat until now, it might take him longer to adjust to his birthright powers and titles. But he was nonetheless Heir of Teyvat.

The Little Prince.

"They're working really hard, aren't they?" His voice echoed in the halls as you and him were on their way to play outside yet again. He was still a child and with no video games around, it was good for him to be active. Childe once made comment about how strong he was and what a potential warrior your nephew could be with proper training. However, you had the last say and it was not yet time to think about that.

Snezhnaya is still a cold nation so even with Teyvat making it slightly less cold, you and your nephew had to bundle up. This is where Pantalone's gifts came in handy. While you were still bedridden due to your injuries, he called in all the tailors of Teyvat to create a wardrobe fit for you and your nephew: The Divine Creator and the Heir of Teyvat.

It was a sight to behold all the boxes and bags that arrived at the palace - clothing made from rare beasts and cloth. All for you and your nephew.

"If there's one thing you don't question about other people, Nugget. It's their beliefs. It has a certain power that a lot of people have yet to understand." You commented, stopping to adjust his personal Harbinger Coat. It was one of the few items Pantalone commissioned - with the Heir of Teyvat present, might as well commission a child-sized Harbinger Coat.

"I think Mister Pierro and Mister Pulcinella said something about that. I don't know... it's not our birthdays though. We're just people, aren't we?"

"I'm not certain either. We're a long way from home and it might be a while before we can go back. But don't worry, we're together and that's all that matters. All we have to do is-"

"Go with the flow?"

"Ah. I taught you so well." You laughed, quickly moving to playfully pinch his cheeks before resuming your brief walk outside. Everyone else had their duties and you didn't want to disturb them. They all seemed to be important in the political and military worlds.

That was something that kinda threw you off. Something like this world seemed like in the past. Like maybe 1800's innovative past since there were snipers and even giant mechanical machines that can move on their own or by being piloted. It was definitely fantasy - like a dream.

But even in a fantasy world, with aspects aimed at child entertainment, there is danger. Arlecchino and Columbina were telling you all about it with a brief history lesson and a bit of current information about Teyvat today. It was definitely something to think about if you plan to travel Teyvat with or without the Harbingers, especially with your nephew.

"Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise." The voice was ahead and looking up, you could see the masked man, the Doctor. Dottore was the one who ended up healing you from your injuries from the accident. They never did find the person responsible for your accident. Though they never will.

The healing process went smoothly and tended to you alongside your nephew.

"My nephew wanted to play outside again. He saw everyone was occupied and didn't wish to intrude so we thought we could walk for a bit."

"The Heir has no worries. If he or your Grace has a request, we're bound to stop and fulfill your wishes."

Your nephew didn't need to be told twice and quickly marched his way over to the blue-haired man, took his hand, and started walking to the exit to face another cold day.

"Doctor, please play with Auntie and I."

Dottore was quite the character. The others filled you in on what they have done and their opinions of each other. Dottore was the one with the most negative background but no one could deny the intelligence or genius in his mind. But to think this wasn't even his true form. The man was quite the genius that he made a number of clones of himself of each stage of his life. As a scientist, as a pursuer of knowledge, even the kind that's better left alone, he thirsted for it.

"Of course, Your Highness. Your Grace, would it be troubling to accompany you two?"

He also performed...some experiments that in this world were unethical, from what you heard. But...they weren't the worst. No, there was definitely worse. You weren't justifying what he had done, you weren't one to stand on a higher moral ground than anyone else, you at least attempted to understand why. That is exactly what you concluded when you decided to speak and interact with Dottore.

"Not at all. My nephew has grown attached to you and the others."

The walk outside didn't take long. It was short and slow to appreciate the snowfall and the area around. Various Cryo Crystalflies quickly flew their way to your nephew and he gave chase all while a variety of animals appeared and decided to play with the Heir. Teyvat knew the little Prince's love for animals. You made sure he didn't stray too far, your eyes never leaving his form while Dottore kept the same pace as you, taking a few glimpses at you every now and then. There was a small silence - but it was comfortable.

"Why?" You broke the silence and Dottore turned his head, his mask hiding any expression he could have made.

"Pardon?"

"The Fatui. Why was it formed? I want the truth." Your eyes still focused on your nephew who danced along with the Crystalflies, laughing and happily throwing snow in the air before then falling and making snow angels.

Your reason for asking is with who you two have been identified as, and with a seemingly unknown way of going back home, you two will probably be dragged into this world's politics. Before you get involved, you have to see what it is all about. Would it be worth it? Are you currently with evil people? Misunderstood people? What is their goal?

Would it be dangerous to involve your nephew?

"There is quite a lot that a mere moment is not enough to disclose the Tsaristas and our organization's goal."

"Then I shall listen. I hear talk and before I pass 'judgment', I want to understand. I hear talk of other gods, but the mere mention of them besides the Tsarista, it's with contempt."

Dottore, like many of his colleagues and subordinates, has heard the stories, the creation of Teyvat that was retold by the very dragons they created and had them oversee Teyvat. And then Celestia arrived. They had become power-hungry, drunk from the love and attention the Divine Creator gave to them before. When the creator left, Celestia took over and everything changed. Teyvat became different, peace wasn't an option.

Wars started, innocents perished...

Nations demolished.

"The Tsarista fell in love with the idea of how Teyvat was before you left. A Teyvat where all lived in peace. Then Celestia came. Thousands of years ago, they proclaimed that seven gods would be chosen to rule over one of the seven nations. From the thousands of Gods that fought, along with mortals who fought to survive another day, Seven were indeed chosen to represent their following element. But even for Celestia that was not enough. Your Grace was fond of a nation, Khan'ri'ah. Khan'ri'ah was a nation that ruled without the intervention of a God, an Archon. So.. one day, Celestia proclaimed Khan'ri'ah to be sinners, a nation that went against the Divine Creator and was thus destroyed. The Tsarista understood, her eyes opened to what was being done, and isolated herself, to find people who shared her opinions on Celestia and the Divine besides you, Your Grace."

That was just a brief summary that you recreated after your talk with Dottore. He was quite honest and with a few words, you were able to piece together everything. And to think he was kicked out of the Akademiya because of his practices and the murder of a fellow scholar.

This was clearly a case of the black-white-gray morality.

Things aren't always what they seem.

"Several weeks ago, I thought I was human. A mortal who lived a mundane life who loves her nephew like her own. I'm here and I'm told I'm the God that created your world, but I somehow have no recollection of it."

The walk continued as your nephew seemed to head further away from you and Dottore. Dottore was listening. He knew you weren't done talking and he couldn't wait to hear. Would he hear criticism of the divine from the very being who created it in the first place? What kind of wisdom would she bestow that may rival the God of Wisdom herself.

"Pierro and the Tsarista mentioned that my memories of such events and my divinity would come back to me slowly. Especially for my nephew. He's still young, curious but young."

"Your Grace, you need not fear. The Fatui, us, the Harbingers, will be by your side for we and The Tsarista are loyal to no other than you and the Heir."

"But what if I am not who you think I am?" You asked, looking down at your arms, remembering the injuries and the blood that oozed. You remembered the color and thought it wasn't proof enough, but the gold blood was there. You even requested to see the bloodied gauze that had a clear gold color. The sparkle it held, the amount of power that it had.

"Highly unlikely. Every man, woman, and child knows firsthand that the Divine Creator's blood is unlike any living being in Teyvat. Eyewitnesses from your first time here have written quite a bit of information of you. There is no mistake. The Tsarista would have been the first to know."

"Auntie! Doctor! Look!" Your nephew shouted and quickly ran to you, the heavy atmosphere dissipating as your nephew smiled, his hands cupped to hide what it was that he was bound to show you two. Slowly, he opened his hands and a small light blue glow appeared and in the blink of an eye, a small Cryo Crystalfly appeared and took flight, joining the other Cryo crystalflies that surrounded the three.

Creation of new life.

A power only found in the Divine.

What kind of world did she find herself in?

