#because the pale tree was protecting them

[gsirvitor]

Across the known world a deer species exist, known as dēgo, large, semi-intelligent ruminants, though they are incapable of speech.

The southern dēgo are large, imposing beasts, they grow on average 6'9" at the shoulders carrying the largest antlers of any known cervid, growing up to 12' from tip to tip and weighing up to 88lbs.

They range from 1190–1323 lbs, large specimens weigh 1543 lbs or more.

Their stoic, and stern faces give them an air of regality, however, they are known to act rather unserious when not watched, frolicking in oasis meadows, rolling in new snowfall, and even getting their tongues stuck to ice for what dwarven scholars speculate, is their idea of fun.

The southern male dēgo are solitary in nature, staying far from other dēgo unless mating, or tending to their young.

Females tend to move in herds of up to 200, or smaller formations of 40, this is because the females tend to the young more often than the males, and need the numbers of the herd to protect from predators.

A rare variant of dēgo, known as a dēgo seer, can be found every few seasons, they grow to twice the size of an ordinary specimen, and sport pearlescent, white fur.

Unlike other dēgo who sport thick coats that vary in colour, this is most apparent in summer, when they have shorter, richer coloured coats, and hardest in late spring when the elements have bleached their thick winter coats to a pale washed out cream.

Due to this, many female dēgo get mixed into caribou herds by mistake, this leads to hybridized, yet infertile offspring, while rare, these hybrids are prized by the dwarves for their pelts, as they are born with golden, velvety coats.

The midrange, or arboreal dēgo, can be found near and around the human dominated lands, much like dēgo of the south, these cervids are scarcely seen.

While they will run with the deer native to these lands, they abhor human development, and will avoid any city or town, however, small forested villages will frequently come across these animals sleeping nearby.

The arboreal dēgo are small, and lithe, the males are known as a bucks, the females as doe, and the young a fawn.

Adult bucks are 4.5–5.4ft long, 2.75–3 ft in shoulder height, and typically 130–220 lbs in weight; doe are 4.25–4.9ft long, 2.5–2.75 ft in shoulder height, and 66–110 lbs in weight.

The largest bucks may measure 6.25ft long and weigh 330 lbs.

Unlike their southern cousins, arboreal dēgo lack any form of antlers, instead growing keratin nubs that will extend from the base of the skull down their spines as they age.

Their coats range from a light brown to a jet black, with mottled variations in between.

Arboreal dēgo are nocturnal, and will raid the farms of humans at night, deftly evading the pursuit of hounds, and herd dogs.

The northern dēgo have adapted to the savannah near the elven lands, their antlers are large, obsidian in their colour, and used to spear prey.

Unlike the arboreal and southern dēgo, the Savannah dēgo have adapted to supplementing a large portion of their diets with prey items, this is due in large part to the harsh nature of the northern realms.

These dēgo are identical in size to the arboreal cousins, however, they have adapted for persistence running, and bursts of speed, reaching 100mph when running over the salt flats near the coastal regions.

One thing that unifies all dēgo, is the fact they can use magic, well, no that's not the right word for it, they can utilize magical power through the invoking of nature and its spirits.

A dēgo in need of escaping pursuers could cry out to the spirits to cause trees to move and block the path, others may whisper to the snow to reveal the bounty trapped beneath, and others may dance for rain, or plead for water.

While useful, this way of utilizing magic relies heavily on the whimsy of spirits, who may or may not help said dēgo.

The only exceptions are the exceedingly rare seer dēgo variant, these beasts can summon magic as if it is their second nature, not relying on spirits, they command nature itself to take action.

This has led many scholars to believe that dēgo are yet another holdover from the age of the gods, beasts of intellect, and power that escaped damnation.

[concept adapted from @jestrogames addition to the thread]

I want it so elves, through the generations, selected their mates off of ear length, so elves will wear sorta like jockstraps for their ears, but when they take them off their ears nearly drag on the ground with how long they are.

The upper class will have long ears, draped in silk, ivory and gold, carried by servants, while the lower classes have varying ear lengths, their social status reflected in the length of their ears.

Merchants tend to have ear extensions, made from homunculus flesh, but tattooed so they can't pass as upper class elves, these tattoos can be tailored to the merchant's liking, to reflect their familial roots, their values and aesthetics, or just their chosen business.

The lowest class are the kind most humans interact with as they are the only ones allowed to mingle with humans and other races with subpar ears, despite this, the shortest ears on the lowest class elf is still 1-2' long.

So even low class elves have an air of superiority, and arrogance when they're interacting with other races, as the other races are clearly inferior to them.

Dark elves are outcasts because they reject this caste system, choosing to cut off their long ears, and mimic humans, the only thing betraying their elven heritage is the fact their eyes are larger than most humans, though some still have epicanthic folds in their eyes.

The reason their eyes are larger is because Elves are crepuscular in their evolution, but the lowest classes are diurnal, at least they are forced to be because they interact with other races, causing them to often squint during the day, or wear large hats to protect from the sun.

If anyone wants to add to this, they can, I just wanted to spew some random ear related ideas.

[commanders-company]

Reforged

Do you remember me, mother?

Do you remember when the fleet fell, and the jungle roar pierced our minds? Many trembled, many faltered, but I stood resolute. My duty as warden meant I could not let the call take hold; there were far too many lives in my hands for that. I gave words of comfort, brought the lost back home, and gave a quick end to those too far gone. Grueling work, but I did it gladly.

Do you remember the silence? For weeks after, the dream was chaotic, a swirling vortex of panic and confusion. Everyone had questions and no one had answers. And when the jungle dragon was finally slain, what followed felt like a wasteland. Saplings were afraid to peer into the dream. Their elder siblings were disillusioned. I remained. I had to.

Do you remember where I was sent? A sudden urging pushed me and a small company of valiants to Mount Maelstrom, further from the forest than any of us had ever been. The destroyers were on the move, or so the dream said. We marched, your loyal tin soldiers, confident that the dream would keep us safe. But the dream had changed, hadn't it? You were still so weak after the attack. And yet you sent us out.

Do you remember the names of the fallen?

Did you hear their screams?

Do you know how long I burned, buried in the rubble?

I called out, begged for help, screamed in pain. No one came to my rescue. A footnote in the great dream, to be cataloged and forgotten with the rest. But in the midst of my suffering, I was resolute. I believed in you. I had to.

And then another voice came: primal, indistinct, but getting closer. It spoke of fire and ruin. Promised power. The power to save myself.

As I clawed my way out of the melting rock, I confronted the truth: you never saved me. You left me to die.

I have no need of the dream anymore. No need for siblings or titles or anything green. Magma boils in my veins, waiting to be released. Every moment is pain, my skin is reduced to ash, removing every last trace of what I was before. His voice continues in my ear - powerful, wild, driving me toward one goal.

Do you hear me now, mother?

No matter. You will soon.

[livesincerely]

“Is that them?” a voice shouts. Eddie glances up from where he’s just finished splinting the last kid’s wrist to find a heavy-set white guy storming towards them, literally spitting with anger. “Are those the shitheads that destroyed my construction site?”

“Sir,” Eddie says, moving to intercept. “Sir, I understand that you’re upset, but you need to stay behind the barriers.”

“You’re damn right, I’m upset!” the man yells. There’s this acrid stink of unbridled rage wafting off of him like the worst kind of body odor, the vein in his forehead throbbing furiously. “You fucking delinquents, do you have any idea what you’ve— Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

“Sir,” Eddie says again, voice firm. “This is an active emergency incident. You need to step back.”

“Three weeks behind schedule, hundreds of thousands of dollars in the hole,” he says, still screaming at the very top of his lungs. “And you’re treating their fucking booboos? I want them in handcuffs! I want them behind bars!”

“Sir, please calm—“

“Don’t tell me to—!”

The—obvious, inevitable, for fuck’s sake, really?—shove barely even phases him, but the heel of his boot catches on a piece of debris and his back foot goes skidding out from underneath him. His arms fly out as he fights for balance, bracing himself for a hard fall.

Instead, he lands against a firm, familiar chest.

“Do not,” Buck growls in a low, dangerous voice, because of course Buck’s here right as Eddie needs him, always watching his back. “Put your hands on him.”

He can’t quite smell him between the dust in the air and all the blockers he’s slathered on, but it doesn’t take a genius to identify a supremely pissed off alpha. Asshole Civilian must realize it too because his beady eyes go wide, his lips turning pale and thin as all the blood drains from his face.

“I— I was just—“

Buck tips Eddie back onto his feet, strong hands lingering on his hips for a moment as if to make certain he’s steady before pulling away.

“Firefighter Diaz told you to move back behind the barricade,” Buck says, his expression thunderous as he gets right up in the guy’s face. He’s got, maybe, four inches on this guy, but with the way he looms over him, it might as well be four feet. “I strongly suggest that you follow his instructions.”

Any intelligent person would cut their losses, scurrying away with their tail between their legs. But this guy proves himself to be a special type of stupid.

“This is my building,” he protests in a voice like a wet paper towel. “I have a right to expect—“

“Half of your building fell into a sinkhole,” Buck cuts in, thoroughly unimpressed, “and the other half is on fire. The entire area is under the purview of emergency personnel until further notice, and any interference,” he continues, “is considered an obstruction of justice. And attacking a firefighter is felony assault.”

Idiot Asshole Civilian makes a noise that’s somewhere between a gurgle and a wheeze, and somehow manages to pale even further.

“So, you can either calm down and find somewhere out of the way to wait for an update, or I will personally escort you off of the scene and directly into the back of the squad car. Your choice.”

He’s incredibly sexy like this: all protective and righteous on Eddie’s behalf, his cheeks flushed with fury and his lip curling like he’s barely holding back a snarl. If it weren’t for three-alarm fire blazing steadily behind them, he’d climb him like a fucking tree, right there in front of god and everbody.

“Down boy,” Eddie murmurs instead, pressing a hand to his chest, because when Buck starts to snap and snarl, it’s Eddie’s job to tug on his line and haul him back. “I think you’ve more than made your point.”

For a moment, he’s not sure if Buck will let it go. His nostrils flare like a dragon defending its hoard, his eyes flashing from blue to red and back again between one blink and the next.

He grinds out, “Back. Behind. The barricade.”

Then he turns on his heel and stalks away, disappearing into the throngs of first responders.

[trulyumai]

Protector of his Woman

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler x Reader

Synopsis: Leaving the kingdom was a choice, but leaving his wife? Out of the question.

Warnings: Talk of violence/Death.

Enjoy!

“Does thou take me for a fool?” 

The pale flame stood tall, beside him his wife gripped onto the forearm placed in front of her frame. She stood just behind said man, looking away from the escalating scene. Too distracted by the swiveling trees and smell of pine wafting through the air. 

“Of course not, your grace! Its, well, your mother thought it best-”

“My mother disgraces me with such a request, yet is unfit to be present?” 

The golden soldier gulped, a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his brow, illuminating his face with a light sheen. 

“N-no, she traveled to the capital today, y-your grace.” 

The knight squinted. His posture was rigid and offended by the mere man's presence. 

He stood on their porch, by their house and demanded his attention to the capital? 

How offensive, how misinformed how- 

“Husband?” 

The burning flames hushed beneath his palms as the attention diverted from the man, to the small women beside him.

“Wife,”

With half lidded eyes, the man moved a hand towards her backside and rested it upon her lower spine. The aura shifted, the heat died down and the ambiance of nature could once more be heard. (Rather than the sizzling of a flame that grew onto the man's digits.)

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad visit. It has been a while since our last outing.” He felt the strokes upon his arm, soothingly moving up and down, up and down. 

“Leave us,” Messmer didn’t need to look up once more, as the soldier fled down their stone walkway. 

“She insults us, thou knows of her intentions.” 

His gaze stuck to her lucky honeydew on bread, it stayed there globbing onto each detail. Her eyes were bright today, full of light and love. Yet there was also worry there, and Messmer bit his tongue for placing such a feeling onto her. Her form sagged beside his, most of his arm held her body up, halting it from falling upon the rocks.

“She does,” a pause

“But she’s your mother, to not make an appearance would surely soil your reputation, my love.” 

“Have I not done enough? The bodies that lay upon the mountains, are they not proof of my unwavering loyalty?” His voice raised, startling the shorter woman, moving forward he gestured his hands around their vicinity. 

“All of this, all of it! It's safe because I deemed it so. Not the lord Godwyn, Not the unbeatable Melania. Me. The beholder of flames! Yet thee can be ruined- butchered, for not returning to an unloving kingdom?”

Mouth dry, she tried to speak- to comfort the rising temper of the man but no words budged. His eyes burned bright, they looked right through her. 

“No. I will not be returning, dear wife. For my place is here, by your side, in this house that I built for us,” Cautiously the knight placed himself back in front of her, and to her surprise, bent down on his knees. 

“Messmer! Get up this instant, your knees-”

A big palm covered her lips, its texture rough and calloused. It was so warm compared to the nipping air around them. And although she tried to be mad- she really did, it was hard when such a warmth was comforting to the girl. 

“My wife, I will protect thy until the flames of this land die out, until there's no one left but us to occupy such a fool of a kingdom,” 

“However,” 

The bigger man's hand dropped from her lips, both of his limbs instead wrapped themselves around her being, until his elbows molded together. 

“Do not ask me to leave your side again. Promise me.” 

“Husband… I simply canno-

“Promise me!” The man shouted, his grip tightened fastly around her.

Her nails dug into the man's wrists, and although she wasn’t in pain, his fervent yet fierce attitude scattered her mind. She wasn’t used to such a ferocity of emotion emitting from the man, aimed at her no less.

“I- I promise, I promise my love!” 

As if those were the words he was waiting for all his life, the man crumpled beneath her frame, his head buried between the ripples of her dress, with his nose digging into her stomach. 

She didn't know just how far such a devotion could- would go for the maroon knight. 

For how could she see the future, wrapped in nothing but flame and immorality?

“I  adore you, little wife,” Yellowed iris’ glanced upon her delicate ones. 

A laugh broke out between her lips, enchanting the man entirely.

“And I you, Husband.”

As if starved the man leaned up quickly; hungrily, to lock his lips against hers. Broken skin connected with softened and smooth, Messmer moaned out in content. 

If his wife was to be the end of the world, he would be her weapon. His flames would bathe her with as much loyalty he could give. 

What would he need a broken kingdom for, when such a devoted wife lay in his arms?

[daisiesaredazy]

⛸️ Iceskating with You !

ᝰ REDACTED x FEM! reader .ᐟ✮⋆˙ (ft. the 14dwy cast)

SUMMARY ~ You decided to bring a certain hacker along for an impromptu group hangout at the ice skating rink, but he didn't exactly hit it off with half of your friends.

(REDACTED + (the others) belong to @14dayswithyou!)

[This story is written by ©daisiesaredazy, 2024 and in no way should be plagiarized or undergo any kind of use without my permission.]

(Throughout the fanfic, Ren’s true form/censored name, REDACTED, will be referred to as his nickname, Ren, because I prefer to use that as the placeholder for his real name lol)

(written in second person point of view)

❄️

༘⋆༄.°⋆ It was freezing outside, the frosty cold air biting on the tips of her ears. Yesterday, Y/N and her friends spontaneously decided to go ice skating over text. Of course, she couldn’t resist asking if her hacker boyfriend, Ren, could join, earning an annoyed text from Teo, complaining that they’d be too "lovey-dovey." Despite his protests, the group agreed.

“Ren, are you sure you’re not cold?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with concern as she glanced up at him. Her gaze softened when she noticed the pale snow drifting down onto his jet-black hair, dusting it like powdered sugar. He looked unaffected, a calm contrast to the winter chill.

Ren gave a small nod. “‘Told you I’d be fine, Angel. ‘Sides,” he added, pulling the hood of his jacket further over her head, shielding her face from the wind, “y’health ‘s more important.”

“But this is your jacket,” she argued, a hint of concern in her tone. “I’m already wearing one! You’ll get sick.”

Ren smirked, his snakebite piercings catching the light as his lips tugged upward. “Y’don’t have a hood. I’m more concerned ‘bout you, Angel. Y’might catch a cold.” His words mirrored hers playfully, and Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes but holding onto his arm, the tension easing as they walked together.

The two of them watched their friends, Jaehyun and Leon, who were causing a ruckus ahead of them. The pair were throwing snowballs at each other, their laughter filling the crisp air as they dodged and weaved in a mock battle. Elanor and Kiara were deep in conversation, planning their next sister vacation, while Violet had taken a mini pine tree with her, Teo—surprisingly—was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Teo?” Y/N murmured, furrowing her brows. She scanned the area, but the green-haired troublemaker was nowhere in sight.

Before she could voice her question again, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. “What, missed me, doll?” Teo appeared seemingly out of nowhere, walking casually behind them, his gaze fixed on the screen of his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. He seemed annoyed about something, probably yet another drama with one of the girls he had dated. His lips curved into a smirk at her concerned demeanor.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, the usual playful exasperation flooding her expression. She didn’t even need to look at Ren to feel the subtle shift in his posture. His grip on her arm tightened just a little—protective, but still gentle.

She immediately regretted asking about Teo’s whereabouts.

Ren’s voice was quiet but laced with irritation as he spoke, his eyes narrowing in Teo’s direction. “Nah, y’not worth missing.”

Y/N shot him a pointed look. The words hung in the air for a moment, but before she could even speak, Ren’s tone softened. He blinked at her with wide, innocent eyes, putting on his best puppy-dog expression and pouting as he mimicked his old Haruko persona.

Y/N groaned and rubbed her temples. “Ren, please don’t…”

Teo scoffed loudly from behind them, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “If it isn’t buttercup trying to act all ‘cutesy’ again. Ugh, cringe.”

Y/N shot him an agitated look, and Teo leaned in, his smirk getting wider. “You’re just jealous ‘cause your angel definitely missed me.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed at the jab, his lips curling into a smug grin. “‘M jealous of how often y’forgotten the endless amounts of times y’been rejected by her. Maybe it’s t’save y’self from remembering how pathetic y’looked every single time.”

