#apparently teaching my family the 'proper' way to speak

[lucadrawss]

During covid times (after lockdown) me and my brother were walking home from school (because at the time we attended the same school) and came across an older man looking for directions.

Knowing the area extremely well because we grew up in it we happily helped him.

Then the following conversation happened:

Man: "So are you enjoying your exchange programme? How are you finding this country?"

Me: "Excuse me?"

Man, being extremely polite: "I asked how your exchange programme is going."

Brother: "We're not exchange students."

Me: "We were born and raised here sir, specifically in this area, were not exchange students."

Man: "Oh I'm so sorry, you both have american accents."

So apparently me and my brother, two british people who were born and raised in britain, have an american accent. Turns out that even a friend I had that had moved from america (I don't remember exactly where from) thought I was american too. They never say exactly where though, its always just america.

Years later I got asked if I was Italian or had an Italian family because my chosen name is Luca, then when I said no I got asked if I was american again.

I really don't hear it in my voice, but thats probably just me.

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

Tomorrow morning, if God wills, you will wake once again.

Characters: Selena, Blinky, Otis, Baby

Words: 1463

Content warnings: Racism, really racist and outdated talk about people of colour, Christianity, negative stereotypes against people with albinism

divider by friefly-graphics

The door flew open and the white-haired man entered, eyes seemingly burning with anger. “So, are you a racist bitch like your ‘Sisters’ as well?” 

“Race- racist?”, I repeated unsure. “What... what does that mean?” 

An expression of disbelief replaced the obvious anger, but it was still there, I could basically feel it in the air. “You sayin’ you don’t know what racism is?” 

I squirmed in my seat, feeling both embarrassed and scared. “I- I’m not sure? It has to do with race?” 

“Listen here, missy-”, he snapped, taking a step towards me, and I instinctively lowered my head, trying to curl in on myself as much as the ropes would allow me to. 

“Otis, wait!”, the woman who’d introduced herself as “Baby” called and grabbed his arm. 

“What?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Just gimme a second.” 

Then, she turned to me. “So, what do ya know about race?” 

“I... the Sisters said that there are different human races, separated by appearance, intelligence, and how civilised they are. Like, white people are superior to black people because they were found living in the wilderness in Africa, not wearing any clothes, no proper homes, barely capable of language, so the white people gave them work and taught them how to be more civilised. But that there still are differences like the skull being shaped differently, affecting the brain size, so that no amount of teaching could ever bring them to the same level of intelligence that white people have. And that they still need guidance because if left to their own devices, they’d regress to their savage animal-like behaviour.”, I repeated what I’d learned at the convent. Judging from the man’s expression, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t react aside from clenching and unclenching his fists. 

The woman looked at me intently, almost like she was trying to figure out some puzzle. It made me slightly uncomfortable; I what she was looking for, and if she’d like what she found. “And what do you think?” 

“...me?”, I said, staring at her in confusion.  

“Yeah. You were just talking to Blinky, right? What do you think of them?” 

I wanted to say that I didn’t think of them any less than of other people I’d met, that I didn’t believe judging people depending on looks or the colour of their skin was right – but then there were my own looks, my own skin. My curse. It had brought us into this situation, brought misfortune onto me and the Sisters. So, there had to be some truth to their teachings, right?  

“I... don’t know?”, I admitted truthfully. 

This answer was apparently wrong, cause the man came over, almost shoving Baby out of the way, and roughly grabbed my jaw. “The fuck do ya mean ‘you don’t know’? You believe all that bullshit, just say so, but don’t play dumb.” 

I winced and fought the urge to close my eyes. That had never served me well in the past. 

“I’m not. I just. I don’t know. I don’t-”, my voice broke and I took a shaky breath. “The sister said that white people are superior and black people like animals. But then, Mary-Anne's friend seemed just like everyone else and not stupid or savage at all-” 

“God-fucking-dammit!”, he yelled, pushing himself off the chair, and I flinched. “Have you ever had on original thought in your life or are you only ever parroting whatever others tell you? No one ever ask you for your opinion before or what?” 

“I... no. No one’s ever cared for my opinion. I was not to have one”, I muttered, eyes fixed onto the floor so they wouldn’t see the tears welling up. 

I could feel them staring at me. After a moment, the man spoke again. “...What?” 

“My family always told me that I am not to speak unless spoken to, which hardly ever happened. At the convent I was to strictly adhere to the bible and not to trust my own thoughts for the devil will use them to lie and manipulate me, trying to use me as a tool to lead others into temptation. My words are not to be trusted unless I am quoting the bible or speaking prayer for there is no guarantee that they actually are my words. I am cursed, wicked, corrupted. Damned from birth. There is no salvation.”, I managed to choke out, trying – and failing – to cover the roughness of my voice with a cough. 

The man chuckled. “Yeah, right. What is all that religious bullshit about anyway? All that talk about curses and demons, those nuns wouldn’t shut up about it. What makes you so ‘wicked’?” 

Finally, I felt tears starting to spill, a sob threatening to escape my throat. Yet, I calmed my voice and repeated the lines that had been drilled into me since childhood: “These are the words of most esteemed Reverend Lael: ‘This is how you shall recognise the one’s touched by evil, those who’s souls are forfeit and who will try to corrupt you too: Their skin will be pale, translucent, like the skin of the dead or diseased. They will avoid the day because the sun – the Lord’s holy light – burns their skin and blinds their eyes. Their irises will vary in shade, from reddish like the Devil himself had touched them over light pink or purple hues, to pale grey and blues, looking more dead than alive. Some will appear with common eyes – in this way, they can be deceiving. Still, if you look closely, you will find the spark of life, the warmth of a soul, missing. And be particularly cautious of the really dark eyed ones, those whose irises can’t be told from the pupil, resembling bottomless holes as empty and void of love as their hearts. The Lord created man in his image, so deviance from ordinary man is an implication of wickedness. Do not fall for a baby’s seemingly innocent smile or desperate wails, a child’s sweet voice apologising, promising, begging – you must remain resolute and strong. They may not realise the evil inside of them, but we cannot let their obliviousness poison this community.’” 

The man and the woman just stared at me in silence, and it was only now that I saw the small one, Blinky, peeking around the doorframe. Baby shook her head and exchanged a look with the man. 

“And you believe that shit?” 

“It’s the only thing I know.”, I responded, almost inaudible. “While my brothers and sisters were read stories, I was taught Reverend Lael’s words. I had to stand facing the wall, someone would come in and recite the words once, then I was to repeat them. Every mistake earned me a strike with the belt. Sometimes, they made me kneel and pray for forgiveness afterward.” 

Blinky stepped into the room, even though Otis tried to step them. “Why would they make you face the wall?” 

“To protect themselves from the evil eye.”, I said matter-of-factly. “So, I wouldn’t curse them with my gaze.” 

They furrowed their brows in confusion. “But those women that were with you didn’t seem worried about it.” 

“Children have less control over these things.”, I explained. “And I have gone through many spiritual cleansings, prayed for forgiveness and salvation, recited bible verses and whole passages for hours on end. Also, the Sisters faith is stronger than regular peoples’ faith, and they are protected by God even more than others. It’s why I was sent to the convent in the first place, to keep the people around me safe.” 

Otis huffed. “And what did they do before that, lock you up in a room out of everyone’s sight?” 

“Yes.” 

Again, everyone just stared at me in silence and I wondered if I had said something wrong. 

Blinky was the one to break the silence. “But how did you go to school then?” 

“I didn’t.”, I said with a sad smile. “Some of my older siblings taught me to read and write in secret. Then, some of the others at the convent helped me with basic maths. Still... I am not very good. Most would consider me stupid I suppose.” 

I felt someone’s eyes on me and looked over to see Baby watch me, a thoughtful expression on her face. She exchanged a look with Blinky before both of them turned to Otis. Some kind of exchange seemed to take place between them, even though I didn’t understand. It ended with Otis scoffing and shaking his head. 

“Fuck this, I’m out.”, he said, throwing his arms up in defeat. “Do what you want, but she’s your responsibility now. Don’t come running to me when something goes wrong.” 

With that, he left the room and slammed the door close behind him.

@myers-meadow @immortal-velociraptor IT IS DONE. FINALLY.

[paintinthesims]

Catching up with the Darke family

So... about where I left off, the Darkes had a new addition to the family. They originally wanted a boy, but somehow ended up with a girl instead. Still, she was welcomed with open arms. Ayesha actually went into labor while she was in the hot tub, and ended up giving birth in her swimwear. They named their new daughter Sephora.

Several days later, Ayesha got pregnant again way sooner than they had planned, but they kept the baby anyways. He ended up being born in the new underground garden, so he was named Garth. He has the 'Eccentric' trait, so he'll most likely become an inventor when he gets older. I wonder what he'll create...?

Also, here's the garden I was talking about. Sunlight is pretty bad for my vampires, so I thought I'd move all the plasma fruit bushes underground. In a house that's mostly black and red, I think the bit of green is a really nice touch. 😊 The windows came from 'Roaring Twenties' btw.

My sims also adopted a puppy a while ago, and yesterday she finally grew to be an adult! Her name is Pennie, but I've been thinking of naming her something else. She has the independent trait, so she doesn't need much attention.

Sephora had her birthday only a few days after pennie grew up, and became a toddler. Going by her features, she seems to have inherited a lot from Damien, but she also has blonde hair, which is... interesting, considering both her parents have dark hair. I've heard that mutations can happen in this game, so that's most likely what happened.

The only photo I took from her birthday party is of Yumi Sekemoto going proper mental. I think she was simultaneously being freaked out by Damien (being the Emperor of Evil) and Bonehilda (a monster). I think she spent the whole party running around in terror but apparently she had a good time?

And then this guy showed up... Grandpa Gnome protests.

Apparently Gnomes also don't have a concept of privacy... I think he may have actually teleported in while Damien was in the bath.

Speaking of Damien, he really seems to enjoy caring for his kids. I've actually gone out of my way to have him teach Sephora how to walk and talk since he seems to be a lot more efficient at it.

And now... onto the reason why I decided to retire Bonehilda for a while. She just stands over the kids while they're trying to sleep and stares at them, which gets kinda annoying when the parents are trying to give them care. But... the last straw was when she would NOT STOP trying to teach Pennie tricks. I mean... her knowing how to sit and roll over is nice and all, but it was getting to the point where all her motives were getting low because Bonehilda just wouldn't let her rest.

And... that about wraps up my update.

[cutepastelstarsalior]

Alter/voices in my head info

Vanya/white violin comic version

LOVE slipnot and korn

He/she lesbian

Miss klaus/ 4/Séance, consider them twins

Has telekinesis and use her powers to float or to make instruments play. Eyes turn pure white when powers are use

Gets extremely hyper and aggressive when listening to loud music

Use her powers to imagine killing people

Love to sing and use her telekinesis to play a one man song

Early 20s

Punk/caual aesthetic (camo cargo pants and white tang top)

“Front”/appears when hearing Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit

Calls jester/ruin a “clown fucker”

Has sharp teeth, and bite people

Tries to get me to rage, to express myself, to be loud and angry In a positive/justifiable way. Thinks to be strong is to fight back. Also tries to teach me to dance inside the head

Her domain is an old rundown theater that has graffiti surrounding it. In the center wall of the stage is an orange scenery of a tree and field in the sunset.

Apparently brought V/virgil out of hiding just by screaming the lyrics of not a vampire and also I’m not ok while going down the (inner) hallway where the less active voices live.

The one one that I can visualize the best out of

Luciano/Luci

A weird mix of an Italian mafia and an American cowboy??????

Bisexual he/him

Fat and had a red scrufffy beard, a cowboy hat, and a red plaid shirt, tan and has freckles.

Bluish-green eyes.

Calls Elizabeth “miss Elizabeth” or “miss Lizzy”

Tries to get me motivated and to take care of my body? Was weirdly base off those “alpha grind workouts motivation” videos.

Himbo golden retriever boy

Unknown age

Calls my dad “pa/pop” and my mom “ma”

The only one with an accent/can clearly hear his voice better then the others

Elizabeth

The inner caregiver

Long light brown hair, thin, green eyes and a green bow.

Call me and other honey or sweetheart

Bee and I’s mama

Likes to pick on Caleb sometimes

Unknown age

Smells like honey or tea

Likes to hum and sing

Soft and kind.

I think one of the early voices I heard? Or one that I remember hearing from my teenage years.

Caleb

Time management/helper

Talks and appears to me a lot :)

calls me “little one” sometimes

A very nice dad/big brother figure

Like coffe and read and just want to spend the day reading and relaxing by a fire with a hot drink

Has black short hair, orange eyes, sometimes black reading glasses, recently gain pale white and purple wings

Wear an overcoat and business casual.

Gets annoyed /stressed out a lot by the others.

Hates jester/ruin

Hated my dad call him “father”

Use proper tiles for family (grandmother instead of Grammy)

Bee

A kid

Age ranges from toddler to 10 year old

Blue hair and eyes

Like bears

Likes candy and sweet food

Call’s Elizabeth “mama” and Caleb “papa”

Doesn’t come out that much, but like to play and to watch cartoons

A sweet boy

Hard to tell if it’s me age regression or when is bee is taking

Jester/ruin

Calls me “starlight”

The one that came up with the rules “spin around when you’re in trouble. 2 and 4 are safe numbers”

Base of TSAMS eclipse

Is here to help find his and mine purpose in life.

Get angry/irritated when I DONT fallow the rules

Didn’t like vanya or Caleb

Theme song is under my skin by jukebox the ghost

Sometimes when he speak it sounds like him, sometimes it warps. Most active when I need to “not be contaminated”

Others voices (only made 1-2 appearances)

jack o moon (tsams)

Bloodmoon (tsams)

Killcode/casey (tsams)

Angel (a form of black tar and multiple eyes)

V/virgil (sanders sides)

A god name Leo

Aroua (davesprit + ardia person who is a follower of Leo)

[razieltwelve]

The Doctor (Final Rose x House of the Dragon)

Viserys stared at his wife and then at the baby boy in a crib nearby.

They were alive.

Against all hope and reason, they were alive.

A snarl crossed his lips.

No thanks to the damn Maesters. If the maester had his way, his wife would have been cut open and left to die, all for the minuscule hope of allowing his son to live. The thought of it...

No.

He shook his head. He would think no more of it. That grim fate had not come to pass, and he had been assured that provided his wife and son were cared for in the proper manner, it would never come to pass.

He smiled faintly.

And to think it was all thanks to a strange woman that his brother had hired some years ago to aid his wife through a difficult pregnancy that had ultimately resulted in his brother’s twins, Aegon and Daenys. There was no great love between Daemon and Rhea, but there was no doubting how much Daemon loved his two children.

Apparently, he had stumbled across the woman during his travels in Essos. She had been making a living as a ‘doctor’, a strange sort of maester who specialised in healing. His brother had been troubled by visions of a difficult birth for his wife and had hired her at great expense after hearing of her skill from the magisters and other wealthy folk.

Daemon’s gamble had paid off. Rhea’s labour had been difficult. She should have died, but she had lived, and so had the children. Daemon had lavished praise and honours upon this doctor and had suggested that Viserys take her into his service for Aemma’s pregnancy.

The maesters had been incensed, of course, but Viserys had taken a chance. Aemma had suffered so greatly in her earlier pregnancies. If there was a chance, any at all, that he could ease her burden, then he would take it. The doctor had arrived shortly after and had immediately explained what she had planned and why.

It was those explanations that had won him over. Rather than obfuscating or trying to confuse him, she had explained in clear terms why certain actions were necessary and what dangers they had to be wary of. The birth itself had been... terrifying.

Things had gone wrong almost at once, but the doctor had handled each challenge with aplomb. When the maesters had intervened, Viserys had personally thrown them out himself and ordered the Kingsguard to admit no others, save for the doctor’s apprentices into the birthing room.

And now his wife was alive, as was his son, and although he had been told that they would take some time to regain their full strength, they would one day be in fine health. It was almost more than he could imagine. The only question now was what to do with the doctor.

She was technically a member of Daemon’s household, but her expertise in healing could not be overlooked. Apart from his wife, she and her apprentices had ably dealt with all manner of ills throughout the city. She had even cured him an illness that he now knew to be one of the dread flesh-destroying sicknesses.

He would have to speak to his brother. Such expertise could not be lost. Perhaps they could offer her a position as head of a new academy, a place where she could teach her skills to those with the wits to learn them. Yes. A school for doctors, one that was not beholden to the Citadel but to the Targaryens and the royal family.

HIs brother would undoubtedly seek compensation, but he could handle that. A position on the Small Council perhaps? Something could certainly be arranged.

X     X     X

“How is my Baelon?” Aemma asked quietly.

Vanille smiled and continued her examination of the queen. She was woefully weak, but the worst of her ordeal had passed. It was now a matter of making sure she didn’t regress and was given time to regain her strength. “He arrived a little earlier than expected, Your Grace, but fear not. He is well, and he will only grow stronger from here.”

“You have my thanks.” Aemma tried to sit up, but Vanille gently eased her down.

“You must rest,” Vanille said. “And regain your strength.”

“I...” Aemma was already having a hard time keeping her eyes open. “I will do as you have said.”

Vanille waited until she was sure the queen was asleep before turning her attention to the improvised crib she’d made. Dying had sucked. Dying and not finding herself in the afterlife with Lumina had been considerably suckier. But dying and finding herself in the middle of a slum on a different world where she didn’t know the language or anything else?

Yeah. That had been the suckiest.

But Vanille was nothing if not a survivor. She had managed to inveigle herself with the locals over in Essos thanks to coin she’d won in games of chance and her skills in medicine, which were in high demand. From there, she’d lucked into meeting Prince Daemon who had paid her extremely handsomely to ensure his children were born safely.

From there, she’d run into his brother, the king.

This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

A stable job with the crown’s backing was exactly what she needed to really step up her projects. The maesters were, for the most part, hardly worthy of the knowledge they professed to have. Replacing them would take time, but she had already taken the first step.

For a king to be behold to such men was dangerous. From Viserys’s point of view, she would be a better choice, a person loyal to him and his family and reliant on them for success. She would, of course, branch out beyond medicine. It would make both she and her patrons exceedingly wealthy.

And with wealth came resources, resources she would need to continue to not only survive but thrive. There was so much misery in this world she’d arrived in. If she could profit and deal with it at the same time, then so much the better.

“My lady.” It was one of her apprentice, a stalwart fellow from Essos whose freedom she had purchased at no small expense. “The king wishes to speak with you.”

“I see.” She nodded. “Keep a close watch on the queen and the child. Send for me if anything should go awry.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Vanille has arrived.

Stuff will change.

Dragons will be studied.

Lucky will go her way.

Also... imagine Vanille being a tutor to a bunch of Targaryen kids. They might actually end up okay for once.

[mackeydoodledoo]

The Demon Amongst Vampires

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x Demon (Fem!)Reader

Summary: Getting caught on the grounds of Castle Dimitrescu is one problem. Being a Demon hybrid is another. Getting caught WHILST being in your demon form is a whole issue. As you’re held captive in the castle, a Dimitrescu daughter has been enchanted by you.

Warnings: Blood, Slight G0R3 (Body dismemberment, but, not over-the-top gore), slightly nsfw

A/N: I didn’t understand the hype for Resident Evil 8 and now I understand why. Here is my contribution to you fellow simps. Also, since R is a demon, I’ve referenced some demon-anime characters. Bonus points if you get those references! R is My Character: Hydrangea Dragonfold! But her name is not mentioned in this story.

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

As you make your kill, you hear a faint buzzing sound. However, you think nothing of it, you've heard far worse. You recall back before you ran away from your home; the screams of your now dead family. You faintly remember somebody infusing their blood with yours. You don't remember who exactly but now you're a Demon. You don't remember how you got there but you just are. You can't exactly go back to being the person you used to be. 

"Who's out here?!" A demanding voice calls out 

You try your best to hide yourself however, you immediately knock over something with your elbow. 

"Well well, what have we here?" She asks you, immediately teleporting herself over to you 

She uses the end of her sickle to bash on the side of your head. Everything goes black. 

"Mother, look what I found roaming our grounds," a muffled yet familiar voice says 

As you gain your consciousness you look up just as some footsteps turn to face you. You were in awe, you didn't think you'd be in the presence of such a tall woman. 

"What have we here?" The tall woman asks 

Your mind was everywhere, you didn't exactly hear her question. You were still questioning how you got in the castle. 

"Answer mothers' question peasant!" A female voice yells, punching your jaw 

You cough out blood, your jaw seemingly broken. 

“Daniela don’t touch what isn’t yours!” a voice yells

“She wasn’t paying attention!” Another voice screams back

“Now now daughters, let’s all calm down now,” The tall woman says

Once you looked back up at the tall woman, you 'un-broke' your jaw, hearing it crack back into place. 

"No one special that's for sure," you groan 

"Well, anyone who can snap their jaw back into place without writhing in pain must be," the tall woman says, "So, let's see how special you really are." 

Two of the three hooded women begin walking toward you. You however, hold up your hand. 

"I'll do it myself," you sigh 

You hold up your pinky and its nail begins sharpening and turning black. You hold it against your wrist and slash it with no form of wincing in pain. Blood slowly seeps out from your cut as you hold it up to the tall woman. She takes your wrist and begins sucking on your wrist that you had cut. Not even a second in, she throws your wrist back down and gags in disgust. 

"That is VILE!" She screams 

You kind of felt bad for offering such bad blood. But you had no other choice really. 

"Then let's devour this woman's flesh quickly mother," the woman with strawberry-blonde hair suggests 

"But I'm the one who brought her here," the woman with blond hair says, “I should get the first bite!”

"My sincerest apologies," you sigh, letting your cut heal itself, "Being a demon sure has its bad blood taste.. Apparently.." 

"And what of this?" The tall woman gestures to your backpack 

"Nothing special," you say once more, "Just shoes..... A handful of them.... My feet you see.. Let's just say I wear them out a lot faster. Speaking of shoes.... Can I get some out I don't want to leave... A nasty stain on your lovely floors." 

The tall woman snaps her fingers and the blonde woman reaches into your backpack. She pulls out two black sandals. The other two women snicker. 

"Nice to have 'em cheap really," you add as you watch the blonde woman put them on your feet 

"Take this.. Demon, Bela," the tall woman says, "You're in charge of it." 

"I have a name and pronouns you know," you nearly spat, slightly angered

The blond woman flies to you and holds your chin, making you look up at her. 

"You sure have some nerve to be talking to mother like that," she smirks at you 

"Being a demon sure has its perks," you smirk back, "Well, you're in charge Ms. Lady." 

She drags you up from the ground to make you stand up. She grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you out of the tall lady's chamber. 

"So.... What's your plan with me?" You ask, monotonus 

"I'll make you my plaything," she smiles maliciously, "After I'm finished with you, I will eat your flesh." 

You just listen to her ramble on about how she'll kill you, unphased. However she stops when she doesn't hear a reply out of your mouth. 

"How are you not afraid?" She asks 

"I have nowhere else to be, no other family to go home to," you start, “So, what does a demon like myself have left to lose? Besides, you’d be doing me a favor hot stuff.” 

You saw her cheek flush a faint pink color when you realized you called her cute. 

"Also, I wouldn't want you eating demon flesh," you sigh, "You've seen how your.... Mother reacted to my blood. Can't really imagine what my flesh will taste like...." 

"Then why don't I find out?" She asks, menacingly 

You look at her confused however wince in pain when she takes a bite out of your arm. You watch her eat the part of your flesh and blood. However, mid-eating the flesh she tore off you, she stops and opens her eyes. 

"You're.... Divine," she moans, finishing her snack 

You look at her in slight awe, the moonlight complimenting her pale skin. Her eyes dilated from the apparent divine taste of you.

"One, a little warning next time you decide to snack on me,” You groan, watching the indent on your arm heal, “Two, I can regenerate my skin cells a lot faster than the average. But it'll regenerate slower if you continuously eat from the same spot. I can also snap my bones back into place. Hence me being able to snap my jaw back into place when your sister punched the hell out of me." 

The both of you stare at each other before she breaks the eye contact and dragging you to her chambers. 

"You okay with a demon in your room?" You ask, "Aren't you afraid of a sleep paralysis demon?" 

You asked it as a joke, however, Bela turns to you, confused. 

"What's that?" She asks 

"You've-you've never heard of a sleep paralysis demon?" You ask 

She shakes her head. 

"Well," you smirk, "You just might see one." 

Bela giggles, "well aren't you a sharp tongued little demon." 

