#but i hope you liked the red velvet reference

[peachylynnie]

the cat butler

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: in which sylus is eager to please you, as always. but this time, as a cat butler.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating, but sylus is down bad), references to the cat butler trailer, sylus with cat ears and a tail, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol, cussing, making out, and stalking(?).

a/n: i wrote this after reading somewhere that the upcoming memory might be our first-ever kiss with sylus. so consider this a prediction of some sort (probably not gonna happen). also, sylus' cat ears suit him so well. do not plagiarize or copy my work. sylus would not endorse plagiarism. enjoy!

“my lady,” a rich yet sultry voice calls. you shift uncomfortably in your sleep, wanting to rest a bit more.  

“my lady,” the voice repeats firmly. still, you dismiss it by grumbling and refusing to open your eyes. 

“my lady.” huh, that's weird. why does that voice sound like…

“my lady.” sylus?!  you burst open your eyes upon recognizing who was calling you. though, not without a startled "oh, god" because sylus was mere inches from your face.  

immediately, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to process what was happening. where were you? how long were you out for? and most importantly, why was sylus calling you "my lady?" not that you had any problem with it, but still. your eyes widen as you find yourself on a velvet sofa in a sleek lounge of some sort. extending your arms in front of you, you stare dumbfoundedly at the tight leather gloves enveloping your hands. confusedly, you look down as you pat your body. a silky red, a-line dress hugged your figure, and you couldn’t help but admire the strings of shimmering pearls that hung around your waist and neck.  

hoping for answers on how you got here and why you were dressed so nicely, you turn to look at sylus, who was kneeling on the ground next to the sofa to meet you at your eye level. you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your mouth. are those cat ears?!

nevermind the fact that sylus was dressed in a neat, scarlet tuxedo that matched the shade of your dress. nevermind the fact that he looked good in a tie—so good to the point you wanted to tug on it. nevermind the fact that he was wearing a clean pair of white gloves that outlined his fingers so nicely. what was with the cat ears?! and a tail, too?! 

"uhm" you start. "what’s with the…?" you point at his head, hoping that he would understand. you couldn’t care less about formulating proper sentences. right now, you wanted answers. where were you? why were you dressed so nicely? why the fuck is sylus wearing cat ears and a tail? and why did the caracal set suit him so well? 

sylus' crimson eyes move up cutely as if he was trying to see the ears for himself. then, they fall back down to you, but not without a chuckle. "they're cat ears, my lady," he answers teasingly. "isn't it obvious?" with that, the ears twitch excitedly. yup, you saw that right. they actually twitched. 

"holy shit," you mutter as you reach to stroke the ears. "can i?" 

sylus smirks as he gives you a single nod, closing his eyes to convey that you are more than welcome to touch him.  

the ears felt incredibly real. the fur was super soft, and you could feel the skin vibrating beneath your fingers. your eyes widen as you pinch the ears gently. they didn't just feel real. they are real. the sheer warmth you felt from touching the exposed skin in the ears told you so. fascinated, you move your fingers to the back of one of the ears to scratch at the fur. sylus purrs and leans into your scratches. you can’t help but giggle at the sight. "who's the kitten now, sylus?" you jest, lifting your free hand to scratch his other ear, causing the man to part his mouth and rest his head against your knee. fuck, your touches felt so good.  

wanting to get actual answers from him, you stop scratching and let your hands rest on your lap. before you can even speak, sylus hisses at the loss of your touch, his brows knitting and a scowl growing on his lips. he grabs both your hands and places them back on his ears. understanding his message, you continue your ministrations, trying to remember certain spots that cats tend to like. 

"as much as these ears suit you," you coo. "this is really weird. want to tell me what's going on, sylus?" you don't remember him contacting you for a new mission where cat props and formal wear would be involved. heck, you don't remember how you even got here. what exactly was going on?  

sylus sighs and raises his head back up before answering, "you purchased me, my lady." his amused gaze meets your bewildered one. “we signed a contract where i would be your cat butler as of today. perhaps you forgot because as soon as you signed the contract, you drank excessively from the bar over there," he juts his head towards the bar behind you. "then, you passed out." 

what in the actual fuck? did he say purchase? what contract? you don’t remember signing any contracts. and since when did you ever drink? no, this can’t be right. you don't even recall coming to this fancy place. let alone dressing up so nicely.  

"you're lying," you nervously say. "there's no one working at the bar, and i don't see any glasses either." for a moment, a look of pride flashes on sylus' face. you always were so observant. one of the many things he loved about you. if only you were more observant of his affection for you instead of being so oblivious all the time. "besides, what's with our outfits? i don't remember putting this on. let alone coming here..." 

sylus laughs endearingly. his signature, billionaire laugh that constantly stirs up butterflies within you. "trust me, my lady, you drank," he insists, grasping your wrist and pressing a fond kiss. flustered by his actions, you try to pull back, but sylus' grasp remains strong. his sharp gaze locks with yours as he continues. "the dress code here is formal. thus, our attire. you walked in looking like this. a wonderful choice, i must say. you look ravishing, and i am honored to have been sold to you because..." sylus leans in next to your face, his hot breath fanning your sensitive ears. "i wouldn't have anyone else as my master."  

you stand up immediately, uncontrollably blinking and blushing from what you just heard. unfortunately, you don’t realize that you are wearing heels, causing you to stumble backward. sylus swiftly stands up, pulling you to him with an arm around your waist, effectively and attractively saving you from your fall. you place both hands on his broad shoulders, trying to balance yourself and catch your breath. noticing that the two of you were basically conjoined by the groin, you avert your eyes away from him.  

"t-thanks," you stammer as you try to get some space by pushing at his shoulders. "you can let go of me now."  

sylus tilts his head, looking down at you mischievously and trying to meet your avoidant gaze. "is that a command, my lady?"  

puzzled by his question, you finally meet his eyes. sylus sighs a hum of satisfaction, relishing in your eye contact with him. "what do you mean command?" you ask. you were too occupied by sylus’ accusations of you drinking to fully capture his previous answers.  

"it's part of the contract you paid for. i am to obey your every command as your one and only cat butler." the man answers eagerly, as if what he had just said was completely normal. almost as if he was enjoying this.  

you blink once. then twice before asking, "i paid for this?" you did not like where this was going.  

"indeed, my lady. five million dollars to be exact. i am quite the expensive cat butler," sylus grins. normally, you would've found his grin cute. some fangs would peek out, and a slight dimple would show. moreover, he was wearing cat ears. which only added to his playful demeanor. but right now, you were mortified because FIVE MILLION DOLLARS?! WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THAT MUCH MONEY?!

"what?!" you struggle against his embrace. "what do you mean five million dollars? not even a rare protocore is worth that much!" you panic as you think about your savings. did you seriously spend all your savings on a cat butler contract and put yourself into years’ worth of debt? oh god, if so, you were fucked. say goodbye to all your years of hard work and saving. 

sylus frowns at your last statement. "are you not satisfied, my lady?"

with your jaw dropped, you look at the man towering over you as if he had said something, for lack of a better term, dumb. which he technically did because who would be satisfied after spending five million dollars on a cat butler contract?! (me). "yes?!” you say incredulously. “who in this situation would be satisfied?! you just told me that i blew all my savings and probably even more for a stupid contract!" 

sylus sighs, pinching his nose bridge with his free hand. while it was one thing to have something related to him get called stupid, it was another to see you so rattled. he had to ease your mind, knowing it would spiral if he didn't act soon. "now, now my lady. there is nothing stupid about this contract. you'd be surprised by the numerous benefits that come with it. which are but not limited to me obeying your every command." 

you don’t know which is worse. the head of onychinus telling you that you spent a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. or the head of onychinus telling you that you were actually benefiting from spending a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. as much as the idea of sylus following orders sounded like heaven, being broke in a matter of who knows how long, or in this case, little, and for a stupid reason at that, was not great. not great at all. your gaze shifts rapidly, distracted with coming up with a solution. "are there any refunds by chance?" you ask meekly. 

a dangerous look passes over sylus’ crimson eyes. with no ill intent, of course. he could never harbor any feelings of malice towards you. but the idea of you wanting a refund bothered him greatly. he was not going to let you get rid of him so easily. his arm around your waist tightens, bringing you even closer to him. lifting his free hand, sylus curls a finger under your chin, tilting your face upwards to meet his burning gaze. you shiver, forced to drown in his deep pools of rubies. feeling a rush of pleasure from finally having your attention on him, sylus moves his hand from your chin and reaches behind you to caress the blade of your shoulder. you can't help but shudder at the sudden intimacy. why did this dress have to expose your back? 

"even if my services were terrible," sylus doesn't cease his feather-like touches on your back, causing you to twitch and pant from sensitivity. "there are no refunds," he rasps as he traces a finger down your spine, prompting a whimper from you. enjoying the small yet addictive noises that leave your pretty lips, sylus smirks. yes, this was how it was supposed to be. you, in his embrace where only he could make you feel good and only he could hear your sweet, sweet sounds.  

"sylus..." you try your best not to moan. "s-stop it." you hide your face in sylus' chest, wanting to muffle your sounds and smother your embarrassment away. "i-i got it. no refunds."  

liking what he hears, sylus ceases his ministrations. he brings his hand back to your chin, gently pulling you away from his chest and slowly tilting your face so that you meet his gaze once more. "i'm glad you understand, my lady," sylus closes in on you, his lips millimeters apart from yours. "you won't be returning me anytime soon."  

sylus smashes his lips against yours, earning a moan from you. with the hand that was on your chin now cupping your face and the arm that was around your waist tightening some more, the two of you fall back onto the velvet couch. you gasp at the impact, causing sylus to slide his tongue in, capturing your own in a heated dance that he seemed intent on leading. you shakily wrap your arms around sylus' neck, trying to keep up with his relentless kisses. out of the corner of your eye, you see sylus' tail desperately swaying left and right. an idea flashes in your head. as sylus continues to swirl his tongue in your mouth, you raise your hand from his neck and gently tug at one of his cat ears. sylus jerks violently, mewling filthily into your mouth. taking that as a sign of encouragement, you continue playing with his ear, causing him to lose himself more and more in your lips, your scent, your everything. 

when the two of you grow in need of breaths, sylus pulls away, panting the same rhythm as you. you had no idea how gorgeous you looked right now. splayed out underneath him in tempting attire that was of his signature color. hair disheveled, cheeks rosy, lips swollen, eyes teary—god, you were going to be the death of him. tenderly moving a stray hair out of your face, the silver-haired man speaks.  

"so, what is your first command, my lady?"

extra:

you inhale sharply as you jolt out of bed. what the fuck was that?  you breathe rapidly as you take in your surroundings. sighing a breath of relief, you find yourself back in your room and your comfy pajamas. tiredly rubbing a hand over your face, you start to agonize over the fact that you dreamt about making out with sylus. not only that, you dreamt about making out with him in cat ears. why? you're not sure what this says about you as a person, let alone your growing attraction to him. did you have a thing for pet pla—you don't let yourself finish that last thought. ruffling your hair in frustration, you fall back onto your pillow, determined to recover from that dream. you decide that you are going to avoid sylus for a few days. 

shifting into a comfortable position, you shut your eyes and wait for sleep to find you, causing you to miss the mechanical crow with glowing red eyes flying away from your window and into the night. sylus, viewing the surveillance screen back at his grand residence, tilts his head in curiosity, a subtle smirk appearing on his lips.

 "what did you dream about, kitten?"

[mysteria157]

Merry Christmas from my little corner at the @pixelcafe-network. Thank you so much for hosting this gift exchange! I had so much fun writing this for my elf @grimmweepers. Your Christmas list gave me the opportunity to write Sukuna for the first time. I wanted to lean as much into your likes as much as possible so that it feels like it's you in this story.

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: True Form!Sukuna x Reader (Ryu)

Rating/CW: slight dark romance, fluff, implied sexual content, dark themes (references to violence, blood, destruction, and a hint of cannibalism because it's Sukuna). MDNI!

WC: ~8.5K

Summary: Sukuna gives in to mortal festivities, for the promise of a worthy gift, unaware that some traditions leave marks deeper than ancient power.

Divider: @cyberbeat @arminsumi @firefly-graphics

The winter night drapes itself across the ancient estate, stars scattered above like diamonds on black velvet. Fresh snow has transformed this formidable domain into something almost magical—though no amount of pristine white can truly soften the centuries of power that seems to pulse through every shadow of the grounds.

You used to take these walks alone, finding solace in the environment that gave way to the shifting change of the seasons. But now, on this chilly and almost silent night, your solitary footprints are accompanied by another. Deeper, more commanding treads belong to Sukuna, whose very presence seems to make the stars above burn brighter, as if they, too, acknowledge the power that moves beneath them, feeding off the cursed energy he emits with every breath.

Your exhale forms a frosty white cloud before vanishing into the night air. It’s cold, far too cold for a walk, but you’re out here to clear your thoughts, to quell the overwhelming urge to ask Sukuna a question that you don’t want to imagine the answer to.

The thought first emerged when fall gave way to winter, the autumn leaves replaced by the starkness of bare branches now hidden beneath blankets of snow. The thought of markets late at night adorned in yellow lights, of hot cocoa and gifts wrapped in red ribbon.

The words, having coiled behind your teeth for days like a spring, finally slink past your lips. “I was thinking…what if we celebrated Christmas together?”

“Christmas.” The word leaves his mouth not as a question, but as if it’s not worth inflection.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting your rolling anxiety. He’s never been one for new things. This is his domain, after all—his home, his formidable walls that he has erected and ruled with an iron fist. The mere thought of anyone—let alone a mortal—suggesting something outside his design is almost laughable.

You pause in your footsteps, tracing his looming shadow in the snow before you look up at him. He’s tall, looming with a height that comes not from this realm, his silhouette dwarfing everything around him. While you are covered in furs and wool and warmth, he stands in a simple black Haori, barely covering his skin and open to show his chest.

The dark markings of his tattoos glow like black embers in the moonlight, each one a testament to the ancient power that pulses beneath his skin. Two pairs of muscular arms fold across his chest, large and thrumming with strength. An archaic strength that can level cities and destroy with little effort, yet those same fearsome arms cradle you with unexpected gentleness in the depths of night.

The fact that you understand this side of Sukuna, gives you the strength to press on.

“It’ll be our first Christmas together,” you press.

“A mortal festivity,” he claps back, naturally sharp but with little heat.

“I’m a mortal,” you counter, meeting his gaze head-on, refusing to back down from the menacing glare you can see right through. “And from what I remember, I am your Queen.”

Quadruple crimson eyes narrow from your truthful declaration, their glow cutting through the frost-laden air like embers in the snow. The two on the right gleam brighter against the rough texture of his half-petrified cheek, like jagged stone contrasting with smooth flesh on the other side. “You mistake indulgence for approval.”

You shrug, nonplussed, sniffing the chilly air up your runny nose. “Then indulge me. Mortals, like myself, put up Christmas trees, decorate their homes, bake treats, and watch movies.”

He hums, taking a step toward you. As he draws closer, the air shifts. While you have no cursed energy, you’ve come to know his intimately. It presses against your skin like an unseen force, electric and stifling, its movements mirroring the emotions he tries to smother. You’ve learned to read it like your favorite book, though it’s a story only you seem privy to, and you don’t intend to let him know.

“Indulge me?” you try again.

He remains unconvinced, his characteristic indifference plucking at your cold skin as you look up at him unflinching. It’s not like he denies you often. Sukuna, for as powerful as he is, gives to your many asks with a wave of his hand as if your happiness is unwarranted, even if his gaze flickers to you minutely for praise at haven catered to you.

Your confidence has only grown steadily, but that anxiety that curls around an ask still tastes sour. So you pull out another mental note card, a line you practiced in the mirror for days for this very moment.

“Gift-giving is also another tradition,” you sigh in faux nonchalance, pursing your dry lips as you try to ignore the flicker of curiosity you see on his face. The subtle tick of his jaw, the way one of his eyes tightens just so, the feel of his cursed energy pausing in its movements as if to hear you more clearly. “I know you’d never turn down any sort of offering. Especially from your Queen.”

Only seconds of anxious silence pass before that deep hum permeates the air, a gentle give. “You use that title often, Ryu.” You shrug again, biting the flesh of your cheek to suppress the victorious smile you can feel in your muscles. “Why must I wait for a specific day of the year to receive a gift? I can simply take what I want with little effort.”

His hubris knows no bounds. Neither does your perseverance.

“You put up with a few days of Christmas cheer, and I’ll make sure you get the best gift ever. Something wonderful and fitting for the King of Curses,” you promise, hoping to bring him home with your sales pitch. “But no griping.”

Sukuna scoffs, indignation heavy in the sound as he puffs white smoke into the air. “I do not gripe.” The look you throw him is unimpressed; one brow arched in a silent challenge that grants you a narrowed-eyed glare of concession in return. “Why do you assume you will get what you want?”

He reaches for you as he complains, and despite his sharp tone, you lean into the weight of his touch. You’ve come to know the language of his hands, each gesture a revelation of the complex nature he embodies. Like now, as he adjusts the furs draped around your shoulders—precious things hunted and skinned himself. His movements are deliberate, with hands impossibly gentle despite their proven capacity for destruction.

“Because you see me,” you whisper, the words soft but heavy with meaning. They carry the weight of something unspoken, a recognition of the four-letter word he is not yet ready to voice—your understanding of his care beneath his praise, his protection weaved into his possession.

A sales pitch now seems trivial, disrespectful even, in light of how the tone has shifted around you. Shame prickles at your skin, but it fades just as quickly, overwhelmed by the truth of your words. You do see him, even when he's being stubborn.

Sukuna’s answering hum to your question—to the anxious worry that started this conversation—reverberates through the air, an unspoken approval that settles in the space between you both.

Days later, the skies bloom with gentle hues of cotton candy—pale blue and pastel pink, slowly darkening as the sun peeks on the horizon. The dawn of winter greets you with its chilly embrace, its breath sharp and unrelenting, its touch frostbitten. You’re bleary-eyed as you shuffle over broken branches and moss-covered paths in the East forest.

The weight of your determination keeps you moving, even as your body protests, regretting your tenacity because why would Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, buy a tree when he can simply ‘get one from the backyard.’

“I like that one,” you offer, shakily pointing with a heavily gloved finger at a modest six-footer, its snow-laden branches slumping under the weight.

“If I’m to entertain a mortal festivity, it will not be done poorly.”

You’re far too cold to point out his first gripe of the day. His voice carries that familiar edge, but beneath it rests a note that only you can hear—the same careful attention he uses when observing the movements of his enemies, now turned to the expansive forest to the east of his estate.

You close your mouth around an exhale, your cheeks puffing like a fish in your own rendition of a pout as you follow him. The forest stretches silent and vast around you, a living extension of how far his power goes. Sukuna stops abruptly, still as stone as he surveys the trees with a menacing gaze. The dominance he exudes seems to make the air itself hold its breath. You’re simply a spectator—watching an apex predator stalk its prey—it would be a marvelous sight if you weren’t shaking like a leaf.

“This one,” he declares at last, voice carrying the familiarity of pride and authority as he looks up at a magnificent pine.

It’s uncharacteristically different in every way; a shadow brown trunk as thick as his waist, strong branches that house deep green needles, forming their own canopy over the other and covered in the white blanket of snow. Its towering height practically pierces the sky, a physical representation of how the being in front of you sees himself—ambivalent and all-seeing.

With a flick of two fingers, Sukuna’s Cleave technique slices cleanly through the thick trunk. The looming pine shivers, snow plopping from its arms in white globs before it slowly falls to the ground with a muffled thud. The wind that picks up from the disturbance tousles his pink hair, strands whipping against his marked face. One of Sukuna’s muscular arms grabs his prize and effortlessly hoists it onto his shoulder.

You can’t help but admire the broad expanse of his back. The curve and dip of muscle against black markings that shift with each movement, the skin warm to the touch despite how cold he makes himself seem.

The sight of him makes you think of his Christmas gift—your secret project—the fabric carefully chosen to embrace that strength with something just as enduring. You wonder if he will notice the details, the painstaking intricacy you’ve chosen just for him.

His gift is soon forgotten when his gaze falls on you, an unmistakable glint of satisfaction in his eyes. Carmine pools that invite you to step closer and gaze beneath its liquid, to see small slivers of vulnerability presented in the form of the pine on his shoulders. He’s waiting, expecting not praise for his strength, but praise for what he has provided. An offering.

You smile gently, genuinely, and without quivering despite the temperature. “I love it,” you compliment, watching as your words card over his offering like a caress that only fans the flames of his pride. His belly mouth curves into a smirk, chuffed in agreement with its host, white teeth glistening and ghostly breath puffing in steaming plumes.

He walks to you, thunderous steps shaking the forest floor but doing little to shake you, tucking and readjusting your furs once more before ushering you back to the estate, his unspoken need for you to get warm carving a smile onto your face.

In Sukuna’s vast estate, where shadows roam, and servants move with silent reverence, there is no room for joviality and merriment. He rules unflinchingly, with a face usually etched in disinterest and a heart that beats only in the throes of violence and battle. But since you’ve set foot in his domain that he keeps dark and teeming with fear, things have changed.

Now, the halls carry the scent of your vast perfume collection, a blend of smoky oud and earthy florals that linger in the air long after you pass. The servants, once bound by fear, now offer gentle smiles to the mortal who goes against the rules of this cursed realm.

Now, the shadows walk with you, satisfying your thirst for the paranormal as they follow you like a silent watchdog, a testament to the orders of their master—a being with four arms, four eyes, and a grudging acceptance of your presence.

Now, the mortal who carved her way into Sukuna’s domain with hardly a blink, the mortal who can see beneath his veneer of bleach-white bone and hardened blood…

Now… that mortal has decided to bring Christmas to these ancient halls.

Darkness now flickers with light. Pine garland decorates the windowsills in the expansive front room of Sukuna’s estate, its sharp scent striking through the air with every brush of your fingertips along its needles. The front room, what was once empty and meant only as a tunnel to another destination, is now lively from your touch.

A tall fireplace, its mantle wrapped in garlands of cypress and silk ribbons the color of deep red wine that reminds you of his eyes, casts a warm glow over goblet-red curtains that frame looming windows and fur-lined chairs that you curl into when you read your many books.

