tizravenkatthing

[pastabaguette]

colored the little comic, since i felt like it. more doodles too. sorry that they’re in a different art style in each image. i don’t know what happened.

i’m trying to work out dialogue and how each of them talk, so sorry if it’s a bit clunky. keep in mind, though, that they aren’t supposed to be EXACTLY like the trolls’. i’m trying to make them a bit different.

[inmyheaddd]

✦ percy’s last words (almost)

summary: percy mistakes melatonin gummies for regular ones… and is convinced he has met his life’s end wc: 900

you walked into your room and nearly burst out laughing when you saw percy sprawled across your bed on his back. he was holding a dark blue bottle of something tight in his hands— maybe medicine— like it was some sort of lifeline. 

his eyes were droopy, but there was this wild panicked look in them as he stared at the ceiling, looking like he was seriously going through something.

he was blinking slowly, like even that act alone was taking up all his energy.

“percy… what’s going on?” you asked, a hint of laughter in your voice as he gave you a slow half smile.

he took his gaze towards you, his expression somewhere between dazed and happy to see you. 

“hey…” he mumbled, holding up the dark blue bottle up infront of him and squinting at it. “did you know you have these little blue gummies?” he asked. “they’re… so good.”

“what little blue gummies, perce?” you asked, as you slowly sat down on the bed next to him.

“these ones,” he responded as he turned on his side to see you, blindly waving the bottle in the air as you scooted closer.

you gently took the bottle from his hands. your eyes widening as you read the label. 

“percy,” you looked at the drowsy boy in question, “these are melatonin gummies.”

“melatonin? like— for sleep?”

you nodded slowly, eyes flickering back to the bottle that was literally empty. 

he sat up suddenly. he looked at the bottle like it had suddenly turned on him, his face slowly shifting from blissful to horrified. 

“oh gods… oh gods,” and then it started. 

“i ate a lot! a whole lot! like— the whole bottle.” 

he looked back at you with eyes wide and panicked. “am i gonna die? am i going to die? i’m going to die.” 

you tried to hold back a laugh but you failed completely. “you’re not gonna die, percy! you’re just gonna be… really really sleepy.”

he looked far too anxious for someone in a semi-comatose state. “when i said i love sleeping more than anything, i didn’t actually mean it! i don’t want to literally sleep forever.”

“wait wait wait, what’s 8 times 50?” he muttered to more himself than you, looking severely stressed. 

“8 hours of sleep, 50 gummies…” he continued murmuring panickedly, counting his fingers on his hand and his eyes narrowing as he ltried to work it out.

“okay, i was never good at math, but, i know that’s a lot of hours.” he came to his conclusion. “oh gods, i’m going to be asleep forever.”

you were 2 seconds away from falling into a fit of laughter, and you were fighting the biggest smile ever. 

“relax sleeping beauty,” you said through a laugh, “that’s not how it works. worst case scenario, you’d take a little trip the hospital. and that’s for humans, not half bloods.”

he seemed to have a million thoughts running through his mind, before he suddenly clutched your hand, his face looking more worried than ever. 

in through one ear, and right out the other. 

“—but what if i never wake up?” he swallowed thickly with his brows knitted together, looking more worried now than he ever looked fighting a literal monster.

“i don’t want to go out because of some stupid blue gummies! my last words can’t be about gummies!”

“maybe use this as a lesson, — you shouldn’t eat everything that’s blue, perce.” you teased slightly, laughing as he looked at you.

“don’t turn this on me! it’s not my fault i—“ he started to defend himself, before pausing and seemingly coming to a realization. 

 “wait… you’re not saying i’m wrong… you’re just accepting it.” he turned away from you, slowly shaking his head at the ceiling as his lips turned downwards, disappointment overtaking his features. 

“even you know i’m going to die.” 

“percy.” you said, trying to keep your voice as serious as possible, but a laugh was about to break at any second. 

“listen to me: you are not going to die. i know you are not doing to die.” 

he was in fact, not listening to you. the melatonin gummies seemed to have clouded every one of his senses.

“i really wanted my last words to be something epic, you know?” 

“oh really?” you said flatly, trying to keep a straight face. 

he was still totally panicked, but he was somehow giving you the softest, most lovesick look.

maybe feeding into this a little wouldn’t be so bad. “don’t worry, you still have some time left, why don’t you say them now?”

“i’m being serious,” he mumbled quietly, like he could see the fact that you were perceiving this as the funniest thing in the world, and not his final moment with you. 

“alright i’m sorry perce,” you responded softly, pushing back your laughter to a deeper depth than tartarus. “go ahead and tell me your epic last words, i promise i won’t laugh.” you shook your head as you pressed your lips into a line, “this is super serious.” 

his grip on your hand loosened as he started to relax, his eyelids drooping.

“okay well,” he started, content with your words now. “you’re, like… the smartest and funniest person i know. you’re really pretty, too.” he said, giving you a lopsided, lovesick smile. 

“you’re the best, kinda like a blue gummy, but… in a really good way.” he spoke— he must’ve thought he was shakespeare with that one. 

“you’d never make me so sleepy that i die. you’d never turn on me like those blue gummies.” 

he sighed sadly as he neared the end of his final monologue, letting his head rest against your shoulder as his eyes slowly shut. “you’re my favorite.”

you smiled at him as he finally lost the grand battle between him and sleep.  “you’re my favorite too, perce. i love you.”

no response, just his soft breaths, and even softer grip he had on your waist.

that now left you with a fast-asleep percy, an empty bottle of gummies, and the perfect story to annoy him with when he woke up. 

if he woke up…

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable  @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23 @hermesenthusiast

[thedemoninme141]

Wednesday got Ghosted... literally.

Never ever thought I would write Halloween specials but here I am...

Paring: Wednesday X Fem Reader! Theme: Fluff!!!

Summary: Wednesday confesses her feelings on a Halloween date.

You wanted a date for Halloween since Wednesday won't go trick or treating with you, you jumped on the offer to trek out to an old, abandoned house in the woods—a place the locals swore was haunted—with her.

And now you both sat on the wooden balcony that hung off the back of the house. Wednesday glanced at you, scrutinizing the way you stared blankly out at the woods, as if you were lost in your thoughts. You seemed quiet, too quiet.

“Do you…” she began, her voice quieter than usual. “Do you regret coming here with me tonight?”

You glanced at her, eyes slightly widened, surprised that she’d even ask. Wednesday wasn’t usually one for questioning her actions—or caring how others felt about them.

“I just thought, perhaps, you might be disappointed that I dragged you here instead of letting you do…something more festive.” She looked away, unsure if you could read the tinge of insecurity in her face.

You tilted your head, looking at her, silent as ever, which only made her feel more self-conscious. She didn’t know what to make of it. Usually, she adored the fact that you didn’t constantly babble on like everyone else did. But tonight, she wanted—no, needed—some kind of reassurance.

“If I’m being honest,” she continued, voice a bit lower, “I've wondered a lot... If I am enough for you.” She cast her gaze downward. “My feelings… they are complicated. I suppose they’re not easily expressed in ways you might expect, or—” She clenched her jaw, then forced herself to go on. “Or that you deserve.”

"Sometimes I think that you see something in me that isn’t really there," Wednesday whispered, "And I fear that one day you’ll realize you were wrong. That you’ll wake up, look at me, and think, ‘this wasn’t worth it.’" She clenched her jaw, the briefest flicker of pain crossing her face before she forced herself to look at you again, her eyes steady.

"But then you… you fascinate me," she admitted, "The way you fearlessly follow me to places like this. Most people run from me, but you… you stay. You follow. It answers all those doubts. Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

A small smile tugged at her lips, but she looked away, as though embarrassed by the thought. "I thought I'd find myself alone, somewhere like this. And I thought… perhaps I’d like that."

Wednesday paused, her hand ghosting closer to yours. "But then you came along, completely oblivious, and ruined all of that," she said, her voice softened by an edge of tenderness. "And, against my better judgment, I don’t resent you for it."

"There are things I struggle with, you know," she went on. "Emotions. They’re foreign… unwieldy. But here I am, feeling them—feeling you, in every cold, dark part of myself that used to belong to nothing and no one." She turned, and her dark gaze fixed onto you, almost vulnerable. "I don't know if I can be what you deserve, but…" She swallowed, her voice soft. "I need you to know, if I’m capable of love, you’re the only one I’d give it to."

"I don’t know why I’m saying all of this," she admitted. "I’d tell myself it’s for your benefit, but really, I think it’s for mine. To tell you things I never knew I’d feel." Her voice trailed off, and she pressed her lips together as if already regretting her words.

A long silence fell between you two, and the quiet grew deeper, the forest still and watching as if it too were waiting for your response.

Then, from behind, a voice broke the silence: "Sorry I’m late, Wends… had to fix Enid’s costume trouble… umm, who’s that?"

Wednesday felt her cold blood run colder. She turned, her gaze landing on… you. You, standing at the doorway, looking at her with your familiar, gentle eyes.