Teo’s brow twitched, clenching his fists. “At least I’m not a walking emo boy who looks like he time-traveled from 2010.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow and cut in to the heated argument with a comment. “Emos from 2010 were kinda hot, though…”

Ren’s eyes flicked to her, then back to Teo, and his grin grew. “Y’heard her.”

Teo scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes as if bored by the entire exchange. He shoved past Ren, his arm brushing against his in what was likely a calculated move. Without another word, he stalked off toward Jaehyun and Leon, the tension still thick in the air.

Ren’s hand didn’t leave Y/N’s arm, the warmth of his touch, a subtle reminder of his ever-present protectiveness.

Y/N couldn’t help but shake her head, caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. Her friends were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“So… y’like emos from 2010?” Ren asked, his voice an innocent hum of curiosity, though his lips curled with something far more mischievous.

“No.” Y/N snapped instantly, hiding her face in her hands, wishing for a hole to swallow her up.

“‘Kay, sure, definitely,” he replied sarcastically, a smug smile on his face. He had just uncovered her deepest secret.

Y/N groaned, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. Great. Just great.

❄️

Upon arriving at the ice skating rink, the group was quick to rent their skates, eager to get started. Meanwhile, Ren had already made his way over to the counter and returned with two pairs of custom ice skates—one for himself, and one for Y/N. On the blade of his skates was engraved, “Always with You,” and on Y/N’s were little angel wings on both blades.

“Ren, seriously?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she glanced down at the pristine skates in her hands. “You bought us ice skates?”

Ren, unfazed, simply shrugged with a small smirk. “Yeah. So that next time we go skating—just th’two of us, no idio—distractions, y’have y’own pair.” He then gently guided her toward a bench and knelt in front of her, starting to untie her shoes to put the skates on.

Y/N could tell from the way he said it that he wasn’t all that thrilled about spending the day with the rest of the group. “Mhm, sure. But at least try to act like you’re interested in them,” she requested, glancing over at the others who were already having fun and joking around.

Ren looked up at her, his soft gaze locking onto hers as he continued adjusting the laces. “Anything f’you,” he said, his tone quiet but filled with sincerity. The words, simple yet heartfelt, made her smile despite herself. He had that way of making her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered at that moment.

As he finished lacing her skates, Y/N stood, testing her balance. She wobbled a little, but before she could even reach for the bench to steady herself, Ren was already there, his arms encircling her waist in a steady grip. “Easy there,” he murmured, pulling her in close, her hands instinctively gripping his jacket as he led them to the ice skating rink.

“I’m fine, Ren,” she muttered, though she didn’t exactly mind the support—especially considering how unsteady she felt getting onto the ice. “Agh, nevermind! Hold me!” She cried for help, as Ren chuckled and assisted her immediately.

Just then, Elanor, Kiara, and Violet appeared. Kiara practically dragged her clumsy sister, Elanor, onto the ice, while Violet skated over in a burst of energy. Elanor exclaimed with an adorable smile, “Y/N, we need to take a picture! Come on, just one!”

Violet snapped her fingers, pulling out her phone, and wobbly attaching it onto a selfie stick. “Yeah, c’mon, it’ll be cute! Ren, you’re in this too, right?”

Ren looked at them through half-lidded eyes, his grip tightening slightly around Y/N as if to anchor her to him. “Mm, ‘m good right here,” he muttered, his voice a little too low to be convincing.

“Ren—” Y/N started to protest, but before she could finish, he was already tightening his arms around her, pressing her into him more securely.

“Just a sec,” he said, his voice muffled as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his face hidden in the soft fabric of her sweater. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent like it was the most important thing in the world to him.

"Ren, we’re taking a picture! You can’t be clinging to me like this," she exclaimed, trying (and failing) to squirm out of his embrace.

Ren smirked, pulling her even closer. “Like they say, take a picture, it’ll last longer. ‘Want this moment t’last forever,” he whispered, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Ren, you adult baby, get off.” Y/N groaned, but the warmth of his body, his steady heartbeat against hers, and the way he refused to let go made it hard for her to be truly mad.

Kiara raised an eyebrow, before smiling for picture. While Violet, was already clicking away 0.5 selfies with her selfie stick. “Well, I guess this is the picture then,” she said, her tone amused, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

Elanor laughed, clearly not bothered by Ren’s possessiveness. “Hehe, it’s cute, honestly. Let loverboy have his moment in the backround.”

With that, Ren finally released his hold just slightly, pulling back enough for Y/N to catch her breath—though the sudden absence of his warmth made her feel oddly empty. As the picture was taken, he shot her a satisfied grin, his arms still loosely around her waist. “Y’not getting ‘way from me that easily, Angel.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small grin tugging at her lips. "I’m sure of it. You're impossible."

Ren just smiled. “‘N you’re adorable.”

“‘Ight, everyone! Group photo!” Leon exclaimed with a grin on the other side of the rink as Jae-Hyun handed his phone over to a moody green-haired man—who seemed very unamused.

As they all gathered together for a group picture on the ice, Y/N practically had to beg Ren to let go, which he reluctantly did.

“Y’sure, Angel? Don’t want y’to fall,” he questioned with concern, his blue eyes eyeing intently at her, challenging her.

“I’ll be fine! Just watch—” 

Her confidence was short lived when she felt his arms slowly slip away.

“‘Kay, suit y’self.”

“Wait—!”

“‘M letting go.” He warned.

He released his grip around her waist, and she nearly fell right onto the ice. Instantly, she clung back onto him, and he softly chuckled. Y/N gave him a light smack to the arm.

“Ren!! You can’t just do that! You—should’ve warned me earlier!”

He hummed softly as he clung onto her again. His eyes glimmered with mischief. “‘N I did, didn’t I? ‘Told you that I’d let go.”

“Yeah!—but—”

“Okay, took the photo,” Teo muttered in annoyance as Y/N raised a brow. The others skated over to him, curiously staring at the phone.

“…Dude, my eyes are closed!” Violet complained.

“Mine’s are too,” Elanor pouted.

“It’s okay, you look cute either way, Princess,” Teo flirted, pinching Elanor’s cheek as she hopelessly looked at him with love in her eyes. Oh, how Y/N wished she could slap that idiot for toying with Elanor’s feelings… but something about the way he looked at her… seemed genuine.

“He totally has the hots for you!” Kiara whispered. She smirked at her sister, nudging her slightly as Elanor blushed. ‘She was way too good for him,’ Y/n thought, letting out a soft sigh of annoyance.

Y/N stared at the picture, and saw a horrendous photo of herself—nearly about to fall, eyes wide open, mouth agape, and foot in the air. She glared at Teo as she pointed it out. “Why do I look like that?! You didn’t even tell us you were taking it!”

Teo scoffed. “Whatever. Not my problem you look like that.”

Ren yanked the phone from Teo, deleting the picture, and handed the phone back with narrowed eyes and a fake smile.

“Retake it.”

Begrudgingly, Teo retook the picture, but not without muttering negative words. Shortly after, Teo suddenly disappeared—probably because things weren’t going quite his way—Leon quickly went on a mini search mission. He found Teo off to the side, moping like a kid who hadn’t gotten his way at the candy store. Leon somehow managed to talk him back into staying with the group, which he hesitantly agreed.

Unfortunately, for Y/N, the struggle wasn’t over yet. She was still clinging to the metal handrail, trying (and struggling) to find her balance on the ice. Ren was close beside her, his warm presence offering both support and comfort as he held her other hand.

"Ugh, I used to do this all the time when I was a kid! I swear, I could even do twirls and stuff!" she groaned in frustration, her skates wobbling beneath her.

Ren chuckled softly, his voice dripping with teasing affection. "’M sure y’could, Angel. No doubt ‘bout it."

Y/N shot him a sideways glance, not quite convinced but grateful for his reassurance. Violet skated past them effortlessly, her mini pine tree—affectionately named “Jerry”—still tucked safely in her arms.

"Aw, don’t worry, bhe! You’ve got this! Just gotta practice the movements, and you'll be back to twirling in no time, just like Jerry over here!" Violet called over her shoulder with a bright smile, before skating away. 

Ren and Y/N exchanged a glance, both eyebrows raised in mild concern. Ren muttered under his breath, “Twirling? ‘S she good? That’s a tree.” Y/n chuckled nervously. trying to steady herself against the railing. “T—that’s Vi for you!” 

Ren squeezed her hand tighter, sensing she was on the verge of losing her balance once more. “Careful, remember what I told you? Y’gotta waddle like a baby penguin, cutie.” mentions the raven headed man as you let out a soft laugh at his silly reminder.

Y/N caught sight of Kiara and Elanor, who were in the midst of a chaotic sisterly bonding session. Kiara was trying her best to keep her sibling from falling, but with Elanor's uncoordinated, deer-like movements, the two of them seemed locked in an endless battle against gravity.

"No, Norie! One foot in front of the other! Stop being so stiff!" Kiara was practically pleading.

"I—I can't! This is too hard—Wah!" Elanor’s voice cut off as she slipped, flailing in every direction to steady herself unsuccessfully before she falls. But just as quickly, a familiar green-haired figure appeared, catching her effortlessly before she could hit the ground. It was Teo, his grin smug as ever.

Y/N couldn’t help but gasp at the scene. It was like something out of a drama, but when she realized it was Teo who had caught Elanor, her excitement quickly turned into mild discomfort. She cringed and turned away, focusing on the ice beneath her instead.

Ren noticed her shift in mood and raised an eyebrow. "What, ‘don’t think they’re suited f’each other?"

Reluctantly, Y/N shrugged, still watching Teo and Elanor as Kiara helped her sister regain her footing. "I dunno… it’s cute, but Teo—he’s always had this thing about messing around. I just don’t want him hurting El’s feelings."

Ren’s expression darkened for a brief moment, his gaze narrowing at Teo and Elanor before turning back to Y/N. He exhaled slowly, clearly uninterested in getting caught up in their drama. "Mhm. Got it…” before he mumbled under his breath inaudibly “‘don’t really care ‘bout them honestly."

He shifted his focus back to her. his tone softening. "Think y’got enough practice with the handrails now, Angel. Let’s see what y’can do without 'em." He extended his hand toward her, and Y/N hesitated for a moment before placing her shaking hand into his. The warmth of his grip was steadying, grounding her in a way that made her feel safer.

With a gentle tug, Ren led her forward, skating backwards to guide her along the ice. "Doin’ great, Angel. Keep going," he encouraged, his deep voice full of confidence that seemed to seep into her own determination.

Her nerves calmed a little as his praise fueled her resolve. Slowly but surely, she took one shaky step after another, feeling the ice beneath her as she gained more control. She was far from graceful, but with Ren’s guidance, she was starting to feel like she might actually make it.

"That's it,” Ren praised. A smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observed her movements. "y’doin’ awesome."

❄️

Laughter erupted from the group as everyone’s energy practically bounced off the ice. Y/n, after plenty of trial and error—and lots of practice with Ren—was finally getting the hang of skating. Her movements were becoming smoother, and the ice didn’t feel so treacherous anymore.

She skated over to Leon, grinning. “I can finally balance on the ice!”

“Congrats, darl'!” Leon exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with pride. “Knew you could do it! Never doubted ya!” He gave her a friendly pat on the back. But before she could even bask in the victory, Ren appeared, as expected, right behind her. He slid in with a shadow casted over his features, his hand finding her waist as he planted his head on top of hers, glaring over her shoulder at Leon.

“…Ren,” she said, trying to push him off gently, though her voice was tinged with frustration.

Ren uttered praises. “Y’already that independent? Huh, y’really are that amazing, Angel.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a fond smile tugged at her lips. “Okay, thanks—“

“Stay w’me, love.” His voice was soft, but there was an undeniable weight to his words. He kissed her lips, his arms tightened around her, and for a moment, Y/N felt the temptation to just give in.

But then, she reminded herself why she’d wanted a break in the first place. “Go talk to Jae-hyun and Teo. I’m just gonna catch up with Leon for a bit—”

“No.” Ren cut her off, his tone firm, almost stubborn. “I’m stayin’ w’you.”

Y/n huffed in exasperation, trying, but failing, to pry him off her. He was practically glued to her, like an accessory—scarf, hat, jacket, and all. No escape. He would find a way to be on her one way or another.

“Ren—!” She tried again, half-laughing in frustration.

“I only came here f’you,” he muttered into her hair, sounding almost desperate. “Nobody else matters. Don’ care ‘bout anyone else but you.”

“Ren.” Her tone was more pleading this time, but she could already tell he wasn’t going to budge. 

“Yes, Angel?” He asked innocently, as if he didn’t know exactly what she was trying to do.

She gazed up at him, wanting to cup his face and kiss him, she went against the urge. He needed to learn how to socialize properly with others. “Go talk to them. At least try to.”

Ren looked at her, his expression softening slightly, though he didn’t seem convinced. Then his protective nature kicked in again, and his jealousness flared up. 

“‘Can’t do it, Angel. ‘M afraid I failed already.” His voice was low, almost defeated as he nuzzled into her hair, and she groaned in frustration.

Leon, standing nearby with crossed arms, finally spoke up, his voice carrying a hint of concern. “Aye, Ron, mate. If you wanna go talk to my buddies, I can come with—”

Ren immediately shot Leon a sharp glare, cutting him off before the offer could even finish. “No thanks.” 

Y/n glanced back and forth between the two men, a mix of amusement and exasperation on her face. Sighing, she gently nudged Ren toward Teo and Jae-hyun, who were laughing and joking on the other side of the rink.

“If you behave,” she whispered with a sly grin, “I’ll spend the entire next week with you—just the two of us.”

Ren’s eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, he hesitated. But then, as if the words were magic, he immediately skated off in the direction of Teo and Jae-hyun, leaving Y/N standing there triumphant.

“Ahah, got him.” She couldn’t help but laugh to herself as she observed Ren join the other two.

Leon raised an eyebrow as he observed the exchange. “Sunfish, is he always that clingy with you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s kinda sweet, but it’s also kinda… concerning.”

The h/c girl shrugged casually, though there was a slight flush on her cheeks. “He’s just very protective. He’s always looking out for me, making sure I don’t get hurt or anything.”

Leon gave her a skeptical look but nodded slowly. “I mean, I get it! But… he’s like a shadow.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Like I said, he’s just looking out for me. But he’ll get used to them… eventually.” She glanced over at Ren again, who was now engaged in some sort of heated discussion with Teo. 

“Anyways,” Leon said, clearly trying to change the subject, “you still had to finish your discussion from last week, remember?”

She grinned. “Yep! I’ll tell you allll about it.”

The two of them skated leisurely around the rink, catching up like they always had. The conversation flowed easily, covering everything from family updates to recent events and hobbies. 

But just as they were beginning to settle into the rhythm of their chat, a loud voice cut through the air, followed by a familiar heated argument.

“Your hairline’s gonna start receding ‘cause of all that bleach you put in your hair before, buttercup.” Teo taunted, a smug grin on his face.

Ren’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his voice cold and venomous. “Oh, really? ‘Least I’m not out here lookin’ like I stuck my head in a paint bucket, tryin’ t’look hot but ended up lookin’ like a neon green highlighter.” He shot Teo a scathing look. “Y’should be more worried about how much product y’using—y’about one bad move ‘way from y’scalp filing a lawsuit. Product buildup ‘s not cute.”

Teo’s face flushed, and he opened his mouth to retort, but Jae-hyun quickly stepped in, hands raised in a peacekeeper’s gesture.

“Dudes! You need to stop! Say, let’s make a TakTik!” Jae-hyun suggested enthusiastically.

Y/n shook her head with a half-amused, half-exasperated smile. Ren really doesn’t hold back, does he? You were glad to see that he was being his true self now.

The duo immediately skated over to the arguing males, who proceeded to throw insults at each other, while Jae-hyun set up his phone on the iron handrail, filming a dance with the chaos unfolding in the background.

Leon and Y/n exchanged a look, then turned back to the chaotic scene before them, both sighing in unison.

❄️

After finally managing to pull the two males apart—amidst an impressive amount of bickering and a disoriented Jae-hyun, who had somehow ended up tangled in his own scarf—(nobody knows how), Y/N made a mental note to never, ever leave her hacker boyfriend alone with Teo ever again. 

As they exited the rink, Ren nuzzled her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist as he practically dragged her along the pavement. 

“‘Missed you s’much, Angel,” he mumbled, his voice thick with affection, clearly ignoring how clumsy she was trying to walk in her skates.

“Mhm, yeah. Tell me about it,” Y/n replied, her tone unamused but carrying a hint of annoyance. She was still adjusting to the sensation of her skates on solid ground, her legs feeling like jelly.

“Please, don’t do that next time. I’m begging you,” she continued, turning slightly to glance up at him, her voice softening. “I swear, if you say something even remotely morbid or rude to any of my friends again, I will not be happy.”

Ren immediately straightened up, his expression a mixture of guilt and earnestness. “Right, ‘m sorry, ‘won’t happen again, love.” He nodded, head lowered, completely giving in to her request. His voice softened, full of warmth. “I’ll do anything f’you, Angel.”

She sighed, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. The h/c female knew Ren was protective, but sometimes, his protectiveness veered a little too far into clingy. Not that she minded too much.

As they walked, her eyes caught sight of a few familiar faces near the entrance, standing outside with steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Violet, Kiara, and Elanor waved at her as they saw the pair approaching.

“Hey! Finally out of there?” Violet called with a grin, the warmth from her drink visible in the chilly air.

“Yeah, thank goodness,” Y/N let out a sigh of relief, flashing a tired but amused smile. “Ren and Teo nearly started World War III in there.”

Ren let out a sigh, though he shot Teo a pointed look from the distance. “‘Wasn’t startin’ anything. He started it.”

