#one winged masquerade AU

[crisiscutie]

Incorrect Dissidia AU quotes

*Aerith is teaching Dissidia Darling to mentally resist Sephiroth's attempts to infiltrate her mind.*

Aerith: Sephiroth believes he is the center of your world, and he's right. But you're the JENOVA queen and you gotta show him he obeys YOU! He can't control you directly, you know.

Dissidia Darling: I suppose...

Sephiroth: *in Darling's mind* Mother, what are you doing? 🥺

Aerith: Ignore him and focus on me. He should know we are having a conversation right now.

Sephiroth: *his sweet voice now has a menacing tint to it* Don't you love me, mother? Can't you see that I'm unhappy without you? 😢

Dissidia Darling: He sounds so sad, Aerith... Maybe I should talk-

Aerith: No, no, it's a lie. You should tell from his persistence that he still sees himself as the dominant one.

Dissidia Darling: You're right. I'm in control of my destiny! *Kicks Sephiroth out of her mind by sheer willpower*

Sephiroth: ... THAT CETRA-🤬

It is now canon in the AU that Aerith help started Darling and Sephiroth's power struggles 🤭

[hauntingrabbits]

Batman my little pony AU. Part 2 here, Part 3 here

More info on these under the cut!

1. Sundown Mane/Batpony (Bruce Wayne)

His backstory & general situation is pretty much identical to every other batman out there so I wont get into it.

Other notes:

-His cutie mark is a masquerade mask that I tried to make vaguely bat-shaped. The general public sees his Cutie Mark through the lense of his reputation, and he leans into it heavily to obscure the truth. In interviews, he presents it as being tied to hosting galas (it’s the reason he started hosting those huge masquerade balls in the first place) and/or his fashionable looks, but in truth it’s far more representative of his stealth and disguise capabilities, as well as his masked night time hobbies as a whole.

-He’s not an actual bat-pony in any way, the bat wing appearance is just the costume (intentionally designed that way for intimidation, battle, and obscuring his identity further). Though most citizens assume he’s a true bat-pony, other rumors range from him being a vampire, to an Earth pony with false tech-based wings, to a magically disguised alicorn, to a spirit of the night.

-If Batman were actually to be a pony I think he’d 100% be an earth pony, because his big thing is relying on skill and tech rather than power and he has the whole “normal guy amongst gods” thing going on. HOWEVER. There are actual bat ponies in this show. How am I not supposed to utilize that somehow for the guy whose name is BATMAN? Also with Sundown I think being a Pegasus just fits the playboy personality front he puts up. I don’t know why, its just vibes.

-I think he just doesn’t fly much while patrolling as batpony, instead using his wings for extra jump or for intimidation and cover like with his cape. They’re probably steel-tipped or something too. He doesn’t rely on flight for advantage and trains entirely grounded because he doesn’t want to be dependent on flight and find himself lost if his wings are ever incapacitated.

2. Apollo Honeyscales/Two-Face (Harvey Dent)

Fascinated by the Equestrian legal system and craving a more organized society than what was offered by his generally disorderly and solitary fellow Chimeras, Apollo moved to Gotham to pursue higher education. Unfortunately, ponies are often intimidated by, if not downright terrified of Chimeras, so though Chimera cultures usually give each head equal social weight and three individual names, Apollo quickly adapted to instead try to present himself as pony-like as possible. He used a singular name and pronoun for his whole body, presented the less intimidating, herbivorous-looking goat as his “main” head, and eventually even took to having a faux Cutie Mark applied for media and court appearances. Prior to the attack, the lion and the snake head were never seen talking in public, and even in private the only ponies to have heard them speak were his close friends Sundown Mane and Glider Gold.

After being attacked with acid in court, Scales succumbed to injury and had to be amputated, while Honeybite was left alive but severely scarred. With this event, Apollo’s and Honeybite’s already fragile mental states from years of pony society othering them, the weight of their job, and personal repression finally snapped in their grief and anger, leading Honeybite to fully take the reins and create the criminal persona of Two-Face. Attempts from both Sundown and Glider and to reach out since have been unsuccessful.

Other Notes:

-According to the wiki only one chimera shows up in the whole show so. I made stuff up. -Chimeras typically being solitary is based on the fact we only ever see one in the show. This solitary nature would make it hard for them to have a widespread legal system at all, let alone to enforce it; thus Apollo’s original fascination with the foreign pony legal system. The Chimera in the show also has individual names for each head, each with a slightly different style (the goat following pony name conventions with the name Pumpkin Cake, the tiger following a slightly more violent version of pony name conventions with the name Sweetkill, and the Snake bluntly just being named Snakey). I tried to follow similar conventions for Apollo. I was most happy with the name Scales, because it followed the blunt snake naming convention while also sort of doubling as a scales of justice reference. Apollo is just a reference to Harvey’s nickname in some of the comics, and Honeybite is just for fun.

-His perfectly split coat is unique even among other chimeras, and as Apollo he was generally considered attractive and “exotic” by Equestrian media outlets.

-The temporary Cutie Mark application was done professionally. (Surely ponies have perfected this art, right? Like this has to be something pony society does and has services for, right? Ponies covering up embarrassing Cutie Marks, blank flanks covering up an embarrassing lack of a Curie Mark, Ponies getting Cutie Marks done for costumes, theater, movies, etc… you get it.) Apollo’s choice of a faux Cutie Mark is meant to serve as both a way of further integrating himself into pony society and a proclamation of his legal skills.

-Apollo was a genuinely great lawyer. Ponies on defense were often so preoccupied at the terror of having a lion and a snake silently stare them down that they wouldn’t realize it was actually the goat they should’ve really been afraid of until their entire case had already been ruthlessly torn to shreds.

3. Glider Gold (Gilda Gold)

Even prior to their relationship and subsequent engagement, Glider had long been Apollo’s closest friend and confidant. She saw the way his job and keeping up his image was tearing him apart long before the acid attack, and she deeply regrets not trying harder to get him the help he needed before it was too late. Multiple news outlets have been trying to get an interview with her and their efforts only increase every time Two-Face shows up in the news (despite Sundown’s efforts to dissuade them). She hasn’t been the same since the attack and Apollo’s disappearance, losing interest in her work and finding her friendship with Sundown heavily strained as they both feel the weight of Apollo’s absence.

Other notes:

-I wasn’t even going to draw Gilda originally because she’s such a minor character in Batman stuff but as I was writing out Apollo’s background she nudged her way back in. I like her too much.

-This version is based on her very first iteration where she was a sculptor. Her green coat is a reference to that version’s accompanying Two-Face (also his first iteration), who had green scarring.

- The choice for her to be a pegasus was mainly just to go with her silly name, but I do think being a pegasus would be beneficial to a sculptor. No ladder required to work on high details just fly up there.

-I am not immune to the bruce/harvey/gilda agenda

[papiliomame]

Ectoberweek 2023 Day 29: Masquerade

SPOILER FOR A GLITCH IN TIME!

I recently rewatched the endings of the anime "Durarara!!" and I was thinking that so many versions of Danny popped up throughout the years, it is time for a Danno-tower.

I limited myself to 15 versions and a few other AUs sprinkled here and there because 1) this artwork is already long enough and 2) there are so many AUs and different designs I would need much more time to draw them all.

Here is a list of what AUs are shown here in no particular order and if possible where I could manage to pinpoint the origin of the AU:

Human Danny(Canon)

Ghost Danny(Canon)

End of AGIT Dan Phantom ( A Glitch in Time graphic novel)

Ghost King Danny

DCxDP ( I just put Batman in there as a representative for the whole DC cast)

Crypid/Monster Danny

Spider Danno (dannypocalypse)

Full Hazmat Danny (Mask by @in-the-ghost-mode)

Disabled AU ( I think this post by @madametamma made this AU more known in the phandom on tumblr but I personally encountered this AU in Everything was White by @lexosaurus which the release of the first chapter predates the post)

Little Baby Man (@tourettesdog)

Clown Danny (@letswonderspirit)

Coffee Ghost Danny (@typo-art)

Winged Danny(@the-stove-is-on-fire)

Merman Danny (not sure about this one, but my guess it's from the "Mermay" art event which occur on several social media sites?)

Lab rat Danny

Team Halloween (@the-stove-is-on-fire and @healthysharkshealthyocean fic Ghost in the NYC and the comics)

Shared Cujostody AU(@duchi-nesten)

Wes and Kyle Weston(not sure where the origin is but @lexosaurus made a whole dossier about him here, there are also infos how Kyle Weston came to be)

Dani Masters( a variation of this is the Cheese Melt AU by @lilianade-comics)

I hope those are the correct, for everything else I couldn't really find where they originated from.

This idea was original for the "ten years" prompt but after some work I conclude this fits more the "masquerade" prompt, because AUs are kind of a masquerade to the canon.

[borathae]

"All it takes is one evening of getting Yoongi drunk to find out just how needy this man can actually get. Alternatively: Yoongi is drunk and that means his restraints are gone. So he decides to ride you, because that's all he really wants to do."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Yoongi, Dom!Reader, he is cute & a lil bratty & also a total painslut, then his instincts kick in and he becomes so fucking needy, like SO NEEDY, she is so gentle but also slaps his face like twice, she calls him a good boy & a slut, consensual drunk sex, needy pegging in cowboy & lotus position, lotsa making out, butt spanking, cock slapping, anal fingering, handjob, blowjob, edging (m.receiving), multiple orgasms (m.& f.receiving), prostate milking, so much cum, so much drool, he squirts, belly bulging :’), vaginal fingering, he has his fangs out, biting, a very vocal Yoongi, i just need him to know that he is cute, loving aftercare

Wordcount: 10.8k

a/n: this is Sanguis!Yoongi when he is drunk and trusts her completely. It's so cute and hot and I just want him to be happy. hahah help me. I love them so much, I'm gonna rip off my own face skin and cry about them

“I wanna be fucked”, Yoongi whines against your neck, pressing your hand to his clothed crotch. He begins rubbing himself against it, lips parting in a needy moan.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanna be fucked, please”, he is lulling his words, tugging you closer as he tries to get your hand inside his pants. 

“And you decided that in the middle of the hallway?” you laugh, feeling your stomach tingle in excitement. He is so needy. It’s so hot when he is.

“Yeah”, he whines, “come please. Come”, he orders in a huff of air and tugs you with him as he stumbles to your wing. 

“Okay, okay I'm already coming. Holy moly, you really didn’t do well with that wine, did you?”

“No”, Yoongi giggles the word. Yeah. He giggles. He giggles as he shakes his head and lifts his shoulders to his ears, adding two little skips into his steps on top of that.

“Okay, wait. Love, slow-“

The door falls closed.

Your back hits it. 

Yoongi cages you in and grabs your face to kiss you. 

Deep.

Passionate.

Needy.

And sloppy. 

He tastes like desire and wine. He sounds desperate. Feels like fucking heaven. His knee is between your legs, punching up the fabric of your floor length dress and grinding right against your pussy. The thin fabric of your panties does little to mask how amazing his thigh feels. 

“Fuck Yoongi”, you rasp, tilting your head back. The kiss breaks but he litters your neck with wet kisses instantly. 

“Fuck me”, Yoongi answers you in a keen, dragging his tongue up your pulse point until he ends it with a flick right under your ear, “wanna be fucked, please”, he begs in a whisper, letting his voice tickle your ear.

You went out tonight. Like every year, the university hosted its late autumn masquerade ball and like always, you wanted to go. As did Taehyung and the boys of former Sanguis and, well, Yoongi wanted to go too once he saw how excited you were. He went with a suit and black mask like every year, while you went with the prettiest dress inspired by the Regency period and an intricately done venetian mask. Taehyung made it for you. Your masks have long been discarded by the front door. As has Yoongi’s long coat somewhere on the endless hallways of the estate. 

You had so much fun at the ball. There was zero drama and even less danger. Just dancing, laughter and way too much booze. One should also mention that you did a lot of making out and that Hoseok ended up winning the costume contest with his realistic Mothman costume (it looked hotter than it sounds, promise). Back to the booze however. You drank a lot, all of you, to the point where you had to call a cab back to the estate because none of you were able to drive. Yes, even Yoongi. The Creator who normally never gets drunk because he'll heal before that could happen. Not tonight however, no amount of healing will get this man sober again. And you love it because drunk Yoongi means clingy Yoongi and that’s one of your favourites. 

Most of you arrived home safely except for Hoseok who refused to come as he met a woman at the ball and he wanted to spend the night with her. The others were all busy too. At Seokjin's place. No further details needed. 

Which left you and Yoongi stumbling to your wing and Yoongi acting the horniest you have ever witnessed him act. 

You witnessed Yoongi drunk one time before tonight. It was back when you were still on the road and you came back from a dance. That night will always stay in your memories. It truly will.  

Yoongi swoops you off your feet, making you squeak because you didn’t expect it.

He grunts, swaying from side to side dangerously. 

“Don’t drop me, I’m serious”, you warn in a laugh. 

“I’ve got you”, he lulls, stumbling down the hallways, “kiss me, wanna be kissed please.”

“Mhm my prince”, you sigh, kissing him gladly. 

It was strange at first to return to university after everything you went through. People looked at you weird, but you tried to ignore them. The masquerade ball is too much fun to miss out on. Especially this year when the world was finally safe. Even Yoongi let loose, asking you for one dance in the ballroom while the others got drunk in the disco. It was very nice, but also the moment you realised just how wasted Yoongi was as he whined about how pretty you were in front of other people and he never does that. 

Thump. 

“Ah Yoongs”, you gasp. 

“Sorry.”

Yoongi just hit the door with your back, now fumbling with the doorknob to open it. 

“You said you’ll be careful”, you whine. 

“Sorry”, he tries to kiss you, “don’t be mad. Are you okay?”

“Yeah I guess”, you giggle, “what are you doing?” 

“Tryna open the door. Is it stuck or something, the fuck?” he tries to wiggle the doorknob. 

“You gotta push.”

Yoongi does it with little pressure. The door opens instantly. 

“Oh”, he lets out, sneaky a shy glance at you, “I knew that.”

“Mhm sure”, you say and chuckle, “kiss me, you idiot.”

“You's mean”, he mumbles and leans in to kiss you. He stumbles to your bed, dropping you on top of it and without ever breaking the kiss, he climbs atop your lap. He plops down, moving his hips back and forth in a needy grind while his hands are cradling your face. Your legs are tangling over the edge, as are his feet. 

“I'm mean?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“Yeah. You messing with my heart. It keeps racing”, he says, guiding your hand to his chest, “feel it.”

“Yoongs, your heart stopped beating three thousand years ago.”

“Oh yeah”, he flutters his lashes, “doesn’t matter. Being with you's making me feel flutters in it”, he says, tapping his chest with your hand, “right there. Tingles so much.”

You twist his shirt and pull him close. Yoongi falls with a surprised gasp, gasping again when you kiss him deeply. He grows limp atop of you, except for his hips. They begin wiggling like crazy. And his feet. He begins kicking them happily. 

He cups your face, breaking the kiss solely for the purpose of littering your face in big smooches. 

“Loveyou, you's the best, loveyousomuch”, he slurs his words but they are clear to you. 

“You are so drunk”, you giggle in a squeak.

“Ye, drunk on you”, he retorts, wiggling cutely, “is what you said to me. Remember?”

“Ye. I do.”

Yoongi kisses up and down your nose, moving on to your left cheek. He makes loud kissing noises, mixing in the occasional "mwuah" or a lulled confession of his eternal love. 

Truly, drunk Yoongi is the most precious treasure on earth. Freed of his restraints and anxiety, he finally becomes who he wants to be deep down. This is him. This is the real Yoongi. And you can’t get enough of him.

Yoongi ends his love attack by sucking in your cheek and biting it gently. 

“Ah Yoongi”, you gasp, moving away. 

He releases you with a bop, gawking at you with puckered lips. 

“What?”

“You bit me.”

“I did not.”

You snicker, reaching up it squish his cheeks.

“You're so cute.”

He huffs out air, cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips, using his tongue for it until you moan and kiss him back with just as much passion. 

Yoongi is the best kisser on earth. No. In the universe. Gentle but so passionate. Sweet but so rough. Loving and oh so skilled. Kissing him is paradise. Kissing him while you are both stupidly drunk? The best experience ever. You don’t ever want to stop. He makes you so happy. He feels so right. He is so perfect. 

Overwhelmed by your feelings you break the kiss to litter his face with kisses.

“My cutie. My Yoongi Boongie. My handsome prince”, you mumble, kissing every inch of his perfect face.

Yoongi lets it happen with squeezed shut eyes and his prettiest gummy smile. He kicks his feet the whole time, wiggling his hips because nothing in the world could contain the happiness he currently feels.

You end your love attack by kissing his lips, falling back into the most passionate kiss ever. You are smiling so much, holding each other, feeling so high on one another. 

His fingers begin fumbling with your dress. Clumsily and without any sort of plan in mind. Their only goal is to get you out of that dress. 

“Shit. Goddamn it”, Yoongi breaks the kiss to curse under his breath.

“What's wrong?”

“Your dress's not opening. Why's it not opening?”

“Maybe ‘cause you're tugging on the collar instead of the lacing?” 

“Oh”, his fingers slip, “I knew that. Just wanted to test you”, he mumbles, changing his grip to finally open your dress. 

“Yeah, sure you did”, you say in a chuckle.

You sit up to help him, giggling when Yoongi gets off your lap to fall to his knees before you. He tugs the dress down your legs, caressing your ankles as he helps you step out of the big heap of fabric. He discards it on the floor and moves on to taking off your shoes. 

Once they are discarded as well, he lowers himself to place a worshipping kiss upon your left instep. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes mesmerised by him. You are towering over him atop your big bed while he lays worshiping by your feet. You feel hot all over because of it. 

Yoongi kisses your right instep as well, ending it with a little hiccup.

“Scuse me”, he lifts his head, “I'm so drunk. You have really pretty feet.”

“Well thank you, my prince”, you say and giggle, lifting your foot to dance it up and down the buttons of his dress shirt. Yoongi arches into the touch, presenting his palms on his lap as if he was made to do so. 

He is fully dressed while you are barely clothed. Only a matching set of satin lingerie is keeping you modest. Yoongi can’t seem to take his eyes off of it, breathing heavily while his thighs squeeze together desperately. 

“Can I see you tonight?” you ask him, trying to open his bow tie with your toes. You are failing miserably.

Yoongi replaces your toes with his fingers, opening the tie and letting it drop on the ground. He begins opening his dress shirt afterwards, submissive eyes glued to your face. This is his answer. He feels really sexy tonight. He knows that it is because of the booze. The knowledge doesn’t stop him, on the contrary, it encourages him. If he ends up doing something embarrassing, he can just blame it on being too drunk and then you won’t be able to judge him. He feels so confident tonight. Confident and like the hottest person ever born. 

He drops his shirt on the floor, gasping softly when you stop his fingers from opening his belt by stepping on his hand. 

“Stand up”, you order.

Yoongi obeys, getting to his feet before you. You tug him closer by his belt. Yoongi stumbles with wobbly knees, feeling his stomach tingle. He loves it so much when you are rough with him. He stumbles, catching himself on your shoulder. 

“Careful”, you giggle, hugging his middle with your cheeks squished against his soft tummy. 

“Sorry, is really hard to stand”, he lulls, hugging you back.

“I know, I’ll be fast”, you say, placing a loving kiss on his tummy before lifting your head. You smile at him, eyes spilling over with love. You are still hugging his waist, “you're so handsome, my love.”

“Thanks”, Yoongi mumbles, swaying his shoulders from side to side. Your sweet words only strengthen tonight's feelings. He is so, so sexy and handsome. Yoongi loves feeling that way. It makes his tummy all tingly and his brain all fuzzy. 

You turn your head and bite him. 

“Ah”, he gasps, cupping your head. 

It was a gentle bite. Nothing more than a nibble of love. But it was on his tummy. And his tummy is terribly sensitive. Yoongi rubs his thighs together, swaying like crazy.

“Don't do that”, he whines. 

You release his skin, “why?” you ask, gazing up at him with sparkly eyes.

“Feels so much”, he whispers, scratching the spot you bit. 

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Ye.”

You scrunch your nose up, giving him a blinding smile. One last kiss to his tummy and you sadly release him, moving on to getting his pants down. He slips out of his shoes as you work, wanting to waste as little time as possible.

The belt buckle hits his thigh as you let it fall open. It doesn't hurt, merely making a metallic clinking sound. 

Yoongi is holding his breath, looking down at you with his lower lip between his teeth. You are opening his pants. One button at a time until it is finally done. You run your hands to his butt, slipping them inside the pants and tugging them down but not before squeezing his round buttocks. 

He gasps because of it, feeling dizzy. The pants fall down, pooling by his feet. You touch his hips, tugging him closer. Yoongi steps out of his clothes, finally he is freed of them. He would feel really self conscious on other days, but tonight he feels good. He is so handsome when he is naked. That’s how he feels. 

Your eyes are glued to his clothed cock. It is already straining the fabric of his black briefs. 

“All mine”, you whisper, making his knees buckle. 

“___”, he moans your name, climbing onto your lap messily. He grinds against your thighs instantly, kissing you with a needy mewl.

You chuckle because the kiss surprised you, breaking it just so you can grin at him. 

“I'm yours”, he lulls, “is true. All yours”, he says, fighting you gently just so he can kiss you again.

“You're so freaking cute”, you say, “goddamn it Yoongi, I love you like crazy.”

