#missed inserting the step show imitation

[tani-b-art]

Gee, golly, Ava has it that bad for Janine that she often imitates her! Pretends to be her too and makes accounts with her name for a phantom school, gee willikers!

[megaboy335]

Soaring Sky Precure and All Stars F Thoughts

The end of January is always a bittersweet time to be a Precure fan as the currently airing series comes to a close and the next series begins the following week at the first of February. I have been watching Precure on a weekly basis for 6 years ever since Hugtto in 2018 and I watched the entire backlog of episodes over roughly 2 years. I wanted to write a post about why All Stars F and Soaring Sky Precure were the perfect anniversary projects. The staple of any Precure milestone year is a new All Stars movie. They used to be yearly until there were simply too many characters to sustain the purpose of the format so now its saved for special occasions. I'll start by saying All Stars F was phenomenal! The action has never looked better and unlike Memories, it was almost completely in 2D. It's hard to miss when they distill the franchise into its purest form of magical girls beating monsters. The main point I want to focus on is the film's antagonist Cure Supreme.

(note the fake logo, Supreme is merely going through the motions) They are an unworldly existence who completely destroyed all the cures. Kind of like an end of series boss character. Yet on a whim Supreme wanted to learn more about where a Precure's strength comes from such as why did they try so hard. Supreme recreated earth, gave themselves a mascot, a ton of monsters to defeat including a boss figure, all to essentially live as the main character of a Precure series. It's a very cynical way of looking at the franchise with its repeatable formula. She sees all the parts as simply something they have. In the climax of the film Supreme is faced with Precure being more than the sum of its parts. They see the hardships, trials, moments of happiness, and the moments of sadness that have occurred in the history of the franchise. A Precure is someone who puts their best foot forward and looks to make a better tomorrow regardless of any obstacles. By splitting part of their power into a mascot and trying to imitate being a cure, Supreme has already taken the first step of their redemption story. In the end, All Stars F uses Supreme to show the audience why Precure is such a long lasting franchise. It might be a repeatable formula, it might appear silly, but ultimately what defines a Precure is someone giving it all their to improve themselves. That is something that can resonate and inspires an audience of all ages which even Supreme is not immune from. The film concludes with Supreme and they're mascot Puka realizing that perhaps together there is more to life when they share experiences.

(Manatsu grinning with happiness as her first encounter with Laura replays before their eyes. You can feel how proud she is of having a friend like Laura. It completely changed the trajectory of her life for the better) If All Stars F is a refresher of Precure's overarching themes, then Soaring Sky Precure is a throwback to the duo dynamic of the early days with a theme of Heroes. We have the central duo of Sora and Mashiro. Sora is an outsider and the team lead. She befriends Mashiro, the human character, who is a kind person who doesn't always have the best self confidence. Together they teach other how to exert themselves more. Both Mashiro and Sora come to learn how acts of kindness come in many forms. Similarly, Tsubasa (first male cure, aspiring knight) and Ageha (adult, nursery school teacher) form a secondary duo. They're mostly stuck in supporting roles for most of the series, but both show anyone can embody the qualities of a Precure in their life. Super heroes don't always wear fleshly capes after all. Elle is a somewhat of a throwback to Luminous as a supernatural entity in the group. She's mostly the insert character for Precure's young target demographic. By becoming Cure Noble it adds to the idea of people in supporting roles being heroes in their own right. Even if they are fallen nobility. Precure's don't let their past define them. This brings us to the main antagonist Kaiserin. If Sora finds positivity from those around her, then Kaiserin is her foil as someone who has a pure heart but became tainted by negative surrounding circumstances. Kaiserin had been told over and over that strength is everything. These ideals were forced upon her through fabricated events. At the climax with Kaiserin wavering, the dark power went into Sky because surely a hero with strong convictions would desire the ultimate power at all costs to save a friend. But turns out Sora's bond with Mashiro is even stronger than that. Power for powers sake can only go so far and Mashiro never stopped believing in Sora. They both push each other to new heights that senseless strength could never obtain. Kasarin sees this and rejects the power. Giving in to those desires has only stunted her ability to cultivate relationships. She can now get a second chance with her loyal followers now seeking to redeem themselves as well.

The franchise began as "Futari wa Precure" (We are Precure) for a reason. It's about how people can connect and push each other. Whether its someone from another world and a human on earth, an alien being destructive powers, or.... a dog and her pet owner? Sometimes the larger group dynamic and gimmick is more important in modern precures, but going back to those roots from Futari wa Precure every once in awhile is a good reminder of how it runs through every installment to this day. Tldr - I'm thinking way to hard about a children's television series whose main goal is selling toys. We're lucky it consistently has such strong character writing. I really like when the lead can shout their dream at every turn and grows to embody that ideal. We got spoiled by having a full 50 episode series this year. The power of 4 cour is amazing. Late night anime could only dream of having that much time.

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘Crucified’ - Savior Saeran x Reader NSFW 18+ Reader Insert

Title: Crucified 

Paring: Savior Saeran Choi x Implied Female Reader 

Wordcount: 8K

Rating: 18+

Tags: church sex, altar sex, oral sex, wax play, just a whole lot of blasphemy

Based on: ‘Crucified’ by Army of Lovers - Youtube Link 

A sharp knock came at your door. It was almost midnight, and you’d already showered and gotten into bed for the evening, so you didn’t understand who would be needing your attention so late. Part of you wanted to ignore the knocking and pretend you couldn’t hear it through your sleep, but you knew that there was a good chance that whoever was knocking wouldn’t leave until they had gotten your attention. So, you sighed and pulled your long dressing gown on and wrapped it tightly around your body since you didn’t know who might be at the door at such a hour. You opened it to find two Believers who introduced themselves by Believer number and greeted you with ‘For Paradise.’

‘The Savior wants you in the Chapel. We have been sent to escort you there.’ They shifted uncomfortably.

You squinted, scrutinising them slightly, ‘At this time?’

While it wasn’t uncommon to be summoned or woken up at any hour of the night, you were always tentative to leave your room after dark since Magenta was so large and was, strategically, built like a maze. You were always too worried about getting lost on your way around. The only place you could feasibly find your way to and from after dark was the gardens since you no longer had Ray as an escort around the rest of the building. A small, sad voice echoed in your head, correcting yourself that you no longer had Ray at all.

‘We are not ones to question orders from The Savior. We were told to deliver this to you.’ The hooded Believer handed the wrapped item to you.

The Believers knocked once again on your door, telling you that The Savior had told them to bring you promptly, so you hurried yourself out of the room and into the corridor. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed the heavy rain from inside your room but it seemed to be thrashing violently against the windows along the winding corridors towards the chapel, and was amplified by the silence of the Believers that escorted you. Briefly, you considered asking whether they knew why The Savior had wanted to see you at such a time but figured that they wouldn’t tell you the truth even if they did know so it would be pointless to try. After all, who would willingly walk to their own Cleansing? They wouldn’t have wanted to have made their own jobs more difficult by having you put up a fight.

You were slightly confused and held the item out of view behind the door as you opened it, ‘Right. Allow me a moment to change into this.’ They nodded and you closed the door. Turning on the light, you quickly unwrapped the item in its entirety; It was a short, black chemise. For a moment, you looked at it in surprise. This was… unusual. You ran your fingers over the fabric, until your heart raced at the realisation that perhaps you were being taken for a Cleansing. You wracked your brain for any instance where you might have upset The Savior without realising, but none immediately came to mind. You knew the Savior had the tendency to never talk about the forwarding intentions of Mint Eye, so everyone was almost perpetually on edge. You changed quickly and placed your dressing down back over your shoulders, wrapping it tightly once again. You didn’t know how long you were going to be out, and the Chapel was always cold, especially after the sun had gone down. You knew you needed to look presentable, as it was customary for Believers to either never show their face in front of The Savior, or if they were permitted to be seen; made sure they looked their absolute best as to not displease the higher ups.

               With that in mind, you raced into your bathroom to spray yourself with some perfume that Ray had once given you, gargle some mouthwash and roughly drag a brush through your hair. As you put on a pair of slip-on shoes, you couldn’t fight the anxiety that had started to bubble in your chest, even though you knew that there was no use in dwelling on it before knowing either way. And yet, you had seen how The Savior had treated other Believers for their wrongdoings, and while you wanted to believe that you were different, believe in the history that the two of you shared, you were still scared. Perhaps it was because of that history, that bond, that was the cause of your summons.

The Chapel had been built slightly to the side of the main Magenta building, so you had to go outside to get to it. Luckily, there was a shelter that ran all the way along towards the Chapel entrance, so you didn’t get wet, but the wind was enough to rob you of the remaining heat that the anxiety had been merciful enough to leave you with. By the time you stood at the Chapel door, you had been chilled to the bones. The Believers bowed slightly towards you, bidding you farewell with a ‘For Paradise’ before leaving you alone to face your apparent penance.

You knocked meekly.

‘Enter.’ The deep voice commanded from within, making your heart skip a beat. Your hands were pressed against the wooden door, but you struggled to find the strength to open them. You hadn’t seen him in so long, the man you saw walking around Mint Eye, who looked through people as though he didn’t see them, was barely a remnant of the man you loved. You knew better than to keep him waiting and pressed yourself into the door and let it close behind you.

The heavy scent of incense and candles were the first thing to hit you when you closed the door, it was almost intoxicating by nature. Despite the Chapel being a newer addition to the grounds, it was somewhat remarkable that it already smelled like an aged church, you felt like you could smell the history that had never been occurred there. During the day, it was usually only illuminated by natural lighting and after the sun went down, they relied on candlelight and the moon for visibility. You heard him move, but dare not lift your gaze.

‘F-For Paradise.’ You stuttered, bowing your head slightly to look at the ground. Had you always been so nervous to see him? Everything was so different now, but it could not be denied that he was the one who personally summoned you to the Chapel at this time of night.

‘For Paradise.’ Saeran replied, ‘Do you know why I’ve summoned you?’ His voice echoed in the dark, small Chapel. Your heart stopped at hearing him speak, you couldn’t even remember the last time that he had directly addressed you. You looked up towards the other end of the small hall to where he was standing, in all of his Savior attire. He stood at the base of the steps before an altar, surrounded by dozens of lit candelabras, the small orange flames were almost enough to cast come colour into his cheeks. Almost. Suddenly, your heart was in your throat and it took you a few seconds to find your words. You couldn’t even process how much you had missed him, how much you had craved for the future that you had hoped to have together in another life.

‘Am I here to be cleansed?’ The words came out as barely a whisper, but he heard nonetheless. You had barely spoken to Saeran since he had become Mint Eye’s Savior, you hadn’t been permitted to request an audience and he had never made a personal visit. He was distant from everyone, cold and composed. It was as though he was imitating Rika, imitating what he thought he should be doing in this new role. He walked throughout Mint Eye as though he didn’t see anyone, even if you passed him, he’d never looked at you. He usually carried himself with an elevated, yet undeniably melancholic presence that was not easy for people to approach. They feared in him the same way that they had once feared Rika, with the added knowledge that Saeran was more experienced with Cleansing rituals. Whereas Rika would only witness and conduct them, Saeran was the one to carry them out.

‘Of sorts. You’ve been brought here to make a confession first. Kneel.’ He turned to you, slowly raising one arm to his side to gesture where he wanted you to place yourself. It was difficult to convince your legs to move, they were leaden with fear. A confession? What had you done that you needed to confess for? And… ‘first’? What did that mean would be coming afterwards and-

‘Come.’ The voice commanded, slightly sterner this time, reflecting a certain degree of the coldness he exhibited walking around Magenta. You gasped, looking up into his face. He, however, was looking away.

You pulled your nightdress around you as you walked between the Chapel pews towards the altar where Saeran was standing. The floor was marble with a singular, dark red carpet running along the centre with the moonlight shining small reflections of colour through the stained-glass window. You glanced up at Saeran as you walked, trying to read his reaction, but he gave nothing away to you. He was a ghost, the ghost of the man you loved.

‘Kneel.’ He said as you dropped to your knees before him. You knew that the Mint Eye beliefs had been steeped in Catholicism, since the previous Savior was a devout believer and there were rumours that the current one before you had been living in a Cathedral prior to coming to Magenta. The religious elements that became core beliefs in Mint Eye were evident throughout both Chapel and practices. It was set up with the same small layout of a church, and while there were no melodic hymns, there were prayers and chants to be memorised and recited, ‘For Paradise’. Saeran even wore a teal cross on his robes, there were other smaller mental crosses littered around the Chapel too. Believers were taught to worship the Savior as though they were a God themselves, as for all intents and purposes, they were akin to one. The dark oak altar was ornate and decorative, adorned with candles and goblets and a matching marble top.

You clasped your hands together in a prayer-like gesture as he told you to and stared down onto the floor with your hands stretched out in front of you. You watched as his robes shift as he turned to you, and a part of you was worried that he was going to hear the thud of your heart echoing throughout the dark building. Suddenly, his hand came into your view, and placed two fingers underneath your chin to tilt your head up to meet his icy gaze.

‘I want to see your eyes when you’re confessing yourself to me. I’ll know if you’re lying.’ He said, removing his fingers. You swallowed, desperate to shudder from the touch but finding yourself unable to move. That was the first time he’d touched you in so long, since long before he became this. You had forgotten how much you had missed his touch and found yourself almost wishing that you had leaned into his hand.

‘Wha- What should I be confessing?’

‘I think we both know.’ He replied from above, his eyes were cruel, never giving you a moment to even gather your thoughts. ‘Confess your feelings for me, for the man who you wanted me to be. Cry for your sweet Ray, mourn for your lost Saeran.’

‘I-I…’ You trailed off, before Saeran interjected with:

‘Would it help you if I acted like them?’ He asked, a slight sneer spreading over his features.

‘No, thank you.’ You muttered, trying to pull your eyes away. You looked down at your hands, knowing that you weren’t going to get out of this confession anytime soon if you didn’t cave in and admit it to him. Of course, Saeran already knew. He still had access to most of their memories, so he knew of the time you shared with each of them, but that was not the point of this confession. It was to taunt you.

‘From the moment this confession starts, every second will be one closer to being bound.’ Saeran turned, picking up one of the long, white pillar candles and titled it so that the wax started dripping onto your clasped hands. ‘Begin.’

One by one, the soft rolls of white wax splattered onto your skin. It felt like a timer of sorts, and in effect, you supposed it was. You weren’t even sure where you were supposed to start. In the months it had taken to adjust to the new Savior, you had already mourned for the boys that you had lost, and who they were about to become. You had spent many nights crying for what could have been and for what had gone wrong. You had suffered alone, and been forced to watch the man you love become someone he had struggled so hard to break free from. How were you supposed to say all of this in front of him? Of course, he already knew, but he clearly intended to hear it fall from your mouth like a litany of sins.

The wax began dripping freely over your fingers, seeping in between the lines of your hands and heating between your palms. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you could definitely feel the warmth of the wax melting into your bones. It seemed as though Saeran was about to provoke you to speak again, but you manage to find your voice on your own.

‘Ray-… he was precious. He was so scared.’ You continued to watch the candle drip onto your hands, ‘He was a sweet boy, who gave too much of himself to the wrong people. He was sensitive. Obsessive, even. He just wanted to feel loved in the same capacity that he was willing to love.’ You muttered, as the wax started to slip down your wrists. Saeran seemed to savour the last sentence you spoke, appearing to mull it over in his own mind before deciding the next course of action. It took him a few seconds but he finally asked;

‘And did you?’

‘Yes.’ But of course, he already knew that.

‘And? I’ve always thought him rather melancholic.’ Saeran replied from above, looking rather disinterested with what you had to say about Ray.

‘He just wanted to be happy.’ You replied, watching as Saeran reached for another candle. It hadn’t occurred to you that the wax was slowly sealing your hands together in a frozen prayer, until that moment. He lit the fresh candle off of the dying one and tilted it once more over your hands, cocking his head to one side.

‘So be it. Continue.’ He deadpanned.

You had to think again, Saeran had certainly been a lot. It had taken you even longer to process as, just when you thought there had been a solid hope for him to heal, his salvation had been snatched from his hands once more and poisoned. There had been a lot of times in Magenta that Saeran had scared you, or hurt you. His erratic nature would come at the expense of both of you, and it was only when he realised that he was damaging himself just as much as he was damaging you that the burning rage in his heart that begun to cool. He couldn’t swallow his anger, but he couldn’t stop it from dipping into Ray’s sadness, melding them together in a tragic oasis.

‘Saeran was… scared too, but he had to be scared for himself and for Ray…’ You took a deep breath, ‘He was violent and volatile. Saeran was unstable. Well, they both were, but in different ways. Saeran wanted to be happy too but he didn’t know how to be. Every time some form of happiness was hung in front of him, it was ripped away as soon as he tried to reach his hand out for it; so, after a while he just stopped trying.’

‘How very ‘Beauty and the Beast’ of you.’ He said, twirling the candle in an almost bored-like state.

‘You were the one who asked.’ You muttered, almost forgetting who you were speaking to before hurriedly adding a ‘Savior’ on the end. It was getting rather difficult to unclasp your hands under the thick layer of wax, it had started to cool and harden with the time it had taken to talk about the two lost boys. Saeran tutted, and even though the heavy sounds of the rain, it seemed to be an all-encompassing sound.

‘And Saeran? What about him?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did you love him too?’ His face was a little bit different this time, yet you couldn’t figure out quite how. Saeran seemed a little bit more interested, but his face never indicated that you had piqued his interest. This Saeran was so visually cold that you weren’t sure how you should place your emotions in front of him. You had seen how quickly Ray had become Saeran, and you didn’t know who that Saeran had become. And yet, you could not lie.

‘…Yes.’

‘I see.’ He replied but said nothing else as he reached for another candle and began melting it once again. Part of you wanted to ask if the confession was over, but the more reasonable part of your brain said it was better to wait to be dismissed, since it was a Saeran that you did not know. The Chapel was silent aside from the sound of the weather hitting the stained glass and the gentle erythematic breathing coming from the both of you.

‘Have you come to an epiphany of me yet? Preach your findings to me.’ He pulled your face up to meet him once again. No matter the Saeran, his eyes were always the same. Wherever he went, whoever he was; he was doomed to carry that dejected gaze.

‘No… I haven’t.’ You muttered under your breath.

‘Disappointing.’

‘I’m sorry, t-this is the first time we’re meeting.’

‘First impressions then. Don’t keep me waiting.’ His voice was chilly again, clearly dissatisfied that you had yet to draw any conclusions about the man in front of you. You were slightly panicked over the fact that you needed to come up with something on the spot, especially at the risk of offending him. You noticed, in a similar moment, that you were no longer able to part your hands. The wax had solidified to the point where you could just about tense and untense your fingers inside of the warm encasing, but not enough to free them, not unless you put a bit of effort into it. You didn’t have time to consider it much longer, as Saeran’s insistent staring made it overtly apparent that he was impatiently awaiting your response.

‘You’re not…as cold as Saeran. But, you’re also not as optimistic as Ray. Forgive me but-’

‘Go on.’ He said.

‘It’s like you’re the melancholic combination of the two… it’s as though you took on the sadness of both of them and made it your own-’

He almost sighed; ‘So that’s what you think.’

‘I’m afraid that I do not know you very well, Saer- Savior.’ Immediately correcting yourself, you sharply bit at the inside if your own cheek for your error. He was silent. You lowered your hands so that they were just resting on your lap as you kneeled

‘I suppose… I could let you know me better…’ His voice dropped as his hand moved from under your chin, to hold you by the jaw, and lift your face up towards him. With his other hand, he grabbed the ornate goblet from on top of the altar and brought it to his own lips, drinking from it slightly. He kept you on your knees, but his movements were slow and purposeful. Saeran never took his eyes from you up until the last moment, waiting to see if you told him to stop. You didn’t. As you felt him place his lips on yours, you let your eyes flutter shut and a tear roll down either cheek. You felt the rush of a liquid flood into your mouth, it was sweet. You knew that Elixir was usually kept in that goblet, as you had seen it forced into people’s mouths during atonements, but this only tasted weakly of that bright blue poison, if at all. Despite your better judgement, you swallowed. You weren’t sure what provoked him to do it, but you thought you’d never get to feel the touch of Saeran’s kiss again. Even if this was to be the last one, you’d have to cherish it.

If you would have asked him why he kissed you in that moment, Saeran probably wouldn’t have told you. He didn’t want to explain that both Ray and Saeran were crying for you. How Ray wanted to hold you in his arms just once more time, how Saeran wanted to try accepting the affection you were so willing to offer him. Neither could stand to see the distance between you and the Saeran in front of you and implored him to do something about it. No, he could never admit that.

He broke the kiss first, and for a moment, he looked as though he was in pain. His hand fell from your face, reaching up to his head for a second as he winced. You wondered, briefly, if Ray and Saeran were both yelling at him in the same way that Ray told you of Saeran’s constant stream of complaints. He wasn’t coughing in the same way that he did whenever he drank the Elixir himself, confirming that what he had given you was not harmful. Even now, in this warped manner, he was trying to protect you in the same way that the other two had done.

In a second of uncharacteristic confidence, you chased his lips, standing to try and kiss him again. You almost stumbled into him in your eagerness. You had been so desperate to repress the feelings of hurt and abandonment in the last few months in the loss of him that you were willing to throw away your sense of anxiety if it meant just getting to be close to him once more. He didn’t move away, letting you kiss at his lips.

It took a few seconds for him to move his lips against yours, since this Saeran still only had the same amount of experience as the others. He made no grand gestures but responded to your touch in the same way that you responded to his. His lips were warmer than you remembered Ray’s being, and you hoped that meant that Saeran was looking after himself better, eating and sleeping as his body needed. He lifted his hand to cup your neck before slowly tracing his fingers to settle on the space between your jaw and neck.

He pulled back, but held onto you, just so he could look at you. You watched as his icy eyes glanced between yours, trying to decipher why you were so willingly still kissing him. He furrowed his brows slightly, as though trying to have a silent conversation with himself, before he kissed you again. This kiss was slightly rougher than the previous times, there was more force behind his lips. It felt emotional. His frozen persona was not melted, but there was a gentle warmth to his touch that reminded you of Ray. You wanted to hold him, to run your hands over his shoulders again like you had dreamt of doing for so long, but your hands remained encase in wax between the two of you. You didn’t want to push your luck, so you gently parted your lips and waited to see if he wanted to deepen the kiss himself. When you felt his tongue slightly touch your lower lip, you all but melted against him. A breath audibly hitched in your throat and seemed to give him a bit more confidence in what he was doing.

Without having your hands free to hold it closed, your dressing gown came undone and Saeran’s hand found its way inside and around your waist, pulling you against him without breaking the contact of the kiss. Your own hands were pressed against your chest in betwixt both bodies, just lightly only your heart which was racing violently.

It was only when the backs of your thighs touched the cold edge of the altar that you registered that you had been guided upwards. Saeran didn’t take his mouth off of you and gently pushed you by the hips. You had to trust had he was moving you properly because, with your hands sealed together in front of you, there was no way to stop yourself if you fell.

You felt somewhat exposed as your dressing gown became completely undone by the time you were ever-so-slightly leaning onto the side of the altar, the temptation to sit on top of the surface was overwhelming, especially after you had been kneeling for so long. As Saeran’s lips descended from your mouth and down along your jaw and tentatively onto your neck, you seized the opportunity to seat yourself on top of the altar, just enough to grant your legs some sanctuary. He cocked an eyebrow at you briefly, before resuming the kisses on your throat.