Sukuna has molded his domain to fit your silent requests. Your Christmas spirit that Sukuna continues to entertain if only for the promise of his reward, breathes life. His spoils—the cleaved pine—stands proudly by the fireplace, its branches wrapped in shining white lights and delicate ornaments.

Uraume was diligent, while unwilling to entertain anything pertaining to mortals, their loyalty outshines their disinterest when it comes to their Queen. Said loyalty shines in the snow that rests on each emerald branch, crystalline shimmers colored amber and orange from the roaring flames of the fireplace. Their technique ensures it will never melt, an ethereal touch of winter preserved.

You can’t help the warm smile that graces your features as you admire the transformed space. But it’s the scents wafting from the kitchen that draw you from your admiration. Cinnamon and nutmeg dance with something darker, a metallic tang that speaks to how well you’ve learned to blend your world with his.

Uraume, for as menacing as a curse user they are, has the cooking skills worthy of Michelin praise. The kitchen is their sacred domain but is now a battlefield of flour and spices, mortal and ancient alike. The heat from multiple ovens warms your bare toes, and copper pots and pans clank and steam with soluble renditions of a Christmas feast.

Sukuna’s dutiful servant moves about the kitchen with practiced ease, refusing help from the other cursed spirit-like servants in your presence no matter how many times you’ve insisted that you don’t mind.

“The consistency is correct,” Uraume observes, subtle praise in their soft tone as they nod toward the ruby liquid you’ve folded into dough. “Sukuna-sama will find it acceptable.”

You hide your smile at their careful choice of words. Months of coexistence have taught you to read the subtle ways in which Uraume expresses care—their meticulous attention to your recipes when cooking for you, your happiness from delicious meals enough to mask their fondness they will never admit to.

“We’re going to make gingerbread houses,” you exclaim an hour later to an indifferent Sukuna. His presence in the kitchen is rare, and you’ve had to ignore the peep of garbled eyes from cursed spirits who poke through the kitchen doors in disbelief before scuttling away in fear of being caught.

The counter is littered with cooled cutouts of gingerbread house walls, arches, and windows. White icing in pastry bags that will serve as glue and gumdrops to be adorned as paneling is the perfect setup for this small occasion between you both.

Despite Sukuna’s menacing demeanor, he is astute. It’s why he’s achieved the status he has now, why he’s feared among the world, both mortal plane and astral. So he wastes no time piecing together his own creation, his eyebrows creased in concentration fitting of a warrior planning a siege.

As Uraume flutters around you both, you recount the tale of Hansel and Gretel, Sukuna’s crimson eyes gleaming with interest at the more gruesome parts of the brothers Grimm.

“So this witch,” he muses, two hands delicately pipping white icing for a jagged wall, his other two hands covered in flour. “She devoured children who wandered into her domain.” His eyes twinkle with approval, his belly mouth curving into a devious smirk. “An acceptable response to trespassers.”

“She built the house to lure him in,” you add, swallowing a chuckle as you feel his cursed energy wiggle around you in interest. “That’s why it was made out of sweets.”

“Why did these children not become a proper meal?”

“They outsmarted her,” you explain, watching in muted supplication as his face drops from satisfaction to disapproval. “Pushed her into her own oven.”

His belly mouth scoffs, frowning as his thick tongue tastes the spiced air. “Mortals.”

As your special cookies perfume the air with metallic sweetness, you admire Sukuna as he works. He utilizes all four hands to guide his gingerbread creation to completion, clicking his teeth when a wall crumbles in his palms and humming in delight when the icing holds steady. Your gingerbread house lays half-created as you watch him, observing in silence until his masterpiece sits before you.

It’s a fortress—walls as imposing as a cathedral’s, windows designed to daze would-be escapees. The path to the door winds hypnotically, sugar-crystal steps that seem to pulse with cursed energy, leading young feet exactly where he wants them. The final touch? Miniature figurines made of pretzel sticks and marshmallows that are arranged at the front door like an offering.

“The witch’s failure was in her execution, not her concept,” he declares. Where normal gingerbread houses invite warmth, his promises something darker—a blend of Christmas tradition and Sukuna’s deadlier inclinations. “No child would think to check for a secondary barrier here.” He speaks as if defending a dissertation, pointing to the candy canes that could easily become weapons instead of the holiday cheer they should represent.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, soft and genuine, as you admire his evil architecture. Four eyes find you immediately, piercing in their gaze as if defensive, yet still holding something akin to wanting your approval. Your hand finds his marked cheek, fingers tracing the tattoos that mirror all over his body. He leans into your touch with imperial indifference, wary of Uraume’s presence in the kitchen but not indignant enough to deny your warmth.

“A domain worth of the King of Curses,” you praise, watching how his belly mouth curves into the wide grin that his master does not offer. It’s more than enough to know he’s satisfied.

“And why is yours unfinished?” Sukuna asks, crossing his arms in mock reproach despite the splattering of flour on his skin and Haori. “Surely, my Queen will make something of equal likeness.”

The oven behind you dings before you can reply, and Uraume retrieves your treat, the aroma rich and spiced. You slide the steaming plate between you, the burgundy cookies still piping hot and ready for him.

“I had other priorities,” you supply, blowing on your fingers before you offer a cookie to his belly mouth. It opens wide, tongue lolling to the side like a panting dog and already watering before you place the cookie on his taste buds. He chomps loudly, sharp teeth devouring the concoction of ginger, blood, and aged spices from Uraume’s private garden—a perfect blend of your world and his. His cursed energy warms, wrapping around your waist in approval as Sukuna throws cookies into his own mouth now.

“Is this my gift?” is all he asks, satisfied but ever impatient as he and his stomach finish the plate. You don’t resist the eye roll. “It’s a very acceptable gift. However, I wouldn’t have entertained Christmas if you only wanted to cook.”

“It’s not your gift Sukuna.” You wave him off, snatching the now empty plate before his belly mouth’s tongue can lick at the blood crumbs, another heaping plate taking its place that Uraume leaves. “And don’t try to guess. You won’t get very far.”

“Hm.” He leans back slightly, one of his hands reaching to dust flour from his forearm. You roll your eyes again, choosing instead to finish your gingerbread house while he sulks. “Then it must be something more…significant. Ancient scrolls, perhaps? Found deep within forgotten temples, imbued with curses?” His voice drips with mock curiosity as if daring you to reveal even the slightest clue.

You snort, pausing mid-pipe to give him a flat look. “First of all, ancient scrolls? Really, Sukuna?” His belly mouth grumbles at being ignored, lips covered in a red dusting of cookie smacking for more. “Second of all, what would I be doing roaming around a temple? This isn’t the Heian era, despite how much you like to talk about it.”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly, more intrigued than annoyed by your commentary. “So I am wrong?”

“Completely,” you answer, biting back another laugh as you return to your task of piping green icing along a gingerbread wall to resemble bushels of grass. “Do you think your gift revolves around curses and destruction?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” he counters smoothly, his tone smug and his gaze unwavering.

You roll your eyes for what feels like the nth time in only so many minutes, feeling the warmth of his cursed energy curling around your waist again, tugging at you like a child pulling his mother’s sleeve for attention. “Just eat your cookies and stop guessing, Sukuna. You’re nowhere close.”

His belly mouth snickers as Sukuna throws another cookie into it, but his narrowed gaze lingers on you as if memorizing every shift in your expression, every subtle movement of your hands, waiting for you to slip. You have a feeling that even though Christmas is only days away, his curiosity will make it seem like an eternity.

As he often says, Sukuna indulges for you quite often. Trivial mortal instruments meant to stave off your boredom. He tells himself it’s for his own peace, to keep you from pestering him in the throne room, even though he still searches for you and longs for your presence in his lap.

One of those mortal instruments? A television. He knows what they are but has never been bothered to pay attention—an invention he dismissed as frivolous and mind-numbing. The flickering screen is often a source of laughter and comfort on one of your sleepless nights, and though he swore to never sit beside you while it played, here he is. On Christmas Eve. Reclined casually on the expansive sofa in your chambers, a disdainful sneer aimed at the annoying mortal known as ‘Buddy the Elf’, judgment radiating from his very being.

“Ryu, you cannot possibly enjoy this,” he huffs, one hand picking at nonexistent lint on his linen pants, another draped over the back of the couch, and one more cradling your soft form against him.

“Elf is a Christmas tradition!” You insist, handing a heaping hand of buttery popcorn to his belly mouth who accepts with a please grumble. Unlike Sukuna, who prefers a more…carnivorous diet, his belly mouth will eat almost anything it is fed. You chuckle softly, laying your head on his naked chest as you both watch Buddy decorate the department store into a winter wonderland. "I love it."

“He trespasses into their domain and then defiles it. Disgusting.”

“I thought you agreed not to grumble.”

“I never agreed.”

You hide your smile in the warmth of Sukuna’s side, breathing in the familiar aroma of burnt incense that clings to his skin, grounding and intoxicating. The movie plays on, you enjoying, while Sukuna analyzes each scene with the precision he’d use to raze a village. He won’t admit what he’s been reduced to—a powerful being indulging in idiotic entertainment to please the mortal lady of his estate. All for a gift that he cannot guess.

You trace idle patterns on his marked arm. Each touch makes his cursed energy flutter beneath your fingertips, electric kisses on your skin that he pretends not to notice. These are the moments you love most—when the fearsome King of Curses allows himself to simply…exist beside you, his pride softened by the peace you often bring.

“A weapon,” he says suddenly, his voice cutting through Buddy and Jovie’s shower singing.

You blink, craning your neck to look up at him. “What?”

He gestures expectantly to the room around him. “You’ve found a weapon worthy of my domain.”

You should have known the moment he stopped complaining about the movie that his attention had drifted. The fact that this is what he is thinking about makes warmth bloom in your chest. “Are you guessing?”

“I do not guess,” he insists, glowering at the television to avoid looking at you, his curiosity-tinged cursed energy betraying him. “I deduce.”

A weapon would be fitting for someone like him—his strength, his dominance, his endless hunger for power. But it’s a far cry from what he will get. You throw more popcorn into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at just how wrong he truly is.

He’s silent only for a moment before he adds. “Why must I wait until tomorrow, when you can simply tell me now?” His logic is, as usual, rooted in authority and impatience. You chew another handful of popcorn deliberately, ignoring him as you keep your eyes glued to the screen.

Not even five minutes pass before one of his large hands brushes against the nape of your neck. His fingers card through your hair, tugging the strands—not enough to hurt, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You know what he’s doing. His touch feels like a predator sneakily luring in prey. You know this game—this is Sukuna feigning boredom because he’s curious, using seduction to coax you when you’re being stubborn. It’s as effective as it is dangerous. But this time, you’re prepared.

“If you’re going to ignore the movie,” you trail off, your voice a mix of seductive challenge and amusement. You twist in his lap to straddle his waist, sliding your hands up his chest, tracing your fingers around his nipples in slow, deliberate circles. He does not react, at least not on his face. But you can feel the imperceptible jut of his hips, feel his cursed energy hum up your calves, and wrap around your body like a warm fog.

“I know of something else we can do.” You’re suggestive, voice dropping to the pits of your stomach as your lips brush along the sharp edge of his jaw. The shift in power is immediate, and exactly what you want. His hands tighten on your waist, head tilting slightly, giving you better access to lavish him with praise.

“Is that so?” His voice is pitched low, heady already. “Anything is better than this drivel.”

You roll your eyes as you fall back on the sofa, your body arching under his touch as he pulls you closer. Your hand slides lower, tracing the edge of his haori where it hangs loose against his skin.

“You’re impatient as usual,” you whisper, nipping lightly at his neck. “But you’ll wait this time. Won’t you?”

His eyes narrow as if in protest. But he doesn’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, his hands roam your body, each touch firm and possessive. You grin against his skin, knowing you’ve managed to distract him…at least for now.

“A temple,” his voice rumbles through the darkness, shaking you from the deep edges of sleep. His massive form curves around you possessively, his warmth seeping into your skin. Both of you lie tangled in the aftermath of your earlier indulgences—the sofa, the wall, and, finally, the silk sheets of his bed. All bearing witness to his insatiable need for you.

“Mmm?” you mumble, still trying to pull yourself awake.

“Built in my honor,” he elaborates without repeating himself, shaking you again with a harshness that makes you yelp and throw a glare over your shoulder. He smirks to himself as if he’s finally solved the mystery. “That is my gift.”

You groan, burying your face in your pillow, but secretly relishing in the way he can’t seem to let this go. Rolling over halfway, you peek up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. The moonlight creates a shimmering backdrop, outlining his form with silver, blood-red eyes gleaming with determination. For someone who claims to have no interest in mortal traditions, he’s relentless about this one.

“You woke me up to guess….again,” you grumble, glaring at him through a half-open eye.

“I do not guess,” he starts, ready to repeat the same phrase from hours ago. “I simply—”

“Deduce, yes, I got that the first time.” You cut him off and surge up to give him a kiss, feeling his surprise for only seconds before he melts into your affection. “Go to sleep.”

“A secret text,” he murmurs against your lips, undeterred even as his arms pull you closer. “Written in blood.”

You grimace before answering with your lips on his again, your leg curling around a thick waist, ready to use the ammo from your arsenal just like a few hours ago. “Do I need to distract you again?” you ask, lifting an eyebrow.

The midnight air watches with bated breath as Sukuna rolls on top of you, his towering frame rousing the tingle between your legs.

“I know your method of distraction,” he whispers against the skin of your neck. His belly mouth kisses the skin of your inner thigh, licking its lips at the promise of what you might offer if you’re willing. “Considering you are no novice, one might think that you keep secrets from your King often.”

Your affronted laugh dissolves into a sigh as both stomach and Sukuna adorn your skin with wet kisses—one along the vein of your pelvis while the other works at the skin behind your ear. “O-one might think,” you manage, gasping as his mouth finds the pulse in your neck, “that my King is simply impatient for Christmas morning.”

“It is already past midnight,” he growls at the feel of your touch drifting lower, his cocks already throbbing and oozing precum. “Merry Christmas.”

“A proper Christmas morning!” you correct with a chortle, smacking his chest playfully. He hums noncommittally, the sound vibrating through you both, possessive and yet tender in a way that only you are privy to. “A few more hours. Let me wake up properly.”

With those final words, you promptly roll over, denying him any more sensual touch that could ignite the early morning. Sukuna, used to your defiance, simply grumbles at your withdrawal, choosing instead to press searing kisses along the naked skin of your back. They ignite the embers in your belly but are not persistent enough to tempt you further.

“A domain expansion,” he insists, inhaling the perfume at the dip of your spine, lips brushing the soft skin there.

“I can’t even do that.” Your voice is heavy, the dredges of sleep finally pulling at your consciousness.

“More blood cookies.”

You remain silent, using his solemn guesses as music to lull you back to sleep.

Sukuna can feel your presence even deep in sleep, his cursed energy wound tightly around you like a second skin, always attuned to your warmth, your breath, the way you shift beneath the covers. So when that connection shivers—when his energy touches only empty space—his crimson eyes snap open. Your side of the bed is still warm, a ghost of you lingering on his silk sheets.

He can still feel you in the estate, so he rises slowly, surveying his chamber. He takes in the transformation--the pine and silk ribbons that are around the mantle now present in his chambers, and the smell of cider and blood cookies that still wafts in the air around him. Resting along one wall is a beautiful vanity carved from marble with obsidian-lined mirrors and velvet surfaces adorned with your plethora of fragrances. The table near his window is littered with books, a speaker—another mortal instrument—rests quietly, no classical music that you enjoy playing.

His room—once untouchable, dark, and sacred—is now infused with you. It should feel like a violation, his personal sanctum defiled with the touch of a mortal. And yet.

His body is no longer cold in the halls because you thrive in warmth. His servants may bow in fear to him, but they smile at you. Shadows, once tools of terror, are now a source of protection and amusement, a manic gleam of fascination with the otherwordly preventing you from being fearful.

His emotions are still a mystery, but slowly unfurling like petals that have been sleeping for many winters. Anything besides strength and power, besides determination and tenacity are weak—should be weak. But you feel these emotions plenty, and to Ryomen Sukuna, you are far from weak.

The soft yellow lights from the pine tree spill against the floor, welcoming his bare feet as he enters the large living room that has come to life because of you and for you. He won’t admit it out loud, the pride that surges through his chest like a rushing wave when he looks at the tree. A pagan symbol meant to honor a god that is not himself, willingly brought into his domain by his own hand, a rare sight in his forest that only his eye could catch. He cleaved it. He carried it upon his shoulders. He cupped the approval in your eyes like water in a shallow pool in a drying desert, sacred and coveted.

His efforts have become yours, decorated in tinsel and ornaments, in obnoxiously bright lights and snow that will never melt. And you sit next to it, your silhouette glowing against the roaring fireplace, your gaze looking up at what he’s allowed you to have. You noticed his presence long ago, but you remain transfixed with the tree, a soft smile gracing your features as he draws closer.

“It is far too early,” he rumbles, his voice gentle but heavy in the silent Christmas air. “Come back to bed.”

You huff in reply, not bothering to offer words even as he sinks down next to you. His arms crossed over his chest, his legs folding in to sit with grace on the fur-covered floor. This close, he can smell another fragrance that you collect, a smoky Oud that coats your skin like a second skin.

It’s one of his favorites, yet another thing he will not admit, but you know. You know from the way he buries his face in your neck at night, his chambers shrouded in darkness beside the slanting of moonlight on his sheets, his cursed energy caressing your skin in appreciation.

“It’s a great tree, you know,” you sigh, wistfully. You hope to keep the tree up and lit long after Christmas passes. It’s a wonderful sight, a depiction of a past life before you became aware of the unknown, of curses and spirits, sorcery and realms besides Heaven and Hell. To see it now, in the domain of a powerful king, shining brightly as if the one who cut it down did not have four arms and eyes. “It’s strong…resilient.”

“Of course it is. Who do you take me for?” he snaps, tone not holding any heat as his sharp gaze looks at you from head to toe. He leans imperceptibly into you when you laugh, a sound that shakes from your robe-covered chest and into the warm air, the shadows catching it as if they are fireflies in the night.

You finally pull your gaze from the tree, looking to Sukuna and he refuses to let you hear the hitch in his breath. He refuses to tighten his jaw or let you hear the click of bone as he fights the urge to openly bask in your gaze. “I have something for you.”

You grab a box beneath the tree, the only object that decorates the skirt. You’re climbing into his large lap before he can protest, willingly invading his space without fear of the consequences. For others, a swift death. For you, a subconscious shift in his form, one of his arms falling behind you and hitching along your hip to steady you on his thigh.

“I hope you like it,” you muse, shrugging with indifference to shield your anticipation. “I know "human sentiments" are not your specialty.”

The hands not holding your back trace along the red ribbon, silky soft and tied neatly by you. But before you can push the box more insistently into his hold, his hands slide under yours, firmly stilling your movements.

One of his hands reaches behind his back, his form shifting closer before he presents you with his own box. It’s smaller than yours, crafted in dark, polished wood, the flames from the fireplace glimmering along the surface.

“How can I let you meddle and not have anything to counter it with?” It’s all Sukuna offers, tone low and edged with something warmer than usual. He places the box in your hands, his gaze heavy on your face as though waiting for a reaction. Truly, the thought of him getting you something had not crossed your mind. Sukuna seemed more than willing to put up with your holiday antics if only to get something in return. So the weight of the box in your hands, cool against your palm, feels substantial.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid, the dark wood creaking softly. Nestled inside a bed of rich blue velvet, is something that steals the breath from your lungs. It gleams against the firelight as you pick it up, its crystal surface refracting shards of gold and crimson that dance across your body. The shape is elegant yet otherworldly, the surface etched with markings that you’ve come to see throughout his estate. A stopper made of black Onyx crowns it, carved into a teardrop that you pinch and pull to open.

The scent curls into the air, smoothing beneath your nostrils in a delicate yet commanding embrace. It’s sharp at first, with notes of what you recognize as juniper and lemon, fresh and crisp like the frost that curls on the windows in your chamber. You’re an expert in fragrance, so it doesn’t take you long to detect the undercurrent of bergamot and pepper, adding an edge that’s reminiscent of Sukuna’s power—lurking beneath the surface.

It seems as if the notes are never-ending. Pine needles and incense weave into a rich, earthy warmth, like the forest you both walked through to cut down the decorated pine that rests behind you. Amber and balsam provide a sweetness that lingers with its base notes and a touch of vanilla. Finally, the richness of cinnamon adds a spicy conclusion, as if kissing your skin before it fades into the morning air.

“You didn’t,” you begin, mouth suddenly dry, your eyes quite the opposite. “You made this…?”

“Do you think anyone else could, Ryu?” he counters, his tone holding a rare softness that you wish you were more levelheaded to preserve forever. A hand not resting on your back drifts along your shoulder blades, caressing in a mixture of observance and reverence. “It is yours.”

Like everything else in this domain.

That is what he wants to add. Is what curls at the tip of his tongue. But he uses your fluttering eyelashes to distract that urge that throbs in his chest. Uses the sight of you resting the perfume carefully back in its velvet encasing before closing the wooden box as if it might break.

“It’s beautiful,” you finally whisper, uncaring of how shaky you sound. The gift is uniquely Sukuna, deeply reflecting his essence but still having you in mind. “Thank you.”

He offers that characteristic hum, rumbling through your body and clenching around your heart with a force he’s not yet ready to acknowledge. His belly mouth curves into a smug grin, but his eyes are still on you as if searching for something.

“Another example of my indulgence that you mistake for generosity.”

The way his cursed energy hums around you, warm and protective, tells you otherwise. And it only serves to make you laugh, finally wiping the tears from your cheeks and gently setting the wooden box on the fur rug beneath you both.

“Uh huh,” you tease, snickering at his frown you can see right through. You finally pick up your box, the surface warmed by the fire, now resting in his hands. The teasing air around you both falls to the wayside, hushed anticipation taking its place.

He’s spent days pestering you about what he would get, and now, with you on his lap and his massive hands cradling the box with unexpected gentleness, his curiosity morphs into something else. A prize he’s excited to have and now afraid to open. Not in fear—Sukuna has no room for fear—but in anticipation.