“Love you too”, he mumbles, hiding his giddiness by pushing you into the sheets and burying his face in your neck. He begins kissing your skin instantly, nibbling and sucking on it until you feel lightheaded. The thing with Yoongi is that he loves biting. Obviously because he is a vampire. He loves biting, but he doesn’t want to go too far, which results in those really tingly and gentle bites all over your body. And they drive you insane. Truly insane.

Yoongi whines, lifting his head. He is pouting at you.

“Why? What’s wrong now?” you whine and chuckle.

“I wanna suck your tits. Why do you have a bra on?”

“Tzt, crybaby”, you arch your back off the mattress, “open it.”

Yoongi follows gladly, opening the clasp in the back and pulling the straps off your arms. He throws the piece of clothing over his back.

“That's really expensive, just saying”, you snicker.

“Is fine”, he dismisses you and gathers your breasts just to bury his face in them. 

“Mhhm Yoongi”, you sigh, closing your eyes in delight. His lips are so soft, his tongue so eager. He is nibbling again, biting and sucking every inch of your chest without ever going too far. It feels so good. His fingers caress your skin as he kisses you. He adds just a little bit of strength every now and then, sending electric sparks through your veins each time he does. 

Yoongi giggles, kicking his feet happily. He is so, so happy. You are so perfect and the fact that he can kiss you feels so, so good. 

He lifts his head only to rest his cheek on your breasts, sparkly eyes gazing up at you. 

“You're so pretty”, he whispers, sparkles in his eyes growing, “and soft and warm and perfect. You's so perfect.”

You smile, running the back of your hand over his cheek, “you're so cute.”

Yoongi looks away, wiggles and then attacks you with the tightest hug in human history. You squeak, allowing him to shake you around as he does everything in his power to squeeze you against him. 

Somehow in the sweet mess of it all, he managed to change positions so you were fully resting on the bed now, heads supported by pillows and toes facing the foot end. 

Yoongi breaks the hug, but stays close enough that he can kiss your neck. He is humping the side of your leg, panting against your skin. 

One arm is still under your head while the other is draped over your tummy. Not for long however, just as Yoongi begins mewling softly and his cock is oh so hard against your leg, his hand begins traveling down your body, soon disappearing inside your panties. 

You open your legs happily, sighing his name when his fingers begin feeling up your pussy. 

“So wet”, he whispers, drawing circles on your soaked entrance.

“It's your fault”, you answer him in a sigh. 

Yoongi snorts and giggles, rubbing against you in a giddy squirm.

“You always say so much”, he whines, “so mean.”

“I'm not mean I'm-oh”, you struggle with your words because Yoongi just buried two of his fingers inside of you and is now moving them in and out carefully, “I-I'm telling the…truth.”

Oh, he's got you so sensitive already. Being with Yoongi does that to you. You like him so, so much and being with him makes you so eager for his touches that whenever he finally gives them to you, you can barely even handle them. It feels so nice to be touched by Yoongi. Especially when he is as perfect and cute and amazing as he is tonight. 

You slip your hand into his briefs, palming his cock.

“Wait”, he gasps, tensing up.

“What's wrong? Don’t want it?”

“No, is just that. Wanna be naked.” 

He abandons you for just a second as he wiggles out of his briefs. You do the same, watching him with the biggest heart eyes ever. Whatever was in the wine tonight made him brave. You are so giddy. Normally it takes Yoongi at least an hour of sex to feel safe enough to undress and now he is doing it willingly during foreplay. He is so perfect when he is like that. 

Yoongi drops into the sheets and shimmies back to you. You roll to your side, kissing his lips with sighs of his name. Yoongi purrs, kissing you back with a dizzy head. It happens naturally that his hand slips back between your legs. You lift your leg, draping it over his hips to give him better access. Yoongi buries his fingers back in your pussy, forcing a shudder to run through you. 

“Feels so good”, you whisper.

“Good, you’re so pretty”, he whispers.

“Yoongi.”

“What's it?”

“Yoongi, you feel so good”, you sigh, gazing into his eyes. 

He seems mesmerised by you, eyes racing between yours. 

“I'm so drunk”, he whispers. 

“Me too”, you snicker.

“You're not real. I'm so drunk, you can’t be real”, he lulls.

“Does that feel real?” you ask him, wrapping your fingers around his cock. You give him slow strokes up and down as best as possible in the position, putting more pressure each time you reach his tip. 

“Y-yeah”, Yoongi croaks, squeezing his eyes shut, "oh god", he huffs out and whimpers softly.

“It's real, Yoongs”, you promise him.

“You's real”, he sighs, throbbing in your hand, “I'm so lucky”, he adds in a barely there whisper. 

“I'm lucky too”, you breathe, closing your eyes as you fall into the sensation. 

Soft moans, gasps for air, sounds of eager touches. The room fills with the melodies of your pleasure, mixing with the ruffling of sheets and the sounds of kissing each time one of you steals a kiss or two. You both know you won’t be able to orgasm soon. You are too drunk for that. But you don’t mind because it’s so goddamn amazing to be close and to touch each other and to feel those nice tingles of a loving hand for as long as you want to. You don’t want to climax because being with each other like that, all dizzy and droopy and bursting with happiness, is the best reward ever. 

Yoongi stubs you with his nose, calling your attention. Your eyes meet. He looks so droopy. His face is glowing now that you are sharing so much heat with each other. 

“Finger me”, he lulls. 

Your hand around his cock falters.

“I'm sorry?” you gasp. 

“Want your fingers up my butt. Please”, he begs, wiggling his hips. 

“Hot. What the hell? Hot?”

“Please?”

“Uh heck yeah? This is the hottest thing you ever said. Let me just get the lube.”

You hate that you have to end the amazing thing you currently had going on, but this is more important. Yoongi never asks for things. At least not for himself. He'll take what you give him, but he will never ask for more. Even while you are doing something he won’t ask for another spot to be touched and you are left figuring it out yourself by accidentally touching his favourite spots and making his body shake involuntarily. So to have him ask you to do something to him, especially butt stuff, makes you want to squeal. This is the best night ever. 

Yoongi is on his back once you return, welcoming you back by grabbing your waist and scrunching his nose up.

“I can't believe you're letting me do that to you.”

“Want it so bad”, Yoongi says and opens his legs, “is that good? Want another position?”

“No. No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect”, you say, having to kiss him because otherwise you would have exploded in emotion. He is the best person ever. 

Yoongi kisses you back, mewling quietly. 

“You're so perfect. My perfect man”, you mumble, feeling him up desperately. 

Yoongi barely handles the touches, writhing under you with flutters in his tummy. His skin is so sensitive. Your palm is so soft and warm. He can’t handle how good you make him feel. 

The kiss breaks once you reach his inner thighs, Yoongi has more important things to do. Like gasp your name and part his pouty lips. His skin feels electric wherever you touch it.

“The prettiest. You’re so pretty”, you praise, “and soft. Why are you so soft?” 

“I'm soft”, he repeats, wiggling his toes. 

“Yeah you are. Wanna keep squeezing you”, you say, squishing his inner thigh right next to his cock. 

Yoongi keens, parting his legs more. It tickles, but also feels intense. His cock begins aching because of it, yearning for a touch. 

You don’t give it to him, which he dislikes at first until he can feel your touch on his balls. You massage them gently, forcing the warmest sparks to course through his tummy. 

“Except for there. You’re so hard”, you say, squeezing them until it hurts. 

Yoongi gasps, opening his legs further. His balls feel like bursting. 

Slap. 

“Mo-oh my god”, he chokes out and arches his back.

“That was a reward for being so cute”, you tell him.

“Want it again”, he begs, touching your tummy with shaky fingers. He scratches your skin softly, “please.”

And because he is so adorable right now, you can’t deny him. You slap his balls a second time, ending it with a harsh squeeze. 

Yoongi moans in gratefulness, letting his eyes fall closed by rolling them back first. 

“You're so sexy like this. Fuck, Yoongi”, you rasp, spanking him one last time before moving on to a new spot. You know better than to keep going. Yoongi can - and did - cum from cock torture and you don’t want this to happen. Yet. 

Yoongi wants to complain at first, but doesn’t when he feels your fingers brush against his hole. Just once and nothing more than a feather light touch. He is so sensitive that it felt a million times more intense however. He chases you, tilting his hips to make it easier for you. He drops them again the second you touch him, veins filling with tingles.

You put more pressure than last time, drawing circles. 

“Feels so good”, he sighs, seeking you by rolling his head to the side. Like this he can almost bury his face in your tits. 

“And I haven’t even started yet”, you whisper, sending shivers down his spine. You sound so confident. Yoongi feels dizzy. You are so hot like this. 

Your touch retreats for a moment. A click lets Yoongi know that you are covering your fingers in lube. Another click as you close the bottle then you touch his rim. 

“Ah”, he gasps, twitching in surprise. 

“Sorry, was that too cold?”

“No, is good”, he says, shivering when you begin moving, “is so good. You so good.”

“You're so sensitive”, you put the slightest sound of teasing into your voice, making Yoongi huff out air. 

He flusters way too easily. He can’t bear to be teased. Especially not tonight when his senses are so heightened because of the booze. Of course he is sensitive. He danced with you and kissed you and you called him handsome so many times. He had to get sensitive. It was unavoidable. 

“Now take a deep breath for me”, you whisper.

Yoongi obeys, releasing it a second later despite his efforts. He can’t help it, your finger is in his ass and that feels so good.

“Slipped right in. Wow my Boongie, you’re so greedy, aren’t you?”

He nods his head vigorously.

“Love your finger. Is so good.”

“Of course you do”, you whisper, moving it in and out of him slowly. To get him used to it. To feel him up. To enjoy his tight warmth for as long as possible. 

“Don't stop”, he whispers, adding a breathy “please” as he widens his eyes at you. His pouty lips are parted and his sparkly eyes widened. He looks so cute right now. 

“Oh my Boongie, you’re so cute”, you giggle, scrunching your nose up before leaning down and rubbing the tip of your nose against his’. His eyes flutter closed, a sigh slips past his lips, “my dearest love”, you whisper, curling your finger in search for his favourite spot. 

“Good, is good it’s- ah, a-ah”, Yoongi gets out, voice pitched in surprised pleasure.

“There? Right there?” you ask, massaging the spot inside of him.

Yoongi opens his legs, thighs twitching involuntarily. He purrs deeply, scrunching his nose up as he nods his head. 

“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, drinking in his expression, “you're taking me so well, my prince.”

It is fascinating just how tight and warm he feels around you. Truly, Yoongi’s warmth is so addicting and quite frankly, adorable as well. You realised that whenever he is close to you and he feels especially happy, he becomes warmer than on normal days. As if your presence in itself gives him enough nutrition for his body to heat up. You love to cuddle him whenever that happens, which results in Yoongi purring happily and becoming even warmer. 

“You're burning up, love”, you whisper, kissing his temple. 

“Feels so good”, Yoongi sighs, “one more, please.”

You slip your ring finger inside, eliciting a raspy purr from him. It vibrates deep in his chest and is filled with his honest bliss.

“Like this?”

He nods his head, cock twitching angrily as you scissor your fingers.

“You're so tight, I’m surprised that you can take me.”

Yoongi peels his eyes open, frowning at you.

“What?” you ask in a chuckle.

“Don't slutshame me.”

“Slutshame you?” You snort, “what are you talking about?”

Yoongi closes his eyes, “shut up.”

“No, no I'm not. Are you telling me that you’re my slut? Mhm Yoongi? Is that it?”

“No it’s not. Stop. Take your fingers out. I don’t want it.”

“No? You don’t? So if I do this, you don’t want it?” you challenge, curling your fingers against his prostate. You begin massaging it, forcing him to gasp and shudder. 

You get to your knees between his legs and wrap your hand around his cock. 

“And if I do this, you don’t want it?” you taunt, jerking him off quickly as you continue fingering his greedy bum. Quick and hard, just like you jerk off his leaking cock. It’s what deserves for pretending that he isn’t into it.

Yoongi squeaks and grips your hand with trembling fingers. He writhes, thighs trying to close in a desperate attempt to flee from the harsh fingering. It’s too much, Yoongi doesn’t know how to handle it. It feels too good.

“Mhm? If I do this, you don’t want it? Mhm?” you challenge with hunger in your eyes. He is shaking so much, it’s so cute. His bum looks so good taking the harsh finger fuck, his cock is all twitchy and leaky. 

“___”, Yoongi gasps and lets out a loud “ah” followed by a whiney moan. He is trying so hard to get your hand to stop, weak fingers barely closing around your wrist.

“So cute. You’re so cute when you're shaking. You’re such a cute, little slut, Yoongi love. Such a cutie”, you coo, forcing his cock to leak all over your fingers.

“Please not so, so fast”, he begs, squeezing your wrist weakly.

“Why?”

“Cum”, he gets out and arches his back with a whiney little sound escaping him. 

He feels fucked. Your fingers are so fast and know exactly where to touch. It’s like you're already fucking him. That, mixed with the dizziness of the booze and Yoongi swears he is going to crumble any second now.

“Please slow”, he begs, gasping for air. 

“Cute”, you rasp and slow down, but only so you could take him into your mouth. Yoongi arches off the mattress, fingers twisting the sheets and cute hole squeezing around your digits. You are fucking them in and out of him slowly and to their fullest, giving Yoongi a taste of how it feels to be stretched out over and over again. He takes you so well, sounding oh so perfect doing it. 

“No please”, he gasps, “___, please”, he whimpers, throbbing in your mouth. 

He tastes so good. Like desperation and pleasure. You love it so much, slurping it up hungrily. His cock fits down your throat so nicely. Yoongi normally hates it when you deep throat him. Not because he dislikes the feeling, on the contrary he loves it, but because he is always scared that he will make you gag and therefore uncomfortable. He doesn’t have to worry about that tonight, because you are drunk. And when you are drunk, your gag reflex ceases to exist. It’s probably the added boost of confidence. You won’t ever complain, it feels so fucking empowering to be able to take his entire cock down your throat without needing to gag. 

Yoongi is appreciating it as well, thighs trembling like crazy and hole pulsating around your fingers.

“You're really un-unfair”, he stutters, punching up the sheets with his toes as he curls them. Nothing else helps. He is getting his ass fingered and his cock throat fucked. He wasn’t ready for what he bargained for when he asked you to finger him. You are too good and way too eager to destroy him. 

You slip off of him, allowing your drool to drip down on him. It runs down his veiny shaft until it soils his dark pubes, marking him as your property. 

“So you don’t want this?” you rasp, playing with your spit, “mhm? You don’t want any of it?”

Yoongi swallows heavily, recovering for a short moment with quick pants for air. 

You pull your fingers out, anticipating his reaction.

“No”, he whines breathily, “no, back. Please back”, he whispers and you hear him.

You do. But you want to tease him. You press your wet fingers against his soft rim, drawing slow circles on it. It’s remarkable how relaxed and loosened up he already feels. 

“Back”, he breathes.

“Mhm? What was that? I couldn’t hear you”, you tease.

Yoongi places his hands on the back of your head, pushing you down shyly. He bucks his hips up, hitting your nose with his cock. It makes you giggle because it was funny to be nudged with his cock.

“Please”, he whispers. 

“You're so fucking cute”, you gush, taking him back into your mouth. He glides over your tongue until your throat hugs him tightly. Only then, do you stuff your fingers back into him, using your wrist to control the movements. Deep and quickened and just enough to force him to twitch inside your mouth over and over again. You moan deliciously and begin bopping your head up and down, going fast because it makes him whine so cutely. 

Yoongi grips the sheets again, hitting his head against the pillow twice before he decides to arch his back instead.

“More fingers please”, he begs, shaking when you purr around his cock. Deeply and deliciously. The stretch of his hole which follows makes him shake again. You listened, now burying your pointer finger in his butt as well. Deep and so thick. Your fingers in that position stretch him out so much.

“___”, Yoongi moans, “___ please. Please.”

Yoongi is awkward. About literally everything, but especially about his sexuality. Now. He never looked for labels or definitions. If a person attracts him sexually then so be it, he never cared about what was between their legs or what that would make him. He does care about how he fucks however, what he receives and how he receives it. Because receiving is hard for him, especially butt stuff. He doesn’t let anyone other than you close to this part of his body. It’s too intimate, makes him too vulnerable and requires a level of trust only you – and maybe Jungkook – achieved. So yes, Yoongi is awkward about butt stuff. Even if he loves it so much. So, so much. But this right here? This right here makes him want to keep begging you and act like a complete slut. This is the endgame. The real deal and he is burning up. 

“Thank you”, he croaks, thighs shaking each time you fuck your fingertips against his prostate. 

You moan around his cock, sending sparks through his veins. He is too sensitive.

“I'm gonna- ah”, he gasps, gripping your hair and twisting it desperately, “you're making me cum”, he croaks, relaxing his muscles in preparation for the warmest most amazing high ever. 

Stop. 

Pain and suffering. 

Agony. 

Yoongi has to sob and writhe.

You stopped. 

Slipped off his cock, removed your fingers. They are gripping his thighs now, forcing him to stay open even if all he wants to do is close his legs and rub them together. 

You laugh. Tauntingly and with enough craze in it to make Yoongi’s skin crawl in hot, dumb pleasure. 

“You didn’t actually think that I'd let you cum did you?” you ask and laugh, “oh Yoongi, you’re so gullible.”

Yoongi whines and wraps his fingers around his cock, trying to jerk it off. Anything please.

Slap! 

You slapped them away instantly.

“Ah”, he gasps, peeling his eyes open just in time to watch you place yourself atop of him. His legs, you force to stay open by keeping his thighs thrown over yours. Like this, your crotch is pressed right against his ass, taunting him because there is no cock inside him but all he wants is for you to stuff him with your strap. 

His grabby, misbehaving hands you pin right above his head, digging your fingers into him in a strong grip. 

“Keep those hands where they belong. Hear me?” you growl. 

Yoongi rarely falls into subspace. Entering that state means giving up control and letting another person see the part of him he is most ashamed of. He thinks there is nothing wrong with wanting to be like that when other people want it, but he thinks it’s embarrassing when he wants to be like that. You however make it easy to fall. And fun. And quite frankly you make him love every fucking second of it. He feels so tiny and weak and that’s all he wants right now. That and your strap.

“Yeah”, he gets out.

“You do? So why did you try to touch yourself, mhm?”

“I'm a slut”, he lulls, going dizzy under your piercing gaze.

“No, that’s not it is it? Tell me the truth.”

Yoongi shakes his head, earning himself an aggressive roll of your hips. He mewls, wishing for another one.

“Tell me Yoongi, tell me.”

“I'm a brat”, he keens, rubbing himself against you by wiggling his hips needily. He needs the friction, needs to feel as if you are already fucking him. Oh god, it doesn’t feel the same. Yoongi wants to cry, why doesn’t it feel the same? He needs to be fucked so bad. 

“Exactly. You’re a brat”, you rasp, abandoning his wrists to scratch down his arms. 

Yoongi keeps them above his head naturally, mewling your name with closed eyes. He opens them a second later when you slap his face and therefore surprise him. They are widened and glassy, looking at you with so much submission burning in them. You slap his other cheek, gripping his face right afterwards. Your fingers dig into his cheeks as you keep him hostage.

“Don't look at me like that. It makes me feel bad that I had to slap you”, you rasp, forcing even more submission into his droopy gaze. “What's wrong?” the question may be of nurturing nature, but Yoongi knows your true intentions behind it. This is to mock him, to force him to voice his wishes even if it embarrasses him so, so much. He wants to kiss the ground you walk on. You are so mean and perfect. 

“Fuck me”, he gets out, feeling his cheeks heat up instantly. 

“That's not very polite of you, is it?”

“Fuck me please. Please. Please fuck me”, he begs, trembling desperately. He wants to burst, he is so embarrassed and weak and fucking sensitive. He should stop humping you like a needy dog, because it makes him want to cum but he can’t stop. It feels so good to grind against you. 

“There we go. That’s better”, your features soften in fondness, “you’re so perfect when you’re being my good boy”, you praise, releasing his cheeks to instead caress them gently.

There you go again. Messing with him. To go from slapping his face and calling him a slutty brat to caressing his cheeks and calling him your good boy. Yoongi can’t handle it. He felt so perfectly degraded only to be lifted and be made feeling like the most treasured person on earth. He is too drunk and giddy for that.

Yoongi whines and throws his hands over his face, kicking the sheets.

“Please just do it, why are you so mean?” he mewls.

“Why?” you giggle, tugging his hands away to beam at him, “why are you so shy, huh? It’s just me.”

“Yeah, it’s you. Exactly”, he pouts.

Your eyes soften. You rest your chin on his hands as you hold them.

“You’re so cute”, you whisper, stubbing him with your nose. Yoongi closes his eyes, chasing you with a tilt of his head. You stay, whispering the words against his lips, “do you wanna be my good boy and get the strap for me, mhm?”

He nods his head in obedience.

“Good boy, such a good boy”, you praise, rolling off of him, “off you go, get my strap”, you order him and as Yoongi climbs out of bed, you can’t help yourself and slap his butt just once.

“Hey”, he complains, pouting at you with furrowed brows.

“You’re so cute”, you snicker, giving him the biggest heart eyes.

He huffs out air and turns his back to you to waddle to your sextoy dresser instead. He takes out his strap of choice and waddles back to bed. You watch him with a fond grin on your face, stifling a giggle because his walk is rather hilarious.

