#beautiful monsters header

[bm-beautifulmen-atw]

BM (BEAUTIFUL MEN) ATW (AROUND THE WORLD)

COOPER KOCH, AMERICAN

NICHOLAS ALEXANDER CHAVEZ, AMERICAN

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔

🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️

summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?

warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him. 

The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman. 

Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway. 

“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.

Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”

Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”

“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind. 

Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”

Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”

The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’

Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies. 

The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!” 

You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.

You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running. 

You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”

Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes.  “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”

Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.

You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips. 

Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”

You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face. 

Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.

You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.

You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.

You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.” 

“Leave now!” 

Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”

There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?” 

“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.

As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in. 

Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud. 

“Ari.” 

“Logan.” 

“Geralt.” 

They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”

Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”

You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?” 

Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in. 

“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.

The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.

You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.

You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long. 

A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 

“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?” 

Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle. 

“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.” 

Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from? 

“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.

You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.

“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”

“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events. 

Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person. 

“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?” 

He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it. 

“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words. 

Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.

“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.

“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body. 

“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse. 

“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe. 

You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night. 

Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place. 

The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds. 

Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that. 

His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.” 

Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on. 

Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!” 

Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there. 

…

Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?” 

Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you. 

“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous. 

You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes. 

“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is. 

You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight. 

Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast. 

You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked. 

After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you. 

That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”

You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.” 

Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave. 

You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you. 

Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?

Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you. 

“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!” 

Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. “Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting. 

“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.” 

“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.” 

Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time. 

The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar. 

Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip. 

The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you. 

“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together. 

“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you. 

You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound. 

“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were. 

“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are. 

You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two. 

Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier. 

Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you. 

Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices. 

“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt. 

Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.

The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck. 

“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly. 

“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.

“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins. 

“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it. 

You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining. 

Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member. 

You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.

You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin. 

The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.

The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse. 

The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.

Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown. 

They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.  

Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed. 

You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[writersdrug]

writersdrug

Welcome to my blog!

I'm Jane :) She/They, overworked, and a writer on the side. My favorite color is midnight blue, my favorite food is Aloo Gobi, and I have a beautiful gorgeous girl named Starr 🌟 Catch me listening to Hozier and old Mr. Suicide Sheep playlists, jotting down my next written work and sipping on lime water. How busy I am and how often I post varies on my schedule, so please be patient if I haven't updated in a while. I'm most likely catching up on sleep or working!

I mostly write for Call of Duty (I say mostly because I'm open to other fandoms, but I have yet to explore). I write SFW< NSFW, light, and dark content, so please make sure to block the tag "Dead Dove Do Not Eat" if you wish to skip my darker works.

My Works

Call of Duty

König Masterlist Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

General COD Works

Comforting You During a Rough Academic Period Comforting You During Your Period "You're Being... Detained" (Phillip Graves x Reader)

Want to see general COD word vomit? Check out my tag cod blurbs!

Want to see more COD content? Drop requests here!

// All work and OC's are fictional. All rights reserved to the Call of Duty franchise. I do not own the characters portrayed in these stories. //

Things I will NOT write:

Scat or waterworks

Food play

Beastiality (monster fucking excluded)

Anal

This list may potentially get longer. If you don't see something here, feel free to ask me about it, but keep in mind it might be something I'm not willing to do, and will therefore be added to this list.

// Just because something is on this list does not mean that this blog will not contain reblogs of this kind of content. By continuing to read my blog you are agreeing that you are responsible for the media you consume. //

FOR ALL WORKS: Headers and dividers credited to @the-aesthetics-shop // MDNI strips and lines credited to @inklore

If I use a photo and cannot find the original artist (since Pinterest is full of reposts where they sometimes don't credit the original creator), please know that none of the art I use is mine. Please message me if you find the OC for an image I use and I'll credit them.

[fixated-dark-king]

Sooo, I had the amazing experience of attending a panel C.S. Pacat was part of during the Sydney Writers’ Festival on 25th May 2024. The panel was called “Creating a Monster” (with two other YA authors).

And finally a week later (because adult-ing is hard), I had time to actually go through my notes and write up some of the fascccccinating things Pacat had to say about: monsterous heroes, and villains, and enemies-to-lovers deliciousness, and queer identity!

I didn’t want to forget some of the interesting things said in this panel and thought others might be interested in hearing about them too? Please indulge the splurge. :)

(Please note that all bold headers are just my thematic summary of each section for people to jump to, not the actual question asked.)

WHAT APPEALS ABOUT ‘THE MONSTROUS’ TO PACAT:

From a technical writing standpoint, the ‘Monstrous’ is appealing because a villain will often do an act and the hero reacts to that. It gives unconscious clues to the reader that when the villain turns up, something exciting is going to happen. In that sense, villainous characters have a special sort of ever-present attention given to them (possibly because human nature is to always keep one eye on the dangerous thing that could harm you).

On a personal level: A) When queer characters are awesome but also ‘Monstrous’, Pacat says it can feel really ‘electric’ and empowering to reclaim/allow yourself to embrace the monster role that you’ve been told you fit into by society. Like in Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles where queer people are allowed to be beautiful/glittering & powerful & witty & have existential conversations about good and evil while fitting under the Monstrous label. Like heck yeh, that’s cool. And B) as an author, you can feel a ‘minority pressure’ to have characters be Good all the time and be the perfect ambassador for that minority, but sometimes you just want to be a vampire and take over the world, you know?

THE EXISTENCE OF ‘PROTAGONIST-CENTRED MORALITY’ WITHIN THE DARK RISE BOOKS:

When pondering whether it is hard as a writer to convince readers that a Monstrous protagonist is a likeable character, Pacat pointed out that the funny thing is that the question ‘How am I going to make readers like this monster?’ never really ends up being an issue because people actually really like monsters! The thing you might not expect is that the struggle is actually: ‘How am I going to make these readers who are barracking for the protagonist feel that this ‘monster’ is actually monstrous?’

Pacat explained that when a protagonist is also a monster, it brings into play something called ‘Protagonist-Centric Morality’ -- where you bond with that protagonist and want the best for them etc, so much that it can obscure when the protagonist is actually doing something bad. Pacat mentioned that he has found the Protag-Centric Morality fairly striking in the case of the Dark Rise books because people have said to him things like: ‘The Dark King Did Nothing Wrong Ever In His Whole Life’ and Pacat questioned whether the moral centre of the story was landing somewhere different than intended. He was curious whether the other authors had experienced that with their ‘monstrous’ protagonists too.

IF A HERO IS ALSO MONSTROUS, HOW ON EARTH DO YOU DIFFERENTIATE THAT FROM THE VILLIAN? When pondering over the distinction between a Monstrous Hero and a Villain, Pacat shared some thoughts from his lived experience. He said the times when he has felt most threatened by the ‘Monstrous’ is when that person isn’t clearly identifiable to others around you; where there isn’t a shared understanding between everyone that ‘yes, that person is a monster’. Extending from that, the Truly Monstrous is when that person has some kind of control over you and control over the narrative as well; if the monster is the one telling the story but casting you as the monster. Essentially gaslighting via ‘narrative control’.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE:

This is Pacat’s absolute favourite romantic trope. And he elaborated that he doesn’t mean that in the sense of ‘these characters sort of don’t like each other’, but rather to the point where two characters really hate each other and for a very good reason. He likes when a path between two characters feels IMPOSSIBLE to overcome.

This trope was first explored in the Captive Prince trilogy and Pacat loved it so much he just had to use it again for the Dark Rise trilogy. The planning behind it for CaPri was brainstorming: ‘What is the worst thing I could think to use?’ (Answer: Killing a character’s brother, which lands the bereaved character into a set of hellish circumstances.) But that meant when Pacat decided to use it again for DR, he had to extend that to: ‘Now I need to think of something EVEN WORSE THAN THAT (CaPri)’ in order to separate the main characters. So Pacat had to spend ages thinking about what could be the absolute worst thing to use this time -- and he hopes that he came up with something that is ‘truly, truly way worse.’ Which essentially had everyone, including the moderator, laughing loudly in fear. XD

WILL KEMPEN: FOUND FAMILY & THE LONELINESS OF INAUTHENTICITY:

Pacat spent a lot of time trying to develop a really meaningful platonic friendship between Will and Violet. It meant a lot to see a friendship like that reflected on page for Pacat because some of the most important friendships of his life were across gender lines. The reception to Will and Violet has been so pleasantly surprising, so Pacat supposed he wasn’t the only one with a hunger for that kind of friendship within the romantasy genre.

Pacat also reflected on Will’s complex relationship with his Found Family -- that having the support of a Found Family can be so essential, but in Will’s case that lifeline is undermined by secrecy, turning that Found Family into a different kind of loneliness. Because the thing is: if something so immense happens to you that you feel you can’t talk about, or you feel some way about yourself but think you can’t share that with others, it means you can’t really be your authentic self. But if you’re not being you’re authentic self, who are your friends friends with? They can’t be friends with the true You; they can only be friends with a facade/with a performance. So as long as Will is scared to show his true self and remains hiding himself away from even his friends, he will be alone. It’s a hard step to take. (Note from me: so heavvvvy but poignant.)

NOT DR-RELATED, BUT PACAT’S FAV MONSTERS FROM POPULAR FICTION: Pacat was so excited to namedrop his favourite monsters from popular fiction, he volunteered to go first LOL. The answers: 'The Brat Prince' Lestat (Lestat has been on his mind a lot recently because the AMC TV portrayal captures Lestat so well & has completely rejuvenated Pacat’s 12 year-old love of vampires. Total mood); serial killers such as in the Ripley series; and simply: American Psycho.

Great panel, right? Now it’s Europe’s turn!

[harzilla]

Masterlist

header curtosy of @kiy-anna

Lost Sibling AU:

Long Lost Sibling AU

Reblog chain expanding on long lost sibling post

More Lost Sibling thoughts. Featuring Riddle, Jade, Floyd, Rollo, and Deuce

Dragon vocalization

Malleus!Yuu who sounds like their parents featuring Lilia

More Malleus and Malleus!Yuu lore

What would Malleus!Yuu look like if they hatched in Twst?

When the guy who likes you, finds out

Lilia!Yuu thoughts

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Beauty and the Beast AU

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Dungeon Monster AU

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Adopted!Yuu AU:

Yuu adopted by Crowley as an infant

Adopted!Yuu relationship with staff Featuring NRC staff and Grim

Adopted brother Malleus

Students Yuu already met Featuring Ruggie and Sebek

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Self aware AU humor

More self aware humor

~

Other twst posts:

Some Yuusonas

Yandere thoughts featuring Trey, Jade, and Jamil

Potential Twst x reader ideas. Featuring Trey, Jack, Azul, and Floyd

Love Letter Prank Featuring platonic housewardens

My Girl can wear whatever she wants meme

Ortho Shroud and Love

Fairy Godfather Malleus

Yuu overblots

[thenameswinterfics]

BOUND TO YOU

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Succubus!Reader Settings: Seven Kings Must Die Summary: Since becoming the new lord of Dunholm, Sihtric has ruled alone, with no woman at his side to call "wife". Things begin to change when you begin to appear in his dreams, a human so perfect that he believes he has finally found the one, a blessing from the gods. Little does he know that behind your appearance lies a devil in disguise. Word Count: 4,6 K Warnings: SMUT, mention of death, human/monster romance, monsterfucking, oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex. A/N: This is for my beautiful woman @sihtricfedaraaahvicius: happy birthday again my beloved, I really really hope you have a wonderful day and you enjoyed yourself. I hope you enjoy this as well, in case you can cancel me from your existence ahahaha. This story is not outlined, so if you find some confusing and rushing parts, I deeply apologise. Double apologise because this is my first time writing this kind of creature, I hope I have done them justice. A special thanks to @foxyanon for the title and to her and @zaldritzosrose for the brainstorm, the beta reading and for having a lot of patience with me.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Sihtric crossed the courtyard, one hand rubbing the bridge of his nose as he continued to fight fatigue. His eyes darted around, greeting with an absent nod of his head a few of his men who crossed his path, sighing nervously at the cold air that hit his face, making him feel more tired than relieved. 

