#i like about C mal is her hair

[keravnous]

wanna go where the girls are young and dumb? ; christoph waltz x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

being c. waltz's sugarbaby - the playlist

Your mother dragged you along to southern France for the summertime. Thus, you are forced to spend your spring break with your stepdad.

warnings: stepdad!christoph, lowkey sugardaddy!christoph, age gap (the reader is in her early 20s, christoph is in his 50s), finally putting my native language to good use, daddy kink, light choking, power play, riding/reverse cowgirl, fingering, pet names, name calling, unprotected sex, slight cumplay and breeding, multiple orgasms, viagra (unrealistic effects), controlling/possessive!christoph, bratty!reader, christoph's a little dark in this so heed the warning, he really just wants to wreck you he's been waiting long enough

translations: Liebes - love; Na, sieh mal einer an wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt - Well, someone's seen fit to grace us with their presence; Oh, das machen wir aber nicht - Oh, we won't do that, won't we

word count: 11,4k

choosing a gif for this was really just playing what's my favourite waltz era

the title is from the song young & dumb by cigarettes after sex

thank you v for not giving up on me <3

"Na, sieh mal einer an, wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt. Where have you been?", your stepdad's voice is hard enough to cut steel and you freeze dead in your tracks, white heels dangling from your hand. Well, fuck - so much for sneaking back in quietly.

The huge wooden doors to the living room are opened - and you can see Christoph sitting on the sofa facing the lobby, in the shadows of the room, dimly lit by candles. Your feet are pressing against the polished marble, warm skin on cool stone. It's still hot outside, only a small breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees and rolling in through the opened windows, toying gently with the hem of your nearly see-through, white linen dress.

This place could easily be heaven on earth - the old, 18th century countryside bastide with its lush citrus and olive trees, near a cliff at the water and a sleepy, small town nearby - weren't it for the devil himself.

Your vision zeroes in on him - your mother's boyfriend and soon to be husband - and you try your best to glare into the dim abyss of the barely lit living room.

"Why do you care?", you spit, ready to storm upstairs. You just want some peaceful silence, not whatever the fuck he's on about.

And, like he can sense what you are about to do, like he sees the way your calf-muscles twitch, he says softly: "Don't you dare moving an inch, Liebes." His velvety voice drips with acid honey; a threat in candy-wrappers. A frost descends with his voice, making you shiver.

"I am not -"

"Where have you been?", Christoph asks again, voice menacingly calm. He sounds like he knows.

Like he knows, that you have been out to get laid.

You had met a pretty, young man and shared a few flirtatious looks with him at the farmer's market just yesterday. Your French was sufficient to get the necessities across and thus, he was quick to grasp that you wanted to fuck. Sneaking out of the house around 10 you rode your bike to his place, only to find out that what he had to offer in looks - long, dark, and curly hair and eyes like the ocean - he lacked in experience. He had been clumsy and after he tried to finger you for what seemed to be an eternity of aimless thrusting and unpassionate rubbing, you had told him to fuck off and drove back home. You just want to go upstairs, get yourself off, shower and go to sleep.

But you can't just say that, can you? And thus, you blink, unnerved, hissing: "You are not my fucking father."

You wish you could see his face, see his reaction, but it is hidden by flickering shadows. You decide that tonight's not the night to be the pawn in one of his strange games. Thus, you suck in a deep breath, before eventually sighing: "I am going upstairs. Good night."

"Ah ah ah", he scolds and you can see him taking a drag of his cigarette, the tip of it gleaming before he is exhaling smoke that curls into the air, the thick mist illuminated by the flickering glow of the candles, "Is that a way to speak to the man who keeps you in college?"

"I am not having this conversation right now."

"But I will", he raises his eyebrows and you feel glued to the spot, helpless.

Something prevents you from just leaving. You do not know what it is, but you recall a few encounters in which he had a similar effect on you - where he intimidated you into submission. Another shiver crawls up your spine at the thought.

"Step inside here for a moment, please", and as you don't move, his voice turns cold - like you are in real fucking trouble, "I won't be asking you again."

Making a great show out of your reluctant-ness, you groan, rolling your eyes, before you unwillingly drop your shoes onto the marble. Entering the living room, you sigh audibly, throwing your head back a little in exasperation, coming to a halt only a few steps into the room.

Christoph seems bored by your behaviour, deliberately stomps his cigarette out in the antique ashtray before crossing his arms. He's wearing linen, too - in a fruitless attempt to combat the heat - the first few buttons of his shirt opened. You can see the greying chest hair peeking through from where you are standing, dusted on his skin like silver threads.

You are annoyed - annoyed by the pretty young Frenchman who turned out to be an absolute disastrous disappointment, annoyed by being stuck here in the middle of nowhere, annoyed by the heat, annoyed by Christoph looking at you the way he does, annoyed by the way his strict gaze has your stomach tingling.

Annoyed by how pretty he looks in the golden candle light.

The thought hits you like a chair to the head and you sway a little, hands gripping the edges of the armchair in front of you. You swallow, trying to fight the thought. The light toys with his features, has his eyes gleaming and the grey hair on his temples looking like fluid silver.

You can feel his gaze roaming your body, burning and heavy, as his eyes wander up and down - taking in both, your curves, and your underwear visible through the white linen.

"Come closer."

You do not want to. You want to hide behind the chair, safe from the confusing mind games he likes to play.

But you don't. Instead, like a puppet on his strings, you take two steps forward and into the room, standing there uselessly. Disarmed, your only weapon left is your tongue.

"What the fuck do you want?", it comes out rude, brash. Christoph chuckles, unimpressed. For a second, you two just stare each other - a silent battle of authority and obstreperousness.

"Closer", is all he says, with the steadiness of a victory.

"I don't have time for this", your voice breaks, irritated and a little unsteady around the edges. Christoph looks at you, unfazed but something small changes. It's in his eyes, something that grows stern and unrelenting. If your little display of brattiness a few minutes earlier was a joke to him, your behaviour now was an insult.

And thus, a little intimidated by him, you comply, carefully taking a few steps forward until only a couple long strides part the two of you.

It does not seem to satisfy him.

"Closer."

You furrow your brows and close the gap, mere inches between your and his knee. He looks up at you, eyes cold.

"That's it. Sit", you blink dumbly as Christoph pats his thigh, his tone light in an odd, uncanny contrast to the way he looks at you.

Alright, no. Absolutely not.

You aren't sure if he's joking. It must be a sick joke. Maybe he finds it funny: his adult stepdaughter sitting on his lap. You do not move.

You are certain, he will break any second - for Christ's sake, he's an actor - he's just joking. He will break. His lips will curl up any second now --

Looking at his serious face, stern gaze boring deep deep into your soul, you grow certain that he is indeed serious. Very serious.

You gulp. "I am not doing this. This is so fucking inappropriate."

"And I am not discussing this. Sit."

God knows, Christoph isn't - never was - very patient. And you can feel it, too; he oozes with it, the way his gaze grows cold as ice and you nearly stumble over your own feet as your body gives in. He is fucking intimidating, especially when the façade of the European gentleman crumbles, drops, like it does right now - leaves you wondering, what he is capable of. And you do not want to find out. Thus, your brain barely has enough time to fight it or to reason with you, you step closer and sink down on his lap. You legs dangle over his left knee while you avoid his gaze.

Let's get this fucking over with then.

"There you go, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"N-no", you shake your head, feeling the heat of his body radiating through both of your linen clothes. It should feel odd, and maybe it does just a little, sitting on your fucking stepfather's lap like this, but -- it also doesn't feel that bad. It is strangely comforting, with his rich, warm scent now wrapping you in. You have always liked his perfume - a subtle wooden scent, of vetiver and a subtle splash of mint. Sublime, sophisticated.

One of his slender, large hands wraps around your hips, holds you in place, the other gently takes your hand, fingers brushing over yours.

"I -- where's my mother?", you hold onto it like a lifeline.

"Asleep." And there it goes - the lifeline slips out of your hands and you drown in the dark, deep sea that is his presence, all light out of reach as you sink deeper, nothing else remaining but him. Still, you can't help but notice that his voice sounds cold, distant, and you wonder why.

You recall something your mother had told you just days before the flight to southern France. Her voice echoes in your skull as you remember sitting in her spacious living room, picking out a few dresses for her to wear on vacation. "He's not even touching me anymore, honey, I don't know -" - "Ew, Mom! I don't wanna know, my god!"

You wonder, if their little paradise is already crumbling, turning ugly around the edges, and a part of you wishes for it to be true. You want him gone. But there's also a small voice in the back of your head that panics at the thought. You like your life like this - you can't deny the fact that he keeps you afloat financially, that whatever you want or need - you don't even have to ask for it, he just buys it. Like it's nothing. It's comfortable and easy and you would most likely miss it.

No - you are certain you would. Life's never been that easy for you.

It's fucked up, really. You still remember meeting him, and in the beginning, you got along just fine. Blimey, even.

Getting to know him started off well. Your mother had met him at the theatre while he had been working there and despite her being shy around him, he quickly convinced her to Just try it. The first time you had met Christoph in person was at a dinner at your mother's place during Christmas break and he had been so charming, so soft and well-spoken that he had made you feel right at ease, even though you were sitting across someone so familiar with the limelight and the high society of Hollywood.

It had been nice. You found out that he was recently divorced, with children around your age. You told him about college and your future goals. It had been homely and down to earth, just nice.

And thus, you didn't think much of it as last year's spring break rolled around, returning to your childhood and now their part time-shared Los Angeles home, as he was knocking on the door of your old teenage bedroom. "It's just a little something I got you - a special gift for my new stepdaughter, perhaps? The sale's lady said it would be - quite fitting - for a young woman your age." And Christoph had been so so charming that you didn't think much of it, as you unwrapped the large box.

Inside had been a set of lingerie, made of fine, white lace with frills. The soft fabric had felt and looked expensive and you had gasped - the set so pretty that for a short while, you had forgotten how inappropriate it was for him to gift you such things.

As you finally, after returning to your dorm and showing the gift to your roommate ("Girl, that's just creepy."), came to realize just how wrong it was, a sleek beige box awaited you on your bed one night in the dorm as you returned from your classes. Inside had been a Chanel dress, all pale-pink, flowers and bows ("Shit, that one's kind of pretty").

Christoph had kept sending you gifts: jewellery, dresses, lingerie. You dutifully called every single time and thanked him and he usually only chuckled, stating that it was nothing. You know you should have told your mother. It felt off and you knew that it was, too.

But you just didn't.

Unbeknownst to you, he was testing the waters. Every time you'd see him from then on, he would put you through agonizingly long inquiries about what you did on campus, who you were seeing. He would make it painfully obvious that he was checking your credit card billings and whenever there was something out of the ordinary, he would bring it up casually in the following conversation.

You remember going out with some guy from your lecture, meeting at a place you had never been at before. The date had gone horrible and to not lead him on, you had paid for yourself - even though he insisted otherwise. Christoph had enjoyed seeing you squirm, bathed in your shame and uneasiness, as he asked you if the drinks were as horrible as he believed them to be.

That's when the tables kind of turned. You figured that he was just a rich and controlling asshole that had barged into your life, had belittled you and had ruined your fucking peace. Maybe he was an award-winning actor but to you, that didn't matter.

You were fucking glad, that he kept the relationship to you mother out of the public eye. You didn't even want to imagine the media attention. You didn't even want to imagine what he had to say about you - "My stepdaughter? Oh, she's just whoring about, that unthankful little girl, don't you worry about her."

His mellow voice rips you out of your memory. "So, what are we doing about you breaking my rules tonight?"

You nearly burst out a laugh - you are in your twenties; you are allowed to do whatever the fuck you want. His made up, bullshit rules do not apply to you - quite frankly, up until now, they did not even fucking exist to you. He never told you there were any in the first place.

Not that you would have cared, anyways.

"You have no authority over me", you say, but doesn't come out half as cool as you wanted it to. Christoph's lips curls into a smile, gaze wandering over your face. His fingers brush over yours and then he leans in, voice low:

"We both know, that is not what this is about."

Something in your stomach tingles and you want to rip it out with both hands. "What-", you whisper, seriously confused.

"I have seen what little - well, shall we call them movies, darling? - you watch when you're alone", he purrs and then smiles, all dimples and small lines around his eyes, flashes his white teeth at you. A shiver runs down your spine.

You blink dumbly. What? Jesus Christ, please no - oh no. Oh shit.

Mortification burns high on your cheeks; your skin grows warm and red with it. You immediately know what he's talking about and his invasion of your privacy has your head swimming.

"You checked my fucking browser history?", you blurt out.

"Checked", he huffs, seemingly amused, "If you leave your phone laying around unlocked--" Christoph shrugs, gestures helplessly as if he's trying to justify eating ownerless chocolates.

You can feel your gut sinking. "Y-you--", you can't help but wonder how much he's seen, what exactly he's seen. You can't help your mind from wandering there - wandering to what he thought, if he liked what he saw. Stop it, fucking stop it.

"I--?", Christoph smiles smugly, raising an eyebrow.

You wonder if he saw the countless videos of older men fucking younger women, making them beg and cry, teaching them manners. You remember one porn you have watched plenty of times - the one of a greying man tossing a young woman around, ripping her underwear apart, slapping her face and tits and railing her until she was crying, gripping her hair and spitting in her face.

You remember how deep you had plunged your fingers into your tight cunt, squeezing around them at the thought of an eloquent and handsome older man railing you until you couldn't walk, having his way with you for his pleasure, and his alone. Every single time you watched that one porn you came hard, harder than the time before, draining your sheets with your squirt until it ran down your legs. As fucked up as it is, just the memory of it has your pussy aching right in this moment, wetness pooling between your legs.

Shame crawls up your spine at the thought that he knows - that he has seen the frequency of it popping up in your browsing history. Maybe he had even clicked on it, watched it a little, indulged in your secret little fantasy. The thought has your cheeks burning red with humiliation, but there's also something else, something primal clawing at your insides, making your lower stomach tingle.

"This is none of your business", your voice is small and quiet, your eyes avoiding his drilling gaze.

"Oh, but what if it is?", Christoph's eyes gleam mischievously.

"Excuse me?", you blurt out, heart racing in your chest.

"Mh well", he weighs his head from one side to the other a little, as if he's carefully considering a thought, "You know, if you wanted what you saw in those little movies you could've just asked me?"

He says it so nonchalantly, as if he's talking about buying some milk. You blink, completely speechless.

"Do you want to know why? Why you could've just asked me?", and you nod, head swimming a little, "Because I do not want some dirt-poor, hicktown-boy touching what is mine."

Your breath hitches, and he shrugs. "There's no need for you to compensate your fantasies elsewhere any longer, Liebes, hm?", his voice is soft, dark and deep, like soft silk wrapping you in, "I can give you exactly what you crave."

It feels like your brain has just blown a fuse, blinking at him dumbly. His lips tilt up, one of his hands brushing over your knee. "You just have to say it, darling. Just say the word", and you feel like drowning in the grey sky of his eyes, loins tingling, "I can make you feel good, better than the young men can."

You swallow, excitement bubbling up in your stomach, hitching your breath. It's not like you haven't thought about it, about him - the memory buried deep, deep in the darkest corner of your brain.

You should say no. This is not okay, it will hurt your mother. It's not right. It is inappropriate, at best.

But you are also so fucking horny still, your whole body aching for a touch and the way he looks at you - your fucking stepdad who's a full-blown, silvery 30 years older than you - has tingles spreading through your limbs, fire spreading in your loins. Fuck it.

"Y-yes", you whisper instead of doing the right thing - the spirit willing but the flesh weak -,"Yes, please."

And then, he leans in.

Christoph's kiss is soft and firm, and goosebumps roll over your skin at the thought that it doesn't feel foreign or odd, like if it isn't the first time, he kissed you. It feels a lot like coming home, returning to a familiar touch - it's the way he grabs your waist, mostly, like he just knows how to touch you.

His hand brushes over the small of your back, tips gently stroking your warm skin through your dress, before snaking around your waist and pulling you closer - just as his tongue brushes over your lower lip. The other crawls up your leg, grabs the flesh of your thigh, gropes you and feels you up.

You part your lips obediently, letting Christoph's tongue slip past, brushing over yours. He tastes like cigarettes and liquor and you inhale deeply through your nose - his scent wafting around you, rich, and deep, and sophisticated.

One of your hands comes up, cups his cheek, and pulls him closer. You have never been kissed like this before, never with so much verve, so much lust. He kisses like only a man his age does, like he has tasted a hundred women, but decided you tasted best.

The hand on your leg sneaks higher, and you spread your legs needily, allowing it to slip past and between your thighs. Christoph wastes no time, his index-finger pressing against your pussy, gently rubbing it along your panty-clad folds. You are wet already; the fabric damp and you can feel your loins going up in flames as he rubs you through the thin lace.

Christoph eventually breaks the kiss, has you panting against his mouth, his lips curl up in a smug smile. His fingers dance of your cunt, gently circling your clit through your lace string. "Those boys never treat you right, do they?", he is right, he always is, has you gasping quietly, rocking your hips against his digits, "Only I get to touch you, from now on. Do you understand?"

And you nod, mind already a little hazy, nothing more important than the pulling in your stomach and the wetness between your legs. "Yes", you sigh, leaning into his touch.

"Yes --? You will address me properly", his other hand grabs your chin, "That's certainly not hard to do, now, is it?"

You swallow, your cheeks turning red once more as he digs deep into your fantasies. "Yes, Daddy", you say quietly, the word heavy on your tongue, fresh arousal flooding your cunt.

Christoph hums, visibly satisfied, thumb caressing your jaw and a soft gaze wandering over your face, takes you in, before it grows cold again, as he pulls his hands away.

"Let Daddy see what's his, then", and you follow his stern command.

Hooking your legs over his thighs you practically present yourself to him, the soft velvet cushions pressing against your calves as your back sinks against his chest - the soft material of your dress pooling between your spread legs. Christoph's hands roam over your body - from your hips up up up, brush over your stomach and then cup your tits through your flowy linen dress. His grip is firm and he squeezes them a little, making them spill out of your bra.

You gasp, looking down at his hands and watching the way they fondle your tits, pulling the hem of your dress down and hooks the fabric underneath your breasts. Being so lewdly exposed to him, reduced to being a pretty object to admire and to fondle with, has your head swimming, sparks shooting down your thighs.

"I'll show you off, hm, my pretty little girl? What do you think?", he whispers, one of his slender, large hands cupping your left tit and twisting your nipple between his fingers, "Taking you with me everywhere, let everyone see just how beautiful you are." You gasp, nodding frantically at the thought of being his pretty and expensive little arm-candy - all dolled up and looking pretty for him on the red carpet, adorned in shining jewellery and flowing dresses.

"Let's take this off, shall we?", Christoph tugs at the linen dress and helps you out of it, tosses it to the ground carelessly. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as he looks over your shoulder, feel heat creeping up your cheeks as you suddenly realize that you wearing one of the lingerie sets, he had gifted you a couple of weeks ago.

A low growl leaves his throat, has the hairs on your arms standing up. "Have you been wearing this for him?", he sing-songs catatonically, his index finger hooks underneath the strap of your string, lets it snap back against your skin.

You have, but it makes you feel stupid now. Childish. Like you have done something laughable. Shame bubbles in your stomach and you feel the urgent need to explain yourself to him: "Y-yes, but--"

"Sh, be quiet", Christoph says softly, his hands casually making quick work of your bra, unclasping it, pulling the strings down your arms, and tossing it into the darkness of the room, "It's fine. You didn't know any better, did you, Liebes?"

"N-no, I didn't", you squeal, the cool air brushing over your hardened nipples, making you shiver while his hands run down your body.

"And do you think, it's fair that he gets to see you all dolled-up like this? In something I have bought you?"

Your teeth catch your lower lip as you shake your head. "Right", his thumb brushes over the strap of your lace string, "And why is that?"

You swallow. You know what Christoph wants to hear and you might just be very willing to give it to him. "Because I belong to you", you say quietly, your stomach fluttering after the words left your mouth.

