#it was so long ago that a drew it but i still feel bad because i know fordic is a married!!man!!

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[carbonateddelusion]

sits here. my mood has been swinging back and forth like a pendulum lately

[catchastarorten]

—You’ll be with me.

Pairing: Hwang In-ho x wife!fem!reader

Summary: being a previous winner of the games, the memories still haunted you. In-ho knew how bad it could get and he wanted you to feel safe, so he tried his best to give you comfort.

Warnings/content: fluff, comfort, temple kiss, a bit of angst, mentions of reader’s backstory as a player in the games, mentions of trauma, mentions of gunshot, blood, violence, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: 906

The air in the compound always felt thick, the silence lingered in the air. A quiet kind of weight that clung to the walls, the floors, even the people who roamed them. It had been years since you had been a participant in the games, years since you survived when so many hadn’t—where the memories of those days whispered in every corner. And yet, you were back here, year after year. You found yourself with him, In-ho.

You were a survivor. Years ago, you had stood on that blood-streaked ground, faced death at every turn, and somehow clawed your way out alive.

You hadn’t won because you were ruthless, but because life had refused to let you go. He oversaw your games, saw the way you fought but still left a piece of your heart filtered, still kept something kind. It was what drew In-ho to you in the aftermath of it all.

He was the Frontman, a man who wore a mask to the world and had barriers around his heart. But now with you. With you, he softened. He was unguarded, even. You had seen him beneath the cold exterior, you gave him gentleness and a sense of peace he didn’t know he needed, the kind that healed him in ways he didn’t know was possible.

But what you could never get used to was the feeling of knowing. Knowing that beyond these walls, people were fighting for their lives, as you once had. It lingered in the shadows of your mind, surfacing in flashes that made you sweat through the nights or turn cold at the sound of anything resembling a gunshot.

In-ho always noticed before you could hide it. He would find you, pull you into his arms, and remind you with his steady voice and warm embrace that you were safe now.

He understood in ways no one else could, because he too had been shaped by the games, though in a different way.

“You don’t have to watch,” he said to you the first time you expressed interest in sitting with him during one of the games. He was seated on the leather couch in front of the screen, the monitor displaying the players being led into one of the ‘playgrounds.’

His hand rested on the armrest, fingers curling slightly as if restraining himself from reaching for you. “It’s not something you need to see again.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, stepping closer. “I’ve faced it before.”

In-ho looked at you then, his mask already set aside on the table. His eyes searched yours, and you could see the conflict in them—the worry, the love, the fear that he might be wrong to let you stay.

His expression softened further, and he reached out a hand to you. You took it, and he pulled you close, guiding you to sit beside him. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, his warmth enveloping you as if he could shield you from everything. “Are you sure?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. The screens flickered, showing the players, their expressions were hauntingly familiar—those wide eyes, the curious glances, the way they clung onto the hope that they might win the prize money to pay off their debts.

You sat close, knees brushing his as the game unfolded on the screen before you. It didn’t take long for the first shot to ring out. A player dropped to the ground, lifeless, and you felt it then—the cold rush of panic creeping up your spine.

Your fingers twitched, the memories clawing their way back into your mind. The sound of gunfire echoed in your ears, overlapping with screams you could still remember too vividly.

In-ho noticed, his hand was on yours in an instant, fingers firm but gentle as they wrapped around your trembling hand. “You don’t need to put yourself through this,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

You didn’t say anything, but continued watching.

In-ho exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. He didn’t argue, but he didn’t let go of you either. His presence was steady, like an anchor keeping you from being swept away by the tide of your memories.

As the game progressed, the inevitable deaths began to unfold. You flinched at the sound of gunfire crackling through the speakers, at the way the players dropped one by one, their dreams snuffed out in an instant. Your breath came quicker, your chest tightening as if an iron band was wrapping around your ribs.

In-ho pulled you closer, his other arm wrapping around your shoulders. He pressed you against his chest, his heartbeat steady and calm against your ear. “Breathe,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “It’s over now. Just breathe.”

You did as he said, focusing on the warmth of his body, the gentle pressure of his arm around you. The screen in front of you showed the survivors—those who had managed to stumble through the carnage—but you didn’t look at it anymore. You buried your face in In-ho’s chest, letting his scent and his touch ground you in the present.

He never made you feel like you had to be stronger than you were. And you knew he carried his own weight too—his role as the Frontman, the choices he had made—but he never let it interfere with his devotion to you.

[potatoplace]

the 1

Elriel, Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Alternate Endings: Gone | betty | The Prophecy

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: All you had ever wanted to be was plain. And now, as a plain-faced High Fae, you want more. You want your mate.

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, self-loathing, suicide

Words: ~2.6k

Author's Note: I'm sorry. (I told you guys I've been having a rough week...) Apparently my brain is saying 'fuck Kinktober!' Even tho like. I WANT to write those... smut just doesn't feel in the cards for me today 😩 so have some tasty tasty angst instead. (I'm also watching an Eras Tour live so I'm hella cheered up now lol)

18+ only pls

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

Self loathing grew in your gut as you watched your family around you.

All of them were happy, reveling in the togetherness that they shared.

And your mate- your mate- was ignoring you. He was speaking to one of your sisters, absolutely enamored with her. And you couldn’t blame him.

Elain had always been the pretty one of the four of you, a shining diamond even in the filth of poverty.

Nesta was the one with regal beauty, her sharp eyes and the way she carried herself not letting anyone think otherwise.

Your twin, Feyre, was stunning, even if she herself had never seen it, the cleverness in her eyes and quiet grace drawing people’s gaze to her.

And then there was you.

You were… the ugly one. Your mother had said so, even though you were only a child when she passed. Your father had quietly agreed with her. Nesta had mocked your looks when she had had a bad day, which was nearly every day while you had been living in the run down hut after your family lost their fortune. Elain said nothing, but shot pitying looks at you when no suitor asked for a dance while you had still been human, even when it had been a ball thrown in your honor for your birthday. Feyre has been the kindest to you, reminding you that it’s what on the inside that counts…

But that didn’t appear to be so.

Even with a mating bond that you knew should draw Azriel’s attention, his eyes were still glued to Elain. He seemed to be able to breathe only when in her presence, taking in the same air as her.

And in your presence? He couldn’t seem to get away fast enough.

Being dumped into the Cauldron had made both of your sisters even prettier, and Feyre was no exception either after being turned High Fae.

For you, it had made you plain. No longer ugly, unless you counted the still crooked teeth and too small nose and thin mouth.

Just plain.

As a human, you had begged to whatever higher power there was that you could just be plain.

But now that you were, you knew it would never be enough.

Because while Feyre was right, your personality mattered more in a long term relationship than your looks, being pretty drew people in.

Being plain only made you fade into the background.

Azriel laughed at something Elain had said, the sound sending warmth through your body.

It should be you making him laugh, not Elain.

Elain, with her beauty and poise and perfect personality and her ridiculously handsome mate who wanted nothing but her time.

Elain, who seemed to want no one and no thing but your mate.

Your Azriel.

You tore your gaze away from the couple, who you already knew were in a relationship. Elain had confessed it to you a month ago, gushing about how their fifth date had gone and how she thought he was the one. She had told you first, knowing that you wouldn’t tell anyone.

After all, who would you tell?

It’s not like you had any friends in Velaris- or in the human lands, for that matter- and your other two sisters were so preoccupied with their mates and growing personal circles that they hardly had the time to look at you, let alone talk to you.

No. You were alone. You were a lockbox for all of her secrets.

Including that she was planning to officially reject the mating bond once Azriel offered a proposal of marriage.

That had made you sick to your stomach, but you had hidden it deep, deep down in your heart as you congratulated her and faked happiness, asking her when she thought he would propose.

“Any day now, I suspect. Azriel told me that he was planning for the future, and wanted to know if I would like to be a part of it,” she had sighed dreamily. “We just need to tell the family, I know that… Rhys was worried about what us being together would mean for court relations. But he’s just being dramatic, don’t you think?” Her chocolate eyes landed on you, so filled with hope that you couldn’t tell her that he was your mate.

“Yes, he’s just worried, ‘Lain. I’m sure everything will be fine,” you managed to say, and relatively normal at that.

That was last night, and while your eyes had drifted to the carpeting, they shot back upwards at the sound of clinking metal on glass.

Your mate, standing with a flute of sparkling wine in his hand and a knife in his other, had his arm locked with Elain’s.

He cleared his throat once he had everyone’s attention, his eyes passing over everyone-

But you. His eyes skipped over you, even now, with the bond flaring in your chest.

“Elain and I have something to announce, though Rhys already knows what it is.” You heard a hand slap against an arm, Rhys’s faked moan of pain, and Nesta scolding her mate. Azriel smiled at their antics, such a rarity on his face that your heart skipped several beats, leaving you lightheaded.

It most certainly wasn’t because of what they were announcing.

“Elain and I have been dating for the past two months, and we would like to make it official with you all now. In fact, the two of us will be moving into a cottage in town later in the month, and we would like to invite you all to join us for a housewarming party in two weeks.”

The inner circle broke into cheers around you, Cassian immediately encasing his brother in his arms and clapping him on the back.

“Congratulations, brother! I know you’ve waited a long time to find love.”

You remained seated where you were, offering a smile to the happy couple but staying put.

If you stood, you were sure to faint. Or be sick. Or both.

Nesta was the only other person who remained where they were, a skeptical look on her face.

“I hate to be the person to bring the party down…” She started, her voice weary. “But what of your mates? Haven’t you wanted one for your whole life, Azriel? What will happen when you find her?”

“If I find her, I will reject the bond, Nesta. My love for Elain eclipses that of what I thought possible, even with a mating bond. Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister,” Azriel answered, which seemed to be enough to have Nesta’s approval, as she stood and made her way to the couple.

“Then I’m happy for the both of you. But if you ever hurt my sister, you will deal with me,” Nesta warned, ice in her tone.

You didn’t stick around to hear what came next.

Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister.

And of course, he was right. How could you compare to Elain?

She was beautiful, yes, but she was also a perfect match for Azriel. Kind and caring, always ready to help people, not to mention she would be a wonderful mother.

And then there was you. Plain. Boring. Nothing special.

Even the Cauldron hadn’t thought anything of you, leaving you with a High Fae body but no magic to speak of.

You couldn’t even fathom why you had been made Azriel’s mate when Elain was such a wonderful pairing to him, and had the magical abilities to match.

You stumbled your way to the town house, where you had taken up residence once Feyre and Rhys had finished the river house. Once inside you quickly made it to your room and shucked off your clothes after locking the door.

Bare, you stood before the mirror and assessed yourself. It was a habit you had picked up once your family had regained their fortune after Feyre had been stolen away.

One that brought you no comfort, but you needed to do.

Your physique was fine, you had filled out in the past year of being fae.

But there was nothing… special about you. You were medium height. Your chest was a bit smaller than average. Your legs were on the shorter side, making your torso look too long.

And your legs… they were covered in small white scars.

Another habit that you had picked up, this time after turning fae.

And tonight would be no different.

You suppose the one saving grace of being turned fae was your quick healing, letting you destroy your body without anyone knowing.

And no one ever would, seeing as your mate was on his way to being married to your sister.

A sigh left your lips as you turned to your bed, fishing the small blade you kept underneath out from below the mattress.

Tonight would be no different.

Except now you knew that even if you confessed your bond to Azriel, your heart would be torn to shreds no matter what.

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

It was two months later, during Starfall, that your world crumbled further.

You had donned a plain dress in a midnight blue, with long flowing sleeves and reaching your feet. You had opted for flats, seeing as no one would pay you enough attention to notice if you were in heels or not.

No, no one would notice you at all.

Because Azriel had a ring in his pocket.

One that you had given him advice on, to choose something Elain would love.

A glutton for punishment, that’s what you were as you gazed at the beautiful couple, clad in matching blue outfits and beaming at one another.

You had attempted to stay home that night, only for Azriel himself to personally fly you up to the House of Wind, insisting that you needed to be there for Starfall.

You knew he meant their engagement, though.

He hadn’t even glanced your way once last Starfall, so you knew it wasn’t that you would be missed by him.

Still, you stood on one of the balconies, watching them. Waiting for the moment that your life would be forever altered, never to have a great love.

Because truly, your one chance at a great love was a mating bond. You knew that no one would choose you to spend their life with, not when you were so plain and boring with nothing to draw people in, to get to know you.

They were dancing together, so wrapped up in each other that it was painful to watch.

And then your feet were moving, leading you straight to them. You met them right as the song finished, the two of them just inches apart.

It stung.

“Azriel, may I speak to you for a moment?” You asked without realizing the words had left your mouth. “Alone, please? It will just be a moment, I promise.”

You cringed at yourself.

What were you doing?

Azriel glanced down at Elain, who nodded with a smile. “Of course. I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss to Elain’s lips before following you back into the House, away from the commotion.

“What’s this about, Y/N?” Azriel asked in a clipped tone once you were alone, anxiously glancing back to where you had left Elain.

“I…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Are you really going to tell him?

“Well?” He asked impatiently, his shadows swirling around him.

“I… I’m your mate,” you said, the words rushing out all at once, and your tore your eyes away from his face and to the floor.

“You’re… You’re joking, right?” Azriel asked incredulously.