The “you” beside her shrank back slightly, lifting "your" hands in surrender, as though embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

Wednesday's gaze snaps back to the figure beside her — the “you” who had been sitting with her all this time.

Her voice hardens. “Who the hell are you?”

"Um… I wanted to haunt you after taking Y/N’s face," the ghostly you confessed, scratching the back of it's head. "But given the gravity of the situation with your emotions and all… I’ll leave you two alone." The ghost looked at Wednesday, gave a curt nod, and disappeared into the shadows with an almost sheepish wave.

Wednesday was still, her gaze now fixed on you, her surprise melting into a look that could only be described as deadly.

"…How long were you there?" you asked, stepping forward, trying to hide the amused smile on your lips. "And what did you tell the ghost?"

Wednesday’s mouth tightened, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly. "I… told the ghost," she began slowly, clearly unwilling to divulge the truth, "nothing..."

You chuckled, glancing at her with a playful grin. "So… I hope I wasn’t replaced too badly, was I?"

Wednesday let out a frustrated sigh. Perhaps she should've gone trick or treating with you.

At the Ghosts Pub: Hey guys! you won't believe what happened!

[Author's note: It was really fun to write it, Comment how you guys like it.

Request me for more one-shots!!!]

->WORKLIST<-

[judenostopwaitkeepgoing]

IkéPrince's Favorite Kinks 😈

18+ | MDNI! | IkéPrinces x Fem!Reader

CW: Some kinks are not for everyone! Mentions of (consensual!) power imbalances, bodily harm/violence, Dom/Sub dynamics, humiliation/taking advantage, mentions of cutting/blood, some slight CNC (somnophilia), (consensual) controlling behavior, mentions of fingering, p-in-v sex, and more!

AN: These are just my opinions on which kinks the princes/other Rhodolite court members would be into! Some of them are a little more on the extreme side of things! Haha! This post is for all you fellow freaks out there! Enjoy!!

Jin Grandet – Sensation Play / Sensory Deprivation (blindfolding)

Jin is a slut, it’s true, but he doesn’t strike me as the kinkiest guy in Rhodolite. However! He likes to spice things up now and again! I feel like he would get a kick out of being lightly tickled with a feather as foreplay—even better if it was happening while he was blindfolded. Anything to draw out the anticipation and tension for this guy who usually doesn’t have to work that hard at getting someone into bed with him lol. Also, imagine lightly tracing a finger or a butter knife or a feather or literally anything over those shoulder and chest muscles....? And he might even let out a little low-toned nervous chuckle...?? Yeesh. 😮‍💨

Chevalier Michel – Overstimulation/Edging

Chev loves to have the power! He loves to make you squirm! He thinks it’s hot but also it genuinely amuses him! Lol. What a monster this guy would be. He’s written in his route/canonically as having awkward, fumbling movements when it comes to romance/intimacy, but I’m sorry, I do not buy it! Sorry to you, Ikéwriters! You’re wrong! This dude is so confident it is almost scary! He would be so commanding in bed!! For real!! Like, he is perfect at everything and has read so many romance novels...??? Like he would be lethal??? Imagine him fingering you so deftly that you are about to come, and then he extracts himself from you so suddenly that your heart almost falls out of your chest, but you look up and he’s just smirking at you??? King Chev needs to unwind too okay!!

Clasvis LeLouch – Bondage

Another member of the Rhodolitian Sluts Committee! However, Clavis is a “gentleman.” He “respects” you or whatever. Haha, I actually don’t think he would be that kinky, but I do think that he knows his way around some rope lmao. He’s always setting traps! He’s bound to set a trap for you in your bedroom one of these days. And that trap would be designed in a way that some rope would happen to pull you up by your wrists, leaving you helpless and writhing like a little worm on a hook for him. What is he supposed to do? Not toy with your body and tease you until you come?? He’s so considerate though! Always just thinking about your pleasure... What’s the problem?? 😇

Leon Dompteur – Breeding Kink

Okay, don’t come for me, but I genuinely think that Leon is the least kinky of all of the princes. He’s so noble and so egalitarian that I can’t really picture him getting into sexy stuff that requires power exchanges or pain or too much tension even. There’s a world of kink beyond those things, of course, but he just reads like a sweet vanilla boyfriend to me! But! I can see him getting particularly excited by the idea of putting his babies inside you haha. He would come inside you one time and then not be able to stop thinking about the possibility of you getting pregnant—imagining your belly swelling up, your glow as you carry his child... he’d get all embarrassed by how much the idea turns him on! He’d sheepishly bring it up at first, but before long he’d be whispering in his husky daddy voice about how he’s going to fill you up with his seed. Teehee!

Yves Kloss – Food Play

I mean, chef Yves feeding you his delicious treats? Or eating off of your naked body? Treating you like his personal little buffet? Yves would be so sensual with this. He would get off on watching you eat, loving the facial expressions that you make while you savor something that he made just for you. He’d also be into eating off of you—whipped cream play comes to mind! He’d hand-make some deliciously sweet and fluffy cream, first putting it somewhere cute and innocent like on your nose and licking it off, and you guys would tease each other until he gets all flustered and frustrated and decides to put it on your nipples and your bare stomach and your fingers and... everywhere! He'll show you who can make who flustered!! hehe cutie Yves. 🤭

Nokto Klein – Exhibitionism

Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got another huge slut over here! Ugh, I love Nokto haha. He’s such a problem lmao. He wants the whole world to know that you are his and his alone. He also wants the whole world to know how hot and sexy you are! He’d take any opportunity to fuck you in semi-public. Or at least make out with you. He knows how to get you so distracted with his tongue, his hands, his murmurs in your ear... He’d be fingering you in the palace gardens or in a back corner of a ballroom before you even knew what hit you. He’d be all like “Look at her body, look how beautiful she is, haha but don’t ever touch or I will kill you! While smiling! Teehee!”

Licht Klein – Pain/Blood Play

(This kink is not for everyone! Proceed with caution! Also PLEASE be careful if you try this IRL!) Licht gives me masochist vibes. I can see him lying in bed with you, both of your naked bodies softly touching, you lightly running your fingers over his muscular arms, until he cautiously broaches the idea of you using a knife/small razor blade to make small cuts on him or a needle to pierce his ears or skin... You would hesitate at first, but after he reassures you and you see just how flushed and excited he gets from being at your mercy like that, you’d realize that it’s something he gets off on and enjoys. You guys would talk about it a lot to make sure that you’re going about it in a safe way! Part of the appeal for him is you treating his wounds afterward! He would only trust you with this activity.

Luke Randolph – Somnophilia

(All of this is consensual!) Luke loves to nap, and I feel like napping together would be a staple in your relationship. He loves nothing more than slowly fluttering his eyes open to see you lying next to him, still asleep. You look so beautiful and delectable, and since you guys have agreed that it’s okay—you even have a system in place, where you put on a certain bracelet or ribbon that signals your consent before you go to sleep (if you’re not wearing it, he won’t do anything)—he’d slowly slide his hand between your legs, trailing soft, wet kisses along your neck and collarbone while you’re still sleeping, gradually beginning to stroke your clit... the sensation of you getting wet while you only start to stir awake makes him hard as a rock, and before long you’d both be up and at ‘em lol.

Sariel Noir – BDSM / Impact Play

The Devil of the King’s Court!!! Oooohooohoohoo. Sariel, Sariel, Sariel... Hahaha, I can’t with this man. He definitely has a secret torture dungeon somewhere in the castle, filled with all kinds of beautifully designed whips and paddles and chains. You’d be his little plaything, no question haha. Sariel is for the masochist girlies lol. He would find excuses to “punish” you all the time, and honestly you would do the same—he would be so excited at the sight of your pretty skin getting redder and redder as he spanks you or whips you. He’d reward you for good behavior by making you come over and over again and being very sweet with his aftercare. Ugh, kinky king!

Rio Ortiz – Getting Fem Dommed / Puppy play

Biggest! Sub! In! Rhodolite! Haha. Rio is canonically referred to as the MC’s “pet” or “mutt” or “dog” across multiple main story lines lmao. And he would be such a good boy! Imagine his eager little face as you boss him around. He wants nothing more than to please you. You could be a mean mistress or a kind mistress, it doesn’t even matter! He’s at your beck and call no matter what. He’s your personal little bitch now, so use him! He likes it! Buy him a collar and leash and everything. He’ll do literally anything for his beloved mistress. Ugh, it would be equally fun to yell at him or reward him for his good behavior. Rio is the ultimate puppy material!

Gilbert von Obsidian – Total Power Exchange

(This kink is not for everyone! Don’t forget that Gilbert is pretty much a dictator! Proceed with caution! This is a consensual activity! Don’t put up with this shit IRL unless it’s thoroughly agreed upon!) Gilbert would love to control every single aspect of your life haha. He likes to see the anxious look on your face when you need something but know that you have to ask for his permission. Like, you even have to ask for his permission to go to the bathroom or eat food. He likes having all of your needs at his mercy. It makes him so horny for you. Of course, you have to ask for his permission on what to wear, who you can talk to even... Your entire life belongs to him, just like he likes it. Occasionally, you would do something without his permission and he would have to punish you!