"I'm not little," you growl 

"Aww the little demon is so cute when she's mad," Bela continues teasing you 

Having enough your instincts take over, a ring of bright blue fire takes over your body, two flame like horns protrude from your head, your pupils turning into vein like slits, your canines sharpening to a point, as do your nails and finally, your tail bone becomes an actual tail. Your nail dug into the other woman's wrists as she gazes up at your new appearance. 

"My my little demon aren't you all riled up," she says seductively 

You say nothing but look at her unamused. However, your grip on her doesn't loosen, trying to intimidate her with your supposedly terrifying secret. However, she moves her leg over you so that she’s straddling you. The grip you had on her subsides and she gives your wrists the same treatment. She leans down close so that one side of her hair drapes over you like a curtain and her lips within touching distance. 

"If you think you can come in here unannounced and nearly top me, you're in for a world of hell," she whispers 

"Well I was brought here against my will," you joke, "But, I don't think that's a bad thing at all." 

You smirk at her. You look at her lips then back up at her eyes. Feeling bold mysteriously, you raise your head up to meet her lips. You pull away the second you snap yourself back to reality. 

"Why did you pull away little demon?" She asks 

At that point you couldn't be mad at her for calling you by your now pet name. You couldn't find the proper answer. 

"I don't know," you half-assed it 

She lifts your arm and licks the blood that remains on your wrists, moaning in pleasure from how your blood tasted. 

"If you ever cross me like that ever again, I'll make sure you're going to pay for it," she whispers 

"Any way you want princess," you smirk

It was a restless night for you, you continuously fought with your demon self from transforming. You managed to persuade the other woman to have you sleep on the floor, out of fear of setting anything on fire. You couldn't stop growling. The tossing and turning wasn't helping either. 

"What's wrong micul meu demon?" The other woman asks, groaning 

"N-nothing I'm fine," you answer all groggy like, "Did-did I wake y-you?" 

"No," she says, "I'll help you. Come into bed demon mic." 

"I'm fine," you growl, almost letting your demon come out 

You feel a swarm of insects roaming around your body until you felt plopped down onto a bed. The other woman snakes her arms around your midsection and you suddenly felt your demon... Rest. That's never happened before.. 

"Better?" She asks 

"Yeah," you confess, settling yourself in, "Thanks..." 

You could feel her breath going right down your neck. You were both nervous and aroused. You turn your body so that you’re facing the other woman.

“Are you aright?” She asks

You nod, letting the feeling of the embrace and you take the opportunity to finally enjoy a nights sleep.

“Good night, micul meu demon,” Bela whispers into your ear

Of all things you’ve experienced in one day, a compassionate vampire lady wasn’t an expectation.

The next several months go by and you're beginning to open up with Bela and everyone else. Everyone has grown fond of you and you teach them about the different kinds of powers you have. You'd often have sparring sessions with Bela in order for her to brush up her skills. Majority of the time its been her catching you. For her “personal reward” she’d take a bite out of your flesh, blood, whatever she wanted to do with you. But today's sparring session, not this time you think to yourself as you navigate through the castle. 

"Nowhere to run demon mea," Bela teases as you navigate through the dungeons 

"Yeah?" You taunt back, "There'll be nowhere to hide once I get you!" 

From the shadows you could hear a swarm of flies form around you. You could feel Bela's presence, she hasn't even touched you and you immediately pin her to the wall, one hand holding her wrists above her head, the other almost clawing her face. 

"I got you little princess," you smirk, "I win." 

You lean in to kiss her fiercely. She returns the kiss as well. You let go of her wrists and coil your arms around her waist, she digs her fingers into your hair as you begin digging your lips into the crook of her neck. You didn't realize how hard you were sucking her skin until you tasted blood. You hear a moan escape out of her mouth as you suckle on her neck. 

"I don't know about me," you say, seductively, "But you are divine." 

Your hand unconsciously explores Bela's slim figure. Your hand travels further and further down before you reached a slit in her dress. Before you could even give her the pleasure you've been dying to give her, she lets out a strangled sigh and slaps your hand away. 

"Ow! Damn Bela," you growl, slightly upset, "What was that for?" 

"You haven't earned that perk yet micul meu demon," she teases, "Maybe tonight my love, during the full moon." 

Out of pure arousal, your demon form pops out, your tail wagging. You try to put them away but to no avail. 

"Micul meu demon," she whispers into your ear 

Blue flames ignite. You force yourself to stop them and control your heartbeat and breathing. 

"She's all riled up," Bela continues teasing 

"You're lucky I have no willpower to destroy you," you growl 

"Maybe you will tonight," she teases again 

You watch her disappear into bugs and fly off.. 

"Bela's really taking a liking to you," Cassandra appears, making you jump, "Oh I made the little demon scared." 

"Don't call me little demon Cass," You sigh, "Only Bela can call me that. By the way, shouldn't you be torturing some new plaything right now?" 

"I'm waiting for mother to bring in a new one," she says 

"Well have fun with that," you sigh, chuckling slightly 

Cassandra flies off to who knows where. Daniela is doing god-knows-what. Lady Dimitrescu is in a meeting with the other three houses, leaving you in your thoughts and awaiting Bela to return. 

An hour goes by and you haven't seen any trace of Bela.. You become slightly upset.. However, you just decide to go back into Bela's chambers until Lady Dimitrescu calls you for dinner or Bela calls for you. However, as you're ascending the staircase, you could hear Bela's voice. You open a window slightly to see her getting knocked to the ground by a mysterious figure you weren't familiar with. 

"Bela!" You call out 

You propel yourself from the open window and concentrate your fire power into your legs to reach Bela faster. 

"STOP!" You scream 

You forward flip and use one foot and attempt to heel the enemy trespasser from injuring Bela further. You missed however, the trespasser launches himself backward as you do the same, guarding Bela. Your demon taking control of you, you growl and snarl. 

"Who. Are. You?" Your demon voice and normal voice ask, combined, "What gives you the right to touch what isn't yours?!" 

"Oh, my mistake," he only says, "You weren’t around so I didn’t think. And a human plaything claiming that she owns a vampire? Don’t joke with me now kid." 

You snarl at the nickname as you were so used to Bela calling you 'My little Demon'. You've warmed up to the nickname and only Bela could call you that. 

"I wouldn’t be joking if I didn’t just launch myself from a castle window.” You say

The both of you charge at each other and engage in a fight. You try to yell back toward Bea to get Alcina or even Cassandra. But, each time you were able to turn around, you couldn’t tell her to get out of harms way. Letting your anger get the best of you, you gain the upper hand however, letting one opening in, the enemy elbows you in the stomach and throws you towards Bela's direction. 

"Micul meu demon! Are you okay?!" She asks, towering over you, trying to check you out for any severe injuries 

You nod, not able to form words from the wind being knocked out of your body. The both of you hear footsteps crunching the snow. Bela becomes her usual terrifying self from when the two of you first met and throws her body over yours, guarding it. 

“You keep away from her!" She growls 

"And what will you do?" He asks, laughing, "Protect this... Human? HAH! Don't make me laugh! This human isn’t special!" 

He kicks Bela in the chin and knocks her away from you. Something in you snapped, what the trespasser did to Bela alone made your blood boil. 

"As for you weak 'human plaything' I'll help myself to dinner and-" 

Before he could step onto your stomach, you catch his boot with your hand, digging your now black nails and singed arms into its soles. He looks down at you, noticing a bright glow emitting from below him. You were engulfed in blue flames. Your nails and arms singed up to your elbows. The pupils in your eyes had turned into slits and your upper and lower canines sharpened to a point. A tail and two flame like horns appear from your forehead. 

"Don't you EVER touch what's mine!" You snarl, your demon voice merging with yours, nearly overlapping your regular voice 

You launch him of the ground and elbow his stomach the same way he did to you, only, you elbow a lot hard and into the ground. He coughs out blood as he kicks you out of the way. This unphased you as you no longer feel the pain that had been inflicted on you earlier. 

"Damn kid," he coughs, "What's up with you?!" 

You only scream at him and charge toward him, footprints being singed onto the ground, melting the snow. Using whatever strength he had left, he slices your arm off, along with a leg, catching you off guard. This gives him the opportunity to launch you back away from him You snap out of your demon frenzy, but still remain in your form to protect Bela. 

"決起術 (けっきじゅつ)," you and your demon growl, your newly regenerated hand out toward the enemy vampire. The dismembered leg had also grown back. [Translation: "Blood Demon Art"] 

"H-how?! I cut off your limbs.... How are they now grown back?!" He asks demandingly, looking frantically for whatever you were reaching out for 

"��血 (ばっけつ)!!!" You scream, closing your hand, a blue flame exiting from the two ends of your closed fist [Translation: "Exploding Blood!!"] 

From across the field, the vampire bursts into a blue flame. Hearing him scream, he begins writhing in pain. 

"Who are YOU?!?!" He screams 

"An offspring of The Devil," you announce, your human voice comes through, "I protect what's mine!" 

"Please just make it stop!!" He yells, "I won't come back and touch her again I promise!!" 

"And you never will," You only reply before making the flame ignite further 

You watch him burn to a crisp. Watching him become nothing more than ash. You turn to Bela to check on her. When you realized she wasn't moving, you skid across the snowy ground you try to get Bela to wake up. 

"Hey hey, come on princess," you say, "Don't you DARE leave me now. Come on speak to me!" 

You were practically yelling at that point. You hear other footsteps coming out to your direction and you look up; Alcina comes running out to your direction. 

"What on earth happened?!" Alcina asks, "What did you do?!" 

"An enemy vampire trespassed through your grounds, Alcina" you explain, "I didn't notice him until I heard Bela crying out for help." 

"Where is this trespasser?!" She asks 

"I burned him to a crisp," you answer 

She looks up at you, in disbelief. However, when you look at her, there was no joke in your voice or expression. 

"My daughter wake up," she tries calling out to her daughter 

As you watch Alcina try to wake her daughter, it hit you. You know what she needs. 

"B-blood, that's it right? You need blood!" You ask Bela, trying to get her to speak 

Without thinking, you strip off your leather jacket in an effort to Keep her warm. Not caring about your own body heat, you use your claws to make a scar onto your forearm. You take Bela into your un-bloodied arm as you hold out your bloodied one out above her mouth, squeezing the life out of your arm to have your blood drip. You gently open her mouth just as a blood drop falls into her mouth. 

"Come on, come on," you panic 

You watch as she begins to writhe and then watching her mouth latch onto your arm, drinking your blood. It was painful, feeling her fangs sink into your flesh, however, for her, you'd endure it. You place your palm under her head to keep her head steady. You couldn't help but smile slight as you continue to watch her suckling on your arm like a little baby. Bela finally gains consciousness and stops feeding on you. Praying she didn't drink too much. 

"Micul meu demon" she smiles, her fingers gently dancing across your features 

Tears rolled down your eyes as you kiss her unconsciously, regardless if there was now blood on your own mouth. 

"How did you-" Alcina asks 

"She... Apparently likes the way my blood and flesh tastes," you say, "One of the reasons why your daughter decided to keep me." 

You pick Bela up and walk back into the castle with Alcina and her two other daughters waiting for you three in the foyer. 

For the first time that night, you could finally sleep peacefully. The both of you were entangled in each others' embrace, wasting the remaining night away. You never expected that you’d be the demon amongst the vampires. It was never a thought to you that of all living creatures, you, a demon of all things, had caught the eyes of a vampire. Maybe being a demon is a blessing... 

[momolady]

Living Armor Boyfriend: Gus

Written in collab with @chopshoppar (who is turning this into a comic). A sorceress has been forced to forgo her future to make her family, and now husband, happy.

Cis Female Main Character x Male Monster (techinically nonbinary but identifies as male)

When I was a child, I showed an aptitude for magic beyond my years. I was trained by some of the masters, and my skills grew by leaps and bounds. I was considered a prodigy in the field. Unfortunately, as a female, my potential was curtailed. I was expected to give birth to a generation of powerful enchanters, not to be one myself. Despite my progress, both my parents agreed it would be best for me to ‘settle down’ and get married to an eligible bachelor who could take care of me and our future offspring.

I had nothing but sisters, and all of them had married off, started their own families, and appeared to be nothing but happy with their choices. I thought perhaps if I got married, I could continue to teach as a mentor. I was browbeaten into believing that this would be best for me, and for a while I fell for it.

I married a fancy little lord who was more prettiness than substance. During my days of adventuring and using my magic to help the kingdom, I had rescued his family. The neighboring kingdom is full of monsters, and protected by an army of knights unlike anything I have ever seen. My husband’s family had run afoul of these knights, who in their massive armor hid slimy, stretchy tendrils. They were called Consumers. The way they moved and walked was all too human, but the ghastly form inside them was something much more than monstrous.

Because I saved my husband and his family, I was gladly accepted as a match for him, and our union fit like a glove until the seams began to split. Our wedding, honeymoon, and the months after were fine, I suppose. I thought it was a good thing I was married, because I had designs on teaching, but because of my newness to my husband’s station I was expected to entertain. I was a proper hostess, and the tales of all my quests were quite a hit. My husband, on the other hand, liked to be kept entertained, and apparently I was not enough.

I was not made aware of Achilles’ dalliances  until months into our marriage. Apparently, it was common knowledge that he was a lothario. Unfortunately, this was kept from me by his family, who had hoped a proper marriage would make him behave. That would be a hard no. In fact, I think marriage made his behavior worse.

Years have passed, and my best times are behind me, I have never taught magic like I had wanted when I was bright-eyed. I simply exist as a wife who turns a blind eye, drinks, and partakes in the gossip mill. What little release I get comes only when my husband travels and I can pretend he doesn’t exist, or when we travel together to the homes of our friends and I can imagine I live a different life.

Recently, a dear friend of Achilles’ is throwing a ball to celebrate his birthday as well as his anniversary. It will be quite the event, with everyone asked to wear masks and resplendent costumes. I’m excited about the chance to truly pretend I am someone else.

“This will be fun,” Achilles assures me. “We haven’t been to such a grand event since our youth.” The fine lines around his eyes remind me more of my youth than anything else does these days. He shifts his gaze when our eyes meet. The bastard cannot even look me in the eyes when he speaks.

“I don’t want to be one of those couples who dress in the same costume. Please do not make us match, dear husband.” I want to be separate from him in every way. I want to move freely through the crowd and not have to belong to someone.

Achilles gives me a look and smiles. “That is fine with me. Perhaps we could make a game of it.”

I know immediately where he is going. “What do you mean?”

He thinks he’s being smart, and looks so giddy. “Let’s pretend we are strangers, and we can meet each other at the ball as if we have only just met. It will be a riot!” He’s going to bang the first woman he sees and claim he thought it was me. I don’t give a shit. Let him bang the boy who snuffs out the candles again, I care so little. Hell, I might do the very same thing.

“Fine, my love.”

At the ball, I’m left alone. I stand at the window, watching the stars and moon twinkle in the heavens. The gardens look so romantic, lit by ethereal light. There are couples strolling through it, kissing, hugging, and warming themselves together.

Turning back to the ball, my eyes focus on the staff that was hired for the event. Achilles’ friend brought in people from the neighboring kingdom of Priryn, so there are orcs, goblins, and hairy beasts serving food and drink, playing music, and dressed in fine white attire.

It has been a few years since a peace treaty was signed with Priryn to assure trade deals and travel routes, are upheld. And still the folk of Priryn aren’t looked upon kindly. Years ago, I spent some months in Priryn, asked to investigate a militia which was the most formidable army our land had ever seen. Priryn had once been a human kingdom, but the king was not satisfied with his military, and had asked a powerful enchantress to help him create one.

There are many different legends. Some say the enchantress began turning people in the dungeons into immortal, all-powerful creatures. Others say the enchantress would lie with the king, and his own seed was used to create his military. Personally, as an enchantress myself, I just assumed the enchantress had these creatures at the ready and used the king’s request to bring them to full power.

After that the kingdom came under the control of the other folk. Monsters and magic took over Priryn and when the king died the enchantress became queen, ruling the land with her armored horde. This is where I came in. For months I traveled the kingdom in secret, moving between the small human communities that existed there. I gathered a great deal of information, but one night I discovered something that changed me.

I came upon the camp that belonged to the armored horde, but the armor was all lying in piles around the perimeter. Inside there was nothing except a thin, translucent film that felt sticky between my fingers, and smelled surprisingly like honeysuckle. As I wandered further into the camp, I came upon something that is burned into my memory. I still have lingering dreams about it, and on certain nights it stirs a deep response within me.

Humans and monsters were copulating in a massive orgy. Great masses of tendrils held humans and monsters alike as they were ravaged. My breath was stolen from me as I watched men and women be taken and genuinely enjoy it. Their bodies writhed together, begging for more. I was so enraptured I didn’t realize I had been spotted. I was invited into the throng by a beautiful suit of armor that glowed blue from within.

That night, I experienced a pleasure deeper than I ever have before. I was melted and formed into a whole new being, one who understood her body better and more intimately. I suppose that night is why I became so disappointed with my marriage bed. Achilles never liked having a dry dick, but his methods were as plain as toast. He simply moved his hips, squirted, and was on his way.

That night I learned there was more to sex than my back against the bed. My body was a world that needed to be explored, mountain peaks, low valleys, soft, lush plains, and deep warm oceans. I doubted my husband could ever pleasure me properly after that, except when he did that thing with his tongue.

My research mission into Pryrin and the armored horde only scratched the surface. Within the armor there was a strange creature that had no shape, but could take any it desired. It would look like nothing more than a pile of slime if it wasn’t moving, but inside the armor it was formidable and powerful. Inside me, it aroused and satisfied me in a way I never had been before. I was taken from all sides, filled in every orifice, and not left wanting.

The Consumers smelled like honeysuckle, and their taste was just as sweet. I remember the feeling of one pressing against my tongue as it forced its way down my throat. My eyes watered, but it felt good, and just as I was wanting more the creature gave it to me. I was held into the air, taken by the armored horde, three at once. Some wore their armor, others discarded it. For some reason, I liked looking up at the huge suits of armor towing over me, presenting their tendrils for me to suck and stroke to my heart’s content.

When they released, they coated me in a juicy and viscous fluid. It was sheer with a slight shimmer, and it clung to my skin. They filled me with it, and in the morning I watched as it dripped from between my legs. I was enthralled, but I knew I had to return home, I couldn’t stay and indulge with them. It was the last mission I would ever take, as I was returning home to get married. I was putting away my wand, my magic, and my newfound desire with it.

I’m gathering my courage to go into the crowd and pick my ‘husband’ out from the faceless masks. I’m ready to be taken, pushed down, and used until my knees no longer work. Unfortunately, my actual husband finds me.

He takes hold of my arm and yanks me aside. “Adeline,” he says urgently. “Come now.”

“Wait!” I look across the room, hopeful and yearning. My thoughts have been focused and now I am eager to partake. “I thought you said...”

He pulls me closer to him, putting his arm around my waist. “Let us go. We can have fun in the carriage on the way home.”

I glare up at him and feel a heat in my chest. “What did you do?”

He laughs suspiciously. “Nothing! I swear! I have been with you all night.”

I push him away from me. “What the fuck did you do, Achilles?”

He grabs me again and forces me to follow him. “Just do as I say, as my wife. I need you to stand beside me right now.”

“Who was it this time, Achilles?” I slap his arm. I will not give him a moment's peace until we get home. “Lady Mora? Lady Constantine? Or how about Lord Merrick and Lord Fallow?”

He turns and slaps me, knocking off my mask and dislodging some of my hair. “Be my wife!”

I scoff, rubbing my jaw and glaring after him. “How dare you, you miserable...”

I hear shouting behind us, and look back down the hallway to see a man being wrestled by members of the party. He looks angry, disheveled, and ready to beat the absolute shit out of Achilles.

“That’s General Traister,” I snarl under my breath. My jaw hurts, but somehow, this is worse. “Madame Traister? Really, Achilles?”

“I thought she was you.”

I knew it. I strike him, beating him as he continues to run with me. “She’s got bigger boobs than my head! How the hell did you think that was me?”

Achilles forces me back into the carriage just as General Traister is yelling down the hallway. We ride off, speeding towards the gates and out onto the wooded trail home. I sit there fuming, practically spewing smoke from my ears. Achilles sits there, sighing and smirking.

“Did you have fun?”

I look at him through the ringlets of hair dangling in front of my face. “Did I have fun?” I snarl at him. “You fucked Madame Traister, struck me, and now I am certain our name is shit in the mouths of all our friends.” I start to laugh and I shake my head. “I had a wonderful night, Achilles, absolutely wonderful.” I turn and look out the window, angrier than I have ever been.

Achilles sits back in silence. “I am sorry about striking you. I hope you can find it in your big beautiful heart to forgive me.”

I push away the hair in my face. “You don’t get to talk ever again until I say so.”

He hangs his head, then moves over to sit beside me. “I am sorry, my love. I will never do it again. Let me make it up to you.” He puts his hand on my hip. “Let me kiss it and make it better.”

I throw him out of the moving carriage. “You can make it better by rotting out there, you miserable...”

I stop. The carriage comes to a halt as an armored horde makes itself known. Magical torches light, casting a light purple glow all around us. The massive suits of armor come from the woods to block the trail before us. A suit of armor comes to my window. “You may continue, but the man is coming with us.”

“What?” I gasp.

The suit of armor is a much darker shade than the others, more blue than platinum. He also has broader shoulders. “He is wanted in Priryn. We were on our way to the manor up the road to take him and others into our custody.”

“Wanted? For what?” I balk.

The suits of armor shift, and I can see deep dents to their breastplates and other parts. “They stole precious artwork from a Priryn royal caravan.”

My husband came home some time ago with gifts for me - a beautiful painting, matching vases, and the very necklace I’m wearing. I become even more enraged than before. “Where will you be taking him?” I ask.

“That is not for you to know. Go home and let us deal with our matters in our own way.” The suit of armor takes an unconscious Achilles and drapes him over his shoulder. The rest of the horde move up the path, but he continues ahead before vanishing into the thickest part of the forest.

I sit in the carriage for the longest time. My mind is blank, but it begins to storm inside me. My thoughts are dark clouds, and my desires bolts of lightning. Achilles may be a piece of shit, but he is my piece of shit, and I feel I deserve to be the one to punish him, not the kingdom of Priryn. I step from the carriage and follow after the knight. Above, real storm clouds have begun to form, and thunder rumbles in the distance.

It has been a long time, but the magic is strong inside me. Rocks from the path begin to levitate, and with a flick of my wrist I throw them at the knight. It is not as precise or as strong without my wand, but it still gets the job done.

The knight turns and glares down at me. “Keep going, my lady. It would be best if you…”

A large rock strikes his helmet and spins it all the way around backwards. “He is mine,” I snarl under my breath. “Give him back to me.”

The knight unceremoniously drops Achilles from his shoulder and takes out his sword. “My lady, I really have no wish to harm you. But my orders are my orders, and I must uphold them.”

It begins to rain as I face him down. I know I am just one woman, but he is also just one knight. Maybe my magic will be enough to handle him. Maybe I just need to vent all this frustration on somebody who can take it. “You’re messing with the wrong woman on the wrong night. You don’t get a piece of him until I do!” I throw out my arms and the trees move, bending and snapping to reach down to grab him. He dodges, swinging his sword and chopping away branches and vines.

The rain comes down almost violently, but I am not deterred by it. I am too angry, too frustrated to let anything go. I will fight until the end, and I don’t know if even that will stop me.

Fire snaps and crackles from my fingertips, and I throw blue flames at him. He repels them and charges forward. I leap up into the air and fly over him. I manage to land a firebolt into his back and knock him over, and he splats into the fresh mud.

I wipe rain from my face and push my hair back. I race to find Achilles, but he’s gone. I run back up along the path to see if he had gotten tossed somewhere, but as I reach the road again, I see our carriage race off with him inside.

My heart sinks as the river rises. It churns from its basin, flooding the banks, and I’m knocked off my feet and carried by the torrent. The knight grabs me, pulling me to his side. The last thing I see is him before I close my eyes.

I wake to a cold, dank smell and the distant dripping of water. I rise slowly, and my body aches all over, but as my eyes open I see the armor hovering above me. I flinch and lie still in his lap. “About time you woke up,” he says.

I grimace at him and push myself away. “What happened?” I reach up to feel my hair, but it has become almost completely undone.

The armor adjusts his position so his legs stretch out. “The rain caused the river to overflow, and that swept us away. I managed to get us to safety, but I am afraid it was at a cost.”

I examine my body, but when I find it intact I look back up at him. “What was the cost?”

He shrugs. “I have no clue where we are.”

I scoff and flop back to the ground, sitting against the cold rock wall. “Are we in a cave or something?”