A dagger of ice to the heart, crafted of your own yearning and longing for him, for your mate.

“No, I… It’s true, Azriel. I am your mate.” Your eyes flicked back up to his face after you said it again, but you wished you hadn’t.

Anything would be better than seeing the horror in his eyes, the disgust twisting his features.

The dagger, forced in further by a hand smacking the hilt.

“You?” Azriel laughed. “Why would the Cauldron make you my mate?”

Twisting, bleeding, shredding your soul apart even as you felt the bond flare to life on his end, the very slightest stumble as he regarded you.

“I… I don’t know…” You whispered, barely audible.

“You’re not my mate,” Azriel said, stepping away from you. “You were never going to be my mate. You’re a fine enough person, sure, but how could you compare to Elain?” He shook his head, snickering to himself. “I suppose these five hundred years of waiting were for nothing. I’ll tell Cassian or Rhys take you back to the town house. Just…” He sighed. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not you, it’s me, hmm?”

And with that, the bond between the two of you was shredded, a wounded cry leaving your lips as you sank to the ground, clutching your chest where it used to reside, glowing brightly and giving you a reason to go on.

“I think it’s best for you to stay away from Elain and I. I wouldn’t want you getting territorial and ripping my love’s throat out of anything. Goodbye, Y/N.”

You barely heard him walk away, so overwhelmed with pain.

Why me?

Why was I his mate?

Why didn’t I just drown in the Cauldron?

With a great deal of trying, you managed to hoist yourself back onto your feet, stumbling your way to one of the unoccupied balconies, still clutching your chest.

Your gaping, empty chest.

Because Azriel still had your heart. He had shredded it, mangled it beyond believe but it still resided with him, leaving you with nothing but a hole where it used to be.

Your legs crashed into the edge of the balcony, your hands flying to the stone to steady you.

But it didn’t help, everything was still spinning, blood rushing in your ears as your heart kept beating somehow, somehow still physically intact even as you felt it was being ripped from your chest over and over and over.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t live.

The very fact that Elain was so casual, so blasé about shredding a bond to bits had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your sister.

How could she condemn someone to this existence?

Because already, you weren’t living.

This couldn’t be living.

It couldn’t be.

You risked a peak over the edge, spying the sharp, jagged rocks below.

If you weren’t living now…

Before you could second guess your choice, you lifted yourself onto the balcony, letting your legs dangle for a moment.

Then you swung them over the stone, to the side that had nothing to catch you.

Well, nothing but the cold embrace of death.

Which at this point would be a welcome reprieve from the fiery hot grief flooding through you, grief at the bond that was never given a chance, a moment to be considered.

But perhaps that was all the consideration you needed. To know that you would only have been a burden of mate to the male you had fallen for.

You took one last, jagged breath into your lungs before you slid off the smooth stone, air rushing past you and-

This must be what it feels like to fly.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

[yanderefarm]

Is dry humping aloud and if it is may I request dry humping Ares while he’s trying to do something like house chores

distracted (with ares)

cw;; nsft, dry humping, stuck in a washing machine

the crazy thing about this is actually that i almost wrote this exact prompt but with thigh fucking a few days ago. it's a little bit silly but I tried my best. won't lie i don't really know how to write dry humping.

you had the day off and usually that meant you and ares would spend the day doing something special. maybe you'd go on a date, do something really romantic, or maybe you'd just spend the day fucking like jackrabbits. but today your coworker had asked to switch shifts last minute so you were home but ares was still diligently at work. today he was doing laundry then cleaning the bedroom, living room, and kitchen. you offered to help but he was pretty particular about how he wanted things done and made it no secret he thought you would get in the way. so you were basically following him around the house like a lost puppy.

he was talking about what you two could do together when he got finished cleaning but you were barely processing a word. you felt like a bad husband because instead of trying to listen to him your eyes were focused on the way his turtleneck clung to his body. his long red hair drew your eyes down his back, red ringlets cascaded over the firm muscles and down to the center of his back. his waist narrowed just a bit before reaching his wide child bearing hips. he was wearing black pants today that perfectly accentuated his pillowy heart shaped ass. further down if you could bare to pry your eyes away from his perfect ass was his thick thighs, thighs that had spent so many nights trying to crush you in their embrace. his pants squeezed into them showing off the way they squished softly before giving way to his firm muscle. he was so beautiful. his body was the perfect amount of strong impressive muscle and the more recent addition of soft fat from living so happily. before his body only really had a little squish mostly in his chest but now he'd grown so soft with love.

you watched as your beautiful wife bent over to reach into the washing machine to pull out your clothes, his soft ass up in the air. you couldn't contain yourself anymore. your hands reached out and gave his ass a nice firm squeeze, your fingers sinking in. ares squeaked in the way he did oh so often when you would get handsy. he tried to lift his head up to look at you but you pressed your hand down against the small of his back. you moved yourself directly behind your lovely wife, your hips lining up with his soft ass.

"wh-what are you.." ares lost his word as your bulge pressed right between his clothed cheeks.

"it looked like you got stuck." you pulled roughly on his hips pressing him further against you.

ares moaned, the sound only slightly muffled by the washing machine. his hands gripped the sides of the opening tightly to prevent himself from actually being pulled out. you placed one hand against the top of the washing machine as your hips rocked forward. ares's body would rock into the machine before you would half heartedly attempt to drag him out. your hips stayed almost glued to his only occasionally thrusting against him.

the sight in front of you was unbelievably sexy, almost like your wife was in a hole in a wall. you could only see everything from his broad shoulders down. his shoulder muscles were flexing with every rocking motion as he tried to keep himself stuck. his ass bounced every time it smacked against your hips. his legs were trembling, thighs burning as he struggled to keep himself up. you let go of his hip to give his jiggling ass a smack which earned you a wet moan. ares was clearly feeling it, his hard cock rubbing against his tight pants until a wet spot formed. the feeling of his ass cupping your bulge had your cock leaking too.

your fingers started to hook into his pants when he suddenly cried out.

"no-!" he did his best to turn his head to look at you. there was hints of tears in his eyes.

"what's wrong honey?" you rubbed your hand along his back.

"wanna go out with you... if we start having sex we won't be able to go on a date." he was clearly pouting.

you finally let go of his body and moved away from him. "sorry... you're just-"

as soon as ares freed himself from the washing machine he threw himself into your arms. "you couldn't resist? it's a little cliche to get stuck in a washing machine but I'll forgive you, honey."

"you're so sexy." you leaned down and gave him a kiss. "my sexy wife got caught in a washing machine."

ares nuzzled against your chest, his finger drawing circles in your skin. "you're so cute... but you should probably just take a shower and wait for me to finish somewhere else. i don't want to be distracted."

[azulhood]

It all started because of a school project, technically two projects, while it wasn't a world ending threat they set of a change reaction that lead to startling discoveries.

Mr Lancer had given the class the task of looking through their pasts and finding an life changing event that helped shape them into the person that were today and writing about that event.

It was a ten page essay (they were allowed to go over that limit) the more details the better and if you had something from that event to show (such as photos or keepsakes or really anything) you were awarded extra credit.

Danny's choice of event was the school field trip to a nearby museum he went on when he was seven, the space exhibit they had was what sparked his love for the stars and kick-started his dreams of being an astronaut.

It wasn't like he had any other choice (he doubted mister Lancer would accept 'my death' as a good life changing event)

He knew that he had photos of the field trip somewhere with all the other photos taken throughout his life, he just had to find them.

And after digging through thousands of boxes and piles of discarded inventions he handled with care (in case they blew up) he found them tucked inside an old photo album covered in green stains that sat on top of a bookshelf.

Opening the book caused all the pictures to fall into his lap, it seems like his parents didn't get around to actually adding them to the book, Danny resigned himself to spending the rest of his day shifting through old photos.

It wasn't all bad though, he found pictures of when Sam still had blonde hair and wore pink and of that time Tucker wrote an 'I love you' on his parents cars with their keys and many other embarrassing photos.

A treasure trove of blackmail material.

He finally found the picture he was looking for.

All of the kids who are now students of Casper high stood in front of an old building each proudly holding up something they bought in the gift shop (Danny had bought a book on planets that had long ago fallen apart)

It was a normal photo.

And yet, something seemed off.

Sam and Tucker were there with him in between them, Dash was there too.

Along with Kwan, Mikey, Paulina, Valerie, and all the others.

And yet, something was missing.

Then it hit him.

Wes wasn't there.

Danny could've sworn that he had been on that trip, but the more he thought about it the less he was sure.

He couldn't actually remember Wes being there and Danny remembered nearly everything about that trip.

'Maybe he was sick or something?' It was the most logical thing he could think of to explain the other absence, that and his parents not wanting him to go for some reason.

Mystery solved he pushed it to the back of his mind , he had an essay to finish.

Still, it stuck with him.

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

The next school project Lencer gave them was one with assigned partners.

Danny got Wes who, despite not being Sam or Tucker, was leagues better then Dash and he'd take that as a win.

Wes had insisted on studying at his house so he could, and Danny quotes "Keep an eye on you Fenton"

Danny could practically feel the hidden cameras burning a hole into him while he stood in front of the Weston's door, waiting for him to go ghost for whatever reason.

Jokes on him though, Danny asked all the ghosts to leave him along for this month with the promise of giving them a head start the next time they caused trouble, so really Wes was just wasting his time.

"This way." Wes said already heading inside without caring if Danny followed.

Being the first time he had ever been in Wes's home Danny looked at everything and anything.

It was a fairly normal home, not like Danny's which had an anti-ghost defense system or Sam's super rich house.

But more like Tuckers

One of the things that drew his attention was the pictures that lined the walls.

There were so many.

Some with Wes and his mom, some with just him, some with just his mom, and some with people Danny didn't recognise.

But there were no baby photos.

The only pictures Danny could find of a young Wes seemed to be from when he was eight? Nine?

And nothing before.

'Maybe they were put away in storage' Danny guessed, but it still made his brain itch.

He remembered looking at old school photos and not finding any sign of a young Wes at all, he didn't even remember Wes coming to school any time before the year Danny turned eight.

And in a small town where everyone knew everyone that really wasn't possible.

'Maybe they moved here and lost a lot of stuff' Which would explain a lot, well no harm in asking. "Did you loss a lot when you moved here?"

Wes stopped walking and turned around to give him a look that asked if he was insane. "I've lived here my whole life, Fenton."

Danny froze, that couldn't be right, he'd remember that.

Something was wrong.

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

Tim Drake sat in front of the bat computer as the rest of his family patrolled.

He had one monitor displaying the other bats locations while all the other monitors were used to show him files, or rather the lack there of.

Wayne Enterprises had tournaments held for schools and the prize was an all express paid trip to Gotham and tour of WE and surrounding areas, Tim could think of way better prizes that weren't visiting the crime capital of the world but that wasn't the point.

What was the point was that every time there was a winner Tim preformed a routine background check on students and staff (and by routine he means learn their whole live story) just in case anyone happened to be trained assassins set to kill one of them, stranger things have happened.

Wes Weston was one such student whose background Tim had to check.

And he found nothing.

Sure, there were hospital and school documents from age eight and upwards, but other then that nothing.

There was no birth certificate, no evidence of him attending daycare, nothing.

It was as if Wes did not exist before he was eight years old.

And perhaps the most interesting thing.

Amy Weston was listed as Wes's biological mother, DNA even said as much, and yet Amy's medical file said that she had never been pregnant and also had no siblings that could've been Wes's parent.

And yet Wes existed, appearing one day as if he had always been there.

Was it cloning? Aliens? Magic? A changeling? Someone creating false information to hide the truth?

It was a mystery, and mysteries had always been Tim's Kryptonite.

[galactic-rhea]

WDYM Anakin is Luke and Leia's dad

I dunno if this post will reach the Star Wars fandom but I hope it does because I'm sure you all will get a good laugh at me.

As of recent I have developed a good hiperfixation for Star Wars, the thing is I knew nothing. NOTHING about Star Wars besides the fact it had aliens and...a war...in space? And funny swords. And main character is Luke or something, I spent over 20 years ignoring anything about Star Wars and somehow missing most references out there.

And recently, literally less than a month ago I saw a gif and said to my partner "oh this guy this guy looks cool, this gif looks nice" and he said "Oh well, he's a good character." And it all developed into me watching Clone Wars, the animated series you know and...and I was kinda blown away, on my opinion the show IS GREAT. And I love every character and their interactions, I love how much they focus on side characters, and they all seem very well written. I got hiperfixated really fast and saw Anakin and I was like "Omg, babygirl. He's a blorbo now."

And because of the show, this was super unexpected, but somehow I also got, really got, into the ship with Padmé because omg, cool woman. Literal happy squeaky noises of someone who was in a bad state and needed some good ol' distraction and comfort.

Now, like I said I knew nothing about Star Wars as a whole. And I still haven't watched the movies, besides the ocassional gif?

So imagine my shock, my surprise, my...bewilderment when I realized.

"Wait a minute, LUKE IS ANAKIN'S SON?! HOLY-"

Ladies, gentleman, and others, I think I came very late to this party and I don't even know how it took me so long.