It takes everything in you not to snatch the box and open it yourself, but eventually, he does, and the purse of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes fall before you like a book as old as time finally opening.

The silk is as dark as the shadows that roam these halls, shimmering like oil in water as it slides along Sukuna’s thick fingers. To anyone else, the material would simply be silk. But to Sukuna, he can feel the cursed energy that pulses along it, no doubt stitched together with a cursed thread strong enough to embrace him and yet still soft to the touch.

You had no way to conjure or control cursed energy to weave into the fabric, so you had to turn to Uraume for help. Their frosty hands had guided yours, harnessing the cursed energy necessary for you as you wove the threads, ensuring the haori could hold the weight of Sukuna’s power while remaining as delicate as the intentions behind it.

The silk mirrors the intricate markings on his skin, its edges dyed in gradients of shadow and blood.

“It’s a Haori,” you finally speak, soft and given space so he can observe his gift without hurry. “It’s all you really wear, so I thought crafting something of my own would be….nice.”

Words gather on his tongue, and then scatter like leaves in a storm, too feeble to express the weight of what he feels. He knows that a simple hum of approval won’t be enough—not this time. Not for you. But as he readies himself to speak, opening his mouth just so, his breath catches when he looks inside one of the sleeves.

The inner lining is adorned with ancient symbols sewn in patterns only he would recognize, the same ones you’ve felt him trace in the air around you when he thinks you’re sleeping, offering protection for when he cannot be near you. They shimmer faintly, their glow deepening in the shadowed folds of silk and fading when touched by light—a testament to the darkness he commands and the solace he finds within it.

“Ryu—”

“At least put it on,” you interrupt, voice slightly shaky and betraying your exposed nerves. You hold the garment delicately, taking it from him and helping each arm through the sleeves. The silk moves like smoke around his massive form, designed to accommodate while maintaining the elegant lines that befit a being of his stature. Your eyes are on his skin, focused on the hem of his lapels as you trace over it and rest your hand on his chest.

“There,” you whisper, smiling but not looking up at him. His heart is steady beneath your palm, not fluttering like a bird in a cage, and you’re not sure whether to be upset that your gift doesn’t make his heart race. “It looks good on you.”

It fits him perfectly and thrums with a warmth that echoes the temperature blooming in his chest. That three-letter phrase—that elusive word that’s made his lip curl in disgust since the beginning of time, now pounds in his ears from the garment that sits on his skin.

It’s not just a garment—it’s an acknowledgment of who he is in his truest form, a declaration that you see his beauty in both his power and his evolution. The way it drapes over his marked skin, how it seems to pulse with its own life in response to his cursed energy—these details speak to your understanding of him, how you’ve learned to…love both the demon and the subtle changes your presence has wrought in him.

“You see me,” he finally speaks, uncharacteristically hushed. You see him—demon and protector, destroyer and creator, ancient force and the being who has learned to nestle mortal joy in hands only meant for destruction.

They’ve always been directed at you. Not from him. He’s never said them before. He’s never really known how, and part of him has always been envious of how the words can fall so effortlessly from your lips.

He’s never said them before. And yet now, at this moment, it feels like if he doesn’t act, the opportunity will be lost forever, forced down into the pit of his belly for who knows how long.

You hold your breath when you feel one of his hands cradle your cheek, massive enough so that his fingers card through your dark hair.

“And I see you, Ryu.”

The words feel like a promise. Like they will probably be rare but will only hold more and more weight as time goes by. And that’s okay for you. To be in his presence. To open him up and show him that he is capable of something gentle enough to hold you. That’s your gift that you will never need to wait until the 25th of December for.

His belly mouth is unusually silent, but his cursed energy tightens around you like a caress. Warm and vibrating, a protective weight that will remain around you for as long as you breathe. It speaks volumes that his pride won’t quite let him voice.

You lift a hand to rest on his cheek, tracing along the smooth skin that gives way to the rough texture that wraps around his right side. His two eyes on this side are more narrowed, encapsulated in the hard surface around it but still oozing dominance that could make others cower and definitely not come closer like you do. You cup his jaw before finally meeting his gaze—soft meeting a harshness that will never affect you, love meeting the beginnings of the same that linger beneath crimson pools.

“I see you too, Ryomen.”

The sound of his name makes his chest tighten, the organ behind his sternum pounding irregularly for only a second before falling back in line. His given name is forbidden for any who wish to speak it in likeness—he will only tolerate the name ‘Ryomen’ if it is wrapped in fear, or if it falls from your lips.

The silence lingers for what feels like forever, his hands holding you on his lap while he lets you map his face. Your heart flutters, happiness pulsing through your veins with every beat, cataloging every aspect of this moment in your mind forever.

“There is one mortal tradition,” he finally muses, his voice carrying that particular note of mischief that always makes your breath catch, “that I find…acceptable.”

It’s the kind of tone that usually follows lips along your skin and hands between your thighs, reminiscent of a man who can only bask in vulnerability for moments before shifting to something heady and tinged with lust.

Before you can question his motives, one of his hands lifts to hover above you both. His cursed energy manifests between his fingers, dark and potent, morphing itself into something that makes you snort in delighted surprise. Dark tendrils grow slowly from the mass of energy between his fingers, twisted and mangled to form branches, its leaves pitch black with berries that gleam like drops of blood.

A twisted version of mistletoe, the only representation that would be acceptable to someone like Sukuna.

“Of course, you’d make it look menacing,” you tease, giggling softly as his other arms draw you closer to his chest. His belly mouth snickers from below you, ready to join his host in whatever is planned. One of your fingers traces the metal of his gauges, your eyes narrowing in playful indifference.

“Then I advise you to have one ready for next year.”

Your heart stops, lungs seizing in your chest as the words tunnel into one ear and out the other. Next year. The idea hangs in the air, fragile and precious—proof that even Ryomen Sukuna, with all his arrogance and dominance, is willing to entertain a future with you.

The mistletoe pulses above you, casting reddish shadows across your faces, and you don’t need to think any longer as you lean in to slide your lips along his. His hands widen the expanse of your back, your robe slipping off your shoulders to hang in the crevice of your elbows, the heat from the pulsing mistletoe spreading over your chest. The naked feel of you against his torso pleases him, and beneath the prideful smirk against your mouth, beneath the snicker from his belly, you taste that four-letter word in his mouth, siphoning as much of it as you can before you pull away and rest your forehead against his.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper against his lips, your body warming even further despite the heat from the fireplace.

He offers that hum—that characteristic hum that means so much.

Acquiescence.

Agreement.

I see you.

The mistletoe falls to the floor, crunching beneath your weight as Sukuna lays you on the fur, hands tracing your waist, sliding along your spine, hiking your legs around him. He doesn’t speak, content to admire you beneath him—a mortal without cursed energy who loves perfume, the paranormal, and classical music. A mortal who hates spiders, but loves Gothic architecture, monsters, and the many books that line his walls.

A mortal who has crawled beneath his skin and nestled there, unwilling to leave. And he’s too ashamed to admit that he gave up trying to pry you from inside of him a long time ago.

You throw your arms around his neck, impatient and tired of his staring, carding your fingers through deceptively soft pink hair to pull him down so that you can once again honor this particular tradition—one that, like everything else between you, has been transformed into something uniquely yours.

Merry Christmas, @grimmweepers !!!!

[gyumibear]

˗ˏˋ STUPID CUPID ˎˊ˗

“cupid, what you do to me….” | stupid cupid — nct dream

synopsis ── after your latest forum fails miserably, you’re almost out of an extracurricular! that is, until a mysterious account going by the name “cupid” brings you just the thing you need to fix your reputation: park wonbin, radio show host and your longtime crush. with the help of cupid, wonbin suddenly falls head over heels in love with you! you’d expect for this to be a good thing right? but no! everyone’s starting to notice how strange wonbin’s acting and now it’s up to you to figure out how and if you can get wonbin back to normal before anyone finds out what you’ve done. especially because “cupid” has disappeared… stupid cupid.

pairing — campus crush!park wonbin x journalist!reader

genre — smau + written. romcom. suggestive. love spell au. college au. angst. “strangers” to lovers.

warnings — hella swearing + crude humor (kys jokes). mentions/illusions to: food/sex/alcohol consumption. fighting (physical and verbal). mind control (what cupid does is essentially brainwashing). light jealous and possessive behaviors. use of pictures of yn but only for reference. everyone makes fun of each other a lot, but not maliciously. yn is a manga reader so spoilers for jjk, csm, the summer hikaru died & black butler. more warnings in the actual chapters, but please always lmk (!!) if i missed something. keep in mind: this story doesn’t describe the idols in real life and is written by a blk person so aave will be used.

playlist — stupid cupid nct dream. mutual butterflies ryan trey. don’t get mad wayv. cosmic red velvet. one kiss riize. love language hibiki. off the record ive. 2nite p1harmony.

notes — the taglist is open! (26/50) updates every saturday! creds to the respective artists for the graphics used! please consider reblogging or replying with your thoughts on each chapter!! it means the world to me but i appreciate spam likes too! you can join the taglist by replying to THIS post. asks will be deleted sorry </3… it’s just easier to manage for me.

profiles ── hate91.1 | public forum mods | specialz

act one let me monopolize that heart…

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ONE ── this week’s forum

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TWO ── nobody wants wonbin

ᯓᡣ𐭩 THREE ── chat… am i cooked?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FOUR ── tell her the truth

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FIVE ── party ready!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SIX ── byob (bring your own baby)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SEVEN ──

ᯓᡣ𐭩 EIGHT ──

ᯓᡣ𐭩 NINE ──

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TEN ──

act two girl you got me crazy…

to be added…!

additional notes ── ah sunny back again with another smau! yippee!! um, i don’t have much to say except hii if you’re new round these parts.. i hope y��all enjoy because i worked hard and i hope this doesn’t flop? i’ll be sad. pleek.. pleek…?

early taglist ── @onlyhyunjin @pxnklover @glorism @nujeskz @soheendo @starwonb1n

2024 © GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify, or translate my work onto other social media sites.

[evermore-fashion]

Met Gala 2024: Top 5 Men's Looks

So we've seen what some of the female attendee's bought to the Met Gala, and now it's on to the men of evening. As you all know I'm not into men's fashion at all but seeing as this is the Met Gala and men in the world of show business are starting to step up with their red carpet looks it's only fair I give you all my favourite looks of the night.

Like before my opinions are my own, they're not gospel so don't take what I say personally especially if you disagree. Remember fashion is art and art is subjective. 1. Gustav Magnar Witzøe wearing Versace Firstly I had no idea who this guy was until today and second I know his outfit wasn't everyone's taste. However I just love the fact that it wasn't a tuxedo or a suit in a vibrant colour. I love the fact that it's fun and eye-catching haute couture outfit designed for a man that leans into the roman and greek statues you'd find in stately gardens. 2. Sebastian Stan wearing Ami Paris If anyone was wondering who I was referring to last week when I slyly mentioned who I hoped was going to show up to the Met Gala. It was this handsome man and boy he did not disappoint because he didn't show up in a suit. I love the fact he went more casual but with the long coat and black embellished flowers that just added that final touch that to me made his look a standout. Sebastian Stan, I am free and single whenever you are... just kidding. 3. Barry Keoghan wearing Burberry This guy has been hot property in the acting world recently so it was no surprise to see him attend the Met Gala. The reason why he made my top 5 was because even though he was wearing a suit, it reminded me of the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. I just love the fact that it's vintage but not at the same time and the green velvet jacket looked amazing on him. 4. Bad Bunny wearing Maison Margiela This was another outfit that has grown on me the more I look at it. I don't know what it is that I love about it but I just do and I think Bad Bunny looks amazing in it. It stands out despite the fact that it's black with hints of red in it and somehow it fits the theme perfectly.

5. Wisdom Kaye wearing Robert Wun So there's one thing I've noticed about this year's Met Gala... men look good in long coats/capes and I'm here for that trend. Wisdom Kaye stood out simply because red suited him perfectly and I love that his overall outfit was elegant but also edgy thanks to the burn marks on his hat and along the bottom of the coat.

[speaknow-sw]

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓡𝓮𝓶𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼

Summary : Anakin says it’s a relationship without names. Maybe you can help him change his view. Word count : 2.3k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, Vampire! Anakin, Human! Reader, nipple suckling, pussy-eating, vaginal fingering, PiV, blood sucking, biting, brief cockwarming.

AN : Why’s Vampire! Anakin is soooooo…. Anyway I enjoyed writing this one cuz it was fun searching the aesthetic and music to go with. Maybe I listened to A Little Death by the Neighborhood too much for my own sanity… The ghibli reference at the end…iykyk. Hope ya’ll enjoy !

In the dimly lit apartment, the air carried an unsettling mix of warmth and cold, an atmosphere that seemed to vibrate with secrets. The walls, adorned with dark, rich tapestries, absorbed the soft, flickering light from a single candle. Shadows danced around the room as if alive, hinting at the presence of something far beyond the ordinary.

Anakin Skywalker, his skin pale and his eyes an intense, unyielding red, moved with a grace that was both mesmerizing and unsettling. He was a creature of contradictions—a predator with a serene façade, his gaze both alluring and terrifying. His presence dominated the room, filling it with an undeniable tension that pressed against the senses.

You, a mere human, sat on the edge of the bed, heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Anakin’s relationship with you was one of forbidden intimacy—a darkly sensual dance that played on the edge of danger and desire. The depth of his affection was as potent as the danger he presented.

As Anakin approached, his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory intensity that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat from his body, a contrast to the cool, almost icy chill that seemed to surround him. His presence was magnetic, pulling you into a world where every touch, every look, carried a weight of dark promise.

He reached out with a slender, yet powerful hand, brushing a lock of hair from your face with a tenderness that was at odds with his dangerous nature. “Do you know,” he murmured, his voice a dark velvet caress, “how much I crave the warmth you bring into my life?”

You shivered at his words, caught between fear and an unquenchable desire. His fingers lingered on your skin, tracing a path from your temple down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The sensation was both thrilling and frightening, a reminder of the dangerous allure he held.

Anakin’s gaze never wavered as he leaned closer, his breath cool against your skin. “You are the only one who has ever made me feel this… alive,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear. The words were a dark promise, a confession of his vulnerability hidden beneath layers of his monstrous exterior.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, asking for permission that you knew you were powerless to deny. With a sudden, swift movement, he captured your lips in a kiss that was both gentle and fierce, a dance of hunger and longing. His touch was electrifying, igniting a fire within you that seemed to burn away any lingering doubts.

"Anakin," you breathed, the name slipping from your lips like a prayer, though you weren't sure if you were begging for mercy or surrender.

His hand moved slowly, almost reverently, as he reached out to trace a finger along the line of your jaw. His touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting every nerve in your body. You leaned into his touch, unable to resist the pull, the overwhelming need to be closer to him.

"You’re home," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with an intensity that made your heart pound even harder. "But now that you are..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. The implication hung in the air between you, heavy and intoxicating. There was no turning back now. You were his, whether you had meant to be or not.

His other hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. The sudden closeness stole your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to steady yourself. His face was so close now, his breath cool against your lips as he leaned in, his eyes burning with a hunger that made your knees weak.

"You're so beautiful," he observed, his tone almost worshiper as his gaze searched your face.

You were unable to form words as his fingers trailed down the side of your neck, pausing where your pulse beat frantically beneath your skin. He could feel it, you knew—the rush of blood, the warmth of life that coursed through you. You could see the desire in his eyes, the barely-contained need that lurked just beneath his controlled exterior.

Slowly, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body trembling with anticipation. There was a moment of stillness, a breath held between the two of you, and then you felt it—the sharp, unmistakable prick of his fangs as they grazed your skin.

He paused, his lips just barely brushing the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and you could feel the sharpness of his fangs, the promise of what was to come. His hand continued its slow, soothing strokes through your hair, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment.

“I’ll be gentle,” Anakin promised, his voice barely above a whisper, as his thumb traced the line of your jaw. “But I need this. I need you.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, he pressed his lips against your neck, and you felt the sharp sting as his fangs pierced your skin. The pain was brief, quickly overshadowed by a wave of warmth and pleasure that radiated from the point of contact, spreading through your entire body.

Anakin’s hand tightened in your hair, his fingers gently massaging your scalp as he drank, his every movement careful, deliberate, as if he were savoring every drop. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, holding you steady as your knees grew weak under the intensity of the sensation.

As he fed, you could feel his desire, his need for you, in the way he held you, the way he caressed your hair with a tenderness that spoke of a deep, consuming passion. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you, bound together in this dark, intimate ritual.

He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against the wound as he murmured against your skin, “You’re perfect… so perfect.” His voice was filled with something akin to reverence, and the way he looked at you, his eyes glowing in the dim light, made your heart flutter.

His thumb traced your lower lip, his gaze locked onto yours as he whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me… how you make me feel.” His hand continued its gentle, rhythmic strokes through your hair, as if trying to soothe you, even as his words stirred something deep inside.

“I’ve tasted your blood, felt your heartbeat against mine, seen you flushed and vulnerable against me… There’s no going back from this.” Anakin continued, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re mine now… my little human…and I’m yours.”

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and possessive, his hand in your hair tightening just enough to make you gasp against his mouth. The taste of your own blood lingered on his lips, mingling with the taste of him, creating a heady mixture that left you breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his voice was softer, filled with an almost desperate need. “Say you’ll stay with me… let me protect you, hold you. I can’t lose you now.”

Anakin's hands roamed over your body, his touch leaving trails of fire in their wake. His lips followed, tracing the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, his fangs grazing your skin, promising pleasure and pain in equal measure. You arched into his touch, a moan escaping your lips as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your dress, his fingers finding the sensitive bud at the apex of your thighs.

He chuckled, the sound low and seductive, as he felt the dampness that greeted his touch. "So eager," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I haven't even begun to taste you yet."

His fingers stroked you, teasing you, drawing out your pleasure until you were writhing against him, your hips bucking in a desperate attempt to find more of his touch. He obliged, his fingers slipping inside you, filling you, stretching you in the most delicious way.

You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, a silent promise of what was to come. Your hand reached out, grasping him through his pants, feeling the heat of him, the thickness that made your mouth water with anticipation.

He groaned, his hips thrusting into your hand, seeking more of your touch. "You're going to be the death of me," he growled, his voice rough with need.

He pushed you back into the couch, his body covering yours, his weight pressing on your chest deliciously. His hands made quick work of your dress, tearing it away until you were bare before him, your skin flushed and glowing in the dimly lighted room.

His mouth descended on your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple, his fangs grazing the sensitive peak. You cried out, your back arching, your nails digging into his shoulders as he suckled, drawing out your pleasure until you were writhing beneath him.

His hand slid back between your legs, his fingers stroking you, teasing you, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy and then pulling back, leaving you desperate and aching for more.

"Please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you."

He grinned, his eyes glowing with a predatory light. "Patience, my love," he purred, his fingers continuing their torturous caress. "I want to savor every moment of this."

He slid down your body, his lips trailing kisses along your skin, until they reached the juncture of your thighs. His tongue flicked out, parting your folds, and then he was there, his mouth enveloping you, his tongue plunging inside you, eliciting a guttural moan from the back of your throat.

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his hot mouth and sharp fangs sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You gripped the sheets, your back arching, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more of his touch.

He didn't disappoint. His fingers found their way back inside you, his thumb circling your clit, his tongue never relenting in its assault on your most intimate parts. You could feel the orgasm building, coiling tight within you, your body trembling with the intensity of your need.

And then it hit, a wave of pleasure crashing over you, your body convulsing as you cried out his name. He continued to pleasure you, not stopping until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

Finally, he pulled back, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he looked up at you. "Now for the main event," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

He quickly disrobed, his cock springing free, hard and eager, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You couldn't help but lick your lips in anticipation. He positioned himself between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushed into you.

You gasped, the sensation of him filling you completely unlike anything you'd ever experienced. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before he began to thrust, his hips pistoning into yours, his cock stretching you, filling you, driving you wild with pleasure.

He reached up, his hand finding your breast, his fingers toying with your nipple as he continued to fuck you, his rhythm slow but powerful. You met his thrusts, your hips moving in perfect harmony, unholy moans filling the room.

His teeth nipped at your neck, his fangs grazing your skin as he plunged into you, the sensation of his teeth against your flesh adding an element of pain to the pleasure, making it all the more intense.

You could feel yourself spiraling toward another climax, the sensation building within you, your body quivering with need. Anakin seemed to sense this, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his fangs sinking deeper into your flesh.

His hand tightened in your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, as he pulled your head back, exposing your neck even more to his voracious hunger. You cried out, the sensation of his fangs in your skin, the feel of his cock rummaging your gummy walls, the way he held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, all of it pushing you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body convulsing, your pussy clenching around his cock, your cries of pleasure mingling with the pain of his bite. He didn't stop, his thrusts became more frenzied as his hips slammed into yours, his teeth still buried in your neck.

The sight of your release seemed to push him over the edge as well. He growled and his hips bucked, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed, the warm fluid spilling into you, marking you as his own.

He released your neck, his fangs retracting, and collapsed onto you, his body shuddering as he caught his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. « I’m gonna stay here a moment, sweetheart.» he sighed softly, licking the remnants of blood on your neck. His hair were tousled, golden curls tickling your cheek and you buried your face in it. 

After a moment, Anakin gently pulled away, his eyes filled with concern as he looked down at you. "Are you alright, my love?" he asked softly, his voice a soothing rumble that instantly put you at ease. "Can you walk?"

You nodded, a lazy smile spreading across your face as you felt the lingering aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body. "Yes, I think so," you replied, your voice a little breathless. "It was... intense."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. « How about we shower together ? I promise I won’t break the shower curtain again » he smirked at that, his fangs catching the light of the room.

The End…

[onepiecepetalfanfics089]

Enchanted~..

Chapter 1

Yandere! Strawhats + more x witch Fem! Reader 🎀

__________________________________________

Almost every flower has its way to protect itself..some are poisonous if you even dare to touch them in the wrong places at all while others have thorns or just smell so bad that people don’t care about it’s beauty.

These are all ways that beautiful flowers protect themselves..