Now that you were sitting, it seemed too distant, too far away, so you parted your legs to allow him to mover closer once again by standing in between them. He didn’t address it, but quickly understood that you wanted him to fill the space and moved close enough that he was almost looming over you. His presence reminded you of Saeran, in-control and commanding, and yet very attentive. You were somewhat embarrassed by this newfound intimacy, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every single second of it. Part of you felt a sense of religious guilt for doing such things in a Chapel, supposedly under the eyes of God. And yet, it was with the very God of that Chapel that you were committing those sacrilegious acts with, so could it really be desecration of the Holy Ground if he permitted it?

He left small lovebites on your neck, moving down towards your collarbones and you tried to stifle a moan, fearing that it would echo through the building. You gasped at the sensation whenever his lips would attack a new part of your flesh, leaving you more and more sensitive with each passing moment.

‘They both wanted you like this.’ He whispered, almost huskily against your ear. You shuddered against him, immediately wanting more.

‘O-oh.’

‘They thought about it everyday.’ It felt so sinful to be doing something with a man dressed in religious garments, and yet you were entirely captivated by the sight of him.

‘You’re very honest.’ You mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks at his confession. Part of you couldn’t imagine sweet Ray, who stuttered over handing you a rose, would fantasise about something like this.

Saeran paused for a moment before adding: ‘I have no reason to lie about it.’

‘I see.’ You once told Saeran that he only wouldn’t look at you because Ray was in his eyes, but now you could see them both there, staring back at you at he spoke. The melancholy was undeniable, but so was the yearning.

As you moved your arms over Saeran’s shoulders, the motion caused the wax to break and fall off, allowing you to run your fingers through his hair. It was as soft as you remembered, and you could have cried at the feeling of it in your hands. While the Saeran was different, it was still him. There was something undeniably biblical about it, having broken that restraint.

‘Do you require a Cleansing?’ He asked, causing you to break off the kiss. Your heart was already racing from the heated atmosphere, but now it was thudding for a different reason. You looked at him tentatively, making sure you were on the same page.

‘C-cleansing?’

‘A different sort… than the ones conducted downstairs.’ He chose his words carefully, glancing down at the floor as though to emphasise his point, but without any indication as to what he actually meant.

‘What do you mean then?’

‘Intimately.’ Saeran replied.

‘Intimately?’

‘Together.’ He said. Oh. So, that’s how he’s phrasing it. It was only then that you realised how Saeran actually looked. He was panting ever so slightly, his hair dishevelled from there you had had your hands in it, even his long robes were slightly creased from where he had been leaning between your legs. It looked as though his body wanted this as badly as yours did.

You swallowed, ‘Together.’

He once again began kissing you, taking your lips with his as you started to become more and more turned on from his touch and the excitement of what was to come. It was evident that Saeran was also starting to feel the heat of the moment as he began pulling at your bottom lip slightly with his teeth, earning soft moans from you.

You felt him raise his hands to your shoulders and gently push you down so that your back was flat upon the marble altar top. Suddenly thankful for your black robe conserving the slightest bit of warmth as the coldness of the stone hit your back.

Saeran was leaning over you. He was still standing between your legs as they dangled off the side, but he was entirely over your torso and chest, causing his blue sash to dangle off of his shoulders on either side of your head. His mouth was on yours once again and his hands were on your side, your own arms were around his neck, pulling him closer. Not close enough. You had waited so long to touch him again, you thought you had lost him forever. You lifted your legs, wrapping them around the back of his thighs, almost making him fall on top of you. A small shiver of excitement shot down your spine as you heard his breath catch in his throat at your legs wrapping around him and it definitely spurred him on.

He took two fingers and put them under your chin and slowly, oh so slowly, traced them in a continuous line down your chest, in between your breasts and all the way down your abdomen, stopping just above where the line of your underwear was. Since you’d pulled him towards you with your legs, you could now feel the rise of his erection brushing against the side of your exposed inner thigh. You gasped.

‘Are you scared?’ He asked.

‘It’s… my first time.’

‘It’s my job to bring you to salvation.’ He told you, yet it seemed to be that he was saying that last sentence to himself more than he was to you. It was as though he had recited it a hundred times in a mirror and it just fell from his mouth without any real conviction to it.

‘I trust you.’ It was true. You did trust Saeran, against what would probably be your better judgement.

‘A poor decision.’ He replied, running his other hand up your thigh. You had never known Saeran to be so physically bold, so it somewhat took you by surprise that he was so readily touching you like this. It was truly the last thing you expected this evening. ‘You can tell me to stop if you don’t like it.’

‘I… I do.’ Again, it was true. He took it as a sign to continue, but as he looked into your eyes, you knew he was looking back on his time with you as Ray and Saeran, and how the two of you could never return to that time again. There was a hint of emotion that you could not even begin to unravel the meaning behind. This was the best that he could give you in his life of a melancholic penance. Perhaps this was the punishment for his crime of daring to hope: his act of contrition.

His kisses began following the same single line that his two fingers had followed, all the way down your chest. You held your breath as he passed in between your breasts, moving down towards the end of your abdomen. You sighed as you felt his hands grip themselves onto your thighs, tightly. Your sigh told him to continue and his cold hands found their way underneath the hem of your black nightdress, slowly removing your underwear and letting them fall off onto the floor beneath you. Part of you just couldn’t believe it was happening, but all of you did not want it to stop now. The lips that stuttered over your first meeting were now kissing their way up your inner thigh, occasionally biting at the soft, bare skin.

Saeran pushed his hands up onto your hips, to steady himself as he moved closer to you, his thumbs slightly digging into your flesh. You closed your eyes as you felt his tongue make contact with you, thankful that the angle of you flat on your back meant that he couldn’t see the hard blush smothering your cheeks. His tongue was soft and light; exploring each part of you to find which spots made you moan the most and then paying extra attention to it.

‘Sa-Savior…’ Your breath choked in your throat as his tongue brushed against every intimate part of you. He was tentative, but purposeful. All you could manage in response to his mouth was a moan and a few crying mewls, silently begging him.

He licked and sucked at your folds until you were all but whimpering atop the altar. You were so willingly coming undone under his hands, laid bare and exposed before the eyes of God despite not having taken off any of your clothing; it wasn’t necessary for this act of sin. You were embarrassed to look, but when you glanced your eyes down at him his powerful gaze was holding your own, deciphering every reaction you made. The intensity in his cool eyes caused the knot that had been slowly forming in your stomach to begin tightening more and more. You shuddered involuntarily at the sight as you felt the heat rush to your cheeks and hoped that you could just pass it off as the warmth spewing from so many candles. He must have seen how embarrassed you were at being watched, so after a few more seconds he closed his eyes. Once closed, Saeran changed the direction of his tongue and you threw your head back and choked out a cry from somewhere deep inside of your throat at the sensation.

You weren’t sure if time was passing slowly or if you were just that lost in the feeling of his mouth on you, but you were so numb to everything that wasn’t Saeran in that moment. You didn’t even realise that your hands had found their way into his pale hair until you were almost gripping him.

You’d had orgasms before, with a clumsy stumbling of your own fingers, but the intensity you felt in your abdomen was building and building with each passing second, with each passing graze of his tongue. You tried to warn him that you thought you were about to cum, but you guessed that he could probably tell from the performance you were giving. Your legs were twitching around him as soft cries fell free from your mouth, and you almost even thanked God for the experience. And part of you thought that, maybe, you should have.

You could feel that you were right on the edge, desperate to fall off. Your hands moved from Saeran’s head down to his shoulders, where you gripped his white and blue robes with fervour and tried to tell him that you were cumming, but it happened too quickly for you to gather your thoughts in any degree. The pressure in you suddenly snapped and you cried out for your Savior, for Saeran. He continued to fuck you with his mouth through your orgasm, as you moaned and sighed and gasped out for him. It was as close to a biblical enlightenment that you thought you were ever going to get. He touched you right up until the point of overstimulation with his hands on your hips stopped you from squirming away from him.

After a short while, he took his mouth off of you and you immediately mourned for the lost contact but was somewhat thankful for the chance to catch your breath. Or so you thought.

‘Are you ready for me to continue?’ He asked, wiping the spit from his chin with a single swipe of his thumb. His eyes were burning with more emotion than you had seen in him in a long, long time. You swallowed, nodding. Despite the fact Saeran hadn’t been touching himself, you could see the outline of his erection pushing through the fabric of his robes.

Lying there on the altar surrounded by candlelight, waiting to be taken, you felt somewhat sacrificial. What you were sacrificing, you weren’t sure, but you’d offer it up to him in a heartbeat if only he’d ask. You watched through half-lidded eyes as Saeran used one hand to unzip the bottom half of his robe and trousers, and the other slowly insert two fingers into you. You stifled a small moan at the pleasant intrusion and then failed to stifle further moans as he began moving his fingers inside of you, pressing up against your sweet spot. It continued like that for a minute for so while he began to lightly touch himself with his free hand.

‘I’ll… take you to salvation. I’ll save you.’ He said, almost sadly. You didn’t have time to question that slight melancholic tone in his voice before he pulled his fingers out of you, pulling you by the hips right to the edge of the altar. Saeran lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly pushed himself in, watching for any discomfort on your face. Since he had already taken the time to relax and prepare you, there wasn’t any pain except for a slight burn as you adjusted to the size of him filling you.

He waited for you to sigh in approval before he started moving, taking his time in thrusting in and out of you, and then again and again. You covered your face in embarrassment, knowing that he was watching your reactions from where he was standing. He took your wrists, pulling them off your face and brought them down to where he was holding your hips so that you couldn’t hide your face from him. He wanted to see, he wanted to see it all.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself to each thrust. You couldn’t believe that this was happening, and yet you had to. All of your senses were screaming that it was happening, and that it felt so good. Truly, you’d never be able to look at this Chapel the same way next time everyone was called to Sermon. You could hear Saeran’s sweet sighs filling the air. They were quiet and tentative, but most definitely present.

You arched your back as you dreamily opened your eyes, gazing up into the stained-glass window once again. The moonlight shone through the colourful glass, illuminating the rainbow of colours, and casting beautiful shades across Saeran’s face and robes. In a moment of lost bliss, your mind wandered to how beautiful Saeran looked painted in those colours, almost like he was a stained-glass portrait himself. Despite the myriad of shades tinting his skin, it never took away from the ice in his eyes. Saeran’s blue pierced through even a kaleidoscope of colour. You thought about uttering a prayer for him now, to thank someone, anyone, that he had returned to you: even in this manner. Before you managed to speak, Saeran’s words called your attention to him, the ghost of a sneer almost on his face. He could tell.

‘Were you about to pray for me? To pray for my damned soul?’ He asked while continuing to thrust into you at a godless speed. You struggled to speak for a few seconds, seeing as your body was so desperately calling all of your focus elsewhere. You didn’t even realise that you were staring into his face as he fucked you like this, waiting for your answer.

‘Do you wan-want me to?’ You tried to get the words out as he pounded into you again and again.

‘It’s too late… for that.’ He furrowed his brows, before picking up his speed once again, pulling you by the thighs to meet his thrusts. There was a slight amount of sweat beginning to glisten on his forehead and his panting was noticeably heavy as the tiredness was starting to creep up on him.

He shifted from his standing position to bending over you, so he could support himself on his forearms as he continued to bring you closer and closer to your apparent ‘Salvation’. You wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him know how much you needed him right then and there.

Saeran’s face was only a few inches from your own, his warm breath falling over you in waves as he moved. It was at this distance that he averted his eyes from you, clearly feeling some degree of embarrassment or shame. He leant down, as though to kiss you, but then buried his face into the crook of your neck instead. You cradled one arm around his head and the other sprawled across his back, just to make sure he knew you were there, for any of him, and all of him.

You bit your lip to quieten the moans falling from your mouth because you felt guilty about moaning right into his ear. As soon as he realised what you were doing, he left the crook of your neck and began hovering over you again, purposely thrusting harder than he was before:

‘I want to hear. Nothing can be hidden from me in this place.’ The voice that came from him was quiet, yet possessive. Of course, you would oblige. Not that you really had a choice seeing as his rhythm was almost merciless.

Another orgasm was coming at you hard and fast, the pressure in your abdomen building to the point of pain. You cried out his name in a string of prayers as you begged for him to keep going, you were so close and was desperate to finish. The sadistic streak in Saeran thoroughly relished in the sight of you coming utterly undone beneath him, but he knew that his own body could not savour the thrill for much longer as he was nearing his own climax too. He hadn’t previously commented on how tight you were, but you being so close had gotten to the point of nearly suffocating him.

He leant down and captured your lips in another kiss, a needy and desperate one. There were so many words he could have used to describe the way he felt when he kissed you, and yet there were none at all. It was intoxicating for him to be flooded with not only his emotions, but the rushed emotions of both Ray and Saeran too.

To his surprise, the kiss was what you needed to finish. You felt yourself finish so suddenly that all you could do was cry out, your voice echoing throughout the Chapel. Any Believers outside would have heard it, even through the sounds of the pouring rain. You were absolutely numb to everything except for the feeling of your high and the continuous thrusting that was almost torturing you into hypersensitivity. It felt so fucking good, and you could have joked about seeing the Gates of Heaven if not for the fact that you were still being fucked through the orgasm.

Feeling you cum so violently immediately sent Saeran over the edge. He couldn’t hold on any longer.

‘F-fuck, I’m gonna-’ He started, his arms visibly shaking. He waited to see if you were going to loosen your grip on his waist to let him pull out, but when you didn’t, he took it as a sign to keep going freely. He bucked his hips against you, shaking the surrounding candles slightly, cursing as he also finished. He froze for a few seconds of his orgasm before slowly continuing to move, just to prolong his own high for that little bit longer. He was full of sweet sighs as his own peak came in waves, filling you completely.

He collapsed onto your chest while still inside you, and you tiredly wrapped your arms around him, pressing kisses into his pale hair. In the quiet night air, the only sounds were the rain hitting against the window and the breath shared between the both of you. His face felt very warm on your skin and you supposed it was due to the thickness of his Savior garments and the sheer physical exercise he had been doing. Your breathing started to mellow out and shortly Saeran pulled out of you, choosing to lay down on the altar besides you.

You silently shuffled closer to him, not quite finding the words to express how you feel about what just happened. Saeran didn’t seem to have much to say either, but you were well aware that the Saeran in front of you was not one for many words. Maybe he didn’t need words. He spent a lot of time in his own head that he was probably trying to rationalise and process what happened in his own time. You were a little anxious in the silence.

‘Do… you regret it?’ You asked nervously.

‘Do you?’ He countered in a sigh, his eyes closed as he faced upwards. You glanced up to look at him, watching as the shadows from the raindrops on the window reflected onto his face. A single shadowed tear rolled down the window, and it looked like he was crying a black tear, but it was only an illusion.

‘No. I don’t regret you. Any of you.’ You whispered, kissing the part of his shoulder that you were next to. Saeran always looked as though he was in pain, but in that moment he looked so peaceful. There were no furrowed brows, no frown lines or melancholic eyes, he looked his age. Right then, he didn’t have to be The Savior, he didn’t even have to be Saeran. You wanted to ask what to do next, since you were exhausted and feeling the need for a shower, but before you did Saeran said:

‘I will summon some Believers to walk you back to your room. It’s late. I’m going to remain here for a while longer.’

‘Ah okay… Can I ask a question?’ You leant up onto your side.

‘Go on.’

‘Who… gave me this?’ You tugged at the black chemise you had been given beforehand. Saeran opened his eyes slightly just to look at what you were referencing before saying:

‘Ray wanted to give you a gift. I thought you’d look best in black.’ He closed his eyes once more. You slid yourself off the altar, moving to press a kiss to his forehead.

‘Thank you. Goodnight, Saeran.’

‘For Paradise.’

‘For Paradise.’

[reogou]

Dating HCs with Kotaro Bokuto

pairing: kotaro bokuto x fem!reader

genre: fluff, nsfw at the end

warning/s: nsfw, smut, pegging, finger-fucking (?), overstimulation

a/n: this is for @janellion for her prize! I'm so sorry it took me so long to make your prize 😭! I think the nsfw was a lot longer than the sfw, just like what you wanted. i hope you enjoy this! ily bb!

credits: to @westxrlund​ for the header’s bg

SFW

Relationship with this owl is tiring but fun. For real. You will have no sleep. You will literally wake up at 3 am because he messages you to say he misses you.

3 am escapades are your relationship goals. He's craving for ice cream? He'll message you in the middle of the night that he'll be there in front of your doorstep in 15 minutes. You miss him? He'll take you to the beach and will make you sit in front of the car while he wraps his arms around your waist, sharing both of your favourite drink while staring at the sea.

But maybe if he's too lazy to drive, movie marathon in the living room while watching your favourite movie with a single blanket covering the both of you. Or if you want to, he'll cuddle you in bed if you cannot sleep.

But if there's an important event tomorrow, like a practice or official match or exam, you'll be the one to make him go to sleep or study because this man has no limits in his clinginess. Baby just want hugs and cuddles please spare him from the pain of having to study-

But even if he's clingy sometimes, he does know that school and match is important. He, after all, wants to become successful for you and your future together.

When you're inside the school, little notes and love letters are never forgotten when it comes to Bo. He'll slid in small notes inside your locker or your bag after you both finished eating lunch together. This man, despite his chaotic self, has good penmanship. And y'all can't tell me otherwise. Though there might be a few messy strokes here and there.

His notes and letters are a bit over the top but that's what you love about him. Though all the contents of it are just him telling you how beautiful you are and how much you love him or just some lame pick-up lines or vines he thought of or saw in the internet.

Mornings with him will probably consist of you being awake so early in the morning because Bokuto wants to jog with you. I swear your legs would be dead by the end of your jog because of how far this man jogs.

This guy loves to eat your cooking. May it be good or bad, he won't let the chance slip of getting to taste the food you cooked no matter how bad it is.

Also, expect music marathon with him too. You'll both be sharing a single earphone while eating chips and reading books or blasting them in the speakers while you two dance under the afternoon sunlight from the windows.

He knows you love reading so when he became a professional player, he uses some of his money sometimes to buy you books you're dying to buy. Will also bring you in a reading café so you both could read while chilling.

During summer, expect beach dates too. He will invite his friends over to go on a vacation with the both of you for a week or two. He loves barbecue so there'll be like barbecue party every two days. Will sneak inside you out on the shore to invite you over a walk by the sea.

Texting with Bo is sweet and funny sometimes. But often times, you just send cheesy text to each other or he'll just send you random funny videos or memes he saved on his phone.

You always make sure to be on his every game to support him and cheer for him. Everytime he scores, his names escapes your lips in a shout to show your undying support for him. Whenever he feels down, you always make sure to cheer him up so that he wouldn't sulk during the game. You are his energizer and personal cheerleader after all. When the game ends, hugging him has always been a ritual for the both of you. If they won the game, you always give him a kiss in the lips as a reward. However, if they lost, your shoulders are always ready for him to cry on while you calm him by running your hands on his back.

Whenever he's down, ice cream with you is always the solution for him. Sitting on the couch while you both enjoy the cold sweet treat as he snuggle close to you and become the small spoon have always been perfect for him.

But of course, there's no such thing as perfect relationship. There will always be a time where you both will have a fight or a misunderstanding, and during those times, you both try your hardest to understand each other and explain both of your sides. Bokuto doesn't like fighting with you. Because he believes it's pointless. But even so, whenever you two got into a fight, Bokuto may be pissed and you may be angry too, but a day or two of clearing up the both of your heads has always been the answer. After a day or two, one of you will step out of their comfort zone and say sorry to the other, depending on who's fault it is.

NSFW

warning/s: please be warned that after this note, nsfw content will greet you. Read at your own risk.

As calm as you both are in the outside, sex with Bokuto was never vanilla. You both always manage to spice things up weather it may be major suck as blindfold or minor such as changing positions. And you always love it. After all, this man has big d energy and you can prove it down there.

His favourite position is you, on all fours, while he rams his cock inside you. He likes seeing your sweaty back, just like how you love his back too. The way your back arc when he hits that sweet spot inside you, he loves seeing it so much, resulting to him pounding you even harder than he already is.

Most times, he likes it sweet and slightly slow. The first time you did it, he was so slow and caring that it was the best experience for you. He likes to see you squirm beneath him while you moan in pleasure, sometimes begging him to go faster. Of course, he would give it to you since he wants you to feel pleasure.

However, this guy can also be so so rough when it comes to the sheets. He'll be ramming his cock deep inside your wet cavern until you can't say anything other than chant his name over and over again. Marks and bruises would be present on your hips and neck cause why not? He loves marking you.

Overstimulation? You got it. This man can make you come almost two times just by his fingers alone. The squelching sounds motivating him to go deeper until he hits that spongy spot you love the most.

He can also be a little shit sometimes. Teasing you by brushing his fingers to your overstimulated front, giving you orgasm denial just so he can see those pretty crystalline tears rolling down your cheeks.

He loves putting hickies all over your body. So much. He will literally bite you everywhere just so he can gaze up and stare at his beautiful handiwork. He also have sensitive neck, and the first time you bit him on the neck, a loud whine escaped his lips from the pleasure.

Sexts is also an often occurrence in your relationship. When he feels horny and you're not together, he would text you in ungodly hours and will tell you how much he misses the feeling of your walls around his fat cock. You would shush him, saying its inappropriate to send horney text, but one message from his commanding you to take off all of your clothes and send him a lewd photo was all it took for you to get horny and obey him. You both end up on a video call while you masturbate and he watches you, hands palming the beast under his boxers as his eyes ogled on your fingers thrusting in and out of your hole, lewd expressions forming on your face.

He's a dom, all the way through. But he has a dirty little secret that he hides from you. He can't see you dominating him, but it's not really impossible. Bokuto hides it, but he's curious about pegging. He had so search the meaning of it in google and when he knew what it meant, he lowkey got hard when he imagined it. You, behind him, while wrecking him with tat straps of yours.

He knows how much of a sub you are, that's why he hid at most of the time. When he tried to tell you about it while you two were cuddling on the bed after 3 rounds, you were a bit shocked. You? Dominating him? Bokuto, who's a hard dom? You were stunned. So shocked that you can only nod your head when he asked you if you're okay with it.

The first time you two did it, Bokuto was so shy that you have to come out of your shell and convince him that it's okay. You both don't know what to do, but Bokuto did some research to help the both of you.

When you put on the strap, it was kinda...awkward and uncomfortable at first. Add the fact that you don't know how to put it on, Bokuto have to help you. When you get somewhat used to it, you reached for the bottle of lube and squirt a good amount on your hands.

Bokuto was lying on his stomach in front of you, his ass high up to help you somehow. When you pressed your fingers on his puckered hole, he jolted in surprise that you almost jumped to. Once he was calmed down, you started spreading the lube around his hole and slowly inserted your finger.

Bo's moan was so good, so erotic that it made your cunt wet just by hearing his moans. When you started thrusting your finger in and out, his moans got more louder from the new pleasure he's feeling. After a while, his hole started relaxing and it was now super easy to insert your finger inside him.

You tried to insert another finger, attempting to imitate his motion when he's the one finger-fucking you. And the reaction made your hole clench, your juices dripping down the strap on your hips. Once Bokuto gave you the go sign that he's already prep enough, you started inserting the dildo inside him.

As first it was a bit hard, since it was your first time and you're still not used to using the strap. But when you found his hole at last, you started inserting the dildo inside him. A loud moan escaped Bokuto's lips, one that's so erotic that even porn actors would envy. It was so erotic, so cute that you got lost in the moment and inserted almost half of it in, making him squirm below you. When he looked over his shoulder to tell you to be more gentle, his face was full of tears, cheeks so red from crying and from too much pleasure he's feeling.

You can't help but to feel so good and started fucking him, but still in a slow way so as to not hurt him any further. His moans were echoing on the four corners of the room, so lewd and so good that you can't help but to thrust a little bit faster. The whole experience was so fun and enjoyable to you even though it was a bit uncomfortable using the strap. But it was worth it nonetheless, since you get to see another side of Bo that you've never seen before.