Not only that, but because of this sudden love for the series, I went to my friends circle like "BESTIE, GUESS WHAT, I HAVE A NEW BLROBO AND A NEW FAV SHIP AND EEEP"

And my friends are like "omg that's amazing, what is it?"

I tell them, and of course they all know these characters and they all react like they know this very bad secret fact and I got told several times already "Please, don't watch the episodes 2 and 3 alone, it will hurt."

I feel like blissfully walking among rainbows and blue skies while everyone else know that my future is doomed. Somehow.

(Uncomfortable silence)

Not only that, but then I spent a whole deal of time thinking "Where the heck I have seen these guys" cus there was some fmailiarity I couldn't just point out and then one day I woke up, brushed my teeth and of all sudden I realized and it was such a shock.

Do you know how SURREAL is to get very into a character, and into a ship, and then realize they're the same from that super widespread meme that has been around for who knows how much time?

I swear I thought that meme was from some old medieval fantasy movies or something.

But alas, Star Wars now is EVERYWHERE. People do references to Star Wars ALL THE TIME and it's just now I'm catching them.

I got spoilers. From a meme. In a youtube review that had nothing to do with Star Wars hah. Everything is a spoiler, the world is an apparent spoiler. Now I'm here, trying to avoid spoilers from something everyone seems to know, even my family knows. It's so surreal and I wouldn't have it any other way 😂

Anyways, if you read until here, know that a wild ride still waits me, cuz I'm only starting Season 3 of Clone Wars and I don't plan to watch the movies until I finish the series.

And yes, I made this blog just to ramble freely about SW and draw stuff because it sparked my inspiration after a long art block.

Have this doodle I drew after watching the two first episodes, my offering for you reaching this far.

Note: Wouldn't Anakin and Padmé's ship name be Animé? Cuz that's hilarious.

[pearlfeline]

homesick

peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tw: none

a/n: i used to write for hp and i tried to start anew with this blog but it failed lol. (might still write for hp if i feel like it) but i luv peter and wanted to write for him so bad. i kinda didn't know how to end this but i thought it was fun to write anyway. thanks for reading.

"What can I getcha?" You attempted a decent smile, though Peter could tell you were tired. He knew tired. He IS tired.

Peter, blinking that thought away, snaps back into reality. He is in a small diner, and he took too long deciding outside the door if he wanted to go inside, so to avoid looking stupid he shuffled inside and sat down.

"Banana wheat cake... Is it any good?" He lets out a dry chuckle.

You press your lips into a thin line. "I know I work here but..." You bit your bottom lip, tucking your pen behind your ear. You drew closer to Peter so he could hear you. "It sucks. Get the breakfast combo." You winked, tracing a circle around the menu item. Peter unintentionally takes in a whiff of your perfume, giving him a hard time remembering what you just recommended.

"It comes with a free coffee." You flip open your notepad again, and as you grab the pen from behind your ear, a piece of hair falls to your face.

"I-I'll get that then." Peter closes the menu handing it back to you.

"Great. Bacon or sausage?"

Peter catches a lump in his throat. Almost as if words were filling to the brim and he couldn't say a word.

"Bacon." He smiles but keeps his gaze on his hands. They were almost uncontrollably fiddling with each other.

"Got it. I'll be right back with that."

Peter watches as you quickly let go of your charm to catch up with refills of coffee. You worked hard every day just to make rent but you never complained. Peter was never a customer until today, yet he could tell so much about you. His eyes couldn't help but follow you wherever you went.

His eyes followed you around the counter, grabbing a tray and putting his food on it. You were trying to keep him from waiting any longer and picked up the pace approaching his booth.

“Oh!” You slip, losing grip of the tray holding Peter’s breakfast.

Before you could react to the impact of the floor, you were pulled up. You opened your eyes and find Peter’s arm over your waist, successfully maneuvering the tray to grab everything that flew.

“Great reflexes.” You looked up at him with bewilderment.

“Thanks.” He shyly loosened his grip on your waist. You pull down and flatten your apron. “Whew. That was incredibly lame of me but surprisingly cool for you.” You let out a chuckle, making sure nothing was ruined on his plate.

“Why surprising?” He replied. “Do I look like a loser?” He suppressed a small smile.

“No you just look more… smart cool and maybe a possible ninja? I don’t know what else to call what you just did.”

Peter lets his smile crack a little, taking a sip of his previously airborne coffee.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not lacking physically because you’re a book smart type of guy.” You give him a quick once over cheekily.

Before Peter can panic and come up with a mess of a response, a disgruntled old man cuts the moment short. “Coffee! Hello?” He slams his mug on the table.

“Duty calls.” You gave him a small wave, quickly making your way to the opposite side of the diner.

Peter spent the remainder of his time quietly finishing his breakfast, stealing quick glances at you.

Watching you smile even though you’re probably overwhelmed and exhausted. The hardest part was deciding when to leave. He had to go eventually to avoid being a creep. He had finished his food ten minutes ago. Before he leaves, he folds a $20 dollar bill into an origami heart, leaving it on the table.

The next morning, Peter walked a little faster, posture a little straighter, and smiled a little more.

Peter wanted to see you again. He knew not to tell you about the past, but what would be so wrong just talking to you? He attempts a nonchalant glance through the windows, making sure you were inside before walking in himself.

Peter gives you a shy head nod, making his way to sit at the counter instead of a booth.

"There's the generous tipper from yesterday. Hi, I'll be right with you." You got up from speaking to your coworker and greeted Peter.

"Was my service that good?" You flip open your notepad.

"The best." Peter pretends to study your name tag. "...Y/N."

"Well, thanks..?" You tilted your head slightly.

"Peter."

"Ah, Thank you, Peter."

"I won't be her for long, I just wanted a coffee."

"And you came here?" You snickered. You only half meant that statement. You didn't know why, but seeing him a second time was making your dreary work day go by easier.

"Yeah, in case you decided to fall again today."

You gasp, being dramatically 'offended'. "I'll let that comment slide... Since you gave me that nice tip. Even though I was struggling to unravel it for a while in my car." You grab a pot of coffee, pouring it into a cup that says 'print design here'.

"Thanks." Peter chuckles.

"No sugar?" You asked.

Peter's gaze slowly reached yours. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" You raise an eyebrow innocently. "Nobody here drinks black coffee unless they're over fifty or a pretentious student. Oh, were you afraid to ask this whole time? Hold on." You reach and dig into the pocket of your apron.

"N-no, it's fine. I don't really drink sweet coffee anymore." Peter's face falls in defeat. Of course, you wouldn't remember his order. Peter had to remind himself that he was a customer and a customer only to you.

"So, you're a pretentious student huh? No wonder I got a big tip. Let me guess you're studying tech?"

Peter shakes his head. "Biochemistry. Though, I do have somewhat of a tech background. I-" Peter almost rambles on but catches himself. "I'm poor. Not really enough money to be pretentious." He sinks into his seat, taking a sip to cover his face.

"Dude, do you know how tipping works? You can't be poor and tip me $20 after a breakfast combo from a dingy part of the city."

"You work hard." Peter scratches his neck. "...At least from what I've seen." He sighs.

"Are you actually poor?" You start wiping down the counter to keep your boss off your back for being unproductive.

Peter sheepishly avoids your eyes.

"...I'm poor too." You smiled. "If that wasn't painfully obvious by how I look."

"No. Not at all." Peter took this opportunity to take in your appearance. You looked exactly the same. Even though it had taken months for him to face you again. It's like your eyes were waiting right where he saw them last, inviting you in.

Unknowingly, you take his one-sided reunion with you as innocent flirting.

"I get off at 5." You blurted out. Why were you so inherently flirty all of a sudden?

Peter straightens his posture as if that would help him hear you properly. He blankly stares at you as you do the same for a response.

“…Are you free..? Or interested?” You throw the towel over your shoulder.

“YE-yes. Yeah. I have no classes today I can come get you of course but I don’t have a car I just walked here but not from far.” He rambles.

You visibly relax your composure as that alone was enough evidence that Peter was just a nerd without the rich snob part. Though he kept the physique of someone who would visit his rich dad’s personal gym.

“Here's my number. I’ll get you an actual good meal.” You shyly look down at your feet, ignoring your ugly, work-approved kitchen shoes.

“Deal.” He pays for his burnt diner coffee, and leaves an appropriate tip this time.

You sneak in one last wave before he disappears around the street corner.

This shift couldn’t have gone any slower for you. The wait from 4:00 to 5:00 was the most excruciating pain of consecutive boringness.

When it was time to clock out, you rushed out the back, shoving your work shoes into your book bag and trying to fix your disheveled hair that had been put up by a pencil this entire time.

You rushed to the front of the diner while putting on your wrinkled sweater to mask the smell of butter off you at least a little.

You waited. And waited. And waited some more. 5:15. Why was he late? Did you scare him off? Is he never coming back to the diner? Was that big tip an accident? Maybe he took out the wrong bill and played along today just to avoid being awkward.

“Shiiit.” You groaned. You looked around the intersection. “Maybe he’s rushing towards me?” You thought. “He’s gonna come around any second and say sorry frantically like the nerd he is.”

He didn’t. He never showed. You waited for an hour more and just decided to walk home.

As you were walking along the dark and wet sidewalk, you were internally thanking yourself for bringing that sweater, but cursing because you wanted to take the scenic route and walk to work today.

“Hi miss.” A voice called from behind you.

You turned around to see Spider-man.

“Oh wow, hi?” You’ve never seen him this close before. The rainy afternoon gave his suit an exaggerated glimmer and despite his bug eyes, he didn't seem scary while approaching you.

“Why would a pretty lady like yourself be walking alone?” He starts walking beside you holding out an arm for you.

“Well, I was supposed to leave work an hour ago.. Something came up.” You take his arm cautiously. “I usually walk home anyway, nothing different today.”

Peter feels a lump growing in his throat. Even when he ditched you, you don’t insult him.

“Except… it’s an hour later. That means it’s an hour’s more worth of danger out here.” He jokes.

You nod, not really the response he was expecting. Spider-man was not getting the same treatment as Peter.

“Something wrong?” He felt wrong asking immediately. Yes something’s wrong. He was wrong.

“I just.. I’ve been feeling empty almost. Recently it’s like… It’s like I’m missing something. Not completely empty, but enough absence to feel hopeless. I had a date today and he didn’t show.” You almost continue until you looked up to realize you were talking to a bug man.

“Sorry. It’s dumb. I don’t expect you to understand or help.” You chuckled dryly.

Peter wanted to tell you everything so badly. He was already pushing it by seeing you again. Giving you a second taste of danger. But he burned for you. Maybe the first time was a sign. This was a new opportunity to keep you safe and he blew it. He crawled back to you desperately just for a glimpse of you. To see that you were okay. Now he’s knees deep in a new relationship with you and you didn’t even know.

“It’s not dumb.” He quietly answered. Peter on his way to get you, was leaving his apartment when he saw someone being robbed. “Maybe he ran late?”

You scoffed. “For an hour? More like he forgot.”

Peter knew convincing you to forgive him was bad. He knew doing the opposite was for the best. To tell you to forget Peter. But he couldn’t. He had you right here. Like he used to.

“Things happen.” He shrugged. “What if he got robbed?”

“Wouldn’t you have helped him?” You replied, unimpressed.

“Oh. Well I did help a really handsome dude and he got robbed. Was he like an attractive guy or..?”

“He’s cute." You admitted.

Peter blushes under his mask. Though you had said more affectionate things to him before, apparently he still gets giddy.

"Well, I'm sure he didn't forget someone as pretty as you."

You let out a scoff. "Did you drop down next to me to take me home safely or be stupid?"

Under the mask, Peter had a huge grin. He was proud of you. Still the same in how you always know how to avoid trouble. He rarely ever had to save you. You were too smart. No stranger was safe from you, not even Spider-man.

"Sorry." He says cheekily.

You both eventually reach your apartment though Peter had to act oblivious that this was your home.

"This is me. Thanks Spider-man." You tug on a zipper from your bag, reaching for something in the bottom. Gummy worms

"I don't know if you take payments but uh, I was going to share these with my date. It's my lunch I forgot about. Don't judge."

Peter feels a pang of guilt hit his chest. "Th-thanks... you really don't have to." He slowly takes the bag.

"It's okay really."

Peter sighed. "Look, if that guy is actually stupid enough to ghost you, just call me."

"How do I call you?"

"Like this; SPIDER-MAN SPIDER-MAN AGHHH THAT IDIOT NEVER CALLED ME BACK!" Peter ran around in a circle mocking a girl's voice.

"And you'd help me from wherever you are?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I have pretty good hearing." Peter comically dusts off his shoulder.

"Alright man, no excuses. Even if you're fighting off a giant monster or something you have to help me."

"Something tells me I won't need to. Y'know? One of my powers is basically a gut feeling that's always right." Peter puffs up his chest proudly.

You let out an amused exhale. "You're a nerd. See ya." You went inside, waving without looking behind you.

"See ya." Peter says quietly. As soon as he saw you disappear around the corner, he zipped to the top of a random building.

"hey y/n, so so so so so so sodsdo sorry for ditching you. PLS FORGIVW ME!!! had family emergency. wanna meet tmrw???" Peter mumbled along as he typed, two gummy worms stored in the side of his cheek.

"I sound so lameee haha." Peter thought. He goes to delete but presses send.