"That's right", his thumb toys with the lace trimming of the string, "You always have, haven't you?"

You blink. "Huh?"

"Don't be stupid, now."

"I -- I don't-", and he tsks at your aimless stuttering.

"My pretty little airhead", Christoph coos, "Why do you think I bagged your mother?", and suddenly - it clicks. Like a heavy lock falling shut.

You remember the first day of rehearsal at the theatre. It had been his first day there and you had driven your mother, who was responsible for the stage designs, to work since she still had a broken thumb from working on the furniture and was pumped up on painkillers. Saying your goodbyes, you had been seeing him standing a few feet away, smiling at the two of you. You had paid it no mind - especially later, since he ended up going out with your mother. But he hadn't been smiling over the situation, he had been smiling at you. You. Not your mom.

The realization hits you like a freight train, leaves you breathless. "I always get what I want."

"Oh", you make dumbly, mouth agape a little, while his fingers dance over your panty-clad pussy.

"You are just a dumb little baby, aren't you?", for a split second his hand leaves you, only to come down rather hard, as he gives your cunt a firm slap, "I think, I might have to fuck some sense into you."

You squeal, a sharp gasp escaping your lips but you can't help it, as you feel fresh wetness pooling between your legs, rocking your hips against the palm of his hand. "Yeah, I thought so", he sounds rather pleased, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, "Nothing more on your dumb little brain than getting off, hm?"

"Y-yes", you croak, flinching as he strikes your aching cunt another time, moaning sweetly, "Daddy - fuck - p-please!"

"I know just how you feel", his other hand grabs your tit roughly, gropes you, pinching your nipple, "You made Daddy jack off to you so often, princess. Can't wait to see if you're really that tight."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls your string to the side and you sigh, as your plush and hot skin gets exposed to the cool air.

One of his fingers immediately brushes over your slick folds, and you can hear him hum, a low sound that ignites your lust, has you gasping softly.

"Mh, so wet already, aren't you?", you are, you can hear it. You can hear your juices squelching as his finger runs up and down your cunt, circling your hole and giving your clit the slightest bit of stimulation. Your whole body tingles with it, and you look down, watch him exploring your wet pussy. And maybe, just maybe, you have thought about this, too - with your vibrator pressed snugly against your clit and fingers plunged deep in your cunt - maybe, the thought of him had been flashing through your mind, made you cum at least once.

Christoph's lips brush over your neck, goosebumps spreading over your skin, his free hand wrapping around one of yours. "C'mere, let me show you how wet you are for your Daddy, princess."

And you moan quietly, as he guides your hand between your legs, runs your fingers through your folds. You are incredibly wet, wetter than you have ever been and you gasp at the sensation as his hand guides your fingers through your slick. It's thick and watery and warm and your mouth falls agape at just how much there is of it. It drips down your cojoined fingers, that glide along your folds easily, runs over the palm of Christoph's hand and over his wrist.

"I have never seen a cunt wetter than yours", he whispers and you mewl, gaze dropping down between your legs, watching him guiding your fingers over your pussy. The grip on your fingers is firm and his movements come to a halt, as your digits brush right over your clit. Your breath audibly hatches and you mewl, the slightest bit of stimulation already having you begging for more.

Christoph grins against your warm skin, teeth brushing over the soft flesh. He knows that you had had sex before - he has seen the messages you sent to your roommate about the boys from class, about the one with the pretty blonde hair - but he can't help but notice how you turn into puddy in his hands, like you have never been touched before. Like a fucking virgin. It makes his blood boil, dick straining against his trousers, wanting to see you come apart under the touch of his hands. He wants to see you go insane on his cock, until there is nothing else left but him - all your flings from college washed from your mind - a clean slate for him to claim, ruin.

"Are you always that needy? I don't even want to think about how poorly he must've touched you", Christoph mumbles against your neck, tongue darting out, licking a wet stripe over your warm skin before moving his fingers along with yours, rubbing slow and wide circles over your clit, "I bet it was downright pathetic."

Your hips buck and you gasp, eyelids fluttering. "Oh god, yes", you breathe, feeling your own wetness beneath your fingertips, and the lust sparking in your loins like a wildfire, "Yes, it was."

The way Christoph touches you is just so so different from what you experienced earlier - his slender fingers move yours skilfully, rubbing your clit like he just knows how you like it, like he's done it a hundred times before. You sink back against him, and he gently removes your hand from your cunt, places it onto your thigh instead - lips brushing and sucking on the back of your neck. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel, darling", he hums, "Let me show you how a real man can make you feel."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls the lace of your string apart, riiips it cleanly in two, lets the fabric fall to the floor, before spreading your legs further. His fingers dance over your cunt, gliding through your slick, before two of them dive back in on your clit. Rubbing wide, slow circles he has you gasping within seconds, watching his digits working you with your mouth agape - your hole clenches around nothing, hips bucking.

"Does that feel good, princess?", he sounds so so smug, like he knows that it does. You can feel your loins catching fire, slowly rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Y-yes, fuck yes", you huff, moaning quietly.

Christoph's finger delves deeper and circles your hole, has it fluttering under his touch, before he carefully pushes it in. You gasp, and he chuckles, feels the way your walls clench around him.

"You're so tight, princess", he pushes his finger in completely, curls it a little and you moan as it brushes over the spot that usually has you seeing stars - before he starts to move it slowly, agonizingly even, rubs your walls and feels you squeezing him.

Christoph can't wait to fuck you, to get his dick wet, feels himself growing even harder in his slacks at the thought. He has been thinking about it for so long, that touching you makes him a little dizzy, and it needs a whole lot of willpower not to throw you off his lap and push you into the cushions, ass up, pounding into you until you're a drooling, crying mess.

He really wants - needs - to take it slow, get a taste of every single second, make it last as long as he possibly can. He will make you beg for it, drunk with it; drunk with the way he is going to fuck you until you see stars, until there is nothing left on your mind but him and his dick pounding into you, his hands on your body. He had already made you dependant on him financially, and now, finally, he will own your body and its countless pleasures, too.

Christoph smiles to himself, all crinkled crow's feet, and white teeth, as you roll your hips against his finger, desperately adding some more friction. He loves giving it to you: pulls his finger out of you, only to push two back in, stretching your hole out a little. You are so fucking tight around his digits; he can feel the ring of muscles clutching and straining against his fingers. "No one's ever fucked you real good, Liebes, I can tell."

He shoves his fingers deeply into your cunt, gives you a short moment to assess to the feeling, before moving them slowly, fucking your slick in and out of you. First, your hips tremble and then you squirt, moaning deeply, wetness splashing against the palm of Christoph's hand. Gasping, you watch his other hand crawling between your legs, his index-finger slowly circling your clit.

Pleasure shoots through your body and you moan, goosebumps spreading over your body, your heartbeat rattling with lust. "Fuck", you gasp, head lolling back onto his shoulder.

With his lips ghosting over your strained neck, Christoph gently speeds up, harvests the desperate whines and gasps falling from your lips as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

You feel like you do not even have to tell him what you want, what you like - it is like he hasn't only dug deep into your browser history, but also your brain - like he just knows which switch to flip, how to touch you and how to rile you up with a deadly precision. It also feels oddly familiar - his touch, his smell, your body pressing against his with lust and a thin layer of sweat - like he has known your body for years, like he had fingered and touched you a hundred times before.

And thus, you do not even have to vocalize it, that you need more, need it harder - he just knows, reads you like an opened book or a fucking road sign. Christoph starts to fuck you quickly, his fingers pushing your cream in and out of you, pussy gushing around his digits. Your hand flies to his wrist, clutches it tightly, as you moan and sigh, desperate of any sort of leverage.

The way he fingers you feels so fucking good and you wish it would never end, but you can already feel your muscles clenching and then his other hand starts to rub your clit hard, two slender fingers circling it quickly and you gasp, mewl.

"D-daddy", you shriek, walls clutching around his fingers rapidly as you feel your orgasm approaching quicker than any time before, "I-- I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead", he sounds amused, and the humiliation that floods you at his tone has your orgasm rolling over you, coming loose around his fingers on his command.

Shudders roll over your body as you cum, pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth while Christoph fucks you through your climax, fingers circling your clit and making you squirt against his digits. You are slowly coming back down to earth, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, before you moan, throwing your head back while you rock down on his long fingers, riding out your orgasm. Your juices squelch around his fingers as he rubs them along your walls, your squirt wet the sofa's cushions beneath. You can feel your slick running down your legs, and you gasp.

"There you go", Christoph coos, lips brushing over your exposed shoulder, his other hand still on your throat, thumb brushing over your jaw, "Doesn't that just feel wonderful, angel?"

You nod, a breathless Yes, Daddy escaping your lips - and you are just so turned on, fire in your loins and fresh wetness pooling between your legs, that you can't help it. You continue to roll your hips onto his fingers despite the last remains of your orgasm still rolling over you, gently and slowly rocking down, meeting the equally gentle thrusts of his fingers. Your cunt squelches as you squirt against the palm of his hand.

Christoph whistles lowly, pulls his fingers out of you - leaving you a whimpering mess - takes a good, long look at them in the dim, golden candle light. They glisten with your juices and he considers shoving them into your mouth for a moment, but the way you roll your hips onto him with your ass rubbing over his bulge, is fucking distracting, has him stalling.

"Oh fuck", you gasp, your head falling back on his shoulder, "Oh god, please, 'stoph, please please -"

"Oho", he chuckles smugly, "Still needy, little girl?"

You are. Your cunt aches, like you haven't just cum and made a mess out of the sofa beneath, but you feel so so empty. You need more. You need -

"N-need your cock, please! Daddy, please--", you roll your hips on his crotch, feeling his hard dick pressing against the soft linen, hot and heavy. He feels big against your wet and aching cunt, leaving stains on his expensive slacks, and you can't fucking wait to feel it inside of you.

Christoph grabs your hips hard, stalling your movement and pressing your slick pussy against his bulge. You can feel his hard cock twitching while you stain and wet the fabric and you moan, needily, while his tongue and lips graze over your shoulder, lapping at the soft skin.

And then, he suddenly buries his teeth in your shoulder - gentle but still hard enough to leave a mark - makes you gasp and sob, before he is licking over the bruised and red skin. Christoph's lips move up up up, over your neck, sucking and kissing. His tongue dances over the shell of your ear, his voice nothing but a deep rumble: "I can't wait to fuck you, darling. Been thinking about it a lot, I just can't get enough of you."

Your breath hitches, and you look over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his unrelenting one. "Please", you say quietly, his grey eyes boring into you, "Do it."

And then Christoph leans in, locks his lips with yours once more, licking into your mouth, while one of his hands wanders down, opens the fly of his pants. He is getting impatient now and you are, too, one of your hands joining his and pulling the hem of his boxers down. He is panting into your mouth, against your lips and your hand wraps around his cock, all hot and hard, gives it a few experimental strokes.

You wonder if he will fuck you like he kisses you; like he is going to swallow you whole, like he is never going to let you go again, with the way his nose digs into your cheek and his hands hold you close while his tongue explores your mouth in between open-mouthed kisses full of panting and groaning, leaving your lips plump and plush. You want him to fuck you like that - until there is nothing left but him.

His dick is bigger than you thought, long and just the right girth and you have trouble closing your hand around it fully. The way you stroke him, despite the angle being a little clumsy with your body in the way, has Christoph groaning into your mouth, licking your tongue, and gripping your waist, his other hand dipping back between your legs.

Your pussy is soaked, and he spreads your slick over the hot, plush skin - so responsive from your previous orgasm, that you gasp and moan against his lips, and he catches your lower lip, gently bites, and nibbles at it. Your hand massages his dick, your thumb occasionally flicking over its tip, smearing the drops of precum pooling beneath your digits. Eventually, Christoph is parting from you, cheeks blushed a little and pupils blown wide, swats your hands away. His voice is deep and dark, nothing but a low and soft whisper, that has the hairs on your body standing up as he addresses you again: "You fucking slut."

And that, that has you moaning. You never thought you'd hear such things from him, but the way his eyes grow dark and his voice rumbles in his chest you are certain, that something primal has kicked in his inner doors and makes itself comfortable. "First, you dress up like a whore for a hicktown-boy and now, all I have to do is to give you a cock and you're gone so quickly you won't even let go of it, eh?"

"It's jus'so big, Daddy, feels so good", you slur, already a little gone, trying to get your hands onto him once more. He tuts at you, shakes his head a little. "You'll get it back, sunshine, don't you worry."

Christoph grabs his dick with one hand - the other arm wraps around your frame and adjusts you in his lap, your naked, shivering body resting against his expensive linen - and presses it against your seeping hot cunt. The feeling alone makes your loins tingle, has you spreading your legs further.

You gasp, needy for him to finally fuck you, finally shove his cock into you. "Please, Daddy--", you whine, rolling your hips against his dick, wetting it with your juices.

"Been teasing me for so long", he sounds unnerved while thinking about it, his cock twitches against your hot cunt, "Did that get you off?"

"N-no", you mewl honestly, because you didn't, you did not know what you were doing to him. You feel guilty, wanting to make it right - to finally be good for him.

"Bet it did", he hums, not listening to you, "I will have to teach you some manners, one day."

Shivers tingle on your arms, run down your body and you nod, the promise of a punishment lingering in the air, your hole clenching around nothing at the mere thought of it. You need him - now. Need him to stuff your cunt, fuck you until you are a drooling mess, not a single thought remaining. "Daddy, please, just-"

"You know, I have kids your age", Christoph is slowly rubbing his cock along your cunt, the tip of it nudging against your clit, making you shiver and whimper. The complete and utter filth that leaves his mouth has you squirming on his lap, his tone - smug and calculating - makes him sound nearly proud that he's bagging someone as young and pretty like you. You can feel some fresh wetness spreading between your folds, warm and sticky, as he rubs his precum through them, eventually presses the thick tip against your waiting hole.

Christoph knows that you usually only let someone fuck you with a condom on, he has seen your contraception laying around in your room but he will make sure that tonight's a little different - he'll claim you, pump you full of his cum and make you remember the way it will mingle with your own juices.

Expecting you to protest as he finally pushes in without one on, he is genuinely surprised as you don't; instead, your hole flutters open, invites him in deeply, accompanied by the sweetest, softest, high-pitched moan he may have ever heard. The second your hot walls close around his dick, squeezing him tightly with your hole stretching around his thick cock, his face comes loose.

You can hear Christoph exhale deeply, a pleased and satisfied sound, his eyes falling shut and face growing soft as he relishes in the feeling of your throbbing, wet cunt. His dick isn't only bigger than you thought, it fucking feels like it, too. The thick head presses snugly against your cervix, while your hole stretches around its base, walls pressed against it, feeling his cock throb.

"Ah, that's it", he sighs quietly, hands gently rubbing your hips.

"'S good?", you slur, already a little out of it but wanting to be good for him, good for your Daddy.

"Better than I have ever dared to dream, darling", one of his hands brushes over your thigh, caresses the warm skin.

You sigh with the praise, hole clenching around the thick base of his cock while it stretches you out. "Y'feel so good, Daddy", you mumble, looking down to where his dick vanishes inside of you, has your cunt spread on it.

"That's my polite little girl", Christoph's hand brushes over your stomach, up up up and cups your right tit, gives it a firm squeeze.

"Why don't you start moving, sunshine? Make sure it will keep feeling good for me, hm?", he suggests, silky voice dripping with honey, and he lets go of a ragged breath as you do. Rolling your hips experimentally once, feeling his cock moving inside of you, and you quiver. It gently prods against your cervix with every moment, making you mewl and gasp.

Starting off slowly, you raise your hips and then move them back down carefully, feeling Christoph's cock stretching you out, rubbing along your walls. His hands brush over your thighs, your waist. "There you go, darling", he croons, lips brushing over your shoulders, "Keep going, make me feel good."

And you really want to - thus, you grow braver, lifting your hips and sinking back down quicker, rolling them on his cock. He groans, throaty and deep, hands digging into your thighs. You start to ride his dick, fucking yourself back onto him quickly, hands darting out to his knees, desperate for any sort of leverage as you lift your hips and sink back down.

Moaning, you throw your head back as your body sacks forward a little, back arched and Christoph gives your exposed ass a firm slap, before his hand snakes around your body, closes in around your throat. "Upright, girl", he scolds, has you gasping and straightening back up immediately. The hand does not vanish, instead, it adds pressure to your delicate neck, pressing your windpipe shut. Your hips stutter and your eyes widen, right before pleasure shoots through your body, hot waves of lust making you squirt against his cock. Your thighs clench, knees darting together. "Keep them open for me, baby girl", he huffs, his free hand darting between your thighs, grabbing your left and forcefully spreading your legs in the process.

Christoph's hand lets go of your throat, now laying gently against your soft skin instead and thus, keeping your upright on his lap, back arched. "Oh", you gasp, so fucking turned on, you might combust on the spot, "Oh, fuck -- Daddy!"

The hand on your thigh gropes you lightly, thumb brushing over your skin gently. You move up and down on his cock, cunt throbbing and walls squeezing him occasionally, while the tip of his dick prods against your cervix. The way Christoph's cock splits you open, rubs along your walls is delicious, has you gasping and whining.

"Mhm, don't you just look pretty, bouncing on your Daddy's cock like that?", the hand around your throat clutches once more and you moan, high pitched and whiny, hips bucking.

The lack of oxygen has your walls clenching around his dick as you rock down on it, hands desperately grabbing the linen of his slacks. The stretch in your back is deliciously painful, the hand on your throat adding to it.

Feeling your orgasm approaching slowly, you speed up a little more, the sounds of your slick skin hitting his cock filling your room, mingling with his groans and your whines. "There you go, sunshine", Christoph's praise is sweet and soft as you speed up a little more, rolling your hips up and down up and down, hands clutching the linen of his slacks, while you fuck yourself back onto his dick. You can feel your heart pounding in your throat, you can taste your arousal on the tip of your tongue, hear your blood singing with it.

With your cunt squeezing him, practically milking his cock as you rock down it, Christoph can't help but wanting more. The hand on your thigh sneaks between your legs, and he feels you shivering in his lap as his index-finger brushes against your clit. Your gasps are sweet and turn into dirty, wanton moans quickly as he starts to circle your clit with it and Jesus fucking Christ - he wishes he could hear it every day, when he wakes up, when he goes to bed, wishes he could just do nothing all day, only play with you, and make you cum over and over and over again. The way you roll your hips and fuck yourself onto his dick becomes more erratic, desperate and a little clumsy and his lips curl up - he just knows you're close.

"That's a good girl", Christoph coos, voice rough and deep, "Cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me."

Adding pressure to your windpipe once more, he presses the hand around your throat down hard. Your hips buck wildly at the sudden lack of oxygen, lust shooting through your veins, while his finger rubs over your clit fast, in rhythm with the thrusts of your hips. You can feel your walls clenching heavily around his dick and then you cum, your orgasm hitting you with such force, that all you can do is gasp loudly. Any sound and thought is wiped from your body as your cunt squeezes his cock, pussy clenching and legs trembling, hips stuttering as you squirt and squirt, your cream gushing against his dick.

Christoph continues to fuck you through it, moaning quietly while you milk his cock, one arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, the other slooowly letting go of your throat. You suck in desperate breaths, your senses slowly returning and you moan, high-pitched and sweetly, as you feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

"Yeah, just like that, sunshine", he groans, while he fucks you through your orgasm, cock twitching inside of you and shooting hot ropes of cum into your hole, painting your walls white, "Such a good girl, taking it all."

Humming with his praise, you spread your legs wide over his lap, letting his dick in a little deeper, welcoming his cum home. His free hand roams your inner thigh, gropes you gently, while he huffs and groans into your ear - the low sound making you shiver. You relish in the feeling of his warm body beneath you, feeling pumped full by his cum and his hands all over you, while your body grows a little sore, your pussy becoming plush and plump.