“Don’t look at me. I hate walking with a boner”, he whines, making you laugh.

“I think you look cute”, you say, “you’re swaying so much, my love. Are you really drunk?”

He falls atop your lap, rubbing himself against you. He nods his head, humming deeply.

“I’m drunk too”, you say.

“I wanna fuck”, he whines, “please put it on. Why are you taking so long?”

“Oh excuse me that I can’t really move when you’re plopping yourself down on me”, you laugh, pinching his sides.

Yoongi giggles, writhing away, “don’t tickle me”, he whines, rolling off of you. You chase him instantly, gripping his waist just to tickle him more. He laughs squeakily, pushing at your chest, “please stop. I hate it.”

“Sorry, sorry”, you snicker, caressing his waist instead, “I couldn’t resist. I love it so much when you laugh.”

“Put it on please”, he begs with burning cheeks. Truly, he is adorable. You realised by now that Yoongi gets those really pink cheeks when he's drunk. Paired with his naturally shy blush and he looks beyond adorable. 

“I am, I am”, you say, slipping on the harness. You make sure that everything sits in place, sighing happily because it grinds against your clit all nicely. You are going to love using it, that much is for sure. You climb back on bed, “done, you- eeek”, you squeak in surprise as Yoongi grips you by your shoulders and throws you into the sheets. 

He climbs on top of you, intertwining his fingers with you and pinning your hands above your head. Like this, his long hair is hanging into his face, framing his glowing features. 

“Wanna ride you”, he confesses, grinding against your tummy. 

“Hot”, you whisper, gawking at him with a dizzy head.

“So stay please”, he begs, widening his eyes.

“Okay. I’ll stay”, you whisper, having to smile, “you're so perfect, my prince.”

“You too”, he says, stealing one kiss from you and then he shimmies down your body, sitting down on your lap. He reaches for the lube bottle and opens it with one hand as the other is busy feeling up your strap.

He spills the lube all over it, lips curling into a dirty smirk as he begins jerking it off while his other hand grips your waist, thumb tracing your tummy.

“You're so fucking hard”, he rasps, leaning over you so his hair was hanging all into his face again. He places his hand right next to your head, lowering his eyes playfully, “you're so fucking into me, aren’t you?”

“Uuuh…yeah?” you let out a breathy laugh, “what the hell is happening? Where's my shy Yoongi Boongie gone?”

“He left”, Yoongi says and laughs, kissing you midsmile which results in him biting your lower lip and tugging on it until you moan, “wanna eat you up. Fuck, I can’t wait to get your strap.”

“You're so hot”, you squeak out, head feeling dizzy in disbelief.  

“I know”, Yoongi says nonchalantly and straightens up, placing his hand on your tummy for support. He lifts himself, shimmying up your body until your strap was aligned with his hole. He grinds on your tip back and forth, half-lidded eyes glued to your face. “Wanna take you so bad, princess.” 

“Then do it”, you rasp, gripping his hips and giving them a little push down.

Yoongi lets you, widening his stance so he could take you easier. The bulbous head breaches him after a second of struggle, forcing an audible gasp out of him.

“Now I’m in. There we go”, you say, caressing his tensing thighs, “how's that, love?” 

Yoongi sinks down further, placing both his hands on your tummy. Like this, his fingers are tickling your sides nicely. He huffs out air loudly, scrunching his nose up.

“How's that, mhm?” 

“Good”, he croaks and bottoms out, arching his back just so his ass sticks out. His lips curl into a dirty smirk, eyes falling closed, “fuck yeah”, he rasps, chasing your girth with smooth rolls back and forth, “ah fuck. Yes, princess. Fuck princess…”

“You're so hot, I can’t believe that you’re real”, you get out, feeling dizzy. He is rubbing the strap against your clit each time he moves his hips. You are not missing out on any of the sensations, that much is sure. 

“Fuck. That feels so good”, he moans, straightening up and tensing his tummy. He begins moving up and down on your cock, not wasting any second with going slow. He is drunk, dumb and horny. And free. He feels so fucking free right now. No self doubt, insecurities and mean voices in his head telling him that he is ugly. Just silence, pleasure and loud voices telling him how much of a sexy motherfucker he is riding your cock. And he wants it. Wants the rush of confidence it gives him, chasing you with fast movements.

“You're so hot, holy fuck, you’re so hot”, you pant, gawking at him with a racing heart. 

Your words only encourage him to keep bouncing on you. He doesn’t care about how loud he sounds doing it, he doesn’t care about what faces he is making or how his cock moves. He'd ruin the moment on other nights, questioning every single thing, but not tonight. Tonight he is free and desperate for more. More. More. More. Give him more. Make him fall freely. More.

“Keep going, holy fuck, you’re so hot”, you praise, slapping his bouncing cock. 

“A-ah”, Yoongi’s hips falter. He looks at you with ruby eyes. Your gazes meet, electric sparks course through your veins at the connection. “again”, he orders, fucking his hips into your palm.

“You drive me insane", you rasp, spanking his pretty cock. 

“Yes”, Yoongi throws his head back, bouncing on your strap within seconds. Hard and fast and with the intent to not stop any time soon. That’s what he needs. Pain and pleasure. It’s the same thing to him and drives him absolutely insane.

Moaning his name, you spank his cock a third time, watching in delight as this makes it leak. You wrap your fingers around him, spreading the hot slick all over his length. 

“Please continue, feels so fucking good”, Yoongi begs, dropping his head back in synch with his hands slamming down on your thighs. Like this, he is grinding on your strap more than he bounces, but the desperate freedom in his movements remains. He is making sure that his hole will remember tonight. That much is sure.

Wet squelching joins the slapping of skin and Yoongi’s unapologetic moaning, mixing with your mewls and the sound of you jerking him off. 

“Leaky boy, you’re so wet for me”, you taunt, holding his cock just so you can spank the tip with your other hand.

Yoongi trembles, squeezing your thighs. He whimpers, chasing the pain with desperate hips. 

“There we go, keep leaking for me. Love that so much”, you praise, rewarding him with a merciless slap to his cockhead followed by you jerking him off with two hands. 

“I’m cumming”, Yoongi gasps, “I'm cumming, I’m cu- ah!” he yelps, releasing all over your torso as he thrusts into your fists. It lands on parts of your face as well, feeling hot on your skin.

“Yes Yoongi, yes”, you growl, forcing him to shake uncontrollably by jerking him off quickly, “cum for me. You perfect slut, cum for me. That’s it, shake for me. Love it when you do.” 

Yoongi writhes, slamming his hands into the pillow on each side of your head.

“Fuck”, he hisses, following it up with a throaty mewl and his lips curling back to reveal his exposed fangs. He chases you. Harsh and fast. His hole is so tight, his cock so sensitive and yet he can’t stop. He can barely even think. All he runs on, is pleasure. It feels so good. He never felt like this before. Is this what he could have if only his own head wasn’t holding him back so much? Is this how sex could feel like? 

Yoongi slams his hips down on you over and over again, drooling from his parted lips because that’s what he does when he feels too good. It normally only happens when he eats your pussy, but tonight you’ve fucked him into complete dumb pleasure.

You don’t mind that he is dripping onto your face, gazing up at him with droopy, foggy eyes. You have never seen him like that. So utterly lost to the pleasure. He has no idea how much this fuels you, how you are shaking in bliss because it feels like a dream come true to have him act so freely. 

Your right hand moves around his cock, while your left runs up to his chest. You pinch his nipple, rolling it between your fingers afterwards. 

“___”, Yoongi moans, squeezing his eyes shut, “___, I’m yours”, he pants, throbbing in your hand.

“Yeah you are. Fuck, you’re mine. Fuck, Yoongi I can’t stop cumming you’re so hot”, you growl, shaking again because his words just felt too good to hear. 

“___, I’m cumming too”, he croaks, scrunching his nose up, “you're milking me”, he adds and groans, climaxing all over your tits and neck.

“I’m milking you?” you gasp, laughing breathily, “oh my fucking god, keep talking like that and I’ll break you.”

“___”, he moans, fucking his pulsating hole through the tightness. His prostate feels on fire and yet he can’t stop. This feels so good. You feel so good. 

Yoongi straightens up and grips your thighs again, showing you his fangs as he throws his head back with an agape mouth.

“___ I’m yours!” he moans loudly, arching his back. His cock is leaking like crazy. His white milky pleasure is running down your tummy by now, soaking the sheets. And yet he can’t stop, leaking continuously as he fucks himself stupid on your strap.

“Holy fuck”, you choke out, “holy fuck, you’re so hot”, you whimper, spilling tears, “Yoongi, my Yoongi, you’re my Yoongi”, you sob, gripping his cock. 

“I'm yours”, he moans deliciously, “spank me, please.”

You grant him his wish instantly, spanking his throbbing cock. 

“Again”, Yoongi demands, chasing your hand. 

Slap! 

“Again”, he growls, clenching around your strap. He can’t get enough of being fucked and spanked and milked. He wants it so bad. Needs it like air.

Slap! 

“Yes! Again.”

“Yoongi, you’re leaking like crazy”, you rasp, voice trembling in pleasure. You spank his cockhead, rubbing your palm against it afterwards. 

“Yes, again please again”, he begs, convulsing on you with trembling thighs. 

Slap!

“Holy fuck, you’re making me cum”, Yoongi laughs darkly, ending it with an audible gasp and an aggressive, “fuck.”

He arches his back, shifting your strap deeper into him. He hasn't noticed it yet, but like this you can see your cock inside of him. It is bulging his tummy, moving each time he bounces on you. 

“Yoongi”, you moan, “Yoongi, why are you so hot?” you keen, spanking his cock with all the love you have for him. You can’t believe that he is real. And that the universe aligned your paths, “I'm so lucky. So fucking lucky”, you say, digging your thumb into his belly bulge in synch with your hand connecting with his cock in a slap. 

“Woah”, Yoongi gasps, holding your wrist, “woah, woah, woah.”

“Feel that? That’s my cock moving inside you”, you taunt, grinding against his bulge.

“Holy shit”, Yoongi croaks, squeezing his thighs around your hips.

“Yeah that’s it. Feel it. That's how deep I go”, you growl, slamming your hips into him as best as the position allows you to. 

“You're making me…cum. ___, I can’t stop”, Yoongi chokes out, shaking in anticipation.

“You're so hot, holy shit", you spit, fucking him angrily. You need him cumming again, need him to continue making a mess on you.

“Yes, yes, yes”, Yoongi chants, chasing you, “now. Now. Ah, now- ah!”

You can feel his high hitting him. You can’t believe it’s real, but you do. His tummy tenses and begins convulsing, taking your cock with hungry ease.

“Fuck, I can feel you cumming”, you growl, digging your thumb deeper into his belly, “you’re so hot.”

“A-ah”, Yoongi lets out and flinches, “no. No. Nonono why?” he sobs and comes to a stop abruptly, forcing you to lift your eyes. He is gawking at you, lips pouted and eyes sad. His hands are on your stomach, fumbling nervously. 

“What's wrong?” you ask him, “don’t wanna make yourself cum anymore, mhm?”

Yoongi blinks rapidly, parting his lips.

“What's wrong?”

“I healed”, he confesses. 

You furrow your brows in confusion.

“I'm sober.”

“Ah”, you understand immediately. His powers healed him. The sobering up process, which takes normal humans many many hours, is sped up for Yoongi. Which means he is clear in the head again and self-conscious. And being on top of your lap with your strap inside of him after he fucked himself senseless is not his preferred comfort place to be. 

You sit up, forcing him to tilt his head back in order not to headbutt you. Your lips are almost touching, your bodies are grinding against each other, smearing his cum everywhere.

“So? Means I gotta fuck you dumb again”, you rasp, eyes pinning him down, “I wanna fucking ruin you.”

He widens his eyes. You grab his hips and force them to move. Back and forth in smooth rolls, forcing your strap to grind against his sensitive insides. 

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, falling around you in a tight hug. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, his chest is melted with yours and his hard cock is rubbing between your stomachs. 

“Oh god”, he gets out, shuddering desperately.

“That's it, my prince, hold me close”, you whisper and wrap your arms around him, hugging him close, “don’t stop now, you fucking love it so much. Hold me baby, hold me.”

Yoongi thanks you with little moans and stuttering hips, fingers twisting in your hair and parted lips moving against your neck.

He is naked with you. Naked, hot and bursting in pleasure. And now you are hugging. Yoongi is actually able to feel your naked skin against his own as you make him drown in pleasure. He is in paradise. He gets to hug you naked. You are hugging. And he is sober for it. Which means, he'll actually remember it tomorrow.  

“Please don’t stop”, he begs, chasing you with growing desperation. He can’t help himself. It feels so good to have you inside him. 

“I won’t, my love”, you promise him, bending your legs so he can sit even more comfortably. 

Yoongi arches his back, moaning each time his little bubble butt connects with your lap. The position forces your strap to go so deep. Yoongi feels fulfilled in ways that still feel like a dream to him. 

“Such a good boy, you’re doing so well”, you praise him, caressing his hips. He tingles because of it, chasing you with even more eagerness. He has more leverage like that. When he was riding you, he didn’t really have a lot of support and Yoongi fucking loved it, but this right here is on a whole other level. To be able to lean against you, to rest against your body and find support in your hug gives him so much comfort. Comfort, but also the opportunity to move on your strap like he needs to. Fast and desperate. Yoongi bends his legs, hooking them behind you and begins moving like he needs to.

“Please don’t stop”, he begs you, drooling all over your shoulder, “oh god, it feels so good.”

“Yeah it does. You fuck me so good, love. So fucking amazing”, you rasp, rubbing his round buttocks in an encouraging manner.

Yoongi hates being a vampire. There is no denying that. He hates it so much, except for when he has sex with you and his powers make him feel everything a million times more intensely. That’s when he fucking loves his nature. That and when his instincts kick in and force him to act against his will in the best way possible. Like rut against you as if he was an animal in heat for example. Or drool all over you because his head tells him that it was feeding time, but he forces his body to feed on something other than blood. Your warmth and the pleasure only you can give him. It tastes so much better than any amount of blood could ever taste.

Yoongi fucks fast and hard once his instincts kick in. The gluttonous, insatiable hunger for whatever addictive substance his body got a taste from takes control of him and makes him its puppet. And that substance was your strap tonight. Your strap and the deafening amount of pleasure you make him feel with it. 

Yoongi may be sober again, but mentally he is completely and utterly busted. Intoxicated on the instinctive urge to fuck and rut and ruin his little hole. Your loving hug and comforting warmth encourage him to go even harder. 

“I can’t stop”, he croaks, trembling harshly, “I can’- ah, stop.”

“That's so fucking hot. You’re so hot, my love”, you moan, feeling lightheaded. He is moving the strap over your clit as he bounces on your length. Mixing that with the sound of his needy fuck and you are this close to giving up, “you feel so good, Yoongi. So good.”

“You. Too. Ah”, he gets out, breaking his lips away from your neck to instead cup your cheek and pull you into a messy tongue kiss. 

You kiss him back gladly, loving every fucking second of it even it is oh so sloppy. Saliva gets mixed, loud moans exchanged and tongues shoved down throats. Truly, this is the kiss between two people utterly lost in the pleasure they give each other. It is nasty and it is fucking glorious. Breaks for air are scattered throughout the kiss, Yoongi uses the opportunities to curse and moan your name. You use the opportunities to praise him and call him handsome.

“Oh god, fuck”, Yoongi croaks, moaning weakly when you run your fingers under his lips.

“You’re drooling so much”, you rasp, forcing him to drool even more.

“Feels so good”, he whimpers, resting his forehead against yours. He knows that he is drooling. His entire chin is covered in it. It’s so embarrassing to him, but you fuck him so hard that he doesn’t even mind right now. Even in his sober state, he doesn’t care. You have him dumb and stupid on your strap, chasing his high because that’s all he wants.

“Spank me”, he begs, “please ___,  please.”

“Spank you”, you repeat, “fuck Yoongi, you drive me insane”, you moan, connecting your hand with his bubble butt.

“Aa-ah”, Yoongi lets out, convulsing on top of you. 

“Like this? Mhm? Is that what you want?” you taunt, landing another spank.

“Yes”, he mewls, “oh ___”, he sobs, falling around your neck. He hides his face in your shoulder, fighting for air as his body moves all on its own. It is sloppy and uncoordinated, but makes him feel so good.

“Good boy”, you praise, spanking him harshly, “you’re my good boy. Such a good boy.”

It burns so much. Yoongi sobs and forces his lips to lift from your shoulder. He guides his trembling hand to his own mouth and bites down hard. If he hadn’t, he would have ended up biting you instead and that would have made him hate himself forever. So he bites his own hand, moans muffled and body trembling like crazy.

You haven’t noticed it yet, enjoying the tighter hug he gives you and spanking his pretty butt.

“Eeh”, Yoongi squeaks, jerking into you, “hgngeng”, he lets out, coming undone from the pain and pleasure. One last time, but this time feels so good that Yoongi starts squirting all over your bodies, clawing at you because quite frankly he is a little scared of what happens to him.

You join him in his wet bliss with a pounding head, holding him so close that you could honestly merge with him.

“Holy fuck that feels so good”, you whimper, moving your hips into him needily.

Just five more strokes and then Yoongi begins flinching in discomfort, tapping your back in panic. He releases his hand, gasping loudly.

“No more”, he begs, “I can’t anymore.”

“Mhm love”, you purr, slowing down your movements until you come to a stop.

Yoongi grows heavy on your lap, flinching and twitching as he recovers. You are both so fucking sweaty, but still hold each other tighter. It’s all you need right now. To hug as you recover. No words need to be spoken – quite frankly neither of you could – and no touches need to be exchanged. Just a hug. One honest, loving hug which says everything the two of you can’t say right now.

You feel sobered up as well. Not a lot, because you are still really dizzy, but the needy fucking definitely helped your mind clear up a little. You still feel ruined though, but that’s only because Yoongi always does that to you. You finally find strength in your arm, running your hand up and down his lower back. Just a little, on the area of where his tailbone and his buttocks meet. His skin is covered in goosebumps instantly.

“Nobody gets me like you do”, Yoongi whispers, voice completely ruined.

“I feel the same, my love”, you breathe, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

“Did I actually do that?”

“You did”, you smile, caressing his hip, “you were amazing.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Hush, don’t start like this. You feel good right now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, so good.”

“Then don’t ruin it with stupid questions. You know that your brain’s mean. Don’t start believing it.”

“I know, sorry”, he whispers.

“It’s okay. You’re my most loved. You know that, don’t you?”

“I am?”

“You are, my love.”

“I love you too”, Yoongi breathes, hugging you tightly, “so fucking much.”

You giggle, squeezing him right back.

“Oh Yoongi Boongie, you are so sweet.”

He purrs, snuggling into you. He sighs, growing heavier on your lap.

“I’m done for”, he whispers.

“Yeah same. I have no idea how often I just orgasmed”, you say, making him chuckle.

“Same”, he says, wiggling his hips, “we’re so dirty.”

“Yeah I know”, you snicker, making him snicker as well.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

“Of course not”, you assure him, “why? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. No, I was just asking because I lost control.”

“You did?” you gasp.

“Yeah”, he says and huffs out air, “felt so good, it’s not my fault”, he whispers in a little whine.

“So that’s how you lose control? Oh my fucking god Yoongi, you are so hot. What the hell?” you gasp, forcing him to lift his head just so you can smooch his lips.

He managed to lick them clean so you would have no idea that he bit himself, except for one little stain of blood on his chin. You wipe it away, furrowing your brows.

“Did you bite yourself?” you ask him.

“No?” he lowers his eyes, “shut up, you’re so mean. It’s your fault”, he whines with a pout.

“Wow okay, I see how it is”, you laugh, “fine, I’m taking all the blame, but I’m not regretting it. You were so hot”, you say, pecking his lips.

Yoongi grumbles, but smiles shyly, leaning into your touch with closed eyes. He looks utterly content with the situation.

“My pretty prince”, you whisper, grinning goofily, “I wanna eat you up.”

“Mhm”, he hums, wiggling his toes when you bite his cheek gently.

“So sweet”, you say, snickering, “also sweaty as fuck”, you say, smacking your lips.

“Ew, you’re so weird”, he whines, pushing at your chest gently, “why would you say that?”

“Why? It’s the truth”, you tease, laughing when he pulls a funny face because of it.

“I’m insecure, don’t say that”, he whispers, pouting cutely.

“Gosh, I’m sorry”, you caress his cheek, “I was only teasing, I don’t mind when you’re sweaty. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah”, he mumbles.

“Mhm good”, you peck his cheek, “still wanna take a shower together? I feel really sticky.”

“Give me two minutes. My legs are dead”, he says, sighing loudly, “seriously, they’re dead.”

“You’re so cute. Of course, take as much time as you need”, you say, “I think you just like sitting on my strap and you’re pretending that your legs are weak.”

Yoongi stays silent but huffs out air, making you snicker and pat his butt.

“Be quiet”, he mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I am, I am”, you say, chuckling fondly.

[rwrbficrecs]

Hope you all enjoy our recs for November ❤️ (even though they're a little late!!) Incenatus by @missgeevious (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: I can't recommend this fic enough! If you love Twilight and The Phantom of the Opera, this fic is for you! A mysterious masquerade, a soulmate connection, and chemistry that's off the charts all culminate to make this one of my new all-time favorite fics!

