#hm. decisions. i am bad at them.

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you��re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

[rrrrinmaru]

calculated risk (but boy am i bad at math) (sylus x mc) (nsfw)

wc: 4.3k rating: E warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, blowjobs, skull fucking, orgasm denial, slight spanking (ass and pussy) brief: you lose a bet to sylus and you have to do whatever he wants for 24 hours // part 2 here

It starts, as most things do with Sylus, an incredibly poor decision on your part. 

It can’t be helped—when Sylus smirks at you, one eyebrow raised as he gives you a challenging look, you know it’s only going to end in either one of both ways. You taking him up on the bet, or the both of you in a training room with you trying your damned best to figure out how many bones of his you can break.

This time, he hadn’t even disclosed what the prize would be. “Patience, dollface,” he murmured when you told him to lay the terms out upfront. “Isn’t it fun when you don’t know everything?”

“And I suppose it’s fun for you to keep me in the dark?” Control freak, you thought to yourself, but the bet was simple and there was no way you would lose. 

Sylus had shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless pretense. 

It didn’t matter. You were confident. You were going to win.

==

“I gotta go with A,” Luke says slowly, smacking his lips as he speaks. “I like the spices. No clue what’s in it though—pepper, and er, I’m going to go with cinnamon? Or something similar?”

You could strangle him. Who the fuck puts cinnamon in tomato and eggs? You didn’t even see Sylus go near that section of the spice cabinet. 

“Do you even know what cinnamon tastes like?” You can’t help but ask. 

Luke licks his lips again. “Yeah, I ate a whole spoonful of cinnamon once because Kieran dared me to, and I was out of it for days. Boss got really mad, haha, remember that?”

Sylus sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He choked,” he says unhelpfully when you look to him for more information. 

“He exhaled cinnamon for what felt like hours after that,” Kieran notes from the side. “I wanted to get a scan of his lungs to see how tainted from cinnamon they were, but Boss grounded us.”

“Anyways, it may not be cinnamon, but it’s definitely a c-something,” Luke declares confidently. “I like it. A is the winner for me.”

“Cilantro,” Kieran tells him. You can’t read his expression through the fox mask, but you like to think he’s rolling his eyes. There’s exasperation in his voice that reeks of an older brother forced to reckon with the stupidity of a younger sibling, an unstoppable force crashing headfirst into an immovable object. 

Luke snaps his fingers, leaning forward to spoon another mouth of scrambled egg into his mouth. “It’s good. Who made this one?”

“I have to vote first,” Kieran reminds him. “But I’ll go with A too. It’s saltier. I prefer things with a stronger taste.”

“Hm.” Sylus turns to look at you, cocking his head. “It appears we have a unanimous decision. Our fear of needing a tie-breaker game didn’t even materialise.”

You stay silent. Your arms are folded across your chest, and you get the errant thought of whether you could stamp on his shoe hard enough to break his big toe. Probably not, but giving up without even trying is a defeatist attitude. 

“Woah,” Luke says, looking furiously between the both of you. “Boss made this?”

Kieran suddenly goes very silent. He brings a fist up to his mouth and starts coughing lightly, but he also resembles a cat attempting to cough up a hairball.

“I did,” Sylus replies, looking quite pleased. “Surprised?”

“Er,” Luke says simply. “Er, congrats. Kieran, do you know how to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre?”

Kieran coughs again. “I’ll do it on you if you do it on me first.”

“Deal.” Luke hurries to stand, his chair screeching against the floorboards from the strength of his push. “Can we excuse ourselves? Our role here is done, right?”

Sylus jerks his head at the exit, and the both of them scramble to the door. As they leave, you think you can hear Luke mutter something that sounds like “I didn’t know I would like soapy eggs, but there’s a first for everything, right?”

Kieran shoves him in the shoulder in response as they both leave. And Kieran goes to great pains to ensure the door is closed, firmly, behind him. 

“Let me try that,” you demand, reaching for Luke’s chopsticks left on the edge of the plate. 

A strand of twisting red energy wraps around your wrist, yanking it to a stop.

“There are clean chopsticks,” Sylus chides. From across the kitchen, a covered bowl and a pair of chopsticks are brought over by tendrils of red and black energy. 

He leans back, hips pressed against the counter as he collects the bowl and chopsticks. The lid lifts of its own accord and floats over to rest on the nearby countertop. 

Sylus picks up a piece of egg and holds it out to you.

“… You made a separate serving for me?” 

“I had my suspicions. If I won, you would have demanded a taste test to ensure I didn’t rig the competition.” Sylus tilts his head, as if daring you to disagree. “Was I right?”

Instead of answering, you lean forward to take the piece of egg into your mouth. Your lips close around the end of the chopsticks, and you stay like that for a moment, looking up at Sylus from under your eyelashes. 

Sylus’ gaze deepens. 

You pull off, leaving the chopsticks wet with your saliva as you chew on the food in your mouth. It’s good. Pretty good. Salty, but in a good way. It would go excellently with a fresh bowl of rice.

You’re actually kind of irritated. Why is Sylus good at making scrambled eggs and tomato? Did he pencil that into his busy schedule—illicit trading activities at 10 am, cooking lessons at 12 pm, a shoot out in a back alleyway at 3 pm, and prowling the streets of the N109 Zone from 11 pm to 4 am like some kind of avenger?

“It’s not bad,” you admit mulishly. “But it’s not better than my cooking. I’d say it’s at the same level.”

“Crowd opinion begs to differ. There’s no shame in losing to someone better, sweetie.”

Oh, you’ve just about had it with him. But a bet is a bet, and Sylus won without any obvious cheats. Luke enjoying the soapy taste of cilantro is something you could never have predicted; if Sylus used this fact to his advantage, you can’t even hold a grudge against him. You would have done the same.

“Give me that,” you say, holding a hand out for the bowl and chopsticks. “So, what’s the prize?”

Sylus doesn’t hand you the bowl immediately. He puts the chopsticks into his mouth, licking them clean before dipping them into the bowl again and picking out another piece of egg. He holds it out.

You lean forward, of course, lips parted as you expect him to feed it to you.

Instead, he turns the chopsticks around and places the egg into his mouth. He hums as he chews on it, nodding like he’s pleased at the taste. 

You snap your jaw shut. You give him a dirty look, pressing forward to brace your palms against the countertop, on either side of his hips. Like this, he’s trapped. 

Your chest is pressed up against him. Your hips align with his. You go on the balls of your feet, forcing him to lift the bowl and chopsticks higher so he doesn’t hit you in the face.

“You think you’re so funny,” you grumble, staring him down. “Bet, reward, now. Tell me what it is so I can be mentally prepared.”

Sylus doesn’t respond at first. He glances down at you, amusement written all over his face, and lets go of the bowl. Strands of energy catch it, bringing it to rest on the counter behind him. The chopsticks are brought along as well, leaving him empty handed.

“You’re standing in a dangerous position.” He puts the knuckle of his index finger under your chin to tilt your head up. “If you offer yourself up like this, I’ll take advantage.”

He tilts his hips forward, rolling intently against your abdomen. The prominent bulge presses into your lower stomach, right above where your womb is, and you flush scarlet.

You move to pull back, but Sylus moves one hand lightning fast, reaching behind to cup the curve of your ass and pressing you even tighter against the hard line of his arousal through his slacks.

He even squeezes, eyebrows rising in a challenging fashion as he waits to see how you’ll respond. 

You know he just wants to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately, it’s working. Your insides clench uncontrollably, wanting to cling tightly to something. 

Somehow, Sylus always succeeds at making you feel empty.

“As if you don’t take advantage on the daily.” You shift your stance until your thighs are spread around Sylus’s leg. He watches you adjust yourself, that mildly interested look affixed on his face as you straddle his thigh. 

Once you’re satisfied, you roll your hips forward, grinding down on the thick thigh to put pressure against your core. It’s a syrupy heat, starting from your tailbone and crawling up your spine. You press further into Sylus’s growing hardness, and he lets out a pleasant hum, tilting his head back to soak in the weight against his cock.

His fingers tighten against your ass. His grip is heavy, holding you tightly enough that you wonder if they’ll leave bruises against your skin. Five pretty bruises, black and blue on your ass. 

“Harder,” he coaxes hoarsely. “You can do better than that. What are they teaching Hunters these days?”

Your thighs squeeze threateningly around him. But that puts pressure on your clit, making pleasure surge deliciously inside you and you do it again—Sylus seems to catch on and he pulls you along the length of his thigh with the hand on your ass.

“Definitely not how to ride the unspoken ruler of the N109 Zone,” you shoot back breathlessly.

He lets out a startled laugh. “You flatter me, sweetie.”

“Stop evading the question,” you remind him, even as you steadily roll your hips against his thigh. Slow, regular grinds as you rub your cunt against his pants. You wonder if your pussy is wet enough to leak through your panties. You wonder if your panties are drenched, sticking to your thighs. You wonder if you’re making his pants damp, and whether he can feel it leaking through to his skin.

Judging from the way he suddenly grips your ass with more force at a particularly smooth slide, you think he might. 

“Remind me, what question were we speaking of?”

“Bet. Reward.” You slide one hand across his abdomen, stopping right over his belt buckle. The nail of your index finger catches against the metal—this isn’t the first time you’ve wished you had some kind of Evol that involved the manipulation of metal. “Want me to go on my knees?”

The pad of his thumb smooths over your lower lip. 

“Should I put this cute mouth to good use? I think I should,” Sylus murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. “But let’s talk about the bet first. The reward is simple.”

His other hand skates lightly along your outer thigh. Light as a feather, his fingers skimming along your skin so gently that it makes you itch. You almost want him to press hard, the same way he’s gripping your ass, instead of this light, itchy sensation spreading across your body. 

His fingers creep up, running under the hem of your dress. They trace the edge of your panties, nails scratching faintly against the cotton. 

“I get to do whatever I want with you for the next twenty-four hours,” he says, voice curling with satisfaction. His eyes are creased slightly, the smile sinking through his gaze. As if to drive his point home, he pointedly looks you up and down, dragging his gaze over every inch of your body. 

He’s lucky. If you were still clear-headed, you would have scoffed and told him to change the bet. Sylus might have convinced you after a while, but it would have taken time. At least half an hour of convincing, you reckon, with lips on your neck and fingers down your panties to get you worked up enough to say yes to a bet as insane as that.

Twenty-four hours? To do whatever he wants? 

Now, with your drenched pussy and your throbbing clit, both just begging for attention from him—this plan sounds pretty good. With the way his fingers playfully run across your panties, the tip of his thumb glancing off your swollen clit then darting away, as if it was an accident, as if he didn’t intend to do that, when you both know damn well he’s very acquainted with your clit—

“Go on,” you gasp, chasing after his sly fingers. Pressure, you need more pressure. If he squeezes your clit between his fingers, even through the wet cotton of your panties, it might be enough. “What do you want me to do?”

“Choices, choices. That mouth looks hungry for something, doesn’t it?” He presses his thumb into your clit harshly, making your body jerk at the sudden burst of electricity that surges through you. Sylus rubs it languidly, watching you shiver on his thigh, then he draws that hand away and brings it to his face. 

You watch, pupils dilated and mouth open as he lifts his thumb to his nose and inhales deeply. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting as he rubs the pad of his thumb on his tongue. Behind you, his other hand flexes, tightening his hold on your ass. 

“Mm,” he hums, slowly opening his eyes to look at you. “Delicious as always, sweetie. You’ve completely wet your panties.”

“Sylus,” you whine, pulling insistently at his belt. “Tell me what you want, or I’ll just do whatever I want to do.”

“How naughty. Thinking of breaking the rules of the bet this early?” His hand leaves your ass and you almost move to slide off, but there’s a sudden sharp sound and a stinging pain—your cheeks turn red at how that spank made your insides tighten up. “On your knees, dollface. Show me what that talented mouth of yours can do.” 

You go, the tips of your ears blushing when you see the blatant wet spot on his slacks your greedy pussy left on him.

==

Sylus uses your mouth like a fleshlight. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty, mouth open and wet, teeth hidden behind your lips as he holds your head in place and fucks into your mouth. Saliva pools in your mouth, your tongue numb from how loose you’re trying to keep your muscles. You just need to be there, fingers locked around Sylus’ ankles, knees spread on the ground and your arousal dripping on the floorboards—

“Good girl,” Sylus croons, head tilting back to expose the long line of his neck as his hips snap forward. “So fucking obedient for me, aren’t you? Tongue out, sweetie, let my cock slide right in—mmhmm, that’s right, you know what I like, don’t you?”

His fingers are tangled in your hair. There’s no gentleness in the way he holds you there—his grip on your hair is tight, your strands circling his fingers at least twice. He’d stroked your hair right at the beginning, when you were sliding to your knees and dragging the zipper of his pants down with your teeth. Then he’d wound your hair around four of his fingers once, twice, twisting his wrist, pulling sharply so you’d feel the strain at your scalp as you licked up the length of his cock. 

He’d told you to clean it up, so you did. You flattened your tongue along the thick line of his cock and you dragged it up, eyelashes fluttering as you traced the fat protruding vein under the head of his cock. You got his cock nice and slick, shiny from spit and precum. 

And now he’s fucking into your mouth, salty precum dripping down your throat as your cunt clenches around nothing. He grunts, a low punched-out sound that makes your clit throb. You’re the reason he looks so disheveled, sleeves rolled up messily to his elbows, slacks pulled open just enough for you to slip his cock out and suck on it—

The worst thing about Sylus, you think in a haze, the heavy weight of a fat cock in your mouth so all-encompassing that you don’t have many brain cells left for clear thought, is that he loves to talk. He can’t keep his fucking mouth shut, especially during sex. 

“Look at you,” he pants, voice gravelly from arousal. His thrusts are becoming more haphazard, losing the regularity from seconds ago. There’s a familiar stutter and his cock pulses on your tongue, the fat head going so far down your throat you almost seize up, but you hold it back. You can take it. You want to take it. “Do you want it in your throat or on your face?”

You make a noise, the sound muffled from Sylus’ cock. He laughs, a breathless sound, and the ache in your scalp intensifies. Oh, he’s close. 

“You’ll have to speak up, dollface.”

The whine that leaves your lips is louder this time, your fingers tightening around Sylus’ ankles. If your nails dig into the skin, leaving trails of scratch marks, all it does is make Sylus groan, hips jerking as he slams into your throat. 

“Hm, I can’t hear you,” he notes, eyes glinting as he looks down at you. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? You have to take whatever I give you, sweetie. Open that throat up for me, nice and pretty—ngh, fuck—”

You bare your teeth just enough to scrape the underside of Sylus’ cock. He’s not afraid to mix his pain with his pleasure, and the sting of teeth biting at his sensitive length while he fucks into your face is something he’s told you is addictive. You know he likes it. You know it makes him tremble, and you see it in his crimson eye when he hunches over, abdomen tightening as his cock twitches. 

“Close,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Suck on it, sweetie. You have to work for the reward you want. I don’t—haaah, fuck, I don’t give handouts.”

You obey, eyes closing instinctively as you suck on his cock. His cock is leaking badly, precum sliding down your throat. You swear you can feel the head of his cock all the way down, right to the base of your throat, right at your clavicle. It truly feels like he’s hitting it that deep, bruising the insides of your mouth and throat until you won’t be able to eat right or breathe right for days. 

You swallow desperately, throat working furiously around the head of his cock, that tight wet heat that drives him crazy, and he bites out a curse as his hips jerk forward, cock throbbing as come spills into your mouth. 

He doesn’t let up. He keeps fucking into your mouth, hips pumping as he slides his cock back and forth on your tongue. You suck at his cock, swallowing mouthful and mouthful of come down your throat. Your entire world narrows to a pinpoint, to the grounding weight of his pulsing cock on your tongue, the ache in your mouth, the sting of your scalp—there might be tears in your eyes, or sweat from overexertion, but your vision is blurry when you look up and watch Sylus watch you. 