"Man."

[orangerafe]

I don 't know why people are in a frenzy now over what's speculated to be Drew and Odessa under that umbrella in Aaron's photo dump; if you all read the room, it was apparent they were more than platonic from the jump, especially if they were seen exiting the same hotel in Paris back in January . Many people wanna insinuate that O is a lesbian who has a girlfriend . I guess them thinking it's Quen Blackwell or maybe Billie Eilish, but Quen said 2 years ago that Odessa had a boyfriend on a podcast . She mentionedhow her and O would go on double dates ,and how she was in love. During those times , O was seen with Drew a lot . Ifshe was in a relationship with someone else , why would that believed - to - be partner let Odessa share clothes with Drew , fly internationally just to see him ,and have no other friends involved , and be okay with that ? Wouldn't Drew deny the British Vogue article or Daily Mail one mentioning how him and O were in a relationship ? His own cousin was commenting on a TikTok video , claiming he had a girlfriend . This was the same cousin that was with him in Charleston at the obx4 premiere . Some little girl who was at the Tribeca Film Festival during O's premiere of Fresh Kills that O even follows claimed that O referred to Drew as her boyfriend . O doesn't treat Drew just like one of the guys . Although she may emasculate him and embarrass him ,they're emotionally attached to eachother and at the hip . It worked for them this long to never confirm them being together , otherwise they get more hate ,even worse than the backlash they received from Aaron's photo dump.Because Drew fans would crash out worse than Rudison fans when it comes to Rudy and Elaine . There were already fans threatening to unstan because of the umbrella photo . Drew deleted all traces of O off his page and turned off tags at a point because there were hate pages doxxing his family , sending him death threats , and going too far . Thosepeople make it unbearable for him to feel confident going through fully coming out and admitting what O is to him . He is hypersensitive and doesn 't know how to stand up for himself . O is pathetic to be okay with not having a title , and being allover him, or vice versa . It 's been going on for 4 years now . He 's living in Odessa's old apartment with Jesse . Shedrives his car . They share a Pomeranian dog , and all her friends have become his, and his have become hers . Drew isn't coming off Odessa no matter how bad she plays in his face , embarrassing him ,showing up to his . Premiere looking like a hobo and thenhaving to sneak into restaurants through the back door , or not be visible in public. Zero PDA . They are a shit show . Sheis still pursuing other women like Billie and Manon , and flirty with Quen . He isstill on Raya and following sex workers .These people are flawed and have faults the public may not see . People are so disillusioned with this fantasy . He 's Prince Charming when he's going out like a cuckold.

yall just read this because honestly it left me speachless. applaud this anon because they said it ALL. anon ily you explain lowk everything perfectly

[myboipotterimagines]

Golden Pt. 4 - Weasley Twins x Reader

Part 4 of Golden!! Thank you for all the love on part 3. This one is also some smut for you guys. Again, 18+, minors dni. Love you all. <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You had barely stopped panting when Fred finally woke up. A smile immediately lit up his face when he looked at you. "Morning," he drew out, his morning voice deep and groggy. "Morning, Freddie," you smiled, hoping he didn't notice the deep blush you felt burning into your face. "Ugh", George groaned. "Can you two keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep."

You could seriously hex him. He had made you moan his name and marked your body as his and he got to pretend that he was just sleeping. But you knew he still tasted of you and by the feeling of himself pressed into you, he longed for more.

You would not give it to him.

Instead, you moved towards Fred and pressed a gentle kiss onto his lips. He smiled into it. When you pulled away, his eyes set fondly on you. He placed a gentle kiss onto your forehead before standing. "I'm going to wash up. We can head to Hogsmeade after and get you some more comfortable clothes." "That sounds great," you smiled before watching him walk sleepily out of the door.

Guilt weighed down your chest as the door shut behind him. Fred had been nothing but doting from the moment he knew you were soulmates. Unlike his brother, you could even believe that he was happy to be your soulmate. "Aww, feeling bad he wasn't your first, princess?" George asked, still laying lazily in bed. Your cheeks reddened, though from anger or embarrassment you couldn't fully tell. "You're repulsive." He laughed, a deep full laugh. "You didn't think so a few hours ago."

Your jaw set as your stood, pushing yourself free from the entanglement of sheets around you. You would not put up with the taunts of George fucking Weasley.

The bathroom was just down the hallway. If the door had been locked, you might have just went back into the bedroom. But it wasn't locked. You turned the knob before you were even fully aware of the choice you were making.

"Can you give me a bloody minute, George?" Fred asked as you shut the door behind you. The bathroom had already filled with steam as Fred showered. "Not George," you spoke, voice smaller than you expected it to be. For a moment, all you could hear was the water pelting Fred's body. Then, he called out your name, his own voice in a state of shock.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing," you began to ramble. "I missed you and the door was unlocked and-" Then the water stopped and the towel hanging beside the shower was quickly pulled in. Your mouth was agape when he stepped out, only the towel covering his still wet body. "Did he do something to you?" "What-" "I feel like I can't apologize enough for him. You deserve better." His hand caressed your jaw, forcing your eyes to lock with his. He was so, so gentle. That was probably what you drop to your knees.

Your eyes didn't leave his as you gave the towel at his waist a gentle tug, fully exposing him. Your name graced his name once more, halfway between a hiss and a moan. "You don't have to do this just because I want it." You smiled up at him. "I want to, Freddie."

You took him into your hand first, though you didn't need to. He was hard in your hand, gentle moans already falling from his lips. "So good," he hummed as you moved around him. You could have happily watched him fall apart in your hand, but you wanted to taste him. A deep moan left his throat when you encased his tip in your lips, sucking it gently before encircling it with your tongue. "Fuck," he cursed beautifully, taking two handfuls of hair within his fist. He didn't push you to go faster or deeper, blissfully content with the way your mouth was starting to move up and down his cock. You were only able to take him halfway within your mouth comfortably, but would push him to the back of your throat every few strokes, wanting to feel his fullness.

He was a moaning, praising mess when you did. His cries did nothing to help tame your own desire, pushing you to take him deeper and faster each time. Each moan added to the pit in your stomach and your desire to let him take you right there on the bathroom floor. "I'm going to come," he warned you suddenly, fists tight in your hair. You didn't pull away, his words only causing you to go deeper. When you hit the base of his cock, it twitched fiercely, emptying his cum into the back of your throat.

You had barely swallowed when Fred pulled you to your feet, wrapping himself around you. You relaxed into his touch, burrowing your head into his shoulder, still wet from his shower. "Can I clean you up?" he asked softly. You only nodded, body suddenly spent.

Fred didn't bother turning the shower handle, opting instead to cast a wandless hex on the showerhead to dispense perfectly heated water. He did the same to remove your clothes. You let out a satisfied hum as you stepped into the hot water. Fred wordlessly worked shampoo through your hair, then conditioner. He left kisses down your body as the water washed the bubbles out. He called you beautiful every time he came up for air. He then applied soap to every inch of your body as he watched your blissed out smile.

Once he was finished, he just looked at you, a blissful smile making him even more beautiful than before. "You're perfect," he said, not an ounce of embarrassment in his words. You blushed fiercely. "I'm not." "You are. And I will hear no arguments."

He rushed to get you a change of clothes as you dried, returning with a new pair of sweats and a sweatshirt. When you returned to the bedroom you tried to ignore the look of shock when George noticed your wet hair.

***

Future Parts: Part 5

I hope you all liked this chapter! I gave the people what they wanted with more smut and fluff, but I fear there might be some angst coming up in a future update. Let me know what you all think!!

Taglist (sorry if I miss anyone): @rk-ceres @foji2000 @hazilyss, @f-e-222 @luthien-elvenia-asher @trashy-panda777 @rhunew @crossedskulls @shadowmoonlight0604 @mochiseni @jenniferpendragon @fonderaura @pyromaniac-fairy-of-water @theveiledlibrarian

[flamingpudding]

Part 3 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

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Feral brother of mine

When Damien first saw the video from Todd's helmet he only thought of his older brother as an imbecile that apparently couldn't handle children that was until Drake paused the video on the child's face before the video cut off.

Then Richard pointed out the similarities to Damien and of course his first thought was that his mother had made another clone again that they would need to dispose of. That was until he took a closer look at the image when Drake zoomed in. It was still blurry but Damien would recognise that face anywhere and in any state.

Despite his memory being faded it was the face of someone he never wanted to forget and would let freely hunt his dreams. Even if it was to recall the good times or even the bad times through nightmares. Freckles that mirrored constellations and scar by the ear from a training session when the others' dodging ability had not yet been up to par when they were five. Hair longer than his own and less tameable.

Danyal Al Ghul.

His twin that he killed at the age of eight when their grandfather forced them into a fight to death. This was not a simple clone of Damien himself and the teen was pretty sure that his mother must have lost it. Because what else then a clone of his own brother could this be, she probably must have preserved some of Danyal's DNA if not his entire body for this. He must also applaud her cruelty, for the clone was at the exact age his brother had died at.

He does not know why nor how his mother had managed to cause glowing Lazarus green eyes. None of his clones had ever shown these before but a part of him didn't want to know. It already made him sick enough to know that his mother would go so far as to clone Danyal.

All he wanted was to get rid of this cruel clone that wore his long dead brother's face. The knowledge of his brother was something Damien held dear. It was something that belonged to him only and the burden of his death was not something he ever wanted to share either. Besides what use would it be to his family to mourn a member they never would have gotten to meet.

Even as he glared at Todd, who had let loose the feral clone. He could not bring himself to tell them that this was most likely not just a simple clone of himself.

"Come on guys, there is a child running around the Bat Cave. You can fight later about how to safely keep the boy in check."

Clicking his tongue he turned away from his older siblings and drew out his katana. "<tt> I will get rid of that thing myself."

A thing, that was what it was. Damien didn't need his personal feelings or his memories of a twin that could smile brighter than the desert sun despite their pain, get in the way of his rationality. He could not allow this mockery of his twin brother to live on.

He went for the darker areas of the Cave knowing the league trained mind and he was in luck as he was the first to find the feral child hidden away in the area that lead to the medbay. By now the thing was even armed. Damien recognised the dagger as one of his training once, he probably had accidentally left it out of its casing after training right before patrol.

The ex-league prodigy did not give the clone time to react as he attacked without warning. Chasing it through the Bat Cave as it avoided his attacks yet made no move to attack him the way it had Todd. At times the way it dodged made Damien stutter slightly something that never happened before. He slashed at it, ignoring his siblings that shouted for him to stop from the side lines. Ignoring the flashes in his mind of a fight years ago that was similar yet so different.

"I will not let this mockery run free." He muttered pointing his blade as it hissed at him in return. What a feral thing it was, he waited for it to make the first move this time. Clones were not perfect, their forms were lacking, They might retain skills of their original but they rarely were the same let alone cable of thinking outside of what their creator, his mother wanted. He pointedly ignored anything he new about certain clones. They weren't created by his mother, therefore did not count in regards to his conclusion. Yet it was painful seeing this mockery of his dead brother appearing like a perfect copy.

The stance it held with the dagger, despite the feral hissing and movements, it was the exact same his brother had. Sword stances, like martial arts stances had a basic form, every wielder learned and then developed further into their own unique one with time. Danyal had one where he tended to hold the dagger or even swords backwards in his left hand while his right arm covered his empty side with a slight tilt to the back, always ready to reach for any weapon he would carry in hidden pockets on his back.

It was painful to see this clone, this thing mimicking his brother's stand this perfectly. Damien could only narrow his eyes in determination, or was it desperation by now? This was just one more reason to get rid of it. It just hurt even more when with a quick gaze towards the hand that held the dagger Damien also noticed a bad habit his brother had always retained and the league had also never been able to train out of him. It was a small habit, unnoticeable if you wouldn't look for it, yet dangerous to the sword / dagger wielder if they were inexperienced.

Danyal tended to let his thumb rest against the guard if the blade had one or against the blade itself even if it didn't have one. He knows that his twin used to have scaring on his thumb from this habit, especially from their early training years.

This thing was even imitating his brother's habit.

He wanted it gone. Rip it apart and present it to his mother with all the anger and grief it brought to him.

"Guys stop Damien now! That is not a clone!" He heard Drake yell from where the Batcomputer was but he didn't care. This was a clone, so he lunged at the it again. Ignoring how the clone had studied him like he had it. Ignoring how its stance had changed the longer they had watched each other and how that thing let its guard down all of a sudden.

"Damien! Stop!"

It dropped all defenses and Damien could only see that as his chance to deal the final blow to get rid of it. But what he didn't expect despite the dropped defenses was for the clone to also just drop the dagger, close its eyes and smile. The same smile that still hunted his nightmares. His mind flashed back to eight years ago.

"Demon brat! Calm the fuck down!"

The blade stopped inches from the same fatal placement that had killed his brother before. Drake and Richard were right behind him while Todd was by the clone's side gripping at the blade with his bare hands, most likely bleeding already.

"Why?" Damien uttered quietly, his eyes trained on the thing. Richard must have thought that his question had been directed towards them stopping him but that wasn't the case.

"Look Dami, how about listening to what Tim found out first before we decide what to do with that child?"