Meaning Something by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@dot524: Really enjoyed this Liam POV that goes deeper into what actually happened with Alex and Liam, his relationship with Spencer, and how Liam reacts to Alex & Henry during the book. The feelings & coming out are really well done.

Needy & Greedy by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: It's been HELL of a month in good and bad ways so I didn't have time to read much. I'm choosing to recommend a series of unconnected one shots, all steamy and delicious and fun and short for casual reading when you don't have much time to commit to a 70k fic. If you like smut tis for you!

Taste the Way You Bleed by @cha-melodious (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a super fun What We Do In the Shadows AU, written for the RWRB halloween fest. Alex and Henry are oblivious vampires, pining for centuries, and the rest of the super-six turn up in hilarious mockumentary-style interviews. The summary alone had me HOOKED.

Camp Llwynywermod by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: one of my go-to for comfort, all time fave fics. Alex and Henry as co summer camp counsellors, pining and bickering for years. The tension is top notch!

@dot524: It’s funny and I really enjoyed the camp setting and their journey from enemies to friends to lovers. This is a fun and cute fic.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise (book-verse)

@rmd-writes: an AU of The West Wing ep 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen' - mind the tags, this is an angsty but beautifully written fic with very clever use of multiple POVs to tell several stories of love (including platonic love). This is so good I was mad I didn't write several lines in it myself.

@thesleepyskipper: Truly an incredible and unique work that was done with care. The way the various memories/flashbacks are done and how they are used as part of the storytelling absolutely blew me away. Loved that we got multiple POVs here too!

Underground by @zwiazdziarka (book-verse)

@suseagull04: An adorable kid, fantasy (including mentions of fantasy classics!) and a rescue mission make this such a fun read! The world building in this fic is phenomenal too.

A Long Way From the Playground by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a getting-back-together AU where Alex & Henry were childhood friends who grew apart in college and then unexpectedly are neighbors. I enjoyed the slow burn here and the payoff — it’s just a comforting feel-good fic!

Five-Drink Henry by @whimsymanaged (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: I was honestly already hooked from the title and the fic did not disappoint – so much so that I’ve reread it so many times the past month. Loved everything about this fic!!

The Domestication of Household Spiders by @cultofsappho (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This was everything I didn’t know I needed from a spiderman AU! Loved it so much. There’s also 2 new recent fics published in this series – plenty of spiderman Alex to read!!

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: A really fun fic about Henry’s first American Thanksgiving not quite going to plan. I was already laughing from the summary alone

The great turkey calamity? by @smblmn (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: This fic tells us what is actually means to talk turkey and this once Cornbread is a star he deserves to be. It's crack, it's exsistential crisis, it's hilarious. Oh, and Alex and Henry fall in love here too.

Lay You Down by ronans (book-verse)

@inexplicablymine: when I tell you the fluff is fluffing, Henry runs a sleep YouTube and Alex is in his comment section and in his DM’s and in his head. Do yourself a favor if you need a sweet treat today and read this work

@thesleepyskipper: OMG this could not be any cuter. I loved the way we got to see their relationship grow as they got to know each other online. Truly an adorable, well-written story that will plaster a smile on your face throughout.

Risk is Just a Board Game by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Angst, domestic fluff, college AU, the holidays- this fic has it all! A look at why friends with benefits isn't always the best idea that culminates in an ending reminiscent of a Hallmark movie.

On My Mind (Let's Go) by @sparklepocalypse (movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: contrary to popular fanon, Henry can dance and here he uses that to get what he wants on New Year's Eve party. No notes, just go and read it.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[kittenfangirl20]

((Prince and the Duck Au))

Adam had dreamed of being a performer since he was a little kid. His mom and dad always told him to shoot for the stars and follow his dreams.

But of course, being on the lower side of income and having your parents pass away at a young age didn't put Adam in the fortune 500.

By day he worked at a diner as a waiter, at night he moonlighted as orderly at the hospital. He barely made enough to get by. But his best friend since childhood, Emily and her mother Sera helped him out when they could.

To this day Adam still has his father's guitar and hoped to play in a place of his own one day. A restaurant where he could play his music.

The dream was just that a dream. But that was okay.

Until Adam got the chance to get the place of his dreams. An old place down by the water front and he wanted to show Sera. She was the closest he had to mother.

Adam: What do you think!?

Sera looked around, there wasn't much there. More rats than anything.

Sera: It's.... Interesting dear.

Adam: Oh Sera, once I clean the place up it will be great. I'm almost there! I can feel it.

Sera: Oh honey, I don't-

Adam: Just picture it!

Adam went into detail of everything he saw for the place and Sera smiled. She was so proud of him.

Sera: It will be a lot of hard work.

Adam: Always is.

*things were about to change for Adam in a very interesting way with the arrival of a cruise ship, it held twin brothers Lucifer and Michael, they were princes of a very far off kingdom and Lucifer was heir to the throne, but his parents wondered if he was the choice for the job and they told him if he didn’t prove himself responsible then he would be disinherited and Michael would be the heir, Michael watched Lucifer easily flirt with men and women with envy in his heart, everything came easily to Lucifer that he wanted to see him fail, just then he was approached by the richest woman in town Sera with an invitation to the Mardi Gras masquerade ball being held at her mansion tonight*

Michael: While I would gain from your failure, I would think that you would want to actually find a way to prove yourself responsible.

Lucifer: Don’t worry, it is just one masquerade ball, there will be good food and music. How about we relax for one night before I have to do the boring part.

?: Gentlemen, you must be the Princes that everyone in New Orleans was talking about.

*a man with short brown hair, lightly tanned skin, glasses, and dressed in all red stepped out of the shadows, the thing that stood out about him was his unnaturally creepy smile, what they didn’t notice his shadow moving on its own taking on many forms*

Michael: Who are you?

?: Why I am Alastor the Shadow Man and Master of Voodoo, would you like to see your future.

*Alastor started to play with his tarot cards while watching them, Lucifer then shrugged*

Lucifer: Why not?

*Lucifer dragged Michael while they followed Alastor to his shop, the shop was filled with many strange objects dealing with voodoo rituals and a radio playing an eerie yet cheerful tune*

Michael: How does this work?

Alastor: You could say that I have friends on the other side.

*after giving a very accurate reading of both brothers, Lucifer on how his laidback lifestyle was ruining his chances at the throne and how Michael hated being in the shadows of everyone around him, Alastor pulled out a pendant and used it to collect some of Lucifer’s blood and he started to chant a spell which made Lucifer turn into something smaller and covered in feathers, then Alastor turned to Michael asking him if he wanted to be involved in his scheme in taking over New Orleans which Michael agreed to while Lucifer ran away in shock once outside the shop he saw his reflection in a puddle of a white duck with red circles on his cheeks, but also had his top hat on, when he moved his arm in front of his face he instead saw a white wing*

Lucifer: What the fuck.

*at Sera’s manor Adam and Emily were hanging out while Adam popped a beignet into his mouth*

Adam: I should cut back on these, they made me gain a bit of weight.

Emily: There is nothing wrong with you, your cute and round chubby tummy makes you huggable.

*it was true that Adam had put on some weight because of stress, but if you asked anyone who knew him, they actually preferred him this way, he was mostly muscle but his stomach was soft round and chubby, his thighs were nice and thick, and his butt was nice and round*

Adam: The problem is that my costume for the masquerade ball from last year no longer fits me. This performance is important and I am hoping to buy the performance hall and restaurant tonight.

Emily: Don’t worry, your good friend Emily will buy you a fancy new costume.

Adam: You don’t have to.

Emily: I insist, you are my best friend. You know what, you should dress up as a prince tonight.

*they ran off to a high end costume shop where Emily looked through the costumes until she found a prince’s costume in Adam’s size which was dark blue, black, and gold*

Emily: This will look very nice on you. Who knows, you might get a boyfriend or girlfriend tonight.

Adam: I don’t have time for that.

Emily: I want to tell you a secret, tonight royalty is coming to the masquerade ball, as in princes. You might get one to help you on your music career. What if a prince falls in love with me and we get married.

Adam: You always wanted to be a princess,

*both smiled and talked about their dreams while making their way back to Sera’s mansion*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Will Adam’s duck form be like Grumpy and be a girl duck)

[saphira-artandoc]

C3 Swap AU

Imogen Temult

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This post can contain spoilers!

If you wonder what the swap AU is, I recommend checking it out right here!

Major thanks once again for @theplatinumcritter for helping me brainstorm these characters !

Quick note, this one is slightly darker than the others we have so far...

Title: Lady Imogen Temult, Exaltant Hope of the Crimson Twilight

Age : 58 (28 at the time of death)

Class: Sorcerer (Awakened soul, inner aberration)

Campaign 3 E1 - E55

Imogen is a Hollow one Ruidusborn sorcerer. She grew up in Whitestone but was excluded by many due to her being born under one of Ruidus’ flare. When the Briarwoods took over Whitestone, many villagers ostracized her even more, believing she was a bad omen to the city.

She worked at the stable with her father and mother until she received the invitation to attend a wonderful feast at Whitestone castle. She was brutally murdered after and hanged on the Sun tree as the effigy of Keyleth of the Air Ashari.

When she woke up, she had the worst headache of her life caused by the antlers nailed to her temple. She is prone to migraines ever since she was brought back, believing it’s phantom pain from her trauma. She began developing magical abilities since the tragedy and used her telekinetic powers for her own survival. Months later, she began hearing in her head the voice of her murderer, Delilah Briarwood. Believing she’d never be able to fully heal as long as she stays in Tal’Dorei, Imogen left for Marquet, hoping to build a better life of solitude.

She met Ashton in Gelvaan while trying to escape a mob of angry villagers believing her to be an anomaly. She was rescued by Ashton who violently retaliated against the mob, saving her undead life. Both of them began travelling together, hoping to find a way to help one another. They made her a little horse doll filled with sands when she mentioned missing her filly, Flora. She carries it with her ever since.

Imogen used to have a Whitestonian accents back in her youth, but while spending more time in Marquet than Tal’Dorei, she completely changed her ways of speaking. She wears glasses with fake lenses to appear more appealing and hides her scars from the feast with her hair and ear cuffs, since Ashton and her would be travelling to more populated area. She had a difficult time trying to get rid of the red paint used to dye her hair, and many strands were still stained by the time she met with the other members of Bells Hells.

When Otohan Thull tried to awaken Ashton’s abilities, she killed many members of their group, including Imogen. When this happened, Imogen’s soul was trapped by “Delilah” in a memory of Whitestone, clouded inside a red storm. Once “Delilah” was defeated by Bell’s Hells, Imogen could be brought back to her friends, but her soul was never freed of the influence of “her tormentor”. She gained the ability to create a little companion using the Flora plush doll, showing more of her sorcerous abilities. The doll gained consciousness and has a thicker southern accents.

If needed to, Flora can create patchwork wings and use them to fly. If destroyed, Imogen can reacreate the Sand Specter by using scrap pieces of fabric and sand.

When it was discovered she was an Exaltant, and possibly a vessel for Predathos, the entity posing as Delilah dropped the act, revealing itself to be an inner aberration born from her trauma of the Sun tree. She was supposed to be exalted by what she went through, but instead Imogen cast aside her emotion and left it to fester away. With the Soul Anchor, she became more in touch with her Ruidusborn abilities than before and finally let herself accept her aberrant self, accepting who she is.

She is in a relationship with Laudna.

Masquerade ball

When deciding for outfits, Imogen had a hard time to choose for herself. She ended up choosing a dress that reminded her of her first home, with a patch of fur on the overcoat. She tied her hair into a long braid, hoping the familiar hairstyle of her late mother would bring her strength for the mission ahead.

She travelled with Dorian, Fearne and Orym to the ball.

She was introduced as Maud by Dorian.

The Flora doll has a hand made horse coat to fit with Imogen’s outfit, born of the idea it would be nice to see it be matching Imogen at the ball.

Uthodurn - Saviour of the Diarchy

In Uthodurn, her group were recognized as the saviour of the Diarchy and were given the opportunity to change their clothes. She was finally able to get rid of the red stains in her hair. She abandoned the ear cuff to prevent frostbites and wears druidcrafted yellow peonies to hides the scarred ears.

Flora is adorned with a golden bow, fitting with her Mistress.

Vasselheim - Exaltant Hope of the Crimson Twilight

In Vasselheim, Imogen modified her outfit from Uthodurn to be ready for the battle ahead. She ripped many of the frills from the upper layer of the dress and used black dye the create an ombré to the blue of the dress, reminiscent of a storm.

Flora wears a beaded chain to matches Imogen’s bead cage.

Embrace of Havoc

With the Soul Anchor, Imogen felt more secure in herself and the source of her power. Using Embrace of Havoc, her body stretched, her limbs elongating and her skin turning into a deep burgundy colour, with her hands and feet fading into a deep purple. Her lightning scars become more prominent, going from purple at the tips of her limbs to a bright reddish light where the anchor resides. Lightning circles around her body, attacking whoever is near 5ft of her.

This form is different from canon Imogen’s, taking inspiration from the old theory that Ruidians used to be Exandrians before being corrupted by Predathos’ influence. It is a beautiful amalgamation of herself and the aberration she created.

Dinner with the Briarwoods :

When she was invited to Whitestone castle, the Briarwoods made her change into different clothes. She didn’t comment on it at the time, believing it was part of a dress code she was unaware of.

It’s only after the dinner that she realizes what were the Briarwoods’ intentions for her and the other guests. Unfortunately for her, she had not awakened her power and couldn’t do anything to change her fate.

Relationships

Ashton Greymoore : Ashton was the first person Imogen met who had no animosity towards her for simply existing. When she told him what happened, they made sure they would be here for her. They made a doll out of scrap fabric and sandbags for Imogen when she missed Flora and share their pain with her. They are like family to Imogen. When they were separated by the Malleus Key, Imogen was worried sick for them.

Laudna : Imogen’s girlfriend. Laudna believed they had met before which was what drew her in and both women quickly became friends. Imogen was baffled by Jiana Hexum’s treatment of Laudna. She promised her that they’ll find a way out of her debt with the elf. Couple of days after their reunion in Marquet, Bell’s Hells had to help Imahara Joe in Bassuras, which ended with Laudna going to the All-Mind’s-Burn palace seeking help to assist the attack on the Malleus Key with Imogen. She commented she believed Laudna could have lived in the All-Mind’s Burn palace if it were cleaner, since it “matched her vibes” and even compared her to a noblewoman. Laudna half-joked and half-confessed to Imogen that a noblewoman would need a partner to rule, and Imogen seems to suits that role. She agreed and later asked if she could kiss Laudna. She agreed and are dating since.

Matilda Bradbury : Matilda consider Imogen to be a very capable young woman and is amaze by her tenacity after everything that happened. Imogen vaguely remembers her from the feast and mourns the fact they never had a chance of becoming friends when they were alive. She lets the two girlfriends alone when needed to, opting to let them enjoy some privacy.

Fearne Calloway : Imogen wondered if Fearne’s horns have ever given her headaches in the past. At Fearne’s confusions, Imogen explained what happened to her and showed her the scars on her temples. Fearne was the first member of Bell’s Hells after Ashton to know what happened to her in Whitestone, second being Laudna and eventually the rest of the group. Fearne is also the one helping Imogen recenter herself while letting her power flows, thus calling Fearne Professor Calloway. She is the one to style Imogen’s hair into a milkmaid braid during their time in Uthodurn.

Lilianna Temult : while travelling alone in the first months of her rebirth, Imogen struggled to keep it together. What would help her the most were constant reminders her mother would tell her, like “Keep going, Imogen”. At the masquerade, Imogen wore her hair into a long braid hoping to channel some strength from her mother to face many people inside the ball. She hoped to see her mother again after waking up from the Sun tree, but having found no trace of her parents in Whitestone after the tragedy made her wonders if they were also killed or simple fled the city.

Bell’s Hells : Imogen loves this group of rascals. She feels like she owes them all for helping her get rid of “Delilah”. She often wondered if the reason she was still alive after the Briarwoods was to help them achieve their goals to save Exandria and stop Ludinus Da’leth.

•

•

•

And that’s it for Imogen! But you might be wondering, If we mixed up the years and made Imogen older than she would be in canon (being Keyleth’s effigy on the Sun tree) is Liliana still alive and working with Ludinus, or did we pick somebody else..? I guess we’ll have to wait and see!

Know that the subclass used for Imogen is based of a preexisting homebrew named Awakened sorcerers, inner demon. For the sake of this AU though, we debated a lot of Delilah should be real or a figment of Imogen’s trauma. By the time I’m writing this paragraph, I had my answer by making it the repressed Exaltant power, taking shape into an aberration of self loathing and identity crisis. The Embrace of Havoc form also didn’t had clothes at first. It was supposed to be ephemeral like how the Everlight is portrayed in TLOVM, but I feared of being flagged so…. Fancy robe it it!

Flora is our version of Pâté De Rolo. With Imogen being less fun scary and more “hiding in the crowd” type, Flora wouldn’t be fleshy. With the ties to Ruidus, storms and dreams, I took a more creative approach and created the Sand Specter. (Because sandman mythology - Ruidus dreaming of Exandrian - Ruidusborn are the children of the One who Sleeps, etc)

Also the part about All-Minds-Burn palace is actually a short story I have written when E70 came out! It definitely needs to be reworked though and mayyyyyybe I’ll share it vjgcjhfx

Next character will be Dorian, who should be done by next week, but don’t quote me on that

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Overture ~

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts ~ Bonus Scene ~ 3.1k

Hazbin Hotel/Phantom of the Opera AU ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor (eventual Chaggistor) ₊⁺⋆ Explicit

//This is a little excerpt of my Phantom of the Opera inspired throuple romantasy, updating weekly on Ao3. You can read the first chapter now...but this is the good stuff now hehe//

-----{--(@

Princess Charlotte Morningstar stumbled over the threshold and into the safe haven of her bed chambers. 

She ducked, gathering the skirts of her ballgown out of her way. Her long blonde hair fell loose and tumbled over her shoulders as she slipped into her shadow-drenched bedroom. 

She stilled as she caught sight of herself in the ornate, floor-length mirror that had been a constant part of the Morningstar Castle—ever since she could remember. 

Charlie stared at her disheveled appearance—her hair undone from the intricate style Niffty had crafted and her cheeks flushed a brilliant pink. 

She looked a mess. And she was glad no one else in the kingdom would see her in such a state. 

The heavy door of her bed chambers slammed shut. 

 Charlie watched as it move on its own in the looking glass, cutting off the shimmering light from the marble hall and the raucous sounds of the ongoing celebration downstairs. 

She spun, her back pressed against the polished surface of the mirror, goosebumps prickling over her bare neck and shoulders. 

As a shadow stretched along under her door, unaffected by the long gothic windows and the moonlight from the Realm of Hell’s red sky. 

“I know you’re here.” Charlie breathed. Her voice giving a little tremble. Her eyes darting around the room, eyeing every bit of shade. “You can come out now.” 

For a long moment, where Charlie could only hear the sound of her own pulse thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings in her ears, there was nothing but silence. 

Until a familiar chill ran down her spine. Her eyes darted to the inky darkness collecting under the door, seeping into her room, until they gathered up into a tall and lithe shadow of a man. 

Charlie’s breath caught in her throat as he finally spoke. 

“My dear,” came that smooth, static-tinged voice. “You know, I’m always here.”

The umbra clung to Alastor as he took a measured step towards her with the grace of a killer. 

A shaft of moonlight pierced through the high windows, finally illuminating the demon that had been mythologized into the monster. Bathing the Radio Demon in an ethereal glow. 

The phantom of Morningstar Castle was a vision of dark elegance. 

Alastor stood out in stark black among the other masquerade outfits with their flashing colors. Like the living embodiment of his shadows. Other than the striking scarlet coat with its delicate layer of dark lace. 

“Al,” Charlie felt a tug at the corner of her lips, though she still gripped to the mirror’s gilded edges. “I wasn’t sure you’d follow me.”

“Now, Princess,” Alastor’s voice purred, rich with amusement and unmuffled by the smiling, fanged mask that covered the lower half of his face. “As if I would ever stray far from you. Perish the thought.”

Charlie bit her bottom lip as he drew nearer. 

She would be missed from the party, and she was torn between her duty as Lucifer’s only child…and the dark desires Alastor stoked within her. 

Another step towards her, so slow that her heartbeat grew painful in her chest. 

He was doing this on purpose, he always was. 

“You seem conflicted, my dear,” Alastor observed, now mere feet away. “Having second thoughts?”

 “Never.” Charlie shook her head, blonde curls bouncing.

The shadows around Alastor’s form pulsed with demonic energy. She blinked, and he was gone. Vanished right before her eyes. 

Charlie called his name as she pushed herself up from the looking glass behind her, staring around the shadows of the room, waiting for him to make another dramatic entrance—as if one just wasn’t enough for him. 

“Do you always have to be so theatrical?” She huffed, despite the shivers of anticipation building along her skin. 

“Yes, darling, remember who you are speaking to.” His voice answered from nowhere and everywhere, like it was coming from the very stones of the castle. She felt a presence right behind her. Charlie barely had time to turn, as Alastor materialized from the mirror. 

Charlie gasped as arms wrapped fully around her. His chest pressed flush against her back, the cool black porcelain of his masked pushed against her ear. 

His heated breath spilled through the mess between the golden fangs—a delicious contrast that had her trembling in his arms. 

“This show has only just begun.” 