Sylus watches you with hooded eyes, mouth open as he pants for air. His lips curve up when he sees you open your eyes, looking down at you with a pleased expression while he rides out the aftershocks in your wet mouth. 

“How obedient,” he says, breathing heavily as he lets one hand go and moves to stroke the side of your mouth with his thumb. He cups your jaw, wiping away a trail of spit from your lips, then reaches down to follow the outline of his cock in your throat. “Swallow.”

You swallow, and his eyes darken as your throat bobs around his cock. He must be able to feel it on both ends—his cock, trapped in that endless wet heat; his fingers, feeling the movement of your muscles under your skin, feeling his heartbeat in his cock through your throat. 

He continues fucking your mouth until the spurts of come finally taper off. Even then, he seems content to let his cock stay in your mouth, rubbing along the textured roof of your mouth and against the scrape of your teeth. 

Eventually, he pulls back. Sylus’ cock leaves your lips, inch by inch, until his back is against the counter again and only the tip of his cock is left in your mouth.

You can’t help it. Now that there’s more space, you move your tongue instinctively, curving it along the over-sensitive head of his cock and licking into the slit. 

Your eyes are trained carefully on Sylus’ face as you do this. He shudders, lips spreading in a smile even as his grip tightens in your hair. 

He gives you this look, half-lidded eyes and a lazy, satisfied smile as you mouth at his cock. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely, pulling your hair until your mouth slides off his cock. It bobs in front of you, still half-hard, and you risk your luck with lapping at the fat cockhead. 

Sylus stops you by yanking your head back even further. He pulls up, forcing you to your feet, then he unwinds his fingers and smooths your hair down. 

You pant lightly, trying to get your breathing under control. Your mouth feels like one big bruise, and you clear your throat before even attempting to speak. Your voice is going to sound completely fucked, you know, and some part of you revels in it. That you’ll walk around sounding like someone just brutalised your throat, because someone did. 

Sylus doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, the long line of his body stretching out before you as he drops one hand to cup your waist. You eye him, then eye the slowly growing stiffness of his cock—when you look back up, he has that familiar, smug challenging look on his face, like he wants to see what you’ll do next. 

Oh, you know what you want. You take his free hand and bring it under the rucked up hem of your dress. Your panties are sticky with arousal, and you’re certain you leaked enough fluid for his cock to slide in without any stretching, but you like fingers in your cunt. You like Sylus’ fingers in your cunt, specifically. 

Thick and callused fingers, broad enough that two of them feel like four of yours. You like the way they can hunt down that sensitive spot inside you with deadly precision, and you like the way he taps insistently at it like he’s pulling a trigger on a target. You like it when he crooks his fingers inside you and finger you stupid while his thumb flicks insistently at your clit. 

You even pull your drenched panties to the side so Sylus can slip his fingers in. You’re being so accommodating, so sweet and nice and obedient, all hopped up on endorphins from having a cock in your mouth and watching Sylus come—

He runs his index and middle finger through the seam of your pussy, gathering up your sticky wetness. He reaches up to pinch your clit, finding it with shocking accuracy even though his hand is hidden beneath your skirt, and you let out a surprised moan, your knees shaking from the pleasure that bursts inside you. You are going over the edge the moment he sinks those clever fingers inside you, you just know it.

But he draws his hand away. You’re so shocked that you let him do it, let him pull his hand away and bring it to his face again, almost an exact copy of what happened earlier. You watch, pussy clenching around nothing as he presses those two fingers together and pulls them apart, letting thin silvery strands of your arousal stretch in between the fingertips. 

Sylus rubs them together again, then puts those fingers in his mouth. He looks at you, holding your gaze as he sucks on them, throat visibly moving as he swallows. 

“Sweet,” he notes, nodding in approval. “A sample before the main course.”

You stare blankly at him. Your clit is throbbing, desperate for attention. “Sylus,” you demand, reaching for his hand again. “I want—”

“I know what you want.” His hand cups your exposed pussy. His palm is hot, heat radiating off his skin as he rubs slowly along your slick cunt. “But for the next twenty-four hours, you’re at my mercy.”

He slaps your pussy, so suddenly that it makes you yelp, both hands reaching out to grip his bicep in a bid to stabilise yourself. It stings, so pleasantly that it makes your clit tingle—you want more of it, more of everything and anything, as long as he makes you come. You’re so close it’s not even funny. One more slap could push you over the edge, as long as he does it hard enough and right across your twitching, swollen clit—

“Go take a shower,” Sylus suggests, eyes dark as he stares you down. “I’ll find you when I want to, dollface.”

“You—!” 

His smirk just makes the heat in your gut flare up. You want nothing more than to push him on his back and straddle that face, wipe that smile off with your cunt and force him to eat you out until you’re shaking from overstimulation and crying over his tongue. 

But a bet is a bet. And you respect the sanctity of a reward, even if it frustrates you to no end. 

“You are infuriating,” you hiss, and stalk off to find a change of clothes.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Shy One

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: a night out ends in an embarrassing encounter.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It feels like you’re seeing the world through tinted glass. The low lights, the buzz of voices, and the subtle clink of glasses feed the haze around you. That and the cocktail in your hand. Just ice now. Your second. You’re surprised how easily it went down. 

“Want another?” Mikayla asks as you play with the thin straw. 

“Maybe not yet,” you shrug. 

She grins at Alina, “lightweight?” 

The other women laugh. You’re too embarrassed to admit it but you are. In fact, it’s the first time you’ve ever tasted alcohol. If they don’t mock you for confessing, they wouldn’t believe you. 

“So happy you came out,” Katy grins. 

“Yeah, too bad you didn’t make the work mixer last month,” Lu says. 

“Hm, yeah, I just... I couldn’t make it,” you chew your lip. 

“Mmm, Mik,” Katy purrs, “you seeing what I’m seeing?” 

Katy tilts her head and Mikayla follows her gaze. Alina and Lu do the same and you dare to peek after them. There’s a table of men across the bar. There timbre forms a dulcet drone amid the din. 

“Sexy, look at that beard.” Alina slithers 

“Which one?” Lu giggles. 

You shift and look down at your glass. You wrap both your hands around it and squirm. They said it was just work drinks. You don’t want to be dealing with strangers. 

“Oh, honey, loosen up,” Alina grabs your starched collar and pops the top button. “You have another one of those and you’ll be dancing on the table.” 

“Um,” you lean away from her, “maybe. Erm, I need to go to the restroom.” 

“Boo, too early to break the seal,” Katy whines. 

“Sorry,” you apologise and stand. 

You take your glass with you and as you turn, you stop short as your eyes meet another pair. One of the men from the crowded table catches you in his gaze. You gulp and quickly lower your chin. You hurry on to the bar and set your empty glass on it. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

“Oh, thanks,” the man behind it swipes it away. “The waitress coulda grabbed that.” 

“Oh, now worries,” you show a palm and turn to find the restroom. 

You head down the hallway behind the bright blue sign. You dip into the ladies and claim a stall. As nice as it is to release the pressure, it’s even nicer to get a breather. You’re not the bar type. Not a drinker or a dancer, as much as Alina keeps suggesting it. You’re a total square. Thirty years old and you’ve never done anything more fun than laser tag. 

You wash your hands and leave the bathroom reluctantly. The music seems louder as you come out, the voices too. As you enter the barroom, you slow down. You’re mortified to find Alina and Katy in the open space, dancing. Grinding against each other. 

You stand there, frozen and embarrassed. The other women at the table cheer them on lewdly. You don’t know what to do. Sitting with Lu and Mikayla would draw as much attention as joining the dancing. This doesn’t seem like the place for that. 

Maybe it’s time for you to go. You’re feeling a bit cloudy and your eyes are fuzzy. You’ve been up since five in the morning. 

You slowly cross the space but have to dodge as Alina spins out and nearly crashes into you. In an effort to avoid her, you hit the side of a table, bouncing off of it and staggering until you fall onto something soft. Thank gosh you managed to find a seat in your descent. 

“Mmph,” the grunt greets you with the firm cushion beneath you, “y’alright, doll?” 

You look over in horror at the man who’s lap you sit upon. How embarrassing!! You look around at the other men at the table as it dawns on you. This is the worst crash landing you can imagine. 

You gasp and peer back at the man who serves as your chair. He’s terrifyingly handsome. His eyes are so blue and his jaw is chiseled beneath his dark beard. His brown hair curtains down around his cheekbones and his cheek dimples in amusement. 

“I’m so sorry,” you wriggle against him as he spreads his large hand across your back. “I tripped. I didn’t man to—oh gosh.” 

You touch your scalding forehead and try to shimmy out of his lap. It’s useless as you can’t get much of a stronghold. You just manage to ground your butt down on him. 

“You okay there?” He runs his fingertips up your spine and sends a shiver through you. 

“I’m--- sorry!” You gulp out again. “Please, I’m--” you grab the corner of the table and manage to haul yourself up. “I’m so...” you shake your head and bluster. You’re burning in humiliation. You can feel the other men watching you. “Ugh.” 

You turn and scurry around Alina and Katy. You quickly gather up your purse and coat as the women at the table laugh. “Oh, honey, why don’t you give him a nice ride,” Lu teases. 

You blanch at her and makes a face, “I didn’t mean to--” 

“Oh, chill,” Mikayla chides. “Really, it was funny. Where are you going?” 

“Home,” you exclaim. “Stop laughing at me. You’ve been laughing at me all night.” 

Lu scoffs, “well, you’re a bit silly, aren’t you? Act like you’ve never touched a man or a drink before.” 

You frown and flutter your lashes against the singe of hot tears. This is why you always say no. Why you are always ‘busy’. You don’t fit in. You’re better off alone. 

You hug your coat and bag and hurry across the bar. You push through the door and stagger out into the night with a sniffle. Oh joy, work is going to be even worse. Now they’re going to sit around and cackle at you instead of Wendy and her tacky dresses. 

You look around, searching for your bearings. You need to find a cab and get out of here. You see once coming down the pavement. You shift your things into one arm and throw your other up. The taxi steers towards the sidewalk but picks up another pedestrian further down. 

You huff and crane in search of another escape. 

“Hey, doll,” a rocky voice calls over the hinges of the bar door. “Where’re you off to?” You continue to peer down the street, frightened as you feel a gentle nudge on your elbow, “hey, talking to you. You didn’t even give me a name after you sat right on me.” 

You flinch and reel away from him, “huh? What? Oh, I’m sorry. That was just... clumsy.” 

“Ah, it’s fine. Really. It was funny,” he assures you. “I’m not making fun of you. Just, a pretty girl falls right in my lap then runs away, I kinda gotta wonder...” 

“Umph?” You furrow your brow, “you’re making fun of me too.” 

“Why would I do that?” He tilts his head. “Come back inside. Let me by you a drink.” You shake your head and wave your hand past him at another yellow cab. He chuckles softly, “you don’t gotta be shy.” 

“I don’t know you,” you insist. 

“I’m tryna fix that,” he counters. 

“Really, I just wanna go home,” you whine as the taxi drives by without stop. 

“Right, let’s do that,” he turns and throws his hand up. He whistles and wiggles his fingers. A cab rolls right up to him. “Let’s go.” 

He opens the back door and stands back. You stare at it. 

“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. You get in, ducking through the door, greeting the driver with a polite, “hello.” 

Yet the door doesn’t close. Instead, you’re urged further inside by the man as he sits on the seat next to you. You slide over as he pulls the door shut behind him. 

“Tell him where we’re going, doll,” he commands. 

You look at him, then the driver. You’re too stunned to think. What is he doing? You give your address and curl your shoulders as you shrink down. 

“Now,” the man stretches his arm across the seat, “we got the whole ride to get to know each other,” he offers his other hand, “I’m Bucky, I hear I make a pretty comfy seat.” 

You can’t help half a smile. You reach and shake his hand. You suppose he did help you out and he doesn’t seem angry about your unceremonious fall. You give him your name. 

“Thanks,” you say again. 

“Thanks? Oh doll, what kinda fool wouldn’t help a girl like you?” 

[megistusdiary]

ughhhh i wanna be sandwiched between acheron and black swan

-🐈‍⬛

ugh, i want them so bad. thank you so much for sending an ask i have literally been DYING for this

writing is a bit long (as a treat) my typing got away from me last night 🤫

black swan + acheron x fem reader

dom!black swan and transfem!acheron x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (mdni), threesome (3 ladies), wlw content, cunnilingus, fellatio, penetration, bondage, size kink, overstim

might be ooc, apologies if so 😓

it was hot, but not unbearably so. the sort of heat to make you sweat, to want to pull at the neckline of your shirt even when you know it wasn't proper.

the way these two women had you pressed between them, their hands trailing all across your body. it left you panting, resting your head on swan's shoulder. she smiled, leaning down to pull your chin up so you'd look her in the eyes.

she liked that doe-eyed look you'd give her. so sweet, she thought to herself. she'd have you crying by the end of the evening, she was sure of it.

gentle fingers quite contrary to her thoughts lead your lips up to hers, head tilting to slide her tongue past your lips. it catches you off guard, but the almost possessive way she holds your jaw has you moaning into the kiss.

when you pull away breathlessly, she has the gall to grin. "am i mistaken, or was that the sound of submission, hm?" she asks, swiping a thumb over your cheek sweetly.

acheron grunts in response, and you realize she wasn't talking to you, but her 'lover' of sorts.

swan preferred to take the lead in the beginning. light, teasing touches across your skin, sinking lower before skimming right back up. she liked watching you get needy, when you started whining and begging for her.

she liked to be the one to have you both pleading for her to 'just get on with it already.'

"aww, you look a little warm, sweetheart." she coos at you, brushing a hand over your forehead. "why don't we get these clothes off you? cool you down a little." she purrs, leaning back to practically yank your shirt right off you.

she wastes not even a moment, stripping you down entirely, leaving you no time to process feelings of embarrassment as she's right back to shoving you against acheron to kiss you.

you can feel acheron's hands getting bolder when swan is distracted, now teasingly skimming up your sides. shaky little breaths escape your lips as her fingers inch closer to your breasts, teasing your nipples between her fingers.

swan feels your chest arch up against her, and she smiles against your lips, pulling away and cupping your cheeks. her thumbs sweep across your cheekbones, feeling the warmth of blood rushing beneath your skin.

"how precious." swan coos, kissing the tip of your nose once before pulling you away, this time situating you onto her lap instead. she reaches around you, tugging acheron's hands to pull her closer, smirking at how acheron quickly grabs your jaw, kissing you with a fierceness you would've never seen coming.

she's decisive with it, you realize, tilting your jaw any which way she so chooses. she's rough, stealing the air right out of your lungs. her tongue slides against yours, only seeking to better steal your breath rather than intoxicate you like swan would.

swan enjoyed watching the both of you, but as her eyes slid lower, involuntarily, she could argue, she couldn't help but notice a rather sizeable bulge forming in acheron's shorts. "you look a little pent up, sweetie." swan interrupts your kiss, prompting acheron to pull away, still holding your face. swan gently sets you off to the side on the plush bedding, tugging acheron in for a kiss of her own.

this one, you notice, starts off romantically, but it ends rather brutal. a mix of teeth and tongue, surprised moans from swan as acheron takes the lead. swan's hands slip down acheron's toned torso, tracing the dips of her abs before teasing the band of her shorts.

the minute they're open, acheron grunts in relief, her swollen cock slapping against her abdomen. swan slides a finger over the most prominent vein, grinning to herself at the pre-cum pearling at the flushed tip. "so pretty. and so, so hard, hm?" swan's attention turns towards you, and you suddenly feel rather small beneath both their gazes. "come here, pretty girl." she urges with an outstretched hand.

she guides you to lower yourself down onto the floor as acheron spreads her thighs, watching with bated breath as swan gets you comfortable with pillows beneath your knees. she gently strokes your hair, whispering into your ear exactly how to turn acheron into mush.

acheron isn't very fond of that, though, and she gently grips your head, tugging you forward. "she's had enough of your input for one night, swan." acheron speaks in a melodic tone that leaves you swooning as she pulls you closer. the tip of her cock rests on your cheek as you look up at her so sweetly. she grips her base, hissing through her teeth as she teasingly taps it on your cheeks before sliding it onto your waiting tongue.

the weight of it on your tongue surprised you, and it stretched your lips a little further than expected. you couldn't stop the little gag that escaped you when she hit the back of your throat. but instead of pulling away, she pushes a little further, gently petting your head while keeping a good grip on you, sliding in deeper as you look up at her wide-eyed. your nose soon touches the soft violet patch of hair on her pelvis, little tears threatening to fall.

swan watches enraptured, afraid to ruin this moment of beauty between you as acheron keeps you trapped on her cock. "good girl, you're so tight. you feel so good around me." acheron groans, twitching against your tongue as you moan around her from the praise.