But man, the aftermath was that your hips and legs were hurting so much as well as your back when you both finished. It was so painful that all you could do was lay on bed. Bokuto felt a little guilty but you assured him that you're okay and that it wasn't his fault. To make up for it, he decided to eat you out.

You were on your back, your legs spread apart as Bokuto dived in on your cunt and licked your clit, making you squirm. He held your thighs firmly to keep them apart and started fucking you using his tongue. The pleasure was so good that tears started forming on the corners of your eyes as Bokuto pleasured you.

Bokuto has always been so good in using his tongue that it was not a surprise that you squirted on your 3rd orgasm. He doesn't want to tire you even more so he stopped and cleaned you up before lying beside you and pulling you close to him, naked bodies locked together between his strong arms.

[rabble-dabble]

The Cancer King's Court ~ The Scourge Sisters

Vriska Serket/The Pirate Queen

Everything in this timeline goes the same as in our timeline up until Terezi confronts Vriska. Terezi can’t bring herself to kill her and Vriska goes off to fight Noir. Noir ignores her and proceeds to slaughter her entire team. Vriska is narrowly able to kill Bec Noir, but it’s too late. Everyone else is dead.

Vriska is overtaken by remorse. Stranded alone on the meteor in a Doomed Timeline of her own making, Vriska is left alone with her thoughts. She tries to make conversation with the humans, but she finds she can’t confess what she did. Eventually, the humans start asking about the other trolls and Vriska stops talking to them.

After a few weeks of stewing in her own grief, Vriska gets an idea. If she can’t fix this problem, then her ancestor surely can. Everything Vriska did was done in a failed imitation of her ancestor’s exploits. Surely the person who did it right would have an answer for this problem. She could fix her mistakes. She could get her friends back. She could fix everything. Vriska dedicates her every second of sleep to finding her dancestor in the dreambubbles.

Vriska eventually tracks down the legendary Marquise Spinnerette Mindfang….. only to find her living in a regular hive. Sure, it was a fancy hive, but that’s every Cobalt’s hive. When she finds the ghost of her ancestor… she finds her lazily writing in her diary. Turns out, Mindfang’s journal was just her own self insert fanfiction. Everything Vriska had imitated, looked up to, and based her own self worth on was a lie. 

Vriska wanders the dreambubbles in a depressive slump when she’s approached by a cloaked version of Aradia. Vriska basically blows up at her, profusely apologizing for everything she did before trailing off as she realizes that this isn’t her Aradia.

“well, this pr0bably d0esn’t mean much t0 y0u, because i’m n0t y0ur aradia, but f0r what it’s w0rth, i f0rgive y0u. we’ve b0th made s0me pretty big mistakes, but it’s n0t t0 late t0 c0rrect them.”

“welc0me t0 the cancer king’s c0urt, vriska serket.”

This Vriska is almost unrecognizable next to her canon counterpart in terms of attitude. She’s here to make amends, but with her confidence smashed and no one to look to for guidance, she doesn’t really know how to do that. That’s why she’s willing to go along with the Cancer King’s plan, despite moral reservations. Honestly, that’s why everyone goes along with what Karkat says. They want the happy ending they were robbed of or they want to fix some huge mistake, they just don’t know how to do that. If Karkat, the guy with the huge heart hidden under all that bluster, says everything will be fine then it surely will right? More pertinent to Vriska, ignoring her friends concerns got everyone killed last time. She’d best listen to the leader of the group this time.

That said, she’s still Vriska. Sweeps worth of ego don’t just vanish. When she goes to apologize to Tavros, Tavros bites back. Vriska angrily points out that she’s not the same Vriska that hurt him and things nearly escalate into a fight until Aradia steps in. After a few rounds of mediation from the Red Death, tensions calm down a little. At least the Pirate Queen is trying to make amends, which is more than can be said for the Beast Master’s Vriska. Neither version of Tavros owes either version of Vriska any kind of forgiveness and they both acknowledge that.

Vriska actually sympathizes with her main timeline counterpart. She gets it. She was there. Literally the only thing that separates the two is a split second decision and a punch to the face. Out of everyone in the Cancer King’s Court, the Pirate Queen is the one who comes the closest to turning her main counterpart over to their side. 

But, while Tavros would never forgive Vriska, Terezi will. Both Terezi and Vriska admit that a relationship between the two of them isn’t feasible. They aren’t the same people from their alternate timelines, so continuing where they left off isn’t really feasible. Instead, Terezi makes a point of keeping Vriska from turning completely self destructive. Yes, she fucked up, but suffering does not equal redemption. Getting herself killed won’t fix the damage she did. 

“TH3 PROS3CUT1ON F1NDS GU1LTY VR1SK4 S3RK3T. BUT YOUR S3NT3NC3 1S COMMUN1TY S3RV1C3, NOT D34TH.”

The two are able to build a genuine friendship, something like what they could’ve had had they grown up somewhere other than Alternia. Vriska even serves as Terezi’s wingman regarding a certain feline hunter, but more on that later.

In combat, the Pirate Queen is the Magnificent that canon Vriska thinks she is. Now that she’s not glory hounding and us just trying to get the job done, she’s dangerously effective. She’s consistently misjudged by the Condescension’s forces as that same smug brat who keeps getting her team into trouble. Then they’re caught flat footed when Vriska fights smart and doesn’t take obvious bate. On the manipulation side of things, Vriska’s able to play up her remose and genuine desire to atone to earn people’s trust. It’s all technically true, they just don’t know how she intends to atone. It’s far more effective than the blunt mind control past Vriska would’ve gone for.

Vriska is every bit the dangerous, competent, complex, anti-villain she used to think she was. Difference is, now she doesn’t enjoy it.

Terezi Pyrope/The Hung Jury

Terezi’s timeline was exactly the same as ours up until one crucial point. Terezi was quick to notice when Vriska went God-Tier, so she decided to preemptively go God-Tier to match. Once immortal, Terezi’s precognition goes into overdrive and she’s able to instantly see into the future where Vriska makes the choice boost up Bec Noir and get everyone killed. She realizes that, for whatever reason, she doesn’t actually want Vriska dead, so she dedicates herself to trying to reason Vriska down. She sees the negative impact it would have on her to kill Vriska, after all. Vriska is confused by this abrupt change in behavior and so her responces are a mixed bag. As such, she ends up getting a lot closer to Vriska a lot quicker than in our timeline, but she isn’t quiet able to deter her either. Terezi understands what makes Vriska tick, far moreso than in canon, but she doesn’t understand how to rewire her. It doesn’t help that, from Vriska’s pov, her rival and kismesis is suddenly pale flirting with her.

So, when the time comes for her to kill Vriska to stop Bec Noir, Terezi can’t go through with it. Then the predictable happens. Vriska dies fighting against Noir, but Terezi manages to best him while he’s weak. Doesn’t change the fact all of her friends are dead because of her failure to act. Terezi isn’t sure what to make of her failure as she’s stuck floating on a meteor in a doomed timeline. She can’t think that killing Vriska would’ve been the right thing to do, because she was so close to redeeming her. But, her failure to do that got everyone killed. She starts to miss the days where Vriska was just the person who blinded her. When Vriska was just someone she wanted dead.

So, when the Cancer King approaches her about fixing her mistake, Terezi counters that she doesn’t even really know what her mistake was. She tried her best, made logical choices, tried to save everyone. What went wrong?

Karkat tries again. Saying that it’s unfair that she arguably tried to do everything right, but inexplicably failed anyways. Again, Terezi shuts him down. She’s getting the vibe that the only reason he’s having this conversation is because he fucked something up and, knowing Karkat, it probably wasn’t his fault. So she presses at his motive and Karkat explains his plan. Terezi remarks that it’s… incredibly cruel by his standards. Realizing that she’s unswayed, Karkat tries to drive his point home. He takes them to doomed, hopeless timelines that otherwise can’t be salvaged. If he gains control over the narrative, he can fix these. Terezi just asks him to take them to the timelines he’s already visited, see first hand what kind of damage he’s doing. This back and forth continues for awhile.

At one point, Terezi closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Words start to spill out. Words that seem wiser than her. Above her somehow.

She briefly wonders if the Terezi from Karkat’s timeline is speaking through her somehow. She’s more right than she realizes. 

“K4RKL3S… OK4Y, NO. DROPP1NG TH4T. K4RK4T. 1 DON’T KNOW WH4T H4PP3N3D 1N YOUR T1M3L1N3. 1 DON’T KNOW WHO D13D OR 1F 1’M 3V3N 4L1V3 1N YOUR T1M3L1N3. BUT, 1 KNOW TH4T NON3 OF US, NON3 OF TH3M, WOULD W4NT TH1S. SO WHY DO YOU W4NT TH1S? NO M4TT3R WH4T H4PP3N3D, NO M4TT3R WH4T YOU D1D, W3 WOULDN’T W4NT YOU TO HURT 4NYON3. 1 KNOW YOU'R3 TRY1NG TO S4V3 3V3RYON3. 1 TR13D TO S4V3 3V3RYON3 TOO. BUT 1T D1DN’T G3T M3 4NYWH3R3.

1 GU3SS WH4T 1’M TRY1NG TO S4Y 1S, SH1T H4PP3NS? TH4T F33LS L1K3 SOM3TH1NG TH4T D4V3 WOULD S4Y H3R3 4T L34ST. BUT, NON3 OF TH4T W4S YOUR F4ULT. YOU DON’T H4V3 TO BL4M3 YOURS3LF FOR G3TT1NG FUCK3D BY F4T3. 1 SUR3 WOULDN’T 4ND 1 KNOW TH3 M3 FROM YOUR T1M3L1N3 WOULDN’T. B3C4US3 W3 KNOW YOU TR13D YOUR B3ST. W3 KNOW YOU C4R3D 4BOUT US, 3V3N B4CK WH3N YOU W3R3 TO B1G OF 4N 4SSHOL3 TO S4Y 1T OUT LOUD. YOU D1D WH4T YOU COULD 4ND YOU D1D 4S W3LL 4S YOU COULD. 1SN’T TH4T 3NOUGH?”

Karkat stands there, far off in a way Terezi couldn’t quiet imagine. For just a minute, it looked like he might walk away.

There was still time. He could find an easier solution. He didn’t need to hurt anyone. 

…Karkat dismisses it as wishful thinking.

The Cancer King gives her a glimpse of the main timeline and the ruined state that it’s in. He shows her everything that’s been lost. Everyone who died. He shows her the image of a bloodparched Empress tearing through reality. 

“I KNOW… THIS PROBABLY ISN’T THE RIGHT THING TO DO.“ 

He chokes on the words, taking a deep breath before continuing. 

“BUT IT’S THE ONLY CHOICE I HAVE.”

Terezi’s gaze into the future reveals nothing. There’s only so far a doomed Seer of Mind can see. So her only choice is too believe him.

As a member of the team, Terezi serves as Karkat’s moral conscious even more so than Aradia does. Aradia keeps things in perspective for the group as a whole, while Terezi forces Karkat to consider his motives. Why are we going after these people? They aren’t God-Tiers and you swore you’d only absorb God-Tiers to keep from becoming as bad as the HIC. It helps that it isn’t just The Hung Jury that’s speaking to Karkat. Main Terezi, after dying and appearing in the Dreambubbles, has found a way to speak through her alternate timeline counterparts via a Heart artifact she got from Nepeta. She’s been trying to use The Hung Jury to redeem Karkat, but the Jury is becoming increasingly aware of her interference and is starting to hunt her down.

Terezi is a bit awkward around the Pirate Queen at first. A Vriska who is looking to atone for everything she did is uncomfortably close to what Terezi almost achieved. Still, she doesn’t hold that against her. Honestly, the two tend to act as moirails here. Terezi keeps Vriska from turning into a self loathing mess, while Vriska keeps Terezi distracted from her own guilt. Killing so many people in the name of the greater good weighs on her mind, and the only way Vriska knows to handle that is too keep her distracted. This has the added benefit of making main Terezi rethink her relationship with her own Vriska, seeing how comparatively healthy this one is.

At the advice of Nepeta (who I can assure you has been taking notes on this entire relationship), Vriska tries to help Terezi fill her other quadrants. Karkat is an immediate no, as his fuck ups with his own Terezi are still fresh in his mind. The others on the list turn her down for other reasons. Lack of interest, already taken, or have other quadrants to maintain. At Vriska’s suggestions, Terezi constantly ends up going back to Nepeta for advice about her latest target. Nepeta happily lists all the pros and cons about that particular relationship, points out all the things they might, and even roleplays with Terezi to practice her confession. Those meetings keep getting longer, Nepeta’s advice keeps getting more detailed. Nepeta starts slipping out of character in their roleplays more. Meanwhile, Vriska is watching from a distance with a shit eating grin and giving herself the greatest wingman award.

…Main Terezi is in denial about this having any effect on how she views her Nepeta. Not developing a crush, no siree.

As an active agent, Terezi tries to only target people she views as actively guilty. Not only will she set up large swaths of the Condescension’s army to be absorbed by the Cancer King, but she actively tries seeking out evil people so that she can bring justice down upon them. It helps her head rest easier. Terezi’s a consumate manipulator already, conning doomed players is a cinch. When The Hung Jury isn’t doing that, she’s actively hunting for her main timeline counterpart. Main Terezi knows better than to tango with a God-Tier version of herself, so she stays one step ahead. 

The Hung Jury is the King’s conscience and right hand strategist. A force to be reckoned with and a mind few can match.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THE WAY THIS HINTS THAT THIS VRISKA IS FROM THE DOOMED TIMELINE THE OG TEREZI CREATED AND ALSO GOD TIER TEREZI ALMOST BEING THE PERSON CONVINVING KARKAT 

THIS IS TASTY OP THIS IS TASTY!!!

Also that neprezi - GOD YOU GUYS ARE ACTIVELY JUST THROWING THAT IN NOW HUH. should I just declare it the next ship on my list?? its the one that snuck its way up there. evil john anon this is SO good this is REALLY good I’m just AAAAAAAAAAAA

Anyway here are your outfits: 

Here’s your Pirate Queen - I imagine with Vriska’s assured blinding confidence gone and the image of her hero being shattered, she’d attempt to find herself while also still trying to seek that familiar ground. She doesn’t look like an awe-inspiring pirate adventure seeker anymore but she still has a fashion sense. What scored me this was this line: 

Vriska is every bit the dangerous, competent, complex, anti-villain she used to think she was. Difference is, now she doesn’t enjoy it.

Like OOF that just hits the mark!!

Terezi’s was more thoughtful, as she is - I imagine she finally takes up that fucking Lady Justice pose and setup but more like morally for Karkat, and I REALLY love what you did with her. I like how she’s the most pressing about his objectives here, because of course she would want to sniff out what this Karkat’s deal was, offering something of this magnitude, and then seeing the damage he caused to the main timeline. This Terezi doesn’t feel like a normal God Tier (although her outfit is heavily inspired so) but rather like a very ultimate mistress of Justice. 

Doesn’t change the fact all of her friends are dead because of her failure to act. Terezi isn’t sure what to make of her failure as she’s stuck floating on a meteor in a doomed timeline. She can’t think that killing Vriska would’ve been the right thing to do, because she was so close to redeeming her. But, her failure to do that got everyone killed.

Everything Vriska had imitated, looked up to, and based her own self worth on was a lie.

The sense of loss and hopelessness in this really drove it home.

[valkirsif]

The drummer

For mine favorite sweety @learisa <3

Sebastian Stan (drummer) x Reader

Warning- Smut!!!! MORE SMUT!! ;)

Word 3500

"What do you want Doll ?" the man asked in a hoarse voice full of excitement,

"I'm listening to you .. " he said smiling at her while continuing to use the drumsticks on her breasts as if he were playing the drums, Y/N was out of breath, she was drowning in pleasure, it seemed to her that Seb had been torturing her for hours holding her on the edge of orgasm, she was jumped on him even before arriving in her room, as soon as the elevator doors were closed the man had pushed her against the glass putting his tongue in her mouth putting his hands on her ass,

"I don't want you to be able to misunderstand the situation" he whispered taking her hand and bringing it on his cock,

"It's to fuck you that I chose you .. and I think it's the same thing you want, don't deny it you're a lake" he laughed putting a finger in her pussy, Y/N hadn't even tried to avoid it, Seb was right he wanted him he fucked her .. she didn't think the evening would end like that when she was getting ready with her friends to go to the concert.

The girls had joined her at her house, she was the closest to the theater and they would not have taken the car,

"Y/N can I wear your red shirt?" Sara screamed from the bedroom,

" Sure .. you can also hold it to me it is no longer" answered the woman laughing putting on the yellow tank top with the drummer's logo that she had worn at every concert, she liked the transparent effect that showed the red bra and her soft tits and full,

"I thought I'd also give you my blue silk sheath dress, I had a new one made" she laughed hearing the cries of joy from her friend ,

"I'm really glad you got fat" Sara replied cheerfully,

"I've always loved that dress" laughed hugging her, it was a special evening .. Y/N celebrated the freedom of being single after 3 years of relationship with a man who he thought was his property, she had regained the pounds that he had made her lose and recognized in the mirror again, buttery and full body, full lips and breasts prosperous than it was back when the same and would have enjoyed yet another concert of his favorite band, had the best tickets, under the stage, she would have enjoyed Seb playing from much closer than usual,

"GIRLS LET US LATE !!" Nicole was screaming from the living room, the group left the house and followed the large group of fans who headed towards the theater, the atmosphere was electric and cheerful, a multitude of people all there for the same reason, the music, took place on the numbered armchairs under the stage and waited for the concert to begin.

The support group had charged the spectators, everyone was dancing and screaming, the screams grew in intensity as soon as the lights went out and they heard the singer greet the audience, Y/N and the friends jumped wildly, the group appeared among the bright flashes greeting before taking her place, the girl focused on Seb , she found him sexier every time she saw him her friends involved her in a dance all together, she was having a lot of fun when she looked back at the man it seemed to her that he was staring, "Surely it's my impression" she said to herself, the lights were very strong it was not possible that he could see it, probably from the stage they saw everything dark hearing only the cries of the fans, during a break in the show they ran to get a drink, it was a hot fierce despite being in the open air but with the tide of people that were there it was normal, even if they had the best seats there was still crowds, they were soaked, Elisabetta was the most far-sighted among them, under the shirt she had put the bikini so she undressed without hesitation, Y/N would have imitated her but the bra was transparent, even though she felt comfortable in her body she was quite shy, she sighed and poured a bottle of water on her head to cool off,

“Hey if you have to play miss wet t-shirt you might as well take it off " Sara laughed taking off her tank top, Y/N blushed trying to cover herself before realizing that no one was paying attention to her .. well almost no one, she turned to look at the stage where the concert had resumed and noticed that Seb was staring at her, this time she couldn't imagine it the man was smiling at her giving her a nod, she smiled her best smile starting to dance for him, at that moment there was only them , she dancing and he playing, smiling, sweaty and beautiful, returned to earth when Nicole took her by the hips to dance,

"PERFECT evening don't you think?" she screamed in her ears,

"After the concert I booked at Yama's",

"Great idea" replied Y/N, "We haven't been there for months" the girls laughed merrily shaking their asses like little girls, Y/N felt great a man approached her touching her shoulder,

"Sorry" he shouted to be heard, her friends gathered around her as if to underline that they didn't want that kind of company,

"You can rest assured I have no annoying intentions" he said laughing,

"Sebastian would like to invite you to dinner after the show .. " he said to Y/N nodding towards the drummer who was watching them at that moment,

"How sorry?" she asked in amazement, staring first at Seb then at the bodyguard, the man smiled at her and repeated the invitation, her friends were speechless and she was speechless, they looked at each other for a moment, none of them would ever refuse or prevent the others from accept turned to the man,

" Er .. ok .. " she stammered,

"Great, this is your pass," he said putting a card around her neck,

"After the show go to the back stage they will take you to the band" he said greeting and retracing his steps, Y/N took the precious card in her hands not believing her eyes,

"I knew those boobs would open many doors for you .. I want a pair too" Sara complained laughing, looking at her shirt,

"That red bra attracts all eyes" laughed Nicole, "Have fun for us too" she laughed,

"I'm stunned I don't believe it yet" replied Y/N returning to dance smiling at Seb , two hours later she walked towards the back stage accompanied by her friends,

"I'll leave you the keys" she said taking a bunch out of her bag and giving it to Nicole, "Wait for me at home .. ",

"You can swear we want all the details .. ALL " they laughed mischievously, an assistant stopped them,

"Pass please" he said, Y/N handed him the card,

"I always pray straight second door on the right" he said giving her directions, the girl greeted her friends and walked away.

When she reached the door she knocked and waited, a bodyguard looked at her sideways blocking the entrance,

"Yes?" he asked seriously, "Are you lost?",

" Er .. Sebastian invited me" she whispered showing the pass,

"Please have a seat" he smiled making her enter, "You don't know how many try to crash" he laughed accompanying her into a sitting room, there were other girls as happy as she,

"The boys are coming right away," the bodyguard said before leaving them alone,

".. you too have been taken aside for the post evening?" asked a girl,

" Yes .. " Y/N replied, "., For Seb too?" she asked curiously, the others waved no, they were one per band member, they were wondering what the evening would be like when the group joined them,

"Hello beautiful" greeted merrily Scot , the singer, "One second and let's go, they are getting the car ready" he smiled, there were embarrassed smiles when the band made the introductions, it was an absurd situation,

"The car is here" said the manager, "The fans are waiting for you outside .. a big smile and let's go", the girls were escorted to the car while the band smiled, took pictures and signed autographs,

"I can't wait to be in the hotel I'm destroyed" Marc said letting himself go on the seat,

".. who do you say .." Seb replied placing a hand on Y/N's knee who squeaked happily,

" Doll if it's okay with you I would order in the room" he said smiling at her,

"Of course no problem" she answered awkwardly, they arrived at the hotel and passed by the garage, a hotel attendant was waiting for them to accompany them to the restaurant, Seb took Y/N by the hand, greeted the others and headed for the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed he pushed her against the mirror kissing her, putting his hands on her ass, Y/N was amazed, she hoped he would kiss her but she didn't expect such a thing,

"How soft you are Doll " he whispered, squeezing her ass,

"I saw you haven't missed a single concert in the last 6 months .. you deserve an award" he laughed,

"Have you seen me the other times?" she asked curiously, she couldn't believe that he had noticed her,

"Sure, tank top and red bra" he replied touching her,

"Hard not to notice these boobs" he laughed touching her breasts, ".. it's exactly how I imagined it .. " he continued to compliment her by kissing her neck, Y/N stopped asking questions by squeezing him, Seb had brought a hand of the girl on the his dick before he creeps into her jeans,

"You are a lake Doll " he said in a hoarse voice inserting a finger inside her while Y/N gently touched him, he had made it very clear how the evening would go and the girl could not wait to be in the room, arrived at the slowly they composed themselves before walking towards the bedroom.