His head turns back and forth. “Or something.”

He’s aggravating, but in the back of mind I am grateful it is him and not my husband. “What sort of knight are you?”

“I am a fighter. I am not meant to know things or look pretty.”

That explains his dingy and battered exterior. “At least you’re honest. Was someone like you really necessary to apprehend my husband?

He tilts his head down, and I feel the sudden need to tuck in my legs. “Not really. But my threatening aura and size has a way of making others compliant.”

“Whatever he stole, I’ll give it back.” I take the necklace from around my neck and chuck it at him. “If we make it out of here alive, that is.” I lean back against the wall. If I focus, I can still hear the water rushing outside somewhere.

“It has been a while since I have had a good fight,” the suit of armor says. “I was very impressed with you, my lady.” He picks up the necklace, and it fits perfectly in his huge hand.

“Adeline,” I correct him. “I don’t like being called lady, or ma’am, or whatever the hell people call women.”

He lays a hand on his chest. “Adeline, it was a pleasure to fight you.”

My frown slowly shifts into a smile. “It’s been a while,” I chuckle. “I’m surprised I still had the old stuff.” I look up at him, his dented armor, his wilting cape, his massive size. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t have one,” he answers. “The armored horde is happy to be just that.”

“If you’re calling me by my name, I want to call you something other than ‘it’ or ‘thing’.” I think for a moment. “I’ll call you Gus.”

“Gus?” He tilts his head to the side.

I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “Yes, when I was little, I had a cat with that name. He was huge, and he was often missing fur in patches. You remind me of him.”

“Huh,” he murmurs.

I rub my arms. “If I knew where we were, I would light a fire. But that would probably suffocate me before it warmed me up.”

Gus places the necklace into one of the pouches at his belt. “I too am cold, and that is why I have not attempted to escape. Not only that, I am quite hungry. The water took quite a bit out of me.”

I remember that the orgy I had taken part in all those years ago was part of a feeding ritual the Consumers had to take part in. It enabled them to last for months without stopping, part of what made them such a powerful force.

I pull my legs in tighter. “If you touch me, I’ll start a fire.”

“I don’t touch unless asked,” Gus answers.

“I’ve seen your kind feed before,” I venture. “You get messy.”

Gus tilts his head. “Only when it is a necessary frenzy.” He leans back and twiddles his thumbs.

I sit for a while, cold, wet, and still agitated. For a long time we sit in silence, and still the sound of rushing water flows by. I scoff and tilt my head back, running my fingers through my hair. “I can’t believe he left me. I should have just let you take him!”

“You love him, though.”

“No, I don’t. I wanted to be the one to throw him in jail, not you.” Tears begin to fill my eyes, and I bow my head as they start to come. “I wanted to beat the tar out of him!”

“Oh. Well...” Gus hesitates. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Just be quiet, then!” I blubber, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t need you saying shit!” I can’t stop the tears. All my frustration is coming out. Something soft and slippery touches my cheek. Gus has removed a glove, and his form is touching me directly. He drinks up my tears while giving me a gentle touch that makes me shiver.

I place my hand around his wrist. “I thought you didn’t touch.”

“I’m drinking.” Gus moves his other hand onto my face, wiping up tears as they flow freely. “It helps.”

He smells like honeysuckle. My heart hammers and quickens pace while my nipples become stiff peaks.

“You remind me of someone too,” Gus murmurs.

I sniffle and he drinks more tears. “A dog?”

“No, a girl.” He tilts his head forward. “She was cute and soft, and she joined in feeding me and others in the armored horde. She tasted so good that I stayed with her all night. I didn’t want to try anyone else. This was before I made a weapon of myself.”

My heart skips a beat. It’s not possible. “You like women?” I ask.

“I love women,” he says breathlessly. “But she remains special to me.”

I flick my tongue out, licking the tendrils that touch my cheek. “Who knew you brutes had a soft spot?”

Gus pressed against my tongue, then quickly recoils. “Some of us have gotten in trouble before.”

I can see parts of his body squirming, as if becoming too big in certain places. “From feeding too much?”

“That, and well...” His voice hitches. “Not focusing on our duties.”

I sit back, wondering if I should calm down. I need to preserve my strength, though right now Gus’ strength could be of better use than my own. He could get us out of here, hopefully easily. I have to weigh my options. “You feel pleasure when you feed?”

Gus nods. “We were made to surpass mortals, but in our creation, we still have some of their drives.”

“So...” I click my tongue. “What would you need in order to get us out of here? I know that when you feed, some of my strength will fade, so I will be dependent on you. I don’t want to be completely depleted, so what would be the bare minimum?”

“You could just lick me some,” Gus sounds nervous.

I lick my lips. “That’s all?”

Gus fidgets. “Yes.” His armor splits at the groin, and a mass of tendrils stretches out and forms a long, thick phallus. It drips and the sweet, honeyed smell of it fills the enclosed space. “I’m sorry!” he yelps. “I’m excited and so hungry!” He tries to tuck it back, but my eyes have become focused upon it.

“So big,” I whisper. I clear my throat to cover myself. “If a few licks is all you need, I can sacrifice a little saliva.” I inch closer to him, placing myself between his legs. I’m so excited I’m almost shaking. I have been dreaming of this since the morning I had to abandon the orgy. I dip down, licking the end and going all the way to the base. Some of the tendrils shiver and shake, and others come loose and stick to my cheek. I’m drooling as I remember the way one of these was forced down my throat. I lift my head and slather my tongue over the tip.

“Th-that’ll be fine...” Gus’ voice sounds deeper.

I consider pulling back and letting this be it. Then I think of my husband with Madame Treister and her huge tits, and I devour him. I take Gus into my mouth, stretching my jaw as much as possible and taking his mass into my throat.

“Adeline!” he yelps.

I moan against him, slurping, gulping, truly letting go of myself. I pull up, panting, drool connecting my lips to his thick shaft. I grin greedily, wanting more. “Next time, push my head down.” I grab his hand and make him fist my hair. “Just to make sure you get enough.”

“Really?” His voice echoes.

I lick my lips and undo the top of my dress, letting my breasts hang out. “Really.” I take him again, and when I think I can take no more he pushes my head down. I feel him slither and writhe in my throat, just like all those years ago. I moan and press closer, letting my breasts press against his armor.

“Adeline,” he whimpers. That viscous fluid begins to leak from his armor.

I pull up, my throat sore, my lips plump, and still drooling. I lick down his shaft and up again, unable to get enough of the sweetness that seeps from him.

A tendril strokes between my breasts, then splits and coils around them, squeezing them and trapping them in a vise. I bite my lip hard as I throw my head back. His touch feels too good.

“You taste so good.” Gus grabs me, pulling me up close to him. He strips away the remainder of my dress and begins to envelop me. I sit with my back against him and my hands on his thighs. My hands sink into his mass, and he holds me there with my ass in his lap. Gus leans over my shoulder, groping my breasts, squeezing my thighs, and opening me up all at once. I feel his tendrils prodding at my slick mound as well as my ass.

“Let me inside,” Gus whispers. “I’ll have enough strength to free us and run you all the way home.”

I can’t stop grinning as I watch him writhe all over me. I lean back to look at him. “Do I really taste good?”

His helmet opens and his tongue licks across my lips. “The best.” He kisses me, slipping his tongue down my throat. My eyes nearly roll back as he slips inside, a thick writhing mass in each tight orifice. I squeeze hard around him, wanting to feel everything.

“Adeline,” Gus moans. “You’re delicious.”

I moan against his tongue, gazing up at the cave like it was the sky. He fills me completely, giving me the pleasure I have been chasing ever since that night.

“It’s you. I knew it,” Gus breathes. “The pretty enchantress.”

“How can that be possible?” I whimper loudly. “How can you know?”

He thrusts deep inside, and I gush around his shaft. “I never could forget this flavor, Adeline.”

I lose all thought. He feeds and fucks me at the same time, eager and excited he’s found his favorite meal. Time has become lost to me. I want this pleasure forever. I want my husband to vanish from memory. I wouldn’t mind if Gus took all of me. If it felt this good, I would happily slip into oblivion knowing this divine pleasure. I let my mind leave me.

I wake on Gus’ back as the sun crests over the mountains. He’s carried me from the cave and he’s standing waist deep in water.

“You got us out?” I yawn.

“I did!” he announces loudly and proudly. “I promised to get you home! So home is where we are going!”

“Oh, good,” I say sleepily, and rest back against him. “Do you know where I live?”

Gus flinches. “I...”

I sigh and sit up on his back. “Well, first let's find the main road.”

We eventually get headed in the right direction. He also obtains a horse along the way, so the trip is a little bit shorter than it would be walking the entire way. Once we return to the estate, there is no sign of my husband. The further I look for him the more I find missing. He has taken quite a bit from our home - his clothes, what riches he could carry, as well as our best silver.

“It isn’t right for me to leave a lady alone and unattended!” Gus says. “Adeline, I will stay with you and make sure you are safe.”

I smile, hiding it behind my hand so he won’t see it. “That may be a long time, Gus. And I am quite the handful.”

Gus stands erect and salutes. “It doesn’t matter to me, Adeline. As long as you’re alone, I will stand by your side!”

I place my hand on his chest. “I will not be guarded by someone in such horrible armor. We will have to get you something much nicer. Something that will suit a lady of my caliber.” I smile up at him. “Are you willing to leave your armored horde?”

“I will still be part of it,” he chuckles. “I can just say I am waiting on the enemy to return.”

I pull him down and give him a kiss. “I like that.”

As time goes on, Achilles' abandonment makes me the darling of all our friends and acquaintances. They offer me their sympathy and support, and bit by bit, I begin to feel like my old self again. I take the role of the grieving wife, bringing in young enchanters to fill the void in my life.

“I will never remarry. It would be too painful,” I lament. But me and my students all know the truth. Remarriage would be painful, but not for the reasons everyone would assume. I have a bedmate to keep me company, one that is loyal, obedient, and eager to please.

“Adeline, I’m a bit peckish,” Gus whispers to me.

“Then let me give you a snack, my good knight.” I smile up at him. “Come with me to my chambers, and I will feed you readily.”

Gus takes hold of my hand. “Thank you, Adeline.”

I smirk as he leads me away, lacing my fingers with his. “My pleasure.”

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 2

Thank you so much for all your reactions to part 1! I hope you enjoy part two just as much :)

CW: mentions of past minor character death (incl. a pregnant woman)

7.3k - masterlist - ao3

--

Her first day of shooting isn’t great. It’s not bad by a long way, but it could have easily been better. They’re on location in a forest somewhere in the outskirts of Rifthold and she didn’t even know there were places in the city like this, she’d assumed it was all the sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers and crowded streets, but apparently not.

She’s cold. There’s a machine beating down torrents of fake rain on her and Fenrys where they stand opposite each other on the muddy path through the trees, they’re filming the scene where their characters first meet. Her feet are soggy inside the canvas trainers she’s wearing and they keep spraying water on her hair to keep the wet look running throughout all of the takes and she hates it. She’s uncomfortable and stiff but she comforts herself with the knowledge that Fenrys is the same if the frown he wears whenever the camera isn’t on him is anything to go by.

It helps, barely.

She keeps having to spit water out of her mouth between lines, she swears it never rains this heavily in real life but who is she to comment, and she watches Rowan’s lips twist in displeasure where he sits behind the camera every time she does it. Aelin’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do, he can sit there out of the line of the water all fine, but she can’t speak with her mouth full.

It can take time to fall into the natural rhythm of shooting a new project, even the shitty ones she’s done in the past have shown her that, but there’s something about the way Rowan watches her that prickles the back of her neck, his stare intense and heavy as he watches, that adds the pressure. She wants to show him that she can do this. She wants his approval.

She ignores the reasons why.

After they finish and Rowan has called cut she sulks back to her trailer, she’s only just managed to change out of her sodden clothes when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Fenrys, warm and dry now in his own change of clothes.

They’ve sort of become friends recently, after swapping numbers after the table read he had texted her first. The studio has put him in the same complex as her and they’ve shared a car back there a couple of times after some of their meetings. She likes him a lot actually, and while she knows his reputation of infamy with the ladies follows him around like a bad smell, she feels comfortable with him.

“That could have gone better,” he tells her as he flops down onto the two-seater sofa at the end of her trailer, the other half has a mound of clothes dumped on it that she hasn’t bothered to sort through yet.

She just shoots him a look that she hopes says tell me about it.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he tells her, reassuringly. He would know she supposes, he has far more experience than her.

“I hope so.”

“How’re you finding it so far, working with Rowan?” he asks, and she frowns, bristling at the fact that he somehow knows the worst question to ask already. Aelin doesn’t think she’s behaved weirdly around Rowan since the day at the table read, in fact she’s tried to avoid him where possible. Maybe that’s it.

“Fine,” she says, but that’s not quite true. It messes with her in a dangerous way every time she knows he’s watching her. She should be able to turn that part of her brain off during a scene, she trained for years to learn how to do that, but he gets to her. She’s working on it.

Fenrys laughs, seeing right through her.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him, the first time we worked together I thought he was a total dick.” She gives him the same look as before as she clears the clothes and sits down next to him.

“I swear he’s not that bad. He’s just-” Fenrys pauses, weighing her up with a look, and something that he takes in from the way she stands, gnawing on her lower lip with her hair still wet, has him saying; “He’s got a lot riding on this.”

“Why?”

It doesn’t feel like he has a lot riding on this, his last piece was nominated for the Oscars, how much higher than that can you get? It’s not like he’s in the same position as her, desperately clawing herself back to a place where she can be cast in a role and it not be followed by a stunned, oh?

She knows there were articles written when her casting was announced that were doubtful of her ability to do this movie, that questioned whether she’s up to the task and whether she’s good enough to be standing next to names like Fenrys and Rowan. Some of the articles were straight up mean, and she only knows that because she searched them up like a masochist when all the ones Elide sent over were far too nice.

A dark part of herself can’t help but fall prey to some of the headlines. The ones that throw around words like nepotism, the ones that question whether Aelin is talented enough to be where she is cut deeper than any knife, and only half of it is because she sometimes wonders the same. She should be better than that, but the reminder catches in her throat that she really does have a lot riding on this.

“It’s not really my place to say.”

That’s a load of shit, and she tells him so. He only shrugs, not willing to so openly gossip about their boss.

“How well do you know him exactly?” She’s fishing for any details, but it definitely could be passed off as casual curiosity.

“He directed my debut, we keep in touch every so often.” He’s nonchalant. “He asked me to audition for this.”

“Nice humble brag.”

Fenrys only flashes her his movie star grin, in combination with the wink he throws at her it’s almost an effort not to blush.

“He wanted you cast, you know?” That she didn’t know, but it’s nice to hear.

“Why? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re hard work, you know?” He’s joking but it doesn’t sit quite right. She knows it’s true. “Come with us tonight. There's a group of us getting dinner, and you can ask him yourself.”

It’s an olive branch. She knows it’s obvious to everyone that she’s uncomfortable, still hasn’t quite found her feet on set after taking such a break, and it’s one that she’s grateful for. No matter how closed off she knows she still seems to them.

“Okay,” she says and Fenrys’ smile is genuine and a part of her lifts, it’s a start.

They share a car to the restaurant and he fills the journey with easy chatter. She appreciates it because she feels really fucking rusty. It’s been a while since she spoke to anyone outside of her immediate circle of friends and family, and it’s always been easy with them. This is different, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes she worries that, as much as they love her, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide are inclined to tread lightly around her. She’d like to think that she’s not that fragile, that she could take the full front of their humour and teasing like she used to, but then remembers when Fenrys’ joke fell flat for her in the trailer and she thinks again.

Either way, the cast and crew here don’t treat her like she’s broken, or even breakable, and it’s refreshing.

Fenrys leads the way into the restaurant, and there’s definitely paparazzi down the street snapping away at them as they cross the short distance from the car to the door. She tries to ignore it, she’ll text Elide once they’re done here, even though Elide will probably be overjoyed. It’s probably (definitely) easier to publicise your talent when she’s out there doing things with other famous people compared to staying inside her home alone.

Fenrys greets the staff on the door and they lead them through the restaurant to a staircase at the back of the room and it leads up to a private space with only one table. Right, privacy. Some of these guys are proper celebrities.

They’re the last ones there, and there’s two seats left at the table. Manon is here, so is Rowan and one of the executive producers who she thinks is called Gavriel.

“Alright guys, you all know Aelin,” Fenrys says and she smiles as they greet her.

Fenrys holds a chair out for her, the one next to Rowan, and she slides into it as he takes the one on her other side.

Rowan offers her a quirk of his lips, one she returns as she takes him in. He’s wearing short sleeves this time and she gets a good look at the tattoo snaking the whole way down his left arm. It’s in the Old Language and she can’t read it, even though her father had spent hours trying to teach her when she was a kid, but the lettering is beautiful and neat. She wants to reach out and touch, to trace the lines that roll down his golden skin.

She doesn’t. Obviously.

A waiter comes over to take their drink orders, Fenrys gets a beer, Manon and Gavriel opt for wine, but Rowan asks for an orange juice. He’s not drinking either and she wonders if it’s related to the reason he needs this movie to go well. So she’s nosy? So what?

She sits back and observes as the conversation flows, laughing along at the easy banter that flows between the three men and the sarcastic quips Manon throws in. Fenrys clearly understated his relationship with Rowan, they seem tight and have a clear fondness for one another. It’s easy to slot herself in as the night progresses, snarking with Manon and joining in with the general light-hearted mockery of Fenrys.

She thinks maybe so far she’s got Rowan wrong.

Tonight he’s quick-witted and charming, and he makes his best effort to include her in the conversation which she appreciates. It’s a contrast to the dark and teasing side of him she’s seen so far in the hallway and the table read. Maybe he’s decided to just start again, pretend they never met before she was cast, and she can do that too.

“So, Aelin.” Manon turns the spotlight to her after a while. “Tell us the scoop. I’ve not seen you in anything for a while.”

It’s not a nasty question, Aelin can just tell from the way she asks it, nothing more than genuine curiosity lies in her tone even if the phrasing is somewhat harsh. Manon might not be the bubbliest of characters, she’s blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush, but she’s not unkind, and Aelin doubts if she knew the truth she’d ask that question in such a way.

Elide managed to keep the worst of her… career break? One could phrase it more like breakdown, out of the limelight. She somehow managed to keep the worst of it hidden, and Aelin will owe her that for the rest of her life.

All the world knows is that Sam was murdered when they were both still newbies to their respective industries, neither of them had had their big break yet, and after that she took a break. For three years.

She remembers the headlines from the time, most were in smaller magazines, Sam wasn’t famous enough to make the front pages. Her mouth tastes like bile.

Singer-Songwriter Sam Cortland, 20, murdered in random street attack in Orynth, girlfriend Aelin Ashryver unharmed and working with police to identify suspect.

No one knows she knelt there in his blood begging for him to open his eyes, not even Aedion, or Lysandra or Elide, and she blinks back the image now. Her hands are curled into fists below the table and she forces herself to uncurl them and lay them flat against her jeans.

“Yeah,” she says after clearing her throat. “I took a break from it all for a few years, but I’m back now obviously and really excited for it.”

Manon nods and Gavriel raises a glass. He’s been nothing but kind to her all night. He kind of reminds her of her father, though he’s not that old, probably not even forty yet. He’s softly spoken and counters each snarky comment from Fenrys or Manon with something softer but no less amusing.

“Good to hear,” Fenrys says with a grin, clinking his glass against Gavriel’s.

The way Rowan watches her as he raises his own glass in a toast to her, careful and without speaking, tells her he knows. At least the basics about Sam, and it seems like maybe he did google her just like she joked back at the table read.

Their meals arrive then, mercifully taking the attention away from her. She needs to find a better way to deal with the attention than shutting down, especially if this film is going to be as big as everyone thinks it will be. She should call her therapist.

She will.

Eventually.

They leave the restaurant not long after, Fenrys covering the bill, emphasising that this was a celebration and an initiation for Aelin. She almost blushes for some unknown reason at his words, but she likes it. It sounds good. Like she really is back, or at least will be.

They each give her their numbers, and she likes the way he’s in her phone now as Rowan rather than Rowan Whitethorn, it feels like he’s not just someone from work. Not just her boss.

They each say goodbye and share a series of embraces, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that follow, desperate for any kind of incriminating image of any of the five of them. It’s clear that most of them are here for Fenrys, but she still makes sure to keep her expression clear and guarded as Rowan wraps her into a one-armed hug when they leave. It’s not just for the paparazzi.

Back in her apartment, when she’s tucked up in bed knowing she should be asleep, she can’t stop herself from googling him. She’s honestly surprised she’s lasted this long.

The first few news articles to come up are all about the movie and she scrolls past them, instead pulling up his Wikipedia page and scrolling straight to the personal life section. Maybe this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever got to know a friend, but she’s intrigued and still slightly flustered by him so it will do.

The section on his personal life is relatively bare, and it doesn’t surprise her. His Instagram account alone told her pretty explicitly that he’s a private kind of guy. She almost scrolls away after the first few lines, they don’t give her much information other than the college he went to and the languages he speaks, but she reads the final few lines of the section anyway.

In March 2018 Whitethorn’s fiance, Lyria Woods, passed away as the result of a road traffic accident. The driver of the other vehicle was found to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of the accident and was later sentenced to 6 years in prison for death by dangerous driving. Woods was 12 weeks pregnant with their child at the time of the accident.

Only a couple of weeks after the Oscars that she and Lysandra watched. She does the maths and realises this is his first film since then and thinks she knows what Fenrys meant.

Fucking shit.

Her second day of shooting goes better than the first, just as Fenrys said it would.

She’s more relaxed when she crosses the set from her trailer with a coffee in hand and she thinks she knows her place a little better now, even after only one night spent with the others.

She lies back while her make up is done, chatting to the make-up artist instead of sitting silently like the day before, and she’s almost ready for the discomfort that her wet hair will bring. The weather adds to the atmosphere of the film, dark and dreary and moody, and she gets why they’re doing it, but it still sucks.

Fenrys is ready when she gets there, and while she’s not avoiding Rowan today after finding out about his… past, she just finds it difficult to look him in the eye knowing what she does. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that she knew, if it’s on Wikipedia it’s public knowledge and they have made jokes about googling each other, but she feels weird in a way that she didn’t learn it from him. It feels intrusive, or invasive, to find out about something like that through Wikipedia.

But even though they bonded somewhat last night, and he greeted her this morning with an easy hey, they’re still not close. No matter that she thinks she might want them to be. She’s trying again to ignore the way she feels drawn to him, the way her eyes seek him out without her permission.

She knows she kills the take. Knows it from the high five Fenrys slaps against her palm once Rowan’s called cut and from the swift nod he offers her when she glances towards him.

There seem to be two Rowan’s too, there’s the award winning director Rowan Whitethorn, and then just Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn is cool and calculating and distant, quiet while he watches their scene from his place behind the camera, the big black headphones he uses pushed down around his neck. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s while he watches for all the minute details of their expressions and any improvements they could make. He doesn’t give her that many she’s pleased to note.

The way he instructs them is impressive, with clear directions and thoughtful analyses. She’s been here two days and she knows how he got the Oscar nomination, he’s scarily intelligent and seems to know exactly what’s off about a performance before she figures it out herself.

The other side to him, the side that is just Rowan is…

Just Rowan is the one she likes more.

She suspects the smile he gives her later, after they’ve nailed the bulk of the scene in one take and she’s being twirled around by Fenrys, comes from him.

She has two full days off in a row, and she decides the best use of her time is to go and stay with Aedion and Lysandra. Fenrys isn’t free, and the reason she is is that he has a load of solo scenes to shoot, and she doesn’t envy him at all.

Lysandra is ecstatic when she announces via a group text to her and Aedion that she’ll be at their house for lunchtime, and she loves it, but it makes her feel a little guilty. That she’s let it get to the point when her friend reacts like that at her promise of a visit is quite frankly appalling, but she finally feels as if she’s taken the first step. She’s on the bottom rung of the ladder, and it’s taken her a while, but she’s there now.

Aedion and Lysandra live in a disgustingly big house in a gated part of the suburbs, and she knows the house isn’t exactly what they would have chosen in an ideal world, it’s too big and garish and grey, but there are gates by the entrance and 24 hour security.

It still messes with her head that Aedion is that famous. Aedion. Her gangly cousin, always too tall for his own good, who used to pull her hair when they were kids and sneak her extra helpings of cake at family parties before her parents divorced. She doesn’t know that much about football, so little in fact that her dad and Aedion teased her relentlessly for years, but everyone tells her he’s good.