"someone likes praise, don't they?" swan chimes in, leaning down to gently pet your head while acheron fills your mouth. "such a good girl for us. how does her cock feel, sweetheart?" she asks, knowing damn well all you can do is let out muffled little whines. her laugh fills your ears as she gently pulls you off acheron's cock with an annoyed grunt from the other woman.

"don't be so greedy." swan chastises her, pulling you up to admire the already dazed expression on your face, spit at the edges of your lips as she cleans you up. "it's not very fair for our beautiful ranger to be the only one feeling good, is it?" she asks, delighting in the way you shake your head so cutely.

swan caresses your jaw lovingly, kissing your cheek and guiding you to lay down with your head hanging off the edge of the bed instead. acheron stands now, fisting her swollen cock almost irritatedly as swan adjusts you to her liking, leaning down to kiss your thigh. the way your head shoots up to watch her movements makes her lightly nip your skin. "head back down. good girls get rewards, don't make me punish you."

once you lean back down, her lips inch closer to the place you desire most, placing a chaste kiss on your clit at the same moment acheron taps her cock on your lips. "open up." acheron demands rather than asks, sliding herself into your throat. this time she feels even deeper, sliding in with less resistance as you let out garbled noises of surprise.

acheron's fingers slide over the bulge in your throat, causing a low moan to bubble in your throat. swan chooses that moment to suckle your clit, turning your voice more desperate, vibrating around acheron as she shallowly fucks your mouth.

you feel slick fingers prodding at your entrance, slowly, teasingly sliding in while swan's tongue laves over your clit, feeling your thighs twitch as she pushes them further open. she moans into your pussy, just to hear you whimper while your throat is stuffed with cock. she likes how debauched they've made you without even fully undressing themselves. it's intoxicating, in a way.

once you've adjusted to the stretch, she pulls no punches, going right for your g-spot. her fingers crook in just the right way, your face scrunching up as you choke around acheron. the sudden tightening has the taller woman suddenly gripping the bedsheets, threatening to tear them. "she's so fucking tight-" acheron grits her teeth, restraining herself.

swan doesn't say anything more, for once, opting to keep finger fucking you until you cum on her tongue. she licks up every single drop of your essence, kissing your sensitive clit once more for good measure. acheron slowly slides out of your throat, still swollen, but throbbing at your confused whine once your mouth is empty.

acheron's hand comes to cup your cheek, gently soothing you. "don't cry. you'll get your fill." and she leaves the meaning up for interpretation, this time watching swan tug her clothing to the side, exposing between her own thighs. she sends acheron a devilish grin, leaning back on the bed and beckoning her closer.

swan leans up to whisper in acheron's ear, giggling every so often until acheron pulls away. she leans down, scooping you up and so easily maneuvering you exactly to her, or, well, swan's liking according to her vision. she sets you on all fours, face hovering before swan's pussy as your forehead presses into the sheets.

the woman before you softens her cheeky smile, pulling your head up and towards her. "make me feel good, sweetheart, okay?" the first time you hear her moan is when you lick a quick stripe over her slit. your hands are too busy holding your own body up to hold her thighs, but she has no trouble keeping them spread for you. "good girl, such a pretty little toy for us, aren't you?"

her hands pull you closer to her cunt, practically suffocating you while acheron takes the time to slide her tip across your own cunt. they both smirk at how your body twitches, desperately wanting to close your thighs. acheron takes a large hand, pushing you down into a pretty arch for her, propping your hips up.

"such a cute little thing." acheron mumbles, leaning over and eyeing the residual slick pooling from your hole as she holds your thighs open for her viewing pleasure.

"don't keep her waiting too long." swan calls out to the woman behind you. acheron takes that as her cue, once again teasing you with the tip of her cock before slowly sliding it into your drippy pussy.

and, oh, if you thought it was too big for your throat, it feels even bigger stretching you out like this. she purposefully goes slow for you, feeling your pussy flutter at the unfamiliar intrusion. she can hear your soft whines into swan's pussy as you eat her out messily.

acheron's grip on your hips feels like iron, fingers digging into your flesh as she eases herself in. her thumbs rub circles into your hips, comforting you until she's fully in. you clench around her so perfectly, causing her head to tip back on its own from the overwhelming tightness. "relax, you're going to cut off my circulation." she huffs, a teasing lilt behind her words.

she hears swan laugh, pulling you into her pussy as you wrap your lips around her clit, still struggling to focus on two overwhelming sensations at once. "isn't she so perfect?" swan asks, tone soft and breathy as acheron sighs heavily.

"perfect." she repeats, experimentally pulling your hips back and forth a little. swan pulls your head up, allowing you to catch your breath and simultaneously enjoying the view of her slick on your face.

"how does she feel? good to be stretched out by someone so big, isn't it?" swan asks you, listening to your quiet panting, head falling forward.

"too big." you whimper softly. "so full."

"you can take it." acheron speaks before swan can. "i'll make sure of it." and the way you clench around her makes acheron scoff, almost haughty as your face heats up.

acheron increases the intensity of her thrusts, slapping against your skin. a white creamy ring forms around acheron's base, one only she can see from where she is positioned fucking you. her hips slow down so she can admire it, just to fuck you with more fervor right after.

once again, swan presses you back against her as you do your best to make her cum. at some point, it's turned into her holding your head still while she rubs herself on your tongue and nose. her moans get higher pitched, less controlled as she uses you.

the woman fucking you purposefully aims for your g-spot again, finding your pitiful little whines endearing. swan pants when she finally cums, leaning back down and allowing you to press your cheek into the bed. your noises echo in the bedroom, just the way your lovers like it. you sound so cute like this, unable to do anything but take what they give you.

you feel yourself getting close once again, pleading with acheron to let you cum, though it seems she was more than eager to feel you orgasm around her. she fucks you right through your peak, grunting at your contractions around her.

she eases her cock out of you, and just when you think that means you're getting a break, acheron is pulling you up into her arms on the bed. your little confused whimper has her twitching against your lower back from where she keeps you trapped on her lap. her arms slide beneath your knees, spreading you open as you lean against her chest.

"too sensitive, acheron, can't!" you suddenly protest, but swan rushes forward and kisses you instead, moaning at the taste of herself on her lips.

when she pulls away, acheron is positioning her cock at your entrance once again. swan's thumb presses into your glossy lip and she looks at you with narrowed eyes. "you know what to say if it's really too much." she reminds you, and with that, acheron spears you down on her dick.

you let out a sharp cry hands reaching back to dig into any part of acheron you can find, desperately trying to ground yourself into reality while acheron fucks you above her lap.

swan tuts, summoning something to hold your hands up above you, instead attached to the ceiling while acheron is free to fuck you however she wants. the bulge in your lower stomach is now apparent to both women in the room, both letting out a soft groan at the sight. acheron lifts and drops your hips at her leisure, enjoying how helpless you are for her.

she grows more feral, grunts of your name pouring into your ears along with curses and sounds of her skin slapping yours. there's something so powerful in how she fucks you like your weight is nothing to her. how you're trapped and exposed on her lap, her cock stretching you out for her. the way swan watches you both, keeping your hands restrained above you.

it only get more intense when swan leans down, pressing a kiss to your twitchy clit, and another kiss to acheron's cream-covered cock. her hips stutter and she shivers, staring down at swan. "you're dirty." she tuts.

"you love it." swan laughs, licking a stripe up her cock, connecting to your clit as acheron disappears into your cunt. your moans grow louder with all the sensations, and when swan takes your clit into her mouth, you cum with a soft cry, tears finally falling as you squirm in acheron's arms.

she can barely pull out in time, her own release coating your stomach, some finding its way to your chest and face. acheron heaves, slowly lowering you onto the bed while the bindings unwind themselves, allowing you to lay completely limply on the soiled bedsheets.

swan and acheron both watch over you. swan sighs at the cum covering your skin, dragging her fingers through the fluid. she brings her fingers to her mouth, purposefully teasing acheron by sliding the fingers deeper to the knuckle. acheron turns pink, cock twitching with interest once again.

deliriously, you realize this will be a much longer night than you originally expected.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Just the Way I Am.

Yan Yuji x F Reader x Yan Sukuna.

Synopsis: Yuji is like the sun. His cursed half is like the moon. Both of them hurt you, but in different ways, but neither of them will stop. That mere fact, in the end, hurts you more than if only Sukuna was around because sometimes you think of terrible things. Terrible things like wishing Yuji, who used to always be your ray of sunshine, never existed at all or would die a slow and painful death.

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, violence, and a not-so-healthy dash of not SFW and misogyny (from our dear Sukuna of course).

Word Count: 850.

*~*~*~*

Yuji was not wearing the clothes he usually wore. Instead of his favorite outfit which consisted of a scarlet hoodie and black sweatpants, he simply wore his briefs, sitting on the couch opposite to the bed you had slept in since the night before, loudly eating some beef jerky you and he had gotten from the convenience store yesterday. All the noise was the reason you had woken up in the first place. Choosing not to voice it, though, you attempted to go back to bed. Perhaps that was the wrong decision though, because as soon as you closed your eyes and turned to face the wall, you felt long nails grip at your shoulder, sinking deep enough to almost make you bleed. It was foolish of you to do such a thing, you realize because Yuji only bought the jerky for Sukuna.

Before you could turn around to greet him, the pain went further into your flesh, making you wince.

“Who taught you to be so rude, huh?” The voice was as cold as it always has been, being as much more gruff than Yuji’s ever could be. “Answer me.”

His breath was smokey from the beef jerky but also smelled like rotting food, the instant ramen Yuji made along with a boiled egg he swore was not too old to eat. You try your best not to gag as you start stuttering out an apology.

“N-No one…”

“Oh really?” The voice changed to that of a mockery of something tranquil, something kind. Something like Yuji’s voice. But instead of begging you to stay the night while claiming it was too dark out for a girl to be walking to her dorm room alone, it was speaking to you like you had just done something you were too dumb to realize was stupid. You suppose, in a way, that that is what you had done. 

You forgot the very first rule Sukuna had told you to never disobey when you had woken up screaming at the sight of something that looked sort of like Yuji but did not act like him at all, and now you are in for yet another trip to hell itself. 

“I told you I didn’t want another brat. I already deal with one as it is.” He lets go, and out of instinct to not get hurt more than you already will today, you turn around to face him. He looks down at you, his arms crossed and shaking his head in a mix of amusement and disappointment. “You deal with him too. You know just how big of a pain in the ass he can be. ‘Oh, [First], let me carry you to my bed! Oh, [First], I’m sorry for hitting you when I thought you were cheating on me, please come back! Oh, [First], I’m not a pervert, but wear those shorts that show off your ass for me!’ Please, it’s all pathetic, isn’t it? He’s just as bad as me.”

Not wanting to get hurt even more, you agree by nodding your head faster than necessary, you think, because as a response Sukuna laughs so loud it hurts your ears.

“Tell me, just why haven’t you left him yet then, hm? Since you’re so eager to admit I am right.” 

Your answer is whispered low, though you already know Yuji can hear you, even when Sukuna takes his turn with the body they share. “Because of you. You’d… drag me back.”

“Good girl.” The customary compliments are merely a facade just like this one, no matter who is speaking. His resentment towards you remains intact. Soon, Yuji will also harbor the same fury, as he takes his rightful turn in that vessel they both inhabit. “You haven’t even been promoted to Grade 3 yet. Quite sad, wouldn’t you say? Not that a little girl like you should be a sorcerer to begin with.”

Once again, you nod your head.

“How would you ever hope to survive me, or even outrun me, the King of Curses?”

“I… I wouldn’t.”

Another praise that is just as empty as all the ones before it. With it, the walls of Yuji’s dorm feel even more like that of a prison’s, and this room feels even more small. If these walls could talk, they would tell you to run, or at least you would hope that they would.

“That’s right. So good.” Sukuna turns to face the only window in Yuji’s dorm. You look too. The sun is going down. Did you really sleep for that long? Not that you blame yourself, dealing with Yuji during the day could be considered a full-time job after all. “You fell asleep before I could get my turn. Now, how are you going to compensate me for that when it is fully night outside?”

As the sun descends like a sharp guillotine blade, you and Sukuna share a silent understanding of the inevitable. Your legs tremble at the impending doom, for both of you are well aware of the answer.

You’ll stay, won’t you?

[just-a-creep-babe]

Can you write nsfw for Cody with female reader 👉👈?

I adored writing more for Cody, and I hope you'll enjoy this too~

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

“Truth or dare?”

You lean in, a playful grin on your lips as you think through your answer

“Mmh… truth”

The many drinks have started getting to your head, and you feel pleasantly warm and dizzy

And, it’s by no means the first time you’ve had the thought, but being able to look at him so closely like this without the burden of your inhibitions, it really makes you think—damn, he’s not too bad on the eyes

The brunet licks his lips, his gaze flicking down to your own as he does so, before he gazes back up at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes

“Boring” he accuses, flashing his teeth in a boyish smile before tilting his drink back to down a few mouthfuls

You click your tongue with a snicker

“Too bad—it’s my final decision,” you take a sip of your own poison, savoring the bitter sting of alcohol as it burns down your throat

You realize, once you’ve straightened back out, that he’s looking at the way your throat moves when you swallow down the liquid

“Besides,” you add, pretending you don’t notice his staring, “I’m not the one who has anything to prove now, am I?”

He huffs

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

He toys with his lip piercing between his teeth, and you suddenly wonder about the taste of metal against your tongue

“You’re the new guy—you should be the one worried about making an impression”

Having joined the mansion nearly four months ago by no means made him “new”

But integrating with the creeps was a long process; most didn’t take too kindly to newcomers

And, even considering those who were more welcoming, compared to the decades some spent at the safe-house, a few months was almost a laughable amount of time

Cody wouldn’t be able to shake the title of “new guy” for at least the next year or two—something that, despite his best efforts to cover, you knew bothered him deep down

He huffs again, this time with a roll of his eyes

“Fine, fine,” he rescinds, “be boring if you want to, then”

He downs another mouthful, and this time, it’s your turn to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the motion

You wonder how he’d look with blue and purple marks littering his neck

His eyes meet yours as he finishes the remainder of his drink, and a smirk widens on his lips as he catches you looking

“Alright, I have a question,” he states, like he suddenly just got an idea

“Shoot,” you shrug, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, even despite the way your blood’s warming in your veins

“Where’s the freakiest place you’ve ever fucked?”

The question, admittedly, catches you off-guard

You’re not sure just what, exactly, you expected, but it definitely wasn’t that, of all things

“Hm…” you hum, taking a second to think about your answer, “I guess, like… one time, I did it in a closet at a party”

You can’t help the flash of teeth that escapes your proud smirk at the sight of his reaction

Pretty brown eyes blown wide open in surprise, you wonder if he’d have a similar reaction to you flashing him right about now

“No way. Where—here? At one of the mansion parties?”

You don’t answer directly, but you can tell he knows he hit the mark just by the look on your face

“No way,” he repeats incredulously, “Recently? One of the parties when I was there?!”

“Ah ah,” you tut playfully with a wag of your finger, “You had one question, new guy—now’s my turn to ask”

He opens his mouth, as if to protest or argue, but then decides against it with a forced nonchalant shrug

“By all means, ask away”

You smile—tantalizing, teasing

“Truth or dare?”