"Not you." He couldn't help but snap back at them as he withdrew his katana, hearing Todd mutter something about sharp blades and bandaids as well as several curses under his breath. His eyes stayed on the thing. "Why would you let me kill you? Why drop your defence ces? Why not dodge?"

The thing titled its head its glowing green eyes were trained on Damien and he noticed how they flickered into a blue that was so familiar yet so different with the way they glowed. It made chirping noises before it whispered something.

"ahbak, Dami"

Damien froze for a moment there at the quiet words the thing had whispered. How was he supposed to react now? Was this even a clone, no he knew this was a clone. There was no way Danyal was alive let alone still eight years old. He had killed his own brother, he had held him in his own arms as Danyal took his final breath, smiling at him and uttering the same words he had just heard again after so many years.

Even if Danyal had survived somehow then he should be the same age as him. Not the age he had died at. Besides, their grandfather would have never allowed them to use the pits to revive his twin.

"FUCK!"

Intentionally or not Todd's outcry had ripped him out of his thoughts by a rather pathetic yowl of pain. It was like a switch had been flipped in the clone's mind as his brother had reached out to probably detain it again. The moment Todd had touched him, the thing had bitten into his hand before letting go, hissing and running away from them once more.

But instead of running after that thing Damien stood frozen in place, his mind still racing. He could feel Richard's hands on his shoulders, grounding the teenager with the warmth they provided. "You okay there Baby Bird? You seem rather out of it suddenly."

"<tt> I am fine." His only offered answer, ignoring the worried looks he was getting as he moved to wipe Todd's blood off his blade. He needed a distraction before his mind became any more chaotic and unreasonable. "What did Drake find out?"

"Right… you sure you want to hear that right now?" Giving Richard an unimpressed stare, the oldest sighed looking over towards Drake.

"Well I got good news and probably bad news." Side eyeing his brother Damien kept silent waiting for him to continue.

"I can safely say that the child is not a clone. His DNA does not 100% match yours. It differs too much but - and this is where it's probably bad news - it matches with you to 45%, with a matching to Bruce to about 50%, same with Talia. If I run a paternity test I am sure it would be a hit for Bruce and Talia."

Damien swallowed taking in that information, knowing what it meant. Was he horrified? Yes. Did it also awaken a strange sort of hope? Also, Yes.

"But there was a third compartment of the child's DNA structure which was impossible to test. It could even corrupt DNA samples if not taken apart from the rest. It probably has something to do with the green specs I found in his blood too. So I ran a substance analysis and - you probably won't like this - but it got a hit from a substance we have recorded in our database."

"What substance?" Damien knew, he just knew he wouldn't like the next words Drake would say. He could feel Richard squeezing his shoulder as if to help him keep stable.

"Lazarus Water. It matched with what we have recorded from the Lazarus Pits."

"Drake, are you telling me that after eight years, my mother who apparently had preserved my dead twin brother's body, dropped said body into the Lazarus Pits to revive him and then drop him off with Todd of all people?"

"Yes, wait… dead twin brother's body?"

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you do the cullens with a mate who is a painter?

The Cullens with a Painter! Reader

I haven’t painted in YEARS omg, I moved to using my iPad a couple of years ago but I still remember the basics so here we go

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He’s also an artistic person

So he understands what drives you to create

His favorite thing to do is to play the piano while you paint

It just makes him feel so warm inside

He loves watching you paint as well

It’s so fascinating to watch what you see in your mind and then as you translate it onto the canvas

And he loves your artwork

He hangs it up all over the walls in his room

Genuinely thinks you should enter in a contest

Alice:

She loves your artwork so much

It’s so fascinating to her how you can just conjure up something so amazing

She also loves to buy you new paints and canvases

Every time she’s out buying new clothes or something she sees a new paint and she’s like “ooh that color’s pretty”

Keeps every single thing you make for her

Loves watching you work

She doesn’t care if she’s being creepy

She just loves you and wants to hang out

Jasper:

He’s fascinated and enamored by your emotional state when you work

He loves when you paint faces because your mind flickers to whatever emotion you’re trying to convey on the paper

It’s a very interactive experience for him

He almost likes tuning in to your mind more than your actual artwork

But he does obviously love your paintings

He does whatever you want him to

You need a life model? Well it’s a good thing he can stay still for hours

Want more paint? He already has his car keys in his hand

Rosalie:

She used to be really into painting and drawing

But she always thought she was bad at it so she just stopped

So when you come around she falls in love with it again

She wants you to teach her everything

She’s always hard on herself

She thinks her stuff is never as good as yours

But she loves painting with you

She can almost overlook her own hatred for her artwork

And yes she hangs up everything that you make in her garage

Emmett:

I don’t think he’s a very artsy person

Unless you want to call the fact that he can gut and skin a bear in less than 30 seconds an art form

But he can appreciate good art

So when he sees some of your paintings for the first time he is blown away

“You made these? Like actually? That’s so fucking sick”

Proudly displays anything you give him

You doodled on a paper during school and he stuck it in the front pocket of his binder

And he tells everyone who asks exactly where it came from

Esme:

She’s a painter

I don’t make the rules I just follow them

All of the artwork currently hanging up in the Cullen house is her work

And yes she’s very proud of the grad cap piece

So she is so excited when she finds out you also love to paint

Two peas in a pod

Painting dates are a must

And she is more than happy to take down some of her stuff to make room for yours

You don’t even need to ask

Carlisle:

I feel like he’s a jack of all trades

He’s been around long enough I sure hope he knows how to do everything at least a little bit

But he’s nowhere near as good as you

He’s so proud that his SO is such a talented artist

He convinces the clinic to hang up a couple of your pieces in the boring exam rooms

People compliment them all the time and he tells them exactly who made them

Don’t ever worry about buying art supplies ever again btw

Vampire! Bella:

I don’t remember if she ever drew during the books or movies, but she just screams art kid to me

She had a phase in middle school, thought she sucked so she stopped

So she’s astonished when she sees what you make

“I couldn’t make that even if Van Gogh himself taught me”

She loves watching you work

It’s so calming to her

If she could sleep, she would fall asleep watching you

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I read something that you said Scud liked to be recorded and I’m actually foaming at the mouth at the idea of that because it’s so real. I NEED a fic for that. So glad I found someone with a Scud obsession as bad as mine

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION

THE GOOD GOOD: FemDom!Reader x Sub!Scud, recording during sex, lots of teasing, and edging, bit of bondage, your much needed dose of pegging, and scud crying during sex, don't forget the hair pulling

GUYS I LOVE SCUD SO MUCH I ABSOLUTELY ADORE HIM MY PRECIOUS LITTLE ANGEL

I'm really trying to get my drafts cleared out LOL hopefully sometime soon I'll have a big major posting spree and then I can start working on my inbox

I HAVE SO MANY REQUESTS AUUUGH IDK WHY I LET THEM ALL PILE UP SOMEONE KILL ME

The idea of Scud being recorded is still my favorite because I feel like he'd be so nervous under the lens, trying to hide from it and not be seen but he'd still end up looking like a slutty pornstar (my precious pornstar)

also scud in lace. its been on my mind for I don't even know how long at this point.

You sighed as you walked down your complex's dingy, dimly lit hallway, silently hoping that Scud wouldn't be too mad at you for coming home so late into the night. After all, you had told him that you would only be about ten more minutes, but that had been almost an hour ago.

Things got a little out of hand, nothing you couldn't deal with sure but it was quite an inconvenience. A short, fifteen-minute task had easily turned into a full job, one that included running around the shop looking for spare parts. With what you had learned from Blade and Scud, it didn't take long to find all the little pieces you needed, and even a reward for yourself.

"Scud! I'm back! Look at what was in the shop" You called out to him when you jingled your keys in the lock and swung the front door to your apartment open, eagerly kicking off your shoes as you toyed with the little camcorder you had come across, flipping through the random pictures on it. There was no clear indicator of who's camera exactly, but you had always loved photography, so just one day with it wouldn't hurt anyone.

There was no response to your voice, the apartment barely lit and quiet, soft thumping coming from you and Scud's shared bedroom. He was probably playing on his PS2 with his headphones in, loud music blasting at levels you’ve already scolded him for.

As you padded through the cozy living room, you pointed your camera at random things and took little cameos of them, making your way down the short and narrow hall towards the room where you could see some of the orange lighting spilling out through a crack in the door.

You approached, about to call out Scud’s name once again as the soft thumping faded into a rhythmic beat, a Lady Gaga track when you finally stopped short in front of the door, pushing it open a bit and poking your head through, combing hair out your eyes as your mind drew a blank, greedily taking in the sight in front of you.

Scud was in fact not playing on his game system, but rather prancing around the cozy room what he didn’t know was your very expensive lingerie set. An all-white, delicate full ‘angelic’ lingerie set. A satin ruffle top with a waist-high lace garter belt that clipped onto the white mesh fishnets, all paired with lacy underwear that had a large bow on the back, topped with a fair-sized opening that revealed a large portion of his dumb butt.

You had originally bought it to surprise your boyfriend a few months back, but you had both gotten so overcrowded with work that it slipped your mind, collecting a thin layer of dust somewhere you weren’t even sure where you had put it. Scud always got curious about your things when he was rocket-high, digging through things and asking a million and one questions. Now here he was, looking pretty as ever swaying his hips around in the bedroom, mumbling along to the current track playing.

You found yourself flipping the camcorder's small screen open and resting against the door frame as the device started to record, capturing Scud’s fluid movements as he obliviously danced around, brown curls falling sweetly in his face, and skin glowing orange from the multiple sources of warm light in the room.

He really did look like an angel, his broad body looking much more supple and soft, legs long and lean, hips wide and divine. A walking, talking piece of pure eye candy, reserved for your eyes and only your eyes. Guess this camera just found itself a new owner.

Scud spun around on his heels and toes, once, twice, before he stopped, eyes focusing on the small little red dot, flickering up to meet your gaze and feeling his entire exposed body heat up in embarrassment.

“W– Wha– How– How long– Hello– ” Scud sputtered, completely frozen in place as he stared at you.

You, who was now fully entering the bedroom, “Don’t stop now, I barely got any footage” placing your free hand on his small waist and dipping fingers under the fabric of the garter. A smile tugged your lips as you started taking in the entirety of your boyfriend's body up close, his skin soft and hot under the tips of your fingers. “Y– You’re re-recording me?” He knew the answer, but hearing it from you verbally just made a chill run down his spine, and his cock twitch.

“Does that make you nervous love?” Your fingers trailed up his scarred chest, brushing across the lose ruffled top and grazing his nipples, a small whine coming from Scud as he dipped down in order to hide his face, but you wouldn’t let him. “Look at me” You said as you lifted his head up by the chin, forcing his gaze onto yours.

Scud lightly whimpered, desire burning in his gut as you brushed hair out his face, fingers dancing along his skin. He felt exposed under the camera’s lens, so much of his raw and bare skin visible to the naked eye. Your gaze on his body made his cock throb.

“What do I always tell you about playing in my stuff?” You said in a condescending tone, teasing the tips of your fingers down his textured belly.

Scud shivered at your touch as goosebumps prickled his skin, a strained grunt coming from him as his face flushed. “N– not without mommy’s permission”

You slowly walk around him, taking in his full body in the set. “Don’t touch mommy’s things without permission. That’s a rule, right?” You murmur as you stop recording to take a picture of Scud’s ass, definitely filling out the panties better than you could.

“Yes…” He mumbles, and it almost comes out like a squeak. His cock aching with need and his stomach with embarrassment, heart pounding from a combination of nerves and weed.

You brush your lips against the skin of his shoulder, slipping fingers under the waistline of the lace undies. “So can you explain to me why said rule is broken?”

A whimper broke past Scud's lips as your fingers teased and explored his exposed skin, squeezing his hips and tracing scars. "I just– I just found it under the bed and didn't know what it was" Scud stumbled out, heart thumping in his chest as your hands covered more ground on his body, circling around to his back.

"Mhm?" You hummed, tracing your finger up his spine. He let out a moan as chills ran through his core, trembling under your touch as he could feel goosebumps explode across his skin. "Well, do you know what it is now?"

Scud nodded frantically at your words, "Yes! Yes– I know now" quivering as he spoke.

With one hand on his waist, the other still holding the camera, you guided him to the edge of the bed and pushed his upper half down onto the mattress, smiling softly to yourself as you eyed Scud's new position through the lens.

Click! Click!

The electric snap of the camera made Scud feel fuzzy and warm, slightly embarrassed, and very exposed. His skin was flushed a light red, some areas more blushed than the others. From where his cock was confined in the small panties, he was completely pulsing, throbbing with pure need in his gut.

"Do you also know not to break the rules?" You questioned, flipping through the few shots you had taken before moving your attention to the small walk-in closet, crouching down and reaching inside a box.

Scud whined into the soft comforter when you returned behind him, his socked feet barely reaching the rug between them. He could hear the small beep of the camera as you pressed your front to his bottom, a yelp coming from him when your palm made contact with his exposed cheek. "I asked, so answer"

"Y– Yes! Not breaking the rules is a rule" He whimpered, a shudder running through him as his skin tingled.

You smiled at his words as you caressed his side, squeezing his waist and hip slightly. "Good. Very good. So don't you think you deserve a punishment?"