Like really good.

The salary he gets from the Ravens is more than enough proof.

She rings their front door bell and she can hear Lysandra’s quick steps before the big wooden door is pulled open.

Her friend is glowing. Her dark hair falls into waves near the end and her staggeringly beautiful face is free of any make-up and unblemished and dewy. She’s had time to get over the insecurities that come from being friends with Lysandra so it barely phases her as she wraps her arms around her friend.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers into Lysandra’s hair. It smells like coconut and citrus and just Lysandra.

“I missed you too. So much,” Lysandra sighs as she pulls back, dragging Aelin into the house and shutting the door.

Their hallway is grand and open but there’s a pile of their shoes by the wall and a rack of coats that make it feel more homely. There are framed photos carefully arranged on the sideboard in the entry way that show the two of them with their whole family and all of their friends.

There’s one on there of Aelin and Lysandra at eighteen, their arms thrown tightly around each other while they grin massive, excited smiles at the camera, or more likely Elide behind it. She remembers the day it was taken, Lysandra had signed to her first agency and arranged to move to Rifthold, and they had taken her out to celebrate.

It was around the same time she signed for her first movie, a tiny role with two lines and twenty seconds of screen time but it got the ball rolling with her first proper acting credit, and she’ll never forget it.

A head of golden hair pokes around the kitchen doorway at the end of the hall and she lets her cousin sweep her up into a hug, swinging her up and around so her feet dangle above the floor.

“Alien, we’ve missed you.”

A stupid nickname from when they were young, the kind of young where he thought it was hilarious to replace her name with an extraterrestrial, but it only makes her smile now, squeezing her cousin tight before he puts her back down.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been lost without me.” She beams at them, taking a moment to soak in how it feels to be with them even as Aedion rolls his eyes. “I’ve missed you both too.”

“Lunch is ready, come on,” Aedion tells her as he takes her case and drags it through the house, leaving it by the bottom of the stairs. It’s then that she spots the frilly pink apron tied around his waist.

“Alright,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to try what the domestic goddess has in store for us.”

Peals of laughter burst out of Lysandra and she grins back at her, forever grateful that they managed to keep their relationship with each other from ever impacting on their relationship with Aelin. At first she had been worried that Aedion and Lysandra would become AedionAndLysandra and that she wouldn’t have a place left with them, but she needn’t have worried, and they worked too well together for Aelin to have ever wished for anything different.

“Gods, shut up,” he mutters, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. “So annoying, both of you.”

She grins as she hears Lysandra smack an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Aedion’s a surprisingly good cook, the lunch he’s made is tasty despite being carefully planned to fit into both his and Lysandra’s strict meal plans. If they’re the cost needed to be able to live in a house like this, Aelin doesn’t want it.

“So,” Aedion says after he’s finished chewing a mouthful. “How are things going?”

He asks it with a gentle kind of sensitivity that she understands what he’s really asking. She knows it’s code for are you still sober? but she also knows he hasn’t asked it because he doubts her. Aedion and Lysandra have always been in her corner, even in her darkest moments they were there.

She never wants to put them through anything like that ever again. Never wants them to experience anything as terrifying as the last night she ever touched a drug. That night, almost a year ago now, will forever be the bottom of her pit. She doesn’t remember much of it, other than the devastation on Aedion’s face as he carried her out of the men’s toilets of a seedy nightclub in Perranth. The way he’d bitten his lip as he picked her up off the sticky floor, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover her underwear where it had ridden up.

The thought makes her sick.

He’d had to skip a game, leading to a bollocking from his coach, but he’d done it for her. Had carried her out of the club and into a car, waiting to take them back to his house. Lysandra had stroked her hair where she lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor while Aedion called a doctor to the house. Even through his panic he had thought of her and how little she would want it publicised that she’d been pulled out of a club, off her fucking rocker on whatever substance she’d been given by the lowlives she had fallen in with. She’s really, really lucky that for once Aedion hadn’t been followed by paparazzi.

She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she answers, it feels like all she ever drinks these days and it tastes like shit but it’s worth it if she never reverts back to where she was.

“I’m good.” She’s almost surprised to find that it’s true. “I’m feeling much better.”

She can barely look at them, can barely take the level of subdued joy on their faces.

“We’re glad Aelin, really glad.” Lysandra’s voice is sincere.

“So, how’s the new project going?” Aedion asks her, sensing her discomfort almost immediately.

“That’s good too actually.” It is. It feels good to have something positive to focus on, something that she feels is productive and worth doing. “It’s nice to be back and be busy even if the morning shoots begin disgustingly early. It’s good to be on set, surrounded by it all again and to remember that I can actually do this.”

She stabs her fork through a piece of tomato a little aggressively as she finishes and the look Lysandra shoots her tells her she’s not impressed with the self-deprecation but that she’ll let it slide for now.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam, is he really that good looking in real life?”

Aelin laughs. “More actually, sometimes it's too much.”

“Nice,” Lysandra nods appreciatively.

“Is he alright though?” Ever the overprotective older brother figure, she expected some version of this question from Aedion.

“He’s great. He’s hilarious and it really helps on the long days,” she says before taking her next bite.

“And Rowan Whitethorn’s directing isn’t he? What’s he like?”

Aelin blinks and finishes chewing slowly. “He’s… fine.”

She knows she’s fucked it when Aedion and Lysandra share a look, matching smirks beginning on each of their faces.

“Fine,” Lysandra repeats. “What exactly does fine mean Aelin?”

She purses her lips. “He’s a great director.”

Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And?”

She could probably lie here, they’d probably let it slide if she said some bullshit about how they’ve not spoken much and how she barely knows him, but she honestly needs to talk to someone about this. You know, to set her straight.

“And he’s really hot.”

She’s blushing as Lysandra laughs and Aedion chuckles.

“You’ve got a crush,” Lysandra sing-songs, and when she doesn't respond she says, “Have you got a picture of him? I don’t think I actually know what he looks like.”

She can’t blame Lysandra for that, she’s still kicking herself for not recognising him that day in the hallway, but he was only on screen for a few seconds at the Oscars and it wasn’t long after Sam so it wasn’t like she was paying attention in that way. She still thinks she should have noticed.

She pulls her phone out to find the only picture she has on there with Rowan. She had only taken it this week when they were eating breakfast with Fenrys one morning, in one of the tents that had been set up for them to sit in between takes, and Fenrys had pulled his phone out to snap a photo of her for his Instagram story.

She’d been wrapped up in one of the huge parkas they’re given for the times in between scenes holding her croissant high up in the air when he’d taken it. He’d captioned it she could have dropped her croissant and tagged her, and she’d gained a good few thousand followers. She’s almost at a million and they’re only a couple of weeks into shooting.

She had taken one of him in response and then spun around to force Rowan into a selfie with her, he’d protested but she’d pouted until he relented, grumbling something about actors that she knew he didn’t mean. She didn’t post it anywhere, she kept it to herself and she can’t lie, she’s looked at it way too many times since.

She’s smiling a wide smile, cheeks stuffed full of her croissant and it’s really kind of gross, but the small smile on Rowan’s face makes it bearable. More than bearable, she has to resist the temptation to make it her lock screen because that would be weird.

She remembers the heat of his chest where he had stood behind her to lean down so their faces were level, the hand he rested on her shoulder to steady himself and the way his fingers had brushed against her neck in the lightest caress.

She hands the phone over to Lysandra and wants to pull it back almost immediately.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed or whatever, even if they think it’s a bad idea they’d let her down gently, it's just that their opinion matters to her a lot. And while they haven’t exactly approved of her string of random hookups in the years since Sam, they’ve never tried to comment on it other than to check she’s in a good place with it, but she knows they’re waiting for the next person she sees seriously.

There’s a fairly large part of her that thinks her first relationship since Sam shouldn’t be with her boss. And that fucks her up a bit, because since when was she considering a relationship with him?

“Oh yeah,” Lysandra says, scaring away the intrusive thought and raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “He’s hot alright.”

Aedion nods along, peering over Lysandra’s shoulder. Lysandra’s eyes are far too knowing when she looks back up at Aelin and passes the phone over. She doesn’t say a word before locking the phone and sliding it back into her pocket.

“You’ll have to invite us to set sometime.” Lysandra is sneaky but not subtle.

“I will,” she agrees.

The next week flies by, she shoots every single day but one, and she’s far too exhausted each night to do anything other than scrounge up a measly meal that can be pulled together from her cupboard basics and the limited vegetables in her fridge before falling straight asleep. They’ve made good progress so far, and she knows it's going to be good, but she’s tired.

She’s seen a lot more of the process outside of her own character by now too, and she’s amazed, but not surprised, when she persuades one of the crew to let her watch back one of Fenrys’ solo scenes from the previous week. He’s a phenomenal actor, that much is clear, but she had allowed herself to get caught up in Fenrys as her friend, the happy and funny guy she spends her time with, forgetting the talented and driven lead actor of their movie.

Not that she can forget it in the scenes they share, but she’s mostly concentrating on the emotions her character is going through, and responding to what Fenrys gives her. It almost feels too natural for him, and she forgets that it takes work.

His text meets her at lunchtime on the Sunday they both have off, when she’s still in her pyjamas on the couch, debating whether to start a new series or watch the latest cheesy rom-com that Netflix has released.

She auditioned for one of them a couple of years ago, and she’s far enough past the bitterness that comes with not getting the role that she could enjoy it. Maybe a little, cynical part of herself thinks she’s glad she didn’t get it. What she has now is far better. She’s being a snob, but she straight up doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone else is here to judge her.

Fancy coming to Rowan’s to watch the game? I’m leaving in 20 his text reads.

She didn’t plan on doing anything today, but the invitation sparks something in her, and she’s never been to Rowan’s place before. The studio put him in a house about thirty minutes from set, and she’s curious. How much luxury does the big name director get compared to what she and Fenrys have got? She’s lucky really, that Dorian managed to negotiate the same for her as they offered Fenrys.

rowan’s??? She replies, followed by what game????

She gets up off the couch, putting the lid on the tub of yoghurt she was tucking into with a spoon and walking through to the kitchen to throw it back into the fridge.

Tall, grumpy guy that bosses us around all the time comes through a minute later and she grins at her phone at the description. It’s followed up by Ravens v Panthers.

She taps out, getting changed will be ready in 15 and he replies with three smiling emojis.

She doesn’t think it will be anything fancy if her impromptu invitation is anything to go by so she only swaps her pyjama bottoms with tiny cartoon sheep down the legs for a pair of black leggings and throws a sweatshirt over her oversized t-shirt.

Manon is there when they get there, sprawled across the two seater sofa at the far side of Rowan’s living room, and she gives them both a wave when they enter the room. The house is a pretty modest, two-up two-down in a sweet neighbourhood and it’s cosy inside with relatively modern decor. She doesn’t know for sure whether or not that fits Rowan, but she feels like it does.

He doesn’t let them in, Fenrys swings the door open and marches in like it’s his own place and she wonders how much he and Rowan have hung out, or whether that’s just him. Rowan appears in the doorway about a minute after they come in, a bowl of snacks in his hand that she thinks could be popcorn and he puts it down before coming over to wrap Fenrys in a hug. They slap each other on the back in the way that guys do before pulling back.

Aelin stands at Fenrys’ side watching the exchange, unsure whether to greet Rowan or just take a seat, and once they’re done he seems to regard her with the same sort of uncertainty. Fenrys darts around Rowan to throw himself onto the other sofa and she doesn’t give herself long enough to doubt her decision before she opens her arms and steps towards him.

“Hey,” he says simply as he wraps her into a brief hug. “Thanks for coming.”

She wraps her arms around his own broad shoulders, and it feels nice. He’s warm and strong beneath her hands and the way his arms loop around her waist, so far his hands reach back around to her stomach, gets her in a way that she really doesn’t need to think about. It feels really good pressed up against him like that.

“Hey,” she breathes as he pulls back, and she knows he sees the blush on her cheeks. She’s not fifteen, she really needs to sort herself out. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course, make yourself at home.” He gives her another half smile, offering a flash of his straight, white teeth, and again she’s struck by him. That his place is behind the camera is a crime. “I’ve got more snacks and drinks in the kitchen if you want.”

“Beer?” Fenrys asks her, already heading to a door that she assumes leads to the kitchen.

She shakes her head, “do you have sparkling water?” She directs the question to Rowan who nods.

He doesn’t have to speak before Fenrys says “on it,” and leaves the room.

She assesses the seating choices left in the room, there’s a cream two-seater sofa opposite where Manon lies, and that’s probably her best bet, but Rowan has already taken his seat on it, an ankle crossed over a knee as he settles into the cushions. There’s plenty of room to sit by him and not touch, and she weighs it up against having to ask Manon to move.

She’s friendly with the girl, but still feels slightly intimidated by the calculating and sarcastic blonde despite the fact that she’s a few years younger than Aelin herself, so maybe Rowan is the safer choice.

Fenrys comes back into the room just as she takes her seat.

“Move your feet, Blackbeak,” he demands as he hands her a glass of sparkling water, it’s chilled with a couple of cubes of ice and she appreciates it.

Manon lifts her legs for Fenrys to sit, but plops her legs back down across his lap immediately and sticks her tongue out at him as she does. Aelin feels herself smile at the display, and the fact that she’s included in this circle of friends. She hasn’t really made an effort with anyone new since Sam, the only people she’s really spoken to are Elide, Lysandra and Aedion, and they were all there for her before Sam. It feels really damn good.

She really, really, doesn’t understand the rules of football, but it’s easy enough to cheer along when the others do and laugh at their outrage when something doesn’t go their way. It’s the most animated she’s seen Rowan so far, and she’s not quite sure which way their allegiances lie, but it’s probably with the Ravens being in Rifthold and all, and she knows her own is.

Everytime Aedion gets the ball or is shown on screen she can’t hold back the cheers. She’s proud of him and she knows how hard he works to be as good as he is, and even knowing as little as she does, it's special to watch him excel.

Rowan and Fenrys both seem a little starstruck that he’s her cousin, to her he’s just Aedion and they’re the real, scary celebrities, but they gush about him like starstruck little boys.

“And you were at his house last weekend?” Fenrys cries, almost outraged that this is the first he’s ever heard of it, but honestly? They’re both Ashryvers; it’s not like it's a secret.

“Yes,” she laughs. “He’s basically like my brother.”

“Gods, Aelin.” He sounds almost pained that she hasn’t brought this up before. “You've been holding out on us! Please give me his number or introduce me or something.”

“Sorry.” She laughs again and throws a smile to Rowan that he returns with another quirk of his lips. “Invite me earlier next time and I’ll ask him to sort a box for us at the stadium.”

“Seriously?” Even Rowan sounds awed now.

“Yeah, just let me know,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

It really wouldn't be, Aedion has been telling her for years to invite any friends she wants to games, she would just need some friends outside of him, Lysandra and Elide first.

“It’s definitely a big deal,” he says, watching her with a smirk still playing on his lips.

She shrugs. “Just make sure you text me early next time.”

“Oh, I will,” he says, and she has to look away from him. The way his voice curves around the words, all low and intense, is definitely about more than just the game.

She tries to pass it off as just looking to where Fenrys is cheering loudly at the next play, but Manon is there again, looking at her with such a knowing expression that she immediately focuses back on the TV.

At half time she needs to use the bathroom and Rowan gives her a quick rundown of the layout of the house. She’s quick to do her thing and runs by the kitchen afterwards to grab a refill of her drink and find something to eat.

Rowan had told them all to help themselves, explaining that he felt they had as much right as he to poke through the cupboards in the only just filled rental property and she gets it. The places the studio rent out for them are nice enough, and she’s more than grateful that they do, but it’s never quite home. Even if her home is somewhat impersonal, it’s still home.

She’s on her tiptoes, scanning through the relatively well stocked cupboards on the hunt for anything chocolate, when someone enters the kitchen behind her.

“I know I said help yourselves, but you’re going to eat me out of house and home at this rate.”

It’s Rowan, and he leans against the doorframe as he watches her startle and spin to face him, his legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his chest. The pose highlights his powerful arms that she wants to be wrapped up in again and he looks really good in the dim lighting of the kitchen. It bounces off the lines of his tattoo, shining and highlighting the swirls that she can barely look away. She wants to ask what it means.

Aelin scoffs and pushes the cupboard door shut gently, they’re not eating that much and if they are it’s definitely not her, Fenrys and Manon are another story.

“There’s nothing stopping you from kicking us all out,” she says and he laughs, shaking his head.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze picking her apart by the second before he says “maybe not all of you.”

His words and the way he shifts in the doorway as his eyes run her up and down gives her the confidence to bite her lip and look up at him through her lashes. He pushes off the door frame and comes to lean against the counter by her side.

He opens a cupboard door on her other side and rummages through a shelf before handing her a foil packet.

“I have a feeling this is what you were after.”

She accepts the chocolate and tucks it onto the counter at her side as she mirrors him and leans against it too.

“Unsurprisingly, you’d be correct.”

He presses his lips together before his lips twist again, it’s the same expression from before that she knows means he wants to smile but he can’t quite commit, and she feels her body loosen like she wants to lean forward to press into him. She doesn’t though.

What she does instead is take a sharp breath and a step back. “Thanks.” She waves the bar of chocolate in the air before stepping around him and making her way back into the living room, forcing her steps to seem calm and collected as she feels his gaze heavy on her back.

“Anytime.” His words follow her out of the room, they’re a promise.

Luckily, Fenrys and Manon both ignore it when Rowan follows her and retakes his place next to her.

[cosmiclatte28]

Casual Intimacy (Mark Lee x you)

a/n : it’s my soft hours I guess? I made this sweet Mark Lee imagine (well for me this is sweet. I want a boy like this... if you’re that kind of man dm me 😜)

fluff, no warning, no suggestive content but kisses, and just Mark being a wonderful man for you. 

Happy Imagining Mark Lee as your s/o! 

People often ask you how you can hold on to your “plain” relationship with your current boyfriend. You seriously do not like them bothering you about your relationship life, but you need to deal with it considering the fact that the man you are dating is the famous Mark Lee of NCT.

He is dorky in camera, and in real life too. You pray day and night to the angels to make sure Mark is not tripping on some random stone or bump a pole. Guess your prayer works, when you see Mark always smiling in front of the camera coping up and working so hard with his endless job.

You yourself work in a famous two Michelin restaurant in Seoul. You’re not going to lie, you met Mark lee on your duty. NCT was holding their debut birthday and you were appointed as the chef to cook for their meal that night. Apparently, Mark Lee was super fascinated by your dish and he requested you to come greet the team when your job in the kitchen is done. Your head cook lets you leave your station once desert is prepared and the plates coming into the washing room is clean.

That was five years ago, Mark Lee got love struck by your simple but attractive persona. His eyes couldn’t leave you as you answer their questions on the dishes and you congratulating them. They’re glad when they learn that you listened to their songs and followed their schedules, just that you don’t have much time to be like the other wonderful fans.

Mark Lee looked so intrigued on you and as you bow to them bidding goodbye, he just returned from the restroom. With his long legs trying to catch his other brothers, Mark happened to slip his number on a piece of tissue paper to your pocket and gave you a genuine smile plus a “thank you”.

You earned a good pay that night and even better, Mark Lee’s number.

Well, he isn’t your bias but come on who doesn’t have Mark Lee in their bias list? Want it or not, conscious or not, Mark Lee is always in the list. So, that night when you finish showering and eating a light midnight snack, you gave the number a shot.

You thought your message will never be replied, maybe Mark will have his phone in silent and only opened up messages from his contact list. You’re lucky when your notification bleeped and from that night both of you learn more about each other.

He kept your number under your name, plain business people say, you also thought maybe he wanted to call you for another dinner party. But the chats he had been sending was far from platonic business. It involves jokes, puns, memories of living in Canada (well you graduated from University of Toronto, but cooking is your passion), and even deeper like late night talks.

The relationship got deeper when Mark Lee called you one night, asking if he can meet you in the restaurant. He said he needed a good meal to write a song he was assigned for. You found no correlation between a good meal and writing a song, but believe it or not, Mark Lee came with one  of the hottest selling song that month. Earning him a title of “King of Lyrics”

Since then, he called you again and again when he didn’t have the idea to write. You finally invited him over to your house when you got closer. Mark got to eat in your small dining table with a simple dish that was made with love and care that Mark said tasted better than any other dishes he ever had.

You laughed saying he is exaggerating, but Mark never exaggerates when he is with you.

“Be my girlfriend will you?” he one night asked after you teach him how to cook a proper egg. Despite him succeeding the challenge back in 2020, he still needs practice. He succeeded cooking eggs after knowing you for more than a year.

“Suddenly Mark? After you can make a perfect runny egg?” you giggle but nevertheless nodded your head.

His smile that night was even brighter than when he received any awards and praises. His eyes spark joys and emotions uncaptured by cameras. The world never knows how Mark’s true happy face looks like, but if his world is you, then the world knows!

For the first two year of dating, both of you are keeping it low. Dates happen in your house (your wage is enough to buy you a house). You always cook him foods, tried new dishes to him, earned a lot of complains on how the food is not “suitable for Korean tongue” which you always shrug off because he himself is a mix.

But thanks to his constant brave inputs, your dishes are perfectly blended and well known. News media and TV shows started to cast you in their weekend shows. You were offered a contract of a cooking show in a known broadcasting company.

Mark told you to go for it. He knew how happy you are about cooking, and his faith told him “if that is what was given for you, go for it.”

He was right. The internet loves you, they love your simple but tasty dishes. Your show was ranked the hottest that month, famous for helping college student eat a more delicious food.

NCT even did a special relay cam for it, each group were doing a challenge on following your recipes.

Mark was caught off guard on that live shooting day. His team consisted of him, Ten and Johnny.

And you may guess, things went wrong but in a chaotic fun way. When the three of them are together, they just speak in English and forgot all of the filters they should have.

Mark spilled his relationship when he accidentally said out loud “Of course I know how to do that, my girl has been teaching me that.” Mark boasted when Ten asked if Mark could make the egg benedict for their dish.

Johnny and Ten froze on screen, well the NCT members knew your relationship with Mark but they kept quiet. Mark realized what he has said was recorded and forever lives in the web. The comment section went wild and the fans are thrilled about the “mysterious girlfriend Mark has”.

He eventually spilled the truth on a press conference. You were there beside him when he faced the board director and when he sit in front of different mics and cameras flashes. No one knows but throughout the time, when your heart is beating faster than when you took your SAT and final tests, Mark Lee held on to your hand whenever you are answering a question directed to you.

The magazines are taking the favor of the rising topic, inviting you and Mark to take a photoshoot. When you were insecure about taking a picture with him (who has did countless shoots), he squeezed your arm when walking past you and gave a small proud smile as he went to change clothes while you start your personal shoot. No one saw that, but his quick reassuring squeeze boosted your confidence that day and the couple shoot was very nice! You could print that as your wedding pictures!

When the internet goes wild when they connect the theories and Instagram posts Mark and you both made (fans are the best in deciphering codes!), you now walk through the streets crowded by fans. All asking how is it like to date Mark, but not few also told you to screw off. One day when you both are going back to Canada for a winter break, the fans are crowding the way. You gulped when you have to walk pass them, but Mark looked so used to it. He just chuckled and landed a small hand on the back of your waist. With the manager hyung and bodyguard pushing to make way, you made it through the crowd with confident steps.

On the Christmas dinner, Mark was invited to your family dinner and vice versa. You had to attend their family lunch and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

“Mark, what if they don’t like me?” you asked on your bus ride to his house from the airport.

Mark laughed, he always laughed as his first respond, “Baby, it’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

You snorted, “You calling me baby is already suspicious, for three years we dated you “dude” me 70% of the time, “baby” was only like 10%”

He did the math, “Then what’s the remaining 20?%”

“You just call me “Bro” for the res of them.” You squeezed his cheek and planted a kiss there.

“I like it though, not too cheesy.”

He grew red. “Gosh I am having the Jaehyun syndrome. Why are my ears burning?!”

He was not 100% wrong, his parents were nice they grew fond of you especially when you helped his mother prepared lunch. Well you both arrived earlier and you decided to give a hand for the busy mom.

Mark sat next to you on dinner and when you were diving into a yummy Christmas pudding, his parents began asking you the “platonic questions asked to your partner”.

You almost chocked on your pudding when they asked “Are you seeing a future with Mark? Can you make our son happy and us too?”

You were not ready, you expected questions like where you work or where you live. They said “We can find all that answers in the internet, but not the answer to our question.”