In a way, you were like a flower. Delicate, graceful and beautiful. You had your thorns though, ways to defend yourself greatly. Your stare could melt someone’s heart yet, if you wanted the opposite to happen to them you could also do the opposite with ease.

When will you be like the flowers in one of your many gardens?

When will you realize that such beauty could cause immense pain to come?

Just at the end of that thought, you heard the sound of a ship docking close to your island.

__________________________________________

You also heard…a group of people?..they sure were loud..there was shouting..but It sounded happy! Wait that wasn’t good was it?..you haven’t had visitors since…well a long time so maybe it was good? You were always taught to NEVER speak to strangers..especially not pirates..you hoped they weren’t pirates!..

As the sound of the people who you assumed had never been on a island before because they were undeniably loud got closer you could feel your heart pounding with a mix of different emotions such as excitement, nervousness and most of all, curiosity. If Mother Eve found out you were taking to strangers you would be a dead girl!

There was just something about these people though..you haven’t even met them and yet feel so..drawn to them. It was like a string that was tugging you nonstop to a place it knew you weren’t supposed to go to!

Taking a deep breath, you slowly made your way through the forest and to the outside of it where the noise grew louder and louder. Crouching behind a bush you peeked through the sage green leaves that only you knew could make a very good potion to turn someone into a frog, just for good measure!

The first thing you saw made you squint your eyes, there was a boy in a straw hat. He seemed unusually happy with a toothy grin that shined bright than the sun. He wore a velvet colored vest with golden buttons on it and denim shorts with a pair of sandals. He kept jumping around, holding his hat that a red ribbon around it. He seemed so..excited about everything it made you want to smile and laugh along with him. You wondered, what was it like just Jumping in the sand without a care in the world?

“Yeah!! We’ve finally docked on an island!! Can y’a believe it Nami?!”

“Uh yeah I can, the map led us here because I’m the navigator remember?”

A girl with orange hair that reminded you of a beautiful Merigold you saw the other day said with a raised eyebrow, checking a weird looking bracelet that a globe on it and some arrows in it like it was a watch.

“Oi! Sanji!! I see some fruit over there and a bird I think! Let’s eat it!!”

You then saw another man, he had a suit on for some reason, tilting your head you saw that he was smoking a ‘cigarette’..Mother Eve always told you they were extremely horrible for your health. Observing the man even more you noticed his shiny blond hair and his swirly eyebrows that you didn’t know how to feel about.

Wait..what fruit was he talking about?.. you then thought to yourself, eyebrows furrowed. Now shifting your gaze over to the fruit the boy was referring to your eyes widened, that fruit was extremely poisonous and if eaten and could cause immediate death!

Chewing on your bottom lip you gave a soft sigh. Out of all the fruits why did they have to pick that one?..maybe you can just sneak over there and cast a spell to turn it into a safer fruit..yeah!..that’d be fine! They won’t even notice you!

Just be quiet as a mouse..quiet as a-

SNAP

As you were standing up you stepped on a twig!

Oh come on!! Seriously Y/N?!

Immediately the chatter went quiet. Your heart pounded as you felt all eyes on the bush you were currently hiding in.

Looks like hiding in a bush full of sage, twigs and crunchy leaves wasn’t such a good idea after all.. oh boy you were really in for it now weren’t you? A tall, green haired man with three swords and a rather serious expression on his face started to come closer and closer to your hiding spot. He was clutching the hilt of one of his swords and had a skeptical yet serious look on his face, slowly creeping closer…

Thump-thump..

Thump-thump..

Thump-thump..

Thinking fast, you quickly gathered a pile of leaves and plucked a handful of the sage from the bush you were currently hiding in, mixing them together, you uttered the spell you needed and there a frog slowly appeared from the pile you just saw. Before the frog could even begin to do a ‘ribbit’ or hop you threw it out of the bushes and in front of everyone, making it seem like the frog that was just born into this world not even five minutes ago, was hiding in the bushes, not you.

There was a moment of silence, looking around to see their reactions you held your breath. They all then smiled and laughed, some letting out a chuckle while the green haired swordsman just let out a sigh, his eyes fluttering closed faintly before he smirked and turned around to go back to his friends.

Just then you spotted something large behind them. Was that a..ship?..you’ve only seen ships in pictures and books. You marveled at the size and the cute lamb in front. The skull with the straw hat on the flag was even cute too-

Wait!

Something then clicked in your brain.

A ship with a skull…a jolly roger…

Pirates! They were pirates..pirates were dangerous..you sighed softly and then stared at the boy with the straw hat.

His smile..his laugh..he looked safe..! A little dumb but safe..

Tapping your chin you began to ponder..it wouldn’t hurt to just maybe ‘accidentally’ run into them..maybe even introduce yourself and get some answers..that wouldn’t hurt at all!..right?

Silently giggling to yourself you slowly slipped away from your hiding place and summoned a beautiful vine to pull you up to the trees.

.

.

.

.

.

Your hair flowed majestically as you swing vines and tree’s like the earth was your very own. Summoning then to lend you help and then leaving them there to grow with others.

So many mix of emotions were brewing up inside of you like whenever you made a sacred potion..excitement, nerves but most of all you felt..uneasy..? From the moment you saw the group of visitors you just felt as if there was something..off about their presence.

Maybe it was just you being paranoid..yeah!

What harm could they really do how bad could this honestly be?

Thoughts were racing through your mind but just as you were about to snap out of it and focus, your body came to a complete halt.

Large, wide eyes stared back into your own. The pair blinked multiple times and so did yours, after a few minutes your cheeks began to flush in embarrassment, trying to leave. As soon as you took one step back though, you felt a hand in your ankle to pull you back. Did it just…stretch to get to your ankle?! You’d never seen anything like THIS before..

“Hey! Where ya goin’?!”

The voice who you recognized to be the one you saw earlier, with the straw hat said, tilting his head and giving a confused frown while tilting his head a bit.

You had to admit that he was kind of cute in a way..black hair, tan skin, puppy dog eyes and that smile that drawled you in like poison..it screamed optimism,adventure…just enjoying life. Something you utterly craved.

Lips parting slightly, you cleared your throat to talk with some bit of confidence you could muster up.

“Oh uhm..nowhere. Who are you people? What are you doing on this island?” You then asked him, becoming somewhat serious as thorns surrounded where you stood to show him that you would not let him hurt this place, the place you held dear.

Surprisingly his eyes sparkled by your power, his jaw seem to drop in amazement as he looked around frantically with a grin. “Woah!! How’d you do that?!”

You felt shocked, was this boy, the one who could stretch his body or even do more for all you know, complimenting you on your power?! His eyes stared into yours again, he was grinning and it seemed like his eyes were clouded with some peculiar type of emotion..you just didn’t know what yet.

Maybe it was interest? Curiosity? It felt like a guessing game. For some reason you desperately wanted to know what was going on in this boys head..what was he thinking about exactly?

Tilting your head you then spoke in a soft voice “..you’re not here to harm or destroy this place are you?..” you asked while stepping another step closer, you expected him to take a step back for personal space, but he stayed where he was. hat grin never getting wiped off of his face.

“Nah! This place is cool!!”

He said with a shrug, talking in a soft voice too. One that reassured you he was safe. These people..were safe..

Right..?

You were now walking with this boy they called ‘luffy’ in the forest to go meet the others, he seemed to warm up to you quickly, blabbering on about his crew and how they were very grateful to dock on an island after ‘sooo long!’

The wind then suddenly blew and he put his hand instinctively on his hat to hold it down from blowing away. Tilting your head you gave a smile while staring up at him in curiosity.

“Why is that hat so important to you?”

“Someone very important gave it to me!” He replied before you could even blink. Now turning to you, you could feel him stare deeply into your eyes again.

“What’s your name anyway?” He then asked with his grin remaining. Why was he smiling so much..? You wondered. Wait no, how could he smile so much, he just met you! Was he already smitten?!

“Y/N..! The reason why I asked you on your motives was because I’ve lived here my whole life you know..” shrugging, you grew a plant that was actually safe to eat this time and handed it to him. He most gladly took it.

With a mouthful he happily said, “hey thanks!!”

You smiled and thought for a moment, just like he did a moment ago, you halted walking for a minute to turn to him.

“Do you want to see something cool..Luffy..?”

He blinked and finished his fruit quickly, grinning even bigger now.

“Yeah sure!!”

…

Adrenaline rushed through you as you flew through the air, hearing you luffy behind you cheer just as loud as you did. Living on an island for most of your life had its perks you know, it allowed your imagination to run wild!

Which was why you and luffy here were currently flying through the air above the trees on a dragon you made completely out of dry leaves, sage and Cat’s Claw! You held onto the dragons horns while it operated like a roller coaster and flew gracefully like the wind.

Though, luffy’s hands slowly creeping up to your hips and holding onto them almost possessively caught your attention, you just played it off though, grinning up at him. It was probably something normal anyway!..

Finally, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist completely and jump off of the dragon! Was this boy mad?!

“GUM-GUM: BALLOON!!!!” He shouted in the air as his body increased two times its size to give you a safe landing, to say you were absolutely shocked was definitely an understatement..he was just as lively as you thought!!

He laughed as your hair fell in your face and got in the way of seeing properly, you couldn’t help but grin and laugh with him as you adjusted your hair so it wasn’t sticking up like you just got struck by lightning.

“That dragon was amazing!!” He said cheerfully,returning back to his regular form and helping you up. “That landing was amazing!!” You said with a soft giggle.

“Um..Luffy who is this..?” A voice then asked, turning your head, you saw it was the girl with the orange hair, Nami if you remember correctly.

Blinking a few times, you noticed that every last one of his crew members were staring at you with their interest clearly piqued. Smiling widely at them, you introduced yourself just as you would’ve done in your original plan.

“My name is Y/N! I have lived on this island for years..and I’m a witch who’s just looking for adventure!” You would say while giving a bow with another small laugh. Just from that little fun ride you had, it had gotten you so shook up and full of energy!

Luffy unexpectedly, gave you a pat on the back which you smiled at. “Isn’t she great?! Hey maybe we can fly three dragons next time!! And their all rainbow!”

“Oooh!!”

A beautiful woman with black hair and the perfect tan let out a chuckle while putting her face in her feminine hand. “They get along quite well dont they?” She said, her voice smoother than chocolate. Now looking at the two women of the crew you’d never seen such beauty! But that little wholesome moment wouldn’t last long as you felt someone gently take your hand.

“Huh?” You Said while blinking and looking down to see who or what just took your hand.

“Oh Mademoiselle~! Your beauty is simply too much! Mother Nature surely has blessed me today for letting me see such an angel! I’m ready to live on this island for you my love! Just to see you every morning~!!!”

The man with the cigarette said in a high pitched voice, he was crouched down on one knee with hearts literally for eyes! your eyes widened quite a bit as you were definitely not expecting that seeing how he acted with Luffy when you first saw him, his blond hair that shined bright than the sun was still so captivating to you..not to mention he was rather handsome…

Should you charm him back?..it was only polite right?..

“Oh my how dashing..” you started while taking his hand with your free one, crouching down on knee just like he did.

“This island barely gets visitors at all but when we do..they really aren’t as handsome as you..if you were stuck by my side I would feel no need to search for any adventure because I’d have you~!” You said, giving him a wink and growing a rose out of if the ground, handing it to him.

Before his eyes even could take notice of it however his nose started to bleed…a lot! So much that it threw him back physically, making him land on his back and gaze up at the sky in shock.

“S-She..she..”

He stuttered out as you smiled, suddenly everyone burst into laughter and you couldn’t help but grin widely.

Yeah these people were definitely safe!! You were sure of it…

For the next half hour, you spent it with the visitors who came by your island. They seemed to like you very much so because they couldn’t keep their eyes off you! Robin was asking so many questions about the plants and herbs you used here, and you answered gladly! Sanji on the other hand kept flirting with you and charming you the best he could, making you smoothies from the fruit nearby (that were completely safe of course.)

Luffy was also bombarding you with questions but about your powers and spells, he told everyone about the dragon you made and you showed them your magic of course with a smile. You even turned Luffy into a mouse for fun! The boy with a long nose named usopp enjoyed that one the most he just couldn’t stop laughing about it!

You also told them stories about your encounters in the island and how you became the witch you are today, of course you had to mention Mother Eve when you were telling that one.

“She’s kind of the reason I haven’t set out yet..she keeps saying that ‘I’m not ready’ but I’m as ready as can be am I not?” You laughed softly with a sigh, putting a flower crown you made on the little reindeer’s, Choppers head.

The crew nodded their heads at you, they seemed to go a bit quiet like they were pondering something greatly..exchanging looks a few times..that just be a pirate thing right?..

Right?

It was now finally sun down and the sound of the fire the green haired swordsman known as ‘zoro’ (who could be a bit intimidating sometimes..)made illuminated everyone’s faces, casting a beautiful orange light in the front, and darkness in the back.

Letting out a soft sigh you closed your eyes,making a nice flower bed for you rest on while gazing up at the stars. Then all of a sudden..

“Hey Y/N?..”

Luffy’s voice caught your attention. You turned your head over to him with a smile.

“Yeah?”

With everyone now looking at you, they all had a somewhat big smile on their face. Zoro though stared at you rather intently..

That grin that could light up a room appeared again as luffy got closer to you placing his hat in your face rather abruptly, you took it and put it on your head with a confused expression.

“Join my crew!!!” He said loudly, staring into your eyes which made you feel there was only one answer optional…

To Be Continued~…

Omg this took so long!! That’s why I’m posting this late lol- but omg I’m so excited for this story!!!! I love it already and I hope you guys do too!! Please let me know! I’m so excited for her to meet new characters and show off her moves even more! I hope you guys are excited too! I don’t wanna make this too long because I’ve been writing nothing but announcements lately, so without further a do I have nothing else to say..for now! Until next time my lovely petals!!❤️❤️💕🌸

[moonrisecoeur]

romance — leon kennedy

author’s note: i am sick this is actually a really cute fic. although i might be a lil mentally ill. this fic is for @ovaryacted so i hope u like it nic :3 feeling re6 leon vibes hehe !!

wc: 4.7k

content: detective leon x psycho reader, fem!reader (reader wears a dress and is referred to femininely), no d/s dynamics but reader is slightly more in control, lots of pet names (sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, my girl, sweetheart, sweetie, pretty wife), talks of marriage, unprotected sex, blood as lube. reader is like actually insane but leon loves her.

warning: this fic is dark content, containing moderate amounts of blood and gore depictions, along with discussions of murder, torture, bodies, weapons, etc. please read with caution and take care of yourself.

—

notes:

"i'd love to see you in a beautiful dress," he says softly. 

“i would look pretty just for you.”

leon chuckles and squeezes your hand again, it's funny how he can go from fearing you to becoming utterly enamored with you in a matter of moments.

"i have no doubts about that, sweetheart," he replies, "now come here."

—

“what… have you done now, princess?” he stumbles, because when you said you look good in red, he clumsily thought you meant you were going to wear a red dress for him. 

“the guy was asking for it, lee,” you tell him, taking a step closer to reach out to him, but he steps back, “are you… afraid of me?”

“kinda. i also just… i don’t want you to get blood on my work clothes,” his smile is always gentle towards you. there’s no reality where detective kennedy can get mad at you, though. he adores you too greatly.

your eyes drop from focusing on his soft, warm gaze, to trailing down his body. he really does make himself pretty for you. black blazer and black dress pants on top of a red wine button down, top two buttons left unbuttoned because obviously the s in leon s. kennedy stands for slut. or maybe selfless? sensitive? submissive? who knows?

either way, you have the eyes of a predator. he knows you know that, yet you make no attempt to ease his mind, to tell him, ‘oh, it’s alright baby. i would never hurt you’ because neither of you are sure if that’s true. 

“blood on your clothes, huh..?” you murmur, almost distantly, like your mind was somewhere else.

“we, uh, have dinner reservations, baby. why don’t you get cleaned up and we can go? i don’t think… the restaurant would appreciate blood all over their chairs and tables,” he looks away, and then back to you. your eyes are hungry, but he tries to keep you focused, “baby, you got rid of the body, right?”

“well.. not necessarily… i wanted to dismember him myself,” you pout, like you were asking for something a lot less gruesome. like, ‘leon, could we please get ice cream after dinner?’ but instead you were asking something a little bit more on brand for you. he doesn’t even know why he’s surprised.

“just… okay, whatever. just c’mere and kiss me, sweetie,” he welcomes you into his arms again, refusing to even pay any mind to the viscous scarlet liquid that saturates his velvet suit, your hand staining his neck and you reach to rest it on the back of his neck. he stopped caring about the mess and wrapped his arms around your waist.

you kiss him feverishly, stained hands and tainted souls clashing together. leon was rotten before you met him, corrupted and dark. you feel a bit more comfortable with the fact that you have not ruined him. there was nothing good about him to ruin. he lies, fabricates and destroys evidence, forces confessions, truly a brutal guy. 

and yet, for the pretty thing that clutches onto him, only feeling truly happy in his arms, he is comfort. he’s safety and goodness. he is everything that’s right in her world. your world.

you are awful. but so is leon. that is why he loves you so dearly. if people like you both are even capable of such emotions.

your dress is carmine and if leon didn’t know any better, he’d think you were a victim of a heinous crime, but he does know better. and he knows there is not a single scratch or bruise on you.

leon holds you close to him, hands wrapped around your waist, giving you his complete soul, enjoying the warmth of your embrace and the familiar feel of your lips pressed against his. he squeezes you tightly and runs his hands along your hips, his touch smooth and gentle. 

leon is your complete opposite. your touch is forceful and aggressive, but leon is gentle. all your body knows is his softness. you are erratic and violent, but leon is composed. 

as you continue kissing him, leon's breath becomes heavier and his heart beats faster. he pulls away for a moment, panting gently as an expression of pure joy and relief crosses his face. leon leans down again, this time capturing your chin between his fingers as he looks into your eyes, soaking in the sight of you.

“you… are beautiful,” his voice echoes, low and full of an adoration even leon can’t wrap his head around. scarlet covers your figure, and all he can see is utter beauty. 

“you got anywhere to be, detective kennedy?” you smile as you address him professionally, but it’s only teasing. your hand is moving to help him shrug off his suit coat and he thinks he might be here a bit longer than he thought. you throw it onto the table.when your hand starts moving to help him take off his jacket, his eyebrow raises in interest, and his eyes follow the movement of your hand until it touches his shoulder and starts undoing the buttons.

"no, nowhere in particular," he says casually, watching his coat get thrown to the side. you’re careless. that is expensive velvet, and your red hands definitely just ruined it. it’s alright he muses, he’ll just replace it. 

the coat, he clarifies to himself. he’ll replace the coat. not this memory with you. 

"excellent," you tell him, crimson fingers tangling into his blonde hair, “i wasn’t going to let you leave anyway.”

"i figured as much," he chuckles playfully, enjoying the feeling of your fingers digging into his scalp, massaging the tension away. leon's body relaxes against yours, savoring the feel of you pressed against him. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer.

"i've been working way too hard today," he sighs, and he sees the soft pout that comes to your face. it’s gotta be the cutest thing he’d ever seen, "don’t look at me like that, baby. i just didn't get much of a chance to relax. it’s my job, princess.” leon squeezes you tightly against him, the warmth from his body radiating against yours.

“how does your brain work for that long?” you shake your head, “i feel like i would start losing it with how long of days you work. you shouldn’t have to work so hard, lee.”

"i swear, i was staring at the same case file for like, ten hours straight," he sighs. "i can't look at those numbers and words anymore."

"i bet," you mumble, noticing the way the blood is drying up in his hair and on both of your clothes and skin, "you look like you're the murderer now," you chuckle, "i think i'm going to have to lock you up."

leon lets out a laugh, looking down at himself and noticing the dried blood caking up in his hair and on his suit, "i bet i do," he chuckles, "i look like i've just come from a crime scene."

leon looks up at you, his eyes shining mischievously. "then i guess you'll have to arrest me," he teases, "do you have the handcuffs ready?"

you laugh, mostly because you know he’s making shitty jokes, but also because you might enjoy restraining him a little too much, “oh yeah, except the jail cell is my bedroom.”

"well, you're the officer who has to bring me in," he says with a smirk, "i don't think i'll be resisting arrest too much."

“oh, shut up, dork. just kiss me,” you groan to him, pulling him in by the hips. his white button up dress shirt being stained by your red hands feels indicative of what you’ve done to leon. it’s not like he’s perfectly pristine, he’s been a corrupt cop for years, but… you have only made him worse.

it's as if he's addicted to the touch and affection of your hands, his body becoming hot with desire. he enjoys the way you press against him, your red hands staining his shirt and staining his soul. your fingers dig into his hips forcefully as you pull him in close to you, your tainted hands staining his clothes as you do so. you've definitely made him even more corrupt than he was before you came into the picture, and he's loving every second of it.

you pull away to whisper to him, in his ear, wet blood covering his skin and his clothes, "i love you."

now, he’s known for a long time that you love him, even if that love is twisted and tainted. as blood drips down the both of you, he wraps his arms around you more tightly, burying his face in your neck as he whispers into your ear.

"i love you too, princess,”  he whispers back, not caring about the dried blood coating you both, "also, wait, where is your victim? did anyone see you? please tell me you were careful, baby."

"i destroyed his body parts already, don't worry. no one saw me."

"thank god.. or should i say thank you?" leon replies with a cheeky grin. to him, you are god. you are a religion. you are a deity who visits him in his dreams and treats him like her beloved human pet. he looks at you for a moment, his eyes trailing over your body, the dried blood of your previous victims making you look even more beautiful to him. god, you are so fucking pretty to him.

"though, i do need your help destroying evidence.." your fingers draw sweet little hearts onto his back once you throw his dress shirt off entirely, but he's certain your bloody hearts left literal, physical drawings on his skin. you are so fucking deranged and he adores you.

"i can help you with anything," he murmurs, leaning his head down to plant kiss after kiss on your neck, “that’s what i’m here for, baby.”

every trace of your blood-stained heart has been embedded and melded into his skin, like a stain that can never be washed out with bleach. he loves his psycho princess.