Scud didn't respond, but he nodded his head, hiding his face the best he could behind his hair. You pushed the strands back and cooed at his cherry-red face, tiny whines coming from him as he squirmed under the camera's lens, jerking his hips slightly as he rutted against the edge of the bed.

Your hand made contact with his cheek again, a choked-off groan coming from his throat at your palm. "Words."

"Y– yes ma– ma'am..." He stuttered, trembling slightly with anticipation. It wasn't often that Scud got punished, even with as bratty as he was, so his cock was totally aching just thinking about whatever vile shit it was you were thinking about doing to him.

And you were thinking of doing some quite horrid things.

Teasingly, you ran your hand over the opening in his panties, prodding your finger at his puffy rim. A suppressed shudder traveled through him as his cock twitched, his hole fluttering at your air-light touch. You softly cooed at how needy he was, smiling to yourself as you single-handedly took off your shirt and tossed it on the floor somewhere to be picked up later.

From the box in your closet, you had pulled your strap set, a pair of cuffs, and a long vibrator that you had been wanting to test out for a little while.

Cuffing Scud's hands behind his back with only five fingers was a bit of a challenge, but an easy one. He squirmed a little as you did it, wiggling his fingers as his wrists adjusted to the new sensation of the cuffs.

You shuffled around behind him, cursing softly as you knocked a few things over before tossing a bottle of lube along with the rest of your toys, pressing yourself against Scud as you leaned down near his ear, breath feather-light and hair tickling his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, and you could hear his pulse in his neck thumping.

“Just how should I punish you?” You murmur, trailing your lips against his ear lobe and teasing the skin with the very tip of your tongue.

“Maybe I should spank you ‘til it hurts to sit,” You run your free hand down to his ass and give it a slap for emphasis, followed by a squeeze just cause.

“Or maybe I could tie up those cute balls and see just how long it takes for you to pop” You hum, nibbling on Scud’s ear and tugging it with your teeth until you dropped it with an idea lingering in mind.

“Or," You said as you pulled away from him. "I could just leave you here by yourself” You smirked, watching Scud’s face twist in horror.

“No! No– please no” He pleaded as he squirmed on the bed, hips jerking in a desperate search for relief, cock painfully hard and throbbing. “Need a punishment, need mommy to punish me” Scud blabbed, his body trembling as his eyes darted from your face to the camera's lens, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

“But how should I punish you?” You teasingly coo, combing some of a Scud’s bangs out one of his eyes as you smiled softly at him. “I could smoke our whole stash right in your face”

Scud groaned, “Please don’t” squeezing his legs as arousal burned hot in his gut. “I’m really sorry mommy, I– I’ll do anything”

“Oh, I know you will. Just stay still for me ‘kay?” You pushed yourself back up to your full height, pausing your recording to swap out the camera for the bottle of lube, shaking it slightly before uncapping it and squeezing out more than enough of the clear liquid onto Scud's puffy rim, watching the shiver that ran through him as the cold sensation rolled down to his sensitive balls.

You scooped it up with your two fingers and easily slid them inside Scud, a soft moan coming from him as he clenched around you, almost instantly pushing back in search of more. "Such a greedy little hole, you just wanna be fucked so badly don't you?"

Scud whined and squeezed his slick walls around your digits, "Yes! Want mommy to fill me up so bad, need her so bad" rubbing his face against the soft comforter as he could feel it burning hot.

"Don't worry baby boy, we're gonna get you all nice 'nd full right now" You spoke sweetly to him as you picked up the camera with one hand and the vibrator with the other, resuming your recording as the toy harshly rumbled to life after the click of a button. Without wasting a second, you watched as the buzzing wand glided into Scud with zero resistance, pressing it directly against his sweet spot and causing him to loudly sputter, blabble, and cry out nonsense as the sudden vibration traveled through his entire nervous system, cock throbbing with the uncontrollable urge to cum.

Scud sobbed around his loud moans, choking out gasps when you started to quickly thrust the toy in and out, each hard bump to his now very sensitive prostrate only sent him closer to the edge, hands twitching and pulling where they were restrained as his body spasmed, heaving as his heart started to pound in his chest the harder and harder you fucked him, hips jerking down into the mattress as he tried to pathetically chase his rapidly building orgasm, a burning pleasure coursing through the entirety of his body before–

You swiftly pulled the toy out of him right as he was about to topple over the edge, a confused, strangled whimper tearing from his throat as his poor hole needily clenched around nothing, so full and pleased just a split second ago and now suddenly empty and crashing down from the way you abruptly ruined his orgasm.

“Sorry, my hand slipped” You mumbled, obviously not sorry at all as you teased his fluttering hole with the toy, capturing all your torturous movements through the little camera lens.

The cuffs rattled as Scud whined and squirmed at the contact against his sensitive skin, trying his hardest to push back onto the vibrator while also jerking his hips away from it. He was so high, so hot and sweaty as he heaved from where he was on the bed, shaking as you tauntingly dragged the toy up from his slick balls to his drenched rim, only ever applying the slightest amount of pressure.

It made him push his hips back in desperation, letting out a surprised yelp when you smacked him with the toy, tutting your lips as you shook your head, placing the camera down and positioning it to capture Scud's hidden face, forcing his head up by roughly yanking a fistful of hair.

He whined as a shiver ran down his spine, trembling as his eyes nervously darted away from the lens, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being recorded in such an exposed state. His cock was still painfully aching, whole body throbbing uncontrollably from your early treatment.

Scud made tiny little whimpers when you started to tease his hole again with the toy, his hips twitching as he tried not to jerk them back, desperate and craving to be filled up again. His gut ached with arousal, cock leaking painfully where it was confined in the small panties.

"P– Please fuck me, please mommy" He begged as you dipped your head down and started nibbling at his bare shoulder, teasing the skin of his hip with your fingers.

You blew on his ear as you ran the length of the vibrator up his slick crack, a keen noise pulling out his throat as his hole fluttered in anticipation. "Is this what you want pretty boy? To be stuffed like a dumb slut?"

Scud whined at your words, nodding his head and hiding his face shyly behind his hair, jumping slightly when you tightly gripped his jaw, lifting his head once more and dropping it to pick up your camera.

"You're so cute when you're nervous" You said to him as you smooshed your cheek against his, pointing the lens at the both of you and snapping a few pictures, Scud's face red and embarrassed as the flash flickered, electric shutter ringing in his ears.

Scud huffed slightly as his socked toes brushed the rug beneath him, kicking his feet impatiently as need and heat burned through his veins. He whined softly when you pulled away from him entirely, leaving the camcorder pointed at him to capture his facial expressions when you suddenly shoved the entirety of the vibrator back into him, a loud and shaky moan tearing from Scud's throat as the toy easily slid into him, almost yelling when it buzzed to life against his sensitive walls.

His hands curled into one another where his arms were stretched behind his back, yet immediately scrambled to wrap around your wrist when you trailed fingers up his spine, his fingers twitching and trembling as they latched onto you, incoherent mumbles leaving Scud's lips.

As you started to properly fuck him with the toy, quickly thrusting it in and out as he tensed up at the sensation, shuddering as his jaw went slack and he started to desperately yet sloppy push back against your movements, toes curling into the carpet as you shoved the vibrator right into his sweet spot, stars dancing in his eyes and coursing through his body.

"I bet that feels so good huh pretty boy? Gonna cum aren't you?" You taunted as you fucked him quicker with the silicone toy, watching the way he had started to twitch and squirm, his whimpers and cries starting to increase in volume. Scud tried to respond to your questions, but his words only came out as a garbled mess.

It earned a small laugh from you, pressing yourself up against him and dipping your head down to attack his neck, running your tongue over his pulse, and feeling his heart race under the muscle. "Didn't quite catch that" You murmured into his ear, slowing down your movements as you searched for Scud's sweet spot, a broken sob tearing from his lips when you found it. "Yes," He gasped, trembling underneath you as he heaved for air, clumsily stuttering out his words. "Wanna cum so bad, want mommy to make me cum"

Scud tugged and pulled at his restraints as he choked back cries, clumsily pushing back against your movements desperately as he chased after his rapidly building orgasm, babbling brainlessly. He could feel the buzzing sensation in his toes, all the way up to his teeth, it made his head foggy and his jaw go slack, not sure if the high he was greedily riding was from the weed or sheer pleasure, but it had him on cloud nine either way.

Each thrust brought him closer and closer, so close he could practically taste it. A needy, broken whimper came from his chest as his body twitched against you, small pleas starting to fall from his lips as his untouched cock throbbed from his burning climax, lungs running out of air as his body started to tense up, standing right on the edge and about to fall down face first when you yanked the toy right out of him again, Scud whining and basically sobbing in protest as his hole uncontrollably clenched down around nothing, heavy groans leaving him as his body struggled to recover from the way you completely denied him again.

"Oh Please, please mommy, please" Scud sobbed as his body felt so empty and used, desperately craving the relief that he needed so badly.

You shut the toy off and tossed it down on the bed, taking hold of the camcorder and stopping your recording, snapping a few pictures of how utterly destroyed Scud was, face soaked with his tears and drool as he weakly rutted his hips in search of any type of pleasure. He whimpered softly at the flash of light, feeling exposed and nude under the lens.

"It's okay Scud, you've been doing so well for me. Momma's gonna make you feel so good" You murmured comfortingly into his ears as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, pushing your body up off his and leaving the camera on the bed. Scud still whined out in protest as your body heat left his, leaving him cold and lonely. His heart started to soar and quickly pick up speed when he heard the familiar sound of your strap buckling together, small mutters and curses coming from you as there was a slight struggle.

It wasn't long before you reappeared behind Scud, this time pressing your cock against him. Anticipation sparked to life in his tummy as you dragged the silicone through his slick, unable to help himself from pushing back against you with tiny little sounds. He needed it so bad that his body was practically begging for release, involuntarily twitching.

Scud was so close to an absolute breakdown, whimpering and mumbling incoherently as you finally started to push in at a tauntingly slow pace, the lube helping to make it an easy glide and blissful stretch. His head dropped down onto the mattress as sparks flew up his spine, so understimulated that even the slightest of touch would probably send him tipping over the edge.

You readjusted your camcorder with one hand and the tightly tangled the other in his hair, yanking his head back up to be captured in the lens, giggling at the groan that left Scud’s lips. “Come on pretty boy, keep your head up for momma”

“Need– Need it–“ Scud started to babble, head totally clouded and overworked as he desperately jerked his hips, rocking them back and forth to get any type of stimulation at all, trembling like a leaf on a branch when he felt the tip of your strap finally, finally jab right into his tender and used sweet spot, knees buckling between him as he involuntarily squeezed your wrist tightly, nails digging into the flesh as the orgasm his body had been begging for completely took over, loud and broken sobs leaving Scud’s lips as his untouched cock throbbed and pulsated, cumming right in the lace panties of the lingerie set.

The fact that you captured that on camera almost made your mouth water, and you cooed at Scud when he went ragdoll in your hold, stroking his side to give him some comfort as he slowly came back down to earth. “Oh, you poor little thing. Did I tease too much?”

Scud could barely even muster out words, breathing into the mattress as his body twitched, small grunts and whimpers coming from him your hand in his hair kept his head upright and his face vulnerable, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

“Or, did I not tease you enough?” You murmured the question softly in his ear, moving to grab a fist full of hair from the front and gripping his cuffed wrists, yanking both backward as you took a step forward to shove the entirety of your cock into Scud, who could almost taste the pleasure coursing through him. A choked sob tore itself from his throat, eyes darting frantically between the wall and camera lens as it felt like pure heaven burned it’s way up his spine, hands twitching and curling in on themselves under your grip.

It was arguably the best he’s ever felt in days, weeks even. When you started to relentlessly and mercilessly slam into him, each thrust going right to his core and sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, lips glossy and slick with spit as he drooled from the mouthwatering pleasure.

“You’re just so, so cute Scud. I can’t wait to watch our little movie over and over and over again” You said as you tilted his head to the side by his hair, biting down harshly on the flesh of his already bruised and marked neck, a shriek pulling its way out his chest as all five of his senses were at a complete overload, skin flushing a deep red when he felt your teeth blissfully break skin. It was all so overwhelming, the wet glide of your cock slipping in and out against his tender velvety walls was simply too much for his mind to be able to comprehend, hips jerking as his second orgasm built up rapidly, like a can of soda that had been shaken up and was just waiting for someone to pop the tap.

He heard the sound of the cuffs clicking off before he felt the fuzzy material sliding off his wrists, your hands finding his and intertwining your fingers together, pinning his hands down on the mattress to fuck him with all the womanly strength left in you, sending the silicone as deep and hard into your angelic boyfriend as your body would possibly allow for. Scud’s head involuntarily dropped right down onto the blankets, whimpers and broken moans tumbling past his lips as he tightly squeezed your fingers, so close to the edge that this time he really could taste it.

“Please momma, please, please– fuuck, please” Scud helplessly babbled, needily pushing back to meet your thrusts as he was so fucking close, so close that he’d almost do anything just to cum, not that there was much to do considering he was already crashing down the hill, just needing a few more rough thrusts of your hips before his tap was finally popped, an explosion of fizzy stickiness exploding right in his gut, his second orgasm spilling right into the already soiled underwear, seeping through and dripping down onto the floor.