His dick is still buried inside of you, hard and hot and heavy. You feel so so full, with his cock preventing his cum from leaking out, only a few drops run out of your hole lazily, drip down his balls and onto the sofa. His cock doesn't seem to go noticeably flaccid, having you gasp and moan with the sensation, relishing in the feeling of him filling you up to the brim. You want to ask why he's still hard, but the question becomes obsolete as your gaze flickers to the coffee table. There's a blister of pills there, one cavity empty. The pills are blue.

Christoph's thumb rubs along your chin, catches on your lower lip. "Surprised, angel?", and you nod, only a dumb Uh-huh leaving your throat and he snickers at the sound, pushes his thumb into your mouth. Immediately, like you are fucking programmed to, you start sucking on it, pussy clenching around his hardening cock.

"Oh, my pretty baby, fucked your brains out already? And I am not even done yet", he sounds genuinely amused while his other hand brushes over your inner thigh and your skin and the nerves below are so so responsive to his touch, has you squirming in his lap and on his cock, mewling. It makes him groan, a low sound, vibrating deep in his throat.

"I have been waiting so long for this", he husks, "I didn't want for it to end too quickly, hm?"

You can feel him growing back to full size inside of you, within mere minutes. It feels nice, nice being so full and you are so far gone in that thickly sweet daze that you don't even think once, as you roll your hips lazily - once, twice - while his hands roam over your body, your lower belly, your waist, groping your tits.

Christoph touches you with a righteousness, like you belong to him, like he owns you. Like there's no one else but you.

But you know that's not true. You know that upstairs your mother is fast asleep, and that on her nightstand lays an expensive engagement ring with a huge-ass diamond. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, you'd care and you'd wonder if this is a one-time thing.

As if he can read your thoughts, he says: "Don't you worry your pretty little head, princess. I won't marry her anymore - it's only you darling, always been."

And you sigh, his sweet talk wrapping you in as he pushes his hips upwards once, buries himself deep into your cunt, hits your cervix. You look over your shoulder, and your gazes meet.

One of his hands comes up, rests on your cheek while he starts to fuck you slowly, softly pants with the way his dick slips in and out of you. "Oh, my sweet baby", Christoph coos while you are hissing quietly as his cock brushes over your overstimulated walls, spreads your tight and aching hole, your hand clutching his wrist.

"Daddy, i-it's too much", you mewl and he pouts at you playfully, shakes his head.

"No, it isn't, is it? You can take it", his thumb caresses your cheek, gives you a sweet peck on the lips, "Be a good girl and take it. You can give me one more."

But you physically can't, and neither does your pussy, walls tightening around him, pushing against his hard dick. "Oh, das machen wir aber nicht, hm?", Christoph scolds, his other hand diving back between your spread legs, two fingers gently circling your clit. You hum, body immediately relaxing, and within a few moments the dull pain of him assaulting your used hole vanishes in thin air, sharp gasps escaping your parted lips, your juices running down your cunt.

"There we are. I knew you could take it", his grin is nothing but devilish, peppers your cheek with soft kisses, "I'm so proud of you, sunshine, hm? Taking it so much better than your mom. I knew you'd be the one."

Stretching your already used cunt further, he nestles back in fully, sighs deeply. "Like you were made for me, angel."

"Yes", you sigh sweetly, because you sure feel like it. Gently, careful even, Christoph continues to circle your clit, pinching and rubbing it. Your body slowly, slowly sinks away from you, growing light and all that is left is the feeling of his hands touching you, his cock buried deep inside of you. Every nerve-ending tingles with it, your brain only focussed on him and the way he feels, the way he smells, the way he sounds. The only thing left is him.

Your body goes limp, arms dangling at your sides as Christoph grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and thrusts you onto his cock - once, twice. Deep thrusts, that make your blood sing.

"O-oh, oh Daddy", you gasp, eyes rolling back. Your body practically goes up in hot, burning flames of lust, sparks tingling in your thighs and your chest and you want him to run his hands all over you and feel you up, but you also don't want him to stop manhandling you like he does - all his pent up energy coming lose, practically giving you taste of how long and cruel his wait had been. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, everything a little hazy already, you would touch yourself, but you just can't - all you can do is spread your legs wider, mouth agape while you pant and moan, relishing in the delicious feeling of his dick fucking you into oblivion.

Your jaw goes slack with it, head lolling back onto his shoulder as he uses you, hammers you down on his dick like a fleshlight. Christoph's grip on your waist and hips is hard enough to leave bruises and tomorrow morning you will be able to see them, an angry red, count the ways he marked you as his.

The thought of you being nothing more to Christoph than his pretty little cocksleeve - young and attractive - that he can take anywhere and fuck whenever he pleases, makes your head swim. You think about him dragging you along to some award-show, showing you off on the carpet and then bending you over the sink in one of the bathrooms because another actor looked at you for a second too long, fucking you until you can't really walk anymore - only to later sit in the award ceremony and feeling his cum leaking out of you. You think of him taking you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant - maybe even with some of his Hollywood-friends - playing with your pussy at the dinner table, whispering sweet nothings in your ear - just because he can, because who would even dare to stop him? You think about visiting him on set, waiting for him in his hotel room - adorned in the jewellery he has gifted you, nothing on but a revealing set of lingerie - waiting for him to take his stress out on you.

It makes you fucking wet, squirt gushing from your cunt, that runs down your folds and that he pumps back into your wanton hole. "Jesus, fuck", you whine, starting to roll your hips with the way he thrusts you down on his dick, feeling him deep deep inside of your pussy, thick head brushing over and hitting your cervix. Hearing him moan with it nearly makes you lose your mind.

You cry out - overstimulated, but so so horny - with his cum squelching out of you with every single thrust, mingling with your juices and dripping, squirting onto the sofa. There are pleas falling from your lips as you yell out with lust and Christoph's quick to clasp one hand around your mouth, your cries and deep moans muffled by the palm of his hand. Your eyelids flutter as you fuck yourself back against his thrusts, his cock hitting your cervix and pain and lust ignite your body, making you want to curl up and just take take take what he gives you.

You feel like you are on fire, your whole body responding to his touch and his thrusts, every single nerve in your body on high alert, as you feel your orgasm coming closer.

Looking down, you can see how he is still thrusting your body down on his dick and you watch, panting. Seeing just how he is using you, like you are nothing but a delicate toy --

It's what tips you over.

A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as you cum, muffled by his hand pressing against your mouth - before he pulls away, allows you to suck in a few deep breaths through your opened mouth.

Your body practically convulses on his cock, shakes rattling your frame as your third orgasm rolls over you, creaming and squirting against his dick, making a pretty mess of his linen slacks and the sofa beneath. You have left quite a few nasty stains tonight, and your cheeks will turn red in a few days, when your mother spots them and Christoph lies to her face.

Your cunt squeezes his dick and you can feel it twitch heavily inside of you, once, twice, and then he cums too, shoots hot ropes of cum inside of your pussy once more. You feel so fucking full, like you are about to burst, as you roll your hips against his, cunt gushing around his cock.

"Oh fuck", you moan sweetly, sacking back against him. You can hear him pant, one hand on your waist coming lose and resting gently on your stomach, rubbing loose circles over your warm skin.

"What a good girl, huh", he whispers, coarse and exhausted. His words barely reach you through the thick cloud, everything turns white and a soft numbness embraces you, makes you feel featherlight, like you are flying. Christoph's arms wrap you in gently, pulling your naked form close to his, the soft linen crinkling and pressing against your naked back.

You stay like this for a while, with his large and soft hands caressing your skin - rubbing your stomach and gently stroking your thigh - until your breath becomes deeper again, your limbs start to feel heavier, more connected to your body once more. "Oh God", you sigh, feeling his cock still plugging your hole up. It grows flaccid slowly, a few drops of his cum already leaking out of you.

Christoph's lips dance along your shoulder, your neck, kissing and pressing down onto the warm skin. His hands grip your hips tightly. "Ready?", and he sounds so so playful, like he is really enjoying this - taking some depraved satisfaction from it - and you can't help but nod, readying for him to pull out.

He lifts your hips, watches how his dick slips out of your hole easily, hears you hiss with it, and then it trickles down. Thick drops, streaks of white cum flush from your used cunt, and he's quick to swipe his fingers along your folds - spreads your pussy and his cum, collects it with his fingers.

They enter your vision and without thinking, like you're still far gone - despite the fact that you aren't - he shoves them between your obediently opened, waiting lips. You close them around his fingers, while the remains of his cum drip out of you still, and start to clean them up, sucking on them, tongue swirling around his digits.

"That's a good girl", his praise has your blood singing, and you whine in protest as Christoph pulls his fingers from your mouth, "So, tell me - where do you go the next time you want a good fuck?"

"To you, Daddy", you say softly, earning you a warm chuckle and a pat on the thigh.

***

Your legs are still wobbly as you make your way downstairs in the morning and out onto the terrace. Your mother and Christoph are sitting in the sun, a light breeze rolling around the terrace, making the seam of the table cloth sway gently.

Your mother is silently eating her breakfast while Christoph rustles with his French newspaper. He appears to be interested in the Feuilleton but you notice how his gaze flickers to you as soon as you're approaching the table, remains glued to your figure, small lines forming around his eyes.

"Oh, honey!", your mother gets up, happy that you are awake, and gives you a featherlight kiss on the cheek, "Oh god, you look horrible, darling! Did you sleep unwell?"

Christoph snorts, but your mother ignores it - holds you at arm length, iron grip around your arms as she assesses your timid frame.

"Yeah, 's just the heat", you mutter, freeing yourself from her death grip and sit down, flinching a little. You're so fucking sore, legs still heavy and hole aching, pussy begging for another touch through the slight pain. Christoph deliberately puts down the newspaper, a smug smile toying at the corners of his lips. It grows rather surprised than complacent as he takes you in fully.

You are wearing one of the dresses he had bought you. You also draped a silk scarf around your shoulders, hiding the viciously glowing bitemark he gave you. His face is expressionless as he looks at you, his cold stare boring into you. For a moment you think, he might rat you out - tell your mother that you snuck out last night.

But he doesn't. Instead, he wordlessly pours you a glass of freshly pressed orange juice, hands it over to you. Your fingers brush over his, goosebumps spreading over your skin at the thought that just a couple of hours, they had been in you, fucking you to hell and back.

You can still feel them inside of you, growing wet at the thought, squirming a little in your chair. If it weren't for your mom sitting right next to you, you'd get up and beg him to fuck you. Your pussy aches at the imagery that your brain conjures up; tits bouncing, one leg hooked over his shoulder, the expensive dress pooling around your waist, glasses on the table clinking with each thrust.

Your mother - oblivious to what is happening in front of her - brabbles on about her plans for the day, while Christoph's gaze is chained to yours.

It feels like his eyes are undressing you, a shadow dances over his greyish eyes, turning them into a darkened sky. Your hand grips the glass tightly, thighs rubbing together. You really wish you could just --

"Careful", he says quietly, pointing at your hand clutching your glass so hard your knuckles start to turn white, and you let go of it, like you just burned yourself. The glass nearly topples over on the white table cloth, the juice trickles down the insides of it lazily, silent testimony to an accident prevented. He's right - it might've burst.

Thank you for taking care of me, Daddy. You want to get up and thank him properly, unzip his pants and --

"Don't you think, that'd be nice, honey?", your mother chimes, still busy with her avocado, and pulls you out of your daydream - you on your knees with Christoph rubbing his cock and balls across your face and making you look like a cheap whore, before he slips it between your plush, waiting lips with their red lipstick smudged - you barely manage not to moan aloud, quickly turning your head her way.

"Huh?", you blink dumbly.

"Honey", she scoffs, "I said - Do you wanna go to the beach today?"

You rather wouldn't. Especially not with your mother around, gushing about the man who fucked you senseless last night. You would rather spend the day with him alone.

Thus, your gaze flickers back to Christoph quicker than you can think about it, quicker than you can stop yourself from doing it. He gives you the slightest nod, that goes completely unnoticed by your mother and rearranges his reading glasses.

Thank you for thinking for me, Daddy.

"Sure, why not?", you can hear yourself say. Christoph rustles with his newspaper and somewhere, in the trees, a bird chimes.

[thesquishypenguin]

Love Me, Please..(NSFW)

Full Bug Maxime Le Mal x Reader - no genitals, orgasm w/o cum, Maxime receiving only

No Valentina / assumed no or failed relationship w her, but no real mention!

Now on AO3!

Roughly 4k words!

-

There was something about you that made Maxime Le Mal rather..shy. Or perhaps it was that the prospect of all your flirting back and forth with each other had actually developed into something more. Something that excited him and made him anxious at the same time. Something..he’d been longing for. Pining for, even. He’d grown very, very smitten with you as you both lounged on your couch, wine in hand. He loved the way you laughed, light and airy. That you weren’t afraid to sass him and crack jokes. He adored the way you looked at him with such interest and joy shining in your eyes. And, although he was almost scared to admit it for the moment, he felt electrified with excitement each time you reached out to touch him among your gestures while you spoke. Whether you jostled his side in playful jest or pat him on the back…to when you touched him on the knee while you spoke to him, eyes locked on each other’s. He’d grown..conflicted about his coat. Longing to take it off, to be that much closer to you. And afraid. Afraid of what you would say or do..but he was about to be surprised by your boldness.

“Can I see?” You asked with such an innocent look and tone to your voice it snapped him out of his thoughts, and for a minute he wasn’t sure what you were talking about - had he zoned out of the conversation and lost track of it that badly? “Uh..heh heh…You mean me in all my glory, mon amie?" Maxime spread his arms out slightly and gestured to himself with a smug, confident expression as he tried to joke and tease his way back into the conversation you were having. Which…was swiftly wiped off his face and just as swiftly replaced by pure fluster and surprise when you simply exclaimed: “Yes!”. He dropped his hands back to his lap and chuckled awkwardly again, feeling the heat rise to his skin. “You are already viewing it, no?” He broke out into another grin, another swift recovery as he framed his face in a V with his thumb and index finger and grinned at you. He felt his heart quicken its step in his chest at the prospect of just what you were asking of him. You seemed to find his reactions amusing at least as your face squinted with your smile, almost laughing at his antics.

“How about…a trade?” You suggested mischievously, a certain sparkle in your eye. This seemed to recapture his attention once more, but before he could ask what the deal was..You moved in, capturing his face gently with your palm and guiding him into your lips. You had been toying with the man softly all evening, watching the effect you hand on him, and now you wanted more. In his surprise his antennae sprang out from their hiding place among his hair style, stiffening before twitching wildly with his emotions. Your kiss was electric, going straight to his core as blush filled his cheeks. This was happening. You were kissing him! You! As soon as he was over the initial shock, Maxime melted into your body and kissed you back. Raising his own hand he cupped your cheek in turn and pressed slightly more feverish kisses into your sweet lips. He hummed soft moans of appreciation and leant in briefly even as you pulled away. “Mon dieu..zhat was….amazing..” He breathed softly, searching your face for your own emotions, and seeing nothing but a pleased and flirtatious look on your face that only entranced him further.

You cast your gaze upward briefly at his twitching antennae.. “A-are..you are sure - You..?....” Maxime trailed off, blush dusting his cheeks as he noticed you paying such close attention to him. Fair was fair and for a kiss like that he’d give you anything, but..he wanted to be sure you were serious. You needn’t reply verbally, your hand reaching out to brush over his delicate antennae to bestow your affection there. “A-ah, c-careful- zhey are…very..eh-…s-sensitive..” He tried to hold your gaze for a moment, in hopes that you would understand his meaning, before glancing away shyly. Curling his fingers in his lap he choked down a small groan of arousal as you played with his antennae. Maxime leaned more into your touch briefly before growing the courage to take more of what he wanted, your sweet and soft lips on his. He brushed your cheek tenderly with his thumb, languidly making out with you for as long as you would allow him to indulge.

Cupping his hand on your cheek you wrapped your fingers around his to lift his hand away, catching his attention. You settled his hand at your hip, Maxime's eyes frantically searching yours for any inclination as to what was going to happen next. “Please?.. Let me?..” You asked, your hands moving to the gemstone buttons of his coat. “Ma chérie…w-wait..” Maxime stopped you softly, his hesitance obvious on his face as he looked at you with worry. “What’s wrong my sweet?” You asked, ever sweeter by the second to him. He pulled away from you softly with a small sigh, embarrassment growing as he waved a hand around slightly and turned to hide his face in it briefly in frustration. “Je ne sais pas..” he moved his glasses up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “..Maxime?” your gentle voice called to him like an angel yet his shoulders sagged. “I am…afraid..” he mumbled into his coat collar as he hunkered down. His blush deepened as you sat in silence, waiting for him to continue. “Zhat..you….you won’t like it…won’t like..me.." He glanced away again, not able to look you in the face.

You watched as his antennae drooped down expressively, tilting your head at him slightly as a small worry pinched your brow a little tighter. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before..?” You suggested truthfully, thinking back to his grand reveal some time ago. Maxime crossed his arms to the suggestion the two times were equal in any regard. “Ceci est différent-…what we are doing is….is..” Intimate. The tips of his ears burned red at the thought of where this was going..even if it was something he craved. “Yes..and that’s what I want. To see you. To admire you….To touch and hold you..” You trailed off lightly, reaching out to smooth over his antennae and hair, watching as he shivered under your touch. Maxime couldn’t help but look at you now, drawn in by your words though his face was flushed so red you could almost feel the heat radiating off him. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath, waiting to see where your words and touch would go, what part of him they’d strike pleasantly next. “To love you..” You smirked, unable to help it as you leant in to press another kiss to his lips. Maxime practically pounced you, a small joyous huff of a laugh leaving him as he adorned your face and lip with as many kisses as he could muster. He was still anxious about..well..a lot of it..but you were just so sweet. So perfect. So loving. And it was all directed his way, bolstering his confidence.

“Ne joue pas avec moi…I beg..” Maxime held your face in his hands, looking into your eyes for the truth behind your words..his own full of hope and fragility. “Let me love you..” You almost pleaded with him to let you in, let you closer to him, wrapping your arms around as much of his thick coat as you could to give the man a hug. With a small whimper somewhere between overflowing adoration and gratitude - and the worry of what would happen when you finally saw. But he dropped his forehead to yours, taking an unsteady breath in, begging you in return “...Please.. Be gentle with me, ma chérie..” If your reaction was bad..well, he hoped you would spare him the worst of it. You nuzzled into his cheek cutely as he sat back again, eyes flicking over you anxiously and antennae twitching.

Taking Maxime’s gloved hand in your own you gave it a gentle squeeze, feeling him return the action. He followed your lead as you stood up and turned towards him and let go, his hands raising to fiddle with each other nervously. His heart was racing and as he went to undo the top gem, he found your hands already there, removing the fabric from around the gemstone. So he stood anxiously like a statue, fidgeting at his sides. Torn between looking away and watching you cautiously for your immediate reaction, knowing it would be the most honest one. You helped him out of his coat, walking around him to free up his arms, able to get a good look at him as you did so. He merely stood there: clasping his hands together as the second set rasped over each other with his swirling anxiety, tucked tight to his body out of the way.

He tried on his slightly false bravado once more “Well…w’at do you think, huh? I am…magnifique.. y-yes?” He gestured at himself with his hands, the other more insectoid limbs spreading out slightly in gesture with the others to show himself off. But his expression read nothing but panic. He slicked his hand through his hair again, antennae popping back forward after the motion. You laid his coat on the back of the couch out of the way for him and returned to his front to stand before him. Maxime cleared his throat, eyes dancing between you and the floor, previous bravado waning away again. “So…” he swallowed thickly “I- I understand..if..you could never-” his shoulders slumped a little further, unsure if he wanted to finish his sentence..or even if he could. You shushed him softly, boldly reaching out to his raptorial claws, the ends sharp like a sickle and spiked - his immediate reaction was to flinch slightly and pull away just a tad, but also watch you like a hawk in surprise at your willingness.