"but i don't want to think about that right now," you lean your head on his shoulder, "i just wanna be here with you.."

leon nods, enjoying the feeling of your head pressed onto him, the warmth from your body radiating gently, "i know, i know, baby," he says softly, "no worrying right now, just you and i."

after a moment of peace and calm, you perk your head up suddenly, a contemplative look on his face, "do you think... will i ever go to prison?"

leon chuckles, shaking his head as he continues stroking your hair, "no, you won't," he replies confidently, "not as long as i'm around, and i'm not going anywhere. i'll always keep you safe and make sure you're never caught."

leon feels the weight of your worries melt away from you. he enjoys being the one to calm you, tame you in a way. you are a monster, but with him, you’re his sweet girl with her.. mildly disturbing hobbies.

"you’ll be okay," he says gently, "i mean, if anyone does find evidence pointing to you, i'll get rid of it before it can even be used. i'm not going to let anyone come between us.”

“yeah?”

“you’re stuck with me forever, princess. i’ll make sure you never spend even one night in a jail cell. only the most comfortable living arrangements for my baby.”

you chuckle, pressing sweet kisses to his neck, “you’re the one that’s stuck with me. who knows? maybe my thirst for blood will include you some day.”

leon laughs, his body trembling slightly at your sweet kisses against his neck, he doesn't even want to think about the possibility of you deciding to kill him one day, but he also knows that it's not an impossibility. he swallows the lump in his throat and decides it's better to just push that thought away for now.

the worst part is… he knows you’d enjoy it. you’d watch the light slowly leave his eyes with glee. makes him nauseous.

"maybe," he says with a teasing tone, but it’s impossible to miss how his voice shakes, "but i'm more valuable to you alive, sweetheart."

“i know, i know.” you giggle, hands digging into the waistband of his fancy velvet slacks, “i just like playing with you. you get so nervous.. it’s cute.”

leon grins in return, but a hint of a nervous chuckle escapes his lips when he feels you start unbuttoning his pants.

he feels his heart rate start to pick up, both from anticipation and a little bit of anxiety, “you like playing with me huh…” he says in a lower, somewhat panting voice, “don’t play with your food, baby. do what you gotta do.”

you smirk, pushing him down onto his office chair, the same one you bought him a couple months ago when he was complaining about his old one. you sit yourself down on his lap, hands resting around the back of his neck, caressing him so sweetly. god, if leon closed his eyes, he could pretend this was normal and you were normal and you were both just two young lovers that adored each other. 

his hands grasp your waist and keep you close, as he's afraid you'll leave him. you can't leave him now. not after all he's done for you, to protect you, to save you from yourself. he's ruined himself for you, he's destroyed evidence and burned bodies and lied and lied and lied for you. you can't leave him now.

his psychopath. his monster. his sweet lover. him. you belong to him. 

he doesn't understand why you're so gentle with him, but you are and he's grateful, so he doesn't push the subject. when your hands pull at the waistband of his boxers, his eyes become soft and glassy and he rests his head back against the chair. you may do what you please with him at this point.

leon lets out a contented sigh as he relaxes back into the chair, his head leaning against the backrest as he gazes up at you. you are… breathtaking. a beautiful dove covered in her victim’s crimson blood.

your touch is soft and delicate, much different from the usual roughness that you've had with your previous victims. yet he can't complain that you're choosing to be so gentle with him, letting him keep this illusion of you being a normal person, just for a moment.

"can i have you, lee? right here, right now?"

it's almost amusing how normal that question sounds to him. after all this time, after everything he's done for you, after all the murders he's covered up for you, the bodies he's burned and the evidence he's destroyed... it almost makes him chuckle to hear that sentence. it’s remarkable, honestly. you’re vicious and violent and cruel… and you’re asking for consent? how adorable.

"of course," he says softly, his tone slightly pleading and desperate, "please. take me, baby... i'm yours."

you smile sweetly, though the sweetness is undercut by the blood on your face. he would almost assume you're possessed by something demonic if he didn't already know you were evil to begin with, "you make me so happy, baby." you muse gently, "you keep me safe, protect me when i mess up... i'm gonna be your perfect little wife someday."

leon chuckles softly at your words, but there's a part of him that's a little bit terrified. in his mind, he knows that this isn't the beginning of some fairytale romance, and that your intentions aren't quite pure, but he chooses to ignore those thoughts. he's already fallen down such a dark path because of your influence, so what's stopping him from falling a little bit deeper and going all the way down into this fucking madness with you?

"i'll protect you from everything," he replies, his fingers gripping tightly around yours, "nothing will ever hurt you again, my sweet wife. i’ll keep you safe and happy, always.”

"we should get married in a big, beautiful chapel. i don't need a lot of people there, i just want to be there with you."

leon grins, "you'd be happy with just a small wedding?" he asks with a hint of surprise in his voice, "i thought you'd want something big and extravagant to show off to everyone."

“all i need is a pretty dress and you,” you whisper to him.

leon chuckles, brushing your hair out of your face with his hand, his fingers slightly trembling. a part of him can't help but wonder how this would all end: would it actually end happily? with you two walking down the aisle to an altar, exchanging vows? or would it end up with his body buried deep in the woods?

he forces himself to ignore those thoughts, for now he should stay focused on the moment. you look at him so sweetly, so earnestly, so he decides to trust your intentions with him for now.

"i'd love to see you in a beautiful dress," he says softly. 

“i would look pretty just for you.”

leon chuckles and squeezes your hand again, it's funny how he can go from fearing you to becoming utterly enamored with you in a matter of moments.

"i have no doubts about that, sweetheart," he replies, "now come here."

you smile as you lean in to kiss him again, hands finally resuming their movements to get into his underwear.

leon lets out a soft groan, his muscles tensing as he feels your hands slip through the fabric of his underwear, pulling out his cock for you to play with, or so he assumes you’ll do. you play with it like it’s a toy, something you can just have fun messing with while he sleeps or before you fuck him. he uses the verbage of ‘you fucking him’ because this is in no way him fucking you… even if it’s his dick. at some point that dick attached to his pelvis became yours.. 

he wraps his arms tightly around your waist as you begin to caress him. he's just so vulnerable to you, he's yours in every aspect of the word, physically and emotionally. yours, yours, yours.

"i'll be gentle, i promise. i'm just gonna stroke your cock, nice and slow.." you murmur. your touch is warm but teasing, and when you notice the tension in his body, you can't help but giggle, "i can't go too quickly just yet.. can't make you feel too much too soon."

leon chuckles softly, a part of him enjoying this teasing routine. he knows that eventually you'll give him what he wants, so he doesn’t mind waiting. whatever his girl wants, she gets.

"i know" he says panting slightly, "just take your time, princess..."

it's just so hard not to adore him, so malleable and soft, you could mold him into anything you want.

leon's eyes are starting to get hazy, his breath hitching in his throat and his body trembling. your touch is so delicate yet so powerful, it's making his entire body quiver. he’s not even on the edge but he feels like he is. both of your hands jerk him off so slow and sensual, and he knows the only reason they’re moving so smoothing is because your hands still have wet blood on them… which means you’re practically using that guy’s blood as lube and… this is so fucked up. you are so fucked up. you are awful and he can’t wait to make you his wife.

leon’s not necessarily the most submissive man alive, but he does listen well and you always get what you want, so take that as you will. he's always been so easy to mold into whatever you want him to be. he's followed along like a loyal dog, doing everything you ask of him. he's done such despicable things in your name, knowing that at the end of the day, you'll love him enough to keep him by your side.

he feels your thumb massaging his tip and he suppresses a nervous whimper, eyes fluttering closed as he takes in the feeling of your touch. you’re too much of a tease, but leon is patient.

“promise that you’ll always stay with me, lee. promise that you’ll never leave,” you whisper. he doesn’t know why you expect such a deep answer from him when his brain is becoming more and more mushy by the second.

“i promise," he whispers back, still panting slightly from pleasure. “i'm never going to leave you. i'll stay by your side for as long as we're alive. i'll never stop protecting you, loving you"

“i will sink my claws into you and never let you leave,” you growl.

he leans his head back against the chair again, a smile creeping on his lips as he lets out a shuddering breath. "i'm all yours, princess, and i have no desire to be anyone else's."

just as he starts to get close to the edge, riding the fine line of pleasure, you pull your hands away from him. you feel bad for denying him, but you're only doing it so you both can finish together. leon lets out a soft shiver as you tug your hands away, your teasing just making him more and more desperate.

he lets out a tense, groaning sigh as you pull your hands away, a small whimper escaping his lips as you did so. he's so close, but you're not quite ready to let him cum yet.

leon tries his best not to show his disappointment, the build up has been intense and it's frustrating to feel himself denied, but he knows you love it. you love making him desperate, making him beg.

he concedes: this is what you like, so it’s what he likes. 

but his disappointment is quickly brushed away as you get up off of him to take off your beautiful bloody dress, and your undergarments too. for all of the blood on your face, neck, chest, and arms, the rest of you is mostly untouched, and he finds the difference rather amusing. your stomach and thighs look so soft and innocent.

he gazes at you lustfully as you remove your clothes, his breath catching in his throat as he stares at your naked body. he can’t think, can’t breathe, his eyes going everywhere they’re not supposed to. he can only try so hard to be a gentleman. 

"you.. are going to make me your wife," you say, voice carrying an air of certainty. you are not suggesting. you are telling him what's going to happen, and he will obviously obey, “you’ll buy me a pretty ring. nothing expensive, don’t waste your money on something stupid like a diamond. and you’ll take me on a beautiful honeymoon, and we’ll spend every moment of those days together just fucking like rabbits. understood?”

marriage was never something he considered until you called yourself his ‘pretty little wife’ to be honest, but with the way you're demanding it now... it's something he'd easily give in to, "okay" he finally manages to whisper back, "anything for my beautiful wife."

you smile gently, settling back onto his lap, pussy aching for the cock in front of you, so desperate to fill you up, “you ready, baby?” you ask.

leon nods, his eyes fluttering briefly at your words, “yeah, i'm ready," he mumbles, his breath already short and his heart beating so hard he's surprised that you can't hear it.

you slide him inside, giving yourself a moment to adjust. leon can't help but find the slight discomfort in your face cute.

you moan gently, resting your hands on his shoulders, "o-oh, ah..."

he can hear every soft sound and breath that escapes your lips as you begin to move, and he can't help but let out a soft groan as well. his hands grip tightly around you, tightening every time you moan or gasp.

leon holds onto you for dear life, he knows he's already so close to finishing, he could really blow any second, but the longer this goes, the longer this moment lasts, the more intense it gets. you’re going to kill him one of these days. 

"l-lee.." you gasp, hips rocking back and forth, almost circular motions.

"oh god.. baby..." he lets out a tense moan as you ride him, movements gentle but somehow still so overwhelming.  his fingertips dig into your shoulders as he tries to keep himself restrained, but he's at the very edge of his control.

every movement sends a jolt through his body, his muscles flexing and releasing with everything he's got to keep himself from finishing before you.

“leon…” you groan again, and he never really realizes the effect he has on you until your body is trembling as you ride his cock. your voice isn’t quite begging, but he almost hears it like that. it sounds like a love confession wrapped up in his name. he doesn’t see it until all of your defenses are down, but you love him so helplessly that it must be scary. 

god, he wants to hold you in his arms forever and never let you go. protect his serial killer for the rest of her days.

he lets out another tense, breathy moan as you start to move even faster, you're pushing him to the limit. every sensation that he feels is so intense, he can hardly handle it, it takes every ounce of self-discipline in his body to keep himself from finishing early, but that’s what you get for edging him right before. you put him at a huge disadvantage.

“wait for me..” you whisper, “wanna cum with you..”

he nods his head, his eyes squeezed shut as a trembling breath escapes from his lips. he's trying his hardest to wait for you to finish, the urges and sensations within him are overwhelming and he feels as though he might explode at any moment.

and he does unfortunately, just a moment early, but it kick-starts your orgasm so for the most part, you’re both gasping and moaning and breathing fast and shaky and helpless together, hands grasping at any skin they can reach as you’re pulled ever closer to him. he sticks his head into the crook of your neck as your pretty pussy squeezes around him. he feels breathless and helpless, holding you like he’d die without you. he feels your heavy breath and your hands tightly gripping him, you must be completely gone, orgasm hitting you in waves that squeeze every drop of cum out of him.

you’re his, he realizes. completely, utterly his. you need him. you can’t go on without leon and there is nothing more pleasing than being your lifeline. your face makes that cute little pout, dried bloody fingers making his shoulders red, but this time it might just be his blood. your nails are digging into him, but he can’t blame you. you’re too lost in pleasure to realize what you’re doing.

once you both start to slow and calm down, breathing returning to a more normal pace, you lean down to rest your head on his chest. 

after a moment, you ask him, “are you really gonna marry me?”

“mhm,” he hums, fingers brushing against your head, licking his thumb to try and rub off the dried blood on your forehead, “i'll get you a ring and get down on one knee and everything.”

“what will our wedding be like?”

“whatever you want, princess,” he closes his eyes, “i don't have a single care in the world about what flowers you pick or if you want to invite people or if you just want it to be us two and an officiant in the empty wedding chapel. i just want to call you my wife. my sweet, pretty wife. my girl. my only love.”

you giggle, nuzzling closer into his chest, “detective kennedy. my husband,” you grin cutely, “my leon. mine.”

burgundy drips from his fingertips as he brushes them against your cheek, “yours.”

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Long Way Down: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (3) Following Loki's indecent proposal, you get yourself into a treacherous situation. Or maybe two. Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut references. Ex-Loki. Mild peril. Mild angst. Pining. Oh god, the pining. (w/c 4.6k) Recommended Folklore Track: This Is Me Trying

At around five AM, you had accepted that two hours was the maximum amount of sleep that fate had intended for you that night.

The sight of Loki draped across your doorway greeted you every time you closed your eyes.

The moon-slicked skin which begged to be grasped so tightly it bruised, if only for a short time. Those sharp angles in his jawline which fitted so perfectly between your legs. No.

Slipping out of bed, you manoeuvred on your clothes. Natasha would be proud, you thought, grabbing your gloves. Sufficiently bundled, you began the descent down the murky darkness. Of ten stairs, miraculously only four creaked. You paused after every one, listening for a stir from one of the bedrooms. But none came. Since you had slammed the door on Loki, your mind had been a beehive. You had lain there, trying not to move, trying to sleep, trying to think about anything but him. But his velvet voiced temptations and audacity wound around your thoughts like the cottage’s ivy. Wilting like a woman ravaged by thirst with a river rushing on the other side of that traitorous wall.

You hastily scribbled a note in the kitchen, grabbed the spare key and a small rucksack from the hallway hooks. Crisp cold hit like a slap as you opened the door and slipped through. The latch clicked closed.

It sounded like freedom.

A wide circle from the flashlight led your way, noting familiar moss-covered fenceposts and scattered stone path. You took a right at the boundary, seeing the milky promise of a red sunrise ghosting over the mountain. It would be a three hour round-trip to the top of Blencathra, you reckoned. Back in time for breakfast. As you walked, weak sunlight began to crawl the hedgerows. Frosted orange leaves underfoot became wetter. Like cornflakes, you mused, left too long in milk.

You’d had the same observation last autumn when Loki had walked beside you through Central Park, his gloved hand in yours. He’d interrupted with a familiar elaborate description of the palatial breakfasts he’d been served on Asgard. One you’d heard a hundred times before. ‘Every day, mountains of succulent fruit from the god-tree; warm date loaves and bread so glossy it reflected the very sun-” ‘-with the almond glaze.’ you’d muttered knowingly, the implication clear. His grin had widened obliviously.

‘With the almond glaze. Much superior to the cereals so favoured in this realm. I don’t know why humanity puts up with such trash, no wonder you’re all so...someone should do something.’

Loki was a lot of things. He was wild, and powerful; passionate and imposing. He was fiercely loving with kindness that ran as a hot spring runs beneath unforgiving glaciers. When he wanted it to.

His adoration was intoxicating, addicting in a way you had never experienced. When he saw you, he saw only you. Like no other creature existed. The haze had filled you like opium, drunk to all the condescending commentary that chipped at the exterior until it cracked.

And when it cracked, it shattered.

Memories of his dark curls sprawled across your pillow haunted you, the feel of silken strands cutting into your fingertip as you twirled it. He had never been good at keeping to his side of the bed. The words that he whispered when the world wasn’t watching, meant only for you. It seemed like a dream now. And maybe it was.

Perhaps it always had been.

The warmth in his eyes as his thumb caressed your jawline still smouldered as hopeful embers in the depths of your heart. They longed for him, biding their time like jackals in shadows to drag you back to his arms.

And wanting him, that hadn’t left. You doubted it ever would. Loving Loki was a high. And it was a long way down.

If only he could just act like a normal human being, you thought as you drew the wind-breaker further up your throat. And there, you laughed bitterly to yourself in the eerie quiet, is the problem.

It wasn’t his fault, not really. Or was it? You could never tell. And that doubt ate away at you like mice at the skirting boards.

The cold distance between you had been necessary. Self-preservation. And besides occasionally missing the mischief you created together, you doubted he thought of you much at all. The world was full of fawning mortals, after all. He never tired of pointing that out. You certainly doubted he lacked for company.

The thought made you feel queasy. ‘Love’, he’d once mused, ‘is different for a god. We don’t love as you humans do.’

He had paused, snapping his book closed as you lay in his lap before planting a placatory kiss on your nose.

‘You wouldn’t understand’, he’d murmured. And despite your coaxing, that had been the end of it.

It was for the best. That’s what you told yourself when that twisting heartache reared in the dead of night.

But still, you wished you’d had one last kiss, even if you’d known that’s what it was. You looked up at the moon, peeling from the sky and disappearing beneath early-morning mist as you walked briskly towards the mountain’s craggy steep. One last kiss before the lights went out.

As soon as the regrettable words had left Loki’s lips, he knew he’d fucked up. The door-slam was loud. Very loud. And he couldn’t go back to his room, not in his condition. Especially under the circumstances. In the darkness he had picked his way downstairs, cat-like, and had an angry wank in the bathroom. It was perfunctory and mostly silent. And Loki cursed his blasted impatience with every rough tug of his hand. Feeling raw, but more clear-headed, he sat in the living room a while. Moonlight threw a milky hue against the furniture. The carpet almost looked clean under its forgiving sheen. It may have been mice, but he was sure that he could hear the hushed, girlish chatter of his brother and Rogers upstairs, their theories abounding. With growing horror, Loki realised that his brother had been right about not one, but two things that night.

First, that the demise of you and he’s relationship was indeed his doing. The look in your eyes as he presented himself like a charmless commoner had made that abundantly clear. And secondly, the repugnant reclining chair on which he sat was indeed, very comfortable. Thankful at least for the latter, Loki fished down the side for a blanket he’d seen earlier. He sniffed it suspiciously, before throwing it to drape down over his feet. Something about the ragged, scratchy edging made him feel closer to you. Penitent, almost.

Shall I wear sackcloth and ashes, would that suffice?

The thought came intrusively, but behind his subconscious theatrics, there was a morsel of truth. There was something about this place. And there was something about you in it. Perhaps there was something about him too. Something new being birthed, clawing for freedom against scar tissue of old wounds. His brother’s voice played in his mind. ‘Well that could mean all manner of things, brother.’ he’d said. ‘You are insufferable.’ The god closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Perhaps, he thought, I should be thankful for that too. It meant he may be able to fix it. Loki slept soundly in the ugly chair. So soundly, that he didn’t hear the creak of footsteps that came before the first shards of daybreak, nor the soft close of a drawer, nor the click of the latch as you slipped outside into the dark morning alone.

You felt upwards, pads of your fingertips scratching against rough, uneven stone. Searching. The ridge was steeper than you’d anticipated. And you’d been so distracted by winning the imaginary shouting-match going on in your brain, that you had made the most basic error a climber could make. And the most serious.

Your fingers grasped around a jut of rock, feet slipping. Pressing your back against the opposite rockface, you glanced upwards to a large overhang on the ridge that somehow you hadn’t spotted. A chill sliced through your belly as you realised there was no way up. And there was no way down. Your boot slipped against the ledge, making you brace. Fuck fuck fuck. Even Steve wouldn’t make that drop without a couple of broken legs. Or worse. You were stuck. No, not stuck. Fucking crag-fast.

Tears welled in your eyes, a giggle of panicked disbelief threatening low in your middle as you tilted your chin to the sky. The ridge was cut into the mountain, and beyond the overhang, heavy dark clouds were gathering at alarming speed. No one knew you were here. You were fucked.

Closing your eyes, you focused on steadying your heart-rate. ‘Breathe, love’ Loki used to whisper as he stroked your hair. The beat of your heart slowed to a faint thump. The distress widget. Your eyes flew open. Steve had insisted that everyone have an alarm built into their belt, to be worn at all times. It didn’t seem so silly now.

Tentatively, you removed one hand from the rough ridge-face, the crumbling stones beneath your feet making it fly back immediately. You could feel the alarm at the base of your spine, no bigger than a jeans button. If you could just...press it.

Slowly, you began to wiggle your hips back and forth; trying to catch it on something. It caught, a low beep making your heart soar. “ACTIVATE,” you yelled. More stone pellets fell like dried rice. You could only pray Steve had the receiver nearby.

Time passed as a crawl. The sun had risen but somehow, it was still dark. Everything ached. Had it be three minutes or three hours? You were sure the pain in your limbs would be the same either way. How could I be so fucking stupid, you raged silently. At some point, you’d begun to cry.

Had you actually pressed the distress button? Fear fluttered in your stomach. Despite the chill and growing winds, you could feel a uncomfortable damp gathering beneath your clothes. Steve was going to be so pissed when he turned up. If he turned up. More crumbles of rock scattered around your forehead from above. It was followed by a low chuckle. “I can think of easier ways to get me alone, Agent.” Your neck snapped up, not believing your eyes.

Loki sat casually on his haunches atop the overhang, wrists falling between his knees. His thighs were spread, emerald leather looking viscerally luscious against the darkening sky. Dark hair whipped around his brow, his eyes flashing downward as a smile twisted one side of his mouth. “I’m stuck,” you whimpered.