Fuck, his eyes are gorgeous

The party lights hit them a certain way, at just the right angle to bring out the depths from within them

And it’s brief, but you swear you catch it all—his desire, his curiosity, his admiration—all in that split second before the angle shifts and the light flickers away

You’re sitting on the floor in the corner of the living room, and it's crowded as all hell, but it feels like it’s just you and him right now

“Hm…” he tilts his head, and your breath catches in your throat when he looks up at you through those long lashes of his

“Dare”

You grin

Something wide and brash and salacious but you’re too excited to hide it

“Dare you to let me touch you”

It’s, admittedly, bold

But you’re tipsy and horny, and it seems like a good enough way to get what you want

Judging by the way he’s been looking at you this whole time, he seems pretty receptive to it, anyways

Your dare surprises him—but he plays it off decently well, all things considered

“Straight to the point, huh?” he laughs

He takes another mouthful of his drink, and you eye him as he does, already mapping out which parts of him you want to lay your hands on first

When he brings his drink back down, he extends his hands either side of himself, bearing himself in a “go ahead” motion

“By all means,” he states

You’re suddenly nervous

You swallow another shot from your drink, relying on that liquid courage to smooth over your worries

And then, deciding it’s now or never, you reach out to him

You touch his chest first, hands pressing to the firmness of his body over his clothes

Compared to some of the other creeps, like Jack and Jeff, he’s definitely leaner, but he—by no means—isn’t muscular

You trace your fingertips down—down, down, down—all the way to his hips until you’re at the hem of his pants

He’s holding his breath

You wonder if you should reach further

And then you think—fuck it

You reach down and press against his groin

He’s hard

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering all of the heavy-handed back-and-forth up until this point

But you didn’t expect him to be this hard

You can feel him twitch up into your touch as you press against his crotch

He releases something like a quiet, shuddered breath

And when you look up, you find that he’s leaning his hips forward, but his head is tilted up in a barely concealed silent moan

He bites at his lip to keep himself from making any sound, like the minor sting from the bite could distract him

You run your hand up and down his length—once, twice, barely a third time before reluctantly pulling away

Only once you’re no longer palming him through his jeans do you wonder if anyone noticed

Was that obvious?

His gaze falls back onto you again—deep, heavily-lidded eyes that compliment his shallow breathing

And then he swallows back whatever was on the tip of his tongue, whatever he was just about to say, and asks instead

“Truth or dare?”

His voice is breathy, almost shaky, and you relish the sound

“Truth”

A look of what could almost be considered betrayal flashes over his face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the sight of it

He wants more—that much is obvious

But you want to keep this little game going, want to keep the odds in your favor

You want to see how far you can push him

How much you can wind him up before he snaps

“How badly do you want me to fuck you right now?”

It’s your turn to be surprised

You swallow, your throat tightening and your stomach coiling with a pit of warmth

“Badly,” you answer honestly, before you can even consider lying

Your voice is almost a whisper through the desire constricting your vocal cords

“Truth or dare?”

You don’t waste time returning the question

“Dare”

“I dare you to touch me”

Something flickers in his eyes

It’s that look of I thought you’d never ask

He reaches for your thighs first, lingering the pads of his fingers at the hem of your skirt

You lean back on your hands to subtly tilt your pelvis in his direction

And when his fingers graze along the patch of skin right beneath your skirt, you’re almost disappointed thinking he won’t go any further

But then he pushes up, tracing along your inner thigh, and just through that mere touch alone, your stomach flips in excitement

Your body’s aching for him

As soon as he presses against your slit over your underwear, you have to hold back a shudder

The muscles in your abdomen tense

He huffs out a breath to mask his groan as he feels your arousal even through your underwear

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs

He rubs lazy circles with his thumb, gazing at you through heavy lids like he’s gauging your every reaction

Your breath is heavy, chest rising and falling with the effort it takes not to moan

You want him—you want him so, so fucking badly

You know it’s probably just the booze talking, but at this point, you don’t even care if anyone notices

Still, for the sake of your own reputation, you try to stay as still as possible

You try not to move or sway or grind yourself down on his hand, even as he presses just slightly harder, and even as it starts to feel like a pressure’s building in your core

It’s agonizing

You let him toy with you to his heart’s content, until every stroke up and down your slit is sending waves of heat up your system

Stay still, don’t move, don’t make a sound

You try to repeat the words like a mantra in your head, but the alcohol is making everything feel dull and fuzzy, and even without meaning to, your hips buckle and your thighs tense from his touch

“Truth or dare?”

His voice is low and gravelly when he asks the question

Dark eyes pierce right through yours, laced with hunger and impatience

You flush—the intensity of the eye contact while he continues his ministrations making you feel so, so weak for him

“Dare”

You don’t know why now—of all times—you pick dare

But you do know that as soon as the answer escapes you, you pray his dare will be filthy

“I dare you to let me make you cum”

It’s as if the gods of sex and intoxication heard your prayers

His response has your stomach clenching already in anticipation of your climax

You don’t trust your voice, so you merely nod and bite back whatever sound’s threatening to escape your lips

Your answer’s all the confirmation he needs

He pushes your underwear to the side, and as soon as his bare skin meets yours, your walls try to squeeze around something that isn’t there

He takes in a sharp breath through his nose as he feels the sheer amount of slick coating his fingers

Up and down, he leisurely gathers your arousal—almost as if to see just how much you can possibly produce

And fuck—the wait for him to finally finger-fuck you is driving you insane

You’re on the verge of making some impatient comment, when, as if sensing your agitation, he finally sinks two fingers into your folds

It punches the air out of your lungs in some undignified whimper

With all of his attention focused solely on you—on your expression, on your body’s reaction—it feels like you’re at the center of his world

When he curls his fingers up and drags his touch against that certain spot inside of you, you consider it somewhat of a miracle you manage to stay quiet

In and out, in and out, he repeatedly brushes right against your most sensitive spot, and it feels like your body’s burning with need

You’re certain it must be obvious by now—between the jerking motion of his hand beneath your skirt and your inability to remain still, how could anyone not know what’s going on?

Your only hope is that the lights are dim and it’s crowded, and you’re huddled together in a corner on the floor

So maybe—maybe it’s not that bad

It’s all you can tell yourself to try to convince yourself this is fine

Because at this point, even if you did get called out, you’re not sure you’d want him to stop

You squirm, your body tensing and fluttering around him, and it’s like the more you try to remain in control, the less you can stifle your faint little whines and whimpers

You’ve no choice but to sink your teeth into your bottom lip to force yourself to keep it shut

“Fuck, atta girl~”

Even in the dim lighting, you don’t fail to notice the way he subtly shifts to readjust his dick in his pants

You’re about to make some teasing comment about it—because even though he has his hand between your legs and you’re just about drunk on the cusp of your orgasm, you don’t want him to realize how much control he has over you

But then he jerks his fingers harder into you and your head rolls back and every fibre of your being tenses

“C’mon baby, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum around my fingers—“

His low, husky commands have you teetering on the precipice of your climax

You try to stave it back—try to remain in control of your own body—but the more you hold it off, the more the pressure builds

You bring a hand up to your mouth, brows knitting in bliss if not for the worry about being way too loud lacing your features

And then he murmurs out some other filthy nothings, and his thumb reaches up to jerk your clit harder—and you just can’t help it anymore

In the middle of a party, out in the open, you cum—hard

The music and indistinct chatter is the only thing stopping everyone from hearing your slew of muffled cries

Your cunt clenches and spasms around his digits, and it only encourages him to keep pumping them inside you until you’re squeezing your legs shut to make him stop

Panting and shaking, you watch as he pulls his fingers free, which glisten in the LED lights with your arousal, and pop them between his lips

He looks beyond ravenous for more as he savors your taste

And even though you’ve just cum, it has yet another wave of thrill rushing down your spine

“Truth or dare?” you ask again, your breaths low and shallow

A glimmer of curiosity sparks in his eyes, as though he didn’t expect you to want to keep playing

“Dare,” he answers

You don’t hesitate as you give your response

“I dare you to come to my room tonight”

[howi99]

Ashen knight 7

I'm chaptering them now, but it's the RK and kid Cinder story

RK: *sitting at a table, the future chief of the specialist on one side and the future terrorist who helped bring Beacon down on the other* For the last time, i can't just kidnap a bunch of kids and bring them with us Cinder.

Kid Cinder: *sitting on Juniper, lazily brushing her* Why not? That's what you did for me.

RK: *dismissing her* Oh shush you, we both know you couldn't stay there. You were a slave! *Point to Winter* She's the heiress to one of the most lucrative businesses in remnant and he *points to Adam* ... Well i guess he IS an orphan, but i highly doubt that the Belladonna's are going to be fine with one of their flock disappearing in Mantle of all places.

Cinder: Touché.

Winter: *slamming her hands on the table* So what!? I can't stand my father anymore!

RK: *sigh* Winter, your father is the worst vermin, the lowest of the low. On that, we agree. Still, you are Winter Schnee, probably the second most important person in the SDC. Tell me, how would i pass you through security?

Winter: ... Shit.

RK: *nods* Now you get it. *Turn to Adam* As for you-

Adam: Oh i didn't plan on following you. I just wanted to brag to my best friend that i actually talked with the Rusted Knight. *Taking a scroll from his backpack* Speaking of, would you mind if i took a picture with you and Juniper?

RK: ... You know she's going to kill you, right?

Adam: *shrug* Eh, i lived a nice life. *Turn to Winter* I'm surprised a Schnee would hate Jacques so much, even more so his own daughter.

Winter: *rolling her eyes* Oh don't get me started. It's bad enough that he is a misogynistic, racist and calculating bastard. And it's not like i wouldn't want to help your cause, but last time i tried speaking up, i was... *Shacking her head* No, nevermind.

RK: *listening to Winter, looking worried* Hm...

Cinder: *looking at him suspiciously* I know that look...

RK: *taking a decision* Tell me Winter, is the SDC manor looking for staff?

Cinder: Oh no! I am NOT working as a maid again!

RK: ... I meant for me, Cinder.

Winter: I... Don't know? I can ask Klein, he is in charge of that.

RK: *nod* Then go ask him *smiling*

Winter: *blushing* Y-yes! Of course! *Leave*

Cinder: *sigh* I really wanted to leave that forsaken place, why are you helping her?

RK: *shrug* I wouldn't be a good knight if i didn't help those in need, right?

Cinder: *pouting* Damn it all...

RK: *waiting until Winter was gone* I thought i'd have to stop you. Tell me, why didn't you attack Winter? I could feel your bloodlust bubbling under your mask.

Adam: ... *Sigh* Should have known you'd see that.

RK: It must have taken you a lot of self control... you did good.

Adam: ... Are you going to stop him? So nobody else will have to suffer like me?

RK: I'll try my best... So, you still want that photo, or?

Adam: *now really smiling* Damn right i want!

[iris-qt]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐

☾ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

☾ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | 2ᴋ

☾ ᴀ/ɴ: ʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏʟʟ (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴘᴏʟʟꜱ).

☾ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ɪᴛ. ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴀʀɴꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

Silly, foolish love.

Regulus seemed to be surrounded by the atrocious thing as love was in bloom at Hogwarts. Valentine’s Day was slowly approaching as February rolled in, blanketing the castle in fresh snow and an air of romantic anticipation.

And Regulus hated it.

He stalked up the endless stairs with his lanky legs to reach the rotted wooden trapdoor that led to the stuffy Divination room. If only the crystal ball would tell him how to drop out of this useless class mid-year. Walking in for the 2nd semester of the year, he saw the little magical name tags Professor Trelawney had enchanted were scrambled.

New seats.

Just fucking wonderful.

He’d gotten used to sitting next to some short, sniveling boy with bad acne and thick glasses. Such a simple, mutual understanding of silence between them. 

Regulus made his way to his new table at the back of the class. At least he could think clearly as he wasn’t seated right next to Trewlany’s five sticks of incense. Leaning over, messy black curls falling over his tired eyes, he peeks at the name on the tag next to him…Y/N. 

The new girl.

He’d never spoken to her but she didn’t seem particularly irritating, so perhaps this would be fine. 

You walk in, one of the last students, and as you take a seat, Regulus notes you smell like the fresh pines of the Forbidden Forest. Not to mention you had a pine leaf stuck in your sweater. His keen detective work led him to the conclusion that there was more to you than he had originally thought. Rather than a wallflower, you were hiding something in those focused eyes.

Those focused eyes that were now trained on him, lighting up as you gave him a little wave.

Regulus nodded in acknowledgment and turned away, letting you know he wasn’t one for small talk in case you hoped to engage in it.

The planets must’ve not been aligned in Regulus’s favor as the topic of today’s class was palm reading; particularly the line that represented love and future relationships. All in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, as Trelawny put it.

She chose the wrong holiday to become festive about.

The thing is, Regulus didn’t believe in love. He believed love was a choice. A choice he tended to avoid. He had made the decision to not get involved at all. Relationships only bring drama and heartbreak and he wanted none of it. None. Of. It. 

Also, his awkwardness welcomed zero aspects of any love, so perhaps he was slightly salty about that.

When the palm reading commenced, you turned to him, flipping your textbook to the correct page.

“It looks like the heart line is right above the head line.”

He raises an eyebrow. “But where’s the head line?”

You smile as you gently take his hand in yours and trace your finger over his heart line on his pale palm. Maybe it was a sensory issue, because his heart stopped and then started racing one thousand beats a second. It was probably just because of nerve endings leading to his heart, right? Basic human anatomy.

“Hm…I’m picking up a vibe…seems like your life shall be…” you look at Regulus, eyes wide for dramatic flare “...full of smiles and hugs! Merlin! Whatever shall you do?”

Regulus can’t help but crack a smile as he attempts to hide it with a disappointed head shake. 

“And here I thought you’d take this seriously.”

“I am dead serious, Black,” you drain your face of emotions as you stare blankly at him.

He can’t help but let out a stifled laugh as his heart picks up again. This cannot be good. He must be sick. Flu season, right?

Regulus recovered from his supposed illness by the next morning as he woke up early; washing himself with ice cold water to maintain his control and balance throughout the day. The air outside was crisp and the unrelenting chill of winter was chasing the occasional snowflakes that decided to fall. 

Perfect weather for a rejuvenating morning walk.

Truthfully, he hoped the cold would numb his spontaneous thoughts of Y/N. One little interaction and he was already spiraling.

No matter.

Everything was under control.

Until he saw you, bundled up in an endless number of layers, sitting by the lake with a little tray of watercolors, your hair gently blowing in the breeze. He just knew your nose would be a rosy shade and it’s as if his heart began an override autopilot of his body, moving his legs toward you. Of course, he was just curious as to why you were painting out in this bleak weather. Of course, it was plain curiosity. Nothing more. 

His quiet steps were given away by the frosty ground, and you looked up as he approached, his ink black hair decorated with various snowflakes, blowing around his face..

“Morning Regulus, here for another palm reading?” you grin seeing him roll his eyes. He hesitates as he doesn’t know whether he should ask before he sits down next to you. You gently pat the frosted grass next to you and he quietly takes a seat; knees to his chest.

“I don’t know if a thin black robe is the best attire for this weather, Black.”

“Hm..I suppose next time I’ll bring 20 sweaters like you,” he hums, giving you a small, lopsided smile. You scoff teasingly as you unwrap your large wool scarf from your neck, putting it around his shivering form. He looks at you with a shimmering yet unreadable emotion, before he pulls his gaze from your rosy, frigid nose to the small, pocket sized canvas you’re holding.

Your art was simplistic, yet heavenly. The soft pastel shades of the water colors blended together in perfect harmony, capturing the ethereal atmosphere of this cold, February morning. The lake shimmered with an azure shade which escaped into the baby blue tint of the cloudy sky.

You caught him staring and dug into your messenger bag, pulling out another tiny canvas and a spare brush.

“Paint with me”

He blinked at you, your gentle and inviting manner a foreign language to him. He always welcomed loneliness, but in your presence, he didn’t think being alone would ever feel the same. He’d always be yearning for someone. A specific someone. 