“You are magnificent.” You agreed with his earlier words, raising one to kiss it. Maxime seemed too stunned and flustered to say anything; at least until you tried to draw his insect arms around your body, your actions turning him pink in the face again. “C-Careful..zhey are sharp..” He swallowed as he warned you again, not wanting to injure you..but he also couldn’t help but relish the closeness as you drew them together. You could feel the flex of his arms tightening slightly to pull you just a little closer..and you responded by putting your arms around his neck. Maxime was quick to press his face into you, his more human arms coming up to join the others and cradle you in a hug as you held each other. “You…y-you are not…not disgusted..or…or repulsed-..?” You could feel the light tremble that came with his words as he grew emotional over your actions.”Of course not! I think you’re wonderful! This is amazing. - Besides” you pat his insect arms that were still around your waist. “It’s you. That’s what I care about most.”. 

Maxime let out a gentle sob as you voiced your acceptance, his hands now cradling the back of your head through fistfuls of your hair. “J-je ne peux p-pas croire..” he mumbled little half finished phrases into your shoulder, his antennae tickling you a little as his body hiccupped with his emotions. Thankfully he didn’t seem to be crying too hard, you weren’t looking to bring down the mood - and truthfully, he was just overjoyed! “I’m attracted to the fact that it’s you. How you react when I touch you. When I kiss you.” You further informed. True it was hard to be..sexually attracted to a cockroach..but the fact that it was Maxime is what made it so alluring. Your attraction was beyond physical, but you clearly had no problem showing love to those parts of him. Evident in how your hands slipped under his wings to run up the sensitive part of his back. Maxime hummed softly before sniffing, a different kind of tremble rattling him for a moment as he leant back slightly. He took the moment to lift his glasses and wipe at his face. “L..Love me..please?” He pleaded with you softly to show him more of your affection.

You were all too happy to oblige, already in the midst of doing so. You turned your affections back to his face, peppering him with little kisses until you reached his lips to make out once more. He was quick to lose himself in your love, humming softly as he pressed eagerly into your lips, slipping tongues into each other’s mouths. Knowing that you were okay with his body only stoked the fire in his body more - desperate to keep contact with you until your lips grew sore. Taking a break you kissed along his jaw and down his neck, biting softly at his flesh caused his grip to sandwich you closer to him as he let out a grunt of approval. His breathing quickened as you sucked a mark there, claiming him for yourself. Feeling himself go weak in the knees he almost buckled under your love.

You laughed softly at him, Maxime giving you a wobbly awkward smile in return as he tried to sort out his composure, running a hand through his hair and exhaling a long breath. “Come on” You took his clawed arm in your hand, gently tugging him towards the bedroom - Maxime almost stumbling his way after you eagerly. He couldn’t believe this was really happening! You had so much love for him and..he couldn’t wait to feel all of it. You hummed thoughtfully as you entered the room and cleared your bed of decorative pillows “Are..you okay with being on your back..? Or ..is that uncomfortable?” You asked him curiously, most bugs didn’t like being the wrong side up and you were concerned he’d be bothered by it with his wings and all. Maxime gave you the most adoring look in return for your concern “It is no problem ma cherie, w’atever is best for you, is good with Maxime!” he waved you towards the bed with a flick of his fingers. You sat yourself on the bed and gave it a pat, gesturing for him to join you, Maxime moving to lay down with your guidance.

He swallowed nervously as you straddled him, settling yourself on his abdomen as he placed his hands on his chest, the other set going lax onto the bed out of the way. “..Is zhis okay?” He asked tentatively, “You are comfortable?”. He received your happy nod in response “Are you?” you asked in return, gaining back a “Oui”. Maxime was about to hesitantly ask how you’d like to proceed but, it seemed you had that handled as you moved in to resume where you left off earlier. With you bending to reach down to his lips and him eagerly propping himself up with a claw to get closer, his hands moving to your waist as your tongues slipped into each others mouths. Your deep and loving kisses had him almost breathless as you pulled away, spreading them slowly down his chitinous body until you couldn’t bend to reach any further. He squirmed a little under your kisses, little exclamations leaving his lips as you applied your soft affections down his chest. He watched you with eager eyes for your next move, as you refocused your attention on his antennae. Caressing over them and his hair he let out a blissful sigh, the sensory appendages flicking back up to touch at your hands for more contact. Maxime closed his eyes with a pleased hum that derailed into a shaky moan of pleasure as you captured one between your fingers and ran down the length of it.

You continued to focus there as it seemed to make him the most vocal, pulling moan after moan out of him as they alternated between whiny and deeper, but always so very needy sounding. Soft little pleads began to leave his lips for more as you twirled one around your finger, gently pulling. Maxime’s hands were occupied with your hips, kneading into them harshly as his grunt filtered out into a long moan. His hips pressed up into your body, jostling you slightly as he tried to rub against you. His little thrusts drew your attention downwards, but your hands leaving his antennae caused a pitiful whine to leave him, silenced quickly by you kissing him. You pressed your hands into his body, trailing downwards again, this time shifting yourself down his legs to reach his lower abdomen where his body stopped. A thoughtful hum rumbled in your chest. Maxime panting softly squirmed a little more with his pleasure as it ebbed away, before propping himself up to look at you, his face flushed. “Please..please..” he whined, eyebrows knitting together “Don’t stop now.. I am so close..to…to..” he dropped his head back briefly with a huff, hands running down your thighs. “W-well..how should I..?” You started and after a moment Maxime propped himself up again at your obvious hesitation.

He glanced away bashfully for a moment. “I-...eh… don’t ‘ave..” he gestured below slightly and cleared his throat. “Everything is..internal…so..c'est gênant, je sais..” he worried at the fabric of the bedsheets with his fingers. “But can you still…cum?” you asked, face hot with the topic despite your actions. Maxime made a non-committal sound “C'est embarrassant…N-no but I can still have an org- o-oh -! Merde-!”. You didn’t wait for Maxime to finish his sentence, that was all you needed to know as you tugged on his antennae, his body shaking under you with the sudden burst of arousal that shot through him. He gasped a little for air as his body relaxed again “I-I’ve not fffff-ugh- f-felt zhis good in..so long..you drive me wild. Touche-moi, je t'en supplie! -’ere- ‘ere, touch me, please!-”. Maxime took your hands and pressed them at the section of his body between his legs, and curiously you obliged him. Pressing down with your fingers and thumbs, massaging the softer underside of his body. He fist at the sheets, scrunching them up in his hands as his raptorial claws dug into the bed, writhing under your touch as you stimulated him. “‘Arder, mon amour, I-I can take much, much more-” he begged for you to be firmer with your touches, so you pressed harder into him as you massaged the area. Maxime responded by pressing his hips up into your hands, his panting interrupted only by his deep moans of approval.

“Swap with me..?” you asked of him, Maxime needing a second to get his thoughts together through his hazy thoughts that were scrambled by pleasure. “Huh? Oh- bien sûr..” He sat himself up, you shuffling back to give him some space - but Maxime was quick to capture your face with his hand and press his lips into yours to kiss again. You hummed sweetly, Maxime wrapping you up in his arms and moving around you - gently letting you fall against the plush bed so that he could settle above you. Putting his claws out he used them to steady himself as he laid on top of you, careful not to squish you with too much weight for now. His hands moved to your face, holding you there so that he could slip his tongue into your mouth again. The pair of you taking a moment to once again make out.

Maxime’s hips shifted against yours, gently grinding into you as his breathing picked up again. You took the opportunity to reach up to his dangling antennae and ensnare them in your loving grasp once more, winding them over your fingers. You laughed softly when one slipped loose and caressed your cheek, Maxime letting out a little huff of enjoyment himself as you reacted so positively to his body. He relaxed into you for a moment, nuzzling into your neck until you cupped his antennae to your cheek - turning your face you pressed a kiss to it that made Maxime buckle. “O-oh! Ohh..” He moaned breathily into your neck, his body shuddering on top of you as he curled in on you both.

Sticking out your tongue you wrapped around it, hot and wet and drew it through your mouth, Maxime only about to get out a tense whine on top of you as his hands balled up the sheets again. His wings twitched behind his back, fluttering and making a light buzzing as his body rest on the edge of an impending orgasm. You giggled softly again, releasing his antennae “You’re so cute! I love you” you cooed to him, enjoying the way his body responded to your love. Maxime looked at you with the most lovestruck expression possible “I love you too..so much...” he breathed, your words pushing him closer still. Hooking a leg around him you pressed his body into yours, lifting your hips to rut against him as he let out a little grunt of surprise. He responded quickly, wings fluttering as he pressed rocked his body into yours once more “Ohhh fuck..oh fuck..” he moaned again, unable to keep himself held up anymore he collapsed into your body.

“C-close - I am so close mon amour..” he whined into another deep moan, his eyes almost crossing in bliss as you tugged slowly on his antennae again from base to tip. Maxime choked out a noise as his hips stuttered, you took his chin between your thumb and forefinger and pressed your lips firmly into his. Fingers wrapping tight around his antennae you pulled firmly, his cry muffled by your mouth. His movements became sharp and sloppy against you as he reached his peak, his moan deep and guttural as his muscles locked up into a tremble. You still moved against him helping ease out his pleasure, your kisses directed to his cheek as you unwound your fingers from him to run them through his hair. He whined another moan into your neck, collapsing fully he squished you under him. His limbs stretched out as all he could do was simply heave for breath after the exertion of his orgasm. You ran one of your hands through his hair, eliciting little shivers out of him - your other hand reaching to hold one of his hands and entwine your fingers. Maxime nuzzled into your neck with a hum, still getting used to the tingling and relaxed feeling that was flowing through his body, slowly beginning to kiss you there in appreciation. His kisses tickled as you snuggled him back, giving a gentle squeeze to his hand that was returned. He fluttered his wings back into place neatly and let out a long, pleased sigh.

“Stay with me..? Forever.. Let me be yours..” Maxime managed to prop himself up enough to gaze into your eyes, longing and desperate for your commitment “Tu m'aimes..as I am..like zhis..I ‘ave never felt more alive. More cherished..”. Cupping his face you brushed your thumbs over his cheeks, Maxime tilting his head into your touch more, his antennae sagging and relaxed in front of his face. “I’ll love you with all my heart, Maxime” you promised with a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners with your delight. He let out a short, happy laugh and flopped into you once more, head nestled under your chin as you settled down for a comfortable night together. “...Let me recover, s'il te plaît..then..I return the favour..heh” He chuckled with a smirk, promising you the night of your life next.

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 I'm sorry

Warnings: angst. Mal and Lilly being in emotional pain. Goodbyes

Summary: Aponi Lilly is finally going to heaven.... but she didn't realize she'd have to say goodbye to her best friend... again.....

For Good

Mal ran quickly into the hotel.

The news that a bright light had opened up in the sky got around quickly and..... she hadn't seen Aponi.....

She practically broke down the doors of the hotel building when she ran in....

Only to find an angel standing in front of Lilly.

"Mal!" Aponi shouted before running up to her friend, giving her the biggest hug. "Mal, it worked! We're going to heaven!" Aponi stated as she pulled away from the hug, placing her hands on Mal's shoulders.

"Wait.. we?" Mal asked, still trying to process what was happening.

"Well actually... as of now, Lillian Carlton, you are the only one who has been redeemed," the strange angel spoke out.

Aponi's eyes widened and her smile faded.

"No.... no not... not without them..." Aponi stated, gesturing to her friends and Husband, alastor. "Not without you," she muttered, turning to mal, holding her hand.

"Lilly..... one time chance.... you... you dont belong down here," Mal stated, pushing down the heartache.

"No..... no Mal i.. I can't go up there without you... not again... I won't...." Lilly stated, tears welling up in her eyes.

Mal sighed and pushed Lilly's hair out of her face to see both of her eyes.

"Just look at me," Mal started. "Im.... I'm not built for life up there," she muttered.

"No no. I'm limited without you-" Lilly began.

"Just look at you! You c an do all I couldn't do, Lilly," Mal interrupted. "Now it's up to you.... for both of us..." Mal stated.

"........ Then do me two favors," Lilly started.

"Anything," Mal replied.

"You have to try to get up there... as hard as you can. Try... please," Lilly stated, taking both of Mal's hands.

Mal sighed. "Alright.. I will," she lied.

"Alright.... and.. one more thing...." Lilly stated before looking at mal with a small smile. "One more duet?" She asked.

Mal chuckled, a tear rolling down her face.

"I know a song," Lilly stated before giving alastor a Wadded up peice of paper with music notes on it and sending him to the piano.

Mal gasped at the music....

Wicked..... their favorite musical since they were 10......

As the music started Mal took a breath. "I've heard it said... That people come into our lives For a reason," she sang as a tear rolled down her face. "Bringing something we must learn.... And we are led to those..... Who help us most to grow if we let them.... And we help them in return," she stated as she looked around at all the demons who inhabited the hotel now.....

Angel stood over to the left,, holding fat nuggets.. and Mal knew that they had helped people.....

"Well, I don't know if I believe that's true," she sang before turning back to Lilly and holding out both of he rhands for Lilly to take. "But I know I'm who I am today, Because I knew you," she sang as Lilly took her hands. "Like a comet pulled from orbit As it passes the sun," she sang as she looked up into the sky... Sheyhadnt seen the sun in years...

She turned back to Lilly. "Like a stream that meets a boulder Halfway through the wood," she wiped a tear that threatened to fall a. The looked at her best friend... "Who can say if I've been changed for the better But...... because I knew you," she took a deep shaky breath as She thought about how much Lilly loved her... "I have been changed for good,"

Lilly took a deep breath as she wiped away a tear on Mals face before beginning to sing as well.

"It well may be That we will never meet again In this lifetime...." she snag as she realized she might never see anyone down here again... "So, let me say before we part," she took a deep breath before tightening her hold on Mals hands.. "So much of me Is made of what I learned from you! You'll be with me.... Like a handprint on my heart," Lilly sang as she tried not to break down... she was leaving her lifeline....

"And now whatever way our stories end..... I know you have rewritten mine.... By being my friend," She sang as she remembered when they were little... just meeting one another.... "Like a ship blown from its mooring, By a wind off the sea..... Like a seed dropped by a sky bird In a distant wood...." her voice cracked as she sang. "Who can say if I've been changed for the better... But..... because I knew you," she sang, looking at mal with a loving smile.

"Because I knew you," Mal sang in return.

"I have been changed for good," both the girls sang at the same time as hell seemed to melt away.. It was just them against the world again....

"And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness, For the things I've done, you blame me for," Lilly sang, somehow singing about when Mal had pushed her away all those years ago..

"But then I guess, We know there's blame to share," Mal sang in return.

"And none of it seems to matter anymore! Like a comet pulled from orbit (like a ship blown from its mooring), As it passes the sun (by a wind off the sea), Like a stream that meets a boulder (like a seed dropped by a bird), Halfway through the wood (in the wood)," the girls both sang their respective verses, turning away from each other, one of their hands still holding onto the other.

The girls turned back to each other, tears in their eyes as they sang... "Who can say if I've been changed for the better?" The girls sang, their voices cracking and breaking with the urge to jildnonto one another and cry.. "I do believe I have been changed for the better," with the way they looked at one another... you could tell... they were telling the truth through the lyrics.

"And because I knew you," Mal sang, her voice cracking again before she sniffled.

"Because I knew you," aponi sang in return, looking sadly at her best friend.

"Because I knew you," the girls both sang. "I have been changed," as hell made itself back into their concious minds, the girls felt heavier. "For good," when the song finished, the girls gave one another the tightest hug..

"Don't forget me, okay?" Mal asked, her eyes screwed shut, almost as if, if she opened them, Lilly would be gone.

"The day I forget you is the day I forget how to feel," Lilly muttered into Mal's neck.

"You are wonderful, and pure, Lillian Carlton. Never lose that," Mal muttered.

"And you are amazing, and lucky... and to me, your full name means to be utterly and wonderfully you.... and as long as I am in your head you are never allowed to forget how much I love you, Hotaru," Lilly sniffed as she used the name Mal's mom had given her.

Mal began to sob, holding on tighter to Lilly.

The angel floated up, placing a hand on Lilly's shoulder.

"It is time," The angel stated.

Lilly pulled back before quickly running to kiss alastor.

"Te amo, mi amor," Alastor spoke against her lips.

Lilly laughed. "You said it right.... you practiced," she muttered. "je t'aime aussi," she muttered in response before a bright light overtook the room.

When everyone opened their eyes......

Lilly and the other angel were gone.

Mal fell to her knees in tears, holding herself.

"Calm down.. shh shhhh Mal calm down," She muttered to herself as she rubbed her own arms, trying not to have a panic attack.

Angel dust turned to Alastor, putting a hand on the radio demon's shoulder.

Alastor shrugged him off sharply.

"Well then! Shall we all have some dinner?" Alastor asked. His voice extra glitchy as he attempted to act like he was okay.

"Do you just not care?!" Mal sobbed, anger and sadness on her face as she looked up at him.

"Oh, darling if I cared about every lowly demon who made a deal with me, I wouldn't be who I am today, now would i?" Alastor asked.

"You heartless asshole!" Mal shouted.

"Well then. I can see that this is a very hostile environment. I'll be in Aponi's room, cleaning out her things!" Alastor exclaimed, turning to the stairs.

He barely made it up one step before Mal spoke again.

"Her name was Lilly! And she loved you, you.... you demon!" She screamed.

Alastor continued his walk up to Lilly's room, closing the door.

........

Alastor stood in the room....

He just stood.... nothing else....

His smile fell and the tears he was holding back were let free.

He walked over to Lilly's closet, taking out one of her shirts...

It still smelled like her.....

He walked over to her nightstand, grabbing her phone, struggling to get to her gallery before landing on a photo of her kissing his cheek, a blush on his face.

"Please Lilly..... tell me what to do...." Alastor mumbled as he sat on her bed, setting her phone down and looking around the empty room.

..........

"Mal, you gotta get up," Angel stated as he crouched down next to mal.

"Please go away.... shes... she's gone..." Mal whispered.

And she was right....

[fryingpan1234567]

malconnor...hcs... for the soul... pls...

oh ANON, I would LOVE to

SO

(AAAAAAA I GOTTA FREAK OUT FIRST MY BOYS)

k anyways

I think at some point Travis comes back to camp to visit, and while he was gone Malcolm and Connor had gotten together

so over the course of the first few days he was like huh that’s funny my little brother made a new friend

huh that’s funny they’re really good friends

huh that’s funny they are making out against a wall “hEY C O N N O R !”

the shovel talk help😭🫠

anyways Travis gets used to it eventually it’s fineeee

I was actually about to write a Home Alone AU for the two of them in which they’re the only two at camp because Malcolm’s dad is on a cruise with his new gf, Connor’s mom is on a mission too dangerous to have company, Travis is at Katie’s family’s for break, Dionysus is back on Olympus, AND Chiron goes off to visit some of his relatives. Bad time for an invasion but yk they handled themselves fine

Malcolm is a California boy FIGHT ME

beach drives with all the windows down help

the parallels… between Percabeth and Malconnor… “I’m so sick of your shit (affectionate)” blond Athena kid… “too bad you get to deal with more of it” dark haired little shit who is taller and loves bugging blondie while they’re trying to do homework… hhrngh the PARALLELS

Malcolm of course finds it attractive when Connor actually uses the brain cells he has… but a part of him will always find it so fucking adorable when Con turns to him with the most bewildered face and say “Mal… my math homework has letters in it”

(bonus: “it’s algebra, babe”

”I dropped out of algebra”

”…algebra is the grade standard tho”

”oh fuck me I have a hard enough time with letters in English”

”let’s…….. put the homework away for now. Mario Kart?”