Kiara chuckled, handing Y/N and Ren a cup of hot chocolate. “Here. Maybe this will help calm you guys down.”

Thanks,” Y/N muttered gratefully, taking the warm cup. She glanced over at Ren, her lips curving into a soft smile. “So, what’s next? You planning on causing more trouble, or are we actually gonna enjoy the night now?”

Ren smirked, pulling her a little closer with his arm around her shoulders. “‘M fine as long as I get t’be with you, Angel. ‘S long as there’s no more hair drama and Teo, ‘m happy as can be.”

With a sigh, Y/N took a sip of her hot chocolate, the warm, rich sweetness doing its job of relaxing her after the chaos of the evening. Ren’s arm felt solid around her, and she was grateful for the comfort, even if his clinginess could be a little overwhelming at times.

“You know,” she broke the silence, glancing up at him with a half-amused look, “sometimes I wonder if you’re more trouble than the rest of them combined.”

Ren raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing grin. “Only when y’not around, love.”

She only rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. She glanced back at the group, who had finally settled down. Jae-hyun was filming something ridiculous with Teo and Leon, their earlier arguments long forgotten in the wake of new shenanigans. 

Violet, Kiara, and Elanor stood nearby, each holding a hot chocolate, chatting and laughing. It felt like everything had come full circle—the chaos of earlier fading into a quiet, easy warmth. 

“Ready t’head home?" Ren asked, noticing the soft yawn that escaped Y/N’s lips.

"Yeah, I think it's about time! And honestly, I'm freezing," she admitted, shivering slightly.

Ren leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around her to pull her in. "’M gonna help keep you nice and toasty f’the next week. After all, y’promised that if I talked to those two… well, you'd spend the whole week w’me."

"Oh, right. I did say that, didn't I?"

Ren chuckled, but Y/N’s attention shifted to the side. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Elanor and Teo with their arms wrapped around each other. A soft smile tugged at her lips as her gaze met Ren’s, her eyes meeting his with a quiet understanding.

“…I think I’d like that.”

❄️

On the walk back to Y/N’s apartment, Ren held her hand, warming it up by blowing on it and kissing her knuckles. She let out a soft puff of laughter.

“Ren, what are you doing?”

“Nothin’. Just wanted t’kiss y’cute hands,” he teased.

Ren paused, before he smirked, a joking look on his handsome face. “‘Just got an intrusive thought n’ thought I’d share. Don’t y’think ice skates would make a good mvrder weapo—”

“No.”

⛸️ / the end! (if there’s any grammar errors let me know! thank you for reading<3)

[leqonsluv3r]

naughty little bunny

re4!leon kennedy x innocent!fem reader

— a oneshot

warnings: MDNI, 18+, dom!leon, sub!reader, reader is innocent but not stupid, established relationship/dynamic, unprotected sex, leon calls reader bunny, spitting (if you squint), praise, degradation, knife play, reader is female (she/her) pronouns used, spanking, scratching, some aftercare, reader has hair long enough to pull (but no other descriptions).

“she was quiet, like a rabbit. she was methodical with her actions. almost seemingly innocent as she used his knife to hide behind her back. almost as if she was going to stab someone, she heard a noise. a creak in the house. she was tiny, fragile and defenseless except for the knife sheathed behind her frame. she was ready to leap, to pounce until she heard his voice. "bunny..." slow and mercifully calling to her. she was damned.”

— or leon catches reader using his knife and decides to punish her for it

an: this is so long awaited it’s crazy, sorry for the delay my lovelies <3

masterlist taglist

she lays in bed, her body pulled tight under the covers, her body laying in a string of pale skin and tight limbs. she has hickeys over her bare body, her long hair strewn across the pillow. she keeps her eyes closed and opened as she awakes.

another morning of just lying in bed, naked and exhausted as her petite body recovers from leon’s punishment from last night. she smiles weakly at the memory, her body resting against the black sheets.

his touch ghosting over her skin from the night before. he left early in the morning as he always does. it makes her sad but she knows better, he works and does the things he does so she’ll never live like she did before.

he does it for her, he loves her deep down. even if he never says it out loud, she knows.

it’s the same everyday, she stays home. she cleans and cooks, lounges on the couch. it’s not like she didn’t want to just be a stay at home…girlfriend. but he insisted when they’re arrangement got more serious, giving that his undisclosed job was dangerous.

she didn’t ask questions. she knew better, she knew that he was protecting her. keeping her in his possession out of the fear that she would find someone better. which wasn’t possible in her mind.

she knew things, but things she probably shouldn’t because of how private he was. how much he kept things under lock and key, for her own good? probably. she could see the look in his eyes sometimes when he came home from his “work-trips”.

this look that said everything without saying anything at all. he had seen things, things that were probably beyond her comprehension. of course she had questions, doubts, who wouldn’t?

he spoiled her, gave her a home and started taking care of her. giving her a less shitty life. she doesn’t know where it’s going or why he chose of her of all women. two years ago seems so far away now, so not real and she doesn’t know if she’s just numb to it now, or if she’s just too happy with the sex, love and money to care.

eventually, she gets out of bed, pulling the black sheets off of her bare body that’s covered in hickeys and marks of leon’s love. she grabs her pale pink silk robe from the chair and ties it around her bare body.

she looks around the bedroom, sighing. he didn’t even leave a note this time. she thinks to herself as she opens up the curtains to the bedroom, looking outside at the large front yard. the large trees rustling as a small wind blew through them. her flowers that she planted in the garden; a mix of tulips and lilies.

she loved the little additions she had made to his home, their home, even after two years she had to keep reminding herself that she lived there too. even if he did pay for everything.

she protested at first, wanting to contribute, but he told her he was okay with it. that his job paid enough, so she didn’t argue. he didn’t protest when she started picking out furniture, buying her clothes, letting her plant flowers and start a small garden.

he would just smile, nod and hand his card over to her. he never argued. it was when she didn’t follow his orders that he got…upset. he would punish her, even though she was supposed to hate the spanks that left her ass red and bruising, she enjoyed it.

even though she knew deep down she shouldn’t, but she didn’t really care anymore. he was always gentle and rough in the times where it really mattered. she deep down craved it, knowing that if she ever did decide to leave him, she’d never be the same again.

he was unlike anyone she had ever met before. she moved to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, padding her bare feet across the cold tile. she took a minute to look at her appearance in the mirror. the hickeys had swarmed all over her neck like a necklace of some kind.

she lets her fingers trace them with a light touch, sending shivers at the memories of the look. she cracks a small smile. she knows that she is never going to ever forget this, forget his touch.

but she wonders, even if deep down he could ever tell her that he loves her. that he could emotionally open and just tell her. she’s gonna have to find out. but until then she’s just going to wait.

and hopefully he will.

she hopes.

later in the day, she finished cleaning, working in her garden. then she came back in, took a shower. she then blowed dried her hair and styled it as she liked. she put on a tennis skirt and just a tank top and decided to maybe take a nap for a little bit.

she was already exhausted and she had only been up and around for six hours. she let her body relax into the black duvet cover of the bed on her side. her body relaxing into the sheets again as she tried to take a nap. she needed it, at least she felt like she was obligated to it.

she had done what she needed too, taken care of almost everything about the house. she sighed and rolled to face away from the window and moving her face to press into his pillow on his side of the bed.

she inhales him on his pillow, smelling the leon smell that came with him. she smelled the hint of his cologne on the sheets and the subtle smell of his shampoo. it was hard not having him around most of the times. he had taken a week off two months ago, and that was the best week of her life.

just sex, food, sleeping and just them.

but inhaling him now, on the sheets in the bed they shared. it was almost like a drug, a small dose of it that left her wanting more.

she groaned into the sheets, upset. “fuck…” she sighed as she rolled on her back, she looked up at the ceiling of their bedroom. could he be any slower getting home? she thinks as she lets her hands drift to her inner thigh underneath her skirt.

just then as she’s about to get closer to where she really wants her hands, a slam echos through downstairs and she jumps out of bed. her heart pounding in her body as she scrambled over to where leon kept his knifes and other small weapons.

she reached into the drawer and grabbed the knife, holding it behind her back and clicking it open as she quietly opens the door. she carefully creeps down the hallway, her blood pumping fast in her veins.

her breath running fast through her throat, as her heart pounds in her ears. she creeps down the stairs. he usually called out when he was home, or he didn’t slam the door as hard. she didn’t know if it was him, if it was, he was home early.

she keeps the knife of his blade right behind her as she moves, creeping steadily as her breath comes out short. she rounds the corner to the kitchen slowly, looking to see leon standing there.

she breathed a sigh of relief and put a hand over her heart, “thank god.” she breathes out, causing him to turn around and look at her with raised eyebrows. “you okay, bunny?” he asks with a small crooked smirk on his features.

she moved the knife from behind her back to click it shut and hold it, concealing it in her palm. “i just thought you were an intruder.” she chuckles nervously as she looks at him. running her free hand over her face.

“your lucky i’m not.” he mumbled as he dropped his work bag on the counter and looked over at her. her body sheathed behind the corner to the kitchen, she hides her palm with his knife there.

“i suppose.” she hums as she smiles softly at him, her body resting half against the wall. she sheathes the knife in her palm, “your acting weird.” he observes as he looks her over with a trained eye.

she swallows and shakes her head, smiling nervously, “no i’m not, i’m just…your home early. i didn’t expect you to be.” she says with a small avert of her eyes to her feet. he clicks his tongue, shaking his head with a small smirk, he slowly saunters over to where she is.

“give it.” he says sternly as he towers over her, holding out his large hand. “i know you have something that your not supposed to. give it.” he says in a still stern voice, his blue eyes piercing into hers like knives. she feels her panties dampen at his command but she shakily obeys him, moving her palm to give him the concealed knife.

she lays it in his palm, removing her hand and letting it drop back by her side as everything within her screamed: this isn’t good. he’s mad, abandon ship! but he just sighed and shook his head as he looked down at one of his knives. “why did you have this?” he says in a low voice, holding it up in his hands in front of her face.

she shakily breathes, “i thought you were an intruder, like i said.” she says in a small breath as she looks from the knife to him, praying to god that he wasn’t mad or upset with her in any capacity. he chuckles dryly, his blue eyes glimmering a little as he raised an eyebrow at her, “and you thought a knife was going to do something? do you even know how to use this?”

he held up the knife and even clicked it open for emphasis, her breath failing her, her panties dampening at his voice. “n-no? i mean, i’ve seen movies and stuff, i thought it was…pretty simple.” she explains with a small nervous smile as she moves a little on her feet.

he hums in amusement, a grin forming on his face. “it’s anything but simple, baby. you wouldn’t stand a chance against someone with just this knife.” he says in a almost menacing voice. he holds it up to show her but then he quickly moves it to her throat.

she sucks in a breath and her eyes go wide as she looks at him, she looks at his face with fear as the cold metal kisses the pale skin of her throat. she tries to move her head against the wall to get away from the edge of the knife. “they could turn it on you in a second.” he snaps with his free hand to emphasize his point as he looms over her on the wall, she can barely feel the edge of the blade on her skin.

“i-i get it…can you…can you please get it away from me? this isn’t…funny.” she manages to get out nervously as she looks up at him, trying to be aware of the knife against her throat.

he eyes her, nodding slowly, still keeping that smirk on his face. “i’ll take it off after you learn not to put your hands on my knives when you don’t even know what the hell your doing.” he says in frustration, the veins on his arm constricting as he presses the knife in a little.

she felt her blood pumping faster and faster, her heart pounding in her ears. she nods slowly as she’s frozen in fear and she looks up at him. she knew that this was going to end up in a punishment like it always did.

she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt him drag the blade down her throat. she feels the cool metal over her collarbone and onto the bra strap peeking out beneath her tank top. she shuddered as she felt him let it go under the bra strap and the tank top strap, and with one foul swoop he sliced it open.

she gasped as the bra and tank top snapped under the blade on one side. she let her chest heave up and down in fear as she felt arousal going to her core. he watched her face, seeing her flushed cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

he knew he was having an affect on her. he wasn’t stupid. he had been with her long enough to know when she was aroused from being punished.

“oh? you like the knife huh?” he says with a mocking tone towards her, running the blade of the knife to the other side of her chest and snapping the other side of her bra and tank top strap off. she flinched again, sucking in a breath and sending daggers his way.

“i’ll buy you a new one.” he says as if he can read the look in her eyes. she was obviously using the fact that he cut her bra off the knife as an excuse to be mad. just so he maybe wouldn’t punish her as bad, yeah, not gonna happen.

she swallows a whimper as he runs the knife over her hot skin and chest, he pulls the ruined tank top and bra down, showcasing her breasts to him fully now. “oh my, gorgeous girl. these fucking tits…” he trails off as he makes a small noise.

“perfect titties baby, all mine.” he says in a low voice as he runs the back of the knife over her nipples, the metal from the knife makes her release a small moan. she can feel them hardening, her pulse pumping from the danger and the sensation.

he chuckles lowly, “you like that? mmm, of course you do.” he says with a small look of amusement in his eyes, his hand moving the knife away from her entirely. “go bend over on the countertop, bunny. strip. you need to be punished.” he says in a demand, not as a question.

she feels her pussy pulse around nothing, practically dripping and needy at this point, a blush covering her face as she walks over to the kitchen island, stripping off her ruined tank top and bra, then sliding her skirt down her legs, then her underwear that are practically soaked through by now.

she lets them pool on the kitchen floor, he watches this with a small smirk of satisfaction and approval on his face. “bend over. you know the drill.” he says with a small grin, she nods slowly because she does know the drill, she knows what happens next.

she’s practically eager for it.

so she bends over the island in the kitchen, her nipples and breasts pressing against the cold surface and making her shiver. goosebumps erupting all over her skin at the cool air of the kitchen, her pussy and ass exposed to him as he slowly walks up behind her.

he clips the knife shut and puts it on the kitchen table before walking up behind her and rubbing his hand over the curve of her ass. “such a beautiful little ass. i think im gonna paint it red.” he says with a low voice as he grins. she bites her lip and feels his words go straight to her pussy.

he then lifts his hand up after a couple moments before bringing it down and smacking her left cheek hard, making her squeal a little. she gave up on trying to keep her noises inside, it was pointless. “mmm,” he licks his lips, rubbing over the red mark on her ass that was slowly forming.

“needs more red.” he says with a smile that was anything but genuine or gentle in this moment. he lifts up his hand again and brings it down on her right cheek this time. this causes her to release a noise mixed with a moan and a whimper. “oh bunny,” he lightly smacks both of her cheeks this time.

“this is what happens when you touch my stuff.” he says with a small mocking pout, she can’t even see his face but she can hear the cockiness, assertiveness dripping from his voice like molasses.

he spanks her again, and again and again.

until she’s practically leaking down the inside of her thigh, her cheek is pressed against the cool countertop and she’s gasping and whining. he clicks his tongue, not denying how his erection is painfully throbbing in his work pants.

“i think you’ve learned your lesson, bunny. what was it again?” he says with a small hint of amusement in his voice as he rubs his hands over the flesh of her ass, soothing over her reddened cheeks.

she sniffles and bites her lip, nearly making it bleed. “not to touch your stuff.” she manages to get out in a strained voice, he nods and smiles. “very good.” he says with a small little tap of her bare hip.

“turn around and lay on the counter for me. you’ve learned your lesson, now it’s time for your reward.” he says with a small grin, unbuttoning his pants. she nods slowly and shakily slides to stand up and turn around on her feet, wobbling a little. he braces a hand on her bare hip, “easy now, don’t fall.” he says with a small smile.

she knows he’s being a little nicer now, but she knows the switch is going to flip again and he’s gonna fuck her until she can’t walk or see straight. which is exactly what she wants and craves. and she feels relief now, relief that she wanted deep down in her bones. this was her kryptonite.

she swallows, hopping up on the counter and feeling the cool marble against the flesh of her red and stinging ass. she hisses through her teeth but accepts it and lays back, her long hair splayed throughout the counter as she feels the marble kiss the delicate skin of her back.

“good girl.” she hears him say as he pushes his pants and boxers down, looking over her body with a small bite of his lip. his praise went straight to her core, her body making her leak all over the countertop.

he released his hardened erection from his boxers, her teeth bit down on her lip in long awaited anticipation of what was about to come. he was always big to her, nothing could match how he felt inside of her.

she was practically drooling at the sight of it, keeping her legs spread on the countertop as she leaned off of her elbows. her bare back coming in contact with the cold marble countertop, as he stepped between her spread legs.

“my sweet little, bunny.” he hums lowly as he runs his hands over the plains over her stomach, admiring the way she shivered beneath his touch. “soaking all over the kitchen, so fucking messy…” she hears him say as he runs the head of his dick through her folds, making her release a small whimper.

“please. just…fuck me…” she manages to get out as she wiggles a little bit, her fists clenched uselessly at her sides as she waits for him to stop teasing her already. he shakes his head, spanking her ass lightly again, “your not in any position to make demands right now, bunny.” he says lowly, almost dangerously as he strips off his t-shirt, tossing it on the floor.

he jacks his cock a little, running the tip over her soaked folds again. the tip catches her clit and it makes her release a small moan. his low tone making her pathetically clench around nothing, she almost hated how him being mean made her so wet.

he leaned over her as she laid on the counter, his length resting hard on her folds as she feels him run his fingers over her cheek in a soft caress. “you gonna be a good girl? accept your reward?” he says with a small daring raise of his brow, an evil smirk settling onto his angelic features.

she doesn’t even have to think before she’s nodding, desperately wanting him inside of her. she wants to feel consumed by him, feel him hold her, feel him absolutely bruise her cervix. she doesn’t care anymore, her thoughts are just; him, him, him. and all on repeat.

he hums lowly, moving a little which causes his dick to prod at her soaked opening. she instinctively grabs onto his bicep at this and releases a pathetic little noise, “mmm, gonna stretch you out all over again. make sure your body doesn’t forget me.” he says in a low rasp as he leans down and lets his hand caress her jaw.

her body melts at his words, her pussy reacting to it more then herself. he taps the side of her jaw as he leans over her, “open.” she doesn’t even have to think either before she’s opening her mouth and he’s releasing spit into her open mouth.