Scud went totally limp where he laid face down on the bed, breathing heavily as he twitched and tried to come down from such an earth shattering high, whining softly when you pulled out.

Tiny kisses were planted all over his face, neck, and shoulders, you gently brushing his hair out his face and unsticking it from his sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

Scud nodded, with his eyes half-lidded and a content smile tugging at his lips. “Mhmm”

“Did you learn your lesson?” You asked, pulling the bra strap and letting it snap against Scud’s flesh, a small grunt leaving him as his skin burned. “Yes ma’am…” He grumbled out, feet dangling off the bed.

You smiled softly, kissing him right below his eye. “Good baby. Now let’s get you all squeaky clean and cozy for bed, then we can find a way to put our special show on the TV for only our eyes to see” You said with a hint of mischief in your tone, reaching for the camcorder and stopping your recording once and for all.

Whoa. Did Norman fucking reedus just fucking finish something. Did Normam fucking reedus just post something. Whoa. How crazy even is that.

ANYWAYS 😝 yes guys I still love Scud he's still my angel boy and be always will be I love the part of the fic where my peenar goes inside his body thats the best part hands down I love to fuck men with my lady peenar

One fic at a time guys 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I have a few others that eeerm should get posted soon… dont get your hopes up (because mine are already up and that's a problem)

IF YOU SEE TYPOS NO UOU DONNNT 😭 MY GRAMMARLY IS ON MY COMPUTER AND THE APP IS GARBAGE ON MY PHONE PLEASE STOP THIS MADNESS

I was gonna end this with the cam corder MaGiCaLlYy disappearing 👁️ but that's for another fic 🙂‍↕️ (that ill end up never writing)

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 7 all chapters

I knew the pleasure of vexing and soothing him by turns; it was one I chiefly delighted in.

–Jane on Mr. Rochester, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

-It's no real mystery, why you dig out your beloved old copy of Jane Eyre. From the early 1900s, it had seen better days when you’d scored it in the local used book store, many years ago. You’d been a teenager then—and those days were long behind you. It seems you never outgrew your liking of a dark and broody anti-hero.

It’s safer to read about it though, than pursue the real thing.

Lately every time Mr. Wick comes into the shop you feel slightly agitated, as though you don’t quite fit into your own skin. You remember the sensation of his fingertips on yours, like a burn.

Mr. Wick sees you reading your tattered novel on your break, but doesn’t comment. You’ve seen him with old classics in hand and reckon he must be something of an aficionado.  

You put it away in your shoulder bag in the back after the break.

The next day, it’s gone.

You know you left it in your bag. Where the fuck could it have gone? Why would someone fucking steal it?

A couple of weeks later, it reappears on the counter by the register you favor.

You hardly recognize it at first, for it has received an encompassing makeover. It has new leather covers with gorgeous embossed gold lettering, and marbled end papers, and the tattered thread of the binding repaired. There are gilded arabesques on the spine and delicately drawn climbing flowers on the cover. You wouldn’t have even thought it the same book, if not for the intricately printed title page unique to your edition, with an old pencil mark in the corner you recognize.

Such a restoration would have cost a fortune.

You knew, because you’d looked into it.  

Further compounding the mystery, there is a beautiful jacquard embroidered ribbon bookmark inside. It’s on the page where Rochester has sat Jane down in the arbor, and is telling her that she has rejuvenated him from his unhappy existence without actually admitting anything, asking in the most roundabout way possible if it would be so very bad to take a second wife who would make him a new man, while his first is still living, the big idiot.

“Is the wandering and sinful, but now re-seeking and repentant, man justified in daring the world’s opinion, in order to attach to him for ever this gentle, gracious, genial stranger, thereby securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?”

Jane tells him, of course, that a man shouldn’t base his redemption on another person, but within himself. You are not sure you would have had the strength to speak so frankly to a man you secretly loved.

Well, maybe you would.

You are utterly mystified by the whole thing, to say the least.

But later, you are browsing the local book store, and the owner is reading Anna Karenina in what looks like freshly bound leather. The style looks familiar.

“Did you have that restored?” you ask, feeling like Nancy Drew hot on the trail of a fresh lead.

“Yeah, that new guy in town, John Wick did it for me. He says he’s just a hobbyist, but he does amazing work. Usually you have to send off to Florence for quality like this, seriously. It’s a dying art.”

Darren lets you look at the book, and you are impressed by the craftsmanship.

The spine decoration matches yours. There is a plate in the back that proclaims: Bound by John Wick.

The sneak.

You are touched to the tips of your toes, your heart filled with butterflies. Was the bookmark purposely left on that page, or just a random placement?

You hardly dare hope, and tell yourself it’s an invention of your own fancy. The gift of the book is magnificent enough. No need to further muddle things with secret communications that aren’t really there.

The next day you approach Mr. Wick’s table with hands on your hips, affecting annoyance. “You stole my book.”

He actually has the grace to look sheepish about it, casting those lovely dark eyes downwards.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks. I really love it.” It’s the understatement of the century.

He looks up through his hair, the surprised sparkle in his eyes taking your breath away. Suddenly, he looks ten years younger.  

“Yeah?”

The corners of your mouth twitch. This man speaks like he’s paying five cents per word, you swear. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me you bind books?”

He just shrugs, and you cannot help but laugh.

“I’ve never owned anything so fine. Thank you, truly.”

 He nods again, and you sense that you’re maybe making him uncomfortable with your gratitude. You suspect it’s not why he did it at all.

“Will you show me sometime? How you do it?”

There is a flash of something dark in his eyes before he turns his attention back down to his own book. It feels like dismissal, but you have no idea what he’s hiding underneath it all.

Still waters run deep.

“Anytime you want,” he offers as you turn to go.  

You smile at him over your shoulder as you go back to your station, a secret lightness fluttering in your heart. On your break you flip through your refurbished book once more, taking even more pleasure in it knowing that John poured over every detail of it. You don’t know much about bookbinding or leather work, but you suspect he freehanded the little flowers on the front, and that moves you to your toes.

You flip to one of your favorite scenes because you find it so funny, when Jane puts out the fire that nearly burned Rochester up in his sleep, because undoubtedly he’d drank too much earlier to easily rouse, the lovesick scoundrel. Afterwards he doesn’t want her to leave but can’t outright keep her in his room without behaving an absolute blackguard.

“Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look.”

You cannot help but glance up at your tall dark bookworm in the corner, an aching warmth spreading in your heart for the sight of his furrowed brow, his concentration (you think) focused on the tome in his hands.

You know you are a ridiculous thing.

[novalpha]

𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Buy A Boyfriend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Summary: Being a professional boyfriend on SVTHub is great - all Vernon has to do is respond to a few texts, send out a couple selfies, do a stream every now and then, and he makes enough to cover tuition. Things get a little tricky when he finds himself wishing he actually was your boyfriend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ By hook or by cross ♡୨୧★ -> @kabira

summary — so you punched a guy, and now he wants you to teach him how to fight, because clearly, you know how to do it better. well, fine, you say. as long as he keeps his distance. (spoiler alert: he doesn’t.)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ divorce child ♡★ -> @lovelyhan

summary: you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cold hands, Warm hearts ♡ -> @duhnova

synopsis: this holiday season, your daughter decided the best present she could give to you was a new boyfriend, which is why she and her best friend yujin have taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. their candidate? yujin’s father.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Operation : Hot girl summer ♡✹★ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ the summer you started putting more effort into your appearance also happens to be the summer where vernon chwe's piercing gaze leaves you feeling like you're floating high up in the clouds.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Not a virgin ♡✹★ -> @ncteez

Vernon, a friend of your friend spills his spicy sex life and accidentally reveals to an entire group of near-strangers (including you) that he’s had sex one and a half times and that it was sick.

or the one where despite vernon not being a virgin, he is somehow more of a virgin than an actual virgin. 

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ High and fucked ★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: hansol is nothing to you but your ex-boyfriend's roommate, but you still find yourself alone with him while you get high together

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Risk it all ★ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Vernon's got a crush on his tutor, and everything gets harder when you start wearing thigh high socks. Everything.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The soulmate service ♡✹୨୧ -> @dkfile

the soulmate service has one purpose: to help those who drew the short end of the stick and ended up without a person to live their forever with. after the heart wrenching realization that the boy you’ve loved since you were thirteen isn’t the one meant for you, you put your love life in the hands of vernon chwe — which, now that you think about it, is probably a very bad idea.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Work husband ♡✹ -> @wondernus

synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teacher is inevitable especially when he pays for your groceries and calls himself your work husband

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Trillium ♡★ -> @beahae

Summary: Vernon is flying in to see his girlfriend. Oh shit, that’s… you. Being away from him for the past few months ago makes it hard for it to feel real, especially after two years of what you both convinced yourselves was a purely platonic friendship. Now that he’s here in the flesh, you are determined to make it feel real. And very non-platonic.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say you love me (i love you) ♡✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: three heavy words. you’re so used to saying this to the one person that’s always been by your side, because you know that he’s your other half; platonically. these words have always held some sort of meaning whenever you say it to vernon, in hopes that maybe one day he’ll say it back to you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Distraction ♡✹★ -> @minghaoyoudoin

summary: typically, when a person’s house smells like fire, you call the fire department. when your house smells like fire, you know it’s because Vernon is cooking.

[ More Vernon fic recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

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Chapter 10

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: slight blood, mention of past self-harm (biting thumb on purpose), accidental self-harm(? + biting thumb without meaning to, biting lip hard enough to make lip bleed without meaning to), mention of injuries (thumb, bruised knees, knee injury from falling off a bike with a rock lodge into it because of horrible luck), near panic attack(s), one or two (1 or 2) suggestive lines but not for sexual gratification,  Zac making fun of the Reader in the stereotypical sibling way, Reader is NOT having a good time, slight sadistic themes, implied/slight themes of possessiveness and obsessiveness from Dion, Dion sucks at causal and healthy communication do not be like him. Please tell me if I missed any. 

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIOR THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOeGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI. 

NOTE: work got canceled due to snow so I was able to work on this for almost an entire day (5pm to 11:38 pm at the time of writing this).

= = =

“What happened here?” 

His tone is demanding for an answer, not asking for one. His grip is tight and you can’t help but wince as he squeezes it further. Should you answer him? Or change the topic?

Lie or tell the truth? 

Hide or stay?

Gulping, you weakly try to pull your hand back, averting your gaze as your voice disappears. 

You hate the color of his eyes, they remind you of the blood you drew from your own person hours ago. You hate the blackness of his hair, it reminds you of the last time you closed your eyes in your previous life. You hate his figure, it makes you feel small. 

“I accidentally cut it on a letter your mother gave me.” Mentally cringing as you both lie and bring up Maria’s little ‘gifts,’ you offer an answer. A fake one, but an answer regardless. The question is, would he believe it? Or rather, accept it?

“Bad enough for it to be wrapped up?” 

The answer is no.

“Yes. You don’t realize just how sharp paper can be.” When you wearily look at him again, you’re met with an expressionless face. Eyes that hold no joy nor sorrow nor anger. Lips drawn in a relaxed line as he just stares. It’s scary. He’s scary.

Did your mother and sister give you advice for a situation like this…?

Ah, but how could you go against a man who’s hand easily closes around your wrist?

…you could offer yourself, but… 

Your husband’s eyes leave your face and travel to your thumb, his pointer finger tapping where your nail would be. Just how long are his fingers…? 

The question quickly leaves your mind as he slightly bends, free hand tangling itself in your hair as he holds the back of your head. Eye to eye, you fear that the grim reaper is just around the corner, heartbeat loud enough that he could probably hear it. Your hand starts to jerk uncontrollably as your body shudders. 

“Then unwrap it. If it’s just that, then it’s nothing to hide.” 

“...wha… it’s - it’s late - why don’t we just sleep…? You look tired. Really tired.” Just as you practiced, you offer a smile, a wavering one, but a smile regardless. You pull your hand again and this time he releases it. Rubbing your poor wrist with your left hand, body shaking as he continues to stare you down, still holding the back of your head. 

Still in close proximity. 

His gloved hand cups your cheek, and instead of a fluffy feeling you’re met with terror, lips quivering as your smile fades away. Eyes shaking in their sockets, head slightly shaking side to side, bruised knees that seemed to remember they were injured in the first place. 

The pain meds you took twice wore off. 

Your thumb and knees start to ache as your breathing becomes shallow. You should run. 

You should run.

“You’re crying again,” he wipes away a tear that nearly rolls down your cheek with his thumb. You’re crying? Since when?

“...let go…please.”

You beg and your lungs only relax when he does as you plead, but not before swiping your bottom lip with his thumb. But the fear doesn’t leave you. Your survival instincts are still telling you to run. Your injured body parts still dully ache. 

Dion stands tall once more, watching you, his wife, fall apart mentally as you fail to collect yourself. You don’t break down crying but tears still form. They blur your vision. 

“I heard that Hana gave you pain medication. Twice. Was the cut that bad?” 

Your mind lags, not understanding his words. It catches up a minute later, slowly nodding your head ‘yes.’ Questions and thoughts swirl in your mind, blinking as he asks you this. 

Did Hana tell him? 

Did he ask her?