Mark’s gentle kick from under the table by your side made you looked at him and he gave you that sincere smile only you have the privilege to see. He nodded slightly and shot his eyebrow to his parents side “Answer them… I am also curious of the answer.”

You grew red, it wasn’t the drink or anything, but his parent’s happy and relieved face when you nod your head and said “I am seeing a future with him, if I get both of your blessing.”

They love you and Mark was right. That night, you invited his family to join your dinner instead. The same question was asked from your parents to Mark and Mark was more than ready to marry you.

But your wedding bells did not chime that fast. He has his career and so do you, both of you just keep the stable relationship going on. Together facing the problems and obstacles in your relationship. Fights occur, bickering occur, threads of breaking up also happened once or twice… but both of you used that to build a stronger bond.

You always melt when Mark came home from a long day. After he showered and savored his dinner, he always ended up leaning on your shoulder in the big snuggle sofa both of you never regret buying. His head on your shoulder, his hand scribbling words to a paper and you whispering ideas to him which brought a big smile to his face.

Writing lyrics has been even easier for Mark, he blended your frustration with his, splattered some love words, and voila a masterpiece! People said his lyrics were relatable and both of you always keep it to yourself that “those happened in our life, no wonder it looked real.”

He always kissed you gently on your lips, tasting the faint cherry flavour of your lip balm. Mark’s lips tasted of medical lip balm, but you love it nonetheless.

You blinked and realized the flashing cameras in front of you. Oh right, someone from the hot magazine company is asking you a question.

‘Can you please repeat your question?” you asked politely to the lady holding out a mic.

She quickly nodded, “A lot of fans are wondering If you are still in a relationship with Mark. Mark was busy for the last months with projects and comebacks. And the interaction update from both of you are little to none. Fans suspected you were over with him, considering that Mark looked like he is the “plain” type in a relationship.”

You pressed a smile, hiding your urge to laugh out loud. Weren’t the fans always picturing Mark as their dream boyfriend? Why did they judge him as the plain boring type then?

You clear your throat and while looking through the crowds, you spot Mark Lee seated in the crowd with a mask and a hat, giving you a nod, and you turned your mic on.

“We’re still going strong; well I think love is not the type of grand gestures or explosive displays.” You started off and caught everyone’s attention.

“It’s made up of little things,” you felt your heart clench upon remembering all the small affections Mark always did to you. “It’s the little things Mark Lee did that say he is here, and he cared for me and that my life has intertwined so deeply into his that there was no need to think.” You take a pause to look at the audience.

Everyone looked impressed, but amongst them you catch one pair of gleaming proud eyes, the pair of eyes you’ve been waking up to for the last years, and the one you want to wake up to in the future years.

“It’s Mark’s casual intimacy that made us both stay strong and stronger.”

Applaud was heard through the room, you were holding your press conference because you were retreating from all the cooking shows and rumor has it you are going to marry Mark.

“Please pray for both of us, as we will be tying our bonds soon.” You leave the room after a bow and the man with mask and hat is already waiting for you outside the big crowded function hall.

His hand naturally makes its way to your waist and you never felt more sure to step into life with this man you love, Mark Lee.

“That was wonderful (y/n)~”

You smile, he did not dude you nor bro you nor baby you. “I love you Mark Lee,”

He leaned in for a peck behind the tinted black van window, “I love you most (y/n) Lee,” he winked and you rubbed your cheeks “Guess I have the Jaehyun syndrome now! Also I like it when you call me with that name.”

He quirked his eyebrow and smirked, “Don’t worry, you’ll be hearing that soon for the rest of your life.” He reached for your hand and kissed the knuckles.

“I met you thanks to your amazing handy work in cooking unforgettable dish.”

You rolled your eyes, “You were so amazed on my egg benedict Mark! How is that an unforgettable dish?”

He shrugged his shoulder, “I don’t know, something about you, cooking, and love made me this love struck and awfully amazed by simple things you did.”

the end

thanks for reading, put in comments for I’d love to interact with you on the story plot .. rant to me what you hate or like idc :D i want to talk with my readers! to thank you all for reading and spending some time here

omg i didn’t know if I made the right choice of making Mark Lee as this character, but I want it to be him.. I’ve been writing a lot of Jaehyun and Yuta fic and I guess Mark can be a refresher. Please let me know if someone else suits this better!

[inkedinfantasy]

FFXIVWrite #24: Vicissitudes

N’mhaya finds a soul crystal and makes a choice.

Read on AO3 here.

N’mhaya stared down at the body in front of her.

The sight was almost unassuming, given the impassioned, overwrought description of the supposed “dark knight” she’d received from the man outside the Tribunal, though that was hardly unexpected in her experience with Ishgardian citizens of a certain station. A great deal of fretting, typically followed up with the demand that she do something about whatever was vexing them. The brusque, callous dismissal of the ill-fated heretic she’d seen from the two Temple Knights indicated there was little she could do at this point, aside from arranging for a more dignified internment and pursuing a formal censuring of the knights in charge of taking care of the body.

A dull glint in the morning’s weak sunlight caught her eye. A small, dark soul crystal lay on the ground next to the body, apparently dropped as they were being so unceremoniously deposited. It could at least be something that could potentially identify them, or perhaps some small token for any family they may still have. 

Unthinking, she reached for it.

The wave of dizziness hit her out of nowhere, and she swayed violently, nearly collapsing onto the stone. She heard something, a voice, and then a raw, horrible sensation like something scraping itself away from her very soul.

The darkness took her.

                                                             * * *

    N’mhaya regained consciousness to see someone standing over her. She instinctively flinched away.

    “I’ve been waiting for you to open your eyes. You all right?” they asked, unbothered.

    She got to her feet, taking a moment to get her bearings. Looking again, she realized the person standing over her was the body she’d been contemplating, and a fresh wave of disgust filled her. The Temple Knights she’d seen needed to be censured not only for their disrespectful treatment of a body, but also for apparently failing in the simple task of ensuring said body was actually dead. 

They folded their arms, uncowed by her silence. “Name’s Fray, by the way. And no, I’m not a heretic. Try convincing a Temple Knight drunk on authority of that, eh? Shame the pompous arse got the better of me.”

N’mhaya finally gathered herself enough to speak. “Yes, I apologize. The way the situation was handled was…unacceptable. I promise you I will find their commander and ensure they are properly disciplined.”

Fray waved their hand, dismissive and almost irritated. “But how about you? You touched it, yes? That couldn’t have felt good.”

“Touched it? You mean your soul crystal?”

Before Fray could answer, a shout rang out, someone calling for help down further into the Brume.

N’mhaya moved, hand already on her lance, but found her path blocked by Fray’s greatsword. “Not so fast. We need to talk about what’s happening to you—what’s growing within you, before you get carried away.”

N’mhaya scoffed incredulously. “What’s happening to me? All I did was touch your crystal. Nothing is happening to me.”

“And that was more than enough. There’s a darkness within us all, you see—nothing dangerous, mind. In fact, it’s quite healthy. But the crystal changes you—gives you the power to channel it.” She startled backwards as Fray’s eyes suddenly glowed red behind their mask. “Do it without proper training, however, and…well…it might hurt.”

She bristled, gripping her lance more firmly. “Are you threatening me?”

The glow faded, and Fray relaxed their stance. “Not at all. Merely stating a fact. So go ahead—ask me to teach you. Ask me to instruct you in the ways of dark knights, and I will.”

“You are presuming an awful lot. I’m truly sorry for what happened to you, but I have my duty to think of.” She stared at them pointedly. “Duty which presently calls me elsewhere.”

She stepped forward cautiously, but Fray made no further move to stop her. When she was almost past them, however, they spoke again.

“And what of the times when wealth or noble titles leave your duty unfulfilled?”

She stopped.

“We dark knights don’t care one whit for prestige or pedigree. We are free to follow our hearts—to defend the weak and punish the guilty as we see fit.” She could hear the sound of Fray’s boots on the stone as they stepped closer. “The law of the land? The authority of a name? These are tools cowards use to escape harm.”

It was…unsettling, how easily they seemed to read her. As if they knew precisely what to say to get her to hear them out.

“Suppose I took you up on your offer. What exactly would that entail?” she asked.

“The threshold we refuse to cross is a line we draw for ourselves. We fear the consequences, and people suffer for our indecision. Everyone who held that crystal came to conquer that fear, and became who they wanted to be.” N’mhaya turned back to face Fray, who was still watching her intently. “That is what I would ask of you. That is what the path demands.”

N’mhaya closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and made her choice. “Very well, then. Where do we start?”

[passable-talent]

part 4 was so so good!!!!! can you make a part 5? i’m in love with your writing and that series!!! you’re feeding my need for zuko content and i love u for that.

it literally took exactly 19 minutes to get a request for part 5

THANK U THO SHDBCNDGS IM HAPPY YOURE ENJOYING WHAT I DO

been excited to get back to this one, y’all aren’t ready 😏

OKAY I SAID YALL WERENT READY BEFORE I EVEN WROTE IT BUT NOW IVE WRITTEN IT AND LET ME FUCKING REITERATE: YALL ARE NOT F U C K I N G R E A D Y

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 |

For chapter five, and my five hundred follower special, we will go back to spring of the year 100 AG, right before Azula’s coup succeeded in their destruction of Ba Sing Se . . .

“So what’s happening?” You asked Mushi as the two of you hurried through the streets of the upper ring.

“Come close,” Mushi answered, and your footsteps brought you beside him.

“My nephew and I are more than refugees,” he began, “my name is Iroh, and I am the brother of the Fire Lord. My nephew, Zuko, is the banished prince of the Fire Nation. I’m sorry we lied to you, but we needed to, in order to stay in Ba Sing Se where we were safe from our family.” Your head reeled, but you kept beside him, because still you trusted this man. You were trained to react and to think, thanks to the Dai Li, so you analyzed his words.

“Were?” you questioned, wondering why he seemed to suggest that he was no longer safe.

“My niece, Princess Azula, has infiltrated the city. She tried to capture me- she did capture Zuko.” Your eyes widened, and your speed increased beside Iroh. “I need your help to retrieve him, and the Avatar’s. That’s where we’re headed.” You looked up at the house you were approaching, half caved in from some sort of destruction. What had happened here?

“The Avatar?” you asked, and Iroh nodded, pausing in front of the door to knock politely. You waited beside him, but held your forehead- you were so shocked about everything you were finding out.

Zuko- not Lee. The banished prince of the Fire Nation. You hadn’t even known that the prince of the Fire Nation had been banished! What else didn’t you know about the other nations of the world beyond the walls of Ba Sing Se?

Why had this information been kept from you? You were training to be in the Dai Li, one of the best and most important police forces of the Earth Kingdom, shouldn’t this information be privy to you? Why wasn’t it?

You were pulled from your thoughts as a girl opened the door, and regarded Iroh with friendliness.

“I need your help,” he began, and you watched the reactions of the other two at the door. They seemed frightened by Iroh- what kind of history had they that you weren’t aware of?

Why were you kept in the dark about everything?

“You guys know each other?” demanded the boy you had to assume was the avatar, who didn’t seem much concerned with your presence. Maybe it was the earth kingdom robes?

“I met him in the woods once, and knocked him down,” answered the girl, and with her gaze that didn’t seem focused on the avatar you wondered if maybe she was blind. She, however, seemed like a strong earthbender. It was one of the things you were trained to pick up on in the Dai Li, and relied entirely on how a person carried herself. “Then he gave me tea and some very good advice.”

“May we come in?” Iroh asked sheepishly, and you wondered why there wasn’t more urgency to his tone.

“Who’s your friend?” the clearly water tribe boy demanded, and you lifted your chin, being acknowledged.

“I’m Y/N, a soon-to-be member of the Dai Li,” you answered, “You can trust me.”

“The Dai Li?” Avatar Aang responded, more shock in his face than before.

“That makes us even less likely to trust you!!” the water tribe boy shouted, and your eyebrows knitted together.

“The Dai Li are the protectors of the city!” you said, though you felt doubt gnaw at your spine- they had kept so much from you, their own cadet.

Iroh turned his eyes to you, and something in his gaze told you to hush up.

“Princess Azula is here, in Ba Sing Se,” Iroh told them, his tone stern and serious.

“She must have Katara!” Aang said, and you looked to Iroh. You didn’t know these people- but that Azula would capture both Zuko and a friend of the avatar meant that she was one of two things: insanely brave or insanely stupid.

“She has captured my nephew, as well,” Iroh said.

“Then we’ll work together to fight Azula, and save Katara and Zuko,” the avatar said, and you felt a little lightness crawl into your heart. You’d be able to help save Zuko, and a friend of the avatar? You were about to go on a crazy adventure.

“Whoa there,” said the water tribe boy, walking back into the conversation, “you lost me at ‘Zuko.’ “

“I know how you must feel about my nephew,” Iroh began, and your expression softened. There was definitely history here, and you’d be interested to learn it. “But believe me when I tell you, there is good inside him.” You brought your eyes to the avatar’s, and nodded, trying to fathom something to say that they’d believe. They didn’t know you, didn’t know what you stood for, and it seemed that you didn’t know much of that yourself.

“I’ve known Zuko for a while,” you said, “and he’s never been anything other than a scared and polite refugee.”

“Good inside him isn’t enough!” The water tribe boy insisted, “Why don’t you come back when it’s outside him too, okay?” Your chest deflated further, and you had to wonder: what had Zuko done, what had Zuko been, that they had this strong of a hatred for him?

Did you want to know?

“Katara’s in trouble,” Aang said to his friend, “All of Ba Sing Se’s in trouble. Working together is our best chance.”

On the way toward the catacombs of the city underneath the palace, you learned Sokka and Toph’s names, as well as the true treachery of the Dai Lee. You learned about the war with the Fire Nation, and had a smile on your face as you took in how lucky you were that the two firebenders whom you had come to love were the only two on the right side of this war.

“Well, whaddaya know, there is an ancient city down there,” Toph said, her hand pressed to the stone courtyard, “but it’s deep.” She opened up a large hole in the stone, heading downward.

“How can you tell?” You asked, and she cracked her knuckles in your direction.

“Right, you’re classically trained,” she mocked with a rude laugh, which made you smile. “I can sense seismic activity through stone. Maybe I’ll teach you, when this is over.” You nodded, intrigued, before Sokka grabbed your attention.

“We should split up. Aang, you go with Iroh and Y/N to look for Katara and the angry jerk,” he said. “No offense,” he added in Iroh’s direction, and once again you found yourself confused on the nature of their shared past when Iroh said “none taken.”

“And I’ll go with Toph to warn the Earth King about Azula’s Coup.”

Aang, Iroh, and you began heading down into the tunnel, Iroh holding up fire for light while you and Aang took turns lengthening the tunnel downwards.

“So, Toph thinks you give pretty good advice,” Aang said, seeming to try to make conversation. “And great tea.” A smile came to your face- Iroh’s tea was the reason that you were, apparently, romantically involved with the prince of the Fire Nation.

Imagine that.

“The key to both is proper aging,” Iroh said, and you laughed under your breath. “What’s on your mind?” Aang paused, and took his turn lengthening the tunnel.

“Well, I met with this guru who was supposed to help me master the avatar state and control this great power.” You turned to look at the avatar as you walked, amazed at both his story and his mere stature. You never thought that you’d get to meet the avatar.

“But to do it, I had to let go of someone I love, and I just couldn’t.” You reached the end of the tunnel, and took stance beside Iroh to take your turn lengthening it. However, Iroh began speaking, and you figured it rude to interrupt him.

“Perfection and power are overrated. I think you are very wise to choose happiness, and love.” With a smile on your face you earthbent and opened up the tunnel further, deciding then and there that you would stick with Iroh. Surely you weren’t to stay and train with the Dai Li, and as it seemed he was teaming up with the avatar, maybe you’d get to help fight in the war!

“But what happens if we can’t save everyone and beat Azula?” You didn’t answer, and let Iroh, both because you didn’t know the answer, and because you felt that the scope of your knowledge and importance wasn’t what it needed to be to even participate in this conversation.

“Without the avatar state, what if I’m not powerful enough?”

“I don’t know the answer,” Iroh said, making you gaze to the side at him. “Sometimes life is like this dark tunnel. You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving...” Iroh paused as Aang took his turn to break through the stone in front of you, revealing light and a wide open new space, “...you will come to a better place.” You paused, standing on the edge of a cliff, to look out over the ancient city. There was a fountain in front of you, making the air smell fresh even though you were so far below ground. It was amazing, and part of you wished you could have stayed. However, you knew that there was much more pressing matters, and so you quickly moved along with Iroh and Aang into another chamber to hopefully find the prisoners you were looking for.

Aang burst through another wall of stone, and quickly disappeared through the hole as you and Iroh followed.

“Aang!” A girl shouted before embracing him, and you barely put it together that this must be ‘Katara’ before your feet had carried you to Zuko, and hugged him tightly. You yielded this, however, to Iroh, who hugged him with just as much relief as you felt in your heart.

“Uncle, I don’t understand,” Zuko said, a malice you didn’t recognize glinting in his eyes. “What are you doing with the avatar?”

“Saving you, that’s what,” Aang said, and Zuko began to lunge before Iroh caught his chest. You flinched- this wasn’t the boy you knew at all.

“Zuko, it’s time we talked,” Iroh told him, then looking at Aang and Katara. “Go help your other friends. We’ll catch up with you.” Aang and Katara turned away while you stood still, but Iroh turned to you. “You as well. It’ll be alright.” You nodded, and raced down the tunnel after Katara.

“We’ve gotta find Sokka and Toph!” Katara shouted, but you couldn’t answer her before you heard roaring behind you. You didn’t recognize the sound, but when you turned and saw blue fire, nothing could’ve prepared you.

This wasn’t in your training. It wasn’t in your index of attacks to react to. You had no idea what to do- if it wasn’t for Aang and the wall that he raised, you would’ve surely been charred on the spot.

You didn’t recognize the girl that had shot it, but you felt that it was safe to assume it must’ve been Azula.

Katara raced around the wall and picked up water, revealing herself as a powerful water bender before your eyes. The fight between her and Azula created a cloud of steam, and you staggered back even further from Aang’s wall, your chest rising and falling quickly.

You were panicking.

All of that training, everything that your instructors had ever done to harden your will and sharpen your reaction time, it stood nothing against this. This, with the sister of the guy you were crushing on shooting blue fire at the avatar, and you weren’t even sure who’s side you should be on.

That was stupid, of course you knew you should be on the avatar’s side. But something in your head whispered doubts- she was Zuko’s sister. She was the leader of the Dai Li, who you belonged to.

Azula appeared from the steam and shot two fireballs at Aang and Katara, who were forty or so feet in front of you. You just watched, dumbfounded, and realized quickly that she wasn’t aiming at you. She wasn’t targeting you at all.

She landed on a column, which Aang rocked beneath her, and she fell down to stand between Aang and Katara, her back to you. She kept her hands pointed at both of them, but suddenly, her attention turned toward you.

“You’re Y/N, right?” She asked, and your eyes widened. “I remember you. You’re a very impressive cadet, you could be an asset to me. I control the Dai Li, now, and so your allegiance is to me.”

Just for a moment, Katara’s gaze turned to you, wondering if there was any truth to that statement.

Was there?

A fireball impacted the ground between Aang and Azula and you staggered backward, looking up for the source of the flame.

Zuko. Relief filled your chest- at least you knew for sure you were on his side.

As though time was frozen, you watched as he turned his ready stance from aiming at Aang, to aiming at Azula, and your tension melted away. You could fight beside Zuko and the avatar and Katara, and surely between the four of you the princess would be defeated.

Then, from your position fifty feet behind Aang, you saw Zuko’s eyes land on the avatar.

The calmness drifted away, and all you saw was rage.

Fire blasted toward Aang, and he couldn’t avoid the plume, his air bending keeping him from harm but also sending him back beside you. Zuko’s fire kept coming, and you threw up a wall in front of you, turning to the side with your body made into a smaller target out of pure fear.

Zuko had turned on Aang. He’d shot fire at Aang- he’d shot fire at you.

Aang leapt away to continue his battle, which left you behind your wall of stone, paralyzed with fear and indecision and betrayal and anger and sadness.

Didn’t you know Zuko at all? That look in his eye... you had never seen that before. There was pure rage inside him, and you couldn’t understand it, you couldn’t comprehend how this was the boy you’d cared for.

You heard fire roaring throughout the cave, and the whooshing of the wind that Aang sent back. Rocks clattered to the floor and water shot around the cavern, and it was all too much, the sounds of martial arts and groaning and impacts, you couldn’t get a clear thought through your mind.

“I thought you had changed!” Katara’s yell echoed off the rocks, and just for a moment your hands lifted from your temple. Was she talking to Zuko?

“I have changed,” he answered, and it was in the silence that followed that you made up your mind, finally.

Zuko was on the wrong side of this war. Not as you’d thought.

You heard a yelp from Katara and brought up a hunk of earth underneath you, launching you across the cave and into a defensive position in front of her with a battle cry. Both Azula and Zuko seemed surprised by this decision, but before any of you could react, the rumbling of Aang’s reemergence interrupted the fight. They turned their attention to him, which gave you the moment to send a hunk of stone into both of their abdomens, knocking them backward. However, your eyes turned up with the sound of Dai Li stone chains, and you couldn’t pull your limbs in tight enough to avoid their sudden grip on you.

“No,” you snarled as Katara woke, and brought a ring of water around the both of you. You stood back to back with her, small finger movements slowly dissembling the stone chains around your wrists so you could help her in the fight.

But there were too many agents- you knew you couldn’t take them all on. Not even with a master waterbender at your back.

A gust of wind surprised you, and you broke free in time to see Aang rise from shattered crystal inside a beam of light. It was amazing- and you were stunned into awe.

Lightning struck the avatar.

Katara nearly drowned you in the wave she created, but you pulled up a slab of stone just in time to surf on it behind her, just like you had on summer days in Lake Laogai. Mowing down Dai Li agents, and the royal siblings, the two of you raced toward the falling avatar, before he was caught by Katara. Soaked, exhausted, and tears blurring your vision, you stood between her and the siblings, who walked toward her, as though they were predators, and she an easy meal.

Though you knew you should be watching them both, your eyes were on Zuko. Maybe, there was some of Lee left in him, and seeing you would bring it back. But his eyes were firmly on the dead-or-dying avatar, hungry, predatory, and your heart shattered.

Fire cut off their path and you looked up to see Iroh, who leapt down in front of even you.

“You’ve got to get out of here!” He shouted, looking back at you. “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can!” Katara stood and you joined her on Aang’s other side, carrying the avatar toward a waterfall, the sound of fire roaring behind you.

It was terrifying.

“Hold onto him!” Katara shouted, her grip tight on the avatar as she used her other hand to bend an upward spiral around the three of you.

You watched Iroh face Zuko until the rock covered your vision, and you closed your eyes.

Back on Appa, you kneeled behind Sokka, one eye keeping a watch on Katara as she attempted to heal Aang. But mostly, you gripped Appa’s fur, and cried.

The Dai Li had lied to you. Zuko and Iroh had lied to you. The Dia Li turned on you. Zuko turned on you. Zuko turned on Iroh, Azula killed the avatar. Everything was so messed up, beyond proportion, skewed beyond belief. The boy you thought you might’ve loved...

He’d never existed in the first place.

And though the avatar lived, you laid your forehead to the bison’s back, and sobbed.

tag list for this series- @furblrwurblr @eridanuswave

oh yeah request for pt 6 /// already been requested y’all are fine

edit: | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 |

-🦌 Roe

[not-all-dead]

"It’s not a surprise when the Chief of Police comes out. There have been betting pools for years, and the announcement is met with mostly indifference. What is a surprise, however, is the interview that comes out alongside the announcement. The interview that is complete with a photoshoot of Lin Beifong in civilian clothes, talking about the challenges of her position. No one can remember the last time the Chief has given an interview, and the photo becomes the talk of the town."

How do you think the interview goes? What would Lin say?

link to (what i believe was) the original post of this! with some amazing art that VERY much helped me write this :DD (by @mgthejerkbender)

i was originally just gonna write a dialogue or notes for this but uh- i got a little carried away so here’s a 3687 word fic of the interview oops

CW: implications of past trauma (mentions of r@pe/s*xual assa*lt, public humiliation, not graphic at all), homophobia, sexism

fic under the cut :)

Lin walked into the room in a soft green turtleneck and dark brown pants that almost looked black without the light. There was sound equipment set up all over the place, with two armchairs in the middle of it all. A desk sat over to the side, a typewriter and paper sitting atop it. Quite a few people were rushing around, making sure that everything was in place for the broadcast. She watched a young woman sit at the desk, prepping the typewriter to transcribe the entire thing.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Lin turned to see a man in his early forties standing with a small journal behind her.