Alastor twirled the Princess towards her mirror, making her grab the frame to steady herself. 

Charlie stared at their reflections in the polished glass. Her rumpled white dress and tousled blonde curls were another gorgeous contrast to his perfectly composed silk and satin.

His eyes gleamed bright and scarlet above his smiling mask. 

“Al…” she began, but the whine caught in her throat. Desire quickly drowning the nagging voice of caution in the back of her mind. 

“Darling…” he whispered back, already overwhelming her senses with his pure proximity, let alone his purr. “Now, where were we…before those angels downstairs so rudely interrupted?” 

His chuckle was filled with dark promises that made Charlie’s thighs press together. 

Just as she felt something sliding its way up her ankles.

In the mirror’s reflection, she saw the shadows—his shadows gathering around the golden hem of her ballgown, delving under her skirts, and caressing up along her thighs. 

“Angel Dust—” 

Alastor’s hand pressed against her chest, pushing her back into his own, his black and red claws a vicious sight against the delicate bodice of her gown and the fragile skin of her throat. 

“—will kill you, if you rip this dress like you ripped my breeches.” Charlie tried to warn, but even in her own ears it came out like a desperate keen. His shadow tentacle had found what they were seeking—and were already stoking the heat between her legs. Nuzzling their way through her folds and gathering her arousal. 

All the chiffon and silk of Angel’s creation had been no match for Alastor’s wandering, tenebrous touch. Let alone her undergarments. 

Not in the ballroom, and certainly not in the Princess’s bedroom. 

“He can try to kill me all he likes,” Alastor chuckled, his breath spilling back over Charlie’s collar bones as his scarlet nails scratched lightly at her skin. “Many a man has tried and failed. ” 

She pressed back into his hold, soaking in that damn cocky confidence Alastor exuded. Wanting him to consume her. Charlie could hear the smirk on his lips as his shadowy tentacle finally, finally slipped back inside her. 

A gasp was pulled from her lips. But his eye gleamed a a dazzling ruby in the dark over her shoulder as she clutched to his arms. Another dark appendage flicked teasingly slow at her clit. 

Charlie writhed in Alastor’s hold. 

He already had her so damn worked up, why bother teasing now? Didn’t he already have her?

“Why so silent?” He purred at her ear, his arms tightening their hold around her torso. “If you’d kept this quiet before, we could have finished playing downstairs.” 

Charlie’s head bowed under the ministrations of the two tentacles under her skirt, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she trembled in his arms. It felt so good. Being so…possessed by him like this. 

“Those dancing fools in your court never would have—”

“Alastor.” His name on her lips was tinged with protest. 

 She didn’t want to think about the visitors from the Kingdom of Heaven or the Goetia and their schemings. Charlie didn’t want to think at all. 

“Ah, should I help you focus on the present, dearest?”

Before Charlie could snark back an answer at Alastor, she felt another tendril of darkness slide up her legs, slick and cool against the gooseflesh erupting along her thighs. The tip pressed deftly against her furled ring of muscle, thinning before it slid into her ass. 

The Princess let out a sound of sheer bliss as her body bowed forward into the mirror. 

Alastor’s eyes were a radiant glow in the dark, glinting with an unholy hunger and pride as he watched her brace her hands on the mirror and give herself over to the feeling of being so utterly owned by the Radio Demon. The thrill he dragged from her with every push and pull of his shadows. 

Charlie was vaguely aware of fingers coming to clasp around her wrists, moving her bracing hands off of the looking glass, and onto the heavier ornate frame. 

“That’s a good girl,” Alastor praised her, nearly making her tumble over the edge then and there. 

She was his. He was hers. And nothing could change that. 

Alastor’s long fingered hand curled under Charlie’s chin, lifting her head up sharply. “Look at your face in the mirror.” He commanded her, voice low and seductive in her ear. 

Her eyes flew open, meeting her own completely debauched reflection. Charlie could see her own bitten lips, her cheeks flushed, and her gaze hazy with all he was doing to her. 

“How beautiful you are, ” Alastor praised in a purr. “Like a Princess—thoroughly ravished by her shadow demon.”

Charlie couldn’t deny it. There’s something about being taken by Alastor like this, about being completely at his mercy, that made her feel more alive than anything else. 

“You belong to me, as I do to you.” 

She leaned back against him, giving herself over to him. She trusted him, trusted him to take care of her, to protect her, and to give her the pleasure she craved. 

His hands pressed hers into the frame of the mirror, his fingers long and wicked and threaded through her pale grasp. 

As his shadows lifted her skirts before the mirror. Baring Charlie and what his dark powers were doing to her before his gaze. His scarlet eyes left a burning trail along every inch of exposed flesh, like she could feel their caress. The demon’s body shuddered against her back. 

Charlie gasped out Alastor’s name as he tightened his grip around her, plunging his shadows deeper into her—until she was lost in the feeling of him. And the bliss he drew from her with a sigh. 

-----{--(@

“Al…please.” Charlie whined as he shifted, wrapping his arms around her middle as his shadows stilled, just keeping herself upright against the mirror. 

“So impatient, little love?” Alastor’s heated breath tutted through his mask and tickled against her ear. “Please what?”

Charlie reached behind herself in the mirror, her fingers finding the fangs…and the lips of the smiling mask that Alastor wore. 

His body froze against her back. 

“A creature as beautiful as you should never see something so hideous.” Alastor murmured, his voice low and rougher than she was used to hearing it. “You do not know what you are asking for.”

“That’s all I ask of you.” Charlie asked in her softest and sweetest voice as her fingers curled into the edges of the porcelain. “To know all of you.” 

His breaths hesitated at her neck, but she knew Alastor was considering. Because even she knew that the Radio Demon had trouble resisting the Princess. He would do anything for her. 

“Please,” she said again, her voice a little stronger. “I want to feel your lips on mine again.” 

Alastor shivered behind her. 

And the deepest darkness fell over Charlie’s eyes. 

But she knew she’d won, as she always did, when she heard the clasps of the mask come undone at her ear. He’d wrapped one of his shadowy tentacles around her eyes, but still, he’d given in to her, as he always did. 

Even if he acquiesced with a growl. 

Then Alastor’s lips were on her neck, the edge of his razor-sharp teeth against her skin. His lips gentle as ever along her neck. 

Charlie couldn’t see him. He hadn’t allowed that yet, but she could feel him. She reached for him blindly, her fingers brushing his cheek. 

He flinched at her touch. 

His skin was rougher than Charlie expected, like old wounds marred his face near the hard line of his teeth. 

“Why would you want to know the face of a monster?” 

He asked, his voice low and husky. His breath fanned against her ear, sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through her veins.

 There was hesitation on Alastor’s breath, but Charlie didn’t care that he was disfigured. 

“Because you’re the man I love,” she replied, her voice steady and sure. “And I want to kiss every inch of you.”

She threw her arms around his sharp shoulders and kissed him, anyway.

Passion and possession. 

The softness of her lips against scars she could feel carved into his face, and what she thought were stitches criss-crossing his mouth. 

She pulled him closer, pressing her lips to his and tasting the dark sweetness that was uniquely Alastor. Charlie kissed him harder until she felt Alastor groan. And his fingers tangled into her blonde hair. 

His body pressed hers back into the cool glass of the mirror, his long-fingered hands roaming her body with a new fervor. As she felt his dark powers lifting the skirts of her ballgown. 

“Please Alastor.” Charlie murmured against his lips, tugging at the lapels of his coat and feeling the texture of the lace under her palms. “Haven’t you kept me waiting long enough?”

A dark chuckle rumbled out of his throat. “I suppose that I have.” 

Alastor needed no further encouragement.

Charlie felt it in her stomach the instant his shadows lifted her up from the marble floor of her bedroom, peeling back the miles of rich fabric, thrilling her as he exposed her to the cool night air of the room. 

“Darling girl.” Alastor purred, his lips against her cheek, his growl in her ear as his body pressed against hers. “How could I ever deny you anything?”

The tip of his cock was just brushing, teasingly, agonizingly against her slick entrance. Charlie groaned out her impatience, trying to pull him forward by the lace of his coat.

 “So impatient.” Alastor chided in that teasing tone of his. 

Her brows wrinkled against the dark tendril still covering her eyes, opening her mouth to verbalize her protest—when he finally slid inside of her with a slow, deliberate thrust. 

Filling her completely, claiming her as his own. 

He pinned her back to the mirror as his body moved into hers, and she tried to meet his every movement. Her fingers buried in the scarlet red hair, kissing lips she could not see. But, she could feel everything. Every thrust of his cock, the way his perfectly tailored clothes stretched over taught muscles, the way his shadows moved over her body, playing her like an instrument under his capable hands. 

And the way that Alastor’s lips moved with hers as he whispered his sweet and sinister praises into her skin. 

In that blessed, blissful moment, he was hers, and she was only his. And nothing else mattered.

 No Kingdoms of Heaven and Hell. 

No angels and demons ready to war just outside their door. 

No other man trying to steal her hand away. 

Charlie let her head fall back, thudding against the mirror as she clenched down on Alastor’s cock in purest pleasure. Clutching to him as he filled her with a rough, harmonic hum into her ear. 

Alastor’s thin lips pressed tender kisses along her face and neck as their panting breaths mingled and slowed. 

Slowly, he pulled from her, pulling away, and the Princess felt the pang of loss the moment she was empty. 

Charlie cupped his face to his, knowing what would come before he uncovered her eyes, and trying to prolonge the moment for as long as Alastor would allow. The Princess got one last kiss against her Radio Demon’s scarred lips, before he set her back on her feet. 

And she heard his mask slide back into place. 

Charlie blinked as the darkness fell from her eyes. Even her dimly lit chambers seemed bright compared to his dark powers. 

“Al,” Charlie sighed, content but with a bittersweet tinge as the mask was back in place.

Alastor’s burning red eyes had calmed, and his hands seemed fixated on fixing her dress. Smoothing her skirts and adjusting her bodice. 

Though, when she reached for him, he let her fingers slide through his hair. And didn’t flinch away from her hand being so close to his mask. 

“Alastor.” Charlie nudged him gently. 

“They’ll be missing you from the party.” He murmured, his attention on lacing up her corset properly, though he never pulled them too tightly. 

Charlie’s eyes went wide with shock, looking around at herself, before finally taking a second to look in the mirror. 

She was a mess. Her hair was fallen from its curls and she was now sporting several love bites across her pale skin. Charlie put her hands on her hips, looking over her shoulder at the tall, dark, and still perfectly composed scarlet tinged figure. 

“You’re not seriously going to make me go back out there.” 

And she heard a chuckle from his throat. 

“You know well I could hardly make you do anything.” Alastor drew a hand through his hair, his ears flattening for a moment. “I shall send word to Husker that you’ve fallen ill for the night, shall I?”

Charlie’s scowl was replaced with a smile. “You shall. And if I’m feeling so faint, you should take me to bed.” 

His head turned sharply towards her before he gave a roll of his scarlet eyes. 

The Radio Demon inclined his head and gave a bow. “If my lady commands it.” 

Charlie was caught up in a fit of giggles as shadows swept her up into Alastor’s arms, his low chuckles joining her laugh as his tentacles parted the crimson curtains around her bed. 

Alastor deposited Charlie tenderly in the middle of her plush pile of pillows and comforters, kneeling beside her as he sank into the bed. 

“Won’t you stay?” 

Charlie asked him, grabbing for the front of his suit. 

She saw the hesitation in his eyes even as the mask gleamed its everpresent smile. 

“Princess…” He began, in that tone that told her he was trying to reason with her, that already brought the pout to her royal lips. “There are…esteemed guests in the castle tonight. I should keep an eye out.” 

“Tell me you do not have a shadowy eye on every angel that steps over the threshold of Morningstar castle.” Charlie grinned. 

And Alastor sighed. “Very well, you win.” 

“I always do.” The Princess smirked, settling against him. Happy to have her Radio Demon at her side for one more night. 

-------{--(@

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts is a romantasy inspired by the Phantom of the Opera…with a happy, throuple ever after ending~

You can find it updating weekly on Ao3. 

[featheredenby]

Conspiracies, Colors, And Chickens-Wait What?!?

“It’s not like the news is any help either as all that’s happening is people talking about conspiracies.”

Written by: FeatheredEnby

Word Count: 1,436

Part Five of: Show Your Fangs

A Superhero AU of Empires SMP/Hermitcraft/The Life Series

It’s been a month since the incident and Grian has been avoiding Hotguy since, it’s not like he would know that he’s the one who almost killed him as he hasn’t been going out as Cuteguy but whenever he sees Hotguy he starts to feel guilty. It’s not like the news is any help either as all that’s happening is people talking about conspiracies. But as they say, you can’t run away from your fears forever so he doesn’t plan on doing so, at least not exactly. You see he could go out as Cuteguy and track Hotguy down but that would be too much so he’s going with a chicken mask on along with a cloak and pants that he made with Scott’s help. So maybe he can reforge a bond with Hotguy and maybe get things back to the way they used to be.

-

A month ago Scar almost died after getting knocked out by flying rubble from when he blew up a cave, he of course blew up that cave after Cuteguy had gotten possessed and attacked him. He didn’t blame Cuteguy but he did miss him as he hadn’t seen Cuteguy in a month and he hated to admit it but it made him sad. Of course they played different roles and Cuteguy didn’t support the government that Scar worked for but he would still say that they had been friends. Maybe Cuteguy didn’t feel that way though as when Scar had regained consciousness he saw him crying but as soon as he asked what was wrong Cuteguy had left. At least he still had Grian and the GFHA members to hang out with. And if the rumors were true Cleo would be hosting a masquerade party soon of course a slow dance would be awkward given his wheelchair or crutches and the fact that he’s aroace but it would help him to take his mind off of things.

-

As Scott lept from roof to roof he carried a note with him in a small bag on his hip. Why couldn’t the stupid chicken deliver the note himself or have one of the birds he can talk to do it. But like it or not he was doing favors for the other vigilantes in the cities around Empires City. As he lands on the next roof he sees the person that he’s been looking for, Hotguy. Now Scott the best way to approach the situation as he doesn’t want to get shot but needs to deliver the letter, he should just use an illusion to get Hotguy’s attention so he does creating an illusion that says,”Turn around but don’t do anything rash.” As he turns around Scott notices that he seems sad but doesn’t question it.

“Hello there Hotguy,” he greets,”I’m doing some favors for some others in this and the surrounding cities. One person wanted me to give you this letter.”

As Scott holds it out he notices a slight tremor in Hotguy’s hand but once again doesn’t question it. Hotguy takes the envelope and opens it only for a strange look to appear on his face.

“Well that’s it, have a nice day.” Scott says before using his powers to create the illusion of him disappearing into a wisp of color.

-

Cromia better have gotten that letter right otherwise Grian will find him and rip him to shreds. It’s just a letter to Hotguy that’s asking him to meet Grian, or Poultry Man according to the letter, on his apartment roof, well it didn’t say that it’s Grian’s apartment that would give him away. So Grian sits on the roof waiting with his recently unbleached wings drying in the wind and considers if this is really a good idea as Hotguy won’t know that it’s him but Grian will. Plus this is only the second time that he’s been out in this outfit and Hotguy wasn't there when he was. It had been three in the morning and Grian couldn’t sleep so he had snuck out of him and Scar’s apartment dressed in new costume only to fly around and eventually spot none other than The Faker trying to break into a nearby engineering school. He had of course taken care of that and carefully entered his apartment.  At this point Grian is pretty sure that Hotguy won’t show up as he has been waiting for hours so he stands up to leave when a familiar voice comes from behind him, “I got your letter from Cromia. But I still have no idea who you’re supposed to be.”

As Grian turns around he starts to speak,”Hello there Hotguy, my name is Poultry Mann. I have quite wanted to meet you.”

“I’m sorry but who are you?” Hotguy asks,”I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

“You know how it was all on the news that they found The Faker tied up outside of that engineering school?” 

“Uh… Yes?”

“Yeah, that was kinda me.” Grian admits.

“Okay but why did you want to meet me of all people in this city?”

“You know, just curious… anyways I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna be around and would prefer if you don’t arrest me.”

“Okay? But being a vigilante is illegal,” Hotguy says,”so I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”

“I think you’ll figure it out.” Grian says with a glint in his eyes.

“You… concern me.”

“Yep, I get that alot.”

-

“Well that’s it, have a nice day.” Cromia had said before disappearing into a wisp of color.

“I think you’ll figure it out.” Poultry Man had responded with a glint in his eyes.

“You… concern me.” Scar had replied.

“Yep, I get that alot.” He had said before leaving.

It wasn’t that Scar had found it hard to believe that Cromia had been doing favors for the other vigilantes in the surrounding cities or that there was a new vigilante that had wanted to meet with him. It’s that the hand writing in the letter was so familiar as it looked almost just like Grian’s. It was incredibly unlikely that it was Grian though as all of the times that heroes are out he’s back at their apartment or at work so Scar rules that idea out. After meeting “Poultry Man”, as the vigilante had called himself, Scar just felt confused, after all when Poultry Man had said that he was curious he had seemed concerned. It was probably no big deal or Scar once again reading too far into things.

Standing up from where he is sitting still on his roof, Scar prepares to walk back over to the headquarters of the GFHA since not much is happening in this part of the city until he sees someone slinking through an alleyway and over to him and Grian’s apartment. That couldn’t be good. Scar jumps down from the roof onto the ground from where he then runs over to the same alley only to see the figure disappearing around a building. Quickly chasing after the figure Scar corners them in an alley with a dead end before they mumble something and… vanish? That’s concerning so he heads back to their apartment to check and finds the person standing by the mailbox and once again they disappear but this time there’s a paper left in their place. Scar picks it up to find that it’s an invite to a party, a masquerade party that was being held at Cleo’s cafe. So that figure was likely Cleo and they specifically wanted Hotguy to go interesting.

-

The meeting had gone surprisingly well in Grian’s opinion, as Hotguy hadn’t realized who he was and Grian hadn’t become an emotional mess. Grian was also quite lucky that his job as a reporter gave him information on the ongoings of The GHFA much earlier than most other people. Together these facts meant that Grian could once again make a name for himself and regain a friend that he had thought he lost but first he had to grab the mail from his post box. To say that the collection of letters and news was expected was an understatement, in the post were three separate articles about what had happened to Cuteguy along with an invite for him to go to a masquerade ball at Cleo’s cafe on the Friday after next. In the flier there was also an ad for fifty percent off of costumes at Katherine’s Boutique, well a lot of heavy stuff had happened recently so he should have some fun for a night.

[nova1516]

A Dreadful Hallow’s Eve Ball

A work for lyranova’s 1k event! Congrats! :D @blackclover-emc

I was hesitant to participate, but then I saw so many lovely works that inspired me to do one as well! I took this opportunity to write about one of the side plots/stories of my next generation au!

Next Gens Featured: Felicity Vermillion, Calix Vermillion, Titaia Vermillion(not mine), Acier Silva II, Argent Silva, Adrius Silva, Adeline Silva, Gin Vermillion, Lune Grinberryall(vaguely mentioned)

Canon Characters Featured: Fuegoleon Vermillion, The Salamander, Nozel Silva, Jack The Ripper

(Background) Pairings: Fuegoleon Vermillion/Bridget Oriel || The Salamander, Jack The Ripper/Nozel Silva

Background Information: A short summary of previous events that affect this story: Felicity and Calix Vermillion were originally commoners from Ylve Village. As children their village suffered a great tragedy, burnt to the ground. The two siblings were the only survivors, and they were found by Fuegoleon Vermillion and The Salamander. The couple eventually formally adopted the children of Ylve. Soon after they also take in Titaia, a fire spirit. Recently Felix and Calix find out the tragedy that struck Ylve was no accident, and Felicity wants to desperately avenge their deceased parents.

Summary: Felicity has an opportunity to learn more about Ylve’s tragedy at the annual Hallow’s Eve Masquerade Ball.

Word Count: 3,905

This story is told from various points of view. Enjoy!

Felicity stared at the letter in her hands, and as she reread it she considered burning it, to destroy any evidence it was ever written.

The neat and pretty words promised answers, answers she’d been searching for for months.

Dear Felicity Vermillion,

It shall be on Hallow’s Eve, at the long awaited masquerade ball hosted by the Wizard King, where I’ll be waiting for you. It is your choice to make my acquaintance, but remember well, if you do not meet with me that evening, I shall no longer provide you with the necessary clues to find out the truth about what happened to your birth parents.

I will be waiting at the tallest tower of the castle’s east wing when the clock strikes for midnight. I will be wearing…a lion’s mask. That should be familiar for you, no?

As I promised, if we meet, I shall answer any and every question you might have, in exchange for the pendant your mother left with you.

Best Regards,

C. Y.

“Catalyst Magic: Flames of Ire.”

Felicity watched as the letter burnt to a crisp, leaving nothing behind except for lingering ashes.

She adjusted the strap of her dress, which had slipped from her shoulder, and walked towards her mirror. She scrutinized her appearance harshly, from head to toe. From her (temporary) blonde hair, just as it had been when she was a child, to her long, vermillion dress, and high heels. The garments felt foreign on her skin, but she pushed her discomfort aside.

She needed answers, and she would be getting them tonight.

The young Vermillion grabbed her mask, a gilded, intricate thing, and put it on.

• ☘︎ •

“Hey,” Calix sauntered up to his older sister, a tired Titaia accompanying him. They were both dressed for the occasion. “Tia told me you went back to blonde! Welcome back!”