Loki’s smile grew. He tutted. “Not just stuck, Agent. Crag-fast, I believe is the term.” You released an exasperated sigh. “Does it matter?” “Well it was right in Rogers briefing pamphlet. In the hazards section, nestled between blue-green algae and wayward tourists.”

You stared at him, thinking violent thoughts.

“Are you wearing your armour?” you spat. “Your not supposed to be...Loki, just-” Your feet slipped again.

“-for your rescue Madam? Only full regalia will do.” The dazzling smile which accompanied his words made you want to punch him in the face.

“Just fucking get me out of here!”

Loki’s face changed, the mirth in his eyes melting to something akin to concern. “Alright, alright…I am simply attempting to lighten the mood-” he muttered, reaching down. His arm glinted gold, its normal brilliance dulled by the shrouded sun. With all the strength you had, you reached up. You could feel your feet give out below you just as Loki’s hand wrapped around your bicep. With one fell swoop he heaved you upwards, suspended in the air before you fell upon him.

Loki rolled back, gathering you close to his chest. His palm cupped the back of your skull, the other hand safely pressed to the base of your back. You were vaguely aware of the scrape of his boots against the rock as he drew up his legs, the perfect cage of your protection.

“You’re safe now,” he breathed quietly to the sky. His heart was thundering, thuds pulsing through his breastplate. You nodded, silent sobs thrumming your body just as the first drops of rain began to fall.

Thirty minutes later, you and Loki had finally descended the ridge. He had managed to source an easier path with only the most necessary of communication. It had been slow, an ever-present pang in your ankle making you wince when the god’s back was turned. Confident that all your concentration was no longer needed, you decided to ask the question. “Why did you come?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you grimaced. How could you think about them for so long, yet still find the wrong ones? Loki glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m grateful you did-” you grovelled. “I mean, Steve made such a big deal about the whole belt button thing I just wondered why he sent you? Didn’t think he’d miss the chance to give me a lecture the whole way home.” You stared at the back of Loki’s head, swallowing. Rain was falling harder now, rustling patter crinkling against your jacket. “Rogers didn’t send me,” the god said coldly, still walking forwards. “I suspect he’s still tucked up under those abysmally threaded bedsheets.”

You hobbled faster, catching up to him. “What do you mean?” “I was downstairs. The receiver was in the kitchen.” You let your eyes wander over the sprawling landscape. Thirlmere lake lay flat in the distance, a grey mirror to the sky. “Why was it in the kitchen?” you mused absent-mindedly. “Well I don’t know, Agent” Loki spat. “Perhaps Rogers wasn’t anticipating a member of our party sneaking out before dawn on a misguided attempt at independence.” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, stare burning into Loki’s profile as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Nothing. It means nothing.” he muttered. His eyes scanned the horizon. It was a long way down. “Don’t be like that-” “Like what, Agent?” Loki fumed, spinning with a flourish which made the cut of his leathers swirl around his ankles.

The clouds crushing the sky were matched only by the ones gathering in his eyes, both menacingly beautiful in the rawness of their power.

“Rush to your side at the break of day, in an unknown land to a hastily deduced location only to be met with suspicion and incredulity that I would ever think to aid your distress unless under duress? Am I truly so irredeemable?” You felt the hair on your arms stand up, hackles raised. “Well I wouldn’t have needed to get away for a while if you hadn’t been such a presumptive arsehole last night,” “Oh – I see,” Loki said, nodding sarcastically as his hands flew up. “Of course. My fault, as usual.”

He spun away, walking ahead. “Keep up” he bristled loudly. You muttered curses under your breath. The pain was getting worse. Looking up, you were met with Loki’s icy glare over his shoulder. “What is it?” he snapped, trying to remain indifferent. But his eyebrows always gave him away. “I twisted my ankle or something on the ridge,” you sighed.

Loki rolled his eyes. “See – there!” you whined, gesturing. “Right there. Why do you need to roll your eyes at that?”

He stiffened, hands moving to his hips. “Will you allow me to carry you?” he drawled, evading the question. “No I can make it, it’s not that far” you lied. Loki nodded, circling back towards you. “At least take my arm,” he sniffed, offering it forth. And with a reluctant sigh, you took it.

“You need to change your clothes, Loki.” You looked up, meeting the indignant glare you knew would be waiting. “You said it yourself. Hazards: wayward tourists. When Steve finds out about me, he’ll be pissed. If he finds out about you rumbling us, he’ll be catatonic.” Loki released a ragged exhale. “Fine,” he griped. In a blinding flash, luxe emerald battle leathers transformed to the thoroughly beige ensemble from yesterday. “Better?” he smarmed, the sarcasm palpable. “Meh,” you replied. A knowing smirk was exchanged. It warmed the air between you.

“So listen,” you said tentatively, hobbling at his side. “Earlier, you said something about being irredeemable-” “-yes,” Loki cut. You felt his shoulders roll, his demeanour hardening again. “I’m trying to be...trying to, adapt myself. It’s a work in progress. So far it is proving...arduous. Last night was evidence of that.” “Oh. Well...I just meant that you're not irredeemable. We weren’t right together, I know that. You can’t help being a god and a prince and all the eh...attributes, that come from that, and it was wrong of me to...expect you to change? I don’t know.” The two of you picked your way over the uneven track in silence, heart sinking into your stomach before Loki cleared his throat.

“As I understand it, the habits of a lifetime are hard to break even for mortals,” he said, swirling his wrist with a flourish. “Imagine then, what it is like for me.” You threw him an incredulous stare. He frowned. “I understand that my explanation lends weight to your inaugural grievance but you cannot deny the logic” he muttered bitterly.

You licked your bottom lip, heart thumping as you eased the can of worms open. “So what you’re saying is that you agree with...the things I said you were?”

Your heart ached at the memory of the indifference in his eyes as you left him that day. ‘Haughty. Condescending. Unwaveringly arrogant.’

You had been so angry. So angry at his unwillingness to change. To be open to the possibility of change, after everything you had been through together. All the love, so-called, that you had shared. It wasn’t enough – how could you have thought it would be? And he had just sat, crossed-legged on the sofa as you bubbled over the brim. ‘Are we done here?’ he’d said coldly, like concluding a business transaction. In the end, you’d conceded, that the person you were most enraged at was yourself. Loki frowned deeper, staring ahead. You wondered if he was revisiting the same memory. Like loitering at the crevice of a haunted cellar, peering in. His fingers wrapped around yours, still gripping his forearm.

“Well, yes” he replied cautiously. “But I was never expected to be anything else. There was no need – I thought it was just...me. That it was inevitable. It’s all I’ve known.” You opened your mouth and closed it again. “Consider the leaves,” Loki said with a wave of his hand to the multi-coloured foliage littering the skyline. “Those over there...retain their summer green.” He pointed further down the ridge.

“And those, have turned to that rusted maroon you like so much.” He looked to you, features softening. “Does the green leaf know that it is to turn? To change and ebb? Does it have expectation of rebirth?” “It is pretty humble for you to compare yourself to a leaf, I’ll give you that” you mumbled, limping over a pile of scattered cow shit. Loki stopped abruptly, sliding his arm from yours and cupping your shoulders in his hands. His eyes were wide, running over your face as his brows slanted. “Darling, please let me carry you” he whispered earnestly. “Let me help you.” You considered telling him to fuck off, but one brief glance at the endless uneven path stretching down to the forest made you pause. “Fine,” you sighed. “But don’t call me darling. We don’t do that anymore.” A small smile pressed against Loki’s cheeks, making his dimples flash. Immediately he crouched, extending his arms with palms facing up. You shuffled between them, adopting the position.

The beige fleece Loki was wearing did nothing to stop the warmth of his hard chest seeping through your clothes, a thick waft of his natural musk filling your nostrils. With one hand looped behind his neck, clasping the other, you tried to imagine a world where this sweetness wasn’t everything you desperately wanted.

“See?” he postured absent-mindedly as he picked his way down the path with ease. “I can be charming.” Glad of the change of topic, you kept your tone to one of mild interest. “Who says you aren’t charming?” “My brother,” he growled quietly. A snort of unexpected laughter erupted from your throat. You looked to him, faces inches apart. The crawl of Loki’s bemused gaze from your lips to your eyes made your heart skip.

“It’s just…” you started guiltily, searching the depths of his brilliantly blue irises. Even in the gathering gloom of the storm, they sparked. “I-” “I understand,” he said abruptly, looking forward again. His lips formed a hard line, the blade of his cheekbone deepening as his face set. Whatever Loki thought you had meant to say, it was not the truth. But somehow, the truth was harder to muster now than the fiction where you couldn’t stand him. You felt him readjust his grip on your waist, fingers sinking into the soft fleece beneath your rainjacket.

“You are charming,” you whispered against the wind. It was supposed to sound comforting. Platonic. But a part of you hoped that it wouldn’t. Against your better judgement, you curled the hair on his furthest shoulder behind his ear before knitting your fingers again. “Thor isn’t one to talk, anyway.” “Rogers confirmed it,” Loki rebutted harshly, the words catching in his throat. He was very pointedly not looking at you, you noticed. “Steve isn’t one to talk either,” you chuckled, before sighing. Rain fell heavier now, thick droplets landing on your forehead and following the tracks of forgotten tears.

You watched it fall against Loki’s brow, a silken sheen of moisture coating the milk-wild perfection you’d kissed every inch of in your time together. A lone droplet rolled down his temple, following the gutter of his cheekbone before dripping languidly down his chin. It lingered on his jawline, taking the long way down before falling. “Are you alright, Agent?” Loki murmured.

He’d been watching.

Thunder rolled overhead as you nodded slowly, rain clinging to your lashes. Hair was plastered to his cheeks now, inky tendrils winding across alabaster skin like oil on snow. His grip around your body tightened, looking upwards. “Hold on tight,” he growled.

You barely had time to process his words before a torrent unleashed overhead, battering against the ground as Loki began a run down the hill. “M-magic t-to dry-?” you gasped as every stride of his strong legs knocked the breath from your lungs.

“It is fruitless against the English onslaught,” Loki yelled over the storm’s sudden din. “Believe me.” You buried your face in his neck, the heat of your breath against his wet skin conjuring images of lazy mornings spent fucking in his shower. How steam filled the room like Vatican smoke, heralding the joyus arrival of your climax over and over.

Loki would hold you safe against the wall, his large palms cupping your ass and guiding you towards pleasure you had never experienced before. And never would again. The sweet pants of praise he released wetly against your skin, the splatter from his sodden hair as he snapped his neck back in ecstasy. The squeak of his enormous hand running down the glass shield as he came undone inside you. It would haunt your mind forever. The ghost in the cellar.

And now, just like then, there was nothing to do but hold on. Your grip tightened around his neck, the flat of his thigh hitting your ass every so often when, presumably, he cleared a tree trunk.

Every nerve beneath your skin was on fire, each movement jolting life into feelings you had tried to smother. You were acutely aware of your lips parting against the curve of his neck, delicate skin hovering above his own.

Taunting yourself, you brushed against him; sucking your own breath back from the rebound. The fine hairs on his skin tingled your lips, sending twisting aches of desire between your thighs. Loki veered to the left, thrusting your face against his neck. Involuntarily the grip around him tightened, clasping his skin to your lips in a desperate, if accidental, embrace.

And suddenly, it was gone. Loki had lowered you to the ground, standing back abruptly. He stood triangular, legs apart like a soldier.

The fabric of his clothes was dark, saturated with water and clinging to his lithe body like a second skin. It hung against the marbled muscle, tracking every deep line carved into his thighs and plastering the bulge of his crotch in a way that could only be described as obscene.

The stare he held was formidable, two distantly smouldering eyes set with purpose which observed from beneath heavily knitted brows. Hands clasped ceremonially behind his back, he lowered his chin and nodded to the side. With disappointment, you realised you were back at the cottage. Loki had stopped in a small clearing, and the dismal looking residence couldn’t be more than fifty meters away. “I thought you could go ahead” he said, raking his fingers through sodden hair. It slathered back from his face, the sharp lines glinting. “That way, Rogers will never need to know there was an...incident. I will follow after an appropriate interval with an appropriate excuse.”

“Come with me,” you said incredulously, wiping a swathe of water from your cheek. As Loki shook his head, you found you couldn’t stop yourself. “I want them to know you helped, it was my fault I was stupid, I got myself fucking crag-fast like an idiot...and hurt and you-” “No.” was Loki’s staunch response.

The lonely sound of rain on the tree canopy rustled.

Brow furrowing, you stepped closer and brushed down his arm, drawing one hand out from behind his back. It sat limply in yours. “Come with me,” you pleaded.

Loki frowned, staring at your hand holding his own. As if it was not his own. And with aching clarity, you realised this was him trying. “I fear, under the circumstances, I would not be able to contain myself from being…” he swallowed thickly, cricking his neck to the side before continuing, “-myself.” You stared at him, and he at you.

There was a flutter of wet leaves beneath his feet as he shuffled. “Really, you should go you’ll catch your dea-” And just like that, without thinking, you had crossed the space between you.

Like an out of body experience, hands slid over his sodden shoulders, pulling his parted lips to yours mid-words. Warmth flooded your body as his frozen arms slowly made a cage around your waist, sliding down your back like you would shatter beneath his touch.

His tongue slipped cautiously between your lips. It grew with each passing second to a raging hunger in every all-consuming jut muscle against your own. It felt like home. Your fingers tangled in clumped strands of hair against his scalp, teeth clashing while fears were forgotten. If only for now. For now, you wanted to love him. “Loki,” you moaned into his mouth.

His name held weight when you said it like that.

His hands searched your body, never settling in one place, grasping at the jacket which crackled and slid beneath his fingers. Loki panted, cupping your chin before delving deeper.

Every unspoken word, every abandoned touch, each lingering glance that ate away at you in the dead of night flooding from your body to his in that kiss.

“Darling,” he breathed as he held you still. His wet forehead pressed against yours. Your eyes were still closed, waiting for his return. Nerves fluttered in your chest, your stomach; happiness that you daren’t have hoped for sloshing at the edges of your sanity. You couldn’t think.

“Darling,” he repeated stiffly, a gentle shake of his grip urging your eyes open. “I can’t-” he said solemnly, as you opened your eyes. You felt words forming – ‘Don’t call me darling’ - or maybe it was a scream. But a single finger to your lips silenced it, whatever it would have been. “Go.” he said. And he meant it. And as you felt the scream rise again in your throat, you did.

Loki’s watch followed you all the way to the door as he lingered on the edge of the forest. You could feel his gaze as keenly as though it were his hands. How you wished that memory was as hard to conjure as it had been before daybreak. Through the window, you could see Thor buttering crumpets.

One last kiss, you thought; hoping the rain would mask your tears from the others inside.

One last kiss before the lights went out.

>>>> Chapter Four: Home Truths Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog @literatureatthebowofnails

[berrybeca]

Velvety Secret - Lorenzo B.

any thoughts about kinktober + slytherin boys? i’ll be pretty busy in october, so this weekend i’m gonna try and write some things to post later on. meanwhile, here’s a little thing!!

neutral!reader, established relationship

(if you played Hogwarts Legacy i hope you understand my reference to the Ghost of our Love side quest!)

Enzo keeps his arm around your shoulder, your sides pressed together as you both lazily walk down a hill, having only woken up a few minutes ago with him poking you.

About the 30th dirty glance is thrown to Lorenzo as he continues to lead you both, which he chuckles off and smirks softly. A breeze hits the both of you as you both stumble on the castle grounds. You probably wouldn’t have even known where he was leading you both, a mix from sleepiness, slight annoyance, and un-shaking trust on his person, that is, if it hadn’t been for the big ‘FORBIDDEN FOREST’ sign right in front of you, the sun just now starting to make his presence on the sky.

“Enzo, wh-what are we doing?” You ask, a yawn causing a slight stutter in your speech as he reaches his hand to ruffle your hair, ignoring the question and dragging you with him across the small bridge towards the forest.

“We’ll loose it if the sun comes on too quickly…” He murmurs back, his eyes searching around the forest as the tall trees englobe you. You blink - then blink again, seeing candles floating in the air - a common sight, sure, but sure as hell not in the Forbidden Forest.

You look back to Enzo, as if to search for his surprise to mirror yours, but he finds the candles and smiles proudly, upping his pace and taking your hand in his towards the candles. A large tree trunk blocks your view, but a few floating candles scatter around it, confusing you further.

Enzo helps you up a small hill, and you encounter, surrounded by floating white candles, a white patio table with tall purple flowers surrounding the tree trunk and table.

He reaches into his hoodies pocket, removing a folded up paper towel, that he places on the center of the patio table, and you mimic his behavior and sit in front of him, looking curiously as he unfolds the paper towel, to reveal two pieces of red velvet cake.

“Yeah? You like it?” Enzo murmurs, noticing your curious eyes and slight smile. “We haven’t had a proper little date in weeks, so just…” He drifts off with a smile, handing you a small fork as he starts to dig into the cake, your fork following suit.

(for reference, this is where the quest leads you to!)

[lunitawrites]

Both Sides of the Moon - part one

pairing: biker!joel miller x fem!reader rating: explicit word count: 2.8k summary: After a troubled childhood you move back to your hometown. You are trying to avoid facing the dark past of your family, but you realize it will be harder than you thought when a mysterious stranger appears in town trying to take revenge. TWs: no-outbreak AU, age gap (reader mid-twenties, Joel is late forties), loss of parents, reference to sex work, reference to foster homes, guns, knife, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, Joel being violent towards reader, petnames, reader has hair long enough that it can be grabbed, otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n a/n: hey! so this is my first attempt at writing, I really hope some of you out there will like it. I am eternally grateful to @papipascalispunk who reviewed and edited my work. Thanks a million to @toxicanonymity and @hier--soir for their suggestions! Shoutout to the other Joel Millers on bikes: a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, jailbird by @toxicanonymity and little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore masterlist

You are fidgeting with your nametag in front of the mirror, trying to apply it to your uniform, but you must have bent the needle when you removed it last time because it won't stay up now.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’,” you hear Arlene shout from the kitchen, “It's a small town, everyone knows you by now.”

“I suppose they do,” you mumble and drop the pin to the dresser. She's always been nice to you, almost mothering you, since you started working together in the diner. You take one last look in the mirror, smoothing out your uniform and walking through the kitchen to start your 7 PM shift.

It's a slow start. The townsfolk don't start coming until the sun paints the sky purple and orange, until the dust strats to settle and the cicadas’ song fills up the night. Your shift begins at the bar; whiskey, beer, salted peanuts, a smile or two for better tips. The bar fills up with a subtle buzz, stench of alcohol and anticipation.

Later on in the evening, Sam asks you to wait tables instead. You usually prefer staying behind the bar, but it's Friday night, the dining area will get busy soon. Arlene will need the extra pair of hands taking the orders anyway, so you pick up your notepad and pen and head out to the floor. 

You are always cautious out here, you have to be. The men are not violent, but they always try to take what they think they deserve. A brush of a knuckle on your thighs, eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, an inappropriate comment disguised as a compliment, fingertips on the curve of your hips as they pass by. Sam, your boss, always makes sure that it’s not more, keeping an eye on you at all times from behind the bar. Sam is one of the few people who knows about your past, who knows that there were times when you were giving a lot more than a smile for some crinkled up bills, who knows that just a few months ago, your uniform was nothing more than a pair of thigh highs and your underwear.

—

You were six when your dad died, and you moved away with your mom right after. You stayed with her for another few months until they diagnosed her. She passed away before the next Christmas. By January, you were in your first foster home. After you got out from your last foster home with nothing more than a few pairs of clothes and the fifty dollar bill that you stole from your foster dad's wallet, you really didn’t see another option for survival. 

It started at a gentlemen's club called Red Rose, just outside of Austin, all neon lights and kitsch, velvet and satin from a decade before. They gave you a room in the motel next to it, but only if you worked the after hours shift, so you agreed. You didn't know what after hours meant at the time, but you would have agreed to almost anything if it meant that you would spend the night in a bed and not somewhere outside.

The after hours, you learned quickly, meant selling your body to anyone who took interest in it during the opening hours of the club. So while you did spend your night in a bed, it was with a truck driver named Dylan, who paid you hundred dollars for an hour of you being a good girl, as he described. Forty of those dollars covered the motel bill and twenty went to the club manager for organizing the deal.

You spent six years working at Red Rose, eventually saving up enough money so you didn't have to stay at the motel. You rented a flat with black mold and sticky linoleum floors, sharing it with three of the other girls from the club. You were driving an old Chevy that one of the girls passed onto you after she moved up north. Six years of Dylans and Bobs and Johns and Joses and Miguels. Six years of sweat and spit and bruises and slaps and come, until you couldn't anymore. 

You moved back to your hometown, although it was never really your home, and while you knew little about the circumstances of your father’s death, you were still afraid to come back, terrified to face the past. But as it turned out, you never had to, as if there was some silent agreement amongst the town that they never spoke of your family. No one gossipped, or if they did, they did so silently that it never reached your ears. They welcomed you into town as if you were a stranger. 

You moved into your old family home at the edge of town. White paint chipped from wooden boards, almost two decades of dust and sorrow covering every inch. You slowly made it your own home, settling into the master bedroom that was once your parents’, but leaving every other room untouched. You have not dared to open the door of your old bedroom yet. 

You still drove the old Chevy when you started working at Sam’s six nights a week, the only diner in town, serving the majority of the people who lived there.

—

It's Friday, which means a good crowd and better tips. Friday means an extra drink for everyone to celebrate yet another week survived in this dusty town in south Texas, just above the border. So you move among the tables with a smile so wide that your face starts to hurt.

It's almost eleven now and most of the tables are occupied; workers for their well-deserved after work drink, youngsters pregaming before driving up to Austin for a night out, some couples leaning over their drinks to be closer to one another, families finishing up their meals, greasy hands stopping you to order another basket of fries. The buzz is loud now, the air in the diner thick and heavy with alcohol and laughter. A usual Friday at Sam’s, until it isn’t.