Keith Howell – Wax Play

My thinking here is that wax play would appeal to both “Keiths.” Dark Keith would like it for the danger/tension and Kind Keith would like it for the softness/sensualness of it after the wax dries. They would go about it in different ways. Dark Keith would hold you down and pour hot wax over your most sensitive areas, making you yelp. Kind Keith would slowly drip wax along the less intense erogenous zones, like your collarbones or feet, then sweetly peel it off of your naked body. The temperature play aspect of it would be really exciting for him, and he’d love to praise your beautiful soft skin after it’s been dipped in wax.

Silvio Ricci – Getting FinDommed

This kind of breaks from MC’s canonical attitude toward Silvio and his wealth, but this is what is in my heart lol. Silvio likes a brat! He’s a tyrant and has a difficult personality, but he actually likes it when someone doesn’t back down from him. He’s so used to getting whatever he wants, the idea of being at the mercy of his little bratty baby's whims and needs would be so thrilling to him. Literally he’s your wallet now. He’s the richest man in Benitoite! Take advantage of him! He doesn’t get a choice. He's there to buy you new clothes, new shoes, as many treats as you want, a new house even! He’s got the money, babe! And that money is YOURS now. Not his. Muahahaha. 😈

[noxturnalnymph]

The Devil's Wife

Devil!Joel x Witch!OFC (7.1k) DARKAU! Joel Miller where he is the literal Devil, and the OFC is a witch named LUNA with moderate physical description. 

Summary: OFC is a witch who is a member of an elite coven who take their relationship with their Dark Lord quite seriously. This upper echelon of witches practice the darkest of magic and initiation to their circle involves a wedding ceremony that has them pledging their lives and bodies in unholy union to Lucifer himself. What happens when one of his brides (ofc) calls upon her betrothed for help one Halloween night? Will the Devil rise to save her? And what will be the cost of his rescue?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Satanic worship, witchcraft, SEX, satanic panic seduction, coercion, DubCon, monsters of the blood-drinking variety, talk of blood, violence, and death.

A/N: Entirely based on a dream I had last year but never got around to writing it. Is it Joel Miller, or is it just Pedro in a black suit? I don't know, who cares? Just enjoy it (or don't). Happy Halloween!!

The clouds part just as she steps out into the chilly October air, showcasing the sliver of the waning crescent moon hanging precariously in the sky. A breeze gusts down the alley, scraping leaves along the pavement and blowing her skirt tightly against her ankles. She pulls her maroon cloak over her head and forces herself against the wind, heading towards the warm glow of the sidewalk streetlamp.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home, Luna?” a tender voice calls from behind her.

She turns towards the voice, her friend and fellow witch Jadis following her out of their coven’s late-night gathering. The shorter witch’s honey-colored eyes probe as she tucks her lower lip between her teeth. Her rich, dark skin blends completely with the alley but begins to look like melted chocolate as the orange glow of the street crosses her rounded face. Jadis draws her cloak tight around her middle, mumbling about the cold and the hour of the meeting’s conclusion.

“You live in the opposite direction than I do,” Luna says, forcing a smile on her cheeks against the numbing chill of the wind, whipping violently now that they’re out in the open.

“I just worry about you walking all that way alone-”

“It’s Halloween, my friend,” she interrupts. “The streets are full of revelers.”

“But it’s 3am!” her friend counters.

“Then the streets will be full of drunks,” she says, clapping her hands together and silencing any further refutation from her worrisome cohort. “I shall be perfectly fine, just as I always am.”

They part ways with a hug and the lone witch cinches her hood tighter, marching down the street against the wind with her head held high. She makes it to the edge of the cemetery, humming a tune in harmony with the whistling wind, before she starts to have regrets about her late-night walk. It’s not the temperature of the biting air, the tedious walk through the village to her little part of the woods, or the spookiness of the creeping fog rolling through the wrought-iron gate that runs alongside the stiff gravestones. It’s partly the snickering she keeps hearing popping up behind her - potentially drunk frat boys about to play games with the wrong witch, but mostly the wet shoe she’s currently plodding on - having just stepped ankle-deep into a freezing puddle formed between the broken sidewalk stones.

“Girl,” she hears them whisper for the tenth time. 

She looks ahead of her just in time to see a large dark figure curl around the tall brick column that marks the entrance gate of the cemetery. Great, she thinks, they got brave enough to come out and play. She stealthily moves her hand to her inner pocket, grabbing hold of a small vial of a special brew she concocted for situations such as this. She sees his pale painted face contort into a nefarious grin, the dim lights dotting the street glinting off his elongated canines. Another Twilight fan, she groans, rolling her eyes in the shadow of her cloak.

“Little red riding hood,” the fiend croons, stepping out onto the sidewalk. 

She hears the scraping footsteps of at least two of his friends closing in behind her.

“Sorry Sparkles, I’ve got a date with the big bad wolf,” she mutters, attempting to step around him.

His cold hand reaches out faster than she expected, grabbing onto her arm. Cursing, she tries to pull her arm free from his grip but hears his nails ripping against the fabric of her cloak. What kind of claws did this guy put on tonight? She thinks he must be sobering up from whatever party he skulked out of, because his hold remains firm and he yanks her back to face him. She hears the scuffling come to a halt behind her, as his companions resume their snickering laughter.

“Don’t be rude,” he draws each word out purposefully.

A thought occurs to her that bruising her arm with his grip might actually be what is considered rude, but she doesn’t bother to voice it. Mortals can be so irksome when they’ve imbibed enough alcohol to embolden their twisted desires and put action to troubling behaviors. Pulling it out of her cloak, she lifts her unrestrained arm high, the small vial clutched tight in her hand, and drops it to the ground swiftly.

It breaks open with a soft tinkle, dark smoke rising from the cobbled stones, obscuring her surroundings and sending her would-be attackers into a coughing fit. She feels his hold loosen as she slips her arm away, stepping aside and darting into the cemetery gate beyond, leaving them behind to suffer her spell. She manages to stifle the laugh that bubbles up inside her and slinks along the pathway in the ancient resting place, ducking under old tree boughs and over wet blades of overgrown grass.

A short while later she finds herself nearing the back edge of the cemetery, the western woods looming just beyond. She would have preferred to take the worn pathways into the forest - her forest - to trek back to her cozy cottage home, but those bothersome boys have changed her plans. No matter, this way will be faster, she’ll just have to deal with cleaning the mud off her shoes and clothes when she gets home. She reaches to unlatch the creaking gate at the back fence, its lock long since broken, when freezing cold fingers lace over her bare arm.

“Not so fast, little witch,” he hisses.

She gasps a breath that doesn’t fill her lungs. How did he escape the effects of her potion? The tall, pale-faced man stands before her once again. She looks down at his hand, ghostly white against her skin, darkened veins showing even in the low light, and long dirty nails sharpened to a dangerous point. It doesn’t really look like a costume now that she’s up close. She drags her eyes to his face, noting the dark hollows in his cheeks and under his eyes. His coal-black eyes. His dark red mouth twists into a smile once again and she is beginning to think his sharp incisors aren’t part of a costume either.

“Monster,” she spits. “Unhand me.”

She spins out of the way just as one of the others snaps his jaws next to her ear, missing his target. With her arm still ensnared she is unable to move very far, and collides into the chest of the third, a rotten scent wafting off him hitting her nostrils as she stumbles towards the ground. Out of the clutches of the creature once again, she scuttles back, cornering herself against an old sunken grave with a broken headstone.

She reaches her left hand out in front of her, palm facing them, momentarily halting their movements. The plain band on her fourth finger glints off the moonlight, catching her attention. It gives her an idea.

“You bloodsuckers don’t know who you’re messing with, do you?” she hums, cracking a sideways smile.

The two giggling figures skip around her in circles as the towering demon lowers his face to meet hers, a wet smirk curving his face into a twisted visage.

“Why don’t you enlighten us,” he replies.

“My husband is-” 

Her next words are replaced by a piercing shriek, as the fangs of one of the beasts connect with the left side of her neck. She feels his sharp teeth ripping through her delicate skin and the pain burns across her in a fiery wave. Before she can fight him off, the grinning ghoul in front of her grabs her arm yet again, the left one with the simple golden ring, sinking his greedy maw into her wrist. Sharp pain shoots up her arm and her lungs empty on a scream. She sucks in air to cry out again but a filthy hand is clamped over her mouth first, muting the wail she attempts when the third monster’s teeth pierce the flesh of her other arm just above her elbow.