“now swallow and then i’ll fuck you, bunny.” he says demandingly as she closes her mouth and swallows, feeling his saliva slide down her throat. she sticks out her tongue for him, showing him that she did it. he nods in an affirming way, reaching down between them and sticking just the tip in.

she almost would see stars if her eyes weren’t open, she’s sure of it. she feels her mouth fall open, her head rolling back. he pushes in just a little bit more and she wraps her ankles around his back, her hands sliding around and onto his back.

“taking it so well, knew she’d remember me.” he says in a strangled voice as he furrows his brows, pushing into her more until she was filled to the brim with him. all she could think of was she was so full, her nails slightly digging into his back, her eyes fluttering open and shut beneath him. the praise making her pussy and her head swim in delight and lust.

she could only release a strangled noise, he caresses her hair out of her eyes delicately as he leans over her, letting her adjust to his size again. “doing so good, baby. your so good.” he says in a small strangled release of his voice.

she whines and makes noises that would make a grown man blush scarlet as he pumps in and out of her at a punishing pace. his long and thick cock hitting that spot inside of her that made her see heaven and earth. her nails digging into his back and scratching deep, he lets out a low groan at this.

it doesn’t slow him down, just eggs him on. he keeps moving his hips, hitting that spot inside of her over and over again. her head is empty, all she can think of his him and his dick, feeling so fucking full and just euphoric.

“you close, bunny? gonna come all over my cock?” he says in a strained voice, she can tell he’s close too. he wants to feel her come around him, let her climax push him over the edge. she nods rapidly and releases lewd noises at his words, he reaches down and grabs her thigh that’s wrapped around his waist, pushing it up higher.

the new angle making her practically draw blood on his back, his chest heaving over her as he grunts and groans, making her whimper. every hit and punch of his dick to her cervix is bringing her closer and closer. he reaches down between them with his free hand and rubs her clit.

the sensation does what it’s supposed too, flinging her over the edge as she releases cry after cry, moaning and feeling tears of desire leak out of her eyes. she clenches around him as she comes, he groans and buries his head into her neck.

“so fucking good, gonna come inside, baby. paint your pretty walls white.” he growls against her skin as he picks up his sloppy and stuttering pace, her fingernails still digging into his back as he fucks her through her orgasm to chase his own.

his words making her back arch and her spine stiffen as he finally comes with a few more languid thrusts. releasing a small moan into the skin of her neck. his cum filling her up, making her fuller then ever and she can feel it. the familiar and foreign feeling that feels oddly comforting in a way she can’t describe.

she feels him press a small kiss to the skin of her neck, kissing his way up gently to her lips. his chest heaving from his previous release as he looks straight down at her, her eyes connecting with his in a way that makes her blush. makes her feel embarrassed after so long but oddly connected.

“i love you. you know that right?” he says and finally, finally her confirmations are there. her head moves to nod, looking up at him with a languid smile, “i know.” she whispers, her mouth dry. both of their skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the sex they had just had.

but the words ring out in her mind like gunshots, making her wanna cry. she doesn’t but she finally knows, all the actions and things he’s said since they’ve been together have been solidified. she feels like she could die a happy woman if she passed away right now.

he smiles, a rare occurrence, down at her. he leans down and presses a slow kiss to her lips, tasting her and conveying another message through his actions instead of his words.

after he pulls away from the kiss, he slowly pulls out of her. it leaves her oddly vulnerable and cold, he notices the change and grabs a paper towel from the roll on the kitchen island and wipes the inside of her thighs and where she was leaking with his release.

“feel better?” she hears him ask, she nods with a small lovesick grin on her features. she absolutely feels better. not a thing is wrong for her right now. she feels like she’s where she needs to be, right here with him.

“yeah, much better.” she says softly, a scarlet covering her cheeks as she sits up on the counter. this prompts him to pull his boxers and pants back up, tucking himself away. “i love you too…” she starts and his head peeks up and looks at her as she sits on the counter.

a cheeky smile before she continues, “in case you didn’t know.” she adds with a small giggle. he rolls his eyes playfully and steps in between her bare legs, moving some of her sweaty hair away from her forehead, “i did know babygirl, but thank you for telling me.” he whispers sweetly.

and he’s only sweet with her, she knows that. she knows she is special to him, just as he’s special to her. his girl, his bunny, his love. everything that he wants her to be, she’ll be for him. and she’ll do it with pride. because he loves her and she loves him just as much.

if not more.

an: go to this post to join the taglist (also linked at the beginning with my masterlist), pls reblog and follow for more, my asks are open in my bio. i missed posting oneshots, this one (amongst others) has been sitting in my drafts for the longest. so my apologies. i love you all <33

taglist: @heartsforvin



[natalievoncatte]

The first time Kara Danvers touched Lena Luthor was seared on her memory. Lena had offered her hand in the usual way and Kara took it, but it was no ordinary handshake. Her grip was firm, but not controlling, and her flesh was warm, almost feverish. The handshake was like Kara herself- bold and brash at first, then softening, letting Lena take the lead almost with a sense of relief.

(Later, in a darkened room with an empty whisky bottle by her head and a broken picture frame clutched to her chest, Lena would realize that had *not* been the first time that Kara had touched her; the first time was to save her, rescue her, protect her, to bend steel one moment and reassure a terrified woman the next, and that first touch had set a tone for the others, a surpassing tenderness she didn’t deserve)

The next touch she remembered was Kara gently tapping her shoulder on a restaurant terrace. Lena had tensed at the brush of fingers on her shoulder, looking up sharply with a stabbing fear in her gut- it was the first time she’d dined out casually and publicly since her brother committed a literal crime against humanity. She wouldn’t dare do something so ordinary in Metropolis; she’d be lucky if there were only protesters with signs as she was leaving. Only when she arrived in National City did she let her guard down, both literally and figuratively. Kara’s impossibly soft fingers on her bare shoulder jolted her from her reading and she felt that spike of terror for just a moment before she met a pretty smile and those lovely, strangely haunted blue eyes greeting her.

Lena had built walls of steel and stone and pain and the woman who came from the sky took them apart touch by touch, not with fists but with back-pats and handshakes and hugs until there was nothing left but a bare soul, exposed and raw like a frayed nerve, with only Kara to protect it.

The next time it happened was at a gala. It wasn’t an important one and Kara was frankly bullshitting Lena by asking her to tag along to “report” on the goings-on. Lena knew it would be painfully boring for Kara because it was painfully boring for her.

That was what she thought, anyway, until Kara, bold sweet Kara, rested a guiding hand on the small of Lena’s back and lit up every nerve in ending in her body like a Christmas tree, as she defensively stood proud next to Lena, towering over her and the randy city councilman both. She wouldn’t know until later, much later, why Kara had seemed so much more herself, more true, in that moment.

After that was one of the most painful nights in her life. Lena had always known she was trash, that she was nothing but one of Lionel Luthor’s by-blows; sometimes she could hear Lilian at the funeral, snarling at her that she only existed because her father was a second too late to waste her on her mother’s thigh where she belonged. The world didn’t care about her hospital or her charity work or the effort she’d put into making her company a positive force in the world. Someone told them she poisoned the children and the goodwill was gone in a puff of smoke like the thin, gossamer thing it had been. Once a Luthor, always a Luthor.

Then Kara was there, a living, loving fortress of bone and muscle and love, wrapping Lena so tightly in a shield of pure compassion that she could have survived anything, that even as the tears fell she knew that she could live in a world that hated her so long as this one person could would love her so much. Kara carried her through that storm and more besides.

That was also the night that Lena began using her own touch as a substitute, a pale imitation of the one she wanted from Kara but knew she would never have.

But they did not always touch.

Later, after more hugs and more lingering hands and shared dances, they would sit next to each other for nights of games or movies, and their friends would begin to make innuendos and begin to stare and Lena let herself pretend that the touches were more than they were.

In the darkest hours of the night Lena would lie in an empty bed and pray for touches.

Then the worst thing happened, and she denied the touch. Kara reached out, meaning to console, to comfort, to protect, to make it all better with her maddening power, but there was no fixing it. In the frozen tomb that was Kara’s arctic fortress, Lena buried Kara alive in a green hell and wished never to be touched again.

But her anger did not last forever. It never does. They fought, they argued, Kara ruined her plans, called her a villain, resisted her at every turn… but never touched her. Those soft hands were never laid upon her in anger and there were times when Lena almost wanted it, just to feel them again.

Then one day Lena saw too much and learned too much and the enormity of what she had done came down upon her, rushing in on her all at once, and she was as raw and naked and pained as she had been that night long ago when she first realized what Kara’s touches meant.

When she rushed back to the rent controlled side of town, going on foot for fear her brother would learn of her destination if she took the car, she only had wanted to set things right. She knew she didn’t deserve what she’d already been given and would ask no more.

Kara was waiting for her. When she opened the door she stood tall, jaw set, hair down over a pastel cardigan. The effect of Supergirl’s stern, righteous conviction garbed in the soft, inviting form of Kara made her heart do a flip, almost made her run, but she held her ground, feeling like a child begging forgiveness from a hurricane.

Lena stood before the open door, trembling and shaking, tears cutting red lines down her cheeks as she explained herself.

She didn’t expect Kara to touch her, so when it happened she flinched, almost yelped. When those powerful arms wrapped around her, it was as if nothing had changed, but everything had changed, because for the first time, Lena touched her back.

Lena touched her back without fear or reservation. She touched her back without the nervousness that came with hugging her Straight Best Friend. She hugged her back without deceit. She hugged her back with absolute conviction, saying with her arms and hands what her ever broken heart could never speak in words.

Kara’s touch answered her. She cupped Lena’s chin with a softness, a gentle control that no human could ever have, even as she closed the apartment door with such intensity that it left a hand print in the metal. The touches changed; they were no longer announcements but conversations, exchanges, dances and music at the same time. The world became a blur, a dreamscape of hands lifting her from the floor and relieving her of her coat and laying her on a bed, each caress a declaration that Lena answered with her own.

When their lips met, Lena poured into them every thought, every desire, every pain, every longing. She would have swallowed Kara if she could, climbed inside her, and Kara’s hands and lips begged and adored and instructed and finally, after, in morning sunlight, Lena buried her face in a sleeping Kara’s shoulder and wept her joy and freedom, because at last she was home.

When Alex came and Kara told her that Lena would help them safe the world, they were holding hands.

They would be holding hands again much later, after much love and loss and hope and joy, when Kara closed a delicate bracelet around Lena’s wrist.

[wonnieluv]

Goodness knows, the wicked’s lives are lonely - Sim Jake

Summary: Jake Sim doesn’t know what year it is, he doesn’t know what month it is, he doesn’t know what day it is, and he doesn’t care. Ever since that fateful day in 1692, he stopped caring. Now, it’s 2024 and he’s grown more violent, more vengeful, more cold, more… alone

vampire!Jake x fem!reader

warnings: death, themes of reincarnation, blood, y/n’s life is not easy, suggestive, biting, kissing. lmk if I missed anything

masterlist

The smell of fire was overpowering, screams echoed off of the trees but they were not afraid, no… they were… excited, passionate, enraged.

He remained where he was, hidden in the trees as he watched the people march through the forest, his forest. They carried torches that burned an angry shade of orange against the trees.

The angry crowd halted at a large tree deep in the forest. Not much could be seen from the back of the crowd, but through the smoke, a young girl could be seen climbing a platform. Her tear streaked skin illuminated by the glow to the torches as the crowd shouted curses at her.

“Burn the witch!”

“Kill that spawn of Satan”

As she looked upon the sea of angry faces she once knew. The smiles she used to see now replaced with scowls as their mouths cursed her.

In the midst of her thoughts she failed to feel the toughness of the rope against her neck until it was too late. Harsh hands shoved her off of the platform. Her told hands keeping her from struggling as she was left there to die

“what… have you done”

An angry voice boomed from deep within the woods. He stepped out onto the path. Fangs gritted in a snarl, claw-like hands bared, eyes glowing a bright red due to the reflection of the fire form the torches. His aura was fierce and intimidating as he approached the crowd. He was angry.

Without hesitation he immediately began to kill. Clawing hands clawing the chest of anyone who dared step in his path. Fangs plunging deep into the necks of every person in his sight.

By the time he laid your body on the ground, your head in his lap; tears no longer fell from your eyes. The heat that once warmed his palms as he caressed your cheeks has now almost completely disappeared. Your eyes still wide open as they gazed up at him as his own tears began to wet your pale cheeks.

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t protect you… I couldn’t save you on time my love…”

“Return to me please… Y/N…” He finished with a final kiss to your forehead as he lay you peacefully to rest.

From that moment forward, Sim Jaeyun would proceed to break every single promise he once made you.

He began to feed on humans again as he did before he met you, only this time, he was far more violent, more cruel, more… wicked.

࿎

Within the vampire world, there are councils and laws to regulate how much human blood vampires were allowed to consumed within certain time frames as the consumption of human blood has the ability to increase a vampires powers.

Sim Jaeyun no longer cared for the rules. He fed, and fed, and fed, and fed. He recklessly killed any human he wanted whenever he wanted. He didn’t care. No matter how many he killed, he couldn’t satisfy the need for revenge.

In response the higher powers banished him to an eternal prison deep in the forest where he now resides.

“They say he is bound by a magical barrier and is unable to leave the woods. They say that’s why the woods are off limits because you can no longer be protected if you step into the barrier. They say- what?! I’m not done yet” the older boy sneered at the 4-year-old who eagerly raised a hand.

“W-well what about his family. Does he get to see his mom and dad?” She asks with wide eyes

“Are you serious” the boy scoffs “He’s a monster, a wicked, blood-thirsty monster. He’s better off alone. Anyways as I was saying…”

You had heard many of the tales of the castle nestles deep within the forest. Whether you believed them or not, you were still unsure. All you know, is that the castle exists and anyone who has ever step foot in the forest has not lived to tell the tale.

Now, at the age of 20, you stare out the window at the looming spires you can see just over the tree line from the window of the orphanage you work in. The orphanage you once called home- well, still called home. Your life had been nothing easy.

Since you can remember, you’ve lived within the walls of the orphanage. No family in the town wanted to adopt you, so, you found yourself staring out the window wondering what life was like in the rest of the world. What life would be like when you finally escaped this forsaken town.

Now, as you stumble into adulthood, you’re not sure if you ever will. You were smart enough, forced to quit high school halfway through to help the older women with the young kids at the orphanage.

As December came with the cold whisper of winter, things proceeded to go as they always did. That is, until the prized daughter of the mayor of your town disappeared into the woods one night. The mayor had decided enough was enough.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, we shall sacrifice a loyal town member, a pure member of our community to try and please whatever lays beyond the edges of the forest”

I pity the poor soul who’ll end up being sacrificed due to the madness of this town. You thought as you continued to clean.

What you didn’t expect, was to be the poor soul stood at the edge of the woods while the entire town beckoned her to step in. To walk the old path to the dark castle deep in the forest. But who were you kidding no cared for an unwanted orphan anyways

You held your head high and stepped onto the path. Faint footprints of the forests last victims still visible as you trudge through the cold. You don’t look back, you don’t cry, you just walk.

You keep your eyes ahead of you, bracing for whatever lies ahead of you. Eventually the footprints in the snow disappear. Maybe the last victim didn’t make it this far, or maybe the snow covered them. You opt to believe the second option in naive optimism.

The first gets thicker as you move further into the forest until you make it to the one place you never imagined you’d ever be. The castle.

In that instance you hear rustling behind you. As you turn around, the last thing you see is the movement of black fabric against the wind before the whole world goes dark.

࿎

It’s been 331 years and 90 days since you were taken away from him but who’s counting.

Jake is. Does he know what year it is? No. Does he know what month it is? No. Does he know what the date is? No. All he knows is it’s been

331 years and 90 days since you were taken from him.

331 years and 90 days since he’s vengefully killed every human who put you to death.

331 years and 90 days since he has felt any emotion other than hatred and anger.

You see to him, loving you was the easiest thing he’s ever done.

Having you by his side was more important to him than drinking human blood, than hearing the screams of fear and pain as he drained his victims, than having people cower at the mention of his name.

But you were gone…

And now here he is, banished to these woods where he can only feed on the few foolish humans who attempt to prove he doesn’t exist.

Very few animals live here anymore, he killed them all.

He lounges around the castle until the scent of his next meal hits his nostrils, he rushes to claim his next victim before returning the castle and waits around for the next one.

This has continued for years, probably centuries at this point, but again… who’s counting?

Here he is today, he could sense the presence of a large group of people outside the forest, maybe this time he’ll have a feast on his hands. He smirks at the thought. He decides to take his time with this one. Why not play with his food a little?

Well that was the plan, until he smelled something. A scent he hasn’t smelled in 331 years and 90 days.

it can’t be…

Before he knew it he was standing behind a young girl in a white cloak as she trudged along the path shivering in the cold with nothing but a lantern to light her way.

“Y/N” he whispers to himself

He continued to follow you silently as you continued on your way towards his castle. Your scent was intoxicating. It has taken every last bit of self control for him to not bring you into his arms and turn you for eternity as he should have over 300 years ago. But he resisted as he knew, you aren’t the same person he once loved.

As you reached the bottom of the palace steps, he stepped out of the shadows. He noticed your body trembling as your features have become pale due to the cold of the winter. In a blue of panic and impulse he rushed to you. The next thing he knew, your body had fallen limp in his arms.

He just sat there. On the steps of his castle with your body limp and cold in his arms. The image reminiscent of that day he lost you for what felt like an eternity.