TAGLIST:

@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno, @anonclyde, @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir

@yunsblog030, @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33, @nasidibakar, @yoriichi-second-wife, @lilybythevalley, @esthelily, @liansh3ng, @bubbles-lounge, @chidouna, @okecaiditmemay, @angelofdarkness2, @emmbny, @vxsire, @mmeatt, @fybfjn, @nickey-diano, @reende-29,

If I missed anyone, let me know! I tried tagging some people, but tumblr must be weird. I probably will be posting this on Ao3 too. Thank you so much for your kind words, everyone! I hope to write more!

[livielll]

"I'm glad i work here"

tsukishima x femreader -> teacher! ||

timeskip.

|| summary; a museum worker that barely has feelings falls inlove with a teacher. ||

contains agggtm book characters HAHA (love agggtm 💗)

"kids, pack your things again! were about to arrive at the museum!!"

you yelled, but not a —loud, angry one. perhaps a soft one. but you still yelled anyways. these kids are kindergarten kids, those ones who barely listen. but some do listen and you live for those types of kids.

you got out of your seat and went to a particular seat ;; a seat where 2 kids were fighting about what show was better. of course they didn't listen, so you took matters into your own hands and seperated them both.

"hey hey, stanley, ravi. quit that." you said sternly but immediately felt bad when you saw tears forming on little stanley's face. "okay, how about you sit with me now stanley?" you asked, carefully. not wanting to hurt his soul again. he nodded, and reached out for your hand.

you held his small hand in yours, the other one holding his bag as you guys walked through the small gap between the seats and walked over yours.

It was not long until the bus arrived at the museum. the teachers went out first, obviously, leading the kids, making sure none of them ran away or got left behind.

they did a head count and by the time they were done, the bus left and parked somewhere. you exhaled in relief, that the journey going here wasn't that bad as the past field trip journeys you experienced.

you were leading your little group, about 15 kids? ah, 16. but one of them tried to catch your attention.

"miss..miss..." she mumbled. it was pip. holding onto the hem of your shirt tightly.

you bent over a bit, trying to look at her in the eye. "yes?"

"I don't like crowded places..." she said. and held tighter. "I'm scared."

your eyes soften as you hear the frightened pip. "its gonna be okay. you wanna walk next to me?" you suggested and patted her head to assure her it was alright.

"yes.." she said and walked next to you.

it wasn't unusual or not normal for kids to come here for field trips. it happened frequently. kei, tsukishima kei, the museum worker saw the amount of kids, the group of kids that stood and chatted in the lobby. he sighed deeply, not wanting to do this. he'd rather just be the tourist and not the person who has to yell "welcome to the sendai museum!!!!" but he was assigned to anyways.

"alright, attention everyone! welcome to the sendai-" he got cut off, by looking at the teacher, you. damn. his eyes followed your every move, where you stood in front of the kids, when you tried to tell them to be quiet and listen.

"tsukishima.." a nearby worker hissed and he regained his focus, but not fully as his gaze still lingered on you.

"right..yes..are there anymore questions??" tsukishima asked. for no more.

"oh oh i do!!" a kid raised his hand. and tsukishima quietly groaned to himself. he had been answering these questions for almost 4 minutes.

"why are the dinosaurs extinct now? couldn't they just exist? like why didn't they just eat??" he asked curiously, scratching his chin.

"well.." tsukishima tried to make it interesting. "they randomly disappeared one night. no one knows where they went." he wiggles his fingers, some kids got the spook and some laughed. but his attention was caught by you, shaking your head and chuckling.

he smiled to himself as he saw you, he didn't even get to know you better, but at least he gets to see you smile. a smile that made the cold tsukishima melt. and thats the best part of this torture of his.

i actually don't know if i wanna make this longer

m.list here!

[daflangstlairde-art]

Helloo I'm new here and uh I saw we can talk about anything UT related- And man, I know no one in my friend group who knows as much UT as I do and it's *sob* anyways How are you? I just made homemade nutella :P It's fun to cook My brain is silly, on one side, I love Fresh, Geno and Error being brothers BUT ON THE OTHER SIDE, I love Geno and Error being the same person, because the ANGST it can give for Afterdeath man

Doodle suggestion, maybe drawing Error stuck in his strings? Could be a fun (or very hard) thing to practice :3

"Pfft need- need a little help there haha-?" "No. I don't even know what you're talking about."

Sorry I took so long to get to this, I did want to draw your suggestion!! With bonus Live Ink Reaction because they're silly xD

Gosh, I feel you, the Classic to Geno to Error (to Fatal Error) pipeline is sooo good, never not fun for plot. Just the other day my RP partner and I were discussing how hilarious the idea of Afterdeath and Errorink are if they exist in the same canon xD "I'm triple-traumatized now. Do I want the caring and attentive husband who wants nothing more than to spoil me? No. No I want the freaky soulless creacher now" - in general, the Afterdeath to Destructive Death transition is great But just like you said, Geno, Error and Fresh being brothers is soo fun too xD I was just starting a reread of the Momma CQ comic recently, it's so great

Also welcome !!!! Not sure if you're new to Tumblr or to the UTMV fandom but welcome !!! I really hope you enjoy your stay haha <33

I'm drawing Ink Sans daily for as long as I can! Send me doodle ideas (outfits, poses, expressions, ships, headcanons, etc etc) (or other UTMV skeletons, though Ink may still be added for garnish) (or feel free to just chat with me about Undertale and UTMV and Deltarune <3)

[creatureeditsandredesigns]

I don’t know how I feel about this quick design I whipped up based on a few loose concept ideas for a redesign of Beelzebub, but anyway!

I wanted to challenge myself by keeping the following: some sort of animal anthro as the base instead of making her just a fly because making her a fly would be too easy and I wanted to challenge my brain, and an orange color scheme to fit the gluttony color scheme.

I based her off the following; spotted hyenas, bearded vultures, honey pot ants, tsetse flies, and loosely a certain vampiric family from RE8 lol. The first two are known to eat even bones, which I feel ties into the gluttony sin with her being able to consume basically anything. Honey pot ants keep her honey theme with a twist, in this redesign it is said that she makes the sweetest drinks with the honey from her honey pot ant inspired tail, but its addictive and ultimately very bad for you because its made from everything she eats. Those who learn how to overcome their gluttony eventually find the drinks taste like garbage.

She takes the form of a hyena-like being in her casual form, but is made up of a billion tsetse flies. She can shapeshift and heal herself fast with them, and her tongue is two maggots that can consume anything. RE8 inspired me with the flies idea to tie into Beelzebub’s original demonology, which led to finding tsetse flies, who also drink blood. Because she is made up of flies, she is weak to fire and regrows more flies as she eats.

She was given the nickname “Bee” as a reference to her honey pot tail, and it also looks like a bee tail with its stripes. Those who threaten her also get “stung”, but really, they’re getting bit by a bunch of tsetse flies that move together.

Below are the following assets I used for this edit!

Still on the fence about the design, mostly the clothing as I suck as clothing so I threw on some loose fabrics the flies would find and throw on her to help conceal the “younger” flies as they mature, and gave her hair that matches the style of other characters in the franchise. But the hair is also subject to changing in the future if I try this design again. Maybe a more melted look? A mohawk? Idk! Suggestions for clothing ideas are also welcome!!

Again using critical tags cuz idk what this falls under but I feel like this leans more to the critical tags since I’m also changing things up haha

[myownwholewildworld]

iii. like obsidian & quartz - acta, non verba

chapter 2 | series masterlist | ao3 | main masterlist | chapter 4 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: your efforts to get the ball rolling on your plan get shunted aside by marcus' chivalry. a/n: hey, hi, hello! i'm sorry it's taken me a month to post the third chapter, but here it is! 💖 i do find posting this series a bit nerve-wracking, just because i have the feeling that this plot is bigger than my writing skills so i keep wondering if i'm making it justice. but i'm rolling with it anyways haha as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. some impure thoughts. one account of a handjob (👀). sexual tension. misogyny. a fair bit of swearing. sword fight, death, wounds, blood... you know the drill. dialogue in italics means it’s spoken in gaelic (unless stated otherwise, i.e. latin) when marcus and callie are in the same scene. marcus is 48, ofc!reader is 26. w/c: ~9.9k. (i'm truly sorry) dividers by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)

“Here again, wee lass?” Cormag’s croaky voice caught you off guard.