He wore a plain suit with a pale orange tie, his greying hair slicked back neatly. His eyes flitted around the room, checking things briefly for himself before focusing on Lin. He opened the notebook to a page about a quarter of the way through and smiled at Lin, nodding at the chairs behind her.

“Care to sit?” he asked, moving toward the chairs.

She took the seat farthest from where they’d just been standing, shifting to get comfortable while she waited for him to sit and get things rolling. She didn’t want to admit it, but her heart was racing. She hadn’t done anything like this is ages, especially not so casually. The topic of discussion also made her nervous, both because her job was something she rarely spoke of with anyone outside a professional context, and because of the announcement that would come with the interview. She’d encountered plenty of bigoted people in the past, and had no doubt that her officially coming out would only press them to question her position more than usual.

She picked idly at the fuzzballs on her turtleneck until the man sitting beside her cleared his throat. Her head snapped up to look at him, her body tensing briefly before seeing that he was testing the microphones. She sighed and relaxed slightly, speaking into the microphone placed before her when the sound technician prompted her to do so. Once everything seemed to be in place and ready to go, the broadcast started.

“Welcome, listeners, to tonight’s special program. I’m your host, Kaja Posicopolis, here with our esteemed Chief of Police, Lin Beifong. So, Chief, how are you on this fine night?” he started, putting on his radio voice.

“Good, I’m good,” Lin responded, leaning slightly forwards in her seat.

“That’s good to hear. I think I’ll launch right into our questions if you don’t mind, we’ve got a lot to get through tonight,” Lin nodded when he looked over to her, giving him the go ahead.

“Why don’t we start with something positive. What’s your favourite thing about your position as Chief? What about the job brings you the most joy?” he turned to watch her while waiting for her answer.

She looked at the floor for a moment, thinking before speaking.

“I think I’d have to say getting to help people. Ever since I was young I’ve wanted to protect others as much as possible, and being Chief makes that a lot easier and a lot more… legal,” he joined her when she chuckled lightly, but her smile only lasted a moment.

“Of course, I’m not perfect, and there are always times when things go wrong. I can’t say that those times don’t affect me, but I try to think of the people we as a force have helped over the years and that keeps me going,” she took a deep breath and looked to Kaja as he glanced at his notepad.

“That leads right into my next question; how do you do it? Not even your infamous mother was Chief for as long as you’ve been, and her time was already impressive. You’ve given so much to Republic City already, why, and how, do you keep giving?” there was a look of wonder and admiration on his face when he finished the question.

“I grew up in Republic City. It always has been, and will be, my home. And who doesn’t want to protect their home? I think that as long as I live here, I’ll be working to do anything in my power to help the city. I hate watching neighborhoods suffer… actually, I’m working on a plan with President Moon at the moment with the hopes of helping out the poorer parts of the city, providing homes for the homeless, all that good stuff. I just want to see Republic City thriving, and I want to help it get to that point. As I said before, it’s my home; everyone here is part of a community, a family, if you will, and that means everything to me,” Lin leaned back, resting against the cushion behind her, setting her right foot on her left knee.

“That’s a beautiful sentiment, thank you. I love the idea of the city being one big family, and that project sounds like it’ll be very good for the future of Republic City,” Kaja turned his gaze back to his notes, stopping the conversation briefly.

“The next question I have here is less uppity; what has your biggest struggle been with regards to your job?”

“That’s a hard one,” she paused. “I’ve had many struggles with work over my years as Chief, but I think of everything that’s happened… being a woman, and a queer one at that, has definetly taken it’s toll. Other things have been more directly challenging, but that’s been present since day one.”

“Would you care to elaborate on that?” he prompted leaning slightly towards her.

She inhaled and held her breath for a split second before sighing lightly.

“Sure, why not,” she gave a small smile to Kaja before starting.

“When I was much younger, just starting out in the force, I could already see the inherent bias against women that so many male officers held. My mother wasn’t immune to their verbal attacks, though she would give them a good… sparring match, lets say, if they ever so much as laid a finger on her. After a few times, that generally stopped happening, but people would still talk. The number of disgusting, awful things I heard coming from some of those men…” she huffed and shifted in her seat, putting one elbow on her armrest and resting her head on her hand.

“Anyway, I started to pay attention to every little thing. I noticed how many male politicians talked down to my mother, and not because of her blindness. Even a few of the men on our own council at the time would treat her as less-than for no apparent reason.

“I saw it happening in my own life and career, too. How my male counterparts got the promotion before I was even considered, despite performing just as well as them, if not better. How I was never asked for input on supposedly collective decisions or plans, and if I was or tried to interject, I was almost always dismissed. It seemed like any man of higher or equal rank to me thought I was some… assistant to bring him coffee and reports and not do any actual work.

“Seeing that attitude so often pissed me off. I made it my mission to prove myself beyond what was necessary. I wanted to show them that I could do anything they could just as well, sometimes even better. My work paid off eventually and I began to climb the ranks, not letting myself rest for a second. And I wanted to help people as well, of course, but it started out more as wanting to teach those bastards a lesson,” she moved again, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward on her elbows.

“Once I became Chief, a lot of people seemed determined to put me down. Practically every man, be he politician or merchant on the street, told me something insinuating that I was handed the position just because my mother was Chief before me. Every time I wanted to yell at them, to show them records of how hard I’d worked to get there, how much harder I’d had to work than most of my colleagues. With the politicians and other major figureheads, how much harder I’d had to work than they probably had.

“It was frustrating, but I got used to it. It was a constant that came with working a so-called, and I’m not making this up, it’s been said directly to my face before, ‘Man’s job’,” she stopped for a moment and looked over at Kaja, who was staring at her in disbelief.

She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his expression before looking back down and continuing.

“There was also the issue of my queerness,” she shook her head and took a deep breath, sitting back as she continued.

“I started working as a proper officer when I was about eighteen. Within my first year working, I was-,” she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth for a second.

“I had an encounter with a man, an older officer who was overseeing the training group I was a part of. He tried to initiate certain… activities with me, none of which I wanted to partake in. I did manage to get rid of him and filed a report against him, but it wasn’t the last time it happened.

“I was a pretty regular customer at a few of the underground bars for people like me at the time. I did my best to hide my face when I left, but there were always times I was careless, or somebody saw me in the seconds I let my guard down. Usually it was no big deal, but occasionally it was someone from work. Once, it was that man.

“He found me at work the next day and asked me about it. Yelled at me, really. He tried to make it seem like that’s why I’d denied him, and the names he called me weren’t pretty to say the least. He started to physically attack me, throwing punch after punch and not giving me the slightest chance to fight back.

“After that day, I stopped going to those bars altogether. The first time I went back to one was actually just a few years ago. I started dating Tenzin a few years later, and though people weren’t so outwardly expressive of their opinions on my relationships, the disapproval was still present.

“By the time Tenzin and I split up, I think some people still suspected my queerness, but it wasn’t a widely adopted theory. I had my fair share of men approach me, some with better intentions than others, and turned down most of them. Some of them didn’t react all that well, and I ended up filing several more reports. I don’t think any of them actually got charged, though.

“I entertained short romances with some men, some women too. Nothing stuck, not really anyway. I kept every relationship very quiet, including those with men, just for the sake of privacy. When I was with women, it was also to avoid getting hate-crimed, but I really did prefer to keep at least some things private.

“In the context of work, there were also challenges. That first superior to try getting at me like that must’ve talked, telling anyone who would listen about my excursions to the underground bars. People looked at me oddly in just about any shared workspace there was, though a few times I made friends because of it. Those were always good times, even if few and far between.

“Some people just gave a judgemental stare or vaguely rude comment every so often, but a few others took it further. Much further,” she looked up to the ceiling as she recalled another story.

“I had a supervisor when I was probably about, oh, twenty seven or so. He was a few ranks below my mother, and I one below him. He decided that one day it would be absolutely hysterical to cover my desk in obscene printed images of women I didn’t recognize, along with toys of a certain nature. I was mortified when I came in and saw the spectacle. The worst part was that almost everyone working in that part of the building at the time laughed with him, and those who didn’t weren’t exactly helpful.

“I didn’t come back to work for a week after that. It was awful, his stupid prank making me so shamed of who I was, who I loved. I know now that my loving both women and men isn’t a bad thing, and is simply part of me. It was harder to accept that, to accept myself, when I saw people like him in positions of power over me.

“I kept working though, and there was never an incident quite like that one again. A few others were more directly hateful than most, but it was easier to deal with. As with people treating me as less because of my gender, I got used to it,” she turned to Kaja, a hint of guilt on her face after talking for so long.

He shook his head, disbelief still spread across his face. His eyes flitted back and forth between floor tiles as he searched for the right words to respond.

“That sounds awful. I’m so sorry you had to deal with people like that,” he looked back up at Lin.

“So am I,” she scoffed, her fingers picking at her turtleneck again.

There was a small silence before Kaja looked back down at his notepad and then at the clock on the wall.

“We’ve got enough time for one last question, so is there anything you’d like to tell young women and queer people living in the city?” His expression was almost hopeful now, desperate to end off on a lighter note.

Lin smiled in amusement at him before looking down at her hands, fiddling her thumbs in her lap. After a moment, she looked back up at him and started speaking again.

“Absolutely,” she began, her gaze drifting around the room and landing on each individual at least once.

“To all the women working your asses off in the workforce: stand up for yourself. Don’t let any man devalue you because of your gender. Be the best you can be and wipe the smiles clean off their faces as you do it. Start your own businesses, get that promotion, set goals for yourself and fly past them. You can do just about anything you put your mind to, despite what many men might say,” her voice was strong, almost commanding as she began her final statement.

“And to all the young queer people out there; you are so, so strong. Keep loving each other, keep being yourselves. I know how awful people can be, but their opinions do not define you. You are perfect exactly as you are, and nothing can change that. It might seem like it’ll never be true, but I believe we will live in a time when acceptance is the norm. I believe that that time, with hard work and patience with those who need teaching, will be here soon.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much for your time, Chief,” Kaja said, looking at the clock again.

“Thank you for having me,” Lin replied, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“And with that, folks, we wrap up today’s special broadcast. I’ll be back in the studio tomorrow resuming our usual radio program. Until then, I’m Kaja Posicopolis, and this is eighty six point four, your favourite music station,” Kaja finished, staying silent for a few seconds until a man from across the room nodded at him.

He rolled his head around and got up from his chair, setting his notepad down behind him.

“How are you now?” he asked Lin as he stretched his arms out and cracked his back.

Lin scoffed and stood, going through a couple of her own stretches. She straightened her shirt and tucked a few stray hairs back before responding.

“I feel like I just stood naked in front of the entire city,” she said, unable to hold back a small smile when Kaja laughed.

“Well, we’re about to expose you even more. You ready for the photo shoot?” he grabbed his notebook and pen and closed them, watching Lin for an answer.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Lin sighed before following him out of the room.

They walked down several long hallways, eventually coming to a large open room. The walls and floor were a pale grey cement, and there were expensive looking lights set up all over the place. A dark green upholstered bench sat to one side of the room, a tall light shining down on it. A few people saw them coming in and rushed around, turning off almost every other light. One of them knocked on a door that was on the other end of the room, calling for someone inside.

“This seems a bit excessive,” Lin muttered, her eyes wandering the room.

“Only the best for you, Chief,” a man said from somewhere in the shadows.

Lin glanced behind her only to see Kaja talking to someone near the door. When she turned back to where the voice had come from, she had to bite back a laugh. She tried not to, but couldn’t help smiling at the absolute glow that radiated from the man in front of her.

“You like my outfit?” he asked with a grin, twirling around for her.

He had on bright red fit-and-flare pants with a stripe of gold sequins down their side; a matching red low-cut tank top; a purple feather-covered knee-length jacket; gold sparkly platform shoes that made him tower over Lin more than he already would have; and a top hat that belonged with a businessman’s black tie attire.

“It’s incredible,” Lin chuckled, crossing her arms casually over her chest.

“You look sharp yourself today, Chief,” he said with a grin, taking a few steps towards her.

Before she could object, he pulled her into a tight hug. His arms squashed her face against his lower chest, making Lin painfully aware of the extent of their height difference. She laughed and patted his arm, thankfully getting him to release her.

“I’m assuming you’re the photographer, then?” she asked, grinning up at him.

He nodded enthusiastically and spun on his heel, walking back into the darkness. She heard a couple of small crashes and a string of profanities before he came back, a large camera and it’s stand filling his arms.

“Uh- where am I going?” he asked Lin, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She let out a small laugh and stepped towards him, placing her hand on his arm. She guided him towards the bench setup, stopping them near where the light stood.

“Thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed, setting down the camera’s stand first and then fastening the camera to it.

“Of course,” Lin breathed, suddenly nervous to have her photo taken.

The photographer immediately noticed her mood change and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you look,” he closed his eyes and blew a chef's kiss to the side.

Lin nodded and took a deep breath, filling her lungs as much as she could before letting it all out. The photographer made a few adjustments to the camera stand, making sure it would stay while he got her in position, and then led her to the bench. He sat her down in the middle of it and walked back to his camera, dragging the stand loudly over so he was more to her right.

“Don’t be so stiff,” he called, looking at her through the viewfinder and flapping his hand in the air.

“Just- pretend I’m not here, you’re just sitting at home listening to the radio.”

He stepped back from the camera and watched Lin as she settled her head on her left fist with her right elbow on her knee. The photographer gave her a big thumbs up, calling “Much better!” and going back to looking through his camera.

He shifted it a few times before taking any photos, wanting to get it right in as few shots as possible considering the price and rarity of film in stores. Lin looked at the camera for the first few, looking away because of her boredom growing steadily. When he seemed satisfied with the shots, he took the camera off the stand and walked over to the bench.

“Room for another?” he asked, not letting Lin answer before settling himself beside her.

The images printed slowly, one at a time. After each was out, he placed them in the shadow under the bench to protect them from overexposure. Once the last one printed, he reached down and grabbed the first. It had settled well, the colours coming out nice and bright.

“It’s perfect,” Lin gasped, staring in wonder at the photo that managed to make her alright with how she looked out-of-uniform.

The photographer grinned at her, holding the photo up.

“I agree,” he said proudly, forgetting his other photos and standing.

Lin watched as he brought the photo to Kaja, engaging the shorter man in a quick and lively discussion before handing off the photo and walking back. He grinned ear to ear at her, and she sighed before relenting and giving a small smile back.

“Nervous, Chief?” he asked, standing before her with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

Lin chuckled and shook her head.

“I just haven’t done something like this in ages… or ever, really,” she said, her hands moving to grip the edge of the bench.

“Hey,” the photographer moved to place a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to look up at him.

“You’re doing great, Chief, trust me,” Lin let out a breath and really smiled at him this time.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, meaning it with every ounce of her being.

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 5 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Guardians

Helloooo! Did you think I was done? No!

My PhD thesis chapters were approved last week, so have some celebratory meta. I haven't seen the latest Season 4 episodes, so do forgive me for not being up to date.

Welcome to the next part of my analysis of the basic concepts of Miraculous Ladybug. Today we are talking about Master Fu, Order of the Guardians and how little everything here makes sense. I highly recommend reading previous parts to fully understand this one, but I'll try to quote most parts of earlier posts.

Order of the Guardians

Order is an international and ancient organisation (New York Special showed us the guardian from North America and he was dressed like Su Han). Presumably, Miraculous jewels were created by these people. Guardians are responsible for the preservation of jewels and knowledge about them. They also distribute Miraculouses to worthy people around the world to combat mostly magical threats, but sometimes jewels are used against normal threats too. It's implied that Master Fu used Miraculouses during WW2 when he was in Paris. Perhaps he performed some spywork with Marianne, but the magical nature of his interferences was discovered and he was forced to flee, before returning to France many decades later.

Why does the Order need so many people to take care of a 3 Miracle Boxes? If its only purpose is to preserve knowledge, keep magical secrets and distribute Miraculous jewels then wouldn't it be more logical to have Master-Apprentice system? It's much easier to keep magic knowledge a secret and train a few people in martial arts than doing the same in the self-sufficient temple full of people, keeping in mind that a good part of them are teenagers and children, who are bad at keeping secrets. Also a single person can travel around the world much easier to give out Miraculouses. Imagine that we have a few active guardians traveling the world with Boxes. What do other people at the temple do in the meantime? They teach the next generation about the powers of each Miraculous and Mirakung Fu, but besides that?

Master-Apprentice system gives us more personal conflict between Fu and his mentor and makes his relationship with Marinette and Adrien more nuanced. In this scenario Fu accidentally caused the death of his Master at 14 because he wasn't careful. It makes sense for him to take on only 1 or 2 students if this is how things were done with Miraculous Guardians. This Wang Fu is very cautious and protective, he spent the majority of his life afraid of hurting someone else and never took an apprentice as a result. But now he is ready to try again, since he is not getting any younger and he likes these 2 kids. He wants them to succeed. Maybe Master Fu, becomes the father figure for Adrien in this situation and a guide for Marinette. Just think about it. This way writers avoid the need to develop all these extra characters (Su Han) and traditions related to the Order. All inconsistencies I mentioned before and later in this post are gone now! Hell, even memory loss and the changing of the Miracle Box shape could make more sense. We also raise the stakes post-amnesia, if it happens of course (the whole Season 3 finale didn't make sense, so stay tuned for my next meta). Marinette and Adrien are on their own now, there's no one who can give them answers. It's very fun scenario, which has potential to be brilliant. Any thoughts on that?

The existence of Order of the Guardians is not quite a secret, at least it wasn't in XIX century China. Master Fu in "Feast" says that guardianship was considered "a great honor". It implies that people who lived close to the temple of the Order knew about Miraculouses and what exactly guardians did for the greater good.

The existence of other Miracle Boxes around the world makes sense from a real-life perspective. Writers have the ability to create many stories set in the same universe and use them for merchandise and an almost unlimited amount of content. Judging by the unholy amount of specials in production, this is exactly what the creators are going to do. It probably won't go down well, but who knows?

However, it doesn't work in our main story. The main conflict is Paris-centred. Gabriel's motivations revolve around Emilie's resurrection and Season 4 gives us more reasons to suspect that Adrien's mom wasn't as wonderful as everyone says. Hawkmoth still remains the main villain of the show and most likely it's going to stay that way. There's no point in moving the main story to different places for the sake of introducing more Miracle Boxes from around the world. Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't needed to fight something halfway across the world unless Hawkmoth also changes locations.

LB and CN are centrepieces of this franchise. They brought success and money to ZAG. Creators constantly need to remind the audience that this new piece of media with new characters who will never be mentioned again is connected to Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Writers have to come up with reasons to include our heroic duo into the story even if makes no sense.

New York Special had to introduce American Heroes whose names rarely come up in the fandom because people stopped caring about them or their stories shortly after the release of the Special. I barely saw any content dedicated to them. In order to bring LB and CN into the story, you have to include Hawkmoth too. Gabriel suddenly needs to get his hands on the Eagle Miraculous and goes to USA. Marinette and Adrien suddenly have a class trip to New York. Unfortunately, their presence in this story is required only to expand the world of Miraculous and attract fans of the show, so that they could keep an eye on new content related to newly introduced characters.

In the end, it's not their story. Events of the special don't affect main story of the show and the development of the love square is merely an illusion, because Adrien and Marinette are no closer than before. In season 4 LB and CN are growing apart and their test of trust in NY Special doesn't matter. Perhaps, some people don't see it that way and it's their right, but I find it hard to see NYS as a valid contribution to canon. I mean, even people in large portion of the fandom state in the tags on AO3 that "specials are not canon", "specials didn't happen" or "ignores both specials". It speaks volumes about continuity and preferences of your fandom.

Shanghai Special didn't give us more information about the Order, which is located in China, history of Miraculous jewels. We still don't know much about how Gabriel and Emilie found Peacock and Butterfly. Maybe, Marinette's family had connections to Miraculous jewels. Maybe, Adrien does some snooping and discovers research his parents made while Gabriel is away. All of these are relevant to the main story. However, we got something much different in the end.

Marinette chases Adrien across the globe and they make new friends. Fey becomes Ladydragon and now has a direct contact with Marinette through her uncle. Gabriel's desire to get his hands on the Prodigious comes out of nowhere. Apparently, he had been planning this trip for years, presumably even before Adrien was born. It probably happened at the same time as Agrestes found 2 Miraculouses. He bought bracelet-key (which is also a Miraculous apparently, but its Kwami is a Guardian of the Prodigious and they existed separately for a very long time - and let us not dwell on this mess) from some shady mafia boss, who can easily find out just who Gabriel really is (fashion designer billionaire) and use this information to blackmail him. This Special didn't answer important questions, but it gave us a new superhero character.

The real question is whether Miraculous as a project will survive long enough for writers to create content for every minor character they introduced in all specials. This is only a beginning after all.

Miraculous is not a global show and it can't be globalised in a way that makes sense, at least with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the centre of action. Case closed.

Mirakung Fu

I liked the idea of Mirakung Fu introduced in "Furious Fu". It makes sense and things rarely do in this show. Miraculous grants its holder superhuman strength, stamina, endurance and ability to fight. This means that essentially transformed heroes are guided by magic in combat. There's nothing personal in the way Miraculous holders fight. You can predict their moves and learn how to fight this magic guidance, which is what Su Han does.

However, if the holder has any special training, skills or knows any martial art in their civilian life then they become more dangerous opponents during transformation because now their fighting is a mix of magical moves and their personal knowledge, tricks and style. Therefore, Adrien and Kagami as skilful fencers have more chances of winning against someone who knows Mirakung Fu than Marinette, for example.

Memory loss

At the end of season 3, we find out several things:

apparently, now Miracle Box can change appearance to suit its guardian;

when Guardian passes down the Miracle Box to someone else, they lose memories not only about everything related to Miraculous, but also about pretty much everything in their life (Fu doesn't recognise Marianne, instead he experiences the love at first sight)

Master Fu trains Marinette to be the proper holder and next Guardian off-screen. He says that her training as the holder is complete in "Feast" and wants her to become the next Guardian. Fu told her lots of things, and yet, he never mentioned the fact that he would lose his memory after relinquishing the box, nor the fact that Marinette would lose her memory afterwards. She finds out about this from Wayzz after the battle with Miracle Queen and the letter that Master Fu gave her. That's not proper training! How on Earth do you forget to mention this memory loss? How?

Master Fu's amnesia is a convenient plot device that removes him from the narrative almost completely. That's mostly all there is to it. Why? Because it doesn't make sense.

Fu was around 7 or 8 when he started his training. The disaster at the temple happened when he was 14. He stated that his training was never complete, which means that he never passed any magical ritual, never swore an oath or was bound by some kind of spell that made him subjected to the rule of memory loss.

Miracle Boxes belonged to the order, not Fu. Their design reflected their country of origin because these Miraculous were made and kept in China. They were just standing there on the shelves not magically bound to anyone in particular. When Feast attacked, monks just tossed Wang Fu the miracle box and grimoire. No one at the temple lost their memory after Fu took the box with him (Su Han is the proof). Su Han not only remembers Fu and his mistake but everything that happened that fateful day as well. In "Furious Fu" Marinette explains Su Han that Master Fu lost his memory in the very first conversation they have. However, after Ladybug and Chat Noir fight Su Han on the roof and escape with the Miracle Box, the latter searches for Fu and attempts to take his staff from him. In this scene, Su Han acts like Fu knows very well what is going on and who he is.

Su Han should be aware of the memory loss rule as the Celestial Guardian. He remarks on the different shape of the Mother Miracle Box and calls her "incorrect", which means that Su Han should have been able to easily tell that previous Guardian lost his memory and the Miracle Box is now bound to someone else. But he doesn't say anything. Moreover, since Su Han is supposed to know about amnesia, he seemed awfully chill about forcing this 14-year-old girl in front of him to give up the box and her memories. Hell, Chat Noir wasn't on board with this. But we get zero reaction from Su Han.

During the first conversation between Marinette and Su Han, he doesn't ignore what she is trying to say, instead he actively comments on every word. Even if Su Han didn't listen when Marinette told him about Fu's memory loss, than he still should be able to understand that Fu doesn't recognise him, because of common sense and the "incorrect" shape of the box. But nothing of the sort happens. Because writers apparently forgot that "memory loss" is supposed to be known to everyone in the Order. On-screen it looks like Su Han is not aware of the "amnesia rule".