“Do not get used to it,” Felicity glared at her brother. “I will dye it back after tonight.”

“What? C’mon keep it for a few weeks at least!” He grabbed her hand and then Titaia’s. “Look! We all match now!”

Titaia nodded along with Calix.

“I’m not keeping it blonde, Cal, and don’t look at me like that, Tia.”

Calix sighed regretfully, and Titaia huffed.

“Children, oh—good you’re all ready.” Fuegoleon hurried down to meet the three Vermillions. “We’re late. Let us—Where’s your father?”

Felicity and Calix shared a look before shaking their heads, and when they looked at Titaia, she shrugged.

“Then where—”

“I am ready, Fuegoleon Vermillion.”

The four Vermillions turned to look at the stairs.

The Salamander, Bridget Oriel, stood in a beautiful ivory and jasper orange attire, and was donned in gold jewelry. He looked breathtaking as he made his way down to meet his family.

Fuegoleon couldn’t help the fond smile that made its way to his lips, as he stared at his lovely spouse.

“Beloved little ones,” Bridget smiled brightly. “You all look truly astonishing!” He glanced at Fuegoleon, narrowing his eyes. “Hm, handsome, dereworthy.”

Fuegoleon gave him a (Felicity would describe it as a stupid, lovey-dovey) smile. “And you look as stunning as ever.”

Calix beamed. “You both look phenomenal!”

“Pretty.” Titaia uttered.

Felicity sighed. “Can we leave now?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Little One,” Bridget turned to his daughter. “Are you in a hurry, perhaps?”

Felicity nodded slowly, and quickly thought of an excuse. “I just…I’d like to get there before cousin Adrius finishes off all the good desserts.”

Calix and Titaia went tense.

“We need to leave now.” Titaia nodded along to her brother’s statement.

Felicity hid a smile. It worked, as always.

“Alright, alright,” Fuegoleon herded the two menaces out of the Estate. “Let us leave at once.”

Bridget extended an arm to Felicity, and the young Vermillion hesitated for a second before she took it, and they left to catch up with the rest.

Her family’s ever lively presence took a little weight off of her shoulders. Yet the sense of impending doom grew again, this time overwhelming, as they neared the main Castle.

• ☘︎ •

“That blonde hair might fool all of your suitors, but not me, Felicity.”

Felicity turned around, and came face to face with a young woman. Her fetching silver hair was tied in an elegant, popular braided style, and her dress was dazzling. Her mask, matching in silver tones, obscured her eyes, but there was no room for doubt. This was the renowned, oldest daughter of Nozel Silva and Jack The Ripper.

“Good evening, Acier,” Felicity greeted her cousin. “I’d appreciate it if you lowered your voice. You’re right, the tameless men that chase me relentlessly have yet to recognize me. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Acier let out a short laugh. “Of course,” She whispered, and looped their arms together. “As much as I hate being discreet, I’ll do it for you, dear cousin.”

Felicity shook her head fondly. “What about your suitors?”

Acier groaned. “As irritating as ever.”

“You should’ve taken more advantage of the masquerade ball,” She pulled on a loose, blonde strand of hair. “Like I did.”

“And what? Have my hair dyed blonde?”

The two royals laughed, lighthearted.

“It’s good to see you, albeit a bit different than usual.”

“And after so much time,” Acier said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been so busy I barely see you anymore, Felix.”

Felicity averted her gaze. “I…apologize. I know I haven’t been present enough. I’m just busier than usual.”

Her thoughts wandered back to the letter. She glanced at the clock. It read 11:00pm.

“Calix told me,” Acier sighed. “He said you’ve been trying to figure out what really happened to Ylve Village.”

Against her parents’ wishes.

Fuegoleon had promised to reveal everything in due time, but after finding out they’d been keeping the truth hidden, and after her fight with Calix…she’s been more desperate than ever to get answers. That desperation led her to C.Y. a mysterious figure who happened to know a lot about a village that had burnt down two decades ago. (They’d never met face to face. They’d only ever communicated through letters, initated by C.Y.)

Felicity narrowed her eyes. “Calix…That brother of mine never learned to keep his mouth shut.” She sighed. “Look I understand right now is not the time, and that I shouldn’t be going behind my parents’ back, but—”

“I understand,” Acier offered her a smile. “And I know perfectly well that no matter what I say, you’ll end up doing it anyway, so instead of trying to stop you, I’ll help you.”

Felicity huffed. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t want you, or anyone else, to get involved.”

“I wouldn’t get my hands dirty,” Acier supplied. “At least not that much. I could get you the reports.”

“The reports?”

“If you remember,” Acier subtly gestured to the other side of the ballroom. Felicity followed her line of sight and saw two Magic Knight Captains, away from the crowd, speaking between themselves. “My parents, mostly my dad, handled the case of Ylve long before uncle Fuegoleon even heard of it.”

That’s right. Ylve Village had been under Jack The Ripper’s surveillance months prior to the accident.

“You…have access to those reports?”

“Not currently, but I could get them for you.”

Acier and Felicity straightened up when Nozel noticed them staring. Jack turned to face them next, and laughed upon seeing their stiff postures. He waved at them.

Acier waved back, slowly leading Felicity away. “Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere—”

“Lady Silva!”

“Fuck.”

Ronnald Vitesse, a member of the Silver Eagles(following in his father’s footsteps), approached the two women.

“Ac—Lady Silva, I’ve been looking for you.” He said sheepishly. “Would you do me the honor of letting me have your next dance?”

“Apologies, but I’m busy right now.” She gave him an unimpressed look. “And I’m not interes—”

“She’d love to,” Felicity interrupted her. “I was just about to take my leave.”

Acier glowered. “What.”

“Great!” Ronnald extended an arm out to Acier, which made the latter take a step back.

“Hey, Felix!”

“Sorry,” Felicity scurried away into the crowd.

• ☘︎ •

As gracious, and tempting, as that proposition had been, Felicity would rather not get Acier into trouble with her parents.

Even if it’d be the safer option, to trust Acier rather than a stranger. It was better not to involve her.

Not to mention, she thought it’d be a waste to let C.Y. get away.

Felicity paused in her step when she came across the buffet table.

Calix and Titaia were staring down the last piece of strawberry shortcake, and across from them Adrius and Adeline were also eyeing the treat.

The only dessert Felicity had been looking forward to…

Felicity had to think quickly if she wanted to get that last piece before them.

Glancing around the ballroom she found the perfect solution.

Her cousin, Gin Vermillion, was standing just a few feet away from them, talking idly with one of the Grinberryall girls, and in his hands was a plate full of desserts.

Among them was a strawberry shortcake.

“Catalyst Magic,” She uttered under her breath. “Spatial Magic: Gateway.”

Gin’s grimoire began to glow dimly as Felicity borrowed his magic. In the blink of an eye the last shortcake vanished through a portal, and landed safely in Felicity’s hands.

“What the hell?” Adrius faltered, shoulders slumping.

“My cake!” Calix lamented.

“Gin.” The three of them turned to Titaia.

“That’s right!” Adeline pulled on her brother’s coat. “That portal looked exactly like Gin’s gateways!”

The four of them spotted Gin within seconds.

Felicity suppressed a chuckle as she hurried away with her cake, successfully getting away with it.

Another great distraction from the imminent encounter.

• ☘︎ •

Nozel observed Acier and Felicity conversing, and saw the moment his niece left Acier with Vitesse’s son.

He sighed. “I will be back in a moment,” He met Jack in a kiss when the latter leaned down. “Go help our daughter in the meantime.”

Jack arched an eyebrow, and narrowed his eyes when he noticed Vitesse prattling on to a very uninterested Acier.

The couple parted ways, and Nozel left satisfied when he heard Vitesse shout in surprise.

He walked around the room until he found Fuegoleon. Fortunately, the man was alone, gathering two cups of wine.

“Fuegoleon,” He stopped to stand beside the fire mage.

“Nozel,” Fuegoleon looked surprised to see him. “Good evening, I thought—”

“Have you taken notice that our daughters have been acting strange as of late?”

Fuegoleon paused and faltered, placing the two glasses down.

“Acier and Felicity.” Nozel clarified.

Fuegoleon’s brow furrowed. “Acier too, then?”

“Only recently, and I believe it’s related to your daughter.”

Fuegoleon sighed. “She’s been somewhat distant ever since we had an argument a few months ago.”

“About?”

“Ylve.”

Nozel stiffened. “You told her?”

Fuegoleon shook his head. “Not everything. I gave her and Calix the photograph of Calixtus.”

“I see,” Nozel crossed his arms. “I assume she’s trying to find out the truth on her own?”

“Most likely.”

Nozel glared at him. “Are you going to do anything about it? She could get in trouble, and drag the others with her.”

Fuegoleon took the glasses again and began to walk away. Nozel followed. “Bridget and I have been surveilling her at home, at the base, and Calix and Titaia are looking after her. They would tell me if anything happened. I have it handled, do not worry.”

Would they tell him?

“Perhaps it is time to tell them the truth.” Nozel suggested, keeping up with Fuegoleon’s slightly faster pace.

“If we do so, they will try to get involved with him.”

“Regardless, we should. C—he’s dangerous, but we’re far stronger. It’s why he’s stayed hidden for all these years. He’s as cautious as he’s a coward. But we could find him with Felicity’s Catalyst Magic, and detain him once and for all. She’s old enough to—”

“That’s a theory, and I’d rather not risk her safety for it.”

Nozel walked faster and got in front of his cousin. “For all you know she could be risking her life as we speak. It’s better to take initiative now and help them find justice for Ylve. We cannot let her do this alone—Even if she’s not doing anything now, she will eventually.” Sometimes Felicity reminded him of himself in his youth, and that worried Nozel.

Fuegoleon’s fists clenched around the glasses. He let them go when Nozel took them, and placed them at a silver tray nearby.

“Telling them…it’ll break their hearts.” Fuegoleon finally receded.

“I know.”

“Let’s tell them tonight. I will speak with Bridget.”

Nozel nodded. “I’ll tell Jack—”

“Gin Vermillion!”

Fuegoleon and Nozel watched as their respective children, being led by Adrius, marched up to their younger cousin, demanding a…dessert?

“Adrius…” Nozel sighed, exasperated.

Fuegoleon let out a short laugh, the tension slowly leaving his frame. “We should defuse the situation before it escalates.”

“Agreed.”

The two captains made their way across the ballroom, heading straight for the young royals. Suddenly a man from the crowd got in their way, and they bumped into each other.

“Apologies, sir.”

“Watch where you’re going.”

The man smiled, and placed a hand over his chest. “My sincerest apologies, Fuegoleon Vermillion, Nozel Silva.” He was tall, almost as tall as Jack, and he wore an expensive suit, coupled with a lion mask that covered the majority of his face, making most of his features indiscernible. “This lowly servant never meant to intervene.”

“It’s quite alright,” Fuegoleon assured him. “Do not fret.”

However, Nozel was struck with sudden familiarity. “Have we met before?”

The man only tilted his head sideways. “I think I would remember if I met a member of the royal court,” He laughed. “I’m just a servant of this lovely palace, that’s probably where you’ve seen me.”

Nozel wanted to ask him to take off his mask, but apparently it was a rule that no one could. Ridiculous.

He didn’t care enough to follow it.

“Take of—”

“I told you! I took this from the table. I did not use a portal!” Gin shouted, distracting Nozel for an instance, and that’s all it took for the mysterious man to disappear back into the crowd.

“Damn it.”

• ☘︎ •

11:45pm.

Felicity paced back and forth between the darkened halls near the entrance of the East Wing. She could still vaguely make out the commotion of the ball downstairs, and that did nothing to calm her racing thoughts.

She was going against direct orders from her parents, and they were just a few rooms away. Moreover, Acier had given her a way out of this meeting. Her cousin could get her the reports, and she wouldn’t need to meet C.Y.

Yet.

She couldn’t let this person get away. They knew too much about Ylve Village. Even if she could obtain answers elsewhere, she needed to meet this person.

He knew her late mother personally, and wanted her pendant.

She needed to know why.

The next passing minutes felt torturously slow.

• ☘︎ •

Bridget huffed. Fuegoleon had either gotten sidetracked or had completely forgotten about their drinks.

“Hey, uncle,”

Bridget brightened up when Argent Silva sat next to him at the Vermillion’s table. “Good evening, poppet.”

Argent nodded and leaned back on his chair.

…

Bridget decided to tease him when he remained quiet for too long. “Wouldn’t you prefer to fraternize with your peers, rather than to accompany an old spirit such as myself?”

“Everyone else is busy, and,” Argent averted his gaze, as a subtle blush rose to his cheeks. “You’re good company, so.”

Bridget felt his heart melt, impossible for a being such as himself, but Argent Silva rarely ever showed an ounce of emotion, and it was being directed at him! He grinned and gently tousled Argent’s hair. “You are great company as well, little one.”

Argent grumbled when his uncle’s claws left his hair messy, but didn’t protest further.

“Gin Vermillion!”

Upon hearing his brother’s voice Argent turned around, and sighed. “…And there they are.”

Bridget looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of his partner and Nozel Silva heading towards the commotion. Abruptly a man, donning a golden lion mask, ran into them.

Bridget frowned. There was something oddly familiar about that man. Yet the fire spirit could not decipher what it was, being a considerably far distance away.

“I told you! I took this from the table. I did not use a portal!”

The man in the lion mask passed unnoticed by the two captains, and just before disappearing into the crowd, looked at the fire spirit straight in the eyes and smiled. As soon as he vanished, his entire presence did as well, as if he never existed.

Bridget stood up. “Argent Silva, go to your father.”

Argent stiffened at the use of his full name, and scanned the ballroom, trying to find whatever it was that alarmed his uncle. “What?”

“I shall not repeat myself. Go, right this instance.”

Argent nodded slowly, and wasted no more time, leaving promptly.

Bridget observed the entirety of the ballroom, and started making a mental checklist, making sure everyone was present and accounted for.

His nieces and nephews were all clustered in the same part of the room, and his children too. His children.

Titaia and Calix, (mainly, only Calix) were now speaking calmly with Adrius and Adeline. Next to them Fuegoleon and Nozel were attending to an anxious Argent. And…

Looking around, he was able to find Acier with her other father.

And.

And…

He marched along the edges and corners of the ballroom, sifting through every crowd, every table, every spot in the dance floor, and yet he could not find…

Bridget stopped in his tracks. He needed to calm down and think rationally. He inhaled, then exhaled, involuntarily letting out a puff of steam. He only needed to find Felicity’s mana and he’d find her.

…

…

…

…

…

The clock struck for twelve.

Felicity held her mother’s pendant tight in her grip as she climbed the staircase of the tallest tower. Oddly, the torches that were lined along the walls were all long extinguished, and, although it was faint, her magic picked up traces of a spell. Her grimoire was thrumming, sensing this unknown magic. It wanted to absorb it and use it as its own—make it its own. Felicity pushed down the feeling as she finally reached the top.

The tower, like the way up, was dark, and as she examined the room she found she was the only person inside. However, the spell now felt overwhelming. Yet she could not sense a single person nearby.

Had C.Y. bailed on her? But if that was the case then what was it with this spell? Was he running late?

“Remarkable.”

Felicity felt a chill run down her spine at the sudden, unexpected voice. She turned around and saw a man in elegant attire, wearing a lion’s mask.

When had he arrived? She hadn’t heard or sensed him at all.

“You’re,” Felicity scrutinized him. “C.Y.”

C.Y. smiled, and the mere, seemingly innocent, action unsettled her greatly. It felt somehow sinister. “That’s right.”

Felicity held out the necklace. “I’m not going to stall. Here’s the pendant. I want answers.”

The masked man tilted his head to the side and hummed. “Take off your mask first.”

“What?”

“How can I be certain it’s you, Felicity Vermillion?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes. “Fine, but if I do so, you’ll take yours off as well.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, but then laughed. “Very well.”

Felicity discarded her mask and let it fall to the ground. As soon as C.Y. took in the sight of the royal, his smile finally faded away. “Your turn.” She prepared a spell in the back of her mind, one of Acier’s. They were fast and deadly, fitting if the man decided to cross her.

“I suppose now is the best time to tell you my name.” He took the strap of his mask and began to untie it. “C.Y. is short for,” He unclasped the final hook, and the lion mask fell to the floor, next to Felicity’s.

Felicity’s heart sank to her stomach, and her mouth went dry. “You’re—” Her eyes widened as they welled up with tears. She brought the pendant up to her chest.

“Calixtus of Ylve.”

A dead man walking.

Her mother’s younger brother. Her supposedly deceased uncle.

• ☘︎ •

Years ago.

Fuegoleon watched as the children played with Bridget, Adrius and Acier. The fire spirit had Calix on his back as he chased the rest of the kids. Adrius was leading his sister and cousins all around the garden, shouting and laughing.

The peaceful scene was interrupted when Nozel and Jack arrived.

The children cheered when they noticed Argent in his father’s arms. Nozel set down his youngest and watched as he ran to play with Bridget and kids.

“We were able to track down the person who caused the fires of Ylve,” Nozel started, sitting down next to his cousin. His husband remained standing, arms crossed. “However, he managed to escape.”

Fuegoleon clenched his fists. This was the third time he’d escaped.

“Keh, he was working with Katherine Poizot. They both got away.”

“Poizot?”

“Gueldre Poizot’s cousin.” Nozel supplied. “She has permeation magic as well.”

Fuegoleon nodded. That would make sense, and it cleared up a lot of his doubts.

“There’s something else.”

Fuegoleon raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“We know who he is.” Nozel took out a photograph out of his pouch. “Calixtus of Ylve.”

Fuegoleon’s eyes widened. “That’s—”

“Your kids’ uncle.” Jack said, finally taking a seat next to Nozel. “Apparently he and Poizot had been worshiping some ‘greater being’ that required a sacrifice. That sacrifice was Ylve.”

“We still don’t have all the details, or why he let the children survive, but….”

• ☘︎ •

Fuegoleon came back to the present when Argent approached them. He tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but his mind kept wandering back to that moment.

Tonight they would reveal the truth about Calixtus to the children, and utterly ruin the image of Felix and Calix’s beloved uncle. That man deserved their resentment. However, learning the truth would devastate them. They loved their uncle, or at least, the image they had of him.

“Uncle Fuegoleon?” Argent was glaring at him now. “Are you listening?”

“Fuegoleon.” Nozel urged him to answer.

“I apologize, I was not…” Fuegoleon sighed. “Argent, what happened?”

Argent frowned, very obviously upset. “Uncle Bridget! He was acting strange. I’m worried.”

“Bridget?” Fuegoleon tried to seek him out at their table, but found he was gone. “Where’s—”

“I don’t know! But you’re his host. Can you not locate him?” His nephew sounded desperate.

Fuegoleon placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. I’ll handle this.” Argent nodded and stepped back, moving to stand beside Nozel.

Fuegoleon tapped into the bond he shared with his beloved.

Bridget, what’s wrong? Are you—

Fuegoleon Vermillion, I cannot find—I cannot even sense our daughter.

The clock struck for twelve.

Fuegoleon snapped his head toward his children.

Calix and Titaia were still talking with their cousins, but paused when they noticed their father’s worried expression.

“Father?” Calix moved to be closer to Fuegoleon.

Fuegoleon grabbed him by his shoulders, as gently as he could. “Where is Felicity?”

End?

This story is open to interactions!

Thank you for reading <3

Bridget Oriel is an interpretation of The Salamander and Titaia is not my original character. They belong to @t-f-t & @funky-sea-cryptid

[crisiscutie]

Incorrect Dissidia Sephiroth/Dissidia Darling Quotes

*When he's about to forcibly reclaim his doll*

Sephiroth: So, where's your new "friends"?

Darling: Uh, they couldn't come. They died...

Sephiroth: Then who's that? *Points to the Warriors of Materia behind her*

Darling: *screams*

Aerith: We're ready to protect you, Darling! 😃

[astronomical-bagel]

i think in a mlp au Grian's cutiemark would look like a stick of dynamite paired with some wings or smth and when he dresses as Ariana Griande she would put a sticker/makeup or smth to make it look like a microphone with wings (to hide her identity) and when anyone points out to Grian like 'hey look at Griande's cutiemark doesn't it kinda look like yours ahaha' he would kinda roll his eyes and go "suureee. because i masquerade as a pop star in my spare time. yup , that sounds like me." completely deadpan and absolutely no one would be suspicious of him /gen. its literally a foolproof plan.

[m-for-musings]

Ashes to Ashes

Pt.1

A Baldur's Masquerade (BG3 X VTM) AU, based in the 5th edition of Vampire: The Masquerade TTRPG.

Completely inspired by @ryttu3k

Dividers by @marquisedegramont

Astarion adjusted the lapels of his coat, his reflection in the cracked mirror showing only an elegant void where his features should be. It was a pity; he had always liked looking at himself. The candlelight flickered, casting a ghostly dance of shadows across the worn wooden floor of his quarters. It suited the house of a Hecata — elegant, ancient, and decaying, much like the Szarr family itself.

His thoughts, however, were not on the cracked mirrors or the crumbling walls. They were on Cazador, his sire, who had once again sent him on an errand that seemed beneath even the lowest of the Duskborn. Couldn't he had sent one of the other six thin-blood lackeys he had under his wing? Nonetheless, at least he'd have some time outside of the mansion.