You jumped in place and almost hit the back of your head against the shelf above.

You were bent over a pile of baskets in the kitchen, trying to count how many wild parsnips there were left. With your family gone, you had to look after your people. You worried there was not much left to eat, but the old cook seemed to be good at rationing. The Romans had no measure when it came to food, rapidly dwindling the stock saved for the village. There were way too many mouths to feed now, and the first harvest of the root vegetables would not be for at least another six months.

Your blood boiled when you saw the feasts the Romans were served every night while the servants had a measle chunk of bread and a watered-down broth. You were all living under tyranny — one you hoped to topple. Only if fucking Marcus Acacius was not such a tight cunt, you would be closer to your goal.

It wasn’t for your lack of trying though. Every night you were as suggestive as you could, considering how many pairs of eyes were watching you — enemies’ and allies’ alike. The first lusting after you, wondering if you were a whore who could warm up their bed at night, and the second curious about what game you were up to. Not many people were privy to your plan.

“Ah, ye ogre! You scared the shit out of me,” you chuckled, hand on pounding heart, when you turned around to face him.

Cormag’s thick brows knitted together, his big, round nose red with rage.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you around here until at least tomorrow,” he barked, arms folded with disapproval.

“Come on, Cormag. I’ll work tonight and then—”

“Nay, I don’t want to hear it. You are not working tonight. You’ve worked the last eight nights in a row,” he said between gritted teeth. “I want you to go home to Bonnie and rest.”

You huffed, now your turn to cross arms.

“I need no rest. I am fresh as a daisy, couldn’t be better,” you lied through your teeth.

The reality was you were knackered. You had been helping out in the kitchens day and night, much to Cormag’s despair. If you were not doing a stock check, you were shuffling stuff around for the next meal or cleaning after those filthy, mannerless soldiers. And you were the savages, the cheek they had was beyond you.

“Don’t bullshit me, I can see right through it. Those grey circles under your eyes are screaming for some sleep,” he replied, getting closer to you.

His heavy hands landed on your shoulders, forcing you to turn around and pushing you towards the door. You resisted, digging your heels into the cobblestone.

“Cormag, mas e do thoil e (please)! If I go home, I’m just going to get bored. I need something to occupy my mind with,” you pleaded with him, but he was deaf as a rock to your request.

“The whole point of sleeping is to empty your mind, not to occupy it with something,” he stopped dragging you once you were through the arch.

Sleep had evaded you since your whole family had been murdered. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Marcus’ gladius sinking in your father’s belly, your brothers’ and sister’s intertwined arms as they burnt to ashes, your mother’s mangled body while the Earth swallowed her whole. As if you didn’t have enough demons as it was, tragedy had knocked on your door once more — unannounced, greedy even.

You spun around, flashing your eyelashes at him, puppy eyes and all. Cormag just shook his head no, unwavering, and pointed towards the corridor that would lead you outside.

“I want you out of my sight for one day, fear beag (little one). Humour me, I beg you,” it was almost a prayer, but you knew Cormag did not have one sanctified bone in his body.

“Okay, just one night. But I’ll be back tomorrow!” You shouted over your shoulder, a proper threat, as you sauntered towards the hall.

It was still the early evening, but the courtyard was brimming with life. There were a few legionaries dotted around, swords at the ready. They seemed to train late into the night before they burst in into the great hall to eat and drink like gluttons.

As your feet slithered through the wet grass, you suddenly felt a heavy pair of eyes on you. Brown, beautiful— no, dreadful eyes, you were sure. You didn’t need to look to know that Marcus was watching your every step — your body burnt hot every time he would study you with so much intensity.

And he was doing that again, just now. You debated whether to lock eyes on him or not, but it was a lost fight. Soon enough, your green orbs located him in his black and golden armour walking towards the keep, mud up to his knees and a wild look on his face. One you had not seen before — a crack in his steadfast façade.

Your brows slightly furrowed, almost coming to a halt, while you tried to understand what was different. Then you saw it: his sword was stained with blood. He was not coming back from training, but… from battle? Your heartrate spiked; your eyes slightly widened as your fingers clutched a fist of your long skirt.

What battle? What had happened? What was going on? Who had he hurt? Did you know them? Had you lost someone dear? Was death knocking at your door once more?

You tamed your features as he approached, putting on your best act as you calmed down your quick breathing. His eyes never left yours, not while he walked from the portcullis to the keep, not once.

As he got to where you were, he nodded in your direction, as if to say, “don’t worry, I’m okay.” You then understood he mistook your concern, thinking it was for him. Oh, how wrong he was… You were not worried about him in the slightest, but about whoever succumbed to his sword.

As soon as he and his retinue disappeared into the keep, you bunched your skirt up and started running towards the village, dreading what you might find there.

Five minutes later, you were in the town’s square. A crowd was gathered around the stone well. The shrieking cry of a mother cradling his dead son pierced through the silence, boring into your heart.

“My wee lad, mo mhac (my son)!” Her screams formed a knot in your throat, one so tight you feared you could not breath.

You forged your way through the multitude, finding the woman on her knees, hugging her son close to her chest. You knew them — you knew everyone in your lands, if not by face, by name at least. These you knew by face and name.

Torcall was standing right behind her, blood on his clothes indicating he had been the one bringing the lad back for his mother to mourn.

Torcall’s sombre expression prevented you from saying anything, even when you looked at him for answers. He just shook his head no and turned around to speak to a young man. You quickly recognised him too, Dòmhnall — son to the grieving woman, brother to the deceased boy. Dòmhnall nodded to Torcall’s words and vanished.

Torcall made his way towards you and pushed you aside.

“What the fuck is going on, Torcall?”

“People are growing restless, Callie. The Romans were by the firth, training in the murky waters. Some lads saw Acacius alone for one second and thought they could take him,” he didn’t need to explain what the outcome had been.

“What were they thinking? Taking on the General? How old were they?”

“Around ten and five. When Acacius killed the boy, his friends panicked, dragged him out and retreated. I found them in the woods. The others were lucky to escape alive,” Torcall sighed heavily and so did you.

“We all need to be careful here. We’ve got to play the long game. Once we have enough information from them, then we can start planning some skirmishes to diminish their numbers, but not before,” you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration as you both walked towards Bonnie’s.

“People don’t listen to reason when they feel threatened,” he looked at you askance, then back down to his feet, momentarily lost in thought. “You need to speak to some people, let the rumour spread that you’re working towards freedom — otherwise they’ll feel like they’ve been forgotten, and rightfully so. Let people know that they will need to be ready to fight when you command them. Give them some hope, something to look forward to.”

You didn’t want to show your hand too early, but Torcall was partially right. If this continued, if people tried to get their own justice, it would end up being more tragic than what ought to be. You could not endure more senseless loss of life, your clansmen dying for naught.

Your plan was so clear in your head, a simple to-do list —gain Marcus’ trust, kill off his army little by little, then finish him once he was the last man standing— but yet you hoped effective. If someone deviated, if someone betrayed you, then it would all be over way too soon. And you would end up like your mother — left for dead, hung in a cage off the keep as if you were a rat exposed to the elements.

“My athair’s retinue are already in the know,” you thought out loud, lips pouting with doubt. “But I did make them swear they would not tell a soul.”

Torcall propped open the wooden door to Bonnie’s crannog, the creaking noise welcoming you to the only home you knew now.

“I’ll go speak to my cousins, Seumas and Anndra, tomorrow. I know how eager they are to start a war, so this might appease them. I don’t want people up in arms just yet, we’ll wait for the Romans to be at their lowest,” you whispered back to him.

“Uhm, maybe—” Torcall’s voice got drown by the ones of his children.

“Auntaidh, auntaidh (auntie)!”The synchronised cacophony of your niece and nephew swept away part of the guilt you were feeling, forcing a wide smile onto your lips.

“I don’t think she’s here tonight, Marcus,” Maximus jest made his head turn to his direction.