She lies on her back on the ground, the pain searing through her quickly giving way to a numbness washing across her skin. With the cool soothing of the pain comes a stilling calm, altogether paralyzing her from fighting back or even wanting to. The grimy hand slides from her lips as her mouth fails to make any additional sounds. My husband, she mouths the words. Her eyes drift to her left hand, her wedding ring just beyond the monster’s head still reflecting light, even as blood drips from her wrist across her fingers. 

He’s going to kill you, she thinks, unable to even form words now.

The cemetery has turned dark and she slowly realizes that she must have closed her eyes. She can still hear the wind whipping through the trees, creaking branches and blowing dried leaves against the fence nearby. There are no other noises among the silent tombs other than the sloppy slurping noises of the three vampires who are draining her body. 

She sees a dim light in the distance, like a flickering candle. No, she thinks, it can’t be a candle because her eyes are closed. She watches the candle getting closer to her, or maybe she’s getting closer to it. The bright orange glow from the candle becomes clearer as it nears, until finally she sees it right in front of her.

It’s a solitary tapered black candle, gently burning as wax drips slowly along its side. It’s just like the candle she lit at her initiation ceremony, she thinks. The coven of witches she belongs to is elite and extremely difficult to join. Her aunt had extended the invite when she showed rare magical aptitude as a teenager. Only second daughters can join, as the condition of induction was to pledge your body, mind, and life in unholy matrimony to the Dark Lord Lucifer himself. She was honored to be chosen and after many years of apprenticeship, she lit the black candle on a full moon a little over a year ago. It was identical to the candle she is looking at now, the candle she lit at her wedding to the Devil.

The flame before her suddenly gutters and goes out, leaving her in complete darkness.

***

She feels it before she senses anything else, the warmth spreading across her face, radiating out from her lips. Her cheeks burn against the freezing wind and her hair, no longer bound by her cloak, tickles wispy tendrils across her forehead. Long moments pass as the warmth spreads and finally she opens her eyes, suddenly swallowing a scream. Except she can’t scream. There is a man pressing his lips to hers.

She is being kissed by a stranger. 

A man with deep espresso eyes meets her gaze, dark curly hair falling over his forehead. He pulls back from her, his facial hair tickling her lip as his mouth curls into a shy smile.

“Welcome back” his voice, thick as syrup, coats her consciousness.

“I-,” she starts, realizing that the warmth is now spreading down her chest, across her stomach, and flowing into her arms and legs. “Did I-”

“Die?” he finishes quietly. “Yeah.”

Her eyes widen, the sharp teeth of the creatures coming back to the forefront of her mind. She looks around frantically, suddenly worried they might return to rip into her flesh and drain her dry.

“They’re gone,” he answers the question she didn’t ask.

He rises up onto his feet, and she sees he’s dressed in all black. He wears pressed black trousers and shiny dress shoes that somehow don’t have a speck of mud on them. He tugs on his black suit jacket, straightening it, and presses his hand over his black shirt and tie, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. This man looks like he just came from a fancy gala, she thinks, not that he was just crouched over her lifeless form in a dirty cemetery.

He reaches his hands out to her and she surprisingly takes them without question, allowing him to help her to her shaky feet. Before she can protest he wraps an arm around her waist and although part of her wants to object she knows that she wouldn’t be able to remain standing if he hadn’t done so.

“Let me walk you home,” he says softly, guiding her to the back gate and basically carrying her along the neglected path into the woods.

She doesn’t speak, although her mind is racing a mile a minute. Did she really die? She remembers being attacked by the vampires and not being able to fight them off but she doesn’t remember what happened after that. She weakly raises her left hand up, inspecting her wrist and seeing nothing but unblemished skin absent of any marks including any dried blood that should be there, remembering how it ran in rivulets from the monster’s wet lips. She brings her fingers to her neck, brushing them over smooth skin there as well. It would seem that her bite wounds have somehow been healed and she has been cleaned of any and all evidence of her attack.

Who in the world is this man, she wonders. Maybe the vampires left and he luckily showed up just in time, perhaps reviving her somehow. He certainly doesn’t look like someone who just fought off three bloodsucking beasts and how could he anyways, without being attacked himself? It isn’t until they reach the clearing in the woods where her small cottage sits, a lantern on the porch giving off a warm glow, that she realizes she never told him where she lived.

She pulls away, feeling a bit stronger now, and wanting to distance herself from the seemingly kind but rather unusual man who has inexplicably returned her to her secluded abode. Wait, was that mouth-to-mouth or was he kissing her when she was dead? She gives him a sideways glance and plasters the most polite smile she can manage onto her face. Smoothing strands of her tousled hair away from her face, she turns to him and her eyes widen as the man in black reaches forward and plucks a leaf out of her hair. He drops it, letting the wind carry it away as he smiles sweetly at her, looking harmless as a lamb.

“Thank you for-,” 

“What is your name?” he interrupts.

“Oh-, I-, Luna,” she stammers, caught off guard by his inquiry.

“Luna,” he repeats, drawing her name out as he wraps his lips around the vowels.

“Yes, and thank you for-” she attempts again, trailing off as he slowly steps around her, continuing to walk towards her porch. “-for helping me, I guess,” she finishes, turning to follow him while wondering what she’s really thanking him for. Did he save her? “I don’t know how to repay you,” she speaks to his back as he climbs up the steps, “but I’m thankful for your assistance.”

“Do you live out here all alone?” he asks, ignoring the gratitude she’s attempting.

“That’s-,” none of your business, she thinks. She doesn’t want to be rude so instead she says, “this cottage has been in my family for generations.”

It’s not a lie. She is - in fact - the only member of her family living in the one-bedroom dwelling right now but it has been lived in by members of her family for over two hundred years.

“It’s not safe for a young girl to be out here alone in the woods,” he says, reaching for the handle and opening the door she knows she locked when she left the house earlier today with no resistance.

She wants to protest that she can take care of herself, which is her usual response when people say things like this, but given what has transpired tonight she bites her tongue. Instead she follows him as he enters her home without invitation, drawn into the main room. She watches as he closely inspects framed photos on the walls, touches the spines of old books on her bookshelf, and toggles the flue of her chimney as he passes the hearth.

She wants to ask him to leave. No, she wants to physically shoo him out of her home. Who does this man think he is and what right does he have to waltz into her home and parade around as if it were his own? She reaches towards the vial in her pocket only to bitterly recall having already used it tonight in her attempt to disable her attackers. 

She follows a way behind him, straightening what he’s poking out of alignment and trying to ignore her growing sense of unease. She looks up at the man in black to find him stopped and standing very close to her. She gasps in a sharp breath as he seems to examine her with a curious stare. A long moment of silence passes as a gentle smile builds on his face. She pushes past the knots forming in her stomach in an awkward attempt to match his gesture.

“You’re married?” he asks.

“What?” Her brows knit, surprised by the query.

“You were mumbling about a husband when I found you,” he explains, pointing to the golden ring on her finger as further evidence.

“Oh, I-,” and she pauses, unsure of how to proceed. 

She turns towards the fireplace, using the hand he motioned towards to push some dust around the thick wooden mantle. She curses herself. She should have said she lived here with her husband when he asked if she was alone but he’s already come to the conclusion she is the solitary occupant of the tiny cottage. But she is wearing a wedding ring and he apparently heard her talking about her husband in the cemetery. She can’t very well explain to this mortal man in black that she’s married to the Devil, he’ll come back with a pitchfork carrying mob. Best case scenario is she winds up in a psych hospital and worst case is that she becomes kindling.

Wait, how did he hear her talking about her husband, she thinks? She only remembers mentioning him to the vampires before the attack and then any words beyond that didn’t seem to leave her mind. 

She whips back around to find him standing even closer now and before she can react he grabs her left hand in his. She opens her mouth to scream but he lifts her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss right over her wedding band. A warmth spreads across her hand and up her arm, jolting her body as images play across her mind.

***

Her body lay bloodless over the damp soil of someone else’s grave. Three greedy ghouls, licking crimson from their craws, eyes glistening with glee. The thrashing wind comes to an eerie still and the man in black materializes in the shadows of a nearby willow. He stalks silently but the creatures see him coming and let out a loud hiss, frantically fleeing at the mere sight of him. The man in black raises his hand, snapping his fingers, and white-hot flames instantly engulf each vampire. He stops to watch them burning, their tormented howls piercing the night, until they are nothing but shadows and ash carried away on the breeze. He moves to his knees at her side, touching the ring on her left hand reverently, before he leans down and places his lips over hers.

***

She takes in a deep breath, her lantern-lit cabin coming back into focus around her, the man in black still bowed slightly in front of her, lips against her hand. He raises his head and his rich brown eyes meet hers once more, only this time she knows exactly who she’s looking at.

“Hello, wife,” he smiles sweetly.

Her eyebrows climb up her forehead as she attempts to pull back her hand from his gentle grip, which tightens in response over her delicate fingers. She’s no longer a stranger to the true nature of the man in black who stands in front of her, having sacrificed her immortal soul to him in order to draw on his supernatural influence to fuel her dark magic. But to have him actually standing in her living room, the raw power radiating off him is enough to make her bones ache, and she finds herself stunned and a bit scared. She continues to try and wriggle out of his crushing grip until he stills her with his words.