He rushed inside the castle with you in his arms. He laid you gently on the bed in the bedroom he kept as his own (despite the fact that he doesn’t sleep). With panicked eyes and shaky hands he tended to you. Wrapped you warmly in the blankets and even lit a fire in the fireplace while surrounding the bed with candles to keep you warms.

Once he felt he had done enough, he sat on the floor next to the bed and help your hand in his as he stared at you. He wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms and hold you once again, but he knows that wouldn’t be fair to you, so he’ll wait. He’s waited an eternity to see you again, what’s a couple more hours until you wake up?

࿎

Hell. That’s where you’ve deemed you are. In the deep pits of hell. Your body sweating, your head throbbing. The first thing you see when you open your eyes is red. Red walls, red furniture, red blankets.

Where in the 50 shades am I…

You use your hands to help yourself sit up, or… you tried to. As you look to your left hand you see it’s being held… by another hand. When you trace the hand to its owner your met with the pale face and dark eyes of a man you’ve never seen before.

“Oh my god!” You immediately jump back

“No no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…” he immediately stands up trying to reach out to you

“Don’t touch me!” You continue to back away from him until you reach the other end of the bed. You immediately stand up on wobbly legs

“Please sit back down. I’ll explain everything! your body is still recovering form the cold…” he says in a panicked manner.

You look into his eyes as you try to read him but you can’t. Yet for some reason, your mind is giving you no reason to not trust him and your heart… your heart is urging you to move closer to him.

You only partially listen to your heart as you sit back down on the edge of the bed.

“Who… who are you?” You ask

He sits next to you, leaving a reasonable amount of space before he answers.

“My name is Sim Jaeyun… but you can call me Jake... and I’m the vampire who resides in this forest.” He softly explains

Your breath hitches “so the stories were true…”

“Mmm” he hums in response

“So you’ve killed all those people… all this time… and I’m next…?” You don’t look at him as a tears trickles down your face. You know the answer already but you still asked.

“Yes… I did kill all of those people… but no… I’m not going to kill you” He says as he slightly inches towards you and reaches up to wipe your tears.

You slightly flinch at the contact of his hand on your face before your body subconsciously relaxes into his touch.

“Hey… look at me” he cups your face with both of his hands guiding you to look at him “I won’t kill you. I would never kill you. I can’t lose you… not again…” his voice trails off at the end

“…again…?“ Your head snaps up as you try to search his eyes for an answer

“I’ll explain that in time but… you need some warmer clothes and some food” he points to a bathroom behind you “there’s clothes in there for you. I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen when you’re done” he smiles as he rises from the bed.

You almost want to pull his wrist back, missing to feeling of him being near you but you remind yourself this is a deadly vampire.

I’m the moment your stomach grumbles.

Well if he poisons me at least I’ll die with a full stomach

࿎

After changing into new warm clothes, you make your way to the kitchen. The smell guiding your nose to the spacious kitchen where you see Jake cooking… ramen?

“I didn’t know supernatural beings ate ramen? I thought you were bound to this forest?” You try to suppress a giggle

He whips his head around in surprise not hearing you approach despite his heightened senses.

“Oh! Uhhh… yes… well no… I’m not bound. I can leave the forest I’m just invisible to humans. They can’t see me… I can’t touch them” he scratches the back of his neck. You could’ve sworn that if he had blood running through his veins it would’ve rushed to his cheeks.

“It was the first thing I saw when I went to get food” he said sheepishly “if you don’t like it I can go get something else!” He rushes out.

You just laugh at this point. How are you supposed to believe this is the feared vampire that has terrorized your town for generations. This man who doesn’t look over 23 years old, who’s fumbling over making ramen for you… a monster…? There’s no way.

“W-what’s so funny” he says with a nervous smile

“There is no way in hell that you are the monstrous vampire everyone is afraid of… this has to be a prank” you turn around “okay guys! Jokes up! This was funny-”

You barely finish your sentence before your back comes in contact with the counter behind you. You wince slightly and when your eyes open again Jake’s face is hovering above your own adorning a devilish smirk.

“I wish I could prove you right darling…” he chuckles as you feel his breath fan your face “but unfortunately…” he lowers his head to whisper into your ear “I am the monster”

A shiver runs down your spine as you put your hands on his shoulder to support yourself as his head dips down to your neck.

“And I could kill you too…” your breath hitches as you finally feel the sharpness of his fangs graze your neck as his hand cradles your head to keep it in place “but I’ve waited too long to have you with me again”

He leaves a light kiss on your neck before lifting you up to sit on the counter with him in between your legs “so… you should get used to it my love…”

The next thing you know he’s off of you and back to tending to the ramen you had long forgotten about as you’re sat stunned on the counter.

“Now you should eat and get more of your strength back” he smiles at you as he sets a bowl down for you on the table.

You snap out of your daze and hop off of the counter to sit at the table and eat the ramen. You say nothing as your stomach takes over and you begin to eat. As you’re halfway through the bowl you notice he’s staring at you.

“What?” You say as you swallow the next bite.

He blinks out of his trance and clears his throat “oh… nothing”

You continue to eat as he glances at you. You know he’s trying to not stare at you but you decide to not ask about it quite yet and you focus on eating the delicious ramen in front of you.

࿎

After you’ve eaten Jake guided you back to the bedroom you were in earlier.

“You should sleep for now. You’re probably still recovering from the cold earlier” He goes back to the fireplace to tend to the fire to keep the room warm for you.

“How do you know my name…?” He freezes at your question

“W-well… you told me earlier… remember?” He says as he turns back to the fireplace

“No. I didn’t... also I’m not gonna be able to sleep if you don’t answer some of my questions so… why avoid it”

He sighs turning to you “fine… but please… just… ugh” he groans out “no questions until the end”

You nod. He gestures for you to sit on the bed and you do. He sits down with you taking a deep breath.

“I knew you a long time ago” he starts looking out the window. An unfamiliar light in his eyes.

“How long ago?”

“Over 300 years ago”

Your eyes widen at his answer

࿎

Your heart raced in your chest as you ran through the forest. Your lungs burning. You had stayed out far too late and now it was dark. You had to make it home by morning so your only option was to go through the forest by yourself in the dark.

Not far into your journey, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. Without looking back you ran with everything you had. Unfortunately the light of the moon shining above you was obstructed by the thick trees and you tripped on a branch you had not seen.

“Well well… look what he have here…” a man chuckled from behind you.

You turn around and begin to back away seeing two men begin to close in

“No please!” You try to beg

“Look at her… she’s so scared. I bet her blood’s delicious” his tongue poking out to lick over the prominent fangs as the two of them immediately rush at you picking you up and pinning you to a tree

“No…” you flinch bracing to feel the pain but the next thing you know, their hands are off of you…

You look up and see another man fighting both of them off.

“Stop hunting in my territory if you know what’s good for you” he seethes

“Next time you won’t be so lucky Sim” one of the two men spat out as they both turn and in the blink of an eye disappear into the forest

The man they called Sim turned to face you. “Are you alright…”

You flinch back as he tries to approach you “please… just let me be on my way”

He says nothing as he scoops you up into his arms “hold on tight m’lady”

You obey as you lock your arms around his neck. You feel a breeze as he rushes through the forest with you in his arms. It’s all so overwhelming so you bury your head in his neck and close your eyes

“We’ve arrived darling…” he gently lets you down. You open your eyes and immediately recognize the entrance to your town.

“How-? I-I… Thank you sir-” You turn to properly thank him but he had disappeared as quickly as he had appeared in the first place.

You searched for weeks for him until one day you stumbled across his hut in the woods.

He did everything in his power to get you to stay away but you were stubborn. You showed up at the same time every Tuesday and Saturday and just like that… his undead heart began to yearn for you.

He had fallen in love with you. He knew he would do everything to keep you by his side. He loved you passionately as if you’d disappear at any moment until one night… you did.

He searched endlessly for you until he found your scent parked with the smell of… smoke?

“They hung you… someone accused you of witchcraft and that was the end of it…” he breathed out

“The day they took you from me… I vowed to never protect a human the way I had protected you…” you could sense the anger in his voice as he continued.

“I-I didn’t know what to do… I was so angry so I just killed. I killed and killed and killed. All of them-” his words were interrupted by a sensation he never thought he’d ever feel again for the rest of his cursed eternal life

Your soft, warm lips on his

But before he could kiss you back you had pulled away.

“Jake…” you look into his eyes with tears in your own as you hold his face in your hands.

You places on of his hands over your own as he looked into your eyes and for the first time in 331 years and 90 days, a tear slid down his cheek.

“Y-you were- are my everything… and they just took you away from me… I didn’t know what to do” you continue to hold his face in your hands as you wipe is tears as they fall.

You maneuver him to lay down on the bed as you lay with him resting your head on his chest. His arms immediately circle your waist.

“I can’t lose you again” he says as he buries his head into your hair.

“You won’t have to… they all probably think I’m dead…” you say with a hint of sadness lacing your tone.

“What to you mean… they would want to know you’re alive” he runs a hand through your hair

You shake your head as tears of your own form in your eyes “I was sacrificed… to you” you look up at him

You see an immediate shift in his features to anger “how dare they… those filthy humans… they should know better that one sacrifice wouldn’t have been enough anyways, I’ll kill them all some day-”

“Hey hey…” you cut him off “maybe it’s for the best…”

“Y/N… how is this for the best… don’t get me wrong, I’ve yearned for the day I could have you here all to myself for all of time but… that’s not fair to you. What about your family… friends…” he caresses you cheek as worry laced his tone.

“I don’t… have any… I’ve been an orphan my whole life Jake… I’ve been… alone my whole life”

He sits in silence. The anger coursing through his veins only gets stronger hearing you recount how lonely your life has been but he decides to say nothing about it this time. Instead… he utters the words he’s never uttered before…

“Let me turn you… my love. Spend an eternity here… with me…” he says with a kiss to your forehead as he gently caresses your waist where his arm lays.

You look at him. You’ve known this man for a matter of hours, he’s given you no reason to trust you because granting you the ability to keep your life… so why… why do you believe every word that comes off of his tongue. Why do you want to say yes and spend the rest of your life by his side cursed with eternity as you live out your days with him in the castle. Why do you want to let him turn you into the monster everyone believes him to be…

Maybe because… he never was a monster to you. Because you knew deep down as you heard the tales, the whispers of his name on the street… that there’s more to Sim Jaeyun. You’d spent your entire life alone… Jake had spent 331 years and 90 days alone. Maybe, just maybe, he’d make you as happy as he did in your supposed past life.

Your heart speaks before your brain has the chance to…

“Please… let me spend the rest of eternity with you.”

He brings you into a passionate kiss. You can feel every emotion flowing from him. The love he holds for you, the yearning he has felt all this time, the pain he’s felt due to you not being here with him, and the desperation to have you as close as possible.

As he turns your bodies to lay you onto your back he breaks the kiss and looks deep into your eyes

“I’ve waited for this day, for centuries… but I cannot undo it once it’s done my love…” he says as he caresses your cheek once again “are you sure you want this?” He asks searching your eyes.

You nod with a soft smile “Yes Jake… I’m sure”

He smiles before giving you a soft peck.

The next sensation you feel is like fire across every part of your body. It burns but it doesn’t hurt. The venom of his fangs sinking deep into your skin as you link your fingers with Jake’s in one hand and grasp onto his hair with the other. The sensation like nothing you could describe. It was uncomfortable yet soothing. It coursed through your veins until you felt across every inch of your body, and then all the sudden… everything went cold.

As Jake detached from your neck, you could see with blurred vision the blood dripping from his fangs before he rolled over to the side and pulled your back to his chest. With one last kiss to the back of your head he whispered

“Sleep for now my love, when you wake… you will be hungry…”

With that you let your eyelids close knowing that when you woke… Jake would be right there beside you, where he would remain for all of eternity.

This was like 10x more suggestive than I wanted to be so sowwy

tags: @chlorophylliaa

[stevieschrodinger]

Steve eats, but only because Robin puts food in front of him. Only because she reminds him it's for the pup.

Like he needs reminding. Steve often rests his hand protectively over his rounded tummy. It's reflexive, to protect the only part of Eddie he has left. He feels like he hasn't slept in months, even though he knows he sleeps often, in broken bits and pieces.

He hasn't spoken for a long time, he knows that. Everyone watches him, and everyone used to tell him the same thing, 'they're just dreams Steve, Eddie is gone.'

Steve knows though, they aren't dreams. Eddie is alive, and he's trapped in the Upside Down because Steve didn't try hard enough, didn't push hard enough, didn't say the right things to get the others to believe him.

It upset Dustin the most at first, but Dustin has also been the most adamant because he saw Eddie die, can't even entertain the idea that Eddie might still be alive, because that means he left Eddie behind. That's a lot of guilt to ask a kid to carry.

Steve knows they're talking about him again, like them whispering in the kitchen makes it any better. Steve's starving himself. Steve isn't sleeping. Steve isn't showering. Steve's mate sick even if Eddie never mated him. It's the pup. It's the trauma. It's the nightmares.

They aren't nightmares though, not when Eddie holds him close, laid on a grassy meadow under a sunny blue sky.

El is here, kneeling in front of Steve, 'do you really think Eddie is alive?'

Steve clears his throats, feels full of cobwebs and sand, 'I know he is.'

Steve's said it a thousand different ways. A million. He's cried it and screamed it and shouted it and whispered it and said it as normal and level headed as he could make it sound, 'I am absolutely certain that Eddie is alive,' no one ever believes him.

She nods, 'we will check-'

'El.' It's Hopper, in the doorway, he said 'El' the same way he would say 'No'. 'We talked about this-'

'No, you talked about this. I am tired of this, for Steve, I will check. We will check, just this once.'

And Steve feels too broken to let himself hope, but he heaves himself up off the couch anyway.

El opened a gate in the pool. There's not been water in the pool for quite some time now, and it just seemed apt. A place where there is already a weakness in the world. Perfect for El.

In the end, just to stop the fighting, everyone has gone back to the Upside Down.

Steve squints at the sunny blue sky, not at all surprised to see it. Everyone else is making suitably shocked noises. The grass is green, the trees lush. From the trees, a demodog watches them. It looks different, like it fits here, healthy and well fed now, it shakes and stretches and then lopes off further into the woods.

Everything is overgrown, like the Upside Down is reclaiming everything that One created here.

Nearby, laundry flaps on a washing line, metal band shirts and torn jeans, 'Eddie,' Steve breathes for the first time in over six months, and heads into the house.

There's a bowl of odd looking fruit on the kitchen counter. In the lounge, books. So many books, all stacked and arranged into strange little towers like they are giants in a city, and the books are skyscrapers.

Upstairs, Eddie has clearly nested in Steve's room; there are guitar bits and tools on the desk, two guitars in parts.

The bed is mounded with soft things, Steve scents a pillow, it smells like Eddie...and not.

'Where the fuck is he,' Hopper grumbles.

Steve wants to snap. Wants to scream at them all. They fucking believe him now don't they? They could have had Eddie home months ago if-

Dustin has books from the living room, in the front of each is stamped 'Hawkins Public Library'. So that's where they go.

Steve doesn't know what to do when he spots Eddie. He's crouched on a table, bare toes gripping the edge. He's pale, even more so than before, skin a pale enough alabaster that Steve can see the shadow of blue veins underneath. He's flipping through a book, back and forth, back and forth, before finally stopping and hopping down from the table, 'Eddie?'

Eddie doesn't answer, eyes trained on Steve. His hair has grown, even longer, thick dark curls that Steve wants to bury his hands in.

There's a ticking noise, a low, growling rumble as Eddie stalks closer. Things happen very very quickly, Hopper raises his shotgun, El screams 'no,' Eddie's face peels apart like the petals of a flower filled with teeth as he roars and charges at them.

Hoppers gun is jerked up by an unseen hand, his shot causing plaster to rain down from the ceiling, and then Eddie is floating in the air, roaring as his face blends back to normal and then peels apart again, furious.

El's nose is bleeding, she wipes it away.

Steve moves closer. Eddie looks strange; taller. Leaner. Just, more, somehow.

Steve reaches for him, and Eddie desperately tries to get to him in return, clawing at the air, 'put him down, El.'

'Do not do that-' Hopper starts, but doesn't finish, because Eddie lands neatly on his feet, catlike in his grace, where El drops him.

He lunges for Steve, and Steve let's himself be pulled close and gathered up, Eddie clicking and chittering quietly in Steve's ear, scenting his neck, a strange sucking sensation on his skin as Eddie's face peels apart into one big mouth.

Steve relaxes. He has Eddie back.

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 5

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: It's time to find your handler and make him answer for what he's done to you.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore (nothing too graphic)

Word Count: 4715

Notes: This took a while to write, I'm sorry about that but life has been kicking my ass. I really hope it makes enough sense because I've found I'm not very good at writing action scenes (but that's also not the main focus). Hope you enjoy!

Part 4 ○ Part 6

The moon was high in the sky, its pale light guiding your way through the forest. The air was strangely quiet, the leaves crunching beneath your feet were the only thing that could be heard between the trees. Even the wind was serene and no animal dared make a sound, as if sensing what was to come. The atmosphere allowed you to keep your composure, any incoming threats would be easier to detect like this. Unfortunately, so would your allies.

It's funny how so much can change in a matter of days. Before, when you were only a relatively low ranking member of the guild, walking through the dark woods as you are doing now would simply be the norm, whether you were on a mission or not, but, after everything you learned, not having Azriel and his shadows near you makes you feel off-kilter, like you can't protect him if he stands too far from you.

If it weren't for the millions of problems that keep piling on, you'd probably sit on this feeling, dissecting it until you realize how peculiar it actually is for you to feel so achingly connected to the shadowsinger who, even if had been your husband during a time of your life you've now forgotten, was essentially a stranger to you now. You've only really known him for about two weeks, not nearly enough time to be feeling like a part of you is missing.