With a cocked brow, Marcus feigned ignorance, the wooden fork in his hand mindlessly pushing around a lone meatball on his plate.

“Who?” He asked, as if neither of them knew who Maximus was referring to.

Your presence in the great hall every night had become a welcomed sight, one he had grown used to over the last few days. Not because it was soothing, but because it caused havoc. That was what he welcomed — someone who was not taken aback by his presence, someone who would hold his gaze and wouldn’t fold, someone who would shamelessly say his first name the way you said it nine nights ago.

And if he was entirely honest with himself, he also welcomed your advances. Not that he was showing it, but every taunting Dux Meus (my General/Leader/God), every suggestive glance, every time you touched him, his skin would set ablaze. It was just a harmless game, as long as it remained just that. He was here to do a job, and nothing should get in the way of that — even if a red-haired, green-eyed nymph tempted him down the path of infidelity.

How hypocritical of him to think of all the things he would do to you if given the chance, when he despised his wife for doing exactly that.

“What was her name? Connie? Charlie?” Maximus tapped his chin with one finger, pretending to think.

“Callie,” Marcus bit the bait without realising.

“Ah, yes. Callie. How could you forget when the poor woman has been throwing herself at you for more than a week now and you have given her nothing in return?” The commander observed with an ample grin. “Have you claimed her yet? Fucked her?”

His whole body went rigid with rage at Maximus’ provocation. Sometimes he hated his friendship with him, the liberties he took even though he was above the man in the command chain. If it wasn’t because there were still people on the dais, Marcus would have punched him square in the jaw to shut him up.

Instead, his eyes darted to his friend’s with a dark warning in them. Maximus laughed it off, leaning back on his chair and looking at him with a mischievous smile.

“I’ll take that as a no then. I bet she’s tired of being ignored and that’s why she’s not here tonight. Maybe she’s fucking one of your legionaries in the barracks right now. Damn, maybe I’ll do that myself—”

“Are you fucking done?” He interrupted, the legs of his chair screeching as he dragged it backwards to stand up.

“Have I touched a nerve now?” Maximus’ smile just grew bigger as he stood up too, palming Marcus’ shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, old friend. Helping you, actually. You need to get laid, clear your mind of war for one night. Your hair is greyer now than what it was a month ago.”

“I don’t need your advice nor your teasing. It may be all fun and games to you, but there’s a lot on the line here,” Marcus sneered as they walked down the corridor formed by cheery and drunk soldiers sat at their tables.

He wasn’t worried about his reputation but all the debts he owed. Not him, specifically, but his wife. The lush life she led at home would ruin him eventually.

Maximus’ demeanour changed, hands laced on his back and head bowed down in deep thought.

“I know what’s at stake, Marcus. We all are doing what we can to find the instigator,” only then Marcus realised that Maximus was talking about the attempt on his life that afternoon. “Valerius’ henchman was able to follow the boy into the forest. He’s definitely dead.”

He said it as if it was good news, but that death would haunt Marcus at night. It had been just a boy, probably not more than ten and six, who had met his fate at his sword. Marcus had tried to keep him at bay, but when the boy lunged forwards with a small knife on his hand, he basically impaled himself on the gladius Marcus was holding to ward him off.

“Good to hear,” he replied with a flat, lacking voice.

Maximus angled his head, then shook it.

“Good night, Marcus. I’ll let you know if I see your Callie entertaining the men in the barracks,” Maximus waved him goodbye, light-heartedly.

“Sod off,” he rolled his eyes, before turning the corner.

A tiny part of him wanted to go after his friend and check himself, make sure you were not fucking another man.

That thought made him frown. What you did or didn’t do was none of his business. In fact, you were a free woman and could do as you pleased. Even if that meant you were not pleasing him.

You threw the saddle on Kelpie’s back — she was your late mother’s horse. The horse was as black as coal with a shiny, short coat. She was a young one, so still needed a fair amount of training — at least, she was properly socialised. Mòrag had died before she could train her newest addition. This horse was, most probably, the closest you would ever be to your màthair (mother).

The mare neighed loudly when you tried to adjust the saddle on her belly and moved around nervously, trotting in place to put distance between you two. You shushed her, caressing her muzzle and chin groove.

“Shh, shhh… It’s okay, àlainn (lovely). I see you don’t like that, do you?” You whispered in a calming manner until the mare quietened down.

You leaned forward until your forehead pressed against hers and then placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Kelpie’s nose before reaching towards her back to remove the untied saddle.

“Barebacking it is then,” the idea didn’t thrill you, but you didn’t fancy walking all the way to Bun Craobh (Bunchrew).

That morning you had gone out to the barn to speak to Anndra and Seumas, only to find out they were no longer there. When you went back into the crannog, Bonnie mentioned they had left the morning prior. Something about a carpentry job in the next town over required their attention, or that was they had told their mother.

You had a nagging feeling that wasn’t true. The siblings were ardent defenders of your family, so you knew they would not stand idly. What brought them to Bun Craobh though, you were not sure but intended on finding out.

You led Kelpie out of the stables and into the courtyard of your castle. You hoped no one would notice you sneaking out with a horse that allegedly didn’t belong to you, but you were obviously out of luck — had been for a while now.

“Hey, puella (young lady)! Where do you think you’re going with that horse?” One of the roman soldiers cut you off, hands on hips and a deep frown. You recognised him from sitting on the dais with Marcus, although you didn’t know his name.

You cursed him under your breath, but composed a sweet smile, when you just wanted to knee his balls and run past him.

“I’m in need of a horse. We are out of some herbs and spices in the kitchens, so I was going to visit the town’s healer…” You explained with your eyes averted down and fingers laced in front of you.

“I’ll take care of this, Cassius,” Marcus appeared on his back, a heavy, broad and very masculine hand landing on the shoulder of the man in front of you.

For a brief second, you saw a flicker of disgust in his eyes, but Cassius quickly masked it with a deferent nod before walking away. Your eyes followed him, curious as to what you had just seen. Did Cassius despise Marcus? Why?

“Where are you going, Callie?” The General’s deep, throaty voice made you look in his direction.

For a second, you got lost in his chocolate eyes — there was an almost imperceptible sadness in them, a tinge of regret that seemed to haunt him every day and every night. How could that possibly be when he dispatched people to their deaths so mindlessly, so effortlessly?

“Cormag needs some bits for his cooking, Dux Meus,” you explained again, and there it was.

His irises darkened with the last two words, the sadness transforming into something else — liquid darkness. You held his gaze, hypnotised by how the desire rapidly kicked the sadness out of him. And you knew he was holding onto every bit of his control, taming his body not to react to your words — but his eyes he could not govern. They were a window to his lust.

You fought with your own craving. The way he stared at you made your skin run hot as ember and slick pool in your slit. You had been wondering what it would feel like to be fucked raw by a man like Marcus Acacius; you had even fantasized about it a few nights.

An donas dubh (dammit)! If it wasn’t for how crowded Bonnie’s crannog was, you would have even touched yourself to the thought of him plunging in and out between your thighs.

That idea was so foreign to you, it took you aback.

“Is that okay?” His question lingered; Marcus’ head tilted with knitting brows.

You looked at him doe eyed as you came out of your wet haze. Fuck, stop imagining things, he’s right there talking to you! You reprimanded yourself before blinking a few times to clear your mind.

“I-I’m sorry, Dominus (Master)?” The slight stammer in your voice was not faked this time around.

“I said I’ll accompany you to wherever you need to go. It’s not safe out there, even less so for a lonely maid serving the Romans,” he repeated.

That offer shocked you because you were not expecting such gallantry from him. You also had to smother a snicker — you were not at risk of anything, this was your land, your people. But Marcus did not know that.

“Oh, it’s not necessary, my lord. I know my way around—”

“I insist. Please,” he added, his fists curled on his sides.

If the look in his eyes indicated anything, that would be that Marcus Acacius would not accept no for an answer. And that would mess your whole itinerary up, because you could not take him to Bun Craobh, in case your cousins were really planning something. Now you would really have to go to Naimh’s new cottage, even though that was not your plan at all.