“Aren’t you lonely out here all alone?” he questions, his lips still upturned into a saccharine grin.

“No I-, I prefer to be alone,” she stutters.

“Is that why you want me to leave even though I just got here?” his mouth turns to a frown.

“No!” She exclaims. “I don’t want you to leave, I just-”

“I did exactly what you wanted, didn’t I?” He lets go of her as he begins to circle her in the small space. “You wanted me to destroy those monsters who dared to lay a finger on you and I did. And then I fixed you up good as new. Well… almost” he winks at her as he tucks a loose strand of her messy hair behind her ear. 

“Yes, I was-,” she shakes her head, the nerves sending a hot wave up her neck to burn at her cheeks. “Thank you,” she stammers.

“You don’t have to thank me, wife,” he hums. “I always take care of what’s mine.”

“Yours…” she trails off.

“Yes,” he smiles. “You are.” He strokes his fingers against her cheek, so warm against her still-chilled skin. “You were saying something about repayment and I think I’d like to make a request.” His smile is sickly sweet once again, boring deep into her.

“Oh-,” she starts before he grabs both her hands in his, silencing her.

“I think I’d like another kiss.”

Another, she thinks, because their first kiss was when she was… deceased.

“Yes,” he continues as if reading her thoughts. “Our first kiss felt like ‘Snow White and the Prince who woke her from her slumber’. But our story isn’t a fairytale, is it my dear bride?”

“No,” she whispers tentatively.

“No,” he agrees. “Our story is one of dedication,” he places his large, warm hands on her shoulders. “Of adoration,” he continues, pushing down until she sinks to her knees. “Of worship,” she tilts her chin to look up at his dark gaze above her now. “And that deserves a very different kind of kiss, don’t you agree?”

She manages to nod her head slightly as he reaches to unbuckle his belt. Watching as he unzips his trousers and pulls himself out of his pants, she’s not surprised to see how well-endowed he is but is a bit shocked at how stiff he’s already become.

He cups his right hand around her neck, pushing his length towards her face with his other hand. She finds herself pursing her lips together in a kiss only to have him push past them into her empty mouth. Of course she knew what he wanted, not just a kiss, but she’s still feeling a bit disoriented. He makes tentative, shallow thrusts while her hands rest on the front of his thighs before she hears him muttering above her through clenched teeth.

“Come now, wife, I thought you were grateful.”

She reaches to grip him and puts some effort into her ministrations. It’s not that she’s inexperienced but it has been a while since she was with a man, since before her wedding ceremony certainly. When she pledged her body to the Dark Lord, she certainly wasn’t envisioning having to perform an act such as this. However, she figures the best course of action is to not just let him take what he wants, but to give him an unforgettable experience. It's in her best interest to show him how appreciative she really is of his rescue.

She pulls her head back, swirling her tongue over his tip, while pumping him firmly with one hand. When she hears him moan in response and grab her hair in his fist, she knows she’s on the right track. She flattens her tongue along her bottom teeth and lets him guide her head up and down, taking him deeper with each pass until she begins to make choked gagging noises.

He lets go and she pants, wiping away the drool that now streaks her chin and hears him chuckle above her at the sound of her gasping breaths. Before she can stop herself, she scratches her nails down his thighs, probably harder than she should have given the fact that he’s the Prince of Darkness. A hissing intake of breath is followed by a deep, rumbling laugh that seems to reverberate off the walls of the small cabin and vibrate deep in her chest, and then his hand is back in her hair in a rough, twisting tug.

He shoves himself past her lips in one go this time, hitting the back of her throat with a gurgle and this time she lets him use her mouth like a toy, grabbing at his ass and holding on tightly. This goes on for several agonizing minutes, him allowing her to gulp in much-needed air in between the rough, dominating ramming of his pelvis into her chin. Finally she hears him cry out just as he pulls away, immediately grabbing himself tightly at the base of his shaft and shaking his head.

“Oh, that was close,” he says breathlessly, laughing without humor. “That lovely mouth of yours is so decadent, wife, that I almost lost control.”

Good, she thinks, and she can’t stop the smug smile that creeps across her face.

“Proud of yourself my little witch?” He tilts her chin up to meet his eyes, brushing away escaped saliva from her cheek. “Let’s see what happens when you’re the one being so deliciously tormented.”

At this point she has no idea what to expect of him but grabbing her off the floor and throwing her over his shoulders was certainly not something she anticipated, so the surprised wail that escapes her lips is almost inaudible to human ears. She hears him chuckle yet again as they pass through the door concealed as a bookcase to carry her into her bedroom. The man in black walks through this home as if he owns it, she thinks, before she recalls herself bowing before a black altar and offering everything she possesses in service to him. 

Perhaps this house is more his than hers, she recognizes, as she hears him hum in agreement to a thought she didn’t speak out loud. Before she can question his possible reading of her thoughts she’s deposited onto her four-poster bed, with its velvet emerald curtains wrapped around walnut-hued spires, vines carved in swirls around them. Her vision focuses on the man in black before her only to realize that he’s no longer wearing a stitch of clothing. She opens her mouth to speak but her eyes catch on her own body, laid bare in front of him.

“How- ohhh,” her questioning is cut short when he dives forward, spreading her legs and latching his mouth to her core in one fluid movement. 

He drags his tongue up her seam and then closes his lips around her sensitive nub. He begins to pulse his tongue against her and she is unable to stop herself from immediately crying out in pleasure. She’s positive that he knows exactly what he’s doing when in under sixty seconds her back is already bowing off the bed, her nails digging into the sheets, her voice crying out in ecstasy.

He pulls back and gently places kisses on the insides of her thighs, she feels the warm huffing breath of his laughter blowing across her wetness. He gives her a short moment of reprieve before he slowly pushes a gloriously thick finger into her wet heat, moving to swirl his tongue across her overstimulated bundle of nerves. He lets her writhe and wiggle, attempting to move away only until the sensitivity fades and she finds herself grinding her center towards his face for more.

Somehow she has her wits about her enough to grab his hair this time, eliciting a hum of approval from him that she feels vibrate against her. She’s proud to see that she’s able to hold out a bit longer before her orgasm tips her over the edge, but her ego crumbles when instead of stopping he continues his ministrations to bring a third crashing wave of pleasure immediately after the second.

Delicious torment, indeed.

He pulls his face back again, glistening with her arousal and smiles a devilish grin, his pupils blown so wide that his eyes are nearly black. He roams up her body, placing kisses that feel more like bites than smooches, devouring with his eyes what his mouth can’t reach.

“Husband,” she keens, the desperation in her voice unfamiliar to her ears.

The responding growl that escapes his chest seems to shake not only the room but the entire forest around them, vibrating deep into the wood foundation. He grabs her ankles and spreads her legs obscenely wide, notching his thick head at her entrance and sliding it back and forth, coating himself in her wetness. He waits until she’s clawing at his chest, head thrown back and begging him in frenzied babbles, and only then does he finally push himself into the clutch of her.

“My magnificent mate, what an agreeable display of thankfulness you’ve given me today,” he proclaims, setting a fervent pace. “So welcoming to your dark angel, eagerly performing such valued wifely duties for him,” he continues to prattle, more for his sake than her own since all she can manage in response is frenzied moaning. “Perhaps I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you, my wanton little witch.”

He pushes on the back of her legs, driving her knees towards her chest and hitting inside her at a new angle that causes her to scream out in bliss. She wraps her own arms around her legs, holding them tight to her as he mutters words of encouragement and praise. She feels another orgasm building inside her, starting as a tingle at the base of her spine.

He leans forward and spans his large hand across her throat. “Whose pussy is this?” he asks, giving her no time to respond before he’s demanding more answers. “Who’s the only one who gets you down on your knees? Who is the only one who makes you come? Who do you belong to? Who? Who?”

She manages to scratch out a long wail of “you,” beneath the pressure of his hold before she starts to tremble and break apart, coming again in a seizing crest. In a half growl he demands she open her mouth and when she enthusiastically obeys he leans over her and spits, gripping tightly at her neck to feel her strained swallow. Only then does he let himself lose control, grabbing her hips with a bruising grip and pounding away half a dozen more times before he lets loose a roaring release, pumping his warm spend deep inside her.

***

She pads out of the shower, head and body wrapped in warm towels, and comes across her amorous husband perched on the edge of the bed once again dressed in his all-black ensemble. She sees him looking into the nightstand drawer he has opened and before he can reach his hand in to grab what she’s sure is something she’d be rather embarrassed to have to explain, she clears her throat. His hands still but he doesn’t appear surprised by her presence, likely having no qualms about being caught peeping through her unmentionables.

Wordlessly, he shoots her a glare, displaying ire that is no doubt driven by the trove of sex toys he’s just discovered stashed away in her bedside drawer. She shrugs and heads to her dresser, turning her back on him to pull out her pajamas and giving what she hopes is a flippant but playful reply. 

“Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself when I’m alone.”

He says nothing in response but she hears a throaty rumble and notices the flames dance higher for a moment in response. She turns to find him behind her, although she didn’t hear him approach, so close now that she can feel the heat of his body radiating onto her skin. He pulls the towel loose from her hair and caresses the side of her face, tucking some loose strands behind her ear. She bumps backwards against the dresser but stills as he leans forward and places a gentle kiss onto her forehead.

“Are you leaving?” she asks, hating the disappointment she hears evident in her voice.

“I have things to attend to, but worry not darling wife, I will return to you,” he speaks against her forehead and she isn’t sure if the flip her stomach does is from excitement or fear of his promise. “Be careful out here in these woods alone, it’s just not safe,” he echoes his earlier sentiment and she nods her head silently in a placating gesture. 

She shuffles her slippered feet, seeing him to the door and watches him as he walks until his dark form reaches the edge of the glow of the lantern lights and he slips back into the shadows.

***

“I can’t believe it,” Jadis guffaws, having listened to Luna’s entire recalling of the events of Halloween night.

“I swear to you, every word is true,” she lies, having told her friend the truth of the evening almost a fortnight ago up until the moment the man in black pushed her to her knees. Something about how the night ended made the whole encounter feel even more unbelievable, so she twisted the truth a bit to tell a story of a grateful wife ending the night with a chaste kiss instead.

“No, I can’t believe you waited two weeks to tell me about it!” the small witch exclaims loudly, both of them erupting into a fit of laughter, the hysterics sending the small car wobbling in its lane. “Did you tell the coven elders about it?” she wonders, having finally gotten a hold on her laughter and the steering wheel.

“Oh, Gods no,” Luna deflects. “This sort of thing is probably so commonplace, I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m bragging.”

But that was another lie. She knew damn well that if the Morning Star himself had ever appeared before any of the other witches in her coven that entire memoirs would have been written about it, let alone engaged in the manner of acts that he had with her. She felt heat passing across her cheeks as her mind flashed through memories of them together. As for telling the coven, she was never one to brag and she didn’t want to set off any jealousies. 

Technically they were all married to him, each and every one of a long line of witches having given themselves over to him and while it gave them deep and lasting power, he’d never bestowed any personal gifts upon any of them. In nearly two centuries of recorded history of their coven, he had never whispered sweet nothings on the wind, sprouted flowers in a garden on an anniversary, or intervened at all in any of their daily lives.

Even while she practices this internal rationalization with herself she knows that it is also a lie and that the real reason she's kept it secret is that his visit to her had made her feel special. It made her feel like she might really be the powerful witch she’d been told she was while growing up and that even their Dark Lord took unique notice of her. It made her feel cared for, perhaps a feeling intensified by her solitary lifestyle and etched into her mind by his repeated reminders of her being “all alone in the woods”.

She remembers the way his warmth spread across her as he placed his lips over hers and the mischief that danced in his eyes when he stood above her in her living room. A buzzing feeling spreads down her chest and settles deep in her belly as she recalls the way he coaxed pleasure from her over and over again, and his delightful threat to keep a closer eye on her plays on repeat in her mind.

Loud sirens sound behind them, knocking her from her reverie and startling Jadis into quickly pulling over on the side of the road. Two large fire trucks speed by them, blaring horns and flashing lights. Behind them follow several police cars and two smaller fire department trucks. Once the raucous cavalcade passes, Jadis pulls back onto the road and follows along the darkening route out of town.

A short drive later as the car meanders along the winding drive into the woods, the fading sunlight gives way to quite a spectacle ahead of them. The woods ahead seem to be glowing a magnificent orange while red and blue lights flash blindingly against the tree trunks. A heavy fog obscurs the view as bundled figures run from truck to truck, dragging hoses around and shouting muffled orders from behind helmets with face masks.

Not fog… smoke.

Her woods are on fire. Her cottage is on fire. She ignores Jadis’ protests and jumps from the passenger seat of the car before it has even stopped moving, vaulting herself towards her home. Before she can get close she feels large arms wrap around her middle, stopping her forward movement as two firemen approach her with their arms out, trying to calm her down. Eventually she settles and the man holding her, dressed head to toe in firefighter gear, releases his grip around her while keeping one hand gently on her shoulder.

When the blaze is finally extinguished she lets the fireman who has comforted her guide her around the smoldering perimeter of what was her centuries-old home. The inferno had burned hot and quick and she doesn’t recognize anything to be salvageable, save for the cast iron cauldron she sees sitting among the fallen hearthstones. She turns to him in the dark, his face completely hidden behind his mask, and sees only her own image reflected in his visor; trails of tears streak her soot-covered cheeks and strands of hair chaotically twist in the wind, matching the mood of the evening.

She feels more tears stinging at her eyes and lets the broad-shouldered fireman turn her away from the sight of the destruction, tugging her against his smoke-scented jacket and tapping a gentle hand on her back in sympathy. She feels herself break open and let go, sobbing deeply into this stranger’s shoulder for several minutes before she takes deep breaths and slowly collects herself.

A tall, tie-wearing fireman approaches her alongside a shorter man sporting a police uniform and a very thick mustache. She turns to them, sniffling and wiping her tears from her face.

“Is there anywhere we can take you, Miss?” the officer questions with a nasally voice.

“Do you want us to call anyone, your husband maybe?” the warm voice beside her asks.

“Oh, sorry ma’am, I didn’t see the ring,” the officer apologizes. 

“They think the fire may have originated from the nightstand in the bedroom, but the fire investigators are still working,” the tall man speaks in a deep soothing voice while she focuses on the glinting badge pinned to his chest that reads 'Fire Chief'.

“Can we take you back into town?” the officer continues. “Maybe there’s a hotel or somewhere your husband can meet up with you?”

She sniffles, the mention of her husband stinging at her wounded pride. The man in black had been attentive enough to bring her back from the dead but apparently not to stop her home from burning to the ground. Keep a closer eye, my ass, she thinks bitterly. She wants to be upset but a part of her tries to rationalize that she should still be grateful that he intervened at all on that violent Halloween eve. However, tonight’s events have the euphoric high of the last two weeks quickly wearing off, and she feels another jab of hurt that he hasn’t tried to contact her once since he left.

“I can drive you to your Aunt’s house,” a small voice speaks up behind her, and Luna emerges from the fog of her thoughts to realize that Jadis has been here the whole time.

Fresh tears spill down her cheeks as she nods a small thanks, taking her friend’s outstretched hand and letting herself be guided back towards the little car parked down the drive.

“Hey,” she hears a shy voice speak up. 

She turns around to see the familiar broad-shoulders of the fireman who has been her companion for hours. He takes large steps, coming to stand right in front of her in the drive and Jadis continues on to wait in the car, giving them privacy.

“Be careful, okay?” he pleads, and she opens her mouth to tell him she’ll be fine. “It’s not safe for a young girl to be out here alone in the woods,” he finishes, reaching a gloved hand forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She freezes, watching her own eyes go wide in the reflection of his visor. She reaches a hand forward slowly, grabbing the bottom of the mask. When he makes no move to stop her, she flips it up, knocking his helmet off of his head in the process. She knows what she’s expecting to see under the mask, or rather who she is expecting to see. 

What she doesn’t expect is for the entire uniform to collapse in front of her very eyes, landing in a limp pile on the ground at her feet as if nothing but a spectre had inhabited it. With shaking hands she leans down and grabs a small white paper sticking out of the collar of the empty jacket. She flips it over in her trembling fingers, reading it several times. It’s a business card for Joel Miller, a familiar face smiling from a photo on one side of the card. The Devil’s in the Details, Inc., it says, and below that is written ‘Home Building & Realty’, along with a local address and phone number.

On the back of the card is a handwritten note:

I always take care of what’s mine. xx - your loving husband

[haru-dipthong]

Ep 10 of my Utena fansub is out!

The start of this episode where Saionji is expelled has a lot of very Japanese talk of shame, responsibility, 面倒 (mendou: care/burden), etc. Many of the turns of phrase sound funny when directly translated, so it makes more sense to rephase the sentence into something more familiar. Here’s a lightning round of 3 lines and their various translations. Hopefully based on the colour coding you’ll be able to see where and why I made the choices I did.

破廉恥にもほどがある

Is there any limit to his shame? (from ohtori.nu)

Is there no limit to his shamelessness? (from internet archive)

How desperate can you get? (my translation)

Said by Juri. 破廉恥 means “shameless, disgraceful”. にもほどがある kind of means “it’s an understatement to say X” or “is there a limit to X?”. I think talking of “shame” in this sense is distinctly Japanese. If Juri was an English speaker I think she would come at the behaviour from a different angle — desperation.