You weren't used to worrying about anyone else at times like these. Even when your missions weren't solo, you didn't actually know your coworkers, much less cared if they survived or not. But now, you can't stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, of how Azriel and his family could get hurt because of you. You stayed up thinking about this all night, if this would all be truly worth it just to get your memories back, but had decided that you wanted to know what happened, no matter the cost, and knew that, as much as the Inner Circle was helping you recover your memories, not all their motives were altruistic. They all wanted revenge as much as you did.

All of you had planned this out meticulously, going down to every last detail and considering every possible outcome. Everyone was also extra careful on how to approach using you as bait. You expected it from Azriel - he's been protective of you ever since you stepped foot into his High Lord's home - but seeing the rest of them so worried about you made you want to recover your memories that much more. You want to remember these people, want to know how they all, especially Azriel, came to care for you, so much so that even death didn't stop those feelings.

There had been other plans brought up, ones that didn't involve putting you in such a risky situation, but it was soon decided that the only way to get to Norris would be to show up alone. If he so much as caught a glimpse of anyone else, you know he would simply run and if he truly put his guard up and went into hiding, finding him would be nearly impossible even with Azriel's spies and shadows at his disposal, he hadn't found you after all.

The tree you were looking for comes into view as you get lost in your thoughts, the magic traces left behind on its bark unmistakably familiar. The guild has used this system for as long as you've been a part of it. Every important meeting with your handler had taken place next to any object or area marked with this exact faint magic, enough for the attuned eye to pick up on but not so strong that anyone else might come across them and meddle where they're not welcomed.

You don't have to wait by the marked tree for long before an imposing figure appears beside you. He had probably been watching you for as long as you've winnowed into the edge of the treeline, keeping his eyes on you as you walked to the meeting place. The air shifts, the wind picking up slightly as if sensing the tension threatening to form in your body.

Turning around as casually as possible, you face your former handler, the male you thought had saved your life but you've now learned did quite the opposite. Not that there had been any particularly fond feelings between you and him, but it still hurts to know how easily the male manipulated you and turned your entire life around with no remorse.

He was mostly covered with a black hood, only a bit of his face being visible through the shadow it cast, enough to meet his eyes. You've only seen him without it a few times, you know that dark brown hair lays under the hood and a few scars adorn his face. Truthfully, you're not even sure if this isn't some intricate glamour. Nothing that comes from this male should be trusted.

His form gives nothing away, no nerves or suspicions, but his brown eyes rake over your body, searching for something. Since he thinks you've just crawled out of a cell or worse, he's probably looking for any signs of injury, or that you've betrayed him and the guild. It's best you don't let him find anything that tells him otherwise.

“Norris,” you greet him as you would any other time, nodding once at him with a passive expression.

He crosses his arms and meets your eyes when he hears your voice. His eyes dart over the forest around you as if he knew Azriel would be lurking in the shadows. His self assured expression doesn't help with your nerves. Norris always seems like he's three steps ahead, and more often than not he was actually four.

“I didn't think I'd see you again,” he finally speaks up.

“I thought so too.”

Norris hums in response. You're not sure if he believes you or not, but short and distant answers are the norm for him. Either way, you need to stick to the plan, there's no turning back now. “How did you escape the Night Court?”

“They thought I was someone else, someone they used to know,” you start, trying to convey some of the confusion you'd experienced the first time they told you who you were. He knows you well enough to expect you to have some trouble maintaining the same level of apathy he so easily displays, he'd warned you multiple times to act more like an assassin and not let your emotions get the best of you. “It eventually led to a fight between the High Lord and his Spymaster. They couldn't agree on what to do with me from what I heard. I managed to escape in the chaos.”

You stop for a second, licking your lips. You decided not to completely lie to him so it would be more believable, this version of events could have come true had you not trusted Azriel, had your feelings not been so suffocating and confusing.

“I waited for a while before contacting you, to make sure they didn't come looking for me,” you continue eventually, the fact that he isn't asking more questions makes your heart pick up ever so slightly.

He turns his head to the side, a faint smirk playing at his lips. You resist the urge to clench your sweaty palms, not wanting to let him see through you. “Who did they think you were?”

“The Spymaster's former wife,” you admitted, hoping you sounded as detached as possible.

“And what do you think about it?”

“What?”

“Do you believe them?” You didn't expect him to ask you outright. It would make more sense for him to try to cover it up, stopping any doubts you might have had before they grew.

“Of course not. I've never been married,” the lie tastes wrong on your tongue but you make sure not to let any of it translate into your body language or your voice. Which is why you're so caught off guard by his next words. “I think you're lying to me.”

Norris turns you around and grabs you to him before you have a chance to react, pulling you flush against his chest and pressing a dagger to your neck, power rumbling under his skin, raising the hairs on the back of your neck at its intensity. This isn't that surprising to you since you were more than aware of how much faster and stronger he was, and that tricking him would be extremely hard, but this means you need to move to plan B. And you were really hoping you could avoid a direct conflict like this.

Azriel is the first one to show himself, emerging from the shadows with deadly calm, hazel eyes never straying from Norris as his hand hovers Truth Teller. As much as you try to keep calm and not give anything away, you know Norris can feel you tense up and hear your heartbeat picking up when you see the shadowsinger walking straight into danger.

You feel another presence behind you, Morrigan, followed by Cassian and Amren on each side. The sisters had stayed behind, despite their many protests. In case anything happened, Velaris needed its High Lady and the Valkyries at least. You also know this is a personal matter for the fae present, you had been their friend and been ripped away from their lives by the male currently holding you at knife point, threatening to end your life once again, for good this time.

They all start walking slowly to you, effectively forming a circle around the two of you, getting ready to attack if Norris hurts you or tries to run. He appeared as calm as if he had just been caught on a night stroll, his heartbeat never rising in tempo against your back even under Azriel's chilling stare. He had been expecting your betrayal, and had been ready for them.

You could feel the fury in the air, could see it written in Azriel's eyes as he studied every single one of Norris' movements. You had been worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his composure since he was against this plan from the start, in fear of this exact situation coming true. But he seemed completely focused, not even risking looking at you too long in case he'd get distracted. This made you relax ever so slightly. You'd planned out for this situation and even if you ended up hurt or worse, you know Azriel won't let Norris go unharmed. You would get your revenge one way or another, you just hoped you could spare the male in front of you any more pain.

Rhysand winnows in next to Azriel moments later, darkness clinging to him as he takes a few steps closer to you nonchalantly. Talons scratching your mental walls before checking in on you. All according to plan.

“I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but even I can't spin a lie so effortlessly,” he starts, arrogance dripping in every word. You'd never admit it, much less to him, but Rhysand was every bit the perfect High Lord, especially at times like these. It showed in the way he carried himself down to the seemingly bottomless pit of power at his disposal. No matter how strong Norris is, anyone with even a little of self preservation would think twice on how to handle him.

“I came prepared for your little tricks, High Lord.”

You frown at his words, confusion settling over you before you realize what it meant. Rhysand must have tried getting inside his mind as soon as he appeared. Norris had expected him to, had put up walls to ensure it didn't happen. This would only make things harder.

“Skipping pleasantries, are we?” Rhysand's face gives nothing away, but as he drops said pleasantries, it gives way to some of the anger bubbling under the surface, the next words coming out in a serious tone. “You're not walking out of here, Norris.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Norris says as he leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper, “Did you think I would come on my own?”

A sinking feeling grows in your stomach as you watch dark figures manifesting all around you, far outnumbering your group. You recognize some of them, know their clothes and masks mean they're assassins from the guild.

A fight breaks out right before your eyes, causing you to struggle desperately for the first time in Norris' arms. He tries to keep you in place by letting the blade touch your skin as a warning, a few drops of blood escaping the small wound. You know he could easily kill you, but you're also aware that if he did the chances of him escaping would drop to zero. That's the only reason you're still breathing, so he can use you as a shield.

Your eyes were following Azriel's shadow covered form as he fought against multiple attackers, the feeling of helplessness rising with each clank of his sword. You can't stand there and wait any longer, so you grab the blade still positioned dangerously close to your throat and wrap your fingers around it tightly so it cuts your hand instead of your neck while swinging your elbow back to try to push off of Norris. Just as you expected, you weren't strong enough and he pulled the knife back from your grasp, intending to stab your stomach to stop you, but you had a new trick up your sleeve.

Azriel's shadows had moved to you as soon as Norris grabbed you, crawling up your legs discreetly in the dark of night, where they stayed waiting for your signal. And, as they tasted your blood in the air, they engulfed Norris, giving you enough room to push back and to elbow him a few more times, also letting off some of your power and finally being able to release yourself from his hold.

The shadows aren't enough to keep him away from you for long, the lack of visibility barely slowing him down as he attacks you before you even have the chance to take a breath. Luckily, your little helpers' singer rushes in, getting between you and deflecting Norris' strike. He hands you a sword so you can fight back with him and pushes back against Norris without wasting a single moment.

The three of you enter a match, barely being able to pay attention to what's happening around you, though you can tell everyone is in the same predicament. Even between you and Azriel, keeping up with Norris proves difficult, he's not only an exceedingly proficient fighter but he's also familiar with your attacks and style, making it easier for him to avoid your attacks and focus more on Azriel's.

The fight goes on for longer than you'd like. Even with your and Azriel's joint efforts, you had barely managed to wound Norris. The bastard was too strong and experienced, he was one of the guild's oldest assassins for a reason.

Suddenly the sickening scent of blood reaches your nostrils, in a concentration you haven't experienced before. It makes you falter in your movements, but luckily it has the same effect on Norris, leaving him open to Azriel's attacks, who seems undisturbed by it. You risk a glance behind you, but all you can see is the rest of the Inner Circle watching the battle, while the ground and their bodies, even the trees around them, are covered in blood. You're not exactly sure what happened, what they did to completely obliterate the assassins to a point not even their bodies were left, but you don't have more time to linger on this as Azriel finally manages to get a few good hits in, leaving Norris stumbling back away from him.

Rhysand is next to you in the blink of an eye, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. You move to help Azriel, hoping to distract Norris enough for him to be able to infiltrate his mind. It doesn't take much longer before Norris finally drops unconscious at your feet, and you immediately let out a relieved breath. Azriel's shadows move to tie him up so he has no chance of escaping.

Your plan had always been to catch Norris off guard or wear him down enough so that Rhysand would be able to infiltrate his mind, successfully knocking him out so you could take him back to the Night Court for interrogation. And, as much as you'd planned for the possibility of him bringing backup, the assassins had made this harder to achieve. You all had been worn down more than expected, but, as you look around, you see no one seems to be gravely injured.

Cassian smiles and nods at you when he notices you eyeing the blood trickling down his shoulder, it wasn't too deep of a wound and the blood was already stopping from the looks of it. Azriel did tell you Illyrians heal faster than most fae. Speaking of, you feel scarred fingers wrap around your wrist as you give Cassian a tentative smile of your own.

Your focus is stolen by Azriel, your eyes finding his instantly as he holds up your hand carefully, examining the wound and the blood that had been smeared all around you during the fight. He's wearing a conflicted expression, pain visible in his eyes. You've found Azriel shoulders too much guilt, even when what happened wasn't his fault.

His other hand reaches out to touch your neck, where a small cut overlaps with the pronounced scar on your skin. He's been blaming himself for your death for over a century, he must have been terrified of not being able to stop it again, even if it was happening right in front of him.

“I'm alright, Azriel,” you smile up at him, hoping to calm him down, “This will be gone by tomorrow.”

“We need to take you to a healer.” You shake your head, not wanting to stay behind and leave them to deal with Norris by themselves. Gently prying Azriel's hands away from you, you go to tell him as much.

“He's right,” Morrigan interjects, “I can take you to Madja and she'll fix it for you in an instant. I can bring you back right after.”

“It's just my hand.” You don't understand why they're making such a big deal out of it. This wouldn't need a healer, aside from some discomfort it won't hinder you in any way. They all have small wounds of their own that they seem to be ignoring.

“You're hurt.” There's a finality in Azriel's tone that is starting to rub you the wrong way. You understand he's concerned, you've tried to be considerate of his complicated feelings ever since you found out you had been his wife and the tragic way in which he had lost you, but that doesn't mean he can order you around.

“Barely.” You try to keep your voice leveled, pointing at Norris' unconscious form still covered in shadows. “And this is a lot more important. I need to know what he did.”

“I'll tell you everything we find. You don't need to go with us.”

“What?” You can feel the confusion taking over your features. Azriel has been forthcoming with any and every bit of information, you don't understand why he's trying to keep you away now.

“It's best if you don't come to the dungeon. You don't need to see that,” he offers, his face becoming irritatingly blank, the mask you know he uses as the Night Court's Spymaster. This only makes your anger spike even faster.

“See what?,” you challenged, head tilting to the side, “Do you think I never tortured anyone?” Your voice rises with every word, annoyance taking over your body. “I know the female you married was much different from what I am now, and I don't know if she let you order her around like this, but I'm not her.”

“I'm not ordering you-” Azriel's face falls at your words but you're too far gone to even try to interpret what it's written in his eyes, to even listen to what he has to say.

“It sure sounds like you are.”

Rhysand stands between you two before the argument can escalate further. “This is not the time to be fighting. We need to take him to a safe place before he regains conscience. I can only keep him down for so long.” He eyes Azriel for a moment, studying his features as some sort of understanding takes over his own. “Mor will take you to a healer,” he holds up a hand as you open your mouth to argue back, “It will only take a moment and then you can meet us in the dungeon. We won't start without you. I promise.”

By the expression on his face and authority behind his words, you know trying to argue with the High Lord won't take you anywhere right now. He's too used to calling all the shots and you can't change his mind in a matter of minutes, not when there's a much more pressing situation on your hands. You need to choose your battles.

You simply turn to Morrigan, ignoring the hazel eyes staring straight into your soul. “Take me to your healer then. The sooner I get this done the better.” She nods at you, extending her hand as she winnows you both back to Velaris.

The adrenaline of the fight started wearing off as the healer, Madja, worked on your hand, stitching skin back together with expert ease. As much as it had annoyed you to be sent to the infirmary, you could admit the pain had been worse than you expected as your body calmed down. It still wouldn't have been much of a problem to warrant that amount of concern.

Morrigan simply watches as the old fae works on you. She tried to talk to you about Azriel but you pushed her away, not wanting to hear any explanations from her. He's old enough to speak for himself, and you'll probably be eager to hear what he has to say after this whole situation is worked out. Right now, you only want to go back to where they're holding Norris so you can finally understand what he did to you and hopefully learn how to fix it.

Just as Madja is wrapping your hand in a white bandage, keeping the strong smelling ointment she spread in place, the healer speaks up for what feels like the first time tonight. “That boy loves you more than anything. Give him a chance to explain. I'm sure he never meant to hurt you,” she finishes as she pats your hand softly. “All done.”

Her words give you pause. It does make you wonder how obvious your and Azriel's love had been that everyone seems to have no doubt in their minds that he would do anything for you. He seems to be very private in his affairs, especially personal ones. It also makes you curious if you'd known her before, it's more than likely since she's the Inner Circle's healer. You push those thoughts away, knowing you wouldn't ask the old healer about your relationship before anyway. You were so close to getting your memories, you needed to focus on that.

“Thank you.” She gives you one more smile before gathering her things, making you stand up and rush to Morrigan, who has a somewhat nostalgic and understanding smile on her face. She holds onto your shoulder before you even have the chance to say anything, knowing what your next words were going to be.

As soon as you winnow in, you understand why they called this place a dungeon. There really was no other way to describe the dark, stone covered space. The air was thick with humidity and blood, the kind you know has lingered for centuries and will never be completely washed out. You have to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, it was truly close to pitch black inside, the perfect environment to torment someone in, especially when you're the shadowsinger.

You never let your eyes meet Azriel's when you walk in, even as he turned to you, only allowing yourself to focus on your former handler, heavy chains on each of his wrists as he stood on his knees in the middle of a cell. He was already awake, it seems they did start without you. Rhysand speaks into your mind, sensing the incoming protest. He woke up sooner than we expected. He's been trained for this.

A sigh almost escapes you. Norris was trained for every possibility, this was going to be a gruesome session. As much as you were arguing with Azriel to stay, the truth is this is not something you ever enjoyed. So many in the guild did this sort of thing for pleasure but you only ever tortured anyone when it was strictly necessary and they had truly done something awful to warrant it. You can only hope it at least gives you the information you've been searching for and the freedom you never even dared to dream about.

“I almost thought you weren't going to show your face again.” It's infuriating how unaffected Norris sounds even though his blood already stains Azriel's favorite dagger.

“Wouldn't miss this show for the world,” you admit. He was one of the few individuals you believed deserved this and much worse, for all he has done to not only you but so many others. You're almost certain your conscience won't bother you for this.

Up until tonight your feelings for him were passive. You never particularly liked him, but you always felt obligated to show him respect as your superior, there were also less than ideal consequences if you let your true feelings show. Still, there had been some small, stupid hope that he didn't really do all those awful things to you. He trained you and taught you a lot, knowledge that you know has helped you in a lot of bad situations, that has kept you alive through them, and will continue to do so in the future.

A sickening smirk overtakes his face at your response. “I always liked you better when you acted like one of us.” Fury and shame travels across your body, but Azriel moves before you get the chance to, slashing his blade across Norris' chest, a sharp noise of pain escaping him. The gesture almost makes you smile, as twisted as that may sound.

“You'd do well to watch your mouth. My Spymaster doesn't take well to disrespect,” Rhysand's voice sounds different, arrogant but nothing short of furious.

“Still hung up on her? Since you stopped searching I thought you found yourself a new shiny toy.” Azriel's fist connects with Norris' jaw as he gets the last words out, a laugh escaping him despite the flow of blood rushing through his teeth for being able to rattle the shadowsinger.

You decide to step in, not wanting to let Azriel speak or act for you when you're more than capable of doing it yourself. And knowing how much he blames himself for your situation, for stopping his search when you were alive all this time. You'd be damned if you let Norris hurt him in any way. He's done more than enough.