“Awright, aye,” you conceded, an unwilling smile crooking your lips.

“I didn’t see you last night in the great hall,” Marcus broke the surprisingly comfortable silence.

He was riding on your left and you couldn’t help but turn your head to watch him. So, your efforts were going somewhere at last. For eight nights you had been on his heels, serving him as if that was what you were born to do. Your attempts at seducing him began to be so obvious, you could hear the other maids giggling to themselves every time you leaned over his shoulder, offering him a clear sight of your generous cleavage.

Even his soldiers had noticed. You had been so obvious, other men thought you were a pleasure woman and that was invitation enough for some of them to try and reach for your ass whenever you approached their tables. Disgusting behaviour, but you had to laugh your way out of it and slap some hands so no one would take offense at your rejection.

“Cormag would not let me work again. I really wanted to be there though,” you said truthfully, watching him in the corner of your eye.

Marcus straightened his back, as if suddenly uncomfortable, and studied your surroundings.

It was still early afternoon, but it seemed to be later due to the thick tree canopy above you. You were travelling westward through the dense forest that neared Beauly Firth. Naimh had moved to a crannog in the road to Bun Craobh after her home in Loch Moy had been burnt to ashes. Thankfully, she had not been home when it happened. A small win in your book.

“I see. He worries about you,” he noted, jaw tight as he spoke.

“Aye, he’s like a father to me,” that old git really was. “I should be back to work tomorrow.”

“Good,” he replied without even thinking and you knew he did not intend to say that out loud. “I mean, you’re one of the few people who speak Latin. It’s hard to communicate with the rest,” Marcus added swiftly to veil his slip of tongue.

You smiled to yourself, realising this was the first time you two were alone, away from prying eyes.

“You only need to ask, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice charged with the right hint of suggestion and provocation.

His neck snapped in your direction at your words.

“Ask what?”

He knew exactly what. The man was stubborn as a mule, playing hard to get. But he was not immune to your advances, as much as he wanted to conceal his lust for you.

“You know what,” was your simple answer before spurring Kelpie on with the heels of your leather shoes.

You spotted a small hut between some trees off the main path, that had to be the crannog that Naimh had found in her search for a new home. You had seen that cottage a few times before, always abandoned and eerie — legend said that was where the wisps would lead you at night.

Kelpie sprinted towards it, and you heard Marcus’ horse neigh a few feet behind you. You needed to act fast before good ol’ Naimh gave you away and revealed your identity. So, the moment you dismounted and Naimh was under the frame of the main door, you threw your arms around her neck.

She was a fragile woman in her late sixties, white hair and wrinkling skin. Her nose a tad too prominent, her lips wide and big, slanted eyes. She was tiny too, with a crouched back that made her look even smaller.

“Naimh!” You exclaimed excitedly, and then whispered in her ear in Gaelic, “He doesn’t know who I am. Call me Callie, play along, please.”

The old woman stilled and then patted your back in understanding.

“Ah, my sweet Callie, so good to see you. I started to think you’d forgotten about this old crone. This how you treat the elderly?” She spoke in your native language, which meant Marcus would not understand a word.

“He doesn’t understand, Naimh, you don’t need to put on the best act of your life, just be mindful of my name,” you sniggered, holding her hands with both of yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“So have I, leannan (darling), so have I,” she squeezed your hands before dropping hers to her sides, her eyes squinting with a bit of hatred.

Marcus cleared his throat, standing right behind you. You stepped aside.

“General, this is Naimh, our town’s healer. Naimh, this is General Acacius,” you introduced them in Latin, although you were sure Naimh did not understand much.

“My pleasure,” he bowed his head slightly while Naimh stared him down as if he was a snake trying to steal the eggs off her nest.

The old woman just grunted and walked back inside, not responding to his pleasantry.

Shrugging, you looked at Marcus.

“Don’t mind her too much, she’s not really fond of anyone,” that much was true.

“She’s fond of you,” he pointed out with a raised brow.

“Well, yeah, that’s because I pester her a lot. I can be very insisting.”

“You definitely are,” he muttered under his breath, not intended for your ears, but you heard that.

With a sufficient grin, you turned on your heels and got inside the crannog with Marcus right behind you.

By the time you were done with the visit, it was almost pitch-black outside. The weather, as everything in the Highlands, had turned too — it was dreich and drizzling, a light, damp mist hanging low, close to the ground.

You attached the thread of the little hemp sack around your waist as you waved goodbye to Naimh. She had given you an assortment of different spices she had stocked up: wild mountain thyme, dried pepper dulse and coriander grass. You were not sure if Cormag needed them, but you had to keep up with the lie in Marcus’ presence.

Both horses were lazily grazing around. They looked so different—Marcus’ white as a quartz, yours black as obsidian—they reminded you of how opposite you both were. Ironic, really, that the mare and the stallion were now approaching each other and rubbing necks.

“Kelpie,” you called her. Your mother’s horse barely looked at you, too busy grooming the back of Marcus’ horse with her teeth. “Hey!”

Kelpie almost brayed like a donkey, showing her annoyance, before she cantered towards you with a loud neigh.

“Oi, calm down. We’ve got to go back,” you asked of her, grabbing the reins.

“Kelpie? That’s an unusual name,” Marcus said while he jumped onto his horse’s back graciously.

Your mother had let you choose the name when it was first born, in one of your last visits to your family home as a married woman. A brief respite shared with Mòrag where you had forgotten who you were married to — you had spent the whole afternoon coming up with uncommon names and had finally settled for Kelpie.

“It’s a creature that inhabits lochs. They are shape-shifting spirits that usually take the form of a black horse,” you explained as you managed to get on top of the mare. A difficult task, considering there was no saddle to hold onto. “Some people say they are evil because they prey on us. They drag their victims into the water, devour them, and throw the entrails to the water's edge, so they can lure their next casualty. I think that’s just survival. There is no treachery in their nature.”

By the time you had finished talking, you were by Marcus’ side. His eyebrows almost touched each other, and you wondered if he had picked on your cutting remark about treachery. Whether he did or not, you did not know.

“Are they just stories to scare children away from deep water or are they real?” He questioned after a deliberating minute as both of your horses resumed the path ahead.

“I have never seen a kelpie myself, but I know folk who have perished to them,” you shrugged, the image of dismembered bodies by Loch Ness coming back to you. “It’s not a pretty picture.”

“I bet. Your people seem to have many stories about lurking creatures. I have seen the tapestries telling the story of the dragon-like monster living in the lake nearby,” he said with a pinch of incredulity in his voice.

“Loch. We call them lochs, not lakes,” you corrected him.

“Sorry, loch,” he said back with a soft ch, head cocked towards you. It was a good attempt.

“And that would be Nessie. She’s a staple around here, everyone loves her,” you joked. “She’s a Kelpie, but one which transforms into some sort of dragon. I’m not sure though, never seen her myself. But if you ever speak to Cormag, he’ll tell you all about her. Best mates they are, so he says.”

As soon as you spoke of the cook, you realised your mistake. You were talking too much, telling him all about a land he hated, a land he wanted to steal from you. A land he would destroy along with all its people. There was no point in explaining to him all about what made Caledonia special if he was here to wreck your life.

“The cook?” He pressed and you simply nodded, remaining silent.

For ten minutes neither of you talked. Weirdly, the silence was not ever bothersome. You didn’t have the need to fill it, and neither did he.

Until he did.

“My stud’s name is Faun,” he muttered, resuming the dead conversation where you had left it.  The stallion’s ears perked up at the sound of his name. “They are half-human, half-goat creatures. They inhabit forests like this back home. Some say they instil fear in travelling men and drive them to madness, others say they can guide you to safety. Never encountered one myself either.”

You turned your head around to glance at him. His story was strangely similar to yours, just adapted to his own beliefs. How could two very different people share something so unique as your love for mythical creatures?

“They sound beautiful. And before you judge me for saying that… beauty is on the eye of the beholder,” you added with a mellow laugh. You found goats endearing.

Marcus’ serious expression softened. “Evil or not, I do think they are too.”

Your eyes locked for an eternal second and you wondered why there was an unfamiliar feeling sitting low in your belly.