Merlin, he was in deep.

They sat there in a comfortable silence; the only sounds consisted of the lake lapping onto the shore and whispers of the winter winds. Regulus could get used to this. He began painting the scene, hoping to impress you with his professional art; a product of his years of art lessons with the best of the best. But he would never capture the moment like you did. Perhaps it was the lack of artistic “rules” with which you painted that made it so perfect. Perhaps it was the fact that it was you who painted it that made it so perfect. 

For perfection makes perfection.

So imagine his happiness when you gifted him your little canvas after the morning paint session. Regulus was truly at a loss for words but managed to pipe out a weak “thank you” as he gently held the little canvas as if it were a fragile artifact. He gave himself a mental reminder to learn various protective charms to perform on the small painting. Perhaps buy an impenetrable golden chamber for it? No. Platinum.

Valentine’s Day commenced with a flurry of sappy couples and atrocious public displays of affection. Regulus would’ve stayed holed up in his dorm, but how could he miss a trip to Hogsmeade? He needed to stock up on swan feather quills and dark chocolate frogs.

Yes, of course, Regulus had thought about you and perhaps conveying his feelings on this day reserved for love, but he’d rather not ruin the one beautiful thing in his life. Ever since that one early morning, you and him had been painting basically everyday. Those painting sessions are what made Regulus excited to wake up in the morning. But he wasn’t sure if you harbored the same feelings. 

Truthfully, if love was a choice, Regulus wouldn’t choose to love you. It was beautiful, yes. But it was heart wrenching; his stomach constantly felt like a twisting storm while your eyes sang a siren song that would soon bring him to his demise against the sharp rocks of love. 

That is why he pondered just releasing his emotions and letting you know his affections towards you. But Regulus was nothing if not afraid. 

Afraid of losing you.

Stupid love.

As he made his way into Hogsmeade, he noticed you strolling around with your best friend, laughing. You made eye contact with him as you gave him a little wave and a small smile. He briskly looked away as if you could read his conflicting thoughts about you behind his eyes and walked off.

Strange.. You thought.

After running his errands, Regulus decided to head back. Per usual, Valentine’s Day was a flop. They didn’t even have dark chocolate frogs in stock. Regulus sighed as he began walking back. He immediately paused in his steps as he noticed you at a pop-up flower stand, making a bouquet of white flowers. Ranunculus? Yes, it was a bouquet of Ranunculus. He had studied flower language as part of his private tutoring growing up. They represented charm and attraction. 

Charm and attraction?

Who were you charmed and attracted by? Because it certainly wasn’t him. 

Regulus scoffs to himself as he walks off, attempting to push away the gnawing feeling in his stomach. 

Until he hears your sparkling voice calling his name.

You run up to him across the frozen ground, a bouquet of Ranunculus in your hand. Quite unfortunately, the icy ground causes you to slip, and as you fall, Regulus catches you, your face pressed against his chest which is adorned with your scarf. His heart was racing so fast you were concerned he could be having a heart attack. You steady yourself, straightening your beanie, an embarrassed look on your face which immediately turns to a crestfallen expression as you notice the now crushed flowers. 

“Fuck…”

You felt like crying.

Your sadness was contagious as Regulus couldn’t bear to see his beautiful girl upset over anything. He quickly muttered a spell which brought the flowers back to life. Yes, he just  encouraged Y/N’s romantic pursuits towards another person by doing so, but if that’s what made you happy, he’d give it to you. 

Your face broke into a smile as you glanced to the side, a bit shaken at this bump in the road. 

“Thanks for saving my face from destruction, Reggie.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” He smiled, always enjoying their exchanges. 

With all the insecure thoughts buzzing in your head, you decided to kill them off once and for all, and pushed the bouquet of flowers towards Regulus, unable to make eye contact with his calculating eyes. You didn’t want to see them calculate just how much of an idiot your infatuation with him made you.

“For you.”

Regulus blinked, unable to comprehend what was going on. Maybe she hit her head against his bony chest a bit too hard. He stood there gaping, as still as a rock.

You took that as a sign he wasn’t interested, and, with an internal sigh, turned the other way, looking skyward to chase the tears away. Flowers hanging limp in your hand, you were about to walk away, when you felt Regulus’s soft grip on your wrist as he coaxed you back to him.

Regulus was beaming in a way that was slightly unsettling and heart warming at the same time. There was something about seeing one’s true grin for the first time. And it was purely contagious as you grinned back at him like a lovesick fool.

Silly, foolish love.

[dionvsian]

theodore nott meeting the hogwarts cool girl !!

theodore nott x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: reader smokes cigarettes (srry if it makes you uncofortable!).

little note: back to writing! i used to have a blog here and i made the dumbest decision to delete it (i'll forever miss you timothée chalamet's fake instagram posts)

reblogs are appreciated 😁

“are you always this late?” he looked down, studying your face. You could see him taking in every single detail. as he did so, he lifted an eyebrow and waited for your reply. a small smirk played with the corner of his mouth. the kind of smirk you see someone do when they feel they are superior towards you. he did not know your name, at least not yet.

your silence caused him to continue: “I am theo. and you are?"

"I'm y/n"

"pleased to meet you y/n. my father always said that a name should mean something. it should reflect the person being named"

"i'm not really sure what my name means, but i hope is something nice!"

"are you a pure blooded witch?"

"yep" you say nodding

he seems satisfied with your answer. as if you somehow passed a test without even knowing it. he holds his hand out and introduces himself with a slight bow.

"i would say you look like an angel from heaven, but you look more like some punk girl who has trouble getting to class on time"

"i wasn't planning on going to class rn"

“oh! uhm, that can get you into trouble. you know.” he says. then he adds: “are you always so bold? it’s kind of cute.”

"i'm not bold, i'm just me"

he lets out a chuckle. "it’s the same thing. I’m guessing you are just very confident in yourself, hm?” he tilts his head a little and looks down at you. “it’s not a bad quality, and I suppose it makes for a good quality of a friend, don’t you think?”

"yeah maybe"

“you are not the quiet type, I bet. you are the one who likes to get things done.” he smiles, and leans in close to you. "you would do anything to achieve your goal. you must be one of the most popular girls at school. i bet many boys try to ask you out.” and he waits for you to respond. there is a glint in his eye as he stares at you, studying you.

a soft blush spreads on your cheeks "maybe... do you want to join them?" you say flirtatious

he smiles and leans closer, he is just a few inches away from you. you can feel the heat of his breath coming from his lips as he smiles.

“maybe I do.”

he waits for you to respond, just looking at your face, smiling. he is amused at the way you're blushing. but you cannot tell what the reason for that is. does he find you attractive? or does he find you a fool? he seems to be enjoying this a little too much, as you cannot tell what the outcome of this conversation will be.

you look up at him, since he is a bitt taller but you only gives a satisfied smirk

he is enjoying this attention he thinks. he leans in even closer to you and whispers in your ear.

"what are you thinking about right now?”

you let out some of the air that was inside your lungs "to be honest, I was thinking of smoking some cigarettes and painting my nails"

"you’re a naughty girl then. do you smoke cigarettes often?" he asks this in a way that implies he actually cares about the answer to the question. as if smoking cigarettes is a bad thing. or it's not?

"yeah, but don't tell anyone, ok? it will be our secret"

he seems amused by your response. he smiles and whispers again. this time his voice is even quieter

“a secret.” he whispers the last word and he has this smile on his face that says it is not a normal secret. the look on his face gives her the impression he thinks of something not entirely appropriate. “how many cigarettes are you planning to smoke today alone?”

"3? i'm not really sure"

again, he gives you this amused smile, and it seems he is actually a bit impressed. he is not used to seeing someone not care about the rules like she does.

“well, they say you gotta try everything once. you must get into trouble a lot. aren’t you afraid of detention?”

"no, plus I never get caught anyways". you say and smile for him "do you smoke?"

he seems surprised at the question. he shakes his head and says. “no, I have never smoked. my father makes sure i take care of my health. but he doesn’t say anything about my friends. I suppose you would have to hide it from him?” “how does it feel to smoke? will it feel good to try it for first time?”

"I don't want to be a bad influence for you" you chuckle "so I won't answer"

he seems to actually be thankful. as if you just saved him from doing something bad.

"thank you. If I start smoking today. I’s your fault though!” he laughs. then he asks. “what else do you do that is bad? or am I the only person that deserves to know about this side of you?”

he seems curious and even though the smile on his face remains as teasing as ever. you can see the look on his face is genuine. as if he actually wants to know about you more.

"talking about bad habits isn't exactly a good way to get to known someone new"

he laughs again. you notice how good his laugh is. he seems to do it a lot lately. he leans in again. you can smell his cologne when you get this close. “so, you are afraid I might judge you or something?”

he gives you a playful look and then adds: “i already said you were cute. so being a little naughty, does not make you any less cute." he says this playfully, and you can see that smile on his face again. he seems to enjoy teasing you.

you back on a wall of the corridor "it will affect your impression of me" but your heart skips a beat when he calls you cute

he seems to be enjoying the way you are backing up against the wall. as he can still clearly see just how pretty you are. he smiles at you, this time you can feel he is being genuine about the compliment. he gets closer to you though. he really thinks he is in charge here doesn't he?

“well, it only makes me want to know more about you. a girl who smokes cigarettes and isn't afraid of trouble... is a very rare breed these days.” he looks you up and down again. but this time with pure admiration.

"why don't you tell me what are y thinking abt?"

"you really are interested in me aren’t you?” he laughs after saying this. h thinks for a few seconds. he seems to be contemplating whether or not to disclose his thoughts to you.

"fine, I’ll tell you my thoughts. but you better not tell anyone else. I don’t want to lose my reputation.” he takes a deep breath. you can see he is nervous, and he is blushing a little.

he leans in closer and whispers in your ear "i’m wondering if you have ever kissed anyone before.”

he waits for you to respond, the same look on his lips. you sense a bit of smugness in his voice, as if he is convinced you have never kissed anyone before.

"of couse i did".

he seems surprised, and gives you a look. it’s the look a person gives you, when they know they are not in charge. you just gained a lot of power and superiority over him just now.

"what about you? have you ever kissed someone?"

he smiles, his cheeks are red now, and his whole face is blushing.

"y-yea I have.” he says it as if it’s difficult for him to admit it. your response seemed to have knocked him off his feet. his eyes are fixed to the floor, as if he is trying to decide what to do next.

you decide to shoot your shot being flirtatious"do you wanna kiss me?"

he looks up and seems shocked. he blushes even more as you say this, his cheeks are as red as a beet now. your confidence has made him completely speechless. he whispers so only you can hear his voice, while also pulling you closer into him. "may I?”

"yeah"

he leans in and gently kisses you on the lips. It’s sweet and gentle but very passionate. you notice just how soft his lips are.he is blushing as you kiss, and so do you. his lips are soft and smooth, you feel them against yours and you find the experience very calming and pleasant.

you place your hand on his cheek and they get even redder, as he continues to hold his lips against yours. he enjoys the kiss very much.

he breaks the kiss after a bit and looks at you. "that was nice.” a broad smile was on his lips. he looks so happy and full of life. you can see all the tension fall away as his shoulders slowly relax.

"well, i have to go to class now"youi say and unlean from the wall" see you" and you start walking away

"wait.” he calls out when you are already half way on your way to the potions class. "you are not telling anyone are you?”he still has that smile on his face and you can see that he wants to continue this conversation. he seems hooked to knowing more about you. He is obsessed. he wants to know what that "cool girl" energy of yours looks like, and how far you are willing to take things with him.

"of course not. i dont wanna be seen with the spoiled playboy theodore nott" you say and get into your classroom, not giving him the chance to say anything else.

he watches you leave. he is completely flabbergasted and speechless. he is not used to girls treating him like this. he has not noticed this side of you. theo is completely in love now. you are beautiful and mysterious in his eyes. he feels like he got a peek behind the curtains. a private performance.

he watches you leave and then continues to the potions classroom. he is lost in his thoughts, trying to piece together why you acted in the way you just did. you are not like any other girl he knows in Hogwarts. and he wants to know more.

[lunaencantada]

Last week I was able to watch Wish and I'm really sad because I was ready to defend the film. It does its job, it entertained me for a while, I had a great time with King Magnifico, I love the design of Queen Amaya (hehe Dama of Elche inspired) and of Asha, the star is cute….

But.

With each passing day, the more disappointed I am with the film. I understand the idea, but I don't like the execution. My only interest is the villain, and I don't even know if we can call him that: he's a man who suffered a traumatic experience as a young child and has built a kingdom trying to protect his people and his dreams. Yes, he's a narcissist and obviously his motivation is not entirely good (he seeks recognition from others and stuff), but he's doing his job and people are giving him their wishes because they want to, not against their will.

There is a new element in the equation (the star) that could take all this away from him, perhaps repeating the destruction of his first home. It is his greatest fear, which is why he does not grant most wishes. What if something bad happens. What if they use it against us. Trauma. In a desperate moment he turns to a book that we later learn corrupts you or whatever you want to call it, there's no turning back. Asha creates the villain of her story, who otherwise wouldn't have wanted to do any of that.

But the worst thing for me was looking for a picture of Magnifico and Amaya when they were young to show a friend something and confusing him with Ballister from Nimona. And that's when something clicked in my head.

Disney was making Nimona. Disney was making it and they cancelled the film. Did Disney STEAL the designs they were using for Nimona to use them for Wish?

Is the fact that Nimona was finally going to be released the reason why there are so many changes from concept art to final product? Amaya can't be bad because, hm, what separates her from The Director then? People have complained that Magnifico's eyes are too big, hm, I wonder who has been praised these past few months for their big puppy eyes.

And the star. It was a shapeshifter boy. A goddamn shapeshifter.

And I was browsing the art book and. IS THAT AN OTTER.

WHO I KNOW WHO IS ALSO A SHAPESHIFTER WHO IS SOMETIMES AN OTTER?

Of course I have no complaints about the people who have worked on the film, the art teams, animators, etc. I'm sure they worked hard and it looks like the people at the top made decisions and then they had to work twice as hard to try and remedy the problems.

But then you look at the other people who worked on the film and the voice actors ……………….. They take Israel's side? Oh jesus

What a mess.

[cressidagrey]

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 5: Hyacinth, Florist

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Azriel showed up bright and early the day after his break ended. For a week Cassian had heard not even a peep from Azriel. 

And then Azriel walked into the House of Wind, looking none the worse for wear.

“How was your break?” Cassian asked him, taking him in. Looking no different than he ever had before. Though not relaxed. The exact opposite to be honest. 

“Can we spar?” Azriel asked in response and Cassian’s brows rose. 

Ouch. That break had seemingly not gone that well. 

“That bad, hm?” he asked, though just nodded towards the sparring ring. “How’s your Ma?” he asked and Azriel just stared at him. 

“She’s as good as she can get,” he snapped back. Right.

His expression must have shown his shock, because Azriel held still for a moment, seemingly forcing himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment...

“ I am in a mood,” Azriel warned him, finally. “Don’t go easy on me.”

“I wasn’t aware that I ever did,” Cassian quipped. 

He should have probably taken that warning more seriously. 

He didn’t. 

Azriel nearly had him tapping out within the first few minutes. 

There was an aggression behind his fighting that Cassian had only seen very rarely. An aggression that belied Azriel just “being in a mood”. 

This wasn’t just being in a mood. 

This was feral levels of aggression. This was being so upset that Azriel needed to hit something to get it out and clearly Cassian was that something of choice that day. 

Azriel won. Of course, he did. he wanted it far more than Cassian did. 

“You broke my fucking nose,” he complained afterwards, spitting out the blood. The nose was thankfully the only broken bone. Though he was definitely gonna feel the bruises for a few days. 

Azriel seemed on a more even keel though, so Cassian would gladly take the broken nose. 

 “I am sorry,” Azriel apologised earnestly. 

And that was that. 