”OHOHO YOU ARE GOING THE FUCK DOWN PRETTY BOY”

”I THINK NOT, HE WHO ALWAYS PICKS TOAD AND THE STUPID TOY CAR”

”DON’T TALK TO ME DEFAULT SETTINGS LOSER” I’m getting off track I had a very similar conversation with my brothers the other day but it’s fine)

hmm something about Connor being obsessed with the Heartstopper comics and Malcolm loving the Solitaire novel series

they are firm believers they’d win the Hunger Games together too

NOT MAL RECHARGING BY SITTING AND READING AND CON RECHARGING BY WRAPPING AROUND HIM LIKE A SLOTH AND PASSING THE FUCK OUT

symbiotic relationship, Malcolm would say

(another bonus: “shut the fuck up you’re making us sound like Venom”

”we could be as good as Venom if u really wanted”

“we’re better than Venom, baby”)

Malcolm loving the Marvel Comics is just something so important to me

Hermes gripping Malcolm by the shoulders and going “listen. that’s my boy. he pulled a Tartarus napkin out of a fireplace. do not hurt him” and Mal’s just like yeah man I was there

also Athena eyeing Connor and whispering to Malcolm, “is he smart?” and Mal kinda gives a half-nod-half-shrug, Con grins at her like an idiot (it’s giving golden retriever), and just like that she loves him

anyways my boys💖💖💖

[desires-of-chain]

Hiii I’ve had a scenario in my head for a lil while and you might be able to write it out 👀👀. But basically I’m a simp for Time and Malon so do you think you can do a scenario where reader (preferably fem but gender neutral is fine 😊) is in bed with them and is laying back against time so like back to chest (and maybeeee he’s doing some cheeky nip play) and then Malon is giving oral?? I just know she would be great at it and that with a side of cuddly Time is *chefs kiss*. Love the writing you do, you’re keeping us dirty lil fans occupied and I’m incredibly happy about it 💜💕💜

I am, too, a simp for Time and Malon. They are my dream team, this is an ask I will lay down my life for. Gotta thank the anons for everything they do to keep us fed and horny. They are the real ones here. I pushed through my writer's block and gave it a middle finger cause fuck them, the hornies need me!

Reader got a puss.

Hope the meal was delicious!

"T-that's ah, hahh,"

They just had you all wrapped up prettily around their pinkies. Looking so cute to them with your face scrunched up, soft sighs, and mewls that left your gorgeous lips. Your back rests against your husband's chest, head against his, hotly panting while staring teary-eyed down at the redhead you call your wife; between your legs.

Being held wide open by her hands, keeping the flailing limbs pressed to the bed. She presses kisses against your clit, humming delightfully into your pussy while softly groaning at the taste. Ever so often, her tongue would dive into your fluttering entrance, tongue fucking your soaking, clenching cunt before turning to the long, languid strokes. She lapped at your juices as if they were nectar.

"Fu- ngh, Mal," You whined.

Her thumbs pulled apart your lips with such gentleness; her mouth puckers before spitting onto your pussy. She moaned at the sight of how delicious it looked, so wet and pliant to her. Pink and enticing with a quivering clit that beckons her to devour the cute bud.

Her mouth enclosed around the pulsing button, giving it a harsh suck and releasing it with a loud 'pop.' She looks up through her lashes, giving you a wink with a giggle and a smirk on her lips, her eyes still on you as she lathes over the clit, slowly encircling it before pressing flat and repeating. 

"Puh-please, I- uhm, ngh!" You sobbed, feeling yourself shaking under her ministrations, hips jolting upwards at every suckle and lick she gave, hands sinking into her hair with a tight grip while begging her to keep going. Pleasured tears ran hotly down your cheeks, loud whines and hitched breaths with 'oh, oh, please, oh goddesses, oh!'

Another tongue licked up the tears, lips peppering kisses across your cheeks.

"Shh, let us take care of you." Time hummed into your skin, his fingers deftly pinching, pulling, and rolling your buds. His lips traced your neck, placing a kiss and licking across the vastness, nose brushing against your flush skin. He cups your chest in his hands, squeezing before traveling back to your nipples to pinch and pull them between his fingers again. 

He breathes into your ear, 

"You're doing so good," he purrs, "so, so good for us, darling. Look how good you're doing; so sweet, so cute. Do you want to cum?"

You nodded your head frantically, whimpering to them both,

"I-I want to cum! C-can I-I cum, please?!" You keen at the feeling of her thumb rubbing tight circles. Her mouth takes over while her lithe fingers slowly thrust in and curl in on that sweet spot.

"Be good for Malon, be good for me, come on, let us hear you, cum for us. We got you." Time rumbled.

White exploded across your vision as Malon gave you one last harsh suck on your clit; choking on a breath and releasing a wail so loud that it left your ears ringing; your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your body shook and twitched at the powerful orgasm that overtook you. You felt like mush, mind laying on clouds, soft mewls, every twitch and jolt of your hips with the satisfied flutter of your cunt.

[huitzilinthebudgie3]

Un Dia Mal

Summary : In which we delve into the what if scenario with Marc and Y/n . What if Marc had waited…and asked Layla for help after the 3 months being gone. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n had woken up slightly late (2 minutes after her normal time) , as she rushed to shower , brush her teeth , change for school and manage to consume some sustenance for the morning before school.

She rushed into the flat before tripping over one of Stevens pile of books with a thud and cringed at the dust that had been kicked up. She sneezed a few times as she rearranged the books into their previous jenga like tower before rushing into the kitchen. 

Where pda was on display….she made a face as she grabbed a mug for coffee and quickly served it as she turned back to find stern faces "Aww what's wrong little bug ?" She wrinkled her nose at the affectionate name "People are weird..between you guys , miguel and dana…this pda thing is gross" Layla chuckled at that kissing her forehead "Yeah , well you'll grow up eventually and have someone you'll want to kiss" She quirked a brow at that "Mother….i do not require affection…nor will i bend to the will of being bound to a mere-mortal" she said while drinking her coffee and eating some breakfast “You need to stop watching those supernatural dramas with her babe” Marc sighed. 

She felt a heavy gaze settle over her as she ignored the sensation focusing on her homework "How are your grades , kiddo ?" Marc asked as Y/n glanced up momentarily "Oh…uhh i have a 3 A's , 2 B's and one C" she said nonchalantly "That's good darling" her mom smiled "Oh…Ms.what's-her-face said she was gonna call you guys about an event or something" she said as both her parent gave her an expression that you could probably imagine.

"What about ? Do you have an F?" She glanced up with a quirked brow "No..something about cinnamon rolls? I dunno, this lady always talks to me , while i'm reading" she huffed in frustration. 

Her Dad chuckled "Honor Roll ? That's a good baby girl" he smiled "We're proud of you kiddo." She hummed "So you guys staying or you guys have to work again ?" She asked, trying to change the conversation and they stayed silent..which meant they would probably be gone again by the time she was home from school .

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n sighed as she walked down the sidewalk to the bus , it was like 3 blocks from her house….but she had a 15 minute cushion. Anxiety was fun…especially when school was a long walk away . So she’d be 15 mins early to the bus stop , she sighed as she silently walked past a few buildings noting the new scenery.

New York was new for her , they'd be here for past 2 years..which in the span of her 16 years of life was short…they'd lived multiple places in the past…the longest being Los Angeles , where she picked up the subtle californian accent and slang.

New York was after London…which she had enjoyed slightly….but not a lot as her mom was now a hero…and around less lately …usually with her Dad…..and now she was being a baby.

They only started leaving her alone for extended periods of time. Assuring her it was temporary …which wasn't uncommon for her as her mom was an archeologist….and sometimes she was gone for a handful of days…to weeks..maybe a few months for her Dad…but Mom was usually gone for a few days at most .  Lately…well a year ago, It'd extended… they'd been gone 6 months …leaving the neighbors in charge ... .Miguel's Mother Conchata …. who invited her over for dinners and to hang out. Essentially adopting her temporarily.

And they'd just gotten back from a Month trip ... .a month ... .not that it bothered the practically adult teen…but it was an adjustment.

She was brought out of her thoughts by whimpering as she glanced down an alleyway sheepishly ….her instinct telling every hair on her body to stand and get the hell out of there.

Except she heard a whisper…her ears straining to hear the very faint whisper as she sighed walking a bit further in.

Her mind racing "This is some scary movie sh*t…ya idiot…" she huffed to herself "But theres a puppy in there or a dog…it's crying" she reasoned to herself pacing a bit as she walked away further to the bus stop before sighing "And …" she frowned turning around back to the alley and walking in and softly staring at the black dog…it's fur drenched in blood as 2 long gashes ran down from it's chest to it's ribs.

She frowned softly petting the damp fur "awww…it's okay……" she cooed "Well it's not okay cuz that looks bad…" she muttered to herself as she winced at the dogs whine …cuz it was a dog.

….it heard her as she winced "Oh it's okay , tis a flesh wound" she reassured …smiling faintly as a memory struct "You can probably walk it off" she said reassuringly petting the dog as it whined and growled softly. Before opening it's mouth in her lap and nuzzling something into her hand. She quirked a brow as she picked it up to look as the dog nuzzled her hand close before looking into her eyes and whining as if to communicate something. 

She hummed "Hey , i'll watch it and deliver it to your owner" she smiled softly  "And hey , if it's time …it's time. You won't hurt anymore and you can find peace and stuff " she reassured before adding "Unless………uhhhhhh…………….. you don't believe that or you're like some evil dog…" she hummed before chuckling "Or you have like unfinished business…then i guess you can haunt whoever did this to you" she smiled sheepishly noting that the poor thing had passed at the peace part as she sighed "I'll come back later and take you to the vet clinic" she smiled reassuringly petting it one last time before checking her watch and cursing as ran out of the alley way.

She cursed as she ran to the stop..and watched it pull away…not stopping as she sighed pinching her nose in frustration. And beginning the walk to the next bus that stopped a block away from her school

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Today was turning out shitty as she'd missed her bus for school. The dog was worth it…it sadly still died in an alley but…at least it had company. And she tried being …oh poor dog..she's talked its ear off !!! 

The good thing was that Miguel..her best-friend and neighbor held the door open as she ran into the building before it closed for the day. Miguel..ever the dorky nerd , he held his hand out as they walked.

 “C’mon where’s your math homework ? Did you ask your parents for help ?” she gave him a confused look “Homework ? Which class ?” Miguel fixed her with a drool look as they walked to stand in the line for the lockers room for P.E “The Algebra homework” Y/n hummed “Nah , i have a 20 point cushion from extra credit last week” she said nonchalantly as Miguel glared “En serio ?” he huffed in disbelief and disappointment. 

She shrugged “I can probably afford the 1 missing assignment “ Miguel sighed “Lunch , we are doing it before we have class. No way you're missing it , because we are going on the Honor Roll End of the semester trip!” he said firmly.

She snorted “You really think , my parents will let that happen ?” 

Miguel rolled his eyes “Sure , they're never home. They’d never know” that struck a nerve as she sighed "I guess…but they have to sign the permission slip" Miguel quirked a brow "They don't know you forge it ? Still think my mom sign" she glared "Dude , you forge your moms signature and you live with her full time" she countered as he held his hands up "Ay! Calmate! I was kidding"

*a few minutes later*

Y/n was in the middle of talking to miguel …waiting for roll call to begin when his girlfriend interuppted "Spector, you weirdo….hands bleeding " the older girl laughed as Y/n frowned before realizing that her hand was indeed bleeding as she tried recalling cutting herself so bad…it was actually dripping. 

Before recalling she had felt a sting when the dog had pushed the thing into her hand.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The day went normally , she went to all 6 periods…studied with miguel…, his friends and his girlfriend. Who were all upperclassmen and teased her about being 'so much' younger as she rolled her eyes…she was only 3 months younger than Miguel.

Gabriel …..Miguel's little brother also hung out with them…but he was acting different with her now. They had been close once …back when Miguel had ignored and been mean to her…but it was a good close …that…..she couldn't explain it….she had tried once and it resulted in a Jake appearance…and now he acted like this…so..yeah.

So now Y/n just avoided him out of him being awkward. And that was that.

Anyways , she was currently on her way home…walking….as she'd taken the wrong bus and ended up in the complete opposite side of town.

So she sighed , walking down the road later because her dumb ass …again took the wrong bus and them tripped over her own feet.

She sighed remembering the dog…from earlier…and deciding that it would be best …to atleast take the poor thing to the vets to be cremated..but it probably cost money ..and she had like 20 from allowance cash…on her person. Assuming her parents were gone again.  She'd buy some dinner…from the taco stand by the apartment.

However….she felt bad..and poor dog had gone through enough. So she walked down the road to the alley way. She sighed handing over the money as the receptionist smiled telling her that they would call her when it’s body was ready for pick up.

She nodded before making her way home……

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Like usual….she walked home having missed her window for the taco stand…..something that probably would’ve lightened her day. She returned home to find a set of very upset parents….she was unsure how to respond and being her fathers daughter as her mother always mentioned.

She made a issue that could’ve been easily resolved with a ‘Sorry , it won’t happen again’ , placing a ‘It wasn’t my fault , there was a bus mix-up ,after study group , and then i fell and ….wait you guys are home ?! You guys didn’t text me …how was i supposed to know ! You guys aren’t ever home’ which earned her a rebuking and sent to her room. Honestly sometimes she didn’t think things through , she had failed to notice the streamers and cake set up as they called her out after her fathers and mom lectured her about talking back and paying attention.

And then they sat down , ate dinner….pizza….

…she hated pizza….she wanted and craved the bomb ass tacos from down the road….and then her parents handed her an enveloped with a black and white blob as she quirked a brow curiously glancing up from them and the blob before reality slammed down …and guess what….

“We’ll be home more , we moved work and we’ll be around for more…and we’ll spend more time with you….”

And she wasn’t paying attention as she heard a dull ringing in her ear….she felt a rush of different types of emotions…….

….Being the only kid for 16 years…comes with issues because… she had at some point begged for another sibling and she understood then and now that it had been hard for her parents even more because of her for some reason. Her mother always told her that she was and had been a unexpected blessing..so she’d always assumed it ended there. And now…NOW after 16 years they finally decided it was time…or fate whatever higher being ?!!!!

Not only that but , her whole life they’d moved , wandered and explored ….hell after school became worrisome they’d left her in the Americas  continue her education. So they weren’t willing to stop for her…but for this tiny little thing that wasn’t even existent….

She hadn’t even realized she’d gone to her room , nor the knocking on her door until the annoying bird that was a constant in her life sat on her bed. He always gave her strangely violent advice like …Jake but…more sagely.

He was currently staring at her as she sighed deeply “I fucked up , huh big bird?” she murmured.

“It’s not set in stone , little worm. You’d be surprised…what one word can do” she sniffled at that as tears welled up in her eyes “Why can’t i do shit right” she huffed wiping her eyes angrily “Sometimes i wonder if life would be easier for them without me…” she murmured as she shuffled to lean against the old birds legs as he patted her head in a affectionate pet kind of way “I assure you it wouldn’t” she snorted “How do you know..oh great spirit guide” she huffed “I just get in the way….i bet there wasn’t even a party with me. They were probably like ‘oh shit…one escaped the condom’ “ she huffed as the bird made a distressed noise “You are -something else , little bug” she shrugged “Normals boring…tried it when i was born…didn’t like it……” she chuckled as the bird smiled “Now wake up” she jolted up in her bed half asleep as she glanced around in pain as she stared at the wound on her palm from the dogs necklace….before screaming at the giant glowing canary eyes……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Note : I hope you liked it and let me know if you want another part 🙂

Have a wonderful Day/Night !!!!!!!!! :) :)

[elliewiltarwyn]

Mia Longhart

tagged by @ubejamjar, thank you! I did one for Ellie already, so I figured I might as well take the opportunity to /showleft Mia a little...

B A S I C S

Name: Mia Longhart, formerly Maia jen Asina. Adopted the name when she arrived in Eorzea to hide her Garlean origins with the surname being adopted from a Chinese Yanxian word for dragon. Nicknames: Not exactly a nickname, but for near the entirety of their early careers in the Scions, she gets along so poorly with Elilgeim that the latter only refers to her as Longhart even when explicitly requested otherwise, only letting up after Livia's raid on the Waking Sands. Otherwise, very difficult to make any nicknames for such a short name, but her partners come up with Mimi eventually. Age: 22 at the beginning of ARR, headcanoning that it's 4 years to the end of 6.0 and then another year for the patches, which would make her 27 now Nameday: Fourteenth Sun of the Fourth Umbral Moon (August 14th) (which, as far as I can tell, was the Friday after patch 5.3 dropped: I originally made her to see what the revised ARR quests were like and then Oops New Main Character in my Lore) Race: Highlander Hyur, Garlean specifically Gender: Female Orientation: Demi-bisexual, does not figure this out until she starts developing crushes on Lyse and Ellie and has no idea what that means Profession: Pre-ARR, gladiator of the bloodsands. Eventually Scion of the Seventh Dawn, then one of the three Warriors of Light. Post-6.0, she helps coordinate aid and reconstruction efforts for Garlemald alongside the Ilsabard contingent and the twins.

P H Y S I C A L   A S P E C T S

Hair: Cobalt blue, usually tied into a ponytail or braided around her crown, always combed as smooth and straight as possible. Eyes: Emerald green Skin: Olive Tattoos/Scars: as many as is typical for the Warrior of Light. In addition, the one on her cheek is dealt by Zenos at Rhalgr's Reach. When battling Zodiark, she overextends herself using Passage of Arms against his ultimate attack and gets her left arm horribly burned; she's healed quickly afterwards thanks to Y'shtola and Ellie's healing magicks and the Loporrits' aid, but it leaves behind permanent burn scarring along her left arm and it becomes too sensitive/uncomfortable for her to wield shields anymore, so she drops them.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Aulus mal Asina, praefectus medicorum and secret magitek research & development engineer, and Carmilla lux Asina, primus medicus. It's their legacy in particular she's spurning when she leaves Garlemald. yes canonically Aulus died at 36 so he can't exactly be the father of a 24-year-old but shush. he's older in my canon. i can do that. Siblings: None directly; however, she grew up next to Jullus pyr Norbanus and his siblings, and spent enough time with them to have considered them her younger siblings. Grandparents: None notable, just proud Garlean citizens. In-laws and Other: In the long period between 6.0 and 6.1, gets married to Ellie and Lily; with the sole exception of Ellie's mother (and even then very distantly, as Ellie herself is still processing how she feels about her), none of their family members are close enough (or... too dead) to count. Pets: Fat cat and possibly Rudy the Starlight yeti, as with Ellie. She has a tendency to semi-adopt stray cats as well -- not actually take them home, but at least check in on and feed them whenever she can.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Diplomacy: Next to Minfilia and Alphinaud, she is probably the most skilled at politicking, and has a keen sense for what everyone in the room wants and how to extract what she or her allies need from the people across the table. First Aid: The jen in her old Garlean name refers to the training she received from a yearlong course to become certified as a medicus; with a kit, she would be able to act as the Eorzean equivalent of an EMT rapid responder. Free Paladin: the whole gladiator and paladin storyline is canon for her, and she's not very happy about it :V Though as a Garlean she can't manipulate aether, she uses a combination of magitek equipment and experimental implants from the Ironworks to help create reasonable facsimiles of paladin abilities and magic. However, after the events of Shadowbringers and what Emet-Selch does to her regarding the pieces of her soul... she becomes capable of a little more rudimentary control over her aether, by dint of her own soul-merging, much like Ellie does with Ardbert... Voidbound Reaper: after the events of 6.0, Ellie gives up the reaper arts, but is unable to properly sever her pact, and eventually her former avatar comes knocking. Mia, finally accepting that there are parts of Garlemald's history that aren't tainted by the touch of Ascians, steps in with her Garlean physiology and intimate knowledge of the avatar's former partner to form a new pact. Despite having been the platonic ideal of paladin all the way through saving the universe, she's going into Dawntrail with the scary-looking lost arts of her people instead.

Hobbies: Reading fiction, usually adventure or thrillers. Can play the violin and piano at a beginner-to-intermediate level. Decently skilled at leatherwork and botany, and begins to get into gardening once she has a home (and a private island lol) of her own.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Of the three Warriors of Light and even among all the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, she has the strongest moral compass and sense of right and wrong, which makes her capable of being a stabilizing or grounding force when her comrades begin having doubts about their missions, the one who's most certain that the path she's taking is the one that's just. (Encountering Emet-Selch and learning about the Ascians' truth kneecaps this severely.) Most Negative Trait: She wears her heart on her sleeve, which means as good as she is at reading people she is just as easy to read - and emotionally manipulate or derail, crippling her with doubt and anxieties.