この上、面倒かけて悪いんだが…

Sorry to further burden you… (from ohtori.nu)

I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. (from internet archive)

I hate to ask another favour of you, but… (my translation)

This from Saionji — a literal translation would be “on top of everything, I’m sorry for burdening you with another thing”. This is just before he shows Touga the exchange diary to give back to Anthy. Interesting to me that the Internet Archive subs don’t mention that he’s asking a new favour.

俺は責任持って渡しておくよ

I’ll take responsibility for delivering it to her. (from ohtori.nu)

I’ll take care of it for you. (from internet archive)

I’ll personally see to it that she receives this. (my translation)

責任持って literally means “hold onto the responsibility and…” which sounds better as “take responsibility for…” but I think it sounds even better completely rephrased. Side note: The Internet Archive subs make another interesting decision here. “Take care of” is ambiguous and makes it so that Touga isn’t outright lying (since he immediately incinerates the diary). But he literally does lie in Japanese, he says he’s going to hand it over.

-----

やはり、女の子は王子様にはなれないのでしょうか。

Should have known, a girl can’t become a prince… (from ohtori.nu)

Maybe a girl really can’t become a prince… (from internet archive)

Maybe girls can’t be princes after all. (my translation)

A classic translation foible: translating やはり as “as expected” or “I should have known”. Of course it can sometimes be translated as that, but in many contexts that translation doesn’t make sense. My vibe read of やはり is that it signifies that the speaker is reflecting back to a past state of mind. In some cases, this is thinking back and realising you were right all along, hence “as expected” as a common translation. But in some cases, like this one, you’re thinking back and reconsidering that you may have been wrong. I guess this is what the “should have known” translation is trying to do, but it’s not as strong as that. The English phrase “should have known” is almost berating yourself for not knowing, whereas the Japanese やはり is not nearly as self-deprecating. It just shows that you’re reflecting and reconsidering.

-----

目障りなのよあんた達。いつもお兄様の周りにうろちょろと。

You two are an eyesore, always hovering around my brother. (from ohtori.nu)

You’re both eyesores, always hanging around my brother. (from internet archive)

You two sicken me. Always dangling off my brother like parasites. (my translation)

It’s sad that these other translations used “eyesore”. Technically that’s what the word means, but I’m being completely honest when I say I’ve literally never seen or heard the word “eyesore” outside of an anime translation. I really, really hate the word “eyesore”. In my mind it’s the very essence of poor translation.

What does 目障り actually mean? It’s a compound word — 目 is “eye” and 障り is “hinderance”, “obstruction” or “sickness”. It basically just means “I can’t stand the sight of you”. So I translated it as such: if someone “sickens you” then you can’t stand the sight of them. This plays into the second half of the line.

I took a few liberties with the second half. うろちょろ is an onomatopoeic word for like, pottering around, loitering, hovering without doing anything. I actually like this part of the translation from the ohtori script, “hovering” is a great word. お兄様の周り can mean “around my brother” or “in the vicinity of my brother”. I believe Nanami is trying to get across the idea that Utena and Anthy have nothing better to do than hover around Touga. The problem was that the “hovering around” phrasing didn’t feel visceral enough to go with “sicken me”. I could have reworded the first half (”I can’t stand you two”), but I really liked how emotionally charged the line felt, so I doubled down on it.

-----

Thank you to @dontbe-lasanya for some very nice changes this episode on some lines I was really struggling to phrase naturally! And for this comment lol

Follow to see new episodes as they release! Go here for all past episodes:

[yerimbrit]

[flufftober day 29, wc: 595] - irl twilight : p. sohyun & z. xinyu

VAMPIRES AND WEREWOLVES, ah yes, the cliché that every stereotypical fantasy horror-romance story has… except, you don’t know why your company took you, sohyun, and xinyu to fulfill those roles—sohyun being the werewolf, xinyu being the vampire, and you, the beautiful female lead which has attracted both of the supernatural beings.

it’s supposed to be a photoshoot, something for a special halloween event that you three got voted for in a gravity for some reason, but these two are seriously getting on your nerves.

“take five!” the director calls, the two girls beside you still not breaking their fiery gazes. 

your shoulders slump, and you sigh, “you know you guys don’t have to actually fight over me, right?”

“we’re merely playing into our roles,” xinyu chirps, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, “right, sohyun?”

the short-haired girl (aka werewolf) hesitates for a moment, glancing at xinyu’s hand, “...yeah.”

“i know sohyun’s representative animal is a wolf, but i feel like you two should switch roles. the personalities are kind of off,” you remark, peeling the possessive arm away from your body and making your way to the refreshment tables. the two girls trail behind you, acting as if they were your shadows.

you can hear them fighting with each other behind you as you take a sip of ice-cold  water, soothing the heated nerves in your throat. but it’s too much of a bother and too much effort to break them up, because the second you turn away they’ll just start again—like just now.

when you turn around, they face away from each other like they did nothing wrong. “i can literally feel you pinching each other from here, what are you even fighting over?”

the ‘vampire’ smirks, and the ‘werewolf’ grimaces. “you.”

you can only shake your head and head back to the set, nodding at the director. 

“okay, y/n i want you to sit in that chair, and then sohyun and xinyu behind you.”

the three of you follow the instructions, and of course the girls’ hands land on your shoulders. the grip intensifies after they share a pointed look. 

the director hums, before calling out again, “actually, i want sohyun resting her head on y/n’s lap, is that fine?”

you turn your head to see what’s going to happen, and xinyu side-eyes sohyun, who quirks the corner of her lip up like an unspoken, ‘ha. i win,’ before smiling fully at you. 

her head falls neatly onto your lap, her lower body resting on the floor in an elegant manner, and xinyu’s hand moves to have her nail gently brush against your neck. her doe eyes are trained on you, whereas you’re staring dreamily at the camera, and sohyun’s sharp gaze is also directed at you.

“perfect, perfect! this is more than enough, combined with the pictures from earlier, thank you girls!”

well, the photoshoot is over. but neither xinyu nor sohyun are making a move to detach themselves from you. instead, the ‘vampire’ leans down, breath fanning your ear and sending shivers down your spine, and whispers a message into your ear, sohyun not hearing the words she delivered to you.

not that it really matters, because the ‘werewolf’ stands up abruptly and takes your hand to lead you out of the building while pulling off the stupid wolf ears off of her head. 

“hey!” xinyu shouts after you two, “heyy!”

“ignore her,” sohyun whispers, whisking you away to the car before the other girl can even think about catching up, “i’m the one you’ll choose, right?”

“um…”

flufftober masterlist!

a/n : hmm...

[24hlevi]

— ALL THE VOICES

rain carradine (alien: romulus) x reader

synopsis: helping rain with nightmares, after the mission went wrong

warnings/tags: language, survivors guilt, established relationship, nightmares

ive literally been geeking out about this movie since it came out so i decided to write this up! feel free to request for any of the lads in this movie 🫶

also this is super short but i needed to post something so here!

rain was having a nightmare again. she had them often once the three of you had gotten away from that fucking real-life nightmare. once getting to yvaga, you had to arrange everything because rain was unwilling to speak. thankfully, you were able to score a decent place for you guys with what you had saved up beforehand.

you weren't exactly a deep sleeper after the incident, so you woke up every time rain would be having a nightmare or get up in the middle of the night. so when you felt movement beside you, your eyes groggily opened and you turned your head to the side.

“rain?” you mumble, sitting up on your elbow as you rub your eyes with your hand. when she doesn't respond, you peer down at her and despite the darkness, can see the contorted look on her face as she dreams.

rain shifts around again, her leg kicking yours but she doesn't wake up as she mumbles incoherently in her sleep. she starts moving around more, and you grab her arms so she doesn't begin thrashing like she tends to.

“rain, hey, wake up,” you say to her in a gentle but steady voice. “rain,” you say a little louder.

she still doesn't open her eyes, and you glance around the small room when you hear her mumbling come out more clearly. you could only make out a few words, but you knew what it was about. it was the only thing both of you dreamed about since it happened. “rain,” you say again, louder than the last time. your hands carefully cup her face as she stirs around in her sleep. “rain, baby you gotta-”

rain suddenly gasps awake, her eyes shooting open as she abruptly sits up, almost hitting you in the face. she’s breathing heavily as her eyes dart around before landing on you.

“hey, hey,” you say. “it's okay, you're okay. you're okay.” you try to reassure her the best you could. you know better by now than to say that everything was okay, because it wasn't. you realized that fairly quickly. “just breathe. you're okay, you're here.”

when rain realizes where she is and that she's not back out in space, that she's with you, on yvaga, her tense body relaxes. “i-i’m sorry. i didn't mean to wake you up,” she immediately apologizes, which happens every time.

“it's okay,” you respond, shaking your head. “the same one?” you ask softly.