The door squeaks open, heavy footsteps on the floor, broad shoulders in the doorframe. You really shouldn't be able to hear it over the sound of Friday in the diner, but you do. You lock eyes with deep amber, a pair of sad eyes, searching for a place to sit. Strong arms hidden under a black leather jacket, dark wash jeans, disheveled brown curls, almost halo-like, lit by the street lights behind him. The diner seems to catch up with you, surprised faces turning to the direction of the door, sentences left unfinished, whispers let out, cheeks turned red in surprise, Adam’s apples bobbing up and down. Is it? It can’t be. The sounds of Friday fun turn into whispers, and whispers turn to silence. Fear creeps up in your spine, something primal, something unexplainable.

He walks up to an empty table, heavy boots on sticky floor are the only sound now. The squeal of a chair, denim rubbing against the fake leather of the booth, fingers tapping on the tabletop, an impatient sigh. You move your feet from where they were rooted to the ground just a minute ago. Sweaty hands flipping paper on the notepad. You clear your throat before closing up the space between you and his table.

“What can I get you?”, your voice comes out raspy, almost scared. He looks up at you, a faint smile on his face, eyes not quite meeting yours. Instead, he looks at your lips, gaze burning on your skin, you press your lips together, as if you could hide them entirely. Your eyes flick over to the bar, searching for another pair of brown eyes, searching for comfort. But comfort is not what you find, Sam looks back at you with a wild gaze, almost panic in his eyes.

“Whiskey, neat,” the stranger says, now looking at his hands on the table.

“Coming right up!”, you answer with fake cheerfulness in your voice. Legs heavy as you move, “A whiskey, neat,” you say when you reach the bar, waiting for Sam to prepare the drink. You understand that the questions are not for now, the questions are for later. The people slowly turn their attention back to the drinks in front of them, conversations starting again. But still, the air stays as if it was frozen the minute the stranger came in, Friday never has been so quiet at Sam’s diner..

“There you go”, you say as you place the glass in front of him, voice heavy with the accent you thought you never had.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, not looking up at you this time.

Time feels slow, dragging on every minute, every second of the night. You cannot take being inside anymore. You feel like you are going to suffocate.

“I am going on my break,” you say quickly and don’t wait for anyone to acknowledge, just disappear through the kitchen. 

The muggy evening air hugs your skin as you open the back door of the diner. Being outside is just as suffocating as being inside, but at least it's quieter. You take a cigarette out from the crumpled package in your apron, place it between your lips but don't light it just yet. You should quit. You exhale sharply and put the cigarette back. Istead, you lean your head back to the wall, looking up at the moon. She's in her full glory tonight, casting pale light to the dark forest in front of you.

You are not sure what happened inside. This man who you are sure you have never seen in your life just woke up something deep inside you. You feel like you are drawn to him by a strange force, a force that is so foreign to you. There was a certain kind of sadness in his eyes that you only see when you look into the reflection of your own eyes. Grief. Lost. Denial. Something that balances between madness and sanity. 

You hear the front door open with a squeaking sound. Footsteps, drunk laughter and heavy drawls take over the silence of your break. You are about to go inside when you hear an intoxicated voice call out:

“Where do you think you’re goin´?” the drunk man shouts. “You think you can just walk in here and have a drink like the rest of us? Like you fuckin’ belong here.” he spits. The rest of the men stop talking. Now he is the only voice. “Let me tell you. You don´t. You should not come around anymore. You are not welcome here and you should know that.”

“So what happens if I do  come around?” the stranger's voice is laced with coldness. You slowly start walking to the front. You need to see him again. You need to understand what's happening. You feel yourself shaking, despite the warm humidity of the night. 'You should just stay out of it,' the voice in your head says, but you keep walking.

You peek around the corner of the diner. There he is with six men from the town. They all seem fairly drunk. They seem like they are looking for trouble.

“Well, if you are so fuckin´ sure you gonna come around,” he drawls “we might as well just give you a taste of what we are plannin´ to do with you. Right, boys?” he laughs and the men laugh with him, like a pack of coyotes. They all sound way too drunk to do any real harm, but there are six of them against him.

“Try me” the stranger grits through his teeth. He doesn't seem to be afraid, he seems like he would not care if he lives or dies. He seems like someone who gave up a long time ago.

“That ’s enough!” You shout and start walking up to the crowd. ”Go home or I will call Sam out and we will see who won’t be allowed to come around here anymore”. The loudest one flashes you a drunk grin and says: “That is just fuckin’ hilarious. You wanna protect him?” he asks.

“I am not protecting anyone, it’s my job to keep this place running. So I am doing just exactly that.” you say putting your hands on your waist. “Now, gentlemen, I would appreciate, if you all went home and cared about your wives and kids just as much as you care about your liquor. I reckon you had enough fun for tonight. Go! All of you!” you order them.

You are surprised to see that they do. It might be the mention of their wives and the reminder of how they would react if they saw them coming home drunk and all beaten up. The loudest one turns back for a second and addresses you. “You don’t know what you are doing.”

“I guess not.” you whisper and turn your head to the stranger.

“You didn't need to, darlin’. I can defend myself,” he says, drawl thick as the night above you. 

“Mhm, you seem like the type who can,” you say with a half smile. He laughs at that, but there is no humor in it. It should not be possible for a laugh to sound that sad.

“You new around here?”, he takes a step forward, cornering you to the wall. His eyes are searching for the name tag on your uniform. As he cannot find anything his eyes flick back to your face again. His gaze lights something up in you, deep inside your stomach. Frozen flames licking your insides. You are terrified of it, you are terrified of him.

“You can say that, moved back recently. And you? It seems like everyone knows you around here.” you say, heart pounding in your throat. 

“Wasn't hard to sense that, was it?”, you can feel his breath on your skin. Whiskey, burning on your cheeks.

“No,” you say, casting down your eyes. Somehow his proximity makes you restless. His presence makes the blood rush faster in your body. Your reaction is almost instinctual, you want to rip his flash and sink your teeth into him. To be closer or to get away. You are not sure.

He must sense it, a sly smile across his lips. He lifts his hand, hovers his knuckles over your cheeks tentatively. You are red burning fire. He brushes his knuckles over your left cheek, your chin, the curve of your neck. He rests his palm on your shoulder at last.

“You are shaking,” he murmurs. He takes his hand away. It's almost like you couldn't breathe while he touched you. Lungs filling up with air again. You lock eyes with him. “So what's your..,” he starts but cannot finish, Arlene opens the back door and calls your name. 

“Everything okay here?”, she asks.

His eyes darken. Amber turns black. “It's you,” he says, “I should have fuckin’ known.” One hand grabbing your hair, the other turning you around. Rough denim scratching the back of your thighs as he pushes you up to the wall. Head knocking on wood, you feel dizzy. You hear Arlene’s muffled scream, the door opening again. Cold steel pressed into your throat, you taste your death. “I couldn't have planned this better, could I?”, he whispers into your ear.

“Who the fuck are you? What do you want from me?”, you spit, fear blinding you as you try to grab a hold of him behind you.

“You don't know who I am? That's good. That´s just fuckin’ good”, he laughs, blood freezing in your veins from the sound of it.

You hear footsteps, Arlene’s breathy cry in the background. Boots then. Heavier than she could be. 

“Joel Miller,” Sam says with venom in his voice, “Leave her the fuck alone!”

His gun is pointing to Joel’s temple. Sam takes a step closer, “Get out of here. Right fuckin’ now.” Joel slowly releases the handful of hair he still has in his fist. As he does, a bitter smile spreads on his face.

“Another time then,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. He steps back, walks slowly to the parking lot where he swings his leg over a 1990 Harley-Davidson, the exact same model that is in your father's garage. 

You look at Sam, eyes blurred with tears and confusion.You are certain of one thing, and one thing only. Joel Miller wants to kill you.

—

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Please let me know if you'd like to be on the tag list for the next parts!

[hummingbird-games]

2023 In Review (Indie Games)

Last year's! | 2021

I apologize in advance for how long this might be. As a reminder, I don't bash games here so even if I hated something with every fiber of my being...I ain't sharing. As a second reminder, my more in depth reviews and live blogging has moved to Gem's Game Gems so I don't clutter the HBG's main blog. Okay. ON WITH THE REVIEW!!

DEMOS

Diffraction (Demo)- A rainy day otome indeed. I love the quiet gentleness of this game, the two romance options, and the fact that our MC is a photographer and struggling with her art and stack of life "failures" (because...SAME!!)

Alaris - I was asleep and now I am awake: I came late for the advertised fae and dragon lore, stayed seated and waiting for Fenir zjgjdf. Oh, and I guess the mystery surrounding our MC's abilities LOL.

The Summit Library - When I say I was maaaaaad when I realized I blew through chapter 1 and would have to go back to waiting for more content??? LOL, I was very miffed. Anyhoo, check out this title for the gorgeous art, another intriguing mystery (like what is *up* with the magic in the poor library?? who or what is to blame?? 👀) and of course the lovely characters we've been introduced to thus far.

Of Sense and Soul - I'm a regency romance girl. Like after you strip away the other stuff, I am but a poor woman with simple needs: a good ass love story 🤧💛 It's about the yearning and the slow burn and the will they/won't they/PLEASEEE they...I've never been so charmed by a demo, and the full game is going to be amazing I just know it!

Made Marion - This project is a game I've been keeping tabs on for a hot minute but hadn't taken the time to sit and properly enjoy the demo. I'M SO GLAD I DID!!! It's in early access now, so I'm hoping eventually I'll be able to carve out some time to play, but guysss Velvet Cupcake is doing the Thing?!? No idea which love interest I'll go for first, but I had a fun time meeting the Nottingham peeps in the demo.

Herotome (Super Demo) - Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh my GOSHHH. Where do I even began?? (Really the question is where the hell do I end because this is one of those projects I talk about a lot/think about a lot and surprisingly haven't run out of things to say zkjfksjd). Another game I've been following for a while, it 100% lives up to the superhero genre in its aesthetic, the characters you interact with, the music and sound design, and of course the slowly unfurling story. Jade and Mia had come out as my top faves, Warden is still there, like hovering in the backgroud, shhhh but I have a special place in my heart for Griffin too (that conversation we have with her?? I have so many screenshots just so I can go back and reread and sear the words in my brain. Like a weirdo. Yup.)

Celestial Crowns - Stats building, celestial royalty, dating sim where you fuck around and find out your choices directly affect your MC's personality?? I'm sat. I supported the Kickstarter and now I try to practice patience for the full game's release siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighh.

OTOME/JOSEI JAM

Please note this is a SUPER abridged list for my sanity and I fell a little more in love with these 2 jams with each entry I played...

Intertwine - As embarrassing as it sounds, I've never given much thought to the "red string" thing, and I consume more than enough romance media LOL!! But Van is suuuuuch a beautiful man, the UI for this game is so interactive and lovely, the music is ALSO lovely, just lovely-love all the way around teehee. (Also this game encourages replayabillity so like, do with that info what you will.)

Spring Boy [Demo] - I believe this game is going through a complete rehaul, so my thoughts and feelings refer to the original jam entry I played. The art is bright and cute and it's a super super short demo, but I was intrigued by the other student we meet on our mission to plead with our professor about our bombed exam lol!

Assignment Due: Project Blue - IRl group projects??? Suck absolute ass. Group projects with a guy name Asher?? Suddenly it's my new favorite thing in the world 😁

Cryptid Campaign Manager [DEMO] - Remember the last time I looked over a cryptid dating sim??? Remember how I was SUCH a fool?? Good thing I didn't make that mistake again!! The prologue is such a tease but you get an idea of what the full game is gonna be like, and I'm excited to see where my career involving love (and politics) goes!

Heart Cage [Demo] - Yoooooo I stay my ass far far far away from yanderes (could never get into the trope or the character type). WELP. Guess I just needed to keep searching because I really downloaded this off a whim--well, the whim being one of my fellow dev peers playing and rating-- and proceeded to get sucked in 🤧I thought being a detective would be the highlight, but I guuuueeesssss I was more into the romance options than I thought. Oops.

Evernight - I tried to explain what this game meant to me on the side blog, but words failed me. I still don't know what to say other than I loved it?? Which is like ummm I say I love everything, and yeah I'm easy to please BUT Y'ALLLLLL if you play no other game, play this one. Please. Date a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or a fae. Plz. Also figuring out the mystery of your MC's abilities and past is just delightful, ugh.

Bright Oak (demo) - Anotha one I wrote about on the side blog!!! Play this one!!! The writing is lush and atmospheric and the characters are all delightful and it's another game with a mystery to untangle!

The Faithfulness of the Universe- This one gets the award for most unique all around entry that I played. Theeeeee prettiest pixel art to bless my eyeballs, and this tasty mystery concerning Fate and witch Faustina's future (or lack thereof 👀) and what it all means. As a player I very much want to know what it all means!

A Cup For All Seasons - Another game that needs its flowers y'all. It's short but super healing and super cozy and the voice acting and music really tie the gaming experience together???

The Working Woman's Guide to Burning Bridges - DEMO - It's the way I played the demo twice and I've been thinking about it ever since 😭😭😭🙃 obviously life happens and things come up, plus this was a demo. But. BUT!!! I am on my hands and knees prayinnggg the team gets together again to finish the game. I love playing as a stressed, lowkey bitter hot mess who doesn't have her life together 😂somehow the fictional version is soooo much more entertaining!!!

Keyframes (Spring Demo) - After the game College Craze, this is legit THE college, slice of life visual novel of my dreams. I cannot wait for the updated demo next year, and the Kickstarter whenever that rolls around. And now that the developer is on Tumblr, I've definitely been stalking the account and reading each new post like it's my day/night/weekend job 🤧

Hello Counsel 💋 - Okay I take it back, Evernight is like a 20/10 but Hello Counsel is like an 100/10 👁️👄👁️ This game is necessary for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, alright? The banter ✅ the character designs ✅ the music ✅ the sizzling chemistry between Poise and Salem ✅ I wish this game had more buzz because IT'S SO GOOD!!! (also the dev, Miseri, is who I wanna be when I grow up. I've made it through almost their whole backlog of games and there are no misses and EVERY game is different from the rest and it makes it hard for a toodler dev--ME--to cope LOL)

Candied Hearts - Isekaied into a candy themed game?? Sign me TF UP!!! (Peppermint I love you dearly, you must understand.)

Fully Released & Played (at least 1 playthrough)

The Knight's Dilemma - I don't even know how I originally stumbled upon this??? I just know it had been in my backlog for a hot minute and I was intrigued enough to save it way back when. Y'ALL WHY DIDN'T I PLAY SOONER SKJFHFJFH! There's a couple different endings, I loved the voice direction, AND it's such a simple concept of a game that was just executed beautifully.

Trouble Comes Twice - If I had to make a top 5 list of romance VNs, guess who makes the list?? Guess. Guess guess guess. Have you guessed yet??? LOL! I have been in love with TCT since it's development days and with each passing month, waiting in anticipation, playing the Pateron beta builds, screaming on the main blog about every single thought I had about Jace and Hazel (shoutout to Jace for helping me figure out *me*) Lol if you're curious about said thoughts, those posts are on this blog and not the side blog.

Aelfric the Wondrous - 10/10 would love to forget my first play through JUST to have that experience fresh again 😭😭💛Cute and funny and a wonderful parody type game all around.

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986 - Goodness, there's no excuse for why this took me years to finish but anyhoo, I finished, I loved it, I recommend it! It's romantic and achingly authentic and the art is soooo gorgeous I literally can't stand it 😭

The Things You Do For Love - Unhinged yandere manages to entertain and garner sympathy and laughter from Gemini. And that poly ending is chef's kiss too????

Band Camp Boyfriend - There are a handful of games I found and loved before I began my game development journey, and this is one of them. BCB is so dear to me, because of the story and characters but also because of the Dynamic Duo creators and their team behind the scenes. I was never a band kid I was a chorus kid but just as the band geeks loved this game to pieces, us normal folks do too!! Even the boys who I didn't like I STILL managed to find joy in playing their routes (still have a few more to finish at the time of this posting lol, GOTTA GET THE FINAL ROUTE YO). Anyway, this game more than delivered for me and I hope more people keep discovering it!!

Belle Automata: Chronicle I [RELEASED] - While only Chronicle 1 is out at the time of this posting, I already know that the 2nd and 3rd parts are going to be just as amazing???? I wrote about this one on the side blog, so here's my copypaste that still rings true:  

I love TNP (The Nightmare Prince) but Victor’s route hit the sweet spot for me. Maybe it’s the slow(er) burn nature of this route, maybe it’s the reserved nature of Victor and watching him slowly start to care (AND NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE FEELINGS TEEHEE) for me.

A Date with Death - I wrote about this on the side blog--again--. The demo. And then right after finishing a route. And then again where I was fully awake and still managed to sound deranged. No copypaste for that, I shall be nice. But yeah!! Another game where I was screaming at the sky about how much I love it and how I'll never know peace as long as I live.

Our Life: Baxter DLC - I need to offer an official apology to both Cove and Derek because falling head over heels, down the stairs, crashing into the parking lot, falling again but down a manhole for Baxter's infuriating ass was NOT on my 2023 bingo board??? HELLO???? I bought his DLC just to complete my OL collection. Was not expecting to love it this much. Was not expecting to be called to write fanfic and abandon all responsibilities to do this. WHILE DOWN WITH COVID TOO. Allow me to play the song of my people. *Send in the Clowns plays*

Our Cinderella - (this is so funny I'm taking about a side game before the main game LOLOLOLOL) Guys. Guysss. You guyyyysss 🥹if you're looking for a cozy, hilarious, equally oddly and wonderfully sweet short game, this is the one!! You may have your personal favorite Iggy ship (like me) but all the pairings are so amazing and just make sense lol!

Wylde Flowers - This is the only non visual novel game on here but it gets the spotlight because I did NOT spend 90+ hours on this game to gatekeep this beauty. No. It the coziest, the funniest, the funnest, the most addictive Switch game (after Teacup) I've ever played.

Fully Released (& still on 1st playthrough)

Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin - Life kicked my butt and then sat on me SO while I finally got my grubby hands on the full copy, I still have only played the entirety of the demo. But. We will return to this in 2024 and hopefully I'll have a full review for the next wrap up!

Our Wonderland - I looked back at the side blog and I can't believe it was only THIS year that I started OW??? Because I'd known of the game and the dev for longer than that??? So basically what I'm saying is that I was chicken shit for longer than I've been in love with this world that Developer Carrot has created kjzhhshggj. But OMG to get me, who is scared oh so easily to get hella invested in this clearly labeled horror game??????????????? And even with shit gets super absurd and hella disturbing, I cannot stop playing. At the time of this post, I'm only in Act 4, hence the category above, but it's only because I play each act in a sitting and lose track of space and time and myself. That's a compliment btw.

...

Okie!! That's 2023 in a nutshell! I played a looooot of really good games this year and while I would have liked to talk about them all, I think this list provides a nice overview.

Let me know if we share any favorites!

- Gemini 💛

[lachatalovematcha]

i know u love the song love arcade by the girl group red velvet but i saw you talking in a post about not liking sunflower. sunflower is one of the best songs in all of k-pop. i would like you to do some kind of ranking of the songs from that album. I hope we have some common tastes i like ur blog, I've been following you for a while. i confess that I was a little sad about sunflower but that's ur opinion and ur taste in particular. if you want to rank other albums I would love to seeand I really like your blog💕💕💕

🎀🍓🌈Hellooooooooow!!!!!🌈🍓🎀

♡ thanks for liking my blog ♡

there's no need to feel sad 💕🌈

hahaha it's just my opinion like you said

My ranking:

1 - Love Arcade ♡ : this song is so beautiful especially the chorus melody ♡ and the instrumentals are great

2- Bubble ♡ : simply because it is similar to songs from old anime, romance and mahou shoujo♡ it's so cute

3- Cosmic ♡ : harmonies on point as always, incredible vocals, perfect melody, beautiful mv, not to mention that the teaser made me cry with so many references to their previous comebacks♡

4 Night Drive & Last Drop ♡ : 4th is shared by these 2 great songs, night drive is a special song for those who like city pop like me, but unfortunately the previous ones caught my attention more, but it's still a beautiful song♡ Last Drop a beautiful song the chorus got me a lot ♡

5- Sunflower ♡ : I swear I don't hate this song, but when I compare it to the rest of the album... it's not as good as the others the song starts well, the verses are very good, but then the chorus comes and everything goes wrong, for me the chorus is very similar to boom clap by charli xcx and I don't particularly like this song I'm not a hater for the love of God I just don't like it If I ever change my opinion about Sunflower I'll let you know, this could happen, because it's happened that I know a song and don't like it very much and after about 5 years I start to love the song, I don't hate it haha ​​I just don't like the chorus ♡

Thanks for the ask , it was fun, a different ask, if you want to know about RV albums & eps or other girl groups, send me other asks

[liefst]

hi! <3 i'm travelling to amsterdam for the next 3 days with my love and i'm wondering if there are any restaurants, cafes, vintage/thrift spots or cute stores (or anything else really!) you'd recommend as a local? only if you want to of course, no pressure! love your presence and your blog! have a lovely evening! :)

hi! sorry, when you sent me this ask i completely blanked and couldn't think of anything. i hope you had a lovely time in amsterdam, there's lots of cute places to see that you'll find just by walking around. hmm here's some tips i can come up with now, for possible future reference, or for someone else reading this:

thrift shop Gideon Italiaander at Beethovenstraat 1: really big, they often have really weird stuff, cheap - i've found some really special things there.

de koffieschenkerij at Oudekerksplein 27: a café located in a really old and pretty building attached to the oude kerk (old church). it's especially nice to sit outside in the shade of the trees in summer.

i love the red velvet cake at de drie graefjes. they have three locations but the one near dam square and the new church at Eggertstraat 1 is the most picturesque.

oude nieuwstraat is a very pretty and short red light street. for some reason tourists never go there.

this is just my personal interests speaking but i really love the quilt shop Petra Prins at Nieuwezijds Voorburgwal 97 :)

if you like going to the cinema i can really recommend going to The Movies at Haarlemmerdijk 159 (art house cinema with an art deco interior - you could also just pop inside to have a cup of coffee) and Pathé Tuschinski at Reguliersbreestraat 26-34 (grande and absolutely stunning on both the outside and the inside, art nouveau/art deco style).