Az seemed back to his usual levels of weirdness, no longer randomly wanting his first break after 500 years, no more comments about table linens…and sometimes Cassian even thought that he caught his brother smiling softly, pleased at something.

He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Still, Cassian had more pressing problems. Like what he should buy Nesta for her birthday…Mor decided to tag along which was decisively unhelpful. How could a female who clearly liked shopping for herself be so completely horrible at choosing gifts for her family? 

“Wait, is that Az?” Mor said suddenly as they left another shop empty-handed. Cassian’s head swivelled around. 

And it was indeed Az, standing around at a flower cart, clearly chatting to the owner. 

By the cauldron, had Cassian been right all along?!?

Mor and him exchanged a glance, both of them narrowing down to their brother just a few feet away from him. 

“Which flowers?” Azriel asked at that moment, clearly contemplating two different bouquets. The female on the other side of the card was pretty, delicate with fluttering wings resembling a butterfly, and bright blue hair that was cropped close to her head. 

A Palote Fairy. Clearly far from home in the summer court. 

Maybe that was why Azriel had been keeping her a secret. Maybe it was some unfounded worry of her being a lesser fairie. 

Did Az and her take long leisurely flights over Velaris and go picnicking? Somehow that seemed like the kind of thing she would enjoy. Their children would probably end up being the most magical thing that Cassian had ever seen. He wondered what wings would turn out to be the dominant ones. The idea of an Illyrian with butterfly wings was definitely something, that much was certain. 

“Jasmine these days. She hasn’t talked about anything since you bought them the first time,” said butterfly girl told Azriel, smiling prettily at him. 

Cassian held back a noise that Mor would have never let him life down. Something akin to a squeal threatened to come out of his throat. 

Was this the female Azriel was stupidly in love with? 

She clearly seemed to be nice enough not to turn down his advances flat out, instead both of them happily chatting. 

“Thank you, Hyacinth,” Azriel thanked her as Hyacinth , which must be her name started wrapping a bundle of dark blooming jasmines for him. He handed her a couple of coins, as she gave him the flowers, not for one moment flinching away from his scars. 

“Will you be there on Friday?” Hyacinth asked him, excitement apparent in her voice. 

Where are they going to have a date? 

“I have been told that my attendance is mandatory. Because I need to learn how to swing my hips like a proper male,” Azriel responded, his usual dry humour apparent. Cassian could still only stare. 

They were going to have a date!

“You’ll have a fantastic teacher,” Hyacinth said with a wink. 

“Oh, I expect nothing less,” Azriel agreed.

A fantastic teacher. Was Hyacinth going to be the teacher? 

Mor dragged Cassian along with a hand on his arm, calling for Azriel. “Az!”

“Mor. Cassian,” Azriel greeted them, not seeming surprised at all at their sudden appearance. Nor particularly displeased about it or hesitant. 

“Don’t you want to introduce us to your girlfriend?” Mor said, sounding giddy as they arrived at Azriel’s side. 

Yes, Azriel, introduce us to your girlfriend, Cass mentally agreed unable to keep the bright grin off his face. 

What he hadn’t expected was for the blue-haired female to burst into laughter. 

“ Hyacinth is married,” Azriel said drily. “And definitely not my girlfriend.”

And Cassian’s hopes were shattered once again. 

“I am very much spoken for. He is too,” Hyacinth responded, still trying to starve down the laughter, and failing horribly. 

Damnit. 

“What brings you two here?” Azriel asked, still holding onto his flower bouquet.  

“Well, Cassian needs help with a gift for Nesta,” Mor said brightly. “I offered my help.”

Azriel stared at him like Cassian had grown a second head. 

Quite frankly, it was understandable.

But Mor had offered her input and he hadn’t been able to politely turn her down. 

“What’s in that bag?” Azriel asked, nodding to the one lone shopping back that Cassian held, sounding like he didn’t want to know. 

“Well…” Cassian started but Azriel just shook his head. 

“You know what, I don’t want to know. Come on,” he said drily, the flowers disappearing from his hand, being whisked away by his shadows somewhere. “I’ll see you on Friday, Hyacinth!” He called over his shoulder, Hyacinth waving them off the ring to the next customer. 

“Where are we going?” He dared to ask, trailing after Azriel, who walked around the Rainbow like he knew every cobblestone personally. Maybe he did. Goodness knew what Azriel’s shadows got up to when they weren’t busy spying for Rhys. 

“We’ll buy Nesta a proper birthday gift,” Azriel said with a roll of his eyes. 

Mor stopped at a clothing store, staring at a dress in the window. “I’ll catch up with you!” she said brightly and off she went, leaving Cassian with this gift debacle.

 “Mor, really?” Azriel asked with a sigh as soon as she had entered the store.  

“Who else was I supposed to ask?” Cassian gave back defensively.

“Feyre? Elain? Emerie? Gwyn? Rhys?” Azriel suggested drily. “Hell, Amren would have been better.” He muttered under his breath. 

Azriel stopped at a smaller store, the dark blue signage proclaiming it an understated “ The Goldmine”. 

He had never even noticed the shop when he had been in the Rainbow, though a giggling group of young High Faes was leaving it. 

Clearly, it was well-liked in the community. 

Azriel pushed open the door, waving him through.   

“Good Morning,” Azriel greeted the High Fae at the counter, a rounded female with green eyes, a pale complexion, and curly light brown hair. She was very pretty in an unassuming way and greeted Azriel wide-eyed. 

The Goldmine was clearly a jewellery shop, with merchandise laid out in the glass cases on the walls and in the middle of the room. 

Cassian was already feeling slightly overwhelmed and he hadn’t even been asked to pick out anything yet. 

“Oh, I am so sorry, she isn’t there currently,” the High Fae blurted out, blushing as soon as she saw Azriel.  

“I know,” Azriel agreed, looking not surprised in the least. Cassian wondered who they were talking about. “She’s out shopping with Briony. But that’s not why I am here.” That also didn’t answer any of the questions he was having. “Cassian, that’s Penelope,” Azriel introduced Cassian.  “Penelope, Cassian, my brother. Cassian needs a birthday gift for his mate,” Azriel explained patiently. Cassian approached the counter that Azriel was leaning against with some trepidation. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Penelope greeted him. “What does your mate like to wear as jewellery?” She asked, all business and Cassian drew a blank. 

He could write whole books about what Nesta liked and disliked. He could. 

But right now, he had no idea. 

“Hairpins that double as Stiletto Blades,” he blurted out. Penelope stared at him, green eyes wide. 

“We…We don’t really sell that?” she offered up hesitantly, while Azriel next to him was silently shaking with laughter before he swallowed it down and decided to be helpful. 

“You had new hair combs coming in, didn’t you?” Azriel asked and for one moment Cassian wondered why Azriel knew what kind of new shipments a jewellery store got. 

“We did!” Penelope agreed immediately, pulling out a tray from behind the counter. 

Cassian heard the bell ring behind him, and Azriel waved off Penelope apologising as she started to take care of the newest customer. 

Instead, he took the tray and pushed it in Cassian’s direction. 

“How am I supposed to pick?” he asked with no small amount of trepidation at the dozen choices laid out before him. Every style imagination, in gold and silver and whatever other metal there were there. 

“Pick one that reminds you of Nesta,” Azriel said easily. “And if you only like the shape of one, the gems can be easily changed out,” Azriel assured him, as he picked up one comb, turning it around in scarred hands. 

Cassian went back to staring at the hair combs. 

Every single one of them was a separate work of art. Some more intricate than others. Some with careful engravings, some set with stones, others letting the metal do the talking. He didn’t dare to touch them, even when Azriel carefully turned them in his hands and checked them over. 

“This is moonstone and yellow gold,” Azriel explained softly as he pointed out one with a row of milky-white stones set in yellow gold. “This is amber. Probably from the beaches of Summer Court…This is white opal,” he said as he pointed out another two. 

Cassian’s gaze kept being pulled back to intricate designs with swirls set in diamonds and some kind of red stone, too dark to be ruby. Azriel followed his gaze. 

“You could have the garnets replaced with your siphons,” he suggested evenly. 

“They can do that?” Cassian asked surprised and Azriel gave a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“How did you find this place?” Cassian asked curiously. This wasn’t…Azriel had never worn any kind of jewellery. or at least none that Cassian had ever seen…Azriel picked out the comb that Cassian had picked, turning it over in his hands…and for the first time Cassian saw a thin bracelet stretching over his wrist. It was so black that it would would easily sink into the black of his fighting leathers, so of course that would have made sure that Cassian didn’t notice it. But right now Az wasn’t wearing fighting leathers but a simple dark shirt, and so it stood out more against his skin. 

“I know the owner,” Azriel answered the question, his voice quiet. His scent changed suddenly, to Cassian’s surprise from contentment to happiness. 

“Did you ever buy anything from here?” he asked and Azriel hummed. 

“Of sorts.”

“How can you buy something from sorts?” Cassian wondered. How did that even work? 

“If the person doesn’t let you pay in money, does that count as buying?” Azriel gave back with a shrug. 

What? “How else would you pay?” Cassian asked. How? 

“I get a special discount,” Azriel told him sagely. 

“For what?” Cassian asked and then his jaw dropped when…suddenly it…Was Azriel paying for whatever he bought with sex? 

His brother hit him on the back of his head with zero hesitation. 

“Not that ,” Azriel told him drily. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Cassian snapped. 

"It was written all over your face," Azriel replied, rolling his eyes. “I know the owner. That’s why I get a special discount.”

Fine. 

Still, the hair comb was a way better gift than anything that anything he had come up with lately, so he thanked his brother for that. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Azriel responded easily.

Cassian should just really give up trying to figure out who was Azriel’s special somebody. He was never going to get it right.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Family Matters

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Thor Odinson

Summary: your new husband's brother surprises you with a visit.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The doorbell rings again and you barrel so quickly down the stairs, you nearly topple off the bottom step. You catch your breath and grab the post at the bottom of the banister to steady yourself. It’s a splendid house but you told Loki it’s too big for just the two of you. He didn’t like that so you didn’t mention it again, even though it feels empty with how much he’s not around. 

You let those worries slake off of you and hurry to the door. It could be another surprise! Loki hates leaving you for so long so he tries to fill the void with gifts. Sometimes, they make you feel better, other times, you’re just sad. You’d rather have him there. 

It’s not a courier but a familiar face. Your brother-in-law. It’s official as of one month ago. You’re family. 

“Oh, hi,” you deflate, trying not to show your disappointment. You’re not upset it’s him, you just hate being the one to say, “Loki’s not in.” 

Thor smiles. He’s rarely unhappy. “Ah, that’s unfortunate. Where is off to, then?” 

“Work,” you grumble the repetitive explanation. “Important project or something.” 

“Important enough to leave you alone?” He wonders. 

“I... guess,” you try not to mope. Loki says it make you look childish. 

“Well, I am much in the same boat. Alone,” he laughs hollowly. 

“Oh, yes, I... how are you doing?” You ask. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for coming to the wedding. Really, I know it must’ve been difficult.” 

“I couldn’t miss my brother’s special day,” he shakes his head. “It was a day for love. Wasn’t your fault mine decided to leave...” 

Your heart breaks for him. The day you were married, Frigga told you what happened. A hug fight right after your rehearsal dinner. Jane left before the morning. Despite all that, Thor didn’t show a hint of grief at the wedding. 

“It’s too bad. I liked Jane.” 

“Needless to say, I did too,” he smiles thinly. “Well, I hope I didn’t disturb you very much. I suppose I could come calling tomorrow and hope my brother isn’t too busy for the likes of me.” 

Your heart rents for him. Here you are, a new marriage, a husband to long for, and he lost his girlfriend of five years. You don’t have much else going on, it would be nice to have someone there. 

“Did you wanna hang around for a bit?” You ask. “Not much going on but... this place is eerie when you’re all alone.” 

“Hm, did Loki say when he would return? Wouldn’t mind waiting around a bit,” he suggests. 

“I hope soon but he didn’t say,” you shrug. “Yesterday he wasn’t home until midnight.” 

“Midnight? He would make you wait so long? A lovely young wife like you?” He scoffs. “Well, that is just terrible. I will not commit the same crime as my brother. I’d love to come in.” 

“Alright,” you smile. “I... we could put something on? I was going to watch the new season of the true crime show.” 

“Ha,” he enters as you step back to let you through. “That wouldn’t help being alone, would it?” 

“I guess not,” you giggle. “We could watch something else. A comedy. I’ve been rewatching Friends. For the hundredth time.” 

“Whatever you like,” he slips his shoes off and puts them on the mat. “The only words a woman like you needs to hear, eh?” 

You laugh again, “do you want snacks? I got some caramel corn and gummy bears.” 

“My brother let you bring those in his house?” He wonders. 

“It’s our house,” you face him with a pout as you stand in the broad archway to the front room. 

“Yes, you are correct. My apologies,” he follows. “You know, he only hates those sugary treats because he is weak to them. Be sure to hide them well or you might find some missing.” 

“No, he never wants any,” you continue into the front room. 

“So he wants you to believe,” Thor counters. 

“How about drinks? We got a bunch of wine from the wedding. Some scotch?” 

“I only really indulge in lager and I'm not of the mood for it,” he assures. “I could help with the snacks.” 

“No, no, sit,” you grab the remote and hold it out to him. “Find something to watch. I’m so indecisive I just flick through the menu for an hour.” 

“I will do my best,” he accepts it. His hand dwarfs you own as his fingers brush across yours. Loki’s hands are long, but not as thick. 

You push your shoulders up and spin around to flit off to the kitchen. You scurry away and slide into the kitchen. You go to the cupboard and take down the bag of caramel corn. You pour some in a bowl then grab the package of gummy bears and a box of cream cookies. 

As you come back to the living room, Thor leans forward to set the down the remote. You put the treats on the glass table and sit on the other end of the couch. You only realise then how awkward it is. You’ve never really been alone with him. 

“Thank you. So sweet of you to have me,” he says as he twines his fingers together. “I feel as if everyone has been avoiding me since Jane. I fear I might be a bit... melancholy.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you glance at the TV as it plays an intro to a show you don’t know, “well, how can anyone blame you? You’re going through so much.” 

“I’m an adult, these things happen,” he says. 

“Sure, they do, but I mean, it still hurts. It’s not easy,” you insist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” 

“Ugh,” he puts his elbows on his legs and cradles his head. “I don’t mean to bring my dark cloud in here.” He rubs his temple. “Truly, I think I’ve been trying to outrun it but... what else can I think of with only an empty home to go to?” 

“Oh, Thor,” you sidle closer on the cushions. You gently touch his arm. His bicep is a lot bigger against your hand. “It’s okay. You can’t hold it in forever. It's good to feel these things. Once you get through that, you can move on and I’m sure you’ll find the right one.” 

He sniffles and you flinch. He quakes against your touch and your chest knots. You never imagined him crying. Especially not a man his size. You don’t know what else to do but comfort him. You rub his shoulder and he huddles over further and wipes his face. 

His long blond locks conceal his tears as he mops his sadness away with his knuckles. You hum and get even closer, your hand trailing up his back. 

“Thor, I'm sorry. It feels so cruel, I know. Especially the timing of it--” 

He startles you as he leans against you. You let out an ‘oop’ as he turns to embrace you, curling his shoulders and hunching to put his head on your shoulder. You have no choice but to let him. 

“Oh, it’s been awful,” he snivels. “I’ve been so lonely.” 

“Shhh, let it out, that’s okay,” you rub his back and stare at the wall. You certainly didn’t expect the night to go like this. 

He holds you tight as he cries against you, his body heaving. You know Loki isn’t the best for these sorts of things so you’re happy at least he trusts you enough to listen. That’s about as much as you can do. 

“You won’t believe how cruel she was,” Thor rasps. “She just yelled and yelled. She shoved me and—she just kept accusing me.” 

“Accusing you? Of what?” 

He’s quiet for a moment. He lifts his head to look at you, his arm across your back. “Of wanting another.” 

“Oh?” You blink in surprise. 