"Furious Fu" makes the concept of memory loss a plothole no matter how you look at it. Just like "Timetagger" and "Chat Blanc", as well as "Kwamibuster" this episode is not consistent within itself. It does not surprise me, however.

Grimoire and Guardian Staffs

Let's talk about the Miraculous Grimoire. Good things first.

There are no illustrations of Miraculouses in camouflage. Kwami can't read its contents, only guardians can. Certain elements are written in riddles as an additional precaution. The book contains only the information people have learned so far, which means that Miraculouses have more unexplored potential ("Mr. Pigeon 72"). It describes powers of each Miraculous, provides information about weapons, has instructions for potions that don't make sense (see previous parts).

Unfortunately, everything is about to go downhill from here.

Guardians are taught how to read the writing in this book. They can read it just like people learn to read texts in a different language. This means that one can read Grimoire like any other book (you don't need to consult some guide to decode each letter or word). Master Fu proclaimed Marinette an almost fully trained Guardian. He should have taught her how to read the Grimoire then (he doesn't know the code very well, but he knew enough to understand the general meaning and content of the book according to "Collector"). He didn't. We don't know why. He shows her powers of every Miraculous but doesn't teach her the code.

Master Fu knows that Grimoire now belongs to Gabriel Agreste. He knows that it's dangerous for someone else to have it. If they knew how to read the Grimoire, they could discover all secrets of Miraculouses and harm Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes. It's very important to keep the information about the code top secret because Fu is not the only one with the source material.

What does he do then? Master Fu proceeds to write a French translation of Grimoire for Marinette, a translation that he doesn't even need. He carries it with him at all times on a tablet (without any precautions) just like the Miracle box after "Feast". Naturally, it means that in "Miracle Queen", Gabriel and Nathalie easily managed to get their hands on the tablet and Miracle Box. It allows the plot to happen, sure. But it doesn't make any sense.

"Furious Fu" created another curious plot hole. It will probably be ignored, of course. Su Han has a staff with a magical compass that allows him to find any Miracle box, but not the Miraculous jewels for some reason. How does the staff work? Can it locate the box without the Miraculous? If yes, then it seems useless. What's the point in the ability to locate an empty box? If it can locate the box only with the Miraculous jewels inside, it implies that the staff can track the location of every Miraculous too. So, Su Han could just locate the Butterfly and Peacock without any problem. But he talks about reassigning Ladybug and Black Cat to adults and defeating Hawkmoth like locating the Butterfly is not possible. This situation makes the Guardian Staff a simple plot device that creates plot holes and its only purpose is to explain how Su Han found Marinette.

Also, I have a few more words to say about this. Master Fu had a Guardian Staff that was never mentioned before. I wonder why? That's because the staff didn't exist before "Furious Fu" was written. Writers just went: "Do you know what would be cool? If Fu's cane was really a secret Guardian Staff with a compass all along that he decided to keep even after he lost his memory? It would make people wonder whether Master Fu is faking amnesia, and everyone will definitely call him an awful mentor after this even though we kind of tried to make him a good and responsible person."

Fu didn't give it to Marinette and didn't mention it to her. Why? When he gave up his memory, he should have written about this in his letter at least. Why did he decide to keep it? He can't use it anyway now.

Please note how in the flashbacks Fu didn't take any staff with him when he escaped the temple. Su Han seemed to know how Fu's staff looked like. It means that Master Fu didn't make this staff himself, because it belonged to the Order.

Su Han wasn't even surprised that Marinette didn't have the staff as the current Guardian. Was she not supposed to have it? He never questioned the fact that the former Guardian without memories has the staff. Su Han actually returns this staff to Fu after he is deakumatized and Fu acts like they have never met before. Why did Su Han gave the staff back when he knows what it is and to whom it should belong (to him or to Marinette as the current Guardian)? The staff is useless in the hands of the civilian. Does Marianne know about its secret? We'll probably never find out, unfortunately.

Guardian Staff of Master Fu has a compass too and therefore this also makes it a plot device, just like Su Han's staff.

[athys-obelia]

summary: the non dysfunctional!imperial family au hcs no one asked for 😳👉👈

character/s: anastacius de alger obelia, claude de alger obelia, athanasia de alger obelia, jennette de alger obelia

here's part 2 :)

let’s set our stage, shall we?

first of all claude n anastacius’ dad is dead coz we don’t like him at all ew

so ana is the emperor, and claude is his heir presumptive (aka he’s got the strongest claim to the throne rn, but this can be changed by the birth of someone who has a stronger one - ie, anastacius’ child who would be the heir apparent) also bc “i know my mom and i gave u lots of childhood trauma that you prlly won’t be recovering from because therapists aren’t a thing here but here’s a crown you might get to make it better”

claude’s in a position where after the birth of ana’s kid/direct descendant, he’s gonna be given a duchy that athy should inherit after him while still retaining the title of prince

but after hearing of diana’s pregnancy, ana tells her and claude he doesn’t really plan on having children and wants to make their future kid his successor

he basically reserves a spot for their child in the directory and rather than announcing anything publically, anastacius names her athanasia after the sex is confirmed

then this mf obviously pulls a clown move and gets penelope pregnant and complicates things, ultimately naming her jennette, finding the name fitting - ‘god is gracious’

and really, what could be more evidence of god’s grace than the child he’s now fathering, when he thought his legacy would be ending with him?

anyways!!!

so since athy and jennette are born near the beginning of ana’s reign, both claude and anastacius are wayyy too busy trying to bring back the empire from the literal brink of bankruptcy and a possible war to really spend time w their kids

it’s alright, though!! lily is hired as athy’s nanny, while jennette gets kiel’s mom as hers

they all still live together, though obviously the main palace is for ana + jennette while claude + athy are in a separate one

this 'separate one’ is ruby palace after ana dismisses the concubines and he definitely 100% did this on purpose, and whenever he’s summoning claude he’s such a shit about it and goes about it the way you’d summon a deadass concubine

on a separate note, it’s surprisingly claude who visits athy first - he’s seen her here and there with lily but hasn’t ever had the chance to spend time w her. but now it’s almost been a year since athy’s birth (or diana’s death), her first birthday is fast approaching, and he is drunk

lily is a reallyyyy light sleeper and enters the nursery upon hearing someone inside

she doesn’t expect to see the prince standing above his daughter’s crib, a strand of her golden hair between his fingers as he just…stares at her

she approaches quietly, curtsying in greeting - he’s too absorbed to notice, and after a few minutes of silence lilian tells him, “babies can get lonely too, your highness.”

he glances at her then, confused. “how?” he really can’t understand how this girl, who can’t even speak yet comprehend something like loneliness

“princess athanasia is very responsive to her surroundings, much more than children her age usually are,” lily says, “and i like to believe children are able to tell when their parents are with them.”

he scoffs - what a foolish thought. still, claude sits by her bedside, and before he can register it, he’s taken over by sleep

the next night, claude makes his way towards the nursery and stiffly asks if athy could sleep beside him for the night - it’s fairly late, but lilian allows it

he’s gone to the main palace too early the next morning for athy to be awake, but she spent about two minutes tops worrying about the strange surroundings, saw the shiny chandelier and fancy bed and decided yes, she doesn’t mind this kidnapping

this becomes somewhat of a regular occurrence soon enough, and sometime that week she wakes up in the middle of the night with her nose pressed into something soft and literally falls off the huge ass bed at the realisation that this something soft is actually her papa’s hair (you just know that hair smells great i mean uh-)

this mans wakes up and peeks at her on the ground, reaches out to grab her from the front of her nightdress (he swears it’s exactly how he’s seen lilian do it) and plops her back onto the bed

she backs up OBVIOUSLY, you don’t just wake up with a random ass man in your bed and just vibe together?? lee jihye is dying but he glares at her for disturbing his sleep and athy pulls her act together in 0.000001 secs as claude pulls her closer and goes back to sleep

as athy grows, claude starts allowing her to visit his office during the day until it becomes a sort of ritual - he’d have tea and milk prepared and she’d come, sitting somewhere completing a puzzle or sum while he works

mans nearly tears down the entire imperial palace the day she doesn’t show up until he finds her in the garden, teaching jettie the 'proper’ way to hold a teacup during tea parties while lilian and roger’s wife, vivian, watch

athy emotionally blackmails asks him to join the tea party, so half an hour later, anastacius finds his brother sitting on the grass with a plastic teacup that athy’s filling with hot water as she lectures him to learn to fix his posture from lily so he can sit like a “proper dignified lady”

so in the beginning, jennette actually ends up spending more time with claude than her dad. though one day, the brothers are in the audience hall when athy runs in with felix running after her telling her not to run (there’s a shit ton of guards surrounding anastacius so felix has orders to be with princess athanasia when claude is with ana)

anastacius is used to this sight, and watches, smirking at his brother’s subtle smile as athy offers him this wonky looking flower crown - claude accepts it wordlessly, and ana wants to slap his ass to sanity, who wouldn’t thank their kid when they do adorable things like this??

but then they hear another voice, and in comes jennette with vivian not too far behind her. now jettie has a much cleaner looking crown in her hand, but she glances at her father’s elaborate and beautiful crown all embedded with gems and glittering and then at the one she’s fashioned out of daisies

she's always thought she was much like her uncle - jennette was so fascinated by the plain daises, they weren’t flashy but caught her eye all the same - while athy was shiny and bold like her dad

but now she’s second guessing her choice, how could she make such a simple crown for her dad, the emperor??

claude sighs from beside anastacius and literally picks off his brother’s crown before tossing it towards a very tired felix

athy urges jennette forward, and with a bright red covering her entire face she offers the crown. jennette glances at her uncle for comfort before muttering, “for papa”

anastacius.exe has crashed

this blushly, embarrassed, and apparently talented at flower crowns kid was his?

long story short he forgets to breathe or react and jettie thinks he hates the crown and hates her and won’t ever like to see her again so she starts getting teary

claude pushes his brother’s head down before athy can be convicted for murder

ana 100% almost faints when her tiny chubby fingers delicately place the crown in place, he’ll never admit it but he closed his eyes and almost hugged her instinctively as she shyly adjusted some of his bangs around the new headpiece, muttering, “papa pretty”

jennette rushes back to her sister, who’s glaring daggers at the emperor

anastacius tries to smile to calm jennette a bit and maybe look nice enough for his niece to not kill him in his sleep

right well kiel becomes the royal playmate for both the princesses - athy has her classes with him since she’s advanced and honestly they’ll be going back forth with infodumps one minute and he’s teaching her to make paper airplanes the next

(she writes notes on the paper airplanes the next time she’s in claude’s office and flies them towards him, stuff like, 'does uncle cius also snore loudly like papa?’ and he gets seriously offended like a pissbaby)

jennette first met kiel when he was visiting his mom - vivian had to leave for a bit and she taught him a bunch of flower names and their meanings in the meantime - he makes sure to research a new flower every time he visits her, and brings her a bouquet of said flowers she always knows them but never says anything coz she doesn’t wanna hurt his feelings and he gets so excited as he tells her about their meanings it’s so cute

speaking of jennette - claude and ana may seem worlds apart but they’re at the same level of emotionally constipated

ana watches his brother and niece interact and he craves that, an unconditional, timeless love that can’t possibly be tainted by ulterior motives or the like, but he just doesn’t know how to approach little jettie

it seems easy enough - she’s a smiley, sweet girl and theoretically would be friendly if he is to approach her

but gods he’s just so ashamed - such a sweet babe grew without either of her parents and he doesn’t have an excuse because holy hell, even claude is close to athy

he’s being served food in his chambers when he asks the maid about jennette, and she tells him how among her first words was 'love’ and the brunette would just stroll the palace pointing at people and declare “love you” and watch their face light up

thats so CUTE OMFG

his jaw is touching the floor when he’s told that his daughter knows the names of every worker within the palaces

at this point he’s honestly questioning whether this child is his at all

he’s absolutely horrified at the realisation that this maid, who doesn’t even work in jennette’s part of the palace, knows more about her than he does - hell, he hadn’t even asked vivian to keep him updated on her growth, what right does he have to stick himself into her life now?

now, the maid quietly suggests starting with something small like inviting jennette to tea and

of course he goes about it the wrong way??

poor jettie thinks she’s being tested by the ruthless emperor on her etiquette and spends the entire day practicing with claude after athy guilted him into it

she’s so nervous in front of her dad that he honestly feels even guiltier, and anastacius hurries to grab her hands in his to calm their tremble as she reaches to serve him tea

she apologises lmao and he’s just so flustered himself that he orders for her to sit down and instructs her through a few deep breaths

as she calms down, ana serves her the tea before asking whether girls her age even drink tea

she says no and you can literally hear the crickets

he slides the cup he’s poured for her over to his side before gesturing towards the deserts (it was claude’s daughter-luring pro tip) on her side

“you look like you read a lot,” ana says, before asking whether she’s been reading anything interesting lately

“i don’t, actually,” she tells him shyly

anastacius laughs at how of all things his hate for books is what she got from him - and only when jennette chuckles does he realise that he said that out loud

he lets her go around her bedtime, feeling rather… energized? he doesn’t know how to explain it, but it’s a good feeling

he’s busy again the next day, but has an aide send her flowers - the same ones she had put in her flower crown for him

yes lucas is still sleeping in the palace, yes athy still finds him

so athy sees the flowers from uncle cius and is enraged, literally walks up to her uncle and demands he leave jennette alone if he’s only gonna break her heart by neglecting her

and so we have fifteen minutes of the emperor of obelia stuttering as he explains himself to this seven year old

smfh his cluelessness reminds her of her own dad and she takes pity on ana’s suffering soul

the next morning, to give him a chance to redeem himself, athy asks all four of them to have breakfast together - they accept the invitation, and despite an awkward start, the meal seems to be going well

peace is not written in this family’s fate however, and this is where the first coughing up blood thing happens

ohhhh the palace staff almost gets massacred that day

athy’s limp body is moved to jennette’s room since it’s the closest - lily bursts into tears at the very sight of her princess, jennette refuses to eat or drink until her sister can, felix hears his heart break, claude is barely holding himself together

ana is livid - who dares poison a member of his family? what has he even done to earn the privilege of calling these girls his family, when he can’t protect them, at the very least?

claude absolutely refuses to leave her room and finishes all his work right outside her door, lest she wake up in pain again

anastacius can’t keep his own anxiety about jennette at bay, insisting she sleep with him as long as claude stays with athanasia - he can tell she’s drained, and she ends up sharing some of her worries late at night. he soothes both her worries and her cries, letting her curl up into him despite it being a rather uncomfortable position

the family is thrown into chaos again once they realise it was never poison, but athy’s own magic that caused this

aka when chibi lucas drops by and voodoos her back to 100%, everyone legit starts worshipping the ground he walks on - he saved their precious princess!!

ana insists on making him athy’s royal playmate after hearing she isn’t fully healed yet

what does this give us? well, a very very early lucas vs kiel

since they’ve both got the title of royal playmate, they constantly argue on whether being the future duke alpheus is a better title than the future royal magician

the girls are always dragged into this - athy always takes kiel’s side to avenge blackie, and jennette likes kiel too, but the young magician sir saved her sister!!

so.

when vivian passes away due to an illness, it’s like roger is an entirely different person

jennette + kiel + athy all help with the funeral preparations since she was a mother/aunt to them all

felix seems to be paying extra attention to kiel

it isn’t long after this that roger decides to send him to arlanta for his studies, leaving behind two disillusioned princesses

athy spends her time viciously studying to stay ahead of arlanta’s curriculum, while jennette takes an interest in cooking

(athy tries and fails spectacularly; lucas laughs at her and jettie accidentally serves him his favourite food too salty to be edible)

a/n: this would be the first of the two parts, so stay on the lookout, hope y'all enjoyed n have a great day <3

edit: part 2

[illfoandillfie]

I don’t know if you’re still doing asks for the advent calendar. But just wondering if you could do a Ben x Reader x Present!Roger, where Ben and reader are the subs for Rog and he is hard!dom and they’re getting punished but at the end it’s super fluffy with my fav poly relationship. Idk if this makes since and I hope you could be comfortable with writing this! Btw love your writing! ❤️❤️

Oh i absolutely love this prompt and honestly i can’t think of a better way to end this thing than with a rog x ben threesome!!

Warnings: smut, spanking, edging/orgasm denial, sir kink, dom! rog, sub! ben, sub! reader, collars, a tiny bit of hair pulling, overstimulation, minor mentions of oral sex (m and f receiving), there’s also a bit where rog steps on reader, also its like 4k lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 25

It had been natural to let Roger take the lead, so to speak, in your relationship. Even in the early days, there’d never really been a question about you submitting to Roger. For one thing, you trended towards submissive anyway but something about Roger, the way he carried himself, automatically made you want to kneel before him. Age probably had something to do with it too. There was a perceived expertise because he was older (and as he frequently joked, wiser too), that had you agreeing to call him Sir and to follow his instructions, even within the first few weeks of getting together. Normally you’d wait a while before jumping into anything especially kinky with someone new, and to be fair he hadn’t rushed into bringing out the harder stuff, but it was almost shameful how fast you’d let him toy with you, agreeing to wear a collar to symbolise your submission. You’d well and truly established your dom/sub relationship before you’d agreed to consider each other boyfriend and girlfriend, (His age may have been a hinderance there, the word boyfriend not often associated with someone like him) so when Ben first met you, he assumed something entirely different. Roger had invited him around for dinner, with the added intention of being able to talk drums for as long as they wanted. Ben had shook your hand and made a comment that implied he thought you were Roger’s niece or grand daughter or something along those lines and before you’d been able to correct him he was caught up in a discussion with Roger about one of the songs he had to play in the movie. You left them too it, shrugging Ben’s assumption off. If you were going to date a man in his seventies then you had to be prepared for people to think you were connected by blood or else that you were in it for the money. Neither was true but it’s what people would think and there was no reason to get upset about it. Ben’s impression was re-evaluated later that day when he’d wandered away from the drum kit to find Roger and walked in on him giving you a quick edge. As soon as he realised Ben was there Roger apologised.

“Oh, that’s um, no, uh, no need for that,” Ben stuttered out, “I just thought, but, uh, I was obviously wrong,”

“Family or sugar baby?” Roger asked curiously.

“Family. Then sugar baby when I saw your hand up her skirt.” Ben seemed to realise what he’d said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“She’s my girlfriend actually,” Roger turned his head to smile at you, “I would have said so but we’ve really only just started telling people so it kind of slipped my mind that I could,”

“No worries, um, I’ll leave you to it and just go try out that bit on the drums again.” Ben turned and walked back down the hallway as quickly as he could, Roger chuckling softly as he kissed the top of your head.

“How would you feel if I invited Ben to have sex with us?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m not saying I definitely will but…he’s been looking at you a lot this afternoon. I figured he was probably trying to work out who you were to me but if he assumed family he might have been checking you out.”

“You think?” you asked, trying to keep your tone level. Ben was fit and you wouldn’t have minded him making a pass at you, even if you’d had to turn him down.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, see if I can work it out, but would you be okay with that? If he joined us?”

“That sounds kind of fun,”

“Alright then, I’ll feel him out and see if I can’t convince him to stay the night.”

 Over the course of the afternoon and evening Roger used every trick in his book to determine Ben’s attraction to you, and if he’d be interested in a threeway, steadily getting less and less subtle. By the time dinner had been eaten just about all delicacy was out the window.

“Look, sorry again about earlier,” Roger said, passing Ben a scotch and soda, “I’ve been edging Y/N a bit today because I’m planning on fucking her rotten tonight and I want her dripping wet and ready to beg for it,”

You weren’t sure whether you or Ben was more embarrassed by that but Roger didn’t seem to notice.

“Not that I really need too because she’s got, well let’s call it a very healthy sex drive. Edging her keeps her in her place and makes sure she knows I’m the one who controls if and when she gets an orgasm, but honestly she’s ready to go whenever I ask. I could tell her to strip right now and she would.”

“Is that right?” Ben said despite himself. His eyes darted about the room, not knowing where to look, but his tone was curious.

“She’s very obedient. If you wanted I could tell her to suck you off and it would take literally two seconds for her to be on her knees.”

Ben audibly gulped, his face beyond pink.

“Should I tell her to do that Ben?”

“Umm,”

“I think she’d like it if you joined us tonight. She does think you’re fit.”

“J-joi-join you?”

“We can set up one of the spare rooms for you if you want to stay. I might even see about lending her to you for the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, hypothetically, if you did stay, we’d share her for a bit, make up for all those edges I gave her. Then afterwards you could take her off to another bed and have her as many times as you wanted while I got a good nights sleep. Twice this week she’s wanted me in the middle of the night, it’d be nice to let someone else deal with her instead. Of course, there would be a few ground rules but they’re easy enough.”

“Like what?”

“Oh well, you can take her raw if you like but we’d prefer you not to finish in her cunt. Anywhere else is fine though. Obviously safewords are a must and limits have to be respected, hers, yours and mine. And you do need to understand that I’m in charge. She submits to me, she calls me Sir and she wears a collar for me. We both enjoy it, we both get off on it, and we expect anyone who joins us to understand that.”

“I understand,” Ben nodded.

“Does that mean you want to stay?”

“Yes.”

Roger had grinned and turned to you, “Well, why don’t you give our guest a proper welcome.”

 Ben fit in better than you might have assumed he would. It had been natural for you to submit and apparently Ben felt the same. That first night he constantly looked to Roger for guidance and permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or do something that would bring the night to an end. As you’d sucked Ben’s cock Roger had commanded you both, telling you when to deepthroat him and when to come up for air, telling him to grab your hair or push you down further. After that he’d suggested Ben repay you and walked him through edging you with just his fingers, teaching him the signs of your impending orgasm so he could stop it at the last second. And when you did finally make it to the bedroom, he’d told you both how to position yourselves, giving instructions and making demands as you’d been filled by both of them. Ben joined you in calling Roger Sir, giving up control as fully as you did. When Roger suggested edging Ben himself, Ben didn’t object. He dropped his eyes and bit his lip and whined prettily as Roger stroked his cock carefully, always stopping short. Afterwards he’d been rewarded, as Roger had promised he would be, with you as company in his bed. Mostly you’d stayed up talking, Ben curiously asking questions about your relationship with Roger and how it had come about. He was most intrigued by the dominant and submissive dynamics, how it worked and how you’d felt adding an extra person to it. Of course, you’d made sure it wasn’t all talk. Ben was hot and Roger expected him to fuck you so there was no harm in it. Besides, you knew Roger would call you a good girl if you were obedient and took Ben however he wanted. Ben seemed to like that aspect of your reasoning too. He didn’t want to disappoint Roger by not using you and the chance of being called a good boy for it was motivation enough.

 You’d expected it to be a one night thing but a couple of weeks later Roger had extended Ben another invitation to dinner. Things went in much the same direction, only Ben had fallen asleep in the bed you shared with Roger rather than taking a spare for himself and the next morning had offered a repeat performance of the night before. It was the same the next time Ben came for dinner and the time after that. On the sixth time you all gave up the pretext of dinner. Ben arrived earlier in the afternoon and Roger greeted him with the order to strip, which he did without question. The next morning Roger, pleased with Ben, made a suggestion that it become more official, and offered him a collar identical to yours.

“You can say no, of course,”

Ben hadn’t even hesitated before he picked up the collar and fitted it around his throat. You’d helped him with the clasp at a look from Roger who’d then ordered you both to suck him off. From then on it became a much more regular thing. For the most part both you and Ben would submit to Roger, gradually showing Ben harder things like spankings and restraints and all the fun stuff. Sometimes Roger would just sit back and watch Ben have his way with you and sometimes he’d disappear with Ben while you were busy or not in the mood. When Roger was called overseas unexpectedly Ben stayed with you. Roger asked for photos and videos and you delighted in sending him pictures of hickeys and scratches you gave each other as well as videos of each of you edging or Ben’s cock sliding in and out of your cunt, your moans in the background. Of course, the shifts in your sexual relationships also impacted your non-sexual relationships. Ben was important to you and Roger. He wasn’t just someone you hooked up with, he was part of things. When you redecorated the kitchen, Ben helped pick out the colours and when Roger wanted someone to listen to the first demo of a new song he’d written, Ben was there to give feedback. He was an extra shoulder to lean on, an extra pair of hands when there was chores to be done, and extra person to spend time with. But even with all the changes, your sexual dynamic remained the same. Roger was in charge. And that was how he liked it. Especially when he got to punish one or both of you.