Destiny had worked with him in a singular way, and if many years ago it made him leave his birthplace as Sihtric Kjartansson, the bastard son of Kjartan the Cruel, it allowed him to return as Sihtric of Dunholm, a man forged in blood and battle, and who stepped up to rule a fortress that he had always seen through the eyes of a slave, never a leader. 

Years had passed since Uhtred claimed his birthright over Bebbanburg, and with what little interest he had in ruling Dunholm, Sihtric became its new Jarl, without ever breaking the oath he had made to his friend and lord. And so he worked hard to make his own legacy, trying to obscure the trail of cruelty and violence his father left behind. 

All this time he had ruled Dunholm alone, without a woman at his side to support and guide him, or even to share a warm meal and a bed in his private moments. Long gone were the days when he spent all his silver seeking the company of women, longing for the love he had never received in his life: his naivety even led him to fall in love with a whore he paid all his silver for, leaving him with empty pockets and a broken heart. With the battles he had to face over the years, Sihtric never found the opportunity to bind himself to another woman.

Until you started to appear in his dreams at night. 

At first you were just a glimpse, a soft and soothing whisper that made his heart flutter in his chest, your laughter a melody carried on the wind. Each night his dreams became more vivid, and the mysterious silhouette transformed into a woman of disarming beauty, a being so perfect that she was forged by the gods. Sihtric was fascinated by you: he saw the way you carried yourself with your elegance, the way your long hair danced softly in the wind. He saw your eyes, two bright pools that sparkled with an irresistible glimpse of mischief. And he saw your smile. Oh, your beautiful smile. So warm and inviting that it relieved him of all fatigue, spreading a pleasant warmth in his chest and making his head spin with your unmistakable scent. 

Every night Sihtric would reach for your hand and lean for your touch, wanting to feel the warmth of your body as close to his. But the morning would always come, and the Dane would wake up to the reality that you were not at his side, and with an unbearable void in his heart. 

But the gods seemed to smile at him, and when Sihtric raised his eyes to see a familiar silhouette, he could hardly believe his eyes. It was as if one of Thor's lightning bolts had struck him, rendering him speechless for a moment. Sihtric's mismatched eyes blinked rapidly, trying to reconcile the image before him with the memories of the dreams that haunted him every night. 

For the first time, here you were, made of nothing but flesh and bone. He recognised the outline of your face, the way your eyes held that sparkle of mischief even as your lips curved in that warm smile that clouded his thoughts, that same intoxicating scent that made the warmth in his chest rise again and spread to his stomach. The Lord of Dunholm shook his head at first, thinking that either fatigue or Loki himself was playing with his mind. But the more he rubbed his eyes, the clearer his vision became, and you were still there, wandering about the courtyard of the fortress. 

As Sihtric gathered his courage and began to walk towards you, he was interrupted by one of his soldiers, who called him to attend to urgent matters within the fortress. Though he longed for your presence, he was still a man bound to his duties as leader, and he accepted the soldier's help by swallowing the bitter pill and disappearing behind the massive doors of the great hall. His mind was still on you, thinking that the gods had finally blessed him by sending you on his path.

Little did he know that beneath this divine appearance, there was a devil in disguise.

You arrived in Dunholm a few weeks ago, drawn by a life force so strong you could hardly ignore it. As soon as you stepped through the gates, your eyes scanned every hidden corner, licking your lips eagerly as you searched for your next prey, your body quivering with anticipation.

It was not the first time you had hunted humans: the young warriors were your favourite prey because of their high energy and strength. Draining the life force from their souls was nothing more than a sweet banquet for your evil essence, an elixir that fuelled your dark power and increased your demonic impulses.

You began by playing with their dreams, first appearing as a dark figure with a melodious voice, before revealing yourself as the most ethereal creature in the mortal world. And when you felt they were ready to receive you, you would appear before them, showing your graceful appearance and wearing the most attractive clothes. 

You learned over the years that men were easier to bend to your will; your sweet smile and the fluttering of your eyelashes attracted them like a mirror to the larks. And only when they had let down their defences would you strike, your lips capturing them in a kiss that drained the essence from their souls, their life force flowing into you like an exhilarating rush of adrenaline. As their body fell to their eternal rest, your succubus nature revealed itself in all its dark power, seeking the next prey to hunt. 

While at first the souls of young warriors were enough to satisfy your needs, your hunts became less and less satisfying, and you soon began to demand a strong life force to claim. You began to travel across England, intensifying your activities from Wessex to Mercia, from Danelaw to East Anglia, but nothing seemed to tame the beast growing inside you. And it was when you crossed the borders of Northumbria that you felt a strong and vibrant aura calling to you, and soon you found yourself living in disguise among the men of Dunholm.

There you met Sihtric, the fascinating Jarl of Dunholm, who carried himself with dignity. He was a man far too old compared to the young ones you were used to hunting, but it was his long experience on the battlefield that attracted you most, the power of his vitality telling you how much blood flowed from his hands and the wounds he had suffered. It was an irresistible force that drew you to him like an invisible string. You had to dominate him.

And so you worked like your former prey, appearing in his dreams, feeding his insatiable desire to have someone to call his wife and love to the end of his days. When your trap bore its fruit, you began to show yourself more, wandering about like a common and innocent woman. And you knew that every time you crossed the courtyards, his eyes yearned for you from afar, and a small grin formed on your face.

Sihtric would be yours, no matter what the cost.

The night was filled with a vibrant atmosphere, the dim lights of the houses illuminating the streets in warm colours that mingled with the pallor of the moonlight. Several warriors gathered outside to share mugs of ale and stories of their days, their chatter and loud laughter the only sounds of the night, along with the song of some night bird. Other soldiers were stationed on the palisades of the fortress, making sure no surprise attacks could be launched at night.

You slipped outside, out of a small door on the east wall usually used by the servants. You quietly followed the small stream until you reached a small pond not far from Dunholm, but isolated enough to give you some peace.

Normally, you would join the chaos outside, as it is one of the easiest places to find a prey, take it away from the group, work it and seduce it as you please. But tonight you didn't find yourself enjoying the noisy company of the soldiers, or company in general. You had not absorbed any life force for days, the weak auras of the young men's souls could hardly satisfy the great hunger that was growing within you, forcing you to get away from crowded places: you did not want to hunt multiple prey in the night and cause a terrible mess, preferring to work methodically and continue to keep your identity hidden. In the end, it was just you and your inner beast, desperately asking you to be fed with some powerful human elixir. 

“A gracious lady like you should not be walking around alone at this time of night,” was a deep, male voice that brought you back to reality, sensing a life force so strong as to make your head spin and your core trembling in anticipation. 

And as you turned, you recognised the voice as that of Sihtric, the Lord approaching you cautiously so as not to frighten you. You could see the moonlight illuminating his features, its pale rays gently caressing his sharp features and highlighting the scars on his forehead and cheekbones. It was indeed a charming man, his hair half shaved, half combed into plaits that revealed a tattoo that started at the side of his head and reached down to his neck. But it was his eyes that struck you most: two beautiful bicoloured irises, barely covered by his dilated pupils, looking at you with a gaze full of love and anticipation. 

“This gracious lady can defend herself against the pitfalls of the night,” you retorted back, feigning offence at his words, which were welcomed with Sihtric’s loud chuckle. "I have no desire for protection,” you continued, noticing his fingers gripping the hilt of his swords, his body tensing in alarm. 

Your words make Sihtric calm down, his body relaxed and the grip on his sword became weak. “If it is not protection what you seek, then allow me to keep you company,” the Dane politely asked you, and you took this as an opportunity to finally feed your unsatisfied hunger: never had a prey voluntarily approached you. 

“It would be an honour to spend this peaceful night with you, Lord,” you replied in a soft and soothing voice, the same tone you used in his dreams. Your voice was music to his ears and Sihtric swallowed a lump in his throat, feeling his body heat up and his cheeks turn red at your words, the lust growing inside him.

And the two of you sat by the pond, watching the moon cast a beautiful play of light on the surface of the water. There was silence at first, the air filled with a thin layer of intimacy, then a brief pause in conversation as you became accustomed to each other's presence. You told Sihtric a half-truth, concealing your true identity and introducing yourself as a traveller who had travelled far and found her next resting place in Dunholm before continuing her journey. Sihtric told you his story, of how he had escaped his father's cruelty to serve a true lord, of the endless battles, from the simplest to the most violent, that he had fought to help Uhtred reclaim Bebbanburg, of how he had become the new lord of Dunholm, ruling over a land that knew nothing but cruelty and fear. He also told you how he struggled every day with his loneliness, and how not even the company of his friends could fill that void. 

“But then I saw you in my dreams,” Sihtric continued, closing the remaining distance between you. There was a fire in his eyes, a burning desire that could tame the fiercest of the beasts and the darkest of the creatures. A chill ran down your spine, and for the very first time you felt like the prey you hunted all your life. “And I could not believe that such a perfect creature could have been created by the gods,”

You held your breath, your head spinning, for many reasons: his strong, vital strength so close to you, an inviting, tantalising temptation; his gaze, dark with desire, looking at you as if he were peering into your soul; his deep, warm voice echoing in the night, a velvet murmur that hid such a powerful force to alter your senses and awaken your hidden desires. Sihtric was nothing like the ordinary men you had seduced and drained in the past: he was an experienced warrior and a handsome man, and a great challenge that stimulated you.

Without your spirit faltering at his declaration, you raised your hand, one of your fingers tracing the contour of his throat and Adam's apple until you forced his chin up. 

“I did not think you had such a strong devotion to your gods,” you replied with a smirk, your eyes dark as well. “But I am afraid I must warn you: I am anything but what you think I am, Lord,” your voice toned down, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him close. 

Your foreheads almost touched, your scent inviting enough to cloud Sihtric's mind, the Lord of Dunholm confused but not frightened: part of him would not believe your words, but the other part wanted nothing more than to make you his, craving your touch and the way your bodies would melt together.

"No witch is a product of the gods, for you have bewitched me," he whispered, tensing slightly as the word witch escaped his lips. He leaned closer again, the temptation to taste your lips strong, but you pushed him away slightly, shaking your head with a grin. 

"I am more than a mere witch, my lord," you replied boldly, your hands intertwining in an intricate embrace, his tattooed, calloused fingers meeting the smoothness of your skin. "I am a superior being, the darkness itself. Nothing a human can control," you continued, squeezing his hand in a tight vice. The conviction in your voice soon faltered when you felt his lips brushing against your wrist, kissing your veins with a tenderness that made you feel weak. 

"Then tell me who you are," Sihtric murmured against your flesh, his lips trailing down to your forearm. "Tell me your name." 

You sneered, shaking your head as you looked at him with your piercing gaze. "My name has power, and you are not yet worthy to bear it. But I am generous today and will allow you to call me whatever you wish."

With slow, fluid movements, Sihtric's lips shook your entire arm, reached for your shoulder and nibbled gently. Then he lifted his head, your lips almost touching. 

"Then allow me to call you mine," he whispered huskily, closing the distance between you with a deep, passionate kiss.

The night air warmed with a burning heat and unspoken desire, the sound of your muffled moans and gasping breaths echoing with the songs of the owls. Your lips met again and again in fierce kisses, your tongues dancing together as you swallowed each other's moans, your hands exploring your clothed bodies. Sihtric’s hands firmly held your back, pulling you close as his mouth claimed you again, a glimpse of his life force flowing in your veins.

All rational logic gave way to the most animal thoughts, an aura of lust enveloping you as a battle of possession took place between you: the two of you teasing each other, Sihtric rubbing your pulsing and sensitive spot as the palm of your hand brushed against his arousal, your touch so seductive it made him growl in your mouth. 