L I K E S

Colors: The navy blue of her armor, the gold of its trim, the green of the jewelry she likes to wear but is self-conscious about, the deep red of Ellie's hair Smells: Freshly-brewed tea, lavender soaps (her preferred I've-just-spent-several-days-in-armor-and-need-to-smell-like-anything-else go-to), the crisp air of autumn Textures: the bound covers of a new hardcover book, the soft cotton of the freshly-laundered clothes she prefers to steel armor, the crunch of autumn leaves, the sensation of grass brushing against bare feet Drinks: Teas ranging from spicy chai to citrusy bergamot, coffee with cream, the occasional red wine

OTHER DETAILS

Smokes: No, she is embarrassingly straight-edged and slightly self-conscious about it. Drinks: As noted above, the occasional red wine, usually an easy merlot, or champagne at important functions. Her tolerance isn't the best and she knows it, so she keeps herself well-moderated and only lets herself get fully sloshed among those she trusts most (so Ellie and Lily). Drugs: Again, nope, feels embarrassingly straight-edged about it but is not judgmental about friends who choose to recreationally. Mount Issuance: Named her company-issued chocobo Pom, after pomegranates, for some reason she couldn't fathom at the time. (it's persephone reasons. i'm not being subtle.) Surprisingly finds herself kind of a fan of the Ironworks' single-pilot flight machines like manacutters and the Falcon -- and of the three Warriors of Light, she's the one entrusted with the Regalia Type-G, as the experimental vehicle needs to be handled with a great deal of care and she's known as the most responsible. Been Arrested: Nearly -- when her father discovered the correspondence she was keeping with someone from Ala Mhigo, he "granted" her the chance to leave and never return before he summoned the lictors. When she came to Eorzea, she was so paranoid about being discovered that she acted the picture of morality -- and indeed was frequently the one posting bail for some of the more unscrupulous members of the Gladiators' Guild.

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

more people to tag uhhhh i'm having difficulties remembering who's done this yet, so sorry in advance, if you have done this already or just don't feel like it then consider this a boop: @sasslett @bnuuywol @sylaurin @mythandral @vasheden, and as always, you if you're interested!

[bunny-lou]

Hey! I have another prompt because I love you're writing so so much. Carlos is an omega but Omegas are almost always female. So thats how people treat him and it causes him dysphoria and he really is a guy god damn it. So Jay (alpha or beta) helps him reaffirm that he is male no matter his status. I hope this prompt is ok! Thanks for your time and the awesome works you make!

This has been sitting in my ask box for three years, I hope it's worth the wait @darkprinceofdarkness! One of my recent favorite things about ABO fics are exploring the gender dynamics with alphas/omega and what it means to be a dominant/aggressive girl or a submissive/dainty guy. I think there's a lot to explore about the intersectionality of what it means to be a boy/girl with what it means to be an alpha/omega, so enjoy!

---

Pretty.

Delicate.

Petite.

Carlos doesn't consider himself to be any of those things. Not just because he's from the Isle either. (Though Evie is somehow all of those things despite the Isle shaping her into one of the most vicious girls Carlos has ever met.)

But he's a boy. Carlos doesn't want to be those things, he isn't those things. But that's what omegas are supposed to be.

That's what they are in the magazines and in the movies and in the textbooks. They're portrayed like girls.

And it shouldn't bother Carlos, he knows Auradon is weird about gender norms, it's a conversation he's had many times with Lonnie and even a few times with Chad. It's so heavily enforced by the older heroes, those who are so afraid of change, but there is a new generation in Auradon Prep who know that boys can be feminine and girls can be masculine and those who aren't quite boy or girl can be anything in between.

It's one of the few things Carlos feels superior to Auradon for - his open mindedness.

It shouldn't upset him that Auradon wants him to be...girly. But the few strides Auradon has made with breaking down gender stereotypes haven't even touched the stereotypes with someone's role, their secondary gender. Even Chad, an omega boy with lip gloss and manicured nails, still quirks a brow at Carlos' callouses and grease stained shirts.

Carlos fits sometimes - his love for fashion, his adoration for small dogs, his dark eyes that seem just too wide when compared to other omegas - but he doesn't fit at the same time. He's got more muscles than any omega he knows, he flinches when people try to do his hair, his skin is marked with scars and imperfections, a history of a hard life that most omegas don't have.

"C? You good?" Jay calls from his bed. "You've been in your own head for a while now."

Carlos looks past his own reflection - he's been standing at the vanity for far too long - to meet Jay's eyes in the mirror. "I think so?"

Jay tilts his head, but doesn't move. He waits for Carlos to continue, gives him time and space to form his own thoughts.

"I don't understand why Auradon wants me to be..." It shouldn't upset him that Auradon is okay for a boy to be like a girl, but it pisses him off that Auradon expects an omega to be like a girl. And it shouldn't piss him off either because Carlos has never cared what Auradon thought of him, never cared what anyone thought of him, not anyone who wasn't Jay or Evie or Mal.

But Jay understands the words Carlos can't say. "Ah, like how Fairy Godmother keeps trying to tell me that long hair isn't appropriate for a boy?" He smirks because of course Jay isn't bothered by disapproval from authority, he thrives on it.

"It's not being a boy, it's..."

"Being an omega?"

Carlos finally pulls away from the vanity and collapses into bed next to Jay. "Their open-mindedness is really just another form of closed-mindedness. How can I argue that an omegas shouldn't be feminized without saying boys shouldn't be allowed to be feminine?"

Jay nuzzles his shoulder. "That's a big question that I don't have an answer to, C."

"It's not your job to have a solution," Carlos sighs and nuzzles right back into Jay's chest. "I just want to be me, you know?" He wants to be Carlos, who likes fashion because he just does, who likes mechanical engineering because he just does, who likes dance because he just does.

"So then be you."

Which is such simple advice and if Carlos could do that, he would already be doing that!

Jay seems to since his irritation with that answer because he huffs. "Fuck them. People give me shit for being an alpha and a boy with long hair and earrings and fucked up nail polish." Jay flexes his fingers in front of them chipped red polish that Evie did just yesterday. "There are so many things Auradon hates about us, we really can't fix all of them."

It's so much easier said than done though, especially with so much of Auradon expecting him to be the random things they say an omega should be.

His silence prompts Jay to continue. "You know I talk about you at R.O.A.R. practice sometimes, to younger Freshmen omegas, guys and girls who are worried people will give them shit for playing such a rough sport."

Carlos blinks at him. He doesn't understand how he would ever come up at R.O.A.R. practice since he quit last year.

"I tell them that you're an omega and you played for a year and that you did tourney for a year."

"Only because you were there."

"Dude, you helped score so many goals in tourney though. You were faster than half the players, you set up so many shots." Jay flicks his ear. "I tell them about how much ass you kicked, then Lonnie tells them you stayed as long as you did just to give a metaphorical middle finger to anyone who said you shouldn't. It makes them feel better, C. Like they're not weirdos for wanting to play sports."

"Are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No way, I never lie about R.O.A.R." Jay says soberly. "Or to you. I never lie to you."

Carlos punches his chest and Jay punches right back, not treating him like he's some delicate creature who needs to be handled with care.

"I know it's not a solution, but this fuck all attitude you have, that we all have, I think it's helping some of the kids here. Think of all those baby faced omegas who will look at you and want to be like you."

Carlos flushes. No one has ever wanted to be like him.

"Just be you, dude. Everyone will think you're just as cool as I do."

---

Ahhh, I'm so rusty!! I have to work on re-learning their voices. I think the discussion of gender norms is too complicated to be explored in a one-shot, especially when used in an ABO setting, but I hope I did it some justice.

[sadiecoocoo]

Rick and Morty Headcannon- 10

You guys get a small surprise this time… this Headcannon isn’t as much abt Morty Prime or Evil Morty… it’s about (drum roll plz)… Morticia!

Let me get this out here, she’s gonna be bad ass. She and her Rick(?) focus on adventures that have a bit more to do with stealing stuff, rather than finding all sorts of trinkets and power sources like C-137 and a lot of the others. Ig you could say that her rick(seriously what does that rock go by? Or is it just Morticia that got gender swapped?) is a bit more noble and feels a bit of remorse. They’re kinda like the rock and morty equivalent of Robin Hood!

Morticia has been useful on any adventures with the other Morty’s but doesn’t go on many because a lot of the Morty’s try to hit on her or are generally rlly awkward around her which makes her fairly uncomfortable. But A few of the Morty’s that r rlly only into guys are basically fine (ei Miami, lizard morty, slick, genius, Eve/Mal and our morty. Tho a lot of them are bisexual, like our morty and slick).

Miami flirts with her as a joke, and they both know that, they’re pretty good besties! I like to think that they paint each others nails and go shopping together, sometimes dragging Morty prime along with them (and maybe Eve/Mal if they’re lucky)

Our morty and Morticia often try to give each other relationship advice, and comfort the other when needed. So between them they’re more like siblings (sry summer but you kinda suck at feelings, morty still loves you tho!)

But back to some of the morty adventures, Morticia is still pretty bad ass. She can pick locks and make simple gadgets to help with small stuff.

I like to think of a situation where the group is trying to get through a locked door and some of the Morty’s are kicking, blasting, and running at it. Then Morticia will roll her eyes and push them aside, pulling a Bobby pin from her hair. And she’ll be able to pick the lock within minutes if starting lol

[lsleofthelost]

What are your honest thoughts on the book kids? Both vk and ak?

i’m gonna be so honest with you it’s been a while since i reread the books. (what’s kinda adjacent is that i wish the books, the movies and the animated stuff was more cohesive with each other but i understand that they never planned on it being such a big franchise)

let me cut it here bc it got so long, i was very into it

i most vividly remember the first one, the prequel, and i dont think we see any kids that aren't in the movies, other than mentions. though i think Audrey in it is great, like her brittle handle on being the Perfect Auradon Princess and her huge desire to just sweep all unseemly things under the rug and like almost forceful insistence that everything is fine and great and all that exists is the softness and beauty in Auradon, down to her ignoring animals that aren't cute, ones that dont coo and cuddle. but when Ben pushes her she's intense and angry and almost scary.

the second book, return to the isle of the lost, introduces fun vks and mainly just name drops some aks:

i really like Mad Maddy, i like the thought that she and Mal were besties as kids, as close as sisters, twins even. and the fact that something happened between them that made Mal dye her hair, which she still does all these years later. i also think it's fun that her and Evie immediately dislike each other upon meeting. and i like that she's never 'redeemed', she's bitter and angry and scheming. and not bitter like Uma is, who wants more and better for herself and others, but deep in 'evil over everything' bitter, she leans into it and wants worse for everyone else.

Anthony Tremaine is so cunty. like i know we never get a visual of him but i know he was serving. he was comitted to his noble aesthetic and his bored drawl. i also liked that in the books there were a lot of cousins, i think it could be fun to have like a gang of them with maybe other nobles from their country (though obvi they wouldn't refer to themselves as a gang, they're too self-important and 'above it all'). i don't remember him doing anything super important other than supporting Maddy, which makes me think he's like a passive guy re: Isle situation, just choosing whatever he thinks is going to benefit him (and by extension, Tremaines) the most. in my fics, he and the Tremaines usually are adjacent Mal's gang through Dizzy's connection to Evie, just as like gratitude for watching out for her.

Ginny Gothel is great too, i don't know why i don't use her more, i really should. she was kinda friendly with Mal in the first book, not like they run together but more like they don't really have anything against each other and in social situations they talk and drink together. i love that she stole stuff from Maleficent's apartment it's fun. she very much gives me narcissit's daughter, who internilises it all and tries to imitate her mother. i think she would probably be very competetive, especially with Evie (overall, i think they have a potential for an interesting dynamic... a lot can be said but i don't wanna get too sidetracked, send me an ask if it's interesting to u)

Yzla doesn't do much except attend the Anti-Heroes club which i took as a green light to pretty much create my oc. i still think it's kinda dumb for Yzma to have a kid but eh whatever. i think Yzma wouldn't be a stereotypically bad mother, i think she's more like neglectful in a bad mood and "my kid and i are friends, im cool" in a good mood. anyway, when i do Yzla, they're nonbinary and androgynous, and a little manic, really smart, good at engineering and chemistry, so usually i make them a part of the gang and Carlos's assistant.

genuinely don't care for Hadie. like, i think the name is stupid, i think that he's Mal's half brother is stupid (since they never do anything about it), but i think there's potential to this character.

Diego de Vil is my babygirl. i have like a whole character inside my head for him because i think the potential of Carlos having a cool older cousin is just so great. if you go to my bad apples tag, you'll see more, but i created a whole band for him (and a twin!). he has a devil may care attitude and cares for Carlos but doesn't know how to express it at all.

now for the ones i don't have much to say about: Claudine Frollo has so so much potential and i've read really cool fics with her and the religious trauma she would obviously have. Harry and Jace should probably have a cool dynamic with Carlos, what with being forced to work for the de Vil family but i honestly forget they exist a lot of the time. Big Murph is friendly and helpful that is all i have to say about him (but it's interesting that he doesn't follow Uma). Eddie Balthazar and Hermie Bing just seem like they're there to fill spaces, but i'd love if someone fleshed them out. Gaston twins, i've seen good characterisation of them as following their father's footsteps and i think they are like if himbos were evil.

for the AKs of this book:

Pin, eh, not much to say except the name's dumb. Artie is a baby, but seems hot-headed in that heroic way. Herkie (again, dumb name) should have beef with Mal. Gordon is a little jealous, but i think he opens up a possibility of like messy family drama between the kids of the dwarves lol. i don't even wanna discuss Tiger Peony because i wish they didn't touch the indigenous characters because of the implications it has in-universe and they didn't do much with her anyway.

okay, now onto the rise of the isle of the lost:

whew, i love that this is focused on uma. i know i personally don't talk about her a lot since i'm mostly absorbed with the rotten four, but i love her and the pirates dearly.

(re: the Hook sisters, i don't have strong opinions on them, just thathc that's canon to me, they're all from different mothers)

Jonas is one of the people who has a confirmed appearence and the same actor was in the rotten to the core sequence, so i choose to believe it's the same guy. in my head, he used to be a vendor at the market, bored and tired of having to protect his stand, which is why he eagerly joins Uma.

i don't remember much of the personalities of other crew members, if they were given any, but i've read great Uma-centric stuff that fleshed them out greatly and really made me care about them.

for the aks, this is the first time we meet Lonnie's older brother. i don't wanna even type out the hate crime of a name they gave him. but overall, i think it's funny that Lonnie's a little sister, explains why she want to rebel and is always in everyone's business lol. for him personally, afaik he's not that much older than the main cast and i think the fact that him and Jay are friends so fun.

for Arabella, it's never revealed who her parents are but if we base it on the live action, i'd say her mum is Perla, she's said to be charismatic and diplomatic, her kingdom values the arts, which are qualities i think we can see in Arabella. i think it has interesting implications that she can go between land and sea as she wishes, especially if we take into account that magic is practically forbidden. is she an exception? also this is the second time an ak causes a uhhh hardship? in their desperation. Jane in d1, to change herself to fit into the judgemental social world of Auradon nobility, and Arabella here to prove that she's capabel of leading. she's said to be obsessed with Evie's style and overall a huge fashion lover, which i think probably makes people call her vapid, vain, ditzy, etc and why she wants to prove herself so badly. honestly, i don't see her a lot and i don't think i've ever written her into any of my fics but she offers a good window into what it's like to be a royal.

i thiiink this is also where Aziz is mentioned again? but genuinely all i take for him from canon is just his name. i love him and Jordan (Laila's version): they're practically siblings, they're a little too carefree, Aziz is leading the sassy man apocalypse and Jordan takes every opportunity to humble him (lovingly), they're kind of party animals though media just calls them socialites lol

ok im gonna be real with you, i never read escape from the isle of the lost so i think that's all, i hope i didn't miss anyone!

[wolfie-queen-bri]

I wanna talk about family. Specifically, my family.

Between my bio-father, my mom, and my dad; there are 6 siblings. I'll do my best to explain, but keep in mind that I only use half and step to explain because in everyday life, we just call each other brother and sister (and sometimes not so nice names).

The oldest is my half-brother, E. He is 41 and is a very nice and laid back man. He doesn't really like our bio-father because he used to beat him.

The second oldest is my step-sister L. She is 39 and has pretty ginger hair. I get mad when she dyes her hair blonde. My Dad's oldest.

The third oldest is my step-sister A. She is 37 and a bit odd. She was born in Feb. My Dad's middle child.

The fourth oldest is my step-sister M. She is 37 but born in Oct. A is her and L's half sister by Dad. I am very proud of M, she is going to collage to be a pediatric nurse.

The fifth oldest is my blood brother, C. He is 34 and one of the funniest people you'll ever meet. My mom's first child.

I am B, and I am the baby. I am 31 and considered to be everyone's favorite. Mom's last child.

Phew, with me so far? This is where it gets a little crazy.

I have 5 older siblings and between those 5, they have 18 children. All children are written from oldest to youngest with their parent.

E has 3 daughters: Al, Au, and H.

L has 5 children, 3 boys and 2 girls: Aus, Isa, Myk, Sav, and RyJ.

A has 2 children: Ab and Ad.

M has 3 boys: Mal, Lu, and Da.

C has 5 kids, 3 boys and 2 girls: Kai, Ei, Iz, Li, and T.

I have a cat named Tear (y'all love him).

I'M NOT DONE YET THOUGH.

My niece Al (brother E's oldest), is 20 and had her first baby in March. He is my great-nephew, RyEd.

And I think A's daughter Ab is 18 or 19 and also going to have a baby.

And that is my family! Sorry for the blabbing, but I just wanted to talk about my family.

[aspenwritesstuff]

Part Two: A Warning

🪦 prev 🪦 masterlist 🪦 next (coming soon)

🪦 taglist: open! ask/comment to be added: @hipsdofangirl @mal-lunar-28

You were an enigma in and of itself to Death; wild and free, though your very presence offered tranquility and comfort. His nails dug into his palms as the thought of your light being snuffed out for good deepened the ever-growing frown on his features. You, as blissfully unaware as you were, lay still in the center of the clearing with the prettiest smile Death had ever seen plastered against your flushed cheeks. 

warnings: death, pining (but not quite understanding it), angst, fear, blood mention, being watched (affectionately?)

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: I hope you enjoy this new part of BTCT! I've been very motivated when it comes to writing lately, thanks largely in part to the readers and feedback. I'm always willing to hear opinions and ideas. Reblogs and comments feed the muse.

Weeks turned into long, drawn out months as the news of your incredible survival made its way around the village. Some were impressed, thanking the gods for sparing you and claiming it was nothing short of a miracle. Most, however, were terrified. 

Terrified of what, however, was unclear at best. Nobody had an issue stating why, specifically, they chose to keep their distance from you following the viper incident. The answers just happened to vary wildly. 

Over the months, you’d tried to find some humor in the accusations. A witch, some called you - citing your quick uptake of herbal medicine as a source of evidence whilst others would say only a demon could survive the venom of the viper. Some had said you’d made a deal with the devil, others claiming you were secretly the devil yourself.

As you stared into the mirror, staring pointedly at the streak of white through your hair with swirling thoughts, you started to wonder if any of them could perchance be right. 

“Good morning, dearest,” the gentle croon of gran from the doorway stopped you from further entertaining the thought, pulling your gaze from the mirror to send her an affectionate smile, “Are you ready to go to the garden?”

You nodded as you stood from your seat at the vanity, slipping on a flat pair of shoes before joining her at the door. Gran had insisted since the incident on accompanying you when you doted on your plants, concerned that she may not make it in time to save you should another near-tragedy occur. 