Not that his punishments were ever really punishments. Once he’d come home from a weekend trip, expecting a clean house only to find the kitchen covered in rubbish and dirty dishes while you and Ben giggled away under the covers upstairs. He’d got very stern and made you both write lines. I will complete my chores before I have sex one hundred times each. But for the most part his punishments were actually fun, if a little painful. Spanking and orgasm denial and bondage, things that you could get off on, and always for small misdemeanours like poking your tongue out at him or going over an edge before you had permission. Because you and Ben enjoyed giving up control so much, your slight bratty tendencies generally just signalled a desire to be pushed or for something a little harder than what he was giving you. When one of you acted out without involving the other he’d let them help with the punishment, giving you both an outlet for any of your slightly more dominant inclinations. But more often than not you’d wind up being punished together.

On one such occasion, you and Ben had started teasingly referring to Roger as Mr Softie within his hearing after he’d dripped ice cream on his shirt. He’d smiled and laughed along but that evening he’d got back at you, using your collars to chain you to the desk in his office, your hands bound in cuffs in front of you. For a while he left you there, just out of reach of each other, wondering what he had in store. The silence was broken every so often by one of you making a quiet suggestion as to what he might do to you or wondering when he’d return, the anticipation building with each passing minute. Your heart pounded in your chest but you only grew wetter as you were forced to wait and Ben seemed to be in a similar predicament, his pants getting steadily tighter. Finally, Roger returned, ignoring you as he placed a paddle and a vibrator down on the desk you were tied to. Without acknowledging you he unclasped Ben’s collar, giving it a tug to make Ben crawl toward the couch set up at the other end of the room.

“Sir?” Ben asked as he reached the couch, looking up at Roger from his place on the floor.

“Up on the couch. Face down. Now.”

Ben jumped to follow the direction, settling with his face pressed against one cushion, his knees resting on the other, and his hips as high in the air as he could comfortably manage.

“Right,” Roger said, turning back to the desk and continuing to ignore you, “It seems you need to be taught a lesson about respect. And I think the fastest way to teach you is to spank your arse raw. Maybe a few days of not being able to sit down will be a strong enough reminder that I own you and you will respect me.” As he talked, Roger retrieved the paddle and tapped it against his hand, just loud enough that Ben could hear, his whimpers rising as he waited for the first strike. You watched as Roger stalked towards Ben, raised his arm and brought it down hard on Ben’s arse, the shocked cry that escaped Ben almost enough to have you whining yourself. Roger didn’t pause, just lay three or four hits on Ben, each one hard enough that Ben tried to wriggle away and the sound cut through the mostly quiet room. Suddenly Roger reached for Ben’s cock, stroking his already hard member before laying another few spanks on him. Ben made a mixture of sounds, some of pain and some of pleasure but all of them egged Roger on as he edged Ben and turned his arse a dappled purple wherever the paddle struck.

“How does that feel slut? Does it hurt?” Roger’s tone shifted to one of mock whining and back in a matter of seconds, “that whore’s going to be in for it too since it was her idea to disrespect me.”

Ben howled as another few spanks hit him, tears getting lost in the cushion of the couch, but you could see how his hips jolted with every light touch to his dick and how he twitched when Roger retracted his hand.

You’d lost count of how many edges and spanks Ben had received by the time Roger hooked two fingers into the collar, using his grip to pull Ben up higher, “Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson or should I keep teaching you?”

Ben shook his head, eyes still watery and voice more of a sob, “no more, please, I understand,”

“I’m very happy to hear that. Do you think you should be allowed to cum now?”

“Yes please Sir,”

“Yeah? You think I should stop being mean and wank you off already?”

Ben nodded.

“Okay then Benny. But only if she manages to hold out.”

Ben whimpered but nodded, falling to his side.

Roger gently stroked his fingers through Ben’s with a few quiet words of praise before he turned to you. Just like with Ben, Roger unchained you and then made you crawl to the couch. It was awkward with your arms bound but you didn’t dare sit up straighter to walk on your knees, that would only leader to a harder punishment. When you reached the couch Roger stopped you, telling you to turn around and get into the same position Ben had been in, your face against the carpet and your arse in the air. The only difference was that you remained on the floor, your arse facing Ben. The first spank took you by surprise. You’d been so concerned with your position and wondering how closely Ben was watching that you’d forgotten what was coming. It was followed by another three in rapid fire, the paddle thwacking you with such force that you jolted forward each time.

“You’re in trouble Benny,” Roger said, bending slightly to drag his fingers along your cunt, “She’s already soaked. Don’t know she’ll last.”

You whined and squirmed as his fingers traced over you and then yelled when he hit you again. There was no pattern to his punishment, try as you might to find one. He gave you two hits and then pressed his fingers into you, fucking you with them for a moment, and then another five hits, his fingertips lightly rubbing your clit, another two spanks, a spank to your cunt, another three to your arse, and then his fingers again. But there was no way to tell how many spanks you’d endure before he edged you or even how he’d touch you, whether he’d twist his fingers inside you or circle your clit.

“Finger her for me,” Roger said and you heard Ben wince as he stood and knelt behind you. You heard Roger walk away as Ben sank his fingers into you. He slowly pulled them out and pushed them back in, wanting to do as he’d been told, but not wanting to accidentally push you over the edge lest he not get his own orgasm. That was until Roger, over his shoulder, told Ben to do it properly or be spanked again. After that Ben was merciless, shoving a third fingers into you and roughly pounding his them as deep as he could go.

“That’s better,” Roger said when he returned to your side, “make the whore pay for getting you into trouble.”

You cried out and tried to wriggle away as another spank came down on you, but it was impossible to escape with Ben’s fingers hooked in your cunt and your bound hands. All the same Roger placed one of his feet on the side of your head, holding you down against the carpet as he whacked you again and again, ignoring your screams and the tears soaking the carpet. He stopped and you breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived as a buzzing noise filled the room and you remembered the toy he’d brought in with the paddle.

 There was no way to suppress your moan as Roger held the vibrator against your clit, warning you not to cum. He held it there for a matter of seconds and then pulled it away again. Ben’s fingers left you a second later and then you were being tugged up by your collar again, the thick leather band pressing into your throat.

“On the couch, whore.”

“Yes, Sir,” you managed to sob as a few more tears rolled down your cheeks.

Once you were on the couch, positioned the same way you had been on the floor, Ben was handed the vibrator.

“Against her clit, highest setting. Don’t move it until I tell you.”

You whimpered, knowing there was no way you could hold back an orgasm with that kind of stimulation. But that didn’t seem to matter to Roger. He expected you to hold it, reminding you that you didn’t have permission in low growl as he spanked you on the back of your thigh. Your arse tingled all over, stinging twice as much whenever he hit you again but it was nothing to the sensation of the vibrator against your clit.

“I’m close,” you whined before another cry was ripped from you as Roger spanked the back of your other thigh.

“Don’t move it slut. The whore needs to fucking hold it.”

You tried but it was no use, there was nothing you could think of, nothing you could do, that could keep you from disobeying. You moaned as the orgasm rolled through you and heard Roger drop the paddle.

“Don’t move it Ben,” Roger growled as he stalked around to your head, pulling it up by the hair, “I thought I told you to hold it whore,”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you half yelled, whining as the vibrator kept buzzing against your clit.

“You will be.”

You lost sight of Roger as he shoved you back down and walked away.

“Guess we have our answer Ben. Since the whore couldn’t stop herself from cumming, you won’t be allowed to.”

“No, Sir, please, I really need to,”

“That was our deal though slut.”

“Sir,”

“Don’t argue, it’ll just make things worse for you. And don’t move that vibrator.”

Ben fell silent, though a few whimpers escaped him as he pressed the vibrator against you harder.

You were expecting another series of spanks, so when you heard the small jingle sound of Roger removing his belt you cringed away, assuming that was what he was going to hit you with. But instead of the swishing sound it made before a strike, it was followed by the sound of a zip. Roger grabbed your hips and pulled them around so he could press his cock into you. By now the vibrator against your clit felt painful, the overstimulation enough to make you sob but the feeling was only amplified by Roger fucking you hard, his jeans rubbing against your arse since he hadn’t bothered to push them down. You squealed and sobbed as he used your cunt, the vibrator torturing your sensitive clit and making you cry into the couch cushion. Roger just grunted about how tight you were and how your sobs just turned him on more, until finally he came deep inside you. Only after he pulled out did he take the vibrator from Ben, shushing you when you sobbed out a thank you. He stood behind you until he saw his cum dribble out of you and then pulled Ben up by the collar and told him to clean you up. There were footsteps as he left the room but neither of you dared disobey so Ben continued to spread your lips with his thumbs and lick along your slit, pulling a soft moan from you. Roger returned with a warm damp cloth and told Ben to stop. He swiped the cloth over your thighs and up along your lips, gently cleaning off whatever Ben had missed. When he was satisfied he asked you to move over and sat down in the centre of the couch.

“You did so well, Y/N,” he said softly, letting you rest your head in his lap and smoothing back your hair with his palm, “Do you wanna come up here Ben?”

Ben nodded and gingerly knelt on Roger’s other side, too sore to sit properly.

“You were such a good boy Ben, and I’m so proud of you for holding out,” he said as he lay the damp cloth flat against his hand and then reached for Ben’s dick, using the cloth to wank him, “You can cum now.”

Ben panted out a thank you, his voice falling into a moan as he finally got what he’d needed for so long. You watched through tired eyes as Roger’s fist pumped over Ben’s length until his hips stuttered and he moaned with his release. Roger kept praising him until he was completely spent, using the cloth to gather the evidence of the orgasm. It was thrown to the floor and Roger carefully unfastened Ben’s collar, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips and whisper that he loved him. He wrapped his arm around Ben and let him settle on his chest.

“Y/N, love, can you sit up for me?”

You nodded and slowly pushed yourself up, feeling a little dazed.

Roger gently removed your collar and kissed you too, taking an extra moment to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away the last of your tears, and remind you how good you were and how much he loved you before he let you settle in his lap again. He knew he’d have to move you both eventually. There were ice packs and aloe downstairs in the kitchen that would help with your bruised arses and he’d have to make sure you both ate something and drank some water before you went to sleep. But Roger was happy just to sit there for a while to comfort and cuddle the two people he loved most.

[capri-ramblings]

[A Hyena's Nip] Part 2

Another month passed by and you weren't looking any better. In fact, you looked terrible. Your complexion had turned unnaturally pale and your eyes had dark,heavy bags under them even when you tried to hide it with some of the concealer Epel got you from Vil. Your weight loss shocked Mr. Vargas and Riddle threatened to send you back home himself if Crowley didn't address your condition.

Thus, explains the current situation you were in; Being dragged along by the Heartslyabul boys as Riddle marched through the school halls to get to Crowley's office. He seemed like he was almost on fire and the way Trey held you up made you realise how much of a big brother he looked like then.

"Hey,you really okay there?" Cater was the one who asked, he had his usual perky but nervous smile on when he turned to you. "We could slow down a bit if you're tired"

You clenched your jaws and tried to pull away from Trey's grip, voice shaky yet harsh when you snapped.

"I'm fine. I told you guys, didn't I? Can we just stop this?"

"You look half dead." Riddle refuted, he wasn't looking back to you but you could tell he was scowling. "If you think you can act all suicidal with me, you're wrong. I'll have your head before you end up killing yourself like this."

"You do realize you just threatened me with homicide to avoid a suicide?"

Riddle didn't answer, instead Trey and Cater both looked to you sympathetically and when Crowley's office door was in sight, Riddle swung it open so hard you thought it'll come off.

You were expecting Crowley to jolt from his seat from behind his desk, but the scene that played out was completely different.

Ruggie was in the office, along with Crowley and a small group of students wearing Pomefiore's armband. It looked like Riddle's intrusion had disrupted a conversation but anyone with eyes could tell from the tense expression on everyone that it was more of an argument than a negotiation.

"Mr. Rosehearts,what's the meaning of this? Barging in without notice, and cutting off my very crucial sentence as well. You better have a good explanation for this."

You were placed between Trey and Cater and so he didn't noticed you at first, but then Riddle went and pulled you by the arm and practically shoved you forward. You almost fell if it weren't for Ace and Deuce immediately coming to support you.

"The result of your neglect." Riddle said haughtily and Crowley had to actually look at you to see how different you were from when he last saw you.

"What on earth happened to you?" You didn't expect Crowley to sound so worried but then again you always kinda believed he wasn't such a bad guy in the first place.

Ruggie's expression changed as well. From irritated and annoyed, to extremely surprised and a bit taken aback if not concerned.

"Why the hell did you looked like you were shoved off a cliff?" Was his first thought, the second one being a question that immediately sent alarms blaring in his head.

"What happened to you?"

Ruggie didn't want to consider it was probably from his harsh rejection, but it fit didn't it? He saw you a couple of times after the confession and he wouldn't really say you looked that great, but you didn't look like...this.

You'd pass him in hallways between class exchanges and a few more times during lunch break, but he noted how you always kept your head down, even when he was sure you didn't noticed him there.

Was it all because of what he did?

"Whats happening here...?" You were surprised to hear yourself utter the words despite the heat of bile threatening to puke itself out the moment you saw Ruggie turn his head to look at you.

But you couldn't let your expression fall, because if you did,he would know. Ruggie couldn't know you were crying because of him. A small part of you felt like he didn't deserve it.

"A crime's been committed! Our precious rolls of silk have been stolen!" One of the Pomefiore students said, cheeks heated by irritation.

"From right under our nose too!" Another added.

"And the culprit is standing right with us!"

"Ruggie?" Riddle was the one who spoke up this time, and brows furrowed and lips pursed. You weren't sure the rising irritation came from the fact he didn't care about their stupid silk or because he didn't quite believed their accusation.

You knew it was the second one for you.

"Why would I steal a bunch of stupid silk? The cafeteria sandwiches costs more than those!"

"How dare you! First you steal from us with your measly hands and now you're insulting the materials Vil himself chose? Why is such a lowly person like you even here at this academy? Go back to your den,hyena."

Ruggie's blood boiled at that and he was about to show these damned privileged herbivores what hyenas like him could do to them when someone else stepped forward.

"Take that back!" Your words left you faster than you could process them, and the amount of anger they carried bellied the weak opposition you gave by standing in front of Ruggie.

Your chest was heaving and the floor beneath your feet seemed to sway but you didn't care. You gritted your teeth and shoved an equally accusing finger towards the three students.

"Where the hell is your proof if you're so damned confident that he took them,huh? Running your mouth like a bunch of kindergarteners...Is this what Vil teaches his underclassmen?"

"H-Hey,___...Take it easy, you're wobbling" Ruggie's presence behind you made you dizzy but it felt good to have him near you and hearing him so worried. Call it creepy or pathetic,but when he placed a hand on your shoulder to help balance out your stance, your heart fluttered.

"No. This is wrong. Crowley,you can't let them throw insults like that to other students! Everyone here has their rights to attend despite where they came from or whether or not they're noble, Ruggie is the same! He isn't some thief who goes taking stuff just because he can!"

Crowley stiffened at your bold statement,but he nodded his head and his glowing eyes narrowed. Yes,he shared the same ideal as you. This is not how prestigious students from a prestigious school acts!

"___ has a sound point. If you feel Mr.Bucchi has stolen your goods,I assume you have the proof for it."

The three students shared glances,panicked and doubtful, but when one of them wanted to speak up, Crowley's office door slammed opened.

"HEADMASTER,I MADE A MISTAKE!"

It was Kalim who entered the scene now, and with a very annoyed Jamil and a few Scarabia students carrying rolls of what looked to be silk trailing behind him.

"What in the world?"

"Kalim! Don't go running off like that! The others won't be able to catch up with you." Jamil almost growled out the words but upon seeing that there were others, he pulled back his expression and let out a heavy sigh before pulling Kalim by the collar.

"You're going to cause trouble for people if you don't calm down,Kalim."

"Ah.. Sorry,sorry..."

Kalim lifted his gaze to look at Crowley when his gaze caught the Pomefiore students and almost immediately his expression beamed.

"Jamil! Look,it's them!" He was pointing at the three boys, oblivious to the fact that the tension in the room reared in a rather awkward direction due to his intrusion.

Riddle was the first to disperse this fact, crossing his arms severely as he sent a glare in Kalim's direction.

"It would serve a great purpose if you explain why on earth you're here,Kalim. I thought you were redesigning your dorm today."

"Oh,we were! I even had specially designed carpets to replace the old ones we have but then when I came to take them... Well...", Kalim hung his head low,hands scratching the nape of his neck.

Jamil shook his head and gestured the other students to step forward.

"It seems like Kalim took something other than the carpets by accident."

The Pomefiore students had their expression warped as they watched the Scarabia students bring forward the rolls of silk they had lost, and hearing the sneering hum of Ruggie beside them as the realization of the truth unfurled before them.

"I guess my excitement got the better of me again. But I wanted to give them back of course! So I went to your office, Headmaster so we could fix this but looks like everything sorted on its own!" Kalim let out a laugh as Jamil sighed once more and Riddle shook his head.

You on the other hand was going to fall flat on your face from the sudden dizziness hazing up your thoughts when Ace and Deuce immediately came to support you.

Tethering on your toes, you sent them a grateful smile but didn't dare look back to Ruggie.

Crowley dismissed the whole thing instantly after matters between Pomefiore and Scarabia were settled, though he left the boys who accused Ruggie with a warning before making them apologize.

Riddle made sure Crowley came to give you proper care with whatever it is you needed at your dorm, even when you told them all you wanted was sleep.

They did walk you back though, Ace and Deuce making light conversation while Trey and Cater discussed your schedule with Riddle. Apparently your seniors felt that you weren't handling your time properly and thus took it on themselves to ensure you had a good guideline to go along with.

You wanted to sigh and tell them to stop fussing over you but it somehow felt nice, being cared for when all you were feeling was the deadpan weight of your own doubts crushing your form. They really did feel like family and for a moment,you actually forgot about Ruggie.

Until, of course, he came knocking on your door a few hours after. The night already began blanketing the dorm when you came down from your room and opened your front door to see Ruggie staring right at you.

You had asked Grim to get it at first but then he began whining and kept bothering the ghosts to do it until you decided that it was better (and quicker) to do it yourself. Though, you were definitely regretting that choice now.

"Hey" Ruggie threw a small wave, lips parted in a smile that revealed his canines. You tried to not look dazed, to act like you completely forgot the day's incident, but it was a lot harder to play dumb when your stomach was lurching about at the mere sight of him.

What was wrong with you? Ruggie had blew you off and made you feel disgusted with your sexuality. You should've hated him by now.

And yet, you waited a second longer to drink up the sight of him before speaking.

"Hi."

It's not the fact that you sounded so soft that made Ruggie clear up his throat, it was the sudden feeling of warmth budding inside his stomach from remembering what you did today that left him feeling off.

"So,um,I just wanted to sa—"

"Did you want to come in?" You unintentionally cut him off,taking him by surprise as Ruggie's brows arched and he stood there underneath your doorframe just staring at you with his curious eyes.

You had to blink twice before scratching the back of your neck and hastily apologizing to which Ruggie replied with a dismissive wave and a casual "Yeah sure" to your invitation.

You didn't know which was worst; Ruggie acting like he didn't emotionally scar you or the hot swell of blush tinting your cheeks.

"I could get you a drink or something if you want?"

You were trying to find a way to escape this situation, clinging to the hope of Ruggie just changing his mind and walking away. But then he shook his head and crossed his arms, his gaze turning still once it focused on you.

"I wanna talk to you about today" He said, then added, "And about the other day,when you confessed."

The lump in your throat seemed to shift into a heavy weight which dropped to the pit of your stomach and grated along your inner walls. The way Ruggie was looking at you then brought back the pain of hearing his words on that fateful day, where you poured out your heart and watched as Ruggie trampled on it before leaving you alone to count the shards of your broken heart.

You wanted to sit down, but your legs felt shackled and all you could really do was just look up at him.

Ruggie felt like punching himself in the face as he stared at your pleading eyes. You were desperately trying to tell him to leave weren't you? He didn't have to hear the words to understand the deep remorse you were holding back in your gaze.

He knew damn well that if he moved to touch you, you'd break down crying, and really,he wouldn't blame you. Not after what he did.

See,Ruggie was convinced that the reason he acted the way he did to you was because he wanted to spare you the heartbreak of a relationship that probably wouldn't have lasted long but if he was being honest now which he was, Ruggie did it because he was scared. You were both boys attending an only boys academy goddamn it, the fact that you had came up to him and confessed cause a panic to stir inside him.

Ruggie wasn't all that experienced with girls, having another guy like you that way was something out of his comfort zone. So, he lashed out. He admits that. He didn't know how to react, didn't felt safe trying to tell you how he felt.

He knew he didn't hate you, but did he like you the way you liked him? Could he like you so intimately? There shouldn't be anything wrong with that, and yet...

Ruggie had to run his fingers through his hair before biting the insides of his cheek and finally breaking the silence.

"First off, thanks for having my back when those prissy stuck ups jabbed their fingers at me for stealing their silk. I didn't really expect anyone to come in to help me like that. Especially not you, at least not after what I did," He was talking so rapidly, eyes seemingly flaring as he watches you fidget. "And secondly, about your confession that day and what I said and how I said them, look I didn't seem to care then but—" Ruggie paused, jaws tensing up before he clenched them hard.

You wanted to run away from this. You weren't ready. Your heart was going to get broken again.

Ruggie's gaze softened suddenly despite his body remaining stiff and awkward in your presence. He looked like he wanted to whisper a secret to you and somehow you felt yourself falling for him again.

It was so pathetic, you didn't even realized you began crying until Ruggie came to grab you by your shoulders.

"Hey,hey,don't cry! Shit,fuck." He lifted his gaze to the staircase, noting the sounds of other people upstairs. No footsteps seemed to abruptly stop or move in a direction that indicated someone was coming down, but Ruggie still moved you further from it in case someone did decide to check on you.

"I'm sorry" You mumbled, furiously wiping your tears with the sleeves of your shirt. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop, I'll..."

You couldn't. Your tears seemed endless. The weight of suppressing all that emotion finally caught up with you, didn't it?

This was not how Ruggie imagined this meeting to end up like. He was expecting some backlash, a sort of bitterness and anger on your side, but this? This was a disaster.

You looked so vulnerable. Damn it, you probably are! Shoulders slumped and body shivering as your cheeks flushed red and your voice cracked each time you spoke. Ruggie thought only girls cried this hard, but he overlooked the fact that you've always been a soft hearted person, you always seemed to be a bit more sensitive compared to most.

And for fuck's sake, boys cry and get hurt too.

Guilt was slapping him hard on the face, and it stung like the time he was affected by Leona's unique magic. Had he hurt you this bad? He didn't know you liked him this much to allow him to dishevel you in this manner.

Or maybe he did know and he was just being a jerk.

"____,please don't cry. I can't talk to you like this if you keep crying. Hey,here take this"

He took a small handkerchief and wiped away your tears, so gentle and tentatively, it had you staring at him as if you were looking up to some kind of caretaker.

"I know what I said was kinda shitty but I just didn't know how to react. We're both boys so it was pretty off course when you said you liked me...and that made me freak out"

God, why was he mumbling?

"Thing is I never thought anyone would like a nobody like me,okay? I come from a dump, probably would've stayed there if I didn't get enrolled here and girls back home always liked the bigger guys,the ones like Leona or Jack"

"You're better off being with someone else,that's what I wanted to say, what I wanted to tell you that day"

Ruggie was holding up your face with both his hands now, and for once, you actually saw how hurt he was by his own words, how vulnerable he looked.

You were sniffling and breathing hard, unable to actually talk, but when Ruggie's expression turned into a painfully tight one and he suddenly engulfed you in a hug. You swore your heart stopped.

"R-Ruggie..?"

"Shut up."

He was so close to you then, the way his voice sounded was like a growl and you clamped your lips shut.

"I'm a fucking loser,____." Ruggie said, through gritted teeth. "That's something I had to come to terms with a long time ago, and you getting hurt like this is proof of it. Even now, I'm just talking about myself. I didn't even say sorry. Don't you see that? I lashed out on you cause you had the nerves to say you liked another guy, and I'm here still pretending I could be king."

What a heavy thing to say out loud. But, somehow it gave you strength.

Your hands gripped onto Ruggie and furiously you buried your face in his chest,aware of it taking him by surprise as you felt his body went stiff.

"I still like you." You mumbled, voice muffled. Ruggie furrowed his brows.

"What are you—"

You gripped his body harder, making him groan as you pulled him into a tighter hug. Your chest burning with clarity.

"Loser or King, I'll always like you and I'll keep saying it until you like yourself too."

You lifted your head, eyes tear stained but lips pulled into a small smile as you took in Ruggie's stunned expression.

"So you better make up for being a jerk and make me fall for you again."