Sihtric arched his head back as you took him in your mouth, your head resting between his legs as you playfully teased the tip of his length, swallowing the salty taste of the pre-cum before wrapping your lips completely around his thickness, your head bobbing up so you could take all of him. He rolled his eyes and nibbled at his lower lips as you began your slow pace, ignoring the firm grip he had on your head, a few strands of hair held in place by his fist. Enjoying your sweet torture at first, his impatience grew and forced him to act, his loud moans turning to ragged breaths and heavy grunts as he began to move his hips in a desperate motion, lust destroying any resistance and ignoring the trembling of his legs. 

He soon came, allowing you to take all he had to give. As you released him, Sihtric felt his head spin, a sudden dizziness hit him as he tried to sit down on the grass, his body suddenly heavy and drained of energy. His eyes closed quickly as he rested his head on your shoulder, falling into a deep sleep as you tended to him. 

You absently scratched his head, licking your lips as you savoured the taste of his life energy feeding your primal hunger. However, the way he made you feel, how he boldly challenged your dark nature and how well he satisfied your lustful desires made you spare him. For how long you craved for his life to amplify your powers, you could not ignore the way he made your heart feel, the thump so ferocious you thought it could escape from your rib cage. 

With the thump of your heart you could not ignore, you leaned your head and gently kissed his forehead, watching him sleeping peacefully in your arms while the spark of the attraction had ignited, destined to burn brightly. 

It was supposed to be an easy hunt, to have him at your mercy. You were supposed to weaken him with your charm and your aura, kiss him and drain him of his life force, and then resume your hunt, your hunger sated, eager to feast on your next victim. 

But in truth it was Sihtric who tamed you: from the first moment you allowed him to call you his, to the way your head turned with each of his kisses, the touch of his calloused hands so diabolically seductive, the ghost of his lips still trailing across your body. No man had ever accepted you with such devotion, nor had you ever allowed him to go beyond the boundaries of a simple brush of your lips. 

But the truth was that you liked his attentions: you loved how Sihtric was a caring and attentive partner, the way he treated you made you forget you were born as a demonic creature. He ignored the trail of victims you left behind in the past, as well as your urge to quench your hunger and have a taste of his strong life force: he would be willing to sacrifice his own life to show you how strong his love was for you. 

You allowed Sihtric to be tempted by the devil, but in return you burned yourself in the flames of his heart. Sparing his life was your greatest act of love, not a mere act of mercy, as you always told yourself.

The days passed and your secret meetings continued after that night at the pond, each time finding a secluded spot when you both craved privacy. The flames of pleasure engulfed you each night, bruising kisses and grabs mixed with strangled moans and high-pitched whimpers as you fucked each other into oblivion, both of you leaving marks on your bodies and pulling at each other's hair. And each time the two of you came in unison, Sihtric's head would collapse in your lap as he allowed you to feed on his life force every time you needed to, as you accepted his physical act of loyalty to you, to finally be loved for who you really were and not hated for being a creature from hell. 

The more time you spent together, the stronger your bond became, an invisible thread that drew you closer together: a bond forged by the forces of the underworld, a dark twist of fate that led a human and a succubus to love each other, a sinister tapestry that defied the logic of fate. 

And the strength of your bond reached its peak when Sihtric, on a cold winter's night in his room, enjoyed your company before he was forced to leave you behind. A message had come from Bebbanburg and he was to rejoin Uhtred and Finan, summoned to resolve urgent matters. He had heard that King Edward’s rule was soon to be faltered, but never could tell that things would escalate so quickly. 

You both lay down in his bed, your hands exploring each other’s curves while your lips met again in a head-spinning kiss, none of you seemed to want to say goodbye to the other. For how long you refused to admit yourself, your heart ached at the feeling of spending your days without Sihtric at your side, and the thought you could lose him on the battlefield was a death sentence even worse than spending your eternal afterlife wrapped in the flames of Hell.   

"Let me come with you," you protested weakly as his lips pressed against yours, his bare arms holding you close as he feared you might escape his embrace. You had become extremely needy of his touch, your defences so low you could hardly recognise yourself. 

“No,” was his firm reply, as he kissed the contour of your lips, trailing down to your jaw and your neck. “This is not a war I will ask you to fight on my behalf,”

He then gently pushed you down, your back resting on the furs. “I will always find a way to come back to you,”

His lips trailed down again on your neck, his touch as light as a feather as his lips kept brushing on your skin, an attempt to cool your anger and to fill your disappointment. But this time you were not fooled by his actions, and you pushed him back with firmness.

“Are you really casting me aside, Sihtric?” you hissed, pushing him back again as you felt him approaching, a regretful expression painted on his face. “You cannot me leave me behind, not after the bond we built-“

“A bond I do not intend to break because I have answered the call of the lord I’m still serving,” Sihtric interrupted you with an authoritative tone, pushing you back on bed and caging you with his body. He could see the tears forming in your eyes, a sight that breaks his heart. Never had he seen you so vulnerable, nor had you ever allowed yourself to lower your defences. 

“I swear to you, on my Thor’s hammer, that I will do everything I am called to do to survive and to return to your arms,” the Dane spoke with a low and soft voice, lowering his head so he could kiss your forehead. “For now, let me take care of you for tonight, my devil lady,” 

With a faint nod of your head, you let him close the distance, sealing with a bittersweet kiss, a soft touch that soon became a desperate embrace of two souls forced to separate for a time you both could not quantify. And for the very first time you allowed yourself to raise down your barriers, crying in his arms as he squeezed you, his mouth swallowing all your faint sobs escaping from your throat. 

It was no longer a stay at his side for his life force, despite the fact that your demonic nature would yearn with all his being. You fell in love with everything about him: for the way he looked in his eyes, for the way he touched and loved you, mostly risking his own life to tame your demonic impulses: a respect and delicacy you would never find in another man, should you ever start another hunt. 

And with the same delicacy he took you that night, your lips exploring every nook and cranny of your body, whispering sweet words and praising you softly, his tongue crossing your throat as he found his way to your breast, teasing you with his hands and mouth, pinching and sucking your hardening nipples. Soon, your sobs turned into sharp breaths and moans, trembling at how good he made you feel. 

His hand slipped down to your stomach, his thick fingers rubbing down on your pulsing core, already wet with anticipation. A loud gasp escaped your lips as you felt one of his fingers inside you, your eyes rolling back at the slow thrust of his hand, fucking you with a steady pace. Sihtric lips trailed over your neck, kissing and nibbling as he quickened the pace, his self control abandoning him completely once he felt how good your walls were clenching on his finger.

“Look at you, my sweet devil is already so tight for me,” Sihtric murmured against your lips, swallowing another loud moan with an eager kiss. “I cannot wait to see how tight you will be around my cock,” 

You muttered nonsense words, pleasure engulfing your mind as you felt your head light as well as your body, your eyes shut from the pleasure you were receiving. You felt as if your own life force was abandoning you, letting you weaken and trembling.

You whined as you felt Sihtric’s finger slowly pulling out you, frustration rising as you well ready to reach the peak of your climax. When you opened your eyes you saw Sihtric holding your hip with one hand, the other hand giving himself a few strokes on his cock, throbbing with anticipation. He entered inside you with a swift motion, an inhuman grunt escaped his throat at how deliciously tight you were around his length. He set up a rough pace, fucking you restlessly as he could not control himself anymore. Whimpers and groans were the only audible things in the room, both of you teasing each other with kisses and nibbles, you often pulling on Sihtric’s wild curls, forcing him to expose his throat and biting it eagerly, leaving visible marks on his fair skin. 

The climax between you quickly raised as you both simultaneously were reaching your peaks, and his grip on your hips became rougher.

“Yes, come for me, my devil queen,” the Dane praised you with a low groan, loving how good was ravaging, how vulnerable you were under his control. “I want you to hear you shout my name while I fill you up,”

“Sihtric,” you whispered between loud moans, and while chanting his name over and over you both reach your peak, him spilling inside you while you coming over his thick length, a blissful feeling hit both of you as you both collapsed on your bed, his strong arms wrapping you as he left soft kisses on your temple. 

And it was when he fell asleep several minutes after that your demonic form showed up, your slender fingers rubbing over his curls as you watched your lover one last time before leaving you for war.

You both know, deep in your heart, that neither death cannot break your bond. 

Because he was bound to you, and you were bound to him. 

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it!

Taglist: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

@alexagirlie @sylasthegrim @lord-aldhelm @sihtricsafin @arcielee

[crazylittlejester]

honestly, the fandom dismisses wars trauma a little too much. Have you noticed it’s always never brought up in his character studies? And when it is, it’s totally brushed off him and cia had a WEIRDDD age gap. It’s also weird hyrule warriors never acknowledges this. I honestly don’t think it’s gonna be recognized in LU but idk. It’s just weird how quickly the fandom brushed over all that. What’s your opinion? Cuz you have cool opinions lol

Disclaimer: Everything you’re about to read is my opinion and my interpretation of a game. I’m not talking about headcanons (unless otherwise specified), I’m just talking about my experience with the game and everything else. All of this is from MY perspective interacting with the canon material from both Hyrule Warriors and Linked Universe. Also! I am dyslexic, my bad for oddly autocorrected words or weird spelling mistakes

A huge reason I started yapping so much on this blog was because I saw a lot of people either actively disliking Wars, making fucking INSANE comments about his body, overly sexualizing him, or just straight up dismissing him all together and it helped me get over my posting anxiety because it genuinely made me so upset. He’s been my favorite character since only a few posts into LU (i originally liked Twilight better based sheerly on design but it took like only a few posts before that changed), and I love HW Link in general, and I thought it was actually crazy that more people didn’t like him. I’ve written several of my own characters studies on him, some of which I’ve posted, others lay trapped in my old laptop in the form of a full on analysis paper, never to see the light of day

You can send a full grown man to war and he will come back with trauma, imagine what happens when you grab some poor teenager and tell him everything relies on him. Literally forget Cia for a minute, Link as a teenager was taken and shoved into a full on war where his men turned on him and in order to survive, he had to kill. Monsters and hylians alike, it was him or them, and he’s the one who made it out. Not to mention he was constantly running all over the battle field trying to prevent the hylian captains from being defeated, and he most certainly lost many people he cared about just because he couldn’t get there in time. He had to carry around the guilt that this war was started because some sorceress was obsessed with him ON TOP of that

This was said earlier by an anon on a post I reblogged, and I’ve been saying it myself for months but I will say it again: If Warriors had been a girl and been obsessed over that same way, I fucking GUARANTEE you people would be taking it more seriously

I literally just typed in the character name and the game she’s from and that is what google had to say about her. If an older man was described as ‘harboring serious affections’ and having a ‘desire to claim’ a teenage girl I literally don’t think it would’ve been glossed over or ignored like it is

I don’t think nintendo was ever gonna elaborate or really recognize it in the game, they never go super in depth on anything in Zelda games from my experience, and I doubt Jojo will really get into it in LU mainly just because she has so much going on with eight other dudes and potentially two more (based on the header on the linked universe blog)

I saw a lot of characterizations of Warriors and opinions of him that made me so confused and also a bit mad, such that he is a womanizer or a stupid twink (of which he is neither), and that’s a huge reason I started writing fanfiction for this fandom. Firstly to just create more content for my favorite character because I rarely saw any that focused on him, and secondly because I didn’t like some (NOT ALL) of how I was seeing him characterized. (i cannot emphasize enough: NOT ALL people in the fandom characterized him this way, I saw plenty of amazing and beautiful characterizations of Warriors)

I do not think he is a womanizer at all, in fact I fully believe his flirtatious behavior is a defense mechanism. I think his ‘woman problems’ are the fact that he’s afraid of women (especially older women) he doesn’t know or trust, but also that’s just my opinion. And I am genuinely a bit worried that now that people have stopped talking about how they noticed he seemed off a few updates ago and now that they’re saying he’s back to normal that people are going to start reducing him to a stupid dramatic twink again, as if Warriors was not the one who came up with the initial plan to fight Dink and was not the first one to fight him. As if this is not a man who lead a god damn army. As if everything he’s done and everything he is no longer matters because he’s ‘pretty’

anyways I have a lot of thoughts about him in general and im just glad the fandom has been treating him better as of late, but i am a bit worried it’s just gonna go back to how it was

thanks for the ask!! sorry i got a bit carried away 😭

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

Hi, how are you? do you sleep well? how about Beelzebub, Buddha, Loki (record of ragnarok) with an agelo-like reader, like this beautiful light, eyes the color of the ocean that reflects the world's sadness, such a pretty little angel, it would be nice to see how they take care of this exhausted creature, you can childhood friends . I know it's confusing, but I wrote it from the heart. If you don't want to, you can ignore (≧∇≦)/

hii sweetie, yes is slept well, thank uu and u? i studied the whole day but now i take some time off for the reqs <3

note: i made some headers, aren't they cute ?

beelzebub

— he knew you from the beginning of his eternal-ness, but only met you again when you came back from the world. your friends, the other angels were dead by the miserable state of the people, or already up in the valhalla. not knowing where to go, you bet everything on meeting an old friend again.