A split second was all it took to make you snap out of whatever brief connection you suddenly felt.

You heard the whistling sound before you saw the arrow sticking out of Marcus’ left shoulder, in that unprotected spot where the shoulder pad met the breastplate. The arrow had flown just a few inches away from your ear.

Marcus’ eyes widened as reality settled in. Out of nowhere, three men emerged from the woods, face painted with soot—the whites of their eyes sparkled under the full moon.

The sudden movement scared off Kelpie, who harshly stirred around and started galloping towards the trees with no regard for her rider—you. You managed to hold on to the low branches of the trees, Kelpie slipping from between your thighs as the mare ran towards safety alone, leaving you hanging from a branch.

The clink of metal behind you forced you to let go of the branch, landing on your feet like a graceful cat. When you turned around, you saw that Marcus had dismounted Faun. His stud, at least, had not abandoned his rider to the mercy of his enemies the same way your mare had. Little traitorous horse.

“Get back!” Marcus shouted at you as he repositioned his body between you and the threat of the threesome.

But they were no threat to you, you were sure. They were here to kill him. The same way some fucking kids had tried to end him that very afternoon. Were people plain, thick gòrach (stupid)?

“People are growing restless,” Torcall had said to you yesterday. So much so they would endanger you too? Your cover? What were you supposed to do now?

If you helped them and Marcus survived, you would be dead before dawn, your cover blown.

If you helped them and Marcus died, Agricola would appoint a new man in Marcus’ stead. One that might not fit well into your plan. And you would be hunted down too.

If you helped him and they survived, they would go back to your folk and tell them all how you betrayed them, how you turned against them — how you protected the General.

If you helped him and they died… Your conscience would be tainted forever.

Or you could do nothing — let destiny run its course. The General deserved to die for what he had done to your family; it was actually only fair. But Marcus needed to be killed off at the right time — not sooner nor later. Just right, as a pig hung for slaughter on the first days of winter.

As the Romans would say, Alea iacta est (the dice is cast).

“Caileag fealltach (traitorous lass)!” One of the men screeched before leaping on you, sgian-dubh (small knife) on his left and a longer sword on his right hand.

The raucous sound of steel colliding sparked life back into you. Marcus’ gladius had curbed the attack. And with a thundering flourish of his sword, the edge of it hit the man’s side with deadly precision. The attacker crumbled to his knees, a fountain of blood varnishing the grass underneath.

“Mac na galla (son of a bitch), I’ll have your head for this!” The taller man cowed in Gàidhlig.

Marcus’ hand pushed you back — unbeknownst to you, you had taken a few steps forward, wanting to say something, anything to stop this madness.

Marcus and his opponent exchanged a few strident blows. Despite the General being substantially older than his adversary, his movements were more gracious, trained, measured, while the other man’s were sloppy and directionless. It was only a matter of minutes until one of them tired out, and your bet, regrettably, was on your clansman.

“What is a lass like you doing with a man like him? Are you his whore or what? Have you no shame, woman?” The recriminatory voice of the last man came to you in your mother tongue, albeit a slightly different accent.

He had swerved towards you while Marcus was distracted with the other man, too focused on the dance of swords. You were unarmed, this fight you would not win.

Your kinsman’s sword swayed in front of you, and you managed to jump back, avoiding the blade by a mere inch. Your eyes shot back to his, back slightly crouched, trying to predict his next movement.

A malicious smirk appeared on your opponent’s lips, as if he was enjoying himself.

“I’m going to send you to fucking Dubnos (Hell), so you can rot there with the low-lives you get involved with,” the threat was not veiled.

He lunged forward and you dropped to the floor — eyeing the dead man’s blood-soaked sgian-dubh, you grabbed it and held it close to your chest.

“I don’t think so. I don’t want to kill you, please,” you almost begged him between gritted teeth as you dragged yourself back a few feet, slowly getting up as Marcus’ fight unfolded fifteen yards away from where you stood.

A brief glance in his direction told you he was holding up alright, just as you knew he would. You had seen him in a sword fight before — your father had died because of it. Because of him.

“Kill me? You?” he laughed out loud. “You’re just a sad, little, useless woman. What do you think you can do to me? Bet the closest you have ever been to a knife is in a kitchen, where you fucking belong. There and warming up some man’s bed, but not his,” he barked back, almost looming over you.

What he just said struck you as odd. Did this man not know how many battles you had fought besides your father, your entire family, to protect your land, your clan?

You could not recognise him under all the soot, his hair tied back and covered in mud in a pretty good attempt at concealing his identity.

Before you could question him, he lunged forwards.

“Callie, no!” You heard Marcus’ call, a note of fear sullying his words.

An acute relief washed over him when the man in front of you fell to his knees, laying at your feet. A big, burgundy stain tarnished your blue dress around your belly area. A bloody knife was firm on your steady hand, your eyes devoid of emotion — had you done this before? Impossible, he thought to himself, she’s just a maid.

The relief just grew in his tight chest when your eyes locked with his. But what he saw in them caught him off guard — fear?

“Marcus!”

Then he felt it. The ripping of skin, the sinking of metal through flesh, then a few twists of the knife rearranging his guts for good measure — then warmth. Sticky, wet warmth soaking the woollen tunic underneath his armour.

“Die, bastard,” his attacker whispered in his ear, the words strangely clear to him.

Marcus’ eyes quickly drifted down to see one of those small knives the barbarians used, sunken down to its hilt on the left-hand side of his lower abdomen, right under his lorica. He didn’t feel the pain, not just yet — just rage.

He had disarmed his rival but blundered. He shouldn’t have, but the moment he realised you were no longer behind him, he frantically searched his surroundings to find you quite a few feet away from him, from his protection. He thought you dead when he saw you so close to that man, almost entrapped in an intimate embrace. Turned out, you could protect yourself alright.

His left fingers followed the red river dripping onto the ground, almost mesmerised by the sight of his own thick blood.

Snapping out of his trance and with shock still holding him upright, he effortlessly swung his sword — the other man eyeing him with fright, realising those were his last seconds on this worldly plane.

The head of the last man standing rolled off his shoulders and hit the ground with a sharp thud.

“No, Marcus, no! Don’t pull it out,” you whispered into his neck, your fingers wrapping around his on the hilt of the knife.

When did you bridge the distance? How were you so close? He hadn’t heard you. At all.

His mind went numb as more blood poured from his body, his speech slurred as his grasp on consciousness became looser by the minute.

“I need to—,” he mumbled, brows frowned and fingers tighter.

“No, you’ll bleed out. Please, listen to me. If you want to live, don’t fucking touch it,” your sweary prayer finally reached him, and he loosened up the grip on the knife. “Shite. Faun! Fucking shite, Faun! Come, boy, come!” He barely saw you waving down his horse — his sight going too.

Marcus fought to stay afloat, but the waves were relentless, bigger than him, pushing him down to the seabed. He was drowning.

“Can you— Fuck, Marcus, can you jump?”

He looked at you confused, then in front of him. Faun was standing right there, waiting for him to hop onto his back. His hand held on to the saddle but couldn’t bring himself up.

“Ad genua (to your knees), Faun,” he muttered in Latin, and the stallion knelt almost instantly.

“Thank the fucking gods he’s trained be…” Marcus didn’t hear the last of your sentence as he plummeted on top of Faun, the knife and arrow sinking further in his flesh.

If it wasn’t for his impending death, you would have been relieved when Marcus fainted.

“…trained better than my mother’s mare,” was how you ended your sentence. One that would have fucked your whole plan up. And your life too.

“Fuck, this is bad. Really bad,” you muttered to yourself frantically as you sat down on the saddle.

You pushed Marcus’ body up, making him sit upright facing you with his heavy, manly thighs over yours — your knees pressing hard around Faun’s back to keep your balance as the stud stood up. You cradled Marcus’ cheeks and lightly patted him.

“Marcus. Hey, wake up,” you whispered, uprooting no reaction from him whatsoever. “Fuck, I said wake up!” You slapped him harder this time, the sound ricocheting on the trees and the palm of your hand itchy — it shouldn’t given the circumstances, but smacking him felt damn good.