You wanted to be annoyed with her, but instead found yourself filled to the brim with adoration for the wrinkled face grinning up at you. It had only been the two of you since you were born - your father passing in the war whilst your mother carried you, your mother passing as soon as you entered into this world. Gran was the only relative who would take you in, the rest claiming you were a cursed child - destined to bring nothing but tragedy.

Never once had she made you feel like anything less than a blessing, rarely using your name in favor of genuine terms of affection. She taught you to walk, to talk, and was largely responsible for your passion for plants - buying you a book on medicinal flowers after you’d asked her about the rose bushes outside of your cabin, single-handedly nurturing your talent for herbology.

Gran met you at the front door, handing you the wicker basket she’d woven for you with a near-closed eye smile. She was nervous, and you could tell in spite of her pleasant demeanor. She’d constantly been on edge, pampering you more than the typical spoilings of a grandmother for months now. Tea served in bed, bringing home your favorite things, buying a book you’d mentioned in passing. Gran thought she was sneaky, but you had already caught on to the theme of each of these “favors”: ensuring that you were never alone. 

She followed you out of the cabin, closing the door gently behind her as she took in a deep inhale of the ever-warming summer air. It was a good thing you’d come out as early as you had this morning, before the sun became unbearable. The path to the garden was your favorite place to be; an extending curve of mismatched cobblestone, dandelions stubbornly growing through the cracks, and two towering cypress trees shading it in it’s entirety, marking the end of the path and the start of the garden. 

You were always captivated with the trees, their gargantuan size feeling almost otherworldly as you’d walk beneath their branches. Ancient things, they were, towering above even those other trees that had been here since before Gran’s time. The breeze carried their fresh conifer sent to your nostrils, nostalgic and soothing, as you knelt down to the plants growing unencumbered in the generous shade. 

Gran took her typical perch on the bench, overseeing you from above the pages of her most recently purchased novel, glasses hanging precariously from the tip of her nose as she peered through them. You could see her eyes squinting, struggling to make out the small font even with the assistance her bifocals provided. A fond warmth spread in your chest at the sight, any lingering agitation with her hovering erased as you returned to the flowers. 

In the heat of the summer, your garden looked much different than it had on the day of the viper incident; chamomile and lavender having yet to blossom, instead overtaken by St. John’s Wort and Lady’s Bedstraw instead filled the garden with cheerful yellow blooms. The sun was barely peeking from behind the clouds, flushing your skin pink as your body warmed beneath it. 

You plucked a few fully-blossomed bits from the edges of a stem with a gentle smile, proud of the fruits of your labor as you placed them into a small glass jar in your basket. They had plenty of growing left to do before the seasons changed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to take full chunks from the plant before it had lived as long as it possibly could. You breathed out a laugh as you thought about the irony of that, living as long as one could. If Gran hadn’t been as quick-minded as she had you, too, would’ve been plucked before your time. 

You moved quickly throughout the garden, finding it much less appealing to take your time with company. You knew gran would happily sit through however long it took you to tend the plants, but it still felt wrong to make such an old woman wait on your for hours on end. A few jars filled and many weeds pulled, you called out to pull her attention from the book in her lap.

Only to see that she was sound asleep, head lolled forward and glasses strewn haphazardly into the pages of the book where they’d undoubtedly fallen from her nose. You sighed and shook your head, knowing that tiredness like this came with age but never quite grasping just how quickly it could take hold. There was no harm in leaving her be, the shade keeping her skin from the sun’s angry rays whilst the air held enough warmth to keep her from falling ill. 

There was also no harm in taking advantage of the first time alone you’d had in months, right?

From behind the massive trunk of one of the trees you so adored, a pair of sharp eyes followed your movements. He watched carefully as you tiptoed through the plants, shooting a glance towards your sleeping guardian before taking off down the path. You’d shuddered as you passed him by, unaware as you may have been of his presence, Death had a certain way of giving even the most hardened of men a chill. 

He waited to follow until you were further down the path, braided hair swaying against the peach tones of the dress you wore that day hypnotizing him as he continued his steps forward. You’d begun to hum again, that same song you’d had on your lips the day he spared your life. That same song he’d had stuck in his head, replaying in your gentle voice on an endless loop. That same song he’d found himself trying to replicate, getting caught murmuring the words by the other gods - much to his embarrassment - on several occasions. 

Nothing, however, could beat hearing it come from you once more. 

He stifled a laugh as he watched you peek behind you, ensuring the elderly woman hadn’t woken up to follow you, and smirked at your victorious grin as you took off towards the woods. Despite your speed, his long strides easily kept you in his sights, curiosity filling him to the brim as he took in the absolute look of freedom on your face. 

You were laughing brightly, seeming to have not a single care in the world as your ran through the overgrown brush of the forest. He found himself wanting to laugh, too, just from the sheer joy he could feel radiating from your being.

Until, that was, he remembered why he was here. 

To say the fates were unhappy was an understatement. Upon his return to the realm of the gods, he instantly found himself being chastised by the three of them - disappointment seeming foreign on their typically emotionless faces. 

“You know your duty,” they’d reminded him, not even bothering to ask why one less soul than anticipated had been delivered, “Or need we remind you?” 

“I know,” he’d replied simply, not feeling any of the guilt he’d bet they wanted him to. Even as the days passed, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret sparing your life. And now, watching how vibrantly you lived it, he was even more certain he had made the right decision.

He couldn’t tell the fates that he’d chosen to spare you because of a feeling he had, he couldn’t tell them you made him feel his heart again, he couldn’t tell them he had a longing for your happiness above his own sense of duty - which meant he had no excuse to say no when they insisted he return for your soul posthaste. 

He stalled for as long as he could, claiming he knew of a famine in the opposite direction or of a wildfire in the next city over. These weren’t lies, no, but they weren’t actually events that could warrant the postponing of your collection. It wasn’t a lie, though - simply… an exaggeration.

An exaggeration that had reached its expiration date. 

Hard lines formed in his once bemused features as he continued to follow your trek through the woods, heart sinking as you stopped exactly where he’d hoped you wouldn’t. You laughed brightly as you stared up into the sky, spinning amongst tiny white flowers and too-tall grass before falling onto your back with a sigh of relief. 

You were an enigma in and of itself to Death; wild and free, though your very presence offered tranquility and comfort. His nails dug into his palms as the thought of your light being snuffed out for good deepened the ever-growing frown on his features. You, as blissfully unaware as you were, lay still in the center of the clearing with the prettiest smile Death had ever seen plastered against your flushed cheeks. 

“What a beautiful day…”

Your voice carried on the warmth of the breeze, tickling the ears of your reaper. He couldn’t disagree, though you certainly hadn’t been addressing him when you spoke. Death couldn’t care less about the weather or the colors of the flowers surrounding your lounging frame - in his mind, any day would be beautiful so long as you were enjoying it, with that damned oblivious smile.

He felt an overwhelming fondness at the way you pinched a long blade of grass between your thumb and forefinger, twisting it absently at your side with your eyes fixed on the clouds above. Even as you shut your eyes, relaxing into the plush overgrowth, his mind was traveling to any option he had to spare you. Any option he had to allow you to embrace another day as you were today. 

But, despite his best efforts, you were to die in ninety seconds. 

Your consciousness had already faded, and for that Death was grateful. You, of anyone he’d met, deserved to die peacefully - clueless, asleep in a field of daisies, hopefully dreaming of far better circumstances than these. 

In an ideal world, Death imagined you’d wake up as the sun began to set. He imagined your post-sleep haze to quickly dissolve into worry as you realized your grandmother was waiting for you, likely worried sick. He imagined you running back through the woods that you knew so well, stumbling despite the familiarity as your limbs struggled to wake up as fast as your mind. He imagined you apologizing sweetly, bits of grass and twig still in your hair, to the elderly woman as she embraced you warmly. 

But in seventy-five seconds, you were to die. 

A sigh escaped your parted lips, distracting Death from his thoughts as he stared at the petal-soft plushness of your mouth. Those lips - your lips - had lived in his everyday thoughts since the day he’d resisted pressing them to his own. He watched them dry from each breath of summer air you took in, actively avoiding the ironic parallel it drew as your peace brought with it inconvenience. 

Not that chapped lips would bother you much, you were to die in sixty seconds. 

Reluctant feet carried Death silently forward, crouching down at your side to stare at your sleeping face. Cautious, as though afraid to take from any of your remaining moments, he touched the tips of his fingers to your face. Your skin burned against the chill of his touch, hitching his unnecessary breath in his throat as he watched goosebumps raise on your neck. You didn’t so much as stir at the touch, breath still coming in an even, audible rhythm.

If it wouldn’t end in forty-five seconds, Death would compose a symphony to that rhythm.

He began to wonder what you dreamt of that left your face looking so relaxed, with no worry or concern to be seen. He hoped it was incredible. He hoped you were flying over the great wonders of the world, getting to experience each and every marvel - at least subconsciously - before the end. He hoped it was mundane, smelling the aromas of the garden you loved so dearly once more before it all went dark. He hoped you felt loved, hugging your grandmother for the final time in your memories. 

That was a tall order, though, for thirty seconds. 

He cursed under his breath as he heard muffled voices growing closer from the west. A pair of hunters with no ill-intention coming towards the clearing. Why did they have to be here whilst you were? Why did the younger of the two have to be so trigger-happy? Why would he have to assume the figure in the grass was an animal he could take home and feed his family with? Why would you have to meet such an end, bloody and sudden?

With fifteen seconds remaining, Death decided you shouldn’t. 

He chose, then, to show himself to you. He chose to appear, in all of his domineering aura, to interrupt whatever projections your subconscious was allowing you to enjoy. Accepting whatever consequences may await, he replaced the whimsy of your dream with absolute darkness. 

Absolute darkness, and him.

You were afraid. 

Plunged suddenly into darkness from the formerly stunning vision of sunflowers beneath the warm glow of sunset, you shuddered. You could feel yourself sinking, disoriented as you lost all sense of direction, wondering if you were falling or floating into the abyss. 

You continued to spiral, directionless in the inky blackness surrounding you, until a frigid hand on your shoulder brought you to a sudden and jarring halt. Gulping down the dread that suddenly overcame you at the foreign touch. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to avoid whatever force was lingering behind you with an icy presence against your flesh. 

Your curiosity, however, won out against any semblance of common sense. 

As you turned, you were taken aback by the source of your fear. He didn’t look menacing - powerful, perhaps, but not menacing - with smooth, porcelain skin and a determined glint shimmering beneath deep amber pools. His hand dropped from your shoulder to his side, flowing sleeve of his ruffled black shirt seeming to shimmer with the movement. 

Your fear gave way slowly, melting away into a much gentler emotion - something akin to the concern you’d give a wounded bird, a desire to be gentle. You held your breath as he studied you, as though exhaling would be enough to frighten him away. 

Despite his overwhelming presence, your predominant thought was just how familiar his beautiful visage was. 

“Do I know you?” 

Your voice was small, as though padded by the tangible blackness surrounding the stranger before you. His gaze softened at your words, eyes flitting up towards the newfound crease in your brow before meeting your eyes once more. It felt like a sin to stare into his intense gaze for longer than a moment, but something about the way he searched your expression kept you anchored in place. 

“You do not,” he answered after a prolonged pause, the softness of his voice surprising you compared to his overwhelming presence, “Your soul, however?” his head tilted then, though his sight remained trained on you, “Knows me intimately.”

You stilled, unable to bring words from your lips as you blinked at him. It sounded outrageous when he worded it in that way, how could you have met this man before and have forgotten? Every bit of him - his sharp jaw and angular brows, the way they framed features far too delicate to carry the aura of omnipotence he radiated. Yet, here he was, boldly proclaiming the innermost parts of your being’s familiarity with him. 

“I –”

“Don’t understand, I know,” he finished for you, voice like velvet caressing your ears, “As much as I’ve longed to speak to you,” his gaze darkened then before he continued in a soft voice, “We do not have much time.”

“Who are you?” your voice sounded foreign to your own ears now, though you were far away from yourself - watching the conversation from afar rather than being an active participant. 

“I’m inclined to believe that you know,” he chuckled, though the sound itself was humorless and dark. His gaze flicked to the side of your head, at which the strand of white hung haphazardly from your braid, before meeting your expectant gaze with the same intense stare he’d worn since his appearance.

“I…think you’re right,” you agreed easily, trusting in the familiarity of his presence despite how vague an answer he provided. He simply hummed and watched as you mulled over his words, smirking a bit as your face crinkled in confusion.

“Would it help if I had a name?” he pressed, eager to get on with his attempt to lead you out of harm’s way. He didn’t have much time, though it passed much more slowly in your dreams. As you nodded, he finally allowed his smile to reach his eyes, “You can call me Minho.”

“Minho…” you echoed, mirroring the grin he sent your way - though yours was filled with more uncertainty than amusement.

“Now, please, listen,” though he was giving an order, you didn’t feel the typical urge to ask him who exactly he was to tell you what to do - instead, you found yourself anxiously awaiting further instruction.

His tone, despite how gentle he was being, left no room for argument as he reached a hand towards your cheek - stopping just short of touching you, shoulders sinking in defeat as he placed his hand back to his side.

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed at the sudden loss of proximity, though his next words brought a much bigger concern into perspective. 

“When you wake up, you will have ten seconds to stand up and be visible - sing, scream, do something an animal cannot,” he urged, nothing but sincere concern to be seen anywhere in his eyes, “There are hunters coming. They will think you’re a sleeping animal, hidden in the grass.”

Your heart sank. What was supposed to be harmless fun had brought you into the path of danger once more. Regret, fear, perhaps even disbelief overwhelmed you as tears sprang to your eyes, “Will I die..?”

Death winced at the display of emotion, feeling his chest ache to have been the one to pull you from innocent joy. 

“Yes,” he answered, reaching a hesitant hand out again. This time, though, he didn’t halt himself. He brushed the pad of this thumb, gentle in spite of it’s coldness, across your cheek - sweeping away a tear rolling down your cheek, “Not today, though. Right?”

You swallowed and nodded, feeling heat prickle in your cheeks despite the temperature of his hands. His touch lingered, your frenzied heart welcoming the comfort despite feeling ever-so confused by the trust you innately held for a relative stranger. 

You leaned into his palm, looking up at him through watering eyes. You could’ve sworn you heard him gasp, though he’d regained composure quickly enough that you’d believe it was your imagination. 

“Go now,” he ordered, pulling his hand away from your face as though it were a live wire, “Remember, show yourself. Ten seconds. Go.”

And you did.

Your eyes sprang open as you immediately scrambled to your feet, the sound of sticks and leaves crunching under boots growing closer. Two silhouettes, armed with muskets entered the clearing. Minho was right, hunters were coming. 

You called out to them urgently, just a simple, “Hello.”

But that was enough. 

The older of the two men reached out to his side, pointing the barrel of the younger’s gun towards the ground right before he fired.

“You idiot!” The elder scolded as the color drained from the other’s face - frantic eyes meeting your own as the realization of what he almost shot became clearer. 

You’d almost died. Again. 

And although you hadn’t the slightest clue about his involvement before now, Death had spared you. Again.

Death watched from the trees, heaving a sigh of relief as he watched you take off towards your cabin - ignoring the desperate apologies from the men behind you as you made it your mission to make it home - alive. 

He followed you there, worried that the fates would catch on and send more misfortune your way. They hadn’t, and you arrived home - scolded by your grandmother, but safe. Breathing. Warm. 

As you lay in bed that night, you couldn’t shake the sensation of a watchful eye gone unseen. You were slightly unnerved, wondering if you’d simply imagined the happenings in the meadow - or if you truly were visited by a kindhearted reaper, sparing your life without regard for himself. 

“Thank you, Minho,” you whispered, drifting into sleep after proclaiming gratitude to the stagnant air. You felt crazy, thanking someone who may or may not be real. You’d feel crazier, however, if you claimed it was all just a fortunate warning from your subconscious. 

“You did well, sweet soul…” he whispered back, unheard by your dozing frame, before returning to whence he came - the wrath of the fates being an easy weight to carry when compared to taking your life.

Folks liked to claim that Death was an inescapable thing; but you knew that Death wasn’t a thing at all. He was a man with a gentle touch, showing you the way to weasel out of his very clutches whilst wiping away your tears. 

Death was not to be feared.

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 I couldn't help it

Warnings: mentions of r*pe, abuse (physical and mental), strict mother,, panic attacks

Summary: alastir what's t. Know more about his wonderful girlfriend.

Alastor gasped as he was brought back to the present, his Lilly baking something in the kitchen.

He couldn't believe what he saw... it... it was horrifying.... the image of his beloved getting violated like that..... no wonder she had killed herself.....

Through Alastor's own panic, he decided he wanted to see more of her past. She was still a puzzle to him, and he would put the pieces together.

Chanting the spell again alastor was hurdled through time into the same apartment he had seen last time. Only this time it looked.. cleaner.. newer.. more like a home somehow.

And then he heard screaming.

He followed the sound into the bedroom like last time, scared of what was happening, only to be confronted with a sight that actually made him proud.

"You need to pay your half of the bills Jason! This is bullshit! You have a job!" Lilly shouted as she held a paper in her hands.

"Oh my god.... fucking christ, Lillian, so do you! Don't be such a bitch! You have money saved up too!" Jason argued.

"FOR COLLEGE! I wanna go to college! You know that Jason!" Lilly screamed.

"College?! Seriously?! You're so SELFISH!" Jason shouted.

Alastor growled before looking at the spell, performing it again.

And just like that he was hurdled deeper through time.

He was stopped inside of a little house. Maybe a two bedroom.

He walked throughout only to stop when the front door opened and a young Lilly walked inside.

"Dad? I'm home!" She called out as she took the key out of the lock and plopped it into the glass key holder by the door.

"Hey sweet pea!" A grown man's voice came from the kitchen. "How was school?" He asked as he walked up to his daughter.

Alastor chuckled to himself. They looked alike. They were definitely related.

"There was a caterpillar on the tree in the courtyard that Mal and I found, but Jessica Jacobs came in and killed it," Lilly stated as she set up her schoolwork on the dining table.

"Wasn't she that mean little girl who would always push you off the swings?" Her dad asked as he sat next her his daughter.

"Yep.... where's Mom?" She asked as she got to her homework.

"Picking up your brother.... she saw your grades today," he muttered.

Lilly paused.

"Oh," She stated.

"You gotta get that C up...." He replied.

".... the assignment that's causing it is a one and done deal.. I physically can't, dad..... I can't redo the assignment......" Lilly muttered.

Alastor raised an eyebrow before coming to sit next to Lilly.

"Why on earth would a C matter for anything?" Alastor asked himself.

His head turned sharply to the front door when he heard it slam open.

"Hey Gabe," Lilly muttered as her brother walked in and sat in another chair, not making eye contact before leaning in to whisper to his sister.

"Shes pissed..... the whole drive was just her talking about it...." He whispered.

Lilly sighed and gave her brother some headphones so he could drown it out.

"Sorry for borrowing them," she whispered.

Alastor smiled. She did really have a wonderful relationship with her brother.... but his smile faded a bit when Lilly's mother came into view.

"A 'C'?! ARE YOU SERIOUS LILLIAN?!" She shouted.

Lilly shrunk in on herself, her hair covering her face.

"Oh don't you shut me out, you little shit-" Deborah scolded as she walked over and yanked Lilly up by her shoulders.

Charles, Lilly's dad, Stood up, as did alastor, alarm growing on his face.

"Deborah, stop this," Charles warned.

Completely ignoring her husband, Deborah shook her daughter by the shoulders.

"STUPID GIRL. I TAUGHT YOU BETTER. YOU ARE A DISAPPOINTMENT TO THIS FAMILY!" She shouted.

Alastor moved to stop what was happening with no use.

"Mami please.... You're hurting me... Lo siento... por favor. estas hiriendome," Lilly whispered as tears pricked at her eyes.

Deborah scoffed and shoved her back into the chair.

"Your Spanish is weak, my little butterfly. Work on that too.... you should be more like your brother," Deborah stated before briskly walking away into her room.

".... I'll have a talk with your mother, bug.... everything is gonna be fine. Just do your best, okay?" Charles spoke gently, kissing Lilly on the head before walking away.