— in the middle of an exploration, one of his servants disturbed him with the news that the angel named y/n fell in front of the gates of his realms. the servants only knew one angel's name, y/n, not accidentally. leaving the lifeless body, he went to guide the angel inside.

— seeing y/n weak and sad, instead of keeping distance between them like with everybody else, beelzebub bends down, slowly but surely lifting up the fallen angel into his arms. brushing her soft, golden hair like a cat's fur, he wipes the tears off of her cheek. as though he seems calm, he's seething and thinking about the most brutal monsters that he could send down to the earth as a punishment for hurting you.

— "i'm gonna heal you, y/n, don't you every worry." he says as he commands his servants to tide up a room for you. walking you to the room, placing you down on the bed, he scans your body for injuries. whenever he finds one, another idea of a gigantic, horrific monster flows into his mind... or catching the people who did this to you, and laying them onto his operating table as a new 'guinea pig', making never-ending, horrible creatures from them.

— brushing your face, you slowly lift up your arm to feel his skin. he holds your hand, kissing it, leads it into his hair to fulfill your wishes. sitting beside you, brushing your forehead and tear-stains, a servant silently brings in a plate with food and water on it.

— "are you hungry, little one?" he asks quietly. shaking your head, you just pull him close to you. "no, it's just... hurts... can you help me, beelz? i don't have anybody else who i could turn to, you are the only one who i can trust fully." at your words, his heart cramps, a feeling that he's not used to. all the hundreds of years you spent down on earth, beelzebub sometimes thought that he doesn't have a heart because of the lack of movement in his chest. laying beside you, stroking your hair, he leads his hand onto yours.

— his anger brings out the best ideas from him, and his best ideas are the worst things a mortal person could ever see in his life... as the last thing they see before they die. beelzebub tortures himself into the thought that he doesn't even want to make tests on them; he just wants to make them suffer for hundreds of year, when they beg for him to just simply end their life and tear their souls.

— "of course i can help you, little angel. but you gotta tell me," healing you is going to be easy or difficult, he didn't care. but in his eyes, those morons' suffer gonna give your pleasure. that's why he said to brunhilde that beside adamas, he was the other who wanted to end the humankind the most. hugging you closer to his chest, he whispered, ready for the hunt of those who hurt you,

"who did this to you?"

buddha

— he could see from the doorframe that his little angel had a bad day. seeing you lay in your common bed curling into yourself like a baby, only your hair flowing out from under the blanket, he knew it was a really, really bad day. sticking the lollipop back between his lips, he decided to help your state, walking on his side of the bed and laying down.

— "what's the matter, little angel?" he asked, not getting an answer. poking your side, he didn't get a reaction either. were you sleeping? or did you just ignore him? "don't answering, hmm? maybe i should just lift this blanket up." he continued, getting a little head-shake from you. "oh, you don't want to? okay then, you want it to be a guessing game, huh?" no answer.

— buddha knew what you went through when you were between people, and while you weren't as strong as him, you suffered well down there. he saw you first on a feast, sitting quietly beside aphrodite, scanning the people around you. when buddha looked into your eyes, it was blue like his, but not sharp, light blue eyes -your eyes were ocean blue, filled with sorrow and everything that his followers felt before he came to lead them. a lot of things happened since then, but the main thing was that he helped you from your pain, and cured your soul from the things that you survived. you were just like zerofuku, but without abilities, you took the blame and it wasn't turned into pain, you turned it into sadness.

— "are you sad, y/n?" a nod. huh, maybe it's one of those episodes when your memories just get back to you. everytime after your episodes, you were happy and cuddly, sticking to his side and clawing up to him to touch you, your face, your hair and your body like a little kitten. but when episodes came, this all went out on the window. "is it your memories?" another nod. "do you want to be alone?" you shook your head.

— you felt whole with buddha. hell, you didn't even know why he was with you, a confident, happy, calm god with a bag of sadness and nerves like you. it wasn't your looks either that could catch his attention; he could get any goddess or deity or angel in seconds without a word. sometimes when you thought about your relationship, you feared that he's with you because of pity; but in the beginning, buddha told you that he would never to that to anyone. especially not you.

— "you want me to stay here, little one?" you nod again, and he slightly lifted up the blanket, you let him see your face -your face with tear stains, your red eyes, messy eyebrows and lashes, your almost bleeding lips. buddha tutted, stroking the side of your face that was not laying on the pillow, curling up one of your goldens strands between his long fingers. "my angel, you know you can always tell me if something's wrong. you can hit up on me even in my sleep, only you."

— "i never want to hit you." you croaked, putting your head on his wide chest. hearing his heartbeat, the magical calmness and fullness of his soul always made you realize that you were in a safe place.

— "i know, little heart, i know." he hold the back of your head close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you. a nap sounded nice anyways, and when you wake up, maybe you gonna be the happy, bubbly bunch you really are -who you really were before your time on earth.

loki

— when you are sad, heart filled with sadness and sorrow from the memories you collected while being down on earth, loki sneaks up on you. he not just senses but sees on you those cruel episodes: your body is like a statue, even if you lift up one of your arm, staring into nothing, not reacting to anything. he even tricked you a couple times, making loud noises, but neither his tricks, neither the bumms and bamms did not catch your attention.

— when this happens, loki gets your favourite object in the whole valhalla; your little music player. you got it from him when you got back from earth, on a feast. picking out the best calming yet rhytmic song, he press the play button, and slowly, but surely forces you to turn around. when you groan, or just blink up at him, he wears his sweetest smile -not the scary, bloodlust one, but the smile you seeked comfort from the first time.

— "come on, angel, you can do this. a little dance never hurt anyone, didn't it?" holding up your hand, moving it aside, forcing you to take small steps with the movements. he sees the eternal pain in your eyes, but the more he sees, the more he wants to lessen it. when you stop in your movements and just lean on the sides like a ragdoll, lki sighs a little.

— "you don't like it when someone makes you do something, isn't it?" loki asks, not waiting for an asnwer, but then suddenly, he lift up your foot to be under his covered ones. this way you are closer to him, and he takes the chance to hug you. in his mind, similar to beelzebub, he just wants to trick the people who did this to you -your miserableness was the first cause why he voted on killing the entire humankind, and that's why he's gonna fight. if he wins, it's the higher chance that people never gonna hurt you anymore.

— you lean your head on his shoulder, his heart thumps a little. kissing the crown of you hair, loki swings to the sides. "there, much better, isn't it?" he just wants to search up on someone to cure your sadness, even if he's the god of mischief, he never wants you to look like on of his victims. maybe somebody in this freaking big valhalla, between the thousand and thousand gods, somebody knows a cure, or a medicine -he's not gonna have a problem with sneaking it into your food, gods, he could even take some on his tongue to give it to you when the two of you kiss.

— "it's gonna be alright, alright, don't worry." he whispers as the songs ends, another begins. it's always the others who says this when loki intrigues here and there, causing chaos. but don't worry, just as he said, your little old love, loki is gonna bring you out from his.

i began to write this yesterday, but i got exams and a math test, so i did them first. i hope you enjoyed it, and if you want to be on the taglist, just comment on this post or dm me <3

[mpchev]

hello hello! welcome to my academic blog!

my name is marie! i'm currently doing a dissertation on fanfiction bookbinding!

[updated 9/7/2024]

the original purpose of this blog was to find research participants (you can read what my call for participants looked like here — thank you so much to everyone who liked, reblogged, and/or replied!!)

i now use it to reblog/store the resources I come across on tumblr and elsewhere relating to fan studies, folklore, and ethnology, and eventually share the results of my own research. i'm also trying to document the big steps of the dissertation (which will include binding a fic!), both for the auto-ethnography aspect of it and because academia is a weird place — as a first gen uni-goer + international student, i would have loved any extra info i could've gotten my hands on before getting into this, so if that can help anyone, yay! (and if you have questions, ask away!)

tags:

# fanbinding dissertation -> for anything that's directly diss-related

# fanbinding resources -> how-to's, inspo, lists of resources

# fanbinding lit -> everything i'll hopefully have the time to read and might want to cite/reference

more about me & how i ended up here:

i’m in my 30s, white, queer (bi, genderqueer, she/they), and physically disabled.

i first studied music (i used to play the accordion!)

then translation (that’s still how i pay the bills — we do not dream of labour, but as far as labour go, that’s a pretty sweet gig)

then linguistics (words are fake and we love them <3)

and now folklore and ethnology! (yes as in tales and legends, but more broadly as in culture in context, which includes online communities and vernacular crafts, hence the lovely dissertation topic)

i was a big harry potter fan growing up (my final linguistics paper was called expecto transphobia: a study of dogwhistles on twitter, we live and we learn)(at least some of us do, looking at you joanne) and i vaguely remember enrolling in online hogwarts circa 2005 (took notes and studied for the exams and everything), but i sadly wasn’t around for the golden/cursed days of 2010s tumblr, and i only recently fell (head first) into fanfiction. started with all the young dudes, currently reading some wolfstar, some ofmd, lots of good omens, lots sandman, some tma. also trying to follow along dracula daily. and i’m halfway through a supernatural rewatch, so who knows what the future holds.

if i’m not reading (neverending tbr of academic papers, fics, scifi novels old and new, folktales anthologies, epic poetry, translated plays in beautiful metres) or working, i’m probably trying to translate beowulf in french (not enough people have, it’s a fun story with monsters and dragons, more people should!), with star trek playing in the background.

open source resources are my love language (let me know if there's anything i might help with), the internet is my happy place (thank you for your contribution), transmediality gives me warm fuzzy feelings, folksonomies are works of art, my kingdom for a good AU.

header: The Concert by Gerrit van Honthorst (1623)

pfp: Watermelon and Grapes by John F. Francis (1863)

(both taken from the open-access collection of the National Gallery of Art, Washington)

[shinigamiiieyes]

ʚ⋆♰⋆ɞ — What a beautiful way to kill someone...

ʚ⋆♰⋆ɞ — Hello everyone! My name is Misa, and this is my kin-care blog! I am 23 years old &. I use she/vamp/doll/he pronouns + many more!

Please read under the cut to see what I do &. my blacklist!

(Please refrain from using these userboxes! I made them for myself!)