Maybe she was obligated to inform him the moment he returned.

Or maybe she was spying on me after all. 

“I’m…weak to pain. You - you know that…” Your throat is parched as you answer him meekly. Your skin becomes damp from sweat and cold, fingers and toes curling the longer he keeps up the integration. For fucks sake, were you his wife or prisoner? 

“I’d imagine that losing your virginity is a different type of pain.” 

“I-it doesn’t change the fa-fact I’m weak to it… oh, where, um, did the blood come from?” A weak and stupid attempt to change the topic, tilting your head as your eyes zone in on the blood splatter on his cheek. It’s a miracle that you haven’t lost your mind by now. 

That you’re able to talk without becoming a total mess. 

You prefer the perverted Dion from the night before yesterday compared to this Dion who does nothing but integrates  you.

How funny. 

“Work.” Is all he says before wiping it off with the back of his hand. It only serves to smudge red across pale skin. “Where did the bruises on your knees come from?” 

How… How did he know about that? 

Oh -! Right. Hana saw them after checking your body once she noticed you limping. You lied about how you got them - merely acting out your wifely duties, as you told her, unable to make eye contact. She must have thought that the puffy eyes were from the disgust you felt the second you woke up.

She probably told him. 

“I-I… fell off the bed while asleep.”

“That hard? And perfectly on your knees?” 

Why was he questioning you? To further your suffering, face grave as seconds go by? To enjoy how your body stiffens which each word that leaves his mouth? To tear you apart, to see what makes you tick, to see how far he could push you until you lose your mind?

…yes to all of them. 

He was an Agriche. 

“You left… bruises on my hips… they’re still healing. It’s not odd to assume I bruise easily after that.” Unable to keep eye contact, you look past him, at the doors. Could you outrun him? No. But if you try, would he let you?

No. Not when the look he gave you upon entering the room spelled out imprisonment for your future. But for how long?

Your husband has different thoughts.

Dion considers lifting up the blanket, shoving up the hem of your nightgown to see the purple blobs on your knees himself. He also considers taking your hand and forcibly unwrapping the bandage around your thumb to see if it really was a cut caused by paper… or rather, to expose your lies.

Ah, but when you look at him like, like a rabbit shivering in front of the predator like the prey it is, how could he? It should have been a nice sight. Encourage him to take a bite like how he was trained to. 

But it’s hard when it’s you. 

He scowls. The facial expression makes you shudder with dread, thinking he’s mad at you. In reality it’s because he’s disgusted with himself - this isn’t acceptable. He’s too soft with you. 

He craves for your gentleness while installing fear into you, be it intentional or not. 

The night before yesterday had you both acting out of character. True feelings out in the open only to be canned the next day. The cycle always repeats as such. A cycle you’re unaware of and one he can’t forget. 

Even so, he can’t help but be gentle with you.

As gentle as he could and can be. 

He should drop the conversation. 

But curiosity prevents him from doing so, knowing, your thumb had bite marks, that your knees were badly bruised, with Hana telling him with a small flush on her face that your explanation was that you ‘performed your wifely duties,’ despite nothing escalating between the two of you. 

It must have slipped your mind that if asked, she, a maid of Agriche, would report everything; your actions, your behavior, your words if deemed important enough. 

But he didn’t ask her, she told him of her own volition  - most likely concerned that Dion was pushing you past your limits. How sweet of her.

He wonders why you’re so insistent on lying to him.

“If it’s nothing then it shouldn’t bother you to show them.” 

Meanwhile, you’re crying on the inside. Sure, the tears are only building up and not rolling down your cheeks. Sure, he’s not holding a sword to your throat. Sure, he’s not choking you. And sure, after a quick glance at his crotch, there’s no boner meaning that he’s not gaining some twisted sick sexual pleasure from this. 

But it’s - he’s - still threatening all the same. 

The husband from the night before, the one who teased you, the one who was far more lax - you’re starting to miss him. Not out of affection but because he stopped when you told him to.

“Since it’s nothing it shouldn’t matter if I show you or not.” An argument that’s barely above a whisper. Why can’t he just drop it? From the deep and dark circles under his eyes it’s clear he’s tired - shouldn’t he use this opportunity to get some sleep?

Unless… he can’t?

“S- so, let's just sleep. Please?” Maybe if you cry harder he’ll grant you mercy. “Pl- plus the dinner with father-in-law… it’s best to get enough sleep so we -  I mean I won’t feel like a zombie, haha…,” you wipe the tears away before he could even think about doing it. 

You can’t fake a smile and your laugh was so clearly forced. Your blood still feels cold, hands clammy as you interlock them on your lap. Your knuckles turn white from the force, discomfort ignored. 

Your knees and thumb won’t stop aching. Your heart won’t calm down and your mind refuses to stay still. It’s still hard to breathe, lungs working overtime as you force your breath to stay somewhat steady. Time isn’t moving. 

Your concern isn’t necessary is on the tip of your tongue, so close to being said. Courage is only gained when you’re too tired to feel the fear. 

So leave me alone satan.

As a little girl, you wanted a prince. As a younger teenager you wanted, no, hoped for a decent husband. 

Your wishes were denied in the worst way possible as Agriche set their eyes on your family. Denied once you somehow caught Dion’s attention, no matter how fleeting it might be. He considers you his, but it’ll only last for a bit. 

You don’t look at him. “Arguing about this… it’s only wasting time, n-no?” You’re not calm in the slightest - simply weakly adjusting to the situation. You still want to run and you’re still on the verge of having another panic attack, eyes swirling as Dion takes a seat near the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

Instead of taking off those ridiculous boots he stares at you. Instead of getting ready for bed, like he should, he stares at you. Instead of leaving you to your own devices, he stares at you.

It’s unnerving. 

“...um, you should get some rest…,” you feel naked under his gaze, deciding to get up from the covers and go to the nightstand, blowing the candle out. Now it’s only moonlight that beautifully illuminates the room. If not for your circumstances, you would have viewed the scenery as romantic. 

Your legs shake under your weight as you aimlessly walk to the dresser, knees begging for rest. Fingers tap against the black surface. One foot tapping on cold tile as you listen for the bed to creak, scared he’ll corner you right here, the possibility of Dion caging you with his arms against this piece of furniture far too real. Subconsciously you bite your thumb hard only to immediately let go once you hear the bed creak. 

“So,” you can feel him closing in on you, skin crawling as a violent shudder overtakes your body. Grabbing your right wrist with his larger hand, you look at him from the side of your eye as he stands to your right. “That’s what happened.” 

You already knew he wasn’t stupid, that he was smart and cunning. Why is he bothering himself with you instead of using that mind of his to fuck with someone else? 

 Is this how Roxana felt when he grabbed her bandaged wrist tight enough for the bandages to come loose and make the wound bleed again? Cornered like a rabbit? 

“...you’re overthinking this.” You fail in jerking your hand away, your husband’s grip firm. He squeezes your wrist before lessening the pressure. You feel like a child being scolded, but instead of being sent to the corner, you feel like you’re going to be sentenced to death. 

A small grin and scarlet eyes filled with amusement as he says, “Am I?” 

Oh. He’s enjoying this. 

You pull again. He still doesn’t let go. Only tilts his head as he observes your reaction. Like he was confused with your behavior. 

Oh, you think, he’s not used to this, is he? Lying to appear strong or get the upper hand has always been normal for the Agriche family, but lying to a husband? None of his stepmother's dared to lie to Lant unless they were stupid or had a death wish. 

Your toes curl, the urge to kick him stronger than what it should be. Assuming he wouldn’t punish you for it, your knees would - stinging in worse pain as you made an unnecessary move. You don’t want to kick him out of anger - you just want some space between you. 

“What about your knees?” 

God, must I pay for my sins like this? Did you make this childhood so innocent and sweet so you could make the impact of this worse?

“Nothing. Just an accident, really.” Words leave your mouth so quickly that it takes him a moment to process what you said. You’re not looking at him anymore, face grave and breathing becoming pants. He sees the way your eyes become saucers and fingers twitch. 

How hard you bite your lip to keep quiet. As the taste of iron spreads on your tongue he sees the red liquid dribble down your chin.

He considers it for a moment - he had no intentions to scare you. While he knew that the you from that night wouldn’t show, this you isn’t what he wanted to see. Face becoming neutral, he decides to let you go, already missing your warmth but doesn’t blame you when you immediately walk past him and return to bed.  

You wipe your chin off.  But like with your husband, the action only serves to smudge red across (s/c) skin. The sight makes him smile slightly; you were matching. 

His faults and flaws are too severe for you to adjust. Yours are innocent and child’s play compared to his - but that difference only serves to make a connection difficult. 

“G-good night,” quickly stumbling out the phrase as you hide under the covers, unwilling and unable to look at him for another second. 

- - -

You’re back to being thirteen in your previous life.

“Ow!” 

“Careful, silly!” 

Falling off your bike, you skin your knee, jeans ripping at the area of impact. There isn’t much blood but it hurts enough for your eyes to water. It hurts to bend it to see it, so you choose to sit down flat on your butt instead, laying your injured leg straight. 

Oh. Is that a rock sticking out…?

“Um…,” you start, gently poking the small intruding and foreign object only to grimace as it moves against and within the wound. “There’s a rock in my knee.” 

“...What?” 

Your friend laughs, thinking you’re playing around. Only to hop off their bike when you look at them blankly from over your shoulder, a lone tear rolling down your cheek. When they reach you, they suck in a breath through their teeth, kneeling so they could get a better look at it. With your permission they slowly and gently sway the tip of it back and forth, stopping once you yelp in pain. Your brows furrow as the pain slowly starts to worsen. 

“I uh… I think this might be an ER visit…” their suggestion you rapidly shake your head. 

“I am NOT paying six grand just to wait for hours on end.” You remember your mom commenting on the price after bringing your dad back home for a broken leg. You don’t want to add another unneeded bill.

“Well, seeing as how it’s quite literally sticking out of your knee… and that it’s a decent size, you might have to, (Name).”

“I refuse. I can just pull it out.” The rock starts to dig deeper when you slightly shift your body to get more comfortable. You keep quiet.

“And if it gets infected?” 

“I’ll just die.” 

They flick your forehead. “Dying isn’t an option, especially over this.”

“How about we hire an underground doctor?” You suggest, eyes glued to your knee and how it’s starting to bleed more. Red soaks into demi blue, the sight making you queasy. Were you always this weak at the sight of blood? It’s getting harder to stay calm.

“Underground doctor? Do you, my sweet friend, even know one?” They inquire, raising a brow in mild amusement and annoyance. 

“Well… no. But-!”

“But you’re going to the ER since you don’t.” Their decision is final as they call their older sister. It would take her thirty minutes to get here. Enough time to change your friend’s mind. 

But the pain becomes smothering, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. Your fingers curl into your palms until they clench hard enough to draw blood.

“Guh…, it’s starting to feel worse…” 

You don’t remember what happened after that, not until you get a room in the ER six hours later. 

- - -

‘Dear (Name), 

I know it’s only been two weeks since you got married and moved out. But I miss you. Father and mother have been busy lately; Father striked a business deal with someone. I heard a rumor that it’s someone from one of the five ruling families, most likely your new in-laws. 

Guess that means you’re super important or the second eldest fell in love at first sight.

Just kidding. 

I can’t see anyone falling for you. But hey, maybe that’ll mean you can get a divorce sooner or later! While it might make you less than desirable to others, or make it harder to get remarried, at least you got to experience being loaded for at least seven lifetimes! Maybe eight if we count this one. 

Anyway, as promised, I’m not skipping any of my classes. They’re so boring and I have a hard time staying awake. I wish they would give me new lessons and not these, I’ve memorized them to the point I could recall them in my sleep.

My grades are also good. The best. I mean, it wouldn’t make sense otherwise - after all, I, the great Zac, am too good to perform below average. I refuse to tarnish my good name with something as a measly test tries to break me down. 

I’m going to get smarter than that ‘husband’ of yours too. 

Speaking of which, I’m sure he’s taking decent care of you. And I’m sure that in spite of that you’re crying your eyes out every night, missing us and wishing you would wake up to another bug on your face. Come on, it wasn’t that bad. 

How does he wake you up? Or do the servants do it? Oh, or maybe you sleep in until midday? 

Don’t turn into a bum just because you’re extra rich now. 

…I do miss you. I wish I could see you, but the journey is kind of long. If I was older or didn’t have class, I would have visited you earlier. I overheard our father tell our mother that we might attend an event near the Agriche’s. Maybe. 

If we do go, I hope I get to see you there. 

Anyway, that’s enough sappy words. I’m already cringing.

We’ll meet again soon. 

Your brother, Zac’

P.S: Father cried for two hours after you left for your new place. There was a lot of snot and he could barely breathe. Oh, mother and Elena didn’t get to see it - he only broke down once the two of them went to speak with Maria Agriche. 

I only know because I walked in on him while finding a place to nap. I stayed the entire two hours in the corner since it didn’t feel right to interrupt him.

I’ll sound horrible saying this, but; his reaction after seeing me was funny. Maybe I’ll tell you all about it if you beg in your reply letter.'

“...Did Dion read this?”

“Yes, with your permission that you gave earlier, my Lady.” 

“Remind me not to do that again.”