The suite was large and bright, with a big screen in front of the sofa and a fireplace in the corner, colorful carpets covered most of the apartment, Y/N walked around the suite fascinated by so much luxury .. and by the disorder, there were two rooms huge bedroom with private bathroom and a jacuzzi for 5 people, he wondered which was Seb's room and who was occupying the second one,

"I'm ordering dinner, what do you want to eat?" the man asked kissing her neck,

"What you want .. " Y/N replied with goosebumps, ".. I'm hungry" she smiled leaning against him, made herself comfortable on the sofa while Seb was on the phone,

"We have half an hour .. " he said leaning over her,

".. I could start discarding you what do you think?" he smiled pulling off her tank top, the girl let him do she liked the feeling of his hands touching her,

"Up close they are much more beautiful .. " he said looking at her breasts, ".. that bra I have often imagined" he smiled lowering her straps, Y/N moved forward, unfastened her bra and let him take it off,

" It's as soft as I thought" he said excitedly sinking his hands into her boobs, testing their softness, the girl moaned when he squeezed her nipples,

"Don't move .. " he whispered in a hoarse voice going towards the entrance, he came back after a few seconds holding the chopsticks in his hands,

".. I want to hear what sound they make" he smiled turning them over between his fingers, the girl stared at him for a moment understanding what he meant, she smiled at him nodding, the man took a step back and sat down on the table in front of her,

" Seb .. " Y/N said before he started, the man stopped staring at her, ".. can I .. can I have another kiss?" she asked shyly, it was strange to ask to be kissed but she liked the idea of ​​having to ask,

"Anything you want Doll " Seb smiled leaning towards her, took her face in his hands and kissed her running his fingers through her hair,

"Thank you" smiled Y/N still leaning on her knees, the man pushed her towards the sofa,

"You're welcome Doll " he replied sliding the chopsticks on his neck and collarbones, "Stand up straight now" he said in a deep voice, the girl leaned on the sofa putting her hands behind her back, her breasts on display,

"How beautiful you are" he said continuing to go down with his chopsticks on her body, he brushed her inner thigh sliding on her jeans, he played with her pussy through the fabric staring at her, enjoying her moans and her expressions,

".. oh my .. Seb .. " Y/N moaned panting, ".. please don't stop .." she was excited beyond measure,  had wet panties and jeans, the man stopped touching her smiling, he turned his chopsticks between his fingers before starting to "roll" on her breasts, careful not to hurt them too much, her breasts turned red slowly as Seb hit her making her moan and meow with each stroke,

"What a beautiful sound Doll .. " gasped the excited man, "..you're an incredible instrument ..", he stopped "playing" too excited to continue, he lowered his pants and boxers, took her by the hair and fucked her mouth,

".. how wonderful your mouth .." he growled pushing his cock down her throat taking her breath away, Y/N clung to his knees trying to step back but Seb held her tightly continuing to sink into her throat faster and faster,

" FUCK .. " he moaned panting enjoying between her lips, ".. swallow Doll as a good girl" he growled staring at her the girl obeyed with tears in her eyes, no one had ever used her that way but she liked her, she was about to say something when knocked on the door.

Seb broke away from her, composing himself and went to open the door, took the trolley without letting the waiter in and went back to the living room with dinner, Y/N was still on her knees, still aroused and on the verge of orgasm, she looked at the frustrated man,

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked the girl, settling himself comfortably on the sofa,

"I'm hungry .. but not what's under the yokes" she smiled panting as she crawled towards the table, Seb laughed kneeling behind her, stroked her back up towards her neck, slipped a hand over breast playing with the nipples causing her to arch,

"You 're right .. " he said bringing his other hand between her legs, ".. we haven't finished the aperitif .. " he growled kissing her neck, untied her jeans, inserting his hand inside her panties and started to stimulate her continuing playing with her breasts, he inserted two fingers into her pussy moving quickly, putting pressure with the palm on her clit , Y/N moaned opening her legs leaning against him, turned her head to kiss him staring at him,

"Tell it Doll .. " he whispered, biting her neck, ".. say it .. what do you want?",

" Seb please .. " she gasped, "..i need enjoy .. Please .. " cried clouded with pleasure, "..let me enjoy .." the man laughed increasing movements inside her, dug nails in the breast,

"Are you sure?" laughed raging on her body, the girl meowed a "please",

"So enjoy for me Doll .. that's why you are here .. to have fun" Seb said feeling her pussy squeeze his fingers, Y/N enjoyed with a moan kissing him, remained in his arms catching her breath for a few minutes,

"Heaven Seb .. those hands .. " smiled down again straight lacing his fingers with hers, "..you really good with your hands," the two made themselves comfortable and dined, now is she hungry .. hunger for food and hunger of him, she was waiting for the moment when he would fuck her, she didn't care if on the bed, on the floor or among the dinner plates she wanted to feel him inside her.

After dinner Seb got up and took her hand,

"Shall we move the party?" he asked taking her to the bedroom, Y/N smiled following him,

"I need a shower.. come" smiled the man undressing, Y/N stopped to stare at him while he undressed, how beautiful he was, his body covered in tattoos sweaty and muscular, he turned towards her and finished taking off her clothes,

"Beautiful, look at that ass .. " he said to himself giving her a full hand spanking, the girl laughed nervously following him into the bathroom, the shower was spacious with a sandstone bench it looked like a cave, Seb opened the water which gushed from the wall like a waterfall, took Y/N in his arms dragging her under the jet, stuck his tongue in her mouth without delicacy, he was excited again the girl felt his cock against her thigh,

"Can we take it slow please?" she asked as soon as Seb stopped kissing her by biting her neck, she felt his hands everywhere squeezing and scratching, the man looked at her like a predator and smiled at her,

"Calm?!" he asked excitedly, "It's a word I do n't know .. " he said pushing her against the glass by turning it, Y/N moaned halfway between excited and frightened her breasts pressed against the cold glass, the water slipping over their bodies,

".. I think I'll take this nice ass .. what do you think?" he asked in a snarl opening her legs with his knee, he held her still by keeping a hand on her neck, brought his free hand between her legs playing with her clit , making her arch,

"You're a little bitch aren't you Doll ?" he said starting to push his cock into her ass, slowly enjoying her moans, "You have a beautiful voice .. " he laughed entering her, remained motionless until Y/N relaxed,

" Seb .. softly .. " she meowed helpless nailed to the glass,

" Shhh won't you tell me I'm hurting you .. " he whispered continuing to circle her clit , ".. I feel you like it .. I feel your pussy asking for more .. ",

" I .. Seb .. " she moaned, arching more, ".. please ..",

"Please what Doll ?" he laughed moving quickly in his ass, "You're the type to ask right?",

the girl nodded moaning,

"So ask .. I want to hear you beg .. " he said, fucking her hard, he left her neck pulling her leg up to possess her better by sinking into her,

" OMG .. " Y/N yelled out of her mind, ".. FUCK ME .. take all I am" she gasped, the man bit her neck growling before putting two fingers in her pussy, the girl threw her head back . . she felt it everywhere in her,

"What a paradise to fuck a woman like you .. " Seb panted, possessing her determined, ".. soft .. hot .. uninhibited .. ", the atmosphere seemed electrified between the steam of the shower, the two moaned and panted lost in ecstasy,

"Good Doll take it all little bitch .. " he grunted entering her completely, ".. don't you dare to enjoy" he said biting her, she felt she was on the edge but wanted to enjoy it again, Y/N meowed desperately,

" I .. I ca n't .. I ca n't resist .. " she gasped, heard the man laugh pushing into her, continued the assaults without giving her respite,

"Now you can .. " he whispered he felt her pussy squeeze his fingers, the girl tried to cling to the glass for the force of the orgasm, "..DOLL .." he growled enjoying embraced her body trembling, he leaned on her back catching my breath by stroking her back,

"Best fuck ever" he gasped, Y/N laughed with him turning and putting her arms around his neck, they kissed and finished showering before going to bed,

"I'll let you sleep" Y/N said looking for her clothes scattered around the room, "Er, will you call me a taxy ?" she asked, Seb pulled himself up on one elbow looking at her questioningly,

"Aren't you going to sleep?" he asked puzzled,

"I thought you wanted to sleep .. " Y/N replied,

"Yes, I am destroyed and I would like you to stay for the night" he replied calmly, "If you don't have someone waiting for you at home", the girl smiled as she slipped into bed, the evening was going better than she hoped,

".. I would like your number" Seb said squeezing it, ".. I wish I could slip into your panties again when I get back to town",

".. ok .." she replied before falling asleep.

[imaginingsoftly]

Four Hours - Nolan Patrick

Type: Friends to lovers, Y/N insert shorts

Requested: No

Warnings: just swearing

(Y/N = Your name)

Y/N wrapped her hands around her ceramic travel mug and squinted at Nolan in the pre-dawn darkness. “Nols, why are we up so early and why is there camping stuff in the car?” Nolan stopped putting blankets into the trunk to smirk at her, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s a surprise.” Y/N rolled her eyes, and turned around with a huff to allow the heat blasting through the vents to roll over her face again. The coffee in her mug wasn’t nearly warm enough for the chill that the early Edmonton morning brought, even with the sweatshirt she was wearing and the blanket covering her shoulders and torso. 

Nolan went back inside for yet another round of stuff. The stubborn ass wouldn’t let her help pack the car, apparently too worried that she would figure out where they were going. He reappeared with a bag of something in his hand, finally climbing into the driver’s seat. “You know,”, Y/N started with a glare, “if I had known volunteering to come with you to your cousin’s wedding was going to come with 4am wakeup calls and unexpected road trips, I wouldn’t have come.” 

The boy next to her snorted, reaching into the bag to pull out a blueberry muffin, her favorite. She took it with a smile. Nolan put the car into reverse, looking at her briefly before turning around to back out of the driveway. “Bullshit. You love impromptu road trips. The first night I met you you convinced me to drive to the beach with you.” Y/N smiled and took a bite out of the muffin. That had been a fun night. 

“So? It wasn’t that far.”

Nolan stopped backing out, slamming the car into the park to look at Y/N incredulously. “It was one in the morning, and the beach was four hours away!”

Y/N raised one eyebrow, pursing her lips.“Four hours isn’t that far.” He snorted again, putting the car back into reverse. “Philly to Jersey City is way too far for a night time road trip.”  

“Says you.”

The pair remained mostly silent for the first hour, speaking only when Nolan asked Y/N to play some music. Fleetwood Mac floated through the speakers of Nolan’s car as the sky began to lighten and the road went on endlessly. Y/N smiled, taking advantage of the growing light to look at the boy next to her. His hair was shorter, as he tends to like it in the summertime, hidden underneath that ratty old Red Sox hat she could never seem to convince him to replace. It’s good luck, Y/N, he had said. I was wearing it when we met, and I found a baseball buddy for life. 

It was times like these that she wondered what life would be like if they were actually together, and not just in some kind of weird in between. Two years of great friendship, filled with impromptu adventures and tons of hugs as the last year put a strain behind a smile she saw even less than when they first met. It would be so easy to say it, to just yell I love you to fill the silence, but what they had was too good to risk losing. 

Nolan glanced over, and a ghost of a smile flew across his lips when he saw her staring at him. “What’cha looking at, Red Sox?” She grinned at the old nickname, shaking her head softly. “Just thinking about how much I wish I could stay here all summer.” Nolan smiled for real this time, reaching over to squeeze one of her hands. “I wish you could too. I miss seeing your stupid face every day.” Y/N’s heart tugged when he smiled for real. A genuine smile was hard-fought and rare to come by, and she’d learned from the beginning to cherish the moments you got to see one. 

It took four and a half hours. Four and a half hours of highways that gradually turned hilly and then forest-y, and finally they were there. Moraine Lake, the middle of nowhere, Alberta. “Uhm, Nols, why did we drive four hours to camp? Are there no camping spots in Edmonton? I thought four hours was way too far for a road trip?”

Nolan rolled his eyes. “It’s not nighttime. Get out of the car. We have a short walk, and we can come back for the camping stuff later.” 

Y/N made a face and imitated Nolan’s talking, which elicited another eye-roll and an impatient “lets go”. She jumped out of the car with a huff and stomped over to Nolan. He threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her in close and slapping the bill of her Sox hat with the other hand. “I promise it will be worth the early morning, okay? I’ll even buy you Tims after.” 

“It’s not Dunkin, but fine.” She mumbled, adjusting her hat. “It’s the Canadian Dunkin, sweetheart, and it’s even better.” Oh here we go again. It was an argument they’d had since the day they’d met, and it was never ending. Y/N tried not to let her heart tug too much at the casual pet name, instead choosing to trudge forward silently. 

The hike took no time, or maybe it took a ton and walking with Nolan just made it pass quickly. They reached the spot he was clearly shooting for, and he looked at her face nervously as the lake came into view. It was a glacial lake, and it looked almost identical to...

“This is that place in the picture you showed me a while back. The one you said looked like what you’d imagine heaven is like?” and there it was. Nolan reached down and swiped a finger across Y/N’s cheek, and she realized with a start that she was crying. “Nols, this is,” she trailed off with a shuddering breath taking in the water through tear-filled eyes. It was exactly like the picture, but the air somehow felt even cleaner than the picture gave it credit for and the lake was even more blue. 

Nolan stepped behind Y/N and wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing lightly as he rested his chin on top of her hat. “I came here once a long time ago, and when you showed me the picture I knew I had to bring you. When you said it looked like heaven, I remembered having the exact same thought when I came here.”

Y/N put her hands on top of his and leaned some of her weight back into Nolan’s solid chest. “This is heaven. Right now.” Nolan leaned down and kissed her cheek, resting his chin on her shoulder and looking at her face intently. “You and me?” Y/N smiled, turning her head to look at him. “Yeah, Nols. You and me,” she said softly. “I love you, you know that? Like love love.” There, she’d said it. Nolan’s jaw dropped before he smiled. “Finally. So I can kiss you now?”

“Yeah, Nols. You can kiss me now.”

[gogo-karasuno]

Sets and Spikes

Rating: General

Characters: Atsumu Miya, Koume Amatani (OC)

Pairing: Atsumu Miya/Koume Amatani (kind of)

Summary: Atsumu Miya kisses like he sets.

Notes: Written in second person POV. It technically could read like a reader insert with more of a backstory and fleshed out personality. Han-chan is derived from Hantai (Opposite). It should read like a shortened “Little Opposite”

- -

Atsumu kisses like he sets. You find this out the first Tuesday of your personal training camp.

He catches you as you are leaving the Inarizaki gyms. His brown eyes are dancing with a mirth as you wordlessly question him. Stopping for him will be a bad call. Boys with carefree attitudes while oozing confidence are always dangerous. But, you feel like not stopping would be an even worse call. A setter that gives you what you need feels so rare in your life. Offending the only one to match your so far would damn you.

“Where you rushin’ off to?” he asks while falling into your step. He made the decision for you. “After you finish yer personal practice you prance off.”

You are fourteen years old but have nearly nine centimetres over the national average height for women. Among your teammates you are their “Little Captain” and “Our Little Joan”. The next shortest person still has five centimetres on you. That feeling means nothing when you match up against him. There is nearly sixteen centimetres between you and right now you can feel it.

“I don’t prance,” you mumble under your breath. There is a rush of heat to your cheeks. 

You tell yourself it has nothing to do with how he is still handsome with his three-quarters-ugly personality. Nor does it have to do with the confidence and openness only the volleyball court draws out of you.

“Nah. There’s this little graceful bounce.” You watch him try to imitate how he thinks you move. It makes you bite back laughter and smiles; he looks ridiculous. “Matches yer jumps for spikes when ya just appear.”

“Broad jumps add power with decreased shoulder strain.” Deflection to volleyball is safe. Your social skills are at their highest when one of your passions are involved. Sometimes you think that is why you seem to only make volleyball friends. "I'm just quick and nimble when I play. Always have been."

“And that little hop before you receive?”

His observations make you self-conscious. He spends some of his time analyzing your form. It makes sense because he is a setter. Just from your own observation you know his destiny is to become the number one in his division. Him being unobservant would be like being the number five ace without an arsenal of spikes. Or, being an opposite that never learns to be everything beyond a wing spike. You both have idiosyncrises befitting your status.

“A split step.” You chance a glance up to see him looking on with intrigue. “It keeps me ready to move while I analyze the opponents. Probably been muscle memory since fourth year in elementary school.”

He stretches his long body toward the sky while still matching your steps. “This may be the most you’ve said off the court, Han-chan.” 

The face you make at his odd choice in nickname sends him into a fit of laughter.

“You’ve still not told me where yer goin’ this fine Tuesday evening.”

Telling him anything will end in bad news. You know this before you even open your mouth. Even with all of your perceived faults regarding attention span and mercurial interests in subjects you still excel at your academically challenging school. In volleyball, you play with observations as much as intuition. Thinking (and overthinking when things get too quiet) while weighing and acting upon split-second decisions are among your strongest skills. Everything points to a tricky end if you tell the fox sly boy anything.

“A local garden.”

You do not, however, tell him why you are going there. Two days into this camp means your brain is overloading with mental notes you need to write down. This is an arrangement made by your assistant coach (“Please do this. Your talents, drive, and passion will take you so much further than this team can go. Learn from this school.”) for you and you alone. However, you are the captain with a team that depends upon you on, and off, the court. These notes need to be taken down for them. Selfishness with knowledge is an unforgivable offense to you.

Atsumu moves even closer to you then twists down to see your face. “Aren’t ya supposed to have someone with ya, then? Everyone made a big stink about ya get lost real easy.” He laughs. “Sounded like ya could get lost in a straight hallway. Means we’re supposed to watch out for ya.”

Your face burns even brighter than before. With so little distance between you the smell of his cologne mostly overpowers the sweat of a day’s hard played games. It obstructs your thoughts in a way not even your “space cadet” or (uncharitably termed) “lackadaisical” personality does. He is both too close and too far from you at once.

“I’ve got my phone. “ You stare directly into his eyes. Eye contact is difficult sometimes but so is he. “Why are ya suddenly so carin’? Thought I was supposed to be annoyin’?”

“You were before me and ‘Samu found out ya can play on our level. Turns out Five isn’t so bad.”

There goes another of his offhanded compliments that move with the same speed as his insults. Halfway through Monday had you ready to blow up when he kept yelling at the spikers in-game. They were not your problem per say but who treats their teammates like that? Then came his flurry of insults when he was tossing for you one on one. He claims you jump too quickly so you have to strike back. His sets tosses are too slow and too low. You are not fragile. He should give you something that makes you work.

Atsumu seemed to drag out all of your personality including your unexpected, blistering temper.

"We can't have ya gettin lost here. So, I'll be yer guide."

---

Two hours later he has your back to a wisteria tree holding on to the very last of its blooms. One of his large, calloused hands rest near your head while the other grips your hip. How you are here blurs together like the purples, pinks, muddied whites, and decaying brown petals beneath your feet. You think it involved something about a small public garden followed by a fountain and still blooming trees.

Leaning back he burns kisses from the corner of your mouth and up jaw to lean in closer to the shell of your ear. “Yer hesitatin’,” he whispers with a tone you are too dizzy to follow. “Show me that court confidence yer famous for.”

You have no idea how to tell him that he kisses like he tosses for you. This easy, self-assured way that demands you to recognize that he is the best. He pins you down like he pins the weakest receiver to angle for the perfect toss. Nor how he seems to move through your walls the way he opens the way for his spikers. There is unyielding determination while he drags his lips down the side of your throat while his hand trails up the opposite side of your body. He gives the best and demands to have it reciprocated. 

One of your hands twists up to tangle in dyed blond hair. You yank his burning lips back up to your own. If he kisses like he sets then you will kiss like you spike. Leaping displays of power that allow you to be everywhere at once. A plunging, coursing confidence that no matter what you do things will work out. People accuse you of leaping before you look. They miss that you always glance so you know where to take the best chances. Pausing kills the act. 

Atsumu pulls back to look down at you with mischief alight in his eyes. His lazy smirk. Something in you impresses him. “Knew ya had it in ya to kiss like that.”

You kiss him again to shut him up.

[pidayforpi]

“Hey laddie.”

Rory McDuckula beckoned the gosling with his hoarse yet elegant voice.

Heinrich paused in his reading. How he hoped that old vampire wasn’t calling him. But without any other person in the castle room, the vampire duck must be referring to him.

Yet, Heinrich pretended that, perhaps, Rory was calling Duckula, who might had just entered the room. He tried to focus on his book, stopping his trembling hands.

“You, laddie. You.”

Rory called a second time. There’s no escape. Heinrich knew he must answer, out of courtesy, out of fear.

He slowly turned around, heart racing, eyes wide opened, and looked at the master of the house in his blood-red eyes.

“Y-y-yes, m-mister Mc-Mc-McDuckula...?”

Despite his constant self-reminder, Heinrich still couldn’t kick off his old habit of stuttering. He couldn’t blame himself - He was facing a master wampire, and his ol’ doctor wampire hunter wouldn’t let him forget how dangerous wampires were.

“C’mere.”

Heinrich instinctively followed the order, closing the book without inserting the bookmark first. He could feel his pale yellow feathers stood up, his body uncontrollably shaking. And he knew the vampire could notice this as well.

“Y-y-yes, s-sir...?”

Heinrich politely asked Mister McDuckula what his request was, to which Rory snickered.

“Jugular.”

An adjective. No noun. No verb. And Heinrich already knew what Rory was up to.

There’s only one thing a vampire wanted to do with a mortal’s jugular vein.

Heinrich felt his heart sink. He remained silent, hoping to buy some time, at least delay his suffering for a bit. Despite being a vampire hunter’s assistant (and a budding vampire hunter), he knew he was no match for Rory. Even if Heinrich refused his offer, Rory could easily force his prey to accept his request.

Seeing how reluctant his prey was to offer himself, Rory got up from his chair, and took a step forward.

“You think ‘Glen Sparrows Hotel’ accept cash? Credit card? That I would allow you two in my castle without a price?”

“N-n-n-n-n-nein, s-s-s-s-sir...”

Rory grinned, showing his sharp, white fangs.

“Then you know what to do.”

Heinrich looked down at the wooden floor, silent.

He was going to be a vampire hunter. He shouldn’t go down without a fight. After all, since he first saw the “hotel manager” and immediately knew that the manager was a vampire, he knew a fight was inevitable. He could tell a vampire just by looking at them. Unfortunately.

But a huge part of him knew that fighting was futile. Even without using force, a glance into the vampire’s crimson eyes, and Heinrich would be wilfully offering his blood to his new “master”. A vampire of this class must knew some sort of hypnotism.

Heinrich walked backward for one step.

Rory walked forward for two steps.

Heinrich walked backward for two steps.

Rory walked forward for four steps.

Heinrich could no longer walk backward. His foot had hit a wall.

Rory no longer needed to walk forward. His prey had hit a dead end.

Heinrich’s frantic eyes darted left and right, searching for anywhere to run, anyone to ask for help. Nowhere to run, no one to ask for help.

“Now, don’t try to get away.”

The old vampire loomed over the young gander.

“You run, and I will catch you. You scream, and I will make you shut up...”

Rory traced a finger up the gander’s neck, finishing with a pinch.

“...the hard way.”

Heinrich felt his pupils shrinking to an unbelievable smallness.

Huffing and puffing, as if his heart was about to burst out.

Holding onto the reading table, as if he was about to jump out of his feathers.

The old vampire duck was getting grumpy at the youngster’s “indecisiveness”.

Rory backed down for a bit, and issued an ultimatum that would push Heinrich against the wall.

“Either you, or the doctor gets it.”

With just one conditional offer, the vampire duck successfully broke the hunter gander’s will.

Pupils dilating.

Heart stopping.

Hands loosing.

Rory knew his plan worked when the gosling’s yellow feathers bleached.

“I was craving for ganders, you see. Wampire hunter ganders.”

The Scottish duck’s imitated German accent reminded Heinrich of his Doctor Von Goosewing.

His teacher. His idol. His father figure.

He could see his dear doctor fallen prey to the master vampire in front of him. Dr Otto Von Goosewing, Greatest Wampire Hunter in Ze World, lying motionless in a pool of blood. His own blood.

With Rory lying next to him, sinking his razor-sharp fangs into the old gander’s jugular vein, feasting on the fresh, crimson blood.

And Heinrich was around the corner, watching helplessly as his closest one had his life sucked out. Alive, painfully.

All because of his cowardice.

All because of his incompetence.