WHAT I DO:

Icons [matching, pride, ect]

Layouts [Tumblr, Twitter, Discord]

Moodboards

Reply icons

Stimboards

Headers [Tumblr, Twitter, Discord]

Flag recolours

Userboxes

DNI banners

Playlists

Name / Pronoun suggestions

Rentry graphics

SOURCES:

Persona (1~5)

ENA

FNAF

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Bendy And The Ink Machine

God of War

Undertale / Deltarune

Bioshock

Monster High

Pokemon

Mario

Legend of Zelda

Sally Face

Homestuck (Hesitantly &. Critically)

Hello Charlotte

Sam & Max

Sonic The Hedgehog

Resident Evil

Minecraft

Batman

HLVRAI

Dark Deception

RPGHorror games (IB, Mad Father, ect)

DDLC

A Hat In Time

Little Nightmares

Bugsnax

Hermitcraft

Cuphead

Kirby

Goosebumps

Spider-Man

Death Note

Honkai Star Rail

+ More! (Feel free to ask! I'm willing to do some sources I'm unfamiliar with!)

BLACKLIST:

Dayshift at Freddy’s

DSMP

QSMP

One Night At Flumpty’s

MCU

Invader Zim

Dialtown

Eddsworld

Sander Sides / Thomas Sanders

Graphic created by @/lavendergalactic.

[alexagirlie]

Vamptober Part 1

AN: Part 1 for the next installment of We Dance With Monsters : Monstreous May Bonus Scene! (Masterlist)

Header by me, divider by @zaldritzosrose

Fandom: The Last Kingdom

Ship: Osferth x Sihtric

Rating: M

TW: Vampires au. Flirting. Public indecency. Biting. Minor bloodplay. M/M Sex. Not beta'd so may still contain mistakes.

Summary: Osferth and Sihtric sneak off during the feast celebrating Uhtred's ascension to High King.

Taglist: @gemini-mama @foxyanon @legitalicat @arcielee @thenameswinter99

Sihtric looked around and marvelled at the opulence and wealth on display at the feast celebrating Uhtred's ascension to High King. His hall had been decorated, large tapestries and bundles of vibrant flowers hung from the stone walls. The large wooden tables were heavy with food and drink and all the guests were happy and drunk.

Sihtric was sitting at the head table alongside his lovers and a few other honoured guests and they had all dressed their best in brand new attire. He felt like a lord, dressed in a new tunic dyed a dark, royal blue and he was wearing more gold then he had ever imagined he would own. 

His lovers were equally as resplendent in their own new clothing, his eyes constantly catching on the flashing of the golden bead Osferth had allowed him to braid into his hair or on the contrast of deep crimson fabric against Skade's beautiful, pale skin. 

He leaned against Osferth's shoulder, lips pressing teasingly against his smooth cheek and he grinned as Osferth sent him an exasperated but fond look.

Osferth was glad he couldn't blush anymore or he would be as red as a tomato as Sihtric spent the evening openly teasing Osferth. He would invade Osferth's space, no sense of appropriateness given the scrutiny they were under while seated at Uhtred's high table. The way the Dane subtly ran his hands over the baby monks' new robes under the table, fingers teasing his inner thigh, brushing over his rapidly hardening cock.

He pressed kisses and light nips of teeth to the column of Osferth's neck as he whispered absolute filth and sin into the crook of his neck. The Dane not caring at all at being observed, in fact Osferth was sure that Sihtric took great pleasure in staking his claim in front of so many guests and as the night devolved into sin and debauchery, he only got more bold. 

By this point of the evening many of the guests had taken to fornicating in dark corners, and as Sihtric pulled Osferth into his lap the young vampire finally had enough teasing and turned to face the other vampire, pressing their foreheads together intimately.

“Let's go to my chambers.”

Sihtric grinned, his fangs glinting in the fire light as he helped Osferth to his feet and pushed his chair back to stand. The two of them tried to escape the hall without comment but Osferth caught Uhtred's knowing smirk and Finan made a comment, asking where they thought they were going on such an important night, but relented when Sihtric glared at him and grabbed Osferth’s sleeve to drag Osferth away from the table. 

Amused laughter followed them out of the hall but they ignored it in their haste to finally get alone. They all but ran back to Osferth's chambers, passing amused guards and members of the household staff in their haste.

As soon as they were behind closed doors Sihtric found himself slammed against the solid wood with a loud thump. His cock throbbed in his trousers as Osferth fumbled the laces of his tunic pushing it up his muscled stomach. He groaned, head thumping back against the wood as cool hands slipped under the loosened fabric and brushed teasingly against his nipples, the sensitive flesh hardening under the pleasant touch.

Sihtric's head swam as the thick fabric was pushed all the way over his head and dropped carelessly on the floor. He moaned, as Osferth's lips wrapped around his pebbled nipple and sucked, hard with a nip of sharp teeth as he pulled away. 

Osferth licked his lips enticingly as he met Sihtric's mismatched eyes before letting out an embarrassing squeak as Sihtric unexpectedly turned them around and pressed Osferth against the door instead. 

Control swapped, the Dane flashed the younger vampire a toothy grin before he dropped to his knees. He nosed along the bulge in Osferth tunic before helping the baby monk push the long fabric up his stomach so Osferth can pull it over his head and Sihtric set to work getting his trousers open and pulled down around his knees.

Sihtric couldn't resist taking Osferth's cock into his mouth, the perfect curve of it sliding across his tongue and down his throat. He moaned around his mouthful as Oaferth's fingers wrapped in the loops of his intricate braids, gripping and pulling them, making Sihtric take his cock deeper and deeper down his throat.

Osferth moaned as the wet and tight clutch of Sihtric's throat brought him speeding towards his end but he didn't want to spend down the Danes throat, he wanted Sihtric's arse first. He pulled Sihtric off his cock, resisting the urge to fuck back in at the enticing sight his lover made. On his knees with just a thin string of saliva still connecting the weeping head of Osferth's cock with Sihtric's bottom lip.

Groaning Osferth pulled Sihtric to his feet and playfully pushed the Dane towards the bed. They finished undressing, getting their trousers and smalls off before he pressed Sihtric down on the rumbled sheets and crawled between his sprawled thighs. He kissed and bit his way across the Dane’s neck and chest, staining them both with the fresh spill of blood.

They didn't draw it out, Osferth opening Sihtric up quickly on his fingers before he gripped his cock at the base and guided it inside Sihtric's waiting body. They both groaned as his hips met the curve of Sihtric's arse and filled him so perfectly.

They fucked for hours, trading desperate kisses and bruise tight touches as Osferth kept Sihtric on the edge of spilling. Bringing him to the brink over and over making the Dane beg and plead as he was denied his pleasure.

Climax was finally granted as Sihtric laid on his back, legs thrown over Osferth’s shoulders as the younger vampire pounded into him. Osferth took Sihtric's rock hard cock in hand, pumping him at the same pace as he fucked his cock into the Dane. 

Sihtric moaned as the tight grip of Osferth's hand and the perfect angle of his cock pushed him over the edge and he spilled across his chest and stomach, moaning loud and unashamed.

The tightening grip of his body around Osferth's cock sending the baby monk over the edge as well, Sihtric groaning weakly as he felt the rush of seed painting his inner walls.

They laid there, sticky and spent as the morning dawns. Osferth rising to join the morning mass, a habit he has never broken, even after joining the vampire ranks.

He pressed a kiss to Sihtric’s bare shoulder as he rolled off the bed to clean himself up and pull on a clean white tunic. “Go wait for Finan and Lord Uhtred. Celebrate with them.”

The Dane smiled up at him before he pulled Osferth down for a proper kiss, licking the lingering taste of blood and sin from his lips.

“Enjoy your prayers.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓

🦇halloween masterlist - monsterverse masterlist🦇

warning - smut, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, knife/blade kink, oral, creampie, sort of loss of virginity?, nipple play, slut used.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The sound of thunder could be heard from within the walls, a mad scientist leant over his crafting table as he peered down at his latest creation. His monster lurked within the shadows, watching with curiosity as his creator informed him of her. Edward would finally get someone like him, someone to call his own, but he felt his stomach twist as he watched Bucky, something deep inside was telling him he wouldn’t be getting her all to himself.

Bucky moved swiftly, reaching over to his machine as he worked fast. Needing to connect it to you in time of the lightning or else it wouldn’t work. As lightning cracked throughout the night sky, Bucky pressed something against your chest, bringing you to life. You shoot up, eyes wide as your chest heaves rapidly. Your gaze darts around until it lands on the man standing in front of you, his hair wild, eyes crazed, and a shimmer catches your attention causing it to fall to his arm. Something inhuman rests there, making you feel as though he is one of you, whatever you are.

Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention and you move toward it, landing on another man. His hair darker and wilder, face scarred and what are thought to be fingers that accompany his hand are instead scissors. The sharpness of them causes you to feel a tingle between your legs, something unfamiliar, for you are new to this world. Your mouth opens and closes as you feel you want to say something, but no clue on how. The crazed man beside you jumps, causing you to follow. 

“It worked! My god, finally!” Your brows furrow, wondering what he means. His eyes connect with yours and you feel a flutter in your stomach, the feeling foreign, but so is everything else. “Welcome to the land of the living, doll.” His smile does something to you, making you feel as though you owe your life to him, but a grunt interrupts those thoughts. 

Edward lurks forward, eyes wide and innocent looking, but something darker hides between. “Mine.” His grunt brings back those strange feelings between your thighs, causing you to squeeze them together. He looks toward his creator, repeating. “Mine!” No hint of a question can be heard. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, ignoring his monster and eyeing you. He did in fact create you for Edward but seeing you now. So beautiful, so unknowing. It did something to him, could he really give you up? You were his creation after all. His silver arm moves forward to brush against your soft skin but is brutally slapped away by another. 

“No touch. Mine.” You were confused, but also something else. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but seeing two men openly make it known they want you, did something to your insides. 

“H–h–el–lo...?” You try and speak, your words come out broken. Your brows furrow and head tilts wondering if you had said that correctly, two sets of eyes watching you. You try again, “he–l–lo?” It felt like you were improving, and with the smile that was making it’s way onto the crazed mans face, you decided to try it one more time. “Hello...?” 

Bucky jumps again, clapping. “Brilliant! Just brilliant, doll! You sure learned a lot faster than Edward here.” He cackles, throwing his head back. Edward? So that was the scarred man’s name, your eyes fell onto him as you thought, and you noticed his cheeks turning a sickly pink colour. Was that normal? Bucky returns to somewhat normal for a crazy scientist and looks back down at you. “Right, where are my manners? I’m Bucky Frankenstein, I am the one that created you and Edward here.” He leans forward and there’s a weird thumping in your chest. “What would you like to be named, doll?” 

You think, not really knowing any name, but one does appear in your mind as if it’s an echo, a sign. Your mouth opens again, and you softly reply. “Y/n… My name.” Bucky beams and Edward nods with approval.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He winks, ignoring the glare from the other. Bucky holds his arm out, helping you off the table. “Come, I.” A throat clears. “We shall show you around and once you get comfortable, you can decide which of us you would rather.” It seemed quite mean, for him to make you choose when you didn’t even know yourself yet. They showed you around before leading you to your room and leaving you to get comfortable, for they would want answers later. 

A week had passed since Bucky had brought you to life, you had learnt more by going down to the library or listening to the stories he would tell. Your speech was improving, and you felt happier but there was one thing you were dreading and that was deciding between the two men. You couldn’t choose, they both had different things you loved, Bucky with his knowledge and Edward with his affection. You knew you were created for Edward, and that should’ve made your decision easier. But something in your gut was pulling you toward Bucky, knowing that even if you did choose Edward, he wouldn’t let you go. 

The dreaded day had come, you had walked into the library, wearing a new dress Edward had gotten you. (More like stolen, but the gesture was sweet.) You halted in your tracks as you noticed Bucky and Edward standing there, a wild look in the formers eyes and a soft in the latter's. “Hello...” 

“My dear doll. The day has come, do you have an answer for us?” Your palms felt sweaty, and your heart pounded in your chest, you had learnt these were nerves. You look between them, your mouth opening and closing, your chest feeling tighter and tighter as it becomes hard to breathe.