Astarion ran his fingers over the soft, velvet fabric of his coat one more time before turning away from the mirror. No point in mourning what couldn't be changed. The mansion was a labyrinth of dark corridors, lined with dusty portraits of the Szarr family and their many lost heirs. Each step echoed lightly on the cracked marble, the sound hollow in the otherwise silent house. He could hear the distant murmurs of the other thin-bloods, tucked away in their corners, likely plotting their own pitiful schemes. Not that they’d get far. Cazador had them all tightly wrapped around his cold, skeletal fingers.

As he descended the grand staircase, the scent of old parchment, dried blood, and decaying flowers filled his nostrils. It was the familiar smell of home. A home that reeked of death. He passed through the main hall where heavy curtains shrouded the windows in perpetual gloom. Sunlight, if it dared peek through the cracks, was but a distant dream here.

"Off on another errand, Astarion?" came a mocking voice from the shadows. Violet, one of the other Duskborns, lounged lazily in a torn armchair near the hearth, a smirk playing on her lips. Her dark eyes gleamed with amusement as she twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. She always seemed too smug for someone just as chained as the rest of them.

Astarion didn’t break stride. "Jealous, are we? Looks like Cazador trusts me more than the rest of you rabble. Don't worry, perhaps one day you'll graduate to fetching his dry cleaning."

Violet laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "Oh, I’m sure. Enjoy your little freedom, Astarion. We both know it’s only a matter of time until you fuck up and end in the kennels again."

He didn’t dignify her with a response, pushing open the front door of the mansion and stepping into the night. The air outside was refreshingly cold, crisp compared to the stifling rot within. For a moment, he let himself enjoy it, the feel of the night breeze on his face, the distant hum of the city below.

The streets stretched out before him, dimly lit by flickering, half-broken street lamps, casting weak pools of light over crumbling sidewalks. The silence was thick, almost suffocating, broken only by the occasional distant siren or rustle of garbage in the alleys. This neighborhood had once been grand — a place of wealth and opulence — but now it had rotted, decayed into a shadow of its former self, much like the Szarr mansion looming behind him. The city, like Astarion himself, wore two faces — one bright and bustling by day, the other dark and treacherous by night. And it was the latter that he thrived in.

As he walked, his steps light on the cobblestones, Astarion found his thoughts drifting back to Cazador. For all his grievances, there was a twisted sense of pride that flickered in his chest, one he loathed to admit. In the early years of his ‘internship’ under Cazador, Astarion had been the least of them — the most despised, the easiest target for Cazador’s wrath. He endured the harshest punishments, the ones designed to break a person from the inside out. The humiliation was relentless, stripping him of every ounce of dignity. But then, after Amanita — Cazador's favourite — disappeared, something shifted. He couldn’t say why, and the change unsettled him. Suddenly, he wasn’t the lowest anymore. The punishments didn’t lessen, but the hate felt… different. He knew that being the new ‘favoured’ Duskborn was a double-edged sword. Yes, it gave him a slight edge over the others, a fleeting sense of superiority — but it also meant he bore the brunt of Cazador’s cruelty. The expectations were higher, and the leash tighter. Every task, even one as menial as tonight’s errand, was both a privilege and a punishment, a reminder that his ‘favour’ came with a price. It was freedom in the smallest of doses, a bitter taste of what he could never truly have.

Astarion let out a breath he didn't need and straightened his coat again, more out of habit than necessity. The night was his. And if he had to endure a chore or two, so be it. After all, freedom — even in the smallest doses — was something he’d learned to savor.

He paused at the gates of the Toreador Primogen’s haven, a stark contrast to the crumbling slums he had just passed through. Mizora’s estate was nestled deep in the Upper City, a gated sanctuary for the elite, where the streets were spotless and even the air seemed fresher. The mansions here, including hers, were grand and flawless — a world apart from the decay of the Szarr mansion, which stood ironically at the very edge, straddling the line between wealth and ruin, separating the opulence of the Upper City from the slums below.

Mizora. Her name tasted bitter, like poison on his tongue. He would never forget that she had been the one leading the charge, advocating for the eradication of all Duskborn in the city. A Toreador more obsessed with ancient tomes and occult rituals than with the shallow vanity most of her clan indulged in. Her library was legendary, even Tremere scholars whispered about it with envy. If Cazador had sent him here, whatever book he sought had to be important.

The task was simple: retrieve a book. Cazador hadn’t bothered to explain its significance, and Astarion hadn’t asked. He didn’t care. Whatever dark magic his sire was dabbling in, it wasn’t his concern — as long as he could avoid becoming a part of it. He was here to do the job, nothing more.

As the door creaked open, Astarion fully expected a servant to greet him. Instead, it was Mizora’s childer who appeared, Wyll Ravengard. Astarion’s lips twitched into a polite smile, masking his surprise.

Wyll stood in the doorway, tall and effortlessly graceful, his dreadlocks tied back loosely, with a few strands framing his striking features. His skin practically glowed with the Blush of Life he always maintained, even when there were no mortals around. His physique, smooth and flawless, as if sculpted by an artist’s hand, was balanced between strength and elegance — Astarion had always been almost painfully aware of it. 

“Ah, Astarion, good evening. You were expected,” Wyll said, his voice warm and polite, his words laced with a warmness that contrasted sharply with how Duskborns were normally greeted in this city. He stepped aside, gesturing for Astarion to enter. “My sire isn’t home at the moment, but she’s left everything in order for you.”

Wyll’s charm was almost disarming, and as he welcomed Astarion into the mansion, it was clear this hospitality wasn’t an act. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable in the lounge. I’ll gather what you’ve come for.”

Astarion gave a small nod, hiding his unease behind a faint smile. He stepped inside, following Wyll through the polished floors and lavish décor. The young Toreador moved like he knew exactly how attractive he was, but there was no arrogance in it. It was so blatantly obvious why Mizora Embraced him, the little Mr. Perfect. 

Astarion desired him. Astarion desired to be him. 

Astarion hated him.

Wyll led the way toward the lounge, trying to make a small talk about how busy his sire was lately, but Astarion wasn't interested, answering the banter with curt nods and practically monossilabic affirmations.

Astarion settled into the lounge, his eyes wandering over the room's modern, clean furnishings. The faint smell of smoke lingered in the air, and his gaze drifted to the unlit fireplace. The logs inside were only half-burnt, the embers smoldering softly as if the fire had been extinguished in a hurry. Ash clung to the edges of the hearth, scattered across the floor as though someone had stamped it out hastily.

Curious, he noticed a few scraps of burnt paper near the fireplace. He crouched down, picking one up between his fingers, examining the charred edges. It seemed to be part of a letter. Most of the writing was unreadable, but a few words caught his eye—"sire," "investigate," and "rewarded."

Astarion raised a brow, piecing together what little he could from the fragmented words. It seemed Wyll had received a proposition, and it probably involved investigating his own sire. Astarion's lips curled into a wicked smile. Oh, this was too delicious. He stood, the paper still between his fingers, his eyes gleaming with devilish delight.

The Toreador’s perfect façade wasn’t so flawless after all, it seemed. And now Astarion had something far more valuable than whatever menial task Cazador had sent him for — leverage.

"Well, well, Wyll," he murmured to himself, a twisted satisfaction creeping into his voice. "It seems you’re not as obedient as you appear. How… delightful."

He tucked the burnt scrap into his coat, his grin widening. This little secret could be the key to bending the ever-polite childer to his will if needed. Blackmail was always a game he enjoyed playing, especially when the stakes were so personal.

Wyll came back, every movement as smooth and poised as a courtier, yet as he entered the lounge, his steps faltered ever so slightly. Astarion stood by the fireplace, one hand resting on the mantel, his gaze too casual, too knowing.

For a brief moment, Wyll’s expression shifted — his uneven eyes flickering to the half-burnt logs and the scattered ash before darting back to Astarion. The unease was barely there, a slight tightening of his jaw, the faintest twitch of his brow. But just as quickly, he composed himself, his face smoothing back into that polite mask he wore so well.

“Astarion,” Wyll greeted, his voice as warm as ever, though a subtle tension lingered beneath it. “I’ve retrieved the book you came for.”

He held it out with both hands, but his gaze lingered on Astarion a moment longer, betraying a flicker of suspicion as the Duskborn reached out, his fingers brushing the leather-bound cover of the book with a deliberate slowness, savoring the moment. His lips curled into a sly grin as he took it from Wyll, practically reveling in the tension radiating off the Toreador.

“Thank you, Wyll,” Astarion purred, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes as he added, “Tell me — how long have you been plotting against your sire?”

The look on Wyll’s face was priceless. His carefully composed mask didn’t crack completely, but Astarion saw the brief widening of his eyes, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly at his sides. For a split second, there was real panic there — then it was gone, replaced by a calm, practiced smile.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Wyll replied, his tone as steady and polite as ever, but Astarion could hear the faint edge beneath it.

Astarion let out a soft, mocking laugh, leaning in just a little closer, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Oh, darling, no need to play coy. I know a secret when I see one.” He tapped the spine of the book with a single finger.

Astarion turned to leave, the book tucked neatly under his arm, and threw a parting glance over his shoulder, his voice dripping with playful malice. "Don't worry, Wyll, I'll keep quiet… for a price."

He barely made it halfway to the door before Wyll was suddenly in front of him, moving with supernatural speed that caught Astarion completely off guard. One moment he was across the room, the next he was standing mere inches away, his previously composed expression twisted into something darker, less controlled.

“Careful, thin-blood,” Wyll hissed, his voice low, dangerous. “You don’t want to tread this path.”

Astarion’s eyes widened for a heartbeat, alarmed by the sheer suddenness of Wyll’s shift in demeanor. His mind raced, but he quickly reminded himself that Wyll wouldn’t dare strike him. Not here, not now. It would be too suspicious, and even Mizora’s childer wouldn’t risk unnecessary tension between the Camarilla and the Hecata. No, Wyll couldn’t touch him — at least, not physically.

Astarion raised his hands slowly in a mock gesture of surrender, the sly grin returning to his face as he masked his brief moment of panic with his usual nastiness. “Easy now,” he drawled, “I didn’t say that to rat you out.” He paused, his grin widening. “I mean, that would be terribly… inconvenient.”

It was a lie, of course. He had fully intended to blackmail Wyll, but now a new idea wormed its way into his mind. One that might just be more interesting than the first.

“Actually,” Astarion mused, tapping a finger against his chin thoughtfully, “perhaps we could help each other instead.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I want the same thing. Perhaps we could work together… in getting rid of our sires, hm?”

He could see the flicker of uncertainty in Wyll’s eyes, and Astarion's grin widened further. Wyll’s eyes narrowed, studying Astarion for a long, tense moment. Astarion could see the calculation flickering behind that perfectly composed face, the uncertainty hidden beneath layers of Toreador poise. For all his outward grace, Wyll was clearly rattled. His shoulders, usually so relaxed and regal, now held a subtle tension.

“This… is a dangerous game,” Wyll finally said, his voice measured, evasive. He wasn’t giving Astarion anything, not yet.

Astarion’s smile didn’t waver, but inside he felt a flicker of frustration. Of course, Wyll wouldn’t jump at the chance to join forces. He was too cautious for that, too concerned with appearances. But the fact that he hadn’t outright dismissed the offer was telling. There was something there — something Astarion could work with.

Still, it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

"Well, I do like a dangerous game," Astarion replied, his voice light, teasing. "Keeps things interesting, don’t you think?" He tilted his head, watching Wyll closely, trying to gauge whether he was leaning toward caution or intrigue.

Wyll’s face gave little away, but the tension in the air was palpable. He was weighing his options, and Astarion could see the doubt flickering in his eyes, as if he was unsure whether to push Astarion away or pull him into the fold.

Astarion wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. "Think about it," he said, his tone almost coaxing now. "We both have something to gain, and our sires have far too much control over us, don’t they?" He leaned in just a fraction, his grin widening. "You know as well as I do that power is best kept in your own hands."

Wyll’s gaze flickered, just for a second. There was something there — an opening, however small. Astarion’s smile sharpened. He’d planted the seed. Now all he had to do was wait for it to grow.

Wyll’s eyes narrowed again, and the corners of his mouth lifted in a slight, knowing smile. "It's a bold statement coming from a Duskborn," he said, the words soft but pointed, as if to remind Astarion exactly where he stood in the grand hierarchy of things.

Astarion’s grin froze, fury boiling just beneath the surface. The audacity of it — being looked down on by someone like Wyll, a Diva's lapdog. But Astarion said nothing, forcing the biting retort back down his throat. Wyll didn’t wait for a reply, his expression remaining as poised as ever. "There's a Sabbat envoy named Karlach," he continued smoothly. "Give me her location. Prove you're capable, and perhaps we can discuss working together."

Astarion felt his fists clench at his sides, anger bubbling to the surface. His eyes flared as he snapped, "I was offering you an alliance, Wyll, not volunteering to be your errand boy. If you think I’m going to run around the city at your beck and call, I might as well give your sire what I've found—"

Wyll cut him off with a scoff, his smile now entirely condescending. "And if you think Mizora would believe you over me... well, you're more deluded than I thought." He crossed his arms, his stance firm. "But if you’re so eager to work with me, then these are my terms. Find Karlach."

Astarion’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. Wyll had him backed into a corner, and as much as he hated it, he knew the Toreador had a point. Mizora wouldn’t take a Duskborn’s word over her own childer’s. Even with a proof that Wyll could dismiss as a refused proposition. Astarion berated himself inwardly for his own recklessness — fortune not always favoured the bold, as it seems.

But he needed this. Needed a way out of Cazador’s grip, and if Wyll was the key to that… well, he would play along. For now.

"Fine," Astarion finally spat, his voice tight with barely contained fury. "I’ll find your Karlach. But this had better be worth it."

Part 2

[radioactive-dazey]

The Kiss

A scene from one of my fics that I may end up scrapping, it was a Prince and the Frog au inspired by the original story. Janus was supposed to be the main character with the twins, logan, and virgil having their own side stories going on. And I think we can all guess who the frog was going to be. (I just have no idea how to fully tackle this idea, but I had this chapter written out for ages and don't want to let it go to waste.)

Important context: Prince Logan is visiting a neighboring kingdom for his older brother Virgil's marriage to Prince Janus. Logan has beef with Prince Janus's younger siblings, Princes Roman and Remus.

To celebrate the marriage, the kingdom is hosting a masquerade ball. Logan attends but stays mostly in the background, and a mysterious stranger grabs his attention.

Pairings: Logince, implied Dukexiety.

CW: Uh technically underaged drinking?? I guess?? Mild swearing? I dont know what counts anymore, if I miss anything major let me know!

Logan watched as Virgil and Janus waltzed across the dancefloor, momentarily adjusting his mask. Roman wasn't anywhere in sight, a fact that Logan was grateful for. He grabbed a glass from the buffet table and took a sip. The drink was bitter in his mouth and he had to choke it down. 

Someone chuckled. "Should you be drinking that?" 

Logan turned. A boy stood on the other side of the buffet table, his arms resting behind his back. Logan didn't need his glasses to know the stranger was handsome. It took him a moment to recognise the blobs of red that leaped off the boy's dress were actually sparkling butterflies. A large silver butterfly wing popped off his mask, red costume diamonds and painted shapes detailing it. Logan was star struck, swirling his glass in his hand before suddenly realizing he was staring. 

"The drinking age is nineteen here, isn't it?" 

"No, it's twenty-one. You're a foreigner?" The stranger's voice was melodic. It made Logan feel warm inside, an unfamiliar sensation filling his chest. He stuttered out a few syllables, suddenly overwhelmed with the way his body was reacting and he tried to smother the feeling. 

"I- Yes, I am. I'm Pr-" 

"Don't tell me your name," the stranger interrupted, waving his hands out as if to stop Logan. "I don't want to know." 

Logan's eyebrow quirked up. "Can I know yours?" 

"No!" He blurted out, and the man's face flushed. "It would be better for the both of us, trust me."

Logan nodded in vague understanding. "I will," he stated, deciding at that moment it wasn't worth trying to pretend he enjoyed his drink. He placed it on a passing servant's tray, his full attention back onto the man in front of him. 

"Are you enjoying the party?" 

"No," he sighed, gently brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. "I was… Encouraged to be present, but frankly I'm trying to avoid someone. There's a million other places I would rather hide at than in a crowded ballroom."

Logan nodded. "I know the feeling. I'm trying to avoid someone as well. I've never been very fond of parties, there's far too many people present and pretending to enjoy their company is exhausting. Not that I don't enjoy yours!" He added the last part quickly, smiling sheepishly. "You may be one of the few pleasant people I've met in this kingdom."

The stranger smiled, and Logan's heart did backflips. 

"Thank you, that's kind of you to say." 

They grew quiet. Logan resisted the urge to ask the stranger to dance. He was a terrible dancer. But still, he didn't want the conversation to die out. 

"Do you want to leave?" 

Logan's head shot up. "Excuse me?" 

"Do you want to leave? The party? I know of an exit that will take us to the gardens." 

Logan smiled and walked around the table, offering his arm for the stranger to take. "Lead the way." 

They stepped out of the ballroom together, Logan struggling to keep pace with the boy as he guided him through the halls. The stranger's heels clicked loudly on the tile and Logan wondered how he could be so quick. He swallowed nervously and fiddled with the buttons on his coat. 

"So, tell me," the stranger began, and Logan was once again entranced by his voice. "Who were you trying to avoid?" 

Logan sighed. "Some boy. He is the most infuriating person I have ever met." 

"How so?" 

"He's very arrogant," Logan started, stumbling slightly. "I've only just met him, but he behaves like I've done something horrible to him." 

"Well, have you?" 

Logan scoffed. "If I did, I wouldn't have the slightest idea what it would be. From the moment I arrived he's behaved as if I spit on him. Unfortunate, really. I had hoped we could have gotten along." 

"He's not worth your time, my dear. Someone as handsome as yourself shouldn't dote after foolish men."

Logan chuckled and stood slightly taller, the mask feeling oddly cool against his warming face. "Handsome?" 

"Truely, has no one told you that before?" The beautiful stranger stepped in front of him, and wow was Logan entranced again. Despite the dim halls, Logan could make out the finer features; freckles peppering over the stranger's shoulders and chest, the green- or maybe hazel- hues in his eyes. The stranger was close enough for Logan to smell his cologne, a smell that instantly sobered him.

He cleared his throat. "The gardens?" 

The boy nodded and resumed his position, half-guiding-half-pulling Logan along. Moments later, they were outside, and the scent of dewy grass and roses overcame the boy's cologne. Logan adjusted his mask as he tried to make out the flora around him. 

"This way," the stranger called, and Logan was suddenly pulled further into the gardens. 

“Wait,” Logan said, suddenly apprehensive about the notion of (quite literally) blindly following the stranger. “Where are we going?” 

The stranger glanced back at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Trust me, just a little further. I promise it’ll be worth it.” 

Logan’s nerves were instantly soothed, and he let the stranger pull him further. They rounded a corner, and suddenly, the stranger pulled him through a gap in the hedges into a secluded alcove. The stranger released Logan’s hand, and they sat together on a stone bench, the full moon gently illuminating the stranger’s face.  

“If I may, my dear?” the stranger asked, a subtle urgency and desire hidden in his voice. Logan nodded.

The stranger gently cupped his face, and as they leaned closer, the lingering scent of roses and cologne engulfed Logan. They locked eyes for a single moment, and then the stranger’s lips were firmly pressed against Logan's. He squeaked, the taste of strawberry lipstick exploding on his mouth, and he melted into the kiss, eagerly reciprocating. 

The stranger pulled away, and hesitantly, he reached out and gently removed Logan's mask. Logan didn't stop him. He was distracted, finally being able to see the gold flecks in the stranger's hazel eyes. 

Suddenly, the stranger gasped, dropping the mask and screwing his face in shock and horror. "Prince Logan?!" He whisper-shouted, covering his mouth and standing from the bench. 

"Yes…? Is there something-" 

The stranger ripped off his mask and threw it onto the ground. Logan paused, eyes squinting and he reached into his pocket and threw on his glasses. The realization hit him like a brick. He stood, covering his own mouth and stepping back. 

"Oh my god," Roman nearly yelled, forcing out a laugh. "You couldn't recognize me. Are you serious?" 

"I wasn't wearing my glasses and you were wearing a mask, what's your excuse?!" Logan spat out. Sudden panic set in and Logan thought he may throw up. 

Roman opened his mouth and gapped at him. He struggled to form words. "You were wearing a mask too!" 

"You can still see far better than I can!" 

Roman scoffed. "Forgive me for getting wrapped up in a beautiful moment! A masquerade ball and a handsome stranger who was brooding in the background the whole night steps out to drink champagne meant for the adults? It was sexy! Sue me!" 

Logan didn't have a moment to point out that they were both technically adults. His fists were shaking violently, rage filling his mind as he began to spat, "You're a dumbass! You should have let me introduce myself, then none of this would have happened." 

"You shouldn't have been flirting with me!" 

"You flirted with me too!" 

"I didn't know it was you!" 

Their argument escalated to yelling. 

"I can't believe you! You've been nothing but antisocial since the moment you set foot into the kingdom. I tried being friendly and charismatic but you've shut me down every time, and you have the gall to call me infuriating? What did I even do to you?" 

"Let's review, you insulted my brother Virgil to my face, mocked me with Prince Remus, and when I tried to be courdal and respectfully tell you to leave me alone, you decided to engage in childish petty pranks and destroy my property." 

"Are you still talking about your stupid book?!" 