How many times had he abandoned his dear teacher during vampire-hunting expedition? He would hide at the entrance of the castle, or outside of the secret tunnel.

Even stay behind on the Zeppelin.

But the doctor would never blame him. He was still young, after all, and him getting hurt was the last thing the doctor wanted to see.

Out of fear, Heinrich put his teacher in danger many, many times, letting the elderly gander venture into the beasts’ lairs alone.

And now, he was given the chance to save his own life, in exchange with his teacher’s. The key to life was the doctor’s death.

Heinrich wouldn’t allow that. Not anymore.

The doctor had risked his life to protect his so many times, it’s Heinrich’s turn to risk his life.

“Don’t keep an elderly waiting, hmm?”

Rory was getting impatient.

“Keep your beak shut, and I will take both of you.”

The vampire duck crossed his arms, fingers tapping, foot stomping.

Heinrich didn’t need the warning. He had already made up his mind.

He let go of the table edge, and stepped forward.

“Take mein...”

He managed to utter without stuttering. For once.

“What?”

Rory didn’t expect such a response from the person who had just been scared for his life.

“Take mein blood.”

Heinrich repeated, again without stuttering.

Rory looked at the gander for a while. Although he was still holding his head down, Rory could see the determination in his eyes.

But a deal is a deal.

“Well, don’t mind me then...”

Rory licked his chops tauntingly. He didn’t wait for Heinrich to walk to him. A yank at the collar of the gander’s clothes, and Heinrich was within biting range.

Looking behind the vampire duck, staring at the exit to the room, Heinrich could only wish the vampire would keep his promise, and his dear doctor would use this time to run away.

And hope that his teacher wouldn’t miss him too much.

Rory pulled Heinrich into a hug, pushing away clothing around his neck. Sparing no time, Rory located the blood vessel, held its approximate area close to his beak,

and bit.

Heinrich knew he was bitten. He knew the vampire duck had started his feast.

But somehow, it didn’t hurt. Not even a little bit. And he couldn’t feel his life being sucked away. Did master vampire know some sort of paralysis techniques, that would numb their victims?

Heinrich doubted it. The doctor should had told him everything about vampires.

3, 5, 10...10 seconds later, and Heinrich still couldn’t feel pain.

That Scotsman was playing with him, biting with his beak instead of his fangs.

Heinrich could tolerate dying a prey, but not a toy.

“Just get on with it! You, you...”

Heinrich shouted the only curse words he knew.

“You wampire willian...!”

As soon as he finished his first-time cursing (sort of), he felt something covering his head from behind. Everything went black all of a sudden.

Heinrich pushed Rory away, strangely without difficulty, and tried to get the object off his head. He took it off, and it was none other than the Scotsman’s own Tam o’ Shanter.

The owner of the cap was laughing wildly, his hands holding his abdomen in pure amusement. Heinrich held the broad cap, confused, but still cautious with the vampire duck.

Finishing with a wipe of tears, Rory gave the most unexpected explanation (to Heinrich, at least).

“I was just messing with you, boyo.”

Heinrich stood still without response.

“It was a joke! A prank! Or whatever you kids call it.”

Heinrich looked down, with his eyes wide and beak slightly open.

“I wasn’t trying to eat you or your...well, guardian. Both of you are of wrong collar sizes! Not my cup of tea. Or, well, blood.”

Rory continued giving his explanation on his “harmless” behaviour just now, oblivious to the shaking gander in front of him.

Until Heinrich dropped his Tam o’ Shanter, and let out a devastated wail.

Of all the responses Rory expected, Heinrich crying was not one of them. He expected Heinrich to be surprised, to be embarrassed, or even take out a stake-and-hammer and stab him in the chest.

But no. What Rory had to deal with was a crying little gosling, traumatised from the near-death experience, scared of the monster threatening to eat him and his beloved.

Caught off guard, now it’s Rory that was panicking.

Living a secluded life, how would he know how to handle a crying child?

He wouldn’t have to now. Unfortunately.

“Wow, Heinrich! What happened?”

Duckula opened the room door to see the bizarre scene. A scenario even the zaniest duck in Transylvania found weird.

“We were off practising for the Highland Games for half-an-hour, and you are already bullying poor little Heinrich?”

Duckula rushed to Heinrich’s side, patting him on his soft feathered head, while accusing the elder vampire duck. Rory couldn’t deny it, but also didn’t want to admit it.

Just when Rory was about to make up an excuse, the last person he wanted to see entered the room.

“Heinrich? Heinrich!”

Dr Von Goosewing pushed open the door, dashing to his assistance and giving him a warm, big hug. Goosewing didn’t have time to scold Rory - leave that to Duckula - all he cared now was his dear assistant.

Among the awkward situation, Rory was a bit disappointed he couldn’t praise the gosling crying on the floor. Even if it was just a prank, he displayed great heroism for his beloved Doctor Von Goosewing, overcoming his cowardice and fear, sacrificing himself for someone else. Such quality was seldom seen in men, let alone malicious, selfish vampires.

But for now, Rory really needed to re-examine his sense of humour...

(8-5-2020 ~ 10-5-2020)

[pkducklett]

“Roll For Initiative”-A Secret Satan Fic

Now Available On Ao3!

Hello @iceway145, I was your Secret Satan this year! I hope a game of Gargoyles and Gravel is a fun day off activity you were looking for. I also hope your holiday was the right amount of spookiness that tops off to a good rest of the year!

Characters: Miss Pauling, Scout, Engineer, Pyro, Heavy, Sniper, Demo, and Soldier.

Rating: General

Summary: Miss Pauling plays Game Master to the mercenaries through a haunted house in a fun game of Gargoyles and Gravel.

‘The fog clears as the wind rushes past you. With it every candle in the room is snuffed out with one single “Whoosh”’

“Oh crap? Is that bad?”

“We won’t know unless you shut up, Scout.”

‘It is pitch black. It is dead quiet. In the quiet, you can faintly hear scattering of claws from the lower floor. High pitched voices speak in hushed tones. Then! A flash a light manifests above your party! It hovers for a while before-’

“I’m sorry, Miss P, but what just happened?”

“Well, you are witnessing a floating orb that manifested above you guys.” Miss Pauling explained. She sat at the end of the table behind a cardboard screen propped up to cover her notes. Around the table were her players, seven of the nine mercenaries who agreed to test run her campaign. She had been pleasantly surprised that Engie and Demo already knew how to play, and helped in the disastrous character building process. She still couldn’t believe Scout had suggested playing a gun wielding bard. 

“Okay, but like. Is this somethin’ that’s suppose to happen?” Scout, the half-elf bard, had been asking questions like this all night.

“It’s Gargoyles and Gravel.” Engie, the dwarf cleric, was running low on his patience. “If she says it happens, then it does boy.”

“Mmmph!” Pyro, the half-devil sorcerer, gleefully clapped their hands.

“No, mate. I don’t think setting the orb on fire is a good idea.” Sniper, the wood elf ranger, tapped his pen on his character sheet. 

“Ms. Pauling.” Heavy, the half-orc barbarian, folded his hands and looked thoughtfully to her. “What do we know about this orb?”

She shuffled some papers behind her GM screen. “Uh, roll me an arcana check.” 

“Arcana is for what skill?”

“Intelligence.” Demo, the half-dragon paladin, replied. In one hand he held his 20 sided die, and in the other was his half drunk bottle of scrumpy. “Here, I’ll roll too.” He dropped his die to the table. “Well, I apparently dun believe in magic. That’s a 3 fer me.”

“Okay, what did you roll Heavy?” 

“I rolled 17. That is good, right?”

Demo leaned over, checking Heavy’s character sheet. “Be sure to add your modifier.” He whispered.

Heavy nodded. “Yes, of course, I rolled 18 then Ms. Pauling.”

‘As Malac looks up at the orb, he gets the sense that he’s seen this type of magic somewhere before. Perhaps back at the mines. An overwhelming sense of-’

“Wait! The mine’s is where we killed all those people” Scout once again interrupted. “And picked up Soldier.”

“Yes!” Soldier, the human fighter (who joined mid-session when Medic killed his in game character to go to the store and get beer), piped up with cheerful ignorance. 

“Yes, that is where we met Jane Doe.” Miss Pauling sighed. Why did she let Soldier name his character that? “Now if I can continue, please?”

‘An overwhelming sense of dread comes over you. As you all watch the orb, it floats over to the basement doorway. Illuminating a keyhole on the doorknob.’

“Oh, Snipes, ya still got the key we picked off the Doc’s corpse?” Engie snapped to attention. 

“Mmmph mmph.” 

“No, burning down the door ain’t gonna help us here, Firebug.”

Sniper looked down at his sheet. “Yeh. It’s right ‘ere. ‘Key with no master’.” He pointed to one specific line on his inventory list. 

“Well, try the door laddie.” Demo piped up before taking a swig of alcohol.

“Okay. I take the key, and I try to turn the lock with it.” Sniper emphasized his words with his hands. 

Miss Pauling rubbed her hands together. 

‘Ololar inserts the key and turns. The door swings out before him, revealing a dim stairwell.’

“Mmmph mmmmph!”

“No! We ain’t gonna use fire on this, Pyro!”

“Mmmph mph?” 

“Because we are in a wooden structure and we’d all burn to death!” Engie explained, aggravated. 

Pyro pointed to their character sheet “Mmmmph mmmph mmph.”

“Yes, I see the part that says you’re resistant to fire.” Engie pointed to his own sheet “But I am showing you the part that says my character is not! No fire, period.”

“Ladies please!” Scout snapped “Okay, so there’s stairs to the basement. The place we heard that’s cursed? And we’re just gonna go down there?”

“Pretty much laddie. I reckon we go down there if we wan the story to continue.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Miss Pauling confirmed.

“Okay, just making sure.”

She turned her attention back to Sniper “You want to lead the party down the stairs, Sniper?”

After a quick glance at his sheet, he shook his head. “Not with my defense at 13, I don’t.” 

Soldier got up like he was about to speak. 

“Heavy will go first.” Heavy spoke before the other mercenary had the chance to.

“Okay Malac first, then-” 

Demo raised his hand. “Iorhazar”

Scout practically tripped on the table to get his hand up. “Riword”

Pyro held up their hand, and reaching over, high-fived Scout’s. “Morxes”

Engie gently pulled Pyro back to their seat. “Gramrak”

She pointed to Sniper, “You wanna go next or…” She got a nod in response. Making a few notes, she continued “Okay that means Jane will be bringing up the rear. Got that, Soldier?”

“Yes. I am going in the rear.”

“That means last, Soldier.”

“Yes. I am going in the last.”

“Moving on.” She held her gaze on the group.

‘As you walk down the stairs, you get the sense that you are being watched. It’s as if the house is alive and is tracking your steps. The creaks in the stairs are enough to put you on edge. You walk slowly. Slowly you reach the bottom of the stairs. There’s a door right at the bottom, it is old, and wet. It smells of mold and decay. The moldy door is slightly ajar. You can hear the faint murmur of high-pitched voices inside. Soldier, I mean, Jane recognizes their speech as the Goblin tongue.’

“Goblins? So what’re they sayin’ Soldier?” Demo asked encouragingly. 

“Uh, what are the Goblins saying Miss Pauling?” Soldier whispered.

“Only an ounce more blood and the ritual is complete.” She said in her best Goblin voice “No give it here, Leechnose, you’re doing it wrong. No! No!” she giggled imitating two Goblins fighting over something in a tug-of-war.

Soldier looked at her blankly. 

She coughed, composing herself. “That’s what they’re saying Soldier, you might want to let your party know what you heard.”

He turned to the rest of the mercenaries “What she said.”

“So they’re doing some sorta ritual?” Engie rubbed his hand over his chin. “Wonder what for?”

“Perhaps it is same as curse that killed doktor?” Heavy suggested. 

“What, the desire for more beer?” Scout asked.

“In game, Scout.” Engie put his forehead in his hand. “But that is a good point, Heav. What if the curse that killed Doc and the Goblin ritual are connected?”

“Then I would advise we continue cautiously, we don’t know what-” Sniper began.

“Miss Pauling, I kick down the door!” Soldier interrupted. 

“That is exactly what we shouldn’t be doin in this situation, man!” Scout shouted.

‘Jane pushes his way through the group and busts down the door. Inside he sees…’ 

She paused to roll some dice. 

��Four Goblins. Two are standing closer to the door and the other two are back against the edge of the room. “Who in the nine hells is yous?” the larger of the two back Goblins screeches.’

Silence.

“He was talking to you, Soldier.” Miss Pauling whispered. 

“I am Soldier.”

“Your character, their talking to your character, Soldier.” Demo explained, taking another sip of scrumpy. 

“Oh.” Soldier replied sheepish. “I am Jane.”

‘“And what exactlys do you think yous is doing here?”’

“We are in this house because we are here to stop a curse that killed our friend.”

‘“We, huh?” the Goblin rubs his grubby little hands together. “So there’s more of you?”’

“Yes. I’m here with my friends.”

“Soldier don’t tell ‘em we’re here!” Scout said in a practically pleading tone. 

‘“Sniffles, Coughy, Flem!” He says as he picks up a wooden club. “Let’s get ‘em”’

“Everyone roll me initiative!” Miss Pauling clapped her hands together. She took a few moments to write down everyone’s rolls and roll for her Goblins behind the screen. “Scout, you’re first. What does Riword do?”

Scout stared blankly at his character sheet. “Uh, how ‘bout I take out my sword thingy and stab one of the Goblins with it?”

“Roll to hit.”

He plopped his die to the table. “God freakin dammit!”

“Yep, that there’s a crit fail.” Engie observed. 

‘Riword takes a step forward but a bug flies into his mouth. He chokes and collapses to the wet, decaying, floor.’

“Can I get up?” Scout asked. 

“Is it your turn?” Miss Pauling inquired.

“I don’t know, is it my turn still?”

“No.” She responded. “Heavy, Malac’s up next. What do you do?”

“Is Scout still choking?” Heavy asked calmly.

Miss Pauling rolled a die behind her screen. “Yes.”

“What? Really?!” Scout interjected. 

“Ok. Heavy would like to help teammate stop choking. What does Heavy roll?”

“Uh, medicine I guess.”

He rolled his die. “That is 7.”

“Please tell me that’s without your modifier man, I’m dying here!”

“Oh, right.” He glanced to his sheet. “That is 6.”

“What! How is your modifier making it lower?” Scout questioned.

“Heavy is barbarian. Heavy does not need wisdom.” 

‘Malac presses his hands on Riward’s stomach. He doesn’t appear to know what he’s doing. He presses once, and the bug flies out. He presses again, and the half-elf is gasping for air. He presses a third time, Riword has now passed out.’

“Dude, stop trying to help me!”

‘Malac stops after the third attempt.’

“That’s Heavy’s turn. Now it’s time for Leechnose’s turn, and he is targeting…” she rolled behind the screen. “Jane.”

“Yes Miss Pauling?” Soldier asked.

“Does a 15 hit your character?”

Soldier looked at his sheet confused. Demo peered over his shoulder and shook his head.

“Okay, Leechnose comes at your character and swings. He misses his first attack, and…” she rolled again. “Misses again, that was a 14. And now we’re on to Ololar. What does your character do, Sniper?”

“Same thing as last fight.” Sniper rolled a die. “I’m marking the furthest Goblin from me and shooting it with me shortbow. I rolled an 18, I assume that hits, yeah?”

She flipped some papers. “Yep. That hit. What was the damage?” 

He rolled another die “8 plus…” he rolled again. “…5, 13 total.”

“Okay, that was Coughy you hit and he isn’t dead, but is close.”

Sniper gave a thumbs up in response.

“Now it’s Morxes’ turn, Pyro.”

“Mmmph mmph!”

“Okay, Morxes’ casts firebolt. Roll to hit.”

Pryo rolled their die. 

“No freakin way, dude!” Scout exclaimed. “That’s your fourth 20 in a row!”

Pyro pointed to their sheet. 

“Twinned spell, that’s fine Pyro. Roll on the magic table if you would too.”

Pyro rolled another die, then pointed to a spot in the rule book.

Engie started to laugh. “That’s another three targets getting the 4d10 lightning damage.” 

“Un-freakin-believable.” Scout pressed his hands to his face.

Miss Pauling stared down at her notes. “Yeah, with a crit and the lightning, those Goblins are dead. Good job, uh, guys.” She rolled a die. “35 exp each.”

“How do you get so lucky at this stupid game?” Scout muttered to Pyro bitterly. He wrote his experience down. 

Pyro shrugged, rather smug.

‘As the final Goblin drops dead, from a combination of fire and lightning, the orb manifests above you guys again. It floats down to the end of the room. As it passes, it stops briefly above a pedestal before moving on. It is floating above-’

“Pedestal? What’s on the pedestal?” Scout asked.

“Everyone roll perception.” A few dice rolls later, she continued 

‘On the pedestal lies an amulet. It is very old and rusted. It is covered in blood, from the Goblin ritual. And Iorhazar,’ she nodded to the Demo who rolled highest ‘You have the feeling that this amulet is bad news.’

Demo nodded in response. “The amulet’s not important, laddies.” he said in character, “Let’s just move on to the-”

“Miss Pauling! I pick up the amulet!” Soldier interrupted. 

[kinsbin]

Title: Flower Date Ship: Jenna/Muriel [Self Insert/Canon] Word Count: 2677 Summary: Jenna invites Muriel on a daytrip through Vesuvia, where a flower shop owner helps him to realize just what his feelings mean for her and how to act upon them. He...does his best.

A/N: A commission for @aoi-hina who has been wonderful to write for!~ Their ships are so good and so are they <33

He was...nervous.

It wasn’t the kind of nervous one could will away with their emotions. A simple mantra of ‘things will be okay’ didn’t seem to connect in his head as he stood outside of the entrance to Vesuvia, lip caught underneath his teeth. Despite his hulking form and awkward outer appearance, Muriel seemed to blend in seamlessly with the background of the world around him. The conversations of others faded in and out around him, laughters echoing louder than most before exiting the peripheral of his mind. It was like a carousel of voices trying to fight each other to the top of his mind, yet, the beating of his heart was what truly overcame all of his senses. It thumped, deepy and heavy in his ears. Blood rushed in and out of his body, he could feel each vessel popping in knuckles and cracking in capillaries. They fell in unison with the sound of footsteps entering and exiting the massive city. The city was the one thing that felt so much bigger than him. A titan amongst a sea of giants feeling small compared to a creature of space and time.

Everything was always so much outside of the forest. The noises of those around him were deafening and the speed of it all was always far, far too fast for him to keep up with. Muriel wondered why everyone in the city had to move as fast as they did. Some were in a hurry, certainly, he could accept that, but for everyone to be? They never passed by the forest to enjoy its scenery. They never chose to pause and smell the flowers around them, nor enjoy the darkness of a midnight jaunt through a forest haunted by both creatures and their thoughts. Everything was predictable in the forest but in the city? Things were dangerous. Things were unsure. It filled Muriel with an anxiety he couldn’t quite describe and, thus, brooded over with quiet frustration furrowing at his brows.

This was stupid, he realized with a frustrated chuff of annoyance, he should have just turned around and returned to his home. Why was he even waiting out here again? His face reddened with a blush of idignance as something in the back of his mind murmured with a sickly sweet satisfaction: Because of her.

“Muriel!”

His name fell from a familiar voice, causing him to turn his head to see just who it was despite already well aware. His face heated up two-fold as a result, Jenna’s gaze bright as she waved at him through the oncoming crowd of people. Though her form was nowhere near as massive as his own, she somehow managed to part the crowd with indescribable ease. Perhaps it was due to her nature as a practitioner of magics. Perhaps it was because the way she dressed, all dark colors and holographic sparkles to imitate the magic she felt deep within her heart, put them off enough to simply stare.

He stared as well, of course, because how could he help it? She was dazzling. Her smile radiated familiarity and light in a world that felt otherwise overwhelmingly dark. He blinked once. Twice at her approach as she finally caught up to him. Her chest heaved with the effort it had taken to run up to him, but he felt like stone compared to the way she seemed to always be moving. Jenna bounced on the heels of her feet as she spoke to him, eyes wide under glasses as she mindlessly adjusted them. Her hair curled in with the gentle effort of movement. Despite looking moderately frazzled, Muriel couldn’t deny that she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful being he had ever seen in his life.

His gaze, of course, was one of mere surprise as she reached out to hug him, grinning with delight at his presence before pulling away.

“I’m so glad you made it! I was worried you had gotten lost or decided not to come at all...I know it was super last minute, after all, and I usually go to your place instead but-”

“It’s fine,” Muriel interrupted as fast as he could, his voice soft but firm in its address towards her as he reached out and gave her shoulder a pat to say ‘calm down’ in the most passive way possible, “I know this is important to you...I’m glad you...wanted me to go with you.”

Muriel blushed a little as she laughed with relief, her voice melodical in its delivery of the sound beyond all else.

“I’m glad you think so! I guess I just got carried away...You’ve been to the Vesuvia street fair before, though, haven’t you?”

He averted his gaze as they began to walk together, their movements matched with effort from them both. Muriel slowed his generally impressive gate to make sure she was able to catch up. In return, Jenna added a quick step to her movements to speed her own walking with moderate effort. The movements created a gentle tandem between them both, a swaying and shaking that adjusted their bodies comfortably neither here nor there. It swung simply where they took it, a freedom Muriel had rarely felt in the trapped presence of his own mind and body. With Jenna it had always been...easier...always calmer. There was a way to enhance his emotions and feelings without much thinking through them with her. He appreciated it.

“Only once...a long time ago,” He admitted as he averted his eyes from her shocked expression, “Even then I don’t...remember much of it.”

“Oh!” She sounded surprised, but, not in a negative way. There was a light hope in her voice that most would miss if they were not paying attention like he was. He had always paid that attention to her voice, no matter the words that fell from it...Why...Did he do that again? It was because he liked her voice, his mind reminded him with a hum that made him want to bury his face into his cloak and hide away out of pure unsureness. He was distracted when a hand reached out for his, clasping it shyly in its own as she moved forward and he stood still, shocked by the events that had occured. While facing him, her smile was blinding.

“In that case...Don’t worry, okay? I plan to make this the best experience you’ve ever had at a street fair to date, bar none! It’ll be an adventure!”

An adventure...with Jenna? Muriel felt far luckier than he really thought he deserved to. A smile reached his lips unbeknownst to him as he gave her the affirming nod to show he agreed.

“That...sounds good, I guess. Let’s go.”

They made their way through the crowds of Vesuvia soon after, Muriel’s form and Jenna’s energy parting the groups before them with practiced ease. Many noticed her before they noticed him, their faces going from pleasant to shocked in a matter of seconds as they realized just who was following shortly behind her. At some point, Muriel had looked down to find his hand in her own, her slender fingers gripping at his larger ones with a tenacity he had been prepared for. It caused his eyes to widen, a blush flowing against his cheeks as he observed them together quietly.

“J...Jenna.”

“Yes?”

“Your...our hands?”

Jenna looked over her shoulder while she walked, following the gaze of his eyes down to the way their hands were clenched. Both slowed their movements down as they realized the situation they had been in, her own face beginning to heat up with her own embarrassment as she watched their hands with him. Neither moved for a long time, simply taking a moment to process just what they were looking at. Her skin was soft against his rough, calloused hands. She had very little scarration on her flesh, obvious against his amalgamate of star tissue across each finger and arm. She was...cooler than he was. Her skin was ice against his body that constantly felt as though it was producing heat. Jenna let her mind wander to what it would feel like in Muriel’s embrace on a rainy day, his heat soaking into her back as he let his arms rest around her waist. As his breath bathed her neck…

Her blush thickened as she tried to find her voice again, stumbling over a few syllables as she let out a soft, awkward laugh through the murmur of the street above them both.