“So you admit you were the one who found me.” You walk until you're standing over Norris' beaten body, right next to Azriel, close enough he has to adjust his wings not to touch you.

“Of course, you were one of my finest projects.” You let out an acknowledging hum, temperature dropping around you as your icy power rose to your fingertips. The pain would be a lot worse if you kept his body temperature down, you want his whole body to ache. This was going to be a long night, thankfully hurting Norris was nothing short of enjoyable.

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[ghostchems]

blood and cookies

written with copia in mind but can be any papa. if you read, let me know which papa you imagined! this idea came to me in the middle of the night. 1.2k words. nothing crazy here except for some bloodsucking :) happy holidays!

Flames crackle in the fireplace, casting shadows on the simple garland draped across the mantel. A single, plain red stocking hangs from one corner - the extent of your Christmas decorations. You zone out in the direction of the display from the kitchen as you remove your oven mitts, placing them on the counter. A chill rolls down your spine despite the warmth of the cookies cooling in front of you, sugar cookies shaped like trees with green and red sprinkles. They're typical Christmas cookies, the only kind you trust yourself to bake.

Recently, you've had a visitor every couple of nights. They aren’t the kind to stick around, showing up because they *needed* something from you. You wonder if your dabbling in the darker arts attracted them— ever since moving here you’ve found yourself attracted to the strange herbs and mushrooms that grow wild in these woods. You've learned to identify them, to harvest them properly, and to learn what they are used for - spells that are meant to give protection and tranquility.

The knowledge feels ancient, like it's been waiting here in the soil for someone like you to discover it. Sometimes you wonder if it was a trap all along but you are enjoying your new hobby. Long winter nights are hard living deep in the forest with your closest neighbor miles away, but you make do with your DIY witchcraft. Sometimes you enjoy the solitude while other times you wished you had someone to share it with. That is, until some of your evenings have been interrupted by a mysterious visitor.

You hear fluttering from the living room and quickly move to scoop some cookies onto a plate. Smoothing out your apron with one hand, you take the plate in the other and head toward the fire.

A figure stands near the fireplace, his one otherworldly white eye glowing in the darkness. Dark wings stretch behind him, their leathery surface creaking as they fold against his back. He is like a living shadow, his form seeming to blur at the edges where the firelight touches him. He's never spoken. You don't even know his name but his visits have become more frequent. At first it was once a month, then every other week, and now he visits at least once a week.

“Good evening,” you say softly, placing the plate of freshly baked cookies on the small table beside your armchair. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafts through the air, mingling with the woodsmoke. His white eye follows your movement, and you notice the slightest tilt of his head — perhaps in curiosity, or appreciation. “Help yourself. I will, uh, get you some warm milk.”

You turn back toward the kitchen, your feet padding quietly across the wooden floor. As you warm the milk on the stovetop, you can't help but wonder if he'll still be there when you return — he sometimes disappears as silently as he arrives. The gentle crackling of the fire and the soft clink of the plate behind you suggest he's staying, at least for now. It doesn’t take long for the milk to warm, and you pour it carefully into your favorite ceramic mug — the one with pale green mushrooms painted all over it, their caps dotting the surface in cheerful reds and purples.

When you return, he's closer to the fireplace and two cookies are missing from the plate with a few crumbs on the table. There’s a sense of relief that he liked them enough to eat more than one. You place the mug of warm milk on the table carefully, having learned he isn’t too fond of sudden movements. That doesn’t stop him from moving with inhuman speed right up to you, causing you to gasp and stumble back a step. His wings unfurl slightly, casting strange shadows on the walls.

"You are hungry," you whisper to him, your eyes scanning his face. You can see more of him now—the white and black paint that clings to his skin. He gives a low rumble in response, coming from deep in his chest. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. His eye narrows slightly, the otherworldly glow intensifying for just a moment. You know what comes next.

He crowds close to you, his wings curling around you like a dark embrace. His gloved hand gently tilts your head to the side, exposing your neck. You feel his impossibly cool breath against your skin, causing you to shiver. His other hand pushes the strap of your apron to the side and leans in, lips against your skin. The touch is gentle but cold, like winter frost against your warm flesh.

He kisses your neck. This is new. Usually, he just bites and drinks, a simple transaction of blood for company. But tonight there's something different in the way his lips linger against your skin, the way his hand cradles your head. The gesture is almost tender. You find yourself leaning into his touch, your hands reaching up to steady yourself against his chest. His fangs graze your neck, almost as if asking permission.

"Yes," you whisper, "you may."

His fangs pierce your skin with practiced precision, and you gasp at the sharp sting. All feeling melts away in moments. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket as he drinks deeply, the sound of his satisfied grunts mixed with the crackle of the fire. Through half-lidded eyes, you notice his wing has curled more tightly around you, probably to keep you upright as you grow weak with each deep draw of blood.

Your vision starts to blur at the edges, darkness creeping in. He must sense this and withdraws his fangs, his tongue quickly lapping at the wound to stop the bleeding. His wings move away from you as you sway on your feet, and the last thing you feel is his arms guiding you gently into the armchair as consciousness slips away from you.

You awake with a soft groan, your neck tender where his fangs had pierced. Fingertips drift along the wound as your eyes fall to the fireplace. The fire has died down to glowing embers. Then, your eyes drift to the small table beside you, where only scattered crumbs remain on the plate that once held your Christmas cookies. The ceramic mug sits empty, a smudge of black - like paint or lipstick - marking where his lips had touched the rim.

Despite how weak you feel, there's a sense of contentment. He ate all of the treats you made for him. You smile softly, sinking deeper into the armchair. You wonder when he'll visit again. Maybe next time you'll try another treat, perhaps chocolate chips or snicker doodles. The thought makes you feel warm as you sink deeper into the chair, sleep claiming you. You dream of dark wings and winter nights, of sugar cookies and stolen kisses.

Outside, snow begins to fall covering the forest in a blanket of white. Somewhere in that darkness, a shadow moves between the trees, leaving no footprints.

[cartoonist-in-theory]

You’re walking down a long quiet road. It’s winter, snow covers the ground, the sky fades gray. All around you are trees that have long since dropped their leaves, cold and dead, waiting for spring. You stop beneath one, eye caught by a striking sight. Amid the bare branches you see a round bundle of stunning green leaves. Hanging down above you are dozens of beautiful little pearly white berries. The fruit tempts you, but you don’t dare touch. Instead you simply admire them. Life among the dead of winter. Mistletoe.

@slocotion Hi, here is my design for slocotion's patreon dyo doll contest. Her name is Haustoria of the Pale. I was very excited to put this together once it struck me. I thought of all my favorite fruits I could have used but then inspiration hit me as I was considering less common fruits and fungi. Mistletoe is used medicinally by some but the entire plant, including its cute white berries, is toxic. Since this is a longer post, I’ll include more notes on my design under a cut but to point out the most important thing, I’ve combined the nature of the toxic berries with some historical+mythological inspiration that I think echoes it nicely.

In Norse mythology, a well known story is that of the death of Baldr. Baldr was the most loved god of the Aesir, so when a vision of his death reached his parents Odin and Frigga, they did all they could to protect him. Frigga sent her servants all over the world to make every creature and thing vow to never harm a hair on Baldr’s head. All but mistletoe promised, too insignificant or too young to make the vow. After it was done, Bladr seemed invincible. Since nothing was willing to hurt him, the gods would sometimes gather around and throw things at him, watching everything bounce off without injuring him. Loki, jealous of the love and affection that was always paid to Baldr, came up with a plan to get rid of him. He had an arrow made of mistletoe and brought it to Baldr’s blind brother Hodr. He gave it to him to throw at Baldr as all the gods pelted him with objects and weapons. Hodr threw the arrow and, since mistletoe had never promised not to harm him, it pierced his chest, killing him instantly... And so Baldr was delivered to the depths of the land of the dead, looked over by Hel.

specific design notes under the cut thank you for looking!

Mistletoe is a very interesting plant to me. It’s not a tree or vine or bush, but instead its an evergreen parasite. The sticky seeds attach themselves to the branches and grow into it with a haustorium, which is a structure that lets them sap nutrients from the host plant. Haustoria’s name is a reference to this structure. “of the Pale” is a reference to not only the color of the berries but the pale gray and white landscape of winter.

Mistletoe berries are heavily toxic but also exist in winter, when other plants may be barren and “dead.” Because of that and their parasitic nature I see them as a sweet little balance of life and death. In addition to that, I use the split colors of the face/mask of Haustoria to reference the goddess of the land of the dead, Hel, who is described as having a body that is half black as death, split down the middle.

The structure of the outfit is inspired by Scandinavian and specifically Norwegian folk dresses, since I’m borrowing old Norse history for more inspiration, it seemed fitting. I also felt the style would be good to accompany the botanical and berry designs attractively.

The twin peaked hood is to further split the design down the middle, with little charms to show life and death.

I included white beads all over the outfit to represent the mistletoe berries themselves so they could stand out.

The dark side of her face is adorned with thorns and has three mournful black tears leaking down from her eye, as well as a hollow half of the center heart.

The light side is blushed and lively with shiny eyes, leaves shaped like the mistletoe leaves, red petals like the mistletoe blooms, three white dots to be the mistletoe fruit, and the center heart is full.

Her cape is white on the inside to represent the white of the berries and also the white of snow.

To cap it off, I do believe mistletoe is fitting for a plague doctor as they are still used medicinally to this day. :)

Thank you for reading everything and looking at my design! I’m very proud of her and I hope she doesn’t stretch the theme. And definitely more than anything else I hope you enjoy looking at her!

[dreamingsnowflake2013]

The chosen power couple that they are, basked in celestial light, one reborn and made whole and powerful again through the suffering, pain and sacrifice of the other, who burned himself to his core for him.

It feels like a wedding ceremony really, combined with the fact that tree stands up for altar of the highest god of everything. The juxtaposition of ZYZ's blood oath with Li Lun. His fever dream ended up being a foreshadowing of the future - ZYC becoming a demon and them standing in that very same place together. It's interesting how it's first ZYC wearing LL's markings and robe, then he transforms into Li Lun and then back again and stays that way. The flickering feels like ZYZ's confusion and indecision who is his lover best friend until he makes his decision, choosing ZYC.

THERI HANDS! ZYC's so pale and pure while ZYZ's hand is dark, veiny, weary and burned, he hurt himself, it feels like a penance for the unwitting burning he caused to LL, so ZYC wouldn't hurt.

That moment when ZYZ makes the decision and chooses ZYC as his mate partner and guardian to protect the Wilderness, because that's what he's always been and wanted - a protector who protects others, he didn't lie to ZYC in that cell. The way he says "together"! This show is a gift that keeps on giving.

It's also a parallel to him asking for the promise from ZYC to kill him.

And then he collapses STRAIGHT INTO ZYC'S ARMS!!! but not before ZYC agrees and promises to be with him protect the Wilderness with him! I've felt since the beginning that ZYZ is actually grooming his successor in ZYC because he always planned to die no matter what and this seems like another step in that plan, like he is writing his will.

Finally, there is no fear of another ugly divorce break-up, like with Li Lun, because he's always intended to impale himself on Baby Dragon's sword. So, yeah, it's a demon marriage, till death do them part.

[torgawl]

started thinking about "the pale princess and the six pygmies" again and realised the five unloyal pygmies match the sinners of khaenri'ah pretty well.

when the pale princess from the moonlight forest and the prince from the kingdom of light enter the kingdom of pygmies, one pygmy (deformed pygmy) asks her help to save his five brothers who were trapped under different circumstances in exchange for their loyalty to her. and so starts the journey of saving each of the five pygmies.

after saving all the pygmies, she took them to the kingdom of light as part of her people and the pygmies started serving both the princess and the prince. "but they were still heinous creatures from the land of night, and corruption flowed in their veins. as the days traveling to the kingdom of light grew long and dangerous, the root of evil would again blossom in their hearts". the pygmies then started plotting revenge and ended up poisoning the prince.

one of the pygmies though (deformed pygmy), was still loyal to the princess and felt guilty for the plan and so he spirited the prince's body away from his wicked brethren and took it to where the princess was staying. what he didn't know was that the night mother had already found the princess, who she emprisoned. before collapsing, transforming into a pile of sludge and worms, and leaving the pygmy to grieve, she proclaimed one prophecy: "in thousands of years time, my greatest foe will descend. he wields a sword that heralds the dawn and wears armor that can reflect the shining sunlight. he shall destroy my kingdom and bring the prince back to life. the princess will then be free from her eternal torment. until then, i fear not a single soul in the land of might, for nothing will bring an end to my kingdom except for the catastrophe foretold by the prophecy. as for you, the treacherous slave that poisoned his master… fate shall see that you get what you deserve". at last, the pygmy hid the body in a tree hole and walked off alone into the night, into a self-imposed exile.

what specifically caught my attention was the motives each of the five unloyal pygmies gave to betray the prince, which seem to mirror the five sinners of khaenri'ah. and i guess it's also relevant to add that alberich in "the ring of the nibelung" was, in fact, ruler of the dwarves. in this case, pygmies as an allegorical parallel could very well make sense to refer to the people of khaenri'ah.

to make a few of the connections i made between the sinners and the pygmies, i went into speculation and theory territory, so take what i'm saying with a grain of salt. but going into each of them:

hroptatyr means 'sage' in old norse and was one of the many names that odin went by. the one entity in khaenri'ah, who happens to parallel odin and a sage, simultaneously, and who also made use of power from beyond beyond the skies is non other than king irmin. he became "indisposed" during the cataclysm and didn't defend his kingdom, which led to anfortas taking his place as regent. this description of events very much matches what dainsleif told us about the sinners not fullfiling their role and being unable to protect the kingdom. it also adds some context as to why the only justification for why irmin wasn't able to rule at the time of the cataclysm was because he was "indisposed". king irmin is also known to only have one eye so his respective pygmy being "blind" is very fitting.

dain also refers to himself and the sinners as "the six of us". if the loyal pygmy from the book represents dain, this would make a lot of sense. i forgot to add before but the line about corruption flowing through the pygmies veins caught my eye as well as we know the sinners shared this sinful power between them and in "a drunkard's tale", wine is used as a metaphor for the abyss. the sinners are what led to the creation of the abyss order.

from the very little we know about vedrfolnir, he's able to foresee the future. the foolish pygmy envies the smart. pierro is one of theorised identities for "the visionary". besides his title being "the jester" which is pretty much another variation for fool, he has an interesting quote in the 'pale flame' set: "since my level of learning could not compare with the sages, i failed to earn the favor of the previous ruler". it implies he used to crave knowledge, like the pygmy, and it mentions irmin, who he served while he was still in khaenri'ah. pierro is also the one behind the fatui's plans, he seems to always plan ahead and all his goals end up being fullfiled even after many complications. he also possesses great historical knowledge, both abouth the future and past, as he seems to know about arlecchino's history despite being part of the later eclipse dynasty.

surtalogi "the foul" is the one behind "foul's legacy", a combat technique used by childe. he has ties to the abyss and much like childe's combat-hungry spirit, the timid pygmy desired to battle the prince.

the shrunken pygmy is the most straightforward one. rhinedottir is a practitioner of the art of khemia, probably the most proefficient one too. like the pygmy, her focus is on creating life through alchemy.

as for rerir's connection to the carefree pygmy, i placed him by process of elimination. we know nothing about them so i don't think it's possible to make a very factual connection but the pygmy's sentiment of wanting to avenge his situation seems silimar to the feeling behind title "avenger of solnari". despite solnari not having a very clear origin, it either stems from: 'solari', related to the sun; or 'solunar', pertaining to the rising and setting times of the sun and moon, phases of the moon, eclipses, etc. the princess and the prince in the book represent the moon and sun, respectively. and there's also the ties to the eclipse dynasty in khaenri'ah.

another parallel between the sinners is the primordial one and the four shades. but rather than representing each other, they work as counterparts: hroptatyr vs primordial one, vedrfolnir vs istaroth, rhinedottir vs the shade of life, rerir vs the shade of death (?) and surtalogi vs the shade of void (?).

not sure if there's a connection between each of the sumeru akademiya's cardinal sins and the pygmies since they're also six but they seem like sins commited by khaenri'ah either way:

"revering gods without acts of devotion" caught my attention because khaenri'ah is supposed to be a godless nation yet we see hilichurls around the thousand wind temple while also having banners with istaroth's symbol in their camps, as if they followed istaroth somehow. i have my thoughts about some of the other sins (like the human evolution one), istaroth being connected to khaenri'ah, her theorised identity as a moon sister and her possible ties to this book as the pale princess but i think i'll leave that to another day. i'm very sure other people made the connection between the pygmies and the sinners too, i am probably very late to the party but i just wanted to add my two cents on it and make a post with my current ideas on the identities of hroptatyr and vderfolnir. don't trust me, though!! the pygmy isn't the only fool, i'm just having fun thinking these possibilities. thanks for reading, if you did ahah

edit (23/08/24): i never came back to this post but i realised the identities can be easier to infer without speculation, since the names are clearly the opposite of their desires. the pygmy who wanted to see makes sense to be vedrfolnir, the visionary - blind pygmy. the foolish pygmy, the one who wanted to become smart is obviously hroptatyr (and here pierro makes a lot more sense, i know some people theorised pierro to be hroptatyr). the pygmy who wanted courage makes sense to be the timid pygmy, possibly rerir. rhinedottir is without doubt the shrunken pygmy which leaves us with surtalogi being the carefree pygmy. the carefree pygmy much like the deformed pygmy don't really have any desires, but the title "the foul" contrasts carefree really well. wanted to reiterate this since people keep relogging this post. i didn't really go to deep into the sinners either though i will leave here that the name khaenri'ah is possibly derived from an arabic phrase meaning "betrayer of winds" (خائن رياح) and the pygmies betrayed the pale princess and the light prince (represents the sun and gold - end goal of magnum opus) in the book. which leads us to istaroth, "the thousand winds of time". i said i wasn't going to go into it but i cannot stop myself from saying this because i wasn't clear earlier and i feel like this is cool. okay, bye!!