The General groaned but didn’t open his eyes. With your right forearm pressed against his chest, your fingers wrapped around the arrow on his left shoulder. With as much care as you could and trying not to wiggle the arrow, you snapped the shaft at the hafting with the help of your left hand.

Marcus did not complain, so he had to be really out of it right now. You let him lean forward with his sweaty forehead lodged in the crook of your neck — way too close for comfort. You detested his proximity, but your body had a mind of its own. His warm breath fanning your skin made your hair stand.

Not the fucking time.

“Focus, dammit,” you summoned all your strength.

You were closer to Naimh’s crannog than to the Inbhir Nis’ fortress. You did not know what other threats lied ahead and Marcus was in dire need of help — you could feel his blood dripping onto the saddle, staining Faun’s white coat. Naimh would have everything you required to patch him up and her hut was well hidden.

You looked in both directions, Faun patiently awaiting your command. You veered the reins to the left.

“Hyah, hyah!” You compelled the stallion with a subtle kick of your heels.

Faun darted forward, fast as a wildcat, and you wrapped your arm around Marcus’ waist to prevent him from falling sideways to the ground.

It only took you ten minutes to get to Naimh’s again. You reined Faun back and he came to a sudden stop just a couple of feet away from the door.

“Ad genua,” you said to the horse, remembering the General’s command, and Faun knelt.

By that point, Marcus’ mind was very far away. You threaded your arms under his and  dragged him all to the crannog. There was a red trickle all the way from the saddle to where you were now.

“Fuck,” with the heel of your foot, you kicked Naimh’s door. “Naimh, it’s me, open up!”

You heard the rustling of her feet as she sauntered towards the door, swinging it open. With your back towards her, you could not see her expression, but you bet on shock.

“Obh obh (oh dear), what’s happened? Are you hurt?” You could tell Naimh was extremely worried.

“I’m fine. Him… well, not so much. We’ve been attacked. I don’t know who sent those men, but they were out for blood,” you explained as you hauled him back inside.

Thank the gods you were strong enough to grab him by his shoulders and lay him down on Naimh’s bed.

“Did you recognise them?” She asked while searching for her healing kit — a basket with a sharp, small knife, some eyed needles made of bone, wool thread and a few different species of fresh plants and herbs.

“No, I didn’t. They covered their faces in soot and their hair with mud, I could barely tell they were human,” you omitted the fact that you had to stab one of them to death to keep your cover intact and also to save yourself. Naimh was a healer, she would not understand having to take someone else’s life voluntarily.

You, on the other hand, were used to it.

Your hands worked faster than your brain — you grabbed the knife and cut Marcus’ tunic, from the edge of the skirt to his hip, so you would have better access to the wound on his lower abdomen. That was the one which was profusely bleeding, while the arrowhead seemed to block the wound enough so it wouldn’t bleed too.

You focused your eyes on the wound and not on his almost-exposed lap. You had a job to do if you wanted him to survive this. Not wanted really, you needed him to survive for now, so he could die at the right time.

You pressed the injury with your left hand, the protruding blade lodged between your middle and index fingers, and then pulled curtly from the hilt of the sgian-dubh.

Marcus’ eyes flew wide open, a restrained groan ripping his throat. His hand tightly wrapped around your wrist, his arched back slightly off the straw cushion. His orbs were wild with pain — the veins on his neck chiselled on his skin, so pronounced you thought they would explode. You kept the pressure on the wound while pushing him back down onto the bed.

“It’s okay. Relax, I’ve got you,” you tried to calm him down. His big, brown eyes studied you, considering if he should trust you with his life. His fingers were so solidly wrapped around your wrist, you were sure he was restricting your bloodflow. “You have no other option. It’s me or whatever god of the dead you praise,” you muttered, holding his gaze.

With a painful grunt, he let go of your wrist and settled back down. His jaw was so clenched, you were almost worried he would break a tooth.

“Naimh, bring me a stick of wood or something for him to chew on while I stitch him up. And some wine,” you asked of the old woman.

Soon enough you had everything you needed. You offered the woodstick to Marcus, who quickly understood what it was for and opened his mouth. You placed it between his teeth and he bit down on it.

You quickly removed the heel of your hand from the seeping gash and poured wine over it to disinfect it. Marcus hissed in pain, muffled by the stick he was chewing. You patted the area with a rag to clean it and then extended your hand towards Naimh, palm up. She had already threaded the eyed needle.

“This is going to hurt,” you warned him before piercing the first layer of skin.

You focused on the task at hand, blocking out any distractions. The needle was not the sharpest, so you had to really puncture the skin to get it through to the other side — you were sure that Marcus hated every bone of yours every time the blunt tip of the needle stroked his skin.

The wound was very deep, probably too deep for sutures, but you had no other alternative. His attacker had really intended on gutting him like a cow — the skin was ripped around the edges, as if the man had twisted the blade several times once it had already sunk in Marcus’ flesh.

By the time you were done, it still looked gnarly, but at least it wasn’t bleeding so much now. You had been so absorbed in your doing, you had not realised that Marcus had fainted again — probably a combination of blood loss and pain had sent him straight to Aengus’ embrace, God of Dreams.

You knew he was completely unconscious when you pulled the arrow out of his shoulder and followed the same procedure with not a single complaint from him. The starred scar would heal better than the butchering on his tummy. You were no expert, but at least you gave him a fighting chance.

“Naimh, could you prepare one of your concoctions, please? We need to cover the wounds and aid the healing process. Otherwise it’s going to become infected,” you asked while packing away the stuff you had used off her basket.

You saw her shuffling some shelves in search of specific ingredients and let her do her job. After putting away the basket, you walked back to the bed Marcus was splayed on.

What a fucking sight.

The lorica still covered his torso, but you had removed the shoulder plates to have better access to the arrow. The tunic underneath the cuirass that hung from his waist down was ripped apart — you had to so you could patch him up. Just a few inches away, you knew, was the core of his manhood.

You wondered… Better not to dwell there for long.

Then there were his hairy, thick thighs, and a pair of leather sandals plaited around his muscular calves. The man’s anatomy spoke of power, vigour, strength.

Most of his visible skin, along with the tunic and armour, was stained in dry, scarlet blood. The picture in front of you, although suggestive, was gruesome, bordering on sadistic. So, you definitely should not feel the way you did — curious, too curious.

“Here,” Naimh’s offering brought you back. “Apply this to the wounds, should keep any festering at bay.”

“Tapadh leibh a Naimh (thank you),” you thanked her, taking the mortar from her hands.

The mixture looked gooey and greenish — pretty regular, considering there was a ton of aloe vera in it.

“Do you want me to send word to the castle, mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)?”, she offered, placing a little, fragile hand on your shoulder.

“Aye, if you don’t mind,” a brief pause to jog your memory. “Make sure it reaches Maximus, and Maximus only,” you added.

That commander seemed to be the closest thing to a friend Marcus had here. You had seen them on the dais, exchanging whispers and jests in a brotherly manner. Surely he would be someone Marcus would trust with his life.

“Na gabh dragh, measag (don’t worry, dear). You know my will-o'-wisps only reach those who I command them to,” her voice lowered, a sweet grin painted on her wrinkling face before vanishing through the door.

You knew Naimh came from a long bloodline of druids and sorceresses — she could be found attending to the coirtheachan (standing stones), ensuring they were clean with oblations left at their feet, speaking to animals and trees, or lighting fires with the mere snap of her fingers. Once, as a child, you saw how a wave of her hand over the flames made some sparks flicker away from the bonfire and dance through the air until they disappeared between some trees. The first wisps you had ever seen.

So when Naimh spoke of her will-o’-wisps, you did not question her one bit. You were one hundred percent sure that the message would get to Maximus in record time.

Your attention drifted back to the unconscious man on the bed. You needed to do something about the deplorable state he was in.

His eyelids were so heavy, his mind so foggy, Marcus was not able to open them just yet. Coming back to his senses would take all the strength he had left and that wasn’t much. His limbs felt weighty yet jelly-like too. How damn boorish of him if this was how he greeted death, unable to even shake hands with the Parcae (Fates).