“I guess...Th-The street was so crowded, I didn’t want to get lost or separated! So, I figured if we held hands...I’m sorry I can take my hand off I just-”

“No it’s...fine.”

Her eyes widened, shocked at the response as Muriel averted his gaze again, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek as he worked through the courage to speak the next words out of his mouth slow and careful, as if afraid stumbling over them would be a sign of weakness. As if stumbling over them would result in him tripping through them and never being able to recover. His free hand brushed back a strand of his own hair as he huffed.

“I think it’s….a good idea, really. I was just surprised is all...I don’t want to lose you and have to find you somewhere in the crowd again, so, let’s keep going like this if that’s okay?”

The question hung in the air by a thread, the moment so quiet between them that they could hear a drop of water hit the rim of a lukewarm pan at a food stall nearly a block or two away. Footsteps substituted for their heartbeats as Muriel waited without looking back up and Jenna tried to control the level to which hers was rising up. At last she smiled, giving him a firm nod before tightening her grip on his hand to assure him that, yes, it was fine with her.

“I’m glad!”

And they moved forward again, distracted shortly by the smell of food and the beautiful stalls of goods lining each sides of the streets. The scent of freshly baked goods wafted past Muriel, making his mouth water and stomach tighten as it reminded him of the minimal foraging in the forest usually available. Berries and the meat of animals could only satiate him for so long before he got to craving the delicacies central to that of Vesuvia. Smoked eel filled his senses and the idea of swallowing it down with mead became a mouthwatering concept he had almost forgotten about.

“Oh, Muriel, look at these!”

He was pulled from his fantasy by Jenna’s voice, high and excited as she pulled him along to the side of a few stands. The one she had pulled him to was a flower stand, the elegant arrangements placed in holders that were embellished with a variety of lesser gems and sparkling paper, making them look elegant for their price as the shopkeeper peddled them peacefully at her side. Said woman looked up at them both, her smile warming at Jenna and faltering for only a second at Muriel before she put it back on, the skill of a practiced shopkeep up-kept in an effort of not scaring away a potential customer on looks alone.

“These are beautiful!” Jenna complimented as she ran her fingers over some of the paper, each touch to a piece with stones sparkling in the light of the sun. The scent of the shop was overwhelmingly sweet, each flower presenting its own unique flavor to the conglomerate that assaulted Muriel’s nose. He wrinkled it a little, allowing his body to adjust to each smell individually before taking them in all at once. Meanwhile, the shopkeep smiled at Jenna and gave a nod of agreement.

“Thank-You, my wife and I work hard on them. Each is hand jeweled and the paper is made from a mixture of ground petals and cane. The petals are from flowers that are arranged in that same bouquet. We try to match the shades accordingly, but, we are able to make customized bouquets as well when they’re ordered.” “That’s wonderful! Where is your shop? I’ll tell Nadia about it and she’ll be delighted to have some of these for her next gathering, I know it!”

“Th-The countess?”

Muriel had trailed off to admire some of the bouquets while the two talked, his fingers resting on a few of them that reminded him of Jenna. The thought was...embarrassing to say the least, but, kept to himself as he admired a set of beautiful green, blue, and pink flowers. Stargazer lilies shone with matching flamingo rhinestones. Tendrils of forget-me-nots mixed with grapevine crawled around gold and green embedded paper. He stared at it for longer than he planned to, admiring it with shock as he tilted his head to take note of the angles to which it sparkled.

“Take it.”

He looked up, confused. The shopkeep smiled.

“Your girlfriend is wonderful and kind...take it, and use it to show her what she means to you, I can tell you love her dearly.”

“Sh...She’s not my girlfriend she’s just…”

“Hm...well,” She offered him the bouquet further, “You better make her your girlfriend soon, young man, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Muriel held onto the bouquet the entire rest of the day, hiding it in the folds of his massive cloak as the night winded down and the two made their way back to his home in the woods. The sunset painted the sky pinks and blues, fading into the obscure navy of twilight while they still smelt of city and nightlife. The contrast between the scent of Vesuvia and the scent of the forest was night and day, both unique in both application and existence. Muriel could tell where he was by scent alone, the exact line of where the city faded and the forest began fresh in his mind as the two traveled back to his home.

They paused in the doorway, the lights of the house still glowing soft from when Muriel had lit them moment’s before. Jenna took a breath as she stretched her arms. Her face content, she turned to look at Muriel with a shy smile, “I really loved our day together...It’s always nice, seeing you Muriel...I...I really like spending time with you.”

Muriel paused in his response, feeling the end of the flowers in his cloak as he took a breath, the words of the woman echoing knowingly in his head as he gave a nod and averted his eyes.

“I...like it too...I like it a lot and you um...I mean...I really like you, Jenna.”

Her eyes widened, and he found the courage to continue on.

“More than just...spending time like that I….Love you, really. And your smile...your voice...the way your hand felt in mine.”

It was here he produced the bouquet, face red with embarrassment at his own actions, but, unable to turn them back as he averted his gaze, “I’d like to feel it there more often if we can...If you want to, I mean.”

It was then at the bouquet was taken from his hands, Jenna’s fingers placing themselves on either side of his face and bringing him down for a soft, intense kiss that he could not help but return with surprised ease. Her lips curled into a smile against his own, their bodies shaking with excited laughter in unison as they shared their first kiss...The one Muriel had longed for for so...so long.

“I’m yours, you silly man,” She breathed out in relief, “And I always have been.”

This time, it was him that kissed her...and against her lips, Jenna felt Muriel’s smile warm her skin and her heart as they finally came together...as they finally were one another’s.

[snowbellewells]

“Feverish”

Here’s another prompt fic putting poor Killian through the wringer. I couldn’t resist still giving it a fluffy ending though, so hopefully those of you reading won’t mind and will enjoy both parts.

Tagging: @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @branlovesouat @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @teamhook

@revanmeetra87 @killian-whump @searchingwardrobes @winterbaby89

By: @snowbellewells

“Hey Killian? Babe?... Where’d you go?” his love’s confused voice echoed through the open, high-ceilinged kitchen, entryway, and living room with a mildly puzzled note to it. She had thought he was in the kitchen with her and then turned to find him no longer there, the spatula of spaghetti sauce she’d been ready to have him taste test dribbling onto the floor and her bare feet as she tilted her head, perplexed. It wasn’t like her husband to just get up and walk away from her, especially without even saying where he was going.

Mildly concerned now as well as surprised, Emma replaced the kitchen utensil in the sauce pan, turned the heat of the stovetop to a low simmer and went in search of him. Thankfully, she hadn’t gone far when she heard the sound of the aged, creaky pipes of their upstairs bathroom working, as well as its door opening and closing and footsteps echoing from overhead. Having a good idea where to locate her pirate now, Emma made her way to the stairs, looking up at him with an impish smile and a teasing quip on her tongue about disappearing on her, but one good look at Killian as he started back down the stairs stopped the words in her throat.

The first clue was how he looked almost unsteady on his feet, listing toward the banister and holding onto it much more tightly than she’d ever seen him need to do before. Raising her eyes higher to meet his, however, set off any further alarm bells that hadn’t already been tripped. Though he gave her a weak imitation of his usually twinkling smile, his look couldn’t seem to quite focus in on her, his eyes distant and glassy.

“Killian, are you alright?” she started to question, intending to head up the stairs to meet him and feel if he were as warm and flushed as he suddenly appeared to her. She knew he would brush off her concerns and say he was fine; like her in that regard, a lifetime of taking care of himself and soldiering on had left her husband as averse to being fussed over as she was. But it was clear now that something wasn’t right. He was clearly burning up with fever. Had it come on that quickly, or had he hidden signs that he wasn’t well all day and she’d missed them?

She was studying him worriedly as he paused before her on the small landing about six steps up from where she stood. He shook his head at her worried tone, as if meant to tease and reassure her, but stopped abruptly in mid-motion, reeling unsteadily on his feet and pressing his braceless stump to his temple.

“Okay,” Emma decided, raising her foot on the first step to go to him. “I know something isn’t right with you, Buddy. Maybe you better get down her and lie on the sofa so we can take your temperature.”

Killian dutifully went to step forward, and Emma noticed the slight, trembling shivers in his hand still on the stair rail. She could definitely see sweat standing out on his forehead as well, even as his voice spoke up, slurring lethargically in a way she didn’t like at all. “No need to w-worry, Sch… Schwan,” his tongue thickly tried to pronounce before trailing off weakly.

“Yeah, yeah...I’ll worry over you if I want to,” she reminded him, stepping back to allow him passage as he stumbled at least one step closer.

But then, so suddenly it was as though she’d blinked and missed the cause, Killian crumpled. Either he’d misjudged the distance between steps and hit empty air or his knee buckled, Emma wasn’t sure, but he toppled so fast she couldn’t stop him or even engage her magic. “Killian!” she cried out, as he tumbled down the last few steps and landed in a delirious heap at her feet.

***----***

Emma had wasted no time calling her mother to bring Henry home from the high school and alert them to the situation, Regina to meet her at the hospital for assistance if the problem was magical, and then falling to her knees beside her husband’s prone form, wrapping her arms around his chest, and transporting them both to the hospital. She had him there within five minutes, and he was rushed into an exam room, while she was left with her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, trying to hold herself together and attempting to answer Whale’s questions about what had happened.

Killian was lost to it all, oblivious to the frantic hands all around him, yelling orders, inserting IVs, packing ice around him. The dangerously high temperature had completely incapacitated him, and the bustle around him no longer even existed to his subconscious.

Unfortunately, what did appear behind his closed, twitching eyelids were horrifying, fever-induced nightmare visions racing through his mind one after another: a sickening slide show that he couldn’t turn off. The pictures in his mind’s eye switched from Emma in his place in Hades’ lair, bloodied and broken and dead eyes certain no one was coming for her, to her severe Dark One self grinning wickedly as she immobilized all those she loved, then pulled first her parents’, then Henry’s, then his own heart from his chest, crushing each one to dust and sentencing herself to an eternity alone in her hate and guilt. Each vision that assaulted his defenseless mind was worse than the last, leaving his chest tightening in panic and his unconscious self struggling for air. Outside himself somewhere, the machines they had hooked him up to went crazy.

***----***

When Killian finally blinked back into wakefulness much later that night, the uncomfortable heat of the fever had left him and he felt much more himself. The world was no longer swimming in fuzzy circles around him as it had when he’d started down the stairs in their home to answer his wife’s worried call. Though his vision was still a bit blurry at first, the angel who leaned over him anxiously upon realizing he was awake, came rapidly into focus. His Emma’s brow was crinkled with worry and her golden hair fell over him as she came closer, the ends brushing against his chest.

Her hand felt refreshingly cool and soft as it traced across his forehead, down his cheek, and came to rest over his heart, fingers brushing deliciously at his exposed collarbone. “Hey there, Handsome,” she whispered with a tired smile, though her voice was ragged and he could clearly tell how worried she had been. “You’re back.”

Not quite certain of his own voice yet, he nodded to her in response, offering a tentative smile of his own.

Emma bit her lip, clearly not wishing to let all the emotion and worry she’d felt free. “Good,” she finally managed, lifting her feet to curl up beside him in the hospital bed, gently bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. “But don’t you ever let a fever like that go for so long again.”

[starfaring-princelotor]

Sweet Tooth

Summary: A simple bite wound changes Prince Lotor and his strange urges pull out a rather...interesting side of him.

Pairings: Lotor x Reader 

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing.  ★

Part One___Part Two___Part Three

Prince Lotor was a man of many things. He was intelligent, cunning, cautious; all traits well-suited for an heir to the Galra throne. Being raised under Zarkon and his iron rule on the empire taught the young prince several skills that shaped him into the commander he was today. Lotor was ruthless where it counts, he knew how to play his cards, and had no qualms with taking a life in a battle. He had class, he could control himself as well as his generals, though right now? Right now, maybe there was an...urge.

On his throne, his leg was shaking up and down in slight impatience. All his generals took notice of his odd composure, but it was Acxa who decided to approach him. “With caution,” she reminded herself. If anything, perhaps the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins from their last mission? Or the pressure of Voltron encroaching onto Galra territory was beginning to weigh in on him? It could be a number of things she had no insight about, though that didn’t stop her from continuing her job as being HIS general.

Once she was a few feet away, her sharp eyes noted how his damaged armor was missing here and there. She also noticed...a sizable bite mark on the inside of his arm. It looked infected, though Acxa couldn’t remember seeing any animal attack him on their recent mission. Yes, there were swords clashing and guns a blazing, but not a beast in sight. She cleared her throat, pulling Prince Lotor out of his thoughts as his piercing eyes honed in on her slender face.

“Sir,” she began with the utmost respect laced in her voice, “All prisoners have been boarded and we are ready for take off. We had few casualties in the battle and they are being treated in the medbay.”

Maybe her voice emphasized “medbay” a little more sternly to try and pressure him to get his arm looked at.

“Thank you, Acxa. Chart a course to Diad’ix galaxy. We will be visiting a little planet called Cyleus,” he ordered with a slightly strained tone due to his teeth grinding together, “That will be all.”

In all honesty, he needed rest. This new...disease coursing through him was troublesome and he would not risk his health when his plans were JUST starting to fall into place. There was a doctor there, a good doctor he knew very well, who could help him with his predicament. What problem was it? He certainly couldn’t outright tell his generals when this was clearly something he could handle on his own. Simply put, he had a craving. An urge for his next fix. An addiction.

A...lusting for something sweet. For candy, for milkshakes, for sugar, for something to satisfy his sweet tooth.

The man was actually sweating in restraint! He pushed his hair behind his ears, trying to recall where this strange sickness came from. The mission started out well enough. His plan was to rescue you and your crew, one of the unlucky coalition soldiers who got captured by his ruthless Galra commanders. Mind you, got captured by one of his Galra commanders who did not see Lotor as a prince nor heir to the Emperor Zarkon. Due to this and his status, Prince Lotor had to stage the rescue as if he was part of this father’s enemy attempting to free captured war refugees.

It worked, but there was a problem. To you, all you knew was that another Galra was going to take you captive. Sell you on the black market? Enslave you until death? Eat you? You didn’t know, so of course, you fought. You fought tooth and nail, not once believing that your savior had pure intentions with you and the other captives. In the midst of it all, between fighting you and the sentries trying to foil Lotor’s plans, he had managed to grab you in a strong chokehold.

“Stop, I am not your enemy!” he remembers yelling, trying to reason with a stubborn person like yourself, “Cease your struggling lest I-”

And then you bit him. Bit him like an enraged animal ready to tear through life and death just to survive. You didn’t relent when he let out a pained grunt, nor when he started yanking your hair to pry your teeth off of him. From an outside point of view, perhaps this would’ve been comical to see. The great Prince Lotor struggling to subdue a defenseless prisoner in his convoluted rescue mission. The pain was intense and he knew you could taste his blood flooding your mouth by now. It seemed as though you were ready to chew through his entire arm!

Prince Lotor couldn’t have that. So, in a reckless decision, he brought the hilt of his sword down harshly on the back of your head and successfully knocked you out. He would salute you on your resilient hold and how you had actually managed to WOUND him. Barbaric, true, but it worked. His generals and crew gathered all the prisoners they could and brought them upon his ship. Lotor personally dragged, er, carried your unconscious body into your own metal cell. He half debated about ordering one of his generals to put a damn muzzle on you like the dog you were.

Lotor’s eyes snapped open after his thoughts ended. Did you perhaps have venom or was your saliva deadly to his kind? That could explain everything. It wasn’t like he didn’t get his current vaccinations up to date...but there was no vaccine that could make him immune to everything. Fuck, he wanted honey. He wanted to gorge himself on the syrupy concoction, dunk his entire face in a pot of the gooey gold. The thought alone had his mouth salivating and he had to cover his lips so no one saw him drool. Prince Lotor suddenly stood up from his seat when his unruly mind began breaking his inner will.

With hastened footsteps, Lotor reached the doors to your cell and commanded the guards to let him through. He folded his hands behind himself, both to show his authority and to hide his still tenderly, wounded arm. Lotor couldn’t show you how much your bite afflicted him. As he stepped through with his head held high and menacing boots announcing his arrival, the first thing he heard was...munching. So, you were awake. Good. Now he could finally interrogate you and demand to know what venom you injected-

Oh...his nose twitched. He could smell it from here. It was sugar. Very potent sugar. His keen sense of sweet smelling delicacies was heightened and he couldn’t help but lick his lips in want. Control was waning and he must! Resist! Temptation!

You stopped eating your last meal and stared up at the mighty Prince Lotor. Stiff, stock still, but eyes quite focused on your huddled form. No, not you entirely...he was eyeing the chocolate smudged all over your mouth. It was right there, on the corner of your mouth, and he could just-he wanted to just lick it off you, maybe even nibble your lower lip to imitate the texture of a firm chocolate bar. Lotor swallowed thickly and he suddenly realized it was slowly getting harder to control his breathing. With every breath, he could taste the sweetness in the air coat his tongue, tease him, beckon him to give in, to satisfy his crazed hunger.

And you, you weren’t moving. You were prey, just waiting there, oblivious to whether or not you knew of the little problem you oh-so-generously bestowed upon him. You warily watched him kneel before you, the sudden action making you jolt back a bit in fear. He was unpredictable, it showed in his dangerous eyes. Lotor leaned closer to you, just shy a few inches from your lips, and you feared making any noise in front of him. Was he testing you? Scrutinizing your every miniscule expression? Is this an interrogation trick?

“What have you done to me…” his voice was thick, heavy with unbridled hunger as if he was dying of thirst.

Something changed then. Prince Lotor sounded...weak. Strained. He was holding back and part of you worried he was going to snap any second now. A plan formulated in your head. Now was the time to escape! He was injured and if you were quick enough, you could hit him across his temple and make a rush for the exit. You could take out the guards quick enough if they were distracted and...and what was that sliding down your arm?

“W-what are you…?” your question trailed off when Lotor pinned you with a heated stare.

The Prince trailed his hand down to your wrist, gripping it firmly with his fingers, then brought it up between the both of you. Halfway unwrapped in crinkled foil and paper was the delectable bane of his existence: chocolate. He didn’t know Hershey’s, but the smell...it made him shudder in want. He couldn’t hold back any second longer and, in the privacy of the cell, he finally indulged his hidden, shameful desire. Lotor began gorging himself out of the palm of your hand, panting heavily and with no coordination of his princely title whatsoever.

All you could do was stare in shock at the wild look behind his eyes. The way he scarfed down the delicacy as if he had found the forbidden fruit of the Gods was both arousing and frightening. Frightening because THIS was the Galra heir to the throne, the same throne that subjugated their prisoners to the worst possible torture imaginable. He was eating so fast and you did see those threatening fangs of his bite a little too close to your thumb. Half of you worried he would eat your hand while he was at it.

And yet, the way he was licking your fingers made you flustered. His warm, slick tongue wrapping eagerly around your index finger and those wet, sucking noise were absolutely filthy in the silence of the cell. Was he aware of how erotic his raw hunger looked right now? Did he know that the more he lapped messily at the melted goo between the crevices of your fingers only made you shiver in odd delight?

“Oh…” he moaned lowly, almost growling, before finally breaking away after indulging himself for a few seconds longer than what was considered proper, “That was...divine…”

Was his urge sated? Absolutely not, if his half-lidded, smoldering gaze was anything to go by. Prince Lotor was still lost in his desire for the sweet, foreign taste of chocolate and his next fix was currently on your lips. Without sparing a second thought, he cupped your face with his hands and kissed you in feverish need. He still had that accursed craving coursing through his veins and his mind was clouded to the brim with this delicious kiss. Lotor paid no attention to his overheating body at all, nor did he reign in control over how improper it was to, ah, indulge his prisoners.

You had no time to even process how a prince from your enemy was currently giving you the best kiss of your life. The heart in your chest was beating so fast, you wouldn’t be surprised if he heard it with those elegant ears of his. The way he moved his lips sensually over yours had your mind in a tizzy. Was this how he broke his prisoners? With the art of seduction? It was...definitely a possibility now that you got to experience it first hand. Lotor’s body was so firm against yours and his palms felt like a warm, toasty fire in the chill of deep space. It was difficult to pull away, even as his tongue lapped lazily at the corner of your lips.

“Give me more…” Prince Lotor tugged at your lip with his fangs, drinking in the pleasurable groan that escaped your throat, “I demand it…ah...”

He was panting like a dog now, pressing his towering form more insistently against you in hopes that somehow, you could grant him his desperate demands. Before you could answer, his mouth was upon yours once again, those dark eyes of his clenched close in strain while his tongue slipped through your lips. Lotor could taste it, taste the lingering sugar coating your wet muscle, and he found it absolutely intoxicating. He felt drunk off of you.

Prince Lotor wanted, needed more, but it was too late before he realized his body could not handle it. The addicting sugar, the fever that came with this foreign infection, it weakened him to the point where he had to break the kiss. You were finally able to catch your breath in the haze of lust, yet Lotor seemed exhausted. Sickly, even. Now, his skin was clammy and before you could get a questioning word out, the mighty Prince Lotor let out a pained grunt, swayed slightly...and suddenly passed out.

“L-Lotor?!” you were crushed under him, trapped under his body that felt like was exerting more heat than usual, “Prince Lotor?!”

Did you...just kill the coalition’s enemy with a sugar rush?

[assbuttyourlife]

When We Were Young - Chapter Twenty-Nine

Pairing : Misha/OFC

Warnings : Language, Fire, trauma, PTSD, family members death (including child), therapy, flashbacks (not in every chapter), injuries, cheating. Sexual content. Violence. Non Con/Threats of rape. Long fic. Angst, fluff, Smut. Mention of suicide.

Words : 7495

Summary : After her grandmother’s funeral, Lily must return to the place she lived in when she was young and has to confront the ghosts of her past. She will run into an old friend that she thought was lost forever.

WWWY Masterlist

AO3 link

Tags : @jhudawnareeves

Drop an ask if you wanna be tagged :)

CHAPTER 29 - ANSWERS

Lily slowly turned to look at Misha after what felt like hours of silence to him. She stepped closer to him and took his face between her hands.

“Tell me how could I possibly live without you?” she smiled and her eyes sparkled when she met his loving cobalt gaze.

The relief in Misha's body was so obvious that she felt all of his muscles relaxing at once when he exhaled shakily, closing his eyes to lean in her touch.

She took her hands away from his face to wrap her arms around his waist and moved up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips.

Their lips parted immediately at the contact. The kiss was slow, long and passionate. Misha grabbed her face with both hands and gripped tight like he was afraid she would disappear again.

But she stayed, and she let him kiss her again and again without ever stopping him. She realized he was more important than anything else in her life, and she knew deep inside he had nothing to do with what happened in 1990, and that her mother was right to trust him and his family. She had to do the same and be loyal.

She didn't know how long it lasted, but probably several minutes until Misha pulled away, took one of her hands and led her at the foot of her bed where he sat down on the wooden floor, waiting for her to do the same. Naturally, she immediately realized it was the exact same spot they passed out and almost died more than two decades ago.

“What are you doing?” she frowned,confused.

“I'm saying fuck to fate.” he smiled at her, leaned against the white metal bed frame and extended his arm to take her hand. “Care to join me?”

She had no choice but to follow him when he pulled down on her arm, and she finally sat next to him, facing the window. Misha took her in his arms and sighed deeply when she leaned on his shoulder.

They stayed quiet for a while, both thinking about the last time they were here together and how meaningful it was to be here today.

“If Mom could see us now...” Lily whispered. “Or Nana...”

Her silent tears were staining Misha's shirt but he didn't care.

“They would be happy for us, no doubt.” he replied confidently.

Lily suddenly looked back at her bed. “Where did you find that patchworked blanket? Nana made it for me when I was just a baby but it did burn on my back.”