[shorimochi]

LiuJiu Palace AU

Liu Qingge’s ears perked up as soon as he spotted the familiar figure behind the peach tree, who was obviously trying to avoid him. “Fight me, Shen Qingqiu!”

Shen Qingqiu clicked his tongue. He took out his book and hid his face behind it. “Don’t you have better things to do, stupid brute?”

Liu Qingge jumped over the small lotus pond. “Nobody can fight like you.”

“Tsk. Didn't you call me a cheater last time?”

Liu Qingge's face turned red. “That was… I apologize. My grandfather has since then taught me that tactics and strength go hand in hand in all battles and wars.”

He had just been accepted into the special troop responsible to protect the emperor and his family. Yet, in front of Shen Qingqiu, Liu Qingge still felt inadequate. Even though he participated in the entrance test just like everyone else, a lot of the palace officials still thought he merely passed because he was General Liu's favorite grandson.

While practicing his martial arts, Liu Qingge had accidentally stumbled upon Shen Qingqiu, who happened to be hiding from several angry servants. Shen Qingqiu claimed the servants were mad because he had taken some writing tools that were reserved for high-ranked nobles. When Liu Qingge demanded that he return those tools, Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes and said the good brushes and ink would be wasted on fools with no reading comprehension.

They fought. Liu Qingge lost, because he underestimated the scholar. He thought Shen Qingqiu with his dainty fingers and pale skin wouldn't be able to fight, but Shen Qingqiu proved to be as proficient in swords as he was with brushes.

Since then, Liu Qingge had been visiting the courtyard daily to challenge Shen Qingqiu. The young man was always strangely alone, never seen with other scholars or officials. Even though Shen Qingqiu said he was nothing more than a lowly scholar, Liu Qingge often found him in places quite close to the emperor's quarters.

He couldn't possibly dare to wander around such areas, if he was just a normal person. Though… whatever his status was, didn't really matter to Liu Qingge. The only thing that mattered was that he was Shen Qingqiu.

“How about you visit my house?” Liu Qingge suggested as he sat next to Shen Qingqiu beside the peach tree.

Shen Qingqiu fell silent.

“We have plum trees. The fruits are really sweet,” Liu Qingge added.

He recalled that Shen Qingqiu really liked sweets. He liked the pastries that Liu Qingge brought last time too.

Shen Qingqiu bit his lip. “I can't leave.”

Liu Qingge frowned. “Why can't you-”

“Consort Shen!”

A group of servants came running towards them. Liu Qingge froze.

Consort?

He quickly looked at Shen Qingqiu, who appeared paler than usual.

“Here you are, Consort Shen. Minister Qiu has been looking for you,” the servant said.

Minister Qiu. Ah. Didn't his grandfather complain about this particular minister last time?

He was the minister who practically sold his cousin as a concubine to the emperor in exchange for more power. General Liu was against it, as Minister Qiu’s cousin was a talented scholar who placed first in the exam. However, the emperor had long desired the scholar’s beauty and forced him to retire from his position to be a concubine.

Liu Qingge suddenly felt his heart sink. He thought it didn't matter what Shen Qingqiu’s position was.

Now it occurred to him… that it mattered. A lot. Because he was in love with Shen Qingqiu.

[pamwritessometimes]

Roots in my dreamland

Dean Winchester x Forest Spirit!Reader

Summary: Dean encounters a mysterious forest spirit who’s an enigma.

Loosely based ivy by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: unprotected SMUT (bring protection with yourself, yes, even to a forest), P in V, mentions of being naked in the snow, fingering, crack ending, grammar mistakes galore.

═════════ 𖤐🤍𖤐 ═════════

The wind howled through the towering trees, winter’s chill clinging to the air as Dean wandered deeper and deeper into the forest. He wasn’t sure why he kept on going on this path. There were no signs of danger, no clear trail to follow, yet something kept dragging him in. It felt ancient here, in this part of the forest, like time itself was buried in these moss-covered grounds.

The reports of strange occurrences in the area had led him here in the first place: people disappearing, then reappearing with no memory of where they’d been. Dean had taken it as another case, another monster to hunt… but what he found instead was something he didn’t understand, and certainly something he couldn’t really fight.

He had found her.

His steps slowed as he reached the edge of a small clearing. The pale light of the crescent moon covered everything in a soft, silvery glow, casting shadows on the ice frozen ground. And there she was, standing just beyond the oak trees, her figure nearly blending into the darkness of the brusque, winter night.

She looked at him as if she’d been waiting.

She always did.

Dean didn’t know her name. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what she was. Her skin glimmered, like the moonlight itself was part of her, and her eyes – deep and dark, just like the forest itself – held some sort of timelessness in them. Every time he saw her, he felt like something inside him was growing, something he couldn’t quite control.

“Why do you keep showing up?” he asked, his voice rough, soaked in frustration. “Every time I get close to leaving this place behind, I—” He broke off, his mind going momentarily frigid in the air. “I come back.”

Her gaze softened ever so slightly as she took a cautious step toward him with her bare feet leaving no mark in the snow. She was now close enough that he could feel the soft glow of her skin radiating off her eternal warmness and the unusual flowers threaded in her locks. “Maybe it’s because you belong here more than you think.”

Dean’s chest tightened. Belong? He didn’t belong anywhere, least of all here in this strange, enchanted place. But he couldn’t deny that every time he saw her, a part of him felt like it was coming home.

“You need to let me go” he whispered, though his feet stayed rooted to their spot.

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, she looked almost sad. “You can’t fight what’s already growing inside you.” she said quietly. Her hand lifted, brushing gently against his cheek. The warmth of her touch like fire beneath his skin.

Dean stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. “What is this?” he rasped with eyes wide, his hand instinctively catching hers, holding it against his face. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to pull her closer or push her away. “Why can’t I…?”

She smiled softly, but there was an edge of sorrow in her eyes. “You’ve planted your roots here” she whispered. “And so have I.”

He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to believe that he was tied to this place — to her — but the truth of her words cut deeper than any blade. And he had his fair share of experience with those. Every time he tried to walk away, she pulled him back, and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t seem to break free.

“I– I can’t stay here. This…” He gestured to the forest around them, then to her. “This isn’t me.”

“I know.” she said simply. But she didn’t move away. She stood there, her eyes searching his, like she was waiting for him to make a choice he didn’t know how to make. Dean’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of all the things he was supposed to be doing, all the people he was supposed to be saving. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t keep coming back. And yet…

“I don’t want to leave..” he admitted, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. His hand tightened around hers, his thumb brushing over her skin. “I can’t.”

She leaned into him then, her body soft and warm against his. Her fingers traced the line of his clean-shaven jaw. “Then don’t” she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. He groaned, the weight of everything crashing over him at once. His responsibilities, the danger, the distance between their worlds (whatever her world was in the first place), none of it mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was her.

“I’m already in too deep” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “You’re in my head, in my damn dreams. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop coming back right here. To you. I can’t keep my distance from you.”

“I know” she said, her lips ghosting over his. “I feel it too.”

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, his mouth was on hers, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her closer. The kiss was raw, desperate, like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground. Her body pressed against his, soft and warm and so right, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care about the consequences. Only the ethereal feeling of her silky skin against the palm of his hand and the velvet of her lips. She kissed him back with the same intensity, her hands tangling in his hair as they stumbled back, their bodies melding together. He could feel the heat rising between them, the fire building in his chest as he lost himself in her…completely, utterly, involuntarily lost. 

They sank to the icy forest floor, the snowy moss cool beneath them as they tumbled into each other’s arms. Though, somehow, Dean didn’t feel cold. He didn’t feel his skin being affected by winter’s brusque. Her hands trailed patterns over him, her touch so incredibly soft, almost like a ghost, but it magically made his body immune to the weather. He responded with equal vehemence, his lips trailing down her neck, tasting the woodsy warmth of her skin.

“Dean” she whispered, her voice trembling with need, but there was something else there too, something fragile, like she was holding back. “You need to–”

“No” he cut her off, his voice rough. “I don’t want to think about it. Not now.”

She hesitated, her breath hitching as his hands moved lower, pulling her closer. “But you’ll have to leave.”

Dean’s movements stilled, her words slicing through his hazy state of desire. She was right. He would have to leave. This, whatever the hell this was, couldn’t last. He didn’t belong in her world, and she didn’t belong in his.

But for now, he didn’t care.

“For tonight” he murmured, his lips brushing over hers, “Just– please.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, and after a long moment, she nodded as a sign of her silent agreement. They moved together again, slower this time, like they were savoring every moment, every touch, every warm glow of her hand on his skin. The world outside the forest faded away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the soft gleam of moonlight, the ancient trees standing tall silent around them.

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Dean kissed her lips slowly, his mind completely fogged by need. He didn’t know her, didn’t understand exactly what she was, but none of that mattered now. Not in this moment. Not when every part of him was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain, couldn’t fight. Just for tonight, he let himself get lost in her. His hands found their way to her soft, leaf-woven dress, fingers trailing along the strange fabric that did a sinfully poor job at hiding her curves. As he slid his hands down her waist, her lips parted in a heavenly moan, a testament of her sharing the same need as him. His fingers traced slow and purposeful patterns along her upper thigh, teasing her skin beneath the hem of her skirt (or whatever magical leaf-dress she was wearing). Their breath met halfway as she arched into him, her hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed down her neck, tasting the warmth of her otherworldly pulse beneath his lips. 

He leaned back slightly, looking into her eyes, feeling the gravity of the moment settle around the pair. “I want you” he murmured. He really did. He had no idea how, why or who, to be frank, but he craved her.

Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to look into his emerald green orbs. It was just like the forest.  “Then take me” she whispered back.

With a slow movement, he pressed her back against the soft, icy moss. The world around them slowly faded as he kissed her again. Deeper this time… pouring all his desire into the action, savoring the taste of her lips, and the way her celestial presence made him feel. His hands explored her body, making it his goal to commit every little line to memory. He wanted to remember this. Her hands slid under his shirt, warm fingers dancing over his skin, fueling the fire in him. He could feel her heat radiating against him and he responded to that by deepening the kiss, wanting to wipe everything out of his memory, except for this.

His fingers were still under her dress, exploring the soft skin of her thighs, inching closer to her honey-soaked pussy. As he finally met her heat, she gasped, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, her body arching against him as an encouragement for him to continue. 

Dean met her gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation, but he saw none. He slowly slid his fingers deeper, feeling her sweet cunt envelop him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a low moan escaped her lips as he began to move his middle finger in and out. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he couldn’t help but murmur a breathless “You're incredible. So incredibly beautiful. So wet for me already.”

With each thrust of his fingers, he felt her walls clench around him, and eventually he found a rhythm that matched the heartbeat of the forest around them. 

“Dean” she moaned as her nails dug into his shoulders. “I need to feel all of you.”

Amidst hearing that, he captured her lips again, pouring every drop of his need into the kiss. 

He couldn’t wait any longer either. His own need had reached a fever pitch. His fingers slowly slipped out of her core, which earned a whine from her parted lips. He kissed her hard, his tongue sliding against hers as his fingers worked at the button of his jeans, his breath coming in shallow gasps. She was more than happy to help him, her hands quick and eager as she pushed his jeans down over his hips, his painfully hard length springing free from its confinements. He could feel the heat of her body, the way she pulled him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist, not a single thing between them now.

Dean’s hand slid up her thigh, guiding himself to her pussy, and he hesitated for a brief second, meeting her gaze again. Again, there was no doubt in her eyes, only a quiet plea for him to close the distance between them finally. He slid the tip of his cock up and down her sloppy heat a few times before he finally began to ease himself in. He pushed into her slowly, inch by incredible inch, savoring the feel of her cunt hugging him so snug. The soft gasp that escaped her lips as he filled her  was enough to make his cock twitch inside of her. She was tight, and oh, so warm, and every inch of him ached with the need to move, but he forced himself to go slow, to feel every moment, every convulsion of her pussy.

Her hands gripped his back, nails biting into his skin as her hips rose to meet him, her body urging him deeper and deeper – despite his effort to stay calm just for a moment. The feeling of her wrapped around him was almost too much and not enough at the same time. He groaned, his head falling against her shoulder as he pulled out almost all the way before thrusting into her once more, harder this time, losing himself in the way she moved beneath him.

She moaned his name, the sound sent a shiver down his spine. Dean’s pace quickened, his hips moving in time with hers, each thrust deeper, harder, rougher. 

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips finding his again as they moved together, the rhythm growing faster, more urgent. Every sound she made, every arch of her back, every gasp and moan spurred him on, driving him closer to the edge.

Dean’s hand slipped between them, finding her clit, and the moment he touched her there, she cried out, her body trembling underneath him as her release hit her, hard and fast.

“Dean, oh my— i’m going to—” and with that, her walls clenched around him, gushing all over his length. Threatening to slip out of her, because of the force of her release, he thrusted himself deeper. And then, he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I can’t—” and with a low groan, he followed her over the edge, his muscles tensing as his hot, white seed filled her, his hips bucking erratically as he tried to make his orgasm last as long as it is possible. 

For a long-long moment, neither of them dared to mov. Their bodies tangled together, the only sound is their ragged breathing as they came down from their highs. Dean’s forehead rested against hers, their lips brushing in soft, lazy kisses as they lay there, utterly spent.

They lay together in the quiet of the clearing, the warmth of their bodies cutting through the chilly air. Dean stared up at the sky, the stars barely visible through the branches overhead. His heart was still racing, his mind already starting to spin with what would come next. He still had no idea who she was. He still didn’t know if she was the one behind all those strange happenings around the area. 

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Then reality crept back in.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Dean blinked, once, twice, his body stiffening. The warmth that had enveloped him was gone, replaced by the biting cold of the winter air. He lifted his head, eyes squinting in confusion as his surroundings snapped back into focus. The enchanted glow, the surreal energy of the forest… all gone. Just the regular, old clearing. And there, standing at the edge of it, was Sam, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

“Dude” Sam started, his voice incredulous, “why the hell are you naked? It’s the middle of winter.”

Dean frowned, slowly realizing his current state. He glanced down at himself, sure enough, he was sprawled out on the cold, snowy moss, wearing nothing but his birthday suit. The warmth of her body and everything that had felt so real was now a distant memory. And yet… he swore it had happened.

“I…” Dean sat up, quickly gathering his clothes from the ground and putting them on, trying to come up with some kind of explanation that didn’t make him sound like a lunatic. “I was, uh… investigating.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Investigating? Naked? In the freezing cold?”

Dean let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s— It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, well, make it quick, because I’ve been looking for you for an hour, man” Sam grumbled. “What happened? You were supposed to check out the weird stuff going on, not have some naked winter party.”

Dean’s gaze darted around the clearing. She was nowhere to be found, no sign of her leaf-woven dress, her touch, not even a trace of her pinewood scent. It was like she had never been there. The forest felt… ordinary now. The magic, the connection… they all seemed to have vanished with her.

“I’m not sure” Dean admitted, standing up and brushing the snow off his legs, the chill sinking into his bones now that reality was firmly back in place. “There was this… girl. I think.” He paused, frowning. “Maybe?”

“Girl?” Sam’s eyebrow shot up even higher.

“Yeah, I’ve been seeing her for a while now… She was—” Dean gestured vaguely, trying to put words to what had just happened, but it felt harder and harder to grasp the details. “She was real, I think. Or… maybe she wasn’t. She could’ve been some kind of forest spirit. Or maybe I hit my head?” He shrugged, genuinely at a loss. “I don’t know, man.”

Sam shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “So you’re saying you’ve been seeing a girl, possibly not real, and decided to strip naked in the middle of the forest when you saw her once more?”

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it, his frown deepening. “Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“It is weird, Dean!” Sam exclaimed, motioning around them. “Do you see anyone else here? Anyone at all?”

Dean looked around the clearing again, trying to find any trace of her. There was nothing, just the trees, the snow, and the silent forest. No footprints, no clothes, no evidence that anyone other than him had been there at all. And yet, he could still feel her, the way her body had moved against his, the way her voice had whispered his name in the quiet of the night.

“I swear, it was real” Dean muttered, more to himself than to Sam. “I felt it.”

Sam sighed, getting Dean’s jacket from the ground and tossing it to him. “Whatever you felt, we need to get out of here before you freeze to death. We’ll figure it out later.”

Dean caught the jacket, wrapping it around himself with a huff. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, or if anything had happened at all, but there was still an ache in his chest, a feeling like he’d left something behind in that clearing. Or maybe it had all been in his head. Maybe the forest had cast some kind of spell on him, drawing him into some half-dream state where reality and fantasy blurred together. He wasn’t sure anymore. Was he— was he one of those victims he read about? But why does he remember it then? 

As he followed Sam out of the clearing, Dean glanced back one last time. The trees stood tall and silent, like keeping the secret of the girl’s presence. There was no sign of her. No shimmering figure stepping from the shadows, no soft voice calling him back.

But for just a second, he thought he saw something. — a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a faint, glowing shimmer in the air.

He shook his head. Maybe he was imagining it. Or maybe… just maybe… she'd been real after all.

Sam glanced over at him, frowning. “Dean, you okay? You look… weird.”

Dean smirked, pulling the jacket tighter around him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wondering if I’m gonna need therapy after this.”

Sam groaned. “Probably. Come on, let’s get you some dry clothes before you start hallucinating snow fairy porn again.”

Dean chuckled, though his mind lingered on the thought. Snow fairies, huh? He wouldn’t put it past the universe.

But as he walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder — had it been real? Or had it just been a fever dream? He’d never know for sure. But either way… he wasn’t complaining.

"Next time, though" he muttered under his breath, "I’m bringing a blanket."

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Don’t even get me started. The crack fic muse made me do it. Not that I mind.🤭

Let me know what you think.

And have a nice day!🤍