“yeah,” she nods her head, speaking quietly. “i just…wish it would've turned out differently. we were all supposed to be here. but it's just us. i-i know that it’d been a while since we saw them last before we left but i wish it didn't turn out this way. i couldn't s-save them, even when we were almost done. i-i couldn't-”

“hey,” you cut her off, your hands hesitantly holding her cheeks. “don’t start talking like that. i know what was supposed to happen, but it didn’t. we can’t change anything about that now. believe me, i also wish it didn’t happen the way it did, but we can’t do anything.” you pause for a moment before continuing. “do you need anything?”

rain slowly shakes her head, instinctively leaning into your touch as she mumbles a response. “no, ‘m okay.”

“okay.” your thumbs are drawing little circles into her skin as she leans her head against your hands.

“will you lay back down with me?” she asks in a whisper.

“of course,” you instantly reply softly with a nod.

a faint smile forms on rain’s face as you lay back down onto the bed, grabbing her hand and pulling her down with you. she curls up into your side, resting her head on your chest as your arm hangs over her.

“thank you…for putting up with this,” rain says quietly.

“you don't have to thank me,” you respond in the same voice. “i’ll always be here for you.”

“i love you,” she murmurs.

you smile down at her, pressing a kiss to her head. “i love you too. more than anything.”

[evilwife777]

out of the million things abt men that disgusts me, one of the top has got to be how they sexualize literally everything and refer to women in porn categories. “the blonde with a tight ass” (what the fuck is a tight ass? i genuinely still don’t know) “petite curvy redhead” whatever that means. or worse, when they start bringing arithmetic into it - “a brunette 7 is better than a 10 redhead but a 10 redhead can’t be beat by a 7 blonde” are you even fucking speaking english rn.

as a black woman i’ve seen all kinds of men in these conversations including black men, but black women are the demographic i see brought up the least in these discussions. which don’t get me wrong, thank God, we’re good off that - but it just goes to show how if men don’t find you fuckable you literally don’t even exist to them. like you’re completely invisible. idk how anyone can live with themselves being okay with not treating human beings like…well human beings lol

[zeroseuniverse]

Moonstruck

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Yuta confessing under the moonlight

Genre: Fluffffffffff, hurt/comfort (minor)

A/N: Jaeil doesn't exist

Yuta might literally be the cutest person she had ever met, they had been best friends for years, but as she got closer to the other NCT boys the clingier Yuta had gotten, which she didn’t mind in the slightest, it was just utterly adorable. She would move Mark's sleeves out of the way when they were at dinner to avoid food getting on them when Mark forgot to, then minutes later Yuta would be reaching with sweater paws, trying to act innocent. So she’d simply repeat the action towards Yuta with a fond smile as she watched his eyes glimmer with happiness.

Today was one of the days where he was particularly clingy, he had come home from his schedule to find her, Johnny, and Taeyong sprawled out around the living room, it seems Johnny had kicked her off of the couch partially with how she was upside down still trying to beat the two in a game, Taeyong had his head on her stomach and Johnny was simply trying to mess both of them up rather than focusing on himself winning. When the round ended the trio huffed, none of them had won, in sync all three began to stand up. They had planned to grab a snack after that round, but when their eyes landed on Yuta they could immediately sense something was off, “Yuta?” She called, trying to snap the man out of his trance, it worked. He took a few steps forward to grab her hand before walking to his room swiftly, pulling her into a cuddle session. He laid on top of her just allowing his brain to decompress as he listened to her heartbeat. It wasn’t unusual for this to happen, when Yuta had an off day he naturally sought her out. Naturally she should have known it was an off day, he had been texting her any second he could, asking for random selfies, and offering up a sleepover.

The two laid in bliss for a while, her hand massaging his neck and back as she hummed some tunes to lure him into a small nap. She wished she had noticed sooner, but when she felt her shirt beginning to dampen she froze, she tried maneuvering to see his face but he nuzzled into her stomach not allowing her to see. “Yu? Are you okay?”

He remained silent, the only notion that he had heard was that he moved her frozen hand towards his hair, asking for head pats. She wished she could chuckle at that moment because he really was a puppy, but she was too worried. “Yu, I know you’re not okay, so take all the comfort that you need from me. When you’re ready we can talk. I don’t like when you suffer alone.” She spoke so softly, the sound tenderly caressing his ears, allowing his brain to melt slightly as he finally felt seen after the long day of being invisible.

She hadn’t noticed she had dozed off, but when she woke up a few hours later the moon was shining through Yuta’s bedroom window and the man was standing at the window looking out at life outside, “You know, My mom used to tell me that you never know who you could end up loving.” His voice broke through the silence when he heard the sheets shuffle telling him she had sat up. She was confused, but she hummed, allowing him to say whatever he needed to say at the moment. “I think she was wrong.” was his continuation, confusing her even more, what was he on about? “From the moment I met you, I thought ‘I could love her’ it hummed in my brain every time I saw you. And then, it switched,” Yuta turned his body around so he was now facing his back to the window, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed. His face was totally serious, so different from his usual happy face, he was making sure she knew that he meant every word he was saying, and she did. Her heart was beginning to race, her throat drying as she prayed that this conversation goes the right way, “It changed to ‘I think I love her’ You got along with my friends, my family adores you, you take care of me. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. I didn’t actually come to terms with it until you started getting closer with Mark, it seemed like you guys were beginning to like each other and I panicked, I wanted all of your attention. Today, you were hanging out with our friends but the second I needed you, you were there. Now when you do things like this, how is it possible to not love you?” He hummed, beginning to move closer, her teary eyes were glimmering like stars, the stars that he couldn’t see from all of the light in the area, it made him smile.

“We take care of each other in a way nobody in my life has ever been able to do. We love each other in every move we make, but my love? It’s not platonic, it hasn’t been for a while. Today at my schedule I was so tired, all I could think of was coming home and trying to talk you into a cuddle session, but as I walked in, a switch flipped, I needed it more than anything. And when I laid down? I felt so safe, so please, accept me so we can create our own haven in each other.”

His words sounded so poetic, she had never experienced a love quite like this, he was so in tune with his emotions, so vulnerable. The tears kept welling up and her words got caught in her throat. After realizing she couldn’t get the words out she surged forward, her lips meeting his, allowing him to lead the way. So he did, they stayed joined until air became nonexistent in their lungs. As they separated, her stomach rumbled, the skipped snack from earlier making itself known. “Oh my! Let’s get you some food.” He offered with a chuckle, beginning to pull away even more, only for her to pull him back.

“I can eat later, I can only get a chance to share my feelings properly once, I won’t mess that up. I will accept you, always. I have always been yours. I don’t plan to go anywhere else, anytime you need me you can find me.” She smiled as she took in the admiration in his gaze, with a hint of mischief, which was worrisome. Her body was picked up and slung over his shoulder with ease, it happened faster than she had expected earning a yelp to erupt.

“Now that feelings have been spilled, how about a bedroom picnic, let’s get my girlfriend some food in her tummy.” He hummed, happily carrying her out of the room, their faces both glowing red. – “Did you get it?” Mark wondered as he peered over Taeyong’s shoulder to look at his phone, the two had sprung up from their beds the second they heard talking beginning to audio record the conversation through the phone, they had known Yuta was close to confessing and had simply been waiting, as soon as they got the chance they were so going to share the recording with the rest of the group.

[millenianthemums]

parents of disabled kids will be like “we know our kid is disabled but we just won’t tell them about it. we don’t want them to think they’re less valuable than other kids. we don’t want them to feel limited by their disability, we want them to know they’re capable of anything.”

meanwhile those kids are growing up thinking “why is everything so much harder for me than it is for everyone else? there’s no reason i shouldn’t be able to just do this. i guess i’m just a failed, broken person.”

[ihearnocomplaints]

I point you all to my ko-fi page once more -> link

my parents, enraged that I didn’t sort a massive mound of clothes yesterday (after doing the other chores they asked), essentially decided they are going to start charging me rent.

So this is just in preparation for that moment when they do start asking. I’m still trying to save up to move out. It’s not a huge deal yet (idk how much they’re going to charge) so there’s no pressure to donate.

I work a full time job so I can’t really give much in return. But I can take doodle requests upon proof of donation! I’ll doodle any DCA you want.

Thanks.

[comfymoth]

see quackitini is O.O, ? is ( I ).( I ), and pulgoier is Ooo.ooO. does this make sense. have i lost it.

[musings-of-miss-j]

SPOILER below

Maybe don’t read chapter 117😬

(New chapter in 7 hours I don’t know what to feel)

we don’t speak of chapter 117. in fact it never happened. 117 isn’t even a number

[dentalcaring]

vent. sorry i’m honesty hangry and upset

actually i’m still annoyed. has anyone in this damn fandom heard of filtering tags. for shit. they don’t like

also like not to be ‘what about’ but seriously if your biggest problems are fucking shipping wars on tumblr dot com i envy you. truly.

[leonardalphachurch]

sometimes i remember that most north fans don’t write him as an absolute insane person ethical manipulative girlfriend style and i’m like. what is he even then… just a pleasant white man? you know what. more power to you if you need a pleasant white man for a blorbo but god that could not be me