“Well... I found a picture with it and Mom helped me finding the fabric and sewing it all together. It's probably not exactly the same if you look closely but I have to say I'm kinda proud of myself, it wasn't easy.” he chuckled.

Was there a luckier woman in this world, really? Who does that for someone?

“What picture?”

“The one from our time capsule that we took in the barn, and another one that I found in your grandma's house when you were a baby.”

She pulled away to look at him. Was he talking about the after-sex picture they put in the capsule??? “You showed that picture to your Mom?”

Misha laughed “Yes how was I supposed to do otherwise?”

“Oh God, Misha we're naked on that picture!” her face turned red so she hid in his chest. She wouldn't be able to look at Rebecca straight in the eyes after that!

“Like she cares. It's my mom we're talking about.” he rolled his eyes.

Lily imitated him, making him laugh again. He wasn't wrong... Rebecca would definitely not care about that.

“I'm sorry I doubted you, Misha.” she finally said silencing him and finding her place back on his shoulder. “I don't know what happened to me... I was so confused.”

“I know. I understand.” he left a quick peck on the top of her head.

“So... there is nothing more I have to know, right? You're not restoring my Grandmother's house, are you?” she chuckled and he joined her.

“No. No more secrets, promise. Although buying your Gran's place wouldn't be a bad idea but I'll take care of this one first.” he joked.

When Lily tried to pull away to stand up, Misha gripped her arm, blocking her.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“I need to stand up a little because as hard as I wish it, I'm not sixteen anymore and the hard cold wooden floor makes my ass sore... or maybe it hurts because you impudently slapped me earlier.”

“Right...” Misha stood up bringing her with him. “I might have a cure for that...”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her again with the same passion, slowly walking forward, pushing her towards the bed in the process. Lily giggled when her knees hit the frame and she fell on it, which Misha took as an invitation to lie on top of her and keep on kissing her.

“We can't leave this room without having sex at least one last time on that blanket... it's a tradition. I wouldn't risk a curse, would you?” Misha declared devouring her with his piercing eyes.

She smiled and traced her fingers up along his back, slowly sliding his shirt up.

“I agree, we've been cursed enough...” she whispered.

Misha quickly took his shirt off and tossed it on the floor before kissing her again. She was wearing a flower printed fluid dress... how convenient! He had missed her the whole week but she kept pushing him away being mad at him... he definitely had no more time to waste.

He slid his hands under her dress to push it up on her stomach and plunged one hand under her panties without even stopping his task of kissing her. She moaned in his mouth when she felt his fingers firmly caressing her clit, and arched her back when he went further down to push his middle finger inside of her, still rubbing on her clit with his thumb.

“God!” she whined writhing next to him, already panting from anticipation.

Misha was looking at her with dark eyes, admiring her reactions every time he was changing the angle or added more fingers.

“Oh God, Misha!” she almost screamed in a higher pitched voice.

But Misha stopped anyway, and she grunted from frustration. He grabbed her legs and folded them, spread wide on the bed before kneeling down on the floor, and she grunted again. Obviously she was as desperate and eager as he was, which made him smile with content.

Misha inserted two fingers back inside of her and the sound she made when she felt his tongue on her clit was insane. He licked, pushed and circled it until she became a moaning mess and came screaming his name a few seconds later, clinging on the patchwork blanket for dear life.

“Holy fuck, Misha... take your fucking pants off and fuck me now!” She ordered still panting.

Misha smirked and laughed looking at her lying on her bed, her legs still wide open.

“How can I resist such a delicate demand?” he purred while unzipping his pants. “Take your dress off.”

The dominance in his voice almost made her come a second time without him even touching her. She immediately obeyed and they soon were both naked, contemplating each other.

Misha slowly leaned on top of her without touching her, dominating her with his whole body. “You're fucking stunning, do you know that?” he purred in her ear before leaning further down and bite on her lower lip, then licking down to her neck, and she couldn't help but ground her hips in a vain attempt to reach his crotch since he was too far away from her.

“Please...” She wanted him so bad!

He left a quick peck on her lips. “please what?”

She whined. Really? He wanted to play that game now? After that horrible week? She had no time to play...

“please fuck me now!”

Misha clicked his tongue “Oh the bad words...” he whispered still contemplating her without moving further. If a look could burn hotter that his, she would be dead under his intense gaze right now.

She didn't know what evil little game he was playing, and he was certainly hot as hell talking to her like that with such a lustful voice, but she could've died on this bed if she didn't feel his cock inside of her very soon!

She couldn't hold on much longer, her hand flew between her legs and she touched herself closing her eyes from relief.

“Oh no no.” Misha grabbed her wrists and pined them above her head, making her whimper so loud she probably scared all the animals in the woods around them.

“No touching. You're very disobedient today, Lily...”

“Misha please, I swear to God...” she panted.

The evil smirk on Misha's face right now wasn't announcing anything good for her...

but he leaned his head down just a little more, still holding her arms up above her head, pushed his tongue inside her mouth exploring hers again and again, when Lily felt his whole (very warm!) body moving down closer, pressing against hers, and she finally felt his hard cock against her clit, making her tremble and whimper in his mouth.

He rubbed it against her over and over again, torturously slow, making her moan and writhe under his weight, needing more than that. She was literally craving him now and she couldn't hide it.

Misha grunted which made him stop kissing her and he pressed his sweaty forehead against hers, shutting his eyes tight and biting his own lip.

“God, Lily... you're driving me insane.” he could've come just like that. Truth was he was just as eager as she was, just hiding it better.

She was driving him insane?? Who was torturing the other one right now?

“Please, dammit Misha!”

He finally let go of her arms which allowed her to wrap them around his waist to rub his muscular back, and without even warning her, he fully entered her with a groan. Lily arched her back and ground her hips allowing him to go deeper. It already felt like heaven.

They stayed a few seconds like that, just looking at each other's eyes.

“I love you.” Misha whispered and leaned further down to kiss her. She wanted to say it back, but he was so determined to prove it to her than he didn't even leave her lips to allow her to say it, kissing her again and again.

Their lips parted when he moaned after he finally started to move in her, still torturously slow at first, but soon speeding his pace up, obviously unable to hide how bad he wanted her anymore.

They held onto each other, Lily gripping Misha's strong and sweaty shoulder with one hand and grabbing his hair with the other, Misha holding on her hips. They kept their frantic pace until Misha's grunts became higher and Lily was panting with her eyes rolled back. She came first, still holding on his shoulders tight, her orgasm so strong that she couldn't even make a sound, her mouth wide open.

Triggered by her intense orgasm, Misha followed soon after her, coming inside of her, groaning and grunting again and again.

They both fell panting and exhausted on the bed, Misha covering Lily's body and snuggling on top of her as usual, resting his head on her sweaty chest.

She lazily brushed her fingers in his soft hair.

“I'm so sorry, Misha...” she suddenly whispered remembering the previous week.

He looked up at her, his chin still on her chest.

“I know, Lily. Your reaction was normal. I just didn't expect you to find out that way... or to fly here.”

She looked down with a sparkle in her eyes, sinking into his blue gaze.

“What if we both go talk to Mr Adams?”

Oh how she would pay to see the old man's reaction when he would see Misha.

“No thanks. I want to live.” he chuckled.

“Don't you want revenge after all that he said about you and your mom? After everything he did to you?” she asked, drawing circles on Misha's back with her finger.

“I already had my revenge, I have a great life and now I have you back. I don't care about anything else.” He lazily traced his fingers up along her chest until he reached her jaw line.

“He was bad with me even when I was a teen, I'm used to it and I don't care anymore. If he wants to stew in his own resentment it's his problem.”

She stopped her fingers from their art work on his back and frowned.

“Are you telling me he killed mom and Ryan and he won't pay for it?”

“That man is not happy, Lily... he's already paying. He must be chocking under the weight of his guilt, he will die alone and angry. Isn't that the worst punishment? If you want to involve the cops I will support you, but don't forget his brother is the chief officer...”

“Well I hope mom will kick his ass when he dies... except he will probably go to hell while she's in heaven.”

Heaven...

“SHIT!”

Misha suddenly sat on the bed searching for his phone “I forgot I have to call Bob. I'll be right back.” he quickly put his pants on and rushed out.

She giggled thinking he remembered to call his boss just because she talked about hell and heaven and got up too, finding her way to the bathroom to clean up.

She then went down to the kitchen and looked inside the fridge but of course it was empty. She opened the french door leading to the backyard... the fountain was restored and functioning, the lawn was mowed, everything was just perfect. She walked on the fresh lawn toward the well and admired the view. She could only hear the birds chirping and the wind through the trees. She forgot how beautiful and peaceful this place was.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Misha appeared behind her, barefoot and still topless... another nice view.

She huffed a laugh. “I was just thinking how much I love this place and how lucky I am to have such an obstinate boyfriend. You really did an amazing job.”

She walked toward him and circled his bare chest with her arms. He pushed her hair back and kissed her forehead.

“I wasn't alone... and I really hate being your boyfriend.”

She gasped almost choking on her own breath.

“What??” she pulled away from him but he quickly grabbed her wrists.

“I'd rather be your husband.” he declared, looking directly in her shocked green eyes.

Oh.

“You could've said it another way, I almost had a heart attack!” she chuckled nervously.

“Sorry. You know what I'd love to do? I'd love to marry you here.”

She leaned back against the well smiling and crossed her arms. Misha... the eternal romantic. There was a slight problem though...

“Do I have to remind you you're already married?”

“No, I'm not.”

She paled and she could've sworn her heart missed a few beats.

“Last time I checked you were!”

“Not anymore. Divorce was pronounced a week ago.”

“What the... and you didn't think it was an information I'd like to know sooner?” she weakly slapped his arm.

“I did... but you were too busy being mad at me and you almost dumped me so... I had more urgent things to deal with first.”

What a brat! He wasn't wrong, but still! Her mouth was wide open and she didn't know what to say. Misha chuckled.

“You know if you don't close your mouth you're gonna swallow some flies.”

“Misha!”

“What?”

“How... when... how...” as surprising as it was, Misha understood what she meant by that.

“Vicki and I agreed on everything so it was fast, no big deal.” he shrugged.

She couldn't help it... she started to cry. Actually she cried and laughed at the same time. She didn't even know why, probably a mix of all the emotions she felt during that week, and now this... she didn't even know he started the procedure for a divorce. He never told her.

He stepped close to her and hugged her tight while she hid her face in her hands and leaned against his chest.

“I really hope those are tears of joy.” he rocked back and forth to sooth her, still hating to see her cry.

“You said no more secrets!” she mumbled in her hands.

“It's no secret, it was just a formality between Vicki and me. You were not involved so why would I tell you before it's done?”

It made all of this so real... she actually was about to marry Misha twenty five years after he proposed. She was about to officially be the wife of the man she had loved since she was a kid, and it was so overwhelming to finally have what she wished for, so long after all they've been through, that she had the feeling it was too good to be true.

“I can't believe this is happening.” She finally removed her hands from her face to look at him and smile.

Misha looked calm, confident and happy. Lily wanted to feel guilty at that moment, it was the proper thing to feel after she broke a family apart. But she didn't. She didn't feel an ounce of guilt for the first time since forever. She even felt like she was at the exact place she belonged to.

“I have to admit I had a hard time realizing it was real too, but if you're still okay with it, we're definitely getting married, hopefully here, and the sooner the better. I guess we've waited long enough.”

“Umm I don't know Misha, it's a huge step... I don't know if I'm actually ready for that.” she looked down avoiding his worried gaze.

Time stopped and Misha stared at her frowning. “You're kidding.”

She smirked looking up “Yeah, I'm kidding.” she laughed. “That's for the 'I hate being your boyfriend'!”

He scoffed playfully. “Fair enough.”

“I have one condition though.”

“Oh man, do I have to be scared? What is it?” he crossed his arms looking at her quizzically.

“I don't want my name to be Collins.”

He laughed so hard his head flew back. “Don't tell me you wanna be a Krushnic! Everybody will think you married Sasha!”

“Well first , there is already a very known Lily Collins, and I just can't... I mean... you'll always be Misha Krushnic for me, Collins doesn't fit for me, I'm sorry I just can't help it.”

He sighed. “Whatever. I want you to be my wife, your last name is just a detail.”

She tenderly smiled at him. “Good. Shall we leave now? I mean... unless you wanna be jobless?”

They both laughed, leaving Hagen's farm happier than ever. Next time they would come here, it would be with their families and friends to get married.

*****

Lily flew back to Vancouver with Misha to stay a couple of days with him and tell a few of his close friends they would get married soon. Of course Jensen and Jared were thrilled to learn about it and they took this opportunity to go out with the couple to a nice restaurant to celebrate almost the whole night. No need to say the next day of filming was painful for the three men.

She then told Misha she wanted to talk to his mom and since he couldn't leave Vancouver with her, she went back in Bellingham alone since Rebecca was staying with Vicki and the kids for the week. That was actually great, she would talk to West at the same time, and she was kinda glad to see Vicki too after everything that happened. She needed to know everything was still okay with her.

She was welcomed in Misha's old house by a very excited Maison jumping in her arms. That's when Lily was surprised to realize how much she actually missed the kids. West followed right behind, hugging her tight... that was reassuring.

Vicki greeted her and led her to the living room where Rebecca was drinking her tea with someone she didn't know.

“Lily! I'm so happy you're here!” the old woman hugged her tight. “We were worried you know...”

“I know umm... sorry about that. I needed to be on my own to clear my mind. It's been a damn long week.”

The other woman extended her hand to her.

“Hi Lily, I'm Rachel. Nice to finally meet you.”

Oh... the other woman... who slept with Misha too.

Come on, Lily get your shit together this is not the time! She mentally slapped herself.

“Hi. Nice to meet you too.”

They all sat around the table to drink tea and chat a little and when Lily finally asked Rebecca about Mr Adams and her past, Vicki left with Rachel and the kids to give them some privacy.

Of course, Misha had already called his mother to tell her about their little trip to Northfield, so she was calm and ready to answer every question Lily could have.

They talked about Mr Adams (or Ray as Rebecca calls him...). She explained that she hadn't read the letters despite Misha's insistence, because she knew the old man pretty well and she could imagine well enough what he wrote about her and her sons.

“I didn't know what was true and what was lies anymore.” Lily shamefully admitted. “I mean... it's like I've been living in a bubble my whole childhood and Mr Adams burst it with those letters and... well I was very confused.”

Rebecca took one of Lily's hand in hers. “I'm pretty convinced he wrote a few lies to your mother to help his cause, but he was just blinded by his love for her and his hate for us. I can't blame him for everything, I did some things that put him in delicate situations more than once, but he had no right to toy with our lives like he did. It wasn't justified.”

“What did you do?” Lily dared asking.

She chuckled “Nothing that I regret, sweetie. I had two boys to take care about and I had nothing to lose. I did what every mother would do.”

Lily knew she had minor problems with the cops in her hometown, and she knew she was using illegal substances on a regular basis, but she never knew any more than that.

“He said he helped you when you were arrested.”

“Yeah. Few times actually, and I'm very grateful for that even if it wasn't from the goodness of his heart. Everything he did was to get closer to your mother.”

They both laughed.

“Lily... I've used drugs, I've put myself in dangerous situations to protect my kids, I've been mocked, arrested, feared and hated by a lot of people, and I don't regret any of that because it made me who I am. It made Misha and Sasha who they are too. The only thing that I will forever regret is being so helpless the night your family died, and not repaying your mother for her precious help, loyalty and the monumental amount of love she brought in our lives.”

Lily looked at her with a sad smile and frowned. She indeed never explained where she was that night and what she did.

Was she with her mom when she died? She only knew she was outside when Misha looked out the window and she told him she had called 911 but that was it.

She told her every thing she wanted to know.

Her mom called Rebecca for help so she indeed called 911 while she was busy trying to save Mary and Ryan. She had no idea the fire had spread that far and of course she had no idea Misha was still in the room with Lily.

When she heard Ryan calling for help she tried to get inside to help and that's when she saw Mary trapped in the collapsing stairs. Naturally she wanted to help, and it was at that moment that Sasha came in the house because he was terrified to stay alone outside.

“He was so scared that he wouldn't leave my side, and when I saw him almost catching on fire to get to me, I turned around and got out with him, telling him to wait outside again. He was in shock, we could hear Ryan calling, your mom screaming, and we knew you were trapped in the tower with Misha.”

The screams of her little brother resonated in Lily's head so vividly that she had to close her eyes and breathe deeply.

“Then Ryan screams stopped... and your mother's too. All we could hear was the house cracking and collapsing all around us. I had to get back inside though, but Sasha was clinging to me. I couldn't leave Misha in there, I couldn't let your mother die on those stairs, I couldn't let Ryan or you either, but I knew I couldn't get to everyone, I had to chose who to help first. Your mom was the closest so I wanted to go to her even if I knew it was probably too late. That's when the firemen arrived, and they wouldn't let me in.”

Her voice was weak and shaky, and tears were rolling down her face, landing on the wooden table.

“I asked them to check on you and Misha first, and that's what they did, bringing you out first, you were already on a stretcher covered from head to toe, I thought you were dead... then they brought Misha out, and when I saw my son unconscious I thought he was dead too and I forgot everything else. I ran to him, Sasha followed me, they let me in the ambulance and we ended up in the hospital.”

She took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose.

“I called the clinic where I knew you were transferred and asked the doctor about you and your family, and I have to say I wasn't surprised when they told me no one made it. Misha insisted to go back when he woke up and I told him what had happened, he was persuaded I was wrong... and now we know he was right, but when the doctors, the paramedics, the police and the entire town tell you the whole Hagen family is dead, you just believe it. We had only one option left: find your grandmother.”

“She was with me in the clinic... she didn't move.” Lily tried to suppress the accusatory tone in her voice but failed miserably.

“I know. That's the first place we checked naturally. Misha burst in the burn unit yelling at the poor nurse who had no idea what was happening.” she chuckled bitterly. “I thought his reaction was normal, that he was in total denial, so I let him confront the doctors so he would understand it was useless, you were gone and he had to face it. I know now I was totally wrong and he just probably could feel inside of him you were still alive.”

Just like Lily had felt it wasn't possible Misha was gone...

“Everybody told us your grandma was in Europe, but no one would tell us exactly where, or if she would be back for the funeral. They probably didn't know.”

“The funeral?” Lily tilted her head. She never thought about the funerals! She was still very much in pain when her family was buried so she went to church and stayed a very short time in the cemetery before going back to the hospital.

“The deputy told us the funeral was already over when we checked. We went to the cemetery of course. It was true, there were tons of flowers and we saw that the grave of your father had been opened. They just didn't change what was written on it. “Hagen Family”. That was it. So we said goodbye, we went back to get our stuff in the cottage and we left for Boston.”

“That was it?”

Rebecca chuckled “Oh dear, do you think Misha would give up on you so easily? We went back a few weeks after that. The cemetery hadn't changed, your grandmother's house was empty, everybody told us she moved to Europe and didn't want to come back. We were a little surprised she didn't leave an address or a phone number for us, but after a while, I thought maybe she was mad at me, I knew Ray would tell everyone we were responsible for what happened, so I gave up, not knowing where to start looking anyway. Misha still searched for months after that, but it was a dead end, he couldn't succeed... Europe is big. We moved to Washington, I thought it would be easier to start something new far away from Northfield, and then he met Vicki and everything changed.”

Lily side-eyed to look at Misha's wife playing with her kids in the backyard.

Ex-wife...she weakly smiled. Did Rebecca know about that already?

“I thought everything was fine, that he had moved on, and I was glad. But he hadn't. He would keep going back to Northfield every year until he graduated from college. Then he stopped and he traveled a lot with Vicki, and only twelve years later he married her.” Rebecca laughed looking down at her empty cup of tea. She then looked at Vicki and her grand children laughing together.

“And only twenty-five years later Misha will finally marry the woman he fell in love with when he was nine years old.” she declared smiling at Lily.

Okay... so she knew.

Lily laughed. “We didn't fell in love when we were nine. I tried to poison him first.”

Misha's mother chuckled “Oh believe me, he did. A mother can tell when her son is in love, and Misha was already fascinated when he came back home the day he met you. I knew you would not be just another friend. So... tell me... when will I finally have the pleasure to officially welcome you in the family?”

Lily chuckled nervously. “I don't know, we haven't decided yet, but soon. I guess we've waited long enough. I just needed to talk to you first, and to Vicki.”

“Why Vicki?”

“I just... I wanna make sure everything is fine for her and the kids. I can't take Misha away from his family if anything is wrong.”

Rebecca practically burst out laughing. “Oh God Lily you're unbelievable. Look at her, does she look bothered?”

Lily studied the woman, admitting she looked fine, but still, she was married to Misha for so many years, she had to hear it from her.

And she did. After spending the rest of the afternoon with them, playing with the kids, having an explanation with West who was obviously fine with her after all, they had dinner and Vicki offered to go for a walk with Lily so they could talk.

It was awkward at first, at least for Lily (Vicki was too awesome to care about that), but after a while, after hearing that she was totally okay with Misha marrying her, Lily felt the heavy weight on her shoulders dissipating.

She felt good, like finally everything she was scared about was gone.

There was one last thing she needed to do though... one last person to confront.

Dr Dorville, the psychiatrist who took care of her when she arrived in France, broken and scared.

She really helped her and Lily would be eternally grateful for that, but there was one doubt remaining in her mind, one that she couldn't get rid of even if she tried her hardest… Maybe she knew all of her story from the beginning. What if she knew Misha and his family were still alive all along?

What if all that time she opened up to a woman about a grief that wasn't justified? What if she lied to her?

A doctor lying to her patient… Was it even possible? Ten years ago Lily would've said no, but today, after all she went through, after all the people lying to her, even the ones she trusted the most, even her own family, she wasn't sure about anything anymore, and it was now totally a valid option in her mind.

She could've done it over the phone, but she needed to see her. She needed to see her face when she would bring Misha right in front of her.

But yeah… For that she also needed Misha to be free long enough to fly with her to France, and it wasn't an easy task.

She didn't need a lot to convince him though, he was absolutely thrilled to go with her and curious to see where she lived for more than ten years. And after a couple of months, they managed to find a date when the trip was possible, which brought them in Nice at the end of May.

It was perfect. She loved spring the most: it wasn't too cold nor too hot, the tourists weren't that many yet, so it was peaceful and beautiful. Just was she needed right now.

They would go to Dr Dorville first. Lily called to make an appointment as soon as they would land. Then they would have a little time to visit the coast and they would have to go back because Misha had to be back for the end of the season.

That's how they ended in Dr Dorville's waiting room, ready to confront her with the truth.

If she knew, it would be devastating for Lily. She put all her trust in this woman, she shared all her feelings, her deepest thoughts, her fears… If It was a big lie, if she used her to hide Mr Adams’ sins, something in Lily would definitely be broken. Again.

The blond woman opened her door right on time. She hadn't changed. She was still elegant, graceful, calm and welcoming. When she saw Lily, her smile grew wider and her eyes sparkled a little.

“Lily, I'm very glad to see you after so long! Please come in.” she extended her hand to her and to Misha who shook it willingly.

The Doctor looked very calm, nothing on her face or in her behavior could betray any sort of stress when she saw Misha.

They entered her office and both sat on the chairs in front of Dr Dorville's desk, waiting for her to start the conversation.

“So. What brings you here? I thought you were back in America for good.”

Lily took a quick look at Misha, probably to gain a bit of courage. He looked perfectly relaxed... she was almost jealous. She felt nervous. Everything was so easy those past months, she was scared of what she could hear, scared she would learn something that could compromise her future and ruin everything.

“I am. I'm just visiting and I wanted to see you after all those years. You know... not as your patient for once... without the drama.” she chuckled nervously.