Logan thought he may blow a fuse. "Yes!" 

"I already apologized for that. Just get over it!”

His blood boiling, Logan stormed over to Roman and forcefully grabbed his face, crashing his mouth onto his and instantly silencing Roman. Roman moaned and shuddered, and Logan wanted to roll his eyes. 

There was a whistling sound, and Roman shoved Logan away and wiped his mouth, cursing under his breath. His head shot to the hedges. "Remus?!" He whispered-shouted. 

"Hey, don't stop just because I'm here! When clothes started flying I would have left on my own." 

"Gross," Logan and Roman spat out. 

"You guys are the ones with your tongues down each other's throat!" Remus exclaimed. He stepped out of the hedges and jabbed Roman's chest with his elbow. "I'm glad you're seeing now Ro-bro!" 

"Seeing what exactly?" 

"That this family? Hot! Sexy people!" 

"Oh shut UP Remus!" He shoved him away. "He kissed me!" 

Logan's face burned. "You kissed me first!" 

"I REFUSE to repeat this argument again." 

"You guys kissed twice?! Damn it! I need to catch up." Remus looked at Logan, stepping forward slightly. "Heeeey Lolo, do you think Virgil would be interested in a little one-on-one time with me?!" 

"Ask him yourself! He already doesn't want to marry Janus!" 

Logan wanted to smack himself. A look of shock grew on the twins faces as they stared at each other, mouths wide in absolute bewilderment. Virgil was going to kill him. 

"FUCK!" Logan yelled, turning away from Roman and Remus as he processed what he had just revealed. He tugged at his hair, spinning back around on his heels. "You can't tell Janus- OR Virgil for that matter. Pretend I said nothing!" 

"No, no! This is good!" Remus squealed, bouncing on his toes and yanking on Romans arm. "This is the best news I've heard since- ever!" 

"How is this the best news ever?! It's an economic disaster! Your kingdom is struggling and this was supposed to help! Not to mention, if Virgil finds out-" 

"Janus doesn't want to marry Virgil either!" 

Logan snapped his mouth shut. 

Remus squealed, his bouncing turning into full on jumping. "Roman, do you think this means I have a chance with Virgil?! Do you think he and I can start courting?! We'll get married and I'll move kingdoms and-

"You don't even know if he likes you, Remus." 

"We could get that love potion again!" Remus raised his eyebrows and his face screwed up in an unpleasant grin. Logan grumbled and quickly glanced at Roman, who was rolling his eyes at Remus. "Is that meant to be some sort of a joke?" 

"Of course it is. Love potions aren't real, and it didn't work the first time anyway, Remus." 

"Didn't you hear?! Remy and Emile are fucking!" 

Logan sputtered and Roman gasped. 

"Language! Why can't you be mature and say 'having sex?!' Oh what am I talking about- you're lying! I know you are!" 

"Hmm nope! They've done a lot of sneaking around tonight. All the castle staff are talking about it too." 

"You gave my advisor a love potion?!" 

Remus nodded. "Yup! And it worked." 

"That's- preposterous!" 

"Magic doesn't lie." 

"Yeah, but older twin brothers do!" 

Remus shoved Roman, and Roman shoved him back. 

"I swear to whatever fucked up God you believe in, Remus, if you mess up my dress-" 

Remus ignored him and shoved Roman again. Before Roman could return the favor, Remus held him back with an outstretched hand. "Don't worry about it Logan, whether it's real or not, I would never force Virgil to drink it!" 

"Where did you get it?" Logan demanded. 

"Why, planning on giving it to Roman? You already kissed twice, seems a bit unnecessary." 

Logan flushed noticeably. "I want to know where you're getting your information from!" 

"Oh, nowhere in particular. I've just been dabbling in some potion making."  

Roman finally shoved away Remus's hand, and gasped exasperatedly. "He bought it from some crackpot old woman in town. I read the label, it's like some healing crystal, star sign-aligning guru shit. What a waste of money!" 

Remus stuck his tongue out at Roman. "One man's waste of money is another man's love potion. And who are you to say it doesn't really work? Maybe I slipped some in one of your drinks, and THAT'S how I found you guys out here." 

"Oh shut UP Remus!" 

"No thanks, I'm good." 

Remus turned on his heel and parted through the edges with ease. 

“Where are you going Remus?” 

“Back to the party of course! I heard some nasty rumor about one of the princes sneaking off with a stranger. That, and I gotta go find Janus to share what you two disasters were doing.”

“Don't you dare!” 

But there was no response. Roman angrily shook the air in front of him. “Ugh! I cannot stand him sometimes!” 

He took a long drawn out breath, and suddenly his attention was on Logan again. Logan swallowed harshly. 

“We can't tell anyone. It's bad enough that Remus knows. I'll keep my mouth shut, you'll keep yours shut, and we never mention this again.”

“Agreed.”

Logan was about to step out of the hedges when he was suddenly yanked back. His body was spun around and he was face to face with Roman. Logan sighed, and relaxed his muscles slightly.

"Was there something else?" 

"I want to apologize. You're right, I have been behaving rather 'infuriatingly,' as you put it." 

"It's… fine," Logan said after a moment. Wow, Roman was really close to him. "I expect a replacement of my book though, if you don't mind." 

"I think I can make that happen," Roman replied. Just then, he glanced down at Logan's lips, and Logan swallowed harshly. 

"Are you going to kiss me again, or are you teasing me on purpose?" 

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" 

"I wouldn't be opposed to it…" 

Roman leaned in, and Logan closed the gap between them. He inhaled deeply, mildly enjoying how airy and light his chest was feeling. He fought down a smile and leaned into Roman more. 

Then Roman pulled away, and the spell was partially broken. Logan fumbled with his cuffs as he stared into Roman's eyes.

"Two for one," Roman said, booping Logan's nose. "Better catch up, Lolo." 

"Is that a challenge?" 

"It might be," Roman mumbled. He gently shoved past Logan and through the opening in the hedges. "Till tomorrow, and all that." 

He stopped, and turned around. "If I find out you told anyone, I'll gut you like a fish.”

"As if I was going to anyway." 

[ladykailitha]

Just a little continuation of this AU idea. I'll be using their show names for ease of understanding but in the story they would be called what I called them in the previous post.

It all cumulates toward a masquerade ball where everyone is dressed as mythical creatures.

Newly crowned King Steven dresses as the Stratford Lyon. A beast that is that of a red lion with large antlers and tusks, but known for its impressive and wild mane (you know Steve would latch on that like lightning). He dressed all in red with his hair flowing to his shoulders, his mask is red, too. It's a full face mask that is a lion face with tusks and the antlers coming off the top of the mask gracefully blending into his hair.

Eddie is beguiling dressed as Mephistopheles. He's dressed all in black. His mask dark rust red covering his upper lip and horns curling from the top of his mask, like Steve's antlers but his are rams' horns.

Robin is dressed as a Nachtkrapp. She was born in Germany and married off to a French Marquis (multilingual like whoa) so she grew up hearing about the night raven. She wanted to go scary and masculine. She succeeds. :D

Chrissy is an angel, to play up on the queen thinking Steve should pick her and Steve wanting to pick Eddie. Her mask is silver, only covering her eyes. She wears a circlet on her piled up hair making it look like a halo. She wears pure white dress. And she is the only one at the ball who knows that Mephisto is Eddie.

Steve's other candidates for marriage are dressed as Titania, a mermaid, and a Valkyrie, Nancy, Vickie, and Tammy respectively.

The Party is all dressed as mythical creatures. Dustin is a griffin, Will is a unicorn, and Mike is dragon. And is completely pissed when Lucas shows up a wyvern. Lucas points out his wings are his forearms which completely different from the four legged, back-winged dragon Mike is. Dustin wanted to be a griffin because it was like Steve's Stratford Lyon without completely giving it away who is under the mask.

The queen is royally pissed when Jonathan turns up as Oberon signalling that Nancy and he are an item, completely removing her from candidacy.

Eddie dressed up in secret for the ball because as he was stripped of his titles he wasn't allowed to go. But an advisor of Steve's and long time friend of the Munsons, lets Eddie go in his place. Chrissy helps him get clothes and things and stores them in her room. Which he sneaks into after the ball has started and changes.

Hopper helps him sneak around front to go through the front gates as though he's arriving.

Steve is drawn to Eddie, even though he doesn't know it's him. The queen is chewing glass. This was NOT how it was supposed to go.

Eddie tries to sneak back to Chrissy's before the unmasking at midnight, but Steve chases him. He finds out the man he was so attracted to is also the one that makes him laugh, makes him think, makes him a better person.

And they kiss about it.

[boldlyanxious]

Duke and Dash

Accidental Cinderella au

Masterlist

"This is a terrible idea, Alya. We are going to be caught,” Marinette whispered urgently.

Alya turned and looked at her, reaching out she lifted Marinette so her back was straight and lifted her head from under her chin.

“No one will notice the difference. I have to be here if I am to keep up my paper. Everyone who reads me wants to know everything that is happening at the masquerade.”

“But what if we are discovered? What will happen to our parents or to Nino?” Marinette fretted. “How did you even convince him to sneak us in? He just got the job as the minstrel. Surely he will be suspected first.”

Alya’s eyes danced as she responded, “I was able to persuade him.”

“I’m sure you were. I bet there would be a scandal if anyone knew how persuasive you were.”

They silenced their voices as there was a commotion across the room. The crowd was entering and everyone was clamoring for a chance to mingle. This was their opportunity to sneak in without anyone seeing them. Moving quickly, they joined the crowd and no one even noticed them. The crowd was packed too tight for them to see much beyond those near them, but they were not particularly concerned. They were just here so Alya could continue writing about what happened at the ball. The reactions of others were far more important and they would do well to stay away from the guests who wanted attention. There would be too much scrutiny for their ruse to survive.

The conversation was exhausting, if she were honest. She would be content to sit back and admire all the clothing of the rich and powerful people here. She could embellish her dresses as much as she wanted but she could never hope to afford such luxurious fabrics. The fact that she had managed to get ahold of the fabric for this dress was a fluke. Lady Kagami was supposed to go but she was using the opportunity to sneak away. It was why she had commissioned Marinette to make the dress and she had put in a good word for Nino to join the minstrels. She wanted to become a knight but her mother was pushing for her to get married into a good family. The rumor was that the Duke would be returning to find a wife so Lady Tsurugi was determined for her daughter to meet him.

Even with the mask, Marinette felt fully exposed every time someone raised an eyebrow at her response. She didn’t know enough about what she was supposed to say to know what she was even doing wrong. All the conversation to her felt forced but it seemed to be so easy for everyone else. She felt like everyone was watching her because her bright red gown was out of place while the other ladies were all in muted colors that fit nicely with the deep colors the men wore. She stuck out by her attire and her behavior so she moved towards a hallway to escape notice. There was a garden with a paved path and flowers all around. The candles lit a pathway and she followed it, breathing in the fragrant aroma. She had always wanted to visit this garden but it was off limits to her.

She was alone for several minutes before a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned suddenly, panicking at the intrusion. She had heard no footsteps but before her was a man all in black. His mask stuck out from his face bringing his eyes into focus but surrounded by sharp points like the wings of a bat. It was so different from her soft mask that laid against her face. The red of the mask matched her dress and the black lace pattern on the edge matched the lace that formed the ladybug spots across the dress. The delicate gauzy material that formed split cape wings from her shoulders was also used to make a hair piece that formed antennae above her head. The look was finished with long black gloves that nearly touched the loose off the shoulder sleeves.

“I didn’t expect to find anyone else out here,” his voice was soft and deep.

“Oh,” she said, stepping back. She hadn’t expected him to be so tall. “I could leave. I just needed a moment alone and it was so lovely.”

“It seems that a ladybug is in the natural spot surrounded by flowers.”

“I suppose that is true, but the night gives way for the right of bats to have territory.”

“That is also true. If we both have the right then I suppose we both may stay here.”

She stepped away and sat on a nearby bench.

“I appreciate that. I enjoy the quiet here.”

It could have been awkward. Maybe even should have been but it was nice. Marinette slipped out her design book and started drawing based on what she could remember of the clothing she had seen. She rarely had the opportunity to see such fine attire. She may see regular day clothes for the nobility but tonight they were in their finery to outdo each other and it was magnificent. She continued for quite some time, forgetting that she wasn’t alone until the batman spoke again.

“You have some skill with that. You must have had a good teacher to learn drawing so well.”

He was watching her closely. She wondered how long he had been watching her. She didn’t know if he was sincere. Insincerity as a slight was second nature to many of the nobility but his eyes didn’t seem to hold contempt as she was accustomed to.

“I was not trained to draw. I just found I enjoy doing it,” she said.

He sat on the bench next to her and reached out his hand, silently requesting to see what she had drawn. She passed it over and he flipped through the pages for a few minutes before handing it back to her. She tried not to suck in her breath as their fingers brushed together.

“I was trained for many years and that is a far better skill than I ever managed.”

They went silent again for a few moments. She didn’t know if it was considered rude to remain silent. Perhaps she was expected to present a conversation topic for them but she had no thoughts on it. She enjoyed sitting in silence without having to work to think of the right thing to say. She may have outed herself by saying nothing though because after their brief pause, he cleared his throat. She looked over apprehensively, expecting him to get angry and have her dragged out of the party for masquerading as a noble.

“It grows late,” he said, “I find myself in danger of breaking a promise.”

“Please, don’t let me hold you up. I am fine here on my own.”

“I prefer being here. I also found the party a little too much for me. But I made a promise to dance tonight and there is only one young lady I wish to dance with.”

Marinette stood and faced him, leaving her small book on the bench.

“If you remember anything about her, I could try to locate her for you,” she was definitely showing her deference here at trying to meet the needs of a noble.

“I would like that very much,” he said. He stood as well. “She was the most beautiful woman at the party but I don’t think you will find her in there anymore.”

He took a step towards her, bringing an arm up to her elbow. She could feel the heat from his fingertips through her long gloves. His thumb brushed against the lace at the top.

“Everyone in the room noticed her beauty and they were buzzing with envy. Her smile was sweet and her eyes were bright blue.”

“I will look around. It is good you were able to see the eyes since everyone was in a mask. Do you remember any other details about her or her clothing?”

“Her dress,” he paused, stepping even closer. She looked up at him and he was looking down at her with something in his eyes that she couldn’t place. He leaned closer before he whispered, “it was the most lovely shade of red.”

She was dazed when he whispered near her ear. She could feel her cheeks heat up at the movement of his face near her. She had never been so close to a man she wasn’t related to. She was flooded with feelings she didn’t recognize even before she registered what he had said. Her mouth froze into an oh and her eyes were wide. She was not only wearing red, but she had been the only person in attendance wearing red. His hand slid from her elbow down to take her hand in his. He positioned his feet and placed his other hand at her waist.

She moved stiffly into the formal dancing position. She had learned as a child but it was mostly play for her. She had not had actual instruction or any expectation of learning the steps. It was just for fun as the children of the servants liked to pretend they were suddenly swept away into the court. She enjoyed dancing but she had always done far more on her own than as the partner of someone who knew the steps. She didn’t even realize she was looking down at her feet to make sure she didn’t step on his until he used his hand to tilt her head up.

“Just follow me. I’ll steer you. Close your eyes if it helps.”

She closed her eyes and she could hear the music in the distance. She leaned slightly closer and followed his movement. She was lost in the feeling. He started speaking, telling her about his childhood and his hopes for the future. She felt like she was swimming or still dancing but he had stopped and was watching her. There was nothing she could say about her childhood or her plans of the future that would not give her away. Her childhood had been vastly different and her plans for the future were more modest than anything that he would expect.

“It is customary to remove the mask at some point in the evening,” he said as he reached for his own. “I hope you will be happy with the man you find behind it.”

He removed his mask before she comprehended what was happening. His blue eyes watched hers and his black hair fell down over his forehead. She was stunned. He was possibly the most attractive man she had ever seen and she knew that for a fact because she had seen him before. Her parents worked as bakers in the kitchens here. She would often help them and she knew him as he grew up. Not personally, definitely not. The baker’s daughter was only suited to be friends with the children of the chef and the maids. She would never have played with Bruce Wayne, the son of the Duke. Not the son anymore. His parents had died when he was a child leaving him with the title. He had left not long after for schooling only to return now.

She stumbled backwards, falling over in her hurry. She didn’t look back as he called out to her. She pushed herself up off the ground and ran, holding her skirts up to help her get away. He was chasing after her but she turned off onto a darker pathway and made her way to the back entrance where her parents were probably already asleep. They would probably have expected her to sleep over with Alya, knowing that they had a tendency to stay up giggling far too late for the wake time of their parents. Some days they would both have to work early with their parents but they did allow them the occasional freedom to sleep late.

She was quiet as she carefully removed the dress. She hoped that the fall had not damaged it. It had been expensive and she expected that Lady Kagami might need it returned to her one day. She put on her nightgown and crawled onto her pallet to sleep. She didn’t sleep though. She laid awake for hours thinking. The whispers around the house were that the Duke had to return to be married. He would lose his land and titles if he didn’t settle down and marry. The expectation was that all the marriageable ladies would be in attendance at the ball and he would pick one lucky lady to be his duchess.

But he had revealed himself to Marinette and she was not a lady. She fell into a fitful sleep just as the day was dawning. It was far too soon when she woke up to voices. Not just her parents' voices. She splashed water on her face and pulled her dress over her head. She could hear footsteps coming and even if her parents allowed her the day to sleep late, it would not be acceptable for anyone else to find her this way. She slid on her shoes and tucked her hair into a scarf covering her hair. The dress she tucked into the pillow so it wouldn’t be discovered by her parents. She slid her hand into the pocket to find her notebook to discover it wasn’t there.

She suddenly realized where she had left it just as the door opened. Her mother looked around and motioned for her to follow. Her parents looked serious and she immediately realized why. Sitting at their table was the butler from upstairs, sipping tea. He watched Marinette as she walked out but he continued making casual conversation with her father. Her mother was pretending everything was fine but Marinette could tell that she was nervous. She tended to love having guests. She would bring out a tray of cakes and tea and sit but now she was moving more slowly and shaking slightly.

Marinette took the tray for her and placed it on the table.

“That won’t be necessary,” Mr Pennyworth said. He was still watching her for any reaction. “We will be leaving.”

He stood and walked to the door and the three of them stayed in their places.

“If you would all follow me,” he said.

Marinette kept her face neutral as she felt her parents turn to look at her. This wasn’t fair to them. She would have to find a way to keep them out of trouble for her mistakes. Hopefully Alya and Lady Kagami had been spared any connection to her being there and her parents could convincingly say they were completely unaware and it would sound right because it was true. It took several minutes walking through the corridors and up several flights of stairs before they arrived in the library.

There was tea laid out and Mr Pennyworth motioned for them to sit. He handed out cups of tea and offered cakes that they had prepared themselves but were far fancier than they had in their own apartment. Her father was stoic and held his mug out but her mother immediately put hers on the table, unable to hold it steady. Marinette took a hesitant sip. She had just woken up and expected she would need the tea to fortify her.

“Do you perhaps recognize this?”

Mr Pennyworth took her drawing book and put it before them on the table. Of course they recognized it. They had proudly given it to her on her last birthday. It had been a very expensive gift but they wanted to encourage her in her love of the fashions as they were able. They probably regretted it now. They certainly would not be proud when they heard about what she had done.

“That belongs to my daughter,” her father said. She knew to let him speak first or risk insulting everyone by speaking out of turn. “She takes it with her everywhere. I am certain if she lost it. it was an honest mistake.”

“Oh Papa,” she said in a small voice. “I’m so sorry.”

She paused before taking a breath and looking up.

“Please, my parents would never have allowed me to go where I wasn’t allowed. They had no idea. Don’t punish them for my transgressions.”

He walked right in front of her and her parents watched her horrified as he listed them out in front of them.

“You do admit that you snuck into the masquerade ball last night,” she nodded. “You wandered into the garden where you are not allowed to be.” She nodded again. “You danced and conversed with a gentleman knowing that he had now knowledge of your lack of rank.”

She looked at her parents' faces to see the horror and disappointment at her behavior.

“It is all true,” she said. “I did everything you said and all without my parent’s knowing. If they had known, they would have done whatever it took to stop me, including turning me in for my own protection.”

“You believe she is the same one, sir?”

The butler had turned to address the Duke as he entered the library as silently as he had the garden last night.

“I am certain it is her,” he said.

The room was still for a beat until Mr Pennyworth turned back and addressed her parents.

“I am sure you know that this is very serious,” he paused as they nodded. Marinette looked down and tried to keep the hot tears from slipping down her face. “The Duke has returned as many have likely speculated to seek a marriage. This has become complicated because after last night he says he will marry no one,” he paused dramatically and fixed his eyes on them and then pointed at Marinette, “except her.”

Her parents both tried to talk at once but Marinette couldn’t get over her shock until the Duke came over to her and knelt down.

“I know we just met, but I felt more comfortable with you in a few hours than I have with anyone in my life. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“I am not a noble, what business would I have marrying a Duke?”

“If you want to say no, say that but if you want to say yes, I swear to you I will make it happen.”

“I want to say yes,” she looked beside her at her parents and they were nodding in agreement.

“Then, we shall be married.”

He pulled her up to stand in front of him and lightly kissed her cheek. Then he pulled a ring out of his jacket.

“This was my mother’s.”

She looked down at it. There were glittering stones set in it, but all she noticed was the engraved ladybug design.