[baileypie-writes]

I was wondering if you could do some velvet x fem reader Angst with a fluffy ending, maybe velvet and y/n are both movie stars and a Interview tries to get with y/n and velvet gets all sad and cries and stuff

A/N ~ Sure! I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy it!

~I Don’t Like Him Like That~

Velvet x Fem!Movie Star!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Crushes to Relationship

Synopsis: You get asked out, and Velvet assumes her feelings for you are one-sided. However, that’s not the case.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, minor angst, a man making Reader feel uncomfortable, crying(Velvet), Reader confessing her feelings for Velvet, Veneer is not present in this fic, cringey

You were breathtaking. She could barely keep her eyes off you. Velvet thought it was a crime to look that good, but there you were.

The both of you were at a red carpet event for the premier of your new movie. The movie also featured Velvet’s new song. You guys being the biggest pop star and actor meant that you two were surrounded by people. But Velvet could hardly focus on interacting with them, because her eyes would keep trailing back to you.

You and Velvet had been friends for a while. You’d met on several occasions, and became closer and closer. Velvet didn’t want to admit it, but she was down bad for you. Your personality complimented hers perfectly, and you were so fun to be around!

Finally, the crowd around Velvet had thinned out enough, so she could slither her way through it to get to you. She had to wave and call your name a few times, which was mildly frustrating, but you eventually noticed her.

“Hey, Velvet!” You said enthusiastically. Before she could greet you back, a camera man motioned for the two of you to pose for a picture. You quickly got into position. Velvet had to hide her blush as much as possible when you put your hand around your waist, pulling her closer. The camera flashed a few times, and the camera man gave a thumbs up, signaling that he was done.

“Hey (name).” Velvet finally said. She wasn’t prepared for when you suddenly hugged her tightly, so her blush became a little more prominent. She loosely returned the hug.

“So, what did you think?” You asked, pulling away. You were referring to the movie, as the viewing had just finished.

“It was pretty good. Especially the scene where my song was playing.” Velvet said, gesturing to herself proudly.

You laughed. “Hey would you do me a favor and get me a drink? All these lights are making me hot!” You said, fanning yourself. Usually, Velvet would be the one having people get things for her, but she was just so eager to please you.

“Sure. Be right back!” She waved, and made her way to the food table. She poured a glass of water, since you didn’t ask for a specific drink. As she made her way back to you, she saw an interviewer interacting with you. She slowed her walking, and started listening to your conversation.

“Aren’t you a real beauty tonight, Miss (name)? Not that you aren’t all the time, haha!” His hand was on your shoulder, and he was very close to you. You didn’t seem bothered at all, though.

“Well thank you, Mister Zephyr. You’re too kind.”

“Oh please, Miss (name), call me Zeph.” He continued to flirt. Velvet felt anger built up in her. Who did that man think he was? But her anger subsided, and her heart sank at what you did next.

You layed your hand on top of his, and looked into his eyes. “Okay, well then you can just call he (name)!” Then you laughed. Your beautiful laugh. The one that always made Velvet’s heart happy. She felt her eyes start to water.

She rushed over to you, and basically shoved the drink into your hands. You tried to ask what was wrong, but she avoided eye contact. Velvet fled the main room, and made her way to a bathroom.

She cried. A lot. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. You looked so happy talking to that man. The look you gave him was so sweet and genuine. She had no chance against Zephyr.

~~~~

You had finally squeezed your way out of the crowd. You had to know what happened with Velvet. She looked so upset. You followed the direction you saw her leave in, but someone was still following you.

“Hey (name)! Where are you going?” Zephyr asked.

“I’m trying to find Velvet. She just left, and I-“

“Oh, you can worry about her later.” He interrupted, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you and I grab some champagne and get out of here? We could hang out in my car, just the two of us, what do you say?”

You were disgusted. You had tried your best to be nice to this man, even when he got uncomfortably close to you without your consent. Now, he completely ignored your ambitions, and tried to get you to go out with him.

You whipped your hand out of his. “I’m sorry, Zephyr, but I’m just not interested. What I am interested in is finding my friend. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave me be.” You quickly turned away, and continued what you were doing.

You had found a bathroom, and could faintly hear sobs on the other side of the door. You recognized that they belonged to Velvet.

You knocked on the door. “Vels? Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing! I’m fine!” She snapped back. “Why do you care anyway? Just go hang out with that guy. He seemed pretty interested in you.”

“Who, Zephyr? C’mon, Vels! I know you know that I can do better than that. Plus, he’s annoying. You’re much more fun to hang out with!”

The sobbing stopped. “Really? But you seemed so… happy with him.”

You sighed. “Yeah. I have to be that way with everyone. I don’t wanna seem rude. But I guess that backfired, because that made him think I was in love with him or something.” You laughed nervously.

There were a few moments of silence. Then, you decided to gather all your courage, and say something that’s been on your mind for a long time.

“So yeah, I don’t like him like that. But there is someone I do like.”

Velvet’s heart sank once again. She barely had any oxygen left in her lungs from crying to respond. “Who?”

“She’s on the other side of this door.” You nervously laughed. There was more silence, but it was eventually broken by the sound of the door unlocking.

It opened, and revealed Velvet. Her mascara was running down her face, and she had the most shocked expression you’ve ever seen. Without hesitating, you cupped her face, and kissed her. You felt relieved when she kissed back.

~~~~

You had helped Velvet get cleaned up, and you both decided that you’ve had enough of this event. You walked through the main room, towards the exit, hand in hand. People tried asking you questions, but you politely rejected them. All you cared about was getting to spend time with your new girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 4

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Jazz guided Jason through the halls to the library, it seemed to be in a different wing of the castle from where the living spaces were. When they reached a split between a hallway and a set of stairs she hesitated, placing a hand on one one of the banisters and turning to face him. She looked at him considering before nodding to herself and picking up her skirts to go up the stairs.

"We'll take a shortcut over the wall, because you're death-touched you can safely breathe the air without it overwhelming you with intense emotions and obsessive behavior." She said absentmindedly to him as if air that could cause such things were normal.

"Uh, glad for that then?" He said following her. She opened the door at the top of the stairs and strode outside, not even glancing at the absurd sky.

It was eerie to say the least, swirling Lazarus and emerald green with purples and blacks making the sky look like an oil slick. He expected the air of the dimension that contains all the afterlives to be colder, but it was pleasantly warm with a gentle breeze blowing by. If he closed his eyes he could imagine standing on a hill watching the clouds go by. On one side of the wall they were atop was a courtyard containing plants that Ivy would drool for, it was nearly as overrun as her greenhouse.

He noticed one of the towers had what appears to be an observatory, though he wasn't sure what besides doors, floating islands and general terrifying shapes they would see through it. "What's with the observatory?"

She glanced at it and gained a fond smile on her face. "That's Danny's. He always wanted to be an astronaut but circumstances prevented that. That telescope can connect to any telescope in our home universe. Even the ones in deep space. He's going to IRU right now for aerospace navigation. There's a dimension he was hoping to spend a couple years in before he has to take the crown that has intergalactic space travel as the norm." She seemed to light up when she spoke of her brother, obviously proud of him.

"Wait, Danny's who you're Regent for? Not a son?" Jason wouldn't have minded if she had a kid kicking around, but to find that the kid he met earlier is the future King of Everything In-between was surprising.

"Oh, yes, Right, I'll explain everything I can once we get to the library, it's just through here." Once inside again, she took brisk steps forward to doors directly across the hall. "Here we are, my favorite spot is just this way."

They stepped out onto a second floor balcony of a three story high library. Books spanned from floor to ceiling in a room the size of a small stadium. Shelves and tables made from a purple wood polished to a shine. Deep red velvet seats on all the chairs and couches in each of the reading spaces. Jason stood flabbergasted at the sheer volume of books present. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see a conspiratorial smile in teal eyes. "I had the same reaction when I first came here. Come on, my favorite spot to talk is this way."

They made their way to a corner of the library that had a pair of chairs, a tea table between them and a small fireplace, lit with a ghostly blue flame. They sat and she looked at the fire, then at him, then back at the fire and sighed heavily. She closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts before she spoke.

"Once upon a time there were three scientists in college who wanted to build a portal to the 'Ghost Zone' as they called it so they could study an research entities they referred to as 'ghosts'. Their definition being that any entity that produces, metabolizes or consumes the substance ectoplasm is a 'ghost'." She paused here, clasping her hands together and looking down at them. "There was an accident, I'm not going to go into too many details for now, but just know that one of the scientists became something more than human. The first of his kind in a millennia, a statistical improbability. Some things happened and he believed that he lost the only woman he could ever love to the man that caused him to become something other than human, to become partially one of the creatures they sought to capture and experiment on.

She glanced up and stared into the middle distance, remembering. "Twenty years pass and the two other scientists are now married with children. They've had a lab in their home since they graduated college at the top of their field in ectoscience. They have a daughter and a son, both are born ectocontaminated though they don't know for years later. They've been working on a new portal, this time bigger, large enough to fit a car through." She laughs lightly. "I remember coming down and shoving granola bars and thermoses filled with soup when they were on work binges, determined to get 'just a little bit more done Jazzy-pants, then we'll go to bed'" She gazed wistfully at the fire. "They usually did once they finished whatever food I brought to them, not wanting to have a repeat of the last time they left something with old food in it and it gained sentience and mass enough to chew a few hazmat boots."

She seemed lost for a moment before she cleared her throat. "Sorry, um, where was I?" She blinked before raising a hand up pointing at the ceiling. "Right, the portal. So they spent a good decade start to finish on it. It was going to be their crowning achievement, but when they plugged it in they saw some sparks, but nothing else happened." She folded her hands together on her lap. "They left for a weekend. Went to search for some cryptid they had been meaning to go find for years, but had put off to work on the portal. I was in charge for the weekend, a thing I was used to from whenever they were on design binges. Danny had his friends over and I was in my room studying. I had my headphones on, I don't even remember what band was playing, and I think I was working on chem homework?" She shook herself from the thought. "Anyway, there was this power surge, I remember just thinking that I was mad that it happened right during my favorite part of the song and I was singing into my pencil. When the lights went out, I had the usual expected dread in the pit of my stomach, but something felt especially frightening in this moment. I didn't have time to dwell on it, shaking it off as just being paranoid. I was more concerned with getting my music back on after that. I should have realized something had happened." She tightened her hands until the shook, pale knuckles stood out.

"I'm not telling you details, but there was another accident with a portal, this time it was Danny. He became something more than human. He became the second halfa in a millennia."

"Halfa?"

"Yes, Half human, half ghost. An anomaly, a myth, a statistical outlier. He walks the line between life and death. He will have many titles once he takes the throne, and one of those will be the Balance."

"Damn, that's a lot to put on a kid. How'd that happen?"

"I found out all of this second-hand mind you. I may have known his secret when it all happened, but he didn't know I knew yet."

"How'd he hide suddenly having powers? I don't expect he had particularly good control over them at first, I know several supers who didn't."

Jazz hung her head in shame. "I was too deep in my own head at that point. I was neck-deep in research on how to parent troubled teens because while I missed all his slips for power usage, I did not miss his decline in grades. Especially when the chemistry teacher approached me about the fact he kept 'dropping' equipment." She held up air quotes. "Turns out not being able to control tangibility can cause mass amounts of property damage, who knew?" she shrugged her shoulders.

"So basically, the original halfa guy from earlier managed to gain wealth and power using his powers in increasingly shady ways. He also grew obsessed with my mom and blamed my dad for turning him into a halfa. He wanted revenge. He invited us all to a college reunion where he found out about Danny. Things happened and they became nemeses with Vlad wanting Danny to denounce our father and become his son with my mom at his side. You're allowed to say ew, it was very ew for a long time." She laughed at his scrunched up face. "Anyway, he finds out about ancient ghostly artefacts that are supposed to give the user unimaginable power, and finds out where they are. He finds out they are locked away with the former King of the Realms, and he expects to be able to just grave rob the ruler of the Infinite. He manages to get the Ring before Pariah wakes up, and somehow manages to escape back to out home dimension. All ghosts flee the Realms through the most stable portal available; the one in my family basement. This causes alerts to go out all across the town and my parents put up defenses for people to huddle under during everything. Some stuff happened and it ended up leading to Danny taking a suit our parents had built and defeating the former King Pariah Dark and sealing him away in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.

"Infinite Realms Law dictates that if the leader is defeated in single combat, and the combatant continues after said encounter, then they are to be crowned High Royal and any family members gain royal titles as well. Danny is, however, too young for his classification. He is too young by human years, he must be twenty-one for that, and too young for halfa standards, he must be a halfa for a decade. He won't be of the majority for at least another five years, and then he must have it on the following solstice. Until that time, he is High Prince and must work on learning leadership and combat skills." She gazed calmly at him, resigned for her brother's fate.

"So how'd you end up Regent?" She sighed and closed her eyes, shoulders dropping.

"We had a council for a while, the Council of Ancients, new and old working alongside the Observants. It worked for a little while, but something happening in my home dimension was causing issues. You see, the ghost problem in our town after the portal opened became a pretty big issue when property damage resulted in the thousands and you can't bill the dead. Danny was doing his best to fight off as much as he could, but he wasn't trained and was very new to his powers. It didn't help that our parents were shooting at him while he was trying to save people." She grumbled and Jason's hands tightened to fists.

"What do you mean they shot at him?" He asked as evenly as he could. He could feel the tinges of old hurts coming to the surface. A Batarang to the throat.

"They never hit him, he dodged every time. They didn't know it was him. They thought it was just a ghost, and to them, all ghosts were evil. They had a lot of bias in the majority of their research, but as soon as they found out who he was they immediately changed tack. They had Danny stay at Vlad's for a weekend, which was it's own can of worms, while they disarmed the house and set everything to ignore his ecto signature." She looked thoughtful. "Apparently Vlad wasn't a complete jerk that weekend either, Danny told him what they found out and Vlad, worried for the second of his species, actually helped him through some emotions and helped him train some. I think it's what started on his redemption actually."

Jason breathed out heavily letting his rage dissipate. "You keep saying 'the second' instead of the 'the only'. There are more?" He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, yes, there's Ellie and Dante. Ellie is my younger sister, she's a clone of Danny Vlad made, and Dante is an evil alternate timeline version of Danny and Vlad that fused together and is inhabiting a clone of Danny Vlad wasn't able to pull into consciousness." She let him digest that for a moment.

Jason choked out a laugh. "Man, and I thought my sibling situation was weird."

Jazz's eyes narrowed, appraising him almost like a predator eyeing prey. "Hmm. We'll discuss your family situation later." She cleared her throat gathering her thoughts. "Anyway, so the property damage led to the government getting involved. More specifically a branch known as the Ghost Investigation Ward or GIW for short. They were founded on the first research papers my parents produced which were heavily biased against ecto-entities on a whole. They were extremely prejudiced against ghosts.

"They started out as a nuisance. Someone easily distracted by getting their suits dirty or faulty equipment. Then the Anti-Ecto Acts were ratified. Then they got bolder. They paid my parents a fake amount of money to buy the house as-is with the portal. They planned to send a nuke in to destroy the Realms believing it to be full of horrendous monsters. Thankfully the nuke was a dud model and someone definitely got fired that day in ordering. But after that they just started to get worse and worse. They were starting to go after anyone who pinged on their detectors, which were just getting more and more precise as time went on.

"Here's the thing about Amity Park, my hometown. It was founded by witches fleeing the witch trials. It sits at the crossing between ley lines, and it's always been a spot that the veil was thin. Ectoplasm would leak through natural portals that popped up from time to time. Add a stable portal to the mix? The entire town was now ectocontaminated. They were now classified as liminal. They were now death-touched enough that they pinged on the GIW's equipment. They began raiding people's homes, accusing them of harboring ghosts. Danny's entire home room got taken in for questioning one day, they had set up little interrogation rooms like a blood drive in the gymnasium." She chuckled darkly. "They got so close so many times, too many times." Her left hand clenched into a fist.

"My parents found out about Danny when the raids first started. He'd decided it was time to come clean because it was only a matter of time before they came knocking at our door. Thankfully, they came while Danny was at Vlad's and they never had the guts to storm the billionaire's house. I managed to avoid detection by wearing a Specter-Deflector and my parents were always in their hazmat suits so they didn't ping either. Things got worse, Danny had to beg the Council to make an edict to not come through the portal for the foreseeable future.

"It didn't work, various beings saw it as a challenge. They began to lose faith in their future ruler. If he couldn't protect his little town and the people in it, how was he supposed to protect them? It was a common sentiment. It was something I grew tired of hearing during one particular fight." She stared at the blue flames of the fireplace, not seeing the flickering light. "Danny was down. Mom and Dad and Vlad were fighting together to both capture the ghost before they could do more damage and stop the GIW from capturing another ghost to experiment on and dispose of. The ghost was the fourth one that week spouting the same bullshit." She spat the word out like a curse, growling before looking into the middle distance with sad eyes. Softly, she spoke, "There was an explosion." She blinked, coming back to focus. My parents were down. My youngest siblings were now fighting. I made a decision." She squared her shoulders and tightened her jaw, determination filling out her features. "I had been helping Danny study to become King, I had read up on all the important laws. I took the Specter Speeder to the council chambers. I stood before them and declared as the eldest and therefore heir and head of the Nightingale family, the Royal family, and that I was at the majority for my classification, I would be taking the title of Regent until Danny reached his majority. I took the Crown and the Ring and my own suit and went to the fight.

"I told Dante and Ellie to get Danny and go, there was nothing that could be done for our parents. I subdued and contained the ghost and then beat back the GIW until they were at the borders of Amity. Then, using power I had just gained, I pulled the entire town into the Infinite Realms." She held out her hands, gesturing to the general vicinity.

He sat with that for a moment. "Wait, wait wait, you're just gonna skim over the fact your parents died?"

Jazz's eyes hardened. "Never." Her eyes glowed yellow for a moment and her hair seemed to float a bit when she said the word. "I just met you, and it's still a sore wound, I'd rather not get into it if that's alright with you." She held herself rigid as if expecting him to press the issue.

"Whoa, it's okay, nevermind, touchy subject, I get it. Most people I know have their parents as a touchy subject. Especially dead ones." He kept his posture open, slouching a little to show he didn't mean to pry.

She hummed thoughtfully, appraising him once more. "So, I told you my story, earlier you told me some of yours. I think that's enough sharing for one day. I don't know about you, but I am very tired. If you like, you may stay here. Just ring the bell on the mantle and Jeeves will be here to assist you. If not, I'd be glad to walk you back to the guest rooms, they are down the hall from the family rooms." She stood and waited for his response.

"Um, yeah, let's walk back together. I had a couple questions about some of the books in my room?" They walked and talked together as they made their way towards the bedrooms. They parted ways with a promise to read the same book and give each other feedback on it in a week.

"Well, this is me." He said awkwardly indicating the hall his room was in, hers was in the opposite hall.

"Yup, I'm not sure when I'll get the chance to see you tomorrow, I have a full day up until dinner, but I'll see you then?" She looked inquiringly at him.

"Yeah, definitely! See you tomorrow!" He said and turned down the hall. He jogged until he got to the door, opened it and then leaned against it falling to the floor. "Okay, so I may not have entirely screwed this up, but man, she's been through a lot already. Do I want to add my shit to it?" He thought to himself, spiraling until he was clutching his hair. He growled and stood up, then stalked towards the bed and flopped down on it, back first this time.

"I mean, I might be stuck here, so would my baggage really matter that much?" He laid there for a moment before deciding to get ready for bed. Once laying down again, he kept thinking of all the different ways he as a person could fuck this or her up if he pursued a relationship. He worried himself to sleep that night.

[ingravinoveritas]

Just wanted to share a few thoughts on the BAFTAs today, now that I've had a bit of time to process the day's events (and am no longer running around cooking Mother's Day dinner)...

I feel like this was a sort of roller coaster of an event, as so many of us were hoping/expecting to see Michael on the red carpet, given David's nomination for playing Crowley in GO 2. In many ways, it was strange and even jarring to see David without Michael, especially while wearing such a gloriously Crowley-coded suit, but mainly because they are now truly a group of the two of them, a packaged set, peanut butter and chocolate.

And yet, seeing David talking about Good Omens and Michael (referring specifically to the Michelle Visage interview, which I adored just because of how they vibed together, in much the same way that Michael was vibing with Sir Ian McKellen on Graham Norton a few months ago), the way he teased the possibility of more kisses in S3 and so effortlessly ran with Michelle saying "Michael Sheen kisses" instead of "Aziraphale and Crowley kisses"...all of that made it feel like Michael was present. Like whatever mark he and David left on each other after the last six months was fully and completely visible without being visible.

I also loved seeing David so brimming over with confidence and self-assurance--something that wasn't there specifically because of Michael or Georgia or anyone else, but because of David himself. I feel like said qualities are most especially apparent in this gorgeous picture:

We talk so much about the suits and how Joshua Kane or Mithridate dress him so exquisitely, but I think something that gets overlooked sometimes is that what makes these suits look as beautiful as they do is David himself. The way he carries himself when he wears them, and how there seems to be such a perfect congruity between how he feels on the inside and how he looks on the outside. Again, this is not saying that David hasn't worn flamboyant or flashy suits in the past (the velvet ones of course come to mind), but there definitely seems to be something special about him wearing these suits, at this specific moment in time.

I also really loved one particular photo of him with the suit jacket off/sleeves rolled up. Again, it's not only the clothes themselves (and how gorgeously they hang on him), but also how it felt like a moment of just...letting go of something. It also immediately brought to mind the photo of Michael with his bow tie undone at the NTAs after party in 2021:

(Granted I'm fairly certain David is tipsy/a bit drunk in the photo on the left, but somehow that damn hint of a bare forearm felt as daring and racy as seeing an ankle in the Victorian era...)

As to what David was "letting go" of, we can't know for sure, but it looked like something was released, and that he was just so fully present and being himself on the red carpet. I'm so proud of him, so delighted by this new, carefree David that I don't think we've ever seen before, but that I absolutely do hope we will continue to see in the future.

Those are my thoughts on the 2024 TV BAFTAs, for whatever they may be worth. I'd love to know what you all thought of David on the red carpet, and if anyone else noticed some of these things, too...