The woman smiled warmly. “And I'm glad you stopped by.”

She turned her gaze towards Misha, still smiling. “And I thought I would never have the pleasure to meet you Mr Collins. Or should I say Mr Krushnic?”

Lily paled.

Omg... she knows it's him... she knew!

She exhaled and cleared her throat, trying her best to hide her feelings, but how well could she hide it from the psychiatrist who knew her so well already?

“Pleasure is shared.” Misha smiled back, staying as distant as he could to help Lily staying focused on her task. He could almost physically feel her anxiety though. “Please call me Misha.” he offered.

Dr Dorville shook her head. “Misha then. I've heard about you so many times I almost feel like I know you already.”

Lily laughed with them nervously.

“I kinda heard a lot about you too to be honest” Misha smiled taking Lily's hand in his. Noticing it was hot and sweaty, he squeezed a little to comfort her.

“So how was the reunion? I have to admit I would've loved to see that.” The psychiatrist's smile wouldn't fall, she was visibly enjoying this little game, pissing Lily off even more.

“How dare you...” Lily spat, unable to contain her anger longer.

She stood up slowly, getting free from Misha's hand in the process, and leaned on Dr Dorville's desk, her fists clenched. “How could you do that?”

Misha's and Dr Dorville's eyes met and widened at the same time.

“I opened up to you, I gave you my trust at the lowest part of my life, I shared everything, and you were just strutting in front of me instead of ending my misery.”

“Lily...” Misha tried to calm her down, placing his hand on her back and gently pulling on her shirt so she would sit down.

Dr Dorville wasn't moving. She still firmly sat on her chair, observing Lily's anger without showing any expression on her face, her arms crossed on her stomach. She was taking a few quick glaces at Misha from time to time, but didn't move the whole time Lily spoke.

“You knew all along and you didn't tell me!! Do you at least have a conscience???”

“Lily, please sit down.” Misha pleaded but she wasn't listening, now blinded by rage.

“I hope at least the check was worth it you filthy rat!”

“LILY!” Misha finally screamed, stopping her before she could say another outrageous word.

She turned to look at him with wide eyes. “WHAT? I can't pretend anymore! You heard her! She knows who you are and she didn't even hide it!”

“I understand, but insulting your therapist without hearing what she has to say first won't help us here.”

When Dr Dorville cleared her throat and put her arms on her desk to cross her fingers, they both looked at her expectantly. Lily sat back down on her seat and crossed her arms, a hard expression on her face.

“Alright. Let's hear what she has to say then...”

“Well first... we obviously didn't push the anger-management sessions far enough.”

Lily raised from her chair in a fraction of second, rage boiling in her veins at the doctor's comment. Misha's hand flew on her shoulder and he pushed her down, back on her seat again.

“Then...” she cleared her throat “Would you please clarify for me and tell me what you're accusing me of, because frankly I'm a little lost here.” she admitted, sounding vulnerable for the first time since they entered her office.

Lily flashed her eyes at Misha, silently asking him if she was screwing with her. He cleared his throat and thought it would be wiser to speak for her.

“We um... we found out people had been lying to her... to us... for years and we're actually here today to know how exactly Lily's case was recommended to you in 1990.”

Lily didn't even wait for an answer and ignored Dr Dorville, addressing Misha directly : “She recognized you and called you Mr Krushnic even before I introduced you and she knows about our reunion! Do you seriously still have doubts?”

Dr Dorville stood up and calmly went to one of the shelves in her office, coming back with a framed picture in her hands. She handed it to Lily.

“Do you know who this girl is?”

Lily frowned at her and angrily took the frame. She paled when she looked at the picture in it, seeing a teenage girl, a wide smile on her face, standing between... Jared and Jensen.

“What the-”

At the bottom of the picture, she read “JIB 4”.

“Do you know her?” Doctor pressed, but still very calmly.

“N-No?” Lily had really no idea who the teenage girl was and was now very confused.

“My daughter. Claire. She's a fan.” the woman winked at Misha.

Lily looked at Misha who was still in his chair, looking now as lost as her. She turned the frame for him to take a look and he frowned when he saw the picture of his co-workers in the office of Lily's therapist, but soon his face lightened as he understood more or less what it was about.

“Okay I'm lost.” Lily admitted.

“I know about Misha thanks to her. She was in Rome that year.” She went back to her seat, inviting Lily to do the same.

“As I try to be a good therapist, but also an attentive mother, I did let her go on her own because she heavily pleaded for months, and when she came back, she was so excited that she showed me something like a million pictures and hundreds of videos... which I've patiently watched until she was done jumping everywhere saying it was the most wonderful weekend of her life.”

Lily side-eyed Misha, not knowing what to answer to that.

“Imagine my surprise when I saw my old patient on stage with “Castiel”... talking about his lovely childhood memories after he ran into her in an airport, very surprised because he thought she died in a fire when they were sixteen.”

Dr Dorville raised from her seat again, this time to unlock a cabinet filled with files and took one of them before laying it on her desk in front of Lily. She opened it when she saw her name on it, studying the few documents inside. She saw the very brief recommendation letter from Northfield Hospital among a few pictures of her taken in the burn unit, and lots of transcriptions of their therapy sessions. Nothing that looked suspicious.

“Of course I couldn't tell my daughter about you. Like I said, I try to be a good therapist, I never talk about my patients, even to my family. I did my homework though, I was intrigued to say the least, so I've made some research and called the doctor who recommended you to me in 1990, trying to understand what had happened. I never could reach any of the people who took care of you that year. They all miraculously vanished, died, retired or were always too busy to answer my calls or emails. I understood you've been played way too late unfortunately.”

Lily swallowed and looked at her without being able to speak a word.

“I'm sorry I didn't find out when you were still a teenager though. But frankly who could possible think about such a twisted story? How can something like that happen outside Hollywood? Oh and yes... when you have a famous boyfriend which face was plastered in my daughter's bedroom for years, you can expect me to know who he is even without introducing him...”

The woman stopped talking and waited for one of them to say something... anything... but Lily was speechless and Misha was too busy trying to suppress the laugh that threatened to go out of his mouth. He had the feeling Lily wouldn't quite appreciate that.

“I'm curious now though...” Dr Dorville broke the heavy silence. “I'd love to hear the whole story to be honest.”

Lily opened her mouth but her shame was too strong at that moment so she gave up trying to talk, shutting her mouth right after her lame attempt and looking at Misha with a look that clearly meant “please do something”.

“Why don't we go eat somewhere tonight and we'll tell you everything?” he offered, and Lily looked at Dr Dorville with eyes full of hope. It was a great idea, and certainly the best way to ask for forgiveness after what she just did.

That night, Lily and Misha ended on a very nice restaurant near the beach, explaining everything to the psychiatrist that probably saved Lily's life after the traumatic events of 1990, and inviting her to their wedding.

[chicandchaud-blog]

N°25  • ‘Tea with Nova’

In today’s post I’m switching things up and introducing you guys to a new segment on my blog, ‘Tea with...” (obvi you could insert your favorite creator there sometime soon, LOL). In today’s post however, it’s Tea with Nova, who is the creator of the renowned hair (wig/frontal/closure) store, ‘Little Bones’. In this interview you will read up on what’s to come from Little Bones, along with some of Nova’s true feelings about the world of Second Life – that’s as far as creating, and more. Thank you so much for taking your time to read, and enjoy. *special thank you to Nova Faerye for trusting my pen, and being my first guest.

alas, the interview;

J: I’m so glad to have you here today considering your super busy schedule, also I’m totally loving the hair! – I must ask how are you today, what’s been up?

N: Thank you, and I'm doing good! A little tired, been working super hard but it's a good kind of fatigue. You?

J: I’ve honestly been fine just keeping up with my studies, and making sure my readers are loving my content – speaking of my readers, since I do often times post looks, I must ask who are you wearing today?

N: I'm wearing the Lexi jumpsuit from the ISON x Rowne collection, shoes from Vale Koer, and some turtleneck I found on Marketplace a while back. Pretty simple, but I love a clean look.

J: I love how your look is curated of different creators that don’t technically fit in the same “theme”, versatility is always key when pulling a look so I want to ask you who are some of your favorite creators, along with the reason why.

N: That's a long list to be honest, so this might be longwinded. I love so many people, clothing wise I love people who push boundaries of what people would normally wear, like Sanya Bilavio of Vive Nine and Fiore, Harry from ISON, Bob from Vale Koer, Fash from Rowne, Vo Pralou from Seul, Tyr Rozenblum from all her various projects, Nylon and Poly from Nylon Outfitters and Yummy,  They're all so incredibly hard-working and sweet people with a unique vision, there's no one like them. Hair wise I love Silent Acoustic from Moon, my best friend and confidante. (to the tune of Golden Girls). Lamb, Lelutka, Magika, Exile... pretty much anyone who's put the time in building their style. They're all super unique and something special.

J: The people you listed are literally so iconic, and statement making, so with that I must ask in the world of Second Life – what do you feel is missing, or otherwise what do you wish would make its grand return in the field of creating?

N: Hmm, I'm not sure. I guess I miss innovation-- people figuring out fun ideas and how things could work for people. Basically becoming inventors on top of designers. That's not to say people aren't doing it at all, but it could be more. Can you imagine how exciting it would be if everyone threw out a game-changer all the time? SL would be even more amazing.

J: The idea of being inventors in the field of creating ontop of designing sounds like a dream come true, you yourself could consider yourself one given the versatility of your groundbreaking style hud. Since in some case scenarios what’s able to be done in Second Life is limited – If you could change one thing about Second Life what would it be?

N: Give me physical bones to work with so I can finally make a whippy ponytail. Bento is almost right, but a full physical skeletal system would just make my heart explode.

J: I’d literally die to be able to whip my ponytails on here, so that seems fun, I’d like to ask what is your biggest pet peeve on Second Life aside from not being able to make that awesome whippy ponytail?

N: That people don't make more clothing for Belleza, those hips though.

J: Haha! That’s actually a pressing issue that I hadn’t realized, I thought it was just a joke that Belleza didn’t have much clothes. – I want to dig deeper into the questions, and ask you how do you feel about people that try to imitate your aesthetic?

N: I don't really think about it that much. I think people get to where they want to be eventually, and for the most part watching and learning is an important way to find your own aesthetic. So, if people use my work as a stepping stone to their best work that's totally fine; also, it's a natural unconscious thing to pick things you like to build on. It's not that serious to me.

J: I like how you don’t mind technically being the ‘blueprint’ for what ones’ style may be. I would however like to ask since you said that learning is an important way to find your own aesthetic, what influenced you to create in the style that you do, and also what gravitated you to wanting to create hairs?

N: I guess a multitude of things. My style has always changed over the years, so it could be anything from pop culture to my personal style. I'm ever-evolving, so it could be anything from runway, to movies, to animated characters. For the creating question, when I first started, it was only because I wanted certain styles and colors people just weren't doing. I wanted to make stuff for myself, and share it with people who might like them too. Plus I felt like I'd be pretty good at it.

J: Aesthetics sometimes do in a way ‘promote’ stores, and attract customers – so tying into that statement, did you ever expect to be where you are now in the field of creating?

N: Actually yeah, I knew I was pretty good. Definitely not great, looking back. I put on some of my older styles and cringe like crazy.. But when you look at any creator, quality only goes up. I knew I could do that eventually.

J: LOL! Looking at past projects as a creator could always make one cringe a bit. The next question I have for you would be, if you could teach your old self a  thing or two, what would it be?

N: All the tricks I learned to make wigs faster, although I'd probably have a catalog full of shit, so maybe it's for the best that it went the way it did. Another piece of advice would probably to calm down. It's not that serious. Have fun, do what you want.

J: That’s a great answer, some people want to have the best formula, or recipe early in the field of creating, but don’t take into consideration what could have been the result of that. Another question I’d like to ask is what advice if any could you give those wanting to learn to, or just starting to create.

N: Pretty much the same answer. Actually, a big one I'd wanna put out there would be that there really is no such thing as competition here. People get caught up in the race to be the best, when that doesn't matter. Just worry about YOUR best. People will love your craft, and it won't matter what the next person is doing. Another thing, do what you want, don't listen to people who want to influence you. If you don't like what you're doing, it won't turn out very good. Put some love in it, and you'll do great.        

J: Great advice! So, obviously you’ve put a lot of love into your brand – so I want to ask this question that has been bothering me since we’ve sat here. I’ve always wanted to know, where did the name, “Little Bones” come from?

N: It came from the fact I wanted something edgy and cute. I also hate the name and wish I could change it. Haha. It reflects who I was at 19, not me now at 25. We'll see down the road if I branch into a name I like better.

J: Haha! Well, Little Bones does sound edgy and cute so I can’t knock that, but  since you did mention that you’d branch into a new name possibly – I want to ask what could we expect from Little Bones in the near future?

N: A lot more ideas I want to implement, a cute building I'm working on, as well as collaborations and image changes. It's important for me to grow and learn, or I'll just get bored. But in the end, expect more frequent releases. There's a slew of beautiful things just waiting to get out on the grid!

J: Well, Nova! That’s all the questions I have for you, thank you sooo much for stopping by and giving me your time to ask you these questions. Do you have any more words?

N: No, thank you so much for having me, and I cant wait to show the grid what I’ve been working on!

Please be sure to keep up with Nova Faerye of Little Bones on her social media, and shop at the links below!

FLICKR / MARKETPLACE / INWORLD STORE

#HQ

[hopeymchope]

Baseball - Naegiri One-Shot - Danganronpa Fanfic

So I’m basically putting a Danganronpa spin on a famous scene from “The X-Files” and making it about Naegiri. All apologies for the fact that a couple of the elements of this are blatantly unoriginal.

"Makoto?" Kyoko Kirigiri called out. The moonlight was only providing the faintest outline of a human silhouette that stood a few meters ahead of her. She lifted the small LED flashlight she was carrying to illuminate Makoto, who stood smiling in front of a chain-link fence.

"Sure is," Makoto Naegi answered her with evident glee.

"You had a chain-link fence installed?" she asked him, sounding a little irritated. "In the middle of an empty field?"

"Better," he answered happily. Kyoko tracked him with her flashlight as he took two steps to his own left to reach what appeared to be a junction box. There, he bent down and she heard a ka-thunk.

Kyoko was momentarily blinded as a set of floodlights on tall poles illuminated the surrounding area. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that the fence Makoto was standing beside was tall, and it hugged two sides of a large square of light brown, sandy-looking dirt. In the center of the dirt there was a small mound. That would've been enough to tell her what she was looking at all by itself, but the pitching machine located there sealed the deal.

"A baseball diamond," she stated flatly. "You had the groundskeeping team make a baseball diamond."

"Yes!" Makoto said excitedly. "I mean, the old Hope's Peak had one before the tragedy and years of neglect wiped it away. So I thought, as long as we're fixing all of the old Hope's Peak's problems and making a better vision of the school, why don't we do this better, too?"

Kyoko clicked off her flashlight and inserted it into her coat pocket. "And how much did the floodlights cost us?" she asked, a harsher edge creeping into her voice.

"Gah — n-nevermind that!" Makoto muttered hastily. He turned and gestured to home plate on the other side of the fence behind him. "Wanna step up to the plate and have a swing?"

She approached the fence at an angle that kept her a couple meters away from Makoto. Upon reaching it, she regarded the plate and the dusty old bat laying beside it for a few seconds, then folded her arms and lifted her attention to the pitching machine upon the mound. "Please tell me," she said coolly, "That you didn't purchase the machine as well."

"Oh, come on," Makoto pleaded. He stepped closer to her and opened his arms wide as he turned to face the infield. "You don't think that all of this is beautiful?!" he asked.

"It's a geometric patch of dirt," Kyoko responded in a monotone. "The grass is cut nicely, at least."

He looked at her with disbelief. "Have you ever played baseball?" he asked.

"No," she replied quickly. "Have you?"

"Pffft," Makoto scoffed. "Of course I have," he said simply. "I love playing baseball!"

Kyoko narrowed her eyes and looked at him with skepticism. "Really," she said accusingly.

Instantly, Makoto fell onto the defensive. "Well... okay, I love watching people play baseball. I mean... it is the most popular sport in the nation."

Kyoko smirked with satisfaction. At least that sounded more like the man she knew. "Is this part of your established affection for anything that's popular?" she inquired, gently teasing him.

Makoto shook his head frantically, waving his arms in the air as he insisted, "Forget all that! The point is that the New Hope's Peak should have a good facility for athletic activities, and this is one of the most common athletic needs for any Japanese school."

Her eyes drifted upwards as she considered his point for a moment. "I suppose... that does make sense," she accepted.

Makoto moved away from her and stepped away from the backstop area, walking towards a small gap in the fence. After stepping through, he strode over to the plate and picked up a wooden bat that was laying next to it. "I suppose the only part I like playing is the batting practice," he admitted. "Even when you blow it, it just... it feels good to try." He half-smiled and shrugged before adding, "Feels less good in a real game, though."

Kyoko smiled at him. "You're such a little boy sometimes," she said affectionately. "Okay — tell me about the therapeutic benefits of swinging a stick at a piece of horsehide."

"Come in here, and I'll show you," he fired back, grinning at her.

She acquiesced by heading through the gap in the fence. While she approached, Makoto poked one hand into his jacket pocket to confirm that he was still holding the remote control for the pitching machine.

Kyoko took the bat from his free hand and grabbed it tightly on the grip, then stepped up to face the plate. She lifted the bat so that both hands were on its grip and it was pointed straight up towards the sky, attempting to imitate what she'd seen of the game before.

Makoto stepped away for a moment, which only left her unprepared when she felt saw his arms coming around her from behind and felt his body press tightly up against her back. He put his hands on the bat's grip as well, working to guide her while simultaneously embracing her.

Kyoko felt herself blushing. "Ah," she gasped quietly.

Makoto moved his right hand on top of her own as he leaned his head around and whispered in her right ear. "Come on now, you're wringing the life out of it. Hold on firmly but gently, like a solid handshake."

Kyoko tilted her head to the side and whispered back. "Friendly or business?" she asked, half-joking.

"Business," he told her quietly. They shared a giggle. "Oh, and keep your hands together," he advised.

"Right, so I'm in the middle."

"Yeah, sorry."

They both shifted their hands around so that she had her hands in the center of the grip, with one of his on either side.

"Bend your knees a little," Makoto continued. "But only juuuust a bit."

Kyoko did so, lowering her stance. As she did so, Makoto moved to match, subsequently pressing his groin up against her rear. Kyoko felt him pressing into her and held her breath for a moment.

"S-so," Makoto continued nervously. "When you swing, you need to turn your lower body before your upper."

"Hm?" Kyoko hummed. She finally exhaled.

"Your knees and waist," he explained softly. He removed his right hand from the bat, then placed it onto her right hip. "Swing when the ball is approaching so that you turn your hips first, then your hands follow."

"I see," she said. Kyoko twisted her waist, pushing her butt back into his groin as she turned her body before lightly swinging the bat forward.

Afterwards, Makoto stammered, ""Th-that's... not really hard enough."

Kyoko smiled and turned back to see his face, raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure?" she teased.

Makoto swallowed hard. Kyoko turned her attention back to the pitching machine. "I'm... beginning to see the appeal," she said quietly. "Do you want to stop practicing and try this for real?"

She heard him inhale sharply. "What-"

"The swinging," she clarified quickly.

"R-right," Makoto said, chuckling to himself. He withdrew his right hand yet again so as to push the button on the remote in his pocket.

His hand returned to holding her waist as the two of them waited.

By now Makoto had his groin pushed up against her butt, his chest against her back, one arm reaching around her, and the other on her waist. Kyoko had to bite her lower lip to fight a smile, which distracted her when the first ball shot from the machine and flew in front of them both.

As it hit the chain-link fence that served as their backstop, she glanced back at the first baseball and just said, "Oh."

"Just focus on where it's coming from," Makoto suggested.

Kyoko turned and fixed her eyes on the machine. As the next ball flew out, she felt Makoto pushing at the bat. She followed his urging and turned her hips, then hands as she stepped forward and swung, barely missing.

"Ut!" Kyoko grunted.

"Close," Makoto said gently.

Now she was hell-bent on succeeding. Kyoko bent her knees and returned to her batting stance, smiling tightly when she felt Makoto's body pushing up against her.

"You know," Makoto whispered, "As you focus your attention on hitting a small object, it's easy to forget about your other worries."

A ball shot out. They swung together. The ball hit the top edge of the bat this time with a krik, bouncing high and over the backstop.

"Good, really good," Makoto said. "That's about how most of my hits go," he added with a small laugh.

"We can do better," Kyoko said firmly. She smiled. "We're always better when we're together."

A ball shot out. They swung together. It hit the inside part of the bat mid-swing, generating a cluk sound and bounding into the dirt in front of them.

"When you're up here, there's only one job," he breathed into her ear. "Just like you said earlier: Hit the horsehide with a stick."

She grinned to herself, preparing for another swing.

"There's no budget to worry about, no construction to oversee, no massive murder games to haunt you," he continued. "The bat has to meet the ball. It's the only thing that matters. Everything else just... fades away."

A ball shot out. They swung together. It hit towards the center of the wide end of the bat, letting out a satisfying krrack. The ball flew forward and a little high, hitting the dirt between the first and second bases.

"Yes!" Makoto said enthusiastically. "That's it!"

Kyoko took a deep breath and looked at the spot where the ball hit the dirt with satisfaction. "Of course, that would've been easily caught by the first baseman," she observed with a shrug. "Still... not bad for my first few swings."

Makoto stepped back and looked at her quizzically. "You've never played baseball, but you know the base positions?" he asked.

"There's a difference between not playing it and not knowing how it works," she said lightly. "But like I said before: I do see the appeal now."

He shut off the pitching machine with his remote while he said, "I'm glad to hear it. And I know this was kind of random, but I... I appreciate you doing this with me. I wanted to share this with you."

Makoto turned and looked over at the pitching machine with sad smile. "When I was a kid, it was my dad up there," he said wistfully. "He never let me give up whenever I thought things were tough. And even on the nights when I knew what I was doing wrong — that my swing was too late, or not hard enough, or too low — it still took me a lot longer to hit the ball than you took on your first time out."

Kyoko put a hand on his shoulder. "You were a boy," she reminded him. "And I have some combat training on hitting moving targets, you know."

"I know," Makoto said. "I wasn't trying to sound negative. Only trying to let you know how impressive you are."

The two of them smiled and turned to face one another. Kyoko put her other hand onto Makoto's other shoulder. "I appreciate that," she told him. "But I also want you to know that you were wrong about two things."

"Oh?" he said.

"First off, I didn't let go of everything else on my mind while we did this," Kyoko told him. "I never thought that the ball was the only thing that mattered. Because I never stopped feeling something else right behind me — something that always matters much more to me, regardless of any other point of focus."

Makoto blushed and looked away, but he couldn't hide the giant grin on his face. "And... the other thing?" he asked.

She learned closer and tilted her head a little, her single braid swinging down under her chin as she quietly whispered into his ear: "Nothing about you has ever been 'not hard enough.'"

Makoto jerked back and winced, then broke into a nervous laugh. "That... that was awful," he warned in a low voice. He smiled shyly yet still couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with her.

Kyoko covered her mouth with one hand, trying to keep herself from laughing with him. "It's hard for me to resist testing the boundaries of your comfort," she admitted. "I find you adorable when you're embarrassed."

He raised his eyes to meet her, his face still beet red. "Thanks, I suppose? Are you... ready to head back?"

She lowered her hand from her mouth and nodded slowly. "So long as we both head to the same place," she offered flirtatiously.

He smiled affectionately back and reached over to take her hand in his. "You know me," he said. "I'd follow you anywhere."