A lifetime of bloodshed and war, and this was how his life would end, away from a real battlefield. What a shame.

His mind kept wandering and almost didn’t register a soft, velvety feeling on his right shin. It was warm and light, and it came and went like a gush of wind. That feeling, that touch, expanded to his thigh, his hip, his tummy, his chest. It was everywhere, right there on the confines on his imagination and on his damn skin.

Weird what the mind would come up with when on its last legs.

Slowly he drifted away again, and when Marcus came back to once more, he wasn’t sure how long it had been. Minutes. Hours. Days?

This time though, his senses flared alive. One more than the others — the sense of touch. The previous warmth, dry before, now was wet. It dripped and dripped, creating a river that ran down his thigh.

The heaviness that had him in a chokehold had softened, and so was able to move one hand, inspecting what that liquid warmth was. Blood?

“Don’t touch,” a firm yet soothing voice warned him.

Something wrapped around his wrist and placed his hand back down on the ground. No, not on the ground… on a bed?

After several attempts, Marcus managed to flutter his eyes open. White vision first, he blinked until the fog dissipated. And then he saw you there, sat by his side — inquiring, green eyes staring him down.

He held your gaze for what seemed like an eternity, while the memories flooded back. The arrow, the attackers, the sword fight, you stabbing that man to his death, the knife deeply lodged in his abdomen. The stitching, the painful stitching.

His eyes drifted down and only then did he realise that he was completely naked. Not even a thin piece of fabric covering him, no — absolutely, fucking nothing. Bare as the day he was fucking born.

Marcus’ eyes quickly shot to yours, his heart pounding wildly, as you held a damp rag on your hand.

“What the—,” he started to complain, his throat dry and coarse.

“No need to panic. I’m just washing the blood off you,” you explained matter-of-factly, unabashed even.

“My armour, my clothes…” was the only thing he managed to mutter.

“Your armour is now clean, and your clothes are drying over there in front of the hearth. I’ve washed them for you. You’re welcome,” you replied sneeringly, rolling your eyes, as you resumed what you were doing prior to being interrupted by his questioning.

You placed the rag back down on his inner thigh and rubbed, the dried blood coming off his skin albeit with some difficulty. Too fucking close to… Fuck, I rather fucking die. He stopped your hand again, teeth gritting.

“I can do this myself,” Marcus protested.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You think I’ve not seen a naked man before? I’m a widow, Marcus. You don’t have anything I have not seen before,” and then you scrubbed his skin some more, moving upwards and stopping just inches shy of his groin.

Marcus held his breath and closed his eyes, summoning all the self-control he could muster. He really had to focus to reign the most primal reaction a man could have when a woman was touching him. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose, jaw clenched, as he started counting backwards from one hundred.

The General needed a distraction — if he thought about your hand so damn close to his cock, he would fucking lose it. Would throw you onto that uncomfortable mattress and would fuck some sense into you for playing with fire. Teach you a lesson or two. Maybe three.

As soon as that thought formed, he had to put it out quickly. One would think that a near-death experience would knock some sense into him, but apparently not. He was a damned man.

Your hand moved around his lap languidly, expertly avoiding his not-so-soft-now dick, and focused on rubbing some blood off his lower abdomen. Then the damp rag moved further south, and his heart climbed up to this throat.

His eyes snapped back open, looking for yours, while his fingers gripped your wrist again.

“Is there no blood anywhere else?” his voice sounded strangled, begging almost, letting go of your hand.

“Nay, I’ve already cleaned the rest of your body. I was saving the best for last, Marcus,” you whispered at the same time the rag dragged along the length of his cock.

Then the palm of your hand flattened against his impending erection, the rag forsaken on his thigh now. The little blood he had left in his veins rushed south the moment your delicate fingers wrapped around the girth of his now-throbbing cock.

You just held him there with a tight grip, eyes never leaving his in defiance. Something sinister flicked in the green of your eyes — something mischievous, lustful even, but something really dark too. Your lips were slightly parted with an intransigent smile.

“How’re you feeling? Any pain?” You dared to ask, as if you weren’t the source of his pain.

Because the only real pain he felt was all gathered on his thudding dick. Feeling his agony, you stroked him once, twice… until you were pumping him decisively, shamelessly. Your thumb caressed his glans, buttering it with his own precum.

A moan tore through Marcus’ chest, rumbling — eyes closed, letting himself rejoice in the moment. Your fingers tight around his thick shaft, putting the right amount of pressure, sent him into oblivion. His erection just became harder and harder, steely as his gladius, under your diligent care.

Marcus felt the tension building up, his balls contracting with equal parts of pain and pleasure. His erection beat rhythmically with his heart — your strokes a blessing in disguise, sent to him to release the pressure building up at the bottom of his spine. You were working him so well, so dextrously, so deliciously, he didn’t know how much longer would he last.

“I wonder if it is as tasty as it looks…” you whispered in his ear as you crouched down a little, your lips grazing his skin.

The mere image of your mouth sealed around his manhood wrecked him. So fucking much, he was close to coming just with one single fucking handjob.

And then the door swung open, making both of you jump on the spot. You quickly removed your hand from his lap and Marcus almost died at the realisation that he would not find relief tonight.

As you turned around on your seat to face the door, you threw a blanket over his lap to disguise what had really been happening.

“Naimh is back,” you exclaimed giddily to him, standing up to greet her in your language.

Fuck Naimh. Kick her out, come back.

@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey

@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87 @mewantpeepaw

@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel @pepperstories

[koolades-world]

got a request via comment for a part two with the undatables for this mangled wings prompt! been working at trying to incorporate raph into my works so this will be my first post with him in it! part one can be found here

if you haven't done lesson 76-19 (yes i did have to look up the exact lesson haha) there are spoilers below for simeon

enjoy!

Mc with mangled wings p.2

Diavolo

he's always been very empathetic, and he immediately tries to help you in any way he can

he offers you all the moral and emotional support he can offer

he also tries to help you work through it and may know the right people to help you restore what you once had

whatever you need, he will help you as best as he can

Barbatos

when he learns, you're not so sure about how he feels since his expression remains exactly the same

but inside, he's filled with a seething rage that he rarely feels and is something only few can recognize

suddenly, all those that hurt you are begging for forgiveness

when you ask him, he says nothing and offers you a tea party with all your favorite things at it

Simeon

he's very open about how

however, something he'll never tell you is how afraid he was of suffering a similar fate

he's grateful he didn't fall like the brothers did, but now he's just floating in a weird in between

it's an odd bonding moment between the two of you, being outcasted, but part of him feels like you could connect more with the brothers than him

Luke

he's so horrified that people that you once trusted could do that to you

he hugged you and almost started crying while apologizing

after he learns what happened to you, you suddenly find a lot more specialty treats left on your bed that are always right up your alley

while he thinks it might bother you to bring it up directly, he's always asking how you are and how you're feeling

Solomon

he's seen a lot during his lifetime, so while this doesn't phase him too much, that doesn't take away how upset it makes him

he hates seeing you in pain, and as a human, he's known a lot of that

even though you're not, he feels as if the two of you can bond over understanding each other when nobody else does

he hasn't suggested it to you yet, but he's been trying to create something that may help you to restore what you once lost...

Mephisto

you've never seen him act more sympathetic

his facade drops and you can see how much he actually cares about you

with his heart on his sleeve, he shares everything

he lets you know you're welcome in his arms anytime if you need anything, and while he won't admit he had the conversation with you, his actions change

Thirteen

at first she's outraged, but eventually calms down once she sees that you're not as upset

don't give her any names or she might accidently knock over their candle while working

when it comes to be their time naturally! she emphasis naturally, you can come help if you want

reaping is something she does respectfully and this is no exception, but she'd do anything for you

Raphael

he's very serious as usual when he offers to hunt down who did that to you

he wants to seek vengeance on your behalf

even if you tell him not to, part of him will always be thinking about doing it anyways and is always listening for details about them

from then on, anything you ask for, he's getting it done 100% if not already