Alastor sat back down, silence covering the air as Lilly continued to zone out.

He knew this well... it was a silent panic attack... she still had those.. often when she thought about her mother... now he knew why....

That's when he heard Gabriel speak up.

"... you okay?" He asked.

Lilly didn't move.

Gabriel sighed and moved so his chair was right next to her, bringing her into a hug gently.

"Mom just..... doesn't know how to parent. Duh." He tried making a joke to no avail. "... you wanna call Mal?" He asked.

"No.... She'd just get angry at mom... and I really don't want anymore yelling today....." Lilly muttered.

Alastor took a breath in... so that's why she doesn't like yelling. And that's why she shuts down when being yelled at....

"Does Mal even know that mom does that?" Gabe asked as he separated from the hug.

".. fuck no.... I tell her mom yells but... that's it," Lilly replied.

Gabriel sighed.

Alastor raised an eyebrow.

Before he could see anything else, the spell ended and he was trusted back to his original time.

"Oh, hey Al! I made Brazo Gitano if you want some. It's my Mom's special recipe," Aponi stated as she set them on the counter.

".. your mother?" Alastor asked.

"Yeah.. I um... I invited her over for dinner..." Aponi stated with a nervous smile.

Uh oh

[isleofdarkness]

What infuriates you most about Descendants? From the plots to characters (from the books and movies)

"You're telling me we're stuck like this until Lagoona fixes some freaky flaw? Which one?! She has so many!" - Toralei Stripe, Great Scarrier Reef

Now you might be wondering how a Monster High quote relates to my answer, but that's how I felt. How could I name only one thing that infuriates me? All of them infuriate me in equal amounts. That's why it took me a while to answer this, because I was debating. Until I realized that most of my grievences fell under one thing;

The lack of any genuine thought and effort being put in.

We have the lack of continuity, how the books struggle to match up with the movies while nothing from the books is ever mentioned in the movies. The really interesting characters from the books and/or the really interesting dynamics they could present, we see none of them.

We have the racism. Li Liang and Li Susu have a German and *supremely* disrespectful and unlucky name respectively. The misogynoir, how they treated Uma, Celia, Audrey, and Freddie. Celia wasn't even bad, she was mischievous bordering on a bit naughty, but they treated her like she was a Villain villain. Uma was right and I will die on this hill. Audrey was humiliated, cheated on, and spelled into doing something she didn't want to. Freddie was actually better behaved than Mal, like sheesh. Queen Leah being the "old, bitter bitch" when she was traumatized and had every right to react as she did in the first movie (while Aurora, the good one, was white with a black mom and biracial daughter.) Ursula being nasty. Cruella being "crazy." There are probably more but I've forgotten them. Carlos, moving off of misogynoir, was treated like a baby. Facilier and Coach were the only two genuinely okay black people in the movies, and they said maybe three lines each and got two seconds of screen time. An Indigenous actor playing an Arabian man. Evie being Latina never being discussed (aside from her possibly falling into the spicy Latina trope in the first movie and book.) It was just so racist, like wow. I could do better even without research, and I hope to do a lot better with a lot of research Disney should have done.

It's not realistic. Jafar tried to rape a fifteen-year-old girl, the same age as his son. Claude tried to rape a sixteen-year-old, who could be the same age as his daughter for all we know. There are children on an Isle of rapists and murderers and people who torture others just for the hell of it, but Disney does not acknowledge how the three of them probably encountered someone who went through it, if not them going through it (Jafar totally would, just saying,) once. No food insecurity, no PTSD (let alone C-PTSD,) no kleptophobia, nothing showing the trauma and constant state of survival they lived in for their entire lives.

The villains are not the Villains. They are cartoony even by Disney standards. Evil Queen would have tried to carve out Evie's heart at least once (she did in mine.) Hades would never cheat on his wife (I headcanon that Maleficent did a love spell.) Hell, most of them wouldn't have survived childhood because their parents are Villains.

How did the wild magic never leak onto the Isle?

Mal has a half-brother. Why was that never bought up?

Why is everyone speaking in such heavy Ebonics at times?

Why did Li Liang have cornrows in the second movie? Her hair doesn't need protective styles like that and she's probably damaging it, on top of it just being not good.

The fucking names. Hadie. Harriet and Harry. Jay and Jade. Claudine. LeFou Deux. The Gastons I give a pass for because Gaston would really be Like That. Yzla. Disney, c'mon.

I already touched on this but where did Mad Maddy and her crew go? Where's Anxelin? And Li Susu? Hadie? Jade and Diego? Freddie and CJ? Where did they go? What did you do to them, Mal?

Mal drugged her boyfriend and I'm one of those people who counts nonconsensual kissing as SA, so she SA'ed him. This is never bought up even though holy shit, that's problematic.

Uma, Audrey, and Maddy had every right to hate Mal. Celia had every right to drop the Ember into a bird bath.

Mal tried to hurt and kill Evie.

Jafar hit Jay at least once in the books. Maleficent ignored Mal until she wanted to exploit her. Evie was starved and forced to reduce herself to a walking cunt to please her mother. A slave in ancient Rome would have been on a pleasure cruise for what Carlos was going through. But they are all dying to see their parents. Make it make sense, Disney. I would kill the person who hurt me *once* if I had half the chance, so why are they sprinting down the bridge to see their parents?

Bringing the Barrier down was a shit idea and Auradon is doomed, Disney. Maleficent was ready to enslave everyone and now she's free? C'mon.

Kids died on the Isle. Unless the Barrier keeps the kids alive. Either way, should probably mention that because some of these people would kill their kids.

Honestly, to keep from ranting for five more pages, there would be so much fucked up shit going on on the Isle and Disney makes it seem like there was just a touch of mischief going on there.

Mal is not a good protag and should not have been marketed as such.

Snow White would never insult Evie's styles like that. Cinderella would never raise her son like that. Alice would never raise her daughter like that.

Beast was legit doing a quiet genocide on the Isle, at least on the children.

How's the Underworld running without Hades? Is Thanatos doing it? He get bumped from guy with one job to managing the hardest domain to manage? What about Persephone? What's she doing? Auradon seems to be in constant spring so it looks like she doesn't get to manage the Underworld.

Gods are inherently magical being and no Barrier, no one (possibly Hecate herself, but we never hear about her,) could stop them from doing magic.

Fae and djinni are inherently magic. Cecaelias (and I'm betting mermaids) need to be born underwater. Nothing can take the magic out of the ocean. How did they prevent that, Disney? Tell me.

And-

I think I've ranted for long enough. There's so many plot holes that I can't even strain pasta through it because the pasta would fall out. There's so much disrespect for other cultures that I can't even think of an analogy. There's so little creativity that I was writing better stories before I knew how to write. Descendants is a spite project made to put EAH out of business and sell dolls and it shows. Disney, do better.

"Sometimes fanfiction is a love letter to canon. Sometimes it's ninety-five things canon has done wrong nailed to canon's door." And mine is definitely the latter.

[arickaandherfictionalothers]

Harry is MY boyfriend; you don’t tell me who to love-!

(Part two)

(Aricka x Harry Hook. Aricka and the Hero Kids. Aricka and the Isle Kids. Aricka and Chad Charming.)

(The aftermath.)

(Note: in my Descendants canon Emma Swan is the teen daughter of Snow and David Charming, of the White Kingdom. Killian is the son of Will and Elizabeth Turner. )

Evie, Aricka and Harry stumbled into the room the Charming twins shared together (their mother had payed the school to allow them to be in the same dorm), and Mal magically locked the door behind them. Aricka was pulled onto her bed, which currently housed Chad, Uma, Gil, Aziz, and also now herself and Harry.

Harry pushed her so she was leaning against her twin; and he surprised everyone (excluding herself and Uma) by laying his head down on her shoulder, arms wound tightly as possible around her middle. She busied herself by running her fingers through his too perfectly gelled hair, mussing it up back to his usual style, noting that Chad was undoing her own perfect French braids- all twelve of them, symbolizing the hour her mother ran down the palace steps when she was still just a scullery maid- and detangling every knot and snarl he came across with a gentle hand.

Mal and Evie were warding the room, while Ben and Jay and Doug were discussing how to keep everyone in the room safe until the noise died down. Uma was doing the opposite of Chad and was braiding Gil’s hair, the golden curls easily manageable and braidable it seemed. Aziz was texting furiously- probably letting his awesome protective parents know that he and his friends and cousins were okay and all in one place.

Carlos, Lonnie, Audrey, Jane L, Jane C, Emma, and Killian were all on Chad’s bed, Carlos being wedged between Jane LaFae and Audrey, both girls asking if he was alright and seeming very protective of him.

Aricka’s stomach churned and she felt like she might cry. She was suddenly aware of a presence in front of her and she looked up to see Azalea hovering nearby, a worried look on xeir face. The look was enough to make her face crumble and the first few tears fall down her cheeks. “Oh- oh no,” she mumbled, “my- my makeup- it’s- I’m- oh no-!”

Harry immediately sat up, hands coming up to cup her face, thumbs wiping away the salty water slipping from her eyelids, as her shoulders began to shake. “Love, you’re not tainted, not dirty. Crying is natural and healthy and your body needs this release to move forward. Just let it happen. You’re safe here; everyone here loves you.”

“But my mascara- my eyeshadow- I’m dirty, Harry. Unclean. Gross….”

“You are absolutely not gross,” Evie says, tugging one of Aricka’s hands from Harry’s grip, “I cry all the time, am I dirty? Or unclean?”

“N-no-!” Aricka cried, face pale and eyes red rimmed. “Evie you’re beautiful and lovely and smart and kind and-!”

“Then so are you. Purely because you are an Auradon girl who never stops trying to be better and to understand.”

“I can’t- Chad- she said- she said-!”

“I got this,” Chad says, “excuse me a sec Harry.” The pirate moved over so Chad could take his spot. “Hey sis-a-roo. Sis. Sissy. Twinny. Look at me. I’m right there with you. I don’t think what our mother taught us was right. If we were gonna be rejected the second we showed a flaw or imperfection everyone would’ve already left but look up.” She shook her head. “Ariellllllll….” He sang. “Come on tiny. Teeny. Itsy-bitsy…. Starburst?” Nothing. “Butterfingers?” The name got her to finally look up at Chad only. “Look around us. Please?”

She glances around the room to see what Chad saw-

Everyone was still there. Watching her, granted, and yes that was humiliating all in itself but they-

They didn’t think she was loathsome for having runny makeup and nose. For having a torn skirt. For having a bright red slap imprint on her cheek.

“Chad…” she whispered. “You- they- I don’t understand-?”

“Oh, evil,” Mal says, “of course you knew how to comfort us about our crappy parents; you’ve got a crappy mom.” The purple haired demigoddess Fae suddenly marched over and wrapped the pale-blonde princess in a protective but careful embrace, “my mom used to do the same thing- act all flowery and sweet one minute and the next she was pulling the rug from underneath me.” Aricka was shaking again, face pressed firmly against Mal’s light purple jacket. “You’re une princesse guerrière, and I am going to be your fée protectrice.”

Aricka gulps and whispers, “You are ma reine des fées, Mal. Have been for a while. Ma reine dragon, as well.”

“She’s right about that, min modige kriger,” Uma says, wrapping herself around Chad, “while your perfect parents tried to take our voices- while my mother stole voices- Aricka, you GAVE us your voice. Gave us A voice. You spoke for us when we couldn’t or risk being sent back to the Isle.”

“U-Uma, I wish you had been born here; safe, wish we could’ve all been friends from the beginning,” Aricka croaked; and then Uma was hugging her, saying,

“That’s why you were our first chosen friend here. You never once saw us as different, you saw us as friends you just hadn’t truly met yet. You saw us as equals. You explained to us how you worked, how life here worked.”

“She’s right, meine Kriegerprinzessin,” Evie said, adding to everyone calling Aricka a warrior princess. “We chose you.”

“Since the moment we met you’ve been my compass, my treasure, mo chridhe, love, nobody is replacing you.”

“Chad; we didn’t forget you, you’re every bit as dear as your twin. You both helped us in different ways.” Then CHAD was crying and Aricka gripped her brother and then every VK and Hero Kid was in a giant cuddle heap.

“I- I can’t believe she hit me,” Aricka whispers. “She’s never hit me before-,”

“And if she knows what’s good for her she never will again,” Jay said, affirmed by Azalea.

“I’m going to make protection bracelets for you and Chad; if she tries anything you’ll just have to activate the beam and we can teleport to you or vice versa,” Mal swore.

“Same here princess, you and all the hero kids, you’re all getting some form of a protection charm,” Uma adds.

“I want one for Aricka Page,” Seb White suddenly spoke up. “She can handle herself but- it would make me feel better. Knowing we can find each other.”

“We can make that happen,” Azalea assured. “Everyone in this room has done so much to help us it’s the least we can do.”

“Indeed,” Evie says. “I will make sure that all of you get something of ours to ensure everyone knows you’re under our protection.”

“Hey-um-princess Aricka-?” Gil. Aricka wiggled up so she could see the blond pirate. “Those things you said back there- did you really mean that?”

Aricka and Chad don’t even glance at each other as they both move over to Gil, moving as two parts of the same brain almost. Aricka slowly reaches for Gil and then when he didn’t flinch or move away she wrapped her arms carefully around him, Chad doing the same. “Gilly…” she says. “You are the sunshine of this group. We need sunshine to thrive. We all love and need you, Sunny. Don’t doubt your place here. You try so hard; and you’re so Good. You just absorb everything good like a sponge, and you smile at the smallest pleasures. I’m proud to call you my friend. My sunshine. My Gil.”

“And you’re super strong and athletic,” Chad adds. “You’re going to be one of the best graduating Tourney players in Auradon. And one of the best swords and shields players. I bet you could even learn to be a super amazing chef, with all the recipes you’ve been working on.”

By now the “sunshine” of the group was crying too, and Aricka sent Uma a panicked apologetic glance, only for the teal-haired pirate to wave her on. “It’s okay Gil, they mean it,” Uma asserts. “Aricka and Chad only say what they mean. If they say you’re sunshine, they’re just affirming what we all think and know.”

“Oh wow…” Gilly said, glancing at the twin royals who looked so much like him- Aricka with her light blue eyes and pale blonde hair; Chad with his smile and curls and the similar facial structure. “Oh, wow… you really mean it- you meant it all-,”

Aricka was about to speak and assure him when the door opened-

And her dad walked in,

Then everything went chaotic once again.

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

@astralshipper @rosieshipper @hyperionshipping @yeehawselfshipping @letsgofoletsgo @tsundere-selfship @sappy-secrets @rosepetalcharm @mariposalass

[sky-fire-forever]

happy Friday and welcome to DADWC! for Hawke/Anders, how about "it appears that you have mistaken my dislike of causing harm as an inability to do so." for a prompt?

Thank you so much for the prompt!

My Hawke in this is Mal, who uses he/him pronouns.

In the clinic, Anders is at peace. He has something to focus on, something that consumes every aspect of his attention so he can get lost in it. It's so easy for the hours to fly by while he heals the sick and the needy. 

And it feels good to help, to heal. It feels right to bury himself in his work and to get out of his head for once. When he's working, his spiraling thoughts can't catch up to him; he can't worry about all those he isn't able to save or what a monster he's become.

Hawke, however, dislikes when Anders gets lost in his work. 

“You've been in here all day,” Hawke says while Anders is cleaning up after his last patient. “When was the last time you ate?”

“That doesn't matter.” Anders waves him off easily. “I'm fine.”

Hawke grabs his arm. “No, you're not,” he says firmly, his dark eyes staring into Anders’. “At this rate, you're going to drop dead.”

Anders rolls his eyes and pulls his arm away. “I'm helping people, Mal.” 

“Help yourself for once!” Hawke snaps. “You're wasting your life healing other people and it's fucking killing you.”

Anders’ eyes narrow and he can feel Justice bubbling just under the surface. “It isn't a waste.”

How could Hawke call this a waste? After all Anders has risked to help the people of Kirkwall. The refugees and the poor and the people who have nowhere else to turn for help. What Anders does is good and Hawke dismissing it so easily makes his blood boil. 

“It is when you starve yourself and work yourself to the bone.” Hawke crosses his arms. “Come home.” His voice softens. 

Anders sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “I can't. I have more patients.”

“Let them find someone else to help them tonight.”

“There is no one else!” Anders can't take this anymore. “I'm the only one who can help these people and it's my job to do so.”

Hawke stares at him. “No, it's not.”

Anders grits his teeth. “I'll meet you at home tonight, Mal. I promise.”

He can't handle arguing with him anymore. It doesn't help and it just succeeds in upsetting them both, so Anders turns his back on Hawke to continue cleaning up. 

Before Hawke has the chance to leave, there's a pounding on the door. 

“Just a moment!” Anders calls before looking at Hawke. “I'm very busy, so please.” 

Hawke looks like he might argue, but then he sighs and shakes his head. “Fine. But we're talking about this later.”

Anders doesn't see the point in that, but if it allows him to be left alone to work, so be it. “Fine.”

He ushers him towards the door and holds it open for him. Only to be met by templars in full armor on the other side.

“Are you the Darktown healer?” One of the templars asks.

Anders’ staff is on the other side of the clinic — too far for him to reach. 

Hawke’s eyes narrow and he stands close to Anders, positioning himself in front of the mage. “Who's asking?” 

“I am,” the templar says, all authority. 

Anders looks behind the lead templar, trying to figure out what he's up against. The last thing he needs is to be outmatched in his own clinic. 

There are about five templars standing outside the door, pushing all of Anders’ patients behind them. Anders’ fingers itch and his hair stands on end just looking at them. They don't belong here, not in his place of healing and safety. 

Anders clears his throat. “I'm the healer,” he says, looking around at the templars. “If you need healing, I'm afraid you'll have to wait unless it's urgent. I have patients who have been waiting.” He gestures to the people still gathered by the door. “You can speak with Lirene at her shop in Lowtown to schedule an appointment.”

“We're not here for an appointment,” the templar says with a sneer. “There have been reports of an apostate pretending to be a healer in this clinic. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us.”

“We are not pretending,” Justice roars to life within Anders’ mind. 

The templar places his hand on Anders’ arm, but Anders pulls away. “I'm afraid I don't have the time to go anywhere with you when I have so many patients to tend to.” He steps back, farther into the clinic. 

“It wasn't optional.” The templars move around Anders, but Hawke places himself between them.

“He says he's busy,” he snarls

The templars push their way past Hawke, backing Anders into the clinic and away from the bystanders. Good. 

Anders puts his hands up. “This is a place of healing,” he says, watching Hawke out of the corner of his eye. “I would not have you ruin it.”

“They wish to ruin our sanctuary,” Justice speaks from inside Anders’ mind. “We must not allow them to poison this place with their destruction.”

“Grab the mage,” the lead templar points to Anders. “He's just a healer. He can't hurt us.”

Hawke scoffs from behind the templars. “Is that what you think?”

Anders feels Justice beneath his skin, sparking just under the surface. “It appears that you've mistaken my dislike of causing harm as an inability to do so,” he says before closing his eyes and allowing Justice to take over. 

He retreats inside of his own mind to allow Justice to do what must be done. When the haze clears, the templars are dead and Anders is exhausted. He sways on his feet as Justice leaves control and barely catches himself on a table before he falls.

“Anders!” Hawke appears by his side, reaching out two strong arms to steady him. “Are you alright?”

Anders nods even as the clinic comes in and out of focus. “I'm fine.” He can feel the blood on his skin and can see how it paints the floor. It's horribly unhygienic for a clinic. “I need to–”

“You need to come home,” Hawke says with a growl in his voice. “That fight exhausted you.��

“But the patients–”

“Can wait.” Hawke tosses Anders’ arm over his shoulders. “I'm sure Lirene or someone can handle cleaning up. I'm taking you home.”

Anders is too tired to argue, so he just nods and rests his weight on Hawke. His eyes slip shut and he allows Hawke to take him home so he can finally rest.