“I told her no, no, I did not, but she kept saying “I see it! I see it in your face!” And I swore to her, no, no,” He wipes his face with his other hand, “but now I’m afraid she might have been right.” 

“She... who?” You frown. 

His arm wraps around you, his fingers dipping into your side and in a moment, the couch shifts beneath you. You cannot resist as surprise paralyses you. Thor lifts you easily onto his lap, turning you and sliding you to sit on his thighs. 

“Woah, uh, whaat--” You press your hand to his chest. “Please, Thor, you’re emotional--” 

“She was right, kitten, you are so soft, so gentle, and I could not look away. She caught me--” 

“No, no, you can’t-- Loki--” 

“Loki leaves you alone. He would rather work than stay and adore his precious wife,” He cups your chin and forces you to look at him. “He would abandon you...” he leans in as his eyes fall to your lips, “and leave you unkissed.” 

You try to pull back but you’re trapped in his embrace. He squeezes you close and crushes his lips to yours. You squeal and struggle against him, finally turning your head so his mouth smears across your cheek. 

“Untouched,” his hand trails down your neck and you clasp onto two of his fingers, straining to keep him from going lower. “Unloved--” 

“Thor, stop, let me go--” 

He leans over so your back is on the cushion, his arm beneath you as your legs are folded up over his. He is on his side next to you. His large hand comes back to frame your face and he squeezes to keep you from squirming. You tug as his shirt and whine. 

“Thor, please, stop. We can forget--” 

“I can’t forget,” he growls and nuzzles your nose. You whimper and push against his chest again. He is stone, he is unmoving, and you know you cannot stop him. “I will never forget how you feel against me, kitten.” 

[skriblee-ksk]

Adeline Ordelia

Summary:

[An elegant and diligent student who seems to know exactly what she wants. She has a strong sense of justice and an aptitude for efficiency. A girl who always strives to find the truth in the name of justice, she politely detaches herself from the students of NRC out of caution because of their questionable demeanors.]

[Despite her initial awkward air, she actually has a habit of delicately (yet strictly) taking care of those who need it with a crazy amount of patience. It’s like she has experience at this.]

General Info!

Name: Adeline Ordelia

Nicknames: Adelia and Silver (only used by Cynthia to annoy her).

Birthday: August 12

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight

Dominant Hand: Right

Hobbies: Reading, Embroidery, Book binding, Journaling, and Scheduling the day.

Likes: Star Anise Tea, Victorian Styled Buildings and Outfits (or whatever equivalent in TWST), Solving Mysteries, and Chatting with Cynthia.

Dislikes: Celery and The nickname “Silver”.

Fears: Ghosts (and the specifics of after-death).

Traits: A natural talent for elegancy, Having a strong urge to do the right thing, and Dissuading people efficiently from bad decisions.

Extra Information: She has a sibling-like close friend who attends RSA, Her favorite color is a deep blue, She likes stargazing (casual), She's memorized half of Heartslabyul's rules by Year 1, and is attempting to memorize the rest by the end of this year (for fun).

“Reveal the site of what once was.” Snapshot Evidence: Adelia’s unique magic that can be used with any picture (physical or digital). To use this properly, she must think of a specific person and a specific time, and if that person was at the place she took the photo of during the time she was thinking about, the person appears in the photo permanently. It's a particular spell with a penalty system that creates more blot if she's wrong than when she's right. Thankfully, Adelia's cautious and meticulous, so it's rare for her to ever be wrong in the rare times she does use this power. Although her photos are generally known to be true through others' confirmations of events, it's not completely trusted by others because she can't solidly prove that these photo manipulations are an exact illustration of what happened. Unknown if it can accurately predict the future.

More about her under cut!!

Curiosity:

Housewarden Riddle’s overblot wasn’t the first one I witnessed.

The first one was just down my neighborhood, when I was about… Hm. 7 years old. I was coming back from a walk with my escorts when I saw Styx members quarantining the overblotted person. Mm, I guess I couldn’t call them a person anymore. I didn’t get to see much of it. I wasn’t tall enough. Still, I could see some of the damage caused to the nearby buildings, with pitch black ink dripping down and slithering through the cracks of the sidewalk.

Apparently, the sight wasn’t morbid enough since it didn’t pique my curiosity enough for me to learn about it.

Of course, until now.

Why, you may ask? Well, because I know about the basics of blot accumulation and overblots now, first off. But more importantly, because Housewarden Riddle wasn’t the last overblot I witnessed.

Doesn’t anyone else find this strange? Doesn’t anyone else find this dangerous?

Doesn’t anyone else want to piece together this awful trend? Or is it just a minor every day event for them? Are you aware of what’s happening?

It was merely sympathy at first. I respect Housewarden Riddle, and there must have been a great deal of trauma involved for him to get to that state. That’s what I told Cynthia.

But two in a row? Both of them are Housewardens. And so close in time, too. Aren’t overblots supposed to be rare? That’s why I’m curious.

Will this trend continue? And if it does, what am I going to do about it?

“What do you want to do about it?”

“I want… to help stop it.”

“I mean, you always have the choice of ignoring it, you know. Like most others do?”

“… Then why did you even ask—“

“Well, just in case~ Even though I already knew the ever-so-righteous Adelia wouldn’t just ignore it.”

“So that’s your goal, right?”

Gather data on the overblots and see if there’s any future ones.

If there are, figure out the reason.

Ultimately, help stop it, but keep others’ safe until I can find a way.

“Wow, that’s a lot. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Even if I don’t get to all of my objectives, it’s good experience. And you’re already invested in this potential mystery, aren’t you?”

“Ehe, correct!”

I want to help people. I can’t tell you the reason, but I do. I want to save you. Even in minor ways. Even in final ways. Even if you don’t want to be saved, I want to anyway. I’m sorry.

It’s just because I’m curious.

- - -

A/N: YAYYY basically done with the YAI to TWST pipeline!!! Here's Adelia, my other daughter and the other main character of Your Artificial Image that I missed so much.

In here, basically what Adelia and Cynthia do is just. Try and find out what's happening with the overblots, and try and stop them. Near Book 5, Adelia decides to pair up with (threaten) the Headmage and get more access to the student files. Anyways, that's how those two will get more and more involved within the main story!!! I will expand more on them, hopefully. While Cynthia does things for the sake of doing, Adelia always has a reason for her actions, and that's what makes them suit each other so well!!

AND NOW!! With them, I’ll be able to draw other characters I don’t draw as much because their personalities suit other TWST characters’ dynamics!! YIPPEE YIPPEE WHAT JOY!!!!!!

anyways. yeah. thanks.

[imahinatjon]

Doubt

Dazai x Reader

I Don't like sad/bad endings.

PART 1

"Osamu,

I'm leaving this short letter for you to read when you wake up. By now you should already know I'm not there. That's because I've left. During the night. I came to a conclusion that our relationship was not working, we weren't working, we don't belong together. It hurts me to say this, but it's true. I'm sorry. For leaving like this, but I'm afraid it's the only way. I'm sorry. I really am.

Love, YN"

Of all people is was Kunikida who came to see him. Of course, Kunikida's reasons weren't born from concern, but rather, annoyance. Dazai had missed work. Only for a day but, well, we all know how kunikida is with his schedule.

So of course he went to drag Dazai off to work.

Knocking the door felt wrong though. Call it a detectives intuition, but something was up. Something had happened, and it probably wasn't good.

So he let himself in.

The atmosphere was dark, sour. All colour and life drained from the small apartment shared by two.

Dazai wasn't hard to find either. He was sat quietly in the living room, thinking to himself. He didn't even flinch when Kunikida approached.

The letter was on the floor, inviting the blonde to invade the privacy of the couple living here. He didn't think Dazai would mind.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know"

"Why did they leave?"

"I don't know"

"What happened"

Dazai was silent then. He didn't know what happened. But had been forming an idea in his head on what it could have been.

"I'm not sure..."

"But I might need a favor"

Had this been anyone else who just up and went missing, Dazai would probably be able to find them. But, he wasn't in his best heads pace.

Even back in the office he was still somewhat moping around, despite the usual facade he tried to keep up.

If anyone could find where you went, it was Ranpo...

And probably anyone who was actually thinking properly.

"They went 'home'"

"Home? Wh- ohhh"

"Back to their parents, Guarantee that's why they quit their job too"

"Wait, quit?"

"Hmm. Fukuzawa hasn't exactly put that through yet though. Keeping the decision on hold"

Of course. If you'd come in and quit out of the blue, they were going to know something was up. And they wouldn't be just letting you go without so much as a question.

Now he knew where you were though. Back with your parents.

He knew something happened when you visited together. That your mother probably gave you an idea that had plagued your mind. He just wished he'd asked about it when he had the chance. Maybe you would have spoken to him?

No time for that now though. He had to go over to see you.

Convince you to come back.

Your parents house wasn't too far away. So he was knocking on the door in no time.

Your mother looked around thr sitting room, having heard the door knock. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly stood from where she sat, opening the door with a subtle scowel on her face.

"Oh, Dazai... right? What is it?" She asked, trying to ease her face somewhat.

"Is YN here? I need to see them"

"Yeah... what did they do this time?" she huffed

"Nothing. We just need to talk"

"Hm"

"Please?"

"No"

"It's not really your choice"

"Look, if they haven't reached out to you, then ovbiously they don't want to talk. So get off my doorstep... and don't bother knocking again"

This was not the woman he met that day.

Dazai stepped back, not really wanting to cause a scene. He didn't want to deal with your mother, he wanted to deal with you.

So he made his way around the back of the house, finding his own way to see you.

"Who was that?" You asked your mother, walking out of the kitchen to where she just sat back down.

"No one important"

"Kinda sounded like Dazai...?"

"If you knew that then why did you bother asking?!" She snapped.

You discreetly rolled your eyes and walked out. Heading up to your room, you noticed your door slightly creaked open.

You knew who it was. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't exited. But you were nervous, afraid of the consequences of just leaving the way you did.

Swallowing the nervous bile rising in your throat you opened the door fully, stepping inside your room to face the man you loved so dearly.

You don't even question how he got in.

"YN"

You didn't say anything, just stood beside the door, keeping your distance.

"YN"

He called you again. You should go to him. Talk to him, sit beside him. His face doesn't let you in on how he's feeling, but...

You needed to ask him. You hated this feeling of uncertainty.

"I'm sorry" you said. Shutting the door behind you, and leaning nervously against the wall beside it.

"I had to... y'know..."

"Why?" He couldn't fathom why you had to leave.

"Didn't you read my note? I told you, it wasn't right! The relationship, it just wasn't working"

"Then we make it work!" He didn't raise his voice, he didn't want to be discovered by your mother downstairs, but the expression he let slip was shouting, desperate. Only to be hidden behind an unsettling calm once again.

He released a breath "we talk about what's wrong, why you don't think it's working, and we make it work... unless..." He didn't even want to think about that option, but had to accept it was a possibility, so with a quiet voice, he asked

"Unless you really don't love me"

Your breath caught in your throat. He thought that? Really?

"It's not that dazai. I love you, more than anything. I want nothing more than to be by your side for an Eternity, but I know that it can't happen. I know I'm not good enough, I know I don't do enough, I know I'm useless, I know I'm difficult, and I know you don't love me the way I love you. I can't do that to you or myself" you curled in on yourself, sitting on the floor as you let your feelings spill to him, as you told him your truth.

"I can't selfishly keep you tied to someone like me"

Dazai stared at you for a while, contemplating what you had said.

It was as though you were reading his thoughts. You told him exactly what he'd been thinking. But... those were your thoughts?

"Whoever told you that?" He whispered, sad smile coming to his face and he moved to kneel down infront of you.

"Who said you weren't good enough? When have you ever beeb lazy? Or useless? Your everything to me, and more, your perfect, for me, to me..."

He held your hands up in his own

"How is it selfish to love a man who loves you tenfold"

"I'm... you what?"

"Surely you weren't so silly as to think I didn't love you? I asked you to live with me, I asked you to date me for a reason"

"And thinking back... you must have said yes for a reason?" He asked

You couldn't answer, words caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill. So instead, all you did was launch forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to hide and cry into his shoulder.

You should have spoken to him sooner. Maybe this would have been avoided.

Dazai gently stroked your hair, and held an arm around your back. He wasn't about to interuppt you. But... he'd probably have too soon.

"How about you gather your things and we go back home?"

Pulling back go wipe your eyes you nodded, smile small but present.

He helped you put the few small things you took with you in a bag. He climbed out of your window (telling you how he also got in) and took your bag with him.

You headed downstairs to leave through the front door.

"Where you going?" Your mother asked, standing in the living room doorframe.

"Out"

She raised an eyebrow

"Whatever" she childishly huffed and walked off. Leaving you to your own devices.

So you left.

*extra*

Kunikida sat impatiently in the car, tapping on the steering wheel waiting for you and Dazai. He came along because he was a concerned for your mental heath and wellbeing (and maybe Dazai's too) but now he wished he hadn't, as he waited for you two to get in the car, instead of standing outside hugging and sharing a few pecks and laughs like you spent a whole year a part.

It's been a day! Nearly 2!

When you did eventually get in the car, he was already speeding off, desperate to get back to work.

But not before telling you

"You two really need to work on your communication"

_________________________________________

Not yet proofread.

Masterlist :3

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 9

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Okay, for the next one,” said Danny, doodling on a piece of paper, “I think I’m going to pick from the older end again.  Like, I’ve done number one, number five, and number seven, so that leaves two, three, four and six.  Could just do the middle one, four.  That’s the biggest group.  Or I could do one of the single people.”

“You could pick any of them,” said Clockwork.  He placed another piece into the puzzle he was working on at the dining room table.  

“I know,” said Danny.  “I’m just thinking out loud.”  He’d been leaving Clockwork’s after breakfast, but he’d broken that habit this time around.  It was almost noon.  He just couldn’t make up his mind.  

Part of him wondered if he should have stayed with Vlad a bit longer.  Maybe he could have pushed him to tell the truth.  But… he didn’t know how Vlad would have reacted to that.  What if it had been bad?  

On the other hand, it might have been good to know if his reaction to being pushed had been bad.  If it had been, Danny would have known not to pick him.  Maybe… maybe deciding to leave was a little… cowardly.  

“Hey, Clockwork?”

“Yes?”  He looked up from the puzzle, but kept inserting pieces.  

“Am I different than I was with my memory?  Like, am I acting different than I would have, if I still remembered?”

“Of course.  You would have knowledge that you currently do not, if you remembered.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Sure, I get that.  But what about… I’m… Am I acting like, not as… brave?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Vlad said I was sort of a, I don’t know, a superhero, kind of.”

“I see.”

“But I kind of feel like if I had been, then I’d be more…  I would have acted differently, with Vlad.”

“Hm,” said Clockwork.  “I think I understand what you mean.”

“And?” prompted Danny.  

“And, I have often found that it is easier to be brave if you have something to be brave for.  When it is not a choice so much as it is a necessity.  You do not need to be brave, here.  This isn’t one of those situations.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I am,” said Clockwork.  “You aren’t unmonitored, when you are visiting the candidates.  Part of my role is to enforce the rules.”

“I don’t really see how that means I don’t need to be brave in this situation.  I kind of feel like there’s a lot I need to be brave about, here.  I could be hiding out in my room instead of out here.”

“You could be.”

“But I’m not.  I’d say that was… brave…  Wait, that’s not the position I was arguing before.”

“It is not,” said Clockwork.  

Danny scowled at him, then slouched down in his chair.  “You know what else is brave?  Your new decorative choices.”

The walls of the kitchen - not to mention the rest of the house - were now covered in clocks of various sizes and shapes.  

“Mhm.  Well, in your absence, I must occupy myself.”  

Danny looked around the room again, eyes lingering on the clocks.  “I don’t know that I’m that… occupying.  Like, I’ve not been here for more than a day at a time, and usually less than that.”  He hesitated.  “And we don’t… do that much together, do we?”

“We’re doing things together now.”

“I’m mostly just complaining at you about my choices, but okay.”

“Even so.”

“What if I just… take another day?  To decide who to go to next, I mean.”