“Is okay.” Edward grunts, nodding. “Pick him.” He begins to step away and finally it was no longer hard to breathe, instead you felt sadness erupt throughout you and tears brimming your eyes. This is why you didn’t want to choose, you wanted them both, but they never made that an option, so you pushed it away. 

“I–I can’t… I don’t want to decide!” As dramatic as ever, you run after declaring that and as if it were a Disney film, you ran into your room and drastically flopped onto your bed, burying your face into your pillow. 

Bucky shakes his head, gesturing to Edward to follow as they make their way to your room. To be honest, he was never going to make you pick one. He was insane, he wanted to mess with everyone and everything. Bucky wanted to drive you to your breaking point, so you had no choice to agree to sharing, he had planned everything to a T. As he and Edward entered your room and your cries filled their ears, he felt his cock twitch. Ah, that wonderful feeling that he hadn’t felt for so long until you came along. A feeling you gave him every time you entered the room, spoke, even existed. The amount of times he wanted to bend you over the library table and pound his thick cock into you was driving him even more insane. 

“Doll, it’s okay.” He shoved those thoughts aside as he and Edward sat beside you on the bed. “You don’t have to decide, we’ll do it for you if you allow us.” His hand rests on your upper thigh, so close to the spot you all wanted to be touched/touch. Your head lifted from the soft pillow, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. Unknowingly causing their cocks to harden and twitch. “Will you let us share you, doll?” You nod, not being able to speak with how overwhelmed you feel. 

Edward’s hand slowly moves up your body, the feel of his blades and the coldness they bring cause you to clench around nothing. It’s as though he knows how you feel about them because he begins to taunt you, dragging them even slower, pressing the tips into you soft enough to not break skin. “Mine… Ours.” He corrects himself, smiling gently down at you as you whimper beneath them. With quick movement, the dress splits from the middle and falls delicately to the sides, exposing your bare breasts to them. “Beautiful…” 

Bucky groans, ruining the soft moment between you two as he roughly reaches over and fondles your soft flesh. His fingers brush against your nipples, flicking and rubbing them until you are a whimpering mess beneath him. Your mind is cloudy as he touches you, pleasure exploding throughout your body. “Such a perfect creation. My pretty doll.” Bucky groans, leaning down and taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before sucking, causing your back to arch. 

Edward moves softly, pressing and running his blades all over your body as he watches your reactions. His eyes latched onto your glistening cunt, feeling his pants tighten as your juices begin to leak from your pretty hole. With slow and gentle movements, he brings his hand down to between your legs, experimenting as he presses the flat side of his blade against your puffy clit, enjoying the soft mewls that fall from your lips. Your hands fly out and clutch Bucky, tightening your grip as they continue to bring you pleasure. 

Bucky pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to follow as his eyes move down your body and glares at Edward’s hand. “Switch.” Without a fight, Edward slowly moves away with a pout until his gaze locks onto your juices that cover his finger replacements. You watch as he brings them to his mouth, eyes locked with yours as he licks it clean. You let out a soft moan, your hooded eyes watch as they move, switching places. “Good. You got her all ready for me.” Bucky speaks with a groan. You let out a gasp as Bucky rubs your swollen clit, making you wetter if that was even possible. 

Your hands lift as you decide to help Edward with his pants, needing to feel him in your mouth, taste him. See if he is as sweet as he seems. You move swiftly, moaning when you finally free his hardened cock. Your mouth falls open and you quickly latch onto his leaking tip, not wasting anytime as you begin to suck. Edward’s head falls back, whimpers escaping him, never having experienced this kind of pleasure before, Edward didn’t know what to do except dig his blades into the mattress. Your mouth so skilful as if Bucky himself made it that way. 

Bucky watches with heated eyes as you suck the soul out of his monster. His hands fall to his pants and immediately takes himself out, groaning as he wraps his hand around his thick, throbbing member, giving it a squeeze before slowly beginning to stroke it. “You’re doing so good, doll. A natural slut. One made for us.” He growls before laughing as he realises you were literally made for them, lining his swollen tip up against your sopping entrance, he groans as he slowly pushes in. Your walls squeeze him tightly, pulsating around him as he begins to thrust in and out. 

You moan around Edward, eyes crossing as Bucky fucks hard and fast into you. Your cheeks suck in, sucking him harder and swirling your tongue around his leaking tip. Your head bobs up and down, Bucky pounds into you. His hands grip your hips, balls slapping against your arse. Edward whines, his hips begin to jerk, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth and hitting your throat as he feels his orgasm approaching. 

“G–gonna… So close!” He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as spurts of cum shoot out of him. You moan softly, swallowing his cum and finally finding out that he was sweet both inside out and out. He slips out of you and sags into your bed, watching you with a happy look in his eyes. 

Your moans are loud, bouncing off the walls as Bucky pulls you closer to him. His cock slides in and out of you roughly, a ring of white coating his base which each movement. Fingers gripping your flesh so hard, it’ll leave bruises in the morning. Your hands grip the sheets, fingers and toes curling as your back arches from the bed and your juices squirt out of you, covering your creator. Bucky groans, leaning over your body as he thrusts a few more times before releasing thick spurts of cum deep into you, coating your walls with white. 

He leans back, peering down at you and pushes your hair out of your face. “Such a good doll for us.” The smile he gives is almost wicked, suited for a crazed man. Edward curls toward the two of you, carefully placing his arm around you as you all begin to drift off into a blissful sleep. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[fairy-verse]

Once upon a time...

…there was a land filled with beauty and magic. Here there were no great cities, only small villages nestled between hills, mountains, valleys, and meadows. It is a fair and quiet land, and it is the only place you will find fairies and other magical creatures of various kinds.

━━━━━ ✧.* ━━━━━

Here is the Map of Fairy Island.

━━━━━ ✧.* ━━━━━

Fairyverse is created by valacre & lunnar-chan. I, Valacre, have created the concept ideas and am writing the lore and the stories for it. Dii has created the fairy designs and has helped me with the lore itself by coming up with suggestions and ideas of her own.

━━━━━ ✧.* ━━━━━

Nightmare 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Ink 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Error 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Lust/Rosa 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Dream 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Killer 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Cross 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Horror 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Dust 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Nightlight 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

━━━━━ ✧.* ━━━━━

The world of Fairyverse is set in medieval-esque times.

Light and dark fantasy themes will be found here.

━━━━━ ✧.* ━━━━━

The Firstborn fairies are those who came before all, and they rule their own respective seasons within the Island of the Fairies.

They are – Dream, the firstborn fairy of summer. Nightmare, the firstborn fairy of autumn. Error, the firstborn fairy of winter. And Ink, the firstborn fairy of spring.

Coming after the Firstborn are the season fairies. They are born in the image of their respective firstborn, bearing characteristics not only from them but also from their hopes and dreams. They are their loyal followers. They are all Sans variants.

They are – The summer fairies, the autumn fairies, the winter fairies, and the spring fairies.

Also known as – The butterfly fairies, the mystical fairies, the moth fairies, and the dragonfly fairies.

The Firstborn and their season fairies reside on the western side of Fairy Island, but they are not the only fairy types that exist here. There are also – Monster fairies (Papyrus variants, Toriel variants, Undyne variants, Temmie variants, etc…), and Human fairies/Fae (resembling humans, often with blackened or iridescent eyes, brought to life by Ink and a human woman.)

There is also the Big Folk that has settled down on most of the eastern side of Fairy Island. These are regular humans and monsters who travelled over the waters to find new and peaceful lands to live on. A few of them hunt fairies (specifically season fairies) for their wings, blood, and bodies. The Big Folk that lives close to the Great Forest (Ink’s domain) are often victims of spring fairy bites, and while they believe these bites cause them to go temporarily insane, they are, in fact, filled with extra magic that makes them able to hear the trees talk, see the bees dance, and feel the winds collect their individual stories.

Other creatures that live on Fairy Island include – The small people/monsters (the same size as fairies but lack any sort of wings. They usually live in hollowed-out trees with tiny doors and windows), the mushroom people (born from residual magic dropped by the fairies, they wander along the forest floor on stumpy legs. They make soft squeaks, but no one knows if they are intelligent or not. Often used as pets by fairies), gnomes (the same size as fairies and wear tall, pointy hats of either red, blue, or green that cover their eyes. They live underground and are only active during winter), stonemen (resembling boulders and mountains, these are gentle giants that often remain asleep for most of their lives. They are immortal unless anyone chips them away), trolls (vicious and dangerous, they live in caves and underground shelters during the day and come out at night to hunt whatever they can lay their hands on, including fairies and Big Folk alike), and finally, the elusive flower people (little is known about them. They live on the Isle of Luna, south-east of Fairy Island.)

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⤑ General Fairy Info

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The image used as this blog's avatar and as the header image is made by @lunnar-chan, whilst the image used in the sidebar is made by @comyet.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼

[schrodingers-romy]

Author's Note

Alternate title of this event: Girl (gender-neutral) I'm trying. There was no way I would be able to complete a whole kinktober in one month, but seeing other people's events made me want to join in so *jazz hands* I made this! Note I will do my best to post on time but I also might just fail so please be nice to me! I'm trying! This is just me having fun lol. Dividers + template for mdni banner from the lovely @cafekitsune, header by me.

Event Info

Each oneshot will include creature!character x reader, and all will include smut. Fics should each be around 1k-5k words. (Some may be longer.) Masterlist and dates will be included below the cut, and fics will be linked when they are posted with a star next to them. More detailed summaries/warnings will be included on individual fics. If you would like to be tagged for a certain fic/fics , shoot me an ask or a message! :)

Masterlist

✵ October 1st | Mer | Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

After a mysterious ocean creature saves you, you have the chance to help him in return.

✵ October 6th | Monster Under the Bed | Choso x Reader

The creature under your bed has been watching you for a long time...waiting...

✵ October 11th | Demon | Usagiyama Rumi x Reader

You somehow end up as the sacrifice for an incompetent cult. The demon they summon is not at all what they nor you expected.

October 16th | Ghost | Nanami Kento x Reader [DELAYED UNTIL NOVEMBER]

October 21st | Vampire | Nakime x Reader

Your new house is quite...eccentric. Strange occurances keep happening, and they might be connected to the house's old owner, a handsome man whose portrait resides in the attic.

ANNOUNCEMENT

The woman's music is so ethereal you can't help but be drawn to her. You can't believe someone human could make music so beautiful. Turns out, she's not so human after all.

October 26th | Angel | Gojo Satoru x Reader

Your guardian angel is terrifying...yet beautiful. It can't be so bad that your soul belongs to him.

October 31st | Werewolves | Uchiha Obito x Hatake Kakashi x Reader

Both you and your husband Kakashi believe Kakashi's old mate, Obito, is dead. When Obito turns up changed but alive, you realize Kakashi never fell out of love with him. It's a good thing you're falling for Obito too.

[saintsofwarding]

WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Header by @trout-scout

Chapter 14: A Mirror

By the time the oncoming blizzard began to swirl over the sun, as if hiding its face in fear from the land below, Rose caught her first sight of the village.

It spread before them, surrounded on all sides by mountains, a protective wall of them cupping the valley like a pair of hands. She saw Castle Dimitrescu first; impossible not to, the structure stabbing itself from the landscape as if to claim the sky itself. In the morning light, the castle's spires glittered like the towers of that long-destroyed crystal city of Heisenberg's bedtime stories.

Rose stared, breathless, from Dimitrescu's back even as clouds skimmed her cheeks, soaking her hair. She and Donna were hunched low over Dimitrescu's pulsating flesh, and still the wind tore tears from her eyes and ripped at her skin like knives.

Before them the castle rose from its nest of mountains, of mist, magnificent and Gothic, something from a dream, or a nightmare.

Rose wasn't yet sure which.

"To hell with this blizzard," Dimitrescu snarled, her wingbeats churning at the clouds as a swirl of snow obscured their first sight of the castle. Rose felt the wind judder at her, so strong it tossed even her around. "I must make a landing."

"Fine by me," Rose called, but wasn't sure if Dimitrescu heard her.

She veered downward with a thrum of displaced air. Clouds rose around them, and as they broke through the dense layer, the ground burst into view, a dizzying spin of forest and mountain. The trees rose around them, and with a powerful backbeat that scattered snow and ripped pine needles from their boughs, Dimitrescu settled to all fours in a small clearing.

Rose half-fell off her back, legs cramping and frozen; she limped over to a tree to lean and wince. Behind her came the crack and growl of Dimitrescu's transformation, the air full of the powerful reek of blood and mutagen. By the time Rose turned back round, Dimitrescu knelt in the snow, breathing hard, rubbing her muscular arms.

"Is everything okay?" Rose asked her. Donna and Angie were speaking to one another in soft tones. Well- Donna's tone was soft, anyway. Angie seemed to be on par with a chihuahua in terms of lack of inside voice.

"I have been without blood for far too long," Dimitrescu muttered. Her eyes glowed golden beneath her sooty lashes; her face seemed gaunter than it had looked on the mountainside, dark circles cutting under those beautiful eyes. "In my hibernation, my body went into stasis, but now...after my transformation..."

Her eyes flicked up, meeting Rose's. "You smell far too delicious for safety, sweet child."

"Please don't eat me," Rose said.

She smiled. "Fortunately for you," she said, "I can control my urges..."

She lifted a hand and, delicately, drew her finger along Rose's jaw, ending, poised, just above the pulse point of her throat. "...For a time."

She rose to her full height as Donna and Angie approached.

"You hear that racket?" Angie said.

"The rush of water," Dimitrescu said.

She was right. Rose could hear it above the howl of the thickening blizzard, the snowy wind gusting in ripples and waves through the forest, like the sea in storm. Some kind of huge river?

"We're not too far from House Beneviento!" Angie crowed. "Home sweet home! Donna, you remember all the crazy stuff we got up to in there?"

Donna pressed her lips together.

"Anyway, we got all kinds of stuff all stored up in there. Get some better clothes than these nasty BSAA rags we're sporting. What do you say?"

"I've looked a shameful mess for far too long," Dimitrescu said.

"Yeah, we could use a place to rest and plan," Rose said.

Dimitrescu faced downhill, her head lifted. "Not for long," she murmured. "I need to regain my castle. To see what horrors time has wrought upon it. "

She made a scathing sound in her throat. "And to see how the elements have destroyed my beautiful home. If I ever see Redfield again, not even your promises will be enough to stop me from peeling him apart layer by layer."

"Let's..." Rose's teeth began to chatter. "Let's focus on the now, okay?"

"This way!" Angie called from the edge of the clearing, she and Donna already within the reaching shadows of the trees. "Over the river and through the woods...watch out for wolves, heh heh heh..."

Rose picked herself up and limped after them, Dimitrescu just behind her, filling the air with the faint tang of blood, the scent seemingly clinging to her inevitably.

The trees passed by, the wind dying down as they descended into the woods, scaly-barked pines transitioning to deciduous trees, twisted limbs entwined in a dense, frozen canopy overhead. Soon, the only sound was the crunch of their footsteps in the snow, Angie's low muttering, and a distant, thunderous roar, a vibration Rose felt in the soles of her feet.

Shapes swam through the fog, resolving into a collection of dilapidated buildings- sheds, Rose guessed, eyeing the clutter of equipment outside, the ruinous, frozen black rot inside of what appeared to have once been bags of potting soil.

A long string of bones clacked softly from a corner of the roof, stirred each time the breeze whispered through the forest.

She climbed over a collapsed fence after Donna. More shapes, more strange sights in the fog. Tripod trellises overgrown with a tangle of mutant plants, vines grown thick and ropy and strangling, the icy remnants of blue blossoms clinging to life. Wrought-iron fences, more outbuildings, gates standing askew, their bars warped and rusted by more than a decade of exposure to the elements.

A garden, Rose thought. Made sense- if Donna's powers relied on plants, then she'd want to cultivate as many as possible. Looking at the care with which this place had once been tended, though, she suspected it was more than for practicality's sake. There was an arboretum in one of the cities she'd lived in over the years, and this place reminded her of that long-ago garden. She'd gotten herself lost on the class field trip, and instead of getting scared, had wandered for hours through the trees, the paths unfurling before her, meandering and mesmerizing.

She glanced at Donna up ahead, but aside from a certain stiffness to her shoulders, she gave no indication of how she felt about being in this garden again.

A chill crawled through Rose's nerves as she caught sight of the first grave.

It rose from the snow beneath a tree, hung with yet more of those strange bone charms. A cracked, water-stained headstone, its engraving once-ornate, now illegible. Rose sensed a strange consciousness from it, a sleeping, hibernating energy, and stayed the hell away; even with Lady Dimitrescu at her back, she didn't want anything popping out and gnawing off her face.

"Such a tawdry little place," Dimitrescu muttered, looking around at the garden as they headed for a large iron gate on the far side. "Miranda always spoke at length to me about the one-time power and influence of the Family Beneviento. Nothing compared to House Dimitrescu, of course, but..." She tutted her tongue. "I'd expect more from nobility."

"I made do," Donna said simply, quietly.

"Made do," Dimitrescu echoed, as if this went against the foundations of her reality. "Can you imagine."

The gate came open with the squeal of rusted hinges, and they stepped down a short incline and into another clearing. In its center, a massive gravestone rose from a thicket of smaller graves, now so heaped with snow the foundations of the graves were almost completely buried. The big grave was taller than Rose, intricately, lovingly carved, the words on it mostly illegible, like the others. Rose only caught a few. Freed, bonds. Valley, death.

Donna lowered her head and moved right past it, but Rose lingered, climbing carefully between the graves to kneel and clear snow off the dais before the big stone. A cracked slab set into its surface read Claudia Beneviento, with a date of birth and of death.

Claudia.

Her throat stung. Donna's sister. This, she realized, was the girl Heisenberg had spoken of, so many years ago. The dead child, the girl he'd failed to save, in whose death he'd had a heavy hand. The one he'd loved like a daughter, or as close to that as he was capable.

She pressed her hand to the cold stone, but unlike the other grave, there was nothing beneath it. No pulse, no sleeping presence. Claudia was gone. There was no getting her back.

Maybe that was why Donna had hurried past without a second look. To stop here, to linger, was to relive again her failures. She'd had a hand in Claudia's death, too, or at least believed she did. In the end, Miranda was dead, and Donna was alive, and there was no one left to blame than herself.

A shadow fell over her. She looked up to find Dimitrescu standing just beyond the graves, her lashes lowered, her expression unreadable.

"Death is inevitable, child," she said. "Even to us. Whatever you seek to resurrect here...will never be what you most desire. Not truly."

A smile unfurled across her face, bitter and so flush with longing Rose felt its ache deep in her own chest.

"There's always a price for resurrection," Dimitrescu said, and moved on, after Donna.

With a last look at the child's grave, Rose followed them.

Before she joined them in the elevator, visible inside the open doors of the red gatehouse on the far side of the clearing, Rose paused. Something in her mind, Heisenberg's dreams, the memories to which he'd so fiercely clung despite Miranda's efforts to excise them.

The little compass came out of the sword with a clean snap of breaking metal. She returned to the grave and set it down, next to the frost-burnt flowers, the remains of what must have once been dolls, lumps of candle-wax.

It glittered, there, too new for this place, and yet still a promise to herself. A reminder. That even through hatred, and pain, suffering and manipulation, years of servitude and broken identity, once there was something good here. Once there had been love here. And there would be again, in some form, still undying.

***

The house rose from the mist of the great waterfall, a massive cataract flung from some shadowy source higher up the mountainside. A pretty house, with high peaked roofs now chewed with holes, a big wrap-around porch now overgrown with snow and creepers. As they approached, Rose heard the whistle of wind through a broken window.

With a shove and the crackle of breaking ice, Dimitrescu shoved the front doors wide. Darkness yawned within, the smell of damp, a silence, stifling; she ducked inside and strode into the darkness, but Rose lingered on the threshold, Donna by her side. She'd removed Angie from her backpack and cradled her in her arms, her one eye and Angie's three staring ahead into the house entryway.

"Together?" Rose whispered.

Donna gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Together, then. And it was together they entered, and together they moved about the room inside, its mezzanine level and its damp-ruined wood paneling, searching for lamps, closing shutters over the broken windows.

Somehow, Donna coaxed a couple lamps to light; the electricity was still running, the ancient wiring intact. The glow filled the hall with strange, leaping shadows, illuminating the dozens of scattered dolls and upturned chairs, the snow piling in corners, the icicles hanging from the distant ceiling.

A large framed portrait hung by the stairs was almost obscured by black mold, but Rose could still make out the faint shadows of forms on the canvas.

A Beneviento ancestor? Impossible to tell.

"I will make a fire," Donna said quietly. She pushed through a doorway and into a room beyond.

"I'm not staying in here," Dimitrescu said, her eyes sweeping the dilapidated hall. She had to bend almost double to wedge herself through the door, after Donna.

Rose stayed where she was. This place...again, that sting of familiarity, of knowledge. Once, those mold-scabbed wood panels had glowed with syrup light; once, music had echoed from the house's depths, scratchy and old-fashioned.

Take this. Keep it safe. And keep him occupied. Glory to me, child, remember that.

A flutter of yellow petals, as if blown in some phantom wind.

The dolls' eyes glittered from shelves and cabinets, watching her.

Rose stepped forward. A floorboard creaked on the stairs; she looked round, but the staircase was empty, the darkness unbroken.

You came here...

A glow of golden light off pale hands, clutching a rectangular flask to her heart.

Another pair of hands, bloodied and battered, three fingers sprouted from gory bandages, clutching that same flask as if it was the most important thing in the world.

And who are you now?

"Rose?"

The voice echoed from the dark. Rose whirled. The doorway, like the stairs, stood empty, the hallway beyond ordinary save for a smear of dried blood on the walls, black with age and furred with dust.

Pain sheared through her skull, rusty metal screaming in her ears-

She gave a cry, stumbling forward, but the pain was gone in an instant, leaving her ears ringing, her mouth dry. Movement flickered in the dark, the trace of a tan jacket, the glint of fair hair.

"Rose," came the voice again, soft and sing-song, as if calling her to bed.

"Dad?" Rose whispered.

Oh, god, was he alive? Had he regenerated like Dimitrescu, had he been here all these years? She stumbled after him; her heart pounded. She made it down the hallway. Footprints dragged through the dust, leading her on.

"Dad!" Rose cried. "Come back- it's me- I've come to save you-"

She rounded a corner and jerked to a halt. An old-fashioned elevator stood before her, its lights on, a grille stretched over its entrance. As she watched, the elevator itself rose back into position, like it had just gotten done conveying someone down.

She yanked the grille back; it slid aside with the slick whisper of well-oiled joints. The elevator interior was clean, like the lift in a fancy hotel, its wallpaper unmarked by the years, its brass fixtures glowing warmly in the overhead light. Rose climbed in and jabbed the button, her breathing feverish, sweat prickling in her hairline.

"Come on," she said. "Come on."

The elevator began to slide downward. Down, and down, and down; it couldn't be this far, could it? An eternity of brick wall, of flickering lights, of her own pulse, overloud in her ears. At last a line of light grew upwards from her feet, and the elevator shuddered to a halt.

Past a small, cozy entryway room, the hallways stretched, bland and beige, beyond. "Dad!" Rose cried. Her voice rang through the darkness, away and away. "Dad!"

She ran. The world seemed to fuzz and reform around her; dolls' eyes glittered, like crows' eyes, like stones at the bottom of a deep, deep well. She whirled round a corner and the wall before her pulsated, a stretch of translucent jelly-pink throbbing with veins.

The Embryo? No, no, no- she stretched a trembling hand forward to touch the flesh of God itself-

It was gone. Flash. She tottered back. The silence fell around her like a dropped shroud.