“Take as long as you want.  In the meantime, you could help me with this puzzle.”

“Or,” proposed Danny, “we could play some video games together.  A lot of the ones I like are multiplayer.”

Clockwork put the remaining puzzle pieces back in the box.  “We can certainly try that.  I’ve never played before.”

Danny grinned.  “I think you’ll like it.”

.

“Are you sure you’ve never played before?” asked Danny.  

“Quite.”

“You’re good.”

“I have always prided myself on my timing.”

Danny groaned as he died again.  

.

“Okay, I’ve made my decision,” said Danny, a few days later.  Breakfast that day consisted of french toast.

“Really?”

“You don’t have to sound so skeptical.”

“This is my normal voice.”

“Is it?”

“It is.  What is your choice?” asked Clockwork.   

“Eager to get rid of me?”

“I am merely curious.”

“Sure,” said Danny.  “Sure you are.”

“Daniel,” said Clockwork, with a faint air of exasperation.  

“I want to visit the third person,” said Danny.  “I figure I might as well be symmetrical.”

“It’s as good a system as any.  Do you want to leave now, or later?”

“Now,” said Danny.  He did not say, ‘before I change my mind again.’

“Very well.”  

Clockwork raised his staff, a spark of blue swirling off the tip.  The portal would form in just a split second.  

“I’ll miss you,” blurted Danny, impulsively.  

Clockwork’s eyes widened slightly, but he did not respond before the portal swept Danny away.  

The first thing Danny noticed about the new place was how cold it was.  He wrapped his arms around himself, and cursed himself for not realizing that someone named Frostbite of the Far Frozen would live somewhere cold.  

“Oh, dear,” said a deep voice.  “Great one, my apologies.  I did not realize your core would be inactivated.”

Danny was bundled into a pair of furry arms and swept away to a much warmer area.  That wasn’t to say it was warm.  Just.  Warmer.  

“Oh, wow, that was cold,” said Danny.  He rubbed his arms and wrapped his tail around his knees.  

“Yes,” said Frostbite.  “Usually that’s not an issue for you.”

“I can’t imagine why not.”  Danny shot a look at his latest temporary guardian.  

Frostbite was a huge, tall, white-furred ghost.  He had a long muzzle and horns, along with ears that had more than a passing resemblance to Danny’s.  Danny ran a hand over his own ears, wondering.  Were they related somehow?  

“Generally,” said Frostbite, “in the normal course of things, that is, you are quite cold-resistant.  You have a cold core, like myself, although that aspect of your core seems to have been rendered dormant.”

“Vlad mentioned cores,” said Danny.  

Frostbite's furry eyebrows went up.  “You have already met Plasmius?”

“Um, yeah.  Just before you, actually.”

“What?!”  Frostbite patted Danny over with his large, paw-like hands.  “Did he harm you?  Are you injured?  Did he do anything to you?”

“Um,” said Danny, stepping back.  “No.  He was pretty chill actually.”

“Chill.”

“I mean, like.  He didn’t do anything bad to me.  He was pretty nice, even though he didn’t tell me we’d been enemies.  The Dairy King did.”

Frostbite got a sort of pinched look on his face.  “The Dairy King was assisting him?  How unusual.”

“I don’t know about assisting,” said Danny.  “He did tell me about how Vlad and I used to fight and all.”

“Even so,” said Frostbite.  His eyes were still roving over Danny, apparently worried.  “I would like to give you a full medical checkup.  I was unable to do so… before.”

“Before the trial?” asked Danny, tilting his head to one side.  He felt one of his ears flick.  

“Yes,” said Frostbite, heavily.

He seemed to be struggling with whether or not to say anything else, so Danny took the opportunity to look around.  

The room he was in was… strange.  There was really no other way to put it.  It was small.  Only about the size of Danny’s bedroom at home with Clockwork.  The walls, where they were visible, looked like ice-covered stone, but they mostly weren’t visible.  They were covered with layers of fur and strange tapestries.  Some of the tapestries looked more or less like Danny imagined tapestries to look: lengths of tightly-woven and embroidered fabric.  Others looked more like carpets.  Still others were embroidered furs.  The floors, too, were covered in layered furs and carpets.  Illumination was provided by globs of floating blue fire.  

Other than that, the room was empty.

“I was your doctor before, Great One.”

They looked at each other for a long moment.  Danny imagined that Frostbite was facing the same dilemma he was.  He couldn’t decide what to ask next.  He couldn’t decide what was safe to ask.  

“So, you’re a doctor?”  That seemed like a safe question.

“I am,” said Frostbite.  “Medicine for cold core ghosts is one of the specialties of my tribe.  When you have been ill or injured in the past, we have taken care of you.”

Danny hadn’t really thought all that much about the social structures of ghosts.  He remembered the Observants, and he had a vague recollection of kingdoms and tribes being a thing, but he was far more familiar with the workings of a republic, his human life taking precedence in this case.  He made a mental note to ask Frostbite more about how tribes worked later.  

“And I have a cold core like you?  That’s why you’re my doctor?”

“Yes,” said Frostbite.  

“Are we related?” asked Danny.  Frostbite’s tail - what Danny could see of it, anyway - wasn’t quite like Danny’s, but he did have white fur and pointed ears, so…

This question surprised a laugh out of Frostbite.  “It would be my honor, but, no, Great One.  Although we share some similarities, that is not one of them.”

“And you’re calling me Great One because…?”

“Because you saved my people, and, indeed, all the Infinite Realms, from a terrible fate when Plasmius released Pariah Dark, the old king of ghosts, from his prison.”

“The superhero thing?” asked Danny.  

Frostbite chuckled.  “I believe you referred to your tendencies as that a few times in my hearing.  You, and your friends.  But, truly, it would give me a great deal of peace if you let me make sure that you are, indeed, healthy, and that whatever technique they used to remove your memory has not damaged you unduly.”

“You could tell if it did?” asked Danny, suddenly a lot less reluctant.  

Frostbite nodded, gravely.  

“Okay,” said Danny.  “But I’m not sure if I can really handle it if the way there is as cold as the way here.”

“I will carry you,” said Frostbite.  “The medical bay itself is heated, to accommodate your human half, as are many of the rooms.”

Danny sighed in relief.  This would have been a very short visit if they hadn’t been.  This room was fine, but he didn’t like the idea of being confined to such a small space indefinitely.  

“And perhaps we could take one of these,” said Frostbite, pulling a thick, fluffy-looking fur from one of the walls.  “Just to add another layer between you and the cold.”

“Right,” said Danny, feeling nervous again as he contemplated being bundled up like that.  It was fine.  Clockwork was watching.  Monitoring.  Whatever.  He had the pocketwatch.  

It took a bit of maneuvering for Danny to get into a comfortable position, but once he did, Frostbite wasted no time pushing aside the thick, curtain-like door of the room and walking back out into the cold.  Danny drew in on himself, shivering, despite their precautions.  

(In a slightly less frigid environment, being held in Frostbite’s arms would have been downright cozy.  He made a note to experiment later.  If Frostbite was trustworthy enough for cuddles.)

“S-so,” said Danny, trying to take his mind off the cold.  “Wh-what did I do with Pariah D-Dark?”  Vlad had told him a version of the story, but he doubted it was complete, especially given that he’d failed to mention anything about who released Pariah Dark in the first place.  

“You rallied the ghosts of the Wastes,” said Frostbite.  “a veritable and largely lawless rabble.  You convinced them to fight, even convincing Walker and Dorathea of Mattingly to lend their power.  You led them against Pariah Dark’s thrall armies, and stormed his keep using a suit of armor that sapped your life even as it increased your power.  You fought the mad king one-on-one, and forced him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, whereupon Plasmius was able to lock him in again.  You very nearly died, you very nearly ended, and were willing to do so, in order to stop Pariah Dark.”

“H-huh,” said Danny.  He couldn’t really imagine doing something like that.  But it did more or less line up with what Vlad said… except that in Vlad’s story, Danny’s role had been less… prominent.  

They reached the medical bay, a large cave full of mysterious machinery, shortly after that, and Danny was again happy to find himself in relative warmth.  Frostbite started explaining the medical exams he wanted to carry out, and Danny listened half-heartedly.  

“Hey,” he said, during a lull between explanations.  “Do you think you could fix my amnesia?”

“It is not impossible,” said Frostbite, slowly, turning away from the thing he’d been fiddling with .  “But it would depend heavily on what method they used to give you that amnesia in the first place.  For example, Lethean waters are very effective and entirely irreversible.  On the other hand, they could have removed and stored your memories via a memory jar, in which case you would need to have that jar to recover your memories.  Alternatively, there are several ways by which your memories could be bound in place, or obscured.  However… attempting to restore your memories would be a blatant violation of the rules of this trial.”

“But would you try?”

“If you asked me to, Great One.”

Danny frowned and looked away.  “Why are you doing this?”

“Giving you a medical checkup?” asked Frostbite.  “Because I am concerned for your health.”

Danny waved that answer away, and forced himself to look back at Frostbite.  “No, I mean, why are you participating in this trial?  Why do you want custody of me?  I mean, if you’re just my doctor, that’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”

Frostbite huffed.  “I do like to think of myself as more than ‘just’ your doctor.  I mentored you extensively after your ice powers developed.  I daresay you are one of my more successful students, at that, even if your, ah… first attempts at control were rough.”

“You know what I mean.  You call me ‘Great One,’ and that’s flattering and all, but it isn’t really a parental kind of thing, is it?”

“I suppose not,” said Frostbite.  “It would bring me nothing but joy if you did choose me, Great One, and I would do my utmost to live up to the task and dedicate myself to parenting you, but I do have something of an ulterior motive in joining this trial.”

“What is it?” asked Danny.  

“I came to warn you.”  Frostbite squared his shoulders.  “I never met your birth parents, only your sisters, but from your words and theirs…  I believe they harmed you, Great One.  Intentionally and repeatedly.  And I believe that it is their actions that necessitated this custody trial.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Danny.  “Why?  Why do you think that?”

“First,” said Frostbite, “you mentioned to me on several occasions that your parents were ghost hunters.”

“Oh.  Ow,” said Danny.  

“Secondly, a few times - only a few, but they stand out sharply in my memory -  you visited me for help after being affected by one of your parents’ weapons.  I have the records of those visits here.  You brushed aside my concerns regarding your parents then, saying that they did not know you would be harmed, or that the incidents were mere accidents.”

That… certainly sounded bad.  

“Thirdly, and finally, the existence of this custody trial in and of itself.  These are beyond uncommon, even considering the Observants’ interest in you.”  Frostbite’s snout wrinkled.  Speaking of which, you should be wary of them as well.”

“Already ahead of you on that one,” said Danny, thoughts racing.  “But I thought the reason for the custody hearing was that they were dead.”

Frostbite’s eyes widened slightly.  “Who told you that?  I know that at least one of them is participating.”

“What?” said Danny.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes.  My spy wasn’t able to be more specific than that, curse the Observants, but I have full confidence in them as a member of my tribe.”

“Do you know their names?  What they’re called, what they look like?” asked Danny.  

Frostbite shook his head.  “As I said, I never met them.”

“Maybe we can work it out by elimination, though,” said Danny.  “I could tell you the names of the other people on my list of candidates–”

Frostbite’s head-shaking became more frantic.  “Goodness, no.  I’m limited in how specific I can be about the…”  He sighed.  “Competition.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “But you just came to warn me?  That’s all?”

“And to give you some measure of safety.  I knew your parents were participating, I knew Plasmius would not miss the chance, and I haven’t a clue about who else might be involved.  I wanted you to have at least one safe option.”

That was nice and all, but Danny couldn’t help but feel a little put out.  He didn’t want to be an obligation that someone was picking up because they felt like they had to.  

He was probably just being ungrateful, though.  

“Great One?” asked Frostbite.  

“Hm?”

“I asked if you would like me to try to get your memories back.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  He thought about it for a while.  “No.  I don’t want you to get in trouble.  But maybe… could you find out what’s going on with my core?  And help me remember how to use those ice powers you mentioned?”

“Of course, Great One!  It would be my pleasure.”

[butwhatifidothis]

Talking from a fe3h discourse perspective I get hating Rhea, as a Rhea lover. To a lesser extent I GUESS I get Seteth. But Flayn??????? She's just vibing and eating fish??? She has NOTHING to do with Rhea's decisions? Like at that point you're (not you op, general you) just looking for issues. To be clear if you hate her because of her personality or whatever sure, to each their own. But hating her because "church bad" feels really stupid to me. That's like a rhea/church fan hating the black eagles on principal because they're part of edelgard's house or because they don't hate edelgard.

When you realize they ascribe to this kind of mentality

it starts to make a lot more sense. Yeah, if two members of a race being bad if enough for you to ascribe malice and evil to every single member of said race, it's pretty easy to also say that the very blood of that race is evil and having it course through your veins makes you evil.

Which they've been saying for a while now!

Yes, you are in fact seeing a ~year-and-a-half old screenshot of them saying the exact same racist garbage they're saying now.

Also, just. This fucker keeps repeating this stupid fucking point about Nemesis and frankly it pisses me off.

Two years. From as early as two days ago (as of July 11th 2024) to as far back as two fucking years, they've been repeating "Nemesis couldn't have been THAT BAD you guys, because the people he's been tyrannically ruling over for over a century and who didn't know the full extent of his actions which include the genocide he committed believed in the lie about him being a liberator! A supposed liberator of a group of people these oppressed ignorant civilians would have had literally no contact with whatsoever given Nemesis has been ruling for over a century! Meaning any human alive during the actual reign of the Nabateans would have been fucking dead by the time Nemesis was killed, meaning any alive during Nemesis' reign had no way of knowing how that rule actually was! This lie was so imprinted into the people's conscious that Rhea couldn't erase it, so it has to be true and not a lie anymore!"

Literally saying that Nemesis was right to do what he did because he said he was and the people who had no choice but to believe him believed he was. Like I said, they are so fucking desperate to defend this genocider and to degrade the Nabateans as an entire race to be biologically inclined towards evil, and have been desperate to do this for years.

Here are a couple more choice words Shandale has said!

"He didn't genocide them because he WANTED to, he did it because he HAD to! If he didn't, anyone he brought with him to genocide the Nabateans would have been killed!"

Oh, but silly me! What I am talking about?

It wasn't a genocide! It was getting rid of oppressor and conquerors! Those oppressors and conquerors, you know, just so happening to be the entirety of the Nabatean race.

Which, hm! Guess what nonnie!

Explicitly includes Flayn! Someone who literally never did anything to anyone! Oh, except be willing to kill followers... who are a direct threat to others and are desecrating her mother's grave. Oh, but who cares about silly little nitpicks like that, she's willing to kill her followers!! ...Oh wait, there's only reference to Cichol in that paralogue? Cethleann isn't even mentioned once anywhere in the paralogue? Like literally anywhere? Bah! Who cares! Flayn is evil, just like all the other Nabateans! Let's """"""""joke"""""""" about killing her over and over and over and over and over again!

Teehee isn't it so funny guys! They're killing Flayn, haha, soooo funny! Ignore how they think Flayn's race in its entirety needs to be killed and how they lie about what Flayn's done to paint her as evil, they're just jokingly killing Flayn and joking about how fun they find the idea of killing this member of a race they clearly hate over and over keekeekee!!! This race isn't real guys you're not allowed to find this disturbing plus they're just joking anyway hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!

(there's actually more of these "jokes". Like way more of them. Just, lettin' everybody know)

And, oh, wow!

This includes Indech and Macuil! Nabateans who cut off all contact with humanity after they had helped kill the genocider of their race. Macuil isn't even in Fodlan anymore, he's in the middle of a Sreng desert, but, nope! They helped kill Nemesis, meaning they are also completely evil :)

Funny how every single Nabatean who stood up against the human who killed them all is deemed irrevocably evil no matter what, but the human Agarthans are just poor little victims who deserved more nuance and sympathy even after they literally murder children. But we're the mean ones for pointing all of this out as bad tho