Rose stood, raking in deep breaths. Behind her, a soft footfall came on the carpeted floor.

She turned.

Shadows fanned on the walls around her: the shadows of outspread wings. He stood at the far end of the hallway, backlit, his face in shadow.

"Rose," he said, his voice full of relief. "I found you, I finally-"

"You were too late."

The voice tore from her own throat, cold and measured. The shadows stretched, reaching for her father; he backed off, mangled hands raised, but she was striding toward him, breaking into a run, lunging for him with a shriek of laughter; her hand snapped around his neck, and this close she saw how much she looked like him; those were her eyes, too, and there was not fear in them, but relief, still, relief-

She ripped into him with her teeth. He crumbled under her bite, hard and sharp-edged. Crystal fragments rained from her mouth as she tore her head back, taking half his face off. The wound wasn't flesh and blood, but crystal, broken crystal-

"Too late for her," Rose- Miranda- both of them cried. Another bite; another. "Too late for you." He collapsed to his knees, and still he stared at her, watching her with love in his eyes even as she tore him to pieces. "Too late for all of them!" She fastened her teeth around the hard, polished globe of his right eyeball, and with a wrench of her head-

***

Darkness fell. She slammed to her hands and knees. Her mouth tasted bitter, edged with something like flowers, as if she'd been drinking perfume. She coughed; black fluid spattered the faded, damp-spotted carpet. The air smelled of mold, real mold, a place left to mildew for years in the dark and the cold.

Rose lifted her hands; they quivered. "What the..." she said, but she couldn't go on.

"I'm so sorry."

She looked up. Down the grimy, dank little corridor stood Donna, holding Angie like a ventriloquist's doll. She'd changed clothes. Instead of the practical gear Chris had provided her, she now wore severe, old-fashioned black taffeta, a long skirt and bodice with puffed sleeves. Her eye patch was gone, her Cadou scarring exposed.

It writhed a little as Rose watched, Donna's dark eye sorrowful.

"It must have lingered," Donna went on. "From before."

"That was you?" Rose sputtered. She thought of what Chris had said- she's a puppeteer, a manipulator. "That was...all you?"

Donna nodded, then looked down, averting her eyes.

"You made me see that?" Rose cried.

"My power...only makes mirrors," Donna murmured. "Whatever you saw was you."

Rose stared at her, tension welling in her throat. Chris wouldn't trust her. Chris wouldn't take this. Heisenberg...god, she didn't know, she missed him, she wanted him back so bad it hurt. She pressed her hands over her face.

"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered.

This time, it was Donna's turn to comfort her. She heard the rustle of fabric, Donna's strange, detached, cold presence.

A pause-

Then a cool hand settled on her shoulder, so light she barely felt it.

"I'm sorry," Donna whispered. "I see them too."

"Are they always bad?"

Donna said nothing.

"The visions, I mean," Rose pressed. "Are they always...bad? Can't they be...can't they be good things?"

"I...do not know." She paused. "Perhaps."

Rose nodded. She sniffled. "Please don't..."

Donna waited.

"...Please don't tell the big, sexy vampire about this," Rose said.

She sensed Donna's smile, fragile as the frozen flowers in her garden. "That's probably for the best," she agreed.

***

Rose changed out of her wet clothes while Donna made tea, replacing her soaked shirt with a dry one of Donna's, embroidered cotton in a peasant style. A mirror in the washroom showed the cut Dimitrescu had given her on the cheek hadn't properly healed; a livid red slash lingered. Maybe cuts given with her claws always scarred, even on mutants? Her eyes were still dark-ringed, her hair falling in lank waves around her face. She still tasted that bitterness on the back of her tongue, lingering like a nightmare.

You aren't her. You'll never be her.

Chris wouldn't see it that way.

To hell with what Chris thinks. He's been fighting people like you his whole life.

She couldn't back down now. But why did she keep feeling the crunch of her teeth in Ethan Winters' flesh, the feeling of her tearing him apart?

Because in the hallucination, in the mirror, she'd wanted to keep going. Because in the hallucination, she'd liked it.

In the kitchen, a warm, homey central room that had escaped the worst of the elements, Donna stood by the fireplace with a copper tea-kettle and four heavy ceramic mugs, each painted with birds and flowers. Now that the fire was going the air crackled with welcome heat, banishing the gloom and the smell of damp that crept in from the rest of the house. Angie already sat at the table, propped up on cushions, her porcelain fingers tapping at the wood as if with impatience.

Rose's coat, shirt, and boots were hung up by the fire to dry. Donna must have done that, too.

"Thanks," she said, a little awkwardly.

Donna nodded, checking the contents of the kettle.

"Where's Dimitrescu?" Rose asked.

"Nosing around outdoors," Angie said. "Antsy, antsy. You'd think there was glass in her gloves. Big sister doesn't like us very much!"

"She lost her children," Donna said softly.

"Children," Angie sneered. "A matching set! Three dolls in dress-up clothes. Knock 'em down one after the next and these pretty dollies won't get back up again...!"

She cut off as the sound of footsteps echoed through the house. Moments later Dimitrescu ducked into the room, reclining with an exhale onto a green velvet divan, the only piece of furniture large enough to hold her. It groaned, antique wood and moldy velvet straining under the weight of muscle and bone and blood-clotted tissue.

"Tea?" Angie squeaked, like she hadn't just been mocking her dead daughters.

Dimitrescu gave the tea a look that any lesser being would reserve for murder. "Dust and mildew," she muttered. "I need my castle back. I need my home. Do you remember, once I made wines to make angels weep?"

"Yeah, because they tasted so nasty," Angie muttered.

Dimitrescu rounded on her. "Insolent poppet. I'll smash you apart- a little more dust in this hovel of a house could hardly hurt-

"Enough," Rose growled.

Dimitrescu lifted her chin. Angie chattered her teeth in a click-click-click of porcelain against ivory, but shut up. After a long pause, Donna brought the tea over. Rose didn't miss the wicked little smile playing around her lips.

"The only tea that wasn't stale was this sort," she said. "I hope it's all right."

"Probably full of your nauseating little mind-venom," Dimitrescu said with a wave of her hand. "Forgive me, dear sister, if I won't partake."

Rose took a long drink of the tea, the unfamiliar herbs stinging in her nose and warming the back of her throat. Cloves, she thought, and cinnamon, and something a little sweet. It cleared away the last of the brain-fog from the hallucination downstairs.

"...It isn't stale, is it?" Donna asked.

"No. No, it's good. Kind of tastes like Christmas."

Donna, Angie, and Dimitrescu all looked at her.

"Holiday," Rose amended. "Lots of, uh, pie and stuff. I guess you wouldn't know about it, would you?"

"Heisenberg would," Donna murmured. "He got out."

"So will you, after this," Rose said. "If you want."

Donna lowered her gaze, her hands clasped around her own mug. She didn't take a sip.

"You will," Rose pressed. She half-stood. "Look, we just need a plan. Dimitrescu, you were outside. Did you see anything? Any signs of Ouroboros, lycans?"

"No," she said. "But...there is something. Something in the air...in the feeling of the wind. I don't like it."

"Something wrong?"

She tilted her head back, letting the firelight play over the long, pale planes of her throat. "Let us, for all our sakes, hope not."

"We can't screw around for too long." Rose tapped at her mug with her fingertips, a quick restless drumbeat. "Those helicopters weren't far off. Now, the blizzard's gonna make it hard for them to land, but that won't delay them forever."

"What about your...companion? Jailer? Whichever he was. The man-thing." Dimitrescu's lip curled in disgust.

"Chris..." She didn't want to think about him. He'd have to hunt her down now, she knew. He'd have to. She'd crossed a line in a big way, and no amount of shared history, or shared misery, would allow him with all his duties and responsibilities to just...leave her alone. After all, she'd outright agreed to allow Lady Dimitrescu to eat anyone who got in her way.

I had to, Chris-

But wasn't that everyone's argument? She was certain Miranda would have claimed the same, in her place.

"Chris is a problem for later," she said quickly. "Right now, we need to focus on getting into town, scout out what's going on."

"Fifteen years," Dimitrescu murmured. "What degeneracy will greet us, I wonder."

"At a guess? Probably a whole freaking lot of lycans."

Lady Dimitrescu lifted her hand, letting her claws slide from her fingertips, admiring their slick gleam in the light.

"Dear, sweet child," she said, and grinned, showing off her teeth. "Lycans are to be the least of our worries."

[jamiesfootball]

⭐️ here's a director's cut question for OGYGGI(YHNBGL) (side note: i love this acronym. it may not be convenient to type but i hear it in my mind as the sound of a giant sea monster rising from the deep):

do you have a process for figuring out how to hint at what's going on with jamie and the other characters before roy knows about it? are there any alternate-pov versions of scenes that live in your brain, like with Low Battery?

also, anything you want to talk about with the 5+1 falling asleep fic! i love all the snippets you've posted from it very much

I too love the acronym. Look at it. It's so silly. I love the thought of it as a giant see monster rinsing from the deep - honestly I've looking at it and my dyslexic brain keeps filling in 'Oingo-Boingo.'

do you have a process for figuring out how to hint at what's going on with jamie and the other characters before roy knows about it?

Part of the fun (for me) with keeping everything in Roy's pov is the challenge of balancing how to get across what is happening elsewhere. Which is why I have The Spreadsheet:

(I think I have appropriately blurred this out enough that there shouldn't be spoilers)

(Also this has reminded me I have more notes that need added to it)

So on the left I have my List of Things. On this list are:

-Characters: anyone I regularly check in with and/or who has something going on in the background (Roy, Jamie, Colin, Keeley, etc)

-Character groups: any combination of characters who have plot beats going on as part of their group dynamic (Roy & Jamie, the Diamond Dogs, Roy & his family, etc)

-Specific plots: any recurring plot thread that I need to keep an eye on (Jamie's impending Brazil photoshoot, the Roy & Jamie Book Club)

-Recurring details: anything recurring that changes but doesn't necessarily impact the action (for instance, the renovation and maintenance being done to the Richmond locker room that Roy witnesses over the course of the month)

-The Thesis Statement: this is the BIG ONE for me and it's right at the top. With so many interwoven stories and Roy's journey of big mental health stuff being the big driving focus, I needed some way of making sure I was always moving the story forward for him, even in the chapters where he doesn't have a therapy session. So each chapter has an I-Statement for Roy that is a clear idea of where he's at that point in the chapter. Here's the one for chapter one:

"I am angry and miserable and lonely. I don't know how to show people I care. I don't want to fuck this up. I will change something"

They're not elegant - they're raw and simple and to the point. It helps me keep on task and make sure the chapter is hitting the right notes.

EDIT: realized I forgot to explain- the column headers are chapters.

are there any alternate-pov versions of scenes that live in your brain, like with Low Battery?

YES THERE ARE. The big big BIG one being Jamie's eventual trip to Manchester to visit his dad in rehab - a scene that I have honestly been considering writing just so I have a version of it in my head to reference when he's telling Roy about it. I already have some of it figured out and ooof. OOF I say.

Another one that I've been considering is Jamie and Ted's eventual Talk about what's been going on - both with Jamie and his dad, and with Jamie having finally finished reading The Beautiful & Damned. That one is tricky, because Roy isn't involved or around for that conversation at all, but he does speak to Ted immediately after.

A much smaller one that's recently crept into the running is Jamie's reaction to finally hearing from his dad for the first time, which is.....it's going to be very soon.

also, anything you want to talk about with the 5+1 falling asleep fic!

The big one there is that I SWEAR IT'S STILL IN PROGRESS. For a while there, I had time reconnecting with it, and I realized (this morning actually) that part of my issue was that I was struggling to reach that raw place that wrote most of it. Now that I've let it set a bit, I've recharged, and it's back on the writing block come new years!

From this ask game but specific questions only please!